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#i love the repeated lyrics/songs flowing into each other on the fear of fear especially
dust-n-roses · 10 months
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ok I’m getting a bit obsessed with Spiritbox guys
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unsaid-stardust · 4 years
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JATP Week Day 3-- “Touched by The Stars”
Prompt: Write a fic focused on your favorite ship 
Pairing: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson 
Julie found herself in the studio late one night, unable to fall asleep. Insomnia was nothing new to her. Especially when melodies flowed through her veins and lyrics filled her brain. But, during that dark time, her year without music, she  forced herself to repress those things and one what helped her to do that, was by going to sleep; She couldn't write songs when she was dreaming. 
She could think of all the lyrics and melodies that she wanted to in her sleep and forget them easily the next morning. It was the perfect pastime. 
But now. Now that she had music back in her life, it’s all her what her brain seemed to do. Write lyrics, that is. And it seemed like that year of sleeping all the time gave her all the energy for this year; the year of falling back in love with music. Or in other words, her insomnia was back and there really was no use in fighting it. Especially when she had an excuse to let it all flow out now. 
Except, that night, it wasn’t. She had had a couple lines stuck in her head all that day:
Melodies on repeat, it’s all coming back to me. This is how it starts, lighting strike to the heart. 
The ironic thing about it all, was that she couldn’t find the melody. Usually, for her, they would occur simultaneously. But, for whatever reason, for whatever excruciatingly annoying reason, that didn’t happen. And so, that’s how she ended up chained to her piano, mindlessly plucking at different keys in an utterly mundane motion. 
“You know, a song usually has more than one note, Jules,” A voice came from behind her making her jump, her hands smashing down on the piano in the process creating a shrilling tone.
“Oh my gosh! What’d I say about sneaking up behind me!” Julie stated, throwing her hands out in front of her. Luke smirked with a slight chuckle before sliding onto the piano bench next to her. Julie was too frightened to noticed how close he was before, but oh did she notice then. 
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to. Whatcha working on? Sounds exciting,” Luke teased, clearly avoiding another lecture, which Julie will give him later, as he bumped his shoulder into hers, sending a shiver down her spine. 
Julie still hasn't gotten used to the whole “ghost-band touches” yet. Mostly because it was so new, but that wasn’t the only aspect of it. The main thing she hasn’t gotten used to is the way it felt to be touched by a ghost and how it’s different with each of the boys, Alex’s always had a subtle layer of warmth underneath his ghostly coldness. Reggie’s were mainly cold, yet she could sense the overwhelming sense of empathy along with it . And Luke’s....
Luke’s were so many thing. Cold and warm at the same time like Alex’s and filled with empathy like Reggie’s, but there was something else. Something that Julie really couldn’t put into words, but something that she had felt before; the moment she had passed through Luke that night in her kitchen. 
It was almost like his touch opened a book. A book filled with his emotions. HIs worries and fears. HIs hope and ambition. And...something that Julie hoped he felt when she touched him.
“The melody to a lyric I’ve had stuck in my head all day. I just can’t find it and I've been sitting here for hours. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Julie answered. Julie slouched down towards the piano, focusing her eyes on the black and white keys instead of the pair of eyes that she felt like she could fall into.
“Well, I know what helps me when I'm stuck,” Luke stated. Julie allowed herself to look up at him, curiosity getting the better of her,
“Really? What?” She asked. Luke sent her one of those soft smiles that Julie loves so much before he raised his hand out in front of him, signaling Julie to take it. 
“C’mon, I’ll show you.” 
Julie looked down at his hand for a brief moment. She really wanted to just stay in her little burrow that was the studio, but she trusted Luke. He was never one to take someone away from music, he was always the one running full speed towards it anyway. If he thought it was important to take her away from the piano, then she did too. 
She grabbed his hand then and she hoped that Luke was too busy taking her to wherever he was taking her to notice the shiver that was sent down her spine. She wondered then, why he didn’t just tell her where to meet him so that he could poof there. It definitely seemed much better than walking and what’s the point of having ghost powers if you don’t use them? Julie pushed those thoughts away though, because if he had poofed to wherever they were going, she wouldn’t have gotten the excuse to keep holding his hand.
Luke opened the doors to the studio and led her to a grassy area in her backyard. He stopped there and let go of Julie’s hand before he proceeded to lay down on the grass. Julie continued standing, a little sad that he wasn’t still holding her hand, but more so confused as to why he took her to this spot. 
“Uh, Luke? What are we doing here? This is just my backyard?” Julie questioned, looking down at the boy laying on her lawn. He seemed unfazed at Julie’s confusion.
“Yeah. And you’re Julie, I’m Luke, the sky is blue, I know. Just come lay down,” He answered, chuckling softly in the middle of his sentences, patting the grass beside him. Julie rolled her eyes at his oh-so-amusing comment, but ultimately, did as he told. 
It was then that Julie noticed the stars above. They weren’t that vibrant and there weren’t that many, they lived in Los Angeles after all where the stars were located on the ground. But, she still couldn't help, but feel that amazement towards the little balls of gas hanging up there in the sky. 
It was silent between the two of them for a moment as they both absorbed the same awe of the sky above, but soon enough, Luke broke it with a clear of his throat.
“I’m always so focused about the music that sometimes I forget it’s helpful to be still for awhile. Alex and Reggie taught me that. I’d sometimes get over-passionate about the music and that’s all I would be able to think about. So much so that I’d forget about my friends...” Luke paused, licking his lips in the process.
“my parents... the people and the life that moved around me. And I’d forget that those are the very same things that inspire me to make music in the first place.” Julie moved looked up at Luke, her cheek lying against the cold grass. Luke stayed where he was, frozen almost, as he gazed up at the sky. It was then that Julie wished she could draw. The scene out in front of her would make the most beautiful painting of them all.
“So, when I was at the very same place you were, hitting the same string on my guitar over and over again and scratching out lyrics all over my notebook, the guys brought me out here and told me to lay down. There aren’t that many stars, but that’s not the only thing that’s beautiful. It’s the silence of the world at night that’s interrupted by the breeze passing through the trees or a car passing by. It’s the noise of the things that remind you that you’re--well.... alive.”
Julie felt her lips part. She had never seen this side of Luke, but it was at that moment that she realized she had felt it. It was there when she passed through him that night in her kitchen. Amongst his worries and fears. His hope and ambition. And....that something else. 
She understood it then. That something else. It wasn’t just what she hoped he felt when she touched him, but it was so much more; the feeling of fate. It might’ve been her mom that sent him to her or it could’ve been something else. But, whatever it was, Julie Molina was meant to meet Luke Patterson. She was meant to have this moment with him under the stars that were aligned for them.
And that’s when it came to her. 
Melodies on repeat, it’s all coming back to me. This is how it starts, lightning strike to the heart. And this is my favorite part, it’s all been written in the stars. 
The melody. She was mindlessly singing under her breath next to Luke who she didn’t even notice was facing towards her, his eyes beaming with that something else she had felt in her kitchen.
“ok, that’s killer! Think I could find--” Luke paused for a moment, looking back at Julie whose eyes were drowning right into his. HIs lips part; voice getting soft. 
“the harmony?” He finished, never breaking his gaze away from the sight next to him. Julie was never more glad to be in the dark, for otherwise, Luke would’ve seen her cheeks turn a light shade of red. Somehow, she was able to find her voice.
“I think the stars beat you to it.” 
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oliviaischillin1204 · 5 years
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music to my ears
Pairings: Platonic LAMP/CALM
Word Count: 4,272
Inspired by this ask to @fluffymary and this ask to @cefsticklestoo. thanks for all the amazing fics and creative inspiration, sensey and cef! y’all rock!
anyways, here’s my first sanders sides tickle fic (and my 2nd tickle fic ever!) it got... much longer than i was anticipating lol. please lmk if i haven’t tagged it appropriately, i’m v new to this!
Roman was a creative genius.
Yes, it’s true that he can, on occasion, be more insecure about his work than he lets on, but there are still plenty of times when even he can admit that his ideas are just that good.
Case in point: the three lees he’s got lying next to each other on the bed before him, hands tied to the bed frame above their heads. Roman couldn’t help but grin at his fellow sides, noting that despite Patton’s jitters, Logan’s trepidation, and Virgil’s nerves, none of them were trying very hard to get away. In fact, as Roman climbed onto the foot of the bed to sit at their feet, the three lees looked at him with expressions of curious anticipation.
“Gentlemen,” Roman said grandly, as if the trio were a large audience. “Thank you so much for attending what I’m sure will become a smash hit among music lovers everywhere… Roman’s Interactive Concert Experience!” Patton clapped his hands as best as he could in his bonds, while Virgil let out fake cheers like he was at a sports game. Logan stayed quiet, but Roman saw his amused smile.
“I hope you all are prepared for a magnificent concert experience,” he continued, eyeing each side with a grin, “starring me, of course, but featuring the mind palace’s very own: Virgil, Logan, and Patton!”
As he said each name, Roman let his fingers graze over the bottoms of their feet. He relished in the way each side reacted to the light, teasy touch: Virgil gasped and tried to pull away, Logan jumped and curled his toes, and Patton squealed and tensed his body in an attempt to stay still.
Roman smirked. Show time. “In fact, I think it’s time we get this show on the road! Starting with,” and here he grabbed Patton’s ankle, holding one foot in place, “you, Patton.”
Patton made a noise between a gasp and a squeak. “O-oh gosh, me first? Really?”
“Yes, really!” Roman said, using one hand to pull back Patton’s toes while the other wiggled menacingly in the air. “I need your help to sing our first song! Do you know which song it shall be?”
Patton didn’t answer, already succumbing to the nervous giggles he always got when he was teased. Logan and Virgil craned their necks to see Patton’s face.
“I think he needs you to lead him in, Ro,” Virgil teased. Logan nodded, smiling as he saw how Patton’s whole body squirmed when Roman walked his fingers up his soles.
“You’re very right, Virgil. Patton, allow me to start.” The dreaded fingers slowly made their way up his soles to the bottom of his toes. There was a beat of silence, until Roman suddenly dug his fingers under Patton’s captured toes.
Immediately Patton’s giggles turned into full laughter, head thrown back as his eyes screwed shut to avoid having to look at Roman.
“This little Patton went to the market,” Roman started singing, evilly scratching all around Patton’s big toe. Patton’s eyes opened in surprise at the altered lyrics, but he quickly shut them again as Roman continued.
“This little Patton stayed home.” He moved on to the next toe, giving it the same treatment. Patton cackled, stuck between trying to pull away and trying to stay still.
“This little Patton had roast beef, and this little Patton had none!” Roman slowly moved down the line of toes, making sure to give each individual toe enough attention. He scratched underneath, in between, and on the pads of each toe, using his nails to his advantage in order to make it feel as tickly as possible.
Eventually his fingers slowed, although he didn’t remove them from Patton’s foot.
“Can you sing the last line for me, Pattycakes?” He asked innocently, watching as Patton took deep breaths to get his laughter under control.
“And this little… Patton, went ‘wee, wee, wee’ all the way hoHOHOHOHOHOH!” Patton couldn’t even finish as Roman began raking his fingers up and down Patton’s poor captured sole, his laughter coming back twice as strong after his short break. He laughed so hard, in fact, that he finally reacted in the way Roman had been hoping for:
He started snorting. Loudly. Over and over and over again.
“Aw, Pat! Your little piggy noises are so cute!” Roman cheered, while Logan and Virgil laughed at Patton’s uncontrollable reactions.
“What a good singer you turned out to be, padre. Listen to that music!” Roman focused on scratching his nails on Patton’s sensitive arches, finally causing the moral side to try to pull his foot back. His knees bent as he tried to curl in on himself, but Roman’s grip on his ankle prevented him from rolling away. Virgil and Logan were overjoyed at watching Patton, typically a ruthless tickle monster, get reduced to a tiny ball of giggles like he so often did to them.
Roman’s fingers slowed so Patton could catch his breath.
“All good?” He asked.
Patton nodded, closing his eyes for a few moments. Roman let him rest for a few seconds, until:
“Don’t think I just forgot about your other foot, Pattycakes. How about we sing another verse?” And with that, Roman released his hold on Patton’s foot, and expertly switched to his other one.
Patton’s eyes snapped open in shocked delight. He screamed, his laughter hardly faltering as Roman gave his second foot the same horribly thorough treatment. By the time they got to the last line, he almost couldn’t say it at all through his cascading giggles and snorts, but eventually Roman finished, rubbing away the ghost tickles with care.
“That… was so much fun!” Patton said when he had calmed down a bit, chest heaving. He beamed at Roman, who leaned over him to untie his hands, allowing the moral side to sit up again. “This was a good idea, Ro.”
Roman smiled proudly. “Thank you very much, Patton,” he said, before straightening up and looking to his left.
“Now, then,” he said, smirking at the way Logan tensed under his gaze, “shall we continue?”
Like Patton, Logan could already feel himself becoming giddy from anticipation, which only got worse at Roman crawled over to straddle his hips. Roman placed his hands on the bed on either side of Logan’s torso, not missing the way the logical side tried to subtly squirm away from them.
“Are you ready to sing with me, my lovely Logan?” Roman asked. Virgil and Patton (still recovering his breath) watched as Logan nodded, mouth clamped shut to avoid letting stray giggles out.
“Then let’s begin.” With that, Roman placed his hands on Logan’s tummy, noting how Logan’s breath caught in his throat and his breathing got noticeably more controlled.
“Round and round the garden, like a Logi Bear,” Roman began quietly, skimming his fingers around the edge of Logan’s tummy. Already his teasing tone had a blush rising to Logan’s face, as he tried to hide his wobbly smile by turning his head into his forearm.
“One step—” He skittered his fingers down Logan’s tummy, lightly dragging his nails as well. Logan couldn’t stop his torso from twitching at the devilish touches.
“Two steps—” Roman made curly-q designs on Logan’s quivering tummy, wiggling his fingers firmer in the area just around his belly button. Logan bucked his hips and shook his head frantically, but still let no laughter out.
“A tickly under there!” Roman suddenly redirected his fingers to dive straight into Logan’s exposed armpits. Logan gasped at the unexpected feeling, straining on his restraints to protect his weak spot. He had no such luck, of course, and Roman continued to scratch his fingers into the hollows for some harder tickles.
Finally, Logan’s dam broke, and the other three sides relished in the rough, desperate laughter coming from the usually stoic side.
“Logan! You have such a beautiful voice! You need to sing like this more often!” Roman teased, grin growing as he saw the blush deepen on Logan’s cheeks.
“A-AH! RO! ROOHOHOHMAN, NOHOHOHOHOOOO!” Logan screamed, twisting his body back and forth to no avail. The constant scratching in his pits was bad enough, but hearing Roman’s coos as the creative side leaned over him made Logan feel so much more ticklish.
Roman pulled his hands back down Logan’s chest, skimming his ribs to get back to his tummy. “Now Logan, I’ve actually written some new material for you to sing with me. Can I teach you how it goes?”
Logan’s eyes widened, both in fear and excitement. “Ihihi would prefer nahahat—”
“Great!” Roman tasered his fingers into Logan’s tummy, on either side of his belly button. Logan cut himself off with a bark of laughter, slamming his head against the bed and arching his back involuntarily.
“Now, it goes a little something like this,” Roman began, rubbing his fingers in circular motions on Logan’s tummy, causing him to giggle uncontrollably.
“Round and round the mind palace—” Again Roman traced the diameter of Logan’s tummy, but this time he made sure to jab his fingers sporadically to make Logan twitch and jerk.
“Logi’s biggest fear—” Through his giggles, Logan whined at the repeated use of the embarrassing nickname. Roman heard his reaction, and laughed lightly before continuing his spiral.
“Is teasy, torturous, tickles—” Oh, if there was any side who could not handle the t-word, it was Logan. The sides knew from extensive experience that even hearing the word was enough for phantom sensations to flutter down Logan’s back, which the logical side hated. So, of course, everyone used it against him whenever they could.
“Especially right… HERE!” Finally, Roman dug a finger in Logan’s belly button. The logical side squealed, body frozen for a few seconds before he went limp. His head fell backward against the mattress, and his loud belly laughs flowed deeply as Roman twisted his finger around his naval, making sure to give the inner walls of the tickle spot plenty of attention.
After a while he pulled back, fingers skimming the skin to give Logan a slight break.
“Well, teach, what do you think of my new lyrics?” He asked.
Logan inhaled greedily, laughter still trickling out as he replied, “That’s not— that’s not— ahahahahaha— not your best work.”
Roman gasped with mock indignation. “Are you insulting my work?” As he spoke, Roman curled his fingers around to reach Logan’s lower back; his thumbs pressed into that sensitive stretch of skin where the tummy meets the sides. Logan froze completely, his look of petrified giddiness so comical Roman had trouble keeping a straight face.
He leaned over Logan, a dastardly look on his face.
“Are you saying… you want me to keep tickling you while I workshop it?” With that, he squeezed his hands, tickling Logan’s tummy, sides, and back all at once.
Logan shrieked louder than he had this entire session. He strained against his bonds, and tossed his body like a rodeo bull. “NO! NO NO NOHOHOHO, ROHOHOHMAHAN, PUH-PUH-PLEASE!”
At that, Roman knew he’d reached his limit. Logan never said please; it was as good as their actual safeword. Roman’s hands stilled instantly.
“Alright, alright. You’ve suffered enough,” Roman murmured, sliding off of Logan’s hips to let him breathe deeper. He took a moment to gaze at Logan’s face, his grin wide and blissful.
“Although, may I say, you gave an excellent performance,” Roman continued, tweaking Logan’s knee and making the tired teacher jerk with a giggle.
“No more, Roman,” he pleaded, not unkindly. “That was… a lot.”
“Aw, what’s the matter, teach? Can’t handle it?” Virgil interjected, looking far too pleased from watching Logan be destroyed.
Logan turned to look at him as Roman undid his binds. His eyes narrowed, sitting up suddenly to eye Virgil smugly. “You’re next.”
Virgil’s smile dropped. He turned to Roman with a sheepish expression. Roman responded with a smug look of his own.
“He’s right, stormcloud.” Roman maneuvered to sit on Virgil’s thighs. The two looked at each other for a beat, and Roman couldn’t help but laugh at the nervous grin that was worming its way onto Virgil’s face.
“What’s wrong, Virgey? ‘Can’t handle it?’”
Virgil blushed, but raised his chin in defiance. “Nope. I’m good.”
“Oh, good!” Roman said chipperly. “Because frankly, I think you need to take the lead on this one. I simply can’t remember the words, but I know it’s one of your favorites.”
Patton and Logan laughed, immediately knowing what song Roman had in mind. Virgil did too, unfortunately; he squirmed slightly as the tease made his tummy flutter.
“I don’t wanna,” he said, attempting to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“No?” Roman asked. Virgil bit his lip and shook his head.
“Well,” Roman sighed, pretending to ponder, “it may take some time for the words to come back to me. So while I attempt to remember, let’s get you warmed up!”
Without warning, he grabbed Virgil’s hips, digging his fingers around the sensitive bone. Virgil gasped, bucking upwards. He barely had time to process what was happening before he was thrown into a fit of laughter.
“STOP STOP STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP! ROHOHOHOHOMAHAHAN! I’LL SING IT! I’LL SIHIHIHIHIHIHING IHIHIHIT!” He whipped his head back and forth as the frantic laughter poured out of him. Roman almost didn’t want to stop, but then again, he was very much looking forward to this next song.
“Oh, you’ll sing it? How wonderful!” Roman chirped, leaning backwards to catch Virgil’s slightly murderous expression. “Did you hear that, everyone? Virgey is gonna sing a solo!”
Virgil scoffed, cheeks flushing. “Whatever.”
Patton aww-ed. “Oh, Logan, look at our little Virgey! Gonna sing a beautiful song for us!” He grinned cheekily at Virgil, who tried to glare back in return but failed, instead choosing to turn away with a flustered grin.
Roman scooted forward to better reach Virgil’s upper body. He held his hands over the emo side’s torso, hovering them back and forth before coming to a stop mere inches from Virgil’s ribcage.
He looked at Virgil with a delighted, expectant expression. “Ready when you are.”
Virgil didn’t meet his gaze. His eyes were locked on Roman’s fingers, wiggling threateningly in the air.
“Virgil, you appear to be frozen in either fear or anticipation. Are you suffering from stage fright at the moment?” Logan interjected. His clinical tone morphed into a tease as he added, “Is knowing what Roman is going to be doing to you while you sing a silly, childish song frightening you?”
Virgil shook his head quickly, smile widening as his face burned. “No— I just need a minute— ”
“That’s fine,” Roman insisted, wiggling his fingers with more purpose. “I’m just fine to stay right here. All. Night. Long.” With every word, he moved his hands towards Virgil’s ribs, making sure Virgil could see how close he was getting.
The anxious side suddenly burst into a stream of nervous giggles. “Ahahahahahahaha— okay, okay, okahahay, I’m starting!”
Roman watched in anticipation as Virgil took a deep breath and collected himself, steeling his gaze on the ceiling above him. The anxious side groaned once more before beginning, voice low and mumbled.
“The itsy, bitsy spider went up the water spo-owt!” He cut off the end of the line with a gasp as Roman started spidering his fingers up each side of his ribs. He snickered softly at the tickly, but bearable, sensation.
“Virgil, darling, could you sing a little louder, please? We all want to hear your beautiful voice,” Roman said sweetly, scratching his fingernails in the dips between his upper ribs. Virgil squirmed back and forth, trying and failing to keep Roman’s fingers away from his tickle spots.
“D-down came the rahahahain and waha-SHIT!” Virgil gasped as Roman dragged his nails down his entire rib cage, from the top rib right below his armpits to the bottom rib that led into his pudgy tummy. Virgil’s snickers intensified into shaking belly laughs, his smile wide and open.
“Go on, Virgey! Don’t stop singing!” Roman encouraged, as if he wasn’t being ridiculously distracting right now. He repeated the horribly ticklish motion down Virgil’s ribs, over and over again until the giggling side could get the line right.
“Wahaha-washedthespiderout! FUCK!” He forced the rest of the line out in one breath, quickly succumbing to the hearty laughs Roman’s fingers were drawing out of him.
Patton tutted. “Looks like you and I need to have a conversation about your potty mouth, huh, kiddo?” The dad side’s stern facade broke at the flustered look Virgil shot him.
“Yes, and perhaps I can assist in teaching him proper memorization techniques to avoid adding in extra lyrics for no reason,” Logan said with a smirk.
Virgil groaned again. This was torture. “O-out cahahame the suhuhun and drihihied up all the rain.” He paused again, barely fighting the urge to squeal as Roman blew a stream of air across his tummy, scratching his fingers in small circular motions.
“And the itsy, bitsy spider went up the spout again,” Virgil finished softly, eyes squeezed tight as he waited in anticipation for Roman’s next move. To his surprise, nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see Roman sitting up again, smiling at him.
“Thank you very much, Virgil. You did a wonderful job,” Roman said in a reassuring tone. He turned to the other two sides. “Now—”
“Is that it?” Virgil blurted without thinking. He wished he had a free hand to cover his mouth as his outburst drew the attention of his other sides.
Roman paused. “Well, that’s the song, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, but...” Virgil stopped, looking timid as he tried to think of what to say. He closed his mouth and looked away from Roman, cheeks flushed.
“But you did two verses for both me and Logan!” Patton interjected, picking up where Virgil had left off.
Roman furrowed his brow in thought. “Oh, did I?”
“Indeed,” Logan added, just as confused. “Especially considering Virgil is especially vulnerable to songs about... songs of this nature, then it would make sense for you to repeat the game with him at least once more.”
“A very good point, Logan,” Roman interjected, a slight grin appearing on his face. He checked to make sure Virgil was still looking away, then quickly winked at the other two sides. Patton and Logan both paused, smiling when they understood what Roman was doing.
Roman went in for the kill.
“Well, I suppose if Virgil wants me to keep tickling him, while he sings his favorite nursery rhyme for all of us, all he has to do is ask.”
Virgil froze, eyes locking on Roman’s face. A laugh escaped his lips before he realized what he was doing.
“Are— Are you serious?”
Roman grinned smugly. “Is that gonna be a problem, Virgeypoo? Surely a big, tough Dark Side like yourself doesn’t enjoy being tickled to tears while you sing a lovely little song about an ‘itsy, bitsy spider’— surely, that’s far too silly for someone like you.”
Every word he said sent jolts of ticklish anticipation through Virgil; he found himself twitching at the thought of Roman continuing to coo at him while his body was assaulted with tickles. The images in his mind were so vivid and exciting, he found that he couldn’t stop giggling, despite the fact that nothing was even happening.
Roman pretended not to notice the hyper-sensitive state the anxious side was working himself into. This was going even better than he’d hoped. “So I’m good to let you go right now, Virgil... unless, of course, you do like to be tickled, and you want me to keep going.”
Virgil’s face could not get redder. His giggles spilled out of him, amplified by Roman’s deplorable teasing and Logan and Patton’s laughter and his own embarrassment.
Silence fell over the group as all three sides watched Virgil continue to giggle to himself. His laughter quieted briefly as he shut his eyes, trying to forget that everyone was looking at him as he prepared himself for the next sentence out of his mouth.
“...Roman,” he mumbled through gritted teeth. “... Tickle me...”
“Sorry, what was that, Virge?” Roman asked, cupping a hand around his ear.
Virgil huffed. “Roman, tickle me.”
“That didn’t sound like a question,” Logan said. “More like a sentence fragment. Please rephrase your statement to a request.”
Virgil’s smile was widening; despite his attempt at keeping an hard exterior, he could feel himself crumbling. “Roman, will you tickle me?”
“And where are your manners, kiddo?” Patton exclaimed. “I know you know better than that! Now try again.”
“Roman, will you tickle me, please?”
Roman grinned as he got into position, straddling Virgil’s thighs and hands hovering over Virgil’s belly once again. “So close! Say it one more time.”
Virgil’s eyes flew open. “What for?”
Roman shrugged cheekily. “Just cause.”
“Oh my god— ” Virgil groaned, slamming his head back against the mattress. “Roman, will you please tickle me?”
“With pleasure.”
Almost before the words were out of Virgil’s mouth, Roman’s hands were darting at his stomach, clawing at his pudgy tummy with one hand while the other jabbed at random points along his sides.
Virgil shrieked, the rougher tickles causing him to skip giggles and go straight to screaming laughter.
“Come on, Virgeypoo. Sing the song,” Roman teased, having to speak up to be heard over Virgil’s cackles. He started to move his hands faster, up and down Virgil’s sides, poking the muscle with no rhyme or reason. Virgil’s laughs turned to gasps, his torso jerking back and forth to get away from the sporadic tickles.
“Thehehe ihitsy, bihitsy spihideher wehent up— ahahahaha! Up the wahahateher spout!” 
Roman laughed at Virgil’s reaction to the skittering, spidering tickles that were making their way up his sides. This time, instead of stopping at the top of his ribcage, Roman’s fingers continued their journey into Virgil’s poor, vulnerable underarms. He squealed, pulling on his bonds as he threw his head back and forth.
“Dowown cahahame the rahahahahain and-and-and wahahashed thehe spihihider OUT!”
Roman ignored this line in favor of a few moments more spent scratching at Virgil’s pits. The anxious side’s eyes bugged out. “Rohohohomahahan!”
“Hm?” Roman replied casually. “Oh, is it time to move on? Silly me.” He slowed his fingers, dragging them ever-so-slowly down Virgil’s ribs, making sure to dip them into each sensitive crevice as he made his way down. Virgil’s laughter turned breathy as he squirmed under the torturous teasy feeling.
“Out— out came the sun and— no!” Virgil shook his head frantically as Roman lowered his mouth to his stomach, his warm breath ghosting over the skin. He instinctively attempted to curl his legs up to his chest, but was blocked by Roman’s weight on his thighs, forcing him to stay stretched out taut to receive his tickles.
Roman grinned up at Virgil’s panicked smile. “Next line, Virgil. Or else I might have to start singing it myself, and I told you I don’t know the words. I’ll have to start over and over and over again, until I’m sure I got it right.”
For a brief second, Virgil paused in his giddy laughter, almost like he was considering if that would actually be so bad. But then Roman trailed one hand down to tease the back of his sides while the other scratched at his hip bone, and Virgil’s gasping laughter came back full force, and Roman knew he should start to wrap it up. Another time, maybe.
For now, Roman paused above Virgil’s belly button. He let his lips barely graze the skin, sending Virgil in slightly hysterical giggles.
“Out came— out came— hahahahahahahaha— out cahahame the suhuhuhuhn and driedupalltheRAIN! ROHOHOHOHOMAHAHAN! NOHOHO-NO!”
Roman chose to ignore the empty pleas; he could barely hear them anyway, not over the sounds of the raspberries he was blowing right on Virgil’s belly button. He had moved his hands off of Virgil’s torso altogether, focusing all of his attention on torturing his giggle button. Roman could hear Logan and Patton laughing at Virgil’s hysterics, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling against Virgil’s skin. The motion caused his teeth to scratch slightly against Virgil’s tummy, and Virgil snapped forward as far as he could.
“SANDERS!”
Immediately Roman was off of Virgil’s legs. He slid off the bed to untie his hands, but Patton had beaten him to it; Logan was firmly rubbing away the tickly sensations on Virgil’s tummy with the palm of his hand. The side in question sat gasping for breath, his cheeks stained with tears.
“Did I go too far?” Roman asked with concern, but Virgil was already shaking his head.
“No,” he assured the creative side, bleary eyes opening to peer at Roman. “You did god, Princey.”
Patton finally got his hands untied, and the three sides helped Virgil sit up, lightly rubbing his sore shoulders. An easy silence fell over the group, until Virgil broke it by speaking wearily.
“I, uh, I’m sorry I didn’t finish the song,” Virgil stammered, a faint blush rising again on his cheeks.
“Don’t ever apologize for using a safeword, Virgil,” Logan insisted, stern but kind.
“Yeah, we would never wanna push you too far, kiddo!” Patton said affectionately.
“Plus,” Roman added, smiling lightly, “You lasted way longer than I thought you would, so. You did great.”
Virgil shrugged at their reassurances, but he was smiling as he said, “Maybe... maybe I can try again sometime. You know. Do an encore, or whatever.”
Roman grinned, both at how Virgil was still playing along with his ‘concert’ game, and at the offer he was making.
“You know, Virgil,” he replied. “I would love to hear that.”
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itslaeshorseeh · 5 years
Text
To Condorcet
They were all turning left, the cars oncoming       While they in seats were listening to their tunes. The engine sound, amongst the turtles, humming,       Was loudly in their ears, this day of June’s, Which all combined, were coming down to summing       Up for a good one for the gnomic Runes, Which mark their hearts and mind with calendars, Of best and better of those gallant hours. Where the Columbian River flows and cuts,       Gem Of the Mountains, Idaho’s Basalt Formations, their ambitious earth abuts;       The light that had been strongly cast, a fault Would find for one thin ray, and then it puts       Itself out; day’s revolving, too, must halt. Well-wearied travelers their speed did check, As might befit in darkest hours, one’s neck. Of all the things that haunt men with a passion,       The blind discovery like of what was gemmed, Compares with that which later keeps its fashion—       They sensed, that out of vastness, from there stemmed, The answer self-sufficient laying at Ashton       For which they long, and flee from what condemned. They sought out sights and towns that they found rustic, On roadways leading to the russet dust, slick.
For now the cars could be seen in three miles       In each direction, when their eyes were dry From lack of sleep where roads to one point files;       And straight away the thoroughfare did ply One to reach the end; Auriga’s light brought smiles,       Being behind, the light still did not die, But like they bore celestial wings, gave wind, So they could reach Snake River Plain, their Ind. With all these Rocky and Cascade Range Mountains,       The din of suburb or the city stifles; What one could call a rat-race is all’s fountains,       Give or take, gardens ripe with green and trifles; There is so much that paying eyes’ account wins,       Especially what one sees changing by the eyefuls-- The patches grown, and the games over, women Who their expenses gained had as glum win.
They pared their hours with solid witticisms,       Such as, that without water, by it new ones, In the form of shadows, water pipes find schisms       And of the name take on just pipes; that show runs Not being trapped, to source the water’s prisms,       And being caught, would percolate for due fun’s. To bathrooms, would these runs belong; digestion Is how it should end, any solid question.
But those who have the props fill up and clean,       And ‘mong the qualities of bare things, it takes on A clean look when a thing of craft would lean,       And glide there on as crafts on seas wake ‘pon, To show of Memory that they are Dean.       Until the moment when rents come, the air makes gone A rosy hue, which all life girds, from sky To sea, and turmoil round with peace both dye. But beauty being one, a serum’s fast:       Their food they found like Cream of Mushroom: Campbell’s; And flattened what had contents made to last.       They found the curiosity that ambles, Which they saw as the countryside’s late past,       And hoped the stray spark would not light up brambles, When off their touchstone they then ventured answer, That magic made Astolfo a good lancer. Beside the road they could imagine spears:       Since strength was much in favor in a saddle Which gave a view and a good segue steers.       Besides that was the rune’s puissance in battle, Which made with it, endured itself thro’ fears.       These weapons thus inspire Perfection’s prattle, For which gleamed bronze-age gold, and now some truth: From Polydorus to Astolfo, myrtle’s ruth. Friendships that secret counsels lack are like,       One’s instant bowl of noodles without heat, Or, chains that fall again off of one’s bike,       Or, oranges that are not a seedless treat, Or, even worse, a starry student’s spike       Who does not have the chops to be elite: The friends who keep each other at their word, Are like two wings of an ideal bird. At Vantage on, they talked of old loves, still hurt.       They mentioned names that their hard memories tumbled, Such as Charissa who they knew a chill flirt,       For whom the boys like bumble bees oft stumbled. This peaked when young, like time made Curtis Gilbert,       Until suburban Exodus all humbled; Which they attempted now as in a race, To take the Void on as it took plan’s place. It happened when one least expected to,       Which was the facet skies cut out for those, Large clearings that had lake reflections blue,       And if one e’er came back the status quo’s, To Cherry Trees that gave Quad sections hue,       The quad profuse with cherry blossom shows, If not these, then, a call for a visitor For leaving out the Grand Inquisitor.
Tsunamis pummeled Hamadōri’s Sendai       When the Okhotsk plate slipped, in Fukushima— It was a cup of coffee grounds to blend dry.       Pacific plates went under Iwo Jima— They went around what was the river bend high—       And under the Vaughn Hubbard Bridge there gleamed a Nice spot where stopped Snake River’s affluent; Then, gone went particles with sediment. If wandering, one just needs to search life back,       The point? Not the Republic, Plato’s love, I’ll save myself more wondering by a knack,       It may have been the bee’s be-morse, where of The little dots they find their language’s track—       Fourteen, for me has always been the grove Plus Ultra: things that God once put by stream All healed together, Raphael would dream.
What stopped our predecessors from their ruling,       Must have been lack of speaking back to meter, I called upon the Fates, no-one am fooling,       As from a mold, the die cast as repeater, Then always blessed by seven! ‘Tis a cruel thing,       Thirteenth twin legions' lions! But O! how sweeter, ‘Tis that step over stream, that’s ne'er as neat, The Rubicon I crossed, with oaths to meet.
 One stream doth separate the perfect, dusting       Eternal gold, that sacred second seven! A chasm I would venture where it must sing,       Aeolian harps that play, are here in heaven, How long will play our visions we are trusting?       The scroll lights up and some power transferred—leaven, Since what makes these events occur is fourteen, Like Juno’s nurses, hiding what have more seen—
The thing most often missing in equation,       May be the units, fourteen passed three-fifths, That's one percent of one percent's, but weighs in:       Thirty-nine fiftieths by thousandths: myths That greenwood was, the coals to feet a basin.       A hero sees the world by breadths and widths. Imagine, what we leave to actuaries, Being caught in their likelihoods, like faeries. Like those who heard foretold, the thirty sucklings,       By backwards alpha and omega dubbed; As Saturn men gave sickles, and showed time luck brings,       This New Age would have perfect crossbows flubbed, And all have wandered in the sea like ducklings,       If not I with black bile spelled in, or rubbed— My luck began the same way it had ended, With just a spin-the-wheel, which just my friend did.
If Time was given Saturn’s name, and Light       Named Janus, weep the Reaper, Flee the Source! More often not, Perfection will not fight       With half as much this truth as its resource; But as Decay of the Omega’s quite       A problem when, it seems the fire grows hoarse, More increase I am obligated muse, I’ll pay back Death two silver, Time its news. The Rower might as well be down the Charles’,       At least from River Side, since that is far Away closed-off, a well that truth lets borrow this;       The Rower’s coxswain is a self-same star, As all the seven; England lends to war, earls, ‘tis       These apothegms like those not found to jar. The Rower a good coxswain was, for led It then the self-same spirit paths to tread. This Two-faced Janus served their Dionysus.       They paths had crossed beneath the starry Cetus, By Touchet on the road, then Lowden’s crisis,       Namely, the savages the French made weet fuss, A slaughterhouse, amid their guns’ devices;       T’ was four days fighting, signed a treaty sheet was; These plains’ hills roll, pass by around French Corner, Grande Ronde had formed Blue Mountains which adorn her.
From the Snake River flowed Grande Ronde, to there,       Where Mill Creek from the Willow Creek with Shaw creek, Formed many others, Summerville to share,       And from these, Hacker Creek with Coon Creek, all meek In various forms: My Muse departs from air,       And seems to use a logic that I seek; Frenchmen’s Springs Member flowed from Pendleton, And retched from earth, once ruined gentle din.
La Grande they passed, named by a Settler's mind,       His name was Charles Dause; Like him, Payette, Fur-trappers were, and make towns sound refined,       The front and end of their day's trail may fit, Around the tale of Baker City's find,       The senator that found the mess, they hit. The boats were not enough to cross Potomac; He gave his life, for which the town's a throwback. They passed the ghost-town which had tuff from flows,       The open spaces being found past hills, They went where tuff-stone quarries long repose.       Volcanic rock which porous in Italian bills As tufo, which consolidated, froze,       Its fineness prized, was reached by use of drills. At Weatherby, Express Ranch, between Lakes Paddock north, Lowell lower, housed some drakes. And here I take the course, themes to attend,—       If stars hold what we call the storied fates, Then O’! My Muse her song her voice will bend,       A lyric song that all depreciates, And still lives on, a token worn on end.       To prove a point, I ‘liven rabbles’ prates; This next one they will say is a heart-breaker, The left hand Zeus holds thunder, the earth-quaker. If systems hold the processes for casts,       The moral is not difficult to catch; Since fixtures in the skies eke out repasts,       Still, man has in this age, no plan to hatch, But thinking opportunity still lasts       For his best goals, and growing a new patch. I may say more and spin clichés retold, Where boldly gained are fortunes, hopes enfold. An octopus was secret nightmare, sealed—       Sir Marinell had Ocean rear up gold, Whom shores of Cyclades had dropped a shield,       Like Jove his dimmed escutcheon extolled, And by the prophecy no woman’s field       Is, I was given it by all, and I foretold— There I had seen, in seven of their mix, One thing I called six hundred-sixty-six.
The rat-race and its fountains these were not;       The valley pass beneath the town of Lost Blue Bucket held the tale of gold not sought,       Then, Malheur from across He-Devil tossed. The hills as big as canyons here have got,       Changed colors with the season, as with frost. The one regret some have when they are twenty, They finished college--Caldwell had their plenty. The foothills green, were dotted, Basin Big       Sagebrush and Curleaf Mountain Mahogany, The foothills north of Boise, lit a sprig,       Which they saw in the Sagebrush-covered lea. They raced their way through like the Topgear Stig,       Inside their shared Landrover, had to be By Mountain Home when Rocky Bar was haunted, Then passing Cleft, the country curved as wanted.
The mountains being footing for a Hermes,       Had snow untouched that nothing would remove, Until they showed his passing on their firm freeze,       When snow-caps, bent, contained a watery groove. The foothills having snowmelt were one term, keys,       And locked until the spring, which it made move. Once past a field of wheat, the path had taken Scene-hunting to where inclines needed break-in. The road’s Chalk Cut, they ham went through what’s Hammett,       Glen’s Faery King Hight Hill-Bliss said, “Tuttle! A boon abounds abroad, big is its gamut.       Reach for the Craters of the Moon by shuttle, Where there are dreams deferred there where they cram, bit       By bit, the landscape with their dart-ends’ cuttle. The two accepted, filed ‘ere bad behavior, And Hagerman and Buhl passed by, depths wavier.
King Hill-Bliss’ remark they saw as artful:       Since faeries feast on fresh-squeezed honey, famine Was felt by tiny peoples what by part, full       Ravages so that they have less to cram in, Less honey milk on honey cakes’ dessert bowl,       Which for a boon, these heroes sought the shaman, A shady friend who in his hut was suited Beyond Shoshone Falls, and not secluded. The Shaman lived in Murlaugh, on a strand.       From Tuttle did the two then go to parley, The two had plans involving talks that spanned       A windy plain of wild growth: groats from barley Owned by King Hill-Bliss, left by sprites of sand       From Morpheus, were made to rot and gnarly. To fend off ergot, they learned fungicides Were not the answer, but to find fey guides. Scale insects they collected for their Faerie’s mana,       Their sweet saps in glass jars secured, was filled, Once hands that grasped like hands to strip some fauna,       Of course, a looser grip would bugs make chilled. Accretionary shapes smelled like banana,       Plus like a mashed-up serving of it milled, When on the circular rim, sap fell clumped, All thanks to Sage advice, built up what’s dumped.
The honeydew filled up, like cotton white,       And the scale insects seemed disturbed, and shaken; It may have been the sunlight’s cause, the light       In ultraviolet spectrums that they bake-in, But Western Pines have shade, which anchored tight.       From Tuttle then to Burley, pains to slaken, Just as the Murlaugh Seer said, wild food Was gathered off of trees where bugs had poo’d. The honeydew was to their tastes, a sweet.       The faeries there restored what was of blight That made the rye fields like-smells secrete       To cleanliness from honeydew-fed might, And, then, the sickly parts cast off the wheat       Made fungi lesser seen, though once spread quite. Though question one might how the faeries, fed, Had this new problem from a source that spread? The fight had always raged, beneath our noses,       When bees went home and hives retched up and built, ‘Twas with the stolen honey that one goes less       For when the arbors closed their lives, ungilt. They had much better food, from nuts than roses,       And being taught in magic, made pans tilt, Without them having ever left their verdure; But they were summoned by the sound of merger. The mason stamp was honey-bear-like contoured,       And with a customary twist, and toss, Of which friends heard a clatter, it then sauntered       Before it came down after rolling moss. So leaving food, they made like Limbert onward;       It was enough, because as gloss, the sauce, To faeries seemed like stacks, and tribes as tall, And Burley was thus saved, and plumped were all. Cotterel was seen passed in distance: older       And held up kettles, while Acequia held, Its tributaries, and with tears to shoulder       Stood Minidoka, where its fountains swelled. Raft River taken, showed Snake River’s holder:       American Falls Neeley guarded, belled By nearby Bannock ‘round the corner, bubbling Across of highway eighty six, guts doubling. A ship could have a crew with names the likes       Of which the towns had: Chubbuck, Gibson, Blackfoot, And just because the way they saw it strikes       Truer this way, the Indians in tracksuit, Wapello even here, past Gibson hikes       Up to the shore of Firth, by Shelley’s jackboot. From Pocatello anabasis stretched, North, where in Ammon they passed plains far-fetched.
Aquila shines the Altair: Idaho       Falls was where carriers shined like boyhood that Laomedeians raised to fame, did. Though       Hebe was soon replaced, whose pants went splat, The Trojan Prince would goblets tend, that glow.       The Mount Olympus destination that The golden eagle carried him to, twin- Peaked, seconds better, not like “lettuce-win”.
Now finally they came and found potatoes:       In silos they like kernels reached the tops, And filled with earthy bodies at the Date’s close,       Where they would be shipped off to all these stops, From Rexburg which a Morman’s name its fate owes.       Fall River split off Henry's Fork, and drops At Ashton; land like Atargatis eastern. The two Three Tetons gave names which the beasts earn.
Three mountains, they were Ashur, Cadwalladr,       And Maruduk, the Grand, South, and the Middle Tetons. The winged sun, battle leader sure,       And Bull Calf. Instrumental to acquittal, The weapon Maruduk used in the war,       Imhullu countered Tiamat’s sprayed spittle By wind of four, so arrows wind of seven Had decompressed, then Kingu caused skulls riven. Like Cetus are most sea-beasts. Take Poseidon,       Who sent for sacrifice, Troyano’s fairest. Then Laomedon, Cetus quelling, tied on       The cliff his daughter Hesion, when he darest, And kept his horses, not his word, when fight gone.       For his last scion, Priam’s goods were rarest, Kept close in Polydorus’ hands thrusted, Until the greedy Thracians proved mistrusted. The Cliffs at Henry’s Lake not far from Ashton,       Had springs by Naiads blessed, and trumpeter Swans there inhabited, the avian lashed in       The arms of Leda, Queen of Sparta, her, For Zeus unlike Semele who he mashed-thin,       Swan Valley tucked like Crete, a swan’s form pure, That not unlike Pleiades guided feeding, And so was Helen got by unplanned breeding. The rainbow trout caught there at mountain footsteps,       Were pass-times even when the Milky Way Displayed its naval in the autumn, loot depths       That only twenty feet hid by the bay, Which the Black Mountains showed in strokes by mute reps       Of ripples at the borders’ interplay. The nation here went where, as if Great Plains Were like the edges of a world space drains. At Old Ranch Steakhouse were the patrons, Melson,       Who was just shy of twenty, and his sage Father who was at graduation, belts in       A suit and tie, asking why a steak would gauge Better cooked well-done, to the taste buds—melts in       The mouth less if it is not kept off fire’s rage;  The cooking not as important in the steak’s life,  As blood and sauce that gleam around their lake’s knife. The diner’s wooden handrail mostly gleaming,       Drew on new patrons  under lanterns minds had, The waiters basked in screens, and kitchens steaming,       The décor featured pioneers of kinds bad, The clattering in the kitchen that made more absent seeming,       The hanging LED screens that new finds had,  Of advertisements, opportunities,  In flux, of mattress sales, or Moon trip’s fees. The polos on  the waiters had full contrast:       The intermittent light between shrubs, The age displayed, one a dimension fast,       Where vehicles could make tremendous subs, Artificial intelligence unclassed.       The question why we live, to have like Tubbs, The sight was clear, though far away, and hilly, And there were sales to make, by land made still free. For Papa had for just the traveler       Three years before, bought him an old manual land Automobile, that from the grounds made gravel stir,       With foot-wide tyres. With it had Melson planned For every place to host artistic blur,       This owing to time which passes quickly, grand, As well as to traditional senses found, In taking stock poetically of ground. They paid the waiter, passed beneath the corn sheaves,       Which covered door jambs, before they departed, From one another, so this had left the torn sleeves       Of Modern Liberty of limbs full-hearted, The light it bore which being smoothly as morn leaves,       Which made the niche bear out perfection charted; For youth was wasted if you never grew up, And Melson thought he must, for plans he drew up.
The Heritage High roof, a spacious car,       Reliable though at the cost ‘tis said, That owners of this car date less by far;       Was for cross-country travel, which time bred Exclusively for trips shown popular       By travel agents that hid in the head, Of artists and survivalists, as one, Must suffer for their art: times pleasure shun. Art was a job collectivizing surveys,       And like the minnow on a crocodile Had made the task of cleaning points, but verve pays       To the fresh-forming bubble: where folks stayed a while, Not for too long, since the attractions serve days,       Their share of their due fun, paid back each mile That had required their time, first sights ignored: Like when bald eagles knew from eyes that soared.
So Nature needs a spirit to take Notice.       If things are seen apart, they take disguises, So are like newer revelation made to focus,       So are the sites attracting crowds whose sizes, Are thinner like Odysseus’ fed Lotus-       Who back home sent were, but new Trojan prizes, Were left a means of a recovery Pushed for when Melson sought discovery.
Since art is like an inspiration solid,       Not being abstract, it refit its owner, Though more than complimentary, all Id,       Especially these days the algorithms’ tones, sure, Make simple pages less like where a shawl slid,     Less like where sunlight on floors were plants’ honer, Than an artistic muse, like landscape blogging Which was, in general, the calling for his hogging.
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no i get it!! everyone has their own preferences on who/what they listen too and i totally respect that! and i’ve never heard urban zakapa but i will check them out!! they sound interesting!! i listen to kard and akmu tho!! i really love them! i saw kard live a few years ago and it was really amazing! one of my favorite concerts ever haha. but lemme see, what about comebacks? what is your favorite comeback(s) of 2019? i had so many!!
It’s really sweet of you to say that! Not many people are that understanding.
Urban Zakapa has such an interesting sound! Definitely more on the ballad side of things, but if you like ballads, two male vocals, and one AMAZINGLY POWERFUL female vocal, you’re in for a treat! A personal favorite of mine is 널 사랑하지 않아 (I Don’t Love You). 
Oh my gosh, you’re so lucky!! I bet the concert was amazing! I had the opportunity to see KARD live in 2019, but I had to make the choice between KARD and TXT (the timing was very close to each other, so I couldn’t make both), and I ended up choosing TXT. Now, that killed me a little bit inside, but I didn’t regret it at all! The concert and high-touch was amazing and they were so sweet and careful about their English pronunciation, and even though they were exhausted at the end, they never broke eye-contact, and they always tried to smile. 
...how dare you hit me with this question? We’re gonna be here for hours now! 😂 I’ll try and make the list as short as possible, but I demand to see yours as well! I’ll strip mine down to a Top 10 (in no particular order and excluding debuts, even though I really wanna include them!!) 
I’ll also try not to repeat artists more than once. If they had multiple comebacks in 2019—I’m looking at you, Ateez, Oneus, Stray Kids and SF9—I’ll try and just pick my favorite out of them, though I shall probably die in the process. 
Pray for me and visit my grave. ✌
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My Top 10 Comebacks of 2019
#1. SHA LA LA - Pentagon
#2. Boom - NCT Dream
#3. Fear - Seventeen
#4. Sweet Chaos - DAY6
#5. Run Away - TXT
#6. Nostalgic Night - Victon
#7. Savage - A.C.E.
#8. Say My Name & HALA HALA - Ateez (It was a double-comeback, so I’m not cheating!!)
#9. Levanter - Stray Kids
#10. Tattoo - The Boyz
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HOLY CRAP, THAT WAS A DIFFICULT PROCESS-
There were so many more that I wanted to add. :’) In the end, my finial contenders (in a list of 21, including my final ten) looked a little like this:
Runner-Ups That I Couldn’t Include
All Night - Astro (Died choosing between All Night and Blue Flame, but since Moon Bin was absent for the Blue Flame promotions, I chose All Night. Especially since I have a poster of it up in my room~)
We Must Love - ONF (Probably my all-time-favorite ONF song, but Why is on par with it, so I had a super tough time choosing between the two of them. I ended choosing We Must Love because it was before the loss of Laun—the maknae—and I miss him.)
Enough - SF9 (Never make me choose between Enough and RPM again. I’ll fight someone. I ended up choosing Enough because no matter how long I go without listening to it, I still remember all of the sounds that go along with it. It’s always in the back of my mind.)
Boy With Luv - BTS (I felt like I was being a betrayer to my ult group because they weren’t in the final ten. 😂 But, hey! What can I say? There were just other songs that I liked more, I guess. Still! It’s one of my favorites, and I was beyond lucky to see it live in concert. It made it all the more better!)
Focus - Kim Donghan (This one was suuuper hard to eliminate, ‘cause since it came out, it’s been my duet jam with my sister. We always sing it together, and BOY, do we get mad if the MV buffers or gets blurry for a second. We’re prepared to kill at that point.)
Twilight & LIT - ONEUS (It wasn’t a double comeback... Just a crisis, ‘cause I couldn’t choose.)
Sage - OnlyOneOf (Literally just- wow. One of the coolest songs I’ve heard in a long time. Each of the members has a specific vocal tone and color, and I love the flow of it, if that makes any sense.)
Numb - CIX (Some of my favorite lyrics in any song, if I’m being honest.)
Come - NewKidd (One of the most addictive songs in the world. “Rosa, rosa, rosa, rosa~ Mia, mia, mia rosa~” is gonna be stuck in your head all week.)
Obsession - EXO (Center Chanyeol ended me, and that’s the end of my discussion. Also- those high-notes?? We’re not gonna go there.)
360 - Park Jihoon (The choreography is one of my favorite things, and the entire song gives me such a peaceful feeling—like I could just lock myself away and not have to worry about anything for a while.)
I’m so sorry that I couldn’t add you babies, but I made the rules, and I’d hate to be a hypocrite. ;-; Love ya, though!!
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I’m really excited to hear your thoughts! Thank you for the challenging, yet entertaining question. ^-^ I probably wasn’t meant to think about this so much, but oh well. XD Sorry for the lengthy answer—I hope it wasn’t too messy!
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jinterlude · 6 years
Text
Andante, Adante
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↳ header is made by yours truly. I do not own the rights to the image used.
➳ Pairing: Kim Junmyeon x Reader (female OC)
➳ Genre(s): College!AU, Professor!AU, Romance, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, & Slight-Angst
➳ Words: 3.5K
➳ Summary:  After witnessing your friends become broken hearted over and over, you have vowed to never fall in love. You even develop this tower around your heart in order to protect it. So, what happens when a certain new department chair comes into the picture? Will he successfully tear it down or will he just further prove your worries right? 
The faint crackle from a record player slowly enters your ears. This warm, comforting feeling invades your heart as a familiar instrumental begins to sound. The signature sound of your favorite music group, ABBA, fills your office while you dig out a vanilla colored folder from your bag.
You didn’t have any class sessions scheduled until the afternoon, so you have a decent size break. A break that is needed since you’re quite behind on grading your students’ papers.
Why did you assign a ten-page research assignment again? Oh…that’s right…there’s this weird university requirement where the students must write at least two thousand words for the class before the semester is over—and apparently creative writing assignments do not count towards the requirement.
A faint scoff exits your lips as you shake your head, quietly mocking the stupid university requirement. You then reach for one of the many red pens that are bundled together in a mug. You pull off the cap and then put it on the end of the pen.
           “Alright…time to get to work…”
You reach for the first of many assignments and start grading…
Or so you’ve hoped…
Not even done with the second submitted assignment, your office door swings open but immediately slams shut. Then, heavy pants combine with the voices of ABBA, creating this sense of alertness within you. However, you remain focus on your goal. The goal of grading at least half of your students’ assignments.
           “Isn’t it a bit early for the theatrics, Sumin?” You question with little to no emotion, skimming the contents of the third turned-in assignment.
Soon, a soft yet impactful whine flows through your ears. Oh, goodie… you triggered her.
The younger woman pushes herself away from the door but not before locking it, praying that her loving yet extremely annoying fiancé hasn’t figured out that she’s hiding out in her big “sister’s” office.
She then maneuvers through the semi-mess that is your office and plops her cute little behind on the chair in front of your mahogany wood desk.
A faint amuse smile paints your lips as you peek up from the fifth submitted assignment that’s currently in your hands.
           “I’ll ask again, isn’t a bit early for the theatrics, little sis?” You ask again, waiting for her answer.
Sumin frowns and then cocks her head back; her eyes now glued onto the ceiling.
           “Why did I agree to marry him again?” She replies in a questioning tone of voice.
Okay…
That’s not the response you’re looking for.
           “Maybe because you love him and see yourself spending the rest of your life with him?”
           “Ugh…why did it have to be me?”
Your mind registers her question; a chuckle begins to brew within your chest. How fitting that she says that just as the song, that is titled with that question, begins to play. Who would’ve thought that a song which starts off so lively is actually about self-doubt and essentially one-night stands?
Slowly but surely the chuckle starts to surface. Even though you’ve tried your hardest to stifle it.
The last thing you want to is to annoy your rather adorable colleague—though—it’s quite entertaining to do so.
           “Let me guess. You were lonesome, almost blue, and it had to be him,” You begin, quickly masking the amused expression that wants to display loud and clear, “But you only wanted a little love affair so now you think it’s better that Seokjin forgets you.” You finish, thinning your lips to prevent the boisterous laugh that’s desperate to come out. Sumin’s face is freaking priceless right now.
Oh…her confusion is always the best thing on this planet. Well, besides ABBA of course.
Sumin opens her mouth but soon closes it, a bit unsure how to phrase her next set of words.
Her brows knit together. Tiny wrinkles form on her forehead.
Minutes pass and this look of realization dawns on her.
           “Did you just quote ABBA to me?” questions Sumin, a bit confused as she mentally repeats each lyrics that is being sung.
Finally, the laughter, that brews within your chest, erupts into a loud, lively sensation. Your boisterous chuckle bounces off the four walls of your office, mixing with the music that comes from the record player.
You nod; your laughter slowly dying down, yet you still have the amused smirk gracing your face.
           “But in all seriousness, why are you hiding away in my office?” You inquired, setting down yet another graded paper on its designated stack.
Sumin glances away from the ceiling, tilting her head down to establish eye contact with you.
           “Because, this is the last place that he’d—” Before she can finish her sentence, someone knocks on your door. Then, a person’s voice follows.
           “Princess! I know you’re in there!”
This look of dread washes over your friend’s face. Panic instills in her eyes as she grows unsure. What will she do? She doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. She especially doesn’t want him to think that she regrets accepting his proposal.
She slowly turns towards you and mouths, “help me…”
You make a face. You too are unsure on how to handle their unique situation. Then, an idea pops into your mind. Taking a page from one of your student’s essays, you decide to play couple’s therapy.
Without saying a word, you push back your chair and stand up. You feel Sumin’s gaze on you as you calmly walk over to your door.
           “What are you doing…?” You hear your friend ask as she becomes more anxious.
You grasp the door handle and swing it open.
           “Easy. I am mending your relationship with your fiancé.” You tell her, revealing a panting Seokjin.
Seokjin muttered a quick thanks as he strides right in your office.
Sumin unleashes a long, annoyed groaned, as she feels betrayed by you.
Oh well. She’ll have to get over it.
           “Why are hiding from me, princess?” He asks, taking a seat right next to her.
You chuckle softly as you make your way back to your desk. This ought to be entertaining for you. You plant your ass back in your office chair and move it forward your desk, closing the gap between. It’s always easier to grade papers and stay focus when you are close to your work table.
           “Yeah Sumin. Why are you hiding away from your doting fiancé?” You playfully ask, repeating his question.
Sumin rolls her eyes at your comment, silently berating you.
           “Because, I can’t take all of this wedding talk!” She practically shouts. Her emotions bursting out.
Seokjin’s eyes widen. His jaw nearly drops to the floor. He feels his heart tighten against his chest after hearing her comment.
You, on the other hand, let out a long wince. You’re just her friend and you feel his pain.
           “Then, why did you accept my proposal if you dislike planning our wedding?” He spat, allowing the hurt and anger to consume his mind.
           “I never said I disliked planning our wedding!”
           “That’s pretty much you mean when you said that you can’t take all of this wedding talk!”
           “I mean that I’m being overwhelmed, you insufferable twat!”
           “Oh!? So, now I’m being insufferable?!”
           “Right now?! Yeah!”
You watch the two of them go back and forth. You honestly feel like you’re watching a tennis match, that’s in a never ending rally. Both of them raising their voices to outdo the other. The insults gradually worsen.
Is this what love is supposed to be? If it is, then you’re glad that you’re single. It seems like love hurts…and it doesn’t help that you already have developed a tiny fear of it. You have seen your friends countlessly broken hearted after being dumped by the one person who has sworn to love them forever.
To protect yourself from it, you decide to focus on your work. You develop this giant wall around your heart, guarding it from any potential suitor that express interest in you.
No broke heart for you…
Not wanting to be yelled by your fellow department members, you shout, hoping to get their attention. Time to play, “couple’s therapy”, or else their relationship is done.
           “Okay…seems like you two have some pent up frustrations…” You begin, picking your words carefully as you don’t want to trigger them again.
Both Sumin and Seokjin scoff.
           “That’s an understatement…” mutters Sumin, crossing her arms over her chest.
Seokjin nods in agreement.
You purse your lips, exhaling deeply, as you think that you need to tackle this a little differently.
           “So, why do you guys have so much bottled emotions? Don’t you guys usually talk it out?” You question, leaning in your seat a little.
           “We do, but this fool right next to me believes that everything is just dandy once I apologize for my mistakes. He doesn’t even remotely admit that he was in the wrong too!” Sumin answers. Her voice raising a bit near the end.
Seokjin becomes offended by her words. He then refutes her claims by stating that he does acknowledge his mistakes, but it is her own damn fault for not listening to him. Then, that triggers her again.
You stare at them in disbelief as they engage in another bickering war.
For the love of God…
           “Okay! Enough you two! What you guys are doing has to stop or just fucking break up! You two constantly arguing over the littlest of shit is quite frankly toxic, and it makes me fucking glad that I’m single!” Your anger bursts out of your body. You breathe heavily, staring intensely at the two. You just want to get back to grading since your free time is almost over.
Both Sumin and Seokjin shyly glance at each other. Their hearts aching at the thought of them no longer being a pair. Something has to change or else they will have to part ways for the sake of their sanity.
           “I’m sorry.” They said in unison, looking incredibly apologetic.
You eye them oddly, feeling a bit confused at how fast they apologized. Maybe you will think about becoming a couple’s therapist as a side job. It doesn’t hurt to earn a little extra money.
           “It’s not like I’m fed up with planning our wedding. I’m just…feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything.” Sumin confesses, explaining her recent behavior. Though, she knows that doesn’t give her the excuse to be uncooperative.
Seokjin places his hand on top of hers, squeezing it just a bit.
           “What’s got you so overwhelmed, princess?”
           “Just that we got this new dean in my department, and I hear that he’s terminating people’s position based on the success rate of their students last semester,” Sumin pauses for a moment, “And as you know, I didn’t have that great of semester during the Spring…” She finishes as this look of concern washes over.
You eye your friend sadly, not wanting her to be fired over something so little. It’s not her fault that her students gave up halfway after seeing that her class isn’t this “throw away” class where you earn easy credits. No. Just like with your class, if you want an “A” in her class, then you do the work. Plain and simple.
As you open your mouth to say some encouraging words, the three of you hear a knock.
Your brows furrow together as you aren’t aware that a student has come to see you during your office hours.
You tell the couple that you’ll be right back as you push your chair away. You stand up and head over to the office door. You swiftly open it, not wanting to keep your student waiting.
           “I’m incredibly sorry. I wasn’t aware that I had someone scheduled to come in during…my…office…hours…” Your voice slows as you see a man, nicely dressed in a dark grey suit with his hair styled just a bit, standing outside instead of a student.
Oh…that’s extremely awkward…
           “Pardon my intrusion, but my name is Kim Junmyeon, and I am your new department head.” He introduces, holding out his hand for you to shake.
You remain standing there; your mouth slightly ajar, looking like a complete idiot. Your pupils dilate just a bit. You feel your face grow warm while your heart starts to race.
In short…you’ve become smitten with the handsome man in front of you.
Sumin, noticing that you haven’t said anything in almost a minute, peeks behind your body.
           “I apologize for my friend, she’s usually articulate in these types of situation!” You hear Sumin tease, forcibly pulling you away from your conflicted thoughts.
You lightly slap your face, pulling yourself together. Though, you’re certain that you just made a bigger fool of yourself.
Luckily…Junmyeon doesn’t think so. Unknown to you, he finds it a bit cute that you’ve become awestruck. Normally, that happens to his friends Jongin and Chanyeol due to how extremely handsome they are. While, with him, he deems himself as average. Seeing your eyes widen and your lips slightly open makes him feel—happy.
           “That’s quite alright.” He chuckles as he drops his hand, acknowledging that he’s not getting a hand shake, “I usually get that myself, so I know that feeling.” He says, smiling at you. He needs to stop though or else you might actually fall for him. “As I was saying, I am the new department head for literature, and I wanted to get to know my fellow colleagues.” He states, explaining his presence near your office.
You nod with a friendly smile.
           “Oh. Well, hello! I’m Y/N L/N, and I teach composition theories and practices and introduction to the literature of the United States and British Isles for this department.” You finally introduce yourself, feeling a bit proud of the subjects that you’re so graciously bestowed with.
Junmyeon can’t help but feel impress with your topics, especially with British literature. He always finds that subject to be quite difficult since British literature has a wide range of authors and eras with different issues that need to be known.
Yeah…it makes his brain hurt just thinking about it…
           “Well, it is nice to meet you. I look forward to working with you and maybe seeing you around in the office.” He says before bidding farewell to you.
You say a quick, “okay”, as you close your office door. Though, you swear that your voice cracked just a little. Great.
A long, content filled sigh leaves your lips. You remain still, alone with your thoughts. You try to wrap your mind around the fact that your department chair makes you this silly school girl with a crush. You can’t possible feel this way over someone you’ve just met. No. It’s not possible. Yes, you don’t deny that he’s handsome but, at the same time, it’s highly inappropriate to think so. You need to squash these feelings quickly.
With a determined smile, you walk back to your desk. Not to grade your students’ assignments, but to gather your class material as it’s time for your next session.
           “So…you’re not going to pursue him?” You hear Sumin ask, registering the playfulness in her tone.
           “Seokjin, can’t you control your fiancée?” You question, ignoring Sumin’s knowing smirk and the teasing gleam in her eyes.
Seokjin laughs, “Oh, I wish I could, but you and I both know that she does what she wants. I’m just here to make sure that she doesn’t get in trouble whenever you or Kat are not around.”
This time you laugh, agreeing with his statement.
           “Speaking of Kat, how is her relationship with what’s his face?”
           “Chanyeol? Last time I heard, it’s good, especially when she says that he makes her “wetter than a wet nap”.”
           “Gross. I didn’t need to know that.”
           “Well…you asked…”
A few weeks later, things have returned to normal. Well – as normal as they can be – since the semester is nearing the end and everything is becoming fast-pace. You still have papers to grade. Projects to assign to your students. It’s just one giant tornado of assignments that need to be release. You even have students coming up to you and inquiring how they can raise their grades. Now, that means you have to create extra credit opportunities. Which means…more grading…
Currently packing away your lecture materials, you say goodbye to each and every one of your students as they exit the classroom. You turn off the computer, making sure to grab your thumb drive in the process.
And just as you’re ready to exit the room, you hear someone knocking. They even announce that they’re knocking.
           “Ah, Y/N! I was hoping that I would find you here.” Says a familiar voice, causing you to smile.
           “Well, Mr. Kim, I’m always in this room until about 10:15 A.M.” You playfully point out as you walk over to the door, which Junmyeon politely holds open for you before trailing after you.
           “Of course, I knew that,” He scratches his neck nervously, “Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to grab a cup of coffee with me before your next lecture.” He says, trying his hardest to sound confident.
From what Sumin has told him, you like strong, confident people. Bonus points if they’re dorky and funny, which he is – or at least – that’s what his friends tell him. All. The. Fucking. Time. If only he hasn’t known them since their high school days, he would’ve gotten new friends by now.
           “I mean, if it is too forward of me to be asking you this, then I take it back!” He quickly adds, observing your long silence, as the two of you exit the liberal arts building.
You snap out of your thoughts, “Huh? Oh! You’re not being forward at all! I was just um recalling what I had to do before the weekend comes.” You explain with an apologetic smile, embarrassed about your actions.
However, Junmyeon waves away your explanation, citing that you never have to apologize for worrying about work. He adds that he understands completely. While, he doesn’t lecture as often as you do, he juggles his lecture position with his department chair position. And that is not fun whatsoever. There have been times he accidentally brought his lecture materials to his meetings with other department chairs and vice versa. So if anyone understands your struggles, it’s him.
And that is something that makes you feel appreciative. That is also why the wall around your heart is almost gone. Since the first day the two of you have met, you feel this strong pull. But – of course – you ignore them as you allow the fear of falling in love control your happiness. You even chant repeatedly that it’s inappropriate for two colleagues to even remotely express interest in each other.
So…why…?
Why has he continued to show a keen interest in you?
Ranging from leaving a nice fresh cup of coffee on your office desk to happily buying you lunch.
Seriously. His sweet gestures show no chance of stopping anytime soon – and it only fuels the warmness in your heart. Lately, you find yourself smiling softly or blushing like a fool whenever you see his little presents or even just thinking about him.
Hearing his name alone sent the butterflies in your tummy into a wild frenzy. And when you’ve talked this out with Sumin, that’s when it finally occurred to you.
You no longer fear love. You no longer fear the idea of arguing with him over something little. As you recall your friend’s wise words,
           “Honestly, you should worry when he doesn’t fight you on something. Seokjin arguing with me, here and there, shows that he cares enough in this relationship to let me know that ‘hey, I’m here, and I’m not going let some petty argument get the best of us.’ Most of the time, I’m in the wrong, and I freely admit that once I’ve cooled down and see his perspective of the situation.” Sumin smiles softly, “And, I wouldn’t have known that if he didn’t argue back.” She finishes before taking a sip of her peach flavored green tea.
If arguing means that he will never let you down, then you’ll gladly accept that.
           “Of course, I’ll love to get a cup of coffee with you.” You say. Your eyes practically beaming with happiness.
Junmyeon’s eyes widen in return. His heart skipping a beat. His tummy doing somersaults. To say that he feels like he won the jackpot would be an understatement.
He feels that the Gods of romance finally bestowed him the chance at happiness. He has never met someone who connects with him on a personal level before. Most of the time, it’s been fake. The women he unfortunately went out on a date with, only wanted to get to know his friends. Women only see him as this stepping stool to get to his friends but not you.
No…
You’re special.
           “Would it be alright if I call this a date?”
           “I’ll do you one better. Pick me up this Saturday evening at 6:00 P.M.”
           “Perfect.”
A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED ONE OF THE XMAS PRESENTS! If you can’t tell this is for @yehet-me-up Sarah AKA Suho’s queen! She has written me a birthday drabble last year and honestly, she’s just an amazing person. While, I do not talk to her about any problem that I have, I know that she would listen to my worries if I ever did. She is one of the brightest and warmest person on this site, and I just love her. She is like my Tumblr big sister, who likes to make me suffer here and there. I will forever be grateful to have her in my life and value my friendship with her. 
I hope you like this one shot! I may not be writer goals like you and Kat LOL but I tried my best, especially listening to the “Mamma Mia 2: Here We Go Again” soundtrack on repeat lol I love you Sarah! :) 
Side note: @yeoltidecarol I had to mention Kat and one of her infamous tags when it comes to Chanyeol ;)
Don’t forget to leave a comment/like/reblog/a message in my inbox! I love hearing your thoughts! :)
- Kim
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lover - first song ranking & thoughts
first of all i just need to say i legitimately don’t feel ‘meh’ about a single song on this album. on any other album. i always had one or two songs i was just kind of ‘take it or leave it’ about. but Lover really did that - they’re all amazing and wonderful. but here’s an attempt at an order of how much i love them!
18. it’s nice to have a friend
this really reminds me of you are in love in the way it recounts all the small gestures and steps involved in becoming close to somebody. it’s really cute and at the perfect space on the album, leading to daylight. not a mindblowing song or anything, but the vibe fits onto lover really well. i’m glad that it’s here 
17. you need to calm down
yeah, i cooled down on this one a little bit. it’s fun and the message is important, but me! is the better single tbh. still though, the feeling of empowerment this gives me over my nonexistent online haters is wonderful. and i love the attitude of the song of just looking at the assholes who live their entire lives putting energy into hating people and just being like....why are you like this. it’s pathetic. calm the hell down. so needed in our current debate culture
16. me!
a real grower! taylor and brendon urie have such good chemistry, tbh that’s really the backbone of the song. it’s just a really nice carefree spring/summertime self love song, a perfect soundtrack for when you feel happy and content with yourself. 
15. the man
just dropping the complete truth on us with this one. i’ve wanted taylor to make this song for years (and i know she said she’s been wanting to but just never found the right words!) the bridge really elevates this too. and it’s sad how relatable the entire song is in literally every aspect of professional (and personal) life for women. i don’t think it’s quite as strong as it could have been, but still really solid
14. i think he knows
this is like the fun version of dress. that’s all i got to say. just as explicit, but this time around it’s super cheeky and i love it. also goals of self confidence if i’ve ever seen them
13. paper rings
the joyful energy this has!! just makes you smile and want to dance immediately, a wonderful wholesome happy bop
12. false god
listen.....this is special. i absolutely think this is the most experimental song on the album, both in terms of the music (is that a saxophone in the bg?? it’s almost got a jazzy vibe? completely uncomparable to anything she’s ever done and still so distinctly Taylor), but also with the lyrics, where she goes into the love = religion theme which honestly....as a Florence + the Machine and Hozier fan, i don’t even need to go into how much of a vibe that is. I couldn’t have imagined it working so well for Taylor though, but honestly, this song feels perfectly brooding, summertimey, melancholy, - it’s almost like taking the darker underside of Cruel Summer and exploring it in depth! this is very much a song i need to be in a Specific Mood to really appreciate, but it’s damn well made
11. afterglow
i love the maturity of this. not just the apologizing for picking a fight, but explaining how it came to be - at the end, from a place deep seated anxiety. ‘it’s all me, in my head’ (those high notes are beautiful) you can really feel how sorry she is. at the same time, the song sounds like something bigger, like an anthem - almost like that place high above that she’s trying to elevate them to.
10. i forgot that you existed
SO MUCH FUN i keep repeating that but that’s just the mood of this album tbh, playful and mature at the same time. this song is just like, when you’re over someone but you just can’t help yourself and have to throw shade one last time before moving on. i love the bouncy beat!!
9. lover
this song is literally the feeling of ‘home’ in music. so cozy, comfortable, blissful. dreamy. perfect title track. also completely timeless - i think this is one of those songs that we will look back on in years as a classic in her catalogue, a song you will always want to play again
8. the archer
this was my definite favorite of the pre released songs. anxiety, doubts, the way they all just keep coming back and eating at you, it’s described so perfectly and painfully. and the production really makes it sound like you’re in a separate space from reality, just stuck in your head trying to find a way forward, to soothe yourself. the ‘they see right through me / i see right through me’ transition in the bridge is fantastic and keeps giving me chills. so much personal connection to this one
7. soon you’ll get better
feels weird to even rank this but......just wow. the harmonies with the dixie chicks are so beautiful, and the way the lyrics talk about the feeling between denial and desperate hope, the transition from “because you have to” to “because I have to” - I have to cling to this hope, or i won’t make i - it completely broke my heart. and the fact that Taylor can conjure all these complex emotions with just a guitar and a few words is incredible. i’m so so sorry for them and i wish all the best for Andrea with my entire heart. 
6. london boy
i already see people underappreciating this, what is going on??? there are multiple cute bouncy joyful songs on this album but this is my favorite because it’s just got a fantastic flow and melody, and i love all of the references to places and dialect specific words and it’s just so wholesome?? but what really makes this is (once again) the bridge. stick with ME im your QUEEN like a tennessEE stella mccartNEY, just the energy!! the fun!! excuse me while i listen to this every day for the rest of my life
5. miss americana & the heartbreak prince
okay, taylor’s brain in this one. i made a post talking about how this song has three layers - at first there’s the high school setting, then it references the ‘cancelling’ of Taylor’s public persona, but then it can also be seen as a comment on US politics and the whole climate of society right now. and it’s all tied together perfectly because high school is the perfect metaphor for this!! she’s basically saying we’re all behaving like immature school children, bullying each other for the stupidest reasons, mob mentality, stupid contests, fabricated stories made up to tear people down, and the feeling of loneliness but also fear and horror that comes with all that for the people who are the victims of it.....it’s literally all like high school in the worst way. i just love this concept, and the melody and production give me a little bit of a reputation vibe almost? which is perfect for the song, the dark dramatic vibe shows the feeling of fear most of all and that’s just....too real. 
4. death by a thousand cuts
........listen, i surely didn’t think that Taylor would write one of her best breakup songs in the year of our lord 2019, but here we are. it’s once again, the small moments she recounts. taking the long way home. the uncertainty if it will ever be fine again. and the bridge/second verse / whatever that part is but that entire part. ‘paper cuts from my paper thin plans’, excuse me. the fact that she wrote this about a movie where a couple breaks up after years really shows tbh, because it’s especially that kind of....not being able to find a part of yourself that isn’t influenced by the other person, that’s so horrible and makes moving on so painful. i also love the production which makes this sound so uptempo, contrasting the lyrics! idk the entire song just clicks into place for me
3. daylight
this is like a summary of the entire album (and with the reference to the past and especially red, it’s even connecting her entire discography together). it’s like the clean of this album, except this time around it feels more complex - all the subtle references to past mistakes, ghosts, that might not be so easy to wash away. i’ve already mentioned that i love about the album (and this song especially) how it doesn’t gloss over negative experiences but addresses them directly, like looking them in the eye and then saying ‘you don’t have the power to define me’. that’s what this song feels like - it’s not unabashedly celebratory, it’s actually quite melancholic, but also full of real healing, a feeling of peace and reconciliation. and the ‘i once believed love would be black and white / burning red, but it’s golden’.....excuse me.....how dare she
2. cornelia street
god, what a magical song. the kind of episodic buildup that Taylor excels at. the vibrancy of the production matching the vibrancy of the relationship as it develops, revolving around this one place in its multiple stages, and then the repeated, deep seated fear of losing all that. it’s just. ugh. what can i even say. and so so catchy. the “listen..” killed me. just like delicate, the vibe between fear and being drunk on happiness is so so well done.
1. cruel summer
oh yes. and here we have an absolute perfection of a pop song. incredible catchiness. smart, clever lyrics but also that underlying vibe of sadness and anxiety. seriously, the complexity this has?? and then that soaring bridge, the chaotic but beautiful but painful reality of all of it coming together. ‘i love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?’ idk this song just transcends everything for me friends. it’s like the vibe of out of the woods or maybe even style but the lyrics are even more sharp, they cut a little deeper, literally ‘summer’s a knife’. this is a song she only could’ve written influenced by reputation: there’s happiness but there’s that edge in it too. idk if anything i’m saying makes sense. i love this song so so so much. 
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nekoabi · 6 years
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On the Verge of a Heartbreak - Chapter 22
Things are really picking up now!!
Pairings: Moxiety Words: 3452 Warnings: Panic attack/Anxiety attack. Anything else, please let me know!
Summary: Virgil is worried and stressed, but his music lessons give him somewhere to escape to.
Virgil was completely unaware as to what had occurred over the weekend with Patton and a bunch of their friends, but he could get the feeling something was just a little bit off or was different.
It was almost as if he could feel each of them watching his and Patton’s every move, trying to catch them as they were talking alone. At least twice on that first Monday, Virgil had rounded a corner to catch Abigal peeking around it. She managed to laugh it off and come up with some sort of excuse, but Virgil could see past it easily.
He was definitely a little suspicious and more than a little unnerved by this all. He approached Ana about it, but they had no idea what was going on and hadn’t really noticed any difference, so Virgil started to doubt himself just a little.
This behaviour continued for weeks with Virgil getting more and more paranoid as the days wore on. Thankfully, he had his space to escape to twice a week with his music lessons.
Virgil pushed open the sound-proof door and immediately felt a sense of relief wash over him. No one would come and spy on him here, none of them would be staring at him and noting down his every move. He could truly relax.
He was a little early, having headed straight there once school had ended, so he set himself down with his guitar and just started to ensure his instrument was tuned properly.
Virgil adored his guitar. If someone were to ask him what he would save if his entire house caught on fire, he would likely reply with his guitar. It was something he was good at, something that he could do to get his mind off everything else in the world, it was something he was in control of. He practiced and cleaned it every day. It was necessary since it was a black guitar, meaning that even the smallest speck of dust or fingerprint would show up, but he loved so dearly that he was happy to simply hold it in his hands.
After checking everything, Virgil leant the instrument against the piano that sat in the room and dug around in his bag for the tattered notebook he still used. He found it and carefully set it up on the music stand of the piano, opening it to a page full of scribbles and doodles. After double checking the notebook was secure, Virgil picked up the guitar once more and began to play.
He easily got lost in the sound. This song had been years in the making. Sure, some of the lyrics didn’t work anymore but they did at the time he wrote them, and he really liked the way they sounded. He was finding it was almost finished, but he was just stuck on small details. A few notes stuck out to him and he wanted to change it, some of the words didn’t flow as well as he liked, but he was getting there.
Virgil didn’t even notice that he’d begun to sing the words under his breath as he practiced and played with the music. He took a pause to dig around in his bag for a pencil in order to change something in his book.
“That was adorable, Virgil.”
Virgil almost screamed as he jumped violently, his body flinging onto the floor as he toppled off the stool in an attempt to turn around and sit up at the same time.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” The voice squeaked, fear lacing every word, “I-I’ll just, just go.”
“No, it’s… it’s okay. You just surprised me.” Virgil was winded from his fall, but he still reassured the person standing in the doorway.
They looked at him cautiously, “Are you sure?”
“Ayana, it’s cool. Just, warn a guy next time? You’re so quiet.” Virgil laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
Ayana closed the door carefully, “Sorry…”
Virgil clambered up to sit back on the stool, checking over his guitar that had fallen in the chaos, “Ayana, apologies?”
“I know…” The girl ducked her head, her long hair falling around her like a curtain, shielding her from the world, “I don’t need to say sorry so much…”
They shared a gentle smile as Ayana seated herself on the piano stool, pulling out her own guitar. She was checking it was tuned properly when her eyes caught the notebook that still sat open on the piano. As nervous as she was, Ayana felt comfortable enough with Virgil to lean in and get a closer look. She only read a couple of the lines before she realised this was the song she’d walked in on Virgil playing.
“So… what’s this song for?” She asked, her curiosity not yet satiated.
Virgil quickly but carefully grabbed his notebook and put to his side, his cheeks turning redder with each passing second, “It’s nothing, just something I’m messing around with.”
Ayana flinched at his sudden movement, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry… It’s just… it was beautiful…” She looked up through her hair again, “It sounded like you were addressing someone…”
Virgil looked away and scoffed, face burning brightly even through his usual layer of foundation, “Uh, why would I do that?”
Ayana shrugged and made a soft non-committal noise, turning her attention back to her own guitar, “Maybe you have someone you care about… and you want to tell them… and the best way, you feel, is through music…” She strummed a few notes, her body visibly relaxing. She continued on to play a song.
Virgil watched her through the corner of his eye for a moment, before turning to fully look at the girl. He’d noticed over the years that they’d shared music lessons that Ayana became a totally different person when she played music; she became confident, at ease, relaxed, and it inspired Virgil - not that he’d say it aloud. He understood her, music made him feel entirely different. The only way Virgil could describe it is that he felt like he lived in a different world when he played any instrument, but Ayana was the one to truly show him what that looked like to the outside world. He wanted to show that to people, show people the power that music could have and what it can do to a person, how it can help those struggling the most.
A sudden snap and off-key note snapped both of the students out of their music-induced haze. They stared at the now broken guitar string in surprise. Ayana turned into a statue, looking at the broken string like it was about to attack her and she had nowhere to go.
“Ayana? Are you alright?” Virgil asked gently, trying to catch her eyes once he’d noticed she wasn’t doing so well.
Her voice sounded a little watery, “My brother’s going to kill me. Oh my god. Oh my god, I’m so dead.” Ayana started to ramble, just repeated over and over how she was doomed, how upset her brother was going to be, all the bad things that were going to happen to her. Tears began spilling down her face, splashing onto the polished wood of the guitar and her legging-covered legs.
Virgil wasn’t sure how to handle this situation. He was only now able to handle his own panic attacks, but he’d never tried to help anyone else. He knew he had to try, especially as Ayana’s body began to shudder and rock back and forth. Virgil knelt down in front of her, gently placing a hand on her knee before walking her slowly through some calming exercises he’d been taught by his therapist.
Once she’d calmed enough to stop repeating and was breathing properly, Virgil reached into his guitar cover, “You know, if you need to replace it, I have spares.” Virgil held up the small ring of guitar strings that he’d fished out from the front pocket.
Ayana looked at him as though he were an angel sent down to save her in this exact moment. She let him take the guitar from her grip and he got to work replacing the broken string. She watched over his shoulder as he went about restringing the instrument, “Are you sure it’s okay? I don’t want to take your things…”
Virgil breathed out a laugh, “It’s fine, honestly. I offered and you were completely out of it and upset. There’s no way I’m letting you leave being so freaked out.” Behind him, he could just about make out Ayana’s soft ‘thank you’. It took very little time before the instrument was back in Ayana’s hands, “There, as if nothing ever happened.”
The boy moved to sit back up in the stool, his eyes catching on his beaten-up notebook. He glanced between Ayana and his book, thinking hard. Did he want to involve her? He knew she wouldn’t tell on him or spread it around and he could use a second opinion… especially considering…
“Hey, Ayana?”
The girl lifted her head. She was in the middle of retuning the guitar and Virgil felt a little guilty interrupting her.
“Can… you help me?”
The shy girl looked at him in surprise. “Me? Are you sure?” At Virgil’s nod, she put the guitar down, resting it up against the other side of the piano, “I, I can try… What is it?”
Virgil moved his stool closer to Ayana’s and flicked open his notebook to that page he had open when she’d walked in, “First, you have to promise to not tell anyone about this, okay?”
Ayana nodded and held out her hand, pinkie finger extended. Virgil couldn’t help but grin at her playfulness. He linked his finger around hers and they shook on it.
“Okay, so… this song,” He held the double page open between them, “It is for someone… It’s, kinda… for Patton…”
Ayana made a soft squeal-like noise, “That makes it even more precious…”
Virgil ignored her, “And, I’m kinda just… stuck, y’know. Some of these words don’t work, and some of the notes just… feel… wrong. And I don’t know how to end it… Do you think you could help?”
“Can I…?” The younger girl asked, indicating she wanted to hold the notebook. Virgil released it to her, watching every moment she took intensely. He appreciated that she was so careful with it, as if she might cause it to dissolve by handling it too much. He watched as she pulled her hair away from her face to read the book she’d placed across her lap. There was a fairly long nervous silence as Virgil waited for her to speak again.
“Can I hear it again? Is that okay, Virgil?” Ayana asked suddenly. She followed it up almost immediately with, “It’s completely fine if you don’t want to. I just think, it would be easier to hear it, see how it plays, how you play it, all that. But it’s fine, really, you don’t have to. I was just wondering!”
Virgil laughed again, used to her sudden nervous outbursts. He picked up his guitar and positioned himself comfortably, “It’s cool, I don’t mind playing. I did ask you to help.”
He took a steading breath to calm the nerves that were buzzing around inside him. This would be the first time anyone but himself had heard this song, he never practised it out loud when his parents were home for fear of them asking questions or talking about it to Patton. But this was his chance, and he knew he shouldn’t waste it.
So, he began to play. He played the song just as he’d written it, all the bits he wasn’t a huge fan of and all the bits he loved. He felt himself getting lost into the music once again, but this time he wasn’t alone. Virgil knew Ayana was there with him. Part way through, he glanced up and saw her sat in front of him with her eyes closed, moving in time with his playing. Virgil found it endearing and continued.
The song ended abruptly. Virgil lay his hand down on the strings, quieting them. He raised his other hand to scratch at the back of his neck, “So, yeah… you can see that it’s, kinda unfinished…”
Ayana’s eyes now shone as she looked at him, “He’ll love whatever you do for him, you know that, don’t you?”
Virgil blushed and ducked his head, fiddling with the strings a little, “I mean, I guess… but I want to, make it perfect. It has to be perfect.”
Ayana simply smiled and began to try her hardest at helping Virgil with his song. It wasn’t the perfect way to go about this, considering both of them were anxious messes who didn’t want the other to think they hated their ideas and were struck with paranoia with every attempt at constructive criticism, but they found a rhythm eventually. They worked on fixing what Virgil felt was wrong, starting with the lyrics. Ayana seemed to have a natural talent for working with lyrics and words, which surprised Virgil, but he greatly appreciated it in this moment.
Both students seemed to forget they were meant to be having a formal music lesson at this time and were entirely lost in their creative process. The teacher watched and listened through a crack in the door, a pleased smile on their face. Something about this was wonderful to them, their two best students working on their own project together, without the need of their help. The door was shut quietly, and the teacher returned to their office a little way down the hall, letting the pair continue their work.
It was only once their session time was over that the teacher returned to the room. They still found the two working on their song, but this time they needed to interrupt. As they stepped into the room, the door was left to click shut on its own. The sound caused both students to jump and turn to stare at their teacher.
“I’m sorry you two, but it’s time to head home. Sorry I didn’t come today, I was swamped with just so much work.” The teacher lied, trying to quell the worry they saw on the two students’ faces. “But I see that you two found something to work on today, which I am very proud of. I hope you’ll be willing to show me?”
Both of the kids shared a nervous look. Virgil looked away first and nodded, settling back into the most comfortable position for him to play. The teacher rested against the wall next to the door and watched their student.
The song lasted for a couple of minutes, but Virgil was feeling his nerves throughout the entire thing. This was entirely different from playing it to Ayana; she was a friend that he knew really well, someone he trusted a lot. His music teacher was different. Yes, he’d known them for longer and yes, Virgil definitely trusted the adult, but he still wasn’t completely free emotionally to the teacher.
But he played his song, he played it as best he could through the nerves. He found them fading as he worked through it, finding his confidence with each passing strum and word. By the end of the song, Virgil had almost forgotten he was playing to his teacher. Almost.
There was a beat of silence once he’d finished where he looked up to the teacher through his hair, awaiting critique. Instead, Virgil got a smile and a light applause.
“That was beautiful, Virgil. Did you two make that up right now?”
Virgil shook his head, “N-no… I’ve been, sorta… working on it, for a while, and stuff. I just, uh… I asked Ayana to help, because I was stuck…”
“Well, you two did a wonderful job. I’m sure whoever you’re going to play this for is going to be pleasantly surprised.”
Virgil’s head snapped up and his eyes widened in fear. His face burned brightly again, “W-what! Who said it was for anyone?!”
His teacher laughed, “Virgil. Teachers pay attention. I’ve seen you and your friends around, I’ve seen you with Mr Ashworth. I promise, I have not told a soul and I promise to never tell a soul about this.”
Virgil was speechless. People knew?! Teachers knew?! What the hell! He turned to Ayana, looking at her wildly as if he expected her to debunk that people were able to see his crush but she just avoided his gaze. “Ayana…?” His voice was quiet and dangerous.
“I’m sorry!” She squeaked, ginger hair coming to fall around her yet again.
Virgil groaned, his head falling into his hands. “Everyone knows… don’t they?”
Ayana made a noise that confirmed his theory and Virgil just about died then and there. There was a hand on his shoulder that had Virgil raising his head once more, just to be greeted by his teacher’s face. Virgil pouted, waiting for another bought of ridicule.
“Virgil, you have nothing to worry about.” His teacher said, hand falling back down to rest on the ground where they’d squatted to reach his eye level, “I shouldn’t really say anything about this because it’s none of my business, but-” Virgil had to bite his tongue as he wanted to fire a sarcastic retort right back at his teacher, who simply continued, “I can assure you that Mr Ashworth is showing just as much interest in you.”
This was the first time someone had outright told him that Patton seemed to share the same feelings, and suddenly Virgil felt different. He still wasn’t entirely convinced, but he was sure that was the pessimist in him, he was oddly feeling more confident in his own personal observations.
“Well, it’s really time to head home now, you two. Don’t want you getting locked in here with us.” Their teacher stood, straining as they put effort into getting up off the ground.
The two students gathered their things, thanked their teacher and walked out of the school. Virgil was silently thinking over everything that had happened recently, while Ayana kept glancing at him. Virgil kept noticing her out of the corner of his eyes, but he didn’t want to pressure her into talking.
“Virgil…? Are you okay?”
Ayana’s soft voice surprised him, even though he was waiting for her to speak, “Huh? What? Oh, oh yeah, I’m… fine. Totally fine.”
Ayana slowed down, causing Virgil to stop a little way down the path that lead out to the car park at the front of the school, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about everyone else… I didn’t want to scare you…”
Virgil opened his mouth to reassure his friend, but she stopped him quickly, “Please don’t interrupt! I don’t think I’ll be able to say this again if you do…” Virgil nodded and stayed silent.
“I could see it from the first time you brought Patton over. You seemed so much happier, so much more relaxed… and it was clear it was Patton. And he seemed extremely happy to be with you too. You’re both sweet with each other, both understand each other so well and, the teacher’s right, you two both obviously like each other. That was why I asked about the song when I heard it… I knew before you even told me…” Ayana’s eyes were trained on the ground as she rattled off her speech. She looked visibly upset, “I’m really sorry, Virgil…”
Virgil understood her up until her final apology, “What are you sorry for?”
Ayana shrugged, “For not telling you sooner…” Her eyes flicked up to him as he snorted at her confession.
“Ayana…” Virgil’s arm came to rest around her, giving her a gentle one-armed hug, “You don’t need to be sorry about that. You didn’t wanna stress me out or anything, I understand that. You’re good, we’re good. If I was upset, do you think I’d do this?” He ruffled her hair wildly, causing her to squeak and wriggle away from him with a laugh.
She couldn’t help but smile at him, “No… I guess not…”
“Exactly. Now, get out of here. Your parents will start coming for you again.”
Ayana suddenly tensed again before she began running towards the gate. She turned and waved at Virgil as she left, which Virgil returned. He knew she wanted to stop her eccentric parents from embarrassing her yet again, but he still couldn’t help but laugh. He headed home, his heart feeling a little lighter and his head swimming with information.
Everything was almost ready. He just had to figure out when to do it.
Last Chapter —– Next Chapter
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ranjxtul · 5 years
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The Sky Bends Before it Breaks || Katherine Howard
tw for brief sexual abuse mentions and i’d totally add a read more option if i knew how, so i apologize for the long scroll
The sky bends before it falls. That phrase rang through Katherine’s head as she lay awake, it was from some song or poem she’d heard, but she couldn’t place it. That didn’t matter to her though, only those six words rang through her mind, devoid of any real meaning by now. Normally Katherine, or really any one of the queens would have thought about those words with reverence, especially Parr. Parr loved words and their meanings and connotations. She loved prose, stanzas, lines, and phrases that conveyed such emotion that. She loved words that signified a certain level of sorrow. Katherine always thought words were how she coped. The others, more or less cared about such intricacies, but not a one of them could deny the power of words.
Katherine had been executed because of the words in a law. She’d also been executed as a child, an eighteen year old child, who had men force themselves upon her from age thirteen until her death. She remembered her execution in vivid detail; everything from being dragged up onto the platform to the tears streaming down her face as the sharp metal blade connected with her neck piercing flesh and bone. Much to her satisfaction, there’d only been a minute amount of pain. She now knew that was because her spinal cord had been severed cutting off any nerve impulses, and therefore pain.
The pink haired girl had dreamt about her execution that night, and she awoke clutching her neck, a burning phantom pain spreading from the back to the front. Her eyes blurred with tears and her chest constricted. Try as she might, no oxygen found its way into her lungs and the dark of the night did not disappear. Frantically, her hands searched for a perforation of her skin, or something that would warrant the stinging on the back of her neck. Wide eyed and fighting to escape the immense terror ripping through her soul, Katherine Howard jerked up in bed hunching over her knees. Black spots clouded her vision, and subconsciously her hands tightened around her throat trying to stop the pain.
The ax had been right there piercing the soft flesh at the nape of her neck. She was still there. Every detail of that day flashed in her mind’s eye as panicked, reliving everything for not the first, but the second time that night. Somewhere in the back of her mind, where a semblance of cohesive thought still existed: she wondered if this would ever end. Finally as the ax went down, Katherine squeezed her eyes shut again.
Blackness, nothing but blackness remained painted behind her eyelids. Her lungs at once let go of the air they’d been holding in and a strangled gasp escaped the girl’s mouth. She covered her mouth with one hand so as to not wake up any of the other queens. The phantom pain in her neck slowly began to subside and through some involuntary action, she began to heave quick erratic breaths in and out of her air deprived body. The swirling panic and overwhelming sensation still engulfed her senses.
Just as blood coursed through her veins, the pain and fear brought about by her execution washed over every inch of her body. At least now Katherine was somewhat aware. She tried to remember anything Jane told her that could help her cope with things like this. She wished Jane were there, or that she could go get her, but she woke her up enough.
The perceptive blonde had been the first to notice Katherine’s weariness and anxiety. A previous lifetime filled with betrayal and abuse didn’t look favorably upon a new one. Of course the queens all had taken a considerable amount of time to warm up to each other, and the show helped them to do so, but Katherine found herself unspeakably uncertain even now sometimes when she adored every woman she lived with. Ever motherly, Jane noticed nearly right off the bat.
The first time Katherine had experienced a panic attack around Jane, she was ashamed. Vulnerability didn’t come easily at first. Thankfully, Jane had seen to it not to push and just be there as needed. Soon after, she’d asked Katherine about it and taught her a few ways to breathe and pull through these, and helped her breathe when she was there. Parr helped too, sometimes Anna. Now, when she was alone, she really needed their help but couldn’t get it because she felt paralyzed, and she couldn’t bring that knowledge to the forefront of her consciousness.
She did all she could in that moment, which was to let the terror of everything run its course. Katherine fought to keep air flowing in and out of her lungs as thoughts of Henry and her execution swirled. He hadn’t bothered to show up. He hadn’t even bothered to see her die after he so fervently wished it.
The heads of Culpeper and Dereham, two of the men who abused her, on spikes seemed to come alive at her execution, that day, and in reminsencense. She was a child. She made a show on the scaffolding like they all wanted, and thanked Henry for being gracious. She thanked him; she thanked him for her death.
With that thought, Katherine heaved out a deep breath which changed into a gut wrenching sob halfway through. None of it left her, and none of it ever would. She was grateful to be able to tell her story and correct history in the show. People needed to know that his story in the books wasn’t his wives’ stories. Each night however, she was reminded of every despicable man in her life by the lyrics of her song. Maybe it would get easier to remember these things, but as Katherine sat, shaking with sobs on her bed at four in the morning, she didn’t believe that.
When the tears dried themselves, she lay back against the pillows, only then noticing her hair, damp with sweat. Sleeping again would be futile, no matter how much exhaustion nagged at her mind, She could read maybe, Parr had lent her a few titles. In the dark, she glanced toward the desk near her bed, debating in her mind. Ultimately, exhaustion won out and she rolled over.
The numbers of the clock on the bedside table read 5:10. The sun would be coming up soon. Katherine could watch the sunrise perhaps. Despite all of its romantic and beautiful connotations, she’d never actually watched a sunrise. Mindless musings passed through the girls mind until one phrase stuck out. The sky bends before it breaks.
She repeated the sentence in her head several times wondering where it’d come from. Maybe one of Parr’s poems. Regardless, the sentence had left an impression in her mind. If it came from poetry, then it probably had some deeper meaning. Katherine assumed it meant a state of mind or something like that; she’d never bothered to ask. Regardless, as she watched the black begin to fade into greys, that phrase remained in her mind.
Much to her surprise, Katherine’s eyes started to droop closed. She wanted to fight sleep, but the more she tried to, the more it seemed inevitable. With little successful resistance, the girl found herself falling back into a state of unconscious.
Upon waking up next, it was sun flooding in the window that roused her instead of a night terror. She groaned under breath as she rolled over to look at the clock: 9:22. Katherine sat up and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand before pulling the covers off of her legs and swinging them over the bed to get up.
Katherine passed the mirror propped up on her dresser with little notice until a flash of red caught her eye. Stopping dead in her tracks, her mind began to spin. She stepped backward until she could see the in mirror again.
Angry red scratches sat scattered around her neck. Katherine frowned, the hazy memories of her night terror crystalized as she stared at the vicious red. A rush of tears threatened to fall as anxiety from the night and now the prospect of the other queens seeing the aftermath rushed through her veins. She shook her head trying to shake away the creeping anxiety. She’d be okay. If she looked upset when she walked into the kitchen then the others would take more notice, she reasoned.
Sucking in a wavering deep breath, Katherine adjusted her long black and pink locks so they fell in front of her shoulders, their width helping to obscure some of the red. Before she could ruminate on the situation and think herself further into a corner, Katherine exited her room.
By the looks of the rest of the rooms on the hallway, everyone was downstairs. Jane had probably made them all breakfast. The smell of cinnamon wafting up from the kitchen confirmed this as Katherine made her way downstairs. When she entered the kitchen the first sight that greeted her was Anne and Anna arguing about some tweet they saw with Aragon sitting in the middle of the two eating, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.
Parr sat at the barstool with one leg tucked underneath herself and a large mug of coffee sitting in front of her. Jane sat near her on a different barstool and looked up when Katherine came into the kitchen, “Morning love,” she greeted, “I left some in the microwave for you. It should still be hot.”
Katherine ducked her head, “Thanks.” She retrieved the thankfully still warm plate of french toast from the microwave and took a seat across from Anne squared and Aragon.
“No problem,” Jane shook her head with a smile.
Anna took a moment to pause her discussion with Boleyn to greet her girlfriend, “Morning,” she grinned leaning over to give Katherine a quick kiss on the cheek. Despite her best efforts not to, a pink blush crept up to her ears.
“Morning,” she mumbled back a grin of her own spreading across her face before she dug into the french toast on her plate. With that, Anna resumed talking to Boleyn over Aragon. Katherine nearly forgot feeling any anxiety as the normalcy of the situation settled in. Jane and Parr having a quiet conversation over at the barstools.
She ate quietly until she realized she’d never gotten anything to drink, “Hey, do we have any coffee left or do I have to make some?” She asked Parr who was the only to have a coffee mug out at that moment.
Parr looked up from her conversation, “Uh, yeah, I think so. I had to make a fresh pot for this one,” she said nodding toward her mug.
“Thanks,” Katherine nodded standing up from her seat and going to pour a mug of coffee, which she thankfully didn’t have to make. In the process of reaching up to get a mug, some of the hair she’d used to obscure the scratches on her neck fell out of place. As soon as she felt her hair falling over her back, she immediately put it back over her shoulder. Pouring her coffee, she glanced at Jane and Parr who were still talking and Anne and Anne who were still preoccupied. Aragon had her phone out, seemingly reading something, probably a bible app. Anne had showed her that once when she’d forgotten to bring her bible back from church one week and ever since then she’d taken to using the app.
Katherine sat back down with her coffee to finish eating only for Anna to be tapping her shoulder, “Hey, look at this. We found Luther characters as vines.” Katherine glanced over with a grin. Luther was the television show that the large majority of the queens discovered and loyally watched now. Only Katherine and Aragon didn’t watch it, but Katherine had seen enough snippets to be relatively familiar with it.
Katherine let out an earnest laugh with Anna when the video finished, “That was funny!”
“Yeah, and there’s more. We’ve been sending them to each other,” she explained nodding to Anne who nodded in confirmation.
“Send me the ones you think I’d understand, I liked that one.”
Anna grinned, “Yeah, will do, we--”
Jane cut her off, “I don’t mean to interrupt dears, but we have a matinee, and Kat isn’t ready,” she said with a sympathetic shrug.
Katherine glanced at the clock, “Oh, yeah, we don’t wanna be late. We can talk more on the way there,” Katherine promised Anna kissing her on the cheek before heading off to get ready.
Once she was gone, Aragon looked up, “Am I the only one that noticed her neck?” Almost immediately three pairs of eyes landed on Cleves, who held her hands up in defense.
“I swear I’m not responsible, besides I didn’t notice,” she protested. Jane raised an eyebrow in question. She saw Katherine as her daughter, so Aragon’s question set off alarms when Cleves claimed she hadn’t left any hickeys. Jane could handle the idea of Katherine ending up with a few marks from Anna as that was perfectly safe and done out of love.
Boleyn spoke up next, “Okay, I didn’t see either.” Parr shook her head in agreement and paused a second before she nodded toward Aragon cueing her to explain.
“When she went and got the coffee mug, her hair fell back and I couldn’t see too many details, but streaks of her neck were red and inflamed. They looked like scratches.”
Parr frowned, “Could it have been one of your dogs Anna?”
The German shook her head, “No, they were all up last night… should we ask her about it?”
Jane shook her head, “Not right now, and not all of us at once. She’d get overwhelmed by all of the questions. When we get to theatre Parr and I could talk to her? Since we share the dressing room with her?” The blonde suggested with shrug. Collectively, the other four in the kitchen agreed this was a solid plan. Boleyn opened her mouth to say something, but quickly shut it as Katherine made her way back into the kitchen. She wore casual clothing that consisted of leggings and a sweater, nothing out of the ordinary but her hair still lay over her shoulders.
“Are we ready to go?” the girl asked shifting her weight from one foot to the other. It had dawned on her while she was getting ready for the day she’d have to have her neck exposed to get ready for the show. She had her choker as part of her costume though. Ideally, that would cover the scratches, but at the thought of something wrapped tightly around her neck, the queen was filled with trepidation.
“Yeah, love. Let me get my bag.” Jane nodded standing up from her spot to get her purse from the living room. Aragon followed in suit to grab the small bag she carried and Parr reached for her wallet while Cleves and Boleyn joined her waiting at the door.
Cleves could sense anxiety emitting from the girl beside her. The rigid posture and the tight grip on her phone were external indicators of the feelings Katherine was fighting so hard to keep down. Anna wrapped an arm around Katherine loosely, “You look adorable in that sweater,” she complimented hoping to bring a genuine smile to the girl’s face.
Katherine nearly flinched away at the gentle contact, but as her peripheral confirmed that it was indeed Anna, she forced herself to stay relaxed. “Thanks,” she said smiling a brief smile in response to the compliment. That may not have been the response Anne was searching for, but at least it was something.
Katherine’s mind began to wander in the short lapse of silence. She barely heard Jane say they were ready to go, and on autopilot her legs moved toward the door. On the short walk to the theatre Katherine made no attempt to engage in conversation, which was in hindsight a telling move. Everyone noticed when the normally energetic Katherine Howard made no attempt to engage in conversation.
She was too busy arguing with herself about wearing the choker amidst seeing Dereham, Mannox, and Culpeper’s faces on the men they passed on the street. Logically, she could sort out everything, but the further and longer she thought, the more logic strayed from her consciousness.
Upon arriving at the theatre, the six parted ways to get ready for the show. Katherine gave Parr who held the dressing room door open for her a nod, “Thanks.”
Parr shook her head, “No problem kid.”
Katherine sat down at her station and stared into the mirror appraisingly. Some of the red was beginning to peak out, and Katherine wanted to grab hair and pull it over further to cover it, but that would make everything more noticable. Instead, she focused on her makeup.
Rather than calming her, the mundane motions of putting on makeup agitated her further. With nothing else to focus on, and no want to join in on Parr and Jane’s conversation, she was left alone to her thoughts of her execution and her dream. She’d been doing so well with night terrors, waking up less, and being able to handle them alone, but the previous night had ruined her streak. That frustrated her. Parr and Jane probably got sick of being woken up by them and it had been about a week and half since she’d had to get any either of them or go sleep with Anna.
“Kat,” Jane’s gentle voice drew her out of her haze, “you’re starting to shake. What’s wrong?” She hesitated before adding, “Does it have something to do with your neck?” By then, Jane and Parr had managed to get a better look at the red scratches lining Katherine’s throat. Both of them suspected the same: a night terror. Neither wanted to say it though, getting Katherine to admit it would make her feel more in control.
The girl froze and against her will nearly, a hand flew up to touch the side of her own neck as if to protect the two from viewing the damage. She recoiled at her own touch, feeling the phantom blade grazing her skin as her hand did. Her breaths began to speed up and she started to fidget with the ends of her pink hair with shaking hands. “I- Yes?” her admission came out meeker than she wanted to sound. “I had a bad dream last night of,” she paused biting down on her lip as the combination of consuming anxiety and speaking about everything caused tears to prick in the corners of her eyes.
“Of?” Parr prompted gently before glancing at Jane to watch her reactions. Clearly, whatever she dreamt had upset Katherine to the point of an anxiety attack, borderlining panic attack.
Katherine didn’t know if she wanted to panic or cry, or both. She wanted to tell the two women staring at her with their concerned eyes, but as she opened her mouth to do so, no sound came out and no breath came out. The breath which would have been used to speak remained trapped in her lungs. She fought to pull in another breviloquent breath so as to let out the air trapped in her lungs upon another chance at exhale.
Instead of a smooth breath out, a garbled gasp escaped her mouth along with the mumbled word, “Execution.” Jane and Parr hardly understood what she said, but they didn’t need her to repeat it. The scratches ringing her neck further affirmed that she’d dreamt of execution if they hadn’t fully understood what she said. Now, Katherine’s eyes were unfocused and one hand anxiously clenched and unclenched holding onto the edge of her sweater.
“Kat, can you hear me?” Jane asked moving to kneel in front of Katherine. The girl made no indication she’d heard her at all. “It’s just me, Jane,” she continued, gently placing a hand on her shoulder hoping to ground Katherine in the slightest.
Jane’s touch didn’t register as Jane’s touch, by now it was Henry, and then the guards. She still couldn’t flinch away though, with a buzzing mind and near complete inability to breathe any notion of wanting to move fell flat before she could attempt to act on it.
“Hey, try to focus on me. You aren’t there, you’re here, in the twenty first century. They can’t hurt you.”
No response.
“Katherine, I need you to try and breathe with me,” Jane tried taking on a firmer tone than before hoping to break whatever consumed Katherine’s mind. “Here, if you can hear me, follow my breaths,” Jane said beginning to over exaggerate her breathing so Katherine could imitate it.
A faint sound pierced the wall of panic clouding Katherine’s brain that she identified as Jane’s voice, telling her to breathe. She wanted nothing more than to breathe and get rid of the tightness in her chest and the insidious fog in her brain, but her body didn’t want to cooperate. Still, she tried to focus on Jane and what she was doing.
Finally, Katherine managed to exhale and relieve some of the pressure in her chest, which allowed her to transition from very few breaths to short quick breaths. Jane nodded, “Yeah, that’s it. That’s good. Keep focusing on me. Keep breathing,” Jane urged giving Katherine shoulder the faintest squeeze hoping then maybe it would help ground her.
Jane sat patiently breathing with Katherine and providing words of encouragement until Katherine’s eyes fully unfogged and she was able to take a couple deeper breaths successfully, “There, you did a such a good job. You’re safe here. Good girl.”
Katherine looked at Jane still kneeling beside her and another wave of stronger emotion hit her, not panic, but guilt. “I’m sorry,” she whispered beginning to fidget again. Jane took her hands to stop them from fidgeting and indulging anxiety.
“You don’t need to apologize, it’s okay,” she assured the girl. Katherine looked away tears threatening to fall again and Jane’s hands left hers for a split second, only to return shortly. When she looked back, Jane had moved her chair so she was sitting directly across from her instead of kneeling. “It’s okay,” she assured again.
Without warning, Katherine threw her arms around Jane as her tears began to fall freely, searching for any solace. The blonde didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around Katherine tightly. She rubbed one hand up and down her back and Parr who’d watched the whole spectacle with concern, moved to kneel beside them. She put a hand on Katherine’s knee to let her know she was there.
Katherine tightened her grip on Jane the minute she felt Jane embrace her. The tears came from pent up upsetness and guilt. “I’m sorry,” Katherine mumbled again into Jane’s shoulder.
“Hey it’s okay, I promise,” Jane said giving her an extra squeeze. “Can I ask you something?” She felt Katherine nod, “Why didn’t you get in bed with Anna or come find me or Parr?”
Katherine sucked in a shaky breath, “I- I was panicking. That’s when I ended up hurting myself,” she paused referencing her neck, “and I didn’t want to bother you or her, and I didn’t want to sleep with Anna. I’m with her enough already, I don’t want her to think I’m too clingy or something.”
Jane frowned, “We’re never bothered to be there for you, love. And Anna would never think that. She adores you so much.”
Katherine emitted an audible sigh, “I just don’t ever want to be a nuisance, even if currently none of you think I am. I know I’m a lot and I have those dreams a lot, and off days, and I know I’m not the only one, so I just feel bad about it.” Katherine’s assertions came in rapid succession ending with her breaths once again speeding up.
Parr spoke up, “You went through hell in your last life, we understand, and just because we may have problems doesn’t mean you need to minimize yours.”
Jane pulled away just enough to look Katherine in the eyes, “Parr’s right, and any one of us would agree with that.”
“I just had a good streak going. I’d managed to go almost a week and a half without waking anyone up and my nightmares were getting worse then-” Katherine stopped herself debating on whether or not it was worth it to go into more detail on her dream, knowing it could send her on a spiral.
“Then what?” Parr prompted.
“It felt like I could feel the ax last night. Their heads were on spikes, and when I woke up it still felt like someone was trying to… cut my head off,” she forced out taking a breath before continuing, “then on the way here, I kept seeing men and they turned into them. I don’t know why, my dream didn’t even have to really do with them, but for some reason it happened,” Katherine explained beginning to sound defensive.
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Parr said raising a brow.
Jane nodded in agreement, “We trust what you say. Right now worry about calming down and taking care of yourself,” she insisted moving to wipe away some of the stray tears on Katherine’s face. The girl nodded inhaling and counting through it and repeating the process through exhale.
Suddenly, Katherine became alert again, “The show! What time is it? I have to get ready I-”
Jane cut her off, “Kitty, it’s okay. We’re not out of time. Can you do the show?” Jane asked intending to double check with the girl.
She nodded, “I want to, I need to. My only thing is the choker with my costume. I’m not sure I can put something tight around my neck…” She admitted going from keyed up a more timid disposition in the process of her assertion.
“If you want to perform we can loosen the choker, and if it comes down to it, just don’t wear it today,” Parr said standing from her position kneeling and offering Katherine a reassuring smile, which to her delight, was returned in the form of a small smile. Undeniably, anxiety still simmered in Katherine’s eyes, but she seemed better than before.
“Okay,” she nodded.
In the end, Katherine forwent the choker, and the matinee went splendidly. She put on the stage bubbly persona with ease. It made her feel better in a way. She assumed it was because she was distracted. Thankfully, the group didn’t have a night performance because by the time Katherine got off stage she was ready to take a nap or at the very least rest.
“Great show guys!” called Parr walking into the dressing room. Jane and Katherine nodded appreciatively.
“I’m so glad we don’t have a show tonight,” Katherine admitted beginning to change clothes.
Jane nodded, “Me too. It’s been a long week.”
The walk home consisted of comfortable small talk and a very tired Katherine leaning into Cleves as they walked. Jane and Parr made special care to keep Katherine on the inside of the group so no men could stare or make eye contact with her, regardless of intentions.
“Anna, I want to take a nap. Come lay down with me?” Katherine asked looking at her girlfriend with pleading eyes once they entered their home.
The German nodded, “Of course. Couch or one of our rooms?”
“I don’t care, I’m just tired,” Katherine shrugged. Anna nodded and in a moment of spontaneity she picked Katherine up bridal style which caused the girl to let out a small gleeful shriek.
“Your room then, so you’ll be more comfortable,” Cleves decided starting up the stairs to the bedrooms.
Parr watched them go with a small smile before she made her way back into the living room where Boleyn had monopolized one of the couches and Aragon had curled into an armchair. Jane sat on the other sofa where Parr also ended up sitting.
“It seems like this week keeps getting longer,” Anne complained from her spot stretched out across the couch.
Aragon raised a brow, “This week is over, now.”
Anne turned her head to look at the other woman, “I know, but that doesn’t help my exhaustion or swelling ankles,” she proclaimed with a certain note of melodrama, “and I’m also starving,” she added as an afterthought.
“We could order pizza?” Jane suggested, “I don’t have any of what I’d need to cook or I would.”
Parr shrugged, “Pizza’s fine with me. Anyone have any objections?” Boleyn and Aragon shook their heads no. “Okay, I’ll go order it. I’m assuming the usual order?” She received a variety of affirmations before she slipped out of the room.
Aragon watched her go before turning her attention to Jane, “Did you guys talk to Katherine? She seemed less tense on the way home.” Boleyn perked up at the mention of her cousin. She propped herself up on her elbows to listen for Jane’s response.
“Yeah, I think she’s feeling better now.” Anne raised an eyebrow wanting more elaboration. Everyone had formed ideas on what might have been going on, but only Jane and Parr apparently knew. “And? What happened?”
Aragon shot Anne a look, presumably for her brashness. “She dreamt about her death last night, and woke up in a panic. She scratched her own neck raw in that whole process, and she didn’t want to wake anyone of us up.”
Anne frowned and Aragon for once beat Anne to the punch of speaking, “Poor thing.”
“Yeah,” Anne agreed with a nod, “usually doesn’t she wake up you or Parr or get in bed with Cleves?” she asked.
Jane nodded, “Mhm. She said she felt bad about waking us, thought we saw it as a bother, so last night she didn’t ask for any help.” That still irked Jane, the queens cared for each other greatly. They never saw helping each other out as an imposition. Of course she had to understand that Katherine’s anxiety played a large role in helping her form that conclusion, but something bothered her. It wasn’t the conclusion itself, but that she was at a loss for a way to help Katherine understand it wasn’t true.
Parr slid her desk chair back and closed her laptop. The pizza would arrive in about twenty five minutes if the website’s estimator was correct. She headed to exit her room and meet the queens downstairs, but as she passed the half open door to Katherine’s room she couldn’t resist peaking in. The sight that greeted her brought a smile to her face.
Katherine lay on her side curled into Cleves,very obviously wearing one of her hoodies with a blanket draped over her legs. Anna caught Parr’s gaze as she stood there, so Parr made her way in to let Anna know about the dinner plans. “She asleep?” Parr asked nodding her head toward Katherine in bed.
Cleves nodded, “Yeah. She dropped the minute she laid down.”
“Good, she needed to rest.”
“What happened exactly? I guessed she had a nightmare last night and hurt herself in the aftermath because she didn’t let herself go to anyone.” Cleves asked looking fully over at Parr.
“Yeah, basically the dream was of her death, and she tried to hold it in this morning too. She had a panic attack before the show,” Parr explained.
“Oh, that explains why she was so tired,” Anna frowned.
“Anxiety takes a lot out of someone,” Parr shrugged. Anna nodded in agreement looking back down at the sleeping figure curled so tightly up next to her. “Anyway, we ordered pizza for dinner. Jane didn’t feel like making any food. It should be here in about twenty minutes.”
She nodded, “Thanks, Parr. I’ll make sure we’re down there before it gets cold.”
The shorter woman nodded with a small smile, “Yeah, I’ll see you two then.”
Anna watched Parr make her way out of the room and then glanced back at Katherine who happened to stir just slightly so she could reposition her neck. The twenty minutes passed by quickly and soon enough, Anna found herself shaking Katherine awake, “Mm, no,” Katherine mumbled hardly opening her eyes before closing them again.
“Babe, you have to wake up. Parr order pizza and it should be here soon.” The prospect of food caught her attention and Katherine forced her eyes open.
“I”m hungry, but I’m also tired. Can you bring me food up here?” Cleves couldn’t help but to grin at her sleep deprived girlfriend. She was beautiful all the time, but a sleepy Katherine was adorable.
“We need to go eat with them, come on,” Cleves said, gently starting to move untangle herself from Katherine and get out of bed. For a moment more, Katherine lay there and watched Anna before forcing herself to sit up and get out of bed with a huff.
Anna stopped Katherine before she walked out to pull her into a tight hug. Katherine was surprised at the sudden bear hug, but she wasn’t complaining. Anna’s hugs were always warm and full of love, and this one was no different. “Hey, Kitty, I love you, and I’m here for you no matter what,” Anna said over her shoulder.
The declaration made a blush rise on the younger woman’s face. “I love you too,” she replied wrapping her arms around Anna even more tightly. The German stayed in the hug for a moment more before pulling away.
“Let’s go eat.” Katherine nodded in agreement conceding to walk down the stairs and join the other queens. As they walked, Katherine’s mind wandered for what seemed like the thousandth time that day, but for once it wasn’t in a bad way. Despite her insecurities and what anxiety told her, she could feel the love of the other queens in moments like these. She often wondered how this second chance at life had landed her in such a lucky position with these women.
Then, that phrase, the one she’d thought about that morning floated back into her mind. The sky bends before it breaks. That was true it did bend, and breaking was inevitable, but building it again wasn’t.
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Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Slovenia to Eurovision with a dreamy couple
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Oh boi, now here comes another NF I wasn’t interested in. I don’t hate EMA as a thing, it’s just that it’s infamous for not listening to what people want most of the time, often axing their faves (BQL, Raiven, Nika Zorjan, even going as far back as Saša Lendero and Nina Pušlar...). This year it seemed like Raiven finally had what it takes with her post-dubstep-era dubstep tune, “Kaos”. BUT did she go? Oh nope
Instead we got possibly the best thing that ever happened to Slovenia. That thing is this one entry sung by a cute crossover of Lorde and that trombone fetus thing from Courage the Cowardly Dog (well, at least she looks better than him, hence why ‘cute’), Zala Kralj, and she has her 2-year-long partner Gašper Šantl by her side too, to make up the musical part for the couple’s Eurovision 2019 entry for Slovenia, “Sebi”.
Let’s start reviewing this by complimenting its atmosphere. It’s cosmic. It’s pure. It’s pleasant. I feel like I’m floating among the stars... in the same way as if someone is projecting a star backdrop on a wall and I’m just against the projection, dancing silly. I feel like I’m covered in stardust. This is achieved by the composition of the song, which is very melodic, although a bit background-music-like. It incorporates a lot of those softened hi-hats, soaring synth waves and harmonious additional backing vocals (I think I heard those? whatever that was that adds more depth and gorgeousness to the song...). The lyrics are also cute, the poetry here is pretty fascinating, and I love the hints of intimacy and nature. The chorus reminds me that you have to stay true to what you are and who you stand for, and you don’t need to apologize for being different. Something along the lines of this. And Zala sounds like a person that could do a vocal ASMR therapy - and I imagine that as something that gives tingles to my neck everytime I hear it. You just need to strip the melody away and let me listen to more of those silent, soft-spoken, eerie whispers, and usually I feel creeped out and want it to stop, but at the same time it’s seducing and oddly enough I want some more.
This song has its faults though - it’s supposedly the song being repetitive (look at that chorus’ lyrics, just repeating 3 lines during it doesn’t really suffice, especially with the song being composed like THAT), Zala’s vocals being so hauntingly chill they even sound too calming or too monotonous, and this song is a simple electronic track with it just flowing all so well? Like, it’s something you’d find more on an unknown project’s Bandcamp page and that project usually has 1500 views or so on their videos. It’s a soothing ocean, it’s a galaxy, but sometimes the silence overwhelms you too much you just want to fucking scream... or fall asleep and miss the beauty of it all.
So as a whole it’s a stellar ride through galaxies and supernovas: the song. Great production, slight lo-fi vibe (idk how to explain it but everything here feels so... hmm... soft tune and quiet vocals make it to be something of the more indie-er side of a lower-cost production I suppose?) and sparks of pure bliss raining down on me whenever I remember or hear it. Truly, truly some indie goodness.
The most interesting part? The guys seem too overwhelmed about their Eurovision experience! Sure, Eurovision doesn’t require a too-laidback approach from the participants, but there always are Eurovision non-enthusiasts (seriously, don’t yell at Eurovision participants on Youtube comments when they fail to recognize a language of a song’s from a previous year! Just because they didn’t hear it and/or forgot the language, doesn’t mean they need to be put at stake), or those who just didn’t expect to win their NFs and then are like “shit um now I need to do something about that Eurovision thing I guess”. Salvador never really watched it before, AWS didn’t really hope to participate in Eurovision at the early stages of their NF, now we don’t really hear much Eurovision news and shit from these two Slovenians... well except of them releasing a shortened version of their song so it could comply to Eurovision’s lenght rules (giving it an apt sub title - “Dare to Dream Version”), declaring that one line of the song’s will be sung in English so that everyone not speaking in Slovenian could understand it better (just like Lea sang the end of “Hvala, ne!” in Portuguese because... well we all understand either of them, do we? lol) and that their staging will be similar to the one they had in EMA, and that their stage clothes won’t be the same but of a similar light color. They do have Eurovision in mind, but not quite as much as some other participants, and that’s perfectly fine. As long as they do their job right, that matters.
Approval factor: I may let you in on a little secret here - this is, in fact, my absolute favourite Slovenian entry this decade, if not overall. I have a hard time approving Slovenian entries because they end up lacking something at the end. This one... kinda fits in well with me, so Zala and Gašper did enough of THAT to warrant a big fat thumbs up for me.
Follow-up factor: Wasn't a big fan of Lea's song, BUT I can confirm that she started something good for Slovenia in Eurovision, especially after qualifying. And the couple certainly continued it, so it moves on well! ^^
Qualification factor: Now that's an interesting question... I might be wrong but a part of me fears for them to become the fan favourite duo/couple with a really pretty song that doesn’t qualify, like it already happened to Norma John and ZiBBZ before. They even have been drawn to semifinal 1, ffs. But maybe there’s still a spark of hope somewhere for the two, and I’d be inclined to believe that there is. I don’t wanna see sLOVEnia flop on the year I like their song, ffs. So I’m seeing a borderline result for thee, you the nation of usually fairly-underrated songs. Maybe this cosmic sea beauty will be in them finals.
NATIONAL FINAL BONUS
So, EMA 2019, eh? I guess that was a thing that happened. I at least admire the fact that they used dancing robots for their “not-so-postcards-but-postcards” that played before each performance (I mean, you’d get camera shots of the stage being set up for the act to perform next with their info graphic in the NF’s LED background and next to it there was a re-creation of The Creation of Adam with the other hand being one of a robot’s <3, then cut to EMA’s visual design of the year and the dancing robot person, another shot to the performing act, and then lights out). They had a good time there. And there was a duet singing Salvador Sobral’s ESC winning song, one of them performed by a person who had to be Salvador for a TV show. Ah, fun. I wasn’t all in up for the she-bang (instead I watched A Dal Semi 2 and Supernoval final on that night), but I got some other goodies that I noticed that people noticed before me, for y’all to reminisce. Here are some moments and some songs that lost to this lovely pair:
• So what’s the deal with Raiven, anyway? She’s on the show for her third time, and has already firmly grasped onto the iconic NF partaker’s status, together with.. well... other NF 3-timers (that are mostly from Sweden). This time she went all her way out to prove y’all that “dubstep’s not dead in 2019!!!1″ with her song, “Cows” “Kaos”, and a rather interesting effect show taking place on her face. I don’t know why but Raiven’s and Aly Ryan’s from Germany stagings remind me of each other, maybe because of them being so interesting? Anyway, like as usually, this multicolored songstress failed to grasp the victory of her country’s national final, and honestly, good for that to happen because in my irrelevant opinion, the dubstep in “Kaos” is ridiculously unnecessary and it doesn’t make the song flow very well. Just rework the chorus to make it more suited to the song and maybe it could have worked, as the last 30 seconds and the verses actually rock! I love me some songs that make me feel like I’m listening to sunset transcribed to actual melodies and sounds.
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• The 2015 entrant couple, Raay and Marjetka, are incredibly restless for some reason, and it’s that because they have co-written quite a few songs over the past few years even since their eventual victory as themselves in 2015. Maybe they’re the Slovenian Stig Rästa, probably as in “we loved the Eurovision green room experience so we always want some more!” kind of way. This year they did 2 songs: an electro-swing inspired number about Fridays and “spending some quality time with one’s girls” for the Slovene JESC debutee Ula Ložar and a radio-pop-esque track for a lady named Kim (not Verson). The one that I gravitated towards more will have its video down below and it is probably obvious a bit now. And if it was my will, I’d’ve replaced Raiven with the below lady in the superfinal because... frankly, yet again, I’ll restate that imo it wasn’t Raiven’s year even without the eventual winners having participated...
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• For a country of whose NF’s I didn’t seem to care about, they indeed had quite a few nice numbers. I already shed my thoughts on 2 of them, now here’s another one. Somehow, most countries out there shied away from having rock songs (well except Hungary because I don’t really see any other NF with more than 3 of those clearly audible rock/metal tracks, maybe has to do with the fact they already sent one last year), and as a result, none of the actually submitted ones won because things didn’t really go well with even the slightest rock-sounding songs last year (except one of them almost got into top 10). So one of the rock gems we happened to lose came from Slovenia. INMATE brought the 00s American alt-rock sound that was popular with uncomfortable teens that acted outrageous with their song “Atma” (which somehow means “soul”??). And man they were banging.
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• There’s not much I want to say about the rest of the NF’s gems that you missed. Well, there was one song about horses that is considerably well-received by the fandom, perhaps because of the slow and relaxing ballad sound that surrounds it (but they don’t know the lyrics enough to start hating it). And a song co-written by last year’s Svenskfloppen winner that, as he was destined to, flopped in Melodifestivalen as well. And a decent club track that was actually one of my other favourites, together with “Atma”. And some 00s teen sitcom theme song performed by a completely-careless-about-their-image-band (they call themselves Lumberjack but they dress nothing like ‘em, I assure you) with chill-surfer-attitude-bearing, long-haired lead singer. They brought in a nice vibe at least with their color-splashing LED images and slightly energetic performance. And like I said about how the lead singer looked... well just look at him and try to not see him as a troublemaker teen archetype from a high school rom com or at least irl that can’t score a date:
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Damn, Manel Navarro really let himself go.
• Lea Sirk, besides performing the ESC winning song from two years ago in a duet with someone, and obviously re-appearing to be a honourable guest after having won EMA last year after like 4-5 tries, also served her part as a jury member. Y’know, one of those people that maybe visibly or not visibly tried to push Raiven to her eventual EMA win after her 3 tries so that she wouldn’t become an annoying NF hogger for years on end. Well that didn’t happen because the televoters went for the Zalšper couple! You gotta love it when the teleaudience picks that song for Eurovision that is performed by those that didn’t specifically submit it because they wanted Eurovision, right? Well apparently, Lea took the loss of Raiven as a small stab to her heart and was heard complaining about the unexpected outcome (simply not being able to believe Raiven lost), out loud, to the viewing audiences at home and in front of computer screens. Yep, THAT happened... And I couldn’t be bothered to find a clip of it anymore, so instead I’ll post some pictures of a visibly shook Lea with her new hairdye on fleek (I guess that was to reflect Raiven’s love for hair dye?):
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noooo why do I have to give a trophy to those whom I did not support to win... well fine I will
With all that out of the way, I just really hope for this lovey-dovey duo all the best possible with having to carry the responsibility of representing a country in a very big European music competition on their shoulders. They aren’t seemingly stressed out themselves from the looks of it (if they were in a Brantsteele’s Hunger Games simulation, they’d be those people who’d pick flowers all the time), but you know what happens when you’re given such a big honour but you let what the honour stands for down, upsetting the others who look up to the honour somehow. Terrible, terrible things. Hope the haters don’t grind these two down if anything happens. Srečno!
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imagineaworlds · 6 years
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Radio -- Steve Harrington
Written By: @fallen-imagine-angel
Request: “Hey could you do a Steve Harrington x reader where they are the only 2 people who don't go to the sinowball and they go to a diner and the radio plays "Can't fight this feeling anymore" and they start dancing and they get close and have the chance to confess their feeling for each other and just some fluff please? Thankss ;)”
Warnings: None.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Word Count: 2,167
Listen To: Can’t Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon
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“(Y/n)! I told you to chaperone the snowball, so why aren’t you? I don’t want to be alone there with all of those...pubescent kids.” Nancy shudders at the mere thought of it. You’re in your living room with her since you happen to be her neighbor and one of her best friends.
“Oh, don’t worry! You’ll have Jonathan. And just think of all the pubescent kids that want to date you but are too young! Plus, I promised Dustin I would help drop him off then get out of his way. He says he doesn’t want me to baby him all night tonight. Practically begged me not to chaperone.” You laugh.
“So what are you doing instead? I heard that Steve was helping Dustin get ready, and you said you’re only helping drop him off...does that mean you’re going on a date with Steve? Honestly, it’s about time. You two have been crushing on each other for too long.” She smirks.
“Haha, very funny. But no. We’re just hanging out. Plus, I told you, Nance, he doesn’t like me like that. We’re just best friends, and that’s the end of it. No matter how much I want it to be more.” You smile wistfully and shake your head.
“Right...just friends. Anyway, I gotta go get ready for the snowball. Have fun on your date!” Nancy sings, walking out of your front door to her house. You scoff and start to get ready for your...hangout with Steve.
Once you’re almost ready, you hear a knock at your door. You go to answer it and standing there is a beaming Dustin with a proud-looking Steve behind him.
“Dustin, you look dashing! Just wait, the girls at the snowball won’t know what hit ‘em! I promise you, you’ll be the star there. And if not, call me. I’ll come in and give them a piece of my mind.” You smile at Dustin as you open the door wider, silently inviting them in.
“Please don’t do that.” Dustin laughs and walks inside with Steve. They sit down on the couch as you finish getting ready.
“So I get nothing? Not even an ‘oh, hi Steve!’ or anything? I’m hurt, (Y/n), honestly.” Steve puts a hand to his chest mockingly.
“Oh, hi Steve!” You smirk, applying your mascara.
“Harsh.” Steve shakes his head but laughs.
“Good one, (Y/n).” Dustin nods approvingly.
“Oh, so now you’re on her side, huh? What happened to me and you, man? We were supposed to be a team.” Steve fakes disappointment.
“What can I say, I’m fairly convincing. Maybe I’ll let you have him back one day.” You give a sweet smile to Steve.
“Are you almost done, (Y/n)? The snowball is about to start.” Dustin asks.
“Patience, my young padawan. Being fashionably late is the best part. It gives a certain...pizazz to your entrance. All eyes will be on you. Trust me on this one.” You tsk, finishing your makeup and standing up.
“Finally.” Steve stands up and the three of you walk to Steve’s car together.
“Shotgun!” Dustin races to the front seat but you quickly catch up to him and sit down first. Dustin frowns but gets into the backseat anyway.
“Seniority trumps calling shotgun.” You throw a smile back at him as Steve gets into the car.
The whole car ride to the school is filled with singing along to the radio, jokes, and life lessons to Dustin. It’s a fairly short drive, but you find the time for all of it anyway.
“Here we are. So, remember, once you get in there…” Steve trails off, waiting for Dustin to finish his thought.
“Pretend like I don’t care.” Dustin nods, and you shake your head.
“You don’t care.” Steve nods, proud.
“I don’t care!” Dustin agrees, psyching himself up.
“There you go, you’re learning, my friend. You’re learning.” Steve smiles.
“Idiots. There’s got to be a balance. Sure, pretend like you don’t overly care, but you have to care a little. That’s what gets a girl hooked. You have to care about her for her to actually like you. But, don’t care too much at first. Leave them wanting more.” You correct them, shaking your head at their idiocy.
Dustin nods and leans forward, turning the rearview mirror to check his hair.
“Hey, c’mon, you look great, okay? You look...you look great!” Steve shakes his head and adjusts the mirror back.
“Dustin, I promise you, you look amazing. None of the girls will be able to keep their eyes off you.” You smile sweetly at him.
“Exactly! Now you’re gonna go in there, looks like a million bucks, and you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.” Steve pats Dustin on the back.
“Like a lion.” Dustin purrs.
“Don’t do that.” You shake your head.
“The ladies will not dig that.” Steve agrees.
“Okay.” Dustin looks embarrassed.
“Now get in there and get you a girlfriend!” You grin at Dustin, winking ever so slightly at him and causing him to blush.
“Good luck, buddy!” Steve fist bumps him as he gets out of the car and heads into the Snowball. You see Nancy through the small window and turn back to look at Steve, who’s grimacing and staring straight ahead. He must’ve seen her, too.
“So, Steve, what are we going to do now? Obviously, you need to get your mind off a few things, and I seem like the perfect person to help you do that. How about we grab a bite to eat and see where that leads?” You ask, smiling over at him. He looks to you and makes a face.
“You worded that...oddly.” He chuckles.
“Oh my god, Steve, do not make something dirty out of that sentence! I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” You huff, rolling your eyes.
“Right...anyway, you want to go to that little diner on the corner a few blocks away from here?” Steve suggests, grinning at you.
“Sure, that sounds good.” You nod. He drives to the diner and the two of you head inside. There’s not another soul in the diner except for the workers.
You and Steve grab the corner booth and start talking. The waiter takes your orders.
“So, had any more nightmares recently?” He asks, taking a sip of his milkshake.
“When I said ‘get your mind off things’ I meant things like that, Steve. Let’s not talk about anything that happened, let’s just…” You trail off, noticing the song that has started on the radio that’s on the wall next to you. Can’t Fight This Feeling by REO Speedwagon.
“Let’s just what?” Steve asks, and you notice the small crinkle in his forehead when he’s confused.
“Let’s dance.” You smile and stand up. You grab Steve’s hand and pull him up with you.
“Dance?” Steve asks as you pull him to a small space with no tables in it.
“Yeah! I mean, we’re the only ones not at the snowball so might as well have our own little snowball right? At the diner on the corner, dancing to one of our favorite songs!” You giggle and place your arms around his neck. He holds his hands on your waist and chuckles.
Oh I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship, has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show
You try not to notice how the two of you start to get closer with every word. You don’t know if he notices or not. You meant for this to be a light-hearted dance time, but it’s turned into something much more serious.
I tell myself that I can't hold out forever
I said there is no reason for my fear
You look down at your feet and purse your lips. You feel Steve’s hand under your chin pull your face up to meet his eyes.
Cause I feel so secure when we're together
You give my life direction
You make everything so clear
“You know, (Y/n), this song describes us pretty well…” Steve mumbles, staring into your eyes. You take a deep breath, almost scared to ask what he means.
And even as I wander
I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window
On a cold, dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might
“What do you mean, Steve?” You breathe out, closer to him now than you ever thought you’d get. Your bodies are almost pressed together.
And I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars, forever
“Listen to the lyrics. What started out as friendship has grown stronger...You give my life direction, make everything so clear…” He repeats some of the lyrics, and you feel his hot breath on your face.
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
And if I have to crawl upon the floor
Come crashing through your door
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore
“Steve...are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You ask, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto your face.
“And what if I am? How would you react?” Steve murmurs, eyes darting down to your lips for a split second before returning to your eyes.
My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you
I've been running round in circles in my mind
And it always seems that I'm following you, girl
Cause you take me to the places
That alone I'd never find
“I’d say we’re on the same page. However, if you’re saying something completely different than what I’m thinking, this might become a little awkward.” You joke, seeing Steve’s eyes light up at your joke. He always loves your jokes.
And even as I wander
I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window
On a cold, dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might
“I want to be with you, (Y/n). We’ve been ignoring us ever since we met all those years ago. I want to try this. Me and you. So what do you say? Will you be my girlfriend?” Steve asks, laying his forehead on yours. You lick your lips hesitantly. You wanted nothing more than to say yes, but what if things didn’t work out? You didn’t want to lose Steve as a boyfriend and a best friend.
“Steve...what about Nancy? I don’t want to just be a rebound, especially if you still love her…” You trail off, looking anywhere but his eyes. He sighs and pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms completely around your waist. You turn to look at him again.
And I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
It's time to bring this ship into the shore
And throw away the oars, forever
Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore
I've forgotten what I started fighting for
And if I have to crawl upon the floor
Come crashing through your door
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore
“I can’t fight this feeling anymore, (Y/n), and I know you can’t either. To be honest, I don’t think I was ever in love with Nancy. It’s always been you, (Y/n). I figured that out when Nancy dumped me. You’ve always been better than her.” Steve tells you. You nod and reach up, pressing your lips firmly to his as the music dies off. He kisses back immediately.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for quite a while.” You admit, pulling back and smiling widely.
“Me too.” Steve smiles and kisses you again.
“As cute as young love is, I’m gonna have to ask you kids to scram. We’re closing.” A grouchy old worker narrows his eyes at you two.
“We haven’t even eaten yet.” You point out.
“Too bad. It’s getting late and I’m not getting paid for overtime today.” The old man grunts and ushers the two of you out. You laugh and get back into the car with Steve.
“I’m glad I can finally call you mine.” Steve kisses the tip of your nose.
“You say that like I’ve said yes to being your girlfriend.” You laugh.
“I’m pretty sure the kiss sealed the deal, so you can’t back out of it now.” He teases. You nod.
“That’s fair.” You grin and kiss him again. After pulling away, you check the time on your watch.
“Wanna go see what Dustin’s up to?” Steve gives you a cheeky smile.
“What, you mean like spy on him?” You cock an eyebrow at him.
“Yup.” He nods.
“You bet I do. Let’s go see how many girls he’s got on his arm.” You giggle and the two of you drive off into the night. Who knows what’s in store for the two of you, but it’s sure to be good.
stranger things family: @babytsunami19 @fucking-random1 @babygirlbev @esoltis280 @kaitlinlexiexx @edmunds-torch @beepbeepanna @janetthegiantt @sardonicxhumor @flewe @madhatterweasley @babygirlgelxx @peggy1999 @blu3-wine @ghoulbf @kingsteve011 @thatravenclaw04
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giftofshewbread · 6 years
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PTSD Versus My Hope of Forever
: By Jonathan Brentner  Published on:November 2, 2018
My expectations of Jesus’ imminent appearing and a joyous eternity with Him are not simply things about which I enjoy writing; they are deeply personal to me. They provide an incentive to keep using my gifts to serve the Lord amidst disappointments, failures, and even fierce opposition.
My hope of forever also keeps my perspective balanced between now and forever by reminding me that eternal realities are so much more valuable than the fleeting things of this life. That, however, was a lesson I learned the hard way!
It took the Lord working through much pain and chaos in my life to change my earthbound outlook on life and through that to put me on the path of healing in my battle with PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder).
I am not an expert on PTSD (far, far from it). I share my experiences so that I might help others who may also be struggling with lingering anxieties and deep wounds from their past.
My Nightmarish Experiences While a Pastor
I am not a veteran of war and I fully realize that survivors of combat experience much more severe PTSD symptoms than I can imagine. My struggles have deepened my empathy for those men and women who bravely served our country facing the nightmarish terrors of war and now suffer the consequences.
My nightmare occurred during my second pastorate. Everything went well for a couple of years, and then everything changed as I encountered harsh criticism regarding my preaching and ministry. Although I tried to improve, it seemed as though, the harder I tried to please my critics, the more mistakes I made and the opposition grew more aggressive.
One of the older women in the church voiced the disapproval of several in the church with these biting words: “You’re ministry is a joke!” She repeated this accusation after countless evening services making sure everyone heard her. Some in the church defended me, but that did not deter her loud outbursts that still ring in my ears.
The opposition at church added financial pressure to my predicament; some stopped giving at the insistence of those who believed I had failed as a pastor. This intensified the pressure I felt to make things happen (never a good motivation to say the least). The harder I tried to bring about the required church growth, the more I failed.
The financial woes at church added considerable stress to an already tense situation at home. My wife had earlier fallen into a deep depression with major mood swings. I tried to encourage her, but my efforts fell far short. I did not understand what was happening or why she had become so angry with me in such a short amount of time.
I felt like a ball in a pinball machine bouncing between angry outbursts at home and hostility at the church. As the clanging of each bounce grew louder, I became increasingly fearful of my future. However, rather than face my anxieties, I buried them deep within me. Somehow I would make everything work and come out on top. That did not happen.
As opposition to my ministry intensified, I resigned from the church and continued working at a factory, a job I had begun over a year earlier as attendance at the church had dwindled.
Although I loved preaching about prophecy, I valued my success as a pastor over my life in eternity. As a result, I barely survived the trauma of being forced to leave the job I dearly loved.
Months after my resignation, my wife admitted to a lengthy romance with my closest friend and my strongest advocate amidst my turmoil as a pastor. He had stopped by many times to encourage me during my turmoil as a pastor, and now he had betrayed me.
This disclosure stunned me as nothing else could have done. I remember long walks crying out to the Lord, nights without sleep but full of tears, and deep, piercing emotional pain I believed would never end. Even at work, I often could not stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks.
I wanted to run far, far away from God, from His people, and from everything life seemed to be. Looking back, I realize it was my unwavering belief in Jesus’ resurrection that kept me from running; I knew I had nowhere else to go to find life.
A Respite from the Grief
As the shock wore off, I returned to school at The University of Iowa the following year to pursue an MBA degree. My emphasis in finance and accounting proved to be a good fit for me.
Through a series of promotions during the next several years, I moved up from a second shift data entry operator to a position as Senior Financial Analyst at the company I had begun working at while in school. I found surprising enjoyment in being a number cruncher; I loved my new career of managing the finances for various government contracts.
I soon forgot about the ugliness of my past as I pursued success in the business world.
My walk with the Lord gradually deepened during this time. I continued to write adult Sunday school curriculum for David C. Cook, something I started during my final year as a pastor (and continue to this day).
During this time of spiritual renewal, however, I remained unaware of the powerful fears that raged below the surface of my consciousness, waiting to ambush me at the worst possible time.
Terrors in the Night
Many years later, I met a woman whom I thought was the answer to my loneliness. She was not. Our marriage got off to a rocky start and never recovered. My wife’s discontentment with me caused a renewal of past anxieties inside me that caused much conflict in our relationship.
My counselor at the time diagnosed my symptoms as PTSD; he said my panic attacks stemmed from unresolved fears from long ago, especially during the tumultuous years of my second pastorate and conflict at home. Remarriage and the problems in our relationship had reopened and aggravated old wounds buried inside me.
It was the perfect storm. I came into the marriage with buried anxieties from my past, and my wife entered with high expectations stemming from deep wounds in her previous marriage. My struggles shattered her trust in me; her angry response to my issues and her frequent verbal abuse inflamed my PTSD symptoms. She wanted what she had with her previous husband, which I could not give her.
She spoke often of her desire to leave me. For more than a year, I resisted her pleas for a separation. Eventually, however, I realized I had no other choice but to go along with her plan that we sell our home and live separate lives.
As the turmoil at home grew, my panic attacks intensified. At times, these assaults sprang up out of nowhere. I remember feeling completely peaceful one night as I fell asleep. Then, at 3 a.m., I woke up overwhelmed in a state of great terror. What was happening to me? How could I feel so fearful apart from any conscious worry or threat?
On this particular occasion, I battled the anxiousness with Scripture and prayer for an hour before I again felt the Lord’s peace in my heart. I also began to recognize the devil’s role in these attacks as he sought to take advantage of my weakness that night.
A Song Restores My Eternal Focus
During this time, I attended a Steve Green concert. As I walked into the auditorium that evening, I knew my life was over. Thoughts of my failures as a pastor and husband plagued me night and day.
I will never forget, however, the way God spoke to me that night at the concert. As Steve Green introduced one of his songs, In Brokenness You Shine, I heard the Lord speak these words into my heart, “Jonathan, this is for you.” After that, it seemed as though the crowded auditorium became strangely vacant and Steve was singing only to me.
The lyrics pierced my soul that evening and ignited the process through which the Lord calmed my fears and healed the deep wounds of my heart. Jesus caused hope to come alive in my heart again just as the words to In Brokenness You Shine said He would do.
My renewed anticipation of a joyous forever seemed more than enough to get me through this life even if my circumstances never improved or even got worse. After the concert, I wrote about my hope of eternity and how that eclipsed my feelings of despair and fears regarding my earthly future.
It was not that any of my beliefs regarding my future hope changed; they hadn’t. However, I learned to give eternal realities more weight than my troubles – something Paul wrote about in Romans 8:18. As I shifted my ultimate hopes to forever, the Lord opened my heart to His healing touch.
It still took time for the Lord to heal the deep wounds of my past that continued to cause the middle of the night attacks. I later read a book written by John Eldredge entitled Wild at Heart. The Lord used the words of this book to give me a strategy for dealing with the devil’s assaults.
Rather than flee from the fears of my past, I stood my ground, asking the Lord for insight into the wounds causing them.
I remember one night in particular when the Lord used a significant panic attack to reveal the nature of my deepest wound: a long-held inner conviction of being unlovable, unworthy of love, and as a result unwanted by others. This wound began during the bullying I experienced in high school and deepened significantly with the betrayal I felt during the time of my second pastorate as everything caved in on me. My attacks were but a symptom of deep wound inside my soul.
This disclosure became a significant turning point as my panic attacks diminished both in frequency and intensity.
A Touch of the Savior’s Love
In the lyrics to In Brokenness You Shine, Steve Green used the phrase “your love surrounds.” He sang of the Lord coming to us in our grief and lovingly staying with us regardless of what others might say or do.
These words came alive for me a few years after the Steve Green concert.
After work one day, I went for a long run listening to songs of praise on my iPad Shuffle. Later, I spent time alone with the Lord in my prayer closet. Because recent events had caused anxieties regarding my future to resurface, I began my time of prayer by submitting my future anew to the Lord.
A few moments later, I asked the Lord this question: “If you were seated right here next to me in this closet, what would you say to me?”
Before I finished the question, I heard his response in my soul: “I love you!” Tears streamed down my face from both joy and amazement.
The touch of my Savior’s love that night vanquished all the remaining effects of PTSD.
My Story
This is my story of how the Lord delivered me from PTSD. It’s not a pretty story; but then again, my life shows how God can use the worst of times for His glory and bring joy out of great sorrow, feelings of hopelessness, and utter failure. The Lord can shine His light on the ugliest of circumstances and make the shattered pieces of a badly broken life shine again. It took time, but He did that for me.
As a young pastor, I could cite 20 reasons why I believed in the pretribulation rapture; but sadly, I placed a greater worth on the success I could achieve than on my hope of eternity. Once the Lord broke my fierce, self-centered pride through failure, suffering, and loss, I learned the importance of valuing my expectation of heaven over earthly success and accomplishments (see 2 Cor. 4:17-18).
The Lord in His great mercy and grace has restored my life in remarkable ways. First, after many more years of loneliness and singleness I married Ruth, who is the kindest and most loving woman I have ever met. I thank the Lord every day for His steadfast love in bringing her into my life. Second, the Lord opened up a writing ministry for me as a blogger and author.
Psalm 30:5 aptly sums up my life: “For his anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for a lifetime. Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning.”
Jonathan Brentner
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Inspired By True Events.
I want to talk about Tori Kelly’s most recent album Inspired By True Events. When this first came out I literally cried because I feel like I’ve never related to a collection of music so hard before. It hits me pretty hard and to this day, I listen to it on repeat. This album really got me through my rough summer and honestly what I’ve been just going through lately. This post is probably going to be extremely long because I’m going in depth for each one. For this one though, I going to be 100% transparent... It’s going to be very hard for me to do so if I’m honest. Don’t get mad at me. 
I provided the links to the lyrics of each song if you wanted to read them. (yeah I’m going to be that extra) enjoyyyy~~
Coffee
This song is about missing someone so intensely that you become jealous of every little thing that is physically closer to that person than you are. 
I envy the cup of coffee that kisses you every morning.
It was only the first song in this album, I was already hooked. Every line in this song is exactly what it feels like to be in a long distance relationship. Everyday you have an aching longing in your heart wishing to just be with that person again... and eventually you just start to get really mad at the smallest things because you can’t do anything about the distance. That jealousy is real. It IS ridiculous and really stupid to the point where you start to think if you’re going crazy... but when you miss someone you love it gets harder and harder to be so far away. You’d expect it to get easier but it never does.
Change Your Mind 
This one is about a forbidden love that you would do anything to keep him even if everyone you love doesn’t approve of him. 
You look at me like the sun And I can see that your mind's made up But daddy, he got a hold on me I swear that he's the one
Jeez, if this ain’t about my life... in my 23 years there’s only one person I think I’ve ever actually fallen in love with and was 100% willing to risk everything for that person. As hard as it is every single day to know that the people I keep closest to my heart are skeptical or disapproving of him, I still stand by my gut in believing that he could be a forever thing. It isn’t easy at all to sit here and see everyone scold me or question me, but for some reason I feel so challenged. I want to prove them wrong. 
Language
Language is about a stubborn and misunderstood love. 
I say, "I miss you," you take it as I'm tryna guilt you Like I'm insecure, oh This quiet game ain't working out for me Leave your pride, I'll leave mine
This song could go both ways: how I can be overly cautious in a relationship because I don’t want to mess anything up or how at time I can be so prideful in a relationship that the other person. I feel like this song is about the battle within myself and how I am in my relationships with other people. I know I can be the way that I am and that I love in a very specific way, but sometimes I get discouraged from pursuing relationships if someone doesn’t quickly understand that. As a result, I start to push people away because I get scared that I would have to teach someone how to love me. 
2 Places
This song is about being lost, worried, and indecisive about life.  
These days I keep finding myself caught in between.
I feel as though lately I’ve been feeling quite apathetic about the immense emotions that my heart is burdened with every single day. I feel a lot, but I constantly choose not to acknowledge them because I’ve been taught that life is easier when you just ignore them. There’s been a lot on my mind that’s been bothering me like my relationships, my career path, school, my purpose in life, my future, etc. and sometimes I’ve just been “going with the flow” in order to get on with my life. It’s honestly frustrating how I feel like I’m in these two places in life. 
Kid I Used to Know 
This song it probably my favorite. It’s about the negativity of getting older and how we can’t get back our lives when we were young. 
And where did the time go? Yeah, I know that I can't ever go back to the world when life was only Playing, dreaming, dancing on my own I keep trying to find that fearless heart that's running wild with Nothing weighing heavy on my soul Looking for the kid I used to know
This one speaks volumes because all my life I was the “baby”, so I always felt young. I still do feel young, but there are times when I realize that I really am getting old and that things aren’t the same anymore. So many things have changed especially within the last few weeks and I know that life isn’t every going to be the same. I think a lot about how when I was little, I was so careless about life and that in my eyes, everything and everyone was “perfect” and there was nothing to worry about. I also look at myself constantly and realized how stressed I am about the future and how much I’ve had to change for other people, especially my family. I miss the carelessness of being a child... and now we can’t get that back. 
Pretty Fades
This song is about embracing and accepting that we will get older physically and wanting an unconditional love when these things happen. 
When I’m older and I wake up with no makeup and my body changed Will you tell me that I’m perfect? I want someone when the pretty fades
Nowadays, I’ve have this fear that people only like me because of my “pretty face.” Sometimes it makes me very insecure about my personality. “Am I actually THAT weird? Do they not like me because I talk funny? Do people avoid me because I’m awkward?” These are just a few things I’ve grown up questioning because of what people tell me. I know I’m pretty because people tell me I’m pretty. It’s gotten easier to come to terms with these things because I have embraced who I am and if people don’t like me, then sucks to suck. But, that fear is always underlying especially whenever someone starts to like me. I’ve experienced too many encounters with boys who start talking to me because I’m “pretty”... seldom do boys that I’ve known ever begin to like me, it’s always the opposite. 
Sorry Would Go a Long Way
This was the song that made me cry because it’s so freaking sad. It’s pretty self explanatory, but this song is about all the hurt you could go through with someone even a simple “sorry” could help. 
I stayed up all night waiting, and you forgot to call And, oh, I feel so lonely, it's like you don't care at all And maybe it's your ego or just your foolish pride It's like I'm not on your mind
I’ll be honest. This song really hit me when I was in Florida this summer. I felt like everyone I loved forgot about me or didn’t care about me. I feel like things really took a turn in a direction where I got left in the dust... like everyone changed in their life and I never got to take that journey of change with them. I honestly felt forgotten and it took a huge toll on my heart making me question the validity of my own feelings and if I am a burden to those around me or not. I found myself blaming myself for things that other people did to me because I felt like it was easier to take the blame. I just wanted to hear that “sorry” from certain people without having to ask them to apologize. I don’t feel like I changed much in that time... but undergoing this, did in fact change me and I honestly feel like I’m still trying to recover from it all. A “sorry” is all I really want.
Actress 
This song is about going through life pretending that you’re someone who’s got everything down, but in reality you’re actually just hiding the fact you’re unhappy about your life. 
Hide my pain, I can never admit That I'm sick of all this 
 But underneath, truly, just wants to be close to anyone
But you gotta fake it 'til you make it 
Another song about my life, aren’t they all. I feel like many people think my life is perfect. I will admit, my life is very blessed and I’ve gotten through thus far fairly easily, but... that doesn’t mean I am the happiest about it all. I’ve always been taught to not reveal how much pain I’m in because I don’t want to appear weak to other people... kinda like the “survival of the fittest”. This is more apparent with my own family. It’s like I could never tell them anything about how I really feel about certain things because it would just complicate things. I must always be happy, content, thankful, satisfied.... whatever. It’s easier to pretend like I’m not slowly dying inside for the sake of the happiness of the people I love. I can’t appear “weak”. 
The Lie
This song is about the lie we start to believe about how money can buy you happiness.
Oh, they told me, the more the better Guess the joke's on me
This is probably not my favorite song in this album, but nevertheless I feel like it speaks of how sometimes I can be so unsatisfied with my life and where I am so I find myself trying to find happiness in things that I don’t need, or just in the wrong places in general. 
Until I Think Of You 
I love this song because it’s one of the only ones in this album about God. It’s about how there’s days when it gets very hard to keep going and find the will to continue.
But they all think I’m doing fine.
I'm lost and all alone Until  I think of you
I am empowered by thing song because it reminds me that I really am not alone in life because I do have God and sometimes I forget. She really captured the depressed state of being that I can get into almost everyday. It really does get hard to go on with life because there’s just so many frustrations that keep me from being my best self. Everyday it’s a battle and many people don’t know that I really am struggling with this kind of stuff... probably because I’m always so “smiley”. God’s really got my back especially when no one else is, and I need to constantly remind myself of that. Shoutout to you Lord. :) 
Your Words 
Before anything, I just have to say that Tori Kelly’s voice in this song is the most angelic thing ever. lol Anways, this song is about losing someone, particularly through death. 
But every part of me misses every part of you And with all the chaos in my world I could really use your words
This summer I lost one of my grandmothers (read my Butterflies post) and being so alone during that time really made me crave the presence of those I love. I’ve lost a lot of people in my life and I honestly fear the time that I’m going to deal with greater loss of family members when I’m older. My heart aches so much for those who’ve lost loved ones because I can understand the pain and loneliness they’re going through. Although it is about death and missing a loved one that’s passed, this song is so hopeful. If you’re reading this, please pray for those who have passed away and for all the souls in purgatory who have no one to pray for them. 
Before the Dawn
This song is cute, it’s about encouraging someone who’s sad, alone, or someone who’s going through a tough time to stay hopeful because life is fully of opposites. 
So keep your head up Keep your head up My love
This song makes me think a lot about my friends. I find myself being very optimistic whenever my friends are sad because although I may not know how they’re really feeling or what their going through, I want to at least support them with my presence. I strive to always be there for my friends and family through even the toughest times... I may not give the best advice at times and I may be scared to be honest with them, but I believe that one of the reasons I was put on this earth was to “heal”. The best way that I’ve found is through my physical support. If I’m honest, this is all I want in return from those people as well. 
Dear Person Reading This, this is probably the soundtrack of my life in more ways than one. If you want to understand my heart, listen to this album and let’s talk about it. I’m sure you relate to some of this too. You’re not alone. 
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Twenty One Pilots - Trench
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Twenty One Pilots - Trench
Release Date: October 5, 2018
Genres: Alternative Hip Hop, Alternative Rock, Reggae, Pop
Reviewing Trench by Twenty One Pilots was definitely a strange experience for me. There are very few bands and artists where my opinion of them changed so drastically. Before Twenty One Pilots blew up, I considered myself a massive fan. Vessel was on repeat for several months and I knew basically every word to every song. Blurryface rolled around in May of 2015, and I wasn’t really a fan, but I eventually forced myself to like it. I saw the duo live in October of 2015 and had an incredible time at the concert. However, as time passed, the band’s tragically annoying fanbase (nicknamed ‘The Skeleton Clique’) wore on me, and my love of Twenty One Pilots came to a screeching halt. It wasn’t until now that I finally returned to their music, and I tried to have an open mindset, although that was difficult at times. I revisited their albums before writing this review, and I found that there were a lot of shining moments, but mostly an abundance of potential. Vessel has many of the bands best songs to date, and Blurryface, although it admittedly had some rough song writing and overblown production, shot the band into the ears of anyone with a radio, whether they liked it or not. I was never a huge fan of the band’s debut, but even that self-titled record had some great songwriting that carried into their other projects. All of these albums eventually led to this one, Trench, and after a strangely silent three years, Twenty One Pilots have come back stronger than they have ever been.
Before I get into the actual review, I want to explain Trench’s narrative as quickly as possible, considering it is a genuine concept album. There is a fictional city named Dema, which is controlled by nine Bishops (Nico and the Niners). A rebel group, known as the Banditos, is working to escape the control of the Bishops, and to ultimately leave the city of Dema. The Banditos wear jumpsuits that are lined with yellow tape, and Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun are both members of the the Banditos. Nico is also Blurryface (from the previous album), which is basically the representation of Tyler’s insecurities. Leaving Dema and escaping the Bishops is essentially an extended metaphor for escaping your insecurities and being able to live how you want to live. There’s even more lore than all of this, and you can easily find a lot of fan theories and Reddit threads that go deeper into it all. If you’re interested in a learning more, but in a more enjoyable and accessible fashion, I would recommend watching the music videos for the lead singles “Jumpsuit” and “Nico and the Niners”. Hopefully that crude explanation of the album’s concept is sufficient because I’m moving on.
The most notable and all-encompassing improvement on this new Twenty One Pilots album is an overall sense of cohesion that can be seen in every aspect of the album. Although it might sound absurd, the album’s overall narrative actually works pretty well with the themes of the album. There are really only four songs that are truly devoted to the album’s narrative, those being “Jumpsuit”, “Nico and the Niners”, “Bandito”, and “Leave the City”. Aside from “Nico and the Niners”, none of these songs really force the narrative down your throat either. The lyrics to these songs are packed with metaphors, and they all happen to fall in line with the narrative arc. And although the rest of the songs don’t make any serious allusions to the story, Tyler Joseph's metaphor-filled songwriting has led to many fan connections and theories that aren’t necessarily far fetched by any means. The narrative holds up, and many of the songs support it well. It’s vague enough to keep much of it open to interpretation, but what is directly stated builds a solid framework for the story to work itself out in.
Keeping up with the theme of cohesion, the songs on Trench have solid structures that don’t jump around too often. The rapping has been dialed down a lot on this project, and though that may upset a lot of die-hard fans, it ultimately lends itself to smoother songs with cleaner structure. That’s not to say there isn’t rapping at all. “Levitate” is the best rapping that Tyler Joseph has ever done on a track, hands down. His flow is nearly flawless, and he honestly stands his ground among a hip hop heavy mainstream in 2018. “Neon Gravestones” is also rap-centric, but in a completely different way. My roommate told me that he thought it sounded like Hamilton (the musical), and I definitely agree. “Neon Gravestones” is actually a very important track, as Tyler expresses his discontent with modern society’s glorification of death and suicide. “Levitate” and “Neon Gravestones” are the two best tracks on the album (in my opinion), but I still think the decision to remove a lot of the rapping on the album was a smart and justified one. Tyler Joseph is able to convey a lot of different emotions through his voice, and that range is evident throughout this project. “Jumpsuit” contains almost childlike vocals from Tyler, which reflects the song’s themes of fear and protection quite well. His falsetto on the chorus of “Morph” is earcandy, and he uses it again on the incredibly peaceful “Bandito”. “Smithereens” and “Legend” both remind me of the older work of the group, and a lot of that can be attributed to Tyler’s signing. And I can’t even explain it, but something about his vocals on “The Hype” are just so addicting to me. The tracklisting here is littered with impressive showings from Tyler Joseph, and he comes across as a impressive singer here more than any other project, rather than just an introspective songwriter who happens to rap over alternative rock production.
In terms of lyrical content, Trench sees the band as much more optimistic and accepting individuals, rather than the emotional wrecks that we’ve seen on previous efforts. That isn’t to say that this album isn’t emotional, it’s just much less “emo” than before. “Legend” sees Tyler addressing the recent death of his grandfather, but his outlook on the situation is beautifully optimistic. “Leave the City”, the album’s closer, ends the albums narrative, but its metaphor shows Tyler accepting his mental health and he seems to have come to terms with living with it. “Smithereens” is similar to Blurryface’s “Tear In My Heart”, but sadly the ode to his wife comes off as cheap and simply unappealing. Tyler Joseph also writes about some new topics too. On “Chlorine”, he sings about the cleansing power of music (it’s not as cheesy as it seems), and on “Pet Cheetah”, he addresses the writer’s block that afflicted him while writing the album. “My Blood” is a simple, radio-friendly take on brotherly love, and its sincerity is tangible and powerful. The song topics across the album are fairly varied, and it keeps the overall effort feeling fresh all the way through.
In terms of the album’s actual musical composition, the album is much more reserved than the bombastic Blurryface. Twenty One Pilots is often seen as a genre-hopping group, which is just as often a detriment as it is something to be happy about. On Trench, they tone things down and iron out a lot of these musical inconsistencies. Sure, there are definitely hints of many different genres here, but the overall package is simply a solid pop record. Josh Dun’s drumming is consistently a highlight in the composition of each song, and the production is created in a way that almost seems to be built around it. “Jumpsuit” opens the album with a pounding bassline that comes in and out at the chorus, but it’s Dun’s drumming that carries the rest of the song and controls the build ups. The chorus of “Chlorine” exists in a open void with only a twinkling production effect and some mellow drumming to uphold it. A lot of the ukulele that made up several of the older Twenty One Pilots songs is now reduced to a supporting role, which honestly works much better. It’s used more consistently, and it supports the production better than it would have led it. The consistency throughout the album unfortunately leads to some stale production however. Much of this is due to tracks being too long with the production unable to hold it up. “Chlorine” drags on way too long for its own good as the final two minutes are completely unnecessary. “Bandito” has a really slow start with choruses that drag on too long, but it’s luckily saved by an explosive finale. “Cut My Lip” is sadly boring all the way through. The lyrics are boring, the production is boring, and everything just feels way too slow. Like the other aspects of the album I’ve looked at, the production is good for the most part, but it isn’t without its problems.
Overall, Twenty One Pilots have delivered a very solid record that is a good listen from front to back. Nothing here is that new, but rather they have built upon a lot of the foundation they have established in their previous albums. Much of the album is an improvement on the past, though some of the changes here don’t quite pan out all the way. Making Trench a concept album works surprisingly well, and it holds the album together in a strong way. The songwriting isn’t as emotionally potent as albums like Vessel, but the songwriting is still strong despite this. As a whole, Trench is definitely worth a listen, especially if you leave behind any previous notions you may have had about the band and its fanbase.
Best Tracks:
* “Jumpsuit”
* “Levitate”
* “Morph”
* “My Blood”
* “Neon Gravestones”
* “Nico and the Niners”
* “Leave the City”
Worst Tracks:
* “Smithereens”
* “Cut My Lip”
Final Score: Solid 7/10
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latestnews2018-blog · 6 years
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Mohammad Assaf on close fans and Eid plans
New Post has been published on https://latestnews2018.com/mohammad-assaf-on-close-fans-and-eid-plans/
Mohammad Assaf on close fans and Eid plans
Saturday afternoon was bright and sunny in Dubai, fit for a happy occasion: Mohammad Assaf was to meet with a few lucky fans for lunch at Jumeirah Emirates Towers.
The 28-year-old Palestinian singer, in collaboration with clothing brand Max Fashion, of which he’s a celebrity ambassador, held a competition to share a traditional Arabic meal with fans. But one could be forgiven for thinking it was just an overlarge family reunion, as the smiling pop star hopped between his admirers for casual conversations.
“I feel like an artist has to be close to the people he loves,” Assaf told Gulf News tabloid!. “He should share with them a lot of things, the good and the bad. This lunch has an air of familiarity to it. Everyone here is [like a family].”
Competition winner Mai Ali, who is half-Egyptian and half-Palestinian, has been following Assaf since he won Arab Idol in 2013, and says she was pleased to find out he is just as modest in person.
“I love him and my daughter loves him. I usually don’t watch singing competitions, but Assaf was special, so we followed him,” the 36-year-old said.
“He’s down-to-earth and hasn’t changed since his beginnings. Even the way he interacts with children; my daughter asked him to speak to her friend on the phone, who loves him, too.”
Ali added: “His voice is beautiful. On stage, it sounds different than on cassette. He’s one of the rare artists who has that.”
Read what Assaf had to say about his fans, Eid plans, and the upcoming release of his Iraqi-style single.
A long time ago when we spoke, you said that you get overwhelmed sometimes, if hundreds of fans ask for a photo in a day. Do you still get nervous when you know you’re going to meet a lot of people?
It does still happen sometimes. It depends on your mental state, whether you’re prepared or not. When it comes to concerts, especially, I have a bit of fear, always. That’s natural.
Before you go on stage?
Of course.
Why is that?
Because it’s not easy for an artist to always maintain himself, his art, his way of singing, his way of interacting with fans at a show. You don’t know what the circumstances are going to be and how you’re going to be feeling. On the subject of mental state, it’s not possible for someone to always be perfect in his personal life. I get really affected, sometimes. But I’m the kind of person, no matter how nervous I am beforehand, after the first song on stage, I’m good. It’s easy for me, then. Everything flows.
How do you take care of yourself and your mental well-being?
I’m the type of person, I don’t like to talk about myself, but I have a quiet personality. I don’t like a lot of ruckus. I try, always, to stay far away from problems, even in the entertainment industry. I don’t like to create problems. Even though I’m faced with a lot of issues, I’m put under pressure, but maybe I got used to it. When I first came up, things that were said in the media, rumours, they got to me. Now, it doesn’t bother me anymore. My private life is so important to me, away from the fame and the fans, who I love and who love me. There’s a corner that’s just for me. I don’t like anyone else to enter it.
When fans come up to talk to you, what’s the thing they say the most?
My relationship with people, my fans, baffles me. I feel as though I know them and they know me. I’m a really social person, I just get right into a conversation. We talk about art, we talk about personal stuff, we talk about Palestine — especially the Palestinian fans, they’re always surprised by how much I know about Palestine. If they bring up a family in Palestine, I can tell them where they live. In the Palestinian society, our social ties are really strong — we know each other really well, we know about all kinds of areas and families. We’re a simple community. So I feel like that’s what we talk about most, more than my art and what I’m doing next.
Do your fans thank you?
A lot. I hate talking about myself, but people always tell me, you’re so close to us. We don’t feel like you have that megalomania [smiles]. I don’t know how to talk about myself, you have to ask them!
Does it feel weird sitting here today for lunch, and hearing your own music play?
[Laughs] For sure. It’s something that’s funny, and maybe people will find this weird, but it’s so rare for me to listen to myself. I listen to other people, but the only time I really listen to my own music is before I choose it for my album. I’m prepared to listen to a song a hundred times. I keep repeating it in the car, until I can make sure whether or not I want to choose this song or another. And after a song or an album releases, I’m constantly on social media trying to read people’s comments, so I can know what their reaction is — what did I do right, what did I do wrong. This is so important to me. I think a lot. I’m a big thinker.
What’s next for you, music-wise?
I have an Iraqi song. I’m going to turn it into a lyric video instead of a music video. I’ve chosen to release it after Eid, because during Eid, a lot of people are going to release new music. I want to be a little different.
And what are you listening to right now, in terms of other artists?
To be honest, everything that the girls and guys of my generation are listening to, I’m listening to, too. But maybe, I lean more towards classical, romantic music as a fan. But as a singer, I find that more pop music works for me.
Eid Al Adha is upon us. What are your plans?
First of all, best wishes for the year ahead. I’m heading to Palestine to spend Eid with my family, nothing more. To me, that’s the most important thing. Always.
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wknc881 · 6 years
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Black & Mild: Black Wayne - pat junior
Pat Junior. What can i say about a man who has come to be a staple in the NC Hip-Hop Community… For those of you who don't know Pat Junior’s work, he is a writer, rapper, and producer from Brooklyn, NY. Pat moved down to Raleigh and began to make a name for himself in the Music community here. In 2016, I was introduced to his music. Pat has been putting out work ever since and his growth as an artist and musician is evident in his sound. His newest album “Black & Mild: Black Wayne” is no different. He continues to grow the themes of getting laid off and wanting to support his dreams as well as his wife and family in both an emotional sense and financially. Leading up to this project Pat had been laid off four times in the past seven years. He speaks on this often in his lyrics and you can tell that this has had a huge impact on his outlook on life and music. This is where Black Wayne starts.
All, now
The project opens with pat speaking on themes he has rapped about in the past. He's been laid off again and is starting to realize that he wants more than he has. He wants to be more for his wife more than anything but i think this can extend out to his friends and even to himself. The first track especially feels like he has been broken for the last time but for the first time, he says he needs a pivot. Pat makes it known that he is moving away from working a regular job because the pain of losing his job so frequently showed him that music should be his path in life.
In his music this point in time was visible. His production became more polished. His rhymes and comparisons became smoother and intelligent, yet still digestible. You could even hear a shift in his voice. Passion that was always present in his work became magnified and clear.
The transition is very natural from “All, now” into “to The Dawn.” His production experience shines on this track. The beat is smooth but still has the edge as he raps lines about pushing forward through his pain and past experiences. The listener can hear that he wants to push his own boundaries because he wants to be the best he can be and then some. He has made it so far already that he has to keep pushing forward. This really reminds me his song “always forward ft. thedeeepend” that was released on his first Black & Mild project (Highly recommend the Sinopsis remix of this track). While these two songs have similar themes in my opinion, you can hear the new found edge in Pat’s voice on “to The Dawn” and in the second verse that edge creates a huge musical impact. He speaks on other more mediocre rappers getting the same acknowledgement from crowds even though Pat is pushing the boundaries with his lyrics. This transitions into the chorus and then into the smooth track “an ode to a jumpoff.”
an ode to a jumpoff.
This is a song that had me grooving from the time I heard the first beats. Timmy V kills it with the production using moody synths that have a melancholy decay to them that really complements Pat’s voice and cadence. The lyrics are relatable and when combined with the production, it creates one of my favorite Pat Junior tracks of all time. Pat shows off his lyrical skill on “an ode to a jumpoff.””You always ruining the best times/ Keep me company but kill mines/Always blocking out the sunshine/You go again and come again with each climb” is the hook and it really shows that even though this person (or thing) comes up at the worst time and he feels like he could jump, he doesn't because he has to keep pushing forward.
smoke break // two
This instrumental interlude really shows off some of Pat’s production skill and gave me a minute to process everything i had heard up to now in this album. Pat speaks on some dark topics and the track leading up to this interlude is pretty heavy once you break his metaphore. This track also does a good job at changing the pace a little and transitioning into the second part of the project.
let it… (breathe)
This track is the deepest on the project. Pat talks about letting go of problems and talking to people despite your problems. Pat is saying that by putting conflict out in the open and being real with someone you can maintain relationships and not just keep things pent up inside. While i love the message, this has to be one of my least favorite songs from Pat. It feels like it drags on with the chorus at the end. This may have been an effect he was going for but it feels like a marathon. It keeps listeners in the same tone that is provided by “smoke break // two” and then transitions until the hardest tracks on the project.
the ride ft. Jodi
This was the single from this project and rightfully so. “The ride” is a good summary of the whole project. Pat hits a lot of the same themes as he has throughout the project and communicates his need to leave his mark. He knows that people are going to hate but he just wants to do this for himself and his wife. The production on this track complements the contemplative nature of his vocals. He is deep in thought and that translates well to the listener.
aye, aye. Ft. Swade
This is classic pat junior flow on a refined lyrical plane. He knows his mission in the game now and is going to do whatever it takes. It's almost like he was given orders by a higher power and he will do anything it takes to fulfill them. His flow in the first verse is insane and the lyrics match.
“Really been guarding my space, up/Light saber knight with the ace, tucked/Biting every bullet til I taste, bucks/Chucking dead weight to the waste, yuck” Pat is about to do anything it takes to make it in the game and the way he portrays this in both black and mild projects is brilliant. Swade also bodies the second verse and plays on the themes of the album. He talks about just wanting to provide for his mom and that he wants to “be a king but [he] can’t be rodney” in a reference to the late rodney king. He continues to speak he preaches peace but that would change whenever someone tried him. The pairing on this track creates an insanely cohesive song and i hope that we can see more from the pair in the future. This leads us into my favorite track and the first I heard from Pat.
s.o.t.b.
Stepping out the batcave. Pat makes alot of refrences to Batman and gotham city in all his work and it works for him. This track has been a hit of his for some time now, but this was the first time it was used as more than just a single. It fits and is a great closer for this project. Pat has pushed passed his fears and is determined more than ever as he steps out of his batcave and enters his personal gotham city. He doesn't know what to expect, but he is ready for anything. The production is also the hardest on the album and the way he uses repeating beats and pitch bending creates an erie vibe and really complements his lyrical style.
black & mild: black wayne is an awesome follow up to the first black & mild project. It shows Pat’s growth as a musician and artist. His writing on the project blew me away compared to his past work even though it was already at such a high level. Everything seemed to come together on this project for Pat. Its deep and shows a vulnerable side to the artist that we have caught glimpses of in the past but has never been fully fleshed out like it is on black wayne. This project has me really excited for the first full length from Pat.
P.S. Check out Smoke Signals by pat junior and Sinopsis. It is the first black & mild project remixed by a great producer and provides a different vibe from the original. Highly recommend.
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