#[ but the difference in perspective on either end is just so wild to me

[barrenclan]

Oh my god. Ohhh my god. I got the dream curse.

So me and my friend group(none of the read patfw irl) were at some patfw event. It might have been a panel at some convention? You were there. So after the event is finished, you set aside me and my friends(I don’t know why, you just liked our vibes or something) and revealed something huge— PATFW was actually a secret adaption of a little known book written long ago. You took an old, musty paperback, and the cover was of Pinepaw in the wasteland, but this time Deepdark was standing menacingly behind him. You gave us all a turn to read a bit from it. It read like your typical old school xenofiction(Watership Down, Redwall, etc) It was similar-ish??

Here were the differences:

No pictures

No queer characters, everyone was either straight or celibate

Deepdark was written in a more positive light, like he was some vigilante warlord roaming the wastelands bringing “justice” to the weaklings that deserved it, Barrenclan happen to be one of his targets??

So much perspective switching. So much. Still mostly important characters, but random background characters got to get their chance to narrate the story. All first person.

So then you revealed that nobody else could know because the story was ghostwritten by a now famous author who would sue you into oblivion if they found out. But you also wanted to make a tv adaption of PATFW. We asked if we could help.

And then the dream ended.

The idea of hosting a PATFW panel is so wild... would you show up and listen to me yap about symbolism?

Actually the idea of me adapting some weirdass mid-century book is the most realistic behavior of me as a person that anyone's ever had in a dream.

Actually literally so canon.

He's coming for you...

[immolatiism]

[ You ever think about that fact that, for Kuwabara, killing demons is arguably the morally correct thing to do? In spite of the fact that he rarely strikes the killing blow, he is technically protecting his species by doing so. He is also the only one who actually volunteered for the job.

[ Meanwhile, Hiei's involvement in the Spirit Detective saga is just straight up murder. It's certainly a reflection on Reikai's priorities that they are willing to claim Hiei as one of their own for a time, and take credit for his involvement in Yusuke's Spirit Detective career, but the fact that Hiei does his job by killing really doesn't seem to bother anyone. Hiei would much rather take the credit for those murders himself than be labeled a traitor, but that's not going to stop him from doing it anyway.

[dailydragons]

I am not immune to this propaganda…

Do you like long fantasy series, but are tired of authors never finishing them?

Do you like interesting magic systems?

Do you like when characters form intense even psychic bonds with animal companions?

Do you like your heart getting ripped out of your chest and then stuffed back in full to bursting and but then ripped out again to get stomped on but it turns out you like that too uhhh let's call it... intense yearning

Do you like dragons? Of course you do, why else would you be on this blog!

WELL DO I HAVE THE BOOK SERIES FOR YOU!

The Realm of the Elderlings is a 16-book series is comprised of four trilogies and a quartet. All of which have been finished. Yes that's right, Robin Hobb saw other authors who can't seem to finish their multi-book fantasy epics and said "I will finish mine 4 different times to show you it's incredibly easy actually." She also has written multiple other series (some under the pen name Megan Lindholm), set in different universes.

So, where to start?

The components of RotE are:

The Farseer Trilogy

The Liveship Traders Trilogy

The Tawny Man Trilogy

The Rain Wild Chronicles

Fitz and the Fool Trilogy

The three bolded trilogies above are told from the perspective of FitzChivalry Farseer, one of the main/major characters in this universe and my eternal blorbo. The Liveship Traders trilogy and Rain Wild Chronicles are told from several points of view, and happen in chronological order between the series above and flesh out the worldbuilding, lore, history, etc.

For the most complete look at the universe, you can of course read everything. However if you want to stick with just one character, you can read the three bolded trilogies only. And of course, if you don't want to commit to a metric ton of words either way, you can just read the first trilogy and see what you think. Though I do think the levels of joy/pain/adoration increase with each work as you get more invested in the characters, of course.

OR. You can in fact read the Liveship Traders trilogy or the Rain Wild Chronicles quartet completely independently of the others. I actually started with Rain Wild Chronicles because those books have the highest concentration of dragons--it was actually a follower of this blog who recommended them to me, and I decided to jump into those rather than commit to The Whole Series (which at the time was only 13 books not 16). But I loved the writing style and wanted to learn more about the world, so got into the rest, and now I actually think the Rainwilds books are the weakest of the bunch (though I still enjoyed them initially)!

But You're Following This Blog, DailyDragons, So Here's The Part Of The Pitch You're Actually Invested In

Now I will be up front that you don't get many dragons in the first trilogy. There are a kind of dragons that appear at the end but dragons are not the main focus of this one. However Hobb learns from her mistakes about not including tons of dragons in her fantasy world and you get more in the next parts of the series.

The Liveship books deal with sea serpents and dragons in very interesting ways I don't want to spoil, though it's a slow build. But VERY fascinating reveals into the dragon's biology, life history, and magic.

The plot of the later half of the Tawny Man Trilogy revolves around dealing with how the world of this story used to have dragons but they have practically gone extinct. Less direct contact with dragons but still a dragon-centric last book.

Rainwilds is chock full of dragons. Including as POV characters. Can't complain about lack of dragons here at all.

Fitz & The Fool Trilogy is lighter on the dragons at first and then they show up en force at the end. Ta da!

anyway please read these books and join me in my eternal suffering. wait, suffering? nevermind who said that. shhh. it's fine. you will love fitzchivalry farseer. you will love the fool. you will never be the same again.

[karenandhenwillson]

I've seen so much discourse about Bucktommy and especially Tommy and it is so wild. I just want to write down some of my thoughts over all of it because that tends to help me to stop thinking about it.

"Oh, how can anyone just abandon Buddie for Bucktommy?"

Has anyone really abandoned Buddie, though? Or are they just for the moment very excited about a new and so very carefully portrait queer story line? Just because some people talk more (or for the moment only) about Bucktommy, doesn't mean they don't like Buddie anymore. They just have something shiny and most importantly canon to fawn over for the moment.

Also, I'd like to give that question back: Why aren't you all excited for a carefully and softly portrait new queer storyline about a character a huge part of the fandom—including the actor himself—hoped for years would get a queer story line?

And it's a pretty unique queer story. Of course, we had Michael figuring out his sexualtiy and growing comfortable in it right at the beginning of the series. But there are some huge differences between Michael's story and Buck's story.

For one, we ended up in the middle of that story. Michael had already done a huge part of the work of getting to know himself. He was ready to live as a gay man. And second, nothing of what we saw until season 3 was from Michael's point of view. It was all from Athena's point of view. 

So it was a "coming-out late in life" story line, sure. But it was a queer storyline from a straight perspective. And in some instances, from a very hurt perspective about it all (which are, of course, very valid emotions for Athena, May, and Harry, but it still gave the queer side of the story line a certain taint). And they did that beautifully, too, no doubt. I especially liked that the family didn't break over it, that they grew with that experience, and that Michael and Athena became great friends over the years.

But now we also have a "coming-out late in life" story line from the queer perspective! 9-1-1 is pretty much the only series I'm following right now, so I have no idea if we had something similar recently. But from all the talk I've seen, it's pretty damn unique, especially for a male bi character. So, of course a lot of people are super excited about it. Because it's honest and good representation that the writers and the actors are handling with a lot of care.

"Oh, if it were a female love interest, you'd all hate her again!"

First of all, go back read that paragraph about many people being excited about getting a queer story line again! I think that's about 40% of the answer for everyone wondering about it.

And then, of course, Tommy has now already more depth and character and background than we ever saw about Ali or Natalia. And despite some people claiming he didn't have any kind of redemption arc, he truly had a lot more of a redemption arc than Taylor ever got even if only glimpses of it were ever shown on screen. (Maybe I'll get into my thoughts about that in another post.) Not gonna talk about Abby, because I think most of the dislike for her came long after that relationship was over after she ghosted Buck (and after Eddie had shown up).

One huge difference between every love interest of Buck or Eddie we have seen in the past to Tommy is also, that Tommy gets along really well with Eddie. We've already seen a friendship develop there. That never happened with any of the women either Eddie or Buck dated before. We saw that one dinner Buck and Taylor had with Eddie and Chris, but it was very clear it was the first time, and that was over half a year into Buck and Taylor dating, probably more like nine months.

If you wear slash googles around Buck and Eddie or not, their deep friendship is undeniable. It's very much canon that they both have a hand in raising Chris. Any love interest coming in has to deal with that, and has to somehow fit into that friendship. Tommy is the very first love interest in canon we have ever been shown to have that potential at all.

I'm personally part of the fandom that thinks that Buck and Eddie have great potential in a romantic way, BUT that they are first and foremost soulmates, no matter if platonic or romantic. And at least the Bucktommy fics I've read so far have all acknowledge the friendship of buck and Eddie and Chris' role in Buck's life. With Tommy being very accepting and supportive of it. (Though, I admit I’m very careful in my selection process.)

"Oh, Bucktommy is only a steppingstone for Buddie anyway! Don't get so invested in it!"

Who are you tell anyone what they should get invested in? I also think, with the excitement right now, even if Bucktommy break up, the ship itself will live on in fandom.

And also, didn't any of you learn out of the cheating story line they settled Hen and Karen with?

There is barely any content for Henren*. And I've been looking! Most stories they are tagged in don't really focus on their relationship. And those who do focus on their relationship get barely any attention. And you know why that is? Because a lot of people can't or don't want to deal with the cheating. (I deal with it by trying to ignore it or seeking out content where it's fixed!) Do you all really want to have a second queer story line that centers around cheating?

And even if none of you care for Henren (which... I know many don't *shrugs sadly*), have you all already forgotten the real pain over Buck kissing Lucy and then not fessing up to Taylor about it right away? (Once again, I deal by either ignoring it or seeking out content that fixes that bullshit.)

I'm honestly pretty disgusted by all the speculation about 7x06 that has anything to do with Buck and Eddie cheating on Tommy and Marisol during the bachelor party. And even more so about all the fics one can find about that, or that use Tommy as a device for Buck and Eddie realizing they are in love. (Honestly, even filtering out the other relationship tag while looking for stories in one relationship tag doesn't prevent one from stumbling over those stories right now, no matter if one is currently looking for Buck/Tommy or Buck/Eddie stories. It's so fucking annoying. I've turned to only reading old Buddie fics for the moment.)

Aside from the whole cheating of it all, why do any of you think the next episode will focus on anyone else but Maddie and Chim?

"Bucktommy is so racist! But really, no surprise in this fandom!"

What's no surprise is that "racist" is once more used as a buzzword in this fandom. To the point that BiPOC fans of Bucktommy are being told they are racist for the ship they like. (Nothing new about that in this fandom either.) Honestly, half the arguments about why the ship is oh so racist either make my head hurt while I try to follow the many, many, many mental loops people are making to get there, or they just make me laugh outright.

Do some of you really believe it when you say "Buck got together with a White man instead of his Latino best friend, so of course that's racist!"??? I'm just... Are you okay? Do you maybe need something warm to drink, a snack, and a nice place somewhere in the sun far away from the internet to just enjoy nature for a little while?

As I said, I'll probably make another post about Tommy's redemption arc over the whole "He is an unrepentant racist and misogynist". That redemption arc exists and has been baked in since season 2 (even if some of people clearly lack the media literacy to see it). Though, other people already put together great meta posts about this. But maybe if there are enough of it, some people will for once acutally read and start to think instead of continuing to spew their hate.

*PS: If anyone has good Henren contant, especially fanfiction, feel free to drop me a DM. I'm always looking!

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Ok so I had this thing bubbling in my head today. FIRST A DISCLAIMER: I 100% acknowledge that Taylor’s music is written from her perspective, from her gaze, about her own experiences and feelings. Just getting that out of the way.

But after thinking about the New Year’s Day/Peace medley from last night, it kind of hit me that there are several references in her discography to her making a commitment (to Joe), but there aren’t any of him reciprocating, or a mutual future being built.

(Again: I know that this is Taylor’s music, not Joe’s, so obviously she’s going to speak about her side of things.)

Even as early as reputation, we start getting references that this is the Big One for her, e.g. New Year’s Day’s “I want your midnights,” “you and me forevermore.” We continue to see more of these sprinkled throughout her subsequent discography, e.g. on Lover with Lover (“can we be this close forever and ever?” “I’ve loved you three summers now honey but I want them all,” the entire bridge being like wedding vows), Paper Rings (“I like shiny things but I’d marry you with paper rings”), All of the Girls (“I want to teach you how forever feels”), folklore’s invisible string (“one single thread of gold tied me to you”) and peace (“give you my wild give you my child” along with, like, the entire rest of the song), evermore’s Cowboy Like Me (“that was before I locked it down,” “forever is the sweetest con,” “I’m never gonna love again”).

Midnights obviously has its share of references too, though interestingly maybe less overt than the other albums? Sweet Nothing implies a shared home she’s running home to, as does Hits Different (…). The Great War is probably the most obvious with, “I vowed I would always be yours ‘cause we survived the Great War.” There’s also “I wanna brainwash you into loving me forever,” in Paris and “I’m fastening myself to you with a stitch,” in Glitch.

The most obvious reference to her commitment that we hear is on You’re Losing Me, with “I wouldn’t marry me either” implying that it was something that was discussed and a point of contention given the way she spits it out in the bridge and there are also the references to their shared home (“remember looking at this room, we loved it cause of the light,” “every morning I glared at you with storms in my eyes,” “do I throw out everything we built or keep it?” Etc.).

Yet throughout these songs, where she’s saying she wants to be with this person forever, she wants to show him how forever feels, she wants to marry him, etc., in retrospect they’re kind of one-sided. AGAIN I UNDERSTAND THAT THAT’S BECAUSE THESE ARE TAYLOR’S SONGS. But it’s interesting that when she does sprinkle in references to his side of things, they’re directed at her (e.g. “You said I had to trust more freely,” “You say ‘I don’t understand’ and I say ‘I know you don’t,’” “You say ‘what a mind’,” and so on). It’s like she captures his reaction to her actions, but not that he’s in this with her.

I repeat: I know that this is because this is Taylor’s music, not Joe’s, and she’s writing about her experience of these situations. But in retrospect, and with everything we’re finding out now, it’s just really interesting that the way she wrote about commitment/marriage/family in her music about this period in her life was about what she wanted, what she brought to the table, what she hoped for the future, etc. But she didn’t write about how her partner made her feel about those same commitments. She vowed to always be his, but we don’t know if he vowed to be hers after the war. She fastened herself to him, but did he rip the seam? She wanted to marry him with paper rings, but YLM indicates the feeling may not have been reciprocated after all at the end of the day. Etc. In her music at least, looking back it’s like there isn’t as much reassurance on the other person’s end that this is what they wanted after all, especially by Midnights.

I know this is a jumble of thoughts and by no means a literary analysis of her discography, but it’s just kind of hit me out of the blue today in ways that I think were completely unintentional, but with the imminent release of TTPD, the secret songs on tour and the general ~vibes~ of what we’re all picking up these days, I think we’re in for some more emotional damage by this next album.

[its-the-sa]

Different anon. God just boiling down the slugcats to 'animals' angers me in a way I didn't think I could be angry. Yes, they are animals, but by all means they are cognitive and understand complex emotions, communicate with a supposedly complex language, are able to be taught to do things. Why else would the iterators use them as messengers constantly? It's not like they're messenger pigeons where it's just going from point A to point B, they understand exact instructions. If this was just some random animal, making groans and grunts, they wouldn't be able to understand what Five Pebbles even meant when he was explaining how to ascend. Even with the mark, could you imagine if he told a lizard this? Artificer, arguably, is a prime example of this. Just an animal would get over their fallen children, sure they'd grieve but in the end they'd just make more. Arti not only is so enraged by their death, that she is physically incapable of ascension, but also swears vengeance upon a whole other species. This isn't just some animal who lost her children, this is a mother who is enraged at her children's murder. Sure, they aren't on the same level as humans are. Like obviously. But I'd argue it makes sense that a scavenger and a slugcat could fall down the path of enemies to lovers. Especially when you consider the fact that death isn't permanent in Rain World's universe. That would definitely change one's perspective on it. I dunno if I make sense, I'm juggling like three things at once, but I had to say what I needed to say. Wording bad, slugcat smort.

tbh it took me a minute to figure out what this was even referring to, because honestly I don't think that anon meant to use the word 'animal' to dehumanize arti in the first place. it sounded to me like they were just using it as a non-human equivalent for 'person', like "why would anyone fall for a person who committed hate crimes against them?" which is a valid question. it never even occurred to me that they could have meant it in the sense of calling her an inferior creature.

that said... you ARE 100% right and you should say it, lmao.

I very nearly got into this exact argument once, bc i saw some comments from a guy scoffing at the idea of arti showing mercy to baby scavs. because by his logic, 'she is just an animal, so she isn't bound by human morality. in the wild, animals kill any young that don't belong to them without hesitation'. and it just pissed me off so much, because not only was it such an edgy "mercy is for the WEAK!" alpha-male bullshit take, it was also just factually wrong. many animals can and do adopt the young of other animals, even other species, especially when they've just lost their own. and like you said, they can grieve, but then they move on. they keep surviving, and making more babies. they don't dwell on injustice, or let rage consume them to the point that it becomes a hindrance to their own survival. they don't go on single-minded revenge quests. they dont try to justify their own violence by demonizing entire species, and they dont end up plagued by guilt in their sleep. those are very, very human things.

and yeah, i see a lot of people theorize that it's the mark of communication that grants the slugcats higher intelligence, but I don't really buy that either. i think the mark just lets them understand the iterator's language. they must've already had the capacity to understand it, or else it wouldn't work at all. it'd be like trying to install windows on a calculator. also, even without the mark, slugcats are obviously shown to communicate with each other. they have their own culture, they tell stories and make art, and they're apparently able to understand karma and the nature of the cycle at least enough to be able to ascend. so like... any creature thats capable of spiritual enlightenment must at least be sapient, right??

it seems like in the absence of the ancients, both slugcats and scavs are beginning to move in to their niche in the ecosystem

[lady-october]

Pairing : Oli Sykes x Female Assistant Genre : Romance, Smut (18+ Only) Previous Chapters : Available on Ao3 & Tumblr

Story Content : Smut, Drama, Choking, Power dynamics, Romance, Rough sex, Sadism/Masochism, Dom/Sub, Mentions of addiction & self harm, Degradation, Praise kink, Exhibitionism, Orgasm denial, Breath play, Dirty talk.

Summary :

“Don’t you see what a dangerous game you’re playing? Why did you have to look so fucking delicious tonight, I couldn’t stop undressing you in my mind, thinking of all the twisted things I want to do to you.” She had only worked on the touring team for three weeks, but her mind had been hijacked by dirty thoughts of a man she barely even talked to. Sure, he was very attractive, but were there other reasons she was so uncontrollably drawn to him? This is a filthy story of pain, self discovery, and love.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Chapter 27: You monsters are people

Chapter title is lyrics from “Obey” 

This chapter is from Oli’s perspective. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I can’t believe she stayed. 

As soon as the words had left my mouth, I’d regretted it. But being inside her, being surrounded by her scent, her legs wrapped around me, her large blue eyes set in that flushed, soft face, how was I supposed to keep the words to myself? 

How was I expected to not express my love for such a perfect sight? 

I’d been working overtime for days to keep from telling her I love her, knowing it was too soon, especially for someone like Alice.  

And then I’d gone and told her twice within the span of a couple of hours. 

I let my hands rake over my face as I shook my head under the shower head, the warm water cascading around my vision, turning the tiles wavy. 

I’m so fed up with myself. 

Regardless of my self-indulgent recklessness last night, she’d still stayed, faced her demons, and let me know she’s trying. 

And now it was my turn to return the favour. 

But how was I supposed to deal with my current problems, when dead and buried demons were suddenly crawling out of their overgrown graves, reminding me that maybe they hadn’t been properly dealt with in the first place? 

I thought I’d shed the shackles Fay had put around my ankles at this point, but in so many ways I’m still the same person I was a year ago when I read her texts. I still crave the validation, the attention she offers me so readily. So greedily. 

I’m not completely daft though, I know she’s just manipulating me, just like she’s always manipulated me. Controlling me in ways I feel powerless against. The difference is that I didn’t use to care. In fact, I welcomed it, because I wanted to spend every moment with her regardless of her intentions.  

It only became a problem when we were no longer on the same page. 

I also knew why she was the way she was, which made it even harder to judge her for it. 

You see, I may have always been drawn to troubled women, but Fay’s the most troubled of them all. 

By a long shot. 

She may not be suicidal in the typical sense, but she lives her life like there’s no tomorrow, continuously reckless in ways that usually guarantees becoming worm food prematurely. 

You’d think most of her wild traits could be chalked up to growing up with her addict mum, who were either not home for days on end, or blacked out on the sofa when she was. Or maybe even by the fact that she croaked from an overdose when Fay was barely a teen. 

But personally, I think most of it could be explained by being left in the care of her extremely abusive stepfather once her mum was out of the picture. 

About two years ago when it was still Mat and Fay, we’d all gone to stay in Birmingham to hunker down and spend a full week focused on writing and recording a new EP.  

This also happens to be the week me and Fay fell in love.  

Every night was sleepless, which wasn’t uncommon for me, but it turned out Fay also had her slumber related problems. This meant we’d spend hours every night together, oversharing, getting to know each other on an inappropriately personal level considering her relationship status with my best mate. 

I wasn’t used to opening up to people, but the very first night Fay had told me about her childhood, and it all just spiralled from there. Naturally – and because I’m a fucking mess – I was immediately enthralled by this seemingly mythical being, so fun, yet terrifyingly disturbed. 

What was so shocking about her was how casually she talked about her life, like it was the most normal thing in the world.  

Which, to be fair, to her it was.  

My earliest taste of this came on the second night of the trip.  We’d been talking about our mutual love for animals, when she interjected with a long list of stray pets she’d rescued off the streets and hid from her stepdad.  

Only to follow it up with how she kept coming home to them having their necks broken once he’d found them.  

I’d been horrified, wondering how that would’ve affected her – how it still must affect her, when without skipping a beat, she’d move on with the conversation, going on a passionate tangent about climate change out of nowhere. 

It was bizarre, it was refreshing – it was alarming and worrisome. But in some weird way it was also strangely comforting, knowing that even though she was deeply traumatised, and clearly unhealed, she still had a zest for life.  

Albeit maybe a bit too much zest.  

The last night of the trip was the most memorable to me. 

She’d been laying on the balcony table for about an hour, staring up into the night sky as it slowly shifted and changed to brighter colours. I’d been distracted by the silk robe she’d worn, and how her long, bright red hair was hanging over the edge of the table, halfway to the concrete floor. She was reminiscing about a hike she’d gone on with a group of friends, when she broke out into the most delightful laughter, smiling from ear to ear before rolling over to finally face me. It was like I was staring into the eyes of a deity, some ancient goddess, when she reached out to trace one of the skull-motifs inked into the skin of my arm. 

“I have something so similar to this one,” She’d started, her fingers still playing on my skin, the innocent touch feeling so charged, so forbidden in the deep hours of the night, it threatened goosebumps to form as I fought off the urge to stare straight down her cleavage, “I’d show you, but I don’t think Mat would be too happy about it.” 

While she wasn’t as covered in tattoos as me, she wasn’t too far off. And from her implication that the placement of the art piece in question was somewhere I shouldn’t be looking, I could immediately imagine it on her inner thigh, considering I may have caught a glimpse of the bottom of it earlier tonight. 

Which in turn had me imagine more things that caused blood to flow in places they shouldn’t be as I inevitably allowed my eyes to fall to her chest, so poorly covered by her robe. 

But through the fog of dirty thoughts and fought off impulses, I realised she was trying to seduce me, which forced me to take a step back and analyse what’s been going on the past week.  

And that maybe we’d both been trying to seduce each other. 

“Think it’s time to sleep.” I muttered before getting to my feet, knowing I was in deep, deep shit. 

“Stay,” she breathed, taking hold of the arm she’d been tracing, “It’s our last night here, and you haven’t told me about your addiction yet.” 

I was confused, as I’d already shared how it all started, and about my time in rehab. As far as I was aware, I’d told her everything there was to know about my addiction. 

“What are you on about, of course I have.” I countered, thrown off once again by the continuous sudden change of topics and moods that Fay seemed to come pre-programmed with.  

She let go of my arm, sitting up, and allowed her legs to dangle over the edge of the table before she spoke, “You’ve told me nothing I can’t read online,” She scanned my face with her dark eyes, such a deep brown they were pitch black in most lights, “What’s so terrible about you that you don’t want to be yourself?” 

I wanted to tell her I wasn’t there mentally anymore, that I was better now – happy and recovered.  

But I knew I’d be lying.  

Addiction is like weeds; you can clear them as thoroughly as you want, but if you don’t tend to them regularly, your whole garden will be overgrown before you know it. 

And I was a master of pretending everything was fucking dandy when they weren’t. 

“You sure you want to talk about that?” I asked, thinking of her mother’s history with drugs. 

She let out a laugh I’d heard her do several times before – mostly when discussing a sensitive subject. It was slightly manic, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “Why, because my deadbeat mom overdosed? Oh please. Just tell me, Oliver.” 

I hated it when she called me by my full name, and she knew I hated it from the moment we were introduced. 

Yet she didn’t stop until months into our relationship, claiming that Oli was a stupid British nickname, and since she’s American she was very adamant about rejecting the shortened version of my given name. 

Despite my better judgement, I sat back down, not wanting our week to end on a bad note. 

Even though I knew we’d have to stop hanging out alone after tonight, no matter how sad that thought made me. 

Especially because of how sad that thought made me. 

“It’s not that I think I’m terrible, necessarily. But it’s like my emotions are always dialled up to max, and there’s no shutting them off.” 

She grimaced at my response, “I feel a lot too, but that’s a great thing, and I would never want to turn them off. They’re what makes me feel alive; I cry, I scream, I laugh, I love, I fuck – and I feel better for it.” 

She forgot to mention that she plays Russian roulette with her life every so often by being an adrenaline junkie in the worst of ways. 

And no, I hadn’t overlooked how she put emphasis on the word fuck. Or the way it had me imagine her dark eyes looking up at me as her full lips closed around my shaft. 

“I wish it was that simple for me, love.” I responded under my breath. 

“Why can’t it be that simple?” 

“Because I’m a bomb.” 

There was a short pause as she considered my words, “Explain.” 

I got more comfortable in my seat again, preparing to unpack such a deep part of myself, unsure whether it was the early morning hours that made me comfortable enough to do so, or whether there was just something special about Fay. 

I took a deep breath, “If I let my feelings run amuck, I’d probably burst wide open. I’d get so fucking furious with the state of the world, or with how little anyone seems to give a shit, that I couldn’t think straight. On the other side of that, if I let myself love to my full potential,” I shook my head, “That’s a terrifying thought to be honest with you, cause I don’t know how far I’d take that. Pretty sure I’d completely lose myself, and drive anyone on the receiving end of it fucking mad in the process.” 

As I spoke Fay’s eyes burrowed into me, lighting up with the passion of a thousand suns.  

I’d later found out that it had been those words that made her fall in love with me, that she’d been searching high and low for a man that loved with as much intensity as she does, and after that night she was determined to become mine. 

I had to look away from her deep stare in order to finish making my point, “But when I get high, my feelings shut off, and for a while I’m free of all that. I get to just exist, without being exhausted from keeping myself restrained all the time.” 

“You’re talking about yourself like you’re some kind of monster that needs to be put down.” 

“Not put down, but I don’t think I should be let off my leash.” 

“Unless you’re talking about some kind of kinky play, I disagree.” 

I laughed. 

“You should try it. Next time you want to get high cause you hate your feelings so much, just let them do their thing.” She leaned forward, giving me a better view of her cleavage as her demeanour shifted; it was a very subtle shift, but it was more than enough to highlight the already undeniable sexual tension between us, “And whatever urges you get, give in to them. It might not be as bad as you think.” 

In a desperate attempt to keep my mind out of the gutter, and to prevent myself from pulling her into my lap right this moment, I conjured up images of my parents. 

And thankfully, it worked quickly, and well enough to keep myself in check. 

“Don’t think that’s a good idea, love.” My voice had dropped several octaves, giving away that I’d been considering doing what she was very clearly suggesting. 

A seductive smile bloomed on her lips, “Why?” 

“Because I have enough regrets as it is. I’ve no plans to add to my list of things that keep me up at night.” 

The look she gave me was that of a child who had their favourite toy taken away from them. 

As I got out of the chair to head to bed – alone – I couldn’t help but wonder what had Fay as sleepless as myself.  

Or how much regret she was repressing from living her life the way she did. 

But one thing I knew for sure was that she’d been hurt – badly. And hurt people who haven’t dealt with their pain, very easily hurt others. 

While I didn’t give in to my urges that night, once me and Fay did become a couple, I would quickly discover the full range of ways she’d inflict pain on me. 

It started with harmless manipulations to get her way in minor arguments, which was easy enough to overlook, especially when you’re falling head over heels for someone. 

Which I definitely was. 

Considering how hard and fast I was falling, it didn’t take much convincing for me to do as she’d suggested that night on the balcony. So, I gave in, submitting to my feelings in a way I hadn’t quite done before when it comes to love. 

It was so liberating, so wonderful, to just let myself worship her; to tell her I love her a million times a day without judgement, to have it so readily reciprocated, and allow myself to request as much of her time and attention as I craved. 

I was so convinced that she was the best thing that had ever happened to me, that of course I didn’t bat an eye when I noticed the small white lies. Surely she only lied to protect me, because she loves me so much. 

But the small lies grew bigger, the innocent manipulations turned sinister, and about 10 months into the relationship she’d almost always choose revenge over peace whenever we’d argue. She’d do things like ramp up her thrill-seeking behaviour to get me worried for her safety, or intentionally make me jealous – which, I am not proud of having done to Alice. 

But there’s a reason they call it the cycle of abuse. 

And now I’m the hurt person who apparently hasn’t dealt with their pain, hurting others in the process. 

Turning off the shower I wrapped a towel around myself before stepping in front of the fogged-up mirror over the hotel sink, giving it a wipe to take a good, hard look at myself. 

The eyes looking back at me were bloodshot, accompanied by dark circles and a scowl.  

While I’d fallen asleep fairly quickly last night, I’d been jarred awake by the usual nightmares so early it was still dark out, and I’d spent the hours since pondering what to do next. 

And while there were several pressing matters, all roads seemed to lead back to Alice. 

Do I tell her the truth about everything, or do I share the watered-down version I’d planned to relay last night before we got interrupted? 

I exhaled a shaky breath as the man in the mirror’s features turned increasingly panicked. 

Alice wasn’t wrong; you really are a fucking coward. 

Suddenly a loud bang could be heard from outside the bathroom, and I quickly realised it was the sound of the hotel room door slamming shut. 

Almost as if someone had stormed out of here. 

I launched for the bathroom door, ripping it open only to be met with an empty room. 

In the middle of the floor, I could see my phone lying face down, moved from its original position on the bedside table. 

Fuck. 

Dread washed over me, knowing what Alice must have seen on my phone to make her dash out of here in such a rush – the same thing I’d seen every time I’d looked at it since I’d accidentally messaged Fay. 

I wasted no time, collecting my phone and dashed towards Alice’s room, only for the shortest of moments registering that I’m soaking, and just clad in a towel around my waist. 

“Alice!” I yelled after several vigorous knocks on the door, “Let me in, it’s not what you think!” 

I threw a quick glance at my screen to see what Alice might have read. 

“Fay: I can’t wait to see you.” 

“Shit.” I breathed through clenched teeth. 

“Alice!” I yelled louder as more panic set in, knocking the door so hard it rattled. 

Realising she might’ve not even gone to her room, I pressed my ear to the solid wood to listen for any sounds inside, only to almost fall face first into the room when the door suddenly flew open. But instead of falling I was shoved by a furious Liam, who had sent me stumbling backwards, nearly hitting the wall on the opposite side of the hotel corridor from the force he’d used. 

He was clearly a fair bit stronger than he looks. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you did to that poor woman, but there’s not a chance I’m letting you see her.” 

“She thinks I’m chattin’ up another bird – I’m not!” I raised my voice, hoping Alice would hear as Liam had left the door ever so slightly ajar behind him. 

“Whatever.” He muttered, rolling his eyes, clearly not giving a rat’s arse about the specifics of the drama he’d been forced to take part in, before giving me a once over, “I need to go back in there. Get dressed, there’s kids staying here for fuck’s sake.” 

The door shut, and locked, with both Liam and Alice behind it. 

And I’d never felt so helpless. 

I took another step back and let myself lean against the wall I’d nearly slammed into moments ago, sliding down it as I tried to keep my heart from breaking entirely. 

My eyes were so full of tears that it took me a second to realise there was a pair of shoes in my peripheral vision. I looked up to see Mat standing next to me, pity painted all over his face.  

I hadn’t heard any other doors open or shut, which meant he must have been in the corridor for the entire interaction. 

“Would you like a hand?” He asked, sounding sombre. 

I took his stretched-out hand and pulled myself up on unsteady feet, “Did you catch all that?” 

“Yeah. Wanna talk?” 

I wiped the tears away while attempting to keep the towel around my waist from falling to the floor.  

I was torn, because I knew Mat had asked me with the intention of being there for me. 

But it wasn’t just Alice I needed to have a serious discussion with. And I doubted he would want to console me after I come clean to him about everything. 

“Yeah.” I responded after I’d made my decision. 

We walked to my room where we once again took a seat on the floor, leaning against the bed. Only this time it was the bed me and Alice had just spent the night in, made abundantly obvious by her pile of clothes on the floor, next to the bag which she’d left during her swift escape. 

I watched as droplets fell from my soaking hair and hit the carpet as we sat in silence for a while, probably to let me collect myself. The cheery, sun-lit room a stark contrast from my dark and hopeless emotions, which seemed so impossible to fight. 

But I had to start somewhere. 

“I almost got high last night.” I said, breaking the silence. 

I threw a quick glance at Mat; he looked hurt. 

I couldn’t blame him. 

“I almost got high when we were in London too, sent an old dealer a message and everything.”  

The problem with saying things out loud is that they immediately become all too real.  

But since I was walking a dangerously fine line considering I didn’t know if things would work out between me and Alice, I needed it to become real. 

And I needed it to become real right now. 

I looked over at my trousers laying on top of my luggage. 

“I got some,” I started, whispered, the words feeling like acid pushing up my throat, knowing that as soon as I’d let them leave my lips, I wouldn’t have the option of going numb anymore. I inclined my head towards my belongings, “Last night at the club. It’s in my pocket.” 

I’d been staring at the seemingly harmless article of clothing all morning before going for a shower, being so incredibly tempted by it, only able to talk myself out of it because she stayed. 

Which I realise is extremely problematic. 

Mat sighed deeply, leaning forward to rake his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry man. I know we said I’d come to you if I ever got the urge to use again.” 

He looked so disappointed, and I hadn’t even gotten to the worst part yet. 

“I had some suspicions you weren’t doing great, but I had no clue you were on this thin ice. I just thought I’d give you a chance to come talk to me when you were ready.” He released a nervous laugh, “Actually I thought that maybe you were doing better the past week or so. You’ve been a bit off, sure, but you’ve also seemed quite happy a lot of the time.” 

I hadn’t expected such a peaceful response after my admission. In fact, I’d suspected him to tear me a new one. 

But then again, I wasn’t done talking yet. 

“Mat, I’m a lying piece of shit, and I have no excuses.” 

“I’m just happy you’re talking to me before you did something, this way—” 

“I’ve been hooking up with Alice since London.” I interrupted, the disbelief on his features adding to my ever-growing mountain of self-hatred, but I knew I needed to continue speaking, to rip the band aid off once and for all. My mouth hung open for a beat, suspended, as I gathered the courage to tell him how I feel, “I’m in love with her.” 

Mats’ features grew cold as he processed what I was saying, readjusting his position on the floor. 

“Why’d you let me look like a twat, thinking I had a shot with her?” He asked, an anger lacing his words. 

I watched more drops fall from my hair as I hung my head low, “I wish I could say it’s cause she wanted to keep it a secret, and sure that’s how it started, but she understood why I needed to be honest with you lot, considering our past.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to face him again, “The long and short of it is that I wanted to see if I could trust her – see if she’d run off to you instead.” 

He watched me under furrowed brows, “So, you were using me.” 

“Yeah.” I confirmed, feeling like a useless wet fucking rat. 

Mat let out a long exhale as he leaned back into the mattress behind us, “You remember that week in Birmingham, when we were recording about two years ago?” 

I tensed, remembering it as the week I wanted to steal his girlfriend, “Of course.” 

He sucked on his teeth, contemplating, “I didn’t sleep much that week. I would sit with the window cracked and listen to you and Fay talk for hours.” I was surprised, not just by what he was saying, but by how guilty he looked as he told me, “The whole week was hell, but I needed to know if I could count on her. Turns out I couldn’t.” 

Apparently, it wasn’t just me who was riddled with trust issues after all our overlapping romances. 

“How come you never told me?” 

Mat shrugged, “I don’t know, bit embarrassing, I guess.” There was another short pause as more guilt made an appearance on him, “Also, I didn’t just want to see if I could count on Fay, but you as well.” 

I could see why, especially with how much lying I’d done over the years. 

“Well, how did I do?” I asked awkwardly. 

“Better than me.” He said with a bitter smile, clearly referring to the fact that he’d slept with Fay when I was technically still with her. 

Appearing as if he remembered something, his features grew worried, “I never slept with Alice, but you should know there was stuff going on.” 

I sighed deeply, “I know.” 

The look he gave me was filled with confusion, “And you’re alright with that?” 

All I could do was shrug, “We’re not a couple. And at this rate I’m not sure we’ll ever be.” I said, knowing there was a real chance I’d scared her off for good this time. 

He opened his mouth, probably to say something hopeful and kind that would only serve to make me feel worse, so I hurried to speak before he got a chance to. 

“There’s one more thing.” I could see him bracing himself mentally for whatever I was about to say, but I knew he’d never expect this to come out of my mouth, “I’ve been talking to Fay.” 

“Fucking hell, Oli.” He looked utterly disgusted with me. 

Which reflected my own feelings about myself perfectly. 

“She’ll be at our next show.” I continued. 

Mat got to his feet. At first, I thought he was about to leave, but instead he just began angrily pacing back and forth in front of me. 

I felt like a kid who was about to get a scolding from their parents. 

He stopped and looked down at my pathetic self on the floor, “Did you invite her?” 

I shook my head, causing more droplets to fall all around me, “No, she was already going. She’s been going to a lot of our shows the past year.” 

His eyes began darting all over the room, his mind obviously racing with thoughts – probably the same thoughts I had when I found out. After a handful of seconds, I could see the anger inside him deflate before he returned his attention to me, “Do you still miss her?” 

I shifted awkwardly, “I’m not sure.” I said honestly, shame filling me at my admission, “Thing is, the thought of seeing her again makes my skin crawl, but there’s just so much unresolved there. I want answers.” 

The pity reappeared in his eyes before he sat back down next to me, “You think she’d actually give you answers?”  

The question could have been perceived as mocking, but I could tell it was asked with sincerity.  

“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m nowhere near as healed as I thought I was.” And it was messing up my life in ways I couldn’t stand anymore. 

It also had me wondering how many unhealed wounds she’d left Mat with. 

“Do you want to meet her?” I asked quietly. 

He let his head fall back onto the mattress, looking almost as defeated as I felt, “I don’t know. She has a way of fucking with your head. I should hate her guts for everything she’s done to us, yet…” 

“You feel bad for her.” 

He huffed out a laugh, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah, me too.” I muttered. 

Mat studied my face for a moment before getting to his feet again, throwing a look towards my pile of clothes on my luggage, then back at me. 

I knew what he was silently asking, so I just nodded. 

He took the short steps over to my trousers, picking the pockets clean and headed towards the bathroom. 

When I heard the toilet flush, I was both relieved and terrified in equal measures. 

“I really need to go check on Lee.” He announced as soon as he came back out, almost as if pretending what he just did for me never happened, “Only the Matt’s of the group have it together lately.” 

Ah, never mind. 

“Why we needed two.” I said with a tired smile. 

He smiled back at me, “I’ll be back in just a couple of minutes, yeah?” 

My tired smile blossomed, feeling incredibly grateful for his continued support, especially when I was pulling so much stupid shit. 

“Mat,” I said right as he was about to leave, “I’m sorry.” 

“I know.” He responded casually before latching the door shut. 

I looked towards the dress I’d peeled off Alice’s exhausted body to help her get ready for bed last night, and I felt as if I was at a crossroads; either I fall apart, wallow in self-pity and let the melancholy take root. 

Or I continue clawing out of the grave I’d dug for myself, and fight. 

Springing into action, I started rummaging through Alice’s bag, to see if she’d left her phone behind or not. 

After having made an absolute mess of the room in record time, I deduced she’d taken it with her, so I sat down on the bed and began taking screenshots. I wasn’t sure if Alice was anything like myself when it came to these sorts of things, but personally I’d require proof. 

Mat came back as I was in the middle of cataloguing my conversation with Fay the past two days, hoping that the context would shine a better light on the situation, destroying any conclusions Alice had drawn from the individual damaging messages that had been present on my lockscreen. 

“Just a minute, mate.” I mumbled to Mat, who collapsed into the chair next to the bed. 

But I must have taken more than a minute, as I suddenly heard the TV turn on, pulling my attention away from the message I was typing up for Alice. 

I looked up at Mat through my now slightly dryer hair, “Sorry, I got a bit caught up.” 

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?” He asked with an amused smile. 

“I can’t let Alice think I’m trying to get back with Fay, so I’m sending over the whole chat… Along with a message.” 

He stared at me for a beat, “Let me see before you send it.” 

It might seem like an odd request to some, but me and Mat had often helped each other out when it came to delicate communication. It started when we were teens trying to convince our parents we weren’t out partying every night, but it quickly evolved into helping each chat up girls on MSN.  

When we were kids it pretty much only served to get our way, no matter what. But once we got older, we stopped lying, turning the intention behind putting our heads together significantly less self-serving.  

As an example, I helped him write the eulogy for a childhood friend that passed away some years ago. 

“Alright.” I responded without giving it a second thought. 

Once I was done, I handed the phone over to Mat. From the amount of time he took, he was clearly also reading over my chat with Fay. 

I grew increasingly anxious the longer he took, knowing that he was close to reading the things I’d told Fay; how I’d finally responded to her relentless stream of messages, showcasing how pathetic I am.  

Highlighting that she clearly still had some type of hold on me. 

“She seems different.” He finally said. 

“Yeah.” I agreed. 

“Like she’s happier. But who knows if that’s just for show or not.” Mat handed the phone back to me, “How come you haven’t told her about Alice?” 

While the messages I’d sent to Fay were cold, short, and could be counted on one hand – versus the vast amount she’d sent me – I had given her a life update, intentionally not mentioning Alice while doing so. 

“I almost did, but I’m not sure she’d still want to meet up if she knew I’d fallen for someone else.” 

Fay matched me in possessiveness, and considering she was still obsessed with me, I knew she’d take it poorly. 

He took a moment to consider my reasons, “Besides that bit potentially looking a bit sus, I think you’re ready to send that.” 

“You think it’s enough?” 

He shrugged, “Hopefully. Depends on Alice really. Like you said, you two aren’t a couple. But I think that’s the best you’re gonna get – it’s a good message you’ve written.” 

I looked at the message, explaining how I’d accidentally messaged Fay, and my reasons for responding at all, and wondered if it contained some hidden meaning – some hidden trigger that would send her into another spiral, considering I was essentially speaking to Alice like she was already my girlfriend. 

‘Are you breaking up with me?’ 

Her panicked words from last night echoed in my head, a most bewildering concoction of emotions lingering from them.  

Copying everything into Alice’s message box, I pressed send, and fell backwards onto the bed. 

“Don’t get lazy now, you’ve got to hold yourself to your word.” Mat said. 

In the message I’d let Alice know I’d be waiting by her door until she was ready to talk to me. 

My tired eyes met Mat’s, and I told him something I don’t tell him nearly enough, “I don’t know what I’d do without you to be honest.” 

“There are other drummers. None as good as me of course, but I’m sure you’d make do.” He joked, keeping the mood light as always. 

I just shook my head, “You know what I mean, man. I really don’t deserve this type of treatment from you. I’ve been a fucking bellend at every turn, and you’re over here giving me advice about a bird I know you also feel some type of way about. I just want to keep my shit together long enough to feel like a decent friend. Just for once.” 

Mat braced his arms on his knees as he leaned forward, giving him an air of seriousness, “You’ve been a shit friend many times,” he started, pinning me with his eyes, “truly fucking awful actually…” he muttered, and I felt my heart drop for a moment before he continued, “But you’re not like that anymore, and you haven’t been for a long time. You’ve shown me time and time again that you can be trusted – that you care, and that you are trying bloody hard to better yourself; and that’s all that matters to me. You’ve been there for me through some truly horrible times as well, so you’ve got to stop being so hard on yourself Oli. You don’t give yourself nearly as much credit as you should.” 

Silence fell for a beat as I tried to keep the tears out of my eyes. 

“The Oli I knew from five years ago wouldn’t have come clean about any of the things you told me today.” He added, “I would’ve had to pry that out of him, kicking and screaming.” 

I knew he was right, and while I knew I had changed, it just wasn’t good enough. 

“I want to do better than this.” I whispered. 

He slapped his knees and got to his feet, indicating that it was time to get up and deliver on my promises, “And you will – you’ve got an excellent track record for improvement.” 

Once I’d gotten dressed, I grabbed a drink from the mini fridge and sat down next to Alice’s door. 

“Hiya.” I awkwardly said under my breath to the second couple walking past me the last couple of minutes, shuffling my legs out of the pathway to not be more of a nuisance than I had to be.  

Lunch time was coming up so most of the guests were about to head to the restaurant located on the first floor, causing some hope to sprout, that maybe she’d want to head down as well. 

Every so often I’d hear the faint sound of talking coming from behind the wooden door, and butterflies would come to life in my chest whenever those inaudible words were spoken by her soft, delicate voice. 

As I listened to her, my mind wandered back to when my obsession with Alice had developed to the point of no return, about a week before I grabbed her and fucked her on that table in London. 

She’d been using the laundry facilities at a house we were renting down south for a three day stay between gigs – something we did at times as it was often more comfortable than staying at hotels. When she’d suddenly stormed out of the loud utility room, running into the living room where I was currently reading.  

For a moment I’d thought the place was on fire from the way she’d legged it, in combination with the sheer panic all over her flushed face, causing me to bolt upright from my previously sprawled position. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked over the washing machine which was clearly in the centrifuge part of the cycle. 

But Alice just fell to the floor in front of the coffee table between us and began searching through the pockets of a jacket that was bunched up there, too preoccupied with whatever she was searching for to provide me with an answer. I thought that maybe she was having some sort of medical emergency, potentially looking for an inhaler or an EpiPen, but then I saw smoke escaping the utility room door frame, lapping onto the ceiling, which caused me to immediately spring into action. 

Heat smacked me in the face once I stepped into the room, only to realise it wasn’t smoke I’d seen, but steam. The place was like a sauna, and after taking one look at the pile of folded clothes next to the iron, I quickly deducted why. 

Realising that whatever crisis was occurring didn’t have anything to do with the utility room, I turned around, only to immediately be face to face with Alice. 

The panic was gone from her features, instead she appeared embarrassed, and so apologetic you’d think she’d kicked a puppy. While holding her phone, she opened her mouth to explain, and before she even got a word out, I let myself relax, understanding that there was in fact no danger. 

When words began leaving her lips, I was about to interrupt her, to let her know I couldn’t hear a thing she was saying over the loud machinery. Only the faintest, most delicate tone of voice could be heard – which is exactly what I could hear now, listening to her in the hotel corridor.  

But I never got to speak up, as I got incredibly distracted. 

A drop of sweat running down the side of her neck had caught my attention, so clearly visible due to her hair being haphazardly put in a bun. My eyes followed it as it slowly snaked along her skin, enthralled, hungry, only to realise that her whole body seemed to be glistening with sweat, just covered by a flimsy crop top and shorts. 

I felt as if I was going mad.  

Like I’d been wandering in the desert for days and she was a lake, suddenly appearing right under my nose. 

Only it had been over a year since I’d fucked anything but my own hand. 

She hadn’t been talking for more than ten seconds when she gave me a questioning look. Having no way of knowing what she’d asked me, I just nodded in response, hoping it would be appropriate.  

Hoping my erection hadn’t become visible yet. 

It seemed to have worked, as she gave me a shy smile before walking off to the kitchen, shutting the door behind her. I sighed in relief, heading for the bathroom as I had nothing better to do than to use the fresh mental images of her to release some tension. 

But the laundry cycle ended, and the house fell quiet enough for me to hear that she was on the phone. 

I stopped, looking towards the kitchen door, then back to the bathroom, contemplating. 

But curiosity got the better of me, and I found myself taking gentle steps in Alice’s direction, wanting to hear what she was saying. 

Unlike the thick wooden door of the hotel room next to me, the kitchen door was so thin it might as well not have been there at all. And once I got close enough, I could make out her words if I focused hard enough. 

“I can’t believe I just remembered, I feel horrible about it, mum.” 

“You called her, you got her a gift, and we always put your name in the card we give her. I’m certain she’s not expecting a card from you as well.” Her mum had responded, which I’d heard clearer than I’d heard Alice – and the call wasn’t even over speaker phone. 

“But I always give her and all her sisters their own cards, I wouldn’t want her to feel left out. I know it’s been a couple of weeks since her birthday, but should I just send one now?” 

The longer I listened, the more puzzled I grew. 

Could all that panic really have been over a bloody birthday card? 

I was so extremely bewildered by the fact that this creature felt so much guilt over something so extremely trivial – especially since I was used to someone regularly treating me like a doormat and expressing no guilt at all over it. 

Or at least not until they feared losing me – until it affected them. 

Fay was wrong about a lot of things, and until that moment I’d thought she’d been entirely wrong about letting myself relax when it comes to how I experience love. 

But was it possible that I’d simply let myself fall for the wrong person? Given my heart to someone who wouldn’t handle it like the fragile thing it is; so quick to bleed. 

And then the idea of giving into my emotions with someone like Alice consumed me. 

I was terrified, attempting to reject the longing inside me. But it was a pointless battle, the hope that I’d found someone worth handing my aching, scarred heart to was simply too strong. 

Of course, falling for Alice had come with its own set of problems. 

Problems I needed to resolve. 

The hotel room door suddenly opened, jarring me out of my thoughts. 

I shot to my feet, knocking over the empty energy drinks next to me with a clatter. 

Hours had passed, and I’d kept going back to my room for more caffeine as staying awake wasn’t the easiest at this point considering how little I’d slept. 

Disappointment washed over me as I was staring into Liam’s fed-up eyes. 

“She wants to talk to you now.” He proclaimed before pushing past me to head towards the elevator. 

The door slowly swung open, and I finally got to see her. 

Her eyes were slightly puffy, and she was holding her arms defensively. 

She was as beautiful as ever. 

“Hi.” I breathed, leaning against the door frame, feeling disproportionally happy to see her considering I didn’t know if it was just to tell me to fuck off for good. 

She rubbed her arms, her messy blonde locks falling over her shoulder as she did so, “So, are you gonna meet up with her?” 

She sounded so shy, so scared. 

“I think so, yeah.”  

There was a disappointment that settled on her, reflected more in her posture than on her face, which still held a sense of fear. 

I looked around us, wanting to elaborate, wanting to talk to her privately, only to see someone coming from the end of the corridor, “Can I come in?” 

She nodded and moved to the side. 

Allowing me the privilege of her company, and hopefully to set things right. 

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[least-carpet]

Jin Ling and Hensheng: Weapons and Power in MDZS

Alright, I saw a post float by about Jin Ling inheriting and using Hensheng, and I have thoughts about it. Not to be a hater—like if you love this thought, get down with your bad self and have fun, I wish you every enjoyment—but I disagree strongly that Jin Ling would ever use Hensheng, or even that Jin Guangyao would want him to.

Thoughts about Hensheng's name

All of the weapons in MDZS have highly symbolic names and Hensheng is no different. "Hensheng" apparently means "hatred or resentment for life" which seems like kind of a wild name to give your sword, although, what do I know, it's not like I'm a sword-naming expert. In all other aspects, Hensheng is unusual, since it's a soft sword which is meant to be worn concealed. It's a perfect tool for Jin Guangyao's time undercover, and he uses it to assassinate Wen Ruohan and end the Sunshot Campaign. However, I assume it's a dishonourable sword to carry, since it's not worn openly, although I have to admit that I don't know much about this genre or its conventions. As evidence, I want to point out that we don't see any other characters carry this type of sword. It simultaneously makes him a hero, beginning his ascent in the Jin Sect, and marks him as an outsider.

Jin Ling, on the other hand, is associated with father's (legitimate) power both through his weapons and his martial skills, i.e. his inherited sword and his archery. I think this is the ONLY instance we see of a named sword being inherited so this association is unusual and very important. (The sword also has a Big Symbolic Name, Suihua, "the passage of time." Why do you need subtlety when you can have BADASS SWORDS instead.)

While Jin Ling is in a delicate political position at the end of MDZS, I still don't think he would take up Hensheng, and to explain why, I think we should look at his refusal to take up Zidian in the second siege of the Burial Mounds.

Zidian as a symbol

The Watsonian explanation for this refusal is that he associates Zidian's transfer with the owner's death and he absolutely refuses to consider the idea that Jiang Cheng might die. But from a Doylist perspective, Zidian is a symbol of power under duress or constraint, in a similar way that Hensheng is a symbol of socially unacceptable power.

Zidian is associated with Madame Yu (constrained by gender and social position, access to power based on skill and a reputation for ferocity) and later Jiang Cheng (constrained by the decimation of his sect and his age, access to power based on skill and a reputation for ferocity). It's also associated with trauma linked to both the duress and the power—trauma associated with "what must be done to survive." Like it's legendary for sure, but at what cost, you know? Not even getting into it taking the form of a whip.

Jin Ling looks at it under immediate threat to life and limb and goes, No, thanks! I will do brave things without it! (And gives Jiang Cheng, like, five simultaneous heart attacks.) Even under duress, Jin Ling is still in a better position than Jiang Cheng was when he inherited Zidian, because he still has his uncle's support and knows it. He is secure enough in Jiang Cheng's love and protection that he doesn't need to take Zidian from him.

Jin Ling and his many inheritances

With that in mind, I can't see Jin Ling taking up Hensheng either. I also see it as thematically incoherent for him to use a weapon called "hatred for life," when his arc is about struggling with past events to work towards forgiveness.

He's not in the same situation as Jin Guangyao. He grew up in peacetime, as the heir to a wealthy sect, and his guardians loved him and supported him and were able to protect him. He just doesn't need to be as well-armed—emotionally or literally—as Jin Guangyao or Jiang Cheng.

(It also occurs to me that both Zidian and Hensheng are barriers to physical closeness. Hensheng is worn concealed in the wearer's clothes and Zidian is worn as jewelry—trauma functions as a barrier to closeness and intimacy. You can ALWAYS zap or stab a motherfucker if they get too close to you, which is good in unsafe situations and bad, emotionally, if you live like that forever. It's important that Jin Ling doesn't have to do that!)

Anyway this is why I hate this concept for thematic reasons, especially when Jin Guangyao did explicitly arm and protect Jin Ling—with Fairy, who is capable of discernment, who is a source of love and support, and not with a "hatred for life."

Although Jin Guangyao and Jiang Cheng's combined parental efforts were, uh, a little idiosyncratic, it seems like they were both trying to be mindful of what they passed on to their shared nephew. Jin Ling is a spoiled brat but also a very good and forgiving and brave little guy! He is so much more secure than either of them were basically ever in their lives! He doesn't need to resort to resentment or to Hensheng. (Thematically. For practical, in-text purposes, he doesn't need them because Jiang Cheng is still around and will kill anyone who touches a hair on his head. I'm sure Wei Wuxian would also be happy to help.)

TL;DR it is really important thematically that Jin Guangyao did not transfer his hatred for life to Jin Ling, who, along with Lan Sizhui, is part of the novel's hope for the future. Jin Guangyao looked at his nephew and he gave him a puppy (who can protect him AND love him) instead.

[gothhabiba]

here's one that's even more bonkers that I didn't report on. it involves writers over at Haaretz being very incompetent.

on the age of chickpea cultivation in Palestine, people variously say 10,000 BC, 8400 BC, 8000 BC, 7000 BC &c. as if at random.

foodtimeline.org (which supposedly provides sources to the researcher but has betrayed me many, many times) cites: Food in the Ancient World From A to Z, Andrew Dalby [Routledge: London] 2003 (p. 84).

Dalby says:

Chickpea, one of the oldest cultivated pulses in the Near East. Chickpeas were grown in Palestine by 8000 BC.

this book is actually useless from a research perspective and belongs to what I like to call the "just some guy saying something" approach to making claims. none of the works cited at the end of the page on chickpeas (yes! none of the claims are associated with a particular work! there are no footnotes! so if you want to trace a particular claim, you've gotta look in each work mentioned! lol!) are scholarly works either, all of them also belong to the "some guy saying something" school of thought, and, most dizzyingly, none of them contain the 8000 BC claim!

okay, let's take another tack. wikipedia says:

"The earliest well-preserved archaeobotanical evidence of chickpea outside its wild progenitor's natural distribution area comes from the site of Tell el-Kerkh, in modern Syria, dating back to the early Pre-Pottery Neolithic period around (c.8400BCE). [12]"

[12] turns out to be an article titled "The Strange Origin Story of the Chickpea" on Haaretz (ugh), which is hardly a scholarly source, but perhaps it cites one! Haaretz says:

The question addressed in a new paper published in May in the journal of Molecular Biology and Evolution is historic: how the domestic chickpea arose and spread, first apparently to the Middle East – signs of chickpea domestication were identified in el-Kerkh, Syria, that may be as old as the 10th millennium B.C.E. – and onwards, the western Mediterranean and to Asia, and to eastern Africa (specifically, Ethiopia).

the particularly sharp-eyed among you may notice that "10th millennium BC" (10,000 to 9,001 BC) is a different claim from "8400 BC," but, oh well, let's click that link.

it's a paper titled "Historical Routes for Diversification of Domesticated Chickpea Inferred from Landrace Genomics." it contains no references to the finds in el-Kerkh, or to a 10th millennium BC claim, or a 9th century BC (which the year 8400 belongs to) claim; it's more about developing a model to trace spread, rather than attesting evidence for any particular date. the author of this article must have just added the information about the site in Syria from, idk, their own background knowledge? lol.

but let's keep pushing this. elsewhere in the same article, a paper titled "Draft genome sequence of Cicer reticulatum L., the wild progenitor of chickpea provides a resource for agronomic trait improvement" is linked. this paper contains in its introduction the claim:

Chickpea was domesticated with wheat, barley, peas and lentil as a member of West Asian Neolithic crops during the origin of agriculture around 10,000 years ago with the oldest archaeological evidence from 7500 B.C.4,5 

also a very different claim from both "8400" and "10th millennium BC", but okay, let's try to trace this one.

citation 4 is a paper titled "Evolution of cultivated chickpea: four bottlenecks limit diversity and constrain adaptation," and it also has to do with something completely different from archaeological evidence for chickpea cultivation. in reference to the claim it is cited to support, it contains only the sentence:

Chickpea is [...] associated with the origin of agriculture in the Fertile Crescent some 10000 years ago.

for this rather vague claim, they themselves cite two other sources: 2000, Lev-Yadun et al. "The cradle of agriculture," Science 288, 1602-1603; and 1999, Zohary D, Hoph M "Monophyletic vs. polyphyletic origin of the crops on which agriculture was founded in the Near East," Genetic Resources and Crop Evolution 46, 133-142.

citation 5 is Harlan J. R. 1971, "Agricultural origins: centers and noncenters," Science, 174, 468–474. this one says, summarizing other research, that in the "Near East" (bleucgh)

barley, einkorn, emmer, peas, lentils, flax, vetch, and chickpeas appear to have been domesticated, together with sheep, goats, pigs, and possibly cattle.

the source for this sentence is G. Wright and A. Gordus, Amler. J. Archaeol. 73, 75 (1969).

okay, well, this is starting to get obviously silly; trying to trace these claims further and further back until a primary report of an actual archaeology site is found is clearly pointless, especially since at this rate the find would be from like 1954 and almost certainly new evidence has come to light since then.

let's try something else. despite the fact that Haaretz's "signs of chickpea domestication were identified in el-Kerkh, Syria, that may be as old as the 10th millennium B.C.E" claim didn't actually come from the source that they cited, surely it must have come from somewhere?

I find two papers describing the finds in el-Kerkh, written by the same team. "The origins of cultivation of Cicer arietinum L. and Vicia faba L.: early finds from Tell el-Kerkh, north-west Syria, late 10th millennium B.P." is the one that deals specifically with the chickpea findings.

aha! here, perhaps, is the source of the "10th millennium BC" claim! I suspect someone misread the title of this article, and read nothing else!!

the trouble is twofold: 1. "10th millennium BP" is given as the age of the site, not specifically of the cultivated chickpeas that were found; and 2:

"BP" is not "BC"!!!

"BP" is a metric of time used in carbon dating. it means "before present." the "present" is set to the year 1950, since this is close to when carbon dating was introduced. 10,000 years before 1950 is 8050 BC, and this is the absolute oldest date allowable based on just the title of the paper.

however, if we actually read the paper (or, I mean, skim it for a date, lol), we finally find something concerned with dating a particular site rather than making a genetic model; still better, we find this beautiful, readily comprehensible table shewing us "Archaeobotanical records for C. arietinum [...] in the early Neolithic periods", citing a specific site, the number of beans found there, the estimated date BP of those beans based on carbon dating, and a reference to the paper that details each find:

the "this paper" reference based on the Tell el-Kerkh site gives the date

9350-9165 B.P.! that's 7400-7215 BC! we have a date range at last!

other papers in this chart give estimates that are more recent (e.g. 9320 - 9175 BP), based on papers from the 80s and 90s.

so, if this paper is more recent that any other citation I found during this whole journey (2006), and it claims to have pushed the date on the earliest piece of archaeological evidence for cultivation of the chickpea back (note that archaeological is different than evidence based on literature, genetics, &c.), then where on earth are "8000 BC" and "8400 BC" coming from? I still don't know.

tl;dr: a lot of people say that wikipedia, research blogs online, popular news publications, and things of that ilk are not sources on their own, but that they can be a good starting point to help you find sources. I no longer believe that to be the case. you are better off just starting in jstor or google scholar &c. and ignoring everything else. the claims you find in the latter way may, however, still be wild goose chases even if they are published in scholarly journals. the citation webs in academic journals are dizzying and people rarely trace a claim back to its actual origin, instead content to cite a source that cites a source that cites a source that cites a source........

anyway. I share my humble stories simply for entertainment purposes only.

[slavicafire]

Dear Żmija, do you know how to remove curses from objects? I swear whenever I wear my favourite earrings the day ends with me crying.

now, there are plenty of ways to rid an object of any evil that might reside within it - either by curse or bad luck, or a variety of other reasons - as this is the subject that folk magic predominantly deals with, and then as well one of my favourites. the three ideas I will list here are based on slavic magical customs - some modified when it comes to their complexity or scale, as we are talking about a small object here instead of a house, cow, or daughter - but do bear with me, as the issue itself deserves a bit more analysis than just a two-step instruction.

I assume 'the day ends with me crying' means that something bad happens other than just causing you to cry for no apparent reason - if that's wrong, please let me know and we can look at it from a different perspective.

first, why curse? curse assumes deliberation - do you believe there is someone who would want to harm you in such a way? or are the earrings themselves, for example, inherited from a family member or bought from someone and believed to carry some sort of residual curse within them? it's worth looking into this and especially into why you believe it might be a curse. sometimes those fears reside purely within ourselves, no curses necessary, and a careful examination of your own assumptions and worries yields the best results.

second, why are they your favourite? and does the fact that they are your favourite affect the frequency of you wearing them, or the occasions you choose to wear them for? if you wear them often, the chances of something going wrong are simply statistically higher. if you wear them for very important or stressful occasions, it only makes sense that you would be more susceptible to having a harder time with any possible, related failure. perhaps it's worth putting the earrings aside and carefully, as objectively as possible, examining the events that happen even without you wearing them.

and now, at last, if you would still like to do some good old magic, even if just to calm your mind and allow for further objective examination of the first two points, here are some of my favourite methods:

find in your vicinity whichever sambucus plant is native for your region - now, in slavic magic, this would usually be either sambucus ebulus (danewort) or sambucus nigra (elder). find a young flexible branch and without tearing it off or damaging it, bend it to make a loop. then, put your earrings through that loop three times - as they pass through, any widely understood evil will pass to the tree, and through its wild sacred roots back to the soil. and soil, sweetest mother, fears no curses and eats them up just as she will eat us up one day.

another method is to leave your earrings overnight in a fistful of grain, and then the next day take that grain and scatter it outside, where no people walk. the idea is both for the grain (one of the most sacred things we have, as the foundation of our nutrition and agriculture) to take the evil away, but also for the grain itself to be an offering to spirits (good or less so, depending on your own belief and situation regarding the curse) in the form of birds. where no people walk is important in the regard that someone stepping over that grain accidentally could transfer whatever evil to themselves, and that's just an unfortunate way to ruin someone's already bad monday. crucial! research the birds of your area and choose the grain itself carefully, so that you do not cause any harm to the animals and the environment.

and finally, you can also tie your earrings - the idea is that tying a knot on an object ties the evil within it as well. one way to do it is to use red thread - tie your earrings with it, make a knot, then remove the thread without untying it (you can unclasp the earrings, slide the thread off, whichever works, it doesn't have to be tied securely at all) and then burn the thread itself. otherwise, you can put your earrings in a piece of fabric and tie that bundle, and making sure the knot doesn't get undone, pull the earrings out (by cutting a hole in the bundle, for example). bonus points for sticking a needle into the fabric before you get them out.

best of luck, dearest stranger, and might you have no reason for tears any time soon.

[grifff17]

Audiodrama Sunday 04/28/24

So much stuff this week! I think this is going to be my longest writeup yet!

@camlannpod what the fuck? Trying to avoid spoilers, but the ending of that episode was wild. The sound design for the last scene was so good. Also “You're good with an axe, right?” was brutal, I audibly said "oof". Only 1 more episode in the season, hopefully they get funding for a second one.

The first episode of @wanderersjournalpod came out this week. This was a promising start to a new show, I'm excited to see where it goes from here. The setting feels very mystical, I can't wait to learn more about the world.

@worldsbeyondpod was so tense. Suvi and Ame had the most awkward conversation in existence. This story has so much nuance, neither of them are clearly in the right, though I feel inclined to take Ame's side due to the "Geas + Alter Memory" double espionage scheme. Meanwhile Ursulon discovers that Orima of the Reaching Green is a short queen and gets a cool horse.

I'm now up to date with @lostterminal. Season 15 was great. I love Nia, and Daphne and Raffi were really interesting new characters. Also, the dragon was terrifying. This show doesn't usually have very much action, so the confrontation with it really stood out. The description of the automatic turret going "click, click" as it locked on to Maddie was so intimidating.

@worldgonewrongpod I loved this episode. The storytelling felt so natural and real, like someone telling me a story about a weird road trip they went on. I think I said this about the last episode too, but this was my favorite episode yet. It also sets up the backstory which was never really explained as to why Jamie and Malik are separated at all.

In @midstpodcast we finally had a nicer episode. No horrible fucked up Weep/Trust stuff happening, just Lark reunited with Zeila and Sherman. However, there's so much tension between these characters. I was surprised that Lark forgave Sherman for selling her out. Something to remember is that Lark and Sherman had been hooking up before everything went to shit, which was mentioned once and I think really changes their relationship.

New @keepitsteadypod! This is the first new episode of this show since I started doing these. This was a really cute episode. For how popular fake dating is as a trope in fandom spaces, you don't see a lot of it in audiodramas.

Fun episode of Mission Rejected this week. It was cool to see Bowden go from "vain actor" to "badass spy" when the stakes ramped up. We don't get to see him take charge very often, it was neat for him to be a competent leader. I wonder if the gang lying to Zelda(who definitely saw through it) and Chet(who probably didn't) is foreshadowing for more of a conflict with the new Secretary of Defense later in the season. Also I loved the squabbling gay couple running an illegal mining operation as the villains of the week.

@breakerwhiskey episode 200 wow. A letter from Harry! We learned that Harry has been listening to most of Whiskey's broadcasts, which recontextualizes a lot of the previous episodes. Also, the end was heartbreaking.

I started season 2 of @longcatmedia's Mockery Manor! I'm 2 episodes in and really like it so far. JJ and Bettie are employed in different parks, JJ is on the run from an organized crime ring, and Bettie became a monk? Also, it's clear that neither Hilda nor Jenkins stole the shipment, neither of them have motive. But I don't know who else would have motive either. Lots of mysteries this season.

Spout Lore had a great planning episode. I'm excited for the "saving Highspear" arc, the Highspear is so cool as a concept. A reverse Tower of Babel, that lets the whole world talk with each other. A literal monument to wizard hubris, which feels destined to fall. However I doubt it will, because, as the players mentioned, it would be really annoying from a storytelling perspective if everyone suddenly spoke different languages. This has actually made me realize I really want a story set shortly after some sort of "fall of the Tower of Babel", where communication is a struggle, but that's just because I think linguistics is cool. Anyways, the buffet talk had me rolling.

What a great week! However, it did not help my queue, which continues to grow instead of get smaller. I'll reach the end of it one day.

[mettywiththenotes]

Once upon a time I expected the story to deconstruct the roles of heroes and villains in the way that these are just people given titles that society defines them by for the rest of their lives, and I think, in a way, the story does do that a little with Tomura and Izuku

Tomura is shown in light tones, almost angelic, and is called "a hero for the villains" at the end of his character. Which I feel is a change from what he's been known as since the manga introduced him: a villain. He's always just been a villain, no matter his circumstances, because that's what the story pushes and that's what the heroes repeatedly call him. But "a hero for the villains" turns it on its head because its the first time the story (not the heroes, notably) suggests that maybe he's been a hero this entire time, just in a different way, giving a spin to the term "anyone can be a hero"

Izuku is shown in dark tones multiple times, depicted as villainous, almost demonic, in appearance. Which isn't a new thing per se, but it shows a hero can still be a hero even if they look like a villain sometimes. Izuku's incredible anger and recklessness complete this look for him because it is terrifying to be up against someone who will not allow their body's limitations to keep them from their goal. Visibly breaking yourself while still dragging yourself to fight is "scary", "dangerous", "violent", all words commonly associated with villains, too. His rogue arc costume is the first to display this (the visible neglect, the blood and mud, making him look unapproachable) as well as his black whip form (allowing a quirk to dig beneath his skin, in order to move himself around like a puppet, to give him claws and sharp teeth, combined with his wild expressions. The way it looks as if it is infecting him (no wonder Hori called it Carnage)). And it's no coincidence that both have the exact same dialogue upon others seeing them: "I'd never guess you were a hero."

You could also argue, depending on your perspective, that Izuku is sort of a villain for the villains. The villain's villain. Because he couldn't get through to Dabi in war arc (even though he's the Hero Hopeful MC who got through to Dabi's brother and struck a chord in his father so he should be able to get involved and do it, right?), he couldn't connect with Toga (he basically just made things worse by refusing to understand why she thinks the way she does), he kinda sorta killed Tomura (even tho it was an accident, but remember that shortly before this happened Tomura was suggested as a hero for the first time in the story), and he broke Spinner's heart by doing this

Of course, these things aren't inherently villainous. But they aren't marks of a hero, either. They don't usually kill the people they are trying to save, or struggle to even contemplate connecting with the opposing side, especially towards the end of a story

This isn't me saying Izuku was "the real villain" and Tomura wasn't "the real hero" either. I'm trying to say that these are just people who have found themselves on opposing sides, forever given a title that is meant to define them, and yet the story manages to show how their titles of Hero and Villain aren't what they are defined by. It's their actions, which in many ways, can be both bad and good. By mixing it up a little (Izuku being a hero but looking villainous, unable to connect with other villains) (Tomura being a villain but looking quite heroic, able to connect with those who have been ignored by their peers/society), I think it shows that, similarly to "anyone can be a hero", anyone can also be "a villain" too

Because everyone in the entire world is capable of good and bad that can impact the wrong and/or right people

On the whole, it's a human way to show them, and even though Tomura wasn't physically saved, I think the story at least succeeds in showing that human side

[tlouconfidential]

Of course labeling people as "good" or "bad" all depends on perspective, I don't think I hate Abby lol I'd be pissed if someone killed my dad too. She wild as hell tho for tracking him down after all these years lol, but i guess ellie does beat her in that apartment 😭 it's giving "I am crazier!!!!" vibes.

Obviously Joel is no saint and eventually someone was gonna get real pissed with him, but i will say, if someone killed my dad to save their child, it would make me think twice. Abby tried reassuring her dad and saying "if it was me I'd want you to go through with the surgery" but i think it's easier for her to say that when she's not the one on the operating table. They knocked ellie's ass out so they could kill her, mind you she's a CHILD.

And yes, Joel was fuckin brutalll with killing all those fireflies in the hospital, but its not like he could've waltzed up to the OR and said "hey, let go of my kid and lets talk it out!!" I dont think the fireflies were leaving him much of a choice either....

They clearly knew who joel and ellie were in the tunnel, marlene saying "oh they didn't recognize you sorry for knocking you out" was such fuckin bullshit. Someone said there were journal entries from when joel and ellie first entered the tunnel, they've also been anticipating their arrival for months so i'm sure they knew who the fuck joel and ellie were.

I'm sure Abby was bitter over the death of friends too, but i don't think she cared as much about the fact that there couldn't be a cure anymore as she was about her dad being killed. I'm not excusing what joel and ellie did, i definitely think ellie did a lot more damage than abby did, but I don't think Abby is completely innocent either. I'm just irked at naughty dog for making ellie suffer so much and have her end up alone, couldn't they have cut her some slack like goddamn. Not to mention joel and tommy would never have been dumb enough to tell strangers their names, I don't care if they've been in jackson for 20 years I dont think those kinds of instincts leave you. Hell even on outbreak day when that family was asking for a ride joel already wanted to not help them. Yeah whatever i know they needed it to happen for the story to progress, yada yada. They could've done something a little different though idk. and yes, even if they did say fake names I'm sure abby would still already know who they were, who knows though it could've bought them a little bit more time before it all went to shit.

.

[bluebugjay]

so I've had this little not too serious theory in my head that the couple from Wild Blue Yonder and That Unwanted Animal are the same couple just in two separate time lines.

So to me it seems like the wby couple has realised they should break up (Seen that wild blue yonder and said, "Let's end this, too"), that if they don't their relationship will only grow toxic and hold them back. They're both scared of moving on (let's hide under the covers, we don't know what's out there) and being alone in the world again but they know its for the better (Don't you ever wonder what could have been? All those wonders sit in wait for us, we tried ) and plan to use everything they've learnt in this relationship on their next (Every brick you hurled, I'll use to build this world) I like to think they mutually break up in this time line and manage to move on happily.

However in tua it seems like it's telling the story of if the couple didn't break up at that point and allowed their relationship to rot and grew bitter with each other, they let their fear of moving on and the unknown keep them chained down and together so they never got that freedom they do in the wby time line. (You try so loud to love me, I cannot seem to hear.) They're trying to force themselves to continue on as a couple and not communicate how its not really what either of them want (And on the creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out (let me out!)). To the point they're both stuck in an unhealthy relationship, resenting and possibly hating each other. (Be good to me, I beg of him, Be good, be good, be good, be good, be good, be good, be good. And he replies (oh), "No, no, not I") It's also possibly hinted at that they have a child / children in this time line that otherwise they wouldn't have, and now that they see their relationship is crumbling, regret having (And I make sure the bairns are fed // Hold the hand of the god-child, they said, as he falls from the sky)

More under the cut

They both also reference sex in two completely different ways. Wby seems to reference some kind of last goodbye, break up sex for fun like a celebration of their relationship. (So one last time, love, come and rip my clothes off // Come and rip off my socks like you're blasting the locks off of a bank vault (halt) This time we're done for.) Whereas tua's reference to sex is so much more forced and kind of unsettling because it doesn't seem much fun for either party and almost like they're just performing as a happy couple. ('Cause you, you touch, my skin peels off like paint, but beneath all of our panting, there's this noise I cannot shake // And we fall into each other, the scratching grows so loud // And our screaming joins in unison, I cry out to the Lord.) It's two completely different perspectives of the same thing.

There's also a few parallels in the lyrics such as:

Hide under the covers, We don't know what's out there // There's a second wind coming as we lie here in our bed

Try, please, try for me (Tried my best to get thinner) // And as the belt from your buckle is tightening

And the candle we lit. Well, we'll use it to burn this whole place to the ground // And you, you, you light a candle. And I make sure the bairns are fed

I've got something in my eye (I surrender what was) // "And can't you hear that scratching?" I ask your eyes

We don't know what's out there. Can't you hear that scratching? // Well, can't you hear that scratching? There's something at the door

That last one being the most obvious and telling because it's the same exact wording with probably a similar meaning but completely different presentation. In wby they're wondering what's out there whereas in tua the 'creature' is already at the door and they know it. The 'creature' could be a couple things, it could be a personification of their toxic relationship itself, the fact its seemingly not arrived in wby because they break up before it turns toxic whereas its right at their door in tua because they're living the toxic relationship. It could be yearning for freedom from the relationship, both versions of the couple are hearing it and want it but the wby couple break up and let the 'creature' in before it turns against them compared to the tua couple who leave it locked out until 'the door below, it splinters, and the creature creeps inside.' The creature could be them as a couple trying to escape the relationship (And on the creature scratches, it doesn't know how to get out (let me out!)) because being in the relationship has turned them into each other 'unwanted animals' and the scratching they hear in wby is just a warning of what could come.

Other than that the whole energy of the songs are almost opposites, wby is so full of life and hopeful and light hearted whereas tua is unsettling and concerning and makes a point to add a joke in the lyrics that flies over the other partner's head because all fun and ease has abandoned that version of the relationship. ("Well, hello, my hollow Holofernes" I wink, but you don't get the joke)

I know there's a few different parallels between a couple of their songs so this is probably just one of them and might even be able to be expanded on using more songs but either way I think it's pretty interesting and very cleverly done

[tayloralisonswift]

sorry just realized how well dear reader and it’s time to go work together & i need to sit down a fucking second

LIKE OKAY first of all i’m the only one in the fandom who gives it’s time to go the respect it deserves. my favorite lyric of all time is “he’s got my past frozen behind glass but i’ve got me” and it is at first glance the antithesis to dear reader. so let’s start by looking at how they contrast.

in dear reader, she’s created a pen for herself and her friends have left her. in it’s time to go, who she once was is penned in by someone else’s making, and she doesn’t have any friends here either. (it’s worth noting that in dear reader, she’s “pacing”, but in it’s time to go, she’s entirely frozen. she can’t even breathe.) in both instances, she is achingly alone. entirely vulnerable. but in one of them she finds that who she’s become is worth living for. in the other, she can’t fathom trying to break out of her pen because she thinks she deserves it.

on a more literal level, dear reader is obsessed with offering advice and then clarifying that you shouldn’t take it. meanwhile, the majority of it’s time to go is addressed to /you/, giving you advice. it’s interesting, because both songs advise you to run. in it’s time to go it’s because you have to make your own closure when something needs to end. meanwhile, in dear reader, it’s out of panic that you may be trapped, it’s impulsive, the dinner is not cold it’s just scary-feeling. what’s wild about dear reader’s pen is that we know for certain that she could leave at any time - we know this because we see her walk there. it’s time to go hide, it’s time to go pretend someone else brought this isolation upon me.

the thing with it’s time to go that’s always held me captive is that it tells many stories of different people making decisions to move on, but they all end entirely alone. the stories end in divorce, breakups, cutting ties with toxic friends and business relationships. when her past is frozen behind her, she too walks to a house, not a home. ‘cause nobody’s there.

what is my point? well, both songs fuck. that could be the entire reason but i do think there’s something here. i think the songs describe the same scene but with different perspectives. it’s time to go considers what to do when you’re trapped and dear reader is so afraid of feeling trapped that she sabotages anything that could potentially ensnare her. they’re sisters - they’re two ways of reading crushing loneliness.

i guess what i’m saying is you decide if you’re walking to a house. you can be entirely alone and make yourself a home.

[bbinkus11]

Okay, @hotcheetohatredwastaken, listen up.

I got your fic!!!!!!!

I know this isn’t what you wanted right now, but I’ll have a chapter for each of the boys. So there will be ten chapters, all centric for the different boys in Hamilton. This one was to get everything straight, to get roles situated, etc.

I hope you like it! 👇

Roles!!

Ganondorf: Director

——— Links

Legend: Alexander Hamilton

Hyrule: Aaron Burr

Twilight: Hercules Mulligan

Sky: John Laurens

Wild: Lafayette

Four: Samuel Seabury/Charles Lee

Time: Phillip Schuyler

Wind: Young Phillip Hamilton/Ensemble

Warriors: George Washington

——— Zeldas

Fable: Peggy Schuyler

Dawn: Ensemble/Background singer

Dusk: Angelica Schuyler

Sun: Eliza Schuyler

Flora: Prop and Stage crew/likes telling people what to do

Dot: Ensemble/Background Singer/stage and prop crew

Lullaby: Down in the pit (ocarina)

Tetra: that one lady that stops the bullet at the near end so Hamilton can recap/ramble/ensemble

Artemis: Down in the pit playing music (violin)

(I apologize for the lack of roles the Zelda’s get, there aren’t many female roles in Hamilton and I don’t have many choices) :(

———

“Legend, this is a rehearsal, not the actual show. Get your coat on and let’s go.” Hyrule poked Legend before leaving, rolling his eyes playfully.

“‘Rulie, I’m pretty sure Hamilton wouldn’t like it either if his hair looked like a mess in a ballroom.” He shot back, not being rude, but in a sarcastic way.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Legend this time.” Warriors added to their short conversation, poking his hair under his hat.

“No one asked you, Warriors. You’re basically bald!” Wild said as he walked in, still using his French accent.

“Hey!”

“Okay everyone, get your stuff and go! Artemis won’t stop playing the same song over and over again. She overthinks too much, I swear…” Flora trailed off at the last part. Otherwise shouting the first part. Everyone practically terrified of Flora and her consequences (and the clipboard she hit everybody with), everyone quickly shuffled out of backstage and into their spots for ‘Helpless’.

Sun’s perspective was… confusing. Lining up her lines with the music, spinning, dancing, and remember to add vibrato! Her thoughts invaded her constantly when she sang, it drove her crazy. “-and my heart went boom-“ The sound affect was spot on, now just keep going to the left, grab Dusk and drag her along with me…

Legend’s perspective was slightly less confusing, coming in slightly after the song starts and walking over to the stairs on the left side, being aware of his surroundings and making sure everything goes smoothly and planned. He stands on the stairs for a bit and oh Dusk is coming, look intrigued, meet Sun and go from there.

The background dancers' skirts spun and the music led them. The piano was on beat with their steps, changing with the notes and turning with the lyrics. Waiting for entrances was the worst part, but the dances were enjoyable and the singing had to be done with ease.

After the long rehearsal, the actors and actresses all met backstage.

“Anyone want to come to the Diner down the street with me and Flora?” Wild simply asked, tugging his boots off to put his blue Crocs on.

“Hell yeah!”

“No Wind, your grandma told me to get you home by nine. Also, it’s way too late for someone your age to go and get caffeine, you know…” Sky kindly objected. He was busy getting his keys, phone, wallet and all of his stuff in check before he left with Sun and Wind. He always manages to forget his things, apparently.

“I’ll go! Dot will too. I will be late though because I have to drop off my violin at home so it doesn’t go out of tune again, in this cold.” Artemis shouts from across the room.

“Me and Wars will go. Maybe Four will if you bug him enough.” Twilight adds. Shaking his muddy boots, he somehow got a kick on one of the wooden posts backstage. Dot was immediately on him, scolding him about not knowing how hard it is to get those up. “Sorry! Sorry!” Was all he could say before being pushed out of the backstage door.

“Welp, guess we’re going that way. Anyone else?” Wild sighed.

“Not me, I'm old and tired.” Time says, walking out the door.

“I’m going home.” Dawn and Dusk almost say in unison.

“I’m gonna go to my friends house, tell Legend to yell at me if anything happens.” Fable says in between several taps of her phone.

“Hyrule and I are coming. Give me a second, the zipper on my bag broke again.” Legend says, his back to Wild.

Wild looks around, observing Lullaby, Four, and Tetra are already nowhere to be seen. He waited a second, before feeling a breath on his neck.

“Ah!-“

“You.”

“Geez, what, Flora? I told you we’re leaving in a minute.”

“Give. Me. Your. Mic.”

“Ohhh, haha, totally didn’t forget about that. It happens, you know? Yeah, haha, I’ll get that for you…” Wild nervously laughed as he dug through his duffel bag, his face growing redder and redder in realization that he couldn’t find it. Flora is going to kill him, do doubt. He continued shoving through piles of who knows what, and almost melted when he felt the thin metal line that felt suspiciously like his mic. He handed her the microphone, still melting.

“Lose this again, and you’ll lose your head.” Flora threatens, before turning her back and stomping to the door that leads to the light and sound booth.

Legend and Hyrule were ready by then. Twilight had been kicked outside. Artemis was going to be late. Warriors was probably still in the mirror. Flora was gonna be out in a minute. Perfect! Let’s go eat dinner with a bunch of music and history geeks.

—

“Still, I don’t get why you think half notes are better than quarter notes. The shorter the better. It’s what I used to say to Four, heh.” Dot says, closing her laptop to shove an entire handful of fries into her mouth.

“Because! They're half notes! What more needs to be said!” Legend argued from across the table.

“Legend, if you yell one more time, I swear I’m gonna call Fable to come and pick your petty ass up.” Hyrule mumbles so only Legend can hear. They had been arguing about half notes against quarter notes for the last fifteen minutes. And honestly, whole notes are superior, depending on the key signature.

“Okay,” Flora sighed, finally finding a space of silence, “all jokes aside, how do we think it’s going so far?”

“I’m lovin it. My rap part is better than all a’ y’all’s. I basically get to say ‘your mom’ in a history musical. It’s great.” Twilight says, leaning back in the restaurant booth chair.

“I like finding something to do with my voices.” Wild claims. “I can do a French accent, British accent, American accent, Elmo, Dr. Doofenshmirtz, Twilight, Russia-“

“Hey! What is tha’ supposed to mean?” Twilight interrupted, throwing his hands up. Wild just stared for a good three seconds, then continued. “King Julian from Madagascar, Cookie Monster, The dad from—“

“Okay, that’s enough. Anyone else?”

“I’m basically on the 1$ bill.”

“That has nothing to do with the musical itself, Warriors.”

“Yeah but still.”

“Please stop talking.”

An irritated sigh came from Flora. You would probably need to hypnotize them to get them to stay focused.

“I get to shoot Legend at the end!”

“Hyrule! You can't say that out in public!”

At least it was somewhat related to the musical.

—

Thank you for reading!! I know it’s short, but the others will be much longer (in a good way). I wrote this from trauma of how aggressive the people in charge of the microphones can be, like, they take it seriously.

Chapter two! 👉