#and bringing the analogy together i really have listened to his music to help me sleep a few times

[orcelito]

Ok so I was wondering like

Top 0.005% of listeners. That's Pretty Damn Small. But I was wondering Just how small...

357.1k monthly listeners

0.005% of 357.1k is... just under 18...

Guys. I'm within the top 20 listeners for IAMX. Period. 🫣

[austincharcoal]

OCTOBER 2023 MEDITATION LOG

this was inspired by an assignment in my english 101 class. it prompted us to watch/read some mainstream articles/vids about meditation and try meditating for 3 days in a row, then write about it.

Fri, Sep 29    1:05am           Watched the Light Watkins TedX video. Interest was piqued when he said that meditation brings a deeper rest than is possible in sleep. Then he went on and on about the difference in biological age when you meditate. Excited to try more rigorous meditation schedule. Meditated 1:35-1:45am, was really nice. Came close to falling asleep a couple times, I am very tired. Felt grateful to be living in the city hearing rain sounds on the street.

Sat, Sep 30   9:01pm           Took a break from anatomy notes & electronic music to meditate 10 mins. Had a hard time keeping my mind off [redacted]. The things that were difficult then would be easier now that I’ve matured and relaxed a bit. But [redacted].

Sun, Oct 1     10:38am        Tried to do 10 min meditation during AA meeting but had to poop after like 4 mins. Did 10 full mins after meeting ended. It’s easier in the mornings, but I can feel I have lost the groove to a large degree. Still, morning meditation is simpler. By the evening my brain is usually in full pleasure-seeking mode. Mornings I’m usually reeling a bit from soreness and stiffness.

Mon, Oct 2    8:45pm           Did 10 mins sitting up. It’s wild how my body is aware that it’s tired but my mind ignores it, until I try to meditate sitting up and have to fight off sleep over and over. Maybe I should turn in early tonight. When I was awake, I was releasing thoughts about food and women, as usual. Laughed a bit to myself remembering how excited [redacted] was to find the “hidden veggies” pasta recipe on TikTok.

Tue, Oct 3     1:19pm           Late start today. Brewed coffee then laid down to meditate before drinking it. Lot of sexy thoughts bouncing around! Hard to bring my racing mind down today. Probably because I didn’t sleep well. This is somehow becoming both a mediation and a sleep log.

Wed, Oct 4    9:40am           10 min meditation during morning meeting.

Thu, Oct 5     12:28pm        Had been sinking into phone-greyout, scrolling haze, absolute oblivion, and needed a break. 10 min meditation was the only thing that could work. Counted breaths for most of the 10 mins, after english prof. explained during class that counting breaths is the important part of '20 breaths' meditation. It def helped during 10 min meditation. Leg pain was distracting so toward the end started stretching a bit. Feel refreshed and ready to sit down for some studying before work.

Fri, Oct 6        11:52am         Watched the Andy Puddicombe Ted Talk. I liked his analogy about knowing you have a loose tooth and continuing to mess with it even though you’re in pain. Meditated for 10 mins. Feel less overwhelmed about how many things I need to do this afternoon. I’m calmer and more apt to work through them in an organized manner without resorting to distractions. Thought about what to say to [redacted], thought about doing dishes and stretching and listening to new Drake album and taking anatomy notes and making a doctor’s appointment. Tried to recenter and focus on breaths a few times.

Sat, Oct 7      10:30am        Meditated during morning meeting.

Sun, Oct 8     9:51am           Meditated during morning meeting. Thought about my plans for the day (going to NYC to have dinner with my aunt), thought about my mom and my grandma, thought about the family counselor Dr. Prakash who taught me to meditate in 4th grade. Used breath counting to help 'let go' of thoughts and return to quiet mind.

Mon, Oct 9    9:50am           Meditated during morning meeting but was kinda drifting in and out of sleep.

                        8:45pm           Went to [redacted]. It got kinda intense but [redacted]. Decided to decompress by meditating together for 10 minutes. It was beautiful and memorable.

Tue, Oct 10   2:10pm           Read ½ of NYT meditation article then set 10 min timer to meditate. Lots of thoughts running through my head, I can be so obsessive about personal stuff. Was good to have a break from that, even though I didn’t really want the break, I wanted to keep obsessing. Post-break though, I feel better. Body is really sore since I’ve gotten 17k steps, two days in a row. So before the 10 mins were up I got out of my chair and started doing some stretches with eyes closed. Love combining stretches and closed eye meditation. Definitely feel better now, and my 'mindfulness muscle' is getting a tiny bit stronger each day. I find it easier to return to the centered calmness of counting breaths.

Wed, Oct 11                          Didn’t meditate

Thu, Oct 12   10:47am        Meditated 10 mins after morning meeting. Really out of the groove today but tried to just count 100 breaths. Thought about chopping wood for work, about sex, about being messy in romantic relationships, about stretching after meditation, about the kid in my math class who seems to be following along better than anyone else.

Fri, Oct 13                             Didn’t meditate

Sat, Oct 14    9:45am           Meditated during morning meeting.

Sun, Oct 15   2:01pm           Took a break from studying anatomy to meditate. Was sort of fighting off sleep part of the time. Said simple prayers to ask for God’s will to be done, and to discover what that will is. Prayed also for a loving and generous spirit in my heart.

Mon, Oct 16  11:00pm         Meditated 10 mins after looking at Twitter/Reddit for ~3 hours. I think I need to try 15 or 20 minute meditations because sometimes I find myself totally distracted and overstimulated for more than half of a 10 minute meditation. That was the case this time. At some points I opened my eyes and just stared at the wall to keep from thinking about downtown Montreal, or applying to a Master’s program in 5 years, or how I had a bad attitude at work the other day.

Tue, Oct 17   12:14pm        Been feeling emotionally unhinged lately, lowkey lashing out at people. Trying to redirect. Meditation is a good starting place. Meditated 10 minutes and had to stop myself over and over from planning out my day. How much time will I spend in the restaurant working on prep? How much time on schoolwork? Will I have time to pick up a cleaning project? Could I meditate for 10 minutes on the clock? Who will I see there and what will the vibe be when I talk to them? Used breath counting to reel in some of the thoughts. Asked God for help. I have a long way to go toward being centered, organized, disciplined. Please, God, help me make some progress today.

Wed, Oct 18                          Didn’t meditate

Thu, Oct 19   10:30am        Meditated in morning meeting. Feel at peace with my life, with who I am and where I’m at, with my propensity for anxiety, for mistakes, for seeing things through a distorted lens. I’m gonna keep learning and I’m gonna be okay.

Fri, Oct 20     10:30am        Meditated in morning meeting. Had trouble staying quiet mentally. In the meeting we talked about the 'confusion' that exists without a spiritual connection. Thought about how meditation and confusion are like exact opposites. Lot of confusion and noise for me lately. Meditation must be one of the main solutions. Not just meditation but a meditation practice. Prayer as well, I need more of that. Talked about meditation with my sponsor later. He recommended I try the 'toes-to-head' meditation.

Sat, Oct 21    9:00am           Made coffee then meditated for 10 mins before meeting.

                        9:45am           Meditated for 10 mins in morning meeting. It felt good to get more time in. Would like to do one longer session but 10x2 was easy and felt very calming.

Sun, Oct 22   9:30am           Set a timer and laid on yoga mat to meditate for 10 minutes. Said a prayer for my mom and grandma, who are going through a difficult time. Had to keep returning to baseline as I kept fantasizing about sex with [redacted], who I’ve been texting. Sex is a constant refrain for my tired brain, I think I’m subconsciously convinced that there’s some simple relief there. But intellectually I know it’s never that simple, relationships are complicated and usually come with more stress than being single. Important to talk myself down from these underlying desires.

Mon, Oct 23                          Didn’t meditate. Busy day, but I think I need to start finding more time. It’s possible to replace some of my phone-scrolling time with meditation every day, sometimes I just don’t do it. This log is helping me stay accountable and showing me what I need to change to meditate more.

Tue, Oct 24   12:45pm        Meditated 10 mins laying on yoga mat. Was really able to start calm with deep breaths, maybe because I was laying down. Often I start with a hectic mind and try to calm it for the first 5 mins.

Wed, Oct 25  10:30am        Didn’t meditate? Can’t remember

Thu, Oct 26   11:45am         Meditated 10 mins. Sick with a cold, hopefully not worse. Did not want to meditate but do feel a bit better

Fri, Oct 27     9:48pm           Meditated 8 mins. Got antsy during the last two. Feeling very baby because the cold is actually a flu or something. Lots of schoolwork to do before tomorrow night. Trying to stay calm and not get overwhelmed.

Sat, Oct 28    8:15pm           Meditated 10 mins which led to me napping for another 30. Very ill but still going to work and studying. Sad!

Sun, Oct 29                           Did not meditate. Walked for 2 hours listening to an old interview with Brad Phillips, he talked a lot about 12 step program, psychedelic drug experiences, Zen vs. Tibetan Buddhism. Helpful for pondering meditation and how to consider it in my life.

Mon, Oct 30  10:45am        Meditated 10 mins after morning meeting. Health is improving slightly. Trying to spend the day doing work, chores, service to others, or meditative things like prayer, listening to spiritual talks, walking. Trying to leave alone the chaotic, noisy things that are really perpetuating my discomfort and dissatisfaction.

Tue, Oct 31   2:03pm           Meditated 10 mins after writing for English class, before going for a walk and calling my sponsor. Turns out I had covid. At least it's almost over. Same with October. What's next.

[mymegumi]

drifting lights

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.0k words

warnings: late night drive, sad thoughts, idk, driving and swears

note: another repost from zumis, but anyways giggles i hope you like it bc i wrote a bit more and edited it!!

dedicated: to @tetsustation as an apology for saying i hoped furudate’s least fav char would be kuroo </3 it was a joke /lh

“hey,” kuroo’s words are soft in your ear, volume turned down on your phone to make sure your roommates don’t wake up, “did i wake you?”

“mm,” you’re still groggy from sleep and his voice is a soft timbre against your ear, “s’okay, what’s up?

“can’t a guy just call his girlfriend?”

you hum as you think, turning in bed as you tuck your blanket underneath your chin. across the room, your eyes are blurrily trying to focus on the blinding red letters sitting idly on your analog clock. “not when it’s almost two am, ‘suro.”

“well,” he at least has the decency to sound as apologetic as he can over the phone, “i really did just miss you, wanted to hear your voice.”

it’s only kuroo’s fault when your phone slips from your hands, pillow pressed to your face with your hands as you scream as silently as you can into it. without meaning to, he makes butterflies erupt in your stomach and you try to gather yourself as you bring your phone back up to your ear, hand loosely against your mouth.

“it is way too early for you to be doing this to me,” your scolding is light, and from his faint chuckle, has most likely fallen on deaf ears, “is there anything you want me to do for you?”

there’s a pause and you can hear a little bit of shuffling around from kuroo’s end of the phone before his voice is back, slightly softer than before, “you could come outside.”

“what?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” you can practically hear the teasing smile that’s on his face as you sit up in your bed, pushing the curtain away from your window to look outside. sure enough, you can recognize the silhouette of your boyfriend faintly illuminated by the streetlight, “come outside.”

“you’re so lucky,” his laughter is cut short as you hang up on him. you climb out of bed and grab a hoodie off of your desk chair, shoving your phone in your pocket as you open your door as quietly as possible.

sneaking downstairs isn’t an issue, and while you shove your shoes on carelessly, you take the quick minute you’re standing still to shove the sweater you had stolen from kuroo over your head. it hangs low, but you’re pulling the heel of your shoes back into their rightful positions as you’re leaving your house.

the door closes with a soft click, and a pair of hands end up resting on your hips as a familiar weight is pressed against the top of your head. it’s not long before kuroo’s arms are wrapped around your waist firmly, and you know you’re not getting out of it until he feels like letting you go, so you lean back into him.

your eyes close as you place your hand over his hands. you keep your voice low as you turn your head to try and get a glance at him, “are you okay?”

the silence itself is enough of an answer for you that you just run your thumb along the ridges of his knuckles. kuroo is one of the best communicators you’d ever dated, and it was always a bad sign if he was being too silent about what was going on inside of his head. you’d learned that unlike many of your friends, kuroo preferred the silence of your presence rather than small talk if he wasn’t feeling his best.

you turn your head backwards at an odd angle to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw as he holds you gently, the only light being the moon over your heads and the warm yellow glow coming from the streetlight a few feet away from your front steps. he’s still quiet when you end up turning in his arms, nose tucked into the warm spot where his pulse rests, steady and loud as you stand on your front step for a few seconds. it reminds you that he’s real and is a tangible reminder of the man you love.

kuroo’s car is parked on the side of the road a little ways away, lights off and engine running as he starts running his hands through your hair. it’s light, right by the outside of your ear and he kisses the crown of your head with soothing touches.

“wanna go on a drive?” his words are barely above a whisper and you can only nod against him, not wanting to move too much before you have. his hands leave your hair as he steps back to look at you.

most of his face is just shadows, the light illuminating the outer edges of his hair but you can still manage to distinguish the handsome lines of his face. despite covering an eye, he’s always had the type of face that you always want to look at and even almost two years into your relationship, that fact still hasn’t changed. when he offers you the smallest of smiles, you can see the exhaustion lining his expression, laced between the adoration he has for you in his eyes.

his hands find their way to your cheeks, cupping carefully as he rubs a finger along the curve of your cheekbone. he leans down to rub your noses together for a second, eyes slipping close and he looks at ease for a brief moment before sealing your lips together.

your hands hang off of his forearms as you press close together, warmth finding you in each other’s embrace. kuroo’s kiss is slow, unhurried, and it steals the sleepiness from you as he turns his head to the side slightly. he tastes like laughter on a summer day, endless nights filled with your hands shoved outside of the sunroof of your too-old-to-be-on-the-road car, and the citrusy tang of clementines and oranges you’d stole from your neighbor.

in the next few minutes the two of you share a few more kisses, each as quick and as dizzying as the one before. as he pulls away, you’re relieved to see some of the stress shed from his expression, eyes bright and awake as he looks back at you. his hand winds with yours as you start the walk to his car, lazily making your way there.

he pulls the door of his car open for you, waiting for you to get in before walking around the front to his own side. when he gets into the car, he double checks to make sure you’re buckled in before he puts his car into drive, pulling out onto your street as he fishes his phone out of his pocket for you.

“any preferences for tonight’s playlist?” unlocking his phone, you’re somewhere on his spotify—scrolling through the amalgamation of absolutely atrocious study playlist names he’d crafted over the years—when he finally settles on something a bit more relaxing than his most recently played playlist.

together, the two of you enjoy the passing scenery as you start to slip into tokyo’s nightscape. the lights are bright and you can’t help but be mesmerized by them as kuroo drives, no end destination in mind, just wanting to enjoy each other’s presence for the moment.

kuroo has always been spontaneous like this for as long as you have been dating. in fact, he had asked you out on a whim, coming off the high of winning a volleyball game in high school. you were in the crowd because he had asked you to come watch him. you wouldn’t get the privilege of wearing his jersey until you became official, but you still decided to represent your school in a borrowed sweater you had stolen from him.

he was sweaty, but his smile was so radiant when he looked up at you leaning over the railing protecting you from falling. he waved with both hands, and you had waved back with matched enthusiasm.

kuroo had ended up yelling up to you, asking you out for the very first time in front of everyone who had come to watch. while you hated the attention, you had nodded hurriedly before making your way down to the court to get enveloped in a big, sweaty kuroo hug.

you distinctly remember kenma thanking you later for saving him from having to hug kuroo that night.

“love,” your hand finds his where it rests near the shifter, “what brought this on?”

your head is leaning against the headrest as he sighs softly, turning his hand over to twine your fingers together in a warm grasp, “i just, i couldn’t stop thinking.”

you make a noise of acknowledgement, knowing that he would know that you were listening, but just letting him take his time to tell you what was going on. while very spontaneous, kuroo wasn’t one for staying up too late, citing that a good night’s sleep was one of the first and best steps you could take for a better education. his dedication was one of the things you admire about him, even if it meant you were missing your boyfriend for a good hour at night

“i’m just worried,” his admission is barely audible over the music playing and the soothing rumble of his car’s engine as you change lanes on the highway, “about everything that’s changing.”

“i know that things have to change,” while he talks, you just watch, the lines of stress crossing over his face almost disappearing in the darkness, “but i don’t want to leave school. i’ve made so many friends and i met you, and i just can’t help but feel scared for what’s going to happen when we don’t have it anymore.”

you tighten your grip where your hands rest as you smile at him, despite the fact he’s focusing on the road, “‘suro, you know how you made a lot of good friends in school?”

he nods ever so slightly, voice cracking just slightly as he answers, “yeah.”

“just think about all the friends you’re going to make when you go into the real world,” you’re worrying your thumb over the back of his hand, “you’re very charismatic, and you’re good with other people, smart, too. you’re not lacking in great qualities, and people will recognize that.”

“not to mention,” you’ve adjusted yourself in your seat, tucking a leg underneath yourself so that you can face him more directly, “kenma, yaku, nobuyuki, and myself will always answer when you call or text. you’ll be away from home, but we’ll all be available for you, ‘suro.”

“we’re leaving school,” you start, eyes tracing the skyline of the city as you feel a small smile spread across your lips, “but life won’t end, and our friends won’t stop being our friends, and i’ll never stop being yours.”

you’re pulling up to a stoplight when he turns to look at you, side of his face bright red from the light as he gives you an easy going smile. you press the palm of your free hand to his cheek, and his eyes close, savoring the moment. he pulls your joined hands together to kiss your knuckles, featherlight before pulling away to lean across his center console.

“i love you,” his words are a mumble against your lips as you enjoy the quiet moment.

it’s almost three am, now, so when the light turns green, the pair of you are unconcerned as kuroo doesn’t press his foot against the gas, instead just content to be with each other. the changing colors of the stoplight is a backdrop to the press of his lips, a hand curling into his hair as he pulls you closer to him over the center console.it digs into your side a bit, and the seatbelt presses into your chest at an uncomfortable angle, but it’s all very you and kuroo so you don’t mind it.

kuroo’s worries won’t disappear overnight, and you know that you can only begin to soothe the deep seeded insecurities he holds. you’ll be content as long as he knows you’ll always be there to drive with him and watch the sunrise together, your fingers laced with his.

[biot08]

Abstracted

(Shadowbringers spoilers)

The first one hadn’t been so bad.

Its aether had flowed into her, and it had given her skin a bit of a tingly feeling. Rather like being out in the cold too long, or perhaps like hitting that one spot in her elbow.

Not great, but easily manageable.

The second one had been a little worse. Now there was a slight pressure under her skin everywhere, and a weird feeling in her joints that she could only describe as ‘humming’.

And the entire time, Emet-Selch had been nearby, providing his commentary, providing his history, and occasionally even being helpful.

He helped bring Y’shtola back. A minor thing to him, a major thing for her. So he was tolerated, even entertained at points.

Until that fateful moment.

The last Lightbringer had been rather too much, far too much. And when the possibility of relief had been made, Emet-selch had ensured it was stolen away, and that she would be left here, like this.

He had told her, again and again, that she was nothing; less than nothing. That he did not view her as alive. That he viewed her existence as a mockery of life.

She should have kept a closer eye on him, been more wary of the inevitable betrayal. After all, it made sense. He was immortal; she was not. He could afford to play any game he wished, knowing he would always be the one to make the last move.

But now she was here, and the Light aether was threatening to snuff her out, once and for all, and replace her with something else, something worse, a terrible monster that would threaten the First and by extension the Source.

Her skin felt as though it would burst outward like an overfill sausage at any moment. Her nerves were all cold and afire, rather like frostbite. Her vision was full to white.

And now he was monologuing.

Insult and injury.

“You are a mistake. For we who have known perfection, the shattered Source and these shards are ghastly mockeries of the true world. The ephemeral lives you exalt are pale imitations, utterly devoid of meaning.” he’d said.

“Fool. Who are you? No one. Nothing.” he’d said.

“Weary wanderer! You’ve no fight left to fight! No life left to live!” he’d said.

And now she was collapsed on the floor, in a puddle of Light, watching as the world faded to white, motes of it drifting by her vision, a roaring in her ears.

She watched the motes drift upwards, and turn reddish. She heard the roaring die down, to snaps and pops and crackles. The ground beneath her continued to shift to white, but the white seemed to clear from the rest of her vision. She rolled onto her back to gaze up into a sky full of stars, and took a deep breath.

The snaps and pops and crackles continued. A source of fire, and heat. She turned her head, and saw a campfire. Across from her, she saw a hooded figure sitting on a log.

She recognized the form this time.

An ancient.

She propped herself up on one arm, and frowned, looking across at the Ancient. It turned its masked face towards her, and somehow, she could tell, she could just feel, that it was smiling. It was a feeling of genuine warmth. Of kindness. Of a kind of love and care.

She took several deep breaths, coughing a few times, before sitting up.

They were in the middle of a vast white powdery expanse. Above them, the sky was thick with stars. The horizon stretched infinitely in every direction. She saw the edge of a mighty sun slip behind it.

“I’ve been here before,” she said. “I… I remember.”

The hooded figure- the Ancient- simply nodded.

The fire continued to crackle and burn, giving off a pleasant heat. She looked around more, seeing little else in the plain. Some logs for sitting on. The sharp shadows cast by her and the Ancient. Some stars drifted lazily down from the heavens, settling to form vague ghostly impressions just beyond the little campsite, visions that refused to resolve even as she looked at them.

They were growing closer.

She looked to the Ancient.

“…am I… you?” she asked.

“Of a sort,” the Ancient replied in their language. She liked listening to them. They had a musical cadence to their speech. She leaned back on her arms.

“Aren’t you long passed?” she asked.

“Of a sort,” the enigmatic being responded again. She sighed.

She was tired. Surely being dead wasn’t meant to be exhausting.

“I am… sorry,” she said. “I have failed you. I think you’ll need to find a new Warrior of Light.”

“You think so?” the Ancient responded. “I think you have done splendidly. But in any case, the path you walk, we walk together.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she didn’t. Around her, the vague ghostly impressions beyond the campsite continued to get closer, and some of the began to come into focus.

The vague pale haze around each of them reminded her of the flood of ‘heroes’ she had had to fight on her way to get this far, but as each of them resolved a little more clearly, she felt as well as saw them for who they were.

She saw a younger version of herself settle down on one of the logs. Another one of her stood behind that one, dressed in some kind of sharp looking uniform with clean lines; a style she didn’t recognize. Another, dressed in a suit that looked to be some form of magitek.

More and more, some more like her, some less like her, coming forward and taking their seats.

“Are these all… us?” she asked.

“Every one,” the Ancient replied.

“So the vision from earlier… the one who became a dragon kin?”

“And the one who cried at the injustice of the Inquisition.”

She pointed. “Flew a weird machine.”

The Ancient nodded at another one. “Held the line.”

The fire continued to crackle, and more gathered in.

She saw one in particular. “…the one who I saw stand up for that young child.” she said, flatly.

That memory in particular was a sore one for her.

The Ancient nodded directly at her. “…and the one who learned something powerful about herself that day.”

She watched them for a bit, taking slow, careful breaths. She saw them bump into each other, greet each other, talk to each other; she could see them, but could not hear them, could not quite interact with them. They were there, but to her, they were not quite real. Abstractions of what it was to be herself.

Abstractions of what it was to be real.

She looked to the Ancient.

“How many of them are there?” she asked.

“Countless. There are many of you, as if stars in the sky. You, and others like you, and others not like you, and others not at all you.”

She saw a particularly odd looking one, short, with longer ears, and a strange flat disc-like hat that seems rather too large. And many of them did not appear to be Elezen at all.

And there was more, always more.

“They’re just… echos. Of you.”

“Perhaps.”

“…Echo. Hah. It seems obvious, in retrospect.”

That feeling from the Ancient again. Of a smile. Of that irrepressible kindness born of love.

She looked at the fire, and felt a deep sadness.

“That’s why he hates us, isn’t it. We really are just pale imitations to him.”

“Are you?”

She looked to the Ancient quizzically.

“Think about it. You may be made of the same stuff as me, but so is everything in existence. Everything is made of aether, is it not? That the same parts are used over and over again do not make the same thing.”

She considered the fire again. “…I think he thought I was you.”

“Of course he would. If you take a board from a house and use it another, can you not see the original marks on the board? The places where nails were before, the staining of age already upon it? That does not make the new house the old.”

“…it also doesn’t make the old house entirely new.”

“Ah, but here the analogy falls apart. The fault is mine. Because houses do not have experiences, and certainly, do not build new houses.”

She swept her gaze around to the other apparitions. They were a veritable crowd, now.

So many possibilities.

She wondered how many of them failed.

“Not as many as you would think,” the Ancient said.

She looked to the Ancient, then back outwards.

“Are they real?” she asked.

“As real as you. As real as anything. Let me pick a better analogy for this next explanation. Each of you… are a voice. A voice in a chorus. A chorus that tells a story. Your voices echo, and resonate with each other. One voice is a quiet sound in a vast room, but all of your voices together form a beautiful song that reaches out to the ends of existence itself. Every voice is needed in the choir. Some will falter, yes. Some of them already have. But so many do not. So many raise their voices, ever stronger. Each is real. Each is necessary.”

“A chorus.”

“Yes.”

She watched the fire for a bit.

“… what about Ardbert? Is he… part of my choir?”

“Not yet. But close. As you have learned about his companions, as you have learned about him, as you have learned about his story - your songs have grown closer. Your song is now part of his, and his now part of yours. You are harmonizing. Keep that in mind.”

“… I will.”

She watched the fire. It seemed to be growing brighter.

“…but wait. If we are a song, a chorus… then what happens… it’s a combination of all of our experiences, isn’t it?”

The Ancient looked directly at her then, and seemed to sit up a little straighter, lean forward a little closer.

“If I fail… someone else might not. If I succeed, then in a way, we all succeed. It’s not just me. It’s… it’s all of us.”

“And all of your friends, and those who are not yet, and others besides.”

“And you say it forms a song. A song… and… it transcends boundaries, doesn’t it? I may not hear it, but I am part of singing it, and all realities know it.”

The Ancient was nodding now, enthusiastically. “Yes, yes!”

“So it’s not just me. That’s what you’re trying to show me. You’re trying to show me… how much bigger you’ve become, how much more you are, how much we - “

She paused. A thought occurred. She looked at the ancient, and blinked a few times.

“I am not an echo of you. You… you’re long gone. But you’re the memories of what it was to be you. You’re... you’re…”

The Ancient nodded, holdings its hand together, leaning so far forward it looked to be about to fall into the fire.

“…you’re an echo of me. Of us. Of our shared experiences!”

The Ancient stood to its feet then, clapping.

Zoissette suddenly understood, and she flopped to the ground on her back, arms spread, laughing, laughing, laughing so it hurt, laughing so she cried.

She looked at the stars, and despite her sudden feeling of smallness, she felt grander than she ever had. And as she looked, the apparitions of all of her possibilities stood around her, and they drifted back up into the sky as stars.

Stars growing ever brighter.

The fire grew louder, and its flames licked higher.

The sky began to turn white with the brilliance of it star-like tapestry.

“I understand now,” she said, quietly.

She rolled over, gently, as the world went white. The weight in her limbs returned. The pressure behind her skin began to press out again. The pain drifted back into her awareness, and she struggled to try to push herself to her feet, and she grinned grimly at a ground she could no longer see.

She might die here.

She might fail here.

This might be the end.

And she thought of her friends, the Scions, behind her, and all they had done.

She thought of her friends on another world.

It would be alright.

This would be a good death.

But she would not go quietly into that night.

And then, she heard a voice.

“If you had the strength, to take another step… could you do it? Could you save our worlds?”

She looked up to see a man who had been her companion nearly since she had stepped foot on this world, and she smiled at him, and accepted his offer to join his voice to hers.

~~~

Emet-Selch watched as the so-called Warrior of Darkness - Warrior of Light, what a joke that was now - writhed on the ground like a worm as the Light overtook her. He had to shield his eyes as a brilliant pillar of light shot up and pierced the heavens, threatening to blind him.

Surely this was it. Surely this was the moment of triumph, the transformation completing, his plans come to fruition.

The end of a burden.

“This is not yours to end…this is our future. Our story,” said a voice that was familiar to him.

Emet-selch looked to the Light, and he saw… an imagine of one of his brethren. A familiar figure, in familiar robes.

“No… it can’t be.” he said, staggering back.

The light faded, and in its place, he saw Zoissette. She was standing tall, strong. Looking straight at him, with an expression of… was that pity?

“Bah, a trick of the light. You are a broken husk, nothing more!” he spat.

She inclined her head at him, with a slight tilt.

“You may be immortal, I have experienced infinity in ways you never can,” she said. “Until you are let go and in turn can let go.”

He clenched his fist, and fair trembled with rage.

“How can you hope to stand against me alone?” he seethed.

“We stand together!” another voice chimed in.

Together, Zoissette thought.

She looked up at the stars, and smiled.

She understood.

[cosmixbun]

For those who don’t know the song ‘Hallelujah Money’, it is a song released by the band, ‘Gorillaz’ on the ‘Humanz’ album on January 17, 2017. Or more known as the eve of Donald Trump’s inauguration (keep this in mind, it’s very important.). The majority of the vocals were sung by Benjamin Clementine, the rest of course, was 2-d. The lyrics can be found here, if you want to read them. The music video can be found here. I suggest watching and reading both before really looking into this.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a big music person, I only find music video interest in the Gorillaz music videos. If I say something that you do not believe or have differing opinions, great. This is just what I bring to the table all these years later. There’s plenty more where I come from.

THE VIDEO:

I’m going to explain as best as I can with both parts so bear with me. Again, it would help to watch the video to see the background and the emotions in the video as portrayed by Benjamin. So, in the music video upon opening, we see the only person who will be the center of the whole music video, Benjamin. We see him in a shiny, gold building. This hallway, in the building, is a reference to the Trump Tower and Benjamin is portraying Trump, or at the least his ideals. The background images that are used in the music video are disturbing and can sometimes set an uneasy feeling. I’m not going to go super in depth on each image or video because there’s a lot but you can find the breakdown somewhere. In the music video we see flashes for symbols or things that symbolize power, such as the pyramid with the eye on the back of the US dollar bill (which is said to represent God or the illuminati, so pick one), a cowboy, and even a creepy clown video (not really a ‘power’ in a societal sense, but they affected how we lived for a while.) While the videos and pictures are shown in the back, the lyrics are being said. The majority of the time, the video and pictures have somewhat no connotation to the lyrics being sung. The end of the video ends with a clip of Spongebob screaming and crying, this was taken from the episode called ‘Karate Choppers’ from season one. The clip is right after Mr.Krabs, his boss, tells him that he’s fired. “You’re fired.” is one of Donald Trump’s signature quotes.

THE LYRICS:

Going into the lyrics I will also tie into the things that I had talked about in the music video. The lyrics in the beginning are more of acknowledging that the US is a growing country and that everyone is allowed here, except for `The scarecrows that come from the far east”. Benjamin then sings that to keep them away “Is by building walls, Walls like unicorns In full glory and galore” making a reference to the wall Trump had promised in his campaign that he was going to build. A lot of people in the states were looking forward to this and as it states, it was going to be a big project that would be looked at by many. Benjamin at this time in the music video is calm and collected and seems to be confident in what he is saying. He is also singing his thoughts about the American Dream, and how it is only for the starving, To me, this is saying that the people who don’t have it bad in this country don’t even have to think about the American Dream because they think they are already living it. Those who are struggling to get by everyday dream about the day where they won’t have to get up and wonder what their next meal is or even if they will see next week. Those people have their own dreams about the American Dream. He then thanks the people for trusting him, a reference to the fact that he is going to get inaugurated the next day. I’m going to skip 2-d’s parts for now and skip to the next time Benjamin starts to sing. The next verse that Benjamin sings is ‘Trump’ saying that even though this is how life is, we can’t do much about it, everyone in the world just wants power. We can’t be upset over something that is bound to repeat itself. He even says, “And the whole beasts of nations desire, Power”. In some way or another we want power. Trump definitely understood this and had taken it to a whole new level.

Now going into 2-d’s parts he sings both bridges in the song. In both parts that he sings he is singing directly to Benjamin. He’s asking these questions that we still ask today, “When the morning come, We are still human, How will we know? How will we dream? How will we love? How will we know ?” These questions are from the people and they are asking that if the world is so corrupt, how will we ever be able to love each other if all we can do is fight and argue. The first time 2-d comes to ask these questions, all Benjamin can do is listen. 2-d sits in Benjamin’s silhouette and Benjamin stays still. The second time he sings the same lyrics, Benjamin seems uneasy and worried, scared, and fearful. Benjamin’s hands are shaking and the book he’s holding, he is weary about. The music becomes more, ‘anxiety filled’. Then not too long after 2-d is done, Benjamin goes back to normal. Symbolizing that in his campaign and unknowingly, the years to come, he was going to be questioned and under heavy watch because not only was he a public figure, but a lot of allegations and scandals came up about him. In the same moment, he starts to sing, “Hallelujah Money” and rub his hands together in a way that you would say money, with your thumb, pointer, and middle finger. This was then showing that even after all of that, he still had support and his fame, all the efforts did nothing to him. He wasn't phased by a single thing that came towards him.

MY THOUGHTS:

So what are my thoughts on this music video? Three words.

Absolutely.

Fucking.

Incredible.

This music video was not only amazingly made, but Benjamin did the entire music video in one take. But coming away from that, the message that this brings to the table about how the former president saw the American Dream? How he felt about power and wealth? I think it captured it perfectly. The imagery that was used in the back of the video is stunning. The way they used the analogies in this was so intricate, but it worked and fit so well. The way that they went into it and went, ‘Ya know what. Let’s give it to em’.’ My absolute favorite part of this was the lines used to describe the different sides of the American Dream. The way they also used the tree analogy in the beginning to describe the idea of western prosperity just really sold it for me. The way this song was produced and how it sounds like a choir is singing with Benjamin to me is just the opinions of the people who agree with Trump and his ideals and them being like, ‘yeah, for the money.’ The kind of tone that song has is kind of 'rejoiceful' but having that hint of that ‘uneasiness’ that I had mentioned earlier. It just makes you think that it’s a normal Gorillaz song. The entire song is just powerful to me and after seeing it once again and hearing the song once again, and celebrating 4 years of the album...My appreciation only grows for it.

That’s pretty much it but I would like to close out with a quote from none other than Murdoc Niccals himself:

"In these dark times, we all need someone to look up to. That's why I'm giving you this new Gorillaz song, a lighting bolt of truth in a black night. You're welcome."

[wehatejulietsimms]

This is an Andy appreciation post. I’m re-listening to Vale because I never understood.

It has much religious imagery but it’s *more* than just metaphors and analogies.

There’s four views I’ve understood finally and maybe more.

I will not mention anything of the specifics BVB is fighting against in Vale because like I said, this is an appreciation post and I don’t want to bring up anything negative if I don’t have to make it a point. If anyone wants me to go further into detail about what specifically I feel is going on, just ask because my gut has a keen reception on lyrics and events.

1. Religious persecution:

To the unawakened folks or the ones that progressively sin in the name of God.

Fighting for equality that when people fuck up, it isn’t the death of them. Just the death of an ego and awakening into more self compassion.

2. Talking to the fans that are blind to reality

In many songs off Vale, Andy always talks about preaching but never fully being heard from the blind and innocent. He’s tired but he will keep fighting, because he wants to make an active change to the community in a way he can but feels weak from time to time, yet never giving up!

3. Ashley

When Ashley was outed publicly, Andy never dedicated this song to him but posted the lyrics with no caption when Ashley was accused. Throw the first stone.

4. Letter to self: acknowledging this is an end of a cycle. Hint: the album name and song lyrics.

Our Destiny is a big one. It’s not just a rock love song about trying to save a destiny between two people. It’s saving himself from his past “sins” “fuckups” and saying it’s not too late to heal, which it’s never too hate to heal from the past and present. I feel like it’s “hey, I’m going into ashes now but I’ve already made amends with it and I’ll rise again and again, however many times to make it out of mental and physical surroundings.” Also, I feel it was referencing Lost it All in a way, like most of his songs do, it’s a personal and universal message that there’s so much shit in life that will knock you down and you will heal while STILL in a hurt place physically. I really want to appreciate that truth that there’s a lot of healing that still is in the midst of pain. (Props to you, Andy!) Many abusive childhoods can resonate with that as well as being stuck in relationships/friendships/or generational curses including being in debt. (Which he mentions a lot in interviews) I really do think he’s gonna get out because he’s such a wise soul and nobody gives him props to healing, and being such a mature wise man even though he’s not at his highest or best surroundings. I mean, I don’t know any other artist that’s stuck in a shitty situation and is still uplifting, real, and promotes healing and is why so many BVB army members resonate with the music. I really respect he says that people heal themselves but use his music as a resonating device to heal, when fans say he’s their hero.

Andy has overcome addictions, has had to protect his life many times, has written so much uplifting and real wisdom from a dark place of mind or just straight up otherworldly strength and vulnerability which I admire because it’s beautiful and real, doesn’t have many real helpful people around him, has been a real role model by himself, is overcoming shame and lies & generation healing, he’s really had to rely on himself and I’m glad his band members really allow him to take control of the lyrics in such an inspiring way. Even though he’s still dealing and people pleasing to toxic people, remember everyone, people in abusive relationships and are trapped have to people please in order to stay alive and not get harmed. Many don’t understand that if they’ve never been abused. (They don’t need to understand, Andy! We see it) His perseverance is real and don’t judge someone for figuring out their own life. Sometimes freedom comes from music (even though other aspects from the rock industry contradict it). Let’s be supportive of him right now because he’s branching off into a new territory and finding out what’s working for him SAFELY. Yes, I don’t agree with a lot of what he says in his insecure moments in interviews and lies in his book/irl (gotta remember that’s a trauma brain response), but his music speaks in a way that is truth and can help many people going through many things and express it in a healthy way. Also I believe many fans live in denial about his life due to the fact that they’re probably living through it in their own life and can’t recognize it in another person. Or are attracted to his light but want nothing to do to help keep it alive as in tearing him down (secret haters). Anyways, I respect him for going above and beyond and it’s really admirable because like I said, nobody in the industry has ever done what he’s done. His art is perseverance.

5. He’s been a role model for so many hurting depressed people because they resonate to his own story and his strength is a catalyst for their own strength. I dislike when people deny he’s been living in trauma and overcoming many times in his life because that’s literally what this band was formed into. There’s so much evidence in his life and in the music. He’s had to take on a role for his (hurt & healing) self and it naturally became a safe space for BVB army to interact and resonate with him. He had to do that at 18/19 and if anyone’s that age or older, you know that age is just a child. I applaud him for being that young while having no parental guidance while creating something beautiful and divine, though I do empathize for his inner child. His albums are art that are darker, not evil, and is a place where children/adults who were rejected in any form can find solace in their own mind and thus can create healing. His words are moving and you have to applaud the man for keeping it together when people of all directions were hating on his every move and it was because he has such a big heart and everyone around him wants to keep him caged out of selfishness. Even when he had meltdowns and (not saying he couldn’t also be toxic because everyone has the capacity but meltdowns get overlooked because it’s a spur of the moment thing and everyone thinks it’s a violent episode but it’s due to triggers as well as not being sober) still wanted to show up for everyone including his own self that he knows himself to be, that he didn’t want to let rot. He’s really a strong soul and it gets overlooked a lot. He’s striving for betterment of himself for more than a decade (with so much persecution even in his own circle) and people keep wishing that “I hope he gets out” and this is how he’s helping himself for the moment until he can actually get out. So again, props to him. We’re proud of you, Andy! Keep going! We believe in you. Keep taking care of your overall being. Thanks for believing in us all of these years. Some of us even made it out of the hurt place we were in and are living happy, peaceful, healthy lives after trauma.

^^i literally almost teared up reading this. this is exactly why i love him so much (& what made me fall in love with him/BVB in the first place) you said everything perfectly. i honestly wish i could pin posts on here bc i really want this to be the first thing people read on the blog. as much as people think this blog is supposed to be outright hateful, (although it contradicts the name of the blog lol) i can assure you it's not. as fans we want the best for our favorite artists and when an artist has helped/continued to help you and so many other people out of dark places it sucks to see that through that they can't help themselves. i just want the best for him and for him to be 100% happy again. that's the purpose of this blog.

[hydra-collector]

touch

AO3

Ship: Analogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders

TW: drinking mention, panic attack, food

Words: 1796

Summary: Neither Virgil nor Logan are particularly touchy people, but they become more and more comfortable with it as they grow closer.

Note: High school AU

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you consider us friends?”

“I mean, yeah, we’re sitting at the same lunch table and we’ve pretty consistently talked for like, a month. It doesn’t take too long for me to consider people friends.”

“Ah. Do you mind if we make an agreement for how we should proceed in our friendship, just to lay out some ground rules so neither of us overstep a boundary or don’t know when someone needs help? It could really be anything.”

“Oh, sure, I guess. Do I get to add on?”

“Considering friendship implies that both sides are as important as the other, I think it would be inappropriate if I didn’t let you.”

Logan began pulling out his binder, taking a piece of scrap paper from inside. He scribbled a title and the beginnings of a list.

“First thing, I would prefer if you didn’t take my glasses. Some people do it quite often as a joke, and it’s extremely irritating, especially considering I can barely see without them.”

“Okay, teach. How about… if I have a panic attack you- no, I can’t ask you to-”

“If what you’re asking is just that you’d like me to help you, I don’t see why that’s unreasonable.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Logan tapped his pen on the table as he considered what to add next.

“You can ask me for help on your homework, but I won’t give you answers.”

“Damn it.”

“You have to learn the material, Virgil.”

“Fine. So, if either of us has a crush or something, the other person will try to give them the courage to tell them.”

“That’s fair. It’s something friends usually do, right? I don’t have very many.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Okay, next thing. If I text you asking where you are, whether we were going to meet up or I’m simply concerned, you have to answer if you can. I had a friend at one point that didn’t respond and it turned out that they’d been getting drunk, and no one was even with them.”

“I can promise I’m not gonna get drunk.”

“Wouldn’t you appreciate someone that makes sure you didn’t get abducted or something anyway?”

“...Yeah, I guess.”

They sat there for a moment, both trying to decide what to add. Virgil looked up for a moment, seeming to think of something.

“Okay, so do you have any problems with touching?”

“Touching?”

“Yeah like, would it bother you if I tapped your shoulder to get your attention, or pulled you by the hand to get you to go somewhere, or hugged you if you have a mental breakdown or something?”

“I don’t have any particular qualms about it, but I do find it awkward if I don’t know someone very closely. Are you specifically affectionate with your friends?”

“Nah, I’m pretty much like you. I guess if it happens, it’s usually fine. Although I’d prefer it if you asked during panic attacks.”

Logan nodded, noting it at the end of the list.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it, I think.”

~~

Virgil sat beside Logan, hand holding up his chin as he neglected the bangs covering his eyes. They were set on his homework, a pencil resting in his other hand.

“I understand what I’m doing now, but I still don’t get how. Do I put this here or-”

Logan pushed Virgil’s hand to the other side of the equation, copying the number there instead.

“It doesn't go beside the va- Virgil, are you alright?”

He wore an odd expression on his face, looking between this hand and Logan.

“Oh, yeah, I’m… continue, I just zoned out for a second.””

“Okay. It doesn’t go beside the variable because…”

~~

Virgil caught up with Logan, who was seemingly heading home. He had a bit of money he’d been meaning to spend after school, and who better to share a meal with than Logan? He’d never eaten the school lunches (to be fair, neither did Virgil) but he wasn’t sure if he brought anything today, so he likely hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He usually brought lunch, or snacks at least, especially with his lectures about good eating schedules.

“Hey, Lo.”

“Hello, Virgil.”

“Wanna go get something to eat? I’m feeling particularly altruistic. Plus, nobody’s home right now so I’ll have no one to hang out with.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t have anything to do. Except homework. I always start on my homework the moment-”

Virgil rolled his eyes, grabbing Logan’s arm and bringing him to the bus stop at a jog.

“Virgil-”

“It takes you what, an hour to do your homework? You can spare a little time to hang out and chill with me. Do you go anywhere like, ever?”

Virgil dropped his arm when he realized he‘d been holding it. He busied himself by pulling out bus money.

“Plus, we can go to that cafe you told me you liked. It’ll be fun.”

“I go places, Virgil.”

“When was the last time you went somewhere that isn’t your house, my house, or school?”

“...Six weeks ago, I believe.”

“My point. Get on the bus.”

~~

“Today was awful.”

“It's only lunch, Virgil.”

Virgil put his head on his folded arms, silently hoping lunch would never end. He was pretty sure he just failed three tests and was about to fail another. He should probably employ study help from Logan, but he was so exhausted. And hungry. Aside from the tests, he’d forgotten both to eat breakfast and bring his lunch, which was probably another contributor to his awful mood.

“Are you going to eat? That usually seems to help if you’re feeling negatively.”

“Don’t have my lunch,” he mumbled through his sleeves.

“You can have mine. You told me earlier you have a test after lunch, you need it more than I do. I’m not very hungry anyway, I wasn’t even planning on eating it.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

Logan fumbled through his bag, pulling out the box he kept it in.

“Sure.”

Virgil slid over, opening the box. He felt an arm wrap loosely around his shoulders. It wasn’t quite a hug. Virgil leaned slightly against Logan, eating quietly, unable to tear his mind off of the warmth in his chest.

~~

No, no no, not that song-

Words of death, destruction, and misery pounded at his head, trying to get in. Calming thoughts, he tried to replace them with. Think of beaches, and fluffy animals and Logan instead of-

Logan? Does Logan make you happy? Well we’re friends, friends- he doesn’t love you, he never will, not even platonically, you’re having such a fucking reaction to this-

“Virgil, can I touch you?”

Logan? Logan’s still here? Tell him yes, you need him- someone.

He managed a nod, feeling warmth cover his ears, felt Logan’s hands press them, blocking out the words. He leaned closer to the source of the warmth, burying his head as close as possible.

Is that okay? Will he hate me?

“Virgil, could you tell me about where you are and what you were just doing before this happened? Please remember where you are, the song isn’t real.”

“W-we’re in your room. I came here, because- because there wasn’t anybody home today and- and you s-said I could come talk and we- we were talking about music and we played My Chemical Romance but then they started playing that and I couldn’t breathe and I need my-”

He groped around for his backpack, digging desperately until he found his headphones. He put them on, holding them tight to his ears. Logan took his phone for him, opening YouTube because Virgil wasn’t really going to be able to use it at the moment with his hands so shaky.

“What do you want me to play?”

“Um- s-sometimes I listen to Be Calm when I have a panic attack but if you just wanna put some album on that’s fine too-”

He tried to breathe, feebly asking Logan to do the pattern, who tapped it out on his hand. He let the music consume him as it filled his ears. He leaned forward when it had been enough to calm his breathing back to normal. Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him closer than they’d ever dared to be before. Virgil barely even noticed, just glad to have something warm offering comfort. After a while, he hugged him back, feeling his body relax a little from the touch.

“Thanks, Lo.”

~~

Fuck fuck fuck-

Virgil swore he was going to tell him today. He was going to say “I like you” and then get rejected or not. Simple. If he was rejected, their relationship would go back to normal and they would forget it even happened.

Will it go back to normal? Will he think you're weird or something and stop being friends with you?

He had to tell him.

Virgil had followed him to the bathroom. He knew it was a stupid idea, but he wouldn’t do it if he waited until after lunch, and he was pretty sure no one but Logan even used the bathroom next to the lunchroom.

“Logan can I talk to you?”

“Friends typically converse, so I don’t see why not.”

Do it quick. Don’t give yourself time to overthink it.

“I, um, I get it if you don’t- I’ll just- like you.”

“...Don’t people usually interact with those they enjoy the company of? I assume you would like me, based on the amount of time we spend together.”

“Like… romantically.”

There was a pause as Virgil looked at the floor, prepared for rejection. He would've seen the blush on Logan’s face if he dared to glance up.

“Of course, I get it if you don’t feel the same, we can be friends still, or if you don’t want to be friends anymore that’s fine too-”

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Virgil finally looked up, finding that Logan had approached him, standing close before him. He felt the warmth on his cheeks and could see it darkening on Logan’s face as well.

“...Yes.”

“Then please do.”

That was the invitation he needed, barely waiting a moment to crash his lips against Logan’s, his heart somersaulting and his mind wondering if this was possible.

He couldn’t help but press harder, turning them around so Logan was pressed up against the wall. He pressed his chest closer until he wasn’t sure it could get any closer. Logan’s glasses were pushed up by Virgil’s nose, his hands reaching up towards Virgil.

“Virgil-”

“Virgil can-”

“Do you want me to stop, I’m sorry, I can stop-”

“No just- will we have to come up with a new agreement?”

Virgil laughed quietly. “Oh, I guess. What, like boyfriend rules?”

Logan leaned back towards Virgil’s lips.

“Something like that.”

[demauryss]

for mtea @bluronyourradar. based on her tags on this post. i had minimum knowledge of how speed dating works so i wrote what came to me with the bit of research i did!!! i hope you like this and i’m sorry for taking too long!!

slow motion (i’m watching our love) 💌 | 3.9 k

in which there’s speed dating, some unexpected friends, a brief stint of matchmaking and a whole lot of sunshine smiles.

Lucas didn’t know what he was expecting to happen when he’d agreed with Mika to come to this … event or whatever it was. Because apparently Lucas was like a house plant Mika had got and forgot to take care of – and now it was starting to rot and needed someone to looks after it pronto.

That had been Mika’s analogy in trying to convince Lucas to try speed dating. Something he hadn’t heard of before. And with the promise of Mika buying all of Lucas’s groceries for the month if he came, Lucas had landed himself in this place. And it was the most recent thing he was regretting.

It’ll be fun, I promise!                      

It’s stupid, is what it is.

He didn’t know what to expect – but it was certainly not resorting to hide in a corner away from Mika’s prying eyes after talking with a total of four people – and being a witness to a very explicit kiss.

He wasn't thinking he'd get anyone when he had agreed to this, if you ask him. His thought process has been more towards getting through the evening with avoiding as much human interaction as he can. But in a succession of events, Mika had dragged him to a table, and Even, taller than nine of Lucases combined and eyes which was the reason why Lucas's tongue had forgot to form words, had approached him, and that was the first negative spike in his brain's specified compartment for dread.

They had talked for eight minutes before the bell rang and Even moved on to the next person. Lucas had learnt he was from Oslo; in his second year of college. He seemed nice, if those eight minutes were anything to go by, and totally someone Lucas would probably consider himself with. 

But there was something nagging inside his brain.

So he'd smiled as Even had left. Totally chiding his brain for worrying about lost potential when there were more pressing matters to discuss. Like why the next person coming after Even looked like a live incarnation Jack Frost. His name was Sander, and he was a David Bowie enthusiast. And then had come Nico and David, one after the other. 

And if it hadn't been for the way his stomach had crumbled at the thought of being with any of them -that he was slowly feeling his insides coming to his throat whenever he as much as smiled at them, that there was this empty hollow feeling inside of him as he sat talking to them despite his brain accepting them to be nice as the first thing it made sense of – Lucas wouldn’t be sitting here in his natural habitat being miserable at cursing his luck.

But as it happens – there was something nagging inside his brain. A black space. A variable entirely missing from the equation.

Lucas looks around the multitude of people all in an assortment of fading lights and a cacophony of voices all going over his head of people conversing. Lucas has never been good at that part, and that's why he finds it all so surreal to see. And it’s between that, hiding from Mika and cursing his fate, that there’s a mild commotion behind him. It would have been impossible to separate it from the discordance around him, had it not been for the way the reason the said commotion is created comes to where he’s sitting in the corner. Lucas, without meaning to, trains his ears on – he does a quick counting in his head – four people.

“I’m just saying,” One of them says, rubbing a hand over his neck. He looks like how Lucas feels after having to deal with a stupid customer on the phone – which is a story of a daily basis, “If you want to find a match, then maybe you should try and – I don’t know – talk to someone! ---

“Shut up Marti! This whole concept is stupid.” The one Lucas assumes to be Isak snaps. He looks tired, and Lucas really can’t argue with that sentiment.

“But it won’t hurt you to try?” Marti begins as a final resort. Isak only glares at him, “I don’t know what you think, but going on a date once doesn’t make you a relationship expert.”

“And especially when you call us in the middle of it to help you fake an emergency so you could run away.” The third person speaks, and Marti turns his murder filled eyes towards him. Lucas watches, heart somewhat lighter, as Marti just about digs the grave of the person in front of him.

“I like you better when you’re stoned, Matteo.” Marti grumbles, and the person in question turns starry eyed towards him, his tongue peeking out as he takes a gulp of the liquid in the glass he’s holding. These people remind Lucas of his own group of friends, those he hasn’t seen in months. With Yann and Basile both gone to spend the summer with their grandparents and Arthur on that science camp he signed up for ages ago – it has been quite some time since he last saw of them.

And now he misses them, terribly.

Marti looks at his friends disapprovingly as Isak and Matteo and the quiet friend whose name Lucas hasn’t got yet fail to hide their laughs at Marti’s distraught expression. He sighs, turning sideways and catching Lucas’s eyes. Lucas feels heat crawling up his neck spreading over his face at the thought of being caught in listening to someone else’s conversation. His initial reaction is to looks away, but his brain prevents him from doing so. Whatever, it’s too late now.

To his surprise, Marti addresses him like he’s talking to an old friend or something. “Please help me clear a point to these idiots,” he begins, “I’ll owe you forever.”

As if on cue, three pairs of eyes turn towards him in sync. Lucas gulps down whatever he was feeling earlier at being caught. “I’m sorry I can’t do that,” Lucas starts, feeling foreign being the subject of unknown gazes.

“Because you also think it’s stupid, right?” It’s Isak who begins with a hopeful cadence in his tone. Marti frowns at him, and Lucas sends a small smile in his direction.

“Well, there’s no denying that.”

The yell that breaks past Isak’s lips as he jumps in triumph raises several eyes in their direction. Lucas chuckles, apologetically looking at Marti who’s watching everything with a scowl on his face.

“I knew you were one of us,” Isak gestures to himself and the two people standing behind him. He looks out into the ground, pulling a sour expression on his face, “No sane person would be willing to spend an entire evening out there. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell this idiot here. But I think he gets it now. Do you, Marti?”

Marti, who has turned his head away from them, grumbles childishly, “Whatever. You guys don’t care for me.”

Isak laughs, and it’s Matteo who comes forward at that instant, wrapping an affectionate arm around Marti’s neck. “Don’t be like that, Marti. We do care for you!”

“Yeah. You’re the one who opens all of our jars when we need them.” The quiet one steps forward, and Lucas watches with Isak next to him. He heaves a sigh, before rolling his eyes, “Yeah yeah, now you can stop being a diva-” he turns to Lucas, “-he’s just being dramatic. Ignore him.”

Lucas laughs, now all unease under the guise of the nervousness which comes from meeting these people. Isak steps forward, taking a seat next to where Lucas is sitting. His friends follow, and soon he’s include in a circle of unknown people in a place he’d rather bolt out of.

“If we’ve reached an agreement here,” Isak pointedly says towards Marti, who is busy drilling holes in his skull. There’s light music present in the air around him, filled with occasional ringing of bell. Lucas ignores it and focuses on Isak. “I’d like to formerly make an introduction. I’m Isak, that’s Marti, Robbe and Matteo, and we’re seriously not having a good time right now.”

Lucas grins, “I’m Lucas, and you can count me in that.”

“Then what brings you here, Lucas?” It’s Robbe – the quiet one – who asks him that. His eyes have a kind look in them, and it’s accentuated by the light hanging over his head.

“My roommate,” Lucas sighs, “He works here, and he kind of convinced me to come and by convinced I mean he offered to buy my groceries for the month, so.”

They laugh, even Marti, who lets his annoyed expression slip for a minute before picking it up again as if nothing happened. It does occur to Lucas that he’s basically oversharing to a bunch of random people he just met. But the thought evaporates when they smile together, a familiar glint to all of their eyes. Lucas follows the warmth and soon, he finds himself getting enveloped.

Matteo smiles, “I was tagged into this Instagram post and someone thought it’d be a good idea to try this out.”

“And I still stand by it,” Marti somewhat grumbles. Lucas chuckles as Isak shakes his head at him. Robbe pats him on the back as Marti turns to Lucas.

“Please tell me you atleast talked to people before forming your opinion instead of criticizing from afar like some people here.”

“Hey!” Isak, Matteo and Robbe shout in unison. Lucas smiles, shaking his head. “Yeah I did meet some people but –“ Lucas shrugs, “-they were not someone I’d consider eating a pizza with brought from my roommate’s money.”

“That makes a lot of sense. Why didn’t I think of it before?” Matteo asks Robbe, who just shrugs. It Marti who bites back, “Because you’re stupid, that’s why.”

Lucas looks between them, as Isak raises his hand, high-fiving Marti over Lucas’s head. This night is going to be fun.

//

Some twenty minutes later, and Lucas is now a member of a groupchat with the four people whom Lucas can now almost call him his friends. (They’ve exchanged numbers, followed each on Instagram, exchanged pretty heavy details of their lives and exchanged some solid opinions on the people they’ve found mildly interesting.)

Now he and Matteo are surveying the crowd, finding someone suitable for Isak to go and talk to since his great epiphany seconds ago about not wasting any chance he’s presented with. (Marti had the most smug ‘I’ve been saying it for ages’ look on his face which Isak had wiped away with a middle finger raised in his direction.) Robbe and Marti were helping them, but it wasn’t up to any use since so far Isak had rejected hundred percent of the guys they had picked, all with the same monotonous ‘I’m not feeling it now.’

And Robbe had coughed a laugh with Marti hiding his face in Robbe’s shoulder, Matteo had whispered under his breath, that’s not the only thing you’re going to not feel tonight if you keep this up, and Isak had landed a smack at the back of his head – and it was when Lucas had realized his evening had turned out quite different from what he was thinking. He may not have found a match tonight, and Mika hadn’t said that he must find one. Atleast he’d be walking out with this memory with four new contacts – and the freedom from worrying about buying his groceries for the next month.

He looks out into the crowd dimmed with light. He doesn’t know if any successful match has been formed yet or not, but he doesn’t have to worry about that for more as he spots Mika sashaying towards him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Damn Lucas,” he says. His eyes turn brighter as his gaze shifts from Lucas to the people sitting around him. “I thought finding one match would take you centuries but you’ve managed to snag four beautiful people from the crowd. I must be teaching you well.”

Lucas rolls his eyes as Mika goes on introducing himself to them. It’s when terms like Lucas’s gay guru and Lucas’s foray for the night are exchanged between the group, that he turns around, way past feeling embarrassed at his roommate’s antics. He’s so used to them now it’s not even funny.

“Okay Mika you can stop it now,” he says, watching as the guys including Mika act entirely too pleased at Lucas’s discomfort. “Sorry to burst your bubble but none of them is my match.”

“Oh he wishes he could get someone like me,” Robbe grins as Marti and Matteo fail to hide their terrible smiles. There’s a moment where Lucas remembers he called them kind, but that’s all gone now.

“Yeah. He was alone and miserable in the corner. If it hadn’t been for us he would have probably died from sadness.” Isak says, elbowing Lucas in his shoulder. Lucas musters his most perfect glare he could in that moment.

“I hate you all.”

“Oh but I don’t!” Mika laughs as if he’s having the time of his life. “I’m not pleased with anything Lucas does in his life, but I’m so proud of him for finding you guys!” He looks like a proud parent, Lucas would have felt to say had it not been for Mika declaring the sentiment himself. “I’ve work to do now, but you guys are welcome to come here anytime you want.”

Mika leaves, and Lucas glares at the four devils now grinning from ear to ear. Lucas rolls his eyes, scowling when their expressions don’t drop.

“Seriously?” Lucas asks.

“Yes,” they all reply in unison, and Lucas shakes his head.

“Now if you’re done being creepy can we go back to the task at hand?”

It gets their attention as Isak straightens up, a serious expression falling on his face. “I’ve come to a conclusion; I’m letting fate decide it for me.” as he speaks, he pulls out a coin from his inner pocket and puts it forward in his open palm in front of Lucas. “Lucas, take this coin and throw it in whatever way you want. If it lands on the floor somewhere, I’d go home and never try speed dating again. But if it lands on a table or hits someone on the head and that person turns then-“

He shrugs, and Lucas doesn’t see the logic in his plan. “It’s stupid,” Robbe says, to which Isak snaps in his direction, “Shut up I’m trying something here.”

So with one last hopeless look shared between Lucas and Marti and Robbe and Matteo, and a hopeful Isak jumping with glee, Lucas takes the coin, throwing it away and –

It follows a perfect projectile, a silver running through air, disappearing for a second. They all watch it and Lucas can swear they’re all holding their breaths. It’s silly, how they collectively exhale when the coin reappears into their vision before landing on-

Even’s table.

Lucas can tell he’s shocked when a coin lands on his table not far from them as he starts looking around. Lucas turns his head to the side, watching Marti and Matteo and Robbe do the same. But Isak- he stays with his stare focused on Even who’s now smiling at someone and Isak looks completely smitten.

“Um…Isak?” Marti waves a hand in front of his face, sharing a look with the three as Isak completely ignores him.

“Lucas you beautiful being!” Isak says, still in a kind of trance as he gets up from his chair. Lucas understands his intentions, and with a pat on his back, Lucas says, “Go on. He’s from Oslo too.”

It’s what sets the deal as Isak sets in motion. “I’ll catch up with you guys later,” he says off-handedly. They watch him make his way to Even, the crowd swallowing him just when he makes his way to the table.

Matteo turns to Lucas, “Is he one of the guys you said you talked too?”

Lucas nods, “Yeah he is – and come to think of it, I think I met some people you guys would like.”

And as Lucas plays matchmaker, he looks for the remaining three people he had met before. It’s funny really – this fate or kismet or whatever was going on when he met these people each of which bears a connection with the people he’d met earlier – and he spots Sander, his lighter than blond hair standing from the crowd. Lucas turns to Robbe.

“You see that guy over there? He’s Sander, and I think you’d be perfect together.”

//

It takes him a minute or two to find Nico and David in the crowd, and it takes him a minute as he convinced Marti and Matteo to go talk with them. Unlike Robbe who had fled straightaway, these two were difficult, and Lucas had resorted to quoting Marti’s own lines to him.

“It doesn’t hurt you to try, does it?”

And now he is left alone on their table as he tries to check up on his friends in the crowd. He had seen Isak disappearing with Even, and he’d shot him a thumbs-up when he’d met his eyes from across the room. The rest of them are still in the talking stage from what Lucas can see, even Mika, who’s now stood talking to someone much too familiarly – and Lucas can’t help but be envious of apparently how easy that looks for him.

He’s thinking of calling it a night after Isak sends a message in their newly formed groupchat, saying how he doesn’t think he’d be back anytime soon (which Lucas kind of guessed, by the way). The other boys reply in variations of same sentiment, and Lucas guesses his attempt at matchmaking was more successful than he thought it would be.

Lucas shakes his head, sending a message back into the groupchat, making sure the guys knew he won’t be missing them if they end up getting murdered tonight.

(But in all seriousness, he tells them to be safe, and he smiles when gets all affirmative responses in return.)

It’s when he’s beginning to leave that he feels a presence beside him. It’s a repeat of just a few moments ago, and he turns, expecting it to be Robbe or Matteo or even Mika and-

-and it’s not them. Not by a long shot.

For a moment it feels like one of Lucas’s daydreams as the light turning green and blue dances over the stranger’s head. His lips are curved in a smile, and Lucas really feels he’s tripped and transported into one of the universes he’s created during many of his bouts of daydreaming.

“Hi. You’re Lucas right?” The stranger’s voice carries over the noise of the club. It’s soft, sweet, and Lucas would have lost it had it not been for the stranger to be standing literally in a meter’s distance of him.

The stranger meets his eyes, and Lucas feels all the conversation skills in him reverting to zero. He was having no problem talking about his life to then-strangers just moments ago. Why does it brain have to be filled with hay now?

“Um – yes?” It comes out as a question, and the person smiles. Lucas feels his idiot brain transporting him to somewhere else – where it’s only him and the stranger, where the voices in the background aren’t filling his mind like white noise and where the sun is shining directly over him so Lucas is able to make out the colours lighting up in the stranger’s eyes.

Lucas’s heart beats heavily in the hollow of his chest.

The stranger cocks his neck to one side, “I’m Eliott,” he says. Eliott, Lucas rolls the name in his head. “And I’ve been watching you play matchmaker for a while and I’ve been meaning to ask -,” he takes a pause; Lucas hangs onto it, “-which of these beautiful boys do you think I’d match perfectly with?”

It’s a wonder Eliott doesn’t notice when Lucas’s heart tears his chest and lands on the table in front of him, beating so heavily it’s a struggle trying to calm it down. Eliott has been watching him. Eliott, who looks like he makes a living out of appearing on billboards and photoshoots, has been watching Lucas for a better part of his night.

Lucas wets his lips, thankful for the dim lighting of the café to hide his burning cheeks. What he wouldn’t give to-

“Do you have your eyes set on someone tonight?” Lucas mirrors the position of Eliott’s head. Eliott’s face lights up even more, and Lucas feels a shiver of unknown reason pass through the length of his spine.

“I do, actually. He has a nice smile and pretty blue eyes. And his hair is the wildest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Lucas looks around, confused for a moment, “That’s like, half of the people here?”

Eliott wrinkles his face adorably. Something jumps inside Lucas’s stomach at the sight. Eliott mutters something under his breath which Lucas fails to catch. And then he looks up, his eyes now gaining a glint which wasn’t there before. Lucas focuses – and it’s of nervousness.

“I suppose I should be more direct,” Eliott begins, taking a step forward so he’s just an inch away from Lucas, “If you’re free now then I’d like to take you somewhere.”

What?

Lucas chokes on the air caught in his throat at Eliott’s sudden statement, neck whipping towards him so fast it’s a wonder he doesn’t break it. Eliott himself looks taken back, and Lucas doesn’t know if it’s at his own words or something else.

“Wait no – that was so straightforward I’m sorry!” Eliott’s voice is frantic, and Lucas feels a beginning of something in his chest. “I – uh – I wanted to know if you’ve found someone tonight.” He says in one single breath. Lucas feels his face getting warm. The good warm you get after spending a day out in the sun as it washes away your sadness and takes it from you as it begins to set. He feels ants crawling inside him – those who begin from his heart and spread like a warm fire all around him with his blood.

Eliott looks like he might mass out when Lucas comes back. This doesn’t happen to him. It isn’t often that people actively seek him out. And here’s him – Eliott – in all his beauty sitting in front of hm. There’s something restless inside his arms, a nervousness which rises from the feeling which he’s refusing from letting it set in his bones.

“I haven’t,” Lucas’s voice is small, but it’s everything which brings a light to Eliott’s face which he can’t wait to follow. The warmth settles over him, and Lucas turns his head to the side when it becomes too much. He finds the guys, minus Isak, who have now taken the role of an audience for Lucas, and apparently look shameless when Lucas catches them staring.

(It isn’t like Lucas can judge them or anything.)

Lucas tries to convey a message to them with his eyes, and they get it, thankfully, as they turn to their respective partners, now forming a small circle which Lucas watches from afar. He turns to Eliott, his eyes in half-moons and smile in all suns. It really feels like a dream, and he wastes no moment in sending a prayer above.

“So – the place you wanted to take me?”

Eliott laughs, his voice soft and high. He leans forward, and Lucas meets him halfway.

[pumpkinofthedale]

Friends... it is now.... well over 13k words and i’m maaaaybe a little over halfway done with the first chapter.... but I am a slut for positive reinforcement.... so here is another excerpt from my cronus fic (I see you and love you)

“Seriously, if you hate it that much give it back.”

“Nope, it’s crispmass and you gave me a gift. Even if it’s the worst gift anyone’s ever given me.” His words were slurred, v’s and w’s blurring together.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the next step up. From this angle you could see lavender from the Christmas lights bouncing off the thin membranes of his fins. And maybe it was the alcohol, or the faint nostalgic music coming from the other room, but you couldn’t help but stare. Polished orange horns shining with little rainbows dots, a small smile on his grey lips. He was breathtakingly pretty.

“At least you gave me a present I guess. None of my other asshole friends did. Like I get most of them are gutterblood trash-”

He just had to ruin the mood, didn’t he.

“Shooshooshoosh.” You grimaced and put your finger on his lips to quiet him and he froze; Stock still, eyes wide as he stared at you like a deer in the headlights. “God, you’re so fucking pretty, but literally everything that comes out of your stupid mouth is ugly.” You snapped. “So just… shut the actual fuck up for a little while.”

His fins fluttered a little and he seemed to look everywhere except directly at you. You realized after a few moments that you still had your finger on him and removed it, but didn’t look away. In the dim light of the room you could faintly see a violet flush tinting his cheeks, another one of those peculiar expressions on is face.

For a few minutes there was a blissful silence except for the muffled music as Cronus worried his bottom lip between his sharp teeth. “You uh... You really think I’m pretty….?” He asked after a while, finally turning to face you.

You shrugged, drinking some more eggnong. “Yeah. When you’re not being a complete and total d-bag, so uh… very infrequently. You’re kind of a douche a lot.”

He let out a soft, breathy laugh.

“But like... physically? You’ve got a lot going for you…. For an alien I guess. Not that I really know how you guys measure physical attractiveness. But by human standards… your aesthetic is immaculate.” You gave him an appraising look and his fins fluttered again. “But your vibes are rancid as fuck, dude.”

His lips curled back in a sneer showing off those perfectly even teeth, and you couldn’t help but wonder if trolls had orthodontics… Were those perfect teeth the product of genetics or did he have to wear braces as a kid. You failed to stifle a snicker at the thought.

It seemed to throw him off guard because the threat display dropped immediately.

“I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, just alien braces.” You waved him off.

He gave you a quizzical look, but didn’t press you for any more details. He fell silent once more, staring down into the depths of the mug in his hands, fingers fidgeting and clenching. The Christmas music hung heavy in the air.

The snow’s coming down

I’m watching it fall

Lots of people around

Baby please come home

A pang of went through your heart and your grip on your eggnog tightened….

“So where’s this boyfriend you keep talking about?” Cronus asked. “Afraid I’d steal him away from you if he came?” He raised an eyebrow, lopsided grin growing on his face.

You swallowed, sighing and closing your eyes, trying to drown out the Christmas music through sheer force of will.

“He uh… he’s in Minnesota.”

“Gesundheit.”

A soft laugh escaped your throat. “Halfway ‘cross the country.” You explained.

“Oh shit… What’s he doing out there on crispmas?” You chanced a glance over at him, and were surprised to see his brow furrowed, head tilted… he looked… genuinely concerned.

“He lives out there… so does his family.” You were thankful when your voice didn’t crack or waver. “I was supposed to go visit him, but y’know,” You shrugged, “Life happens.”

“Shit, chief, so you’re tellin’ me,” He paused to let out a bewildered half chuckle. “You’re tellin’ me you’re in a relationship and you still ain’t getting any...?” He made an odd, but recognizably lewd gesture with his hand.

“Relationships are about more than sex, Cronus.” You mumbled, trying not to think about the fact that you were going to be very, very alone this Christmas.

“Well, yeah. I know that.” He rolled his eyes. “But like… don’t you get lonely?”

Your jaw clenched, you were simultaneously way too drunk and not drunk enough for this conversation. “Nope. Never.”

Loneliness whom? You do not know her. (If you tell yourself enough, it’ll be true. That’s how emotions work, right?)

He pursed his lips, eyes narrowing as he searched you for something.

Ah fuck, was he making an insight check? Is that what insight checks looked like? Did you roll high enough on your deception?

“Humans are fuckin’ weird as hell.” The sea-troll said after a few moments. “I just don’t get it. Like what kind of quadrant are you even in that that sort of distance makes sense? I’d say flushed but you ain’t even pailing so what’s the point of it?”

“Pailing?” What the fuck kind of bullshit….

“Sex.” Cronus opened his mouth as if to say more, but closed it with an exasperated huff instead. He definitely looked like he wanted to keep probing you (heh) for more information, but he just stared into the contents of his mug.

I’d hold back this tear

But it’s Christmas day

Baby please come home

Baby please come home

Michael Buble finally finished his pining, and were immediately assaulted by Elvis pleading with Santa to bring his baby back to him.

Fuck… you could just not catch a break tonight.

The fuckboy next to you was unusually silent, leaving you stewing in your own thoughts like some sort of asshole without distracting you. How absolutely inconsiderate of him.

Finally an overtly religious Christmas classic started playing, tacky, respectable Christmas music that wasn’t constantly reminding you that your boyfriend was halfway across the country and your family was on a different continent.

Actually... a few songs passed (which you’d begun humming along to) before Cronus spoke again.

“Why doesn’t anyone like me?”  

His voice was soft as he stared longingly into the other room, past the set of french glass doors where the rest of the party was; silhouettes of people mingling and muffled laughter. “I… I know people don’t like me, I just don’t get why. I try so, so hard… and I just can’t figure out what people want. I….” He trailed off.

You watched him for a moment, but he never stopped gazing through the glass.

“Do you want an honest answer?” Normally, you would revel in the chance to make an exhaustive list of his many flaws, but the expression on his face was so different from what you were used to, and the warmth of Bing Crosby’s voice made you pause.

And you think you may have finally figured out what Cronus was about.

He looked at you with big violet eyes, chewing on his bottom lip, then nodded.

And everything about him hit just a little too close to home.

“Well,” You took a deep breath, “I… I think I get you now. Where you’re coming from at least… because I’ve been there before. And I guess I want to help you.” And began to explain to him exactly why he was such an unlikable bastard starting with the callous way he treated his friends, blatant attempts at manipulation, his casual use of what you’re pretty sure are slurs, or at least really rude words, how there’s nothing genuine about how he presents himself, finishing on a softer note with the overwhelming amount of body spray and cologne he wore.

And to his credit, he just sat there and listened (though his fins drooped more and more with each new bullet point).

You did your best to be as constructive as possible, but the increasingly dejected look on his face left you feeling… less satisfied than how you would have imagined a moment like this would feel. When you finished, you couldn’t help but reach down and take his hand in your own, threading your fingers together.

He was cold to the touch, skin smooth besides a few thin ridges along the sides of his fingers. He stiffened for a moment before relaxing just a bit, squeezing your hand back tight enough to almost be uncomfortable.

You sat like that for a little while, hand in hand

You took another sip of your eggnog, starting to get a little sick of the taste.

Cronus’ eyes were glassy as though he was blinking back tears, and you felt kind of bad. It was definitely something that he had to hear, and you’d tried to do it as tactfully as possible… but you were very drunk, and you weren’t great with words or comforting or emotions even when you weren’t.

Fuck… you’re pretty sure you heard him sniffle a little.

“If I’m really so awful, why’d you even come over here?” His voice wavered a little, but didn’t crack, staring down into his hot toddy (that you had so painstakingly prepared and was probably delicious as hell and not at all disgusting like Cronus kept insisting).

You took a moment, breathing deeply and giving his hand a squeeze.

“Because no one deserves to be alone on Christmas.” He finally looked back at you again, violet eyes locking with your own… damn even when he was a wreck he was pretty. You wished you were half that pretty when you were having an existential crisis.

And before you even realized what you were doing, you had brought his hand to your lips to place a chaste kiss to his knuckles.

It couldn’t have lasted for more than half a second, but you had never seen anyone look so incredibly flustered in their life. His eyes went wide, almost round like egg yolks with little purple gems in them, a deep violet flush on his cheeks, fins flicking. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water (you would have laughed if you hadn’t been too drunk to realize the appropriateness of the analogy), but all that came out was a shaky exhale.

Cronus looked away and buried his face in his forearm, a very alien clicking sound coming from his throat, a small smile playing on his lips.

“You know I really thought we had a good black rapport…. I thought you hated me….” He mumbled after a minute with a little drunk giggle.

Well he wasn’t wrong… you definitely hated him. Or at least… you hated everything he represented. Or… you thought you did. “Well, I mean you definitely weren’t my favorite person in the world…. But hate’s a little harsh.” (To say out loud.)

He snorted. “Oh I was definitely waxin’ pitch for ya. I thought that’s why you gave me this gross drink.”

“It’s delicious, and if you keep insulting my beautiful concoction I’m gonna get mad.”

His laugh was breathy, “No, it’s legitimately disgusting as hell.” The troll chanced a glance at you, cheeks still flushed a bit, a candid, lopsided smile on his face. “’m not even pitch flirting anymore, this is the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

[call-me-merlyn]

I found a list of my favorite things you ever said to me. I cried in a way that I haven’t since I was a small child- broken by my parents’ words, mistakes, and anger. I curled my knees to myself and remembered that I can do hard things. I started to wonder where we went wrong. Because my feelings for you never changed. But then I realized that was never the issue. These words I read now ring as true today as they did over the four years you wrote them. But I want them back. I want you back. I want pragmatism and growth. I want to talk about the hard things and work them through. But I can’t tell you that. I can’t tell you anything because you don’t want to hear it. Because you’re hurt and you want space. So if you stumble upon this blog- the one I told you not to look at all those years ago- I will let a few snippets of your words remind you. Mind you, these are 12 out of about 30.

1. Baby. I want the future with you. It just hit me so hard. I want the visions I have. I want us and I don't see that changing. We are the most beautiful couple I have ever encountered. Not just because we're both convinced the other is drop dead gorgeous, but because I see such magnificent potential in us, together. We are that rare couple that could actually have the dream life that everyone wants and fears is impossible or that they don't deserve it. Health, happiness, adventures, perfect children, successful careers, growth and excitement, cuddles, intellectual stimulation, respect for each other, kisses that leave us breathless, freedom, good friends that we both care about, a lovely home, a dorky dog or five, all the sex we can handle, our families coming together wonderfully, and true fucking love. I want it all with you and I believe that we can have it with all my heart. Ugh I want it and I'm so excited to build towards the future we want. With you. Every damn day, one day at a time.

2. Morning love. To build a home? I'll always like yours more. I'm binging your music this morning. Speaking of songs that make me cry. Night in shining armor? I love that whole analogy. Your words are one of my favorite things about you. I love the music that spills from your lips, whether you're singing or laughing or reading or teasing me. It's all heavenly music to my ears. I'm so proud to be your person, your once and future someone. I love you so much. The dark times have passed baby, you brought the light back into my life.

3. This one's hard to explain. I've never met someone who is such a clean harmony. Your identity, your character, is a beautiful, pure chord. Every interaction I have with you I hear that resonance, and the notes weave together perfectly. That chord resonates with who I am on such a deep level, and I could hear it from the very first moment we interacted. I want to listen to that chord every day, to hear it form your melody, day in and day out. Puzzle out it's layers and listen to you add more. And to play my own song to match yours, to create our own wonderful song in this life.

4. You elicit feeling so well with words, sometimes it makes me feel inadequate

The way you express yourself so effortlessly

Because I've always prided myself on communicating verbally

But it comes pretty effortlessly to me too

Especially when I talk about you

I know I keep coming back to this, I'm sorry

But it resonates so strongly with me

To imagine you as a song, chord, or melody

The way your music weaves with mine

Haunting, ethereal, and divine

You make my eyes and heart shine

With love and affection, at my most painful times

When I can't feel it about myself

You come to my house and put happy memories upon my shelf

I want to show you how much you mean to me

So that you will always see

You are my light

And in the middle of the night

When I roll over and feel your breath

On my neck, I don't fear death

Because a life next to you is a life worth living

The love I have for you is a love worth giving

5. I was watching How I Met Your Mother, and to be honest that show really means a lot to me. I'm not sure why I bonded it with it so hard, it feels kind of silly in retrospect, but I did. In the episode, the main character runs into the girl who left him at the altar for another man, and they talk about true love and who you choose to be with. And the guy has an open moment about his yearning for that special connection that people find so rarely. That spark between people that's so unique and magical when it occurs. The song Careful by Michelle Featherstone plays in the background. I'm sure you've heard it, and it just pulled at my heartstrings. Maybe listen to it as you read this? Bc I am as I write. It makes me think of you. I've said it before, and the words fall flat, but I'm so damn grateful for you. Every piece of you. The fractals, the perfectly formed little moments of unadulterated Merlyn, that come together to form this perfectly cohesive being of fucking light. You know me. And I don't like to admit that I falter, or that I need help from anyone. It goes against what I've been trained to be by my father, my experiences, and my own cynical nature. Before you walked into my life...I wasn't entirely happy. I was missing something. I could feel it. And it made me ache. I went looking for it everywhere, even though I wasn't sure what it would look like when I found it. But I knew how it would feel. And you... you rescued me. From my own damn self. I'm prone to loneliness for a number of reasons. I'm solitary. I like to be independent. I'm proud. I can be harsh and judgmental. I get exhausted by humanity. I can be very sensitive when I'm vulnerable, and I don't like to give more than a handful of people the power to touch my heart. But since you walked into my life? I don't have to look anymore. I have never felt such constantly genuine, gentle, fierce, and unselfish support from anyone. Not from my parents, not from friends, my cousins, my lovers. No one has ever looked at me the way you do. No one has ever been so unyieldingly loving. Every time I have trusted you with more of my heart and my self, you do your absolute best to make me feel valued and loved. No matter how that best manifested, I have always felt your effort. You are always careful with my heart. I used to carry around this utter, soul crushing feeling that I missed someone. Someone vital. But there was no one to miss. And I didn't know where to direct that desire for connection. I got lonely because I wanted someones company...that I didn't know. But since I met you, I haven't felt that even once. I have only rarely felt lonely, and even in those moments, it was because I fucking missed YOU. Your laugh, your touch, our connection. And that's such a revelation to me. To know the face of the person I feel I've been missing all this time. It's been you. I love you, Merlyn. You are an unparalleled treasure to me.

6. God damn it Merlyn, I have so much love for you. I'm so lucky to have you, the thought of losing you is a nightmare. I want late night quesadillas and then to push each other to eat right. I want to scoff at each other's baby names until we get to ones we both love. I want to be your shoulder to lean on, cry on, or try to dislocate with a kimura. I want yours to be the same for me (maybe without the kimura bit?) I want to sing duets with you and write stories on lazy Sunday afternoons. I want to make you grin and I want to make you bite your lip. I want to hear your breathing every night when I go to sleep. I want to put Tristan on my shoulders, have a debate with Chris, try to get your cat to like me. I want you to cuddle into me and let me hold you at night even when I get hot because you're the most precious fucking thing in the world to me. I want you to train with my dad and shop with my mom. I want to get drinks with your mom and laugh at your dad's dirty jokes. I want to travel with you, go jet skiing on tropical islands and throw snowballs at each other in the mountains. I want to walk around crowded cities with you until I get too anxious but you tell me to chill out and stop being such a baby about it. I want to hear my daughter call you mother. I want to see you spin like you did when I first walked you home. Nothing brings me more joy than the thought of sharing the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between with you. Nothing is worth jeopardizing that future for me. I love you with all that I am. Count on it.

7. I just read all your words top to bottom and they hit me hard. I've been looking at them as bits and pieces. One day, one note at a time, not a tapestry. All together in one sitting, I can just feel where your heart was, and maybe still is. I hope it still is in some ways, because I've never been loved like how you love me. Not with such admiration or surety. I've never been wanted the way you want me. It makes me feel simultaneously unworthy and determined to live up to your love. It breaks me to feel the pain in your pen strokes. I want to wrap you up in my arms and fend away anything that would ever make you cry. I hate myself sometimes for making you cry. It breaks me every time, a corruption of my purpose. Every time, to read the simple words "today was hard..." It rips me apart. I love, live to see you smile. To laugh with you. To make music with you, whatever the form. I'm sorry for all the pain I've ever caused you, my darling. It's never my intention. You are my most precious gift, and words fall short of expressing the breadth and complexity of my feelings for you. They boil down to what you've written over and over again though: I want this life with you. I want all the complications, all the routine days, all the late night phone calls, and the adventures. I want to walk around knowing we have the same last name. I want you. Endlessly I want you. I wish I could pull a fragment of that feeling out of my chest and give it to you just so that you'd understand. God I miss you. I love you. You are my partner, and I hope that stays true for the rest of our lives. I can't say it enough. You are everything to me. I want you to express every part of you, never stop, because I love them all. Every mellifluous note in your melodies, every word of poetry in your fascinating mind, every fierce moment on the mat, every tear that falls in your fragile, vulnerable moments. I want to be there. To give you love and to be the best partner I can be. For you. God I can never say enough

8. Kay I'm heading to bed so gonna write this out. It's difficult. Love defies definition by its very nature. Which is a paradoxical statement right out the gate but whatever. I started writing my response in a philosophical approach but it didn't feel right. There's no need to ramble about Forms or essence or any of that philosophy mumbo jumbo. All that matters is how you opened my eyes. I used to think that love was about passion above and to the detriment of everything else. I used to think that love and pain were joined at the hip, inseparable. I used to fear that love was a curse, a burden, a surrender. I used to think that to fall for someone was a trap, and that you were taking a terrible gamble by giving someone the power to destroy you. I used to think that relationships were ropes and that love was a noose. I used to think that love was jealous, demanding, forceful, combative. I used to think that love was sporadic and messy. I used to think that there was no true, sustainable happiness to be found. You've turned it all around. Hell, you've upended the board and thrown away the rulebook. You've shown me that love is a balance of passion and choice, that they should play off each other build each other up. One is useless without the other. Passion will burn you out, but so too can you drown going through the motions. I've been through both. You're the only one that has struck the balance with me. You've shown me that the only necessary pains from love are the growing pains. I've been given and dealt horrible wounds, been through wars. Our relationship is the only one in which both parties can put their weapons down. You've shown me that love is a tank of oxygen when you're drowning, a shoulder to lean on, an investment. Trusting you with my heart has liberated and empowered me. I believe that trusting me with yours has done the same for you. We use that understanding of each other to lend strength, to give joy, to protect. You've shown me that relationships are lanterns and that love is the sun. You lit up my world. You've shown me that love is generous, thoughtful, gentle, supportive. You've shown me that it's steady and pure. You've shown me that happily ever after isn't just in storybooks. It's attainable. We have an obligation to chase it. We've been given a gift. And I will be grateful for it for the rest of my life. I will cherish it. I will cherish you. You've given me everything. You are my true love. Goodnight I hope you sleep well

9. Darling, gorge yourself on my love

I pray to God that it’s enough

To fill you up and keep us above

The water line of that rising slough

Darling, gorge yourself on my heart

I pray to God it’s what you need

Ignore the pain in the darker part

Come home again to me to feed

Darling, gorge yourself on my mind

I pray to God it’s what you want

Those angry echoes you may find

Don’t let them drive you from this haunt

Darling gorge yourself on me

I pray to God I’m what you crave

I know I’m flawed but I can be

The one who saves you, the one you save

Oh darling, I’ll gorge myself on you

On your mind and body, heart and soul

So darling, gorge yourself on me too

To keep us human, keep us whole

10. I want us to be tethered by the sea, to back each other to the hilt, to paint the walls red with love, to get lost in the light. Baby I promise I will take true care of you, tell you that some things last, and know you better than your piano. Because you found me. You came out of nowhere, you made me fall in love with a single touch, and this ain't a haunted house no more. I can't take my mind off of you. Only you can help me to forget the terror that comes and goes in waves. You keep me warm, and I know that all will be well and we'll be just fine. So don't give up love. Three more months, flyin your way home to me. We'll be inches apart and even closer at heart. So send me your location, cause I'm jealous of the wind that ripples through your clothes. Put your eyes on me, and I know a place that we can get away. Say you won't let go, tell me it's real, and let's go somewhere only we know. We won't need to take our clothes off to have a good time, but I'll get the lights and you lock the door, cuz we won't leave that room til we both feel more. Cause I see it all without the lights. No one will ever see you the way my eyes do. You are something to behold. Elegant and bold, you are unforgettable. You are the fire and the flood. Last night I woke the fuck up, realized I never wanted anything so much as to drown in your love. If you could read my mind love, what a tale my thoughts could tell. I feel life for the very first time: love in my arms and the sun in my eyes. Ohh I fall apart, and I can't help falling in love with you. I still can't believe that I found love where it wasn't supposed to be. Right in front of me. At (college). I made a fumbling play for your heart, and the act struck a spark. I want to be with you for the rest of my life and beyond. No grave can hold my body down. I'll crawl home to you and go straight into your arms. I'm in love with all that you are.

11. You always wonder about the future. What makes you different from the others. There are infinite answers, but some of the biggest ones are that..you make me understand and feel things that people always say but never mean. Until you, I've never truly wanted all of someone. And I mean it when I say I want ALL of you. I am in love with every inch of you, every word that comes out of your mouth, every little habit, every quirk. I have wanted every piece of you in every moment that I've known you without fail. I have never adored anyone or anything so much. You are perfection to me. In the truest sense of the word baby. You make the cliches make sense. You make them feel not cliche. It's incredible. You make sense in my bones. I am so in love with you. I can picture nothing more glorious than a life with you. That's how I know you're the one. Because it's obvious. And when it's right, it should just he obvious. Easiest choice in the world.

12 Goodnight ____. I hope you sleep well. I really enjoyed hanging out and listening to you play tonight. I know you were half joking about how I should be paying you compliments, but your music abilities really are such a gift. It always makes me happy when you use them. You get this energy about you that’s so wonderful to see. I’m listening to your soundcloud stuff again now. Been a while since I’ve done that, haven’t had access to the account for a bit. I wish you had more of your stuff on here. It’s all so lovely. It always makes me think about us. You don’t seem to care for it much, but especially To My Future Someone. I hope I live up to all you dreamt I’d be when you wrote those words. I hope to the gods I’m the one you sang about. Because you are everything I ever wanted in a true love, and more. Things that I didn’t even know I needed. You’ve made me a kinder, much more grateful man. And a happier soul. You deserve the best in this world, and I’ll always do my utmost to be him. I’m so in love with you. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, my light. Sweet dreams.

When did the thought of losing me stop being a nightmare? Because the hurt was never more than this. Never more than this love. You said in another snippet that you’d do anything to be the person I built a home with; you’d do your best to be the my person and to never hurt me. But you don’t want to be with me. And you chose your nightmare over your dreams. And I still choose you. I still chose you every second of every fucking day. It was my nightmare too and I’m living it.

But, I’m changing. I’m harder now. The tears don’t fall quite as easily as they used to. And at least I know who I am now. I am a warrior. I am beautiful. I am strong. I am new. Don’t think 8 weeks can change someone?? Come see me again. I’ll show you exactly who I’m not anymore. The only thing that hasn’t changed is my love for you.

And if you want to lose these words and this love, so be it. I won’t fight you. I won’t fear you or that anymore. I don’t want to be the only one fighting. I can’t. And I won’t be afraid of my worst nightmares because they have come true and even though I pray I won’t lose you, nothing in this life is certain. If you don’t want to fight, I will be someone else’s light someday. And I will shine unashamed; unabashed; strong and sure. I will bring beautiful children, music, and love into the world. But until then, I’ll be my own light, and set my darkness aflame every morning, just as I have since the day you left. After all, there’s not much darkness left anymore.

[welcometophu]

Not Your Guardian Angel: Chapter 10

Marked Book 3: Not Your Guardian Angel

Chapter 10

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Hey. I overheard some of your conversation the other day. We were all at the same table. Anyway. You said your dad is part of the Church?

Pels frowns at Ángel’s text, not sure how to take it. I guess that depends on what Church you’re talking about but yes, my stepfather’s one is very capital C about it.

I’m Catholic, Ángel replies.

Pels snorts. She sits cross-legged on her bed, her homework spread out across the mattress while she tries to work through it. Jennifer has music playing on the other side of the room, but it’s low enough that it doesn’t bother Pels at all. If Nikita were here, she’d be angry about it, Pels is sure of that. But Pels doesn’t mind a little bit of noise. Besides. She can almost hear the music from Pat and Jackson’s room from down the hall, too.

Peter’s not Catholic, Pels replies. I don’t even know what kind of Christian he is. We all just call it the Church. It’s very… old-fashioned.

Our parish back home is pretty good, but there are some people in the Catholic church that aren’t as open or accepting. Is your—Peter, is he okay with Talent?

Not really, no. He preaches against it all the time, Pels sends it, then adds, What about your priests?

I don’t think they care. I mean, our parish has a lot of Mages and Lince, and I always thought they were fine with it, that they knew God accepted us, whether Talented or not. Then I found out there was a small part of the Catholic church that called themselves something like the servants of the cross. I didn’t really go digging into it more than that once I figured out they weren’t my real problem at the time, but when I heard you talking about your—Peter. I thought of it.

Pels makes a face at her phone. Are you trying to tell me you’re worried about me?

Yes.

“That’s weirdly sweet,” Pels murmurs.

“Isn’t it?” Dad agrees. He picks up her papers, waves them until they crinkle. “Homework, Pels. You’re getting distracted, and you don’t have chaos to blame if your assignments go missing.”

No, but she could blame Dad, if anyone—well, anyone other than the few who do—knew he existed.

I’m okay, she promises Ángel. I know how to stay out of Peter’s way, and that’s part of why I came back early. But if you ever hear anything about your Catholic cross people breaking off to create a fundamentalist Christian sect that hates Talents… let me know, okay? I’d be curious to hear more about it.

I can do that.

Her phone goes silent, and she drops it on her pillow. After a moment, she reconsiders and shoves it under her pillow, just in case.

At the knock on the door, she gives up, piling her papers neatly and setting them off to the side. “Come in,” she calls out, as the music goes off and Jennifer turns to face the door.

“Hey,” TJ says. He smiles, but there’s no light in it, which seems strange. He stands in the doorway with it open, but doesn’t step into the room. “I just heard from Student Life, and I wanted to let you know what’s going on.”

He looks a little like he can’t decide whether to come in or run away, and when Dad pulls the door wide, TJ stumbles. Pels can’t remember ever seeing him caught flat-footed before. His cheeks go a warm rose flush, bright against his fair skin.

“Maybe you should sit down?” Pels suggests. Jennifer sinks back into her own chair, as TJ pulls out the chair from Nikita’s desk, turning it so he can sit and face them, creating a small triangle between them all.

“On Saturday, during an authorized Coven ritual, something appears to have gone… wrong.” TJ pauses between words, licking his lips as he picks through them. Pels’s stomach twists, and she makes a small noise. “No one’s dead,” he says quickly. “Just… missing.”

“Missing,” Jennifer says slowly. “How?”

TJ shakes his head. “I don’t know. Apparently Pawel was doing a ritual of some kind, and his son went next door with a friend. When his son came back, Pawel and the others were gone. That includes both Nikita and Alaric, along with a few others. Obviously it’s being looked into, but the person they would normally call is—”

“Professor Szczek,” Pels supplied.

“Pawel. Yes,” TJ confirms. “I’m sure Nikita and the others are safe. There’s absolutely no evidence at the house that anything’s wrong, and while Pawel’s son is worried, he seems calm. They said he’s not that surprised. I don’t know what that really means,” he admits. “It does mean that all activities that Pawel runs on campus—Coven and taekwondo—are canceled until he returns. And if you can think of anything Nikita might have said that would help the investigation, Student Life is collecting information for the investigation.”

Pels looks down at her papers as if they hold an answer, then slowly shakes her head. “We don’t really talk about things like that. And her and Jennifer—”

“We don’t talk. We yell,” Jennifer says dryly. “Which you already know. But you’re right, Nikita always had something going on, and she and Alaric were definitely involved in something major. I’d think Rory would be likely to know more about it.”

“He’s going to talk to a friend of his, if he can get in touch with her.” TJ rises carefully, the chair sliding under the weight of him leaning on it. “If something does come up, let me know. And if I hear anything, I’ll let you know, too.”

Missing.

TJ shutting the door seems like the period on that sentence, a moment of finality.

“I just thought she was with Heather,” Pels murmurs.

“She probably is still with Heather. Those two are glued together, aren’t they?” Jennifer points out. She starts to gather up her notebook, then pauses. “If Nikita’s not going to be back, I can probably cancel my study date and just work here. I was only going to the library so I could focus.”

“Aren’t you worried?” Pels blurts out. She can’t stop thinking about it. Missing. Disappeared. Just… not existing in this space anymore. She glances at Dad, and he spreads his hands.

“I don’t have answers for you,” Dad replies.

“What good are you,” she mutters.

Jennifer snorts. “Seriously? You’re angry at me because I’m not crying that Nikita hasn’t made it back from whatever magical shit she’s doing this time? You’re talking about our roommate who spins up catastrophic winter weather on a whim. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“What if she’s not?”

“There’s nothing you can do about this one,” Dad points out. “Pels, this isn’t something you can—”

She makes a frustrated noise at him and he thankfully shuts up.

“Pels.” Jennifer pulls her chair over, sitting with several feet between them. “I am not so cold that I hope something happened to Nikita. We don’t get along. That’s obvious. But she’s still a person and I don’t wish her ill. But at the same time, it’s kind of nice right now. Like a little mini vacation.”

“A mini vacation,” Pels says slowly. “I just.” She picks up her phone, then sets it down before she can text anyone. Who would she text? “There’s nothing we can do. I feel helpless. And there are a lot of times when I feel helpless, but this is worse than usual.”

“I’m guessing she’s going to come out of it just fine. She always does,” Jennifer says. “She’s one of those people who just brings chaos everywhere she goes without thinking about how it affects the people around her.”

“Her innate Talent is as a Weather Witch, not chaos.” Pels is pretty sure she knows the difference, although she might have to admit that Nikita feels more chaotic than Shane to her. Shane’s methodical. He’s careful, like he knows the rug might be pulled out from under him at any moment, whereas Nikita just keeps pushing through things, no matter the barrier.

“To me she feels like chaos,” Jennifer says bluntly. “And her particular kind of chaos is as loud as an orchestra to me.”

“That’s a new one,” Dad says.

“Yeah,” Pels replies. “I have not heard that analogy before.”

Jennifer sits upright, her chin lifted and back straight. “I am not mundane,” she says stiffly. “But my Talent isn’t particularly useful, either. Or at all. I hear sensations. It might be a form of synesthesia, but the specialists I’ve spoken to aren’t familiar with it at all.”

“Am I going to offend you if I say I have no idea what you’re talking about?” Pels isn’t used to Jennifer opening up and offering information, and she’s not sure if she should just listen, or offer something of her own in return.

“It’s—” Jennifer falters. “When she’s here, her Talent kicks up, and it’s like sandpaper on my skin, and I hear these discordant sounds rising up. She’s deafening. Every second around her is like chaos, and those winds whispering aren’t fun. I don’t like the way they feel or sound. It’s too much.”

Dad is standing by the door, far from where Jennifer sits. Pels glances between him and her. “I’m surprised I don’t bother you. I have my own weird brand of chaos.”

Jennifer laughs at that. “You’re incredibly peaceful, actually. You’re quiet. You sit there and do your work. You don’t try to touch me, and you don’t throw Talent around the room like you’re trying to blanket us in snow. You avoid people and nothing strange ever happens around you.”

Pels narrows her gaze. Is Jennifer just not seeing things?

“I don’t touch her either,” Dad says quietly. “Nikita, on the other hand, must touch her all the time, even without meaning to.”

In this case, having a Talent with a mind of its own—literally, not figuratively—might be a good thing. Rather than simply having a Talent that she can’t control, like Nikita.

“Anyway.” Jennifer turns her chair, leaving her back to Pels, and switches her music back on. “I’m worried. She’s human, and I hope she’s okay. But I just can’t—I can’t let her chaos get to me even when she’s not here. If there’s anything I can do to help out, I’ll do it. But right now, I’ve got an assignment due by midnight, and it’s actually peaceful in our room, so I’m going to get that done.”

“Why?” Pels wants to bite the word back as soon as she asks it. “Not why are you doing your homework—that’s obvious. There must be something good about your Talent.”

Jennifer hunches over her desk. “It’s not always unpleasant,” she admits. “Nikita’s grating, and I think that has a lot to do with her lack of control. Some soft things sound like a lullaby. Jello tastes like water sounds, which is strangely peaceful. I can tell where I am with my eyes closed, by how the air sounds on my skin. And if someone uses Talent to touch me, I always know. Talent is louder than anything else, and there’s a tone to it. It’s different for every person, and sometimes it changes with intent.”

“That sounds like a lot,” Pels says quietly.

“It is a lot.”

Pels looks to Dad, who is keeping his distance from Jennifer. “Well. I can promise that I will never touch you with my Talent, to the best of my ability,” she says solemnly.

Dad places a hand over his heart and nods his agreement.

“Thanks.” Jennifer waves a hand, and Pels feels a little like she’s been dismissed.

She’s not going to get her work done right now anyway; she’s not in the right frame of mind for it. She pushes past Dad to get out of the room, closing the door carefully behind her.

“That was a bonding moment,” Dad observes.

“Was it? Because a part of me feels like she told me to push me away and get me to stop bugging her about Nikita,” Pels says quietly.

“You could be right. But the point is, she trusted you enough to say it.” Dad leans against the wall when Pels raps on Rory’s door. After no answer, she knocks louder. Sharper. Dad catches her hand before she knock again.

“I don’t think he’s there.”

Pels pulls her hand from his. “He’s probably with Kit.” It only makes sense, since Carolyn was one of the people at that thing Professor Szczek did, along with Alaric. She’s not going to go chasing after him, but she does send a quick text to say, TJ let us know what’s going on. You okay?

She didn’t grab a jacket when she left the room, and while the weather’s improving as spring wears on, it’s not really warm enough to go anywhere without one. She gets as far as the stairs and hesitates there, glancing back to find her dad, half-expecting him to tell her what to do.

He’s not there.

It’s rare enough to be alone, and rarer still when there’s something going on. Apparently for once, Dad is out of opinions.

There’s a sudden shift in sound—raucous guitar cutting off and shifting into jangling circus music. Pels takes a slow step to the other half of the floor, hesitating before committing to the thought.

She shouldn’t.

But why not?

She lets her feet carry her to the slightly cracked door of Pat and Jackson’s room. She raises her hand to knock just as her phone buzzes. She wrangles it from her pocket just as Jackson pulls the door open and leans on it, staring down at her.

Not really, but we will be, Rory sent. It’s not like there’s much we can do about it now except wait for them to come back from wherever they’ve disappeared off to.

Pels shoves the phone back in her pocket, taking a step back to look up at Jackson. She can hear the game music in the background, where Pat and TJ both sit on the floor, controllers in hand. She hooks her thumbs in her pockets like this is totally normal and not weird at all. “I came over to lose,” she says.

“Eloquent,” Dad replies.

Because of course, now he’s back.

Pat raises one hand and waves without looking. “Hey, Pels. Come on in. Soon as I kick TJ’s ass, we’ll switch to four player mode.”

Pels blinks, because that’s new. She slips past Jackson, crouching down next to Pat. “More than two people can play?”

“You really don’t know anything about games, do you?” Jackson says, falling onto the bed behind them. “I thought Pat was exaggerating.”

“Wasn’t a thing in my house. I’m pretty sure as sins go, it’s worse than lying, but nowhere near as bad as being Talented,” Pels deadpans. “I know nothing. But….” She lets the word trail off, exhaling softly.

TJ glances over at her, and Pat takes advantage of the distraction to do something that sends one of the karts on screen spinning. TJ’s attention turns back to the game. “Oh, it’s on,” he says.

“He gets it,” Dad murmurs.

Yeah, Pels is pretty sure he does. She also assumes Pat and Jackson know what’s going on—maybe there will be a floor meeting about it, or maybe not. Sometimes it seems like the wilder something is, the more PHU just accepts it.

The game ends, and Pat nudges Pels with his elbow. She settles in on the floor next to him, while Jackson moves to the edge of the bed, his legs dangling where Pat can lean against him. TJ plugs in two more controllers and they get the game started.

Pels is going to lose, and that’s fine. They guys are loud, while she’s focused intently, leaning as she maneuvers, like she can somehow control her kart with her body. It allows her to let go and not think for the blissful minutes of the game.

As they ready for another round, Pels glances at Pat. She catalogs the heavy rings stretching his ear lobes, and the ink she can see along with other piercings. He’s everything she’s been protected from, and one of the nicest guys she’s met here. “Thanks,” she says quietly.

Pat flashes a quick grin. “Anything for a friend,” he says, rocking gently to knock into her shoulder.

There’s no more time to talk after that, as the game begins again amidst noise and chaos.

Yeah. This is just what Pels needed.

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[clementineesotsm]

THE KING: ETERNAL MONARCH EP 5, My Appreciation and How It Made Me Feel

This going to be a hell long writings because this have been my most anticipated episode.

King is in Korea again finally. To pay his debt to Nari and take away tae eul. I enjoy the aesthetic shot and camera movements. 1 thing that was interesting, Nari write down “She’s Gone” on the board to inform people that Maximus was not here anymore. But seeing KSJ looking at it, it kind of tells him that Tae Eul is gone too. I love the analogy.

Because she is now in Corea with Gon and pretty much took Lady Noh and Jo Yeong by surprise. We got an explanation of the space between 1 and 0. I love how they called it that. And also i remember during Marvel’s end game im looking so much stuff of quantum mechanic, just curious about the quantum realm that helps them to go through time and space. That is why im excited to see it in this series too. They are using Quantum Tunelling theory same as end game. This space in between world has a rule and its different in every movie, what similar to end game was time flow differently. In TKEM 1 minute here equal to 1 hour outside. There were no wind, no air and no light here. Gon tells us that he was exploring this place for days and using euler’s number to count, which led many people to make their own theories and i love to read it ! I love this fandom, you smart geek 💕 and what makes me love Gon even more, here he shows that he was not greedy to found out more about the place, Since at least in the meantime he only need to know how to back and forth between Korea and Corea. Usually people who love science will have this greed to explore more, but Gon seems to know his priority and will explore later when needed. I love realistic boy 💕 They got critiziced badly for the bad cinematography, and im glad they listen to it and make it better and darker later in the series. But for me, this pinkish is fine.

The next scene was hilarious, we got to see JTE trying to figure out what is going on and try to prove many things in her way. Nicely executed. And i might say, that JTE is the main character of this episode, because we will saw her character development here and damn great acting by KGE. Im a fan now. Also i will always praised Jo Yeong. He is a very good actor. JY realized that JTE is this woman that Gon has been looking for his entire life.

Just wanted to appreciate more of the backsound used in this particular scene, Fantasia from Another Dimension. All praised for whoever make it and know exactly where to used it in which scene. Because it added the value of the scene and the series. Also to Gon appereance. Here, especially when Gon says “Welcome to my palace” . I mean, wow.

Lady Noh pissed and being overprotective to Gon. But its understandable. Now its JTE turn to be a stranger with no identity. As she said “You reap what you sow” . I appreciate Lady Noh professionalism here, eventhough she is a close person to Gon, but Gon is still a King here. There still boundaries and she knows that line and never crossing it. I adore this line of her to JTE “I should trust you, You’re my King’s guest” and bow. 👏🏼👏🏼 also i love how she scolded Gon. And Gon actually obedient to her words. Im soft for them.

Gon’s is back to work and planning to make a meal for JTE, which startled the hell out of SA and JY. Btw, both JY and SA should date because they were cute af. We only got to see a little of both, i want more 🥺

Just to appreciate the parallel scene as what we saw in episode 1, where JTE saw money with Gon face and teased him about it being monopoly money and teased him whether he buys many land. Here we saw Gon teased her upon seeing her hands in a red stamp and asking “did you sign a contract or something? Did you buy a land?” I just loved it. I also like on how JTE is still pretty much relax around Gon even when she knows he is a King. She casually asking his phone left unlocked for her to search something later. I think Gon’s line here was funny “who would even try to look through a King’s phone? No passcode” 🤣 Their bickering also funny. Gon expecting JTE appreciate the food he is making but JTE teased him by saying it taste bad, and how Gon look at JTE while she eat, is love, i love them, somebody help me. What i also realized here is that Gon also really relax when he is with JTE, he can be himself around her. He let go his upright posture, for example, we can see from his sitting posture, he is leaning to the chair unbothered. But when Lady Noh bark into the room he is back to his stiff posture.

Appreciation for this line “Is it far to the right or to the left of my room?” Gon’s smirk and Lady Noh’s face 🤣

The conversation between JTE and Lady Noh’s was quite bitter. She answer JTE question about how people here knows her, she explain that King has a strange ID with your name and face but it looks fake because no one in this world have this identity as stated on the ID card. “But that nonexistent person, suddenly appeared here. Its shocking. Everything is just absurd, but one thing im sure about. An existence that cannot be explained will only bring chaos to the world, and it will only harm our King” Lady Noh’s told JTE not to be curious about this world and not try to stay, she says “By “this world”, i mean, including, the King” im amazed by this line and how this Lady say it. Bitter truth. She is just being protective to the King.

JTE seems to think about Lady Noh’s words so much and bothered by it. I think she kinda wants to go home because he asked Gon when he will show her ID card. This conversation between Gon and JTE also gave us a glimpse of what a bad shooter Gon was. And led to us confusion and for me personally this led to me doubting many things of Gon savior on 1994 🤡 This bedroom scene was intense though, those who said both of them dont have chemistry better do an eye check or maybe somethings wrong with your heart, because the tension here was high, i mean their line here was iconic af

JTE “내가 뭐 하나 물어불 테니까 ‘예’, ‘아니요’로만 대답해” (im going to ask you something, so just answer with yes or no)

Gon “물어봐” (ask me)

JTE “연애 한 번도 안 해 봤지?” (You’ve never dated before, right?)

Gon “깜짝이야, 아닌데? 해 봤는데” (you startled me, you wrong, i have)

JTE “언제 해 봤는지 맞혀 불까?” (Should i guess when?)

Gon “맞혀 봐” (guess)

JTE “지금” (now)

And the music stop before Gon come closer to JTE and KISS HER SO SOFT then the piano continues to play, IM DEAD!

I love how JTE startled and open her eyes to analized what is happening and kind of give me a sight of her being curious in this whole new experience even the kiss. I love her acting!

Gon “내가 방금 뭘 증명했는지도 맞혀 봐. 연애해 본 거? 아니면, 지금 연애하는 거?” (Try guessing what i just proved. The fact that i’ve dated before? Or that im dating right now?” 💕

I still very mad that i dont get this piano backsound in the original ost! Why!!!! This piano play is everything and added the tension of this scene.

I dont know what else happens last night but Gon came to JTE room and said “I told you to sleep well but i guess you didn’t” 🤓 he has a plan to bring JTE out by pretending to be his bodyguard for a day slash wants to show off to his girlfriend that he is cool at work 😎 Lady Noh’s is such a party pooper however she dont have any choice but to let this weird King do his plan 💕

NO PICTURE TOGETHER 🤣

To be continue..

[gxymlky]

Amiya in Bedivere’s interlude

I recently played his interlude again and again because it’s so sweet, this boy deserves the world. Also, in his interlude, he self-depreciate himself so I wanna insert myself that he isn’t like this.

(yeah, i tried but you get the idea) and the B-team is mentioned but not really the spotlight

Interlude began when Amiya was in her room busy with some paper works and was watching videos on her laptop when Bedivere entered greeting her, “Good morning, Amiya. What do you have planned today?” Amiya looked at him, kinda perplexed, “I was busy, but I might need a break” she replied, “then I shall accompany you, no matter your destination”

“Hmm. Maybe some place where I can breath a fresh air”

“Rayshifting? Perhaps training in the simulator?”

“I have done that with Rhion and Chiyo the other day, thank you Bedivere” Amiya acknowledged, her eyes still on the computer, listening to a video commentary of some memes, which she does while doing her paperwork whilst knowing she will add words from the video if she wasn’t paying extreme attention.

“Well, I am here on behalf of Miss Mash today---”

“Oh, it’s fine, I appreciate her looking after not only me but also everyone else.” she understood as she shifted a bit and faced him, “so..”

“I will try my very best to aid you then” Amiya smiled and muttered a thank you before shifting her position to stand up and stretch herself after hours of sitting down and crouching, facing the screen and the notes.

“Now that you mention it---” she forgot her medical check, Amiya remembered how her welfare is tied with her thaumaturgy, the more she draws from it, the more she feels sluggish or even collapse from a single blast from her staff she delivered, even Rhion mentioned she has to be careful or equip herself with a Mystic Code to not fall back.

Bedivere explains she was having her medical check and has to remain in the exam room all day.

“Medical checks are important, Amiya, you’re aware that Chaldea is isolated from the rest of the world,” he continued, “and is located in an extreme environment”

“I know, I know...” her words trailed as she let out a long sigh, arching her neck up.

“Our bodies and minds are under incredible pressure, we must always be aware of this, understand, Amiya”

“Yeah... you sound like my mother” she chuckled but he continued on despite her comment.

“and because you have exceptional talent, I don’t want you to crack under pressure especially if you have a frail body”.

“So please take care of yourself as the flames we are facing and the cold, uncaring environment surrounding Chaldea are quite different in nature and said to be exceptionally difficult.”

“That’s the challenge we are facing right now, Me, you, the staff here” she shrugged, “as someone who intended to be an intern now is tangled with these threads, I have slight mixed feelings” Amiya stated.

“And as such, frequent checkups are of critical importance here Amiya”

“I-is this the reason why you’re here to pick me up? I am going later. But okay, thanks”

She was thankful it was Bedivere who came to check up on her, she doesn’t have anything against when Mashu or Chiyo does, as long as it wasn’t Wilhelmina since she drags her out of her room when she doesn’t respond the third time, that happens so bad, even Bedivere saw it.

“Permit me to remind you once more: I am a substitute for Miss Mash today, as such, please ask me for anything, I am your attendant, your butler, I am your servant in every possible sense of the word”

“Ah, um, okay, by the way, where’s Chiyo?” Amiya interrupted as he shortly finishes.

“I believe she was with Lady Marie and D’Eon, they must be having a tea, would you like to join them?”

“Hmmm, maybe some other time, she might be replenishing herself today and deserves to take a breather.”

“I see, since you trained in the simulator the day before, maybe observing and monitoring the remnants from the Singularities would be appropriate as well.”

“Maybe, but I am off duty with that, besides, Wilhelmina and Rene are doing that as of right now”

“Hmm...”

“Battling to gain something is what will lead to further growth for you, Master”

“Huh...I don’t know much about that”

“Battles for the sake of the Grand Order”

“...”

“Or rather...” he continued on, eventually these battles will wear her, or anyone in the team down. Psyche, Soul, in modern times, Nerves.

“Heh, modern, it’s medical but whatever” she retorted

Bedivere paused for a bit

“There is something that crossed my mind, Amiya”

“What is it?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t dare mention something like this to other, but in your particular case...”

“I’m sure HE would be happy about it, without a doubt since he is that kind of knight.”

“Hmmm. He...” 

“I think you must be referring to Bird boy.. Tristan?”

“Yes, my comrade, the man who is the epitome of freedom. And also the comment, Bird boy...?”

“What of it?”

“When you say he is the epitome of freedom, the first thing that comes to my mind is birds, they fly freely...”

“You have good analogy, I’m impressed by that. Anyways, I occasionally would accompany him and believe it is a wonderful place to relax. But please, keep that to yourself.”

Relax huh, never heard that word in a million years but I am overreacting Amiya thought as she spaces a bit.

“The Rec room is what you’re referring to”

He laughs and asked her if it is where she think it is, Amiya nodded and shrugged, “Chiyo, Rhion and I hang out there, usually we pick meadow alps like the swiss alps where we sing and copy scenes from the Sound of Music”

“Ah I see, so you seem to know it as well, let’s head over there right away, I will leave a note for Sir Tristan and perhaps, Sir Rhion?”

“Rhion is likely asleep right now, so it’s just us”

“Alright, let’s go”

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The two arrived in the simulator, instead of a the Swiss alps she was so familiar with. It was completely different.

“The sea...”

“You’re less enthused than I expected, my apologies. I must reflect on my presentation”

Amiya shook her head, “n-no, no it’s fine. It’s alright. It’s good to take a breather somewhere else” her tone has a small bit of upset as if she was expecting something the long time only it didn’t leave up to her expectations.

“Ah, I’m glad you like it, but still it doesn’t make it any less better on my part. I will further reflect on my actions regardless.”

A simulator, a virtual creation of an environment of the outside world. They aren’t outside Chaldea and it would be a bit troubling if they went out since the endless winter is absolutely unforgiving Heroic Spirits or humans alike.

“The sea gives me a sense of peace. I hope it goes the same way for you, Master”

“Mm”

“Actually, I was initially skeptical about whether or not this would work. I accompanied Sir Tristan to watch him go fishing and listening to him ranting that was nothing but difficult to understand..”

“Haha, I see you take yourself as Tristan’s punching bag with his rants huh” Amiya mused.

“There was sincerely nothing to do except spending time just watching the sky and the sea. But surprisingly, doing so felt peaceful, or rather, calming to me”

“Ah, I see. So we are complete opposites but not really”

“Complete opposites?”

“Mhm, when you say the watching the sky and the sea is calming for you. I’d felt the same way except, I would watch the sky while lying down in the flowery meadow. Both is relaxing to us”

Bedivere chuckled and Amiya leaned closer to him, “maybe sometime, I’d bring you there someday where we’ll experience it together”.

The two looked to the sea until he breaks the silence.

“Amiya”

“Hm?”

“...Have I..overstepped my boundaries?” his tone. It was as if someone was confessing their crimes but at the same time, there was a tone of remorse and genuine solemnity.  “No, it’s fine. It’s nice to relax sometime and take a break away from all these..thank you, Bedivere”

“I should be the one thanking you, Master.”

“Please call me Amiya, I think I find the term Master a bit... uncomfortable”

“Alright, Amiya”

Amiya smiled and just stretched herself once again, trying to feel herself and the environment and slightly sides to his shoulder. 

“Would you like to try night fishing?”

“Night fishing?”

“Yes, did you know Amiya, Sir Tristan uses his Failnaught so skillfully to catch a many great fish..”

“Oh, but how do we get fishing gear then? Shouldn’t we entered the data before entering? I didn’t expect this to happen, I’m so sorry..”

“Ah, don’t apologize, Amiya. I requested Miss Da Vinci’s help on that front.” He then entered a few buttons on the multipurpose window whilst she waited.

“...Now I equip the extra item and we’re all set” he said. “Well, I’m sure there are other ways to do so but I don’t have much experience with the simulator”

“I think it’s enough, there are two of them and just teach me how to fish, if it’s alright with you, it’s been a while since I’ve fished and I completely forgot the basics”

After a few exchange with eachother, Bedivere guided the milk-haired girl, “the bait is already on the hook, so please cast it to the sea with all your strength, Amiya.”

“Eeyyy!” Amiya stood up, arching her back to further cast it away and hearing a small sound on the water surface. “Ah, I think it landed”

“Such bold and brazen movement, amazing!”

“Ahaha, it’s not that special Bedi” she appealed and looked at the sea again to detect any movement from the bait.

“But it’s really wonderful, did you any by chance tried fishing before?”

“As a child yeah, but it ended up so badly that I accidentally threw my teddy bear instead of the fishing line.” Recalling that said memory really takes her back where she was in a small lake with a family gathering, at such a young age of seven, she accidentally threw her bear and her having a total meltdown, thankfully it was recovered but the dress the bear was wearing was ruined. Looking back at it, it was so embarrassing. 

“Ah, is that why you take all your energy in casting the fishing line since you’re not holding anything besides that right?”

“You read me like a book, Bedivere” she then looked back at the sea, smelling the salty, calming atmosphere whilst holding the fishing pole. Bedivere said he will look out at the front so there’ll be nothing to worry about.

Amiya laid back again and let out a sigh before putting her hand on her nape, rubbing it to release the tension.

“...This is something that I’ve never said before...”

“..?”

“Nor did Tristan say this...but at times, I find myself thinking this: 

Tristan was torn between the two Iseults. And his fate led him to lose his life by the water. Or rather, his soul”

“Ah..” she remembered, she knew the story, it was how Tristan was poisoned and his last request was to see the Iseult he loved, but the other Iseult who was his wife lied to him about the sails being black instead of white.

Poor thing.. 

“Perhaps that is why he cannot be apart from the water. Even now, he could be waiting for that ship with the shining, pale white sail...” Amiya didn’t say anything but was about to open her mouth to say something when she suddenly jolted

“ha!”

“Something’s biting! It’s splashing. It must be a very big one..! It;s like Sir Kay swimming amongst the fishes!” the last part almost made Amiya chuckle but she is reeling back with her might, almost panicking.

“Almost there! The tug tho!”

“It could be a red snapper, mackerel, or even a tuna!”

“It could be all three!” 

“Alright, let’s reel it in, Amiya! And just like humans take pictures of the fish to record their greatest catches, we both can capture its data and show it to Miss Mash and Sir Tristan!”

“Add Chiyo and Rhion to the list!” she beamed

“It;s sure to make them smile!”

“Now reeeeeeel!” Amiya reeled with all her might with the help of Bedivere, her back was against his chest, close too close! She isn’t into those, yet and it’s making her cheeks burn

“Haa, it’s so big! The fish just leaped out of the sea” never in her life had she seen a fish so heavy and big.

Amiya walked closer to examine it until Bedivere held her back

“Wait..” the creature landed with a heavy crash, apparently it is a weird looking....fish?

“The fish we caught is...actually, not a fish.....”

The creature roared an eerily screech as it further lunged into the two. “Ahhh! T-that’s an enemy!”

“Oh, I’m so embarrassed...I must have made some kind of mistake when I am setting the system up, Doing something one is accustomed to can cause such trouble.. I pulled an all-nighter studying the manual...but I am no good at learning new things...”

“Stop the lamentation first Bedivere, for now, we need to get rid of this thing!” Amiya wasn’t able to bring her staff with her but she could put up small barriers to keep the enemy in place.

“Yes, Amiya, your commands! I am prepared to make amends for my misconduct, Or, I am prepared to accept whatever punishment you deemed fitting, but first we have an enemy to fight!”

His demeanor changed as he prepares to fight the enemy lunging forward

“I swear by my Airgetlam that I will dispose of this monster immediately!”

“Let’s go, Bedivere!”

SWITCH ON - AIRGETLAM

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DEAD END - AIRGETLAM

Bedivere slashed off the enemy to two before dying. Returning to normal, Amiya let out a deep breath, that was hell of a fight but it’s done. 

“...Please allow me to apologize once more. Even though it was only in the simulator, my most important job is to keep you safe, you being in danger clearly meant I failed my duty as a Knight. My efforts were fruitless once again, I apologize Amiya”

“It is alright, Bedivere, as long as you’re fine, it doesn’t matter. I am not mad to begin with” she earnestly acknowledge and patted his head.

He blushed as she patted his head, “Ah, Thank you so much, I am  undeserving of such kindness.

Amiya and Bedivere looked at the now dead creature before them. 

“Now...it would be a waste to leave this, so let’s eat it”

“?!” did she process this correctly? Eldritch things are not her cup of tea so she was clearly caught off guard but then she lacks self-awareness, any point he would coerce her to eat this and it scared her.

“I have memories from my previous life. For instance, from Round Table analects, King Arthur, number eight: Food is all the same. Nutrition is nutrition, even monster meat!”

“Haa.....”

“Now, Amiya...repeat!”

“Ahhh” Amiya walked back, clearly freaked out. If anything, she’d rather starve than eat those kinds of things, she had seen people on videos eating live octopus, geoducks, raw meat, hell even a roasted alligator. Roasted. Alligator, one girl from China even had her face scarred by an octopus in her attempt to eat it alive. But luckily, this one is dead so the chance of it scarring their faces is zero.

Amiya backed away even more

“T-those videos, haaa” flashbacks of people grossly eating really stood out as she backs out further.

“What are you talking about, Amiya? Why are you backing away? Amiya? Amiya?”

(just imagine her face during the whole event after the battle)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- After running for quite sometime (not even long, just 10 minutes) and him after her.

“...Once again, my apologies. But now I’ve learned more about your food preferences”

“..sea grapes are something I actually like” she revealed. They aren’t as bad, but at least she could live with it than those Eldritch-type things, he is into.

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind, in order for you to enjoy my dishes more in the future, I will continue to hone my skills” Amiya just nodded, tears and sweat are so visible and her expression seems like she’s simultaneously crying and laughing

“By the way...” she looked back as she wiped out her sweat with her handkerchief, “where are we?”

“The seaside we visited is Sir Tristan’s place of relaxation. Now we are at mine..” His expression softened as he walked past her. “It’s quite similar to a certain place in Britain”

“....A place of peace...well, admittedly this tranquil place is where I allow my mind to race. It is a place that helps me renew my resolve and reinvigorate my soul. So it may be a stretch to call this place a place of peace.”

“Oh. So like mine but in a different environment huh”

“Yes, as you mentioned, your place of relaxation along with miss Chiyo and Sir Rhion is the swiss alps.”

Huh, so he remembered, the smallest detail, something that you genuinely appreciated so much, everytime someone knew the teeny bit, their heart leaps with joy.

“Bedivere?”

“...” Amiya looked at him with concern, perhaps, her actions upset him earlier, “I’ll make it up to you what happened earlier. I’m sorry, I wasn’t educated in those types. I’ll promise to learn about them for sure.”

“No. It’s not about that, I was thinking of the past.”

“Huh?”

“Our Britain was a nation under constant threat of attack, never peaceful or stable...” He then explained that many fell victim to the chaos and he wasn’t able to save them. Then he told her about the Giant of Mont Saint-Michel. “A fearsome giant was wreaking havoc on the Mont Saint-Michel of Brittany”

Amiya carefully listened to him, her expression filled with soft curiosity like a child who wanted to see what her grandmother was knitting.  “...and kidnapped Princess Helena, the niece of the King of Brittany”. Helena. First thing that popped in her head when she heard the name was Caster Helena Blavatsky, though she didn’t want to sound disrespectful and just swallowed the thought. The atmosphere isn’t even a time for cracking jokes or a quip.

“Our King Arthur took Sir Kay and myself to hunt the giant down and rescue her..” His eyes lowered a bit but soon looked at her, “and on that quest...to be frank...I was of no help to the two of them. King Arthur and Sir Kay defeated the giant in a gruesome battle and brought some peace to Brittany.” Amiya’s expression slightly lit up, “and bam! It’s a finally happy ending right! At least you and your comrades brought peace” she chattered. But even her cheer isn’t helping.

“On the other hand, I...I could not save the princess.”

“Ah, so she...”

“Yes, by the time we arrived she has already been gone. I was too late, powerless as I am. All too little, too late. Princess Helena, known for her grace had her young and promising life plucked away, and we found only her pitiful corpse”

“Oh,” Amiya couldn’t believe what happened, she couldn’t imagine what guilt and pain he must’ve felt when he saw the once and beautiful, lovely princess, once filled with life and possibly cheeriness now snuffed out of her. It is something that reopened a painful memory in her past.

“I couldn’t save the people dear to me. First, Princess Helena. Then, the Battle of Camlann, my king...Arthur. I failed not once, but twice”

“...Bedivere”

“...This place..it reminds me of where Princess Helena drew her last breath. Every time I stand here, it reminds me...that I am a powerless knight...I am but a man who lost the two people he swore to protect”. Amiya grabbed both of his cheeks slapping it together causing him to snap out.

“That’s wrong Bedivere!” she asserted. 

“Amiya?”

“Just because you can’t save people dear to you doesn’t make you a complete failure! Do you think Helena would be happy if you continue to depreciate yourself further? Do you think your King or your comrades would like it if you degrade yourself further?! Not only I find it absolutely repetitive and annoying but I couldn’t stand seeing you this way as your Master.” Amiya then lets go, “I’m sorry, I kinda went off”

She looked away, “you see when you mentioned Princess Helena and about her, there’s also a memory that I repressed for so long, I don’t even share it with close people like Mashu and Chiyo”.

Amiya then placed her index finger on her lips. “Please keep this a secret between us, Sir Bedivere”

“You have my word, Master..”

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It started back in Junior year of high school, when a girl her age was introduced in her class, her name is Rika, but she was bound to a wheelchair and the desk beside her was empty, since she was beside it, the teacher assigned Amiya to aid the new student to the assigned desk. She didn’t think anything of it until she saw her one day on the garden alone, drawing. Without a doubt, Amiya approached Rika and asked what she was doing, drawing flowers, Rika stated that the flower’s beauty lasts temporarily and if she were to pluck it, then it will hasten its beauty and dies much faster, the least she can do is draw and keep an original image even if it is not as accurate. Amiya was interested and seeing how talented Rika was, she was curious what technique she used and even taught her how to mix colors, soon their friendship blossomed, Amiya who was a recluse became more open and willing to help, she never had any real friends even if she has, she does not consider them close. The two shared same interest with one another when it comes to history and their love for retro things. Their bond grew stronger as time passes, it came to a point where Rika needed to be hospitalized due to an illness slowly eating her life away, she was due in operation and wanted to spend her time with Amiya before her operation. In reality, Rika had no friends and her grandparents homeschooled her before going out to a real one, Rika’s first and only friend. Touched by this, Amiya encourages her that she will make it regardless and gave her a charm to remember her by once she enters the operating room. Amiya went home in hopes the surgery would be a success. Only for her to learn from her mother days later that Rika had died during the operation, but prior to that, she left a small gift and a letter to Amiya indicating how much she appreciated her and the fact she was very patient whenever Rika would ask her questions and never get mad or irritated nor does she feel pity just because she was bound and with that, she is also able to make friends through her while Amiya opens up to people at the same time.

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If it wasn’t for Rika, I would’ve not made friends along the way...

“I just had to share that, after your telling about Princess Helena, I learned that we both share the same parallels,” Amiya said as she clasped both her hands on her chest. “It’s because I don’t want you to feel the burden alone...her last wish to me was I hope I’ll be able to live my without fear, and every time I recoil or hesitate, I think of her resiliency and how she is able to withstand any obstacles in her way...”

I was scared, I didn’t know where I was going nor what I am going to do until I met her... and when she was cruelly taken away from her grandparents, from me, from my newly-made friends.

I know she will not always be around to help me...

The least I can learn from her was to move forward despite everything...

“Bedivere, you are not powerless, you stayed loyal to your King until the very end. Even undergoing those trials just to return Excalibur to your King and you call yourself powerless? Those were the most daring and valiant task you did!”

He blushed, but she still continue

“In the end, we will face adversaries together, that is a way to keep moving forward. So please, for your King’s sake...don’t belittle yourself anymore..”

This warmth, her hands touched his cheeks, cupping them together. “Thank you Bedi...”

“Master, no, Amiya...those words...” So assuring, so gentle yet firm, it was as if she was sharing her pain with him which was the case. He wonders why she would give those words to someone like him, someone who doesn’t even deserved to be numbered among the Knights of the Round Table but now...

Bedivere knelt down in front of Amiya, “w-wait----”

“Master, even if I am a powerless man who does not deserve to be included among the Knights of the Round Table and the words you have expressed to me, and yet, because of that----nay, I shall offer you this vow, knowing that my manifestation here with you was truly a miracle...

I shall protect you, Amiya, who fights these brutal battles to defend humanity’s future.

No matter how powerful the enemies coming to our way, no, no matter how cruel the fate we face may be....

Your life...your soul...your heart...every single part of you.

I shall protect you till the very end..”

Amiya dove down in his kneeling height and wrapped her arms around him, her eyes are swelling now, tears are falling, tears of warmth, assurance, happiness or whatever it is, someone willing to protect her and, the feeling is mutual too, she also wanted to protect her brother, Chiyo, Mashu or anyone dear to her

“Thank you, sir Bedivere” she sobbed through gross crying. She had never cried this far aside from her friend’s death who turned her to be a caring, open individual she is today.

“....Yes, Amiya

I swear I will live up to your expectations..”

and with that, Amiya kissed him on the cheek causing him to blush deeply.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#8yrsago David Byrne's How Music Works

Former Talking Heads frontman and all-round happy mutant David Byrne has written several good books, but his latest, How Music Works, is unquestionably the best of the very good bunch, possibly the book he was born to write. I could made good case for calling this How Art Works or even How Everything Works.

Though there is plenty of autobiographical material How Music Works that will delight avid fans (like me) -- inside dope on the creative, commercial and personal pressures that led to each of Byrne's projects -- this isn't merely the story of how Byrne made it, or what he does to turn out such great and varied art. Rather, this is an insightful, thorough, and convincing account of the way that creativity, culture, biology and economics interact to prefigure, constrain and uplift art. It's a compelling story about the way that art comes out of technology, and as such, it's widely applicable beyond music.

Byrne lived through an important transition in the music industry: having gotten his start in the analog recording world, he skilfully managed a transition to an artist in the digital era (though not always a digital artist). As such, he has real gut-feel for the things that technology gives to artists and the things that technology takes away. He's like the kids who got their Apple ][+s in 1979, and keenly remember the time before computers were available to kids at all, the time when they were the exclusive domain of obsessive geeks, and the point at which they became widely exciting, and finally, ubiquitous -- a breadth of experience that offers visceral perspective.

There were so many times in this book when I felt like Byrne's observations extended beyond music and dance and into other forms of digital creativity. For example, when Byrne recounted his first experiments with cellular automata exercise for dance choreography, from his collaboration with Noemie Lafrance:

1. Improvise moving to the music and come up with an eight-count phrase (in dance, a phrase is a short series of moves that can be repeated).

2. When you find a phrase you like, loop (repeat) it.

3. When you see someone else with a stronger phrase, copy it.

4. When everyone is doing the same phrase, the exercise is over.

It was like watching evolution on fast-forward, or an emergent lifeform coming into being. At first the room was chaos, writhing bodies everywhere. At first the room was chaos, writhing bodies everywhere. Then one could see that folks had chosen their phrases, and almost immediately one could see a pocket of dancers who had all adopted the same phrase. The copying had already begun, albeit in just one area. This pocket of copying began to expand, to go viral, while yet another one now emerged on the other side of the room. One clump grew faster than the other, and within four minutes the whole room was filled with dancers moving in perfect unison. Unbelievable! It only took four minutes for this evolutionary process to kick in, and for the "strongest" (unfortunate word, maybe) to dominate.

I remembered the first time I programmed an evolutionary algorithm and watched its complexity emerging from simple rules, and the catch in my throat as I realized that I was watching something like life being built up from simple, inert rules.

The book is shot through with historical examples and arguments about the nature of music, from Plato up to contemporary neuroscience, and here, too, many of the discussions are microcosms for contemporary technical/philosophical debates. There's a passage about how music is felt and experienced that contains the phrase, "music isn't merely absorbed above the neck," which is spookily similar to the debates about replicating human consciousness in computers, and the idea that our identity doesn't reside exclusively above the brainstem.

The same is true of Byrne's account of how music has not "progressed" from a "primitive" state -- rather, it adapted itself to different technological realities. Big cathedrals demand music that accommodates a lot of reverb; village campfire music has completely different needs. Reading this, I was excited by the parallels to discussions of whether we live in an era of technological "progress" or merely technological "change" -- is there a pinnacle we're climbing, or simply a bunch of stuff followed by a bunch of other stuff? Our overwhelming narrative of progress feels like hubris to me, at least a lot of the time. Some things are "better" (more energy efficient, more space-efficient, faster, more effective), but there are plenty of things that are held up as "better" that, to me, are simply different. Often very good, but in no way a higher rung on some notional ladder toward perfection.

When Byrne's history comes to the rise of popular recorded music, he describes a familiar dilemma: recording artists were asked to produce music that could work when performed live and when listened to in the listener's private playback environment -- not so different from the problems faced by games developers today who struggle to make games that will work on a wide variety of screens. In a later section, he describes the solution that was arrived at in the 1970s, a solution that reminds me a lot of the current world of content management systems like WordPress and Blogger, which attempt to separate "meaning" from "form" for text, storing them separately and combining them with little code-libraries called "decorators":

[Deconstruct and isolate] sums up the philosophy of a lot of music recording back in the late seventies. The goal was to get as pristine a sound as possible... Studios were often padded with sound-absorbent materials so that there was almost no reverberation. The sonic character of the space was sucked out, because it wasn't considered to be part of the music. Without this ambiance, it was explained, the sound would be more malleable after the recording had been made. Dead, characterless sound was held up as the ideal, and often still is. In this philosophy, the naturally occurring echo and reverb that normally added a little warmth to performances would be removed and then added back in when the recording was being mixed...

Recording a performance with a band and singer all playing together at the same time in the same room was by this time becoming a rarity. An incredible array of options opened up as a result, but some organic interplay between the musicians disappeared, and the sound of music changed. Some musicians who played well in live situations couldn't adapt to the fashion for each player to be isolated. They couldn't hear their bandmates and, as a result, often didn't play very well.

Changing the technology used in art changes the art, for good and ill. Blog-writing has a lot going for it -- spontaneity, velocity, vernacular informality, but often lacks the reflective distance that longer-form works bring. Byrne has similar observations about music and software:

What you hear [in contemporary music] is the shift in music structure that computer-aided composition has encouraged. Though software is promoted as being an unbiased toold that helps us do anything we want, all software has inherent biases that make working one way easier than another. With the Microsoft presentation software PowerPoint, for example, you have to simplify your presentations so much that the subtle nuances in the subject being discussed often get edited out. These nuances are not forbidden, they're not blocked, but including them tends to make for a less successful presentation. Likewise, that which is easy to bullet-point and simply visualize works better. That doesn't mean it actually is better; it means working is certain ways is simply easier than working in others...

An obvious example is quantizing. Since the mid-nineties, most popular music recorded on computers has had tempos and rhythms that have been quantized. That means that the tempo never varies, not even a little bit, the the rhythmic parts tend toward metronomic perfection. In the past, the tempo of recordings would always vary slightly, imperceptibly speeding up or maybe slowing down a little, or a drum fill might hesitate in order to signal the beginning of a new section. You'd feel a slight push and pull, a tug and then a release, as ensembles of whatever type responded to one another and lurched, ever so slightly, ahead of and behind an imaginary metronomic beat. No more. Now almost all pop recordings are played to a strict tempo, which makes these compositions fit more easily into the confines of editing and recording software. An eight-bar section recorded on a "grid" of this type is exactly twice as long as a four-bar section, and every eight-bar section is always exactly the same length. This makes for a nice visual array on the computer screen, and facilitates easy editing, arranging, and repairing as well. Music has come to accommodate software, and I have to admit a lot has been gained as a result.

Byrne is well aware of the parallels between music technology and other kinds of technology. No history of the recording business would be complete without a note about the format wars fought between Edison and his competitors like RCA, who made incompatible, anti-competitive playback formats. Byrne explicitly links this to modern format-wars, citing MS Office, Kindles, iPads and Pro Tools. (His final word on the format wars rings true for other media as well: "Throughout the history of recorded music, we have tended to value convenience over quality every time. Edison cylinders didn't really sound as good as live performers, but you could carry them around and play them whenever you wanted.")

Likewise, debates over technological change (pooh-poohing the "triviality" of social media or the ephemeral character of blogs) are played out in Byrne's history of music panics, which start in ancient Greece, and play out in situations like the disco wars, which prefigured the modern fight over sampling:

The most threatening thing to rockers in the era of disco was that the music was gay, black and "manufactured" on machines, made out of bits of other peoples' recordings.

Like mixtapes. I'd argue that other than race and sex, [the fact that disco was "manufactured" on machines, made out of bits of other peoples' recordings] was the most threatening aspect. To rock purists, this new music messed with the idea of authorship. If music was now accepted as a kind of property, then this hodgepodge version that disregarded ownership and seemed to belong to and originate with so many people (and machines) called into question a whole social and economic framework.

But as Byrne reminds us, new technology can liberate new art forms. Digital formats and distribution have given us music that is only a few bars long, and compositions that are intended to play for 1,000 years. The MP3 shows us that 3.5 minutes isn't an "ideal" length for a song (merely the ideal length for a song that's meant to be sold on a 45RPM single), just as YouTube showed us that there are plenty of video stories that want to be two minutes long, rather than shoehorned into 22 minute sitcoms, 48 minute dramas, or 90 minute feature films.

And Byrne's own journey has led him to be skeptical of the all-rights-reserved model, from rules over photography and video in his shows:

The thing we were supposed to be fighting against was actually something we should be encouraging. They were getting the word out, and it wasn't costing me anything. I began to announce at the beginning of the shows that photography was welcome, but I suggested to please only post shots and videos where we look good.

To a very good account of the power relationships reflected in ascribing authorship (and ownership, and copyright) to melody, but not to rhythms and grooves and textures, though these are just as important to the music's aesthetic effect.

Byrne doesn't focus exclusively on recording, distribution and playback technology. He is also a keen theorist of the musical implications of architecture, and presents a case-study of the legendary CBGB's and its layout, showing how these led to its center in the 1970s New York music scene that gave us the Ramones, Talking Heads, Television, and many other varied acts. Here, Byrne channels Jane Jacobs in a section that is nothing short of brilliant in its analysis of how small changes (sometimes on the scale of inches) make all the difference to the kind of art that takes place in a building.

There's a long section on the mechanics of the recording business as it stands today, with some speculation about where its headed, and included in this is a fabulous and weird section on some of Byrne's own creative process. Here he describes how he collaborated with Brian Eno on Everything That Happens Will Happen Today:

The unwritten rule in remote collaborations is, for me, "Leave the other person's stuff alone as much as you possibly can." You work with what you're given, and don't try to imagine it as something other than what it is. Accepting that half the creative decision-making has already been done has the effect of bypassing a lot of endless branching -- not to mention waffling and worrying.

And here's a mind-bending look into his lyrics-writing method:

...I begin by improvising a melody over the music. I do this by singing nonsense syllables, but with weirdly inappropriate passion, given that I'm not saying anything. Once I have a wordless melody and a vocal arrangement my my collaborators (if there are any) and I like, I'll begin to transcribe that gibberish as if it were real words.

I'll listen carefully to the meaningless vowels and consonants on the recording, and I'll try to understand what that guy (me), emoting so forcefully by inscrutably, is actually saying. It's like a forensic exercise. I'll follow the sound of the nonsense syllables as closely as possible. If a melodic phrase of gibberish ends on a high ooh sound, then I'll transcribe that, and in selecting the actual words, I'll try to try to choose one that ends in that syllable, or as close to it as I can get. So the transcription process often ends up with a page of real words, still fairly random, that sounds just like the gibberish.

I do that because the difference between an ooh and an aah, and a "b" and a "th" sound is, I assume, integral to the emotion that the story wants to express. I want to stay true to that unconscious, inarticulate intention. Admittedly, that content has no narrative, or might make no literal sense yet, but it's in there -- I can hear it. I can feel it. My job at this stage is to find words that acknowledge and adhere to the sonic and emotional qualities rather than to ignore and possibly destroy them.

Part of what makes words work in a song is how they sound to the ear and feel on the tongue. If they feel right physiologically, if the tongue of the singer and the mirror neurons of the listener resonate with the delicious appropriateness of the words coming out, then that will inevitably trump literal sense, although literal sense doesn't hurt.

Naturally, this leads into a great discussion of the neuroscience of music itself -- why our brains like certain sounds and rhythms.

How Music Works gave me insight into parts of my life as diverse as my email style to how I write fiction to how I parent my daughter (it was a relief to read Byrne's discussion of how parenting changed him as an artist). I've been a David Byrne fan since I was 13 and I got a copy of Stop Making Sense. He's never disappointed me, but with How Music Works, Byrne has blown through my expectations, producing a book that I'll be thinking of and referring to for years to come.

Byrne's touring the book now, and as his tour intersects with my own book tours, I'll be interviewing him live on stage in Toronto on September 19th, at the Harbourfront International Festival of Authors.

How Music Works

https://boingboing.net/2012/09/12/david-byrnes-how-music-w.html

[youngboy-oldmind]

ALBUM REVIEW: Late Registration


“So they asked me…Why you call it Late Registration Ye?/Cause we taking these motherf***ers back to school!”

Hip-hop trail blazer and Chicago legend Mr. Kanye West follows up his status-establishing album The College Dropout with a sophomore project that proves he’s far from a one hit wonder, relishing in his own league of musical production, lyricism, and soul touching artistry.

Overall Thoughts

I mentioned in an earlier post that Late Registration is my favorite album by Kanye, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that I can endlessly rave about it. In 70 minutes, Late Registration(LR) utilizes the perfect number of skits, Grade-A featured verses from Jay-Z, Nas, Lupe, Common, Paul Wall, Cam’Ron, and Consequence, and a stellar instrumentation that combines old-school soul samples and flawless string orchestration. It also doesn’t hurt that film score composer and record producer Jon Brion helped produce some of the best tracks (Gold Digger, Roses, We Major).

Kanye elevated his pen game on this 2005 classic record. Before he made albums, he was already a solid writer and could definitely put together a verse. On LR, he exceeded to a new level, talking about himself, success, survival, while matching the prophetic vibe of “Jesus Walks” on tracks like “Diamonds From Sierra Leone”, “Roses”, and “Crack Music”. On top of these commentary tracks, he produced the tear-jerking track “Hey Mama”, my favorite dedication-to-mother songs in hip hop period.

I should also acknowledge the skits in LR. Through 4 clips, a story unfolds in a fraternity: Broke Phi Broke. In the four skits, they chant their various financial difficulties and struggles with a sense of pride. And in the final skit, we see Kanye get kicked out of the fraternity for being caught having new shoes in his closet. This is not only hilarious, but a clever commentary on his progress/success, and separation from the common plight and status of black men. Also, the topic of the skits excellently transition to the next song. Skit #1 talks about not having gas money, and the next song is “Drive Slow”; Skit #2 just repeats “broke, broke, broke, broke”, and the next two songs are “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” and “We Major”, both thematically about money and success. Skit #3 ends with a joke about not affording Christmas trees and the mother pretending to be one, and the next song is “Hey Mama”. And Skit #4 ends with Kanye being removed from the frat, and the next track is “Gone”. Expert skit placing on his part.

LR is a near perfect album; The “Empire Strikes Back” of hip hop sequels. This project has a song for any mood and definitely makes my top 10 favorite albums.

Album Breakdown

LR can be broken down into five section, each with their own distinct topics and tones, and separated by the four skits. These sections are:

Section 1: The Hits (Wake Up Mr. West) - Heard ‘Em Say, Touch The Sky, Gold Digger Section 2: Introspection (Skit #1) - Drive Slow, My Way Home, Crack Music, Roses, Bring Me Down, Addiction Section 3: Claim to Success (Skit #2) - Diamonds From Sierra Leone (Remix), We Major Section 4: Family Business (Skit #3) - Hey Mama, Celebration Section 5: Late Departure (Skit #4) - Gone, Diamonds From Sierra Leone (Bonus), Late

Section 1- The Hits

This section kicks off the album with bang after bang after bang. West and Adam Levine team up on the opening track “Heard Em Say” to lay down two themes of the album: Everything happens for a reason and nothing in life is guaranteed. He says several times “Nothing’s ever promised tomorrow today” accompanied by Levine’s harmonies that echo simultaneous sadness and hope. West also talks about some of the plagues African Americans, including low wages, AIDS, police harassment, admiration of drug dealers, and the pursuit of money and success. While talking about these inherently depressing topics, there’s a twang of hope and faith; there’s an energy of overcoming those obstacles and maintaining the belief that things will turn out alright. 

In a 180 degree flip, the next track “Touch The Sky” completely contrasts the mellow mood of “Heard ‘Em Say”. With exhilarating trumpets sampled from Curtis Mayfield, West and Lupe bring an energy of celebrating success; reminiscing on the where they were before they got to the height they are now. A year before his debut classic Food and Liquor, Lupe spits one of the best verses on the album; matching Kanye’s energy while outshining him with his lyricism.

“Gold Digger”, possibly his most famous song, needs no introduction. This iconic track sampling Ray Charles’ I Got a Woman” is known by deep cut hip hop fans and mainstream fans alike. Jamie Foxx’s vocals on the chorus yelling “I Gotta Leave!” and Kanye’s verses about this girl who only wants him for his money makes an entertaining story but also indicates his new found status. He went from songs about not having money, to songs about dealing with a woman who only want him for his money. Talk about a bragging.

Section 2- Introspection

After two bop tracks we get “Drive Slow”, a track more mellow and laid back than the intro. Through a multitude of car metaphors, Kanye and Paul Wall talk about taking things slow, not to rush things, whether its spending money or sleeping with girls. Generally a middle of the road song for me. Nothing mind blowing but definitely easy to listen to.

In “My Way Home” we get a short, 16-line verse from Chicago all-time great Common, who talks about the struggles of the hood being home. This contrasts the hopeful tone on “Heard Em Say”, introducing a tone of relief he’s out that situation and he’s not going back. Fun fact: this is actually Common’s song that he decided not to add to his album Go!, which is why it just sounds like Common’s song instead of a Kanye song featuring Common. The slowed down samples vocals create a groove that almost makes you forget this is a sad song.

“Crack Music”, one of my favorites, paints an analogy to crack addiction and hip hop, hence the title. The Game brings a unique aggressiveness to the hook, which pairs well with the choir on chorus. However, the final leg of the song introduces an unsettledness: shakiness in the vocals, music freezes, and Malik Yusef delivers a poem that still gives me goosebumps to this day. The voice of legendary Charlie Wilson harmonizes perfectly with the chorus as well.

Next up we hear “Roses”, another instrumental masterpiece with Patti Labelle’s vocals and a Bill Wither’s sample on the chorus. West talks about the hospitalization of his Grandmother and the tightness/unity of his family. I love the quietness that plays during the verses and then the kick of the drums in the chorus. That excellently helps emphasize the intimacy of the situation.

Unfortunately, this leads into “Bring Me Down”, which is my least favorite track. Brandy’s vocals and Jon Brion’s instrumental are perfect, but it seems wasted on West’s verse. It’s disappointing to hear the epic strings and orchestration accompanied by Kanye saying weak lines like “There’ll always be haters, that’s the way it is/Hater n*****s marry hater b**ches and have hater kids” and “Yo girl don’t like me, how long has she been gay/Spanish girls say ‘Yo, no hablo ingles’”. The track honestly would’ve been better as an interlude with just Bandy’s singing, similar to “My Way Home” with just Common. But, the addition of West’s lyrics actually makes the song weaker. 

Luckily, the project picks up with “Addiction”. However, I’ll admit I’m not a fan of lyrically. This isn’t a track where West is trying to demonstrate any lyrical expertise, so I’m not expecting a load of double entendres and layered meanings and mind-blowing messages. However, even for a surface level track, hearing him fake-stutter became a little annoying. But I like the topic of the song; him being addicted to all three “money, girls, and weed”. Although the topic and lyricism isn’t unique, it was at least entertaining.

Section 3- Claim to Success

Following the second skit, we get “Diamonds From Sierra Leone (Remix)” with hall of fame rapper Jay-Z. This track is interesting because Kanye and Jay don’t discuss the same topic. Kanye talks about his conflict with buying diamonds, knowing they’re Blood Diamonds and his purchase of them could result in the killing of Africans, of whom he’s a descendant. On the flip side, Jay talks about his label and his success. Although Kanye’s verse has more substance, I think Jay’s verse was better. There’s one particular set of lines I’ve always loved

“This ain’t no tall order, this is nothing to me/ Difficult takes a day, impossible takes a week/I could do this in my sleep/ I sold kilos of coke, I’m guessing I can sell CDs/ I’m not a businessman, I’m a business, man /Let me handle my business, damn”

Then we get the top tier track “We Major”, which is the album’s best collaboration up to this point. Jon Brion shines again with the instrumental, creating this epic atmosphere of accomplishments. Really Doe and Tony Williams illuminate the chorus with the vocals, while Kanye comes through with poeticism he hadn’t reached since “Heard ‘Em Say”. I want to add a quote of my favorite part of his verse, but it would be half the verse. And to top that, Nas comes through with an even STRONGER verse, a contender for the best verse on the album, competing with Lupe on “Touch the Sky” and Common on “My Way Home”. And to top THAT off, the last few minutes are basically Jon Brion, Warryn Campbell, and Tony Williams showing off their expertise while Kanye shouts them out, along with The Roc and his label, G.O.O.D. Music. His vocals during this part are echoed so it feels like the listener is at a concert. You could have headphones on in a quiet room and feel like you’re soaring. Easily a top 10 song in West’s career.

Section 4- Family Business

After the height of Diamonds From Sierra Leone and We Major, the record dies down and returns to mellowness, continuing with the heart-string-pulling “Hey Mama”. Here, we get West’s lyricism reminiscent of the College Dropout style. This definitely was a poem or song he’d written prior to this project. As I said earlier, one of my favorite mother-dedicating songs in all of hip hop.

The next song, “Celebration”, is one of my favorites on the album. The lyrics aren’t impressive; West goofily slant rhymes “wild” and “endowed” at one point. He just discusses drinking, girls, and the accidental birth of his kid through a busted condom. However, I believe it’s the placement of the song on the record that makes me love it so much. After hearing the epic-ness of songs like “Touch The Sky”, “Diamonds From Sierra Leone”, and “We Major”, this song feels like an after party. An intimate gathering that allows West and the listener to reflect a little, over another brilliant composition by Jon Brion. And while the verses are nothing to look twice at, the chorus is serene. West’s harmonization with himself improves his voice. And at barely past 3 minutes, the song is short enough where the sub-par lyrics aren’t too distracting.

Section 5- Late Departure

When I first began writing back in middle school, I used to rap to the instrumental for “Gone”. This song is foundational to my hip hop appreciation and extremely underrated. To start, the Otis Redding sample is perfect. Jon Brion again combines his expertise with West to create a beat that evolves as it progresses, increasing in complexity and instrumentation. The verses improve with song as well, Kanye delivering the first and last, while Cam’ron and Consequence deliver excellent verses in the middle. Between Consequence’s verse and Kanye’s final verse, we hear the beat breakdown and evolve even more, building up to a final verse that leaves the listener speechless. West reflects about a multitude topics: being so innovative that his labels won’t approve his ideas, wanting to leave public light, his come up from being broke just wanting to upgrade from his “cheap ass sofa”, leaving his hometown that had nothing to offer him, inspiring new artists, never selling out, and ultimately showing he’s no longer on-call for anybody to use him. He’s established enough to choose his company and produce as he pleases. This is a perfect culmination of the themes throughout the album, and is the perfect closer.

Now, I say that with hesitation because technically there are two more songs on the record: The original “Diamonds From Sierra Leone” without Jay-Z, and “Late”. “Diamonds From Sierra Leone” is an excellent track. Instead of talking about Blood Diamonds or guilt, West talks about his writing process, feeling snubbed from awards, and ultimately himself. Definitely some of his strongest pen game on the album.

“Late” contrasts the previous song with a very calm feeling, possessing a lullaby quality. Here, he drives home the point that he’s going to be late with things he does, tying together the album title and the context of the album’s release, which was released months late. However, the lateness definitely worth the wait. It’s a toss-up between Gone and Late for which I prefer as the better closer. Gone is an epic reflection on the album’s theme and messages, and displays some of the best lyricism on the album. However, Late is a surreal, warm ending that feels like more of a winding-down end. If I HAD to choose, I’d say “Gone”. Because while both are great, I can’t imagine the project without “Gone”, whereas I could see it without “Late”.

Top 3 Songs:

1) Gone 2) We Major 3) Hey Mama

Overall Grade: A

[cate-geo]

Camp Pining Gays

(This has nothing to do with camp, or Steven Universe, or Camp Pining Hearts...but it does have something to do with gays who are pining so GOOD ENOUGH)

(Romantic Moxiety College AU with background Logince, and Platonic Prinxiety, Royality, Analogical, and Logicality.)

(Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of food, some suggestive teasing. Tell me if there’s any more.)

(Tags: @ab-artist, @vigilantprotector)

Words: 3,634 (oof, I don’t usually write that much)

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

“Mr. Storm!” Virgil snapped back into reality. Damn it.

“Yeah, Prof.”

“Honestly if you’re going to listen to music during my lecture you could at least pretend to hide it. Instead of wearing obvious headphones.”

Virgil rolled his eyes “Why bother with the stress of trying not to get caught? It’s just easier to tell the truth.”

“Please, just try to pay attention.”

Virgil nodded and completely zoned out the professor the second they weren’t giving him any attention. He fucking knew he shouldn’t have gone to class today. No, wait. He had to turn in the essay. Fuck, why couldn’t he just do that electronically?

The rest of the class was so grueling. He wanted so badly to put his headphones back on, but the idea of being called out again made him want to vomit. God he just wanted to go back to bed, but leaving early would just bring attention to him. At least it was his last class of the day.

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The second the Professor started saying “Alright, I think that’s all for today.” Virgil was out the door in a flash. All earlier hopes of studying in the library were crushed by his need to hide under his blankets. He tried to convince himself that he would study in his room, but he was most likely just gonna pass out.

He walked into his apartment to find his roommate. It wasn’t that he hated Roman, but he really wanted to be alone right now. Luckily Roman seemed to notice.

“Hey bud. Tough day?”

“Yep.” Virgil plopped his bag down and kicked off his shoes before climbing into bed.

“Gonna take a nap?”

“Yep.”

“Don’t worry. I was just about to head out. Gotta rehearse with Patton.”

Virgil immediately shot up “What?” He cleared his throat “Who?” Was he fantasizing again? 

“Patton. He’s in my drama class this semester. Sweet kid.”

“He works at the library, right?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Roman stopped, and Virgil dreaded the gleam growing in his eyes “You know him?”

“I’ve seen him around.”

Roman leaned in close, trying to read Virgil, who was trying to be as unreadable as possible. “Do you like him?” “I don’t just get a crush on every cute guy I see like you do.”

“It doesn’t have to be every cute guy. Just one cute guy.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and hid his head under the covers “I’m napping.”

“Alright alright. I’ll do you a favor and try to get his sexual orientation.”

“Whatever.” Virgil sighed in relief when the door finally opened and closed.

Then he shot up.

“Wait no! Don’t fucking do that!” Roman was not subtle at all. God, Virgil was so glad he wasn’t actually gonna be present for that conversation. Although his imagination wasn’t much better. He groaned and shut his eyes tight. Trying to let sleep overtake him.

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Virgil didn’t really remember falling asleep, but he must have since he was waking up now and it was dark outside. He looked around and noticed Roman wasn’t back yet. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He should probably make dinner.

He pondered whether or not he should make Roman some food too. Maybe he could poison it for the stunt Roman was trying to pull. Before he could decide though, he heard the door open.

“Heeeeey Virgil~”

“Hey Roman. How was rehea-”

Roman had the hugest shit-eating grin on his face, and coming in behind him was Patton.

Yep. Virgil was definitely gonna poison Roman’s food.

Virgil didn’t know if he should yell at Roman or try to make a good impression. Although, it wasn’t as if he was capable of speech at the moment.

“Hi. Sorry to intrude. Roman said he just needed to grab something real quick. Then we’ll head out.”

“Yeah. We were gonna get something to eat. Wanna join us?” Roman was still grinning.

God Virgil wished he had the idea to make dinner 60 seconds earlier. Then he would have an excuse. “I uh...don’t want to interrupt any rehearsing.”

“Oh, it would be good to have a test audience” Roman wrapped an arm around Virgil’s shoulder, his eyes telling him that he wasn’t getting out of this one, so he should just tag along.

“Yeah. It could really help to have a fresh set of eyes. You should come.”

Patton was asking Virgil to dinner. Ok so...it wasn’t exactly how he imagined it. But he was too lovestruck to stop himself from saying yes.

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Despite the fear in Virgil’s chest, the dinner wasn’t so bad. The skit they were doing was cute. And it definitely helped with payback giving Roman so much constructive criticism.

Although Roman retaliated quickly. “Oh wow. Sorry. Cute guy alert. Gotta get his number. Be back in a jiff.”

Virgil tried to say ‘Don’t you fucking dare leave me’ with his eyes, but Roman was already gone.

“Wow. I could never ask for a random guy’s number.”

“Yeah. That’s Roman. Extra in absolutely everything he does.” Virgil stared at his drink “Uh...so you work at the library, right?”

“Uh-huh. I’ve seen you around.”

Virgil felt his heart beat faster. Patton noticed him. “Yeah well, it’s a good place to study.” God, why was this so awkward?

“Mhm.” Patton must be finding it awkward too “Roman mentioned you two have Disney movie nights on Saturdays. That must be so much fun.”

“Uh...yeah. When he doesn’t have a date. Which is actually pretty often despite the amount of guys he hits on. Do you want to join us this weekend?” shitshitshit. Did that just come out of his mouth? Shit.

“Wait really?”

“Sorry. That sounds creepy. You hardly know me-us...and I’m inviting you to our apartment at night and-”

“No that sounds nice actually. I just don’t want to intrude on you two.”

“It’s no intrusion. It’s mostly just Roman singing along. It’d be nice to mix things up a bit.” Mix things up a bit? Mixing things up a bit made Virgil panic. So did inviting a cute boy to his place. What the fuck did Roman do to him?

Speak of the devil, Roman sat back down with them, slapping down a piece of paper with numbers scrawled on it “Boom. That’s how you do it.”

Virgil looked down at his lap “Uh...is it cool if Patton joins us for Disney night?” He wasn’t looking at him, but he could feel Roman’s eyes get bigger

“Of course. The more the merrier. We can make it a pajama party.”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Patton had the biggest smile.

Virgil nodded, ready to die.

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Virgil wasn’t going to get super dressed up. It was a pajama party after all, not like he could wear a suit or makeup. Well, any more makeup than his usual eye shadow. But....he didn’t want to smell bad or anything.

“Virge that is the fifth time you’ve brushed your teeth. Are you planning on kissing him?”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, well I’m your wingman, whether you like it or not.”

“Well you suck at it. You never did find out his orientation.”

“Oh. He’s pan.”

“What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He has a pan pin on his backpack, I thought you saw it, with how much you stare at him.”

“I don’t stare at him!”

“Yeah, ok”

“I just zone out. It’s a thousand-yard stare. It’s not about who I’m looking at. It just happens.”

“So you can fantasize about him.”

“I am going to stab you with your own sword.”

“So this is a really bad time to tell you I have a date with the guy from the restaurant tonight and I’ll be joining you two later, huh?”

Virgil just noticed how gussied up Roman was. “What? You’re gonna leave me alone with him in the apartment.”

“Hey, you’re the one who invited him here.”

“Roman, please. I beg of you. It was so awkward when you left us.”

“You’ll be watching movies. You don’t have to make small talk. And it couldn’t have been that awkward. You literally asked him on a date.”

Virgil groaned but couldn’t say anything else because there was a knock on the door. Roman placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Don’t stress out too much. Patton is a sweet little puffball. He’ll understand if you’re a bit anxious.”

Virgil sighed and went into his room as Roman answered the door. Part of him wanted to lock himself in there forever, but he couldn’t just leave Patton all alone. So he grabbed his blanket and some pillows before walking into the living room and freezing.

Footie pajamas.

Cat footie pajamas.

Fuck he’s adorable.

It kinda made Virgil feel dull just wearing a plain black t-shirt, plain black sweatpants, and his usual hoodie. His hoodie wasn’t exactly dull, but he always wore it so the shock factor was gone.

“Hey, Virgil! Roman just told me he’s gotta head out. It’s a bit of a shame. But we’ll have fun together.”

“Uh yeah. Romeo here can’t turn off his charm for one night.”

“It’s a gift and a curse. I’ll be back late, so have fun you two. As much fun as you want.” Roman winked at Virgil and immediately got a pillow to the face.

“Ugh you’re just as bad as your brother.”

Roman clutched his chest in mock hurt before wiggling his fingers goodbye and walking out the door.

Virgil picked up the pillow he tossed and dropped everything in front of the tv. “Go ahead and choose the first movie. You want popcorn?”

“Yes please.”

Virgil stared at the microwave as the popcorn popped. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Sure he was so close to vomiting, but...it could actually be nice.

He poured the popcorn into the biggest bowl he could find and walked back to find Patton had picked Winnie the Pooh. “Heh. Cute.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” He placed the bowl in-between them and hit play.

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It was actually a really nice time. Although Virgil put a ton of attention into not accidentally grazing Patton’s fingers in the popcorn bowl. He wanted to. But he knew if he did he would immediately die, and that might dampen the mood a bit. So Virgil was honestly relieved when the popcorn was gone.

Except his relief was short-lived, because Patton had moved the bowl out of the way and now there was nothing in-between them and they were under the same blanket and worrying about finger grazes was a lot less stressful than worrying about cuddling up to each other.

Besides that, it was nice.

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After a few movies, Virgil noticed Patton’s head bobbing and his eyes drooping. He really was the cutest thing in the world, wasn’t he?

He was trying not to stare, but he probably should have because the next thing he knew, Patton had fallen asleep. On. His. LAP! And Virgil was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating.

What was the normal person response? He didn’t want to wake Patton by moving him. So he tried to play it cool and slowly ran his fingers through his hair. It was so soft. God, why was everything about him so soft?

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A few hours later he heard the door open.

“Awwwww.”

“Shut it.” Virgil hissed.

Patton rubbed his eyes “Oh hey Roman. You’re back. How was your date?”

“Magical~ How was your…” Virgil glared at him “Night.”

“Pretty chill. I guess I kinda passed out. Sorry for falling asleep on you Virgil.”

“Nah it’s fine.”

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The three of them were able to watch a movie and get into about a third of another one before Roman and Patton fell asleep.

Virgil felt his eyes getting heavy so he turned off the tv and curled up in the blanket before drifting off.

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Virgil opened his eyes to a face full of hair. He didn’t remember cuddling up to Patton, but he must have.

He smiled and pulled Patton closer, nuzzling his nose into the back of his neck, hearing giggles coming from Patton.

“Morning Virgil.”

“Mmmm. Morning Pat.” He started pressing soft kisses on Patton’s shoulder blade, relishing in how he could see his blush reach the tips of his ears.

And then he woke up for real.

Virgil looked around. Patton wasn’t anywhere near. He wasn’t even on the ground anymore. This made Virgill sit up with a start. Where was he? Was he hurt? Did he get kidnapped? Did he-

The smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen and the sound of two voices chatting calmed him down. He found his phone and saw it was just after 10. He wasn’t usually up this early on the weekends. Unless he stayed up this late.

Virgil stretched and got up, heading towards the kitchen.

“Oh! Good morning Virgil. I’m almost done making breakfast.”

“Isn’t he great Virge? Real husband material if you ask me.” Roman grinned knowing he deserved the punch in the arm.

“You two should take a seat. It’ll be done any second now.”

Roman obliged, but Virgil stayed. Staring at Patton cooking, he imagined wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his chin on his shoulder. 

Patton turned around “Oh kiddo. Did you need something?”

“I can...uh...help.”

“Aw. Thank you. Here. This is yours and this is Roman’s.” Patton handed him two plates before turning back to the stove.

Virgil nodded and brought out the plates to a grinning Roman “What?”

“Just a nice save is all”

“Maybe be snarky after I’m not holding your food.”

“Ok ok ok.” Roman grabbed his plate “Still a nice save.”

Virgil growled and sat down.

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A few months had passed. Patton and Roman had kept pairing up for scenes, and Roman kept insisting to Virgil it was because they had become friends and had nothing at all to do with the fact that he was the ultimate wingman.

Roman’s date started hanging around more and more. Virgil learned his name was Logan, and he had started to really like his presence.

Virgil liked Roman and he was in love with Patton, but...they were really easily excitable and rambunctious. And when Virgil got overloaded, it was nice to find Logan in a different room just quietly reading a book. It was calming. To hang out with someone without needing to do anything. Allowed to listen to his headphones and just...be.

Logan was also a giant nerd, which comes in real handy with finals just around the corner.

Virgil also couldn’t help but notice how happy he made Roman. He had noticed that Roman’s flirty eyes had turned to more loving with stars in them every time he looked at Logan. It was really nice to see his friend in love and happy. He also finally had some retaliation to every single time Roman teased him about his crush on Patton. Although it didn’t hit as hard because Roman wasn’t keeping any of his feelings a secret.

Speaking of which, Virgil was still too nervous to ask Patton out. Still would fantasize about him. And still felt this weird feeling in his stomach whenever they hung out. Besides all that, the two of them had actually become close friends. Patton would always greet him with a hug, and Virgil wasn’t always the hugging type, but Patton was soft and warm and felt safe and always smells like vanilla, so he was the one exception.

Many nights the two of them had stayed up late talking. Virgil started to trust him, and tell him about all of his anxieties. Except for the ones that involved his crush of course. And the night that Patton told him that he usually bottles up his feelings and tries so hard to be happy even when he isn’t, Virgil almost felt honored with how much Patton trusted him back. It was also really nice to pull Patton into his lap and let him cry in his chest.Virgil hated himself for liking this when Pattion was so upset. But they were so close...it was nice. Despite the topic.

Then one night, Patton told Virgil that he had a crush on somebody and Virgil felt his heart crack into two pieces.

He knew he should have made a move sooner.

“That’s great Pat.”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you had any advice on how to ask them out.”

“Uh...Roman’s usually better at the whole love advice thing. You should ask him.”

“I did, but I’m pretty sure this person wouldn’t want the big romantic extravaganza Roman suggested. I also don’t have the money to rent a hot air balloon.” Vigil snorted “I wanna keep it simple. Like how would you want to be asked out?”

There was no way Patton could have known, but that hurt just as much as finding out about his crush. Having to tell Patton all the fantasies Virgil has had about him, without being able to make them come true. “Uh...I guess I just want to be asked to hang out. Well, not just hang out. Knowing my anxieties, I wouldn’t know if it was a romantic or a platonic thing. I would want you...or well...one...to actually say the words “as a romantic date”. No room for confusion, you know?”

“Got it. Just straight to the point. Thanks, Virgil!”

“Yeah, no problem.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------There was no way Virgil could sleep that night. He looked at Patton laying on his chest and despite how much it stung that he liked somebody else, this wasn’t so bad. Patton was his best friend. He was a great best friend. Crushes come and go. Maybe one day he would stop fantasizing about kissing him and he would be perfectly happy with the relationship they had.

Maybe.

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“Hey Virge, you haven’t talked all day. Something bugging you?” Roman leaned against Virgil and got shoved off.

“I’m fine.”

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“You already know.”

“What do I already know?”

“About Patton’s…” Nope, he was not about to cry “About Patton’s crush”

Roman gasped “He told you?” Why did he sound so excited?

“Yeah. He told me about his crush and wanted more chill advice than what you gave him and I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Roman blinked “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. It’s fine. Patton’s a good friend. I’ll get over him. Eventually.”

Roman sighed deeply and muttered something under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing. Nothing. Don’t worry. I promise I’ll fix this.”

“No. Don’t interfere. He has his own feelings and emotions and is his own person. He likes someone else. It’s not his fault I’m too much of a coward to ask him out.”

“Virge-”

“It’s fine. I have class.”

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Virgil came back from class to see Patton in his apartment talking with Roman. This wasn’t all that surprising, but it still stung. And the fact Patton didn’t hug him was worrisome.

“Ah. You’re home.” Roman crossed his arms “Go on”

“What are you talking about?”

“Heh. I think he means me kiddo…”

“Huh”

“Well...I didn’t really want to put you on the spot with Roman’s suggestion, and when I asked Logan for advice, he told me I should get some information from the source. So I wanted to gather information and then ask you when the time was right. But your advice was literally to be direct, and this was completely not that. But I panicked and didn’t know how you felt. Roman was just telling me how I should have just confessed then and there and that I was making your anxiety worse…and I’m really sorry.”

“What?”

“Oh...uh...my crush is...you Virgil.”

Dreaming. He was dreaming. Daydreaming? Fantasizing? In a coma?

“Ah. Fucking finally!” Roman shouted “Do you know how stressful it’s been keeping both of your secrets for this long?”

Holy shit. This was reality.

“You like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Months of just watching you two together but not together.” Roman collapsed on the couch “It was probably more emotionally draining for me than for the two of you combined.”

“I like you too.”

“Eeee” Patton pounced onto Virgil and hugged him tightly.

Virgil staggered a bit but was able to keep them both up, holding Patton tight.

“Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss”

“Roman, can you shut the fuck up for 5 seconds of your life?”

“Come on you know you want to.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and landed them on Patton “Uh...is it...o...k?”

“Mhm. Very much so.”

Virgil ran his fingers lightly down Patton’s cheek, getting the softest smile in return before he started leaning in. Was this really about to happen?

Holy shit. This time it really did happen.

“Aw. You guys are adorable.”

Virgil flipped Roman off “I’m not adorable”

“Yeah ok, buddy” Roman suddenly gasped making Virgil jump “We should have a double date!”

Patton squealed “YES!” He dragged Virgil over to the couch and he and Roman started prattling on about where they would go.

Usually, Virgil would leave when the two got this excited, but he was kind of excited too. In his own chill and calmer way. Besides, he had a boyfriend now. And it was really nice to finally wrap an arm around his shoulder and kiss him on the cheek while he was talking instead of just fantasizing about it.

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Later that night, Patton was sleeping on Virgil’s chest, and Virgil was too excited to sleep. He leaned down and kissed the top of Patton’s head and heard a giggle.

“You aren’t sleeping.”

“I can’t. Too happy.”

Virgil hid his blush, despite it being dark.

“Yeah...me too.”