#like. yeah! you’re a part of the spiral now sing that verse!!!

[shining-scion]

Wizard101 musical where the running gag is that musical numbers are just What They Do in the Spiral and the Young Wizard, being from earth, spends the whole production confused and annoyed until they sing their own verse at the end of the musical where they sing a reprise of the opening

[creativeashproductions]

Healed by the Music // Luke Patterson

Summary: After the fallout of reckless behaviour and forced to return back home the reader had rediscovered her love for music. Close with her family once more her band Graveyard Petals receives an offer that could turn around the band’s tarnished reputation. The only issue is not wanting to hurt those close by leaving.

Warnings: Swearing, talk of death, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.3k

A/N: The second and final part to a lovely little series I had grown to love, the first part is Drowning From the Past. I came up with the band name so if you want to use it send an ask and we talk about it. This is set after the first season and Ray can now see them after the whole Golden glow thing.

Part One - Drowning in the Past

Masterlist

In the months you retreated back to Los Feliz the band had grown exponentially bringing in more revenue with merch. The social media followers grew as well with the hope of a new photo posted of you and the band. The most recent teased new music coming.

Speaking of music, it seemed to pour out of your body into two notebooks unknown to both your sister and her band—the band of ghosts that become massive fans of Graveyard Petals when Julie played full-length debut album Dahlia. Luke had even collaborated on a song for your band; his name the first of writing credits.

Now, seven months after the shameful return the band had gotten the offer of a lifetime to open for 5 Seconds of Summer on a world tour. The issue came with talking with Julie, and the guys gave you had shown your father you had healed.

"Hey, what's been up with you lately?" Julie asked, seating herself in the swing right beside you. Her hair pulled away from her youthful face.

Whenever you looked at Julie, you saw Mom with the gorgeous hair and gleeful smile that brightened a room. Even on your mom's death bed, the room flared with that same smile in every picture in albums and on the walls. Sometimes you swore the piano in the studio bath in the warm light brought by the one person that taught you and Julie to play.

"I've been thinking." You simply spoke eyes focused on the park that had been a massive part of your life.

Every year Rose and Ray Molina had brought their three children to the very park the two had met years before. Rose would bring flowers to a specific bench, and every time you asked why she had the same answer.

Little Y/N was a precocious child inquisitive of the world around her held at an arms life by her parents. Skilled at singing and natural affinity for music it worried Rose, in her eldest child she recognized something. The intense passion and talent that a particular guitarist had once displayed on a stage that would have changed everything.

"It a place of absolute joy and acceptance. Four legends came together in front of that very bench."

Rose would never know about the place had Bobby not subconsciously led her there for the first time mere hours after the devastating loss. He had collapsed to his knees, pleading for his best friends, his brothers to return. In broken sobs, he had told Rose that this park, this bench was the first place Sunset Curve played. Band fresh and still unnamed they had gotten confident enough to set up near the bench to start building a following.

Now it was eight years after the first visit with Bobby who started going by Trevor a year after the loss. The fresh-faced boy that had flirted with Rose had changed, and at that time, Rose wasn't sure it was a good or bad thing.

"It was the guys Mom left the flowers for." Julie started following your eyesight to the bench that had a fresh bouquet. A single dahlia in the middle of the flowers for your mother.

"Yeah." You softly spoke, turning to focus on the girl that had healed through music. Seeing how grownup Julie had become hurt your heart. Julie wasn't a child anymore, and you wished she never went through what you did for months.

The two Molina girls sat in comfortable silence with minds thinking the most opposite things possible.

"5 Seconds of Summer is going on tour. We should try and score some tickets when they come to LA." Julie spoke, raising one leg to rest her arm on it. The high waisted light washed jeans with paintings on them.

Your heart clenched at her excitement for a band you both adored for years.

"I know. 5SOS gave Lucy an offer for Graveyard Petals to open for them worldwide. The others are down to join, but if I'm not ready, we won't." You avoided the brown eyes burning your cheek for a second.

Julie's warm hand clasped yours in hers to jog to your car you had bought with your first paycheque. Unable to figure out her state on the possible tour, you quietly drove back home with no sound other than breathing.

"Hey!" Luke beamed as his two favourite girls, came wandering into the studio with pensive expressions and stooped shoulders.

Alex picked up on their moods almost instantly, "Are you okay?"

Your mouth opened before the loud yell of Flynn cut off your opportunity to respond and a slap smack to the back of your head. The sharp cry of pain stumbled from your chapped lips and Flynn's frustration rolling off her form.

"Flynn!" You sharply called rubbing the stinging spot with a glare outmatched by Flynn's fire. The look unlike you had ever seen on the girl with a sharp sense of fashion and unapologetic personality.

"You got asked by 5 Seconds of Summer to tour the world as an opening act!" Flynn elaborated at your confused expression, "Jules texted me. You need to do this! The amount of questions of if GP will return is outrageous! In the last two days, the band's Instagram got five thousand new followers."

The ghostly trio stayed silent as Flynn reprimanded her best friend's older sister with crazy talent. Flynn was your self appointed biggest fan with buying the first album at the store to demanding to wear newly designed merch before the drop.

"I'm enjoying being at home. I'm on good terms with Julie and Carlos, Dad doesn't look like he's gonna drop dead in disappointment when he sees me." You shrugged focusing on the discoloured mark on the ground.

"It's okay to be scared." Alex supplied smiling as Flynn nodded her thanks as the tall drummer stepped in.

After escaping the Hollywood Ghost Club (HGC), a handful of people gained the ability to see them, including Flynn. It was rather refreshing for the girl to finally interact with the guys with Julie being the middle man.

"I'm not-"You cut yourself off at the disbelief on Julie's face with her arms crossed just as your mother had done, "I nearly lost myself in the bottom of a bottle. I fucked up my relationships and tarnished both mine and the band's reputation."

Luke's warm hand came down on your shoulder in the act of support, the touch a new factor to the ghost. Your hand came to rest on his with a smile of gratitude cast to the dead boy.

"You have healthy coping mechanisms to fall back on. You'll have us to visit with the poofing ability. If you stumble, we will be here for you." Reggie informed you with his toothy grin and kind eyes.

The last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, feeling the wound close up, leaving a scar that had blistered and reopened since last year. The cheers enveloped you like their arms as you texted Lucy and the band your decision.

Dublin, Ireland 2021

"Hello, Dublin!" Your voice amplified in the large stadium of fans cheering for your band—the thud of Iris on her drum kit.

James idly stroking the strings on his dark green teal guitar your band had pitched in as a gift to him. On the opposite side of the stage was Sawyer with their custom-made gorgeous marble green and white colour.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself so far! It is our last song before the real act comes out!" You exclaimed to the boisterous crowd.

Just barely in the wing of the stage waited the band that had quickly become older brothers to you. A band that had given you a chance after the madness of your downward spiral.

"This song came out in 2018 and quickly became one of my favourites. It wouldn't be right to sing it without some friends." You continued as the guys walked onto the stage, "Without further adieu, this is Lie to Me by 5 Seconds of Summer!"

Luke Hemmings along with Calum, Ashton, and Michael ran to join your band as Iris started a sick beat. Calum and Michael already joining Sawyer and James in absolute perfect sync leaving Ashton to rock out by Iris. Hemmings, to not confuse him with Luke Patterson, came to stand next to you with a guitar.

[Verse 1: Hemmings]

I saw you looking brand new overnight

And I caught you looking too, but you didn't look twice

You look happy, oh, mmm

You look happy, oh

Hemmings angled his body to face you but not cut off the fans behind him, creating the vivid story you had done each rehearsal. The blue clashing your own eye colour holding your personalized sparkly emerald green mic.

[Pre Chorus: Hemmings & Calum]

Flashing back to New York City

Change your flight so you stay with me

Remember thinking that I got this right

Only adding backing vocals as Hemmings retreated to jam out with Calum leaving you to jump around the stage. Landing next to Sawyer they beamed with the loud stadium heard even through the in-ear monitors.

[Chorus: Hemmings & Calum]

And now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While I'm cleaning up your mess

I know he's taking off your dress

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Raising the mic to your lips, you came into your cue returning to the middle of the stage with Hemmings.

"Give it up for Y/N!" Ashton yelled into Iris' personal microphone.

[Verse 2: You]

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me (Ah)

I know that you've been holding on to someone else

And now I can't sleep (Ah)

I ain't happy, oh

I ain't too happy, oh

[Pre Chorus: You]

Flashing back to New York City

I was done, but you undid me

Classic me to run when it feels right

The stage was charged with the chemistry the two lead singers of their respective bands all sharing grins. The cheers growing as Hemmings came closer to share the green microphone, the tech guys skillfully turning Hemmings off; no feedback sounding.

[Chorus: Hemmings & You]

Now I wish we never met

'Cause you're too hard to forget

While he's taking off my dress

I know she's laying on your chest

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

Singing, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Lie, lie, lie, lie, lie

Li-li-lie, lie, lie, lie, lie (Yeah yeah)

I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me

I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

The Australian singer stepped closer to hug you quickly before finding his way to your bandmates too. The crowd all having their phones out in which the hugs would be made into edits, and the shipping would intensify.

"Dublin! You have been incredible to play for. Enjoy the rest of the concert and rock out because I will be doing so backstage." Your voice echoed over the fans with a beaming grin feeling comfortable on stage again.

"This is Easier!" Hemmings shouted as the rest of his band commenced their part of the concert just as they had the last few months.

Watching the guys perform with your own band with you was incredibly bittersweet after touring worldwide for months. The media had eaten up the sudden reappearance of the band with positive publicity increasing the popularity.

"I love this song," Sawyer spoke with a twinkle in their eyes tapping their foot to the beat. James was just barely moving his head to beat while Iris was jumping around uncaring of the people around.

"You love it because we got to collaborate on the song!" James exclaimed, tapping his hip on her thigh. Iris' 5'11 form towered over James' 5'7 height but that never caused issues with them.

James's black hair gleamed blue in the strobe lights tinting his pale complexion as well. Sawyer's hair dyed bright red pairing well with their tawny skin colour with their mocha brown irises. Iris had changed over the break abandoning her past style for a more laidback skater style.

"I'm gonna head to the bus. Grab a shower and change." You informed the band as you started retreating to where the bus was parked.

"See you soon!" Sawyer yelled with their attention halfway back on the band of guys that had given you all a second chance.

Walking down the hall with employees milling around, you barely acknowledged them other than a smile. The performing had taken a lot out of you after a fitful sleep. Carl, your band's security detail and current bouncer to the backdoor, nodded at you.

Carl's colleague would be stationed at the bus as per usual with your routine of catching one song and then leaving. Bea's hardened gaze relentless on scouring the area with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Hey, Bea." You spoke earning a grunt in response from the jaded security detail hired after adjusting back to civilian life.

You didn't have the entire story other than Bea had been in the military, but due to an injury had been medically discharged. Your manager Lucy had been the one to hire her as per the new policy of having two people of different genders on detail.

The bus was quiet as you entered flinching at the sight of your father sitting on the couch with Julie and Carlos beside him. Your mouth gaped at seeing your family after months of only FaceTime and calls.

"Oh my gosh!" You yelled lunging to hug your siblings with wide eyes matching.

Carlos had definitely grown at least two inches since you last saw him, and Julie's hair was pulled back in an intricate style. Her outfit screaming Flynn's advice but her ring was on show that matched your own.

"Surprise!" Ray exclaimed to his eldest child with pride written clear on his face, "I missed you, Mija."

"So, did I!" The cheerful voice of Luke interjected as the three boys of Julie and the Phantoms made their appearance.

Standing further back in a band shirt with Graveyard Petals was Alex's boyfriend Willie with a shy expression. He still felt incredibly guilty of delivering the boys straight into Caleb's hand and often voiced his feelings of not feeling he deserved to be friends.

"Hey, Willie. I like your shirt!" You told the tall skater who sent a shy smile.

"Still weird," Ray muttered having walked in on Reggie towel drying his hair the month before you left for tour.

It had been a very confusing and emotional time for Ray and Carlos to adapt to the new information. After Julie saved the boys and that weird golden glow happened, they had been able to make themselves visible; just no poofing in the vicinity of Ray after he nearly fainted that one time. The details hadn't been worked out yet, but Caleb was out of the picture.

"Did you catch the concert?" You questioned the group tugging on the damp t-shirt you had worn on stage. The fabric was drying after being drenched in the sweat after spending an hour under hot lights and continuous movement on stage.

"We stayed for the one last night. We stayed for your set tonight before we got Bea-"

"-she's terrified by the way," Alex interjected with a grimace on his face at the stoic young woman. The glare at focusing on her scars had truly scared the anxious drummer.

"-to let us on the bus. We wanted to surprise you and congratulate your success." Luke informed the group, "You're insanely talented by the way."

His left hand coming to intertwine with your right hand just as it had before you departed for the world tour. You had grown incredibly close to the guitarist firstly as best friends before developing into a relationship.

"We did explore Dublin for the morning. I'll forever be in Lucy's debt for sending the tickets for us." Ray happily sighed, thinking of the lovely woman that had helped Ray guide his daughter back to herself.

"I'll just hit the shower quick." You swiftly jogged to the back of the tour bus where the shower was situated near the five came rooms. The entire band each had one room and a spare for the driver.

Los Angeles, 2021

Your hair pulled away from your face you sat beside a willow tree in contemplative silence with only your guitar and notebook. You knew that in a few seconds Luke would appear for another writing session.

"I love you." Luke breathlessly spoke as he ran up to you with a great big smile.

The awe at his words blinding your thoughts from the hope you had been feeling for the last week. Luke's hazel eyes glittering in the sun and the smile bubbled onto his face.

"I love you too." The words slipped quickly off the tip of your tongue as the guitarist tugged your form into his body. Supple lips quivering on the skin of warm neck all Luke felt was gratitude.

Luke leant back to brush his calloused fingers on your cheek, "Julie got a call. Someone little birdie sent in a demo to a label."

"I wonder who that happened to be." Your smirk revealing just precisely who had sneakily grabbed the freshly recorded demo.

Lucy had always had an interest in Julie's talent in music but tabled in during the period that Rose died. The grief stealing Julie's voice and leaving behind stage fright hadn't been something Lucy would chance. The manager had always hoped Julie's voice would return.

"You gave Lucy the demo, and she passed in on to the Red Bedroom Records!" Luke was quick to tug you into his arms with a huge grin, "Julie and the Phantoms are getting signed! The owner is personally flying over on Monday to go over the contract and sign it!"

Your words muffled by his chest, "Lucy informed me about that, and she offered to manage you as well."

"Lucy is the best. She gonna mentor and give Flynn an internship to still work with the band. Thank you so much, baby." Luke whispered against the warm skin of your forehead.

"I just decided to speed up the process. Can I tell you something?" At Luke's nod, you continued, "I'm thinking in a few years to open a label of my own. I was hoping you guys and Julie would be interested in doing that with me?"

"I am so down to do that. We're gonna hire an investigator to make sure what Trevor did isn't able to happen at our label." Luke was already passionately thinking of what the hypothetical future label.

"That's perfect!" You beamed, "We could give a workshop to aid songwriting too! I thought that we could name it A Rosie Sunset. My dad called my mom Rosie most of my life and Sunset for your first band."

"I didn't think I could love you more than I did a minute ago. You proved me wrong." Luke breathless laughed before humming when your lips made contact with your own.

The warmth that had been missing the year after you mom passed away had returned, and sometimes you swore the sun shone down on you. You had no doubts it was your mom's way in heaven to hug her children. You and Julie had come to the conclusion that your mom had sent the boys into your lives.

Rose Molina, even in death, did her best to make her children happy. The three remaining members of Sunset Curve the absolute best part of her two daughters lives.

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[theprophetsaid]

I’M SCARED - ANALYSIS

While Another World will live rent-free in my head forever, I’m Scared makes me want to scream. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I know that I had to do an analysis of this one as well. 

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you what to think. I’m writing my analysis based on how the song is presented. You are free to make up your own mind about it. 

Part I: This is personal 

Since I can’t find an interview where Brian talks about I’m Scared, I’ll discuss how he sees himself as a songwriter and how that influences the song. In an interview about his album Back To The Light, Brian says:

"(...) I can only function if a song means something to me regarding human relationships. I like to write about things that are personal, rather than about politics and other wider issues.” 

He labels himself as a personal writer who, above all else, writes about human relationships. That is important in the context of I’m Scared, as it allows me to assume that the voice in the song belongs to himself, not a made up character. 

Brian worked on this album during a period of massive emotional turmoil for him, while he was struggling with his mental health and thought his life was in ruins. That, as you will see, also relates to this specific song. 

Edit / addition:

Since writing this analysis I’ve come across an interview where Brian (very briefly) talks about the song: GW: "I'm Scared" is an interesting one.

MAY: Yeah, that goes back a long way. I kept doing different versions of that, as I kept finding out that I was scared of more and more things. And I figured that most of us are. We just keep it inside. I think it's good to let all that stuff out sometimes. Do a bit of screaming. — Guitar World Magazine, January 1993.

Here, Brian says that the song took a long time to write, but he also “confirms” that it’s about his own fears. In other words, this song is about himself.

Furthermore, Brian has revealed (on his live stream last week) that ‘I’m Scared’ is the first song he wrote for the album. Do what you will with that information.

With all of this in mind, I’ll break down the lyrics and the story that they tell.

—

Part II: The Story

You take me to the party You put me on the stand You're pumping up my heart To the beating of the band You toss it in the air And you don't care where it lands You take it, you break it You're hurting me There’s a clear dynamic set up here. There’s a ‘me’ (Brian, presumably) and a ‘you’ (someone else), but this dynamic is framed in a certain way right off the bat because the person he’s with is doing everything, and doing them to Brian (’You take me to the party’; ‘You put me on the stand). 

The phrase, ‘Pumping up my heart’ seems to be a metaphor for attraction and the heart-racing sensation that it often causes. Then after ‘pumping up [Brian’s] heart’, this person carelessly plays with it and breaks it, hurting him. This person that he’s with is in control while Brian is presented as passive and, frankly, rather powerless in comparison. 

Because I wasn't prepared I couldn't go where you dared You got my whole soul bared I never knew that you cared (No it just ain't fair) I’m scared (x13)

This chorus more or less explains the imbalance in control by implying that it relates to bravery. Brian doesn’t consider himself as daring as the other person, which would make him less able/likely to take control in the dynamic.

Also, ‘you got my whole soul bared’ is interesting because it implies that this person understands Brian on an intimate level in spite of him not opening up; Brian didn’t intentionally bare his soul to them but they can somehow see it regardless.

You take me out to dinner And you swallow me whole You're nothing but a sinner With a dark black soul I figured I could handle you But I'm just a toy You're getting bolder and bolder You're just a bad bad boy

This verse is the game-changer. It describes that Brian went out to dinner with whoever this person is. The difference in bravery/control between them is consistent, but the metaphors that describe the dynamic here are not emotional as they are in the first verse. They are sexual. ‘You swallow me whole’, ‘sinner’, and ‘toy’ have those clear connotations, which heavily implies that there is a sexual aspect to this dynamic. 

(Moreover, being swallowed whole alludes to a... very specific sexual act and I frankly don’t know what to do with that information, but I’ll leave it here: It’s a blowjob, folks.)

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? It’s that last line. It changes everything about this song.

Brian is singing about a man. 

The ‘you’ is explicitly gendered as male. That is non-debatable. Moreover, gendering the ‘you’ in this verse, specifically, is a bold move because it includes so much sexual language. Brian describing himself as this man’s toy, singing about being ‘swallowed whole’ and being unable to handle him... It alludes to a sexual relationship, and I didn’t read into that. That’s just how it’s presented.

What you staring at You're such a scaredy cat When I know that I just can't fight it So what you staring at You're such a scaredy cat Because I'm only scared that maybe I might like it

Edit / Section changed due to new interpretation:

This bridge is interesting mostly because of the way Brian sings it. The bolded lines are sung in a tone that’s different from that of the unbolded ones. It creates the feeling of two people speaking to each other. This makes even more sense when you look at the lines themselves. “What you staring at, you’re such a scaredy-cat” seems like a taunt, whereas “When I know I just can’t fight it” and “Because I’m only scared that maybe I might like it” are framed like responses to this taunt. This paints a picture of the man taunting Brian for staring/being scared, and Brian “responding” to this with the bolded lines.

Now, as far as the meaning behind the bolded lines goes, the ‘it’ is unspecific. However, when you view them in the context of the previous verse, which has a very sexual tone, I think it’s safe to assume what it is that he can’t fight. What he’s scared of liking. It’s about attraction, and it’s about sex. 

After this fear of ‘maybe liking it’ has been sung, the song breaks off into a section in which Brian sings about everything that frightens him. When you listen to the recording, the fears are thrown at you in a rapid pace and it’s difficult to hear them as they pan from ear to ear, but here are some of them:

I'm scared to change, I'm scared to stay the same I'm so scared I want to die I'm scared of dying I'm scared of my thoughts I'm scared of being found out

The bolded fear ‘I’m scared of being found out’ is the last thing you hear when you listen to the song because Brian screams it; it’s louder than anything else. But overall this whole section is a major red flag for his mental health deteriorating; it presents fear as a constant whirl in his mind. Each fear seems to produce yet another fear until it becomes a spiral of sorts. 

(Interestingly, the spiral seems to grow out of his fear of ‘maybe liking it’.)

Following this section, the lyrics jump back to the story of Brian and the other man:

You take me to the limit You take me to the brink You left me with the blues When you found me in the pink You know just what you're saying But your metaphors stink I gotta lick it,or stick it Or this is the end

Edit / section changed due to new interpretation:

As we return to the verse structure, we also return to the dynamic, with the lines “You take me to the limit, you take me to the brink.” These illustrate that the man has taken Brian to “his limit”, probably emotionally, and “to the brink,” which, again… if you look at it in relation to the language and connotations of the previous verse… it can be seen as a, um, sexual brink, if you know what I mean.  

“You left me with the blues when you found me in the pink”. As @iwilltrytobereasonable pointed out in the comments, in the pink is an old metaphor for being in your optimal state of health and wellbeing. The blues is a self-explanatory contrast to that. To me, this line is Brian saying, “You met me at a time where I was doing well but, because of what you did to me, I’m now depressed. So fuck you.”

Now, “I gotta lick it or stick it, or this is the end” is still mysterious to me, but as someone pointed out in the comments, it might be a form of ultimatum. Because this dynamic is written as sexual, I’m gonna assume that the ultimatum is, too.  Since Brian “couldn’t go” where the other man dared, does this refer back to that? Was he given the option to either “lick it” or “stick it”, but couldn’t go there so it just ended? To me, that makes the most sense.

The Hidden Lyric:

Before I move onto the melody, there’s one last thing that I want to talk about, which is a hidden lyric toward the end of the track. By “hidden” I mean that it wasn’t included on the lyric sheet, but you can hear it, muffled in the background. As Brian sings, “I’m scared, I’m scared” repeatedly, there’s a single time where you can hear him quickly yell “Maybe I’m wrong!” afterward.

So the hidden lyric is:

I’m scared (Maybe I’m wrong!)

And… this line kills me because, keeping everything in mind about the narrative of this song and the emotions that it discusses… What might Brian be wrong about?? And why does that scare him so badly?? I think it’s pretty self-explanatory but it seems to be an acknowledgement that he might be wrong… about himself.

With all of That out of the way, I want to end by discussing the melody of the song quickly. 

—

Section III: The Melody

If you read the lyrics to this song before listening to it, chances are that you’re gonna be thrown off as soon as you press ‘play’ because the melody and overall tempo of the song does not match the content of the lyrics at all. It’s a fast-paced, guitar-heavy beat that makes your head spin. The singing is aggressive and full of confidence, which immediately diminishes the heavy words that are coming out of Brian’s mouth. 

Because the beat is so overwhelming, Brian can sing ‘I’m scared’ about 50 times (or more, I haven’t actually counted) in the song and it won’t really land because the rhythm is too distracting. The rhythm tells you something else, it says, ‘bang your head and forget about it’ 

I definitely find it alarming that he sings about such intense fear in a nonchalant way, in a way that almost forces the listener to look past it. Why would Brian choose to do this? I dare suggest that it is to present this song as the ultimate case of irony. It’s as if he’s saying, ‘I’m pouring my heart out to you and you don’t even notice because I’m singing like everything’s fine. I’m pretending that everything is fine.” 

—

Final Thoughts:

So, why does this song make me want to scream?

Well, I think that should be obvious by now. I know this analysis could make some people uncomfortable but, frankly, I don’t care. I don’t think it’s appropriate to ignore the obvious implications of the song’s narrative simply because we don’t want to question what we think we know about Brian’s sexuality. The fact of the matter is that I’m Scared is about a man, and not only that, it is intentionally sexual in tone. That, I think, is non-debatable. What it means, well... As I said, you are free to ponder that on your own. 

[lambourngb]

Nailing that Dynamic- Recs - Day 1

Day 1 for Creator’s Week, and I gotta say, this is my favorite fan event, mainly because it was the first one I participated last year. This little rec set is devoted to dynamics, divided into friendship, found family, and finally romantic (and yes, that’s Malex with me.)

We’ve had two seasons of this show, and while I can’t really relate to aliens or even the immigrant story, I do relate strongly to the stories behind friendship. I can say my appetite for fic with a good friendship dynamic will always be there.

Will You Be My Friend- Circle Yes or No (recs)

Finding You by @myrmidryad  (122,000) - If by chance the canon from high school bums you out, this is the story to read. Gin writing malex is always a ‘no-brainer I’m gonna read it story’ for me, but what really set this epic apart was how beautifully Gin writes the friendship dynamics between Michael & Liz, and Michael & Max. It’s a canon-divergent story with no-murder of Rosa or the shed scene, where in order to avoid enlistment, Alex disappears from Roswell and joins the Max & Liz road trip with Michael in tow. They just need to fill that gap between high school and the opening of the dorms at UNM so they can start a life together. And fill it they do with this road trip. There were moments where I sobbed with how badly Michael needed this in canon and didn’t get it. It also made me like Max, so, yeah. Great writing and characterizations here.

Hit the Road by @bestillmyslashyheart - (7,100) - One of the brightest spots for me in season two was Rosa Ortecho, and one of the most frustrating parts of season two was the fact we didn’t get any interaction between her and Alex. *screams* At least I had a few crumbs of Rosa & Maria (not nearly enough!) but still. Where there’s a glaring gap in canon, thank god there’s fanfic. Marlo treats us to a delightful story written post season 1, but had some surprisingly psychic lines about Malex, number one how they don’t think they are good for one another. I really enjoyed what this story says about leaving-  and honestly, the town of Roswell has so much pain tied to these characters, they should all take long road trips away from it.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex / @michaels-blackhat (5,600 ) - this one is set post-season 2, with all the complications of Michael deciding now wasn’t the right time for him and Alex, while also working on giving Maria the right space after their breakup.  I think it’s pretty clear that Michael needs a friend he’s not related to and someone he hasn’t slept with - to provide him so low-stakes genuine company outside of the alien bullshit and love triangle dynamics. Christi does this beautifully through the eyes of an OC and the number of times I’ve read this story is like 10, and also, it’s inspired my current story about Michael going on dates.

and headin’ out singing our song by @stars-and-sunshine (4,100) post season 2, Alex and Michael head off on a road trip (okay, this is a trope I apparently like since I’ve recced three stories now, hahaha) after Alex’s car breaks down. There’s a careful space in this story, of two men building a friendship again. The roadtrip details are beautiful, but what stayed with me is a scene in the museum. That summer of 2008 had some ghosts to address.

If I Follow You Home, Will You Keep Me? found-family dynamics

When You’re Gone by @bestillmyslashyheart (8,200) - Before I tell you why I love this story, I want everyone to follow the next link and read this story about email and messages and grief in the digital age [trigger for cancer death] chat history by Rebecca  Armendariz. (She also wrote a follow up called Timelines published by the Hairpin that talks about the memory function on facebook.) So back to the story, this is Rosa, opening her email 10 years after her death and reading the messages people sent her, thinking they were speaking into the void. Liz, Maria, Alex, Mimi and Arturo, all of them sending her notes, sometimes time passes without an email, then an event triggers that memory of Rosa not being there- and yeah, I found this whole thing to be so moving.

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me by @spaceskam - (4,400) this probably could have gone in the friendship side, but I feel like when you work in a high stakes place like a hospital, friends is a term that ends up being too light, and with the level of competition and stress it grows a bond like family... anyway, this is an AU where Michael and Kyle end up at the same hospital as competing interns but some elements of canon are still there.

still fixing all the cracks by @emma-arthur -  (3,400) this is a pre-canon story, set when Alex is 14. He’s still a soft child, being tortured by his dad, and soaking up the attention from Liz, Rosa and Arturo when he breaks a glass and spirals. Heavy discussion of child abuse and homophobic abuse, but a really good exploration of the canon-neglected Liz & Alex friendship, plus with that paternal Arturo Ortecho in the mix...

Ophiuchus by @planetsam - (11,600) the other bright side of season 2 was the reveal of Walt Sanders as being not only Michael’s boss, but someone who knew his mother, knew what he was, and silently looked out for him...now of course I wish he had been more overt in doing this, but fanfic once again has fixed this canon-oversight. This is an incredible look through Walt’s eyes as he gets in over his head adopting an alien child, especially one who already had issues from previous foster placements. I could read a million words in this verse.

The Michael Sanders AU by @prouvaireafterdark (17,000 ) And speaking of great AUs where Michael is raised by Walt, I would be really amiss in not mentioning this one. It’s got hot high school Malex moments, emotional/hurt comfort for both Michael’s past foster placements but also the shit Alex is living with at home. I have to say “Honey if You Stay” is my favorite, just because of how badly I wanted to hug teen Alex...

and finally, no found family rec list could be complete without mentioning the epic series To Raise a Child (117,000 in progress) by @haloud and @maeglinthebold - season 2 put some hits on my headspace and emotional reserves, not to mention 2020 nonsense, so I’m dreadfully behind in commenting on this story. It’s just a huge emotional bandaid for me right now- it takes the idea of “what if the adults in Roswell actually looked out for their children (and other peoples children) and protected them from shit” and what would that change. Michael was found at 7 and then runs away to Roswell at 10, so yeah, humans have already done their best to convince him the world sucks and only finding his siblings matters... Jim Valenti steps in, knowing what he is, and finds him a place in Roswell with Arturo Ortecho. Anyway, everyone gets a turn- Jim, Mimi, the kids, etc in the story, it’s well rounded and fleshed out. Obviously being a malex person my favorite parts are the kid-friendship/this-is-just-a-crush moments in second story, where if you hadn’t lost your heart to Michael Ortecho by then, well, you’re a goner after that story. 

I Could Build Your Heart A Home (malex recs)

time will lie down and be still by @islndgurl777 (29,600) the Practical Magic AU - which I loved but I have never seen the movie it’s based on lol... anyway, this story almost belonged up with my found family dynamic recs, because the story opens with Isobel and Michael being 7 and 8 years old alien siblings and left with Mimi Deluca to raise with her daughter Maria, because with their father recently dead, their mother would soon follow as a species level soulmate bond. Michael vows never to fall in love. Then there’s a beautiful friendship between Maria, Liz, Isobel and Michael as they grow up together that I just wanted to roll around in forever... However this is a Malex rec, so once Alex enters the story in high school and things go down similarly with Jesse, Michael is heartbroken, his soulmate (he thinks) is gone, vanished into the Air Force, and he spends the next 10 years helping Maria, going to school with Liz, and keeping in touch with Isobel. Until 2018 when Isobel finds out her perfect man was like them, an alien, and bad, and they are forced to cover up his murder. Then Alex comes to town. But the soulmate storyline is the winner here and I just re-read it again.

here everyone knows (you’re the way to my heart) by @adamsparirsh (19,700) So this story tackles a dynamic that think will be the death-knell to the Alex/Forrest relationship- the weight of the alien secret and Alex’s responsibility gland and what that looks like to someone who wants to be in a relationship with him. The exclusion. But outside of that- there’s this part of Alex that isn’t willing to let anyone in that isn’t already there, and that’s Michael. I’m fucking weak for stories where these two assholes can’t connect with anyone but each other, and this one hits it. There’s also so many lovely friendship dynamics between everyone showing up for Alex- like Rosa, Isobel, Max, Maria. Obviously this is a Malex-is-endgame story, even though it starts Alex/Forrest.

it’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical  (17,000) This was an interesting, now AU take on what if Maria/Michael dated at the same time as Alex/Forrest, and honestly, I thought basted on the season two spoilers that was where we were heading. I was gobsmacked by 2x13. Anyway, here’s a story that discusses the tension that would happen if there had been simultaneous dating going on…the parts where Michael sees Alex being open with someone other than him were very raw and true to how I would think he would feel. For 10 years he wanted that and didn’t get it, and so of course the problem was probably him?? Anyway, I enjoyed this a lot, and again felt robbed that we are heading into a new triangle for season 3. 

untouched by @prouvaireafterdark (5,200) - okay, you know when you have an alien soulmate idea in your head and you want it to appear on the page, and then it does and it’s everything you wanted? That’s what happened to me when ‘Untouched’ appeared. Obviously it’s AU, but my reptile brain just loves the idea that Michael and Alex can’t get off with anyone else, and then that frustration builds into a sexy explosion... there’s also some communcation happening with these clowns. But seriously for 5,000 words, A LOT HAPPENS here and I loved every word.

Would you come home by @caitlesshea (1000) How great would have it been if season 2 had ended with Michael and Alex found a baby in a stasis pod instead of Beardy Jones? Like seriously, this short little fic healed so many of my wounds from season 2 that I couldn’t help but include it here. I would take 50,000 more words in this sadly AU take. 

Hoarding you by @foramomentonly (1200) okay, so the rain smell, like 2x04 was low key my favorite episode of RNM ever, especially with Alex throwing that flirty line “It’s smells like rain, that’s what you smell like under the grease and bourbon’ and this author takes that line, and fucking murders me with the idea that Alex can’t move on because of that smell. And Michael is now his, and finds out about it. This is my head canon, okay? No one can talk me out of it.

If you like any of these recs, please leave a comment on the story- a ‘this was awesome’ is enough to propell an author into the stratosphere with happiness, so don’t worry about coming up with a unique, never before shared insight- sometimes a keyboard smash and emogi makes all the difference!

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

A Muppet Family Christmas

Day 13 of 2018′s 31 Days of Christmas.  Note: new for 2020.  Credited as 2018 for organizational purposes, & back-filling the prompt.

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for the prompt list!

Prompt: Holiday movies

Rating: T (sexual themes, alcohol)

Pairing: TenxRose (AU)

Summary: Despite being mid-January James and Rose have a Christmas-movie watching date, and open up about old grief amidst being childish with the Muppets and Mario Kart.  Part of the Cosier With You ‘verse.

2018 31 Days of Ficmas Masterlist  |  Cosier With You ‘Verse

AO3

---

With a final swipe of gloss across her lips, Rose returned the lipstick to her purse, fluffed her hair, and knocked on the door.

“It’s open!”

Pushing the door open, she grinned at the sight that greeted her.  Hair still obviously wet from the shower, her boyfriend of three weeks (and counting!) stood on the far side of his kitchen island, preoccupied with a popcorn popper that was spitting out perfectly popped corn.  “Hey!” he greeted her warmly, as she dumped her stuff and came around to his side.  “Missed you.”

“I saw you this morning,” she laughed, kissing him hello. “Mm, you taste like butter.”

“I had to make sure it was good,” James shrugged, gesturing to the half-full bowl catching the freshly popped corn.  “Only the best for you.  And yes, but we were at your place of work, surrounded by people.  I much prefer when we’re alone.”

“So do I.”  Wrapping her arms around his waist, she rested her head on his bicep.  “Remind me why we’re watching Christmas movies in mid-January?”

James eased out of her arms as the popper wound down, dumping the last of the kernels into the bowl before switching the machine off. “Because I don’t want to wait a year to curl up with you and popcorn and watch cheesy Christmas-themed movies with you.” He nodded towards a bottle of white wine and two glasses on the counter, still chilled from the fridge, waiting for Rose to grab them before guiding her to the couch, which was already prepared for the evening.

Two soft, fleece-lined blankets stood at the ready, along with the pillows from his bed.  A stack of DVDs sat on the coffee table, two drink coasters optimally positioned, and to complete the Christmas-y vibe, all the decorations, including the tree, were still up.

“So, for future reference, do you typically leave the tree up this long?” she asked, plopping down roughly in the middle of the couch and pulling out the pre-popped cork.  “‘Cause I’ve gotta be honest, mine’s been down since the third, and this might be a sticking point in the future.”

He laughed, settling next to her and reaching for his glass.  “No, but… I’m not ready to take it down yet, this year.  I’m afraid…”

“What?”  She took her own glass, leaning back into the cushions and giving him her full attention.

“I’m afraid that this- what we have- is a function of Christmas magic, and if I remove the decorations…” he trailed off, ears flushing. “Point is, I’m not taking any chances on this.”

Rose grinned, blushing herself, and wiggled closer.  “I’m not going to disappear if you take your tree down,” she promised.  “And I’m mostly teasing you – it’s sort of nice, it still being up.  Not sure I’d say the same if I was living- with one still up,” she faltered, and they shared a smile at what was unsaid- “but… yeah. I wouldn’t want to jinx us either. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”

“Me too.”  He leaned forward, and they met in the middle in a kiss that tasted of salt from the popcorn, tart from the wine, and sweet from what she was learning was just him.  “Mhmm, you’re too tempting,” he accused without heat when he pulled back for breath.  “This isn’t why I asked you over.”

“All right, all right,” she resettled herself with a laugh.  “Fine, we can Netflix then Chill, if that’s what you really want.”

His ears and neck turned a delightful shade of scarlet, and he all but lunged for the stack of DVDs, voice squeaking as he said, “So!  What shall we start with?”

Leaning in again she rested her cheek against his shoulder as they shuffled through the selection, and it took everything she had not to scoff at the final option, managing a neutral tone to say, “A Muppet Family Christmas?”

James stilled beside her, and she was glad she hadn’t laughed when a distant expression flashed across his face. “It was my dad’s favorite Christmas movie,” he said, hesitantly.  “Mum hated it, but tolerated it when we were old enough to watch it.  It became our thing, me Donna and Dad’s.  She and I still watch it together every year.”

“Oh.”  Rose tried to marshal her thoughts, recognizing that he was letting her in on something special, wondering distantly if it was some sort of test.  “I’ve never actually seen it.”

“Really?”

She nodded.  “Slightly before my time.  I know who the Muppets are, of course, saw the Christmas Carol one, but… not this.”

He was silent for a moment, picking at the corner of the box.  “D’you wanna?”

“Yes.”  She surprised them both with the strength of her response, based on how James’ head flew up to blink at her.  “Sounds like this might be the closest I get to meeting your Dad, so- let’s do it.”

His blinding smile told her it was absolutely the right answer.

-

By the end of the movie they were snuggled together, singing along at the top of their lungs to the final song, even as it trailed off to the credits.

“-And a happy new year!” they finished, before breaking into peals of laughter.

“Oh, I loved it,” Rose proclaimed, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes.  “I can’t believe I’ve never seen that – it’s adorable!”

Beside her, James made a happy noise, pressing his face into her bicep.  “Really?”

Wriggling around, Rose waited until she could meet his eye to respond.  “Really,” she said firmly.  “There’s something special about it.  And more importantly, it’s special to you.  So it’s special to me.  Thank you for sharing this bit of yourself with me.”  No words could express how honored she felt, that he was comfortable sharing something so personal with her.  It made her a little wistful for her own father; while both men were gone, James had at least grown up with his father, known him in person- Rose had been a baby when Pete died.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”  James’ concerned tone dragged her out of the spiral of her thoughts, and she looked up at him when he brushed at her cheek.  “You’re crying.”

She bit her lip.  “I was just thinking about my own dad,” she said truthfully.  “I’d give anything to share something like this with him.  Or, anything, really.  I was six months when he- when we lost him.  I mean, on bank holidays Mum and I watch old Cliff Richards movies, but… it’s not quite the same as this.”

“I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to bring up a… a sad memory for you.”  His soulful chocolate eyes felt like they could see into her very heart, and she pushed down the ever-present but background grief.

“It’s okay.  Sometimes it hits me in the weirdest moments.  And I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to meet your Dad – he sounds wonderful, based on your stories.”  Then she bolted upright, as a memory surfaced.  “Holy shit – I think I did meet your dad!  Three Christmases ago, the first couple months you were coming in – we didn’t have much of a relationship then, but I still clocked you every time, ‘cause you’re so bloody cute, and I remember you came in a few days before Christmas with an older man!  You’d been out shopping, and blimey, he looked just like you!”

James was silent for a long moment, before exhaling.  “Blimey, I think you’re right.  I’d forgotten – I was sweet on your even then, and I think he noticed, ‘cause he kept teasing me.  I never took him back, for fear of him embarrassing me.  But… yeah, there you go.  You did meet him.  And he liked you, much as he could in thirty seconds.  Kept egging me to ask you out, and I brushed him off.  If only I’d listened to him…”

They sat with that, imaging what could have been, before Rose clapped her hands.  “No, we are not going down that rabbit hole.  Let’s be grateful that we got there, and we’re here now.  Trust me, I spent my entire life pretending not to notice how my mum had one foot stuck in the could-have-beens.  Better not to start down that path.”  She reached for the bottle of wine, but it was empty.  “What d’you say we go do some stargazing?”

“Or…” he drawled, raising an eyebrow, “we could continue on our childish theme and play Mario Kart.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

-

By the third race their maudlin musings had been all but forgotten, as they battled it out for first place with taunts and good-natured ribbing, giving no quarter and playing as though their lives depended on it – complete with over-dramatic victory dances and cheering.

“Oh, come on!” James protested, as Rose eked out a second win by a breath.  “You’re cheating!”

“Am not,” she denied, settling back on the couch after a final celebratory kick.  “Novice, remember?  Beginner’s luck?”

He grumbled, turning to look at her.  “Care to make it more interesting?”

“How so?”

“Winner takes a shot, loser loses an item of clothing?”

Rose laughed, shaking her head.  “You want to turn strip-racing into a drinking game?”  Leaning back, she considered her outfit and his, then the empty bottle of wine.  “What d’you got for shots?”

A rifle through the fridge produced a cold bottle of peppermint schnapps, “In keeping with the Christmas theme,” he declared, setting it on the coffee table along with two shot glasses.  “Hope you’re thirsty.”

Shaking her head, Rose folded her legs beneath her.  “You do know I’m a sure thing, right?” she teased, choosing the next track in the game.  “You don’t need to get me drunk, or strip to get me interested.”

“Someone’s confident in themself, aren’t they?” he leered. “Better watch out – who knows what the promise of getting you in your knickers will do to my ability in the game?”

“Not a thing,” she shot back, catching her tongue between her teeth.  “Because there’s no where you’re getting me in my knickers.”  She started the race, laughing at his outraged yelp.

“We’ll see.”

The light turned green and they took off, and Rose waited until they were near the end and he was slightly ahead to say, “I’d have to be wearing knickers for you to see me in them.”  As predicted he startled, going so far as to drop his controller, and with a laugh, she sped across the finish line for her third win in a row.  As her character (Princess Peach, natch) was crowned, she turned to watch him splutter, eyes wide.

Finally, he just pointed, making a wheezing sound.  “You…”

She took her shot first, nearly coughing at the overwhelming peppermint flavor, before turning her whole body to him.  “Strip, loser,” she ordered with a smirk.  “And, in case you don’t believe me…”  Brave off the half-bottle of wine and the shot, she lifted her leg to splay it along the back of the sofa, confirming for him that she wasn’t wearing anything beneath her skirt.  Laughing at the awestruck look on his face she returned to facing the telly, tucking her knees primly together.  “I held up my end of the bargain…”

Coming back to life, he shook his head in disgust.  “You’re not playing fair.”  He whipped his shirt off, revealing his lovely muscular chest, and her knees squeezed together just a bit tighter.

“Well, lose quicker then, so we can go to bed.”

-

He didn’t win a single race after that, but an hour later, flat on his back on his living room floor wearing only a single sock, with a sticky and sweaty Rose collapsed on his chest, he couldn’t be bothered to care.

“I love Christmas.”

[mayquita]

Damn You For Making Me Love You (6/15) - Don't Stop Me Now

Thank you so so much, for your likes, reblogs, kudos and comments. It means the world to me.

Beta-Reader: Thank you so much, @ultraluckycatnd​​ I couldn’t have asked for a better beta. Thank you for all your effort, your suggestions, your advice and for always being there when I needed you.

Special mention to @saraswans​​ and @onceuponaprincessworld​​​, thank you so much for your perpetual support and for believing in me and in the story. Thank you again to the moderators of the event, @captainswanbigbang​​​ for giving us this opportunity and making this possible. You all are the best :)

Summary: Emma Swan and Killian Jones are close friends and co-workers. And both are in love with each other. The problem? They keep their feelings secret not only to the other but also to the rest of their friends. When Elsa, Emma’s best friend and Liam, Killian’s brother and Emma’s boss find out, they decide to form an alliance and work as a team with a clear goal, to get Emma and Killian to take the next step in their relationship and confess their love for each other.

Rating: M

Word count: ~ 10700 (98k total in 15 chapters)

Ao3 / FFnet

About this chapter: New flashback from Killian’s point of view, new performance … and new attempt on Liam and Elsa’s plan. If last week's episode was one of the shortest, this is the longest. I may have gotten carried away a little by the flashback... Sorry? I hope you like it, anyway :)

//

Chapter 5: Don't Stop Me Now

Killian - Two and a half years ago

Music had always been a constant in Killian's relationship with Emma. In fact, he had been playing the guitar and singing when they first met. The memory of that first meeting always accompanied him everywhere, to the point that he kept it as something precious. 

It was impossible to forget that first moment when she entered the premises and how the lyrics of the song he was singing seemed to acquire a new meaning because of her. Certainly, she had looked like an angel, with a kind of ethereal aura surrounding her due to the way the bar lighting fell on her. That particular verse — You're just like an angel — had ended up being a kind of prelude since Emma had become the savior angel not only of The Kraken, but also of himself. 

The first look she had given him would always be etched in his memory. He had found himself unable to take his eyes from the fire of her emerald gaze. To say that he fell in love at that very moment would be an exaggeration, but he would never deny that something stirred inside him when their eyes connected. He had definitely felt a kind of electricity enveloping them.

That feeling had not only not faded away but had increased as he got to know Emma. A rather difficult task, considering that she was a reserved woman, reluctant to open herself to others. There was something about her, though, a halo of mystery surrounding her, along with her determination and her incredible talent, that kept him completely bewitched.

His brother Liam, faithful to his standard of taking care for people in need of protection of some kind, took her under his wings from the beginning in such a subtle way that Emma didn't seem to notice. Little by little, she began to trust them, letting her true nature out to bloom and with it, causing his growing feelings towards her to increase even more.

No doubt the music in its different forms had helped to strengthen his feelings since it was as if his passion had always been the soundtrack to all the experiences he had begun to share with Emma. Something that wasn't surprising considering that they spent most of their time in the bar and that he was a musician. Still, he soon began cataloging his favorite songs based on the memories associated with Emma.

The Eye of the Tiger would always be connected with one of their first conversations, back when they barely knew each other and he tried to absorb any bit of information that she allowed herself to reveal.

Livin’ on a Prayer was playing in his favorite pizza shop the first time Emma had decided to accompany them after closing the bar. She even dared to joke with them by using the song's lyrics as an excuse, alluding to the fact that she hoped that the waitress who was serving them didn't have a life like the one of Gina in the song.

The song that opened his first performance in The Kraken was Sweet Child O’ Mine, chosen by Emma. In fact, she was in charge of supervising his entire repertoire and collaborated with him on everything related to his performances on Saturdays in Concert.

There was a song that stood out above the others, though. He had soon learned to respect Emma's reservations about being open to the idea of them as a couple. He also knew that he should be patient with her, perhaps because he had been harboring feelings towards her from the beginning. She had intrigued and seduced him in equal parts, with that look full of determination, her fierce expression, and her disarming smiles. His need to know more about her was overwhelming at times, but he restrained himself, waiting for the right moment. 

The long-awaited moment came on a Monday night one and a half years after they met Emma for the first time. The evening had begun as usual, with a session of Netflix and pizza at the Jones brothers' apartment.

When the show they were watching ended, Liam decided to go to sleep, saying that he had to get up early the next day. Neither Emma nor Killian were in a hurry to call it a night, so they decided to check the set list of songs that Killian would sing next Saturday, putting the player on a low volume so as not to disturb Liam.

Killian couldn't help smiling the moment he recognized the first song by simply listening to the first chords. Don't Stop Me Now had always had that effect on him to the point that Liam had used it as a resource on several occasions when he had needed to lift Killian’s spirits. The song also seemed to have the same effect on Emma, as her lips curled into a bright smile as she began to hum the song softly.

"What?" she asked when she noticed he was staring at her.

His smile widened before answering. "Nothing, it's just that... I feel aliiive."

He chanted the last words, emulating Freddie's tone and causing, of course, Emma to roll her eyes. Still, a reluctant smile tugged at her lips before she decided to play along, much to his pleasant surprise.

"Let me guess, are you having a good time?"

"Oh yeah, I'm having a ball."

They both looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting out laughing while Freddie's voice accompanied them. It was a delight to see Emma in this way, so carefree, so relaxed, so he tried to make his brain work to continue creating situations like this that would allow her to shine even more than she normally did.

On this occasion, it seemed that he wouldn't have to make any effort because once the laughter subsided, their eyes met again, a mischievous spark crossing her gaze.

"Do you know what would make us have an even better time?" She paused deliberately while arching an eyebrow conspiratorially.

"Enlighten me, love."

"Alcohol."

That's how they ended up sharing shots — rum for him, tequila for her — while they continued to check the repertoire and sing along.

It was obvious that they were, in fact, having a good time. What Killian hadn't anticipated was that the ingested alcohol helped play into a sudden wave of nostalgia hitting him in the most unexpected way.

"I love this song," he commented as they listened to Another One Bites the Dust.

"Really?" she asked skeptically, narrowing her eyes. "It doesn't seem to suit you. I would say it's rather a bad-boy kind of song."

"Are you implying that I'm not a bad boy, Swan? Because maybe you would be surprised to know some aspects of my past." He was aware that it was the alcohol in his system that was speaking for him, making him use a tone that was perhaps too suggestive as he gave Emma a look full of intentions.

He wasn't surprised to see Emma rolling her eyes again before turning a little on the couch to stare at him more closely.  "So you've been a bad boy, Jones? Now I want to hear that story."

His brain had become numb enough to make him not care about the consequences of what was about to happen. After a brief hesitation, he took a new shot to drag down the emotions that struggled to emerge as he remembered his past and started to tell his story.

He told her how after his father's abandonment when he was barely fourteen he had entered a rebel stage, constantly getting into fights, smoking, drinking, and even committing some minor crimes.

He also told her that it was his brother who took him out of that spiral and put him back on the right track but that his good behavior was short-lived, much to Liam's despair.

He didn't even hesitate to tell her about Milah, ignoring how his pulse quickened and his heart hammered in his chest at the mere mention of her name. It was as if he had been accumulating all those emotions inside and finally found a way to release them, so he decided to hold on to that opportunity.

"Milah was my first love. I fell in love with her when I was just twenty years old. She was a few years older and came from a failure of a marriage, so she was looking for adventures and new experiences. It was something that I could offer her at that time although that would mean going back to my old habits. We were behaving as if we had the world at our feet and we could achieve whatever we set out to do."

Before continuing, he cast a sidelong glance at Emma. The expression on her face was indecipherable, but she was watching him closely, so he felt confident enough to keep baring his soul.

"I proposed to her a year later. Although Liam never expressed it openly, he never approved of my relationship with her. Anyway, our relationship was not meant to be since we were only engaged for six months." His voice trailed off while he took another sip of his drink, drowning out the intense emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. 

Emma reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. The corners of his lips moved slightly upward in appreciation before continuing. "She died in a car accident and… well, let's say that my brother acted like my lifeline in those days. His perpetual support was the only thing that kept me afloat. And since we're using nautical metaphors, The Kraken served to anchor me to try to forge a future, at least professionally." He didn't mention that his heart was still healing six years later, but Emma's sympathetic look seemed to indicate that she had caught the hint.

Silence fell on them for a few seconds while he felt the pressure in his chest loosen, as if he had freed himself of a burden after his confession. He expected some kind of words of encouragement from Emma and was even prepared for some expression of pity towards him. What he didn't expect was that she also decided to open her heart.

She seemed hesitant, struggling with herself, until after an almost imperceptible nod of her head, she downed the contents of her glass in one swallow and looked at him, her eyes showing a special glow.

"Well... Since it seems that this is a confession kind of night, here goes mine. I was also a bad girl. I mean, that's how they usually catalog you when you're a foster kid and you don't seem to adapt well to anything or to anyone. In my case, I was determined to live up to that description." She sounded quite restrained, but Killian did not miss the hint of bitterness in her voice. Before he could offer any gesture of support, she continued. "I ran away when I was sixteen and, like you, I got into some trouble. A few months later, I met this guy, Neal, and let's say we didn't use the most legal methods to survive."

Killian already knew from previous conversations that Emma was an orphan. She had also dropped some glimpses into her awful romantic experiences, but always without going into details. Until now.

"I fell for him like an idiot. Maybe that's why it hurt a lot more when he decided to run away and even worse, he got me involved in a crime he had committed years previously." Her voice trailed off as she clenched her jaw and averted her gaze for a moment. He debated whether he should reach for her or not but before he decided, she hardened her features and continued speaking in an unexpressive tone. "I would have ended up in prison had it not been for the fact that I was a minor and my social worker decided to take pity on me. She worked hard until I got included in a program that would help me graduate from high school and prepare me to gain entrance into college."

Only when she paused for another drink did Killian realize that he had been holding his breath. He also noticed that he had his right hand curled into a fist to the point that his knuckles turned white, such was the tension he felt when he heard Emma's story. He was aware that there was still more to come, but at least the worst part seemed to have passed since Emma's expression eased a little, much to his relief.

"And that's where the Arendelle sisters come in. Anna was my roommate during college but Elsa lived relatively close to the campus and we saw her quite often. You already know how Elsa is, always wanting to take care of others. For some reason, she seemed to be fond of me and took me under her wings, involving me in all kinds of activities and inviting me to spend every vacation together with them."

Killian liked Elsa. She was a kind, caring person, who always had a gentle smile or words of encouragement for the people around her. He was aware that the connection between Emma and Elsa was stronger than that with Anna, probably because they were more alike and because Emma saw Elsa as a kind of older sister since Elsa was four years older. He was thankful that chance or fate had put the two sisters in Emma's path, thus giving her the support she deserved after a childhood marked by loneliness.

"Well, that seems like it hasn't changed over time. I mean Elsa and her tendency to take care of the people around her."

"You're right, of course. In fact, during the time I was in New York after finishing college, she called me constantly to make sure I was eating enough." She sounded annoyed but the smile that appeared on her face was full of affection. "Speaking of New York," she paused for a moment, her expression becoming more serious. "We're already reaching the last chapter of Emma's pathetic life." She let out a humorless laugh before continuing. Once again, he was tempted to reach for her and offer her some comfort, but he restrained himself once again to let her resume her story. 

"I went to New York for a job opportunity and I soon met this guy there, Walsh. Everything went well for a few months until the company I worked for went bankrupt and I discovered that Walsh was cheating on me. So I took my belongings and returned to Boston with Elsa with a broken heart and hardly any savings. And you already know the rest."

"Well, I would say that our lives are no longer pathetic, Swan. Look at us, running a successful business and fulfilling our dreams in some way, me with my music and you with your creative magic and your pictures."

"It's not that bad," she admitted reluctantly while her lips twisted up in an attempt at a smile. At least the bitterness seemed to have disappeared from her voice and her features had softened. "Look at us at... " She paused for a moment while she looked around with a confused expression on her face until she spotted her phone and grabbed it, looking at the screen "...at almost two in the morning, listening to our favorite music and a little drunk.  And we don't have to get up early tomorrow, which is pretty fantastic and besides... At least for my part, I have my heart sealed so there is no risk of anyone breaking it again. So everything is fine, isn't it?"

Killian felt his heart drop into his stomach after hearing her last words, but he chose to ignore the feeling of disappointment that threatened to emerge, focusing again on Emma. She looked beautiful with her flushed cheeks and her emerald gaze intensified by her slightly watery eyes. Her innate beauty was undeniable, although he suspected that alcohol — and the moment of confessions — had something to do with those two aspects. Her speech had also become a bit slurred, so, although they hadn't drunk that much, he wondered if it was time to stop. Again, Emma surprised him before he could even open his mouth.

Her gaze shifted back to the phone she was still holding, her brow furrowed in an expression of concentration as she slid her finger across the screen, as if she were looking for something. The living room remained silent for a moment until she got up from the couch and the first notes of a song began to play. A well-known song. Again. 

Don't Stop Me Now. The song that had started this entire cathartic night.

"Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time, I feel alive and the world I'll turn it inside out, yeah and floating around in ecstasy." 

Emma Swan was singing to him with a soft and suggestive voice as she stared at him. Killian remained still, watching her performance with rapt attention as he pressed his lips together to keep his mouth from hanging open. She wasn't an angel anymore, she was a goddess and he was totally at her mercy.

Well, his thoughts might run a little wild due to his state of semi inebriation, but then Emma offered him her brightest smile as she raised her hand holding up her glass and making the gesture of toasting. "Come on, we're having a good time." She hummed again as she grabbed his hand and pulled him up. He had no choice but to oblige, of course.

It was in this way, singing and dancing in unison to the rhythm of the music, when Killian was finally able to admit his true feelings. He was in love with Emma, that incredible woman, who had risen from her ashes and who, despite the darkness she had gone through during her early years, now was able to bring light to the people around her. His heart was finally healing, although it was evident from Emma's words that it would still take her a long time to reach that level, if she ever got it. Still, he set himself a goal, to try to keep Emma in the light and not let anything or anyone ever hurt her again.

"What the hell are you doing? It's two in the bloody morning!" Liam's unexpected angry voice brought him back to reality. He snapped his head in the direction of the voice and found his brother leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, and a scowling expression on his face.

Although the music was still playing, the two of them suddenly stopped singing as they looked at each other and then at Liam. When he heard a giggle from Emma, he couldn't hold it anymore. A chuckle bubbled in his throat as the two of them looked back at each other and finally burst out laughing.

"Ha, ha. It's not funny, guys," Liam grumbled as the wrinkle in his brow deepened, causing their laughter to grow even more intense.

"Come and join us, Liam." Once the laughter subsided Emma gestured to Liam with her hand while offering him a glass of rum. "We're celebrating."

"Don't be an ass and have some fun even for just one day. Or night," Killian added while smirking at his brother.

"What are we supposed to be celebrating?" Liam ignored him and instead stepped forward and grabbed the phone to stop the music. Next, he focused his gaze on Emma as his features softened. It was obvious that his brother had a soft spot for her, and he didn't really blame him. The funny thing was that he had never felt jealous of his brother because, in his eyes, the relationship between Liam and Emma was rather fraternal, as if she were his little sister, which sounded a bit weird considering his own affections towards her…

Stop. Bloody hell, he was definitely drunk.

"We're celebrating—" Emma stopped for a moment while waving her hand as if she were holding a microphone, "that we're having a good time," she hummed, emulating Freddie's voice.

"So don't stop us now," Killian sang, going along with her.

Liam let out a deep sigh before raising his eyes to the ceiling while hissing, "Dear Lord, give me patience." Then he grabbed the glass Emma was offering him. "Why are we toasting now?"

"To us," Emma responded by raising her glass.

"And because a broken heart means that it still works," Killian ventured to add as he cast a sidelong glance at Emma for her reaction. Her head snapped in his direction as she held his gaze for a moment, her cheeks tinting a soft pink hue. She opened her mouth, but before she could say anything out loud, his brother came forward.

"Did I miss something?" Liam asked, his narrowed eyes flicking from him to Emma.

"Nothing," Emma hurried to answer after throwing Killian one last furtive look. "It's just that your brother seems to become a little sappy when he drinks."

Liam grinned, any trace of his previous anger faded from both his voice and his face when he found his favorite entertainment, messing with Killian. "He definitely can't hold his liquor."

"I'm still here." This time, it was his turn to sound moody. "And I can definitely hold my liquor."

"Whatever you say, little brother. Come on, we're going to toast one last time and then I'm dragging you to bed." Killian rolled his eyes, holding back a harsh retort. He instead focused on Emma again.

"Since it's so late, I guess my old brother would agree with me that you should stay overnight. You know there's room for you, Swan."

In response, Emma raised her glass, her lips curved into a wide smile. "Let's make a toast to us and to the succulent breakfast that Liam is going to prepare for these two poor hangovers."

This wouldn't be the first time Emma stayed for the night and, although Emma wasn't a morning person, it was always a pleasure to see her sleepy face first thing in the morning. While their glasses clinked together he hoped that these special moments would be repeated more often. He was willing to experience this sweet torture as much as possible.

//

Killian - December 2019

Saturday night. The adrenaline rushed through Killian’s veins and his whole body vibrated in anticipation of what was to come that night. He could almost feel the touch of the guitar strings on his fingertips, and how his vocal cords tensed, impatient to begin to work out their magic in the form of a melody.

This state of excitement was not something new to him. On the contrary, it was his usual condition on his concert nights. Everything was possible when he was on stage, he could feel it on every fiber of his being. He felt so alive in those moments, freer to express his feelings through the music. He felt powerful, able to get anything he set out to do. Well, almost everything.

The sounds around him brought him back to reality. He was behind the bar, following his usual routine on concert nights. He forced himself to act that way every Saturday night as a means of distraction, to keep his excitement at bay.

And tonight was not going to be any different. In front of him, two young women waited for their drinks. He offered them his trademark smile, a flash of white teeth and curled lips as he unfolded all his charms over the two customers. They, in turn, gave him bright smiles and suggestive glances, full of promise.

He was fully aware of the effect he had on the female clientele —and also on some male clients of course— but this kind of seduction game was just a part of his job. At the end of the day, he always went home escorted by his two favorite people in this world. His brother and his... well, his friend. For this reason, although his smile was directed at his avid clients, his gaze had only one goal, Emma Swan.

She was stunning that night, slipping through the crowd as she took photos right in front of him, teasing him like a bloody siren. Her choice of attire did not help to calm his agitation, but rather the opposite. She wore a tiny black top and black leather leggings, which, along with the heels she was also wearing, made her legs look slender. Her golden hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, which enhanced her features, making her even more desirable. A bloody siren.

He couldn’t take his gaze away from her. His eyes watched all her movements through the room and she seemed fully aware of his scrutiny. Maybe he was just imagining things, but the truth was that her suggestive movements were driving him crazy, especially when thinking that a little later they would have to share the stage.

His lips curled into a smile at the thought of their next performance together, his mind bringing to his memory the moment he unveiled the mystery and informed her of the song they would sing tonight.

 //

He hoped he had made the right decision. 

After their kind of impromptu and then failed date the night before, Killian was going to meet Emma early at The Kraken to begin rehearsals for their upcoming performance. As he waited, his mind relived, again and again, some of the moments experienced the night before.

Emma had come to the restaurant wearing the same bloody dress from two months ago when they met by chance in that bar. Killian suspected that she was aware of the effect her attire had on him, yet he did his best to hold her gaze and keep his eyes from straying a little lower. ‘Bloody hell’. The sole image of her impressive neckline was enough to make his blood run hot in his veins.

Something different was happening between them. It was such a subtle change that Killian still couldn’t identify its meaning, but from that fateful day that he confessed his feelings about Emma to Liam due in part to Belle's betrayal, it was as if his attraction to Emma had multiplied. He felt freer now that he didn’t have to hide in front of his brother's eyes. The hope that his feelings might be reciprocated became more and more intense, as Emma was closer than ever; more affectionate, more tempting. Maybe it was only a matter of time. Or maybe it was just his imagination and Emma still saw him as just a friend.

The temptation to choose a romantic song as an instrument to express his feelings had been strong. After the experience with ‘Because The Night’, the idea of following the pattern his brother had started was quite attractive. He had even created a list of possible candidate songs. But this time, he couldn’t use his brother as an excuse as to the choice of the song. This time, the weight of the choice fell entirely upon him. Maybe he would be exposing himself too much, risking her picking up the hidden message and pushing herself away, raising her walls again.

No, he couldn’t take the risk, not now that her walls were so low that the line between friendship and something else was so faint. He would choose a fresh, positive theme that would at least allow them to have fun on stage, but that at the same time would have a somewhat deeper meaning which he expected Emma to grasp.

Killian grabbed his guitar and began to play the first notes while clearing his voice and trying to adjust the tone to the song. Just then, the front door of the premises opened with Emma appearing there in all her splendor.

Emma Swan was not a morning person. Killian became aware of that fact shortly after meeting her for the first time. It was a day where they had to take inventory at The Kraken at a time when ‘it should be forbidden to get out of bed’ (her words). Her complaints and sulky expression softened only when she had ingested a sufficient dose of caffeine. This time wasn't going to be any different, of course. Her features were still marked by sleep, her eyes slightly swollen, and her lips pursed in an adorable pout.

She grunted something like "morning," and dropped into one of the bar stools, burying her head in her folded arms on the counter. Killian couldn’t help but smile as he set the guitar on the stage and moved behind the bar. He pulled out the to-go cup of coffee he had previously bought and gave her a gentle squeeze on her arm to get her attention. 

Emma raised her head enough for her eyes to detect the cup. "I'm still blaming you. Coffee is not enough." She pointed at him with an accusatory finger, but grabbed the cup and brought it to her lips, her throat emitting the most delicious sounds as a sign of appreciation for the hot liquid.

A few minutes later, Emma seemed to have recovered enough. A small wrinkle still remained on her forehead but she straightened her back and, at last, she focused her gaze on him.

"I need a reminder. At what point did this one-time thing become something else?" Her tone still had a harsh hue, but though her words were meant to be a reproach, her voice seemed to hide some amusement with the whole situation.

"Since we started using it as a business strategy, maybe? Or because you and I had a good time up there?" he offered, pointing toward the stage. Then he leaned over the counter, invading her personal space. "Or perhaps because it's the perfect excuse to spend time with a devilishly handsome guy?"

Emma rolled her eyes, a faint smile adorning her lips. "We already spend all our time together, I do not need any excuse." The fact that she had not denied the devilishly handsome thing didn’t go unnoticed by him, a wide smirk pulling up the corner of his lips.

"Shall we start the rehearsals now that the caffeine has taken effect?"

Emma let out a puff of air through a loud sigh. "Okay, if it has to be... Can you just tell me which song we are going to sing?"

Killian cleared his throat as he gave her a mischievous look. Then, he just hummed.

“Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time I feel aliiiiive”

Her eyes widened in recognition, a soft blush coloring her cheeks. Good. That was what he intended, for her to grasp the implications of his choice.

"Seriously?"

“And the world I'll turn it inside out - yeah

And floating around in ecstasy”

"You're serious, aren’t you? You want me to sing ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’? Why?" She seemed pleasantly surprised by the choice, but Killian did not miss a hint of disappointment in her voice. He tried not to read too much into it, but still, the idea that she might be somewhat disappointed because she expected a more romantic song caused his stomach to make a small somersault.

Killian stepped out from behind the bar and approached her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her to her feet. "Because we already have experience singing this song together. Because it brings me good memories. And because we'll have fun."

"We'll have fun," she parroted his last words as she tilted her head slightly, seeking his gaze, her eyebrow raised in question. "There's something else, right?"

Killian wagged his eyebrows at her, schooling his features so as not to betray the delight it meant to him that she knew him so well. "Well, I've prepared a musical base that can fit well with our voices. Besides, there may be another surprise..."

"Like what?"

She was both intrigued and excited; he could tell both from the slightly demanding tone of her voice as well as the intensity of her gaze, so Killian decided to go a little further with the game. "I'm thinking maybe it's a good idea if we leave the surprise for Saturday..."

"Don't you dare, Jones." She cut him off while hitting him in the chest with the palm of her hand. "I won't get on that stage without knowing what I'll find on it."

"Oh, but sometimes facing the unknown can be exciting, Swan."

"Just tell me."

"If the lady insists..." Killian let out a heavy sigh of resignation to give more effect to his confession. "I'm going to play the piano."

Her eyes widened in surprise as she stared at him with a strange expression on her face. "You mean Saturday on stage?"

He nodded his head, holding her gaze. "This song brings me very good memories, although some may be somewhat blurry. You know what I mean..." Before continuing he winked at her to emphasize his words. Her reaction was as expected, she offered him a look of complicity as she bit her lower lip in an adorable and yet so tempting gesture that he had to suppress the sudden urge to kiss her. "What do you say, Swan? Are you willing to create new memories with me and with the help of the piano?

The bright smile that blossomed on her face did nothing to mitigate the desire to finally taste those lips. Her response also did not help in the least, to be honest.

"But no alcohol is allowed before going on stage, okay? I intend to remember every detail of our performance." This time it was she who winked at him before separating from him and heading towards the stage.

He needed a few seconds before reacting, unable to decide if that game of seduction recently initiated by Emma was innocent, hiding a promising meaning or, on the contrary, was just a way to torture him. Oblivious to his inner turmoil, she went up the stage first and held her hand out to him. "Shall we begin then?"

Bloody hell. He was so fucked up.

 //

“Killian! You start in five minutes.”

Liam's voice coming from the other side of the bar brought him back to reality. Killian shook his thoughts away for at least a while, looked in his brother's direction, and nodded his head. 

Killian didn't miss that while serving, Liam was chatting animatedly with Elsa. Fortunately, she had already recovered from her cold, and, in her words, she wouldn't miss their performance for anything in the world. Actually, Killian had begun to suspect — he was totally blaming Emma for this — that her usual presence there lately had another explanation.

Elsa even had come up with a plan for the next day that included the four of them. A soft chuckle escaped from his lips when Killian remembered Emma's reaction to this new plan, looking at him while raising an eyebrow in a barely subtle gesture, as if she were saying, ‘See? I told you so!’

Killian paused for a moment to observe them. Liam and Elsa were totally focused on each other as they chatted as if they were sharing something confidential. Killian wondered if maybe he should ask his brother about this change in attitude towards Elsa. He wasn't quite sure what the most appropriate way to approach the subject would be, given that Liam's relationship history was rather sparse.

He shook his head making a mental note to share the news with Emma later. Now he had to focus on his performance. He went into the office to pick up his guitar and tune the strings before starting. When he came out, he headed toward the stage. The pre-performance adrenaline ran through his veins, his muscles tensed in anticipation.

Emma was already waiting for him in her usual spot, on one side of the stage, a wide smile of encouragement drawn on her face. If things were different, he would kiss her senseless before climbing the stage. For now, though, he could only settle for a tight embrace. Their bodies joined for a few seconds while he buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her intoxicant scent. He had become accustomed to these hugs as a prelude to his performance. It was as if the contact with her body gave him the necessary energy to give the best of himself up on the stage.

Before pulling away, she gave him a soft kiss on his cheek as she lightly squeezed his arm. He, in turn, took two deep breaths and smiled back as he nodded. He was prepared. Emma held up the camera as she told him, "Don't think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second."

"I would despair if you did, love. I'll see you in a while up there." He winked at her before walking to the center of the stage where Liam was already announcing the performance.

As the public began to clap and cheer, Liam stepped aside and patted his shoulder. Killian turned his head, looking for the sound engineer, and nodded subtly. His heart pounded against his rib cage as the music began to play, wrapping the entire room. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, his gaze sought Emma. 

There she was, in the middle of the crowd, right in front of the stage, camera in hand. She smiled at him as she nodded. 

That was all he needed. 

His fingers slid over the strings of the guitar, creating the first chords as his vocal cords began to vibrate, and from there the magic appeared in the form of a melody.

For the next little while, he devoted himself to the music. He let it flow through his body, as the public accompanied him enthusiastically, chanting the songs, and cheering him on with applause and whistles. 

Despite being focused on music, he kept track of Emma's movements. She, in turn, kept taking pictures of the crowd, but above all, took many more of him. He couldn’t wait to have her by his side. Although he would never acknowledge it, Liam's idea of Emma singing with him had been brilliant, on all levels.

He continued to sing a couple more songs, moving around the stage and encouraging the audience to sing along with him. Tonight there was something in the atmosphere that made him feel more exhilarated than on previous occasions. He let himself go and enjoyed the most of the moment. After one last song in which he gave everything of himself, the moment to share the stage finally came.

The last musical notes still echoed in the room when he grabbed the microphone with both hands and set out to introduce Emma.

"Thank you all, you are the best!" he shrieked, his breathing trying to normalize after the last song. "We still have one last performance as an encore for this special night. I ask for the loudest applause to welcome a great and talented person, a good co-worker, and the best friend that anyone can have. I present to you all, Emma Swan!"

She was ravishing tonight, he thought as he watched her step onto the stage. He was going to have a very hard time concentrating while Emma looked at him in that intense and suggestive way. Her lips curved into a smile he wanted to erase with his own lips on hers. But he was a professional first, so before the music began, he gave her a brief hug as he handed the microphone to her. He could feel she was nervous; this was new to her, after all. In an attempt to reassure her and before he took his place at the piano, he whispered in her ear, "Remember the rehearsals, love. Let yourself go, everything will turn out well." He squeezed her arm slightly, Emma nodding with a small smile. Then he walked over to the piano, trying to pull himself together.

Once more, he closed his eyes for a second, put his hands on the keys and, after two deep breaths, began to sing.

Their performance was everything he had imagined and more. Killian was especially inspired with the piano that night even though he hadn’t played the instrument for some time. That night, though, his fingers slid over the keys as if they had a life of their own. His voice sounded totally tuned, fitting with Emma's to perfection.

Perhaps her presence was what inspired him to give the best of himself. She was a goddess on stage. Maybe it was his partial vision because of his feelings for her, but the truth was that she was a natural up there. Once the initial nerves were over, she got into the performance, encouraging the crowd to sing with them. She jumped around and gestured towards him at times, like during the line ‘give me a call’ in which she simulated she was holding a phone while holding his gaze. He was surprised that he could be so attuned to the music with such distraction in front of him.

When the performance ended, his heart was beating frantically against his chest, his body was sweating but he felt elated, the discharge of adrenaline had had its effect. He couldn’t resist the temptation and pulled Emma towards him, wrapping her in a tight embrace to which she responded with the same enthusiasm, to his satisfaction. After a few seconds, they separated a little, but they held their arms around each other's waists. The public was still roaring and cheering around them, so they thanked them with a bow as they waved their hands.

Before leaving the stage, though, Emma had something prepared. She grabbed the microphone again, addressing the audience, her voice still sounding slightly breathless after her performance.

"Thank you very much to everyone for joining us tonight, and we hope to see you again next week for a new session of 'Saturdays in Concert.' Remember, you can visit our website and leave your comments there. And you can also choose what song you would like us to sing together next time. Thank you!" Emma applauded the audience, getting well deserved new cheers. Killian was impressed with this brilliant woman. She not only was able to shine on top of a stage but had the ability to seize the opportunity to boost their business. His admiration for her grew at times.

The ovation of the crowd accompanied them on their way to the bar, where Liam and Elsa were waiting for them. His heart swelled in his chest as he saw the proud smile his brother was wearing. Liam's approval meant the world to him, after everything he had done for him in recent years.

"Very well done guys," Elsa greeted them with an amused smile. "You two make a great team up there."

"You don’t have to thank me for having this great idea," Liam added, waving his hand in front of them.

Emma snorted at Killian’s side at Liam's words and he was about to reply, but then he realized that Elsa had looked away as her lips curled into a thinly concealed smile. He followed her gaze, seeing that what Elsa was watching was his hand and Emma's, which had remained entwined since they left the stage.

That didn’t seem to matter to Emma since she made no attempt to free her hand, so he ventured, giving her a slight squeeze, while his thumb brushed her palm. Far from pushing him away, she turned her gaze to him, her lips drawing a small smile, matching his own. He then looked at his brother, who was giving him a penetrating look that contained a special glow. He could also notice that Liam nodded almost imperceptibly. It was as if he were telling him, without needing to express it aloud, that he was following the right path on his journey to win Emma's heart.

//

Two hours later, all the customers had left The Kraken with the exception of Elsa, who had even helped them clean up after closing. Ruby and Robin had also left the premises, so there were only the four of them left, a picture that was becoming quite common lately, something that he didn't mind at all.

They were now sitting at the bar sharing shots to celebrate another successful night. It was nice to share these moments of camaraderie with the most important people in his life. The addition of Elsa to the small group was an incentive, as it had been like a breath of fresh air, giving them the opportunity to carry on new experiences.

And that was what they were talking about at that moment, about the new idea Elsa had suggested as a plan to hang out together. The idea of going ice-skating at an outdoor artificial ice rink that was open during the winter hadn’t seemed too attractive at first. Killian had barely skated previously and felt a bit clumsy in that aspect. But little by little, he began to see the advantages of the plan. Since both he and Emma seemed to have the same level of clumsiness, perhaps they would have to hold on to each other to avoid falling to the ground. 

Yes, it was definitely not a bad idea. Not at all.

"I'm not sure I like that plan." Emma, sitting next to him, didn’t seem so convinced. "I mean, it's freezing outside, and I don't want to fall on the ice. Just thinking about it makes me shiver." She groaned as she crossed her arms and rubbed them with both her hands as if she wanted to warm herself up. Her lips pursed into a pout that was meant to show annoyance, but which Killian found adorable.

"Oh, come on, Emma, we'll have a good time. Don't be afraid of falling. Besides, exercise will make you warm up quicker," Elsa encouraged her.

"Well, guys, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. What do you say if we close and go to the restaurant next door? You're coming with us, aren't you, Elsa?" Killian raised an eyebrow at hearing his brother refer to Elsa directly. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but all this looked promising.

That's how they ended up at a twenty-four-hour restaurant eating pizza at two in the morning. They chose a booth away from the entrance, with Elsa and Liam sitting together on one side, while Emma and Killian were on the other side. Sleep seemed to have abandoned them all despite the hour, no one was in a hurry to go to bed. Instead, they chatted nonchalantly about any subject that went through their heads, making the half-empty premises fill with their voices and laughter.

At some point, Killian put his arm around Emma's shoulders as she placed her hand on his thigh, close to his knee. It was an innocent gesture, just a display of affection between two close friends. He was aware, though, that the image they gave to the rest of the people was quite different. Anyone who saw them that way would think of them as a couple. But as long as he could maintain that confidence and closeness with Emma, he couldn’t care less what people might think about it.

What he had with Emma now was so precious that he wasn't going to risk losing it by acting hastily. He had the impression that Emma might feel more for him than a simple friendship, especially if he compared it to her relationship with Liam, the other person closest to her. However, her fear of ending with a broken heart again kept her paralyzed. 

He just had to be patient and show her again and again that he wasn't going anywhere. And these new opportunities offered by both his brother and Elsa were bringing them closer. For that reason, the plan to go skating was so attractive. It was the perfect excuse to maintain the physical contact between them, something to which he found more and more difficult to resist himself.

Perhaps if he added an incentive to the experience, it would improve even more. The corners of his lips rose slightly as an idea settled on his head. "What do you think, guys, if we make a bet?"

The three of them looked at Killian with the same expression of confusion on their faces. Once he got their attention, he continued.

"The first to fall to the ground tomorrow will have to pay for a round of drinks for the others."

The first to react was Elsa, who smirked while rubbing her hands together. "I like that idea. I know that no matter what happens, I'm going to get free drinks tomorrow."

Liam, though, didn’t seem so convinced. "We aren't especially skilled in this matter. I don’t get the point. It's very likely that the first thing that happens as soon as any of us step on the ice is that we fall."

"You know I like a challenge, brother. What do you say, Swan? Are you aiming to get this idiot to buy us some drinks?" As he spoke, he held his arm even more tightly around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him.

"Yeah, we're gonna beat you, Liam."

"Hey, that's not fair. This is supposed to be an individual competition and you two have already allied against me," Liam grumbled, frowning as he pointed to both of them.

"Don’t complain, you have an expert to help you stand up. You're going to help my clumsy brother, aren't you, Elsa?" Killian cocked his head slightly, his teasing words disguised in an innocent tone.

Elsa's cheeks flushed furiously, raising Killian's suspicions that something between them could come up. He would be glad if that happened. Liam had been so focused on taking care of him in the first place and then running the business and trying to keep it afloat that he had barely had time for himself. Elsa was perfect for him, sweet and calm but with great determination. Maybe Emma was right and they just needed a little push…

Liam's sigh brought him back to reality. He seemed to have resigned himself because then he held up his beer. "Okay, do we have a deal?"

Everyone toasted as a way to close the deal. The friendly talk still went on for a while. Killian hoped the next day's plan would bring them at least as good a time as they had experienced today.

//

It was a cold, Sunday afternoon. Killian adjusted the beanie he wore to protect himself from the cold and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to warm himself. He could feel his fingers were almost frozen despite the protection of his gloves. The idea of ice-skating was no longer so appealing to him, especially as the cold filtered through his bones as he waited for the lasses. They were late.

"There they are, at last." His brother gave Killian a nudge to catch his attention as he pointed to them.

Bloody hell. Emma was impressive on that Sunday afternoon. She wore a beanie, her golden hair falling in curls and framing her features. Her cheeks had a rosy hue, her bright eyes and her gleaming smile were enough to warm both his body and his heart.

The two brothers greeted the two friends with kisses on their cheeks. After a brief chat, they all approached the skating rink and slipped on their skates. The moment his feet came into contact with the ground, he had to cling to the railing to avoid falling. Bloody hell, this was going to be more complicated than it seemed at first. How on earth would he stand on only two blades on that slippery rink?

Killian looked around; both Liam and Emma had the same problem keeping their balance. Emma's expression even showed a little panic. Fortunately, Elsa soon came to their rescue. Since she was the expert on the subject, she stood before them, prepared to give them a little lesson. Elsa taught them the basic motions, showing infinite patience to their endless questions and reassuring all their fears. Killian listened attentively, feeling somehow like one of the children Elsa taught to skate. He was willing to absorb everything she could offer him if that would help him stay up long enough not to be the first to fall.

"Okay guys, so far we’ve only done the theory. Now let's start practicing slowly. You two look at our movements," Elsa said to the two brothers. Though her words held their usual soft tone, she imprinted a touch of firmness in her voice. "Emma, come with me."

"What? Why me?" Emma cringed a bit at his side, her panicked expression became more evident.

"Come on, don’t be afraid. I won’t let you down." Elsa's soft, reassuring voice seemed to have an effect on Emma. When Elsa held out her hand to her, she seemed hesitant at first, but then grabbed her friend's hand firmly.

That's my girl, he thought with pride. The two women moved in front of them, Emma emulating Elsa's movements as she tried to keep her balance. The addition of Emma to this kind of masterclass was an incentive, no doubt, since it was the perfect excuse for him to observe her carefully. Once Elsa made sure that the three of them had assimilated the basics it was time to move to the next level. She offered Emma her hand again. "Now let's skate a bit through the skating rink. Slowly, just so you can gain confidence, okay?"

Emma nodded hesitantly but gripped Elsa's hand firmly. Both began to move away with slow movements at first, Elsa holding Emma's hand as she did her best to move without falling.

Slowly, Emma was gaining confidence in her movements, adding a little more speed as she slid down the rink. Killian couldn’t take his eyes off her, following her every move. He felt bewitched by her rosy cheeks just as much from the exercise as from the cold of their surroundings; by her hair dancing in the wind as she moved. And by her smile, hesitant at first, but that was widening as her confidence increased. She was a goddess and she seemed to perform a show just for him. 

At least it was what he deduced when he realized that Emma took any opportunity to look for his eyes, her gaze so intense that it could take his breath away.

"Close your mouth little brother." His brother's voice filled with amusement brought him out of his reverie.

He finally turned his gaze from Emma and fixed it on Liam as he mumbled. "I don’t know about you, but I'm trying to learn not to be the first to fall. The bet is still up, older brother." His lips curled into a smirk as his eyebrow rose defiantly.

Liam snorted at his side but didn’t reply to him. They both continued to stare at the ladies in silence. A few minutes later, the two lasses skated in their direction, both of them clearly excited as they approached.

Maybe it was the speed or maybe Emma still didn’t have complete control on the skates at all. Regardless, the truth was that she rushed directly at him with so much momentum that Killian had to hold onto her with one hand and cling to the railing with the other to avoid both of them ending up on the ground.

"Easy, Swan. You don’t want us to lose the bloody bet before we start playing."

"Whoa, it's been incredible." Emma made no attempt to move away from him, to Killian's satisfaction. It was a delight to see her with that level of emotion, vibrating in his arms.

"Okay, next level." After catching her breath, Elsa continued. "Since Emma is no longer a beginner, I'm going to take Liam now, while you, Killian, let Emma guide you. Remember, guys, it's important to keep the balance point; don't lean your weight on the other person, use your joined hands as support to keep your balance. And don't be afraid, let yourself go and have fun!”

Killian had to admit that he had some respect for the ice. He had always preferred water in its liquid state and found it much less dangerous to sail in a rough sea than to slip on the damn slippery ice. But he liked a challenge. He had set a clear goal, that he and Emma would stand for longer than Liam. And, if to beat his brother he had to skate, so be it.

"What do you say, love? Do we show these two what we can do together?" As he spoke, he offered her his hand and she took it with determination and a smile drawn on her face.

"Sure, let's go."

Emma grabbed his hand and they began to move, moving away from the safety offered by the railing. It was much more difficult than he imagined; he had to make great efforts to avoid falling to the ground. Still, having Emma by his side was an incentive as she managed to convey the confidence he needed to keep moving.

They began to move faster, the grip on the ice felt firmer, and Emma's support helped keep his balance. Once overcoming his initial fears, Killian found himself enjoying the experience more than he imagined at first.

The initial cold he felt was gone. The mixture of exercise and seeing Emma with that carefree, happy expression as she gripped his hand while occasionally smirking confidently, was enough to warm him.

Killian looked for his brother and found him a few steps ahead of them as he tried, and almost failed, to keep his balance. Despite Elsa's help, Liam didn’t seem to be having a particularly good time. He moved his free hand up and down, unable to control his body on the skates. Killian's lips curled into a smirk. It was only a matter of time before Liam fell to the ice.

After a few minutes, the self-confidence he felt was such that he dared to let go of Emma for a few seconds. She wanted to take a picture —how not?—, so she let go of his hand while looking for her phone and skated away a few steps to get a better angle. After taking a couple of photos, she came up to him again, with somewhat hesitant movements as Killian reached out and pulled her to him. He held her in his arms as they regained their balance. When they found their stability again, Emma held up her phone to take a couple of selfies of the two of them together, immortalizing the great moment they were experiencing.

"It's my turn now, Swan. Hold on there for a moment." Killian felt the need to take a picture of Emma to capture the joy they both were feeling. He skated slowly, moving away from her, took his phone out of his pocket, and took a few photos, capturing the image of Emma all excited, vibrant, and joyful.

Just as he began to approach her again, something happened that froze his heart and paralyzed him completely. Killian watched in horror as a damn reckless guy swooped past Emma at full speed, causing her to fall to the ground, her head and shoulder slamming into the icy surface.

"Emma!" A gasp escaped his throat as he staggered, suddenly feeling the damn skates as an obstacle to reaching her. When he finally got to where Emma lay on the ground, Killian knelt, his gaze traveling frantically over her face to determine her condition. "Emma, love, are you alright?" He didn’t bother to hide the worry in his voice. It was at that moment that he discovered she was bleeding through an open wound just above her left eyebrow.

Emma looked confused, but fortunately, she hadn’t lost consciousness. She tried to sit up, but a wince of pain crossed her face as she reached for her left arm. "Shit, my shoulder hurts like hell."

"Do you think you can get up, love? You're going to get frozen on that bloody ice." Killian realized that it was hard for Emma to fix her gaze, so his worry grew, his heart caught in his throat.

Liam and Elsa arrived at that moment, Elsa kneeling at his side with concern marked on her face. "What happened?" Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "We have to get her out of here, her clothes are soaking from the ice. Liam, can you help us?"

When Killian looked up at his brother, his gaze met the damn asshole that had caused the problem. He was a little away talking to a group of people, totally oblivious to what he himself had caused, laughing and having a good time. The sight of the unconcerned dude in contrast to Emma's pitiful situation was too much for him.

A sudden rage seized Killian, clouding his reason. "I'm going to kill that asshole," he mumbled as he sat up abruptly, arms on both sides of his body, his hands curled into fists and his jaw clenched. He felt an urgent need to discharge all of his fury and worry in the form of a punch to the face of that guy with the aim of erasing his stupid grin.

Just as he was moving toward the guy, something slowed him. His brother seemed to see his intentions, because he reached him in an instant, his firm grip on his arm preventing his advance and causing him to turn. "Hey, Killian, look at me."

Killian forced himself to take two deep breaths, trying to calm his inner rage. Reluctant at first, he finally looked at his brother. When Liam seemed sure of getting his attention, he began to speak in a slow voice. "Believe me, brother, I'm the first one who wants to go for the guy who's harmed Emma, but we have a priority. She needs you now."

The mere mention of Emma’s name was all he needed to come to reason again. He took a deep breath once more, trying to slow his racing heart, letting his fury fade away. Killian nodded then and knelt, taking his previous place beside Emma.

He searched her gaze for any hint of her condition. She looked back at him, but her eyes had lost all of their previous vivacity. "Emma, let's get you up. Do you think you can walk?" She nodded in silence, the corner of her lip raised slightly in an attempt of a tiny smile.

Killian's heart broke when he saw her in that state. A few minutes earlier she was full of life and now she was barely able to stay conscious. It was as if the fall had drained all her energy. Although his inner rage still persisted, he tried to put all his efforts into ensuring her well-being.

They managed to get her off the rink and reached a nearby bench. Emma had started to shiver, so he didn’t hesitate and took off his coat, something that took longer than desired since his trembling fingers refused to cooperate. He then put it over her shoulders while rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm her up.

Elsa was trying to plug the wound over her eyebrow, but this one was still bleeding and from the grimace on Emma's face it looked like her shoulder was still aching. They had to take her to the hospital.

He searched her gaze again. "Emma, love, we're going to take you to the ER, so they can check your shoulder and head, okay?"

She nodded again and finally spoke, her voice coming out as barely a murmur through a small smile. "It seems that I lost the challenge and it’s my turn to buy you all a round of drinks."

A wave of affection swept over Killian, along with an almost irrepressible desire to take her in his arms. He felt unable to hide his feelings and at that moment, he couldn't care less.

//

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think :)

What to expect in the next chapter? Just a reminder, this is not an angsty story... We'll know the consequences of Emma's accident and we'll also have the opportunity to learn a little more about both Liam and Elsa's backstory.

[ardentprose]

Cold Brew - Chapter One

Thank you so so much for your incredible patience. I fought sentence by sentence through this writer’s block. My beta reader says she loves it so I hope you guys feel it was worth the wait as well!

Warnings: Language (if more, please let me know)

Prologue

November 5th

Yoongi’s Perspective

As late November creeps in and extracts life with it, a freezing wind arrives to battle manufactured warmth. Pedestrians in search of such heat are bundled up in hoodies, noses and mouths burrowed under scarves and eyes blinking against the harsh wind. Autumn’s bolstering reds, oranges and yellows turn to muted brown leaves crushed underfoot or are the few still hanging from branches that brush forlornly at the cafe’s display windows. 

On the other side of the window, the clock ticks harmony to the melody of glass mugs clinking against wooden table tops. The barren atmosphere outside contrasts the cafe’s interior alive with patrons enjoying hot drinks and pastries. College students sit throughout the place, some lounging on couches, others chatting away at the bar, and the studious few hunch over textbooks. 

“Alright I’m done. I can’t concentrate anymore. The Hangeul is starting to look like morse code and I’m pretty sure half of this is illegible.” 

With something between a sigh and a grunt you close your handwriting book and rest your elbows on top of the cover. Yoongi finishes out his last English word, double-checking it with the textbook’s. 

“Give it to me.” 

He meets your eyes at your words, sending a wayward thought from his mind before it can distract him from your daily routine. Setting his English aside, Yoongi reaches for the coffee housed in a green ceramic mug, courtesy of the cafe’s commitment to a homey atmosphere. Slender fingers rest on the lip and slide it across to your awaiting gaze.

Ever since these coffee shop study sessions had been agreed upon, Yoongi had dedicated himself to enhancing your lackluster taste for coffee whenever the hours started to numb either one of your brains. It really wasn’t out of the blue, studying in a coffee shop and all, for him to discover you disliked coffee and ordered green tea with three spoons of sugar and two of honey on purpose. Not for the sake of your singing voice, but willingly.

He had started you off easy, sliding an iced mocha caramel latte to you on your second session. Confused at the gesture, you cautiously took the drink while Yoongi was adamant you would love it. It wasn’t bad, and you could admit that much to ease his blazing eyes boring into your expression, waiting for a positive reaction. 

The second drink had been slightly less doctored up: an iced coffee with just caramel mixed in, no whip cream or chocolate syrup. At this one, you hummed and chose your words carefully. 

“It’s good.” At this, Yoongi nodded and licked his lips. At which point you returned the drink to his all too eager eyes which lit up like a child on Christmas. 

So forth and so on the drinks Yoongi ordered got less and less sweet. The creative mixes of spices and fine grounds of the bean - according to Yoongi - made all the difference. With these, he enticed you further down the caffeinated path. 

This led Yoongi to right here, right now, in this moment. After months of coaxing you towards quality cups of joe, he was introducing perhaps the best combination of water and bean out there. His absolute favorite: a strong, ice cold brew.

He leans forward as your palms wrap around the cold mug and lift it to your lips. He licks his chapped ones, a smile already brightening his expression. 

“Good, right?” He’s even speaking English, a habit that had just started to become second-nature. 

You take a ginger sip. Your lips curl inwards and your nose twitches for an infinitesimal moment. But he catches the quick flash of disgust if only in the drop of his heart. 

“It’s bitter.” You admit as if you were confessing a sin. Your eyes flicker over Yoongi and he can see the sympathetic regret in them. He bites his tongue, forcing his expression to remain neutral and reveal nothing of his disappointment.

“It’s an americano. They’re meant to be bitter.” He explains as if it will change your mind. But you are pushing the drink back to his side. 

It shouldn’t matter, a simple cup of coffee, but it does more than Yoongi would like to admit. 

He didn’t expect you to like coffee just because he treated it as serious a hobby as his mixtapes. All those nights browsing the internet in a side tab when the beats stopped flowing from his fingertips didn’t matter. Neither did the half-hour morning bus commute scrolling through Pinterest. Yoongi was never meant to make Pinterest boards designated to specified blends of coffee anyways. It was just a time-killer. 

I do it because I’m bored. His fingers hook through the handle and pull the cup back in front of him. What did it say of him if he obsessed over coffee like the last measures of a rap verse? What did it say of his personality if the most bitter, blackest liquid tasted sweetest to him, but not to you? He wasn’t into those personality tests - like that one girl, in his economics class last semester, who tried to force him to take one. But was there something to be said of your coffee preferences? You only drink coffee when he offers the first sip of his own. Your usual tea is faithfully waiting by your elbow, ready to replace the hours of decision-making he spent the night before. Maybe he should give up. Stop trying to force you to like something you so obviously dislike. A part of him you dislike. So where does that leave himself?

“It’s just fucking coffee.” He mutters beneath his breath. 

“Hmm?” Yoongi’s cheeks heat as your eyes flash with concern. He hates that you’re studying him as if waiting for him to break down and cry like a kid. 

“You’re just weak.” He says instead, louder, and lifts the mug to his lips to take a big gulp. His brow furrows. Maybe the drink was off. His tongue runs over his teeth, collecting the aftertaste for assurance. Maybe it was brewed too strong. Or burnt. Yeah, americanos were bitter, but not this bitter. Right? 

The connoisseur in him lashes out, knowing there was not a damn thing wrong with Yoongi’s coffee.

“Am not!” You huff. “You drink that, your taste buds dead.” 

He snorts, setting the mug down on the table. 

“And don’t you dare say another word in Korean, Yoongi. This is supposed to be English time.” You warn as he opens his mouth to do just that. 

He presses his lips into a smirk and takes another sip of coffee, holding your gaze.

“Strong coffee. Weak woman.”

You scoff, but the smile playing under your attempted scowl betrays your amusement. His own statement backfires as his heart skips a beat seeing you try to hold back a laugh to spite him. 

No, she’s not his type either. She drinks green tea and that leaf juice is definitely more bitter than coffee. 

“Can I have a piece of gum at least? The taste is still in my mouth.” You swallow a few times, trying to clean your palette.

“Are you sure you can you handle it?” Yoongi replies in his native tongue just to earn another glare. He’s rewarded with another rebellious heart flip. 

She thinks americanos are disgusting. We’re too different.

“Gum. Do you have it.” You reiterate drawing him back from a downward spiral of pity. 

Yoongi sighs as if you’ve asked him to rearrange the stars in the sky. Which he would absolutely do. But search the chaos of his bag? That was the true exhausting task.

Slumping to his side, he tugs open his backpack and digs through its cavern before coming up with a crushed paper box. 

Peeling back the lid, he discovers one measly piece left. Pathetic he might be, but he can’t help smiling as he plucks it out and holds it up between his forefinger and thumb.

“You have to earn this.” He says. Your eyes widen, lips parting. He thinks you’re about to compliment how well he’s pronounced his words but instead, you narrow your eyes at the last moment. 

“Try me.” 

Damn. Yoongi falters, eyes darting over the collage of books and worksheets spread between the two of you. 

He drops the piece of gum on the table and reaches into your space to grab your Beginner’s Hangeul Handwriting book. 

“If I can read one page of this, you can have it.” 

“English, Yoongi.” You warn again as you nod to his proposition.

“I read. You fail. No gum.” He flips pass the individual character practice and splays his fingers over the most recent page. There’s a paragraph in Korean of what the words should look like. This he ignores in lieu of deciphering your handwriting scrawled over the provided lines below it. 

After just five words he looks up at you again. 

“Your English hand words more bad than mine.” 

“Your verbal English sucks worse than mine.” You shoot back. Yoongi raises an eyebrow at your tone. You hold his gaze until his eyes drop back to the book. 

His brow furrows, then he squints, holding the book further away and mumbling the words. He must admit, you have the scrawl of a kid, but it is legible. Eventually. Your characters are wide, unevenly spaced, and some lines are flying away from their pairs. It was as he said. Your English might as well have been the written form of an abstract painting. 

Even if your handwriting was mediocre, a step between terrible and acceptable, Yoongi could not help himself when it came to pissing you off.

“You take my notes in English, okay? Mine better.” He teases. You roll your eyes for what must have been the fifth time. Yoongi was going for at least ten. 

“Your notes are not wor-”

“Korean.” The word comes from his throat in a resonating base.

You stare at him so long he starts to think you may have gone catatonic. 

“You’re n-notes not good for s-study. You wr-write three word a-all.” Your cheeks flush and even if Yoongi couldn’t already tell, the stutter shows your embarrassment. He corrects you quietly, in a softer tone, before responding. 

This was the established custom between the two of you if the sentence strayed more than five words from the grammatical rules. Despite the petty argument, you’re mouthing the correction to your memory as Yoongi hands you the book back. 

“My notes...are...small...mammalistic.” Your outburst of laughter gives him a heart attack. One, for it’s loud volume disrupting the peace of the cafe. Two, for how it electrifies every nerve in his body. 

“Minimalistic?” You smirk and he hates how he loves it.

“Min...m-mal…” He rolls his eyes in defeat. 

“My notes are minimalistic. I only write what’s needed.” Humming, you begin to pack up your things and Yoongi takes the cue to do the same. 

“You only need ten words to remember the professor’s hour and a half lecture?” The jab is quickly returned with his own sharp wit.

“Genius.” Yoongi shrugs, winking when you meet his shit-eating grin. 

“Gum. Now genius.” You hold your palm out, grinning almost as widely as he is. 

Yoongi stands, sliding his packed bag over his shoulder. 

“Careful. Mint is bitter.” He tosses the piece of gum at you and sprints to the bus stop before you can kick him in the shin. And he thinks as he comes huffing the short distance to the glass sheltered bench, if being so bitter brings about this much laughter between you two, perhaps it wasn’t so bad and maybe opposites can attract. 

They must, the way you’re grinning as you approach him, despite the way he abandoned you in the cafe.

“You want one?” You uncurl your fingers and hold out a caramel candy to him. Yoongi’s fingertips brush over your palm as he accepts it and deftly unwraps the candy before popping it in his mouth. 

“Why?” He lifts an eyebrow at your beaming expression. His jaw works overtime to break down the hard caramel, drawing a look of concentration over his features. 

“In return for the gum.” You click your tongue at him, the flash of white wrapped around your pink tongue a contrast that does not go unnoticed. 

An intrusive desire, among the many he gets around you, breaks through his resolve. 

Does she taste like peppermint? What if I kiss her right now and take back that piece of gum? 

Before he can contemplate the question any further, his teeth snap the caramel in half and a horrible sensation of sour blooms in his mouth. 

“Fuck! Shit, what the fuck?” He spits the caramel candy on the pavement to the tune of your unabashed laughter. He spits twice and wipes his palm over his lips. The split caramel has a sickly yellow liquid leaking out of it’s center. 

Yoongi glances up at you and if he wasn’t so horrified at what was just in his mouth, he would have time to admire your eyes shut tight, squished cheeks, and exposed teeth cracking up at his confusion. 

“Why?!” He shouts, disregarding the older couple walking by. The older man glances between you and him with a frown.

“They-They’re from Halloween! My friend from my singing class gave me them.” You wipe your eyes, finally revealing them to Yoongi who barely has time to respond before you see his painful pout and burst into a new round of joy.

“What the hell are they?” The bitter after-taste sits on his tongue. It’s so strong he doesn’t even want to swallow. Is this how americano tasted to you? 

Americanos taste like sweet nectar compared to this ungodly taste in my mouth right now.

Was Yoongi still bitter about the coffee? Yes. But now he’s even more frustrated at how you’re still giggling at him like the cat who swallowed the canary. And looking cute as fuck doing it. 

“Hey.” He snatches your water bottle which just so happens to be dangling from your other hand and flicks the top open with his thumb.

“Yoongi!” You try to reach for your bottle, but he turns his shoulder, causing your palm to slide over his back instead. He shivers, hoping the wind picking up is enough of an excuse should you notice. 

Swallowing an extra gulp than necessary, Yoongi pulls back with an exhale and licks his lips. 

“You’re a bad girl.” He mutters. 

“Y-Yoongi, chill. It’s just a joke.” You roll your eyes, accepting your water back with shaky fingers. 

“Cold?” Yoongi asks as your fingers tremble accepting the water back. 

“No. No, I’m fine. Here comes the bus anyways.” You say, hoisting your bag up and turning to the approaching bus. Yoongi studies the back of your head at this angle. He shoves his hands in his pockets. You’re oddly silent. Did he seriously offend you by taking the water bottle? 

He tilts on to one foot, trying to catch the side of your face. Imperceptibly you turn further away. 

Yoongi chews on his lip. I didn’t mean to seriously piss her off. 

The bus rolls up, releasing a long, drawn out squeak of the breaks and hiss as the engine slows. 

“Y-you’re not really bad girl.” Yoongi offers in hopes of earning your attention again. 

“I know.” You send him a wink that steals any further response of his.

Silently, he gestures for you to get on first with an awkward nod of his head. You grace him with an even brighter smile, trudging past him. 

With one last look at the auburn sky above, he almost debates walking back to campus. Surely the winter air is good for the heart. Moreso than your quick smiles and lavender shampoo enticing him to stay near your presence.

“Yoongi, c’mon! The backseat is open!” You exclaim hitting the top of the stairs. The look of pure joy on your face does him in completely. 

“Grab it. Hurry.” He mutters, fighting the smile on his own lips, and races up the stairs behind you. 

November 12th

You were the sweetest person Yoongi had ever encountered in America. Every day he regretted the way he had cast judgement on the students around him because they had done the same to him. If it weren’t for you, Yoongi might not have ever learned how to socialize with his classmates - which was essential for group projects with pass or fail grades. It was more than school work Yoongi exposed himself too, however. Agreeing to Hoseok’s pleas to attend spirit weeks and home games was the miracle Hoseok never thought he’d see. The first time Yoongi said yes to going to a party with Hoseok, the dancer nearly choked on his can of Sprite. Hoseok was so thankful the next day that he found you on campus and bought you lunch.

Ever since you had mercifully forgiven him for his unnecessary comments, you had only continued to show the cold-shouldered boy patience. In the beginning, your sessions were rough. Yoongi knew more than he could communicate and hated practicing any words aloud. But you coaxed him out of his educational shell by mispronouncing a dozen Korean words yourself. 

Before he knew it, Yoongi was earnestly studying English any chance he could get in order to surprise you with his newfound knowledge. If it wasn’t your weekly Thursday study sessions on language, it was the conversations that took place beforehand. Not overwhelming him with rules and facts about your native land but gently guiding him when he got confused. Answering a dozen questions and nodding in agreement at the absurdities he found. Your laughter was a welcome sound to his ears, and your eyes were his reassurance when he was lost. 

Those same eyes were hidden from him now as he watched you with the most lovestruck expression a boy like him could conjure. 

You fell asleep. On your textbooks. In the cafe.

The patrons’ lively conversations around you had not been enough to keep you awake, nor the unspoken rule of taking naps in cafes. Not even the responsibility of being Yoongi’s tutor had kept your eyes open. After a measly ten minutes of chit chat you swore you were going to rest your eyes and promptly buried your face into the crook of your elbow. But Yoongi could study even when his English teacher fell asleep. He would rather you get your rest because heaven knows you escaped it each night. 

Although he was no better, yawning as he turns the page in his journal. A glance outside told him there was about fifteen minutes left. Yoongi would give you more if he could, but it would be a long walk back to campus in the night if you two didn’t make the bus. 

With a stretch that cracks a few inches of spine, Yoongi heaves a sigh and slams the textbook cover shut. He rolls his neck and clenches his fingers into fists. As he starts to put away his things and think about how he’s going to wake you up, his eyes catch the book you had used as a makeshift pillow. 

Is that Intro to Music Theory? Yoongi scans your sleeping form. Your shoulders heave in a steady, deep rhythm and your hair has been sitting on your nose for the past minute but you remain fast asleep. 

Judging the right way to go about this, Yoongi decides to do it the magician’s way. As gentle as the wind, he uses his left hand to ease your head up while his right snatches the book. Letting your head settle on the table, Yoongi holds his breath. 

You shift, whining slightly but remain asleep.  He sets the book on top of his and flicks open to the correct chapter. Picking up his pen, Yoongi sets up to do the entire assignment again. Every now and then his eyes flicker over your sleeping form, a smile lifting the edges of his lips.

 “What time is it?” Your groggy voice scares him out of his wits. 

“It’s 5:52.” He says, breathless, and drops his pen with finality.

You sit up slowly, eyes red, cheeks swollen and the indent of your sweater pressed into the left side of your face. Hair sticks to your chapped lips completing your picture of fatigue. But you couldn’t be any more adorable in Yoongi’s own weary eyes.

“Don’t worry. Bus is late.” Yoongi mutters, closing your book and sliding it back across to you. He tucks his hands under the table and massages the cramps out of his wrist. He finished in the nick of time, dotting the last period as you gave a huge yawn to signal the end of your nap. 

“Oh.” You yawn for the third time, your eyes processing slowly the image in front of you. 

Yoongi smirks, reaching over to flick your forehead. “Wake up.” 

You wince under his fingertips wrinkling your nose at him. 

“Stop.” You groan. “I am awake. You should have woken me up sooner.” 

“Drink some coffee.” He says in lieu of an excuse. There was no way he would confess you likened to an angel while you slept, your face free of stress and forehead clear of tension. Even if you did snort once or twice, Yoongi found it endearing that you trusted him enough to fall asleep in public.

“Gross.” You roll your eyes with a sleepy smile and a few strands of hair fall between your eyes. You brush them away with the back of your hand and run your finger over the table in front of you. 

Frowning you meet Yoongi’s eyes, “Why did you have my textbook?” 

Yoongi shrugs, fighting an awkward smile and looking anywhere but at your face. “I was bored.” 

“You did my homework?!” You raise your voice, causing Yoongi to glare and hush you with an index pressed to his pouting lips. 

“I need the extra practice anyways,” Yoongi says, fighting his blush with a grimace - as if that made a difference in his pink cheeks, “since my tutor fell asleep.” 

“It’s your fault for not waking me up. I told you ten mintues...not...an hour!” You mutter as you check the time on your phone. Releasing a sigh you lock the device and toss it on the table. 

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You say sincerity written in your expression. His blush deepens under your gaze.

“It’s not a big deal.” 

“It is though. You have a ton of your own homework you should be doing. I don’t want you to fail a class because of me.” The look of worry on your face twinges his heart.

“I’m not gonna fail any classes. And even if I did, college doesn’t make or break you.” 

You scoff, crossing your arms on the table and leaning over them.

 “Oh really? Then why fly across the world to come to an American college in particular?”

Yoongi draws his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes skirting the table. You laugh, deep and raspy with sleep. The sound entices his heart to thud harder, sending a renewed blush to his cheeks.

“Even s-still!” He shoots back, fighting said blush on his face and the thought of earning another laugh from you. “Grades aren’t everything and if I fail I’ll find another way to become a producer.”

“How are your classes going, by the way?” You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Are you able to write a lot of music for your assignments?” 

Sucking in through his teeth, Yoongi shakes his head. “Not really. But I write plenty on my own.” 

“Do you have a soundcloud account where I could check it out?” 

“You want to listen to my music?” The surprise is apparent in the English words earning him a look of offense.

“Of course I do, Yoongi!” 

With a twinkle in his eye, Yoongi leans across the table to meet you halfway. He tosses his head to flick the blond streaks from his eyes and levels his gaze with yours. 

“Hm. Let me listen to yours.”

“No way. You do not want to subject yourself to that.” You wince.

“Show me yours, I show you mine.” Yoongi points between you two while saying the English phrase.

Blushing, you shake your head vehemently. 

“No. Never. My voice isn’t worth listening to.” 

“What?” Yoongi blinks thinking he misheard your native tongue. “Are you kidding me?” 

“You’re one of the top students in your Vocal Ensemble class. Every music student talks about your voice. And you had to audition to get into this school in the first place. There’s no way you’re working as hard as you are for your voice to be like anyone else's.”

“You understand what they’re saying?” You ask in a soft voice to the passion spilling from Yoongi’s lips.

“Yes, and they love your voice!” Yoongi exclaims. 

“Someone’s improving in their English.” You mutter, cheeks heated, eyes lowered. 

“I know your name.” Yoongi says waiting for your gaze to meet his. 

When it does he hopes you only see sincerity in his eyes.

“C’mon. It’s time to go.” You whisper and all but shove your things into your bag. Yoongi follows behind you out the cafe just as the bus reaches its stop. 

Climbing the stairs after you he follows blindly to the usual spot you two sit each day, third row from the back. You take the window seat and Yoongi claims the aisle spot, insisting that he needed the room for his legs but knowing full well he liked being the center of your attention. 

As soon as Yoongi collapses into his seat, the fatigue of the day, as well as the extra strain of two English assignments weighs on him. Leaning forward with a guttural moan he rests his forehead against the seat in front of him. 

“Are you alright?” Your hand slips onto his shoulder with concern. Imperceptibly, he shivers. 

“M’tired.” He whispers. 

“C’mere.” Turning to look at you through his bangs, Yoongi’s eyes widen to find you tilting your head towards yourself.

“Lay on my shoulder so you don’t get a crick in your neck.” Yoongi wanted to ask what a ‘crick’ was but he could assume you didn’t want him sleeping on his neck the wrong way and earning a cramp for it. 

“Are you sure?” Still the thought of leaning on you was so intimate to him that he finds his fatigue melting away into nervousness. 

“Of course, Yoongi, it’s not a big deal.” That’s all you have to say on the matter, pulling your headphones from your backpack and sliding out your phone. If Yoongi wasn’t as tired as he was, he would have fought the idea. But the greater side of him, the side that craved every ounce of contact you gave him, won. 

Slowly and still waiting for you to cringe away or slap him, he slumps in his seat and rests his head on your shoulder. You lift your shoulder to meet his temple signaling him to rest his full weight on you. Still, Yoongi remains tense as he closes his eyes, working his jaw and wondering how in the world he would manage this bus ride. 

After a minute of contemplation, sleep falls upon him like dusk into night, erasing any further doubt from his mind.

November 19th

Cafe closed. Go to this one?

Your texting might just be cuter than your mouth actually forming the words. With your voice echoing in his head, Yoongi taps the message bar and sends back an affirmation. Then he taps on the location you’ve sent which is a block in the opposite direction from the route you two usually take from campus. 

Choosing to walk in the winter air rather than take the bus, he slips his coat on, coming back from the bedroom into the kitchen where he had been writing for his latest assignment. He grabs his textbook off the dining room table and slides it into his backpack. 

The shower head turns off in the other room and accompanying the sound of wet, padding feet, Hoseok emerges in a towel barely doing it’s job, soaking head to toe. One hand is scrubbing a toothbrush around his mouth and the other is opening a cabinet for a snack. Which is a little paradoxical if you ask Yoongi.

“Wh’re y’ goi’g?” Hoseok mumbles. 

Yoongi zips up his bag and stares at the trail of water Hoseok has left behind him. One of the first conversations he had with his roommate, Yoongi distinctly remembers, was Hoseok dictating the rules of cleanliness they would keep in their shared space. Now, only three months later, Hoseok hardly bothers with a towel as pools of water trace his way around the kitchen. 

“Coffee shop. To study.” Yoongi offers a noncommittal wave and hikes the bag onto his shoulder. A thousand-watt smile lights up Hoseok’s face. He rips the toothbrush out and drops it on the counter.

“With Y/N? To study English? How’s that going by the way?” 

“It’s going.” Yoongi answers, tugging on the heel of his sneaker. He turns away from Hoseok, hoping the exhortation of bending over counts enough for the heat on his cheeks. 

“Ah,” Hoseok releases a guttural sigh, “I’m so glad you found someone y’know?” 

What does he mean by ‘found someone’? 

The sound of a chip bag ripping open and a groan of satisfaction gives Yoongi an excuse to change the topic. 

“Are those my fuckin’ Cheetos?” Standing up straight, Yoongi narrows his eyes at his roommate who’s running his tongue over his lips, not an ounce of shame in his eyes.

“Oh?” A look of surprise crosses Hoseok’s face. He turns the bag around to face him. 

“Fucking Cheetos? I don’t think so. These are just Cheetos.” Sparkling with amusement, Hoseok levels his gaze with Yoongi’s fiery eyes. 

“Your ass is lucky I have to go, but you should sleep with one eye open tonight, Jung Hoseok.” Yoongi mutters, finger pointing at him threateningly. 

Hoseok smacks his bare chest, leaving orange dust over his freshly washed skin. “Me? Sleep? I would never.” 

Yoongi huffs, choosing to walk away before he’s late, throwing over his shoulder, “Whatever, Ho.”

“Stop calling me that!” Hoseok calls after him. Yoongi opens the door. 

“Stop eating my shit!” 

“I don’t eat your-” Yoongi slams the door shut, effectively ending the conversation with a smile on his face.

___

The moment Yoongi swings open the door of this new cafe, the pungent smell of pumpkin floods his nose. Like a punch in the face, the atmosphere is laden with heavy cinnamon and pumpkin spices provided by candles on high shelves and no doubt aided by the steady out pour of pumpkin spice lattes. 

The decorations are just as hard a blow to his eyesight. Strings of paper pumpkins are strewn across the ceiling from wall to wall creating a garish, obnoxiously orange spider web. Little men and women dressed in black hats and cut from paper are splattered on the glass walls along with what Yoongi assumes are turkeys. Every table either has a small plastic cornucopia or one of those paper ovals cut to open like an accordion. The entire scene is likened to a kid’s birthday bash of oranges, reds and yellows in various objects. 

Trying to conceal his gag reflex - the pumpkin is really strong - Yoongi shuffles in surveying the room for a spot to study. It’s fairly larger than his cafe and so is the late afternoon crowd filling out the space. 

There’s one table among all the scenery blending into one another - a small circular piece that Yoongi can see from here is slanted. It’s shoved into the corner as if in punishment from the rest of the functioning tables. But, it’s the only one available, so he walks towards it and claims one chair with his backpack. Per usual, he is the first one to arrive. 

After setting up his English materials he pulls out his journal to rest on top of the textbook and flips open to where he left off. 

This cafe is fuckin’ loud. Yoongi notes with distaste. There’s a TV hooked in the corner of the room and a group of rowdy college football fans cheering in victory. Despite their clear disregard for social niceties, they are not the only main distraction and therefore no one is telling them to respect the peace. 

A short distance behind where the group is gathered on couches are a crowding of tables and here sits a chattering group of women in their mid-to-late thirties having some kind of tea party that requires obnoxious laughter every five minutes. 

Yoongi pauses the note he was carving into the paper, glancing across the room at the way one woman continues to slam her mug on the table in the most un-ladylike way. It’s not that he has a problem with women being loud, it’s just what he knew from tea parties...weren’t they supposed to be quiet? 

His attention is drawn from the boisterous women and the rowdy fans to the third section, to his left, where most of the average patrons sit. Among the normal chatter and clinking of glassware, Yoongi catches one couple sharing enough kisses to qualify as a make-out session. Swallowing back his disgust he quickly drops his stare back to his page, his eyes scanning for where he left off. 

It feels like ten more painful minutes drag on before you collapse into the seat across from him, panting with flushed cheeks. Yoongi is ready to scold you as he finishes off the last measure but as his eyes catch the beam on your face and the excited glimmer in your eyes, he finds his mouth hanging open in silence. 

“Hey! Isn’t this place amazing!” You exclaim, those wide shimmering eyes of yours looking all around you at the decorations. Yoongi bites his first response into the bottom of his lip, not wanting to risk your wrath for immediately shooting you down.

“It���s...popular.” Are the words he finally settles with. 

“Why are you late this time?” 

“Oh sorry, I was helping Taehyung and Jimin - they’re from my Vocal Ensemble class - work on their upcoming solos.” You explain all this while setting up your things, tossing your book haphazardly onto the already unstable top. Yoongi grips its edges, hoping the weight of two textbooks won’t topple the entire thing over. 

But if the table breaks, we can always go somewhere else to study… Yoongi reasons. The cafe is bustling at full capacity. There was no way you could find another table in time before one of the standing patrons snatched it away. 

“Jimin was actually the one who recommended this place.” You say, finally settling down with a friendly smile shot his way. “I’m so glad he did! I love how they decorated for the season.” 

So are you tutoring the entire Korean community now? 

Yoongi pushes the spiteful thought away, knowing you were just a sweetheart who loved helping anyone, regardless of their English abilities. Then again, he also knew Taehyung and Jimin. They were the top singers in both their ranges and had done solos on repeated occasions. So there was no way your guidance to them should have taken over half an hour thereby cutting into his time with you. 

“Ready to begin? Tell me what you see around you in English.” You say, moving on to the lesson without allowing him to respond. 

Yoongi blinks, catching up in reality from his jealous thoughts and gazes around the cafe. The place had so many colors going on it was hard to pick out any one item. However the most eye-catching decoration was the birds on the windows which puzzled Yoongi. 

“Birds.” He starts out, leaning back in his chair and gazing at one near his shoulder. You nod encouragingly. 

“Turkeys, yes.” 

“Tur-keys.” Yoongi tests out the word before frowning. 

“Turkeys are birds for the season?” 

“Hm? Yeah, for Thanksgiving.” You say while you scribble down notes. 

“Why?” 

“Why? I don’t know. It’s just what we eat on Thanksgiving.” 

“Sanks-Than-ski-bing.” Yoong grits his teeth trying to focus on the words forming in his mouth correctly. 

“Thanks.” You offer, nodding for him to repeat after you. “Give-ing. Thanksgiving.” 

“Thanksgiving. What is it?” Asking that question was the most native English Yoongi sounded. 

“Wait...You don’t know what Thanksgiving is?” You question, your eyebrows raising in disbelief. Before Yoongi can answer the obvious you smack your forehead, taking him off guard. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Don’t answer that! Of course you don’t know about Thanksgiving.” You say at the same time as Yoongi leans forward, almost touching your pink forehead before he catches himself. 

“Thanksgiving is an American holiday where families come together and remember what we’re thankful for.” You explain as Yoongi nods.

 He rests his elbows on the table, leaning on his folded hands. “A holiday for thankfulness?” He asks. 

“Mmhm. But you knew this already because we’re going on break next week.” 

The resounding silence at your table rivals that of the cacophony around you. 

“Yoongi...we’re going on break next week.” You say slowly. Yoongi breaths in through his nostrils, cracking his stony facade with a twitch of his eyebrow.

“We’re going on break.” 

“Yes. We are.”

“Shit.” Yoongi groans, sliding his palms over his face. 

“What? What’s the matter?” You ask, leaning over to grasp his forearm. Yoongi whips his head up, your fingers like fire dancing over his skin. He doesn’t move a muscle, hoping to keep your ginger touch there as long as possible. 

“I’m in the middle of my project. Why do we have to take unnecessary breaks? Just to say thank you? Can’t we do that after school hours? I’m thankful I’m in college working my ass off. Why are they taking it away from me?” Yoongi gushes in a heated rush. 

You frown processing the rushed Korean slower until you burst into giggles. 

“Yoongi! Don’t be bitter.” You smack his arm lightly. He hides his blush against his hands and peers at you between his knuckles. 

“Thanksgiving is important too. We have to learn to stop every now and then to rest. Plus, you have an excuse to eat like a pig.” 

“Pig? Me?” 

“No, not you, you! I mean everyone. Even me.” You say before rolling your eyes with a chuckle. “Especially me.” 

Yoongi quirks his eyebrow at you. “You? No way.” 

“Hey. Shut up.” You shake your head, but Yoongi follows your bashful smile with his own teasing one. “But no, you should come home with me to my family’s Thanksgiving. My mom makes insane mashed potatoes.” 

“Hmm.” Yoongi pretends to debate it for the sake of not looking like the desperate fool he is, following you off a cliff if you asked him to.

“I’ll go. Show me your Thanksgiving.” 

“Great! I’ll text my parents right now and let them know you’re coming. My mom and dad will be so excited to meet you.” 

Mom? Dad? It wasn’t as if he was your boyfriend or anything but if Yoongi didn’t pass as just a friend, there was no chance in hell your father would ever let him be more. 

Looks like I did agree to jump off that cliff.

Shit.

[mmemiraculous]

Berry Boys Chapter 3

First Gig

Tags: @shadowberrybinch

“Crap, I’ve got to get my fountain pen.” Marc got up to retrieve his pen from his room. “Do you want a snack?” He asked the bluenette on the couch.

“I’m ok.” She replied.

Marinette was at Marc’s house this Saturday. They were watching movies, and chatting. Marc had called her over when he felt way to bored home alone. He’d gone to his room to get his fountain pen because Marinette had said she wanted to make a cheesy love poem for her girlfriend. Marc chose to use the fountain pen because it made the words look fancy.

“Hey Marc, who’s ‘Blueberry Guitarist’?” Marinette asked from the living room

Marc’s eyes widened as he ran back to the couch, pen in hand. “D-don’t worry about it.” Marc snatched his phone out of Marinette’s hands.

“Wait— is it Luka? Did you text him?” Marinette’s eyes lit up.

“I-I maybe- don’t worry about it, I said.” Marc stuttered, his face was flushed in embarrassment. It was Luka texting him, but he wanted to tell her himself to avoid embarrassment.

“I’m sorry for teasing.” She apologized.

“No, no your fine.” Marc assured her, “and yes it is him.” He said quietly.

“What did he say?”

Blueberry Guitarist: Hey!

I got a small gig at a coffee shop

Tomorrow a friend of mine is

Going to sing while I play

You can come if you

want to.

We can also hang out later too

“He asked me to hang out.” Marc said sinking into the couch cushions.

Bluenette squealed and clapped her hands. “It’s totally a date!”

“I-It’s not a date!” Marc stuttered. “He just said hanging out. I don’t think it could be any clearer.”

“Ok, ok whatever you say.” She put her hands.

Marc put his phone down and put his focus back on the movie..

“Blackberry?”

“Yea?” Marc faced her.

“Are you gonna answer?” She chuckled softly.

“OH, Right!”

Whipping his phone out he sent the reply quick

You: yeah, sure!

I can hangout after as well

The reply back was immediate:

Blueberry Guitarist: Great! Hears the

[address] I’ll see you there!

Tomorrow was going to be a great day, Marc thought as he sank back into the couch.

“What about the poem?” Marinette reminded.

“Oh yeah,” he took his pen and a blank sheet of paper off of the coffee table. “How do you want to start this?”

“What about, “your cinnamon brown eyes give me strength to get through the day.””

Marc sighed, this is going to be a long day.

After 2 bowls of popcorn, 2 movies, and 1 very, very, cheesy love poem later, Marinette went home. 30 minutes after her leave, Marc’s mom was back home.

“Hey sweetie, how was your day?” She asked when she walked into the apartment. She hung up her coat and put her keys on the hook next to it.

“It was fine. Mari came over and we watched movies.” The next part rushed out of his mouth: “someonealsoaskedmetohangoutwiththemialreadysaidyesbutanIgo?“

His mom stared dumbfounded. “First of all, how can that many words come out of your mouth so fast? Second, what did you say?”

Marc sighed, he’d been doing a lot of that today. “I said, someone also asked me to hang out with them i already said yes but can I go?” The writer explained slower.

“Oh really?” She smirked.

“It’s just hanging out!”

“Go ahead sweetheart. You already said yes anyways.” The writer’s mom said with a smile on her face.

Yes! Tomorrow plans are confirmed. He felt that his mom would say yes regardless, as long as they weren’t doing anything together tomorrow. Daniella Anciel was just like that. Always bringing joy to anyone around, doing anything and everything for her family.

“So, What do you want for dinner?” She said when she made her way to the kitchen.

___________

Sunday morning, Marc’s anxiety level felt like it went through the roof. Today was the day he’d go out with Luka. No. It’s not a date. They’re just hanging out after Luka’s gig.

The guitarist told him that he’d they would start at 3:00pm. So Marc decided to get there at 2. Just Incase of course.

“Be safe! Make sure to lock the door when you leave and call me if anything is wrong.” His mom told him on her way out the door. “I love you!” She waved as she closed the door, he waved back and locked the door.

4 hours until he had to leave, how should he pass the time? He could write, Marc still didn’t have an exact idea for his short story. The deadline was in one month, so he couldn’t procrastinate for too long. It wasn’t that he had nothing to write. It was that he had way to many options. Maybe this is how Nathaniel felt when he let him go. But could Marc having all of these really stressed Nath out that much that he really had to let him go?

Anyways, he’s got to stop thinking about that. It always drives him down a spiral when that topic gets in his head. For now he can just write. So Marc decided to expand on one of the many prompts he had.

___________

4 hours. He has been writing for 4 and a half hours. HOW?! Marc had told himself that he’d be out of the apartment by 2. It’s 2:32.

Grabbing his keys and journal, Marc raced out of the apartment, almost forgetting to lock the door on his way out. With how fast he was running Marc was surprised that he didn’t get hit by a car.

At last he finally got to the cafe. He opened the door and a few things caught his eye; Luka had an acoustic guitar instead of the one he saw him with the first time he met him, Marinette and Kagami were sitting at a table, and the clock said 2:45. He ran for 13 minutes? Marc made his way to his friends.

“Why are you sweaty?” Kagami asked. “Did you run all the way over here.”

“M-maybe” Marc stuttered. Is it that obvious? He was still out of breath, maybe it was that obvious. “What are you two doing here?”

“We wanted to be here for Luka’s first solo gig.”

“Oh, ok.” Marc just thought it would just be him and Luka after he played.

Marc went up to the counter and ordered tea. 15 minutes later Luka and a girl he didn’t know went up to the small area that had a microphones, two speakers, and two stools.

The girl had brown skin and short curly black hair. She wore a purple leather jacket with a jagged stone crop top and blue high waisted Jeans. Frick she’s pretty.

“Hello everyone, my name is Angeline Johnson,” the girl introduced herself, then gestured to the guitarist. “And this is Luka Couffain, we’ll be playing a song named’’ fire drill.”

Luka started playing a few notes, and then Angeline started singing. Her voice was really nice, but that’s not what Marc was focusing on Luka. He looked in his element, so calm and content, and he was really good at playing. Luka made the entire vibe of the cafe so calm. A big surprise of the entire thing was when Luka started singing the second verse. Marc didn’t know if he could be more impressed than he already was, Luka was just that skilled apparently. What really tied the rest of the song together was when Luka and Angeline sang the break together. They sounded like their voices were made for each other.

At the end of the end of the song the entire cafe gave a big applause and the two singers said there thanks. They hugged each other and went their separate ways.

Luka picked up his guitar and walked over to the three. “Hey guys. Thanks for coming.”

“No problem, we wouldn’t want to miss this.” Marinette said.

Luka turned to the writer. “Hey Marc.” He smiled at him. God damn, he can’t let him move on from his other crush huh?

“Hey,” Marc said back. “You were really good. So was Angeline of course. But um, I didn’t know you were going to sing as well.”

“It was Angeline’s idea.”

“Well, it was a good idea.” What came out of Marinette’s mouth next was unnecessary. “So, are you and Angeline seeing each other or…?” Marc almost choked on his tea.

“What? No!” Luka shook his head fast. “Of course not! Angeline’s with someone and I don’t see her in that way.” That relieved Marc. Should that relieve him? Is he be allowed to be relieved by that. “Anyways can we please change the topic now?”

“Sure.”

“So what are you guys doing next week?” Kagami asked, the question aimed at Marc and Luka. Both explained that they didn’t have much going on besides school work.

“You should join us on our group hangout at the ice rink. It will be us two with Alya and Nino on Friday.”

“I’m free.” Said Luka.

“I’d have to ask my mom first, but I’m probably free.”

“Great we’ll see you two there.” They started packing up their stuff. Both said their goodbyes to the boys and took their leave.

“Thanks for coming again.”

“I-I’m glad I’m here. You two were really good.” Marc smiled.

“Thank you, really. So Mari told me that you’re entering a contest?” With that question Marc launched into conversation, not stuttering like he has been when he talked with Luka, talking about writing did that to him. It was also sweet with how Luka was apparently interested with what he was talking about.

After he finished rambling about himself he decided to ask about Luka. He told Marc about himself. Told him about from him living on a boat to his dreams about playing music for big crowds. Frick. Luka is really cool. It’s only been two weeks since he’s gotten over Nathaniel, should he really be liking someone already?

After their conversation, at 4 o’clock, Marc had to leave unfortunately. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah”

Both stood not knowing what to do next. So they both went for a hug instead, which surprised them both that they had the idea at the same time.

“So, um, bye.” Marc said, with a shy wave.

“See you.” Luka smiled.

Marc left the cafe feeling really good about Friday.

[arxaris]

More DJ!Bakugou AU

My first kofi comm is from @xxracheyxx​ who requested more of this AU, so I decided to write the scene where Bakugou officially unveils the song ‘Remedy’ after they’ve been dating for a few months. Thanks again for the kofis <3

(Actual song is Remedy by Alesso)

Warning: rated M for recreational drug use

Click here for more info about ko-fi drabble commissions

“Admit it,” Bakugou said, watching Kirishima pass out pills to his friends like candy. “You’re only dating me so you and these fuckers don’t have to tape this stuff to your junk to get it inside anymore.”

Kirishima barked out a laugh, gulping water to swallow down his own. 

“That’s not true!” He exclaimed, wiping his mouth on the back of his forearm. “Though I’ll admit to that being a happy perk of the job, yeah.”

Bakugou hummed as Kirishima leaned back against him again. He would never admit it out loud, but having people to hang out with before his shows wasn’t... awful. Kirishima’s friends had accepted him and his bad attitude as easily as Kirishima himself, and they’d dropped any celebrity treatment towards him within about thirty minutes of meeting him for the first time. He complained about it constantly to Kirishima, but he didn’t completely hate that Kaminari had started sending him stupid memes, or that Mina would all but force him to braid her hair every time he came over to their apartment, or that Sero was always pushing his cooking school experiments on him like he was just another member of the group.

No, having friends of his own wasn’t awful, he supposed.

In fact, it was kind of... nice. 

But god, he could never, ever let those idiots find that out. They’d never let him live it down. 

“Come on, guys, lets get out there!” Mina said some thirty minutes later. “I want this to hit before Bakugou comes on!”

Kirishima glanced at his watch. “Ah, yeah, you’re probably right.” 

He leaned in to give Bakugou a goodbye kiss. Not ten seconds later, Bakugou felt him being tugged away. He grumbled against his lips, but let him go.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” Kirishima laughed, and even though their kiss had been cut short, it was hard for Bakugou to stay annoyed when he was smiling that way. Bakugou squeezed his hand, and Kirishima turned back to him. “Good luck out there, sweetheart,” he said softly.

Bakugou flushed at the pet name and pushed lightly against his chest to get him moving out of his dressing room. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t need any damn luck.”

Kirishima pecked him on the cheek and flashed him one last grin, and then they were off to join the crowd for Bakugou’s set.

And if Bakugou allowed himself a small smile once they were gone, that was his own business.

* * *

Bakugou’s eyes darted down to the front row of people squished up against the stage, gravitating immediately to fiery red hair and a heart stopping smile. A year ago he would’ve told you it was impossible, but Kirishima was gazing up at him with even more love in his expression than he had that very first night. Bakugou returned his grin with a soft quirk of his lips as his song closed out.

Raising the mic to his mouth, he introduced his next piece. Simply because he didn’t know what to do with his free hand while he spoke, he fidgeted with his flat bill cap until it was facing backwards. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get much better at this part. Talking was more of Kirishima’s thing.

“This new one’s called Remedy, n’ it got me a boyfriend so I don’t think it sucks too much,” he paused for the inevitable excited whispering of the crowd, watching Kirishima dramatically bury his face in his hands as his friends - their friends - teased him. “Hope ya like it,” he finished. He allowed the vocals to start.

The crowd seemed instantly taken with the song, just as Kirishima had promised they would be. The softer beats of the opening verses meant they weren’t jumping as much as they were simply swaying as one, all out of time and bumping shoulders with smiles on their faces. He could tell who was flying by the way they clutched emotionally at their chests. Kirishima and his friends definitely fell into that group.

Bakugou watched him with a soft smile on his face as he did little tricks with the soundboard to widen his boyfriend’s grin. He saw rather than heard the happy laughter bubbling up from Kirishima’s throat, so he mouthed the words of the song at him to keep it going. It worked better than he could’ve hoped, and soon Kirishima was in a fit of ecstatic giggles, having to be held up by his friends, who were laughing along with him. Bakugou felt his heart melting.

He knew that Kirishima wasn’t laughing because anything was particularly funny.

He was laughing because he was just that carefree, that emotional, that happy.

He was just that in love.

Or, at least, Bakugou hoped he was.

I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe

That loneliness is my disease

The crowd had caught onto the chorus and was singing it up to him, but for all Bakugou knew there was only one other person in the room, who had long since learned every word to the song. Bakugou couldn’t hear his voice, but he watched his mouth move as he belted it out without a hint of inhibition.

I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe 

That you are the remedy

Less than a year ago, Bakugou thought he could never be happy again. Everything seemed to always be spiraling, spiraling, spiraling, out of his hands and out of his control, conspiring to keep him in the dark, tight clutches of misery’s hold. 

Except in Osaka.

Never in Osaka, where his personal sunshine had waited and waited and waited for him to be ready, unknowingly offering support through bright, dilated eyes and absolutely atrocious dancing. 

Never in Osaka, where, when he had finally recovered enough to offer a bit of himself in return, Bakugou had swallowed his fears and called out to him. 

Never in Osaka, where Kirishima stood now, listening to the first official unveiling of a song written for him, all big smiles and wet eyes.

‘Are you crying?!’ Bakugou mouthed, shaking his head in amusement.

‘Shut up!’ Kirishima mouthed back as he wiped his eyes, his grin never fading.

I believe, I believe, I believe, I believe 

That you are the remedy

That you are the remedy

Bakugou’s heart swelled in his chest as the song began to fade. 

‘Hey, Shitty Hair,’ he mouthed, and Kirishima tilted his head in exaggerated question. Bakugou smirked and raised his hands.

‘I love you,’ he signed. 

They hadn’t said, or signed, the words yet, but Bakugou had known all along how he felt, before he had even really met him.

He watched Kirishima process the sign, slightly delayed, before his eyes shot wide. Bakugou grinned at the raw emotion on his face, all his filters long since suppressed by the drug. He cursed, not under his breath, but rather in a loud, laughing shout drowned out by the music. Bakugou couldn’t help but laugh.

He still had a long way to go before he could truly say he had recovered from the events of the past year, that much was certain. However, watching his bright, beautiful guiding light raise his hands and sign, ‘I love you, too,’ filled him hope that anything was possible.

[nobodyeverasked]

heathers; lee minho

(1731 words) - small

Summary: The shell of shyness can be melted by a warm hand.

Boisterous echoes of heavy, hip-hop music soaked the room, the bridges and verses etching themselves into Y/N’s head as he watched one of his friends, Lee Minho, practicing his freestyle dance. He moved with so much energy and accuracy, his breaths steady even through the blades of his sharp movements. All Y/N could do was sit in awe next to another friend of his, Jisung, while Minho’s body harmonized with the music.

As long as Y/N has been friends with the two boys in this room, he has never been able to fathom Minho’s dancing. Just how he was able to amalgamate with anything that boomed through the speakers, and how his fingers weaved in between the embers of his own grace so easily baffled him.

Sparks of admiration writhed wildly in Y/N’s eyes, his gaze falling over the sweat-soaked T-shirt that clung to Minho’s body. His breaths pulsed through the tepid air of the practice room as Jisung and Y/N stood up to get ready to go for their lunch.

Jisung kept his eyes on Y/N, how the flames of sheepishness singed his friend’s cheeks with the scarlet glow of shyness, and how his eyes darted across the pine floors. He has never noticed how the delicate cinders of bashfulness seemed to always coil around Y/N’s shaking breaths. It made the gears in his head turn with the inquisitive currents that soared through his mind.

“Imma get changed, I’ll be back soon…” Minho absentmindedly threaded a hand through Y/N’s hair, his tired smile catching Y/N’s gaze from off the floor in an instant.

“O-okay…” Y/N’s words tripped over themselves and tangled between his lips, his voice crushed by the shimmers of joy that always lingered in the older boy’s eyes. Minho nodded to them before exiting the room in a sweaty trudge, unknowing of the fires of joy and compassion that spread through his fingertips and intertwined with the younger’s hair. Even the way Minho’s cheeks glistened with a passionate glow, and how his voice was riddled with the arias of delight made Y/N melt, his icy breaths of self-assurance dissipating in Minho’s austral presence. 

“Oh. My. GOD!” Jisung’s widened with the sparks of realization, his voice rising with the arias of joy and hilarity. “You like him!” Y/N’s gaze snapped to his friend’s, the echoes of Jisung’s words pounding at the black door that Minho shuffled through just minutes ago. 

“Shut up!” Y/N slapped a hand over Jisung’s parted lips. His blush grew deeper, the scarlet fangs of embarrassment biting into his neck and sinking deeper into his skin. 

“Sorry…” Jisung’s voice died down to a hollow whisper, his fingers squeezing Y/N’s shoulder as he beamed with a radiant smile, his eyes littered with shimmers elation. He never thought of his two best friends being together, but with that possibility skipping through his mind, he has never been happier. “You like him?”

Y/N sat down quietly, his gaze suspended longingly to the ceiling. “Yeah…” He took a deep breath, his head collapsing in his shaking hands as he could feel the ashes of doubt scatter across his back and claw down his spine. “There’s no way, though…” 

“Yes, there is, just go for it!” Jisung sat down next to him, his arms draping over Y/N’s shoulders. “C’mon! He’s totally you’re type and I can see it!” His voice rang with the chimes of optimism. A smile still pulling at his lips. His embrace grew tighter, the flames of comfort spiraling around them and littering Y/N’s stare - wilted with self-doubt - with the sparks of hope. 

“Really…? Do you really think I have a chance?” Y/N leaned into the alleviating touch that grew heavier on his body, Jisung’s tranquil embrace scratching a small simper onto his worried frown. 

“Of course you do!” Jisung pulled down on Y/N’s chest, leading his head to his lap. His agile fingers - surging with the embers of confidence and blazing loyalty - twisting stray locks of the younger boy’s hair. He smiled as he could feel the tension relax in Y/N’s shoulders, a candle-light of confidence withstanding the rainstorms of his own mistrust.

“He’s just so talented, he’s such a good dancer and singer. He’s so beautiful and so so so perfect! I-I’m not…” Y/N let his gaze wander to the windows of the practice room, his eyes tracing the slivers of sunlight brushing against their floors and skipping stones of radiance across the scarlet walls.

“Shut the hell up! You’re sweet and inviting, and I can tell he likes your smile. You helped us compose 42, remember? Plus, even if you weren’t, Minho wouldn’t care.” Jisung tapped his palms on Y/N’s chest as he spoke, his eyes following the wisps of ivory clouds brushing against the afternoon sky. He felt a sigh breach the air, the embers of compassion convulsing to their breaths as Y/N raised his eyes to Jisung’s. “I’m being serious!” The older widened his eyes when their gazes locked together, his hands whipping up in surrender.

“Thanks, Sung, but I don’t wanna lose him… What if he says no?” Y/N sat up from Jisung’s lap, a hum escaping his lips as his fingers untangled from his hair. “Jisung-” The younger instantly started to panic, words of confession that linger on the tip of his tongue tasting sour. The thoughts of dancing with Minho in the practice room like they always did, and his friendly touches that scorched Y/N’s skin decaying in the windstorm of uncertainty.

“You need to go for it, tell him how you feel-” Jisung’s words were cut off by the sound of a closing door and a tired groan, the echoes of Minho’s steps rippling across the floors drowning out any thoughts that Y/N had of what he was going to say.

“Tell who what?” Minho scratched his head, a crisp, white sweater sheathing his hands as he stood in front of Jisung and Y/N, his eyes half-sheathed and a tired yawn bursting through his lips. His eyes annexed between the two boys when the currents of tension and awkwardness lumbered through the room, their gazes wandering across the room and running over everything except for Minho. “Oh~, does someone have a crush?” Minho cocked his head to the side, a cocky smirk weaving onto his mouth.

“Uh….” Y/N’s mind went absolutely blank, his mouth hung open by the weights of bewilderment, his thoughts running rampant to find something to say. “Yeah! No! I mean- ungh…” Y/N dragged his hand down his face, his eyes rolling at his own emotional ineptitude.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a bit.” Jisung heaved himself up from the ground, patting Y/N on his shrugged shoulder before slipping through the door with a playful wink, his smirk lighting Y/N’s cheeks ablaze with the scarlet hellfires of worry. All he could do was look ahead at Minho who blankly stared back at him, their gazes seized in a whirlwind of tension.

“Minho…?” Y/N let his worried stare drift back to the floor, his hands shifting stiffly behind his back.

“Yeah, sup?” Minho tried to hide his distaste for the haunting silence drifting between them, the harmonies of Y/N’s laughs and his casual conversations that tumbled amply through his lips being all the older boy could think about. He wanted the radiance of happiness that dwindled in Y/N’s heart to shine through the thunderclouds of his vivid dismay spiraling around them. Taking a step closer to his best friend, he could hear the shakiness in Y/N’s breaths and the deep thought that lurked in his wondrous eyes.

“I… I like you… A lot…” The younger shook his head as he just let the words out. “ It’s just the way you make me feel a little more special. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I mean, you’re so talented and beautiful and amazing and-”

“Shhh~” Minho pressed his finger to Y/N’s trembling lips, making the parade of words that left his mouth instantly stop, and the shivers of worry that crawled down his spine dispel from his tense body. “I like you too, you’re so nice and inviting, and your smile is literally everything. You’re so handsome and I love hearing you talk.” With every aspect that Minho listed, he took a step closer, until their breaths entwined and their gazes were seized within one another’. All the younger could do was stare in surprise, the sparks of ardency that floated around in the older’s eyes kindling embers on his skin that felt so foreign.

“R-really…?” Y/N could not believe what he was hearing, the boy he has liked for so long, harbouring the same feelings for him?

He loved how Minho’s fingers felt against his lips and how his delicate hands stroked the side of his neck. He barely paid attention to the searing scarlet creeping onto his cheeks, Minho’s laugh overflowing the room with smooth tides of pleasure and joy.

“Yeah, Y/N, I like you too, a lot.” Minho’s hands nursed the skin of Y/N’s neck as he caresses trailed down to his forearm, and to his fingertips, sparks igniting between their gazes and their grazing touches. Cinders of admiration lit up and took flight around them, a blistering heat zealous ardor intertwining with their breaths and dancing in the sunlight glazing the room. “I know we’re going to lunch with the three of us right now, but how about we hang out a little later tonight? Just you and me? I heard there’s a cafe opening down the street and apparently, everybody’s talking about it.”

“That sounds amazing.” Y/N finally let a smile - shining with relief - burst through his fearful pout, the air growing heavy and thick with the tepid flames of passion whipping around them.

“Great.” Minho cupped Y/N’s cheek, interweaving their lips in a velvety knot of blooming amity, the heat rising between their pressed chests and crawling up their necks. “Now, let’s get going,” Minho let his thumb wander across the back of the younger’s hand as he clutched it softly, his lips - bursting with passionate sparks - gliding across Y/N’s knuckles. “Who knows how long Jisung’s been waiting.”

[chwesolai]

cafe girl, grocery boy | ch.9

falling for you

[masterlist]

taglist @xumingh0e​ (can’t tag @jaybeenow)

“I don’t get it.” “Get what?” “You.” He laughs, “What are you on about now?” “You make me feel all-” “Soft? Gushy?” “Never say gushy around me again,” he laughs once more, “but yeah. You make me feel something I’ve never felt before.” “Well, I can say the same thing.” She stops dead in her tracks, turning around facing him. The silence was deadly yet the two were locked in place. And then-

CHAPTER SONG: falling for you by SEVENTEEN’s Joshua & Jeonghan

here we go (SUPER FLUFFY) also apologies for the late update :(

-Y/n-

“So, you driving or I’m driving?” Seungcheol asks as we finally make it to the parking lot, as I catch my breath for a second, “Oh! OH! Y/n, I didn’t-”

Lunging over the side of my car, heaving like a dog (i hate out of shape self), “N-n-no! I-I’m fine” I nervously laugh and swallow my breath as I stand up straight, “I’ll drive.” 

“Alright! And still, are you sure you’re ok, didn’t mean to knock the wind out of you,” he sadly smiles, he feels bad dont make him feel bad y/n.

“Choi Seungcheol, I. Am. Fine,” I smile at him, “this just shows I need a personal trainer,” he smiles back at me. “I’ll hold you on that, Ms. y/n,” Seungcheol laughs as we both get into my car, please his laugh is so cute im-

“Show me the way, Mr. Seungcheol.” “Yes, of course, Ms. Y/n.” “You’re a dork,” I laugh as I start my car, “Lets go!”

-Seungcheol-

She’s so pretty, I can’t believe this is happening. “And you’re going to take a right on this next light.”

“You got it!” She nods as she begins to hum along to the song playing off her stereo, a playlist called in the clouds was playing. 

“What song is this?”

“Oh!” She didn’t even realized she was singing, my heart, “life hack by vaundy! I’ve been on this Japanese indie craze for a bit, I blame Chan, he’s always playing it in the shop,” She looks over at me, nodding my head to the music,  “You can cue up a song if you want!” I look over to her phone and she laughs, “you can do it on the screen, Seungcheol.”

Idiot. “Oh! Oh ok!” I reach over to the screen and begin typing as y/n’s car swerves a hard left.

“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY DOING!” Y/n screams as she continues to turn, causing us to both do a hard lean to the left, leaving me a few inches away from y/n, why is she so pretty, I’m- “Seungcheol! I am so sorry I don’t know- oh! hello,” She gets to a stoplight and turns her head to see me so close to her.

“I-i-i I’m so sorry,” I lean away fast as I feel the blood rush to flood my cheeks, “The car just- and I was picking a song and- yeah”

“You’re so cute Cheol,” I look at her as I hear that nickname come out of her mouth. Her smile slowly starts to fade, no I like the nickname I like when you say it, “Sorry! I didn’t know if it was ok with you to call you that I know Jihoon calls you that and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call you Co-”

Coups. Never call me that, Y/n. “I like hearing you call me Cheol,” I reassure y/n since she wasn’t looking at the road and at me in panic, “Now, you’re going to miss your turn missy.”

Her smile returns and I resume queuing my song up, One and Only You by GOT7, “Would not have taken you as a kpop fan, Mr Seungcheol,” y/n says in shock as she reads the song title I typed in.

“Ah, yeah. It’s my guilty pleasure.” I just laugh to make it seem less awkward that I just admitted I like kpop to her. “I love this group! I saw GOT7 last summer with my friends,” she laughs, “Glad I know you have taste.” We both laugh as the song begins to play. 

Wow, her singing voice is even pretty, do I show that I can rap these verses? yes, yes I am. 

“OK CHEOL!” She gasps in excitement as I begin to rap along with the song, “THAT WAS SO GOOD WHAT” She glaces over at with the biggest smile ever, “I’m so inviting you to karaoke night now.”

I just laugh in response of her excitement, “the place is on your right, y/n.”

“Hm,” she nods, still smiling like crazy. This night is going so well already.

-Y/n-

That car ride was better than half the dates I’ve been on in the past year. 

I park my car in front of what looks like a fried chicken restaurant, “Ok, the owners are family friends, my parents helped them buy this place. They opened like two weeks ago, so, beware of loud screaming when we go in.” Cheol turns to me before I took off my seat belt, wow his eyes are so- FOCUS Y/N

I smile, “trust me, I know this feeling all too well, imagine trying to go eat barbecue with your best friends and the servers keep calling ‘unnie’ because apparently, your mom is their talent agent.” We both just laugh at this odd similarity we share and continued to talk about all these odd places where, apparently, our parents know the owners and we just have to smile and wave and then our conversation was rudely interrupted by my stomach growling, out. loud.

“I think we should head in,” Cheol just sweetly smiles at me, “prepare for the hyenas.” I shake my head, smiling as we both exit my car. 

Seoul was slowly lighting up for the night, when was the last time I went out on a date, this nice. “I know, this city is beautiful.” My thoughts interrupted by Seungcheol looking at me, smiling, “Moving here was the best decision I think I ever made.”

“I’d have to agree with you,” I look back at him and then go out and extend my hand. Oh god, its too early to this, you’re an idiot y/n why did- OH MY GOD HE’S HOLDING YOUR HAND MY HAND OUR FINGERS ARE INTERLOCKED OH WE”RE WALKING IN NOW OK STOP Y/N BREATHE. Cheol pushes the door open and a little bell chimes and then-

“Hi, welcome to- CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!” A host greets us, loudly, as we enter the doors, “What do I have the honor of having you dine in tonight?”

Cheol just dry-laughs, this guy is so kissing up to him right now, “Hi Hye-jeon, I’m just eating with someone, can we have the upstairs table please?” 

“Of course, for 2?”

Seungcheol nods and we walk up a spiral staircase to see a sea of tables and booths, this place is FULL of just university students, “The end booth please.”

“Of course, your waitress will be right out with you guys.” Hye-jeon places our menus and water pitcher with cups and leaves us to sit down.

“So, he’s something.” I nod my head as he walks away. Cheol just laughs as he pours us both water and then hands me my cup, “thank you.”

“Of course and him. He’s trying to be part of my parents’ business and thinks being my “friend” will help him but honestly, he’s a dumbass.” I choke on my water, laughing. “Kiss-asses should just chill like damn, it must be dark up someone’s ass for that long.”

Now it was Cheol’s turn to choke on his water, “please you’re killing me,” Cheol begins to giggle, causing people to look at us, “Sorry!” Cheol turns around and bows his head at the other people in the area. He’s so dorky, I think I’m-

“So, what should we get?” 

-

The night went by so fast and so did our food and beer. Four empty baskets of chicken. Two beer glasses, mid-way empty. 

“So, you’re telling me your parents stopped you from being an idol because they didn’t want you to live that life yet they run an entire COMPANY of idols.”

“I wish it made sense too.” I giggle while hiccuping. “Ok, missy, I think that’s enough for you.” Cheol takes away my glass from me, “Let me pay and we can walk around the area for a bit to kill the buzz, ok?”

“Hmmm,” I hum as I set my head on the window next to us.

-Seungcheol-

I pick up the check and glace over at y/n and she’s just watching the streets and lights, admiring it. She’s so precious. As I’m pulling my wallet out, y/n grabs my arm, “why is he here.” The two of us glance outside of the window and see an all too familiar looking motorcycle, “now what the fuck is his deal?”

“Hurry we can get out before he sees us,” Y/n looks at me with glossy eyes. I nod as I set cash down, writing ‘keep the change’ on the receipt, “there’s an employee exit I usually go through, come on.” I grab her hand and the two of us begin to rush out. Out of breath, she starts to laugh.

“I don’t get it.” 

“Get what?” 

“You.”

 I just laughs at her, “What are you on about now?” 

“You make me feel all-” 

“Soft? Gushy?” 

“Never say gushy around me again,” I laughs once more, “but yeah. You make me feel something I’ve never felt before.” 

“Well, I can say the same thing.” She stops dead in her tracks, turning around facing me. 

The silence was deadly yet we were locked in place. And then-

why must everything end up like this?

[mittensmorgul]

The End

Yes, we have 5.04, the episode titled The End, with the whole end!verse, but every time this phrase pops up in the show since then, I think this is the first thought a lot of people have. And I think it’s... wildly misleading. I mean, since we haven’t actually had a return to this specific “end.” And I don’t think we ever will. As everyone will recall, the show did not actually end after 5.04.

So to that end (pffft), I wanted to cobble together a history of the phrase as it’s been used throughout canon. Just for my own reference purposes. Here’s the big ones, though:

5.22 Swan Song:

CHUCK types "THE END" and takes a drink.  CHUCK: No doubt – endings are hard. But then again... nothing ever really ends, does it? 

(spoiler alert: fuck you, Chuck)

11.22: We Happy Few:

AMARA: My brother will dim and fade away into nothing. (Outside, ROWENA staggers to her feet. The sunlight is no longer just rosy, tinting the sky purple.) AMARA: But not until he sees what comes next. Not until he watches this world, everything he created, everything he loves turn to ash. (Outside, ROWENA turns, lifting a hand to shield her eyes.) AMARA: Welcome to the end. (She disappears.)

(lol, bzzzt, wrong, try again)

13.23 Let The Good Times Roll:

CASTIEL (to Michael): How do we stop him? MICHAEL: You don't. After consuming the Nephilim's grace, Lucifer's juiced up. He's super-charged. He'll kill the boy, your brother. Hell, he could end the whole universe if he put his mind to it. And you thought I was bad. DEAN: No. No, you beat him. I saw you. MICHAEL: When he was weaker, and I was stronger. Believe me, I'd love to rip my brother apart. But now in this banged up meatsuit... not happening. This is the end, of everything.

(way to horrifically manipulate the situation!)

14.20 Moriah:

CHUCK: (angrily): Fine! That's the way you want it? Story's over. Welcome to  The End.

(cue things happening for another 20 episodes... he’s 20 episodes too soon)

and since there were *a LOT* of results:

yes each one of those open tabs is a reference page I’m pulling quotes from, and yes there are so many open tabs they’ve blurred together. one big drawback about watching a show that has apocalypses every now and again. i’m omitting references that aren’t directly about narrative ends, too (like casual “at the end of the day” references and the like). this is gonna be long so it’s going under a cut:

2.22 All Hell Breaks Loose: Part Two:

YED Oh, Jake. It's got to be you. I've been waiting for you for a very long time. You're my leader. You open that crypt, and you will have your army. JAKE You're talking about the end of the world. YED No, not the end— the beginning... a better world, where your family will be protected. More than that. They'll be royalty. Buddy boy, you have the chance to get in on the ground floor of a thrilling opportunity. Whaddya say? It's your call.

(spoiler alert: pffft... the whole “Demon Army” thing was always a sham, I think pulled ON Azazel by Lilith, even if that was only retconned in later in canon. but also, endings are beginnings, the spiral loops ever onward, and it’s laughable now eleventynine loops of the spiral down the way from this moment, isn’t it? Jake who? Azazel the fanatic who wasn’t even trustworthy enough to be let in on Lilith’s real plans? Incredible)

4.05 Monster Movie:

DEAN: You think "elegance" is really the word for what you did to Marissa, or Rick Deacon, or any of the others?! DRACULA: But of course. It is a monster movie, after all. DEAN: You do realize what happens at the end of every monster movie? DRACULA: Ah, but this movie is mine. And in it, the monster wins. The monster gets the girl. And the hero, he’s... electrocuted. And tonight, Jonathan Harker, you will be my hero.

(spoiler alert: the monster does not win)

4.06 Yellow Fever:

Sam: So uh...so, what did you see? Near the end, I mean. Dean: Oh, besides a cop beating my ass? Sam: Seriously. Dean: Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of them. Those things creep the hell out of me. Sam: Right. Dean: No, just the usual stuff, Sammy. Nothing I can’t handle.

(spoiler alert: it was definitely not anything Dean could handle)

4.09 I Know What You Did Last Summer:

ANNA: Look... I get it. You think I'm nuts. If I were you, I'd think I was nuts. But it's all true. PSYCHOLOGIST: It's okay. You can tell me. I'm here to listen. ANNA: The end... is coming. The apocalypse. PSYCHOLOGIST: The apocalypse. Like in the Bible? ANNA: Kind of. I mean, same bottom line. This demon, Lilith, is trying to break the 66 seals to free Lucifer from Hell. Lucifer... Will bring the apocalypse. So... Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

(spoiler alert:... we know how this turned out)

4.15 Death Takes a Holiday:

DEAN: You know what I mean. We're talking the end of the world here, okay? No more tasseled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing.

(spoiler alert: Pamela’s cool with that since she’ll get an endless show at the Meadowlands in her personal heaven)

4.22 Lucifer Rising:

DEAN: But me and Sam, we can stop... (he cuts off, having an epiphany) You don't want to stop it, do you? ZACHARIAH: Nope. Never did. The end is nigh. The apocalypse is coming, kiddo, to a theater near you.

(spoiler alert... it bombed at the box office)

5.02: Good God, Y’all:

Dean: Listen, Chuckles, even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that's the generous theory— Castiel: He is out there, Dean. Dean: Or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us. I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right?

(spoiler alert: i mean he really wasn’t far off the mark was he...)

5.03 Free To Be You And Me:

REPORTER: —the town of Tully? tonight, John. Locals say that what started as a torrential hailstorm late this afternoon suddenly turned to massive lightning strikes that triggered the fires now consuming more than twenty acres here along the Route 17 corridor. County officials are advising all Tully residents to prepare for what could become mandatory evacuations. The BARTENDER shuts the TV off. BARTENDER: Damn. Is it me or does it seem like it's the end of the world? SAM looks away.

(spoiler alert: that was an observant bartender)

5.07 The Curious Case of Dean Winchester:

A WOMAN, MRS. XAVIER, is reading the Weekly World News, headline: "LEADING PSYCHICS AGREE: THE APOCALYPSE IS HERE! Experts confirm the end is upon us!" She chuckles. The door opens.

(spoiler alert: that time the Weekly World News was actually right)

5.08 Changing Channels:

Dean: Hey there, Sam. What's happening? Sam: Oh, nothing. Um. Just the end of the world.

(spoiler alert: lol)

5.09 The Real Ghostbusters:

CHUCK: Ok, Ok, just..okay, it's okay. so, next question. (hands shoot up) Yeah, you. FAN: Yeah, at the end of the last book, Dean goes to hell. So, what happens next?

(spoiler alert:  how do you feel about angels? Yeah, because let me tell you, they're not nearly as lame as you think.)

5.11 Sam Interrupted:

Dean: It's the end of the world, okay? I mean, it's a damn Biblical Apocalypse, and if I don't stop it and save everyone, then no one will, and we all die. Dr. Cartwright: That's horrible. Dean: Yeah, tell me about it. Dr. Cartwright: I mean, Apocalypse or no Apocalypse... monsters or no monsters, that's a crushing weight to have on your shoulders. To feel like six billion lives depend on you...God...how do you get up in the morning? Dean: That's a good question.

(spoiler alert: this is actually Dean talking to himself)

5.17 99 Problems:

SAM : Busy night? PAUL: I’m telling you, since The End started, it’s been like one long last call. That round’s on me. 

(spoiler alert: welcome to the apocalypse, pull up a bar stool)

DEAN: We’re all gonna die, Sam. In like a month—maybe two. I mean it. This is the end of the world, but these people aren’t freaking out. In fact they’re running to the exit in an orderly fashion. I don’t know that that’s such a bad thing. SAM: Who says they’re all gonna die? What ever happened to us saving them?

(spoiler alert: hey remember that other time Dean went all nihilistic about the end of the world? yeah good times)

DEAN: So the demons smoking out—that’s just a con? Why? What’s the endgame? CASTIEL: What you just saw—innocent blood spilled in God’s name. SAM: You heard all that heaven talk. She manipulates people. DEAN: To slaughter and kill and sing preppy little hymns. Awesome. CASTIEL: Her goal is to condemn as many souls to hell as possible. And it’s…just beginning. She’s well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit. 

(remember the whore of babylon’s MO? manipulating people into doing stuff they never would’ve out of fear? yeah)

LEAH: This is why my team’s gonna win. You’re the great vessel? You’re pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It’s the end of the world. And you’re just gonna sit back and watch it happen. DEAN grabs the stake, punches LEAH, and stakes her. DEAN : Don’t be so sure, whore.

(remember that time the whore of babylon taunted Dean about rejecting his destiny as the vessel of Michael, basically trying to manipulate him into doing the thing? And then he tried to go out and do the thing in the next episode but Cas stopped him? yeah good times)

5.18 Point Of No Return:

PREACHER : The end is nigh! The apocalypse is upon us! The angels talk to me, and they asked me to talk to you! The apocalypse— DEAN: Hey! I’m Dean Winchester. Do you know who I am? PREACHER: Dear God. DEAN: I’ll take that as a yes. Listen, I need you to pray to your angel buddies and let them know that I’m here. 

(spoiler alert: good thing that guy prayed too loud)

5.20 The Devil You Know:

CROWLEY Now...For the record, I'm against this. Negotiating a high-level defection -- It's very delicate business. SAM What are you talking about? CROWLEY I begged Dean not to come back. We should be miles away...from you. He replied with a colorful rejoinder about my "corn chute." SAM (scoffs) CROWLEY So, go ahead. Go --ruin our last best hope. It's only the end of the world.

(spoiler alert: considering this entire thing was a demonstration of Crowley’s ability to manipulate things to his favor... nice tug on the ol’ apocalypse card to get your way)

5.21 Two Minutes To Midnight:

Pestilence: Hmm. You boys don't look well. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever. Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis. That's no fun. However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions? Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself... very... pure... single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose -- divide and conquer. That's why, in the end... it always wins. So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy! And weak! It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now... On a scale of 1 to 10, how's your pain?

(spoiler alert: blowing up the bacteria actually kills them)

Bonus:

Death: As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless -- at the end, I'll reap him, too. Dean: God? You'll reap God? Death: Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean. Dean: Well, this is way above my pay grade. Death: Just a bit.

(spoiler alert: *taps watch and raises eyebrow at Billie*)

5.22 Swan Song:

CHUCK (VOICEOVER): Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass.

(spoiler alert: with the context that this is God speaking, RUDE)

6.15 The French Mistake:

BALTHAZAR Hello, boys. You've seen "the Godfather," right? DEAN Balthazar... BALTHAZAR You know, the end, where Michael Corleone sends his men to kill his enemies in one big, bloody swoop? (Balthazar finds a container of salt and pours it into a bowl on Bobby's desk) DEAN Hey! BALTHAZAR  "Dead Sea brine." Good, good, good. You know, Moe Greene gets it in the eye, and Don Cuneo gets it in the revolving door? DEAN I said "hey." BALTHAZAR You did. Twice. Good for you. Blood of lamb. Blood of lamb. (looking through Bobby's fridge contents) Beer, cold pizza. Blood of lamb. Yes! Blood of lamb! SAM Why are you talking about "the Godfather"? BALTHAZAR Because we're in it – right now, tonight. And in the role of Michael Corleone – The archangel Raphael.

(spoiler alert: Raphael was playing at being a Michael wasn’t he...)

6.20 The Man Who Would Be King:

CASTIEL You want to make a deal? With me? I'm an Angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell. CROWLEY But that's it, isn't it? It's all of it. It's the souls. It all comes down to the souls in the end, doesn't it? CASTIEL What in the hell are you talking about? CROWLEY I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike. I'm talking about happy endings for all of us, with all possible entendres intended. Come on. Just a chat.

(spoiler alert... it all comes down to the souls in the end, happy endings for all of us, or we can hope)

Bonus, for the sake of hilarity, because of the implication that Hell is a spiral narrative that begins at the ending, All Along The Watchtower style:

CROWLEY Yeah. See, problem with the old place was most of the inmates were masochists already. A lot of "thank you, sir. Can I have another hot spike up the jacksie?" But just look at them. No one likes waiting in line. CASTIEL And what happens when they reach the front? CROWLEY Nothing. They go right back to the end again. That's efficiency.

(spoiler alert: THAT’S EFFICIENCY!)

Double bonus, because I said so:

CASTIEL If you touch the Winchesters... CROWLEY Please. I heard you the first time. I promise -- nary a hair on their artfully tousled heads. Besides, I think they've proven my point for me. It's always your friends, isn't it, in the end? We try to change. We try to improve ourselves. It's always our friends who got to claw into our sides and hold us back. But you know what I see here? The new God (pointing at Castiel) and the new Devil, working together.

(no spoilers, this is just Cas giving everything, selling himself out, for his loved ones again)

6.21 Let It Bleed:

March 15, 1937 Providence, Rhode Island

(A man, H.P. Lovecraft, is typing on a typewriter. He drinks and continues typing. He types "THE END" then places the final paper on top of the others. His door creaks open, seemingly by itself. At the same time, there is a crack of thunder and the lights flicker. He looks up, afraid

(spoiler alert: guess what happened next? *screams and blood splatter* *title card*)

bonus:

CASTIEL: It's a means to an end. Balthazar, you understand that. BALTHAZAR: Oh, absolutely. But what's the end here exactly? You know, raid Purgatory, snatch up all the souls? CASTIEL: Win the war.

(spoiler alert: or option B, exploding and taking half the planet with him... always an option, apparently, and the one that kinda happened...)

7.20 The Girl With The Dungeons And Dragons Tattoo:

CHARLIE: So what's the end game – steal our resources, make us some slaves? DEAN: Planet-wide value meal. We're the meat.

(spoiler alert: sorry they weren’t kidding, Charlie. the Leviathan’s end game was pretty miserable)

7.21 Reading Is Fundamental:

DEAN picks up a “Sorry!” card. CASTIEL: You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it. No offense, but I [DEAN moves a marker on the board] was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was... just amazing. It's in perfect tune [CASTIEL picks up a card] with the spheres. But in the end, it was you – the [CASTIEL moves a marker] homo sapiens sapiens. You guys ate the apple, invented pants. DEAN: Cas, where can we find this, uh, Metatron? Is he still alive? CASTIEL: I'm sorry. I – I think you have to go back to start. DEAN moves a marker. DEAN: This is important. CASTIEL motions for DEAN to pick up another card. DEAN does and moves another marker. DEAN: I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. You understand that? CASTIEL picks up another card. CASTIEL: We live in a "sorry" universe. It's engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune? [CASTIEL puts down a marker and moves DEAN’s marker back to the start.] But these are the rules. I didn't make them. DEAN: You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall. CASTIEL: Dean... it's your move. DEAN pounds a fist on the table and swipes the board to the floor. DEAN: Forget the damn game! Forget the game, Cas.

(spoiler alert: In the end, it was you... I mean humanity won the evolutionary lottery and ended up being able to make the rules for ourselves. All through this, Dean’s looking for other potential avenues toward saving the world from being devoured by Leviathan. Remember when Metatron might be able to do a lot of good? while Cas dodges the actual subject and plays a game that literally continually sends Dean “back to the start” to make the same moves again, maybe slightly differently this time, different strategy, as he repeatedly tries to get Cas to answer HIS question about the actual world-ending game they’re playing against the Leviathan? THIS IS THE SPIRAL NARRATIVE IN ACTION IN ONE SCENE. “WE LIVE IN A SORRY UNIVERSE ENGINEERED TO CREATE CONFLICT” “BUT THESE ARE THE RULES” And when Dean is tired of trying to work within the rules? *game goes flying* *smashes God’s guitar* heck this is a perfect scene... have I mentioned that I love Ben Edlund lately?)

8.01 We Need To Talk About Kevin:

DEAN: Yeah, Cas didn't make it. SAM: What exactly does that mean? DEAN: Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go.

(spoiler alert: Dean’s already rewriting this ending in his head because he can’t accept the truth of it. Endings suck, and this one would not stand.)

8.12 As Time Goes By:

HENRY : John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the Letters. DEAN : Well, he learned things a little differently. HENRY : How? DEAN : The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war... only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon... and later killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad.

(spoiler alert: see, Dean’s already made a hell of a lot of peace with John even way back then)

8.14 Trial and Error:

DEAN: I'm a grunt, Sam. You're not. You've always been the brains of this operation. SAM: Dean— DEAN: And you told me yourself that you see a way out. You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get. So I'm gonna do these trials. I'm gonna do them alone – end of story. You're staying here. I'm going out there. If landshark comes knocking, you call me. If you try to follow me, I'm gonna put a bullet in your damn leg.

(spoiler alert: just look at the title of this episode to see how this all turned out. It ain’t called “Trial and Major Win”)

Bonus:

SAM: I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. DEAN: Sam, be smart. SAM: I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.

(spoiler alert: hell if this doesn’t sound like the speech Sam gave Dean in 14.12, but like way less frustrated, angry, and afraid)

8.17 Goodbye Stranger:

Meg: You ever miss the Apocalypse? Castiel: No. Why would I miss the end of times? Meg: I miss the simplicity. I was bad. You were good. Life was easier. Now it's all so messy. I'm kind of good, which sucks. And you're kind of bad -- which is actually all manner of hot. We survive this... I'm gonna order some pizza and we're gonna move some furniture around. You understand?

(spoiler alert: Cas doesn’t miss the end of times. And the only reason he was “kind of bad” here was because he was being mind-controlled by Naomi so... Meg will be dead by the end of the episode, and Cas will be freed from Heaven’s control. Good times. Better than the apocalypse anyway)

8.19 Taxi Driver:

BOBBY: Yeah. Yeah, well... You know, I always figured that'd be the end of it... You know, just a Hunter's funeral. Zip. Nothing. And I was okay with that. Imagine my surprise. SAM: Well, I guess if there has to be an eternity, I'd pick Heaven over Hell. BOBBY: Yeah. 'Cause there's nothing screwy going on up there. SAM: I wish I made the rules. BOBBY: Well... I'll, uh, do my part, get to the end of this, but... I ain't exactly the retiring type, so, you idjits figure out a way to spring me...

(spoiler alert: apparently what’s burned doesn’t stay dead, s8 version? Also Sam wishes he made the rules... I love all these mentions of “the rules”)

8.21 The Great Escapist:

DEAN: We got the other half of the tablet. KEVIN: What? DEAN: It's the light at the end of your tunnel, kid. Don't say we never got you nothing.

(tfw the light at the end of the tunnel is actually a locomotive)

Dean: Cure a demon. Okay, ignoring the fact that I have no idea what that actually means, if we — if we do this, you get better, right? I mean, you stop trying to cough up a lung, and, and, and bumping into furniture? Sam: I feel better, yeah, um, just having a direction to move in. Dean: Well, good, cause where we're headed doesn't sound like a picnic. Sam: But we're heading somewhere. The end.

(spoiler alert: LOLOLOL thing again bub.)

9.20 Bloodlines:

ENNIS: Look, I don't need no apology from you. DAVID: I lost someone, too, okay?! But I'm trying here. ENNIS: I'm sorry about your brother. He spoke about you at the end. He said, "David, I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice."

(I wasn’t gonna include this, because it’s purely conversational on top of being from this episode which doesn’t really count but... when they’ve both lost people in a sacrifice play, and one is mistaken for the other and his dying words for his brother are “I didn’t have a choice?” um... that just felt relevant)

9.23 Do You Believe in Miracles?

Gadreel: I sat in this hole for thousands of years thinking of nothing but redemption, of reclaiming my good name. I thought of nobody, no cause other than my own. Castiel: You've been redeemed my friend. Gadreel: The only thing that matters in the end is the mission: protecting those who would not and cannot protect themselves. The humans. None of us is bigger than that, we will not let our fears, our self absorption prevent us from seeing it through. Not anymore. Castiel: No, no of course not. Gadreel: Move to the other side of your cell Castiel, and keep your head down. When they say my name, perhaps I won't just be the one who let the Serpent in, perhaps I will be known as one of the many that gave Heaven a second chance. Run sister.

(spoiler alert: redemption, selfless sacrifice, Gadreel meets his end to prove Metatron’s manipulative duplicity and reveal his real motive... that was just another game in a different loop of the spiral. In the end, it’s the only thing that matters)

10.20 Angel Heart:

CASTIEL: So do you think she's better off on her own? SAM: Cas, she just turned 18. CASTIEL: You were alone when you left for college at that age, weren't you? SAM: Yeah, but that's different. CASTIEL: How, Sam? SAM: Here's all I know ... going it alone, that's no way to live. You being there for her, even if she thinks she doesn't want you to be there for her, that's good for both of you. CASTIEL: Maybe, in the end. SAM: In the end.

(spoiler alert: things don’t just get better right away, and they’re hard but family sticks together, loved ones stick together, even when they say they don’t want to... it might not be easy now, but in the end...)

11.02 Form and Void:

SAM: I was infected last night. You? RABID MAN: This morning. SAM: Wait a second. Then why -- RABID MAN: . . . am I further along? Don't know. This thing, it ain't math. I seen some people change fast, some change slow. But in the end . . . We all end up the same. We go psycho. And then we go boom. SAM: Well, that's not -- I'm gonna fix this. RABID MAN: LIAR! You and me, we're dead. We're just taking our sweet time about it. So if you were smart, you'd put a bullet in me . . . and then eat one yourself.

(Sam wasn’t lying, Rabid Man. You just didn’t make it. And Sam was smart not to put a bullet in either of you.)

Bonus, for extra manipulation:

HANNAH: Where is it? CASTIEL: I don't know. HANNAH: Then who would? The Winchesters? Castiel, if this is true, it's the end for all of us. Sam and Dean -- where are they? CASTIEL: I don't know. HANNAH: Then think harder! CASTIEL: How did you find me?

(because that’s the thing, Cas realized Hannah wasn’t there to help, not there to heal him, and that she’d been in charge of all of this all along. She could’ve helped Cas like he’d asked and earned his trust and he probably would’ve shared what he knew of the Darkness with her, but she resorted to the old Heaven Way Of Doing Things instead... and he saw through the manipulation)

11.09 O Brother Where Art Thou?

Man: Repress your sins. Beg for his divine mercy. When the end comes – and come it will – only the forgiven will ascend to holy grace.

and

Amara raises both her arms skyward, compelling lightning bolts. One by one the members of the crowd are struck down; with the final lightning bolt hitting the man who had been preaching. They are all dead, completely scorched. The blood on the fountain turns back to water. The thunderstorm ends. Amara surveys her work, her gaze resting on one body, still holding a sign that says: THE END IS NEAR!

(gotta love those wackadoo religious nuts in this universe, right?)

Dean: What is it exactly that you want? When you make the world of bliss and peace, what’s in it for you? Amara: What I deserve. Dean: Which is? Amara: Everything. Dean: Everything? Amara: I was the beginning and I will be the end. I will be all that there is. Dean: So, you’re it. [Dean turns away from Amara]. That would make you God. Amara: No, God was the Light. I’m the Dark.

(So Amara was the beginning and will be the ending, all that there is... kinda... sounds a bit like... the empty?)

11.10 The Devil In The Details:

Lucifer: Okay, you don't like me. I get it... I get it; sometimes I don't like me either. But Gabriel and Raphael are dead. God went out for a pack of smokes and never came back... and Michael... well, let's just say prison life hasn't really agreed with Michael. These days he's usually sitting in a corner singing show tunes and touching himself. Sam: So you're it. Lucifer [laughing]: I'm it! And hey, I'm not the good guy, we both know I'm not, but the Darkness, she's the end of everything. Lucifer crouches down so he is face to face with Sam, imploring with him. Lucifer: But I can beat her. We can beat her. You and me, together. So come on, Sam. Make the right choice, the big sacrifice one more time, man. Sam, it's time to save the world, man.

(hooooly shit there’s a lot of lying and manipulating happening here... and the Darkness? even she wasn’t the end of everything)

11.16 Safe House:

(mostly included for flashback-to-the-apocalypse lolz)

BOBBY: The apocalypse is on the horizon, and you wanna hunt a damn ghost! RUFUS: Well unless you found a way to stop the end of the world during your little siesta, we got jack all on any of that business. Now I knew you were in the area, heard about this possible little gig, I thought a win would be nice.

(because it’s the end of the world and weird random “wins” help. Plus things that exist outside of time and space in convenient pocket dimensions for easy storage outside of God’s lil creation)

11.17 Red Meat:

Michelle: I... I just wanted to see how you were doing. And to tell you th... [Her voice shakes with emotion and she pauses.] I'm sorry. You saved our lives and... [another pause] well, my mom used to say, um... I didn't believe her then, but I... I think I do now. She used to say... death... it's not the end.

(lololololololllllllllll)

Dean’s spirit: You know, the Darkness is out there... and the world is gonna burn. And once she gets started, that's the end of everything, including you. Now, Sam's the only one who can stop it. Billie: Hmm. How's that? Dean is lost for words. Billie: That's what I thought. It's cute, though. You pretending you're trying to save Sam for the greater good, when we both know you're doing it for you. You can't lose him. But even if Sammy could win the title bout... the answer would still be “no.” The answer will always be “no.” Game's over, Dean. No more second chances. No more extra lives. Time to say bye-bye to Luigi, Mario. Dean’s spirit [sadness and desperation in his eyes]: I'm asking you... I'm begging you, please. Bring him back. Bring him back and take me instead. Billie: I'm not here to bargain with you, kid. I'm here to reap you. And the kicker is... Sam's not dead. [Dean looks stunned] But you are. Or will be, soon enough.

(DOUBLE LOLLLOLOLOLOLLOLLOLLLL)

11.21 All in The Family:

Dean: You're right. I am drawn to you. And it bothers the hell out of me, 'cause I can't control it. Amara: Then why fight it? What you're feeling is that I am the end of your struggle. Something stops you. Keeps you from having it all.

(lol Amara REALLY wants to be the end doesn’t she... poor thing gonna get stuck with Mr. Infinite Loop Chuck... no wonder that’s like her worst nightmare. Heck, being locked up in nothingness sounds better, since that IS her deal... she’s not just the “end” though... she’s also the beginning...Alpha and Omega... Chuck is all the middle bits)

11.22 We Happy Few:

CHUCK: I can’t say I’m sorry if I’m not. (He places plates of pancakes in front of SAM and DEAN.) What he wants an apology for, I did it for humanity. For the world. Look, Lucifer wants what everybody wants: Amara gone. ‘kay? Let’s just give him a little time to cool off. (CHUCK sips from a mug labeled WORLD’S GREATEST DAD.) DEAN: Okay, well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a little time is not something that we have. The end is frickin’ nigh.

(omfg it’s all the Dabb era themes... god Chuck has always been a dick)

Bonus:

CLEA: End times shouldn’t bother you though, Ro, you a rat. Find your way off any sinkin’ ship. ROWENA: Damn right. The spell I’m working on is Book of the Damned magic, and it can get us back. We can buy ourselves a few more centuries of life. Turn back the clock for us before the world inevitably goes (sing-song) ‘bye-bye.’ CLEA: You scared. ROWENA: Aye. I came face-to-face with the Darkness. The Apocalypse bell’s been rung a few times in our day, but when I looked inside her, I saw it. Not just the end of the world, Heaven and Hell. The end of magic. 

11.23 Alpha And Omega:

CAS: The angels are—Heaven won't help. DEAN: They know that this is the end, right? Of everything. CAS: Yes. SAM: And they don't care? CAS: No, it's not that. It's... They know—They know God is dying and they don't think we can win this. Souls or no souls. They're sealing Heaven, and they're "dying with dignity".

(spoiler alert: it’s like they keep trying to do this all through Dabb era... even after the Shadow throws open every gate. They’re still dying. Kinda makes me think it’s Chuck’s doing... literally... all of it, since it was Humanity’s Plan in this episode that CHANGED things from Chuck’s plan to just... wait for the inevitable blast wave ending)

[Sam, Cas, Crowley and Rowena, and Chuck pull up in the Impala to ‘The The Lazy Shag’ bar/restaurant which has a ‘Closed’ sign on the door. A man walks by with a sign that says ‘The End Is Near’.]

(and a bit later Cas comments that Chuck looks terrible >.>)

12.12 Stuck In The Middle (With You):

[organ music plays, Castiel is sitting in his truck listening to the radio] RADIO: Each of us has a time the physical body dies. We all face God’s judgment in the end. There’s not one of us alive walking on this earthly plane that will not pay the consequence for their actions. [the Impala pulls into the parking lot, distracting Cas from the radio] RADIO: The Lord will hold us in the palm of his hand, and he’ll weigh our souls. Brothers and sisters, are you worthy? [Cas turns off the radio]

(lol, THE WOUNDED ANGEL)

RAMIEL: Allies. Is that what you call three humans with one good liver between them and a busted up angel? CROWLEY: I admit they don’t sound like much. But every Armageddon, every bloody, “this is the end of all things,” a Winchester stopped it. Like it or not, they’re an asset we can’t afford to lose.

(Crowley being sensible, there’s something much bigger than Ramiel’s surface-level read at stake here)

12.20 Twigs And Twine And Tasha Banes:

KETCH: It's the end for the American Hunters. Their time has passed.

(BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA)

WOMAN: I'm reaching the end of my very long life, and it's a problem. Max and Dean are also in pain. Another image of Tasha in the cellar bleeding profusely from her stomach area flashes. WOMAN: 'cause I sold my soul for power. So when I pass, my soul goes to Hell. Unless I can find someone to take the burden, to take my magic.

(spoiler alert: that’s YOUR problem, lady)

12.22 Who We Are:

SAM: Is this how you pictured it? The end? DEAN: Oh, you know it's not. I always thought we'd go out like... Butch and Sundance style. (Sam chuckles) SAM: Yeah. Blaze of glory. DEAN: Blaze of glory. (Dean smirks) Son of a bitch.

(spoiler alert: the grenadebaiting payoff. Gonna die anyway? May as well get the big boom.)

13.02 The Rising Son:

SAM: These yellow-eyed things just keep on comin’, huh? DEAN: Mm—hmm. And hopefully this fourth Prince of Hell is the last Kardashian in the family. SAM: According to this, if that was Asmodeus, it’s the end of the line.

(hey, for once, reaching the end of the line is a relief)

13.16 Scoobynatural:

SAM: Dude, what's wrong with you? DEAN: They don't know that they're in a...a C-word. And we're not gonna tell 'em about anything. Not where we're from, not about monsters. Nothing. Capiche? (Dean looks over to the Scooby Gang, standing across the room) DEAN: They are pure and innocent and good, and we're gonna keep it that way. SAM: Look, if you've seen this episode, why-why can't we just skip to the end? DEAN: Well, 'cause sometimes it's about the journey and not the destination.

(we can’t “skip to the end” because it’s about the JOURNEY, which is still ONGOING, and therefore NOT THE END)

Bonus:

Sam: Ha! Velma was right. It was a shady real estate developer after all. Jay: It's not fair. I would've gotten away with it if it wasn't for those meddling kids. Dean: He said it! He said the line! Scooby Dooby Do! Sam: What are you doing? Dean: Well, I mean at the end of every mystery, Scooby looks at the camera and he says-- Castiel: Dean, you're not a talking dog. Dean: I know that. I... Sam: Yeah. Dean: No, but come on, I-I do look cool with the ascot, right? No? Guys? Come on, guys. Look, red is my color!

(lol!)

13.20 Unfinished Business:

KEVIN: I didn't have a choice! I… Y-you don't understand. I… I… I never used to believe in anything. Well, ex-except science-- quantum mechanical unpredictably. But then the end of the world happened, and everyone around me-- my friends, and my… my mom-- they all started to die. But God chose me? What… What does that even mean?! Michael said he wanted to save the world, not kill it. But he… he hurt so many people. When I couldn't perfect the spell, Michael, he got mad and threw me in the dungeon. And I was so scared, but I fixed it. B-but I… I couldn't do it anymore.

(aah, the poor Worst Version of Kevin, no choice, thought he was doing the right thing, manipulated by circumstance and empty promises...)

GABRIEL: I had it made-- all the booze I could drink, all the, uh, entertainment I could handle. [Sam interrupts and Dean looks disappointed, but the action returns to the motel room] SAM: Okay! Why don't we just skip to the end? [Gabriel sighs and skips to the end of the story, asleep in bed with the two women, when Sleipnir, Narfi, and Fenrir bound him with a sigil and kidnapped him from his bed] GABRIEL: So this is how it ended. By the time I came to, they had sold me to Asmodeus. SAM: Why would they do that? GABRIEL: Hello? Lucifer? In case you don't remember, there was an apocalypse brewing at the time.

(LOL Sam asked Gabriel to skip to the end of the story, and unlike Dean in 13.16, Gabriel did... no wonder Dean was disappointed, he was enjoying the journey even if most of Gabriel’s story was embellished beyond recognition)

LOKI: You think you're some… poor, innocent victim? [he strolls over and punches Gabriel again] Gabriel, with his deadbeat daddy and his mean older brothers. [he stomps on Gabriel] “Who will help me?” “Who will save me?” [he picks Gabriel up and pins him to the wall by his neck] I did! But you… you couldn't keep one promise. And then you had the audacity to ask me to help you again?! [he throws Gabriel down the hall, where Sam and Dean have arrived in a doorway behind him] You think I deserve to die for your spinelessness?! That my sons deserved to die?! [the fight continues, as Dean slides Loki’s sword to Gabriel and Gabriel finally gets Loki pinned to the wall at the tip of the blade] LOKI: Of course, of course you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass. GABRIEL: Shut up! LOKI: Face it, old friend, you're a joke. You're a failure. You live for pleasure. You stand for nothing. And in the end, that's exactly what you'll die for.

(heck... I mean, Loki dies here, because that “promise?” Gabriel didn’t break it. Loki just wouldn’t listen to facts or accept the reality of what happened. Gabriel had been trying to SAVE his father in 5.19, but THEY also wouldn’t listen... so... poor Gabriel was just stuck in the middle again, and he was imprisoned and tortured for it. Heck he better still be alive and that was another projection that died in 13.22)

14.03 The Scar:

Dean: You were right. I just didn’t want to look at it, what Michael used me for. I just wanted to race ahead. You know, skip to the end of the story the part where I get the weapon and I take out the bad guy. The part where I kill Michael. Sam: Yeah, I know. Dean: You know I said yes to him because I thought: it was stupid. I was stupid. Sam: Dean, you did what you had to do.

(ugh there’s that awful “you did what you had to do.” there was NO CHOICE. NONE. and Dean just wanted revenge at any cost for having been used like that... not even just by Michael, but in the Grander Scheme he has context for after 14.20)

14.07 Unhuman Nature:

Rowena: It's as I suspected. A Nephilim, for all its power, is an unnatural presence. Part human, part angel… It -- It doesn't quite fit. It's delicate. Its grace is what holds it in balance, and when Jack's grace was taken from him, his being fell into chaos. The -- The cells are gobbling each other up. Castiel: Well, if it's grace he needs, he can have mine. Rowena: No, dear, it won't do. Jack is part archangel. He needs a much stronger force and probably some kind of magic, and he needs it quick. Dean: How quick? Rowena: I don't...I don't exactly know, but he's enterin' a critical phase. Sometimes he'll look just fine, but then his body will give way and...it'll be the end of him.

(interesting phrasing...)

14.10 Nihilism:

Mainly, I wanted to make note of the song choice that plays in Rocky’s Bar, “Searchin’ for a Rainbow” by the Marshall Tucker Band. Because the lyrics repeat on a loop about looking for the end of the rainbow

14.11 Damaged Goods:

SAM: Mom, we don’t hug. I mean, w-we do, but only if it’s literally the end of the world, you know?

(yet... Dean awkwardly hugged him... sign of the apocalypse)

14.12 Prophet and Loss:

DEAN: Hey. Man, I-I just want to make sure that you’re still with me on this thing. You’re gonna see it through to the end. SAM: Well, I gave you my word, didn’t I? DEAN: Okay, alright. Just, you know, after what you said last night, I-I-I don’t need you and Mom coming up with some way to stop me. SAM: You know, Mom hates this. I hate this. DEAN: I know. SAM: And Cas and Jack, you haven’t even told them. DEAN: Okay, well, yeah, that’s because I’m not good with the whole big goodbyes, alright? I-I-I don’t need to get shaky on this thing. SAM: Wouldn’t be the worst thing. DEAN: You know what Michael wants to do, you know that this will stop it, and you know that there’s no other way. So, just put the end of this trip outta your head, okay?

(spoiler alert: oh look it’s nihilistic Dean from back in 5.18 come for a brief visit. good thing he got clocked on the noggin instead of doing this dumb thing)

Bonus that’s not really a bonus, because boy’s obsessed and it’s just not healthy:

DEAN: I believe in all of us. And I’ll keep believing until I can’t. Until there’s absolutely no other way. But when that day comes – if that day comes… Sam, you have to take it for what it is – the end. And you have to promise me that you’ll do then what you can’t do now, and that’s let me go. And put me in that box.

[angrylizardjacket]

drowning in honey, stingless {Roger Taylor}

Summary: Giselle’s life is a series of sensations and struggles, more often than not, alone.

Disclaimer: ‘drowning in honey, stingless’ is a quote from Evelyn Waugh

A/N: 1631 words. Please do not ask me what this is I do not know, just read it and enjoy it if you please. Warning for drug use.

[And All The Queen’s Men ‘verse]

Sometimes it’s like moving through a haze, through a dream, everything melts away when she asks, everyone around dances to her heartbeat; the world waits for no man, but she is no man and it would come to a grinding halt at her insistence. Not that there hasn’t been push back, not that her reputation, her skin colour, her gender, hasn’t garnered her scorn in a day and genre popularised by pretty, white boys; her life wasn’t handed to her on a silver platter, but she still manages to act like it was. Sometimes she forgets it’s an act.

The choice comes when she’s nineteen; she deludes herself into thinking it’s not nepotism, that it’s not favoritism, that she can’t see the shadow of her father’s influence puppeteering the executives offering her a contract, the chance to make something of her future and of herself. They pry her from her last name, as if the world won’t know where she came from, whose legacy she stands in the shadow of; they monetize her isolation for themselves, build her brand around Giselle alone. It’s easy to act aloof and detached, to build herself up on her own merits, and bury the memory of who she once was.

Over the years, best friends were replaced with ‘yes’ men, doing anything to make her smile, anything to keep her singing. She got friends, of course she’s still got friends, but she knows they love the idea of her, they love her name and the fame it garners, more than they love her. People from university, people from high school, people from before all of this, all of whoever she is now, they turned fickle, or they disappeared. Except John, but things are so different now. They’re not nineteen anymore.

And perhaps sometimes when she looks at bands, looks at friends, looks at the way real people actually seem to care about each other, there’s a gnawing sensation at her heart, a loneliness she can’t quite put into words. There’s a bubble around her, and everyone else likes to pretend that she can’t see out, can only see the world as gold as they’ve tried to tint it, to keep her ignorant to the critics who are cruel for the sake of being cruel, or even those who offer genuine critique amid their criticisms of the things she cannot change. She still sees the world, it’s hate and love, in equal measure, but they want her drowning in honey, stingless, alone.

A new choice comes when she’s twenty four- reach out. It’s easier now than it was when she began; she wasn’t a pushover then and she’s not a pushover now, but it still takes work. To reach out professionally was the easy part, the shallow business transaction of ‘I want to cover your song’ being as simple as it sounds, easier still when she’s told to go direct to them, to ask without preamble.  Except she’s met with four smiles, well, three genuine smiles and whatever Roger’s doing with his face, and the salt crust on her slowly calcifying heart might just begin to crack.

The mask she puts on for the world, as shiny as diamond and twice as cold, is a familiar discomfort, an itch she’s used to, and she feels naked without it, speaking to these people like friends, like those who understand, at least in part, her position. It’s hard to let them in, but the world sharpens around her like it hasn’t in years, she still makes herself see a haze of rose gold but she feels awake like she hasn’t in a long time, touch starved like she can’t bring herself to admit out loud. John is proud, prouder than she expected him to be in the face of all she’s left behind of herself from when he knew her; around him, and only around him, she can face who she once was, admit that she misses it. Can admit that she misses it, and still smile.

Freddie’s there, filling the cracks in her heart with glitter for grout because he knows, he knows, that critics think that humanity and weakness are one in the same; he’s seen Giselle’s real smile and he’ll help her hide it if it means he’ll get to see it again.

And Roger? She knows she’s competitive, knows she’s brash and loud and far too human, and he seems determined to pull those qualities from her with both hands; he makes her feel alive, makes her feel human, and she hates him for it.

When Brian looks at her, he sees her, unbiased, unflinching, doesn’t know her like John, love her like Freddie, dismiss her like Roger. He sees her, eye to eye, as a musician first and foremost; her value lies in her work and in greatness she’s earned. Somehow he sees not who she was, not who she wants the world to see, he sees her for her work, he sees who she is. Through her golden haze of fame, the legacy she’s left behind and the one she’s still building, amid her icy veneer and the cracks of her touch starved heart, he sees Giselle Jones, twenty four, alone on the precipice of legendary; he, along with queen, agree to step up beside her.

Barely at twenty seven and she’s free falling, gathering stardust as she crashes back to Earth, to remind herself she’s human. So she puts her hopes and fears into her music, and the crowd sing along to the soundtrack of her spiralling, thinking it’s for them - it’s not, it never was, her music is hers; selfish and self indulgent, she’s at least earned that.

If she goes too far it doesn’t show in papers, in the real world, in the world outside of Bowie’s laughter, Elton’s feather’s, and oh, oh, oh whatever Roger’s doing with his mouth. She won’t remember it as anything more than a happy, hazy blur the next morning, but she feels alive right now. Since the beginning she’d been thrown in the deep end, a spectacle to watch as they make bets on whether she’ll sink of swim; she’s left EMI, moved to a new company that won’t keep her on a leash. She’s got free reign, unafraid of falling, of sinking, of crashing, so long as she can pick up the pieces before the paparazzi catch on.

They don’t. Her crystal veneer sits safely on the shelf the nights she goes hard, invites big names with bigger personalities into the safety of her home, away from the prying public. Star studded and exclusive, the dinners she hosts are just a chance to let loose amongst those who understand. She’s forgotten more life changing moments than most other people ever hope to have, concerts and faces of people she once idolised, singing her praises, bottles of champagne that could probably pay some people’s rent for a month, little white lines of powder that make the world as hazy as it sometimes feels, like syrup, like dreaming; this time drowning in honey of her own accord. Not alone this time, just lonely.

Maybe she swings too fast between nothing and everything.

Maybe they can’t keep up.

Maybe the world melts when she asks it to, and when she’d come back, when it had reformed, nothing was the same.

Maybe because she thought she was falling, thought she was crashing, though she’d reached new heights without even meaning to; the top of the world is lonely.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

In this light, he’s golden too.

“What? I didn’t even say anything.”

He takes her hand where she’s sitting up in bed, the sheets having fallen away where she’s watching the sunset through the window, it’s like they’re the only ones left in their quiet corner of the world. When his skin touches hers, it’s startling for her to realise they’re alone, but she doesn’t actually feel lonely.

“Yeah, but I know that look.”

“What look?”

She wonders idly, that when, amongst her blur of memories for the past few years, that the person who was once the bane of her existence managed to crawl into the cracks of her not quite calcified heart.

“Of course you have a look; like you’re just coming down from a really good high but you’ve realised that something about the music isn’t right and you start spiralling.”

“I don’t remember that happening.”

A lie. She just doesn’t remember him being there. The music’s never right, the guests are too loud, the high too fleeting, but no-one else seems to realise; or maybe they can’t hear her for the haze… it’s not gold like it once was. ‘Yes’ men dropping off like flies; she doesn’t need their approval among the oceans of adoration each concert garners; the people paid to love her leave eventually.

Roger, by her side, laughs.

“You worry a lot when you’re sobering up. It’s cute.”

“I do not!”

“‘Zelle, I’ve been there, believe me.”

“It’s kind of shitty that you think my worry’s cute.”

“I think everything about you is cute.”

“You’re taking the piss.”

“Usually, yeah, but not this time.”

Pulling her back down to him, he grounds her. He doesn’t say it, but he understands, at least in part. He pushes back, but it’s a reminder than he’s there, pries apart her glitter-stained heart without meaning to, without realising. It takes time to learn to float without drowning amid the chaos of her life, but Roger seems to have one of those inflatable pool chairs, metaphorically speaking, and he helps her aboard.

Queen’s here, she makes herself remember, at the top of the world, by her side.

And Roger? He makes her feel human, and she’s pretty sure she loves him for it.

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Twenty: The Routine; Step by Step ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Uchiha Sachiko ] [ Verse: The World’s a Stage ] [ Previous || Next ]

Six weeks. Six weeks he had to stay in that hospital, waiting for the singed and melted flesh to heal. The only things that made it bearable were the visits he got. Primarily from his grandmother, but also from Ryū...and eventually, to his honest surprise, Kakashi.

Their reunion had been rather...awkward, at first. And Kakashi admitted that he’d been at least partially prompted by Ryū to show up. But it had been a long time coming, the pair sitting and talking about all that had happened for hours. Rin, the accident, their falling out...and then the fire.

Ryū had waited down in the hospital’s cafe, giving the boys their privacy. Only once texted that it was over did she come back up, smiling wearily as they both gave looks of tired accomplishment.

...but his wounds weren’t his only punishment.

Arson in the first degree. Depending on factors the prosecutor wants to bring forward, he could - in theory - face up to life in prison, and a fifty-thousand dollar fine. Stack that on top of his hospital bills and a lawyer...and things aren't looking good.

His grandmother insists the bills don’t matter - she’s just glad he made it out alive, even if it was his fault to begin with. Ryū sets up a fundraiser, and they manage to bring in a few thousand dollars, but...that’s really just a few drops in the pail.

Court is a terrifying thing. As legal jargon is tossed around and his fate decided by someone else, Obito can do little more than be truthful. Admit to his anger, explain its roots, plead that he’s more than learned his lesson.

The building he burned was condemned, but still legally considered a residence. In the end...he’s given seven years jail time, tried and prosecuted as an adult, being eighteen.

“We’ll visit whenever we can,” they tell him - his grandmother, Kakashi, Ryū. And still they try to find funding for his remaining bills, legal and medical alike.

For the most part, his stint in the joint is...unremarkable. The first year is filled with visits from all three, and even a few other students who feel sympathy. But then Kakashi and Ryū start college, and their arrivals dwindle. Depression on the rise, Obito just...slogs through it, day by day, unsure what he’s going to do when he gets out. Hell...he wasn’t sure what he was going to do before he started that fire. He had no direction, no goal...just anger and sadness and a tight grip on his past...without any thought to his future.

He tries to reflect. Tries to look forward. But there isn’t much for him to glean.

For good behavior, they shave off his last six months. At age twenty-five, Obito is released from prison.

...and he has no idea where to go from here.

By some miracle, his grandmother is still alive, but getting frailer by the day. Mostly he’s just glad he’s out before she’s gone. Their full reunion is a teary one, Obito enveloping her in a hug that almost makes her disappear.

“Oh, my boy...it’s been so cold and lonely without you here…”

“I’m sorry, grandma. I’m here, now.”

He starts looking for a job. But no one wants to hire a convicted felon. Even menial labor jobs think twice, seeing his past penchant for setting fires as a liability they don’t want to touch. Months pass with nothing. His grandmother has been barely squeaking by, managing his bills on top of her own expenses. With him home and only making things all the more expensive, the need for some kind of income drives him to extremes.

Kakashi, already graduated and working, tries to help him find something. He himself got a teaching degree, landing a literature gig at their old high school. By some grace, he convinces them to let Obito come on as a janitor. It’s...not much, but it’s something.

And by now, Obito’s learned to swallow his pride.

Three months of that first job pass before Life decides to throw him a curveball.

Home on a Saturday, Obito’s quietly peeling vegetables for dinner when a cab pulls up out front. Brow furrowing, he watches as someone gets out of the rear seat, packing a single bag. A sweatshirt’s hood is drawn, watching the car pull away before turning to the house and peeling the material back.

...it’s Ryū…!

Abandoning his task, Obito heads out the front door just as she passes the gate. There’s a small pause, and then they meet in the middle. Obito practically swallows her up in a hug, earning a laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” she breathes, doing her best to embrace him back. “I’ve been so busy, and only just heard you were out early…!”

“Kakashi didn’t…?”

“Look, it’s...a long story. Mind if we go inside, first? I have something I need to ask you.”

“Yeah, yeah...here, let me get that.”

“It’s just one bag! I can’t stay long. I, uh...technically snuck off.”

He gives her a questioning look, but she doesn’t elaborate, just heading inside. His grandmother wastes no time in giving her a hug of her own.

“Oh, it’s been so long, dear…!”

“I’m sorry...I’ve been so swamped the last few years. But it’s good to see you, Mrs. Uchiha.”

“Please, Sachiko is fine.”

“Here, I actually have something for you…” Ryū pulls an envelope out of her pocket, insisting, “Don’t open it until I leave, okay? It’s a surprise.”

Obito watches as they interact, noticing the rather glitzy outfit his friend is wearing. It feels like he’s...missing something.

But then she turns to him with a windblown smile. “Sorry, I’m all over the place...I’m a little lagged from the flight.”

“Flight?”

“Yeah, I...well, let me start at the beginning…”

“I’ll go make some tea and some snacks,” Sachiko then offers, toddling toward the kitchen. “You two talk.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Uchiha!” Taking a seat in the living room, Ryū seems to take a long moment to think.

“So, um...I dropped out of college.”

“What?”

“I was trying to major in nursing. And it, uh...wasn’t going well. But I was also taking some music classes, you know...since I loved theater and choir so much. I was posting some of my stuff to the net, covers of songs and stuff...and um...I ended up auditioning for that singing competition show.”

Obito just gapes.

“I got...pretty far. Semi-finals. And when I was voted off, I got picked up by a small label. Things just sort of...spiraled from there. I got a song on the radio, and views online skyrocketed, and now I’m…” She shrugs, looking sheepish with a blush. “I’m...a singer, now! I’ve done a few concerts, some music videos...and things don’t look like they’re going to slow down any time soon.”

“I...that’s amazing…! That must be why I haven’t...heard from you?”

Her face then falls. “...I’m so sorry...I had to move to the coast, and I’ve just been so busy...I kept meaning to write, but my agent didn’t want word getting out I was talking to a felon,” she mutters, looking frustrated. “Which...is why I had to sneak away to come see you. I’m tired of her strongarming me all the time.”

“...I guess I just...dunno what to say. I’ll admit I didn’t see that change coming.”

“I mean…” Ryū tucks some hair behind an ear, musing for a moment. “...part of me always wanted to try it. I’ve loved music and theater for a while. But I thought nursing would be more...practical. And follow my mom’s path. And I do sort of wish I’d stuck with it. I’d love to be helping people. But at the same time, as tough as this career can be...I’m pretty happy with it. And um...that leads me to my question.” She leans forward, arms braced on her knees. “...I heard from Kakashi you were having trouble with a job…?”

“I’ve got one for now, janitor at the school.”

“...do you like it?”

“It’s...a job.”

“...well...I wanted to offer you a new one.”

“Wh…? Me? But...for what?”

“My agent’s been a bit...worried lately. She’s convinced that I’m reaching a point where I should probably have some kind of security. Just in case someone tries to hurt me. Frenzied fans, or a stalker, or just...someone who gets it in their head. Y’know? So...I wanted to ask if you’d consider being my bodyguard.”

Obito stares at her.

“...I know it’s really random, and I don’t expect an answer now. But...well, I figured if I’m going to trust my life to someone, I want it to be someone I know. That I...trust.” Sorrow suddenly colors her features. “...I realize I haven’t been much of a friend. Life swept me away, and we haven’t talked in a few years. But...I do still care about you. And I thought it would be a good opportunity for you. It would pay really well, you’d get all sorts of benefits, and really it would probably be pretty easy most of the time. Just...think about it.” Dragging her eyes back to his face, she manages a small smile. “...it’d be great to be able to see you again.”

Rather overwhelmed, Obito reflexively jokes, “I think you’d get sick of me.”

“Oh, I doubt that. But...I just wanted to throw that out there for you. See what you think. And I don’t expect an answer now. I think I’ll be able to hide out in town a few days before my agent drags me back kicking and screaming,” she adds, grinning.

“...you really want me to...do that? You’d trust me with that?”

Her eyes flicker over his face for a moment. “...I would. More than anyone else. I got a really good look at your character when you were hurt, and...all the time after that. Court, and everything. It’s true, you had some issues...but they were born out of grief. I got a pretty good idea of who you really are. Besides that, you’re obviously strong, and attentive. I think you’d make a perfect bodyguard. But again, it’s only if you want it. No pressure, no expectations.”

Before he can reply, Sachiko returns at last with tea and some crackers. “I’m sorry, dear...I don’t have much in the cupboards.”

Something flashes across Ryū’s face. “No, no - that’s great! I skipped breakfast so I’m starved -”

“Oh! Then let me -!”

“No no, I’ve got it. This is good - my stomach’s a little wobbly after that flight. Tea and crackers is perfect, thank you.”

The old woman doesn’t look convinced, but takes a seat and a cup anyway. “So what’s this I hear about a job…?”

Obito explains it all again for her, and her eyes alight. “Oh, that sounds perfect…! You’re such a strong boy, and you’d be sure to keep her safe!”

That gets Ryū to smile warmly. “He was the first person I thought of for the job.”

“Surely you’ll do it, won’t you Obito?”

“I’ll...give it a little thought, first,” he replies evasively.

“Oh I’m sure he’ll do it. Just give him a minute to mull it over,” Sachiko insists, making Ryū laugh and Obito go pink.

“Well...I better find a hotel to crash in,” Ryū eventually offers, getting to her feet.

“Oh, won’t you stay, dear?”

“I don’t want to interrupt -”

“Nonsense! We’re happy to have you!”

“Well...Obito needs to do some thinking, and you need to open that envelope I gave you,” Ryū gently counters. “I’ll come back by tomorrow, how about that? Take you guys out to lunch or something. And we can talk some more. I sorta just...showed up, that was rude.”

“You’re welcome any time,” Sachiko insists, tottering after her as she moves to the door. “But it would be lovely to see you again tomorrow. Just give us a call!”

“I will.” Giving the elder a hug, Ryū then offers one to Obito, who accepts. “Think that over, huh?”

“Yeah...see you tomorrow.”

As she takes her leave, the remaining pair turn to one another, and then Sachiko brightens. “Oh, the envelope!” Fetching it from her pocket, she unfurls it and opens the flap, reading a small note before pulling out another slip of paper. Eyes widening, her face pales, and she almost collapses if not for Obito’s quick reflexes. “Oh...oh my goodness…”

“Grandma?!” Helping her to a chair, Obito takes the papers from her, first reading the note.

Just paying some good fortune forward.

I know how you can use this, so please

do. And no, I won’t take it back. Whatever’s

leftover after the two main expenses, you

keep to live on. Consider this me making

up for my absence, and all the time I owe

you both. And please...don’t show this to

Obito. I don’t want it swaying his decision.

I don’t want either of you to feel obligated

in any way. This is what I want to do.

Love,

Ryū

Looking to the second slip, Obito sees the set of zeros on the check and freezes. Two main expenses...she must mean the rest of his medical and legal bills…? But this...this is…

Looking close to tears, Sachiko manages a shaking sigh. “...first she helps save your life...and now this? Surely she’s an angel from Heaven...what a kind soul…”

Obito reads the note again, flipping it over but finding nothing on the back. Don’t show it to him, huh? Well...he’d surely find out one way or another. Sway his decision...about taking the job? Which way? Obligation to work for her to repay the debt, or to turn it down and refuse her further kindness? Either way...he’s shellshocked.

“...I’ll take the job,” he murmurs.

“I’d certainly hope so!” Sachiko replies, her own surprise managing to fade a bit as she sits up. “Now you listen to me! You keep that girl safe, Obito. No one can hurt her...such a sweet girl. I’ll...I’ll have to call the bank in the morning. Good gracious…” Mumbling to herself, she snatches back the papers, suddenly full of vigor as she leaves Obito behind.

After a long pause, he gives a single huff of a laugh. “...well, then.”

When Ryū calls the next morning, Sachiko gives her an earful, but the singer refuses to hear any complaints or refusals. Instead, she takes them out to lunch as promised, and Obito tells her his answer.

“And you’re doing this because you want the job, right? No other reason?”

He just nods. He does want the job. But maybe partially for a reason she wouldn’t like.

“...all right then. You can fly back to the coast with me, and we’ll get you all settled in. Mrs. Uchiha...I know you depend on him, and if you’d like, I could have you moved -?”

“Oh, nonsense. I raised my son in that house, lost my husband in that house...and took care of Obito there. There’s only one way I’m leaving it,” she insists. “I’ll be fine.”

“Would you like me to hire a careta-?”

“I can manage that well enough with what you gave me. I’m not a prideful woman...but there’s only so much I’ll allow.”

“Well...we’ll come visit as often as we can. And I’ll get you set up so we can facetime with you!”

“Face what, now?”

“...I’ll explain later.”

Obito packs up a few belongings, giving a rather teary goodbye to his grandmother as Ryū calls her agent. The exchange is clearly argumentative, but in the end it all seems settled.

“Not in trouble, are you?” he asks, perking a brow.

“I didn’t break anything in my contract,” Ryū replies with a wink. “So no. She’s mad I snuck out, but I didn’t have any other pressing obligations. And technically I did what she wanted: I hired a bodyguard!”

Obito just snorts.

One flight later, he finds himself in the big city, the next several days a blur of Ryū finding him an apartment, introducing him to the rest of her team, and getting all of the paperwork taken care of.

“So you don’t have to be with me all the time,” she eventually explains. “There will be plenty of times I’ll be in safe environments where others can keep an eye on me. Biggest things will be public venues, you know?”

“Okay…”

Ryū gives a sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll all sink in. I know what it is to be overwhelmed...I felt the same way when things started picking up for me.” Her expression then warms. “...I’m just...very glad you’re here. I feel safer already. Now...I have to go to practice for some choreography for an upcoming show...want to go with me?”

“Uh...sure.”

They head to a dance studio, where Ryū meets with her trainer, choreographer, and backup dancers. For several hours they run through the routine, step by step. Obito, with little else to do, lingers and watches. He has to admit...it’s impressive. And Ryū looks focused and driven, mouthing along with her track as they go.

By early evening they break for the day, everyone heading home save for Ryū, who hangs back to work on a section she’s struggling with. Sweat lines her brow, breath rushing as she rests between attempts.

“Ready to call it a night?”

“No...not yet…” Taking a swig of water, she sighs. “...few more tries.”

“I dunno how you keep that all straight.”

Glancing over, Ryū grins. “Practice. Lots and lots and lots of practice.” Setting her water aside, she asks, “...want to try?”

“What, me?”

“Yeah! Just a few steps, huh?” She gives him a grin, holding out hands.

“I’m a bodyguard, not a backup dancer,” he replies, nonetheless stepping up.

“Well maybe I’ll promote you if you dance well,” she teases. “Here...stand like this. The sequence is...one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.” With each number, she executes a move, doing so slowly at first.

“...uh…”

“We’ll go slow.” Holding a pose, she waits for him to mimic before moving to the next. Over and over, going a bit faster every time. “There, you’re getting it!”

“I’m a little stiff,” he laughs. “Scars and all that.”

“No, you’re doing really well! You’ve got good rhythm! Here, we’ll try with the music…” Playing the mp3, she helps him count out before they go through the little section. As Obito stops, she keeps on for a few more, including the part she’d been struggling with. “...okay, I think I got it! Finally, oh my gosh…”

As she stops and catches her breath, music still going, Obito listens. It’s pretty much your typical pop song, but...he likes it. If only because it’s her song. “...this is actually pretty good.”

“Heh, thanks...I’d like to do more ballad-style pieces. Fast, poppy stuff is okay. And it sells well. But I’d like to have something a bit more...theater-like.”

Obito shrugs. “Neither are really my genre…”

She laughs, insisting, “No, that’s fine! I’ll get you some earplugs, because otherwise you’re going to hear it a lot.”

“I don’t mind it if it’s yours.”

Ryū pauses at that. “...not biased, are you?”

“N...no.”

Her lips curl a bit in a grin, shutting it off. “...well...I’m gonna shower, and then indulge in some takeout. Wanna come with, or head home?”

“I’ll stay.”

They slip into a fast food joint, getting it to go and heading back to Obito’s place. It’s a hell of a lot nicer than he’d ever afford working that janitor job. Yet another thing he needs to thank her for…

They sit on the balcony, legs dangling through the railing as they munch fries. “...you know...this is the first time since I graduated high school I’ve really just...hung out with a friend.”

Obito glances to her. “...really?”

“Yeah. I was a loner in college, and then...well, good luck finding real friends in his business,” she sighs, indulging in another fry. “...that’s a big reason why I wanted you to take the job. I’ve been...really lonely. Maybe that was selfish of me.”

“You’ve been anything but selfish.”

“...maybe.”

“Hey. You literally saved my life. Twice, really. You flipped it upside down. I’d be scrubbing high school bathrooms right now if not for you.”

“I don’t want you to feel that way, though,” Ryū insists, turning to him with a wilted brow. “I didn’t do this out of...of pity, or wanting you to feel like you owe me. You’re my friend. And I’ve been really lucky. I just...want to share that luck with someone. Help them. And you were the one I wanted to help the most. And not just because of all the troubles you’ve faced. But because you’re a really sweet guy, Obito. I -” She cuts off, apparently catching herself before blurting something. “...I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t kidding - I feel safer with you around. For...a lot of reasons.”

“...yeah?”

“...yeah.” Looking into her empty fry cup, she then just...collapses against his side with a sigh. “...I know I’ve been a bad friend up until now. But I hope I can make it up to you.”

“...you already did. And then some.” Tentatively, he lets an arm encircle her shoulders. “...thanks for letting me be here.”

“...thanks for letting me drag you into this.”

“Any time.” Glancing down to her, Obito feels his stomach shift as she nestles a bit more comfortably against him, a weird warmth in his...chest…

...oh no.

Swallowing thickly, he then looks back up, watching the sky slowly darken, the city still bright with lights.

“You’re a really sweet guy, Obito. I feel safer with you around.”

He can’t help a small sigh. Oh, Obito...what are you getting yourself into…?

     (This is a follow-up to day four!)      I'm not...100% sure it was a good idea to have this verse continued from day four - it mighta worked better as a standalone with them as strangers, but...meh, oh well - maybe I'll do this sort of concept again sometime lol      I am.......a really big sucker for protector / protected dynamics in ships, okay. I've wanted to try it for a long while now. And the title just gave me the idea of a dance routine, WHICH fits the whole pop star AU pretty well! And I think Obito would make a really good bodyguard, honestly. He's both strong, AND - depending on the verse - also knows how 'bad guys' think...hence me tying it into day four, like he had some experience in jail to sort of know what to look for to help keep Ryū safe.      Anyway, III'm rambling lol - hope ya enjoyed! Thanks for reading!~

[serendipityswift]

first impressions of lover

ok i’m going to write down my first impressions to each of the songs; mostly for my own good and to get some of these feelings out 

i forgot that you existed: bop! girl is over everything that’s happened to her. it truly feels like her moving on from reputation. she’s still singing about what she sang about in rep, but it just feels lighter? she’s no longer hurting, she truly can’t give a shit about people who fucked her over anymore. 

fav lyric: in my feelings more than drake, so yeah 

cruel summer: single material if i’ve ever heard one! i swear to god if this is another getaway car situation omg... i fucking love this song so fucking much. like, it doesn’t sound sad, but once you hear the lyrics, damn it hurts. she still thinks she’s bad news, like her loving someone will only hurt that person... yeah, ouch. i think sometimes we forget how hard it must’ve been for her to get together with joe, to allow herself to open up again, but this song really shows it. definitely teared up knowing, even just half, of the situation she was in. 

fav lyric: i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you / devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes 

lover: one of my immediate favs on the album. for obvious reasons. my first impression was literally just sobbing lmfao, and being happier for her than i’ve ever really been for myself. 

fav lyric: with every guitar string scar on my hand i take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover 

the man: this was one of the song i was most excited for! and she absolutely did not disappoint. like, honestly, looking at her career and the way the media and people perceive her... just imagine if she was a man. look at how fucking successful she is, and the hate she gets, just imagine if she was a man? and it’s things every woman fears, it’s thoughts we all have. the lyrics are so smart and powerful and so, incredibly, true - even if society refuses to admit it. it’s like blank space, but even more mature and just so, insanely smart. also, her use of ‘bitch’ in this song? absolute genius. 

fav lyric: i’m so sick of running as fast as i can, wondering if i’d get there quicker if i was a man / if i was flashing out my dollars, i’d be a bitch not a baller 

the archer: immediately one of my favourite songs she’s ever put out, and still one of my favourites on this album. i’ve never related to a song so much before tbh, like, it may not seem like her saddest song ever, but when it describes everything you’ve been feeling for the last 4 years... it hurts more than any breakup song. the buildup and structure of this song is incredible, and i can’t stress how important it is to me enough. i want to cry every single time i listen to this song sigh, but i’m so grateful to finally have it into words. 

fav lyric: who could ever leave me darling, but who could stay? / all my heroes die all alone, help me hold onto you / they see right through me, can you see right through me? / all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put me together again / all of my enemies started out friends / cruelty wins in the movies, i’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches i almost said to you 

i think he knows: what a fucking bop omg. the sexual innuendos? yes. combined with the innocence? incredible. a little tongue and cheek, makes me smile and bop along to it. the lust and attraction and just all the cute feelings towards someone that we all know. 

fav lyric: lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh, we can follow the sparks, i’ll drive

miss americana and the heartbreak prince: ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SONGS ON THE ALBUM, ONE OF MY FAVOURITE SONGS OF ALL TIME. i sobbed my eyes out listening to it, sobbing listening to it again. it describes the fear we all felt in 2016, even someone living hours and hours and hours away in nz. the fear we felt for the world and those around us, the anger and fear we still feel every single day. it’s the pain we don’t know how to vocalise, scared we’ll say something wrong and literally get hurt. she’s so brave, this song is so brave. this song is metaphorically, lyrically and sonically incredible. it’s just insane. 

fav lyric: the whole school is rolling fake dice, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes / i’m feeling helpless, the damsels are depressed. boys will be boys then, where are the wise men?  

paper rings: what. a. fucking. bop. i can’t stop smiling and singing along even though idk the lyrics yet. also, all the references to old songs? and lowkey get fearless vibes but idk if i’m just too tired from it being almost 1am. i adore every single thing about this song. it’s realising you feel more for someone than you thought you did, then realising they’re the person you want to be with for the rest of your life. it’s literally everything. also, the stalking on the internet line? as relatable as any deepcut lyric she’s ever written. 

fav lyric: i like shiny things, but i’ll marry you with paper rings / i’m with you even if it makes me blue

cornelia street: i already knew this was coming, but this is 500% one of my favourite fucking songs of all time. sobbed my eyes out. still crying listening to this again for the second time. the references to other songs, the story of us? god. it describes everything you fucking feel when you just feel so damn much for a person. loving someone so much that a city becomes them, the city that she first arrived in single and represented her freedom. it now is him. when you love someone so fucking much that you know if, just if, they leave you; you’ll be broken forever. and it isn’t like every other time, it’s harder and they hold more of you than you ever thought someone could. it’s running because you’re so scared they’ll leave and you’ll lose everything, then coming back because you trust them enough to think that they’ll stay. but you’re still so fucking scared because they truly have all of you. 

fav lyric: i hope i never lose you, hope it never ends, i’d never work cornelia street again / sacred new beginnings that became my religion, listen 

death by a thousand cuts: i was mesmerised by this song. it’s a ‘happy’ sounding sad song. which i love. the juxtaposition of it all. also the entire second verse is literally one of my favourite things i’ve ever heard so tbh that entire verse is my favourite lyric. also, i kind of want someone to sing this as a sad ballad and see what it’s like ahahha 

fav lyric: my heart, my hips, my body, my love, trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch / our country, guess it was a lawless land / why are my fears at the touch of your hands? / paper cut stains from my paper-thin plans / my time, my wine, my spirit, my trust, trying to find a part of me you didn't take up / gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / i'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

london boy: ALL THE LONDON AND ENGLISH REFERENCES I CAN’T. as someone that lives in nz, the language she uses is so fucking funny and cute i can’t. also i keep thinking how ed taught her some of these things ahahha. and the nod to p!atd with “don’t threaten me with a good time” is so amazing. her reference to rugby? i’m taking all this luck by taylor and sending it to the all blacks thanks 

fav lyric: doesn't have to be louis v up on bond street just wanna be with you

soon you’ll get better: i already knew what this song was going to be about, but that didn’t stop my heart from literally shattering into a million pieces. andrea is so important to each of us, i cherish the day i met her and held her hand like no other, just imagine what she means to taylor. she was there when taylor had no one, when she felt so alone. andrea is so special, and it is just so fucking unfair that she needs to go through this. i hope, pray, anything that andrea can get better soon, make a full recovery. and i hope her entire family is okay. they’re all so loved, so incredibly loved. but, cancer, i just wish i knew how to beat it and can take all this pain away. i can’t even listen to it a second time right now because i’m too much of a wreck. that’s how much it hurts. i love taylor for sharing this with us. i love that taylor loves us enough to share this with us. 

fav lyric: but who am i supposed to talk to? what am i supposed to do if there is no you? / i’ll paint the kitchen neon, i’ll brighten up the sky, i know i’ll never get it, there’s not a day i don’t try 

false god: this is one of my favourite songs. it’s so perfectly simple. it’s exactly what this album needs. the religious references throughout this album is incredible, and the idea that their love itself is a greater force is so beautiful and incredible. it’s knowing that even though their love isn’t perfect, it’s what they choose. 

fav lyric: and i can't talk to you when you're like this, staring out the window like i’m not your favorite town. i'm new york city. i'd still do it for you, babe / and you can't talk to me when I'm like this, daring you to leave me just so i can try and scare you. you’re the west village. you still do it for me, babe 

you need to calm down: this beat cannot get unstuck from my head once it’s in there. and the music video is one of my favourites of all time, the amount of gay power? legendary. it’s not just about the lgbtq+ community though, it’s about everyone and acceptance and not caring about the shitty views around us, because they’re wrong and they don’t matter. it’s so wonderfully patronising to the ignorant people in the world and i love it. 

fav lyric: you would rather be in the dark ages making that sign, must’ve taken all night 

afterglow: i love this song, and i love how this is at the latter part of the album. it’s fighting knowing they’re the one for you, after knowing they’re your lover and paper rings. it’s taking responsibility for when you fuck up because you can’t stop your mind from spiralling. you can hear the anxiety in the lyrics and the pain knowing you’re hurting someone you love, but you can also hear the surety in the song that they’ll be okay, and that’s so fucking beautiful. 

fav lyric: why’d i have to break what i love so much?

ME!: taylor + panic i’m- they’re two of my favourite artists. this song by itself isn’t my favourite, but in the album, it suddenly all makes sense. this song is actually so catchy and uplifting and makes me smile. and it’s so weird listening to it without the “hey kids! spelling is fun!” ahhaha 

fav lyric: babydoll when it comes to a lover, i promise that you’ll never find another like me 

it’s nice to have a friend: this is so fucking cute i can’t even. i live for the simplicity of this. it’s just everything to me. the instrumental in the middle, the church bell sounds in the back, everything has changed mv vibes. mary’s song vibes. it’s so incredibly unique and special i love it. 

fav lyric: light pink sky up on the roof, sun sinks down, no curfew. 20 questions, we tell the truth

daylight: i’m so fucking proud of her. another song i sobbed my way through. she managed to write 3 years of experiences into less than 5 minutes. the references to red? she knew exactly how that will cut us, and how she once had this idealised, dramatic version of love. when she finally found the real deal, she realised it’s just golden. it’s light and different to anything she could’ve ever even imagined. it reminds me that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, even if i can’t always believe it. even though the darkness felt like 20 years for her, now she only sees daylight. not because things are perfect, but things are better. i can’t imagine a more perfect way for the album to end. 

fav lyric: i’ll tell you the truth but never goodbye / you are what you love / i once believed love would be burning red but it’s golden 

i can’t say whether lover is my favourite album yet, but it’s a special album that’s for sure. every song belongs there, and it tells a story unlike any she’s told before. there’s every spectrum of love on here, and everything just feels so real and personal; because she’s finally found the love she’s been writing about her whole life.  

[thesinglesjukebox]

TEGAN AND SARA - I'LL BE BACK SOMEDAY

[5.88]

We're the type who can't help but get critical...

Elisabeth Sanders: Before I heard this song, I (a bad lesbian, apparently) didn't know the premise of Tegan and Sara's upcoming album -- songs the two wrote in high school and recently rediscovered on old cassette tapes, re-recorded and slightly reworked. And, well, yeah, that's what it sounds like -- you can hear pop punk crawling its way into its ubiquitous early-aughts petulance with every sincere-but-slightly-whiny line. It radiates the adolescence of a very particular time in every earnest guitar strum, awkward line scansion and yearning lyric. It's sitting at the back of the bus with your discman thinking man, someday you're gonna get OUT of this town. Tegan and Sara have obviously evolved -- and improved -- tremendously as songwriters since they were teens, but there's something very pure about going back to that moment, not as an elevated nostalgic reproduction, but to the actual, embarrassing, squeaky heart of it. [6]

Kalani Leblanc: I have no nostalgic attachment to Tegan and Sara, making it hard to find a redeemable point to this song. Reworked or not, the production and lyrics still ring immature and dated. Maybe I'm not the right person to have an opinion on this because I just found out they're twins (TWINS?????) but I'm having a hard time not imagining "I'll Be Back Someday" in a straight-to-DVD teen movie mall sequence. This fact is one they're completely aware of, and they're marketing the track as exactly that, but this doesn't make me miss 2008, high school, or images of high school in 2008 (if anything, I'm now thankful it's over if this is what it had to offer). Some things are best kept to yourselves, Sara and Tegan. [3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: This has all the awkward phrasing I associate with early Tegan and Sara (charming except on the second verse, which just feels contrived), and the chug of those guitars is a welcome pivot from the synthy morass that the duo had immersed themselves in. The hook itself is compelling, the kind of desperate plea that the sisters' voices carry so well. Yet the whole thing feels a little hollow, possibly due to the conceit of the project: how would you sound singing your teenage drafts in your late 30s? [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Incredibly precocious hook-writing for a couple of teenage kids! Lyrics, not so much. I generally love artists covering their juvenilia, but the effect relies on there being the juvenilia public, to have listened to. And even as juvenilia goes, this is no "Raise the Roses." [6]

Alfred Soto: They mastered this queer power pop. Now they'll die with it. [5]

Ian Mathers: Heartthrob was and is great, but I can't pretend for a second to be disappointed with this return to angsty power pop. Now, if they can figure out how to integrate the two... [7]

Will Adams: As much as I still enjoy Heartthrob, it wasn't long before Tegan and Sara's synthpop era became watered down pleasantness, as was the case with so many Greg Kurstin collabs of this nature. This return to power pop is heartening, both as an electrifying return to form and a nod to the duo's origins. Because it's an early song, there's some writing oddities they've since outgrown, like the awkward melisma in the drawn out "lie." But there's still plenty to latch onto, like the infectious "Run! Run! Run! Run!" chorus that recalls "Back In Your Head." [7]

Vikram Joseph: Reading that Tegan and Sara's forthcoming album would consist of reconstructed versions of songs and lyrics from their teenage years was anxiety-inducing in several ways -- not just because it stoked concerns that they might be running short of ideas, but also because I love the 2013-present era of the band so goddamn much and taking several steps backwards seemed, well, regressive. I hoped, though, that their charm would sell their teenage dreams and adolescent trauma without it feeling recycled, and for the most part it does, aided and abetted by deliciously crunchy production (which never shies away from the electronic pop touches that defined Heartthrob and Love You To Death) and the obvious sixth sense for pop songwriting they've developed over the decades. The verses bubble and foam like a frothy sea, the chorus locks itself into a headlong pop-punk death spiral, and the way they stretch out "to the end, my friend, oh what a LIII-I-III-I-IIIIIIE!" sparks so much joy. The lyrics, inevitably, lack the sharp, poignant detail of much of their recent work, but "I'll Be Back Someday" is just a great deal of fun, and that's reassuring enough for now. [7]

[Read and comment on The Singles Jukebox]