#And from just listening to the songs it seems like the three vamps are much more important here

[aucoba]

My first real encounter with Dracula's stories (I think) was the French musical adaptations in 2011. I found the CD's again and damn do the song still slap. I remember how excited I was to go watch the musical live only to come out disappointed and utterly confused. Now. Guess what captation I found on yt

[imichelle-l-rigby]

Reflections: Cillian Murphy’s Limited Edition

Season 3, episode 1

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*I am a music prof (predominantly classical vocalist), and I LOVE listening to Cillian’s music choices! That being said, sometimes I won’t like a song simply because of a vocalist (it’s a professional hazard - sorry!) 👩‍🏫

** The following are my own observations/opinions. We may not agree, and that’s ok! That’s what makes music fun! 😊

*** I wouldn’t say I’m well-versed in Cillian’s music preferences, but I do enjoy them (for the most part). I always wind up adding to my own playlists after listening to Cillian’s recommendations.

———————————————————————

And without further ado… my reflections!

🎵 Set 1 (24 Track Loop - Halleluhwah)

This seems to be all electronic music focused. He’s done entire episodes around electronic music before, so I’m enjoying the sampling. Great way to start!

I also remember him saying somewhere that he takes time creating sets of music. I appreciate that and it helps the flow and continuity so much.

Side note - it’s taken me a looooong time to appreciate electronic music, but thanks to Cillian, I now can say I like it

24 Track Loop: reminds me of the first composers to play with recorded sampling compositions in the ‘50s (Varèse comes to mind), but the “track loop” is reminiscent of early minimalist recordings in the late ‘60s, especially with how repetitive some of the sounds become.

Diskhat: yeah, I’m definitely getting ‘50s experimentalist vibes! Reminds me of John Cage’s prepared piano pieces (and honestly it may be quoting some but I’m not sure so this is a guess), but mixed with some funky grooves! As weird as this is, it’s growing on me and I kinda really like it!

Halleluhwah: nice vamp at the beginning 😎 this is definitely something that could get stuck in my head and I wouldn’t mind it!

🎤 Talking break:

I missed hearing him talk about music!!! 😊

“It’s been a minute now”

How many times can he say “back” in a 5 second time span??? 😂😅

“… very amenable to light housework.” Great! Do you think if I ask nicely he’ll come clean my house while I’m at work??? 😂

When he’s talking about the above 3 songs, the “insistency” is so true. They all have elements of a continuous underlying pulse, which is pretty common in electronic and minimalist music.

I do find fault with his term “atonality” - atonal music has no pitch center, but the pieces just played DO have a pitch center.

“Turtles have short legs - which they do!”

🎵 Set 2 (fix-Guns of Brixton)

Fix: not my favorite song, but peaceful. I neither like nor dislike

Guns of Brixton: ok but this has been stuck in my head since I heard it 😂 I really like it!

🎤Talking break:

Yes Cill, covers are so appreciated!

🎵Set 3 (Look Down From the Bridge - Pale Blue Eyes)

Look down: nice, chill. Again, not my favorite, but I don’t dislike it. Interesting instrument choices. 👍

Pale Blue Eyes: I like everything about this except for his voice. I wish I liked it, but I don’t. 🤷‍♀️ if I had to describe it, his voice sounds thin, and the voice teacher within me wants more.

These songs seem like great examples of storytelling within music, so I definitely see why Cillian likes them.

🎤Talking break:

He sounds so pleased knowing his factoids 😂😂😂 never change, Cillian!

Drella is my favorite thing now! 😂

🎵Set 4 (No No - Three Drums)

No No: why isn’t this mentioned in the track list??? THIS IS AMAZING AND I AM LOVING THE POLYRHYTHMS! I’m having so much fun rhythmically that I can’t even focus on the lyrics I have no idea what they’re saying 😂😂. ✨ This is prob my fave song of this episode. ✨

The way these songs blend into the next is so satisfying 😌

Three Drums: I like how this is a “cool down” from the craziness of No No, but also pairs really well. Nice and chill. It’s a feel good song and such a vibe. 😎

🎤Talking Break

THE TERRIBLE IDENT RETURNS!!! 😆

Sugar is a great song!

The exclusive - omg 😳😂

*whisper* exclusive

🎵Set 5 (All Your Fails)

All Your Fails: If bop is still a term, this is a bop! *dancing along* 💃 but seriously, the vocal line has so many upward leaps that it reminds me of a lot of boppy pop music. I’m digging this!

To be fair, I tend to like Broken Social Scene, so it makes sense I’m into All Your Fails.

🎤Talking Break

The way he says “woo” without any enthusiasm 😂

🎵Set 6 (It’s Love - Minor Meditations)

It’s Love: ok, I’m in love! 😍😍😍 acoustic guitar is beautiful, and I’m enjoying these harmonies.

Minor Meditations: nice segue with the acoustic guitar selections. 👍 the title is cute and punny, too! AND THE PICARDY THIRD AT THE END!!! 😎

🎤Talking Break

“… excellent! … wahoo wahoo wahoo”

🎵Set 7 (Wahoo - Where Did Our Love Go)

Wahoo: for a song with such a happy title, this was quite bluesy in terms of lyrics! And the funk and jazz bits - What a twist!!! 🙀

Girl group power!!!!!!! I love listening to artists recall how hits came to be.

Where Did Our Love Go: YES I LOVE THE SUPREMES!!!! 😍😍😍

🎤Talking Break

As much as he talks about W. Kerry, I feel like I need to go! It sounds gorgeous!

🎵Set 8 (To War - Jah Nuh Dead)

To War: this guy is playing the fire out of the concertina! 🔥

Side note - I am sooooo into traditional music! It’s one of the things I study, and many composers find inspiration from traditional music of various regions. I have such respect for the genre that I could go on, but I won’t to save y’all’s sanity 😅

Again, the transitions between songs are soooo well done!

Master Crowley’s: the drone and pedal points are so effective! The inclusion and intentional omission actually do a lot in building momentum. It’s also so cool how eventually everything fades into the background and you’re left with just sonorities, and then you go back and get a mix of everything! 💯

Jah Nuh Dead: Sinéad!!! I hadn’t heard this song before, and it’s absolutely beautiful and haunting. It takes a special person to keep you captivated and carry their own against such bare/sparse accompaniment. She has such a unique voice. She’ll truly be missed.

I’m guessing this is the Irish set 🍀

🎤Talking Break

Ya gotta love it when he fangirls over bands!

SINÉAD!!!!!!

🎵Set 9 (Fairlies)

Fairlies: so this is what happens when Irish musicians go to HOT climates? Jk jk 😂 no, I really like this. Some interesting lyrics!

🎤Talking Break

I kinda miss flip phones.

🎵Set 10 (I Am A River)

I Am A River: this is a bright song, and I mean that in terms of timbre. All the instruments and even the vocals are very ☀️☀️☀️ it definitely paints an image in your head/imagination

🎤Talking Break

No!! Don’t shut up! I love your rambles!

“Aylesbury Boy, in a kinda animated buffalo character” - what on earth does they mean??? Bullwinkle???

🎵Set 11 (Aylesbury Boy)

Aylesbury Boy: I’ll be honest, I don’t like this. It’s got a lot of funny words in it, a decent background rhythm, but it’s not my jam.

🎤Talking Break

Ok, an album of covers is a great idea.

“Stop talking. Listen to it” 😂

🎵Set 12 (Three Hours)

Three Hours: I’m really digging the backing track. It’s got some fun sound effects, but what I really like is the driving rhythm against this free-flowing vocal line. Nice contrast!

🎤Talking Break

I like how he talks more as the show goes on 😂

New content! 🙀

“Outrageously reasonable questions”

I’ll be honest, the non-advent music calendar confuses me 😅

“Cardboard aperture”

THE IDENT. OMG.

🎵Set 13 (O Barquinho - Till the Morning Comes)

O Barquinho: yep! This is bossa nova!

Till the Morning Comes: the piano and other background music reminds of Penny Lane 😂😂😂 I genuinely can’t even listen to the song properly because I keep expecting Paul McCartney to burst in with some vocals 😂😂😂😂

🎵Talking Break

Oh dear. We’ve gotten to the experimental poetry part of the show! This could be good or bad 😅

“I like jazz for the principle of what jazz is” - Nordine

Well Nordine, if that’s your stance, then I appreciate your performance of Coral for the principle of what it is, as a non-musical reinterpretation of jazz.

“A flight of musical fantasy within structure.” Ya know, not a bad definition of jazz. You do improvise over a pre-arranged chord progression, so that makes sense!

🎵Set 14 (Coral - nightclub)

Coral: not gonna lie, this is my least favorite selection of the show. HOWEVER, I will give credit where it’s due! I do appreciate that he’s got word plays, puns, and other poetic devices all over the place. That stuff mimics some of the techniques you’ll find throughout jazz. Now what’s really cool is the background music - you can hear bits and pieces influenced from different eras of jazz, such as New Orleans, swing, some bebop, and more modern stuff as well! Even though I hate it, I appreciate what it does.

Also, I first thought this song was a cheesy ad 😂😅 I definitely can tell he’s a voice actor

Nightclub: I like this a lot! Crazy how it goes from insanity to something really sweet, funny, and enjoyable. The background music is so ethereal and although a bit random, it’s great! The contradiction is like “salty and sweet” snacks. It shouldn’t work, but it does. Although I guess it mirrors some of the temporary images in the poem, like the smoke disappearing.

🎤Talking Break

Whoa. Cillian put the backing track in?! Good choice, dude!

🎵Set 15 (Remember Begum Rokheya)

Remember: ok I love this!!!! Polyrhythms galore, and the instrument pairings are so much fun! 😍

🎤Talking Break

“Approachable mellow” - does this mean there’s mellow stuff that isn’t approachable? I’d love to hear an example

🎵Set 16 (I Smile for E)

I Smile for E: I like the contrast between verse and chorus. Going from a minor key to major gives an auditory version of “smiling” nice touch! But I’ll be honest - idk why this is more “approachable” than other mellow songs 😅😂

🎤Talking Break

I’m not sure he’s saying “Hinoki” correctly. It looks Japanese to me? But idk. I’m not an expert and he’s definitely more informed than I am

“Useful music” - isn’t all music useful in some way? 🤔

🎵Set 17 (Hinoki Wood - Woman In Late)

Hinoki Wood: an interesting choice of instrument. You can tell it’s an old upright that needs a bit of maintenance, but it does have some charm.

Woman In Late: ok, so we are back to the tape loop concepts seen at the beginning of the show! Kinda cool how he’s circling back. Anyway, the “tape loop,” or looping of small lengths of recorded tape, was a thing done at the beginning of the minimalist trend in the ‘60s (think Reich or Riley) to create this fuzzy sound effect seen here. I love how you hear that influence in so many corners of the music world!

🎤Talking Break

“Delicious”

What???! The last song??? 😭😭😭

Yay! New music!

“Mind yourselves”

🎵Set 18 (Unknown Summer)

Unknown Summer: I’m digging it 😎 This has some amazing dissonant vocals and it is soooooo satisfying. I don’t like the crackle effect in the background, but it does help build this “distortion” they’re building in the song. It’s kinda fun to put that distortion against the “clear” blue skies. I see what ya did there… 😂

———————————————————————

Ah! That’s the end!!!

Thank you so much for reading all this. I honestly can’t believe anyone is interested in my rambles. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! I’ll write again next week for episode 2!

Tag list:

@iammrsrogers @deliciousnutcomputer @mariamoonie @brownskinsugarplum76 @look-at-the-soul @kj-davis @neverroad @teapothollow @thepurplearmyposts @possessedmarshmallow

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post: Les Rallizes Dénudés

It’s difficult to paint an accurate picture of the history of Les Rallizes Dénudés, as an aura of mystery and an inordinate amount of conjecture surround the band. This we do know: Les Rallizes Dénudés sprung from the fertile music scene in late 1960s Japan, in striking opposition to the Group Sounds and folk-rock music that was popular in their country at the time. The original line-up of the band formed in 1967 at Doshisha University in Kyoto, comprising guitarist and vocalist Takashi Mizutani, guitarist Takeshi Nakamura, bassist Moriaki Wakabayashi, and drummer Takashi Katoh. They initially dubbed themselves Hadaka No Rallizes but, according to legend, after Mizutani befriended the radical theater ensemble Gendai Gekijo they became Les Rallizes Dénudés in accordance with the fake French slang that the troupe had invented. 

Throughout the band’s three-decades-long existence, they cut a striking figure. Fronted by the long-haired, sunglasses-and-leather wearing Mizutani, Les Rallizes Dénudés took sensory overload to a new level. The band’s live shows were punishingly loud and replete with extreme visual elements. They had a repertoire of just over a dozen songs, but the myriad bootleg recordings that appeared in the band’s wake indicate that Mizutani and company never played a tune the same way twice. Their music seemed deceptively simple, with bass-and-drum vamps that stretched to infinity overtop of which Mizutani unfurled scorching clouds of guitar noise and vocals sung in his native Japanese. 

After original bassist Wakabayashi was involved in the hijacking of a plane in 1970, the already enigmatic Mizutani became downright elusive. Outside of their iconoclastic leader, Les Rallizes Dénudés’ membership rotated frequently. Official recordings didn’t appear until 1991, at which time the band issued a trio of CDs compiled from various studio and live recordings from across the first decade of their existence. These quickly disappeared, as the legend of Les Rallizes Dénudés had grown considerably by this time, likely indirectly due to acts like High Rise and Fushitsusha that followed in their wake. 

Mizutani passed away in 2019, and shortly thereafter an organization dubbed The Last One Musique appeared, complete with a new website devoted to the band. Earlier in 2022, the Temporal Drift label began issuing Les Rallizes Dénudés material, notably The Oz Tapes and the Oz Days Live compilation, supported by The Last One Musique. In November, the label plans to reissue those first three official releases – ’67-’69 Studio et Live, MIZUTANI / Les Rallizes Dénudés, and ’77 Live – completely remastered and with new liner notes that will hopefully dissolve some of the fog-like mystique surrounding the band. 

We here at Dusted have varying levels of affinity for Les Rallizes Dénudés, and felt that through group discussion, we’d be able to approach the music most adroitly. Given the sheer volume of material involved (The Oz Tapes is a double LP, ’77 Live is a triple LP, and the Oz Days Live compilation is a triple CD), we chose to focus on the official releases. 

I don’t know about you guys, but that ’77 Live release is what I typically associate with the Les Rallizes Dénudés “sound”. Apparently that Heavier Than a Death in the Family bootleg includes some of this material. 

Intro by Bryon Hayes

Ian Mathers: So, while I'd certainly heard of them (albeit thinking they were French for a bit when all I knew was the name), my first real encounter with Les Rallizes Dénudés was only a few months ago, hearing the Heavier Than a Death in the Family version of "Night of the Assassins" and going “What is THAT?” I hadn't gotten around to investigating much further than that, though, so this Listening Post is both very convenient for me, personally, and also when I started playing '67-'69 Studio et Live and "Les Bulles de Savon / Soap Bubbles" began I was very surprised.  Like you, Bryon, '77 LIVE is more what I expected, albeit on far more circumstantial grounds. And while, once I adjusted to the gentler, arguably more dated material on '67-'69 and MIZUTANI / Les Rallizes Dénudés none of it is particularly unpleasant or hard to deal with, it does suffer for me in comparison to '77 LIVE which on first listen is one of my favorite things I've heard all year, maybe longer. The 95-minute length and sheer abrasiveness of its noise means it's not going to be a casual play around my apartment, but I can honestly say I was riveted for every minute the couple of times I've been able to fit it in so far. The length of each track and of the album as a whole is part of what I think is so distinctive and incredible about it.

So if these three official/out of print releases have been around at least to some degree since the early 1990s, is the softer/folkier(?) sound of much of the studio stuff on there a big part of what people like about Les Rallizes Dénudés? I feel like once I heard more than the name I mainly heard people referring to the noisier stuff. And why did it take until this listen to realize that the bassline on what '77 LIVE calls "夜、暗殺者の夜 / The Night, Assassin’s Night" makes me think of that "I Will Follow Him" song from Sister Act? 

Mason Jones: I've heard a number of people refer to Rallizes as "Japan's answer to the Velvet Underground," which rings true in part because of the bands formed in their wake. While they were never well-known, perhaps "notorious" is a better description. Their influence leaked out over years, and their shadowy presence and noisy psychedelic swirl can be traced to many independent bands. I doubt that Keiji Haino would regard them as much of an inspiration for Fushitsusha, but there's at least a visual aesthetic that's even more visible in Kousokuya and Kaneko Jutoku's work and lurks behind many other bands related to the PSF label such as Shizuka and High Rise. Some of Japan's psychedelic underground readily admit Rallizes' inspiration, such as LSD March, Up-Tight, and Overhang Party.

Where the Boredoms inspired an entire Kansai scene of anything-goes indie anarchy, Les Rallizes Denudes infiltrated a smaller but no less impactful network of smoke-drenched psychedelic players. The heavier, noisier aspect of Rallizes is better-known outside Japan, but from the deep, slow strums of Suishou no Fune to the quieter aspects of Majutsu no Niwa and LSD March, the softer side is definitely there as well. That said, I've certainly always been more attracted to their more crazed, no-holds-barred work like that on '77 LIVE and bootlegs like Blind Baby Has Its Mothers Eyes. The 1980 Live and Soundboard collection (10 CDRs!) and Double Heads boots are also among the better ones, but in truth over the years it's been nearly impossible to untangle the recordings spread across dozens and dozens of poorly assembled bootleg releases. Seeing properly mastered and collected releases coming out now is very, very welcome.

Ian Mathers: Which brings up one of the biggest questions I have about all this: how does one “properly” master something like '77 LIVE? I think it sounds fantastic, so I clearly agree with the choices made, but I wonder what's involved and what's different about working with source material like that. 

Mason Jones: It's hard to say. In this case, it's possible that they have the original tapes, whereas the versions I've heard before are probably second generation or worse; very possibly duped from an old LP or cassette! However, I'm listening right now and comparing the old Le 12 Mars 1977 à Tachikawa bootleg I have, which is the same as '77 LIVE — same track lengths and all. The older bootleg feels slightly thinner and hissier, but interestingly it doesn't sound as much worse as I recalled. That one has a long history of unofficial re-releases, as shown on its Discogs page. The old bootleg I have of Mizutani is certainly improved on by the new reissue, with a great deal more clarity. I don't seem to have any previous releases that correspond to the '67 - '69 Studio et Live reissue, which is an intriguing collection of ragtag recordings. 

The OZ Tapes by Les Rallizes Dénudés

Ethan Covey: It’s funny you mention mastering as there was a minor Twitter flare up a few days back when someone posted a screenshot comparing audio files from the old CD release of ’77 Live with the new edition. It looked as if the dynamic range on the new release was crunched/maxed out/whatever the correct terminology is, versus a more forgiving mix on the CD. And there was the accompanying grumbling that modern mastering — especially on a release like this — is all about volume at the expense of subtlety. I haven’t listened to the new ’77 Live yet but have to say the mastering on The OZ Tapes sounded fantastic compared with previous versions of that material. I look forward to listening to the LP (if it ever arrives), and digging into these “new” ones. 

Mason Jones: Yeah, I can see that. Listening to my old CD copy versus the new one, while I haven't compared the files specifically there's certainly more modern compression on the new release. That's fairly typical these days. To my ears, it doesn't seem excessive, but it'll take more listening to let it sink in for sure. I do have to chuckle a bit about the idea of "subtlety" dealing with blown-out live recordings like these. As you say, though, I'm waiting for my LP copies to arrive, which will be a better test than mp3s. 

Bryon Hayes: I have a question for Mason and those of you who've been following Les Rallizes Dénudés for some time and have access to recordings from across their existence: these three releases document a band that appears to have experienced a sizeable shift in sound in its first decade of existence, from the almost garage-y tunes of '67-'69 Studio et Live and the softer acoustic sounds of MIZUTANI to the overdriven feedback onslaught that is the '77 Live set.  Does anyone know if this was a subtle transition that occurred slowly throughout the decade, or was there a Big Bang moment, with a clear delineation between those two sides of the band? 

Mason Jones: That's an interesting question, Bryon. I really don't have a solid answer but can make some guesses. The sequence you list is accurate, and these three albums essentially document three phases of the band: the first lineup from '67 to '69. The acoustic work on Mizutani was him sort of on his own (with some others playing with him) during the period when there wasn't a full band. Then in 1970 he moved to Tokyo and started with a new lineup. Takeshi Nakamura, who started the band with Mizutani, was quoted as saying "The live shows were really high volume from the very beginning" so the shift from garage-y as you describe it to the more out-there tracks might have just happened naturally due to the almost complete change in band members. But who knows, perhaps some of it's simply the selection of tracks we're hearing!

Ian Mathers: I am sympathetic to "loudness war" type concerns, generally, but I have to admit the notion that the stuff here that I really like would not be brickwalled seems a little funny. Interesting to know that aside from Mizutani himself there was a pretty complete change of personnel; I still kind of wonder, given the more standard/quality production on those earlier records, how much the production, not just the playing, on '77 Live was a deliberate aesthetic choice. Do we know if it's more a case of them playing high-volume shows with recording equipment that just wasn't up to the task, in unexpectedly glorious ways, or is there any indication they were leaning into that part of their sound (whether that's using equipment a step down from what they could, or playing in certain ways, or the recording process, or mixing, or...)? Any answer isn't going to make me like that sound less, to be clear - I have no stake in this being some variety of outsider or accidental art. I do wonder if when they first heard the tapes they went "great!" or "oh no..." though.   

Mason Jones: Yeah, it's hard to say whether the sound was intentional or not. In the case of the live recording, it's worth keeping in mind that in Japan it's unusual for bands to have their own equipment aside from the instruments and effects -- the live houses have amps and drums that the bands use. Since so few people drive, it's uncommon to be able to bring your own stuff. That means the amps they were using would have been the house amps, although '77 Live was recorded at Tachikawa Social Education Hall; who knows if they had a regular backline or rented equipment for the show. In any case, who knows how they felt about the tapes when they first heard them.

The overblown sound, though, was almost certainly the primary influence for Nanjo Asahito's recording and mastering approach for the first High Rise albums and later work that he did. Those recordings were infamous for the brick wall limiting, pushing everything into the red. I don't know for certain but given Nanjo's appreciation for Rallizes I'd be shocked if the sound of '77 Live wasn't the initial inspiration for that approach. 

Bryon Hayes: According to the information I've scrounged online, not only was the band notoriously loud, but they were also accompanied by a frenzied lightshow, beginning with their earliest performances. Apparently Mizutani coined the term "total sensory assault" to describe the experience and it is claimed that was the goal from the start. Of course, given the amount of speculation and conjecture that surrounds the band, this could be a red herring. In some respects, I hope that as Temporal Drift release more material, the mystery will slowly unravel, but I also kind of enjoy the mystique.

[theghostpinesmusic]

(Before I start this post in earnest, yes, Relix only posted this video at 720p resolution despite streaming it live at 4K. Oh well.)

"Red Bird" is one of my favorite Goose songs, and it's such a consistent jam vehicle for them that I'm surprised I haven't ended up writing about it yet. It's based heavily around Peter on the Vintage Vibe (which I'm a huge sucker for), it's got great lyrics and a unique melody, it's got a section that uses layered vocals to build to a musical peak (which I'm also a huge sucker for), and almost every version played has at least some great improv in it.

I know it's not particularly a genius move to have all red stage lights during a song called "Red Bird," but I still think it's awesome.

Super-rad vocal section starts at 4:06.

After that, the whole band vamps on the song's outro chords for a bit, Rick gets in an especially badass solo, then at 7:25 we depart for stranger shores. Again here, like a lot of jams from this run, Rick lays back almost immediately, switching over to a really cool, distorted, but quiet tone. Peter moves to the piano, and the camera showcases the weird, acid-y imagery crawling on the walls of the venue.

Some great back-and-forth between Rick and Peter starts at 9:30. Maybe it's the audio mix since this is a Relix video and not a Goose one, but I can't hear Trevor much at all, at least not enough to hear what he's up to.

I really dig Cotter's drumming starting at about 11:00 or so. For lack of a better way to describe it, it's super Fishman-y here.

Things get really syncopated at 11:37 as everyone brain-melds. This kind of thing would, historically, be a space the band entered briefly to build tension before a big release, but here they just sort of...stay there. And I mean that in a good way. I love hearing them fully explore weird, uncomfortable spaces like this. I also helps get away from the (occasional) feeling during a show with multiple long jams that every jam ultimately ends up sounding the same.

Around 14:00, Rick starts playing something even more circular and reverb-y, and Cotter responds by playing all of the drums at once. I really love this section as an evolution of the previous space. And when Peter locks onto a repeating piano pattern, which I sometimes complain about, it fits perfectly with what the rest of the band is doing.

I can actually hear Trevor, as it turns out, I just have to turn the whole thing up so loud that my neighbors can also hear him.

The baroque-scale stuff that Rick starts playing at 16:52 is just nuts and seems to push a slight change in the tenor of the jam, toward something more mellow and blissful. Rick starts playing something that fits the mood a bit better starting at 18:00, then at 18:15 busts out an octave shifter that immediately puts me in the mind of some of my favorite 2000ish-era Phish bliss jams. Trevor's playing is really minimal here, but it's the perfect addition to the sound the band is developing.

I didn't write anything about the next three minutes of the jam because I was literally just staring at it on my screen, totally caught up in what the band was doing.

At 21:53, everyone receives the telepathic message to switch to Rock And Roll Mode, which is pretty great, and that change gets us to the finish line.

I often do these write-ups primarily to revisit and more deeply listen to and appreciate particular performances that I enjoy, but occasionally I cover something like this "Red Bird" that I more or less completely forgot in the onslaught of four nights of big jams from the Capitol Theatre and get to have a moment of "Holy crap! This is really good!" which is nice. This one sort of fell off of my radar and I'm glad I came up with an excuse to hear it again!

[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 3: 1987 Broadway Production

Hello, everyone! This is the latest edition in my attempt to chronicle all of the musical and lyrical changes which the show Les Miserables has undergone over the years. This time, we're going through all the changes between the musical as it existed on the West End around 1985-1986 and the revised libretto for the 1987 Broadway production.

In some ways, this is a much easier changelog to compile than the last two simply because it is much easier to find audio evidence of the show from this era than from its pre-1987 self. We have a full soundboard of the original Broadway cast as well as a very good quality bootleg of the very first Broadway preview, as well as several audios from the next few years which use exactly the same script. We also have an officially released Symphonic Soundtrack which almost (but not quite) follows this version of the libretto exactly. So no more relying on unclear bootlegs and speculation to figure out what was changed when!

Having said that, the changes in this production were MASSIVE. It's almost certainly the most extensive edit the show's libretto has received to this day. As such, this will be a very long edition of this blog. So make sure you have a bit of time on your hands before reading it! With all that cleared up, let's begin.

The first change literally can be heard as soon as the musical begins. The pre-Broadway show opens up with the same recurring motif also heard, for instance, at the openings of "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More". This music then transitioned to the instrumentals to the opening "Work Song". The post-Broadway libretto cuts right to the chase, with the opening instrumentals to the "Work Song" starting right up without any preamble.

One interesting little non-scripted change occurs later in the "Work Song", but only in American productions. For whatever reason, every American Javert from the original Broadway cast until the first Broadway revival sang "And I am Javert" instead of "And I'm Javert", for reasons that honestly baffle me. Again, the libretto retained the original contraption as far as I'm aware, and the West End production as well as later UK and Australian tours still used it as well.

The next change happens while Valjean is on parole. After Valjean pleads against the farmer underpaying him, this was the farmer's original response:

Do you believe

A yellow ticket of leave

Allows a criminal like you to earn full screw?

Since Broadway, his response is instead as follows:

You broke the law

It's there for people to see

Why should you get the same as honest men like me?

I much prefer this revised version. Though the information is essentially the same, it feels more dramatic, as well as feeling less awkward now that it is in the form of separate sentences as opposed to a single sentence spoken in three lines with pauses in between. Moreover, the phrase "honest men like me" as used here provides interesting foreshadowing for its more well-known usage in "Master of the House". One could spend quite some time analysing the implications of this recurring description, but this blog is long enough as it is so now isn't the time!

In the same number, originally the innkeeper's wife had the following remark:

My rooms are full

And I've no supper to spare

I'd like to help you really, all I want is to be fair

Since Broadway, her line has been slightly modified:

My rooms are full

And I've no supper to spare

I'd like to help a stranger, all we want is to be fair

I suppose "I'd like to help a stranger" sounds less slang-y than "help you really". Presumably this is why it was changed. I find the change of subject from singular to plural far more interesting. My hypothesis is that the writers wanted to make it clear than this is a communal grudge, not a personal one. Everyone around sees it as perfectly fair to deny shelter to a former convict, not just this one individual. I definitely prefer the revised line, but evidently the producers of the West End production didn't; that production held on to the original lyrics for more than a decade after they were originally revised! More on that in a later edition of this blog...

A more minor change can be heard during "At the End of the Day". Originally, Valjean asks the factor workers "What is this shouting all about?" The Broadway script changes this to "What is this fighting all about?" Much less trivial implications now. I'm curious as to whether or not a staging change may have accompanied this. Usually the two workers get into quite a bit of physical scuffle by this point, far beyond the realm of shouting. Did the original pre-Broadway production use more subdued choreography?

"The Runaway Cart" has some noticeable differences. After Valjean asks the townspeople for help, the original response was sung by the entire ensemble, and went as follows:

(SOLO)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There's nothing at all you can do

(ENSEMBLE)

The old man is a goner for sure

Leave him alone

The Broadway libretto revised this into a sequence sung by one individual at a time with the following lyrics:

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

The load is as heavy as hell

The old man is a goner for sure

It will kill you as well

A female ensemble member sung "The old man is a goner for sure" while a male member sung the rest. I sort of like it better as an ensemble piece (something that would be largely brought back in later years, as I'll soon discuss) although I think it's cool that it rhymes now. Having said that, I'm fairly confident that no one in the real world has ever actually used the phrase "Heavy as hell"!

An official change in the libretto occurred in "Who Am I?" but listeners to the original Broadway cast would not have heard it. While the pre-Broadway show had Valjean refer to "This innocent who bears my face", the revised libretto instead refers to "This innocent who wears my face". Perhaps a means of avoiding repetition, given that the word "bear" is used again later in the number? Regardless, Colm Wilkinson didn't actually bother to adapt to this change! He still sings "This innocent who bears my face" in the Broadway production (as well as the tenth anniversary concert; not until his 1998 stint in Toronto did he ever start singing the revised lyrics). Since every future Valjean (except Ivan Rutherford for some reason) sings "wears", I still see it as appropriate to mention here.

At the end of the song, Valjean's "You know where to find me!", used on and off in the Barbican previews before becoming a settled part of the production by the final pre-Broadway libretto, is once again removed for the Broadway show. However, the West End production would keep it for a few years - more on that later...

Just listening to the original Broadway cast, one might think Javert's "Dare you talk to me of crime?" becomes "Dare you speak to me of crime?" However, this seems to be a Terrence Mann-exclusive change. Every Javert after him reverts to the original lyrics (as did Terrence himself when he returned to the musical fifteen years later). I'm still making note of the change here for the sake of clarification.

An instrumental change occurs between "Castle on a Cloud" and "Master of the House". Mme. Thenardier's "You heard me ask for something and I never ask twice" was original followed by three bars of notes, then by six more bars of notes that are identical to each other. After the Broadway production, however, those six bars of notes grow increasingly more dramatic as they go on.

A very slight change happens during the preamble to "Master of the House". Originally one of the guests proclaims "Hell, what a wine" while the revised libretto instead has him claim "God, what a wine". Definitely more natural in my opinion, though not a huge difference by any means.

A few subtle differences exist in the "Waltz of Treachery" number. First off, Thenardier originally asks "Have we done for your child what is best?" The Broadway libretto changes "your child" to "her child". I personally like the original lyric better, as it goes back to the idea established earlier that Valjean is metaphorically bargaining through the spirit of Fantine. It's definitely not a difference that makes or breaks the number, though.

Towards the end of the song comes another change that cannot actually be heard by listening to the original Broadway cast. In the pre-Broadway show, Valjean used the line "Let us seek out a friendlier sky", while the revised libretto has him say "Let us seek out some friendlier sky". However, Colm Wilkinson once again doesn't bother to adapt to the change, and unlike the "Who Am I?" change he wouldn't learn it over time either. He continues to sing "a friendlier sky" throughout his on-and-off performances as Valjean, right up to and including his 2002 run in Shanghai!

After the bulk of the number comes a more significant change. Prior to the Broadway production, as was discussed in the last entry, the "Waltz of Treachery" was followed by about forty-five seconds of vamping and then this exchange in the tune of "Castle on a Cloud":

(LITTLE COSETTE)

We're going home right now, monsieur

What is your name

(VALJEAN)

Now my dear

I've names enough, I've got names to spare

But where I go, you always will be there

Nor will you be afraid again

There is a sun that's shining yet

(LITTLE COSETTE)

I'm going to call you my Papa

(VALJEAN)

I'm going to call you my Cosette

The Broadway libretto replaced it with just under twenty seconds of vamping, followed by a sequence in the tune of the "Waltz of Treachery":

(VALJEAN)

Come Cosette

Come my dear

From now on I will always be here

Where I go

You will be

(LITTLE COSETTE)

Will there be children

And castles to see?

(VALJEAN)

Yes, Cosette

Yes it's true

There's a castle just waiting for you

This is followed by another fifteen or so seconds of vamping, and then the humming duet between Cosette and Valjean carries on as before.

Arguably the biggest change in the entire edited libretto happens now. Whereas the number was originally directly followed by "Stars", things have been moved around so that it instead transitions directly into "Look Down". "Look Down" itself receives a lot of adjustments. First off, the number began in the pre-Broadway musical with a bar of music that was then repeated. The Broadway version only plays the bar of music once, and the sung part happens immediately afterwards.

Gavroche's verse receives some lyrical updates. Originally it used the following lines:

This is my school, my high society

From St. Denis to St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

If you're poor, if you're free

Follow me, follow me!

The Broadway production rewrote that sequence a little:

This is my school, my high society

Here in the slums of St Michel

We live on crumbs of humble piety

Tough on the teeth, but what the hell?

Think you're poor? Think you're free?

Follow me, follow me!

Better lines in my humble opinion; "slums" conveys the poverty of Gavroche's community much more effectively than the original line, and phrasing the "poor" and "free" lines as questions is more dramatic than their original statement form.

The old beggar woman's original "You give 'em all the pox" becomes the less grammatically accurate "Give 'em all the pox" for Broadway, though I have no idea if the original "You" was part of the libretto or simply an improvisation. Since seemingly all actresses used that line for the first few years of the West End production, it strikes me as warranting a mention.

Right after this comes another change. In the pre-Broadway show, the argument between the beggar woman and the prostitute was followed by an exchange by a few individual beggars. All of the following lines were said by one person at a time, the first three being said by female beggars and the last one by a male beggar:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen, dearie

Something's gotta give

The Broadway libretto changes this to an ensemble piece performed by all the beggars simultaneously:

When's it gonna end?

When're we gonna live?

Something's gotta happen now or

Something's gotta give

I really like the switch to a group effort, as it really emphasizes that the beggars are a community sharing the burden of poverty. It really feels like an epidemic to an extent that it doesn't when it's just a small conversation. Evidently the producers of the West End show didn't agree with me though, as they held onto the original sequence for more than a decade after the official change, and by that point it had already been largely reverted worldwide! More on that in a later blog...

Originally, the exposition about General Lamarque was given by a few random students (supposedly not specified in the libretto, but in practice portrayed as Combeferre and Feuilly). Some ensemble dialogue between beggars was put in between. Feuilly sings over the end of the ensemble's lines - but many have speculated that this was not intended by the writers, as the background music sounds super out of sync with his singing! Here's how the scene went:

(COMBEFERRE)

As for the leaders of the land

As for the swells who run this show

Only one man and that's Lamarque

Speaks for the people here below

(BEGGARS)

Something for a meal

Something for a doss

Something in the name of Him who died upon the cross

On the cross, come across

On the cross, come across, come across

(FEUILLY)

Lamarque is ill and fading fast

Won't last the week out, so they say

With all the anger in the land

How long before the judgement day?

Before we cut the fat ones down to size?

Before the barricades arise?

Fortunately, the writers of the Broadway libretto had the sense to change the purveyors of the message into people actually relevant to the show's plot, namely Marius and Enjolras. Moreover, the beggars' dialog was rewritten into a sequence that feels far less clunky to me. The background music was fixed to account for the solo singing (now done by Marius) overlapping the beggars' lines, so it is now perfectly in sync. Here's the edited exchange:

(ENJOLRAS)

Where are the leaders of the land?

Where are the swells who run this show?

(MARIUS)

Only one man and that's Lamarque

Speaks for the people here below

(BEGGARS)

See our children fed

Help us in our shame

Something for a crust of bread in Holy Jesus' name

(SOLO BEGGAR)

In the Lord's holy name

(BEGGARS)

In His name, in His name, in His name

(MARIUS)

Lamarque is ill and fading fast

Won't last the week out, so they say

(ENJOLRAS)

With all the anger in the land

How long before the judgement day?

Before we cut the fat ones down to size?

Before the barricades arise?

Much better in my opinion! It should be noted that David Bryant instead sings "these people here below", but as far as I can tell every future Marius (or later Enjolras - more on that later) sings "the people, which is the actually phrasing in the libretto.

One final change in Look Down: Gavroche now says that all of Thenardier's family is "on the make", as opposed to the original "on the take". A rather pointless change in my book, though it certainly doesn't hurt anything.

"The Robbery" is another heavily edited number. Thenardier's line after acknowledging Brujon, Babet, and Claquesous was originally as follows:

You Montparnasse, watch for the p'lice

With Eponine, take care

You've got all the hash, I've got all the cash

The Broadway show rewrote those lines into their still-current form:

You Montparnasse, watch for the law

With Eponine, take care

You turn on the tears, no mistakes my dears!

This changed lyric more naturally transitions the scene into the gang's actual plan, though the original is an interesting continuation of Gavroche's recollection of Thenardier once running a hash house.

Mme. Thenardier's response is also altered from the original lyrics:

Here come a student from our street

One of 'Ponine's peculiar gents

Our Eponine would kiss his feet

She never showed a bit of sense

Into the current ones:

These bloody students on our street

Here they come slumming once again

Our Eponine would kiss their feet

She never showed a scrap of brain

It's interesting how the edit shifts the focus from Marius in particular to the students in general. It seems that Mme. Thenardier is less aware of the specifics of her daughter's personal life now, something that makes sense for her character.

After Mme. Thenardier's "You'll be in the clear", there was originally just eighteen seconds of a musical motif (the same one which opens "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More") followed by Thenardier's speech. Since Broadway, it's instead been followed by a few more lines of dialogue:

(MARIUS)

Who is that man

(EPONINE)

Leave me alone!

(MARIUS)

Why is here?

Hey Eponine!

Only now does the musical motif play. But instead of staying silent upon seeing Cosette, Marius now sings "I didn't see you there, forgive me..." Interestingly, in this video of a 1987 performance of the original West End production, Marius just stops without bumping into Cosette as he usually does. This makes me wonder whether or not the bumping was added into the Broadway version, and the lyric was added to accomodate for the blocking change. Of course, this is all speculation; I have no way to know for sure.

Thenardier's con job is also quite a bit different post-Broadway. Originally it used the following lyrics:

How you do? Spare a sou

God will see all the good that you do

Look monsieur, lost a leg

Hero of Waterloo now has to beg

Wait a bit, know that face...

The Broadway libretto edited it into its current form:

Please monsieur, come this way

Here's a child that ain't eaten today

Save a life, spare a sou

God rewards all the good that you do

Wait a bit, know that face...

It's interesting how Thenardier's facade shifts in focus from his own supposed hardship to that of an alleged child. I suppose the latter would be a good bit more effective in convincing passersby to donate!

During "Javert's Intervention", Thenardier now says "It was me that told you so, as opposed to the original "Wot told you so"; however, this seems to be a regional choice to account for a lack of Cockney accent, not an official libretto change. British productions retain the original "Wot".

“The Robbery” ends quite differently. Its pre-Broadway form had Gavroche’s remarks directly follow Javert’s “Clear this garbage off the street!” However, now Javert’s line is instead followed by some instrumentals to a slower version of the same tune as, for instance, “Honest work/Just reward/That’s the way to please the lord” and “He will bend/He will break/This time there is no mistake”.

After these instrumentals come the “Stars” number, now in a much more natural location given that Javert now has a logical reason to be thinking about Valjean!

The number itself is mostly the same, up until the final segment. After Javert’s “Those who falter and those who fall must pay the price”, he originally had the following lyrics:

Scarce to be counted

Changing the chaos

To order and light

You are the sentinels

Silent and sure

Keeping watch in the night

Keeping watch in the night

The post-Broadway show replaced this with a much more climactic remark:

Lord let me find him

That I may see him

Safe behind bars

I will never rest ‘til then

This I swear

This is swear by the stars

WOW, what an improvement! Now the stars are tied much better to Valjean himself, and Javert’s motivation is much clearer!

Now that “Stars” is over, we finally get Gavroche's remarks. The lyrics are the same; however, instead of the tempo progressively getting faster as it goes along, it now gets progressively slower. Interestingly the audio of the first preview has Gavroche saying "mother dear" instead of "auntie dear", but it's back to the original line by the second known original Broadway cast audio. Both audio feature Braden Danner; whether the "mother dear" was a choice on his part or a director's, a flub, or a libretto change that was later reverted is unknown.

"Eponine's Errand" has some significant changes. First off, the original libretto gave Marius and Eponine this exchange:

(MARIUS)

Did you see that lovely girl

(EPONINE)

A lovely two-a-penny thing

The Broadway libretto edited it a little:

(MARIUS)

Eponine, who was that girl?

(EPONINE)

Some bourgeois two-a-penny thing

Marius' request has also been changed from its original lyrics:

Eponine, do this for me

But careful how you go

Your father mustn't know

He'll strike another blow

'Ponine, I'm lost until she's found

Into some far clearer and more direct instructions:

Eponine, do this for me

Discover where she lives

But careful how you go

Don't let your father know

'Ponine, I'm lost until she's found

And yes, the line was "your father" right from day one. Michael Ball flubs it as "her father" on the complete symphonic recording, leading many to assume that was the original lyric which was changed later. But I'm not aware of a single live performance to use that lyric (which doesn't make a lot of sense anyway).

Another side note: Some Marius actors have very slightly changed the third line to "Be careful how you go" or "But careful as you go", though neither lyric is the standard.

Post-Broadway, as the instrumentals to "Red and Black" play, a student (I'm not sure which one) now shouts Enjolras' name before the singing begins.

During "Red and Black", Michael Maguire changes the original "It is easy to sit here and swat 'em like flies" to "Oh, it's easy to sit here and swat 'em like flies". However, this is an individual choice of the actor, not an official libretto change. Every future Enjolras I'm aware of (except Ramin Karimloo for some reason) uses the original line.

An actual libretto change occurs soon afterwards. After Marius' entrance, Grantaire originally asks, "Marius, what's wrong with you today?" The post-Broadway show changes this to "Marius, you're late. What's wrong today?" This makes it much clearer why Grantaire might suspect something is wrong.

Soon afterwards, Grantaire's original line "We talk of battles to be won, and here he comes like Don Juan" is slightly tweaked to "You talk of battles to be won". This is a little more appropriate, since Grantaire isn't actually doing a lot of talking!

After "Red and Black", Gavroche's part is very slightly changed. First off, American performances for a few years would have Gavroche whistle right before everyone quiets down, though I have no idea if this was in the libretto or not.

Secondly, Gavroche's original remark, "It's General Lamarque! He's dead!" is shortened to just "General Lamarque is dead!"

In another contender for the biggest change in the entire edit, the entire "I Saw Him Once" number is totally removed. I have mixed feelings about this. It does give Cosette, a frustratingly underwritten character, some additional content. However, stylistically it's not all that much like any other number in the musical, and it doesn't really add enough information to the show to warrant a whole song. So I say with regret that it was probably for the best to delete the number.

To compensate for the lost number, "In My Life" is lengthened to include the establishing character moments that "I Saw Him Once" originally did. Originally it opened as follows:

(COSETTE)

Dearest papa, can I tell him of this?

How can I tell him the things that I feel?

How could he understand?

(VALJEAN)

Dear Cosette, you're such a lonely child...

The post-Broadway opener is instead as follows:

(COSETTE)

How strange, this feeling that my life's begun at last

This change, can people really fall in love so fast?

What's the matter with you Cosette?

Have you been to much on your own?

So many things unclear

So many things unknown

In my life

There are so many questions and answers

That somehow seem wrong

In my life

There are times when I catch in the silence

The sigh of a faraway song

And it sings of a world that I long to see

Out of reach, just a whisper away, waiting for me

Does he know I'm alive? Do I know if he's real?

Does he see what I see? Does he feel what I feel?

In my life

I'm no longer alone

Now the love in my life is so near

Find me now, find me here

(VALJEAN)

Dear Cosette, you're such a lonely child...

After Valjean gives Cosette his cryptic defense of his secrecy, Cosette had a remark that is sadly incredibly hard to understand in the quality of the recordings we have. It apparently went something like this:

There are voices I hear

That come into my mind

Full of noise, full of fear

When the noise was unkind

In my life

I'm no longer afraid

And I yearn for the truth that you know

Of the years, years ago

Her post-Broadway response is much shorter:

In my life

I'm no longer a child

And I yearn for the truth that you know

Of the years, years ago

Shorter, but just as effective in my book. Plus, the use of the word "child" nicely ties into Valjean's initial remark that Cosette is "such a lonely child", as well as Cosette's frustration that he still sees her as "a child who is lost in the woods".

The next number, "A Heart Full of Love", also has a LOT of rewritten lyrics. First of all, after Marius' "I do not even know your name", these are his original lyrics:

Dear mademoiselle

I am lost in your spell

The Broadway production changed the lyrics into:

Dear mademoiselle

Won't you say? Will you tell?

I suppose this fits a little better with his remark about not knowing Cosette's name.

After Marius and Cosette finally learn each other's names (an important step in a relationship if you ask me!) this was their original way of showing their affection:

(MARIUS)

Cosette, your name is like a song

(COSETTE)

My song is you

(MARIUS)

Is it true?

(COSETTE)

Yes, it's true

The Broadway production rewrote it into the following:

(MARIUS)

Cosette, I don't know what to say

(COSETTE)

Then make no sound

(MARIUS)

I am lost

(COSETTE)

I am found

In my opinion, the rewrite captures the slight awkwardness of young love much better, as well as making a lot more sense!

Immediately afterwards, this is the original exchange:

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

A heart full of love

A heart full of you

(MARIUS)

The words are foolish but they're true

Cosette, Cosette

What were we dreaming when we met?

(COSETTE)

I can sing

(MARIUS)

Dear Cosette

(COSETTE)

A heart full of love...

The Broadway libretto redoes the scene as the following:

(MARIUS)

A heart full of love

(COSETTE)

A night bright as day

(MARIUS)

And you must never go away

Cosette, Cosette

(COSETTE)

This is a chain we'll never break

(MARIUS)

Do I dream?

(COSETTE)

I'm awake

(MARIUS)

A heart full of love...

Almost a totally different scene! The post-Broadway variant is better structured, but I do like the original too.

As the trio of Marius, Cosette, and Eponine exchanges inner monologues, Marius originally has the line "I saw her waiting and I knew". The Broadway libretto changed this to "A single look and then I knew". I kind of prefer the original, as it implies a little more than something as trivial as a cursory glance.

In the closing lyrical overlap of the song, Cosette originally sings "Waiting for you", but post-Broadway she sings "I knew it too". Then, she originally sings "At your call" but post-Broadway she sings "Every day".

During the opening to "The Attack on Rue Plumet", Montparnasse refers to Valjean as "the one that got away the other day" as opposed to his original "the bloke wot got away the other day". However, this is another regional change made for the sake of making sense outside of a cockney accent. The official libretto still had the original lyrics.

A tiny change occurs during Thenardier and Eponine's fight. Claquesous originally thinks it's a palaver and an absolute treat "to watch a cat and its father" picking a bone in the street. The Broadway libretto changed this to "see a cat and a father". Why exactly the writers felt the need to make such a miniscule edit is mystifying to me, but it certainly doesn't hurt anything.

Another change occurs later in the number, after Eponine's scream. Originally this was Thenardier's reaction:

Make for the sewers, don't wait around

Leave her to me, go underground

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

These lines were mixed up a bit for the Broadway libretto:

You wait my girl, you'll rue this night

I'll make you scream, you'll scream alright!

Leave her to me, don't wait around

Make for the sewers, go underground

The post-Broadway variation arguably is a bit less climactic due to it not ending on a threat. However, the original climax isn't all that appropriate since Eponine and Thenardier never actually interact at any later point in the musical. I like that the post-Broadway version ends on something that's actually relevant to the remainder of the show (namely, that Thenardier will be in the sewers). Evidently the West End producers didn't agree with me; this is another line in which the original was kept there for more than a decade (at which point a rewrite closer to the original was already being used worldwide)!

In "One Day More", Javert's "One day more to revolution" is slightly changed to "One more day to revolution". However, the number is otherwise unchanged.

And that's it for Act One! The opening barricade scene to act two has a small change. Grantaire's pre-Broadway "Some will bark, some will bite" was changed to "Dogs will bark, fleas will bite". Makes a lot more sense in my opinion!

The opening to "On My Own" is changed as well. Originally it was performed as follows:

And now I'm all alone again

Nowhere to go, no one to turn to

I did not want your money sir

I came out here 'cause I was told to

The Broadway version rewrote it into the following:

And now I'm alone again

Nowhere to turn, no one to go to

Without a home, without a friend

Without a face to say hello to

A huge improvement in my book. It actually rhymes now, and is far less likely to be misconstrued as ungrateful.

After receiving a massive overhaul not that long before, "Little People" was slightly tweaked for the Broadway show. The pre-Broadway version had this ending:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You’d better run for cover when the pup grows up!

Another line (taken from the original longer version of "Little People" as well as all versions of its reprise) was added for the post-Broadway show:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

We'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give up

So you’d better run for cover when the pup grows up!

Grantaire's line afterwards is literally reversed in meaning from the original "Better far to die a schoolboy than a policeman and a spy!" into "What's the difference? Die a schoolboy, die a policeman, die a spy!" This post-Broadway lyric fits better into Grantaire's cynical personality.

A very subtle edit is made in "Little Fall of Rain" (to the point that I only just realized its existence by reading an old internet forum!) Pre-Broadway, Marius asks Eponine "Did you see my beloved?" The tense is changed from past to present perfect for the Broadway libretto, so that he now sings "Have you seen my beloved?"

"Drink with Me" receives quite a bit of editing. The opening few lines are originally all sung by Grantaire:

Drink with me to days gone by

Sing with me the songs we knew

Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads

Here's to witty girls who went to our beds

Here's to them and here's to you

Now, those lyrics are split between various students:

(FEUILLY)

Drink with me to days gone by

Sing with me the songs we knew

(PROUVAIRE)

Here's to pretty girls who went to our heads

(JOLY)

Here's to witty girls who went to our beds

(ALL STUDENTS)

Here's to them and here's to you

A far more touching scene now that it entails an entire group of friends reminiscing about their lives, as opposed to the thoughts of one heavily drunk individual.

Originally this was followed by a segment by the male ensemble:

Drink with me to days gone by

To the life that used to be

At the shrine of friendship never say die

Let the wine of friendship never run dry

Then, this was followed by the same lyrics, but sung by the male and female ensembles overlapping. The Broadway libretto removes that and replaces it with an all-new segment with Grantaire. It's much more cynical and philosophical than his original lines:

Drink with me to days gone by

Can it be you fear to die?

Will the world remember you when you fall?

Could it be your death means nothing at all?

Is you life just one more lie?

The lyrics from the pre-Broadway show, in their male-and-female overlapping form, are played afterwards.

The next change occurs during the Second Attack. Pre-Broadway, this was how the opening lyrics went:

(ENJOLRAS)

How do we stand, Feuilly make your report

(FEUILLY)

We've guns enough but bullets running short

(MARIUS)

Let me go into the street

There are bodies all around

Ammunition to be had

Lots of bullets to be found

Some very small edits were made for Broadway:

(ENJOLRAS)

How do we stand, Feuilly make your report

(FEUILLY)

We've guns enough but ammunition short

(MARIUS)

I will go into the street

There are bodies all around

Ammunition to be had

Lots of bullets to be found

The following exchange also is a bit edited. Here's how it went pre-Broadway:

(ENJOLRAS)

I can't let you go, it's too much of a chance

(MARIUS)

And the same can be said for any man here

(VALJEAN)

Let me go in his place, he's no more than a boy

I am old and alone and have nothing to fear

Post-Broadway, it instead goes as follows:

(ENJOLRAS)

I can't let you go, it's too much of a chance

(MARIUS)

And the same is true for any man here

(VALJEAN)

Let me go, he's no more than a boy

I am old, I have nothing to fear

Finally, Gavroche's final lines are as follows pre-Broadway:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You’d better run for cover when the pup grows up

And we’ll fight like twenty armies and we won’t give…

A small edit is made for the Broadway production, so that the latter two lines are reversed:

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

We’ll fight like twenty armies and we won’t give up

So you’d better run for cover when the pup grows...

I'd say this is an improvement, since Gavroche's death is all the more impactful when his literal last unfinished words are about growing up.

Not long afterwards comes the Final Battle. Leading up to Enjolras' climactic moment, the original lines went as follows:

(ENJOLRAS)

Come on my friends, though we stand here alone

Let us go to our deaths with our face to our foes

(COMBEFERRE)

Let 'em pay for each death with a death of their own

(COURFEYRAC)

If they get me, by God, they will pay through the nose

(ENJOLRAS)

Let others rise to take our place

Until the earth is free

The sequence was edited for Broadway, giving a bit more breathing space:

(ENJOLRAS)

Let us die facing our foes

Make them bleed while they can

(COMBEFERRE)

Make them pay through the nose

(COURFEYRAC)

Make them pay for every man

(ENJOLRAS)

Let others rise to take our place

Until the earth is free

"Dog Eats Dog" is a very heavily-edited number. First off, the vamping at the beginning originally lasts about 30 seconds. By Broadway, it has been reduced to about nineteen seconds.

After Thenardier's "As a service to the town" line, he originally sung the following lines:

It's a world where the dogs eat the dogs

And the worst is as good as the best

It's a stinking great sewer that's crawling with rats

And one rat is as good as the rest

I raise my eyes to see the heavens

And only the moon looks down

That entire sequence was cut for Broadway.

Soon afterwards, Thenardier originally proclaims "Here's a little toy". The Broadway edit changes it to "Here's another toy", perhaps to make it seem less repetitive after his "pretty little thing" line.

The exact same lines from after "As a service to the town" are repeated in the pre-Broadway number after Thenardier's "When the gutters run with blood" line, with one more line added afterwards:

It's a world where the dogs eat the dogs

And the worst is as good as the best

It's a stinking great sewer that's crawling with rats

And one rat is as good as the rest

I raise my eyes to see the heavens

And only the moon looks down

The harvest moon shines down

Unlike the first instance of those lines, they aren't completely excised for Broadway. They are, however, significantly rewritten:

It's a world where the dogs eat the dogs

And they kill for the bones in the street

And God in His heavens, He don't interfere

'Cause He's dead as the stiffs at my feet

I raise my eyes to see the heavens

And only the moon looks down

The harvest moon shines down

I really like how the edited version focuses more on godlessness than on how gross the sewer is. Not that a lack of a god is inherently sinister; I am quite agnostic myself and I think the unbreakable connection between religion and morality alleged by some is ridiculous. But it is blatantly obvious that Thenardier sees no reason to be moral provided no one will punish him.

As a side note, the 1985 London official soundtrack oddly uses this variant, yet the 1986 bootleg audio I have uses the original. Perhaps the original was experimented with, reverted, and later put in again? Who knows...

After the number, Thenardier now shouts Valjean's name.

The encounter in the sewers between Valjean and Javert originally ended as follows, with Javert's first two lines here in a tune not heard anywhere else in the musical to my recollection:

(VALJEAN)

Come, time is running short

(JAVERT)

Go take him, I'll be waiting at the door

I've never met a man like you before

A man such as you

The sequence was extended for the Broadway libretto, to the tune of "Look Down" and the "Work Song":

(VALJEAN)

Come, time is running short

Look down, Javert

He's standing in his grave

(VALJEAN - simultaneously with the next two lines)

Give way, Javert

There is a life to save

(JAVERT - simultaneously with the previous two lines)

Take him, Valjean

Before I change my mind

(JAVERT)

I will be waiting, 24601

A slight change can be heard in "Every Day". Originally Marius sings that he and Cosette will "remember that night and the song that we sang". The Broadway libretto edited this into the decidedly less medium-aware "remember that night and the vow that we made".

"Valjean's Confession" has been reworked to the point that it can scarcely even be considered the same song. After Valjean's "There's something now that must be done", this was how the song went:

(VALJEAN)

Monsieur, I cannot stay a night beneath your roof

I am a convict, sir, my body bears the proof

My name is Jean Valjean

I never told Cosette, I bear this guilt alone

And this I swear to you, her innocence is real

Her love is true

Our love, our life, are now her own

And I must face the years alone

(MARIUS)

I do not understand what's the sense of it all?

Is the world upside down?

Will the universe fall?

If it's true what you say, and Cosette doesn't know

Why confess it to me?

Why confess it at all?

What forces you to speak after all?

(VALJEAN)

You and Cosette must be free of reproach

It is not your affair

There is a darkness that's over my life

It's the cross I must bear

It's for Cosette this must be faced

If I am found, she is disgraced

(MARIUS)

What can I do that would turn you from this...

After the Broadway rewrite, Valjean's "There's something now that must be done" is followed by this:

(VALJEAN)

You've spoken from the heart, and I must do the same

There is a story, sir, of slavery and shame

That you alone must know

I never told Cosette, she had enough of tears

She's never known the truth, the story you must hear

Of years ago

There lived a man whose name was Jean Valjean

He stole some bread to save his sister's son

For nineteen winters served his time

In sweat he washed away his crime

Years ago

He broke parole and lived a life apart

How could he tell Cosette and break her heart?

It's for Cosette this must be faced

If he is caught she is disgraced

The time is come to journey on

And from this day he must be gone

Who am I?

Who am I?

(MARIUS)

You're Jean Valjean

What can I do that will turn you from this...

The few lines afterwards are the same, but as you can see not much else in the song is! Even the tune diverges a lot between the two variants. I'm very conflicted about which one I prefer. I gravitate towards the final one, though it's nice that the original actually tried to address to confusing notion that Valjean wants to tell his son-in-law of his past yet not his own daughter.

"Beggars at the Feast" originally ended with a solo for Thenardier:

(THENARDIER and MME. THENARDIER)

We know where the wind is blowing

Money is the stuff we smell

(THENARDIER)

And when I'm rich as Croesus

Jesus, won't I see you all in Hell!

The Broadway libretto switched this to a group line:

(THENARDIER and MME. THENARDIER)

We know where the wind is blowing

Money is the stuff we smell

And when we're rich as Croesus

Jesus, won't we see you all in Hell!

I much prefer the revised version, as the two Thenardiers clearly are in this act together. It seems more appropriate to let them both have the last laugh.

A small change occurs in the Epilogue. Pre-Broadway, Fantine sings "You raised my child with love". However, post-Broadway, she instead sings "You raised my child in love".

Another change occurs later in the epilogue. In the pre-Broadway show, Cosette tells Valjean that "It's too soon to ever say goodbye". The post-Broadway libretto instead has her sing "It's too soon, too soon to say goodbye". Repetitive as it may be, I prefer it over the original because the original awkwardly combines language clearly denoting the moment with language implying eternality.

Phew, we're finally at the end! Rest assured this is almost certainly the longest changelog you'll ever be forced to endure. I'm fairly sure it's complete, but this particular rewrite was so extensive it's not impossible that I missed something. Please feel free to let me know if that is the case.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what’s commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, or some audios that you haven't traded in a few years, I’d love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye…

[writerinlearning]

Protocol - Part. I

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader; JaTP cast together; mentions of Owen Joyner x fem!reader

Summary: based on the song Protocol by The Vamps; or in which Charlie tries to deal with the aftermath of his fall-out with Y/n.

Words: 6,5K with the lyrics.

Warnings: pure angst, couple swear words maybe, mention of alcohol

Author’s note: I will began this author’s note with an apology to all who will read this. I’m sorry, for what I’m about to put you through. It’s a lot of angst. And when I say a lot, it’s the whole thing, so you’re warned. The idea came up to me when I innocently looked up the lyrics to Protocol by The Vamps, and well, this happened. It will be a three-parts imagine, all based on songs. I cried while writing this, and at the same time I was listening to the song; really not a good combination. In this part, and the following two, everyone has been aged a year (since it takes place in 2021). So basically, Y/N and Charlie are 23, Jeremy is 24, Owen and Savannah are 21, Madison is 17, Jadah is 16, Sasha is 18 and Tori is 20. Also, special thanks to my best friend @issaxcharlie for being my emotional support as I wrote, even if we were both a mess. I do hope you will enjoy this imagine, as much as I enjoyed writing it. (And I wanted you to know that I did not forget about the requests, I’m just having a hard time writing them. Bear with me)

Side notes: The lyrics to the song are in 𝒃𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒔; flashbacks are in italics, and what is between “quotes” in bold and italics are text messages.

Part Two -- Part Three

𝑰 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏’ 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏’      𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕

           Charlie knew the moment she had slipped through his fingers. He had recently been too busy with work, being away in Vancouver to film the new Julie and the Phantoms season. He did not call her every night like he promised he would before leaving her alone in their shared apartment in Los Angeles. That’s when she began slipping through his fingers, and that was almost three months ago. She grew distant when he managed to squeeze in a call or two in his busy schedule, and she always dismissed his words of apology and the empty promises he made over the phone. Charlie knew his promises were empty, but he hoped she would at least believe them; believe his empty words. He knew he had lost when she did not bother to tell him about her day in college, like she would usually have done any other day. Their relationship was falling apart, and he believed himself to be the one to blame.

           Charlie also remembered the day Y/n said she was leaving. He had managed to take a few days off from filming, flying back to Los Angeles in a hurry, excited to surprise her. Their fifth-year anniversary was coming up. But he hadn’t expected to be met with the entrance filled with brown boxes, all of them differently labelled, but always with her name on it.

           His brows were knitted together in confusion, creasing a frown on his forehead and his nose scrunching up lightly, whilst his hazel green eyes landed on her lanky figure waltzing out of the kitchen with yet another brown box in her arms. The smile on his face fell completely, his gaze softening when she carefully placed the box at her feet.

           The lines under her e/c eyes told him she had a rough day, the tiredness visible all over her features. Her h/c was tied in a high ponytail, a grey cardigan thrown over her shoulders and on top of a plain white shirt she had tucked into her black sweatpants. She was bare feet, as usual, but he knew the energy had worn-out of her body, the exhaustion she endured emanating from her.

           “H-hey,” he whispered, taking a step ahead only to have her take a step back. “What are all those boxes for baby? What’s going on?”

           He was clearly lost; he thought everything was fine between the two of them, she had seemed happy over the phone when he called her the previous night, to let her know he had more free time to call her every day. Charlie never thought she had been planning to leave.

           “I’m moving back to my parents’.” She spoke slowly, her voice cold and empty from any emotions. “I can’t do this anymore Char.”

           “W-what?” He asked, slightly stunned. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

           Y/n sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand as she ran the other through her ponytail, a low frustrated sigh stumbling upon her lips. She could feel the tears prickling her eyes, and she had to throw her head back to prevent them from rolling down her cheeks. She knew if she cried now, she would give into his warm embrace and back out from her plan. But she couldn’t do it anymore, not when she was suffocating.

           For the past year, since the release of the first season of Julie and the Phantoms, Y/n had been the one to put all her efforts into the relationship. Where Charlie neglected her, she always made sure he had everything he needed because she loved him. She just couldn’t do it anymore, tired of always be the back picture of his life now.

           “That’s the problem Charles,” she ended up saying, her eyes meeting his for the first time. “You never understand.”

           “What do you mean baby?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

           “I’m leaving. I’m going back to New Brunswick; my dad’s picking me up tomorrow.”

           “But I thought… I thought we were fine.”

           “We were… for a while. But I just can’t anymore. You’ve been neglecting me Charlie; for a whole year! I thought… I thought we could work this out, but I’m suffocating. I just… I can’t anymore…”

           “I-I-I… I can try to fix this!” He exclaimed; the worry evident in his voice. “I’m sorry, please… let me fix this. I promise to do better. I-I-I… I love you Y/n!”

𝑵𝒐 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔                                            𝑺𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒄𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔, 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒓

           There was no room for forgiveness, as much as Charlie tried. Y/n was stubborn; he should know after been her best friend since they were seven and dating her since they were eighteen. Guilt slowly sunk down on him the next morning as he woke up in an empty bed. The left side of the mattress was cold, but the sweet scent of her vanilla shampoo still resided on the pillowcase she used to sleep on until last night, when she slept into the spare room of their apartment.

          He heard the doorbell ring, pulling him out of the bed and he slipped on an old black sweater, making his way to the entrance hall, and he saw her standing in the doorway, hoisting brown boxes into her father’s arms who stood on the other side. He ran a hand through his sloppy brown hair, eyes fluttering shut for a short second, before he made her way towards her and helped her with the boxes that waited to be loaded into the trunk of her father’s car down in the parking lot. Y/n glanced at his figure, a grateful thin-lipped smile etching on her lips as they both headed for the elevator with the last of her boxes.

          Charlie did not dare to cross the eyes of Mr. Y/L/N, knowing he was the reason behind Y/n’s broken heart. He did, however, see from the corner of his eyes the man load the remaining boxes and frames into the backseat of his car before Mr. Y/L/N took his seat behind the wheel and waited for his daughter.

          Y/n stood in front of him, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her sweatpants. Her hair was tied in a make-shift bun on top of her head, the lines under her eyes a dead giveaway of the short night she had. But her lips still curved into a soft smile when she looked up to him.

          “I’m sorry Y/n,” whispered Charlie, his voice wavering as he tried to hold back his tears. “Please… let me fix this, whatever this is… I-I-I… I love you…”

           “I know.” Her voice didn’t waver despite the tears on her cheeks. “But this…” She waved a hand between the two of them. “Whatever we had… It has been broken for too long Charlie… Maybe it can be fixed, maybe it can’t.”

           “I can try!” His voice cracked, not caring about the tears coming through. “Please baby, please. Let me try…”

           “I can’t Charlie; not yet. If this… if whatever there was between us was meant to be, we’ll found our way back to each other one day. I just… I need time for myself, time to heal. And you bubs, you need time to sort yourself; understand what it is that you really want. I will always love you Charlie. Always.”

           Y/n’s voice wavered for the first time since last night. One last time, she looked into his puffy red eyes; the hazel green colour of his irises glistening with the tears welling up in his orbs to follow the path of those already rolling down his cheeks.

           She pressed the palm of her hands on each of his dampened cheeks, rubbing her thumbs over his reddened cheekbones to wipe away the tears; her touch soft against his skin, like it had always been. A small broken smile crept upon her lips for a second time, her e/c irises scanned his features silently, their heavy breath and the birds chirping being the only sound around them.

           Charlie knew it would be the last time he’d be this close to her; he had messed up. But despite what he thought and the guilt he felt, he took it upon himself to enjoy this last shared intimate moment with her; the girl he had been in love with since he was eighteen.

           His hands moved of their own accord, settling onto her hips, and he pulled her closer; their chest pressed against one another. His lips, chapped and dry, ghosted over hers, his eyelids dropping over his orbs in case she’d pull back and walk away from him. But she was the one to bring his face closer, closing in on the few inches separating them as she crashed her lips against his own; her own damp cheeks sticking to his.

           Their lips moulded together, like every other time they shared a kiss, but both knew this one held a different meaning. He swiped his tongue against her lips, and she granted him access one last time, their tongue fighting each other for some kind of control over the other, as if their life depended on it.

           Y/n let him be in control, tears slowly falling down her cheeks like candlewax, and only pulled away when she needed air. She licked her lips, the feeling of his own lips lingering on hers, and she glanced one last time at him, caressing the side of his face. She allowed her hand to run through his hair, twirling a strand around her fingers before she let her hand fall back to her side.

          A trembling exhale stumbled upon Charlie’s lips as he watched her turn her back towards him, opening the passenger’s door of her father’s car and getting inside the vehicle.

          He could see the suitcases, the brown boxes, the frames and the pictures which held so many of their shared memories, on the back seat of the car as Mr. Y/L/N drove away from the underground parking of what used to be their apartment building.

          Charlie knew this wasn’t the end; that is was a ‘see you soon’ rather than a ‘goodbye’. But, as her father drove away, he knew he had lost her.

𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝑰 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏  𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕

           Charlie knew he fucked up. And he had no idea how to tell his parents he had lost his best friend, his girlfriend, in one day. They had loved her from the start, she was basically a part of the Gillespie family. His sister and his brothers, even his parents, always teased them about a potential wedding during family dinners. And for a moment, he truly believed he would end up marrying her. She was perfect, even with her flaws, and any man would be lucky to have her by their side.

           Charlie had been one of those men; he had never meant to neglect her, and he sure as hell did not think she felt like she was suffocating in this relationship. Landing a role on the new Netflix series Julie and The Phantoms almost two years ago had been the opportunity of a lifetime, and Y/n had been nothing but supporting, encouraging him even more when he got the role.

           When they filmed the first season, she had spent days on set just to see him in action, growing close to the cast in the process. Especially Jeremy and Owen, who quickly became her best friends. She considered Jadah and Madison like her little sisters, and Charlie was over the moon when he realized she got along just fine with his castmates.

           Even when they were quarantined together because of the pandemic, they still kept in touch with the rest of the cast, bounding even more. They went to Hawaii together, and everyone thought Charlie and Y/n would end up getting married, just like the Gillespie family did.

           Charlie never thought they would end up there, parting ways. Of course he was aware she wouldn’t be as present on the set of the second season of Julie and The Phantoms because she was busy writing her thesis for her college master degree.

           But suddenly, he regretted having declined her offer to come to Vancouver when she had a whole two weeks of free time. He remembered telling her she shouldn’t come and that she should focus on her thesis; he knew how important it was to her. Now that he had lost her, he wished more than ever to have agreed to her offer. And that was two months ago.

           From that day onward, Y/n declined each of his calls until he eventually stopped calling, but she never bothered to call him back, and Charlie never understood why. He had dropped it, probably too busy with her thesis to pick up the phone like he believed she was when in fact, she began planning on leaving; take time for herself.

           Everyone on set noticed the change in Charlie, but no one said anything. Not even Jeremy nor Owen knew exactly what happened two months ago, though they were Y/n’s closest friends, and they worried about Charlie.

𝑨𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔                𝑮𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆

          The day she left; Charlie stayed up all night. He laid on his bed, the bed they used to share together, in a starfish position with his puffy eyes focused on the ceiling above. His cheeks were red, his orbs sunken into their sockets and his lips dry. He barely ate and did not even bother to pick up the phone when Owen called.

           All he could think about were the midnight talks him and Y/n used to have before falling asleep in each other’s arms; her voice echoing in the back of his mind.

           “Where do you think we’ll be? In ten years?”

           Her voice was soft as she spoke, her fingers drawing circles on his exposed torso, while her head rested on his chest. He was running a hand through her hair, his fingers gently grazing at her scalp, his eyes half-closed as he looked down at her. He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, humming softly as he thought of an answer. He didn’t have to, already knowing where he saw himself in ten years, but he didn’t want her to know he had been thinking about it for a long time now. He gathered his thoughts together, finally deciding on an answer.

           “Well…” he trailed, his hand moving from her hair to draw circles with his slender finger on the exposed skin of her shoulder. “I see us, together. You have a silver ring with a small diamond on your ring finger, and you’re standing in the kitchen of our newly-bought house, trying to cook some pastas. I see you looking over the French windows in the living-room, smiling up to me as our four-year-old son comes running into my legs. Your face is lit up by a bright smile, and you have a hand on your round stomach.”

           Y/n smiled softly at the thought, stopping her movements as she shifted around, pressing her palms against his pectoral muscles and resting her chin over the back of her hands, and she looked at Charlie through her lashes.

           He smiled sheepishly, his hands moving to her back, his fingers softly brushing her naked skin along her spine.

           “How long have you thought about it?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.

           “Can’t I just imagine a future with you by my side?” He answered back instead, lifting his head up to capture her lips in a quick kiss.

           Y/n giggled, the sound vibrating from her chest to his, and she pressed her lips against his in a firmer kiss; lips moulding together like they always did.

           Charlie chocked back on a sob as he reminisced the memories. The future he had imagined for them now only a creation of his mind; no more kisses nor good mornings and good nights, and he was the only one to blame.

           He shifted around on his mattress, the bedsheets wrinkled under his weight, and he looked at the closed bedside drawer, visible under the moonlight passing through his window.

           Swallowing the lump in his throat and with a trembling hand, Charlie took the handle inside his palm, pulling the drawer open. Everything was left untouched; she hadn’t gone through it; she knew to respect his privacy like he knew to respect hers. But for once he wished she had gotten a little bit curious, when he spotted the little black velvety box in the corner of the drawer, left untouched.

           He took the small box between his fingers, opening the lid slowly to reveal a simple yet beautiful silver ring with small-encrusted diamonds, a slightly bigger one in the middle. He would have proposed in two days, on their fifth-year anniversary. He had planned it all in his head, but because he had selfishly put himself first, all his plans went to waste. All gone, and it’s what he deserved.

𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒚 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒐𝒄𝒐𝒍 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒏’ 𝒂, 𝒇𝒊𝒙𝒊𝒏’ 𝒂 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

           When Charlie flew back to Vancouver the next week to film the rest of the Julie and The Phantoms season two, he knew his friends would notice. Hell, Jeremy and Owen were probably already aware of what had happened between him and Y/n a week earlier, because he knew her, and he knew she would have at least called one of them.

           When Charlie walked on set that day, he wasn’t sure he would be able to go through all the scenes he had to film; on in particular. He was to film a scene with Madison, where they characters Luke and Julie fought together about a new character in the series, Carmen, and whose goal was to bring the Phantoms back to the Hollywood Ghost Club, under Caleb Covington’s orders. Where Julie believed Carmen was a nice girl, Luke believed she was just as bad as Caleb, if not more. Charlie wasn’t sure he would be able to handle a fight scene, after his fight with Y/n.

           Madison was the first to notice Charlie’s reluctance when he walked on set with his hands in his pockets and his head hanging low. Her brows knitted together in concern, and she glanced over her shoulder to lock eyes with Jeremy, who stood by Kenny behind one of the cameras.

           When Jeremy noticed the worried expression on Madison’s face, he raised a brow, waiting for her to elaborate on her confusion. And when she nodded towards their castmate, his face instantly fell into once of concern. He vaguely knew what had happened between his friend and Y/n, from the things Owen had told him a couple days ago, but he had never imagined it to be this bad from the way Charlie looked.

           His fellow castmate was slouched on the black-leathered couch in the made-up studio, his head thrown back against the back rest and his eyes tightly shut, his hands turned into fists on his lap.

           Jeremy watched as Madison took careful steps towards Charlie, taking a seat beside him on the couch and putting her hands over his to get his attention. Once in a while, he glanced around in hopes of spotting Owen on set, before realizing the blond actor had no scenes to shoot that day.

           When Charlie lifted his head up at Madison’s touch, the girl finally noticed the redness in his usually bright green eyes, and the tear streaks staining his cheeks, his desperate orbs pleading for any signs of comfort.

           She instantly pulled him into her arms, his own finding their way around her back, and he tightly held onto her, breaking down. He buried his head in her neck, tears escaping his eyes as sobs racked through his already shaking body, and Madison tried her best to comfort him, running her hands up and down his back.

           “Is everything okay Charlie?” Madison asked once he calmed down and pulled away from her, wiping the tears on his cheeks.

           Charlie shook his head negatively, his bottom lip quivering as Y/n crossed his mind, and he swallowed the lump in his throat to prevent more tears from rolling down his face. He would need another trip to the make-up artist trailer, that’s for sure.

           “Did something happen with Y/n?” Madison quizzed, not knowing what had happen between the couple.

           It was an innocent question, but enough for Charlie to break down again, ragged breaths leaving his mouth as his chest heaved up and down rapidly.

           Madison’s eyes widened; something definitely did happen to Y/n, but she had no idea what and it worried her.

           “What’s wrong Charlie?” She asked, holding his hands in hers to try and calm him down. “Is Y/n alright?”

           For the second time since he walked on set that day, he lifted his head to look at Madison. He took his lower lip between his teeth, thoughts racking at the back of his mind. He had no idea how to answer; he was at loss for words. It’s been a whole two weeks since she left, and he had no idea how she was doing, if she were as miserable as he was, or if she was doing just fine. He wouldn’t blame her if it were the latter, but he knew her too well to know she wouldn’t just leave five years of relationship behind like it was nothing. After all, they were best friends first, before everything happened.

           He didn’t know how to answer Madison, nor any of his friends when they asked him the following days how Y/n was doing, because he himself didn’t know. He had broken his own heart at the same time he had broken hers, and he had no clue how to mend them. He wanted to; he just didn’t know the protocol for fixing a broken heart.

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒘 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒆𝒘���� 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕

           It took a month after the break-up for the rumours to start. Y/n had become quite famous within the Julie and The Phantoms fandom by being Charlie’s girlfriend, and the fans were quick on picking up the clues. They noticed the lack of photos from Charlie’s Instagram account with his girlfriend, or how his apartment seemed emptier during the couple of lives he managed to do when the release date for the second season of the show was announced, even if there were a few scenes left to shoot.

          They noticed the way he looked during interviews for his other projects he had filmed beside JaTP whenever Y/n was mentioned, because neither of them had officialised their break-up.

           Most of all, they noticed the pictures Y/n posted on her profile. She was located in New Brunswick, hanging around with the friends she had left behind when she and Charlie moved in together in Los Angeles. She never lost contact with them, and Y/n enjoyed spending her time with them again.

           It’s when those pictures came out that the rumours started. Everyone now knew Charlie and Y/n weren’t together anymore, an no one knew the real reason for their fall-out. The fans thought Y/n had cheated on Charlie, picturing her as the bad girl and always mentioning Charlie under her posts, telling him she’d been the bad girl all along.

           Even his friends and castmates, except Owen, began to believe the rumours, and Charlie didn’t have the strength to tell them they were wrong. However, he couldn’t deny it hurt him, to see so much hate under Y/n’s pictures that she had to disable her comments and turn her account private. He hated it when someone would comment on something she did, but he never said anything in return.

           “I know I never said it before,” said Sasha once, “but I always thought Y/n was a bit too much. And I know you were crazy about her Charlie, don’t get me wrong. She just appeared to me as the bad type of girls; that she was nothing but bad news.”

           Charlie hadn’t said anything to defend Y/n, ignoring the pleading look Owen was giving him. The blond had spent his last month trying to convince the Canadian actor to tell the truth to the rest of the cast, but Charlie always dismissed him. He knew he had fucked up, and though he missed Y/n to the point he barely even slept, he had no one to blame but himself. Yet, whenever one of her pictures showed up on his Instagram feed, he couldn’t help the soft smile tugging on his lips when he saw her bright smile on the picture she posted; how she would scrunch up her nose as her smile etched to her ears. It was a smile he loved to see on her; it suited her well. He was happy, even though he was hurting inside.

𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆, 𝒏𝒐

           When Julie and The Phantoms season two was done and wrapped up, the cast wanted to celebrate the moment. Of course, Charlie was reluctant, like he had been the past month whenever they were going out, but this time he was pulled by Owen and had no choice but to comply. When the night sky fell upon the city of Vancouver, a few members of the cast went into the nearest bar from where they had filmed the Netflix series, to celebrate the end of filming. The little group was composed of Madison, Jadah, Savannah, Tori, Sacha, Jeremy, Owen and, despite his multiple refusals, Charlie. And, even if only four of them were of legal age to drink alcohol, all eight of them (seven more likely) managed to enjoy their celebratory night.

           That same night, Owen turned into Cupid-mode, trying to hook up Charlie with a random girl to make him forget about Y/n. That’s how he ended up in the middle of the dance floor with a blonde young woman at his arm. The alcohol from his two glasses of whiskey and Coke began to work their way through his system as he danced with the girl, side-glancing towards his friends who were cheering him on.

          But Charlie couldn’t get Y/n out of his mind, even as he danced with pretty girls and shared a drink with them when they walked over to the bar. He couldn’t even take Y/n out of his mind when that beautiful red-haired woman kissed him and he kissed back, both of them intoxicated by the alcohol they had consumed.

          Y/n was all he could think about, even after their night out and he was back in his own bed at the place him and Owen rented, and nothing could change that. No one ever came close to Y/n, even when Jeremy and Madison set him up on blind dates the following two weeks. Y/n was his person, and he had lost her.

𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ’𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆’𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕’𝒔 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕)

           Charlie knew Y/n hadn’t told her parents what had happened, even if her father was the one to pick her up from the apartment they shared. If he knew Y/n, he was sure she had lied to her father about her motives for wanting to go back to New Brunswick.

          When Mrs. Y/L/N called him on a fine autumn evening, a month and a half after his fall-out with Y/n, he didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth either. If he did, Charlie knew the woman would tell her husband, and that was just one more broken heart.

          The only words he mustered up were that things weren’t how they used to be between him and Y/n, and he could clearly remember the conversation that followed.

           “I don’t understand Charlie,” Mrs. Y/L/N sighed over the phone and Charlie was sure she was pinching the bridge of her nose. “What happened to you proposing to my daughter? I remember you nervously asking my husband for her hand. What happened to that?”

           Charlie had contemplated on the right answer, but truth was, he had no idea on how to. He had let out a low sigh, sitting himself up on his bed, moving his cell phone onto his other ear.

           “I know,” he finally answered, defeated. “I thought proposing to her would make things better, but the truth is, Y/M/N, our relationship had been falling apart for a while now. I don’t think proposing would have made things better.”

           He had blatantly lied to her that evening, but in that moment he could only think about Y/n and how she would have hated him even more if he had told her mother the truth.

𝑨 𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒋𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒚𝒔 𝑶𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕

           After the phone call, Charlie laid back down in his starfish-like position, eyes on the ceiling as tears escaped the corner of his eyes.

           The world seemed to burn around him as he thought of all the adventures and journeys they shared together, first as best friends and then, as lovers. It sent his heart plummeting to the pit of his stomach, making him sick to the core and rendering him breathless as he cried himself to sleep like he had been since the break-up. Sure, it’s only been one month and a half, and you cannot just throw five years of relationship away like that, but every night he wished she was here next to him, running her hand through his hair as they fell asleep.

           When he woke up the next day, he hadn’t expected the text displayed on his lockscreen. She had texted him, for the first time in six weeks.

“I’ve heard you finished filming the second season of JaTP, congrats! :)

I’m sure it’s going to be amazing; you guys always work hard to make it perfect. I can’t wait to see it.”

           That’s all the text said, and it brought a smile to Charlie’s face. Despite their fall-out, she was still supportive of him, and maybe; just maybe, their story wasn’t over. After all, six weeks ago, she did tell him they would eventually find their way back to each other if their story was meant to be.

           But, as much as he wanted to answer, he couldn’t find the courage to do so. He didn’t want to bring back any unwanted memories to her, and instead of answering, he pressed his thumb against the blue bubble of her text, clicking on the grey thumb up above it.

           In less than two weeks, Charlie would realize it had been a terrible idea, and his beliefs of a future with her as his best friend, the same as when they were seven, burst into flames and fell apart.

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆

           Every night during those six weeks, Charlie would try to call her answerphone, dialling the number of the vintage phone that sat on her bedside table in her bedroom upstairs, in her parents’ suburban house.

           And every time he called, he hoped she wouldn’t answer; it was easier to speak with her answering machine.

           Charlie waited four rings before he was redirected to her voice mailbox, and he let out a sigh of relief when he heard the beeping sound, allowing him to leave a message.

           “Hey, it’s me again.” He said softly. “It’s been six weeks since we parted ways and I just wanted to apologize again for not answering your text three days ago. I wasn’t sure you would want an answer from me. Owen told me you’re doing fine most of the time, but I’m convinced he doesn’t tell me everything. From what I know, I can tell you guys got closer. I’m not mad, I know he’s your friend as much as he is mine and I would hate it if you stopped talking to them because of me. They all love you. I still do.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “I know you must be annoyed by now, because of all the voicemails I’m leaving. And I’m sorry. I hope you’re doing alright tonight; I know I hurt you that day. And I hope that one day, you can find in you the strength to forgive me, because I miss my best friend. I love you Y/n; take care of yourself. Say hi to your parents for me. Bye.”

           And just like that, the line went dead, signalling him he had almost been cut off in his voice message.

           Charlie had no clue if Y/n would ever listen to her voicemail, but he kept on leaving them every other two days. It made him feel better.

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰’𝒎 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒅𝒐𝒆𝒔𝒏’𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒆 ’𝒆𝒎 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝑰’𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝑰 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕

           But there was a night where Charlie had it bad. It was two weeks after Y/n had sent him that text and he hadn’t answered properly. The whole day his mentions kept blowing up, but Charlie thought nothing of it, trying to get his mind off of Y/n and the best way to do so was to not look at his social media.

           When the sky turned dark over Los Angeles that night, Charlie settled in the crème-coloured sofa in the living-room. The TV was on, playing some random episode of Friends in the background as he decided to sort out his mentions.

          Charlie never expected to see the pictures taken by nosey paparazzies. Y/n was in the centre, her h/c hair cascading over her shoulders as her head was thrown back. The sun from that day was reflecting in the round sunglasses she wore; it matched the black leather jacket she had put over a plain white shirt. Her face sported a bright smile, one that carved dimples in her cheeks, and she had a hand over her stomach while the other held a tall cup from Starbucks and her phone.

          For a second, his lips went upward into a smile, and he scrolled down to have a look at the other pictures. His stomach twisted into knots and his heart plummeted to the ground as he scrolled down. Y/n wasn’t alone; she was in Owen’s company.

          Charlie’s brows turned into a frown, his nose scrunching up and the combination of the two creasing wrinkles on his forehead, whilst his grip tightened around his phone. He wasn’t mad or angry, but Owen was one of his best friends and he would have liked to know the blond had planned to fly over to Canada to see Y/n.  

           When he opened his Instagram account after, he was once again bombarded with mentions from his fans under the same pictures. On top of that, he had watched both Owen’s and Y/n’s Instagram stories, and the acid-like substance from the pit of his stomach came back up his throat. He couldn’t be angry; he hadn’t seen the smile on Y/n for long. He knew it was genuine, one he hadn’t had the chance to see in over a year, even when they were still together.

           And everything, everything that went wrong between the two of them until the inevitable fall-out of their relationship rushed back to his mind like a train wreck. He remembered the nights before he left for Vancouver where he could hear her soft sniffles when she believed him to be asleep. He remembered the lack of touch from her as he left to catch his plane, but he had blamed it on the stress she was under. He had blamed everything on the stress she was under due to her thesis. Charlie never once thought it was because of him.

          He didn’t notice the tears streaming down his cheeks until he heard himself sniffle, and he threw his phone into the empty armchair opposite to the sofa he sat on, before he walked over the kitchen cabinet and grabbed the first bottle of alcohol he could find through his blurred vision. So much for finding their way back to each other when Y/n was away having fun with one of his best friends. He wasn’t mad; he couldn’t be angry at either of them. They were as much friends as he was with Owen, but in those pictures they seemed to be so much more. Charlie truly believed he had lost the only woman he has ever loved in all his life.

           He grabbed the first empty glass he found on the kitchen counter and poured himself half a glass of whiskey, drowning the whole thing in one gulp before making himself another one.

           He wanted to numb the pain in his chest; forget about the new feeling that crept under his skin. Charlie was jealous of his friend, and the only way he found to drown the feeling was alcohol. Reckless? Yes, he knew as much. He could have screamed, call both Y/n and Owen when the thought crossed his mind; he could’ve called them names, but he never wanted to risk losing their friendship and decided against it.

           He once again manoeuvred his way to the crème-coloured sofa, the bottle of whiskey in one hand and his empty glass in the other. But the drink didn’t help suppress the jealousy. It didn’t help him forget about everything that had happened the past eight weeks, nor the pain residing in his chest since the breakup. Charlie knew drowning the bottle of whiskey would only result in a massive headache in the morning.

           He laid down on the couch, the back of his head against the armrest while he threw his legs over the backrest, and he closed his eyes shut. A heavy breath left his lips as he tried to gather his thoughts.

           Regret filled him; the pictures of Y/n and Owen together stuck to his retinas whilst her smile haunted him. He didn’t know if it were the alcohol in his system or something else, but the voices in his mind; the ones of his friends and of Y/n, they kept shouting and screaming at him. He could see himself in the corner of a room, his knees pulled up to his chest as his friends towered over him, snarky grins on their face, and Y/n stood in the middle with her arms crossed over her chest. She had the same tender look, but the frown that creased her forehead showed a different aspect of her, one he had only seen once, and that was when they broke it off.

           Charlie tried to muster up the words he wanted to say to her, cowering when the voices became louder in his mind and the tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

           That night, he fell asleep on the couch fighting the wars inside his head. He had fucked up, and there’s was no way for him to fix what had been broken long before the fall.

༄

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Dance With Me Under the Stars

@yeah-im-a-fae-deal-with-it, I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun making it and I hope I did the wishes justice. Happy Holidays!! (Much of the imagery was based on the song Volcano by The Vamps.)

@sanderssidesgiftxchange

Word Count: 3993

It was mid semester and Virgil had arrived late to class for the first time in his three years of college. He hurried in quietly, taking his usual seat and pulling his books out. Almost shamefully, he grabbed his homework and walked between the desks to put it on the teacher’s.

He must have had the worst luck in the world as, just then, she turned around. “Ah, Mr. Storm. I was wondering when you’d show up.” Her tone was kind, no note of malice anywhere.

Virgil nodded. “I forgot to set my alarm.” His voice was quiet, barely reaching past the professor.

She nodded with a smile that seemed genuine. “Go back to your seat, please. Just as discussed yesterday, you’ll be debating Mr. Croft in a few minutes.”

Virgil trudged back to his seat, slipping past the others to sit in his usual corner. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to find Logan Croft, a double major in zoology and astronomy who was taking this class for fun, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Virgil ignored him, turning back to his notebook and doodling in the margins as he waited for the professor to finish taking attendance.

He got through half the page before he was being called up to debate, as per usual. He and Croft were only put against each other as examples or if the lecture finished early. This was mainly due to them both being stubborn in their ways and being able to debate things for hours. Thus, they were both called into her office the day before to confirm the topic and style of the debate.

There they stood, on opposite sides of the same plain. It was a familiar position for the pair during their debates. While many would have seen a peaceful place within that plain, maybe even a spot to build something, the two students only saw a battlefield with the fight yet to be fought, yet to be won. Their words danced across the plain, leaving wounds that didn’t mean a thing outside of that moment. A struggle for dominance raged before, as it always did, they came to be equals that saw eye to eye.

Their debate lasted for the first half of class before they came to some sort of agreement on their topic and sat down to listen to the teacher give a lecture on what just happened. After class, Croft caught up with Virgil on his way out. “That was a good debate today, Storm.” He said. The battlefield was back to a plain, nothing special about it.

Virgil looked at him briefly before just shrugging and walking up the stairs. He didn’t bother to look back or wonder why the student who usually avoided him unless it was during these debates was talking to him. He just knew he needed to get to class.

A day later, he was running to dance class and missed a step. Crashing down the stairs, he landed at the bottom in a haze of pain. He tried to move but found that his vision was blurry and his ankle was broken. Someone nearby gave a shout and he heard footsteps on the stairs. A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched, coming face to face with the person who lived across the hall from him.

“Virgil, what happened?” Emile said, eyes looking concerned.

The dancer didn’t even lie to the psychology major he knew only in passing. “I fell.” He shook his head, trying to get his vision to focus on something, anything. “My ankle hurts.”

Emile nodded and moved to look at it. Gently pressing, he inspected the joint. Virgil hissed when he pressed on it and Emile sat back. “Yep, that’s broken.” Sighing, he moved to help Virgil to his feet, throwing the dancer’s arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got time before my next class so I’ll take you to the nurse before I go tell you’re dance teacher you won’t be able to make it today.”

Virgil shook his head, hobbling along beside him. “No, I’ll tell her later.”

Emile frowned. “You know Professor Kim is not going to be happy about this development. She was counting on you being there through the whole semester.”

Virgil just laughed, shaking his head. “Since when do you talk with her?”

“Since I came to drop off your lunch that day and she was the only one there. We struck up a conversation about you.”

Virgil nodded. “Fair.”

Emile pushed the door open and sat Virgil in the nurse's office before leaving with a wave, tossing an, “I’ll be back in a bit,” over his shoulder. Virgil waited for the nurse to come and diagnose him, soon being rolled out on a gurney on his way to the hospital to get a cast on his broken ankle. He’d also been told that he had a concussion but that wasn’t the main concern.

A few days later, debate class was back in session and Virgil was there in a cast, crutches by his side. Croft came in and eyed the crutches before setting his bag by his usual chair. He didn’t sit down as Virgil thought he would, rather coming over to stand by Virgil’s seat. He nodded his chin at the cast. “What happened there?”

Virgil was taken aback by the care in his voice, a voice that had previously remained so neutral while talking to him that it was borderline monotone. He shrugged as he continued to grab his books out of his bag. “I fell.”

Croft raised his eyebrows, looking about as convinced as he would if Virgil had just told him the sky was magenta. “You fell? Why don’t I buy that, Storm?”

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe the truth, Croft.”

He huffed, his eyes melting into the concern that was evident in his voice. Opening his mouth, he seemed to be about to say something but thought better of it, going to sit down instead just as the professor walked in. She paused by his desk. “Professor Kim told me about the ankle. You don’t have to debate for the rest of the semester if you don’t feel up to it.”

Virgil shook his head. “Standing won’t be a problem as long as I have the crutches.”

She nodded. “Still, I’d like to let you rest for a bit.”

Virgil shrugged. “I’m fully capable of standing and debating but I’ll follow your lead on this.” She gave a final nod and moved to stand at the front of the room to begin class.

Thus, six weeks went by. Virgil did essays on dance and movement instead of performing the dances. Professor Kim insisted on recording the lessons so he’l still be able to do them when he’s recovered, which he was immensely grateful for. Debate class went similarly in that he wasn’t called up as often to debate Croft anymore. Instead, he wrote most of his debates as argumentive papers.

That summer, Virgil stayed on campus. He wasn’t taking a summer course, he was simply trying to follow the videos Professor Kim left for him. He lived nearby anyways so it made sense to keep using the studio on campus. That’s how he ended up running into Croft again on the stairs. 

“Oh,” the other student said, bag in hand as he was clearly trying to put his books back in it, “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Virgil smiled, holding up the gym bag that had replaced his book bag. “The studio is allowing me to catch up on my dance lessons over the summer.” He paused. He and Croft had never been too cordial with each other, merely remaining civil. However, toward the end of the semester they'd come to some sort of academic truce. Now, they were just normal strangers, just two students. So, Virgil took a chance. “What about you? Why are you still here?”

Croft finally shoved the last book into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m having to retake a class due  to low grades.” He shook his head. “I just can’t grasp the subject.”

“What is it?”

Croft sighed. “Psychology.”

Virgil nodded and, on a whim, gave an offer. “I passed Psych with flying colors if you want me to tutor you?”

That plain, that had once been a battlefield before lying dormant, became a meadow in that one moment. No longer a place for duels or violence, but peace and healing. Their once shaky truce seemed to settle, becoming something more permanent, as Croft smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

They walked side by side as they discussed times and tactics for studying. They concluded that their only overlapping free time was directly after Virgil was finished with dance practice as that was when Croft got out of his classes and clubs but before Virgil had to go to Professor Kim’s office for office hours.

So, the very next day saw Virgil walking out of the shower room, towel he’d been drying his hair with still in hand, to see Croft leaning against the wall in the hall. “I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes or so.” Virgil said as he approached.

Croft looked up from the book in his hand. He briefly glanced at the page number before snapping it shut and picking up his bag. “Apologies, I like to be early.”

Virgil just waved his hand as they fell in step beside each other. “It’s fine. Next time, you don’t have to wait in the hall if I’m not in the shower, you can just sit in the room. As long as you’re quiet, you’ll be fine.”

Croft nodded. “Noted, thank you.”

They made it to the library and sat down, both pulling out books. When Croft gave Virgil a puzzled look, he laughed a bit. “I’ve brought my notes and blank copies of homework to use as practice problems. First, I want to gauge just how bad off you are.” he set down the cumulative final review. “Fill this out to the best of your ability.” Croft set to work, a serious expression on his face. Virgil didn’t want to twiddle his thumbs while waiting so he pulled out his phone and opened it to a new note, beginning to plan out his evening.

Once that was done, he looked up to see Croft with his tongue sticking out slightly, hair in his eyes, and eyes focused on the page. Strangely, there was something beautiful about the concentrated look on his face. Maybe it was the way the sunlight dramatized it and cast his eyes into shadows, making Virgil want to stare until he could see where the iris ended and the pupil began; maybe it was the way his hair framed his face in a way that made Virgil want to pull out a sketchbook.

Feeling self conscious at that thought, he looked back down at his phone and ignored the other student until he heard a pencil connect with the table. “Alright, Storm, I’m done.”

Virgil nodded and slid the page over to himself, quickly checking it against the answer sheet he’d made up. He gave Croft a grade, circled it, and slid it back. A sharp intake of breath came back as Virgil pulled a clean piece of paper closer to himself and began to write down what needed to be worked on.

“Is it really that bad?” Croft’s voice came from Virgil’s side.

He paused in his writing to look up at his former academic rival. He shrugged. “It could be worse. You don’t seem to be too bad off right now and we’re gonna try to get you to where you need to be as soon as possible.”

Croft nodded and away they went. The next few weeks were spent in a new routine. Croft would wait in the hall if Virgil was in the shower but most times Virgil had lost track of time and gone over, resulting in Croft sitting in the corner reviewing definitions. A few times, one of his clubs wouldn’t meet and he’d get out earlier than normal. Those were the times that Croft would sit in and make sure Virgil wasn’t putting too much strain on his ankle and was properly hydrating. Those were the times they’d strike up a bit of witty banter that reminded them of their debates but on a personal level that the debate class was lacking.

One step at a time, they came closer on that meadow until they were standing side by side, leaning on the other. As they grew closer, the meadow rose as if two tectonic plates were pushing it toward the sky. Over the course of that one season, the meadow had become a mountain of a friendship. Their banter began to spread outside of just those rare moments, becoming a constant part of their meetings, tutor sessions, and walks. 

It wasn’t long before the summer semester ended and they had a few weeks of vacation before the next semester. As the days shortened and the leaves turned colors, Virgil almost expected Croft to go on his way. After all, the agreement was done. Virgil had finished learning all the moves he’d needed and Croft had passed his classes with the usual flying colors. 

Still, tutor sessions turned into chats over coffee, dancing changed to walks in the park, but their late night talks on the way back to their apartment building stayed the same. Virgil enjoyed that constant, knowing that no matter what else happened that day, he could walk back to the apartment building with Croft. It was one such walk that it struck him. In all their time together, he’d gotten closer to Croft and no longer saw him as the academic rival they’d been at the start of the year. Instead, he saw him as a friend, or even more than that.

Just when Virgil was satisfied and comfortable with the balance they’d created together, fate tossed a spark gently onto the mountain. In that instance, the mountain turned into a volcano. In that one instant of time, Virgil had fallen for Logan Croft and he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had no idea how he’d tell him, or even if he would tell him. After all, volcanoes can stay dormant for years before going extinct or erupting. Virgil could just wait and hope it was the former or deal with the latter.

The next few weeks were much the same as that with the exception that Virgil was noticing every little thing that Logan did. He noticed the way he leaned toward Virgil as they talked, the way his focus was entirely on the dancer during conversations. Logan was always walking on Virgil’s left side, the ankle he’d broken mid spring semester that acted up occasionally but especially on stairs. He noticed Logan holding doors for him or smiling at him for no particular reason.

All of this gave Virgil a spark of hope in his chest that had him wondering if Logan liked him back. That spark was almost crushed one afternoon. They had just gotten their coffee and started their usual round about the park when Logan spoke. “I might not be able to do the full rotation today, Storm. I’ve got a date with Roman later.”

Virgil felt like his chest had just been stomped on. “. . . A date?” He didn’t know how he kept his voice steady when his heart was breaking, getting closer and closer to shattering the more he thought about those two words.

Logan tilted his head to the sides. “Maybe ‘date’ is the wrong word for it. It’s more like a meet-up.”

Virgil nodded, pretending he hadn’t been holding his breath through that whole exchange. “Okay, when do you have to leave?”

“About half an hour.” He turned and smiled. “Plenty of time.”

Virgil smiled and walked ahead, turning to face Logan as he walked backwards. Logan shook his head. “That’s not the safest way to travel, you know.”

Virgil just shrugged. “There’s worse ways to travel.” He also got to see the rare grin that spread across the zoology major’s face, not that he would tell said student that.

Their walk in the park ended with them standing at the entrance. “I’ll see you later, Storm.” Logan said by way of parting.

“Wait! Later as in tomorrow or later as in-”

He laughed, something that was even more rare than his grin but something Virgil longed to hear more often. “Later today.” Virgil nodded, walking back to his apartment alone.

On a whim, he grabbed his gym bag, stuffing his dance shoes in it, and went to the studio. He scrolled through his playlist as he entered before just hitting shuffle and letting the music play as he got ready. He waited for the next song and took a second to identify it before throwing his hoodie off and moving to the center of the room. 

He went with the music, letting his body flow in whatever way it wanted. Incorporating all the moves he’d learned over the past few months into a cohesive whole that was both as graceful as saplings in the wind but as sharp as the flapping of cloth. He danced to forget his troubles and anxieties, letting them bleed into the movements. A faster song came on and he changed his movements to match, becoming sharper as he let himself get lost in the music, lost to the beat of his feet against the floor, the feeling of the air on his sweat, the feeling of dancing and being free and feeling on top of the world.

When the playlist ended and his muscles were screaming for him to rest, he collapsed onto the floor, panting for breath. When he felt like he could stand, he moved to check his phone clock and found that he’d spent the whole afternoon dancing. Quickly, he showered and made his way back to his apartment. He was still overheated after dancing for a few hours straight so he just had his hoodie slung over his arm, his gym bag over his other shoulder.

He got back to his apartment to see Logan with a fist raised to knock. Smiling, he moved around him and unlocked it. “Come on in.” He dropped his keys in the little bowl on the entrance way table. “I’ve just gotta put this stuff away but it won’t be long.”

Logan smiled, standing comfortably in the entryway. “Take your time, Storm, I’m not going anywhere.” 

For a brief moment, Virgil wondered what his first name would sound like in Logan’s voice. He didn’t dwell on it, instead he nodded, ducking into his bedroom to store his bag where it belonged. Taking a second to put on some extra deodorant and move his hair around so it looked semi-styled instead of the mess it was before, he took a deep breath. The scare of losing him that afternoon had made Virgil realize that he needed to act fast before he lost Logan for real.

So, he kept the hoodie across his arm as he went back out and picked up the keys again. “Ready to go?”

Logan nodded. “Quite.”

Virgil held the door open for him, locking it on his way out. They started down the path in relative silence, the only noise being the crunching of gravel beneath their feet and the sounds of life coming from nearby buildings. Virgil was hesitant to break the silence despite the feelings and words bubbling below his surface. Logan also seemed comfortable in the lack of conversation. They made it to a bench that was out of the way and sat on it to stargaze for a bit.

Virgil tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the bench. His eyes scanned the sky, resting on different stars and connecting them into constellations. After another while of silence, Logan shivered beside Virgil and the dancer turned his head, looking at the astronomy major. “Are you cold?” His voice broke the silence like a sheet of ice falling from a slope.

Logan shrugged. “A bit. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Virgil hummed and threw his hoodie over the other. “No use in you getting cold when this is right here.”

Logan didn’t react beyond tilting his head down just the slightest bit. He hummed, taking a breath before speaking. “Apologies again for having to end our afternoon walk early.”

Virgil waved his hand. “It’s fine. In fact, it actually gave me time to think.”

Logan looked over at him, eyes inquisitive behind his square black frames. “What about?”

Virgil took a deep steadying breath of the night air before he turned to face Logan just a bit more on the bench. “About you, actually. I realized something when you said you had a date with Roman.”

Logan nodded, his gaze sharpening as his attention seemed to hone in on Virgil. “Okay.”

Virgil fiddled with the rips in his jeans, suddenly anxious. “I realized that if I didn’t act now, someone else might be walking by your side in the park, laughing with a coffee in hand. Someone else might have the door you knock on late at night when you can’t sleep, be the person you debate with over the phone into the early hours of the morning.” He took another deep breath, not looking up at the wonderful human sitting in front of him, the one who deserved the world. “I realized that I love you and can’t stand the thought of another person getting to hold your hand and kiss you goodnight.” He turned his head so he was staring out into the night rather than at Logan. “There, I said it. I love you. I love you so much my chest aches.”

Logan hummed in a way that Virgil couldn’t interpret before there was the rustling of fabric and Logan was kneeling before Virgil, one hand hovering near the dancer’s cheek. “I’m glad you told me as it makes what I’m going to say much easier.” Virgil’s eyes widened slightly, fearing the next thing to come past Logan's lips.

“I love you too. Honestly, I think I’ve loved you since the start of the fall semester. The way you helped me study, putting things into ways I can understand and bending over backwards to do so. The care you take with everything you do, the grace in your every move, the fire and passion you put into your dancing, I love all of you.”

Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing but his nerves settled when Logan’s soft expression didn't change, didn’t turn to a sneer, he didn’t laugh or mock Virgil. Elated, he leaned forward but paused before he could connect their lips. Logan smiled at the quiet ask for consent and leaned in with him, closing the distance and bringing him into a kiss. His hovering hand settled on Virgil’s cheek as Virgil’s hand came up to cradle the back of Logan’s neck, neither wanting to let go.

When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. Logan pulled the hoodie tighter around his shoulders before standing, offering a hand to Virgil to stand as well. An idea came to him and Virgil put his hand in his pocket, pulling his phone out to play a few ballads. “Dance with me under the stars?”

Logan grinned, sliding his hands to be around Virgil’s neck. “I’d love nothing more.”

So, the two did just that, dancing the hour away under the midnight stars. In the arms of the one they loved, the same person who had been their greatest enemy at the start of the year, neither could ask for a better way to spend their time.

[nad-zeta]

hi i love you single mom!MC headcanon!! If you can and have the time, can you make a continuation with the rest of the suitors? It's so cute. 💞

Anon: I’ve read your HC of single mother Mc with son and i really loved it 🤧🤧💖💖💖 so i was wondering if you could do it too for Arthur, Mozart, and Dazai? It will means alot for me, thanks 💖💖

（＾3＾）~♪  Hi hi loves Thank you so so much for the request! I’m so happy u guys like the first 2 I did, legit makes my day! So just a side note these last vamp boi I know the least well of the lot, so I’m sorry if it is not as good! Also, I already did Arthur so feel free to check that one out on my Mastelist! Love ya guys, and I hope you have the best day! 

Single mom MC: Jean, Mozart, Dazai, Shakespear and Sabastian

Sabastian

The first moment you walk through the door and Sabastian spots the child clinging to your leg, he does an internal sigh (´Д｀)

It hard enough cleaning up after grown men all day, but throw a child into the mix.....

Only what Sebastian didn’t know was that, instead of having to clean up after the two new people, he had actually gained two new helpers to aid him in his duties

Your son was a bit of a perfectionistic neat freak and honestly hated disorder 

You had a mini heart attack when you woke up that moring to find your son missing  ゞ◎Д◎ヾ

You ran around the mansion frantically looking for him ᕕ(╯°□°)ᕗ

Only to spot him and the butler sitting together polishing the silverware for breakfast (◕ᴥ◕)

When the boy spotted you, he ran up to you with the biggest smile “Mother, mother look, Sabastian is teaching me how to clean the silverware” (｡◕‿◕｡)

“Is that so, I do hope he is not exploiting you and making you clean it all on your own” ⚆ _ ⚆

To that Sabastian simply flicked you on the forehead “I would never.”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Honestly, Sabastian was thankful for the extra hands and he found that with the two of you helping him out, things got done a lot quicker and he had much more free time (▀̿Ĺ̯▀̿ ̿)

Your son absolutely loved helping Sabastian and often while they cleaned he would play his favourite song 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

It was during those rare times that the stoic butler actually smiled ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

You walked into a scene of Sabastian and your son singing at the top of their lungs and dancing as they made breakfast （＾3＾）~♪

The second Sabastian spotted you spying at them from the doorway, he dragged you into the kitchen to join the fun ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

You couldn’t help but smile at this new goofy side of Sabastian dancing with the broomstick as he swept the floor （ーoー)♪

You son stood on a chair in front of the stove using the spatula as a mic, while he sang and flipped pancakes (☆￢o)q

The three of you were always together (｡◕‿◕｡)

Whether it was going shopping for supplies or sitting late nights sipping on wine and polishing cutlery it was always a good time (=^_^=)

You had come to really enjoy Sabastians dry sense of humour

Your son couldn’t help but smile as his mother and favourite butler laughing while joking around and washing the dishes  ✿◕ ‿ ◕✿

He sent up a secret prayer in hopes that soon Sabastion wouldn't just be a butler but be his new father (人◕ω◕)

Mozart

The second you walk into the dining room with your child hiding behind you, Mozarts signed   ｜−・;）

“That’s just great, do you know how filthy children are, they are the main carriers of bacteria and germs.” (；一ω一||)

Mozart DOES NOT LIKE KIDS (／‵Д′)／~ ╧╧

In his eyes, they are just messy nuances 

Despite the harsh words from the pianist you and your son received a warm welcome from the other residents  

That night as you were sound asleep (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)

Your son woke up abruptly from a horrible nightmare (◯Δ◯∥)

Before he shook you awake, he heard a melody in the distance

(๑>ᴗ<๑) （＊＾ω＾）♪

He climbed down from the bed, and two tiny feet followed the sound of the music  ε=٩(●❛ö❛)۶

Your son stood in front of a big door 

He gently pushed it open and peeked through the cracks

｜。・）

That’s when he saw Mozart absolutely absorbed in his musicヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

He stood in the doorway and stared at him in awe ~(˘▾˘~)

Slowly and quietly the little boy made his way in the room to get a better listen

 ┬┴┬┴┤(･_├┬┴┬┴

Soon he found himself sitting right beside Mozart (｡◕‿‿◕｡)

When the last note of the melody echoed off the walls, Mozart looked down in shock and horror to see the little thing sleeping on his lap (ʘᗩʘ')

He sat and stared at the boy in horror, he was paralyzed and not sure what to do (ʘ言ʘ╬)

He then decided to pick the boy up and take him back to your room

But as he cradled the boy in his arms the little thing seemed to cuddle up to him (◠‿◠✿)

This absolutely melted Mozarts heart (>人<)

He rolled his eyes and tucked the boy into his own bed, he got in next to the child. he carefully made a pillow barrier between them

That morning Mozart woke up to little boy cuddled up next to him 

(´∩｡• ᵕ •｡∩`) ♡

The boy was kinda cute

It was at that moment Mozard gave one of his rare smile, perhaps the child isn’t as bad as he thought (◕ω◕✿)

He taught the boy how to play the piano 

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Most afternoons he sat beside Mozart and would watch as he played

Just as your son had quickly taken a liking to the pianist, so have you

Often you would sit in the music room with your son cradled in your arms just listening to the beautiful melodies produced (^_^♪)

Everyone in the mansion would know when you or your son was with Mozart as his music would change from dark and moody to light and airy, romantic even ♫꒰･◡･๑꒱

Slowly but surely Mozart let his guard down and let you and the boy into his heart and it wasn't long before the two of you were in a relationship

He would often carry the boy around on his shoulder wherever he went

Mozart still didn't like children but your son had seemed to break down the walls around his heart, and Mozart couldn't help but take up the role as the boy's father

“Momo, come quick Napoleon made pancakes for breakfast and if you don’t hurry theo is gonna eat them all up.” (◕‿◕✿)

Mozart would just about do anything to make you and the boy happy

 It had become a new tradition for the boy to wake Mozart up every morning to eat breakfast together with you and him 

“We can’t have that now can we little, Maus.” 

(ㅇㅅㅇ❀)

Often you and your son will be cuddled up to Mozart in the music room while he plays the two of you a nighttime melody. (*^.^*)

Dazai

Dazai spent the better part of your stay avoiding you and your son

He didn’t want to dim your bright, pure lights with his dark past 

But like a moth to a flame, he couldn’t get away from the bright, innocent light, the two of you omitted (◕‿◕✿)

You son instantly took a liking to Dazai, the first time he saw the man jump through the window to greet the two of you he was in awe 

 (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

“Wow you are so cool, window man! Can you teach me to climb through windows like that.” (｡◕‿◕｡)

Cue your heart-stopping in your chest (ʘ‿ʘ) 

Where ever Dazai was, your son wasn’t far behind, he pestered the poor writer 24/7 (◕▿◕✿)

The two of them often teamed up to pull pranks on the castle residents, i.e. Arthur 

“Hey hey window man you know what would be hilarious, if we replace Arthurs shampoo with syrup.” (¬‿¬)

Cue the two of them snickered at the breakfast table, as all that can be heard is the mystery writer scream from the shower 

(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

Dazai didn’t even realize it, but soon his sad smile had turned into a genuine smile whenever you or your son was near ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

The two of you cuties had successfully pulled Dazai out of the dark shadow of his past with your goofy shenanigans ੭•̀ω•́)੭̸*✩⁺˚

As you see your son got his mischievous playful streak from you

As it wasn't just your son who would team up with the writer to cause a bit of trouble  (¬‿¬)

What was the day Dazai knew he had just found his new family well that’s simple..

One day your boy came bursting into your room “Mommy, Mommy, I know how we can make window man super happy.” (｡◕‿◕｡)

You tilted your head quizzically as your boy laid out the plan 

That morning the two of you had gotten up at the crack of dawn to set your plan into motion! 

Dazai had woken up to the little scamp jumping on top of him “Window man. I have a surprise for you.” (｡v_v｡)

“Nooooo just 5 more minutes” Dazai rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head

This made the boy jump up and down on the bed while smacking Dazai with a soft pillow, “Wake up, wake up, wake up, your breakfast is going to get cold” (　･ω･)っ≡つ

Dazai cracked a smile and then grabbed the boy in his arms and started tickling him ( ﾟヮﾟ)

Your son was beaming with pride as he led Dazai to the big willow tree in a secluded part of the garden (▰˘◡˘▰)

The boy then started to climb up, “Come on, breakfast is going to get cold if you don’t hurry.” ◔ ⌣ ◔

Dazai couldn’t help but beam at the little boy, 

He climbed up the tree behind the boy and noticed a treehouse at the top which hadn't there before �(ﾟ□ﾟ*川

He entered into the house, and his breath caught in his throat 

The walls were painted in the colours of the bright pink sakura tree, and in the centre of the small room laid a feast with his favourite miso soup

He didn’t know If he wanted to laugh or cry, the whole setup reminded him of home and the soup tasted just like his mother’s soup ≧☉_☉≦

He pulled you into his arms and kissed your cheek, never had anyone ever done something so thoughtful for him

Since then the treehouse became a sort of safe-haven where the three of you would spend time together plotting your next prank, reading books or just chatting ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

One night as he read his latest poem to you and your son, he looked down to see the two of you fast asleep (︶｡︶✽)

He kisses both of you on the forehead and looked out the window into the calm night sky, and he thanked the universe for sending him these two extortionary people into his life

The light of his life, his new family  (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ )

Jean

Jean hadn’t been there to meet the two of you when you arrived

He had arrived back to the mansion late that night to a buzz

He felt unsettled and decided to find Napoleon to ask for a sparring match

You son woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t fall back asleep

(๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)

He was a bright-eyed curious child, he took one look at your sleeping face, smiled and climbed down the bed to go and explore his new surroundings

(◠‿◠✿)

He wandered around the castle in awe of everything {*≧∀≦}

He spotted a room that still had its lights on, he was curious to see who was awake at this late hour, so he snuck his way up to the door

  (｡◕‿◕｡)

He cracked it open slightly to see two men fencing inside ｜ｏ゜）

He was awestruck, he quietly walked in and sat down watching the two men fight

̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з= ( ▀ ͜͞ʖ▀) =ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

When the sparring match was over the boy excitingly raced up to Jean and bounced up and down (⁎˃ᆺ˂)

“wow, you are soo cool, can you teach me how to fight like that, omw is that an eye patch, are you a pirate.” ﾐ☆( *uωu人)+ﾟ.

He asked question after question, not even giving poor Jean a chance to respond ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

Napoleon came up to the two and put his had on Jeans shoulder and ask if he would like Jean to teach him to fight

The boy nodded profusely “Please, please, please, please, please.”

Poor Jean didn’t stand a change between the excited little boy with stars in his eyes and the charismatic emperor (ʘ‿ʘ)

Jean thought himself a monster, he didn’t want to taint the bright, pure little boy, so the next morning he decided he was going to tell you and the boy to say faaaaar away from him 

Or that was his intention, but how on earth did he now land up in this position, the little scamp was now before him, dressed in a full fencing outfit swishing around Napoleon's sword

 (´・ω・)っI

“h-hey stop you are going to hurt yourself.” (>ლ)

At that, the boy stopped, and all his attention was now on Jean, despite being terrified he still patiently taught the boy how to fence 

And after the lesson, Jean walked into the dining room with your son on his back, laughing in delight \ (•◡•) /

Your son had pestered Jean into giving him a piggyback ride 

At the sight of pancakes your son jumped off of jeans back and ran to investigate the spread of food on the table ┗(^o^　)┓三

Jean tiredly slid into one of the chairs, the little boy was definitely a boundless ball of energy just bouncing around from one thing to the next 

You poured Jean a cup of coffee and placed his breakfast in front of him, and thank him for keeping your son busy while you helped out Sabastian

“mademoiselle, I urge you and your son to stay far away from a monster such as my-“

 ヾ(￣o￣;)

Before he could even finish his sentence your son now sat himself down on Jean’s lap and started pilling his plate full of pancakes (◕▿◕✿)

“Mamma mamma, have you met my super nice friend yet, his name is Jean.” ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

“He's gonna show me how to fight and be super cool just like him” 

You chuckled and sat across from the two and chatted with the shy man

Your son freaken loved Jean and followed him around wherever he went

Honestly, you had also taken a liking to the shy man, although it wasn’t until you and your son spotted him in church, that you really started spending time together  (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)

After church the three of you would go to a café and have breakfast together, this had become a sort of tradition 

Soon You and Jean had fallen in love

  (◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

Jean never thought a monster like himself could fall in love yet here he was with you cradled in his arms, as your son ran around chasing around Arthurs dog ⊂(･ω･*⊂)

One night, your son had a nightmare and he immediately made his way to Jean’s room 

HE climbed up onto the bed and shook him awake, tears streaming down his face 

๐·°(৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐

“I- I had a nightmare, can I please stay with you.” Beady eyes stared pleadingly up at Jean  (つ﹏<)･ﾟ｡

“But I am a monster, you should be afraid of me.”  (≖͞_≖̥)

Your son cradled jeans face in his hands “No, you are the nicest person I know, and i-i hope one day you will be my papa.” ༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

Shakespear

The first time you two cuties meets the poet is when you visit him with Vincent

Honestly, you were a long time fan of Shakespear so you were super excited to meet the poet ＼(^o^)／

Honestly, Shakespear had to cover his eyes cause the sight of his dearest friend and 2 new guests beaming at him, it was simply too bright to look at

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

He invited the three of you in and honestly you were so excited

“oooh dear me it seems I have run out of tea”, before he could even finish his sentence Vincent was already offering to go and buy more (◕‿◕✿)

Once Vincent left, you and the Shakespear sat down and conversed in some light conversation (ᵔᴥᵔ)

Your son had gone off to explore Shakespeare home when all of a sudden he appeared out of nowhere with a ball of fluff in his arms (ㅇㅅㅇ❀)

“Mommy mommy, look what I found, a cute fluffy bunny” U｡･.･｡U

Shakespear honestly was shocked, his little rabbit would never let anyone get within 2 feet of him, let alone be carried by them ◉_◉

The bunny cuddled up in your son's arms and the look, of pure bliss on your sons, face brought a sweet smile to yours ( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )

When Shakespeare saw that smile grace your face he lost his heart there and then 

(⋈◍＞◡＜◍)。✧♡

Since that day you and your son would often visit the poet and have some tea with him

Shakespeare always felt the need to cause trouble, he loved tragedies after all, but when it came to you and the boy he couldn’t bring himself to bring either of you pain or despair ლ(･ω･*ლ)

Your boy love loved loved Shakespear and not just because he had a pet bunny (▰˘◡˘▰)

Often you would drop him off at Shakespear for the day, while you and Sabastian would do the mansions shopping

Shakespeare couldn’t help but crack a found smile at the boy chasing the rabbit around his home ｡◕‿◕｡

Your son loved visiting Shakespear, as often they both dressed up and reversed the lines for Shakespeare’s new plays ლ,ᔑ•ﺪ͟͠•ᔐ.ლ

THB the two of them goofing around in random outfits actually inspired many new plays （ ´థ౪థ）

After your shopping trip, you would walk into Shakespeare’s home to the sight of both of them wearing ridiculous costumes, with your little boy snuggled up in Shakespears lap fast asleep, as Shakespear reads to him the newest play’s plot (︶｡︶✽)

Shakespear smile at you and beckons you closer

You cuddle up beside him and rest your head in the crook of his neck

“I see the two fo you had some fun today.” (◠‿◠✿)

“The little rascal keeps me on my toes, that’s for sure” (✿◠‿◠)

Shakespear gives you a sweet kiss and then recites his newest poem to you professing his undying love for both you and the lil boy nestled up in his arms  ♡｡ﾟ.(*♡´‿` 人´‿` ♡*)ﾟ♡ °・

I hope you guys enjoyed it! And I hope you have a good day! (｡◕‿◕｡)

[jisungsmochi]

lovestruck - park jisung

lovestruck - park jisung by jisungsmochi 

NEW SERIES ALERT: i’m doing short fics for the dreamies based off songs by The Vamps! stay tuned for the rest hehe <3

college!au, whipped jisung, lots of fluff and teeny bit of angst but not really 

word count: 3.3k

summary: “i’m hung up, i’m shook up, i’m lovestruck”

park jisung wasn’t the one to ask someone out, god he didn’t even know how to properly cook ramen. but from the day he met you, he needed to know you. he wanted to love you, it was something he couldn’t shake away. but what do you do when you’re heartbroken yourself, and there’s a lovestruck boy pining over you?

//

Excuse me miss,

I don’t ever do this,

Must admit i’m pretty nervous,

But just incase you say yes.

jisung was terrified to start his first semester at college. the fact that he just scraped by to get accepted, was already feeding into his nerves. he was worried he wouldn’t make any friends, or be able to keep up with the course content. no matter how many times jeno and jaemin tried to drill into his head that they’d be there to help him through it, the younger boy had a hard time believing in himself. his first day wasn’t the best, he was lost on campus for a solid 30 minutes, missing half of his first lecture. he couldn’t shake the image of rows of people staring at him as he rushed to a seat in the theatre. he felt his cheeks burn at the embarrassment, attempting to hide behind his laptop screen. from the corner of your eye, you noticed the flustered boy, sitting three seats away from you. the seats were empty, giving you a clear view of the dark haired boy. you tuned back into the lecture, thoughts of him still lingering in your mind.

jisung didn’t notice you until the third or fourth lecture. you always sat in the same spot and so did he. naturally, you both started noticing eachother. at first you exchanged small glances, kind of like ‘are you getting this?’ and other times, jisung would catch himself staring at you, zoning out the voice of the lecturer. he thought you were utterly mesmerising. from the way you pushed strands of hair behind your ears, to the way your face contorted into confused expressions. jisung wanted to get to know you, he felt like it was something he needed to do.

so he went to the two people who were experts at both relationships and the college lifestyle.

“okay so you think she’s pretty?” jaemin raised his eyebrows, attempting to catch popcorn in his mouth while sitting on his bed in his shared dorm with jeno.

“pretty is an understatement. she’s just...i don’t know how to explain it” jisung smiles to himself, feeling giddy inside.

“do you know her name?” jeno continues, admiring how flustered the younger boy was becoming.

“uh, not exactly. i mean, i think i heard someone call her before, but i can’t be sure” jisung pouted, realising that he truly didn’t even know your name.

“gosh jisung! you don’t even know the girl’s name, and you’re pining over her already?” jaemin teased, throwing popcorn at him.

jeno started scolding jaemin for making a mess, while trying to give his best advice to jisung.

“why don’t you approach her before the lecture, so you both can have a conversation and then you can ease into asking her to hang out with you?” jeno suggested, but the thought of doing so, had jisung worried.

“i can’t do that, it’s not me. you guys know i’m shy” he softly sighed, lowering his head. the two older boys looked at him in pity, both coming to his side.

“don’t be like that, just try to talk to her, and if she flat out rejects you then she’s not the one okay? you gotta put yourself out there! it’s what college is about” jeno continued to comfort him.

“yeah exactly! and what would happen if you didn’t talk to her? you’d just be creepily staring at her until she has to tell you to stop” jaemin shrugged, causing jeno to throw a pillow at him.

“don’t listen to that idiot, just be yourself and i’m sure she will be more than happy to talk to you” jeno patted jisung’s shoulder, slowly beginning to calm down the anxious boy.

here goes nothing.

the very next lecture, you found yourself arriving to the theatre earlier than you thought. you slept through one of your many alarms, panicking that you were going to be late. you opted to sitting on the staircase outside the theatre, waiting for everyone else to arrive. jisung also arrived earlier than usual, but for the sole reason that he needed to rehearse what he was going to say to you. so when he saw you sitting on the staircase with no one else in sight, he froze. you noticed his presence, instantly recognising him as the boy who sat three seats away from you. you gave him a small smile before continuing to tap on your phone. jisung held his fists tightly together, going over the his prepared script one last time, before approaching you.

“uh excuse me....miss” he blurted, causing you to stop what you were doing. you looked up at the flustered boy, shocked he was speaking to you.

“did you really just call me miss?” you softly chuckled, standing up to face him. you were standing on the second step of the staircase, almost making you eye level with him.

“y-yes? i don’t usually do this, actually i’m kind of nervous. wait where was i again? oh yeah, i’m hoping you’ll say yes, but uh do you want to like, hang out after this lecture?” jisung stammered, as you followed along with each word. you couldn’t help but smile, he was cute, and you couldn’t deny it. but you hoped that this was nothing more than a friendly, classmate outing. you weren’t ready for anything more than that.

“yeah sure, jisung” you nodded, watching as his eyes shot open widely.

“you know my name?” he stuttered,

“yeah, you have your name on your laptop case, you know that right?” you giggled, watching as the realisation hit him. jisung just chuckled along, stringing on about random things as you both entered the lecture theatre. he took the initiative to sit next to you this time, softly whispering to you about all sorts of things. he finally made a friend.

I had to ask,

If you already had dinner plans,

I know you probably have a man,

But if you happen to be unattached.

“alright jisung, what is it now?” jaemin opened the door to the younger boy who had woken them up by banging on their door at 8am.

“i need more advice” he rushed into the room, noticing how messy it had gotten. he stepped over random items on the floor before waking jeno up by hitting him with a pillow.

“i’m too tired to be mad right now” jeno groaned, pulling himself up to rest against his head board. jaemin shuffled back into his bed, ready for another update on operation lovestruck jisung.

“i want to ask her to go out to dinner with me” jisung started, the two boys now slowly becoming more interested.

“big move, dinner is a huge step from just hanging at the cafe on campus” jeno commented as jisung shot him a glare.

“yes i know, but i really just want to ask her to see if she’d say yes” jisung assured himself as the two boys just shrugged,

“you worry too much, she seems like a good person, don’t be too frantic” jaemin sighed, ruffling jisung’s hair before walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

maybe jaemin was right, jisung thought to himself. just play it cool.

you and jisung were at the campus cafe once again, reviewing the notes from this week’s lecture. it was a regular occurrence for the both of you to hang out like this. you didn’t think much of it. but today, jisung was acting more jittery than usual. he wouldn’t look at you and was always on his phone. you weren’t exactly annoyed at him, but curious as to what was bothering him.

“are you okay? you don’t seem like yourself today” you commented, hoping he would talk to you about it.

“ahh yeah i’m fine, just hungry i guess. i could go for dinner” he started, but you cut him off,

“oh my god! dinner! jisung you just reminded me, i have a dinner date with my boyfriend soon” you instantly remembered  beginning to pack up your stuff.

“wait boyfriend?” he intended to say to himself, rather than aloud.

“oh y-yeah, it’s kinda fresh? i would have told you about it but i’m still waiting to see if it’s serious. i’ll let you know how it goes? i’ll send over any annotations i finish when i can! see you jisung!” you smiled softly, giving his shoulder a small squeeze before rushing out of the cafe.

boyfriend. of course you had a boyfriend. jisung didn’t stand a chance.

I'd sing your name over the airwaves,

Crash your couch and sleep off or stay awake.

If not tonight, maybe tomorrow,

'Cause I'm hung up, I'm shook up,

I'm lovestruck.

jisung was laying in his bed, indulging in a random crime show on netflix. he tried everything to get his mind off of you, but nothing seemed to work. of course you had a boyfriend, how couldn’t you? you were absolutely stunning, with the most charismatic personality, jisung had ever witnessed. he felt like a fool for even thinking he had a chance. 

his thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. he furrowed his eyebrows, not expecting any calls. but when your name popped up on his screen, he immediately answered.

“hello?” he greeted, curious as to why you were calling him so late at night.

“jisung” your voice cracked, which had jisung concerned.

“are you alright? what happened?” he questioned, listening as you let out short sniffles.

“he stood me up. i looked like an idiot, waiting for him outside the restaurant. god, i’m so lucky i didn’t go inside and actually get a table” you tried to lighten up the mood but it clearly didn’t work. jisung didn’t know what to say to you, he was shocked that someone could ever stand you up.

“you’re not an idiot, y/n. don’t say that to yourself. did he give you a reason?” jisung tried to calm you down, his own heart clenching, hearing you in pain.

“no, he hasn’t even responded to my texts or calls. i just feel stupid” you sighed, feeling tears fall down your cheeks. jisung didn’t know how else to comfort you, only wishing he could be close to you right now, and wipe away your tears.

“do you want me to come meet you somewhere? we can just talk” jisung suggested, instantly feeling regret after doing so.

“i mean, you can come to my apartment if you want? i kind of need a friend right now” you continued to sniffle, hearing jisung shuffle around on the other side.

“text me the address and i’m on my way” he hung up the phone, dressing himself appropriately before rushing out of his house and into his car. he felt completely insane for rushing over to you like this, with his messy hair and puffed face from the cold. but he couldn’t bear to see you upset.

he knocked softly on your door, hearing you jiggle the lock on the other end. you pulled the door back slowly, revealing the tall boy dressed in his pajamas with a large black puffed jacket over it. jisung entered your apartment cautiously, taking notice of how small and glum you looked. he wanted to hold you in his arms, but he knew it wasn’t his place to do so. instead he let you lead him to your living room couch where you turned on the heater and made him a mug of hot chocolate.

“by the way, he’s the idiot for ditching you. it’s truly his loss” jisung shrugged, sipping the warm beverage.

“you think so? i feel like i’m at a loss, i mean, i dressed up and waited in the cold, for nothing” you felt like you could start joking about the situation, but jisung didn’t appreciate how you talked down on yourself.

“why do you bring yourself down like that?” jisung questioned, genuinely concerned,

“i don’t know, it’s just easier to blame myself rather than someone who couldn’t give me the time of day” you sunk back into the couch, clutching onto a cushion. jisung have you a solemn look, moving his hand to your shoulder.

“well stop it okay? it’s not nice to hear and as your friend, i cannot let you weep about this stupid guy who does not deserve you” jisung reassured you, making sure to look at you in the eyes. he meant every single word. he thought you were incredible. you needed to know it.

“thank you for this. i don’t know what i would have been doing right now if you weren’t here” you mumbled, feeling heat rise to your cheeks at his words. you’d be lying if you said that jisung didn’t give you butterflies. but considering what went down tonight, you weren’t so sure if having something more than a friendship, with jisung, would be ideal. you were dealing with your own drama, and jisung didn’t need to be a part of your cycle of problems.

jisung always thought jeno and jaemin were just teasing when they said he was a lovestruck puppy. but in this very moment, he agreed with them. he was lovestruck. all he wanted to do was make you smile again. so that’s what he did for the rest of the night. despite your invitations for him to sleep on your bedroom floor, jisung decided to just crash on the couch. he didn’t care if it took weeks, or months to get you to be his. all he knew was that these feelings weren’t going away any time soon.

I'd wait all day, just for a maybe

I'm trying to find a way to be worthy.

If not tonight, maybe tomorrow

'Cause I'm hung up, I'm shook up,

I'm lovestruck.

“so you’re telling me, that she has a boyfriend, but then he stood her up, and she called you and then you spent the night on her couch?!” jaemin’s jaw dropped. jeno couldn’t believe a single word either.

“yep, exactly” jisung shrugged, stuffing his mouth with doritos. the three boys were yet again, hanging out in jeno and jaemin’s dorm room as jisung dished out the details from a few nights ago.

“is she still with him?” jeno was curious,

“i’m not sure. she said that she wanted space from him but you know girls, it’s probably code for, she’s going back to him eventually” jisung admitted defeat, still stuffing his mouth with handfuls of doritos.

“then why does her facebook status say single?” jaemin smirked, shoving his phone in the younger boy’s face.

jisung halted just actions, eyes scanning across the screen.

“no fucking way” he blurted out, crumbs of the doritos, falling all over him.

“you’re a mess, dude. she’s not gonna wanna go for you when you look like this” jeno teased, helping dust off the crumbs from jisung’s shirt.

“you guys think i have a chance?” jisung’s eyes glistened at the idea of you and him dating. it didn’t feel real.

“well you should probably give her time to heal from the breakup. i mean, she’s probably not going to want to jump into anything straight away. just show her you’re there for her and let nature take its course” jeno advised as jaemin nodded in affirmation.

“exactly, just be like how you were a few nights ago and she’ll come around. i must admire how loyal and determined you are” jaemin gave the younger boy a pat on the shoulder before stealing the bag of chips from him.

jisung couldn’t help but think of all the possibilities that would come for you both in the near future.

every weekend from that day onward, you and jisung hung out at your apartment. you’d usually study, watch random shows and movies or simply just talk about the week.

it had been almost two months since your breakup, and you were confident in saying that you no longer felt upset. you started to accept that he wasn’t the one for you and that you deserved better. you couldn’t take all the credit for your progress, having jisung by your side to support you was a huge help.

“hey jisung” you muttered, causing him to look up from his laptop. you were both sitting next to eachother on your living room floor, reviewing lecture notes.

“thank you” you stopped yourself, making jisung more confused by the minute.

“thank you for everything. i don’t know if i would have properly ever gotten over it without you. i know that’s a lot to put onto you and i’m so grateful that you decided to stick with me. if i’m going to be honest, i’ve always wanted to be friends with you. you were the dorky guy who came in late to the very first lecture and sat three seats from me. now you are seated in front of me in my apartment as we cram for our exams” you let out a soft giggle at the last part, jisung reacting in a similar manner. he was shocked to hear your words, the butterflies in his stomach were erratic.

“before you finish, there’s something i think i should tell you” jisung interrupted, his eyes meeting yours. you nodded for him to continue, unsure of what he was about to say,

“from the day i first started noticing you, i could help but admire you. you were always so kind to me and made me feel more at ease with starting college. i’ll just outright say that i have a big crush on you, i have since that day. it feels so weird to say it to you right now. i don’t know if the timing is right, but i’m hoping you can accept my confession. because i really care about you” jisung didn’t continue. he saw your eyes start to glisten. you couldn’t control the emotions you were feeling in this moment.

“jisung, i accept your confession. i know you’re probably wondering if i return you feelings. and if i’m being honest, i’m not quite sure just yet. but i know what type of person you are and i do believe we can be a good fit. so why don’t we go out on a date” you suggested, watching as his mouth was wide open.

“wait what? for real? a date? like right now?” jisung couldn’t believe the words that were leaving his own mouth. you nodded enthusiastically at his reaction.

“i’m going to make this the best date ever, i swear!” he jumped up from his seat, taking your hand before dragging you out of the apartment.

being with jisung was filled with constant laughter, lame jokes, soft touches and warm hugs. he wasn’t afraid to show you how much he adored you. he wasn’t afraid to pull you into him when you were down. and he wasn’t afraid to admit to you, that he was completely lovestruck.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

Tommy doesn’t know who Queen is and Steve goes on a quest to get Tommy to listen to all different types of music. Billy gets dragged into the shenanigans. The three of them start hanging out together when Steve falls asleep, but he has a super bad nightmare. (I think they were probably drinking or smoking weed or both before. Which made the nightmare worse.) Then comes cuddling with Tommy choosing the music and light teasing.

i love this so much. they’re all musically ignorant in one way or another anyway. lemme just sprint with this now :)

---

He was just trying to get his history books, it wasn't his fault that their lockers were right next to each other. Or that Tommy was apparently living under a heavy rock.  

“I’ve never heard of Queen, unless you’re talking about the Queen of England or some shit. Other than that, I’m at a loss.” Tommy was yapping to one of Carol’s friends. Sarah? Betty? They all looked the same honestly. 

“What do you mean you’ve never heard of Queen?” Steve hadn’t actually really meant to just start abruptly start speaking to Tommy again, but here they were. In the hallway. Around nosey onlookers. And Sarah-Betty who was definitely staring and definitely not happy for the intrusion. 

Tommy grinned boyishly, “Talkin’ to me again, Harrington?”

Steve didn’t let up, “You haven’t heard of Queen? Freddie Mercury? Brian May? They’ve been all over the radio for years, man.” Tommy died down a little with the snarky attitude, but the flare was still there through the dilution. 

“I don’t know, Harrington. Guess I have too many people around to pay attention to the radio much anymore.” Tommy crossed his arms and Steve almost gave up as the bilious emotions started up towards the boy again. 

Steve shook his head, “Meet me at my house tonight at 6. I’ll order in and I’ll show you myself what Queen is. ‘Kay, Tom?” Now that really took the other aback.

“It’s been, what, a year?” Hands on his hips just as Steve was doing, “All of a sudden you’re interested again?”

Steve looked him in the eye and nodded, “Six o’clock on the dot, Tommy. Be there!” he pivoted on his heel and blended in the crowd.

He had the pizza box and the stereo up and ready to jam long before the bell rung. Only three minutes late. It was honestly a record for Tommy, Steve knew for a fact that Tommy had the worst time management skills. Which also made Steve a little on edge as he opened the door. He wasn’t actually that surprised to find Billy Hargrove right there beside Tommy. Both grinning in their own devilish manners. 

Steve vamped them with the most unimpressed look he could produce and traveled back inside, “Well, come on!” he ordered impatiently. 

Billy spoke up first as they entered the living area, “Nice place, very...” he seemed to contemplate a moment as he examined the vacant side tables and mantle, “Modern.”

“Tell me about it,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll go get beer,” he started making his way towards the kitchen. “Pizza’s on the coffee table, don’t make a mess.”

When he returned there wasn’t any mess on the floors or furniture, but Tommy had enough sauce on the corners of his mouth and cheeks to slather a whole slice itself.

“Oh, Tommy,” he sighed and grabbed a napkin to clean the sauce before it dried. Billy and Tommy stared like owls but Steve ignored them and instead focused on putting the first cassette in. “Now listen, no one gets to speak.” He pointed to the table, “You have free food and drinks, so indulge me,” he took his own seat on the floor between them. A Night at the Opera. 

“Well this is eerie,” Tommy griminced and bit into another slice. His face lifted a moment later as the song changed gears, “Oh wait, no I change my mind, this is cool.”

“Have you found a new toy to replace me? Can you face me? But now you can kiss my ass goodbye Feel good, are you satisfied?”

Steve looked at Tommy and found him already looking back. 

Billy coughed, “Next, Pretty Boy?”

“Bicycling on every Wednesday evening Thursday, I go waltzing to the zoo”

Tommy swayed with the steady smoothness, “I like this one, I like it a lot.” Billy’s thigh brushed and planted against Steve’s shoulder as they watched Tommy tap along. The touch sizzled excitingly. 

“I'm in love with my car Got a feel for my automobile Get a grip on my boy-racer rollbar Such a thrill when your radials squeal“

Tommy’s face pinched just a little, nose wrinkled cutely, ”I don’t know about this one. Sounds like a song Billy might appreciate a bit more. WIth Margo and all that.” 

Tommy smiled at Billy and Steve felt something churn in is tummy, “Margo?” he tilted his head back so it rested on Billy’s knee in order to look at him.

Billy sighed and tilted his own head back to take a sip of the beer can he'd been working on, “It’s my car’s name, after my dog when I was a kid.” Steve shifted back so he was facing the stereo again after nodding once. 

“Oh, you're the first one when things turn out bad You know I'll never be lonely You're my only one And I love the things I really love the things that you do“

Tommy immediately smiled at the opening and his foot made its way from nudging him happily to resting in Steve’s lap, “This one is my favorite.”

“Really?” Steve and Billy asked simultaneously. Steve turned his head painfully fast and they stared in mutual shock. They were quick to get over it though and both went back to waiting for Tommy’s decisive nod. His eyes were closed and calm in enjoyment. So, Steve forcefully settled whatever Billy had stirred and did the same, back rested against both boy’s shins comfortably. 

“My sweet lady Though it seems like we wait forever Stay sweet, baby Believe and we've got everything we need“

“That one was...interesting,” Tommy commented.

Billy snorted as Steve smiled, “I’d say.”

“I feel like dancing in the rain Can I have a volunteer? Just keep right on dancing What a damn jolly good idea“

Tommy smiled sweetly through the that one, Steve felt as though he didn’t need to ask why.

“I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair Spreading his hands on the multitude there A man who cried for a love gone stale And ice cold hearts of charity bare“

“How come they are so short and so long at random? It’s weird,” Tommy leaned forward and grabbed another beer, condensation dripping onto Steve’s bare knee.

“Sometimes things are more difficult to interpret,” Billy answered. Steve leaned a little more into them as he felt his hips settle. 

“Oh, back, hurry back Please bring it back home to me Because you don't know what it means to me Love of my life“

“That was kinda sad,” Billy was the one to say something between the track then. 

Steve agreed, “Yeah, a little.” He felt eyes on his head but gazed instead on the slight glow to the stereo. 

“Take good care of what you've got My father said to me As he puffed his pipe and baby B. He dandled on his knee Don't fool with fools who'll turn away Keep all good company“

Steve felt a leg press firmer into his shoulder and he laid his head on it, above him Billy sighed just above being silent, “How was that one, Tom?”

Tommy didn’t answer for a moment, “I’m not sure. It sounded good.” The feet in Steve’s lap crossed themselves jitteringly. 

“Open your eyes, Look up to the skies and see, I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy, Because I'm easy come, easy go, Little high, little low“

“That one was freaky,” Tommy sat forward in awe, “But it was also awesome.” Eventually the last cord divvied out, all of them lazy with alcohol and sleepy with muddled calm that none of them had felt in a while. Although, Steve already was sleep on Billy’s knee. He didn’t get the chance to regret the beer he’d consumed before he was overrun with horrific, viney tunnels and humongous monsters. Screams of people he knew and cared for. Dustin, Nancy, his parents, Johnathon, El, Lucas. But what had him waking up in a bolt, yelping and screaming, was the one’s from Billy and Tommy. The pain those ones harbored, the ones that made Steve tremble too much to bare. 

Heavy hands grasped his shoulders and softer ones held his face when he came to. He closed his mouth and the wailing stopped just as it had reached his ears.

“Steve! Steve- sh, it’s alright, Stevie,” Tommy’s voice filtered in subtly and he thought he heard a breeze from behind. 

“We should get him to bed,” Billy said and the warmth from behind Steve was suddenly gone. He didn’t know what he must of done, was too out of it, but suddenly he was in someone's arms and being coddled.

“It’s okay, Pretty Boy, we’re still here.”

And then they were in a bed, and his room by the looks of the plaid and blue walls. He had two bodies on either side, and while the comfort he felt was something he couldn’t recognize. It was something new and he felt he should feel overwhelmed by all the sudden figures beside him. But instead he felt relieved and willingly open to allow these two boys in with limited hesitation. What a change in events. Truly. 

“Talk to us, Stevie,” Tommy whispered in his ear. 

“Have you heard of Blondie?” he whispered a bit hoarsely. 

“No. Unless that’s Billy.”

“Add that to the list of things Tommy needs to learn about.” He got a slight tickle above his ribs in response from Billy. Steve held in his laugh as best he could but Billy didn’t stop the movement until he finally coughed out a yelp in protest. He tried his best to portray a steady glare in return but it didn’t quite work. “What about The Smiths?”

“Nadda.”

“Tears for Fears?”

“Mmm,” Tommy finally came into clear vision for Steve to see, even in the dark, “Maybe, maybe not.” He was grinning like the dumbass Steve knew he was. And then he was gone.

“Wah-?” he almost whined. Almost. 

“Don’t worry, Stevie,” there was a clicking sound, “I’m just trying to culture you up a bit. Gotta keep you calm so we can actually get so sleep.” He laughed loudly when he seemingly found something. Tree branch arms coiled around Steve’s waist and he couldn’t be bothered to tell Billy off as the warmth radiated into his skin and heart. 

Tommy came back while the Eurythmics, of all people, made some sort of soft noise through the room. And Tommy’s own hands somehow managed to sneak their way past Billy’s and just barely grazed his ass. The blanket bundled them all together and Steve felt as though he finally had the loves of his life in sight. That definite path made for him. Finally and just maybe. 

send me headcannons!<3

[dcforts]

[monday 7: thunderstorm]

Phone battery: 96%

One moment they are speeding up on the empty road with the windows rolled down and the sun shining on the side mirrors and the next is as if someone threw a blanket over the sky. In a blink of an eye, the clouds gather above them and they find themselves in the middle of a downpour.

“What the fuck?” says Dean, pushing the brakes and activating the windshield wipers.

“Something is wrong” is Castiel’s helpful contribution from the passenger seat.

“Yeah, no shit.”

The rain gets havier by the second, raindrops hit the roof with such violence that it’s like they are fired from a machine gun. Even after turning on the headlights they can barely see what’s ahead of them beyond the hood of the Impala. The sky lights up and then a thunder rumbles so loud that even Castiel flinches.

“We should stop.”

“You think it’s a spell?”

“Whatever it is I don’t think it’s safe to go on.”

Dean sighs and signals that he’s pulling over on the right as if, even if there was someone behind them, they could see the indicators through the amount of water that paints everything grey.

He brings the car to a stop and fishes out his phone.

Phone battery: 91%

“Sam? Where are you?”

“Just out of the morgue. I think it’s a witch” he says, sounding slightly out of breath as he walks. “Hey, I thought you were coming to pick me up. What did the husband say?”

“Sam? Listen to me, is it raining where you are?”

“Raining? No. The sky couldn’t be clearer.”

“Fuck.”

“Dean, where are you?”

“I don’t know. Just outside of town, I think. But there’s a thunderstorm and we had to stop.”

“What? A thunderstorm? Is it rain what I’m hearing?”

“Yeah, so it’s either the son or the husband and they are onto us. Seems like they didn’t appreciate our little visit.”

“You’re saying they cursed you?”

“That’s what we think”.

“Shit. Alright, at least we have suspects and we know for sure that they’re using witchcrafts or something. Just, don’t do anything till I get back to you.”

“Alright.”

“Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too.”

  Phone battery: 86%

The rain is torrential, incessant. There is so much of it that it’s like there’s a river flowing over the windshield.

It’s not the first time that Dean got caught in a thunderstorm while he was driving. It happened more than once when he was a kid and weather apps weren’t a thing yet. John would pull up at the nearest rest area and they would wait it out catching up on their sleep.

But this is different. The rain could go on forever if something happened to Sam or if he couldn’t find a way to reverse it. That’s what bothers him more than anything, what makes him bounce his legs and clench his jaw.

He’s gone over their last two hours again and again trying to understand when and how the culprit could have done this to them but he’s had little success so far.

They can’t listen to music because they can’t risk the car running out of battery. They can’t play on their phones or do researches on their own or they will drain out their means to communication with Sam. They have no books, no food, no water. Dean doesn’t want to think about that. He taps his fingers on the steering wheel but he gets through two and a half Metallica songs before Castiel’s intake of breath and quick look his way tells him that he’s sick of it.

He retreats his hands on his lap.

Dean knows that Castiel is bothered as much as he is by the fact that they’re trapped and unable to help, even if he’s not showing it at the moment. In fact, he looks like the picture of serenity.

“How in hell can you be so calm?”

“I’m trying to be patient. There’s little else we can do.”

Dean scoffs.

Castiel shoots a look his way, then asks conversationally: “How did it go in Missouri last week?” and in response to Dean’s confused staring he adds: “The case?”

Dean gets that he’s trying to distract him and he lets him. He shrugs “Same old. Apart from Sam spilling coke all over himself, that was fun. And I got Jack a new record for the bunker. You’ve seen it?”

“He only told me about it a hundred times.” says Castiel in a pained tone. “It was nice of you.”

“Nah. You gotta teach them young.”

“You think he could join us on our next hunt?”

“We’ll see.” says Dean making a face. “But hey, you on the other hand… are getting better at interrogations. Looked pretty convincing with the kid.”

Castiel smiles: “Thank you.”

“Or, well, at least until you left the room just so you could follow his dogs,” adds Dean, raising his eyebrows.

“You can understand a lot about the owners form their pets’ behaviour”.

“Yeah?” humours him Dean, “What did you uncover? Other than they should learn how to use a vacuum.”

Castiel ignores his mocking tone. “Nothing stood out to me. But looking back now, I should have known that witchcraft was involved. They had three black dogs and I saw figurines of frogs in the living room.”

“I thought that cats were the go-to pet for witches.”

“They are generally associated with witchcraft, yes. But witches can form deep connection with any animal. Dogs, especially, escort Hecate, the triform greek-roman Goddess of Witchcraft. And Hecate takes her name from Heqet, the Egyptian goddess, usually represented as a frog. In hindsight, it was pretty clear.”

“So do you think it’s the husband? I doubt a kid alone would be able to do all that.”

“Maybe. But he seemed sincerely aggrieved by his wife’s loss.”

Dean sighs. Without any possibility to do real work that’s as far as they can get. He squints trying to see something beyond the raindrops splattered windows.

“Maybe it’s not bad as it seems.” he tries. “It’s dangerous to drive but what if we walked?”

“The curse could be cast on the car alone but I wouldn’t -”

“I’m gonna try.” Dean cuts him off, but he gets as far as resting his hand on the handle that a lightning bolt strikes one of the trees lined up down the road. There’s a loud crack and a vamp of fire that lights it up from the inside. A part of the trunk explodes and pieces go flying all over the street.

Dean and Castiel look at each other with identical alarmed expressions.

“Yeah, better say in the car.” Dean says.

   Phone battery: 79%

“Let’s play a game.”

“Alright.”

“Okay. It’s a car game. Basically you say a sentence starting with ‘Fortunately’ and based on that I have to respond with a sentence starting with ‘Unfortunately’. Like, I say ‘Unfortunately, we got cursed.’ And you say ‘Fortunately…’?”

Castiel thinks about it, then says, “Fortunately, they didn’t want us dead, only permanently incapacitated.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Sure, that is reassuring. Alright. Um, unfortunately, I will eventually die of starvation.”

“Fortunately, we won’t have to wait that long cause Sam is working on it.”

“Yeah but unfortunately, he’s alone against the witch.”

“Fortunately, he is prepared and the witch is not too dangerous.”

“Unfortunately, he got to us.”

“Fortunately, as long as we stay in the car we are safe.”

“Unfortunately, we are trapped.”

“Fortunately, we are together.”

Dean had his mouth already opened, ready to fire his next sentence but his brain short circuits and he is stunned. He closes it again. He meets Castiel’s eyes and under his soft expression he recognizes a little smugness that comes from having silenced him. He really can’t think of anything to say.

Castiel bats his eyelashes feigning innocence. “Did I win?”

That shakes Dean up, who rolls his eyes and he is about to protest when something heavy and dark hits the window shield with a loud thump and has him almost jumping out of his skin.

“What the fuck was that?” he shouts. Instinctively one arm flies up to cover his face, his elbow out and the other reaches towards Castiel to grab a fistful of his sleeve.

“I think it was a bird,” is Castiel’s calm reply.

Dean lets him go quickly, adverting his eyes. He still feels his heart in his throat. He clears it. “Right.” Then after a moment “Don’t mention this to Sam.”

Castiel huffs a laugh.

Phone battery: 72%

And so they wait. The rain is heavy and unrelenting. Dean has cracked open his window to feel it on his fingertips and he has retreated his hand hissing for how violently it hit him. The wind picks up at intervals, it whistles around them, pushing through every draft it can find. Above them, clouds like cotton balls chase each other endlessly and lightning bolts draw threatening patterns in the distance.

Sam has texted and they know that everything is under control so Dean is feeling better now. Figuring they are going to be there a while, he has toed off his boots and climbed over on the backseat leaving Castiel plenty of space to stretch his legs, even if the guy in question has barely adjusted his position with his back to the door and lifted a knee on the seat.

Dean on the other hand, already sprawled on the backseat, has gradually slipped into a laying position. He is more or less relaxed, or at least, as relaxed as a person could be with hell going on right outside of their car but tucked in the quiet and safe space of their car, with the soothing sound of the rain on the roof.

They had worse - that’s a fact.

He lolls his head to the side to watch Castiel, who’s got his eyes fixed on a spot beyond his window.

“So, how’s a thunderstorm from up there?”

He says: “From heaven?”

“Yeah, no, from the sky? Never seen it, planes are not my thing, you know,” he says, shifting to settle on the side.

“It’s pretty,” he says after a long moment. His keeps his voice low and adds, “but here is better.”

Dean scoffs.

“I mean it. From here you can smell the wet grass, see the trees swinging, feel the raindrops hitting you,” his voice is deep and smooth and Dean’s traitorous eyelids flutter shut. “The view from the outside may be splendid” Castiel continues, “but here things happen to you, touch you, shape you. You are the view.”

Dean mumbles what he means to be a sound of agreement but it’s basically a long exhale.

He is drowsy. He is trying to tell himself that he cannot fall asleep but it’s becoming a little difficult as they lose track of the time.

Castiel turns to look at him.

“Dean?”

“Hm?”

“You can sleep if you want.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Tell me more.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Just, no more gross facts about animals. I’ve had enough of those.”

  Phone battery: 60%

Dean jerks awake. Castiel is touching his shoulder. “Sam called,” he says.

Dean blinks a few times while the past hours come back to him. A thunder booming over his head reminds him pretty quickly. So he did fall asleep in the end. And it wasn’t at all a good idea, judging by his stiff neck and his dry mouth and the fact that he has nothing to drink.

“What did he say?”

“He is going to the family. Apparently the road is clear from where he is so it seems like we are in some kind of pocket dimension.”

Dean suppresses a swear and pushes himself up on one elbow. It’s too dark to see anything beyond the windows but for a moment the wind is so strong that the car starts shaking, then the sky flashes white and booms and the sound is ear-splitting.

“It’s getting worse,” he rubs his eyes and cheeks and finds a dry spot of drool on the corner of his mouth. “You think Sam is gonna be fine?”

“I’m sure.” Castiel says. “They thought it was just the two of us, so they won’t see him coming.”

“How long was I out?”

“An hour at most.”

“You watched me all the time like a creep, didn’t you?”

“No,” says Castiel way too quickly to be entirely innocent. He also shoots him an irritated look that Dean suspects is more related to having been called creep that for the accusation itself. “I rearranged your tape collection.”

Now Dean gasps, aghast. “Oh, no. Again? Don’t tell me. Please don’t tell me it’s by year again.”

Castiel just nods and Dean becomes the image of desperation. “How could y- Really, Cas? Come on!”

Dean catches a glint of Castiel’s teeth in the dark as he smiles. “No.” he says sounding all proud “I was joking.”

Dean falls backwards on the seat with a groan. “Unfortunately, you will kill me with your terrible sense of humour.”

“Too late. We’ve already established that I won that game.”

“You know right, that if we are here for a very long time I will eventually have to eat you?”

Castiel just rolls his eyes.

  Phone battery 47%

Dean is still laying down, staring at the roof. Castiel has cracked his window open, just enough to let a breath of cool air in. It chases away the condensation on the windshield and brings in the smell of wet leaves and wet asphalt.

Dean is hit with the realization that they don’t get many moments like these. For one, none of them is covered in blood, and they are not fighting or running for their life. There is no anger or regret or guilt in the air. He can’t exactly complain.

Dean fixes his gaze on what he can see of his profile when is illuminated by the lightings: his dark hair, his high left cheekbone, his faint stubble, the tip of his nose. It’s even rarer to get to watch him unobserved. He feels a smile creeping on his lips.

For his part, it looks like it’s Castiel is starting to run out of patience. Dean can hear the rustling of his trench coat from where he is probably tormenting his hands in his lap. Knowing him, he can picture his mind is working tirelessly trying to find a way to be useful. Castiel loud sigh pierce the silence in the car.

“You told me to be patient earlier and now you’re bored of me already.” Dean teases.

Castiel turns towards him and then back ahead but there is no lightning that allows Dean to see his expression.

“I was just thinking. I thought you fell asleep again.“ There is a pause then he asks: “Are you? Bored of me?”

Dean sighs and feels protected by the dark and numbed by the sound of the rain and still a little groggy from his nap so he says. “Even when I see you all the time I feel like I barely see you.”

“I can’t tell if that’s good or not.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

  Phone battery: 32%

The screen lights up and it’s Sam, finally calling with news.

Dean puts him speakers.

“Sam?”

“Dean, they put something in your car,” he sounds out of breath.

“Hey, hey, how are you? What’s happening?”

“I’m fine, I can’t talk right now. They were both guilty. The mother was an accident; the spell was meant for someone else. Actually the mother was on it too. Apparently the whole family is into magic. I gotta -” a loud thunder covers his words.

“Sam? We didn’t get that.”

“They said it’s in the car. Look for hex bags, amulets, something you can destroy. I gotta go.”

“Alright. Just let us - ” but he’s already hung up.

So they get moving. They look into every corner, feel blindly in the dark, under the seats, inside the dashboard, as far as they can go behind the cushions.

Fifteen minutes later they’ve covered every surface and found nothing.

“Shit. What if it’s under the car? How are we gonna get that?”

Castiel looks at him and his expression tells Dean that nothing good is coming. In fact he says: “It can only be in the trunk.”

Dean blinks: “You are not going anywhere.”

“Dean.”

“No. No way.”

“Dean, it’s our only chance” he says it as if Dean is being unreasonable.

“No, Cas, let’s talk about it first.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m stronger than you. I’m the one who has to go.”

Castiel has made up his mind. He moves and Dean uselessly reaches out to grab him, but he can’t get a good grip as he is blocked by the front seat and Castiel slips away and pushes his door open.

The rain seems to get ten times worse as soon as he does that and the whole sky lights up threatening above their head. Castiel pushes through the wind to get a foot out.

“Cas! Jesus, close the goddamn door. This isn’t gonna work and you’re getting my seats all wet!” shouts Dean but Castiel doesn’t seem to hear him. Another loud thunder has Dean crouching down, and when he looks up again, Castiel is standing outside. He looks towards Dean and then shuts the door. Dean sees him struggling to get his feet one after the other, like an invisible force is keeping him from moving. His face scrunches up as he pushes himself forward with a hand on the car. He takes a step. He slips back a few feet.

Dean heart stops. “Cas! Fucking hell! Get back here!” he shouts, uselessly banging his hands against the seats. He tries to open his own door and remembers that he’s got no shoes on. He hurries to climb over on the front seat.

When he looks back again, Castiel has almost made it to the rear of the car. The sky rumbles angrily, it lights up violently. In frantic movements Dean slips his boots on and pushes himself to the right to open the passenger seat door.

He could lose him. Right there, right now, he could fucking lose him.

The rain and the wind hit him full force all at once. It’s like he’s stepped under a waterfall, he is cold and wet and struggles to breath. He battles against the wind trying to keep the car door open enough to allow him to get out and prevent it being ripped off from the car. He can barely feel his face and hands.

Towards the back of the car Castiel has reached the trunk. Dean can make out his silhouette wiping his eyes with a hand and with the other fumbling with the handle.

At last the trunk opens and covers him from Dean’s view. As he tries to move, his hair stand up all over his body and then there’s an explosion of sound so loud that he needs to cover his ears. It’s quick and violent and it takes him a few moments to realize that a lightning bolt has just hit a few yard from them. His legs start shaking.

“Cas! Come on!” he shouts terrified, knowing that’s useless, that he won’t be able to hear him above the thunders booming over their heads.

Through the rain that whips fiercely his face and blinds him, Dean watches as Castiel closes the truck and traces his steps back to the door that he holds open for him. As soon as he is within reach Dean grabs a fistful of his clothes and hauls him inside.

  Phone battery 22%

Dean is yelling. He is still gripping a handful of Castiel’s clothes and he yanks and yanks at it and yells in his face. And Castiel is panting, he is soaking wet, his hair is dripping and plastered on his forehead and his eyelashes are stuck together and he lets himself being yanked and yelled at and he’s got fear in his eyes but also relief.

“I can’t believe you did that! What the fuck is wrong with you!”

Dean is angry cause his voice is not louder than the rain and it’s not louder than the thunder but he wants it to be to be able to convey just how angry he is right now.

Castiel just blinks and breathes. At last, he brings up a hand to rest on Dean’s.

“Dean,” he says trying to calm him down. I’m okay. I’m here. It’s over.

Dean feels the relief wash over his body but then it pools behind his eyes and he feels like crying.

“You fucking asshole.”

The corner of Castiel’s lips turns slightly upward.

Dean yanks once again at his clothes and he means to pull him into a hug but somehow he finds his lips pressed against Castiel’s. They are both so shocked that they freeze and quickly pull back.

For a second they breath the same air. Dean swallows and blinks and tries to regain control of himself. Castiel doesn’t look scared, he only tilts his head slightly like he does so Dean covers the distance between them once again. Castiel’s lips are full and wet and as Dean kisses them, for a second he forgets all about near death, rain, witches and curses.

Then a thunder erupts above them and they jerk apart once again. Dean lets go of Castiel and wipes a hand over his wet face. “We should –” it’s all he manages.

Castiel doesn’t know what to say either. He just nods and quickly bends down to retrieve the hex bag that he’s dropped when Dean kissed him.

  Phone battery: 15%

It’s made of green silk and there’s a round symbol and a semicircle drawn on it. Castiel says they represent Hecate’s wheel and the Egyptian hieroglyphic for rain.

They don’t look at each other as they try to burn it. It takes more than one attempt as their fingers are wet and slippery and there’s nothing they can use to dry themselves with as everything else they have is also wet.

When it finally lights up it burns green. Dean winces as he sees it writhing on the floor mats of his car. “Oh Baby, I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” He says, and this is even before he realizes that they are both still dripping water all over the seats.

It’s almost instantaneous and slightly anticlimactic. The bag becomes dust and the clouds above them break, letting the sun shine through. Dean squints at the sudden change of light and when he opens his eyes again, everything is back to normal. The car is still covered in raindrops but the birds outside are chirping, there’s no tree half burned across the street and a car passes them by as if it’s just another day. Dean sighs and lets his head thump against the window while Castiel rolls down his.

They enjoy a moments of quietness, pierced only by Castiel saying “I’m sorry for scaring you”. He says it in his normal tone but it sounds loud to Dean’s ears, newly clear of rain and thunders.

He closes his eyes. “I just wish you’d stop jumping in on any occasion to get yourself killed.”

“I had to do it.”

Dean opens his eyes and shoots him a withering look. “But you almost died. Cas,” he takes a deep breath “don’t you get it? I’d rather be stuck under the downpour for the rest of my life than watch you die again.” He feels the rage take control of himself again and shake his voice and he lets it cause it’s better to ride it and let out what he wants to say than to hide in embarrassment.

He even holds his gaze.

“I can understand the sentiment.” Castiel says at last.

“Just – no more suicidal missions. If you don’t wanna do it for yourself, do it for me.”

Castiel presses his lips together and nods and Dean feels suddenly exhausted.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore.”

“Okay.” Castiel agrees. “Should we talk about - ”

“Uh, what?” 

“Dean.”

“Cas,” he says, mimicking his tone.

Castiel holds his gaze for a long time. Dean says softly: “I mean, you know - right?”

“I do.” Castiel smiles. “Do you?”

“Yeah.” Dean swallows. He takes a deep breath and waits for a wave of dread to hit him but it never comes. He just feels like himself with a warm pleasant feeling in his lower belly. That’ll be time later to process it, he thinks, now they have stuff to do, places to go. 

  Phone battery: 5%

They are on the road again. It’s safe and quiet and sunny.

“Was it really necessary?” grumbles Castiel.

“Again, yes” Dean won’t hear no arguing. “I don’t even want to think about the damage we’ve already done.”

Sam’s phone rings once again before he picks up.

“Guys?”

“Sam? Dean is driving. Are you okay?”

“Oh, hey Cas. Yes, they went down pretty easily. Didn’t see me coming. Did you guys find the thing?”

“Yes, it was a hex bag. Everything is fine, we are almost in town.”

“Great. Should we agree on a spot so you can come pick me up?”

“Uh. We need to go back to the motel first. We are not wearing any clothes apart from our underwear.”

“You wh - ? Wait, what?”

“They were wet. Dean insisted. For the car.” Castiel says, trying to speak over Dean’s voice in the background that yells ‘Why did you tell him?’

Sam burst into laughing. “Oh my god.”

“So we will see you back at the motel?”

“Yeah, definitely, I will be there with my camera ready.”

There’s rustling and then Dean’s voice close to the microphone shouts: “Sam, I swear to God, I’ll run you ove-”

 Phone battery: 0%

I am participating in the spnstayathomechallenge by @bend-me-shape-me @pray4jensen @helianthus21

[castielscarma]

Motel

Week 5, here is my piece:  @helianthus21 @pray4jensen @bend-me-shape-me Dean tries not to grimace as he walks through the door to the motel. The dark hasn't settled yet, and he looks over his shoulder, casting one last eye on Baby. He parked her near some trees and some bushes on the other side flank her, so she should be good.

He looks around the room. There's a bed to their left, large enough to fit two people and an off-brand flat screen hangs on the opposite wall. The wallpapers are not dirty and he can't see any tears. The carpet is thin but whole. A table with three chairs is cramped into a corner and he spots the standard mini fridge, probably empty.

Two doors at the far end lead to the other bedroom and a bathroom. He sighs, but he's not sure if it's from resignation or exhaustion. Probably both.

Done with the quick survey of the room, Dean nods to himself. “We didn't have to stop. Just a few more hours and we could've been home instead.” Dean drops the duffel bag on the floor and toes off his shoes.

“You couldn't drive straight and I'm tired. We all are. Tired and dirty.” Sam says behind him.

He turns and winks at Cas. “Check on dirty.”

“I don't think he means that kind of dirty, Dean.” Cas lets Jack inside before closing the door.

“I – Yeah, I know, Cas. I'm the bad kind of dirty, practically drowning in vamp confetti.” He's tried to clean himself as much as he could after they cleared the unusually large vamp nest but his flannel shirt and pants are caked with blood. Maybe Sam has a point. What they expected to be a milk-run had turned into a hunt that lasted hours with vamps swarming the place like flies drawn to rotten meat.

Jack chimes in.“I could have driven you home while you slept – “

“Nah, we're good Jack. Sam's right. And I don't know about you, but I'm starving.” He fishes out his cellphone. It's almost 10 pm. “Jack, find us some food. Something hot.”

Sam interjects. “If you're really hungry I saw a vending machine just outside...”

Dean is already out the door. “Be right back. Dibs on the shower!”

He comes back after a few minutes, already munching on some Doritos. “Fuck, these are the best tasting Doritos I've ever had.” Dean turns the bag around as if expecting to find something magical to explain the taste of synthetic cheese on his tongue.

Cas has already claimed the bed in the main room.

“It's the good bed? You checked, Cas?”

Cas stops unpacking his duffel bag. “I don't think it's necessary to engage in your kind of – “ He frowns as Dean grins and takes a few hurried steps, before jumping down on the bed.

The bed sings a creaking song until Dean stills. “Not the thinnest I've seen and no springs poking our asses. I say the bed is a keeper.” He wipes his hands on his pants and shouts. “Sammy, your bed is good?”

Sam sticks his head out of the other bedroom. “It's a bed, we're good. Me and Jack can sleep in it. I'm fine, Dean. Besides, I'll gladly hand over the bigger bed to you two as long as you are hands-off. The walls are thin.” Sam makes a face.

“Hey! We'd never do – “

Sam narrows his eyes and purses his lips in that familiar frown he does when he's grumpy – a frown that Dean thinks is secretly adorable.

“You do that look for Eileen too? Does it work? Maybe I'll try it on the waitresses, earn me an extra slice of pie.” Dean chuckles but stops short, wincing as the pain in his side reminds him of a particularly nasty kick he received from a vampire.

“Dean?” Jack's concerned voice reaches him but he waves it away.

“I'm fine, it's nothing. Just a vamp deciding they were Jet Leestat.” He chuckles softly but stops when Jack doesn't move a muscle. “Ah, come on. Jet Li... Lestat? Get it? Anyway, I don't need any healing. ”

Jack ignores him, his hands are already raised and he grabs Dean's arm. His eyes glow and Dean feels the sharp pain subside to a dull ache until it vanishes completely. “You didn't need to; you're already drained from healing Sam during the hunt. It was nothing, Jack.” He touches his side which is as good as it will get on a hunter approaching forty. “But thanks.”

Dean looks expectantly at Sam and Cas. They just stand there, and Sam even has the audacity to raise an eyebrow in question.

“Jet Leestat! Cause he kicked me, true karate-style –“ Dean swings around with his arms in a circular motion – “and Lestat, the bloodsucker in those books.” He hisses for emphasis. “You get it now?”

Nothing but crickets. Dean shakes his head in disgust and grabs another handful of Doritos. “You uncultured lot. Won't recognize fine literature.”

Finally, Sam speaks up. “I don't think Interview with the Vampire is considered fine literature.”

“I can't listen to this anymore. Shower time. Jack, you found a place?”

Jack's eye's narrow as he lists the nearest restaurants. “There's a Susie's Place just a few minutes away, but it seems to be closed. The nearest after that is Thai Jungle – “

“That's the winner. They open?”

“Yes.”

Dean is already unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Pad Thai for me, drown it in lime juice. And I want a Mount Everest of peanuts.” He grabs his bag and heads for the bathroom.

He can hear Sam order vegetable satay as he shuts the door. The shower is not the worst he's seen. No shower curtain, thank the gods. As long as the pressure is more than a drizzle, he can live with it. Dean removes his shirt and pants, cursing a few times as he feels caked blood crack along with other bloodsucker things – he has no desire whatsoever to further put his mind on what it can be – and tosses it on the floor.

The water flows fairly well and as Dean steps under the water, the spray is hot. Almost scalding, so he turns it down just a fraction. He welcomes the heat that relaxes his muscles and the comforting feeling that follows, one of heaviness cloaking around him and with a promise of sleep.

He grabs the lavender soap and ignores the foul scent as he rinses off the dust, blood, and grime that has found its way under all the layers of clothes.

A faint draft sneaks his way and Dean turns to find Cas there.

Cas removes his clothes and steps inside.

It's cramped but Dean couldn't care less. “Soap?” He doesn't wait for an answer, instead, he grabs the soap and works it all over Cas' body. The warmth of Cas, the way his muscles play under skin that Dean's made sure to know fully during countless hours of midnight exploration, all of it speaks of home.

“Now it's my turn.” Cas leaves the soap, grabs some shampoo instead. Soon they're slotted against each other, Cas fingers digging into Dean scalp.

His ministrations send shivers down Dean's spine and what he thought was relaxation earlier now hits him with full force. He sways and leans into Cas. “That's the spot, right there.”

Cas laughs, grabs some more soap and washes himself.

“What's the hurry, Cas?”

Cas is already rinsing himself off. “I assume that Sam desires a shower too.”

Dean grabs Cas' still soapy ass and squeezes. “He can wait.”

“We don't know how much hot water is left.” Cas leaves wet kisses on the side of his neck.

“Fine, I guess you're right.” Dean grabs a towel and dries himself off hurriedly before digging into his bag. He pulls out a pair of pants, a huge smile on his face. “Eileen, bless her soul. She actually went ahead and bought a pair.”

Cas looks questioningly at him, so Dean explains. “We were just talking shit one night and I mentioned why no one had ever thought to pack for post-hunt? Everyone – and hey, I'm everyone too – are so wrapped up in the before, that we don't stop to think about the after. When the last vamp is dead, and you grab your cold beer and slip into your best sweatpants, you know everything is good.”

He pulls up another pair of black sweatpants. “Sweet Cas, we're pants twins.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Oh, joy.”

Five minutes later, Sam is in the shower. Dean can hear Sam complain about something in there, but the spray of the water and the wooden door mutes his objections. “We did save you some hot water! Not my fault it cools on the way down your freakishly tall body.”

Jack occupies one chair, watching something on the TV. “Just ten minutes tops and food should be here.”

Dean's stomach growls. “Where's the bag?”

“The nacho bag? The Doritos... you ate them all,” Jack answers before paying attention to his show again.

Walking over to the mini-fridge, Dean opens it, only to stare at empty space. “Ah, really? I know this was a fairly cheap motel but not that cheap. Not even a tiny bag of nuts, a stale cracker. A bag of forgotten Skittles?”

Cas sits down on the bed. “Why would someone store Skittles in the fridge?”

Dean shuts the door with his foot. “A smart guy. One that knows cold Skittles taste like heaven.”

Just as Sam walks back into the main room, Dean answers the knock on the door. Tipping the driver handsomely, he unpacks the food on the table. “Sweet, two wedges of lime! You want some, Cas?”

Cas shakes his head, smiling. “Wouldn't want to steal your food. I'm alright, Dean, thank you.”

Dean hands Sam his vegetables before digging in. His eyes almost roll back as the taste of the slightly spicy noodles, cilantro, and chicken hit his mouth. “Man, this is so good.” He squeezes some more lime on the noodles and shovels in another mouthful. The taste of food has rekindled his appetite and his stomach growls in appreciation.

“Dude, you spilled sauce all over the table.”

“I didn't force you to order veggies, Sammy. I'm just trying to save you, encourage you to eat some delicious Pad Thai.” Dean squirts the small package of soy all over his food. ”Mm.”

Sam stabs a piece of carrot and dips it in the peanut sauce. “I'm fine.”

The TV provides muted a background as they eat mostly in silence. Dean realizes as the worst of his appetite is sated that he could pass out right on the chair. “You sure you don't want some, Jack? They gave me a mountain of food.”

Jack shakes his head. “No, I'm good. I think I'll go to my room and sleep.”

“Nuh-uh, your and Sam's room. You sharing, kid.”

“He snores.”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “I don't snore.”

Dean interjects. “Oh, trust me, Sammy, you snore.” He turns to Cas. “I can't count the times, I had to kick him while we were hunkering down in some C-grade motel, desperate for some shut-eye and he started belting out a hellish symphony worthy of discarded foghorns. Try tissues.”

Jack looks from Dean to Sam, a questioning look on his face. “Tissues?”

“Yeah, tissues. Stuff your ears and pray you'll pass out fast enough.”

Jack raises his hand in greeting. “Right... Good night, guys. Cya tomorrow.”

Sam ignores them as he dips broccoli in sauce.

Dean drums his fingers on the table and feels Sam push on his shoulder. “What?”

“Can you stop that? I'm trying to eat.”

Dean doesn't even try to stifle the yawn creeping up on him. “Eat fucking faster. “I'm beat and need to sleep. And you have a bigger mouth than I do... shouldn't you be done by now?”

“I don't inhale my food, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “Pff, I don't inhale my food. Right, Cas?”

Cas looks Sam straight in the eye. “He sucks it down faster than a Roomba.”

Sam starts coughing and quickly grabs a bottle of water. “Right. Time for me to leave, guys.” He heads for the bathroom and Dean can hear how he furiously brushes his teeth in there. As Sam leaves, he shuts the door to his room with a bang.

“Great, just you and me now Cas.”

“I hear you!” Sam shouts. “Don't forget me and Jack are in here.”

Dean rolls his eyes and mutters to himself. “Oh, trust me, Sammy, we won't forget.”

They undress silently by the muted light of the bedside lamp. Dean just drops his clothes over a chair but Cas insists on folding his clothes.

Dean sighs as he gets under the covers. “I don't know if I'm getting old, but sleep, Cas. Sleep. It's all a hunter needs to kick ass. Besides coffee... and a cold beer now and then. Angel blade is good to have, and a trusty gun. Snacks too, and badass skills. A good right-hand punch can never be underestimated.”

Cas slides in next to Dean. “Seems a hunter needs a lot of things to kick ass.”

“Nah, I just need an angel by my side, and I'm good.” Dean adjusts the covers, making sure his feet are nicely tucked in.

Cas clears his throat. “You don't need all of that though, Dean. You're perfectly fine as you are. It was not your skills or your weapons that made you the skilled hunter I know you are, but you. What's inside of you. Your heart and soul, Dean. Your determination, your will to never give up, and your determination to fight for what's right.”

Dean leans in close to Cas, enjoys the heat of him, and how close they are. His skin is like a furnace, or maybe it's that Dean always burns brighter in Cas' proximity. Cas does that to people. Brings out a light they didn't know they had, just by shining his own brilliant soul. “Cas, we're already together, no need to butter me up.”

“I'm not.” It's two simple words, but Dean feels the heaviness of them, a ring of truth that settles around them as he utters them into existence.

Dean turns the light off. “Cas...” Dean chews on his lip before speaking. “I want you by my side, you know that right. It's not like...before.”

Cas grabs his hand under the covers, a comforting thumb circling before he squeezes once. “I know that, Dean. You're not going anywhere, and neither am I.”

Dean finds comfort in the gesture and squeezes back, before nestling in closer to Cas. He exhales heavily. This right here is all he ever wanted. He holds Cas' hand in his until he feels tiny pinpricks accost his shoulder. His hand is suddenly leaden. “Alright, Cas, love ya, but I'm letting go now before my hand spontaneously falls off.”

He senses Cas' chest rumble in silent laughter as Cas eases off his grip. “That would be a shame. I put you back together once, wouldn't wanna do it again.”

Dean turns on his side and smiles as he feels Cas' heavy arm drape over his body, pulling him in close. Cas kisses him softly on the neck. “Good night, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean allows the final semblance of alertness to leave him and welcomes the heaviness of sleep. Tomorrow will bring with it a new day, new opportunities, new uncertainties. But one thing Dean will never doubt is his feelings for Cas, and Cas' love for him in turn. “Night, Cas.” Soon he sleeps, Cas by his side always.

[bytheangell]

Sing for the Moment

(Read on AO3)

Isabelle hangs up the phone to update her siblings and Magnus that Clary is almost here with Simon, they’re just running late. It doesn’t matter much - these informal nights in don’t really have a set timeframe, and the absence of Biscuit and Simon hasn’t stopped any of them from catching up and drinking while they wait.

Magnus isn’t surprised to hear the tinkering of the piano from the kitchen while he gets more drinks for himself, Alec, Isabelle, and Jace. He made the instrument a permanent feature in his home after Alec brought up his and Jace’s shared fondness of it and how it helps them work through their thoughts sometimes, but neither of them plays much while Magnus was around to overhear, and when he is it’s usually something controlled and classical.

What reaches him now is some pop song from the 2000s, if Magnus remembers correctly, which catches him off-guard entirely.

He’s even more surprised when he returns to the living room to see Alec is the one at the bench, frowning intently down at the keys after messing up.

“C’mon, I know you know it,” Izzy encourages, leaning eagerly over the side of the piano.

“Drinks are staying over here for whenever you’re ready,” Magnus says, setting them down on the table and not bringing them any closer to the intoxicated Lightwood siblings at the piano. Not that he doesn’t trust them not to spill anything on it but… well, he absolutely does not, and that’s a very expensive instrument. Izzy backs away from the piano to get her glass and Alec moves to do the same until Izzy stops him.

“No drink for you until I get my song,” she demands, pouting.

“Iz-” Alec starts.

“Nope,” Izzy says, picking his glass up along with her own and holding it hostage.

“Jace?” Alec tries. “A little help?”

Magnus isn’t sure if Alec’s asking for help in retrieving his drink or in figuring out the part of the song he can’t seem to remember.

“If I do it for you how will you learn?” Jace says, in a slightly mocking tone that makes Magnus think that’s a line Alec used on Jace one too many times in the past.

Instead of arguing Alec sighs and sits back down, adorably resigned, until he remembers the right chords after a few attempts.

Izzy’s so pleased she puts both drinks down on the table again, abandoning them in favor of returning to her brother at the piano. Alec plays the opening chords and when he gets to the melody starts to hum.

Magnus sometimes hears him humming songs around the Loft. He knows Alec can carry a tune, more or less, but when the humming turns into lyrics Magnus is surprised at how good he is at singing. Alec sings quietly but confidently, and Magnus can’t believe this is the first time he’s ever heard Alec sing. Soon Alec’s soft tones are drowned out when Izzy joins in, much louder and a slightly slurred, but still beautiful. As if on cue Jace wanders over as well, drawn in by his siblings’ shift of focus entirely to the music, and Alec instinctively shifts over on the bench to make room for his parabatai who provides some embellished accompaniment and sings as well.

It’s all Magnus can do to stand and watch in awe at the sheer talent of the three of them. Some of it he can tell is carefully honed by practice, the piano playing in particular, but a lot of it is a natural ability. He listens to the shifting keys, the trills of scales, an impressive vibrato, and gets lost in the music so much he almost forgets where he is and who he’s listening to.

When the song finishes Alec, smiling softly, notices Magnus staring in unconcealed admiration. “What?” Alec asks. There's a bit of a furrow to his brow, the confusion clearly showing that he has no idea why Magnus is gaping a little at the performance he just witnessed.

“How,” Magnus asks, astonishment clear in his tone. “Are you all so good at that?” He thinks it's a pretty valid question, but all three of the Lightwood siblings turn to him with the same confused look Alec has.

“What?” Jace asks.

“Surely someone’s pointed out that all of your voices are magnificent before,” Magnus insists. There's no way he's the first person to ever mention it.

Izzy looks uncertain. “What? Everyone can sing.”

Magnus shakes his head. “Not like that,” he points out.

Alec considers that. “Huh,” is all he says, before going to get his drink, already shrugging off the praise.

"Have any of you ever listened to the average person sing?" Magnus wonders aloud. The question isn't aimed at any of them in particular at this point, but he's curious.

"Well... no, not really. Stuff on the radio, but it isn't like Shadowhunters are belting Elton John songs through the halls of the Institute," Jace admits. Sometimes Magnus forgets how relatively isolated their upbringings at the Institute were, as far as exposure to others not just their age but also in simple, fun social settings.

"No, I don't suppose they were," Magnus concedes. "Well then, let me be the first to inform you that you have significantly above average vocal talents and now that I'm aware of it, Alexander, we are absolutely going to a Karaoke Bar."

Alec spins around to face him so fast he nearly drops the drink in his hand. "What? No. Absolutely not."

"I'll go," Jace volunteers, just as the sound of the door opening and closing reaches them.

"Me too!" Izzy agrees.

"Where are we going?" Clary asks, making her way into the living room.

"Nowhere-" Alec starts, at the same time Isabelle says, "A karaoke bar!" with great enthusiasm.

"Oh, I know a few great spots for that," Simon offers, and Magnus smirks as Alec groans. There's no way Alec is going to stay home knowing Magnus is out drinking with his siblings knowing the sort of chaos they could cause if left entirely unchecked. Not that Magnus would ever allow them to get in actual trouble, but...

"Fine. But not tonight. Please, my nerves can't take it this week," Alec practically pleads.

"Of course, darling," Magnus agrees.

Now that everyone is here Magnus heads to the kitchen to get more drinks for Clary and Simon. The night in is much more relaxing than an impromptu trip to a karaoke bar, that's for certain, complete with a mundane board game Simon brought with, more drinks, some food to soak those drinks up with, and a lot of laughter. By the end of it, with everyone now significantly tipsy if not full-on drunk, it's no surprise they end up back at the piano.

Clary and Jace sit on the bench while Jace tries to teach her a few chords to a song. It's awful, not that any of them expect it to be anything else. Alec challenges Jace to play something classical that would be complicated even while one is entirely sober, a challenge which Jace immediately accepts because he's Jace, and of course he does. The mood is so light that Magnus can't even bring himself to shoo Isabelle off the piano which she's currently sitting on top of, drink in hand, shifting so that she's lounging elegantly with one heeled foot up in the air like the girls in piano lounges in the movies while Simon hovers next to her in case she drops her drink, or herself, off the piano.

Tearing his focus away from the piano, Magnus wanders his way over to Alec who is watching his siblings and their significant others with open endearment from the sofa a few feet away. Magnus approaches him and holds out a hand, palm up in invitation. "May I?"

Alec looks from Magnus' hand up to his face for a moment before standing with a smile, placing his drink down on the side table so his left hand is free to wrap around Magnus' waist while his right takes his husband's hand. Alec looks like he intends on mostly swaying in place but Magnus has other plans. With a gentle tug forward he leads Alec around the coffee table, past the side of the sofa, and even for a brief diversion out onto the balcony while they dance around the loft in small circles of movement and the occasional dip or spin.

Not too many of those, though, after Alec starts to look a little queasy halfway through their dance despite his best efforts to hide it. Magnus isn't sure he'd admit it until he's two seconds away from ruining Magnus' shoes or one of their very expensive rugs so best to play it safe. By the end of the song they are just swaying, a simple back and forth in one another's arms. Whatever nerves Alec mentioned earlier from the previous week are long gone and he feels like putty in Magnus' hands.

"Thank you," Alec says softly, his voice barely above a whisper since his mouth is already next to Magnus' ear, chin resting on Magnus’ shoulder.

"For what?" Magnus asks.

"For this. Having my family over. I know we already intrude on your time normally, and I'm sure you don't want them around all the-"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Alexander. Because they aren't just your family, they're our family. And they're more than welcome as often as you want them here," Magnus tells him. "I know how much they mean to you, and if you still want to see them after working with them all day then I think I can manage a few nights a week of drunken Shadowhunters in the Loft."

"And vampires!" Simon chimes in instinctively before wincing. "Sorry. Vamp hearing, still don't really have a grip on turning it off when I'm drunk."

"Keep eavesdropping and I'm hiding the plasma next time," Magnus warns, though they all know it's an empty threat (and that Simon would show up, plasma or not).

Simon smiles, showing that he knows Magnus isn't serious, and turns back to helping Isabelle make her way down from the top of the piano as the last notes of Jace's song trail off to an end. Clary claps and Jace pushes the stool back so he can stand and take a very dramatic bow. The performance itself was riddled with mistakes, notes blurring together with fumbled keys and chords that were just a bit off, but even with all of those drunken errors it was better than most people with years of practice could probably manage. Magnus remembers his own poor performance on the first - and consequently last - instrument he attempted to take up before abandoning pursuits of a musical nature entirely. So, to give credit where credit is due, he drops his arms from around Alec to join in the small smattering of applause.

"Don't," Alec half-pleads, half-groans. "It'll go to his head."

Magnus laughs at that, returning his arms to wrap around Alec's waist. "You're lucky I like my hands better down here anyway," he murmurs into Alec's ear, sliding them down ever so slightly towards Alec's ass until he stops at the sound of Simon's voice.

"Gross-" Simon starts, and Magnus turns to level him with a warning glare for more eavesdropping that lacks any real heat. "They're getting flirty, I think that's our cue to leave."

Alec laughs lightly in Magnus' ear but it is very late. Magnus hadn't kept track of the time and he hadn't expected any of them to stay this long to begin with.

"Do you need a portal back? Or you can stay the night if you want," Magnus offers, not to anyone in particular because they're all welcome to spend the night if they need to. He can conjure up mattresses and cots for as many people as he needs if it's more than just one couple for the guest room.

"I think the fresh air will do me good," Jace says quickly.

"You just hate portaling when you're drunk," Isabelle chides.

"You're not the one he threw up on last time," Clary reminds Isabelle. "I'm all for walking if it means avoiding that fate again."

"You sure you're good?" Magnus asks one last time, because what kind of host would he be if he didn't?

They all nod. "Don't worry, I'll walk them back," Simon says, which might be more reassuring if Magnus wasn't acutely aware of how much plasma he had, but he seems to be steady enough with his arm around Isabelle to keep her from wobbling on her heels on their way towards the door.

"Text when you're back!" Alec calls, though that's routine for nights like these and the reminder is likely unnecessary.

"Yes, dad," Clary calls over her shoulder mockingly, but Magnus can hear the affection in her tone as she does and finds himself feeling rather fond of the whole scenario playing out in front of him.

Fond. It's not a word Magnus would've expected to associate with a bunch of Shadowhunters - and a vampire, he adds mentally, Simon's voice echoing in his head - but it's the one he keeps finding himself coming back to.

He enjoys watching how close they all are, how much they care not just about each other but the world around them. He’s fond of them as well, and not entirely because of their connection to Alec though that certainly helps.

Magnus turns to see about continuing the flirting he was recently accused of, only to be greeted by the sight of Alec slumped back down onto the sofa, eyes half-closed. If his heart wasn’t full of fondness before it certainly is now.

“C’mon, let’s get you to bed,” Magnus says. They make their way to the bedroom, with Magnus using a bit of magic to get them changed into sleepwear so they can crawl directly under the covers.

Just when Magnus is positive Alec is asleep he hears the gentle hum of a song he doesn’t recognize, but one that’s unmistakably a lullaby, sound through the silence. “Do I get sung to sleep every night, now?” Magnus whispers, shifting just enough to see the hint of a smile on Alec’s face in the dark.

Instead of answering Alec simply continues his quiet song, keeping himself awake just long enough for his phone to vibrate with the text from his siblings that they’re home safe. Only then does Magnus hear the notes fade to silence as they allow sleep to claim them.

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Keep On Missing You - Brad

First Part

Pairing: Brad Simpson X Reader

Authors note: songs are not at all in the correct order they were released in real life

Masterlist

You alright, love?” Brad snapped you out of your daze with a simple question. You composed yourself and gave him a tight smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Keep talking.” You said and took a sip of your coffee.

“You’re not fine.” Brad knew. “You can tell me what’s bothering you. Maybe I can help.”

You set down your coffee mug and sighed.

“Tom and I broke up last week.” You admitted.

“You did?” Brad asked, a little shocked, a little hopeful. 

You nodded and Brad reached over and took your hand. Before you could tell him that you appreciated him but weren’t looking for a new relationship, he smiled kindly at you.

“It seems like you could use a friend right now.” He said and your eyes softened.

“I could.” You nodded and squeezed his hand.

So, you became friends. You hung out at the studio with the band, helping Brad with lyrics or being taught how to play the guitar by James. You became close with The Vamps, Brad being the one you were closest too. He was protective over you but not possessive, always with a hand on your back at parties and always saving you a seat next to him. He knew you weren’t looking for a relationship and made it his duty to keep boys away from you, knowing how much you hated rejecting people. He even got grumpy when Tristin flirted with you or Connor hugged you a little too tightly after a show. You started spending every day with them, talking about your break up, your careers, or anything that came to mind. Brad took it upon himself to show you around London, the places tourists didn’t care to visit as he would say.

Most of your days were spent in Brads room, listening to him write new songs.

“Cause I got high hopes, high hopes. High hopes for me and you.” Brad sang quietly as you watched him fondly. He stopped playing and wrote a few chords down before picking up his guitar again. “When we grow old, I'll say…I’ll say, damn it, what will I say?”

“I told you so?” You suggested with a shrug. “I say that to you a lot.”

Brad smiled at you and picked up his guitar.

“When we grow old, I'll say I told you so. Cause I got high, high hopes for me and you.” He sand and looked at you for approval.

“Sounds good.” You smiled and Brad leaped across the bed to engulf you in a hug. You fell backwards with him on top of you and laughed at the sudden impact.

“Sound great. I’ve been stuck on this song for a week. You’re an angel.” He gushed and placed thankful kisses on your cheeks.

“I aim to please.” You giggled between cheek kisses.

“What would I do without you, darling?” He stopped suddenly, hovering over your face.

The nickname stung you like a bee. You couldn’t help but think of Tom and the fight you’d had in your dressing room that night. You slid out from under Brad and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“That’s what friends are for.” You smiled weakly, and he gave you a disappointed smile back. You’d blown your chance to kiss him, and you knew it.

More than a few times when nights in the studio bled into the morning, you’d fallen asleep on Brad’s shoulder as he lazily strummed his guitar. Brad would rest his head on top of yours as a million different lyrics about how fond of you he was rushed to his head. He would write them down as carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake up. Sometimes, you’d open your eyes a little and catch a glimpse of what he was writing.

“You tell me I’m a friend, but confused minds and blurred lines have brought it to an end.” Brad sang quietly as he fingered the guitar strings. You pretend to stay asleep, but listened closely to the song. You’d never heard it before and the lyrics caught your attention as he started singing about stolen moments.

“It’s harder to pretend that I don't want it all now. I need it even more every time you go. I hate to watch you go.” Brads voice, the one you’d loved for years, got a little louder as he got more passionate about what he was saying. He had you hanging onto every word.

“I'm breaking in to steal it all and I'll escape with every stolen moment that I spent with you. Call me a thief, girl if you want, but piece by piece I'll take each stolen moment.” He closed the song and wrote some more chords down, seemingly satisfied.

“That’s beautiful, Brad.” You spoke up and he jumped slightly.

“Morning, love. Did I wake you?” Brad chuckled as you rubbed your eyes.

“Yea, I don’t mind.” You lazily looked at him through your eyelashes. “Did you write that tonight?”

“Yeah, while you were sleeping.” He said.

“I love it.” You smiled and Brad rested his hand on your knee.

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled. “I wrote it for you.”

“You did?” You sat up, feeling like you did when you’d reconnected that night on Graham Norton’s couch.

“Yeah.” He laughed shyly. “You’re kinda like my muse.”

“Did you mean all of that?“ You asked. “Were all those lyrics true?”

“Yes.” Brad admitted, guilt evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you’re not looking to date but that’s how I feel.”

“It’s okay.” You told him. “The lyrics were right. You are a thief.”

“I am?” He asked, unsure of where you were going with it.

“You stole my heart.” You bit your tongue between your teeth.

“You should stick to acting, love. Don’t ever try to say something romantic again.” Brad laughed at your attempt to be romantic. You shifted in your position so you were facing him.

“Okay fine. How about this, I really like you and I want to be with you.” You told him and his eyes lit up. “Is that better?”

“Much.” Brad confirmed before leaning in and kissing you.

Your relationship with Brad was different from your one with Tom. Brad was soft where Tom was passionate and assertive where Tom was gentle. Dating a singer was different from dating an actor, you quickly found. You got used to loves songs pandered to you and sweaty post-show hugs. Despite how deeply in love you’d fallen with Brad, you felt a twinge of pain every time you passed a poster with Toms face on it or saw a commercial for his movie. It was weird to see pictures of him at red carpets, standing alone when you usually occupied the space next to him. Every time a picture of him showed up on your feed, you let yourself linger before scrolling past. His smile had changed, and you knew why.

You didn’t want to let your past with Tom affect your future with Brad. Things were going really well with him. He always let you style his hair before a performance and gave you the biggest kiss when he got off stage. You spent your nights in his apartment as he showed you some chords on the guitar or ran new lyrics by you. It was a perfect little relationship you’d entered into. He wasn’t jealous or overwhelming. He was just what you needed.

But then his tour started up again, and you saw him less and less. Daily FaceTimes calls turned into every other day calls, which turned into once a week calls. Texts that were usually answered within seconds were answered within days. You couldn’t sleep when he wasn’t there to shut the curtain. You tossed and turned all night, sending him texts that he didn’t answer. When your birthday passed and he didn’t call until three days later, you decided it was time to call it quits.

You gave yourself “you time” after that; no more boys, especially not British ones. But it quickly became apparent that being away from Brad was much lonelier than being with him, though that seemed impossible. The breakup was different from your one with Tom. It was heavier, colder and sadder. You felt a bit of your heart breaking every time you ignored his texts or declined his call. You couldn’t allow yourself to go back to him, even though you wanted too. He was just gonna break your heart all over again, or at least that’s what you told yourself every night as the empty space he left in your bed grew colder.

Seven months after your breakup, you switched the channel on your radio and heard Brads voice coming through in some new song. You were about to turn it off when you heard a familiar phrase.

“I've had space and time to realize the grass ain't greener and I kinda miss my side. Know I shoulda listened when you told me the first time, “You won't find another like me".” Brads pain filled voice sang, and suddenly, it was december again and you were in your apartment, fighting with your boyfriend.

“You’re overreacting. I just forgot! It’s not that big of a deal!” Brad shouted when you told him he’d forgotten your birthday.

“That’s not the only thing I’m upset about, Brad.” You yelled. “We don’t talk anymore. You’re never here. I feel like I’m dating a ghost.”

“I’m on tour, Y/n.” He whined. “It’s my job. And I was here three weeks ago.”

You stopped pacing around the room and looked at him.

“You were?” You asked in shock. He hasn’t called or told you he had been home.

“Yeah, uh.” Brad sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “I was gonna call I just-“

“Save it. I don’t want to hear it.” You shook your head and headed for his door.

“Baby-“ Brad took your wrist and gently made you look at him.

“Don’t.” You pulled your wrist out of his grasp. “It’s over.”

“Fine.” He stuttered. “Leave. See if I care.”

“You won’t find another like me.” You spat before walking out his door. “I can promise you that.”

“Yeah well.” Brad said but you were already gone. Tears fell down his eyes as he realized what he’d done. “I’m scared you’re right.”

The song snapped you back to reality.

“I look for love, but there's a space inside my mind where I keep on missing you, I keep on missing you. If you've seen enough, know that I'll be right here. Not with somebody new, I keep on missing you.”

You pulled into your driveway and pulled out your phone, opening twitter to send a quick message.

“I’ve seen enough.” You tweeted and then shut off your phone. A few hours later, you smiled to yourself when you saw Brad had retweeted it. It wasn’t much, a single olive branch, but it gave you hope for the future. You clicked on his profile and saw he had a new song coming out that Friday. Brad had tweeted something about it being meaningful to him, so you waited patiently for Friday to roll around to listen to it.

Thursday night at midnight, you practically bounced up and down as you waited for the song to drop. You felt like a high schooler again, but it didn’t matter to you. For the first time in a long time, the thought of Brad wasn’t making you miserable. You were excited again, and hopeful. Finally, you could listen to it.

“There’s a lot of things that I may not know. But missing you baby, that’s the only thing I know.” The song started and it hit you instantly. He still missed you, and you missed him.

“If my heart was paper, I’d fold. Throw it to the wind and just hope it ends up with you. I signed it with love from me to you.” You’d never heard him sound so sad on a song and so lamentfull. You sniffled a little and kept listening.

“And all that I ask is that at least you write me back, I’m waiting. Here’s my paper heart, won’t you hold it?” You smiled sadly to yourself as it ended.

The moment it was over, you pulled out your phone.

“James.” You messaged, heart racing.

“Y/n.” James responded.

“I have questions.” You said.

“I have answers.” He replied.

“Is Paper Hearts about me?” You sent. The bubbles appeared on your screen and you felt anxiety rising in your tummy.

“That’s classified.” He said and you groaned.

“Please?” You asked.

“I can’t break bro code.” He said.

“Yes you can buddy I believe in you.” You wrote back.

“May I ask why?” James sent.

“Because I’m in love with your stupid frontman and I need to know if he’s in love with me too.” You texted. It was bold but you were feeling a little risky.

“In that case.” He sent. “Paper Hearts is about you. I’m pretty sure every song we’ve ever written is about you. Please take him back. He’s been unbearable. I’m pretty sure he sleeps in your hoodie every single night. Do you know how bad that thing smells now?”

You read the message over and over until tears welled in your eyes.

“I miss him.” You sent. It was all you had the strength to say.

“Then you’re coming to the show tomorrow. I’ll text security and tell them to let you in. Kiss him, kill him, scream at him, whatever you need to do to fix things, do it.” James texted. You smiled and went to your closet, finding an old Oasis T-shirt of Brads that you’d kept.

“I’ll be there. Don’t tell him tho.“ you sent back.

“I won’t.” James said.

As promised, James had warned the security guards before your arrival. You waited in the wings as they performed, feeling the bass pumping through your body.

“This next song is called For You, and it’s about the girl I love. If you take anything away from this concert, I pray you treat the people you love how they deserve to be treated and realize how good things are while you still have them. If I had listened to that advice a few months ago, I wouldn’t have to write all these songs. This ones for my baby, wherever she may be.” Brad announced before singing his heart out to the crowd, but really to you.

The show finally ended and you’d told Connor before hand not to do an encore. Your heart was in your throat when you saw Brad walking off stage, causally pulling his earpiece out of his ear and having no idea you were there. When he got closer, you stepped out of the shadows.

“Brad?” You asked, and his head snapped up at the sound of your voice. He looked at you incredulously, like he couldn’t believe you were really there.

“Y/n?” He asked and engulfed you in a giant hug. You laughed happily at being in his arms again. “What are you doing here?” He asked, still in shock.

“Your paper heart. It ended up with me.” You smiled weakly, feeling emotional at the sight of him as you placed a hand over his heartbeat. He instinctively placed his heart over yours.

“Oh, baby…” he sighed like the was about to tell you bad news. “I thought I told you not to try to say romantic things. Leave it to me.”

“How about you shut up and kiss me?” You suggested, and a wicked smile dawned on his face.

“I like that idea. I’ve missed you, love.” He said before pulling your face to his kissing you like it was the last thing he’d ever do.

Tag List 🏷

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[miserablesme]

The Les Miserables Changelog Part 1: Barbican Previews

Hello everyone! I'm starting out a blog which will look at my favorite musical, Les Miserables, and will discuss the various changes it has gone through over time (musically and lyrically). As it turns out, a LOT of edits have been made over the years so this will doubtless be a series with several parts.

This first part may well be the most difficult and will almost certainly be the most incomplete, as previews can be a time of extensive editing and experimentation. At least for the first few weeks or so, it's perfectly possible any one day of previews will be slightly different than any other day. However, I only have access to two audios from the Barbican Theatre previews of Les Miserables, meaning it's likely that lyrical variants exist which I have no way of hearing.

I am aware of the existence of a third audio which is fairly early in the run of previews, as the tape's master has told me that Gavroche's death scene is in its original form (I'll clarify that later). However, that tape has never been traded, and has sadly only been listened to by its master. I am also aware of a video proshot of the Barbican era that exists in the Royal Shakespeare Company library, but currently have no access to it. I plan to inquire about whether I can look at it sometime (though I'm not sure a blog like this is "official" enough to warrant it for research purposes). As such, this comparison only entails the two widely circulated audios from the Barbican run.

Now that we've gotten that cleared up, let's get started!

First, let's look at the opening "Work Song". In the earlier recording I have (let's call it R1), the beginning music (the same tune used, for instance, at the opening of "At the End of the Day" and "One Day More" and for Marius and Cosette's meeting in "The Robbery") stops. Then, a few moments later, the more familiar opening that leads directly into the prologue begins. By the time of the later recording I have (let's call it R2), the scores have been combined so that the first tune directly transitions into the second one.

Meanwhile, in R1 there is a sequence of lines that goes as follows:

I've done no wrong

Sweet Jesus, hear my prayer

Look down, look down

Sweet Jesus doesn't care

I killed a man

He tried to steal my wife

Look down, look down

She wasn't worth your life

I know she'll wait

I know that she'll be true

Look down, look down

She's long forgotten you

Most fans of the musical recognize the middle sequence of lines ("I killed a man" through "She wasn't worth your life") as no longer being lines in the show (for good reason, as we'll get into in a later edition of this blog). However, R2 keeps the lines. Instead, it deletes the third sequence ("I know she'll wait" through "She's long forgotten you"). I have no idea if this lasted only a few performances or made it all the way to the end of the Barbican run, or somewhere in between.

During "On Parole", specifically after Valjean is underpaid for his labor and sings about his frustration, R1 uses a variation of the "Work Song" theme which, to my recollection, is heard nowhere else in the musical. It can be heard here. By R2, it was switched to an in-tune version of the number with a unique opening. The musical retains that version to this day, but in case you can't recall it you can hear it here.

Minus an unintentional line flub in "At the End of the Day" in R2, the two Barbican recordings seem to use the same libretto and score from this point until "The Runaway Cart". At this point, R1 has a rather extensive scene leading up to Valjean saving Fauchelevent, which goes approximately as follows (the dialog is difficult to make out):

(VALJEAN)

Is there anyone here who will rescue the man?

Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart?

I will pay any man thirty louis d’or more

I will do it myself if there’s no one who will

We can’t let him die like that down in the street

Can you all watch him die and do nothing at all?

(FAUCHELEVENT)

Don’t approach me, Monsieur Mayor

The cart’s not gonna be holding

Not my poor mother would care if I should die

(TOWNSPEOPLE)

Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor

There's nothing at all you can do

The old man's a goner for sure

Leave him alone

Most of that dialog is deleted in R2, so that it goes directly from "Who will help me to shoulder the weight of the cart" to "Don't go near him, Monsieur Mayor". I really like the idea of the original version; it seems reasonable that Valjean, having become a more trusted man, would expect the townspeople to help him. It's more meaningful that Valjean is good enough to do what's right when there's more time to establish that no one else is. Having said that, the original version did take quite a while and didn't really contain any relevant information that wasn't in the final version. I think the cut version as heard in R2 is a good compromise and retains the general mood and pacing to make Valjean's ultimate action satisfying (something that can't be said of later cuts, as will be discussed in a future edition of this blog).

Additionally, at the end of the number Javert refers to "the mark upon his skin" in R1 and "the brand upon his skin in R2 (as well as literally every subsequent performance since then to my knowledge). I have no idea if the "mark" line was a minor flub or was actually the original lyric.

"Who Am I?" is an interesting one. The musical content is identical in R1 and R2, but in R1 after his high note, Valjean shouts "You know where to find me!" with emotion so dramatic it sits right on the border between awesome and campy. By contrast, Valjean is totally silent after his high note in R2. Neither version would see its final day just yet, although the latter certainly has become more traditional over time. More on that in future editions.

From this point until "Master of the House" everything is the same between the two recordings. Roger Allam even comes in slightly late in both "Confrontation" scenes (making his line "-jean, at last...")! However, in the opening to "Master of the House" the following lines occur in R1:

(THENARDIER)

My band of soaks, my den of dissolutes

My dirty jokes, my always pissed as newts

My sons of whores

Spend their lives in my inn

Homing pigeons flying in

They fly through my doors

And their money's good as yours

(CUSTOMERS)

Ain't got a clue what he put into his stew

Must've scraped it off the street

Hell, what a wine

Châteauneuf de Turpentine

Must've pressed it with his feet

Landlord over here

Where's the bloody man

One more for the road

One more slug of gin

Just one more or my old man is gonna do me in

All of those lines would be scrapped in R2. Personally I prefer this shortened variant than the one that would occur much later. Sure, some fun moments get lost, but nothing that actually adds any substance or characterization to the musical (unlike the later cut, which I'll discuss in a later edition of this blog). Some have speculated that this is simply lost dialog due to a tape flip of degrading, given that future performances would retain those lines. However, there is firsthand confirmation that the cuts were in fact part of the performance. To quote Trevor Nunn on page 87 of 1990's The Complete Book of Les Miserables (a page which elaborates that "the cost of overtime incurred after three hours could be crippling at a time when Les Miserables was still trying to find an audience"):

"Cameron wanted major cuts, which would have reduced its length to two and a half hours. I resisted, refusing to discuss things on those terms... Some of the other proposed cuts - like the removal of the "Master of the House" scene-setting preamble - were tried out in previews and then restored as the scenes would not work without them."

From a historical perspective that quote is invaluable. As will be brought up in a later blog post (notice a pattern today?) the musical would in fact be cut much later to avoid overtime charges. When people like myself have expressed the opinion that these cuts come at the expense of artistic integrity, I've seen others defend them by claiming that the overtime costs never were relevant to Cameron and the gang until Broadway sales began to go down, and that if they were taken into account the musical may well be in its shortened form from the beginning. However, this quote proves that argument to be false. Right from day one, the crew was aware that retaining a >3 hour runtime would come with severe financial costs, but this was deemed a worthy sacrifice in order to tell the story they wanted told. Indeed, it sounds like Cameron Mackintosh was waiting quite some time to enact his infamous cuts! (Cameron Mackintosh valuing profit above art?! Crazy, right??)

But I digress. Going back to the musical, the "Waltz of Treachery" number is mostly the same. However, after Valjean's "It won't take you too long to forget" line, R1 has over a minute of wordless vamping which leads right into the rather awkwardly-placed "Stars" song. By contrast, in R2 this vamping (which is still a minute long, mind you) leads into a humming duet between Little Cosette and Valjean, similar to the duet right before the number. A nice little bookend that makes the scene feel all the more resolved. (Much later this duet reprise would ironically be scrapped again, though!) The remaining segment of R1's vamping now plays after this sequence in R2.

Minus some unintentional missed lines at the beginning of "Stars" in R1, the recordings seem to follow the same libretto right up until "One Day More". Here, R1 uses the following lines:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

Was there ever love so true?

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

However, by R2 this scene is in its current form:

(EPONINE)

One more day with him not caring

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

I was born to be with you

(EPONINE)

What a life I might have known

(MARIUS and COSETTE)

And I swear I will be true

And that closes act one! Going on to the second act, the opening barricade scene has a few changes. First off, following the opening notes, R1 features a rather odd tune bearing resemblance to "Do You Hear the People Sing" (which can be heard here) before transitioning to a more true-to-form instrumental reprise of "Do You Hear the People Sing?" By contrast, R2 goes straight from the opening notes to the true-to-form reprise.

Next, Enjolras proclaims "Have faith in yourself and do not be afraid" in R1, while in R2 he instead states "Every man to his duty and don't be afraid". It's unknown if this was an intentional libretto change or if it simply reflects a flub during R1. A later sequence uses the "Have faith in yourself" line, meaning he may have just sung the wrong line for that particular scene.

Finally, R1 includes the following sequence (at least I think this is how it goes, since the lyrics are a little hard to hear):

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And join with you

Who gives a speech in the square

Fortunately, R2 uses a much less clunky (though still somewhat so) sequence:

(PROUVAIRE)

And the people will fight

(GRANTAIRE)

And so they might

Some will bark, some will bite

This isn't quite its current form ("dogs" and "fleas" will soon respectively replace the two usages of "some"), but it's pretty darn close.

I've heard that the very first Barbican preview(s?) didn't have a finalized opening to "On My Own". Sadly there is no known audio record of this, so I cannot comment on what exactly it began as. As such, the next major change takes place during Gavroche's death scene. This honestly is probably the biggest of all the changes between the two recordings. R1 uses the following death scene (in the tune of "Look Down" right up until the "So never kick a dog" verse, which is in the tune of "Little People"):

How do you do, my name’s Gavroche

These are my people, here’s my patch

Not much to look at, nothing posh

Nothing that you’d call up to scratch

Some fool, I bet, whose brains are made of fat

Picks up a gun and shoots me down

Nobody told him who he’s shooting at

He doesn’t know who runs this town

Life’s like that

There’s some folk

Missed the joke

That’s three, that’s three

That one has done for me

Too fast, too fast

They’ve got Gavroche at last

So never kick a dog

Because he’s just a pup

You better run for cover when the pup grows...

By contrast, R2 uses a much shorter variant which is set entirely to the tune of "Little People":

And little people know

When little people fight

We may look easy picking but we've got some bite

So never kick a dog

Because he's just a pup

You'd better run for cover when the pup grows up

And we'll fight like twenty armies and we won't give...

This is much closer to its current form, although the last two lines are inverted (we'll get to that in a later edition).

We now fast-forward to "Dog Eats Dog", which while recognizable is very different from the number we know today. The chorus of R1 claims that "It's a dirty great sewer that's crawling with rats", which R2 changes it to "stinking great sewer" instead. I'd definitely say the revised lyric better captures Thenardier's and the sewer's grossness.

Additionally, regarding Marius' ring, Thenardier originally exclaims that he "didn't mean to waste it, that would really be a crime". By R2, the line changes to "wouldn't want to waste it", which I'd say makes a lot more sense.

"Javert's Suicide" has changed a lot. R1 features the following remarks following "Vengeance was his and he gave me back my life":

Damned if I live in this caper of grace

Damned if I live in the debt of Valjean

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

Is this the law or has sanity gone?

(I'm a little unsure as to how accurate the final line is.)

By R2, the lines have been replaced with the current ones:

Damned if I live in the debt of a thief

Damned if I yield at the end of the chase

I am the law and the law is not mocked

I'll spit his pity right back in his face

In R1, the "Where's the new world, now the fighting's done" line is absent, and there is nothing but instrumentals in the segment where it is usually sung. By contrast, it is sung as usual in R2. My guess is that an actress simply forgot her line in R1 and it was always supposed to be there, though I can't say for sure.

The final change occurs at the wedding scene. The singing which opens the number is repeated in R1. By contrast, R2 has it sung once and then done with, as it currently is (and as it should be in my opinion, since the music isn't particularly pretty and contributes nothing to the plot).

Later in the same scene, R1 includes approximately this exchange (again, it's quite hard to make out the exact lyrics):

(THENARDIER)

I was there

Never fear

Even got me this fine souvenir

He was there

Her old dad

*indecipherable* and fleecing this lad

Robbed the dead

That's his way

(MME. THENARDIER)

That's worth five hundred any old day

(MARIUS)

I know this...

By R2, everything between "He was there" and "Any old day" were removed, which makes sense given that they essentially just rehash what was already said.

Finally, there's a subtle difference in the epilogue, specifically during the "Do You Hear the People Sing?" reprise. In R1, the ensemble sings "They will live again in glory in the garden of the Lord". R2 replaces the word "glory" with "freedom", and that word remains the one used to this day. I suppose "freedom" is more appropriate for the context of peace and prosperity. To many, I'd guess that "glory" conjures imagery of knights, battles, and the like; just the kind of violence that the characters wish to move away from! I have no idea if this was why the writers changed the lyric, but it's my hypothesis.

Towards the end of the show, the chorus in R1 sings "Even the darkest moon will end and the sun will rise". By R2, this is changed to "the darkest night". Makes more sense to me, since moons aren't known for being particularly dark!

And that just about sums this part up! If I missed anything feel free to let me know, as my goal is to create a changelog as thorough and complete as possible. I plan on making more parts in the near future covering all the changes that have been made in the show up until this day (discounting concerts). Any feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated.

As a side note, both for this project and my own enjoyment, I want as complete a collection of Les Miserables audios as possible. I already have most of what's commonly circulated, but if you have any audios or videos you know are rare, I'd love it if you DMed me!

Until the turntable puts me at the forefront again, good-bye...

[mila-dans]

Symphony of Sadness & Chorus of Pain

Hi, everyone! This is most definitely a different change of pace and tone when compared to my normal writing. I wrote this one for me and whoever else needs it. This 7000 word piece of work deals with some very real and dark issues in a very supernatural way. Its got depression, attempted suicide, and a whole lot of self deprecation. This is a reader insert so if you dare read this, be warned that it is very dark. It does have what I would call a happy ending though. 

Please realize that if you ever find yourself suffering from types of issues like this, know that you are not alone. Seek help. You have friends around you. I am here for you if you need it. I’m not the strongest but I will share my strength with you. 

This was written for me to read when I am feeling down and I hope the same can go for you. :)

It wasn’t okay. You were not okay. This was it. This was the end. Your end. The grand finale of your life. You were going to die all alone. Suffer alone. The most ironic thing is the fact that no one knows. No one knows how you feel. You can’t even describe the feeling if you could. The feeling of destruction. The last straw falling. The final structure crumpling right before you. This was the end of your life. Now, it is time for you to die.

_____________________

Before the end…

You and the Winchester brothers had just taken down a couple of witches who were wreaking havoc on any man who caused them any sort of suffering. And apparently, a lot of men caused them pain. As opposed to most regular hunts, you were the lead on this one. Couldn’t have the boys ending up hexed like the other men who you all found dead in the basement. 

“Gruesome,” Dean described it as the three of you got back into the Impala. “Burn witch, burn.” Dean started the ignition as you all watched in awe as the house went up in flames. It was the best way to put an end to, well, all of it. 

“You alright, Y/n?” Sam asked, turning around in the seat to face you. He was referring to when you got knocked out by the witch. You hadn’t thought anything about it. It wasn’t a fatal blow. All that happened is that when you confronted the witches while the boys were investigating other parts of the house, they simply blasted you and caused you to become unconscious. Lucky you, you happened to awake right as the fighting started.

“I’m fine,” you said with a smile.

“You sure?” Dean furthered. “Like no love spell or webbed feet or anything like that?” You chuckled a  bit.

“No.” You smiled. “No love spell, no webbed feet, no to anything other than a headache.” Sam smirked at you as he turned back around, grabbing a bottle of aspirin from the glovebox and throwing it in your hands. “Thank you,” you said as you shook the bottle and popped a tablet in your mouth. 

They were most definitely not fast acting. Your head felt as if a bulldozer, you know, dozed it. Funny. It didn’t hurt in any one place specifically. It just hurt all over. Your mind felt fried too. You weren’t going to worry the boys or anything though by telling them how you really felt. 

They had enough going on. It always seemed to be some boss battle that was bigger and more bad than the last. The pressure of saving the world was always on them. When was it going to end? When were you all going to die by some vamp or ghoul or in Dean’s case, bacon? The work never stopped. It never ceased. It always seemed to be a never ending cycle of pain, torture, death, repeat. 

You were set aback by your more angsty and depressing thoughts. You usually pushed those away when you were with the boys. It had been a while since you let anything slip out of your mind vault like that. Truth is, you all had your demons. Sam and Dean really had theirs though. Even Cas. To think that yours were even as close to being as bad as theirs was just one big laughing matter. You had never talked about your small and miniscule problems with them.

What was the point? Sure you suffered from bad things but it couldn’t even pale in comparison when it came to your family’s. They had it so much worse than you. Dean was in hell. Literal hell. He suffered for thirty years and then tortured people for ten. That was horrible. The weight of the burdens that he carried was unbearable. Trying to wake up in the morning was a struggle every day for him. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

You shut your eyes for a moment trying to prevent any more dark thoughts to enter your mind. You tried to focus on the rock music that was playing on the radio. It was Bob Seger, your favorite. As a way to get further from the unusual thoughts, you decided to sing along with the lyrics of “Old Time Rock and Roll.”

“Just take those old records off the shelf!” You belted out from the backseat as you reached over to turn up the volume.

“I’ll sit and listen to ‘em by myself!” Dean sang. The two of you smiled as you turned to the disappointed Sammy who was clearly not getting into the song.

“Today's music ain't got the same soul!” You continued to sing as you hit Sam on the shoulder making him smile just a little.

“I like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!” Dean followed. “Come on, Sammy!” Dean shouted as the two of you faced the reluctant Grinch. Sam rolled his eyes at the both of you.

“Don’t try to take me to the disco!” Sam sang.

“Yeah, Sammy!” Dean smiled.

“You’ll never even get me out on the floor!” Sam sang again.

“In ten minutes I’ll be late for the door!” You added. “I like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!”

“Still like that old time rock ‘n’ roll!” The three of you sang all together. “That kind of music just soothes the soul! I reminisce about the days of old. With that old time rock ‘n’ roll!”

The trio of you and the brothers continued to sing all the way back to the bunker. It was amazing. It was really great to feel happy again. You hadn't in so long. You would’ve labeled it as depression but you knew that it wasn’t even worth some actual medical exam to say what’s wrong with you. It was nothing. Even if it was depression, you had no right to complain about it. You had no right to say that you needed help when countless other people needed help too. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter.

You tried to focus on singing with Sam and Dean but the bad thoughts you had couldn’t help but linger in the back of your mind.

This is stupid. I am stupid. I just need to go back to singing. I am with the people that I love most and I should be happy. I’m so happy. I am unbelievably happy.

You were upset that you couldn’t convince yourself with the reassurance of lies. Instead, you pushed the thoughts down. Deep, deep down. You just continued to sing with a false smile laced on your face, hoping to feel something. Hoping to feel happy. Hoping to feel anything.

________________

Do I matter? Am I worth the trouble of being here? Sam, Dean, and Castiel say that they love me but, do they really? Do they care or am I just a burden to them? Cas has had to take on so much in his life. You were for sure just some other person that he thought he’d have to protect. Have to save. He cared for the boys. He always has. He cared for humanity. Could they even classify you as human? You’ve done countless bad things. You’ve hurt your loved ones. Sure the boys were the best examples of people who make mistakes but they are heroes. They didn’t need to apologize. They saved the world. You might’ve helped but it didn’t matter. They were the faces, the faces wearing the capes with a symbol of hope plastered across their chest. You weren’t a sidekick. You weren’t even a part of the team.

“Hey! Y/n?” Sam called. “Are you alright?” You looked up to Sam as you got snapped out of your daze. You didn’t know how long you had been standing up in the kitchen with the pot of coffee in your hand. Weird.

“Yeah, sorry,” you replied as you set down the pot and regained your composure. You gave Sam a reassuring smile.

“You sure you’re alright, Y/n?” You nodded at the concerned Sam. “I mean, I don’t mean to press but you’ve been seeming like something’s been bothering you the past couple months.” You turn your head and give Sam an oblivious look.

“Have I?” You question as you start to fiddle with the coffee again.

“Yeah, you have,” Sam says slowly. You feel his worried gaze on you but you try to quickly change the subject.

“What did you need me for?” You take a deep breath before you turn back around to face the young Winchester to give a half hearted smile. Sam looks at you with the obvious worry on his face but shakes it off.

“I um, I was going to go on a supply run. Do you want to come?” he looks at you, suspicious of how you might respond. You give him a big smile as an attempt to throw him off.

“Yeah! Of course! Just let me get my jacket,” you say as you walk past him giving a reassuring pat on the back.

___________________

“Cas!” You called as you walked past him in his room. “You need anything from the store? Me and Sam are about to head out.” 

“No, I’m fine,” he responds. “Are you okay, Y/n?”

“On food?” You question playing clueless. 

“Not on food.” Cas walks up to you as you stand still in his doorway. “I mean, are you alright in the mental sense?”

“I’m great, Cas!” You lie with a smile. “I’m better than ever. My head hurts just a little from getting knocked out earlier though. But other than that, tip top shape.” You nod your head once more as Cas looks at you with yet another concerned face.

“I could try and see what’s the problem in your head if you’d like?” Cas asks as he starts to put his hand towards your head. You take a fast step away, clearly giving him more reason for worry.

“No, no. I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine,” you clarify. You try to ignore the worrisome look that covers his face. “I’m gonna go,” you say with a smile as you walk away. “Bye!”

Stupid. He could’ve helped you. He could’ve seen what was going on in your head and tried to help take the pain away.

You tried to push away the thoughts as you continued your walk down the hallway.

If he helped, he would’ve seen it all. He would've seen the fear, the worry, the anxiety. He would’ve seen every single one of your little, measly, insignificant problems. It would be a waste of his time to sort through all your overdramatic issues. How could you even know that he wouldn’t just judge you right there on the spot or end up leaving you like the rest of them? I mean, everyone that you have opened up to has left you or worse. All your old friends stopped talking to you cold turkey just when you thought you could trust them. That was your fault though. They trusted you and needed you and even though you helped them, you couldn’t be honest. Of course they left you. Everyone always leaves you and it’s all your fault.

___________________

You sat in the car with your head leaned against the window. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. They were getting worse. You kept trying to push them down like you always have but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

“Y/n!” Sam called as he lightly hit your shoulder. You turned towards him confused. “I’ve been calling your name for a minute.”

“Oh,” you say as you sit up. This isn’t good.

“You can talk to me, Y/n,” Sam says. You just continue to stare down at the ground and start to feel one of your old battle wounds on your wrist.

“About what?” You ask trying to play it off, unsuccessfully.

“About whatever is bothering you!” Sam’s tone starts to rise as he gets frustrated with your playing dumb act. “We all know that something is going on with you. You don’t even have to hide it. Sometimes you don’t even try to anymore. We are worried about you, Y/n. All of us. We thought that maybe you were just down in the dumps and would ask for help if you needed it but you haven’t.

…

…

Y/n!” Sam shouts as you suddenly snap out of your daze. “Will you stop that?!” You face him with true confusion. He points at your wrist. “You’re making yourself bleed!” You look down at your wrist as you notice how you’ve completely reopened the wound causing blood to go all over your pants.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. You weren’t even listening to Sam. Now look at what you’ve done!

“I’m sorry--I’m so sorry!” You mumble out as you quickly wipe the blood that has stained a spot on the seat.

“Y/n?” Sam questions with a softer tone as you look up at him with watery eyes. “Why are you sorry?”

“I--I--I just am,” you try to say. You quickly ball up all the tissues and put them in your pocket, trying to reassure yourself that it never happened. You look back up at Sam and see the concern on his face. You try to form words to change the topic at hand but fall short of excuses.

“Y/n, please,” Sam says sincerely, “Please just talk to me. Just let me in. Let Dean or--or even Cas in. Just talk to one of us. Please.” You look down at the ground again as you try to press your nails into the palm of your hands in order to distribute the pain somewhere else. “Y/n,” Sam says as he moves his hand onto yours, opening it up. “Stop it, please.”

“No!” You shout as you throw his hand to the side. “I’m fine! I’m perfectly fine! You and Dean and Castiel just need to mind your own damn business! Now quit asking if I’m okay, or if I'm alright, or what’s wrong with me! Nothing is wrong, got it?!” You take a deep breath and fall back into your seat as you wipe the tears that had escaped your eyes. You can feel the tension in the car in between you and Sam as you go back to staring out the window.

You stupid idiot! You completely ruined everything! This was your chance at asking for help and you blew it! Now you’re never gonna get that chance again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Sam probably wouldn’t have even listened to you in the first place. He had been tortured by the devil. He had been to the worst part of hell. Do you think he had time to listen to you whine about your emotions? Do you think he actually even cared? He was your family. He had to ask about you. He was designated to do so. It is just him trying to be kind. As if he could ever care about you. As if anyone could ever care about you.

__________________

You slammed the door shut as you stepped out of the car. You raced inside the grocery store as Sam called out your name. You didn’t even bother to look back or respond. All you did was search for the bathroom as soon as you walked inside.

The further you made your way into the store, the worse your thoughts got. It was different though. It felt as if they weren’t just yours.

What is happening to me?! Why can’t these thoughts just go away?! Please, just go away!

You put the toilet seat lid down as you sat on it, placing your hands on your face as you started to sob. You felt so broken, so busted inside. You felt so much pain. So much emotion. You just wanted it to end. You just wanted it to stop.

“Honey?” A voice called from outside the shut stall door. “Are you alright?” You started to sniff as the thoughts died down just enough to understand the complete stranger who was worrying about you. You wiped the tears and opened the door.

“I’m fine, Mamn,” you said as you gave a smile to the elder lady. She smiled back at you. She seemed kind and nice. A complete stranger. You always thought that it was easier to tell a stranger secrets about yourself than someone who you knew and trusted. “Stranger’s security,” you called it.

“What’s the matter, Dear?” She asked again as her smile made you giggle a little.

“I’m just overwhelmed,” you admitted. You stood up and walked out of the stall to face her. “I just don’t know what to do.” She took your hand and immediately, you began to think the worst.

She doesn’t care about you! Don’t put your burdens on her! Don’t bother her! You are being selfish if you think for just one minute that it’s okay to open up. Think of how as soon as you admit how you feel to her, she’s just gonna make your heart break even more when you realize it’s just charity. It means nothing to her. You mean nothing to her!

“I’m sorry!” You say as you remove her hand from yours and start to head for the door. “I’m so sorry!” Once outside of the bathroom, you begin to feel completely out of sorts as you see the crowds of people staring at you as tears stream down your bright red face. “I--I…” You duck through the rows of people as you race back to the car. You open the door to the backseat and jump inside, locking yourself in as quickly as possible.

Your thoughts become so overwhelming that you are unable to follow any thread of ideas or worries. It’s all one big mess of problems and fear, as the walls in your head collapse in on itself. It was all you. It was all falling on you. You had no idea what was going on or why this was happening. You couldn't even think straight. You could only close your eyes and be engulfed into the sadness and pain.

____________________

You heard the car door open, drawing your attention away from your abundance of overwhelming thoughts. You look up to see Sam get into the car and turn to see you. You were clueless to see how much of a wreck you looked like but you didn’t have to know. The expression on his face said it all. He started to open his mouth to probably try to console or comfort you.

“No, Sam,” you said, stopping any words before they left his mouth. “Please just take me home,” you requested as you slowly turned back into facing the seat, feeling the darkness pull you closer to it.

You are worthless. You are nothing. Look at Sam. You think you have problems? Sam has spent his whole life living in fear. Living with truly overwhelming problems. He has to stay alive so that he can be there for Dean. Be there for Cas. He can’t choose to die, to give up. He doesn’t have the option. People need him. People rely on him. He has a brother and a best friend who loves him. He carries the world on his shoulders and never, ever gets a break.

You once again become caught up in your empathetic thoughts. Your mindset was in complete chaos. For some reason, you couldn’t just think about you, you thought about everyone else and all their problems. It’s as if you could feel whatever they were feeling and think whatever they had thoughts. Impossible. 

____________________

You sat on your bed as you stared at the plate of food that was set before you. You couldn’t eat. You didn’t want to eat. It’s not like you wanted to starve, it’s just, you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you were hungry or if you had to eat. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter.

“Y/n,” Dean calls out as he opens your door and walks inside. You were out of it, again, not even noticing his knock. He takes a seat on your bed as he puts the plate of food on your nightstand. “Not eating?” He asks.

“Not hungry,” you respond. You would try to give a false smile but you are unable to do even that. He looks at you, clearly trying to read your face. You just pulled up your knees close to your body, wrapping your arms around them

“Sam told me what happened, Y/n,” Dean says. “What’s going on?” You can hear the care and concern in your voice. If anyone knew about demons it would be Dean. He was one after all.

Sure, tell Dean what’s bothering you. Have him laugh in your face when you rant and bitch about all your little problems. It’s not like he’s ever able to. He has to hide all of his problems. He has to haul them all up and lock them down, never getting to deal. He can’t deal. There is never a single second in the day that he has to relax or has to calm down. Sam always says that he can talk to him but putting his burdens on Sammy wasn’t right. They were his burdens. All his. It was up to him to carry everyone else. It was all on him. He had the weight of the world in one hand and the weight of everyone else in his other. He didn’t have time to care or worry about himself. It would be pathetic to ask for help. Childish to need someone to lean on.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts. You open your eyes as you take notice of Dean’s hand on your shoulder. You swat it away and stand up from the bed.

“Get out of here, Dean! Leave me alone!” You shout. Dean gets up quickly as you push him out the door. 

“Y/n! Whatever is goi--” You shut the door on Dean and lock it before he has a chance to finish his words.

You slump down with your back against the door, falling onto the ground. The floor was freezing against the back of your legs. You didn’t care. It didn’t matter. You didn’t matter. You were nothing. You are nothing.

_________________

These men save the world. You save nothing. You aren’t worth saving. Most of the people that they save aren’t worth it. But you? You are at the bottom of the barrel. How you have made it this far in life is perplexing. You should be dead. 

You laid in bed as the thoughts and feelings kept you awake. You couldn’t move. You could barely breathe. These thoughts, they weren’t just yours. They were Sam’s thoughts. Dean’s thoughts. Cas’s thoughts. You were being clouded by their emotions. It was a mix of all of their pain and all of yours.

He rebelled against his family, against his home, and for what? So that he could watch everyone that he loved fail?

What did he do when he wasn’t in control? Who was having to clean up his trail of messes? 

It was all on him. Everything was on him. It was his fault that they died. Hasn’t it always been?

Death. It was his fault. It was all their fault. It was all your fault. Worthless. Stupid. All on him. It was all caused by you. The world would be better off without you. He meant nothing. You were nothing. Die. Die! Die! Die! Die!

“No!” You screamed at the top of your lungs. “Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!” You screeched as you shattered the plate of glass on the floor, cutting your hand, causing so much more pain. You continued to yell for the thoughts to leave your head. 

“Y/n! Stop it!” Sam yelled as he kicked in your door. You struggled to breath as the dark thoughts consumed you.

Worthless. Nothing. Piece of trash. Nothing. You should be dead. 

“No!” You continued to scream. Dean tried to walk closer to you but you swatted him away. “Don’t touch me!” You screamed at the boys.

“Cas! Do something!” Dean demanded. The angel walked closer to you but you knew that if he touched you, if anyone touched you, if anyone tried to help, it was all over.

“Don’t!” You shouted as you reached for the angel blade and immediately all the hands went up in defense. Castiel backed away as you walked slowly towards the door.

“Y/n,” Sam tried to say, walking closer to you. “Please, put the weapon down.”

“You don't’ underst--shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” The thoughts continued to pound in on your head. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face or the ones that the boys had. You just continued to try and stop the thoughts, the voices, the feelings and emotions. You raced down the halls and out the door as quick as possible.

“Stop it!” You mumbled as you found a clearing behind a tree in a small wooded area behind the bunker. The thoughts wouldn’t stop. But now, now they were all yours. Just yours.

You are nothing! You are less than nothing! You deserve to die! You deserve to go to hell! It’s where you belong! You’ve done wrong, you’ve done bad! There is no saving you! There is no point! You should just die! There is no point in a maggot like you taking up space in a world that is far too good for you! Just die! You already cause so much death around you, why don’t you just end it?! Just do it. Just die! You are nothing. You are useless. You are worthless! You are unimportant! You are hated! You are stupid! Self-centered! Idiotic! You are dead!

It wasn’t okay. You were not okay. This was it. This was the end. Your end. The grand finale of your life. You were going to die all alone. Suffer alone. The most ironic thing is the fact that no one knows. No one knows how you feel. You can’t even describe the feeling if you could. The feeling of destruction. The last straw falling. The final structure crumpling right before you. This was the end of your life. Now, it is time for you to die.

You feel the emotions clouding your judgement. You see the angel blade. There is no stopping it. This was the way. The way to stop the thoughts. This was it. Your hand trembles, tears fall.

NOTHING! WORTHLESS! MEANINGLESS! STUPID! YOU ARE--

You take a deep breath and open your eyes. The angel blade falls from your hand.

“They stopped,” you whisper. The voices have all stopped. You wipe your eyes and stand. Your headache leaves. It’s all gone. You weren’t dead. You didn’t know what you were or what happened. You still feel the pain but it was just yours. It was only the pain that you’ve carried for years. The pain that you can handle. You still have tears fall down your face but it’s not as bad as it was.

You walk back to the bunker and open the door. You slowly walk down the stairs as you see Sam, Dean, and Castiel run towards you. When you make it to the last step, you give a smile their way and then collapse to the floor.

“Y/n!” Dean shouts as he rushes to your side. You just continue to smile, unable to see them through your watery eyes. Sam puts his arms underneath you as he scoops you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” Sam says as he carries your body into the infirmary. “It’s okay.” He lays you down on the bed as you just shrivel up into a little ball. You hear them talk amongst themselves but unable to make out what is said. You see your trench coated companion walk close to you as he lays his hand on your head. Sam takes a seat in a chair facing you and Dean sits by your feet on the bed. Dean places his hand on your leg, trying to comfort you and Sam takes your hand, doing the same. Castiel removes his hand from your head as you begin to close your eyes.

“Y/n,” Castiel starts to say. You can hear the shock in his tone. Whatever it was, he was lost for words. 

“What is it?” Dean asks. You shut your eyes tight as you hear the three of them walk out of the room.

You try to sit up in the bed and manage to wipe the tears from your eyes. Fully able to see, you watch the boys walk back into the room. 

“What?” You ask quietly as you see the amazed expressions on their face. Dean rushes over to you and wraps his arms around you. The second he lets go, Sam comes to your side to do the same. You feel their arms around you and feel pure joy and love for just a moment. Once the two of them go back to their positions by your side, Castiel pulls up a chair next to Sam. Worrisome thoughts fill your head again. “What’s going on? What happened?” You ask as tears stream down their faces causing you to cry from just feeling the sadness radiating off of them. “Please tell me what I did. What?”

“You--uh,” Dean starts to say as he looks at you with tears continuously falling down from his eyes. “How did you do that?” He says with an exasperated breath.

“What? What did I do?!” You question, shifting in the bed as you can’t help but be filled with concern. 

“The witch hexed you, Y/n,” Cas says. You notice the tears coming from him as well. 

“Wh--what did she hex me with? Wh--what?” You look in all the boys’ eyes as you become overwhelmed with the sight before you.

“She cursed you,” Sam pauses as he takes a breath and clears his throat, “She cursed you to feel everyone’s pain.” All of the boys look at you as if you should be dead. You realize that that is exactly what they must be thinking.

“How did you do that?” Dean asks again.

“Do what?” You ask in return. You take a deep breath and look down at your wrist to the wound. “What do you mean she cursed me to feel everyone’s pain?” You look back up to Sam in search of an answer.

“It’s what killed all those men,” Sam states.

“What do you mean?” You again ask.

“The witches,” Cas starts to explain, “They killed all those men by hexing them to feel the pain of those around them. They all died because of suicide or because of a fatal panic attack. Y/n, you got put under the same spell.”

“If--if I did,” you start to say, “Then how am I alive?” You look at the boy’s lost expressions on their faces.

“The spell wore off after twenty-four hours but, Y/n,” Cas says, concerned, “You are the only person who has ever survived it. You are the only one who has ever lived through it and made it out alive.” You think for a moment about what he just said. It made sense. All the thoughts that you were feeling weren’t just your own.

“You felt all of our pain,” Sam says.

“How did you do that?” Dean asks. You look in their eyes, realizing that even they couldn’t take their own pain most of the time. 

“You took all of our pain and felt it for yourself, Y/n,” Cas says.

“How did you do that?” Dean again asks. You laugh and smile a little.

“That’s the fourth time you’ve asked that Dean,” you say with a smile. He just looks at you in awe. “The truth is, today just felt like a really bad day. I have dealt with that pain, my pain, all my life.”

“But--but that was our pain too,” Sam says. “You felt all of our pain. You felt hell? Lucifer?” Sam asks and you nod. “And that isn’t bad to you?!”

“I always thought that my problems were nothing compared to yours, all of yours. You’ve all been through so much that I’ve always hid my problems. Today, it just felt as if those problems and feelings broke out.” You wipe the tears away from your face and muster up another smile.

“You deal with pain like that every day?” Dean asks.

“Basically.”

“Why haven’t you told us?” Castiel asks.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?” Sam questions.

“Because it’s my burdens, my pain, not yours. And I figured that I had already wasted my chances in asking for help,” you answer. “You all have done so much, been through so much, I have been through nothing. I am nothing. I am worthless even when being compared to your shadow.”

“Are you kidding me?!” Dean shouts. “Y/n, do you not realize that you have taken on all of our burdens, all of our fears, our pain, our emotions? You did all of that and are still here! You are the strongest person in the world! You are not worthless. You are amazing. You are beautiful and special and incredible!”

“You should never compare yourself to us,” Sam says.

“You can’t ever compare your problems to our pain,” Cas states. “There is no scale in the universe that can measure who has it worse or who has it better. Every single person has different pain tolerances, different perspectives. For you to be dealing with all of our collective pain and still think of it as a bad day, that is what I mean when I say pain is immeasurable.”

“Y/n, why on earth would you not tell us about what you’ve been dealing with?” Sam asks. You look at him and smile.

“I’ve wanted to,” you say. “I’ve wanted to for so long but I’m terrified.” You take a deep breath and wipe the tears from your face. Dean reaches up and takes your hand in his.

“Why?” Dean asks. “Why would you be afraid to tell us anything like that?”

“Because I can’t know if you’re real! I can’t know if you are just gonna be another person who says that they’re gonna be there for me then just disappear! I can’t go through that again. I’ve had my trust broken, shattered countless times that if I put myself through that again, I don’t know if I could take it.” Your voice starts to waiver as you begin to sob again. Sam scoots his chair closer to you as he wraps his arms around you. You lean your head on his shoulder as you feel Dean squeeze your hand tighter just as Sam hugs you tighter.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Sam whispers in your ear. “It’s okay.”

“But I don't want to be a burden,” you state as you close your eyes as more tears fall onto Sam’s shoulder.

“You’re not a burden,” Castiel states. “I saw and felt your feelings, Y/n. You should never feel that way about yourself.” He reaches for your other hand and grabs it in his.

You remain in the clutches of all three of them. You are with your heroes. Dean has your hand, holding it in the both of his. Castiel holds your other hand, squeezing it in the most compassionate way possible. Sam keeps you in his arms as you place all of your weight onto him and continue to bury your head into his shoulder.

“You are not worthless,” Cas says. “You are not nothing. You are not stupid. You are not idiotic. You are not self-centered.”

“You are the furthest thing from it,” Dean adds. “You are amazing. You are incredible. You are worth so much. You are worth everything.”

“You are worth saving,” Sam says. “I don’t know what I would do if you died, Y/n. You are the person who makes me happy. You make all of us happy. You can always ask for help.” Sam releases you from his hug so he can look at you. You open your eyes and see the people who keep you going. The people who inspire you to be strong, stay strong. These people are your world. They are your everything and for them to say that you are theirs, that is the best compliment that you could ever get.

“Never, ever think anything but the truth about yourself,” Dean orders.

“But the truth is,” you say, “I don’t know if I can believe you all. I have been told by so many people who I love and look up to that I am stupid, manipulative, that I am nothing. Those thoughts and feelings of self depreciation are carved into my heart. Wired into my mainframe. Every time I try to be happy, every time I try to let go, I get a setback. I fall down.”

“Y/n, those people that you say thought bad of you,” Castiel starts to say, “They didn’t love you. They don’t deserve your love. They don’t deserve any part of you.”

“It doesn’t matter what they say or what you did or who you did it to,” Dean says, “Here, right now, it is us and it is you. And I promise that we love you. We love you so much, Y/n. We love you with your burdens and all.”

“And I promise,” Sam states, “That no matter how many setbacks you have, no matter how many times you feel depressed or down, I will always be there for you. We will all be there for you.”

“If you want a shoulder to cry on,” Dean says, “I’ve got two.”

“If you need someone to listen,” Castiel explains, “I have till the end of time to listen.” You start to sniffle and smile.

“That’s our girl,” Dean says as he brushes the hair away from your face.

“And if you ever need someone to talk to,” Sam smiles, “There is nothing that I would rather do than to be here for you.”

“Hey! That rhymed,” you state with a smile and a giggle.

“Yes, yes it did,” Sam says with a laugh.

You look at your heroes. You look at your friends. You look at your family. You have countless reasons to be sad. You have such a big vocabulary of harsh words that you have been called and could call yourself but the truth is, none of them are true. You can believe that you deserved it then but under no circumstances can you believe that you deserve anything less than the absolute best now. 

“You are beautiful, Y/n.”

“You are magnificent.”

“You are giving and ask for nothing in return.”

“You are the one who saved me.”

“You are the one who shows me kindness when I need it most.”

“You are the one person who always makes me feel better.”

“You are selfless.”

“You make me laugh.”

“You are a hero.”

“You are extraordinary.”

“You are the best.”

“You always make me smile.”

“You make me feel good about myself.”

“You are the representation of good in the world.”

You are gorgeous. You are amazing. You are wonderful. You! All you! You are worth it! You are truly spectacular! You are incredible! You are perfect just as you are! You deserve to be happy! You deserve to be loved! You deserve to live the life you want! You deserve so much because you have been through so much! You deserve to get double the amount of love that you share! You deserve a crown! You deserve gold! You are too good for this world! You are a spectacle! 

You are loved.

You feel overwhelmed with joy, real, true, joy as Sam leans forward to give you a hug. Dean leans to your side and wraps his arms around you. Castiel comes from behind you and squeezes you tightly in your clutches. You were the most loved and appreciated person with three amazing people all pouring their love into you. It is exactly what you deserved and so much more.

You were going to have setbacks. You were going to have bad days. You were going to feel broken, lost. You were going to feel down. But I promise you, they are real. The people who love you are real. There are so many. Your affect on the world may seem miniscule to you but it's not. You can save the world. You make it better everyday. You may save the people who save the world. You matter. You help the world turn. Even when you have bad days, you will always have someone who will want to be there right with you. They will want to suffer with you. They would do anything for you. Never give up.

You must know: you are loved, you are not alone, you are worth it, and you must always keep fighting.

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Thank you for reading! Never doubt yourself or think you don’t deserve love! You do! You deserve so much! And more!