#you ever listen to a song so hard you make a genius lyric page

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

i have no one to blame but you

YALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL this was so hard write im sorry if it sucks but another question.....concert scene??? just a thought

I'm at peace. I am. At. peace. 

So why do I wanna see him?

My fans loved the tracks and that makes me happy but i'm not actually happy i'm slightly content at most 

Nope. y/n go to bed 

Meanwhile at the bau…..

Garcia swears she could pass out after seeing y/n released 3 song tracks 

She the grabs her laptop and struts her pink glittery high heels across the bureau in a panic 

Derek sees her power walking to the empty round table he knew it was a calm day with no cases and in fact they were just about to leave and head home 

‘’Whoa baby girl slow down what with the rush to the round table is there an emergency case?’’

She immediately spills the beans no longer able to keep it in but she says it in a hushed whisper because spencer is right across from them by the coffee pot 

“ No! y/n  just uploaded music again after a month and i wouldnt be surprised if she wrote nasty lyrics  about boy genius!!!!’’

Derek is taken aback

“Relax penelope i'll go listen with you im sure its nothing”

Garica nods 

As theyre both going to y/ns page to see for themselves incomes jj and emily

Garcia sighs and says ‘’ good, sit down both of you”

Garica explains the situation all over again 

They finally begin listening to the first track  snow angel

I met a boy

He broke my heart

I blame him 'cause

It's easier

They finish snow angel, speechless 

“Oh my god its definitely about him what are we gonna do if spencer hears this on the radio or somethin-”

“ deep breathes garcia” emily adds 

Second track lost cause

Thought you had your shit together, but damn, I was wrong

You ain't nothin' but a lost cause 

‘’ but spencer does have his shit together! Maybe not to her but thats so-” derek tries to say

“ he doesn’t deserve this we practically forced him to not like her” jj interupts 

Track three  happier than ever

You call me again, drunk in your Benz

Driving home under the influence

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath

'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

I don't relate to you

I don't relate to you, no

'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty

You made me hate this city

And I don't talk shit about you on the internet

Never told anyone anything bad

'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

And all that you did was make me fucking sad

So don't waste the time I don't have

And don't try to make me feel bad

I could talk about every time that you showed up on time

But I'd have an empty line 'cause you never did

Never paid any mind to my mother or friends

So I shut 'em all out for you 'cause I 

was a kid

You ruined everything good

Always said you were misunderstood

Made all my moments your own

Just fucking leave me alone

‘’ spencer cannot listen to this” garcia decides 

“Listen to what?”

Everyone at the table freezes in their seat

“ not you spencer, another spencer” garcia quickly says

Everyone else at the table mentally face palms 

‘’Right….let me listen to whatever you're hiding, thanks.’’

‘’ why are you guys listening to y/ns music?”

Spencer listens to all the tracks with his face in his hands the whole time

‘’ this is all your guys fault!”

“ we know”

“ i have to go see her”

Meanwhile at y/ns home

Three knocks at first.

Then six

The a multitude obsessive amount of knocks at my door.

‘’ spencer. I swear to fuck i will call the authorities”

“ i am the authorities, please open up”

I walk to the door

Why am i walking to the door.

Why am i turning the knob 

Why did i let him in.

[chewiiez]

fengqing as twice songs; a megalist

THE STORY BEGINS

do it again

like a fool

PAGE TWO

precious love

TWICECOASTER LANE 1

TT

next page

TWICECOASTER LANE 2

knock knock

ice cream

SIGNAL

someone like me

only you

TWICETAGRAM

missing u

love line

jaljayo good night

rollin’

WHAT IS LOVE/SUMMER NIGHTS

what is love?

say yes

stuck

YES OR YES

sunset

after moon

FANCY YOU

hot

strawberry

FEEL SPECIAL

feel special

trick it

21:29

love foolish

get loud

MORE & MORE

more and more

firework

oxygen

shadow

make me go

EYES WIDE OPEN

i can’t stop me

shot clock

go hard

bring it back

handle it

depend on you

behind the mask

KURA KURA

kura kura

strawberry moon

TASTE OF LOVE

alcohol-free

sos

scandal

conversation

baby blue love

PERFECT WORLD

perfect world

thank you, family

better

pieces of love

DOUGHNUT

doughnut

FORMULA OF LOVE

moonlight

cruel

f.i.l.a (fall in love again)

last waltz

espresso

rewind

cactus

push and pull

1, 3, 2

the most fengqing song to ever fengqing btw

CELEBRATE

tick tock

sandcastle

bittersweet

BETWEEN 1&2

talk that talk

basics

brave

trouble

when we were kids

READY TO BE

moonlight sunrise

wallflower

crazy stupid love

WITH YOU-TH

i got you

rush

bloom

you get me

IM NAYEON (NAYEON SOLO)

all or nothing

sunset

love countdown

ZONE (JIHYO SOLO)

killin me good

wishing on you

talkin about it

closer

room

AND THAT’S ALL! every twice album has a song for fq, but i didn’t deep dive into the jp releases that much because im not too familiar w them,, still perfect world stands as the best jp twice album so i had to include tracks from it!

this is a collection of pre-canon (xl era), the 800 year heartbreak era, post canon and during relationship songs! twice started as a bubblegum pop band and have a large collection of cute songs, but think of these cute songs as japanese songs where the meaning is deep/dark 😭😭 as someone who’s explored twice’s entire discography i promise you the tracks are fengqing coded!

i would reccomend, if its your first time listening to kpop or twice, these websites:

genius english translations. they aren’t the most understandable but they are accessible!

color coded lyrics/a-z lyrics. super accurate

lyric videos on yt! esp if its a title track (like feel special), you can watch the mv, look @ subtitles or pull up a color coded lyrics video.

line distribution! def a new concept if you aren’t familiar w kpop, it shows which members sing what parts. often, they will have lyrics, but its a great way to remember a song if yk whos singing it, imo

i hope this helps, and i hope u enjoy my recs <3

(re edited to include twice solos!)

[pika2482]

AOTD 12-21-2023 - The Fox and The Bird (OK Goodnight)

[All albums are rated subjectively based off my own enjoyment]

10/10

There are so many things I can say about this album, but I'll start with the usual;

OK Goodnight is a Prog Rock/Metal band that did a large part of the soundtrack for RWBY. Casey Lee Williams, daughter of one of the show's writers, Clearly has a knack for telling some of the most gut-wrenching stories, as shown in their second studio album, The Fox and The Bird. This album was written, recorded, and produced over a three year span, and by God it shows in it's master craftsmanship.

It follows our two main protagonists (Take a guess who) in their quest to return the rain to their homeland, which has been stricken with drought for some time. After hearing a rumor from The Racoon, they set off on a journey to collect a set of totems from a Very interesting cast of characters. I will not spoil anything from there, as this is a required listen for anyone with working ears.

The story is told in such a poetic story-book type way. The lyrics are artistic as they are concise and direct, and unlike Pink Lemonade (Closure in Moscow), which I had to use it's Genius page to keep track of the story, I barely even needed to read the lyrics to keep up with this one. Every aspect in each song serves both the story, fantastically painting the scene, characters, and their personalities, and also the music itself, with it's fantastic intertwining melodies and powerful, driven beats and riffs. I kid you not, I can remove the vocals from any song and you'll be able to tell me Exactly what type of character the song is about, between your headbanging and the tears in your eyes towards the ladder half.

Oh yeah, sidenote, this album is The Only artistic / entertainment medium to ever make me cry. So yeah, there's that.

While this album had MULTIPLE 9's and 10's individually, only one song can stand out as the Highlight for me:

The Bear.

With it's powerful yet simple lead guitar riff, it's melody, it's immensely powerful chorus, and the ONLY vocal growls I have ever liked. That with it's immensely powerful lyrics, an argument between our protagonists and The Bear between needing one another to survive in this world, or survival of the fittest, encompasses so many of this albums themes and drives such a hard and clear message that shoots right from my headphones into my heart. It changed my taste in music forever. I don't think I would have EVER gotten into this heavier style if it wasn't for this song.

Other standouts include The Fox and The Bird, The Racoon, The Falcon, The Bird and The Mountain. Yes, that is nearly half the track list as standouts. Yes, this album is that good.

If I HAVE to critique it over anything, it's The Dream. The Dream works as an instrumental Interlude to mirror The Nightmare earlier in the album. It starts as mainly ambient before dropping into this Massive ODESZA type soundscape that gives the Exact sensation as a really good dream (How the Fuck?) that starts slowly building up into... nothing. The goddamn track blueballsed me! This is hardly a complaint as this is what a lot of my good dreams do. If this was expanded into a full track it would crack my top 50 Easily, but, it has to serve the story first. And the story takes you directly into the grueling roars and gray stained claws of The Bear.

Overall, The best album I've ever heard and it's not very close. It changed my taste in music, made me cry, and made me buy it's CD. 10/10, would listen again, and again, and again, and again.

Favorite Songs: The Fox and The Bird, The Racoon, The Falcon, The Bear, The Bird, The Mountain

Least Favorite Songs: The Dream

IMPORTANT NOTE: The Bear and The Fox and The Bird are my number 1 and 2 favorite songs of all time, and The Racoon and The Falcon are also present on my Top 50 playlist.

[d-criss-news]

20 Questions With Darren Criss: How Acting Has Helped Him Make New Music

While Darren Criss has graced our TV screens with a range of characters, from high schooler Blaine Anderson on Glee to serial killer Andrew Cunanan on The Assassination of Gianni Versace, he was last spotted just being himself, on our For You Page on TikTok. “I’m walking to rehearsal with a guitar on my back with a Trader Joe’s bag ... I did not bring an umbrella because I forgot that it was raining. I’m rocking that NYC musician life,” the Glee alum explained in the hilarious clip posted three days ago.

While Criss’ acting work has earned him acclaim and stardom, he leaned into making music during the pandemic. On Aug. 20, he dropped a new EP, Masquerade, featuring five new tracks that Criss says were inspired by the different characters Criss has embraced throughout his career. After Criss wrote songs for his musical comedy web series Royalties and Apple TV+’s animated sitcom Central Park before the pandemic struck the United States, he then used those experiences as a precursor to his new EP. As Criss continues to promote his new music, he answered 20 of Billboard's questions – giving us a peek into how his new EP came together, and how growing up in San Fransisco shaped him as an actor, singer and all-around artist.

1. What inspired your latest project, Masquerade?

Although I would have preferred that it come at a far less grim cost, I finally had the time. Before the pandemic, I had written 10 new songs for my show Royalties -- along with an original song for Disney and another for Apple’s Central Park. These were all assignments in which I was writing for a certain scenario and character. Go figure. It was the most music I had ever written in a calendar year. This really emboldened me to rethink how I made my own music— to start putting a focus on “character creation” in my songs, rather than personal reflection. The latter was not proving to be as productive. The alchemy of having this time and having set a new intention with my own songwriting and producing made me put on a few of my favorite masques and throw myself a Masquerade.

2. How do you think your background as an actor complements your music?

They are one and the same to me. I treat acting roles like musical pieces— dialogue is like scoring a melody; there’s pace, dynamics, cadence, tone. Physical characterization is like producing -- zeroing in on the bass line, deciding on the kick pattern. Vocal characterization is like choosing the right sonic experience, choosing the most effective snare sound, and mixing the high end or low end. It goes without saying that it works in the complete opposite direction. Making each song is taking on a different role literally and employing the use of different masques to maximize the effectiveness of the particular story being told.

3. On Instagram  you wrote that “Masquerade is a small collection of the variety of musical masques that have always inspired me.” Which track do you identify with most in your real life?

Everybody absorbs songs differently. Some key into the lyrics, some into the melody, some the production, some into vocal performance. When I listen to songs, I consider all of their value on totally different scales. So it’s hard to say if there’s any track I “identify” with more than any others, since I -- by nature -- identify with all of them. I think I just identify with certain aspects more than others. If it helps for a more interesting answer, I will say I enjoy the slightly more classical, playful -- dare I say -- more Broadway-leaning wordplay of “Walk of Shame,” but that’s just talking about lyricism. I enjoy the attitude of “F*kn Around,” the batsh--t musicality of “I Can’t Dance,” the relentless grooves of “Let’s” and “For A Night Like This.” All have different ingredients I really enjoy having an excuse to dive into.

4. What’s the first piece of music that you bought for yourself, and what was the medium?

Beatles audio cassettes: “Help” and “Hard Day’s Night.” I just listened on repeat on a tape-playing Walkman until my brother and I got a stereo for our room with a CD player in it, which was  when I just bought the same two albums again, but this time as compact discs.

5. What was the first concert you saw?It’s hard to say, because my parents took us to a lot of classical concerts when we were small. But I guess this question usually refers to what was the first concert you went to on your own volition, and that my friend, was definitely Warped Tour ’01. My brother and I went on our own— two teenagers going to their first music festival, in the golden age of that particular genre and culture. It was f--king incredible.

6. What did your parents do for a living when you were a kid?

My dad was in private banking and advised really, really wealthy people on how to handle their money. My mom was, by choice, a stay-at-home mom, but in reality, she was my dad’s consigliere. They discussed absolutely everything together. They were a real team, and I saw that every single day in the house. They both had a background in finance (That’s how they met in the first place.) and were incredibly skilled at all the hardcore adulting things that I absolutely suck at. They were total finance wizards together. So of course, instead of becoming an accountant, I picked up playing the guitar and ran as far I could with it. Luckily, they were all about it.

7. What was your favorite homecooked meal growing up?

My dad was an incredible chef. For special occasions, I’d request his crab cakes. They were unreal. I’ve never had a crab cake anywhere in the world that was good as my dad’s.

8. Who made you realize you could be an artist full-time?

I don’t know if I’ve actually realized that yet.

9. What’s at the top of your professional bucket list?

The specifics change every day, but the core idea at the top is to continue being consistently inconsistent with my choices, and to keep getting audiences to constantly reconsider their consideration of me. But I mean, sure, what performer doesn’t want to play Coachella? What songwriter doesn’t want to have Adele sing one of their songs? What actor doesn’t want to be in a Wes Anderson film?

10.  How did your hometown/city shape who you are?

San Francisco. I mean, come on. I was really lucky. The older I get, the more grateful I am for just being born and raised there. It’s an incredibly diverse, culturally rich, colorful, inclusive, vibrant city. By the time I was born, it had served as a beacon for millions of creative, out-of-the-box thinkers to gather and thrive. I grew up around that. The combination of that with having parents, who were unbelievably supportive of the arts themselves, laid an incredibly fortunate foundation to consider the life of an artist as a legitimately viable option. It’s a foundation that I am supremely aware is not the case for millions of young artists around the world. I was absurdly lucky.

11.  What’s the last song you listened to?

I mean probably one of mine, but not by choice. I know, lame. But I’m promoting a new EP, what’d you expect? But if you wanna know what I’ve been listening to, as far as new s--t is concerned: a lot of Lizzy McAlpine, Remi Wolf, and Charlie Burg.

12.  If you could see any artist in concert, dead or alive, who would it be?

The Beatles is an obvious "yeah, duh." Sammy Davis, Mel Tormé, or of course, Nat King Cole. I would’ve loved to see Howard Ashman give a lecture on his creative process and his body of work.

13. What’s the wildest thing you’ve seen happen in the crowd of one of your sets?

I feel like just having a crowd at all, at any one of my sets, is pretty wild enough.

14. What’s your karaoke go-to?

The real answer to this I’ll write into a book one day, because I have a lot to say about karaoke etiquette. I have two options here: I can either name a song that I like to sing for me, for fun, or I can name a song that really gets the group going. The answer depends on what kind of karaoke night we’re dealing with here. So I will say, after I’ve selected a ton of songs that services a decent enough party vibe for everyone else, then I would do one for me, and that would be the Beatles’ “Oh! Darling.”

15. What’s one thing your most devoted fans don’t know about you?

What I have up my sleeve.

16. What TV show did you binge-watch over the past year?

Dave is a stroke of genius. There are episodes that I believe are bona fide masterpieces. Also, My Brilliant Friend is a masterclass in cinematic television.

17. What movie, or song, always makes you cry?

It’s A Wonderful Life.

18. What’s one piece of advice you would give to your younger self?

Get used to sharing everything about yourself and your life now, or more astutely, to the idea that you don’t necessarily get to control how your life is shared. I know it’s not really your thing, but you’re gonna have to get used to it, so start building up those calluses now. And don’t worry, all the stuff you love now will be cool again in your mid-thirties, so keep some of those clothes because you’ll be a full-blown fashion icon if you just keep wearing exactly what you’re wearing. Oh nd also, put money into Apple and Facebook.

19.  What new hobby did you take on in the last year?

I’ve always been a linguaphile. My idea of leisure time is getting to study or review other languages. This past year, I took the time to finally dive into learning how to read, write, and speak Japanese. Other than making music, it was one of the biggest components of my 2020-2021.

20. What do you hope to accomplish or experience by the end of 2021?

I hope I get to play live shows again.

[spencerspecifics]

What about a moried fluffy fic based on You Belong With Me by: Taylor Swift

You have no clue how much I absolutely love this song prompt thank u anon moreid is my shit here we go. (It is fluffy but it’s angsty in the beginning so yeah stay for the fluff thanks.) And I’m so sorry this took so long to get up! I took some time off from writing bc of lots of factors.

Lowkey TW?? Slight homophobia Bc Derek’s gf thinks he’s “too gay” even tho he’s just bi Also, song lyrics are in bold lettering. They’re going to be part the story here and there to help plot and whatnot so yeah!

———————————————————————

You Belong With Me

———————————————————————

Spencer had a problem. Namely a person problem. A Derek Morgan problem. Spencer didn’t hate Derek, quite the opposite, actually. Spencer was crushing hard on the man. And he couldn’t do anything. Spencer would rather lose his right hand then tell Derek how he felt about him, he couldn’t risk their friendship over his stupid little crush.

But just because he hid his feelings, ignored them through hell and high water- it didn’t mean they weren’t real, or weren’t there. They were both very real and apparent. Every time Derek called him ‘pretty boy’ or ‘genius’ or ‘handsome’, every time Derek wrapped his arm around him casually or did small things to showed him he cared, caused Spencer to blush and go speechless. Spencer was smart, but how to react to someone you’re infatuated with giving you attention, he’d never be able to solve that.

Time and time again, though, he found himself in situations where it was just him and Derek- and everything in his brain and body would scream at him to tell him how much he liked him, tell him how they should be together. It just made sense, after all.

Long paragraph short, here are the four times Spencer felt like they belonged together, and the one time Derek realized they do belong together.

~

“...You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset. She’s goin’ off about something that you said, ‘cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do...”

~

Spencer hung out with Derek a lot, it was just by default. He wasn’t a social individual, but he pack bonded with the team. Spencer saw everyone there as his friends, so yeah, he hung out with Derek. They would go do things together, grab lunch, get coffee, meet up to go shopping. Painfully mundane tasks that were so domestic it could cause spencer another migraine if he thought about it for long enough.

It was on one of these mundane days when problems slowly arose. They were in the mall, sat in the food court. Spencer was looking over a new book he had just bought, it was a thick book on physics, it would probably take him a day or two at most to read it, his tray of food in front of him was still mostly untouched.

Unlike Spencer, Derek was eating. Though it was greasy mall pizza, it was still food. Derek decided he’d run a few extra miles to work it off as some sort of consequence for his action.

They sat in silence, Spencer already flipping through pages quickly, mouthing the words he was reading over to himself; and Derek chewing silently as he watched the genius in front of him.

That was, until, Derek’s phone rang. Breaking the ambiance that had surrounded the two. Spencer didn’t look up, he was too invested in the book in front of him. Derek reacted, though, wiping his hands off on a napkin before grabbing his cell phone out of his back pocket. He looked over the caller ID, it was Melissa.

Melissa was his newest fling, Spencer had heard bits and pieces of Garcia and Derek’s conversation surrounding the topic, but he knew the bare minimum- deciding best to not involve himself with how his crushes romantic life was soaring- meanwhile his was crashing.

Spencer didn’t know it was Melissa though, not until Derek pulled the phone up to his ear and said; “Hey, Melissa!”

If anyone on their team was with them and watching Spencer, they would have noticed the way his eyes looked off the book for a moment, up at Derek, before immediately turning back down; to reread the same page he didn’t need to reread because he could just go back into his memory to figure out what the words on the paper meant to say. But he had to reread the page. The strongest memory in the whole universe couldn’t tell him what was on the page in front of him, he was distracted.

Melissa on the other line started speaking. Derek listened before responding; “Oh, not much, Y’know- just at the mall with the doc.”

Spencer kept himself staring down at the book in front of him, even though he could feel the blush rising up to his ears. It was stupid that made him blush like a schoolgirl. But he couldn’t help it. So instead, he hid in the pages about quantum mechanics. Something real, something not confusing. Something that was pure and basic and understanding.

“No-“ Derek chuckled, “No, pretty boy ain’t that type of doctor,” god, this was going to be the death of Spencer. Pretty boy always was something that made him melt. He couldn’t help it, god knows he tried. He did all the distraction techniques he could find. None of them really worked.

Spencer opted to hide in his book more, act like he wasn’t listening to Derek. Even though he was. He was always hooked on every last word the man spoke, it always mattered. This was just a hopeless effort, Spencer realized, as he sunk down in the uncomfortable plastic chair.

“Now, what on earth are you- hey, baby- beautiful, what are you-“ Derek started, sounding concerned.

Spencer couldn’t help it at this point, he looked up over the top of the book. Derek was looking at his phone in bewilderment. It was no longer up to his ear.

“...Everything okay?” Spencer asked curiously after a moment. Derek just sighed setting his phone down on the table next to his food tray. “I don’t even know, man. I called you pretty boy and that made Melissa flip- she was all like ‘who’s pretty boy? We discussed you being bisexual already, you better not be changing up on me’. Then she hung up.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Spencer replied, book still up between him and Morgan. “Yeah, I’m confused. It was a joke.” Derek explained to Reid, as if Spencer was ever owed an explanation regarding this.

“She must be insecure.” Spencer theorized plain and simple. Derek watched him curiously instead of asking anything to lead him on, “If she gets the idea that we’re a thing- just based on a nickname, then she’s gonna hate you and Garcia. You don’t need someone like that.”

Derek sighed, “You’re right. But I really thought she was great.” “Maybe she is,” Spencer shrugged, “I don’t know her. You do. All I’m saying is, she won’t like you and Garcia if she didn’t like my nickname.”

That elicited a chuckle from Derek, a sound Spencer always cherished in hearing. “Yeah, I can’t have someone hating my favorite boy wonder,” once again, Spencer could feel the blush coming onto his face. He was just hoping the lighting inside the mall food court didn’t make it all too obvious. “I’ll talk to her about it.” Derek decided. Spencer just nodded, not entirely wanting to talk right now.

“Yeah.. um, do what’s best.” Spencer agreed blandly. He wasn’t sure what else to say. And wasn’t this just laughable? Giving his crush dating advice? Spencer wasn’t stupid, but he was in this scenario.

“Yeah, I will. Anyways,” Derek continued the conversation casually, reaching out covering Spencer’s book with his hand. “What are you-“ Spencer started, confused. “Taking away your book. Eat before your food gets cold.” Derek spoke plainly, as if this was so obvious. He pulled Spencer’s book out of his grasp, setting it down next to himself; before pushing Spencer’s untouched tray of food in front of him.

“I’m not very-“ Spencer started, already trying to reach back for his book. Derek just shook his head, pulling the book closer to him. “Nuh-uh, not today. Not today. You’re eating. No if’s, and’s, or but’s.”

Spencer sunk down in his seat a little as he finally caved, agreeing and eating the mall food. Granted, it wasn’t great, but it was food, and he did need to eat. Last thing he had eaten that day was a granola bar for breakfast, and Derek knew that he forgot to eat.

He ate in silence as Derek watched him, before moving his gaze to casually watch the other mall patrons. It was so entirely stupid and domestic of them. It was nothing special, it wasn’t even that good of a memory. But for some reason, Spencer knew that was the first time he felt something new towards Derek. More new than just his crush. It was a new, overwhelming feeling of “I wouldn’t treat you that way” “I wouldn’t care if you called someone babygirl” “I would be better for you” before finally, his mind landed on, “you belong with someone who wouldn’t judge. Someone like me. You belong with me.”

That’s when Spencer knew he was fucked, more so than before.

~

“...I’m in the room, it’s a typical Tuesday night. I’m listening to the type of music she doesn’t like. And she’ll never know your story like I do...”

~

The second time was at Spencer’s apartment. He had complained about his bookshelf not being stable enough to hold all his books, and Derek had practically invited himself over; “C’mon, Reid. It’ll be good. Get some quality time without the ladies, we can order Chinese, plus I can show you how to fix your shelf so you don’t have to ask for help next time.”

So yeah, now they had gone directly from work to Spencer’s apartment- the only pit stop being to Derek’s house to pick up his toolbox, as Spencer didn’t have one.

Spencer wished he wasn’t such a pushover, because damnit, now he was gonna be in his apartment with Derek. That didn’t seem like a problem to anyone else, obviously- because they weren’t crushing hard on the guy. So Spencer just had to stand there and hide how much he liked Derek, and how at home Derek made his apartment feel- because it felt better with him there. He belonged there.

Spencer ignored his thoughts as they got into his apartment, he led Derek over to the problematic bookshelf in question. Some of the books had toppled off the shelves, and were on the ground below. “Damn, Reid, you don’t mess around with all these books.” Derek joked lightly as he looked over the immense amount of books Spencer had shoved onto the shelf; Derek squatted down, lowering the tool kit next to him as he started taking books off the shelves one by one so he could further inspect what was wrong with it.

Spencer protested, not understanding Derek was joking, “It’s not my fault- the bookshelf is supposed to hold books, if it can’t do what’s promised then that’s on the manufacturers error.”

Derek just chuckled slowly in response before replying, still pulling books off the shelves “Don’t worry, pretty boy, we’ll get this sorted out for you, alright? Just get some music on so we got something to hang to.” Derek wasn’t looking at Spencer, thank god- or he’d see how the genius got so flustered so quickly, how quickly a blush spread across his face, and how he immediately looked away from him, to the walls, the floor. To look at anything but Derek.

“Yes- right. Music.” Spencer changed his focus, he couldn’t think about how good it felt to be called a pet name by Derek. He couldn’t let himself think about it, or else he’d never stop. So he busied himself with getting some music to play through the quiet apartment, he turned over to his old radio that was sat on his study desk, it was a loud radio, that’s why he got it. It was compact, but if he put it in the bathroom he could hear it from the kitchen. It was the perfect device for him.

Spencer turned the radio on, the channel he always listened to was already tuned in, so he left it that way. Soft instrumental music started flowing out of the speakers, Derek stopped his motion of putting books down to turn and look at Spencer semi-curiously; “What’s this music?” “Classical.” Spencer replied easily, looking down at the radio as he messed with the volume dial that always seemed to be loose. “It’s on 88.1, they play strictly instrumental and classical pieces. It’s nice.”

Derek didn’t respond, Spencer didn’t need him to respond. It was an inconsequential conversation about music. If Derek didn’t like the station, he was more than welcome to change it to another. But he didn’t, it was Spencer’s apartment, and the soft classical music playing just seemed fitting to play there. Plus Derek just wanted the music as a background sound to help him focus, it wasn’t really important what it was- just that there was music playing.

Spencer went off to the kitchen to find the menu he had saved from the local Chinese restaurant that does deliveries, meanwhile Derek continued pulling books off the shelves. Melissa would hate him for being here, ever since the call at the mall, she was convinced Derek was going to leave her for him- or for another guy. She thought he was “too gay” to stay with her, obviously that’s not how him or his bisexuality works. But Melissa didn’t see it that way.

God, everything Derek saw, Melissa saw differently, it was ironic he was even with her. He saw Penelope Garcia as his best female friend, his babygirl. Melissa saw her as a threat, they had a whole argument about it. Melissa had finally stopped seeing Garcia as a threat when he told her that Garcia was wrapped up in Kevin drama. He wanted to tell Garcia about all of this, but he knew that if he did she would immediately tell him to dump her. Anyone that came between their friendship wasn’t allowed, and that wasn’t a rule Garcia had made up, it was more of an understanding they had come to about their dynamic as friends.

Derek just hadn’t dumped her yet out of fear. This was his first significant other in so long, it felt like a failure to start something and end it. He wanted to fix it. Though he knew it was unlikely he could, he still wanted to try.

Derek kept thinking as he finished pulling the books off until there were none left, he then pulled on the board of the shelf to see how unstable it was, all while continuing to think. He thought about Melissa, but none of it was really positive. It was all what she would hate about him being here, other than the obvious of being with Spencer (which she already disliked. She hated the genius and she hadn’t ever spoken to him, which Derek didn’t think was rational at all.) She would hate how Spencer’s apartment was, the green walls and shelves of books, the lack of a television, the soft glow from the lamps. Derek found every single last one of these qualities endearing, it helped show who Spencer was as a whole. Melissa would see it as a problem.

She’d say green was a gross color, that Spencer needed to be aware of pop culture and get a television, she’d say that Spencer didn’t get out enough and he lived like a hermit; she’d say the lighting was weird and dark, instead of soft and calming.

Derek let out a sigh, deciding to abandon his thoughts as a whole, because they were just starting to irritate him. Spencer was great the way he was, Melissa was being problematic; and him and her really needed couples counseling or something. That was the decision he landed on as he gave his full attention to the wiggly boards in Spencer’s bookshelf.

Derek pulled on the shelf again to test it’s strength. It was loose, pretty close to just falling down altogether. It was good he was here to fix it, Derek concluded, as he reached for the screwdriver in his toolkit.

~

The night continued on, Derek went through part by part, working on fixing Spencer’s bookshelf; meanwhile Spencer had ordered them dinner from the local Chinese place. Reid had thought about setting up the dinner at his kitchen table, before immediately regretting that idea. This was casual, it wasn’t some type of sit down dinner with Derek. That’s the last thing he needed, Spencer decided, as he walked over to Derek and handed him the carton of beef broccoli and a pair of chopsticks to go with.

Derek took them and put them down next to himself quickly, before pivoting into a sitting position on the floor and turning himself away from the bookshelf, facing exactly to the dinner table- which is where Spencer had opted to sit at, alone.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” Derek’s spoke out to him. Spencer tried to be casual, “All my stuff’s over here, and it’s not that far from you,” he shrugged, hoping Derek wouldn’t go any deeper. But of course, he did. “And I’m over here, so bring your stuff my way- you’re gonna make your repairman eat sitting on the floor alone? That’s cold, man.”

Spencer rolled his eyes as he picked up his carton of orange chicken and rice, “Okay, I’m here.” He tried to sound like he was annoyed, instead of stupidly simultaneously happy and unhappy with derek’s request (happy because his stupid crush on Derek, unhappy because of the same, unfortunate reason).

He made his way over to Morgan, sitting down across from him and using the back of his couch as a makeshift chair prop to lean against. He opened up his food, as Derek was now satisfied with this series of events and had gone back to paying attention to his beef broccoli. Spencer picked up his fork, ready to eat and just ignore how he was feeling, when Derek spoke up again; “Seriously- you still don’t know how to use chopsticks?”

Suddenly, Spencer was giving Derek a glare that had no malice, while Derek just chuckled at Spencer’s fury. “I’m tellin’ you. You need to learn how to use chopsticks.” “It’s fine.” Spencer argued weakly, “No way, if suddenly all the forks, knives, and spoons vanished, you’d have to eat with chopsticks.”

“Not true if sporks are still a thing.” Spencer pointed out, “I’m gonna smack you.” Derek replied, now it was Spencer’s turn to laugh.

~

“...But she wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers. Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find. That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time...”

~

The third time was when Spencer had resigned, accepting his feelings for what they were. He was now simply playing the waiting game, of waiting his crush out- because god knows he can’t go on like this forever. He hated how things have changed from a small crush into a serious never ending stream of thoughts he had whenever he was with Derek, but that’s how it was for him now.

He had ways to keep himself in check, though. As he always did. One was re-reading long old stories to himself from memory. It usually worked pretty well, and it was a good way to just pass the time in general.

Except for one, especially horrid time, when the FBI baseball team had a game against the CIA’s.

Spencer wasn’t playing, thank god for that. He wasn’t good at sports, though that one time he played baseball with Derek earlier in the season was a great memory he loved to go back to and remember. But that was a fluke, and he knew if he played again it wouldn’t go nearly as well.

Since he wasn’t playing, him and the rest of the team had come along to bring Morgan moral support from the sidelines of the bleachers. What Spencer hadn’t expected was Melissa showing up, too.

~

She showed up at the same time the team did to the field, they set up on the bleachers with some blankets and a basket full of snacks (courtesy of one Penelope Garcia.) and then she was suddenly walking over, surprising the team.

“Hi- um, are you Garcia? Is this the area for the BAU?” She asked, she had shoulder length brown hair, hazel eyes, and was wearing a flowy pink and yellow sundress. She was pretty, borderline beautiful, there was no denying that.

Spencer decided to start re-reading the books in his head by that point. He could already guess it was Melissa, as Rossi wouldn’t have invited a woman to this event until at least the ninth or eighth date (though with Rossi, Spencer never really knew how he operated in terms of dating, and he had no desire to know). Spencer also knew she wasn’t Hotch’s, as Hotch was too focused on Jack and the team to even consider dating.

Emily was single, and definitely would not invite a guy (or girl) to this either. J.J. was happy with Will, and Penelope had the on and off thing with Kevin. So yeah, Spencer deduced easily that this beautiful mysterious woman was Melissa.

The fact Derek invited Melissa rubbed Spencer the wrong way. But it wasn’t his business, he reminded himself, as he did his best to start focusing in on pride and prejudice in his mind.

Garcia began welcoming Melissa, even though it wasn’t necessary; “It is! And I am! Hi! Are you Melissa? Derek told me you were coming!”

Spencer did his best to not focus on Melissa, skipping forward a few chapters into pride of prejudice in his mind, to keep himself focused. He got pulled from his book though, as Melissa introduced herself and Garcia started introducing the team back;

“Well, grandpa over there is David Rossi,” “Easy, or else you won’t get those extra vacation days I offered you.” Rossi replied simply as hell, reaching for a bag of chips from the basket. “Fine- that esteemed gentleman right there is David Rossi.” “Better.” Rossi responded, a small grin showing across his face. Melissa laughed softly with Garcia and Rossi for a moment before Penelope continued on;

“That’s Aaron Hotchner, and his son Jack.” Garcia pointed them out, Jack was playing on his Nintendo DS, only looking up to wave briefly as Hotch reached over to shake Melissa’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” “You too.” She smiled at him.

“Those two lovely ladies are Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss, plus Jennifer’s hubby Will and their adorable son Henry,” they all shook hands with Melissa, and J.J. briefly told her that it wasn’t necessary to call her “Jennifer” but instead “J.J.” as that was the name she was most used to.

“Then, we got Doctor beautiful brain, Spencer Reid.” Spencer looked up, giving Melissa a small wave, finally looking her head on. He had seen her, sure, but he hadn’t made eye contact with her until right now. And damn, she looked wild behind the eyes. And not in a good way. She was perky, seemingly almost as positive as Penelope. But that positivity didn’t reach her eyes. She looked Spencer up and down, and there was something deep in her gaze that made him want to get up and walk to the CIA side of the bleachers. It was clear he was going to have to walk on eggshells around her, and he wished he knew why.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Spencer offered up as a greeting, “You too,” Melissa replied, smiling as she turned on her polite charm again. It was only in her eyes he could see her distaste towards him. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

~

Melissa settled down, sitting next to the rest of the team as they waited for the game to start. She was thankfully seated near Emily, J.J., and Garcia. So Spencer and her’s conversation was limited.

That was until, he was brought up in conversation; “Oh geez- one of the funniest things was when Spence and Morgan got stuck in that elevator together,” J.J. recounted, causing all four of them to laugh; meanwhile Spencer didn’t react. He was still deep in his mind reading, and though he heard his name called, it didn’t cause him to want to stop.

“Yeah- I heard about that from Derek, he said Spencer spouted off some fact about people and elevator deaths because he was scared.” Melissa turned to Spencer as she spoke, giving him an in to speak. Spencer didn’t realize she had even turned to him, as he was fully focusing his brain power on the pages of the book he had read over before.

“Uh.. what’s he doing?” Melissa asked in a hushed voice to J.J., “Oh- he’s just reading. Spencer, hey.” J.J. said, leaning over and tapping his shoulder, finally catching his attention; causing him to open his eyes.

“Sorry- what?” Spencer finally spoke, as he was fully there and listening to them now, instead of somewhat ignoring them and focusing on a memory of a book.

“..J.J. said you were reading?” Melissa asked curiously, obviously confused. Spencer nodded, “Yes. I was. I have an eidetic memory so I can look back at anything I’ve ever read. So sometimes I go back and read books I’ve read before.” Spencer explained awkwardly, “I do it to, uh, pass the time.”

“Hm.. that’s.. that’s cool. Derek mentioned you were smart, recounting lots of facts.” Melissa said slowly, it seemed like she was trying to gain some sort of edge in the conversation, but thankfully Emily butted in casually- not realizing the odd atmosphere that was slowly building.

“Oh yeah- Reid’s always doing that. Talk to him on Halloween and all he talks about is how paganism played a major role in the now very American, very non-pagan holiday.” The girls laughed on innocently as Melissa gained a serious look in her eye again.

“You know everything?” She asked him, “No.” he replied, he was self assured in this field, he knew how to handle himself when people were doubting his intelligence level. “I just know a lot.” He clarified.

Melissa looked like she was ready to speak, say something to him- he had no clue if it would be good or bad. But everyone’s attention got redirected on the whooping sounds both teams made as they entered the field. The game was starting.

~

Spencer had stayed focused on the game, even running statistics and probabilities in his head on who would come out victorious. Rossi made a joke they should bet on the game like people do on horses, and he’d just cheat and use Reid to make sure he won.

The rest of the team didn’t go for that, as they would employ the same strategy as Rossi, and Spencer was smart enough to give them all the wrong answers so he would actually win.

It was now the third inning, J.J. had gone with Hotchner and Will to take a short walk with the kids, as they were getting bored in their seats. Rossi went off to flirt it up with the older woman who was running the concessions stand, and Emily and Garcia had gone off to the bathroom together.

Now it was just Melissa and Reid alone, and Reid didn’t like her company. He didn’t mean it in a rude way, but also maybe he did- for his very stupid and very personal reason that she was actively dating his crush. But besides that reason, she seemed off, and on a team of behavioral analysts, he couldn’t be the only one who noticed.

There was something wrong with her, but Spencer couldn’t place his finger on what. That was, until, she sat down next to him on the bleachers. “So,” she started casually, “what’re you reading up there?” “Pride and Prejudice.. have you read it?” Spencer replied, doing his best to make polite conversation.

Melissa shook her head, “No, way too long of a book for me.” Spencer just nodded, an “Ah” sound escaping his lips before their conversation entirely diminished as they sat in silence, watching the CIA’s team line up for batting.

Derek was on second base, and while he waited for the CIA team to finish lining up, he turned to the only two people still on the bleachers and waved. Melissa waved in response excitedly, “Go Derek!” She shouted for good measure, Reid on the other hand just gave a small wave to him.

Their personalities were very different, Spencer gathered.

“Derek helped you with a bookshelf the other week, right?” Melissa asked after silence had settled over them, and Reid had almost returned to his brain book. Her question stopped him from reading, though.

Spencer nodded, “Uh, yeah. He helped fix my bookshelf, the boards were all wobbly and books couldn’t stay on.” Melissa hummed in response for a moment, before looking back out to the field. Derek was now busy talking to a teammate, a guy Spencer recognized from the terrorist division.

“Look, Spencer,” Melissa finally spoke again, letting out a sigh before she continued on; “We both know Derek is an attractive man, a great man. But he’s my man. I don’t need you confusing him and making him switch sides- believe me, I want to think that you two are just the best of friends and that’s it. But I don’t believe it, not for a second, especially not after hearing how he talks about you, and finally meeting you.”

Spencer stayed quiet, not looking at Melissa, instead opting to stare at his hands, that were now firmly clasped together as he took in what she was saying. “We are just friends, though..” Spencer finally spoke up in a weak defense for himself. Melissa just chuckled, their pleasant conversation had somehow turned to her speaking to him in a sickly sweet malicious tone.

“I don’t think you are. I think there’s something more, and I don’t want things to go any further- with either of you.”

Spencer stayed quiet again, seriously considering exiting the bleachers and getting a cab (as the team had carpooled over to this event together.) and just leaving, going back to his apartment and faking the stomach flu for a day and a half. It seemed so appealing to just disappear right now.

Melissa continued on after she realized Spencer wasn’t going to say anything. “I’m not trying to be the bad guy here, Spencer. You seem very kind, and smart. You told me earlier you don’t know everything, but you know a lot,”

Spencer nodded, that was true, he had said that, she kept going; “I hope you now know where your place is. Away from Derek. And I hope you know you aren’t alone with me talking to you, I would be telling Penelope Garcia the same exact thing, except she has a boyfriend, Kevin. Derek told me. So you’re the only single one who poses a problem. I hope we can be friends- but you need to back up.”

And that was all, she got up and moved away, and just in time as Emily and Garcia made their reappearance from the bathroom and onto the bleachers.

Spencer stayed frozen, however. Not really sure what he could say or do. All he knew now is that he had a very good reason to dislike Melissa. And he did, as much as he hated to admit it. He disliked Melissa, he wanted her gone. He didn’t want her and Derek together.

He was now only more sure that he would treat Derek better, he wouldn’t go around threatening his friends- he couldn’t even imagine that as something he would ever want to do.

Spencer stayed, shrunken on the bleachers as he watched the team play, staying quiet and reserved while Melissa and the rest of the team cheered.

Spencer just hoped Derek figured out that Melissa wasn’t good for him sooner than later, or else he’d never get out of the relationship scratch-free.

~

“Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn out jeans. I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be. Laughin’ on the park bench thinking to myself, ‘hey isn’t this easy?’. And you got a smile that could light up this whole town. I haven’t seen it in a while since she brought you down. You say you’re fine I know you better than that. Hey, whatcha doing with a girl like that?”

~

Since Spencer’s unfortunate encounter with Melissa, he had done his best to steer clear of Derek. Only being with him when necessary (and they were only really together for work, though for the few latest times that Derek’s invited him out to get food or see a movie, Spencer’s declined).

Derek had subtly caught notice, wondering why Reid had been declining his invitations. At first he thought it was because Reid was busy, he was somehow also getting a bachelors degree in philosophy at the moment, it made since if he had limited free time.

But then he did more thinking, and even if reid was busy- he always made time for Derek. Morgan knew that for a fact, because every time he needed help (work related or not) Spencer was there, and ready to assist. Even if Reid was studying, the kid read so fast he only needed to read something once to remember everything. So it didn’t make sense. Not at all. Spencer was avoiding him.

So why? Derek now had to get alone with Reid, he needed to see what this was about.

~

And Derek got his chance, after solving a case in the sleepy city within Maine, called Rangeley. The teams plane was having a malfunction issue with a part of the engine, so they were stuck there for an extra day. Unfortunate for everyone else, but a blessing in disguise for Derek. It was the perfect time for the team to hang together, maybe get some meals or see a movie. But Derek set up a plan.

~

Morgan knocked on Spencer’s door the morning they had nothing to do, with his plan already getting set in motion. This was step one, of many.

Reid responded in his own special fashion, opening the door a crack to look out at Derek and into the hall, his hair looked messy, he was still slightly bleary eyed- and he was still in his pajamas and mismatched socks. He had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Derek asked, he didn’t want to start this morning off on Reid being rudely awoken. Reid nodded as he opened the door more, stepping forward the slightest bit. “Yeah, but it’s okay. What’s going on?” Reid was already aware of the plane situation, the whole team had been told last night, which forced Derek into making this last minute plan.

“Nothing- the team doesn’t have anything to do. Wanna go get breakfast?” Derek asked, trying to phrase his words and himself casually. He didn’t want Reid to get suspicious and back out. He just wanted answers from his best friend, that’s all.

Spencer rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before responding. “Okay, yeah. Let me go get changed.”

~

They arrived at an Ihop. It wasn’t anything special, but it was the nearest breakfast place to the hotel, so it worked for them. They were greeted by a hostess who showed them to a booth.

Spencer didn’t know why he agreed this this, he shouldn’t have. But in his half-awake and still somehow sleep deprived mind, breakfast seemed like a good idea. A great idea, in fact. But he now was anxious again. He didn’t want to deal with Melissa, call him scared, nonconfrontational, weak- whatever. He just didn’t want to have to deal with her. He enjoyed hanging out with Derek, but he knew if he did then it would be inevitable that he would end up facing her wrath again.

Almost immediately after the hostess showed them to their booth, their waiter appeared to take their orders. “Goodmorning, what can I get started for you two?” The older gentleman, whose name tag simply read “John” asked them.

“Just some coffee, please.” Derek ordered for the both of them. He knew what Spencer would want to order, and he also knew how bad Spencer was at conversing with people he wasn’t familiar enough with. John just nodded, saying a quick; “Comin’ right up!” Before walking off to leave them alone.

“Is the rest of the team coming?” Spencer asked as he stifled a yawn with his hand. Derek shook his head, “No, they all wanted to sleep in. Lucky I dragged you out of bed, though.” He joked, hoping to lighten the mood in the room. Spencer just smiled sheepishly for a moment before looking back down at the table.

They stayed quiet, which wasn’t unusual for the two, especially considering they were both still tired. But Derek didn’t want there to be silence, he wanted to talk about what was going on. “Reid-“ he started, but before he could continue his sentence, John was standing by the table with a pot of coffee. Derek and Spencer both wordlessly pushed their mugs over towards John, watching him fill them up with coffee in silence.

John finished pouring and stepped back, “I’ll give you folks some more time before ordering.” Derek just nodded at him, “That would be great, thank you.” And with that, their waiter was gone.

Reid was now focused on his mug of coffee, grabbing some sugar packets from the container on the table and ripping one open after another, before finally pouring it into his coffee. “How many sugars you plan on putting in there?” “Two.” “You’re already ripping open a third packet, Reid.”

“Oh.” Was all he said in response, Derek sighed, Spencer wasn’t acting right; he hadn’t for a while but this morning was peak Reid-being-weird, so Derek needed to take a stronger approach; “Reid. What’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong.” Spencer said all too quickly to be believable. Derek rolled his eyes, watching the tired genius grab a spoon and stir his coffee with an intensity he never normally used. “That doesn’t work on me, man. We’re all profilers. I know when something’s up.” Spencer stayed quiet, still stirring his coffee with the spoon.

Reid didn’t want to be in this situation. He knew he should’ve hidden himself better, said and acted in different ways. Derek knew something was up, and Spencer couldn’t hide it forever. Especially not from him. He hated lying to Morgan.

“So..” Spencer spoke quietly, “What do you think is up?” Derek rolled his eyes at Spencer again, “Don’t talk to me like an unsub trying to stall. Somethings wrong. Did I do something- was it something I did or said?” Spencer put his spoon down as he watched Derek.

“I gotta be honest, Reid. I don’t know what’s going on here. We used to hangout so much, and suddenly you’re giving me the cold shoulder. I thought it was because of your studies- but you’ve done written whole thesesis while we’ve hungout. So it’s not you being busy with school. You make time. Why isn’t there any time now?” Derek kept going, voice raising in intensity as he got to the end.

Spencer wanted to say something, he wanted to say something so bad. But he didn’t know what. So instead he took a sip of his not-sweet-enough coffee. Derek watched him as he did so, intensity not wavering.

Spencer put the mug back down onto the table before he finally found his words, “It’s not you. You didn’t do anything.” “So what is it?” Morgan asked him almost instantly. Spencer sighed, he didn’t want to say it was Melissa. He couldn’t, he didn’t want to make Derek feel bad, he thought Derek was happy with her. He didn’t want to ruin that, even if Melissa was terrible. Derek was seemingly glad, and Spencer didn’t want him changing from positive to anything else (except somehow maybe more positive.)

“It’s nothing.” “It’s definitely not nothing, Reid. Please tell me.” Derek pried more. He couldn’t let this go. Spencer sighed, a weak sign of defeat. “Okay- but. I’m sorry. This involves Melissa.” He admitted, looking up to see Derek had a confused expression on his face. “What about her?” “When we went to the baseball game a few weeks ago and met her. She was really pleasant at first, but as soon as we were alone on the bleachers together she told me that I needed to stop being so close with you. And it really freaked me out, she saw me as a threat.”

Derek leaned back in the booth bench, unsure of what to do. “What did she say?” Derek finally asked after a moment, deciding he wanted to know what Melissa said to Spencer in full to make him act like this. Spencer didn’t deserve to be treated this way, he just didn’t. “I’m not going to-“ Spencer started, Derek just cut him off, “Yes you will. I know you remember what she said. So tell me. Please.”

Spencer fidgeted with the handle of the mug, “Okay, okay.. she said that you were her man and then she said, ‘I don’t need you confusing him and making him switch sides’...” Spencer spoke once more after that, before he could forget, “She also, um.. she said she would tell Garcia the same thing, except she didn’t because she knew she was with kevin.”

Derek stayed quiet, looking at Spencer before looking back down at his mug of coffee. Spencer stayed quiet, he didn’t know what he could say or do right now to make this better.

“I’m sorry.” Spencer finally decided to speak after it had been silent for a few minutes. “I didn’t want to tell you because you-“

Derek held his hand up as a simple gesture, indicating Spencer should be quiet. Spencer hushed up quickly, watching Morgan, who was sitting silently still, staring down with an intensity that could burn stronger than the sun. He stood up after a moment, pulling out his wallet and putting two twenty dollar bills down on the table, in front of Spencer. “For the coffee. Get some breakfast, too. I need to go.” “Derek, I-“ Spencer started, standing up, he wasn’t gonna leave Derek alone, especially to process this large amount of information. but he had started walking away, back turned to reid- leaving him alone at the booth. He wasn’t going to come back, and as much as Spencer wanted to follow him and never leave his side- he could tell he should leave him alone, at least for now.

~

After that whole experience, Spencer didn’t stay to get breakfast. He finished his coffee, paid, and left quickly. Deciding Derek needed space, and he wasn’t sure what else he could do, so he tucked tail back to the hotel. He lied to himself, saying maybe he could nap or watch T.V and ignore his imploding thoughts.

He couldn’t ignore his imploding thoughts, if that wasn’t painstakingly obvious. Spencer’s mind reeled from every aspect of their breakfast, to how he was curt and almost rude to Derek- he now wished he hadn’t been, but how else could he have acted? He didn’t know. He hated how things had went. He should’ve lied and told Derek he didn’t have the time for breakfast.

So, when Spencer finally got the hotel, he sat and thought and waited, waited for any sounds outside of his hotel door. Derek’s room was directly across the hall from his. So he waited for the sounds of the door opening, the beeping of the keycard, the sound of footsteps that were muffled by the soft carpet. Anything that would show Derek was back, back close to him, close enough to him for a conversation again. Because he knew that they needed to talk.

~

Spencer was counting. One hour and eighteen minutes passed before he heard any sounds of life that would match what he was waiting for. Namely, he heard the footsteps approach by his door, and then the beep of the keycard. And finally, the door opening and shutting quickly. Derek was there, he was back, Spencer got off his perch on the bed in record speed, exiting out to the hall and crossing quickly.

He was about to knock on the door, hand raised in the air, before he slowed himself down. Was this too much? What if Morgan didn’t want to talk to right now? What if Derek thought he was lying and was mad? Oh god, that terrified Spencer. He hoped Derek knew he wasn’t lying, he could run any behavior test he wanted to, but he wouldn’t lie to Derek. Not now, not ever.

Spencer still had his hand raised in the air, standing directly in front of the door. If Derek thought he was lying, he would prove he wasn’t. Nothing mattered right now, Spencer decided as he took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

Spencer heard movement from inside the room, before Derek opened the door. He looked stressed, the lines in his face were hard set, this was how he looked when he dealt with an unsub. This isn’t how he should be looking on a day off. Derek said nothing as he looked at Spencer, “Can we talk?” Spencer asked him after it was clear Derek wasn’t going to start talking.

Derek nodded. Wordlessly opening the door more, and stepping back to allow Reid inside. He stepped in, Derek’s room was a mirror copy of Spencer’s, simple and small. He had his duffel sat on the floor by the small twin bed provided by the hotel.

Reid stood in the room, Derek moved past him to sit down on the edge of the bed as Spencer messed with some loose thread on his jacket, “I, um... I got your change..” Spencer started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wad of cash and coins. He wasn’t sure what to say now that he was inside Derek’s room. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, so he wasn’t sure how to prepare. Derek wasn’t acting like himself, so he didn’t know what would work.

Spencer went to hand it back to him, “Reid, no.” Derek started, causing Spencer to stop in his tracks, holding the money in silence.

“You didn’t come here for that.” Derek motioned to the money with his hand. “No. I didn’t.” Spencer mumbled awkwardly, shoving it back into his jacket pocket, the coins clinking together all too loudly for his liking.

“I’m sorry.” Derek sighed after a moment, “I shouldn’t have ran off like that. It’s just- I couldn’t believe what you were saying.” Spencer nodded, he wanted to say so much to Derek. He wanted to say, “I swear on my mother I am not lying”, he wanted to say “I’m sorry, I should have stayed quiet” he wanted to say “I care about you so much and I don’t want to see you walk away, I don’t want to lose you”. But Spencer couldn’t talk, he wasn’t sure what would come out if he spoke.

“I, uh, I called Melissa.” Derek told him, “After I left. I called her, I asked her if she said that to you, and she said she didn’t say it like that,” He took a breath before continuing on, “I asked her what she meant, because she wasn’t denying what she said. She just was saying the wording was off.”

Spencer found his small, awkward voice, deciding to look down at the floor instead of Derek. He was scared of what he would see. “What did she say the wording was?” He asked Derek, “She said she was harsher than that, told you to back off. Then she tried to explain herself, as if any of what she did was acceptable and could be fine under the disguise of caring for your significant other.”

“Reid, look at me. Please.” Derek sighed, not continuing whatever else he was going to say. Spencer finally looked up to meet his eyes. Derek just looked tired, leaning awkwardly on the couch, as he kept his gaze on Spencer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause this.” Spencer apologized, he had no clue if he needed to. But it felt like what he had to do.

“No, don’t.” Derek shook his head, as if to knock the apology out of his brain. “Thank you for telling me. Thank you. The red flags were there, Reid. And there were so many. I was just ignoring them.”

Spencer stayed quiet, watching Derek as he admitted this out loud; “I just- I wanted to make it work. But the fact she said that to you, and was gonna tell garcia, I just-“ Derek shook his head again, a mixture of defeat and anger simultaneously now instead of a signal for reid to stop.

“It upset me. I couldn’t believe it. So I called her and that happened and... and...” Derek trailed off, sighing simply as if that was the end of the sentence.

“...You broke up?” Spencer asked carefully, not wanting to misjudge. Derek nodded, rubbing his face with both hands. He was stressed. Spencer could tell.

“We did. It’s for the best. I can’t be dating someone who is like that. Especially not to you, or Garcia. That’s the biggest deal breaker out there.” Derek spoke, he was still serious but he was also sort of joking in a way to help calm the atmosphere down.

Spencer didn’t respond right away, instead moving to sit down on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from Morgan to give him plenty space. Derek didn’t like that, pulling on Spencer’s hand and motioning him to sit directly by his side.

Spencer complied, but cursed his face for causing a blush to form. This wasn’t the time to savor the feeling of Derek’s strong grip on his hand. It wasn’t.

Spencer was now sat down next to Derek, he wasn’t sure what else to say, so he stayed quiet. But he knew he didn’t want to leave Derek’s side now. He needed to be here. It couldn’t be easy for Derek.

“I’m sorry I left you at the restaurant.” Derek spoke after a while of them sitting side by side. “It’s okay,” Spencer told him, Derek gave him a sideways glance that proved he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“I didn’t end up having breakfast, though. I was worried.” Spencer admitted. Derek let out a low chuckle, and god, Spencer loved that sound. When was the last time he heard it? It used to be as common as hearing traffic in downtown Quantico, but as of lately; he hadn’t heard it often. Spencer knew in the back of his head, it was probably Melissa. Small things had changed with Derek during their time of dating.

First, it was calling Spencer “pretty boy”, and Garcia “baby girl”. Derek stopped saying it, and as much as garcia was worried about him, Derek had assured her he was okay. (Spencer didn’t mind the nickname stopping, as he finally didn’t have to come up with an excuse every time he blushed in front of the team when Derek would call him that.)

But then, Derek showed up to work looking tired, and sure- the job took long hours and restless nights and way too many coffee breaks. But he looked like he was losing that energy in his eyes. The excitement that made him join the team. He had told Spencer it was originally he missed Melissa. But now, Spencer was second guessing that.

Things had slowly changed with Derek, so small that Spencer didn’t even notice fully. But if you looked at all the reasons why he changed, it could be tied back to Melissa.

Good riddance. Spencer thought to himself. In ordinary situations, he would hate to think that, but today he didn’t; as he heard Derek’s soft, low chuckle. He didn’t want to ever stop see Derek being himself. He wouldn’t stop him from anything, he knew he wouldn’t. All he would want to do is care about him, kiss him, fall asleep in his arms, have a nice dinner with him- things a real boyfriend would do.

He would let Derek be himself, he wouldn’t stop him from working, he wouldn’t want to fight, he wouldn’t want to play games, and god knows he wouldn’t stop Derek and Garcia flirting. That’s what kept them happy, together, and secure.

“I’m sorry you guys broke up, but if it’s any consolation. You belong with someone better.” Spencer admitted, not adding on the last part he always wanted to say. If he could say it, lord knows he would. But he couldn’t tell Derek they belonged together. He sounded insane.

Derek softy bumped shoulders with him in an act of thanks, “Thank you. Now c’mon, let’s go get you some real breakfast, pretty boy.” He said as he stood up, the blush immediately rushed back into Spencer’s face. God, that name would be the death of him. He was seriously going to die like this.

“You still got my change? ‘Cause you’re paying.” Derek joked with him as he turned to pull on his coat, “It’s your money, why don’t I give it back to you?” Spencer asked him, the conversation now changing to a much lighter tone. Derek shrugged, “You paying a cashier will help your people skills. Now c’mon, I saw a good restaurant with outdoor seating that’s by a garden. You can give me plant facts while we eat.”

~

“...Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night. I’m the one who makes you laugh when you know you’re ‘bout to cry. And I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams. Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me...”

~

Derek’s growing love for Spencer Reid was so slow he didn’t realize it until it was bursting out of his chest. It wasn’t obvious, it wasn’t, at least not to Derek. But suddenly it was everything Spencer did, it had his attention and captivated his thoughts. If Spencer was rambling about something, Derek would listen. Even if he didn’t care, even if he was tired, or hungry, or even mad.

To put it simply, it was every single thing that Spencer had ever done for him, suddenly making Derek feel something. It was every little funny thing Spencer did, it was every factoid he spat out to the team at the round table, it was how he was there for everyone in less than a second if needed, it was how Spencer complained about modern television, it was how Spencer grumbled in his sleep when they had to wake him up to get off the team’s jet after a long case. It was everything.

Every one of those instances just made something inside Derek squirm. Before, when Derek was dating Melissa- he was able to hold that feeling at bay. But it had now been months since his and Melissa’s breakup, and he had nothing to stop his mind from thinking about Reid, so the feelings and thoughts about the genius only grew stronger.

He thought about him nonstop. About how Reid was precious, amazing, handsome, smart, and god- he was borderline perfect. And what had originally started as a small inkling feeling inside of him was growing, growing into something almost unmanageable. It took everything in Derek not to just lean over and grab the genius’ hand as he was waving it around when speaking about something he was passionate about, and holding it tightly.

It was getting worse, day by day it was hell at work. But it was the best suffering in the world. Seeing Spencer sat at his desk, deep in thought as he typed reports out, along with emailing scientists and doctors on the side. God, Reid was an absolute genius. Morgan wasn’t sure if he could easily get over that fact anymore as he used to. Now Spencer’s smarts had more meaning, and he wasn’t sure why.

Spencer’s smarts always mattered, and definitely came in handy for the team, saving their asses more than once. But now, his IQ level was something Derek caught himself almost worrying about.

Spencer wouldn’t ever say it, but what if he thought Derek was stupid? The brawn to his brain. Nothing more than a dude to tackle the bad guys and handcuff them down. What if Spencer thought he wasn’t a good person, a good friend?

Now, along with the growing admiration, he also had growing fear. Derek was now going back and forth between doubting himself and wanting nothing more than pulling Spencer into a janitors closet and kissing him until they needed air.

Yeah, Derek was screwed. Work was painful. But he wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t. Even if he wanted to, he kept going along, because every day he saw Reid that feeling inside him only grew, and he didn’t have the willpower to stop it, and even if he did- he probably couldn’t. This was the strongest he had ever felt in a long time. It would take an army to stop how he felt (and even then, he might still beat the army).

~

The night it all went down wasn’t what derek intended it to be, he was pretty much planning on hiding his crush on reid to the grave, not admitting it to anyone ever about how he felt. Because as Derek saw it, Spencer was too smart for him. Definitely out of his league.

Because in Morgan’s mind, how dumb could he be? He had been slowly falling in love with his best friend, all while not even realizing it- and dating someone who was absolutely horrid during that entire process. It was enough to make him smack his head against his wall.

~

Derek was working late the night it happened, going over this same dilemma in his head as he finished up the last of his reports to turn over to Hotch.

Nothing was happening in the bullpen, and for the first time in forever, Spencer had left before the work day ended. He had been complaining of a stomachache, and Rossi had smartly deduced he was sick, and even though Reid didn’t want to leave- the team all but kicked him out the door, telling him he wasn’t any good working when feeling like vomiting.

Derek had missed him since he left, he felt stupid admitting that, but it was the plain and simple truth. His days were just better with Reid, and there was no other explanation than that. As stupid as it was, Derek had come to agree with that fact a while ago, and now it was just normal, him missing Reid. But thankfully Reid didn’t leave often enough for it to be bad.

That being said, Derek still worried. Deciding to call Reid, it was only 7 p.m., after all. Surely Reid was still awake.

His cell phone ringed as Derek held it up to his ear, twirling his pen absentmindedly between his index and pointer finger as he waited for Spencer to answer.

And he did, he sounded groggy, but he answered; “Hello?” “Hey, Reid.” Derek spoke, a small stupid smile creeping its way into his face. “How are you feeling?” He asked, he heard Spencer shuffling on the other end of the line, then the faucet running.

“I’m okay... just really dizzy now, so I got myself some water.” “Did you eat enough today?” Derek asked him, changing tones from a concerned friend to something more.

“Yes, I did. You don’t need to worry about my eating.” Reid said simply, he wasn’t the type of guy who liked being watched over. Derek understood why, but this was still necessary.

“Reid, c’mon now. When was the last time you ate?”

“11:23 a.m., Garcia gave me a muffin.” Spencer admitted after a beat of silence, “Reid, you’ve been not eating for almost eight hours- no wonder you felt so sick, man!” Derek said into the phone as he stood up, shrugging his jacket onto his shoulders, deciding to leave now. The reports were almost done, anyway.

“Well, I’m not hungry so it’s fine..” Reid argued weakly in response, “Oh no, no. Don’t even, Spencer. I’m getting you food and taking it to your place. Now go lay down and take some tylenol, drink that water you got.”

Spencer huffed weakly, but made no move to argue or protest Morgan inviting himself over. “Fine. Please get me chicken noodle soup.”

~

As agreed, Derek got Spencer some chicken noodle soup from a great nearby deli Spencer had told him about a while ago. Derek was proud of himself for this choice in food, even if Spencer had requested soup, he hadn’t requested where. And Derek felt smart for remembering one of Spencer’s favorite places.

Derek arrived to Spencer’s apartment, the door was left unlocked so he came in, carrying the container of soup in both of his hands, so he pushed the front door shut gently with his foot.

“Hey, Reid. I’m here,” he called out into the apartment, as he made his way to the bedroom, finding a sleeping Spencer on the bed, covered in a few miscellaneous blankets to keep him warm.

Derek sat the container of soup onto the nearby bedside table, next to spencer’s near empty water glass, before looking down at reid.

Spencer was perfect, regardless if he was awake or asleep. But asleep he was so peaceful, so calm. Derek could so easily keep Spencer safe from everything in his sleep, hold him in his arms and help ground him. He knew Spencer got nightmares, everyone on the team did. But he knew if he was there, he could help, he could make it better.

Spencer was breathing softly, his face looked slightly flushed, and his hair was all over the place, some strands had fallen onto his face directly, which Derek gently pushed out of the way to get a better look at Spencer.

“Mmm..” Spencer mumbled in his sleep, a response to Derek touching him, Derek took a sharp breath in. God, he wanted to just tell Spencer right now he felt, he so badly did. And Spencer was asleep, what was stopping him? He could say it and Spencer wouldn’t remember. Because unlike conscious Spencer, unconscious Spencer didn’t remember things.

So before his brain could catch up to his body, he did. “I love you.” He told Spencer softly, it was barely above a whisper. It was so quiet he was sure Spencer didn’t hear it at all, but it was just Derek’s unfortunate luck that Spencer started to stir.

“Hm?” He asked, sitting up slowly, Derek pulled his hand away from where he had tucked the strand of hair away.

“I said, I brought you soup.” Derek lied easily, hoping that “I love you” and “I brought you soup” were interchangeable sounding sentences. Spencer just nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes slowly as he turned to look at the container on his bedside table

He didn’t suspect anything, Derek let a breath of relief out internally as Spencer reached for the container. “It didn’t come with a spoon, so I’ll go get you one.” Derek told him, getting up to go back into Spencer’s kitchen and grab a spoon from the silverware drawer.

When Derek came back, Spencer was more awake, holding the container of soup in his hands expectantly as he waited. Derek handed him the spoon wordlessly, before sitting down on the bed next to Spencer. “How are you feeling?” Derek asked him, as Spencer hadn’t tried out the soup yet (he was waiting for it to cool a bit more.) “Tired- sorry I left, by the way.” Reid responded slowly, he still felt the tiniest bit groggy.

Derek shook his head, “No Reid, don’t apologize. Are you feeling any better?” Spencer nodded slowly in response, starting to stir the soup to help it cool down. Derek watched him, the soft light from the only lamp on in the room casted off shadows throughout the walls and onto Spencer. He looked beautiful, even if he was wearing pajamas and his hair was messy and he was stirring his soup while half awake.

To Derek, he looked perfect. And once again, Derek’s body moved too fast for his brain to catch up with. He was suddenly talking; “Reid, can I tell you something?” He asked the tired genius, who just nodded and gave an “Mhm” sound in return as he continued to stir his soup.

Derek breathed in, he couldn’t go back. It was now or never. He turned to face Spencer, and if he hated him after this, so be it.

“I was an idiot, Spencer. When I was with Melissa, searching for a good moment to stay happy about was rare. But the entire time I’ve known you, everything’s been a good moment. Every opportunity I’ve had with you has let me grow and become smarter, and a better person..” he took a second to look back at Spencer, who was now looking at him with an expression he couldn’t read.

“But I’ve still been stupid. Because the entire time I was with her, I only looked forward to being with you. I missed the best thing right in front of me, and I hope you know that I am not normally this dense... but..” this was the hardest part of his whole speech, how the fuck was he supposed to admit something like this?

“But,” he started again, “I like you, Reid. I really like you. This entire time I was chasing the wrong person and following dead leads, like a rookie on a new case. But I realize the only person that makes me feel anything is you- and... I think, I- no. I am. I am falling for you. And I don’t even know if you like guys but-“ It was by this point Spencer put his soup down back on his bedside table, the soft sound shut Derek up easily.

“You’re falling for me?” Spencer asked, just simply clarifying what he had said. Morgan nodded, standing by it. “Yes. I am.”

Spencer breathed out a sigh of relief, something Derek hadn’t expected him to do. “You aren’t stupid... I- um. I’ve been falling for you too.”

That made Derek light up instantly, “You have?” Spencer nodded sheepishly, staring down at his fingernails instead of Derek. “I wasn’t expecting you to...” Spencer mumbled, as if that was a sufficient enough explanation on his part on why he was relieved and surprised.

“It just snuck up on me. I can’t get you out of my head, you’re all I want.” Derek admitted, more brashly than he would’ve liked to phrased things. But that didn’t seem to bother Spencer at all, as he started to lean forward slowly, Derek leaned forward too, reaching up to put his hand on the side of Spencer’s face to help him stay steady. Their lips were inches apart, but Spencer spoke. “Derek, I want to kiss you so bad. But if I’m sick I don’t want to risk infecting you-“

“Pretty boy, I’m breathing your air already. And I don’t think you have the flu, just low blood sugar.” Derek told him, which quickly shushed Reid up. They leaned forward more, and all the feelings of angst and dread that had built up between the two disintegrated as their lips touched slowly.

It was a soft kiss, a chaste one. But there definitely was passion behind it. Morgan stayed close to Spencer, resting his forehead against his.

“I belong with you...” Derek mumbled, he didn’t care if Spencer heard it anymore. He should hear it, he deserved to hear it. He deserved to know he was the only one Derek wanted.

Spencer pulled back, a small smile playing on his lips the entire time. “I can’t believe it...” he mumbled to Derek after a moment. “You should. You said it yourself, I belong with someone better. And it’s you. I just hope you agree.” Derek told him honestly, not leaving anything he said to chance. Spencer nodded, “Yes- you belong with me. Absolutely, yes. I agree.”

Derek smiled, pushing a loose strand of hair back behind spencer’s ear, before leaning forward and planting a soft kiss on Spencer’s forehead. “You eat that soup, I’ll go get you some more water.”

———————————————————————

[bippityboppitybibuck]

This ficlet is written for and inspired by @valleydeans A Ghost Story. It contains spoilers to the entire story, so please don’t read this if you haven’t finished reading it yet. Wc:1400, no extra warnings (warnings for original fic stand) Italicizes mark establishing narrative the rest is in Cas’ POV.

It first plays on the old radio that sits attached to the bottom of one of the kitchen cupboards in the townhouse. Both Sam and Dean forgot it existed, left behind by the previous tenants, since they never had cause to use it but it was simple enough that Cas managed to get it turned on.

Granted it was only because the button was labeled Power; Cas knows even a moron could have figured that one out.

Cas didn't know how to change what music played at first, so he pressed buttons until something happened and took note of the outcomes. Seek seemed to be his friend, AM did not, and one afternoon while Dean and Sam were out at class or work or the library - there were so many places for Dean to be now, back before his resurrection Cas could have just walked around the grounds of the manor until he came upon him but now Dean is as hard for Cas to find as his place in this new time is - he finds a station that played a lovely song with a piano (Sam later told him it was an ‘indie station’, he doesn’t know how to tell him that he has no idea what that means) soft lyrics fell upon his ears and he lost his afternoon to meaneal tasks while the music floated from the small machine.

He takes notice of a song that starts to play only because it is in such contrast to the music the machine has been playing for the better part of the afternoon. There's a heaviness to the melody, an intensity that the other songs lacked, he spends much of the song listening only to the instruments.

The only line that actually sinks in after that first listen is “there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin” and he can’t understand why his chest seems to expand against his ribs while his lungs squeeze themselves together because he’s never heard the type of lyric that was made to hit you square in the chest because, well, there’s not been a lot of music listening aside from piano and string quartets in his life.

He asks Sam how to learn the words in a song and Sam shows him how to get to a ‘Google tab’ so he can look up the song (Sam reckons a genius lyrics page might be a little too much for Cas). He types the words he remembers into the ‘Google’, and is decidedly confused by what can only be the name of the song. Take Me to Church, while a lovely name, stands out like a sore thumb in his head alongside the titles of the pieces he aimed to perfect in his old life.

He spends as much time as possible over the next three days listening to the song on ‘Youtube’ while he reads the lyrics, he just barely manages to stop himself from writing the lyrics out on paper so he can look at them when he’s away from a computer (like when Dean heads to school with his laptop and he can’t listen unless the machine - a ‘radio’ apparently - decides to play it)

Each line draws him in and pushes him away in equal measure, humor for Cas doesn’t mean laughing at a funeral it means Dean teasing him, tickling him, smiling as he waits for the joke to land on Cas’ ears. But still they all seem to resonate beyond what he thought was possible, Dean was always met with disapproval, he always wanted to worship him in any way he could, even now he curses the moments they could have had together if only one of them had been braver before the night spent in their clearing.

“We were born sick / you heard them say it” and “I was born sick, but I love it” stop his breath cold on every listen. He doesn’t allow himself to look too deeply into that, he’s long since accepted himself and delving into beliefs of a time long since past does no one any good.

What strikes him as odd is that there's a violence to the love and devotion that he can’t really understand, worshipping like a dog and revealing your sins to the sound of steel being honed isn't how he loves Dean, isn't how he sees Dean as his salvation, he writes hymns inspired by Dean. He doesn’t, could never, equate his devotion to something so lacking in softness, not when he can still feel the tufts of Dean’s hair under his nose or the petals of the roses Dean winded up the trellis on the side of his balcony.

The focus on a violent love turns him off from the song but there’s a pull in his mind with each iteration of “offer me my deathless death” he knows enough to know it might be a reference to sexual pleasure but he can't shake that something about the line draws him in, what with his death being undone when Dean brought him back.

The bridge, as the website calls it (Sam does eventually end up showing Cas the genius page), he reads the most, over and over and over and he thinks how it was just him and Dean in those stolen moments, how the doctrine he was told to follow labelled him a sinner but with Dean that didn't matter, it didn't even filter into the moment. The ritual the man sings of, the scene that plays out with it, becoming clean, human, he can’t even put words to why that settles so deeply into his chest, why it makes sense to him even though he never truly felt dirty about the things he and Dean did, the love they shared. But the truth of the matter is that Dean made him human again that night in the manor, and in doing so made him clean, clean of the never ending hell of the manor, just like he had promised to do all that time ago.

“Let me give you my life” sits heavy in his skull, it scratches at something deep within his brain for weeks. Ever since he first took the words into his head something about them made him think of them. It didn’t make sense though, Cas’ death hadn’t given Dean his life. Hell Cas’ death almost surely led to Dean’s own. So why would this lyric stick with him?

It's about a month after the successful ritual that he hears the song again, a fluke video on ‘autoplay’ on the youtube tab Dean keeps open for him. Let me give you my life. Let me give you my life. Cold fingers dance along the hairs at the nape of his neck, blood covers his hands, a redo, a trade off. Let me give you my life. And then a trade again, Dean to him this time. Let me give you my life. Good god, let me give you my life. The weeks spent ruminating over the line make sense now, as though some deep part of him always knew of the choice he made that night, the choice to save his love, the choice to give his life for the only thing that ever made him feel alive.

In the wake of his completed reincarnation, the sloughing off of death’s hold on him, the song takes on intense new meaning, which is no surprise really. His heaven is and has always been the moments he and Dean spend alone together, afternoons in the music room or midnights spent wrapped around each other. His lover is the sunlight, to keep the goddess on their side Cas and then Dean offered their sacrifices. Deathless deaths in multiples, love is worth more than what Sunday’s used to hold.

One night he plays the song for Dean, when the spring shoots are digging their way to the surface and the snowdrops are withering. He says nothing when Dean’s hold on him tightens as the song plays, he doesn't mention the hitches in his husband’s breath or the redness in his eyes when Dean hits replay on the song. He doesn’t bring up the way this song seems to recount their story with startling accuracy, he knows Dean understands. Take Me to Church... they needn’t worry, they’ve already reached salvation.

Sam sneaks the song into the playlist for the reception, their guests assume it’s just another popular song with a decent beat but for them it’s undoubtedly more.

[out-of-jams]

One Chance || myg

(Amazing, incredibly badass banner made by @kimtaehyunq​ )

↠ One Chance ↞ Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project.

And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Genre: College!au. Music producer!Yoongi x Singer!Reader. Fluff. Explicit language. Some angst. Mentions of alcohol. s2l. Oneshot.

A/n: Hey all you cool cats and kittens. Hope you’re all staying safe out there! I wasn’t intending to write this, but I had no other choice.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Min Yoongi.

The name stared up at you in size twelve font, black letters printed onto the white sheeted paper. Every other word on the page blurred around the edges as you tried to place a face to the name. You weren’t good with names, never had been. So with a sigh, you leaned to the side and mumbled to the girl sitting next to you in class.

“Hey, who’s Min Yoongi?”

She--Mira? Mina? something like that--glanced up from her portfolio opened up on the desk and shot you a disbelieving look. You couldn’t blame her, not really. It was nearing the end of the semester and your vocal class had worked with the music production class multiple times throughout the course of the year. Neither class was very big, so you probably should have known the names of all twenty students. Total. Ten in each class.

But hey, in your defense you’d had a lot on your plate, seeing as how you were about to graduate from university and all. Which was a pretty big deal, so memorizing the names of people you only saw a few times ever-so-often wasn’t high up on your list of priorities.

But Min Yoongi.

You recognized him the moment you saw the soft outline of his profile through the glass window of the studio door a day later. He had his attention trained on whatever was on his laptop screen, pale hand sliding across the mousepad. His dark brows were pinched in concentration and you could see the tip of his tongue digging into the side of his cheek.

Even though the overly-bright lights in the room were on, the guy still somehow managed to blend in with the slate grey walls. Hell, his icy blond hair was the only color to stand out amongst all the black clothing. The oversized hoodie and black joggers he wore looked comfortable, and had you glancing down at your own outfit self-consciously. Had the sweater, skirt and high heeled boots combo been too much? Should you have dressed down a little?

Whatever. It was too late now.

Watching him through the door made you feel like some kind of stalking creep, but you couldn’t help it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times and recognized him from whenever your classes joined together and was a little disappointed at yourself for not recognizing his name. Even though you'd never spoken a word to him before, you were a little apprehensive about being partnered together. Min Yoongi had a reputation, and not a very good one. Sure, he was talented at what he did, producing music, to the point where a lot of people in the music department called him a genius. But he was known for being standoffish. Rude. And could cut someone down with a few words from his naturally pouty lips.

You didn’t like to judge a book by its cover, or by the rumors that circulated about them. However, that did nothing for the intimidating aura that bled from the man like cologne the second you stepped foot into the room.

He didn’t even pause in whatever he was doing to spare you a glance. Just announced in a dry, rumbling voice, “You’re late.”

“Uh.” You hesitated halfway into the room, the door swinging shut behind you automatically. Two seconds in and he already hated you. Great. “Sorry. I got lost.”

That made him look up and watch as you pulled the only other rolling chair back from the desk and plopped down. God, his eyes were just as daunting as the rest of him: onyx in color and cat-like in shape, they were bottomless as he blinked at you lazily. And he slowly raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You got lost.” Yoongi repeated slowly. So sarcastically that you didn’t even hear a question mark at the end of it. “Aren’t you about to graduate? How are you still getting lost on campus?”

Your mouth opened and closed, embarrassed heat blossoming across your cheeks. You were blushing hard and you knew it, but that sure as hell didn’t mean that you had to acknowledge it. So you just sniffed and dug through your backpack for an excuse to break eye contact. “I haven’t been in here before.”

It was true. In a way. The hall of studios that you were in now were for the senior music production students. There was a completely different area for each year, but each student had their own assigned as theirs for the semester. So you weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t been to his exact studio before.

Which he seemed to catch on to, if the way Yoongi’s second eyebrow raised to join the first told you anything. But he let it go and turned back to shut his laptop, which you could now see was opened to a music production app. You weren’t very schooled on how to operate it, but even you could tell that he seemed to be very far into whatever it was he was making.

Though you didn’t get a good enough look at it before he closed it.

“Even though we have a month to do this, we should figure out what kind of song we’re making now instead of later.” Yoongi stated in that gruff voice of his and clicked a few things on his laptop. “Since you’re the one singing, you’ll be setting the tone--”

“Wait.” You interrupted.

Yoongi stopped whatever it was he was about to say to give you a blank look, the corners of his lips turned down. “What?”

Clearing your throat, you continued on despite the way his expression tried to cow you into shutting up. “How’re we splitting this up?”

A valid question. Not every person who created music worked in the same way. Some liked to do things a completely different way than somebody else might’ve. Last time you’d worked with one of the students from the music production class, the two of you had butted heads the whole way. He hadn’t wanted to hear your input at all, and you weren’t about to be shoved off to the side like some kind of un-opinionated mouthpiece again.

Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a hum. “I normally make the track and leave the lyrics up to the singer unless they need help.”

He looked at you from out of the corner of his eye as he clicked a few buttons on the keyboard in front of him to bring the giant monitor above the control panel to life. “Can you write?”

“Yes.” The word left your mouth before you could even think about it.

“Good. You’ll take care of that then.” Yoongi slid a blank yellow notepad into the empty space on the control panel between you. “Though we’ll need to do the melody before that.”

The next time the two of you met was almost a week later. It’d been sometime late in the afternoon when you both finally had time in your schedules. Because for some stupid reason, even though both of your classes were combined to work on the project, it had to be done outside of class.

Ugh.

As if you didn’t already have enough things to stress over. Like say, securing a job for after graduation.

During the first meeting between the two of you, you’d already decided on what kind of song you wanted to make. Something upbeat, but not over the top, though not boring either. You weren’t a huge fan of sounding like every other music artist out there and apparently Yoongi had felt the same. So it’d been easy to come up with.

He’d texted over a few ideas for the concept and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how serious he took it. At how complex and layered the ideas he’d come up with were. They were a lot better than anything you could have ever dreamed up and you were beyond astonished.

Especially when he met you outside of his studio door, blond hair was secured back off his forehead by a white headband,  and greeted you with, “I finished the track.”

“Already?” Shock was clear in your voice and you watched open mouthed as he unlocked the door and held it open for you to follow him inside. The lights flickered on overhead, but you were too busy staring at his back to notice. “That was quick, holy shit.”

Yoongi shrugged off your awe and wiggled the mouse to bring his computer to life. “It was no big deal. And now we can work on the melody.”

Still gaping at the blond, you shuffled forward to drop your bag next to your chair. “Okay. Um. Where should we start?”

Pulling out his chair, he sat down and lazily dragged the mouse over to open up his production software. “Listen to it first and let me know if you want to make any changes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You plopped down into your own chair and watched as he pressed play.

The music that poured from the expensive speakers started off slowly until it tapered off into what you assumed would be the first chorus. And you found yourself unconsciously tapping your fingers against your thigh when the bridge finally hit, you had to bite your lip to contain an excited smile. The moment it ended, you twisted in your chair to see that he was already looking at you. Though he kept his face blank, you could literally see question lingering behind those cat-like eyes of his.

“Mm.” You hummed, nodding your head and trying your damnedest to keep the grin from your face.

When you failed to say anything more, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Mm?”

“Mm.” You finally let the smile touch your lips. “I really liked it. It’s good.”

“Yeah?” He reached out to stop the track from replaying on a loop. “Any changes?”

“Nah. I like it just the way it is.”

“Alright.” Was what he responded with, but you could tell that he was pleased beneath that hard exterior of his. “The melody then.”

“The melody.” You agreed.

Min Yoongi was extremely anal when it came to anything he attached his name to.

That was probably why he had so many music companies vying for his attention. Not only did he produce nothing short of perfect tracks, but he’d even made some cash on the side selling some of them. Or so you’d heard through the grapevine.

Which was exactly why you were left staring at the blank notebook settled across your crossed legs. The pen in your hand had yet to put ink to the blank pages hours after you’d gotten home. All because some guy intimidated the hell out of you.

Most of the songs you wrote were fine. But that was the problem.  

Min Yoongi didn’t do fine. And you had no doubt in your mind that he’d tear your work to absolute shreds should you present him something lackluster. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to jump the gun and tell him you’d be fine writing by yourself.

It was way too late now.

“How long are you going to stare like that?”

Snapping out of your self-degrading thoughts, you turned to look over your shoulder. Jennie, your ever present roommate, was standing behind the couch shoving spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth. By the lack of makeup on her face and the messy bun her long black hair was thrown up into, she was more than likely about to go to bed.

“Stare like what?” You asked with a poorly concealed pout, pulling out your earbuds that’d been playing the track on a constant loop.

“Like you’re constipated or something.” Jennie waved her spoon at you before dipping it back into the bowl to scoop up more soggy cereal. “Project really giving you that much trouble?”

She didn’t necessarily know exactly what was going on with you, not exactly. Sure, she knew that you were partners with Yoongi and had been spending a lot of time with the man for the project. But she didn’t know just how much pressure you were under. Self-inflicted or not.

“These lyrics are kicking my ass.” Groaning, you leaned to the side until you were sprawled out on the couch.

“Why?” Jennie rested her arms against the back of it, bowl of milk and cereal hovering over you dangerously. “They don’t normally.”

She had a point. It wasn’t usually so difficult to write a damn song, but you also didn’t usually have a perfectionist genius as a partner. Instead of saying that though, you just threw your arms over your face. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this, ‘ya know? I should drop out while I still can.”

“O-kay.” You could hear her exasperated eye roll. “Don’t stress so much about it. You know, whenever you’re done being overdramatic.”

Jennie successfully dodged the couch pillow you chucked after fleeing footsteps. A buzz from your phone had you reaching for it blindly and the text on the screen had you burying your face into the cushions.

Min Yoongi: you free tomorrow?

Y/n: yeah. Same time?

His response came in not even five seconds later.

Min Yoongi: works for me

“So, see you tomorrow?” The question left your lips as you packed your stuff back into your bag. You still hadn’t been able to come up with any lyrics. At least none good enough to show your partner. So while you’d both been in the studio, you’d busied yourself trying to write and Yoongi had been doing whatever it was that he did.

He’d just powered down the computer he’d been working on and shook his head without looking at you. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”

“Oh, really?” That came as a surprise. The fact that there was something or someone out there that could force the Min Yoongi to ditch working on a song. “What kind of plans?”

Ever since you’d showed up with food two weeks ago, he’d been a little more amicable towards you. Not as closed off. Which, of course, only led to you bringing some with you every day. Maybe food being the way to a man’s heart really applied to every man. Nonetheless, with the way the two of you would banter back and forth without heat made you hope that it wasn’t just you who considered him a friend.

Yoongi paused, only for a moment, but he paused all the same in throwing his bag over his shoulder before he answered. “I...have a show.”

“A show?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood up. That was the last thing you would have expected to leave his mouth. “What kind of show?”

“It’s not the type of show you’d want to watch.” He headed for the door and you scrambled to follow after him.

Leaning against the wall while he locked up the door, you folded your arms across your chest. “Why? You a stripper or something?”

Yoongi didn’t even spare you a look, just pocketed his keys and started down the hallway, apparently assuming that you’d follow. “You saying I wouldn’t be a good stripper?”

He’d assumed correctly. Your legs raced to catch up. “I never said that. You insinuated that all by yourself.”

An amused scoff passed his lips, but that was all you got in response. You weren’t about to letter the matter drop though. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A stripper.”

A pause. And then Yoongi met your sparkling gaze and shook his head with a huffing laugh. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

“Well, if your show isn’t anything rated NC-18, then can I go?”

“Why would you want to go?”

His question had you sending him a hesitant look. “Because we’re friends, aren't we?”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I say no, will you stop asking?”

You pretended to think for a minute before clicking your tongue. “Nope.”

He looked over at you, feline eyes squinting in contemplation. As much as Min Yoongi liked to act like he came across as aloof, he was a lot easier to read than he probably thought. And he must have found whatever it was he was looking for, because his thoughtful pout turned into a careless shrug.

“Whatever. Fine.”

“Sweet.” You grinned up at him and finally let him go on his merry way.

It was difficult to find a parking spot. You’d had to loop around the block at least ten times before you were finally able to squeeze your car into a space between two giant SUVs. The spot wasn’t exactly close to where you were supposed to meet Yoongi, but it was the best you could do.

When he’d texted you the address, you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little apprehensive at first. It was located on the outskirts of downtown where you’d never been before. Because the further out you went from the center of the city, the more dangerous it got.

Y/n: I’m here.

You sent the text off to Yoongi and cut the car engine. Throwing a glance at the clock on the dash, you silently thanked yourself for leaving a bit early in order to get there in time. The sun had long gone down and the moon had taken its place, so the streets were dark. Only lit up by the street lamps and lights that bled from apartment windows. Most of the businesses were closed for the night, the corner store half a block down was the only one still open.

You had about six blocks to walk and was just about to get out of your car when your phone started vibrating in your hand.

“Hello?” You answered the call, voice pitched with barely concealed amusement.

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice was even deeper over the phone, if that were possible. And you could hear the sounds of cars driving past him in the background.

You rolled your eyes even though he wasn’t there to see it. “I told you that I’m here.”

He sighed into the phone and you just knew that he was making a face. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Like, parked a few blocks away.” You popped your car door open, turning back to the passenger seat to grab your bag. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Stay where you are.” Yoongi demanded and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll come get you.”

“You don’t have to.” You huffed a laugh. “I have two legs, ‘ya know.”

“Really? Never noticed.” In the background, voices blended in with the sound of cars. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. So just tell me where you are so I can make sure you don’t get stabbed or something.”

“‘Stabbed or something?’” It was difficult to hide your amusement now, but you obeyed and got back inside your car anyway, letting him know what street you were on. “My knight in shining armor, you say the most romantic things.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. You knew he did. “Nevermind. Maybe I’ll just let you get stabbed while I make my escape.”

The bark of laughter that left you was impossible to contain. “I could run faster than you and you know it. So try me.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Yeah okay. You wouldn't--”

A click told you that yes, he would. And you were left staring down at your phone with open mouthed disbelief. How dare he? You were just about to call him back and tell him as much, when a knock on your car window had you jumping with a small shriek.

Yoongi stood right outside your door with his fist still raised and a gummy grin on his pouty lips. You just stuck your tongue out at him childishly and grabbed your bag before slipping out of your car. “You’re a bully.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his dark colored jeans and shrugged. “Would a bully walk all the way over here to make sure you don’t get robbed?”

Now it was your turn to shrug, taking him in and pretending not to see his onyx eyes slide down your body. Yoongi was dressed casually like usual. With a plain white t-shirt and a black zip up jacket thrown over it, he pulled it off like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover. How in the hell he always managed to do that was a mystery to you. And you knew you didn’t compare to him, even with your high-waisted white joggers and grey crop top.

Whatever. It wasn’t like it was bright enough outside to matter anyway.

“That sounds exactly like something a robber would say.” You flicked your hair over your shoulder and took off down the cracked sidewalk, making sure to lock your car behind you.

“Not like there’d be much to steal.” Yoongi’s voice caught up to you right as he did, walking side by side with the occasional brushing of his shoulder against yours.

You responded to his playful jab by lightly smacking his arm. “Careful there. Keep saying such poetic words and you’ll make me fall in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He went quiet, but you could feel him looking at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze was a weight that burned through you, a light shining through the night.

The rest of the walk passed by pretty quickly, especially when nobody jumped out of an alleyway to rob you at knifepoint. Whether or not that was because of the man walking at your side, or something else, it didn’t matter. Not when the building you were headed to for the night popped up in the distance.

It looked like any other building on the street, with rough brick siding and a glowing red and green sign advertising the bar. Situated on the corner, you were just about to head inside when Yoongi’s hand caught your arm.

“It’s this way.” He answered your confused look by tugging you gently down the alleyway right next to the bar.

“But I thought it was inside.” You glanced back behind you before looking back towards the dead ended alley.

Yoongi dropped his hand from your arm. “It is.”

“Ah, makes sense.” You nodded sarcastically, successfully drawing a smile from your escort.

“Be patient and you’ll see.”

True to his word, you saw what he meant when he came to a stop outside of a side door. There weren’t any signs or anything indicated what it led to, but you could take a guess as Yoongi pulled it open and gestured for you to enter first.

It was dark inside and you had to squint in the dim lighting in order to see anything. You were in what appeared to be some kind of entrance that reminded you of one of the speakeasies downtown. Though there wasn’t a soul in sight, just a staircase at the end of the short hall. Unless you counted the loud base of music pounding through your feet and straight to your bones. The door slammed shut behind Yoongi and then he was taking the lead towards the stairs.

The further down you went, the louder the music got until it was all you could hear. And once you got to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the room, you found out why. Bodies were packed wall-to-wall, some moving to the music pouring from the speakers and others nodding their heads with drinks in their hands. Red and purple lights made the room seem bigger than it actually was, made it easier to lose yourself in the crowd.

Yoongi had taken you to an underground club. Which just made you all the more curious about just what kind of show he was going to be performing in.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi’s voice, even though spoken directly in your ear, was barely distinguishable from the lyrics bleeding through the room.

You simply nodded, taking care not to bash your head into his nose from where he was leaning over for you to hear him. He said something you couldn’t hear, words lost to the crowd. But you assumed he wanted you to follow him when he started to merge himself into the throngs of people. Just when you thought that you’d have to try and fight your way through to keep up with him, he was reaching back to grab your hand.

Wrapped his slender fingers around yours without sparing you a second look.

He was just trying to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Yeah, that was it. There was no other reason for it, so therefore your heart had no reason to speed up. To thump in time with the bass as you followed behind him. Especially when the warmth from his palm slid into yours.

“What do you want?” Yoongi turned back to speak in your ear. Shit, you hadn’t even realized that you’d already reached the packed bar. So you forced yourself to focus on the two bartenders running around behind it, rather than the hand still in yours.

“Tequila.” You answered. Yoongi raised both eyebrows in surprise before turning back to the bar. With his eyes no longer on you, it made breathing a whole lot easier. And you turned your attention away from Yoongi’s slim back and towards the stage.

It was all the way on the other side of the room and you watched as a guy walked across it with a mic in his hands. The music was lowered and his voice cracked to life through the speakers. Whatever announcement he was making went in one ear and out the other because Yoongi turned back around with a plastic cup extended out towards you. His other hand was empty and you sent him a questioning look.

Whether or not he knew what you were silently asking, or was just making a general announcement, he answered your question. “I have to perform soon.”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth and accepted the drink with a smile in thanks. “You still haven’t told me what you’re gonna be doing.”

You had to stand on your tippy-toes in order for Yoongi to hear you, which didn’t go unnoticed by him if the amused gleam in his eyes was anything to go by. “You’ll see.”

Which was exactly how you found yourself with another drink in your hands and your back leaning against the bar. If you were being completely honest, you hadn’t been sure what to expect. A lot of different things had popped into your mind about what kind of shows your partner liked to put on. Some ranging from completely ridiculous, to weird, to funny.

But none of them had been this.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things. A talented producer, a deep thinker, a musical genius.

Never would you have thought to add “rapper” to the list. You should have known, was a little surprised at yourself for not being able to guess. Like all other things Min Yoongi, he was incredibly good at it. Took to the stage like a natural. And you were completely awestruck, unable to look away the whole time he was up on that stage, letting words flow from his lips like some kind of poetic river.

Calm, yet bubbling over with the effortless way he captured the attention of everyone in the room. The track he rapped over was fast paced, but he had no trouble keeping up and keeping the crowd engaged at the same time. He performed three songs, but it wasn’t enough. And judging by the one last look at the crowd Yoongi took before exiting the stage, it wasn’t enough for him either.

Whoever took his place didn’t have one ounce of your attention. And maybe that was rude or whatever, but you didn’t care. Not when you caught sight of his blond head making its way towards you. He got stopped multiple times along the way by people congratulating him with pats on the back or short conversations.

By the time Yoongi finally made his way back to your side, your second drink was extended out to him with a grin on your face. You’d barely even taken a sip from it, so it was completely full and beginning to sweat water. “That was amazing!”

The performer on stage was loud, but you could tell that Yoongi heard you by the smile he tried and failed to hide behind the rim of the plastic cup. But you weren’t going to leave it at that, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and squeezing to make sure you got your point across. “Like, incredibly amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could rap like that?”

“You never asked.” He shrugged. Yoongi wasn’t the type of person to feed off of compliments, you knew that. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate them. The way his onyx colored eyes glittered told as much. And when he tilted the plastic cup back and drained the contents, the confidence that flowed beneath his skin gave it away too. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, young padawan.”

A snort of amusement from the passenger side of your car had you throwing Yoongi a wink. He completely ignored you in favor of thumbing through the playlist on your phone. It was hooked up to the radio via bluetooth and ever since you’d left the underground club, he’d been focused on silently judging you for your music choices.

When Yoongi had suggested bailing on the club, he hadn’t really had a particular place in mind. Which you’d soon figured out the moment you stepped out the door. He’d taken the subway to the place, so you’d all but shoved him into your car before he had a chance to say no.

“You really have Ariana Grande on here?” He wiggled your phone in your peripheral and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t too busy merging off the freeway.

“What’s wrong with Ari?” You huffed in mock offense.

“Nothing.”

“I can literally hear the judgement in your voice.”

“Maybe you should focus on the road then.”

Now you really did roll your eyes. Though the bark of laughter that accompanied it showed your lack of annoyance. “I would if we weren’t already here.”

Yoongi looked up from your phone just as you were putting the car into park. His eyes squinted into the dark with a furrow of his eyebrows. “We’re at the beach?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ and turned off your car, quickly hopping out before you could fall victim to his flatline stare.

The scent of sea salt lingered in the semi-humid air and you paused for a moment to inhale deeply. There was nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, and when the passenger side door opened and closed, you rounded the car to wave Yoongi along. He caught up to you right as your shoe hit the wooden planks of the boardwalk. You’d had to park way back in one of the lots far away from the beach for whatever godforsaken reason.

Shopfronts, closed and shuttered by metal grates due to the late hour, greeted you as you walked down the path. And Yoongi’s presence at your side was calming. Hell, everything about that man was. Never would you have thought that about him, not at first. Not with the rocky way your friendship had started.

Neither would you have expected the warmth that bloomed in your chest everytime he looked at you with those pretty eyes of his. Or flashed you one of his patented gummy smiles. He’d somehow wormed a place into your heart with that sarcastic wit of his. No, the last thing you would have expected from your final project was this.

But you didn’t mind. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, only looked at you like a friend, you didn’t mind. Because you’d take anything he offered you. And if a friendship was all he was willing to give, that was okay too.

“Where are we going exactly?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you glanced up at him to see that he was already looking at you.

“Do we need to have a destination?” You shot back with a wiggle of your eyebrows. “It’s all in the journey.”

He rolled his eyes skyward as if silently asking why me, but let a smile touch his lips anyway “And this journey leads to the beach I’m guessing?”

“Maybe.” You dragged out the syllables, nudging your shoulder with his playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the beach.”

“Who doesn’t like the beach?”

“That’s exactly what I’m--whoa.” Your feet came to a halt right as you stepped out from between two shops, where the boardwalk met the beach. Yoongi stopped at your side, but you didn’t even notice.

Because you were too busy staring at the apparent concert that was being held further down the beach. Apparently the loud music you’d heard from the parking lot wasn’t from one of the many speakers placed throughout the boardwalk. Well, that would explain the lack of parking at least.

Even from where the two of you stood, you could tell that the crowd was huge. They took up a big chunk of the beach, bodies nothing but a dark mass in the distance as they danced to the music from the stage. You couldn’t tell who it was, not that far away. But the multicolored lights flashed into the sky like a beacon.

“I wonder who’s performing.” Yoongi’s mumble had you bending down to unlace your shoes. “What’re you doing?”

“You wanna know who’s performing?” Slipping off your socks, you threw both those and your shoes into your bag. Once it was closed up, you sent Yoongi a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s go find out.”

He didn’t move, just gave you a look before realization dawned on his face. “You want to sneak in.”

It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded your head anyway. “Come on, when will you ever have the chance to do something like this again. Don’t tell me you’re scared we’ll get caught.”

Yoongi scoffed, but leaned down to slip off his shoes in an uncharacteristic move. You knew he wasn’t much of a partier and didn’t do things like this very often. So the fact that he was caving to your suggestion had your mind whirling. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“At what?”

A smirk was thrown your way as he stood back up, but that was all the answer you got. After all the time you’ve spent with the man, you’d like to consider yourself a Yoongi Whisperer. So that smirk probably meant something along the lines of: I’m surprised that you’re a super awesome badass.

Or something.

“Just come on.” You grabbed his hand without thinking, dragging him behind you onto the sand. When he failed to complain, you took that as a greenlight to continue doing so.

When his fingers linked themselves with yours, it took all you had to not falter in your steps. To pretend like you weren’t affected by such a thoughtless action. To calm the rapid beating of your heart.

The closer you got to the concert, the louder the music got, until you could hear the roar of the crowd over the artist on stage. It was EDM, or at least sounded like it. Of course, as soon as you got closer, you spotted your first hurdle. One you’d been unable to see from far away.

A chain link fence stood between the two of you and a night of fun. It had your shoulders deflating before you even realized it, and you turned to the blond at your side. “Should we climb it or something?”

Biting your lip, you eyed just how far up it was. Even if the two of you managed to climb it, there was no way that you wouldn’t be spotted by security. And being arrested was the last thing on your to-do list.

“Or.” Yoongi crossed over to the fence and wrapped his hands along the bottom of it. With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking, he lifted it up and back, bending it backwards with just enough space left at the bottom for someone to squeeze underneath.

There was no way that he would have been strong enough on his own to lift it, and a closer look had you snorting a laugh. Apparently the two of you weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea to sneak in.

“You going?” He questioned and you started forward before a smartass remark could leave his mouth.

The sand was cool beneath your body as you shimmied underneath the space between the fence and the ground. And once you were on the other side, you crouched down and grabbed the fence from Yoongi to pull back towards your side. “I’m surprised that you’re going along with this, to be honest. Don’t you hate music like this?”

He grunted as he crawled across the sand towards you. “You wanted to.”

“So?” Your voice was soft, but he was still able to hear you over the pounding bass. The fence dropped from your fingers once he was on your side, but you didn’t move, just stared up at him as he stood.

“So.” Yoongi started, extending a hand down to help you up. “Are you coming?”

His answer had warmth blossoming in your chest and a tiny smile blooming on your face. Had you reaching out to let him help you up off the sand. He didn’t let go while you brushed yourself off, but he did guide the both of you towards the writhing crowd, if only to avoid being spotted by security.

It was a good thing that Yoongi was a slim man, because it made slipping through the numerous dancing bodies closer towards the stage a whole lot easier. You’d made it to about the middle when he stopped and tugged you closer to join him in a pocket of space between two different groups of people. The scent of marijuana mixed in with sea salt from the ocean in a cocktail that usually accompanied things like that.

“Dance with me.” You spoke into Yoongi’s ear, ignoring the excited flush you felt at being so close to him.

“I can’t dance.” He stated, despite the hand he slipped around your waist and pressed into your back. Whether or not to move you out of the range of the group of girls dancing wildly behind you, or something else, you didn’t know.

Chest to chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. “Mm. I don’t believe you. Everyone can dance.”

“That’s a lie.” Yoongi’s lips were titled up at the corners and his gaze on you was soft. Gentle.

The flashing lights on the stage flickered through his dark colored eyes. Turned those once pools of onyx into a glittering galaxy that you couldn’t look away from. That hypnotized you like the beat that pulsed beneath your skin and drowned your ears.

“That’s not true.” Your mumble was lost to the crowd. Buried somewhere underneath the music as he moved closer. And the butterflies nestled deep in your gut fluttered their wings when his other hand cupped the side of your face.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours and his breath fanned across your cheek. That was the only warning you got before his mouth was on yours. His lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he liked to wear. And the kiss, like everything Min Yoongi, was slow. Not in a lazy way. More like he was taking the time to savor it. To remember what your hair felt like as he slid his hand into it.

Or the way you involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip. How your fingers found their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck when you pulled him closer. How he’d had to hold back a laugh at the way you were standing on your tippy-toes in order to reach him.

You probably wouldn’t have pulled away and neither would he, if it weren’t for the rain that suddenly tore from the sky like an opened dam. Drenching anything and everything around it faster than you could blink. It had you forcing yourself away from the magnetizing pull of Yoongi’s lips to give him an eye crinkling smile.

“What was that for?” You didn’t care if you were getting wet.

Neither did he apparently, because he ran a thumb over the lips he’d just kissed, sending shivers down your spine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. Break it down for me.”

He met your imploring gaze almost bashfully, eyes squinting from the rain. “I’ve liked you since practically the beginning of the semester.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you, Min Yoongi.”

He opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Both of you glanced up at the dark sky at the same time.

Everyone around you was either ignoring the torrential downpour or shrieking and attempting to use anything to shield themselves from getting wet. Once the sound of thunder echoed a streak of lightning, you knew what was about to happen next and turned to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He, like everyone else, was drenched and his blond hair stuck to the damp skin of his face. It had you grinning at the pout on his mouth and you leaned forward to press your lips to his one final time before pulling away.

“We should get out of here before everyone else decides to do the same.” You had to shout to be heard over both the rain and the noise from everything else. It was only a matter of time before the concert got either canceled or postponed due to the thunderstorm and you didn’t want to be caught in the middle.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Yoongi wiped water from his eyes and grabbed your hand to start navigating the hell out of there.

And as your eyes trained themselves to his slim back and your fingers interlocked themselves with his, you smiled. The lyrics that you’d been struggling so hard to write came to life beneath the fire in your chest. You had no one but the man in front of you to thank for the inspiration.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a poet, a light in a sea of darkness.

Min Yoongi was nothing if not beautiful.

[moonstonediaz]

for the ask game: give me recs please! they can be books, movies, songs, poets, artists idc i’m good w anything 😊

ooooohhhhohohohoh anon, do you know what you’ve done to me? recs for anything? buckle in, my friend, this might get weird

BOOKS:

The 7-1/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle: i read this one last month and it was amazing! such a good murder mystery. it kept me hooked through every single page. if you love a good mystery, try this one out.

The Song of Achilles: this is already a widely known book, but hand to god i hadn’t heard of it before this past year. it…ruined me. in all the best ways. i shove it in everyone’s face now. if you haven’t read it—DO IT.

The Georgina Kincaid series by Richelle Mead: one of my all-time favorite series. it’s about a succubus living in seattle who works at a book store. it’s got demons and imps and vampires and angels and nephilim and an adorably shy author. it’s so fucking good, i’ve read the series at least 5 times now. incredibly well-written.

anything by Richelle Mead, actually. i’m a huge fan of all of her work. i was introduced into her work with the Vampire Academy series and i’ve read everything she’s written since then. they just finished casting the VA tv series for Peacock, so that’s something to look out for!

MOVIES/TV:

i’m super into horror, so if that’s not your thing just skip on down. also worth noting that i rewatch a lot of stuff. like more than i think other people do.

The Conjuring movies: they’re all incredible. that’s all i can say.

The Haunting of Hill House/The Haunting of Bly Manor: they’re not the same story but they’re equally great. i’m getting ready to rewatch Hill House bc it’s been a while and it’s fuzzy in my memory. Bly Manor makes me sob. the queer story they tell hits me so hard and the ending leaves me a mess, but it’s so worth it.

Midnight Mass: a new addition! i almost didn’t watch this due to some comments i saw on twitter, but i changed my mind and. omfg. i wouldn’t have forgiven myself if i never watched it. (Mike Flanagan is?? a genius?? he also did the two Hauntings mentioned above. his work is incredible.)

NBC’s Hannibal: listen. i will never ever shut up about it. i went in watching it before i knew Hannigram-the-ship was even a thing. but 👀. pushing the ship aside, the show is amazing. the cinematography is beautiful, the sets are elaborate and elegant. i’m obsessed. as a fan of Anthony Hopkins’ portrayal, i didn’t know how i’d feel about Mads Mikkelsen as Hannibal but he adds something special to the character that’s so intriguing to me. (i wouldn’t explicitly list this as horror, but it IS gory. be forewarned.)

MUSIC:

eehhh i’m hesitant to recommend anything in this category for two reasons. 1. i do not branch out very often, if at all. 2. i don’t meet a lot of people who enjoy the post-hardcore type rock that i’m in love with. but! i’ll say what my current favorites are:

Eidola: their lead vocalist, Andrew Wells, is….okay. you ever feel really down and you can feel yourself going to a dark place, and then you go outside and the weather is perfect—like, 65 degrees and sunny and windy—and you just stop and feel the sunlight on your skin and it’s almost as if it’s warming you up from the inside? and suddenly that dark place isn’t so dark, and you feel something like hope? THAT is Andrew’s voice to me. (also he’s a beefcake and i might be in love with him) and their lyrics are so poetic and beautiful and they strike me right in my soul. so, if i’m recommending any of their songs to anyone, i would have to go with Perennial Philosophy or Elephant Bones. or Tetelestai. or Dendrochronology. and Sri Vishnu Yantra makes me scream sometimes. they’re literally my favorite band, i’d recommend it all. and ok so, they do mostly clean vocals but they also have screams in most of their stuff. and that’s why i never recommend music, bc most people balk at it lol. but it’s not heavy metal. it is not. heavy. metal. people sometimes make that mistake.

Circa Survive: another huge favorite of mine. the same type of genre, no screamo though! i’ve been listening to them for, god, over a decade now. similarly to Eidola, their lyrics are very beautiful, and paired with Anthony Green’s vocals and their instrumentals i just?? i can’t describe it. i have a lot of thoughts and feelings about their albums, mainly bc their stuff goes back to when i was in high school. so listening to their discography is like being in a time machine for me. it’s hard to recommend just a handful, but some songs i’d recommend are I’ll Find a Way, Through The Desert Alone, Flesh and Bone, and their entire new EP, A Dream About Love. specifically Drift, but the EP is only 6 songs and they’re all great.

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

Part 2

Summary: Soulmates have different ways of being connected to one another. Sometimes it’s through being able to write on their arms and having it show up on their soulmates. For others it was having their first words spoken to one another permanently tattooed into their skin. You had a unique connection with yours, one that you really hadn’t ever heard of happening before. Whatever song was stuck in your soulmate’s head was also stuck in yours and the same was for them. When Yoongi realizes one of his songs is playing on repeat in your head, he immediately takes to writing songs to communicate with you in hopes it will finally bring you two together.

Genre: Fluff. Just pure tooth rotting, sweet fluff.

Part 1   Part 3

“I’m a new generation Anpanman. I’m a new super hero Anpanman.” You let out a shout and throw the covers off and dart out of bed, having been startled by the loud music. You glance around the room trying to get your bearings when you see your friend dancing on the bed, waving around the army bomb and singing loudly. 

“What the fuck are you doing?! It’s almost 5 o clock in the morning!” 

“Exactly!”

“What are you-... OH.... It’s almost time for the comeback trailer!” You dart back into bed and pull out your friend’s lap top, waiting impatiently and constantly refreshing their youtube page for when the video will drop. 

“Y/n you don’t have to keep refreshing the page you know? They post it exactly on time.”

“But what if they’re early?!”

“Just trust me. You got 5 more minutes so just take a few deep breaths, calm.”

“I don’t know how you do this every comeback my nerves are shot and I haven’t even heard any of their songs yet.” 

“Yes you just did! Anpanman is one of theirs.” 

“Oh? Really? I liked that one! Can you play the whole thing?”

“Sure.” Your friend smiles and puts the song back on and you find yourself humming along even though you know you’ve never heard the whole thing. It just seems to come naturally. Your friend eyes you suspiciously. “Have you been a closet army this whole time?”

“Hmm, no. I just feel like I know this song I don’t know why.. It’s weird.” 

“You know the more you talk the more I am suspicious that someone in BTS might actually be your soulmate.” 

“Ah shush with that nonsense.” Suddenly your friend’s phone goes off with a notification. 

“THE VIDEO IS POSTED GO GO!” You refresh the page and sit to watch in complete awe. 

You watch as the camera pans down the hallway, the shadows lining it as it get closer to the man standing at the end of the hallway. When it finally reaches him your first thought is Holy shit he’s gorgeous. Which you must have voiced out loud if your friend giggling next to you was any indication. 

But then he opens his mouth and he starts to rap. And a sense of calm immediately washes over you. His voice makes you feel a sense of peace. It feels like you went away on a long trip and are finally coming home. You listen to his deep voice, and read the lyrics popping up on the bottom of the screen. 

I’m afraid, flying high is terrifying. No one told me how lonely it is up here. 

Tears well up in your eyes as you read this man’s most personal and deepest thoughts and fears. He’s sharing them with the world and you can’t help but admire him and think he’s brave for sharing this vulnerable side with all of his fans. When the colors and the beat begin to change to something harsher, something darker, It’s almost as if you’re in a trance. You don’t realize your friend had been gushing over the video and asking you questions because you’re too focused on everything happening. There is a weird feeling in your chest, like butterflies fluttering around in there. When the beat cuts out you’re left there for a few moments in silence. Without realizing it your hand is hovering over the replay button, and you push it, watching it again. Your friend doesn’t say anything, realizing what is happening and wants to give you this opportunity to figure it out yourself. You probably wouldn’t believe them anyway. 

After the second play through you sit there staring at the screen, mind buzzing with all these new thoughts in your head. 

“Y/n?” Your friend places a gentle hand on your shoulder and you immediately burst into tears. “Ah! No no why are you crying?”

“I don’t know. I just... goodness the emotions he puts into his lyrics and his performance you can feel everything. His fears, his worries, his sorrows, his hardships. I don’t even know what he’s been through but you can tell it’s a lot. And he said he’s lonely. That just makes me sad. And there’s this damn fluttering in my chest that won’t go away and his voice feels like home I don’t know what’s happening.” 

“Y/n... I think you know what’s going on.”

“Well if it is then this just sucks.” You pout and your friend pulls you into a hug.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because how are we supposed to find each other?! We don’t even live in the same country! And there’s no way for me to contact him and even if I did he’d probably think I was just some crazy delusional fan.” 

“Y/n the universe has a way of bringing soulmates together I wouldn’t worry too much about it. He’ll find a way. Trust me. They don’t call him Genius Min Yoongi for nothing.” You chuckle at that, feeling comforted by your friends words and encouragement. 

“Okay. I trust you. Can we watch it again?” 

“Of course.” 

Yoongi was right in the middle of eating dinner with the members when a familiar melody enters his head. He drops his chop sticks, mouth hanging open in shock as he processes what he is hearing. 

“Hyung? Yoongi?” Jimin places his hand on his shoulder but he continues to stare off and not say anything. The other members glance around with concerned looks on their faces. 

“Suga hyung?” Jungkook calls out. Yoongi shakes his head back and forth to clear his mind and when he looks up he finds 6 sets of eyes boring into his. “Soulmate troubles?” 

“No.. No it’s.. my song.” 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon questions. 

“It’s.. one of our songs. My song. Shadow. My soulmate has one of our songs stuck in their head.” Yoongi continues to stare at the table hard, like if he gazes hard enough an image of you will show up there. “My soulmate knows us. They know our songs, they listen to us. Oh thank God. At least now we have some kind of connection. I was sitting here thinking how in the hell am I ever going to find them but.. at least they know of my existence.” Yoongi sighs in relief before the questions start bombarding him and plaguing his mind. 

Sure they listen to your music but how are you going to find them? 

Them listening to your music doesn’t mean they’re suddenly going to pop into your life. 

What are you going to do? Walk down the street and hope you run into them humming one of your songs? You’re one of the most famous bands in the world right now everyone probably hums your songs. 

It’s impossible. Just give up you’re never going to find your soulmate. 

“Hey, Yoongi. Are you getting lost in your head again?” Hoseok reach over and taps his forehead. Yoongi bats his hand away and lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“This is fucking pointless.”

“What is?”

“So they listen to our music. A lot of people do. How am I supposed to find my soulmate with just this knowledge alone? Fate really likes to screw with me you know? It’s just dangling my soulmate right in front of me but always just out of reach and I hate this. I hate it so much.” Yoongi’s voice cracks but he wills the tears away. He’s cried enough over the fact that he’s never going to meet you and he needs to come to grips with that. Namjoon scolds him.

“Ah, Yoongi. I’m going to have to revoke your genius title.” Yoongi’s gaze shoots up to his and he’s not amused in the slightest.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Your soulmate listens to your music! This is great news!” Yoongi looks at Namjoon with a puzzled expression on his face. “Come on, Yoongi use that genius brain of yours. You’re a producer so what do you do?”

“Make music?”

“And how do you share a connection with your soulmate?”

“Though music? We get each other’s songs stuck in one another’s head.”

“So....”

“So...” Suddenly the lightbulb goes off. “I can write songs to help communicate with my soulmate!”

“There ya go.” Namjoon gives him a fond smile as Yoongi’s face lights up like a Christmas tree. 

“I need to go to the studio. Now. Even if it’s just a short 1 minute song I need to do something. Just to show that I know of their existence and that I won’t stop at anything until we can finally meet each other. Thank you guys so much.” Yoongi runs out of the restaurant as Taehyung calls after him. 

“Hyung it was your turn to pay!” 

“Shh! Taehyung this is more important! I’ll pay for you guys.” Jin offers. Yoongi doesn’t hear a word of it. A new found bounce in his step. He stares up at the sky with a smile on his face as he realize somewhere out there, you are looking at the same sky as him, and he feels like for the first time in a while he can finally breathe. 

*****

Tag list: @just-call-me-trash-can​ @thestral-balerion​ @xcastielbabyangelface​ @rukinamukami​ @anoesjkaax​

 For some reason these ones aren’t showing up as me being able to tag you idk why :( Sometimes if accounts are set to private it doesn’t work. @munkey888 @abby-as @lizardthewizzard @w1tchcraftt

[welcometomybrain818]

Regina Spektor

Regina will always be one of my most favorite artists. I associate each of her albums with a different season of life. I also just love her voice. Silky, gentle, interesting. Her music often doesn't follow convention and I like surprises.

Begin to Hope and Far: Where things started. I remember I was newly in high school when we started to listen to these albums. My family had a CD player and stereo. We would play music in the evenings before, during, and after dinner. It was tradition. It was winter I think. That was a hard winter. But I can remember waltzing around the house singing along to Hotel Song. The lyrics are not particularly appropriate for a 14 year-old, but I never really followed rules like that anyways.

A little bag of cocaine A little bag of cocaine So who's the girl wearing my dress?

I loved to sing her songs. I have a fairly good voice and her songs challenged me. They asked me to move beyond the familiar. And they were fun. The lyrics were dynamic.

I loved Dance Anthem of the 80's

There's a meat market down the street, the boys and the girls watch each other eat when they really wanna just watch each other sleep

I think Soviet Kitsch and What We Saw from the Cheap Seats were enjoyed at around the same time. Soviet Kitsch originated from watching 500 Days of Summer and a friend eventually making me a torrented album for my car.

At that point, I must have been between 16 and 17. I could drive, but I was definitely still in high school. And I remember this because I listened to both albums in the summer and I have a vague association with band camp. Also- my friends talked about Regina as though they were experts. This has always insulted me when I am, to this day, often the originator of a good artist. Particularly Regina. Could they not acknowledge my music taste??

When I think of Soviet Kitsch I think of sitting in my car on a hot summer night outside of my ex-best friend's house. I love listening to music in the car and singing along. It feels like this beautifully contained space just for you. Sure, people can see you, but can they really? I think it's easier to tune all of the rest out when you're just doing your thing and immersed in a song. I sometimes feel music with my whole body. Especially when I'm singing. It's like I absorb the emotion.

I really love this album. Ode to Divorce was sad and made me think about my family.

Just break me to small parts, Let go in small doses

Us was happy and made me think about love because I loved 500 days so much at the time.

We're living in a den of thieves, Rummaging for answers in the pages, We're living in a den of thieves, And it's contagious...

But my two favorites from that album have to be Carbon Monoxide and Chemo Limo. They are both just genius. The way Regina uses her voice is so fun to sing along.

Carbon monoxide, Soon I'll go to sleep, If I don't got my socks on right, They slide right off of my feet, As I walk walk walk walk walk walk

You know I plan to retire some day, And I'm gonna go out in style, Go out in style, This shit it's making me tired

For Cheap Seats I loved Patron Saint and Small Town Moon

She'll break her own heart, and you'll know, she'll break your heart too, so daddy let go of her hand

I must have left a thousand times, but there's a small town in my mind... How can I leave without hurting everyone that made me? Today we're younger than we're ever gonna be

These lyrics really hit when I was applying for college and considering leaving my hometown. I have also always resonated with lyrics that remind me I'm only as young as today.

Remember Us to Life

This album came out my junior year of college. I remember being in my cell-like dorm room with white painted brick. This album reminds me of fall and a time where I didn't feel my best. I was so stressed that I was having stomach spasms and my skin wasn't great. But I was only going to be on campus for a semester because then I was off to study abroad again. So I was uncomfortable, but of course music always gave me comfort. Regardless of my condition, music will always give me what I need.

I loved Tornadoland because it made me feel seen as somebody who felt quite lost in her body and uncertain about the future

The mind runs fast, your thoughts are louder than your words... it starts to hurt but you wanna be heard.. everybody's time has come it's everybody's moment except yours.. before the light goes out why don't you close your eyes?

I didn't particularly enjoy much about Trapper and the Furrier except for the chorus. I got my mother this album for Christmas and she hated this song. I think it was too dark for her.

What a strange strange world we live in, where the good are damned and the wicked forgiven. What a strange, strange, world we live in, those who don't have lose, those who've got, get given, more, more, more, more!

Regina's Singles deserve an entire post of their own.

[wings-of-a-storm]

Scenes that stood out as a wtFock newbie

The use of music in the scene where Robbe is trying to get very intimate with Noor just blew me away. It shocked me, it made me sit up, and it made my jaw drop with the utter geniusness of it. I’m talking about using a David Bowie song in a love scene between Robbe and Noor.

Wow wtFock, you really went there.

6. LIFE ON MARS

Backing up one step, what happens in this scene is so hard to watch in general. Robbe hoping to make love to Noor was his choice but it is so hard to watch the attempt unfold while knowing the greater outcome of Robbe’s story and the inevitability of his experimenting. It’s hard to see him having to learn all this the hard way; to see him trying so hard to be someone he thinks he has to be (and after using that slur against Sander…). WtFock seemed to really want to confront us with the physical side of Robbe’s struggle and I think they did it really well.

But then these eikels just had to pull out the David Bowie card.

They actually used a David Bowie song in a love scene between Noor and Robbe. In fact, they did more than just that -- they actually had Robbe choose to play a Bowie song while trying to make love to Noor. Like, it seems like he really was playing it because the song started so muffled when they were outside his bedroom and then became clear as soon as he opened the door to reveal the romantic ambience he had set up for Noor. Bowie seemed to be part of that ambience. (And it still works if it was just in his head.)

Guys, this is a Pandora’s box of layering and I am here for it!

Layer 1: The incongruity

Obviously we (and Robbe) associate all things Bowie with Sander. As such, it is very jarring to hear a Sander reference in a scene that very much shouldn’t involve Sander -- when Robbe is trying to be intimate with his girlfriend for the first time.

It is such a personal moment for Robbe and Noor as a couple; something that is just between the two of them. But what Life On Mars does is force Sander into the room with them (and into our minds). And my goodness, what an effect that has.

I just love that feeling of disorientation it creates. It makes the moment feels so wrong, so incongruous, like the world is upside down. It screams ‘It should be Sander here with Robbe right now.’ And of course that sense of wrongness is probably what Robbe is fighting through/pushing through/struggling with in this moment as well. And we get to feel that struggle from one piece of music. Not just from its melody or the lyrics, but the actual artist is used against us too. How genius is that!

Layer 2: Bowie is comfort and courage

How curious for Robbe to have cut Sander so thoroughly out of his life and yet consciously set up a Bowie song to croon in the background amongst the candles. (And again, it works if it’s just in his head too.)

I think one of the reasons why he did this is because he himself was wooed by Bowie. It’s what he is familiar with; a page out of Sander’s romance playbook. He can now use those moves on Noor (because he has no idea what else to do).

And I think another possible reason for his choosing to play Bowie is for courage. Robbe is obviously really nervous right now and it seems possible that he is trying to get courage from Bowie’s music because Bowie is Sander and Sander is bold and brave and cool and unflappable. I think Robbe looks up to Sander and those qualities he possesses, and Bowie’s music is how he can channel them. (But that thought just makes me want to cry a little bit so I’ll stop right there.)

But I think there is a much bigger reason behind Robbe’s choice to woo Noor with Bowie…

Layer 3: The cycle of substitution

Music is a powerful thing; it connects to memories and emotions. For Robbe, Bowie’s music is so tangled up in Sander -- it would be so hard to separate the two at this point. Listening to Bowie would bring up all the echoes of the happiness and excitement and tingles that he felt with Sander. So why on earth would Robbe listen to Bowie if he was trying to forget about Sander and focus on Noor?

Well, for one thing, listening to Bowie might help Robbe get in the mood; it might help him channel those electric Sander Tingles so that he can then transfer them to Noor. After all, if he could feel those types of things with Sander, surely he can also feel them for his girlfriend with a bit of inspiration and coaxing. Then Robbe will be back to being ‘normal’ again. (Because liking Sander is wrong but liking Noor is right.)

In other words, Robbe may be using his Sander Tingles as a placeholder or a starting point for the ones he is trying to grow for Noor. But that is just a form of substitution wrapped up in ‘good’ intentions.

What the undercurrent of this scene really feels like is a continuation of Call Your Girlfriend/the zombie party, where Robbe used Noor as a substitute to kiss Sander by proxy. Everything in this new scene just screams of Robbe missing Sander and wanting him there instead. The Bowie ambience feels like a gift Robbe has prepared for Sander, not for Noor. But Sander isn’t there…

What everything comes down to -- and what is painfully evident -- is that if Robbe was really determined to cut Sander from his life, he would have cut out Bowie’s music too. He’d have to. Listening to it would be like wearing Sander’s sweater.

If Robbe was serious about getting over Sander, he certainly wouldn’t try and make love to his girlfriend while listening to Sander’s favourite music -- that is just going to make him think of Sander while he kisses Noor. It’s the opposite of trying to erase Sander. It just screams that Robbe doesn’t actually want to get over Sander; that he’s fighting his own decision; that he can’t let go; that he really wants to be doing this with Sander. It’s just such a messy cycle of substitution and so very sad.

And it really makes my head hurt.

But anyway. There is one last thing I loved about the use of music in this scene, and for once it has nothing to do with Bowie:

The music distortion

I just have to acknowledge the fantastic use of music distortion at the end of this scene. You know, the moment Robbe reaches Noor’s lower region and the smooth playback of Life On Mars starts distorting and echoing in Robbe’s ears like he’s slipping underwater.

It was such a clever and effective use of sound effects to replicate the effects of Robbe’s anxiety on his senses and concentration. It works too well though -- it always sets my heart racing and triggers my own anxiety like I am about to freefall without warning. Oh and it BREAKS MY GODDAMN HEART. Willem gets the bloody Oscar because I can’t watch his face in that moment. I just can’t. It’s like he is losing a part of himself to do what he is doing that he will never get back. I can’t describe it, it’s just so awful.

And that brings me to a subpoint that made my list:

6.5: THE FRAMING OF ROBBE AND NOOR IN THE AFTERMATH

The aftermath scene blew me away as well (though I suppose it wasn’t hard to do considering I was already in tiny pieces!)

The framing of Noor holding Robbe from behind to comfort him is so visceral. The contrast of Noor’s warm love with Robbe’s cold fear and resignation is such a mix of beautiful and heartbreaking.

Noor is the embodiment of love as she holds Robbe. Her explanation is so gentle; her tone so soft and soothing. Noor is so empathetic, so patient, so kind, so mature… And that is exactly what amplifies the sense of tragedy. It’s tragic that ordinarily her gentleness and patience might have been enough to help; it might have given a devastated boy an incredibly important lifeline after being unable to perform in the pressure of the moment. But in this situation, it isn’t enough -- it won’t ever be enough. And it’s so hard watching Noor’s exemplary handling of the situation while knowing that.

Robbe seemed to register that particular tragedy too, even though he seems primarily devastated over the finality of what his inability to perform means for him.

His face is just so awful. That resignation and fear as his worst fears are confirmed -- that even after being reassured by his best friend, the advice wasn’t enough to help the situation. What is instinctual for Robbe’s friends isn’t so for him. He tried to do all he could and it still wasn’t enough. There is very little left that he can do.

The close up framing of Robbe’s face in this moment makes it all the more confronting for the viewers because there is no where else to look but at his face. You have no other choice but to feel that fear and devastation; to be trapped in it with Robbe. It’s a set of brutally effective framing.

So well done to wtFock for using so many of my goddamn senses to ruin me in these two scenes -- from the sound of Bowie, to the visuals of distress, to touch (because damn right I felt tightness in my chest and an erratic heart beat!). Thank you but I hate it… :)

[t100ficrecsblog]

an interview with @easilydistractedbyfanfic (she/they)

what are you working on right now? I don’t typically take prompts, but after finding out about the Bellarke Writers For BLM Initiative and how their goal is to raise money for BLM via various fandom prompts that are requested by readers and written & illustrated by various writers and artists, I wanted to get involved. I’ve finished two prompts and am working on my third, which is a Murphy/Raven smutfic set during their years on the Ring. It’s definitely an idea I can work with - it’s over 10k at this point with a lot more to say, so hopefully the anon who requested it will end up pleased! Go check out the tumblr page and the ao3 collection - there’s various t100 pairings/ratings and you can choose the cause if you want to request a fic!

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I struggled with this question! My stories are all like my kids, and even if some of them could use a bit of improvement with pacing or dialogue or whatever faults I see when they age, ultimately I do love them all and I’m glad I wrote them. I do sometimes play favorites but that often depends on what I’m in the mood to read myself. That said, I really do always feel proud of my story called What You Need. It’s a darker version of Raven & Murphy, but one that I don’t find unrealistic under the circumstances of the fic. I surprised myself with where my head went on this one. In a good way, because it was really fascinating to dive into the minds of who these particular versions of the characters were. 

I’m also pleased that I have over 500k on ao3 at this point. I never expected anything like this when I started writing, and it kind of blows my mind that this is my hobby now. It’s so strange to me that there are stories in my head at any given moment now.

why did you first start writing fic? I started writing in June 2018. Never wrote any fanfic before that, ever - though I did read plenty! I wrote three stories super fast, posted them all on ao3 on the same day and haven’t looked back. I think I started writing out of a combination of just really needing more content for my faves, but also I wasn’t in fandom before s5 and was quite desperate after s4 to talk to other people about Raven & Murphy. So I needed to get the stories out but also I had this hope that it would invite conversation when I didn’t know anyone in fandom.

what frustrates you most about fic writing? Just because I want to write doesn’t mean I can. Having prompts on my plate right now, I feel a real responsibility to finish them, but even when I carve time out to write, sometimes the words just don’t feel right. The muse doesn’t always strike when I have the time available. Also, it’s super ridiculously important to me that scenes and dialogue FEEL right based on the characterization I have in my head in any particular story. I can look at a scene I’ve written, especially an emotional one, and sometimes it’s just not resonating with me the way I know it could or should. It’s tough not to just push through and post it as-is, but I know that would never satisfy me, even if it means a much longer turn-around time on a story or chapter update. Often I will find that I get an a-ha moment that cracks open a better understanding of why a scene isn’t working for me, but this can take time and I have to trust in this process.

Not to preach, but it’s also frustrating when something you spend a lot of time and effort on doesn’t get much in the way of comments. I see posting fic on ao3 as a sort of conversation, so when there’s mostly silence even as the hits (and hopefully kudos) tick upwards, it can feel really...disheartening to feel like you’re talking into a void. And I say this as someone who has been fortunate enough to have regular readers who DO give feedback! I think every writer understands that they need to write for themselves first and foremost, but I wish more readers understood that feedback and enthusiasm will absolutely result in MORE CONTENT! I try very hard to follow this guideline myself by supporting and commenting on everything I read as time permits.

what are your top five songs right now? I listen to a huge mix of songs & my childhood influenced me a lot. 

Some floating in my head include - 

Chris Cornell’s live cover of Nothing Compares 2U Indigo Girls - Romeo & Juliet The Decemberists - Once In My Life Tori Amos - Silent All These Years The Chicks - March March 

what are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic)? I find inspiration in a lot of things, which I think is lucky. One of my biggest is the characters themselves. I love getting deep into understanding who I think they are, what their motivations are and why they’d make certain decisions, whether in canon or in an AU. What parts of their personalities do they keep when they aren’t tortured and under trauma on the regular? What would happen if I change this one scenario in their lives? I could probably go on forever just based on these sorts of thoughts, but I do also find inspiration in simple things like tropes, or song lyrics and the lore of the show itself. Quite a lot of my ideas in my inspiration notebook have sci-fi themes too. A few of my stories have already touched on sci-fi topics, and I absolutely plan more of them because I love how creative that can be. I also love the idea of suspended belief - can I have sentient plant life from an alien planet that can mindread & communicate by projecting thoughts into characters' heads? Yes, yes I can! (I wrote this story, fyi - Flora Incognita, part of a series) 

what attracts you to Murven? what first attracted you? Hey, do you have all day? Ha! Seriously, I could talk about this until everyone wants to strangle me! I loved Raven immediately - not so much Murphy! But I really disliked Finn, so ep 1x10 when Raven finally broke up with him had me interested. In that ep, you can see that Murphy is present, awake & nearby in the Dropship and probably overhears everything Raven says. Then he gets up and looks at her to make sure she’s still sleeping before he carries out his revenge plans. I’m not kidding - that one look absolutely and completely hooked me! Murphy was still awful then but he was so much more interesting than Finn, and back then I remember thinking how I’d really like to see them interact as two stubborn, strong personalities, because no doubt sparks would fly. And then when they did interact more, their dynamic was exactly what I’d hoped for and then some! 

I love that they’ve seen each other at their worst and at their weakest and most vulnerable, yet they’ve built a strong foundation of trust, faith and understanding. They have so much in common but they’re also different sides of the coin in some ways too. Fandom talks about Bellarke being the head & the heart, but to me Raven and Murphy are the intellect & the instinct - they complement each other, provide some of the qualities that the other needs, their differences improve each other. For me, nobody gets Raven like Murphy & nobody understands Murphy like Raven. Maybe not a lot of people notice, but Raven & Murphy check in with each other a lot - Raven tends to say “I got this” but Murphy is the only person who replies to her “Do you?”. And Raven listens to Murphy’s ideas and suggestions and plans even when she’s known as the genius because she knows that he has valuable things to say. They have fun together, make each other smile and enjoy each other’s company, which is in such short supply in this show! 

I know there’s parts of fandom that don’t ship them because Murphy shot Raven in s1. I have a lot of thoughts on it and have had quite a few tumblr posts about it. This is a fictional show - it does not reflect reality. I’ve been on the fringes of fandom for a long time and I know shipping doesn’t always mean yes, I want to see this relationship in real life. For me, I think it’s absolutely fascinating that someone Raven should hate has become one of her closest and most trusted friends. That she forgave him, and we as the audience get to see this dynamic change and grow, and that Murphy has always felt guilty about it even though he was being presented as selfish and out for himself - it’s such a huge, huge part of each of their character’s journeys. This is getting rather meta, but I don’t think either of these characters would have survived this long or evolved to the extent that they each have without specifically being around each other. 

And I absolutely can not discuss my love for Raven & Murphy without mentioning the whole way these two LOOK at each other! OMG have you SEEN it?!?? How could I not ship them when they look at each other like that! LOL! Also, I want to keep talking about this but I’ll stop now because I truly could go on forever and anyone who follows me already knows I’m wordy.

BESIDES Murven, what’s your favorite ship in t100? Honestly, nothing else comes close to Murven for me, but I did like Kabby before the show just eviscerated their characters. I like the possibilities of Niytavia still. I can see why people ship Murphamy in the earlier seasons. Definitely think Echo/Roan could’ve been something intriguing. And I’ve got this weird thing going right now where I wouldn’t hate Murphy/Russheda, but admittedly that’s mostly about the aesthetic! I tried really hard to like other partners for Raven & Murphy since they’ve always been my faves, but I’ve been meh about all the possibilities except Luna as a partner for Raven or as a Luna/Raven/Murphy threesome. At some point I might write that. Otherwise I’d say I tend to like the friendships more than the ships.

what are some things you’d like to recommend? I always hesitate to recommend other stories & authors because I can’t stand the idea of people feeling left out if I forget to mention them! But I would like to say that I really and truly love my fellow Murven shippers who read & support my stories and who create content like fic and art and gifs and fanvids. I find so much inspiration in them even though sometimes I can’t get through 30 seconds of a fanvid before I have to pause it because the angst is too much for me!

Since you’re kind enough to ask me this question and maybe a few people will read this answer, please - I recommend that everyone educate themselves on social justice and climate change and Black Lives Matter and capitalism and unions and what intersectionality & solidarity truly mean! Vote like your lives depend on it because THEY DO!

ed’s note: compiled a few resources -Rebel Well: A Starter Survival Guide to Trumped America -Jacob and Al’s Intergalactic Intersectionality Adventure -Get involved in your local chapter of DSA -Join Your Local Mutual Aid Group -Keeping Yourself Safe Online In This Capitalistic Hellscape -Angela Davis’ book Are Prisons Obsolete? -Resource about defunding the police

You can find @easilydistractedbyfanfic here on Tumblr, on Twitter, and on AO3. You can also a request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm!

[bobdylanrevisited]

Highway 61 Revisited

Released: 30 August 1965

Rating: 10/10

My favourite album of all time. Released just five months after BIABH, this is another unforgettable record which defines the 1960s. Unlike the previous album, this one is almost entirely electric, minus the closing song, and it was clear that Bob couldn’t be further from his folk roots. This is, for me, the pinnacle of music and song writing, and whilst I consider many of his albums to be masterpieces, this is the one that truly makes him a god in my eyes. He would tour following this release, with so-called fans hatefully booing at the sight of a drum kit or an amplifier. This only confirmed to Dylan that he had to continue revolutionising his sound, and if these people didn’t like it then he must be doing something right. 

1) Like A Rolling Stone - Judas! How dare he open with one of the greatest songs ever recorded. A needling, accusatory, schadenfreude attack of ‘Miss Lonely’, which relishes in a fall from grace. There’s been much speculation as to her identity, but it’s the refrain of ‘How does it feel?’ that will get under your skin and stay with you. The angry snarling of Dylan is both exhilarating and intense and it never gets old, the song sounds fresh every single time you hear it. Alongside the perfect lyrics, the crashing guitars and Al Kooper’s irregular organ chords give the track a uniquely jarring sound, and it’s breathtaking. It’s no wonder it’s often voted the greatest song ever made, and Dylan has enjoyed playing it live ever since, in many different styles. But nothing will ever top the Free Trade Hall 1966 performance, which is the greatest moment in musical history. If you haven’t heard it, go and listen to it immediately and prepare for your jaw to hit the floor. Oh, and don’t forget, play it fucking loud. 

2) Tombstone Blues - Dylan parades historical and pop culture figures in this fast paced song, which has been analysed as being about the Vietnam War or the absurdity of the zeitgeist. Another track that has remained popular in live sets for decades, it’s a brilliantly worded piece that is both amusing and confusing. The screeching guitar solos from Mike Bloomfield are pure rock ‘n’ roll and elevate the song to another level, although the whole band are phenomenal throughout the album. It’s just another brilliant track that couldn’t be further from his earlier work, but cements Dylan as a rock star. 

3) It Takes A Lot To Laugh, It Takes A Train To Cry - Although many quick tempo versions were rehearsed, this final recording was reworked by Dylan over a lunch break, because he’s a fucking genius. To create this beautiful song in under an hour is ridiculous, and it’s a lovely, bluesy tune which is less angry and cynical than many other songs on the album. The Newport Folk Festival 1965 version, which is hard to hear over the screams of those feeling betrayed, is great, but the Rolling Thunder Revue 1975 version is truly magnificent 

4) From A Buick 6 - Whilst this is the weakest song on the album, it’s still an incredible blues track with some brilliant singing from Bob. The lyrics aren’t as deep as the other songs, it’s basically about a woman who gives Bob life and potentially will cause his death, but the instrumentation is fun and it sounds like everyone is having a blast playing it. It’s a great tune that is a fun couple of minutes and there’s nothing wrong with that. 

5) Ballad Of A Thin Man - Poor Mr. Jones, probably Dylan’s most fully formed and completely repugnant character. This is my favourite track on the album and probably my favourite Dylan song (I know I say that about a lot of songs). It’s a brutal, depressing, bleak assassination of someone who has wronged Bob, with haunting piano that echos around the menacing words that send shivers down your spine. It’s most likely aimed at the reporters and the media who misunderstood Bob, or pretend to be cool and up to date with the culture, and here Bob unmasks them and publicly annihilates their fraudulent disguises. As with much of this album, it has remained in his live sets since release, but again no performance ever topped the Free Trade Hall 1966 one, the booing made Dylan’s words and delivery even more sinister and shocking. 

6) Queen Jane Approximately - Another needling song in the same vein as ‘Like A Rolling Stone’, though this one is more sympathetic to the subject. However, it is once again a classic track which sounds absolutely beautiful. Potentially about Joan Baez, though Dylan claims it actually about a man, it’s a fantastic piece that is both mellow and devastating at the same time. 

7) Highway 61 Revisited - The whistle on this song is iconic, as is the screamed refrain which is basically impossible to not shout at the top of your lungs with each listen. Biblical lyrics and dark imagery are contrasted by the upbeat tune, and it’s interesting that in reality, Highway 61 leads back to Dylan’s birth place, potentially making himself the true subject of the song. Another example of his advances in storytelling through references and metaphor, this is a deep and vivid song that Dylan still belts out on tour to this day. 

8) Just Like Tom Thumb’s Blues - Despite being a brilliant song, which creates an atmosphere of tiredness and surrender, the story Dylan tells here is both fascinating and, not surprisingly, fantastically written. Starting in Juarez and returning to New York City, the protagonist must fight off women, booze, drugs, and the police on his journey, and it’s a riveting tale. As there is no chorus or refrain, this could easily be a Kerouac short story, but it really works as a track you can lose yourself to. You’ll be wrapped up in your own imagination of the events, described in an incredibly personal way by Bob, as if he’s telling you this story directly. I know I’ve mentioned this a lot, but the Free Trade Hall 1966 version sounds like it’s not of this world and should be mandatory listening. 

9) Desolation Row - This is the true showcase of Bob’s skill with the english language, an 11 minute acoustic song, which is more like an epic poem of old. Again peppered with pop culture references, it was released during a period where 3 minute love songs were topping the charts, and shows how much Bob was challenging the notion of what music could be about, and really mastering it as a literary art form. It begins with infamous lynchings from Bob’s birthplace, before moving on to fairy tale characters, biblical figures, authors, poets, scientist, and the victims of the Titanic, to name but a few. The lyrics are so engrossing, and the delivery is almost hypnotic, that the 11 minutes feel like mere seconds, as he paints a tapestry in your mind that is exciting, vivid, and yet tinged with a bleakness as no one is happy in the song. It’s an incredible way to end the album, though you’d wish it went on forever. 

Verdict: Obviously, I consider this the definition of perfection. For an album that largely focuses on sadness, feeling lost, anger, and cynicism, no other record makes me feel as joyous as this one. It’s the culmination of everything that came before it, from the dense verses of ‘A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall’, to the audience rejection of ‘My Back Pages’, to the new sound on ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’, and it comes together to create this perfect album. It’s unfathomable that a human created this, it seems more like a gift from the universe made especially for me, and I implore you to listen to it on repeat. Each time you’ll discover something new and your favourite song will change numerous times. Bob’s next outing would be of a similarly astonishing quality, and whilst he was touring the world to a chorus of jeers, he was about to record another album that would continue to push the boundaries of popular music. 

[generouslyrainy-blog]

Short Stories you could read

During the lockdown, we can best spend time reading if we are not engaged in something else. In this short piece, I provide a glimpse of five great short stories freely available online. A well-told short story gives a magical experience. Some writers, like Julio Cortázar and Jorge Luis Borges, put a novel-worthy content in less than 15 to 20 pages, all with the sheer power of their language. Others, like Hemingway and Raymond Carver, show us how carefully chosen style, controlled sentimentality, and crisp, straightforward narrative transform the brutalities of existence and life into literary masterpieces. The authors I refer to here are but a small sample from a vast sea of exquisitely talented short story writers. These are some of my favorite ones.

Why read short stories?

Churchill said a speech should be like a woman's skirt — long enough to cover the subject, but short enough to arouse curiosity. That is what short stories are like: neither too long nor too short.

 Are you someone inclined to reading nonfiction and have little time for novels but still want to know what a good work of fiction is like? You have short stories. The aesthetics, craft, variety, and subjects found in the novel are present in short stories. Check out the following stories. They are amazing.

1. Symbols and Signs by Vladimir Nabokov

This story is about an elderly Jewish couple who visits their mentally ill son who, after an attempted suicide, is in a hospital. On their way back home, the father plans to remove the son from the hospital. The story quickly slides into an anxious mood when their phone rings ceaselessly, making the old couple anxious about their son. The unfolding of the story creates layers of interpretations through which we see a Russian Jewish family.

God's prose, if we assume that God writes in English, would not be as beautiful as Nabokov's.

For the fourth time in as many years, they were confronted with the problem of what birthday present to take to a young man who was incurably deranged in his mind. Desires he had none. Man-made objects were to him either hives of evil, vibrant with a malignant activity that he alone could perceive, or gross comforts for which no use could be found in his abstract world. Continue here.

2. The Lady with the Little Dog by Anton Chekov

A married man away from home has a brief but passionate affair with a young woman. The affair has to end, as all such flings do. But the brief encounter has started something deeper, more permanent than they both would have expected. How can a brief fling sometimes greatly affect people? This story explores that theme. Vladimir Nabokov said this story is the greatest one to have been ever written and that he would take Checkov's work 'on a trip to another planet'.

IT was said that a new person had appeared on the sea-front: a lady with a little dog. Dmitri Dmitritch Gurov, who had by then been a fortnight at Yalta, and so was fairly at home there, had begun to take an interest in new arrivals. Sitting in Verney's pavilion, he saw, walking on the sea-front, a fair-haired young lady of medium height, wearing a béret; a white Pomeranian dog was running behind her. Continue here.

3. Chef’s House by Raymond Carver

I absolutely love this short piece by the master. Wes, a middle-aged man, living by the sea in a house he rented from a recovered alcoholic, Chef — is dealing with his own alcoholism. He and his wife Edna haven’t been together for two years and he calls her to be with him. She joins him and they have a happy summer together. Going fishing and all that. That happiness is short-lived, though. Chef tells them they have to leave by the end of the month because his daughter, who lost her husband in the sea, would move in. Wes takes it all very badly. The couple is at a metaphorical edge. What would happen to Wes — to Edna? What lay ahead is open to interpretation, but prospects aren’t all that good for Wes — he might trip over.

I remember reading somewhere that another writer, probably a Carver admirer (I find it hard for anybody to not be a Carver fan), started his novel where Carver’s short story ends.

This is a charming story. You should read it. I could not locate a free online version of the story, but you can listen to David Means reading Chef’s House at New Yorker Fiction Podcast.

4. Yesterday by Haruki Murakami

The Japanese author Haruki Murakami is a great master of the short story. Pick up any Murakami piece and you are in for a thrill of sorts. In all the exotic thrill of strange human relations or compulsions — as in Barn Burning where a man has a compulsion to burn down barns, Samsa in Love which an echo of Kafka’s Metamorphosis, and Kino, a curious story of an elderly heartbroken guy — Murakami shows us a mirror image of ourselves, our times, and the reality of which we are a part. A genius working on cosmopolitan themes, peppering his work with a liberal amount of Miles Davis and Beatles, he is a writer worth reading.

Yesterday is published in his collection Men without Women. Tanimura, a middle-aged man, remembers his friend from youth, an erratic guy who used to put Japanese lyrics in Kansai dialect to Beatles' Yesterday. Kitaru and Tanimura work in a coffee shop. Kitaru ­ — a weirdo of sorts — is dating Erika Kuritani, a vivacious and beautiful girl. In a curious turn of events, Kitaru asks Tanimura to go with his girlfriend. Tanimura does. Kitaru disappears. Murakami melds music, youth, love, time and its power over people, memory, and strangeness in one supremely crafted story.

As far as I know, the only person ever to put Japanese lyrics to the Beatles' song “Yesterday” (and to do so in the distinctive Kansai dialect, no less) was a guy named Kitaru. He used to belt out his own version when he was taking a bath. Continue here.

5. What is Remembered by Alice Munro

Alice Munro requires no introduction. Well, she won the Nobel Prize in Literature. Her masterful stories deal with many themes of human interest, including memory, relationships, and growing up. In her stories, she studies memory as a potential force that dictates our actions.

In What is Remembered, a brief affair with a man lingers in a woman’s mind. Thirty years afterward, she remembers one more detail. By now, both the husband and lover have died. How does memory follow people? What effects does it have on us? What effect, speaking a little parochially, does an affair from youth have on our older, wizened selves?

The breathtaking charm of Munro’s prose style is another reason for you to read her work.

In a hotel room in Vancouver, Meriel as a young woman is putting on her short white summer gloves. She wears a beige linen dress and a flimsy white scarf over her hair. Dark hair, at that time. Continue here.

[charliefmd]

creative claims verification: full lyrical claim and partial composing claim for no jam. // wc: 1106

“Hey did you hear about…?” “Really? No way! I actually heard that…” “Don’t you think she’s a bit… I don’t know how to explain it but she rubs me the wrong way.” “No wonder he acts like that…” “My, what a scandal they’ve gotten themselves in. I wonder how they’ll try to weasel their way out of it now.”

Hushed whispers through the grapevine becomes the background noise to her daily life — a constant reminder that her life has become everybody’s business (when it had never concerned them to begin with) when she showed her face on TV for the first time, when she stepped into the spotlight and made her name and face known, and it’s a decision she can’t take back (a fact she sometimes struggles to accept when her love for the spotlight becomes too much of a burden to carry on her own.)

Fame comes with a side dish of rude awakening of having strangers poking their nose into a situation which never called for the opinion of an outsider. The first time it happened she remembers being surprised and a little scared too, but then it happens again and again and again. Lather, rinse and repeat. By the time her group has reached their peak, so has the many comments and rumours of them, the members, floated around. (It’s during this time she learns strangers on the internet would be the least of her worries — it would do her well to look over her shoulder every once in a while because an opposition was always closer than she would expect.)

“Hey, earth to Charlie!”

“What?” snapping her head up from her dazed stupor, her attention zones in on her brother, and he gives her a look telling her he had been trying to get her attention for quite a while. He stifles his laughter at her expression as she shoots him a glare for him to shut up (which he doesn’t, of course, and it only drives him to openly laugh at her instead.) “What is it that you wanted to ask me that was so important and urgent?”

“I can’t remember,” he replies cheekily and with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulder they drop the subject just like that. Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head at his behaviour, and he’s supposed to be the older one out of the two of us? She often questions the level of his maturity. More than ready to go back to her lyric writing, but his voice interrupts her yet again and she knows by the tone of his voice that he’s fishing for something. “Do you keep up with everything that goes on behind the scenes? Like other idols and shit?”

“Yeah? It’s kinda hard to miss to be honest,” a raised eyebrow at his sudden interest in the world of idols he decided to leave behind all those years ago to find another path for himself, leaving her to live out a dream she never wanted for herself. It used to surprise her how little privacy there was and how most people seemed to know everything (keyword here being seemed) even when it had nothing to do with them. Connections were a tangled web of assumptions being served as facts and nobody seemed to bother locating the source, instead they happily run their mouths and adding fuel to the fire.

It is in moments like these she actually (surprisingly) wants to distance herself from the spotlight and all the attention that came with it, wanted to blend in with her surroundings and simply not be known for a moment in time. Wanted to get away from the noise and hustle she otherwise always surrounded herself with, wanted to just let go and have some sort of fun and play — all on her own terms and without all the consequences that could potentially come with it.

The scribbles on the page in front of her are scrambled thoughts of a girl just wanting to live an easy breezy life despite her actual circumstances telling her otherwise.

— — — ☆ — — —

From the first piano note, she knows the song is going to become one she is going to enjoy not only creating but also performing (it is how she ends up pushing for the song to become either the title track, or at the very least have them let her perform it as the second song to promote on music shows, because she just needed people to hear it and watch it in its entirety.)

It starts off pretty simple enough, with the song kicking off by introducing the listeners to an upbeat piano melody, which carries itself into and throughout the rest of the song too. It is a prominent part of this song in particular, keeping the melody light and fun even when part of the lyrics would suggest otherwise, but she loves working with contrasts and layers like that.

Show the people a facade but let them be surprised by the nuances of the song.

The whole song is an ode to the fun and reckless times of youth, a time she lost to the early beginnings of her career way before she even knew what she wanted to do or what she wanted to become when she grew up, and she would be doing herself and the song a disservice if the composition did not also reflect that.

The first composition draft is messy, chaotic, and all over the place. It is, quite honestly, a disaster, but it is a disaster with a purpose. No first drafts of anything are ever meant to be perfect, and because she knows it will go through several more stages of fine tuning before they officially and finally land on a final draft, she allows herself to play around with it for the time being. She finds it necessary, for this particular song too, to have the composition go through the several stages of madness for her to determine what would actually sound good and what they needed to work on.

It is a song meant to hype the crowd, and how else do one hype a crowd at a concert than to scream? A stroke of genius has her adding herself shouting in the song a couple of times (nothing too ear shattering, of course, she wants the people to have fun not to burst their eardrums), and by the end of the day, if the song does not make people want to jump around or let loose then she has failed her own mission of creating a fun and engaging song.

[scarlettsabetlondongirl]

Read Full article here or below

Poet Scarlett Sabet talks isolation, inspiration and working with her partner, Jimmy Page

Scarlett Sabet’s spoken word album Catalyst grapples with love, politics and isolation – and features production by Jimmy Page

By Thomas Barrie

19 April 2020

Envy Jimmy Page: one of the most compelling, passionate poems of recent years was written about him. It was penned by his partner, the poet Scarlett Sabet, and it appears on Sabet’s latest spoken-word album Catalyst – which Page produced. Seems like a fair deal.

Sabet, who was born in Surrey but now lives in London, has been working with Page since they first met in 2014. She now has four written collections to her name, alongside the album. Her work is often political and, enhanced by Page’s production on the spoken-word tracks, sensual and otherworldly. Sabet names William S Burroughs and the beat poets as influences, and Jack Kerouac in particular – one track on Catalyst is named “For Jack” – though she is just as likely to write about the immigration crisis or the Bataclan massacre as she is to embrace the fluidity and experiential language of the Beats.

GQ spoke to Sabet, who elaborated on Catalyst, her relationship and collaboration with Page and how she has been working during the coronavirus lockdown.

How are you and Jimmy spending time in the pandemic? What’s it like?

Scarlett Sabet: I think, as a writer, I’ve always been a bit of a lone wolf. Social distancing has come naturally to me. From a very young age I would always read my parents’ books; my mother would have a lot of Margaret Atwood. I would kind of dive into my parents’ bookshelf and obviously that has spilled out into writing.

I think with the virus it's different, because there's this unfolding tragedy every day, so it's nothing to be glib about. I get up in the morning, have a green tea and try to meditate. I try to do yoga in the morning, something physical, and I’ve been watching the five or six o'clock news to check in with it. This is the fine line I think everyone's trying to balance at the moment – wanting to know what's going on, because things change by the hour and it's massively life-changing, but I think you need to balance your intake. So I definitely watch the news and then read and write and experiment.

We were scheduled to do a slot at Hay Festival. Jimmy was asked to talk about Catalyst. And then I'd also been asked by Van Morrison to read some of his lyrics – he's got a book of his lyrics coming out. The first one came out in 2016, so I read “The Way Young Lovers Do” at a festival in Belfast in 2016. He was going to do a similar event here as well, so that would have been nice. But I think it's going to be taken to the internet, as it were. I'm recording a video for Van at some point.

How do you keep writing during isolation? Is it hard to find inspiration?

Scarlett Sabet: Sometimes, with writing, I’ve found that discipline works – doing it every day and treating it like a job. I also have had amazing moments of inspiration. One of the poems on Catalyst was called “Fifth Circle Of Hell”. I wrote that here at home and it was about the refugee crisis. I remember seeing a tent in the rain in Calais and thinking, “Jesus.” I wrote a couple of lines down in my Moleskine notebook. And then I remember thinking like, “OK, I'm going to write more about that tomorrow.” The next day, Jimmy had a meeting in the house. So he was in one room and I just went off into a small room and I couldn't go anywhere else in the house. I had a green tea. I was in front of my computer. I typed that one up. And it just came out – it was like a channelling: these images and just a sense of, “What the hell is going on?”

My father was born in Iran, so I'm half-Persian and that made a big impact. I’m very lucky. My parents sent me to a private school and my father was studying architecture in Italy and then the UK, prior to the Iranian Revolution. But nonetheless, that changed his life, and the whole country. On the other side of my family, my great-grandfather was in the French Resistance and his life definitely would have been different if his country hadn’t been occupied by the Nazis. So this is one of the things I was saying to Jimmy: stuff has been cancelled, but it's bigger than us. It's all in perspective. So I'm definitely trying to be positive, keep a routine and check in with friends and family. It's a good time to be grateful for what you do have.

Your work seems very connected to the outside world, though – is it hard to work when you’re stuck indoors?

Scarlett Sabet: I wrote “Rocking Underground” – the first track on Catalyst – on the Tube. My computer broke and it was a deadend Sunday. I grew up in Dorking in Surrey and I love London, but any big city, whether it's New York or London, the effort it takes, sometimes, just to exist is hard. This particular Sunday, I was on the Tube and my computer broke and I just had this “Urgh” feeling. I had Walt Whitman’s Leaves Of Grass in my bag and I was reading that and I had trouble connecting to his world. I thought “This is beautiful, but this is not my reality today.” And so I put down the book and I got out my Moleskine again, and I wrote “Rocking Underground”. There weren't rewrites of that. That's how it came out the first time I wrote it. It was definitely channelling something coming through me.

How has Jimmy influenced your poetry?

Scarlett Sabet: The first poetry reading I ever did was in 2013, at the World’s End Bookshop in Chelsea. I had an apartment in Knightsbridge and Jimmy lived [near] High Street Kensington, so we bumped into each other. We had a mutual friend; we both went to this bookshop. I waitressed for my whole twenties – I only stopped waitressing last August because I knew Catalyst was coming up and I knew we'd be doing stuff for that. So Jimmy came to the first poetry reading, which I organised, and a friend of mine from waitressing, Alice, designed the poster. I just felt compelled to share my work and I invited other people. That was in November 2013. And Jimmy came along. I think that really resonated with him.

And so, our relationship started at the end of August 2014. I self-published my first book in November 2014. I was so young and I was flattered that [a publisher] wanted to publish me – I took that as a good endorsement, but I wasn't quite sure. And I mentioned to Jimmy and said, “What do you think? Do you think I should do it with them?” And he said he thought they were kind of playing me around and he said, “Are you ready to publish?” I said yes. And he said, “Well, then you should self-publish.” And I was like, “Oh, OK.” I didn't really think of that. The parallel he used was that he had been in The Yardbirds. He’d been a session musician and when The Yardbirds ended, he went back to being a session musician. He knew he wanted to create a band, but seeing how the record label’s demand for producing hit single, hit single, hit single had broken The Yardbirds, he thought “I'm not going to do that.” Instead of going to a record company and saying, “I would like to write some songs in the studio, please can I have some money?” he produced and paid for Led Zeppelin’s first album – and then went to them and said, “This is what we’ve got and this is what we’re going to do.” So in the spirit of that, I self-published. Waitressing paid for that.

Around the time my first book came out – and this was before people found out Jimmy and I were together – that was when Jimmy first brought up the idea that we might do something together. He said, “We should do that at some point.” Part of Jimmy’s genius is timing. We felt it would be best to announce [our relationship] and release [our collaboration] on the same day. And Jimmy said, “Look, some people are going to love it. Some people are not. But at least that way it could speak for itself.” Instead of there being chatter about it, people could just listen to it, make up their own minds. So we did it that way. And it was really very magical working with Jimmy. He’s really believed in me before anyone else and at times more then I believe in myself.

Tell me about “Possession”, which you’ve read for us from home.

Scarlett Sabet: It seems very sensual and it's about being in love. And it's about the divinity of our passion together and my desire for him. I know, to a lot of people, our relationship looks a certain way on paper, but to me I just can't believe it – it's like we were pulled together and it's been this amazing love and [he’s] this amazing person who's been my mentor as well. “Possession” was written trying to understand what it is that we… As soon as we came together, it was like this collision.

Jimmy didn’t really do anything to it on Catalyst. There are no effects applied to it like there were to “Fifth Circle Of Hell”. It's definitely very intimate. I remember saying I would whisper it to him. There's so much tragedy and death and I just felt like, “You know what? I'm grateful for the love I have.” Let's focus on something loving, as it were, and something a bit more intimate, because the global landscape at the moment is very brutal and sad

Catalyst can be purchased here