#don’t listen to him transistor sister

[javelinbk]

Paul McCartney listening to his transistor radio in New York, 9th February 1964

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

teddy, king, beloved, sunbright,

what the fuck are the ballad brothers

Therse guys in my head. I don’t know very much about them but maybe making a masterpost will help? Literally I cannot emphasize enough how much I was just listening to music while I was driving and. now there’s guys in there. With a lot of implied sci-fantasy worldbuilding I don’t understand yet. Anyway!

Kyrie Aleidis Ballad

29, she/her, former sword-for-hire, current fugitive. The older Ballad Brother. Priorities include vibing and keeping things good for her baby brother (before) and trying to fix the world after it broke (metaphorically) while she was gone (after). Diagnosed big fuckoff “microchip sword like that guy from Transistor”

The Horatio to FG!C. The Gojo to Haibara. The Mordred to Gawain (HNOC). Also Guinevere (HNOC). Laertes (Hamlet). If Roddy was a little more serious and had less responsibility. Little bit of Cyclonus aswell but in a Whirl way. Dyker robobs if he was marginally less traumatized.

Alonzo ‘Toro’ Ballad

(Except only Kyrie is allowed to call him that)(Ari tried it once to be obnoxious and he punched them)

25, he/him, former Little Guy, current sword-for-hire. The younger Ballad Brother. Priorities include: being just like his sister when he grows up (before) and do you think he fuckin knows he’s just trying to get from day to day over here (after). Terminal funny bitch (emphasis on the bitch). He’s even asexual.

If Feldspar DM grew up to be FG!C/Underhill Jay Sleepaway. The Haibara to Gojo. Gawain HNOC. Tien Stormlight. Cyrus Planegays. They’re both kind of Zoro also actually. If Miki RGU grew up to be John-or-Benny OSCU. If you combined the entire Ricosquad robobs into one guy.

Ari Basil Finch (Seneca)

25, any pronouns, several jobs best summed up as Mad Scientist. (Weapons tech guy. Intern. Part time front desk in the financial department. Necromancer. Not the order they would put those in.) Priorities include: bringing their [somebody] back from the dead, causing problems on purpose. (No I don’t know who they’re trying to bring back I just know they can’t do it.)(why? good question.) Nepo baby extraordinaire. There’s something wrong with them in the brain <3

Other Things I Know:

there’s an organization

Kyrie fucked off to work there as a sword for hire when Alonzo was like 14 without saying anything (first time they had ever been meaningfully separated)

These bitches don’t have parents (possibly sci-fi shenanigans)

Alonzo found out that’s where she was a couple years later and joined up as soon as he could

Shortly before that she quit and/or got fired very very dramatically and became the organization’s Public Enemy Number One

Alonzo was kind of underground during that and he still doesn’t really know what’s going on. He’s not gonna get her ass tho.

At some point they have a confrontation swordfight on a roof. I don’t know what the deal with that is.

Alonzo and Ari have a weird fucked up gay thing going on best described as Part Time Boyfriends. Kind of dating. Also Ari is 100% milking the sugar daddy angle of Running Front Desk In The Financial Department. And also they’re kind of just coworkers (derogatory). (TLDR. POV you have to wrangle with the financial department at work to get your expenses account in order for your next assassination but you got a little too close to the guy running the front desk over there and now they think it’s funny to fuck with you)

Alonzo doesn’t have any faith in the necromancy. Heehoo!

That’s about it??? Rotations to follow.

[ohblackdiamond]

life and life only (eventual paul/gene, current paul/victoria) (pg) (part 5 of ?)

part 1 | part 2 |  part 3  | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Mermaid AU. Paul lives in isolation in a sunken ship with his sister, until a new mer comes by to see his ship, and he starts to reassess the human world. In this chapter: Paul spends the day as a human and goes to Victoria’s play, where he’s immersed in the world ashore more than he ever has been before. Victoria’s past continues to raise more questions than answers.

They mated twice more that afternoon. Victoria called in for delivery-- sushi, which he’d developed a taste for over the course of the last several months. They ate it in her bedroom, listening to her record collection. She had all the Doors’ albums and most of the Beatles’. But there were more. Songs he’d only heard snippets of on the transistor radio and in the cabs and shops. Led Zeppelin. Neil Diamond (“he’s more pop,” she’d said apologetically, although he’d liked Brother Love’s Travelling Salvation Show). The Rolling Stones. Most of the bands had a harsh bite to them, whether it was in the hammering drums or the wailing guitars or the sex-saturated lyrics. There was something slick and dark to their underbellies. Some subversive passion he shouldn’t have admired at all, when what he’d shared with her was almost sacred.

They slept in each other’s arms that night. He was half-surprised when he woke up the next morning to find that he hadn’t reverted in his sleep. His feet didn’t look dry or feel any funnier than usual as he slowly swung them over the side of the bed.

“I’m making you something,” Victoria called out from the kitchen. “Do you like eggs?”

“I like roe.”

He could hear her giggle.

“This is a little different. It’s chicken eggs. I’m scrambling them. C’mon to the kitchen, Paul. I made some lox ’n’ bagels too.”

He didn’t know what lox was, either, but he figured it out when he saw it on the table. Salmon. Cream cheese on the bagels, too. He dug in eagerly. Across from him, Victoria nibbled on her own bagel, barely picking at the eggs.

“Your show’s today, too, right? When is it?”

“Two and eight. I have to be there earlier.”

“I can go to both the shows.”

“Oh, no, I wouldn’t want you to sit through it twice. Come to the one at eight. That way I can introduce you to everybody after.”

He nodded.

“Should I-- can I stay here until then?”

“That’s what I was hoping.” Without being asked, she spread more cream cheese and lox onto a fresh bagel, putting it on his empty plate. “But I don’t want you feeling like I trapped you. And I don’t want you getting bored.”

“I won’t. We didn’t get through half your record collection.”

Courting her. He was courting her. All through the rest of breakfast, he couldn’t get that single, unbelievable thought out of his mind. He had held her. Kissed her. Mated with her. All the secret things he’d never believed he’d learn, she was teaching him now.

“You can’t live off music,” she said, and poked him lightly in the arm.

“You do. And they do. The guys on the records.”

“I don’t make much. Neither do they. The companies take it all.” She crossed over to the bedroom, coming back with underwear, jeans, and another sweater, which she tugged on as she spoke. “The phone book’s in the-- no. I’ll find a number for you. You can call in a pizza for lunch this afternoon, if you want.”

“I don’t want to make you spend--”

“You’re not.” She grabbed her purse, taking out a few bills and handing it to him. “That should be enough for the cab, too… and here, here’s the card, it has the number to call on it. They’ll deliver it over.”

“Okay.” He set it down on the table. She leaned in, pecking him on the lips.

“I’ll see you soon, Paulie.”

--

He played the rest of her records once she was gone. She had some softer bands in there. Kenny Rogers and the First Edition had an interesting twang he didn’t recognize. Then there were Jimi Hendrix and Creedence Clearwater Revival and The Lovin’ Spoonful, and a very puzzling band called the Turtles (he had assumed they were related to the Beatles, but they looked nothing like them). Then she had some by musicians he’d never heard of before. People like the Four Tops and the Temptations and Smokey Robinson and the Miracles. He liked them, too, but he kept coming back to the Beatles records, drawn like a remora to a shark. He played Abbey Road over and over, until he learned all the lyrics and could finally sing along, instead of just hum. Maybe he was kidding himself, but he thought his voice sounded better out of the water than in it.

She’d only been gone a few hours at that point. Paul put the records back on the shelf, considering. She’d left her jewelry box open. It was easy enough to find the other earring. The tiny diamond glimmered just enough to be noticeable. He put it back, although he couldn’t help but touch the one she’d put in his ear, couldn’t help but take a glance in the mirror.

You look like a rockstar. He looked like a mess. He hadn’t shaved (mermen generally did, until they hit middle age) and his hair was puffier than ever, the curls tangled and hopeless, falling slightly past his shoulders. He sighed, about to look for a comb, when that picture of the little blonde girl on the mirror caught his eye again.

He took it out from the corner of the mirror and flipped it over. A child’s block letters were on the back:

“VICKI

AGE 6

1955”

Strange. The little girl looked like her and the year would’ve been about right, but it didn’t make sense. He wondered if her family was one of those progressive types who tried to get their kids landlocked quickly. Except six was far too young to even be able to go human in the first place.

His own curiosity made him feel guilty. He didn’t need to dig around to figure out more about her. They were courting. They’d mated. They’d shared so much already that he was certain Victoria would tell him on her own, if there was really any need to know.

He got brave and hungry enough to get dressed and call the number for pizza about half an hour later, but got confused when the man on the phone asked about the toppings. He didn’t exactly know what he’d ordered, but he paid the man when he brought it to her apartment, and ate a few pieces. Some meat he hadn’t had before was on top of the slices. Victoria had tried sometimes to get him to branch away from only eating fish and sweets when he came ashore, but the only new type of meat he’d really liked so far was chicken. This wasn’t chicken, but it was-- okay. A little greasy.

He’d spent more than an entire day human at that point. Longer than he ever had before. It made him a bit nervous, even though logically, he knew there was no remote danger of being landlocked. He wasn’t suffering any weird physical effects from staying ashore, either; he just didn’t feel like himself. His legs just felt borrowed, like they weren’t really part of him.

So after lunch, he filled up the small tub in her bathroom, climbed in, and reverted to mer. It wasn’t comfortable. He couldn’t get the water temperature right, or stretch his tail out to its full length, his tailfin and about a foot of his tail ending up pressed up against the side of the tub and the wall. He ran his fingers down past his hip, to that indistinct edge where skin started to give way to scales, trying to reassure himself and relax. Empty his mind a bit. Only, alone, with no other distractions, he started thinking about Julia again, wondering if she had already come home. He doubted it, but he hoped she had. He’d… he’d make it up to her somehow.

(you’ve stopped me ever since you were born)

(you ruined everything)

His stomach roiled.

Despite that, he managed to nap in the tub for awhile, into the afternoon. When he finally got up, he dried his hair and combed it, borrowing a razor to shave his face. It was getting close now. Almost time for him to see the play. Victoria had left enough money for the cab fare, and his ticket was at the box office. He pulled on yesterday’s clothes and headed off.

--

Surprisingly, he didn’t have much trouble with the cab or the box office. The humans that filled up the Broadway Theater at night were different from the ones on the docks. A lot of them were dressed far better than he was, and yet, for some reason, he ended up with as many approving glances as disapproving ones as he was ushered to his seat near the back of the theatre.

He didn’t know what to expect when the curtain went up. It wasn’t what he got. It was an onslaught. All the actors and actresses kept running up and interacting with the audience, which frightened him, though they never made it near his seat. He couldn’t exactly follow the plot, or any of the people it was referencing. They kept poking fun at things he didn’t understand. There was a war going on in the play. Something about draft cards. They all seemed fed up over something. A million things.

The songs were no less catchy but even dirtier than the rock music he’d listened to in her apartment. Full of a passion he admired but couldn’t understand. Frankly, he’d rarely heard a mer curse half as much as the actors. The nude scene midway through was as laughable as Victoria had said. Just a handful of the cast-- Victoria and maybe eight or nine others-- stripped behind a screen and walked out bare onstage for a minute at best. He didn’t know what they were trying to accomplish with it. What statement they were trying to make. It just seemed foolish.

But while Victoria was onstage, he could let all his confusion go. Even from as far back as his seat was, she was radiant. Her voice was honey-warm, rich in its depths, more powerful than her thin frame would suggest. She moved so fluidly, so gracefully. It was a funny feeling. He felt warm watching her-- but there was something else, too. Something he envied.

Because as he was watching her, they were, too. The rest of the audience. They were responding to her-- responding to every bit of the action onstage. It was so different from the attention he’d always shrunk from ever since he was a child. The pity and whispers from the other mer and even, he was sure, from the humans. He’d endured it, and hid from it, his whole life. He hadn’t known there was any other way to be looked at. He hadn’t known that some people were stared at and whispered about because they were admired. Because they wanted to be like them. Beautiful. Talented. Brilliant.

He wanted it. Just the thought of it made him feel strange and heady. Being looked at the way he looked at Victoria. The way everyone was looking at her and the other actors and actresses. Have what she had. There must’ve been a thousand people in the audience, and every eye on her. Every pair of hands in the theater clapping. That kind of momentum, that kind of fulfilment, surely could overrun anything else. Any bad feeling at all.

The spell seemed to break at the play’s end. Paul wasn’t sure what to do when the rest of the audience began filing out. Luckily, an usher grabbed him once he started to get up.

“You’re with Victoria Medlin, right?”

“Yeah.”

“She said to take you backstage after.”

Paul nodded, following the usher. There was an eeriness to the stage, now that the play was over. It wasn’t just empty; it felt abandoned. Lonely as the Lord Stanley.

He’d thought backstage would be as raucous as the show itself. Instead, stripped of the show, everyone seemed diminished. Tired. They were wiping off their makeup and stepping behind curtains to get into their street clothes. Some were drinking and smoking, their conversations as indistinguishable as always when he was around a crowd. They weren’t wild at all now. Paul shifted awkwardly-- the usher had already abandoned him. Luckily, Victoria spotted him from the other side of the room.

“Paul! Hey!” 

She rushed up to him. She was already back in her outfit from that morning, bare-faced and smiling.

“How’d you like the show?”

“You were the best part.”

“You’re sweet.” She kissed his cheek. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She must have shown him to a dozen people. He kept raising his hand on automatic, apt to twine their fingers together, only to realize after about the third time that humans shook hands, rather than held them, when they introduced themselves. They grinned when they saw him. Treated him like a kindred spirit for the twenty or so seconds he met each one. Only one of the humans really stood out to him, a heavyset man with straight brown hair and a broad face.

“Paul, this is Meat Loaf.”

Paul stared in confusion. Mer sometimes had fanciful names-- the end result of usually being named after sunken vessels-- but he’d never heard of anyone, mer or human, named after food.

“Hi, Meat Loaf.”

“You can call me Meat,” he said, and laughed. He had an accent Paul had never heard before, too. “Got a last name there, man?”

“Uh--”

“Paul Stanley,” Victoria supplied. Paul threw her a grateful look. Meat Loaf nodded in assent.

“Where’re you from, Paul?”

“Queens,” he lied quickly. “Where are you from?”

“Texas. Can’t you tell?”

“No. Is that far?”

“Jesus, where’d you find this guy, Vick?” Meat Loaf laughed, elbowing her. “I thought all y’all New Yorkers were sophisticates. Listen, me and Oatis were getting a group together to get some dinner. You wanna come?”

“Not tonight,” Victoria said, wrapping up her arm in Paul’s. Paul felt suddenly grateful. Victoria was looking out for him. Not pushing him into anything too intimidating. The thought of eating with all those humans was far more frightening to him than getting a cab or navigating the subway, and he thought Victoria knew it. He would’ve given himself away, or humiliated Victoria. He’d have ruined it. “Maybe some other time. See you tomorrow.”

“Have fun.” Meat Loaf winked.

--

He had a million questions for her in the cab going back to her apartment.

“Do they all call you Vick? Is that what you wanna be--”

“Vick or Vicki, ever since I was a kid. But I like being Victoria to you.”

He nodded hesitantly.

“And in the show… the war, is that real? Are they really drafting men to fight? Even when they don’t want to go?”

“Yes.”

Oh. Mer had had wars, long ago, but their primary adversary had always been humans. Mating with them, encroaching on their territory with steamboats and submarines and deep-sea expeditions, polluting their oceans. Destroying their culture generation after generation with every landlock. He knew vague things about human wars, gleaned from sunken ships and a handful of stories, but nothing current or concrete.

“So they really do those protests, too?”

“All the time.” Victoria’s mouth was pinched tight. “Not just over Vietnam. Over everything. Everyone wants things to change.”

“Everything seemed so good here to me.” He swallowed. “I don’t understand what they want changed. You have… you have all these incredible things, but you want something else.”

Victoria’s expression softened, and she twined their fingers together, squeezing his hand tightly.

“You’re so sweet, Paul. You’ll understand sometime.”

“Don’t tell me that. That makes me seem like a kid.”

“No, no. You haven’t been around here long enough, that’s all. Just like I haven’t been around the ocean. Your part of it, at least.”

It was the first time she’d really admitted it. For a second, he wanted to ask about that photo. That little blonde girl, in a jumper and pigtails. Six years old in ’55. But a look at her face and the question died in his throat.

“It’s not the same,” he protested instead. “There’s not so much to learn about in the ocean at all. Life’s not so complicated.”

“Life’s always complicated,” Victoria said. The cab driver stopped by her apartment complex. “You make me greedy, Paulie. You want to spend the night again?”

He answered with a kiss.

[ofrockwood]

( alex wolff. twenty-three. he/him. ) i think i just saw LINCOLN ROCKWOOD ride by on a golf cart . at least i think it was them . after all , OUTSKIRTS OF PARADISE BY BAD SUNS was blasting on the transistor radio . maybe they were on their way to work , i hear they’re a BALL PERSON FOR THE GOLF COURSE . but they totally could have been on their way to GET HIGH IN THE PARKING LOT ON BREAK . guess we’ll never know . you’ll definitely know its them when you see DIRTY LAUNDRY ON AN UNMADE BED, TANGLED KNOTS OF HEADPHONES, AND CELL PHONES FALLING OUT OF POCKETS around the country club . let’s just hope they stay off the green after hours or else the sprinklers will get them !

BIOGRAPHY

it’s safe to say that lincoln had fallen victim to the classic case of middle child syndrome. his family ( mainly his aunts and uncles ) often mentioning that he was the forgotten child during his elementary days, passing it off as a joke at reunion barbecues — though even he remembered getting lost in department stores where a clerk had to call for his parents on the overhead so that they could “ come and collect their kid “.

growing up in middle class suburbia was, as link would put it, like a wet, hot american summer. there were more cul-de-sacs than soccer mom minivans and more starbucks on every corner than there were fake tanning salons at the mall. the normal “ avoid eye contact with everybody “ as he passed people on the street always pairing well with the quick turn of the heel whenever he noticed one of his mom’s friends walking toward him, never mind them waving hello.

he was frequently trusted with his own devices while his younger sister had dance and piano lessons, and his older brother had practice for whatever sport was in season. all because link’s lack of hand-eye coordination wound him up with a concussion and a broken nose the one time his parents thought it’d be a good idea to sign him up for soccer — in short, instead of picking up another extracurricular, link made his dent on the living room couch. getting lost in old VHS tapes and blueray DVDs.

his love for film and anything pop culture only escalated as he got older, resulting in him being the funny guy who quoted too many movie references in what would otherwise be a normal conversation. sarcasm and dry wit etching themselves onto his tongue, dramatizing his character. allowing him to finally stand out from the rest, despite the eye rolls and facepalms he’d usually receive once he opened his mouth.

link relied on his comedic timing, having been labeled the “ forgotten one “ or the “ guy lacking ambition “ for long enough. almost going out of his way to break out of the cookie cutter mold he grew up in, never shying away from explaining the toxicity of football fanatics to his uncles or bringing up liberal comments in otherwise conservative settings. twisting his phrases comically, albeit a little condescendingly.

not that he tried to be the smartest one in the room. but he did have the tendency to throw in his two cents, most likely when it wasn’t warranted.

soon he was off to college where he changed his major four times in his first semester, just going through the motions of a dorm filled life until he eventually stumbled upon his favorite subject : popular culture. thinking the major involved continuous reruns of the bachelor or seinfeld. but thankfully, his mind was blown much further than that.

he was pretty pretentious whenever asked about what he was studying, his high brow mainly stemmed from believing his major was the superior of all majors. however, if asked about what he was going to do with it once he graduated, he’d more often than not veer the conversation in another direction and offer another hit of his joint.

now that he was officially a graduate, he still didn’t know what the heck he wanted to do as a career. shutting his laptop down every time he so much as browsed for jobs for ten minutes straight. always holed up in his room, content with ignoring adult responsibilities as well as his parent’s interrogating questions: how are your savings looking ? did you hear about your brother’s promotion ? ever thought about taking your brother’s advice & applying for a position at the country club ?

and sure, link’s desperate for a way out. but at the same time, he’s comfortable at home and it’s not like he has the right friends to challenge his status quo. instead they let him settle and constantly get high, listening to link talk about moving out one day, but never actively holding him to that.

catch lincoln collecting golf balls out on the golf course or moseying about the country club avoiding his every day duties. he’s usually got tangled headphones in with a joint tucked between his lips — just don’t tell his mom or dad about the latter part though.

HEADCANONS.

he has a hard time with complete silence, so he’ll be the first to talk in order to keep the momentum alive. though some of his friends think it’s just because he likes hearing the sound of his voice — which one, rude, and two, he just doesn’t deal with uncomfortable situations very well.

let me to you, this boy drops everything. his phone, drinks, full plates of food. he was gifted with butterfingers and has yet to realize that he shouldn’t be responsible for other people’s possessions because more likely than not, he won’t return the thing the way he found it.

he’s like a vacuum. he inhales his food. when he visits family, his mother always reprimands since she thinks he’s not enjoying what’s put on his plate. in reality, though, he has the munchies and just needs to eat all the things.

he wasn’t the greatest student. in fact, sometimes he was plain lazy when it came to doing his homework. but he got good averages and got lucky on tests, so it’s enough to make potential employers happy. or so he hopes.

if you look at his family and you look at link, you’ll wonder if the guy was dropped on his head as a kid because he’s like a black sheep. totally different ideals, can’t catch a ball to save his life, and the last time he tried grilling meat on the grill, he almost burned the backyard down — he’s now only allowed to toss together a salad at family barbecues.

this boy, this child, drinks way too much coffee / energy drinks. which is why his knee is constantly bouncing when he’s seated or he’s always shifting his weight when he’s standing. seriously, someone get him to drink something that’s not bean water. and beer doesn’t count !

[nbapprentice]

You said a while back that while Supergiant games (Bastion, Transistor, Hades) was mostly okay, you had some words about them. I was curious as to what those words were, since Hades' full release is soon.

okay. alright. ive been playing hades lately so i definitely want to give my two cents (or dollars by the size this is gonna get). but let’s go Step by Step

the good: i want to throw a whole Endorsement over supergiant games with the art direction and its characters, which is what keeps me coming back again and again, and what i can assume is that most people are attracted to. 

gameplaywise, they have a Format they stick to which has become their staple, not to their detriment but to their advantage, like... gameplay tropes, so to speak, that they stick to (such as the addition of special conditions that give a disadvantage in exchange for more long-term rewards)

i fucking adore that they take one concept per game, go for it, and when they’re done they are Done; they don’t bother with sequels, they don’t want to run things to the ground and i fucking respect that. They have their themes, and they stick to them (to various degrees of success).

that said, like every piece of media, they are not perfect and this has to be analysed and spoken about

CONTENT WARNINGS: genocide and ethnic cleansing, antisemitism, misogyny, homophobia, suicide, and mentions of incest, and a general Spoilers warning

bastion: touches on ethnic cleansing, and not in a way i’d say is satisfactory. our narrator and one of our Sympathetic characters is one of the men who worked on a world-ending weapon meant to use against the Ura (a group of people coded as East Asian) which after a bit of googling is literally called “the final solution” if there was ever a war between the Ura and the Cael (who feel like rly tan white people to me). jesus fucking CHRIST.

we also meet more Ura other than our two named characters and we have to kill most of them. so that fucking blows.

the game tries for “being a genocidal monster will get you fucked up and blown up” which duh, but i feel we shouldn’t have had a person responsible for war crimes be one of our friends no matter how bad he feels about the whole thing, or the people victim of war crimes become villains in the latter half of the game. zia’s father could’ve taken ruck’s role ez pz.

transistor: the weakest of their games, imo; the lore and writing are fairly flimsy and i did not come out feeling Satisfied, especially because it had this rly good build-up that did not pay off. not to mention... their villains? 3/4 were gay people. lol. two married guys (not even explicit, you only realize by their shared last names) and the ps*cho lesbian trope (iirc she wanted to kill the protagonist’s lover or something). the female protagonist also ends up killing herself to live forever in a digital paradise with her dead lover. it’s. god. 

very Aesthetic, GORGEOUS music, interesting gameplay; had potential, i do not feel like it lived up to it at least as far as the story goes.

pyre: now this one. this one’s BEEFY. where transistor felt flimsy, pyre is rich; lots to sink your teeth into, rich in lore and loveable characters, again w the beautiful music, themes of cooperation and togetherness. my favorite of the cast is volfred sandalwood, the only Black (or, well, Black-coded) revolutionary i’ve ever seen portrayed with this amount of sympathy.

onto the bad: they literally have a Class of character named “Savage”; there’s the “mystical mentally ill person” trope; there is an overwhelming amount of explicit m/f pairs (one of them being. a romance that formed in a single day and then both of the characters were somehow willing to risk it all for each other? PLEASE) while the only hints of gayness are... hints. especially when Jodariel (another of my favs) is teased to have feelings for the player regardless of gender then only gets an ending with a male character with whom she has nothing in common 🙃

hades: and now. this one. music: gorgeous. character designs: spectacular (aphrodite is straight up naked but it’s so... natural and casual, it doesn’t feel sexualized at all). voice acting amazing. character interactions charming and endearing. as a greek mythology nerd, it was nice to see them go for the obscure shit like Zagreus at all, NOT portray Persephone and Hades as a loving couple, AND portrayed the gods as the bunch of petty assholes (some more benevolent than others) that they are. imo they’re too generous with their portrayal of achilles but i’ll allow it.

and finally... it seems all those criticisms about having all the gay characters hidden in the shadows paid off, cuz we got (aside of patroclus and achilles) a bisexual polyamorous protag. Holy Shit! and it’s not even playersexual, romance whomever you want shit without the routes recognizing each other: he explicitly talks about how he’s thinking abt them both (though it’s like “yeah usually mortals take one lover but gods love many huh” polyamory is a human thing too bro!!!!!)

and this is where it all goes, well, at least vaguely downhill lol. ok so the incest warning i gave up there? well. it’s not... outright incestuous. but it has some ugly implications. i want to emphasize: the characters never refer to each other as siblings, nor do they treat each other as such (thanatos, in fact, only recognizes hypnos as his brother, and megaera only sees the other furies as her sisters), but they were all raised by the same woman, Nyx... zagreus and thanatos even grew up together (im assuming megaera didnt meet zagreus until he was fully grown).

this is complicated even worse by the fact that they tried to trick zagreus into believing Nyx was his mother. he realized pretty early on this was not true but like... adoptive mothers, anyone? granted i can believe that bc of the attempt at deception that probably ruptured any attempt at actual familial closeness, and it’s not like hypnos and thanatos saw zagreus as their brother at any point, so they were p much aware of the truth too. with the fact that thanatos even looks like goth miles edgeworth (im not kidding you can google him up right now its literally edgeworth in a cowl) i rly feel they were aiming for Childhood Friend Anime Rival Man than the “surprise kiss bc ur not actually related <3″ shit. zagreus never once refers to nyx as his mother in-game, and also refers to thanatos and hypnos as her sons, never his brothers.

so yeah, like. if one’s feeling generous, zagreus and thanatos are more of a “my father is emotionally closed off and neglects me so my best friend’s mother basically raised me” kind of situation... just pulled off in, perhaps, the worst way possible (why didnt they just say Zagreus was told Hekate was his mom, that’s such an easy fix? or that he was born of nobody other than Hades??? [gestures at athena])

but then, the gods. aaaaaaaahhhhahahahh the gods. demeter shows up! and she calls zeus, hades and poseidon... her foster-brothers. which somehow would make the persephone thing less fucking awful, apparently. they really. really really did not need to do that. she could’ve just said “my fellow gods” or whatever. or my “god-brothers” or something, to pretend it was just a weird god alliance thing??? i dont know but implying that foster family isn’t family is just... bro, the dynamics still exist.

Don’t Like That.

i even contacted supergiant games over this. they reassured me they were even trying to avoid the incest of the original myths bc they didn’t want to mess with such a heavy theme. i believe them... but i really think they didn’t think this through. compared to something like fire emblem fates this is nearly benign, but the implications don’t look good :/

tl;dr of the tl;drs: i admire their artistic philosophy and the heavy emphasis on fresh gameplay, characters and their relationships; i appreciate that it seems that they listen to criticism?; i don’t appreciate that they didn’t think to at LEAST talk to adoptees when making a game about family.

[stevecanmakeanythingnerdy]

Battle #23

Gaunt: Kryptonite ( Side Gene )

Vs.

The Wipers: Youth of America ( Side One )

Gaunt: Kryptonite ( Side Gene )

Gaunt was a pop punk band formed in Columbus, Ohio, in 1991. The band released five albums and a crap ton of singles before splitting in 1998. Actually 5 albums is a bit of a stretch. Sob Story is really more of an extended EP and clocks in Around 20 minutes, but anyway... yeah the 90s Ohio scene was pretty rock and punk and roll. But at the top of that list was New Bomb Turks and these guys. Really almost compliments to each other. NBT was down and dirty, and Gaunt filled in for the poppier and peppier parts. In fact in the earliest days, they shared members with NBT, but it was short lived. They bounced around a few independent labels and one last album was recorded for Thrill Jockey, entitled Kryptonite, and released in 1996. Kryptonite was released with a metallic lime green cover and contained lyrics about Superman, Lois Lane, and lost love. Over the course of the next year, the band began to drift apart, with Wick recording solo material. The band managed to scrape together one more album for record giant Warner Bros when they came sniffing around after Green Day had made it evident that punk rock sells, but they broke up soon after due to little to no support of it. So in the grand scheme of things, their time was brief, but powerful. And in true punk rock fashion, I don’t think the band really gave a crap about any of it. They just played music and had fun. Unfortunately in 2001, lead singer Jerry Wick was hit and killed by a car while bicycling home. It’s sad too, because he was a great songwriter. “Kryptonite” is the lead tune of course. Blast off into the rock and roll Metropolis of garage punk rock and roll. The very thing that made this band cool is that they weren’t afraid to try different things. This one features piano. “Savior Breath” is not only a great pun but another great song as well. That catchy 3 chord stuff lo-fi blast off! Hell yeah! Certainly not gaunt on the rock (#seewhatididthere). “Hope You’re Happy “ is about as punk rock as you can expect to get. This is what it would sound like if NBT did less yelling and sang more harmonies. Horns and $#!t on this number, again utilizing some new tricks with the old. Not immune to the catchy AF pop punk vibe that Green Day had a stranglehold on in the mid 90s comes “Transistor Sister”. It’s a no brainer but a head banger too. There’s even a video for it! “Bust” follows with the breakneck speedy Gonzalez “bust you in your head!” It’s perfectly placed pauses and fuzzed out guitar will leave you wanting more. The last fast track is “Hand in Pants”. Gaunt never lets up and the backing harmonies prevail. This band had something special. They were a band you could respect. Quick, catchy and no frills. Serious but fun all at once. Hook laden and made to order madness. This and Bricks and Blackouts may be one of their most experimental albums. It’s damn good though. R. I. P. Gaunt. Oh! And Of course there’s a “side Gene”. You have to get a Kiss reference in. (The other side is Paul, duh)

The Wipers: Youth of America ( Side One )

Technically just Wipers, but “The” is often attached. Wipers was a punk rock band formed in Portland, Oregon in 1977 by guitarist Greg Sage, along with drummer Sam Henry and bassist Dave Koupal. The group's tight song structure and use of heavy distortion were hailed as extremely influential by numerous critics and musicians. The band is considered the first Pacific Northwest punk band. Possibly most famous for being both influential to and covered by Nirvana. Greg was interested in music at an early age and has a rather unique perspective on music. His father worked in the broadcast industry so he had access at an early age to a record lathe. He would often study music under the microscope and loved the way it was produced from the record. This gave him a very deep understanding of the way the sound was reproduced. That and Hendrix inspired him to pick up a guitar and the rest is history. Originally they formed just as a recording project. The plan was to record 15 albums in 10 years without touring or promotion. Sage thought that the mystique built from the lack of playing traditional rock 'n' roll would make people listen to their recordings much deeper with only their imagination to go by. He thought it would be easy to avoid press, shows, pictures and interviews. He looked at music as art rather than entertainment; he thought music was personal to the listener rather than a commodity. He is not wrong, but soon shows and touring did happen. Sage has been quoted and remarked on their initial reception: "We weren't even really a punk band. See, we were even farther out in left field than the punk movement because we didn't even wish to be classified, and that was kind of a new territory. ... When we put out Is This Real? ... it definitely did not fit in; none of our records did. Then nine, ten years later people are saying: 'Yeah, it's the punk classic of the '80s'". So this is their second album, and it’s a reaction to the quick short burst of songs all the punk bands were doing in the early 80s. In fact the title track is nearly 10 minutes long! But that’s on the other side. This side contains “Taking too Long” which has highly advanced guitar for a 2nd LP. It’s a serene and peaceful song. Not the BEST Wipers song but still pleasing. “Can This Be” is more the rocking style Wipers fans are used to. Punk elements but wrapped in rock with those fuzz crunch guitars the6 helped stylize. Like a grunge burrito! The dropout bridge and energy are worth the listen alone. For me, the best tune on this side has got to be “Pushing The Extreme”. The Wipers are good at that “haunted melody” sound. You know, kind of creepy sounding but low frequency and underscored by punching bass lines. Accentuated really. I also like the weird phrasing of the word Extreme, it’s partly why Wipers stand out so much. A very loooooooong song though. “When it’s Over” sees Sage showcasing his guitar prowess. Very surfy (another signature of the Wipers sound) and with all of the builds it’s a pretty great piece. Some spoken word but it’s essentially instrumental. These early records have a great cohesion and consistency in their cyclical riffs. Not bad for one of the Northwest’s most influential acts and precursors to the “Seattle sound”.

So it was a real epic battle today of old vs new punk. Well, I guess they’re both old. More like old vs really old? Anyway. Gaunt had a secret weapon on hand, Kryptonite...but will it weaken The Wipers? Gaunt burned 99 calories over 15 minutes and 6 songs. They averaged 16.50 calories burned per song and 6.60 calories burned per minute. They earned 15 out of 18 possible stars. The Wipers tried to engage the youth of America. The Wipers burned 105 calories over 4 songs and 16 minutes. They averaged 26.25 calories burned per song and 6.56 calories burned per minute. They earned 10 out of 12 possible stars. Looks like Gaunt’s Kryptonite worked! They walk away champs today!

Gaunt: “Transistor Sister” (sorry for the piss poor quality but it was the 90s)

https://youtu.be/T7GTSYz1Bmw

#Randomrecordworkoutseasonseven

#Randomrecordworkout

[pinkafropuff]

tag bc im procrastinating but also getting along well with my writing and wanted to reward myself by @2-dream who said i can use the “shuffle your songs and put 10 on a list” and imma say something about them maybe. yes.

1. Out Of Control- Nothing’s Carved In Stone

CUZ I FEEEEEEEEEEEL-

I CAN ALWAYS SHOW MY EVERYTHING TO YOUUUUU

anyway if you watched psycho pass you know where i heard this song first. FUCK this song. it makes me think of kogami. also spotify just has the fucking live version which is...okay but. goddamn. i dont wanna hear crowds man! anyway it’s been like. 6 years? it hits. it still hits.

2. Lose Control - Missy Elliot, Ciara

middle school. why. why is it stil so good? why do i STILL want to pop my booty to this song even though I can’t dance (though i can keep a beat)? 

the world may never know.

3. TRIGGER- lynch., J

idk man i love visual kei and this caught me on the tail end of me being really into it. also i STILL think guitars are the shit. i kind of think I always will. sucks that I couldn’t stick with learning BUT i love my saxophone xoxoxo

4. Emotion -Lovelyz

I don’t remember why i liked this song.

5. Five- Omoi

no this is not a mistake. coincidence tho. anyway it sounds like miku hatsune and im like. anime opening vibes. why don’t i have this on any playlists? hm. maybe my sister was right and i have too many freaking songs.

6. FOOL (Fight of Our Lives)- Sir Reg

I found this one looking for Irish made/Irish songs for Mamoru (my dalish inquisitor)’s playlist. and frankly. i really like it, but i have to be in a mood to listen to it. it sounds a little like a bar brawl and i love it. actually it reminds me of when a friend suggested a band to me when i told her about the bands i did like. and like. i had to politely say “no thanks” because i’d listened to them and didn’t really like them for the character (or myself).

7. CATCH ME- THE ORAL CIGARETTES

B*TCH THIS IS MY SONG HOLD UP

anyway i have many daydreams for my edgy characters with this one. especially the use of “akuma” and the phrase i think is “the devil chasing me” and im like “mm. yes. perfect.”

8. Once Upon a Time- Toby Fox

it’s undertale. actually I forgot it was on here but i got a little sentimental hearing it.

9. Forecast - Darren Korb

this is from the Transistor soundtrack, which, btw, is not a game I played, but watched played. the music kinda hits and frankly I was pretty enamored with the soundtrack for a while after I saw the ending, and I’m still not sure if I would want to buy and play the game myself. It was pretty good but not my style. Usually, that’s why I watch game playthroughs; there are only so many things I can put up with playing, even if the story is excellent.

10. Hello Bubble - Girl’s Day

I found Girl’s Day because of a drama that I Dropped with a capital D because the guy was doing terrible tropes towards the main girl, who was, if I recall, MinAh from the group. I might have to look. I recall thinking she was very pretty. I could be wrong, but it was one girl in Girl’s Day. The drama made her look like. Average looking and she was losing her hair from stress so I was like, “this guy literally manipulating her into feeling sorry for him for something HE did to HER is disgusting. end.” 

also their song Macaron is my favorite.

i’m not tagging anyone, i told you i was procrastinating <3

[girlslikeguyswhosmoke]

The Story Behind the Memes

I recently posted a meme featuring a father and son having a smoke together, and how I remember a time when the first time a boy lights up in front of his parents is a traditional rite of passage. I posted another shortly before that, in which a 12-year-old lights up for the first time and later becomes an adult smoker worthy of acceptance and respect from a significant other who chooses to be with said smoker.

There is actually a true story behind both memes that I wanted to share.

Our family had Texas roots and we ended up in Southern New Mexico. Deeply religious, my parents instilled southern Baptist values and in many ways, we were like a family straight out of the 50s: Dad worked in the oil business, Mom stayed at home and took care of me and my brother. And then as soon as I grew boobs, I became a babysitter to a brat. Dad smoked at least two packs a day. Back then, you could smoke in restaurants, at work, pretty much anywhere you wanted. Mom never touched a cigarette in her life. And that passed down to me. We went to church every Sunday morning and Wednesday evening. And traditional roles were forced upon us. Though I am no longer a church-goer (I remain a loose believer), those old tapes still play in my head and I still tend to live by that script I was raised with.

I have always kind of had a love-hate relationship with my brother. I mean, he’s my little brother. I love him dearly, and always have. But let’s just say I was the product of the whiskey bottle on a Saturday night that later forced my parents to get married. Jesse (not his real name) was the planned child. Knowing this has always caused me some level of resentment.

Our family went on a summer camping trip when I was 17. It was the summer before my senior year and my dad took the family to our favorite spot in the mountains. Mom and Dad assumed it would be one of the last times we would be able to do this as a complete family.

I didn’t even really want to go. I wanted to spend the weekend at home, by myself, for some peace and quiet while Mom, Dad, and Jesse went off to the lake. But Mom insisted and I gave in.

And things went just as I figured they would. Dad took Jesse fishing on the lake, while me and Mom sat at the campsite, reading books and listening to what is today considered “classic country” on a transistor radio. Conway Twitty, God rest your soul. I would have had a more enjoyable time in the triple digit heat in Roswell. At least there, I could go to Sonic and have ice cream with my girlfriends. But I digress.

Dad and Jesse came back with an ice chest full of fish. That would be dinner that evening. I decided to help the two of them clean fish. I’m a country girl. I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty. We ate dinner shortly after that, and then it was time to start the campfire. Dad wanted to take Jesse for a hike, but Jesse insisted that he go alone. This caused a little bit of a squabble, as Mom thought it would get too dark for a 12-year-old to be wandering around the woods by himself. I offered to take Jesse to go find fire wood. That settled the argument.

So Jesse and I set out into the woods in search of fire wood. I picked out a few pieces that I thought would be good for the fire, but Jesse insisted they were too wet. After a short disagreement, I deferred to the Boy Scout and we continued through the woods.

Suddenly, he stopped and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a crushed Marlboro pack with a single cigarette inside. I assumed he stole it from Dad.

I was shocked, but then I wasn’t.

“Jesse,” I sighed. “We’re smoking now?”

He looked back at me with that defiant brat face I was so used to as he put the half-crushed Marlboro Red to his lips.

“What?” he said. “Most of your friends smoke, what’s the big fucking deal?”

I wasn’t going to argue.

“Fine,” I said. “Just finish that before Mom and Dad smell it on you.”

I watched my 12-year-old brother light up and take that first puff. I will confess that, despite my affection for guys who smoke, I was in no way amused. I figured he would inevitably end up as a smoker, just like the majority of the guys I hung with. And of course, they all started around 12 or 13, some even younger. But this was my little brother. The kid I was responsible for. I was not happy in the least.

The sun had set by now and it was growing darker. Jesse continued to smoke his cigarette. I asked him if that was his first. He said no, but that it was his first pack. He said he went to the local Allsup’s to buy it. He made me promise him that I wouldn’t tell Mom and Dad, or tell anyone where he got it. It was still technically illegal to sell cigarettes to minors, but nobody really got in trouble unless some angry parent went and complained.

We heard footsteps and a moment later, there was Dad staring right at us.

Jesse was busted.

Dad, himself holding a cigarette, told Jesse to put that thing out and get back to the campsite immediately.

There were no more words said. Mom, Dad, Jesse, and I packed up camp and went home. That was the perfect end to our family weekend.

When we got home, Jesse got the whooping of his life. My parents never spared the rod. When we got in trouble, we got what was coming to us. It didn’t matter that Dad smoked. There was no way his 12-year-old son was going to take up the habit in his presence.

As you can imagine, that was the beginning of my brother’s smoking habit, not in any way the end of it. Jesse smoked at school with his friends. Mom and Dad came to accept this, even if not formally. But there were rules laid down: no smoking anywhere around them, no smoking in the house, and he had to support his own habit. It was kind of a “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” thing. Dad knew he couldn’t ground Jesse for having the same addiction he had. But being the responsible parent, he wasn’t going to support and sanction underage smoking either. It worked, because Jesse never felt comfortable smoking in front of Mom and Dad anyway.

Eventually, the Allsup’s that sold him that first pack began cracking down. Being underage, he found it more difficult to find a store that would sell him cigarettes. And that’s where his big sister came in. Yours, truly.

Jesse’s 18th birthday happened the day he got accepted into military school. Over dinner, Mom, Dad, and Grandma all doted over Jesse and how proud they were of him. That didn’t extend to their 23-year-old daughter who still lived at home, but never mind that. He had aspirations to join the Air Force and he was on the fast track to being the family golden boy.

We cleaned up after dinner and Dad turned to Jesse and said the unthinkable:

“Jesse, let’s go out and have a smoke.”

Mom and Grandma had no reaction, as I’m sure they saw this day coming. But Jesse and I were both shocked and blown away.

Dad pulled two cigarettes out of his pack. He put one to his mouth and offered the other to Jesse.

“Are you coming?” Dad pressed.

Jesse took the cigarette from Dad and the two went out to the front porch. Being the smoke fetisher that I am, I wanted to witness this moment from the window of the living room. But I wanted to do so in a way that I couldn’t be noticed. I watched through the thin white curtain.

I watched as Dad lit up and then handed Jesse his lighter. Jesse wasted no time lighting up right in front of Dad, as if Dad was just another high school buddy. Jesse then handed Dad his lighter back. The two talked as they smoke exhaled from their mouths. I heard things mentioned about being a man, raising a family, moving away from home.

My brother was taking puffs from his cigarette and exhaling right in our dad’s face. Dad puffed and exhaled in Jesse’s direction. This was an amazing father-son bonding moment.  After a few minutes of watching them smoke together, Dad finished his cigarette and I knew Jesse wasn’t far behind. I grabbed my book, sat down on the sofa, and pretended I didn’t see anything.

Moments later, Dad and Jesse came through the front door, both reeking of cigarette smoke.

Jesse went to military school, but never enlisted in the Air Force. Instead, he ended up working the oil fields, just like his old man. It’s been 20 years and he’s still a smoker.

Recently, he dated a woman who highly encouraged him to quit, saying she wants to someday marry a man she can grow old with. He brought her to dinner last Christmas and I really did like her. 

And Jesse did make an honest attempt to quit, using vaping as a substitute. But smoking is an addiction, one he has had since age 12. And the truth is he much prefers it analog. He tried to make his girlfriend understand that, but they ended up going their separate ways. The smoking was one of several reasons, to be fair.

I don’t live at home anymore, and I’ve yet to find that man who reminds me of my daddy. A man who comes home with the smell of sweat and smoke that lingers as he sits down to dinner. The man who needs one as soon as he’s finished eating, when we’re cuddling and watching TV, and when we’re in the bedroom. A guy who lights up first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Couple all that with a man with good morals and old-fashioned values, who knows how to treat a woman, and who will make a good role model for his son. It’s a hard thing to find these days.

[featheredfurther]

starlight

They sit in silence.

Reyes works. Jean doesn’t stop him-cannot stop him. For so long as Kadara’s heart beats, and life pulses from the port, Reyes is never done. He is the captain of this wayward ship-Kadara, sailing on the endless sea of time.

Jean sits. He does…nothing. His feet are propped up on the coffee table. He thrums a melody on his stomach, using the rhythm of his breathing as a metronome. Idleness usually makes him agitated. He needs to move; pace around the room as he concocts intricate plans and projects.

Reyes usually listens, always does. He’ll even listen to Jean talk nonsense.

Today, Jean has nothing.

And perhaps…he likes it-revels in it, having nothing. His mind rests, and he focuses on the small details. Like the lights in Reyes’ room are tinted pink or that Tartarus is surprisingly empty in the afternoon.

A data pad drops by his feet. Reyes stands in front of him.

“You seem bored,” he says.

“I am,” Jean agrees. “I like it.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Jean Ryder?”

Jean laughs. He stands up, and snakes an arm behind Reyes’ hips. Jean pulls him close. “I’ll give you a hint.”

He leans down and captures Reyes’ lips. They taste sweet from the whiskey he had earlier, and distinctively Reyes which has Jean coming back for more. Reyes scrunches the back of Jean’s hoodie. He hums.

“Hmm…I’m convinced,” Reyes says when they part. Always flushed and breathless, like Jean has sucked the life out of him after every kiss.

Maybe he has, and that’s why he feels so full, so lively when Reyes is around. And he makes Jean do impossible things like revel in nothingness.

“I have an idea,” Reyes opens his Omni-tool. He scrolls through a list of songs, most are unfamiliar to Jean.

Moonlight Serenade is where Reyes stops. He selects it. A slow tune comes from the speakers. A waltz maybe? Or a ballad, Jean has no idea. But one thing he’s certain is what Reyes intends by the way Reyes looks at him.

“I thought I told you I don’t dance,” Jean says.

“You told me a lot of things,” Reyes counters, “some of which turned out to be untrue.”

“Like?”

“I hate you.”

“Fair enough,” Jean says simply, and lists it as one of the impossible things Reyes makes him do.

It’s the best thing Reyes has made Jean done. Love him. The galaxy is brighter with Reyes in Jean’s life. It makes him forget that this galaxy made him an orphan, or this galaxy made him watch his sister die.

Or the Archon, always the Archon.

“I still don’t dance,” Jean says again.

Reyes bows. He offers his hand. “Try me.”

Jean accepts, and Reyes spins him around, catching him by the hip. They sway, or Reyes attempts to make him sway, follow the rhythm of the tune with his feet.  

He fails. Their movements are awkward. Jean is almost a head taller than Reyes, he should be the one leading.

Except Jean has one undeniable fact about him which is obvious now if Reyes ever wants him to try again.

Jean cannot dance.

He knows how electrons travel inside a transistor, can say Asimov’s laws of robotics  like a prayer but dancing is never him.

To salvage what little romance remains in their dance, Reyes wraps himself around Jean. He sways them. They are close, too close. Jean feels the steady beat of Reyes’ heart on his own, as if theirs are connected by a red thread.

It’s making love without the making, but Jean doesn’t need to be gasping at the sheets, begging Reyes for more to make. They simply do.

The song stops. Reyes replaces it with a melody in Spanish. He pretends Jean cannot understand a single word. More romantic that way, he once told Jean. Jean thinks it’s less, more if they can speak love in a language aside from English.

They can communicate love in four different languages, five if they count love as its own universal language. Jean wants them to communicate in six, wants Reyes to know how ibig and mahal are stronger than love or amo.

In another time, Reyes will sing it to him too, under a canopy of constellations. They are the audience to their performance, glittering in the night sky while Jean looks over a window.

It’ll be just like the old vids.

In another time, they may not be together. An ocean divides them both, and so do the ills of their lands.

Reyes stops humming. He brings their lips together, deeper this time-hungrier. He leads Jean to the sofa, not once leaving his lips.

When they tumble on the sofa, Reyes removes his shirt. He pauses and allows Jean to marvel at the curves of his body. It’s not perfect, not the chiseled, muscular torsos Jean sees in those extranet sites.

He’s beautiful, Jean thinks, always. He leaves Jean desperate and wanting; always like their first and not their fifteenth.

Reyes dives back to his lips. He pulls, bites, tugs until Jean is gasping for air. Reyes gives, he always does.

“Don’t you have work to do,” Jean says in-between.

“I do,” he growls. The sound sends a shockwave through Jean’s body.

“Then?”

“Then…” Reyes crawls back and straddles his hips. Desperate fingers work on removing Jean’s pants. With one swift motion, Reyes shucks them off, dropping them on the floor.

Jean shivers. The coolness of the room trails goosebumps on his skin. In contrast, Reyes’ fingers are like hot metal, trailing a fire from his stomach to his arousal. He whimpers, and bucks his hips when Reyes hooks a finger underneath his waistband.

“Consider this distraction,” Reyes says as he drags Jean’s underwear down.

He gives Jean something to think about.

[boopdaspook]

I’ve been tagged by the lovely @a-cup-of-kencoco to do this top 10 bands with a few questions and ow how it hurt to choose just ten but here we go!

I’ve come to notice that my taste in music is still stuck in the category of the gateway bands to genres or so I’ve deprived my interests as. Sadly and ironically Ghost is docked off the list even though me, like many others the band has positively impacted me a lot. Unless you are interested in some of these questions in regards to the spooky band just send an ask! Alright, the top 10 bands..

Slipknot

Blue Oyster Cult

Marilyn Manson

Sum41

System of a Down

Korn

IAMX

Kavinsky

Linkin Park

Modest Mouse

1. First song you’ve ever heard by 6?

Usually thats the one song that I actually know by its name is the one I've heard first, and that has to be Twisted Transistor, literally because I would childishly refer myself as the 'twisted little sister'. euGHHH

2. Favourite song by 8?

after me squinting at 3 other songs, It'll have to be Rampage. Yes it's because of the nostalgia with the Cell Saga from Dragon Ball Z, but I have to say it double whammys up the original theme to something else more suspensful and spooky which is a load of tasty toast in my loaf.

3. What kind of an impact has 1 left on your life?

Wahhh, it gets my heart all warm when I get to talk a bit deeper that the surface about bands. To begin with Slipknot helped in bringing my brother and I closer as siblings (he got me into most of the bands I know and still love today). I used to be horrible in being the little sister but Slipknot helped in keeping the communication, as a repayment I'm still wanting to take him to their last tour for the ultimate bonding ehehe. Their music is also a gateway to certain feelings, their imagery is beautiful in my eyes and in all inspires my work (congrats clown you done did it - its a  r t). I don't really know what else to say but that I did cry at the news of Paul and still am bittersweet but happy that Joey is going and flowing about. Uhh but all in all its a positive impact lmao

4. Favourite lyrics by 5?

" Aerials in the sky When you lose small mind you free your life Aerials so up high when you free your eyes Eternal Prize "

A lot of their songs are pretty amazing and pretty random I mean i personally fucking love Chic 'N' Stu lyric wise too hA- gives lot to think about but personally, these give an etherial food for thought.

5. How many times have you seen 4 life?

Ahhh, 0 times but that will soon change next month!!

6. Favourite song by 7?

I love the whole Unified Field album but the one one song is Quiet The Mind. This song is literally a cold hug of consolidation for me.

7. Any songs by 3 that make you cry?

Disassociative two other songs from the same album (Mechanical Animals) let the rivers flow; The Last Day on Earth and Coma White. lmAO make it the whole album if times are rough

8. Favourite song by 9?

I honestly thought this song was edited by a youtuber but it's from their actual album Reanimation; Krwling. The violin and the staticness.

9. When did you first get into 2?

I used to listen repeatedly to Don't Fear the Reaper, but after I discovered Ghost I found a sound relation between then both. I said fuck it and started to thoroughly listen to BOC. AY Tobasco please cover After Dark or Don't Fear the Reaper please.

10. How did you get into 10?

Guitar Hero World Tour. I mean, at some point it's true; we all float on.

Holy crap I never really realized how much of an emotional being I am until filling this out. I hope you all enjoyed this blab. Again thank you @a-cup-of-kencoco for tagging me!! In my part I will always be delighted to do these. This is an open inviation for everyone and anyone to do but I will tag the lovely individuals @guatemalaninsanitypepper @ghoulofmist @my-addictions @mama-emeritusiv @livandlearn

[kookiemuze]

Video game meme!

@scatteringmyashes tagged me knowing full well I haven’t finished many video games in my life /side eyes/, but here it goes. The following are my top 4 video games that have impacted my life / left big impressions on me / that I think y’all should check out if you can! See below for cute pics and more <3  

1. Kirby and the Amazing Mirror 

Y’all, I can’t even begin to describe the amount of childhood nostalgia I’m feeling just from this gif. Arguably the first video game I ever completed, this game for the Game Boy Advance was my constant companion. Cute little ball of a fighter? Check. Dark and mysterious forces that needed stopping? Yes. Ridiculous amounts of different abilities you could choose from? Mmmhmm. Option to call in your colorful cohort of friends and have cute victory dances with them? Check+. Magic mirrors???? Yup. I unfortunately lost this game in a move when my sister misplaced my Game Boy and it was never seen again :( But one of my dreams is to play it again on a Navy blue Game Boy once more <3 

2. Harvest Moon: Magical Melody

Nostalgia train again, sorry not sorry. You’re the cute new rancher in a cute small town just trying to get by and... save the Harvest Goddess??? That’s right! Like most Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons games you’re balancing farm life, sleep, socializing, romance, and saving the Harvest Goddess with music notes you get through achievements. My longest friend introduced me in 6th grade (thanks Charissa!!!) and even helped be get a game cube to have my own copy! We would help each other plan out our work days and weddings on our respective memory cards for good wholesome fun <3 Very straight (unfortunate for my queer fam), but funnily enough the rival, Jamie, is androgynous most of the time and will “switch gender” based on the PC, which only really shows if you marry them. (P.S. Marry Dan the “learning to improve himself what a cutey” Pirate, ilovehim). 

3. Transistor

I cannot begin to describe how beautiful this game is. Art Deco meets posh cyber dystopia in this world filled with robots out to kill you, a gorgeous singer without a voice taking on a terrorist organization. Did I mention your weapon and narrator are the downloaded conscious of the boyfriend who saved you? Your voice and him get tied up in an assassination plot on you, leading to your wielding of a strange weapon -- the Transistor. I love the voice lines, the plot, the art, THE MUSIC is INCREDIBLE please listen to it as you play, the strategy mixed with time freezing capabilities, and option to mix fighting styles based on... well you’ll see. It’s just a gorgeous game and I fell in love with this couple and their sudden struggle so hard. Here’s another image to show my love:

ANYWAYS

4. Dragon Age II

Look, Isabella was like half the gifs that showed up for this game it’s not my fault... I also have a thing for pirates? Maybe it’s the rough, sea breeze tousled, golden ensemble. Dragon Age as a series is just so good. I love fantasy, and RPGs, and playing mages. AND ROMANCE. wow. Though we have differing opinions on the world and its politics, @scatteringmyashes is the one that introduced me to this game and the DA series in consequence. Though I may be terrible at decision based games, I do love this one a lot. Everyone is kind of a disaster (witty NPCS and yourself) and there aren’t a lot of solvable problems, but as the Champion of Kirkwall you take the city by storm anyways. If you like dialogue options, shopping, fighting, political intrigue, party banter and quite the diverse / talented fandom definitely play this game. I myself am hoping to one day play origins and inquisition, too! (Who knows, maybe another will ride me into the sunset.)

I’m tagging... uhhh... @koragg1 @lixyjoy @zirobo and @gakarian sorry i don’t make the rules. 

[legend-waitforit-harry]

Blame this on @hestylesno as she’s the one who sent me this pic from which this concept slew and then this… yeah. Also totally her fault for encouraging me further into it. So here you have it!

Featuring alien!Harry, scientist!Ed and a girl torn between her protective brother and a really beautiful stranger.

  Harry has always been curious. Always taking the less traveled path, always peeking inside the haunted house, always eating that one thing his mother asked him not to. He wasn’t a rebel. No, Harry didn’t like to be called so. He was just curious, at times too curious for his own good. And that was everyone’s main concern when like all his other brothers and sisters he was to join the survey ship and take rounds of the neighborhood. Coming of age, it was a ritual for everyone on their planet to know their surroundings, which extended all through the Milky Way. He as a child, as a very very curious child, loved to know about his neighbors. Especially the ones from whom he got his name.

It is an interesting story, because it wasn’t supposed to happen, like most of the things that happened to Harry. He, like all the other children, learned to run before speaking. And running he was when he ended up in the radio centre. To his luck, the chamber was unguarded making our little mop of curls smile bright. With a keen interest in the galaxy, this opportunity was no less than any treat his mother could ever give him. And so he gladly took it. When the men in duty came back they found two stray messages aired in the vacuum of Space and a kid listening into the receiver intently. Now as much as it is a joy to see a child of his age sit so calm and quiet, it is never a good thing to intimate others out there of their presence without thorough research and a number of meetings of the Supremes. So the terror of the scene struck the men immediately as they tried to erase the stray messages and pull the kid off the receiver. But they realized it’s too late when there was a sweet voice coming through it calling for “Harry, Harry! Is that you?” And the little mop of curls bobbed in rhythm with a wide smile as he chanted, “Ha-ry, ha-ry”, his first words.

Those stray messages were never recovered and at last were left at the mercy of the Divine Star. The radio waves he caught on were traced to be from the blue planet, the noisiest planet with the most restless creatures, though nobody dared to reach out for it again. The whole incident became a matter of existential crisis as they hoarded in the craters waiting for the extra terrestrial beings to come invading their mother planet like one of them other ones who totally mistook their hospitality for submission. Thank the stars they were half their size. But this time they had someone else to blame and everyone was furious with this little boy who couldn’t hold on to his curiosity and has to go on endangering everyone’s life. Some said that if the aliens come they’ll trade him for their lives while others just wanted to throw him into the oblivion of Space already. But all he did was sit on his mother’s lap as he kept on chanting his new favorite word, “Ha-ry, Ha-ry”. And after about a year of waiting, when at last the Supremes decided that they were safe, the same people who wanted to trade the kid for their life boasted they knew it all along that they were safe. But none of that actually made his name Harry, except for the fact that he just won’t stop chanting it.

And due to all of this, on the day that the ship on task was about to leave, not only did he get kisses and words of advice from his mother, but also side glances and snarky remarks mixed with desperate pleads from all of the community. The Supremes nearly kept him from boarding but some rules even they couldn’t break. Thus letting Harry reluctantly embark the ship. And as it took off, everyone prayed to the stars to knock some sense into the curious boy and not let their own children die in the process.

But as it was, the stars had something else in store for him.

///

It was dark, too dark for your liking. And the candle melting on your hand didn’t help you much. And neither did your fuming rage. If blowing up the transistor and sucking in the power of the entire village wasn’t enough for your brother, he even had to forget where he left the torch. Cons of having a scientist for a brother you assume. But that doesn’t justify you haunting around the house with a candle like a ghost. And he deserves to know it.

With that thought, you pull down your hair and wrap a white sheet around you as you creep to his mini lab in your backyard with a candle in your hand. Even though he is a scientist and all, he has an active imagination when it comes to these things. And you would also like to think that you’re quite a convincing ghost with your preparations. Though you didn’t plan on the pitch black of the new moon making everything eerie, your own footsteps giving you goose bumps making you mutter all the prayers you know under your breath. But when the bushes behind you rustle and you could hear someone else’s breathing you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Ed! Ed, I know it’s you.” You call for your brother taking cautious steps towards that corner. “Ed, that’s not funny. At. All.” You say sharply, sounding braver than you feel. But all that bravery drains you when Ed does reply to you, from behind.

“What’s all the ruckus for?” and you jump out of your skin. Turning around to find him at the threshold of his lab with the candles from inside marking his silhouette. “It’s-“

The sudden movement make you both turn to look at the figure emerging from the bushes and a scream instantly leaves both of your mouths soon joined by a third voice. Lifting the candle after you register the fact that the other person is as scared as you. You find a boy of your age, with a mop of curls, shining eyes and a bright red nose. As if on cue, he sneezes and you look down at the flimsy pink night gown he is draped in, which even in the dark you can say belongs to Mrs. Carlson down the street. You burst into a fit of giggle as he rubs his nose, eyes bouncing between the two when your brother at last recovers from the scare. “Whoa, mate! Could have given me a heart attack there. And what’s that you’re wearing?”

You examine the stranger’s confused face and decide that he might still be in shock thus turning around beckoning both inside the house. “I’ll find you proper clothes” you say going inside to dig for something fitting.

“Yeh new here?” Ed asks eying the guy as he looks around still rubbing on his red nose. “What’s your name, mate?” Ed tries again. But their guest just tilts his head staring at the ginger head like he is from another world. “I’m Ed.” He extends a hand which makes the guy recoil before taking it cautiously. Lips part and close as he tries to bring out a word but fails.

“Ha-ry. I’m Ha-ry” he says at last, slowly like he is testing his own voice. And surely he was as he recollected all the things they were taught in preparation for something like this.

“Ah, I thought you’re dumb or something. No offence!” Ed raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Ed, don’t scare him!” you come from inside with arms full of clothes which you dump on the couch. You look up at him smiling as he reciprocates with his own bright smile. Extending his hand, Harry mimics Ed’s previous actions and repeats himself, now with a higher pitch testing his voice.

“Harry!”

You giggle at his sudden surge of excitement introducing yourself. He joins you in as you both laugh with his freezing huge hands wrapped around yours seeking warmth.

But your brother butts in pulling you away.  “Now that everyone knows everyone” he says a bit harshly as he stands between the both of you. “What were you doing in our backyard, Ha-ry?”

You look at the confusion clouding his face again, his cheeks pink from the cold. “At least let the guy dress up, will yeh?” You say elbowing Ed aside as you lead Harry to the other room to change.

Though you were less worried about the stranger in your house than fixing up dinner in the dark, Ed won’t stop mumbling things like if he is a thug, a serial killer, a runaway prisoner, a psychopath and his most favorite, an alien. You role your eyes at all of them, and specially the last one, though the fact that you are feeling so at ease about the whole situation itself is a bit disturbing to you.

“We are two. We outnumber him.”

“What if he has a weapon?”

“The guy hardly has clothes, Ed!”

Harry enters the room dumbfound staring at the both of you as you siblings stare back at him trying to calm down from your argument. “Wait, you gave him my clothes?”

“It was either that or Grandpa’s old dress shirts and sweater vests.” You speak taking in the sight of Harry drowned in a yellow sweater with skinny jeans and though the sweater is gigantic for him, the jeans just fit him perfectly. He catches your eye with his eternally confused look, “Huh?” And you think maybe he’d pull off your Grandpa’s clothes too.

“So, quiz time.” Ed claps his hands stepping forward, “Where are you from and what are are you doing here?”

“Ed!” you warn him and he looks back at you ready to defend himself but you beat him to it. “Not everybody is a genius like you. Let the guy be. He clearly looks traumatized enough without you giving him the third degree.”

Ed’s mouth opens ready to give a speech of his own when Harry chirps in, softer than before like he is talking to himself. “Trauma-…genius?”

Though he is just picking up the words trying to make sense about everything, his words comes out as a question which in turn elates Ed giving him a chance to re-introduce himself. “Dr. Ed Sheeran, you must have heard about me. The only one with a doctorate in a hundred miles radius and a thriving astrophysicist on his way to the millennium’s greatest discovery. I won’t have to be giving these introductions once I track those buggers up there” he mutters the last part to himself.

Harry takes his hand recognizing this gesture with another surge of excitement as he congratulates himself at knowing it. But Ed, in his moment of fame, mistakes the excitement as having to do something with his declaration. And his genius mind runs at the speed of light as he puts two and two together. “Are you by any chance one of them young boys pursuing to be in this field?” “What now?” you croak from behind, your mouth stuffed with cheese and crackers.

“Don’t you remember? The boys from the Catholic school, who wanted to get into research instead of living the mundane life of a teacher or a factory worker and then were shunned by their parents?”

“You mean the scandal that accused you of starting a cult? Yeah, sure.” You laugh thinking about the various accusations on your brother just for being different. Your all time favorite being him turning into Frankenstein.

Ed turns to Harry guiltily while Harry just tilts his head giving a nervous smile starting to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation, more to the credit of his devoted time with the radio than to his lessons. “So…. Are you?”

Harry looks between both of your awaiting faces and does the only thing he feels natural. Bob his head in a rhythm as he smiles bright. You both let out the breathe you didn’t know you were holding, laughing at the tension that settled in the room. But soon that takes over with Ed’s eagerness as he drags Harry back into the garden shed that he made into his lab, ignoring your calls for dinner. Harry stumbles all the way to the lab, tripping over his gangly human legs as he is pulled into the cramped space. The wooden shack is spacious inside though is crowded with instruments and machines and the rest of the open space covered with research papers. Ed quickly apologizes clearing the papers before going on to explain about the various devices though Harry gets caught with the flickering flame of the candle. He raises his arm to touch it when the power comes on and everything in the room burst into live. A small shriek leaves Harry’s lips, mainly at the surprise of the artificial light though Ed takes it as a scare from his robotic arm. “I’m sorry. That’s Thing.”

Harry gives a quizzical look to Ed which makes him wave his hand in the air. “I know it sounds stupid. But I thought it’d be fun, you know like from the Addams’ family? Mr. Thing T. Thing? I know it’s not very original and all. But-“he switches it on as the hand springs up and waves at Harry. He looks at it confused and mimics the action. “It makes me coffee when I’m working! That little missy in there can be very moody when she wants.”

Harry smiles and nods again but then his eyes lock on the screen over Ed’s shoulder. And as Ed goes on to explain the mechanism of the arm, Harry zones out to the night sky showing on the big screen, with all the stars twinkling on its black canvas. And amongst it all is the one tiny dot that hardly seems any different but means the world to him, literally. His home.

Harry burst into tears soon after seeing his home as a tiny dot, instantly missing his people and feeling guilty of whatever happened. Thinking about how he screwed up yet again and was lost on this strange planet all alone. And the thought of it all was tolling on him. After his break down, without much of talking, you and Ed thought it’s best for him to be tucked in the guest room, only thing being that the guest room wasn’t a guest room but a store room cum library with a mattress. Ed explained to you, what he thought, was an emotional outburst from being overwhelmed to be so close to your dream. And though it did sound very absurd to you, you guess there wasn’t much you understood in this field.

Harry at last stopped sobbing but by then the whole house was silent with slumber. But that didn’t bother Harry as much as the fact that he didn’t know where he was. And in the darkness, without the knowledge of what the Earthlings call ‘electricity’, Harry resolved to use his absorbed solar energy, thanking the Divine Star as always before radiating the light he absorbed then embarking on the journey. The room immediately lit up to be a dusty old storeroom with boxes stacked in one side and cupboards covered in cobwebs but Harry found it all amusing. Being immune to the dust and dirt of this world, he eagerly dug into the boxes despite of the small voice in his head warning him that this might be dangerous, as if he ever listens to that.

Some boxes were less dirty and disheveled, filled with clothes that smelled the same as he was wearing, thus concluding they were procured from there. The others filled with odd little boxes which opened to thinner layers and a lot of tiny drawings scattered on them. Harry being a stranger to this mode of information keeping, didn’t understand the significance of the books he was holding, though he has always been faster in reading than speaking, being the youngest of his species to learn their letters. By the age when others were learning their alphabets, he already moved on to his mother’s literature collection. So even if he didn’t understand the concept of books, he understood the concept of reading and by the time the sun came up he was done rummaging through most of the books there, gaining enough knowledge to address a roomful of university students the Theory of relativity and at least explaining Shakespeare’s sonnets to a high school class.

The next day, Harry, though quite, seemed to be very fluid as he adjusted easily into your routine. He did his dishes after breakfast, cleaned up the guest room before taking a bath and was outright polite around you both, excusing the fact that you found him lying on the roof early in the morning. And though Harry easily pleased you with his polite but quite demeanor, Ed didn’t think so when Harry was taken to work.

“Can you not-“Ed has to rush around each time when he looks up to see Harry fiddling with a machine, his voice raising immediately making Harry jump a foot high. “-touch that please. The wiring is very delicate.” He finishes in a more calm tone once the tool is in his hands. But it is repeated all over again and again as Harry couldn’t keep his grabby hands to himself.

At last Ed makes Harry do the regulation of the radio waves instead of demonstrating them himself, knowing that this kid of a man couldn’t sit still until kept occupied. But to Ed’s surprise Harry is in fact an expert at radio communication tuning it in the accurate angle to acquire the right frequency at the first trial, something which even Ed has not mastered yet (he should have just hired an astro-radiologist). When the radio livens with the heavenly sound of cosmic blur Ed couldn’t stop from hugging the life out of Harry as he announces him in-charge of the radio and the best apprentice ever! (Which was pointless considering the only other assistant he ever had was you though you never agreed on anything like that)

Ed rambles a lot of half finished sentences trying to pick up his lecture from last night but getting distracted with his calculations every now and then. More often than none, he gets so engrossed in his research that he forgets to even straighten his back, let alone get out of the shack. But Harry doesn’t mind as he tries to focus and grab the waves from his vessel or his planet, whichever comes first. But it seems like a harder task than what he just did for Ed as the equipment given to him are way outdated than the ones he had back at home, at last these were running on ‘electricity’.

Truth be spoken, Harry was banned from the radio centre, or anywhere near it after the first incident. No one with sound mind would let him in that area and it killed Harry from inside because he didn’t have a good relationship with closed doors for obvious reasons. And with his petulant whining and pleads he landed with a radio receiver of his own, specially designed for him with only and only the facility of receiving waves and his family has never known silence since then.

But Harry couldn’t be more grateful about landing here out of all the places. He didn’t know much about the rest of the humankind but he knew for sure that Ed was one of a kind. And with his obsession with, indirectly, Harry’s life gave him a strange kind of security. He just felt assured that this is the best place he could be right now. So, all he focused at the moment was to find his ship.

When the sun set, you had to practically drag them both out by the collar for dinner when you stepped in the dark lab to switch on the lights, which obviously both of them couldn’t bother to do themselves. Ed couldn’t stop gushing about how Harry was so handy with the radio and all his new hypothesis though you couldn’t care less.

“I had to go around apologizing on your behalf again. The grocers said nobody would sell us anything if there’s another power cut because of you.” You lean on the counter trying to act stern though you have to hold your laugh when Harry gets cross eyed examining an egg like it was a dinosaur’s instead of a chicken’s.

“Those ignorant brats, they are! They’ll all be scattering around us for a piece of me once I’m done with this project.”

You sigh letting your chin drop. He is always so sure about his work but it has been years and there is just no progress and-

“Hey, you! Don’t get all sad on me. You do believe that I will get it through, right?” Ed stands by you squeezing your arm in assurance and you have to nod, at least for his sake. “I’ll prove that extra terrestrial life exists and all these are not just myths. And then NASA will be begging me to join them and then these people will miss us to bits. I’ll never let you and Professor Enoch down. He spent his whole life doing this, can’t let it waste now, can we?” he says chucking under your chin and you nod again with a bit more assurance though you doubt if it’s convincing. But you didn’t get to worry much as there is a cracking sound behind you and you turn around to see Harry’s cheek dripping with the egg yolk.

///

It is quite surprising how a third person fit in the small world of you both. Ed eases into the idea of having an apprentice and often in their breaks, you’d find them on your ragged couch sipping on tea with Ed rambling how penguins have individualistic sounds to recognize each other or how George Reeves is the best Superman ever(!) And Harry filling in a few words here and there in his slow drawling voice, which doesn’t only keep Ed occupied but also entertains you when Harry would take a break after seeing nothing but spots in front of his eyes from focusing on the screen for too long. You also love how Harry actually listens and even more how he takes pauses between words like every word he says has been delicately constructed just for you and how he gets animated with his hands and eyes when he tries really hard to explain something. And it gets even more interesting when he stumbles upon your Grandma’s stashed gypsy jewels and now more than often his lanky fingers adorned with gypsy rings are flashed all over your face.

Harry has also taken more of a liking to your dad’s shirts, not that you mind. And anyway, when he asks for kale juice in McDonald's, his exotic dressing sense is the last thing you’re worried about.

“You should hang out less with my brother. He is getting in your head.” You say sipping on your chocolate shake.

Harry just tilts his head frowning at you and you let out an exasperated sigh.

“He has adopted these strange things over the time. At least, now he isn’t eating his apples with ketchup.” You cringe a bit with the thought.

“And….. that’s weird?” Harry’s genuine confusion nearly makes you spill your drink.

But that never stopped you from dragging Harry along with you whenever you got a chance to. With your friends gone to uni and spending hours of looming around the empty house, it was good to have company. Though to no one’s surprise that led Ed to take over his brotherly duties of tormenting Harry each time he’d be around you. Like the time Harry was explaining you evidences of the existence of Atlantis (which vaguely sounded like a Vernian thesis your Granddad owned) while you were doing laundry in the basement and Ed busted in dragging a very confused Harry claiming that he really needs a tea break though he already took one not even fifteen minutes ago, leaving you to roll your eyes.

But anyhow, you know Ed loves him to bits. May it be the time you walked in the lab to see them subconsciously coordinating into a routine like an old married couple or when you trudge by the living room at midnight, sleepy and thirsty, to find them drunk and teary watching Downtown Abbey.

And if you still had your doubts, it vanished the night you three decided to binge watch movies. And you obviously insist on horror movies not only because you know full well that Ed is an easy scare but also because Harry starts boasting that it couldn’t make him flinch (though in reality he had no idea what a horror movie is) and you want to test his words. And true to his words you find him giggling away half way through the movie, but soon you join in as you notice that Ed sitting between the both of you is jumping at every little thing happening in the movie. But then your eyes meet behind Ed’s back and a devilish grin pull at your lips as he catches on your thoughts and reflects your grin.

You hold up your hand counting backwards from three and Harry mouths the numbers as you both pounce on Ed shrieking at the end scaring the daylights out of him. Even his red face and ragged breath and gushed cusses couldn’t stop you from literally rolling on the floor laughing. Making Ed dump all the pop corn on you both and vanishing into his room.

Though, overnight guilt takes over you and the first thing you want to do the next morning is apologize to your brother, except for he is not in any of his usual places. And worried you enter Harry’s room to wake him up when you find a sleeping Ed cuddling his pillow with a mouthful of Harry’s hair with one of Harry’s arm thrown across him as if he is protecting Ed from all those ghosts in his dream. The scene is so endearing that you’d have just stood there cooing at them all day but then again you had to take a photo to torment them both later.

It’s good to see Ed at last opening to someone after being a recluse for years following the demise of his mentor, Professor Enoch. He always was a misfit, with his red head and spindly limbs, and would be pushed around by the other guys. That was until he met Prof. Enoch, who also happened to be your Granddad’s best friend, and all of a sudden everything fell into place. With the telescope he got for his tenth birthday and books about stars and galaxies crowding his shelf, Ed became a favourite of Professor Enoch. And that was the first time he felt like he belonged somewhere. But the thing with them just so happened to be that both gave in to social isolation locking themselves in the Professor’s mansion for days on end and nobody would know what they were up to. And that’s why it hit him hard after the Professor’s death and Ed again confined himself, this time, to his make shift lab.

So after months of seeing your brother shut himself off, when the other day you went to the market without knowing that there were whiskers drawn on your face, you couldn’t be really angry on the red faced giggling duo of Harry and Ed. At least seeing him easing around someone, even at your own cost, it’s worth it. And just the fact that Harry spent the rest of the evening following you like a kitten and apologizing with a little pout wasn’t helping your anger either.

On the other hand, Harry is having a blast. To his great pleasure, he has learned a lot of new things. Starting with speaking skills to better ways of cracking an egg rather than to slap it on his face, though he still struggles with the idea of electricity and where in space Krypton is.  But by far the best thing is the food. It’s all so different that he couldn’t have enough of it and that makes him utterly thankful for the metamorphosis adaptation enabling him to enjoy it all. Though when he tried the shorter green leaves from the lawn when the ones inside finished, all hell broke as you went off on Ed for starving your guest to madness.

And to think about it, you weren’t that far off with your accusations. Since just the other night, Ed was so engrossed that they completely forgot about dinner and Harry would have not noticed either if it weren’t for his grumbling stomach, which by now he has learned is his human body’s way of reminding him to eat. But with Ed busy and you asleep, he helplessly wanders in the kitchen sniffing every bottle and jar trying to find one of those things that you people make him to eat. And then he realizes that for the first time in his life he actually didn’t dig in and thus has no idea about cooking. But it seems that his luck was with him as you walk out drowned in a night shirt and PJs with printed cheese and bananas all over, making his stomach growl even louder which makes you chuckle knuckling at your sleep ridden eyes.

“Hungry, Harry?”

And he just stands nodding at you as you turn to the fridge to take out the frozen soup that you had for dinner. But by the time you prepare to heat it, you look up to find Harry licking off sugar syrup off his fingers.

“What are you doing?” You narrow your eyes at him with a smile creeping on your lips and he stops mid lick looking at you like a deer in the headlight. The sight makes you burst out laughing. He is about to scratch his head in embarrassment before remembering about the syrup on his fingers and you both cringe at the thought of what could have happened and then break into laughter again. Mid-laugh it strikes you and you switch off the heat turning to him with wide eyes as if you’re conspiring something and as always he is all ears for any and all of your conspiracies.

“Do you have a sweet tooth, Harry?” He tilts his head blinking at you for a while before deciding that agreeing would be the best way to go and he nods.

With that innocent look on his face, you feel wicked to pull out the bottom drawer and reveal your secret stash of chocolates. But it does not feel all that wicked when Harry looks into it with wild eyes as if you have just lit the Christmas tree. Picking a Hershey’s bar you give it to him as you pick a kit Kat and lift yourself on the counter with your legs dangling. Harry leans on the closed fridge door carefully unwrapping the bar and your eyes fix on the curls falling over his eyes and the shadow of his cheekbones lit by the dim light of the hall.

Your concentration is broken by a long moan as Harry tilts his head back with the first bite of the chocolate. A chuckle slips out of your lips and Harry looks back at you even more embarrassed now and immediately the guilt of laughing at him hits you.

“How long has it been since you last had a chocolate, Harry?”

“Too long.” He lies through his teeth.

“Strict parents?” And Harry nods without even thinking as he takes another bite.

“Our Mom was also strict about sugar in the house. Chocolates were only for Halloween. But dad was cool with it. He is the one who’d encourage us to have a secret stash, guess I’m stuck with the habit.”

“Where are they?” Harry asks with a frown stopping mid-bite. But when you hesitate he retracts. “You don’t-“

“Oh, no. It’s fine. We just don’t talk about them anymore.” You shrug, your chocolate long forgotten. “Our parents died in an accident when we were in our teens. But we didn’t know them very well anyway. Mum had a traveling job and dad traveled with her. To be honest, I don’t remember much from the time when we used to live together.”

Harry frowns at you with disbelief and you wonder if he is really close to his family.

“Do you miss them?”

And now it’s you frowning as you think back to the time when you last thought about them. “I think so, sometimes. I was really young when we were together. I remember at that time, whenever someone would ask me what I wanted to become when I grow up, I’d say ‘my dad’. And my mum hated it. My dad was a writer, would sit at home all day surrounded by crumpled paper and ink stains all over him. His mind was always in a different world, always lost, a bit slow to catch on things but had the wittiest comebacks when he actually listens. I just… don’t know why I said it. Maybe it was just that, you know? To be able to lose yourself in a different head-space. Now I know why Mum hated me for saying that, I mean, she’s one of the strongest and the most ambitious women this small town has ever seen. Well, guess where Ed got his determination from?” You let out a breathy chuckle looking at Harry, but he is still frowning, listening to you intently, so you continue. “And dad on the other hand was just…. Nice, you know? Quite, always polite and… he was in fact the nicest person I have ever known. I think somewhere I still want to be like him.”

And you run out of words. This is a revelation to you as well as you think back to what you just said. You didn’t know how much you actually missed them or how much you remembered, but talking about it aloud brought back all the feelings and it is like your father is right there in the room with you.

“You’re nice too.”

Harry chirps in your thought train and you give him a wide smile. “Aw, you’re not bad yourself Harry.” You say patting him on the shoulder as you get off the counter heading to your room stowing away the intact kit kat back in its place.

“Thank you.”

You look back to see Harry watching you with soft eyes and a small smile and then at the half eaten chocolate in his hand. “It’s cool. You can grab one anytime you feel like. Just don’t tell Ed, I don’t share my secret stash with him, that’s why it’s a secret.” You end with a wink. But Harry just shakes his head.

“No, I mean everything. Thank you for everything.”

This makes you stop and stare at him for a while. His warm smile, glowing eyes and just… him. He feels so familiar but then again maybe it’s just memories fogging your emotions.

You nod with a small smile tugging at your lips as you turn to head back again.

“Good night, Harry.”

///

Between working with Ed and hanging out with you, Harry doesn’t regret much about all the mistakes that has led him to here. He would miss home, true. But in those times you’d hand him a glass of hot chocolate (he can never have enough of that) and start blabbering some anecdotes from your childhood to ease him which would inevitably lead to Harry teasing and cracking really bad jokes about it. And at last you decided to just stick to Ed’s embarrassing stories instead of yours (which you learned the hard way after bringing up the story where you accidently killed a spider when you were 7 and were scared for days thinking the giant mother spider will come to eat you and Harry, being the sweetheart he is, took it upon himself to scream “SPIDER!!!” pointing at your feet when you’re mid step often ending up with you falling on your ass). But he did appreciate it, the way you would rub his back when he was particularly feeling low and sad or just tired when your brother exhausted him by being the workaholic he is. He loved it how you would stay up late at night saying that you are reading a book or binge watching a show when you’re actually waiting for them and to remind them to have sufficient amount of sleep. And at those times, how your lashes would stick together refusing to open your eyes and you rub your eyes sighing (because you obviously cannot yawn when you said you’re not sleepy). And how you would leave sticky notes all over the house threatening them to take care of themselves and not burn the house down while you’re away.

But there is also something bothering him, the things he can’t explain. Like that small flutter in his chest when you’d smile at the ground thinking about something and when you cringed your nose when he cracked a joke, though he knows you like it and you’re suppressing a smile, and the way you look at him when he is talking even when he can’t remember the right words. And that flip in his stomach when you laughed at something he said wrong about some Earthling thing about society (why is everything so confusing here?) and then you would patiently correct him when it is not completely absurd, and if it is utterly absurd, that would earn him a slap to his chest and narrow eyes.  And the sudden feeling of burning up when you would give him a sly smile and a wink when you both teamed up against Ed in a joke. Or the need to hold on to you when you would hug and his hands would trace over the soft bumps and curves of your body or when you rested your head on his shoulder after a long day and would nuzzle against his neck. And to add on, he couldn’t find a remedy in all of those books which was driving him crazy.

Not that Ed helps either. With his brotherly instincts kicking in, he just stands there throwing daggers at Harry when you both are giggling away at some inside joke. And more often than none he’d come in dragging Harry because “What if our brothers up there are calling us and we’re not there to pick up the damn phone!”

So Harry is just on his own in this one.

///

Ed has eventually relaxes around him over the time and trusts him with the lab and maybe even more. Harry has picked up on your habits and often takes on your job to remind Ed to eat in time and sometimes to even take pee breaks (because Ed is just so engrossed). He has taken Ed to be like a brother he never had. Where in his planet he never fitted in, with his long history of mishaps and different, often daring, thinking left him with no friends, here Ed didn’t care much about his mistakes and surely appreciated his thinking, especially when it was proving to be beneficiary to both of them.

And though he has always been a workaholic, breaks with Harry were surely becoming one of his favourite things. Usually in his breaks he’d opt to do some mindless TV surfing with a cheese steak and some beer, but Harry surely adds spice to his mundane routine. It turns out Harry was not very acquainted with any TV series or movies, which was strange since his knowledge of music wasn’t only varied but dated over decades (thanks to his radio). So, you and Ed took upon yourselves to update him with all your favourite things, starting from the superhero movies since Harry couldn’t shut up about Krypton (though Ed thought he was only ribbing him). But somehow they end up watching Before Sunrise with beer and nachos at their disposal.

“You know, this movie broke my heart for the first time.”

Harry didn’t know he was smiling at the screen until he turned to Ed with a frown. “What? How?”

“I mean, not the movie. Because of this movie. This point” he says pointing towards the screen with his beer bottle as they hop off the train in the movie, “where he says that ‘think of this as time traveling’ and I thought, you know I don’t want to have to do that. And I…  had this girl in my class who was always my lab partner and she won’t do a thing and I’d do the whole thing and at the end she’d thank me with a smile and that’d be enough for me.” Harry chuckles shaking his head at Ed which Ed mimics, “Yeah, I was pretty whipped for her. So anyway, after I watched this I was like, what is the worst thing that could happen anyway? And now I can safely say that spaghetti stains on my favourite Heisenberg t-shirt was so not worth it.”

Harry burst out laughing with crinkles forming by his eyes and Ed just sat there shaking at himself.

“You know, I just realized you have never said anything about your childhood. You’re living with us and I don’t know a thing about you.”

Harry’s smile slid down his face as he thought back to the big secret that he is holding. He really wanted to spill the truth already trusting you both enough now. And the thought of tonight being the night makes his insides gooey.

“What do you wanna know?” he asks with a straight face, still considering if he should tell Ed about him already.

“How about…. Tell me how you got into this field, for starters?”

He had to squint his eyes considering the question. It’s not like he lied about that before, he has surely always been into this even back at home. But he doesn’t remember how it all started.

“I think… I was very young. My mum would tell me stories about people from faraway land as bedtime story and I just… wanted it all.” He ends with a shrug. That wasn’t hard, neither a complete lie. He does remember her telling those stories, though it was mostly because he urged her to.

“Your mom sounds very cool, Harry.”

Harry smiles thinking about her starting to miss her again but then he notices Ed’s face fall and his mind goes back to the story you told him a long time ago and he knew he somehow had to bring that smile back.

“You know once, I stayed up all night to see where the sun goes.” Harry said looking at Ed nudging him with his socked feet that lay upon the coffee table beside Ed’s. Ed looks up to him with a questioning look. “And then it dawned on me.”

“Was that a joke, Harry?” Ed narrows his eyes as Harry stares at him with wide eyes holding his breath. And Ed couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh shaking his head because it is just like Harry to say something like that and Harry joins in.

“I have another one!”

“No!”

“This one’s good, I swear. Okay, how do you know the moon is going broke?”

“It’s down to its last quarter.” Ed says with a smile already pulling on his lips.

“You knew that already!”

“It wasn’t funny anyway!” But he was still laughing as Harry whined and pouted.

And surely Harry was much more useful than just to crack really bad jokes when he is piss drunk (or not). And it all came to a result when one evening the radio starts beeping and all his gadgets blurring the red light. Ed and Harry jump to their feet looking at each other with matching expressions. They did it! At last they got something in return, they don’t know what yet but they did!

Both the lads couldn’t help but launch on each other with a tight grip jumping around in victory when the beeping increased to a shrill sound and they released each other looking around.

The heat meter was going mad, Ed noticed and turned to tell that to Harry but he was already heading to record the signals that made them dance to their victory.

“Good thinking, mate! But you should really-“

Ed leaned in beside Harry looking at the screen with it’s ECG like marking when the whole system blew off due to overheating. You entered on time to see their darkened ashen faces staring at you with matching pouts and hair stood on attention. And you barked out in laughter. That is until the lights went off with a distant burst.

“EDDD!”

///

You were pissed off, no doubt. No matter how many times Ed apologized for blowing out the transmitter, again. He knew that you were so pissed that he even made Harry apologize to you with all his charm and “we’re so sorry, love. To make the current a history.”

But all the charm and jokes couldn’t have persuaded you, especially since you were the one who went out to the city for about everything and were answerable for all their acts. You warned them and they had to learn soon.

And that’s how the socially awkward duo found themselves walking to the market the next day. Ed remembers your outburst from the last time he blew the electricity and he totally gets it. With the side glances and whispers storming around him, he can feel the heat raising his neck already. This was most probably the best way to punish him. 

And if that wasn’t enough, the first shop that Ed goes to, just to hide from others, turns out to be Steve’s. The same Steve who in school used to hide Ed’s books and call him names and pull ridiculous pranks on. And the smirk that pulls on his lips tells that he hasn’t changed much.

“Look, who do we have here? The crazy scientist and… who’s this? His lab rat?” Ed gulps cowering into himself, memories from his childhood flashing in front of his eyes.

Harry looks at Steve then Ed and then back at Steve. “He’s not crazy! Don’t look at him like that!” ‘Cause how dare someone look like that at his human?

“Harry, don’t.” Ed mutters trying to keep Harry from pouncing at Steve already which just agitates the bully more.

“Oh, so have you got yourself a boyfriend here, ginger? Is he the alien that you’ve been waiting your whole life for? You really had to summon someone from the another planet ‘cause you couldn’t get any on this, didn’t you?”

And that was what triggered Harry because no one should ever put anyone down for their passion, and this was Ed we were talking about.

With all his concentration Harry had to pull that one trick that he hoped he’d never had to, the heat of the Divine Star that he had absorbed that morning focusing on his target to form a laser like beam. To be honest it’s more like a magnifying glass focusing the sunlight at a point but it’s enough to burn and burn it does as Steve feels the heat on his head with the smell of burning hair overpowering his senses. His hand immediately clutched his head holding on the wrinkling hair patch as Ed laughs out at his plight despite of not understanding it. And soon the rest of the crowd that gathered around starts laughing at Steve’s misery as Harry and Ed moves on with the shopping taking advantage of the shifted attention.

“Thank you for standing up for me, mate.” Ed says to the ground on their way back. Harry shrugged not thinking much of it. “No, I seriously mean it. I’ve never had a friend, so it’s nice to have someone by your side, you know.”

Ed looks up at Harry when he nods urging him to go on. “I’ve spend my entire lifetime dreaming this one dream that I never got to really live, you know. And I don’t regret that! But yeah, it’s nice to have someone.”

“You spend your whole life on this one project?”

Ed nods looking out in the distant like he can look back at the small kid with specs bigger than his face drowning in books heavier than him. “I’ve been curious about the universe since ever. But when I learned the possibilities of life outside the Earth, it got me even more excited. I think it was partly because I felt like I didn’t fit here and maybe… That makes Steve right, doesn’t it?” His laugh was empty and it saddened Harry. But he couldn’t do much then bump his shoulder against Ed’s and that was enough to earn him a smile.

“Why are you so sure that there is anyone there?” Harry asked again changing the topic. And it did wonders as Ed looked at him with a smirk of his own.

“Can I let you in on a secret?”

Harry frowns at that, his stomach flopping in a not so good way. But he leans in anyway, all ears.

“So I was living with my Professor, yeah? We were doing really well on this one project, it wasn’t a big deal. Just some model radio thingy. It wasn’t even supposed to work as an astro radio, you know, like the one we have back in the lab. It was more for the microscopic range. But one night it just started beeping all strange. The maid thought it was possessed. Turns out it caught some signals, which was strange since it didn’t work properly. And it didn’t, not at least like it was supposed to. Instead it caught radio signals of macroscopic scale and we found two different records. Now we never deciphered them, so it wasn’t really viable officially. But we knew it was from them and that’s why I just need to get them again this time around and decipher it. If we have a record to present later, no one can discard that!”

All through that, Harry thinks he might have an inkling of what Ed is on about. But he refuses to believe that his childish mistake can shape out someone’s entire life, so he pushes that thought back in his mind and grabs at everything else.

“So if you were to find someone out there you’d befriend them?” Harry asks to distract though he also wants to test the water if he can at last reveal his identity. He has been itching to do so every time he realizes just how much he has come to adore the both of you.

Ed bursts into laughter that sparks hope in Harry before Ed continues, “yeah sure. Once I dissect them to see what all the buzz is about” and that makes Harry freeze.

///

With the whole system blown off, there wasn’t much to do in the lab for them. But Ed was determined on getting it fixed as soon as possible to check if the signals that they got yesterday could be retrieved at all. And as much as Harry wanted to help, he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Ed after his intention of cutting an alien into pieces. Even the thought makes Harry shiver. And miss home. So he heads out to his favourite secret spot (as he had to sneak out every time after the first time he got caught), the roof.

He laid there, his limbs sprawling out as he stared at the stars above, naming all of them thinking back to their atmosphere and the people out there. But mostly, that one small star that looks like it forgets to twinkle, the place that he calls home. He is just about to get teary eyed when you find him. Clearing your throat you announce your arrival and he nearly tumbles off the slant. And though he feels like he could have died with a heart attack, the sound of your laughter eases the pain a bit and a soft smile settles on his lips.

He helps you out to lie on the roof as well, staring at the sky without saying anything. And he wonders what you think of the tiny star that is his world. But before he could say anything you start.

“Thanks… for what you did today. Ed told me. He’s really happy to have you here, you know?”

“I know.” Harry replies on autopilot though he can hear the warmth of your gratitude.

“You’re like the brother he never had and he’s really grateful for it.” Your words make Harry soften from his previously rough mood and he wants to tell you that he is grateful too, to have you both.

“So am I.” But you beat him to it as you turn your head to see Harry looking at you from your side where he is laying.

Harry opens his mouth and closes, words barely forming. And you couldn’t help but stare at those lips thinking how soft they would feel on you.

“I am grateful for you lot too. I never really had friends.” And Harry turns back to look at the sky. You sigh shaking your head lightly laughing at your own thoughts.

“I did. Loads of them. But now here I am, stuck with two dorks.”

Harry chuckles before saying, “What happened to them?”

You sigh, unknowingly playing with your hair. “Nothing. After school everyone moved to uni and nobody remembers the girl left behind with her excuse of a gap year to take care of her up-to-no-good brother”

You laugh again as you say that though Harry is frowning at you. “Really?”

You at last catch on what he is saying, “uh no. I mean, I didn’t just stay back because of him, of course. I didn’t even know what I’d major in. Growing up I’ve seen Ed and…. He has always been so ambitious. He always knew what he wants from life. Me on the other hand, I have no idea. I couldn’t even decide on my major.”

“Maybe you can become a writer… with all your crazy stories about giant spiders.”

That earns him a slap to his chest making him chuckle. The vibrations in his chest forming a sweet hum under your fingertips and you leave your hand there.

“Yeah, right. After staying with my brother for so long the only thing I’d be able to write about is alien invasions.”

“That’d be great too!” he exclaims with a spark zipping through him.

But you dismiss it with a “Nah, that’s overdone.” He falls back.

He is just about to start whining that if you don’t show them as invading but just visiting with warm hugs and treats that’ll make it more interesting (and realistic), when you  call his name softly. He’d have thought it is just the wind but he can feel you tense up beside him, your words just sitting at the tip of your tongue.

“Do you think anybody’s really out there?” you ask just above a whisper.

You know that’s a stupid question to ask him since he is also working towards the same goals as your brother. But you need to know what he thinks. So you hold your breath.

“Why, yes! Of course.” He says after a dramatic pause. And his declaration knocks the air out of you and makes you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Who, Harry?” you say quietly as if the air around you is fragile and might break if you speak any louder.

But Harry doesn’t seem to care about any fragility as he sits up and makes a gesture that was too fast for you to follow. You sit straight and lean closer to examine his clasped hands that he is offering you. And when he opens his palms slowly there is a small yellow light sitting right in the middle.

“This little fella.” He says softly as the firefly lifts up from his hand lighting up both of your faces as you both look at his blooming and dimming tail as he flies off.

As the light gets distant your eyes fall back on Harry and you can feel your blush creep on your face when you see his eyes trained on your lips. His smile wavers, just a bit, when he looks up at you to see that he is caught. But then ever so cheeky, he just licks his lips and smirks at you melting something inside you.

You don’t even realize you’re leaning in until you feel his breath hit on your Cupid’s bow and you close your eyes. And right then, you hear Ed’s voice bellowing from downstairs calling for Harry, just the perfect timing. You internally groan as Harry helps you off the roof and you pretend to not notice the slight tremor in his structure.

///

You and Harry stand facing a very red faced Ed sitting stupefied in front of his monitor thingy. In the clouding confusion, you want to ask him what’s up when you notice that he isn’t even looking at you. Following his line of vision, you look at a very timid Harry, equally red faced though evidently for a very different reason. On instinct you step towards Ed trying to defend Harry for whatever it is that is brewing between them when Ed speaks up in an accusing tone.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Harry gulps. He knew. He obviously knew! He knew it since the time he got the signal; it was his ship contacting him. They were coming they said. And that’s why he was more interested in reading the rest of the message rather than manage the overheating machines. But he never got to read it completely and from then he is just counting the time that he has left with you two.

And apparently, Ed has not only fixed the system but retrieved and  deciphered the message as well.

“I wanted to.”

“What’s going on, guys?”

“Why didn’t you?” If Ed were a cartoon, there’d be steam above his head. And you’ve never seen him like this. But the part that breaks your heart is the teary eyed Harry who is choking on his words as he tries to explain.

“I wanted to! I just… you were about to dissect me.”

“How could you think like that, you fool! You’re like my brother. I’d never. But I don’t think I mattered at all anyway. This whole time you were just using us to get back, weren’t you?”

“GUYS! Will someone tell me what’s going on?”

You stand between them looking at both of them with bewildered eyes. Your stomach knotting fearing the unknown.

“Ask him.” Ed says looking away. And you turn towards Harry who couldn’t meet your eyes either.

After a few seconds pass by Harry starts with his voice shaking. “I didn’t come from that village you thought I did… I don’t even remember what was the name you said. But… I just didn’t know what to say at the time. I couldn’t just trust anybody… and I was scared. I mean… it is normal to be scared if you end up all alone on a different planet, right?”

Harry looks at you with red rimmed bleary eyes when you gasp in realization and disbelief.

“I was so so so scared. It was all my fault. I wanted to look closer so I got my cousins to fly the ship lower and lower. And then I was peeping out though we were never supposed to be this close to any planet without instructions. And I just… I think I miscalculated the force of gravity of Earth. I fell and everyone panicked and they kinda… left me. I mean, it was just my cousins actually, the elders didn’t even know, or else they’d never let us so close in the first place.”

“And it was so dark and after the metamorphosis, humans are really weak, no offense. I couldn’t see in the dark and it was freezing and I… was all alone. I don’t think I’d have survived if it weren’t for you guys. But I was just scared…. And by the time I got used to you, I didn’t know how you’d take it. So, I just waited.”

“Waited for?” You couldn’t stop yourself before asking.

“For you to find out.” He shrugged though he was anything but non chalant.

Harry’s eyes lingered on the both of you. A shocked you and an angry Ed, and he could feel another wave of fresh tears forming in his eyes and Ed chuckled dryly.

“And we did! Cheers mate.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry begged but you looked away.

You couldn’t let his big eyes, pout and broken voice get to you right now when you had a crisis in hand to handle. You looked at Ed who was already on his machine working something and you had an inkling of what it might be.

“What now?” Your question comes in a sharp breath, though you don’t feel as in control as you sound.

Ed sigh running his hands over his face and you couldn’t even imagine what he must be feeling right. You ignored the blabbering mess that Harry has reduced to as Ed frowns down at his equipment.

“I can try sending them a message telling them where to find us.”

He breathes out and your heart swells with pride for your brother as Harry stands still realizing that Ed indeed would help him out despite his personal feelings.

“You… You will do that for me?”

“I don’t know what you thought of me, mate. But I can never cause you any harm.”

You hold on to Ed’s arm feeling his anger pulsing under his skin.

“I… I really didn’t want to hurt you. Trust me.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you, Harry. The point is you never trusted us!” And your grip on him tightens with your own heart breaking at the thought.

“I don’t want to leave like this.” His voice watery as he looks at the both of you with pleading eyes.

Ed looks at you for a second and you, for the first time this whole evening, notice that it wasn’t anger at all that was coursing through him, but sadness.

“Then don’t leave.” Ed whispers looking at Harry that makes him gasp with a sob. And before you could blink, Harry launches himself on Ed enveloping him in a bear hug and Ed reciprocates as you see his face reddening with his own eyes brimming with tears.

You wait beside them grasping your chest as the impending farewell dawns upon you as well. But you don’t get to shed a tear as Ed looks at you from the side and invites you in their hug. You’re all a teary mess when there is a loud chaos outside.

You break away first to look at the home made analog clock sitting on the shelf.

“I’ll go look what’s happening, you both get working on the message.”

The words coming out of your mouth wilts something in you but Harry already knows that as he reaches up for your hand squeezes it and you offer him a small smile before you can break down already.

The noises from outside gets louder as Ed clears his throat getting your attention and lifts his chin directing you and you couldn’t help but roll his eyes at him.

It turns out that the noises were only getting louder because it was the whole village heading towards your house with torches and what seems like sticks and weapons and you shiver to your bones. It won’t have threatened you as much as it does if it weren’t the incoherent chants about your brother and his alien friend. You don’t know how they’d know if you both found out just right now. But then the crowd was led by Steve and you never expected him to follow logic anyway so it didn’t matter. You bolted across the house locking all doors and windows before heading back to warn the guys. But Steve already spotted you.

“Tell your brother his secret is out. You cannot hide that thing out here forever.”

You keep on reminding yourself that you don’t need to listen to him and your top priority right now is Harry and your brother’s safety but Steve always brought the worst out of you.

“If anything that should be hidden is your ugly mug.” You spat out.

“Always the feisty one, aren’t you? Go get that creature and hand him over to us or we’re burning down the house.”

You were done taking threats and you head out right to the front yard facing the crowd, staring down at their leader who was double your size.

“Try stepping into my Granddad’s house and see who’s the one burning into flames.”

This agitates the crowd into a chaos making Steve sneer at your helplessness as you are outnumbered. But you don’t care as long as you get to land a few on his smug face but you stop when your hear our name being called out from behind you and you turn to see Ed and Harry looking at the crowd.

“There is that pest. Get him!”

Ed grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him towards the forest though Harry’s eyes are trained on you as you try to ward off the crowd unsuccessfully. When at last you realize that you were clearly outnumbered and you couldn’t save them, you head towards the other way into the forest where they disappeared.

You can hear some people following you as well and you try to outrun them by taking the rough route that you are used to since your childhood. Anything that keeps them off Harry and Ed’s tail. And you are successful until you hear others through the woods and you don’t know where they are.

You stop to catch your breath and look back trying to locate the noises. Until someone bumps into you from the back and you turn around to see Ed about to scream and you have to clamp his mouth before he can.

“Ugh disgusting” you remove your hand when you could feel Ed’s tongue graze your hand and clean it on your cloth. He mutters an apology before looking up to watch the crowd on the other side who were still looking for them.

“Now what?”

“I have an idea.” Harry mutters before focusing on the opposite way.

“What are you on about?” Ed asks frustrated, fixing the strap of the bag that he is carrying.

But before Harry could reply the woods where he was looking at starts crackling and smoke fills the air. You watch the trees catch fire as Ed turns to Harry in awe, “Wow that was you?”

Harry shrugs, “I’ll teach yeh that the next time.”

“Wait; is that what you did to Steve in the market today?” Ed looks at Harry suspiciously. “We should go! We’ll be late!” Harry says with wide eyes as if he just got caught red handed.

“Wait, what?!” You ask totally lost on what the guys are talking about but you don’t get to ponder upon as the people on the other side notice the fire and erupt into shrieks followed by instructions.

Ed leads the way as Harry pushes your shoulder slightly in the direction to distract you from staring at the blazing forest fire and the people across it.

“Let’s go.”

///

You have no idea where you are heading as Ed leads the way and you reach a clearing. You people at last stop as Ed looks at his watch.

“They must be here anytime now.”

“Not so soon, bugger.”

You watch in terror as Steve crawls out of the woods drenched in water and out of breath. You look behind him but can’t see or hear anyone else. Relief washes over you as you check nobody was following him but not for long as you watch him head towards Harry with anger burning in his eyes.

“Do not go near him.” Ed threatens standing in front of Harry.

Steve’s eyes flicker between the both before bursting into laughter. “Or what? You’re gonna throw a punch, Edward?”

And you prepare to step up before you watch Ed pull back his arms.

“Oh piss off!” and with that he actually throws a punch knocking Steve out.

Ed stands there surprised by his own strength clasping his bleeding fist as Harry and you throw your arms around him in congratulatory hug.

Your shrieks of rejoice are soon overpowered by a strengthening breeze and increasing buzz from above as you turn around to watch the distant light growing brighter.

Ed turns to Harry, his arm around his neck as he squeezes his shoulder.

“You’re going home.”

Harry couldn’t help but bury his face on Ed’s shoulder with a silent “I’ll miss you.”

“yeah, right. Obviously you will. Who else will argue with you about penguins and octopus now?” he jokes but you can hear his voice cracking. “You are the best apprentice I can ever ask for.”

“Heeeey” you say with mock offense just to realize that you’re choking on tears as well.

“I thought you didn’t want to be my apprentice.” Ed says wrapping his other arm around you when Harry looks at you.

Your heart skips a bit as he smiles at you, his eyes looking right into yours. And you don’t know how will you ever let him go.

Ed backs off, awkwardly heading towards the approaching ship, for the first time ever giving you both privacy.

“I’ll miss you.”

You both say at the same time and burst out laughing before catching your breath and looking at each other again. Harry’s eyes slide down to your lips and there is the flutter in his chest again. He doesn’t know if he is allowed to, now that you know who he is. But you just roll your eyes with a smile, “Come on, now!” and pull him by the lapel of his shirt until his lips smashes on yours.

Your teeth knock and your nose bump and you both feel each other shake with  laughter. But soon taken by the warmth of your skin and the softness of his lips and the smell of your shampoo and the taste of his mouth, you couldn’t stop your fingers getting tangled in his curls as his hands rest on your waist. You tug his hair, he pinches your love handles and you have to pull away because you know that’s all you’ll ever get together.

He rests his forehead against yours and you breathe in the same air.

“You can be anyone you want” he whispers against your lips, his thump stroking your skin. “Just follow your heart, love. It might not always be right but you’ll never regret it. At last, that’s how I found you, the nicest person I know.”

He smirks repeating your once said words to you and you have to grip his shoulder because obviously he has to say something like that right before he leaves. But instead of allowing another tear to fall, you steal another kiss and pull away completely.

Ed stands there capturing photos of the ship that has landed twenty feet away from you and you have to hit him on the shoulder to stop being so inconsiderate.

“What?! He doesn’t mind.” You look up at Harry and he shrugs.

This was the least he could do to thank you both for everything.

You look up at the not so gigantic ship with all the intricate details that pretty much makes it look like a cartoon space ship, though not the typical one, as Ed hands Harry his bag and a last hug.

The door of the ship opens slowly, with the light increasing to a blinding point and Harry couldn’t contain his excitement anymore. There are the silhouettes of his people on the entryway to welcome him and he happily walks towards them with a pep in his steps.

Ed keeps on snapping photos and only stops to wave Harry bye before the door closes. And just like that, the ship prepares to take off.

You both look at it as it lifts off the ground with smiles on your face and tears in your eyes. Until there is a meek voice from behind. You turn around to see Steve looking at the ship as well, “What is…” And he faints again out of shock making you both burst into laughter.

///

Ed at last got the recognition from world renowned scientists and organizations. His research published into books and he was in news as the potential Noble recipient of the year. He credited his professor in his research and a certain curious child who couldn’t keep his hands off the radio and send random messages about banana and candy floss into the universe because of whom it all started. Among all the invitations of universities and research laboratories that he received, Ed got a lot of offers to choose from where to continue his research. But instead he opted to buy and transform his respected Professor’s house, his first research lab, into an institute and encourage young scientist to believe in their dreams. But only after a long and well deserved break in Hawaii.

Whereas for you, you at last decided on your major and went back to the social life you once had, now that Ed can afford real assistants to take care of him. You didn’t exactly take up writing as a livelihood, no. You were majoring in psychology to be able to understand how on earth your brother is still considered a human, though you might or might not have a secret stash of stories about unrequited love and fireflies.

But wherever you both are, one day every year, you both meet up in the small shack in the backyard of your granddad’s house to tune into the cosmic blur and listen about all the mishaps that goes on in the other end of the universe until your stomach aches from laughing and face hurts from smiling.

a/n: Shoutout to @twistofpayne for going through the 12K+ words of mess that it is, over and over again. And to the lovely @stylessemantics for keep on telling me that this isn’t completely crazy.

[gxldencity]

starlight

I have like two major wips to finish but you know what let's just work on this.

So a month ago I think, @pathfindersemail said something about Reyes and Ryder dancing to moonlight serenade and here's like my take on it.

Slightly NSFW at the end but nothing graphic. Something like 960 words so hah I didn't break 1K this time. (It counts as short!)

Anyway for those of you who don't know Jean is a non-Pathfinder Ryder who wakes up early and somewhere along falls in love with Reyes (im working on that part okay).

Another important fact cause I allude to them both in this drabble, Jean is Filipino (Tagalog specifically) and is an engineer.

Also im posting this in mobile and I always forget how to do cuts on mobile.

--

They sit in silence.

Reyes works. Jean doesn’t stop him-cannot stop him. For so long as Kadara’s heart beats, and life pulses from the port, Reyes is never done. He is the captain of this wayward ship-Kadara, sailing on the endless sea of time.

Jean sits. He does...nothing. His feet are propped up on the coffee table. He thrums a melody on his stomach, using the rhythm of his breathing as a metronome. Idleness usually makes him agitated. He needs to move; pace around the room as he concocts intricate plans and projects.

Reyes usually listens, always does. He’ll even listen to Jean talk nonsense.

Today, Jean has nothing.

And perhaps...he likes it-revels in it, having nothing. His mind rests, and he focuses on the small details. Like the lights in Reyes’ room are tinted pink or that Tartarus is surprisingly empty in the afternoon.

A data pad drops by his feet. Reyes stands in front of him.

“You seem bored,” he says.

“I am,” Jean agrees. “I like it.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with Jean Ryder?”

Jean laughs. He stands up, and snakes an arm behind Reyes’ hips. Jean pulls him close. “I’ll give you a hint.”

He leans down and captures Reyes’ lips. They taste sweet from the whiskey he had earlier, and distinctively Reyes which has Jean coming back for more. Reyes scrunches the back of Jean’s hoodie. He hums.

“Hmm...I’m convinced,” Reyes says when they part. Always flushed and breathless, like Jean has sucked the life out of him after every kiss.

Maybe he has, and that’s why he feels so full, so lively when Reyes is around. And he makes Jean do impossible things like revel in nothingness.

“I have an idea,” Reyes opens his Omni-tool. He scrolls through a list of songs, most are unfamiliar to Jean.

Moonlight Serenade is where Reyes stops. He selects it. A slow tune comes from the speakers. A waltz maybe? Or a ballad, Jean has no idea. But one thing he’s certain is what Reyes intends by the way Reyes looks at him.

“I thought I told you I don’t dance,” Jean says.

“You told me a lot of things,” Reyes counters, “some of which turned out to be untrue.”

“Like?”

“I hate you.”

“Fair enough,” Jean says simply, and lists it as one of the impossible things Reyes makes him do.

It’s the best thing Reyes has made Jean done. Love him. The galaxy is brighter with Reyes in Jean’s life. It makes him forget that this galaxy made him an orphan, or this galaxy made him watch his sister die.

Or the Archon, always the Archon.

“I still don’t dance,” Jean says again.

Reyes bows. He offers his hand. “Try me.”

Jean accepts, and Reyes spins him around, catching him by the hip. They sway, or Reyes attempts to make him sway, follow the rhythm of the tune with his feet.  

He fails. Their movements are awkward. Jean is almost a head taller than Reyes, he should be the one leading.

Except Jean has one undeniable fact about him which is obvious now if Reyes ever wants him to try again.

Jean cannot dance.

He knows how electrons travel inside a transistor, can say Asimov’s laws of robotics  like a prayer but dancing is never him.

To salvage what little romance remains in their dance, Reyes wraps himself around Jean. He sways them. They are close, too close. Jean feels the steady beat of Reyes’ heart on his own, as if theirs are connected by a red thread.

It’s making love without the making, but Jean doesn’t need to be gasping at the sheets, begging Reyes for more to make. They simply do.

The song stops. Reyes replaces it with a melody in Spanish. He pretends Jean cannot understand a single word. More romantic that way, he once told Jean. Jean thinks it’s less, more if they can speak love in a language aside from English.

They can communicate love in four different languages, five if they count love as its own universal language. Jean wants them to communicate in six, wants Reyes to know how ibig and mahal are stronger than love or amo.

In another time, Reyes will sing it to him too, under a canopy of constellations. They are the audience to their performance, glittering in the night sky while Jean looks over a window.

It’ll be just like the old vids.

In another time, they may not be together. An ocean divides them both, and so do the ills of their lands.

Reyes stops humming. He brings their lips together, deeper this time-hungrier. He leads Jean to the sofa, not once leaving his lips.

When they tumble on the sofa, Reyes removes his shirt. He pauses and allows Jean to marvel at the curves of his body. It’s not perfect, not the chiseled, muscular torsos Jean sees in those extranet sites.

He's beautiful, Jean thinks, always. He leaves Jean desperate and wanting; always like their first and not their fifteenth.

Reyes dives back to his lips. He pulls, bites, tugs until Jean is gasping for air. Reyes gives, he always does.

“Don’t you have work to do,” Jean says in-between.

“I do,” he growls. The sound sends a shockwave through Jean’s body.

“Then?”

“Then...” Reyes crawls back and straddles his hips. Desperate fingers work on removing Jean’s pants. With one swift motion, Reyes shucks them off, dropping them on the floor.

Jean shivers. The coolness of the room trails goosebumps on his skin. In contrast, Reyes’ fingers are like hot metal, trailing a fire from his stomach to his arousal. He whimpers, and bucks his hips when Reyes hooks a finger underneath his waistband.

“Consider this distraction,” Reyes says as he drags Jean’s underwear down.

He gives Jean something to think about.

[immabewriting]

Five Teachers Walk Into A Bar...  -Chapter 4

A/N: OMG another update can I get a boo ya??? As always please and review and one more thing: I am currently on the hunt for a beta to help me edit my story and stuff like that so if you’re interested in that just message me or send me an ask. Thanks! And now on with the date!!

"Kaylee I have nothing to wear!" Nancy exclaims throwing dresses and blouses on the bed. This date was in 2 hours and she had nothing to wear, her hair looked atrocious, she couldn't find her favorite shoes, and to top it off her favorite lipstick melted in the car! And Kaylee was no help whatsoever.

Kaylee laughs, "You're stressing out way too much about this. Relax, it's just a date!"

"I haven't been on one since before May was born, I'm like a rusty sink!" May retorts.

"Oh wow yea, you should be worried."

"Kaylee you suck."

"I'm kidding!" Kaylee says walking over to Nancy. "Come on let me help you."

 They went over her closet for thirty minutes before deciding on a red, skater dress; it was breezy and casual, perfect for a picnic. Kaylee helped curl her hair into soft, effortless waves. Some mascara, a little eyeliner and red lipstick later she was ready.

"You look hot. And I'm not saying that because I'm your cousin." Kaylee comments.

"You really think so?" Nancy asks again while looking in the mirror.

"May! Can you come here?" Kaylee called out. Little May bounded down the hall to the room.

"Ya kaylee?" May asks.

"Doesn't mommy look pretty?" Kaylee asks her. May looks at Nancy and her jaw drops. Literally.

"Mommy! You look like the prettiest princess in the entire world!" She exclaims. Kaylee and Nancy chuckle and Nancy hugs May, "Thanks Mayflower."

Just then the doorbell rang and all three of them turned their heads in the direction of the door.

"AH!" Nancy yells. Kaylee and May run to the door to answer it. And there was Chris standing there in a button down and some nice jeans.

"Mr. Evans!" May exclaims, Chris smiles and waves.

"Hi May, how are you?" He asks.

"I'm great! Kaylee made me mac and cheese!"

"Yes I did." Kaylee says. It was honestly a miracle she didn't burn down the kitchen. Chris turns to Kaylee and extends his hand, "I don't believe we've met, I'm Chris."

Oh I know all about you Mr. Evans hehe. "I'm Kaylee, Nancy’s cousin. It's nice to meet you." Kaylee answers. Wow he was beefy; USDA prime beefy beefy-ness.

"Are you sure you're not a lumberjack?" Kaylee asks him. He laughs.

"Yea, pretty sure." He answers.

"Kaylee stop Harassing Chris!" Nancy shouts walking into the room.

Now Chris had heard about how time froze when you saw your soulmate for the first time and granted this wasn’t the first time he saw her, but when he saw her it was like the world stopped. The universe somehow telling him, ‘this is it. This is who you’re supposed to be with.’ And if the universe was telling him that then he probably should listen.

“You look beautiful,” he says.

She blushes, “Thanks you look pretty nice too.”

“Very nice.” Kaylee commented. Nancy groans, “I’m so sorry about her.”

Chris chuckles, “Its okay I have sisters too. Um, you ready to go?”

Nancy nods, “Yea, just give me a sec!” she turns to Kaylee and May going over house rules, babysitting instructions, what to do in case Kaylee set the stove on fire (again) and making sure to give May two big hugs and a goodbye kiss.

“If anything happens call me!” Nancy tells them.

“We got it, don’t burn the house down! Now go on your date!” Kaylee says slowly kicking Nancy out. They say their goodbyes and leave.

“Don’t burn the house down…?” Chris asks.

“Kaylee and our stove don’t get along.” Nancy explains.

“Ah, well she seems responsible. I’m sure nothing will happen.” Chris assures her. She smiles at him and nods.

“So, um where are we going?” she asks him.

“Its this place called Scenic Cinema. They play movies outdoors on this huge projector and its really nice for a picnic or a date.” He tells her.

“Ooh cool beans!”

“Mhmm, You’re not allergic to anything right?”

“Nope, I will eat almost anything, except bananas I hate bananas.”

“What?! What did bananas ever do to you?”

“They taste terrible! And the shape? I mean come on you can’t take anyone seriously eating a banana.”

“You just have a dirty mind.”

“Maybe, but I still hate bananas.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that there are no bananas in this picnic basket.” He informs her. She giggles, “Good or I would’ve gotten out of the car.”

They drove to the outdoor theater and parked. It was a wonderful, sunny day perfect for picnic and a movie. They found a perfect spot near a tree and enjoyed the show…

“That ending was terrible! Why would they kill her?” Nancy exclaims.

“Because they had to, she was the accomplice!” Chris argues.

“No, they could’ve kept her for information, now they have nothing and have to find the thief on their own with some stupid evidence.” She retorts. They had just finished the movie and there were some mixed review about it. She hated it, he liked it, and discussion ensued.

“Well yea but the letters had some clues they could use.”

“And the woman who was his accomplice for five years didn’t?” she retorts.

“Okay, you got me there.” He agrees. They were walking around the town center that was surrounded by little shops, and restaurants and bakeries making it feel cozy and cute and perfect for an after movie walk and talk. “So, what do you do?” he asks.

“Oh! I’m an editor for the LA Times.” She tells him.

“Wow, that’s really cool! Is there a section in particular you run?”

“The Op-Ed section. Its pretty neat, kind of tiring at times.” She says.

“How so?” he asks.

“Well a lot of our pieces need to be proofread a bunch of times and sometimes people email us asking why we didn’t put their piece in the paper and guess who gets to deal with that.” She says pointing at herself.

“Ouch, yea that must suck.” He says.

“Yea but I love it, everyone has a story or something to say and I think we should hear it." She says. He smiles, "That's a nice way of looking at the world."

She blushes, god she hadn't felt like this in a long time. What was that feeling called? The feeling of blushing for all the good reasons, the feeling of good butterflies; was there a term for that feeling? Because she was certainly feeling it right now.

They kept walking and talking. It got cooler and eventually he gave her his jacket like a true gentleman.

"Ooh, a bookstore! I haven't seen this here it must be new!" She says excitedly. Nancy calm down, don't let your nerd show.

"Wanna go in?" He asks. She looks at him and grins and runs in a little too fast. He smiles and follows behind her, happy to be along for the ride.

It had been 20 minutes since Chris saw Nancy and he was hoping she didn’t run off. He thought the date was going well, great even.

“Nancy?” he called out wandering the aisles of the bookstore.

“Yea?” a voice calls out. He runs in the direction of the voice and finds her behind a stack of books. She peeks out from behind the stack, “Ready to go?”

“Are you buying all those?” he asks.

“Yea of course, you’re only getting two books?” she asks him.

        “Um, yes?”

        “Okay,” she says and walks over to the cashier to purchase her books. “They’re not all for me, some are for May and one is for Kaylee.”

        “I wish I could read as many books as that.” He says.

        “Well trust me I wasn’t always like this.”

        “What changed?” he asks her. She was quiet for a moment then said, “When I was, thirteen my dad died.”

        “I’m so sorry,” he says.

        “Its okay, books were kind of my escape from reality. It really helped with the grief and depression and stuff.” She explains.

        “Wow,” he says.

        “Not exactly first date material.”

        “No no it’s okay, it’s great.” Awkward. “Um, will you recommend some books for me?” he asks. She looks at him and a huge grin breaks out on her face. She takes his hand and they go down the aisles of the bookstore looking for all the books she loved as a thirteen year old and beyond. By the end of the hour he had a stack as big as hers. They walked back to the car with two big bags of books and holding hands.

        “This was really nice. I had a lot of fun.” She says. They were at her doorstep now enjoying the last few minutes of the perfect night.

        “I’m glad you had fun because I had fun too.” He replies.

She smiles, “You know the only way you’re going to get this jacket back is if you take me on another date.”

        He laughs hard, “Okay, I’ll do you one better.”

        “And what would that be Mr. Evans?”

        He comes closer, “Its Chris,”

        “Oh sorry what would that be Chris?” she asks coming closer till they were a breath apart.

        He smirks and whispers, “I’ll give you a second date and a kiss.”

        She giggles, “What was stopping you from kissing me before?” He smiles, cups her cheek, and they both lean in and kiss. It was soft, slow and sweet. His hand travelled up her back sending a shiver down her spine. He smiles against her lips and pulls her closer, her hands wrap around his neck. It was perfect. A perfect end to a perfect date with the perfect guy.

Tag list: @notsomolly, @linzinator, @boxfullofcats, @blown-transistor, @seattlite09, @shhiminmybluecastle, @emarich7, @othersideofforty @laughing-baubo, @nerdmom42, @lilydale-chicken, @theshortbuthappyone, @survivingstudentlife, @pretty-sexy-silly-mismash, @toc1985, @lokilockedcougar,  @purelyvictorious, @stephenmcfeely, @reblogiwill, @mrsblofeld, @ladyvic3, @au-revoir-la-dignite

Next Chapter

[ecotone99]

[RF] How I Learned About Music (w.i.p.)

How I Learned about Music

I. Aluminum Cans - Killer Queen

Late summer, 1976. Hot. My cousin Stevie and I are at his grandmother's house for the day, and we're bored as hell. There's nothing to do. The beach is close by, so we ask and are given permission to walk over there. So we do. I grab my little transistor radio and we head out. Cutoff jean-shorts, sandals, shirtless, we walk together along the side of the quiet road to the beach. It's all forest and sand dunes down around there.

We never did make it to the beach. Only the parking lot.

Bored 9 year-old boys in late summer are incredibly creative in entertaining themselves. Only like 4 channels on TV, 1 of them fuzzy as shit and a religious channel anyway… no cartoons... so, for starters we go outside. Inevitably something cool will present itself, right?

The closer we get to the beach, the better the radio station comes in. WLS AM89 outta Chicago, 90 miles away across Lake Michigan. They're doing a marathon. A band called Queen. Sounds pretty good to my ear.

"Uncle Roach says Queen is excellent."

I don't listen to much that Stevie says, because he's dumb and he's not really my cousin. He's just my dad's best friend's kid. I don't like him. His older sister is super pretty, though. Michelle. I like Michelle. She's nice. She made us pancakes one time.

My dad lives at Stevie's house in the basement. He's out today working with Stevie's dad, who is named, get this... Steve. My mom works too, so I go there during the days and we get dropped off at grandma's.

All this summer, I've never seen Stevie's grandma. She's really sick or something upstairs. It's pretty much Roach's place. It's weird.

"She keeps Moet and Chandon, in a pretty cabinet."

No idea what this guy is singing about, but it sounds kinda neat.

"Let them eat cake she says, just like Marie Antoinette."

Nonsense. But I sorta like nonsense.

"Roach says they're almost as cool as Zeppelin."

Whoa. I listened to that.

Everyone knows Zeppelin. Uncle Roach even has a drumset out in the garage behind grandma's house because of Zeppelin, and a big poster. We don't really go out there much. It smells gross, and Roach is weird. He said, if you look through the little window at sunset, you can see a witch standing in there.

No way, man. I ain't looking.

Stevie and I get to the parking lot at the beach, and find our day's mission. In a trash barrel right there, we find an empty Coors beer can. It's gold with a sweet picture of a mountain on it. And there's a Coke can in there too.

The guitars on this song are cool. And the singing is great. Not tough-guy like Zep, but... pretty?

"She's a killer, Queen."

"Dynamite like a laser beam," I understood that part. Laser beam... cool.

We decide we're doing a can collection. This merits another note about the minds of 9 year old boys.

Set free into the world to just explore, everything can be an adventure. An old tire is worth a full day's effort, and there may be salamanders or a snake under there. You find a baseball in the woods, that’s sacred treasure, and who knows, there might be more. Good shaped stick? You got yourself a magical staff, brother, or a sword. Everything is a story.

That day, Stevie and I found two aluminum cans. And we found Queen.

We took the cans back to grandma's and set them on the rock wall in the garden.

“She's all out to get you...”

“She's a Killer... Queen”

Stevie ran inside and got a grocery bag. Then we traipsed the road end to end checking every trashcan and bush along the way. The beach, the church, the high school parking lot, the weird old A-Frame apartment complex by the beach, the spot in the woods where the big kids hide out to smoke and keep the Playboy stash, the restaurant (that was a bonanza!)

By the end of the afternoon, some 4 hours later, we had like 40 cans in that bag. All kinds of them! We stacked them into a pyramid in Stevie's grandma's garden. Roach even came out and said it looked cool. My dad arrived later, said it was stupid, and made us throw them all away.

Didn't matter. It was fun, and as far as I was concerned, it was mainly about the doing of it.

For most of that adventure WLS AM89 was playing Queen. I don't remember the other songs they played. Except for Killer Queen. I remembered that one. It sounded to me like a combination of bright sunshine, Stevie's invisible grandma with her sculpted garden wall, pretty Michelle, Uncle Roach's drumset with a witch standing next to it, and a hot summer day collecting cans to make a pyramid.

Oh, and I forgot, Stevie got stung by a bee in the garden. His thumb swelled up and he cried.

“Guaranteed to blow your mind.”

A good day.

.

II - Houseboat - You’re My Best Friend

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