#overanalysing musicals

[musicalreader17]

Sometimes I wonder if I’m overanalysing bare but then I listen to Epiphany and start thinking about the foreshadowing and then I think I’m not overanalysing this show enough

[kmesons]

paul's last words were "I don't... like... musicals!" before being consumed by the hive. with this in mind, I think the title of the guy who didn't like musicals could be taken not just as a statement describing paul's past state (i.e. he did not like musicals previously, but now does) but also as a kind of sarcastic eulogy; here lies paul matthews, the guy who didn't like musicals. from this perspective, "the guy who didn't like musicals" isn't talking about a guy who, in the past, didn't like musicals. it's talking about a guy, in the past, who didn't like musicals. he's dead now, the hive mind is saying to us. he's dead, and those were his last words. the central brain inhabits his body now. the brain likes musicals. the guy who didn't like musicals is pokey's jeering requiem for paul matthews, the man who lost.

[cindytoast404]

something about the lighting being lavender in this scene idk (i have too many thoughts about this show)

[parttimesiffrinfulltimeproblem]

song analysis of michael caine by madness in relation to siffrin!!

[plain text of title: song analysis of michael caine by madness in relation to siffrin!!]

having recently gotten into ISAT and spent considerable time with my qpp discussing songs that fit siffrin, I've come to the conclusion that it is SUCH a sif song. PLEASE hear me out on this (ive no idea if theres an overlap between isat fans and random british ska band fans but if there is then hi!)

putting this under a read more both because its gonna be long and contain spoilers for pretty much the whole deal with ISAT. also apologies if I fail to pick up my autocorrect making me type 'saffron'

okay so. chronologically through the song theres just a Lot that makes me think of him. this may entirely be a reach but im too big a fan of this song to mind :]

'he's walking where I'm afraid I don't know/I see the firemen jumping from the windows/there's panic and I hear somebody scream'-- immediately the sense of disorientation and confusion that goes throughout both the song and siffrin. also the lack of subjects in the last line (who's panicking/screaming?) further gives this sort of like. unanswered questions that I think really fits sif and their whole. deal

'he picks up useless paper and puts it in my pocket'-- this is sif in the sense of how throughout the loops they become far more disillusioned with how much anything really matters. it all starts to pale in comparison to escaping the loop, and this especially resonates with the complete tunnel vision in the final loop. ALSO the inconsistencies in the entire song between first and third person remind me of the recurring ideas of like. identity and losing touch with yourself throughout the game. idk. im not sure if that's the case with the actual meaning of the song but yknow

'he can't remember tell me what's his name'-- themes of identity and memory and losing yourself. yeah.

AND THE CHORUS ITSELF IDK. 'and all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home'-- obviously the photograph thing but that's very literal, plus the idea of 'home' both in the song and in ISAT. also the 'all I wanted' alluding to regretting whatever caused the loop? which obviously creates the sense of his wish only being to have some stability and not. Yknow. a massive time loop. but hey ho

'the sun is laughing, it's another broken morning'-- loop. sun/star comparisons to be drawn, and the connotations of 'broken morning' in the context of being forced back to the same morning (or should I say, afternoon? [: ) repeatedly. also the connotations of 'another' as something trapping you/repeating ad infinitum AGH its so siffrin

'I see a shadow and call out to try and warn him, he didn't seem to hear just turned away'-- this reminds me of the whole like. futility of sif not being able to meaningfully help the others and just,,,,, agh,,,

'he had to sacrifice his pride, yes, throw it all away'-- further themes of a loss of an integral part of identity. I see this through the lens of siffrin's attempts to leave the loop becoming more and more desperate to the point of willing to compromise anything (of himself) for escape. fun!!

'his days are numbered, he walks round and round in circles'-- Oh You Know. repetition and never finding escape. siffrin..... aside from the whole time loop deal this line is fun to me in this interpretation of 'his days are numbered' but as the different iterations of the loop growing in frequency as opposed to the traditional use of 'days being numbered'. idk I just love flipping idioms

'there is no place he can ever call his own'-- again the themes of identity and home (or lack thereof). sif having nowhere to return to is suchhh an inciting theme of the whole game and this just completely summarises that. I also especially note the 'very' and how it finalises the whole thing; his country is gone, his memories are gone, and unless Something stops it, his family will be gone as well. I need to lie down.

'staring out the window there's nothing he can do now/all he wanted was to remain sane/he can't remember his own name'-- final verse before the last choruses and dear lord. siffrin. again with just the whole,,, memory and desperation and resignation. one very very reaching bit of analysis here is the shift in pronouns/person between the 'I can't remember tell me what's his name' and 'he can't remember his own name'; the forgetting of the name switches from an external thing that almost doesn't hold much weight to something symbolising a complete loss in self. if I'm then applying this to sif's character arc, I think this really just shows how their relationship with memory becomes more fraught and more of a source of stress throughout the game.

SO!!! I absolutely adore both in stars and time and this song, and just think it fits him so well. do you see my vision

[always-a-joyful-note]

Okay but in honour of Artistic Partisan being released on engstars, I'm going to be very self-indulgent and talk about how Hell Screen (source) coded it is. And yes I'm talking about Akutagawa Ryunosuke's short story about the (spoilers to come) painter obsessed with art and his beloved daughter who got sacrificed in all sorts of ways (then died) in order to inspire him to paint a scene of the Buddhist hell at the commission of his shady patron.

I mean, maybe it's just me but I think Artistic Partisan perfectly captures that line between obsessive creation and passionate artistry, flip flopping back and forth as the line "si vis artem, para bellum" (play on the latin "si vis parcem, para bellum" if you want art/peace, prepare for war) is chanted in the midst of it all. Like how could that not capture the artist's desire for eternity, longevity, beauty while also having the both threatening but invoking intense melody that gives it that edge of action and danger? It's so Hellscreen in the way that Hellscreen is a very bleak depiction of the battle that is art (with questionable beauty being produced but a definite masterpiece of expression regardless). Yes, the artist wants to live forever but, be warned, because the world of art is not one of peace. It is filled with blood and sacrifice and battles. Artistic Partisan is the warning song (but also a praise, almost, of art), Hellscreen is the story of the song ignored (but still proof of how war really does create art).

Just....man. They went hard on this one. If you want art, prepare for war indeed.

[mercury-sappho]

The Beatles are like the Taylor swift of liking old music

[beckmessering]

please please if we’d ever get a ring tv series, i just want one scene of fricka and brünnhilde sitting at whatever walhall’s equivalent of a kitchen table is, and fricka’s looking fine and proper, and brünnhilde is like 14 and fully covered in blood and dirt and sitting in front of the leftovers, stuffing her face because she just lugged a bunch of dead heroes up to walhall, and wotan’s very happy with her and the Favourite Daughter(TM) serotonins are kicking in, but a girl is hungry after that, ok, even if it’s like 5am. in the background there are sounds of wotan reading the new heroes the house rules, and wotan’s wife-who-is-not-her-mother is there, so brünnhilde’s trying to stuff her face as respectfully as possible. and fricka is. not happy with all of this but she also keeps looking at brünnhilde with minor dismay about the fucking state of her clothing (there is not a single inch of clean fabric on that girl. her armour is in a desperate state, completely mud-crusted, dirtying the floor. also, it should be forbidden to reek of blood in an effing kitchen) and major dismay that’s directed at her husband for 1) being a lying cheating bastard who has his illegitimate children eat leftovers in front of her nose and 2) having his kids do this. and fricka’s just looking at brünnhilde the whole time and her face says you’re too young for this. you shouldn’t be doing this. you have no idea what he’s making you do. you shouldn’t be seeing dead bodies every night. you shouldn’t be seeing men die. you shouldn’t know what kind of blow will kill a man faster than a different one, and how to strike both, and how to carry a corpse over your shoulder. you’re too young. far too young.

due to his refusal to follow brünnhilde to walhall, we will regrettably likely not get the scene where fricka properly sees siegmund for the first time and realises he’s actually also still half a kid and too young for everything

[romancegarbagee]

to be completely honest, at the end of the day i just dont really respect (most) career youtubers lmao. ive never been into youtube like that. that being said, i respect joji immensely for doing his thing on yt while he was in college, graduating and then putting an end to it on his own terms to follow his true passion. i love filthy frank but i will never understand the people who think he should have continued doing it or that he should come back. way too many people act like a youtube channel is like a life sentence or something and its so weird.

[tristemegiste]

actually hate that i like the 80s megamusical alw self insert adaptation more than the uh ‘proper literature probably ambiguous and complex and underappreciated also not overromanticised’ original book. i can’t even be cool now within the fanbase and i also can’t get on with anyone. can’t even take myself seriously because i sound salty

(not having a go at anyone by the way. just myself)

[rabbitblackx]

Hi! How are you? I hope you're doing well :D

So I have an idea I've thinking about

Since my dream job is to be a psychologist, I thought about how slashers would react to their s/o working as a psychologist / psychotherapist (for Michael, Brahms, Freddy and Jason please)

Thanks in advance

Have a good day / night!

Hope ur doing well too! :) sorry for the wait I’ve been a bit busy and uninspired, but things are starting to look up! Have a great day xoxo

Slashers with a Psychologist!Reader

Includes: Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger and Brahms Heelshire

Michael Myers💖

Michael hated you at first. Well, it wasn’t much different now. He… now tolerated you…? At best? Anyway, he hated how you overanalysed every little thing he did. It was hard not to, seeing how beyond batshit he was

Like, how dare you try to make Michael feel better?! >:( That was the worst thing you could do to him! You reminded him of Loomis. Although, you were way more attractive… and cute… and sexy

Michael didn’t want to like you, but there was just something about you. He was always gonna be a bad guy, but you somehow bettered him. He was instantly more calm in your presence and even your home. Your furnishings and belongings were purposely placed to give the space a peaceful vibe

If you were lucky, Michael could really fall apart on you. He had his head in your lap, completely motionless. You were worried he was about to die or something, but no… you just made him feel

Jason Voorhees💖

Jason didn’t believe in your therapy. He dismissed and brushed off any words of comfort you gave him. There was nothing you could’ve said that would make him not feel the way he did. He kept you around though… maybe just because he liked the sound of your voice

Sometimes your wise words stuck with Jason when he was by himself. He was kicking himself for it, but maybe you were right? Perhaps your therapy made him feel better?

When Jason was angry, he used to break things. Now, he sat across from you and listened to you talk. You gently praised him for doing so, proud at how far he had come

Jason found himself craving your presence more and more. You made him feel okay. You may have thought he was becoming codependent, but he didn’t care. Your caring words and methods made him latch onto you

Freddy Krueger💖

No, no, no. Don’t try and overanalyse a bunch of bullshit about Freddy. That didn’t work on him. At least that was what he told himself. He acted like your wise words and kindness had no affect on him, but he grumbled about how sweet you were to himself later

Your dreams were Freddy’s favourite. Amazingly, they were no nightmares. It was just the two of you in the comfort of your office. He found the way you sat so straight in your chair, the way you focused hard on jotting down your notes… so cute

Freddy wasn’t too keen on telling you about his problems. He was much more interested in just looking at you. Sexy, smart you… he could’ve just eaten you up

It was pretty obvious, but Freddy tried to get you to hug or hold him often. He was a pretty bad actor, begging you for sympathy. You felt none, but still snuggled him anyway. You told him he was touch starved, and he hated that. Truth hurt

Brahms Heelshire💖

Brahms sat obediently across from you in the living room. He listened to every word you said, shyly nodding along when necessary. He had a long way to go, but you could really of made a difference on him

You wouldn’t give up on Brahms, and he loved you for that. You told him often that you were sticking with him, and that you would never leave. It was music to his ears. It was all he ever wanted

You could make him cry sometimes. Not on purpose, just when talking about touchy subjects. Brahms didn’t mind though, because you always cuddled up and gave him a hug. And as he cried on your shoulder, he realised that you were his whole world

Brahms had serious issues that you knew needed to be dealt with. It was just so hard to have the heart. He was clinging to you, tearfully begging you to stay and take care of him forever. How could you say no? How could you distance yourself? You never had a patient that tore you apart as much as this man

[wonder2realities]

having trouble with manifesting physical results?

when it comes to manifestation, i feel like everyone acts like theres a limit and usually that limit revolves around physical changes. "you cant lose weight unless you work out AND listen to subliminals, you have to put in the work!!!" — what if i were to tell you that you can manifest literally any physical change without even moving? you probably wouldnt believe me because of the idea that you need to "work" to earn something...and yet with all of the physical changes i've manifested, i havent "worked" for anything. how? here's a little list of the rules i stick by !

1. SHAMELESSNESS IS KEY!

i'm someone who gets embarrassed very easily, over the smallest things but when it comes to manifesting anything...you gotta be shameless. yes i am waking up with a BBL and a 2-inch waist, what about it. you can pull up to my house, with scientific evidence of how thats not possible but idc cuz its happening. infact, it ALREADY happened "but you look the same" idc it still happened. like literally, no matter what its happening and its happened and it will happen ; whether it be past future or present point is ITS THERE.

2. YOU ARE ENERGY, NOT YOUR BODY

this ones a bit hard to word out but essentially, your physical body doesnt make up what you are. meaning, you can view yourself as this ball of energy that can be stretched and pulled out and morphed into everything and anything.

so lets say you want a symmetrical face :

1. dont go overanalysing your face, just sit down & take it easy

2. think of how your symmetrical face that youve always had. i mean you could honestly be a model, your facial structure is amazing. and just allow yourself to sink into those thoughts, whether its through you repeating affirmations or through subliminals — let it all sink in that your face is symmetrical. having doubtful thoughts? let them fly past, dont cling onto them. just allow yourself to sink deeper into the fact that your face is perfectly symmetrical.

3. acknowledge it and live with it. dont go eyeing your mirror and reflection every 2 seconds, dont go panicking and repeating affirmations nonstop and stressing...just acknowledge it and go on with your day.

^ its that easy. you dont need to even see your physical body morphing into it, the point is that you are able to morph and change into whatever you wish because you are not limited to your physical body.

3. NO OVERCOMPLICATIONS

you dont need to do a 40 minute workout to make sure you get results, you dont need to drink 3L of water, you dont need to write down 500 affirmations, you dont need to do a 20step skincare routine if you want to make sure you get clear skin...if you want to do these things, do them as much as you wish to. do you have to? no.

when i was younger, i got a bad injury and because of that one of my cheekbones were larger than the other — through manifestation they look identical now. like as in, if i were to tell you the injury i got into and said "my cheekbone was larger and there was a huge line under it" youd think i was making it up (sidenote : i had to show someone my passport photo from when i was like 8 to prove that i had that injury 😭 CUZ THEY DIDNT BELIEVE ME.) and mind you, i didnt even have a routine - my routine was literally just playing cute subliminals , vibing to the music and then going to sleep. i promise you, you dont need to do any form of "work" to get what you desire.

4. GO WITH YOUR GUT

probably the most important thing i stick by, i always go with my gut. meaning, if i feel like i can listen to a 5 second subliminal and i got it - i leave it there. i dont force anything, i dont push myself into anything and i dont do anything that someone else does if it doesnt vibe well with me. (this also means if youre reading this and going "this doesnt really work with me" - thatll be better than you forcing yourself to follow these rules just because these have worked for me). you need to always remember that when it comes to manifesting things, your preference comes first. so, if you wanna run 5 miles and that helps you believe that you have gotten your desires - do it.

5. DONT LET OTHERS GET TO YOU

if youre minding your business and youre talking abt your desires and someone goes "erm...🤓👆🏽 thats...not possible" - instead of secondguessing yourself literally ignore them. the concept of whats possible and whats real all boils down to what you BELIEVE is possible/real. the only reason something could not be possible or not be real is you believe it isnt, or you letting someone else who doesnt believe in it take over your beliefs (obviously this specifically applies to manifestation and not things that are tied to disorders or any form of unhealthy thinking. dont take my words out of this context.)

and thats all ! obviously i have other parts of my mindset that arent mentioned here that help me manifest faster and easier but it would take too long for me to get into everything </3 but consider these my 5 golden rules that will hopefully help anyone whos struggling with physical results.

rmbr that you are forever limitless & changing ★

[sangahnomiya]

silly goofy AU where furina is fontaine's number 1 idol and neuvillette is her bodyguard OSIEUEHEHSHFHFHF,, he's got a secret fan acc where he beefs with her haters so real so true

neuvillette's most likely that one stan acc who can and WILL overanalyse her MVs and her song lyrics like he's critiquing classic literature. he (unintentionally) became famous in the fandom for it and all of her fans run to his acc as soon as there's a new release. (he also has an advantage bc furina is always too happy to go into detail about her music and will ramble about her artistic choices)

as a bodyguard, he probably has the rep of being really intimidating and he won't hesitate to keep her safe. BUT at the same time his stan acc username is probably something surprisingly cutesy (otterfuri or furipyonpyon or something like that KAJSJSHFHG)

also idol AU! furina where neuvillette is driving her home after one of her shows and she pesters him to get jollibee drivethru. then they just sit in the parking lot and munch quietly

I just think they should get to sit and eat together quietly!!!!!

[augustshouldbewriting]

fans start to notice wik always wears either a choker or a very specific silver necklace - a delicate chain with a small o-ring. in the last few months, he hasn't been seen without something around his neck.

a few fans begin to theorise they are day collars, that wik is a collared sub. twitter threads are created, photos are compiled. people overanalyse the one wik music video where he's cuffed (it's espionage themed, but he's in cuffs!!)

chay, looking through his old fandom account, sees these theories on his timeline. he rolls over and kisses kim's cheek:

"your fans are far too perceptive"

[doodles-and-memes]

OK GUYS, I just got a theory about the unused board of the Devil and King Dice walking happily arm-in-arm :

Lookat'em gays

I can't be the only one to think it's a perfect parallel image of the cupbros walking arm-in-arm in the opening...

I MEAN- It's the same angle, the same facial expressions and the same postures !

Season 1b spoilers under the cut

You all noticed the music changed in the end credits of the last episode, The Devil's pitchfork, after Mugman got kidnapped. It is dramatic, ominous, sad and sinister and I HATE THAT.

Cuphead is left alone with his regrets and guilt.

My theory is: since we got an alternate version of the end credits for Season 1b, we'll get to see an alternative opening for season 1c.

In this version we could see Cuphead facing danger alone, without Mugman to save his butt -Chalice might be here to help though- because he is gone. And instead of the "Yes we're looking for fun" part with the bros, we'll get to see the Devil and King Dice laughing happily and maniacally because they got their sweet sweet revenge on Cuphead. The song could go this way

What if we don't see our boy flying around Cuphead's head in his little plane at the very beginning ??

I always thought this shot was interesting btw, because while funny, it kinda shows the strong bond they share I think ? Mugman is never to far away from Cuphead, always in his mind, following him in his adventures (symbolized by the plane). Mugsy is most of the time the brain of the two and on top of everything, he is Cuphead's little voice of reason (circling around his head) !

Oh wow. Now that's depressing Q_Q

I might have overanalysed

I'm made myself terribly sad, so I'm dragging you all with me 😭😭

[abiiors]

In Stages

For @alien-princess-v and @nowujustlooklikeanyone who requested similar George fics, so I thought I would combine them into one big piece. I hope you enjoy this :)

Also inspired by “I've been in love with her for ages / And I can't seem to get it right / I fell in love with her in stages / My whole life”

Five times he almost confessed + the one time he finally did

some angst but a happy ending, female reader, alcohol, weed etc.

wc: 6k

For as long as George can remember, he has been a coward. No really, every time he sees you hanging out with Matty and the rest of your friends, he wonders if this is it, if this is the right time. He has never felt so uncharacteristically shy around anybody before. But George feels absolutely tongue-tied when you’re in the room simply existing. 

The house party they’re throwing has taken a bit of a wild turn. Raucous laughter drowns out the sound of music in the room, a playlist that George agonised over for weeks that’s now just being treated as background music. 

‘God, you two are disgusting,’ you’re laughing at Matty and his girlfriend and he watches from a distance as his best friend blushes and slaps away your hand. 

The genuine happiness on all three of your faces makes his heart ache, makes him feel a little like an outsider. Especially since you’re primarily the cause of Matty’s happiness right now; what with you introducing him to the girl he’s now in love with. 

‘Come on, mate,’ Matty waves him over, ‘why are you sulking in the corner?’

He is sulking a bit, that’s true, but he still makes a face when Matty mentions it. 

‘What’s up with you?’ you ask and turn your body to him as soon as he sits down. He is wildly aware of the fact that your knees are touching; his covered in some old jeans, yours bare seeing as how the dress you wear ends around your thighs. And so he is very aware of the fact that he could be touching you if he slightly moved his hand. 

‘Hello?’ you wave your hand in front of his face. ‘Ground control to Major Daniel,’ you speak in a sing-song voice and he laughs a bit at the reference. 

‘Sorry,’ he feels a bit embarrassed for zoning out on you, ‘sorry, it’s been a long day.’

‘Something getting wasted can’t solve?’ you quirk an eyebrow and extend your glass to him. A red solo cup full of cheap beer. A party full of cliches. But he takes a sip of it gratefully and then cringes at the taste. 

‘This is disgusting!’

‘Don’t go all bougie on me now, Daniel. I’ve seen you drink much worse stuff.’ 

He laughs. Because he always laughs when you’re even remotely funny, he can’t help himself. Matty, seemingly bored of the conversation, pulls his girlfriend off his lap and whisks her away to the dance floor. George tries to ignore the pang of longing he feels. How is it so easy for his friend to simply just…ask?

Ask you to set him up with her. 

And then ask her to be his girlfriend. 

And ask her to dance with him; swaying to their own tune in spite of the fast-paced song.  

He looks away, clears his throat for some courage. ‘Let’s go up to the rooftop.’ 

‘Trying to get me all alone? Oooohhh,’ you waggle your eyebrows at him suggestively and he’s suddenly made aware of how tipsy you actually are. He simply rolls his eyes and tries to stop the words from bubbling up. 

Yes, he’s trying to get you all alone. Because he just wants to keep you for himself so he could go to bed with you next to him and wake up with you in his arms and he wouldn’t get irrationally jealous seeing you talking to other men because he would know you’re coming home to him at the end of the day. 

‘Yes, I’m trying to solicit you,’ he replies, hiding his true intentions under sarcasm, ‘now will you come with me?’

So you go, up and up the spiral staircase holding his hand and giggling all the way in anticipation. He suspects it has more to do with the drugs and the alcohol in your system than the fact that he’s funny. He has barely spoken a word tonight without overanalysing it at least ten times. 

‘Are you going to tell me the names of the stars and woo me?’ you sway from side to side, dance away from his grip when he comes any closer. He wonders if it’s a game to you, if you simply like the chase, the thrill of it. And he’s willing to walk to the ends of the earth if all you give him is one sign. 

‘I won’t need to give you astronomy lessons to woo you’ he laughs, tries to keep his tone casual. 

It’s all quiet up here. The sounds of the party downstairs are so muffled, as if you are under some blanket. A space only for the two of you. 

‘My, my George,’ you gasp, ‘are you flirting with me?’

Have been for the past six months, he thinks somewhat bitterly but settles on shaking his head in exasperation. He is, perhaps, slightly tipsier than he thought but he’s not exactly inebriated. So when you grab your hands in his, and try to twirl him around, he simply lets you. 

‘It’s lovely up here,’ you close your eyes for a brief moment and breathe in the fresh air. ‘It’s nice being with you.’

His head spins a bit at the words that have just come out of your mouth. At the way your hands are fisting in his shirt.

If this were a romance movie, he would see a shooting star right about now; crashing, hurtling towards the ground at full speed. He would wish upon it, wish for the girl he’s always wanted. Then you would look at him through your eyelashes, tilt your chin up, perhaps even get on your tiptoes to reach him better. But you wouldn’t have to. Because he would already be there, leaning in and closing the distance between you two. And you would maybe gasp softly and pull him closer still. Unwilling and incapable of pulling away from him. 

Instead, you stumble. 

And instead of the shooting star, it’s his hopes and wishes that come crashing down. 

He’s not drunk but you definitely are. 

‘Alright, then,’ he sighs in resignation. ‘Let’s just sit down before you hurt yourself.’

And right there on the rooftop, with your backs against the wall and your head on his shoulder, he thinks that maybe this is nice. Maybe he can settle for this intimacy for now; having your side pressed against his, softly humming along to the echos of the song downstairs. It’s so out of tune and bad but he still wishes he could bottle up this sound. Keep it only for himself. 

Slowly, the humming stops, replaced by sounds of deep, even breathing. All the courage it took him to bring you up to the rooftop so he could finally kiss you, all of it leaves him in a rush, leaves him weary. So he simply sticks to pressing a lingering kiss on your head. A sweet, chaste, friendly kiss. Just like he always has. 

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

George’s heart is pounding. And you’re not the reason this time. 

He can’t stop thinking and overthinking all the last-minute changes to the setlist, all the small gaps where he can mess up and derail the whole show. The rest of the guys seem fine. The rest of them are devouring a large pizza as if they haven’t eaten in days. And he can’t bring himself to even think about food. 

‘You look like you’re gonna throw up.’ Your voice jerks him out of yet another mini-spiral. 

How could he forget you were going to watch the show today? Their biggest show yet that Matty was so excited for that he made sure to invite you, personally, three times. 

Not that George doesn’t want you there, he actually really loves it when you cheer on him (and the rest of the band but he’s allowed to indulge in his daydreams a bit) but today it feels like just one more thing that might set him off. Just one more, really important person he could mess up in front of.

‘Everything alright?’ you ask again, hand on his shoulder and urging him to look at you which he simply cannot. He knows what you will see is someone on the brink of losing it. ‘George…talk to me.’

It’s the way you say his name that makes him swallow roughly. ‘’m sorry,’ he mumbles, ‘just a bit nervous.’ He tries his best to give you a reassuring smile but the most he can manage is a shaky and wobbly grimace. ‘We’ve never played a venue this big before. I don’t know why the rest of them aren’t shitting themselves right now.’ 

‘That’s not the case, love,’ you try to reassure but he’s not listening to anything right now. He hasn’t even registered the term of endearment. Instead, he feels himself grow more and more agitated with each passing second. His knee bounces in place, his fingers fidget with one of his bracelets and he tries to control the urge to just scream out loud. 

He’s still going on and on about the setlist change and how he’s not sure of his setup and how he’s going to mess up which is going to make Matty mess up which is going to turn the concert into a shitshow when you move to kneel down in front of him and grab his face in your hands. And that instantly stops him mid-spiral. 

‘Shut up for one second, will you?’ you ask sternly but your hold on his face is gentle. 

‘Make me?’ 

He regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth. What the fuck was his plan with that one? It’s not like you’re going to kiss him senseless and make him forget about everything for just one moment. This isn’t a movie. 

And the way your eyes go wide and your breathing gets uneven is proof of that. 

‘Sorry,’ he mumbles quickly and stands up to put some distance between you, ‘sorry, don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean it like that.’ He speaks in a rush, scared that he might have made things awkward. But you simply shake your head and make your way to him. 

The clock is ticking. They are supposed to be on stage in ten minutes. Adam cracks a joke that makes the rest of them laugh and George paces a bit more. It’s not like him to feel this nervous. Maybe he’s just having a bad trip, a bad day. 

The sound of the crowd does nothing to hype him up. Instead, it only serves as a reminder of what’s at stake. 

‘George shut up and listen to me,’ you take his face between your palms again. ‘You have done this dozens of time before. You made these songs, love. They are a part of you. You’re not going to mess up. Matty, Ross and Adam are not going to mess up. And these,’ you lightly tap on the IEMs hanging around his neck, ‘there are people to give you your cues.’ 

You’re right, he’s nodding along because he knows you’re right. 

‘Can I hug you?’ you ask tentatively, ‘do you think it would help?’

And maybe that’s just what he needs right now. A hug from his favourite person in the world. So he wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Your comforting scent washes over him, something he’s more aware of than his whole body. For a second he can simply let himself imagine that this is his life. That when you step back, he will tell you how lucky he’s to have you, that he loves you and you will say it back. 

Instead, he hears Adam calling for him to come over.

‘Thank you,’ he smiles, actually manages to do it this time. ‘Thanks, I feel a bit better.’ 

‘Don’t worry about it,’ you grin up at him. ‘You’re going to be amazing! And the ladies are going to go wild for you. Besides, I’ll be here cheering for you. That’s what friends are for.’

Friends. Yeah. He would have thought that time would dull the sting that word brings but that's clearly not the case. 

‘Good luck, okay?’ you whisper, get on your tiptoes and press a quick kiss to his cheek. Your lips are soft, warm. So close to his mouth that he simply stops functioning for a second. 

‘Come on, mate, now!’ Ross shouts. It really is showtime but how is he supposed to step away?

It’s only when you step back to go to the others and give them all a good-luck hug that he gathers himself. 

Just like you said, the show goes great. It’s actually flawless, garners rave reviews. The next day there’s a semi-viral photo of him with a lipstick smudge on his cheek. People online tease and speculate. And he simply wishes he could go back in time and finish what you started.

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

George giggles slightly at the look on your face. The boyish sound is so at odds with the rockstar persona he’s got going on at the moment. You, on the other hand, can’t quite believe your eyes. 

The world around you is bathed in golden light. There’s a blue blanket on the rooftop and not just that, there’s a whole picnic basket on the rooftop. There are bottles of pop and alcohol, and weed, of course, weed. Because where there’s George, there’s always some amount (usually large amounts) of weed. 

‘What is this?’ you ask incredulously; a tone of surprise and elation coats your voice and he feels a little pang in his chest. 

‘Surprise?’ he opens his arms wide like an enthusiastic talk-show host. ‘You didn’t think we wouldn’t find out about the promotion, did you?’

George beams as the realisation hits you. Just because he doesn’t work a conventional job doesn’t mean he’s completely oblivious to the hard work that goes into it. And he knows how much you have wanted this from the bottom of your heart. Although he would never admit to how he found out about it. He’s supposed to be a cool, aloof rockstar, he’s not supposed to be scrolling through the instagram page of a company to look at photos of you in your element. 

‘It’s not much,’ he admits sheepishly. 

But his breath gets knocked out of him when you launch yourself at him, tightly wrap your arms around his waist. ‘Shut up, it’s perfect!’ you laugh. ‘Thank you thank you thank you!’

He returns the hug and desperately tries not to let his face go beetroot red. 

The sun is just about to set. He checks the time, half an hour before everyone else is supposed to arrive. That’s the smallest bit of deceit he has let himself indulge in—telling everyone else the wrong time so he gets half an hour with you all alone. But he can’t bring himself to feel guilty about it. 

‘And the others are coming too?’

‘They are,’ he confirms, ‘in a bit. I just got impatient.’

‘Shame,’ you shrug, ‘this could have been a perfect date.’

‘What?’ he stops breathing, almost certain that he misheard you. A small voice in his brain starts screaming and his breathing gets shakier. 

‘Yeah,’ you smile, completely unaware of the lightning that’s racing in his veins, ‘someday, some girl is going to be so lucky to have you.’

And just like that, he comes hurtling down. 

George wonders if it would be absolutely psychotic of him to grab you by the shoulders and shake you violently. He has never been as speechless in his life as he is right now because how in the world is he so hopelessly in love with an utter idiot?

How are you the smartest and the stupidest person he knows?

‘Oh,’ you sound a bit hesitant, ‘have I said something I shouldn’t have?’

He simply shakes his head. He doesn’t trust his voice enough to speak right now and he doesn’t want to open his mouth and find out what comes out. 

‘Oh my god, there’s already someone, isn’t there?’ your eyes widen, you gasp as if you have connected the dots, solved the unsolvable cypher and George simply wonders if he should laugh or cry or throw himself off this fucking roof. 

Or pin you against the wall and kiss you till your lips are swollen. 

But that’s the exact moment his phone pings with a text. Saved and Damned by the bell. 

Matty and his girlfriend are almost here and his whole life is a fucking cosmic joke.

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

George has been mopey. There’s no other word for it. And he can tell that his friends are equal parts worried and fed up with him. 

Even now as he moodily sighs instead of doing actual work, he can feel Ross’s eyes on him. It’s not easy to hide shit from someone who’s essentially an extension of you; who knows your body language better than you do. So when Ross quietly offers him a cigarette and a chance to let it all out, he accepts gratefully. 

‘So all this for a girl then?’ his friend teases lightly once George is done unloading everything. 

It started out as a calm, collected discussion of his feelings. And then devolved into a rant about how he’s a coward for not being able to simply…confess. So the light teasing feels a bit like a jab. 

‘Yes,’ he replies curtly, ‘I’m pathetic. I know. Just say it.’

‘No, that’s not what…come on,’ Ross sighs. And it’s all well and good because George is not mad at him. Not really. 

He’s just annoyed, irritated, miffed, crabby, and yeah okay a little mad at himself. He feels like a pimply pre-teen who has no outlet for his angst apart from blasting out The Smiths in his bedroom. Which he might as well do at this point. 

‘And why haven’t you told her?’ 

It’s such a simple question. He almost wants to laugh at the obvious tone Ross asks it in. Why hasn’t he said anything yet…

Oh, maybe he’s terrified of messing things up?! What happens if you don't feel the same and then there are tensions between you and it would mess things up between Matty and his girlfriend because he met her through you. Also because George knows you two are like sisters. Or worse, he can’t say anything because what if you are already in love with someone else? And what if it’s one of his friends? What if—

‘Stop,’ Ross warns in a low voice. Maybe George’s panic is written very clearly on his face or maybe his friend just knows how to read him like a book. ‘What’s the worst that could happen if you told her, mate?’

And that’s a thought he does not want to entertain. Because there are a lot of possibilities; rational and irrational. So he simply hangs his head and takes another deep drag of the cigarette. 

They go back and forth; Ross tells him all the reasons why it’s a good idea and George comes up with a counterpoint for each one of them. This is a neverending debate, he knows it is because he’s had it with himself countless times before. In the end, however, he feels a little better. 

What if he simply started by asking you out for a coffee? Something that could easily be explained away as a friendly date. A coffee, a movie, a drink. Anything to spend time with you, to see if he has a shot. So George takes his keys out of his pocket and makes his way to his car. 

He’s almost pulling onto your street. His stomach is in knots, his mouth dry. He desperately wants to bounce his leg up and down but he’s driving so that’s out of the question. Your house stands out to him in the row of others and he scans the street to find some parking. A white car is parked in his usual spot in front of your house which makes him frown a bit but he doesn’t pay much attention to it; it’s not like he owns the spot. 

But then he sees you. In front of your door in a gorgeous black dress and a tall, handsome man next to you standing way too close than he should be. 

Too late George realises what’s happening. Too late he notices how you lean towards this man, how you smile up at him and place your hand on his bicep. The way your thumbs draw lazy circles on his arm that George thought was only reserved for him. Too late he realises what he’s going to see; the man bends down, you tilt your chin up and close the gap. 

For a second he’s sure he’s about the empty the contents of his stomach onto his lap. Fire burns through his veins; green and envious hellfire. So in a panicked daze, he floors the accelerator, pulls away and out of the street just as fast as he came in. 

He does not want to stay and find out if the other man is invited inside. 

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

George is in a foul mood. That, and he’s also terribly drunk; just one of two more pints shy of being stumbling, blackout drunk. 

It’s Adam’s birthday; a happy occasion. Everyone is a funny, cheerful drunk but he feels like he’s two seconds away from punching a hole in the nearest wall. Because you haven’t let go of that insipid man’s arm all evening. The same man that he saw outside your door all those weeks ago. 

Fucking Hayden and his pretentious drawl. He doesn’t understand what you see in that twat; someone as dazzling and gorgeous as you on the arm of one of the most insufferable people George has ever met. And the fact that he’s your date for the evening. That feels like a real kick in the nuts. 

If he could just take out his frustration by shutting himself in his studio and banging on his drums till his knuckles bled. But no, here he is. Stuck in a social situation. So when the chance comes to escape to the balcony for a quick smoke, he takes it. 

The night air does help a little to sober him up which is both good and bad. Good because he wants to be able to make clearheaded decisions. Bad because he simply wants to forget. 

‘You’ve been hiding,’ you announce as soon as you step onto the balcony. 

The sound of your voice startles him a little. And makes the vein in his forehead throb. 

‘Where’s your boytoy?’ he asks without turning around. It’s a bitter and lame statement but he can’t help himself, so he simply stares off into the distance and let his annoyance grow.

‘Don’t be like that… I only wanted to introduce my boyfriend to my friends.’

Boyfriend. He scoffs. That dimwit is nowhere near worthy of the title. 

‘And so you did,’ he speaks curtly, ‘he’s great, amazing, is that what you want me to say?’ Harold is—’

‘Hayden.’

‘Whatever.’

The silence stretches on. For a minute he’s sure you’ve left, that he’s alone on the balcony once again but then he hears your shaky breathing. A wave of fear passes through him; has he made you cry? Did he cross a line? He turns around, fully prepared to grovel and apologize and stops in his tracks. 

Your hands tremble at your sides, your lip is curled up and your eyes blaze in pure fury. He’s actually a bit scared of that look. He’s only seen it once before and he remembers what happened then, he never thought it would be directed at him. 

‘What the fuck is your problem, George? You haven’t even talked to him and you’re just going to form opinions? Based off of what, huh?!’ you seethe and step closer. 

‘Well, I heard both of you talking to Matty and Ross. You got along great, it was fantastic, happy?’ 

He hears the tone of his voice, he really does. It’s snippy and rude and bordering on cruel but the tether between his brain and his mouth seems to have snapped. Or washed away with the last glass of scotch. 

‘Are you even hearing yourself right now?’ you ask incredulously, eyes wide and throat bobbing. Because of course, his behaviour makes no sense. Because of course, you don’t actually know what his problem is.

He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. This is not what he should be doing right now, he should be pulling you close and whispering 101 reasons against your lips for why he’s better, why it’s him you should be with. Jealous, envious thoughts cloud his vision and his judgement. He’s no good to anyone right now. But his feet refuse to move. 

Even when you’re fuming at him, you are downright stunning. Clad in a pretty pink thing that brings out the flush in your cheeks. Right now it’s anger and alcohol but he hates to think that there are days when that clown is the reason why you blush and bite your lip. 

‘Go away,’ he states. He tries to make it sound as dismissive as possible, as rude as he can but it comes out weak and pathetic. 

‘You don’t tell me what to do,’ you huff, arms crossing in front of your chest. He doesn’t miss the way it deepens your cleavage and right in the middle of this fight, he wishes he could hitch up your dress and fuck you till the only thing you can remember is his name. ‘I’m serious.’

This has turned into a battle of wills. He was never prepared for it, and now he has no way out of it. So he takes a deep breath and picks the worst possible option. 

‘If you really care about my opinion then here you fucking go. I don’t like Hayden, I think he’s a pretentious little shit who’s only with you because he likes you as his arm candy. But you’re too blinded to see that right now.’ It scares him a little how calm he sounds but now that the words are out there, he can’t stop. ‘He looks at you like you’re a piece of meat that he can’t wait to sink his teeth into. He looks at you like you’re this…this thing.’ 

‘You’re being cruel, George’ your voice breaks on his name. He sees the damage his words have done but it’s better this way. 

The betrayal will sting, you would go home and cry to Hayden. He would comfort you, tell you that George is an asshole that you should stay away from. And you would stay away from him. George would nurse his broken heart, fuck around till he can’t feel his dick anymore and then, if he’s lucky, move on. 

‘Yeah, well,’ he shrugs casually, ‘you asked me what my problem was. My problem is that he’s too conceited to ever be a good fit for you and you’re too stupid to see it.’

The last syllable resonates between the two of you like a death knell. You take a shaky breath, blink back the tears. 

‘You’re a miserable asshole!’

George watches you turn around on your heels and walk away. He takes a shuddering breath and closes his eyes. The fight hasn’t fully sunk in yet. But it will. And when it does, when the eventual regret comes, he would desperately wish he could go back in time and confess his real feelings. 

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

George is fucking miserable. 

It’s been two months since he’s spoken to you, or heard from you, or even seen you. Two months since the night of Adam’s birthday. All he’s done in these two months is get out of bed, work till he’s exhausted and then drink till he passes out. 

His friends are worried about him. He can tell from the way they exchange long glances with each other every time he’s in the room. He wonders if they know what happened, if you told them but he hasn’t asked. In part because he’s worried about what they might tell him, that you and your boyfriend are all loved up, maybe even moved in together. Fuck, you could have eloped with him by now and George wouldn’t know. 

So he takes another swig of his beer and focuses on whatever show’s playing on the TV. 

It’s almost 11 at night and he’s not nearly as drunk as he’d like to be. He’s pretty sure that the bottle in his hand is the last one, that there’s no more left in the fridge but he does have a lot of weed. Maybe that’s what he will do after. 

So when the bell rings abruptly he lets out a deep, irritated groan. 

It’s probably just one of his friends, here to shoot the shit because none of them have any concept of boundaries with each other anyway. Maybe if he just ignores it, they will go away. 

The bell rings again followed by some pounding on the door. 

He huffs and gets off the sofa. The pounding doesn’t stop until he yanks the door open hard enough to rip it off its hinges; ready to yell at whoever’s bothering him at this hour. But one look and his heart stops beating inside his chest. 

For a minute he wonders if all the exhaustion and alcohol and sleep deprivation has culminated into hallucinations. And then his heart breaks at the sight in front of him. 

You look small and miserable; raw, red eyes with tear stains running down your cheeks. Your mascara is smudged, there’s a layer of black under your eyes and your lip wobbles from the effort of keeping everything at bay. He opens his mouth and closes it again when you make a run for him and bury your face straight in his chest. 

His heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. How often has he wished that you would just show up at his doorstep and all will be forgiven? But this is not how he wanted it, not when something’s clearly causing you pain. 

‘Oh, my darling,’ he shushes slowly, a bit bewildered but more worried. Whatever buzz the alcohol had left, drains out of his body in an instant. ‘Let’s get you inside, love. Come on.’ 

It takes him a few moments to calm you down enough so he can steer you into the living room and onto the sofa. Empty bottles of alcohol litter the floor, old cigarette butts in the ashtray that he never cleaned out but he’s not bothered by all that right now. Not when he has much bigger things to worry about. 

‘It’s alright, love, he speaks softly and rubs your back in slow, soothing circles, ‘it’s alright.’

The coil in his stomach tightens as panic threatens to take over. But he has to stay calm for you. Because you clearly need him right now and he’s not about to disappoint you again. 

You stay like that for five minutes, then ten. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t try to ask you questions before you’re ready to speak. If he has to hold and soothe you all night long then he’s happy to do so as long as he knows he can do something to help. 

‘You were right,’ you speak through tears, in a shaky voice that sounds hoarse. ‘You were so right and I was just too fucking stupid to see it.’

His words from months ago come back to haunt him. Not like he has stopped thinking about them. Sometimes, at night, they play in his head on a loop. 

‘No…no don’t say that,’ he holds you close and gently rocks back and forth, ‘never say that.’

He focuses on how you’re almost on his lap; face buried in his chest, hands fisted in his jumper. Your bodies fit together perfectly as if you’re two pieces of the same puzzle and if it weren’t for the fact that you are currently crying your eyes out, he would have died of pure fucking bliss. 

‘Hayden cheated on me,’ you whisper in a broken voice. 

He had suspected something like this but hearing it still fills him with white-hot fury. 

‘He cheated on me with my friend. And you know what the worst part is?’ you laugh bitterly, ‘the worst fucking part is that I’m more upset about losing a friend than losing a boyfriend.’

That makes him laugh despite himself. 

That’s my girl, he almost says but stops himself. Because you’re not his, are you? All his yearning won’t make it come true. 

‘Go on,’ you nudge him in the ribs, ‘say I told you so.’

He has to clear his throat before he speaks. ‘Is that what you think of me?’ 

For the first time that night, you finally look at him. ‘No, that’s not…well you were clearly right, so…’

‘I don’t care about being right,’ he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, ‘I care about you.’

And that’s as close he has ever come to confess his true feelings. And maybe that’s as close as he’ll ever get. 

You open your mouth and close it again, a bit too stunned to say anything. 

‘It’s his loss for letting go of someone like you.’ George speaks it like a fact; an irrefutable, universal fact. Because to him, it is. 

It takes him some courage to do it, but he slowly wipes away the mascara-stained tears off your face. All while he looks at you with a gentle, tender smile. His feelings don’t matter in this moment; if you need a friendly shoulder to cry on then that’s what he will be. A friend, a companion. 

You are quiet for a while, playing with a random loose thread of his jumper, deep in thought. You are still almost on his lap, still in his arms. And there’s warmth in his body like he has never felt before. 

‘What are you thinking?’ he asks, breaking the silence. 

‘Maybe I’m just hard to love, maybe that’s what it is.’

If the urge to deck Hayden wasn’t strong enough before, it’s almost uncontrollable now. The only thing that keeps him in place is the need to reassure you. To tell you how wrong you are. 

There’s a cacophony of thoughts in his head, several of them fighting to be said out loud all at once. He wants to curse out your asshole ex, he wants to tell you what a wonderful person you are, absolutely perfect. How you always make him smile wide, grin ear to ear and make his stomach flutter. How you deserve the whole world. 

Instead, what he says is, ‘you’re the easiest person to love. Trust me, I would know.’

And that’s how everything comes out. 

And that’s how you end up looking at him through wide, teary eyes with slightly parted lips. 

And that’s how he finally does what he has been dying to do for years.

Years later, when George will remember this night, your first kiss, he will always remember the salty taste of it, the feeling of your dry chapped lips on his, how you messily grabbed at each other, unable to get enough. Years later, he will still remember how despite the kiss not being picture-perfect, it was still the best thing he has ever experienced. Years later, he won’t remember what you were wearing that night, or what day it was or what time. He will only remember how his heart beat fast enough to almost leap out of his chest. 

But later isn’t here yet. 

And right now he only wants to lose himself in this moment, in catching up for all the months and years he has lost out of sheer cowardice.  

[overandundertarot]

How should you spend this time of peace?

This pick a card reading is intended to give some advice and insight on how you can spend the peaceful/mundane parts of your life at this time. For those little parts of the day that are quiet and you just feel like doing something.

Please keep in mind that this is a general reading so if something doesn't resonate/feel right- leave it! Feel free to pick another pile or another pick a card. Trust your intuition always.

Please pick a pile (1-6)(left to right)

PILE ONE:

Card; King of wands. You should spend your time staying on top of your game! Work on what you love, you have the ability for great change right now. There's something that you're very passionate about and you should dediate a lot of time to it right now. It will bring you great fulfilment! confirmations; filming, movies, greenlight, cars, social media.

PILE TWO:

Card; Ace of wands reversed. Pile two you may have the tendency to frequently start new hobbies or have many ideas that you never end completing. Use this time to tie up loose ends. Finish your projects or just cut off those ideas/goals that aren't serving you anymore. So that you can work on what really matters to you. Don't spend too much time overthinking about this, it'll be surprisingly simple once you start. confirmation; travel, music, lgbtq+, magic.

PILE THREE:

Cards; The Fool reversed, The Empress. Listen to yourself and your instincts. There's a pretty important part of you that you've been repressing. Let yourself shine and do things that make you feel like a god/goddess. Maybe you have a weird fashion sense, or a "creepy" hobby. Do whatever you want, be sensual and passionate! Go out and have fun! But be careful of being reckless/naive. confirmations; cottagecore, surprises, time limit, blocks.

PILE FOUR:

Card; Page of wands reversed. It's time to bring something to a close. You've been working on something as of late but right now you're getting really frustrated. I feel like whatever it is has a way of bleeding into every aspect of your life, so much so that you are constantly worried and feeling anxious. Just try to see it through till the end, take a break and then look at it again if you need to. It can't always be perfect, but it will never be complete if you keep overthinking and overanalysing. You may have just jumped right in without knowing what you were getting into, but try to see it through till the end! Other people's opinions may really make or break you right now, but you have to look at it objectively and trust in that inspiration you had in the beggining. confirmations; paperwork, deadline, skies, boss or superiors, lanscapes.

PILE FIVE:

Card; Queen of swords reversed, Queen of Pentacles. These are the people pleasers of the group! You're being encouraged to be more egotistical. It may feel selfish to prioritise yourself, but at the end of the day you'll just feel exhausted from performing for other people and putting their needs first. Take care of yourself! And PUT YOURSELF FIRST! Especially if it is something career/business related, operate from a priority of the best possible outcome for you. This may be time to splurge a little on yourself, which may look reckless or illogical but just do it! Practice physical self care, buy yourself flowers, spend time in nature. Calming activitites like that will help you build confidence. confirmations; birds, flowers and plants, gold jewelry, money, fur.

PILE SIX:

Card; Six of cups reversed, Four of wands. Spend your time moving towards action. Its a wonderful time of expansion for you, you're taking inspiration from past experiences and combining them with the security and stability you already have to expand your horizons. This feels peaceful, you may be going on vacation soon and are excited to relax. I'm getting that you're very excited for this summer, it feels different than the others so far and you have a lot planned. Good, do whatever you feel called to do and make sure to try out a lot of new things, food and fruit in specific. There may a new love interest coming into your life soon. confirmation; sunshine, beaches, palm trees, upwards, food, cinnamon, beautiful smile.

That's it! Thanks for participating in this pick a card!