#aside from a funny string of coincidences i guess

[yuesya]

Shiki kinda reminds me of acheron from honkai star rail, did you draw any inspiration from her, or just a coincidence

... My friend, zenith of stars was written and posted before Honkai Star Rail was even released. xD

[otterskin]

Inverted Mobius, Mr. Tesseract and The Avatar of Truth

The mystery of the weird collar has deepened, thanks to @nebulousfishgills​ - by which I mean they totally solved it.

To those just joining me, I noticed this in my previous breakdown of the Loki trailer here.

Mr. Mobius, played by Owen Wilson, has an ‘inverted suit’. His collar is an indentation in his suit, rather than going on top of it.

So, first, a scene from Endgame that I seriously did think of when we learned there was a character called ‘Mobius M. Mobius’ in Loki (played by Owen Wilson). And yet I didn’t put this together. Thanks again to nebulousfish for making me realize that these things might not be coincidences.

When Mr. Stark is inventing time travel, he asks his AI to create a depiction of a Mobius Strip, inverted.

Which gets him this:

Anyway, what is a Mobius Strip, and who is Mobius M. Mobius? (Not to be confused with Morbius the Living Vampire, though wouldn’t it be funny if he was mistaken for Mobius M. if this show gets big first?)

I am not a quantum theorist or comic book aficionado by trade, so let’s do a Wikipedia-Fu on it.

In mathematics, a Möbius strip, band, or loop (US: /ˈmoʊbiəs, ˈmeɪ-/ MOH-bee-əs, MAY-, UK: /ˈmɜːbiəs/;[1]German: [ˈmøːbi̯ʊs]), also spelled Mobius or Moebius, is a surface with only one side (when embedded in three-dimensional Euclidean space) and only one boundary curve. The Möbius strip is the simplest non-orientable surface.

An example of a Möbius strip can be created by taking a strip of paper and giving one end a half-twist, then joining the ends to form a loop; its boundary is a simple closed curve which can be traced by a single unknotted string. Any topological space homeomorphic to this example is also called a Möbius strip, allowing for a very wide variety of geometric realizations as surfaces with a definite size and shape. For example, any rectangle can be glued left-edge to right-edge with a reversal of orientation. Some, but not all, of these can be smoothly modeled as surfaces in Euclidean space. A closely related, but not homeomorphic, surface is the complete open Möbius band, a boundaryless surface in which the width of the strip is extended infinitely to become a Euclidean line.A half-twist clockwise gives an embedding of the Möbius strip which cannot be moved or stretched to give the half-twist counterclockwise; thus, a Möbius strip embedded in Euclidean space is a chiral object with right- or left-handedness. The Möbius strip can also be embedded by twisting the strip any odd number of times, or by knotting and twisting the strip before joining its ends.

A Möbius strip does not self-intersect but its projection in 2 dimensions does.

Uh....right. Well, that clears everything up, doesn’t it?

Let’s crib off someone else’s work. Thanks to Thomas Wong on Medium, I was able to understand this a little better.

A Möbius strip is just a strip of paper, turned and taped together. It it only has one side, so an ant walking along the strip eventually returns to where he started. If we metaphorically interpret the ant, not as returning to a point in space, but a point in time, then it alludes to time travel.

...

As previously discussed, after a measurement, the quantum mixture (half born and half never born) becomes a definite state (born or never born). Finding the “spectral decomposition” is to find all the possible energies (eigenvalues) and states. Using these, one can determine how a quantum object evolves with time.

Combining this with the metaphoric interpretation of the Möbius strip, it could be that Stark found how to make quantum objects evolve such that they revisit a point in time, hence time travel.

Okay, that’s a little easier to understand. So how does this relate to the character Mobius M. Mobius, aside from him being named after the strip and the (apparently antiquated) ideas about time travel?

Well, he was based on Marvel Comics Legend Mark Gruenwald, a guy known for his passion for the lore of the comics, which he knew in innate detail. He even wrote the Official Handbooks and whatnot. Likewise, Mr. Mobius is a stickler for detail and one of the few members of the TVA even allowed a face - although it is off the rack, as he’s one an infinite number of clones (god I love the TVA so much already, it’s heaven for a Douglas Addams fan like me).

Despite being a clone, he rose through the ranks and is nearly the top guy, serving only underneath Mr. Alternity (and I am not familiar with these comics so feel free to correct me). Mr. Alternity has almost no comics history, but is based on editor Tom Brevoort.

There are several other misters, all of them near-identical to ‘Moby’. Mr. Orobourous, Mr. Paradox, Mr. Tesseract (!) and Mr. Oburos. They are also minor characters, but let’s look at all these names.

Clearly they are named after quantum theories of some-sort or another.

Mr. Mobius: Mobius Strip Theory - the idea that, essentially, is about the shape of time itself and the theory of traveling along that shape.

Mr. Alternity : Alternative universes

Mr. Ouroboros: A divine figure representing the beginning and the end of time in an endless cycle of death and rebirth.

Mr. Oburos - I’m not sure, but I think this is a variant of Ouroboros. 

Mr. Paradox - Temporal paradox, causal loops - ex. The Grandfather Paradox

Mr. Tesseract - An object that exists in 4 dimensions. Time is often called the fourth dimension.

Obviously that last one is interesting, considering how the Tesseract will be the start of our adventure. The Cosmic Cube was renamed for the MCU, and in the comics has no relation to this minor character.

But what if it now does?

What if Tony has caused a change in the very appearance of Mr. Mobius when he inverted the Mobius Strip - literally inverting his clothing because he changed the shape of the Mobius - does that mean that these seemingly human-looking misters are in fact some sort of avatars for aspects of time itself? And if Mr. Tesseract is representative of how space and time intersect in the fourth dimension, wouldn’t a rogue god twisting space and time with the device that shares his name cause him some affect? Perhaps why the TVA noticed something was amiss to begin with.

This would be a departure from the comics, but the characters have almost no history there. They are ripe for new ideas.

Or, then again, since Loki will be working for the TVA - perhaps he’s the one who becomes ‘Mr. Tesseract’?

But continuing with that ‘Avatar of Aspects’ idea, let’s get away from this sausagefest for a second and visit my next newest favourite character -

I’m guessing she’s one of the Justices of the TVA. What gives it away? The imperious look, the giant oaken table, or the fact that I’m suddenly self-conscious when she looks at me? It’s the last one, of course. She’s a natural judge.

Of the named TVA judges, there’s :

Justice Goodwill, Justice Hope, Justice Liberty, Justice Love, Justice Might, Justice Mills, Justice Peace and Justice Truth.

Could they also possibly be avatars of their respective aspects?

If I had to guess, I’d say this is Justice Truth, as pairing up Loki with an avatar of Truth seems like it’d be a smashing good time, similar to how he was paired with Verity Willis in the comics. She might even be a composite character with Verity.

Verity’s power is detecting and seeing through all lies and illusions. I think this powerset will be given to Justice Truth, except instead of deriving it from a magic ring that she swallowed, she’d simply be the actual ‘Embodiment of Truth’ - and let’s get real here, when I said ‘Avatars of Aspects’, I was using that clunky phrase because the more obvious one - God of - is already ‘taken’. So Justice Truth may well be the ‘God of Truth’, as it were.

I think she’ll end up in something of a buddy-comedy with Loki, giving him someone to bounce off against who literally cuts through his carefully crafted veneer.

I’m reminded of a great quote from Taika Waititi when he was talking about what he wanted to do with Loki in Ragnarok:

“(He’s) someone who tries so hard to embody this idea of the tortured artist, this tortured, gothy orphan...It’s too tiring trying to be like that,” he says. “And, most humans, we get over ourselves, we get to that point where we’re like, ‘man, being a tortured artist is actually, like, a lot of work. Maybe I should just be real and present, and just be me, and I don’t have to be a tortured artist to be interesting, I can just be a f*cking weird New Zealander and that’s enough.”

...I think Taika is a living Loki, tbh, ha ha. No wonder he gets it.

Waititi, Yost, Pearson and Kyle did great work to cut through Loki’s illusions, both with dialogue and the visual allegory of his projections being dispelled by handy thrown objects, culminating in the very sweet ‘I’m here,’ scene at the end of the film. Loki seems to be much more open and expressive at the end of that film, and it seems like a weight has lifted off his shoulders.

But while this new Loki (Loki 2.0? Loki’s Show’s Loki? Loki II? Lokii? Lokii.) is shown a clip show of Ragnarok (one I previously theorized will be deliberately incomplete), that’s quite different from actually experiencing it, and he’ll be as performative as he was in Avengers and Thor 2. Instead of processing that ‘lack of presence’ as he did in Ragnarok, which came about as a result of Thor finally seeing through Loki’s illusions (guess he doesn’t fall for it anymore) as a result of their long history together, I suspect the band-aid will be torn off much more harshly by a total stranger who nonetheless simply sees through him.

Loki in general has a bad relationship with the truth (see the famous Vault Confrontation scene), and literally putting him on trial before the Truth Herself would certainly be enough to get him to switch from this phony expression:

To this one:

That’s not much of a facade there.

It’s not the same character arc as Ragnarok, but it does get us to a similar place, albeit in a darker and less healing way for Loki. I mean Lokii.

Anyhow. That’s what I got out of this thing.

[aileysmirnov]

◇◆Ailey Villains Gallery: Scarecrow◇◆

Scarecrow's face claim: Adrien Brody

Secret vs Scarecrow! How did they met?

Ailey (Secret) and Scarecrow met 'thanks' to Batman:

One night in Gotham, Scarecrow infiltrated the Iceberg Lounge with the intention to Kill some of Penguin's Henchmen.

With a more "upgraded" (and letal) version of his fear gas.

Just as a way to send a message to Oswald who had stolen some of his gas and now was selling it for a very high price on the dark market.

To prevent Batman from intervening, Scarecrow convinced Riddler and Dr Pig to create a "distraction" (if murdering almost 11 people between the two and then make an "spectacle" about it, can be called like that) for the Bat.

And unfortunately when the "Caped Crusader" realized it was a trap (thanks to one of Riddler's "funny" riddles) he was already too far from the building.

Too far from stopping Scarecrow.

He analyzed all of his options pretty fast: he couldn't send Damian, he was with him, Dick was in Blüdhaven, He already send Tim after Riddler and Steph after Pig, Cass and Barbara where in another state with the Birds of prey, Duke and Kate where teaming up to solve a crime involving a new rising homicidal cult and Jason…he wasn't in good terms with Jason…again…and he losed his track at least 2 weeks ago.

And so…he reluctantly took the phone and dialed the number of the one person he could think of.

Ailey was doing the usual: shouting angrily and throwing a tantrum towards her employees (like the good little tyrant she is) for a last minute cancellation of 4 of the stellar models for the upcoming Winter collection of SVELLYO. When all of a sudden she received a call from the one and only: Bruce fucking Wayne.

—B! What a perfect timing! Is not bothersome at all!—she remarked the words sarcastically annoyed a tone that sounded like the venomous hissing of a snake.

—Listen Ailey, I don't have time for thi-

She cut him off

—What a coincidence! Neither do I, B's man! Byee~

—Ailey…—He didn't shout at her but his more menacing (than usually) tone, make her feel like he did; it was a voice tone that Bruce normally just used when he was with Joker and when he used it. Oh boy, You just knew the man ain't taking any shit.

—Listen to me. And listen. C A R E F U L L Y. Scarecrow is in the Iceberg Lounge it's 2 minutes away from you by flying. I need you to go after him and prevent whatever he's up to against Cobblepot.—He said a little more ""nicer"" (if it's even possible) this time, but still with a hint of frustration in his voice.

—yeah…well…I also need this little favor, B—Bruce was about to fucking lose it in that moment, there where lives in danger and this CHILD was just thinking of herself!! But before he could lash out at her with a "I'm dissapointed" speech; Damian took the phone.

—He said he'll do it, you have my word. Now…Go! —Robin said without thinking twice

—Thank you, my zelenyy*! I'm on my way! —and with an Angry Bruce Lashing out at every single thing on earth on the background, Ailey hanged up, wrote a quick note to his secretary, asking him to give all of her employees a rise (including him, of course) and sprinted out to SVELLYO's roof top; without a word to the perplexed staff.

Once she stood there.She could feel the cold night breeze hitting her face and without any doubt she jumped abruptly from one of the highest points in the city.

Her eyes opened at the middle of his falling, adrenaline and renewed energy cursing trough her veins, her blonde hair replaced with a glowing rose gold, a metalic blue growing in her gaze and her outfit conveniently transformed on an all black bodysuit with slight hints of gold on the bottom of her sleeves.

His whole body defying gravity, flying through the night sky with the same grace and glory of a swan and leaving a subtle trace of light glowing pink as she passed by.

She arrived at the Iceberg Lounge back entrance at least 5 seconds earlier from what Batman had predicted.

Penguin's henchmen where all gathered in what appeared to be a small cellar on the very back of the casino, they were complaining about an out of the blue"meeting".

Secret (Ailey) assumed it was Scarecrow's way to get them all in the same place and avoid any unnecessary complications.

With extreme caution she stood and watched near the skylight, trying to fade away her own slightly glowing nature with the moonlight.

Her eyes searched quickly inside the room, ans she soon spotted atleast 6 gas tanks oddly put in some of the poorly lighted corners of the cellar.

But no sign of the maniac

Or so she though until the abrupt pain in her neck and the obscure presence behind her sooner than later make her realize; she wasn't alone.

She could feel the infernal pain from the toxin filling his lungs and cutting her breath and her vision becoming a little bit dizzy.

—You should know better than spying on people, dear…It might not end up being what you expected—his voice was deep and unforgiving, a condescending tone and the weight of countless sleepless nights leaked through every word.

She tried to speak but only felt her throat closing.

—Now, now, dear…all will end up soon. —His tall and lanky figure covered by worn out clothes to match his own psychotic aesthetic made him look intimidating. And without any glimpse of empathy he proceeded to toss her body aside with a kick like if she was a filthy dead rat, and continue to watch expectantly to the ignorant henchmen above.

He was waiting, waiting for one of them to foolishly reveal where his beloved toxin was and after a couple of minutes one of them casually mentioned a secret basement where the most important items waited patiently for whoever was able to afford his almost ridiculously expensive price.

Crane smiled wickedly to himself…he had just what he wanted…almost.

He activated the slightly hidden tanks of fear gas and watched in admiration as some of the henchmen faces started to change into a horrified expression.

—Head's up, asshole!—He didn't even had time to process the situation properly, when Secret's hands where at both sides of his head, the tip of her fingers illuminated and emanating Rose gold strings of pure energy attaching themselves to Crane's mind.

And at that exact moment he remembered: the pain, the panic, the fear.

The very first time he tested his toxin, was on himself: he was laying in to that dirty old shack for what felt like an eternity; he screamed and begged and yet the hallucinations didn't leave him, his mind was racing with the most horrible thought it could possibly even consider, everything so real and yet so distant. He felt hopeless.

And the delicate strings clinging tight around his mind. Lord, what a bittersweet nostalgia! He felt the same, the same way as the first time, he could hear the screams, the voices, the endless discontent. But couldn't find anything around him…just…hollow and for some strange reason…that scared the shit out of him.

Ironically it had been years since the last time Crane felt genuine fear.

When Crane woke up, he was already in that horrible place: a worn out cell from Arkham

But strangely he didn't feel any kind of anger or frustration. No…he felt…elated in the best way possible almost like if he had reborn!

And so…he stood there; staring blankly at the small window with an almost devilish smile across his face.

Waiting for the next encounter

◆◇◆◇

Ailey felt so proud of herself, she had successfully managed to knock out Scarecrow, control the gas leak and save Penguin's henchmen! All alone! And even took the liberty to recover all of Crane's toxin samples Penguin had!

She couldn't wait to see Bruce's face, Oh that man owed her BIG TIME!

When Bruce and Damian finally arrived at the Batcave, he was welcomed by her.

She looked like a 10 year-old who approved one of his test and was proudly showing off the paper to his parents.

Wich made Bruce smile…a little (even if he doesn't admit to it)

—See? You can trust me, B!—she said handing him the samples.

—So you send him to Arkham? Hmm…honestly I didn't though you'll made it…but good job…I guess…?—Damian admitted, while taking off his mask.

—Well, I'm glad I'm not THAT disappointing, sir! —Her tone expressing the sarcasm and slight frustration and offence in every word. Which Damian only replayed with a faint little smile.

—…Good Job, Ailey…—Bruce spoke for the first time since they arrived

—…and thank you for your help…—He completed with a slightly more """friendly""" tone (which just means less stiffness in his voice but still maintaining his authoritarian tone)

—yeah…well…don't thank me yet…we had a deal!—She said while playfully floating around him and touching the ears of his Bat-suit; Bruce could only do as much as to touching the bridge of his nose trying to contain his very obvious nuisance.

—…What do want? —He said sighing heavily.

—Nothing much, really! I want You, Damian, Dick and Katy modeling for SVELLYO winter collection catwalk, next week! —

◆◇◆◇

OMG! That was fun! I was going to put a small and cute little drawing of Ailey touching the ears of the Bat-suit but I still haven't finished yet! So yeah…I will edit it once I have it done!

Anyway! I loved writing this, and I will be uploading more content for Ailey, wich now she has her official anti-hero name! And is called

🥁🥁🥁🥁

Secret!

Shout out to @melyaliz / @insideoflit for the name idea! I honestly struggle so much with names 😅

Thanks to @Shiro.GURu (on insta) for helping me with this! Love ya, girl <3

Tagging: @lobodesaturno @snowflake2sstuff @lord-carstairs @weam0theblueblues @morefarthanaway

[blondrichclosetwitch]

I think they've gathered here for me

You are beside me

I am beside you where something is meant to be

Prison can’t hold all this greedy intention

And so _______ calls the cops And they arrive on the scene

With their red lights flashin' in the hot

New Jersey night

He could identify the guilty

"Remember you said you saw the getaway car?"

The trial was a pig-circus, he never had a chance

Guess who testified*

Yes, that's the story of the Hurricane

The gooder they come, the harder they fall

Turn around you are a nasty joke, oh yeah

Get your heart beatin' baby

That's all I ever get from your family ties

Take your little brother swimming

They can't understand it, I'm just a Peace lovin' guy

You know how sometimes you're so tired of the country you could run to the ocean till there's nothing but sky

Blows the cover of lies but in the same breath your heart breaks

That jukebox in the corner blastin' out my favorite song

it won't be long til summer comes, now that the boys are here again

It's no secret that I left you and still I don't know why

We were stuck in a sad song

Only you can make me do what I don't usually do

So don't treat me like a puppet on a string cause I know how to do my thing

You said you wanted to feel alive so we went to the beach

When you don't know who you are you fuck around and find out

I can't hide from you like I hide from myself

I'm tryna protect myself but only you know how to

Thank you, thank you, I'm okay cause you care, I made it through today

Never will forget I came

We all laugh oh, hah, what a gas!—watching you chew on the bones; in the morning light you didn't look so nice

Now, John, at the bar is a friend of mine. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me.

And the waitress is practicing politics

They say he's sick, he’s obscene 

I got no friends 'cause they read the papers

Let me tell you about the other side

Telling my whole life with his words

Killing me softly with his song

Just this side of love is where you'll find the confidence not to continue

It’s up to us to break the cycle

Every step we take from here is vital

You and your girl, things could be pretty

But underneath this there is a secret that nobody can reveal

On Fire Island……

Mommy never laughed when the joke wasn't funny

If someone asked me to describe her I'd recall everything

Where do my parents end and where do I begin?

Daddy always worked hard

He didn't sleep much

Daddy always wanted everyone to like him

I think I'm just like him

Things like that drive me out of my mind

"At the count of 3," he says, "I hope I can disappear"

Baby Borderline

Throw!, away your troubles, baby, dream a dream of me.

You need a big God

Shower your affection, let it rain on me and pull down the mountain, drag your cities to the sea

Coincide with the air, fall in love with the sea

A doom is awaiting unless we undo our damage

I love my baby and my baby loves me

I passed the streets where I lived for 10 years when I saw ya by the river

We walked the beach and You reached for my hand

This is unconditional love

And the moral of the story, I can testify

Cause there's nothing quite like

The blinding light

That curtains cast aside,

And no attempt is made to explain away

Things that really, really, really really really are behind.

You can't hide...

[clove-teasdale]

truths & lies

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge. OKAY Y’ALL, this takes place the same day as THIS FIC from @brooks-schreave  but at night. if u want context re-read that. not entirely necessary if u remember what happened but leaving it there anyway. I hope this wasn’t too bad and I made it justice. thanks grace for the rp <3 ft. my guards and brooks. also, I needed a name at one point and was uncreative, sorry. over 3k words. forgive typos and stuff, enjoy! (and since it’s today, happy holidays!!)

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

I was turning around the last corner to my room when I heard the prince’s voice.

“Officers! A nice evening we're having…”

A small smile formed on my face as I watched Brooks talking with fake enthusiasm aimed at Barnes and Rogers. Seeing them patrolling around the hall was something I was used to by that point and they were quite the amusing pair. According to the maids, Rogers was in his first year of duty, a smart kid extremely loyal to the monarchy. Barnes, in contrast, had been serving for over a decade, already with a family of his own. His loyalty to the job.

Rogers immediately bowed to Brooks, not bothering to question why he’d start such a trivial conversation with them. “Absolutely, Highness.”

Barnes, however, only bowed politely. Sharp as ever as he asked if there was something they could help him with. “Oh, no, no…” Brooks said, kicking the ground, clearly uncomfortable. “You must be wondering why I'm here.”

Rogers shook his head, almost offended at the thought of being considered so disrespectful. “Oh, but it's your palace.”

“It's the floor of the Selected,” Barnes interjected, suspicion and disapproval noticeable before he quickly added, “But it is not our place to wonder, Highness.”

Subtle, Barnes. I walked the rest of the way to my room, getting closer to them quietly. This was sure to be an entertaining conversation, our conspiring could wait.

“Glad you asked!” Brooks clapped his hands together, smiling awkwardly. “I am just checking up on things, being a good guy. I am in no way here to see anyone specific.”

Barnes raised his brows and I shook my head. I had guessed he was a bad liar before, but he was worse than I’d expected.

“You shouldn't worry about that, Highness,” Rogers began, oblivious to Barnes' suspicion, “we're doing our job well, I assure you. You can go on about your day and let us worry about the guarding.”

“For once my partner is right,” Barnes eyed the prince warily, “you should not concern yourself which such trivial things, but it's very... kind of you.”

“I want to be a guard!" Brooks blurted out, practically irradiating panic as he nodded to himself. "Th-that's why I'm here. I'm practicing.”

I rose both eyebrows, almost facepalming before the need to laugh hit me. I contained it though. “You wanna be a what now?”

Barnes and Rogers both looked at him with their own shocked expressions. “That’s unexpected, Highness.”

“That’s an understatement,” Barnes mumbled.

“Yeah, I've just always been fascinated with the... brute work.”

Brooks’ act was crashing and I snorted at the sight. “I hardly think it’s polite of you to call it brute... Highness.”

He turned to fully face me. “Clove, what a coincidence!”

One of my eyebrows went up as I watched him walk over, trying to hide my amusement as I grinned, “Is it?” His eyes narrowed.

“You're right, it isn't,” shaking his head solemnly, he faced the guards, “we're lovers meeting for our nightly tryst.”

My eyes widened before I glared at him, taking a step closer as a silent threat. You little... Fixing a smile on my face, as if that were the type of joking I approved of him, I let out a fake laugh. I punched his arm in faux playfulness though. “How funny, Brooks.”

He grabbed his arm, doing his best to pull up a smile through the pain. “I am a jokester.”

I spared him one last glare, then smiled politely at Barnes and Rogers. “He probably just needs help with that...Spanish homework of his.”

Officer Rogers tilted his head. “Don't you have tutors, Highness?”

“The prince is too shy to ask for help, aren't you Brooks?” I countered.

We didn’t need an awkward pause of Brooks debating what to say, and besides, it was my turn to embarrass him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. Brooks had no other option than to whisper it was true so the dreadful exchange could be over.

“Oh, deeply sorry, Highness. We didn't know,” Rogers apologized quickly. Barnes narrowed his eyes, seeming not quite sure if he should believe it but bowed anyway. “We'll leave you to it.” He spun on his heel to leave and Roger followed quickly with, “At your service, if you ever need it.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Brooks sighed and I reached for his arm to shove him in the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a moment, that weird need to laugh taking over again. This time I let myself do so.

“Stop laughing.” Brooks crossed his arms. “That wasn't funny.”

I ignored him, of course. “You want to be a guard?” I made a face of fake disbelief, bringing a hand to my chest. “How incredibly humble of you.”

“You're amused, aren't you?”

I was. Very much so. Faking a more serious tone I continued, “Brute force is so very important on the life of a guard. I'm glad you are aware of it.” My chuckling became softer as my amusement subsided. It was a little strange to tease him just for the sake of it instead of the usual sting I used when he was being a jerk, but I wasn't about to complain about witnessing such a priceless scene.

“I'm glad you enjoyed that.”

Meeting his gaze, I managed to stop laughing, realizing this was Brooks. I composed myself and cleared my throat. “Yeah, well... anyway....” I walked to the closet, searching for my box hidden behind some shoes. Taking it to the room, I set the box on the bed and opened it to reveal a couple of old magazines, my random sheets with notes, the journal he'd given me from the library, and my own notebook.

Picking up the journal, I flipped through the first pages. “It's been proving a little hard to read, in all honesty, but I've figured out the first chapters in my spare time the last two days.” I handed him the journal opened on the first margin annotation and then reached for my notebook in the box. “This is what I've got so far. I haven't gotten to the details of how they do it yet,” that was in further chapters, “but I'm pretty sure they don't leave the Selection to chance anymore.”

I handed him my notebook opened on my progress. It wasn't much, but there were readable transcriptions of the first Spanish annotations from the margins of the journal, then translations underneath and my own notes for context.

To avoid wasting time reading all of them, he asked, “What does it say?”

“Basically, it seems they consider the royal bloodline to be of utmost importance and therefore thought of it wise to further consider who is worthy enough to produce an heir.” I rolled my eyes as I explained, understanding the concern to some level, but knowing caste alone did not define worthiness. It was about finding the right person and choosing wisely. Heart and mind. “Of course, the whole charade of the Selection is that it's equal and impartial. Letting a daughter of Illéa join the highest of ranks and bring a voice to the people. That means they can't really be openly selective of who is allowed to join and who isn't.” The journal was proof that that didn’t stop them, however.

“But does the heir still have a choice?”

I pressed my lips together, knowing he meant Nate. “I doubt he's aware... Your father on the other hand…”

He closed his eyes. I understood that disappointment well. “That's what I thought. Do you think your dad knows?”

Clenching my jaw, I looked away. “I'm afraid to say it's very likely most of the advisers know.”

Even without reading more of the journal, I knew Dad had to be involved. It would be foolish to deny it. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the strings of logic weaving in my head, creating a fuller picture. Wilson called it my double-edged sword. You can't always hold on to hope when the reality is hitting you right in the face. Just like I had been unable to pretend I didn't notice Miss Grundy's strange mannerisms whenever parent-teacher conferences came along.

A hand on my back broke my thoughts. “Hey, we don't know if this is still going on, and if it is, on the bright side, I guess you're considered worthy.”

He was trying to be nice, but a dry laugh left my mouth either way as I stepped away from his hand. “How fortunate to be defined by a number.” I knew he was trying to be nice. To joke, be light-hearted. Sadly for him, I wasn’t the best when it came to people comforting me.

Actually, I probably wasn’t the best at comforting others either. Not in the most conventional of ways at least. I chewed the inside of my cheek, muttering, “I didn't think he was that type of person.” Then shaking my head, I focused back on the box. There was no point in sulking. I just had to push it aside.

With the help of the palace library, I’d found a book on the analysis of handwriting. There were a couple of general markers that people used to figure out psychological aspects of who’d been holding the pen, but some were also used to predict the probable gender of the writer. I had printed out pictures I’d taken from the book, showing stroke samples and statistics.

Standing next to Brooks so he could compare the writing in the journal, I steered our conversation back to the research. “I have no clue who wrote this since it was years ago, but considering the way of the strokes it was very likely a man.”

“I take offense to that remark.”

“Great. That's extra points for it being an accident.”

He smiled at my quick retort. “How many points were earned for the slap?”

I looked at him surprised, holding back a grin by pressing my lips together and pushing him away, taking the journal in the process. “That was your own fault.”

“Maybe so, but violence is never the answer.”

“Fair point.” I wasn’t about to argue against it, so instead, I said the truth with a shrug. “I was in a bad mood.”

“I was trying to provoke you.”

Faking a gasp, I gave him a perplexed look. “Were you really?!” Then letting my expression fall flat, “What a plot twist.”

He laughed, which wasn't too bad a sound, bumping shoulders with me as he kept a smile on. “It's how I show I care.”

I scoffed. “That's a stupid way of showing it.”

“Next time, I'll just shower you with compliments. Promise.”

“Sure. Let's see if you don't die from such a hardship.”

His eyes brightened for some reason as he leaned towards me, acting dramatically. “Oh, my dearest Clove, how your smile shines like the sun.” I raised an eyebrow and he leaned closer, looking at the ceiling and clutching his chest. “Your voice is like a song and I'm addicted to the melody.”

I crossed my arms and countered, “Max said my name alone was like music.”

He looked back down at me with a small smile. “And how right he was.”

I did my best not to seem too amused as I narrowed my eyes. This is probably how he acts around Eloise. I feigned suspicion, lifting my chin. “So this is how you get all the other girls to like you, huh?”

“Oh yeah, they can't contain themselves.”

“Are you admitting you've been flirting with the Selected?”

“Absolutely. I just can't help it.”

I chuckled at his persistence to keep this going. Though I wasn’t sure what it even was. Joking? Acting like decent human beings around each other for once? “What’s gotten into you?”

He stopped, leaning back. “You told me to be nice.”

“Oh, sorry,” I joked, aiming for the harmless teasing from earlier, “I thought that word wasn’t in your vocabulary. It's unexpected I must admit.”

He tilted his head. “All you had to do was ask.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ve implied it before and so far, before today, you’ve failed.”

“You looked like you needed cheering up.” I could only blink at him after that, taken aback by his admission. I hadn’t thought he would actually notice, let alone help.

I’d had lunch with my dad the previous day, unable to cancel even if the last thing I wanted to do was face him after the journal. He’d lied to my face and there was nothing I could say about it. I had to act like everything was okay. Like I didn't know what he was involved in.

Pushing down the wave of anger at the memory of sitting with him and laughing at his jokes, I closed my eyes and let silence fill the room. Brooks and I would figure out the truth. Somehow, eventually, we would have the needed proof.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at him, allowing myself to smile, yet it turned into a full-on grin as I shook my head. The dork and I working together. Who would’ve thought? I tilted my head in his direction, watching him for a moment. “Thanks, then.”

He smiled back, some sort of pride lighting up his features, “Anytime.”

Mere seconds later, however, he looked away, hands fidgeting. I scratched the back of my neck, awkwardness rubbing off on me too. Change of subject it is. “So, what are we planning to do with this information once we've got more figured out?” I thought about it for a second. “I want others to know.”

“Wow, Teasdale. Looks like we agree. Let's hope the world doesn't end.”

“Dramatic much?” I asked, but he claimed to be a dramatic person on a regular basis. I said I used 'annoying' as his usual adjective and he brought some sarcasm into the mix by calling me ‘absolutely delightful’. “I see the compliments keep coming. Trying to keep me in a good mood?”

That finally got him flustered. “Y'know this is harder than it looks. I don't know how to act around you. I jus-I'm a little lost here.”

“And you think I know?" The need to defend me took over. Little kids arguing. "Before the library, the last thing you let me know was how no one wanted me around. Not precisely the most welcoming of statements.” He froze, stuttering and I sighed. “Just save it, Brooks. Point is I'm entitled to my skepticism, and as you said before, we weren't precisely friends in the past. You had no reasons to argue with me or accuse me of anything and yet you still did so.” Maybe I was a little angry about it. “I don't even know why.”

He looked down with frustration, but composed himself quickly, meeting my gaze again. “I know I haven't been the most polite, or chivalrous, o-or decent man to you.” He closed his eyes. “You have to understand, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why it's aimed towards you. I'm sorry.”

I stared at him as he kept his eyes shut, seeming far too embarrassed to look at me. Part of me couldn't believe he’d actually apologized. I wasn't sure if it was the most eloquent of apologies, but there was truth behind his words.

When he kept his eyes closed, I took a moment to think about how to reply. I wasn’t sure if this meant we could try to be friends now--an idea he’d completely loathed years back--but maybe, for the sake of our teamwork, we would have to avoid killing each other before getting answers.

Reaching for a pillow, I threw it at him. “That's my acceptance of your apology. You can open your eyes now.”

He opened them cautiously. “You've gotten violent.”

“It was that or…” I walked over and paused, reconsidering one last time before offering a hand for him to shake. “Clove Teasdale.” It was the same greeting I’d made the first time we’d met. When we were both just two freckled three-year-olds.

Back then he’d refused to accept it. Today he didn’t. “Brooks Schreave.”

I kept eye contact as he held to my hand, waiting for him to shake it and pointing out, “The pillow was more fun.”

He squeezed slightly. “Can't say I enjoyed it as much as an alternative response.”

“Like hitting you with two pillows?” I suggested. He gave me a flat look that made me grin. “I figured.”

His hand didn't move to shake, but he didn’t let go either so I glanced down at our joined hands. Uh... when I met his gaze again he was still looking directly at me, his expression awkward as I was getting used to at that point.

Not knowing what to do, he started swinging our hands. “I don't know how to stop. I feel like it'll make things awkward.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up. I hoped he didn’t feel like I was making fun of him, this was just a side of him I’d never seen before. “More awkward than to keep holding hands? Should I help you out?”

He nodded. “We'll both let go on the count of three.”

“One,” I began, “two,” he continued.

“Three,” I let go. He didn’t.

Well.

He snatched his hand back. “Whoops, made that worse.” I rolled my eyes and hit him with the pillow again after picking it up. He stumbled back. “That's not a soft pillow!” Then, attempting to take the cushion away, he accidentally pulled me with it.

Letting go of the pillow quickly, Brooks caught me before I could stumble forward, but in the process, Mr. clumsy decided to slip on the fallen pillow. My eyes widened as I placed hands out in front of me, hoping not to fall flat on my face. He swiftly shifted our positions to cushion my fall, however, groaning as I fell on his chest instead of the floor. “Shoot.”

Idiot. I moved off him, resting my back on the floor and admiring the ceiling. “You’re horrible.”

He ignored that and joked by saying I had a nice ceiling. I said it wasn’t mine, but he argued it was "for the time being."

“Wonder how long that’ll be.” After the discovery of the journal I hoped I'd be able to stay long enough to figure that out.

“You'll probably be here for a while, logs.”

I narrowed my eyes at his tone. “You’ve never called me that.”

“That's because it's stupid.”

I scoffed, lifting my upper body with the help of my elbows. “We were like 5.” I couldn’t tell if there was anger or annoyance in his gaze at the ceiling, but the word jealousy, also crossed my mind as I remembered my conversation with Quinn. I still couldn’t believe Brooks could have had a crush on me once, but if he had…

“You were clearly in love with him then," he stated, and I knew he meant Nate as he leaned up on his elbows too, locking eyes with me, "but tell me, are you now?”

I decided to keep the discussion civil as we’d failed to do in the past regarding this topic. “I’ve never been in love.” With Nate or otherwise.

“Me neither.”

“Then why do you assume I was?”

“Childhood infatuation is a common thing,” he explained, speaking a little lower.

“Infatuation is stupid.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “it is.” He was leaning closer, I could tell. He’d been moving in since the moment he’d sat up.

I frowned at the shift in the room, his face only an inch away. He was too close. What are you-... I opened my mouth but was cut off by a knock at the door.

“LADY CLOVE, DID YOU EAT DINNER?” I almost laughed at the sound of Barnes. Brooks stopped getting closer and moved away, looking down with a sigh as he lowered himself back to the floor.

Yelling back at Barnes on the other side of the door, I said, “I did!” And gave my current companion a suspicious glance.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR VISITOR?” Barnes called again. “MAYBE HE SHOULD LEAVE TO GET SOME FOOD.”

I silently questioned Brooks about what he’d thought he was doing as I replied, “Yes, maybe.” His blue eyes met mine without an answer.

“I heard dinner was quite delicious, Highness. You should check it out.”

“I'm sure it was,” the prince called back. To me, he added, “I think I should go.” Standing up, he gave me a slight nod before walking to the door, opening it and offering Barnes a smile as the guard moved aside to let him pass, bowing. I watched as his back disappeared with a raised eyebrow, unsure if I should let myself assume anything.

Then my expression was for Barnes as he stood by the door. “What was that all about?”

“General concern for your eating habits, Lady Clove. You’ve already skipped breakfast today I was told.”

Yeah, right. I’d gotten food with Eloise later anyway. “Officer Barnes?”

He pressed his lips together, but when I didn’t let him go he simple admitted, “I know what it’s like to be his age.”

I rolled my eyes. Jacinda had mentioned the officer had a soft spot for protecting people easily whether he liked to admit it or not. A lot of the younger staff members looked up to him because he looked out for them.

"It's not like that," I mumbled, but even as I said it, I stared back into the room. At the fallen pillow I'd hit Brooks with.

It couldn’t be.

[angeltriestoblog]

Sophomore year recap, vol. 1

Funny how I only ever go on this blog to give sporadic life updates, which are honestly just lengthier versions of what goes on my Instagram dump. But, I'd hate to let this practice die—plus, I love to write, so it continues for another year. I recently wrapped up my first semester of sophomore year—yet another testament to how fast time flies by—and it's safe to presume that it was the most rewarding chapter of my stay in Ateneo, thus far. I admit I did spend most of my freshman year in my comfort zone (while still managing to make my fair share of rookie mistakes, go me!). Although I don't completely blame myself for not being able to adjust from the get-go, I do admit that my life would have been much easier if I didn't take so long to warm up to the idea of embracing change and taking risks. Upon realizing this, there was a certain pressure that came with it to make up for lost time and try to do as much I could before my body eventually gives out.

For starters, I became more active in the three organizations I am a member of, all of which demanded so much of my energy, and pushed my brain power and time management skills to the test, but were very fulfilling to be in nonetheless. (A little note from Editing Angel: This is where this post starts to look a little bit like a LinkedIn profile.)

I signed up to be a part of the Sanggunian, the student government of the University, under the Commission on Mental Health, since I am an advocate for challenging the stigma that surrounds this issue, as well as providing the proper support to those who need it. I was eventually put under Secretariat, where I was in charge of the databases and documents, taking minutes of the meeting, and updating attendance and post trackers. Although it wasn't the department I had originally planned on getting into, I did enjoy learning about the more technical side of the team and took pride in the fact that I was able to put some of the lessons I learned in ITM over intersession to good use. And by that I mean conditional formatting, but whatever ok!

But, at some point the forces of the universe decided to pull some strings and bring me to my first choice: Humans of Ateneo (HOA), a page that aims to share stories of those within the Ateneo community with the hopes of inspiring others. To this day, I work there as a literary editor, who is basically in charge of transcribing recordings of interviews and turning them into the text posts our audience sees on their Facebook timelines. I love what I do right now, because not only do I feel endlessly inspired by each story of resilience I encounter, but also fulfilled since I am partly responsible for getting that story out there for the rest of the world to see. But, I guess it wouldn't be entirely wrong to say that my favorite story so far has to be Mayor Vico Sotto's, especially because HOA Core (minus Marice, and plus Yanna) and I travelled all the way to Pasig City Hall to hear it from him in the flesh. I can confirm that he is definitely more good-looking in person, that he establishes eye contact when he speaks, and that he is one of the most insightful and substantial human beings I've ever met.

Since being a part of the team, I have also had access to opportunities both within the sub-commission and Sanggu, as a whole. I've been given leadership positions that allowed me to step up to the plate, one of which was directing a video we launched in celebration of World Mental Health Day. My co-project head Bel and I had to conceptualize it from scratch based solely on a spoken word poem given to us, and plan and plot its shooting over the course of one week—definitely a feat given our conflicts in schedule, and the unpredictable weather. Next year, I'll be pretty hands-on when it comes to manning the Peer Support Group of our commission, as I have been assigned as a member of the core team, so that's definitely something to watch out for.

I've attended active listening workshops to help me be better in tending to the needs of others: by either providing them with a newfound support system, or sharing sound advice. I was a part of the sub-core team behind Humans of Ateneo: IRL, where prestigious alumni were invited to speak on their journeys, much like three HOA posts come to life. I also ended up emceeing a freshman drug talk all by myself, because I was only informed at the very last minute that my co-host had other commitments to attend to. I remember practically shaking from the nerves and squealing right in front of the speakers that day, but I managed to pull through with more confidence and less awkward finger guns than I thought possible.

I think this is the org where I took the most initiative and was therefore the busiest, but I didn't mind at all because I was surrounded by such wonderful people. I met most of my team over intersession during a workshop that I wasn't even wholeheartedly willing to attend (because it coincided with what was my last chance to catch Ben&Ben live on their Limasawa Street tour), and thus wasn't expecting much out of. But, we meshed so well together almost instantly as we opened up to one another about experiences and secrets we only would have shared to our closest friends. The acceptance and belongingness was palpable from that point on, and it continues to manifest in how strong our bond is right now.

Aside from that, I got in The GUIDON, the University's student publication, as a Features writer. This is going to sound like such a humble brag, but I honestly didn't expect to be accepted. I'm well aware of how rigorous the week-long application process is, I got the news from friends who failed to make the cut and even saw it for myself during the general assembly they held specifically for applicants. I remember checking my e-mail and being greeted by a list of requirements I needed to accomplish for both of the staffs I applied for: mock articles, interviews, live tweets that all needed to show my unique writing style and authentic take on issues both in and outside the four walls of the campus, that were so overwhelming in scope that I had to call up a friend just to yell in her ear for 10 straight minutes. For the next few days after, tears were shed, friends were ghosted, drafts were created then scrapped, fished out of the Recently Deleted folder, and revised in an endless and vicious cycle—I don't think I had ever written as eloquently, gone as long without checking my phone, or listened to only one playlist on loop for literal days prior to those moments, and yet I was still very unsure of my chances because I knew I was up against some tough competition: veteran staffers of high school publications, and liberal arts majors who looked like they had more personality in their thumbs than I did in my entire body. I remember beating myself up for backing out of my second choice (hi Vantage), which would significantly decrease my chances of getting in. It's just that I knew I was incapable of submitting anything that wasn't half-assed at that point, and I couldn't bear to show them anything that I myself could not give an Angel Seal of Approval.

Thankfully, all of my hard work paid off eventually. Only two days after I had submitted the folder containing my requirements to the respective editor, I was working on a paper in a cafe (the table adjacent to the door of Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf, Robinsons Galleria, to be very exact) when I received the acceptance letter in my inbox. I burst into tears, crumpled to the floor, and replied with the most articulate response I could muster: “SKLDFJSDLKFJSDLKFJSDLFJSLFSDKJ THANK YOU SO MUCH I am literally crying in the middle of this coffee shop.... thank you.... so much....”

As of this writing, I've published two articles under Features: one about the ghosting phenomenon that remains prevalent in romantic relationships, and another about the experiences of Ateneans with autism spectrum disorder. My job honestly feels like both work and a vacation at the same time, because it allows me to talk about a diverse set of topics with interesting people who are experts in the field, while doing what I feel like I'm best at. But, since a part of me will always consider Vantage my TOTGA, I took on some extra work for them and wrote a film review on "G!", a movie that came out as part of the Pista ng Pelikulang Pilipino earlier this year, which has proven itself to be the worst I've seen in my entire life for reasons I cannot even begin to explain. I didn't necessarily have high expectations of it upon seeing the trailer, but I hyped myself up for it nevertheless. I even bought tickets for me and my friend Christine online because I was afraid that they would be sold out, and we dashed out of our MSYS classroom as soon as our professor said goodbye to book a Grab and hurry to SM North EDSA to make it to our screening... only to barge in the theater and see that we were the only two people in the cinema. I mean, there was one couple in the far corner, but they didn't look very present. In addition to that, I did a food review on a JSEC stall called Chopsticks. I honestly think that food is the most challenging topic to write about, because it's hard to convey how something tastes. When someone asks me to describe the viand I'm eating, I often end up just giving them a spoonful so they can see for themselves. But, I hopped on it anyway, because how could I even say no to sampling an entire menu of Chinese food for free? Several plates of dimsum and chicken later, I gave them a well-deserved five star rating and consider myself as a frequent diner. The experience was made extra fun since I was able to chat with the owner of the business, and my photographer who turned out to be someone I followed on Instagram way back in 2015 and admired for how clean and curated her feed was! (Hi, Kim and Alexis hehe)

As if all of the things mentioned above weren't already enough, I also covered a talk on the future of scientists in the Philippines (which I also have an article on—this goes to show just how diverse the scope of my work can get), attended workshops on feature writing and the relation of journalism and mental health, participated in a rally against professors involved in sexual harassment cases in the Ateneo (pretty badass behavior, if you ask me!), and became a facilitator for a high school publication in this event called Point One. I guess I have The GUIDON to thank for my lack of writer's block: they've managed to keep my brain running on hyperdrive, and my creative juices flowing more than they ever have before.

Last but not the least, of course I chose to stay in my home organization, ACTM. Although I didn’t run for any position or apply to be a part of the Leaders Core (yet), I did my best to make myself visible and show my support in any of the events we participated in or projects that we spearheaded. I signed up as a part of the logistics subcore for the annual Prepcourse, where I helped out with set design and ran some errands for officers in the different booths they manned throughout that day. I honestly have a soft spot for the project, since I remember that the first time I felt genuinely happy during freshman year was during my own Prepcourse (Orsem didn't really do it for me, sorry friends) so even though I missed the chance to be a facilitator, I still wanted to be a part of the event in some way. I also hung out with blockmates and friends all throughout Tambay Week, supported our candidates for Mr. and Ms. SOM, as well as our dance team for RIB eliminations, and dressed up as Kim Possible for the annual Halloween party we held—I was even able to go with Ron Stoppable, thanks to my friend Iverson, who dressed up as him as a surprise.

Although the obvious highlight of my stay in ACTM so far has to be attending LEAP, a three-day leadership training seminar in Iba, Zambales. I remember this particular moment where I was wandering around the beachfront, lowkey frolicking in the water, while my groupmates were playing capture the flag. (In my defense, I was never the physically adept type of person, and knew I'd be helping my team out more if I stayed out of the playing area and cheered on them from the sidelines. But, anyway, I digress.) I could see the golden flecks of sunlight glistening on the waves, and the froth from the seawater hitting my toes, and when I looked back beyond the shore, I saw my friends having fun, running back and forth across the sand. As cliche as it sounds, I couldn't help but mutter to myself, "Wow."

Because at that time last year, I clearly remember being slumped on my couch, scrolling through one LEAP-related IG story after another, feeling this sense of FOMO that I didn't know how to deal with. On one hand, I hated that I wasn't part of something that looked equal parts fun and value-adding, but at the same time, I knew that if I were there, I'd be sticking out like a sore thumb and suffering all the more because I was at the point where social interaction had become physically painful for me. Maybe that's why this LEAP was extra special to me: besides all of the great people I met and the insights I picked up along the way, it served as a reminder of how far I've come, and how much farther I have to go during the rest of my stay in college.

(That honestly would have been the perfect way to end this post, but I have so much more I have to cover. How anti-climactic.)

Aside from my newfound love for organization life, I gained a lot of new friends and strengthened the ties I have with old ones. Back then, I was very selective of those I talked to and let in my circle: I let first impressions get the best of me, or allowed shyness to take center stage every time there was a chance to meet new people. Now, I'm close to both blockmates and batchmates: I go to their birthday celebrations, support events that they're a part of, hang out in their condo units to binge on fastfood, or sometimes just sit on the Matteo Steps with them in the middle of doing requirements to vent for 10 minutes before begrudgingly returning to our tables.

I miraculously also had time to sneak in some pretty fun stuff in my schedule despite my workload. Although I wasn’t able to prioritize making content for this blog, I got my writing on the national paper! It was in the first semester of my freshman year when I heard about Inquirer Youngblood from my English professor. Apparently, they accept essays about any topic under the sun from anyone aged 29 and below. Since I felt there would be no harm in trying, I crafted this little piece that aimed to show a different side of being an only child, as opposed to the “spoiled and entitled” stereotype that is usually stuck on us. I didn’t get my hopes up so as to not be disappointed, so when a couple of days had passed and my article wasn’t showing up on print, I gave up and moved on. Good thing my friend Bea sent me a photo of the September 8 issue of the newspaper (coincidentally the same day I got accepted into The GUIDON!), or else I wouldn’t have seen that I got published. I admit that even though writing is all I’ve ever really known since I was young, I’m not a hundred percent confident in my skill, nor do I always see the purpose behind what I do. But, it’s instances like that, that remind me of why I keep at it.

Another capital-G Great thing that happened was getting tickets to the UAAP men’s basketball championship game! As someone who made Ateneo her dream school at age five because of how much she loved the Blue Eagles, witnessing them end the season with a sweep and a championship was everything to me. And getting to do so with my closest friends in my block just made the experience even better than it was. Also, seeing Renzo Subido play in person—all my friends can attest to the fact that I was facing a huge moral dilemma mid-game, because every time he made a basket, I would end up cheering for him. (With a face like that, how could I not though)

I even found my way back in the gig scene after a long hiatus, with no less than Ang Bandang Shirley, Over October, and Munimuni welcoming me back with open arms. I had got tickets on a whim with my friend from my days as a full-on K-Pop stan, Reanna, even though it was the weekend before a big Accounting exam, if I remember correctly. But, I have no regrets: I have a feeling that very few moments in life can make me feel the way I did when Umaapaw (one of my favorite songs in the world) was being played right in front of me. Surprisingly, I didn't cry when that happened—same for Wait and Sa Hindi Pag-alala, but then again maybe I was too dazed to process what was going on.

I saw Ben&Ben just a week ago, which served as the perfect way to cap off this stressful semester. The last time I saw them was way back in October 2018: conflicts in schedule due to prior commitments, or location issues kept getting in the way that it's like they had to take matters into their own hands and head on over to Ateneo just so I could see them again. Although they didn't perform my favorite song, I can't exactly say that I was disappointed because nothing really beats the feeling of seeing them and singing along to tracks that have served as the soundtrack of my life, and are practically etched on my heart. (I am actually tearing up just writing this paragraph god am I emo! I miss them already, wow! Just wanna hear Araw-Araw live, what do I do about this!)

I also managed to finish all 10 seasons of Friends despite my irregular viewing patterns—I started it during our trip to the States before the school year began, and constantly teetered between watching one or two episodes as a reward for finishing a reading due the next day and binging one season during rare weekends that do not require working on deliverables but honestly could have been used to get ahead in lessons. This is a pretty big deal, considering that I have the attention span of a sleep-deprived cockroach and haven't finished a single White People Show since... well, Austin & Ally back in 2017 (which I actually marathoned on Dailymotion, but that's a story for another day). But, I guess there's just something special about this group of pals going through the motions of their everyday lives in the eccentric, sometimes borderline stupid ways that only they can, because I admit: the emotional investment was and is very, very real! I personally identify myself as a Chandler-Rachel hybrid now (thank you, Iverson), try to see which character the people I meet are like most out of fun, and argue to no end with anyone who ever claims that Ross and Rachel (1) were on a break, and (2) are endgame.

Most importantly, I was able to do all of this and still clinch a spot on the Dean's List. I started this semester on an optimistic note: I found all of my subjects interesting, and the professors who taught them, engaging. I'd even make notes on the readings the day before they were to be discussed in class, complete with pops of color here and there courtesy of my fineliner pens and Stabilo highlighters. But, once I reached the halfway point, my motivation started waning. Papers and quizzes, oral exams and video projects were thrown in my direction at breakneck speed: I often found myself cramming output for the sake of having something to submit, and not even having the time to look at readings due for discussion the following day. It came to a point where I thought of shifting out, because I felt I wasn't doing well enough in my majors to justify my stay. Sounds pretty stupid when I look back at it, I guess I simply mistook extreme stress and fatigue with falling out of love with the only program that I ever wanted to get in when I was applying for Ateneo. Thank God I didn't give up though, or else I wouldn't be able to enjoy the fruits of my labor right now. I honestly wasn't expecting stellar grades, considering the number of extracurricular commitments I took on, but now that they're there, I'm not complaining at all! Shoutout to my favorite professors of the semester: Mam Vaswani, who taught me that there is always room for improvement even in my own area of expertise; Sir Atienza, who made lectures feel like casual kwentuhans (or sometimes even chillnumans); and Sir Rebato, who broke the world record for longest patience in the world.

I guess it's safe to say that I am the happiest and most content I have been in a while, and although I am afraid of jinxing it, I feel like it's only gonna go upward from here. I am beyond excited to see where the new year and semester take me, because I know I'll do my part in making sure it's even better and brighter than this one. If you read up to this point, you deserve a pat on the back! Maybe you only scrolled to this point to see if there were any pictures with your face on them, but who cares! It adds to my website traffic, so thank you, happy holidays, and I wish you nothing but love and light always!