#some of the lyrics of the songs allude to those so just to be safe i tagged them afjldak

[dameronology]

last request (tasm! peter parker)

summary: based on the song last request by paolo nutini - mostly the lyrics "sure i can accept that we're go no where, so one last time let's go there"

warnings: language, very very minor alludes to smut at the end but honestly it's literally nothing, and angst!!

honestly this has been collecting dust in my drafts for about fifty years and i only just got around to editing it. enjoy <3

- jazz

It would have been a feat to admit that your relationship was over.

That took a lot of courage - and alcohol - but you and Peter Parker were nothing if not stubborn bastards. It was one thing for you to admit when something else was going wrong, but it when it was something as exponentially signifiant as clinging desperately onto the person you loved most in the world, the stakes were a little higher. Maybe if you could just hold a little tighter, for a little longer, then things would just...they would be okay. They'd be how they used to be. Not reduced to something as juvenile as the first years of your relationship from high school - flirting in physics lessons and passing notes in homeroom - but just before it was this. Before you saw the beginning of the end; before Peter felt like a stranger in your bed.

There had been a time in your life where Peter Parker wasn't just in you future, but he was your future. You could look at him see your entire world right there in front of you; tufts of soft, chocolate hair and curious brown eyes that creased with laughter at the smallest things; an iodine stained lab-coat with red-and-blue spandex ever-so-slightly poking out the top. You'd fallen in love with him when you were young and your lives had become so deeply intertwined that you were near enough one entity. Little pieces of you, and little pieces of him, flittering about in one messy, giddy existence.

College had been a breeze, somehow. If anything, that little bubble of what's next? that lead you through those four years had protected you both from questioning the future too much. It was a blessing in disguise and before you knew it, you were in your early twenties with degrees and an apartment. Peter had to learn how to do his own laundry and it had taken you the better part of three months to remember to pay rent in time. Still, it was a process you had learnt together and it only brought you closer.

Then adulthood...happened. It pulled you in a million directions; left, right, forward, back, but somehow never in the direction of Peter. Meetings and events and work calls that kept you occupied til the evening, making it home in time just to give him a quick kiss before he went out for the night. You'd leave for work just as he was stumbling back in.

Your lives had always been on the same path; it was winding and bumpy and occasionally dark and scary, but Peter was always there to hold your hand. Now, he was distant. Or maybe you were. Depends on where you stood.

Your priorities weren't the same anymore. You wanted to focus on your job and make it as far as possible; Peter had turned his attention solely to his responsibilities in the city. Your paths were diverging and you could only ignore it for so long.

So long wasn't that long at all, it turned out.

It was terrifying, actually; the way your kisses became so forced, so clinical. There were no more deep conversations about the meaning of life or where your future was headed. Now, you barely spoke a word to one another, aside from the obligatory how was your day? and stay safe!

You told yourself it was just a rough patch - all couples went through that, right? That idea made it seem temporary, at least.

If you hadn't been so certain in your soul that Peter would never stray away from being Spiderman, or that you would forfeit your dedication to your goals, then maybe you would have believed it. Maybe, just maybe, if the fate of your relationship didn't rely on the integral things that made you, you and Peter, Peter.

At some point, you'd torn away from one another. That existence you'd forged together had divulged into two and left gaping holes in the individuals it had left behind. Neither of you could heal them so as long as you tried to force yourselves back together, but it was like two puzzle pieces that no longer fit.

You could only handle so many missed plans and we'll do it next week's; missed calls and sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. The love was still there, wholly and undoubtedly, but it didn't do for much when it was a ship set to wreck. All you could do was get out and save yourself before it went down.

"I think we should break up."

Peter was innocently stood over the kitchen sink eating a pot noodle when you made the announcement. He turned to face you, noodles dangling from his mouth with wide eyes. Why had you said that? Why hadn't had you even thought of saying it.

"What?!"

"I..." you paused, trailing off. "I love you, Peter."

He tilted his head. "I'm getting mixed signals here - you're joking, right?"

"No," you shook your head. "Not about the first thing."

He threw his dinner into the sink, spindly arms reaching out for you in an attempt to grab you. You just about dodged him, stumbling back onto the sofa, foregoing any kind of dignity. That was the time in weeks he'd tried to touch you.

"You can't say something like that," Peter said. "Why would you say something like that-"

"- because it's true!" you cut him off. "Look at us, Pete. We're strangers."

"You're not funny," he replied. "This isn't funny. Don't make jokes about that stuff."

"It's not a joke," you looked him dead in the eye.

Peter dropped beside you on the sofa - his brow was creased in some sort of...smiley frown. He genuinely, wholly thought this was a joke. That you'd decided to just spice up his evening by calling an end to your relationship.

"Sure, okay," he nudged you with his elbow. "Let's break-up. I'll take the apartment, and you can take the cat."

He reached out to you, large hands splaying out on your cheek-bones as he gently leant in. You whacked them away, a sigh escaping your lips. You wanted to kiss him - you really, really did. To just fall into his arms and forget this was all happening; pretend that things were fine. It's what you'd been doing the last few months and if you continued any longer, it might finally have killed you.

"Oh my god," Peter murmured. "You're serious."

"Yeah," you softly said. "I am."

"W-why?" he stuttered. "We don't break up. Other people break up, but...it's us. That's not something we do."

"Pete," you sighed. "I know. I know. I've gone over it a thousand times in my head and if you can look around right now and tell me that we're still ourselves - still the us you mean -

"- why do we have to be that us? Can't we be a different us? Maybe this is...grown up us, the new us."

"If that's the case, then I don't want it."

"You don't want me?" Peter's voice broke and along with it, so did your heart.

"Pete...hey."

You reached out for Peter, wrapping your arms your waist. He didn't resist, even though you'd just put his heart through the shitter. Instead, he buried his head in your shoulder, clutching onto you for dear life. Maybe if he held tight enough, you wouldn't let him go.

"Just listen to me for a sec - please?" you softly asked, tangling a hand in his hair. "I will never not want you, Peter Parker. You're my entire fucking heart but we're...we're stagnant."

"Stagnant?" the world rolled off his tongue with complete disbelief. "We used to talk about the future. We have an apartment, and-"

"- used to, Pete!" you cut him off. "We used to. We're not any further along than we were five years ago. All of our friends are getting married and having kids and we're just...we just exist."

"But it's us," he shot back. "We just need each other, don't we?"

You gave him a sad smile. "We don't have each other. We haven't for a long time."

"You have me," he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands falling into your lap. "You have all of me-"

"- no, I don't!" you snapped. "The last few months, we've just been going through the motions and niceties with each other because it's all we know."

"I'll do anything," Peter continued. "You wanna have kids? I'll have ten. You wanna buy a house? I'll get the newspaper right now and look at listings. Hell, I'll move to the suburbs-"

"- stop!"

You shoved Peter off of you, brushing past him and letting him fall onto the sofa with an oof. He had only begged for one thing in his life, and that had been to the non-existent Santa Clause when he was eight years old for his mum and dad to come back. He'd felt like he was drowning then, but this pain was incomparable. It was like someone had taken his heart right out his chest and thrown it out out the window of the tenth floor.

The silence that overtook the room after your demand was thick. It weighed on your shoulders and his, threatening to force you both into the ground. The crushing realisation that you couldn't be with the man you loved had hit you like a truck. More so for Peter, who realised now what an idiot he'd been to shut you out.

Your eyes met across the room, and Peter finally nodded. Maybe it was acceptance. Maybe it was defeat. It was just...confirmation. That he knew you meant it. That he knew you were right.

And is the crushing weight of impending doom had suddenly evaporated, something in both of you snapped.

There was another moment of nothing - then he stood up and crossed the room. You met him halfway across the room, arms tangling together and lips crashing onto his. It wasn't like the last few times you'd kissed - not deadbeat, not tinged with grey misery and lacklustre love strangled by domestic bore. It was fresh and new and...it was goodbye.

Peter pulled back for a second, large hands resting on your face. "One last time, yeah?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker reader insert #peter parker angst #peter parker smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman imagines #spiderman imagine #spiderman reader insert #spiderman angst #tasm! peter parker #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm! peter parker imagines #tasm! peter parker imagine

[theprologues]

SUBMISSION - Grammys performance symbolism, part two

So, with those reservations safely out of the way, and a warning to readers NOT to hurt themselves by getting their hopes up again … 

What aspects of Taylor’s Grammy’s performance made me think there might be light at the end of the tunnel for Kaylor? 

First, Taylor’s blue and gold performance dress. “Deep blue but you painted me golden” is a line from Dancing With Our Hands Tied, a song that is widely assumed to be about the night of Kissgate. It’s a song where Taylor talks about how miserable (“deep blue”) she was after the collapse of her relationship with Diana and her public reputation in 2013. She describes how her new lover, Karlie, brought her back to life and lit her up with the glow of a new, true love. She painted her golden. But then they were caught in an intimate moment at Kissgate, and Taylor panicked. Her fears and anxieties threatened to drown her, and though she and her new lover tried to dance through the catastrophe, they eventually came to realize they were doing so with their hands tied. They had no hope of swimming to the surface together and breaking free. They could only have done so if Taylor had stood firm and owned their love in the moment, instead of setting in motion the bearding contracts that would change everything. (This is what she means when she says that “if I could dance with you again”, she would “kiss” and “hold” her lover, instead of presumably backing away. If she could do the moment over, she would claim Karlie as her lover, and hold her hand for the world to see, through hell or high water.) 

Though it’s a depressing motif in DWOHT, Taylor has, interestingly, returned to this imagery of a golden tie several times in other songs, painting it in a much more positive light. Most recently, the Willow music video explores this, visually representing the “single thread of gold that tied me to you” which Taylor sings about in Invisible String. Both IS and Willow are happy songs, which describe their lovers as being tied together by fate. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow,” Taylor sings in Willow. In DWOHT, the lovers followed each other to a place of deepest blue. The bottom of the ocean, under the waves, where they couldn’t breathe. In Willow they follow each other to freedom.

That freedom is represented in the Willow music video by the open cabin door the lovers step through at the end of the video. Taylor incorporates this door into the Willow section of her Grammy’s performance, performing first in the open doorway and then stepping through it to perform with her band out in the open. 

But returning to the blue and gold dress. This is not only a very Karlie motif which keeps recurring in her art (often to postitve effect). It’s also a representation of Taylor finding happiness WITHIN the closet. It’s talking about how her partner’s love helps her to bear the depression being in the closet, and fearing exposure, causes her. The fact that Taylor chooses to wear this dress throughout her performance, with no costume changes, suggests a) she is still in the closet, and b) she is still with Karlie, and still considers her love to be such a lifeline. 

If Toe was real and Taylor was happy with him, she could have chosen to wear an all-gold dress for the occasion. If Kaylor was over and she had decided to return to the closet, she could have communicated that by wearing all blue. If Kaylor was over and so far in the past she had moved on with someone new, there was no need to evoke the motif at all. She could simply have laid claim to another color, or worn another prairie type dress to fit the aesthetic. And yet, she didn’t. Why not, if not to communicate what I said above? 

What else is worth considering, in Taylor’s medley? Well, there’s the cabin setting. Taylor and Karlie famously took a trip to Big Sur forest and stayed in a cabin together in 2014, where Karlie was the first person to hear 1989 in full. They took many photos on the trip, including one captioned with “on the way home” (a lyric from You Are In Love, which talks about hearing love in the silence) and one of the two of them looking up at a fallen tree. A VERY similar looking tree appears in the Cardigan music video, and the slanted, moss-covered roof Taylor opens the medley lying on also looks a lot like this tree. Again, curious that she would call back to this if she and Karlie have separated.

Moving on. Taylor opens the medley singing on the roof, looking straight up into the camera. When we pull back we see the stage around set to that of a starry night. Taylor is thus cast as the romantic, the star-gazer. She also calls back to another lyric Kaylors have previously tied to Karlie - “up on the roof with a schoolgirl crush”. It’s been repeatedly tied to Karlie and Taylor’s attendance at the Victoria Secret show after-party. Again, why evoke imagery so tied to the early, happy days of this relationship? 

We then move through a progression of events that sees her hiding inside with friends, before eventually stepping out into the light. That all reads like a visual interpretation of her relationship with Karlie, from her early loneliness and lovestruck dreaming, to the happiness she finds within her little hideaway, to her eventual decision to step out of it and claim her lover. The medley ends on a repetition of “that’s my man”, seemingly hinting that Taylor’s freedom is tied up in her ability to finally say those words. 

What else? Well, there are the Ivy allusions. Taylor’s cabin covered in greenery can’t help but evoke the lyrics of Ivy - “my house of stone, your ivy grows, and now I’m covered in you”. Ivy is widely interpreted as a sapphic song about two women finding love despite their commitments to men. Another line in the song “he’s in the room, your opal eyes are all I wish to see, he wants what’s only yours” is alluded to in Taylor’s choice of opal jewelry on the night. What a weird thing to draw attention to, if you’re not secretly in love with a woman while parading a beard around in public. We’re also told in the song that “he” (possibly the same man, possibly another) wants to burn the house of the Ivy lovers down. Jerk just so happened to announce the baby’s birth on this night, in what felt like an attempt to undermine Taylor’s joy. Hmm. Curious. 

You know what else is curious? Taylor’s choice of outfit for the Grammys red carpet. Not only is the floral dress very reminiscent of a floral ensemble Karlie wore to cover a June (pride month) issue of Spanish Vogue. (Cover subtitled, “flowers of change”.) It’s also by the designer Oscar de la Renta. Taylor and Karlie famously attended one of his shows together early on in their relationship. They sat in the front row looking very cozy, while Taylor refused to answer questions about why she was there and reportedly giggled “my publicist will be mad at me”. Hmm.

Taylor has also worn Oscar de la Renta on numerous occasions while out with Karlie, including most famously at the Met Gala. That iconic pale pink gown that she was buried in the Look What You Made Me Do music video? That was an Oscar de la Renta. There are many interpretations of the scene in the video, but it’s worth noting that Taylor is buried alive in it (which could be interpreted as a metaphor for being closeted) and that in a video all about her various revenge fantasies, she depicts herself crawling back up out of this grave. She views coming back to life and walking away from the flaming wreckage of her past with Big Machine as the ultimate revenge. At the end of the video she clips her own wings while all the past iterations of her argue amongst themselves. This would seem to suggest that she can defeat her enemies but she can’t defeat herself, because she can’t outrun her past, and until then she will always be doomed to self-sabotage. Nevertheless, this Taylor (lurking in the background bedecked in peaced-out palm tree print) is in a much better position than the Taylor who opened the video as a zombie corpse. She’s on the surface and has some hope of freedome, at last. This is a theme we see carried through in the following video, where Taylor goes one-on-one against herself and eventually breaks free.

Long story short? Taylor wearing such a floral, literally blooming dress from THIS designer, of all people, suggests she may finally be about to rise again. The aborted coming out apparently planned for the Lover era (and thus seeded during the Rep era) may finally be a go? 

Again, I’m very reluctant to get people’s hopes up here. But it’s hard to look at this dress and not think of that June (Pride month) floral magazine cover. Or of the Spade riddle, “Why worry? She blooms in June.” Or of the fact that Taylor’s stunts are often loudest before the end. She acknowledged Calvin and hugged him at an awards show before he was booted out of the narrative and Tom H appeared to replace him. (Something like ten days or so after the “split”, if I remember right?) And the inconsistencies of the Toe timeline speak for themselves. There was speculation - unpopular though it was - among Kaylors in the Rep era that guessed Taylor wouldn’t come out until 2021 / 2022. It seemed a world away at the time but who knows? Maybe this was always the plan. Maybe this is all “part of the fucking story”, even the parts that seem ugly or counterproductive. A lot can change in a couple of months in Hollywood, and with Taylor in particular. By June, it’s possible we COULD be looking at a vastly different landscape. Maybe this was one last hurrah for the Toes. Many of them are just harmless fans taking Taylor at her word, after all. 

Only time will tell, and I don’t blame Kaylors for checking out. This isn’t healthy, especially for those of us who are gay ourselves, and can’t help but feel a personal connection to Taylor’s journey out of the closet. We know what a big deal it would be. But for those who still want to hope … It’s just possible Taylor has a plan, and this is the dark night before the dawn. 

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

Pro: I added the photos and the bolded parts. Love symbolism. This was truly a spectacular performance. Awesome submission anon!!

#submission #submitted by anonymous

[vlvtmnky]

no chances - scaled and icy

 okay so i did a full breakdown on this song and i figured that i should share it with you guys. hopefully you guys can help me out with this and we can bounce theories off of each other.

(btw i stole stuff from genius lyrics thats why it’s formatted like that)

these are just my personal theories don't come for my throat if you disagree with me pls it's not that deep i promise you.

okay this is gonna be kinda long so

okay my main theory is that this song is between the bishops and the banditos, possibly fighting over tyler and josh.

-----------

[Intro] We come for you, no chances We come for you, no chances

i think the really deep voices are the bishops speaking. these voices appear multiple times throughout the album and this song specifically.

they are telling tyler/josh/the banditos that they will come for them and they have no chance of escaping them

sai is propaganda directly corresponds with this because we only hear what the bishops want us to hear through tyler and josh. 

[Verse 1] In my house shoes in a foot race In this house we got feng shui Get the door to blow you away Flamethrower, you a switchblade

the only connections that i could really make with these lines is in the last one.

Flamethrower, you a switchblade

in the song levitate tyler says “ And ever since the seventh grade I learned to fire-breathe ” we know that the banditos like fire as well and use it as their main source of light at their camps. we also see that nico has a blowtorch looking thing to heat up the glass.

i cant figure out much about the switchblade part, since he might have just added it to rhyme or something but if i do i will reblog this post with what i find.

Feet planted on grip tape With my shoulders squared, and my back straight Got a good base and a loose tongue Notorious in the octagon, now

i used to take tae kwan doe, and these are just basic things that you learn while practicing, so maybe he is getting ready to fight something or someone.

Notorious in the octagon, now

okay i might be reaching with this one but hear me out. how many sides does an octagon have? eight right? okay how many bishops are there (minus nico)? eight, that’s correct. also when you look at the city of dema 

if you look the right way those little buildings around the center nine, are divided into four sets of two or whatever. this image is a bad example but i don't care enough to look for the right one LMAO.

anyways, to the point. i think notorious in the octagon is a reference to how well know tyler would be in dema, since they all know about twenty one pilots because of the feature performance event.

[Chorus] 

 We got people on the way We want you home in one piece now (Run away, run away)

i think this is actually the banditos trying to reach tyler and josh, not the bishops. why would the bishops tell tyler to run away? they already have him. I also think that home for tyler and josh is with the banditos, not the confines of dema.

the banditos are also telling tyler and josh that they have people on the way to come and save them like they went to save tyler in NATN.

it could be the banditos but i severely doubt it because it is tyler singing and not the deep voice symbolizing the bishops.

We get bodies every day We want you home in one piece now

okay the bodies everyday part is throwing me off but my best guess is that they may be talking about clancy. we know that scaled and icy is an anagram for clancy is dead, so this could be alluding to that. they could also be talking about the residents of dema that lose their fights in dema and pass away.

“we want you home in one piece” again i think that this is the banditos telling tyler to come home with josh safely and to avoid trouble as best as they can while doing so.

[Verse 2] How'd you get the location? Put together pieces? They say they sell the information In those terms of agreement

this could be about the banditos or the bishops. let me explain.

if it was from the banditos they could be asking the bishops how they got the location of their camp to snatch tyler (levitate music video) in the first place since they cannot see the color yellow. 

maybe the banditos sell the information on the bishops and other things to the people trapped in dema (or possibly others???) 

if it was the bishops they could be asking the banditos how they get the locations of the residents and how they know to get into dema in the first place.

maybe a dema resident sells information to the banditos (like clancy? we know keons is the nicest bishop from his letters) 

We spent some weekends on the grind Surveillances outside, we see when you arrive

this could connect to the outside. we know that the bishops have some sort of surveillance system because on the control center for the live stream it is set up like an old fashioned surveillance system. (i will do a breakdown on that too)

maybe the bishops are telling the banditos they see when they arrive because of said security system.

Ride or die, my son

reminds me of the song ride, whos bishop is listo. so he could be talking to one of his subjects. this could be any bishop really i think that its the bishops and not the banditos because the second time that they repeat this it’s in that super low voice that definitely signifies the bishops speaking.

- from then it is just the chorus and the outro which is the same as the intro.

----------

anyways that was just my take on the song, feel free to let me know what you think i love hearing other’s theories. 

i will also be doing this for all the songs on scaled and icy and may do it for some on trench and how they correspond to sai. 

i will definitely do other theories and breakdowns because i really enjoy going through everything and piecing it all together. as i work ill make a master post and a tag so you can search my account for it and find it easy.

i will also break down the live but that will take longer because its literally over an hour long and not a three minute song lololol.

(p.s. i dont care enough to proof read this because i just watched the live and im tired)

#twenty one pilots #scaled and icy #trench #scaled and icy songs #dema #nico #listo #keons #clancy #clancy is dead #banditos #bandito #dma #dmaorg #tyler joseph #josh dun #no chances #i already did redecorate i just need to type it out #have fun with this it took forever do i regret it? no #honestly it was kinda fun #i will be listing to redecorate on loop now #also ill edit this as i find mistakes #no beta we die like men

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

can you give me drowsy headcanons, ramble, or anything please, i am so deprived. do not be afraid to make it super long, the more the better, i just love drowsy chaperone and love to hear other people (plus you’re one of the only people i’ve seen who knows a lot abt it)

ASK AND YE SHALL RECIEVE

I’ll divide this into a few different parts, going from least to most excruciatingly sad :)

1. general headcanons

2. in canon things i noticed and think about daily

3. a full analysis of man in chair’s connections with the drowsy chaperone as an in universe show (trigger warning for abuse ment, alcoholism ment, suicide ment)

SECTION ONE: HEADCANONS

- okay the chaperone is trans I don’t make the rules

- also her name is ambrosia :) she forsook her last name :)

- she’s about 12 years older than janet and kinda hung with janet’s family after leaving her own for a while . essentially she’s a big sister to janet

- aldolpho has some lines where he asks if the bride is big and/or burly and while in canon this is supposed to show he’s kind of a womanizer I like to believe it’s because he was fully prepared to fight her if needed

- speaking of which Of Course janet is ripped she does gymnastics

- my batshit crazy headcanon for this show is that dee dee allen from the prom is a descendant of roman bartelli no I will not elaborate

- is aldolpho one of those bitches with pets that definitely shouldn’t be legal? yessir

- post show kitty becomes a star okay I just want her to be happy

- the “pastry chefs” do discover a love of baking post show and now run a shop along with performing in feldzeig’s follies which might maybe be a front for some crime too

- TRIX DROWSY AND ALDOLPHO WORLD TRAVELING POLYCULE CAUSING PROBLEMS ON PURPOSE

- underling’s name is james I will not elaborate on this either

- show never says what trix does so I’ve decided she’s an explorer. she charts maps and punches colonialists and drags her stupid friends along with her, the only bitch in the show with a braincell

- drowsy was a former vaudeville child star pre transition - she left the business but was a mentor to janet

- I do have a headcanon for mic’s name but in the spirit of every actor who’s ever played him I won’t fucking tell

SECTION TWO: SHIT I NOTICED

- robert refers to himself by full name a lot of the time which is v interesting given he’s named after the writer, bob martin (whose wife is also named janet van de graaf). the real bob martin is like five feet away at all times playing mic

- idk how to describe it but the dynamic kitty and feldzeig (VICTOR felgzeig. we have a name from one (1) line) have when talking to each other is so snappy and funny and good

- aldolpho’s lines in spanish are mostly romantic bullshit but his first one hints that he has/had a wife who, if we’re taking the translation literally, refused to touch him. yeah I’ll bring this up in analysis

- the “pastry chefs” provide liquor for the wedding even though it has absolutely no relevance to their mission of stopping it :)

- drowsy is like. SUPER endearing towards janet and despite her bad social skills it’s super clear she cares a lot about her

- robert speaks fluent french apparently

- everyone says “ew” after aldolpho reveals his affair with drowsy despite her being a certified milf

- the body language of drowsy in the end of the show where she takes mic’s hands and breaks the barrier between reality and fiction is just so good. she was iconic the whole show but I honestly think this final bit is what won beth leavel the Tony in the end

SECTION THREE: OH NO

before diving into the way the drowsy chaperone affects his character, we need to understand what exactly it’s playing off of. to fully understand mic’s attachment to the drowsy chaperone, we need to outline what led him to isolating himself and living in fiction to the extent that he does.

mic’s father left his family at an early age and his semi estranged alcoholic mother was the one who began his love for theatre. mic grew up in a broken household and eventually moved on to land in a one sided marriage, which lasted a few months until he slipped up and expressed his discomfort with the situation, after which he and his wife split. nowadays, he lives alone in his apartment surrounded by records he uses to escape to a better life - his favorite of which being the one his mother gave him, the drowsy chaperone.

symbolism in the drowsy chaperone regarding mic’s life can be split into two main categories - mommy issues and internalized homophobia. there isn’t nearly as much mom symbolism as there is the latter, so I’ll cover that first.

drowsy covers both bases, but she definitely has some undeniable mom symbolism going on. drowsy marries aldolpho and mom dreams of being swept off her feet by a latin lover, both feel they’ve wasted their chances at love, both drink to forget, etc. this is where the idea of the drowsy chaperone being mic’s ideal way for things to work out, a positive parallel, comes into play. given that we don’t hear too much about mic’s mom other than her connections to major life events and the record itself, we can assume they grew apart in one way or another. the key difference is that drowsy finds a happy relationship for herself and retains her bond with janet, unlike what we’re led to assume mom was like.

further elaborating on the drowsy chaperone representing mic’s ideal fantasy version of events is the wedding the drowsy chaperone’s plot centers around. here’s a list of the things that didn’t stop that damn wedding:

- a minister not showing up

- the groom cheating on the bride with the bride

- the bride having a complete mental breakdown

- indirect mafia interference

- direct mafia interference

on the flip side, what little mic says about his wedding indicates it sucked absolute ass. he spent the entire ceremony in internal distress as he went through with a life changing event he, at that point, knew at least a bit that he didn’t want. I think he also implies he had severe diarrhea on the wedding day? it gets worse when you realize mic’s relationship before the wedding wasn’t any good for him either - he was playing along the whole time because it would be cruel not to, right?

throughout the show, mic is pretty clearly shown as an extremely repressed gay man. there are five specific instances that point at romantic and/or sexual attraction to men directly and another moment outside of his commentary that pretty much confirms it if you look a little bit deeper. thus, here is what I propose - to mic, the drowsy chaperone’s wedding plot represents a world where he was able to ignore that part of himself and have a happy marriage with his wife despite all the overwhelming obstacles thrown at him. however, bits and pieces of that internalized homophobia manage to show themselves throughout the drowsy chaperone anyway despite its happy ending. here’s a rundown on a few significant instances:

- by the end of the show, the “pastry chefs”, who had literally been planning to kill feldzeig, have left their life of crime to perform with him. this symbolizes how in mic’s ideal world he would have been able to turn away from what he perceived at the time as living wrongly - his homosexuality

- at the same time, the “pastry chefs” have this line, spoken in regards to janet: “if she gets married and leaves the show... there ain’t no show.” this is a take on mic’s subconscious concern that he might lose himself if he goes on with his marriage pretending everything is alright - of course, as we already know, he doesn’t listen

- “cold feets” is a pretty obvious instance of mic’s hesitation

- aldolpho’s line in spanish regarding the wife who won’t touch him flips to reflect on mic’s treatment of his own ex wife - she was alien to him as a lover, just as aldolpho was to this woman

- janet recalls her meeting robert at a point in the show and states “we spooned, briefly, then he proposed.” though mic’s relationship pre marriage was much longer than that, it must have felt that way to him - just as quick and nonsensical as janet describes

- just as janet is caught in showbiz but has a toxic love for it, so does mic with his own repressed life

- janet has a line in “show off” that alludes to her experiencing harassment/assault: “I don’t wanna be cheered no more/ praised no more/ grabbed no more/ touched no more/ loved no more” , which I believe represents the way mic perceived his intimacy with his wife - labeled as love yet unenjoyable for him

- “I look into his eyes... I get all woozy. and that’s... love, isn’t it?” is another very clear nod to mic’s misconception of love based off the only thing he’s ever experienced, relationships with women he’s had to fake

- this is the part where I tell you the lyrics to toledo surprise are a metaphor for actively suppressing gay thoughts. I’ll just leave you with “if it tries to rise; don’t let it”. these lyrics are not comprehensive enough to make a dish - trust me, I have tried. it’s also notable that they serve a double entendre as instructions on how to beat the shit out of someone, but several lyrics are also directed towards the singer/audience. for example: “it’s a snap/ try it folks/ whip your whites/ split your yolks” is an easy metaphor for the unhealthy mental gymnastics required to repress oneself so wholeheartedly

it’s also worth noting the obvious just for the sake of it - mic copes with all this by isolating himself in a safe spot where he can use musicals to escape and live his ideal fantasy, even if it’s only for a short time. there are plenty of nods to this throughout the drowsy chaperone as well. in “as we stumble along” drowsy notes that “the best that we can do is hope a bluebird/ will sing a song/ as we stumble along” - to mic, musicals are his bluebird. while mic mostly indulges in these fantasies, he knows to a certain extent the sheer amount of time he’s spending in them is unhealthy. the first line of the show is “I hate theatre” and I think that to an extent? he does. obviously mic loves theatre as a concept, that can’t be denied. what he hates is the way he’s allowed it to confine him.

with all that out of the way, let’s move on to the most important moment of the show. if you’ve ever seen the show, you’ll know exactly which scene I’m talking about immediately. I’m referring to, of course, the infamous “l-ve while you can” scene. as janet stands at the alter she asks drowsy for one final word of advice, which is partially obscured by aldolpho dropping his cane. “l-ve while you can.” it’s a simple moment, but mic reveals to us that he’s been agonizing over it for years - did drowsy say “live” or “leave”? it occurs to everyone eventually, whether a couple days after the show like with me, or years after like with bob martin’s replacement on broadway that the most likely answer is that she had said “love while you can”. it’s this moment, when you realize why mic had never seen that as an option, that the drowsy chaperone’s status as a musical within a comedy within a tragedy is solidified. mic had no love in his life - his parents hated each other and he was forcing himself into relationships in which he felt nothing. to him, living and leaving were options, but loving never was. so he locked himself away.

as the final note on the record is playing, all power in mic’s apartment shuts down and the fantasy is ruined. the superintendent arrives and further invades his space, breaking the private sanctity he had built up for so long. she fixes the power and before mic can stop it from happening, the final note of the record plays. and the super recognizes it as a musical. she makes a remark about how much her wife loves musicals and leaves, completely unaware of what she’s just done.

mic sits in silence for a while. and then he begins to sing. gradually, the cast members begin to echo their songs, dancing around him but never touching him. then drowsy appears and sings harmony to mic. and she takes his hands. the show ends with the entire cast, including mic, taking off on trix’s airplane as the curtain falls, drowsy handing mic his record as the plane takes off.

some people interpret the ending as mic committing suicide, finally deciding between live and leave. I don’t personally believe that and neither does writer and original mic bob martin, but it’s still a valid interpretation. the drowsy chaperone’s ending is ambiguous, yes, but not to that extent. no matter what you believe the ending means, it was brought on not by the interruption of the fantasy, but by whatever realization the super’s remark about her wife triggered. as I see it, there are two main options here.

option one - mic realizes he still has time to live and to love. when he was younger the prospect of living as himself was unthinkable to him, yet now he sees that while he was spending countless years alone the world grew. drowsy offers mic her hand, an invitation to finally become what he had admired in her - someone who isn’t anywhere near perfect, but is damn well trying and living life without regret. he accepts.

option two - mic realizes that while he spent years alone the world moved on without him and he’s isolated himself so much from social interaction that he’d no longer be able to make a meaningful connection with anyone outside. so he stays inside instead, never trying, always trapped between live and leave. drowsy offers mic her hand - at least he’ll have a tune to carry with him.

I really want to believe we got option one. I think option one is the intended, really, given mic ends the show with a joyful goodbye to the audience. but the way that the ending is still left open for interpretation makes it so that we can never really know - we as the audience only get to be privy to a small part of mic’s life, and we don’t get the answers we want because at the end of the day they’re irrelevant to us - all we can do is make our own choice.

#the drowsy chaperone #musical theatre #musicals #broadway #musical meta #man in chair

[theprophetsaid]

I’M SCARED - ANALYSIS

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

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

Part I: This is personal 

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

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

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

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

Edit / addition:

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

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

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

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

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

—

Part II: The Story

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brian is singing about a man. 

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

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

Edit / Section changed due to new interpretation:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Edit / section changed due to new interpretation:

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

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

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

The Hidden Lyric:

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

So the hidden lyric is:

I’m scared (Maybe I’m wrong!)

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

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

—

Section III: The Melody

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

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

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

—

Final Thoughts:

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

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

#let's be honest i could write a thesis on this song #not tagging this post because i don't think i should put it in the tags #but please feel free to reblog and like and comment if you want :) #or better yet: send me a message so i can ramble about it more #my analysis // #edited: 8/12/2021

[lonelyreputation]

Different (part two)

A/N: Surprise!! I’m posting earlier than I thought I would! And we’re back with the angst!! Straight angst! Like literally all of this is angst there’s nothing else. Also! I just started a tag list, so send me a message if you want to be added!!

Don’t we all just love some unrequited love?? 💞 💖

Also, your support has been so tremendous, thank you guys all so much, I love you to the moon and to Saturn 😉 💫 THANKS A MILLION! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 🤗💞🌻

REQUEST/PROMPT: People talking a room away & Fighting the urge to cry & Unrequited Love 

Part ONE | Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words, some self-doubt, and ANGST!!!

Word Count: 5.7K

Shawn’s texts are bold and italicized & your texts are in italics 

-

You promptly left the party, the broken glass left unattended on the floor, and silently cried the whole way back to your apartment with your arms hugging tight around your stomach.

Opening the door to your apartment wasn’t an easy task.  Tears clouded your vision as you fumbled to find the right key to open the door.  You had bit the inside of your cheek repeatedly on the walk home causing you to taste metallic every time you swallowed back a sob.  Your chin wobbled, and just when you were about to give up and sit out in the hallway to cry, your roommate opened the door with a questioning look.

“How was the…party?”

She’s different––She’s just a friend––I don’t love her.

You brushed past her, “Fantastic.” You said as a few more tears fell from your eyes and your voice cracked.

She seemed to have caught the sarcasm behind your voice that alluded to the party being anything but fantastic.  Your bloodshot eyes and wobbly chin also gave her a good indication that you left the party early.

There weren’t anymore words exchanged between the two of you as you quickly walked to your room to finally break down.  You held a hand to your chest, clutching your necklace, a birthday present from Shawn, in a fist as you gasped out for air.

You’re different.  You’re just a friend.  He doesn’t love you.

You had a hand on the handle of your bathroom door as you harshly banged against it with your shoulder to open it wide.  Once the door was closed, and you felt safe from the world around you, as you leaned up against the door and let out a cry of desperation.  You were so sure that Shawn was the love of your life.  You were positive that he had felt something––maybe not love––but some type of feelings for you that were stronger than friendship.

You slid down the door until you were sitting on the cold tiles, the only thing giving you a feeling other than absolute heartbreak.  You tried your best to keep your cries quiet, clenching your teeth and hissing out a breath every now and then in order not to draw anymore attention from your roommate.  You could physically feel your chest caving in on your heart.

The necklace that was still being held tightly in your hand burned your exposed skin.  Hastily, you unclasped it from your neck, and heard the little dink of a sound as the soft metal material of the necklace collided against the tile.

You bent your knees and hugged your legs close to your chest, failing at sniffling back your sobs as you rested your forehead on top of your knees.  You were second guessing every interaction you had with Shawn; the soft smiles from across a crowded room, him randomly sending you flowers when he knew you were stressed, how he touched you only a few hours ago.

Who said anything about love?

You tried to hold back something between a sob and a shout as you heard Brian’s question repeat over and over in your head.  You felt hot all over your body, and most of all, you felt like a fool for listening to Olivia’s advice about confessing your true feelings to your best friend.  The back of your head started to throb and the ache of your breaking heart was having a tortuous physical effect on the rest of your body.

Buzz.  Buzz.

You lifted your head to see your phone vibrating against the tile, moving ever so slightly with every ring.  A new wave of tears started to fall over as you saw Shawn’s contact picture; a picture you took of him asleep on the couch after the first time you watched 10 Things I Hate About You.  You let the call go unanswered.  Once you saw his picture disappear, you let out a shaky breath, but it didn’t last long because his picture showed up on your phone again.

You screened his call again.

Thankfully, he didn’t try calling you again, but your phone continued to buzz indicating that a few text messages were being received.  You bit your lip as you brought your arm up to your nose to wipe away the excess of tears that mixed with your runny nose and read the text messages.

Where are you? I came back to the kitchen and didn’t see you?

Are you still here? Y/n?

Liv just told me you were feeling sick, do you need anything? I can come around tomorrow morning. Love you & hope you feel better xx

Just like your necklace, you slid your phone across the bathroom tile for it to be as far away from you.

Love you? The malicious part of your brain spoke up, ha.  He even said it himself, he’s never loved you.

And again, the sane part of your mind didn’t have a rebuttal.

///

It had been five days since you eavesdropped on Shawn and Brian’s conversation.  Five days since Shawn said he didn’t love you.  Five dreadfully long days since your best friend broke your heart and you had to pretend like everything was fine.

Everything was not fine.

On the first day, you left his texts unanswered and told your roommate to turn him away if he showed up at your door.  Day two, you respond to his texts saying you had a migraine and couldn’t look at any bright lights, your excuse for not responding to any of his messages.  Day three, he came over to your apartment with pizza, two big fuzzy blankets, and your favorite Pixar movie because, you always watch Pixar when you’re feeling sick, I know you, he said.  

I know you; but he didn’t know that you were purposefully avoiding him.    

On day four, you were back over at Shawn’s apartment with Brian.  Like you had done earlier when Shawn had just come home from tour, the three of you were out on his deck with the fire going. Brian was in the single chair again while you and Shawn were sharing the couch.  Except this time, your head wasn’t nestled into his chest, you were sitting on the complete opposite end with your feet tucked under you.

Brian and Shawn both had alcoholic drinks of their choice while you had a glass of water.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

“So, Shawn,” Brian quickly looked over at you for a brief moment before he looked at the boy in question, “Write any good songs?”

You wrapped the blanket tighter around your body, using it as a shield for whatever his answer would be, as you took a sip of your water.  You stared at the CN Tower, pretending like you weren’t interested in their conversation.

You felt Shawn’s eyes glance at your figure for a second before he took a sip of his drink and nodded, “A few.”

“Oh c’mon,” Brian let out a little laugh as he looked at you until you gave him a roll of his eyes, “It’s just us––It’s not like we’re gonna leak them.”

“Y/n heard one of them.”

Brian raised his eyebrows, “Did she now?”  

They both expected you to give your input, but you stayed silent, pretending to be enamored with the city lights.

When Brian noticed that his two best friends weren’t going to say anything, he cleared his throat, “And what did you think of it?”

With a question directed at you, you knew you couldn’t avoid contributing to any part of the conversation any longer.  You shot Brian a glare, as you took a sip of water to stall some time, “It was nice.”

Brian threw his head back in laughter at your simple answer and Shawn stared at you with a questioning tilt of his head.  You knew that he was thinking back to your taco night when he nervously played the song for you.  Where you praised him for his songwriting abilities and said it was your favorite song he had ever written.  But the more you thought back on that night, the more you noticed how distracted he was.  

He didn’t want to mix the spices, and while you measured the different seasonings, you would glance up at him to see his thumbs rapidly moving across the screen of his phone.  You remember asking him what was so important on his phone when you caught him smiling down at it.  And he didn’t tell you any specific stories from when he was on tour, which were always a topic of discussion on taco night. He specifically brushed away your questions about Los Angeles.  

“There would be a million girls out there who would die to listen to an unreleased Shawn Mendes song and all you say is that it’s nice?”

You shrugged your shoulders and took another sip of water, hoping it would ease the familiar scratchiness at the back of your throat, “Yeah.”

Just thinking about the song that was so clearly written for you made you want to cry like you did that night you found out Shawn didn’t love you.  When you first heard the song, you wanted that sweet guitar melody ingrained in your mind forever.  You wanted those lyrics tattooed somewhere on your body that was only visible to you.  He had sung about having a different kind of love for you.

Different.

You finished your water and excused yourself to get a refill with a sniffle as you went into his kitchen, wiping away a few stubborn tears that fell.

But the fifth day…The fifth day was worse than the day you overheard Shawn say he didn’t love you.

You were out grocery shopping when you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.  Unlocking it, you saw a text from Shawn; Busy?

Out food shopping, you texted back, everything alright?

I’m bored.

You let out a small laugh at his response, pushing your cart out of the aisle you were in and stood off to the side, not wanting to disrupt anyone’s shopping habits.

Poor you, you texted back, I’m sure you’re really missing the tour life right now.

Nah, he texted back instantly, just missing you.

Your heart soared with happiness, but only for a split second.  He didn’t see you in the same way you saw him.  He didn’t look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.  He didn’t think of you as being someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

With a frown, your thumbs moved quickly across the screen, Boo hoo.

:(

Come over.

You weren’t expecting him to be so direct.  You hadn’t hung out alone since taco night and you weren’t sure you were strong enough to keep your composure together.

And don’t say you’re busy.

You only go food shopping when you have absolutely nothing to do.

Your thumbs stopped typing out your response.  Maybe, you thought to yourself, just maybe he does know you as well as you knew him.

Let me check out and drop the bags off at my place then I’ll head over.

:)

You felt your stomach churn with anxiety as you stared at the lone smiley face.  He usually texted with emojis, so you knew something was off when he was using simple keyboard emoticons.  It only made you that much more nervous to be alone with him.  

It didn’t take long to finish gathering what you needed and then headed to check out.  You didn’t have too much stuff, so it was easy to carry your reusable bags from the store front to the car without your cart.  Once your bags were placed in the back, and you were in the driver’s seat, you placed both hands on the steering wheel, gripping the leather material until your knuckles turned a few shades lighter than your skin tone, letting out a deep breath.

You told yourself you didn’t have a reason to be nervous.  Deep breath in.  You were the one who had the problem with Shawn, not the other way around, he didn't know you were in love with him.  Deep breath out.

Turning the key in your car took a little more effort than normal because you could feel your stomach tell you not to go over to Shawn’s place.  Your gut had a feeling that something wasn’t right.  But he was still your best friend, you still loved him, and you would do anything to have him in your life.

You drove home, quickly placing your groceries away, and then walked over to Shawn’s apartment.  Sure, it would’ve been easier to drive, but you couldn’t pass up the sweet summer air that whisked down the streets of Toronto.

Are you still coming?

A smile crept onto your face as you sent him an eye roll emoji, At the corner waiting to cross the street.  Be there in five.

:)

Instead of your stomach flipping with summersaults, it flipped with anxiety.  You shook your hands to free yourself of the nerves you felt inside, and smiled at the doorman who greeted you by name.  You made your way to the elevator, pressing the button to Shawn’s floor.  

You were always bouncing with excitement riding the elevator up to Shawn’s place because it meant that you were going to see him.  But now your leg bounced with anxiety and the ride up seemed to take hours.

Once on the floor, you made the journey to Shawn’s door, and before you could knock, Shawn swung open the door with a smile on his face.  You couldn’t even get a greeting out as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, leaning his cheek on top of your head.

You felt the familiar feeling of warmth that you associated with him as you felt his heartbeat. Out of instinct, you brought your arms around his torso and hugged him back just as tightly, breathing in his scent.

“C’mon,” Shawn squeezed you tight one last time before unraveling his arms from around you, letting his hand graze your down your arm to your hand where he intertwined your fingers, “Brian will be here in like an hour and I want you to myself for a bit.”

With your hand in his, he pulled you inside his apartment and you looked at the back of his head like he was leading you to an eternity of happiness.  As he pulled you past the kitchen and into the living room, he peered over his shoulder and offered you a shy smile.

Oh yes, you thought to yourself, you were still hopelessly in love with him; ready to bend yourself however which way just to see him smile.

He flopped onto the couch, with you standing above him, but with a gentle tug of your hand, you were falling into his chest with a laugh.  You placed a hand on his chest, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin through his cotton t-shirt seep into you.  You looked up at him through your eyelashes, his chest still vibrating with laughter, and you thought that even though he might like someone else, he may just love you.

“Wanna watch La La Land?”

His question brought you out of your daydream, “I thought you didn’t like the ending?”

Shawn shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the remote, the movie already queued up, “Haven’t seen it in a while.”

You slowly nodded your head, using your hand that was on his chest to push yourself off him.  But he caught your wrist in his hand, “Stay.”

With a smile slowly tugging at the corners of your lips, you nodded and laid your head on his chest, sliding your legs between his, as you felt his heartbeat accelerate. Around thirty minutes into the film, you felt Shawn bring one of his hands up to your head, softly running the tips of his fingers over your hair.

It was the little gestures that made you fall in love with your best friend.  How he always managed to relax you with a hand on your shoulder.  How he would listen intently over the phone when he was hundreds of miles away.  And how when you would be out on a date, he would call you after texting him your codeword for an excuse to leave.  But even if the date was going well, you would still text him to call, because he wasn’t the one sitting across from you.

As if you had plunged head first into the ocean, thoughts were swimming around in your mind;  his touches were comforting––you felt a spark tingle its way through your veins every time he touched you––you were never afraid to be yourself around him.

But soon the thoughts that made you feel like you were floating above the surface, suddenly swallowed you whole, and the thoughts only got worse, feeling as if you were thrashing around the water, reaching your hands up to break through to the surface; this is all you’ll ever be to him––You won’t ever have the joy of graduating to something more––Soon his gentle touches and soft eyes will be reserved for someone else––Someone he’s capable of loving––He’ll never want you in the way you want him.

As he repeated his movements of touching your hair, as if he didn’t give it a second thought, it was the only thing you were capable of giving your full attention to. The warmth you usually felt now felt like a burning sensation as it spread like a wildfire throughout your body.

You lifted your head from his chest abruptly before his hand could caress your hair once more.  Shawn was startled by your sudden movement and looked up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I––Sorry, I––” you felt your chin wobble and you knew that you had to get away from him, “I have––I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You untangled your legs from his as you stumbled to get up, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth when your back was to him.  You could hear his distant voice asking if you wanted him to pause the film as you skidded across his floor to the bathroom.  You didn’t bother replying to him, already knowing how the film played out.

You tried to even out your breathing, soft gasps emitting from your lips as to not alert Shawn that you were having a breakdown in his bathroom.  You thought you could be friends with him, you were trying everything to keep him in your life, but it was taking too much of a toll on your feelings.

He loves you like a best friend, the rational part of your brain tried to make sense of your heartbreak.

But that’s not enough, the irrational part of your mind yelled over its counterpart, you’ll never be enough.

Your hands gripped the granite countertop so tight that your knuckles turned a few shades lighter than your original skin tone.  The coolness of the granite didn’t do anything to soothe the leftover burning you felt course through your veins from Shawn’s touches.  You lifted your head to look in the mirror and noticed that the reflection of the girl looking back at you was a heartbroken stranger.

Turning the sink on, you ran your hands under the cold water, cupping your hands under the faucet and splashing your face with water to cover up the redness of your eyes.  You grabbed a towel from the rack hanging on the wall after you had shut the water off and dried your hands.  You didn’t think you could last through the rest of the movie without breaking down, so you turned on your heel and opened the door, prepared to tell Shawn you had a headache and wanted to go home.  

But when you opened the door, you were met with Shawn leaning against the wall across the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, with a concerned, yet irked, look in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

HIs question was direct, and you had the truth banging from the inside of your skull, begging to be released; I love you––I want to be more than best friends––It’s killing me to not tell you how I feel––But I know you don’t love me.

“Nothing,” you tried to squash your thoughts, but it only made your headache hurt more, “Listen, I––”

“Why aren’t you wearing your necklace?”

Another direct question that left you speechless.  You slowly brought your hand up to your chest, fingers resting just beneath your collarbone, where your necklace had taken up a home everyday since Shawn gave it to you four years ago.

“I forgot––I forgot to put it on this morning.”

“I know you sleep with it on,” Shawn’s voice was monotone as he deflected your excuses and shot you another direct question, “Why’d you take it off?”

A flashback of you ripping the necklace off your skin and throwing it across your bathroom as tears heavily flowed down your face flashed through your mind.  The sound it made as it hit the tile floor echoing in your thoughts.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress the heartbreak you felt on that night down, “You’re delusional, if you’re so sure I sleep with it on––”

“Y/n,” his voice was dangerously low, “Why did you take the necklace off.”

His jaw was clenched to hold back his rage of anger.  And your jaw was clenched to hold back your waterfall of tears.

“Because I did,” you scoffed at Shawn, sending him a glare, as you walked past him, “It’s just a necklace.”

It’s more than a necklace, the rational part of your mind whispered, both of you know that it’s so much more than just a necklace.

The irrational part of your brain stayed mute.

Before you could successfully make it down the hallway, Shawn circled a hand around your wrist, “Don’t feed me that bull––”

You were fed up with him.  You were fed up with his teasing touches, fed up with the caring words he whispered to you in secret, fed up with how he thought he knew you better than anyone else.  Because if he really knew you––knew how your heart beat faster just for him––then you wouldn’t be in this position.

You ripped your wrist out of his hold and spun around, “Shawn, I love you!”

Your tone was scathing, but at the same time it was a cry for help.  And the only person who would be able to offer you assistance was frozen to the ground, lips slightly parted, but his eyes stayed the same.  You expected his eyes to be wide in shock, you expected him to be thrown off by your statement, but he didn’t seem fazed.

“I––I’ve loved you for so long and I can’t––Everything just hurts,” your voice cracked at the end of your sentence, as your eyes maintained contact with the boy who you would give everything up for, “You act like you know me, but if you really did, then you’d know how much my heart is breaking whenever I’m around you.”

You already knew that he didn’t love back, you had already gone through this heartbreak, but seeing him trying to figure out the words that would no doubt ruin your friendship, it was as if your first heartbreak felt like a little scrape on the knee.

He brought both hands up to rub his face, taking in a deep breath, as he looked up toward the ceiling, “Y/n,” his voice was strained, but not in the way you felt your throat closing up from the threat of tears, he was holding back resentment, “That––Can’t––You don’t love me––Not––Not like…That.”

Without any remorse, it was as if he had ripped your heart apart like you were just a piece of scrap paper with lyrics he didn’t think were good enough.  Not good enough, your mind echoed, you’re not good enough for him.

He had already witnessed you confiding your deepest secret to him.  And you didn’t think he deserved to witness the aftermath of your world crumbling.

You understood what the collapse of the Roman Empire must’ve felt like.

Tears were already falling fast down your cheeks, and you spun around, not bothering to say anything else to him because he didn’t warrant any more of your words after he so carelessly threw away your confession.

You made it to his kitchen when you heard his pleading voice, “Wait––” And when you felt the fire of his skin on your skin, it was a pain you never wanted to experience again.

Before he could enclose his hand around your wrist for a third time today, you snatched your arm away, cradling your wrist into your chest like you were trying to heal a wound.  You had an internal wound that you didn’t think would go away any time soon.

“If you can’t––If you don’t want to be with me,” You choked out a sob as you stared into his brown eyes; it was the first time you saw genuine heartbreak in his eyes.  And part of you was glad that he was experiencing a fraction of the pain he put you through over the past five days, “I can’t…we can’t be friends.”

His exasperated exterior fell just as fast as his face, “Don’t say that,” he took a few steps forward and reached out a hand, but stopped it mid-way and left it hanging in the air, knowing you would push him away again, “You don’t mean that––”

“I––Shawn, I can’t––” your voice was high-pitched as your bottom lip quivered, the reality of the situation becoming all too real for the both of you, “It’s been so hard these past few years––”

“Years?”

You ignored his question as another one of your secrets slipped past your trembling lips, “It’s just too––too hard right now,” you hiccuped, “I need–sp––space.”

“But I––I just got you back––You’re my best friend.  I don’t want space from you.”

You did your best to ignore the tears welling up in the corner of his eyes as you tasted your own salty tears as you spoke, “You have Brian––”

“Don’t,” his voice was rigid as the first of his tears fell from his eyes.  He harshly brushed the top of his palm across his cheek to rid himself of his falling tears.  But the more he kept wiping away his tears, more fell from his eyes, “You know that our friendship is different than what we have with anyone else.”

“Exactly!” You threw your hands up in the air, letting out a humorless laugh, “It’s different because we’re different!  We’re different around each other because there’s something more between us––”

“We’re just friends!” Shawn raised his voice over yours.  

It was silent after that as you tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum, gulping your emotions down your cracked throat.  You had made your feelings about him clear.  And he had made his feelings about you clear; friends.  Just friends.

“What,” he smacked his lips together, his next question coming out in a whisper, “What did I do wrong to make you think of me––of us––to be more than friends?”

What did he not do? That was the real question that had been floating around your head for years.  How could you not fall in love with the cadence of his voice?  How could you resist the invisible pull you felt toward him that only grew stronger since the first time you said hello?  How could you refuse to let yourself fall in love for someone you were so sure was made for you?

You offered him the best smile you could through your tears, “You did…Nothing wrong,” you let out a whisper of a laugh as you stared into his eyes that were once so comforting.  His eyes used to bring you so much joy, but now they held with just as much heartbreak as yours, “You were just…Yourself.”

“But you––Why tell me this––Why are you destroying our friendship when you already knew I didn’t love you back?”

“I didn’t want to tell you––Wait,” you had felt your heart stop for the boy in front of you a million times.  Your heart had stopped for him when he gave you your star sign constellation as a necklace for a present.  Your heart had stopped for him when he pointed at you when he was performing on stage.  

But never had it stopped for this long as you awaited his answer, “How did you know that I knew?”

Shawn’s red eyes grew wide, not expecting for his little secret to slip out.  He tried stammering out an excuse through his tears, but just like he had deflected your excuses about not wearing your necklace, you weren’t putting up with him.  You had an inclination as to how he knew that you knew he didn’t feel the same way about you.  But you were praying that you were wrong.

God, you hoped you were wrong.

“Shawn,” your voice cracked as you looked at him, he was shaking his head as if begging you not to ask your next question, “How did you know?”

“Y/n––”

“How.”

Shawn let out a breath so shaky that you felt yourself lose balance, “At the party, five days ago…” his eyes were begging you to have him stop his explanation, but you shook your head, wanting him to twist the knife he had already plunged so deep into your heart.

“The bathroom door was open and––and I saw you form the corner of my eye and when Brian asked me about you––I thought if you heard I didn’t love you, instead of me saying it to you, that we could go back to being normal.”

He knew you were listening.  He knew you weren’t okay when he asked you so delicately, so full of obliviousness, as you cut yourself with shards of broken glass.  And he knowingly left you in the kitchen after he knew he had broken your heart.  

Turns out, he did know you just as well as you thought.

“You…You knew I was listening?”

The nod of his head was the final hit.  It felt as if a hawk had swooped into your heart, talons digging in deep, thrashing until they successfully picked your heart apart piece by piece, savoring every moment of your destruction.

You didn’t think it was possible to feel even more hurt than you did that night when you listened to him in the bathroom say so confidently that he didn’t love you.  He said it with so much conviction––I don’t love her––knowing that you were just a few feet away from him, clearly able to hear him break your heart.

His presence, one that you yearned for during every second of the day you weren’t with him, was now something that repulsed you.  

How did your supposed best friend have so little respect for you?

Without a second thought other than to get the hell out of his apartment, you dashed behind him to the living room to pick your phone up from the coffee table, haphazardly slid your sneakers on, and tucked the laces under the tongue of the shoe.  Your hands were shaking as you rushed past his standstill figure in the kitchen.

Your hand was on the doorknob, about to turn it, but his voice cut you off.

“Don’t––Y/n, I’m sorry––”

The tips of his fingers grazed your elbow, just as gently as they caressed your hair earlier, but you opened the door, jumping out into the hallway to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Fucking––Stay away from me.”

You slammed the door on his tearstained face and ran down the hallway.  You ran to the very end, skipping the elevator as you yanked the door to the stairs open.  Your palms were sweating, heart beating out of control, as you raced down the stairs out of breath.  Shawn had made you feel all those things before, but never had you felt them in such a turmoil of pain, you had previously only felt them out of the nervousness of love for him.

You made it to the lobby, praying that Shawn hadn’t taken the elevator down to stop you from leaving.  When you saw that the coast was clear, you avoided eye contact with the doorman, as you quickly walked past him.

“Y/n?”

You whipped your head around, eyes wide, as you saw Brian stood a few feet away from you with a concerned look on his face.  

His eyes started at your face, taking in your splotchy appearance, then his eyes darted to your shaky hands, and then back up to your red eyes, where tears were still falling.

He looked at you with a regretful smile, “You told him?”

You sniffed back the tears and brought your forearm to wipe under your nose, “I don’t––Told him what?”

He gave you a pointed stare, you had never confided in Brian about your feelings for Shawn, but you always had a feeling that he knew something.

“Did he tell you?”

You screwed your eyes tight wanting to erase everything you had heard in the last hour.  

When you opened your eyes, Brian’s mournful stare was still on you, “He told me a lot of things.”  He perked up at that piece of information.  There was a glint of glee in his eyes, but it was soon replaced with confusion as you said your next sentence, “Keep him from coming after me.”

“What do you––”

The ding of the elevator and a desperate shout of a voice that had just destroyed your heart called out your name, cut him off, “Y/n!”

Your body went into fight or flight mode, and you chose flight as your petrified body sprinted out the glass door of his building.

And just like the night after the party, you walked home from Shawn’s place to your apartment, arms hugging your stomach for some sort of comfort, tears clouding your vision.  You miserably failed to keep your cries at bay as you publicly showcased your heartbreak as gray clouds rolled in and thunder boomed from the distance.

-----

TAG LIST 

@fallinallincurls @adelaidestreets @alina--jpeg @5-seconds-of-mendes @particularnarry @now-that-i-saw-u

#there is literally nothing but angst in this #angst! unrequited love! all of it!! #enjoy!!! #let me know your thoughts! #I'm gonna make some more tea and write some fluff slkdjfl #I hope your weekend is going well!! mine has been exceptional with Taylor swift's new album #Shawn mendes #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes writing #Shawn Mendes angst #Shawn mendes fan fiction #Shawn mendes ff #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanficiton #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes writings #Shawn mendes blurbs #Shawn mendes imagines #Shawn mendes concept #Shawn mendes one shot #Shawn mendes one shots #Shawn mendes oneshot #Shawn mendes oneshots #we h8 tags #but enjoy! #reblog if you enjoy it! or not! doesn't really matter!

[flipomatic]

Bass

Summary: Once they have all the pieces, they sit down together to build it.

Each part reminds Marceline of their relationship, of the life they’re constructing together.

Word Count: 1300

Contains spoilers for obsidian.

Author Note: I have never written for this ship before and I know nothing about bass guitar except for a picture I found with the parts labeled. Here we go.

_________________________________________________________

It isn’t until Marceline is safely home, with the motorcycle stowed away, that she again remembers her lost axe bass. She’s hovering in the kitchen while Bonnie washes the dishes, drying them in turn and stacking them on the shelves. It’s a routine, calming and familiar.

A string of lyrics comes to her, about the tinkling noise each dish makes as she places it, and she wants to sing it. She wants to pluck the strings of her bass to make the beat and hopefully bring a smile to the face of her bubblegum pink girlfriend. Then she remembers.

Marceline remembers what happened to her axe bass. She has other instruments, of course, but to not have a bass in the house still feels strange. She both accepts the loss and mourns it.

Once the dishes are all dry, she brings the topic up with Bonnie.

Her girlfriend, her scientifically precise wonderful girlfriend, suggests that they build a replacement. It will take a while, but they can find the parts and build something new, build something together.

Marceline loves the idea so much, she kisses her.

They collect parts over the next few weeks. Some of the wood comes from an ancient tree in the forest. An old blacksmith helps with the metal pieces. They even take a trip to a guitar store, just for the strings. It all has to be just right.

Once they have all the pieces, they sit down together to build it.

Each part reminds Marceline of their relationship, of the life they’re constructing together.

The first part is the body. It’s the center of the bass, the core. It holds the whole instrument together.

It reminds Marceline of the house she and Bonnie share. For the longest time she had lived there alone, and for all that time it had just been a place to hover while she rested. She had many other places that she lived.

Now, oh how things change. This isn’t just a house, it’s her home. This is where Bonnie is, where they stay together. This house is their foundation, their base of operations.

Bonnie brings so much energy to the house. With her pictures on the walls, her chairs at the kitchen table and on the porch, and her lab materials upstairs, she breathes life into their home.

Her presence, no, their presence together, fills the building with meaning. It connects them together, holds them inside.

The body of the bass does the same.

Next they put on the bridge. It will anchor the strings, hold them in place.

The same way Bonnie anchors her, every night and every morning.

When Marceline climbs into bed every night and looks to her side, Bonnie’s there. Sometimes they hold hands under the blankets, an anchor even in sleep. Marceline sleeps well by her side.

In the morning, when Marceline opens her eyes against the dreary morning sun, Bonnie is there. Every morning, without a doubt. Sometimes, but not often, Marceline wakes up first. She watches her sleep when that happens, the way her pretty pink face relaxes in slumber.

Marceline kisses her gently on the forehead, lightly as not to disturb her, and lies back down.

Like the bridge, Bonnie anchors her.

Pickups are added next, placed onto the body of the bass. They hold the strings up in just the right spot.

Marceline tries to do the same for Bonnie. To raise her up, to help her be the best she can be.

She supports her with her science. Marceline helps track down materials and holds beakers, all to aid in her quest for knowledge. She even lets Bonnie experiment on her, with often mixed results.

Bonnie lifts her too. She listens to Marceline’s music and brings new styles to it. She sings along, filling Marceline with warmth.

They lift each other, like the pickups hold up the strings.

A strap post is added to the body, to sling a strap on and hold the bass close.

When Bonnie’s arms are around her, Marceline doesn’t want her to let go. She feels safe and warm in her embrace.

Nothing can hurt her there, no nightmares or memories can intrude.

When Marceline returns the hug, that’s even better. She still remembers when she thought she lost Bonnie, remembers flying desperately across the field to embrace her. Marceline will do whatever it takes to protect her.

She holds her close, like the guitar strap does for a bass.

The neck and fingerboard are added together. The two long strips of wood and metal are a perfect match, aligned and glued side by side.

Though their bed is queen sized, the two of them fit quite well on just one side. Their bodies fit perfectly together as they cuddle.

Marceline is the big spoon this time, with Bonnie’s back flush against her. She lays an arm over her waist to pull her closer, earning a content sigh from her partner. She hears a softly muttered declaration of love.

As Marceline softly kisses the side of her neck, Bonnie seems to melt into her.

They fit together like the neck and fingerboard.

The frets are added one by one in exactly the right spots. If the frets are wrong, then every note will be out of tune.

When either of them is upset, when they refuse to share, their relationship is the same way. Out of key and out of tune, they argue.

They work on it together. Marceline tries to share more, both through songs and words. She tells herself to stop bottling things up and knows that Bonnie will understand when she shares. She’ll accept her for who she is.

Bonnie works on it as well, in her own way. She makes clear schedules with limited lab time and says if something will change. When bad things happen, she talks about it. Marceline listens.

They are always working towards it, having their frets in the right positions.

At the top of the bass is the headstock. It holds the bass together, unifies it as whole.

All of the things they do, around the house and outside of it, bring them together.

Playing board games, going on adventures, helping save the glass kingdom, and so much more. Their bond only grows and strengthens.

Long, languid kissing sessions on the couch bring them even closer. Marceline cherishes every movement, every flush of pink cheeks.

They belong together. They complete each other.

The headstock completes the bass in the same way.

On the headstock, tuning keys are added. They’ll adjust the pitch of the strings, which will go on last.

For Marceline, she’s always fine tuning her words. She has so much she should say, but how to say it has always alluded her. Keeping her feelings inside used to be easier.

Now though, with Bonnie, she can find the words. She wants to find the words. She shares things about herself that she never thought she would.

She shares things she never wanted to admit even to herself.

This tuning is essential to her, and to the bass.

The last piece of the bass is the strings. Marceline does this part herself. She slowly adds each of the four and tightens them, tuning them to exactly the right pitch.

Every note played is a message.

It’s the words, “I love you,” played over and over again.

Every minute of every day for the rest of her life, Marceline will love Bonnie. She’ll tell her, through her songs and through her words, how much she does. How she’ll cherish her, hold her close, and love her.

When Bonnie says those words back, it’s music to her ears.

They carve their initials on the body, a reminder of what they achieved together.

Marceline plays her first song on the new bass.

It’s a love song.

#bubbline #adventure time #adventure time obsidian #bubblegum #marceline #adventure time fanfic #how does one even tag for this #this is in present tense and i hate writing in present tense #but it felt right to do it this way #i hope you like it

[sepublic]

Belos the Cabinet Man!

           MAJOR kudos to @funnyfany for introducing me to Cabinet Man by Lemon Demon, because as they said… This song is PERFECT for someone like Emperor Belos, and just in general slaps! Like, it honestly really describes my read on him? In fact, why don’t I peel and dissect the lyrics to see how they could easily apply to him;

The day they found me, I hadn’t yet been played

Inside my workshop behind my old arcade

Electric desires had unraveled all my wires

Now I’m in the box for safekeeping

           These lyrics allude to Belos’ obvious motifs of technology, as well as him having a ‘workshop’, which ties to his work on the portal! But there’s also the concept of him being rather ancient, as well as needing to be protected because he’s vulnerable in the end; Such as by metal armor, instead of a box?

The news reporters reported that I died

But all my organs were living on inside

Circuit board to brain with two lungs collecting change

One big human heart gently beeping

           The first line immediately makes me think of Perry Porter, but it also makes me think about what the ‘Unauthorized Author’ had to say, about Belos retreating into his castle, and people speculating that he had big plans while he let Kikimora and others be his public face. Again, there’s more machine-flesh imagery, as well as the obvious allusion to a giant beating heart. Two lungs collecting change can allude to Belos and his greedy hunger for power and bile.

You can’t win me, I can’t be beat

I won’t hurt you, unless you cheat

You can’t see me behind the screen

I’m half human and half machine

           We’ve got Belos boasting how invincible he is, but it can also refer to how the Coven System is a lose-lose situation, that either you go off and be alone and persecuted as an individual, OR you conform and became safe, but lose your identity in the process!

          We have Belos alluding to how he can be a merciful dude unless you really piss him off; And that line about cheating reminds me of how the Coven System seeks out only the most ‘worthy’ of people, and how this mentality has affected characters like Amity, who by consequence despise cheating!

          Or how Boscha’s bullying is mostly rude remarks… Until she feels like her attention is being ‘stolen’ by others, then she resorts to some brutal and even dangerous tactics in retaliation! To Belos, he just wants people to fit into their little spots, he’s offering them a nice little role and function in society, an actual place, he’s not a bad and malicious dude! Just a messenger… 

         Similarly, ‘cheating’ could be seen as doing magic the ‘wrong way’, because otherwise, competition to join the Emperor’s Coven and be the best is encouraged, so long as you engage with the system properly and play by its rules! You’re just not supposed to do Wild Magic, mix tracks, that sort of thing; Otherwise you WILL be persecuted by Belos!

          Then there’s the idea of Belos being hidden behind his mask, or just hidden in general (like when he spies on Luz, Willow, and Gus in his castle), and again, the biomechanical imagery! I can’t say for sure if he WAS human or not, because Belos definitely isn’t NOW, to say the least!

Thank God for business, they let me take the floor

I stood so proudly, like I was going to war

Players soon appeared and I quickly was revered

This must be what love would have felt like

           The Titan is responsible for Belos’ power (allegedly), as he claims to enforce its will. Belos’ art depicts him as standing above the rest, and him being VERY tall definitely helps… Then you have him going on a crusade against wild witches, being worshipped by many others, and POSSIBLY a connection to my speculation on him being a lonely individual who was never properly loved in the past, and is confusing this with distant worship…

          And really this just makes me think of other analyses of the Coven System as creating codependent relationships and hollow images to love VS that people actually are! Regardless, it also reminds me of Belos’ parasitic motifs, that last line, so you know!

Such dedication, they came from miles away

With eyes so piercing, they’d wait their turn to play

In perfect patient lines because I was in their minds

I could do whatever I felt like (Whatever I felt like)

           Students from Hexside literally travel miles to Belos’ castle on a field trip, and we have Eda mentioning how Lilith was so excited to meet him as children! Kids looking up to Belos, seeing him as someone to adulate, a role model even (with Lilith invoking him in her motives for the curse)… People literally dedicating their entire lives (and even those of their children) to Belos and his Coven! And of course, we have Belos having the power to do as he pleases, be it going back on his promise to Lilith, letting Luz rescue her friends because he has the portal anyway, etc.; It’s an almost nonchalant disregard of others for what matters to BELOS in the end…

I’m happy for years and years

And only eating the occasional maintenance man

Only driving a few kids to madness

Maybe they were predisposed to madness, who knows?

           Skipping over some repeat lines, we have Belos being at the top for a while, and of course, draining palismans for their bile to restore his health! Kids going mad easily describes people like Lilith, Boscha, or Amity, who base their entire self-worth on joining the Emperor’s Coven, being at the top, and/or fitting in, to the point where Lilith even curses her own sister, Boscha brutally bullies those she sees as a threat to her popularity, while people like the Blight Parents abuse and indoctrinate their kids for social status!

          But then Belos speculates that, hey… HE didn’t make them do this! His system encouraged and enabled them, sure… But in the end it was their actions, which brings to mind how while influenced, none of these characters are entirely faultless either for their actions. Not only that, but it makes me think about how some people seem predisposed and outright embracing of what Belos has to say, as if even without his Coven System they would always be this kind of awful… Such as Warden Wrath, or again, the Blight Parents!

          That last line really makes me think about how different characters coped differently with the pressure, with some remaining good people, while others enabled themselves to do terrible things. Perhaps Belos merely revealed what was already there? Because it still says a lot about other people that they chose to believe and follow in him when others made the decision notto.

I only want to have fun

But now they’re telling me my days here are done

‘Cause there’s a little tiny box they make in Japan

And pretty soon it’s gonna fit in your hand

           Belos just wants to be at the top, he’s ‘just a humble messenger for the Titan’, and maybe like Luz in Episode 2 he just wanted to be special… But he’s also clearly past his expiration date and dying, too. Not only that, but we have a rival… Someone smaller than Belos both literally and in the metaphorical, underdog sense;

          A foreigner from a different land, one who can teach others to cast magic within their hands through Glyphs! There’s Belos, an Old Soul, being made obsolete and redundant by Luz and her Glyphs, which potentially function as a work-around to his coven bindings and draining of bile! Not to mention how her ideals also make Belos’ seem rather antiquated, don’t they? Not to mention the idea of power and control being in the hands of the people, not dependent upon a singular source like Belos…

          His short-lived reign is being actively threatened by Luz’s presence, which Belos acknowledges as having changed everything… And really, it just reminds me of how characters like Boscha enjoyed being at the top as a result of Belos’ influence, only to feel threatened when others come along and ‘steal’ that glory!

It’s getting lonely, it’s getting hard to breathe

The arcade’s empty, I think it’s Christmas Eve

Someone’s broken in, now they’re painting on my skin

Breaking me and taking my quarters

Bashing in my face with a crowbar

Kicking me and pushing me over

Now they see my blood on their sneakers

           Literally the first thing we see of Belos is him having labored breathing… And again, there’s this idea that he’s being left behind as obsolete, he’s reclusive and retreated into his castle and doesn’t let others near him; He’s at the top, and it’s a lonely place! It’s the Eve of Christmas, Christmas is right around the corner, just as the Day of Unity is approaching, when;

          The next few lines invoke the image of Luz breaking into Belos’ castle/the conformatorium… And if you go by the idea that the Castle is a part of Belos, Luz and co. vandalizing the treasury as akin to vandalizing Belos’ own body! Not to mention the three stealing Belos’ relics… And of course, Luz ‘bashing in’ Belos’ face/mask with an ice spike! Only to realize that there’s clearly a LOT more body horror to Belos than she anticipated…! Realizing that Belos is linked to the very ground and earth she stands upon, and boy can he manipulate it!

           After that, the song ends with some repeat lyrics; But all-in-all, I would LOVE to see, someday, someone else (or maybe even myself) do an AMV of Emperor Belos, but with Cabinet Man by Lemon Demon! Compiled entirely of various clips that allude to the lyrics I mentioned earlier, that’d be a lot of fun and if I knew how to do video edits I could do it myself one day!

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house belos #emperor belos #cabinet man #lemon demon #lyric analysis #character analysis #the owl house amity #amity blight #the owl house boscha #warden wrath #the owl house luz #luz noceda

[fyeahhozier]

The Irishman is deeper and darker than he's maybe been given credit for... but the geniality and swoon factor remain high.

Variety: Hozier Proves He’s a Career Artist in Gratifying Greek Show

At Hozier’s sold-out show at L.A.’s Greek Friday night, one of the first things you couldn’t help noticing on stage —because it’s still an anomaly — was that his eight-piece lineup was half-male, half-female. Knowing his penchant for socially conscious songs, his decrial of “the anthems of rape culture” in his lyrics, and a general female-friendliness to his appeal, it’s easy to figure this gender parity is a conscious one and think: That is soooo Hozier. Which it is … and so effective, too, like just about every choice he’s made so far in his short, charmed career. On the most practical level, if you can bring in that much female harmony while also getting ace players in the bargain, why wouldn’t you? But it also makes for a good visual emblem of some of the other dual energies Hozier is playing with in his music: darkness and enlightenment; romantic hero and cad; raw blues dude and slick pop hero. He’s got a lot more going on than just being an earnest do-gooder. (Although he does do good, earnestly.)

During Friday’s hour-and-three-quarters set, Hozier focused largely on material from this year’s sophomore album, “Wasteland, Baby!,” which sounded good enough on record but almost uniformly improved in the live experience. Sometimes the upgrade came from making full use of the multi-instrumentalists on hand. The first album’s “Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene” now had Hozier on guitar facing off against violinist Emily Kohavi, trading solos — and if it’s hard to hear an electric guitar/fiddle duel without automatically thinking “The Devil Went Down to Georgia,” it was one of many welcome moments making use of the MVP skills of Kohavi, the newest addition to the band. Other times, the improvements on the album versions just had to do with Hozier allowing himself louder and gutsier guitar tones. He’s a bit like Prince, in that way — someone you’d happily listen to playing a very nasty-sounding six-string all night, although he has so many other stylistic fish to fry, which in this case means a still slightly greater emphasis on acoustic finger-picking.

For somebody who made his name on as forlorn but powerful an anthem as his 2014 breakout smash “Take Me to Church,” and who can milk that melodrama for all it’s worth, Hozier has a lot of other modes he can default to. He treads very lightly into the area of soul with songs like “Almost (Sweet Music),” the lyrics of which consist of either name-checking or alluding to some of the great jazz vocal classics of the 20th century, in an idiom that’s not so much jazzy itself as folk-R&B. You could almost cite it as the subtle kind of Memphis-swing thing Justin Timberlake should aspire to, if the tricky polyrhythm and oddly chopped up meters Hozier adds as wrinkles weren’t so un-replicable. Bringing up Stevie Wonder’s “Living for the City” as the night’s sole cover also established that early ‘70s era and sound as an influences he’d like to make perfectly clear. At the other extreme, this son of a blues musician can hard back to those roots so well, in noisy numbers like “Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue)” and the brand new “Jack Boot Jump,” that he could give the Black Keys a run for their money.

“Jack Boot Jump,” which is scheduled to go on an EP of completely fresh material that Hozier said he plans to put out before Christmas, was possibly the highlight of the night, even though — or because — it stripped his excellent band down to just him and longtime drummer Rory Doyle. Having earlier played the current album’s “Nina Cried Power,” which is maybe more of a tribute to other historic protest songs than one of its own, Hozier gave a lengthy introduction to “Jack Boot” indicating that he’s aware of the traps that come with the territory. “I do have some reservations about the words ‘protest song’ and ‘protest music,’” he admitted. “But if you’re familiar with an artist called Woody Guthrie, he wrote the evergreen anthem ‘Tear the Fascists’ down. I was kind of looking into songs in that sort of tradition, that singing out, and I was worried that this is 2019; it’s a very unsubtle way to approach songwriting.” But, he added, “it was a funny few weeks, with 70 people shot in Hong Kong and arrests obviously in Moscow; Chile now at the moment also. And I was thinking, forget about subtle art — what is not subtle is this murder of protesters, and what is not subtle is the jack boot coming down in Orwell’s picture of the future: ‘If you want to imagine the future, imagine a jack boot stomping on a human face forever,’ that chilling quote from ‘1984.’ Anyway, I was just thinking, yeah, f— it, it’s not subtle, but let’s do it.” His electric guitar proceeded to be a machine that kills fascists, and also just slayed as maybe the most rock ‘n’ roll thing he’s written. (Evidence of the new song on the web is scant, or should be, anyway, since he begged the audience “in good faith” not to film it.)

If there’s a knock people have on Hozier, it tends to be the sincerity thing. He’s a nice guy who’s finishing first, which doesn’t necessarily help him become an indie-rock darling or Pitchfork favorite. (Predictably, “Wasteland, Baby!” got a 4.8 rating there — that’s out of 10, not 5.) At the Greek, there was an almost wholesome feeling that would’ve been an immediate turnoff to anyone who insists on having their rock rough, starting with his graciousness in repeatedly naming the band members and repeatedly thanking his opening act (Madison Ryann Ward, a fetchingly husky-voiced Oklahoman filling in on this part of the tour for a laryngitis-stricken Freya Ridings). That extended to a sense of uplift in many of the songs that doesn’t always match the themes of the material. But then, there was the impossible good cheer and attractiveness of the young players, to match Hozier’s own; this is a group where everyone looks as if they could be in Taylor Swift’s band or actually looks like Taylor Swift. The swoon factor in Hozier’s appeal is undeniably high, and it’s safe to say no one left Griffith Park less smitten.

But ladies (and gentlemen), do be aware that Hozier has some dark-side moments that can almost make Leonard Cohen look like Stephen Bishop. The only time he really overtly accentuated that in concert was in introducing and playing the new album’s “No Plan,” a love song that is also an amiable statement of atheism in which Hozier reminds his beloved that the universe is going to collapse upon itself someday. This may be rather like the gambit in which the ‘50s boy gets the girl to make out with him in a fallout shelter, but in any case, Hozier didn’t stint on the end-of-all-things aspect of it, even putting up on screen behind the band a statement from astrophysicist Dr. Katie Mack pointing out humankind’s and the galaxy’s ultimate fate. (“Honestly I never really imagined I’d end up being name-checked in a song for talking about how the universe is eventually going to fade out and die so this is all very exciting for me,” Mack tweeted in replay earlier in the year.) Suffice it to say that with that soulful a vintage ‘70s groove and that fuzz-tastic a guitar line, many babies will be conceived to the tune of “No Plan,” whether it foresees generational lines ending in a godless black hole or not.

Other Hozier songs reveal darker gets more estimable the more you dig into it. With its bird talk, “Shrike” sounds sweet enough, till you realize that a shrike is a kind of bird that impales its prey on thorns, which does add a rather bloody metaphoric undertone to what sounds like a reasonably pacifist breakup song. “Dinner & Diatribes,” meanwhile, is just deeply horny, not thorny. The most brooding song of the set, “Talk,” has verses where Hozier sings in lofty, literary terms about the romantic myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, only to reveal in the chorus that he’s talking to this woman in such high-minded terms because he just wants to charm her into the sack. As a piece of writing, it’s hilarious, establishing a devilish side of Hozier it’s good to hear. As a piece of performance, it’s just sexy.

But as enriching as it is to realize Hozier has a healthy sense of humor in his writing, bad-boy wit is never going to be what you’re going to come away from a Hozier album or show with. The main part of Friday’s concert ended, as expected, with “Take Me to Church,” his outraged take on abuse and homophobia in the scandalized Catholic church — which just happens to be easily taken as a lusty hymn to sexuality. Following that, the large band returned to a stage that had now been decked out in some kind of ivy, as Hozier talked about his love for the late Irish poet Seamus Heaney (whose last words he has tattooed on his arm) and, “since I’ve come this far,” went ahead and recited his poem “Mint,” sharing his hero’s affection for the plant and its “tenacity for life.”

Tenacity is likely to be a buzzword, too, for Hozier, given his leaps and gains as a writer-performer and seeming level head atop his tree-top shoulders. Taller still of voice, musical dexterity and good will — and still just 29 —  he’s somebody the swooners and even some cynics should feel good about settling in with for a very long Irish ride.

[meanminyxrd]

smokey eyes by lincoln but its andreil

i doubt anyone is going to fully read through this, but i like to song analyze. i like to take songs i find and explain why i’ve added them to my aftg playlists. this first song i’m going to “explain”, i suppose, is smokey eyes by lincoln. it’s added to neil’s playlist.

The first verse is as follows:

Smokey eyes, are you feeling good?

For now, you’re here with me

Seems like we’ve waited long enough

For someone else to make us feel complete

It’s not a bitter flavor, and it’s not a sweeter drink

I’m scared to ask you if you would do the same for me

at the beginning of whatever this thing with andrew is, neil believes that he is not important at all to andrew. he thinks that andrew doesn’t care as much as he himself does. but he’s okay with that; he’s gonna die by the end of the year anyways, so might as well have a good time. but still, it hurts. ‘are you feeling good?’—he wants to make andrew happy like andrew makes him feel happy. he wants to make andrew feel safe like andrew makes him feel safe. and for fucks sake, they HAVE waited long enough to feel happy and complete. they haven’t had anything like… THIS… their whole lives. and what they have, it isnt stereotypically sweet, but it isn’t in any means bad or bitter. it works out for them, and that’s what matters. and he cares so much about andrew that it hurts, it almost tears him apart to suddenly care about anyone but himself, but he doesnt think andrew cares back and is too scared to ask.

Smokey eyes; that’s your name, isn’t it?

At least that’s what I call you

When I call you, do you shake the way I shake

When I call to say I’m through?

“No, I shake the way you do at shows

So people know you’re cool

Violently, but still controlled enough to screw.”

you cannot tell me neil doesn’t come up with nicknames for andrew. my favorite head canons come from when neil is sleepy and calls andrew ‘drew and i get so weak reading them. as for the shaking part, its like neil’s saying ‘if i called to end it, whatever this thing is, i would be heartbroken and shaking from the anxiety and pain of it all. would you?’ and the only answer he can imagine coming back is that andrew doesnt care, and that all he was was a cheap fuck, because in the beginning that’s all andrew dares to show.

now, after the hotel in baltimore scene, he thinks andrew cares at this point. why else would andrew have fought for him to stay? but we all know how absolutely fucking oblivious neil can be. when he’s with aaron at the cabin during their vacation, he expresses he doesn’t believe andrew would care enough to do anything drastic for him. he genuinely believes that if aaron asked andrew to drop neil, that andrew would in order to keep his promise.

cut to the chorus of the song:

So help me make amends with all my friends

Most other people are just dead ends

There’s nothing worse than making friends

again, after baltimore, he knows andrew cares, but he doesnt know what to do about it or how exactly to cope with this revelation. if andrew cares, then it can’t be that much, right? because what could neil josten, a made up character and personality, have to offer to any of the foxes? yet he needs to make amends with the foxes. they’re all he has, and leaving them would break his heart. he is basically begging andrew not to send him away, begging wymack to let him stay. he wants to make amends, and most people who he’s tried to trust have just hurt him, so they’re dead ends. he hates that he’s attached because what could be worse than getting attached? but he cares, and he wants to fix it, fix this. he knows lying to them was wrong and he thinks the foxes will shun him because he’s the son of the butcher and also the yakuza is not just after kevin but him as well. he hates that he’s attached, but he is, and he wants to fix it.

Sticky thighs, are you wild now or just a memory?

Some people want to be your friend

Some people just want to be free

And the worst thing about me is that I’m somewhere in between;

I might miss you, but I’m still trying to get clean

‘some ppl wanna be ur friend’, the upperclassmen do attempt to include andrew in things, a lot more after neil kinda coaxes them to but the same nonetheless. it’s not easy trying to include the monsters, but neil’s relationship with both “sides” of the team are important to him, so each side tries their best to at least attempt to get along. ‘some ppl just want to be free’ ie aaron. aaron wanted out of the deal but didn’t know how to really get around it. nicky wanted to be more friendly with the upperclassmen but was held back by andrew’s rules. and neil, he’s somewhere in between. he wants to be (boy)friends with andrew, but he also still has this feeling of wanting to run, to leave before andrew leaves, and when he thinks of leaving he misses andrew but he’s also just trying to do what he thinks is best for both of them.

You’ve had enough to drink

You know you’re drowning in the flavor of

Cough syrup and Vicodin

You’ve got the bitter flavor down so

Dab the sweeter drink on a napkin, then

Hold it up to your mouth so you can sleep

andrew usually doesn’t get drunk, as he states he knows his limits, but he totally does when he’s really upset and isn’t gonna be driving. for instance, after a rough game without his meds he would be rewarded with alcohol from wymack. in the author’s notes, there’s a scene where andrew goes to wymack’s apartment to talk about neil and he chugs alcohol then, too. whether he’s able to admit it or not, andrew abuses alcohol as a way to cope. this lyric, to me, alludes to the use of drugs or drinks to cope.

Quiet lies that you’re telling to

Those black and screaming skies...

I hope you’re walking around campus

Contemplating your own smallish size

This is not what all my idols told me college would be like

I hope someday you learn to take your own advice

the quiet lies are in the blank stares, the flat expressions, the mean words and obvious apathy. andrew’s apathy keeps him safe, but neil sees through it. he knows its a lie. he’s knows that there’s more to this misunderstood monster and he wants to learn all about it. he hopes that andrew is able to think about bigger things, even when neil isnt there to try and get him to. he hopes andrew isn’t as impassive as he tries to make others believe. he hopes, and truly believes, that somewhere in there, andrew cares about neil.

furthermore, college is nothing like its made out to be. college, for neil, has been both hell and heaven. he never thought he’d even end up going, let alone go to play exy of all things. andrew is always giving neil advice, but he never follows any of it himself. andrew is all about getting neil to open up to him, but is hesitant to open up as well. neil understands, but he also hopes andrew warms up to him a bit. he enjoys their trust for trust relationship and genuinely wishes that one day andrew will be okay. maybe not good, but okay. because that’s a start.

and, scene.

thank you for reading if you read this far! i’ll probably end up doing more, tbh, because i really enjoy writing these. that’s all for now, though!

#aftg #all for the game #andrew minyard #neil josten #andreil #tfc #the foxhole court #song analysis

[demiromantic-official]

Carnival of Aros July 2020

I haven’t participated in one of these before, but since music is quite important to me, I decided that this one I would write about. 

My View as a Consumer

Now I feel that I’m bit different than most arospecs, especially in my relationship to music. I don’t have a problem with songs about love, though I do dislike most of those sappy, cliché ones like those played on the pop stations. However as a musician, lyrics are not the only things I think of when deciding whether I like a song, which also may make my view a bit different than others. 

Mostly I listen to new wave / post punk from the ‘80s, and those songs  reflected the depressing and tumultuous emotions of the era. They explored themes like depression, hopelessness, fascism, the Cold War, threat of nuclear destruction, longing, disconnect, stardom, politics, WWII, addiction, war, humans relationship with technology, religious guilt, commercialism, and many others that are clearly not love but which also doesn’t have a clear meaning to me.  Or maybe they weren’t meant to have a meaning, like the songwriters of New Order claim about their songs.

When it does come to the love songs, I don’t feel the revulsion or disconnect that many arospecs seem to feel. I do dislike many of the vapid meaningless ones that are found on the pop stations (like Ed Sheeran etc), but most of the ones I listen to, I’m not sure if I would call them love songs. Maybe I’m being naïve, but even though I know the songwriter was thinking about someone they loved when writing it, the lyrics that have a deeper meaning than “i saw this hot girl and i wish we would date”, and are therefore interesting to me. Rather the feelings are described in such a way that it could be about a close friend, or someone that means a lot, without even stretching. They seem more about the human experience and interconnectedness, rather than purely romance. Even though I don’t experience romantic attraction, I like songs that delve deep into the human experience, about longing and fear and death and brokenness and other profound emotions. There’s a reason that era of music was sometimes described as “the new romantic”. Take “Lovesong” by the Cure for example. 

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am home again

Whenever I’m alone with you

You make me feel like I am whole again

Now it’s no secret that Robert Smith wrote it about his wife whom he had been with for years, but I also think it describes something about the human experience that most people can relate to: being a broken and hurt person, but having people in your life that make you feel safe, make you not think so much about your brokenness. And that’s part of my aromantic experience, I think. That I don’t listen to songs with a “love filter”, but rather I think about what the song says about the human experience, about the deeper emotions that most people are afraid to talk about. It’s the same with his song “Disintegration”. Even though the song alludes to being about losing a partner, it’s much more than that. It’s (according to interviews, but also my own interpretation) about depression and drug addiction and having such a bleak view on life that you don’t see the possibility of being whole again. The poetry in it is stunning. I’ve never heard a song that better describes what it feels like to go through a trauma and to be in so much pain that you don’t know you can survive much longer, or that in his words:

through the eye of a needle, 

it’s easier for me to get closer to heaven than ever be whole again.

I guess what I’ve been trying to describe is that as an arospec person, I don’t seek out traditional love songs, but I like the kinds that mention love, that maybe have love as a theme, but which aren’t entirely about it, those which have much deeper themes that describe other aspects of the human experience that maybe most people are afraid to touch on. I’ve related a lot of such songs, or songs about a failing relationship / losing a lover that do not explicitly mention it being about a partner, to being about other situations in my own life, such as losing a friend. Or platonic love, in general. 

I don’t think there are any songs I’ve related to being aromantic in particular; I’ve had an easier time relating songs to asexuality (like some Smiths songs, such as Pretty Girls Make Graves, can relate to asexuality since Morrissey viewed himself as such). Nevertheless, I still feel that music has been able to describe my range of experiences, and I’ve never felt excluded or underrepresented. 

If one wanted to be coy, though, I could name the song “Shot by Both Sides” by Magazine as one to which I could add an aromantic meaning. It’s meant to be about having a political view that leaves one “shot by both sides”, which one can say a lot about even today, when the loudest voices are extremists and having a nuanced opinion leaves many people hated by both majorities, but I won’t go into that on this blog. However sometimes it sadly feel like the aro experience...Straight people don’t accept us because we aren’t straight enough, because we’re cold people who don’t know love (in their eyes). And LGBT+ people don’t like us because we can “pass” as straight. I know not all people feel this and outside of the occasional hateful ask and mutual making a “aro and aces don’t belong in the community post” “haha all these asks trying to convince me otherwise are funny you’re not gonna convince me”, I’ve not experienced anything like this firsthand. But the sentiment is there.

My View as a Songwriter

When I write songs, I try to keep this same energy of the earlier songs I mentioned. That is, if the song is about a person or being hurt by a person, I try to make it in such a way that multiple interpretations are valid. It could be about a friend, or it could be someone else. I focus on the feelings, or even on topics that are not about interhuman connections. 

I don’t necessarily think that songwriters should be expected to be inclusive of the community, like the promptings asked. Unlike movies/shows, songs can be highly personal and typically express some emotion, experience, social commentary, or opinion that the person has, and I feel there’s an extent to which you can tell someone how to make their art (not giving spotlight to people who sing about rape/pedophilia/racism in a way that’s not satire and not social commentary or a demand for change is one exception I stand by 100%). With movies and books it’s different, because then you’re telling a story and fantasy or not, stories should contain myriads of experiences because they are almost always a reflection of the outer world in at least a small way. 

I think it’s a lot easier to be inclusive of the trans or gay community, by changing lines slightly to be vague about the genders of the people involved, which is something Pete Shelley from the Buzzcocks did to make his music accessible for people no matter their gender or what gender they liked. And it can be done without changing the meaning. 

That being said, as an artist I can recommend the following actions:

Reach out to your favorite artists! I know a lot might not answer especially if they are well-known, and fan mail doesn’t seem to be a thing anymore, but it’s a good try. Bringing up the Smiths again, I remember an interview talking about Hand in Glove (one of their many songs that have a reference to homosexuality), in which songwriters Morrissey and Johnny basically talked about being inclusive with the song. Even when they were playing cover songs, they didn’t have a problem playing a song but a girl pop group about wanting a boy. Based on his bio, I know Johnny is likely not LGBT, but is a wonderful ally. I say this to point out that if you show how important being included is, the artist may just do something similar.

Maybe try different out artists/genres? This doesn’t solve the problem of being included, but I see a lot of arospecs claim most music is about romantic love...and as someone who sees themselves as well-versed in music...it’s really not? Maybe it’s because almost all my music is alternative and because I used to listen to a lot of punk which often is social commentary and calls for change, but in my experience of listening I’ve heard a wide range of experiences and parts of humanity expressed, evening disregarding the songs that are ambiguous about whether they are about romantic love or other love. Even popular artists like Radiohead and Nirvana have many songs with different topics than love. Sure, the topic of love may be represented than any single other topic alone, but combined the other number of songs on other topics are great too.

Support aromantic artists (or artists who sing about topics you relate to). Artists need support to keep making music, so support the ones who include you. And who knows, maybe more aromantic artists will start singing about their experiences as support grows.

#carnival of aros

[theworldoffandoming]

23, 89, 44, 62, 18, 34, 8

OKAY UM I’m not sure I counted these correctly but here goes:

So I think this is part of my Crossroads playlist, which I repeat sometimes. I haven’t actually listened to a lot of Veridia’s stuff past like her 2016 album? Lol. Anyways, it just has those nice sci-fi vibes like that short 2014 album does, it’s just good. I think it’s one of her best. I don’t know if it has specific character vibes, just story vibes I guess? CR is such a vague story rn it’s been barely updated since I added this song to its playlist dsgjkd.

Oh this is an old one... Gosh I think I was introduced to it in what, 2011 or ‘12 maybe?? Or was it ‘13... Anyways I think it was from somebody else’s story playlist but I decided to steal it for my Aliens playlist since it’s got some Herr/Sie Dance Festival vibes where everything is happy and there’s dancing and sparing and just a good time right before some bad times come hehe but yeah. uwu

Okay so this is for my Elyse playlist where I indiscriminately cobbled together every ice/snow-themed video game song that Spotify would give me that also fit the vibes. Apparently it’s from Undertale but I have no memory of this and it fits Elyse’s hometown vibes?? It’s just very gentle and I can picture little chimneys puffing up smoke while the snow falls and is all piled on the roofs... uwu It’s just really good...

Okay this... This (and actually the first two songs also probably??) are because I’ve been replaying my old Spotify Wrapped playlists from past years because 1: I hoard them like a squirrel and 2: I get really sick of my current music sometimes and it’s just nice to listen to something old sometimes. As for playlist... I think it’s on Ron’s/Guardians’? It just... has vibes like that. It’s energetic, and Ron himself is just movement personified, plus like... something about how intense the girl he’s describing is reminds me of Marissa?? Y’know that awful... horrible ship that is literally just burning to the ground every waking minute of its existence yeah that one. But also I think it alludes to their friendship too, how she pulls him up even when she’s an angry bitter woman they still work together as a team even though Ron suffers every waking minute for it. And too how Ron tries to support the team and be the leader (even when Marissa is definitely gunning for the top), trying to contain his emotions (the titular ‘meltdown’) so that he can stay on top of things and keep the others safe. But I also think the song contains a note of hope, so it’s a bit of a positive spin on this otherwise worst ship ever (though I guess it’s also about Ron and the team, and his will to protect and lead them, since I also think the ‘we’ in ‘so we don’t drown’ could be the team in general.) But yeah I really think it contains some themes like being honest or not being honest with how he feels to protect people and be strong for them, when his pals are just like :| “Bro please” but yeah. XD; Since I think a lot of the lyrics that aren’t specifically romantic could be about him resisting opening up so he doesn’t, well, meltdown. XD;

Another Veridia song what do you know. :| Again maybe this is because I’ve been listening a lot to my old Wrapped playlists... but this one I think is actually about Elyse, since she’s one of my more social OCs (one of the few female protags I have that can fit the category of ‘seems I have a lot of friends’ since a lot of them are either lonely or just don’t fit the vibe even if they are just as social...) And... I don’t know, maybe it’s sort of a song-AU because it has a very specific vibe of being a high-rise apartment building with a big bay window where you can see the dark city twinkling below... And since she’s the only sci-fi OC that really fits the vibes... I guess? I guess that’s her?? But I guess in general I can see her trying to shift her attention so she wouldn’t have to focus on her own sadness. It just vibes a lot like her and something she’d do and think. Since she is at heart a positive sort, even if she does have her bouts of gloom, she at least tries to keep it together on the outside most of the time... though a certain cynical teacher can often get to her. XP But yeah I think in general she does worry about other people a lot, so yeah, I can see this being her focusing on the pain of others instead of her own.

So these are some nice Lo-Fi beats that I think feel like a quiet Elyse meditation when she’s reflecting on certain story events. It’s kind of sad, sort of like a drowning affection or emotion? That’s how I see it. Sort of drowning in thoughts. Reflecting on the somewhat recent past. I think I even drew a picture to one of these in the group of Lo-Fi beats that are on her playlist... But it just feels very... reflective and kinda sad yeah.

THIS SONG IS YOUR FAULT I had one of your small playlists on repeat so this isn’t even for one of my stories, YOU EXPLAIN THIS ONE. I just like the vibes it feels very... Zenith... yeah. Sometimes I like listening to other people’s story playlists it can take me out of my head for a bit and get into another world which is nice.

[makeste]

a BnHA playlist/fanmix thing

@psqqa so I finally put together a list of some of my BnHA playlist tracks! this is by no means comprehensive because I have literally half a dozen different playlists with different themes (e.g. “instrumentals”, “BakuDeku”, “songs that either remind me of Kacchan or that he would work out to”, “angsty apocalyptic final battle”, and so forth) and omg it’s a lot. but this is my most inclusive playlist, which consists of general character theme songs for most of class 1-A, the League of Villains, and a few others. my taste in music generally leans towards alternative/indie/rock/grunge, but it can kind of go all over the place. so the genres may vary here and there, especially since I opted to go with whichever song I felt fit the character best regardless of how well the tracks all blended together musically.

also I have a bakudeku bias but THAT’S NOT EXACTLY BREAKING NEWS what can I say. and this is actually me holding back lol but oh well.

Deku - Rise (Katy Perry) - “makeste did you really just kick off your BnHA playlist with a Katy Perry song” yeah I did! because!! I won’t just survive/oh you will see me thrive/can’t write my story/I’m beyond the archetype. like, this song was made for anime protagonists. oh ye of little faith/don’t doubt it, don’t doubt it/victory is in my veins/I know it, I know it. this kid just doesn’t give up. this is no mistake, no accident/when you think the final nail is in, think again/don’t be surprised/I will still rise.

bonus: Blood (Archis) - this song is fucking gorgeous both musically and lyrically. don’t let them win/don’t let them get/under your skin, into your head/they’re full of it/you’re full of life/you’ll prove them right if you’re giving up/so let’s go for blood. it really is fucked up how dismissive BnHA society is of anyone who’s quirkless. it’s so stupid too, because the majority of quirks aren’t even all that great. “look at me I can make DSLR lenses pop out of my body!” lol fucking great. so obviously superior to normal people who have to take pictures with actual cameras like fucking scrubs. anyway, so Deku was written off from a young age as helpless, defective, and deficient, all because he lacked a quirk. so it’s been so fucking great to watch him finally prove them all wrong. (...by getting a quirk. lol. but STILL.) well it sure took a while to turn it around/but I never gave up on me.

Bakugou - We Will Rock You (VonLichten mix) (Queen) - I like this version of the song because it adds a bit of an extra oomph and it’s a little bit fiercer. anyways, this has been my Bakugou theme song since day one, and what I love about it is that each verse works for a different stage of his ~journey~. buddy you’re a boy/make a big noise/playing in the street/gonna be a big man someday -- this is Katsuki as a fearless young child, with hints at the growing chip on his shoulder (kicking your can all over the place). and then the second verse is him a little older, starting out at UA -- buddy you’re a young man/hard man/shouting in the street/gonna take on the world someday -- and proclaiming to the world that he’ll be number one. and lastly we have the final verse, with its line gonna make you some peace someday, which I know is meant in a make-peace-with-things-before-the-end kind of way, but in a BnHA context you can totally tweak it to be a reference to the man he’s aspiring to be. gonna make you some peace, because he’s gonna be greater than the Symbol of Peace himself someday.

bonus: Defy You (The Offspring) - the wind blows/I’ll lean into the wind/my anger grows/I’ll use it to win/the more you say/the more I defy you/so get out of my way. perfect song for a boy who cannot and will not be stopped. you cannot stop us/you cannot bring us down/never give up/we’ll go on and on. or, in his words: “I will win... that’s what heroes do.”

All Might - Legends Never Die (League of Legends OST) - listen I have never played League of Legends lol, but ever since I heard this song in a Marvel edit, this has been the All Might song for me. you could probably just watch the Kamino battle on mute with this song in the background and everything would fit. legends never die/when the world is calling you/can you hear them screaming out your name?/legends never die/they become a part of you/every time you bleed for reaching greatness/relentless, you survive. the lyrics basically speak for themselves. we stan a champion.

Aizawa - I’ll Make a Man Out of You (Mulan OST) - y’all I went through so many songs looking for something that summarized Aizawa’s tiredness/doneness-with-life while also alluding to his mentor side, and then suddenly BAM, it hit me. anyways so yeah. you’re the saddest bunch I ever met/but you can bet before we’re through/mister I’ll make a man out of you. also just try to listen to the “say goodbye to those who knew me/boy was I a fool in school for cutting gym/THIS GUY’S GOT ‘EM SCARED TO DEATH” part without picturing 1-A bitching about their scruffy teacher overlord whom they secretly love.

bonus: I’m So Tired (Fugazi) - if you’re looking for something more musically cohesive with the rest of this playlist in general, as opposed to SUDDEN DISNEY SONG OUT OF NOWHERE, this may be a bit more up your alley lol. I’m so tired sheep are counting me/no more struggle, no more energy/no more patience/and you can write that down/it’s all too crazy and I’m not sticking round. anyways Aizawa needs a nap.

Todoroki - Alive (Sia) - I grew up overnight/I played alone, I played on my own/I survived/I wanted everything I never had/like the love that comes with life/I wore envy and I hated it/but I survived. guys this little candy cane boy has been through some shit. but he hung in there and now he is thriving. I’m still breathing/I’m alive.

Ochako - You Gotta Be (Des’ree) - because she’s a badass. you gotta be bad, you gotta be bold, you gotta be wiser/you gotta be hard, you gotta be tough, you gotta be stronger/you gotta be cool, you gotta be calm, you gotta stay together. anyways I sure would like Ochako to get the spotlight in an arc again one of these days. she’s the best.

Iida - Never Die (FNDTY) - it was actually pretty hard to find a song that fit Iida’s unique forty-year-old man personality since my musical tastes usually run towards moody shit and he’s pretty much the opposite of that lol. but I think the tempo of this song fits his quirk, at least, and it makes me smile, which he does also. you can run/you can fly/you can never die.

Kirishima - Guts Over Fear ft. Sia (Eminem)  - so this is a song all about overcoming your insecurities and finding the courage within yourself. I freaking love how the pre-chorus I was afraid to make a single sound/afraid I would never find a way out builds up and transitions into so here I am and I will not run/guts over fear. I’m so proud of Kiri you guys.

Momo - You Are Young (Keane) - another song about getting the better of your personal doubts and demons! hey now, don’t be scared, baby, don’t be scared at all/of all the things you don’t know/you’ve got time to realize. Momo has so much potential and she’s going to be such an incredible hero one day. now that she’s gaining more confidence the sky is pretty much the limit for her. you’ve got time/you’ve got to try/to bring some good into this world/cause you are young.

Mina - Safe and Sound (Capital Cities) - oh hey it’s the most upbeat song in the world, for the world’s most cheerful and optimistic and endlessly delightful person. I could fill your cup/you know my river won’t evaporate/this world we still appreciate/you could be my luck/even in a hurricane of frowns/I know that we’ll be safe and sound.

Kaminari - Thunderstruck (AC/DC) - okay yeah maybe I didn’t try too hard on this one lol. BUT IF THE SHOE FITS and honestly, it does. title aside, I think this song fits Kaminari musically too. it’s badass and it puts a smile on your face. went through to Texas/yeah Texas/and we had some fun/we met some girls/some dancers who gave a good time/broke all the rules/played all the fools. and then, of course, the chorus. you’ve been thunderstruck.

Jirou - Dream On (Aerosmith) - you know I had to go with a rock song for Jirou, so might as well go with a classic that’s all about (a) loving music (sing with me, sing for the year/sing for the laughter, sing for the tear) and (b) shooting for your dreams. dream on, dream on/dream until your dreams come true.

Tokoyami - Dark Necessities (Red Hot Chili Peppers) - I could have possibly gone with something a bit more goth for Toko as opposed to the Chilis, but the lyrics just fit so well though. you don’t know my mind/you don’t know my kind/dark necessities are part of my design/tell the world that I’m falling from the sky/dark necessities are part of my design/do you want this love of mine?/darkness helps us all to shine. Tokoyami doesn’t get enough respect for being a teenage edgelord without being a cringey mess. he’s setting such a good example for others.

so that’s pretty much it for my 1-A songs, but here are some bonus BakuDeku songs because I am obsessed

Muddy Waters (LP) - this is my theme for Deku VS Kacchan 2. goddamn Katsuki is such a hot fucking mess during this fight. and he’s hurting so much, and he’s reaching out to the only person he knows to reach out to in the only way he knows how. I will ask you for mercy/I will come to you blind/what you’ll see is the worst me/I’m not the last of my kind/in the muddy water we’re falling/in the muddy water we’re crawling. this song brings that good angst you guys. this is a relationship that has been through the wringer, and two boys who have basically no idea what they are doing, just kind of stumbling along. it is not clear why we choose the fire pathway/where we end is not the way that we had planned/all the spirits gathered round like it’s our last day/to get across you know we’ll have to raise the sand. anyways these kids chose the highest possible difficulty level for their path forward, but they’re doing it though. together, y’all.

Admiration (Incubus) - because Izuku is frankly infatuated and doesn’t even try to hide it. you’re an unfenced fire/over walls we’ve trampled/it’s you I admire/my living example. “an amazing person who was even closer to me than All Might.” he’s so open in his respect and awe for practically everything Kacchan does. just staring at him in starry-eyed wonder. and this part of their dynamic has always been so compelling to me -- how unconditional it is on Izuku’s part. that is some fiercely strong love there on his part that it can survive all the bullshit Kacchan heaps onto it, and all his best attempts to snuff it out. he just latched on and wouldn’t let go. anyways it resulted in something extremely unhealthy for quite a while, but it’s turning around now and being reciprocated, even if Kacchan’s version is prickly and tentative. don’t get ahead of me/could we just this once see eye to eye?

Ordinary Love (U2) - I can’t fight you anymore/it’s you I’m fighting for/the sea throws rocks together/but time leaves us polished stones. I fucking love that metaphor, though. yeah, just give them time. they’re gonna figure this all out one day.

and have a bonus theme song for class 1-A in general before we move on

Charlie Brown (Coldplay) - something about this song just embodies that restive, fidgety energy of youth to me. all the boys, all the girls/all that matters in the world/all the boys, all the girls/all the madness that occurs/all the highs, all the lows/as the room a-spinning goes/we’ll run riot/we’ll be glowing in the dark. there’s like a disorderly, disheveled beauty to this. say what you will about Coldplay, but some of their songs are like the musical equivalent of a rainbow.

anyways so now I’m gonna segue into some songs for a few of the season 4 characters. starting with...

Nighteye - While I’m Still Here (Nine Inch Nails) - ticking time is running out/yesterday I found out the world was ending. I still can’t get over how psychologically devastating Nighteye’s quirk is. it’s basically just Major Bummer: The Quirk. this season is really going to fuck me up emotionally isn’t it. a little more/every day/falls apart and/slips away/I don’t mind/I’m okay/wish it didn’t have to end this way. fucking hell. guess I better brace myself for some solid gut punches to the soul.

Eri - Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) (Florence + the Machine) - nothing to see here, just a little girl being treated as nothing more than a human bloodbank, and told that her quirk is nothing but a curse even as her abuser hoards it and uses it to wage a war. this is a gift, it comes with a price/who is the lamb and who is the knife?/Midas is king and he holds me so tight/and turns me to gold in the sunlight. but I also picked this song for Eri because of the way the POV slowly gathers up their courage and tries to fight back. I wish that I could just be brave/I must become a lion-hearted girl/ready for a fight/before I make the final sacrifice. excuse me I need to go hug Eri.

Mirio - Carry On (fun.) - okay so it was kind of hard to pick a song for Mirio, I think maybe I was overthinking it. anyways I ended up going with something hopeful to try and embody his endless, determined optimism. this song has kind of a quiet courage that builds up as it goes on. my favorite part is the second bridge: cause we are/we are shining stars/we are invincible/we are who we are/on our darkest day/when we’re miles away/so we’ll come/we will find our way home.

bonus: Mirio and Tamaki - Kids (Acoustic) (OneRepublic) - back when we were kids/swore we would never die/you and me were kids/swear that we’ll never die. lol at least we have one healthy childhood friendship to stan in this series.

and now on to THE VILLAINS, yay. this is probably the most musically cohesive section of this playlist, since VILLAINS!! means I can go with an overall darker ambiance.

All for One - Sympathy for the Devil (Neptunes Remix) (Rolling Stones) - didn’t even have to think about this one. please allow me to introduce myself/I’m a man of wealth and taste/I’ve been around for a long, long year/stole many a man’s soul and faith. this is the gentleman villain song and a perfect fit IMO.

Tomura - Pet (A Perfect Circle) - or really, this is more “AFO and Tenko”, I guess. manipulating a traumatized child into hating the world and raising him to become a killer. pay no mind to what other voices say/they don’t care about you like I do/safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils/see, they don’t give a fuck about you like I do/just stay with me/safe and ignorant. this is one of those songs where literally the entire song fits both lyrically and musically. just perfect. I’ll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices, son/they’re one and the same/I must isolate you/isolate and save you from yourself. like it’s a struggle here not to quote the entire song. ...eh, one more. swinging to the rhythm of the new world order and/counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums.

bonus: Flesh and Bone (Black Math) - Tenko angst. god that last arc was so fucking good. I walk alone, beside myself/nowhere to go/this bleeding heart that’s in my hands/I fell apart. stupid manga with its darkly compelling villain character arcs.

Dabi - Shadow on the Sun (Audioslave) - aaaangst lol. and I can tell you why/people go insane/I can show you how/you could do the same. p.s. Dabi you still owe me a flashback! also “shadow on the sun” is a pretty good metaphor for his relationship with Endeavor. fire quirks make for such great metaphor potential.

Toga - Bones (MS MR) - you know I really have no idea why this song pings me so hard for Toga lol. but whatever, it is what it is. marinate in misery/like a girl of only 17/man-made madness/and the romance of sadness.

Twice - Misfits (Third Eye Blind) - my people are the misfits/the ones that don’t fit in. this is another song that clicked pretty naturally without requiring much thought on my part. well those are the ones for me/yeah those are the ones for me/the misfits, the freaks, the enemy/you and me.

Spinner - Normal Person (Arcade Fire) - is anything as strange as a normal person?/is anyone as cruel as a normal person/waiting after school for you/they want to know if you/if you’re normal too/well are you? this song is such a burn on quirk society and all of its issues. I can’t tell if I’m a normal person, it’s true/I think I’m cool enough/but am I cruel enough? I especially love the ending -- if that’s what’s normal now/I don’t want to know.

and a bonus League of Villains song:

Everybody Wants to Rule the World (Tears for Fears cover) (Lorde) - just change “rule” to “destroy” I guess lol. help me make the most of freedom/and of pleasure/nothing ever lasts forever/everybody wants to rule the world. god I love this cover. this is one of those songs I’ll play over and over again anyway so it’s nice to have a good excuse what with the direction this new arc appears to be headed in.

and lastly, a couple of Hawks and Endeavor songs because they don’t really fit in any other section and I didn’t really plan out this post!

Hawks - Weapon (Matthew Good) - just a really nice, angsty theme for the man who goes too fast, off on his spy mission of doom. careful, you be careful/this is where the world drops off. plus some bonus angst about how he’s trapped in this role that he never wanted to be in. and you give in/and you give out for it/ain’t it so weird/how it makes you a weapon.

Endeavor - Find My Way (Nine Inch Nails) - lord my path has gone astray/I’m just trying to find my way/wandered here from far away/I’m just trying to find my way/you were never meant to see/all those things inside of me/now that you have gone away/I’m just trying to find my way. I don’t really need to comment more on this, do I? also, the part where Trent Reznor’s voice drops to a whisper and says please/I never meant for this, though. omg. Endeavor you’re such a bitch and you had all of this coming, but even so. oof.

and that’s pretty much it! she said, like this post wasn’t long af as it is lol. anyway so there are... 34 songs here, lol. I should probably try and put it all into a youtube playlist or something for convenience. I’ll edit once I’ve done that.

edit: playlist!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #class 1-a #bakudeku #league of villains #fanmix #bnha fanmix #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha

[lordendsavior]

In the latest episode of HBO’s new NSFW teen drama Euphoria, there was sex scene between Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson. Well, kinda. One of the characters in the show, Kat (played by Barbie Ferreira), is famous online for writing One Direction fan fiction, specifically about Larry Stylinson, the name given to the theory that Styles and Tomlinson were, in fact, lovers. The sex scene in the episode actually comprised of versions of the two former boyband members in an animated scene lifted from one of this character’s stories. It’s unfortunate that the animation left Styles looking a little like Lord Voldemort and Tomlinson like a sweaty teenage boy. 

But while that aspect of the show might not have been real, the conspiracy of Larry Stylinson very much is. Since One Direction were launched off the back of The X Factor in 2010, Tomlinson and Styles have been dogged by rumours that they are embroiled in a love affair. On Tumblr – a breeding ground for fan theories, fan art, fan videos and fan fiction – fans would collect GIFs, images and videos of the pair that “proved” that they were in a relationship. A lingering glance was decoded as a lustful stare, the brush of knees during an interview a sign of a secret intimacy. These in turn would mutate into smutty fan fiction about the pair, where these unspoken sexual wants could play out in full explicit glory.

In the tradition of Bennifer and Brangelina, their names, like their desires, were brought together for the portmaneu Larry Stylinson. Shipping them – the act of wanting two people to be together romantically – became a way of life for some fans. To this day, these fans, known as Larries, are unwavering in their belief, love and support of Larry Stylinson.

The same cannot be said for Louis Tomlinson. For nearly nine years, he has been dogged by rumours and speculation about his relationship with Styles. This latest outing of Larry in Euphoria is just another example of the theory’s pervasiveness. After the scene aired, some fans on Twitter messaged Tomlinson to see if he had been consulted about the scene. His reply was telling. “I can categorically say that I was not contacted nor did I approve it,” he wrote.

For years, Tomlinson has categorically denied that Larry is real. In 2012  he responded to a fan stating that “Larry is the biggest load of b——- I’ve ever heard”, and in a 2017 interview with The Sun, the Doncaster-born singer said that he found the rumours disrespectful of his relationships with women and shared how it had also affected his friendship with Styles. “It took away the vibe you get off anyone. It made everything, I think on both fences, a little bit more unapproachable,” he revealed. “I think it shows that it was never anything real, if I can use that word.”

The decision to include the animated Larry sex scene in Euphoria has provied divisive. On Twitter, One Direction fans have dubbed it “disrespectful”, “vile” and an “embarrassment”. Even self-professed Larries called out the scene and some fans went so far as to start a Change.org petition to have the scene removed from the episode. (At the time of writing it has over nearly 17,000 signatures.)

The fandom’s rejection of Larry, at first, seems hypocritical. How can the very people who have spent years perpetuating the narrative that Tomlinson and Styles are romantically linked show annoyance when that same narrative gets utilised in wider media? However, fandom, specifically fan fiction, is a contradictory and confusing beast. The thing is, Larry Stylinson is bigger than the two boyband members at its core. Their supposed romantic relationship really has nothing to do with them at all.

To give a brief history of fan fiction, the medium, while it always existed in some form, came to prominence in the 1970s in fanzines for the TV show Star Trek. Then known as slash fiction (the slash refers to the forward slash that divide the two characters, for example “Kirk/Spock”), these early writings reexamined scenes within Star Trek episodes where it appeared that there was coded queer behaviour, language or sexual tension. A chance meeting on the bridge of the USS Enterprise could result in steamy sex behind a computer console. A violent clash with a Klingon that left either Spock/Kirk injured, may end with a restorative tryst in a hospital wing.

As fan communities evolved from zines to online forums, so fan fiction became more widely accessible. Forums gave birth to sites like fanfiction.net and archiveofourown.org, where every intellectual property from Harry Potter to Bob the Builder was free game. And not every story written was sexual, either. Many fan fictions, while romantic in nature, kept their plots suitable for all ages. They also mainly took fictional characters and queered formerly heteronormative (or platonic) senarios.

Incorporating of real people – celebrities, public figures, popstars, actors, artists – into these stories propagated during this online boom of fan fanction. Portals like nifty.org had dedicated sections for celebrity fan fiction, while sites like Wattpad, a sort of social media site for writers to share their work, filled with stories about famous people. During One Direction’s imperial phase, Wattpad especially became a hive of 1D fan fiction.

And not all of it was slash fiction, either. Anna Todd’s popular YA novel After, which became a movie this year, had its beginnings as One Direction fan fiction on Wattpad. That story featured a heterosexual relationship. Her literary success follows in the footsteps of EL James, whose Twilight fan fiction was repackaged as 50 Shades of Grey.

Nevertheless, it’s fair to say that much fan fiction, smutty or not, specifically draws on queer narratives. The reasons for this are multi-faceted. Demographically, fan fiction is predominantly written by women. In the case of Spock and Kirk, it has been argued by academics that in queering their relationship, women were able to carve out safe sexual spaces in the world of fiction away from the dominant glare of patriarchal sexuality.

According to fandom academic Camille Bacon-Smith, the fact that the gender of the characters was the same allowed women to reconstruct men without the toxicity of masculinity. The American writer Joanna Russ added to this, suggesting that in this safe space, women were able to explore their fantasies outside the confines of heteropatriarchal normalcy.

In fact, Constance Penley, a professor of Film & Media Studies at the University of California, Santa Barbara, wrote in her book Nasa/Trek Popular Science and Sex in America that the gender of the characters was irrelevant. The act of having characters acknowledge their homosexual desires, she argued, was a metaphorical one, grounded in a desire to change “oppressive sexual roles”.

Still, exploring sexual desire with fictional characters doesn’t feel like an ethical problem. Neither, really, do private fantasies about real people. But fan fiction takes those private fantasies and makes them public. If authors like JK Rowling and Annie Proulx (Brokeback Mountain) take umbrage with fans writing their own stories using their made up characters, how do real people feel about having their lives dissected and fictionalised for entertainment?

The problem is the blurred line between celebrity and the human being. As celebrity’s lives playout on websites, television and physical media, their real life stories – often fabricated for headlines or sales – become a sport. There’s a twisted sense of ownership over these people. The public, as a throbbing and beating entity, made them famous. Their payment is their lives. The boundaries begin to disappear, and these human beings become characters in a soap opera. The internet, which its unending ocean of content, only helps to conjure more moments that fans can decode or adapt for their fics.

The implications of this are different for everyone. Stars like Benedict Cumberbatch and Andrew Scott, who played Sherlock Holmes and Moriarty respectively in the BBC’s cult favourite Sherlock, take the fictionalised versions of their lives in their stride. In an interview with MTV, Cumberbatch, while acknowledging that he found some of the racier stories weird, called it “flattering”. Daniel Radcliff and James McAvoy also seemed to be able to find the humour in it (although, again, acknowledging that they find it “really weird"). There’s also those who just outright ignore that this phenomenon exists.

Harry Styles, despite being one half of Larry Stylinson, has only ever alluded to it once. After the release of his debut solo album, fans speculated that the track Sweet Creature was about Tomlinson. In an interview with a radio station, Styles said: “I think people are always gonna speculate what songs are about, and I don’t think I’d ever want to tell anyone that they’re wrong for feeling what they feel about a song. Even when they’re not necessarily right. But I think if you really listen to the lyrics, I think you can work out if it’s really about that or not, and I would lean towards no.”

However, this level of ambivalence isn’t always easy. In a recent interview with British GQ, Taron Egerton expressed his discomfort with people writing fan fiction about him. “I don’t know why people think I’d want to see that,” he said. “I don’t love it at all.”

It seems that Louis Tomlinson exists firmly in this camp. And unlike these other celebrities, the ship he was involved in evolved into a full blown conspiracy theory. Fans accused management of keeping his and Styles’s relationship a secret. Paparazzi pictures, performances, interviews, press cuttings, tweets and Instagram posts were dissected for clues that the pair were linked. Tomlinson and Styles were bombarded on Twitter by fans, the first comment under every post on social media almost always being “Larry is real”. That level of scrutiny would have been difficult for anyone, but for a teenager progressing into young adulthood it was unbearable.

What’s debatable is whether any of these fans and their libraries of “proof” and “receipts” actually believe that Larry Stylinson is real or whether shipping them is just an extension of their fan fiction fantasies. For the millions of One Direction fans, the members of the group, while clearly real people, were also mythic, so far removed from their realities that they were almost imaginary.

Anyone who has ever truly obsessed over a band or musician can understand that this distance between true human interaction incubates a need to develop an alternative form of intimacy, be it through listening religiously to their music, attending concerts or cooking up fantasies.

And because of the inequalities in knowledge between celebrities and non-celebrities, where we know everything about them and they know nothing about us, these fantasies, and in turn our perceptions of them, become skewered. This mutation is the perfect breeding ground for fan fiction and conspiracy theories as we attempt to fill in the blanks in our intimate knowledge of celebrity lives.

In the case of One Direction, whose fans were mainly young girls and gay boys, this fantasy  became a way to explore their own sexual wants and desires. It’s what the showrunner of Euphoria, Sam Levinson, told The Los Angeles Times he was trying to convey by having the character of Kat write 1D fan fiction.

The fact that the members of that boyband were in a similar age bracket only intensified things. Intimacy and a coarse understanding of celebrity saw the lines between fantasy and reality blur, accelerated and magnified by social media. In a way, it stopped being about Styles or Tomlinson and became about the fans, the community they’d found, a safe space to explore their desires in which those desires were often mirrored and supported by others in their community.

Does all that make real person fan fiction okay? Speaking to i-D, sex psychologist Jess O’Reilly, put it like this: “How might is make someone feel? How would their parents, partner(s), kids or friends feel about reading it? How would they feel if their friends and family read your work? How would you feel if someone published a similar story about you, your child, your partner, your best friend, your sibling or someone else you love?”

For Tomlinson, who has repeatedly shared the impact the sexual speculation had on his relationship with Styles, maybe a line has been crossed. His discomfort with the theories and fan fiction, along with countless other public figures who take issue with it, should be respected.

And, really, in the pantheon of fandoms, Larry Stylinson was its own perfect storm of burgeoning internet cultures, the proliferation of social media and cute boys singing pop bangers. The need to share sexual desires in fan fiction and, by extension, romantic celebrity conspiracy theories, feels more complicated than mere right or wrong, but rather an expanse of grey, ethical ambiguity.

It also feels too late for it to stop, too. Perhaps, as the role and makeup of what constitutes celebrity evolves, accepting fan fiction in its myriad of forms, like with gossip and rumours, is par for the course. Clearly, it’s up to the individual to figure out if they’re okay with that.

#this is a very decent take on RPF

[displacedprincess]

y tú nunca juraste que saldría ileso || eleteo

Elena has a secret, and it’s time to tell Mateo.

Alternatively: McKala continues her tradition of titling Elena threads with a lyric of a Spanish song that only 12% fits because she likes the lyric 

@wizardroyale

ELENA

She’d known for a week she was pregnant. She was approaching three months pregnant by now, and now that she’d cried her eyes out to Naomi, discussed her options with her, and determined before anything she had to tell Mateo, it was time to do just that. God, but it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Naomi had, thankfully, cleared the apartment of everyone but Elena ahead of Mateo getting home from work which gave Elena enough time curl up in bed and panic over what she was going to say to him. In the end Naomi’s effort was fruitless and Elena had nothing nice and neat scripted. 

Elena had managed to stress cook. Not that shrimp fettuccine alfredo was fancy but it was something.

When the door opened, she was in the kitchen, portioning out two plates of her shoddy early dinner. “Mateo! I boredom cooked super early, you’re just in time for first dinner.” She hoped her plastered on smile was bright enough to hide how fucking terrified she was, but she should know better by now.

There was no hiding anything from a sorcerer, was there?

MATEO

It was a little after 3 o’clock in the afternoon when Mateo walked through the door, calling out a greeting to Elena. He’d immediately smelled the garlic in the air and knew that Elena had been cooking before she even had the chance to tell him from the kitchen. 

Before that, however, he had sensed the now familiar tension as he walked up the stairs. It had been clawing at his insides like a restless animal pacing for awhile now—anytime he was around Elena, actually. Between that and the Anxiety and Fear constantly swirling around her like a storm cloud behind the False Smile she wore, he’d been worried for her. 

He’d asked a few times if she was ok and had always gotten the same casual rebuff, so he’d decided to sit back and wait for her to tell him whatever was troubling her—whenever she was ready to tell him.

He grinned, dropping his backpack on the sofa before marching into the kitchen and catching her around the waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Ooh, that smells amazing, mi amor! I forgot to pack a lunch so first dinner sounds really good right about now.”

ELENA

Elena was very good at fake smiles. At the one year anniversary of her parents’ assassinations, she’d had to give a speech to Avalor honoring them and she’d be damned if she didn’t smile even while her heart was cannibalizing itself, was tearing itself into pieces. Right now, even her eyes almost looked like they believed the smile she wore.

At the kiss to her cheek, Elena did genuinely giggle. No amount of anxiety could make her love him any less and at least that bit of happiness she didn’t have to fake.

“Great, because I’m starving,” she said, bringing the plates and two forks to the table. She wasn’t all that hungry - throwing up almost everything you eat kind of makes you not want to eat - but having a fork and a plate of pasta gave her something to nervously mess with. 

She’d been careful not to eat anything she wasn’t sure was safe around Mateo since she found out she was pregnant. Elena wanted to be the one to tell him, not her stupid morning (terrible misnomer, by the way) sickness. 

“How was work? Didn’t get bitten by any clients?”

MATEO

Mateo loved it when Elena genuinely laughed, even if it was just a small giggle. Laughter was a sign of happiness and happiness meant he was doing his job as her boyfriend well. Truly, he wanted little more out of life than to make her as happy as possible.

Following her to the table he held a chair out for her, pushing it in before taking the seat beside her. He didn’t care how much she teased him for being silly or sappy, chivalry wasn’t dead and he would hold doors and chairs for her until the end of time. 

“It was fine,” he commented, swirling a few pieces of pasta onto his fork and taking a bite, “And nah. The clients all love me. I apparently have a calming presence or whatever.” He laughed, taking another bite before adding, “Mmmm! The shrimp alfredo is so good! Did you do something different this time? Like—I dunno, did you add more garlic, maybe?”

ELENA

Elena normally would’ve teased him, or at least acknowledged how sappy he was with a soft chuckle, but was such a mess of nerves all she could do was smile. It wasn’t fair that she’d kept it from him until this long, but at the same time...Mateo wasn’t the one pregnant. It was her body and she deserved a few days to sit with it and wrap her head around it for herself before telling him.

She’s only intended three, maybe four days, but it had been a week and she did think it unfair to let it get to eight days.

Still, the words weren’t coming and she wanted to talk about anything but that. Luckily he gave her an out.

“More garlic? Is it particularly garlicky? I haven’t tasted it yet, let me see.” Elena twirled some pasta onto her fork and stabbed a shrimp, pretty certain she’d be okay eating it. She’d eaten some pasta dish at work the other day with crab and didn’t throw up her guts, so! Shrimp alfredo had to be safe, right?

...right?

Wrong. Elena hadn’t yet swallowed her food before her stomach rejected it, doing its best to keep the offending food out, but Elena was like her father. King Raul and Elena shared the horrible habit of nervous-nausea, and Elena’d become an expert at willing herself not to throw up. The fear of the shame of vomiting on national television was a great motivator to just keep it down.

She wasn’t able to stop herself from heaving with a closed mouth though, clapping a hand over her mouth to keep from opening it. Elena swallowed hard, forcing her food down, and willed it to stay down.

“Fuck.” Elena mumbled behind her hand.

MATEO

Mateo did not miss the closed mouth heaving. He’d noticed she’d been nauseated a lot over the past few months—going back to their date on New Years eve—and every time he’d said something about it, she claimed to just be feeling under the weather. As if it were a lingering flu or something—a going-on-three-months-now flu. 

So when she covered her mouth with a muttered curse, he went on instant high alert. He had managed, however, to learn to remain calm during these instances—and that was progress, right? 

Instinctively, he reached over to place a comforting hand on her back and rubbed it gently, though worry sparked in his eyes. “Hey, you look like you’re going to be sick. You ok? Do you need help getting to the bathroom? Or I can grab the Tums? Some ginger ale? Whatever you need, just say the word.”

ELENA

Elena shook her head at everything Mateo suggested, keeping her hand clapped over her mouth. God, she really couldn’t deny it anymore, could she? 

“It won’t help!” Elena snapped, the pent up anxiety and tension just exploding. “It won’t help. I’m not sick, it’s- it’s worse. How can we both have been so oblivious, especially me? How did I not notice-”

She buried her face in her hands to hide her watering eyes. “I’m-” no, she should turn to face him. “I’m pregnant, Mateo. I’m pregnant.”

MATEO

I’m pregnant.

How could two little words have such a huge effect on one person. Ice coated his insides as a storm of thoughts and emotions burst into Mateo’s mind at those words. Shock. Fear. Panic. Worry. More fear. More shock. More worry. All of these emotions and more swirled in his mind as he stared unseeingly ahead, shaking his head in denial. 

Pregnant? Elena? How? When? Was it even possible? How long? Oh. My. God. What had he done?!

He was having trouble taking a breath as he tried to process the implication of what she’d just told him, though coherent thought alluded him. Did that mean that he—he being, Mateo—was going to be a dad? To a baby? With Elena? Oh. My. God.

A moment later, he snapped out of it, noticing Elena crying and realized that this had been the source of the fear and anxiety he’d been sensing coming from her. Words failed him as he scooted his chair closer and reached to wrap his arms around her and gently pulled her against his chest. 

“I—I don’t know what to say—” he finally managed to croak quietly, “Except that I’m so so sorry, Elena.” His own eyes filled with tears, stinging as he tried to blink them away, only managing to send them trickling down his cheeks. 

ELENA

Elena laughed mirthlessly and wiped at her eyes. Why was he crying? He’s not the one pregnant, she thought bitterly. It wasn’t fair to be so angry over his reaction because the logical part of her knew it was justified, but the emotional part of her was only thinking about herself. That was what made him a better person than her.

“Why are you apologizing, I’m the dumb bitch that can’t remember birth control pills.” Elena muttered, covering her face with her hand. 

“What are we supposed to do, Mateo? I can’t be pregnant right now. I can’t. I can’t, I can’t, and I’ve talked over all my options with Naomi and I can’t - I can’t think because I can’t wrap my head around it, and I want it to be a false positive but the hospital did a blood test and I really, really am like three months pregnant. Almost.”

MATEO

Why was he apologizing? Because he knew he was the dumb ass who had caused this, that’s why! It was all his fault, and he knew it! 

“Three months?” he echoed back in a hollow tone. He cast his mind back three months and that—that was right about the time they’d decided to ignore the doctor’s orders and just have sex anyways. And there was only one time in that time he could remember having completely unprotected sex—that very first time when they’d both literally lost their minds. 

He just—he needed to hold her, to help ground him and keep the panic at bay. He knew that as long as they were together, they could handle anything. 

But he also needed to look her in the eye, to tell her what he needed to say. So he pulled away, just enough to meet her gaze, keeping hold of her shoulders. He worried his lip, trying to find the words to say that might help and not make things worse.

Brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, he watched her with his eyebrows furrowed together, worried. “I—honestly don’t know? Just that, whatever we do, we’ll do it together. If you’ll let me, that is.”

He reached down and took her hands in his, saying, “I swear, I’m with you, Elena. Every step of the way, ok?”

ELENA

Elena shook her head and let it hang low as stray tears fell on their hands. She didn’t know what it was she wanted him to be there for her through, though. Yeah, she and Naomi had laid all her options out there on the table when they talked. They were both ardently pro-choice and Elena had not completely eliminated that option yet actually.

Still, not all of Avalor was on the same page as her and Naomi. Avalor was much less religious than the rest of Latin America, but Elena would have caused a scandal if she didn’t show up in public with an ash cross on her forehead on Ash Wednesday. Just ending the inconvenient, poorly timed, unwanted pregnancy would be her decision if she actually felt like she had the freedom to make the best choices for herself.

Elena wasn’t just Elena though. She was the rightful queen and deposed princess of Avalor. Every action even in secret could come to the public light even years later. Imagine the public shame if anybody found out.

So, no. Elena didn’t have a choice. Like it or not - and she hated her situation - she was pregnant, and going to remain pregnant.

“Having an abortion would cause a scandal if the hyper-Catholics in Avalor ever caught wind of it.” Elena said plainly, letting go of Mateo’s hands and holding her head high, blinking away the rest of her tears. “So that’s out even if I wish I could give it a fair shake as an option. If I was anybody but who I am, I would probably go that route.”

That wasn’t to say she didn’t want...she did want, one day, to marry Mateo and have children with him. Right now, while they were in exile from their home, was not the time. But Elena was not a woman whose body belonged to herself. As the first in line to the throne of Avalor, Elena was always expected to reproduce someday, and it was fortunate that Elena always knew she one day wanted to. 

As the ruling branch of the royal family of Avalor, the heir to the throne had two jobs. To prepare to rule with a fair hand, and to bear heirs to the throne. 

“So I have to have the -” she swallowed, unable to bring herself to say the word ‘baby.’ Not yet. “- I have to stay pregnant.”

Soon, when she was done processing what was happening to her life and to her body, she would be able to acknowledge it fully. As of now, she was still numb, still full of regret, and still felt so betrayed by her own body.

“That’s what is going on, so.”

MATEO

Having an abortion–– 

Now, Mateo was not the type to have an opinion on, let alone speak up about controversial topics the way Elena and Naomi were. The very idea of getting involved in such things filled him with anxiety to the point where he was useless and unable to function. Honestly, for the most part, he felt that most of those issues were best left to each individual.

Live and let live, right?

But when the word “abortion” came out of Elena’s mouth, directed towards her pregnancy––their unborn child that was part him––a fresh wave of sorrow, overwhelmed him. He didn’t know what to say, because of course it was her body and he had no say over what she chose to do with it. 

But their baby––the thought of never having the chance to meet them was upsetting to the point of tears. 

It was all so confusing. 

He loved Elena and wanted what was best for her, and their unborn child was part of her. Though, to a lesser extent, it was part of him too. He wanted Elena to be free to do what she needed to do for her own well being and happiness. But he also had this strange sense of wanting to do what was best for the tiny person that was growing inside her.

Regardless, he knew he would support whatever decision she made, even if it broke his heart.

And then there was the fact that she was doing that cold, calculating political thing she did whenever she talked about her position as ruler of Avalor. It made him crazy when she did that, when she put her own needs aside because of “the way it would look” to the idiots who had done nothing to help her since all of the political unrest began so many years ago.

“Just stop. Please.” he said, his tears drying up as he scowled, shaking his head. “This isn’t about what THEY think. They aren’t doing a damn thing to help you while you’re stuck in exile, so I don’t think they get a say in this. This is about what’s best for you and, to a lesser extent, what’s best for us. We’re the ones who have to live with our choices, not them.”

He sighed deeply and reached out for her hands again, giving them a squeeze. “Please, Elena. You know how I feel about the political image stuff. I get that its part of the “rightful queen of Avalor” package, but I don’t believe you have to do anything. You always have a choice. However, should you choose to stay pregnant, then I will be here for you every step of the way.”  He met her gaze evenly, determination sparking in his eyes as he insisted, “I’m not going to run away from this, I swear, Elena. I’m with you, always.”

ELENA

“Because they’re suffering more than me, living under a dictatorship! I forgive them, I do, even though there’s nothing to forgive.” Elena argued. “And you don’t understand. You don’t understand because you’re a commoner. You’re a private citizen whose life was always your own.”

Since her first breath Elena belonged to Avalor first, her parents second, and then herself. Her parents never said as much but her life experiences made that abundantly clear. 

Elena let out a cold, bitter laugh. “Sure, I have a choice. Nobody is holding a gun to my head. But neither option is ideal, so is it really a free choice? What’s best for me is undoubtedly to not be pregnant. But I don’t think you agree with me there. You don’t have to see reagents to see the face you just made. God, I should have just handled it on my own the second I knew and avoided this conversation, but now I’ve told you and — and now I can’t even look you in the eye and say I don’t want this. If you keep telling me I have permission to think selfishly then I might make the choice that’s best for me and I’m not convinced you’ll forgive me.”

She wriggled her hands from his grasp. “I never had an actual choice. My body belongs to the Flores royal family line. So I’m pregnant. And abortion is out of the question, so here we are, Mateo. Both on the most wanted list of a dictator and about to complicate things further.”

MATEO

At her words, Mateo flinched away with an audible gasp as if he’d been slapped, his eyes going wide and his brows knitting together as he stared, speechless. 

Really, if she’d wanted to hurt him, she’d found the perfect angle of attack—using his social status compared to hers against him. He knew all too well how common he was, and how not evenly matched he was for her. 

But then she started putting words in his mouth and making assumptions about his motivations and his eyes narrowed. 

“I think I’m starting to understand,” he said cooly, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms as if to warm himself, “First, you think I’m too common and too stupid to understand your position—not that I’m surprised, I mean, I’ve always thought so, so why shouldn’t you? And now I’m apparently not important enough to have thoughts and feelings worth even hearing if you already regret telling me before taking half a second to listen!”

The volume of his voice increased as he spoke until he was nearly shouting. It was the strangest thing—he wasn’t one for yelling, and certainly not at Elena. But everything in his mind was still spinning and he did not know how to navigate this new territory. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, willing himself to calm down—and willing her to calm down while he was at it, hoping it would work. He didn’t want to be mad at her, he wanted to help—even if letting her lash out at him hurt. He had it coming, didn’t he? This situation was at least half his doing.

“Look,” he said, quietly now, choosing his words carefully, “I’m sorry. Forget I even said that. This isn’t about me. I said I would support you, no matter what you choose, and I mean it. Take that however you want.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looking at the floor as he finished, “I just don’t want you to make a choice in either direction that you will regret, alright? And—I mean, like I said, its your body, your choice, right? But, if you want to know the truth, I will take a complicated life with you any day over a life filled with regret—because I’m not convinced you wouldn’t regret terminating this pregnancy later—wondering what might have been once its too late.”

ELENA

“Typical man.” Elena scoffed, not really meaning anything she was saying at this point. She was hurt and scared and when she was either of those things her instinct was attack, attack, attack with a poison tongue. 

“I wouldn’t regret it, because it would be the smart thing to do. I’m twenty-five years old Mateo, I think I understand my mind perfectly well. But.” She held up her hands and stood up from the table. “I told you I’m going to remain pregnant, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

She began to pace the floor, afraid she’d snap at him even worse if he touched her again, gave her comfort she didn’t deserve. 

“So I really don’t think we have to talk about it more.” They did. But Elena was trying to avoid it. 

MATEO

Typical man? His head snapped up at the barbed words. What the hell was that even supposed to mean? 

He watched her pace a moment, sympathetic. He couldn’t help but notice the way the venom coming from her mouth didn’t match with the reagents now swirling around her. She was scared and anxious and hurting and he knew that was a recipe for one angry wolverine of a princess. 

He made a split second decision, understanding that she was probably going to yell at him again, but also knew that she needed him—even if she was in 100% denial of any such thing.

Standing, he moved the few steps over to where she paced, folding her in his arms as soon as she turned around and held her tight. He didn’t have the words to fight and honestly didn’t think anything he could say would help. Actions would speak volumes where he couldn’t. 

He could feel her fear and tension pounding into him like a tidal wave, so hard it was almost painful and he struggled not to give into her frantic panic. He willed his magic to calm the fear, imagining it wrapping around her like a warm blanket or a hug. It wasn’t a skill he’d quite mastered yet, but he hoped it would help, if even a little. 

“It’s going to be ok, mi amor,” he murmured, so quietly it was almost a whisper, holding her close. “It’s going to be ok.”

ELENA

Elena made to throw Mateo’s arms off of her, but his presence that one second infuriated her just as quickly calmed her. Barely. She did not smile and she did not feel at ease but she didn’t feel like her heart was going to fly out of her chest. She didn’t want to lash out at Mateo anymore. 

She didn’t want to get away from him, and instead, wanted to be held. 

“You don’t know that.” Elena said quietly, almost a whisper. “But thanks for the sentiment.”

MATEO

Mateo sighed with relief when she neither pushed him away, nor did she yell at him. She relaxed ever so slightly in his arms, the raging storm of emotion receding a bit.

Perhaps the worst was over? He could only hope. 

“I do so know that,” he insisted, stroking her hair with on hand. “Because I know that as long as we have each other, we can handle anything that comes our way.”

Was that cheesy as hell? Yes. Yes it was. But he didnt’ think that made it any less true.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m shocked and terrified and have no idea how to do any of this,” he continued, his voice shaking with emotion, “But, I feel a lot better knowing we’re doing this together.”

ELENA 

Elena would’ve called him cheesy and smiled had she been capable of either of those things right now. While she couldn’t yet smile at or tease him, her white hot anger was still keeping its distance, and her anxiety was replaced with an uneasy calm. 

A numbness. 

“I really, really do appreciate that you’re trying to say things to make me feel better. And maybe you mean them, I know you mean them, but I’m just not able to believe them right now. Do you understand?” Elena said, apologizing with her facial expressions and tone but not with the actual words ‘I’m sorry I’m pregnant and not happy.’ 

“You have to understand that I am dealing with a lot right now. And so are you, I know that, but I’m the one—” she swallowed. “— I just want you to know that I appreciate you trying to make me feel better. I’m not going to feel better today but thank you for trying. Can we… can we give up on trying to make me feel better for today? I do feel better than I did an hour ago. But I think that’s the best we can do for today.”

She laced her fingers with his and did manage a thin smile. 

MATEO 

The truth was that Mateo hadn’t been aiming for sunshine and roses. Really, he wasn’t so foolish as to think that anything about their current situation was going to be easy and nothing but time would bring peace. 

If he was being honest, he was terrified and felt the old self loathing and guilt creeping in with whispers of “I told you so,” and “Look what you did, you’ve hurt her” and “They’d all be better off without you.” It took every ounce of courage and determination that he possessed to keep telling that voice to shut the hell up, and this was not about him. Elena needed him and he would be there for her. 

He could sense Elena’s panic and rage had receded, and that was enough for him. 

Returning her smile with a nod and a tiny smile of his own, “I understand,” he said quietly, “I won’t say another word about it until you want to talk.” He glanced around to the living room and their bedroom door beyond and then back at her, asking, “I think we could both use a quiet afternoon—how about a nap? Or maybe we could watch a movie on the couch? Or—” he cringed, shooting her an apologetic look before finishing, “If you don’t want to be around me right now, I—I understand. I can take the couch if you want to be alone in the bedroom.”

ELENA

“I wish I could sleep for weeks.” Elena lamented, burying her face in Mateo’s chest. 

Elena closed her eyes and just stood there pressed against him. She stayed safe in his warmth for a moment before sighing and figuring it was time to use words again.

“You can nap with me.” She said quietly. “I’d like that.”

MATEO 

A sigh of relief escaped him as she rested in his arms, perhaps not the same as always because this moment felt so big, like they were standing on the edge of a completely different unknown than any they’d faced before.

But she didn’t hate him for what he’d done to her and so long as that was true, he believed they would find their way.

He held her and petted her hair, more than willing to just be there in the moment as long as she needed him to be.

At her words, he simply smiled and nodded quietly, murmuring, “That sounds perfect,” before taking her hand and tugging her to the bedroom. He kicked his shoes off, pulling off his hoodie and jeans and slipped under the blankets, pulling the covers back to wait for Elena to join him. 

ELENA 

Elena couldn’t say anything. She was afraid if she did she would yell at him again and say things that she didn’t mean like “you wouldn’t understand, you’re a commoner.” The C-word wasn’t fair. It was too harsh.  

She curled up next to him and laid there in silence for so long that she thought he’d fallen asleep by the time she craned her neck up to look at him.

“Mateito. Are you asleep?” Elena whispered. A beat. “I shouldn’t have accused you of not understanding. I know how thoughtful you are and how much you think of me.”

MATEO 

Mateo was not, in fact, asleep. His arms had curved naturally around her when she snuggled up to him and he’d been lying there with his cheek resting against the top of her head. There were too many thoughts and worries and questions plaguing him and his chest far too tight to actually find sleep, but having Elena so close had brought a small amount of calm to the storm in his mind.

“Hmmm?” he murmured quietly, smiling a little at the familiar, childhood nickname. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I get it, you were upset. And maybe you’re right. I don’t understand the royal obligation thing as much as I should, seeing as I’m dating literal royalty.” He shrugged. 

“But I will always try to make sure you, Elena Flores, the woman I love, are taken care of first and foremost—even before our people. Because if I don’t look out for you, who will?” He said this matter-of-factly as he kissed her hair and tightened his arms around her.

ELENA

Elena craned her neck to press a kiss to his cheek and then buried her face in the crook of his neck. She did not feel like everything would be okay, no, but she felt a little bit better knowing that Mateo was in her corner no matter what. Not that she actually truly worried he wouldn’t be - this is Mateo she was talking about! - but the explicit verbal confirmation was a comfort.

“I forget, sometimes. That I’m a person, and not just an extension of the royal institution.” Elena admitted as she stayed pressed against his warmth. “Keep looking after Elena the Person, because Elena the Princess has enough people over her already.”

She exhaled through her nose and closed  her eyes. “Thanks for letting me have time to...sit with you and this information and let it really sink in. We can talk about it more tomorrow, but for today, just. Thank you. Thank you, Mateo. For being kinder than I deserve.”

MATEO 

Finally starting to feel a little drowsy, he held her a bit closer, resting his cheek against the top of her head and murmuring a simple, “You’re welcome.” A yawn slipped out as he added, “Te amo, Elenita, and I’m here for you. No matter what.” 

In spite of the whirlwind of emotion still going on in his mind, he closed his eyes and snuggled down under the blankets, feeling warm and sleepy with the woman he loved in his arms. Though he knew their lives would never be the same from that moment on, at the same time, it felt like nothing had changed. They still loved each other and they were in this life together.

He knew deep in his gut that even though nothing felt like it was ok in that moment, as long as they had each other, everything would somehow work out in the end. 

#eleteo #mateo #ta-daaaa

[lonelyreputation]

Different (part one)

A/N: Unrequited love! Unrequited love!! UNREQUITED LOVE!!! AHHH!!!

Okay here is the unrequited love that you’ve all been patiently waiting for!! Thanks for that! So I combined two requests together for an overarching theme and will circle back to those a few times during this mini-series!! As always, let me know what you guys thought of it!! I love hearing every detail of your thoughts!!

THANKS A MILLION for all of your support! Reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated!! 🤗💞🌻

REQUEST/PROMPT: People talking a room away & Fighting the urge to cry 

Let’s Chat!! | MASTERLIST

Warnings: Few swear words, some self-doubt, and ANGST!!! 

Word Count: 4.3K

You’ve found yourself in this position before: lounging on Shawn’s patio couch on a warm summer’s night, the lights of the CN Tower illuminating the bustling city streets below, nestled into Shawn with your head resting on his chest, arm lazily draped around your shoulder.  

The fire pit in front of you was giving off heat, but it was nothing like the warmth you felt in Shawn’s arms. His arms, always tightly wound around you, felt like they were protecting you from anything on the outside.  And at times, you even felt as if they protected you from your own dismissive thoughts.

Brian was telling a story, one that you had heard before, but since it was one of Shawn’s first night’s back from touring, he was telling it as if no one had heard it.  But you didn’t mind tuning out his voice, it gave you an excuse to give all of your attention to Shawn.

He was gone for so long.  Seeing his face through your iPhone wasn’t enough to ease the ache of your heart.  Whenever he laughed on screen you yearned to hear his laugh in person, and now you were granted with the pleasure of hearing it and feeling it rumble through his chest.  

Shawn’s fingertips lazily grazed your shoulder blades, sending electric jolts all the way down to the tip of your toes.

“So, Shawn,” Brian let out a little laugh, taking a sip of his beer, as he gave Shawn a pointed look, “Any girls on tour?”

Shawn’s fingertips paused their languid movements and you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Got my girl right here,” he squeezed your shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.  The familiar tickling sensation inside your stomach caused the corners of your lips to lift up in a small smile.

Brian let out another laugh, “Dude, c’mon, I’m not talking about your best friend––It’s just us,” he waved his hand around to gesture at the three of you sitting around the fire, “Secrets are safe here.”

The longer Shawn stayed silent, the further you felt your heart drop in your stomach.  Was there another girl? If there was, he made no mention of it to you on your every other nightly FaceTime calls.  The rational side of your brain was having a lethal fight with the irrational part.

He tells you everything, the rational part of your brain concluded, you would know if there was a girl.

But, the irrational section of your mind weighed in, he’s a young, single and very good looking guy there’s no way he went on tour and didn’t meet an equally beautiful girl.

A girl more beautiful than you.

It was times like this where your insecurities were too much to handle.  Your own thoughts maliciously attacking you.  It was times like these where Shawn’s tight hold on you was all you needed to feel safe from yourself.

“Swear on it man,” Shawn raised both of his hands up in surrender, briefly losing contact with your shoulder.  He leaned his body toward the table, and since your head was still resting on his chest, he took you with him, as he grabbed his glass of alcohol and took a sip, “No one for me.”

Brian didn’t look convinced, but you were more than happy when he dropped the topic and changed the conversation.  But with the way Brian kept glancing at the both of you cuddled up on the couch, you wondered if there was something you should be aware of.

•••

The next night you were over at Shawn’s it was just the two of you.  It was a tradition to get together within the first five days of him returning from tour and having a night reserved for just spending time together; it was always a movie night with tacos.

You brought all the ingredients over; spices, tortillas, condiments, and meat.  While Shawn provided the cooking equipment and his company.  You were never too fond of tacos, but when Shawn had returned home from touring his Handwritten album and crashed at your house, all he wanted to eat were tacos.  You remembered how excited he was to make the tacos, catch up with you––his best friend––after months of being away, and picking out the perfect movie to watch.

His idea of a perfect movie was 10 Things I Hate About You and he fell asleep halfway through it.

So, within five days of returning from a tour, without fail, you and Shawn always ate tacos and watched 10 Things I Hate About You.  

That’s exactly where you found yourself now.

Shawn had a fairly large kitchen, definitely bigger than the one in your apartment, and you cooked with a smile on your face with all the space you had to move around.  You chopped up the lettuce while Shawn took out a frying pan.

“Did you mix the spices together?” You called out over your shoulder.

You heard your answer when Shawn let out a deep sigh, “No,” Turning your head around you saw him holding the frying pan limply in his hands as he looked at you with hopeful eyes, “Can you mix them?”

Placing the knife down on the cutting board, you walked over to him with a smile, “It’s not that hard.”

Another sigh, “But you have to measure them and there’s a million fucking little spices––“

“Hey,” you placed a hand on his bicep and gave it a slight squeeze, “Don’t worry, I got it.”

When your hand touched his arm, all you felt was warmth.  Shawn was an abnormally warm person, but this kind of warmth was felt deeper within.  The warmth you felt whenever your skin touched his reminded you of home.  His presence was so caring and thoughtful that his whole body seemed to radiate that warmth.  And you would do anything in the world to savor that feeling for the rest of our life.

His eyes flickered down to where you held your hand as a shy smile lit up on his face, “I love you.”

I love you.

It wasn’t an uncommon phrase said in your friendship.  You both had said it countless times to each other before disconnecting your long distance phone calls, sent voice notes of the phrases to each other, and said it a million more times face to face when you were finally reunited.

But he didn’t mean those three words in the way you wanted to hear them.

You mixed the spices and Shawn took over your role of cutting up the vegetable toppings as your teasing drowned out the music in the background.  Cooking was something that was enjoyable and relaxing, but with Shawn, it brought a whole new layer of excitement.  You would smack his hand away from eating the cheese, scold him for touching the hot pan, and he would always give your hips a light squeeze whenever he walked behind you.

Once Shawn had cooked the meat and you set up everything in a buffet style, you two had taken to sitting on the barstools instead of at the kitchen table.  He was typing something on his phone with a smile on his face when you sat down next to him and asked what it was about.  He quickly locked his phone and placed it face down on the counter, looking at you with the same smile he had while looking at his phone. Don’t need to worry about it now, he said, I’m with you.

It was silent as you both started eating the meal you prepared together.

“I–ve––Ote––A––Ong,” Shawn spoke with his mouthful as he went to go in for another bite of his taco.  You tilted your head and raised your eyebrows, telling him you understood nothing of what he had just said.

He held up a finger as he finished chewing, and after he swallowed his food he said, “I wrote a song.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s what you get paid for, no?”

Shawn took another bite of his taco and slightly pushed your shoulder.  And with the skin to skin contact, you tried to bottle up that warmth that made your stomach do summersaults.

“I mean like,” he was thinking; eyebrows tightly pulled together as he bit the inside of his cheek trying to find the right words to say, “A song song,” your eyebrows continued to stay raised, having no idea what he was alluding to, “Let me just,” he fumbled with his phone that was sitting on the kitchen counter top, “Play it for you.”

The music he was playing from his iPhone throughout the speakers in his apartment cut off as a melody of guitar strings plucking together filled the room.  Shawn’s eyes were trained on the stings of his hoodie, avoiding your curious stare.

Twenty-five seconds in, the voice of the boy sitting across from you––the voice that you loved hearing ramble on about nothing in particular––started to sing.

You could be in Toronto, and I can be in L.A.

Your mind flooded with memories of Shawn always jetting off to L.A., while you were stuck in Toronto always patiently awaiting his return.  He’s been on more flights to Los Angeles than you had been on flights in your entire life.  And it never got easier driving him to the airport and squeezing him extra tight praying he would change his mind and stay in Toronto.

And if twenty years went by without you, I’d know our feelings wouldn’t change.

Your heart leaped in your chest, feeling as airy and happy as the guitar melody sounded when the chorus of the song came around.  You’ve always wanted to bottle up the warmth Shawn held, but this feeling was better.  This feeling of pure bliss––like everything in the universe was aligning just for you––made your toes tingle and the hair on your skin stick up.

You barely registered the lyrics in the second verse as you stared at Shawn with eyes wide in astonishment.  His way with words blew you away.  From the kid who was so nervous to pick up the pen on his first album to now not being able to put the pen down…He absolutely amazed you.

We’ve got that we don’t have to talk to know this love will never stop.

There weren’t many dry spells of conversation with your friendship with Shawn.  You could count on one hand when the two of you were too busy to talk to each other, but whenever the two of you would pick up your conversations, it was like no time had passed.

Oh, we’ve got it.

He looked up, staring into your eyes. You thought you were seeing the same different kind of love in his eyes that you’ve been holding in yours for too long now.

Oh, we’ve got that different kind of love.

•••

It wasn’t unusual for Shawn’s lavish Toronto apartment to be the place for parties.  Even when he was away on tour, Brian still managed to either sneak in with a few friends or have a full on party.  And where you found yourself now––politely saying excuse me while trying to slide behind two people to get to the kitchen––it was one of those full blown parties thrown by Brian for Shawn.

It took a bit of convincing, but Brian wanted to really celebrate his best friend’s return after a successful leg of his tour.  His apartment wasn’t packed, per se, but everyone seemed to be congregating in his living room area.

The music could barely be heard over the hoots and hollers of the guests, there were a few sticky spots on the ground where your shoes stuck (you made a mental note to clean it up in the morning), and nobody seemed to understand the concept of personal space.

You finally escaped into the kitchen where people only came in for a second to make another drink and then went back out to join the party.  You broke the status quo by leaving the party in the living room for the tameness of the kitchen.  The air felt cooler around you, not being pressed up against so many bodies, and you took a deep breath.

“There you are,” your ears perked up at the familiar voice, “Was looking for you.”

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who was talking.  All you had to do was listen to the increased beat of your heart in your chest.  His arm curled around your stomach as he pulled your back into his chest.  The warmth you felt was in overload.

Shawn pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head, “You weren’t gonna leave, were you?”

You shook your head, grateful that he wasn’t able to see the blush on your cheeks, “Leave a Shawn Mendes party early?” You let out a small laugh that you hoped covered up your nervousness, “Never.”

Shawn let out a boisterous laugh as he spun you around, out of his grasp.  Your back was now pressed against the cool kitchen countertop you had made tacos on a few days prior.  The hand he had gently placed on your hips was getting all of your attention.

“Good,” he whispered, “Don’t know what I would do if you left.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, “Brian doesn’t know how to handle his alcohol.”

You wanted to let out a loud laugh, but he was so close, if you moved your head just an inch forward your noses would brush up against each other, and you didn’t want to scare him away.

“Lucky me,” you contained your laugh into a wide smile, “To play the responsible adult.”

Shawn moved his face the inch closer to yours.  You didn’t know what to do as the tip of his nose slightly brushed against yours.  There had been a few drunk kisses shared between the two of you, but you were sober and so was Shawn.  At least he seemed sober in your eyes when he whispered the next words with a bit of edge to them.

“Lucky me.”

Your eyes stayed wide open as his fluttered shut for only a second before someone yelled out his name.  And that someone was Brian.

You stayed pressed up against the counter, eyes wide open as you stared over Shawn’s shoulder to see Brian looking at you with the exact same facial expression; confused, but not all that surprised at how you found yourself pressed between Shawn and the counter.  While you were starting to feel unease from the situation, Shawn stayed firm in his place, his hand was now rubbing soft circles into your side.

“Hey, Uh––“ It was the first time you had heard Brian speechless, “Cleaning supplies? Tyler just–––“

Shawn let his head drop to your shoulders, “Fuck,” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear, already knowing what Brian’s sentence was leading to. His breath was hot against your neck, causing your own breath to just stop.  And just like how fast his eyes closed in front of you, Shawn let go of your waist and walked out of the kitchen with Brian trailing behind him.

You stayed in that position for five minutes staring blankly at the wall across the way, still not believing what you thought was about to happen.

“Y/n?” Snapping back into reality, you saw your friend Olivia mixing herself a drink with a look of concern on her face, “Good?

Your mouth went dry as you tried to string together your thoughts, “I––Yeah there’s––Why wouldn’t I––“

“I saw you with Shawn.”

Her blunt words cut you off.  You didn’t think anyone, save for Brian, had caught you in that compromising position with Shawn.  But it wasn’t like you and Shawn were an item.  You weren’t anything but friends.  Best friends.

You tried to wave her off as you joined her to make your own mixed drink, telling a little white lie, “He’s an affectionate drunk,” the coldness of the glass wrapped inside of your hand served as a wake up call.

Olivia gave you a pointed look as she took a sip of her drink, “Y/n, you should tell him.”

You pretended like you didn’t hear her as you continued taking sips of your drink.  Olivia was a good friend of yours, and it was on your second bottle of shared wine after a much too stressful exam season, that you let it slip that you were in love with your best friend.

You set your near empty glass on the counter, “I can’t–––He doesn’t feel the same way.”

Olivia raised her eyebrows, she didn’t believe you, and neither did you for a minute.  In that moment Shawn had you pressed against the counter, you believed that maybe he did feel the same way about you.  But he was so quick to remove himself from you that it diminished any hope you had.

“He was all over you,” she smirked, “Got some heads to turn into the kitchen.”

You blushed at the thought of anymore people intruding on your little moment with Shawn, “He has been acting a little differently since he’s gotten back,” you tried to rationalize with yourself, “Maybe he…does?”

There was skepticism in your voice, mixed with a little bit of hope, like the vodka coke you had in your hand.

“Go,” Olivia offered you a reassuring smile as she nodded her head in the direction Brian and Shawn walked off to, “Tell him.”

With a single nod, you downed the rest of your drink, but kept the glass in your hands.  You needed something to keep your hands steady and in place or you would be more of a nervous wreck than you already were.

Confessing to your best friend that you love him? The irrational part of your brain spoke up, you know he doesn’t feel the same so save yourself the heartbreak–––

But, the rational part of your mind interrupted, he is your best friend, you should be able to trust him with anything, and if for some reason he doesn’t love you back it shouldn’t change your friendship.

You fought to silence both parts of your brain, neither of them helping your confidence right now, as you walked down the hall to where you knew Shawn and Brian were.  He always kept his cleaning supplies in the linen closet in the hall bathroom.  Each step you took felt like twenty, but before anymore anxiety ridden thoughts could swarm your mind, you found yourself outside of the bathroom door.

The light that illuminated from under the door told you that they are still in there.  The door was cracked up a smidge, and you were able to see a sliver Shawn’s side profile. With a deep breath, you raised your hand to knock on the door, but stopped mid-way when you caught wind of their conversation.

“So,” it was Brian who started talking first, “What was that back there?”

“What was what?” He was playing dumb, just like you had done with Olivia.

Brian let out a scoff, “Y/n?  Dude, c’mon, you know what I’m talking about.” His words were slightly slurred together, letting you in on that Brian was tipsy.

There was a pause on the other side of the door and you could see Shawn slightly shrugging his shoulders, eyes avoiding Brian’s questioning gaze. 

But then he spoke up, changing the conversation completely onto someone else, “Miranda keeps texting me.”

You had never heard that name before.

“Miranda?” Brian asked, “Is she the one from L.A.?”

Brian spoke as if there were other girls he kept around the world for whenever he traveled.  And he spoke her name as if he was familiar with it.

“Yeah,” Shawn said as you heard a cabinet door shut, “She came to the shows out there.”

“And?”

You were pressed up close to the door, torn between wanting to hear about the girl who Shawn was smitten with and wanting to run out to the kitchen to continue living in your head, convinced that Shawn loved you back.

“I like her,” but what made your heartbreak even more was how you could hear the smile on his face, “I like her a lot.”

You held your breath.  The vodka coke that had coated your throat in confidence was now as dry as a desert.  You swallowed the lump in your throat, but it came right back.

Brian sounded just as shocked as you felt, “But––A few minutes ago––What about Y/n?”

There was a pause.  You pressed your lips tightly together in hopes for it to stop the trembling you felt coarse throughout your body.  Hands balled in fists at your sides, you screwed your eyes shut and started to count to ten, wishing you could wake up from this nightmare.

One…Two…Three…Four…

“She’s different.”

Different.  You were different in every way possible than this new girl who had captured his attention.  You were different in that he didn’t have feelings for you like he did for this new girl.  He didn’t love you like you loved him.

The tightness in your throat was beginning to be too much, your throat scratchier every time you swallowed your tears back.  The piercing sting behind your eyes started to hurt.  You had never been pricked with tiny needles on your skin, but you imagined it felt something similar to the pain behind our eyes.

“Besides,” Shawn cleared his throat, “She’s just a friend.”

He didn’t even call you his best friend.

And when you thought that the boy you loved so fiercely couldn’t say anything more to ruin your confidence, he decided to speak once more, “I’ve never––I don’t love her.”

It was with that last sentence, the one sentence Shawn spoke with an unnerving amount of confidence, that hit your heart like a hammer.  Throughout this whole conversation, you slowly felt your heart being picked away at with an ice pick.  Each part of your heart that broke off held a memory full of love that was now forgotten in the pit of your stomach.

“Who said anything about loving her?” As tipsy as Brian was, he was quick with his question.

Shawn avoided his question all together, “We’ve got some cleaning to do.”

The hall bathroom wasn’t large, so you knew they would be out in a matter of seconds.  And if you didn’t move fast enough, it would be revealed that you had heard their whole conversation.

You ran down the hallway, feeling your heart being destroyed even more with every step back into the kitchen.  The conversation played in your head, having a hard time believing what you had just heard.  

Told you so, the irrational part of your brain mocked you.

The rational part of your mind stayed silent.

You angrily wiped away a stray tear that had leaked past your eye, cursing at yourself for being so stupid.  

With the scattered state your mind was in, as it uselessly tried to mend your heart, Brian and Shawn’s footsteps caught you by surprise.  The glass in your hand fell from your grasp as it shattered into little shards on the floor.

The broken glass looked a lot like how your heart felt.

Quickly, you dropped to the ground, collecting the little pieces of glass in your hand.  You pricked yourself a few times, but you were numb to everything around you that it didn’t matter.

“Y/n––Hey, stop-–Let me get it––Y/n.”

You stopped picking up the shards of glass when you felt his hand circle around your wrist.  You didn’t look up at him until he said your name again.  There had never been a time where you didn’t want him to touch you.  That’s all you yearned for when he was away; his touch.  Whether it was an accidental brush of your fingers, a slight squeeze to your hip when you were cooking, or his head on your shoulder when he fell asleep during 10 Things I Hate About You…His touch was all that mattered to you at one point.

But even after unknowingly breaking your heart, his touch was still warm.

“Are you okay?” He still kept a hand locked around your wrist, “What happened?”

But now you wanted nothing more than to rip yourself of his hold.  You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, nauseous as he looked into your eyes with such concern, but the worst part was, you still loved him.

“Yeah, I…” you broke eye contact with him, knowing that the sting behind your eyes was begging for another reason to overflow.  And staring into his eyes would cause the floodgates to open, “Just clumsy.”

You let out a small laugh as he slowly released his grip in your hand, “Leave it, I’ll clean it up after I take care of Tyler’s mess.”

And just like he did earlier in the night, he left without a second thought.

Knowing Shawn like the back of your hand was a skill you were proud to have.  You could always tell by the tone of his voice if something was off and wouldn’t back down until he told you.  Every eyebrow raise, nose twitch, certain looks he would get in his eyes that let you into how he was feeling…You were able to pinpoint his emotions in a matter of seconds.

Maybe, you thought to yourself, just maybe he doesn’t know you as well as you thought.

#so………yeah #that happened #😃😃😃😃 #angst central on this blog!!!! #just get read for the next part! #ready** #now that! #that will be heartbreak!!! #there'll be some confrontation!!! #the REAL heartbreak comes in the next part slkdfj #cheers to unrequited love!!! #Shawn mendes #Shawnblr #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes fan fic #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes x y/n #Shawn Mendes x reader #Shawn Mendes x you #Shawn Mendes angst #Shawn Mendes drabble #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes drabbles #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Peter raul mendes #Shawn Mendes oneshots