#a staple to any sad playlist

[rissynicole]

🎧 <3

Okay, so I decided to do this by going to my “liked” songs on Spotify, which has turned into a repository of every single song I’ve ever added to every playlist I’ve made since 2014. So this thing is massive and is made up of tons of songs I’ve liked over the years.

When I pressed shuffle, I got this version of My Immortal that’s even sadder than the original, somehow

Favorite lines:

“These wounds won’t seem to heal,

This pain is just too real,

There’s just too much that time cannot erase”

[blueparadis]

꒰ WHEN WE COLLIDED ꒱ ⋮ RAN HITANI.

───❪ SYNOPSIS ❫ ⋮ A decision always changes the course of one's life but mainly it affects just one person, the one who takes the decision. However, an accident doesn't, it affects more than one person. Ran seems to believe he can have both in his favor if he plays his cards at the right time.

───❪ TAGS ❫ ⋮ MDNI, 18+ & M RATING.

(sub!)ran haitani x (switch!)fem!reader, one sided pinning, manipulation, death via accident ( MCD ), fruity!ran agenda, yandere themes, mention of implied cheating, domestic violence ( not by ran ), bad marriage,slow burn, eventual smut.

───❪ PLAYLIST ❫ ⋮ stay by stephan, too close by sir chloe, million dollar man by lana del rey, i am the dog by sir chloe, me and my husband by mitski, movement by hozier, don't you know by james young, do i wanna know by arctic monkeys, sex with a ghost by teddy hyde, stuck on a puzzle alex turner, cherry waves by deftones, the witch by Rosenfeld & khemis.

part one.

summary: The monotony in the life of Ran Haitani has a flicker of excitement. It turns up for a second and then goes out. But, for a hungry animal to denounce the prey, even if it is a slice is nothing but a mockery of the ways of nature. word count —2,5k.

part two.

summary: Ran starts to gather pieces of his puzzle even barely has any piece of it, he could see a glimpse of the final picture. He has never been taught not to play with his food when he was a child and he never did unless the food feels stale and tasteless on his tongue. word count — 2,6k.

part three.

summary: Ran's heart starts to unwind, starts to overlook all the possibilities of obstacles he might face to have you. With his heart in a bind, he starts to seek ways to connect, ways to have you, see you, taste you, feel you. word count — 1,6k.

part four.

summary: There is a jinx that Ran heard when he was eight years old, from his nanny. "You lose the people with whom you share your handkerchief." Now, he is not much of a superstitious person but when he saw his favorite handkerchief in the fist of his father who was intimately clung by his mother in the newspaper picture, he started to believe; he started to experiment word count —1,1k.

part five.

summary: It has been almost half of another month since his last encounter with you. Ran has thought of his second encounter with you way too many times that it lies heavy on his eyelids, on his fingertips, creating goosebumps on his skin. It tingles his soul. He replays that particular memory in a loop until he gets drunk on it, until he gets what he is promised. word count —0.7k.

part six.

summary ~ to be updated soon.

───❪ NOTES❫ ⋮ read on ao3.

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dividers by @benkeibear. banner art by me. for better quality you need to view the image seperately.

This is for my beloved dawnie. @lalunanymph . ( kindly check her rules if you wish to read her works. )

Dawn baby, I have read your works when I'm happy, when I'm sad, when I'm angry, and whenever I missed you. I have kept coming back to read your works, again and again, especially during my exam season. And one day I reaslized that you and your writing has become an integral part of my Tumblr. Not only that, it has also shaped my writing and reading experience. Needless to say dawnie baby that I admire you a lot. So, this is a little gift from me to you for creating such a brilliantly bright trajectory in my writing journey. Tokyo Revengers has always been my staple fandom. Even being a multifandom blog it is the tokyo revengers’ masterlists which is most stacked. At first I thought I should write on Kakucho for you but didn't feel confident about it so I went with Ran Haitani. This is probably the third long fic on him and second series work. I don't generally write on my favs because I don't know what to write and how to write. It is always a struggle but I hope this scratches the right parts of your brain. Take your time, read it in a one fine afternoon all of a sudden or somewhere in next million years. I'm not in rush :’))

Love you,

paradis.

[barrenclan]

I think Time Deer by Bent Knee fits Rainhaze

Any song that calls someone a dog is pretty good for Mr. Haze.

"Oh, nasty dog You are choking on a cog in my time machine Drag you along to the times from which you run So you can see what I see"

"I was string thin, barren and scrambling for food My people exiled, subhuman and crude <- hello. literally barrenclan They took my lover and library too War left me vagrant with nothing to lose"

Oh my God, thank you for blasting me back in time with this. I watched the Flowey animatic with this song about a million times when I was deep in my Undertale phase. Also, yes, Rainhaze as hell, I could literally put every lyric here and they'd fit for him.

"They're-they're these terrors And it's like, it feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat and squeezing and It's like as if somebody was gripping my throat"

"Don't you breathe for me Undeserving of your sympathy 'Cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did"

"A drink for the horror that I'm in For the good guys and the bad guys For the monsters that I've been Three cheers for tyranny Unapologetic apathy 'Cause there ain't no way that I'm coming back again"

"Sometimes I see flames And sometimes I see people that I love dying"

"And through it all How could you cry for me? 'Cause I don't feel bad about it So shut your eyes Kiss me goodbye And sleep"

It's definitely softer than I think of music for them, but those lyrics are pretty good. It's almost making me think more of Rainhaze talking to Slugpelt!

"Hey Bunny What if I lose you too If I become the monster Together we can always be blue"

"Hey Bunny Is that your name again It's making me laugh 'cause we used to be friends Hey bunny Am I talking in the mirror I only see myself as what we were"

I don't think so! I like it.

"I hate my work But I'm in control I'm fearless now But it cost my soul"

"It's alright to scream I'm screaming too Why'd you think I do the things I do? For shadows haunted me like ghosts So I became what I feared the most" <- Aw yeah

Okay real about the energy level, I feel that so hard. It would make a cool PMV though!

"He could never stand up 'Til he had to run Finger on the trigger Of an empty gun" <- Verse 1

"Well, she was on an upswing In the spring of life Dancing on a tight rope 'Til he brought the knife" <- Verse 2

I mean, if this whole post doesn't prove that Rainhaze is fantastic to staple music to his forehead, this should.

What a pretty song! Yes, definitely a great song for the overall story.

"I hear it calling/Deep down in my dreams/The wind is blowing/Something lost in me"

"There's nothing else to do/There's nowhere else to go/There's nothing else to live for, anymore"

It's on the playlist, in fact!

Oh I know this song! I used it in a speedpaint once. Ah, a particular context makes it very sad for me with Rainhaze.

"Save yourself I am far beyond repair They will bury me alive But I'm not inclined to care I am too far gone now, oh ohoho"

"Forget the man I used to be You'll move along more easily"

Silly, trying to slip another FNAF fansong past me. It can definitely work for Rainhaze, even if I can't listen to the whispering (I don't like ASMR).

[teddybeartoji]

MICKEYYYYYYY WDYMMMMMMMMMMM SUGU SELFSHIP??????? MISU???????????? 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I CRIED . IT’S SO CUTW I NEED TO MARRY YOU BOTH!!!!!! holding both your hands so very gently………….

cracks knuckles . anyway i have some questions 😇 how does suguru show you that he loves you? (through words or otherwise?) and how do you show him that you love him?? :3 do you have any pets? any regular date spots???

ALSO . which of his clothes do you like to steal most……. i know you steal them it’s okay we all do. it’s a sugu selfship staple . he’ll just have to deal with it bc he loves us <33333

ARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII:333333333333333333333 EEEEHEHHEHEHEE THIS IS SOOO FUCKING EXCITINGGGG MISU IS FINALLY HEREE!!!! i am already letting you know that this uhh.. will be long lmao get something to drink get something to eat and enjooyy:333

okok so first things first!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! like i already spilled to you in dms - this is a little college roomie au okay. just a little 20something mickey and just a little 20something suguru suffering from sleepless nights together<33333 i am one hundred percent going with the literature major suguru bc oh my god that feels just so so fucking right. he also has a part-time job at a little bookstore/cafe place!!!! i often hang out there too just bc it's such a cozy little spot,, there isn't too many people and he gets to put on his own playlist!!!!

i think (saying this abt my own alleged relationship btw) we're not actually a couple yet yk?? there's just a lot going on overall aaand so we just do what feels comfortable. we're very very close!!!!!!!!!! liike i often sleep in his bed bc i sleep better when i do it with someone/ around someone. and this btw makes me feel kinda bad bc he still can't sleep.. i like to think that he might catch just a few more zzz's with me there but ahhh.. he tells me that he does too but he really isn't the best liar.

oh my sad little meow meow:((((( this is literally him but yk add a few years

ok anyway so yesterday when i was thinking about what exactly misu is the miguel series popped into my head. it's called rigor mortis and it's done by the lovely @/loganlermanstanaccount!!! i'm not basing misu off of that i genuinely think they're kind of two sides of the same coin if that makes sense. to put it shortly the series is abt a reader who is going through a very hard breakup and miguel who is dealing with grief. they're both clearly going through things but that's kind of what makes them bond and that's what connects them. i know your tbr is long too and you have stuff to do so i'll just pluck out a snippet for you because the writing is just fucking incredible. i was literally up every wednesday to read the new parts lmao this series was also one of the things that inspired me the most

this is a snippet from the third part - they were here, she says (sorry i had to take screenshots bc tumblr quite literally just didn't allow me to type it all out smhh)

this is just really reminds me of suguru. sorry this really is a lot lmao imagine asking abt a selfship and getting a novel back about something different pls this is the loserville way okay. but yeah i just think it goes really well with my little roomie suguru (and me i guess). different types of grief but somehow it's all the same.

AAANYWAYY NOW TO YOUR ACTUAL QUESTIONS😭😭😭 a romantic relation ship or not.. suguru let's me know he cares through acts of service!!!!!! like grocery shopping and just getting me a little treat every time he goes out yk? i mean overall we both do the laundry together but he just gets to it faster than i do,, he takes care of my clothes and his without a second thought. he really is a malewife through and through damn...

and i show my appreciation by being a little clingy. HEARRR ME OUTTTTTTT LISTEN LISTEN LISTENNNNNNN though he likes to act all tough and shit (smhhh) we all know he likes the attention. and he's so used to satoru being clingy too (btw oh my god mitoru as best friends<333333333333) so when i kind of follow him around too, he feels more like at home yk? it's not necessarily even physical touch, at least not at first but just that i keep sitting in the same room with him. kind of like parallel play. i think he really likes the company even if it's just the two of us sitting in silence. liiike he's having a smoke by the window in his room while i'm idk scrolling on tumblr on his bed and it just feels very comfortable.

another love language of ours is listening to music together. i think while yes i listen to a lot of pop too, our tastes are very similar. so taking the public transport while standing side by side while sharing earbuds is very typical for us<333

WAIT ALSOOOOO i am always always always here for turtleneck suguru but.. i think in my head..... this!!!!!!!!!! like eeeespecially the blue jacket one ohhhhh this piece of art has changeeed mee i literally cannot stop thinking about it i really really love the idea of this mm like streetwear type of suguru??? is that what you'd call it idk i'm bad with labels but yeah this is misu's suguru<333333 ari i love him sm he's so boyfriend i mean roomie. oh god wait i have more to say,, his style is soooo so versatile though!!!!!!!! bc while overall i kinda imagine him wearing hoodies (i am. biased), he still does really like turtlenecks. and he has his fair share of long coats. ahhhh he likes to switch it up a lot!!!!!!!!!!! HE'S SO STYLISH I'M SO JEALOUS HE LOOKS SO FUCKING GOOD NO MATTER WHAT HE WEARS THIS IS SO UNFAIRR!!!!!!!!

on the topic of clothes!!!!!!!!! i steal his hoodies>:3333333 constantly. i can't really wear sweaters so those are safe from me but oh... the second i spot a hoodie of his... mwahahaha it is mine now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY'RE SOOOO FUCKING COMFORTABLEEEEE WHAT THE FUCKKKK AND THEY SMELL SO FUCKING GOOOODDD LIKE I THINK I'M GENUINELY ADDICTED TO WEARING THEMM AAAAAA and yes just like in your little snippet.. he does kind of lose his mind when he seems me in one>:33333333333

SHRIMPMIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! REMEMBER HOW I TOLD U EARLIER THAT I LEAVE HIM OUT OF IT BC I JUST GET TOO SAD AT THE THOUGHT OF LEAVING HIM ALONE AT HOME?? BUT NOW ME AND SUGURU LIVE TOGETHER ANYWAY WHICH MEANS.. THAT I DON'T HAVE TO LEAVE HIM ALONE WHICH MEANS THAT SHRIMPIN IS CANON IN THE MISU UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAA this is so exciting. he loves suguru so much. and sugu finds it so funny when i try to act like that doesn't bother me😒😒😒 and every time i let the little beast gnaw on my hand (he is feral.) suguru scolds me and it's uhh kind of hot ngl like he comes over to make shrimp stop while grabbing my wrist and taking my hand away yeah i die a little every time i won't even lie

now... since....... i am on a roll (rip ari)............. i definitely fall faster btw. uhm like stupidly fast but i don't think anyone is surprised here..... but idk he's just a little bit scary in a way that i just simply could never make the first move...................................... he's literally just so handsome and so great i feel weak okay don't judge me (i know you understand) buuuuut i don't think he'd actually take too long to mmm grow fond of me either.. he is not as strong as he thinks he is.

i also need to talk about mitoru as best friend i just have to. mitoru is always meant to be no matter what universe okay we are Connected. he comes over SOOOOOOOOOOO OFTENNN he almost lives here too lmao we play video games together a lot<33333333 and suguru does get a little jealous<333333333333 he's so cute. satoru makes so much fun of him btw and i try to.. not think too much abt it or else my heart will explode.

OKAY WAHH I THINK NOW IS ENOUGH THOUGH. ENOUGH OF BLABBERING ON LMAO PLSS MISU JUST MAKES SO MUCH SENSE ACTUALLY I KIND OF DO FEEL BAD ABOUT NOT MAKING THIS INTO A THING SOONERR AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR INDULGING ME AS ALWAYS ARI!!!!! IT LITERALLY MEANS SOOO SO MUCH TO MEEE AND THANK YOU FOR READING THROUGH ALL THIS😭😭😭😭😭😭 I LOVE YOU SOOOSO MUCH I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING SUCH A LOVELY DAY PLEASE REMEMBER TO EAT AND DRINK WATER AND REST!!!!!!!!! PLEASE SMILE LOTS N LOTS N LOTS AND PLEASE REMEMBER THAT MISU LOVES YOU SOOOO SO SOOOOOO FUCKING BADD<3333333

[cursed-rat-of-homosexuality]

A good is-Tom-Normal-About-That-Media? meter is how I deal with music related to that specific media. Unfortunately in OFMD's case it's ticking in the "Brain Rotted Pile of Clown Meat" zone, because I basically went through every song ever made by Nina Simone just to try and guess which two songs are playing in s2.

So you know what??? I'm laying out my predictions here, if any of these starts playing then I'm owed a Jenkins thumbs up or something like that. Idk. I spent four hours of my life on this, I need a hug. I threw the dice and this is what came out.

> These three are my favorites, I have a feeling about them, they smell like OFMD to me and my brainwaves bounce up a bit when I hear them (u know... like the sea.... ha...ha)

Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood

Ed-Coded, sad, moody, it's frantic and helpless in a way that's also really desperate, and ohohoho the rhythm on this one tickles my brain a bit.

Feeling Good

A bit overplayed, basically in every fandom playlist but It! Is! There! For! A! Reason! And that reason is that it's reeeally good and very villain like. Could be Ed-Coded, I'd like to imagine that's him trying to conform into his Kraken/Blackbeard persona, could be other people too though. Use your imagination here.

Do What You Gotta Do

Are all of these Ed-Coded? You might ask. And the answer is, well.... maybe. It's not my fault Executive Producer David Jenkins based Ed's whole character on Nina Simone songs okay????? (I see what you did there you little evil man-shaped weasel. I SEE IT ALL.) But just.. here, look at me... listen to it and tell me it isn't Ed through and through.

> These ones are also very OFMD-like and I wouldn't be putting them in here after sifting through more than 100 songs just because. I also have a feeling about them, but it isn't the overwhelming sense of certain doom I get from the previous three.

Save Me

Ed coded. He loves Stede and he hates that with every fiber of his being. He's still very hurt, but cannot help being fond of the whimsical dipshit, poor guy.

I Shall Be Released

Ed coded, just give my man a break.

I Put A Spell On You

Overplayed one again, this one isn't really coded to any of them. But I feel like it would play after Stede tries to reconcile with Ed for the first time and fails miserably. Ed is still really hurt, and Stede is just realizing the extent to which he hurt him. It's after they just had a discussion, maybe it's raining, Stede is soaking wet calling "Yd! Yd! Yd please talk to me!" But Ed just keeps on walking. It's a romantic comedy staple and we need to have one of these.

Take Care Of Business

Semi-Competent!Stede being the breadwinner of the family is one of my favourite hcs. Ed is really tired of The Pirate Life™️ and I bet he'd fucking love to be a trophy wife, man spent his whole life being the scourge of the seven seas, give him a break for christs sake.

Mr.Bojangles

just... listen to it

Just Say I Love Him

Is- Is that a... no, it can't be! Dios mio, It's... a Stede coded song 😱😱 *pain sounds* *weird bone cracking going on* *little bit of a fleshy sonority to it now* *crashing sounds* *cat meowing* *bone cracking again but this one is good I think*. Ok back to it, this is really just "I should just have told him how I feel" vibes, Stede made a mess, he regrets it. Etc.

That's it then. Did I do this just to prove I was right if any of them appears in S2? Pfft of course not! Who would even do that... lol... Also please feel free to add thinky thoughts to this if y'all are willing! I'd love to hear people's interpretations of the songs.

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

ch. 5: A Safe Place to Land - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 4.6k words. After an unexpected breakup with her long-term boyfriend, y/n had one goal: to keep her head down and finish her travel nursing contract as soon as possible. That was until Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw derailed her plan entirely. Just as y/n finished picking up the pieces of her broken heart, Rooster came along and showed y/n what it’s like to be loved again–if only she’ll let him in.

chapter playlist: “Never Til Now” by Ashley Cooke and Brett Young, “You Matter to Me” from Waitress

Warnings: nothing crazy! lots of fluff, several pinches of angst, some cursing. multiple allusions to 18+ content & smut, but nothing graphic. i’m too much of a wimp to write smut but one day i’ll get there

a/n: hello hello! this chapter was a long time coming, but i’m so happy with how it turned out. i hope you guys like it!! thank u for ur patience & support xx

series master list | master list

The phrase “distance makes the heart grow fonder” is nice in theory. It’s a mantra y/n repeated to herself several times over the years when she missed her family and friends while traveling. She now found out that this mantra didn’t work as well when her not-boyfriend was somewhere on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean. 

In Rooster’s absence, y/n returned to her hermit ways. On her days off from work, she’d spend countless hours reading, binge-watching shows, online shopping, and her favorite activity of all: napping. She ventured to the beach a few times but found that it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable without Bradley by her side. y/n reminisced about Rooster spinning her around until they both got dizzy or dunking her in the water, just for her to pull him in after her until they were both soaked and sore from laughing.

Over the course of the three-week mission, y/n wore Rooster’s clothes more than she wore her own. The hoodie she stole was a staple of her nightly Netflix sessions and she often fell asleep in the shirts Bradley ‘accidentally’ left at her house.

The only thing that could tempt y/n off the couch in the evenings were the sporadic calls she shared with Bradley. She jumped every time her phone rang, leaping over the coffee table and sprinting towards the counter her phone was on, only to be disappointed when it wasn’t Bradley. The few times that he was on the other end of the phone talking to her made her forget all her woes.

There were a couple times y/n missed Rooster’s calls because she was at work. Aside from the sad sinking feeling inside, she felt like shit. Bradley always made sure to leave a voicemail. Though he did miss hearing her voice, he was never bitter when y/n missed his calls; she had a job to do, just like him.

y/n was comforted by the way her bed sheets still smelled like Rooster. Old spice and jet fuel and safety. She desperately clung to the remnants of Bradley’s lingering presence in her home. The night she felt the most alone was the same night her sheets stopped smelling like him. Despite her desire to hang on to any trace of Rooster, she was overdue to wash her bedding. She laid awake that night, tossing and turning in her fresh clean sheets. Had her bed always been this cold?

Instead of being lulled to sleep as she inhaled the comforting aroma as she’d done for the past two weeks, y/n found herself turning to Bradley’s voice for comfort. She had three months' worth of random voicemails he’d left her. 

His morning voice drifted from the speakers–the voicemail in question was delivered before 6 a.m. a little over a month ago. Rooster wanted to call to say good morning before a god-awfully early training session, but y/n was still fast asleep.

“Hey, baby. Just wanted to say good morning. It’s…” Rooster paused to look at the clock on his dash. “5:29 a.m. So you’re probably still asleep. Which is a good thing, because this is way too fucking early to be up and moving,” he cleared some of the morning grog from his throat. “Anyway… I’ll talk to you later. Have a good day, darlin’.”

y/n smiled warmly as his words rolled over her. She remembered how they spent the evening after his training. Bradley and y/n had planned to watch a movie or two at home, but they both fell asleep against each other on the couch by 8:30 p.m.

The next voicemail featured a very tipsy Rooster. y/n would dare to say drunk, but Rooster prided himself on not getting drunk because he was a self-proclaimed heavyweight. Lively chatter from The Hard Deck could be heard in the background. Bradley didn’t go out with his coworkers nearly as much as he did before he met y/n, so on the rare occasion that y/n worked night shifts, Bradley distracted himself from his loneliness by hanging around his old stomping ground.

“Hey! y/n! Oh, shit, you’re working,” Bradley pouted, suddenly remembering the reason he went to the bar in the first place. “I miss you. Pool isn’t nearly as fun without you,” he cut himself off with a chuckle then a heavy sigh. He wasn’t wasted, but he definitely wouldn’t remember this in the morning.

The rest of his words weren't quite intelligible. y/n suspected Bradley got roped into a game of darts or was handed another shot based on the groan he let out before the message ended.

The final voicemail y/n listened to before drifting off to sleep was from just a few days ago, directly from the aircraft carrier’s satellite phone.

“Hi, baby. It’s me.” y/n could tell from his voice alone that he was exhausted. The communications room on the ship was mostly quiet. Rooster all but sprinted there to be first in line to make a phone call home. There was a brief pause of silence before Bradley spoke again. “God, I miss you so much. I can’t wait to get back home to you… take care of yourself for me, okay?” Rooster sighed heavily.

At the end of the message, Rooster let out a deep exhale–like there was something else to say, but the words couldn’t quite escape his lips.

Bradley Bradshaw had been holding himself back from saying three little words since the day he was deployed. He almost told y/n he loved her right before he left her house the morning of his mission. In the peaceful quiet of the early morning darkness, Bradley realized he was irrevocably and unequivocally in love with y/n y/l/n.

He convinced himself that it would’ve been cruel to tell y/n he loved her for the first time just before he left for a mission. What if he didn’t come back? Not only would she be left grieving Rooster, but she’d also be stuck mourning everything that could’ve been. Bradley couldn’t bear to burden her with that.

So the words were left unsaid for the time being. Every time Rooster and y/n spoke on the phone, I love you was perched on the tip of his tongue. With each passing day, the words rattled around his brain and begged to be said out loud.

That all changed after a close call during one of the mission flights. Rooster toed the line between risky and deadly a little too haphazardly. He noticed the enemy missiles soaring towards him far later than he should’ve, but just in the knick of time to launch his own flares and avoid the fiery explosion. The aftermath of the missile attack sent Bradley into a mental tailspin.

Rooster concluded that dying without ever having told y/n he loved her simply wasn’t an option. A world in which y/n never knew just how much she meant to Bradley was unfathomable.

But she deserved better than being told I love you for the first time from a satellite phone with spotty reception. No, Rooster needed to be sure she heard every word he was saying. He needed her to see just how much he meant it; how his words were the absolute truth. He wanted–no, craved–to hold y/n in his arms and hold her gaze with his own when he finally confessed his feelings.

On the other side of the world y/n mindlessly scrolled through her email while one of Rooster’s vinyl records played softly in the background.

A few weeks ago, y/n got a record player for her house because Rooster stated that vinyl “just sounds better.” She rarely touched the record player; it was pretty much reserved for Rooster’s use exclusively whenever he was at her house. Of course, the compromise wasn’t one-sided. Rooster caved and bought a bluetooth speaker so y/n could play her seemingly countless playlists.

“Why listen to one album at a time when you could listen to a hundred different songs on shuffle?!” y/n argued enthusiastically. She was over the moon about Rooster’s latest purchase. The small speaker sitting on the kitchen counter had y/n pulling Bradley off the couch and into an uncoordinated dance.

“This is so stressful,” Rooster whined when there was an abrupt shift from Elton John’s “Tiny Dancer” to “You Outta Know” by Alanis Morissette. If it weren’t for y/n’s wide grin and bright eyes, Rooster might’ve second guessed the purchase.

In Bradley’s absence, the record player was the only thing she’d been listening to music on. In fact, she was listening to Rooster’s albums exclusively. Less than a day had passed after y/n bought and set up the record player when he brought over a box of vinyl records. y/n sat on Bradley’s lap on her living room floor, his arms wrapped around her waist, as she thumbed through the box. Her eyebrows knitted together when she saw that more than half of the box was full of his favorite records.

“Roos, these are your favorites,” y/n said, confusion in her tone as she pulled out a Jerry Lee Lewis album to prove her point. “Why are you leaving them here?” Bradley nestled his head further into her neck and pressed a gentle kiss against her pulse point.

“So you can develop taste,” he teased jokingly. y/n scoffed and lightly swatted his arm with her free hand. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned y/n around in his lap to face him. “I’m over here a lot anyways. We can listen to them together,” he suggested before pressing a sweet kiss against her lips.

y/n’s reminiscing was cut short when three new emails stopped her in her tracks. Her stomach dropped when she realized they were all new contract offers from the travel healthcare agencies she worked with. Each of the contracts she was sent were in one of her ‘bucket list’ cities. One in particular was a contract she’d been hoping for for years–it was a specialty trauma center job in Boston. The other two contracts nearly made her eyes bug out of her head; the salary was almost double what she was currently making at the base hospital.

Three months ago, signing any of the offered contracts would’ve been a no-brainer.

When y/n was with Ethan, she factored his deployments and where he’d be stationed into deciding what contracts she would accept. But she never held back or hesitated to sign a dream contract thousands of miles away, even if it meant they wouldn’t see each other for quite a while.

From the very first moment y/n arrived at the Navy base, she couldn’t wait to leave. She was desperate to erase any trace of Ethan from her life.

Now? Her chest tightened just thinking about how far away each of the jobs were.

y/n had a wanderlust soul for as long as she could remember. She was happiest when she was on the move, jumping from city to city, coast to coast. It could be a lonely lifestyle, but it was something of her own. Something she could control. 

y/n wasn’t averse to commitment; she had a wedding board on Pinterest up until three months ago. Staying in one place and setting down roots never seemed to interest her though.

Not until now.

Now, she had something to stick around for. y/n couldn’t remember the last time she felt like she had a true home. The Navy base wasn’t her home, not by a long shot, but Bradley Bradshaw sure as hell felt like one.

For the first time, she considered staying.

The thought of her contract ending soon had been eating y/n alive for the past few weeks. The realization that staying at North Island, staying with Rooster, was an option threw her for a loop. She’d been on the go for so long that she forgot what it felt like to settle down. After that revelation, all of y/n’s missing pieces seemed to fall into place. The relief she felt was unmatched by anything she’d ever felt before. The weight of the world and her heavy heart vanished, replaced by a feeling of wholeness. Unfortunately, it was short-lived; killed off by a dark thought creeping into her mind.

What if Rooster didn’t want her to stay?

After pulling into y/n’s driveway, Rooster shut the door of his bronco as quietly as he could. He fished the front door’s spare key from underneath a potted plant, unlocked the door, and shut it silently behind him. He found his quiet movements weren’t really necessary when he heard one of his ‘80s vinyl records playing loudly. The electric guitar riffs and heavy drum solos all but blocked out every other noise—save for y/n’s loud singing and the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen as she cooked dinner.

Rooster came to the end of the hall and leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, watching y/n dance around while she used a spatula as a microphone. She looked so happy and carefree; Bradley almost felt bad for interrupting her solo dance party. Almost, but not enough to stop himself.

When there’s a brief pause in between tracks, punctuated by crackling from the record player, Bradley cleared his throat. y/n shrieked and jumped, her eyes shooting wide open as she flung the spatula in her hand with the force of an Olympic javelin thrower toward the source of the noise. Rooster narrowly dodged the projectile metal utensil flying past his head.

Bradley turned to y/n with a surprised smirk, impressed by her aim. Once she registered that it was Rooster standing in her kitchen and not an intruder (she’d been watching a lot of Criminal Minds to pass the time), her jaw dropped and she stood frozen in place.

Bradley and y/n hadn’t spoken in several days. With the mission coming to its end, Rooster was busier than ever. When he wasn’t flying, in briefings, or going over flight plans and strategies until his brain turned to mush, he was savoring every spare moment he could get to scarf down a meal in mere minutes or sleep.

Bradley told y/n he’d be back in North Island on a Friday. That was true at the time. Just over a week into the mission, plans changed. The timeline was moved up, making the crew substantially busier, but it also meant they’d be back to the base on Thursday, a full day earlier. Rooster might have left out this development during the brief phone calls he shared with y/n.

When the shock wore off, y/n launched herself at Bradley, nearly knocking him backward in the process. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms were linked behind his neck, clinging to him like her life depended on it. If it were anyone else, Rooster might’ve protested the way y/n’s limbs constricted around him tighter than he thought possible, making his muscles ache and his lungs strain for air. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was y/n.

So, the aviator held her just as tight, burying his face into her hair and pressing gentle kisses throughout. Bradley hoped that the hug could tell y/n everything his words couldn’t.

y/n let up from squeezing Rooster to pull back and look at him. Her eyes dotted across his face in disbelief, like she wasn’t sure he was real. Her fingers traced across his sun-kissed cheeks, memorizing each new freckle, before ghosting her thumb over his bottom lip. The heavy beating of his heart against her chest and his calloused hands rubbing the bottoms of her thighs let her know he was really there. Bradley delivered a pinch to her ass with a smirk, further solidifying that she wasn’t dreaming.

She was still at a loss for words, so she did the next best thing. y/n kissed Bradley hard and deep, mustering as much of the three weeks’ worth of longing as she possibly could into a single kiss. She was quick to take charge as their tongues danced together, but Rooster soon gained dominance. He backed y/n up against a wall, his muscled thigh holding her weight as one hand tangled in her hair and the other explored the curves he’d missed so dearly. 

Their lips stayed locked until they damn near turned blue. Both of their eyes were wild as they pulled apart. Few words were exchanged before they began stumbling towards y/n’s bedroom, only making it halfway before they collapsed onto the couch.

The dinner on the stove was long forgotten.

Bradley laid in a daze on the couch, chest rising and falling as y/n grabbed water from the kitchen for them. He propped himself up on his elbows just in time to see y/n sauntering back in wearing his old Navy t-shirt with a glass in each hand. He licked his lips as he took in her appearance. Her hair was a mess, thanks to him, yet it still framed her face in breathtaking trusses. Her swollen red lips were almost as gorgeous as the mischievous grin she wore, her eyes glimmering as she took Bradley in.

He sat back in awe, his lips parted in the dopey grin y/n occasionally teased him for. This is it, he thought. Rooster hadn’t had a serious girlfriend since his days at UVA, and even then they were few and far between. Technically, he and y/n weren’t dating, but he was ready to spend the rest of forever with her.

Once Bradley’s haze wore away, he remembered one of the many things he’d been planning to ask y/n once he got back. His fingers brushed against hers as she handed him the glass of water before she curled into the other end of the couch with her feet resting in Bradley’s lap.

“So… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Bradley began while he gently massaged her calves. “The Navy ball is in three weeks. I honestly don’t like going to these events, but I’m in the running to win an award so I have to at least show my face. I was wondering… if you’d like to go with me? As my date?” he asked hesitantly. Rooster hoped y/n didn’t catch the way he nervously gulped in between sentences.

y/n looked like a deer caught in headlights. She was hoping to delay this conversation for another day at least. She just wanted one night to exist in their happy little bubble. But reality was bound to set in, whether she liked it or not.

Maybe this is when the other shoe drops, y/n thought. Things had been so good, maybe even too good, for the past few months. All good things come to an end, and she feared this was it.

So, she sucked in a breath and put on a brave face. She’d gotten pretty skilled at masking her emotions over the years, but Bradley saw right through her. He was always able to, right from the beginning.

“Roos, I would love to, it’s just um… my contract, it uh- it ends in a week,” y/n finished meekly, rushing the words out. It got really quiet then.

More emotions than y/n could count flashed across Rooster’s face before he finally sat up straight to look at her, his eyes never wavering from her face. His heartbroken look had her regretting every second she didn’t let him know she’d be leaving soon.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bradley asked, his voice quiet. y/n couldn’t meet his eyes. She looked down at her hands twisted in her lap and willed the water rimming her eyes to go away. When her tears started to fall, Bradley moved down the couch and held her face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumbs.

y/n sniffled and met his eyes, placing her hand over his against her cheek.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me while you were away,” she smiled sadly. “I didn’t want to distract you, and I didn’t want to mess up what we have going here. I don’t want to mess up what we have,” y/n emphasized at the end, holding Bradley’s gaze and making sure he heard her. She was bound to cry harder if she stayed on the same train of thought, so she switched to the facts.

She told Bradley about her contract, its duration and her official end date. She told him what her options were going forward and about the three new contracts she’d already been offered. Rooster heard what she said, but it wasn’t all processing. He was lost in his head and maybe caught every three words. y/n took a deep breath before she spoke again.

“I was thinking about-“

“Stay.” Bradley blurted out, eyes wide once he realized what he said out loud.

“-staying,” y/n finished with a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He took the words right out of her mouth.

Bradley, whose mind was still running a mile a minute, hadn’t processed y/n’s admission yet and dove into an on-the-fly plan to talk y/n into staying.

“You could find another contract around here! Or extend the one on base? You could take some time off. You could stay with me for a bit! Or I can help you with rent if you’re worried about that when you’re not working. Shit, that’s a lot, but the point is-” Bradley continued, bordering on manic, his hands waving around as he spoke mostly to himself.

y/n shushed him and cupped his face in her palms, just like he had moments ago.

“Bradley, did you hear me?” y/n asks slowly, enunciating every word. Rooster huffs.

“Unfortunately, yes. Your contract is almost over and you’re leaving,” he left out the “me” at the end, but there was an unspoken understanding that it belonged there. The typically confident and bright-eyed aviator looked heartbroken and lost. y/n hated that she made him feel like that, even for a second.

“No, Brad. I mean yeah, my contract is almost up, but I’m thinking about staying. If you’ll tolerate me hanging around,” y/n said with a wink, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Are you serious?” Rooster’s face is void of emotion, just wide eyes and a slack jaw as he waited for her answer.

“Yeah, if that’s oka-” before y/n could finish, Bradley jumped off the couch and scooped her up with him. He spun them around in a dizzying circle, pressing his lips against hers with a force that almost rivaled their earlier kiss in the kitchen.

y/n laughed as Rooster peppered kisses across her face when he finally put her down, keeping his hands planted firmly on her hips even after he was sure she had a stable footing.

“That’s okay with you? If I stay?” y/n asked with a hesitant grin, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. She found none.

“That’s more than okay. That’s- that’s everything,” Bradley chuckled breathlessly, pulling y/n into him by her hips. With her face mere inches from his, he rested his forehead against hers. “Please don’t go,” he whispered, eyes shut as he held his breath.

“I think I can manage that,” y/n said with a cheeky smile. Bradley chuckled again; deep and full and happy. He pulled her against him and locked his lips with hers until his lungs ached.

The burning reminded him of his brush with death on the mission and all the things he would’ve never been able to say. When their lips finally pulled apart, Bradley held y/n at arm's length so he could look her in the eye.

“I love you,” Bradley stated like it was a fact. Because it was. y/n gasped, one hand gripping his arm tight as she took a step back in shock. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath, but his head was absolutely clear. Bradley recognized the shock and maybe even a hint of fear on y/n’s face and he understood. Hell, he was scared out of his mind when he first realized just how in love with y/n he was. He smiled and shook his head, tracing his fingers soothingly along her exposed skin. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just need you to know. I love you, y/n.”

Tears brimmed y/n’s eyes and her face cracked into a wide smile.

“Take me to bed, Bradshaw.”

Rooster and y/n’s legs were tangled together underneath her sheets as they came down from their respective highs, both deeply sated.

y/n was absolutely spent—it had been a rollercoaster of an evening. Her eyes were on the verge of fluttering shut, her hair was wildly spread across the pillow, and a thin layer of sweat covered most of her skin. Rooster was certain she’d never looked more beautiful. y/n would’ve scoffed at him if he said that out loud. Moonlight streamed through the open window blinds, highlighting y/n’s features. It also illuminated a hickey Bradley was sure she’d give him shit about later, but for now, he enjoyed the sight.

Bradley ran his fingers through y/n’s hair and kissed her temple before speaking softly.

“y/n, baby,” he cooed quietly to get her attention. In her tired state, y/n simply offered him a small hum and turned into his chest, giving him what remained of her attention.

“How would you feel about making things official?” Rooster asked as casually as he could, poorly veiling his anxiousness. y/n laughed breathlessly and entwined her fingers with his before rolling halfway on top of him. She reached up to caress his jaw with her free hand, finally opening her tired eyes to meet his.

Bradley was nervous. He was holding his breath; y/n knew this because his chest wasn’t moving anymore, she could only feel the steady thump thump of his heart beating against hers. Whether y/n knew it or not, she held Bradley’s heart in her hands. It was hers to break or have forever, and this was the deciding moment.

“I’d like that a lot,” y/n whispered, a sleepy smile spread across her face before she closed the gap between them.

“Good,” Rooster said gruffly against y/n’s lips before he flipped her over, pinning her beneath his body once again. y/n’s contagious laughter cut through the darkness as Bradley’s mustached lip traced down the side of her body.

Three months after the most fateful ER trip of his life, Rooster had never been so happy to have his arm sliced open and get stitches. He’d been on the run for most of his adult life; he forgot what it was like to have a home. For the first time in a long time, staying still didn’t terrify him. Bradley thanked his lucky stars that the woman wrapped in his arms decided to stick around and settle down with him.

After flying solo for so long, Bradley Bradshaw finally found a safe place to land.

a/n: AHHH?!? pls lmk what y'all think!! there's one final part for this series -- the ✨epilogue✨ i'm so excited about it omg. have a good day & stay safe luvs <33

[rizansauce]

Gays vs Neurodivergent Gays (Music Taste)

You can identify whether a person is a gay or a neurodivergent gay just by seeing their music taste. Matter of fact their top artist on spotify and how long they've listened to them.

Now why is it important to identify a gay or a neurodivergent gay? No reason. They're just the most contrasting group of minorities I've ever seen. (at times)

You can catch a regular gay person listening to whatever cunty music they have their radar on made by either a poc straight woman or any homosexual who happens to make music. There is no wiggle room for any other type of artist.

Regular-tegular gays are just living it up and having fun when they forget that their rights exist as much as the mosquito who keeps you up at night who will eventually get smacked when they turn on their playlist and start blasting 180 bpm club music in C major.

HOWEVER

Neurodivergent gays are on the farthest end of the spectrum that they've already fallen off into the void. No one can save them. Ever.

Neurodivergent gays are either in the absolute worst pain ever that you would use as oc lore where the whole fucking planet has gone extinct and they witnessed their only friend die in their hands and now they're left alone until eventually they die of starvation.

Or

They are in the happiest, silliest, goofiest mood and start playing vocaloid as that is their only medium of happiness. The scales will always differ though. Either its a 70/30 ratio of 5 year chronic depression to kaito last name unknown or a 99.995 percent sadness and that one kagamine len song where the only lyric is bananananananana for a good 30 seconds.

The silliness never wins :(

Neurodivergent gays will either listen to the holy trinity of laufey, beabadoobee and mitski or vocaloid that they spent the past few months compiling an accurate playlist of as its been their hyperfixation for the past few years that they forgot about cause another one popped up while they went down a rabbit hole of vocaloid music videos. Their favourite vocaloid is either hatsune miku or any other cryptonloid or an utau called Jim Stunner that was voiced by jimmy buffet that was released back in 1994.

Digging up obscure artists and things is a neurodivergent's favourite activity

Regular gays listen to clublike cunt music which even the straights could get into if they were trying to be an ally in pride month. These playlists would probably contain moldovan eurovision submissions, charli xcx, or old 2010's music that probably includes a little bit of katy perry here and there.

Neurodivergent gays typically have a longer time spent on spotify for obvious reasons aka stimming or just wallowing in their feelings that weigh as much as . They're probably the entire top 500 of any vocaloid producer with about 100,000 hours spent on listening to mitski

To end off this tangent,

Honorable Mentions:

Kikuo (oh my god kikuo is singlehandedly a LARGE portion of the pain, suffering and more section of the neurodivergent gay music taste)

Crypton (The company that made vocaloid and had more impact on the neurodivergent community as a whole than minecraft)

Chappell Roan (The ringleader for lesbians worldwide)

Lady Gaga (No words need to be said.)

Fiona Apple

Pheobe Bridgers

and

Mafumafu, Ado and Eve (Utaites aka cover artists that eventually became artists (not all of them do for the uninitiated) that I consider a staple in the neurodivergent gay music community)

In conclusion, or a TLDR, the gays have great music taste in cunt

and the neurodivergent gays will suffer with you or drop off some silly serotonin for your troubles

Thank you for your time ദ്ദി(ᵔᗜᵔ)

[hephaestn]

fancam tag

thank you @bobparkhurst for the tag! 🥰🩵 this is such a fun one! i went to town with these pls feel free to not read any of it fjdhgf

Rules: Pick 5 songs you think would be used for fancam videos if your OC was canon and tag 5 people.

Stay Awake by London Grammar

“i don’t have a skin like you do, to keep it all in like you do.” this would be the sad, maggie-centered edit of her relationship with rosie. soft black vignette as frame, the lyrics on screen. my poor girl goes through it

Too Sweet by Hozier

now, this isn’t on my fic playlist BUT it’s a staple currently in fancams/edits and maggie is all smiles, and sweetness so i’m pretty convinced she would eventually get her too sweet edit! and she’d be looking gorgeous in those slow-mo shots lbr

Birds Of A Feather by Billie Eilish

maggie and sammy NEED a fancam with this song!! it'd be filled with their constant teasing, sammy running around the farm (with juliet the chicken if possible), maggie always taking care of him (almost as a mother instead of older sister) brb off to sob

Green Eyes :: Siena by Nothing But Thieves

every time i listen to this song you know there's a fancam happening in my mind. it's the rosie/maggie song. it'd be a slow-paced edit, muted coloring, with the sweet moments that are to come between them in the story

First Light by Hozier

this is the song that gives the fic its title. it'd be a mix between the tense, sad moments both in land and in the air as well as more calm, warm moments. it'd be that one edit

tagging: @milkywayes @john-cleven @giazzurra @softspeirs @thesullengrrrl 💗🌷

[emanation-aura]

Weird questions for writers, 19 and 38!

This is a response to this post about questions for writers!

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

Wow, so uh. Maybe this is a common origin story for writers my age, but I started out on Wattpad? It must have been about 2014-15 or so when I began; I have vivid memories of hopping off a flight and impatiently waiting to be driven home after vacation so that I could use my iPad to type the next chapter to my fic there, haha.

I started writing Pokemon fic, specifically of the X&Y Pokemon anime. I dunno if people here know this, but there used to be a fic genre there called "Ash gets betrayed by his friends" that was super popular, and I wrote a version of that too— it was my first fic (I named it "Heartbroken") and I made so many poor and melodramatic choices with it, but also i look back on it fondly. Some of the stylistic choices there survive in my writing there. Apart from that fic, I also wrote stuff for Star Wars Rebels, Percy Jackson, and Ranger's Apprentice (so typical YA stuff).

Why I started... well that's kind of difficult to answer, because I honestly I don't know. But it may have to do with that spidey-writing sense I get sometimes when reading or engaging with fiction, the desire for a story out of what I know.

There were a couple of major "incidents" that spurred me on the path of the fic writer: one was reading this AoT fic (tw graphic self-harm) and this Maze Runner fic (tw grief, suicide, psychological torture). Ok maybe this sounds bad on the surface but I am legitimately convinced that reading these at a young age made my writing style what it is today: a bit purple-prose-ish, slow and contemplative, chock-full of emotion and introspection, always, somehow, sad or angsty. (and they end up touching on the topics mentioned above, although most of the ones that do I don't publish.)

As for closer to the present... well, I really hit the ground running when I started writing Genshin fic. It's pretty much the beginning of my "modern style" (or stuff that I can read back through without cringing), and I want to keep developing that: writing sadness and grief and pain is deeply cathartic to me, and outside of lore studies, those are what I will be focusing on in the future. (...currently staring at the inordinate number of angst WIPs I have.)

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

In all honesty, most of my fic is kind-of vent fic, just more verbose and coherent that what the name 'vent-fic' tends to evoke. I need to be in a really specific kind of mood to write angst/hurt/comfort (my staple), and for a long period of time, I was perpetually in that state, which made creating... not easier, maybe, but something else that spurred it on. I'm not like that now, but the emotional intensity needed to create and convey hasn't left me, either.

Putting it this way: i need to find or set myself into a Mood(tm) to find my creative juices. It's weird because I can and do write when I'm mentally fine, but sometimes the low mood makes things sharper and easier to convey. These days, I usually put on music to do this: not just any generic songs I like but specifically stuff I've curated from listening non-stop 1000s of times before I keep it on the "dopamine injection" playlist. Stuff like that speaks to me in ways that makes me feel probably far too much, and it puts me in the right (or wrong, I guess?) state of mind to pour emotion onto the page. Cause thats what it is for me: if I don't feel emotionally destroyed by what I'm writing then what even is the point?

In lighter terms: anybody is free to ask stuff in general, not just from the question list, in my askbox whenever. Please. I love talking about writing (why write when I can talk about writing)

[starrygalaxy04]

"Psycho" {MLQC Lucien x Reader}

Summary : After a bad breakup, you use singing as your coping mechanism. You just happened to be singing a little too loud, and Lucien comes in to check on you and even joins in. (Gavin is an OC, not the MLQC character)

(Song used in this fic is "Psycho" by Taylor Acorn)

(Characters except Reader are not mine, neither is the song!!!)

You just couldn't keep it together. The anger, the pain, it all was desperate to be set free. Gavin had cheated yet again, a serial cheater in the worst way. This was the last straw, and when you said you were done, he spat the harshest words at you. Called you every single insult in the book that every scorned and unwilling-to-take-accountability boyfriend would throw at his girl before she left.

So now you're back home, your heels cast aside as your Spotify blares from your TV. You know you have neighbors, but can't bring yourself to care as you blare your angry playlist, singing and screaming at the top of your lungs. Your ruined mascara has long dried, and your hair is a mess of tangles. You just keep singing, venting out all of those emotions you could never vent any way else.

A knock on the door breaks you out of your singing binge. Surely it was a neighbor who was about to fuss at you to turn the music down. You huff before opening the door, only to find a concerned Lucien standing behind it. His pale eyes are wistful with a hint of concern as he looks down at you.

"Are you alright? You're blaring your angry songs."

Out of everyone you knew, Lucien was the only one who knew just by the song what playlist you were listening to. He had become so accustomed to your music taste that a single song would tell him entirely how you felt. You don't reply, instead moving aside so he can come in.

He walks in, taking in the state of the living room as you shut the door. There's half eaten take out, which you planned on finishing before you began your singing binge. Your shoes rest in two entirely different places, and your jacket is slung over the back of the couch. The TV is still playing songs from a playlist simply titled "ANGY". Yes, something was definitely wrong.

Lucien looks back at you with furrowed brows as the song changes, your eyes glued to the lyrics scrolling on the screen. Its the staple song you picked out for that good-for-nothing man. Lucien looks at the lyrics then to you, waiting for the damn to break. You're silent til the chorus, and then you begin screaming all over again.

"So, let's play a game

Where I throw a little brick through your pretty little face You're easy on the eyes but you're easier to hate An angel's gonna fall if you come around If my name's still on your tongue, then I'll rip it out

Since I'm already the bad guy in your head, I'll hit you with my car and I'll leave you for dead And I'll always like the view from the high road but baby for you, I'll be your psycho I'll be your psycho

I'll be your psycho

I'll be your psycho"

Lucien seems to easily put two and two together, coaxing you into sitting down as you continue to sing, tears streaming down your face as you scream the chorus one last time. It seems to be cathartic for you, so he lets you. The lyrics don't even seem to phase him as he wraps a comforting arm around you.

He doesn't ask questions as the song ends. He doesn't have to. He simply hands you your takeout, making sure you finish eating before getting you a glass of water. He watches you, makes sure you drink it, before he turns down the volume of the music.

"I assume things went for the worst?" He looks almost sad, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

He had been partly your therapist throughout this entire relationship and had been the first one to suggest that if your ex was standing you up he wasn't the right fit. He hadn't pushed you on it, but you know part of him loves and hates to be proven right. He's proud of you for doing the right thing, but is also here to listen to you. Whether its depressed or sad rambling, or just screaming angry songs to get those emotions out.

"Want me to join in?"

His voice is soft, a smile on his lips. You wordlessly nod, changing the song to something he's more familiar with. You both sing along, albeit much more quietly, spending the night in the comfort of his arms. It would take a while for the wounds to heal, but with Lucien around it didn't seem so bad.

[obeetlebeetle]

9, 98, 99 unsure if any of those were picked

9 is answered! but let's hit the bottom of the list💗

98. Agnes - Glass Animals | I really don't remember listening to this one but I guess it is on a lot of my staple playlists. it's easily my favorite glass animals song, it's so fucking sad

And so it goes A choking rose back To be reborn I wanna hold you like you're mine

99. Can I Leave Me Too? - The Greeting Committee | this song was huge for me last year (year of big loss) and has stuck around bc i really like it, so im linking a live version to take the sting out of the lyrics.

I'll change my ways for a few days if it means you'll stay I'm filthy, creepy, clingy for you always

[kaleidoscopexsighs]

ten seven fav songs

thank you @behaveddestroyerrating for the tag 💘

this is a blend of all-timers and current faves in heavy rotation, because context is everything and i’m an ephemeral moody b with selective commitment issues!

gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

my favorite RUMOURS track changes with the weather, but i have a tattoo of a specific photo of stevie nicks performing this song from a 1977 tour stop so it's got a special piece of my soul.

living room — tegan and sara

my best friends and i used to get drunk at the grimiest dive in our rural college town, repeatedly play this song on the jukebox and dance around (and sometimes on top of) the bar while falling in love and shouting the lyrics in each others’ faces. remains a staple of long drives through cornfields to this day.

chicago (demo version) - sufjan stevens

the original/final version of this song is of course lush and sweeping and iconic in its own right — but the demo will always echo the true spirit of the city to me. it’s rougher, stretched thin; simultaneously tense and tenacious, a bit anxiety-inducing but driven by hope. it scraps its way through to the end of another day and makes my little chicagoan heart swell with pride.

ghost in the machine (ft. phoebe bridgers) - SZA

a repeat play on my “sad but hot” playlist.

down in mexico — the coasters

love a song with some dirtynasty brass, love to slink around the living room and kitchen with this playing at full volume so my upstairs neighbors think i'm running an illicit honky tonk out of my apartment.

teenage wildlife — david bowie

criminally underrated bowie tune, imo! something about it just perfectly encapsulates the joy and anxiety of getting older and constantly relearning that things can and often will change on a dime. just Really Chill Thoughts, y'know

killshot (slowed + reverb) — magdalena bay

this song fucks. the end!

tagging @heavyinmyarms (any other mutual that hasn’t done this yet because i love getting song recs!)

[sonicfrontiers]

man sonic’s theme songs make me so stupidly happy. it really sucks that we haven’t gotten any since colors

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call

OK so here we are with the penultimate part! BIG MASSIVE THANK YOU to the absolute loves of my life @pucksnsticksnhockeyboys​ and @fratboytj​ for helping me write this because I am a dumpster fire of a human and this would still be unfinished had it not been for them 💛💛💛

Hope you like it!

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

---------

“This right here is our issue!” 

“I don’t care. You need to leave.”

---------------

You and Evelina were leaving for Los Angeles the next day, the presentation not quite done yet as your boss bombarded both of you with texts asking for updates while you were just trying to relax at home after what had been a stressful week of work. The two of you had turned into gremlins as soon as you came home, hair tied back, sweatshirts on, hoods up, facing each other while sitting cross-legged on your living room floor, typing faster than you probably needed to every time your boss sent a new suggestion. 

“Does he really think adding in a transition between these two slides is going to do anything? Like, there are no other animations in the entire presentation, why these two slides?” you huff, pushing the fly-away hair out of your face as you look to Evelina, hunched over her laptop with her computer screen illuminating her face.

Your phones continue buzzing as you try to put the finishing touches on your laptops. “Whatever this man is smoking, I need some to deal with him,” Evelina mutters. You look up from your computer, questioning the statement that just came out of her mouth. “What?” she asks, “Don’t act like you wouldn’t, too.”

“I’m texting him and telling him we’re going to stop for the night and talk with him in person about it tomorrow at the airport and on plane,” you tell her, setting your computer down next to you. You lay down on the floor, stretching your body out with your hands over your head, your toes pointed, groaning so loud you practically scream as your phone lays silently next to you. 

“Have you heard from Matthew?” Evelina asks, breaking the silence that was normally broken by texts from him. 

You shake your head, sitting up again. “Not a word.”

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

You take in a deep breath, closing your eyes as you pick up your laptop again. “Nope. Nothing posted on our stories on Instagram or Snapchat in a week, no texts, no calls, no Facetimes, our streak gone on Snap. We’re both radio silent,” you start, trying to fight back the tears that you knew were coming. This was for the best, maybe. You didn’t need to be preoccupied with the idea of liking someone that was just going to hurt you. He was only meant to be your friend. Your best friend. 

“I’m sorry, babe,” she says, turning her head. A small piece of paper under your couch catches her eye, stretching to see what it was. “What is this? ‘For Ev and Hg’ Who’s Hg?”

“I think that’s me,” you say, reaching for the card, Matthew’s messy writing scrawled across the small paper. It must have fallen off the box that had the jerseys in it, you figure. 

“That’s not right,” she says, pulling a laugh from you.

“Matthew calls me that: Hg is the chemical symbol for mercury, coming from hydrargyrum, the Latinized form of the Greek word hydrargyros, which means water-silver. Mercury stops oxygen from reaching the brain and it drives you crazy. He’s saying that I drive him crazy,” you explain, a sad smile on your face as you play with the card, curling the corners of it slightly just so you had something to do.

“That is surprisingly smart and cute for him,” Evelina gushes, a sudden wave of sadness washing over her. “I think this is my fault,” she admits.

“What?”

“Matthew not talking to you. Matthew knowing about the list.” You stare at her, not sure what to say. What was she talking about? “I told him about it the night you started it.”

“What the fuck?” you scream, “That’s the reason we had this whole fight in the first place. That’s why we aren’t talking right now. Ev, you ruined my friendship with Matthew!” 

“You’ll get through it,” she tries to reassure you, unable to look at you. “Couples fight all the time.” 

“We were not a couple!” you yell, standing up. “And now, because of you, we never will be.” 

“Is that what you wanted?” she yells back, getting up with you as if you were about to start physically fighting. “Do you want to be a couple? Or do you just want him to be your friend? I don’t care anymore, but until you figure out what the fuck you want, you can’t fix this.”

You look down at your feet, wiggling your toes in the socks you had on. “You’re right,” you admit to her, trying to stay as calm as you could. “But why did you have to tell him about that list? What do you think it’s like to find out that someone you care about has been keeping something like this from you?” You stand there quietly for a minute, neither of you sure what to say to the other. “I’m going to go to my room,” you say, finally breaking the silence, “Just, don’t bother me for a little bit, ok?” You don’t let her answer, picking up your computer from the floor and retreating to your room to lock yourself in for the time being. 

Evelina sits down on the floor, trying to figure out what she can do. This was her fault. Or was it yours? She had suggested the list, but you were the one who went along with it. She made the bet, but you wouldn’t drop it. She wanted you to be with Matthew, but you have been fighting it no matter what everyone else tells you. 

She shakes her head, picking up her computer, a reminder from her calendar coming up in the top corner: Flames @ Kings, 7:00 p.m. Friday. Staples Center. With all this bullshit, would you even still want to go to the game? Evelina pulls up her phone, hearing loud music coming from your room, thankful that you wouldn’t be able to hear her conversation. 

“I can see on her Spotify that she’s playing the playlist we entitled “depressed bitch” when she broke up with her last boyfriend and I can’t stand to see her like this. Why did you have to bring up the list?” Evelina barks into her phone.

“Why did you have to have Y/N start the list in the first place?” Matthew’s voice comes through on the other end. “With no list, then we wouldn’t be in this fucked up mess in the first place. You’re the reason I’m not talking to her.” 

She knew he was taking his anger out on her. And he’s right, as much as she hated to admit it. “I know it’s my fault,” she says, begrudgingly, “which is why I’m trying to fix this. She cried for five hours after you left last week. She did not sleep for two days and I think the only reason she did was because our boss is an exhausting jackass. It’s because of you and me, and she’s made her peace with me as far as I can tell. I need you back in the picture.”

“Why?”

“Matthew,” Evelina groans, hating that she had to explain her reasoning to him, “you’re good for her. You’re good to her. You listen to her. You hear her. From the moment you met her, you were absolutely infatuated with her.”

“Yeah.”

“So why haven’t you talked to her in a week?”   

She hears him let out a deep sigh, swearing she could hear him sniffle as if he were crying. “Because I’m in love with her. I love Y/N. And I know that the more I try to pull her back to me, the harder she’s going to push away.” 

“Why do you love her?” Evelina asks, grabbing her computer, an idea popping into her head as she balances her phone between her shoulder and her ear, pulling up a blank document. 

He scoffs, starting, “Her way of relaxing herself is by ranting about obscure facts that no sane person would actually care enough to read, let alone commit to memory. And she absolutely lights up when she tells you this stuff. She has this, this soft smile that still somehow reaches her eyes when she’s talking. At the end of her rant she makes that face where she scrunches her nose because she thinks it’s embarrassing that she just spewed all those facts to you.” 

“Keep going,” Evelina instructs him, her fingers flying over her keyboard as he talks.

“Are you typing?” 

“I’m working on...work. Keep going, I’m listening,” she says fast, hoping that he wouldn’t question her.

“I like how she dresses, and I know you think she doesn’t have good style but hear me out: she dresses how she’s comfortable. She doesn’t dress up often because it’s not something she wants to do so it’s not something she does do. But, fuck, when I see her dressed up in the slightest, she looks beautiful. She looks great in anything she wears.” 

Evelina couldn’t help but smile as she continued to type, not even needing to egg Matthew on to keep spilling his guts to her, his voice getting more confident with everything he listed. “Have you ever noticed how she doesn’t hold a pen correctly? What was it, her grandmother taught her to write outside of school so when she went to school and already knew her teachers saw that so they didn’t focus on her and catch that she was holding it wrong? So now she’s constantly playing with it to distract herself from that fact, which makes no sense, but whatever. And she has ink all over her hands all the time because she keeps twirling it between her fingers and dropping it.”

“She’ll joke that it’s ‘abstract art.’” Evelina cuts in, both of them laughing.

“Come on, even you love that. She’s so stubborn. Once she gets any idea in her head, she won’t give it up because she knows she’s right. It drives me crazy.”

“Mercury,” Evelina mutters. 

“What was that?”

“We found the card that you wrote with the jerseys,” she explains, peeling her shoulder away from her face and holding the phone with her hand for a moment, “You call her Mercury because she drives you crazy.” 

Matthew stays silent for a moment, forgetting that you were supposed to see him in Los Angeles against the Kings that Friday. “Are you still coming to that?” 

“You mean is she still coming with me?” He doesn’t answer again, leaving Evelina to fill the empty space in the conversation. “I’m going to try to get her there. I want her there. And I know she wants to be there, too.” 

“I remember the night we met,” Matthew says, changing subjects, not wanting to think about the possibility of not seeing you at that game, “it was just a normal night out with the guys and then two girls who we hadn’t seen before walked in. And normally we wouldn’t think anything of it, but,” he exhales, “I don’t know. The entire energy of the bar changed. All of us felt it. And then the two of you walked up to us. You were fucking annoying,” he jokes, earning a scoff from Evelina.

“Watch yourself Tkachuk, don’t make me mad right now.”

Rolling his eyes, even though he knew she couldn't see him, he continues, “The guys loved you immediately, it was like you had known them for years the way you fit in. But then there was Y/N. She’s your exact opposite: you were this loud force of nature but she was quiet. There was just something about her that I had to get to know her. I knew she was different around people she’s comfortable with and I just had to be one of those people. Couldn’t even tell you why.”

Matthew keeps talking, Evelina typing as he keeps telling her about his feelings. In a lull in your music, you can hear her laugh from your room, thinking to yourself that you were glad at least one of you was having fun with whatever it was they were doing. You finally sit up, having been sprawled on your back on your bed staring at your ceiling trying to think of something, anything that wasn’t Matthew. You look around your room, trying to ground yourself from the pain you felt from not hearing from him, not wanting to reach out to him to begin with. You see your computer on your dresser, forgetting that you put it there once you got to your room, getting up to put something on from Hulu. 

Out of the corner of your eye, in the reflection of your mirror, you see a black sleeve sticking out from the rest of the clothing that was hanging on the back of your door. You put your computer on your desk, flipping through the clothing to see what it was. You pull it off whatever hanger it was on, a wool winter pea coat, definitely not yours. 

Because it was Matthew’s. When you first met him, you were so comfortable around each other. You could go over his place with ease, not feeling awkward when you fell asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie, feeling completely normal when you woke up the next morning and used his bathroom as if it were your own, eventually keeping some stuff there for when you did stay over, no matter how little use it served you the night after the charity event. 

He was the same at your place. He has stuff around your room everywhere, you never really blinking an eye at the pair of his sweatpants and the tshirt that were somewhere in your drawers for when he slept over. Not even a year ago, he left in the sweatshirt, the coat he wore the night before left on the couch without you realizing it, making its home on the back of your door only to get shuffled right up against the wood as you hung more and more clothing in front of it. 

You walk over to your bed, not taking your eyes off the coat. You sit down on your bed, hearing some sort of jingling sound from somewhere in the coat. Digging through the pockets, you can feel something metal in the front right one, a piece of paper poorly folded around it. Should you be going through the pockets of someone else's coat? 

Who cared at this point? You take out the contents of the pocket: a key and a receipt. Your heart was racing, having a feeling about what both of these things meant. The receipt was dated the night you went out to the bar when you moved to Calgary, the night you met Matthew and the rest of the boys. Matthew’s name was on the bottom signaling that it was his, a few drinks circled by who you assumed was him. 

Those were the drinks he bought for you that night, the drinks he would always ask you if you wanted befor you could get a word in first, ‘vodka sour = lemon,’ and something else you couldn’t quite make out written on the side. The next time you were out with them, a vodka sour was the drink he bought you because you told him you liked lemon but hadn’t found a drink that you liked with it in it. That was the drink he bought you the night of the charity event. 

On the back of the receipt, again in Matthew’s handwriting, ‘my home is your home, Y/N.’ In your hand was a key, with a lemon charm hanging off of it. 

It was a key to his apartment. 

You couldn’t begin to fathom the emotions that washed over you in that moment, knowing that he was going to give you his key, probably before you even thought of giving him one for your place. Fuck, you didn’t even give him one, Evelina did. You didn’t even think about it, and there he was, a key for you, planned out, thoughtful, meaningful. You felt like crying because of sweet it was. 

You pick up your phone, pulling up Matthew’s contact to call him. Your finger hovers over the button. All you had to do was press the button, and you would talk to him for the first time in a week. Before you can tell yourself no, you hit the button, a picture of the two of you coming up on your screen, ‘Matthew, calling,’ rolling over your phone in bold white text.

You didn’t even know what you were going to say, holding the phone to your ear. Actually, you knew what you wanted to say, hearing the phone ring, and ring, and ring. It wouldn’t stop ringing. 

It was a sign. One that you shouldn’t be calling him, hanging up immediately and blocking his number so that he can’t try to call you back. If you were meant to be with him, then he would have answered when you wanted to talk to him most. He would have called you first.

Every emotion you felt turned into anger. You wanted him to call you. You wanted him to be there for you, because if this were happening with another guy, Matthew would be the one sitting there on the bed with you talking you down when this hypothetical man didn’t answer. 

“Mother fucker!” you scream, throwing the key against your door, letting it drop to the ground, wishing it was smashed. 

Evelina hears you, hoping that the conversation with Matthew would end soon so that she can go check on you when he says, “What about how she’s always so quick with her chirps? I have never met someone who’s so fast with a comeback. She’s better than any guy in the NHL. Better than anyone,” Matthew says, still on the phone with Evelina, his voice getting quiet. “Better than anyone,” he repeats himself. 

“I’ve known Y/N’s last two boyfriends and between her and Thomas recounting the high school boyfriend, I feel like I knew the third,” she says, partially regretting bringing up Thomas’s name, “You really love her?” 

“Haven’t I said that already?” he snaps.

“Yes, but I want you to say it again. She is my best friend and has had plenty of people say that they are in love with her. You’re the first one she’s been in love with back, though.”

Matthew’s breath hitches at those words. If Evelina was saying it about you, then it had to be true he figured. “Of course I do.” 

“Ok,” is all Evelina can say, leaving the two of them in silence for a few seconds. 

“Uh, bye, I guess,” Matthew says, hoping the awkward silence that fell between them would end. 

“I’ll text you later about something. Bye,” Evelina hangs up the phone, letting out a long sigh before getting off the floor. Wandering to your room, she knocks on your door, waiting for any sign of life from you to tell her she could come in. “What is this?” she asks after stepping on the key, handing it back to you, plopping herself down on your bed.. 

“Matthew was going to give me a key to his apartment,” you tell her, waving it around in the air. 

“When?” You shrug, honestly not sure how long ago the coat was left there, not sure how long it had been in his pocket in the first place. “I need to ask you something,” she says.

Not really paying attention, that stupid key in your hand, you answer her anyway, “What?”

“Do you like him?”

“Him who?”

Evelina rolls her eyes at you, telling you who even though she really didn’t need to. “Matthew.” 

“Of course I do. He’s my best friend besides you.” 

“Do you love him?” 

“Why hasn’t he called?” you ask, quietly, her instead.

Evelina sighs, “He probably wants to give you space,” she tells you, even though she knows the real answer. “He just wants you to go to him when you’re ready. You know he would never push you to do something you don’t want to.” 

The two of you sit there in silence for a moment, neither of you sure what to say. Would Matthew want you to reach out first? If he did, why didn’t he answer the phone just now?  “Y/N,” Evelina presses, you knowing that she wanted you to respond to the question you intentionally left unanswered. 

You pick up the receipt that was beside you, the key still in your hand, wondering how he could have thought yo give you the key before you even thought about it yourself. And why did he never give it to you? “Ev. I said no. He’s just like Thomas. He loves me and I don’t feel the same way, and I’ve lost him just like I lost Thomas,” you insist. 

“You didn’t lose him,” she tries to reassure you. “This is going to work out.”

“How do you know that, Ev? He means everything to me. You and him are the two people outside of my family that I care the most about. What does it say about our friendship that we get into some stupid fight and now we don’t talk for a week?”

“Y/N,” she lets out a small laugh, “He loves you.”

You shake your head, swallowing hard as you turn the key over in your hand for what felt like the thousandth time. “If he did he would be here right now. He would have called, he would have done something to show me that he cared about me.” 

“Y/N,” she tries.

“No, Ev. Can we just drop it?” you beg, reaching over to your nightstand and throwing the key and receipt in the drawer. “We have to work on our presentation, we leave tomorrow, and we still need to finish packing.” 

The rest of the night was spent by the two of you not saying more than monosyllabic sentences to each other while you worked on the finishing touches of your presentation, packing the last of what you needed for the trip and triing to get your mind off Matthew. You zip your bag up, satisfied that you were finished when you see the jersey Matthew gave you sitting there on your floor, in a pile of other clothing you meant to put away. 

You pick it up, like you did the jacket that was now sitting on the couch, a note laying on top of it for Evelina to give it back to Matthew. Sighing, you fold up the jersey, leaving your room to go put it with the coat. You didn’t want it. You had no need for it. All you could do was let it go. 

You couldn’t sleep the night, any time you closed your eyes and managed to doze off, Matthew’s image flashed through your mind. Every single memory you had with him seemed to be manifesting themselves in your dreams, unable to shake him no matter what you did.The nights you spent together on the couch watching whatever was on TV, teaching him to make your favorite cookies, even though he burned them to a crisp no matter how many times he would check the oven, the two of you going Christmas shopping for your families, buying each other the dumbest gifts you could find to see who you laugh harder. Not a single bad memory came up, besides the last time you saw him. Was everything with Matthew actually that perfect? Or were you blocking things out? 

Your alarm goes off but you were already awake for it, groaning loudly prompting Evelina to come running to your room. “Are you ok?” she asks in a panic. “Babe, did you sleep at all last night?” 

You didn’t even want to know how awful you looked, just hoping that you would be able to cover it up with makeup and get some semblance of sleep while on the plane even if it were only a three hour flight. “Maybe an hour?” you guess, even though you were sure that was an over exaggeration. “Whatever. We have to go get ready.” You get out of your bed and storm to the bathroom, closing the door before Evelina could even say anything. 

You looked like you had been hit by a truck, hating how you came across as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were red, the bags underneath them so rich in color they could probably be designer, your skin discolored like you were sick. You would need makeup and a miracle to fix yourself at this point. 

“Y/N?” Evelina says, opening the door without you inviting her in. “I found the coat and jersey.” You make eye contact with her through the mirror, pursing your lips and nodding as you get back to putting on your makeup. “You really don’t want them?” You shake your head, swallowing hard. If you kept them, then they would tempt you to go back to him. Getting rid of them was the only thing you could do. “I put them in my room for now, ok?” You nod again, still not saying a word. 

“I’m worried about you,” Evelina says. “Even with those other guys you’ve broken up with, they have never left you this broken.” 

“I’m over it. I’m just tired.” 

“We both know you’re lying about this. You know how you feel. You know that you’re in love with him, you always have been.”

You put your makeup down on the counter, staring at the powder in it’s container. “I can’t say it.” 

Evelina takes a step back. “What?” she asks, surprised by your response. 

“Thomas said he loved me, and that was it. The friendship was over and we haven’t seen him in years. If I say it to Matthew, if I admit it at all, then it’s going to be done. It already is done and I never said it.” 

Evelina could feel her heart breaking, trying everything she could not to start crying in front of you, worrying that it would set you off as well. “You know that’s not true.” 

“I do in my head, but not in my heart,” you say, letting out a laugh, “That sounds like something from a stupid Hallmark movie.” Evelina lets out a small laugh with you as you continue. “Can we just drop it this weekend? We just have to get through this conference. And get through a weekend with our boss.” 

“Ok. I’m gonna go finish getting ready, then,” Evelina says, backing out of the bathroom. 

By the time both of you are finished getting ready, your boss had texted you that you needed to be outside waiting for him in the next ten minutes when they pulled up with the car that all of you were taking. “Ok, last check. Boarding passes?” you start your list.

“Mine is the front pocket of my bag, yours are in the folder you have with your computer.”

“Passport?”

“Same places as the boarding passes for both of us.”

“Computers?”

“Side pocket of your bag, middle of my bag.”

“Chargers?” 

“Somewhere in my bag I have a phone charger and a computer charger for both of us.” 

You keep going through the long list, both of you knowing where the other kept everything. You freeze when you get to the last thing on the list, written in Evelina’s hand writing instead of your own. “Jerseys.” 

“I have mine. Yours is in my room.” 

“Good,” you say, almost completely forgetting about the game.  You shake your head as if to physically shake the thought of Matthew from your mind. “Got your keys?” you ask Evelina, her waving them in your face as you grab yours, too. “Let’s go then.”

The two of you lug your stuff towards the door, opening it and ready to leave when you see him there. “Matthew?” you say, surprised to see him standing in your doorway, a bouquet of flowers in hand, a guilty expression on his face as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days. “What are you doing here?” you ask in shock, feeling your heart start to race.

“Can we talk?” he asks quietly, debating on stepping into your apartment or not. 

“No. We’re leaving for the airport now, we don’t have time,” you tell him, trying to move past him.

“Come on, we need to talk,” he insists, putting his arm against the frame of your door to stop you from moving past him.

“Why should I listen to you?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Because I love you.”

[nowandevermore]

Hey-hey, Maybe! Happy STS!

When you're writing, is there any source that you tend to draw inspiration and/or motivation from (like do you listen to music to keep the flow going or do you pause to watch your favorite youtube comedians for creative inspiration, etc)?

Happy Saturday and I hope you have a fantstic weekend!

Happy STS!! Thanks for the ask, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend too! ❤️

I am always listening to music! I joke about always listening to sad songs, but it's what the muse calls for; so, you know, I keep making playlists lmao.

I found the angsty songs while working on Answers Buried in Time, and they've been a staple ever since. The last few chapters of that fic even included lyrics from a few I listened to in the author's notes.

[dex-xe]

I’ve made Spotify playlists inspired by each of the ghosts and I’ve made these little written pieces to talk about them. if you wanna read them, please go ahead - if not then enjoy the music!!

This is the Captain's playlist:

Moonlight Serenade - Glenn Miller

This is one of my favourite like old WWII style songs, I just think it’s beautiful and really great to dance slow to (at some point in my life I will dance with my husband or wife to this song in our little kitchen, and then my life will finally be complete). It’s in Doctor Who (in The Empty Child) and Jack and Rose dance to it in front of Big Ben, like it’s a really great scene in one of the best episodes of Dr Who ever. So good and a great WWII song.

Soldier - Trixie Mattel

Yes, I know this is about Katya’s issues and everything that happened with that but like it is also like very accurate to the Captain’s arc. Like “soldier, take your time” is like yeah?? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t believe the Captain is even remotely aware of the fact he’s gay cause like I don’t reckon he understands love or the fact that he’s got feelings like that, I don’t think he knows so yeah take your time to figure it out yeah, Captain.

We’ll Meet Again - Vera Lynn

This song seems to have taken a new meaning in pandemic times but Havers leaving Button House and (I assume) never returning but like the Captain staying at Button House completely in the dark as to what happened to Havers and therefore living with the possibility of Havers returning.

HEAVEN - Troye Sivan & Betty Who

Obviousssss, but this song was such an integral part in me figuring shit out about my life. Like, I was 14 and a massive Troye fan when it came out and (growing up in a working class, strict religious, small town family) the music video was literally my first understanding of the fight for queer rights. I knew about LGBTQ+ identities and identified as a variety of queer labels at the time I was completely unaware of the entire struggle that had come before me and seeing photos and footage of this fight for the first time was O.o Anyway, I'll stop talking about myself and say that I’m incredibly happy with the hc of the Captain trying to learn a bit more about queer history in his journey to accept himself.

In Our Bedroom After the War - Stars

The poor Captain, let the man love I beg. I have so much love for stories and hcs of the Captain being sweet and being in love like pls ily.

Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths

This might actually kill his gay little soul but by good it would be worth it!! I’m gonna go off on a bit of a philosophy tangent but what were ya expecting from me honestly: the sample used in Achilles Come Down is an extract from a 1942 essay by Albert Camus who, alongside Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and the like, wrote about the concept of ‘the absurd’ which is a tricky concept but a reallyyyyyy simplified version of it is basically the idea that humans constantly search for a meaning and purpose for life and the universe but the universe does not provide answers to that which causes human distress. Basically, what I mean to say like isn’t that concept just so Captain?? Like he searches for meaning in war and can’t see life beyond the war because that provides him purpose, you know?? But yeah, it’s a banging song and I’m sorry about the tangent.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

Ya saw this one coming :P Well he just is a good old fashioned lover boy so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

William, It Was Really Nothing - The Sm*ths

Even just the name being right is like *chefs kiss*. Yes there are lines in this song that are just shit and reallyyyyyyy show the views of M*rrisey and his general shitty behaviours.

It’s a Long Way to Tipperary - John McCormack

It’s just a fun song.

You’re Somebody Else - flora cash

LGBTQ+ staple really, ik it’s about being trans but I wanted to include it because of the recent Ben Willbond interview when he talks about how he’s interested in the contrast of a confused authoritative figure. Like the Captain is such a contrast and I love that in characters.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time - Harry James

Like I’ve said repeatedly, I wanted at least a little bit of time specific music for each of them I could. So yeah there’s a few for the Captain, WWII music is such a vibe tbh.

The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel

I’ve always interpreted the song as being about loneliness and well, Captain my boy that you. Like he’s literally surrounded by people 24/7 but is so very alone. When the others are all watching tv in Redding Weddy and the Captain is just sat in the window watching for Havers is just so pretty and I think it’s really telling of the relationship he has with the others.

The Arrow and the Aim - Nadia Reid

Pretty pretty song, the voice is *mwah* but that’s irrelevant.

Ramblings of a Lunatic - Bears In Trees

Okay but like yes. The Captain is so alone like despite being around people literally all the time - not being able to escape you might say. Is he aware he’s different? Like what goes on in his head, will we ever know?? Cap, you gotta start talking to people, man. You gotta open up cause you will go crazy, Ik it’s been 70 years fella but seriously you’re gonna go crazy soon.

Death with Dignity - Sufjan Stevens

Just a beautiful song, and yeah with the Captian being the way he is and so focused on the war and military and the idea of "death with dignity" is pretty prolific. Given that we're fairly sure the Captain never saw any action, would he be considered to have died with dignity?? Maybe, maybe not idk.

I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General - Arthur Sullivan & John Reed

That one scene where Alison is trying to sleep and the Captain is just sat beside her bed singing this. Like that’s so funny XD It’s his little head bob as he sings like that’s so good.

Kiss Me Goodnight, Sergeant Major - Arthur Askey

I remember my nan had an Askey record and she used to play it all the time and this always made me laugh cause 5 year old me couldn’t get the image of a really strong and tough soldier being all motherly and yeah I just wanted to include it :D

Teddy Boy - Paul McCartney

The Captain’s name is Teddy, I take no debate on this. Just the idea of the Captain’s backstory, like a childhood backstory for the Captain genuinely makes me cry. I know a lot of people have shared their stories of their interpretation of the Captain’s childhood and they’re all sad and I love them all :’) (Specifically a big fan of Operation Keep Calm on AO3 and what they’ve done with the Captain’s character and story, 10/10 would recommend but it’s not finished and I really hope it is at some point ily).

O Captain! My Captain! - The Static Shift

Just an interesting song, yeah? “I believe I’m in my prime”/“In my bally prime”, you get it XD

John My Beloved - Sufjan Stevens

I love this song (no I’ve never seen the film and no don’t really intend to) It’s just sweet, you know, and the religious elements etc yeah that’s good.