#and i resonate so much with whats being told and sung

[nemotakeit]

the way tyler writes his lyrics in a way that's lowkey impossible to interpret at a first glance but still delivers the essential feel of it with the first impression is pretty amazing to me

[ashherahh]

a love letter from your future spouse

Note: Please take it if it resonates, leave it if it doesn't. Meditate before making your decision. It's completely okay if you don't resonate with this reading. The collective is huge and I'm sure you'll receive the messages you need in due time.

pile 1

I wish I could comfort you. I hate seeing you this way, like the light has been snuffed out of you. I want to make it all up to you. Lay your head on my lap and let me comfort you.

I can be the shoulder you cry on. I can be with you through the storm.

Everything you are working so hard to achieve will all work out. I know you feel like it won't happen but I will be there, cheering you on. I know you can do anything you set your mind to.

This will pass. No matter what happens we will get through it together.

Things may seem as though they are falling apart, but we will rebuild together. We'll fix anything that needs fixing. You can be vulnerable with me, you don't have to do it alone.

At times, I wish you would trust me with everything but I'm reminded by how you never let anyone else see you this way. Uneasy and unsure of things. Being vulnerable is difficult for you, I know. You've always had to be independent and you couldn't rely on others, but you can rely on me.

Tell me what you need and I will give you all I can.

Additional messages: Summer, Autumn. The number 5. Computer screens, messy hair. Fatigue. Coffee. Red, blue, green. Checkered floors.

About your spouse: They're someone very in tune with you. A very, very intuitive individual. It really affects them whenever you go through something. Despite being so in tune with you, they're solid like a rock. They can be quite paternal.

Song: Don't Cry - Guns & Roses

pile 2

You are the most badass person I know.

You've come a long way and I am so proud of you. Every day I'm with you, I'm in awe of your strength. I know you've pulled yourself out of dark places and you've always done it alone but not anymore and never again.

I love your smile. Your smile makes me smile. You make me laugh. Despite everything you've been through you're one of the most optimistic people I know, if not the most optimistic.

I love you so much. More than I can put into words. Sometimes I do struggle with my words, I know but I want you to know that I mean what I say. When I told you I love you, I meant it and I always will.

We will build our home and it will be our place of solace. We'll eat cake whenever we want and we'll go exploring together. You've turned my life into an adventure.

I love listening to you talk. I can listen to you all day long. Everything in my life feels so vibrant because of you. Thank you, my love. I am so greatful I met you.

Additional messages: Gorillaz. Band t-shirts. Eyes. Hands. The numbers 1 and 8. Baking. Black and brown. Glasses. December.

About your spouse: Their inner world is very expressive. They're shy, but on the inside there's a lot happening. They like to look at you, probably with hearts in their eyes all the time. They might even make music.

Song: Things That Scare Me - Neko Case

pile 3

I will never rush you. You are not a burden to love and you are not a burden to understand either.

I will give you the patience no one else wanted to. I will hold your hand through the dark days. For better or worse. In sickness and health. Sometimes I feel like I made those vows in my heart the first time I spoke to you.

Everything sung in me that you will be the one I wake up to in the morning. When I rest my head at night, I thank everything good that I have you in my life. What is trouble against a lifetime with the one you love?

In a way, you saved me. I think of the day I met you all the time, how suddenly everything changed. I feel it when I hold your hand, when we embrace, when I kiss you and you kiss me. Softly, I am reminded of how safe I felt as a child and how peaceful everything was. You brought that peace back to me.

Over the years anxiety began to build in me, I can't say I know when it began but it ended with you. The kindness, gentlessness, and understanding you've shown me has completely transformed me. I don't think you know you did that. That's just how you are. I love you for who you are.

You might believe that you will never find me but you will. I will find you. We will walk into each others lives and we won't remember a day when things were not as they are right now.

Additional messages: Painting. Driving. Number 11. Writing. March and August. Piercings and tattoos.

About your spouse: They're very logical in all situations but when it comes to you they kind of calm down. They might be in a field where they talk a lot. They're aloof.

Song: Sure Thing - Miguel

[suzannahnatters]

I have finished watching MR SUNSHINE, and there was so much that I loved about this prestige kdrama. The writing of the heroine was SO good in how it discussed and defied some of the worse kdrama-heroine tropes. There was amazingly trenchant and deeply nuanced social criticism, gorgeous cinematography, lots of fascinating history, the warmest and most positive depiction of Christianity I've ever seen in a kdrama, men who drink respect women juice, the beautiful and angsty Gu Dong-Mae, FABULOUS period clothing, and rivals in love learning to put aside their differences in favour of shooting imperialists.

But the show has a major flaw - a flaw that was particularly interesting to me, because it's the precise sort of flaw that I would be most prone to. The screenwriter, who does such brilliant work in so many other ways, is clearly most fascinated by the themes and symbolism she keeps bubbling away in the story's subtext. The problem is that these themes and symbolism - which delightfully clever - are not actually supported by the storytelling, and particularly by the characterisation.

And it's a really fun, rich, resonant bit of symbolism: Ae-Sin is not just a character in the story, she's the living embodiment of Joseon Korea. She's beautiful, desirable, noble, privileged, gradually awakening to a life of hardship and struggle and resistance. Each of the three male leads in the story has a different complicated relationship with her. Eugene has run away from Korea, but returning as an adult cannot help falling in love with the land and the people in defiance of the nobility who mistreated him as a boy. Gu Dong-mae was horribly oppressed by his homeland but cannot help loving it anyway; the Korea which oppressed both men also saved their lives through small acts of kindness. And finally, Hee-Sung, Korea's richest son, is her approved betrothed, but past injustices committed by his family against the people Ae-Sin cares about stand between them. The three men fall in love, not with Ae-Sin, but with their homeland. They express their love for the woman by sacrificing themselves for the homeland; in dedicating themselves to her, they cannot help dedicating themselves to the fight for freedom.

This is why the story had to have a sad ending. None of these men can espouse the whole country; they can only die for her, while Ae-Sin - Korea itself - lives on, alone and victorious, even in exile.

This symbolism is itself delightfully rich, deftly painted, and rewarding to think back upon once you see it. There's only one problem: it doesn't. make. sense.

From the very start of the show, I felt a little impatient with the writing because the relationships between the heroine and her three suitors are so poorly developed. The feelings come out of nowhere. Take Gu Dong-Mae, for instance: he last met this woman when she saved his life as children. Now, it just takes a brush of her dress across his fingers to get him pining madly for her. Hee-Sung, after avoiding her for the best part of a decade, gets one glimpse of Ae-Sin at the washing-line and just like that conceives an undying passion for her. The central relationship, between Ae-Sin and Eugene, doesn't fare much better. The problem is that the story demands each of the male leads to sacrifice himself for Ae-Sin by the end of the show, and I simply couldn't understand why they should. They all have multiple other women pining for them, and Ae-Sin doesn't give two of them the slightest encouragement to hope. I wanted them so badly to find happiness with one of the other women, and they never did.

What MR SUNSHINE needed was not primarily rich and complex symbolism - it was believable characterisation and relationship development. As it was, the lack of substance to the relationships cheapened the grand historical tragedy which was being told. When at the climactic moment the last of the three leads sacrifices himself for the heroine, it felt cheesy and unintentionally funny, rather than tragic.

I loved so much about this story, but the heart of it never clicked for me, and it's a crying shame that with all that budget and talent, it wasn't better written. And that, for me, will be the central tragedy of MR SUNSHINE.

[solarflicker]

What's your favourite song in jcs +favourite version of it??

It took me like a month to pick a song, and ultimately I can’t pick a favorite. So instead I’m gonna go with Hosanna and Simon Zelotes, which is very underrated imo

First of all, it’s the sermon on the mount, easily one of if not the most famous of Jesus’s sermons. And despite hearing it constantly the song makes it sound fresh and resonant. The audience becomes swept up with the crowd, almost like inviting them to be a part of the story in a way.

So much happens in the song. The Jewish leaders approach Jesus and express their anxiety (an opportunity to portray them sympathetically), and you get to see how Jesus responds to them (ranging from fiery defiance in 2012 arena to low key acknowledging but mostly ignoring in 73). And you see the crowd that Judas is afraid of and you see how Jesus responds. Sleepy little smile and getting smacked in the face with palm branches (73), just reveling in the attention bathed in gold light with giant posters of him flying around (2000), being one man at the heart of the crowd (2012 arena)(btw that’s how Bensus makes his first entrance in the overture). You get to see how people put him on a pedestal and how he feels about it. You’re seeing what got him to his status, and you get to see him in his element.

And it’s a good time to look for Judas! This is the crowd he’s frightened of. In both 2012 productions he’s watching the events play out from scaffolding. In the 50th Anniversary tour he is largely absent (i call him peekaboo Judas bc he pops on and off stage so often), but he makes an appearance when Jesus sings that “there is not one of you who cannot win the kingdom”, and the line is sung directly to him. And they reconcile for a moment before Simon Zelotes begins and Judas leaves. This contrasts with the 2000 version where the adoring crowd calls for his death and disturbs Jesus, who then stands close to Judas who gives him an “i told you so” look and seems to think that Jesus has gotten a wake-up call.

I can’t even begin to analyze each Jesus’s reaction to “Hey JC, JC, won’t you die for me?” It’s the turning point. For the rest of the play and by extension his life, Jesus can never be happy again.

And then Simon Zelotes! The guy gets one moment in the spotlight and spends the entire time talking about how everyone is on fire for Jesus and how all the glory is for him, and then pulls Jesus aside to tell him about how he wants to use his power for political advantage (of course I think an uprising would have been justified but the point is that wasn’t what Jesus had been talking about.) Simon and his fevered mob have taken Jesus’s influence and used his words for a different mission.

Seeing Simon power belting with a coordinated flash mob backing him up completely captures the high energy and obsession of religious fervor and feels very similar to services I have seen and experienced, down to the political motives that Simon only discusses with Jesus and not the congregation he influences. He isn’t completely upfront with them. He doesn’t introduce himself, everything in his character is all about Jesus.

And then the end is so slow and sad after Simon finishes his song. Usually Jesus is weary and disappointed, but I remember one production where Jesus was angry with Simon.

I thought I could pick a favorite. Right now my top three are 50th Anniversary Tour, 2012 Arena and 1973 (tied), and 1992 London

[feralstemgirl]

as a lil treat for those of y’all who’ve come here from TKAM, here’s a scrapped idea for the arrival to ilum that i still wish i’d been able to make work.

***

Ilum sings to him like a mother to her child, like Shmi had once sung to a young Ani. No, not just Ilum, the caves. The crystals. They are an orchestra in his ears, the singing of woodwinds, the thrumming of strings, the heartbeat of percussion.

On his belt, he hears his bloody kyber joins the song. Longing. Anakin looks down. “Do you want me to return you to your siblings?” He asks reluctantly and his kyber’s rejection is instantaneous, soothing over his fear.

we are reforged together, and I did not choose you but I love you all the same, his kyber answers echoing the words he once told it. Anakin feels love like a flower blooming in his lungs, choking on the sweet taste. Overwhelming. Unstoppable.

He laughs, breathless.

“What’s so funny?” Obi-Wan asks, joining him in the cockpit, and Anakin shakes his head.

“Do you hear the kyber?” He asks. Tano could hear his saber, so it can’t be a just him skill, even if Tyranus and Ventress never seem as bothered by their screaming kyber as he is.

Kenobi frowns. “Faintly, if I focus.” He answers. “Can you?”

Anakin hums. “Like an orchestra or a choir in my ear.” He tries to mimic the song but his human lungs can only create a pale echo of the ringing, beautiful song so entrancing him.

Obi-Wan stares at him, raising an eyebrow. “And that made you laugh?”

Anakin is quick to shake his head. “No, hardly. I was- I asked my kyber if it wanted to go home. After all, it didn’t choose me. I took it by force and though we have been through much together, I- I wanted to give it the choice.”

Were Anakin a Jedi, he would know how strange it was to talk about kyber as if sentient. But he isn’t, and so he has no idea that his words are absolutely baffling to Obi-Wan. “When I first bled it, I- I promised the kyber- I told it: we are made from the same wound, and although I am not your chosen, I will love you all the same. You bleed and I bleed with you.” He says and his kyber hums warmly in his hand. “Ever since, it has echoed me, crying out from the same wound as its refrain the same way your kyber sings we are unbroken,”

“My kyber does what?” Obi-Wan interrupts and Anakin blinks.

“You can’t hear it?” He blurts. After all, Tano had been able to hear his kyber.

“I can hear it humming, but words?” Obi-Wan says, frowning.

Anakin shrugs. He has always heard kyber song. “It’s beautiful, Obi-Wan. I’ve been entranced ever since I first heard it.” He says, focusing. After a moment, he locks onto the ringing song of Obi-Wan’s kyber around his waist and begins to nervously hum its melody, before slowly echoing it with his voice. “Unbroken, we are unbroken, we are light born of the brightest stars and we are unbroken,” he sings softly, Kenobi’s kyber shimmering with delight at being sung with. “That’s what it sings, what it always has sung ever since I met you. It loves you so much, it will love you to the shattering. Its fundamental frequency resonates with your soul.”

Kenobi stares, and stares, and stares. Finally, blushing, Anakin continues. “Anyway, it’s just- when I asked my kyber if it wanted to go home, it sang a new refrain. It told me I did not choose you but I love you all the same,” and Anakin grins as his kyber echoes it once more, giddy, “And I just- is there anything better than the knowledge that you are really, truly loved? That even despite the darkness I have brought it through, my kyber loves me anyway?”

Obi-Wan is still staring at him and Anakin begins to feel self-conscious. “Maybe it’s silly-”

“No, no, I- I think you’re right.” Obi-Wan interrupts, looking down at his own saber.

****

anyway i’m still so obssessed with the line it will love you to the shattering. It’s fundamental frequency resonates with your soul.

It was actually the inspiration for the scene where Anakin bleeds his kyber.

In fact, you’ll notice that quite a few little bits of this scrapped chunk have appeared in other scenes in TKAM. I used to never ever scrap scenes until I ran across advice somewhere that instead of killing your darlings you should freeze them (delete them from the story proper but save them in a separate doc so you can use them later if you want) which I have taken to like a duck to water lol and lots of my frozen darlings end up getting tiny cameos in new scenes.

[bisluthq]

As a fan of her music who also happens to be a woman who makes questionable-bad choices ™️ (though of a different nature), and has blown up aspects of my life in a much smaller scale (because it’s easy for me to have work, friends, family all know a different version of me cause I’m not a global superstar)…. I very much appreciate Taylor releasing TTPD and letting it all out and sharing such personal details.

As a fan of the woman and only wanting good things for her, I can’t help but feel releasing a large portion of TTPD was equally cathartic as it was part of the self harming.

Like it’s cathartic to write and get it all out. And it’s cathartic for her to sing those songs and have them sung back to her because it makes her feel less alone (her words) and I wonder if she feels she has a “duty” to release some of this stuff because she knows it’ll hopefully resonate with someone…. But she also painted a very unflattering picture of herself - which I admire cause it’s real and… good for her. But for someone who has been so image conscious for nearly 20 years, releasing the songs that paint her in a bad light and make her look psychotic - so much that she in part ANTICIPATED the reaction because she called it a manic phase and self harm… like was releasing it part of throwing her life to the wolves or ocean rocks? Is she wanting to be understood by people who don’t need to, or don’t deserve to understand her and the whole tatty thing? From an image pov, the consensus was she was so heartbroken and fucked in the head that she rebounded with a “loser” because she was so broken. Did she release all those songs to defend his honour or explain herself? Or just sharing dope songs?

One of the best things my therapist told me was that when I feel misunderstood (which is a lot lol) it’s actually ok and not a bad thing that the person at the post office thinks I shop too much online (but they don’t know that I’m buying things for a side hustle), or that a colleague thought I had no personality for having a capsule wardrobe (I did it to reduce decision fatigue and be economical. I had a uniform and never had to iron, sort my washing or think what to wear). Or a friend thought I was rich cause I went to a string of concerts in a row (she had gone on an overseas vacation, I did not go on a weekend away and just spent my money on concerts and festivals which just all happened to be in the summer). Weird examples, but there wasn’t any problem in those people perceiving me the way they did and it didn’t affect me in a meaningful way that needed correction. If my colleague thought I didn’t shower and said I stank and told HR, or thought I was coming to work high - that is worth saying ‘umm actually…’ or if someone thought I was cheating on my partner or doing something bad where it affected those relationships, then it’s important to correct the narrative. This has been a huge issue for me and I’ve worked with my therapist when she realised I was starting a lot of my downfalls by over sharing lmao because I just wanted to be understood and hate hate hate being misunderstood!!!! But “not everyone needs or deserves to understand you” honestly changed my life.

I’ve typed too much but idk ijbol but yeah like I’m not saying Taylor should have kept TTPD in a vault, and there are some songs that wouldn’t have added to the shitstorm in Texas. But she created a bigger monster when she released it and idk I just wonder if for her, if that was healthy… or if she really wanted the songs in the wild if she would have been better off releasing a ‘eras from the vault’ but not saying when the songs were written. Like half could be John mayer smack cams and Smallest Man would’ve been better received if it was perceived to be him outside the fandom imo lmao.

I love so much of what you’ve said and I’m gonna reread it later because it just hits tbh. I love it. There are so many true things here.

Taylor releasing TTPD should put an end to “she only does this for clout” because yes absolutely she didn’t have to tell us all this.

Taylor should go to therapy lol like ofc she should. most of us should and she doesn’t have money barriers to it so there’s no reason she doesn’t go regularly (I do think she’s been but didn’t like it and you’re not supposed to every time)

Taylor as of TTPD does not seem well lmao like that shit’s not okay and it’s relatable and stuff and she’s very productive but she… does not seem well… and that’s fine lol I’m not judging but come the fuck on lol. People acting like she’s super okay and better than she’s ever been are a bit weird. She seems unwell but that’s fine like we all do dumb shit sometimes ykwim?

[luminecho]

Maya pls 👉👈

(Send me a character or multiple and I’ll give you a handful of songs I associate with them and why)

MAYA TIIIME!!! songs under the cut just in case the list gets long <3

Wanted to start off with Misguided Ghosts by Paramore because I said in my last ask how I feel like this song is both Mia and Maya, but like... separately. But now I get to talk about why it's Maya :3 I see this song as a representation of how a lot of the people in Maya's life have left her or betrayed her or both and left her with practically no ground to stand on except for in the support of the ones she still can hold dear. I specifically feel very strongly about the "you are not useless" line in reference to finding someone to rely on and comfort her and tell her this (Phoenix). I'm specifically thinking of her character arc in AA1, here.

Now I'm told that this is life And pain is just a simple compromise So we can get what we want out of it Would someone care to classify Our broken hearts and twisted minds So I can find someone to rely on And run to them, to them Full speed ahead Oh, you are not useless We are just [Misguided ghosts...]

Seven by Sleeping At Last is a song which I feel represents Maya's boundless optimism, curiosity, and sense of adventure. Yes, it's partially because I strongly feel that Maya's enneagram type is 7, but I also think even removed from that Seven is a very her song, because, well. It's her, lol. In order to explain the FULL details of exactly why I feel this song fits her so well I'd have to dissect the song and enneagram sevens as a whole, lol, but we'd be here all day if I did that, so just. Trust me <3

How wonderful to see a smile on your face It costs farewell tears for a welcome home parade A secret handshake between me and my one life I'll find the silver lining no matter what the price

Second Child, Restless Child by The Oh Hellos is another simple one! Much like Seven, I feel like it just represents her wild and adventurous side <3

See, I was born the second child With a spirit running wild, running free And they saw trouble in my eyes They were quick to recognize the devil in me See, I was born a restless child And I could hear the world outside calling me And heaven knows how hard I tried But the devil whispered lies I believed

The Village by Wrabel. This is in general a really important Queer song, I feel, but I'm taking a lot of the context out of it for this. Do I think the people in Kurain are homophobic/transphobic? Personally, no. However, I feel like this song still really resonates for the feeling of growing up in a village where you're constantly being told who and what to be, and your actions and choices are limited, and you have this massive weight of everyone's expectations burdening your shoulders. And I feel like that's very Maya.

There's something wrong in the village In the village, oh They stare in the village In the village, oh There's nothing wrong with you It's true, it's true There's something wrong with the village With the village

Older Brother by Pepper Rabbit is pretty much a song I feel represents Maya, Phoenix, and Mia, and all of their relationships with each other. At the center of it is Maya, though, with her and Phoenix finding comfort in each other and growing closer after Mia's passing and Phoenix vowing to look after Maya for her. I'd say the first half of this song is sung by Maya, and the other half by Phoenix.

And I think that you're the older brother That I never had I wish I could reach out and touch you Don't worry, I'm not sad

I will look after your sister, I swear I'll write her when she's lonely, and send it off in the air I will keep her safe until I'm dead She'll always have a place to rest her head

[silviakundera]

watching Lovely Runner to check out the hype. 6 episodes completed, I have mixed feelings. (Don't read my thoughts if that's just going to make you upset. Not everyone is going to feel the same way about the dramas you love. My thoughts can't affect your love for the material. ❤) SPOILERS.

I really enjoy all the moments where she is an old soul and bemused at high school life. And her relationship with her mom.

I'm clearly not the target audience because FL being a hardcore super-fan of the kpop star ML in the future timeline is making it impossible to ship them. Like, his teen crush is sincerely adorkable but I keep waiting for a line to drawn where she stops seeing him as the idol and likes him as a regular ass person -- and I'm not feeling it yet as of episode 6. To accept this stan love premise, I think I'd need to see her stop liking him (un-stan) and then watch the process of her falling in love for real.

I like her and ML's characters but in all honesty, I've developed SML syndrome. (I enjoy how she talks shit to SML and they have these delightfully frank conversations with no pretence. I like the contrast in how she's been changing him without trying, in the background of her trying so hard to fix her idol.)

I know from Tumblr that this is actually a serial killer villain and the ML didn't end his own life after all. And being 6 episodes into the drama, I definitely wish that wasn't the case. I feel like it would be much more profound (to me!! just as a personal preference) if truly the only person the ML has to be saved from is himself. It would just be a beautiful mirror for me of how he changed her life. Giving back to him, full circle.

And there's really just SOMETHING that hits for me in the idea of the impossibility of just "fixing" a couple life events to cure depression - the idea of her changing history again & again and it not saving him, because depression isn't just about outer circumstances but what a person is experiencing inside. Her having to come to terms that demanding he be happy and care for himself isn't the solution. (People with depression are so often told to just try harder to be happy and think happy thoughts).

I fully understand this is NOT the story the writer wants to tell and the story the writer DOES want to tell really resonated with people. But that's just how it goes sometimes. 🤷 It simply wasn't written for me.

The story I'd be more enthused about would be FL going into these time travel adventures to save her kpop idol who inspired her to keep living, at her darkest point, and eventually helping him believe in 1 more day. So he lives through THAT DAY in the future. After which nothing is guaranteed. But there is hope. One day at a time. And through that experience, realizing her obsessive fangirl love was never about his real self... the same as his love-at-first-sight teen crush doesn't hold up after getting to know her real self. And she and pathetic teen delinquent Kim Tae Sung fall in love & are dating for real now when she returns to the future, as a rom com subplot. She finally sees her idol as just another struggling person and they do become friends.

This drama is very well made and I can see why this drama and its otp are so popular. Just not exactly catered to my tastes. You know how for some people, fictional incest ships are a deal breaker? well lmao those don't squick me but fan x celebrity pairings do 🙈😂😭

[spocks-evil-godmother]

"move toward the darkness" - addams family musical

due to a combination of seeing professional tour and three high school productions who all decided to perform it the same year, the addams family is the musical i have seen the most times. it was the first musical i saw without an adult chaperone. (at the professional tour performance, my sister and i played I Spy with the audience members below us and discovered that there were TWO men wearing a blue hawaiian shirt and a cowboy hat separately in their own families.) i'm fond.

and also i think i listened to "move toward the darkness" a million times on my sad little mp3 player back then. i love the way we talk about storytelling, and the eternal question of whether we write about things because they are important or if things become important because people write about them. and i think the same is true of musicals. something that is said aloud can gain gravity, depth, and value by being sung in a particular way in a particularly context.

"love survives" is one of those statements that, when said, may not pack much of a punch. in fact, we say so many things about love all the time that they are well-known to mean basically nothing. but give it a tune, and a place in a song about facing the darkness, and suddenly it hits just a little different.

i don't know, what, specifically about this song still resonates—because, true to form, here i am listening to it for the sixth time in a row, and feeling like something in me is fixed because of this song. It holds me, the addams family, which is ridiculous because I don't even like it that much. but i am loved by it, perhaps.

perhaps it is an antidote to the way many other musicals end: either, "they lived happily ever after," or, "they ended unhappily, but they found great meaning in their suffering, or knowing their story would be told, or in imparting a catharsis to the audience, or in remembering that which used to be happy."

and this musical is never quite as poetic as that. their stance is, "hm! sometimes things are fucked up! love that for us." and that is how they leave their audience. Be moody! Run away and hide! Think about the frustrating things! Be sad! Dig yourself a hole and SIT IN IT. And now, familiar as you are with that darkness—what's really left behind?

And it's love, because of course it's love, but it's not a flimsy love based in forced happiness or willful ignorance. it is not a love that demands that you stop being what you already are. and that's something, isn't it?

Are you unhappy, my darling?

Yes, yes, completely.

[waywardwriting]

Hi! Could I please request an imagine with Jack and reader (female) where reader introduces him to Disney movies (or cartoons like Ducktales or Gravity Falls) and the rest of TFW 2.0's reaction to it? I love the idea of Jack liking Disney 'cause it's just all fluffy and Jack is a precious cinnamon roll that must be protected at all costs? 😊

Disney Days || Jack Kline x Fem! Reader

My first request! How exciting! I hope you enjoy it !!❤️

Jack and the reader sit down and enjoy a cozy day in watching a Disney movie 🍿

After a long few weeks on a strenuous hunt, Y/N decided it was time to put her feet up and have a day full of self care. It was quite the rainy day and the boys were out running errands which usually took until the evening time. Jack decided to stay home this time around , he really enjoyed being around Y/N she was so merry and bright and always knew how to make him smile and didn’t treat him like he was different like most people he knew . Y/N pressed the button on the remote for Disney+ and awaited the screen and titles to load. Jack decided to announce his arrival with a classic “Hello!” and a bright smile of his own. He was holding snacks in his hands , nougat bars his favourite and popcorn for them both. Y/N let out a giggle at his joyfulness. “Hiya Jack! Got some snacks have you?” Y/N asked with a raised eyebrow and a grin, she was overjoyed he had stayed behind in the bunker with her , she loved his company just as much as he loved hers. Jack was a breath of fresh air after all the misery and exhaustion the hunt had caused. “I have! I remembered you said you would introduce me to … ‘Disney…?’ You said it would be something I would enjoy!” Jack responded and made his way over to sit next to Y/N as she invited him over with a pat of her hand against the couch. “I did! I would love that! You’ll really enjoy this Jack!” Y/N smiled warmly at the nephilim. Y/N had such a soft spot for him. Jack was pure and gentle a beautiful soul, the poor angel didn’t ever get to experience a normal childhood and was forced to grow up way too fast. Between the two of them they decided on Tangled, a classic! Jack thoroughly enjoyed it humming along to the songs as he ate his infamous nougat bars. He resonated with Rapunzels story, he thought of his evil captor as Lucifer, bad. Y/N smiled up at Jack and scooted closer to him on the couch as the rain pelted against the windows of the bunker, they had acquired a blanket and Y/N rested her head on Jacks shoulder. Jack remembered what Dean had told him about cuddling when he asked the elder Winchester for help about his feelings for Y/N. So he placed his arm around her shoulder and held her close gently with such care. Jack thought of himself as a monster sometimes destined to be bad like Lucifer but in this moment he knew those thoughts were untrue . Those feelings melted away as he held Y/N, her trust and faith in him made him feel strong and he would protect her forever. As Jack examined her features up close he realised she had quite the gash across her lip from the hunt. He carefully placed a hand on her cheek looking into her soft eyes as his turned a sunshine yellow his hands glowing. Then , like in the movie where Rapunzel healed Flynn, he began to sing her song. “Flower gleam and glow , let your powers shine , make the clock reverse and bring back what once was mine , heal what has been hurt, change the fates design, save what has been lost, being back what once was mine , what once was mine” Jack sung so beautifully with such grace that Y/N begun to shed tears and leaned into his touch , her wounds healing completely like they were never there . “That was beautiful Jack thank you” Y/N whispered and pulled him into a tight hug running her fingers through his hair and he gladly returned the gesture. The day had flew by and it was already evening so there stood Sam, Dean and Cas in the doorway watching the scene unfold before them. “That’s my boy!” Dean whispered with a shit eating grin on his face earning him a slap in the back of the head from Sam. Cas watched with a bright smile on his own face , he was so proud of his son.

[gumnut-logic]

The Kermadec Whales (Part 11)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

I should be reading and reblogging some of the amazing fluffember fic that was posted today, but the muse went nuts and wrote nearly 2500 words in the few moments I had today, so I’ve run with it and am now exhausted. I will hopefully backtrack tomorrow.

So, you get two parts tonight :D I had to separate them rather than keep them as one chapter. Part 11 is too short, so you’re getting Part 12 in a moment as well. I hope you enjoy both of them.

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​ @janetm74​ and @tsarinatorment​ for fielding my uncertainties for this bit. And also to @gaviiadastra​ for her amazing support throughout this fic ::hugs you all::

Have a little whale whispering Virg.

-o-o-o-

Virgil hung in the water column, singing.

Gordon swallowed as his brother drifted a little closer to the whales, the water eddies apparently wanting that to happen.

Gordon had to hold himself back and not grab Virgil. His heart was beating so fast it almost matched the resonance in the water.

His hand on Scott’s arm was the only thing grounding him.

The muscles under his uniform were as tight as the simulated strings Virgil was playing.

The music was discordant. His own musical education told him that much. Slightly off human standard, bits missing where the computer compensated and shifted the sound outside of human hearing range. But the emotion in Virgil’s voice…was heart wrenching.

Scott twitched under his fingertips. Everything in the man wanted this to stop, it was obvious.

But the bond between his eldest brothers was strong. Virgil had asked and Scott was doing his best to comply, but Gordon knew there was a limit.

He had his own.

“John, any indication of what is going on?” Scott’s voice was desperate.

“Eos is working on it.”

“Work faster.”

“It doesn’t work that way. We are doing our best.”

A sigh. “I know.”

Scott hated this with his very being.

Fortunately, all the bulls had remained silent so far.

As if the thought was a trigger, one of them broke ranks and began to sing…ever so quietly, Gordon could barely hear any of it.

“Sam, you getting this?”

“All of it. Never heard anything like it.” There was wonder in the scientist’s voice.

The whale responsible moved slowly into the centre of the half-circle, its head dipping slightly towards the ocean floor. As it moved closer, Gordon realised it was old. Scarred, and with one flipper missing its tip, it moved ever so carefully towards them, its soft song weaving around Virgil’s.

Until their brother suddenly stopped singing.

There was no holding back Scott any longer and as one, he and Gordon pushed through the short distance between them and Virgil and swam up either side of him.

The whale ignored the intrusion and continued to advance until it was only a handful of metres away, its gnarled rostrum hovering level with the three humans.

Still singing ever so softly.

And Gordon turned to find Virgil crying, eyes closed, tears running down his cheeks.

-o-o-o-

He was young, ever so young and the sea so vast. His mother kept him safe and sung the world for him. They flew together following the ancient trails, accompanied by history and the learning, the old and the young creating and maintaining the knowledge.

He was young, ever so young and the land was so vast. His mother kept him safe and explained the world for him. His family followed tradition and their culture just like all the other families who lived here. He learnt the ways and contributed to his community as he grew.

She was gone. The red of death. The loss of song, of reality. His flippers stroked through the water where she had been and his heart broke.

She was gone. The white of snow. The loss of her voice, her music, her guidance. His fingers scrabbled through the cold ice where she had been and his heart broke.

He grew into the song and became a keeper. He spread the knowledge, saved the dreams and taught the young.

He grew into a man and became a saviour. He did good and saved all he could, but he was still young.

He lost so many. So many melodies torn from the song, voices silenced, young and old, family…

He watched his brother break. An explosion and another loss as bitter as the ice. Words lost their meaning. Only music could speak…

The song fractured.

So many colours, so much emotion. Love, sorrow, endless ages.

History.

Grief.

Beauty.

And a single question.

Why?

-o-o-o-

Part 12

[sweetpickolwarrior]

The Three Times You Didn’t Want Them To Hear You, The One Time You Did (Part 2)

Established fic

Small!Brown!Female!Reader

Not too apparent but just letting you know in case.

TW(for this chapter) - 3rd person descriptions of intoxication (mild?)

Fic summary: You have been travelling with geralt and Jaskier for quite some time, you had always been told that your voice would take you places before you had no choice but to abandon your previous life. You still loved it though. This fic explores the times you let go and let yourself sing.

PART 1 HERE

In the days that followed, Geralt had not mentioned the river incident during training. they never talked about the episodes. He had caught glimpses of you practising your sword strokes in the mornings, caught onto the way you counted your steps, moving with a rhythm that was rehearsed and almost musical. But combat was not like music. Far from it. you could afford to take your time and be meticulous when conducting your bow and arrow, however, swords were rarely so forgiving. You miss a beat, you die. Even so, he supposed, you were coming along well.

To say Jaskier was having trouble containing himself would be an understatement. He was practically bursting at the seams, wanting to hear the warm tones of your voice again. He had been told by Geralt that the alghoul hunt had shaken you, and understood how letting your voice free after Meletile knows how long would have felt. The yearning and relief in your voice had touched him in his bones and memories of performing for the first time after sickness, or a bout of dejection rang in his head. Though he supposed the longest he had ever gone without uttering a full bar would have been less than a week. He wondered how hard it must be for you to keep your passion locked away, suppressing it if you felt in any way like he did when singing. He had met milkmaids with voices sweet as honey who could care less that they could carry a tune, tavern keepers with brassy voices thick and golden as the ale they served that only sung to watch the clock tick to close. But he knew you felt the sound you created cradle you, the way your eyes were closed, the glimpse of your wistful sways, basking in the safety of the melody you were singing, his only regret now being that he cut your comfort short.

You had been undoubtedly back to your usual, chipper self for quite some time now, and he reckoned that after almost two days of silence on the issue (prescribed by Geralt) you would be shifted by a little persuasion.

The bard began to strum a well-known tune, one he knew everyone on the continent had heard. One he often used to gauge where his pupils were starting in his single year at Oxenfurt. The unperturbed original version was chock full of melisma, dynamics, and sung in off-beats before being simplified for children to be taught in schools. This inevitably led to those children singing it in their playgrounds, and when these children grew, sung (in the loosest possible sense of the term) in pubs late into the night; losing all semblance of its former beauty. the memory of the thudding, syllabic, droning chorus sung over and over made Jaskier cringe.

“Geralt, do you know this one?”

your ears perked up at the familiar words, but the melody was something more developed and bouncy, much more pleasant than the veritable chanting you had often been subject to when tucked away at the back of a tavern.

Jaskier’s voice flit about the words like a spring bird, you payed close attention to the way he controlled his breathing and projected so effortlessly, beauty added to the song you knew so well made you smile.. That is until you felt the bard jostle up to your shoulder, “surely you’ve heard this one, Y/N, come on, I could use a harmony!”

He continued, drawing out his vowels, giving you space to come in, but you shrank away. You knew that he would not have forgotten the unwelcome experience by the river, but you dared hope over the last few days.

“I dont know how to do that, Jask.” you muttered. He could sense that you had started to close up, but he felt some gentle coaxing and encouragement would bring you out of your sudden shell. Unfortunately, Jaskier’s definition of gentle when it comes to things like encouragement is about as akin to the word as a frog to a bird.

“Well, as you may know, I was a professor at Oxenfurt’s school of music, and I can assure you that within this very hour, we will be singing harmonies to make Meletile herself weep!  Here’s your note, young protege” He sang this last phrase, letting it ring so you could catch on. You attempted to shoo the bard away, pushing out a chuckle and putting on a polite smile so as not to offend your eager friend. It’s not that you didn’t want to sing with him, it’s just that… well, you couldn’t. You were no stranger to harmonies at all, being able to work them out for your small group of friends who would run off to sing behind the schoolhouse at every spare moment, the parts clicking neatly into your head like the nock of an arrow to the taut string of your bow.  You could almost see a harmony like a road winding along a melody and remembered the warm resonant feeling when your voice blended with another perfectly, listening as if you were one entity, blindly trusting your voice to take the right path. Over the last few years, one of your frustrations had been that while traipsing over the continent on your own, singing had kept you somewhat sane, it just irritated you that you could hear a lovely harmony along in your head, yet you could not sing two parts at once. You supposed you really did miss it. Maybe-

These thoughts must have passed in a flash as right then, Jaskier was hooking his arm through yours quite alarmingly, his step falling into a lively jig;

Somehow he kept his breaths even and the sound still flowed out, unobstructed, while you were pulled harshly out of your thoughts.

"Jaskie- hey, hey! Stop! I don't know what you're talking about, okay?" You shook the bard off, not meaning to come across as harsh, but you couldn't help it. He shrugged off your rejection and marched off, no doubt to prod at Geralt now.

You didn’t want this to be a thing. You had been without singing for quite some now and were sure that you could live without it. You had people who cared about you again. Jaskier would give you the food he left over, let you borrow his blanket when you were cold, he would always try to be making you laugh and would pick you flowers from the paths you walked. Geralt would always look back to check how you were, he let you ride roach when you were on your bleed and your legs felt they were going to fall off, he was a veritable wall when it came to standing between you and danger.  Why would you need to sing to yourself like you were still a child? It was time to move on. That couldn’t happen if you started going along with Jaskiers sudden obsession with being a duo. It was soon to blow over you were sure. Just have to wait it out.

You lagged slightly behind and listened from a distance. You let yourself focus on the thought of having some proper food and a warm bed soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Geralt’s shoulders dipped slightly as the three horseshoes tavern came into view, the amber glow spilling out of the windows to the dirt street softening the nip of the brisk night. He pat roach on her shoulder as they neared the front of the tavern, leading her to the right while Y/N and Jaskier made their way into the warmth of the tavern, the stables waiting for the chestnut mare. He led her into the small pen, dismissing the stableboy with a wave. He proceeded to check the bedding was dry as roach set to touch the nose of the horse in the next stall. He slowly undid the buckles of her saddle and undid her reins as she took a long drink from the trough within the stall. He had become fond of this tavern during his travels, watching it grow from a horse stop to a pub and then an inn over the many years. The swell of the chorus to "Toss a coin” gushed through the walls and Geralt knew he was to be greeted with an uproar when he entered. He let his mind drift as he pulled out Roach’s brush.

He wasn't to keep Y/N waiting very long, but he thought she may appreciate a moment to herself. He let his mind wander a little as he brushed roach before leaving her for the night. He had noticed how Y/N would clam up at the mention of her accompanying Jaskiers musical endeavours. He wondered why as, as far as he could remember, her sound was not unpleasant at all. He remembered the way she had snatched herself away from the conversation earlier, holding onto her arm like she was cradling herself. Geralt picked up little signs of discomfort in his… well… friends, he supposed.

Jask would become less verbal and more softly musical, he would hold his lute, often slung on his back when not using it, to cradling it around his front, as if constantly mid-song. Y/N would let her thick hair down as if she could hide away behind it, hold her arm, and often trail a ways behind the two if they were on the path. She had taken to slipping behind him, actually, and ushering Jaskier to her side, using the broad witcher and her tall friend as a sort of wall between her and the world if they were places where there were people or if she felt one of her episodes coming along. Not many words were needed, to Geralt’s convenience when it came to things like this. He was glad that the girl had taken to trusting him, though he still only knew snippets of her past. (Though he knew that a lot of her information on him had come through the bard’s songs.)

Still, there was a mutual understanding between the three that was pleasant and unperturbed. That was until Geralt had realised that she had effectively been shutting herself up when it came to singing. He didn’t see why it was such a big deal if he was honest. Jaskier certainly wasn’t afraid of it. He had observed over a great any years people who would hum to themselves while working, walking, and the like. Ladies in brothels and pubs warbling over the bustle, even if they sounded more akin to banshees than sirens (that some would claim to share blood with, for extra coin) mothers singing to their children out before their houses… in fact… if he tries quite hard, he thinks he recalls a soft melody… something with long, sad words in front of a wooden arm chair, fingers running through his then... brown curls, he thinks.

Roach has had enough of a brushing.

He makes his way into the tavern, the smell of ale, sweat and stew making the air thick and heavy. A swell of patrons surrounding the table Jaskier was is currently perched upon raise their tankards in his direction “WOOIIIIII(WAHEEYYY)”. He urged the corners of his lips to a slight curl and gave a nod in their direction. The Trio’s arrangements for the night had not yet been set as geralt harboured all the coin for the moment. He would have to keep Y/N waiting a moment longer.

After the alghoul hunt, geralt had a hefty jangle in his coin pouch, initially from the coin of slaying the beasts, then some more due to the fact he had been able to sell some marrow at the same market he had got the apples from Roach.

He paid for two rooms that night - a room with two beds and a room with one. He felt that it would be nice to treat Y/N with a proper dose of privacy through the rocky last few days.

The trio usually bought a room that had two beds and took turns sleeping on the floor. Geralt rarely slept, opting to meditate instead and when he did, he insisted that he had never been used to the softness of a bed, and it was enough that he was out of the cold and rain. This had led to many occasions where he might not have paid for a double bedded room in the first place, the youngest of the three ignoring him and placing her bedroll over the floor that he would be forced to take the bed, the witcher stubbornly placing his bedroll on the other side of the room that she would wake up during the night and take the bed, and sometimes Jaskier joining them on the floor simply because he enjoyed “camping indoors”.

Making his way to the back of the tavern where Y/N was, he heard the opening notes to “toss a coin” once again, he supposed that they would toss more if the bard subject was within the room. He caught Y/N eyes, reaching to finally unbutton his dark cloak, she had reserved a relatively secluded booth at the back of the tavern, her bag strewn over the table as to show she did not want company, her arm draped over her drink and her eyes… glassed over?

“Geralt! Come sit… there’s space”

She tugged lightly at his sleeve as he came to sit down resting her head on her arms atop the wooden table.

“We came here to eat and sleep Y/N”

“But you and Jask drink!” she whined “Besides’ve only had one… pint… before this one...yeah”

In the few months they had been together, Geralt had never seen Y/N drunk, she would often help Jask nurse his drink if she hadn't any water left from her pack. Even after a successful hunt, she would turn down Geralt's offers of buying her a pint. He always thought it was because she had never actually been drunk, it would have made her extremely vulnerable travelling alone all this time, and he figured that she had not done so around him because she was afraid of what they may think of her, what she may be like, the net removed to catch her thoughts. Needless to say, he did not expect this tonight.

“ Y/N you’re barely five foot and you’ve eaten what today?”

“Hey! I’m almost five foot two, andI’vee eaten just about enough of Jask’s horseshit about singing to last me a lifetime”

So that’s what this was about.

“Hmm...he thinks you sound good. Do you want meat or potatoes?” he tread lightly.

“M’not hungry. I dont sound anything. I haven’t sounded anything for ages.”

“Hmm”

~~

The girl nibbled on a few potatoes from Geralt's plate, electing to ignore her bowl of meat, now leaning back, clutching her tankard close to her chest. Odd.

Jask had taken to playing toss a coin in an insatiable loop, the patrons of the Three Horseshoes not seeming able to get enough, the clink of coins coming in a wave every chorus -

“He wipe out your chest… something.. Pest.. friend of humaaanity.. Hmm hmm hmm rest…”

Y/N’s eyes were closed, a soft smirk on her lips as she leant back in the booth, her voice trailing along the words of the song haphazardly still sounding...nice. Geralt decided not to comment, the song having a somewhat fresh flavour coming in clumsy slices from his smaller companion.

“Pour him some aleeee... ” geralt was fast to react, catching the girls wrist, the drink sloshing over the side of her mug.

“Let’s go up.” he’d had enough of the bloody song for about three lifetimes.

He ushered Y/N through the tavern, her pack slung over his shoulder. Jask caught his eye as they were walking slowly through and he was...glaring? Geralt was just about done with indecipherable emotions and was glad he’d get a moment to himself before the bard came up to their room if he had not chosen to go and chase some poor lass.

Geralt was practically pulling Y/N up the stairs as a mother cat does a kitten, her feet all but failing her on the creaky wooden steps

“Harmnising.. Mmmfghsnn cocky...teach me...I can bloody harmonise.. din’t evennn go to ..to Oxenshite…dn’t need to be bloody taught..mmff”

“You sound nice.” geralt had certainly let his tongue loose tonight; it seemed fair as he wasn’t sure how much Y/N would even remember and that she had also let her voice loose before him, if not completely of her own volition.

“m’not nice geralt.. ’ve killed people.. Let people die-”

“You have your own room tonight.” he hastily added, he did not need her mind wandering down that path in this state. Gods, he knew it would be a hole to climb up out of especially if she were to spend the night alone. Maybe he would take the room, perhaps it was a mistake to-

Y/N’s weight had shifted into his side “you’re nice.. Jask can pay for my druddy blinks..his fault ‘nyway..druddy blinks”

They had finally reached the room, Jaksiers voice floating up towards them

“Lovely ladies and gentlemen, I believe we have had enough excitement for the night - a final round of applause for our dear protector!  A soft ballad now, ladies and gentlemen, to ease us into this splendid night”

Geralt pushed the flimsy door open (he was glad to be just next door) and Y/N practically threw herself onto the bed, letting out a sigh.

“I know this one” she mumbled, legs still dangling onto the floor, eyes closed.

The witcher set her pack down at the foot of the bed and went to shift her so she could get under the covers as she started to sing along, loose ribbons of sound falling in a pleasant heap. Again, he decided not to comment, drinking in the sound to make up for having to be the only one dragging through this night completely sober. Her voice lingered on the notes a moment more than they fit, words being replaced by simple mm’s until a soft burst of a familiar phrase came through. She sighed as the covers of the bed rest just below her chin, he could still see her foot wagging along to the ballad as he clicked the door shut.

Finally sitting in front of the fire in the room he would be sharing with the troubadour, he started to meditate, focusing on the wood beneath his knees, the warmth on his face, and the thrum of the voices below and beside. There had been a shift - Y/N was no longer walking along the same note as Jaskier, her voice was gliding somewhere lower, the sound slightly more deliberate than a moment before. The unsteadiness he heard in her voice reminded him of his first swordstrokes after wintering in Kaer Morhen. Hesitant, yet sure. Afraid he had forgotten everything yet trusting his muscles to carry him. He could not decipher the words from her mouth, but every note, however wavering and reluctant fit with the clear bright sound of Jaskier beneath. The witcher felt he could hear the lumber of the tavern resonate with the emulsion of the two, he let out a deep breath, almost feeling the wood curve to him.

~~~~~

In the lower half of the Three Horseshoes, Jaskier had watched till the pulsing crowd before him grew sparse as he announced his wind-down. It was a good night for coin on his part, and he could've made even more, singing out till the sun broke through the wee hours or the innkeep shooshed him away. However, he wished to retire with the rest of his troop. Especially since he was to give geralt a hearty piece of his mind when he arrived. This town had clearly seen much of the witcher over the years, pleasant mumblings with Geralts name instead of witcher and butcher had littered through the tavern when they entered. Rare, but welcome. They even cheered him as he came through the doors!

The muscle memory of his calloused fingers started to fade as he neared the end of the song, added a few musings of his own since he could not entirely remember the lute score, he landed gracefully on a perfect cadence, his voice waning away.

There were 4 people left before him now, a young couple, nuzzling at each other in a close booth, the innkeep and a young maiden sat cross legged well nigh his feet. He figured he would have chased after her was this some other night, her pretty blonde curls cascading past her shoulders. However, the bard needed questions answered and his bones ached from sleeping out in the cold for the better part of a week.

“Ladies and gentlemen” he started, hushed, much less declarative than earlier on “it has been my absolute pleasure” he held his hand out to the girl on the floor and raised her up, planting a feathery kiss on her fingers “to sing for you tonight”. He straightened himself up and strode out the room, not turning to see the remaining patrons’ reactions to his somewhat hasty departure, however much he had tried to wrap it in a neat bow.

He passed the stairs in a flurry, and spotted a room with the door ever so slightly ajar, Geralt’s way of showing him what room they were in, had he not the chance to disclose. Jaskier figured Y/N would be asleep by now, and so his anger would have to be quite silent. Since seeing geralt lead Y/N up, he had felt the red hot emotions bubble up inside of him, however much he hid behind soft songs, words and kisses.

“Geralt! What the fuck!” his whisper harsh and piercing “she sang?! She was singing?! Next to you! What did you say? What did I do wrong? Answer me geralt or I swe-”

“Listen” the witcher's amber eyes met him with a cool gaze as Jaskier then realised that Y/N was not to be seen in the room. His mind slowly registered the single word and the bard perked slightly when he heard a soft, round sound seeping through the wall.

“She said she knew the song. The last one.”

Jaksier hastily pressed the side of his head against the wall, soaking up the sound.  She was winding somewhere around the chorus, not all the words present.

“she was singing with you " the witcher still knelt with his eyes closed “lower than you but.. Together”

Jask's eyes widened slightly as he began quiet ministrations to relieve himself of his lute for the night, still keeping his ear tuned to the soft hums next door.

“Harmonies?” he asked, praying Geralt may spill a bit more.

“I know nothing of music bard… but it fit. Well.”

“I still don’t understand where this came from, Geralt.” Jaskier thought she didn't even know the words to Toss a coin, but as he glanced over to the farthest corner of the tavern that night whilst atop a table, he was sure that Y/N lips were moving in unison to his, Geralt sat beside her, almost ignoring her it seemed. It just made no sense to him. Perhaps he had pressured her with mentions of his academic endeavours? Geralt exhaled audibly through his nose as his mouth twitched upwards. His version of a chuckle Jaskier supposed.

“She’s drunk”

“D-drunk? Very drunk?? Gods - I know I upset her a few days ago, but today I tried - that is-”

"It's not you, Jask" a breathy laugh followed "she tried to throw her mead at me thanks to your ditty"

"Yes well, I suppose that is one way to take it" Jask smiled as he slipped under the covers, noticing that the sound next door had slowly crept away. "She's sleeping?"

"Hmm."

The men continued in hushed whispers, Jaskier coaxing the haps of the night from his friend like he would the events of a hunt he was not present for. Geralt entertained him, somewhat grateful that the story he was entrusting was not to do with monsters, blood or death this time.

~~~~

The morning was crisp and light as you woke to a quiet, empty room. Your brows furrowed as your head felt heavy against the pillows. You rose, a bitter taste lingering upon your dry tongue, seating itself at the back of your throat. You didn't mean to get drunk last night and it wasn't what you expected. You tried to push your thoughts to the back of your mind and made your way hastily to the stables, grabbing your pack trying to ignore the churns in your stomach.

The morning sun flared in the clear sky, the cold air still and electric. You squinted until the canopy of the stables sheltered you. You greeted Roach, kissing your hand and giving a rub above her nose, the mare huffing in response.

"Good morning Y/N" you heard Jaskiers voice, hushed and deliberate and turned to see him holding a small wooden cup of tea

"Chamomile. It will help."You sipped on the tea, sweetened with a little honey leaning against the wall of the wooden structure.

"Where's Geralt?" You felt how raspy that would have come out had it not been for the few sips of tea.

"On the look for some contracts, I suppose. A nice town, this. Good coin. Oh! Here,"

He handed you a heel of bread, soft and fresh smelling.

"Thank you, Jask."

He shuffled over to you, shoulders now touching

"sweet tea and sweet bread, young miss. Cure of all cures. Trusty after unruly nights at Oxenshite"

Hazy glimpses of a low rumbling voice, swathes of people chanting a song, warm covers and your own voice swimming amongst all these scenes.

Oh good grief.

Your eyes widened at the unorganised reflections, you thought people drank because it actually helped things. Gods, never again."I- uhh.. need to see geralt about… swords." You stumbled away hearing Jaskier chuckle warmly to himself.

A/N

Hey ya'll thank you for being patient with me I know it took ages and this is literally the last day of the deadline I set for myself a fortnight ago 0_0 but I really hope you're enjoying the story far! Thank you so much for the notes on the last chapter I haven't published any stories in a very long time and it's nice to know I can still write lol. Reblogs, comments and criticism are very welcome! Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in further chapters/stories and if you have any tips on adding tags and things i'd love to hear them as I'm still trying to get the hang of navigating Tumblr as a writer again it's changed quite a bit lol. Thank you again and chapter 3 will be on its way!

mwah x

tagged people

@ladylizzieofdarbyshire

PART 3

[blu3mila]

PUSHIT

it’s a song by Tool that i’ve been sitting with for a little over a month now, wanting to say something. tried it in several ways and decided on a post overview, so here comes a stack of thoughts.

my first go at it was a painting. it came from scrambling, a part of the song that stuck with me from the start:

“You're pushing, and shoving, and scrambling To keep my feet flat on the ground”

i painted it, painted what sounded exactly like scrambling, like a shuffle, like kicking with enough desperation for it to land on something, anything. didn’t post.

i thought of Children next: ”We Will Adore Our Children“, a text i published last November. the concepts that i wanted to pinpoint with it got shown, but i know i mostly i skirted along the edges there. a conversation i had about that work left me with a phrase that i’m still carrying now: “a backdoor for disgusting”. the vital subtlety of handling certain topics.

i didn’t want anything readable and i didn’t publish my first painting. i reread Children. i felt, once again, the funny kinship, closeness, understanding, dialogue with another piece.

“And if when I say I might fade like a sigh if I stay You minimize my movement anyway I must persuade you another way”

it’s comforting to find something to relate to especially if it’s this specific, and it’s heartbreaking to not really, actually have a human connection with that. some sad isolation. i wrote this text.

i adore what the song accomplishes in its 10 minutes. there’s a repetition that links the whole story, the song starts with it:

“I saw the gap again today”

a scene that gets mentioned three times, three times that can be compared. the first one carrying the setting tone, “how things are”. the second one:

“I'm slipping back into the gap again”

escalates. still the same, the same familiar scene, but this time it just so happens to grow into an outward fight. the way the music supports this feeling is what hooked me in the first time: it feels and sounds like a fight. no break in the middle, it keeps going and going till it ends and leaves you to pick up the pieces. 

then picking up the pieces… no time is wasted here. it could be called a moment of quiet on which to build a climax, something to contrast with and… yeah, but what i adore here is the way it plays into the concept as well. putting this quiet passage right after a fight; it feels like a journey, the one that is made with one’s feelings. yet another “this can’t go on like this” but here it somehow actually leads somewhere. very hollow, tired out stating of the facts:

“You put me somewhere I don't wanna be”

coming to the first conclusion:

“Never want to see that place again”

notice how the music changes through this, how the tone changes with this conclusion. how the tone stresses that it is a conclusion, a decision made. good or bad doesn’t even matter comparatively, what matters is that it is change. something to move from. something that promises that the next time you see the gap, you’ve already given in to something, accepted that it won’t stay the same. then it comes the third time:

“Saw that gap again today Managed to push myself away And you, as well, my dear”

how the music comes with, how it sounds joyous, how it feels almost excited to do something different, something new, something that isn’t repeating the same old rotten pattern. when the next phrase comes sounding like a prayer, it delivers the cemented decision: 

“And if when I say I might fade like a sigh if I stay You minimize my movement anyway I must persuade you another way”

what gets to me the most here is the wording: it’s the “if” that i didn’t even notice the first couple times around.

i can’t tell if it really is that big or if it’s something subjective, but… it seals the deal for me. it’s written with so much awareness of how these things go: it makes the whole passage a logical argument.

it’s not “you do this and that, and i need to do something”. it’s not, because really, what does it matter if “you do this and that”? you’ve done it forever and i’ve taken it before, i don’t “need” to do anything. see the pattern? see how easily it slips away, the sympathy for the self? the hint of an idea that you don’t “need” to take it?

this is what the “if” changes, though. it frames the whole thing as an argument, as a logical conclusion, as a fact. and feelings and personal needs don’t matter, but facts can. this is how you trick yourself into bettering the situation, you say: “IF you do this and that regardless of my plea, THEN i do something”. it’s a subtle little thing in the wording but presenting it as an “action and logical, planned response” rather than “action and my reaction, my, god forbid, feelings” is what sells to the mind that is used to coping with an inescapable situation. or previously inescapable. it’s nothing factual, nothing actually different in the meaning behind the packaging of words, but it’s how convincing, proving things to yourself can be.

whatever, there goes the revelation! it’s sung, it resonates and rises above the gloom and the rot, and does so in a beautifully realistic way: not by anything kind and loving but by admitting that it’s all about pushing and shoving and pushing.

it is dear to me how this idea is directly faced, how the song breaks out into something living, colourful, pushes through with survival. how the shape that this survival takes is violence.

“Remember I'll always love you As I claw your fucking throat away” 

how anger is a sign of healing. how anger is a fucking sign of healing. this concept keeps blowing me away still.

i love understanding what has pained me in the idea of “acceptance, forgiving and moving on”: it’s the fact that often enough people skip the anger in the process. no, people expect others to skip the anger and that skewers the whole thing, turns it into a different beast altogether. 

going from a place of being hurt, having that hurt, internalizing that hurt and the reasoning for it… what would happen if the anger stage was skipped? if you were told “forgive them and move on, it’ll be easier” without having first reached the anger, the stage where a person realizes that the whole experience was, like, no-go?

possibly there will be no realizing altogether. outwardly or inwardly, the blame will stick and be the main feeling behind the experience. it will be internalized with nothing to balance it out. it will be cemented in the shape of the one that hurt, but it will no longer be a separate being, it’ll live in you. anger is the barrier, the understanding that it has never been even, that one side fucking HURT the other. whether it ever gets to peace with the other is not even that important, peace with self is. switching the self-blame for anger is, any day.

i believe the song celebrates it, but most importantly, it shows how it is a cycle. now it’s in you, the pushing and shoving, now it’s the first response to anything remotely resembling a threat. it’s the price, no, not price, it’s the consequence of having made it out.

i love how this song has the whole journey in it. i love this song, i love it as an art piece. i love how the concept for it was put together with the medium, how it managed to say all that and make it feel like what it was saying.

i also love that the theme goes through the entire album and other songs add to the picture. if “Pushit” shows coming into anger/survival, then “H.” definitely addresses the cost of that reaction. and it does that with so much empathy that it breaks my heart a little. but yeah, the struggle goes on and whatever, there are like other Tool albums out there…

[olivinesea]

All Your Life

a/n: My attempt at an apology for the bad things I last did to Hotch. Inspired by @yourlocalheartbreaker always going on about Hotch being able to sing (a pleasant thought). ~1.3k

Just Jack & Hotch at bedtime.

It was his favorite time of day, the sun finally set and things moved slow. But not late enough yet to feel the anxiety that came with not sleeping, the early hours where he knew he was doing something wrong by being awake. No, now it was just the gentle moments when everything had finished and children were safely in bed. There was nothing left to do but find some soft place to lean into and maybe get lost in a book. It was the time when he could just appreciate that he’d made it through another day, without having to worry about what the next would bring. A rare moment of peace.

He wandered through the apartment, turning off lights, triple checking locks. He paused in the kitchen to wash the few dishes from their meal of macaroni and broccoli. A corner of his mouth twitched when he thought about the horrified disapproval of his friends but Jack was pleased with it and that pleased him. He boiled water for some tea, Penelope’s assurances running through his mind about the wonders of herbal tea and the near-magical benefits it provided for bad sleepers. He cut the kettle off before it made enough noise to disturb Jack. He’d been having nightmares lately and Hotch wanted to make sure he got all the sleep he could. The last thing he wanted was for his son to develop the same poor sleep habits as him.

He walked quietly down the hallway, already anticipating the warmth of his bed. The mug was heating his fingers and the rest of his body was demanding its share. He slowed as he got to Jack’s door, debating looking in, one last confirmation of his safety. He knew it was irrational but he felt waves of fear whenever Jack was out of his sight for too long. The family counselor said it was normal, that it was only a natural result of the trauma and loss they had both suffered not long ago. Hotch wanted to believe that but the illogical nature of it, knowing there was no way his son was not in his bed where he left him less than an hour earlier, clashed with this creeping fear. He wanted to conquer it, deny its existence and it felt as if giving in, opening the door to quickly check, would only give more power to the fear. Like it would only reinforce the hyper-vigilance he was repeatedly told was unhealthy.

As he struggled with himself, his ears caught a small whimper. It took all his self control not to throw the door open, to jump to fight whatever was causing Jack pain. He knew that action would only scare him and was completely unnecessary, regardless of what the animal instincts raging through him were telling him. Instead he knocked lightly before turning the doorknob. It was dark except for the nightlight, casting planet shaped shadows low on the wall opposite the narrow twin bed. He could just make out Jack’s little form, curled up with the blue spaceship blankets thrown off, shivering slightly.

It only took two steps for Hotch to be at his side, setting the mug down a little too hard, making it splash on the bedside table. He sat on the mattress more gently, touching Jack’s shoulder.

“Hey, buddy,” he said quietly, “what’s going on?”

Jack sniffled as he turned his head over his shoulder to look at his dad, his little face reddened and wet with tears he’d been trying to muffle. Looking at him twisted Hotch’s heart, he was familiar with the desperation of trying to hide sadness, trying to be okay. He hated that Jack was trying to hide this from him.

“I miss Mommy,” the little boy whimpered.

Hotch felt his breath catch, the words sending pain shooting through all his scars, all the places where his bones haven’t quite healed.

“Me too buddy” he said sadly, rubbing small circles on Jack’s shoulder.

Jack started to cry harder so Hotch scooped him up and held him close against his chest. He bent down and kissed the top of Jack’s head, smelling the sweet baby shampoo Jack still used because Hotch was terrified of getting real soap in his eyes. He let him cry for awhile, feeling the tears dampen the fabric of his t-shirt. As he cradled his son on his lap, he wished things could be different. He would give anything to get Haley back. Not for himself, he didn’t deserve that, but for Jack to have all the love he was owed.

After a little while he asked, “Do you want to talk to her?” It had been a suggestion from the counselor—that they begin the practice of talking to Haley as if she could hear, that this could help Jack to feel connection to his mother. That it might make it easier for him as he grew up without her there.

But Jack shook his head, holding his hand against his mouth, crying more softly but the tears unrelenting. Hotch thought, running his fingers through the soft blond hair as he wished there was someone to tell him what to do.

“Do you want me to sing to you?”

Jack pressed his face into Hotch’s chest and nodded his head, making a small humming noise so similar to the one Hotch made it was impossible not to recognize.

Hotch closed his eyes and grasped at a song. Though he had no memories of anyone singing to him as a child, he did clearly remember Haley doing it sometimes when he had nightmares. When they were young and it was just the two of them in the world. Before the cases and the criminals and the fights and the silences. He never could have imagined then that what had come before would be simple compared to what came after. That one day, sooner than anyone could have predicted, it would just be him alone again, stumbling through the responsibilities of caring for the only piece of Haley left in the world. The only piece left because he had failed in every way.

He pushed those thoughts away, he’d come back to his long list of sins later. This moment was about Jack. He hesitated, it had been awhile since he’d sung anything, tried a melody more complicated than some mindless humming. This felt important. Jack was snuggled against him, hot breath steaming his shirt. Hotch adjusted them so his back was against the headboard, long legs scrunched onto the child’s mattress.

“Alright,” he murmured, “Mommy liked this one.”

At first his voice was unsteady, but as he got to the second refrain he’d found his place. His voice was deep and Jack was soothed by the vibrations resonating through his dad’s chest as much as he was by the sound of his voice. He’d fallen back asleep by the second time through the song, a limp weight, heavy on his chest. Hotch sang it one more time, quietly to himself, to Haley, remembering being in Jack’s position while Haley ran her fingers through his hair, chasing away his bad dreams with her sweet voice.

you were only waiting for this moment to arise

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, not ready to disturb Jack, though he knew he’d pay for it with a sore back in the morning. He gladly let the sleep creep past the edges and slide him into a dream where Haley was there, singing with them.

[tentimesthecourage]

Order Made

Summary:  On their journey, Rinku would sing for varying reasons To fill the quiet, to soothe Wild after he came out of a memory, or when he was feeling particularly sad Now on another journey, he tends to keep the hobby to himself, but he can't resist a request from his twin

"Really...?" Rinku gave his twin a look of faint frustration.

It was evening and the group had settled for camp. Whether going through their items, in quiet conversation, or (in Wild's case) getting dinner ready, everyone seemed mostly distracted.

Until Wild had signed a request to his brother.

'Sing?'

Rinku rarely raised his voice above a whisper since he woke up from his 100 year sleep. The only exceptions had been when in battle...

and when he sang.

It had been a hobby back before the Calamity, singing when he wasn't in training, singing when he and Wild were alone, singing when he tended to his weapons. There was always a song on his lips.

After they found each other, he found it was something that soothed Wild even if he had no memories of the times the slightly older brother had done so. The first time he had heard it in so long was after he came out of a memory. He was shaking and crying, unable to get himself to calm no matter how much he wished to. Rinku had pulled him gingerly into his arms, letting both of them sink to the ground as a soft, familiar yet unfamiliar tune carried from him, calming his trembles and allowing him to breathe.

It had been at least a month now, since he had sung. Clearly Wild missed it if his pleading look was anything to go by. A soft sigh escaped Rinku as he ran a hand through his loose for once hair. "Alright... alright... What do you want?"

'The first one that you sang.'

Ah, that one. He should have guessed. Lightly patting his thighs to focus himself, he took a deep breath.

"I think I must have been asked this once. Before I was born, by someone, somewhere. 'Choose one: the past, or the future, And I will allow you to see it. Which will it be? Which will it be?' "

His voice, though still soft, was louder than the rest of the group was used to, so it was no surprise when eight heads whipped to look at the two in surprise.

"Did you know he could sing?" Wind murmured to Four who was stock still.

"No..." The smith managed to whisper. So soft... gentle... and warm. Be still his beating heart.

"And I probably decided on the past. So that, rather than just strong, I could become kind, become kind. So that I could understand what memories are. Next, that 'somebody' told me this. 'I'll give you arms and legs and mouths and ears and eyes, Hearts and breasts and nostrils. I'll give you two of each one. Isn't that great? Isn't that great?' "

If Rinku noticed the stares, he didn't react to them. His gaze was half lidded as he stared into the flames. He still remembered the first time he sang this song. They were eight years old, his voice was too high and it cracked a lot. But Wild, Link, never teased him. He listened with the brightest smile. He cheered for him when it was over before taking his hand and pulling him home. He was so excited to tell their parents how nice it sounded, leaving Rinku red faced and hiding behind his hands with a squeak much to their parents' amusement. Their mother asked for him to sing it for them and bashfully, but gladly, he did so. The reception was even warmer the second time.

"But then I made a request. I said, I'd be fine with just one mouth. So I wouldn't argue with myself; So I could only kiss one person. I want to forget. But somehow, I can't. What do you call this kind of feeling?"

Wild's gaze flicked up to meet his mentor's, grinning at the surprised look in his eyes. He put a finger to his lips, asking them to remain quiet until the song was over and his grin widened as Twilight gave a small nod of acknowledgement. Glancing back at his twin, he noticed the far away look in his eyes. He probably lost himself in memory, which might be a good thing for now. He glanced back at the group and saw Four with a contemplative look on his face. Ah, so Rinku hadn't shared his hobby with him yet? He supposed his twin hadn't found the right song for him yet.

"Looking a little disappointed, The person continued with his explanation. 'The hearts are most important, So I'll put one behind each of your breasts. Isn't that great? Isn't that great?' 　 But, once more, I had a request to make. I'm awfully sorry, but to be honest, I really don't need a heart on the right. Sorry to keep troubling you like this."

Rinku's right hand lifted to rest over his chest, smiling faintly as he felt his heart beating gently against his fingers, as if keeping the beat of a melody only he could hear as he sang. His cheeks flushed faintly as he remembered what he had whispered to Link when they were teens after singing it when they finally had a break from the ridiculous training. Tired and achy, he gave a smile to his twin as he spoke.

When I sing this part... I imagine my partner. I don't know who they are or when I'll meet them, but I know I'll love them with everything I have. And I want to sing a special song for them.

Link had beamed and squeezed his shoulder, assuring him that whoever it was was going to be the luckiest person alive.

He wondered if Four felt like that...

"It's so that when I find that one special person, And hold him close to me for the first time, Only then will I finally be able to feel Two hearts beating, one on each side. The left one mine, the right, yours. The left one yours, the right, mine. So that alone, I'll always be lacking something. So that I won't be able to just go on living alone."

Four felt his cheeks flush lightly, absently mimicking the other male's motions as he rested a hand over his heart. He'd only admit this to himself (themselves), but those lyrics resonated his feelings all too well. Alone, well, as alone as he could be, he always felt like something was lacking. Something important was missing. Joining this group, the feeling had lessened, but it wasn't until they came to the twins' Hyrule... until they met them. Until he saw that tired but wide genuine smile that made his heart flutter that the feeling disappeared entirely. Honestly, he didn't know how he lived with that feeling for so long now that it was gone.

"I want to forget. But somehow, I can't. What do you call this kind of feeling? My chest is pounding, Yet somehow it seems familiar. What do you call this kind of feeling?"

This song had been the first thing he had sang to Link when they reunited. When he had come out of some memory that traumatized him to tears. He still didn't know what it was, never felt the need to ask. If he wanted to speak about it, he would, he knew that much. Simply talking to his twin hadn't gotten to him, so instead he started to sing softly, holding the other close and gently rocking them back and forth until the sobs had quelled to hiccups. It became his go to song to soothe him whenever a memory upset him beyond talking.

There were other songs he sang of course, but Link had bashfully told him that this one was his favorite. 'It's warm and familiar.'

"'Ah, that reminds me, there's one last thing. Would you like us to add in tears as well? You'd have no problems without them, But some people find them annoying, so they opt out. What would you like? What would you like?' In the end, I asked him to add them in. So that, rather than just strong, I could become kind, become kind. So I could understand what it means to hold something dear."

Link wasn't the only one who could be comforted by this song. On nights where Rinku felt the weight of their 'destiny', during times he felt alone despite his twin by his side, despite the new group of eight they had joined, despite finding love, when everything felt crushing around him, so much he nearly couldn't breathe. He would hum this song to himself until he was calm enough to sing. He was always quiet enough to not disturb anyone if he couldn't leave, otherwise he'd find a secluded area nearby and sing with nothing but the moon and stars to hear him. " 'Oh, while we're at it, the tears will need a flavor. So I'd just like you to choose which one you'd prefer. We have sour, salty, spicy, sweet. You can choose whichever you like. Which will you have? Which will you have?' "

Rinku could feel his eyes burn, his vision blurring as he reached up to rub at them. He could feel tears rolling down his face, his voice steady despite them. He felt a gentle hand on his free one and squeezed lightly in reassurance. He was okay, he was fine, he just forgot how much emotion was in this song. He wiped the tears away even as fresh ones fell. His eyes squeezed shut as a grin, wide, genuine and full of so many emotions even he didn't know them all formed. His volume raised just slightly, but held so much passion it warmed the hearts of all who were listening. "Everything was put together just as requested, So wipe those tears away and let me see your face. Come on, show it to me with pride!"

His voice softened again as he lowered his head, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his free hand. His heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, he wouldn't be surprised if it was audible to anyone else. The grin softened into a gentle smile as his shoulders slowly relaxed, practically sighing out the final words.

"Thank you so much for everything. Sorry to have caused you so much trouble. But could I just ask one last thing? 'Have we met somewhere before?' "

A small jolt ran through him as he heard clapping, eyes shooting up to see that everyone had their attention on him. He squeaked and hurriedly pulled up his hood with his free hand, realizing his other hand was being held by a gently smiling Four. A soft laugh escaped the smith as he reached to cup his flushed cheek, brushing away what tearstains remained.

"You should sing more often."

Four couldn't help laughing quietly as Rinku turned redder before hiding against the other hero as the rest of their group echoed agreement in varying ways.

[hlupdate]

Variety’s Grammy-nominated Hitmaker of the Year goes deep on the music industry, the great pause and finding his own muses.

“We’ll dance again,” Harry Styles coos, the Los Angeles sunshine peeking through his pandemic-shaggy hair just so. The singer, songwriter and actor — beloved and critically acclaimed thanks to his life-affirming year-old album, “Fine Line” — is lamenting that his Variety Hitmaker of the Year cover conversation has to be conducted over Zoom rather than in person. Even via videoconference, the Brit is effortlessly charming, as anyone who’s come within earshot of him would attest, but it quickly becomes clear that beneath that genial smile is a well-honed media strategy.

To wit: In an interview that appears a few days later announcing his investment in a new arena in his native Manchester (more on that in a bit), he repeats the refrain — “There will be a time we dance again”— referencing a much-needed return to live music and the promise of some 4,000 jobs for residents.

None of which is to suggest that Styles, 26, phones it in for interviews. Quite the opposite: He does very few, conceivably to give more of himself and not cheapen what is out there and also to use the publicity opportunity to indulge his other interests, like fashion. (Last month Styles became the first male to grace the cover of Vogue solo.) Still, it stings a little that a waltz with the former One Direction member may not come to pass on this album cycle — curse you, coronavirus.

Styles’ isolation has coincided with his maturation as an artist, a thespian and a person. With “Fine Line,” he’s proved himself a skilled lyricist with a tremendous ear for harmony and melody. In preparing for his role in Olivia Wilde’s period thriller “Don’t Worry Darling,” which is shooting outside Palm Springs, he found an outlet for expression in interpreting words on a page. And for the first time, he’s using his megaphone to speak out about social justice — inspired by the outpouring of support for Black people around the world following the death of George Floyd at the hands of Minneapolis police in May.

Styles has spent much of the past nine months at home in London, where life has slowed considerably. The time has allowed him to ponder such heady issues as his purpose on the earth. “It’s been a pause that I don’t know if I would have otherwise taken,” says Styles. “I think it’s been pretty good for me to have a kind of stop, to look and think about what it actually means to be an artist, what it means to do what we do and why we do it. I lean into moments like this — moments of uncertainty.”

In truth, while Styles has largely been keeping a low profile — his Love On Tour, due to kick off on April 15, was postponed in late March and is now scheduled to launch in February 2021 (whether it actually will remains to be seen) — his music has not. This is especially true in the U.S., where he’s notched two hit singles, “Adore You,” the second-most-played song at radio in 2020, and “Watermelon Sugar” (No. 22 on Variety’s year-end Hitmakers chart), with a third, “Golden,” already cresting the top 20 on the pop format. The massive cross-platform success of these songs means Styles has finally and decisively broken into the American market, maneuvering its web of gatekeepers to accumulate 6.2 million consumption units and rising.

Why do these particular songs resonate in 2020? Styles doesn’t have the faintest idea. While he acknowledges a “nursery rhyme” feel to “Watermelon Sugar” with its earwormy loop of a chorus, that’s about as much insight as he can offer. His longtime collaborator and friend Tom Hull, also known as the producer Kid Harpoon, offers this take: “There’s a lot of amazing things about that song, but what really stands out is the lyric. It’s not trying to hide or be clever. The simplicity of watermelon … there’s such a joy in it, [which] is a massive part of that song’s success.” Also, his kids love it. “I’ve never had a song connect with children in this way,” says Hull, whose credits include tunes by Shawn Mendes, Florence and the Machine and Calvin Harris. “I get sent videos all the time from friends of their kids singing. I have a 3-year-old and an 8-year-old, and they listen to it.”

Styles is quick to note that he doesn’t chase pop appeal when crafting songs. In fact, the times when he pondered or approved a purposeful tweak, like on his self-titled 2017 debut, still gnaw at him. “I love that album so much because it represents such a time in my life, but when I listen to it — sonically and lyrically, especially — I can hear places where I was playing it safe,” he says. “I was scared to get it wrong.”

Contemporary effects and on-trend beats hardly factor into Styles’ decision-making. He likes to focus on feelings — his own and his followers’ — and see himself on the other side of the velvet rope, an important distinction in his view. “People within [the industry] feel like they operate on a higher level of listening, and I like to make music from the point of being a fan of music,” Styles says. “Fans are the best A&R.”

This from someone who’s had free rein to pursue every musical whim, and hand in the album of his dreams in the form of “Fine Line.” Chart success makes it all the sweeter, but Styles insists that writing “for the right reasons” supersedes any commercial considerations. “There’s no part that feels, eh, icky — like it was made in the lab,” he says.

Styles has experience in this realm. As a graduate of the U.K. competition series “The X Factor,” where he and four other auditionees — Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Liam Payne and Louis Tomlinson — were singled out by show creator and star judge Simon Cowell to conjoin as One Direction, he’s seen how the prefab pop machine works up close. The One Direction oeuvre, which counts some 42 million albums sold worldwide, includes songs written with such established hitmakers as Ryan Tedder, Savan Kotecha and Teddy Geiger. Being a studious, insatiable observer, Styles took it all in.

“I learned so much,” he says of the experience. “When we were in the band, I used to try and write with as many different people as I could. I wanted to practice — and I wrote a lot of bad shit.”

His bandmates also benefited from the pop star boot camp. The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members — Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles — each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond.

This departs from the typical trajectories of boy bands including New Kids on the Block and ’N Sync, which have all pro ered a star frontman. The thinking for decades was that a record company would be lucky to have one breakout solo career among the bunch.

Styles has plainly thought about this.

“When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band. ‘Don’t worry, everyone, that wasn’t me! Now I get to do what I really want to do.’ But we loved being in the band,” he says. “I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it.”

Indeed, during the five-ish years that One Direction existed, Styles’ schedule involved the sort of nonstop international jet-setting that few get to see in a lifetime, never mind their teenage years. Between 2011 and 2015, One Direction’s tours pulled in north of $631 million in gross ticket sales, according to concert trade Pollstar, and the band was selling out stadiums worldwide by the time it entered its extended hiatus. Styles, too, had built up to playing arenas as a solo artist, engaging audiences with his colorful stage wear and banter and left-of-center choices for opening acts (a pre-Grammy-haul Kacey Musgraves in 2018; indie darlings King Princess and Jenny Lewis for his rescheduled 2021 run).

Stages of all sizes feel like home to Styles. He grew up in a suburb of Manchester, ground zero for some of the biggest British acts of the 1980s and ’90s, including Joy Division, New Order, the Smiths and Oasis, the latter of which broke the same year Styles was born. His parents were also music lovers. Styles’ father fed him a balanced diet of the Beatles, Fleetwood Mac, the Rolling Stones and Queen, while Mum was a fan of Shania Twain, Norah Jones and Savage Garden. “They’re all great melody writers,” says Styles of the acts’ musical throughline.

Stevie Nicks, who in the past has described “Fine Line” as Styles’ “Rumours,” referencing the Fleetwood Mac 1977 classic, sees him as a kindred spirit. “Harry writes and sings his songs about real experiences that seemingly happened yesterday,” she tells Variety. “He taps into real life. He doesn’t make up stories. He tells the truth, and that is what I do. ‘Fine Line’ has been my favorite record since it came out. It is his ‘Rumours.’ I told him that in a note on December 13, 2019 before he went on stage to play the ‘Fine Line’ album at the Forum. We cried. He sang those songs like he had sung them a thousand times. That’s a great songwriter and a great performer.”

“Harry’s playing and writing is instinctual,” adds Jonathan Wilson, a friend and peer who’s advised Styles on backing and session musicians. “He understands history and where to take the torch. You can see the thread of great British performers — from Bolan to Bowie — in his music.”

Also shaping his musical DNA was Manchester itself, the site of a 23,500-seat arena, dubbed Co-op Live, for which Styles is an investor and adviser. Oak View Group, a company specializing in live entertainment and global sports that was founded by Tim Leiweke and Irving Azoff in 2015 (Jeffrey Azoff, Irving’s son, represents Styles at Full Stop Management), is leading the effort to construct the venue. The project gained planning approval in September and is set to open in 2023, with its arrival representing a £350 million ($455 million) investment in the city. (Worth noting: Manchester is already home to an arena — the site of a 2017 bombing outside an Ariana Grande concert — and a football stadium, where One Love Manchester, an all-star benefit show to raise money for victims of the terrorist attack, took place.)

“I went to my first shows in Manchester,” Styles says of concerts paid for with money earned delivering newspapers for a supermarket called the Co-op. “My friends and I would go in on weekends. There’s so many amazing small venues, and music is such a massive part of the city. I think Manchester deserves it. It feels like a full-circle, coming-home thing to be doing this and to be able to give any kind of input. I’m incredibly proud. Hopefully they’ll let me play there at some point.”

Though Styles has owned properties in Los Angeles, his base for the foreseeable future is London. “I feel like my relationship with L.A. has changed a lot,” he explains. “I’ve kind of accepted that I don’t have to live here anymore; for a while I felt like I was supposed to. Like it meant things were going well. This happened, then you move to L.A.! But I don’t really want to.”

Is it any wonder? Between COVID and the turmoil in the U.S. spurred by the presidential election, Styles, like some 79 million American voters, is recovering from sticker shock over the bill of goods sold to them by the concept of democracy. “In general, as people, there’s a lack of empathy,” he observes. “We found this place that’s so divisive. We just don’t listen to each other anymore. And that’s quite scary.”

That belief prompted Styles to speak out publicly in the wake of George Floyd’s death. As protests in support of Black Lives Matter took to streets all over the world, for Styles, it triggered a period of introspection, as marked by an Instagram message (liked by 2.7 million users and counting) in which he declared: “I do things every day without fear, because I am privileged, and I am privileged every day because I am white. … Being not racist is not enough, we must be anti racist. Social change is enacted when a society mobilizes. I stand in solidarity with all of those protesting. I’m donating to help post bail for arrested organizers. Look inwards, educate yourself and others. LISTEN, READ, SHARE, DONATE and VOTE. ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. BLACK LIVES MATTER.”

“Talking about race can be really uncomfortable for everyone,” Styles elaborates. “I had a realization that my own comfort in the conversation has nothing to do with the problem — like that’s not enough of a reason to not have a conversation. Looking back, I don’t think I’ve been outspoken enough in the past. Using that feeling has pushed me forward to being open and ready to learn. … How can I ensure from my side that in 20 years, the right things are still being done and the right people are getting the right opportunities? That it’s not a passing thing?”

His own record company — and corporate parent Sony Music Group, whose chairman, Rob Stringer, signed Styles in 2016 — has been grappling with these same questions as the industry has faced its own reckoning with race. At issue: inequality among the upper ranks (an oft-cited statistic: popular music is 80% Black, but the music business is 80% white); contracts rooted in a decades-old system that many say is set up to take advantage of artists, Black artists more unfairly than white; and the call for a return of master rights, an ownership model that is at the core of the business.

Styles acknowledges the fundamental imbalance in how a major label deal is structured — the record company takes on the financial risk while the artist is made to recoup money spent on the project before the act is considered profitable and earning royalties (typically at a 15% to 18% rate for the artist, while the label keeps and disburses the rest). “Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music,” he says. “There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change.”

By all accounts, Styles is a voracious reader, a movie lover and an aesthete. He stays in shape by adhering to a strict daily exercise routine. “I tried to keep up but didn’t last more than two weeks,” says Hull, Styles’ producer, with a laugh. “The discipline is terrifying.”

Of course, with the fashion world beckoning — Styles recently appeared in a film series for Gucci’s new collection that was co-directed by the fashion house’s creative director, Alessandro Michele, and Oscar winner Gus Van Sant — and a movie that’s set in the 1950s, maintaining that physique is part of the job. And he’s no stranger to visual continuity after appearing in Christopher Nolan’s epic “Dunkirk” and having to return to set for reshoots; his hair, which needed to be cut back to its circa 1940 form, is a constant topic of conversation among fans. This time, it’s the ink that poses a challenge. By Styles’ tally, he’s up to 60 tattoos, which require an hour in the makeup chair to cover up. “It’s the only time I really regret getting tattooed,” he says.

He shows no regret, however, when it comes to stylistic choices overall, and takes pride in his gender-agnostic portfolio, which includes wearing a Gucci dress on that Vogue cover— an image that incited conservative pundit Candace Owens to plead publicly to “bring back manly men.” In Styles’ view: “To not wear [something] because it’s females’ clothing, you shut out a whole world of great clothes. And I think what’s exciting about right now is you can wear what you like. It doesn’t have to be X or Y. Those lines are becoming more and more blurred.”

But acclaim, if you can believe it, is not top of mind for Styles. As far as the Grammys are concerned, Styles shrugs, “It’s never why I do anything.” His team and longtime label, however, had their hearts set on a showing at the Jan. 31 ceremony. Their investment in Styles has been substantial — not just monetarily but in carefully crafting his career in the wake of such icons as David Bowie, who released his final albums with the label. Hope at the company and in many fans’ hearts that Styles would receive an album of the year nomination did not come to pass. However, he was recognized in three categories, including best pop vocal album.

“It’s always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff,” Styles says. “I think it’s important when making any kind of art to remove the ego from it.” Citing the painter Matisse, he adds: “It’s about the work that you do when you’re not expecting any applause.”