#lyrically I really think this is not his strongest by any means

[harryseyebrows]

absolutely no one asked for my album ranking but here it is anyway

1. satellite: this is subject to change but it’s the one that is most likely to get stuck in my head. the production on this track is fucking nuts. i love how dynamic it is

2. late night talking: a very close second spot, but it actually tied for first. it’s really just a fucking banger

3. daylight: it’s cute! fun! very earnest in his signature boyish way

4. music for a sushi restaurant: as my sister described it ‘a glee/pitch perfect wet dream’ that i do not disagree with but am also somehow not bothered by. again, it’s fun and light and a little nonsensical a la watermelon sugar

5. as it was: i can’t tell if i just have stockholm syndrome or not bc this song is literally fucking everywhere, including very obscure targeted ads, BUT it’s warranted bc it’s a bop

6. grapejuice: not really standout for me but it’s tolerable to have on in the background while doing stuff

7. boyfriends: i don’t care to try and parse out what perspective he’s singing from bc i think that angle is fucking boring and some of u need to relax but his voice sounds nice and the harmonies are good

8. daydreaming: has the vibe of a song i might have heard in a forever 21 circa 2015 while desperately trying to find any article of clothing that didn’t have awful screenprinted phrases or studs on it. overall does not do it for me at all

9. cinema: a bit heavy handed in the miss swift 1989 ‘james dean daydream look in your eye’ style. unlike daylight, this song lacks his vaguely depraved desperation that we have heard in songs like adore you and only angel and instead get the absolute lame ass “do you think im cool?” pick me boy nonsense. i am bitter and im allowed to be a bitch about it

10. matilda: idk who matilda is and im sorry the situation being discussed is quite a bummer, but this song simply is not my cup of tea. im also not a huge fan of people airing out other peoples childhood trauma for their own gain cough ed sheeran cough

11. love of my life: i have listened to it exactly once and that was enough. i cannot even begin to tell you what this song might sound like from memory

12.

13.

two tracks i will not even mention by name bc the lyrics make me feel violent and i think he needs to spend some time in like….detention. or be sent to the fucking moon bc jfc

#it’s a big skip album for me tbh #i think it’s really cohesive in a way that I was yearning for when he made hs1 #bc that was really all over the place and you could tell he wa trying really hard to be taken seriously by Men Musicians #and that whole boys club bullshit #fine line is still that bitch #so well rounded #tbsl is still his magnum opus in my opinion #sonically Harry’s house is Good #but it sounds like a lot of music I’ve already been listening to for years now #which I’ve actually been curating a list/playlist of #and this is not to say that he is copying or anything like that #there are only so many notes and chord progressions and keys #i just still think he didn’t do anything groundbreaking with this album #and that might be unfair bc he’s allowed to simply make music he likes that is enjoyable to listen to #expectations were high all around I think #bc he’s gained a lotttt of popularity recently #and bc the jump from hs1 to fine line was pretty significant #lyrically I really think this is not his strongest by any means #to me I just feel really stuck with the way he talks about women #as in i fucking hate it lol #oh well #jfjdkdkdksks

[starphasedd]

Egon

(Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader)

Rating: 18 + for violence and explicit smut.

Synopsis: A small confession leads to something completely unexpected.

Notes: As promised!! I'm super proud of this guys! I think I captured Simon quite nicely. I am new to the fandom, and still reading lore. Feel free to correct me on anything you see wrong. Egon is actually the codename for my OC Ema 'Egon' Swann. This fic started with her, but as to not be selfish, I made it more inclusive by changing it to the reader perspective! I hope you enjoy!!

Word count: 8k+

AO3

Egon. 

German, by nature. Meaning "strong with the wind" 

That was the nickname the men of task force 141 gave you. 

They had many reasons for this name. You were fast–agile on your feet. Small and clean. It was hard for any enemy to catch you, or even see you coming. You were strong too, for a woman of your size. You could easily take down a man twice your size with the techniques you studied and used over the years. But their main reason for giving you this nickname was for your sharpshooter skills. No matter the conditions, you always made your shot. Rain, thunder, wind. You never missed. No outlying factor kept you from doing your job. 

That's what gained you the respect of task force 141. 

You've known these men for a while, having been asked to join the team just over two years ago. In that time, you got to learn the boys well. All of them respected you and treated you as their equal–something you worked so hard for. Being a woman in this field of work is challenging, even for some of the strongest ladies you know. That didn't stop you from doing your job–which impressed Price when he worked with you on a mission before he asked you to join the team. 

It was a mission in New York City, where you were a part of the NYPD task force. The lead was mafia related and Price's team was called in to assist. Your captain at the time knew it was a risky job, and he needed devoted and dangerous men to help him take their leader down. You along with a couple of your own comrades fought side-by-side task force 141 and pushed through a successful mission. 

Everything after that is history. You left with Price and his team, never looking back. 

These men are your family now, and you love every single one of them in your own way. Price and Gaz keep to themselves most of the time– Soap is the one you'd definitely call 'brother'. You and him have the best dynamic. He's goofy and chill, and you adore that about him. Inherently with him comes his Lieutenant, Ghost. A man you haven't really been able to get a read on since you met him those couple years ago. Yes, of course, it's mainly to do with the fact that he wears that damn mask twenty-four-seven. But he also isn't the most personable guy. He speaks when he needs to, and fights when he has to--but he hasn't really gone out of his way to get to know you–even though you and Soap are practically attached at the hip. 

Being close to Soap means he typically picks you to go along with him and Ghost on missions. Which you don't mind. When the three of you get split up, the commlink keeps you all close, figuratively. 

One of the things you and Soap bonded over was your mutual adoration of music. You didn't have the best childhood, and music was your escape. It appeared Soap used music to his comfort as well. So, when you're on missions but split apart, Soap keeps in your ear either spatting off random lyrics of songs, or requesting you sing to him. Much to Ghost's dismay–who has to listen to you two banter about why you don't like country music, or why Soap can remember so many random lyrics. Ghost keeps quiet, and you wonder if you get on his nerves. He's the type of guy to speak his mind and the fact that he hasn't said anything yet suggests he may…be okay with it? Who knows with that man.

Ghost keeps close, but far away at the same time. He treated you like an equal, and always made sure he had your six. The same thing goes for you. Granted, the giant, pure muscle of a man never really needed your help. You were always there for him. Over time, he seemed to soften on you. He would use your real name on occasion. He got worried sometimes when you didn't answer his comms right away and would scold you once you were all back together.

'Fuck woman, answer the bloody comms when your superior asks for your status.' He would gruff in that deep British baritone. 

You would never admit it, but something about that man set your body on fire. His size, his voice, his attitude. Fuck, his attitude alone. He exudes confidence and experience without being cocky. There's nothing quite like a confident man–a man who knows what he wants and can take it whenever he wants….but doesn’t. He was always looming over your shoulder, watching you intently through the holes in his mask. Soap would comment on it every now and then, making fun of the Lieutenant for not being able to keep his eyes off you for a moment. You didn't think it was that serious–you convinced yourself he was just watching you for your own safety. As any good teammate would. 

But then the subtle touches started. You would feel his large hand splaying over your lower back as he walked beside you up the copter ramp, almost as if he was guiding you. Of course it never happened if someone was around to see it—he made sure of it. But it would happen more frequently. They were genuine, and gentle touches. And completely innocent. Being a woman, you had an intuition for men's intentions–since you dealt with them your entire life. Ghost never set any alarms off. You always felt safe with him.

You trusted him with your life, and you hoped he felt the same about you. 

He was cold and calculating—mysterious and quiet. Though he showed those small, intimate minstations to you and you alone, you tried not to think too much into it. Ridding yourself of the disappointment before it reared its ugly head. You often thought about what he looked like under that mask. You've seen his eyes countless times. They were brown like freshly ground coffee. He had blonde eyelashes that stuck out amongst the black paint he smeared right there. He had a strong, chiseled jawline. Sometimes you can see a few prominent veins through his mask when he tightens it. His neck is strong and thick, no doubt riddled with scars from his many years slaughtering men. 

You imagined what his body looked like too. He's a big man, standing almost an entire foot taller than you. He had thick, broad shoulders and a puffy, muscular chest. Even when he wore one hundred pounds of gear, you could still see how fit he was. His waist was thin and strong, he had a certain swagger when he walked that always caught your eye. His forearms almost looked fat, they were so fucking thick with muscle. He was covered in huge protruding veins on both arms–they were even visible on the arm that was covered in tattoos. And his hands always made you blush. They were twice the size of yours, and you spent many occasions watching his big fingers work the trigger on his guns like a thread. He was nimble, and agile there. 

You wondered what they would feel like–if they would grip your throat with delicacy or fierceness. If they would roam down your neck and swallow your breasts in a warm squeeze. If they would trail your curves all the way down to your ass and nead the soft, pillowy flesh there. If they would tease you–circling around that sensitive bundle of nerves until you were weeping for him. If they would pump you, fill and stretch you out until you were ready for his cock. Or would he even give you that decency and instead, take you unprepared in a hot, lustful frenzy? 

It's all human nature, you suppose. It's natural for a woman to be sexually attracted to a protector like Ghost. It goes back thousands of years–it's all instinct. That's what you tell yourself after you cum on your hand thinking about your Lieutenant. When that wave of unfiltered shame and guilt rushes over you following your high. 

_______

"Egon, how copy?" Comes that familiar gruffy voice. 

You jump slightly, shuddering out of your thoughts as you neel against the abandoned brick building. Your rifle in your left hand, fingers tight on the trigger. 

"Jesus, Lieutenant–awaiting target. No eyes yet." You grunt out, face heating up in embarrassment. He always knew when to catch you off guard.

"Eyes on the prize, sergeant. Stay focused." 

You scoff, eyes rolling as you adjust your stance slightly. It's dark, the only light you have to use coming from old, orange colored lamps hanging from the buildings. To top that off, it's been raining all day so it's doubly hard to see far in the distance. Even with a scope. 

"Easy for you to say, Lieutenant. I'm out here freezing my ass off and you're inside a nice warm building." You mumble into the mic. 

"Punishment for not listening to your superior." 

"Bite me." You retort. 

No response. You grin. Any opportunity you get to fight back at the Lieutenant scolding you, you'll take. 

A few minutes in silence go by as you wait patiently for your target to come into view. You have a black mask covering the bottom half of your face, leaving only your eyes and forehead exposed. A heavy leather hood covers your hair. Soft pelts of rain dropping keep you focused in the moment. Your tactical boots are worn and wet, holes from misuse letting water in to soak your socks. The harness tied around your waist and thighs is digging into your pants, which are rubbing and chafing your skin. Your back hurts from being on your feet all day, and your head is pounding. You usually get headaches when it rains. You are so fucking ready for this day to be over. 

You stay steadfast nonetheless. Eyes focused on the door the target will be coming out of. 

A few more minutes go by in silence when you hear the comm start to buzz, indicating someone was about to speak. 

"Why can't orphans play baseball?" 

You can't help the cheeky grin that creeps its way upon your face. 

"Why?" You ask.

"They don't know where home is."

"Ghost," You say with a huff, attempting to hide the laugh trying to claw its way out of your throat. "Shut the fuck up." 

"It's inappropriate to speak to your superior that way."

"Sorry, let me rephrase. Shut the fuck up, sir." 

"Better." 

You grin, holding the butt of your rifle up to your cheek in anticipation. Your finger reaches up and you adjust the scope. You close your left eye and squint your right as you look through the glass. You hadn't realized you never turned off your mic when Ghost crimes in again. 

"Control your breathing, Sergeant. It'll help you focus better." 

Your breath catches in your throat the moment is deep voice comes through the ear piece. Was the bastard really listening to you breath this whole time? Your tongue slides over your bottom lip, moistening the smooth skin there. You let a long breath come out before slowly breathing back in, reducing your heart rate. With your breath now cool and even, you sink back into the task at hand. 

"Atta girl." Ghost whispers in that english accent, his voice sending a wave of chills down your spine. 

Your chest pulls tight at his encouraging words, and if you hadn't been so focused on the door in front of you, you may have retorted something flirty back. But just as you were about the touch the communicator, the door in your sights swings open. You pause and hunch down impossibly lower as a tall man, accompanied by three other men stumble out of the building. You're so low now your chest could practically touch your boots. Your back is arched and steady, fingers itching to pull the trigger as you search for the man you have a description of. 

The rain is starting to pick up now, thunder rocketing through the air as lightning snaps to the ground in the distance. Your breathing is steady and firm, flowing visible streams in front of your face as the chill in the air makes you shiver. 

You're so focused on identifying the target in front of you that you don't hear the footsteps approach you from behind. They're quiet, trained and quick. You lock eyes on the target. A tall, skinny man. He has long, curly blonde hair that flows just past his shoulders. The identifying marker is a scar on the left side of his face. It's long–stretching from the bottom of his jaw all the way up and over his eye. It stops just above his eyebrow. 

Rain is starting to smear over the scope lense, making it increasingly difficult to see the taget. After a moment, you lick your lips away, your pointer finger hones down on the trigger and starts to stretch it down. The man across the way reaches down for the door handle on the SVU next to him. You take one final breath in and hold, steady and true. Your finger pulls down, emitting a loud pop in your ear. It's quick, and the target immediately falls to the ground. Not a word, not a sound. Silence as his body hits the cold, wet concrete. The men around him start to panic and pull their guns out, rapidly stomping around in circles to try and spot where the bullet came from. 

One turns in your direction. He doesn't see you, but starts running in your direction. You cock back and lift on your feet. You stand to almost your full height, knees slightly bent. You pull the trigger again. The second victim drops to the ground with a loud and painful grunt. At this point, you've given yourself away. Blood rushes through your ears as the two other men start sprinting in your direction. You slowly start to back up, cocking back yet again to let another bullet fly. Bullseye–a direct hit to another man's head. Your focus now remains on the last man standing who has gone into a hiding stance. You stand up fully and start to turn. When you do, you hear the sound of another rifle going off. Blood splatters across your face as a man–whom you had no idea was directly behind you–falls against the brick wall and his lifeless body slides down. 

You gasp softly at the sight–having had absolutely no clue the man was behind you getting ready to attack. You look around quickly, trying to locate where the shot came from when Ghost's voice comes through the headset. 

"Thought you knew better, sergeant."

Your breathing is heavy as you look up at the building across the street. On the fourth floor, Ghost moves forward to reveal himself through the window. The bone part of his mask almost lights up as he positions his rifle and shoots the last of the men on the street. He looks down at you as he lowers his rifle. His massive body towering in the window. His eyes lock with yours as your chest heaves up and down. The hood on your jacket has fallen now, and rain is starting to soak your hair. It sticks to your cheeks and neck. The water soaks your face. 

"Were you watching me?" You ask, slight irritation in your tone. 

"Had I not been, you'd be dead."

You scoff, clenching your jaw and rolling your tongue in your mouth as you keep eye contact with him. 

"Get down here. Let's go." 

Embarrassment was evident in your tone, but you couldn't hide that from Ghost. You couldn't hide anything from a man with his experience. So you gave in and let it out. 

Ghost was down in your area within a minute or so, and he approached you slowly. 

It was still raining as you and Ghost started walking towards the safe house. It was a small cottage on the outskirts of this shitty little town. Price said there was a shower, and that's all you could ask for. You walk silently next to your superior, who hasn't looked at or spoken to you since he came down from the building. You keep your eyes forward and alert as your heavy boots slush through the wet streets. 

"Have you heard from Soap?" You ask softly. 

"Affirmative. He's on the other side of the city with Price and Gaz. They're at the other safehouse." He responded in that deep tone.

He's safe. A gentle sigh of relief left your lips as you continued your walk to the safehouse. 

The walk there stays silent. With Ghost keeping close to your rear, he almost hovers over you but he's slow. Which is unusual for him. On occasion, you could have sworn you could hear his breathing. It was loud and sounded labored. You raised your voice a little at one point to ask if he was alright and grunted back at you. Something seemed off. 

After a couple hours carefully trekking through the nearly flooded city, you made it to the safe house. It was pitch black, away from any city lights to give you away. It was a small, one room cottage. When you opened the door, you cleared the room with your rifle. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough to house the two of you until the morning. There was a small, two person bed, a run-down kitchen and a small, detached bathroom with holes in the door. It was filthy, but you were thankful to be out of the rain. You noticed a small fireplace that seemed clean enough to use. 

You turn to Ghost, who is towering behind you. "I'll start a fire. You should try and get a hold of Price and let him know we're okay." 

The large man grunted, and turned slowly in the direction on the bed. You watched his feet almost drag the floor. And when he sat down on the edge of the bed, you noticed him trying to conceal the hand that was holding his side. 

You watch him for a few moments before turning your attention to the fire. It was starting to get cold. Worry about Ghost later so the both of you don't freeze to death here. Gathering what little kindling and firewood you could find, you begin to light the fire. First you pile in some pieces of wood you found here and there, and then you line the tower with what kindling you could find. Reaching into your soaked chest pocket, you pulled out the lighter you hoped wasn't flooded. And by some miracle, it wasn't. You easily ignited a small fire in the run-down fireplace. 

Turning around, you glance over to see Ghost still sitting with his hand on his side. His hulking figure dips the mattress by a good bit. 

"Fucking awful communicators." He grunts out before he rips the mic off his head. 

"Not able to get a hold of Price, huh?" You say with a soft smile. 

He shakes his head slowly. A grunt being his only response, again. 

You stand from where you sit, starting to pull your weapons and gear off. Your weapons come first. You gently set the rifle up against the wall, and place your handguns beside them. Knives get stuck in a pile next to the handguns. You reach around to unstrap your vest, pulling it off your shoulders. It drops to the floor with a thud, which grabs Ghost's attention. Once your vest is off, you move to take your harness off. Ghost watches you through half lidded eyes. You prop one leg up on a grate for better access to the straps that trail from your waist, all the way down to your feet. Starting with the foot strap, you unclip the buckle. Your hands slide up your calves to your thighs, where the second set of straps dig into the skin there. 

You quickly make way with those buckles and pull them down your legs. The last strap around your waist is easy. You stand and unclip the last buckle and let that strap fall to your feet. A relieved sigh leaves your lips as you turn to walk towards Ghost. He was still watching you, his hand holding his side. He hasn't moved–still sitting there uncomfortably, no doubt, in his full gear. You approach him slowly, hands hugging your hips as you test these waters. 

"Let me see." You say gently as you stop directly in front of him. He's so big that he's still eye height with you, even sitting down. 

"I'm fine." He grunts. 

"Sir–" 

"I said I'm fine. Tend to your own." He says. 

"I just want to help, sir. " 

He glances up at you through his mask. You're standing close–so close he can feel the heat radiating off your body. His eyes meet your face, his hand still hovering over the wound on his side.

"Do you trust me?" You ask gently.  

He seems hesitant, no doubt unsure what he wants to do. But after a few moments of watching you, he lets the hand on his side slowly drop to his thigh. He breathes out slowly. 

"Yes." 

You take this moment to be bold for the first time with him. You suck a breath in and hold, slowly reaching forward and gliding your hands over his shoulders. They fall down his back to unstrap the back of his weapons vest. Your eyes bounce back and forth between his as your chest presses softly to the pack on the front of his body. You pull the straps up over his shoulders and let the best slide down his front, pulling it off and gently setting it down on the floor by his feet. Next, your nimble fingers work at the zipper on his jacket–pulling down until it unclips at the bottom. You run your hands over his shoulders again to pull the rain jacket off–setting it on the mattress next to him. 

He looks bigger this way, which should be impossible. You just took eighty pounds of gear off his body but even now, in just his black pull-over hoodie and rain jacket, he looks bigger. His muscles are more defined. You can see the bulge of his strong pecs, the roundness of his arms. 

You stand up to look at him once again. 

"May I?" You ask softly. 

He doesn't speak, but nods slowly. 

You mind his permission and slowly grab the bottom of his hoodie, pulling it up and over his chest. What reveals is a nasty stab wound–about three inches long. Blood trails all the way down to his jeans. Most of it is dry, but some warm blood indicates it's still bleeding. 

"Jesus wept. You were going to leave this unattended?" You ask, glancing up to meet his gaze. 

He brings his hand up to hold his hoodie for you. You remove your hand and reach into the first aid kit attached to his utility belt. Pulling it open and starting to look through the supplies. 

"I've had worse." He retorts with a snort. 

You can't help but smile gently, looking at him through the corner of your eye as you rummage through his bandage pack. 

"You're an idiot." 

"I'll be sure to remember that when I'm doing your performance review." 

"In that case, be sure to remember this. I want a raise." You say with a small laugh as you set some bandages down on his thigh. 

"A raise? You can barely do what you're told now. Only good employees get raises." He retorts, you swear you can hear the grin on his mouth. 

"I've never been one to respect authority." You say, a cheeky grin meeting his gaze as your hand brings a sanitary wipe to his wound. 

"Fuckin' Americans." 

You laugh out loud this time, hand gently gliding over his wound–cleaning it with the sanitary wipe. You take notice of his build. He's strong, thick and muscular. He has some chest hair, and some hairs that trail under his jeans. He's incredibly built as well–of course he is. You knew that. He was a huge man, and incredibly strong. There was no doubt in your mind he was sculpted to the heavens. His skin is littered with scars. Some range from as small as your fingernails, to the size of your fist. You wish you could touch them all, to ask their stories. How did he get this one? That one? 

The little shack is quiet for a few more minutes as you finish cleaning and treating his wound. You take it slow so as to not cause him any discomfort. Something tells you he really doesn't care, but you do. His eyes watch you through the hole in the skull of his mask. The black eye paint makes his blue hues glow in the moonlight. Rain patters softly against the metal roof. Your hand glides smoothly over the patch you're placing over the stab wound. You flatten your palm to smooth it out as much as possible. His breathing is steady as it fans against your cheek. Your proximity to him right now may have been alarming if you didn't know him well. 

He stays still, watching you as he holds the hoodie up over his chest. His gaze brings goosebumps to the back of your neck, making your hairs stand up. You feel the need to break this awkward silence. 

"This scar looks like it was painful." You say ever so softly, your free hand coming down to the four inch scar on his abdomen. Your palm flattens and your thumb grazes it gently. 

"They were all painful." He says, a hint of tease in his tone. His voice has softened considerably. 

"Yeah? I wouldn't have guessed, sir." You say, eyes flashing up to meet his as your mouth pulls into a sweet smile again. 

"Simon. No need to be formal when we're alone." He says, followed by your name. It rolled off his tongue with ease–like it was the most natural thing for him to say. 

"Right. Simon–" you say softly. You're not pulling apart the last part of the bandage to stick it on top. "--how did you get this one?" You ask, pointing to another scar on one of his pecs. 

"In the Military. My first deployment. This was one of the first." He says. 

"I remember those days. I was eighteen when I joined the Marine Corp. Got a few scars myself. Though, they're more mental than anything." You say, bringing a hand up to tap the side of your head and smile. "Yours have more meaning behind them, I think." 

"Rightfully ugly things." He says, his eyes now following your hands as they work to cover the rest of his wound. 

"Not at all–" you say as you stop your movements. Your eyes meet his when he takes notice and lifts his head to see you. "--I find them endearing." 

His eyes narrow slightly as he watches you–indicating he's unsure of the meaning behind your statement. 

"I mean, they show your growth…as a man. You had to overcome each one of these–" you say as you move to continue wrapping his wound. "--they're all testaments to how strong you are. Mentally and physically. I don't find them ugly in the slightest." 

Your hand stops moving as you've finally finished patching his wound. Standing up straight, you bring your eyes back to his. He slowly releases his hoodie to let it drop back down, but his eyes never once leave yours. He almost seems dumbfounded–at a loss for words. He just stares at you for a few moments before speaking. 

"I don't understand." He says, almost a whisper. 

"What's not to understand?" You ask. 

His hands are laying on his thighs, but his fists are clenching and unclenching. He doesn't speak, so you take this chance to elaborate. 

"Simon, I don't know much of your past. Well, anything about your past, really–" you say gently, your hands slowly glide up and test the waters, laying on top of his strong shoulders. "--I don't need to. I know the man you are now. Neither of us are perfect. But I do know that you're a good man, who will always have my back. That's all that matters." 

His eyes never leave yours as your hands slowly glide over from his shoulders, and up his neck to rest holding his strong jaw. 

"And I will always have yours. That's what being a team is all about."

You're holding his jaw gently; you can feel it clenching as he watches you through the skull mask. You're close to him now, closer than you have been. Your hips are slotted between his legs. His fingers reach out and softly graze the outside hem on your jeans–silently asking for permission. You glance down to his hands, before back up to his face and slowly nod. 

His large hands come out to flatten against the outside of your thighs, softly squeezing the flesh there as they glide up and over your hips. They rest there, just above your ass. His warmth sends chills down your spine as he pulls you closer, your chest almost touching his. His palms spread against your curves and his thumbs dig into your belly. 

"What's on your mind, sergeant?" Ghost asks, his voice barely above a whisper as your face inches closer to his. 

You continue holding his jaw, keeping him attentive to you and you alone. Your breath fans over his covered lips. Your thumbs start to rub small circles over the sharp bones under them. 

"I often think…" you trail off as your right thumb moves towards the center of his face--finding his bottom lip under the mask and pressing down. "...think about what your smile looks like. I reckon you're quite handsome." 

"Is that right?" His voice is low, now laced with something akin to longing. 

His hands give your hips a good squeeze, shuffling your lower half closer to his. His thighs trap you in their strength. 

"Mhm." You hum softly. 

You find yourself being bold again, thumbs leaving his lips to trail down his neck again. You locate the bottom of his mask and slip both thumbs under the hem. You stop momentarily, giving him ample time to stop you. Only, he doesn't. You can feel the moment his muscles tense and you hear his breath hitch. But his eyes never leave you, and neither do his hands. They squeeze you and pull you harder. 

As to not betray his trust, your eyes slowly flutter closed. Your thumbs slip under his mask completely and gingerly begin pulling up. You pull it up and over his lips. Along the way, you can feel the defined muscles of his neck–the large veins. His chin and jaw are prickly, most likely from a recent shave. You pull it up to sit just in the tip of his nose. Eager fingers return to his chin, thumb coming back to slide over his lower lip. It's full, and warm. Feels slightly damp, like he had just licked it. His breath is warm on your hand as you continue to feel him here. 

Your other fingers stretch to try and feel the back of his head, wanting to know if he has thick or coarse hair. Is it curly or straight? Blonde like his eyelashes or brown? 

His hands become impatient and begin sliding up your sides. In the process, he pulls the skin-tight undershirt out from under your pants. Cold air rushes through and touches the little part of your belly exposed. As his digits continue sliding up, they eventually curve out and up both of your arms until they meet at the base of your neck. His fingers dig into the skin there and start to gently pull you forward. 

In the shuffle, your hands slide down his chest and come to a rest on top of his biceps. The muscles flex under his hoodie as he pulls you forward. Your eyes stay closed as you feel his breath getting closer and closer to your face. 

"Tell me to stop." He whispers. It was hoarse, and deep. Laced with lust. 

You breathe out slowly, shaky and anxious. 

And when you don't, he kisses you. 

To say he just kisses you is a gross understatement to what the both of you start to share. Your entire body lights up, chills shooting down your spine like fireworks as he twists his head to the side and slowly licks your bottom lip. His lips are soft and giving. They flatten when they meet yours to cover as much ground as they can. You open your mouth, giving him full access to that wet cavern. Your mouth meets his again, more heated this time. His tongue slides inside your mouth with ease, shooting to fight and tackle yours in a fight for dominance. 

Your fingers start to dig into his biceps, and that elicits a grunt moan from the man kissing you. He continues kissing you, tongue exploring your mouth as his large hands start to slide down your body again. His right hand slides behind you to trace your back, and his left opts to take the front. He stops at your breast–giving it a firm squeeze when he gets it in his grasp. Your nipple hardens under his firm touch, a small whimper getting lost in his mouth as he explores your body. The hand on your back pulls you impossibly closer, pressing your much smaller body tight to his. 

He continues his assault on your breast for another minute or so, all while continuing to kiss you with a certain ferocity. His tongue leaves your mouth to lap up the saliva surrounding your lips and you erupt in shivers when the hand squeezing your breast starts to trail lower. He traces your curves until he reaches the metal of your belt buckle. His digits slowly begin to work at the buckle, setting the button on your jeans free once he's worked it open. He kisses you as he pulls the button open, his fingers grabbing hold of the zipper and slowly pulling it down. It feels like it takes him an eternity to work your jeans open, but your body buzzes with excitement when you hear the zipper coming down. 

He stops for a moment, continuing to kiss you as his hand rests there on the buckle of your jeans. You slide your hand back up to his shoulders and softly rub the muscles there, pulling a quiet whimper from his lips. Yes, a whimper. From Ghost. 

Fuck. If that doesn't get you wet, nothing will. But it does. In that moment, you feel the arousal start to ooze out of your cunt. You may have thought you started your period if you weren't sure it was because of him. You can't help but rub your thighs together when the pressure starts to become uncomfortable. Ghost takes notice of this and pulls away from you. His fingers begin to dance with the hem of your underwear. 

"Tell me to stop." He repeats against your lips, still barely above a whisper. You can feel his eyes burning into you, but yours are still closed.

The cool leather of his glove meets with your sensitive skin when you don't answer him. Slowly, achingly slowly, his fingers sink under your underwear to find what he wants so desperately right now. 

You whine when the leather touches your sensitive skin there, his fingers sink down through your folds to truly feel where you're warmest. His fingers glide easily through your arousal; the texture of his clove adds a bit more feeling to it.  

"Fuck." he curses against your lips as he continues to rub around your needy hole. 

He uses his fingers to collect your wetness and drags it up to that swollen bundle of nerves. He uses your own arousal to prepare you. His thumb begins to rub firm circles over your clit, causing you shudder and whimper in his arms. Your eyes squeeze shut harder, face heating up and turning red. Something you never thought he'd see—the freckles on your cheeks being revealed by the change in color on your face. Your fingers dig hard into his shoulders, holding on for what feels like dear life. 

It's been a decade since you've been with a man. It's not something you were particularly proud of, because nothing could quite scratch that itch like the touch of a man. But your job kept you busy, and you felt just fine pleasuring yourself. You were always an independent woman. But fuck. Fuck. His touch felt like fire. Like pure bliss. The way he continued to draw tight circles over your clit while his palm flattened on your cunt and two large fingers sunk into your wet heat. They were so big, so strong while they pumped you full. It wasn't long before he found that spot too–the spongy piece of heaven deep inside your core. 

Your head tumbles back on your shoulders, mouth falling open silently as his fingers work magic inside you. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your chest where it's open from the u-neck undershirt– peppering kisses on the warm skin there. Your hand involuntarily comes up to caress the back of his head. Such a sweet sentiment he does, while absolutely ruining your brief innocence with his fingers. You whimper and cry for him as he pumps and pumps and pumps. 

You let out one harsh breath, followed by a quiet but sweet whimper– and out tumbles his name. 

Simon. 

That's all it takes to break him. He huffs a hard breath against your chest and kisses the skin one more time before pulling back, taking the hand out of your pants with him. 

You gasp at the lack of contact. You almost open your eyes in the shuffle but as if he knew what was going to happen, his hand comes up to cover your eyes. 

"Lay down. Now." He orders. 

He guides you back a few steps, hand still over your eyes. You feel him stand, and he brings a hand to your shoulder to guide you back towards the mattress. Your legs hit the edge and cause you to fall to your back. His hand leaves your face, but you obediently keep them closed for him. He shuffles a bit before his hands are on you again, slipping your combat boots off one at a time. Then his hands are on your waist, pulling your jeans and underwear down in one swoop. Involuntarily, your hands shoot down to cover your core and you hear him grunt. 

"Don't hide from me, sergeant." He says in the deep english tone. 

His hands meet yours and wrap around them, slowly pulling them off your weeping cunt. A breath leaves his mouth harshly when you're revealed to him. He kneels instantly, large hands flattening against the inside of your thighs, at the apex of your legs and waist. On each side of where he just had his fingers deep. His hot breath fans against your sex. 

"Fucking perfect." He says as he fits himself between your legs. His hands slide from the top, all the way to your calves to pull them up and over his shoulders. 

You shudder in anticipation, back arching slightly in presentation. Ghost takes notice. 

"Dirty girl." He praises 

That's the last thing he says before he dives in. His mouth closes over your swollen clit, tongue circling you in a delicious dance. Your back immediately arches even more, muscles tensing down below. His tongue is smooth as it glides so elegantly over that center of pleasure. He moans into you, drinking the taste of you in. The top half of his face is still covered, only letting the bottom half of his face free so he can eat you out like this. 

Your hands desperately search for purchase. They start by clenching the bedsheets, before twitching hard and moving to lay on your tummy. His hands find yours quickly and he presses down, anchoring your much smaller hands under his to your tummy. His fingers thread through yours and give a reassuring squeeze. It's odd. You'd never think of him as the gentle type. But he always seemed to surprise you. 

Your hands start to close on his head, holding him still right where you want him. Anxious fingers gripping the mask and holding him down. He moans again, the vile wet sounds of his dirty act echoing through the room as he pulls you closer to an orgasm. His hands hold you steady as he pushes his face in deeper, completely enveloping his face in you. His cock grows achingly hard in his jeans, throbbing to be set free. One of his hands leaves yours to come down and insert two large fingers in yet again. 

Something white and hot starts to stir in your lower belly. Like a thread being pulled tight on each end, ready to snap at any given moment. Your cunt starts to clench impossibly tight around Ghost's fingers and he moans into you yet again.

"Atta girl. I can feel it. Give me a good one." He encourages through licks. 

Fuck, his voice. The tone and the accent–they do something to you. His voice repeats in the back of your mind as your muscles tense all at once. A hoarse whimper leaves your lips as he nibbles down on your little clit, cunt pulling tight and hot as the thread finally snaps and he gets what he asked for. You cum all over his face, body convulsing from the over stimulation as he continues to suck on you through the pulses. Your fingers lock dead in his mask–you think you can feel his hair. It's thick. 

He groans into you, his voice vibrating your lower body as he slows his pace and inevitably decides to take pity on you and stop. 

You feel his mouth leave your cunt as you struggle to catch your breath. His hands leave you too. Slightly concerned, you start to sit up. Your eyes are still closed. His hands stop you from standing up. 

"Bloody delicious you are, sweet girl." 

His hand caresses your jaw, and you hear him fumbling with his belt buckle, followed by the sound of his zipper coming down. 

"Open." 

Your eyes flutter open and you glance up at him standing tall over you. His mask is pulled back down to conceal his mouth. You lock eyes with him and stare him down as he begins to pull his cock out of his jeans. You keep your eyes on him until he breaks contact for a moment. He glances down towards his cock and then back at you. You take the hint and slowly lower your gaze until you meet his cock in all its glory. He's big–covered in veins. His tip is red and smeared with pre-cum. Gods, you got him this wound up? 

"You want this?" He asks. 

You don't have to answer him. The lustful look in your eyes as you glance back up at him is enough to make his cock jump. He growls low in his throat. 

"Turn around. Bend over." 

Not having to be told twice, you do as you're told. You stand and turn so your back is facing him. You bend down, revealing your cunt from behind as you find your place bent over the bed for him. His massive form stalks behind you–like you're his prey. Just waiting to be captured. His macho, mean, attitude has always sent chills down your spine. This situation was no different. 

His hand finds your waist, gripping on your side as his other holds his heavy cock up to position it at your entrance. While he rubs the head of his cock through your slick to prepare it, the hand holding your waist moves to the center of your lower back and his palm flattens. He pushes down, forcing you to arch in presentation for him. He curses under his breath. Fucking perfect. Beautiful little cunt. 

His heavy boots shuffle closer as the head of his cock begins to breach your tight hole. Your breath catches at the sudden intrusion. The hand on your lower back holds you steady as he starts pushing forward until he's fully sheathed inside you. You let a moan slip when the hand on your back starts to rub up and down you slowly, almost in a comforting manner. 

"Fuck." He groans out when he bottoms out. 

He starts with deep thrusts, getting your cervix used to the invasion. Your knees begin to buckle. No need to worry though. His hands both move to either side of your waist to hold you up as he begins to thrust a little faster–pulling out farther and re-sheathing himself. His back straightens and his head falls back in pleasure as soft groans come from under the mask. Your moans join him as the wet sounds of your combined arousal fills the room. 

You moan sweetly–which teases him. A strong, capable woman like yourself reduced to a whimpering mess under her Lieutenant. It spurs him on and makes him needy. 

He starts thrusting at a more harsh pace now. His hips collide with yours as the bed rattles on its old, dilapidated frame. The metal digging into the wooden floor. His hands squeeze your hips tight and he pulls you back onto him in time with his own thrusts. 

"Insatiable woman. Drive me mad with this body." He grunts as his hips slam into yours. 

"Simon–" you whimper out, cut off by a particularly sharp thrust. 

"You--you know what you do to me, woman?" He starts between harsh breaths as he pounds into you. "Can't keep my eyes off you. You're a goddamn distraction–" he continues to moan loudly, not caring if anyone may hear. "--walk around in those tight ass jeans….n'that low cut shirt. You do it on purpose, don't you?" 

"M's-sorry sir–" you manage to whimper as he continues to pound into you. 

"The fuck you are." He says before another hard thrust. His grunts, leaning forward to grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back. 

The same sensation from earlier starts to boil over again. The thread is pulled tight once more, ready to snap at any given moment as he continues to hammer into the sensitive spot inside you. His breathing is heavy, grunting loudly in your ear as pounds down into you. You start to tighten around him once more and once again, he takes notice right away. 

"Already, sweet girl? Can you give me another good one?" 

You whimper his name. 

"Words." 

"Yes." You moan. 

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Simon."

"Good fucking girl." 

He relases your hair and stands up straight, anchoring down on your hips and letting absolutely fucking loose. He starts pounding into you ruthlessly. His hips jackhammering into yours and rendering you speechless. His harsh thrusts steal the air from your lungs. All you can do is lay there, drool like a dog and take his cock the way he needs to give it to you. 

Your orgasm snaps through you and burns like wildfire. Your body rocks violently back against his and he groans when you start to clench around him.

This was unlike any experience you've ever had. It was hard for any of your past partners to get you off, period. Ghost just made you cum twice. And violently. 

"Fuck. Where do you want it?" He asks. 

It takes you a few hard thrusts to try and speak–trying to gain your composure and suck some air back in your lungs to speak. 

"In-inside–please–" you manage to moan. 

For the first time this evening, his movements falter. He seems unsure as he tries to regain his rhythm. 

"That's–no, no I can't….you'll…" he grunts as he continues to rut into you.

"Safe. I-I promise." You whimper out. "Wanna feel you."

"Fuuuuck." He groans out, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his release. His hands come up to grab your shoulders, anchoring down as he continues fucking your raw. 

"Don't move. Don't fucking move, sweet girl. Gonna--gonna fill you up, make you mine." 

"Simon--" you whimper out. 

That last whimper is what seems to take him over edge. He groans your name one last time before his hips bottom out again and come to a screeching hault. You feel his cock start to throb before the warmth of his cum begins filling you. He shoots what feel like endless streams of his while juices inside until it starts overflowing and running down your thighs. You lay there on your stomach trying to catch your breath. Not long after, you hear the heaving mess of a man who just rearranged you collapse to his knees behind you. You hear him turn to sit on hid ass, shifting to lean up against the bed. 

You lay there exhausted, listening to the sounds of his labored breathing. You're too worn out to move, so you opt to stay where you are. Not even caring what a mess you look like. 

After a few minutes you feel yourself beginning to drift off to sleep. The exhaustion is taking over. It gets quiet after a few more minutes and you feel completely relaxed. You're so out of it, you don't notice Ghost getting up from his spot on the floor. 

You don't feel him softly cleaning you with one of his extra shirts. 

You don't feel him start to re-dress you. 

And you don't feel him lay you down on the bed, when he climbs in behind you and wraps his arms around you. 

And in the morning, it suprises you when he asks you about your time in the United States Marine Corps. 

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #smut #Egon

[diluclover300]

Just One Week (10)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

also on my ao3: diluclover300

CHAPTER INDEX:

I H8 U

My Kinda Fun

Balance

{S] Awake

Eggs and Rice

Wait, but I'm broke

Couple's Discount

Waffles + Cream

Karaoke Night

KFC

CHAPTER 10: KFC

...

If objects could speak, you'd interview the skyscrapers of New York and Hong Kong with only one question in mind - "How does it feel to be so tall?"

You can now confidentially answer that for yourself - "It feels great."

Your tongue already gave yourself away earlier, but you meant every word in that short sentence. Gojo Satoru has grown a lot more than you remember. It was no illusion, nor was it a trick deceiving your own two eyes. Those ripples of fabric, clinging onto each defined, humanly shaped bulge are muscle. You were resting against the very product of his blood, sweat, and tears, some of which you can easily recognize, and others who turn out to be complete strangers. Unfamiliarity overtakes you. 

"You're really fuckin' tall." You re-tighten your arms around his neck, trying to strangle an answer out of him. Perhaps that was your oddly creative imagination. 

"I-" He lifts his neck up, swallowing at the pressure. You're strong. "I've always been tall." 

"I guess so." You roll your eyes, slumping against his rather sturdy back. He's the strongest of them all, you justify your action, agreeing with how you put a little extra weight on his shoulder. It'll be his little workout. "Yeah, I guess so." 

You hate it, being puny and short to the all-mighty Gojo Satoru, but a threat to anyone below that haughty title. You're not a weak little thing, heck, if they forced you back into jujutsu society, you'd punt his ass real good. You'd be the strongest, at the very tip of that tall iceberg. 

"I don't have any friends." You hum out, scanning your surroundings like a watchtower. "Not a single one." 

This is the city, all right, engulfed in cold, turbulous winds from the bay area as the crickets sing for the nightlife. The countless buildings of restaurants, bars, and nameless shops come and go at their convenience, not bothering to say a little farewell before they depart ways. It's cruel.

"You don't?" Satoru locks his arms over and under your legs, pushing them further up his sides. You keep moving. "What about Nanami?"

Nanami Kento. The name takes you back, it used to fill you up with hope, and the very mention had you oozing with respect. 

"This again?" You scowl, securing your chin onto his shoulder. It's warm there. "Well, y'know, I talked to him, but..."

You stop with another mindless, light hum, slowly resting your eyes against the light breeze when the lights of the city begin to blind you. You feel tall, so free that you might as well be escaping the cage that is gravity. You're flying and the wind glides along your humble wings, keeping you afloat. 

"...but?" He presses the matter further, sluggish in his steps and breaths slower when you rest in the crook of his neck without warning. It's another problem he won't ever get to solving, not because he can't - he just doesn't find the need to. 

"..b-u-t..." You sing each letter to yourself, yearning for another pre-written lyric to hover in the sky among the many stars as you grasp onto a sleek microphone. Your voice would be the very subject of conversation. 

You liked that conversation a lot more than you anticipated, a lot more than you'd like to admit. Oh, how the instruments danced and twinkled along your timbre. How time slowed, how each minute mattered as much as the last. 

You miss it already. 

"... I didn't want him- er, no, me... yeah, me, to get the wrong idea." You smile, tired as your cheeks sting. You're still as drunk as ever. The static of your brain is fulfilling. 

"Whaddya mean?" Satoru looks up to the stars, air blowing out from his lips. There's a slight white fog that dissipates. 

You think the answer is pretty straightforward. 

"...uh... because I liked him? Yeah, I did." You say, confirming your doubts with a small nod. "He was cool, so I didn't wanna-"

"It's not bad to be alone." The answer leaves him restless. 

"I don't know 'bout that 'cause I hate it a little bit." You whisper, elbows pressing into his shoulders. They are as steady as bricks and as wide as the universe. "... but Nanami, he-"

"You said he was miserable." 

Satoru bites his tongue, impulsive with both his words and thoughts. The reek of sake fogs his patience, his rationality. His tone grows tenser with each mention of Nanami Kento, curiosity killing the cat indeed. 

You think about it, and the accusation is the truest, most honest thing he's said all day. You called him miserable, you're guilty as charged. 

"Yeah, well, yeah... I did." You confirm, guilt swarming your wings. "I said that, didn't I?"

Nanami Kento. You respected him. The feeling wasn't as simple as envy, no, it was a bit more than that - you admired him, really. He was an honest man, simple, hard-working, true to his words. If you weren't the same age as him then you'd at least pray that he was your senior at some point in your life. He was someone to look up to. Even so, you never talked much.

Still, the feeling was present, it became undeniable that you found his presence calming like the soft embers of a campfire. 

"I'm wrong, maybe." You dwell on it, fighting the urge to doze off on his shoulder. "He, uh, I dunno, the last time I reached out to him, he looked..."

You try to sketch it out on your mental canvas with quick, fading strokes. The weak embers that kept you shivering, trembling against the otherwise unnoticeable breeze. Those slightly hollowed out cheeks, his small wrinkles, and his eyes. The core was pitted. 

"Yeah, he looked real miserable." 

Once you sensed it, his unease, your admiration began to chip away, the flames coaxed themselves. Nanami Kento was no longer the calm, composed man you knew him as. He too had changed. 

"I didn't- hah, he's really unbelievable, but..."

It was like looking into a mirror. 

"...but?" Satoru doesn't know whether he resents the sake anymore, whether he's grown fond of the smell or sick of it. Your words, some are warm and others hurt more than the last.

"I was, no, I am the same, haha..." You sleepily chuckle. "I was like, hey, he's fuckin' handsome, but I really can't-"

"You really can't." He finishes, fingers drilling into your legs as he repositions you. His steps start to sway to the rhythm of his uneven breaths. "You can't." 

"Well, yeah." You shrug, deciding that was it. "I never did."

The pictures, all the memories blur together. What drew out your brave conclusion, that pitiful comparison was not your admiration, nor his calm demeanor. You came to it after you ran into him on a busy Friday afternoon on the subway, job hunting in Tokyo. 

Nanami Kento, who once held his head up high succumbed to the likes of sheep. That white fur shielded him, he blended in well without putting up a fight. He accepted it. 

He was not who you recalled from years ago. The embers were put out, every single one of them replaced with fur as pale as the moonlight, a foreign tongue, and strange horns.  

And that was all there was to it - Kento Nanami was miserable. Your admiration was in vain, you left Friday disillusioned, numb to the joys of the weekend. 

After that dose of reality, you never ran into him again. Because seeing the man that you so hoped to serve as an anchor, for his flames to re-kindle and hold you tightly... they instead left you with your head hung low. 

You never ran into him again and moved to Osaka quietly, not leaving a single trace behind. You knew it was unfair to cut your conversation short, to run away as soon as those two doors slid open, but you did it anyways. It was unfair that you felt betrayed, let down by your own delusions. 

Nanami Kento was no longer a jujutsu sorcerer, and you grew afraid of your own reflection. That was all there was to it. 

"How is it?" You stretch out your fingers, clutching onto his shoulders. It's secure. Satoru flinches in between his steps, snapping his head to you.

"How is what?" 

"Osaka. Do you like it?"

His chest relaxes, the subject abruptly changed. The breeze feels light. The weight on his shoulders is even better, as light as a feather. As soft as one too. 

"All of a sudden?" 

You nod, chin rubbing against the fabric of his shirt as you do. 

He hasn't given it much thought, not until now. He looks around him, then up at the moon, and down at the sidewalk. It's the city, all right, with lights flashing down each block, taxis rushing through the roads as they haul strangers in and out. 

He thinks it's typical, not much different from what he sees back home, until his eyes land on you. The extra weight on his shoulder that reeks of alcohol, cozying up on his shoulder, it's arms wrapped around him.  

He looks again at the city, how the nightlife decorates the aged sidewalks, how the lights glimmer against each other. The amount of smiles, the warm ambience surrounding all these strangers as they roam the roads, crossing each sidewalk with small laughs. 

"I like it. Osaka is-" 

"Nah. I don't." You object, grabbing his lips with your cold fingers as you fumble around with the skin, twisting and turning. "I fuckin' hate this place." 

"Hey-" 

"Let me finish, moron." You tunnel his lips in your fist, leaving them with a firm smack. "It's suffocating, there's so many people! It's like they release swarms of 'em in the morning and hide 'em in the night."

"Of course you hate it." He jerks his head away, grumbling to himself when you make it harder from him to walk. You swerve him to the left, then the right, and finally, to the very middle of the sidewalk - where he belongs.

"Do you like anything?" 

"I liked Nanami-"

What an unsatisfactory answer. 

His elbow smacks onto the crosswalk call button with a slight grunt. "Not anymore." That revelation stands irrelevant as long as he's here. It always will. 

"That's true."

You examine the spit coating your fingers, harshly wiping it down on his back. They were soft, easy to squeeze and mold in your grasp. 

"Then, I dunno." You inhale, pushing your fingertips into his shoulders, re-balancing yourself in his hold. "Sorry, I just hate-"

"I know." He crosses after looking down both sides of the road. The words are tattooed onto your tongue, the ink of it glazed with your saliva. "You hate everything." 

The crickets fill in the silence, the sound of tackling leaves accompanying nature's beat. Was Osaka always this peaceful? Maybe that was the sake warping your perception, you were just seeing the population unwinding in both numbers and intensity. They all walked with leisure, holding hands and cracking up half-assed jokes. 

"Hey, Satoru, you..." You laugh, licking your lips moist as you take in the scenery. "I like some things a little bit."

"Yeah?" He replies, teeth digging into the flesh of his cheek. Carrying you is not as easy as he makes it out to be, not when your lips continue to brush against his neck with each word you say, with each move he takes. Unintentionally, he tells himself. You're drunk. "Like what?"

The wet run of your tongue wakes your appetite, the fact that you drank on an empty stomach growing more apparent with the smell of food lingering in the air. You're craving something that you don't hate. 

"I like fried chicken." You suggest, your body giving yourself away for the second time when your stomach rumbles.

"Okay." He takes a left at the mention, luck on his side when he's met with a familiar sign just a couple of feet away. You're allowed to like this. This is relevant as far as he's concerned. 

"Satoru, I'm hungry." You whine, burying your face into the crook of his neck when your stomach compresses against itself. "Feed me-"

"I get it." His breath hitches, briefly squeezing his eyes shut. You're close. "I'm taking you to KFC."

You whine a little more before rubbing your brows against his shoulder, itchy as the wind messes with your hair. 

"Stop moving." 

"M'kay." You don't register his words, sliding your face down and up his back. Did a mosquito bite you on your face? You're unusually itchy, the sensation making you feel warm and tingly. You do it again. 

"I told you to stop."

"Sorry."

The small jingle of the door catches your attention. You look up only for the sweet smell of meat to fill your nostrils, stomach contracting at the mouth-watering wafts of fast-food filled air.

Then you turn to Satoru, who gently lowers you onto a nearby seat. "Let go."

You comply, unraveling your arms from his neck as heaps of shopping bags occupy your sides. You're tired. 

"Don't move, okay?" He takes hold of your shoulders, placing you upright against the seat when your limpness gets the best of you.  

"Got it." You nod, eyes half-lidded as you pat yourself awake, skin heavy and sluggish. "I won't move an inch."

"Good. Wait for me, okay?" 

"O-k-a-y." You start to slouch, eyelids dragging further down your vision. "I'm waiting." 

"Okay." He nods, slipping his hands away to rub his own skin. His neck burns unexpectedly, skin flaring up the more he wonders about it's cause.

Maybe it's best for it to be an afterthought, a mere problem that he'll deal with later, without you in the picture. 

You try not to move much, staying true to your word as you watch him order. It's hard to hear, especially over the blaring music, so you focus on his expression instead. He's smiling just as he did in front of the waitress at the waffle shop, a strange almost sunlight like aura beaming from the action. After a while of exchanging sticky, gooey looks and words, he pulls out that handy card of his, pitch black as it shines against the ceiling lights. 

Satoru laughs again once he's given his receipt, giving the girl at the register a light wave when she hands him a tray of food. She giggles like a schoolgirl. 

"Here." Wow. It's like his personality from earlier sheds off like the scales of a snake, replaced with such an easy-going ring that you're sure of it now. 

"You're a flirt." You deduce, crossing your arms with a sneer as he places the bucket of fried chicken in front of you.

"Hm?" He doesn't catch that, scooting his chair towards you when you lazily pick a leg out of the batch. "Did you say something?"

You rip off a bite, chewing with small grumbles. You can't believe you're associated with some kind of modern-day playboy. It's embarrassing.

"It's tasty, isn't it?" He reaches over for the packet of ketchup, peeling off the wrapper before placing it next to you. 

You grumble again, a small 'thanks' as you scoop out a glob onto your half-eaten piece of chicken. Fast food tastes much better when you're not the one paying for it. You bet it'd be more worth it with a couple of beers, but you're convinced Satoru won't entertain your fantasies. 

"You're making a mess..." He shakes his head, pulling the food away from your face as he snatches a napkin from the tray. "Come here." 

You don't mean to, but your eyes meet with the cashier at the register. You clear your throat, thickly swallowing. The creak of your chair follows. 

"Okay."

You scoot closer, and he holds your chin tightly, clicking his tongue in disapproval as he wipes your lips clean. His fingers push through the thin, frail paper, poking at the skin. 

You lied to yourself, haven't you? This was your dilemma, hidden in plain sight. Was it a lie? Was this truly deceit? 

Perhaps you feigned ignorance. 

"Satoru, why do you just do that with every girl you meet?" You scoot away, using the napkin on your own now. "It's weird."

"Huh? What does that-" 

"The waffle shop, like, you, ugh..." You groan, the napkin falling onto the table as you try to put it into words, tapping at your temples. "...You just kept flirting with her and stuff, like you kept smiling like an idiot, and... uh, what else?" 

You don't know how else to put it, chewing on another piece of meat to make up for your lack of clarity. You want another drink. 

"So what?" He grabs another packet, peeling it open. "You jealous?"

"You wish I was." You say in-between bites, rolling your eyes at the very suggestion. There goes another leg, a victim to your roaring appetite. "Keeping dreamin', 'cause it's never happenin'."

Your eyes meet with the poor girl at the register again and she quickly hides behind the walls of the kitchen. You feel bad. 

"Look, she's looking over here because you kept flirting with her." You take the ketchup from his hand, biting off another piece. "It's fuckin' annoying."

Satoru doesn't know whether to laugh or apologize. He doesn't know why he feels the need to do the latter either. Whoever he flirts with should never concern you. 

"Oh, come on, just ignore her." He betrays himself, sticking a straw between your lips when you frown. You reluctantly sip. "I won't do it again. I'm sorry." 

You gulp, the water washing down the heavy breading of the chicken. He presses the cup further into your hold, pulling off his glasses at the opportunity. They clatter onto the tabletop, and your eyes travel to the shades before his fingers.

Satoru rubs his eyes, sighing to himself. "You're killing me." 

You quirk a brow, swallowing another sip of water before dishing out a chicken leg from the bucket. You were killing the Gojo Satoru? The high and mighty jujutsu sorcerer of the modern age? That was unheard of. 

Yeah, right. 

"You should go back, y'know?" Your voice is muffled as you eat. Some crumbs litter your lap. "They need you to kick ass and shit."

"Am I the only sorcerer in Japan?" He laughs, pinching the bridge of his nose. The red-mark etched into his skin stings, a reminder of why he abandoned the flashy disguise in the first place. "They'll be fine without me." 

You exhale deeply, swallowing another piece down your throat. That was easy for him to say, but no one else would ever agree. Gojo Satoru keeps this country afloat, he is the balance between both good and evil. Without him, you'd be as good as dead. Everyone would. 

"You're a damn lucky bastard, all strong and shit." You look into the empty bucket filled with bare chicken bones. "You could kill me-"

"You talk too much." 

"Yeah, anyway, I don't get it." You lazily cradle the bucket in your lap, avoiding his bare gaze. "Why did you come here? It's been five years." 

Satoru reminds himself that he shouldn't talk back, that there was no sense in arguing when you were anything but sober. 

"You finally remembered I existed or something?"

"I already told you." He looks over to you and then the bucket, grease dampening the flimsy carboard. 

"It's not like you missed me, Satoru." Your fingers poke at the rims of the bucket, dryly laughing to yourself as you do. 

"I did." He argues, he betrays himself once more, unable to bare the possibility of a misunderstanding. "I missed you." 

"There you go again." You tut, shaking your head when the sturdy paper dents against the pressure of your thumbs. "You're lying."  

"When did I lie?" 

Your eyes don't meet his, nails fumbling with the red label of the bucket. There are multiple instances today, some significant and some not so much. You're reminded of the past, memories tracing over the irrelevant, insignificant present as you speak. 

"Your stupid jacket. The lady at the store said-"

"She told you it was mine?"

You rip a piece of the label off, picking at the mascot. The air conditioner blows onto your shoulders, and the almost-sheer fabric of your button up shudders. 

"I'm cold." You groan, hands warming up your forearms. 

Satoru itches his eyes once more, picking up the scraps of paper that fly onto his lap. 

"Then wear my jacket." He offers, polishing the lens of his glasses with the fibers of his shirt. "I don't need it."

Your eyes meet with the small pull of the fabric, giving you a bit of leeway to the skin underneath. It peeks at you first, baiting your vision. Your shoulders slump, mind clearly out of touch when the thought escapes you for the second time tonight.   

"You've grown." When did he get a six-pack? Satoru was always scrawny. "It's unfair." 

He scrubs at his glasses, lightly shaking his head to himself when another smear appears. 

"You say something?" The music must have covered you up, the crevices of muscles along his stomach taunting. 

Who is the liar?

"I said, I dunno where the jacket is." You are unsure now. 

"Look for it then." The shirt snaps back on, and now it becomes obvious how tight the cloth truly is. You notice more cracks, more ripples running down his torso. 

The radio carries on conversation, a symphony of guitar strums, snare beats, and vocals allowing for comfortable silence. 

"Do it for me." 

Satoru does one last pick at his eyelashes, catching a loose hair before it falls to the ground. 

His obedience is unspoken, yet determined the very moment you decide to order him around. He has no choice, you have already dictated his will. There is nothing he can achieve out of an argument except for wasted time, so he places those troublesome glasses back on, fishing through the several bags. It isn't long before he reels in a fine fish, also known as his jacket. 

"Give me your arm." 

"Why?" You scoot back in your seat. He holds up the jacket by the collar, shaking it as if his goal was to entice you. 

"Please."

"Okay." You're intrigued. 

His other hand reels out another fish from the sea when the legs of your chair screech against the tiles. Satoru thinks it's a great catch he's made when the distance between the both of you narrows. A definite rare find. 

You stick one arm out after the other, the oily bucket of chicken bones now discarded on the table. The label of a torn up Colonel Sanders sways in the air before landing on the floor.  

"Turn around." 

You twist in your chair, firmly and quickly put into place with the hold of his fingers.

"This good?" He drapes the rest of the fabric over you until it sits on your shoulders evenly, adjusting the collar around your neck. His breath tickles your neck.

"Yeah." You turn back around, catching a whiff of cologne. The forest is near, somewhere over here. "Thanks."

The velvet lining seeps through your thin shirt and reaches for your skin. You're held in it's warm embrace, back easing against the seat. 

"Tired." Your eyelids lower, the abnormally large jacket bunching around your arms. He's all grown-up now, just like you have, but way taller, way bigger than you initially thought. He really owns his title, wears it like a suit. You don't have one. 

Satoru tries to speak. You beat him to it, arms crossed in your rest. 

"Everythin' hurts." Your fingers loosen up around your elbows, knees straightening out underneath the table. "My body, my mind, fuck - even my soul hurts."

He thinks to reply, mind scrambling for a solution. Satoru should fix you. He should reach out and grab your worries, hold them tightly and choke them all in the heart of his fist. What he should do is take responsibility, even if he has failed the test of time. 

"Even then, I'm still talkin' like an idiot." The sentences spill out, meaningless chatter only to garner an ounce of pity. "I'm drunk, right?"

"Yeah." His voice completely ceases, already drowned by the bass of the restaurant speakers. 

When would the solution occur to him? No, the wonder of, the fear of uncertainty should not exist. You were a unique problem, not impossible. A problem that only catered to him, a problem that only concerned him. No one else could come close, no one could ever involve themselves with this special problem.

No one could ever lock fingers with the intricacies of your body, your mind, fuck - even your soul. Naturally, Satoru should know everything, all the details, all the nooks and crannies of you. 

"Yeah, I am." That is just another hollow chuckle down the drain, one he is yet to grow used to. "Alcohol-"

Your smear your palm down the length of your face, eyelids pulled down. 

"Alcohol makes me crave food, but I..." You tip your head back. "... Ah, I don't know, but I really hate eating."

Stop that. Don't say that. Please.

"Nothing tastes as good as it looks anymore, Satoru." You toss out another soulless laugh, eyes completely shutting at the confession. "I'm getting old."

Stop. Don't tell him that.

The person he so remembers shatters right before his very eyes, glass shards dancing beneath his feet. The person he treasured in his memories, oh, that girl he can't get rid of no matter how much her resent grows as the days shrink and pass by. She always ate well, she slept fulfilled with her heart happy, stomach full. She always did. 

You don't. Who are you? What was she? 

"Who was it?" Satoru feels like his throat opens forcibly, voice coming out faint and weak. 

You shove a finger into your chest, over and over until the motion slows and finally stills. 

"Who-"

"Me." It lands, puncturing your chest. You sigh. "It's all because of me." 

His fingers clench in his lap. You aren't her. What you are is the culprit. 

"Yeah, I think that's it. It's me." Your chest draws in a short breath, brows tackling one another. Your words are mixing up terribly, pouring out lukewarm. It's frustrating to hear your tongue give up.

"I'm the problem." You open your eyes, blinded by the yellow ceiling lights. You blink. "I realized that when-"

"You should stop."

"Ah, should I?" You groggily turn over, recovering your vision to make out his figure. Satoru gathers up the mess you made, all the scraps and napkins dumped into the bucket. That too is soon tossed into the trash.

"Why?" 

Each bag beside you escapes to his arms, scurrying from the floor and sneaking into his wrists. 

"You'll regret it tomorrow." You feel a tug at your chair, drawing you away from the table. 

"Ah."

Do it all for tomorrow, but never do it for today. This was what you were told. 

The world seems to revolve around the future despite existing through the present. The days, the weeks, the months, the years - they all stretch into the ambiguous blanket of "tomorrow".

Put it off for tomorrow, but never do it today. This is what you followed. 

"... Then you'll hate me even more tomorrow, right?" He whispers over his shoulder, back as familiar as it is wide. Your eyes blur into a lengthy blink. 

You do everything for tomorrow. Today is already a part of your past. Your present is lost time, to forever be shunned away by your selfish, never-ending future. 

"I..." You feel your words sharpen, suddenly vehement. "I'll hate you."

As if pure instinct, your arms sling around the comfort of his shoulders, letting out a short huff of air when your wings allow you to float. You're flying. 

"I know." His arms bind with your legs, the hold tighter than, stronger than any of his courage. Was it ever possible for him to muster any of it? "Me too-"

"I hate you more than yesterday, and..." You take in a deep breath, the jingle of the door signifying your departure. "...even less than tomorrow, yeah. I think that's..." 

You lose track of your thoughts, eyes sluggish as the crickets chirp and the stars shine. Osaka is peaceful, the moon wraps around you and holds you tightly. 

"Me too." He releases the postponed beat of his heart, his hands re-catching your thighs.

You groan at the sudden disturbance, nose pressed against his neck. The smell of fried chicken is soon replaced with the night, dewy and coastal air grazing the hairs of your neck. 

"Don't do it, Satoru." Your words stroke his neck, face nodding off in the very crook. "Don't take me home." 

He halts. 

"Do you hate it there?" 

The exhaust flees, it runs off as your sore muscles unclench. The day slowly ends, the hours are sewn together, and before you know it, your future is set in stone. Tomorrow would be here. 

"Y...yeah." Your eyelashes bind together, his resumed steps lulling, nurturing. "I hate it."

That wasn't her, not a single hint of it was. That was all you, every single bit of it. Satoru can identify it now - his special, unique problem, exclusive to only him. 

When the night settles and the stars occupy the stretching sky is when he begins to reflect on the question he shrugged off for weeks. 

The strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the modern age, who has come to Osaka with the illusion of a vacation has deceived himself. His own mind, his own body, his own soul is a traitor.

Gojo Satoru has a goal. He came here with a purpose. 

Though light in his movement, each step continues to drag on when your breath calms and unwinds against him. The shore is finally at rest, the waves stuck in a mediocre slosh, and there is a clear divide with the sand. At last, the seagulls too can hide away, they can too rest after soaring through unruly paces. There once was unrest in that shore, the sand dampened with each trashing, merciless, and unwarranted wave. 

In that chaos, in that state of unrest was when he realized this goal of his. The reason as to why he holds you so close, so tightly despite the long and hard years in-between. The reason as to why he abandons his God-given, divine right of protecting the weak, the helpless for seven nights and seven days. 

It was to send her off with a fine farewell, and for Gojo Satoru, the strong, to mend you, the weak. It was for him to solve you, to fix you until the shores could regulate themselves. 

"I'm sorry." This whisper, broken yet rooted in his resolve is only a fraction of his sincerity. It is only the beginning of it all. "I think I'm going to be selfish from now on."

That night, the first out of the eventful seven, Satoru vowed. 

He lifted the veil. 

...

see you next chapter!!!

#ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #fanfic #archive of our own #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #friends to lovers #romance #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #gojo saturo #jjk satoru #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #y/n #reader insert #x y/n

[tyrantisterror]

Well gang, it's Walpurgisnacht, a time when the veil is thin and the supernatural powers are at their strongest. That also means it's the two-year anniversary of the publication of the first Wizard School Mysteries book. I had hoped to have a third out by now but life has been... well, it's been life, and things are progressing if at a slower pace than desired, that's how it goes.

ANYWAY! To keep with the faith and tide over the five or so of my followers who are actually looking forward to a third one of these (and five more after it at some point), I thought I'd share something special: the Wizard School Mysteries Freshmen Year soundtrack! Yes, like ATOM and No Sympathies before it, I've made a soundtrack for Wizard School Mysteries. It's not fully complete, mind you - this is the biggest writing project I've undertaken so far, and things are constantly developing, but the parts of it that cover the first three books are more or less done - and today, I'm sharing the first two with you, i.e. the songs that cover the freshmen year of my eight meddlesome youths.

As with the previous books, I've made a youtube playlist of the songs involved, and will post the tracklist below along with what each track corresponds to in the books. So if this kind of thing interests you, dive in after the cut!

Book 1: The Meddlesome Youths

Prologue: He's Leaving Home - She's Leaving Home by The Beatles, which is a song about a runaway teenager escaping a family that refused to acknowledge their pain. This is, obviously, a song for James Chaucer.

Chapter 1: The Treadscar Path - We Are Going to be Friends by The White Stripes. This song's about kids going to school for the first time and making friends, and while the protagonists of the song are much younger than our Meddlesome Youths, I still feel it captures the spirit of the first meeting of James, Ivan, and Gretchen.

Chapter 2: Elemental Orientation - Pursuing My True Self from Persona 4. The Persona games are the biggest influence on Wizard School Mysteries out of all its inspirations, and the opening theme for Persona 4 to this day screams "teenage sleuths diving into a mystery" to me when I hear it, which made it the perfect song for our introduction to the AAAM.

Chapter 3: Academics and Absences - Beneath the Mask -rain- from Persona 5. Second verse same as the first where Persona and WSM goes. I consider this another James Chaucer theme, both lyrically and in its general vibe, and the "rain" version's specifically moodier, more contemplative arrangement really suits where his head is at during this chapter of the book, as James is exposed to the faults in the AAAM and how it's failing some of its students.

Chapter 4: Of Chariots and Fire - She's Actual Size by They Might Be Giants. This is a Margot theme, and also kind of a James theme since it fits his view of her really well.

Chapter 5: What No Student Has Done Before - Rasputin by Bony M. This is an Oomlowt theme, which I struggled to find for a while when putting together the early versions of the WSM soundtrack, until one of my friends pointed out that, as an Aitvaras, Oomlowt could be considered Russian - and, well, as the first book's sole "cool" teacher, I think he's earned the right to claim one of the raddest fucking songs ever sung as his unofficial theme.

Chapter 6: The Hoard of Knowledge - Magic by The Mystery Skulls. I wanted a song that captures the feeling I got when entering my college's enormous, jaw-dropping library of books back in the day, which is a feeling this chapter also tried to catch. The fact that the song is full of language dealing with magic spells also helps it fit a wizard book.

Chapter 7: Tea With Mackers - The Nuckelavee Song from The Bard's Tale. Listen, this is the chapter where a nuckelavee plays a big role, and that's as good an excuse as any to use this song.

Chapter 8: The Matter of Manners - Changes by David Bowie. This is a Rodrigo theme, and I try to give him glam rock songs as much as possible to fit his vibe as the most fashionable of our wizard youths. I think the song also fits what Rodrigo is attempting to do in this chapter - namely, help his friends figure out how to fit in with a "higher" class of people.

Chapter 9: Hobgoblin Poetry - Magic Dance Underground / A Labyrinth Medley by Aurelio Voltaire. As I've opined before, I think Jim Henson's Labyrinth is one of the best illustrations of what folkloric fairies are like in terms of behavior/morality, and so for this chapter, when we get some characterization for a normal fairy underling for the big bad, I felt a Labyrinth song would be appropriate, and this medley is like half the soundtrack condensed into five minutes.

Chapter 10: The Samhain Celebration - Love Is All by Dio. Speaking of characterizing the Fae, there's a manic aspect to the cheery 70's positivity of this song that I find subtly sinister while still being playful and fun, which I think fits the dance-scene in this book quite well.

Chapter 11: Traps and Treasures - God's Away on Business by Tom Waits. This is a Fafgander theme - like Oomlowt, I kinda struggled finding a good song for him. I knew I wanted his theme to be something by Tom Waits, but I struggled to decided on one song in particular. I kept coming back to this one despite having already used it on the No Sympathies soundtrack - I generally try not to repeat myself on these to make sure each book's audio accompaniment is unique to it. But I couldn't stop picturing a big dragon slithering out of the clouds to the opening beats of this song, and the playful cynicism of the lyrics just felt very Fafgander.

Chapter 12: A Wild Hunt & Chapter 13: The Summer Prince - Tam Lin by The Fairport Convention. Yeah, I know, kinda cheating to lump two chapters under one song, but Tam Lin is a long-ass song, though short by Medieval Ballad standards. A song about a clever mortal finding a way to trick a high-ranking fairy noble into releasing a person she was intending to use as a sacrifice is, I think, a pretty fitting song for the climax of book 1.

Chapter 14: The End of the Beginning - This Must Be the Place by The Talking Heads. A song about finding comfort and solace despite the uncertain future that lies before you, because you have people around you to help lift your spirits, which is exactly where our heroes are emotionally by the end of book 1.

Book 2: Tournament of Death

Chapter 1: The Dragon Tithe - Don't Let's Start by They Might Be Giants. There's a fan-made Adventure Zone animatic to this song that kind of cemented it as a Fantasy song in my mind despite there being no inherent fantasy elements to the lyrics. I mean, I already loved this song, They Might Be Giants has been one of my favorite bands since I started actively considering what my favorite bands are, but this just added to that love. Like a lot of TMBG songs, it's got a very peppy, upbeat vibe while having pretty dark lyrics, which feels pretty appropriate to the tone of WSM as a whole and Tournament of Death in particular.

Chapter 2: The Dragon Trick - Just the Right Bullets by Annabelle Chvostek. This is a theme for Juno Panopte, and was chosen for a couple reasons. First, Annabelle performs this song with just the right sort of gritty, vaguely sleazy charm that I wanted Juno to ooze. She's a charismatic teacher who nonetheless puts you a little on edge - you're never sure if she's fucking with you or not. Second, it's a cover of a Tom Waits song by a lady, and Juno Panopte, the character who represents the Empress arcana in WSM's tarot motiff, is a sort of equivalent to Fafgander, the Emperor arcana - and another character with a Tom Waits song as his theme.

Chapter 3: Curios of Calampen - Marketland by Lemon Demon. This is a song about people trying to hock weird shit to you at a flea market, for a chapter about our heroes buying weird shit at a flea market.

Chapter 4: Herring Lordred - Chaos King (with lyrics) by ManontheInternet. A theme for Lord Dhenregirr, and specifically for his duel with James at the start of the titular deadly tournament.

Chapter 5: The Sundown's Shine - Just Dropped In (To See What Condition My Condition Was In) by White Denim. Yeah, it's the version from the Fargo TV show. Obviously this is a song for Geoffrey Travers, out Dude-inspired wizard.

Chapter 6: Chivalry Dies - The Impossible Dream (The Quest) from Man of La Mancha. If there is a song that more succinctly captures the ideals of chivalry and gallant knighthood, I have not heard it, and no other song could make for a better funeral dirge for poor Gabriev Zelgad.

Chapter 7: Grudge Match - Barracuda by Heart. I looked for so many other songs for this chapter because Barracuda seemed like to obvious a choice, but nothing fit as well and, hey, this is me we're talking about, and more than that, it's Midgaheim. I am not one to avoid obvious, one might even say cliche, story choices if they appeal to me. And, like, this is specifically a song about confronting and telling off your abuser, very few things would fit this chapter better. A second theme for Margot, obviously.

Chapter 8: A Needlessly Gendered Night Out - Sandstorm by Danude. Ok, so, in every high school dance, as well as every dance club I went to in college (which was, like... three? I think? I did not party nearly enough when I was young) played this song at some point, so it's cemented in my head as THE song for teenagers/young adults doing stupid shit and getting into ridiculous drama, so I included it despite it being even longer than fucking Tam Lin.

Chapter 9: Lightning Struck - Under Pressure by Queen. A song that perfectly captures the teenager/young adult condition of, like, complete and total anxiety that any moment now you could ruin your life forever without meaning to. A song for Polybeus, but also for all the Meddlesome Youths, and really for all young people everywhere.

Chapter 10: Well-Timed Pranks - The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel. Once I remembered and accepted that being trite/cliche/obvious is very much my bag, I figured what the hell, let's use one of the most-overused songs about dealing with grief for the chapter that's about dealing with grief, because this song happens to be really fucking good at describing the process of dealing with grief.

Chapter 11: Wasp Under Glass - Woman!! Spirit of the Festival from Sakura Wars (2019). This song is a leitmotif for the most under-developed lady in the main cast of this game, which is a shame because the song itself is a fucking banger. Here it serves not just as a theme for Serena (hopefully more well-developed as a character) but specifically for her fight with Sadie Pineed. Can you hear the part where all the towers fall down? I can.

Chapter 12: Deadly Threads - General's Battle Song from Centaurworld. This is a song about a character who's seemed pretty affable and cool revealing his true colors as a total bastard, and on this unofficial soundtrack it serves as a theme for Richard Rainsford. If you read the second book, you know why.

Chapter 13: The Fury of Stars and Shards - Get Along from Slayers. This is specifically a theme for Margot and Serena's two-on-two fight with the saboteurs of the tournament. Can you hear the part where Serena gets the power up? Or when our two heroines, having dealt with the first saboteaur, bear down on the second and utterly curbstomp him? I can!

Chapter 14: Triumph of the Chariot - La Bete et la Belle by The Real Tuesday Weld. The Real Tuesday Weld is another of my favorite bands, and this song is actually a reprise of their song "The Ugly and the Beautiful" from their concept album I, Lucifer (which is in turn the official soundtrack for a novel of the same name by Glenn Duncan). The song itself is about a somewhat toxic relationship between two deeply unwell people, but this reprise differs from the first instance of it by being more sweet and mellow in how it's arranged which, combined with it being sung in French instead of English like its predecessor, softens a lot of its edges and brings the sweeter, more hopeful parts of the song to the forefront. I picked it as a song for James and Margot - two people who, while not toxic, are still a bit broken and unwell because of their life experiences - who are finding hope in each other and the people around them.

#Wizard School Mysteries #Tumblr if you tag this as “youtube” I'm stealing your kidneys

[artist-issues]

Have you heard "Next Semester" by twenty one pilots yet? I feel like you'd love it.

I don't know if I've ever talked about me and Twenty One Pilots here. I gave my life to Christ in the summer of 2011 and heard a song by Tyler Joseph for the first time the same week. I didn't connect that the passionately screaming singer who made me think about how I couldn't force my emotions to line up with the reality of God, and needed Jesus to do that for me--I didn't connect that that singer was the same guy in the popular emo band until they became popular around 2015. And then I was thrilled. Because around that time I was fighting to submit my own dark thoughts to God, instead of identifying with them, so it really helped that the voice I already knew pretty well was singing those thought-provoking tracks that have made them famous. Then a year later I figured out what I wanted to do with my career, and how that connected back to God, and the first seeds of my whole understanding of storytelling and God as the Storyteller were planted--largely because of a song called "The Producer" which Tyler Joseph helped to write with Travis Whittaker.

So suffice to say, when the band that's been playing the background music of my life's biggest steps in faith makes anything new, you can be pretty sure I'm over here like 👀

I love Next Semester. It's hard, because with Twenty One Pilots, I notice my own commitment to truth and intended meaning and critical thinking at its strongest and its weakest at the same time 😅 Strongest, because you can tell he's so intentional with his lyrics and metaphors, and is communicating some things that he means so well—but weakest, because I'm constantly hoping that he's talking more about Christ and Biblical truth than he probably is. I'm always waffling between fear that Tyler Joseph is deconstructing, resentment that someone so blessed with creativity & hard work-ethic can refuse to come out and talk about the faith that saved him clearly, and...sometimes agreeing with him? Sometimes feeling like, he has a point, the way he creates and is careful to make his audience think for themselves can only lead back to Truth, which is Christ, if they're being as genuine as he is in the emotional content of the songs, and having them think for themselves makes them drop their guards and walk toward truth without "turning them off" by using culturally-Christian phrases—

ANYWAY. You didn't ask about any of that 😅 But the principals of what Twenty One Pilots does, (in terms of the art of communication and what that communication should be for) and why they do it, and what the right and wrong way to do it is, are something my brain is revolving all the time.

It's not really a good thing to keep revolving it, because at some point it's me trying to think exactly right about the whole topic, as if I can control what they do, or the outcome of what I create, if I just get it right. And that's not faith. At some point I have to quit trying so hard to think and do based on my own control! Welcome to you asking a simple question and me word vomiting/getting all preachy. (But lowkey I respect you and think you might appreciate what I'm rambling about, if anyone can. So maybe unluckily for you, you're probably the only person who could've asked me about this on here and gotten this kind of response 😅)

ANYWAY! Next Semester! I love that it's simple so that the emotion of it comes through. There's not metaphor-on-metaphor layering, so you're just left to hang on to his desperate vocals and the gut-check words of the song. I don't listen to it over and over like I do Overcompensate because it takes me to kind of a dark place—but I do love that it ends hopefully. Super hopefully. I started that paragraph above, talking about how twenty one pilots affects my critical thinking, to say this: I'm always having to be careful not to read too much of what I want to hear into the song. But that said, I do think the "person driving" in the song is representative of God. Someone outside yourself, giving you that slap of truth and hope and a fresh-start, who also could've run you down.

So I love that it ends hopefully. For a bit there, with Trench, I started to loosen my grip on them, because it felt like they would do a really good job of saying "We're broken, think about it, see how messed up we are?" And then "but we don't have to stay here," and that was really good. But...then Leave the City seems so obviously to stop at "don't stop." If that makes sense. Leave the City makes it sound like the way out of your depression, doubt, suicidal thoughts, and anxiety is just...movement. It's enough to know that you shouldn't sit in your dark thoughts (and basically sin.) But he won't say where to go instead. And I know it's because he's very genuine, and he doesn't want to say where to go instead if he doesn't know for sure that it's right, but that's not exactly reassuring.

It makes me think of the part in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce, where one ghost says something about how "the hopeful journey is much better than the destination." But then the redeemed person is like, "no, that makes no sense—there's no hope IN a journey if you're not moving toward a set destination. The destination is where hope comes from."

So in Leave the City I feel like he takes me by the hand and says "I know how you feel" and "eventually we'll move on from this feeling" but then leaves me at "not that I know where we're going." And it's like, okay, well then why would I ever get hope from moving on? If I don't know what I'm moving on to??

Christ. It's supposed to be Jesus Christ. You can't jump from a sinking ship into a raging ocean and think that that's better. You have to jump from a sinking ship ONTO DRY LAND. Or at least have it in sight, so you can swim in that direction.

Anyway. Next Semester is not like Leave the City, because it ends with hope. 🙃 That's all I'm trying to say. Thanks for coming to my rant.

#Twenty one pilots #Nobody asked this #asked #answered #tøp #I guess I should expect some lash-back from dedicated clikkies #but like #guys I've known Mr. Joseph since before ya'll called yourselves that #my feelings about what he says and how he says it are way too deep-rooted for you to be able to tear them up with your rage #clique #why not #music #critical thinking #Christianity #storytelling #art #next semester #Clancy

[joons]

As someone who knows very little about the Beach Boys but is curious, I would love to know all the tea on Mike Love.

"Mike Love isn’t just not rock … he’s actually in the red, like the anti-rock. He’s in rock debt and should spend his next life wearing golf pants and selling hairpieces." — Tony Hicks, Riff Magazine

A real article.

Let me take you on a journey.

Every Beach Boys fan starts to hate Mike Love as a joke, and then it gradually becomes real. (Mike Love defenders, I am truly sorry; you are the devil's strongest soldiers.) The traditional narrative is that when Brian Wilson (the eldest Wilson brother and de facto leader) stopped touring and began spending all his time writing music for the band, Mike Love (Brian's cousin, lead singer, lyricist) became worried that Brian would go off on his own and leave them behind. Mike had good reasons to worry; when the band came back from an extensive tour in Japan, Brian excitedly showed them what he had been working on: Pet Sounds. Widely considered their best album, and one of the best albums of all time, Pet Sounds is chamber pop music, with a wall of orchestral instruments and complex vocal harmonies, interspersed with really off-the-wall sounds, like bicycle horns and theremins, all in service of a "concept album" (the first ever such thing) about a young man entering adulthood and struggling to manage a relationship. Oh, and Brian had already recorded all of this with the Wrecking Crew (professional session musicians, who adored him), written all the lyrics with a new guy, Tony Asher, and then ushered the Beach Boys in to record the final vocals.

Mike Love was probably justifiably a bit peeved that Brian had just like ... done the thing without him and without the band, but that was Brian's job; that was the deal they had worked out when Brian decided he couldn't handle the pressure of touring anymore. Brian was already considered a savant composer at the time and the key to the Beach Boys' success; the Beatles adored his work, and he was in a constant battle to do something as spectacular as the Beatles were doing with albums like Rubber Soul. But when the band came back and got to hear the full thing (Mike was consulted on some of the lyrics beforehand), Mike was like, "This isn't us, this won't sell." (Other members had similar concerns, especially about having to recreate these elaborate orchestrations with a few guitars and drumkits on tour, but they trusted Brian.) The stressors between Mike and Brian continued when Brian started doing an even more ambitious album, Smile, using a really avant-garde lyricist who dealt in poetic imagery rather than concrete stories. Mike once again spent all the recording sessions whining about it and resisting any push toward psychedelic imagery. Legend has it he said something like, "Don't fuck with the formula" (of cars and girls and surfing), and basically shat all over what would have been the most innovative pop album of all time (purely from a production standpoint, it was a beast, needing to be constructed in tiny segments and then edited back together using analog recording equipment). It would have been, as Brian described it, "a teenage symphony to God."

Brian, being mentally fragile, did not do well with conflict like this, (he had already, with great struggle, gotten his father, Murry Wilson, fired as their manager, after Murry's abusive, controlling behavior made it impossible for them to record) and the disappointing reactions from the band and from the public toward Pet Sounds and Smile essentially killed his confidence, meaning that he soon retreated from being the band's leader and took less and less of an interest in writing. (He was more involved than popular imagination might think, but it was certainly a turning point in his creative output.) The pressure quickly became too much, and Brian, who was struggling severely with his mental health, shelved the entire Smile project. It was not released in any complete form until 2004, when Brian had the support around him (hint: not the Beach Boys) to let him put it into an acceptable shape and release a legendary lost piece of media. And it was incredible.

Now, at this point, most fans are like, "Aw, that Mike! Always sticking to the formula!" while acknowledging that he was right about how big of a risk these albums were. Points were made, and Pet Sounds didn't actually sell as well as their other stuff! Smile was very weird! Pet Sounds was so influential among rock musicians at the time (the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band was a direct response to it), but it wasn't a commercial smash. And music does need to be somewhat concerned about the business side. So maybe some fans are like, "Well. We give Mike too much grief for this, Brian had to be responsible for his own confidence, this stuff happens, whatever."

But there's never really a moment where Mike Love is vindicated. He is never satisfied to be "right" about one thing; he must be right in all things. As you keep learning about him, you're like, "Mike is just an asshole."

Very famous picture of Mike and Brian. You can see the whole relationship here.

The main reason the clashes in '66-'67 are still a sore spot is because they're a microcosm of the decadeslong war for the soul of the band. In the 1990s, Mike wrested control of the Beach Boys name from the other surviving band members after the death of Carl Wilson, Brian's brother (a saint, a diplomatic soul who kept the band together when they would otherwise be at each others' throats). This gets into complicated legal weeds, but basically Mike won the rights to tour as "the Beach Boys" even though he only toured with one other member. All of the members share in the profits but are not allowed to do their own tours with the name. Brian had no interest in touring with him at the time, and neither did Al Jardine, another surviving member, but Mike went after Al for touring as "Beach Boys Family & Friends" and successfully sued to prevent any of the other boys from doing anything similar. At the same time, he excluded them from working with him on the official tour. He has kept the band in stasis, rarely playing songs beyond the 1962-1966 eras, and keeping the band's image as a good-time surfing group, when they are so much more, and it grates that they are not more known for how musically significant and groundbreaking they were (I count the entire band's contributions in this, not just Brian, as many of them are great songwriters in their own right and did wonderful production work in the late '60s and early '70s). Mike stands athwart that deserved legacy because he finds it difficult to share the spotlight, and his contributions in the later years were simply not good. Mike isn't solely responsible for the Beach Boys being classified as a nostalgia act; that impression began when Capitol Records, their first label, put out a greatest hits album that sold far more than anything new the band was making in the early '70s. But Mike leaned into that, and instead of capitalizing on renewed interest by showing how the band had grown, Mike wanted to show that the band was exactly how you remembered them.

He is also known for being bizarrely abrasive at times, to the detriment of the band's reputation. When they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1988, Mike interrupted Brian's sweet statement and wound up going on a ramble lambasting other Hall of Fame members for suing each other (THIS IS DRAMATIC IRONY) or for not "showing up" for that year's event because they've "always been chickenshit to get onstage with the Beach Boys." I have never been able to get through this video in one sitting, I have to stop because the secondhand embarrassment is too much.

ELTON JOHN: Thank FUCK he didn't mention me!

He later blamed his tirade on not meditating that day.

In the 1990s, Mike began to sue the other members for damn near everything. While Mike was somewhat justified in regaining songwriting credits from the Beach Boys' early work (Murry Wilson had something to do with wanting to keep the credits for the Wilson brothers), he went on to claim that Brian including a picture of the Beach Boys in the album sheets for his version of Smile "damaged" the image of the band. Jesus wept. He also sued Brian for how he was portrayed in a (to be fair, mostly ghostwritten and bad) memoir without having read it.

The surviving members of the Beach Boys reunited in 2012 for the band's 50th anniversary. They put out a new album (it was great!) and toured together for the first time since the 1990s. David Marks, an early member who left during the first year, was invited back to play with them. It was healing to see them together and genuinely enjoying performing. Audiences were thrilled. Brian Wilson and Al Jardine both expressed how excited they were to keep it going, not just as a one-time anniversary tour but something they could conceivably do year after year, healing the split between Mike's band (with Beach Boy Bruce Johnston) and the tours that Brian and Al did together. But before any of that could be worked out, Mike just ghosted them, along with David. He announced that the tour was going to go on without them without doing a joint release. Brian and Al wrote a freaking letter to the editor stating they hadn't been told. So it's definitely another "Mike is why we can't have nice things" moment. He has described his exclusive ability to tour as "my nourishment and my revenge," framing it as a way of recovering lost royalties after being cheated out of songwriting credits for a long time, even though he was already awarded monetary compensation for that. In actual fact, he just cannot handle being upstaged.

Some other things that Mike gets flak for: getting obsessed with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and Transcendental Meditation movement, writing songs exclusively about the concept and trying to turn the Beach Boys into an official Maharishi touring group; overclaiming writing credits for his small contributions to certain songs; playing for Trump's campaign events; playing for a trophy hunter guild (these last two in spite of public disavowals from Brian and Al). There are probably other, more private things that I don't think are necessary to get into. None of the band members have completely clean hands in how they've treated one another. What sets Mike apart is that he makes it public and cannot move on.

Everyone has a different breaking point with him, I think. For me, it's his continued digs at Brian, particularly relating to Brian's mental illnesses. Even extending some grace to him for dealing with difficult working conditions as some of the band members spiraled, I cannot excuse how disgusting his language is and how much he clearly wants to erase the empathy and love people have for Brian, with whatever tool he has at hand.

For context, Brian Wilson was locked into an unspeakably abusive conservatorship with his psychologist, Eugene Landy, for a decade, up until 1991. The abuse involved improper prescription treatment that continues to affect Brian to this day. (He is lucky it did not kill him.) I don't even like to think about it much because it's so dark, but Landy controlled what Brian could eat, what he sang, and who he could talk to. He sold off Brian's publishing rights and represented him in public and corporate matters. Thanks to a longtime fan and music journalist, David Leaf; Brian's future wife; and intervention by the family (who had been cut off from communicating with Brian), he was given control of his own life again and eventually properly diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. He has gotten to lead his own life again, making music that helps him deal with auditory hallucinations and depression, and working with who he wants to.

With that background, it's absolutely fucked for Mike to say this:

"He’s not in charge of his life, like I am in mine. His every move is orchestrated and a lot of things he’s purported to say, there’s not tape of it. But, I don’t like to put undue pressure on him, either, because I know he has a lot of issues. Out of compassion, I don’t respond to everything that is purportedly said by him. I’ve noticed where he says he really regards me as his greatest writing partner and that he loves my voice. Even on the 50th (anniversary tour), he made it quite clear he really liked watching me do my thing while he was at the piano. So, there’s a lot of positivity there.” (X)

So many layers there. He's so comically up his own ass, but the things he says about Brian upset me so much. He's so vile for no reason. Even if this were a criticism of Brian's PR or legal team, he could say so, instead of using Brian's past abuse to brush aside his opinions. He always does this thing where the Wilsons' addictions and illnesses are the result of bad choices, while he's never done anything wrong and was victimized by them. It's so infuriating, but it's also hard to get too upset with him because he's genuinely blind.

The thing about Mike is that he's so ... bad that he's fun to hate. Is he truly the worst person in the world? No. But is he actually the worst person in the world? Yes. His terribleness makes me laugh. That might have more to do with the cerebral way Beach Boys fans cut Mike Love clips, but goddamn, it gets me. (Beach Boys fans have had to deal with an awful lot of kitsch against their will, and I think this is their way of coping.)

LISTEN TO THIS MANIAC, I AM WHEEZING AT WORK.

(It's so crazy, he even added in that psychedelic riff at the end of the video! That's not in the song! It's just to emphasize how weird he thinks "Good Vibrations" is and how much he has to "apologize" for it. What is happening. Even when he is "joking," there's such a dark energy about it.)

In conclusion:

A real article. "His memoir leaves him neither vindicated nor convincingly tolerable as a human being."

#anyway in spite of all this 'big sur' slaps #and guess what so does 'student demonstration time' #okay bye #the beach boys #this was so fun to write; thank you for giving me an excuse to type this all up!

[olympeline]

I’ve only ever been vaguely aware of Eurovision in the past in a “oh, Eurovision is on? Yeah, sure, let’s watch it 👍” kinda way. Some years I’ve let it completely pass me by. But I’ve made a friend at my board games group who looooves Eurovision. It’s absolutely his thing that he waits all year for, and he’s helped me get into it too. I get it now. It’s really fun :D

So, I just binge listened to all the entries and here’s some thoughts from a newbie:

First off, who do I think will win? Croatia. Croatia: 100% my pick for #1. Never heard of Baby Lasgna before but now I want to listen to everything he’s ever made because what a banger Rim Tim Tagi Dim is! If this song doesn’t get at least top 2, that’s a paddlin crime. Seriously, it just has everything. Great melody, great lyrics, great message, super memorable. What more do you want? Come on, Croatia bros! Get your first win! 🇭🇷

That being said, if there’s anyone I think could give Baby Lasagna a run for his money, it’s Switzerland. I don’t think The Code is quite on Rim Tim Tagi Dim’s level, but live performances can mean a lot. If Nemo has a great night and Baby Lasagna fumbles his performance? Nemo could swing it. Some of his vocals? *Chef’s kiss* Even stronger than the strongest parts of Rim Tim Tagi Dim. It’s a dust up between a song I think is consistently super high in quality all the way through (Croatia) vs. one with quality that dips higher and lower at certain points (Switzerland) if that makes sense. I think the Swiss could walk a top 3 placement with this, easy 🇨🇭

Probably the entry where I differ most from the general opinion is Italy’s song. After listening, it struck me as a UK-tier entry (see below). As in good, but nothing remarkable. Middle ground. But that’s a minority opinion because everyone else loves La Noia! Everyone is saying it won’t just rank high, but will be huge after Eurovision and become a big chart topper. And I’m just here like: “Huh? Really? This one? 😯” Don’t get me wrong, it’s fine. But I can’t muster up any bigger feelings for it beyond “fine.” Guess it’s just taste at the end of the day 🇮🇹

Ooh la la, France’s song is beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous! As a side note, I love that so many entries are singing in their native languages. It’s so much better than everyone doing English. I do hope they give us a subtitles option, though. I can’t remember if that’s something Eurovision does? Anyway, I don’t know how true this is but I’ve heard Eurovision really doesn’t like slow, soulful ballads so maybe that will hurt Mon Amour? I hope not. It’s so lovely I think it deserves a lot of points. Slimane is another artist I’ve never heard of but I need to look up now. From across the channel, vive la France! 🇫🇷

The Netherlands’s Europapa is the dark horse of this competition. Has to be. I don’t think it will win - not against entries like Rim Tim Tagi Dim - buuut if it did, I wouldn’t be super surprised…? I can see a top 5 or even a top 3. I know the jury people can be sniffy about songs that are too silly and playful so maybe they will be Joost Klein’s downfall? I think viewers will love it, though. I certainly did. I wouldn’t be mad at all if Europapa won 🇳🇱

If the Netherlands is the dark horse then Finland is the dark horse’s dark horse. I love No Rules! It’s so much fun and a real camp banger, too! Just pure, pure cracky fun. I think this will be a real love/hate, marmite “you either get it, or you think it’s really dumb” entry. I have no idea where this one will place. If it came bottom 5 I’d be like, “yeah, understandable” and if it came top 5 I’d be like “yeah, understandable.” Love it either way. Keep doing you, Finland (and yes, I agree you deserved to win last year) 🇫🇮

Before getting into this contest, I had no idea Luxembourg was such a Eurovision powerhouse! Look at this little Duchy that could, coming out every year swinging at the big boys and getting knock out after knock out. What an inspiration for the little guys of the world. It’s awesome, just like their song. I think this could be a mid to upper entry? Fighter is low in the odds right now, so I’m hoping this will be an entry that ends up surprising everyone on the day. Keep that David and Goliath energy going, Luxies! 🇱🇺

Spain was a surprise! I know from my limited Eurovision awareness that they usually score low, so I wasn’t expecting much. But I really liked Zorra a lot. Apparently people think it will either do really well or really badly? I hope it does well because I loved it. Go, Spain! I hope you crack the top ten 🇪🇸

I can’t make up my mind about Austria’s We Will Rave. Sometimes I like it, sometimes I think it’s too generic club banger? Of all the entries, this is the one I’m going back and forth on the most even after lots of repeat listens. If I had to choose a position, I’d say middle to upper middle? Hmm. IDK. We’ll see how you do, tricksy little hobbitses Austria 🇦🇹

As for closer to home in the British Isles, I didn’t care for Ireland’s song, sadly. I’ve listened to it twice now and I can barely remember it. Which is surprising since even I know Ireland is usually one of the big, swinging dicks of Eurovision. One of the few countries who can give the Swedish master race a run for the top spots. I was expecting a lot from Ireland but, IDK, it didn’t feel like Doomsday Blue could find an identity? Like, it’s stuck halfway between a serious and a wacky entry? It’s hard to put into words because I’m so musically illiterate lol, but I’ll try. It’s not dramatic enough to compete with Rim Tim Tagi Dim or The Code, but not crazy enough that it doesn’t get overshadowed by Europapa and No Rules. Speaking of, I think it’s trying to do what Europapa has but didn’t quite make it? Ehh, we’ll see 🇮🇪

The UK? Hmm. Eehh. Mmm? Hmm…I think Dizzy is a good song and I like it better than Doomsday Blue, but I’d be surprised if it was a threat to the upper echelons. It’s too safe. Competent, nothing wrong with it, but doesn’t stand out. I don’t think it will do badly exactly - unless Olly Alexander really boobs it up on the night - but I can’t see a top ten placement. If our Irish bros come low, I think we Brits will come an unremarkable middle of the pack? Or just under? Again, we’ll see 🇬🇧

Speaking of countries who are usually members of the Eurovision Cripples Team as my friend calls us (wooo! Yeah! Go go useless nations! 🇪🇸 🇩🇪 🇬🇧 😂) apparently poor Germany is predicted to come last again. And yeeeaaahhh, considering this is another entry I can’t remember at all despite multiple listens, I’d believe it. I still love you, Germany. Don’t give up! Satellite was one of the Eurovision finals I actually saw, so I believe they can be good again 🇩🇪

Aaaaaand those are all my thoughts so far. It’s still a few months away, but I’m already getting excited! I can’t wait to go to my first watch party. Then afterwards it will be fun to look back on this post and see how my predictions held up. Maybe I’ll have some beginner’s luck? Either way, best wishes to all countries performing! 😄

#eurovision 2024 #esc 2024 #my posts #not hetalia

[mcu-coworkers]

A Glimpse Of Us

Summary: Anakin can’t bring himself to let go and you can't hold on any longer.

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Y/n reader

Warnings: Sad story with semi sad ending:(

A/n: If you haven't heard  Glimpse of us by Joji  I   recommend it because it definitely hits hard. :’) this one is inspired by the song lyrics so  I   hope  I   did it justice. I was thinking of a Part 2 for this one but it might just stay where it is I'm not sure yet really. As always  I   hope you guys enjoy it thank you guys for reading.xx

Word count: 1,989

Masterlist

PT.2

You walked into the Jedi ball, your arm around your date, face forward hoping your fear didn't show on your face. You haven't seen each other since the break up but sooner or later you knew you'd see him.

You avoided looking around just in case he was already here. It wasn't like you both had not agreed to separate, it had been a while since and he’d managed to move on just fine.

When he spoke to you in the temple he did it with ease like he’d never loved you in the first place. Maybe it was because he was so good at keeping it a secret like you both did with the relationship or maybe he was over it a long time ago.

Lost in your thought you almost jumped back when Padme approached you. “y/n? Oh my you look wonderful!” she said excitedly. “Doesn't she Anakin?” she added looking back at her boyfriend. You instantly froze looking anywhere but him.

“You’re right. She looks gorgeous.” he said, smiling down at you. Secretly, he’d wished he was the one with his arm around you but he knew it’d all end the same.

“Well thank you both,  I   need a drink, we will talk later.” you said only looking at Padme before walking off.

Anakin's gaze followed you and your date followed you until you got lost in the crowd, only looking away by force not wanting Padme to notice.

Looking down at her he hardly felt the energy to keep a conversation with her but she was good for him. Everyone liked her, she was kind, a leader. But as much as he tried he just couldn't give it his all.

“There's the senator  I  ‘ve been meaning to talk to. Will you give me a second?” she asked not waiting for him to answer. Sighing, he walked toward the bar, he was going to need a lot of drinks to survive the night.

Calling over the bartender and asking for the strongest thing they had he took a seat and looked around the room and suddenly his eyes landed on you. He watched as you laughed at your dates joke, probably something stupid.

“He doesn't dance.” someone said, that someone turning out to be Rex, Anakin's right hand man.

“And?” he said chuggin the rest of his drink.

“She loves to dance. Remember when she’d make you dance? Never thought  I‘d see that day sir.” he said looking at his General, Rex was never told about the secret relationship but he wouldn't be one of the best if his observation skills weren't as good.

And still, he was right. Anakin smiled to himself as he remembered the day Rex spoke of.

---

It was raining and Anakin was upset he’d gotten grazed by a beam in battle and Rex had forced him to get it checked, mainly becuase he knew his general had a thing for you but also because he wanted him to get checked out too.

“Doesn't seem like anything serious  I  ‘ll just dress it, wrap and you’ll be good as new Ani.” you said turning around to grab your kit.

Trying to hide his smile with a frown Anakin stood up, “ I   dont need it, but thank you for looking at it he said getting ready to walk out.

“Ah ah ah stop right there.” you said smiling at him and coming closer, looking around making sure it was clear before wrapping your arms around his torso. “Why won't you let me heal you?” you asked sweetly.

“ I   dont need healing my love,  I only came because Rex wouldnt rest until  I  did.” He said wrapping his arms around you.

You fake gasped, “well  I   guess  I   have Rex to thank or else  I   wouldnt get to see my boyfriend at all.” you said pulling away.

Sighing Anakin lifted his hand towards the radio you had in your office and turned it on to your favorite song and he took your hands in his again. “Dance with me?” he said smiling with you.

“Anakin Skywalker, are you asking me to dance?” you said in disbelief, he’d always steered away from it at parties and balls so this was a surprise. You moved your hands to the back of his kneck and his around your hips.

As you began to sway together you leaned your foreheads together and grinned from ear to ear. “ I‘m sorry  I‘ve been absent, But  I   promise soon  I‘ll be here everyday, in this office, with something new for you to check.” he said, making you chuckle.

“And  I‘ll make sure you come back for daily check ups just to make sure you're healing alright.” you smiled meeting his lips with yours.

----

Anakin smiled at the memory you’d always cared for him even over the smallest injuries you still came running to his aid.

He missed that part, you were the  shoulder he leaned on when he found his mother, when he felt lost you were there. You’d never failed to put a smile on his face when he felt his lowest. You understood him before he even spoke, still to this day he wondered how you did it.

Suddenly he thought about what Rex had said and when he looked up at you again you were alone. Confused and looking around for your date he found him, infatuated with some lady from the bar.

Scoffing and gaining some courage he decided to approach you. “Dance with me.” he said startling you, your reaction warming his heart. He loved that he still had an affect on you.

“Um,  I   don't think that's-” he cut you off, “Your ‘date’ is talking to some random girl and you were left standing alone.” he said observing your face as you looked at your date in confusion.

Sighing, you looked away, “It’s okay,  I   was planning on leaving soon anyway.” you said setting your watered down drink on a passing tray.

Anakin stood in your way again this time taking your hand in his and pulling you to the dance floor. “Anakin,” you said not wanting Padme to see you.

Wrapping his arm around your hip and taking your hand with the other he said, “Just let me hold you.” he whispered quietly making you meet his eyes in surprise. And it was then that he finally felt alive again.

His heart was racing, mind running wild with all of his memories with you. The small smile playing on your lips as you felt the same way, finally meeting his eyes you remembered the first thing about him that caught your attention.

His eyes.

Sure they were a nice shade of ocean blue but you saw passed that, in those blue eyes you saw his past, his pain, his fear, but also his love and his wild imagination that needed to be heard and healed.

You wanted to be that person. You thought you could be that person.

“What is going on in that mind ?” Anakin said softly raising his eyebrows, “Nothing,  I   just was.” you sighed, “thinking.” you said looking down smiling earning a chuckle from Anakin as he twirled you around.

Bringing you back to him secretly he pulled you closer this time. “And when did you become so fond of dancing?” he asked smiling at his sudden love for it.

“Do you remember our first date? He asked, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Yes.” you said quietly. “We went to the fanciest restaurant  I‘d ever seen and five  minutes later we left because it was full of snotty people.” you said smiling to yourself.

“ I   thought you’d like me more if  I took you somewhere that made me look more mature.” he said, rolling his eyes, smiling at the memory. “ I   thought Rubianos was perfect, no harsh stares, people with longer life spans.” you said jokingly, making him laugh.

In the midst of his laughter you realized what was happening. You’d also realized the dance floor was beginning to clear.

“ I   should get going, thank you Anakin, this was lovely.” you said as the song ended turning around and beginning to walk away and straight for the door. Not bothering to say goodbye to anyone.

“Wait, why are you leaving?” Anakin asked to catch up to you in the hallway. “Why did you?” you asked snapping at him catching him by surprise.

“Y/n, we came to that decision together.” he got serious. “No you came to that decision and  I   accepted it because it was what you wanted.” you said finally being able to look at him and feeling freed.

“This whole time,  I   followed you because my happiness was your own. And when you left  I   was the one who felt lost.” you said admitting your truth. “Don't say that.” he said tears building up in his eyes.

“ I   was happy because of you, all of who  I was, who  I   became was because of you.” he said coming closer making you step back and putting your hand up.

“Then  I   guess that makes us both lost.” you said sighing in defeat. “You should go back to the ball Padme is probably looking for you.” you said calmly tired of having done this with him again.

“Sometimes  I   wish you’d look me in the eyes more.” he said, “its the only time  I feel something now and days.” he said quietly.

“Sometimes  I   wish  I moved on as easily as you did.” you said adjusting your purse and beginning to walk away for good this time.

“Tell me you don't feel it too, when you look into my eyes.” he said, making you stop. Turning your head you looked at him once more. “Because sometimes  I   look into your eyes and  I   see a glimpse of us,” he said, wiping the silent tears away.

“And  I   spend everyday trying to get you to look at me so  I   can feel that again.” he whispered coming closer.

“Well soon you won't have to waste your time on me anymore.” you said as a tear escaped your eyes. Anakin frowned at your comment, “ I   asked for a base transfer so we won't be crossing paths anymore. Its for the best.” you said quietly wanting this to be over so you could go home and pack.

Anakin looked away shaking his head, “ I   tell you  I   need you and you push me further away.” he says hurt by your decision. “If  I   dont leave when will you give you and Padme a real chance.” you said questioning him.

“She cares for you, shes good and she already has you.” you chuckled, “we didnt work out Anakin, and thats okay, you and  I   will be okay just not together.” you said taking his head in your hands.

“This space will be good for me to move on and for you to let Padme in.” you said, wiping his tears away.

“And if   I   don't want to? If  I   come looking for you and bring you home?” he asked in all seriousness bringing a small smile to your face as you looked at his hopeful eyes.

“Tell you what Anakin skywalker, if after a year or two you haven't fallen in love with Padme then and only then, can you come looking for me but not a moment before.” you said smiling hoping you’d eased him enough to let you go.

“Promise you’ll come home?” he asked, “ If you haven't then yes,  I   promise. But for now, Goodbye Anakin.”  you said as you reached up to kiss his cheek before walking away for good.

Then suddenly, Anakin woke out of his nightmare breathless and reaching for the other side of the bed he found it empty.

“Ten months down, two more to go.” he murmured, turning himself around and looking at the photo of the girl who made him a promise.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakinedit #obi wan and anakin #star wars #glimpse of us

[cosmicjoke]

i am here to provide some levi asks!! hopefully u haven't answered these yet: 1.) are there characters from other fandoms that remind you of levi? if so, who? 2.) which of the cadets dynamic with levi do you like the best? 3.) what are some songs you associate with levi? it can be based on vibes, lyrics, etc. ( one of my personal faves is wise man by frank ocean )

4.) if you could put levi in a room with one character from any fandom aside aot, who would you like to see him interact with? can be for intellectual conversation purposes or just to see shit hit the fan lol!

i would add more but i dont wanna make this ask SUPER long ahahaha! i hope u enjoy these lighthearted questions <3

Hey there, and thank you for the Levi asks! I'm always down for that.

You know, I think Levi is really a unique character. I can't really think of anyone quite like him. His mixture of seeming stoicism, and strength, along with his deep, inner compassion and kindness, is really a combination I've never seen in another character. Of course, there's the whole strong, silent hero archetype, which one could say Levi falls into, but his personality really isn't like any other character I can think of. He's so reserved outwardly, but he has these deep, passionate displays of emotion, driven by pure compassion and empathy. He's violent, but he's so totally lacking in cruelty or malice. I mean, I see a lot of those qualities in Ash and Yashiro too, actually. But Yashiro is nothing like Levi in terms of personality, haha. Ash is closer to Levi's personality, but again, not with quite the same level of reservedness or even-keeled disposition.

I love Levi's dynamic with both Jean and Connie. He goes out of his way to really help those two in moments of vulnerability, and to help them grow as people as a result, and come to more fully realized versions of themselves. I really love a lot of Levi's interactions with Eren early on, too, for a lot of the same reasons. Levi tries hard to help Eren, and I think it must have been devastating to him, to see what Eren eventually became.

Ohh, I always have trouble with asks like these, haha. I'll have to check the song you suggested out! Honestly, the song from the soundtrack for AoT "So ist es immer" makes me think of Levi every time I hear it, probably because it was the theme song for "No Regrets". Also "Omake-pfadlib", again because it's the music that played at the end of "No Regrets", when Levi kills the titan that killed Isabel and Furlan. It's so tragic, so I feel like it really captures Levi's immense grief beautifully.

Haha, this is another hard one. I see people compare Levi to Gojo a lot, and that would probably be a pretty explosive meeting, haha. I can see Gojo REALLY getting on Levi's nerves, with his bubbly, obnoxious personality. At the same time, they're each carrying a similar burden of being the strongest person in their respective universes, so they could relate to each other on that front. Of having the responsibility of being the strongest, and all the expectations that come with it. I would also like to actually see Levi and Ash interact, because I think it would be the opposite, and the two of them would really get along well. They both also know the isolation of being relied upon by others, and also being feared by others for their strength, so I think it would be interesting to see the two of them together.

#Levi Ackerman #Ash Lynx #Yashiro #attack on titan #shingkei no kyojin #Banana Fish #twittering birds never fly #gojo saturo #jjk

[glassprism]

It's been said that Webber Christine shows the most strength and fierceness, more than other any other versions. But when watching 2004 movie Webber Christine that same feel isn't there. Why did they insist to have her be a bit more weaker than the stage? Did that look better to do for movie purposes?

Oh, I don't know about being the strongest and fiercest, plus it really depends on the actress. (Meghan Picerno? Very fierce. Sarah Brightman? More dreamy than fierce.) Like, I think Leroux's Christine, who slams a door in Erik's face, wields a pair of scissors in case Erik should "stop acting like a gentleman", lies to Erik's face for two weeks, bashes her own head against a wall - that's pretty strong. Not to mention Claude Rains's Christine, who ditches both men in favor of her own career, or Robert Englund's Christine, who literally sets his lair on fire, both badass in different ways.

I think the best way to say it is that ALW's Christine experiences the most growth and change, since she starts off naive and passive but becomes independent over the course of the show, while others, like Leroux's Christine, are quite strong to begin with but do display less growth as a consequence. (And then there's Kay's Christine who just doesn't mature at all. Just a flat line of character development.)

But anyway, one thing about the movie is that they cut off scenes that show more of Christine's defiance. The big one for me is 'Notes II', a scene in the musical where Christine 1) yells at Carlotta, 2) yells at the managers, 3) yells at Raoul, and 4) yells at everyone before running off. The movie, however, removes most of the scene, leaving only Raoul's plan and 'Twisted Every Way'. This is part of the adaptation process, of course, where scenes get shortened or removed to bring the runtime down, and it makes some sense because 'Twisted Every Way' is moved to after the graveyard scene, not before as in the musical, but it does mean that a moment of Christine actually speaking out for herself is excised.

Another aspect is just the direction given to Emmy Rossum and her acting, such as in 'Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again'. In the musical, most actresses use this scene as Christine's big growth moment - Christine is finally moving on from her grief, she's ready to stand on her own feet, etc. In the 2004 movie, though, Emmy Rossum is just... sad. She's sad. It's honestly a bit funny because it seems like nobody actually listened to the lyrics of the song ("No more memories, no more silent tears, no more gazing across the wasted years!"), as if the director was just like, "Oh, 'Wishing'? It's the sad song, right? Just tell Emmy to play it sad, that's all we need."

And a third factor is the blocking of some scenes. 'Final Lair' is the big stand-out to me, because in the musical Christine is everywhere in that scene: she's trying to free Raoul, she blocks him from the Phantom, she is sometimes actively fighting the Phantom or making him back down or yelling at him, and it really shows how active and defiant Christine has become. But in the movie's 'Final Lair', Christine just stands there, again looking sad ("about as useful as a mannequin" went one review). Maybe she didn't want to get her dress wet, I don't know. The overall effect is that Christine comes off like an observer, not an active participant in the scene.

As for why they did this, there are some possible reasons. I think a big part of is that the movie was made to appeal to a younger, more mainstream crowd, teenagers to very young adults, and one way to do that is to strip the audience surrogate (the character that people will project themselves onto, in this case Christine for young women) of her personality traits. This is something that Stephenie Meyer did with her Twilight series, where Bella was written "so that the reader could more easily step into her shoes", to the point of leaving out even a description of her appearance.

That being said, this isn't necessarily confined to movies for teenagers; it's a fairly common thing to do in romances too, and one thing about the 2004 movie is that it really upped the romantic aesthetic, humanizing the Phantom, making him much more an object of sympathy, and so on.

And of course... maybe that's just how the filmmakers see Christine! Maybe that's just how they see the story overall, as a love triangle with a passive girl being fought over by two men; unfortunately, I think love triangles in pop culture in general come off that way. Heck, women in media are still being written that way, and Phantom is far from the first or the last to have that happen. After all, stripped of blocking and staging and actresses, the story can be seen in that sense. It wouldn't be the first time someone has misinterpreted the musical (ahem restaged tour).

So there you have it.

#GP gets asks #anonymous #as I wrote this I had flashbacks to frigging Piers Anthony #who could not write women at all #but anyway

[thebreakfastgenie]

what's your least favourite billy joel album??

Honestly I don't know!!!!

It's either Streetlife Serenade, An Innocent Man, The Bridge, or Storm Front. But the thing is every single one of those albums has multiple songs I would call personal favorites:

Streetlife Serenade: The Great Suburban Showdown, The Entertainer, Weekend Song

An Innocent Man: Easy Money, An Innocent Man, This Night, Keeping the Faith

The Bridge: A Matter of Trust, Modern Woman, Temptation, Code of Silence, Getting Closer

Storm Front: I Go to Extremes, Shameless, Leningrad

Yes I did list more than half of one of these albums as favorites. This is what I'm saying.

An Innocent Man is kind of the opposite of the others. I think it's a great album and he nails the concept of doing retro musical styles. I do think it works better taken as a whole, so it's kind of ironic that some of those songs became huge hits out of context. But some of those hits are just... they're good but they're a little played out for me. I still sing along to every word and I still screamed when he announced them in concert so I mean.

With the other three, I've always felt these albums are just not as cohesive as his strongest work. I'm beginning to be persuaded on Storm Front because I saw an interview where he talked about it depicting a storm building and then the last song being the calm after the storm and I was like okay that makes sense. Storm Front also has lower lows for me. I like That's Not Her style, it has some really fun lyrics (she wines and dines with Argentines and Kuwaitis...) but musically it doesn't quite fit into the groove for me. Storm Front, State of Grace, and When In Rome similarly kind of just... happen to me. I like When In Rome and feel called to defend it because he was so mean about it for absolutely no reason, but it's definitely not his best work. So there are just chunks of that album I'm not as into.

The Bridge similarly feels so disorganized to me. There are so many fantastic songs on this album but I don't know where any of them are going. I find myself asking "the bridge to where? or to what?" Ironically to me it just feels like the bridge between different stages of his career; it was the last album he did with Phil Ramone but I always consider it in a group with Storm Front and River of Dreams because it feels so removed from the previous five albums he did with Phil. It also has lower lows for me; I always think I don't like Running On Ice until I listen to it and I remember that I love the piano and some of the lyrics ("a cosmopolitan sophisticate of culture and intelligence" would be my blog title if it wasn't too many characters for mobile) but I think something about the sound just doesn't click for me. I don't really care for Baby Grand or Big Man On Mulberry Street too much. I love that he got to work with Ray Charles and I appreciate what an influence Ray was but I don't personally like that style of music as much. So again, just chunks of the album I don't enjoy as much.

Streetlife Serenade suffered greatly from being sort of a sophomore album. It was actually his third album, but it was his second with Columbia, and he was forced to put it out when he hadn't had enough time to write because he was doing the Piano Man tour and he did not have enough material and it shows. Two of the ten songs are instrumentals although incidentally Root Beer Rag is great. Again with the lows... every song on this album has something I love about it, but Streetlife Serenader, Los Angelenos, Roberta, and Last of the Big Time Spenders are musically kind of unmemorable to me (Roberta is memorable for other reasons). I know I compare Los Angelenos unfairly to Say Goodbye to Hollywood, though. And I absolutely love Souvenir, but it's so short, it feels like half a song. Ultimately I think Streetlife Serenade is probably his weakest album just because it's unfinished but I don't know if that makes it my least favorite.

Typing all of that out did not help me answer the question. I'm going to say An Innocent Man because it's a bold choice and it's one of the few I have not been putting on deliberately lately. An Innocent Man and Keeping the Faith were both live highlights for me though lol.

[songsforthepierce]

Odd Tracks: We Didn't Start the Fire by Billy Joel & Fall Out Boy Cover

So...uh I legit don't know how to start this. Okay, look, we all know the only reason I am doing this is because of the whole Fall Out Boy's quite not so good cover of it. But before I can actually talk about the cover itself we have to start with the original.

You know, as I listen to this I realized I had actually never listened to the full version of the song before. I would always hear the chorus but nothing else. This is not to say I had NEVER heard of the song before. It was that when people would use it in Anime Hell AMVs to Abridged series they would only play the chorus. Which I get why, it's the most memorable part of the song that and in my opinion the strongest part of the song.

So what is the significance of the song? Well the reason it exists in the first place was because at the time Joel just turned 40 and while he met Sean Lennon's friend who just turned 21 in the recording studio. Supposedly they had a conversation where said 21 year old talked about how it was a terrible time to turn 21 and Billy said,

"Yeah, I remember when I was 21 – I thought it was an awful time and we had Vietnam, and y'know, drug problems, and civil rights problems and everything seemed to be awful".

The young adult replied back with,

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but it's different for you. You were a kid in the fifties and everybody knows that nothing happened in the fifties".

This took Billy aback and retorted with, "Wait a minute, didn't you hear of the Korean War or the Suez Canal Crisis?"

The main dismissal from the young adult would be the main inspiration for the creation of the song while the two headlines would be the main framework of the song. I do find it weirdly funny he mentions the Suez Canal crisis at the time when in 2021 the canal would be blocked leading to another historical event. Within the song there are 118 brief references to significant political, cultural, scientific, and sport events between the birth year of Billy Joel, 1949, to 1989. These would be listed in predominantly chronological order which makes the song feel very concise and easy to follow. That and it has a very clear intention, the world has always had chaotic events and always will. I do feel like here Billy's intent is from a genuine place of telling people of the era and even before that major historical events be it good or bad have always been a constant. That it is not new nor are the events that happened in the past any less significant than the issues in the current era.

So one of the main talking points sprouted from the recent cover is people debating whether or not the song is a low tier Billy Joel song or not. Well for me, it is in the middle. I do not think it is his best song but I do not think it is his worst. It gets the job done. But how does Billy see this song? Well in the 1993 film, Billy Joel: Shades of Grey, he talked about how he felt about the song on the more musical end with documentary director David Horn. Joel would compare the more melodic content in a more unfavorable light to his song, The Longest Time,

"Take a song like 'We Didn't Start the Fire.' It's really not much of a song … If you take the melody by itself, terrible. Like a dentist drill."

Then on chapter 14 of the book, In their Own Words by Bill DeMain, he interviewed Billy about the song and he states,

"I started doing that as a mental exercise. I had turned forty. It was 1989, and I said, “Okay, what’s happened in my life? I wrote down the year 1949… It was kind of a mind game. [It’s] one of the few times I’ve written the lyrics first, which should be obvious to why I usually prefer to write the music first, because the melody is horrendous. It’s like a mosquito droning. It’s one of the worst melodies I’ve ever written. I kind of like the lyric though."

While one could see his views on the more musical side of his song as mean I do get where he is coming from. As he stated, he prefers to write the music first then the lyrics second. When you write the melody first then you can figure out how the lyrics go but for some writing the lyrics first makes it so you have to figure out "Okay, what is the music going to sound like?" So while he may not really care for how the song sounds, it is clear he liked what he wrote. My own view of the song itself is in the middle I genuinely respect the intent behind it. The concept of showing that every era has it's negatives and positives historically is a good one. A reminder to anyone from the past and to the future. While I was listening to the song I saw these comments beneath the video,

Censoring the usernames because I don't want people to bother these people. But seeing these comments are from 1-2 years ago is funny. A forty year anniversary remake of the song would be a good idea. A lot has happened since 1989 and having an updated version of the song going from then to 2023 would be a neat expansion on the original's intent and a reminder to people about how while the era we live in now does suck in a lot of ways so too does the past.

Wait...we got that. The monkey's paw oh so curled...

Okay so let's start with a positive, the instrumental is fine. Not great but serviceable. But again, the original melody is not hard to screw up. But my main critique of the cover is the verses. The list of events are not in chronological order which makes the song feel like a mess of words. In the original the order is important, it emphasizes all the major events in a way to show the broad scope of what has happened throughout time. That and the events are in phrases. While that is true here it is bizarre to have "Michael Jackson dies" but then just have "Kurt Cobain" Like Michael Jackson dying is the only notable event of Michael Jackson's significance in the pop world while Kurt Cobain's existence lets the listener make the informed thought of BOTH his life and death are important.

You know what this cover makes me think? It really reads like a first draft. Like the band got together and went "Hey, what were the major things that happened from 1989 to 2023?" and just started shouting out what they remembered in no particular order. Then when they were done went "Yeah, that's good enough. Lets record" because I notice certain historical events are not mentioned like Occupy Wall Street, Kony 2012, Gamergate, Ferguson, Flint Michigan water crisis, Hurricane Katrina, Covid-19, and many more. It just feels so incomplete and emphasizes that his cover is such a big miss opportunity. While I don't want to assume no effort was put into this cover it does come off like the effort to passion wasn't really there. It makes whatever got intention they had get so muddy. Though the lyric change that stood out to me was in the chorus,

We didn't start the fire It was always burning since the world's been turning We didn't start the fire No, we didn't light it but we're trying to fight it

This is the strongest part of the whole cover. The intention of that while all this shit has been happening that we are trying to change things for the better. But the fact this is just a tiny nugget within a mess pile just makes said pile look more disorganized than before.

I know this is like the only to first time I have really made a review on something one would consider relevant I only did so because I am just baffled by it all.

#Billy Joel #song review #fall out boy #music review #We didn't start the fire #cover song #odd tracks #long post #Youtube

[neoncherryblossom]

Ao3 ask game!

3, 7, 12, 28 and 29 👀👀

Hello!

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Did some thinking and honestly? The works in my series going through Darius and Eber's grief. (Just barely in second place being Hanahaki Darius and Metal Sonic stuff). I reread parts of it when you commented and yeah. I am still proud I wrote that and finished it. Definitely not my most popular (even in my TOH works) but wow.

*pats self on back.* All my stuff is things I wanna see and that should be the warning symbol people get reading my stuff because yes. I am going to be extremely self indulgent. Moving on.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Okay now this is tricky. I don't really follow any single artist as much as I find an animatic/cover and put whatever character is in that situation.

(The original title idea for Darius' Hanahaki is actually from Hamilton? Don't know what that says about me as a person but the lyrics 'love doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep loving anyway' really felt Darius coded to me. And that's all the songs I pull from honestly. How character coded is this song to this charcater.)

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Considering how life will absolutely not let me finish anything before basically Christmas, active WIPS is about...

six? And that's ignoring all my insane ones I started just to get an idea out of my system.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Hard one. I think at this very second, my gift fic for TrishaCollins 'ill be waiting till i see you again' and 'Cover Your Face and Turn a Blind Eye; You Never Cared for the Truth' but honestly it changes depending on what I haven't read lately and what I'm itching for. They are all self indulgent hell.

(Selective Mute Eber comes in second.)

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Any of the snippets I posted here are examples of something I adored. But.

---

It wasn’t fair, none of this was fair. 

“It wasn’t,” Plagg quietly agreed and Nooroo leaned harder into him, because he was still too afraid of touching him directly but wanted to eat all the comfort Plagg was radiating, lick up all his worried love. “But we’re here now. You don’t have to hurt alone Nooroo. We’re your big siblings. Let us help you.” 

Nooroo just cried, his head hurting as he leaned into Plagg hard enough that he could feel Plagg’s reserve, felt the roaring ocean that made up Plagg’s, his eldest brother's power. 

And he felt safe.

(Definitely not my strongest by any means. But dude, I had been building up to this moment in the fic for months at this point, so when I think of favourite I just think of this, because I had finally reached a point I had been so so excited for.)

#ask me about a snippet of your request and i'll show you a funny text message exchange #thanks for asking! #im delaying studying for finals now! #tag this properly later

[earlgreytea68]

Hello! You recently mentioned that you were listening to Taylor Swift’s new album quite a lot, and honestly, same ))) I wanted to know what songs are your fave, obvs, but also, which ones you find more interesting, captivating, clever? Which one got the best lyrics, which one best music and rhythm? Basically, what I’m trying to say, talk Midnights to me, please :)) P.S. I almost forgot to ask, if any of the songs got you thinking of fob?)

With pleasure!!

My favorite song on Midnights is Question...? and my favorite, like, passage of Midnights is Question...?, Vigilante Shit, and Bejewelled. I adore every single one of those songs and I think that's the strongest stretch of three songs on the whole album. I have seen some hate for Bejewelled and some of its lyrics make me cringe but also like it's totally what I would want to play as an anthem to perk myself up.

I actually love all the songs on the album, except for Labyrinth, which I find a bit dull, tbh, but that happens! But this album just *moves* and it's full of great refrains and the usual perfect bridges and sometimes I think Jack Antonoff gets to be a bit too self-indulgent of his quirks (I really hate the effect on the bridge of Question...?) but mostly I love when Jack Antonoff and Taylor Swift make music together and I appreciated that this album just felt...really fun and less earnest than evermore? I love folklore, but evermore just kind of felt like too much to me, and I'm happy to be going back to having more fun.

I've listened to Question...? the most, and I was just thinking as I was listening to it tonight that I feel like it's kind of crept in to influence my Christmasfic this year, like, its attitude full of "what if"s, and that line about "I just may like to have a conversation," like, all my characters about each other hahaha they're all longing for a conversation. Idk, the relationship in Question...? just feels so instantly complex and interesting to me, like, I want to know so much more about those two people.

Sweet Nothing is kind of a theme song for all of my characters, though, I feel like every fic I write is about a Sweet Nothing kind of love.

Mastermind is totally a Mattrick song from Swan Song. It doesn't sound like a song Matt would sing or write, but it's a song Matt would *think,* if that makes sense.

In general I really appreciated how this album was Taylor kind of accepting that you've got be a bit of a schemer to be a success, which is a theme of Swan Song, too, and so it resonated with me. I mean, Anti-Hero is also very Matt Usher: One day I'll watch as you're leaving 'cause you got tired of my scheming. I like to see Taylor owning "I'm smart and that's okay."

Okay, my favorite lyric on the whole album is: I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails and the liquor in our cocktails. ...Ugh, I just love that line.

I also love, also from Mastermind, "I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian because I care," ha, makes me laugh.

Mastermind is just so tropey, she just writes a trope song so well, that's just a full story, beginning to end, and when you're done you think, ...I've read that fic and it was GREAT, Idk. Her songs can sometimes feel like an entire ship, self-contained.

"Draw the cat eye sharp enough to kill a man," is, I think, a great opening line, even though I've seen some people hating on it. I think it's great! And I also enjoy "situation-ship" as a term in Glitch. And "no one sees you lose when you're playing solitaire" from Dear Reader.

In general I like the refrain of Karma and appreciate what she's doing there but "karma is a god" just always completely throws me, it's, like, all these metaphors of what karma is and it just feels like that one could also be personal to Taylor: her cat, her boyfriend, her beautiful weekends, her relaxing thoughts....a god. Idk, it bothers me every single time I hear it lol

Okay, so, Fall Out Boy-wise. Taylor Swift is on the record that Pete Wentz is basically her favorite lyricist of all time and that she's been influenced by him, and sometimes I feel like I can sense that influence. Sometimes she does something and I think, That's a total Pete Wentz move. And sometimes it works, but sometimes I think it just doesn't work, because actually what Pete Wentz does is incredibly hard and he makes it look like just anyone can stumble into all those perfect double and triple meanings but it's really, really hard to do. So, to be unkind, that "Get it off your chest, get it off my desk" in "Lavendar Haze" reminds me of a Pete Wentz move, to take an idiom with words in common and juxtapose them (like broken hearts and broken stallions that I just wrote about). But to me it doesn't work here, I don't get it, what are you getting off your desk, why are these two things going together? Is it that you're talking about her relationship and she doesn't want it on her desk? Idk, I just feel like the juxtaposition there doesn't really add anything. She does it again in The Great War: You drew up some good faith treaties, I drew curtains closed. I feel like that one is slightly more successful.

I also appreciate when a Taylor song picks up some Pete Wentz tropes, like in Maroon when she's like "laughing with my feet in your lap like you were my closest friend," or in "You're on Your Own, Kid," with "He's gonna notice me, it's okay, we're the best of friends," yeah, Pete Wentz also is always trying to figure out if someone is his lover or his best friend lol.

Also, "don't put me in the basement when I want the penthouse of your heart" could have been the name of one of Pete Wentz's LJ entries lolololol

And High Infidelity is such a Fall Out Boy title, Pete Wentz is kicking himself he didn't think of it first

Ironically my very least favorite lyrics on the album are from her collaboration with her other favorite lyricist of all time. I just find Snow on the Beach unbearable lyric-wise, it's just...too much? Like, trying too hard the whole way through? And then culminating in lines I absolutely hate: Your eyes are flying saucers from another planet, I'm all for you like Janet. I just cannot with those two lines. So, I've always had this great fantasy of what could come of a Pete Wentz / Taylor Swift team-up and then I heard Snow on the Beach and was like, ...Idk, never mind lol

#taylor swift #midnights

[timandlucy]

hi suz! i hope the rest of your week was good!

i know what you mean about 2x05 especially, it always bothers me. i swear, on my death bed i'm gonna be like "the drew crew's treatment of nancy in 2x05 was unfair and while they "apologized" i wanted a more substantial apology, especially because nancy never forced them into anything with the agleaca" and everyone is gonna be like "okay, can you please move on from this?" lol. i agree about the wraith storyline, i think that one and nancy being lucy and ryan's daughter are the strongest storylines they had on the show and were the best executed (but regardless, the writers always managed to leave me surprised, they definitely knew what they were doing!)

i love that rep is so special to you 🧡 i love that about taylor albums; she seems to always release something when someone needs it most. what's your favorite song from rep? mine is probably call it what you want, but i always go feral when don't blame me, i did something bad, or look what you made me do come on hdsbfsdabfldsa the eras tour transition from dbm into lwymmd??? absolutely brilliant.

awwww the lakes is such a gorgeous song! i know what you mean, it makes me feel so soft and i love that. atw 10 will always be that bitch for me, it's just iconic! the great war is absolutely the nace song of all time, like holy shit they WENT THROUGH IT but they really did survive the great war 😭 every taylor song is absolutely about nace, i will not be taking questions at this time. and yes, that line of long story short absolutely makes me think of them, especially "and he feels like home" bc of "ace is my person" and timeless works so well, especially with the whole "ace will always be able to find you" thing. temperance may have put a death curse on them, but in the end she just made their connection even stronger so, joke's on you, blondie!

not state of grace for ryan and lucy i'm gonna lose it 😭😭😭😭 no but really that's so perfect for them.

i'm never sorry when asking taylor swift questions, i could talk about taylor's music all day long! i know i already asked your favorite taylor song, but what would you say are your favorites from each album? (i love asking people this question lol)

i do celebrate thanksgiving and had a nice relaxing time at home, thank you! are you looking forward to the holiday season? do you have any traditions that you're looking forward to?

lots of love, your secret sleuth 🧡🔎

Hi! My week was okay, busy, but I got some stuff done, so I'm just glad it's a new week and I can rest a bit more. How about yours?

I am so happy someone agrees. I usually always see people defending the crew, but so rarely do I see someone actually saying that their treatment was wrong and there should have been more apology for it. And yeah! The writers were great at plot twists for sure. I never saw them coming.

That's tough because rep is full of bangers! But I do also go feral for Don't Blame Me (the reputation stadium tour version is like... stuff dreams are made of). I think top spot would go to either call it what you want OR king of my heart, with honorary mention of getaway car. And I just named like half of the album. Rep is just that bitch! Also, the transition from DBM to LWYMMD was WILD. Like out of this world religious experience, 11/10, would recommend to everyone.

taylor swift truly never beating those nace shipper allegations, ykwim? Also have you noticed that this verse of long story short:

And I fell from the pedestal / Right down the rabbit hole / Long story short, it was a bad time / Pushed from the precipice / Clung to the nearest lips / Long story short, it was the wrong guy

was literally written about nace?? Fell from the pedestal - Nancy recanting her testimony against Everrett to save Ace's life. And clung to the nearest lips - Gil, Park, take your pick...

Haha well I'm glad, because I definitely, ahem, got carried away again. I'm just very passionate about taylor swift lyrics and nace okay. That's fine.

Oh, such a fun question!

Debut - gotta go with Picture to Burn, such a fun song I never get tired of singing in my car.

Fearless - The Way I Loved You (also Mr Perfectly Fine)

Speak Now - Last Kiss and Timeless

1989 - Out of the Woods (but the og, they really changed it on TV and I can't listen to that version)

reputation - call it what you want / king of my heart

lover - death by a thousand cuts

folklore - exile / illicit affairs

evermore - willow

midnights - would've could've should've / the great war

That's great! I'm glad you had a nice time ☺️ I am... not the biggest fan of the holidays 🙈 It's not usually the most fun time for me, but I am determined to make the most of it, so yeah, I'm looking forward to old Christmas songs and mulled wine and good food, and most of all, my SS gift! I'm so excited bc I feel like we're vibing and you get me, so it'll be perfect. How about you? Any fave traditions I can steal?

Lots of love to you my secret sleuth, and I your message totally made my week. Thanks for letting me ramble about taylor swift and nace.

#secretsleuthgiftexchange #idk who you are but ily

[amoveablejake]

My Five Key Songs of July 2023

Into the second half.

The song choices that will soon follow for July are a bit of an odd selection. The tracks themselves aren't odd but rather this time around there wasn't a clear front runner to be the key song of the month. In fact, all five songs seemed to have stumbled their way into the list as July was one of those months without a clear musical focus which meant that instead of five key songs, it probably should have been more like twenty. However, that is not the format and so five it is, and whilst we're here I suppose we should probably find out what those five are exactly so as a certain Italian journalist says, here we go.

First up for July, 'Angela' by Bob James.

I am starting this month's picks with what is actually the most recent discovery on the list. I had heard 'Angela' about a month ago in a show that I was watching but then in the last week or so as I have been listening to quite a few scores it seemed to crop up unexpectedly and I am so very glad that it has done. Now, I have not seen the show 'Taxi' however, I would very much like to so I think that I will need to try and track it down on DVD as it seems like the sort of show that I would really get along with. Its musical choice for the title has all but confirmed that for me as this is perhaps one of the strongest title pieces that I have ever heard and bare in mind that I am saying that without any emotional connection to the show itself, as of yet that is. Bob James' gentle 70s classic never fails to help me to relax and settle and I have found that I have been listening to it quite a lot over the past week particularly as I have been walking back from working at a few events in the city centre. It won't be the key song this time around but I think give it a few more weeks in my headphones and perhaps a viewing of the show attached to it and soon it will be one of the key players on my roster.

Second on the call list, 'Run from Tears' by Crosby, Stills and Nash.

Usually when I turn to Crosby, Stills and Nash I head straight to 'Just a Song Before I Go' which is one of my favourite songs, but over July it has been more of the case that I have been listening to 'Run From Tears'. Now, as 'Run From Tears' is also from the self titled album with one of my favourite photographs of musicians on or actually one of my favourite photographs ever adorning its cover, it makes it all the more attractive as putting this song on does mean that I get to look at that album cover again. But 'Run from Tears' is more than that. It is a track that manages to encapsulate what Crosby, Stills and Nash are as a group. It has their harmonized vocals, it has the moments of peace and gentle romanticism whilst also being able to pick up the pace and display their always stellar guitar work. The song in many ways feels funnily enough like a Neil Young track and I would very much like to have heard a version of it with Young singing the lead lyrics however, the trio still manage to make it a truly wonderful number even without their missing fourth member.

The third song for July is 'Hurdy Gurdy Man' by Donovan.

At the end of February, over the course of a couple of days I watched David Fincher's 'Zodiac' film for the first time and then a second time. Whilst ofcourse the subject matter is very disturbing and dark, I found 'Zodiac' to perhaps be Fincher's most underrated film and I think my favourite of his titles. My love affair with the 'Zodiac' film has continued as I have listened to various podcasts about it and have been thinking about it a great deal but the real legacy that it has for me is its soundtrack which features hit after hit that feel like they are the zeitgeist song of that moment within the pursuit of Zodiac themselves. Over July I have been working through the entire soundtrack so to single out one track from it is rather difficult but really I think that this time around it does have to be 'Hurdy Gurdy Man'. The sound that Donovan creates here to surround the song with this ethereal air from the outset is quite something and I don't think that I have ever heard anything like it or really ever will. It's use in 'Zodiac' is perfect, well, actually the entire film is so perhaps that isn't as strong a compliment as I want to give it but I think the point still stands.

The penultimate song for this month is 'Coral Reef' by Shigeru Suzuki.

Really, I think that this is the key song for July but this time around I have gone with a more emotional choice which we will get to in a minute. Also, I don't feel that there is any pressure to choose 'Coral Reef' now as I am sure that it will claim the top spot at some point down the line. When I stumbled across 'Pacific' it was Haruomi Hosono's name that caught my eye but now that I have listened to it again and again, it is Shigeru Suzuki who is my stand out from the record and that is most apparent through 'Coral Reef'. 'Coral Reef', I don't know what it is, there is just this quality to this song that really hits me. Its the sort of song that makes me actually stop typing as I look off into the distance to try and work out exactly what it is that I would like to stay but I'm not quite sure. On a practical level, it sounds a little like what may have inspired Dan Mason, the artist who is often floating around the top spot for my artist of the year over the last couple of trips around the sun. But really, it is more than the similarity to Mason's work. It has this quality to it of something that feels very unique, it feels of its time in Japan in 1978 and listening to it takes me to that time or rather that my vision of it. I don't know, I suppose 'Coral Reef' is my version of the beach paradise that adorns the album 'Pacific's cover, it is paradise and words can't really do it justice but the feeling that it inspires, that is enough. More than enough.

And finally, the key song for July 2023 is 'Germany, 1944' by John Williams.

'Germany, 1944' is the song that hits me the hardest from the 'Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny's score. Going into the film, I was aware that hearing the 'Raiders March' musical sting would be rather emotional as the whole viewing experience itself would be. The thing is, 'Raiders March' never truly made a full experience, instead it worked itself into a few of the tracks as a gentle nod to Williams' iconic cinematic score from 'Raiders of the Lost Ark'. And really, I think that I preferred this use of the song, it meant that on one hand 'Dial of Destiny' could be its own thing and that it was looking back at its predecessors in a respectful way rather than in one that was solely using its previous adventures to propel the story forward. When 'Germany, 1944' played and when I first heard that sting from 'Raiders March' it felt truly heroic, as Indiana Jones always does, and more than that it served as a reminder that whilst a song may not be playing all the time, it is never really gone and is always there when you listen for it out there in the Universe.

So there we have it, the key songs for July 2023 and with one month of summer left it feels like there has not been a true 'summer' pick as of yet to be the key song of the month. Maybe August will change that, we shall have to wait and see and I for one am excited for the month ahead and for the adventures it will have in store and the music that they will inspire.

-Jake, a man still looking for his own Indiana style hat, 30/07/2023