#he would daydream about Willow listening willow

[sweetiehyuka]

Sweet Creature - Choi Yeonjun

♡

Warnings - sub!yeonjun, gn!reader, dom!reader, sex in the forest/in a field, reader misleads yeonjun a little, light degrading, dacryphillia, penetration without protection mentioned overstimulation, pet names, fluffy ending

wc - 2k

Note - i couldn't resist my beautiful pixie boy in the daydream teaser <3 listen to ceilings by beabadoobee whilst reading this i promise it will be even better if you do

♡

This forest was like your home. Your feet knew this soil better than they knew any tile or carpet, and your skin knew this sunlight better than any artificial lamp or lightbulb. You were familiar with every tree, every flower, every little creature that lived here too.

As you wandered, the smell of dry grass filling your nostrils, you came across a creature that’s rare to spot here. Another human. A boy, to be exact.

When you found him, he was sitting in a patch of grass with his back turned away from you, eyes shut and head tilted up towards the sky. His torso was bare and his blue jeans sat low on his hips, allowing you to eye the curve of his hips and the line of his body perfectly. His skin was tan and looked impossibly soft. Maybe it was just beads of sweat, but you swear you could see specs of glitter sprinkles across his neck and back. He looked delectable.

This happens often. Pretty boys come wandering in here, not realising exactly how big the forest is, and not realising that there’s another, very hungry, person waiting to whisk them away and show them heaven.

As soon as you saw him, you wanted to have him. And have him you would.

♡

When you step towards him, some leaves crunch beneath your feet, startling the boy. 

You just stand there, still, the sun washing over you like a spotlight. You attempt to look demure and innocent, hoping he would trust you enough to talk to you.

The boy stares right back at you, hair fluttering in the breeze, cat-like eyes narrowed and focused.

“Hello?”

So, he speaks. 

As his lips move, you swear you can see sunlight glide across them, the pink of their plush flesh matching the little spots of sunburn dotted around his t zone.

“Hi,” you reply, edging closer to him, smiling. As he watches your lips curl up into a smile, a hint of confusion flashes over his eyes, making him look even more delicious than before. “are you lost?”

You can see the cogs turning in his head as he decides what to say, and you assume he’s deciding whether to be truthful and say he is, or lie to protect himself. After a few seconds, he responds.

“Yeah, kinda…”

You smile softly, hiding your intentions.

“I know my way around here well. I live nearby, so if you’d like, I can help you get out.”

His eyes light up at your offer, and you have to stop yourself from giggling over how cute he is. You hold your hand out to him and he takes it, looking up at you with a sense of fondness. 

This was gonna be easier than you thought.

♡

For about fourty minutes now, you have been leading Yeonjun through the forest. Unbeknownst to him, you had been leading him deeper and deeper inside rather than towards an exit like you had promised, as you had a certain spot in mind you wanted to take him to. It was a small field of daisies situated in a circle of willow trees ; the thought of him on his back beneath you, pretty face headed by a crown of daisies, blades of grass stuck to his soft skin, lit your stomach afire and made your desires grow stronger.

The journey had been mostly made in silence, only a few sentences of small talk and queries about directions struck up now and then. You tried to keep walking one or two steps behind him so you could admire him as he walked.

Finally, you arrive at the field. The boy gasps, tracing his fingers long the leaves of the willow trees as he walks through them, clearly not knowing whether to focus on the beautiful flowers he was walking through or the large, drooping trees that surrounded him.

“Pretty, right?”

He nods, still a little awestruck.

“We can rest here, if you want?” you propose, internally pleading that he’ll take you up on the idea. Without a second thought, he skips out of the shade of the trees and right into the middle of the small field, smiling back at you and holding his arms out . You have the urge to skip too, but you still want to keep up your facade of purity, so you decide to traipse over, wearing a shy smile on your face.

You both take a seat in the grass, and you can’t help but to stare at his lips, only now just noticing exactly how plush and kissable they look…

You can’t wait any longer.

You begin to lean in, parting your lips, but when he flinches away, you immediately pause.

"W-what are you doing?"

Feigning innocence, you shuffle back slightly.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You just look so pretty-"

"You don't even know my name..."

You cock your head back slightly.

"I don't need to know your name to want to kiss you, angel."

A blush creeps onto his face at your sudden shift in confidence. He can’t hide that you’re exciting him, so you take the hint that it’s most likely fine to continue trying to seduce him.

"Like it when I call you angel, huh?"

He nods, smiling sheepishly. You kiss him on his red cheek, causing him to hide his face in his hands. He's so cute, you feel like you're gonna explode. 

When he looks back up at you, something in the atmosphere shifts. The giddiness in his eyes turns into some kind of longing as they look up and down the line of your body, staying on your lips for a beat too long. This time, he moves in to kiss you, and you happily oblige.

♡

For around fifteen minutes, you make out, and it only takes around two minutes until you start feeling at each others bodies. The boy’s desperation is very clear to you ; from his furrowed brows to his little whines to his growing hard on, his body is giving you many signs that he definitely wants you too. 

“Wanna take this a step further?” you whisper, lips brushing against his ear, his hair tickling your cheek. He nods.

“I-I’d like that…”

You giggle at his cuteness, then instruct him to take off his jeans, and that he does.

Nothing even has to be said to the boy ; he just lays down, already submitting to you before you have to instruct him to do anything. Gazing down at him warmly, you move to straddle his tummy, the squish of your thighs against his slender waist feeling heavenly. As you take in the sight beneath you, your breath hitches. This is exactly what you wanted. The dreamy boy’s skin glows in the sun, almost like a heavenly aura, and the daisies above his head are in the shape of a ring, almost like a halo. Angel really was the right nickname to choose for him, because that’s exactly what he is. A pretty little angel.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

The boy nods eagerly, eyes clouded with lust. You pet his soft hair then lift yourself up onto your knees, shuffling back a little bit in the grass so that you’re hovering over his pretty cock.

Of course, you weren’t going to give him what he wanted that easily.

You reach down and take his cock into your hand. You give it a firm squeeze and he whines, just like you wanted. You jerk it slowly, smirking as he babbles under his breath. 

“Don’ tease me, please…” he whispers, but you just shake your head - a wordless sign that you’re gonna do whatever you damn please, and he’s going to take it.

After a few minutes of teasing the boy with slow strokes and harsh squeezes, you finally lower yourself down onto his tip, grinning wickedly as he arches his back and cries out.

"P-please! More!" He yells, his nails digging into the flesh of your hips. You giggle, gaining great satisfaction when he pouts.

"Don' mock me..." he mumbles, blinking back tears.

"How could I resist?" you say, tone laced with venom. "You're too easy to mock."

Before he can open his mouth to retort, you slam down onto his dick with a feral groan, revelling in the way his eyes squeeze shut and his head curls away from you. You pay no mind to the stretch ; the heat of the sun mixed with the burn in your groin makes you even hornier than you were before. On top of that, the boy looks even prettier than before with tears clumping his long, pretty lashes together. Not hesitating for a second, you grab his face and turn it towards you.

"Look at me,"

The boy whines, not opening his eyes. You grip his cheeks tighter, pushing his lips out into a pout and bringing his blood to the surface of his skin.

"I said look at me, slut."

At the insult, his eyes fly open, and you feel his dick twitch inside you. Chuckling, you let his face go, and his mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

He's about to say something, but then, without warning, you start moving your hips. And fast, too. As expected, he mewls, arms spasming and legs kicking. Between moans, you laugh. He's so fucking pathetic, and pathetic boys are so damn hot. You grind faster, placing your hands on his torso, running them over the expanse of his chest and the pudge of his tummy. As expected, his skin is the softest you’ve ever touched ; you feel like if you prodded it hard enough it would just tear, and the thought of this beautiful boy bruised and broken through the means of your fingertips makes you rut harder, moaning deep and loud. 

♡

Needless to say, you didn’t go easy on the poor boy. By the time you were done with him, he was panting on his back, near passing out from overstimulation and most likely also heat exhaustion.

Now, he was laying in your arms, cuddled into you. The two of you enjoyed your post-orgasm glow in silence, enjoying the peaceful sounds of nature, the heat of the sun, and the warmth of each other's bodies.

After fucking him, you had plucked a few daisies and woven them through his soft-but-sweaty locks, so now you were twirling the petals between your fingers, careful to be gentle so you didn’t accidentally pull a hair and hurt him.

“You’re not just gonna leave me here, are you?” he mumbles. He doesn’t sound too worried ; for some reason, he really does seem to trust you. How adorable.

Usually, you really would just… leave them there. Sometimes you wouldn’t even make the boys cum, you’d just chase your own high then leave them empty handed. But this boy was different. You couldn’t put your finger on why. He just was.

After kissing him on his forehead, you respond,

“No, little angel.” you press another kiss to his forehead. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

“Yay,” he whispers, a hint of giddiness in his voice. Smiling, you squish your cheek into his forehead, the sound of his lazy giggles making your heart warm. 

Maybe, just maybe, you wanna keep this one.

♡

[xzinbdg]

boynextdoor as songs from my playlist!

ᯓ★ sungho

daydreamin' - ariana grande

this song just feels like sungho! and he definitely got me daydreaming about him 😭😭😭

you're here that's the thing - beabadoobee

i have this habit of looking for sungho when there's all six of them like he just catches my eye easily

les - childish gambino

"baby you're the baddest" and damn right he is! sungho is one of the prettiest men i have ever seen 🥹 yeppi indeed 🤭

ᯓ★ riwoo

get into it (yuh) - doja cat

i honestly could watch riwoo dancing for 24/7 it's so good like get it babe!!! slay the dance floor!!!

darling - taeyang

are we surprised? this song is his atp everytime I hear it i just hear his voice 😭 drop the full cover pls

nervous - the neighborhood

idk what it is about riwoo but he makes me immensely nervous 😭 like i don't think I would ever be able to look this man in the eyes....

ᯓ★ jaehyun

mamacita - chase atlantic

the vibes!!!!!! this song is so myungjae coded!!! honestly i can see him listening to it!

standing next to you - jungkook

again are we suprised? this man takes being a jk stan to another level 🥹 and his cover was so good oh lord

monster - lady gaga

"he ate my heart" he ate not only my heart but also every stage he's been on 😋 but he really is like a monster the way he keeps coming for my heart and bias line

ᯓ★ taesan

blue monday' 88 - new order

especially this version of this song is so taesan! like the little guitar funk added to it 😩 god i love this song

alien blues - vundabar

I can see taesan making a song like this one! not only the beat but also the lyrics are so his style

t r a n s p a r e n t s o u l - willow, travis baker

taesan where's the cover??? like pls i would love to hear him cover this song 😭

ᯓ★ leehan

turn it up - pinkpantheress

"hey it's me, we've been talking twice a week" like the song gives me big leehan vibes 😭

art - tyla

hes the art here let's be honest.....and i totally see him being a muse to others not only in the art of painting 😌

fabulous - nimstarr

this whole song screams leehan to me!!!! like the lyrics, the beat, and nimstarr's voice is so leehan like wtf

ᯓ★ woonhak

go (xtayalive 2) - kanii

GO! JUST GO!!! it's so unagi! even though he hates acting cute to me it comes naturally for him 🥹

yale - ken carson

i feel like this song is kinda his style...like he definitely would listen to it and vibe 😌

nightclawler - travis scott, swae lee, chief keef

"young, free and wildin'" YUPPPP!!!! this song just comes to mind with woonhak and no one else for me!!!

boynextdoor masterlist

[wrennyfics]

hi here is a list no one asked for with a bunch of songs that make me think of severus and why 🐍

1. forwards beckon rebound

: makes me think of old sev reflecting on young sev and the bullying/trauma he endured

2. willow by taylor swift

: whole aesthetic is supposed to be witchy, gathered with a coven making a love potion, just feels very sevvy

3. dark paradise by lana del rey

: the lyric “but i was i was dead” directly correlating to the sevs line “i wish i were dead” from Deathly Hallows

4. vigilante shit taylor swift

: morally grey, ethically ambiguous, secret agent vibes

5. i hate it here by taylor swift

: about escaping a place that sucks, makes me think of sev telling lily all about the magical world and how hogwarts will be different

6. the prophecy by taylor swift

: literally about BEGGING to change the prophecy, wanting to be loved, the line “gathered with a coven round a sourcers table”

7. whos afraid of little old me taylor swift

: about acknowledging your cruelty/flaws, but knowing that you were made that way

8. seven by taylor swift

: just reminds me of sev and lily and their childhood, how it was an escape for both of them

9. look after you by the fray

: about finding comfort in someone and willing to do anything for them, comfort daydream is imagining him listening to this and thinking about u 🤭

10. francesca by hozier

: actually all hozier songs tbh. this one is about francesca from dantes inferno, about being like “i would literally go through hell again just for you”

and yes. theres more.

[joonkorre]

likened to a deepsea diver

@drarrymicrofic prompt: travel

Harry spot Malfoy standing outside an H-E-B, watched him frown squinty-eyed and ruddy-cheeked under the mid-July sun as a little, equally-as-blond girl tried to climb into his shopping cart. That was 15 years after the war. But this isn't about that. This is about Willow City Loop. Or, a tentative love letter to Texas and the places there that I’ve never been. AO3

Draco sits with his feet up on the dashboard. It’s all kinds of dangerous and not something Lyra should see and learn from the backseat, but Harry only taps on the steering wheel, quiet. Just two years ago, Draco would never be caught dead like this, loose-limbed and soft in a cotton T-shirt. Harry’s cotton T-shirt. Lyra, too, would never let herself be in an enclosed space with another man who wasn’t her father. The both of them, pale and gaunt, were a sobering sight to witness. Unreachable in their posh accent and eccentric traditions and constellation names. But Lyra had let out a giddy “oooh” when Harry invited them to this weekend trip, and Draco had laid a gentle, callused hand on Harry’s shoulder, peeking at the worn map and the line of red marker to their destination. And so Harry signals right and merges into 87, hoping that the guidebook was right.

It was not.

“That’s a lot of people,” Draco says, craning his neck this way and that to look at the traffic ahead. “I thought we arrived early?”

“Guess everyone thinks so too,” Harry bites back a sigh. He’s not even holding the steering wheel at times, just tap-release-tap-releasing the brakes into a crawl.

“Do you reckon I can sit over there for a bit? By the big tree?” Lyra asks. Harry almost can’t hear her above the constant drone of engine and honking, but Draco does and whips around in his seat. In the back, she has rolled down the window and poked her head out.

“Sit down, Lyra, for Merlin’s sake,” he scolds. “You’re gonna get your head chopped off.”

Jesus, Harry thinks, a startled laugh almost escaping him as he watches them.

“That’d be fun, wouldn’t it?” the young girl says, now with her elbows on the window sill. “Like in that movie you didn’t let me watch.”

“Yeah, and you watched it anyway. No library trip for two weeks.”

“What the hell!” she shouts into the watercolour meadow. Probably because she can, and probably because it’s funny. Harry does laugh this time.

Draco’s head tilts toward him, light eyes almost transparent in the morning sun.

“Do you mind stopping the car? I have to go feed her to the bisons or—whatever it is that you raise in Texas.”

Harry shrugs. “The closest bison ranch I can think of is, like, 30 miles away. That’s a long walk.”

“Damn,” Draco frowns as though truly disappointed, then he shifts around again. “Lyra, sit back down. If you really get your head chopped off, I’m gonna sick up all over the dash and it’ll be disgusting. Save me from the indignity.”

One car honks, then another. Harry jolts, turning to see a swath of empty road in front of him. He lifts his foot off the brake, letting it move at a safe enough speed for a little girl with half her body hanging out of the window.

“Lyra,” he raises his voice. “Listen to your dad and get back inside. Now.”

A second of silence, then shuffling. Harry makes sure Lyra is pulling her torso back in using the rearview mirror, and she sits down with a thump. He lowers his gaze to the road, rolls up the window, and accelerates.

“The drivers are nicer today than usual,” he says after a minute or so. “They normally wouldn’t let people dawdle for that long.”

“I only listened ‘cause Dad likes you,” Lyra says at once, picking up her book. That’s Lyra Code for being done with her shenanigans for the day, and she’d like to sit daintily in her daydreams now, thank-you-very-much. A regular southern belle, her, and she was born in Ashford too.

Draco scoffs and looks out the window, face fully hidden from Harry’s angle. “Christ…”

It’s so childish, this ache in his chest. There’s an equally as intense ache on his face, stretched into a grin that feels instinctual, a base response etched in his genetics, like something he has to apologise for and stamp down. Harry reaches over and finds Draco’s hand, curled stiff into a fist on knobbly knees.

But at Harry’s touch, it unfurls. One blink, and Harry has already intertwined their fingers in the next. He keeps his eyes on the road, not really needing to look at the bluebonnet after all.

“I know, hon,” he says. The hand in his tightens for a brief moment, like a warning or a message or an agreement. The sun only gets brighter. When they get back home—their home (theirs, theirs, theirs) with an honest-to-God white picket fence that Lyra had too much fun painting and that the HOA detests, as well as a pie on the kitchen window, one of many culinary experiments Draco embarks upon—they’ll have a lot to discuss. “I know.”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

hi lunaaa i was wondering if u could do a character mashup for harry potter marauders era?

i’m female she/they and i am bi

i’m black i have dark brown eyes and long lower-back length braids. i have a long head but really high cheekbones. i’m 5’3” (160 centimeter). i have a small frame and a larger chest. i loveee to dress super girly (almost cottagecore or coquette) but i often time time find myself looking and acting a bit masculine

INFP(MBTI) and 9w1(Enneagram)

quiet, reserved , very private and don’t like to open up to people until i know them VERY well, sensitive, emotional, empathetic, self-effacing, good at giving advice, listener, my friends are very loud because i am so quiet(ying/yang), daydreamer

i LOVE photography, i love fashion and bows, i love gold and pearled jewelry, i love cherries and any kind of pasta, billie eilish, singing, science, online shopping, stuffed animals, baking

i hate hypocrisy, i hate food waste, i don’t like confrontation or arguing, i don’t liek tomatoes, i don’t like waiting(impatient), learning history, the sun/bright lights bc i’m practically a vampire

i have a really messed up family and i’m terrified of losing relationships or people i love even though i feel like i am 24/7(attachment issues) 🙂❤️‍🩹 i also love fighting hunger and food waste

sry that was a lot

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

Before we dig into this one, I want everyone to hear me out. I am a massive fan of the opposites attract trope, which states that when you are with your opposite, you even each other out.

With that in mind, Anon, I pair you with------

James Potter

This man is loyal to a fault, has massive golden retriever energy, is a total hype king, and is a fantastic listener.

~~~~~ HEADCANON ~~~~~

When he first fell for you and tried to ask you out, you shot him down. I mean, he is a loud stereotypical jock guy.

This didn't stop him from asking all of your friends about you and learning about all your hobbies, likes, dislikes, and getting advice on how to be a better man for you.

He made it his personal goal whenever you were around to show that he wasn't always a loud, egotistical jerk.

When you finally gave him a chance, he pulled out all the stops. Not only did he take you to the nicest place in Hogsmeade, but he also took you to pick out all your favorite snacks and treats.

James loves all of your outfits you come out with, he is a hype king through and through. Though he keeps his excitement to himself when you are present so as not to embarrass you the minute you are not by his side, he is either telling his friends how cute you are or showing off the picture of you he keeps on him.

During a heated conversation between you and Sirius about Quidditch and how "a pretty girl" cannot play it, James took it upon himself to teach you.

You were surprisingly good at the game; he found it the most drop-dead gorgeous thing.

If his friends are being too loud and chaotic and he sees you getting uncomfortable, he will shush them down and change the topic to something you can join in on.

Man is convinced you are the woman he will marry, so he does everything he can to show you how much you mean to him daily.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

It was a lovely spring day at Hogwarts. With the year ending and summer break around the corner, everyone was so invested in finishing their exams. However, you can only do so much studying before you grow too bored. This led to you and the Marauders setting up a magic camera outside next to the Whomping Willow.

It was decided that you would pick everyone's outfits for the shoot, Lilly would do everyone's makeup, Sirius would knick the camera from his family home, and the other boys would convince the house elves to 'donate' some food for your afternoon out. Once everyone reconvened and got ready, the photoshoot could begin.

Picture after picture was taken, everyone goofing off and laughing at one another poses. Some photos were nicely done, whereas most were just you guys being goofy. As the photoshoot ended and your stomach growled, James walked up to you nervously. "Hey, Y/N, could we take a couple more pictures? Just me and you." You nodded eagerly and returned to the spot you were initially at. You heard a loud "Ready" from Sirius as you got ready to pose with James. As you turned, you saw James holding a big bouquet of flowers.

The photo that was captured was nothing less than ethereal. James was slightly bent while handing you flowers. Someone threw petals up around you two, and your smiles were infectious. Once Sirius had all the photos printed, this specific picture of you and James became the hallmark of your relationship. Not only because it was unique, but it's the only photo James will show to anyone willing to listen about his favorite girl.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(You and James were perusing around Diagon Ally. As you came across a new jewelry story)

Y/N: Oh, James, let's go in there. I bet there is something pretty I can match with my new outfit.

James: They have plenty of exquisite jewels for a reasonable price.

(you two looked around, and your eyes landed on a gold necklace with pearls sparsely through it. Though the tag was too much, and you began to walk out)

Y/N: ah, if only it was meant to be.

James: What, Y/N, you mean this? (James pulls out the necklace you were eyeing, placing it around your neck) Only the best for my love.

[genderqueer-hippie]

I was tagged by @ineffabildaddy to fill out a get to know you doodad so here we are! Thank you for the tag, I love these things!

Real name: Jasmine - I was named after my dad's favorite flower

Nicknames & origins: In high school I was called Raph (we assigned teenage mutant ninja turtles to each other like normal ppl) and Grandma (long running joke of our friends long story) Jael was my first one online, an alias back in my days of livejournal. Jay is the most common and I enjoy it because it's gender neutral and easy to remember.

AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatchouliDreamsForever/profile

Social media: this is the only place I am active

Pets: Oscar, Grace, and Bruiser. Not pictured is Buddy, a lab/mastiff mix

Hobbies: hiking, writing, foraging, camping, video games, reading, embroidery, cooking, other things that my noodle brain has forgotten

Personality: I tend to be more shy, especially in unfamiliar situations. I'm quick to be friends if I vibe well with someone. I tend to babble like a hamster on uppers when I talk about things I enjoy. Idk I'm just a super laid back queer stoner type (who is currently very stoned lol)

Fav holiday: I don't have a favorite, actually? I just enjoy the family time of a holiday meal together.

Fav food: edamame

Fav dessert: I'm a whore for gelato

Fav color: eggplant

Fav quotes: "But I digress..." is very relevant to my daily life

Fav books: The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, The Jungle Books, Fahrenheit 451, Good Omens, Wind in the Willows, I could go on but I won't

Fav TV shows: okay in no particular order, let the list unfold- Golden Girls, Buffy, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Interview with the Vampire, Willow, Good Omens, Staged, Our Flag Means Death, A League of Their Own, Torchwood,

Fav films: Lord of the Rings trilogy, The Birdcage, But I'm a Cheerleader, Funny Face, Charade, Princess Bride, The Blue's Brothers, Eyes Without a Face, Chicago, and so many more

Fav characters: I have so many!

Fav actors: currently all about David Tennant but Audrey Hepburn is always my go-to answer

Fav songs: Rhiannon Giddens is an amazing artist and everything I've heard from her is my favorite. I highly recommend Julie

Fav genre: I listen to so many things. I guess most listened to is blues and folk, but classical is another main staple of mine.

Fav podcast: I don't really listen to them tbh

Have you ever met a celebrity? Yes. Went to a Supernatural convention back in ...2013? Osric was running around the lobby in footie pajamas hanging out with everyone. I froze when Misha sat next to me at the cocktail party. I hugged Matt and he was super sweet. Karaoke was super fun. Ah, memories 😌

Have you ever been to a concert? Quite a few! I haven't been to one in a long time though.

Do you collect anything? I like rocks, books, physical media (CDs, DVDs, VHS), teas, wax seals and stationery

Idols? Idk that I really have an idol?

Is there a real life friend you can be yourself around? For the most part, yeah

Where would you love to travel? So many places. I haven't traveled far at all.

Random fact about yourself: when I was a kid I'd spend road trips daydreaming about running off into the woods and living a hermit life in a cave

This took longer than it should have but it was fun! I tag any of my moots that want to have an excuse to do it!

[whousesheartsanyways]

What do you think hunters favorite Taylor album would be? 👀👀

Woow. Such a great question! Actually, I have thought about this before.

Okay, so, I believe that for Hunter is impossible to actually pick ONE album as his favorite. He's an anxious person, and he switches from music preferences depending on how he feels, so I imagine it would be something like this:

When he wants to feel a little more like a teenager, he listens to 'Taylor Swift'. Singing 'Picture to burn' or 'You should've said no' to the top of his lungs is something that makes him feel strangely powerful. Plus, listening to 'Fifteen' makes him a little emotional.

For days when he wants to feel all badass, he probably listens to 'Reputation'. I can totally picture him playing shooter games and whenever he kills something, he goes "Ohh! Look what you make me do!" with a weird shoulder movement while shaking his head from side to side.

Cleaning days are always '1989' and 'Fearless' days. He does the dusting while dancing to 'Shake it off', or takes out the garbage walking backwards to 'You belong with me'. (Because then he goes back to the house at the beat of 'Ohh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night, I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're bout to cry -clap-clap'). However, he never listens to 'wildest dreams' if he knows he might get some company. He blushes too much at the song. That's the main reason why he only plays 'Lover' album at nights, after Gus is sleeping. 'Paper rings', 'Daylight', 'Cruel summer' and 'Lover' keep him daydreaming. It is too easy for him to imagine alternative universes in which he lives all those lyrics, always with the same person *wink wink*.

When he's starving happy stamina, he listens to 'Speak now'. He always leaves 'Mean' for the end, so he is full of himself when the 'but all you are is mean, and a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life, and mean' part comes and he feels it deep in his heart.

Hunter definitely listens to 'Red (Taylor's version)' when feeling melancholic. The first time he watched the 'All too Well' video (15-minute version), he cried. Gus and Willow found him an hour later checking on Jake Gyllenhaal's Instagram. He also uses the 10-minute version as a timer when he needs to do things quickly. He loves to listen to this album when sewing because the songs are like little stories he can picture as movies in his head.

When 'Midnight' album came out, Hunter didn't sleep. He spent the whole night listening to it, deciding which songs were his favorites. Still unsure, but his top three are: 'You're on your own, kid', 'Anti-hero' and 'Mastermind' because 'no one wanted to play with me as a little kid, so I've been scheming like a criminal ever since to make them love me and make it seem effortless...' ... I don't think it's necessary to explain why he likes it so much. *Fun fact, once, he was helping Willow to remove some undergrowth from Camila's garden and tiny little flowers popped up from the dirt. She explained that from what she had read, it was uncommon for those to grow and live without help. He used the analogy of 'Snow on the beach' and she beamed at him. Since then, it is also one of his favorites.

Anywways, I do believe with all my heart that Hunter discovered Taylor in her pandemic era. Plus, he's an indie soul, so he fell for her music when twinnies 'Folklore' and 'Evermore' came out. And those are his comfort albums. He listens to both of them once a week. However, once, while he was answering a survey for a random guy at the supermarket, this question came. He thought about it for a couple of seconds, then replied 'Evermore'. Gus, who was with him at that time, asked him later why (knowing that his friend is a massive swiftie nerd). Hunter blushed, then looked aside and said "I guess I just like the line-up".

If anyone reading this doesn't know what I mean, I cordially invite you to check what's the name of the first song in the said album. Then, you can draw your conclusions and understand why Hunter thinks being a swiftie is part of his fate and why he does so fondly think about the album as one of the most beautiful things in the human realm.

[pjunicornart]

Candy (Pasteltale Sans)

So I redesigned Pasteltale Sans! Of course, his narrative has changed alongside his redesign. Soooooo...

Bio: He's one of Rosey's scouts/children. He has a few siblings (Bubblegum, Cupcake, Rainbow, Pajama, and Studio), which he gets along with alright. He was going to have an AU of his own, but Rosey decided to repurpose him for a scout and son. Around his family, his name is Candy. But for others within the multiverse he scouts, he introduces himself as Pastel Sans. He has a heavy interest for eyes, and collects them.

Basic Info Nicknames: Eyes, Eyeball, Cheese (by Studio only) Age: 19 Height: 5'9" Gender Identity: Cisgender (male, he/him) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual, preference for masculine people Medical Issues: Allergy to Echo Flower pollen (rash), mild Anxiety Can't Leave the House Without: Axe, Snack(s), Phone + Charger

Relationships Rosey - Mother, very good Bubblegum - Sibling, they are the chaos gremlins Cupcake - Sibling, sometimes finds him annoying Studio - Sibling, good sibling energy Rainbow - Sibling, good Pajama - Sibling, older siblings gotta stick together

Powers Axe - He can handle his axe very well. Sometimes he can charge it up for a blast that strikes an enemy and knocks other enemies back away from him. Mimic - He can change his voice to sound like anyone, albeit for short periods of time (around ten minutes). Copy - He mainly uses this ability to find eyes to add to his collection. He can frame an object with his fingers, which will in turn give him his new copy. How long it lasts depends on what he frames. If it's a mortal, then the copy will last only for a little while. But if it's an object with no soul/sentience, then it will last until he destroys it. Cloak - Putting his hoodie up allows him to cloak until he puts his hoodie back down. This allows him to go by undetected if need be. Teleport - He can teleport on command. In worlds that aren't his own, it only works for short distances. Souvenir Eyes - As a last ditch effort, he can throw one of the eyes he has dangling from his axe at enemies. Since all of the eyes are copies, they can be destroyed with no repercussions, and therefore can explode and temporarily cause the enemy to lose sight of Candy.

Miscellaneous Little Facts - He mostly hangs around the Nerd and Jock Undertale AUs, because he has a crush on one of the Paperjams. He won't say which one, though. - He has a total of ten piercings, and he plans on getting more. - His favorite piercing is the coin slot piercing on his left horn. - He calls his axe "Willow" on occasion. - The bite mark on his arm is a battle scar from an AU he visited. - His favorite part of day is when he gets to shower and relax before going to bed. - He has gone on record saying that he hates the ocean because of those "big leviathan fuckers". - He found out he had an allergy to Echo Flower pollen the hard way. - When he watches TV, he tunes in to the Student's Echoes broadcast for Silent and Zommy Bear. - If he ever did ask out the Paperjam he has a crush on, he would probably fumble his words. Horribly. - He hasn't asked them out yet because he doesn't think he has a chance with them. - He snacks upwards to four times a day. - He's based off of the song "LOVELOVELOVELOVELOVELOVE" by Six Impala. - He'll take extra time out of his morning on weekends or out of his night for "private time". - He's prone to daydreaming about Goddesses know what. - He mostly listens to hardcore music, such as Gabber, Speedcore, Breakcore, etc. - HE HAS ONE WEAKNESS. ...it's brownies. He can't resist his mother's brownies.

(That's it! I'm still gonna tag this as Pasteltale because it's still the same character, and I wanted to allow people to see this before I change the tag. Because from now on him and everyone else will be tagged as "Rosey's Scouts". Check out the others, too.) Studio... Cupcake... Bubblegum... Rainbow... Pajama... Rosey...

[pxgeturner]

congratulations on 100 folowers, you deserve it!!! and i wanted to say that I LOVE YOUR BLOG. it's just so safe and calm, and cute.

could i get a "🌹give you roses " please ?

the fandoms would be avatar, stranger things, marvel and twilight.

so a little about me - i am a tall girl with a skin condition, and i do get insecure about it. i wouldn't call myself extroverted nor introverted, it depends on the day and the people i'm with. i LOVE the ocean. it's my safe place. AND THE NIGHT AND THE STARS. in luv with that. absolutely would like to go stargazing in the future. i'm a perfectionist. always have to do my best, no room for mistakes. i also luv reading and daydreaming, watching films and shows, listening to music, drawing, painting and singing.

bb, oh my you sound like the cutest thing !! 🫶🏽 thank you so much sunshine, i really am estatic!! so my next theme is gonna be a little more loud tho i think. might do a poll on it. thank you so much for ur submissions 🤭

JACOB JACOB JACOB

he’s really tall, 6’5 if i remember ? the cuddliest man ever. i think he would get along with everyone. overall hypeman for u. if your condition presents visually, he wouldn’t give a shit, he’s not one to be put off easily. he’d do all he could to help ease effects of ur condition however he could. like i said, hypeman, he’d kiss your insecurities away.

walks along la push would be so frequent. tbh he’s probably dunk you in the water, more that one occasion. jacob would help get urself out of ur head when your fixation on a project becomes unhealthy. he’d probably just walk up and take your laptop/project out of your reach (if it’s not something ge could move hell just pick you up). he’d also be so so down to just body double, you writing or drawing, him playing video games or smth. there’s never nothing for you two to do together stargazing in his backyard!!! bondfires!!! blasting music and dancing in the woods!!!! drive in movies!!!

willow’s picnic celebration! 🧺

[toomanybandstocare]

If a clone asked you on a date, who would it be and what would you go and do?

PFFFFFT - idk because i dont think i could actually pull one of the clones :') i would be too nervous and shy

one lil daydream that taking root (hehe no pun intended) is going to a walking garden with Kix. i think that since he's a medic, he'd be interested in natural remedies and home cures, so he spends time reading up on flowers and flora.

so I'd take him to a garden exhibit of flora from my home worlds, Naboo and Hoth. the first green house is darkened and kept at a cooler temperature. intricate root systems that survive cold weather no man could next to sea kelp that soothes soar throats in their glass cases. and in the next open air green house, crawling vines with tiny white flowers decorate the wall. lush palm leaves and vibrant flowers spurt up from the soil patches.

then we'd have a picnic curled up under a willow tree. i'd be tucked into his side, half sitting up half lounging on him, as he runs one hand up my side. i'd just listen as he excitedly talks about his discoveries and what he's read about. notebooks and pencils scattered on the blanket next to a basket full of cheese and fruit with juice.

i think Kix is a little nerd and i would listen to him talk about all his interests, because i don't think he opens up to too many people about them and want him to have a chance to actually express himself :')

[windy-babe]

I saw your "Hunter would listen to emo music from the 2000's in the human realm", i love him, he's cute, but have you consider my "Hunter totally would be a pathetic little swiftie"?

[messers-moony]

Secret Boyfriend | R.B

Paring: Regulus Black X Lupin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Keeping secrets seem to run in the Lupin family but one of the two twins has a bigger secret than the other can imagine. 

Pitter-patter could be heard inside the Gryffindor Common room. The Scotland weather never really seemed to make up its mind during the period between winter and spring. Nevertheless, it brought a calming atmosphere to the red and gold common room. The five Marauders sat in front of the fireplace, speaking to one another. Remus, Y/n, and Sirius sitting together on a couch. James on an armchair, and Peter sitting on the ground in front of the sofa. 

“So, Little Lupin.“ James drawled, “When are you getting a boyfriend?” 

Remus chuckled, quickly putting an arm around his twin sister, “Hopefully, never.” 

“Maybe I already have a boyfriend, and you lot just don’t know.” Y/n snipped as she elbowed her brother in the ribs slightly, “Oh, come on, paws!” James exclaimed teasingly. 

Paws was Y/n’s Marauder name. Her animagus was a Siamese cat, which resembled her personality quite well if you asked Remus. Y/n was quick-witted, independent, intuitive, curious, and affectionate when comfortable. She and Sirius were known to flirt all the time but recently - meaning a couple of months - they hadn’t done it at all. Perhaps Y/n was actually avoiding his flirtatious remarks. Nevertheless, Y/n’s animagus was a direct correlation with her personality. 

“Yeah, paws, you’ve been neglecting me recently. I’m not too happy with it either.” Sirius added with a fake pout, “Oh hush it, you two. Leave my sister alone. She’s got no hidden boyfriend.” Remus defended, looking at his sister. 

“Right, Y/n?” Remus coughed, and she jumped out of her daydream, “Mhm! Of course.” 

Conversation went on as usual. They began discussing new pranks, but Y/n’s jumper pocket felt heavier than usual, knowing what’s inside. It was a cream-colored envelope with the Black family crest as a seal. Y/n knew more than anyone that Sirius wouldn’t be happy to see the familiar logo, but this wasn’t from his parents. It was from his little brother, and Y/n was anxious to give it to him. So when James, Remus, and Peter went upstairs, Y/n pulled him aside before he could leave. 

“Padfoot, wait.” Y/n called, and he turned back, “What's up, paws?” Sirius queried, turning to face her. 

She sighed and pulled the envelope from her pocket, “Please, read this. It isn’t what you think it is despite the seal.” Y/n stated, handing him the parchment. 

“Where did you get this?” Sirius asked as he opened the packaging, “Regulus.” Y/n’s answer was firmer than expected. 

Nonetheless, the letter inside seemed essential to his fellow Marauder, so he opened it. Inside he was met with his little brother's prominent handwriting. The black ink treaded so seamlessly across the brown paper. Y/n remembered watching him write it at his desk, desperately trying to collect his thoughts while his hand shook relentlessly. She couldn’t do anything but sit from his bed and watch. Regulus needed to do this alone. 

After reading, Sirius slid the letter back inside its packaging, “Well, it’s his fault.” 

“Actually, it isn’t.” Y/n quipped, “Listen, Sirius, Regulus is trying. He really is.” 

“You would know this how?”

“Because we’ve been friends for a long time.” 

“Oh really?” Sirius questioned sarcastically, crossing his arms, “Since when did you and Reggie become so close?” 

“He began tutoring me in third year for Potions.” Y/n answered, “You couldn’t have asked Remus?”

“No. “ Y/n shook her head, “Slughorn wanted Regulus specifically.” 

“Well then. Full moon tomorrow, hope you’re prepared.” Sirius chirped as he began walking up the steps to his dorm, “I’m always prepared.” Y/n replied to essentially no one. 

She sighed. It was apparent Sirius didn’t want to believe what Regulus had written. It would’ve been hard on anyone. But Regulus wanted it to come from him instead of Sirius finding out. Since Y/n’s third year - Regulus’ second year - she felt attracted to him. He always made time for her. It wasn’t until their fourth year when she realized it. In her fifth year, they made it official. Regulus Black and Y/n Lupin were a couple but hidden beneath an invisibility cloak. 

Seventh year wasn’t easy. The upcoming war, her brother's lycanthropy, N.E.W.T.S, and Regulus getting the dark mark. Nothing seemed to be working in her favor. Books didn’t even seem to please her anymore. Her eyes wandered while she began to daydream about anything rather than reality itself. People began to notice how lost the girl appeared. 

Especially her brother. 

Study sessions with her weren’t the same. Some days her eyes would appear glossier than usual as if someone put a coating of lip gloss over them. Maybe they were rimmed with a pastel pink seeming tired and unhappy. The tremors in her hands were hard to ignore as she wrote with her quill. If there’s one thing Remus Lupin was good at, it was being observant; however, there wasn’t time, and he didn’t have the patience to deal with this right now. The full moon approaching meant that Remus’ patience tolerance was down to about none. 

There was one thing that brought her clarity. Regulus Black. The Gryffindor common room was always a warm and welcoming atmosphere. In contrast, the Slytherin common room was cold and damp, but it brought her comfort because of the person inside. Y/n padded quietly inside of his prefect hallway, which was beside the Slytherin common. She walked into his bedroom, which was dark. 

No candles lit. Just dark. Regulus always felt comfort in the dark, but it wasn’t dark because of that. It was dark because he was absent. Y/n peered over to his desk, where letters sat from his mother and some cousins. Andromeda seemed to try and reach him, but the letter looked unopened. There was one that caught her eye. It was Remus’ handwriting, and it was from him. It was also opened. Y/n knew she couldn’t stay all night. The full moon was due to rise in just two hours. 

Picking up the parchment, she began to read:

“ To Regulus Black, 

You need to step up. I get it. Sirius has been disowned, but he tries to make an effort. Can’t you see that? Sirius really needs you, and I know that you miss him too. This whole stubborn game of not wanting to talk to each other has gone on long enough. 

I know what it’s like to argue with a sibling, and it isn’t pleasant. Suck it up, swallow your pride and talk to Sirius. You don’t have to ultimately make up, but please, he’s trying. 

From, Remus Lupin. “

Y/n swallowed down her anger. Who was Remus to get involved in their affairs? If Sirius and Regulus didn’t want to interact, that was their problem, not his. It infuriated her. But she didn’t have time to babble around. Y/n pointed her wand at her and became a cat. Perks of her animagus being allowed at Hogwarts, she could roam around freely without suspicion. Quickly she sprinted down to the Whomping Willow, where she was met with her three Marauders in human form. Y/n transformed back. 

“Where were you! I was worried sick!” Remus scolded, “Nowhere, but we need to talk later.” Y/n answered. 

They got Remus in the shack and changed into their animagus forms. A stag, a rat, a dog, and a cat. The dog and the cat had the most interaction with the werewolf. Sometimes the dog and werewolf would cuddle up beside each other, whereas the cat would sleep on its own along with the other two animals. The following day Y/n and Sirius lugged Remus up to the hospital wing. Y/n sat beside him the entire time while the other three went off. Sirius and James were off to Quidditch practice. Peter was off to see his girlfriend in Hufflepuff. 

Y/n tapped aimlessly on Remus’ hand, “M- Morning.”

“Morning, Moony.” Y/n greeted, “How are you feeling?” 

“Phenomenal.”

“Sorry.”

“What did we need to talk about?” Remus questioned, and Y/n tilted her head, “You said we needed to talk before going to the shack.”

“Yes, I did. Um- uh- did you send Regulus a letter by any chance?” Y/n stammered, “I did. Why?” 

“I saw it.” Y/n replied shortly, “You saw it?” Remus repeated incredulously. 

She nodded, “How did you see it?” 

“Regulus and I are friends. Sometimes we hang out in his dorm.” The words seemed like nothing as they rolled off her tongue, “You hang out in the Slytherin dorms? Is that why you always know the password so we can do pranks?” 

“Of course.” Y/n chuckled, “I use my privilege to its advantage.”

Remus began to get up but grimaced, causing Y/n to jump up to help him. Gently she eased him to a sitting position. A new scratch on his cheek and multiple on his arms. It’s evident that the cat and the dog had to stop him. The thin scratches on his arms were a cat's nails. The thicker scratch on his cheek was a dog's nails. Remus looked down at his arms. 

“I’m sorry.” Y/n muttered, “Not your fault, paws. Who was it this time?” Remus asked. 

“Prongs. Apparently, you wanted Prongs.” Y/n answered, and he kissed the top of her head, “Thank you for stopping me.” 

“Anything for my brother.” 

“Just like anything for our Moony?”

Y/n laughed, “Yeah.”

Paws began to tap on his hand again, until a voice echoed through the hospital wing, “Y/n?” 

“Y/n?” The voice called again, and Remus quirked his eyebrow at his sheepish sister, “Y/n!” 

Suddenly a black-haired, grey-eyed, pale figure was beside her. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he had already kissed the top of her head worriedly. Y/n turned pink at the affection and the embarrassment of it happening in front of her brother. Remus coughed, and the male stood straight. 

“Regulus, what a surprise.” Remus retorted, “Didn’t think you’d ever visit me in the infirmary.”

“Remus, please-“ 

“I wouldn’t.” Regulus snapped, “Then why are you here?” Remus inquired. 

Regulus’ hand was playing aimlessly with the ends of Y/n’s hair, “Moony….” Y/n began at a whisper, “Regulus is my boyfriend.”

“This-“ Remus pointed at them both with a laughing smile, “Is funny.”

“Nice prank, paws, but it isn’t going to work.”

Y/n sighed, “It isn’t a prank, Rem.” 

“We’ve been together for about two years now.” She confessed, and Regulus stiffened, “Friends, my ass.” Remus scoffed bitterly. 

“Remus, please-“ Y/n began, “No, please just leave. We can talk about this later when I’m in the right frame of mind. Because if you don’t leave, now I might throw a punch.” Remus replied. 

She sighed and reluctantly left with Regulus trailing behind her. Y/n didn’t want to cry. It was pitiful. Regulus never had a good relationship with Sirius since Hogwarts, yet he didn’t seem to care. Thankfully, after building the Marauders Map, she knew every little crevice and hiding spot. Pulling back a tapestry, she sat down on the cement floor. Regulus doing the same beside her. Hesitantly he pulled his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. 

“This is pitiful.” Y/n chuckled bitterly, “I’m sorry, Reggie.”

“It isn’t pitiful. You and Remus have a close relationship. It’s okay to be sad about him telling you off.” Regulus replied, placing his chin on the top of her head, “Sirius and I are different. Don’t compare you and Remus with us.”

Y/n nuzzled into his chest, “I saw the letter Remus sent you.”

“I- I saw the way he spoke to you, and I’m sorry.” Y/n stated, “I hope he comes around.” 

“I do too, love.” Regulus kissed the top of her head, “ I do too.”

It was quiet for a moment until two figures pulled back the tapestry, “Oi! Get off, little Lupin!” James exclaimed, and Y/n sighed, “Sirius, James, please just leave.”

“What are you doing with my mate's little sister, Regulus?” Sirius interrogated, “Comforting her. She needs me.” Regulus retorted, tightening his grip on her shoulder. 

Y/n stood up and pulled Regulus with her, “Come on. We four need to talk.” 

The four of them walked into a broom closet. It was a quiet walk. Eerily quiet. It brought shivers down Y/n’s spine at how silent the walk was. The tension was so thick you couldn’t cut it with a knife. The pressure felt like sludge. It was thick and mush. But when Y/n opened the door, the lot of them walked inside. James and Sirius stared expectantly. 

“Regulus and I have been dating since my fifth year.” Y/n began, and Regulus intertwined their hands. 

“Little Lupin!” Sirius exclaimed, “You weren’t lying when you said you had a secret boyfriend!”

“You scandalous little thing!”

“I can’t believe this.” James stated after running his hand through his hair, “How did Remus take it?”

“Not very well.” Y/n replied, “He kicked me out of the hospital wing when Regulus showed up. “

“He’s- He’s not in the right mindset, though. He’ll come to. I know he will. He has to.”

Sirius’ eyes softened, “Moony will come around. It might just take him a minute.” 

“Regulus.” James called, and grey eyes stared at him, “Y/n is a Marauder.”

“I know that.” Regulus interrupted, “She is my little sister as much as she is Remus’” James continued. 

“And mine!” Sirius added, smiling brightly, “Y/n is our little sister. The lot of us depend on her. We can’t, and we won’t have her heartbroken.” James explained sternly, suddenly looking a lot like Mrs. Potter. 

Regulus’ cheeks flushed with pink, “I love her, I really do. I don’t plan on breaking her heart anytime soon.” 

“You’re gonna be my sister-in-law!” Sirius squealed, hugging Y/n forcefully, almost knocking her over, “Oh, little Lupin.” He cooed. 

“You’re all grown up!” 

They laughed, and Sirius kissed her forehead, “Take care of him, will you?” He whispered so only she could hear, “Of course.” Y/n smiled. 

“Alright, alright, I’d like my girlfriend back,” Regulus replied, taking her away from Sirius’ arms. 

Sirius gulped, “How’s mum going to take this, Reggie?” 

“I don’t care.” Regulus retorted, “Mums gonna have to deal with it.” 

The smile on Sirius’ face was brighter than the sun, “Oh, Reggie!” He wailed, pulling Regulus into a tight hug. 

The two brothers smiled as they hugged each other. Regulus sleeve slipped up, and James stepped back, pulling out his wand. The two Black brothers pulled apart, and that’s when Sirius saw it. The dark mark on his brother's sleeve. Y/n stiffened as Sirius lifted his sleeve up further to see it clearly. 

“Reggie…” 

“Sirius, please, I didn’t want it.” Regulus pleaded, “She- They- Please.”

James watched intently at them. Sirius’ eyes had filled with tears as he embraced his younger brother. For the first time in a long time, Regulus felt protected in his brother's arms. James walked closer and joined them. Hugging both Black brothers as close as he could. James Potter, the man who never stops giving. They pulled apart, and James took Reggie into his own arms. 

“You need anything, you come to me, okay?” James informed sternly, and Regulus nodded, “Ye- Yeah.”

“Remus and Y/n always come for the holidays. You won’t be alone.” James stated smiling, “My parents already have one Black; they won’t mind another.” 

The Black brother smiled, “Thank you….”

The days went on, and Regulus still avoided the Marauders altogether. Remus glared at him from the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Deep emerald green eyes were flashing at the grey ones that sat at the Slytherin table. Until Y/n jabbed him in the ribs, taking his attention away from the younger Black brother. 

“Remus.” Y/n scolded, “Stop it.”

“I think you’re too hard on him, Moony.” James began, “He loves your sister. Maybe talk to him.” 

“No.” Remus snapped, “You guys can accept this, but I can’t.” 

They didn’t push any further. Y/n and Remus had been distant from each other. It was weird to watch the twins who were typically attached at the hip to be so - abroad. Regulus didn’t like that he was now the cause of their fussing. After all, they were the reason Sirius and him were on speaking terms now. So Regulus and Sirius made a plan. It involved them being locked in a broom closet, and so it happened—one night after dinner. 

Remus was shoved into a cupboard, not by his own liking either, “Come on, Sirius! This isn’t funny. I have prefect duties to do!”

“Actually, someone else has taken them over.” Regulus informed, and Remus whipped around, “What are you two doing here?”

“Remus, explain it to me.” Regulus began, “Why you don’t approve of me with your sister.”

“Because! You’re a bloody death eater! You probably forced her to be with you.” Remus exclaimed. 

Y/n scoffed, “A pureblood forcing himself with a half-breed? Doesn’t seem likely.” 

Remus ran his hand through his hair, “Okay, he’s still a death eater!”

“I was forced!” Regulus exclaimed, “They strapped me to a chair and embedded the mark into my forearm. You don’t think I wasn’t thinking of her the entire time?! I was scared out of my mind!”

“The entire time, all I could think about was ‘How is Y/n gonna take this.’” Regulus admitted, “My heart aches for her. I didn’t want her to be scared.”

Remus’ green eyes turned soft, “Does she accept you? Does she love you? Do you love her?”

“Yes, Remus. I love him for who he is. James offered him a place to stay at the Potters.” Y/n replied, “And yes, I love her.” 

Tears filled her eyes, “Remus, please. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

Remus held out his arms, and she walked right into them. He placed one hand on the back of her head and one on the small of her waist. Holding her close to his heart, rubbing his thumb through her hair. Regulus’ grey eyes stared at the two siblings before him. Remus’ heart softened at his crying sister. He never wanted to hurt her, ever. 

“Paws.” Remus began as he pulled away slightly, “Does he make you happy?”

Y/n sniffled and nodded; Remus wiped her cheeks, “Okay.”

“Does he know you, for you?” 

“Mhm.”

Remus turned to Regulus as Y/n parted with him, “Where’s paws favorite place to be scratched?”

Regulus chuckled, “Behind her ears.”

“Take care of my little sister.” Remus pleaded, “Please, Regulus.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect any different.” Regulus answered. 

Remus walked forward and put out his hand. Hesitantly Regulus shook his hand. Grey eyes met green ones. Remus couldn’t help the smile that placed itself on his face. Without hesitation, he pulled Regulus into a tight hug.

“Take care of my sister, and I’ll take care of you.”

“Always.”

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

willow - S.B

evermore masterlist || champagne problems

Warnings: fighting, mention of sex, one night stands, unrequited love

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: you never thought that your best friend would ever fall in love with you but after you got into a fight for him, he realised that he did love you after all

A/N: This might be the worst thing I've ever written but I had to get something else for the first day of my celebration

Wordcount: 1.5k

You sat across from Sirius in the library, a place that he did not visit often and if he did, it was only because of you. He was recapping what he had just been studying, half talking to you and half to himself. 

You weren't really listening, instead staring at him. He was distracting to say the least. In the soft lantern lights of the library, it cast a warm orange hue on him that made you want to trace the faint freckles on his cheeks like the constellation he was named after. 

All you wanted to do was run your hands through his soft hair and just never let go. To you, he was a Greek Adonis that only Aphrodite was able to claim. 

You always wondered what he thought about you, whether you were the love interest in his story or just the friendly side character who never ended up with a happy ending. 

The world bent to his will, like a willow swaying in the breeze and he could pick any girl or boy in the school that he wanted because all of them felt the same. But when he would survey the area for tonight's moment of passion, he would never count you in. 

And the problem was that you were in love with your best friend, always had been and you worried that you always would be. 

Ever since you met him on the train all you wanted to do was show him that someone cared for him. As you learnt more about him, you began to fall and fall hard for him. 

So now it was your seventh and last year at Hogwarts and despite being head over heels for the man in front of you, you knew that if he had the pick of anyone at the school, you would not be the first choice.

You'd cared for him when nobody else did, when he was just a scrawny and grumpy first year and you cared when he was in fourth year and his parents abused him and you loved him even now. 

Even if it was wrong, you would have given him anything just for one kiss, to spend even just one night wrapped in his arms, allow him to wreck your plans just so that for a moment you could call him your man. 

You were cut out of your awful daydream by Sirius who snapped his fingers, waving his hands in front of your face. 

"Earth to Y/N, you good?" He asked as he saw your vacant and clearly distressed expression. 

So you put on a smile, nodding your head as you looked at him, "Perfect, now what do you want to study next," you said, taking your book I'm your hand. 

You had finished studying and the two of you walked out into the meadow and you listened to him talk. 

You loved how passionately he spoke about things and you knew that you would do anything for him. 

You would go in a heartbeat, the second he gave you that signal you would go with him, meeting him in the dark. You wouldn't even hesitate to do whatever he wanted because you loved him even though you knew it was wrong. 

You walked outside, the cold air from the black lake making a chill rise in the air. 

You looked over at Sirius as he talked, his hair blowing in the wind and you thought he was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. 

Then the peace and quiet the two of you had fallen into stopped and you heard a voice call out to him. 

"Sirius!" A voice called out and you both looked over to see his ex girlfriend Jessie, a ravenclaw girl. 

He rolled his eyes before walking over, going to talk to her. 

The girl had a wide smile on her face as she talked to him and you walked forward almost subconsciously

Your heart was breaking as you looked at him and Jessie, knowing that it was never going to be you. 

It was never going to be you that made him smile but then you saw the girls face turn sour. 

She seemed disgusted and he stepped away from her, holding his hands out. 

His head turned to look at you in a way that almost begged you to help and you walked forward. 

"Come on Sirius, you know that we had a good night, why not give it another go," The girl said, a smirk on her face as she placed a hand on his cheek. 

"Leave me alone Jessie, that was a mistake, I'm sorry," he said, turning away. 

"Really you blood traitor, you're gonna turn me down!" She yelled out after him as he began to walk away. 

You turned around, looking at the girl with a slight glare, beginning to walk towards the girl. Sirius watched her, never having seen the girl so angry before. 

"Why don't you just leave him alone Jessie," you said as you turned to her, trying not to say anything too drastic. 

She swore at you and you just scoffed. You don't know why this made your blood boil so much but the idea of anyone mistreating him made you angry. 

He was watching in shock. You knew he could handle it for himself but he wanted to watch as you stood up for him. 

Jessie stood there with her eyes wide, unsure what to do as you berated her about the way she treated him. 

As Sirius watched you yell at that girl, his face softened and his heart was lodged in his throat as he came to a sickening realisation. 

He loved you. 

And the feelings were so pure and all of a sudden he felt an overwhelming feeling of plain and simple fear. 

Scared that you wouldn't feel the same way towards him and that he'd ruin your friendship and fears that you would love him too and leave him just like everyone else in his life seemed to do

The realisation that he'd loved you for years finally sunk in. He loved every part of you, the good, the bad, the annoying, the hilarious.

He loved you when you would dance around the castle at night with him, your clothes soaked from the back lake and he loved you when you would prank Slytherin who made fun of you. 

He would love you no matter what and the idea scared him.

You knew that he hadn't had a good upbringing so the fact that he loved you meant that he had to overcome all of those issues he had from then. 

"Take my hand," he said, holding his hand out towards you. 

"What?" Both you and Jessuie said as you turned to look at him. 

Your face was bright red as you realised that you had gone a bit overboard in yelling at her and you were almost ashamed. 

But the soft and comforting smile on his face made all of your fears go away. 

He said your name, the words soft and calming as they fell from his lips and you took a step forward, taking his hand in yours. 

"Let's go, she's not worth it," he said and you had never heard Sirius speak to anyone like that. 

He wasn't sarcastic or arrogant or playful, he was genuine and as you walked towards him, you were ready to go. 

He just held your hand as you walked along the side of the lake, ignoring the gaze of the other students after you had blown up at Jessie. 

He pulled you towards a secluded part of the lake and you began rambling on and on about how you felt back about yelling at the girl and that if he really wanted to that he should date him. 

He laughed and you stopped rambling, cokcing your head to the side as you looked at him, confused as to why he laughed. 

He just smiled, "I love you," he said and you squinted at him, confused as to what he was saying. 

"You love me?" You questioned, taking a step back as you tried ro process it all. 

You'd been in love with Sirius Black since you could remember and now he was admitting his feelings to you. Something had to be wrong. 

"This is a prank isn't it," you said, looking around the room trying to find James, Remus and Peter. 

"No, no," he said, reaching forward and taking your hand in his, "I do, I didn't realise it before today but I always have,"

The more that he spoke, the more convinced you were and he kept rambling, something Sirius Black didn't do often. 

You smiled, "Shut up, I love you to," you said, leaning in and pressing your lips against his. 

And you realised that you weren't destined to watch as he fell in love with someone else because he had fallen in love with you. 

[enamouredfae]

♡ Pick a Card ♡

Advice from your Spirit Guides!

This reading is for entertainment purposes only.

This is a timeless reading for the collective, therefore it is likely that some messages will not resonate with you. Please only take the messages that do! The messages that do not, are meant for somebody else. Remember that the future is never set in stone and that you possess free will! Love you! ♡

Pile 1

Charm: Shell

You may see shells as signs from the universe. You may have Venusian placements. You have a tough exterior, but once you finally open up to people you are a hidden gem! You are a person that values privacy.

Flower: Carnation

The meaning of carnation changes depending on its colour, since this one is a stripped purple carnation, it symbolizes rejection/refusal and capriciousness. It being a dry bud, for me at least, symbolizes that this is a small issue that isn't likely to grow! You might've been refused a caprice recently, or you may have too high expectations that are likely not going to be fulfilled.

Significator: Page of Cups

Self-sufficient is the word I thought of when I saw this card. I think that at the moment you are really starting to work through your emotions, you might be finally doing some introspection, journaling, talking to people, seeing a therapist, etc. You are beginning a journey of emotional growth. You might also be receiving a message soon, be aware of any symbols that matter to you or ask the universe for certain symbols for guidance.

Astro: Virgo and Capricorn

There is a high chance that you have Virgo or Capricorn placements. You may be earth dominant. You may be Mercury/Saturn dominant/ruled. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

I thought of soil when I saw these cards, not a plant, but very well-nourished soil. It seems like you are making a foundation for yourself that is not rooted in anyone else, it simply comes from you. You are the soil, the water, the nutrients, and your future self is the plant. Flower crowns may be significant to you as well, or you may find great healing by connecting with nature and connecting to nature's cycles.

What you need advice on:

VI of Wands and X of Pentacles (reversed)

There are a few possibilities I see here. You may be having a hard time getting your accomplishments noticed by others, you might not receive the praise you desire or feel you deserve. Another possibility is that you may have a hard time feeling successful due to your financial situation. You may have received a large sum of money that should make you happy, but it doesn't. You may be very well off financially, but it is causing some hardships, and others might not understand these hardships because they think that they'd be very happy in your position.

Advice:

King of Pentacles and XVIII. The Moon

I feel like at least one of you should monetize your intuition. Some of you have or will meet a person (very likely an earth placement), that is either a business partner or a lover/friend, that will somehow help you with your financial issue. They might recommend you to someone for example. Perhaps if you confide in the King of Pentacles, they'll help you immensely, they're someone you can rely on, if not financially, emotionally. Others should embody the King of Pentacles, be determined, stick to a routine. For others, someone could be hiding smth from you that would help you immensely with this issue. Listen to your intuition! Do not forget that your anxieties and fears are valid, and it is normal to be feeling like this! Your worth is not defined by your financial success!

38. Willow and 5. Cerato and Honeysuckle

Willow talks about self-responsibility: make a plan, stick to it and, most importantly, try to stop complaining. You have the strength to get through this, complaining just engrains it in your head that you have a problem making it harder to get out of that mindset, instead try working on the solution. Cerato talks about the fact that no matter how many people you ask, no matter how many books you read, your gut knows best! Trust yourself and your intuition. Whatever feels right, is! Just know that domestic happiness is very important right now, cherish whoever that may be (King of Pentacles perhaps), be it your cat or even yourself if you live alone, give and accept affection! This could be a message for a specific person but I feel called to note that as I was shuffling the oracles I started singing "Runaway" by Aurora. Perhaps the lyrics are meaningful to one of you, or it can reassure you that this pile is meant for you if this is your favorite song.

Pile 2

Charm: Cactus

You may see cacti as signs from the universe or have a very strong emotional attachment to them due to a certain memory. I feel like a lot of people are attracted to you, but they feel that you will reject or hurt them if they get too close. Or you consciously or subconsciously hurt people when they get too close. You might think you don't deserve love, which is NOT TRUE. Love isn't something that has to be deserved! But if it were, you most certainly deserve it!

Flower: Freesia

Yellow freesias symbolize joy, renewal, and friendship. It is the go-to flower to convey to someone that you trust them. You are incredibly trustworthy, someone to whom your loved ones come for advice. You are a great listener, are very delicate and tactful in your interactions with others.

Significator: IX. The Hermit

You are doing a lot of self-reflection right now, sometimes the pondering even turns into daydreams. You may also be connecting with and thinking about your spiritual/religious beliefs. You are looking to understand the light that illuminates your path. You may have started meditating, or you should start! Spiritual awakening is happening or coming soon! You could be isolating yourself at the moment as well.

Astro: Jupiter and Libra

There is a high chance that you have Libra or Sagittarius placements. You may be air dominant. You may be Jupiter/Venus dominant/ruled. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

The words that I kept thinking about at this point in the reading were "letting karma do its job" and "visions of the future". You may be clairvoyant! But most of you act a lot like the Justice tarot card, you like balance and fairness, and have a life philosophy based on these ideas. Your higher education might've played a big role in this.

What you need advice on:

II of Cups (reversed) and Queen of Swords

Someone may be rationalizing or overthinking a perceived imbalance in a relationship. Of course, the Queen of Swords, likely an air placement, is intelligent, they may be right in their thinking but because of the advice received, I believe their judgment is clouded by insecurity. They may feel unworthy of what they receive, seeing that you chose the cactus charm and have libra as an astro card, it is very likely that this is you but this may be your person as well, both options are possible.

Advice:

King of Cups and IV of Swords (reversed)

See, the King of Cups is upright, this person, very likely a water placement, is very emotionally mature, compassionate, and understanding. Whereas the swords person is exhausted and stagnant due to the deep contemplation happening. I feel they may also be insecure, causing the overthinking. If this is you, trust me, you deserve the King of Cups! If this is your person, make them realize that they deserve you! They need a lot of reassurance.

1. Agrimony and 7. Chestnut Bud and Morning Glory

Love, whether romantic or platonic, requires hard work, determination, and affection. Agrimony talks about a person that needs balance, both inside and outside. You may find it by showing more of yourself, especially by starting with your loved ones. Because you might not be used to it, start little by little, and observe how accepting those you love can be. Chestnut Bud talks about focus and learning from experience. For me, it's another confirmation that someone is overthinking, see the girl looking very melancholic, whereas their counterpart is goofing around. Don't take life too seriously! Have fun with your loved one!

Pile 3

Charm: Leaf

You might see certain trees or leaves as signs from the universe. When I picked up this charm I immediately thought "Leave!" So if you were thinking about a voyage, there's your sign, just be mindful of covid regulations, please. The idea of falling also popped up, so you might be falling for someone rn or feeling like you're in a perpetual fall emotionally.

Flower: Orchid

I would just like to point out that, although this orchid dried white, it was actually a baby purple orchid when alive. I will therefore explain both colors: purple orchids represent royalty, admiration, and respect, whereas white ones symbolize purity and innocence. But they are, no matter what color, always a symbol of luxury, delicate beauty, and virility.

Significator: 0. The Fool

You may be starting smth new with confidence, smth you haven't done before, making you a bit inexperienced, but still willing to take the leap of faith. OR you may be acting foolishly by looking back or the opposite way of the thing you'd do with confidence. Let me explain, as you can see the Astro cards are both looking in one direction, with determination, and confidence. Whereas The Fool is looking the opposite way. Your significator may be saying that you're being foolish to look the other way, wondering what-ifs.

Astro: Sagittarius and Mars

There is a high chance that you have Sagittarius, Aries, or Scorpio placements. You may be fire dominant. You may be Jupiter/Mars dominant/ruled. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

You have a clear goal that you can easily reach through your actions. Look at Mars' demeanor, he knows Sagittarius is hitting the target. Do not doubt yourself, there's nothing to worry about. Stay focused!

What you need advice on:

XI. Justice (reversed) and Queen of Cups

Clearly, there is a decision to be made here, and you really want to listen to your heart. And you're questioning whether you should? I just want to reassure you, the Queen of Cups is highly in tune with their intuition and their emotions, you should trust yourself.

Advice:

X of Swords (reversed) and II of Pentacles

You are clearly in pain, whether or not it is talking about this decision that is eating you up. Healing and recovery are important right now! It's time to stop resisting an inevitable end, and start recovering. Look, the reversal allows for the swords to just fall out of your back, just look inwards! Don't forget to balance work with fun, you deserve to relax! Another way to see this is that you are restricting yourself by seeing this as a choice, why not do both? Although, if we are talking about people here, there better be a mutual agreement on polygamy! I will not invite you to cheat! If we are talking about activities, you are capable of doing both if it's too hard to choose, you just need to figure out how to balance them. A specific message is that some of you want to go back to doing smth you've dreamt of doing as a child, if that is the case, pls do it, at least as a hobby!

13. Gorse and 32. Vine and Trumpet Gentian

There is a need to heal some inner wounds. I immediately thought of inner child work when I saw the Trumpet Gentian in combination with the Vine. Vine talks about acts of service and leadership skills, try parenting yourself/your inner child, give yourself the love that you may have lacked as a kid. You are worthy of it! Gorse is all about perspective and imagination. Do a brainstorming of possible outcomes depending on the decision you take, you can do this alone, but the input of loved ones that can be honest with you would do wonders. Don't forget your future can go in many different ways, and whichever decision you take is the right one!

Pile 4

Charm: Angel

You may see angels or angel numbers as signs from the universe. You are a person that is divinely guided and divinely protected. It seems to me like you have a very strong intuition or are very aware of your divine gifts.

Flower: Rose

Of course, roses are always symbolic of love. Therefore I believe it is more note-worthy here to talk about the size. This is a tiny rose. Just like the carnation bud, it did not have time to grow and is now immortalized in its youth stage. You may be inexperienced in love, or hold naive beliefs about it. You might be experiencing youthful romance right now.

Significator: XV. The Devil

What I find interesting here is that you got the angel charm with the devil significator. This is very conflicting energy. The sentence that I kept thinking throughout the reading is "wolf in sheep clothing" or "sheep in wolf's clothing", I kept mixing up the words, just very contradictory energy. The way you present yourself to the world is very different from how you truly are. You might also be a person prone to obsessing over people, things, interests, etc. I also would like to note here that this pile was the hardest to get the cards, the amount of shuffling I did here until the cards flew made me sweat hahaha. It's also a very confusing reading. Therefore, I believe you carry a lot of confusion yourself, although your intuition is incredibly powerful, you might suffer from being very paranoid, and sometimes being unable to differentiate your intuition from your delusions. I also think you're very secretive, you do not want people to know or understand you.

Astro: Neptune and Moon

There is a high chance that you have Pisces or Cancer placements. You may be water dominant. You may be Neptune/Moon dominant/ruled. You could have a Neptune/Moon aspect. This could also apply to the person you need advice on if that is the case.

"This is a time of great psychic sensitivity for you. Trust your intuition and follow its guidance." You should try to differentiate emotions from intuition, I know it's hard, but they are different things, and it's very important to tell them apart! Your dreams may hold messages, try having a dream journal and interpreting them if you don't do that already.

What you need advice on:

IX of Wands (reversed) and V of Swords (reversed)

As you can see ALL of the tarot cards I've received in this reading are reversed, implying inner conflicts that require inner change/work. You might've said/done smth you now regret, and you hate yourself for it, you may also be incredibly paranoid that others will find out. You want the paranoia to end. You want to make amends, to reconciliate/atone, but are unsure on whether you should do it. Perhaps you don't feel emotionally prepared to reopen that wound.

Advice:

V. The Hierophant (reversed) and VII of Wands (reversed)

What I noticed here is that The Hierophant mirrors The Devil, not as perfectly as The Lovers, but it is incredibly similar. Once again that energy of opposition, contradiction, and confusion appears, "the wolf in sheep's clothing". For some, my fixation on this phrase could be a warning. For others an invitation to look in the mirror... Try looking at the situation from the other person's point of view! I'm not saying you are a "wolf in sheep's clothing", but that might be how you're being perceived. You are exhausted, remorse is eating up all of your energy. The Hierophant is saying that you should stay true to your personal beliefs, so if you believe apologizing is necessary to move on, do it!

This could be unrelated and for a specific person, but don't be afraid of challenging the status quo! If it hurts none, do as you will, embody your true self! I just want to remind you that going against your loved one's idea of "normalcy" is not hurting them, it's loving yourself. But remember that you also don't owe anyone a "coming out", you are valid whether or not you tell people! Do whatever your heart tells you and please be safe!

!!! : Of course, this doesn't count if what's challenging the status quo doesn't respect others' identity/ sexuality/ ethnicity/ religion/ etc. If challenging the status quo comes from a place of hate please block me. Nobody is using this reading as a sign to do some fucked up shit.

3. Beech and 2. Aspen and Lily

When I saw Beech I immediately thought "talk to someone, or you could spiral." Beech talks about self-acceptance and self-compassion. You must first accept yourself as you are, an imperfect human being, like all humans, before starting to work on embodying your highest self. Stay open-minded! Aspen, on the other hand, invites you to connect with others, not only for advice or consoling but for quality time! I have a feeling that you have very high morals, but having them isn't enough, you must act accordingly!

Thank you for reading! Love you all.♡

You can buy me a coffee if you feel called to do so! This is never necessary, but always appreciated! ♡

[lonelyreputation]

Arpeggio

A/N: Woooo a long one! The idea has been on a stick note for three months and it’s finally here 🤧 It was a very fun one to write! I hope you enjoy it & let me know your thoughts! Ahh! 💥🥰💗

Summary: You’re a ghostwriter for a famous singer and Shawn is head over heels in love with the singer who he thinks writes her own music…But little does he know it’s you.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂

Warnings: Few swear words

WC: 13.7K // Angst & Fluff

--

You sat on the edge of your seat, legs crossed, as you stared intently at the “famed” singer-songwriter who was reading over your lyrics.  She shuffled papers back and forth either humming in distaste when she didn’t like a particular lyric, or slamming a lyric sheet down on the table for a song she wanted to keep.

This was the third album cycle you had done this for her––writing songs and pitching them for her to sing.  All while you sat in the background and collected royalties off the copyright you owned.  

When you were sixteen, you wrote a song that circulated around a publishing company, and she––Zilla––did whatever she could to have the song be put on hold for her.  She was a newer artist, but you heard whispers that she bought out Kacey Musgraves in order to record your song.  

It started with one song as a work for hire, which grew to an EP where you had copyright ownership, and then to a full album…Which led you to sign a contract with her management team as her ghostwriter.

You remember it clear as day––you in their office, with your own entertainment lawyer, as Zilla and her manager slid an NDA across the table.  You remember the manager trying their best to not outright say that Zilla wasn’t talented in songwriting––She just spends so much time making sure her vocals are perfect that she doesn’t have time to write and everyone wants personal songs nowadays.

Zilla’s real name was Willow––but in order to keep the artist name the same as the songwriting credits––she picked a stage name.  So, her stage name was just Zilla, and your songwriting credit would be listed as Zilla Greene.  

While the public knew that Zilla was a stage name for Willow, they thought that she also wrote her own songs under the pseudonym Zilla Greene…But nobody knew how far from the truth that was.

The sound of papers slamming down on a wooden table snapped you out from your daydream, “None of these work,” Zilla leaned back on the couch and crossed her arms over her chest, “I want to change my sound.”

You had spent months crafting the songs in front of her.  Carefully crafted rhyme schemes, imagery that was similar to the second album you wrote for her that won her three Grammys, it had an even mix of upbeat songs and ballads…And she didn’t want any of them.

Your mouth dropped, “But what––You want––Why?”

Zilla shrugged her shoulders and picked at her nails, “The last album was so…Pop,” she cringed, “Too colorful. I need to change it up––Keep listeners on their toes––I’m seeing this album aesthetic as more black and white.”

You picked up your little notebook and scribbled down aesthetics and moods she wanted to match.  With each sentence she rattled off, you wrote down key words––songs that connect in a story, feeling lost, black and white, heartbreak––a bit of your soul crumbled as you saw the songs you worked so hard on lay abandoned on the table without a second thought.

“Give me an album that gives me a perfect score on Pitchfork.”

The pen you frivolously scribbled down ideas on dropped from your hand, “That’s––I can’t control Pitchfork!”

Zilla rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Then you better write a damn good album.”

“But you––Red!” You shouted out to grab her attention as you saw her packing up her bag, “That’s a nine.  Literally one point away from a perfect score.”

Hiking her back over her shoulder, Zilla flicked her perfect loose curls over her shoulder, “Red was a good debut album, 1989 was a good Grammy album, I need something great.”

And with that, the “famed” singer-songwriter walked out of the room.  The clacks of her heels were as loud as the sound of your heart shattering as you continued to stare at the songs on the table…That’ll never have the chance to see the daylight.  

---

It was a new day and the sun shining through your half-opened window as the thin white curtains softly blew with the breeze.  You were sat crossed legged on the floor in a little corner of your apartment that you claimed as your “writing room.”  It wasn’t much of a room––because you literally sat on the floor––but it was where you wrote the best.

You sat in the corner, right under the window, on a small pink and teal woven rug, with a few throw pillows, and lyric sheets scattered all over the floor.  

How were you supposed to create a whole new album when you had a perfect album already written?

With your head buried in your hands, you were at standstill, never having writer's block hit you this hard.  You had songs already written––An album that was hopefully a 7 on Pitchfork’s scale––but it wasn’t good enough for her.  

Nothing seemed to be good enough for her.

Your phone dinged with an email and you read the preview that it was just a Google Alert for Zilla.  You ignored the notification, not wanting to think about how angry you already were at her…even though you were currently writing for her.

A melody slowly came into your mind as you started humming into a voice note.  But it was quickly cut off short when you heard the stomps of Mia––your roommate––come running from the kitchen to where you were.

“Did you see this interview?”

You raised an eyebrow at her and directed your eyes to the strewn papers on the floor, “I’m a little busy?”

She waved you off and couldn’t stop smiling, “Shawn Mendes is like in love with you.”

The phone dropped from your hands, and you cringed because you knew that was going to sound horrendous when you played back the voice note. But that wasn’t what was on your mind.  

“What?!”

Mia nodded at your shocked reaction, but then backed up with her explanation, “Well, not you––Zilla,” she made a little throw up noise, “But he loves your songwriting.”

“How––”

Mia shoved her phone into your face and you saw a paused YouTube video.  In the video you saw Shawn Mendes sitting on a chair, holding a white poster board, as he was in the middle of ripping a paper off.  He was doing a Wired Autocomplete Interview.  You skeptically looked up at Mia, and she gestured with her hands for you to hit play.

So you hit play and immediately cringed at the sound of his nails coming in contact with the poster board as he ripped off the blocking.

“Did Shawn Mendes write a song on Zilla’s last album?”  Shawn let out a small laugh as he shook his head, “I wish she would write a song for me.”  His smile only seemed to grow as he continued talking about her, “She posted an acoustic clip of this new song she was working on––I’m hoping it’s on her new album.”

You felt a flutter of butterflies swarm your stomach because you knew exactly what song he was talking about.  It was the chorus to a song called Cardigan, the first song that Zilla hadn’t turned down for the new album. 

The video Zilla posted on her Instagram was dimly lit as she sat on the ground with her guitar.  And while she frustrated you to no end…You couldn’t deny that she had a beautiful voice.

And apparently Shawn Mendes thought so too.

“Ever since her self-titled EP, I’ve been obsessed with her,” at Shawn’s words you looked up at Mia who mirrored your smile, “There’s just something so personal about her songs and I…” he looked down at his shoes before looking back up at the camera, “I’m fangirling, but I really admire her songwriting.  I hope to write with her one day.”

He went to rip off the next question, but you paused the video, not wanting to hear the scraping sound again.

With the phone slightly shaking in your hands, you slowly picked your head up to look at Mia with a wide smile, “Oh my God.”

Mia nodded excitedly and jumped around in a circle, “Shawn Mendes likes––no loves––your songwriting!  He’s so in love with you––He wants to write songs with you––He––”

You started to feel an overwhelming sense of pride as a jolt of joy was sent from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.  Shawn Mendes––an artist that you admired for his work ethic––admitted to fangirling over your songwriting.  

You were about to get up and dance around with Mia because it felt like a celebration, but with one look at the lyric sheets scattered on the floor…Your excitement slowly diminished.  Because all of these songs––all of your feelings, your poetry, your deepest regrets and highest of loves––were going to her.

Zilla got the credit for your art.

People told Zilla that she inspired them to write songs.

And Shawn admired what he thought was Zilla’s songwriting.

You picked up the pen and twirled it around your fingers, clenching your jaw, as you casted a regretful look at the songs on the floor…They were your pride and joy, even the ones you didn’t like very much, because each song took a little bit of your soul and was then shared with the world.

“He’s in love with Zilla’s writing,” you sucked in a deep breath, “Not mine.”

----

Instead of your safe writing spot at your apartment, you were in the studio for a change.  Since the only people who knew about Zilla’s secret were you, Mia, your lawyer, her manager, and Zilla herself…The record label still booked sessions for Zilla to write.  So you found yourself in the studio a few times a month whenever it came time to write her a new album.

“How’s the album?”

You had been writing for hours and felt so exhausted that you should’ve been surprised when you didn’t hear a door open.  But you were absolutely dreading this album writing process, you were creating emotions––trying to draw from real experience––but nothing was working.

You stretched your arms over your head, squinting an eye when you heard your back crack, and looked up at Zilla with tired eyes, “I have a few songs.”

Her mouth dropped, not liking the progress you were making, “A few?”

“It’s been two and a half months since you said you wanted a whole genre switch,” You snapped at her, “You’re going from pop to some sort of folk alternative––”

Zilla scoffed, “You did this before.  Red was country and 1989 was pop.  This shouldn’t be a problem.”

The two of you were in a glaring match as you set your pen down, “You demanded a seventeen song album––Do you know how hard that is with the soft deadline Columbia gave you?”

“You had songs written before––”

“Then why didn’t you take those songs?” It was a genuine question, but also a question you knew the answer to.  And you were right when she spurted something off about wanting to change up her sound.

“People love me because I’m not predictable,” Zilla walked over to where you were sitting and picked up a lyric sheet, humming in approval before letting it slowly fall to the ground, “And the songs you wrote before weren’t good enough.”

“What do you mean––”

“It’s just writing a few songs,” Zilla huffed out, “I don’t see how you can’t do that between now and the soft release date.”

You closed your eyes and let your head fall on the back of the couch cushion.  You brought your hands up to rub the inside corners of your eyes, “You want a heartbreak album––I’m not in that headspace and you also need to record the songs.” 

You opened your eyes and immediately glared, “Do you remember how Rob Stringer nearly flipped because I still had to finish writing Clean but you lied and said it was just the backing vocals that needed to be done?”

As much as Zilla wanted to refute you, she knew she had no place, because what you said was absolutely true.  That was not a fun phone call to be a part of with the C.E.O. of Sony Music––even if you were on mute.

“It won him Album of the Year at the Grammys,” Zilla said in an unsympathetic voice, “And this album is going to be better than that.”

You let out a very loud and exasperated sigh, “That won’t cut it this time around!  At least I had some inspiration for that album, because I have none––”

“You’re crazy,” Zilla narrowed her eyes, “Just find a random person and have them break your heart.”  You had your mouth open for a rebuttal to tell her that that’s not how songwriting worked, but she picked a piece of lint off her sweater, “You’re pretty…enough.”

You squeezed your eyes tight as you felt yourself begin to seethe at her.  You started to feel a slight pain in your jaw with how hard your teeth were clenched together, but your eyes were still shut as you tried to simmer your anger, as your voice came out dangerously low, “Out.”

“You can’t kick me out!” Zilla laughed and you opened your eyes to look at the woman who had no respect for your artistry…Even though you were the one to give her a career in the first place, “I’m paying for your studio time.”

“No, technically,” you glared over her shoulder at the door, “Columbia is paying for the studio.”

Zilla huffed as she crossed her stiff arms over her chest, “No need to get so angry––”

You felt yourself becoming more angry at her presence.  Her presence was driving you insane and you knew that she was being a nuisance on purpose––poking you like a bear until she got her desired reaction out of you.

“Out!”

She looked at you with shock written all over her face.  You were never one to raise your voice at anyone, and you always bent over backwards to comply with whatever Zilla wanted.  But not now.  You only felt angry and crazy in her presence, and those feelings only intensified in you when she pointed out how crazy and angry you were acting.

Zilla left––you don’t know if it was after you screamed at her or if she stayed for a few moments longer––because for the first time in writing this album for her…You felt inspiration for a song hit.

You heard the light piano keys first, humming the pitch in your head, as the light sound of finger picking on a guitar creeped into the back of your mind.  Fresh off your argument with Zilla, the chorus of the song came first.  You channeled your anger into inspiration as your hand gripped the pen until your knuckles hurt.

You don’t know how long you were writing the song for, but it was almost finished––I’m taking my time––Oh, how you wished you could take your time with this album––Taking my time––Well, maybe you will take your time with this album and get her in trouble with all of her deadlines, even though it would technically be breaking your contract too––Because you took everything from me.

She took your songs away from you.

“Oh, Sorry I––I might be in the wrong room?”

You dropped your pen and slammed your writing journal closed because no one was supposed to be in this room.  With eyes wide, your heart stopped, because there were papers all around the room of potential songs for Zilla’s album.  

Lifting your wrist to look at your watch, you saw that you were eleven minutes past your allotted amount of time Columbia reserved.  Immediately, you scrambled to get off the couch as fast as possible, crunching your lyric sheets in the process.

You shook your head, still not looking up at the person because you wanted to make sure all of the songs were in your possession, “You’re probably in the right room.  I––I’ve stayed past my time just a little and I––This is most likely definitely your room––”

“Wasn’t Zilla in here before?”

You froze and gripped the song sheet that you were currently stuffing in your bag.

Shit.

Slowly, you took a deep breath, and looked up at the person who had the room reserved after you.  And your already wide eyes doubled in size when you saw that it was Shawn Mendes standing in front of you.  The guy you saw on Mia’s cracked iPhone screen a few months ago––fangirling over songs you wrote.

His knuckles were white as he gripped his guitar case––in what you assumed to be excited nerves––as his head darted around the small studio space, hoping to catch a glimpse of the singer-songwriter.

“Oh, yeah she––She was done like forty minutes ago,” you spewed out a lie, “And then she let me use her remaining time.”

Shawn’s shoulders sunk in disappointment, and his smile faltered just a tad, undoubtedly disappointed that he missed his chance to meet a songwriter he admired.  But little did he know that songwriter he actually admired was standing right in front of him.

You never wanted to be in the spotlight, never liked having attention on you, and it’s part of the reason why you agreed to work as Zilla’s ghostwriter.  But with how her career took off, her songs––your stories––were gaining much more recognition than you ever thought.  And it was times like these that you wished you could tell someone––other than your roommate––that they were your songs.

“So…” Shawn rocked on his feet a few times, quickly breaking eye contact with you to look at the remaining papers on the ground, “Are you friends with her?”

You nodded your head as you bent down to pick up the remaining songs, stuffing them deep in your bag, “We’re like––Uh––Yeah, pretty good friends.”  

How else were you supposed to describe your business relationship with her?  In the beginning, you hoped it would be more of a collaborative experience––Zilla telling you stories about her that you could write into songs––but that wasn’t the case.  

She didn’t want to do any work besides reap the benefits of traveling the world and having millions of people adore her.

He ran his free hand through his curls, following your every move of cleaning up your mess, “Do you sing?”

His question caught you off guard, “Pardon?”

Shawn let out a small laugh and gestured to the recording studio the two of you were in, “Are you a musician?”

You immediately shook your head, “Oh no, I’m––I write.”

“Ah, a songwriter,” Shawn softly smiled in appreciation as he went to set his guitar down by the other couch in the room, “Without people like you, us singers would be useless.”

“You write your own stuff.  Not many people do that anymore,” you rolled your eyes at his compliment, “That’s a redeeming quality.”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders, “Yeah, I…I do write my own stuff.  With some help obviously, but it’s rare to find that nowadays.” You nodded in understanding as the two of you stood in silence.  He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his blue jeans as a smile lit up his face, “Except for Zilla.  Now she…Wow,” he whistled low, “She’s a once in a lifetime artist.”

You felt your throat tighten up.

“Yeah, that’s…” You let out a fake laugh as you bit the inside of your cheek, “That’s one way to put it.”

Shawn eagerly nodded as he continued to talk about your least favorite topic, “Her words––Her experiences––It’s all so personal.  Sometimes I feel like I’m eavesdropping or reading her diary,” He plopped down on a black rolling chair and his smile grew wider, “Now she’s someone I respect.”

And while you knew he was complimenting your work, he didn’t know it.  The person who he thought he respected so much was in the music industry for all the wrong reasons.  The person he thought so highly sent you a text on the day she got her first Billboard number one––a song that you wrote––and demanded a new song in a few weeks time all while she popped open a bottle of champagne on her Instagram.

You nodded your head, knowing that if you said something, it wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear.

“I’ll let you get to work,” you picked up your journal from the couch cushion and slipped it in your bag, “I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

You turned to walk out the door but Shawn’s voice called you back, “Hey––You, um…I think this is yours?”

Turning around, you saw Shawn looking down at a familiar white piece of paper with words scratched out and arrows changing up verses, “This is…This is really good…” he looked up at you, “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Y/n,” you rushed out as you snatched the paper out of his hold.

Shawn nodded his head and stood up from the chair, leaning over your shoulder to continue reading the lyrics, “Centennial park…” he scratched his chin, “Nashville?”

You folded the paper in half, shielding your story from his eyes, as you lied, “Different park.”

Still stuck on the song, your mouth dropped as Shawn yanked the piece of paper out of your hands, opening it back up to skim over, “Maybe in the bridge––The last line…” you reached out to grab your paper from him, but he held it over his head, tilting his head back so he could still read the lyrics, “Change string to thread? Change up the lyrics like you did with the chords.”

Once he got his thought out, he lowered the piece of music and you grabbed it back, glaring at him as you stuffed it deep into your bag, “These aren’t mine,” you said bitterly, because while they were your words, they would eventually belong to Zilla, “They’re Zilla’s.  So I’ll let her know.”

Shawn’s eyes bugged out of his head, mouth wide open in shock, “You––You have her lyric sheets?!”  His eyes quickly darted down to your bag.  You pulled your bag closer to your side out of protection, “The things I would do to have whatever job you have.  I mean––To be able to read her songs before they’re out? That’s––I will literally trade places for a day with you.”

You let out a weak laugh, wishing that you got out of the studio on time, “I’m sure your job pays much better than being her…assistant.”

Shawn’s eyes glistened with excitement, “You’re her friend, assistant, and you get to read her songs?”  Shawn ducked his head as he let out a chuckle, “I’d do anything to be you for a day.”

You pulled your eyebrows together, but tried to keep your face neutral, “I’m sure you wouldn’t.” But his smile only widened as he daydreamed about being so close to someone you thought was cousins with the devil, “I should really get going.”

Shawn nodded in understanding but called your name out, “Y/n––I don’t know if this is too forward, but…I mean––You don’t have to do it––But could you give Zilla my number?”  He didn’t get a chance to look at how everything about your appearance dropped.

You were stunned as your mouth hung open, your eyes drooped in sadness, shoulders deflated…But he couldn’t visibly see the weight that you felt like was dropped in your stomach.  He picked up a pen you left on the table and scribbled his number on a sticky note and you couldn’t remember a time where you felt so defeated.

He tore the sticky note off the pad and handed it over to you as he blushed, “I’d really love to write with her.”

You’d love to write with me, your brain screamed at you.  But outing yourself as Zilla’s writer wasn’t worth all the lawsuits you would face.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and numbly nodded, “I’m sure she’d love to write with you too.”

----

Two and a half weeks later you found yourself writing in the same studio.  And while you normally felt cooped up when in the studio, it was better at being at your apartment.  Ever since you told Mia about your run in with Shawn it was the only thing she talked about.

She told you that it was the perfect time to tell the truth about your career––bring that witch down once and for all––were her exact words.  But you didn’t want to deal with the mess of breaking an NDA.  

So the next time you saw Zilla, you told her about your run in, and unenthusiastically handed her the sticky note with his number.  Her smile was as wide as his when you told him you worked with Zilla.  And while Zilla portrayed herself as a down-to-earth singer who transcended all genres of music…She was nothing but the opposite.  

And from your brief run in with Shawn, you knew he was completely opposite of Zilla in every way, shape, and form.

The sound of your phone ringing brought you out of your songwriting process, without looking at caller I.D., you answered, “Hi, this is––”

“Y/n.”

You sucked in a breath when you heard her voice, “I have half of the album written.  I’ll send you the songs and then you can record them,” You doodled in the margin of your journal, “So that way we don’t get in trouble again––”

“No, stop––Shawn is on his way to the studio.”

You let out a bitter laugh, your grip around the pen tightening as it scratched a hole in the paper, “I’m sure the fans will be happy to see pictures––

“No. Shut up for a minute,” at her strict tone you straightened your posture, not liking the way she was talking to you, “He’s coming to you. Where you are.”

You were about to make a quip about how she should talk to you with a little more respect, but when you heard the news of Shawn, your mind went from lyrical songwriting to ultimate panic.

“What?!”

“And I’m like an hour away from you,” you heard a car horn beep on the other end, “God, I hate L.A.––But he––He wants to write songs with me––”

“But you don’t write your own songs.”

“Don’t I fucking know,” she sneered through the phone.

A victorious small smile crept on your face, “Then why did you agree?”

“We had lunch and I told him I had a studio time slotted and he just texted me that he’s ten minutes away,” Zilla said all in one breath as she honked her horn twice, “because he wanted to surprise me.”

“Not much of a surprise if he’s texting you.”

She honked her horn again, “Y/n.”

“Sorry, sorry…I just,” you looked around at the mess you created in the studio.  There were your usual papers strewn around, empty coffee cups, some takeaway food containers on the table that you were too lazy to throw out, “I’ve been here for like seven hours and there’s no way it’ll be clean before he comes.”

“Well do something––”

“Y/n?”

At the sound of your name being said gently in the same room as you, instead of it being yelled at through a phone, you quickly hung up on Zilla and threw your phone to the other end of the couch.  You snapped your head up, and like the first time you saw him, he had his guitar case clutched in his hand, knuckles white.

“Shawn,” You said his name carefully as you looked wearily at him, “Hey.”

He slowly nodded his head, “Is…” and you cringed when you saw him looking around the mess you created in the studio, “…Is Zilla here?”

“Oh she––she just––” you had to think of something quick, “Had to pick something up at the pharmacy and it’s a bit out of the way––and she––so she called me and wanted me to uh––keep watch.”

Shawn looked at you, letting out a confused laugh, as he tilted his head, “Keep watch in a highly secure recording studio where the rooms lock?”

You nodded your head, keeping up with your lie, “She’s very very protective of her work space.”

Again, he nodded his head as he took another look around the messy studio, “I can…see that.”  He shrugged his shoulders at the mess and took a seat on the ground.

You gathered up some of the papers that were on the couch around you, and on the table, and on the floor, “She had to go across town so she’ll be some time,” you shuffled the papers together until they all lined up.  You set them aside and flipped to a clean page in your notebook, “So like––Make yourself at home.”

In the midst of gathering your stuff up to leave, he called you back in, “Y/n,” you lifted your head up to see an amused smirk on his face, “Leaving your watch position in her studio?”

Your eyes widened, “Well, uh––You’re here now so like––I think it’ll be fine if you’re here, and if you have stuff to work on, I don’t want to get in the way––”

Shawn shook his head, “Stay.”

As if you were trapped under a spell, you set your bag down on the couch and sat on the ground across from him.  You sat with your legs criss-crossed as he opened the lid to his guitar case, “So…” you started off slow as you watched him carefully pull out his guitar.

Once he got in a comfortable sitting position with his guitar, you saw him pluck some strings and adjust the tuning pegs.  There was one string that sounded off and you couldn’t hide your cringe.

“That B is flat.  It needs to be higher.”

Shawn moved on to tune the E string, “I think it sounds fine.”

Even though he was looking down at his guitar, you still shook your head, “Get your tuner. It’s flat.”

Shawn let out a playful sigh and picked his head up to look for his tuner.  Once he found it in the case, he clipped it on the head of the guitar, “If it’s not perfect, I buy you a coffee,” he smiled at you, “And if it is perfect, you buy me a coffee.”

You only offered him a smile as your response, already knowing that he would be the one buying you coffee.  And when he got everything set up, plucked the string again, he looked at the tuner and frowned.  He started twisting the peg as he continued to pick at the string until the B string sounded like music to your ears.

Shawn lifted his head up, a small smile toying at the edges of his mouth, as he looked at you through his eyelashes, “Do we have perfect pitch over here?”

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders, not wanting to brag because you did have perfect pitch, “I like a cappuccino––light on the foam with an extra shot of espresso.”  

Shawn laughed at your response and rested his arm along the body of the guitar, “Working on anything exciting?”

You saw him eye the small stack of papers to your left, “Um…” self-consciously, you moved the papers further behind you so they were out of eyesight for him, “No…Not really.” Shawn gave you a look saying that he didn’t believe you, but you flipped the question to him, “What about you?  Getting some inspiration for new songs?”

On the outside, you wiggled your eyebrows in a suggestive manner, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of joking.  But on the inside, you felt your heart squeeze and your lungs collapse.

And it crushed you even more when he ducked his head and blushed, “I’m sure she’s told you plenty.”  You laughed, pretending like you knew he was talking about, but Zilla hadn’t told you anything. 

“She’s just so…Not what I expected,” a part of your spirits lifted, hoping he had seen her for who she truly was, but that was diminished when you noticed the far off dreamlike look in his eyes, “I think it makes me like her even more.”

You breathed out a silent laugh, twisting your hands together, “She’s a tricky one.  Always…always surprising people.”

Shawn nodded his head and slowly strummed the guitar, “I think I like being surprised.”

This time, you threw your head back in genuine laughter, but when you saw his confused stare, you coughed in the crook of your elbow, “Stick with her if you like to be kept on your toes.”

Shawn tried to conceal his smile, but you knew he was already enamored with Zilla, too far gone to be swayed by anything you could say, “I’ll take that advice.”  The two of you sat in another silence, as he softly strummed some chords on his guitar.

“Enough about her,” Shawn offered you a friendly smile, “I’m having trouble with something––Partly why I wanted to see her in the studio––” he leaned over to his backpack to grab out his sheet music and handed it to you, “See, I wanna do this,” he tried playing a chord, “But it’s not––I want it to sound different.”

You snorted and laid the sheet of paper on your knee, “That’s a good way to describe something you want changed.”  Shawn glared at you, and you rolled your eyes, “How about…Have you tried an arpeggio?”

“You definitely went to music school.”

You waved off his comment, “I’m sure you know what it is––just maybe not it’s technical name,” you pushed yourself off from the ground and walked over to grab your guitar.  Having already tuned it when you got in the studio, you sat down and situated the guitar on your lap.

“It’s like; do, do, do, do, do…” You tried humming, but when his face was still confused you started to play one of the most recognizable guitar riffs, “House Of The Rising Sun, the opening is an arpeggio,” you continued to hum along with the notes as you saw everything click in understanding in Shawn’s head.

You continued to play the opening chords on loop, “It’s a broken chord.  So that way you can hear the individual notes,” you explained, “Say on piano, you would play an arpeggio by just playing each individual key, and it’s the same on a guitar.  So when you play it slower,” you slowed down your strumming, “You can hear them more individually.”

Shawn nodded his head in awe of his little music lesson.

“They’re usually played in either ascending or descending order,” you picked up the pace of your strumming, before placing your hand flat on the strings, over the sound hole, to stop playing completely, “They’re also pretty common if you play them in a triad.”

Again, Shawn only nodded, enchanted by the sound of guitar.

“How much do you charge for music lessons?”

You let out a loud laugh and set your guitar over to the side, “I think you’re probably good in that department, but just buy me coffee then we’ll call it even.”

Shawn eagerly nodded his head, “I’m holding you to that––So like, with an arpeggio, is it always obvious that it’s there? Or do you have to listen to it really really closely?”

“I mean…” you tilted your head to the side, trying to find wording for the answer, “I think they’re more common than people realize? It’s a bit technical, because you're consecutively picking notes on different strings, but if you listen really closely, you’ll pick up on the broken chords.”

Shawn nodded, eyes seeming to be unfocused on something behind you, “Broken chords…” he mumbled under his breath a few times.

Feeling a little unsettled with him staring off into space, you cleared your throat, and that did the trick to snap him back to reality.  

He smiled and then nodded his head toward the lyric sheet he handed you, “And these lyrics…I can’t––” He leaned over and slid the lyrics across the floor so that they were placed in between you two, “Something’s off.”

You nodded your head, biting your bottom lip in concentration, trying to figure out the root of the problem.  Because while the lyrics were good, and you were able to hear the melody he had written down in your head, there was something off about them.

“Your rhyme scheme,” you mumbled, eyes still concentrated on the lyric sheet, “It’s a bit all over the place.  So I would just narrow that down, figure out if you’re doing an arpeggio or not, and you should be golden.”

When you looked up, you saw Shawn look at you with the same admiration he had in his eyes during your first conversation when he said how much he respected Zilla’s songwriting.  

You broke eye contact with him and scratched the back of your ear, “But only if you want––I don’t––Zilla is probably the person you should ask about this––”

Shawn shook his head, “She keeps blowing me off whenever I ask for her opinion,” and when you brought your gaze back up to him, he looked unsure of himself, “I know I’m not up to her level, and she’s…nice, but she always seems too busy to write.”

The insecure downcast of his eyes, and shrunken up body language, was a look you knew all too well.  He didn’t think he was good enough to write songs with her.  And what killed you was that he thought that way because she kept giving out false hope to him.  It angered you because if only he knew that he was actually writing songs with the person he admired, he would have a different perspective on everything.

You let out a sigh, knowing exactly how rejected he must feel, and slid the song sheet back over to him, “For a cup of coffee I’ll give you music lessons.”

Everything about Shawn’s demeanor switched like a light.  His posture straightened out, eyes beamed with joy, and his smile looked to be a little too wide after just offering him music lessons, “Please.”

You shyly nodded your head, feeling heat raise up to your cheeks, as you pulled down your phone from the couch and handed it over to him, “You can put your number in and then we can find a time.”

“I really appreciate this,” Shawn said as he swiftly typed away on your phone, “I can’t even––”

“Shawn?”

The voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard to you, but you regained your neutral composure before Shawn had the chance to notice any change.  You looked up to see Zilla in the doorway, glaring down at the two of you––with your guitars out and a music sheet in between you.  Shawn quickly handed your phone back to you, his full attention captured by Zilla.

“Hey, Z,” Shawn waved at her, still sitting, “Y/n was just helping me write––”

“Was she?” She gave you a pointed look that was meant to be a silent yell at you to not help him whatsoever because it could blow both of your covers.

You nodded your head, standing up with your guitar, putting as much distance between you and Shawn, “I only helped a little.  I told him you were the one he should go to.”

And with that answer, you still received a glare from her because of course she was useless in helping him with anything music related.  You could never win with her.

He handed his lyric sheet out toward Zilla, “If you want, you can look at what I have––”

“Actually,” Zilla cut him off with a smile, “I thought we could get some lunch.”

Shawn looked down and tapped the screen on his phone, the light illuminating a small portion of his face, as he looked up with eyebrows scrunched together, “It’s five fifteen?”

Zilla clapped her hands together, “Early dinner then.”

When you looked over at Shawn, you could see that he was disappointed that Zilla––once again––brushed off his attempt to write.  With a slump of his shoulders, you heard a barely audible exhale of annoyance come from him, as he packed up his guitar with a nod.

Once his guitar was packed away, he stood up and offered you an apologetic smile.

“Come on,” Zilla reached out her hand for Shawn to take, “There’s this really good sushi restaurant we can go to before it gets too crowded.”

And even though you could tell that all he wanted to do was sit down and write songs, when he looked at her, his smile was genuine.  He melted right at her touch and his eyes softened.  

His eyes flooded with admiration for her because he thought she was the one who wrote the music she sang.  He looked at her like she was his inspiration to keep writing better music. He’s looking at her the way he should be looking at you, your mind screamed.  

His eyes only added insult to the injury that started the day you signed your contract agreeing to be her ghostwriter.

“I’ll see ya for a music lesson later, Y/n.” Shawn smiled over his shoulder as Zilla dragged him out of the door.

Before Shawn looked back at Zilla, she shot you a smirk, as if she was claiming Shawn in victory.  And in a sense, she had won whatever contest she made up in her head.

She won by becoming a household name, she won by not doing any of the grunt work of composing music, she won by having people do the work for her, and she won the heart of the second most famous pop singer-songwriter in the world because he thought she wrote all her own songs.

And just like that, with the slam of the door, you were left exactly in a position you found yourself in plenty of times before.  You were left alone in a studio, with all of your songs, while Zilla pranced around with the newest person who caught her attention.

But this time, instead of both of you not caring about what the other one did, you could feel yourself being exiled from any part of her life that revolved around Shawn.  And you knew she did it purposefully.  She was threatened that your songwriting could easily sway Shawn away from her.  She was threatened because she knew she couldn’t give Shawn exactly what he wanted; a partner to write songs with.

And just like every other time Zilla left you aggravated with too many feelings, you began to write a song.

----

You took your sunglasses off and squitend your eyes as you scanned the outside patio of the coffee shop.  You were about to take your phone out, but when you saw Shawn stand up from the table and excitedly wave his hands above his head, you smiled and weaved through tables.

When you approached the table, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and your smile widened as you brought your arms around his waist.

“My favorite music teacher,” Shawn hummed as he pulled away from the hug.

You were a little disappointed he cut the hug off short, but you had to keep in mind that he was somewhat kind of seeing Zilla.  You tried to get her to define her relationship with Shawn, but she would just wave you off and say it was nothing serious or kept asking if you were jealous.

While you might’ve been a little jealous whenever you saw a low quality paparazzi picture of them out in L.A, knowing that Zilla kept lying to Shawn about her songwriting “ability” always made you sleep with a smile on your face.

Just like the past month and a half when you met Shawn for coffee for one of your “music lessons,” he was always there first.  And like every other time before, he had your cappuccino––light on the foam with an extra shot of espresso––at the spot across from him.

Not wanting to waste any time, Shawn eagerly took out his songwriting journal and flipped open to a random page.  He slid the journal over to you and a laugh escaped your lips every time you saw how chaotic his journal looked.  

He had different color post-it notes sticking up from the top, corners of pages that were worn down because of how frequently he dog-eared them, and the occasional loose leaf paper that was folded up and stuck between two pages.

Taking a sip of your coffee, you leaned closer to his journal, trying to decipher the messy script that was his handwriting.

You leaned back in the chair, nodding as you took another sip of coffee, “I like it.”

“Just like?” Shawn wrinkled his nose.

Shrugging your shoulders you took another look at the lyrics, “I mean…It’s a compliment?”

Shawn let out a sigh and buried his head into his hands for a moment before looking up at you with a pout, “Something’s not right.”  He leaned over the table a bit and pointed at the second verse, “I don’t know what it is, but something isn’t right.”

“I like it.”

Shawn crossed his arms as he leaned back in his chair, “No, there’s something you’re not telling me,” he glared at you, “You ripped apart my song last week and now you’re too quiet.”

You took another sip of your coffee to cover up the fact that you did think something was wrong with it.  But like he said before, with the way you tore his song up last week, you felt a little bad.  You didn’t want to make him feel like he wasn’t a good songwriter, because he had a way with words that you found yourself learning from.

He didn’t have quite as many songwriting awards as you, but you knew he wasn’t too far off.

With a sigh you offered him a weak smile, “You’re too vague.”  And with your first point of criticism, Shawn leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he took out a smaller journal and began to write down what you said, “You’ve already had songs that have touched on feeling lonely, and you’re really specific in the first verse, but too general with the second verse…” you trailed off your sentence and pointed at some scribbles on the paper, looking up at him, “Why’d you cross this out?”

Shawn stopped his scribbling to see what you pointed at, and when he saw the lyric, his cheeks turned red and he let his curls shield his embarrassed face, “It’s nothing,” he grumbled, “What should I change it to?”

You shook your head, “Nuh-uh,” you gave him an encouraging smile, “What did you write?”

He shook his head and looked down at the table, “I don’t like it.”

Under the table, you lightly brought your foot up to tap his shin.  You didn’t stop nudging his leg with your foot until you saw a small smile grace his lips when he shyly looked up at you, “I’m wondering.”

Shawn rolled his eyes at your poor pun and retaliated by nudging his foot against yours in order for you to stop teasing him, “It’s…” he shook his head, “It’s too embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s really not as bad as you think,” you smiled at him again, “If you tell me what the lyric was, I’ll tell you what I think you should do music composition wise at the end.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and stepped on your foot, “You’re evil.”

You let out a small laugh as you rounded your hands around the hot coffee, “I see your three starts next to it, I know that’s your little ‘I need help’ symbol.”

Shawn flipped you off and it only caused the small amount of butterflies in your stomach to grow even more.

With a deep breath, he looked down at his hands and started picking at a loose piece of skin, “I wonder…” He peered up to see your anxious gaze, but then diverted his stare back down to his hands as he tore up the paper napkin in front of him, “When I cry into my hands, I’m conditioned to feel like it makes me less of a man.”

You were in the middle of lifting your coffee mug up for another sip, but when you heard the rest of the lyric your hands froze mid-air.  You felt rooted to your seat as you stared at his face that still hadn’t looked up from tearing little pieces off the napkin.

How did he think that that lyric was not good enough?  That was something that you wished you wrote.

It was so vulnerable and honest and most of all, it was true to who he was.  In songwriting, no matter how personal a person thinks their experience is to them, there will always be hundreds upon thousands of people who will resonate with your story.

That was something you learned and used to your advantage.  

On Red, you fought hard for one particular breakup song to stay on the album that Zilla thought was too personal.  She kept saying––No one will care about leaving a scarf at his sister's house…No one will connect with dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light…And absolutely no one has had anyone ever call them up again just to “break them like a promise.”

But you fought hard and it was the song that solidified Zilla as this generation's greatest lyricist.  And it was also the song she performed on the Grammy’s when her debut album was nominated for Album of the Year.

Nervously, Shawn peaked up and saw the neutral expression on your face as you sat frozen.  He ran a hand through his hair and reached a hand across the table to pull his journal back, “See?  You think it’s stupid.  I––That’s why I crossed it off.  It’s too vulnerable and if people heard me say that?” He let out a somber chuckle, “They would think of me as less of a man.”

You pulled his journal back toward you and snatched the pen he had laying next to his other notebook, “That’s…Shawn that’s an incredible lyric.”  

You re-wrote the lyric on top of where it was originally scratched out, “There’s so much strength in vulnerability.  Not enough people––especially male artist’s––are comfortable with their vulnerability.  It’s refreshing and amazing and what you wrote––That lyric…”

When you looked up from re-writing the lyric down in his journal, you saw that he was trying to contain his growing smile by biting his bottom lip.  And this time under the table, when you brought your foot up to his, you gave it a single tap in reassurance, “It might be my favorite lyric ever.”

His voice cracked, “Really?”

You nodded your head, “It fits so well with the theme of self-discovery and being honest with yourself,” his smile widened with every compliment you offered him.  You leaned back in the chair, arms crossed over your chest with a proud smile on your face, “I think you knocked it out of the park with that one.”

Shawn ducked his head again and went back to ripping small pieces off the napkin, “That…That means a lot coming from you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you felt an electric current jolt through your veins, “If that lyric doesn’t make the song I won’t listen to the album.”

With a laugh so loud that it caused a few coffee shop patrons to look at your table, you let a smile overtake your face as you admired how the corners of Shawn’s eyes crinkled in joy.

“I’ll keep that promise,” Shawn scratched the bridge of his nose as he came down from his laughter, “So…” He briefly looked down at his songwriting journal with a smirk before looking back into your eyes, “What should I do with the end?”

You noticed a new flame of confidence in his eyes as he pushed his journal toward you more.  You let out a laugh as you looked at him with your eyebrows raised in excitement, “I’m thinking of a choir and horns…”

----

As your “music lessons” with Shawn continued for the next few months, so did your writing for Zilla’s next album.  And unfortunately, Zilla and Shawn also continued to see each other.  And while it was always a punch in the gut whenever Zilla brought it up, your conversations with Shawn were solely on writing and experimenting with different synthesizers for his new album.

With your contract that essentially hid you from the public, it was so refreshing to be able to collaborate with someone instead of writing by yourself.  Even though you mainly just helped Shawn with a bit of writing and composing some music, it was an experience that gave you new inspiration.  

You always thought you worked best alone, but collaborating with Shawn opened your eyes to everything you were missing out on.

It was all fun until Shawn approached you saying that he wanted to give you credit on his upcoming album.  That was when reality hit you because there was an exclusivity clause in your contract with Zilla stating that you could only write for her.  You tried to politely decline Shawn’s offer, but every time you saw him he brought it up.

It wasn’t until you told him you would stop your music lessons with him if he kept asking you.  

The times after that, you could tell he wanted to bring it up, he was fair in wanting to give credit where credit was due, but you told him not to worry about it.  Someone had been taking credit for your songs for years.

And soon enough the end of July came around and the album you wrote––Zilla’s album––folklore, was released to the world.

The public’s reaction to this album was more than you could’ve imagined.  It started off as an album with no inspiration, just meaningless stories, but it morphed into an album that you held close to your heart.  It had your true feelings, real experiences––that might’ve been exaggerated just a little––but it was still an album based on personal experiences.

And while it only got an eight on Pitchfork––two points off from a perfect album––Rolling Stones gave it a 4.5 out of 5 rating with possibly the most beautiful review Rob Sheffield ever wrote about your songwriting.  You made sure to hound Zilla to send him a thank you basket.

It might’ve been your favorite album you’ve ever written, and while you sipped on a glass of red wine at the album release party, all you had to do was look over to see Shawn’s laughing face to know why it was your favorite album.

He was still clueless that you wrote the album.

He still didn’t get any of the signs you gave about being the true songwriter.  It was always you writing with Shawn while Zilla pulled him away to go out to an expensive restaurant. And while he still looked at Zilla like she was the most inspiring songwriter of today’s generation…He was starting to look at you the same way.

The inspiration behind the album came from everywhere.  It was mostly centered around your frustrations with Zilla and how most of your regrets lied with signing that contract at sixteen.  No matter how hard you tried, it still felt like you wasted most of your potential writing for her instead of yourself.

But then Shawn came into the studio that one day.  He came in and your perspective changed.

You took another sip of red wine as the opening chords of the 1 started to play around the small venue ZIlla rented out to celebrate the release.  Bitterly, you took another sip of wine, as you looked at the boy who inspired the song and threw an arm around the person you despised most in the world.

If one thing had been different…If you were the person who rightfully got credit for your work…Maybe it would’ve been you he threw an arm around and pulled in close to his chest.

Your wine glass was still half full, but you tossed your head back to finish it off.  And when you brought the glass down, you saw Shawn turn his head toward you and offer you a wave.

You tightly smiled back at him and whirled around to the bar to get yourself another glass of wine.

You took full advantage of the open bar Zilla provided and another glass of red wine was placed in your hands.  And as you tasted the alcohol hit the back of your throat, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of them.

If only all of your wishes came true.

----

“And we’re back!” James Corden cheerily smiled at the camera before turning to face the three guests sitting on the couch.

You were backstage watching with Shawn as the crowd clapped at the “return” from the commercial break.  While you never went with Zilla to any of her interviews, you started tagging along to them to fit your “assistant for Zilla” cover story you told Shawn.

And with folklore released just a few weeks ago, you had accompanied Zilla on more than enough of the press tour.  You were back in L.A., which eased your spirits a little, but it didn’t ease the bubble of animosity that you felt toward Zilla every time she talked about her experience writing folklore.

“So, Zilla,” James started off, “Congrats on the new album––folklore.”  Everyone cheered and a smile lit up her face as James continued to praise her songwriting, “I’ve got to say, it’s probably my favorite album of yours.  It’s so different than anything you’ve ever written before.”

Zilla crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knees, “It was…It was a totally different experience writing this album, and when inspiration hits you just have to get it all out…”

As Zilla went on about her fake inspiration for the album, you tuned her out.  You could care less about what she thought the songs meant, but when you heard James bring up a little segment he wanted to do with Zilla, you felt your heart jump to your throat.

James deviously smiled, “As one of the greatest songwriters of our generation––Oh, stop blushing you know you are––I think we should play a little game.”

Zilla let out a small laugh, “Oh?”

Even though you couldn’t stand her, you knew when she was nervous.  Her foot started to bounce and she ran a hand through her hair as she quickly looked down at the ground.

And before James explained his little game, you felt someone rush past you with an acoustic guitar in their hands.  You felt your stomach churn with anxiety because Zilla had already performed on the show, and she was the only musical guest on the show.

The crew member rushed on stage to hand the guitar to James and then quickly ran off.  Your eyes widened and you felt your breath come out short.

“We here at the Late Late Show are obsessed with folklore––and even more obsessed with your songwriting.”

Oh no.

James handed the guitar to Zilla who took it with shaky hands, “And we challenge you to write a mini-song. Right here,” The crowd cheered, “Right now.”

Oh no.

Your jaw dropped the same time as Zilla’s and she whipped her head to look backstage at you with petrified eyes.  

“Oh, James…” Zilla nervously laughed as one of her hands gripped the neck of the guitar, “You can’t just write a song in that amount of time.”

One of the guests spoke up from the couch, “But earlier you said that it only took you seven minutes to write the chorus of hoax.”

But there was a small little detail that everyone was missing.  It didn’t take Zilla seven minutes to write the chorus to that song…It took you seven minutes to write it.

Zilla glared at the guest, “It needed some tweaking after––”

James let out a loud laugh and waved her off, “Oh stop being modest,” he then turned in his seat to face the audience and speak into the camera, “After the break we’ll have a brand new little song from singer-songwriter, Zilla!”

The crowd erupted in cheers while both you and Zilla stood frozen in place.  Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think Zilla would be in this position.  Before every single interview or T.V. appearance, Zilla had her manager carefully pre-screen all of the questions and segments she would be part of to make sure nothing like this happened.

“This is exciting,” Shawn bounced on his feet, and for a moment, you forgot that he was standing next to you, “She always changes topics whenever I try to talk songwriting with her.”

This was definitely not an ideal situation for either her or you.

“That’s…” you looked around to see the audience excitedly talking amongst each other.  You heard one girl in the front row say how she couldn’t believe she was going to witness the Zilla write something in front of her.  You were beginning to feel increasingly hot with ever second that passed, “That’s one way to put it.”

“And we’re back!”

Zilla’s head whirled around again to look at you, but you turned your head to the side to try and find the nearest trash can in case you threw up.

“Zilla…” James started off with a smirk, “You just sat here looking off to the side…I’m hoping you heard the music in your head.”

The audience laughed, Shawn laughed, and Zilla just sat there in silence.

“Well, go on then,” James gestured to the guitar, “Play us what you wrote.”

At least Zilla knew how to play the guitar, and she started off strumming a random chord as she let out a shaky breath before singing.

“Oh…You make me feel like the sky…So…Blue,” you visibly cringed at her lyrics and were reminded as to why you were hired.  But as she continued to sing, you started to feel more and more nauseous, “Oh…I wish you made me feel like…The sun, so bright and…Yellow.”

Everyone was silent.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off her as she still had her eyes shut tight.  You knew exactly how she was feeling; embarrassed, nauseous, and utterly humiliated.  You took a peak at Shawn and saw that his mouth tugged down in a frown, lips slightly parted, with his eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

James’s stare was blank before he let out a forced chuckle, side-eyeing the audience, before he turned his attention back to Zilla, “Nice warm up, but now, let the magic flow and sing us the real song.”

Zilla opened her eyes and took in a deep breath, “That––I told you––You can’t push inspiration.”

James nodded his head, eyes wide in surprise at how Zilla snapped at him.  Zilla was always poised, always charming everyone in the room, and never had she ever snapped at anyone in public before.  Her jaw was clenched and you saw her shoulders tense up.  

“I––I get that,” James tried his best to de-escalate the situation, “But you––your songwriting––You’ve always been so vocal about how you can write so fast, even without inspiration––”

You were surprised Zilla hadn’t snapped the neck of the guitar in half with how strong her grip was on it.  She glared at James, “Well, I’m just not feeling it today––”

“I could’ve written something better,” the guest next to her laughed, which caused the audience to laugh along with them, as they continued their teasing, “Might need to take away your songwriting achievements––”

Zilla snapped her head to her right, turning her anger away from James, to the unknown actor who sat next to her, “I hired the best songwriter in in the business. She writes only the best for me––”

“––Because what you just sang was horrific.” They finished off their sentence.

For the third time tonight, you froze.  All of the second-hand embarrassment you felt when she sang disappeared and was replaced with absolutely nothing.  You had no thoughts––You just felt empty. You only had a feeling of absolute devastation, paired with a slight ringing in your ear, as your throat closed up.

You thought that her revelation couldn’t be heard by the actor talking over her.  You thought that no one caught her slip up.  But with the stunned look James had on his face, a few audible gasps of confusion from the audience, and Shawn stiffening up next to you…You knew that she blew her own cover because she didn’t know how to keep her cool.

James cleared his throat, “Your…Songwriter? You have someone else write songs for you?”

Zilla’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as she realized her mistake, and her face lost color, “Well, no––Of course not––It’s me––I’m my own songwriter––”

The other guest to Zilla’s left let out a snort, “There’s no way you wrote exile––”

“And we’ll be back after the break!” James interrupted the trio on the couch before Zilla completely lost her head.

Right as the studio lights lit up more of the room, Zilla tore off her mic and stormed off the stage.  Her hands were balled tight into fists as you could visibly see her face turn a darker shade of red with each stomp she took toward you.  You felt your heartbeat stop as you noticed her fiery glare was tunnel visioned toward you.

“She––You write her songs?”

Oh, shit.

For a moment, you forgot that Shawn was standing next to you because all you were focused on was the death glare Zilla continued to shoot your way as she walked toward you.  You had been at the end of many of her glares, but nothing compared to how she looked at you now.  Everything she had built her career on was crumbling and you knew she was going to blame you.

You rapidly shook your head, and when you looked up at Shawn, all you saw was betrayal and sadness, “No––Of course not––How’d you ever come to that conclusion––”

“You’re always in the studio when she’s supposed to be there,” Shawn cut you off, “She never wants to talk about songwriting while you––we’ve––been writing songs together,” his eyes widened as you saw something click in his mind, “Invisible String…” His voice tapered off as he mentioned the song, “You––You said you were just holding onto it for her.”

As you felt your heart plummet down your throat and into your stomach, you continued to shake your head, “I was just holding it on for her––It’s not––I––”

“I gave you a suggestion to change a lyric and it…You changed it,” his eyes that were full of despair suddenly narrowed at you.

Your voice cracked as he took a step away from you, “Shawn––”

He shook his head, “You lied––”

“This is all your fault,” Zilla shouted at you as she took hold of your elbow, spinning you away from Shawn to face her wrath, “If you could’ve––”

“How is this my fault?!”

Zilla shook with anger as you saw fire in her eyes, “It’s just––You,” she stomped her foot as she continued to throw her tantrum, “It’s all your fault!  If you hadn’t been so caught up in writing with Shawn you would’ve been more focused on me.  Because newsflash,” she took a step forward, “You still work for me.”

“You––Y/n?  So she is your ghostwriter?”

Zilla’s eyes widened because she forgot that Shawn was also backstage with you.  And she basically just confirmed everything she tried so hard to deny when she was on stage.  

You were long forgotten as Zilla turned to face Shawn.  She tried to take hold of his hands, but he shook her off and took a step back, “It’s––We have a partnership––We both write–––”

“You take credit for the songs that Y/n writes,” Shawn said it more as a statement than a question, but his voice was still one of disbelief.

Zilla’s face crumbled.  She knew the only hold she had on Shawn was that he thought she wrote all her own music, “Shawn––”

“Zilla,” her manager came rushing toward her with panic written all over their face, “This––This is bad.  We need to do some serious damage control––”

“The show––It’s pre-recorded,” Zilla hastily said, “Can’t we––Is there any way we can pay them to edit it out?”

Her manager grimaced as they shook their head, “Someone had their phone out, recorded the whole thing, and posted it to Twitter.”  Zilla let out a noise that was a mix between a cry and whine, “Billboard already has a whole article written.  TMZ is having a field day…” Her manager rubbed their temples, “It’s really not looking good.”

This time, Zilla did let out a soft cry as she tilted her head back to look at the ceiling.  Everything she built her career on––The authenticity of songwriting––It was over.

“And you,” her manager gave you a disinterested look, “You should probably leave.  If people saw you two together they might think––”

“Loud and clear,” you grumbled at them, not feeling the least bit sorry that Zilla had a meltdown on television and that it was all on video.  This was the Zilla you knew.  This was the “famed” singer-songwriter you had to deal with for years.  She was rude, nasty, and the most self-centered musician in the industry.

With a deep breath, you were about to turn around and leave, but if this was how they were treating you after everything you gave up for her, you wanted to make one thing clear, “Don’t ever come to me asking for another song again.” You angrily breathed out, “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer as I expect that she,” you glared at Zilla, “Violated some term in the contract by admitting to having a ghostwriter.”

You whirled around, hoping that would be the last time you saw Zilla until you had to meet again to officially terminate your contract.  When your back was facing her––all you heard was her crying––but you couldn’t find the one person who deserved an apology.

Shawn was gone.

----

Two months after the public meltdown Zilla had on James Corden, people were still trying to figure out who the ghostwriter was.  But unlike the day you signed the contract at sixteen, there was an extra person who knew that you were Zilla’s ghostwriter.  Shawn was added to the list of you, your roommate, your entertainment lawyer, Zilla’s manager, and Zilla herself that knew your secret identity.

Zilla had come out with a tearful apology less than twenty-four hours after multiple music publications came out calling her a fraud.  And the next time that you saw her in person was with your entertainment lawyer to terminate the contract.  When the contract was labeled “null and void” it felt like the chains Zilla had around your wrist were broken.

And ever since Zilla confirmed she’d been working with a ghostwriter in her tearful YouTube apology video, the internet had not stopped searching.  In her video she said, “out of respect to the writer I worked so closely with over the years, I’m not revealing their identity.”

It was a low blow.  Because everything about that sentence was a lie.  The two of you never worked close together on any songs and you knew she had little to no respect for you.  She made that clear during the years you worked for her.  

Even after everything…You still liked the anonymity that came with the deal.  Especially now, if you were to come out as her ghostwriter, you would have the attention of the world.  And while you wanted credit for your work, you didn’t know if you were ready to be put on that stage yet.

But the thing that killed you the most was not being able to explain everything to Shawn.

He hadn’t responded to any of the messages you left him.  You felt a pang of pain in your chest whenever you pulled up your messages with him and read back through your texts.  You listened to the voice notes he sent you a three in the morning when he was struck with inspiration and you mourned the ridiculous selfies he sent you.

You had taken up a hobby of cooking complicated recipes, that needed your full attention, to keep yourself from hyperfocusing on the regret you felt by not explaining the situation to Shawn sooner.  As you put the beef wellington in the oven, coming to a painful understanding that you would probably never hear from Shawn again, your phone dinged on the counter.

Two months after not hearing from him…He sent you a text.  It was simple, and to a stranger looking in on your friendship, they wouldn’t know what it meant.  But you understood it loud and clear.

Music lesson in twenty?

You yelled out to Mia––telling her to keep an eye out on the oven––as you grabbed your keys and dashed out the door.  After you buckled up, you sent him a response––of course––and broke about every traffic law in the book as you raced to the coffee shop you always had your “music lessons” at.

Your park job was pitiful, but it didn’t matter, because you made it to the coffee shop in a record thirteen minutes with only one person on your mind.  Automatically, your feet carried you through the coffee shop and to the back patio.  You were about to sit at an empty table when you saw that your music partner was already sitting at one.

He was slumped down on the chair, arms tightly crossed over his chest, and even though he was wearing sunglasses you knew that he saw you enter.  But unlike all the other times you had your music lessons, he didn’t jump up and wave his hands above his head.

Like routine, you weaved through the tables until you got to him.

You stood in front of him for the first time since the James Corden incident, and even though you could feel the irritation he felt toward you…You noticed two cups of coffee on the table.  He had his usual black drip coffee and there was a cappuccino.

“Light on the foam with an extra shot of espresso,” Shawn mumbled.

You didn’t know what to say.  So you didn’t say anything.  You promptly sat down and circled your hands around the mug.  Because even though it was October, you still felt cold in California.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments longer; Shawn was still slumped in his chair while you sat with perfect posture, wanting to be ready for anything that came your way.

It was a silence that came when two people understand each other.

You let out a sigh as you looked at the latte art this particular coffee shop was known for, before you looked up at him with wide apologetic eyes, “I––I know saying sorry isn’t enough of an apology.”  Shawn stayed slumped as he nodded his head.  You saw your reflection in his sunglasses and gulped, “And not telling you because I was contractually obligated to keep quiet about being her ghostwriter…” you let out a pathetic laugh, “Just sounds shallow and shitty.”

“Why’d you do it?”

Why did you do it?  

Truthfully, you didn’t think you had it in you to captivate the attention of record labels and you didn’t think you were interesting enough for a fanbase.  Your plan was to hopefully get a publishing deal, write songs for that specific music publishing house, and have various artists cut your songs for their albums.  But then you caught Zilla’s attention.  And just like how she was with everything else in her life, she was selfish and wanted your talent all to herself.

Wanting to stall before you answered, you picked up the cappuccino and took a sip, but even beneath his sunglasses, you could feel his hard stare on you.

You sighed, “I––I didn’t like the idea of being in front of people.  I was sixteen, didn’t want to be pulled away from home, and I felt like I was better suited for writing and not performing.” 

You tapped your fingers on the side of the ceramic mug, “And before I knew it…Zilla heard one of my demos floating around a publishing company, liked it enough to cut it, and then it turned into signing a contract with her to be her ghostwriter.”

Shawn shook his head as he leaned forward, taking off his sunglasses, tired eyes staring straight into yours as he rested his elbows on the table, “Why’d you let her pretend that she wrote your songs?” 

Shawn briefly covered his face with his hands, before looking at you with a pained expression, “As a songwriter, I can’t…Just thinking about someone else claiming my feelings as their own?”  The look he gave you made you want to hide in a cave for the rest of your life, “Why did you do that?”

You sucked in a breath and shrugged your shoulders, “I––I’m not sure.”

He nodded his head, not because he understood your answer, but in understanding that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of you.

“How’d you do it?” He stared straight into your eyes, not backing down until he got this answer out of you, “I looked at the songwriting credits and they were all under her name.  I searched every performing rights organization database and saw that she––you––whoever––was with B.M.I. And I called the people I knew there and they said that they didn’t have anyone by your name.”  

He let out a defeated sigh, “The only person they had registered for her songs,” the fact that he couldn’t even say Zilla’s name had you smiling just a tad, “Was a Zilla Greene.”

You nodded with a sad smile, “That’s me.”

Shawn tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows together, “No, that’s not––Zilla Greene––That’s Zilla, not you––”

You shook your head and held up a hand to him, he quickly stopped talking and let you explain, “When Zilla approached me to be her ghostwriter, it was her manager’s idea to have Zilla––whose real name is Willow––perform under a stage name that synced up with a pseudonym for me.”  Shawn slowly nodded his head, “So that way if anyone were to look at the songwriting credits and search her up on a database,” you gave him a pointed look, “It would just look like it was still her stage name. First name, last name, and all.”

Shawn let out a small laugh of disbelief, “I can’t believe you pulled it off for years.”

You shared his laugh and took a sip of your coffee, feeling a small sense of dread in your stomach, “And it would’ve kept going on if she didn’t practically admit it on James Corden.”

The atmosphere went back to feeling tense.

“So, are you…” Shawn lifted his head and looked at the people sitting around them, before he leaned into the middle of the table, whispering, “Still her ghostwriter?”

You let out a small laugh as you shook your head, “She technically broke our contract so, no,” you genuinely smiled for the first time when talking about Zilla, “I don’t write for her anymore.”

Shawn took a sip of his coffee before he mirrored your smile, “All this time…” He looked at you with a hint of remorse, “Whenever I told you how much I wanted to write with Zilla,” he smiled sadly, “I was actually writing with her.”

You nodded your head, “Don’t feel bad,” you waved him off, “I knew the whole time that it was me you wanted to write with.”

Shawn rolled his eyes and lightly nudged his foot against your leg under the table.  At the gesture, you didn’t try to hide the blinding smile that overtook your face.

“I was literally fangirling over you in front of you,” he briefly looked down at the table, letting out a chuckle, before looking back up at you with soft eyes, “And I didn’t even know it.”

You smirked, “Don’t worry, it still boosted my ego all the more.”

Shawn let out a loud laugh as he flipped you off just when you were about to take another sip of the drink he bought for you.  

“So…” Shawn started off slow, briefly breaking eye contact with you, “I’m not sure if you’re comfortable with it yet, but I…I’d be honored if I could credit you as a songwriter on my next album.”

After years of being brushed under the rug, years of someone taking advantage of your feelings for their own monetary benefit, having Shawn saying he would be honored to credit you––actually you––for your work…You felt yourself get choked up at the thought.

You sniffled, trying to hold back the small tears of joy you felt behind your eyes in, “I would really appreciate that.”

Shawn’s smile was wide as he nodded once at you, before he leaned over to reach for something under the table.

He pushed his songwriting journal over towards you and opened it up to a page with music notes.  You looked down and his messy note placement as you heard the composition in your head.

“So, I’ve been practicing arpeggios,” you looked up from the journal to see a sheepish smile on his face, “And while the sound of broken chords sound really cool,” and again, under the table, he brushed his foot on top of yours, “I’d like it better if the chords were together.”

You smiled as you felt a familiar warm feeling in the pit of your stomach cause a shiver to run through your whole body.

“Together,” you repeated his words that most definitely held a double meaning, “I think I’d like if the chords were together, too.”

taglist (add / remove yourself!): @adelaidestreets, @alilovesshawn, @alina--jpeg, @fallinallincurls, @lights-on-mendes, @mendesficsxbombay, @now-that-i-saw-u, @particularnarry, @shawnmendez, @shawnsreputation, @turtoix, @vinylmendes, @5-seconds-of-mendes, @pupsandducks @musicalkeys, @madatmendes @im-salt-but-not-salty @sunkisseddreamer, @crossedties @fortheloveoftheaussies, @illuminatepotter , @par_r, @perfectlywrongsm

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ugejwusiyaiegajfhf anon u gave me the most severe brain rot for this owl house au and i want to draw it so bad but i can’t !!!!!!! anyway major spoilers under cut for the owl house season 2B

so kakashi as hunter makes the most insane sense to me like that’s so big brained of u anon i feel so galaxy-brained even thinking about it!!!!! kakashi being not even human or witch, not even Born he was literally Made. his sense of identity, which is is main crisis as a kid in naruto, is here too and that’s so!!!! yes!! and then danzō as emperor belos who made kakashi as a replacement for tobirama, his best friend of years ago (yeah depending on if it changes or not i’m aging tbrm down so this makes sense lol), and saying “what a shame. of all the others, you were the one that looked most like him” OH MY GOD!!!!!! like kakashi as a tobirama reincarnation (in a sense) makes so much sense!! and just. god the angst of danzō killing him over and over again through these reincarnations because he hates what tbrm became so much :’(((((

and ok ok i just. i need several minutes bc i’m shaking just thinking about this but kakashi’s identity rooted entirely in what danzō fed him, finding out danzō’s actually a HORRIBLE person who deserves to die a million times over but still not being able to completely separate himself from him because that’s all he knows??? like he doesn’t know how to make decisions for himself yet????

and and and minato masterminding a whole plan to take danzō down from the inside, faking memory loss to remain unsus, pushing kushina away when all he really wants is to be with her and take down danzō together

AND KUSHINA AS EDA???? don’t even get me STARTED she would be SO FUN!! like i love eda so much and kushina is the perfect replacement for her :33 just a silly gal!! not taking stuff seriously unless it needs to be, helping obito and trying to understand him, giving him all the advice he needs,,,,,,,,

and i’m thinking tenzo as willow bc listen!!! tenzo getting a little side arc of “i’m tired of being viewed as ‘weak’ and etc by my peers, i’m going to get stronger” and not only physically stronger, but socially too???? like going out, making his own club, recruiting people and being a leader? PERFECT!!! and rin as amity, but i don’t think she’d play the same role—she just doesn’t strike me as mean in any world lmao. i think she’d be more avoidant of obito because of her reputation and his reputation, but not outright mean. and then they finally become friends and just. they’re so good for each other!!

and obito’s constant crisis of wanting to go home but also having found a new family and living the life he always daydreamed of,,,,god listen i relate to that so hard i’m going to preheat but just hear me out. obito maladaptive daydreaming so hard all the time, forgetting to take his meds, wishing he could just leave because he keeps disappointing his mom with his grades and he doesn’t know how to fix it because he can’t entirely control it…finally getting what he wants, a wizard world!! then going back to the human world thru the portal, finding out that he’s been replaced (eh whatever they’re cool too and they take care of mom) but that also, his mom wants him to come back? forever??

like he’s of COURSE he wants to go back, he misses his mom so much, but her not being able to understand that he’s made so many friends here?? and that he’s been making important decisions for himself and they’ve all been good so far, and that he can be independent??? GOD. GOD FUCK FUCK. I LOVE HIM OKAY I LOVE HIM!!!!!!!! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

i’m biting my fingers i’m going to chew my hand off I LVOE THIS!!! and literally don’t even get me started on worldbuilding and the other characters bc i haven’t even THOUGHT of who darius will be or how obito, rin, tenzo, and kakashi’s relationshil will progress or—