#a life in the day

[eqnygma]

"know that, when I'm braver, it's 'cause I learned it from you."

[springybreak]

We lay here for years or for hours

Thrown here or found

To freeze or to thaw

So long, we'd become the flowers

Two corpses we were

Two corpses I saw

And they'd find us in a week

When the weather gets hot

After the insects have made their claim

I'd be home with you

I'd be home with you

[margothecreator]

The Magicians [S3:E5] ---A Life in the Day

"The beauty of all life??"

[asofterhibou]

continuing train of thought like two weeks later: in the same vein as the s4 rambles was thinking about how this and also @prettyboysdontlookatexplosions' fic looks like the road to heaven was reminding me that my favorite version of the mosaic years/mosaic fic are the ones that also treat the mosaic as that third option between escaping into fantasy or "growing up" by resigning yourself to the shittiness of being an adult/the real world; where the mosaic isn't the secret door that actually worked this time, not destiny or paradise or a miracle cure, but where the point is that Quentin and Eliot are friends who walk through a door and find an empty clearing with a shack and an impossible puzzle, and everything else they build themselves. it's not there waiting for them, the mosaic/the quest/the gods/the universe/Jane Chatwin's time magic doesn't give them that. in the beginning they're clearly not having a good time, they're snippy and Eliot's drinking and Quentin wants to leave, they have a fight about Quentin wanting to leave! they make the life in spite of the quest. they plant the garden and paint the cottage and get flowerboxes and furniture and fall in love and have a family, and work on a puzzle/quest and fail at it every day, and keep trying the next day, and do it again for fifty years, and it's good because they make it good.

[thomarama]

Made this for myself, after moving to a new city & yearning for home. A reminder to try and settle where I am, while I’m here.

[thisburie]

A Life in the Day lives so large in my brain and heart it's crazy to realize the mosaic is only part of an episode with many other characters doing their own things.

I swear I remember it like a feature length movie devoted to their love. It had more impact on me than any movie I've ever seen. Titanic doesn't have shit on this epic love story.

[nics42]

Eliot: We could be done tomorrow for all you know. We can't just throw away all this time we've invested.... You want to live your life, live it here.

Quentin: What is that supposed to mean?

Eliot: You know exactly what that means.

Quentin: [intentionally kicks over the tiles] Oops.

One of the things I love about this whole scene from a filmmaking perspective is how many ways it can be interpreted.

Clearly it's an argument, but what is the end goal for each character? The next portion of the montage has Quentin getting closer to Arielle. Many say Eliot was pushing Quentin to date. Eliot is sleeping which insinuates that it may not have happened if Eliot had been available. As in, Eliot shuts down Quentin's "overthinking," basically shutting down the possibility of their hook-up becoming more. Because Eliot is unavailable, he pursues Arielle. Then, after Arielle is gone, they are lifelong platonic partners. I think this was the writers' intention, especially since old Quentin says he solved the mosaic "with a friend."

But, I also think the writers screwed up what should have been a beautiful queer love story end game. Looking at the exact same scene, Eliot says what seems like two completely conflicting statements. 'Live your life here' and 'we could be gone tomorrow.' He expects Quentin to understand this dichotomy. Why? Because I think they were already together; the anniversary sex wasn't just a fling; and Quentin has been stuck in limbo, unable to do anything because he's waiting to go back yet time is passing at the Mosaic. Quentin is giving up on the quest, and Eliot is annoyed. Eliot wants Quentin to invest in living life to its fullest where they are, yet to also take their quest seriously. So, their polyamorous selves get a wife and have a kid and live the beauty of life.

That makes the most sense to me. But, I love scenes like this that can be interpreted any way the audience likes.

[sanguispluvia]

About Arielle/Quentin/Eliot

A lot of fanfictions and fantheories play with the idea that Arielle, Quentin and Eliot might have been a throuple and I don't hate that idea but they couldn't have been, at least not sexually.

Eliot says "You had a wife" so they must have officially married.

Fillorian marriages have that magical clause about not being able to be with other people sexually.

Sure, Kings and Queens get to marry twice but they weren't kings at the mosaic so Quentin couldn't have married Eliot.

So yeah, Arielle/Quentin/Eliot (in a purely sexual context) couldn't have happened.

I rest my case.

[kythwena]

“Besides, we agreed I get to die first.” “We agreed no such thing.” “I’m afraid I must insist,” Eliot says, teasing and deadly serious all at once. “I couldn’t bear it any other way.” Quentin looks at him, and he’s sure his face is positively nauseating to behold, dripping with adoration and love, but he can’t control it. Not now, not after everything. “You leave the heavier burden to me.” “You’re the stronger of the two of us,” Eliot says, picking up Quentin’s hand and kissing it once, very gently, on the palm. “You can bear it.” The Way a Fool Would Do by Rizandace @nellie-elizabeth Collection: Parts of One Whole - The Magicians Soulmate Collection The Magicians | S03E05: A Life in the Day (2018)

[eliotqueliot]

Puzzling It Out

For the May 31 prompt: Free Day! for @duckprintspress May Trope Mayhem

Fandom: The Magicians (TV); Relationship: Eliot Waugh/Quentin Coldwater

Warnings for canon-typical language and grief/regret; the "canonical character death" is Eliot's death in the Mosaic Timeline.

Summary: A story in verse. Eliot’s POV, reflecting on their lives at the Mosaic, as well as what happened in the throne room afterward. Yes, their hearts were broken then—but in the course of these reflections, Eliot realizes a few things. And makes plans. So—there's hope!

Also posted on AO3—link at the end.

Puzzling It Out

Each night I dream of that puzzle—

fruits of the orchard, often our child—

but always that puzzle with you on it.

Crawling the playing board or pacing with me;

standing by, or perched on the ladder,

perusing the journal to compare solutions, or design new ones.

But always you, you, standing there,

frowning or excited for some new possibility,

or on your hands and knees working the tiles,

gazing up at me with mischief from under that fall of long hair.

“We work”—our hearts in harmony, more often than we fight,

but I’ll take both: anything to get a glimpse of you while you’re still mine,

sharing peaches and plums, peaches and plums,

that sweet tang, the juice running down your chin,

all over your fingers—licking it off,

tasting your sweet lips, your tart bite, the witty sarcasm, the fond embrace,

throwing you over my shoulder or lifting you high like an airplane on my long legs.

Your snark, your wit, your kindness.

Your muscles rippling on a hot, shirtless day.

I want to continue that life with nothing but you:

no other place I ever felt at home or happy.

But you were my home, you and our son.

Our whole lives stretched out, and we lived each day fiercely

with love, even through the fights.

And then it all ended: not with my death,

though I’m sorry I grieved you—

but with your decision to start over—

without asking what I wanted.

(To be fair, I was dead and couldn’t answer.)

You arranged for a letter to reach High Queen Margo,

arriving in time, with all the information she needed

to stop our quest from ever happening.

She arrived holding the key it took us a lifetime to earn—

a lifetime of love, of happiness—

our lives together, just us. An adventure

there’s no need to go on, now—

we stopped before the clock, before we ever felt magic again

or tasted each other’s lips a second time,

our first time alone following the threesome.

Everything we know says it never happened:

everything we feel says it did.

Was it a dream? Was it real?

Why did you want to stop us?

Did you want to escape a life of toil? Me?

Did you think that we’d just start over, fresh,

even though I don’t know how to do this?

Even though you erased the one time we had enough time

for me to learn how to work past my fears, to believe it was possible,

to trust that someone could actually love me?

I love you so much that I’m fucking terrified,

and I don’t know how to get there,

how to get home from inside this tangled wood,

never having lived those lives I loved so much,

where I loved you so much (so many times)—

where the certainty of your love

was so much greater than all my fears.

I want so badly to touch your face, but this is the world

in which I have no framework, no certainty,

nothing but my love for you that was never returned,

not for years, not for flirting or threesomes,

not as far as I ever knew.

And my heart stutters trying to speak—

Even though all I want to do is go home—

home to you, to our peaceful lives of purpose, our child,

the beauty of all life

(it’s you, you, you)—

But I never can, because home doesn’t exist,

not anymore. Because I said “I love you, but.”

And you said, “Okay.”

And Okay, I’d give anything to take back what else I said,

all those lies and excuses, just me running away—

but I’ll be honest. I was happy. We were happy.

We loved each other. We lived good, beautiful lives.

And I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to die.

But I died loving you. Watching you, awed by your beauty even then,

even though you didn’t know it. I died knowing I was loved.

That we’d made it. I’d beat the odds. Lived a good life. Been a good dad.

Husband to the most wonderful man in the world. In any world.

A task so hard it seemed impossible in our lives before.

I never could have done it without you. Without that quest.

Our lives dedicated to endless combinations of art.

Focusing on something else

so I could pretend not to notice love sneaking up on me.

But I noticed. I noticed. I savored every minute.

I loved you so much. Long before I could say.

Long after I stopped being able to say, in this place we are now.

A quest so hard I’d have said it was impossible:

true love, happiness. A family.

We solved it together.

It was the miracle I never dared to hope for.

I died loving you. Being loved. Old. Home. Happy.

And now…it’s nothing but a memory.

A secret shared between us. But even we don’t dare to speak of it anymore.

If you’d asked me, love, before you sent that letter . . .

I didn’t want to come back. Not ever.

Not to be separated from you like this.

Not to have that hard uphill climb

that I might never achieve again, not with all these odds stacked against me—

two royal marriages to contend with, our fucked-up fairy overlords,

alcoholism, the burdens of the crown—

my inability to speak my heart.

(Your ongoing pull toward Alice Quinn.)

My paralyzing fear. Jealousy.

All the things, reasonable and un-,

that have separated us once again,

stranded on different worlds:

you on Earth, and I in Fillory.

But, love, I’ve been puzzling this out.

I’ve had time to think.

To sort out not what’s possible,

but what’s important—enough to make it happen.

I have a plan.

There are keys left on this quest.

And I’m not a king any longer.

Let’s find the next one together, shall we?

You know you want to.

I have a flying boat…

for that boat quest you always wanted to go on together?

This time, I promise you:

together, we’ll find one more key:

and on the way…

I’ll unlock my heart and say

Yes.

[28whitepeonies]

Born in Doncaster, Tomlinson was part of the boy band One Direction, who sold more than 70 million records worldwide. After they split in 2016, he launched his solo career and returned as a judge to The X Factor, the show that launched the band. He has a son, Freddie, six, from a previous relationship with the stylist Briana Jungwirth, and lives in north London.

I’m not an early riser. When I was touring with One Direction, I used to wake up at 4pm as the adrenaline of being on stage and after-show partying meant staying up until 3am was normal.

I’ve been touring solo all year and the post-show energy is still intense, but I’m out of bed by midday now.

If I’m not touring, Doncaster is where my heart is, but I split my time between my house in north London and LA, where my son lives.

The first thing I do every day is have a strong coffee. I love a full English but I’m lazy, so I’ll probably have a bowl of cereal.

I’m very good at just watching shit TV all day, but if I’m trying to be productive I like to inspire myself by watching interviews with other artists I admire, like Arctic Monkeys or Liam Gallagher. It’s dead interesting hearing the way they think.

If I’m having a lazy day, I’m not gonna lie, I rate Bargain Hunt. I love it when someone pays well over the odds. I’ve not been invited to the celebrity version yet but if my career starts winding down one day, who knows? If I’m writing or recording, I’ll never start a session before 2pm. I’ve learnt not to get too carried away when a tune gains momentum. Sometimes you think it’s a f***ing banger, then you come back to it three days later and it’s not quite as good as you remember.

There’s a different sort of pressure being a solo artist, and the lows are lower on your own. In One Direction we made decisions collectively, but now it’s all on me. That also means the highs are higher. This year I did a concert in Milan in front of 34,000 fans. The adulation was almost overwhelming, but I could take all the credit — not just one fifth.

For lunch, I love a tuna sandwich with salad cream — not mayo — and some prawn cocktail crisps on the side. I’m a shit cook. I’ve survived on microwave meals for years, but I do feel sorry for my son — he must be sick to death of cheesy pasta.

I never work too long away from LA, so I see Freddie as much as I can. After my LA gig he came on stage and played the drums, which he loved. I think he assumes that it’s normal for everyone’s dad to tour the world performing.

Being a father has changed me but because my mum used to work nights and I was the oldest, the responsibility fell to me to feed, dress and bathe my younger siblings, so I’ve already had a parenting crash course. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t challenging, but it’s so rewarding too.

Social media has been really important for connecting to my fans, but I’ve got a funny relationship with it. It can be a toxic place and I’ve had some unhinged messages sliding into my DMs. I can’t keep up with these people posting 20 photos a day on Instagram, though, as all I’m doing is watching Bargain Hunt and that’s not that interesting.

If I’m performing in the evening, I have a double vodka and Red Bull to calm my nerves. When I was in One Direction, that pre-show ritual made me feel like a rock star. It just gives you such a great f***ing feeling on stage. I’d love to say I don’t get more nervous if I know Harry [Styles] or any of the other boys are in the crowd, but I do. You want to give your best.

When I come off stage I need five minutes to decompress, but I’m still buzzing so normally a big group of us will go out. I won’t be touring like this for ever, but while I am I want to have all the fun I can. That usually ends at about 3am with me crawling into my pitch-black bunk on my tour bus before we start the whole process all over again the next day.

Tomlinson’s album Faith in the Future is out on Friday on BMG

Words of wisdom

Best advice I was given

Always be a student of music

Advice I’d give

Have faith that if you’re not happy with where you are, eventually you’ll be all right

What I wish I’d known

Make the most of the lack of responsibility that youth brings, as being young won’t last for ever

[walkingnightmare]

“thats the bit you never understand.”

“then help me understand”

“I fell in love”

“oh”

[springybreak]

small sweet hug 💗

(i miss them more than life)

[isahowdy]

this moment from work has lasted in my head for months and i think its finally time to draw it out

[marlynnofmany]

OMG the backstory behind the whole boop thing is amazing.

[doctorcurdlejr]

I can be normal about things. Don't look at my blog.