#I know I know sometimes I feel like pinching myself while making these parallels or gifsets in general

[zoennes]

2.03 ♡ 2.04

[starsuh]

do re mi | myg

featuring. min yoongi x reader | 3.2k

summary. while teaching you how to play piano, min yoongi realizes that his dumbass might have feelings for you after all.

genre. fluff | f2l | roommate!au | mutual pining

warnings. a quarter-life crisis and a soft make-out scene at the end

Amongst Min Yoongi's many talents, his sixth sense of knowing when something was bothering you was the one that most oft caught you off guard. Whether it was the intensity in which you slammed a door shut, or the way in which you didn't choose to annoy the fuck out him like you did every other day of the week; he would notice each time. It was only clockwork that he tentatively wrapped his arm around your shoulders when you had collapsed against the couch with perceptible chagrin.

"What's up?" he asked, a simple question that often entailed a more than complicated answer. Peering down at your tightened features, he awkwardly patted your shoulder as if to make known that silence would be just as valid of a reply.

You ran your hands through your face. "I don't know,” you said. If you did, you would've told him, just as you told him everything. Though the pair of you had began as merely two people who happened to be roommates because there were no other affordable options, spending months watching Netflix with another person tends to lead to friendship — even best-friendship, though neither of you had established such a title. It was the kind of friendship that needn't clarification, rather it was just another unequivocal fact amongst many.

After kicking off your shoes (Yoongi would scold you for that in a less emotionally-turbulent time), you pulled your knees up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them in a ball-like manner. "It's really fucking lame but I’m just realizing some things,” he nodded, prompting you to continue. "I'm scared of the future, I think. I mean, everyone is, but when our prof was talking about internships and shit earlier I kind of freaked out then decided that hiding in the bathroom was the best option.”

In his gaze was a reassurance so intent that you had to look away lest you become ensnared in it. He oft had that effect, increasingly so throughout the past few weeks. "What about it?"

Your eyes fluttered closed as you took a deep breath. “I think I know what I want to do, but then I see other people, people like you, who are so passionate about their place on Earth that to not do that thing would be a fate worse than death. Like, I love the path that I’m on but there’s always a voice that’s telling me I’m gonna fuck something up and regret everything.” You played with the loose threads of your top, pulling at the offending stitching. You laughed. “This is so stupid. I guess I’m just realizing that I might not be cut out for it.”

His sudden silence filled the room so heavily that you began to wonder if you shouldn’t have said anything at all. Gears turned behind the messy black mop atop his head that hung over his eyes; a face similar to the one he makes when contemplating a new track he had produced, seeking for each of its flaws and corresponding solutions.

It was so sudden when he reached down to grab your hand that you almost jumped. An inch away from falling onto his chest with the sudden upwards tug, you steeled yourself. "I'll show you something," he said to which you replied with a questioning stare. "It'll just be a sec, c'mon."

You allowed him to drag you to his bedroom, though not without glaring at the back of his head and whining. "Your room smells like Cheetos and day-old boxers."

He rolled his eyes. "I cleaned it this morning, so shut up."

He pushed the door closed with his hip, never once letting go of your hand until he unceremoniously shoved you towards the left end of the keyboard bench. You wiped the accumulated hand sweat against the rough fabric of your jeans, both thankful yet forlorn that he had let go. His was a comfort rarely given and you craved his affection the way one did with a cat that ignored those around it.

He reached down to plug the extension into the socket. "Can I play you something?"

You blinked, unsure if the nervous tone laced in the question was figment or reality. “What?”

He gave you a blank stare though it didn’t distract you from the way his hands fidgeted in his lap. “I said, can I play you something? Something I wrote?”

Impatient, he didn’t give you a second glance or a moment to reply before his hands flew across the board, pulling melodies out of the nooks and crannies of its black and white keys. Through every note, he told you of emotion, of love, of heartbreak and melancholy. You don't think you had ever understood what music was until then. It was more than his expertise, though he was quite the expert; it was the way his eyes closed at certain shrills and the way his shoulders hunched at others, the way he slammed harder into the keys and at other parts softer. He played like a poet. A writer. And you refused to be someone who didn't appreciate it for what it was: a story told to you.

The slight smirk gracing his soft features told you that he found amusing the way your mouth gaped open in shock. You’d only ever heard the distant echoes of his sound from behind closed doors as you walked past.

Yoongi had never played for you before, was even shocked that he was able to now, knowing that your mere presence in close proximity provided quite the distraction.

When he stopped, the air almost rang in its silence, as if you had forgotten what the world sounded like without his music in it. The hush blanket laid across the room felt bare and vulnerable. You understood now more than ever why he locked himself within the confines of his space in all hours of the day. If you could live in his symphonies, you would.

"Wow.” Because what else could be said? "That was... Yoongi, you're amazing."

His smirk remained, though as more of a mask to hide softer feelings behind. "Must've been if you're complimenting me for once.”

"Because you already have a ginormous ego."

He began playing once more. This time, a slow and deceptively simple melody. The chords were arrows tightly strung that flew through the air in wisps of smoke. To you, its warmth was paralleled to the feeling of his own beside you, his arm occasionally brushing yours as he reached to play a few lower keys.

"I think you're taking it too seriously," he said. "The future, I mean."

Your brows furrowed. "I kind of have to, dude."

He rolled his eyes but kept playing, occasionally glancing at you as he did so. "What I mean is," he pressed softly against the keys in the left end of the piano, their tenor notes filling your ears. "You need to calm down. Like this," the already soft melody slowed. "You know what you want, don't you? Why are you hesitating?"

You stilled, the feeling of being both caught and scolded grounding you in time. Your eyes focused on his hands to avoid the feeling of his analyzing gaze on the side of your face. “There are things I want to accomplish but there’s also things I want to have,” you groaned in exasperation. “I don’t know if I should choose the former or the latter but they’re so entangled that I can’t even tell which is which anymore.”

"Some things are only difficult if you think they're difficult." He looked down at the keys. "Like playing the piano, everyone knows that learning it is hard but something like this-" he played three chords in succession. "-sounds simple, right?" He continued to play those same chords until they blended together in a single melodious breeze. "But when I was a kid, learning piano was the bane of my twelve year old existence. I hated it so much because my impatient ass wanted to be good without trying. So, in true dumbass fashion, I quit taking lessons after two weeks."

You tilted your head towards him. “How did you learn then?"

“Well, I realized I was being a huge pussy and went back." Shaking his head before the glaze of the memory could wash over, he nodded towards you. Grabbing your hand, he placed them over the keys. “Can I teach you a chord?”

Your heart spiked in one fell swoop. “What? And embarrass myself in front of the music god himself?"

He laughed and it lit up his eyes brighter than the screen of his laptop that he had forgotten to shut off, still on the League of Legends home screen. “I told you, it's only hard if you think it is."

Too flustered to argue, you could only watch as he directed your fingers towards the correct keys until three were stretched towards their respective positions. C Major. You wondered if he could hear the rapid pace of your heart through the vibrations on your skin from where his larger hand rested atop your own. You could only pray to any god who would listen that he didn’t.

Among the numerous feelings that bubbled beneath your chest, the sudden pinch of ice that struck your nerves as he lifted his palm away from yours was one that you were the most unsure of. Filing that thought away for later, you focused on the most important task at hand: avoiding looking like an idiot in front of Min Yoongi.

Before you could retreat, your hands pressed down.

A sudden burst of sound filled the silence that you hadn't realized had grown so deafening. Your eyes widened as if you hadn't expected the chord to occur despite Yoongi's administrations, like trying to guess a passcode and getting it correct in a miraculous feat of luck. The now fading sound was not like anything you were expecting, though you knew even monkeys could do what you had just done. It was an actual piece of the puzzle that was music rather than the CD case or paper bag that had come with it.

Likened to an excited pup, you looked towards him for praise or assurance that you had done it right only to catch his already grinning countenance at your widened eyes.

For the next half hour he taught you two other basic chords, never failing to correct you in such a patient manner that your heart rose and fell with each glance and soft appraisal.

"But sometimes," he grinned. "Sometimes you need to stop thinking."

Your brows furrowed, though you didn’t need more than a few seconds to understand his cryptic wording before you yelped, almost flying off your seat at the abrupt disruption of the peace.

He began smashing his hands against the piano, creating the worst orchestra your ears had ever had the pleasure to hear. Overcoming the shock, both of yours laughs bubbled out, drowned by the keyboard speakers. Without a second thought, you joined, key smashing against the lower end. Together, you created an ear-grating masterpiece of cacophonous noise and piercing melody, yet it was still one of the most beautiful things you’d ever heard.

Yoongi began cheering your name like the greatest hypeman in existence as you gave the most effortful performance of your life, hands pressing against the first keys you saw to the last. You didn't know what you were doing but it didn't matter, not when he was smiling with his gums on full display as you went with your gut for the first time in years. Yoongi, the boy whose hands crafted magic, whose words changed you, whose music moved you. Yoongi, who looked at you and saw past your forced pretensions and society-enforced perceptions.

You laughed until your lungs ached for air, having not even realized that your whole body leant against his as you tried to catch your breath.

"Oh my god, I think my ears are broken," you covered them, finally dragging your hands away from the keys.

His grin widened. “You're a quick learner."

“Is this the part where I say that it's because you're a good teacher?"

“Only if you're polite, which we know you aren't." He hadn't stopped smiling and you had never felt prouder of any accomplishment in your entire life. “Was I able to distract you?"

You laughed, bringing your hands back to your lap to fiddle with them. He's seen you wear the same ramen-stained hoodie three days in a row with hair just as ratty yet you had never more felt exposed. “I’d say yes but I think I���ve exceeded my Yoongi compliment limit for the day."

"And here I was thinking that that compliment limit was zero."

"Hey," you playfully knocked against his shoulder. "I always say your breakfast is good."

He knocked against you back, his eyes turnt to half-moons. "That's because you want to brainwash me into cooking for you everyday with half-assed compliments."

"Or maybe," you lightly leaned against his hoodie-covered shoulder. "It's because I like eating breakfast with you."

He paused, and a grin that could only be described as shy graced his features. He tapped against the keyboard but didn't press hard enough to allow a sound to be let out.

"I trust you," he said in the silence. "That you can follow your heart. Even if that sounds corny as fuck, I really believe it."

You smiled, something you've been doing more and more often with him around. "I'll try," you said, watching as he contemplated his next words with a bite of his bottom lip. Giving him time, you glanced back at the piano. "Is it really that simple?" You pressed on a key.

He finally looked up. "I think so," he played the key beside the one you had just pressed, the side of it touching yours. "Even if it doesn't sound right to other people, who's to say that random key smashing isn't music? When you think you're supposed to play a certain way, that's when you hesitate. Even when you fuck up a piece," he pressed another key. "Regretting it doesn't stop the echo."

He began to play another soft melody, leaving you just as entranced as you were the first time he did.

“I’m a hypocrite, though,” he closed his eyes, lightly scoffing. “Giving you advice that I can’t even take.”

Your voice came out in a whisper. “Why?”

“Because...” He took a deep breath, hands leaving the keyboard as he fully turned to you. “I like you," he said it like it were a fact you should've already known. “I... I like you. A lot. I can't remember when you stopped being my annoying roommate who'd hog the fridge space and became the annoying roommate who I couldn't stop writing songs about. Before I could even realize and stop myself, today’s me kept looking forward to tomorrow’s you. I’d be a hypocrite to tell you to stop hesitating about the things in your life while I spent every second of every day wondering whether I should tell you my feelings and ruin our friendship.”

For if there was anything Yoongi knew more than most was that love was fucking stupid. It caused people to be irrational, selfless, and weak-hearted, yet why did he want to forget the stupidity that came with it whenever you walked into the kitchen for breakfast, hair messy and shirt tousled?

Love was fucking stupid. But maybe he could be an idiot if it meant that you'd be stupid for him too.

“I know you don't feel the same way but I just needed to tell-" you kissed him before he could finish what was sure to be a sentence so ridiculous that even the most astute of linguists would be left baffled. He was Min Yoongi. The boy who spent all day locked in his room making music and playing games with his friends. The roommate who'd wake up early just to cook you breakfast. The friend who knew you better than you knew yourself. The man who you'd found yourself falling for with every gummy smile. Yoongi. It had always been Yoongi.

And he was kissing you back.

His lips were as warm as the hands that carefully wrapped around your hips, gently pulling you closer to him. He kissed the way he played, soft and thoughtful.

Pulling away, he whispered your name slowly, prolonging each letter as if to savor them. Never before had your name ever felt so wonderful a one. His forehead pressed against yours, eyes flickering between yours in disbelief. The hand around your waist tightened as if in fear that at any moment you might say that you hadn't meant to give him what had to be the best moment of his life -- that you had actually accidentally fallen on him and he had simply been mistaken.

"You're an idiot," you laughed. "I've liked you since the first time you've cooked me breakfast if the heart eyes I gave you each time weren't already a dead giveaway."

He shuffled in his seat. "You have low standards then," he said. "Or are in desperate search for a house-husband."

You smiled, your nose brushing against his. "Maybe, a bit of both."

He leaned away from you, eyes lit up in a euphoria that didn't hinder from his nervous cadence. "Actually, that song I played for you? Earlier?” You’d never seen him blush before. “I, maybe, composed it thinking of you.”

"A personal chef, jester, and composer? I think I'm winning."

His nose crinkled. "You know you can still back out, right?"

"You're acting as if I'd even want to."

"Stupid songs like that... I suck at love yet I still want to give you everything," he whispered, voice hoarse. "But my everything will still only amount to that."

"If that's your everything,” your hands interlocked with his. “Then your everything is more than enough."

"I like you," he murmured the confession between your lips as if it were clandestine, the urge to say it a million times more bubbling up from his chest. Though stronger than his urge to say it was his urge to hear you say it back.

Your lips met his completely. Perfectly. "I like you, too."

Pulling away once more you couldn't help but laugh at the reddened color of his cheeks and ears. Cutting away at the awkward and still unsure tension, he inched backwards with a startlingly loud clap of his hands. "Now that that's settled, can we go back to making out? This corny shit is so awkward."

"I can't believe I like you," you groaned but kissed him back anyway.

While there was nothing in your life that you could be sure of, you knew that the man whose smile could light up the entire city of Seoul would be there for you for every step, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[ninjaboy13779546]

Never Alone💚🖤(Sylki)

***Lamentis-1***

It was over, all hope now lost. Loki and Sylvie had just ran and fought through what seemed like a small army of guards, all the while dodging falling meteors and debris from buildings around them. And yet, it was all for nothing. For the Ark that they fought so hard to reach had been destroyed by an incoming meteor just seconds after takeoff.

The sight left Loki and Sylvie there, shocked, winded, and hopeless. To the point where Sylvie had left Loki to stand there in shock while she walked off.

It took a moment to come down from his adrenaline rush for Loki to realize he was alone. Looking around, he noticed Sylvie was nowhere around and ran off to go find her. That didn't take too long as he soon found her in an abandoned bar that they had ran through for cover a little earlier. He walked in and joined her at her place at the bar and took a seat.

"Well, other than that Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?" He joked.

That earned him a confused look from Sylvie as she looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"That's something I heard back on Earth." He explained, "Humans use it when a situation turns out to their misfortune."

"Right," she replied, still quite surprised as she poured him a drink as well.

When she finished pouring, she pushed Loki's glass to him and he took it with a half smile. "Thank you." He thanked her and she nodded back.

"To us, then," he stated, holding his glass up. Sylvie snickered at that and clinked the butt of her bottle with his glass and they both took their drinks. However, she actually 'bottoms upped' the bottle and took a few gulps which took a whole half of the bottle within those gulps, almost like superspeed. Seeing this surprised Loki and made him laugh lightly. "Well, you certainly drink like an Asgardian." He joked.

Hearing that, she paused and let out a hearty belch before slamming the bottle down onto the counter, but not too hard to break it.

"I'll take that as a compliment." She replied, giving him a momentary smile before leaning forward on the counter. With that she sighed heavily and shook her head.

Loki noticed all of this and could tell her mood was down. He knew it might not be the best question, but he still wanted to show some form of... compassion to Sylvie. So he went ahead and asked, "Are you alright?"

The blonde lifted her head and look at her counterpart before looking off and shaking her head.

"You know, I honestly don't even know why I'm so upset about it right now." She stated.

Loki furrowed his eyebrows at that. "What do you mean, upset about what?"

"This, Loki! The Ark, trying to get to it in time! I already knew it wasn't going to work, and yet I still ran..."

"We both did. You didn't do it alone. I was there too, remember?"

"Yeah," she hummed, "I suppose that's true."

"And yet you still went along with the idea, my idea mind you, and we both ran and fought together to try and get there."

As much as she hated to admit it, Loki was right. She had done all of that. "Touché." She replied, earning a laugh from them both. Loki's more lively than hers and hers was more suppressed.

Their laughter was cut short when the ground and building shook on account of another meteor impacting in the city outside. The quake lasted only seconds before slowly calming down. As it did, Loki let out a sigh of his own. This truly had been quite a day. First he'd met "The Variant", Sylvie she called herself. And she was quite fetching, formidable too. Just like him...no pun intended. They'd snuck onto a train, shared secrets, thrown from the train and tried to reach a rescue vehicle known as The Ark. Failing miserably in the end. And now, here they were. In a bar, awaiting their fate.

With that thought in mind, Loki's thoughts seemed to drift to him and Sylvie. All that they were able to do when they worked together. They actually worked so in sync, quite the dynamic. In fact, it actually made him...curious. "So why'd you do it?" He asked.

Sylvie looked at him with a side-eyed look. "Do what?"

"Run with me, go with my idea? If you knew the Ark was going to be destroyed regardless, why did you go along with it?"

And right there, Sylvie couldn't speak. Well, not that she "couldn't", but the answer to that was somewhat hard to put into words...for her, that is.

"Oh, I figured a good run would be fun before we die." A sarcastic smile showing as she said that, but Loki wasn't amused. Instead he still sat there with an eyebrow raised, awaiting an answer. Seeing this made Sylvie sigh and reach up to rub the temples on her head. Finally coming to terms with it, she reluctantly spoke it. "I was ready to give up and just about kill you too, to be honest...but, when you said that thing about the Ark never having us on it, it...it made me think...'maybe, just maybe we could do it.'...But it's over now and turned out to be a waste of time."

Hearing Sylvie explain that gave Loki a warm poke to the heart and a bit of pride too. One of his signature devilish smiles made it's way to his face and he gave a light chuckle. Sylvie noticed this and looked at him curiously.

"So you're saying that I...gave you a bit of hope, as it were."

Sylvie rolled her eyes at that but couldn't fight back the smile that came to her face as well. "Oh shut up, you!"

"Oh no, it's quite alright." The God of Mischief said, still holding that smile, "in fact, it's quite flattering to know."

His counterpart laughed and looked at him unbelievingly and shook her head before he gave her a wink.

This made her laugh a little harder at him, as did he With the moment. But their laughter was cut short by another piece hit outside, making the whole pace shake.

This made them both perk up, having almost forgotten what was happening outside. The shaking only lasted about two seconds before it slowly died down.

As it did, the two slowly began to settle back into their spots.

Loki, not wanting to end so...quietly, thought up a way to somewhat ease the tension. "Well, seeing as how we haven't got much longer, is there anything you'd like to say?"

"What're you talking about?"

"You know, like any last words. Maybe of sentiment, regret... confession." He gave a shrug.

Sylvie merely scoffed at that and held her look confusion. "Since when did you become so emotional? If you're anything like me, you ought to know that I don't do teary goodbyes or anything like that."

She had Loki there, that was true. But he also had a hidden ace to toss back. "And if you're anything like me, you know that you don't because those kind of moments make it to where we merely choose not to." When he said that, Sylvie knew she was cornered...so to speak. "Come on, Sylvie. We may not be honest to many others, but can't we at least be honest to each other?...I thought we trusted each other."

It was that last sentence, that last sentence that did it for her. Her breath hitched in her throat and her heart began to beat like a drum. Deep down, Sylvie sadly knew Loki was right. This might be the only chance she'd get to have some last tender words...and be honest about them too. And if there was anyone she could share them with, Loki for sure would not be her first choice. But he was currently all she had at the time so he'd have to do.

Before she could actually reply, the ground vibrated and the building shook as another meteor hit the moon outside. The shockwave from it hit them and shook the place once again before stabilizing soon after.

"Right, well...I didn't get to finish my mission, and now I get to die with a stupid parallel version of myself."

Loki simply closed his eyes and chuckled to himself before opening them again to see Sylvie smiling cheekily at him before wiggling her eyebrows at him as she had done earlier that day on the train.

"Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked.

"No, you're right, it was quite nice." She smirked, her words dripping with sarcasm and tease. "Your turn."

Loki actually took some time to "Well, to be honest, I don't have much to say."

"Well that's a first." She quipped with a smirk.

Loki looked to her, feigning hurt before expanding. "What I mean is, I've only a mere handful of actual good memories, the majority of them were before I grew into my adolescent years."

As he spoke about that, Sylvie listened and her breath hitched a bit. Because that was exactly how it was for her too.

"But, I can say that...well...as far as family goes, my parents were quite... interesting...I do suppose I'll miss them...more or less. And as for Thor, as annoyingly valiant as he may be...he was always trying to look for the good in me...sometimes even at the cost of his own life." Loki thought back to his video file he watched back at the TVA headquarters, when saw and heard Thor say that he believed that there was good in him and that her still stand with him, despite all he'd done in the past, he still would. Tears began to well up in Loki's at that, and it seemed to hit him. He actually missed Thor, he truly did. "I honestly couldn't have asked for a better brother...one I don't even deserve...but I'm glad I had him...yeah."

And that bit right there made Sylvie's heart pinch, and a tear began to form in her eyes. From the sound of it, Loki had had people try to be there for him since Day One. Even when he did bad things, they still showed him loved and mercy, giving him another chance...something she never had.

"Wow," she said out loud, "sounds like you had it all."

Loki shrugged at that and wiped his tears, composing himself. "Well, what about you?" He asked, getting the topic off him, "What about this 'postman' of yours? If he was here right now, what would you say to him?"

"That uh...that was really a joke. I said it to try and shut you up, but that obviously didn't work."

"Ohhh. So then, you don't have anyone waiting for you after all, do you? No family, no lover...not even any friends?"

Sylvie merely gave him a silent shake of the head and began to feel tears forming in her eyes. "When you're on the run from an organization that has control over all time for over twenty years...you doing exactly have much time to stop and make friends."

"So you truly are alone..." It was more of a 'realization' statement than a question, and it was confirmed by the silent nod and saddening look forming I'm her face.

Now, Loki felt a few years coming himself, or at least the need to. Here was a girl who had everything taken from her, lost much in very painful ways, and...who wanted to belong. All of these, seemed to define him currently right now. It was then Loki felt something he hadn't for quite a while...empathy.

"I'm sorry..."

Sylvie lifted her head at that and looked at him. "For what?"

"That your life was broken by the TVA, that I've intruded on your plan...And I am especially sorry that you've been alone, all this time."

Hearing this fro. Loki hit Sylvie like a ton of bricks. These was something she hadn't really heard throughout her years much. They were words of comfort and empathy, she was able to see. But she felt as though there was more.

"And for what is worth, I promise you," Loki continued, reaching for her hand and giving it a firm squeeze, "you won't be alone when this moon is gone...not this time."

Looking into him deeply, Sylvie could see there wasn't one hint of deception within his words. They were all sincere, caring and compassionate. She couldn't help but crack a smile at his words. "Thank you." She tearfully replied, sniffling a little.

Loki gave a short nod and smiled, not letting go of her hand. And she didn't let go of his either, instead holding it tightly herself.

Since the moment was tender and open, Sylvie felt a sense of safety and comfort with her next words. "Listen, Loki, since we're dying soon, I think I should confess something to you. About you, actually."

"Alright, what is it?"

"Back on the train, when you tried to tell me what love is, or how you understood I should say," she tried.

"Yes?"

"Well, your dagger metaphor was actually quite... accurate."

Once again, his smile returned and he had a light chuckle. "Did you just compliment me?"

Sylvie rolled her eyes and chuckled herself. "Don't let it go to your head."

"Oh no, but that's the best part of it! Not letting that go, ever."

"Well since we're confessing something, I guess I can share this." The God of Mischief let out a breath before continuing, "I do feel bad that there isn't anyone waiting for you... because if they were, they would have...quite the enchantress to expect. And I mean that in every sense of the word."

A twinkle in her eyes as Sylvie took in those words and felt her cheeks hear up. "That may be the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

"Well I'm honored to be the first." Loki smiled and took a dramatic bow, earning a other laugh from Sylvie.

Suddenly, another ground shake came, this one more severe than the last. And then more kept coming simultaneously. From this the two Variants could tell, the moon's end was among them.

"It seems as though our time is up."

"Yep," Sylvie agreed.

"Not exactly how I pictured dying this time, but, looks like there's no escaping this one."

Suddenly, an idea popped into Sylvie's head. "What if there was?" She asked Loki.

"What?"

Sylvie held up one of her hands and tapped her temple, referring to her power of enchantment, "If you let me in, I could use it to send you to a place within your memories and you won't feel it when the pain comes. It'll be just like a light turning off and turning a room dark...A peaceful ending."

While the idea did sound quite an appealing alternative to what was coming from outside, there was still one thing that worried him. "Well what about you?"

At that, a soft smile came to Sylvie as she heard the worry in Loki's voice. "It's ok, I'll be alright."

"No!" Loki retorted, determination in his eyes. "I will not let you send me off to some mental paradise while you stay here and endure this death alone! No, I made a promise that when you died, you would not do it alone. That I would be RIGHT HERE to suffer through it with you, and by Odin, I'm sticking to it!"

Like a hunter after prey, Loki was determined to stick with Sylvie. Now truthfully, she could've put him into his trance as he was ranting to her. Yet, she was mesmerized by the loyalty and compassion that Loki displayed in this very moment. Dare she say, she actually found it...attractive.

"Well what do you propose we do then?" She asked sweetly.

Almost instantly, Loki thought of an idea. "We could both could go. We could send each other into my memory and ride it out together."

From this a light smile came to her lips and a tear escaped from her eyes. Yet again this " idiot" she'd grown fond of thought up a way for them both still to work together and still have a peaceful ending. However, there was also one more sad factor that was left out. "But you don't know how to do it."

"Teach me, right now. Crash course lesson."

A look of hesitation appear in her eyes, but another squeeze from Loki's hand seems to break the ice as she let out a sigh and gave a short nod. "All right. First thing, go into your mind and think about a place you've been that you want to go. Once you find it, hold it there."

With those instructions, Loki them closed his eyes and began to think of a place. It took a moment and his thoughts surprised even him, but he finally found one and held on to it. "Ok, I've got it."

"Got it? Ok, now," Sylvie brought her hand up and positioned it as though she was getting ready for an arm wrestle. Fortunately, Loki knew what this meant and met her halfway, locking his hand with hers. "for this part, you need to clear your mind. Clear it out and focus on my voice. You should be able to see into my mind now...can you see me...can you?"

Loki searched and searched through the darkness, at first nothing. But what he found that helped was focusing on the sound of Sylvie's voice. He listened to it and it echoed throughout his brain. Focusing on it seems to make everything thing else around them slip away. Suddenly, a green spark of power emanated from his fingers and against her temple. He could feel her there and mentally moved towards her. The more he did, the brighter a small light which represented her presence seemed to shine until it shined purely within the darkness. He'd found her, he'd done it!

Eyes still closed, he smiled happily as he nodded. "I did it, I found you!"

Sylvie smiled at this and shed another tear of joy. It was working! She could feel him within her mind and he her too. "Good job! Now think back to that place you want to be...And take us there."

Finally, Loki focused on the place in his mind and also Sylvie, bringing her with him. Aaaaannnd...

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

It seemed to happen almost like a flash, but when the two opened their eyes and looked to see where they were, they could see that they weren't in the bar on Lamentis-1 anymore. Well, at least not physically.

They were now on a cliff that was somewhat familiar to Loki. He learned of it at the TVA when he watched his file on video. And now, here it was. A mental reality for him and Sylvie.

At first glance, Sylvie could tell they were in the countryside of some area. But curiosity still plagued her.

"Where did you bring us?" She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Looking out to the open sea before them, Loki began to feel tears form once again. "...This is where my father died."

Sylvie's head swiveled to look up at Loki, her eyes wide with surprise after hearing his words. "What?" She breathlessly asked.

Loki silently nodded, letting out a heavy sigh through his nostrils. "I saw this place in my file at the TVA...It's actually from my...well, what would've been my future."

Sylvie's heart began to ache for Loki. He truly had, in a way, come full circle, and yet it was still fraught with pain.

"I'm so sorry, Loki."

"It's ok. I'm sure my father was peaceful here when he died...He told me and Thor to remember this place...home."

"And you did," Sylvie lovingly commended Loki, looking him straight in his eyes, "and for the next few minutes or however long we have, it's our home now." She hugged him from the side to which he tearfully smiled and immediately hugged her back.

As he did, he thought about her previous words. Those were truly sincere and, well, loving. And he loved it. Opening his eyes to look at her, he noticed how close his face was to the top of her head which was buried in his chest. Feeling a sense of boldness, he lowered his nose into her hair and took in a good whiff of her scent. This did not go unnoticed by the woman as she perked her head up and eyed Loki with a teasing look.

"Were you just sniffing my hair?" She asked, already knowing the answer, but she still wanted to hear what he'd say.

Loki tried to play it off, but failed miserably. "No." His crooked smile was almost a dead giveaway.

Sylvie lifted an eyebrow with an "Oh really?" look before looking at his chest where his heart would be and smirked, she could feel his heart beginning to speed up. "Liar. Your body betrays you."

I'm that moment, Loki chuckled nervously and began to blush. Something that didn't really happen to him very often, if at all. "Can you blame me?"

Back in the real world, the two variants, while still in their deep-minded states, shifted their hands to interlock their fingers, strengthening their bond.

A small burst of green energy flashing their interlocked hands.

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

***Cliff, Loki's Subconscious***

Loki and Sylvie were still locked in their embrace until they say down on the huge boulder, still holding hands and looking out onto the open sea.

"It's beautiful, " the blonde variant stated, smiling at the water that reached all the way to the horizon.

"Right, beautiful," Loki agreed. But Sylvie felt that they weren't talking about the same thing. Turning her vision to him, she saw him staring at her instead of the horizon. He obviously found this view far more beautiful than the nature about them.

This caused to Sylvie to smile shyly before blushing herself. She lowered her to hide the red coming in her cheeks, but it was brought back up by Loki who had a finger under her chin. The feeling giving the blonde a warm feeling in her face and all over, while it gave Loki another small burst of courage.

Taking the hand already under her chin, he moved it to cup the back of her neck and slowly lean forward. To his surprise, Sylvie followed suit and leaned in as well. They kept nearing until they were just a lips distance away from each other.

"Loki?"

"Yes, Sylvie?"

"Thank you for not leaving me alone."

"Never."

With one final smile thanks to that, it was Sylvie who leaned the rest of the way in and brought her lips to his, cupping his cheek as she closed the small gap between them. Once their lips collided, Loki felt a strong wind blow, as did Sylvie. But this was the good kind, the kind that came when your heart is bursting with excitement.

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

***Reality***

The green swirls that surrounded the two grew stronger and shined brightly as the meteors outside came hurtling down, cracking the ground and taking out multiple buildings in the process. The moon had only seconds left.

Everyone outside had either sought shelter or ran frantically to avoid the incoming shower from above. But in this building, these two, Loki and Sylvie were oblivious to the forthcoming horrors of the outside world. For they were happy within their own little sanctuary, content with each other.

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

***Loki's Subconscious***

After what seemed like a glorious eternity, the two variants finally broke their kiss and came up for air. They breathed heavily and leaned their foreheads against each other and looked into one another's eyes, breathless smiled coming with them.

And though they wanted to continue, they resisted the urge and kept their eyes looked on each other and decided this was how they wanted to end. Looking into one another's eyes, the eyes of the one they had...the one they had fallen in love with.

"This is it." Loki stated.

"I guess so," Sylvie agreed.

The two took the other's hands and held tightly. Their end close at hand.

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

***Reality***

A huge junk of the cracking planet was now hurtling toward the moon, and it's landing point would be RIGHT in the city of Lamentis-1. None of the people within a mile of there would survive, more specifically, Loki and Sylvie, who were still in their enchanted state, would not survive.

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

***Bar***

Suddenly, a golden time portal opened up within the bar and Hunter B-15 and two other Minutemen came through and Saw the two variants they had searched relentlessly for.

"Get them!" She ordered.

The Minutemen complied and marched over to the bar and grabbed Loki and Sylvie, pulling them apart.

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

***Cliff, Loki's Subconscious***

Loki and Sylvie awaited their fate, hands together and foreheads connected. With eyes locked in each other until...

Everything went dark.

[rosy-wooyoung]

Angelic devil | k. hongjoong

word count: 2.7k pairing: demon! hongjoong x fem!reader genre: soulmate au, supernatural au [i tried ok i know it’s not good] warnings: mention of potential assault, might cause to cringe bc it goes too fast, doesn’t make a lot of sense, attempts at being funny??? A/N: when i say assault, it’s more like the reader being followed but her destiny is here to save her. also i love joong :( [damn that gif tho 👀]

You’ve always been known to be the lucky girl in town; you could cross the streets without looking and not get run over, you could go out in freezing winter wearing just a t-shirt, finding money on the ground while walking. You've fallen sick once or twice in your entire life, but it was always just a small cold. Nothing could take you down. You worked at the local convenience store and it was time for you to go home, the next person’s shift wasn’t before 6am. You started gathering your belongings, putting money in the cash register as you grabbed food for your breakfast, turning off the lights before locking the main door. You took a deep breath of the fresh morning air and started walking to your student residence, eager to go to bed. The streets were dead asleep, a roaring motor passing another street here and there. 

As told before, you had always been the fortunate one. You heard stories from your classmates or friends about being followed at night while coming out of work or a nightclub, sometimes narrowly escaping an assault, a fight, or worse. But you were always astonished to hear about those stories because it never happened to you, and your friends were dumbfounded as well to learn that you never had similar sordid experiences. You were one block away from your home, passing by another student residence and noticed that some lights were still on, probably some fellow college students working hard. You sighed and enjoyed the quietness of the streets, almost finding relief in the darkness surrounding you. Your moment of peace got disturbed by rushed footsteps coming from behind you.

“What are you doing all alone in the dark, pretty girl? Looking for some fun?” you freed an ear from your headphones and frowned, turning around. “Are you talking to me?” you asked, eyes squinting at the man towering you. Maybe your luck was coming to an end tonight and started to prepare yourself for the worst. You stopped your music and put your hands in your sweatshirt’s pocket, cracking your thumb between your fingers. You kept staring at the man, waiting for an answer.

All of a sudden, the man’s eyes widened and took a step back, then another, raising his arms in surrender. You tilted your head and lifted an eyebrow, not understanding his sudden change of behaviour. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry, I’m going,” he said in a trembling voice and started running like his life depended on it. You stood there, bewildered, clearing your throat as you started walking again. You looked behind you to see if someone was scaring them, but you were only met with darkness, a meowing cat chasing a rodent. You safely reached your residence, still confused about the stranger’s behaviour but went to sleep without a second thought.

Something similar happened to you the following week, but it was on the bus this time. A man, who was around your dad’s age, kept staring at you and your chest area, your shirt neckline arriving right under your collarbone. Again, you paused your music to confront the man and cracked your thumb again, adopting the same gestures as the last time something like that happened, hoping that it'd work. You stared at him and noticed that his lustful, bothering look progressively switched to a terrorized one, the man flinching at every single of your movements. He swallowed thickly and looked down, hurriedly pressing on the button to open the door before jumping out of the vehicle and running like a mad man in the opposite direction. You chuckled and shook your head, starting your music again as if nothing happened.

You started to think that cracking your thumb would create a sort of shield or spray an "assaulter repellent" around you. Confessing this idea to your friends would make you look insane, so you stayed quiet, still puzzled about your power. The thing is you didn’t have a superpower. Well, you weren't a superhero, but you were one of the rare ones to be provided with a special ability. Cracking your thumb actually woke someone. Someone living in Hell. Before the birth of a person, there was a fight between a weak angel and a weak devil. Two people that didn’t achieve a lot of things in their past life or became criminals. Of course, criminals went to Hell and the others went to Heaven. The winner of the fight has to look after the newborn. But exceptional things sometimes happen.

One of Lucifer’s sons had to fight a beautiful angel, who accidentally died in a car crash. The mother of the future baby one of them had to protect was going into labour, so they had enough time to fight. But there was a problem. When Lucifer’s son saw the woman in front of him for the first time, he felt something in his chest, torturing him every time he thought about killing her. The angel didn’t understand why he was taking so long to fight. She frowned when she saw the devil shed a bloody tear in front of her.

“I can’t kill you,” he harshly muttered as his tear rolled down his neck and stained his shirt, disturbing the woman in front of him. “Why?” she said in a whisper and immediately put a hand on her mouth, noticing that her words made the devil whimper of pain even more. “Because... you are so... precious, so delicate, beautiful, nothing compared to the women in Hell. You’re… different and I can't corrupt you. I can't bring myself to kill you… Do you feel it?” “Feel what?” “This warmth in my chest, what is it? Please tell me what it is. You had emotions in your life, you can help me.” The woman’s eyes widened, and she started thinking, seeing the pregnant woman nearing the hospital. She needed to be quick. “I don’t know! Attraction, love, pity, desire, what could it be?” The devil looked at the woman and the bloody tear stain on his neck toned down at the mention of one of those words. “Repeat those again, slowly. I think it’s working.” The devil said through gritted teeth, clutching his chest. “Attraction… love… pity... desire?” she hesitantly said, spotting another stain shading off at the second word. She froze and took a step back. “Hold on. You love me?” she gasped as his neck came back to its original colour. “Is it what loves feel like?" the devil was worried, seeing the time run, "please tell me how it feels like.” “Hum… Love shouldn’t hurt but sometimes it does, and it will. It knows no limit, it-it doesn’t feel exhausting. It doesn’t need any of the 5 senses, it’s something that you feel in your heart. It’s when you put your lover before you. It's worrying if they are safe, healthy, and okay. I think it's knowing that they are better and more perfect people out there, but you still choose to love the ones you have. It's not a compromise, it's more like a choice.” The woman explained as the devil got closer to her, feeling a foreign feeling invading his senses. “That’s exactly how I feel about you." he heavily breathed, spotting the woman losing her composure. "You just described the thoughts that appear in my devilish brain when I look at you.” “But aren’t we supposed to fight and kill each other?” the woman's voice trembled, taking a step back, but that only made the devil step closer. “I can’t. It’d kill me too, I sense it,” he said before sealing their lips together.

Passion, love, and lust took over their bodies, forgetting their main duty as they were busy doing something else. The devil looked at the angelic face in front of him and pushed pieces of hair out of her face, capturing her lips again as she groaned. From this union was born a supernatural creature, a boy half-devil, half-angelic. He grew up at the same time as the new-born, who he was attributed to, his parents killed since they didn't accomplish their task. You were the new-born this angelic devil was assigned to and he was the reason for your constant luck and fortune. But you didn’t know that this parallel world existed, you just thought it was fate.

One night, you were doing your homework and mindlessly cracked both of your thumbs at the same time as you stretched your arms above your head while reading an article. You immediately stopped mid-air, scared that something bad might happen and you released your thumbs free. You feel your heart stop when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You froze on your spot in your chair and took a deep breath before slowly spinning your chair around. You turned on your desk light and turned it to illuminate your bed, gasping. A boy sat on your bed, curiously touching the fluffy material of your comforter. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the light, making eye contact with his piercing red eyes.

“Who… who are you?” your voice was doubtful as you didn’t know who this boy was and what was he doing in your dorm. Fortunately, you lived alone, because you couldn’t bring yourself to explain to your roommate that you invited someone over when it was clearly prohibited. “Me?” his voice surprised you, not expecting it to be this low. “I’m Hongjoong, the demon that takes care of you.” “The- demon? What? The fuck is this madness? Isn’t it supposed to be a guardian angel’s job? Am I cursed?” “Wow, wow, easy with the questions,” he replied as you sunk in your chair. “Don’t be afraid of me, I won’t hurt you. If you die I die too, so what’s the point of hurting you?” “You can feel when I’m in pain?” you asked, your mind blown at his words. “Yes I- ow!” he flinched as you purposefully punched your thigh. “what was that for?” “To see if you were lying.” You said and his eyes darkened. “Why would I- Stop! I’m already suffering enough, you’re so clumsy on the daily!” He stated as you pinched your forearm, slightly snickering.

“Oh really? I didn’t realise,” you shrugged, and he smirked, showing off some bruises on his body, pressing some and you winced, touching the same area on your body. “And the fact that I can walk around the streets in the middle of the night without getting attacked, is it also thanks to you?” he nodded, and you smiled, relieved that you weren’t going crazy. “Since my dad was a devil and my mom an angel, I can be both when you need it. Everything depends on the thumb you decide to crack to summon me. If you crack your left thumb, I'm a demon and if you crack your right thumb, obviously, I become an angel.” You attentively listened to the man in front of you instead of doing your homework, which was completely forgotten on the side. “You always mindlessly crack your right thumb when you’re doing a test, that’s why you correct your answers every time.”

“That’s insane that you can control my mind like that.” You passed a hand in your hair and he laughed, looking as harmless as possible. "I don’t control your mind, I just have a watchful eye on you, but you are also a very special human. I can list a lot of things you do without thinking that summon me," he grinned as you sheepishly smiled, red spreading on your cheeks. “My last question,” you said, a bit more hesitantly this time, “are you also the reason why I’m single? It’s getting pretty lonely down here on Earth,” you mumbled the end of your sentence and Hongjoong felt a pang in his chest. 

Why did you have to ask this question?

“Yes,” he admitted, and you sighed, starting to feel a bit mad. “But why?” you mumbled. “I wanna be happy, why do you prevent me from doing so?” “I don't,” he replied, raising his voice, “it’s not my fault if you go to the worst men in town! I protect you by stopping you from dating bad people!” “That’s bullshit!” you suddenly said, your mind going crazy. Nothing made sense and you started to have a headache. You were talking to a supernatural creature, not really sure if he existed or not. How could a demon protect you from people that were meant to be sent where he lived? What was happening? “It’s not nonsense, I'm only telling the truth!” he rambled, crossing his arms on his chest. You turned around and mumbled a small “selfish” before turning around and started reading again. You felt something in your chest area, but you didn’t know what it was.

“Hey, I’m right here and I can hear you,” he sighed, but you ignored him. You were really going crazy. You stared at the window and noticed that he was still here in the reflection, proving you that it wasn’t something you straight coming out of your imagination. “I can hear your thoughts, you’re not going crazy,” “Get out of my mind!” you said as you screamed in your head, Hongjoong flinching at the sudden noise. “Okay, okay, I’m out!” he said as he covered his ears. You stopped and he looked up at you, something changed in his eyes. “There’s also something I didn’t tell you,” he said, and you nodded, preparing yourself to hear something magical or supernatural. “I’m in love with you,” you dropped your pen at his words, eyebrows furrowing, “it was a lie, you were right. I did protect you from bad people in the past, but I prevented you from seeing anyone out of pure selfishness. I wanted you to meet me and fall in love with me, not with someone else.” 

That’s what you felt in your chest, his previous words were a lie. You knew that he was lying. You remained silent and started observing him, taking in his facial features. His almond eyes were beautiful, changing colours according to his emotions. When honesty and love appeared, they were light and brown, almost shining despite the darkness of your room. His skin was honey-like and looked as soft as whipped cream, his high nose bringing a soft feature on his face, making him look extremely pretty. He shyly smiled as you continued to stare at him and you smiled too, his beaming face making you fall harder for him. He looked so angelic when he showed happiness and love, his honest eyes almost sending hearts to you. However, he must be terrifying when he's mad, suddenly remembering the two frightened men that could have easily taken advantage of you if you were defenceless. 

“Is it possible for a human to date someone like you?” you questioned him, startling him as he was focused on trying to hear your thoughts. He cleared his throat and slowly nodded as if he was unsure about his answer. “I don’t know what will happen to me, but I think it’s possible.” “To you? Why would something happen to only you?” “Because I was assigned to you at your birth. I don’t know if they would consider it as a fail, but I might disappear." You nodded and cracked your right thumb, a sudden halo appearing above his head and you crawled on your bed next to him. He looked so angelic that you cooed, slowly tracing with your finger the details of his cheekbone. Your gesture made him shy and you grabbed his hand, swiftly drawing him closer and kissed his cheek. You deeply inhaled as you felt a warmth spreading in your chest.

“I guess it’s possible, right?” you asked, and he nodded, grabbing your middle and made you fall back on your bed. You circled your arms around your neck and deeply stared in his gorgeous eyes, his shining halo reflecting into his brown orbits. “Let’s make it happen, then,” he suggested and you eagerly nodded, earning a smile from the young man. He licked his lips and grabbed your chin, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. The softest you’ve ever felt in your life. It was feathery and filled with love, bringing you nothing but a smile on your face.

“I think I’m falling for you,” you admitted while giggling and Hongjoong’s face stretched with a smile, only to kiss you again. “Good thing, because I think I’m falling too.”

[creacherkeeper]

Catradora + A kiss for each year alive.

ao3

“Hey.”

Adora jumped, looking away from the window. Catra cut a sharp silhouette with the light from the hall behind her, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed and tail flicking.

Adora took a moment to drink in the way the dark suit fell against Catra’s body. She’d seen her in a suit before. A few times, now. But she never stopped enjoying it.

After a moment, Catra shifted away, crossing the unused bedroom towards Adora.

“You slipped away,” she murmured, stopping a few feet away from the window seat Adora had draped herself into. She tilted her head, giving her a considering look. “It’s been a while. Thought I’d come find you before Sparkles got it in her head to.”

“Thanks,” Adora said, shooting her the best smile she could muster. “Just got a little overwhelmed.”

Even from this far away, tucked in a disused hall in the far end of the castle, Adora could hear the distant call of thumping music and shouting voices.

Catra quirked a grin. “Ragers not really your thing?”

A small laugh pulled from her chest. “Not really.”

The grin dropped as Catra continued to look at her. Self-consciously, Adora wiped away her fallen tears.

“If you want, I can go back and tell them you got too drunk and I had to take you to bed.”

“What,” Adora asked, bottom lip trembling traitorously, “I’m not allowed to bail on my birthday?”

Catra blew out a dramatic sigh, considering, as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Well … I’ll allow it.” She shot Adora a sly look. “With some convincing.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Now, Glimmer, on the other hand …” Catra shook her head, ignoring Adora’s comment. “I’m not sure we can go at that straight on. There may need to be a heist of some sort involved.”

“Oh, a heist. You’ve always loved a good heist.”

“Ignoble. Dramatic. Classy. Roguish. What’s not to love?” She smirked briefly, but the expression soon found its way back to concerned. Her tail flicked behind her, smooth then sharp, smooth then sharp. “The offer stands, though,” she continued, dropping her voice, “if you want me to tell them you’re not coming back.”

Adora pulled a breath through her nose, her eyes going blurry with tears. She bit her tongue against them, and they didn’t fall. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

Catra was quiet for a long few moments. Then, she lifted her foot to tap against the base of the window seat.

“Mind if I join you?”

Adora swallowed. She wiped at her eyes, teeth still held fast around her tongue, but she did scoot over until there was room.

Catra sat opposite her, her legs stretching out parallel to Adora’s. She turned for a while to look out the window, up at the stars that peppered the dark sky. When Adora didn’t speak, merely watched with her, Catra finally dropped her hand to Adora’s leg and squeezed.

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“No,” Adora quickly responded.

Catra clicked her tongue. “See, that wasn’t supposed to be your answer. You’re supposed to reward me for being so considerate by telling me what’s going on.”

She knew it was a joke, even if a half-hearted one. It was meant to be funny, teasing at worst. Still, Adora couldn’t help the bitter words that drew out of her.

“Well, life doesn’t always go how you expect.”

Catra’s brows furrowed. She watched her steadily, then blew out a breath.

“Well, that’s maybe something to unpack.”

Adora shook her head, arms wrapping around her stomach. “It’s stupid. Forget I said anything.”

Catra’s foot knocked against her side.

“Is this about your birthday?”

“No, I’m just sitting in a guest room crying by myself and staring at the stars and it’s not related to the fact that all of my friends and loved ones are celebrating my birthday downstairs.”

Catra hummed. “That makes sense. It was stupid I thought they were related. Well, if there is anything bothering you, you’re just going to have to come out and say it, because clearly, I can’t put it together by myself. I haven’t reached the ‘Adora mind-reading powers’ level of my therapy sessions yet. Those come with powers, right? That’s why I’m doing those?”

Adora huffed a laugh, wiping away some of her tears. “I’m sorry. I’m being such an ass.”

“A bit. Not a pretty look on you, princess.”

Adora laughed again, letting her head fall against the window. Her expression dropped, and she reached up to wipe her face again.

“So, are you actually going to tell me what’s wrong? Or are we just going to sit here looking gloomy for the rest of the night?”

Adora shrugged, her gaze turning back out the window. “It’s nothing. It’s not even worth it.”

A sharp pinch.

Adora yelped.

“Catra!”

Catra’s lips quirked as she smoothed over the red skin of Adora’s leg with her thumb.

“Every time you say something real dumb, you get pinched. You want to try again?”

“You can’t have learned that from Perfuma.”

“Oh, absolutely not. This would horrify her. Unfortunately for you, Perfuma is drunk off her ass and was making out with Scorpia, last I checked. Which means it’s just you and me.” Her thumb circled again, with just a bit of nail, this time. “So, you want to try that again?”

Adora shook her head, a hint of a smile on her lips. “Dick.”

“I’m waiting.”

Adora swallowed, her eyes falling closed. The glass was cool against the side of her head, grounding her. She circled her arms around herself tighter, chin dimpling as she tried to say what needed to be said.

“Do you ever feel like …” Her throat tightened, and she had to take a breath before she could continue. “Do you ever feel like- like maybe, you’re just … not supposed to be here?”

Catra was quiet for a moment, but her thumb continued to stroke irritated skin.

“Pretty often,” she admitted softly. “It’s better, now. But … this castle. These friends. Roaming space and spreading magic. It’s not how I thought my life would turn out.”

Adora felt her throat go hot as tears trickled down her cheeks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

The thumb stopped.

“What did you mean, then?”

“Do you ever—” An inhale—quick, wet. “-feel like you not supposed to be here? Like, at all. Like, just—” Her hands rose and waved in the air, a short slice.

“Adora.”

“I’m 21 today.” Her eyes finally opened, and even through the wet, she could see Catra’s quiet worry. “And I really never thought that- I didn’t think I would make it this far. I really- I never- And now what? Now I’m- I’m here, and … what for? What’s the- the purpose of me now? The war is over, everyone’s safe, there’s no more fight, and I’m just … still …” She shrugged. “Here.”

She blinked, and the held tears escaped from her eyes. She could see, clearly now, that Catra’s eyes had flooded with their own.

“Why would you be anywhere else?”

Adora sighed, a short breath through her nose. She looked down, eyebrows scrunching.

“I just … I didn’t plan for this. I never accounted for … just … I don’t know. This. Just living, like this, and everything that means. I never … I don’t know what to do with that.”

“Do you—” Catra shifted, not looking at her. “-wish that you weren’t? Here, still.”

“I didn’t—” Adora shook her head, wiping under her eyes. “I didn’t say that.”

Catra sighed, leaning her head against the wall behind her. “Okay.”

“I’m not … Today just brought up a lot of weird feelings, that’s all. I’m just a little confused. I’m not going to do anything.”

Catra nodded, staring at the cross of Adora’s arms over her stomach.

“It wasn’t …” Catra had to stop, clearing her throat. “It wasn’t about the fighting all the time, right? I know we were raised with the war, but … There were a lot of times in there where … where you were just Adora. And those times were just as important.”

Adora’s stomach twisted. She moved her head in a nod. “Yeah. But it’s … hard to remember that, sometimes.”

“Well. Maybe you need a reminder.”

She stared at Catra as mismatched eyes slid to hers. Catra waited two heartbeats, four, before she began to move. She curled forward and crawled into Adora’s lap, staring down at her as she settled heavily onto Adora’s legs. Adora stared up at her, brows furrowed.

Catra’s hands rose, settling on each of her cheeks. Her thumbs stroked the tears away as she leaned, ever so slowly, to place a kiss against Adora’s lips.

“One,” she murmured.

“Catra?”

Their lips met again, warm and slow. Adora uncrossed her arms to rest her hands on Catra’s thighs.

Catra pulled back, but didn’t go far. “Two.”

“What are you doing?”

Another kiss, chaste, gone before Adora could question it. “Three.”

This time, Adora kept her mouth shut.

And then, once more.

“Four,” Catra said. “The year we met.”

Adora was quiet, looking up at her as Catra slowly stroked across her cheekbones.

“You gave me a name,” Catra breathed, voice wet. “I might’ve had one, before, but even I don’t remember it. It’s … It’s the kind of name a four-year-old would give someone, but you were the only one who bothered to. And despite everything, it stuck.”

“Catra …”

Catra leaned in and kissed her.

“Five. I said my first word. You were so excited, you ran around telling everyone. But when Octavia asked you what it was, you wouldn’t say, because you didn’t want to get in trouble.”

Adora hiccupped a laugh, tears spilling. “You picked it up from the older cadets. Only you’d have a swear as your first word.”

A kiss. “Six. You told me a joke when I was sick, and I laughed so hard I threw up.”

“I don’t even remember what it was,” Adora admitted. “It was probably really dumb.”

A kiss, pressed against the corner of her mouth.

“Seven. We played our first prank on Kyle. We put tape in the bottom of his shoes, and he couldn’t get them off.”

A kiss against her wet cheek.

“Eight. We got in our first fight. A real one. I felt like the world was ending.”

Adora swallowed. “Me too.”

A kiss against her forehead.

“Nine. We found a stash of Shadow Weaver’s wine while we were on kitchen duty, and it was the most disgusting thing we’d ever tasted. We swore we’d never touch it again as long as we lived.”

Against her closed eyelid.

“Ten. Lonnie tried to kiss you, and I punched her in the mouth. You got mad at me, but afterwards you told me you didn’t understand the whole kissing thing anyway.”

“It sounded gross,” Adora said, laughing at the irony.

A kiss on the bridge of her nose.

“Eleven. We decided we were going to stay together forever, no matter what.”

Adora’s face fell. She reached a hand up and wrapped her fingers around Catra’s wrist.

Catra knocked their noses together. She let their foreheads meet as she let out a breath.

Then, another kiss, gentle, against her lips.

“Twelve. We stayed up all night talking. Rogelio asked you if you liked boys, and you told him you didn’t know. But, that night, you told me you knew the answer. I never slept in my own bunk after that.”

Adora blinked her eyes open. “That’s when you decided to sleep in mine?”

“You’re so dumb.”

“I am,” she said.

She squeezed Catra’s wrist as she leaned forward and kissed her.

“Thirteen,” Adora said. “Shadow Weaver got mad at me and you yelled at her in front of everyone.”

Catra kissed her back.

“Fourteen,” she said. “You broke your wrist trying to do a flip.”

Two kisses in quick succession.

“Fifteen,” Adora said, “we found out what ‘I love you’ meant. Sixteen, we said it for the first time.” A kiss. “Seventeen. I learned how to drive a skiff and immediately crashed it.”

Catra chuckled. “The first thing you weren’t instantly good at.”

A kiss.

“Eighteen.” Adora swallowed. “I … found the sword.”

Catra hummed, shaking her head. “Eighteen. You found Bow and Glimmer.”

“Right. Eighteen … I befriended Bow and Glimmer.”

Catra hummed against her lips as she kissed her, but when she pulled away, she didn’t speak.

“Nineteen,” Adora whispered. “I, um … I got drunk and made out with Huntara a little bit.”

“Oh?”

“Just a little.”

A breathy chuckle pulled from Catra’s chest. “Should I be jealous?”

“No,” Adora said. She leaned forward and let their lips meet, and for a long time, she didn’t pull away. Catra was heavy against her legs, and Adora still had a hand wrapped around her wrist. She moved her other hand up to slip inside of Catra’s suit jacket, resting on her waist. Her fingers clenched against the silky material of her button-up, and Catra’s chest rumbled in a purr. 

Finally, she pulled away. Catra took a breath.

Adora looked up at her through her lashes. She didn’t know how she’d gotten here, how she’d gotten so lucky.

“Twenty,” she said, leaning into the hand against her cheek. “We found each other.”

A smile pulled at the corner of Catra’s lips. “Yeah. We did.”

Adora let out a sigh as she closed her eyes, relishing in the warmth of Catra’s hands against her.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You forgot one,” Catra whispered back. Her weight shifted as she leaned forward to place a kiss, soft and reverent, against Adora’s forehead. She pulled back, letting their heads rest together. “Twenty-one. You’re safe, surrounded by and celebrated by the people who love you most in the world. You have a whole life ahead of you, filled with endless possibilities, and endless people ready to support you on whatever path you take. You have two best friends who, while idiots, always have your best at heart. And you have a girlfriend who would do anything at all just to see you smile. You have a good head on your shoulders, the body of a goddess, and enough ambition to fill this whole castle and then some. You have all the possibilities in the world, Adora. And now you get to choose.”

Adora took a moment to sit and breathe. Catra wiped each tear away as it fell.

“Do I have to choose today?”

“Not today,” Catra murmured. “Today, you get to celebrate with your friends, eat as much cake as you can stomach, and try not to trip over your own feet in front of all our guests. Oh, but you have to pretend to like all your presents. I asked around. Most of them are pretty bad.”

Adora huffed a laugh, opening her eyes to stare at the softly squinting mismatched set looking back.

“Hey.” Catra tilted her head with just a hint of a smile. “You know you’re gonna be okay, right?”

Adora watched her. Her own mouth was beginning to climb upwards at the ends.She wasn’t even able to help it. 

“Yeah,” she said. “I do.” 

[timeagainreviews]

Twin Peaks s01e01 “Traces to Nowhere”

Happy New Year, and welcome back to Twin Peaks, friends. Before we dive further into the mystery of Laura Palmer, I would like to tell you about my friend Jason. Jason was a pal of mine in high school. We used to hang out, listen to music, watch TV, and smoke. He lived with his girlfriend at the time who was also my friend. This may sound sappy, but around these two, I genuinely felt like the best version of myself. I miss those days incredibly. Jason also happened to be the first person to ever introduce me to Twin Peaks. One night, he and a friend were watching the movie as I came over to buy a bag. On that day, I discovered what was to become my newest obsession, one of which would stick with me for the next eighteen years of my life. Sadly, Jason and I fell out of contact and we lost track of one another.

I mention this because I recently heard through a mutual friend that Jason died two years ago. I'll not go into the details, suffice it to say, it was too soon. I always wanted to track him down to say hello, and now I'll never get the chance. While my friendship with Jason was immensely rewarding, one of the most persistent things he left me with was a love for Twin Peaks. Much of my personal philosophy comes from Twin Peaks, and it continues to inform the person I am today. If it weren't for Jason, I wouldn't be me. Therefore, I would like to dedicate this article in his memory. To Jason Walton- My friend in the stars.

Thank you for allowing me that moment, friend. Now if you remember, we left off on kind of a spooky note. Through some sort of line of sight, Sarah Palmer was given a vision of a gloved hand retrieving James' half of the heart necklace from where he and Donna had buried it. Dale Cooper, after a long day of detection, has turned in for a night of sleep at the Great Northern hotel, which is exactly where today's episode begins.

I've read in the past that you can tell right away when David Lynch is directing, or in this case, when he isn't directing. This is not a complaint about director Duwayne Dunham's work, but there is a clear departure from the slow wave of emotions that permeates the pilot episode. However, the more straightforward procedural pacing works much to the episode's credit. Being written by David Lynch and Mark Frost, this episode is drenched in Twin Peaks tones and textures. I'd go as far as to say Dunham does a damn fine job following the hard act that is David Lynch.

We start with a pan across Cooper's hotel room. As I've done with my Doctor Who reviews, I found myself trying to see this scene as though it were my first time. You watch Twin Peaks for eighteen years, and you tend to forget just how strange the decor at the Great Northern truly is. Off-camera we can hear Agent Cooper talking to Diane through his recorder. As the camera searches across taxidermied deer hooves holding hunting riffles, and ornate nature paintings, we fall upon Cooper, hanging upside down by a pair of metal hooks around his ankles. It's never explained why he's doing this, but for some reason the late '80s and early '90s had a weird thing about hanging guys upside down as so form of exercise. Michael Keaton did it in Batman, Patrick Bateman had one, and even Dale Cooper. Perhaps it was quick way to indicate both athleticism and eccentricity.

Cooper, hanging about in his hot dad garters and boxers dismounts from his perch with an ease that is both impressive and sexy. Before ending his recording session with Diane, Cooper waxes philosophical about Marilyn Monroe and the Kennedys. In a way, this is Lynch and Frost drawing parallels between the deaths of both Monroe and Laura- two blonde women surrounded by powerful men and mystery. It's fitting when you consider that Lynch and Frost's first collaboration was in the form of a Marilyn Monroe biopic which never came into fruition. In many ways, the project laid some of the groundwork for what would become Twin Peaks.

Starting his day right with a balanced hotel breakfast, we're treated to yet another fascinating glimpse into Cooper's diet. As Sheriff Truman says later in the episode, he must have the metabolism of a bumblebee. Cooper orders a breakfast he refers to as "hard on the arteries," which is as hard as he wants his eggs. He wants his bacon super crispy- cremated. It may sound as though I'm exaggerating, but I've always loved watching Cooper order breakfast. He seems to revere food in a way not regularly seen on dramatic television. The morning coffee is more than one of the best, it's "damn fine." People have complained that the way people talk about food in Twin Peaks is weird. Sure, maybe in life creamed corn isn't an allegory to pain and suffering, but we've all been there when someone is having a similar reaction to the stuff. Food is personal, and it's a part of everyone's lives, why wouldn't characters talk about it?

Arriving at the tail end of Cooper's order is Audrey Horne, who has seemingly grown a good six or seven inches of hair overnight. Out of all of the mysteries in Twin Peaks, this was the least perplexing. Somewhere between filming the pilot and the first episode, Sherilyn Fenn grew her hair out, and it looks stunning. Everything about Audrey is stunning. Her eyebrows are stunning. That sweater is stunning. But at the moment, it is she who is stunned by Agent Cooper. Just as charmed by his eccentricities and his slicked black hair, she approaches Agent Cooper and asks to join him. Immediately Cooper sizes up that she finds him attractive, she's not exactly hiding it, and neither is he for that matter. For many fans, this is the moment the ship of Cooper and Audrey set sail. I personally always prefer the version where Cooper does the adult thing and doesn't date a high schooler.

After questioning Audrey, Cooper heads off to the Sheriff Station where they seem to still be having their breakfast as everyone he encounters has a mouthful of donuts. I'd also like to note the weird guy with a welding torch and ladder near the entrance. Twin Peaks is a lived in world filled with these people toiling away. Sheriff Harry Truman, mouth full of donuts, can't get a word in as Cooper flies into the room. After spelling out the itinerary, Cooper disappears to "urinate." This marks the first of many references to Dale Cooper's pee. Much like Tom Hanks, our favourite FBI agent is passionate about pissing. It's one of those life things, like food, that Twin Peaks likes to celebrate. Sometimes it's really nice to have a good piss, therefore sometimes Twin Peaks is about having a really good piss. I'm being completely earnest here.

Dr Hayward arrives to the sheriff station to report the findings of the post mortem. Unable to carry out the procedure himself, he outsourced the job to a nearby colleague. I've always admired the way Warren Frost plays this scene. His sadness seems to come and go in waves of realisation. There are the same echos from the pilot episode present here. From the report we learn that Laura died from a loss of blood from numerous shallow wounds. She had bite marks on her shoulders and marks on her arms from having been bound. She had also had sex with at least three men the night of her murder. The doctor also concludes that there is no doubt that Ronette was also present. As Dr Hayward relays this grizzly tale, his eyes wander to the photo of Laura. Pangs of sadness wash over his face as he questions who could do such a thing. He was the doctor present at her birth. She was his daughter's best friend. Laura was family to him.

On the other spectrum of family, we join the Johnsons at their incomplete home. Unable to just ask Shelly if she would do his laundry, Leo has to play mind games. He asks her if she did his laundry and chastises her as if catching her in a lie because his bag of nasty truck cabin clothes are still dirty. Eric Da Re is not a great actor, but there's something perfect about that. Leo is a big asshole that gaslights his wife, I don't expect much depth there. The only good thing I say about him is they got rid of his awful perm from the pilot. Even the way he pinches her cheek is controlling and unnatural. There's clearly no love between them, which is why when she discovers a blood-stained shirt in Leo's laundry she hides it. With Laura recently dead, and his behaviour as of late, this could be evidence. When he comes back later in a frenzy to find said shirt, he flies into a rage at its absence.

We're back at the Sheriff Station where we learn James Hurley owned the other half of Laura's necklace. As compared to Bobby's interrogation, James is Mr Manners. He answers all of Agent Cooper's questions with a quiet intensity. He admits to shooting the picnic video, and to owning the other half of the necklace, but not knowing who dug it up. He was also aware Laura was taking drugs but tried to get her to stop. On the night she died, James picked Laura up on his motorcycle. Acting strangely Laura disembarked from his bike, a disagreement ensued, Laura told James she loved him and disappeared into the woods. Cooper seems pleased with this information. We're then shown slow-motion picnic footage of Laura smiling at the camera. A somewhat cheesy "Help me," is played over the sound of wind and haunting music. It's a sort of fourth-wall-breaking that makes Twin Peaks feel as though not only the town, but the show itself is haunted by the late Laura Palmer.

Bobby and Mike, freshly arrested from their fistfight with Ed argue in their holding cells about the money they owe Leo Johnson. After being briefly questioned by Agent Cooper, they're both sent away with a warning not to harm James. James is also released into the custody of Big Ed, who confides that he believes the bartender, Jacques Renault,  slipped a Mickey in his drink. Ed wasn't just meeting Norma that night, he was also staking out Jacques' activities as a suspected drug dealer.

Speaking of Norma, we're given a brief but intense encounter at the general store between her and Nadine. At this point in the show, Nadine is completely bonkers. While I don't feel like she becomes any less touched in the head, we do begin to see more depth to her than just Ed's crazy wife. Wendie Robie is so good as Nadine, that Peggy Lipton only really need to react in kind as Nadine goes on about her drape runners. You can tell there's a quiet rivalry between the two women, both of whom resent one another for what they represent to one another. Norma is the woman Ed loves, and Nadine is the woman that stole him from Norma. When Nadine emphatically mentions the cotton balls that will make her drape runners completely silent, Norma can only stand as if in disbelief. It's the epitome of "weird flex, but ok." It doesn't help that all of this cotton ball talk is nestled into a conversation about Ed being in intensive care. Nadine exits as soon as she entered, leaving poor Norma looking confused and slightly violated.

Speaking of forbidden love, we're given a great scene between Donna Hayward and her mother, Eileen. We learn that despite her grief for Laura, and the guilt it makes her feel, Donna is finding herself loving James. Despite the nightmare that surrounds her, this love for James is like a beautiful dream. Eileen encourages her to invite James over for dinner, which she does. When watching James meet the Haywards I couldn't help but think of Eraserhead. In both, we get two entirely different, albeit very Lynchian "meet the parents," scenes. While James isn't asked to carve any manmade chickens, the awkward politeness permeates both scenes. There’s a sort of wholesomeness that borders on absurdity. Watching James make small talk in his big boy sweater is about the cutest damn thing that you almost forget how violent and terrifying Twin Peaks can be at times. This is something lifted straight out of the Waltons with it's cheesy Americana and good-natured sincerity. Of course, not everyone is as pleased about this new pairing as Mike and Bobby spot James' bike outside Donna's house.

Meanwhile, Dale and Harry find their way at the Martel residence to speak with Josie about her language classes with Laura. Through body language alone, Cooper deduces that the Sheriff and Josie are an item of sorts, as indicated at the end of the pilot episode. Pete is his usual charming self, offering up a cup of Joe to our boys. We're given another Cooperism as he asks for his coffee "black as midnight on a moonless night." That's pure poetry. We don't learn much from Josie here, other than the fact that Laura used to tutor her English and that she seemed distracted the last time they met. The biggest takeaway from the scene is that somehow Pete accidentally brewed a pot of coffee with a fish in the percolator. This is easily one of the most iconic scenes from the original series. Jack Nance was a treasure, and I will never not feel absolute delight when he comes rushing in just a touch too late- they've already tried the coffee.

Josie is called away for a phone call from the ice queen Catherine who informs her that shutting down the mill for the day cost the company more money than it was worth. After hanging up with Josie, we can see Catherine is in a strange motel, sipping champagne with Ben Horne. They're clearly working against Josie, but it's no secret that neither of them trust one another. Everyone is playing the double secret con, and it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. However, we do learn that the two are on again off again lovers. On the other side of town, Deputy Hawk follows up with Ronette's parents at the hospital. The Pulaskis don't have much information other than the fact that Ronette used to work the perfume counter at Horne's Department Store. As he is leaving, Hawk sees a suspicious one armed man skulking around the morgue. Following his gut instinct he starts tailing this mysterious figure through the dark halls of the hospital. Upon entering a room alight in a trippy dayglo black light, Hawk finds himself alone. Whoever this mystery man was, he disappeared into thin air.

A lot of this episode's theme seems to centre around the relationship between the parents and the high schoolers. Along with her conversation with her own mother, we get a scene between Donna and Sarah Palmer. Sarah, still sick with grief, seems genuinely pleased to see Donna until she sees Laura's face superimposed over Donna's. As she's pulling her closer she gets another vision, this time of a creepy grey-haired man sitting at the edge of Laura's bed. Sarah goes into full-on panic mode in a way only Grace Zabriskie is capable of delivering. Leland rushes in to whisk Donna away from the traumatic experience. In his own home, Bobby is getting a stern lecture from his father, Major Garland Briggs. The Major awkwardly tries to treat Bobby with some tough love, but ultimately misses the mark. Bobby's problems are bigger than anything his poor parents could fathom. The Hornes also experience a bit of domestic turmoil with Ben confronts Audrey about how her conversation with the Norwegians cost their family greatly. But unlike the Briggses, if Ben wanted to understand Audrey's rebellious nature, he only need look in the mirror.

Let's take a moment now to consider Laura Palmer. She was a troubled teenage girl with a drug habit, yes. Add to that being homecoming queen, in Spanish club, tutoring immigrants, caring for Audrey's special needs brother, and even heading Meals on Wheels for the elderly and shut-ins. It's the Meals on Wheels program that brings Cooper and Truman to the Double R Diner, where Laura used to work. We learn that Laura didn't just head the program, she created it. If any fictional characters were gunning for sainthood, Laura would be high on the list. It's easy to see why losing her has wounded the town so completely. The Log Lady approaches Cooper about Laura Palmer informing him that her log saw something the night Laura died. However, Cooper's reluctance to ask the log directly leads to her leaving before relaying the log's message.

Fresh off her shift from the Double R, Shelly returns home to Leo who has just put a bar of soap into a sock. He questions her about the bloody shirt, but she feigns ignorance. He tells her he's going to "teach," her about respecting people's property as he advances toward her with the sock swinging over his head. We can only look on hopelessly as the brutish Leo approaches a cowering Shelly. The scene graciously cuts away, as we know what comes next. The episode concludes in Dr Jacoby's bizarre Hawaii themed office (or maybe apartment, maybe both). Inside a fishtank sits three dried out puffer fish filled with blinking lights like paper lamps. After putting a tape into his stereo he dons a pair of giant headphones revealing a taped conversation from his former secret patient- Laura Palmer. He pulls coconut from a palm tree and settles in to listen to his tape. He opens up the coconut to reveal the other half of Laura's necklace. It appears that Dr Jacoby was the one following James and Donna into the woods.

The contents of the recording are revealing, not just about Laura, but also about Dr Jacoby. Laura's flirtatious nature indicates that we can add one more sexual partner to Laura's list. She mentions how James is sweet but too dumb to talk to her about her problems like Jacoby is capable of doing. But part of the brilliance in the scene is that you can also sense that Laura is acting for Dr Jacoby. Fulfilling the role of a young helpless girl who loves him, so that he may fulfil some role she needs. Whether it be a form of protection or just a soundboard for her problems, she had him wrapped around her finger. So what is this ritual of Jacoby's? Are these the actions of a killer reminiscing over the trophies of his hunt, or a man grieving the real, if not inappropriate relationship he had with a young girl? As the tape continues, we hear Laura talking about a man in a red car who can really light her "F-I-R-E." She continues to make a confession about a mystery man, but the audio drops out, leaving us only the doctor's perplexed face to clue us into what she said. The credits roll as we're left wondering.

Truth be told, I could have written this review without having to rewatch the episode. I try and rewatch Twin Peaks in its entirety at least once every one or two years. However, I am glad I did revisit this one as there are lots of little pieces of minutiae I may have overlooked. More than anything, I was curious to weigh Dunham's directing against David Lynch's, and I have to say, it's not bad. The tone is correct for the series and the emotions are played for real. It's always going to be different because the two directors are different people. But as certain episodes in season two prove, some directors begin to parody Lynch's style, adding weird for the sake of weird. But this early on, it is as though Twin Peaks is a juggernaut of unstoppable creativity. Even the duller storylines take on the energy of the greater mystery. Lynch only directed a handful of the original series episodes, which is why the next episode I'm reviewing is an especially exciting one. Not only is episode two (aka the third episode) directed by David Lynch, but it also begins to introduce some of the more metaphysical elements of the series. You could almost say that Lynch directs the most important episodes, and my god is this next one a doozy.

Well, friends, that's all from the world of Twin Peaks for now. I'll have the next review up soonish, but not before the new Doctor Who review. Speaking of which, it is now less than an hour until it airs! Who else is excited? What a great way to ring in the new year! See you all soon!

[bladekindeyewear]

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 10 - Candy Part 1 again

I was told that finishing the epilogue MAY make me feel better by some with opinions, with some vague hints that the ridiculous start of Candy may have underlying reasons, so now that I’m awake again (though my stomach is roiling a bit again) I’m gonna take another crack at it.

Alright, so I was also hinted that this Candy part ends with a different cliffhanger, so maybe those two will cancel out?  That’s my hope anyway.

Reading page 1 again since I didn’t finish the very tail end of it... alright, so WHY IS ROXY CRYING again????  Was she just PRETENDING that she didn’t know it might turn out bad for John if he went at the end of the last one?  Was there some weird mind-rewriting going on?  Is the crying a symptom of this whole thing potentially being an our!Callie fanfic and she knows what’s being dodged??  Don’t know.

Alright, let’s have him save Gamzee and... is Vriska going to get saved in this version?  Or is that descent into the black hole without seeing what happens her well-deserved comeuppance while only the ghost version of Vriska truly figured out how to be happy?

==>

Dirk acknowledges him when he zaps back, but it’s YOUNG Dirk so hopefully there isn’t any stupid Meat stuff going on.

...Yeah, Gamzee immediately being repentant is weird as shit.  Maybe he Chucklevoodoo’d Callie into escaping him into this whole candied mess so he could start shit, I dunno.  That or this isn’t really Gamzee or someone’s manipulating him or etc etc etc.  The hint I got earlier was that if I thought Calliope wanting to bring Gamzee back and everyone just rolling with it was a little out of character, there are “reasons”, so I’m just going through all of this under the assumption that some emotion-manipulating weirdness is going on regardless.

Oh shit, Gamzee’s going to start recounting his character reasons for doing bad stuff in a surface-hope of justification and understanding.  All the characters immediately recognize how painfully groanworthy this is going to be.

GAMZEE: AnD sUcH iS wHy I’m GrAbBiNg HoLd Of My RePeNtAnCe As FiRm AnD sErIoUs As I wOuLd A wHoRe’S tItTy!

Yeah, that really encapsulates how “serious” all of this is.  And of course, John’s not having any of it.

Yeah, Terezi wouldn’t have any of it either, remotely.

Something feels different, but he can’t put his finger on it.

Hm.  The aforementioned manipulation-weirdness?

==>

Okay, so it’s kind of Dirk who notices something different and is cancelling his stupid villain plans, got it.

Volatility of causality, huh?

(I’m going to be going through these parts a little faster than the Meat section, unsurprisingly.)

==>

Okay, Rose and Kanaya, are we gonna cure her substance abuse or--

With all the distance between them lately,

God damnit, have Dirk’s manipulations extended that far OFFSCREEN or is this legitimate character distancing???? Because either is BAD.  >:(

Right, now that the plot and “relevance” has been sidelined over to a different timeline, Rose can now breathe easy free of her condition.  And whichever parts of her condition were, perhaps, IMPOSED on her.  Fuck.

I’m going to try my fucking best to cling to this, hope I can carry on a memory after this is over that DOESN’T imagine Rose trapped in a fucking existential dying villain coma with a hard fucking cutoff that promises nothing is ever coming to resolve it ever.  (Or Jade in a somewhat-similar sidelined situation, or Jane doomed to fuck herself over and everyone else too, or...)

What’s slipping away instead is the feeling that any of it mattered at all. Was she insane to be so consumed by such lofty concerns, and is she only beginning to experience clarity today, for the first time in ages?

Yeah, you’re no longer in a timeline of Light and relevance.  And that’s not so bad, which is something you never expected to be true given your derision of the concept.  Void is pretty goddamn alright.

--Oh right, the illness and substance abuse probably caused plenty of distance between them.

KANAYA: There Was A Feeling I Couldnt Shake That Something Terrible Was Going To Happen To Us KANAYA: Something That Neither Of Us Could Stop KANAYA: A Powerful Outside Force That Would Take You Away From Me KANAYA: And I Couldnt Stop Myself From Thinking That Maybe KANAYA: Maybe That It Would Be For The Best ROSE: Kanaya... KANAYA: I Can Now See That This Is Completely Ridiculous

For some reason, this doesn’t settle my stomach much?  It’s clear Andrew wove this in here so that if you read Meat first, you’d be able to acknowledge readily how this diverged in a way the characters kind of recognize, and... I’m not sure what I’m even saying.  It’s like there’s hope that this is TRYING to take the bad taste out of my mouth, but I don’t believe it overly much.

ROSE: What a relief, considering that we are both going to be young and magically fit literally forever.

Wait, so they DID find a way to extend their non-ascended friends’ lifespans to practical immortality?  Jane’s Life powers?  Something else?

==>

yay jade.  more extended dave metaphors.  calm down stomach.

JADE: i never thought id be thinking of you as my weird nerd friend by the time we were in our twenties

Heheheh.

DAVE: yeah well i never thought youd be like the premiere woo girl on the planet

Had to look up what a “woo girl” was.

Yes Jade go flirt them to death

What she’s planning isn’t a seduction. It’s a public service.

Pff

(And yeah, she’s being pushy but at least she doesn’t go DIRK FAR about it.)

DAVE: its incredible hes driven at least ten people off the site by creating thinly veiled parody accounts of their usernames

Oh my gosh, Karkat’s good enough to ANDREW HUSSIE them?!???  :D

That’s incredible.

Karkat knows damned well what a husband is. He’s been force-fed enough bad movies from Dave to pick up any human euphemism you could name. He still plays dumb sometimes, for comedic effect, to irritate his friends, or simply to avoid a topic of conversation altogether.

Yeah, it was always pretty clear that about HALF of the trolls pretended not to understand something human that they knew about just for comedic effect and they knew it.  :)

It would be pretty easy to mistake his reaction for arousal, so it’s understandable that Jade is extremely surprised when Karkat snaps his jaw shut and chomps down on her hand.

PFFFFHahahahah :D

And yep, Jane cancelled her run at Dirk’s direction.

DAVE: lets all just thank whichever christ was responsible for making whatever decision resulted in her deciding not to do that

*nod nod*

JADE: well i hope she gets a better hobby JADE: there are a lot of less ominous things she could do with her time KARKAT: WHAT, LIKE FUCKING HER WAY THROUGH HALF THE POPULATION OF EARTH C?

Jade pinches his ear and twists hard, smiling pleasantly.

JADE: get fucked karkat

Yeah, this is about the level of violence/threat I’d expect from Jade when anyone slut-shames her for perfectly acceptable behavior.

==>

There is almost no crime on Earth C, and so almost no one locks their door.

Huh.  I guess post-scarcity might do that.

Alright, we get to see Jane being less of a fuckass.

Dirk was the one person on Earth C who took the state of the locksmith industry with the seriousness it deserved.

Pffff

JAKE: Thats my theory at least. Maybe its tommyrot but i have faith that dirk will be back. After all where is he going to go?

Good question that wasn’t answered in Meat, so of course Jake says it here obliviously.

JAKE: I must admit i am rather half rats at the moment. JANE: You’re what? JAKE: Haha sorry that was a pretty obtuse way of putting it wasnt it. JAKE: What i mean to say is that ive been powdering my hair quite a bit today.

Andrew is SO good at making Jake sound completely incomprehensible.

...Ouch, Jane, don’t drink so hard! D:

The “morbs”??

JAKE: Dirk has that manner about him does he not? JAKE: A way about him that makes you feel like whatever you do as long as it does not involve him it doesnt count for dick.

Yeah, fuck Dirk.

Hm... is the absence of relevance affecting them, or some other manipulation? It’s not just the LACK of Dirk’s manipulation.

JAKE: Except of course for that time when you were under mind control and had me trussed up in your lair as you pontificated villainously about using me as a breeding stud to create a blood lineage for your incumbent corporate space empire.

A fate Dirk seems to agree with, judging by Meat.  Let’s sidestep that fucking entirely, thank you.

...yeah, I didn’t expect Jake’s response to be any less oblivious than exactly that.

==>

So why DID Callie bring Gamzee back, anyway?  Is there some secret use for him in mind?  Was she manipulated into it?  Maybe BY Gamzee?  Hm.

...alright, priestly with followings.  That ain’t good.  Is he aiming for Clown President MK2?

Everything Callie and Roxy have done and said in this Candy section so far seems creepily contrived, possibly by design.

...okay did they have some kind of weird agreement? Like, “okay John is gonna make his choice, and if he chooses to stay i try dating him instead of you, Callie”???  That’s... no that can’t be it.  Roxy’s NEVER acted THIS oblivious before.  What’s she playing at?

GAMZEE: mY fUcKiN *gUy*. :o) JOHN: ... GAMZEE: My DuDe AnD mY nInJa AlIkE. GAMZEE: mY *hOrN* dOoOoG. JOHN: ... GAMZEE: mY hOrN tO tHa MoThErFuCkIn DoG. ;o) JOHN: waiter! help!

I’m imagining Gamzee now as a sweaty and homeless, unkempt Guy Fieri.

Yeah, this doesn’t look like it’ll be fun.

==>

...Swifer Eggmop.  ¬_¬”

There’s a third member of their social group who definitely hasn’t arrived at the conclusion that his power and influence should be meted out responsibly either. Neither of them speak his name, however. For some reason, it feels like a shadow passing over the sun. A brief spike of pain flickers through Rose’s head, a bolt that strikes between her eyes and splinters out. There is color and light behind it. A vision that tears through the material reality in front of her and gives her a brief glimpse into a parallel reality where things are very different.

Yeah, fuck Dirk.

...Pff. Yeah, Rose WOULD mimic the record-scratch gesture.

Don’t invoke “never seeing Vriska again” like that, you’re really tempting fate.

Heh, Rose is finding some Light in the darkness, wanting to do something that’s meaningful on an expressive level with this Vriskgrub business.

Hm... why is my stomach a little less uneasy?

I sure hope it stays that way.

==>

KARKAT: OH MY GOD, ARE THE MECHANICAL GLUTES ON THAT BILLBOARD ACTUALLY PADDED WITH PLUSH TO MAKE THEM MORE LIFELIKE?

Heck Yes

...Yes, touch the butt, Karkat.

Jade, pouting a bit, glides in between them and uses her Space powers to teleport Dave’s phone out from the center of his traumatized palm and into the pocket of her sweater.

Hm!  So she still has teleportation abilities over a limited range even without her Green Sun boost, that’s nice.  :D

After all, where would these two pitiful beta boys be without her?

Oh my fucking god stop being Dirk, Jade.  And never use that narrative language again, even in your head.  Heck, even if Dirk’s the one WRITING this still, don’t even think CLOSE enough to think those words.

...yeah this sounds like an Active player class taking things slightly too far.

Thank you, Karkat, for drawing the consent-line in the sand.  Looks like Jade’s backing off a little.

--hold on, wait, Dave kissed him? He did, so why is-- let me read back up--

Dave doesn’t answer. She answers for him by leaning down and planting a dry, affectionate kiss on Karkat’s cheek.

Okay I misread this line earlier.  Jade kissed Karkat when neither of them were looking and is BLAMING Dave.  Hmm.

Alright, Dave ollies outie.  Karkat tumbles down some hillstairs.

Jade could probably catch him. Actually, she could easily do it, but it doesn’t seem like the kind of favor you should do in a fledgling kismesissitude.

Thaaaat’s a little presumptuous??

JADE: well i guess im eating grub spaghetti alone JADE: *again*!!!

:C

I’d be sadder if you didn’t bring it down hard upon yourself but

:C

==>

Yeah, John, better clear up this Callie business because it’s muddy as heck why Roxy would just drop everything to try things out with you.

Ah, we’re bringing up the gender identity thing on this side too, hm?

More serious talk, this is good, reading reading...

The glasses clink together clumsily, and water gets all over the complimentary breadsticks.

Oh no.  This had better not be Olive Garden.

ROXY: no one else has ever made me feel like this

--not Calliope???

What the heck is even going on.

Dave’s coming for some bro help it looks like.

==>

It’s hilarious how much Dave is freaking out about this, and how completely in-character it is.

JOHN: holy fucking shit. JOHN: there’s a gay snooze button? DAVE: yeah man theres a gay snooze button JOHN: wow.

I love these two’s conversations

......wait, Dave’s been holding off on kissing Karkat because of what he thinks JADE might think???? D:

JOHN: i almost managed to forget that she was trying to fuck you and karkat.

Pfffffffff  :D

Yep.  I love it being put so bluntly.

Reading on... yeah, for some reason I also always figured that the end result of a nice three-way relationship between those three people would be Jade and Dave essentially both just glomming onto Karkat more than each other?  Hm.

JOHN: i mean... it doesn’t sound... JOHN: *canon*?

...I hope you’re just talking about his coin flip explanation and not DaveKatJade.  >:(

John wonders when talking to Dirk has fixed anything for anyone.

Nod nod.

She grins up at John with shimmering, adoring eyes. They’re reflecting every star in the sky, all for him.

Seriously, what the hell.  Is Roxy hypnotized?  Putting on an act?  A voidy act??

I’m not doubting that Roxy COULD feel that way about John, I’m doubting the suddenness and the way Calliope is being deliberately ignored in the situation, which is so goddamn obvious that JOHN is uncomfortable about it.  There’s something seriously strange going on.

It itches at the back of his head, the idea that he might have just fucked up Dave’s entire life.

D:

Alright next post after a bit of breakfast.

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Enter the Kitsune - Prologue pt4

Warnings: Strong language

Masterlist

—

Prologue part 4

“I know. I’ve been expecting you.”

What the hell does that mean? I was led by the hand deep into the woods. The Ninja lowered his mask and turned to me allowing me to see his complete face.

“Do you recognize me now?”

“Oh my god, you’re the lab guy from the monument.” I couldn’t contain my shock as I took in the man before me. Apart from a change in attire, he didn’t seem altogether that much different.

“I’m actually a post-graduate physics student. But I’m glad you remember me. That makes things easier.” Sasuke seemed relieved that I recognised him. I meet you earlier today. I know I took a massive clout on the head since then but my memory isn’t that bad.

“You ended up back here too? This whole thing feels like a really weird sci-fi story… Are you a ninja? Actually, why are you a ninja?” Questions just tumbled out of me like water. I was face to face with someone who knew I wasn’t just telling tall tales of coming from the future. That feeling of acceptance had me babbling like an overly curious child asking a million questions at once.

“It’s easiest if I start from the beginning. My name is Sasuke. And just like you, I come from the present, or rather, the future.” He went on to explain what happened since our encounter. The whole thing made my already sore head throb as it tried to keep track of everything. Swaying on my feet a little I took a seat on a tree stump and looked up at him.

“So, when that lightning struck that monument it caused a warp in space and time around us and it dragged us both back in time?” I tried as logically as I could to walk through the step by step dummies guide to time travel my befuddled brain had compiled for me as it translated extreme science guy jargon. I can’t say I was a brilliant student in school. I mean I liked classes but I was always what they called an average student and clearly, this guy was not only in a different class to me but had slipped into a whole new realm.  

“Yes. That is a very simplified and condensed version of my current theory. We entered the wormhole at the same time. However, I arrived four years prior to you. In that time, I’ve learned that this Sengoku period, or Japan’s civil war, is different than the one we’re familiar with.” Sasuke was happy enough that I had understood his lecture. Four years? No wonder he asked if I remembered him. To be completely honest I’m impressed he remembers me.

“I’ll have to take your word for that. I’m not familiar at all with Japanese history, it wasn’t something we were taught in school … probably the closest I might get are things I’ve seen in movies at some point. Although I know they aren’t accurate reference material.” I admitted my supreme lack of knowledge expecting to see Sasuke react in some way. The reaction doesn’t come if anything he just seems more sympathetic.

“Indeed. In that case, allow me to explain a little more.” Sasuke talked about how his situation upon arriving in the past was similar to my own. He had found himself near a fallen samurai in need of help. That samurai was Kenshin Uesugi. Thanks in large part to his quick thinking and knowledge of modern medicine Sasuke had managed to save Kenshin. A man who was supposed to have died on that date in that time. That meant that according to Sasuke the historical records did not match with the ones from our time. Nobunaga and Kenshin were both alive but that wasn’t all. Shingen (tall guy from the cliff) was supposed to have also been dead by this time too.

“The fact that he is also alive when he shouldn’t be raises some questions about exactly what is happening. Parallel timelines? Multiple dimensions in space and time? Did we change the past?” Grasping the gist of the conversation I ended up with my mind wandering thinking of possible answers. However unbelievable those answers might be.

“To a degree. I do think we’re in an alternate Sengoku period, not the one we know from our time. Following on from your idea it is possible that because of fluctuations in spacetime we’re in a divergent timeline – one in which history will take a different course.” Sasuke thankfully didn’t think that my mainstream grasp on time travel from late night movies on tv was ridiculous. Time travel, alt-histories, timelines… this really is like science fiction. “I said that I was a post-graduate physics student. My major is in theoretical astrophysics at Kyoto University. I specialize in wormholes and am studying them for their potential for time travel. I’d created a method for predicting the conditions and patterns by which a traversable wormhole would manifest. That’s why I was at the stone monument that day. I was trying to verify my method.” I listened to Sasuke only taking in about a third of what he was saying as I was struggling to keep up with him. Ok clearly being a little different is not something monopolised by people born in this era. “I’ve been searching for you here, expecting you to have travelled back in time as I did. I hadn’t considered the possibility that you would arrive four years later.”

“When I came here, I was kind of hoping this was all a dream. Everything that happened so far has been the stuff that movies are made out of but it’s too real to be a dream or a movie.” I said remembering my experiences so far. The smoke in my lungs, how it burnt my eyes. The heat of that fire and the chill in the air when I was outside. How it hurt when I pinched myself and my heart pounding in my chest after I ran. It was all too real to be a dream.

“I can see why you would think so. There is also another anomaly that I have noticed in this timeline.” Sasuke’s stoic expression seemed to have an intense look about it as he looked closer at me in the dark.

“Another?”

“Are you aware you are speaking perfect Japanese? Not just speaking it but obviously also understanding it. I Don’t suppose you could, before could you?”

“What? Err, no I… Seriously I’m speaking in another language?” Sasuke’s words suddenly hit me with something I had yet to realise. I was so wrapped up in everything else happening I hadn’t even noticed.

“You didn’t know?” His brown eyes widened slightly.

“Well no I didn’t. although I suppose that makes more sense than everyone from 15th-century Japan speaking perfect English. How could I be--?” My voice trailed off, swallowed up by the quiet stillness of the forest.

“It is only an idea and I would hesitate to provide a diagnosis as I am not trained in medicine but I think you might have developed a rare form of something like foreign language syndrome.” Sasuke spoke calmly as if he was recalling some distant memory.

“What is that?” I was curious. It was a bad habit that got me in far more trouble than I would like, but at the same time, it was never something I had been able to change since I was a child.

“Well, it is something that can occur after a trauma has taken place. You develop a shift in your accent to sound as if you are a native from a different country. There have been cases where the stored vocabulary banks of the mind have also been affected and people have been known to speak fluent alternative languages as a result. As I say the cases of such things are very rare phenomena, I wouldn’t be able to go into great detail on it other than to say I believe I read a medical journal at some point that said that patients with this could possibly return to normal after the trauma is healed and with the help of relearning their native language.” Sasuke’s gaze was looking through me, settled at a point that was both where I was and also where I wasn’t. He clearly had the ability to recall even vague information in detail.

“So, the bang on my head was bad enough to knock the English right out of me?”

“You seem to be very good at summarizing. But yes, that would be my working theory at the minute. I realise it’s a little unbelievable--.” Sasuke lowered his eyes a little as he spoke.

“But… Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.” I don’t know why but sometimes my mind just makes random connections to things and I end up blurting out references and quotes to things that generally just leave others confused.

My friends in college took great delight in making up their own game where they would ask me quick-fire questions and see if I could answer them using only quotes and general trivia. That small memory had me cringing as I waited for the same look of confusion to appear on Sasuke’s face, but that never happened.

“Nice use of reference. I must admit I enjoy a good mystery novel from time to time myself.” Sasuke’s eyes seemed to brighten as he recognised the Sherlock Holmes quote. He not only understood that he liked it? “To get back on track if I may. With reference to your idea of this not being a dream, you could say that this is, in fact, a dream situation for me. I get to see and meet the famous men and women of the Sengoku with my own eyes.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us is enjoying themselves.” Looking at him it did seem to be true that he was actually in his element right now. I was confused and not very happy with my own situation but I was still happy enough that someone else was at least having fun.

“My parents were huge history buffs. I got my name from Sasuke Sarutobi, who was a legendary ninja that served Yukimura Sanada. Being a ninja of legend also meant he is fictional. So, I have assumed his “place” in time in order to avoid damaging the historical timeline further than necessary.” Sasuke almost appeared to be more animated as he elaborated. It was probably the most expressive I had seen him since I’d met him, even if his face still seemed to be devoid of movement.

“Did you pick up your job here as a ninja while you were waiting or were your parents ninjas as well as history fanatics?” I asked mirroring a little of his enthusiasm. When someone speaks so happily and passionately about something it's hard not to get wrapped up in the moment.

“I studied that here. It seemed useful to pick up a marketable vocation.” Sasuke said as he pushed his glasses back up securely on his nose. Ok well, a scientific history fanboy turned historical ninja is an interesting plot twist. Talk about thinking on your feet. I may have to take a leaf out of this guy’s book on fast adaption aiding survival. Sasuke indicated the path we had just taken to get here. “Right now, I’m employed with the men you saw earlier by the cliff. I would like you to come with me. I promise I’ll find a way to return us both to the present.” He offered me his hand waiting for a reply.

For the first time since arriving here, I found myself properly thinking about where I had come from. The job I had worked hard to gain experience and recognition in so I could get into the department I really wanted to be in. My small apartment that was a little rundown but I loved it all the same. Then there was all the people, the ones I worked with, family, friends that meet up with me once a month just to grab drinks and hang out.

My options in this situation are definitely limited. I had no doubt that I wanted to return, there was nothing for me here after all. If there really is a way to get back then my chances of doing so have to be increased by hanging out with the guy who can work out space-time stuff. Great now I have the theme for Doctor Who playing on a loop in my head… that is so not helpful right now. Ignoring my inner radio station that clearly took just as much of a bump as my skull did upon entry to the Sengoku. I was about to take his hand when our private moment was interrupted.

“Aerion! Where are you!? Come out!”

---

[chmerkovskiyvalentin]

Q&A With Valentin Chmerkovskiy

BOOK: I'LL NEVER CHANGE MY NAME AUTHOR: VALENTIN CHMERKOVSKIY

1. In your opinion, what were some advantages you had being an immigrant and what were some disadvantages you faced in America?

I guess being an immigrant at a young age gave me an opportunity to be challenged in ways most kids my age didn’t get challenged. Learning another language different from the one I have been speaking since birth, trying to fit in while not being able to afford certain things that had social status, from clothing to vacations, whatever gave you the license to be cool I didn’t possess when I was young.

But what I realized is work-ethic and talent are the coolest things you can have at any age, and immediately the things I didn’t have became my most valuable assets teaching me some of my most valuable lessons.

2. What inspired the title of your book, “I’ll Never Change My Name” and did you always have pride in your name or was it something you had to grow to love?

I always had immense pride in my name, because my name was given to me in memory of my grandfather who passed away a few years before I was born. He was an extraordinary man whose name I wear and it’s always held me accountable, as did my last name.

Both were subject to a lot of conversation throughout my life some good and some a little more hurtful, but never did I feel less than for having a foreign name in a place I called home. It always empowered me. Being different and having challenges because of it always inspired me to be greater!

3. Have you been back to Ukraine in your adulthood? Do you feel that the American views of Ukraine as a whole are misinformed? If so, why?

I have. It’s a beautiful country with some really beautiful people. I can’t speak on American views of Ukraine because I think it’s impossible to make that assumption based on what we see on TV. I would just suggest anyone that hasn’t been, to go and visit. Having said that, to me America is home. America is where I truly grew up. And America is the country I’m most grateful for. Along with France, God knows I love croissants and Rousseau.  

4. You talk a lot about your family and culture, what elements of your family changed when you arrived in the States and what elements stayed the same?

My family has always been my foundation. It's what drives me, holds me accountable, keeps me moving and pushing. When we first arrived there was tremendous uncertainty for all of us. All of the family members had their own individual challenges they faced but it was family that was the constant. We didn't know where the next dollar was coming from but we all knew that when we got home we had each other.

My parents were truly magicians, especially my mom who with very little was always able to provide the family with a warm cooked meal and had us all congregate around the dinner table daily. I do feel that was the piece of our culture we brought to the States and haven't abandoned it still. Gathering daily as a family to check in and push one another built a very strong bond and with folks like mine, I was able to be surrounded by love and support even if outside our home there was very little of it. In terms of what changed... well everything changed.

We become what we surround ourselves with. As we moved neighborhoods and as our circumstances changed, so did our lives and our outlook on it. But no matter what, we always kept our language (speaking only Russian at the dinner table) and our family traditions.

5. How easy or difficult was it for you to find your voice as a writer? And do you feel the “authentic you” was able to come out?

I've had this voice for a long time. I always loved storytelling I just had never been able to put it all down on paper before, not in this capacity at least. The most important thing for me throughout this entire process was to do justice to the reader for spending their money and most importantly time reading my book. I wanted to make sure that it wasn't just me venting or gossiping, but that I was being respectful and accurate, and also entertaining and inspiring all at the same time.

Now, I don't think anyone should seek to inspire others but rather seek to be themselves the best way they can be and hopefully, by sharing their story others can relate and be inspired. I feel like with this book I got to be myself and share what I find important with the world. Hopefully, someone out there drew a little happiness from the read. That’s all I can ever ask for from my work.

6. What was your writing process like for this book?

I looked back at my life at a glance and just started listing moments that shaped my perspective and my experiences. I tried to then draw parallels between my past and my present, and just make some sense of it all. As the process went on, I was able to discover so many connections, so many fun moments, so many moments that made me say, "Aha that all makes sense now." Without reflection, it's hard to be mindful, and as I try to live a mindful life, I reflect a lot on the moments that brought me here. I wrote about it. This is who I am, and here's why.

7. You have such a unique life story, during your writing process did you ever stop and pinch yourself, realizing where you are now?

That "unique life" is exactly why I wanted to write this book. I wanted to share how dynamic life can be, for it's the thing that will make you look back one day and want to pinch yourself too. I’m so grateful for all the hands I was dealt in my life, the losing ones and the winning ones. I'm just grateful I got to play them all.

8. What have you learned most about yourself through working on “Dancing With The Stars”?

Patience haha. I learned how much I love to perform, how much I love to help people. To some degree, I always knew that, but 'Dancing With The Stars' showed me how rewarding it can be when you're doing what you love and sharing it with millions of people.

9. Who was someone that you danced with on the show that completely surprised you because of their dancing talents?

Rumer Willis, cause she was not a dancer. She was not someone that had danced before at all. To see her transform into a dancer was really amazing. It was actually the first time I ever won DWTS was with Rumer. It was one of the most rewarding seasons not because we won, but because I got to help this young woman find her inner strength and beauty. I was able to be a small part of her journey and contribute to her growth, all while watching her family and the world celebrate her. That was very special for me.

10. Can you talk a little bit about the dance studio you opened in Buckhead (an uptown district in Atlanta) and what you hope students get from your studio?

Like with every Dance With Me location around the country, I want it to be a place for people to feel welcome, in what can be one of the most terrifying environments for people... a Dance Studio. That is most important to me, that people are proud to be part of our little community of positivity, inclusion, self-improvement, and fun. Dance is just a vehicle for the bigger picture, living a fulfilling life. That’s all we are. Dance With Me is a place where I want people to find a little help, a little motivation, and a little joy on their path to living a complete and fulfilling life.

11. What’s the best book you have read in 2019 thus far?

The Subtle Art of Not Giving A F*ck. Don't let the title fool you, it’s a book about how to care even more... about the things that truly matter. "The Subtle Art of Caring Responsibly" just didn't have the same ring to it.

12. What’s your best advice for getting over writer’s block?

Just like getting over procrastination and anxiety... JUST DO IT. So insensitive and so simple I know, but sometimes we complicate things into non-existence. Relax. Breathe. And GO. Action is the best remedy for all the blocks in our life.

Force yourself to just take the first step, write the first paragraph and you will see that just one word turns into two and then ten and then you got yourself a story. I like to see the bigger picture in everything I do. What’s the message? What’s the point? What’s the bigger message? How is this different? I mean sure it’s all important but... breathe, relax, and START!

It’s ok if its garbage at first, genius sometimes can come out of garbage, and sometimes not, sometimes it just stays garbage. But, in this short time, we have on earth creating something is better than creating nothing, so create don't worry about the end in the beginning. One step at a time. One word at a time. One breath at a time. Not in that order, of course, make sure you breathe throughout. :)

13. What’s the best advice you have ever received on happiness?

I didn't. It's a constant search. Happiness is earned with action and adventure and movement and ups and downs in life! Happiness is in constant motion, you gotta chase it, find it, and foster it. If you're unhappy, just remember that happiness is just around the corner. But, don't take anyone's word for it, go and see it for yourself. And if you don't find it still, then go to your nearest Dance With Me. I promise you will find happiness there. Nothing like the human touch shared on the dance floor.

14. Do you plan on writing more books in the future?

I do when I have the spark. When I get this dying desire that I can’t breathe without writing it. I couldn't breathe with all of these stories in my head, I had to put them in a book. I had to share. I don't have that now. I'm actually in a state of reclusion to some degree, where the combination of spending the last 7 years on television along with 7 national tours and then writing this book, I feel like I need to step back.

I need to be a human again and live, and in living find inspiration for the thoughts that will turn into words I want to share with the world. I think the next book I write will be fiction.

[askcarlyle]

Askblog Halloween Special, Discord Edition Part 1

[As many of you are aware, our askblog collective also inhabits a TGS Discord server and occasionally participates in real-time RP threads. These scenarios run parallel to the events of the blogs and feature the same cast, but are usually not considered part of our official Tumblr timeline. Earlier this week, @askbarnum​, @askcharitybarnum​, @askstabbydeng​ and I collaborated on a Halloween special of sorts, which I am pleased to share with you now...]

Barnum 

-Strolls into the centre ring just as the troupe are packing up after an evening of rehearsing- 

Now I know that everyone is ready to head off, but I'd like to open up the opportunity to anyone feeling eager for an adventure. 

I have come into possession of a manor house that's supposedly haunted, it's going to be the biggest Halloween attraction in the city. I've got arrangements for tours and people in costumes. It's going to be spectacular, a huge hit with the kids. 

First I need to check out that it's a safe building so who's in the mood for a night away from home?

Carlyle

There's no such thing as ghosts. There is such a thing as a safety inspector, though. For the sake of avoiding lawsuits and identifying off-limits areas, I suppose I'm attending this excursion.

Barnum

You seem awfully sure in that statement. C'mon Phil, where's your sense of adventure. You can't sell the unusual if you don't believe in it. 

Pats him on the back affectionately as he waltzes past towards the exit 

Pack your bags troupe. We meet back here at 8pm sharp. Not a trip for the faint hearted.

Deng Yan

watching this exchange take place. Walks up to Phillip once Barnum leaves I would have to disagree, Carlyle. Spirits are a part of our world, just not one I am afraid of. Regardless, I suppose I should be in attendance. I am intrigued to see what exactly Barnum has in mind.

Carlyle

tries politely to conceal a disbelieving look I respect your beliefs, of course, Miss Yan, but have yet to witness anything that would persuade me otherwise. wanders off to prepare a bag

Barnum

-Eagerly checks his pocket watch, leaning against the tent entrance with a suitcase in hand, a few minutes before 8-

Carlyle

comes in dragging a large suitcase

Deng Yan

wanders up, arm in arm with Charity Mr Barnum. Mr Carlyle. Are we waiting for anyone else to join us this evening?

Carlyle

Do you suppose there will be running water?

Barnum

No no, I think you're the only three who signed up. Can't think why anyone would turn down such an opportunity. 

Glances at Phil and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. 

We are staying for one night, Phil. Why is your case so big? 

And no there won't be running water. The place is yet to be renovated, authenticity and all that. I've got a few pillows and blankets in the carriage already but that's really the extent of the luxuries. There's not even a privy. It'll be just like camping, except with an element of the supernatural.

Carlyle

greets Charity and Deng with a small bow and helps them with their bags

Charity

Well this will be fun

Carlyle

...camping? I should have packed more soap.

Barnum

Come along ladies, and gent. Leads the way out to the carriage and holds the door open for them You'll be fine, Phil. You don't need soap, there's unlikely a place to fill a bath tub.

Carlyle

rummages in suitcase and unpacks a pile of books regretfully I guess these can stay here for just one night.

Charity

How much reading were you planning on doing?

Carlyle

You never know.

Barnum

I have to question your logic sometimes.

Carlyle

The classics are never out of place.

Barnum

How many books are in there? Did you even pack a night shirt?

Deng Yan

Now, now. Do we really need to discuss Carlyle's sleeping attire?

Carlyle

Two, in fact. Options are good.

Barnum

Tw....never mind. Just. Let's go. 

Herds them into the carriage, Charity sat next to Deng and himself sitting next to Phil opposite the two ladies. Then taps the roof to get them started. 

I'm so glad you decided to join us too, Chairy.

Charity

I wouldn't miss this. I love old, haunted houses

Barnum

I'll be just like when we were young.

Charity

Exactly

Deng Yan

When you were young? I don't recall you telling this story before. settling back into the carriage I am also very glad of your company. My Rosie said she would prefer to stay at home in the warm tonight. I cannot think why. We have stayed in far colder places than this. smiles at Charity I needed the female company.

Carlyle

How did you find this place, anyway, PT?

...and being in the company of such fine ladies is always a delight, of course.

Barnum

I have my sources. gives Phil a wink and taps his nose knowingly 

They were selling it off extremely cheaply, no-one will purchase it because there has been so many occurrences of the supernatural. Also sixteen people were brutally murdered there. It used to be an orphanage! 

Pulls a handful of peanuts out of his pocket to snack on while they ride 

Have I really not told any stories about myself and Charity when we were children? She was quite the rebellious young girl. Always eager to sneak out. We'd go exploring in the night time and I was always seeking out abandoned places that we could run off to.

Charity

16 people?! Goodness...

Deng Yan

Why were people murdered in an orphanage?

Charity

Did no one think to check after the first murder?

Barnum

Minor details. Waves his hand dismissively

Carlyle

Murdered. looks appalled

Deng Yan

giggles into her hand at Charity's words

Charity

Maybe the seller was exaggerating a bit?

Deng Yan

No matter. I look forward to this.

Barnum

Picks up the candle lighting the inside of the carriage at night and holds it close to his face. 

It happened just over thirty years ago now. This orphanage was like no other, it was a place radiating cruelty and evil. Children preferred being sent to the workhouse to staying here. 

The matrons would beat the children for crying out for their parents, the beds were full of mould and disease spread every year leaving the children frail and ill. An awful place. 

And one night it got even worse...

Carlyle

shifts uncomfortably in seat and stares out window

Deng Yan

That sounds perfectly horrible.

Charity

....And?

Barnum

Takes off his hat slowly and places it in his lap, leaning the candle on the top. 

Lights out was at 8 o'clock. The children were marched to bed and locked in. Heavy wooden doors with large steel locks, the only person with a key was the matron. 

That night a man broke into the facility. Some say he was a victim of abuse at the home, returning to the place he was broken. Others say he was a maniac escaped from the asylum down town. Rumour has it he only had half a face. 

Runs his fingers down his face eerily for dramatic effect 

First he sliced the throat of the matron. 

Runs a finger across his throat 

Then he took her key then locked himself in the bedroom with the children. There were fifteen to a room and he killed them all. Reports say they were tortured into the night, poor souls. Police didn't find them until the next morning. The murderer had hung himself in the centre of the room surrounded by his victims. 

To this day no one knows why it happened. Some say they can still hear the sounds of the children crying for their mothers in the hallways.

Charity

I almost regret asking

Deng Yan

That... really is awful, if there is any truth in it.

Carlyle

continues looking out window, paleness probably just from the reflected moonlight

Deng Yan

Mr Carlyle, are you quite well?

Carlyle

coughs It's unfortunate. Unfortunate if the agent felt the need to concoct such a tale just to unload the property on a buyer known for his love of sensationalism.

Charity

Or we might hear the sounds of children crying tonight....

Barnum

Hangs the candle back in it's place 

Oh, the agent didn't say anything about that. He'd be an idiot if he did. I just stayed here for a few months when I was a boy. 

Watches the carriage come to a stop outside of a huge dark building, broken windows with a worn down playground. 

Oh we're here! C'mon, no time like the present. 

Cheerfully unlocks the door and climbs out to grab the bags.

Deng Yan

stares after Barnum for a moment before climbing down after him and offering a hand to Charity Are you quite sure you wish to stay here? You could take the carriage back to the circus?

Carlyle

remains sitting stiffly in carriage for a moment, blinking in obvious horror

Deng Yan

looks back into the carriage at Carlyle I meant you too. I wouldn't think any less of you if you chose not to stay.

Charity

has already set off towards the house

Carlyle

clears throat and scrambles out after Charity Safety protocols.

Deng Yan

takes her bag and follows after them

Charity

Watch out for the cobwebs!

Barnum

Turns around to watch them catch up, grinning in delight, then takes out a large metal key to unlock the huge front doors with a clunk. Waltzing inside the dust covered mansion and breathing in deeply with a look of excitement. 

Bit overgrown in places but it all adds to the effect doesn't it? Terribly creepy. It'll make the perfect attraction to terrify people. I think I'll line the floors with rubber for easy cleaning. 

Dumps his suitcase carelessly

Carlyle

...why do you anticipate there will be that much mess?

Charity

Because there's no light in here lights candle

Carlyle

hands Charity a lantern to set it in

Barnum

Thank you Charity. 

Picks up a lantern from the wall and lights it against hers too 

Leans close to Phil and lifts his chin with one finger to meet his gaze in the dim light. 

I anticipate because I know that I am very good at running a show. I already have several actors lined up and being fitted for outfits. People love to be frightened.

Deng Yan

wiping a trail of dust from the banister of the stairs, then blowing on her finger, watching the dust rise into the air How long did you say this place had been empty for?

Carlyle

shakes off the feeling of foreboding and hastily grabs another lantern, shining it into corners Long enough to develop a pest problem, it seems.

Barnum

Just over thirty years. They closed down very quickly after the unfortunate events. 

Jumps a little as a rat runs over his foot, grunting and stepping back 

Blegh. Looks like you're right. I'll get pest control in tomorrow.

Charity

So where are these ghosts you promised me?

Carlyle

bumps into Barnum when he jumps back, having been tailing him closely during their exploration Ack.

Barnum

Careful, Phil. 

Turns around to steady the younger man 

...You alright? You don't look yourself. Make sure you eat something, alright? 

Glances at Charity and cocks an eyebrow 

It's still early, and we're only in the lobby, Let's wander upstairs. We can stay in the murder room.

Charity

Ominous. Do you have to call it murder room? I think Carlyle is about to pass out

Carlyle

voice perhaps wavers a bit more than desirable Don't think I'm going to be hungry, thank you.

Deng Yan

I could cleanse the room, if you like.

Carlyle

nods slowly If that would make you feel better.

Barnum

Hey, no doing anything to drive out ghosts. People will pay a fortune to come and look if there are any here. 

You ladies go on ahead, its upstairs, eight doors to the left. I'll catch up in a moment, I just need a word with Phil. 

Gently tugs Phil back towards the entrance for some fresh air.

Carlyle

follows, glad for a breather

Deng Yan

sighs, walking up the stairs, more dust raising with each footfall He would rather keep the souls of children entrapped in the place they were murdered?

Charity

I'm sure it's just a story

Deng Yan

I like to believe so. I can't truly imagine Barnum being that callous.

Barnum

Pauses in the doorway with Phillip, rubbing circles on his back. 

Are you sure you're okay? I can send the carriage to take you back if you're not feeling up to this? Can tell the girls that you felt under the weather or something.

Carlyle

regains some composure taking in the crisp fall air. Shakes head and makes a derisive sound Don't be ridiculous. I know this is all just an act. It was just a bit stifling in there. So much dust.

Barnum

Gives his shoulder a reassuring pat 

Alright, well just take it easy. You know I wouldn't let anything happen to you. 

Presses a kiss to his cheek then turns around to dash off after the ladies 

Come join us when you're ready.

Deng Yan

upstairs, making her away along the corridor tell me, Mrs Barnum. Is what he said true? About you sneaking out as a child? I have to confess I can't imagine you conforming to a stifling lifestyle. You are like my Rosie in that respect.

Charity

Yes I used to climb out the window and meet up with him on the beach

Deng Yan

On the beach? Very romantic.

Charity

Not in the middle of winter

Barnum

Jogs to catch them up 

Nonsense, the beach is romantic all year round.

Deng Yan

turns quickly at the sounds of his footsteps and visibly relaxes seeing it's Barnum

Charity

You almost died that time you decided to go for a swim on the coldest day of the year

Barnum

Grins proudly as he pushes to walk in between them 

Almost. But I didn't. You can't say you weren't impressed by my resilience.

Deng Yan

smirking Now there is a story I would like to hear. From you, Mrs Barnum, not his abridged version. pauses outside the eighth door Is this it?

Charity

Yes obviously I married you for your resilience. It's a deal, Miss Yan

Carlyle

stands at doorway for a few moments longer, feeling a bit more bolstered after the talk, then turns to find he is alone in the lobby ...PT? takes a few steps back inside, swinging lantern around to see Phin? heads up the stairs at a nervous clip

Barnum

Just the one. 

Notices the boards nailed over the door when he runs the lantern close 

Hmm, I didn't bring a hammer. Hold this for me a moment, won't you. 

Passes the lantern to Charity before taking a few steps back and running at the door, throwing himself into it and knocking it hard enough to send the the whole door falling out of its rotting frame and landing on the floor with a loud crack. Revealing an eerie old bedroom, fifteen beds in a row along the long stretch of wall. Strange dark staining on the floorboards hard to make out in the dim light.

Charity

I really hope that's not blood

Deng Yan

It's... probably water residue.

Carlyle

startles at the sound of a sudden crash from further up, followed by a fresh cascade of dust. Coughs and waves away the cloud, taking a blind turn to the left and squinting down the hall

Barnum

Whatever it is, I hope it hasn't weakened the floor boards. Stay here. 

Cautiously wanders into the room, careful of every step. Getting to the centre of the room and then bouncing on the creaky floorboards a few times. 

...No they're fine. Come on in.

Deng Yan

And what would we have done if you had gone crashing straight through? searching in the shoulder bag she is carrying for something

Barnum

I was at least 60% sure it was fine. 

Wanders around, inspecting the beds to see if they're too mouldy to sleep in. Deciding that they are and dumping his suitcase on the ground instead 

Can I have my lantern back? It's dark.

Carlyle

counts off doors, though unsure whether it was 8 doors total or on both sides. Shrugs and twists the handle on the final one, stepping into a dim room that looks like a nursery

Charity

Only if you stop angering the ghosts passes lantern What happened to Phillip? Did he go home?

Barnum

Takes it with a sarcastic eye roll 

I'm not making that promise. 

He was feeling a little faint so he said he'd catch us up after a little fresh air.

Charity

under breath Oh good we're all going to die

Barnum

Squints 

...Did you just hear a door open somewhere?

Deng Yan

stops searching her bag Yes I did actually. I am sure it's just Phillip looking for us

Barnum

Clears his throat 

Of course. He probably just took a wrong turn.

Deng Yan

Shall I go and check?

Barnum

That would be helpful, don't need him stumbling around in the dark by himself when we're not sure the structure is safe.

Carlyle

steps further in and makes out a moldering old rocking horse, not unlike the one from his own childhood. Runs hand lightly over it, setting it swaying back and forth

Deng Yan

Of course not. retreats back into the hallway Carlyle? walking a little further along the corridor Phillip?

Charity

I don't like us all splitting up like this

Barnum

Waves his hand dismissively 

It'll be fine, I'm sure he's not too far away.

Charity

You just said you're not sure it's safe and you let him go walking around without a lantern

Barnum

I'm pretty sure he has a lantern. And he's no idiot. I'm sure we'd hear him if he hurt himself or anything.

Carlyle

sets a mobile spinning in passing, smiling at the shadows of animals thrown onto the walls in the lamplight. Leaves the door open and wanders into the next room, calmer now in these surroundings hearkening back to childhood

Deng Yan

sees the open door and goes to investigate Carlyle? If this is a trick I will not be best pleased.

Carlyle

wanders over to examine a dollhouse, accidentally tipping over some small chairs in the dimness. Sets it aside and catches a glimpse of some bookshelves in the next room. hums a half-forgotten lullaby to himself while exploring, now more sad than frightened by the thought of any souls left forgotten here

Deng Yan

walks through the nursery and into the next room Carlyle??

Barnum

Wanders right to the end of the room, finding the door to the Matrons room and pulling a small piece of wire from his pocket to try to pick it. 

She is taking her time though.

Charity

despairing sigh

Carlyle

holds up lantern to read the titles in the shelf Hmm, not bad. sees a flicker of movement out of corner of eye Hello? sits down at the table and opens book Well, if there are 15 of you up here, you've probably been bored to tears. Why don't I tell you a story.

Barnum

If you're going to sigh and huff at me then you are more than welcome to join them. 

Successfully picks the lock and lets out a sound of triumph as he confidently steps into the pitch black room, illuminating the moulding ceilings and walls with his lantern 

I'm perfectly content to explore the interesting areas by mysel- 

Crashes through the floor with a small yelp

Charity

Safer here in the murder room...

Or not. 

Did you hurt yourself? 

....Phineas?

rushes over

Barnum

Hauls himself to sit up, squinting at the pitch blackness 

No, I think I'm fine. My lantern just went out. I'm in the room below.

Charity

Don't move you might've broken something. 60% sure the floor was safe, eh?

Barnum

Charity, I'm fine. 

Shifts to his feet 

And 60% of the floor probably was safe. I just happened to step on part of the 40% that wasn't.

Carlyle

Once upon a time there lived a beast, cursed to end his existence in an abandoned old manor because of his own hubris. He was once a prince, but his pride led him to push aside others and use the helpless merely as a tool for entertainment and gain.

Deng Yan

looking in the doorway, seeing Phillip with the book Oh, Carlyle.... walks over to rest against the wall near him

Carlyle

For this, he was imprisoned and placed under a spell, along with all the occupants of the house, where they dwelled in an unaging half-life, waiting for the one.... 

looks up at the sound Miss Yan! Where is everyone? I thought we were meeting here.

Barnum

Kneels down to blindly pat the ground to try to find his lantern, fingers landing on the dulled candle in a puddle of something, grimacing in annoyance realising he wouldn't be able to re-light it. 

Chairy, I can't see anything. It's really dark. Have Phil and Deng come back yet?

Deng Yan

You got the wrong room. nods towards the book Carry on, by all means

Charity

No it's just me. This is why I didn't want us going separate ways. 

realises she's alone now and the hairs on the back of her neck start to rise

Carlyle

The wrong room? looks around Are you sure? 

squints and looks around, in the shadows ...because they seem to think they're in the right room.

Barnum

Takes a couple of cautious steps forwards until his hands touch a wall in the dark, trying to make sense of his blind surroundings 

I'm uh. Not a big fan of... 

You won't go anywhere will you? You'll stay here with me. 

Clears his throat to try to hide the waver in his voice

Charity

I have a lantern, shall I come and find you?

Deng Yan

...They?

Barnum

No!...No it's fine. Don't leave. Stay here.

Charity

If you can't see, you could be getting into anything and I'm not convinced you're not injured. 

carefully walks over to where Phineas was and shines light through floorboards

Barnum

Squints at the slight light, breathing a little shakily, at least able to see his own hands now

Carlyle

nods and continues scanning the room Yeah, all of them, just like he said. But they're not angry. And they don't want to haunt. They're waiting for someone to break their curse. 

turns to look at Deng now Didn't you say you knew how?

Deng Yan

looks around the room I might... I didn't think you believed in any of this.

Charity

feels something crawl over her shoe 

Please be just a rat

Carlyle

...I don't. But I know what something trapped and in pain feels like and there's plenty of that here.

Barnum

Hears the sound of footsteps and shuffles slightly where he is. 

Chairy you're not...are you walking around up there? I can hear something down here. There's not supposed to be anyone in here yet. The actors don't start until we've renovated.

Carlyle

Do you have your supplies?

Charity

....No? Haven't moved....

Deng Yan

smiles softly, indicating her bag I do. And you're a sweetheart, you know?

Carlyle

shrugs A fool is someone who isn't willing to change when given reason to.

Charity

unable to stop her voice shaking Phineas? Please come back.

Barnum

Takes off his hat to squeeze against his stomach 

I...changed my mind. Come and find me. 

Chairy. I think there's someone down here. It's dark, I want to leave now.

Charity

This is what you get for calling something a murder room 

backs away to the door and flees

Barnum

Hears creepy sounds creaking in the room like footsteps 

Fine I...I take it back. I won't call it a murder room anymore. I won't exploit anything. We can make different Halloween plans, we can- 

Feels a hand touch his back and shrieks, turning and bolting as fast as he can into the pitch black hallway 

CHARITY!!! PHIL!!! DENG YAN!!!!

[To be continued.]

[nookishposts]

Professing

I was chatting with a friend today about all manner of things including long term plans. He remarked that in the last couple of years, any psychic or reader that he has gone to has been unable to tell him much about what lies ahead. I asked him if he knew what it was he wanted exactly from his future and he replied that he really didn’t, and perhaps that is the problem.

It’s fair to say that we are all at least a little curious about what lies ahead. It would help with budgets and planning for a start. Maybe having advance knowledge of the winning lottery numbers in next week’s draw wouldn’t hurt, but then if that were possible, why aren’t all psychics wealthy and retired? And  why do so many lottery winners end up miserable?

To be healthy and safe and cared for is likely enough of a future goal for most folks, and yet a surprising number feel that they are none of those things. They long in fact to feel that they matter in the world, that they have value, that there will simply be someone there should they find themselves in trouble or in need. Perhaps a goal we might consider is one that allows us to check in and make sure that no one we know feels that way. It’s fairly easy to let someone know that they matter and are supported; you tell them. If not in words than in small gestures: a hug for no reason, an actual phone call out of the blue, a small pot of posies left on a doorstep. Allowing the light of your genuine smile to warm a wordless conversation. All of these are so do-able. We know how we feel when we are in receipt of any of them. Your own future will undoubtedly be comprised of many such tiny moments that matter.

The future big picture is often the stuff of dreams. A second honeymoon paid for not just in hard-earned savings, but in runny noses and dubious report cards, teaching teenagers to drive and the holding of breath as they launch themselves into the world. That little getaway cabin or condo that you might run to when life is just annoying. The sports car you’ve been dreaming of since before you could drive. Those incredible grandchildren born finally, sometimes against all odds. The later-in-life love affair.

Think back over the last year of your life. The highs and the lows. The sideswipes and the unexpected thrills. What if anything might have changed if you had been given a program of events at the top of that year, before it all actually happened? It could have been great to have avoided the fender-bender downtown by knowing to take a different route to work on a given Monday, no hassle with insurance and repairs and chiropractor appointments for that pesky whiplash. But it could also take the fun right out of your birthday presents. How much would it have been worth to you to have a head’s-up? And if you knew what was coming and avoided the challenges, what might it have given you as a person? Might it have made you a bit smug, or just more fearful? 

The Ancients employed all manner of divination; runes, bones, shooting stars, failing crops, special cards, herbal concoctions, tea leaves, and clues from the animal kingdom. As I was growing up, I remember being told that if a bird flew into the window, someone would soon die. That if the palm of my hand itched, it would likely be graced with money. That if I spilled the salt at supper, a pinch of it thrown over my shoulder would keep the devil from my door. Omens. Portents. Clues to what secrets lay in my future. Admit it, you still do the thing with the salt, right? I have been known to make wishes on stars too.

What about those unsettling feelings we all experience from time to time? That “gut feeling”, or sixth sense or hunch. There are moments we find ourselves just knowing, whether it’s a sense of deja vu or hearing the phone ring and being 100% certain of who is calling even if you haven’t heard from them in ages. Some of it may be explained away as leftovers of a time when we were wild things and our lives depended on our senses being keen. A prickling of the hairs on the back of the neck, a tiny sound altering what we are used to hearing in the symphony of living. That weird little whoosh of adrenaline that says a hungry lion is hunting and we’d best skedaddle, now! 

We’ve all met people who just seem to somehow know stuff we don’t. Usually they don’t call themselves psychic at all, their knowing-ness is just as much a part of them as the colour of their eyes. Sometimes they even hide their talents for fear of being either laughed at or pestered unduly. Do we all have that ability? Can it be taught? How would it affect my choices and the way I move in the world if I could predict beyond the horizon of what my five basic senses tell me is currently true? And what if I turned out to be wrong?

I have certainly had my share of tarot readings. I follow my horoscope, and I’ve sat in a few booths at psychic fairs.They have resulted in both wonderful coincidences and spectacular misses. I remain intrigued either way. I just like the idea that there are people in the world who seem to be able to operate on a separate plane of consciousness at will. It makes me wonder about parallel universes and time travel and an afterlife. About collective energies and higher beings. Even flipping a coin to make a decision is kind of a way of asking for Universal input under the guise of chance. Maybe it’s just  tantalising mystery  crossed with tempting Fate. I like the hints of wisdom, even if they come disguised as magic.

What do we want from the future? How much effort would we be willing to put forth towards actively cultivating a flourishing reality  from  just the seed of a hint? What obstacles might we more bravely face head-on if we were guaranteed a payoff? What would we run from? Would it make us single-minded and less conscious of those around us? Would it be worth it, having life all mapped out and not really being able to change the trajectory of those certainties?

I have long accepted that I have a catastrophising streak in me, and with age I have also learned to quickly talk myself off the ledge, thank heavens. I suspect too much knowledge about what lies ahead would make me even more nuts and ready to hide in the bushes. I love to have fun with prediction and divination, especially when it comes from someone who has actually studied the culture and context of whatever form they are practising. The “good” prognosticators that I have come across have rarely made hard-fact bets on anything, instead they have offered fresh perspective and asked me to consider soul-searching questions, or suggested exercises and readings to help to tune in and focus. I do find those things very helpful, and they don’t leave me feeling I am at the mercy of a predetermined road map.

From the future, I would like the following: to meet people who inspire me to be the best of myself; to leave my worn-out baggage behind, to be challenged enough to actually learn new things, and to be able to spot small miracles in everyday living. I want to be surprised. I want to giggle and guffaw over foolish absurdities, my own and everyone else’s. I want to be shaken up once in a while, even if it means being sad or scared or wrong. I want to alternate between restful observance and meeting the future head-on, eyes open, engines revving. I want some awareness of my own progress as a tiny humble cog in a massive human Wheel of Fortune. I want to look over my shoulder and remember where I have come from and feel good about the journey, hoping that it’s still a long way from over, but even if it’s not, that the ride has been worth every minute. I want to be able to talk about it with anybody else who finds themselves wondering and wandering. I want to put one foot in front of the other, in hope and trust. I find it helps if we remember to just hold hands now and then, as we go.

[god-fucking-dammit-mizutani]

Moonlight Mile

Taishiro Week Day 3: Soccer / Camp

Words: ~2000

Summary: Soccer Camp AU. Taichi enlists the help of his fellow counselor in staying awake. It turns out to be more effective than he hoped. 

Notes/Warnings: Brief mention of drugs as a metaphor. There is no partaking by any of the characters, though.

Read it on AO3!

~*~

The road looms on, an unvarying landscape of dark, blurred trees and highway dividers. Unable to hold a station for very long, the van's junk radio releases a melody of hissing static. The last of the road lights blink in and out of his rearview mirror; the campers whistle and sigh through their light snoozing in the back. Together, it's the recipe for a lullaby Taichi would give anything to succumb to.

Highway Hyponsis. He'd circled the wrong name on a mock exam in driver's ed and now the answer sits with him on every long drive.

Next to him, his fellow counselor shifts in a soft doze. The car swerves slightly right, tires humming over the ridges of the audible lines, before Taichi gets enough of his senses back to correct the steering wheel. He doesn't feel too bad when midnight eyes blink back at him, sleep logged and bleary. Before he can right himself back to sleep, Taichi drops several pats onto his thigh.

"Help me stay awake," he hisses. One of the kids groans, and maybe he should be more sympathetic after a game well played on their end, but their lives rest on his tired eyes.

The boy beside him sits up. He leans his elbow on the little ledge by the window and rests his cheek onto his palm from the crooked angle, eyes focused on the dark expanse of road before them.

"How do you propose I do that?"

His voice is drained, face pale save for the blotches of sun burn that sprout in uneven patches along his face, particularly the sharpest point of his nose. The car swerves a tad again and Taichi refocuses on the road.

"I don't know," he says unhelpfully.

His companion makes a low groan, more sleep ridden than annoyed. With a long yawn, he rolls into describing something Taichi's half working mind can't wrap itself around with the exception of words he's heard repeated in science lectures. He feels transported, suddenly, to the back of class and even more prepared for a nap.

"I said keep me awake," Taichi grumbles haughtily, "not bore me to sleep."

The other hums, his tone as monotonous as the view. Taichi eyes from his peripheral a shock of red nodding against a muted world.

"If you have a preference, Taichi, I'm amenable."

In the last two months, he's not sure Koushirou's ever used his name before. Taichi finds it a bit strange. Not the lack of hearing it, even, but the buzz it seems to ripple with, a current he can't quite explain that rides through his body.

Everything about Koushirou is an enigma to him. Taichi's never met someone who wears a laptop to soccer camp and can't tell a pass from a dribble, but insists on taking his shifts on the field instead of working in the recreational cabin or first aid tent, out of the sun and away from the sport. He thinks about his friend, Yamato, the traitor who left him for space camp this year, and wonders if Koushirou would blend in better there, with science and physics at his fingertips instead of grass.

"Something that'll wake me up," he says finally. "Like a surprising fact, I guess. Or a scary story."

Koushirou jostles around until he's sitting completely straight. His head leans back where the adjustable headrest used to be. Taichi wonders if it's still sitting at the bottom of the lake, where he tossed it on a bet with someone a couple of summers ago. An easy fifty bucks.

"Surprising," Koushirou repeats, yawning. "Bananas are technically classified as a berry."

"No," Taichi says.

"Statistically, you're more likely to die from a vending machine than a shark attack."

"You are such a source of fun facts."

"I aim to please," Koushirou says. There's a ghost of smirk on his face and Taichi chokes on a surprise bubble of laughter in his throat.

He glances up at the rear view mirror on habit. In the far back, one of the kids has thrown his feet up against the back window, seat belt slaking enough that his head is no longer in view. Taichi's too tired still to stop just to save one kid from having all the blood rush to his head. When he looks back to the road, the rickety old camp logo flashes in his headlights.

Only ten more miles.

"Are you awake?"

"No." Taichi rubs at his eyes, holding one of them closed. Maybe he can trick them individually into thinking he's resting. His opened eye feels only slightly more alert, but the effect dives after a moment. "Got anything else?"

"Cleopatra lived closer to the moon landing than she did the construction of the great pyramids. We share fifty percent of our DNA with bananas."

"How berry interesting."

Koushirou snorts. "I'm going back to sleep."

"No more puns," Taichi promises. "Keep going, please?"

"Diamonds can be made from a combination of carbon dioxide and peanut butter. The chemistry in your brain when in love matches the patterns of a cocaine high."

"Cocaine, huh?" Taichi doesn't have the experience to compare them, but he wonder over it for a bit. Of all the little sparks and infatuations dotting through years in life. The puppy loves and cloud nines that dissipated. The only face he recalls with any sense of clarity is Sora's, but he should hope so. They're still friends. He had thought that was love, when he was eight, but he knows a little better now. He doesn't think any of them gave a feeling he could equate to more than a sugar rush. "Are you sure that's legit?"

Koushriou shrugs. "I haven't reviewed the exact paper myself, but it appears somewhat verifiable."

"Do you think it's like that?" Taichi asks. "Like, have you felt it?"

Koushriou huffs a small laugh, airy, tired. "What answer would surprise you more?"

Taichi shrugs.

Up ahead, their exit comes into view, and even though they're the only ones on the road in his line of sight, Taichi makes sure to signal the upcoming turn in advance.

He takes the exit with a wide swing. It winds around, long and high, framing a particularly darkened ditch. Taichi loves when the bus makes the loop every summer, the first rush of camp around the bend of it. Steering around it himself is even better. It feels like an adrenaline rush, like scoring the winning goal after an arduous game. He wonders if love's something like that. He doesn't know.

Koushirou is silent, unmoving, in the passenger seat. Taichi feels more awake now that the road has twists and obstacles so he lets the air between them fall still save for the snores in the back seat. He chooses to switch off the radio, an effort to end some of the white noise. All it really helps is give a platform for the wind racing about the car to hum louder in his ears.

When Koushirou speaks again, it startles him. "Theoretically, the parallels are somewhat similar…" He sounds distant, defeated. His eyes have closed again, forehead resting on the glass now. For a moment, Taichi thinks he's misconstrued the sound of snoring into a coherent sentence, because Koushirou looks to be asleep, lips parted only for puffs of breath that leave trails of fog against the window.

Taichi focuses back on the road. Everything he sees is under the beams of his own headlights. The thicket of forests overhead choke out the night sky, suffocating the moon and stars, the only source of light on this road otherwise. They're still not home, not safe. There's still miles between them and camp. He imagines plopping into bed soon, cool sheets sinking around him, embracing him. He thinks about giving in to sleep and his body aches.

He'll make it. He has to.

"They're stimulants. Psychotropic, even," Koushriou continues, muttering. This time, Taichi catches the movement of his lips in the corner of his eyes paired with a quick flutter of his lashes. "Doing things out of your nature. Seeing things that aren't there-- like misinterpreting signals for your personal confirmation bias. Chasing the feeling of being around them until you've developed a tolerance… The need for more…"

Koushirou rubs at his eyes and yawns. It must be after two, Taichi thinks. The clock in the van hasn't worked since before Taichi was a camper himself, and he's not about to grab out his cellphone now just to check. He remembers the match had ended sometime about seven. Their victory dinner had been after eight, at a restaurant on the side of the road. Wrestling the kids back into the car had been like herding cats into a bath.

"It'll die some day," Taichi says, rubbing at his own eyes. There's just a few miles now. Maybe half an hour if he drives carefully, but faster. "Love usually seems to."

Koushirou hums. Taichi's never heard anything so caught between amused and despairing before, but it's a melody he thinks will haunt him for a while yet. "Contrarily, I fear it's getting worse," he says. "The more we talk, the more onerous it is to terminate this feeling."

"Have you tried asking them out?"

Koushriou snorts, "No." His lashes flutter against his cheek. They're dark against his skin, longer, also, from this angle than Taichi's ever noticed. A smile quirks up on Koushirou's lips. "They barely know I exist."

"Try it," he suggests. "You won't know otherwise."

Koushirou sighs. His lids just barely open, his eyes as dark as the world around them. His lower lids look puffy, bruising with want to sleep.

Taichi almost misses their turn, taking the right sharper than needed. No one seems to stir. Overhead, the moon peeks through a bald spot of trees. It catches on Koushirou's hair. It looks silky, tempting to touch. Taichi pinches on the nerve between his thumb and forefinger, some pressure point he'd been told helped with tiredness. He's not sure it works.

He can feel Koushirou's gaze on him, an intensity only obscured under heavy lids. It feels, interestingly enough, familiar. "Something surprising," the other mumbles. He sounds so far away.

"Ever since fifth grade…" Koushirou trails off and lets out a short, little huff. Frustrated, tired. Taichi sympathizes. "I've been enamored with you since then."

By the time the words register coherently in Taichi's ears, Koushirou has already huddled against the door, legs hunched on the seat and arms wrapping about himself like a blanket. The even lifts of his shoulder indicate to Taichi that he's already back to sleep. He thinks he has every right to wake him up, to explain further, but Taichi doesn't exercise it.

The rest of the trip passes in mostly silence, but Taichi doesn't feel the same lull of sleep call to him. His head buzzes with half formed questions, wondering if Koushirou had meant him--or had he been thinking of someone else? Half dreaming of a person who wasn't there?

He finally pulls into the old, dilapidated shed on the front end of camp. He can't remember if it's ever had doors, but the older counselors remain stern that the van must be inside when not in use. He wonders if they can collect insurance if the garage topples over on it.

Slowly, the campers stir with loud yawns and soft murmurs. Some take a little extra coaxing to move. The kid who's legs were blocking the back widow has since fallen to the floor, laying across his teammate's sneakers. Taichi shoulders the bags of equipment as everyone else grumbles and staggers through the darkened fields, blindly following their instincts back to their cabins, to bed.

Koushrou is already half way across the field to his own cabin, laptop bag latched faithfully to his back, by the time Taichi finishes dropping off the duffel bags back to the storage shed a few feet away. He doesn't bother following or calling out.

Taichi's sheets feel cool, welcoming, when he flops into bed, but tonight they do not coax him to slumber. Clipped to his headboard, his miniature fan whirls noisily. He watches the revolution of the little blades, counting the intervals like one would imagine sheep.

It might be nerves. He's overtired, worked up by driving. Restless muscles.

He knows it's not true.

The sun drift in slowly, over the open sill, stretching along the floor boards and leaning over the edge of his bed to peck him with a morning kiss across his cheek and Taichi hasn't stopped thinking about a boy, who, by possible admission, is in love with him.

The knowledge sparks something in his chest, a feeling both foreign and familiar in a way that rustles his feathers and frustrates his mind. It rattles on the tip of his tongue, refuses to dive off--

Adrenaline.

It feels like an adrenaline high.

[ad-smr]

why it is not good to being overly attached

I used to think that I am not a person that has a tendency to romanticize places or people or memories. I like to take a pictures when I am traveling, but the reason is more into the possibility to upload it to my stories. I have no habit of scrolling back through my google photos to re-create a memory behind every places that I visited. For me, passing through a place for just a day (or even hours!) would be just... passing through a place. Yes it is nice to tell someone that I’ve been visiting place A, place B, place Z, and more and more while also sharing your impression about it. But, do I called it a memory? 

For me, for the past two and a half year in Stockholm, some places are more valuable compared to any landmarks that I visited around Europe. I grew some emotional attachments to those places because of various reasons. It could be just a street that I frequently passing by every time I went outside for a pokemon hunting. Or it could be a super cheap supermarket behind my neighborhood that I just discovered after lived there for one and a half year. How could they are so memorable? Because for me, they created stories. A story that is so personal for me, which is why visiting these places again some days in the future, could pinch many parts of my heart in a hurtful way. Oh, yes, these places brought up too many memories.

It all started in a street in the back side of my house, which by 15 minutes walking could take you to the Sundbybergs centrum. It is a street that I usually passed by if I was still addicted to Pokemon go - a kind of game that requires you to go outside to catch many pokemons in term of finishing quests. Walked by this street was so nice, especially in the summer. In one part, the street is located right in front of the graveyard, but it never makes this street spooky. I also passed by this street if I was too energetic to travel by bike (even though that hilly conditions sometimes made me questioning my decision). A street will be just a street, if one particular person did not take part in the story. 

The last time I went there, where he was already lived 10.000 km away, I still felt that little pinch in my heart because it replayed some non-important moments with him. It is a same street where we spent two hours of pokemon chasing in a 10 degree temperature and with a condition where we were totally put a high boundaries between us. We talked many things about nothing. It is also a same street where we ended up cycling through it around midnight, after tried to avoid it but thanks google for screwed up the plan. It is also a street where we took our last autumn photo together.

The story continue to a safe house called Akalla. It is a house that rented out together by my four (used to be five) friends in Stockholm. It took 30 minutes cycling from Rissne but, you know, I was that lazy so I usually went there by bus. I must say that Akalla was considerably one of the best thing in my entire life in Stockholm. I did not manage to visit this place again last time since they were already moved out and the house owner kept it back. Akalla, for me, was one of the reason why I am still sane until now.

It was a place where I could runaway from him every time we got into problems. Which means, I went there frequently. All of the house members already declared me as the fifth (or sixth) occupants of Akalla. It was a place where I could laugh and say anything without being judged. It was also a place where I could get the needed support from people that actually never intended to give one. It was a place where I could be totally happy and forget all my troubles with him. 

Then I remembered that I used to hate the studio space in the A building. I hate it because it is sooo dry, even during the winter climate. There is something wrong with the heating system in the building and everyone was complaining too. However, nothing changed until my last semester in that building. Flash back to my first year in Stockholm, we (as it means me and some other Indonesian students maybe three to five people), liked to stay in the D building after class. The main purpose: to study more. The reality, it was just our excuse to avoid being alone at home. We usually spent too much time there, at least until midnight even we still had an early class tomorrow morning.

At some point, D building turned into a place that I could not wait to visit ASAP every evening. Of course, and just because, he waited for me there. During a very happy moment between us, meeting him after a long and stressful discussion with the group mates, was a time that I always looking for. We changed our habit to stay until late into went back home early to prepare our dinner. We also decided to spend much longer time in his room, talked about everything that still means anything. That was the time before some errors occurred in this relationship. That was the time when I did not realized that I started to grow a feeling for him. And his too.

So... it brought this reminisce to the most hurtful place that, I believe, I cannot visit again in the future without seeing a glimpse of him every time I close my eyes. My home. Its kitchen. Its bathroom. His room. Mine. 

There were many times during the last two years where I felt that I could not stand more to stay in this house. It could be one of the days where we had that endless arguments and silent treatments. For a range of three days till two months, there were too many moments where we decided to avoid each other's presence - totally. I could hear his morning alarms (that always rang repeatedly every 30 minutes and failed to wake him up) and heard him singing under the shower, knowing he was there and perfectly alive, without even ran to each other. And it was a worst feeling where you decided to avoid someone that you cared the most. But on the other occasion, this house turns into home. That was the very first moment I understand the differences between a house and a home. Absolutely, because there was him. The only reason that made all things happened inside this house as a projection of my future home, which is ended up as a sloppy imagination of mine. 

Since the very first time I entered the front door last week, zillions of memories dancing in my eyes. Thousand of unimportant details that were unconsciously stored in my brain particles suddenly play random short videos, just like when you swiping your instagram stories. His smile when his eyes caught mine, in the middle of his cooking session in the kitchen. Our laugh when we cut each other hair in our super small bathroom, since we were not rich enough to spend money on a professional barber. A six hours discussion about Tenet and parallel universe. His sleepyhead expression in the morning. His last hug that made me feel totally safe because I deluded myself that there will be always someone that protect me. 

Those reminiscence hurts me in a way that suddenly turned all my memories in Stockholm into a bad one.

Because he was always there, on my side, in almost every moments when I was wandering around Stockholm. Even in the farthest forest in the Djugården island and a random naked beach in, oh I don’t remember the place’s name. So now, I get my lesson. Never attached to someone or places too much. This is because, just because, if it does not end up well.. everything could be hurtful for you. And what is sadder than when your good memories turned into a bad one because of an unworthy person?

[alleabelle]

War Doctor

Quotes from War Doctor: Surgery on the Front Line by David Nott

It stems partly from the desire to use my knowledge as a surgeon to help people who are experiencing the worst that humanity can throw at them, and partly from the thrill of just being in those terrible places, of living in a liminal zone where most people have neither been nor want to go.

And wars most affect those who are worst equipped to deal with them. 

The dictionary definition of the word “vocation” talks of a “special urge” or of a “calling”—but there are many reasons why people choose to become doctors, and most of them have little to do with altruism. [...] The idea of altruism being in pure opposition to selfishness is nonsense. [...] The paradox of extreme altruism - that it is simultaneously selfish - finds a parallel in the fact that most surgeons take up surgery because they find it exciting.

p. 7: It is a common mistake not to assume the worst.

p.15: I rationalize it by thinking, Well, maybe that Taliban guy or this ISIS fighter will find out his life was saved by a Western, Christian doctor, and that might make him change his outlook. Some people may consider this naive, but that’s how it is.

p. 28: Surgery in the 1980s was a trial of sleep deprivation, of how much you could take before you broke.

p. 44-45: The anesthesiologist and I discussed the option of surgery. We had a choice—operate and try to save his life, or not operate and watch him die. There were no other patients—it was about three in the morning—but we had very limited resources and it was freezing. We looked at the patient and nodded at each other, then took him into the operating room to do what was necessary to stop the bleeding. Once he was under anesthesia and being infused with the only pint of blood we had, I opened his abdomen.

p. 52: I did not know them or their past lives, bu they were very vulnerable and it is the vulnerability of human life that - when it is stripped down to its basics - makes us all the same.

p. 70-71: Usually in this situation the correct surgical procedure is to pack the abdomen as quickly as possible to try to staunch the hemorrhage. I had no time to do this—I had to turn off the faucet as rapidly as possible. I had two options: either open up the chest and put a clamp on the distal thoracic aorta, or delve down as rapidly as I could to feel the aorta with my fingers just below the diaphragm and press it against the lower thoracic vertebra, like pinching the end of a hose. Once I’d got into the abdomen, I chose the latter technique. I called out to my assistant, Squadron Leader David O’Reilly, to pack the abdomen while I squeezed the aorta.

p. 71: Einstein’s theory of relativity can be applied to all sorts of things, including the transference of kinetic energy from a bullet to someone’s body. Einstein’s insight was to show that kinetic energy is equal to half the mass times the velocity squared—the heavier the bullet, the more energy is transferred into the organ that it hits. If the velocity of the bullet is doubled, then the energy released is quadrupled. And when a high-energy bullet from, say, a sniper’s rifle hits a target, then the bullet tends to tumble inside the body. It tumbles because its center of gravity is well behind the point, and as it slows down it becomes unstable. This tumbling effect dissipates huge amounts of energy, so if it hits an organ of high resistance such as the liver, which is enclosed in a layer of connective tissue called Glisson’s capsule, then it can literally blow the liver apart. This is what had happened to our patient.

p. 84: To get the best out of the team around you, you need to radiate serenity. The whole team responds to the lead taken by the operating surgeon. Being aggressive does not help. You are one member of a team who are all working together to achieve the same goal. The person holding the needle is just one small part of the bigger picture.

p. 106: Then the nurse who was with me put his hand into the uterus as well, and lo and behold, the head of the baby popped free. The nurse smiled at me behind his mask and said, “Vide,” which in French means vacuum. He had ingeniously slipped his fingers behind the baby’s head, allowing some air to get between the head and the pelvis and break the seal. It’s a trick I will never forget.

p. 124: One of the rules in resuscitation is that if a patient is conscious and can speak, then he has enough arterial pressure to supply the brain, even though he may have a low blood pressure from hemorrhage.

p. 127: This was the future, I believed—not just parachuting into a war zone, saving the odd life, and then going home; it was about providing a legacy, leaving my temporary colleagues better equipped to deal with an ongoing situation that they themselves could not walk away from.

p. 147: If you can feel a radial pulse, then the pressure is around 90 mmHg systolic. This is sufficient to ensure that all the major organs such as the brain, heart, liver, and kidneys will be well supplied with blood. Even if the patient is significantly injured, if he is in this category then he is P2. The P1 injured are those with obvious difficulty in breathing and who do not have a radial pulse pressure. These are the patients who need urgent care and attention, although everyone requires constant review as those who are P2 may suddenly become P1.

p. 179: It’s just a terrible pity that sometimes the learning has to come from such dreadful mistakes, mistakes that are tattooed onto our psyche.

p. 181: We were able to remove his drains and send him home on day six. Incredibly, a boy with a 100 percent mortality risk a week earlier became the only person in Aleppo to have had a trauma Whipple operation, and we could claim a 100 percent success record for one of the most complex surgical procedures in the book.

p. 189: In London, there were any number of people who could carry out the operations I was doing, and do them just as well if not better. In the UK I might save one person’s life a month, whereas in Syria it had been ten a day. What the hell was I doing here?

p. 205: It wasn’t a logical decision, it was based purely on emotion—compassion for her and anger at the forces of war ranged against her. I was so sick of seeing badly injured children that I could not bear to see another one and stand idly by. Staying with her was a pointless act of defiance against the warmongers, but it would have been impossible to do otherwise. The nature of the risks I was taking had grown without my really noticing. I was prepared to die, and I would rather have died than lived with myself knowing I’d left her alone.

p. 210: I had felt adrift, swimming alone far out at sea, in increasingly dangerous waters, and it was as if someone had thrown me a lifeline.

p. 240: Through much of my life I had felt alone. It was completely irrational that the person who showed me so much love, showed me the way to live a different kind of life, should be the person I was most angry with. I had never felt such love for anyone before, yet I seemed to want to push her away.

p. 251: I have always had a tendency to focus on specific tasks and pursue them relentlessly, sometimes flying in the face of all logic or common sense.

p. 275: Love, like surgery, isn’t always tidy, and it isn’t always easy.

p. 277: Early on it became clear that David’s humanitarian work is an intrinsic part of who he is. Although I found this hard at first, having worried so desperately when he was working in Syria, I fully support him in what he does—to do otherwise would not only deny David his passion but also deprive the world of his skills, which are so desperately needed.

p. 278: Surgery hasn’t had the profile of other health issues such as communicable or preventable diseases. Yet surgically treatable conditions kill 17 million people each year; more than tuberculosis, malaria, and HIV/AIDS combined, according to a study in The Lancet. We therefore seek to promote the skillful and safe practice of surgery in low-resource or war-torn settings as well as advocate for the rights of the medical victims of conflict and the doctors who strive to care for them.

[jonasmaurer]

How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!)

Tips for setting up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike) with seat height, seat position, handlebar positions, and how to clip and unclip your pedals. 

I’ve been participating in an exciting Instagram advice mission lately: helping reader friends set up their Peloton bikes. I’ve had the bike for two years but have taught cycling classes for 11 years now (WHAT), so quite a few people have reached out to me for help on how to set up their bikes. (One week, I helped four people set up their bikes via photos and video!) I feel like Peloton does a lot of things right, but when I first got the bike myself, I was so thankful that I was an advanced spinner, because otherwise I would have felt lost with the initial process. I didn’t feel like the setup video was very thorough or helpful. They breezed through a lot of the details but thankfully, I was easily able to set it up myself.

I thought I’d make a video here for my friends who have recently purchased a Peloton or another spin bike or need to adjust their current settings.

The right settings can make such a huge difference in how your ride feels and can also help to protect injury and pain in your knees, ankles, wrists, and low back. As always, be smart when you’re setting up any type of fitness equipment. Ask for someone to help you if you need it!

How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!)

First, you’ll want to plug in the bike and get it connected to Wifi. From here, you’ll create a profile or log into an existing profile. This part is pretty easy! Next, you’ll need to personalize your bike settings by adjusting the seat height, position, and handlebars.

Watch the video for all of my tips on how to adjust the Peloton bike (or any spin bike) here:

Some tips: 

– Watch your fingers! Make sure they’re never on the portion of the bike that will be moving so you don’t pinch yourself

– Loosen each knob entirely before adjusting positions

– Tighten the knobs to support your body. Make sure they’re fulling tightened before riding.

Tips for settings:

Seat height:

– For seat height, a nice starting point is to line the bike seat height up with your hip bone. This is not always an accurate end point, but a good starting point; you can adjust from here. You may need to lower the seat a couple of settings, depending on how straight your leg is once you clip into the bike.

– Clip into the bike and fully extend one leg (the other leg is bent). Your straight leg should be ALMOST totally straight and your foot is flexed (parallel to the floor). There should be a tiny bend at the knee to protect your knee as you ride. Make sure your knee isn’t extremely bent here. Look for a small bend at the knee and ensure your leg isn’t totally locked out.

Seat position:

– For seat position, this is how far forward or back the seat will be. You’ll extend one leg again and bend the other, and from here, take a look at your bent knee. Your bent knee should be directly above the ankle on that side. If your knee too far forward or back, you will absolutely feel this in your knee. (This easy tweak can making riding so much more comfortable!) If you knee is lined up PAST your ankle, scoot your seat back a bit. If your knee is too far back, scoot your seat forward.

Handlebar position:

– For handlebar position, this is more of a personal preference than anything. You’ll want to make sure that the handlebars are high enough so that you aren’t slouching down and that you can maintain a long spine while you’re riding. Also make sure they aren’t too high so that you can keep your shoulders down and relaxed as you ride.

How the heck to unclip and clip into the bike:

– The Peloton uses Look Delta clips. I feel like SPD is more common, but sometimes you can change out the type of clips on your shoes if you already own a pair of cycling shoes. To clip into the bike, you’ll want the hard plastic part to slide and click into the base. You’ll hear an audible click and know you’re locked in. Sometimes it helps to put some bodyweight into your shoe as you clip in.

– To unclip can be rather tricky, especially with new shoes. Ideally, you’ll point your toe down (make sure that pedal is in the down position) as you rotate from your ankle to unclip. TBH, I feel like this is unsafe for newbie riders since you can tweak your knee with the external ankle rotation. Instead, I recommend taking the shoes off while you’re still on the bike, leaving them clipped in. Once you’re off the bike, you can press the shoe so it’s toe-down and pull the heel towards you to unclip. (Watch the video above for exactly how to do this!)

Peloton gear I love:

Light weights

Water bottle

Sweat towel

Cleaning wipes

Screen wipes

I think that’s it! If you guys need help with your setup, send me a pic on Instagram and I’d be happy to take a look.

Are you a spin fan? Fellow Peloton friends, leave your leaderboard name in the comments! I’m quadhangover

xo

Gina

*Friendly note here that this isn’t sponsored in any way. You can check out my review of the bike here and of the app here. I also created a sample Peloton workout plan here. 

The post How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!) appeared first on The Fitnessista.

How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!) published first on https://olimpsportnutritionde.tumblr.com/

[anamorales]

How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!)

Tips for setting up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike) with seat height, seat position, handlebar positions, and how to clip and unclip your pedals. 

I’ve been participating in an exciting Instagram advice mission lately: helping reader friends set up their Peloton bikes. I’ve had the bike for two years but have taught cycling classes for 11 years now (WHAT), so quite a few people have reached out to me for help on how to set up their bikes. (One week, I helped four people set up their bikes via photos and video!) I feel like Peloton does a lot of things right, but when I first got the bike myself, I was so thankful that I was an advanced spinner, because otherwise I would have felt lost with the initial process. I didn’t feel like the setup video was very thorough or helpful. They breezed through a lot of the details but thankfully, I was easily able to set it up myself.

I thought I’d make a video here for my friends who have recently purchased a Peloton or another spin bike or need to adjust their current settings.

The right settings can make such a huge difference in how your ride feels and can also help to protect injury and pain in your knees, ankles, wrists, and low back. As always, be smart when you’re setting up any type of fitness equipment. Ask for someone to help you if you need it!

How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!)

First, you’ll want to plug in the bike and get it connected to Wifi. From here, you’ll create a profile or log into an existing profile. This part is pretty easy! Next, you’ll need to personalize your bike settings by adjusting the seat height, position, and handlebars.

Watch the video for all of my tips on how to adjust the Peloton bike (or any spin bike) here:

Some tips: 

– Watch your fingers! Make sure they’re never on the portion of the bike that will be moving so you don’t pinch yourself

– Loosen each knob entirely before adjusting positions

– Tighten the knobs to support your body. Make sure they’re fulling tightened before riding.

Tips for settings:

Seat height:

– For seat height, a nice starting point is to line the bike seat height up with your hip bone. This is not always an accurate end point, but a good starting point; you can adjust from here. You may need to lower the seat a couple of settings, depending on how straight your leg is once you clip into the bike.

– Clip into the bike and fully extend one leg (the other leg is bent). Your straight leg should be ALMOST totally straight and your foot is flexed (parallel to the floor). There should be a tiny bend at the knee to protect your knee as you ride. Make sure your knee isn’t extremely bent here. Look for a small bend at the knee and ensure your leg isn’t totally locked out.

Seat position:

– For seat position, this is how far forward or back the seat will be. You’ll extend one leg again and bend the other, and from here, take a look at your bent knee. Your bent knee should be directly above the ankle on that side. If your knee too far forward or back, you will absolutely feel this in your knee. (This easy tweak can making riding so much more comfortable!) If you knee is lined up PAST your ankle, scoot your seat back a bit. If your knee is too far back, scoot your seat forward.

Handlebar position:

– For handlebar position, this is more of a personal preference than anything. You’ll want to make sure that the handlebars are high enough so that you aren’t slouching down and that you can maintain a long spine while you’re riding. Also make sure they aren’t too high so that you can keep your shoulders down and relaxed as you ride.

How the heck to unclip and clip into the bike:

– The Peloton uses Look Delta clips. I feel like SPD is more common, but sometimes you can change out the type of clips on your shoes if you already own a pair of cycling shoes. To clip into the bike, you’ll want the hard plastic part to slide and click into the base. You’ll hear an audible click and know you’re locked in. Sometimes it helps to put some bodyweight into your shoe as you clip in.

– To unclip can be rather tricky, especially with new shoes. Ideally, you’ll point your toe down (make sure that pedal is in the down position) as you rotate from your ankle to unclip. TBH, I feel like this is unsafe for newbie riders since you can tweak your knee with the external ankle rotation. Instead, I recommend taking the shoes off while you’re still on the bike, leaving them clipped in. Once you’re off the bike, you can press the shoe so it’s toe-down and pull the heel towards you to unclip. (Watch the video above for exactly how to do this!)

Peloton gear I love:

Light weights

Water bottle

Sweat towel

Cleaning wipes

Screen wipes

I think that’s it! If you guys need help with your setup, send me a pic on Instagram and I’d be happy to take a look.

Are you a spin fan? Fellow Peloton friends, leave your leaderboard name in the comments! I’m quadhangover

xo

Gina

*Friendly note here that this isn’t sponsored in any way. You can check out my review of the bike here and of the app here. I also created a sample Peloton workout plan here. 

The post How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!) appeared first on The Fitnessista.

How to set up your Peloton bike (or any spin bike!) published first on https://immigrationways.tumblr.com/