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The Jonicles - Entry 27: The One Where I Rank How Sexy Each Jon Is (Part 1)

DAAAAAMN HIS ASS THO ^^

(image courtesy of @outofcontextgarf!!)

It is currently the 15th of October, 2022 at 12:24 pm on a Saturday. Next week will bring a never-ending avalanche of worthless exams (like, 5 of them) that will most definitely cause a mental break, so why not write this entry and the next now before the insanity hits? It is also day #149 of my Jon Arbuckle hyperfixation!!

I think it's been well established that I love Jon, and you've surely all read entries 8 and 15 by this point. I'm gonna be upfront and say that Jon Arbuckle is quite the dashing and handsome fellow! His dorky, fatherly and unashamedly him sort of demeanor is something I really love about him, not to mention the relaxed look in his eyes he always seems to have (especially in the early strips). And don't even get me started on how THICK this man is! All and all, Jon is a man of attraction to me. So it would only be reasonable to, in the midst of my ever-so-strong Jon hyperfixation, to compare and contrast each iteration of Jon from one another in a sort of contest to see which Jon is the hottest of them all. This will be split into two parts: The main comic strip being part one, and the other media being part two. Yes I have gone completely insane, let's do this!!

How will this work? Well, there's a criteria for every aspect of Jon, whether it be physical or related to his personality. Here, I'll list them:

Source material (Comics, cartoons, games, movies etc.) - No points

The era each Jon iteration is from (late 70s - early 80s, 80s, 90s, 2000s, 'Jon' era etc.) - No points

Physical attributes (How big the eyes are, his hair, whether his anatomy and proportions are more cartoony or realistic, pants colour (trust me it matters) etc.) - 1-10 points (combined because i dont know how to count)

How thick he is (Flat as a board or thick as a baker's dozen) - 1-10 points

His voice acting (Thom Huge, Wally Wingbert etc.) - 1-10 points (cartoon/voice acted games exclusive)

Uniqueness (Details/quirks that are special to that specific iteration of Jon such as art style and physical quirks) - 1-10 points

Personal significance (If the era/iteration of Jon is one I grew up with or have a special emotional connection to) - 1-5 points

Personality (more goofy than serious, more unhinged than relaxed, more fatherly than simply being a pet owner etc.) - 1-20 points

Any other interesting bits of information that make him more or less attractive - Any extra bonus points

Each bit of criteria will then have its points added in a general score out of 65 + whatever bonus points I may give, and that final score will decide which Jon is truly the hottest out of them all (at least to me anyway)! I'll try my best to find every piece of official Garfield media I can and will be avoiding any fan media like fan comics and animations and any derivative fan media like Garfield Minus Garfield, Square Root Of Minus Garfield and ZALGO strips that would be redundant to include. Now that I've got that all out of the way, let's start!

First of all, let's start with the most well-known iteration of Mr. Arbuckle, that being the Garfield comic strip. Everyone's seen at least one Garfield strip in their life and Jon, arguably being the main guy is a major part of what makes the comic what it is. The Garfield comic had its humble beginnings in 1978* and it looked very different from the strip many in our generation grew up with, Jon's eyes being much smaller and his proportions being much lankier than they are now. Let's start with late 70s - early 80s Jon, shall we?

1978 - 1984

Physical attributes - For starters, Jon's eyes are very small and beady and are much higher up on his head, making for an unusual sight for people who are unfamiliar with the strip's early works. Jon's nose is much higher up as well as a result, making his philtrum (the groove on the face that connects the nose and mouth) incredibly long. Jon's head is quite narrow and slender, making for plently of space for smooching and to hold his head in your hands and give him the loving tender care he deserves. Jon looks very tall and thin in this iteration of the strip, probably the skinniest and scrawniest he's ever been, but I like 'em skinny and scrawny anyway. Jon's hair is still as curly as it's ever been, but it's visibly flatter and has a sort of fringe at the front, certainly an interesting detail that adds a uniqueness to this iteration of Jon that I haven't seen past the late 70s as, unfortunately, this little detail about Jon seems to have vanished into the 80s. Throughout the majority of the early strips, Jon's pants are a nice pitch black which honestly looks quite nice on him. Something about it makes him look taller in a way. This is possibly the most human-like Jon has looked in the strip* and I like that in a way. Therefore, I give the physical attributes of 1978 - 1984 Jon a solid 7 out of 10. Not bad for a start, not at all!

How thick he is - You know, for the start of the strip, Jon is pretty thick. Whilst his ass doesn't stick out as much as the late 80s, he still has a considerable amount of cake stored back there, and to say that he's flat would be a big lie. It's still there when he's simply standing upright which is extremely pleasing, meaning he doesn't even have to put in effort to have a big ass. Overall, I give Jon's ass a 6 out of 10. That's a pretty nice ass!

Uniqueness - This era of Jon is probably the most unique out of the bunch as this was when 'Garfield' had just evolved from a small Pendleton Times strip to a more mainstream comic, meaning that Jon has many little design quirks and is rough around the edges as his design evolved from strip to strip. He, as stated earlier, is also the skinniest and lankiest of the bunch, making him very unique in that suit, not to mention his hair fringe. Overall, the uniqueness of early Jon has to be a 9 out of 10. An incredibly unique Jon to behold, I say!

Personality - In the early strips, Jon was much more serious and level-headed. Yeah, he still had plently of dorky moments and was a hopeless romantic when it came to Liz, but in terms of general attitude, Jon was a lot more relaxed and witty. He even comes off as a little more sophisticated, looking cool and calm, sometimes even having his hands positioned in a "tent" like a villain or something, haha! He's loving towards Garfield, but he's also cheeky and cunning, tricking Garfield into having a bath by saying it's soup and teasing him with a puppet that calls him fat (unrelated but i had a very similar dog puppet as a child... maybe i am jon....). He often looks directly at the reader, usually to emphasise a punchline, though in the first strip, he politely introduces him and Garfield to the reader, showing him to be a gentle, respectable and polite man. He's also more introverted, as even when talking to someone as close to him as Lyman, Jon enjoys a lot of his time alone, reading a book, usually with his cat. While Jon is more level-headed in these strips, He is still easy to provoke, easily startled and can lose his cool quickly when things go wrong or when Garfield annoys him, though a detail to be noted here is that Jon yells and shouts a lot less. Jon, while he is more serious and calm in this era, is certainly not a boring character at all, as his politefulness, main character tendancies and loveable charming attitude make him a 17 out of 20 in terms of personality! A very likeable fellow indeed, I'd love to chat with him!!

Personal Significance - While I mainly grew up reading comic strips from the mid to late 80s, I have read plenty of early 80s and even a few late 70s strips as a child and I hold them very dear to my heart. Therefore, in terms of nostalgia and what Garfield strips would ultimately shape my view of who Jon is to me, this era of Jon is one of very personal significance to me. He's special to me and therefore is one of the most ideal Jons to me (i believe i've talked about this before...). Overall, the personal significance is a 5 out of 5 for his importance in my early Garfield endeavors.

Extra details - Looks like he's the most likely Jon to have a conversation to about the existensial parts of life, I'm giving him and extra 5 points just for that.

So, with all those decided, what score do I give 1978-1984 Jon overall? Including bonus points, this era of Jon would be a solid 49 out of 65. Not bad, not bad at all! That's quite an attractive Jon actually, great DILFing man!

1985 -1989

Physical attributes - Since the early 80s, Jon's appearance had been quickly evolving to give him a much larger eye shape that takes up more of his face, though his eyes still aren't as exaggerated as they are in the 90s. They still have quite a lot of roundness in them which is something I personally like quite a lot. Jon's head shape has also quickly changed as well, being less narrow and more round, still plenty of space to hold and smooch! Whilst the fringe has long disappeared, Jon's hair is still as curly and bouncy as ever and seems to have doubled in how much there is, and with how chubbier Jon's face is, there's plenty of it to pat. Jon is also still relatively narrow, though his proportions are a lot less realistic. For instance, Jon's head compared to his torso is much bigger in size, his hands have gotten slightly puffier and he appears to have more of a general silhouette now as he evolves. Jon's also way more expressive than he was back in the late 70s, his bigger eyes allowing for a much higher range of wacky expressions for him to make. His pants are still black, though his blue slacks do make ocassional appearances from time to time. From behind he looks particularly attractive, his head being in a sort of chibi shape, his shoulders looking broad, he just generally looks powerful and handsome from the back for some reason. This Jon, to me, is arguably one of the most recognisable and is the Jon I think of when someone mentions his name and is also the era of Jon I used and studied as a reference to develop how I draw him. Therefore, Jon is a fantastic 10 out of 10 in terms of his appearance! What a handsome fellow!!! ;)

How thick he is - Oh my goodness, this Jon is a THICK Jon. You know how in entry 15 I mentioned that the panel of Jon having a stroke while taking lasagna out of the oven is from the mid 80s? Yup, Jon is thick as FUCK in this era. Like, his ass is always just there and it is magnificent. The man doesn't need effort to make his ass look fantastic, it just is that way. Therefore, I officially give his ass a solid 10 out of 10; a fantastic, perfect rump capable of putting even JFK to shame!

Personality - The 80s is where Jon's personality starts to shift and change. In the 80s, Jon is still our favourite cat dad and carries much of his personality from the early 80s to the late 80s. He still has moments of seriousness, but he's a lot more of a dork and a goof than he was in the late 70s. Jon also has way more moments of forgetfulness and being unorganised, such as the strips that have the punchline of Jon forgetting to sort out his fridge and being unaware that his tie is in his coffee. The 80s was also the time where Jon went on a lot more dates with people outside of Liz, showing Jon's evolving willingness to step outside of his comfort zone. Jon still remains quite sane in the 80s, though he tends to become panicked and angered a lot more often (relatable) than he did before. One thing I really like about Jon is just how caring an energetic he is, and there's not a better example of that than in the 80s. While Jon may snap at Garfield from time to time, Jon shows that he's incredibly caring towards his beloved cat, treating him almost as his son and taking him places for holiday. Although Jon is energetic and exciteable, Jon also shows a lot more lethargy and tiredness which suggests some underlying form of possible depression which adds yet another layer to his character. This is also the time period that cemented Jon as a little bit of an unlucky chap, but not to the point where he's completely miserable, which I like. Overall, 80s Jon is a loving family man with a heart of gold, and though he may have outbursts sometimes, they never last long, and Jon is still that loveable polite man he has been since the beginning, which is why I give Jon's personality an 18 out of 20!

Uniqueness - For it's time, 80s Jon is quite unique. For starters, the art style of 'Garfield' was pretty cemented here, being a sort of base for how the art would evolve and change over the years, so Jon here has a very unique appearance. This was also the time in which his hair changed shape into a much curlier and bouncier look, also serving as a base for how his hair would look in the future. This was also one of the first times Jon's personality developed a lot from how he was at the beginning of the strip, adding more layers upon layers that really developed Jon and made him feel like more of a real person than just a funny cartoon guy and that, to me, is super attractive. I rate Jon's uniqueness a 4 out of 5, quite an original lad for his time and one that I'll never forget!!

Personal significance - If you've read many of the entries, you'll know that 80s Jon is a huge part of my heart and my childhood 'Garfield' exposure. 80s Jon was the one I saw in my dad's comic books. 80s Jon was the one I saw on screen whenever I'd watch 'Garfield And Friends', the Halloween special and 'Garfield In The Rough'. 80s Jon is the Jon I still enjoy when rewatching my favourite specials and 80s Jon is the one I go for when reading strips I haven't seen before. 80s Jon was the Jon I grew up with and the Jon I know. Therefore it goes without saying that 80s Jon is a 5 out of 5 in personal significance because he means so much to me and is the one I relate to the most! I love 80s Jon man :)

Extra details - That "Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food" edit still has me rolling, 6 extra points for my boy he deserves it

Alright, time to roll in the score for my favourite cartoonist! Including the bonus points, 80s Jon gets a solid score of 53 out of 65 on the sexymeter! Alriiiight, Jonny Boy! That's one hell of a sexyman if I do say so myself! You deserve it, buddy! :D amen!!

1990 - 1999

Physical attributes - In the early 90s, Jon looks very similar to how he does in the mid to late 80s. However, over time there have been subtle changes to his appearance, especially his eyes. I said that 80s Jon really cemented the way he looks in modern times, but to give credit to 90s Jon, a lot of what people think of when they think of Jon are his more egg-shaped eyes that came in the 90s. Jon's figure continues to become more cartoony and exaggerated, his appearance having not changed too much for the majority of the 90s as I believe Jim Davis found a comfortable style to stick with for quite a while. His head is even more circular and round than before, and whilst his eyes are massive, there's still plenty of space to smooch and cuddle! Jon's also waaayyy more expressive in the 90s, as in every panel Jon is just bursting with expression and I really like that! He faces the front a lot more and gives the reader a very good view of his loveable little face. Jon's curly hair now has more of a defined shape and again as seemed to have multiplied in amount, making for ample head-petting abilities. Plus, it just looks really nice to pat and run your hands through, it looks soft. Jon has also become visibly chubbier and less lanky which kinda makes him look a little shorter than before and his back arches out more, though he still retains much of his limb skinniness and those glorious muscular legs of his. Oh yeah, I didn't mention that did I? Jon's muscular legs appear much more frequently coming the late 90s and 2000s and I must say they look quite dashing. Jon never skips leg day and that's solid proof! Jon's pants are still a nice sleek black, though as the 90s progresses, you begin to see a lot more of his darker blue slacks making more appearances. With all that said, 90s Jon gets a solid 9 out of 10 in appearance! Truly handsome lad if I do say so myself, I reckon!

How thick he is - It excites me greatly to see that Jon is even thicker than he was in the 80s. Just look at his ass! Talk about not needing effort, it's a force that truly cannot be stopped nor shaken... At least figuratively, hah... Ahem, anyway, Jon's ass ROCKS! 9 out of 10!

Personality - Jon's personality in the 90s is really interesting. His dorkiness has seemed to increase a LOT and more punchlines place him at the centre of it all. This is also the decade of Jon talking endlessly about little thoughts that come to his head or memories he's had as a child, something I relate to a lot and also something I enjoy! More Jon is always a great thing in my book, I love learning more about him from his own first-hand accounts of his life! Over the years, Jon's patience has slowly been waning the more tricks Garfield pulls on Mr. Arbuckle. He lashes out more and generally seems a lot more nervous and panicky, not to mention his mood swings which indicate a significant loss of sanity. Jon's apathy has also increased and he's become a lot more desperate for a date, which really concerns me, since this specific detail marks the beginning of Jon's descent into near-madness from how badly he wants someone to love and to be loved himself. Jon's also more airheaded and doesn't pay a lot of attention to what's going on around him as often, which leads him to getting pranked a lot easier by Garfield and Odie. However, Jon is still as cunning as ever, often pranking Garfield back, stealing his food that one time and sawing holes into tables and floors to psyche his cat out. Jon's personality during this time period is also really fun to analyse as he has so many little quirks and behaviourisms that are great to study and use to get a better grasp at just how to develop his character when writing stuff. Therefore, I give the personality of 90s Jon an 18 out of 20!

Uniqueness - There isn't too much to say about 90s Jon that can't be said about 80s Jon. They're quite similar, although 90s Jon is a little more unhinged than 80s Jon is. On top of that, 90s Jon does develop his character a lot more and is a big part of why I headcanon him as having ADHD, but apart from that, not too much. I give 90s Jon a 3 out of 5 in terms of uniqueness, but that doesn't mean I dislike 90s Jon at all; far from that in fact!!

Personal significance - All my dad's 'Garfield' comic books are from the 80s, so I can't say that 90s Jon has too much significance. However, he still has some significance in a weird way. I remember discovering 'Garfield Minus Garfield', and even though I said I wouldn't include fanworks, a lot of the GMG strips I read were from the late 90s, as this was a time where the Web 2.0 was still kinda young, so a lot of 90s comics made it into GMG. But apart from that, 90s Jon doesn't have too much personal significance, so I'll give him a 5 out of 10. Doesn't mean he's not special though!!

Extra details - hehe jon drank dog cum 7 points

And what do the final results say about our curly-haired sexyman? Including the bonus points, 90s Jon gets a nice 51 out of 65! That's fantastic, Jon! I'm proud of you, man!

2000 - 2009

Physical attributes -To be honest, 2000s Jon is myleast favourite out of the bunch (not to say i dislike him though!!). Not in appearance though, especially in the early 2000s! He looks really cute! His head is nice and round and I'd love to hold it in my hands... like putty in my hands! His hair still looks curly and bouncy as ever, though I find it odd how compared to Jon's head in the later strips, his hair looks a little bit less? It's not too big of a deal, but I just wanna run my hands through his hair and now it's lessening... He's going bald! Jokes aside though, Jon's still super expressive and I've noticed that he makes his signature snarky expression a lot more, which is always amusing and adorable!! Whenever he smiles, especially his little devious grins, it ends up being incredibly contageous and I smile too! Jon looks a little chubbier as well which is admittedly pretty adorable, he looks huggable and it just melts my heart :). As I said before, Jon's meaty ass legs are still here, and boy are they meaty! I think leg day is a strong suit of Jon's! Also, Jon's pants have officially changed from black to blue, and honestly? They look nice! I prefer the sleek black colour more, yes, but the blue looks nice on him!! Overall, 2000s Jon gets a 7 out of 10! Pretty handsome!!

How thick he is - One constant of life that will always remain true is that Jon will always be thick as a bakery. Like DAAAAAMN WHAT THAT ASS DO!?!? 8 out of 10, babey!!

Personality - You know, 2000s Jon has really strayed from what 70s Jon was and it's interesting. 2000s Jon seems like an entirely different guy (apart from still being sexy as fuck). He's way less chill than he was before and is it me or does he seem a lot more erratic and angry? It worries me how angry Jon can get, even to the point of really shouting at Garfield. He seems way more nervous and depressed too, he talks so much more about how much his life stinks, the poor guy can't seem to catch a break when he gets a date, if he gets a date... Speaking of dates, Jon's also way more desperate to get one, which is also concerning. He seems to place his entire value on getting a date and I just... I just really wanna hug him... Jon is really loving to his family though, he still keeps in contact with his parents and brother on the farm and still loves Garfield and Odie, even if he gets pissed off with the former a lot more. He's also incredibly loving towards Liz, who he finally got to be with romantically after so long (i'm super proud of him!!!)! He's also still the loveable dork he's always been, even more so now! He's a chatterbox and always has something to say, he loves expressing his love for the accordion and his other niche interests and hobbies, why does everyone seem to hate him!? He's quite unlucky, but he's loveable nonetheless!! For that, I give 2000s Jon a 17 out of 20 in personality!! A frustrated yet loveable DILF who might be slightly insane; my favourite kind!!

Uniqueness - 2000s Jon is unique in the way that his personality is yet again more developed. This is probably the lowest his sanity has been in ages, and the 2000s cemented Jon as the strips' butt monkey, something which depresses me since Jon is so much more than that. It also cemented Jon's dwindling mental health in the Garfield fandom, something I'm interested in, but also depresses me a little because I just want Jon to be okay and happy. Overall, I rate 2000s Jon a 3 out of 5 in uniqueness to other Jons.

Personal significance - Ahh, the 2000s. That was my decade, I was born in that one! So I must have some sort of personal attachment to that era of Jon, right..? Not really, actually! And that's really surprising too, seeing as how I grew up in the early 2000s and liked Garfield. But as said before, 80s Jon was my Jon, and I don't remember reading many of the 2000s strips as a kid, so 2000s Jon doesn't really have too much personal significance to me, unless you want to include GMG again. Though I do have an attachment to Garfield's Scary Scavenger Hunt by proxy of me having a huge attachment to old Flash games, so what the heck, I'll give him credit that!!! So, 2000s Jon only has a 3 out of 5 rating, but that doesn't mean he isn't special to me at all! He just wasn't that prominent or present in my childhood, is all!!

Extra details - He's so cute when he has his eyes wide open and he's smiling, he looks so happy and joyful! 8 bonus points!!

How did 2000s Jon do? Well, according to this calculator I searched up on Google, 2000s Jon gets a 46 out of 65, including bonus points! Kinda low, but not bad at all! 2000s Jon may have ranked lower than most, but that doesn't mean I don't love him at all; I love him a LOT!! You did great, Jon! I'm proud of you!! :D

2010 - 2019

Physical attributes - In the early 2010s, Jon looked a little... Weird? Like not in a bad way, but I think it's the fact that his hair looks smaller, his face just looks taller y'know? However, as the art styke yet again continues to evolve, his hair begins to return, and now I can run my fingers through his locks once again! Not to mention that his face is still quite chubby and round, giving ample space for him to rest his head in anyone's hands. And it's either the framing or Jon's gotten taller because man, does he tower over the kitchen table! I like a man who's tall... But then again I also really like short gremlin men... But! Seeing tall Jon again is exciting and always a welcome sight!! I don't really have much else to say other than this Jon? Pretty good Jon! And my, does he look lovely when he smiles! I'll give 2010s Jon a solid 7 out of 10!!

How thick he is - Glad to know Jon's still thick as ever! That ass is LIVID, 8 out of 10!

Personality - Not too much has changed since the late 2000s. Jon's still very erratic and nervous, often having mood swings between apathy and fits of rage and excitement. However, he absolutely adores Liz unconditionally like the loving father and now boyfriend he is! She's the world to him and it's so cute!! Jon still has absolutel love for the accordion and his other interests, proving that nothing can truly break this man's dedication to what he truly desires. He's still our loveable dork, still wearing funny suits, caring for his little family and just being him! Overall, Jon gets a good ol' 18 out of 20 for his personality!

Uniqueness - 2010s Jon isn't really that far from late 2000s Jon, so there aren't too many unique qualities that make 2010s Jon that different I'm afraid. However, in the very late 2010s, the artstyle gets a bit of a glow up and Jon's hair gains three little tufts near the back and they're so fucking adorable!! I'll talk about it way more in the next time period, but oh my gosh it's so adorable and it's great to see another major change to Jon's curly bouncy hair!! 2010s Jon unfortunately only get's a 2 in uniqueness to late 2000s Jon, but I still love him unconditionally regardless!!

Personal significance - Not too much personal significance other than, again, GMG. Really weird considering the early 2010s were when I spent so much time on the internet, but back then I wasn't really that interested in 'Garfield' as much. Unfortunately, 2010s Jon only gets a 2 in this category, but I want him to know he's still special to me regardless of his score!

Extra details - "Isn't that your phone?" That wasn't a bee, that was something else that makes a bzzzz-ing noise......... 10 points

Roll in the results, Garfy Baby! 2010s Jon gets a solid 47 out of 65, including bonus points! Not bad, Jonny Boy! Not bad at all! Pretty darn good, in fact!! Great job my man!

2020 - Now...

Physical attributes - Wow, Jon really got a glow up didn't he? Jon's eyes remain as big and adorable as ever, and his facial structure has become more round and circular again, and it's perfect for holding in your hands!, Oh, and not to mention his hair!!! His hair is so cute! As I mentioned before, Jon's hair has a little three-pointed thingy at the back and it's absolutely adorable! It really reminds me of Luigi's hair! Jon, you look incredibly cute!! Ahem, where was I... Oh, right! Jon still retains a lot of his tallness which I always appreciate seeing back again! Jon's back may still be really arched out, but man, have you seen this guy with his shirt off?? Damn, the things this man could do... AHEM.... A-Anyway, fear not, for Jon's pants are still blue, and will probably remain that way for quite a long time! Also, more than 20 years and he still hasn't missed a single leg day!? That's insane! You know, I'm feeling generous! 2020s Jon gets a 8 out of 10!! Lookin' good, man!!!

How thick he is - UPDATE: JON IS STILL THICK AS HELL!! 44 years of ass, that's an achievement! You deserve a medal, Jon! 8 out of 10!

Personality - 2020s Jon, while still having moments of apathy and modd swings, seems a lot happier now that Liz has settled into his life. He's still out loveable dork and a complete hopeless romantic, but he's a lot happier now, I bet. He's incredibly quirky and airheaded, often forgetting and misplacing things by accident. He still LOVES the accordion and even uses it against Garfield to get him to eat his veggies, absolute power move! His fashion sense is even more wildin' than before, often combining silly shorts with silly hats and colours that completely clash with one another. He's not a complete shut-in, but he's more reserved and we really only see him hangin' out with Liz in the house, which must take quite a toll on his mental health and it worries me. However, he has a tight-knit family who loves him and cherishes him for who he is, and for that, he loves them back. He's still pretty unhinged though, but I think his mental health has made a slow improvement since the late 2000s. Progress, Jon! Progress will get you to where you deserve to be, keep trying buddy! And with that said, I give 2020s Jon a cool 17 out of 20 for his personality! Quite the enjoyable guy, don't you think?

Uniqueness - Jon certainly has more uniqueness than early 2010s Jon, though unfortunately not by too much it seems... Though, 2020s Jon has a cute little quirk with his hair, and in my personal opinion, he's gotten quite the glow-up compared to several other characters! So you know what? I'll give 2020s Jon a 3 out of 5! I seriously really love his hair though, it's absolutely adorable and I might adopt it into how I draw him!!

Personal significance - It's surprising; I have more of a personal connection to 2020s Jon than 2000s or 2010s Jon. Is it the time period of me getting a Jon fixation therefore being more interested in the recent strips? Maybe! But whatever it is, I'm pretty attached to 2020s Jon regardless, I think I might give him a 4 out of 5!

Extra details - "Did you accidentally take Odie's medicine again?" Dog Jon is a good Jon and that implies Jon takes a certain medicine and frequently mixes it up. 10 points!

And what does good ol' Jonny Boy score say! I believe it's a cool 50 points, including the bonus ones! That's quite a fine contender, Jon! I'd say you come... Second? No, third? Wait, let me just add these up...

So, the finals places for the sexiest Jon in the main strips are....!

80s Jon - 1st place - 53 points

90s Jon - 2nd place - 51 points

2020s Jon - 3rd place - 50 points

70s - Early 80s Jon - 4th place - 49 points

2010s Jon - 5th place - 47 points

2000s Jon - 6th place - 46 points

Well, it seems my suspicions were correct. According to this bizarre and disorganised point system, 80s Jon turned out to be crowned the sexiest comic Jon out of them all! I'd like to give a big congratulations to 80s Jon and all the other time periods of Jon who have blessed the world of 'Garfield' with their existence as a sexyman! Now, I'd like to end this off with a quick message that, no matter what thw victory may be for once specific Jon, no matter how much I may have my favourites here and there and no matter what type of Jon media I may enjoy the most, please let it be known that Jon, no matter what time period you are from, no matter how you may evolve to be over the years, I will still love and cherish you, just the ame as I always have. You are special to me. You have always been special to me. And you know what? I want you to know that even if you don't look as flattering in one time period compared to another, it doesn't matter that much because you are still you. You are still Jon. And I love you, man.

And so with that said, I'd like to conclude this entry of The Jonicles. I most likely won't be able to write a new one dor a week at least because of my.... stupid exams, but rest assured that when they get out of the way, Entry 28 will soon commence, and I'll be back to my usual Arbuckle simpery in no time!

This one's been a long entry... Last edited at 9:04 pm JESUS

It's time i formatted my entries properly, this one has an actual title now!! I could say something else of value, but I'm really, really tired right now, so you know what? Jon is neat. Be like Jon. Goodnight!

Cheers,

Your Local Jonnoissuer

Posted at 9:22 pm

#jonicles 27 #AUUUUGGGHHH #JEEZ this is long.....#WHO IS THE HOTTEST OF THE JONS???#JON DEATH BATTLE #every jon from each time period goes at each other's throats #i'm watching at the sidelines with a cuppa tea like ''ah.... dilfs....''#i wanna draw that now

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chordsykat · 2 years

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Alright so, more than anything else I get questions about comic books. That's all-inclusive, mind you... From writing them to drawing them, getting work doing them, and all points in between. I don't know if I could ever explain all of that in a single post but figured I could at least show you all what I'm doing currently... which is putting together a submission packet for a publisher.

My way of doing things in 2022 are a mix between digital and traditional methods. I started this process by drawing very rough full-page layouts in Photoshop. Actually, that’s a lie. I started this process by looking up the publisher’s submission guidelines and finding out how many pages they want (usually no more than 5), what format, and any restrictions or special requests that come with submitting artwork to them.

And believe me, when I say I drew the first parts rough, we're not just talking ball and stick rough, but blob, scribble, and what-the-hell-was-i-drawing-here rough. What you see in the images above came after about three layers of fine-tuning. Now, I wanna say something about the comic page, itself here, and it’s very important... The temptation to take things panel-by-panel is gonna be huge, buuuut if you're an artist drawing in comic book format, especially if your end product will be printed as an actual book, you gotta keep one thing in mind:

The page, and any page opposite it, should be treated as one whole piece of art.

Yes, the compositions on each individual panel can matter and need to be considered as you go about laying out your art... but the whole of the comic page is your first concern.

That means changing up camera angles, the size of your figures, and how much or how little background will be seen, etc. are not only paramount to the success of how each panel reads, but the page as a whole. Too -- you’re going to have to keep things like margins, gutters, safe areas and where text boxes and word ballons will fit, in mind. I'll get into more detail about all that in future posts, I’m sure... But for now, here's what my process has been once I finally had digital "breakdowns" of the art and how it would all lay out on a page.

My first stop was the UPS Store, to get some 11"x17" prints of my digital stuff, so it could be transferred onto comic board bristol (100lb. smooth bristol -- sometimes called cold-press board)

Using graphite, I coat the whole back-side of the page with scribbles. You can also use carbon paper, but if you can't find it or it's otherwise cost-prohibitive, just do the scribble method. I find things transfer about the same, if not a bit lighter when using graphite, and I tend to prefer the lines from my breakdowns be lighter at this point, anyway...

Next step is to line the prints up, cabon-side down, onto the bristol. I tape the paper in corners where there is no art needing traced with a little double-sided tape. Then, using my graphite pencil, I pain-in-the-buttingly go over each line to transfer it onto the comic board. I also trace the corners of my panels... I don't trace the whole edge since I'll be using a ruler to get those right on the final art, and really just need guidelines at this point.

Once EVERY DAMN LINE is traced... You get a light transfer to work your final lines off of. Buuuut we're not quite done yet. Grab your work-pencil (I have been a fan of the good ol’ Staedtler Mars pencils with 0.5 lead since the dawn of time), graphite, gum eraser and fine-point eraser, because we’re going to be doing some light detail work on those breakdowns.

The final phase of this process is to go in and lightly re-draw the transferred breakdown lines. try to keep things light as you work. Smudges are the bane of a penciller’s existence and I sometimes work with a sheet of paper under my palm as I begin to work on the bristol, to keep things from smearing around. Once I’ve got my lines covered to a point that I could work off of them without looking at my digital copies to figure out what the heck I was even drawing, the page is ready for the final pencils.

If I was doing the inking for these pages, and (perhaps most importantly) I had an editor who trusted me, I might even be bold enough as to go in and start doing that, to save time. But a pencilling portfolio is hardly the place to show off my inking abilities, so we’ll leave the process right here, for now.

Join me next time as I do finished pencil work on these gargs!

#comic book stuff #how to comic book #my process #comic book design #layout #more than you ever cared to give a crap about

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soundsfaebutokay · 3 years

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youtube

So I've recc'd this video before, but it deserves its own post because it's one of my favorite things on youtube. It's a Tedx Talk by comics writer, editor, and journalist Jay Edidin, and I really think that it will connect with a lot of people here.

If you live and breathe stories of all kinds, you might like this.

If you care about media representation, you might like this.

If you're neurodivergent, you might like this.

If you're interested in a gender transition story that veers from the norm, you might like this.

If you love the original Leverage and especially Parker, and understand how important it is that a character like her exists, you will definitely like this.

Transcript below the cut:

You Are Here: The Cartography of Stories

by Jay Edidin

I am autistic. And what this means in practice is that there are some things that are easier for me than they are for most people, and a great many things that are somewhat harder, and these affect my life in more or less overt ways. As it goes, I'm pretty lucky. I've been able to build a career around special interests and granular obsession. My main gig at the moment is explaining superhero comics continuity and publishing history for which work I am somehow paid in actual legal currency—which is both a triumph of the frivolous in an era of the frantically pragmatic, and a job that's really singularly suited to my strengths and also to my idiosyncrasies.

I like comics. I like stories in general, because they make sense to me in ways that the rest of the world and my own mind often don't. Self-knowledge is not an intuitive thing for me. What sense of self I have, I've built gradually and laboriously and mostly through long-term pattern recognition. For decades, I didn't even really have a self-image. If you'd asked me to draw myself, I would eventually have given you a pair of glasses and maybe a very messy scribble of hair, and that would've been about it. But what I do know—backwards, forwards, and in pretty much every way that matters—are stories. I know how they work. I understand their language, their complex inner clockwork, and I can use those things to extrapolate a sort of external compass that picks up where my internal one falls short. Stories—their forms, their structure, the sense of order inherent to them—give me the means to navigate what otherwise, at least for me, would be an impassable storm of unparsable data. Or stories are a periscope, angled to access the parts of myself I can't intuitively see. Or stories are a series of mirrors by which I can assemble a composite sketch of an identity I rarely recognize whole...which is how I worked out that I was transgender, in my early thirties, by way of a television show.

This is my story. And it's about narrative cartography, and representation, and why those things matter. It's about autism and it's about gender and it's about how they intersect. And it's about the kinds of people we know how to see, and the kinds of people we don't. It's not the kind of story that gets told a lot, you might hear a lot, because the narrative around gender transition and dysphoria in our culture is really, really prescriptive. It's basically the story of the kid who has known for their whole life that they're this and not that, and that story demands the kind of intuitive self-knowledge that I can't really do, and a kind of relationship to gender that I don't really have—which is part of why it took me so long to figure my own stuff out.

So, to what extent this story, my story has a beginning, it begins early in 2014 when I published an essay titled, "I See Your Value Now: Asperger's and the Art of Allegory." And it explored, among other things, the ways that I use narrative and narrative structures to navigate real life. And it got picked up in a number of fairly prominent places that got linked, and I casually followed the ensuing discussion. And I was surprised to discover that readers were fairly consistently assuming I was a man. Now, that in itself wasn't a new experience for me, even though at the time I was writing under a very unambiguously female byline. It had happened in the letter columns of comics I'd edited. It had happened when a parody Twitter account I'd created went viral. When I was on staff at Wired, I budgeted for fancy scotch by putting a dollar in a box every time a reader responded in a way that made it clear they were assuming I was a man in response to an article where my name was clearly visible, and then I had to stop doing that because it happened so often I couldn't afford to keep it up. But in all of those cases, the context, you know, the reasons were pretty obvious. The fields I'd worked in, the beats I covered, they were places where women had had to fight disproportionally hard for visibility and recognition. We live in a culture that assumes a male default, so given a neutral voice and a character limit, most readers will assume a male author.

But this was different, because this wasn't just a book I'd edited, it wasn't a story I'd reported—it was me, it was my story. And it made me uncomfortable, got under my skin in ways that the other stuff really hadn't. And so I did what I do when that happens, and I tried to sort of reverse-engineer it to look at the conclusions and peel them back to see the narratives behind them and the stories that made them tick. And I started this, I started this by going back to the text of the essay, and you know, examining it every way I could think of: looking at craft, looking at content. And in doing so, I was surprised to realize that while I had written about a number of characters with whom I identified closely, that every single one of those characters I'd written about was male. And that surprised me even more than the responses to the essay had, because I've spent my career writing and talking and thinking about gender and representation in popular media. In 2014, I'd been the feminist gadfly of an editorial department and multiple mastheads. I'd been a founding board member of an organization that existed to advocate for more and better representation of women and girls in comics characters and creators. And most of my favorite characters, the ones I'd actively seek out and follow, were women. Just not, apparently, the characters I saw myself in.

Now I still didn't realize it was me at this point. Remember: self-knowledge, not very intuitive for me. And while I had spent a lot of time thinking about gender, I'd never really bothered to think much about my own. I knew academically that the way other people read and interpreted my gender affected and had influenced a lifetime of social and professional interactions, and that those in turn had informed the person I'd grown up into during that time. But I really believed, like I just sort of had in the back of my head, that if you peeled away all of that social conditioning, you'd basically end up with what I got when I tried to draw a self-portrait. So: a pair of glasses, messy scribble of hair, and in this case, maybe also some very strong opinions about the X-Men. I mean, I knew something was off. I'd always known something was off, that my relationship to gender was messy and uncomfortable, but gender itself struck me as messy and uncomfortable, and it had never been a large enough part of how I defined myself to really feel like something that merited further study, and I had deadlines, and...so it was always on the back burner. So, I looked, I looked at what I had, at this improbable group of exclusively male characters. And I looked and I figured that if this wasn't me, then it had to be a result of the stories I had access to, to choose from, and the entertainment landscape I was looking at. And the funny thing is, I wasn't wrong, exactly. I just wasn't right either.

See, the characters I'd written about had one other significant trait in common aside from their gender, which is that they were all more or less explicitly, more or less heavily coded as autistic. And I thought, "Ah, yes. This explains it. This is under representation in fiction echoing under representation in life and vice versa." Because the characteristics that I'd honed in on, that I particularly identified with in these guys, were things like emotional unavailability and social awkwardness and granular obsession, and all of those are characteristics that are seen as unsympathetic and therefore unmarketable in female characters. Which is also why readers were assuming that I was a man.

Because, you see, here's the thing. I'm not the only one who uses stories to navigate the world. I'm just a little more deliberate about it. For humans, stories formed the bridge between data and understanding. They're where we look when we need to contextualize something new, or to recognize something we're pretty sure we've seen before. They're how we identify ourselves; they're how we locate ourselves and each other in the larger world. There were no fictional women like me; there weren't representations of women like me in media, and so readers were primed not to recognize women like me in real life either.

Now by this point, I had started writing a follow-up essay, and this one was also about autism and narratives, but specifically focused on how they intersected with gender and representation in media. And in context of this essay, I went about looking to see if I could find even one female character who had that cluster of traits I'd been looking for, and I was asking around in autistic communities. And I got a few more or less useful one-off suggestions, and some really, really splendid arguments about semantics and standards, and um...then I got one answer over and over and over in community after community after community. "Leverage," people told me. "You have to watch Leverage."

So I watched Leverage. Leverage is five seasons of ensemble heist drama. It's about a team of very skilled con artists who take down corrupt and powerful plutocrats and the like, and it's a lot of fun, and it's very clever, and it's clever enough that it doesn't really matter that it's pretty formulaic, and I enjoyed it a lot. But what's most important, what Leverage has is Parker.

Parker is a master thief, and she is the best of the best of the best in ways that all of Leverage's characters are the best of the best. And superficially, she looks like the kind of woman you see on TV. So she's young, and she's slender, and she's blonde, and she's attractive but in a sort of approachable way. And all of that familiarity is brilliant misdirection, because the thing is, there are no other women like Parker on TV. Because Parker—even if it's never explicitly stated in the show—Parker is coded incredibly clearly as autistic. Parker is socially awkward. Her speech tends to have limited inflection; what inflection it does have is repetitive and sounds rehearsed a lot of the time. She's not emotionally literate; she struggles with it, and the social skills she develops over the series, she learns by rote, like they're just another grift. When she's not scaling skyscrapers or cartwheeling through laser grids, she wears her body like an ill-fitting suit. Parker moves like me. And Parker, Parker was a revelation—she was a revolution unto herself. In a media landscape where unempathetic women usually exist to either be punished or "loved whole," Parker got to play the crabby savant. And she wasn't emotionally intuitive but it was never ever played as the product of abuse or trauma even though she had survived both of those—it was just part of her, as much as were her hands or her eyes. And she had a genuine character arc. My god, she had a genuine romantic arc, even. And none of that required her to turn into anything other than what she was. And in Parker I recognized a thousand tics and details of my life and my personality...but. I didn't recognize myself.

Why? What difference was there in Parker, you know, between Parker and the other characters I'd written about? Those characters, they'd spanned ethnicities and backgrounds and different media and appearances and the only other characteristic they all had in common was their gender. So that was where I started to look next, and I thought, "Well, okay, maybe, maybe it's masculinity. Maybe if Parker were less feminine, she'd click with me the way those other characters had." So then I tried to imagine a Parker with short hair, who's explicitly butch, and...nothing. So okay, I extended it in what seems like the only logical direction to extend it. I said, "Well, if it's not masculinity, what if it's actual maleness? What if Parker were a man?" Ah. Yeah.

In the end, everything changed, and nothing changed, which is often the way that it goes for me. Add a landmark, no matter how slight, and the map is irrevocably altered. Add a landmark, and paths that were invisible before open wide. Add a landmark, and you may not have moved, but suddenly you know where you are and where you can go.

I wasn't going to tell this story when I started planning this talk. I was gonna tell a similar story, it was about stories, like this is, about narratives and the ways that they influence our culture and vice versa. And it centered around a group of women at NASA who had basically rewritten the narrative around space exploration, and it was a lot more fun, and I still think it was more interesting. But it's also a story you can probably work out for yourselves. In fact it's a story some of you probably have, if you follow that kind of thing, which you probably do given that you're here. And this is a story, my story is not a story that I like to tell. It's not a fun story to talk about because it's very personal and I am a very private person. And it's not universal. And it's not always relatable, and it's definitely not aspirational. And it's not the kind of story that you tend to encounter unless you're already part of it...which is why I'm telling it now. Because the thing is, I'm not the only person who uses stories to parse the world and navigate it. I'm just a little more deliberate. Because I'm tired of having to rely on composite sketches.

Open your maps. Add a landmark. Reroute accordingly.

#Jay Edidin #LGBTQ #autism #mind and body #gender norms #why humans need stories #Leverage #Parker #Abby posts Leverage #my faves #Youtube #I did my best with the transcript #sorry for any mistakes

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evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn · 3 years

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5 Reasons Roman Is Infuriating (And Why I DO NOT have a crush on him)

(Logince with a bit of denying and pining) Read on AO3

My first fic, based on my Logince drawing (If someone ever wants to make anything based on my art, feel free to ask. Making content is hard and people fleshing out concepts is always fun.) Word count: 3641

Tw: Cursing, Food mention, Balloon popping, Remus being his authentic self

Character’s: Remus, Virgil, Janus, Logan, Roman (At the end), Patton (Mainly implied)

~~~

He had everything ready.

"Ahem."

Three heads turn to look at him.

"Logan, I really don't understand why you're doing this. You know I'm literally the Lord of the Lies, right? I can tell when you're lying."

"Falsehood. I am here specifically to prove to you three, the ones that have doubted me the most, what I think of Roman, so that you'll stop teasing me about emotions that aren't even there." Logan says, standing in front of a long classroom table. Virgil, Janus and Remus sit there, each maintaining their own postures and looking at him with disbelieving expressions.

"Logan, we can see your heart boner from here. You really think you can convince us with a slideshow presentation?" Remus picks his teeth, seemingly bored of the idea.

"That's exactly what I'm doing- What? Why would my heart have a boner? It doesn't have the proper parts to do that-" Logan looks lost, clutching the presentation button in his hand.

"It's an expression, Pocket Protector. It means you've got feelings for him." Virgil sighs.

Logan squints at him. "Of course I have feelings for him." Logan looks behind him, to the SmartBoard behind him. The board turns on, displaying the presentation title. "And those feelings are feelings of irritation. My name is Logan Sanders, and welcome to my Ted Talk."

There is a collective sigh from the others.

Logan takes a pointer stick (the one with the little hand on one side) from a holder on the wall, and points at the words on the screen. "This is 5 reasons why Roman is infuriating. And unlike your cognitive distortions may suggest, I DO NOT have a crush on him." He gestures with the stick where the same thing is written. "So, let's begin."

~~~

1. He likes to insist that he's the most handsome side, despite us all looking like Thomas.

It's ridiculous. All of their traits are reminiscent of Thomas's.

There are some mild changes they go through when they aren't summoned, but they are just slight shifts. For example, Janus and Remus both have different long hairstyles, and they all have a bit of a hair color change. Their features do shift too, emulating ones Thomas has seen over his lifetime that he'd associate with their personalities.

However, in person and in the mindscape, Roman really thinks 'he's the sh*t' (Virgil taught him that expression). He flaunts his beauty over everyone else's, strutting like the prettiest peacock in the flock. Sure, he's good looking, but the same level of good looking as all the other sides.

"You're all so handsome. But not as handsome as me." Logan recalls him saying in an episode.

He tries to use it to one-up the other's, even though they all know they look the same. He also enjoys flaunting his ego, attempting to emulate a lifestyle of the rich and famous when he feels like it.

It's rather ridiculous.

"You think he's good-looking?" Remus coos.

Logan glares, and changes the slide of the presentation.

2. He fights everyone all the time. (Except for Patton)

It seems that Roman has made the most rivals out of everyone.

He's rivals with his brother, he's got a rivalry with Janus but with more betrayal behind it, he's got his past rivalry with Virgil, even though now they're the closest friends, and despite making up several times, Logan is also his rival. Patton seems to be fine, despite their post-wedding event. Logan believes Roman is too worried of defending what he believes in against the literal embodiment of Thomas's morality.

"So, you two have tried making up, but have you considered... Making out???" Remus pitches, his smile all teeth.

Logan sputters a bit. "Puh- Wha- I don't think that would work."

Logan has in fact not thought of making out with Roman, thank you very much. Not even when they're so close, passionately arguing about who-knows-what in the spur of the moment, where it would be so easy to move just a little bit closer and connect his lips to the soft pink ones of the prince.

He has not thought about making out with Roman, because he does not have a crush on him. Period. End of story.

The two of them argue a lot. Whether it's how Thomas should spend his day, to the Chicken or the Egg dilemma (Logan knows he's right, by the way, Roman just won't see that the egg came first), to the ideal temperature for a heating pillow, to the best Crofter's flavor. They can range from productive, to stupid, and by the end of it they may just be fighting about nothing at all.

They jab at each other, come up with clever arguments, and although they're technically fighting, it sometimes feels more like a duel.

"Or a mating ritual." Virgil says under his breath.

"These points don't sound very negative." Janus adds, twirling some of his hair with his finger.

"It is negative. We fight a lot. He fights people a lot. Every issue seems to be a battle to him that he can outmatch, despite being better suited as a civil discussion." Logan stands taller, trying to defend his point.

"Well, that makes sense. I understand this point now. Go on." Janus waves his gloved hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Alright." Logan clicks his presenter button, and the slide changes.

3. He's loud. Super loud. All the time.

From singing to dancing to bantering, there never does seem to be a dull moment when Roman is around. Some may call it nice, but Logan would say that's a very polite description. It certainly isn't nice when Logan's trying to get work done, or watch a movie, or enjoy a peaceful breakfast, or most of the time really.

Logan has stopped working outside when he's trying to be productive because Roman will, without fail, come in singing, and then start a little fight with Logan that distracts him from his work and renders him unproductive for a long time because all he can think about is Roman.

"Hm... Wonder why that is." Janus interrupts, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you don't need to wonder. I said it was because of our fighting." Logan nervously adjusts his already immaculately placed glasses, resuming his point to his slide presentation.

It's odd, because sometimes even without leaving his room, he can still hear the sounds of Roman's voice in his head. He theorizes the absence of all that noise is making him subconsciously fill it in ( even though his mind also provides him with clear images of Roman's smile).

He can't escape the noise on movie nights. Roman will sing along to any song, scream at the most poorly-timed jumpscares, and no matter what, criticize the movie. Logan does participate in that last step from time to time.

During dinners, it depends. Sometimes, Roman will come in and do his thing, sometimes he'll make a dramatic entrance, grab a plate and then go off to work on something, and sometimes he won't show up at all, off on a quest in the imagination. Those particular meals are peaceful. Sometimes they feel empty, but so far, no one else has complained. Especially considering with Remus' and Janus' seats added to the table, dinner can be a wild event.

Sometimes, when Logan gets lonely, he'll bring his work outside. Every time, he can guarantee that Roman will be there eventually. He provides a healthy distraction, and he always feels much lighter after a bantering session.

But most of the time, he just can't stand it. How can one be so flamboyant for so many hours of the day? Logan had theorized it had something to do with overcompensation, his need for validation and attention, but then thought it was strange theorizing about his friends and went back to work.

Overall, not the worst trait, but it being applied to every scenario adds to the fact that he is infuriating.

"Hold on, can we circle back to the part where you said you thought of him smiling-" Virgil begins, only to be interrupted by Logan pointing his pointer at him.

"No, we will not. Next point."

4. He makes up stupid nicknames.

And he makes a lot of them. Even during serious talks, you'd think he had forgotten your name and was too scared to ask, so he supplies an abundance of back-ups to make you feel special. And they are quite varied, though all slightly jabbing. There are play-on-words, references thrown about... It would have impressed Logan, had all of his designated nicknames not revolved around him being a nerd.

"Hey Microsoft Turd."

"I need your help, Egghead."

"Listen here, Erlenmeyer Trash-"

"Calculator Watch."

"Oh Book Geeeerm~"

"Sure thing Specs."

Logan actually didn't mind specs, but his point still stands. All insulting, clever, but still stupid nicknames. Sometimes, he wonders if Roman keeps a book of them around. Somewhere in his room, filled with all the names he'll unleash onto his unsuspecting companions. Logan may have tried to come up with a list of his own in retaliation, but he couldn't think of anything Roman would think was clever. He spent almost a full night on it, hair a mess, glasses askew, head resting on his desk as he tried to come up with something at least remotely good enough. It interrupted his perfect circadian rhythm. Never again.

Except for the next night, where he tried the exact same stunt again, but that doesn't matter.

What does, is that all of those factors cause aggravation. He always feels weird when Roman gives him a nickname, varying from annoyance to a strange tingling.

"Are you saying he should stop?" Virgil interrupts, frustrated. "This point is going nowhere."

"I-" He's not sure. Although some of the insults are quite jabbing, Logan does want to support Roman's creative process. Not to mention, the nickname ‘specs’ oddly does hold a place in his heart.

"OoOoOoohhh, I have an idea!" Remus cackles. Although Logan is hesitant, he gestures to continue. "Okay, so pinky swear I won't try anything on you, but just close your eyes, and imagine how this nickname would make you feel if Roman said it."

Logan apprehensively closes his eyes, and Remus does nothing but lean slightly forward in his seat, and puts on his best Roman impression. Which is pretty good, considering they're twin brothers.

"How are you today, my love?"

Immediately, Logan flushes bright red from head to toe, covering his face in his hands and squirms. Remus's cackling intensifies by a tenfold, and the other two are poorly failing to contain their laughter.

"That's- That's- That's... N-not a nickname. Th-That's a p-pet name."

"Awww, but you're blushiiiing!" Remus squeals in amusement.

"Falsehood. N-no." Logan says, not enough bite in it to hold value. "We are going to move on now. That just... caught me off guard." He says, adjusting his tie several times, trying to compose himself. "The point is, his nicknames are stupid, and I don't like them- No, don't look at me like that Remus even that one- so it adds to his infuriating nature." Logan grabs the presentation button and clicks it aggressively to the next slide.

"And now, for my concluding point."

5. He is incredibly and willingly dumb.

Sometimes Logan thinks he wouldn't be surprised by the illogical things Roman would say. And then he gets proven incredibly wrong.

"Much like your... 'illogical feelings', mayhaps?" Janus drawls.

Shush, Logan is talking.

Granted, both Creativity twins have proven to be rather illogical, as they are embodiments of creativity, a force that knows only slight bounds to logic. Only with a defying mind can people push boundaries in the advancement of society. That doesn't mean however that those defying minds need to be intelligent.

"I believe Virgil specifically had called Roman a.." He takes out his special cards, flipping through them. " 'A Himbo'. Judging from his past and present behaviors and from the definition itself, it is safe to assume that yes, he is in fact a Himbo."

One instance he can remember is during a picnic in the imagination. It was Patton's birthday, and Roman wanted to do something special, so he set up a picnic for them all to attend. Logan doesn't enjoy visiting the imagination as much, as when he's there, things become more realistic and that makes him feel like a burden. Regardless, it was for Patton's birthday, and so he decided it would be polite to come along.

Everyone was guided by a trail of flowers to an opening in the forest, where a giant picnic blanket was laid out, pillows thrown around, and a large picnic basket stood in the center. There were many balloons of pastel pink and blue tied around, and the birds were chirping in a joint melody. It sounds almost like Happy Birthday.

Logan, as he approaches, hopes that his influence won't cause ants to emerge, because although that would be realistic, it would also be quite the nuisance.

He and the other's are just dressed in their usual attire, but as Roman emerges from the trees, he is wearing a shiny red party hat to go along with his prince outfit.

Roman immediately goes to serenading Patton and placing a party hat on top of his head, light blue with a little pompom on the top. He ushers him to sit on one of the largest pillows, and then goes around giving everyone else party hats. Logan stills when Roman gets to him last, a dark blue party hat with little stars in his hand.

"Do I have to wear that?" He asks. Although, sure, it does look nice, he doesn't want to seem ridiculous.

"Come on, you're in good company. Please? For Patton?" Roman bats his eyelashes at Logan, who sighs and lets him put the party hat onto his head.

Roman runs off to the birthday boy, and they all sit down. The time passes peacefully, songs being sung and Roman releasing a horde of puppies to the joy of the guests. By the time the food is out, everything seems to be going well, until they're all eating, and Roman pulls out an orange. As he's about to peel it, Logan speaks up.

"Roman, I would advise against that." Which may sound ridiculous to most people, but Logan is an expert on many logical things. ( Orange peels have a flammable liquid in them called limonene, and as both it and a balloon, made of latex, are non-polar, the liquid can dissolve the balloon, thus causing it to explode.)

"Against what?" Roman asks, but he does stop his attempt.

Logan adjusts his glasses, ready to explain. "Eating an orange near a balloon. As I cause the imagination to become more logical, doing so will most likely cause-"

"Oh puh-lease! I'm sure whatever wacky science things you're going to say don't actually work here! I mean, there is plenty of influence to go arou-" Roman, the spiteful side he is, gets even closer to the balloon, starting to peel it. Lo-and-behold, he can't finish his denying before the balloon right beside him explodes with a loud POP. The sound sends him jumping back in fear, screeching to the nine hells, and then falling backwards onto another balloon, scaring him again. Several sides laughed out loud at his pain, while Patton watched him, worried. Logan smiled internally at the karma, before getting up and making sure he was okay.

Roman did spend the rest of the party in a sulky mood, but the party was still a huge success. They had some good food, and while Logan made Patton a flower crown, he fed him forfulls of cake. It was a nice bonding moment. When everyone separated to return to the mindscape, Roman waved them all off from the imagination door. Logan turns back to look at him, but Roman makes no move to follow them all out.

"You're not coming back yet?" Logan asks, adjusting his glasses.

Roman sighs. "No, not yet. I'm afraid this dashing prince has a little bit of cleaning to do. And perhaps an adventure. You never know." He leans on the doorframe, smiling.

"Well, that is correct. I in fact do not know what you'll be doing." Logan nods to himself. "Do you need any help cleaning? I doubt I'll be much help with the adventure, but I do have hands." He gestures to his hands.

Roman looks quite surprised. "Oh, thanks for the offer, specs. I think I've got it all covered though."

Logan offers a hesitant smile. "Alright then. Let me know if that changes."

Roman quickly smiles back, a faint pink dusting his cheeks, and turns back into the imagination and shutting the door. Logan stands there for a moment, but not sure why. It's clear that Roman was not feeling all that great from the balloon moment. Even Logan, terrible at deciphering emotions, can tell that much. Perhaps he needs to let off some steam.

He just can't understand Roman most of the time. They do have so many similarities, being too proud for their own good, but it's almost like they're in two separate worlds. Logan, the learner he is, wishes he could explore Roman's own. Understand it. Understand him, and his way of thinking. Even though Roman is mostly dumb, he does make good points, and Logan tries to prioritize his input, as it's usually what Thomas is hoping and dreaming for as well.

~~~

The last slide shines back at them all. A concluding statement that makes the three watching sides snicker a little bit.

"And I believe he just doesn't understand how much we all think he's great. I swear, he's just so dense! It's so aggravating! How can he not tell that he's worth everything? Why doesn't he understand that we all care for him? That I care for him? He's wonderful, for god's sake! And that I don't mean to hurt him with my critiques. I want him to thrive! I-"

Everything stops. Logan takes a moment of silence. The three sides look at him, each with different degrees of anticipation. One looks pretty much ready to pounce out of his seat.

"...Oh."

And all at once, everything gets strung back into motion. Confetti literally falls from the ceiling as Remus jumps for joy, circling a very mortified looking Logan. Janus, the tired soul, rolls his eyes and lets out a slow, long clap. Virgil just rests his head in his arms.

"I can't believe this. You sit us all down for a presentation you probably double-checked and proofread, like a nerd, and only NOW you realize you were wrong all along? Why didn't you say anything, snake-face?" Virgil complains, sitting up just to glare at him.

"Wo-ow, it isn't as if I was saying that this whole time? No, it couldn't be." Janus deadpans, sarcasm spilling from his mouth like an old, worn, broken dam.

Logan doesn't move from his stand-still spot beside the projector, but Remus manages to bounce in circles around him, cooing. "Lo-lo's got a cruuuush! A crushy crush! A crushed crust of a crush! A crevice cracking ‘cause of the crushed crust-" He was going to continue, throwing expired banana peels around to substitute rose petals, until the sound of the door opening catches everyone's attention.

"Hey losers, Patton wanted to know if you-" Lo and behold, Roman walks in, regal as ever, smiling until he takes in the sight before him. The boring classroom look, contrasted by the amount of confetti that stopped falling as soon as he walked in. Janus and Virgil, wide-eyed and looking at him, completely still. Remus, caught mid dance, frozen in place with a smile. Logan, looking at him in the way one may look milliseconds after being caught stealing government secrets. Roman's eyes flicker to each of them, before settling on the projector.

"Roman. I-I can explain-" Logan starts, but Roman is already reading the words on the screen.

"... 'In short, he saddles me with unnecessary... feelings'? 'Unease, and uncertainty'? Who... Oh my god! Logan!" Roman looks at him, smiling in disbelief and amazement. "I know what this meanssss!" Filled with giddy delight, he sidesteps the table.

Logan gulps as Roman approaches, turning beet red as Roman takes his hands in his two own. "Y-Yes?" He practically squeaks as Roman looks him right in the eyes.

"Yes! Ohhh, this is so exciting!" The three bystanders watch, once again in anticipation, as Roman swings their interlocked hands.

"Yes?" Logan offers a small, tentative smile.

"You have a crush on someoooone! Oh Logan, you should've told me!" Roman smiles, completely oblivious to the internal facepalm of several present members.

"I-I'm sorry..." Logan looks down, slightly disappointed but still too flustered to say anything.

"God save the dense." Janus mutters, inspecting his gloves fingers.

"Don't be sorry! Come, we must make plans! I shall be your matchmaker! This is going to be perfeeeect!" Roman, sings, dancing out of the room and dragging Logan along by their still intertwined hands. The other sides watch them go.

After a moment of processing, Virgil sighs. "Well, I thought that was going to be resolved. Turns out they're both as dense as... dense people." He can't seem to think of any other similes.

"Welp, I'm just happy that they're one step closer to getting. it. on. romantically." Remus punctuates every word with some rather immature hand gestures. “And that they stop dancing around each other.”

"Who do you think Roman thinks Logan has a crush on?" Virgil asks, cogs turning in his brain.

Janus lounges backwards. "Well, let's see... Soooo many options. Either he thinks it's someone outside of Thomas's head, or the simple answer..."

Remus and Virgil both look at him, both with looks of realization.

"Patton."

~~~

#logince #logince fic #logan sanders #ts logan #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #implied patton sanders #tw food #oliver writes #i also snuck an ace attorney reference #i was going to wait but i'm just very excited to post this #5 Reasons fic

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bookcoversalt · 4 years

Note

Have you noticed the latest edition of Charlie Bowater can only draw one (1) face? She did The Princess Will Save You and Cast In Firelight both YA Fantasy set to be released this year. And they are how you say... the same fucking cover

Ah yes so you saw the same tweet I did

I know I literally just posted that we cannot outlaw book covers from looking like each other, but ! Oof!

The only thing that softens the blow here is that Charlie has improved at representing nonwhite features such that characters look like POC rather than tan white people, although,, that bar was low. Anybody remember the ACOTAR coloring book.

(Would you have guessed that 2/3 of these people are nonwhite? Or even that they’re supposed to be three different men? I guess all the men in Prythian have the same haircut?)

But that minor victory is mostly lost in the quagmires of the fact that Charlie’s style is to give everyone instagram face:

I wouldn’t even call this “Sameface” necessarily: that implies limitation, that an artist is only capable of drawing a single facial structure competently. Bowater is incredibly technically talented, she just chooses to give everyone catlike fae eyes and the cheekbones of a starving nymph. (My previous post on this here.)

But I don’t really blame her for that, or for these hilariously identical, nearly devoid of personality covers. Artists are allowed to do whatever they want. Artists who make art for covers are being art directed by designers and marketing teams who bear responsibility for how the finished pieces turn out.

No, this is our fault, as a community and an industry and..... society, kind of, for valuing character portraits that are “pretty” (“pretty” being an extremely loaded, culturally subjective concept) over art that actually Says Something About The Story. Bowater’s style happens to dovetail perfectly with what we currently collectively find pretty, and so we’ve put her art on a pedestal at the cost of everything else art can or should do for our stories.

And this is understandable: in contemporary western culture, pretty is a value unto itself. Seeing our characters portrayed as pretty denotes them as special, as smart, as powerful. It’s almost impossible to de-program ourselves from that reaction. There are approximately five kajillion studies on how beautiful people are at personal and professional advantages; how they’re perceived to be happier, healthier, more successful, and how those perceptions can translate into realities. (Nevermind how thinness and whiteness enter that equation, see above note about “pretty”.) I would love to see more “average” or weird- looking characters abound (and be accurately visually represented) in the YA/ Genre lit sphere, but for now... everyone is pretty.

Which sometimes means everyone is pretty boring.

But that’s just the specific, "What’s the deal with Bowater’s success in book circles and her style and all the sameiness” part of this equation. What if we backed up and asked: why character art at all? Beyond a question of “pretty”-ness (and general obvious Artistic Quality), why do we gravitate towards it, what's the purpose of it, how does it fall flat in a general sense, and how can it be utilized more effectively?

This is something I think about all the time. I follow writers on social media (because..... I am a writer on social media, regrettably), and we have an enormous collective boner for character art. “Getting fanart [of the characters]” is one of the achievement pinnacles constantly cited when people get or want to get published. Commissioning character art is something we reward ourselves with, or save up for (WHICH IS GOOD AND CORRECT. FREE ART IS GREAT BUT DO NOT SOLICIT IT. PAY YOUR ARTISTS). And like???? Same????? We love our stories because we’re invested in our characters. Most humans, even prose writers, are visual creatures to some extent, and no matter how happy we are with our text-based art, it’s exciting to see our creations exist in that form. So we turn that art into promo material and we advocate for it on our covers-- because it’s so meaningful to us! It goes with the story perfectly!! Look at my dumb beautiful children!!!!!

But on an emotional level, it’s hard to grasp that it only means something to us. Particularly when you take into account the aforementioned vast landscape of beautiful visual blandness of many characters (in the YA/ genre lit sphere, that’s pretty much all I’m ever talking about), character art can be like baby photos. If you know the baby, if that baby is your new niece or your friend’s kid, if you’ve held them and their parent texts you updates when they do cute shit, you’re probably excited to see that baby photo. But unless it’s exceptionally cute, a random stranger’s baby photo isn’t likely to invoke an emotional reaction other than “this is why I don’t get on facebook.”

Seeing art of characters they don’t know might intrigue a reader, but especially if the characters or art are unremarkable-looking, it’s doing a hell of a lot more for the people who already have an emotional attachment to that character than anybody else. And that’s fine. Art for a small, invested audience is incredibly rewarding. But like the parent who cannot see why you don’t think their baby is THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BABY IN THE WORLD???? I think we have trouble divesting our emotional reaction to character art from its actual marketing value, which.... is often pretty minimal. This is my hill to die on #143:

Character portraits, even beautiful ones, are meaningless as a marketing tool without additional context or imagery.

I love character art! I’m not saying it should not exist or that it’s worthless! Even art that appeals to only the one single person who made it has value and the right to exist. And part of this conversation is how important for POC to see themselves on covers, whether illustrations or stock imagery, particularly in YA/kidlit. I’m not saying character portrait covers are “bad”.

I am saying that I have seen dozens and dozens of sets of character art for characters who look interchangeable, and it has never driven me to preorder a book. (Also one character portrait for a high-profile 2019 debut that was clearly just a painting of Amanda Seyfriend. You know the one. There’s nothing wrong with faceclaims but lmfao, girl,,,,)

I’m sure that’s not true for everyone! I am incredibly picky about art. It’s my job. There’s nothing wrong with your card deck of cell-shaded boys of ambiguous age and ethnicity who all have the same button nose and smirk if it Sparks Joy for you.

But if your goal is not only to delight yourself, but to sell books, it’s in your best interest to remember that art, like writing, is a form of communication. The publishing industry runs on pitches: querys, blurbs, proposals, self-promo tweets. What if we applied that logic to our visuals? How can we utilize our character design and art to communicate as much about our stories as possible, in the most enticing way?

Social media has already driven the embrace of this concept in a very general sense. Authors are now supposed to have ~ aesthetics. “Picspams” or graphics, modular collages that function as mini moodboards, are commonplace. But the labor intensity and relative scarcity of character art visible in bookish circles, even on covers, means that application of marketing sensibility to it is less intuitive than throwing together a pinterest board.

Since we were talking about it earlier, WICKED SAINTS, as a case study of a recent “successful” fantasy YA debut, arguably owed a lot of its early social media momentum to fanart.

(Early fanart by @warickaart)

The most frequently drawn character, Malachiasz, has long hair, claws, and distinctive face tattoos. WS has a strong aesthetic in general, but those features clearly marked his fanart as him in a way even someone unfamiliar with the book could clearly track across different styles. Different interpretations of his tattoos from different artists even became a point of interest.

(Art by Jaria Rambaran, also super early days of WS Being A Thing)

Aside from distinctiveness, it's a clear visual representation of his history as a cult member, his monstrous powers, and the story’s dark, medieval tone. The above image is also a great example of character interaction, something missing from straightforward portraits, that communicates a dynamic. Character dynamics draw people into stories: enemies-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, childhood rivals, platonic life partners, love triangles, devoted siblings, exes who still carry the flame-- there’s a reason we codify these into tropes, and integrate that language and shared knowledge into our marketing. For another example in that vein, I really love this art by @MabyMin, commissioned by Gina Chen:

The wrist grip! The fancy outfits! These are two nobles who hate each other and want to bone and I am sold.

In terms of true portraits, the best recent example I can think of is the set @NicoleDeal did for Roshani Chokshi’s GILDED WOLVES (I believe as a preorder incentive of some kind?):

They showcase settings, props, and poses that all communicate the characters’ interests, skills, and personality, as well as the glamorous, elaborate aesthetic of the overall story. Even elements in the gold borders change, alluding to other plot points and symbology.

For painterly accuracy in character portraits on covers, I love SPIN THE DAWN. The heroine looks like a beautiful badass, yes, but the thoughtful, detailed rendering of every element, soft textures, and dynamic, fluid composition form a really cohesive, stunning illustration that presents an intriguing collection of story elements.

The devil isn’t always in the details, though: stark, moody, highly stylized or graphic art with an emphasis on textural contrast and bold color and shape rather than representational accuracy can communicate a lot (emotionally and tonally) while pretty much foregoing realism.

The new Lunar Chronicles covers are actually the best examples I found of this (Trying to stay within the realm of existing bookish art rather than branch into All Art Of Human Figures Forever):

Taking cues from styles more typical of the comics and video game industries. (Games and comics, as visual mediums, are sources of incredible character art and I highly recommend following artists in those industries if you want to See More Cool Art On Your Timeline.)

TL;DR: Character art and design, as a marketing tool (even an incidental one) should be as unique to your story and your characters as possible, and tell us about the story in ways that make us want to read it. I tried to give examples because there are so many ways to do this, and so many different kinds of art, and I could give many more! But I’m bored now. So to circle all the way back:

These are not just bad because they look like each other, although that is embarrassing and illuminating. These are bad covers (although,,,,, PRINCESS is the far worse offender, at least FIRELIGHT suggests a thoughtful cultural analogue) because a desire for Pretty Character Art overrode the basic cover function to tell us about the story. We get no sense of who these people are, what their relationships are, what these books are about beyond the most general genre, or why we might care. The expressions are vague, the characters generic-looking, the compositions uninteresting and the colors failing to be indicative of anything in particular.

They’re somebody else’s baby pictures.

(And yes, that’s the CRUEL PRINCE font on PRINCESS. I better not have to do a roundup post but it’s on thin fucking ice.)

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darriness · 4 years

Text

Klaine Fic - 3 on 1

Author: darriness

Word Count: 19352

Summary: What happens when triplets each find the potential love of their lives...in the same person?

Author’s Note: This author's note is a little long but I ask that you read it all :) Welcome to my story for the Glee Potluck Big Bang! I've had this story finished for a couple of months so I'm over the moon I'm getting a chance to post it a little early! The original idea for this fic came from a conversation I had with @ipwarn when I discovered that Darren Criss, Alex Brightman, and Henry Golding share the same birthdate. But, saying that, Blaine is still Blaine in this story (he's not Darren) and for Alex and Henry I used parts of their real life inspirations' general appearance as reference but they are completely made up characters. Most notably, and the reason I wanted to say anything, I know Henry Golding is actually Malaysian but Henry in my story is half Filipino. Lastly but definitely not least I would like to thank @imrights for the AMAZING title art above that I am completely obsessed with. And as always I would like to thank my fantastic beta @darrenismydarcy - I could not do any of this without you!! I hope all of the above makes sense! Enjoy the story! I, selfishly, love it a whole lot!

AO3 Link

3 on 1

What do you get when you mix an Asian banker with an Irish elementary school teacher?

Henry, Alexander, and Blaine Anderson.

That? Is Alex Anderson’s favourite joke to tell. It’s caused his brothers to roll their eyes more times then they can count but Alex still gets a kick out of it.

Now, Henry, Alex, and Blaine aren’t JUST brothers. I mean sure, looking at them you probably wouldn’t even be able to tell they share ANY genetic makeup. They are as different as different can be.

Henry towers over his brothers at just over six feet, for one. Blaine and Alex try to pass themselves off as five nine but...they’re five eight on a good day. Alex got all his features from his Irish mother. He’s as white as can be. Literally. His brown hair and brown eyes are the only things keeping him from being part of the Arian race…

Henry, on the other hand, is the spitting image of his Filipino father. His angular features, slightly slanted chocolate brown eyes, and deep chestnut hair are a proud marker of his Asian heritage.

And then there’s Blaine. A complete mix of them both. Growing up, he had to fight (once physically) for people to understand that he is half Asian. Unlike Alex (who to this day gets the quirked eyebrow when he tells people he’s half Filipino and will sometimes, depending on the company, not even bother to mention this fact), Blaine does have Asian traits. It’s just that he has enough caucasian traits to ‘trick’ the more ignorant population.

In the end, not only are these three completely different men brothers...they actually share the exact same birthdate.

Growing up as a triplet was an interesting experience. One that can only truly be understood by those who, themselves, grew up as a multiple.

For example, there really isn’t a way to explain the special kind of connection that sees one triplet farting on the head of another triplet while the third triplet holds him down.

Which is how we find the Anderson triplets now.

“Oh my God, get the fuck off of me!” Henry shouts, trying to bring his hands up to block the assault.

Alex laughs from somewhere above him, letting out a sigh as he completes the job, before moving from his straddle position.

“You can let him go, Blainers.” Alex says to Blaine who had been holding Henry’s shoulders and arms down.

Blaine releases Henry who immediately shrugs him off (like he had been the one to break the hold) and sits up, “I expect this shit from him,” Henry says, pointing to Alex, “but not from you.” He concludes, pointing to Blaine.

Blaine shrugs, “He had a justifiable reason.”

Henry rolls his eyes before shifting on the couch and picking up some of the papers in front of him. He’s got work to do. He’s not even sure why he agreed to have his brothers over to his apartment on the eve of potentially the biggest meeting of his career.

“So, we need to talk about what we’re going to do for Tiny’s bachelorette.” Alex says, sitting down on the other couch and picking up his beer. HE doesn’t have a high stress meeting in the morning.

But, right. That’s why they’re here. To discuss their little sister’s upcoming nuptials.

“We’re not her bridesmaids OR her maid of honour.” Blaine reminds, “Isn’t our job to go with the guys when they take Sam out?”

Alex stares aghast when Henry shrugs and nods along with the suggestion, “Ummm no!” Alex shouts, indignantly, “This is our baby sister’s wedding. Our ONLY sister’s wedding. If it’s not her big brothers’ job to take her out and get her drunk and danced upon by random strippers then I don’t know whose job it is.”

Blaine and Henry stare at their brother in silence for a moment.

“Ummm, it’s literally anyone else’s job but ours.” Henry says.

Alex rises slightly from his seat and sits down with an emphatic exhale, “You can’t be serious!” He exclaims, “To quote a very neurotic man ‘I expect this shit from him,” He says pointing at Henry, “but not from you.’” He finishes, pointing at Blaine.

Blaine’s eyes go wide and Henry can tell that Blaine’s people pleasing nature is taking a serious hit tonight. If there’s one thing Blaine Anderson can’t stand, it’s people not liking him and being disappointed in him.

“We are her *brothers*.” Alex emphasises again, “I think she’d be really hurt if we didn’t do something for her.”

Henry sighs, “But does that ‘something’ have to include naked men?” He asks, even though he already knows he’s going to agree to whatever Alex has planned. That’s how their relationship works and always has. Alex comes up with the crazy schemes, Blaine goes along with pretty much anything to stop people from being upset with him, and Henry usually acquiesces because if not...the other two would probably end up in jail.

Alex smiles like he knows he’s close, “Come on. You don’t think Tiny would get a kick out of naked men dancing for her? And besides, Blaine and I will enjoy it just as much!” He waggles his eyebrows lewdly. Alex really is a charismatic, nice guy...once you see past the frat boy exterior.

Henry sighs again as he shuffles his papers. He could mention that while Blaine and Alex (being gay and pansexual respectively) would get a kick out of a male strip club, he (as a straight man) probably wouldn’t. But...in the end he loves his brothers and sister too much to refuse…

...especially with Blaine now fully on board and the two of them looking at Henry like he has the keys to all of their hopes and dreams.

“Oh, fine.” He grumbles, even though he smiles.

The other two cheer and Henry rolls his eyes as they begin to make plans and he goes back to his notes.

-- -- --

Blaine leans over and gives Alex a brief hug as their cab pulls up in front of Blaine’s apartment later that night, “Night Al.” He says.

Alex smiles, “Night Blainers.”

Blaine’s got one foot out of the cab when Alex calls his name. He turns and raises a questioning brow at his brother, “Don’t forget to check your Tinder.” He waggles his eyebrows much like earlier. Alex spends a lot of his time waggling his eyebrows.

Blaine chuckles and rolls his eyes, “It’s not Tinder. It’s just...a regular dating app.”

Blaine’s not ashamed of the fact that he’s trying online dating. He’s a 26-year-old single man in New York City and at least half the world is online dating. It’s worth a try. And it’s not like he’s Alex who trips and falls (sometimes literally) over a new sexual partner almost every day or Henry who is married to his job. He’s just covering his bases.

Alex smiles, “Well, just be sure to check it. And remember, only swipe right if it looks like they have a big penis.”

Blaine rolls his eyes again before giving his brother the middle finger and getting out of the car. He stands on the curb as the cab pulls into traffic on its way to Alex’s apartment ten minutes away, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket after getting hit with the wind of a late September evening chill.

When the cab turns a corner and is no longer in sight, Blaine turns and makes his way into his apartment building. It’s not the most posh of buildings but it’s comfortable. It’s home. And Blaine is proud of the fact that he is able to afford it without having to rely on his parents’ money. They’ve offered, sure, but Blaine has never wanted to rely on his parents that much.

His building is quiet this late at night and Blaine doesn’t pass a single person on his way to the fifth floor. He lets himself into his apartment, toes off his shoes, hangs up his jacket, and throws his keys into the bowl on the front table before making his way to the couch and collapsing onto it with a sigh.

Despite his eye roll at his brother, the first thing he does upon sitting down is check his dating app, ConnectSingle. It’s definitely not Tinder, no swiping of any kind required, but Blaine enjoys the fact that both parties need to indicate interest (by clicking a happy face on their basic profile) before they can contact each other or even view their whole profile. And while he feels like it’s slightly shallow, Blaine has definitely used that function to weed out some of the less...aesthetically pleasing requests.

He’s actually only communicated with three guys so far and only met up with one in person (...it didn’t go well), but he’s optimistic he’ll find someone he can really connect with. And if not? Well, he hasn’t really lost anything in trying.

He first checks to see who has given him a smiley face today. Three men seem to enjoy the picture Henry had taken of him on the beach, sunglasses reflecting the ocean and curls loose and billowing in the wind, and he considers each of their pictures before deleting them all. He feels slightly bad but figures if you sign up to online dating not expecting to be rejected sometimes, you’re doing it wrong.

He then flips to his ‘daily matches’ - men the app thinks he might like. He hems and haws over their basic profiles and decides to smiley face two; a redhead named Andy (who appeals to the side of Blaine that enjoys larger men) and a brown haired man named Kurt (who has great hair, great eyes, and a smirk Blaine may be interested in knowing more about).

It’s not as immediately satisfying as he would like it to be, clicking the smiley face. Nothing happens other than a yellow smiley face rises slightly above his thumb and then winks out, leaving a static yellow smiley face behind, but he feels accomplished.

He closes the app and stretches on the couch, glancing at the clock to notice it’s almost 1 am. He doesn’t have anywhere immediate to go in the morning, perks of being an on call studio musician, but figures just in case he gets a call he should go to bed.

Without thinking of ConnectSingles again, he goes about his evening routine, plugs his phone in and is asleep twenty minutes later.

-- -- --

Alex could go home. It’s where he told his brother and, more importantly, the cab driver he’d be going. But as the cab driver pulls away from the curb he gets a text from his friend, Elliott, telling him he should meet him at a bar.

Alex shrugs and tells the cab driver to change his final destination. It doesn’t take much to convince Alex to go out.

When he gets to the bar, he finds Elliott leaning against the brick front wall. He’s got a foot propped up behind him, a bare knee poking out of ripped black jeans, and a cigarette burning from his lips as he looks down at his phone.

“I must reiterate - as a performer you really shouldn’t smoke.” Alex says by way of a greeting.

Elliott looks up from his phone and smirks as he pulls the cigarette from between his lips, “Old habits die hard.” He says with a shrug before flicking the mostly unsmoked cigarette to the ground and pulling Alex into a hug, “Good to see you, man.”

“You too.” Alex says returning the hug, “Any particular reason you dragged me out of bed on this cold night to meet you at a bar at 1 am?”

Elliott rolls his eyes, “If you were in bed, I promise that was the last smoke of my life.”

Alex purses his lips to hide his smile before sighing, “Damnit, fine, I wasn’t in bed.” Elliott laughs and puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder, pulling him forward into the bar.

The noise from inside the bar gets unsurprisingly louder as they enter but luckily not so loud that it makes talking impossible. They may have to raise their voices slightly to be heard but Alex knows he won’t be leaving with burst ear drums.

“We were just having a really great night and I thought you should be a part of it.” Elliott explains.

Alex nods, enjoying that Elliott thought to include him, “We?” He asks as they make their way to the bar.

Elliott shrugs, “Just a bunch of people from the theatre.” He calls.

It’s not wall to wall packed in the bar but it’s busy enough that Alex accidentally runs into someone on their walk from the door to the bar. He ‘oofs’ at the impact and then is immediately apologetic as the person he hit turns around.

The words die on his lips when a set of cool blue eyes make eye contact with him. An eyebrow is quirked above those eyes and pink lips wrap around a straw as they regard Alex. Alex notices the slight pull in of the cheeks attached to the lips as they suck up liquid.

He’s broken from his stare when Elliott laughs, “Alex? Kurt. Kurt? Alex.”

Alex feels Elliott pat his shoulder a few times before the other man is gone, leaving Kurt and Alex still looking at each other. Alex watches as Kurt’s tongue flicks out to play with the straw still between his lips and Alex is transfixed.

“Hi.” He breathes, suddenly wishing he had worn a better outfit to Henry’s than his faded jeans and white button up shirt with tiny rubber ducks on it.

“Hi.” Kurt answers back with a smile.

-- -- --

Henry fidgets the next morning as he sits outside the office the nice receptionist directed him to. His knee bounces and he shuffles through the papers in his folder, wishing he could stop the sweat he can feel building under his suit jacket.

He’s prepared, he knows he is, but a job interview for a large production company is a lot different than working out of a one room studio with guys you went to college with.

Henry checks his watch and realizes he’s probably got another ten minutes to wait - he’s always extremely early to all things, something he wishes he could teach his brother.

As if summoned by Henry’s thought, his phone buzzes in his pocket and a text from Alex pops up.

Alex

You got this brother! Now I’m going back to sleep.

Henry chuckles softly and doesn’t bother to respond. Alex is probably already asleep again.

He’s still looking at his phone when a second text comes in, this time from Blaine.

Blaine

You are more than ready for this, Henry. Call me after to let me know how it goes.

Henry smiles at the texts on his screen and feel bolstered by their support. He texts Blaine back to thank him and tell him he will call him after, before pocketing his phone and going back to bouncing his knee.

“Can I...get you something to drink?” A hesitant voice asks to Henry’s left.

He jumps slightly and turns to find a well dressed man with high chestnut hair and a soft smile looking at him like you might a spooked animal.

Henry chuckles and can feel his cheeks blush slightly in embarrassment at how ridiculous he must look, “The receptionist already offered and I’m good. But thank you.”

The man nods but doesn’t immediately depart. Instead he continues to look at Henry with a calculating expression, “Job interview?” He asks, finally.

Henry bites his lip, “Is it that obvious?”

The man shrugs and gestures to the seat next to Henry. Henry also gestures to the seat with a nod and the man sits, crossing one long leg over the other, “I don’t think anyone else would notice. I just recall with ridiculous clarity my own nerves when I interviewed for a job here.”

Henry nods, “But obviously it went well for you.”

The man seems to preen, his swooped hair swaying slightly as he shakes his head and Henry finds himself smiling, “Obviously.” The man says and while it should come across as cocky, it doesn’t and Henry finds his nerves easing. The man smiles and holds out a hand, “Kurt.” He says.

Henry takes the hand and shakes it warmly, “Henry.”

Kurt smiles, “Well, Henry, what do you say I take you out for a coffee to celebrate after your interview?”

And suddenly Henry is nervous again but this time it has nothing to do with his interview.

-- -- --

Blaine stretches like a cat in a sun spot and hums as he squints at the bright sun shining through his bedroom window. He loves to wake up to the sun.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand and he rolls over to grab it. He’s got three notifications on his phone. One is a text from Alex sent at 3:43 am.

Alex

Duuuuuude you will not believe the night I’ve had!

Blaine chuckles and figures texting Alex back now would yield no fruit. It’s only 9 am, Alex would be asleep for hours yet.

The second notification is reminding him that Henry has a job interview this morning. He silently thanks himself for setting the reminder and quickly shoots a text to his brother for support.

The last notification is from ConnectSingle. Blaine has a match! It’s not quite as exciting as it was when he first got the app but he’ll admit to a tiny thrill going through him at the prospect of mutual interest. He wonders if it’s Andy or Kurt from last night or one of the other people he’s smiley faced in the past.

He thumbs open the app and notices first that Andy’s name is no longer on his ‘pending’ list which means the other man deleted Blaine’s profile. It stings a little but then he smiles when he sees a green smiley face next to Kurt’s name and picture (indicating a reciprocated interest) and an email attachment. He presses the email and settles back against the pillow to read what his new match has to say.

Blaine,

Hi! My name’s Kurt. Though I guess you already knew that... (Blaine chuckles softly) Anyway! Thank you for ‘smiling’ at me. You have a great actual smile :) I’d be interested to learn more about you - your profile says you’re a musician? Message me back if you’re interested in chatting!

Kurt

It’s simple but it still makes Blaine kicky feet just the tiniest bit under his blankets. He bites his lip and reads the message again before opening a reply box and typing his own message back.

Kurt

Hello! It’s great to ‘meet’ you. You also have a really great smile and might I add you have stunning eyes (is ‘stunning’ too much for a first email?) I am a musician! I’m a freelance studio musician, which, believe it or not, makes me a pretty decent living. Your profile says you like cars - Driving them? Working on them? Sitting in them? (I promise not to judge if it’s the last one). Hope to hear from you soon!

Blaine :)

As always, Blaine reads his message four times before hitting send and then rereads it again for any stupid things he may have said. He’s pretty happy with what he sent though and as he heads to the shower he’s already anticipating Kurt’s response.

-- -- --

“You are a God among men!” Alex exclaims as he walks out the front entrance to his apartment building later that afternoon to find Blaine standing outside with a coffee cup extended in one hand.

Blaine chuckles as his brother takes the cup, slings an arm around his shoulder and noisily kisses his cheek, “Well, I figured you would have just gotten up.” Blaine says as the pair start to walk down the street.

Alex hums around a sip of delicious coffee before nodding, “Within the last hour.”

“I still don’t understand how you can sustain this lifestyle.” Blaine says with a shake of his head. He knows that, out of the three of them, Alex relies most heavily on their parents to make ends meet and that his job as an evening bread baker at a small bakery means he doesn’t work typical hours (though who is Blaine to talk?) but sometimes he worries that Alex isn’t taking care of himself as well as he could.

Alex fidgets with the beanie he has on over his undoubtedly messy brown hair and shrugs with an easy smile, “Hey, man, when it works, it works.”

Blaine nods to concede the point, for now, as they round the corner on the street the bakery Alex works at is on, “So, what was so unbelievable about your night last night?”

Alex perks up at the mention and seems to skip along next to Blaine, “I met someone!”

Blaine rolls his eyes affectionately, “You are always ‘meeting someone’.”

Alex nods but smacks Blaine lightly, “I know but this guy is different. He’s...amazing!”

Blaine smiles, “Well, I’m happy for you.” He says, “Are you seeing him again?”

Sometimes, Blaine gets jealous over how easily Alex meets people. Granted as a pansexual, his pool of potential partners is larger than Blaine’s, but there’s just something so magnetic about Alex and he doesn’t seem to have any insecurities holding him back.

Alex presses his lips together and nods, “Tomorrow night!”

Blaine tries not to let his shock show. For as often as Alex hooks up with people, he usually doesn’t see the same person more than once. Blaine has asked that question of Alex a lot and usually gets a shrug and a ‘probably not’. Now, Alex seems genuinely excited.

“That’s amazing. Did you sleep with him last night?” Blaine asks as they come to a stop outside Alex’s work.

“Now, Blainers, you know a man does not kiss and tell!” Alex scoffs but then smirks, “But...there was kissing.” And there is the eyebrow waggle.

Blaine laughs, “Well, you’ll have to keep me updated.” He says.

“Speaking of updated,” Alex says, “Have you heard from our enigmatic big brother today about his interview?”

Blaine furrows his brow, “Not since before it happened. I told him to call me afterwards.”

Alex pouts his lips thoughtfully, “Maybe it went so well he had to go home and masturbate to his work success.”

Blaine half laughs and half groans, “That is not a visual I needed.” Alex shrugs with a chuckle, “But I’ll message him and find out how it went. Have a good shift. I’ll see Friday at Mom and Dad’s?”

Alex nods, “Okay, let me know what he says.” Because texting Henry himself would be too much work?, “And you sure will see me Friday, baby brother!”

Blaine rolls his eyes again, “I am not the baby!”

Alex clicks his tongue and shrugs, “Last one out is always the baby.”

“I am literally one minute ‘younger’ than you.” Blaine huffs complete with sarcastic finger quotes.

“And what a glorious minute it was.” Alex says with a wistful sigh and then dodges when Blaine tries to hit him in the head.

Alex waves without further ado and then heads into the bakery to start his shift, leaving Blaine on the sidewalk to pull out his phone. He’s about to open his text app to message Henry when a red bubbled one by the ConnectSingles app draws his attention.

He opens it with a giddy flutter of his stomach to find a new message from Kurt. He starts walking down the crowded street while he opens the email to read it (he’s lived in New York all his life, he’s an expert at phone reading and dodging people at the same time).

Blaine,

‘Freelance studio musician’ sounds fascinating. Do you know how to play a lot of instruments? As for my interest in cars, it’s all about working on them (who enjoys just sitting in cars? :P lol). My dad owns a garage in my hometown and I’ve been fixing cars since I could hold a wrench. I think he secretly wanted me to take over the business but fixing cars was always a hobby, not a vocation for me.

...Is that an overshare for a second message? I’m fairly new to this online thing. If it is, pretend I didn’t say anything.

Musicals! (I’m very good at subtly subject changes…) Are you a fan of musicals? I don’t like to assume just because a person is gay but I love musicals. They’re a big part of my life. So, I like to know right off the bat if I’m talking to a like minded person.

Talk soon?

Kurt

Blaine can feel the goofy smile on his face and isn’t sure why he feels the need to try and tamp it down. It’s New York City, there are way weirder things happening than a guy smiling down at his phone. He can’t get over how adorable Kurt seems just from two messages. He usually likes to play it slow, wait a while after receiving a message before messaging back but he opens the return message box immediately and crafts a response at the next stop light.

Kurt

I do know how to play a lot of instruments. I’m kind of a jack of all trades but master of none type? My parents put me in piano when I was kid and it’s actually the only instrument I’m classically trained in. Everything else I just picked up along the way. I think my parents secretly wanted me to be a concert pianist but classical music was always more a hobby than a true vocation for me (I don’t think you overshared but just in case you still think you did...I thought I’d ‘overshare’ back :)

I absolutely love musicals! Don’t ask me to pick a favourite, I simply couldn’t. Do you have a favourite? Let me guess...Wicked? You strike me as someone who would really appreciate the brilliance of Idina and Kristin. But maybe I’m wrong - I’m happy either way!

Blaine :)

P.S. You said your dad has a garage in your hometown? Where’s that? I grew up in Manhattan myself.

Blaine’s almost home by the time he finishes typing and he hits send before he can second guess himself. On his way up the stairs, he dials Henry’s number only to have the phone go to voicemail. Blaine’s brow furrows as he gets to his apartment. It’s not like his brother always picks up the phone when he calls, it’s just unusual when he doesn’t.

Shrugging, Blaine texts Henry to get him to call him back when he has a moment and then he starts about making dinner. He tries very hard not to check his phone compulsively for a message from Kurt.

-- -- --

Henry is in the middle of an existential crisis.

He hates to think of it as such. Out of his brothers he’s the level-headed one. Always has been. Blaine has an existential crisis every second week and Alex is too laid back to have anything resembling a crisis of any kind about anything ever. But Henry is always the one who thinks things through. Who sees pros and cons and the black and white of everything and comes to a logical conclusion about all things...

...this afternoon had felt anything but logical or black and white…

He’d walked out of the two hour interview with shaking hands but a smile on his face and a contract in his pocket. He was elated if not a little shaken by the whole experience. He’d almost bumped into Kurt standing just down the hall from the room the interview had taken place.

“So?” Kurt had said with a hopeful expression, “Are we coworkers? Am I taking you out for celebratory coffee?”

Henry had smiled at the man and nodded, “They offered me a job.”

Kurt’s face had lit up and while Henry’s first thought had been to wonder why this virtual stranger was so invested in whether he got a job or not, Kurt’s obvious joy made Henry’s joy that much more palpable.

“Well, then, shall we head to the coffee shop? Drinks on me, obviously.”

And then he winked.

It had hit Henry suddenly, and probably would have hit him sooner had he not been so worked up about his interview, that he was being hit on. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been hit on by a guy and he likes to think even if he didn’t have one gay brother and one pansexual brother that he would have been evolved enough to not be offended or hostile but usually when faced with this situation he would smile politely and say he wasn’t interested.

At that moment, however, he hadn’t wanted to say ‘no’...so he hadn’t.

“That sounds great.” He’d smiled.

Their coffee date had been amazing. Henry had spent the first hour after getting home trying to tell himself it hadn’t been a date but has come to the acceptance part of his crisis. It had been a date. A date with a man. A date with a man he’d actually enjoyed.

Kurt had bought the drinks and then the pair had sat across from each other at the small coffee shop talking about the job Henry had just gotten and what Kurt did for the company (he runs costume design for the theatrical branch of the production company). They talked about musicals (Henry had actually mentally thanked Blaine for forcing him to watch so many over the years), and they talked about football (only briefly after Henry realized it wasn’t up Kurt’s alley).

When Kurt had said he needed to get home, Henry had actually felt bereft. He knew even in that moment he needed to go home and freak out about what exactly was happening but he also didn’t want whatever was happening to end.

They had exchanged phone numbers and Kurt had told him he’d see him the next day at work. And then he winked again. Henry can still feel the blush from that wink almost two hours later.

When his phone buzzed with a phone call from Blaine an hour and a half into his crisis, he’d let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t in a place to talk to his brother. He wasn’t even sure what he would say. ‘Hey, Blaine! Yeah, I got a job and a boyfriend today!’

That thought had caused a spiral that Henry has been in for the last half hour. He does NOT have a boyfriend and one coffee date does not an anything make let alone a boyfriend but the fact that he had the thought means he’s thinking about Kurt in that way. He’s thinking about a man in a romantic way. This is not something he’s ever experienced before.

And suddenly, Blaine seems like the perfect person to talk to about this.

He gropes from his prone position on his couch for the phone he’d tossed onto the coffee table when it had rung with Blaine’s call. He dials his brother’s number and puts a hand over his eyes while he waits for the call to connect.

“Hey!” Blaine answers, happily, “How’d it go?”

Henry knows Blaine is asking about the interview but again his thoughts go to Kurt. He shakes his head to rid himself of the impulsive thought and answers Blaine’s question, “I got it.” He says.

Blaine whoops on the other end of the line, “I knew you would! That is amazing!”

Henry smiles, “Thanks.”

Suddenly, Blaine’s celebration dies off, “Why do you not sound over the moon about this? Is this because of Vance? He was the one who told you to go for this!” Vance is one of Henry’s best friends, one of the men he works with (or he figures it’s now ‘worked’ with). Vance had indeed pushed Henry to interview for the larger company.

“No, no. It’s not about Vance.” Henry answers.

“Then what is it?” Blaine asks and the earnestness in Blaine’s voice opens a flood gate.

“I met someone today.” Henry confesses.

“Oh!” He can tell Blaine is suprised. Henry doesn’t date. Hasn’t had a girlfriend since his junior year of high school. He’ll unpack what exactly that says about him later… “And that’s upsetting?” Blaine asks.

Henry grimaces, “Not in and of itself, I guess.” He starts, “It’s just...it’s a guy?” He says it like a question and then feels slightly queasy afterwards.

The line is silent for a long time, longer than Henry can stand without starting to feel even sicker, before Blaine lets out a breath, “That’s...awesome.”

Henry scrunches his eyes closed, “I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

He can almost picture Blaine nodding on the other end of the line, “And nor do you have to.” Blaine reassures, “Just answer me one thing: did you have fun with him?”

“Yes.” Henry answers.

“Then focus on that.” Blaine says and Henry can hear the smile in his voice, “Leave the other stuff to the side for now. I know you, and I know you want to figure everything out and this puts a little bit of a kink into the careful order of your life but if it makes you happy then that’s all that matters.”

Henry lets out of a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding. Blaine’s words unravel a knot he’s felt in his chest all afternoon and while he knows he’s not done freaking out about this, he’s willing to allow the happiness to overpower it. Blaine had been the right one to call.

“And Henry, if you have any...questions or you just need to talk things out, you know I’m only a phone call away, right?” Henry nods into the phone, getting a little choked up at the offer.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He breathes out.

“Anytime.” Blaine says, “Now, do you want to tell me more about your job or your date?”

Henry bites his lip as he smiles, “Both?”

“I’m all ears.” Blaine says.

-- -- --

The next night, Alex leaves work to once again find a man on the sidewalk waiting for him but instead of his brother, this time it’s Kurt. He smiles at the man and waves as he approaches.

Kurt waves back before putting his hand back into the pocket of his jacket where it had emerged from, “Hey. It’s good to see you again.” He says.

Alex smiles, “Same to you.”

They stare at each other for a few beats before Kurt tilts his head over his shoulder, “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat?”

Alex chuckles, “Uh, that sounds nice but I have to admit, working at a bakery means I rarely leave a shift hungry. Samples and all that.”

Kurt chuckles as well and then shrugs, “Then what did you have in mind?”

Alex has a few things in mind and when he smiles at Kurt, who smiles back, he figures Kurt is thinking the same thing.

“I have some snacks at my apartment?” Alex offers with a grin.

He can see Kurt’s cheeks pink slightly as the other man ducks his head in an adorably, flirtatious way, “Lead the way.”

-- -- --

Blaine scrolls through his messages from Kurt over the past four days on the train to his parents’ place. He’s got more messages in their thread than he does in all his other threads combined. He actually hasn’t messaged anyone else since he and Kurt started talking but even if he had, he is sure the frequency with which they chat would have surpassed any other conversation Blaine would be having.

The pair have covered so many topics in their messages that Blaine wonders if there is anything left to share. He hasn’t shared this much about himself so fast to another person ever, let alone a person he’s never met in person. Usually by the time he knows this much about a person they’ve been dating for a few months. He and Kurt have been messaging for four days…

He’s just finished drafting an email suggesting that he and Kurt meet up when he gets to his stop. He hits send and then pockets his phone before exiting the train and taking the stairs to the surface. The air is colder than he expected and he hunkers down in his coat for the five minute walk to his parents’ brownstone. His childhood home.

He’s turning onto their street when he sees Henry coming from the other direction. He throws a hand up in a wave that his brother returns and they make their way toward each other. They haven’t really talked since their phone call but Blaine knows Henry usually needs to work things out in his own head first. He’ll come to Blaine when and if he needs to.

“Hey.” Blaine says when they meet up outside the house, embracing his brother in a hug that has him standing on his tiptoes.

“Hey.” Henry answers before they pull away from each other.

“Everything...okay?” Blaine asks, not wanting to push.

Henry smiles, “Getting there, yeah.” He says.

Blaine smiles and nods, appeased for now, and the pair make their way up the stairs to the front door. It opens before they get there to reveal a tiny ball of energy on the other side.

“My boys!” Amelia Anderson shouts for the whole street to hear and then launches herself into first Blaine’s arms and then Henry’s.

Both men laugh as they absorb their sister’s hug. Amelia is four years younger than her brothers and at twenty-two years old is only five foot three inches tall, prompting her brothers to nickname her…

“Hey Tiny!” Blaine smiles.

Amelia smiles back before gesturing for the men to come inside, “Come, come. Dinner’s almost ready and Al’s already here talking to Dad about some new spice for bread?” She shrugs as Henry and Blaine take off their coats and shoes.

“Is that my other two boys?” The trio hear called from, undoubtedly, the kitchen before Fiona Anderson emerges.

“Mama!” Henry says, pulling their mother to him.

“Oh, it just fills my heart to the brim when all my babies are home.” Fiona gushes as she turns to pull Blaine into a hug and then Amelia even though Amelia lives in the house and has probably been there all day. Their mother is never short on hugs.

“It’s good to be home.” Blaine smiles.

Fiona reaches out and strokes his olive-toned cheek with her pale hand, “Go say hello to your father before dinner.” She says before shooing them in the direction of the living room.

When they enter, Blaine sees Alex showing their father, Daniel Anderson, something on his phone. Daniel looks up when they enter and smiles large, patting Alex’s arm in apparent apology before getting up to hug his other sons.

“My boys.” Daniel says reverently, cupping both Henry and Blaine’s cheeks in his hands and looking between them.

Blaine loves his parents, even if they act like they haven’t seen their children in months when it’s really been only a week. The Anderson’s grew up with family dinners every Sunday and the tradition continued even with the three boys moving out on their own.

“Tell me what’s new.” Daniel asks, sitting back down as Blaine and Henry sit next to Alex on the couch after saying hello and Amelia settles on the ground by the coffee table.

The five chat about work and other sundry topics until their mother calls them for dinner. They settle into their usual spots.

“No Sam tonight?” Blaine asks, noticing the spot next to Amelia, usually reserved for her fiance, is empty.

“He’s at work.” Amelia offers, “Though he has made me promise to bring him leftovers.” She says and Fiona laughs.

“I’ll wrap some up after dinner if your brothers don’t eat it all.” She says with an affectionate glance at the three men sitting along one side of the table.

Dinner conversation is more the same as their conversation in the den until Amelia gets a sneaky look on her face, “So...anybody dating anyone new?”

Blaine swallows and feels the weight of his phone in his jeans pocket more acutely. He’s not nervous to tell his family about Kurt, he just doesn’t know how to tell them and his family can be...a lot sometimes when it comes to relationships. Or anything really.

He glances at his brothers, who are looking back at him and then at each other. Blaine wonders if he’s the only one who knows they actually all have something to tell.

In the end, they all shrug.

“Nothing to report.” Alex answers, seemingly for all of them.

Mercifully, talk turns away from their dating lives and to Amelia’s upcoming wedding. Blaine’s actually surprised it has taken them this long into the evening to start talking about it (it sometimes feels like it’s all they talk about) and Blaine enjoys the excited squeal Amelia gives when Alex mentions their plan to take her out.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he jolts slightly at the table. His fingers itch to pull his phone out but the rule has always been no phones at the table. He’ll have to wait until he’s on his way home. The waiting is torture even though he loves hanging out with his family.

When they finally wrap up the evening with several rounds of hugs, Blaine and Alex make their way to the subway together (after seeing Henry off in the other direction to a different train).

Blaine’s got his phone out as soon as he’s sitting in the, thankfully, sparsely populated car.

“Any plans for the night?” Alex asks as he lounges next to Blaine, munching on left over rolls from dinner.

Blaine doesn’t answer right away - instead reading the last message from Kurt.

Blaine

I’m glad I’m not the only one who feels like I know so much about you before we’ve even met. I’d love to meet up in person. I know you said you’ll be at your parents house tonight but...any chance I can interest you in a nightcap? We could meet at Coffee Project whenever you're done at your parents? Text me if you’re interested :)

Kurt

212-967-1253

Blaine has no idea where Coffee Project is but he’s already looking up directions when Alex hits him.

“Uh, what?” He asks, looking up in a daze.

Alex quirks an eyebrow at him, “I asked if you had plans for tonight.”

Blaine smiles, “I do now.”

-- -- --

Blaine opens the door to Coffee Project a half hour later and even though it’s late, a few heads turn at the sound of the bell over the door. Blaine’s hoping one of the heads is Kurt’s and he has a fleeting moment to hope Kurt actually looks like his profile picture when his worries are assuaged by a swivelling head at a table near the back.

Kurt looks exactly like his profile picture except he’s even better looking in person. The way his eyes light up when he sees Blaine at the door is something you can’t really capture in a picture.

“Hey!” Kurt enthuses when Blaine gets close. He’s up out of his seat and pulling Blaine into his arms before Blaine can say anything.

It should feel strange to hug someone he’s never met but it doesn’t. He’s met Kurt in every way except the physical (not that he hasn’t thought about the physical...but he digresses), so it feels natural to hug him close.

“Hi.” Blaine whispers as they part and sit on either side of the table.

“I ordered you a medium drip with some cinnamon. I hope that’s okay? You mentioned it was your drink of choice.” Kurt seems a little nervous but he’s smiling excitedly and even if Kurt was just nervous, Blaine’s excited enough for the both of them.

“No, that’s perfect.” He says, lifting his cup in a cheers motion before taking a sip.

Kurt shifts in his seat, “So, I know this is technically our first date but every topic of conversation I could think of while I waited for you we’ve already covered in our emails. This doesn’t feel like a first date.”

Blaine shakes his head, “It really doesn’t.”

Kurt nods, “How was your parents’ house?”

“It was wonderful as usual.” Blaine smiles and Kurt smiles back.

They make small talk for a while, complete with goofy grins at each other, before Blaine scratches his chin and looks out the front window, “What is it?” Kurt asks.

Blaine coughs and loses his nerve at the last moment to ask Kurt back to his place. He may feel like he’s known this man for a lot longer than four days virtually and about an hour in person, but the reality is they don’t know each other at all. And Blaine’s romantic nature is screaming at him to take this slow because this could be the real deal. He doesn’t want his baser instincts to scare Kurt off.

He shakes his head with a smile, “Nothing. Do you want to go for a walk?”

It’s probably a little too cold for a walk outside but Manhattan seems to glow around them as they walk slowly through the still populated street. It’s one of Blaine’s favourite things about New York - it truly never sleeps.

“So you said your brother is taking over the garage from your dad when he retires?” Blaine says as they follow a path through a small park.

Kurt nods, “Yeah. I sometimes wonder if my dad is secretly disappointed I never wanted to take it over.”

Blaine shrugs, “Are you the oldest?”

Kurt pouts slightly before ‘ah’ing and then chuckling, “Did I not mention Finn is my step-brother? Not my biological brother?”

“You did not.” Blaine answers and the pair laugh.

Kurt stops at a rusty swing set in the park and sits down on one, curling one arm around the chain. Blaine sits next to him and mirrors his position. The metal is freezing under his palm but he leaves his hand where it is and rocks his feet in the sand to swing himself back and forth slightly.

“My dad remarried when I was fifteen.” Kurt shares, “To the mother of a boy at my school. Same grade as me. It was...interesting.”

“Were you two friends in school?” Blaine asks.

Kurt chuckles slightly, but Blaine’s not sure why the question was funny, “Not really.” Kurt answers, “At all. We didn’t run in the same circles. His circle was more interested in making my circle’s life hell. Me specifically.”

Blaine feels instantly angry at people he’s never met. He pictures a younger Kurt getting bullied and wants to punch someone. He tries to tell himself his anger comes only from his own similar school experience.

“He was never really someone who bullied me. He just...didn’t do anything about it either. But then things started to change. It took a while - even after our parents married - but now I sometimes forget to tell people he’s my stepbrother.” Kurt shrugs, “He’s just been my brother for a lot of years now.”

Blaine smiles at the soft smile on Kurt’s face before the other man’s face is scrunching up, “I’m once again oversharing too soon, aren’t I?” He asks, “I’m, honestly, not usually like this.”

Blaine shifts so he’s more fully facing Kurt on the swing, “Hey, no. It’s totally fine. I…” He hesitates, “I want to know everything about you.”

Kurt’s eyes light up and he gives a little inhale through a slightly open mouth. Blaine can’t be one hundred percent sure, because the lighting isn’t amazing, but he thinks he sees Kurt’s cheeks pinken.

Blaine shrugs, “And if it helps you any, I once walked in on my parents having sex when I was fifteen and they sat me down the next day and gave me a very indepth, and scarring, sex talk.”

His anecdote has the desired effect and Kurt laughs heartily. Blaine smiles at the lyrical sound.

Kurt puts a hand up to his mouth as his laugh turns into a chuckle, “Are you serious? Or did you just make that up to make me feel better about oversharing?”

Blaine winces slightly which just makes Kurt laugh more, “Unfortunately, I am completely serious. I couldn’t think of anything remotely sexual for months after.”

This admission only makes Kurt laugh again.

-- -- --

A half hour, and one slide down the red metal slide at the park for each of them later, Kurt and Blaine walk toward Kurt’s apartment. Blaine actually feels himself slowing his pace. Despite the late hour, he doesn’t want this night to end.

“I had a really good time tonight.” He says.

Kurt smiles, “So did I.”

They come to a stop outside Kurt’s building and they hesitate, facing each other with shy smiles and hands stuffed in their coat pockets for warmth.

“I’d really like to see you again.” Blaine says.

Kurt bites his lip slightly and, even though it’s a cliche, Blaine’s eyes dip down at the movement before flicking back up.

“I’d really like to see you again as well.” Kurt whispers and then Blaine can take it no longer. He’s been waiting all night.

Without preamble, he pulls one hand from his pocket and rests it on Kurt’s elbow before ducking in and up and pressing his lips to Kurt’s. Kurt breathes in quickly before he’s kissing back. It’s short but amazing and they pull back with equally breathless expressions.

“Good night, Kurt. I’ll text you.” Blaine whispers, still leaning into Kurt’s space.

Kurt blinks at him before smiling, “Night Blaine. And not if I text you first.”

And then with a wink, Kurt pulls away and walks toward his building. He turns at the door to wave at Blaine over his shoulder with another smile, and Blaine waves back before Kurt enters the building and out of his sight.

Blaine has to quell the impulse to jump and click his heels together in joy before making his way down the street to hail a cab home.

-- -- --

Two days later, Henry sits at a counter by himself. There are people around but none of them give much notice to the nervous man at the counter whose knee is bouncing so frantically that Henry is sure he’s going to injure himself.

He keeps glancing around, eyes darting around the room like at any moment someone is going to come and arrest him just for sitting. Well, if he’s being honest it’s not the sitting he thinks he’s going to be arrested for.

He shakes his head at the thought. He’s not going to get arrested for any of this. Ugh, he should have called Blaine again before this.

“Hey!” He hears from behind him and spins to see Kurt standing there. He’s unwinding a scarf from his neck and he looks...beautiful. It’s the only way Henry can describe him.

“Hi.” Henry says around a suddenly dry mouth.

Kurt smiles and looks around as he takes his jacket off, “So...bowling.” He says and his smile turns slightly confused.

Henry coughs, “Uh yeah. Is that okay? I...it felt like a good idea.”

Kurt smiles, “I haven’t been bowling in years, and I’ll admit I’m not at all good, but I’m willing to give it a shot...” He pauses and looks down the counter toward where a man is handing out bowling shoes, “as long as I can get shoes that go with my outfit.”

Henry laughs, nervously, before his eyes are once again darting around. He had almost convinced himself that his wandering eyes before had been in search of Kurt but now that Kurt is here…

His eyes land back on Kurt who is looking at him with a serious face. Henry shifts under the gaze and tries to laugh again but it comes out as more of a groan to his ears.

Kurt licks his lips (and Henry jolts when he realizes how easily his eyes followed the motion) before the other man is nodding, “Hey, I’m kind of hungry. Do you mind if we grab something to eat before bowling? I saw a little cafe down the street.”

Henry feels his chest expand and suddenly getting out of the crowded bowling alley seems like the best idea ever. He nods and grabs his coat while Kurt puts his own back on. They walk in companionable silence to the cafe at the end of the street and it is mercifully empty except for a kind looking waiter around their age and what sounds like a cook in the back room kitchen.

“Hi!” The waiter smiles, “Have a seat wherever and I’ll be right with you.”

Kurt gestures to the back of the cafe and the pair sit opposite each other in a booth. By the time they take off their jackets and lay them down beside them the waiter is at their table with menus.

“Can I start you with a drink?” He asks.

“I’ll just have a coffee.” Kurt smiles.

“Same.” Henry says when the waiter looks at him. The waiter nods and then leaves them alone.

The pair is quiet once they are alone and Henry can feel Kurt’s gaze on him. Henry is more comfortable in the cafe but he’s still not COMFORTABLE.

“Can I ask you something?” Kurt asks softly. Henry nods but Kurt waits while the waiter puts down their drinks, says he’ll be back later to take their orders, and leaves before continuing, “Are you married?”

Henry chokes on the sip of coffee he is drinking and he sputters and coughs. Kurt waits with a slightly quirked eyebrow and smirk while Henry calms and then laughs, “No. No, I’m not married.”

Kurt smiles fully, “Okay. That’s good. For my purposes anyway.” He says, “Can I ask you something else?” Henry indicates for him to go ahead, “Is this the first time you’ve gone out with a guy?”

Henry lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’s been holding and can feel himself start to shake a little. Kurt folds his hands in front him lightly and just gives him a soft, open smile and slowly Henry calms enough to nod.

Kurt nods, “Well, don’t I feel special?” He says, swiping a hand over the chestnut swoop of hair on top of his head. The question makes Henry laugh which he assumes was the point and Kurt breaks character to chuckle with him.

“I’m sorry. I’m kind of a mess.” Henry says after a moment.

Kurt smiles, somewhat sadly, and shakes his head, “You’re not a mess. At all. And besides, you should have seen me at fifteen.” Kurt’s eyes widen briefly as if he’s remembering something terrible.

“Something tells me you were never a mess.” Henry says.

Kurt shrugs, “Well, okay, maybe you aren’t wrong.”

The pair chuckles and then smile at each other for a moment before Henry clears his throat, “I don’t really know what I’m doing but I...like spending time with you.”

Kurt nods, “Then that is what we shall do. Spend time together.” He makes a show of picking up the menu and opening it with a flourish before smiling over at Henry, “I like spending time with you too.”

Henry smiles and breathes easier than he has all day.

-- -- --

Over the next few weeks, final preparations for Amelia’s wedding are in full swing and the Anderson triplets are put to work doing everything from helping to make party favours (to which Alex had said: ‘We’re rich - can’t someone else make these?’), to helping create a playlist for the reception (‘Blaine, you need to help. Sam only wants country!’), to going to final tux fittings, among other things. They also spend a good portion of time planning their night out with Amelia. Alex is in charge of most of the planning for that but Blaine and Henry check in to make sure everything is under control and nothing planned is illegal.

They also spend more time with Kurt. Alex finds for the first time in his twenty-six years, he’s excited about the prospect of seeing where things go with only one guy. Henry is beginning to understand, and freak out less about, his feelings surrounding Kurt and he’s been dipping his toes into the experience (including but not limited to his first kiss with a man - a fact he only freaked out internally, and to Blaine, about a little bit). Blaine gets a breathless feeling whenever he thinks about Kurt, which is often, and he literally has to turn his phone off sometimes to keep from texting the other man continuously.

Somehow, even weeks later, none of them are aware that they are actually dating the same person...but they are all getting closer to asking Kurt to be their date for Amelia’s wedding.

“Hey Tiny?” Blaine asks one night as he and his sister sit in their parents’ living room tying bows onto plastic bags holding green and peach mints.

“Hmmm?” Amelia hums as she focuses on her current bow.

“Is it cool if I invite someone to your wedding?” Blaine asks.

Amelia looks up and lowers her hands, complete with bag and untied bow, to the table with a soft thud. Blaine had realized when he had thought of asking Kurt to the wedding, that because he’d never gotten an actual invitation (‘Your invitation is implied and your acceptance is non-negotiable’ Amelia had told the three of them) he wasn’t sure if he had been granted a plus one. Now, with Amelia looking at him with a shocked expression, he suddenly feels like a plus one had not been something she had intended to extend to him.

But then Amelia had slumped and hit him in the arm lightly, “Of course you can have a plus one!” She says and Blaine smiles before Amelia shrugs, “I had assumed you and Alex would bring someone and then felt bad for not assuming Henry would, so I just planned for three extra people just in case.”

Blaine chuckles, “Well I haven’t asked him yet but...thanks.”

Amelia smiles, “No thanks necessary, Blaine. But there is a condition to having a plus one.” Blaine’s eyebrows lift at his sister’s serious expression as she points at him, “You have to tell me about this amazing man who makes you smile like that.”

-- -- --

Blaine opens the door to his apartment later that week to find Kurt smiling at him from the other side. He smiles back and gestures for Kurt to enter. He watches as Kurt takes in the low lighting and candles on the table set for two in Blaine’s small kitchen.

“Wow! Colour me impressed.” Kurt says as he takes his jacket off.

Blaine chuckles softly and shrugs as he takes the proffered jacket and hangs it in the front closet, “I just wanted something a little...special.”

Kurt gives him a tiny, shy smile and Blaine smiles back before gesturing to the table, “Dinner’s ready so please, have a seat.”

Kurt smiles, “Mind if I wash up first? Subway germs.” He says, spreading his fingers in front of himself in a slight jazz hands motion.

Blaine chuckles, “Dastard subway germs.” He winks before gesturing down the hall, “Bathroom’s the second door on your right.”

Once Kurt has returned and is seated at the table, Blaine grabs the bottle of wine from the counter. He pours some into Kurt’s glass and his own while Kurt takes his napkin and lays it over his lap.

“Are you...planning to purpose tonight?” Kurt jokes when Blaine sits down after serving them each a bowl of pasta.

Blaine chuckles and shakes his head as he looks down at his lap, “It hadn’t crossed my mind, no.” He says looking back up at Kurt to find the other man smirking at him.

“Darn.” Kurt winks before lifting his glass and offering Blaine a toast, “To fancy non-proposal dinners.”

Blaine laughs again and clinks his glass with Kurt’s. They both take a sip, looking at each other over the rims of their glasses, before picking up their forks and beginning to eat.

Kurt moans at his first bite, “This is amazing!” He enthuses.

Blaine coughs at his body’s reaction to the moan before nodding, “Thanks. Old family recipe.”

“Well, if it wouldn’t make this whole situation completely inappropriate, I’d say I’d want to be your new brother just to get this recipe.” Kurt laughs.

Dinner passes with easy, flirtatious conversation and before long the pair is on the couch with their wine. They both have a leg pulled up and are sitting sideways, knees touching, and their bodies get closer and closer as they talk, and before long, they’re kissing.

They’ve shared quite a few kisses by this point but they never fail to take Blaine’s breath away. He curls in closer to Kurt and rests a hand on his thigh as they continue to kiss.

He pulls away after a moment and leans his head against the back of the couch. Kurt does the same and they stare at each other with soft smiles, “I wanted to ask you to be my date to my sister’s wedding.” Blaine whispers into the space between them.

Kurt’s eyes light up, “I love weddings!” He says.

Blaine squeezes Kurt’s thigh, still under his hand, lightly, “So does that mean yes?” He asks.

Kurt nods, “I’d love to.”

Blaine smiles before chuckling, “I guess I should tell you when it is in case you have a prior engagement.”

Kurt scrunches his nose adorably, “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

Blaine can’t resist leaning in to kiss Kurt’s lips at the expression and they kiss for another few moments before Blaine pulls away once more, “December 2nd.” He says.

“I’m there.” Kurt replies before lightly fisting his hand in Blaine’s shirt and pulling him forward.

-- -- --

Unlike Blaine, Alex had always assumed a plus one was just a given for him. He was sure he could find someone to go with to the wedding, and whether he went home with that someone, or someone from the wedding, well...he would just be keeping his options open. That, however, was before Kurt.

Kurt, who made Alex’s heart beat faster every time he thought of him. Kurt, who made Alex laugh and actually laughed at Alex’s jokes in return. Kurt, who was breathtakingly beautiful and enchanting in a way no other person had ever really been for Alex. Kurt, who made Alex understand what it meant to want monogamy for himself and not just as an idea that seemed to work for people like his parents and sister.

Kurt, who is biting his lip when Alex pulls open the door to his apartment and Alex wants to bite that lip himself. Until now there hasn’t been a lot of biting of any kind. Despite Alex’s usual MO, he and Kurt have done nothing more than share kisses, and Alex finds himself wanting more but being okay with waiting.

He must be growing up…

“Hey.” He smiles as he gestures for Kurt to come in.

“Hi.” Kurt whispers and Alex realizes that he’d been so focused on Kurt’s bit lip that he failed to notice how nervous Kurt is acting.

“Everything okay?” Alex asks as he sits on the couch and watches Kurt sit across from him and fidget with the end of his scarf that he hasn’t taken off.

Kurt takes a deep breath and looks up at Alex with a sad smile and Alex’s stomach drops in preparation for what he can sense coming.

“You’re ending this, aren’t you?” Alex asks before Kurt can say anything.

Kurt bites his lip again and turns to look at the coffee table in front of Alex’s couch. Silence stretches between them but Alex doesn’t know how to fill it. He’s never been in this situation before, and the longer Kurt remains silent, the more real the moment becomes. He’s being broken up with. And even though they were not serious (hadn’t even talked about exclusivity at ALL) it hurts in a way he’s never really had to deal with before.

“I’m so sorry.” Kurt finally says on an exhale.

Alex presses his lips together and nods, more to himself than to Kurt.

“It’s just...you weren’t the only guy I’ve been seeing,” Alex’s heart hurts a little at this admission even though he had just moments before contemplated their lack of exclusivity, “and things with the other guy have become more serious for me and I needed to make a decision.”

Alex nods again. He’s doing a lot of nodding.

Kurt looks back over at him with a sad smile, “I really like you, but...it just didn’t feel fair to keep going with this,” He gestures back and forth between them, “when I couldn’t give it 100%.”

Alex lets out a breath and chuckles, which causes Kurt’s eyes to widen slightly, “It’s fine.” Alex says flippantly, even though he feels anything but flippant. He waves a hand nonchalantly in front of himself, “We weren’t exclusive. We never talked about it. I do appreciate you letting me know, though.”

He kind of wants Kurt to leave. He’s not devastated? But he’s hurting more than he wants to in front of the man currently breaking things off with him. He almost laughs again when he remembers he had intended to invite Kurt to Amelia’s wedding tonight. How dumb would he have felt had he done that before Kurt broke things off?

“I really do like you.” Kurt says again.

Alex smiles, “I like you, too.” He says softly before coughing awkwardly, “But hey, good luck with the other guy. He’s...very lucky.”

Having never been in this position before, Alex isn’t sure how to act. He’s not sure that’s the right thing to say and Kurt’s awkward smile leads him to believe it probably wasn’t exactly the right thing, but Kurt does nod and then gets up.

“Thanks.” He says.

Alex walks him to the door and holds it open for him to leave - the shortest ‘date’ of Alex’s life.

Kurt smiles with a wave before starting to walk down the hallway, “Oh!” Alex exclaims and Kurt turns around in surprise. Alex leans out his door slightly and smiles, “And if things don’t work out with your other guy...give me a call?”

Kurt’s eyes widen slightly, again, and his awkward smile returns before he nods and waves again before making his way down the hall and to the elevators.

Alex sighs when he’s out of sight and leans his head against the door. Clearly not the right thing to say. Getting broken up with sucks. He doesn’t recommend it. He needs a drink.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and texts his brothers.

-- -- --

“Al…” Blaine says, coming up behind his brother who is sitting at the bar in Black Iron Burger the next day.

Alex turns with a sad smile and Blaine pats him on the back with a sad smile of his own before pulling him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, man.” Blaine sympathizes as he takes a seat next to Alex. He notices, briefly, that Henry hasn’t arrived yet before focusing back on Alex who shrugs and wraps a hand around the half drunk beer in front of him.

“Yeah, it sucks. I mean, it wasn’t like we were serious or exclusive, but I kinda thought it could get there.” Alex says before shrugging again and bringing his beer to his lips.

Blaine pouts his lips. He can tell that this guy was different for Alex. His brother has never called him to mourn the loss of a partner (aside from the one time he’d slept with a D-list celebrity and claimed he’d been ‘in love’ after one night but that they would never see each other again. ‘It’s like Romeo and Juilet!’ he’d, overdramatically, lamented). Blaine is the brother that gets attached. Alex isn’t. So to see him slumped slightly in defeat makes Blaine’s heart clench.

“He didn’t deserve you.” He says, laying a hand on Alex’s shoulder.

Alex smiles and chuckles lightly, “Yeah, maybe.” He says.

The conversation pauses so Blaine can order a drink and then the pair is quiet while they watch the football game playing over their heads. Blaine figures he’ll take his cue from Alex. He’s here for him after all.

Henry joins them a few minutes later looking more put together than he normally does for a get together with his brothers. Blaine notes, as he watches Alex and Henry hug, that while Henry is usually better dressed than Alex, he doesn’t put as much time into his look as Blaine does. Tonight, he looks polished and Blaine even notices cufflinks on the dress shirt he’s wearing. Even the fact that he’s wearing a dress shirt to meet with his brothers is slightly out of character for him.

Blaine shakes himself out of his thoughts as Henry turns to hug him and then orders a beer for himself.

“So what do you need from us tonight?” Henry says as he sits on Alex’s other side, “Do you want us to sit quietly and watch the game with you, demonize the horrible man who broke your heart, give you shoulders to cry on? Just let us know.”

Alex laughs softly and shakes his head, “I just wanted to see you guys and have a beer...or five. We can just chat.”

Henry nods as his beer is set in front of him. He lifts it slightly and tilts it toward the other two, “We can do that. Right, Blaine?”

Blaine nods and mirrors the gesture, “We can.”

The three clink their glasses together and each take a sip of their drinks before, simultaneously, replacing them on the bar top.

“Speaking of ‘chatting’,” Alex starts, “What’s got you dressed up so fancy? I know it can’t be me. My pain is not a formal occasion.”

Henry chuckles, nervously, as he adjusts his collar, “Uh, I actually have a date later.”

Blaine shoots Alex a nervous look at the admission, afraid of how his brother will react. But when Henry also shoots Alex a concerned look, the man in the middle chuckles, “Guys, I’m fine! I’m not going to break. We weren’t serious. I’m just slightly bummed and wanted to see you guys. I’m Alex. I don’t do ‘feelings’.”

Blaine knows he’s covering a little but trusts his brother to let them know how he’s feeling so he nods and turns back to Henry, “So, how are things going with your guy?”

He notices Henry blush slightly and smiles at the boyish way Henry shifts his eyes as he smiles, “Really well.” He admits and Alex whoops while Blaine smiles bigger, “I was actually thinking of inviting him to Tiny’s wedding. Do you think that would be...cool?”

“You should.” Blaine answers immediately, “No one will care he’s a guy, Henry.” He says, understanding why Henry is nervous, “They may be a bit surprised at first but they’ll just be happy for you.”

Henry nods and takes a deep breath, “You’re right.”

Alex lets out a breath, “So, Henry’s going to have a date to a family wedding. That hasn’t happened...ever.” He chuckles when Henry smacks him on the back of the head before continuing, “And we all know I’ll rally and invite some hot piece with me.” Henry and Blaine give the same ‘Of course’ hand gesture, “So, now we just have to find someone for baby brother.”

Blaine rolls his eyes at the moniker but then smiles, “I actually already have a date myself.”

Alex’s eyes widen and Henry lets out a low whistle, “The same guy you’ve been seeing?” Alex asks and Blaine nods with an even bigger smile, “Well, that’s great.” He says, offering his glass for another toast, “To each of us finding someone we want to hump.”

Henry and Blaine roll their eyes with their glasses held up but participate in the toast anyway.

“Oh! And to it being only two days until we take Tiny out!” Alex adds.

Blaine and Henry, more enthusiastically, cheers to that.

-- -- --

Henry feels his heart leap when he sees Kurt walking toward him. He had left Blaine and Alex at the bar a half hour ago after two hours of chatting and goofing around to meet Kurt for their date.

His teeth start to chatter and not because of the cold weather. He’s nervous. Alex was right. He’s never asked anyone to any of their family weddings. He hopes Kurt says yes!

Kurt’s face breaks into a smile when their eyes meet and Henry all but bounces on his toes when the other man gets closer.

“Hey!” He enthuses, swooping in to give Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. The desire to do so is still so new for Henry. It both excites him and terrifies him a little. He hasn’t really gotten the hang of casual intimacy with Kurt. Any physical interaction is usually initiated by Kurt. But Henry’s trying. He wants to try.

“Hey you.” Kurt says with a sigh, a white cloud of air following his words due to the cold weather.

“You look great.” Henry smiles.

Kurt smiles back, “So do you. Shall we walk?” He asks, gesturing down the street.

Henry loves that their dates are simple. They’ve been to the coffee shop a few more times and spent an afternoon in Central Park by the pond. Today their plan is to wander around the city and see if anything strikes their fancy. It may be a bit cold to do so? But Henry loves how uncomplicated and safe it feels. A lot less stressful than bowling - Henry is still berating himself for suggesting that to begin with.

The pair start their way down the street, walking close enough that their hands bump every once in a while but never really hold. Henry would like to hold Kurt’s hand, his fingers are flexing like a teenager on his first date, but he thinks he’ll wait and see if Kurt grabs first.

“How was drinks with your brothers?” Kurt asks.

Henry smiles, “It was nice. Alex just got his heart broken a little so we were cheering him up.”

Henry notices Kurt pauses at this, to the point where Henry walks a few steps ahead of him before he notices the lack of Kurt beside him. Henry turns back with a questioning eyebrow raised to find Kurt staring at him with slightly wide eyes. A second later, however, before Henry can ask, Kurt shakes his head with a chuckle and moves to walk next to the other man again.

“Sorry, I just thought...nevermind. It’s not important.” Kurt says with another shake of his head.

Henry nods in acceptance as they round a corner, “So, are you excited about your presentation on Monday?” It’s not what he wants to ask. He wants to ask Kurt to the wedding, but he figures he’ll work himself up to that.

Kurt sighs next to him and it sounds a little regretful to Henry. Which is strange considering the nature of his question. He’d thought Kurt would be excited about the presentation.

“Look, Henry, can we sit for a bit? I wanted to...talk to you about something.” Kurt says around a grimace and Henry doesn’t like the words or the expression but he nods and allows Kurt to lead him into a small, quiet coffee shop on the corner.

They each order a coffee, even though Henry suddenly has a lump in his throat and doesn’t think he’ll be able to drink it, and he shifts continually as Kurt unwinds his scarfs from his neck.

“What’s up?” Henry asks when he can’t take the quiet any longer. Trying for nonchalance and probably failing epically.

Kurt swallows and rests his hands first on the wooden table top, then in his lap, and then finally decides to reach forward and grab Henry’s hands across the table. Henry looks down at their hands and while he realizes this is what he wanted to happen not even ten minutes ago, the current mood isn’t what he had expected or wanted.

“I don’t really know how to tell you this.” Kurt begins and Henry blinks at him, waiting for what he knows is coming but hoping that’s not the case, “I...need to end things.” And there it is. Henry feels his stomach sink to his feet and his instant reaction is to pull his hands from Kurt’s. Kurt won’t let him go though and Henry doesn’t try too hard, “It’s nothing you did. You are amazing.” Kurt continues and Henry goes back to blinking at him, his mind already whirling as he tries to focus on what Kurt is saying.

“What happened?” He asks around dry lips.

Kurt gives him a sad smile and Henry wants to say it’s pitying and hate Kurt for it but...he can’t, “I haven’t just been seeing you and things with the other guy have gotten more serious. I didn’t think it would be fair to either of you to pretend that wasn’t the case.”

Henry intellectually knows that at twenty-six, people date multiple people until things become exclusive but...Henry doesn’t really date. He was exclusive with Kurt from the beginning. It hurts, however irrationally, that Kurt didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m so sorry, Henry.” Kurt continues, squeezing his hand.

Henry shakes himself out of his own head and looks at Kurt, who is continuing to smile sadly at him.

“Would you like me to go?” Kurt asks.

Henry swallows. Does he? He thinks he does. He nods before he can think too hard and Kurt squeezes his hand one more time before pulling away and grabbing his scarf.

He stands to wind it around his neck and then reaches into his pocket to put money down on the table for his undrank (and actually still undelivered) coffee.

“You really are amazing, Henry.” Kurt whispers.

Henry nods, tries to smile, and then Kurt is gone.

Henry lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He tries to tell himself that people break things off all the time. Hell, he’d just come from an Alex cheer up session for the exact same reason. He tries to tell himself that he and Kurt weren’t serious, regardless of Henry’s personal feelings on exclusivity.

He’ll be fine. It’s not like the very first guy to ever catch Henry’s attention, to make him question everything he thought about himself, just ended things right when Henry was thinking of taking things to the next level.

Henry lets out another heavy breath. Fuck.

-- -- --

“Okay, while I love that you guys took me out? I have to say this is kind of depressing.” Amelia says, carefully, two days later.

She’s seated on the arm of a couch in the VIP section of a swanky club, dressed to the nines in a purple sequined dressed and hair and makeup on point, and while she’s valiantly trying to maintain a buzz...she feels its a bit of a travesty that she has to TRY so hard. She should be drunk out of her MIND right now or at least on her way to it.

She’s not sure if the club is all the night holds, but the way things are going she’s not sure she wants to find out what else there might be.

The only other person actually trying to have fun is Blaine. He’s also dressed to the nines, his bowtie the perfect accessory and has been tweaked by admiring girls AND guys all night. The constant blush on his cheeks at the action is both adorable and endearing. Blaine is currently off buying them more drinks, however, leaving Amelia with Alex and Henry.

It’s the other two members of their party that are being giant party poopers. Alex and Henry are at least dressed nicely for the event but considering this is pretty much all Alex has talked about for months...their mood is definitely off.

“Sorry Tiny.” Henry sighs from where he sits on the couch next to where she is perched.

Amelia sighs, “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be happy!” She says, “Is whatever has the two of you down something you can maybe put aside for the night? Or is it something we can talk about, quickly, so we can move on? Because I’m pretty sure this night is costing you all a lot of money and...it’s my last night out with my boys before my wedding.” She doesn’t want to pout but...she’s the baby, and the only girl, and is used to using her pout to get what she wants.

Alex sighs, “I was ready to have a great night but then Henry had to go and get dumped, too, and...it reminded me how much that sucked.”

Henry lifts his hands, exasperatedly, as if to say it wasn’t his fault he got dumped a day after Alex did, “It’s not my fault I got dumped a day after you did!” He huffs and Amelia almost, almost giggles at her ability to read her big brothers.

Instead of giggling though, she sighs, “Look, guys, getting dumped sucks but get drunk and get on someone else! It’s not like you’d been dating these people for a year or more. You didn’t even tell your family you were dating them!”

Henry and Alex both stare at her after her exclamation and she would feel bad if she didn’t feel she was right. Henry’s mood makes the most sense. He doesn’t date and any seeming failure would be a blow to his dating confidence.

She’s most confused by Alex. Alex goes through men and women like they’re underwear sometimes. She’s confused why he would be so hung up on a guy he clearly didn’t feel serious enough about to introduce to his family.

“We’re sorry, Tiny.” Henry says.

Alex nods, “Yeah. We’ll try harder. This is your night.”

Amelia nods, glad to have them thinking the way she does, as Blaine comes back to the group.

“I’m pretty sure I counted four different people winking at me and/or touching my butt on the way to and from the bar.” Blaine says, setting their drinks down on the table in front of the couch.

Alex laughs as he reaches for his drink, cheersing slightly in thanks, “Well, you are looking very dapper this evening. But better watch it - your man might get jealous.”

Blaine chuckles, himself, as he takes a seat in a chair perpendicular to the couch the other three are sitting on, “Yeah, maybe I should have brought Kurt as protection.”

Amelia is looking at Blaine but becomes aware very quickly of how still the couch to her right has gotten. She turns to find Alex and Henry looking at Blaine but not in the casual way one might when another person is talking. They’re staring at him like he’s just said the most shocking thing they’ve ever heard.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Alex asks.

Blaine seems to catch on to their sudden mood and furrows his eyebrows and shifts as he answers, “That I should have gotten Kurt to come for protection. It was just a joke.”

“Kurt.” Henry says, flatly.

“Yeah. My….boyfriend?” Blaine says the last part questioningly. Amelia isn’t sure if it’s because he’s still confused by their brothers’ reactions, or because he’s not sure if the title is accurate for his relationship.

Either way, the clarification doesn’t seem to help Alex and Henry who continue to look at Blaine like he’s just stolen the last cookie (a criminal offense punishable by beatings from each other when they were kids).

Blaine chuckles nervously under the scrutiny, “What’s going on?”

Henry and Alex look at each other and then back at Blaine, and then back at each other. Amelia’s head is starting to hurt from confusion, but it looks like she’s not the only one who’s confused.

“What’s Kurt’s last name?” Henry asks.

“Hummel.” Blaine provides and again the space is silent which is hard to do considering the music pumping not far away.

“Oh god.” Henry moans, putting his head into his hands. Alex sits, frozen, staring at Blaine. Blaine, for his part, is looking back and forth between his brothers, and Amelia, with a look of distress on his face, unaware of the issue.

And then suddenly, Amelia gets it.

“Were you all dating the same guy?!” She exclaims.

Blaine’s head whips in her direction as Henry moans again.

“No, no, no.” Blaine says with a nervous chuckle as he looks at his brothers to agree.

Instead of confirmation however, Henry is still face planting into his hands and Alex looks murderous.

“No?” Blaine, feebly, tries again.

“I lost my chance to be with Kurt because of YOU?!” Alex yells and Blaine jumps back in his chair slightly at the loud exclamation.

Amelia gets up and puts her hands up in a calming gesture, “Now, just wait a minute. Let’s just...talk about this.”

“Did you know?” Alex accuses as he stares at Blaine.

“Of course not!” Blaine exclaims.

Alex scoffs like he doesn’t really believe his brother and fidgets on the couch. Henry hasn’t moved.

“I cannot believe this.” Alex huffs. He looks around the room before shaking his head and huffing again, “You know what? I can’t be here right now. I’m sorry, Tiny, but...I gotta go.”

Before Amelia can say anything, Alex is up out of his seat and out of the room. Blaine and Amelia watch him go, both looking distressed and confused.

“Henry?” Blaine asks after a moment, small and sounding very much like the ‘little brother’ Alex and Henry like to say he is.

Henry shakes his head before looking up, “I gotta...I’m sorry but I gotta...think about this.” He says and then he’s gone the same way Alex left.

Blaine and Amelia once again watch him leave and then turn and look at each other. Blaine looks close to tears and Amelia feels a tightness in her chest. She’s not sure how to fix what just happened, or even fully understand why it happened. She just knows that a night meant to celebrate very quickly turned into the very opposite of that, and she now has three brothers hurting.

She does the only thing she can think to do at the moment and moves to squish herself next to Blaine, pulling him to her and cuddling him close as they listen to the distant thump of music from the club on the other side of the wall.

-- -- --

Blaine feels like shit. It’s been three days since the disaster that was Amelia’s party and neither of his brothers are answering his calls. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t talk to his brothers for longer than a day, their almost constant back and forth something he took for granted until it suddenly wasn’t there.

He’s tried to text both of them multiple times but has not received a response from either.

He misses his brothers, but he’s also a little mad because he’s not sure their silent treatment/absence is justified. It’s not Blaine’s fault he met a guy. It’s not Blaine’s fault he and said guy grew close. And it’s not his fault that guy just so happened to also be dating his other two triplet brothers and decided to break it off with them.

None of this is his fault...but then why does he feel so guilty for seeking comfort in Kurt?

“I don’t know what to do.” He sighs, resting his chin on his folded arms which are resting on top of his kitchen island where he is sitting.

Kurt sighs from his spot next to him and leans over to kiss his shoulder before leaning his cheek on the same shoulder and smoothing a hand up Blaine’s back.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“I don’t know what to say or do to make any of this better with them.” Blaine continues.

Kurt hums and Blaine appreciates that while Kurt may not know what to say, he’ll listen.

When Blaine had first told Kurt that he had been inadvertently dating Blaine’s triplet brothers, Kurt had thought he was joking. No way did the universe work that way. But after Blaine showed Kurt a picture of himself with Alex and Henry, Kurt had been dumbfounded. He’d sputtered some words that didn’t make a lot of sense and looked like his mind was reeling with a million different emotions and thoughts all at once. In the end, he seemed to finally land on pity and sympathy for Blaine, and while Blaine doesn’t usually like to be pitied...in this situation, he’ll take all the pity and cuddles he can get.

The pair is quiet for a few moments, both in their own heads, before Kurt lets out a breath, “I still can’t believe I was dating three brothers.” Evidently Kurt’s not completely done being dumbfounded, “No, wait.” He says, straightening up, “Triplets. Triplet brothers. Close triplet brothers. Triplet brothers who are close.” He moves away from Blaine to circle to the other side of the island and Blaine immediately misses his closeness.

Kurt paces from one end of the island to the other and brings a hand to his forehead, “And I’ve now hurt all three of them.” He seems to be talking more to himself than to Blaine, “All three are hurting because of me. How did I get myself into this mess?”

Blaine watches him pace for another moment before sighing. His sigh seems to snap Kurt out of his own head and he leans across the island to rest his hands on Blaine’s folded arms, “Oh my God, I’m sorry. You don’t need me having a mental freak out. This is about you.”

Blaine sighs again, “You’re allowed to be confused too, Kurt. I don’t think there is a rule book on how to handle this situation.”

Kurt pouts his lips, “Yeah, but I’m not the one who isn’t talking to his brothers. I’m the one who caused it all.”

Blaine unwinds his arms and grabs Kurt’s hands properly, “It’s not like you planned this. It’s not like you went out in search of triplet brothers, who look nothing alike I might add, to mess with. You dated, you got close to someone, and did the right thing by breaking it off with the others you didn’t feel as close to.”

Kurt nods and squeezes Blaine’s hands, “I think some of that advice could be turned around and given to you.”

Blaine bites his lips together and nods. He can’t be blamed for getting close to someone. He can’t be blamed for not knowing his brothers just so happened to be dating that same someone.

“Should I feel guilty for being happy about how it turned out?” He asks.

Kurt sighs and shrugs slightly, “Only if I should, too.”

Blaine shakes his head. This whole situation was out of their control and he can’t deny how happy he is to be with Kurt. He’ll figure out a way to make things right with his brothers. Everything will turn out okay.

“I like you a lot.” Blaine says, apropos of nothing.

Kurt smiles at him from across the island before circling it again and coming to hug Blaine. Blaine settles his knees on either side of the taller man and leans his head against Kurt’s chest as he wraps his arms around his waist.

“I like you a lot, too.” Kurt whispers into Blaine’s hair.

Blaine enjoys the hug for a minute before pulling back and looking up at Kurt, “Should you still come to the wedding?”

Kurt bites his bottom lip and tilts his head, “Do you want me to still come to the wedding?”

Blaine squeezes the arms still around Kurt’s waist slightly, “Of course I do, but that’s not really the point right now. Would it just cause more issues?”

Kurt shifts his arms so his hands are resting on Blaine’s shoulders and he looks him in the eye, “I would love to come to the wedding with you. I would love to meet your family or, you know, the rest of your family?” He scrunches one eye shut and the question actually makes them both laugh softly before Kurt settles into a soft smile, “But I do not want to do anything else that will cause you, or your brothers, any more hurt.” Blaine starts to speak but Kurt shushes him lightly, “Yes, I know the first hurts were inadvertent, but they still happened.” Blaine sighs and nods, “I will go along with whatever you want. If you want me at the wedding, I’m there. If you’d rather me stay at home, I can do that too. But your decision will not change how I feel about you.”

Blaine stares up into Kurt’s eyes and his feelings for him deepen even further at Kurt’s words. Beyond the external drama, Blaine is a little shocked at how quickly his feelings for Kurt have developed over the course of their short relationship. He’s feeling things he thinks he probably shouldn’t yet, and while he’s not ready to announce them to Kurt...they’re enough to make his decision an easy one.

“I want you there.” He whispers into the space between them, looking back and forth between Kurt’s eyes because they are that close.

Kurt smiles and leans in to press a slow kiss to Blaine’s lips. Blaine sighs and leans into it, pressing his hands more firmly into Kurt’s back to draw the other man closer still.

The kiss is deep from the start and the only sound in the room is their breathing and the wet sound of their lips and tongues coming together. There is something deeply intimate about their position to Blaine and he can feel himself responding and his heart rate pick up.

Kurt’s hands settle on either side of Blaine’s neck and he tilts Blaine’s head ever so slightly and, oh, that angle is so much better.

They make out for another minute or two before Blaine pulls back sharply, a thought suddenly occurring to him.

“Did you…” He pauses, unsure he wants to ask the question. Kurt, who is slightly out of breath with his cheeks flushed standing between Blaine’s legs, looks at him in confusion. Blaine decides he needs to know, “Did you...sleep with either of my brothers?”

He knows he’s broken the mood they were just in, especially when Kurt’s confusion turns to laughter, but he knows he couldn’t continue until he knew.

Kurt leans his forehead against Blaine’s shoulder and laughs heartily into it. Blaine soon joins him and the pair laugh in each other’s arms.

Kurt lets out a breath and hums to calm himself before pulling back and shaking his head, “No. No, I did not.”

Blaine brings a hand up to his forehead and wipes it dramatically, “Phew. I just had this mental image of you comparing our dicks and just...no.” He says and it causes them both to chuckle. Blaine scrunches one eye shut and looks up at Kurt, “Sorry for...ruining the mood.”

Kurt hums again, looks up at the ceiling as if considering, and then shrugs, “It’s okay. Probably wouldn’t be the best idea to sleep together right now. Maybe we should...wait.”

Blaine intellectually knows Kurt is right, but it’s hard to tell his body and heart that.

“We’ll have time.” Kurt whispers, leaning to press a soft kiss to Blaine’s lips.

Blaine closes his eyes and groans softly as Kurt pulls away, “We will.” He agrees.

-- -- --

“Hey. Hey Blaine.” Alex slurs a day later into his phone. He’s wobbling outside of a bar in the West Village and he thought calling Blaine would be the BEST thing to do at this particular moment, “Hey Blaine. Oh wait, I already said that. But hi. I’m mad at you. I think. Shouldn’t I be?” He scrunches up his nose and makes eye contact with another man on the sidewalk who looks at him with a quirked eyebrow and keeps going, “Yeah, I think I’m mad. You stole Kurt. You stole Kurt and his..and his penis!” He exclaims. Two young girls, in the process of passing Alex on the street, jump at the volume and then giggle as they speed walk away, “I had plans for that penis. Big plans because well...I’m sure it would have been big if you know what I mean.

“But you took him and I’m mad.” Alex sighs and then sits on the sidewalk, “And a little sad. I’m...I’m...I’m smad.” He pouts his bottom lip out and adopts a glare before giggling at his attempt to look sad and mad at the same time, “I don’t want to be smad. But I really wanted that penis. And the man it was attached to. But now you have the penis. And I just...I’m smad.”

-- -- --

Kurt’s not entirely sure why he’s here. Technically, he understands the logistics of being here, Blaine’s little sister’s rehearsal dinner, but he isn’t entirely sure he made the right decision agreeing to come.

Blaine had asked him to come. Or rather, Blaine’s sister, Amelia, had asked Blaine to ask him to come. Her thinking was that her family could meet Kurt in a less formal setting first, as opposed to having their first meeting be at her wedding (Blaine had said her exact words were ‘If you cause unnecessary drama at my wedding, I will burn all your bow ties’).

So here Kurt stands, in an admittedly fabulous outfit, next to Blaine outside the restaurant the rehearsal dinner is being held at. They are both fidgeting and side-eyeing each other.

The next time they catch each other's eyes, they both chuckle at the same time.

“Thank you for coming.” Blaine says.

Kurt shrugs, “From the sounds of things I didn’t REALLY have a choice. I haven’t even met Amelia yet and she seems like a force to be reckoned with.”

Blaine nods, “She can be.” He says on a sigh before looking back at the restaurant, “Ready?”

Kurt’s not sure he is, but he nods anyway, and the pair make their way toward the front door.

The hostess leads them to the private room the rehearsal dinner is being held in and Kurt is instantly hit with the sheer amount of people inside the relatively small room. Kurt’s not an introvert, by any means, but faced with a room of people he doesn’t know...including the family of his new boyfriend...he finds himself swallowing, thickly.

And then he remembers that everyone in this room isn’t a stranger and his eyes widen when the first people he lays eyes on are Henry and Alex. They’re hard to miss, right inside the door and talking to a short woman who, based on her physical features, can’t be anyone but their sister, Amelia.

The opening of the door draws their attention and the five of them (Alex, Henry, Amelia, Blaine, and Kurt) freeze. Kurt had kind of hoped to avoid any awkward interactions, but clearly luck isn’t on his side tonight.

“Hey!” Amelia says after a moment, breaking the silence and moving towards the pair, “You must be Kurt!” She’s hugging him before Kurt can even take his eyes off of Alex and Henry, and he hugs her back while still looking at them. Henry looks nervous and Alex’s eyes have narrowed slightly. Kurt coughs and looks away and down at the spitfire of a woman still hugging him

“Yeah. Hi. You must be Amelia. Nice to meet you and congratulations.” He says with a nervous blush rising on his cheeks.

Amelia steps back and hugs Blaine to her, who looks faintly ill as he looks beyond at his brothers.

“Thanks!” She enthuses, “Though I’m kind of glad the wedding is tomorrow. Whoever said planning a wedding was fun obviously hasn’t planned one before.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs, and while Kurt has been planning his wedding since he was six and can’t wait to put the plan into action, he laughs with her because he doesn’t want to be rude.

And then suddenly it’s like Amelia either can’t ignore the tension between the four men in the room, or she just realizes it, and looks between all four of them with a look of apprehension. When no one else speaks or even looks at one another, she sighs and puts her hands on her hips.

“This is ridiculous. Hug. Each. Other!” She orders with a glare at each of her brothers.

Blaine, Alex, and Henry all seem to collectively pout, but none move to follow the order of their little sister. Kurt’s pretty sure the order didn’t extend to him but...it’s so awkward he’s actually considering just going for it and hugging someone.

Amelia rolls her eyes before grabbing Blaine’s elbow, “All right. We are going to talk this out like the adults we all pretend to be. That way you can go back to normal and not ruin my wedding.”

She gestures for Alex and Henry to follow her and it appears this order they will follow. Kurt is simultaneously glad to no longer have to deal with this awkwardness, but also a little terrified that Blaine is about to leave him in a room full of strangers.

The siblings are almost out of the room when Amelia stops and turns back to Kurt with a raised eyebrow, “Are you coming?”

Kurt’s eyes widen in surprise and terror. His presence is required?

Amelia gives him a pointed stare before leading her brothers from the room. Kurt hesitates, momentarily, before deciding staying with Blaine is probably the best course of action (and not angering Amelia any further) and following them out to a quiet section of the restaurant.

For the second time this evening, Kurt wonders how he ended up here.

“All right.” Amelia starts as she looks at her brothers in front of her. The four men are standing in a loose square, with Kurt awkwardly standing to Blaine’s right, “You all need to get over this. I should not be feeling anxious over YOUR love lives and especially not the day before the most important day of MY life.”

Alex crosses his arms over his chest and pouts, “This is all Blaine’s fault.”

Amelia throws her hands up in the air in exasperation but it’s Blaine who answers, “Are you seven?” He asks, incredulously, and the question just makes Alex’s arms cross tighter, “Because that’s how you’re acting. This is like the time mom and dad bought us scooters for our birthday and you got pissed that I got the red one because you wanted the red one.”

Kurt furrows his brow, “Are you likening me to a scooter?”

His question goes unanswered as Alex huffs indignantly, “I really liked him!” He defends.

Blaine rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I got that much from the message you sent me. You know, at first I felt sort of bad for what happened, that maybe it WAS my fault. But it’s not really. I just met a guy and fell in…” He hesitates and Kurt turns to him wide eyed. Blaine swallows thickly and doesn’t meet Kurt’s eye before continuing, “I really didn’t need you talking about how much you want my boyfriend’s dick. Now I’M mad.”

Kurt’s wide eyes widen further before moving to look at the ground. He feels his cheeks heat up in an embarrassed flush. He’s not really shy when it comes to sex related topics like he was in high school, but something about this situation just makes it all the more strange.

The space they’re in goes quiet and Kurt isn’t sure if anyone is going to break the silence. He doesn’t really want the last thing said in this trainwreck of a conversation to be about his penis.

He coughs and all heads swivel toward him. He blinks at each face before landing on Blaine’s and biting his lip, “I...think I’m going to go.” He says, and it’s not until it’s out of his mouth that he realizes he had wanted to say those words.

Blaine’s eyes widen and he steps closer, grabbing Kurt’s hand, “Please don’t.” He whispers.

Kurt looks quickly at the other faces in the space before focussing back on Blaine. He really doesn’t want to say this with Blaine’s brothers and sister in the room, but again his mouth acts before his brain can catch up, “I don’t want to come between you and your family.” He whispers, pleading with his eyes for Blaine to understand.

Blaine shakes his head, “You aren’t.”

Kurt smiles sadly, “I am. I just...can’t be the reason why three brothers are fighting.” He looks around the room again, the other three faces looking on curiously, before turning back to Blaine who looks pained, “I’m sorry.” He whispers and then pulls his hand out of Blaine’s, “I’m...sorry.” He says a little louder to Alex, Henry, and Amelia, before he turns and walks out of the restaurant.

The fact that his heart hurts when he hits the parking lot doesn’t go unnoticed.

-- -- --

Amelia’s wedding is a beautiful, elegant affair the next day. The flowers arrive on time, no one trips down the aisle, Amelia and Sam both tear up during their vows, and if anyone notices the slightly subdued nature of the three men of honour...they don’t comment.

Blaine thinks he and his brothers do a pretty good job at keeping it together during the ceremony and pictures. They act like nothing's wrong and even their parents don’t seem to pick up on the fact that there is a giant elephant in the room.

During the reception, the three of them deliver their joint speech flawlessly (complete with jokes, heartfelt memories, and perfectly timed segways) and Blaine gives a sigh of relief when Amelia beams at them from her seat beside her new husband.

It’s not until the dancing begins that Blaine really lets his mask drop. He finds a seat at an empty table and nurses a glass of wine. He rests his forearms on his legs and lets the glass dangle between his knees.

Kurt was supposed to be here. Blaine was supposed to be introducing his new boyfriend to his family, cuddling up on the dance floor during sappy wedding slow songs, and maybe getting a little drunk and handsy. Instead, he’s spent the day pretending he isn’t hurting.

He sighs as the song changes (it’s a pretty damn good playlist if he says so himself) before he sees black out of the corner of his eye. He closes his eyes, ready to put on a brave face for whatever family member has decided to descend upon him, only to look up to find Henry standing in front of him.

“May I?” His brother asks, gesturing to the seat next to Blaine. Blaine nods and straightens slightly, something in the back of his mind finding it wrong that Henry feels he needs to ask permission to sit next to his brother.

Henry sits next to him with a sigh and looks out over the dance floor. Blaine realizes in that moment that Henry has been pretty quiet since they found out about their shared dating experience. He hasn’t said much on the issue or expressed his feelings in any way. Blaine really hopes he’s not about to get into a shouting match at their sister’s wedding.

“I freaked out.” Henry says. Blaine turns to look at him but Henry is still looking out at the dance floor, “Kurt was the first guy to ever make me feel something like that, and then suddenly he was calling things off to be with you, and I had this giant crisis. Had everything I felt been a lie? An experiment? For nothing?” He shakes his head before sighing again and looking at Blaine, “But my feelings have nothing to do with you and Kurt. None of this is your fault, Blaine. And I’m sorry if I made you think it was.”

Blaine sucks in a deep breath through his nose and holds it for a second before letting it out. He had been expecting tension, not an apology. He also can’t believe he didn’t think to check in on his brother. Of course he’d be analyzing what it all meant.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think to ask how you were feeling about all of...that.” Blaine says.

Henry shrugs before smiling, “It’s okay. It’s not like me overthinking and freaking out is a NEW experience.”

Blaine chuckles softly, “Still. I should have asked. Are you...okay with everything?”

Henry nods looking out over the dance floor again, “I think I am. Or at least...I’m getting there. Maybe Kurt will be the only guy to do anything for me and maybe not. I’m willing to keep my options open.”

Blaine smiles and nods, “Good.” He says.

“I’m growing as a person.” Henry says, dryly, and they chuckle lightly. Henry turns back to Blaine and lays a hand on Blaine’s knee, “How about you? Have you heard from Kurt?”

The question makes Blaine’s chest hurt a little before he shakes his head, “Not since he left yesterday.”

Henry nods, “He’ll come around.” He says, encouragingly.

Blaine bites his lip to keep from either rambling or crying. He doesn’t want to do either. He’s not even sure how he truly feels or what he would even say...though he guesses when you ramble it’s less important what it is you actually say.

He ends up just shrugging and the pair go back to watching the happy people on the dance floor.

“Amelia is beautiful today.” Blaine muses.

“She really is.”

Blaine jumps slightly because it’s not Henry who responds. Both men turn in the seats to see Alex standing behind them. He’s got his hands in his pockets and his head tipped down, looking at them through his lashes.

“Hey, can I...talk to you?” He asks Blaine.

Blaine looks at Henry, who shrugs, before Blaine nods and gets up. He passes his glass to Henry and then follows Alex out of the ballroom into the main lobby. He’s not sure if he and Alex are about to fight again, and he’s not entirely sure if he WANTS to fight again, but all speculation flies from his brain when he sees Kurt standing by chairs in the lobby.

Blaine stops walking and stares open mouthed. He looks back and forth between Alex, who has also stopped halfway between Kurt and Blaine, and Kurt who is standing with his hands in his pockets and biting his lip.

“What…?” Blaine starts.

Alex sighs, “I called Kurt. Explained to him that I’m kind of an ass sometimes. But hey, it’s part of my charm.” He says with a wide, cheeky smile, before sobering again, “None of this was either of your faults. None of this was any of our faults. But what is MY fault was how I reacted to it.” He turns more fully to Blaine, “I’m sorry. I’m no longer mad, I’m no longer sad, and none of that should have been directed at you.”

Blaine nods with a slow smile. He doesn’t really know what else to do right now other than to hug his brother. He’s opened his arms and begun to move toward him when Alex puts his hand up to stop him.

“Just wait, I’m not done. We can hug it out in a minute.” He says.

Blaine’s brow furrows in confusion but he does stop and watches as Alex turns toward Kurt, “I wanted to say sorry to you too, Kurt. I should never have treated you that way...even over a voicemail to my brother.”

Kurt’s eyes are wide as if he wasn’t expecting an apology before he nods.

Alex nods too and then turns to Blaine, “All right. You can hug me now.” He says, opening his own arms.

Blaine chuckles before closing the distance and wrapping his arms around his brother, “I’m sorry for all of this.”

Alex pulls back, “You have nothing to apologize for. You met a boy and you fell in…” He pauses with a knowing smirk and Blaine blushes and diverts his eyes for a second, “I was the only one who had to apologize. And I did.” He smiles, “I must be growing as a person.”

Blaine smiles at the statement Henry said to him minutes before, though as opposed to sarcastic, Alex seems proud.

“You are.” Blaine agrees.

Alex tilts his head in Kurt’s direction, “Go get your man. I’m going to go see if Sam’s friend Mike is single and open to the attention of men.” He waggles his eyebrows and Blaine laughs. Still the same old Alex.

Alex pats Blaine on the arm and then he’s gone, back into the ballroom. When the door closes behind him, Kurt and Blaine are left in silence.

Blaine walks slowly toward him, “Hi.” He whispers when he’s close.

Kurt bites his lip again and smiles, “Hi.”

“So...” Blaine looks around as if he’s searching for something, “You...aren’t coming between me and my brothers anymore. Not that you actually were, but now you DEFINITELY aren’t.”

“It would appear that I’m not.” Kurt agrees with a nod.

“So…” Blaine says again, “does that mean anything for...us?”

Kurt shrugs and looks around the lobby for a moment. Blaine’s stomach drops at the shrug, but when Kurt turns to him with a smirk, Blaine’s stomach fills with hopeful butterflies.

“Come here.” Kurt says, grabbing Blaine by the tie and pulling him forward into a kiss.

Blaine melts into it and he’ll blame the stress and uncertainty on the needy moan he lets out.

They’re just getting into a groove, and Blaine may or may not be thinking about a place in this building they could go to truly be alone, when a ‘whoop’ sounds from behind them.

They both jump and pull apart, looking at each other with wide eyes before turning simultaneously toward the ballroom to find Henry, Alex, and Amelia leaning out of the door with wide smiles on their faces.

“Yay Blainers!” Amelia claps and Blaine and Kurt chuckle at her enthusiasm.

Henry puts a hand on his sister’s shoulder, perhaps in an effort to calm her, and Blaine feels his heart fill with happiness as his three siblings beam at him from the doorway.

Henry pulls slightly on Amelia’s shoulder and the pair turn to go back into the ballroom. Alex remains in the doorway, and while he looks to where his sister and brother just disappeared, he turns back to Blaine and he once again waggles his eyebrows with a wink. A moment later, Henry returns and pulls Alex back to the ballroom.

Blaine can hear Alex complaining about missing the good part before he turns back to a smiling Kurt with a smile of his own. He takes a deep breath and reaches out to grab Kurt’s hand, “Do you...want to come meet the rest of my family?”

Kurt squeezes his hand and jiggles it lightly, “I would love to.”

Blaine didn’t think his smile could get any bigger, and yet he feels his cheek muscles stretch even further, before he tugs on Kurt’s hand and leads him to the ballroom.

The End

#klaine #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #glee potluck big bang #my loves #my stuff #3 on 1

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all1e23 · 5 years

Text

Astrophile [Pt.15]

Chapter: Eclipse

Summary: Art shows, miscommunications and kisses.

Warnings: BACK TO THE FLUFF!!!!! Still a little sad at the start just as a heads up.

A/N: Don’t get too excited by the summary It’s not the kind of kissing you’re thinking. Two chapters to go!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

There was a clumsy, inelegance to the tightness floating in the afternoon air now that they were alone without a five-year-old bumper to spare them from humiliation. Strangers on the subway have looked more comfortable than they do at this moment. The side glances, nervous fidgeting, and tension turned Bucky’s smile into a deep pout. A bystander catching sight of this floundering rendezvous would be unable to watch for long, they would find themselves turning their head to hide from second-hand embarrassment.

He couldn’t blame them if they did. This isn’t how he saw this reunion going.

Bucky’s not sure what it’s going to take to fix this disaster, and if he had any sense at all, he would move on and pretend none of this ever happened. They could simply chalk it up to a missed connection and let it be one of those what could have been moments. He could go back to the way things were before if he really had to. He could find plenty of things to fill his days, but when it’s late at night and stillness envelopes him, he doesn’t know how to think of anything but her.

Because that’s just it, he doesn’t want to go back to a time before her.

He honestly has no idea what the hell he’s doing when it comes to loving her. Bucky has never felt this confused or this unsure of himself. The only time he’s ever come close to being this lost over a pretty girl, he was a young boy and didn’t understand the difference between lust and love. This is nothing like that, she’s not some pretty girl he has a crush on and he’s terrified he’s going to wreck this to the point it’s unfixable, but he has to do something, anything because he can’t take the strain between them a second longer.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Bucky ponders aloud, breaking the silence and tension for a few fleeting seconds.

Y/n nods, feeling guilt swimming up to her throat at the palpable nervousness in his voice. Her words crack and splinter from the weight of her own nerves, “I-I’ve been busy. I’m sorry I haven’t had time for another movie night. Ori said you guys watched a good one though?”

Bucky nods, over and over because he has to convince himself as much as he does her and tucks his hands in his front pockets rocking back on his heels. “Yeah, yeah we did. We watched Mary Poppins Returns. She really liked it.”

“What about you? Did you like it?”

He winces internally. This is so awkward. They have been reduced to idle chit chat? The same terrible small talk he has to make with parents he doesn’t want to be around? They’ve always fit together. Perfectly, really. But this? This is painful and unfamiliar. She’s acting as if she can’t be herself around him– that stings. It’s as if he’s some random person she barely knows and not the owner of the heart she’s still holding.

Bucky hates it.

“Yeah, uh, it was good, but I would have liked it a lot more if you were there,” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he wants to smack his head against the wall – that’s so stupid. He can’t make an awkward situation any more embarrassing if he tried. He takes a gamble and gazes at her, but she doesn’t look upset or uncomfortable like he expects.

She’s wearing the smile that restarts his heart time and time again, but her eyes glisten with something he can’t place, and she’s shifting her attention away from him before he can ask her. They stand in a stony silence as parents pass by Ori’s table and watch as she presents her fireworks in a jar to each group. Ori explains all the different colors she used and points out the directions on the poster board Bucky helped her put together.

The whole presentation takes roughly five minutes, and Ori looks at Y/n and Bucky as soon as she finishes, she beams brightly as a few of the parents mumble something about points for creativity. Bucky sneaks a peek over at Y/n, and she’s grinning as wide as can be and giving Ori a wink, mouthing what a great job Ori had and how proud she was of her.

So it is him.

He’s the reason. He did something– or he said something, either way, this is all on him.

“Are you mad at me or somethin’? Because I don’t know, Y/n. Things have been… off.“

Bucky knows this isn’t the place to have this conversation. The last thing he wants to do is to talk about this in front of a little boy and penguin diorama. Especially since the kid seems far too interested in what Bucky is saying. After tonight, he’s not sure when he will see her again.

It had to be now.

Y/n jerks around to look at Bucky, shrieking louder than she should for a pre-k through first grade art show, “What? No! I just –-I don’t want to get in your way or anything. If you’re bringing another woman home or trying to date someone, I don’t want them to think you, and I are a couple. I don’t want to cause problems for any of your relationships.”

Bucky can feel his chest tighten with each word, and he has to look away because it hurts far too badly. He can’t bear to look at her while his heart is splitting in his chest. His eyes fall back on the kid with the candy stained glass in the far corner, who is moving his hands frantically in the air as he explains his project. The distraction only lasts a moment. Man, was he dense thinking she could ever see him as something more than whatever the hell they are right now.

“Right,” Bucky ultimately bites out. “Because all we could ever be is just friends.”

Y/n swallows the lump in her throat and stammers in a shaky whisper, “O-of course. Just friends.”

Bucky is really starting to dislike the phrase just friends.

As it turns out, all the kids are winners. So maybe Bucky was wrong for telling Ori’s teacher that it seemed a little messed up to have parents go around and vote on five-year olds' artwork. He admits now that he should have read the flyer more closely. The announcement comes just in time to save Bucky from another moment of heartbreak and humiliation – he is running out of time, fast. Even though everyone got the same dark blue participation ribbon, Ori did win an extra award, and he’s telling everyone he knows his kid got first place in at the art fair. If only one of them could get what they wanted tonight, he would rather it be Ori.

How could he not with that adorable excited grin squishing her chubby cheeks?

“Daddy! Y/n! Come take a picture with me! Please! Please!

“Of course, starlight.”

“Anything for you comet.”

No matter what is going on between them, they would do anything for Ori, and that includes standing together for a potentially painfully awkward photograph to make her happy. Bucky’s hand falls to Y/n’s lower back unthinkingly, as they push through the group Bucky keeps closeby knowing her distaste for large, suffocating crowds and she revels in his warmth until they reach Ori’s table and they are forced to part to take their places behind Ori.

Y/n chews her bottom lip and chances a glimpse at Bucky who is already watching her. The soft smile he gives her makes her heart flutter and provides her with a bit of courage. She shuffles closer to him to slide her hand down his arm and intertwines their fingers together. She knows Bucky hasn’t looked away from her, but she can’t look back right now – the cut still stings. He clears his throat and looks back at the woman holding the camera, gives her a curt nod. Bucky isn’t sure this means anything at all, but if it’s hope?

Bucky will take all the hope he can get.

“Is this everybody?” The photographer asks from behind her camera, and Ori replies with a wide grin, “Yep! This is my family!”

Y/n’s hand tightens around Bucky’s, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in her breath or the tears welling in her eyes. He gives her hand a squeeze and gently urges her closer– reassurance. Because, yes, she’s their family, and nothing could change that now. A few flashes, a giggling squeal later and it’s done. No one can take it back. And, yeah it’s only for an elementary school yearbook, he doesn’t care. She’s inked onto the image right next to Bucky and Ori forever.

She’s part of their family always.

“Y/n, can we talk for a second…”

“Mr.Barnes,” Ori’s teacher interrupts, giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder. “Could I talk to you for a second?”

Y/n’s hand is out of his so fast it made his head spin. The look on Mr. Banner’s face makes him feel like he’s in tenth grade and got caught flirting in class. By someone’s good fortune (certainly not Bucky’s) he doesn’t ask Bucky about her, just focuses on Ori. Bucky wants to pay attention, something about special assignments and jumping a grade level, going right into first grade instead of kindergarten but he’s finding it hard to concentrate. He shoots a gander over to the girls and sees Y/n kissing Ori’s cheeks and gushing over both her ribbons. He grins and turns back to find a less than impressed expression on Mr. Banner’s face.

“Sorry,” Bucky clears his throat, giving him an apologetic smile, “Jumping a grade level, you said?”

Ten minutes, three pamphlets, and the promise to read a very lengthy email, Bucky is finally free. He just has to find where two very important girls went… His heart sinks when he sees Ori sitting on the chair next to her table right next to him, talking to one of her teachers. No Y/n anywhere to be found

“Where did Y/n go?” Bucky asks once they are alone and drops down to her level.

“She gave me kisses and had to leave daddy. Can we go see Uncle Stevie now? I want to show him my ribbons!”

Guess hope was a stretch.

Bucky pushes the blow to his heart as far down as he can get it and nods, “Yeah, we can go comet. Do we have to pack any of this up?”

“Mr. Banner says it has to stay in class for more pictures. Are you going to go see Y/n?” Ori asks casually and hops off her chair holding her ribbons in her right hand and taking her dad’s with her free hand. She’s not embarrassed to hold his hand, and Bucky prays it stays like that for a few more years.

Bucky’s brows pinch together at the thought, and he looks down at Ori, “What? Why would I go see her? She was just here.”

“Yeah, but you love Y/n,” Ori shrugs and looks up at him. “When you love someone you wanna see them all the time, like how Uncle Stevie always wants to be with Uncle Sammy.”

It’s official, his daughter is smarter than him.

Bucky doesn’t linger at Steve’s. He’s had enough for one night, and he didn’t think he could take all the questions once they find out that Ori invited Y/n. He can hear it all now – What did you say? Did you tell her you like her? Ask her out! Sure, asking her out in the middle of a school event would be a good idea. It wouldn’t be embarrassing to get turned down in front of a bunch of kids or anything.

He’s going to take a pass on that level of humiliation. Instead, he’s going to sit at home, have a few beers and maybe go to bed early. He can do whatever he wants. No kid for the night and clearly no girlfriend. Bucky tosses his keys on the counter and walks around to the fridge, stuffing the leftover lemon pancakes behind the jug of milk. They don’t need to look so smug, y’know? No one likes smug pancakes.

The sound of the fridge door snapping shut in the emptiness of the bottom floor of his brownstone has his stomach lurching. Bucky sighs and sets his unopened beer on the counter. Okay, so sitting at home all alone is a bad idea. He can always call Natasha and Clint because being the third wheel is always a blast. His eyes land on his copy of The Martian and it glares back at him. Bucky slowly reaches out and flips the cover open where he keeps a bright pink sticky note. Bucky’s finger traces over her words from all those months ago.

Love at first sight is a hoax.

“Screw this,” Bucky grumbles to the empty house and snatches his keys off the counter. He has someone he needs to see.

------

The soft melancholy melody playing from her phone and the gentle pitter-patter of the rain outside did nothing to help the mood Y/n finds herself in this evening. When she got home from the art show she attempted to eat something but nothing could entice her stomach’s interest, whatever dumb movie was playing on Showtime couldn’t keep her attention for more than a moment, her bed felt too big and too cold and not one star could be seen from her bedroom window. She finally gives up around closer to eleven and wanders down into the store.

There’s a new shipment of books she can put away; if she isn’t going to sleep, she can at least give herself a headstart for the following day. Surely, tomorrow will be better than the utter disaster today has been. The pressure surrounding her and Bucky did nothing to ease the burning in her chest. It didn’t help that she ran the first moment she could and didn’t bother with goodbye. There isn’t much more he can say anyway– at least not while he is taken.

She wasn’t going to be that girl, regardless of how much she wants to be his girl.

A sudden heavy pounding at the shop’s front door puts a halt to Y/n’s progress. She drops the books in her hands on the counter with a loud thwap and tries to calm the rapid thumping against her ribs. There’s a shadowy figure standing behind the darkened glass of the front door, but between the fallen twilight and the rain she can’t make out who it is. She reaches for her phone, and without thinking, her trembling fingers take her to the only person she truly trusts.

“Beck! Open up. You in there?”

Her thumb hovers over Bucky’s number when his voice rings through the front door. What the heck? She slowly sets her phone down, letting the music resume as she tentatively makes her way to the front door. The closer Y/n gets, the more she recognizes that dark brown mop of hair and her heart would know his voice among a thousand others.

“Bucky! What are you doing?” She asks, her voice panicked and uncertain.

The door comes flying open from the force of her worry. The only reason she could come up with for Bucky being here like this was Ori. Something terrible had to have happened after she left. She seals the door behind him and attempts to help him out of his wet jacket.

“Where is Ori? Is she okay?”

The blatant concern in her eyes for his daughter makes him smile despite the disquiet clogging up his heart. Y/n always thinks about Ori first. Bucky likes that– No, he loves that.

“She’s fine,” Bucky assures her, dropping his jacket on the coat rack by the door. “She’s at Steve’s showing off her ribbons the last time I saw her. I just had to see you.”

The admission leaves her confused (as if she isn’t confused enough lately) and more importantly, it knocks the breath right out of her lungs, “Oh, and you came over here in the pouring rain at eleven at night because you had to see me?”

“Yeah,” Bucky huffs a small laugh hoping the night blanketing the store will hide the stain on his cheeks. He nods towards the desk holding several stacks of books. “I guess I did. I didn’t think you would be working this late but do you need help?”

“Oh, um sure. I guess I could use the help.”

Y/n walks back towards the computer and slowly sits on the stool behind the counter, leaving them separated by two feet of oak. Bucky hands her books, and she scans them before passing them back, it’s easy and comfortable until she finds herself blurting, “You didn’t want to spend the night with your girlfriend with Ori being out of the house and all?”

She winces at the sour note of jealousy in her voice and quickly turns around to grab the stack of books behind her, using it as a chance to avoid what she’s sure is a look of pity or possibly annoyance.

“Girlfriend?” Bucky pauses until she spins back around because he is not going to say this until she’s looking at him. She needs to know he’s isn’t feeding her some bullshit line when he tells her there’s no girlfriend. He has to make her understand, outside of Ori, no one in his life comes close to her.

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I haven’t had a girlfriend in an… embarrassingly long time. A few maybes but no girlfriends.”

“But… I thought…” Y/n’s mind floats back to that day standing right where they are, and Ori’s little voice fills her head, he’s good at loving me, but I don’t think he knows what to say when he loves someone else.

Bucky abandons the books in his hand and leans forward on his elbows to close the space between them, “ Is that why you cancelled our d– night? You thought I was dating someone and still asked you to come over to have dinner with me?”

She shrugs, realizing how stupid it sounds when he puts it like that. Bucky would never invite another woman to his house for dinner and a movie if he were in a serious relationship with someone, and she knows that. Y/n leans on her elbows mirroring the man across from her, “I guess that should have been my first clue, but I panicked. It didn’t feel right to have a movie night alone if you were dating someone.”

He extends his arms and covers her hands with his, meeting her eyes before he spoke, “I’m not dating anyone, Y/n. There is no one in my life. You’re the only woman I want to spend my nights with.”

Y/n raises her brow, smirking at his unintentional innuendo. Bucky’s cheeks pink once his words register, and he quickly tries to fix the badly chosen words, “I didn’t– I don’t mean spend my nights with. I do want to spend my nights with you, but I didn’t mean it that way. Not that I’m saying if we were together or wanted to be together that I wouldn’t want to –” He blows out a breath and chuckles at his own expense, “Can we please forget what I said?”

She giggles, “I know what you meant, Bucky. It was fun to watch you fumble for that recovery though.”

“Gee, thanks,” Bucky deadpans.

A comfortable silence works its way throughout the room, and it’s nothing like this afternoon. It’s peaceful and right and everything she loves about being with Bucky. He lights up her heart in a way no one else has, and she’s sure she won’t find anyone else who comes close.

“There’s really no one else?” He can hear the vulnerability through the uneasy sway in her voice, and he never wants to make her feel this way ever again.

Bucky’s hands squeeze over hers, and he lets his thumb graze over the back of her hand, the sincerity in his voice harmonizing with the hold he has on her hand, “No. There’s just you, Beck.”

Y/n response is just a simple grin. It’s all she can do. She grins, and Bucky grins right back. Tony was right, she thinks. That’s going to be fun to admit to his face. Speaking of Tony. She wonders… “I’m not sure if you heard but,” She takes a deep breath and says, “Tony is getting married.”

Bucky’s brows shoot up, and she chuckles. Pretty much her reaction.

“Really? Tony Stark is getting married?” She hums in response, ignoring the glow of jealousy in his eyes and the way his grip clenched around her hand. Honestly, how he can be jealous of Tony right now, she can’t understand.

“Next July. Do you… want to be my plus one?”

Bucky’s thumb stalls and his hand tightens involuntarily this time, “You’re asking me to go with you a year from now? What if you have… someone else you want to go with? You could meet anyone before next year.”

“I won’t,” Y/n promises.

Hope came back in the nick of time.

“Okay, Y/n. I’ll go with you,” He swears.

“Oh!” Y/n squeals. “I got you something!”

Bucky grins as he watches her do that little run hop she does when she’s excited about something. He stretches his fingers to push out the cold that swarmed him the moment he lost her touch. The light flicks on in her office, and he regards her as she grabs something relatively small– tiny enough she can conceal it in her fist, but something else quickly catches his eye on the far side of her office.

Oh, hell, Bucky thinks.

“Hey! How the hell did you get the calendar?” She grins at the whine in his voice, “ And why is it on that wall? Everyone who comes into the store can see it!”

“I have an in with the princess. Her highness saw my name signed on the bottom and thought I must have forgotten it.” Bucky groans making her giggle as she walks back over to her place across from him, “Get over it. It’s not going anywhere, December.”

Y/n hesitantly opens her clenched fist to show him two black bracelets with a little silver star in the middle.

“They are pinky promise bracelets. You put it on and make a wish. When it falls off, that means your wish is about to come true. I know it’s kind of silly, and you don’t have to wear it, but it made me think of you and us…”

Bucky holds his arm out for her and smiles. Zero hesitation. He would wear a silly bracelet if she asks him to, but he doesn’t think it’s all that silly. She delicately wraps the bracelet around his wrist, and he grabs the matching one from her palm, wrapping it around her wrist. This time he’s the one weaving their fingers together, five minutes without her warmth was long enough. The only sounds echoing in the sugar-filled atmosphere was slowing raindrops hitting the windows and soft buzz of the song playing through her phone.

“Okay, so we close our eyes and w-we wish,” Y/n breathes over the soft undertones of the music.

Their eyes fall shut in unison. He takes a chance and opens one eye to get a peek at Y/n; her head is tilted to the side, and her nose is crinkled as she makes her wish. He grins and closes his eyes. He doesn’t need a lot of time to make his wish, he’s been making the same wish every night for the last month.

“Done?”

Bucky opens his eyes to find her watching him, he nods, but his eyes were centered on her pretty lips, as much as he wants to kiss her this isn’t the time. It’s a big step, a huge leap to take and it will change everything. Ori’s life will never be the same, and neither will theirs. He needs to be one hundred percent sure this will work before he does something else they can’t take back.

“So I have to wait for my wish to come true?”

Y/n responds with a small shrug leaving her hands resting comfortably in his hold, “That’s what it says, but I suppose it would depend on what you wished for. What was your wish?”

Bucky shakes his head casually and slow grin tugs at his lips, “Now, sweetheart, I can’t go tellin’ you my wish. It won’t come true.” She laughs and leans in towards the middle of the counter, so their noses were nearly touching. All he has to do is tilt his head an inch, and he would finally find out just how soft her lips are.

“I really did miss you,” Y/n admits into the calm, letting the confession hang in the air with the rest of her secrets. Her fingers slip between his wrist and the soft strand of the bracelet where she can feel each gentle thump of his heart.

“You’ve got no idea how much I missed you, sweetheart,” Buck swore, sure and sincere. He’s never missed anything or anyone as much as missed her these past five days.

“You pinky promised,” she quickly reminded him of that predestined night shared on a balcony and front steps twenty miles apart. The stars saw that moment, saw them in this very moment long ago – they’ve always been destined to end up right here.

“I did, and I’m sorry. I should have come over the day you text me. I knew something wasn’t right, but I didn’t want to overstep. There are a lot of things I shouldn’t have let go unsaid,” Bucky tells her, slight regret filling his words but she can see a newfound determination in his eyes.

He’s not the only one at fault for the position they are in. Y/n could have pushed jealousy and hurt aside and simply asked him. All she had to do was ask if he was seeing anyone and tell him about her talk with Ori. He may have even laughed at that. Ori’s voice is playing over and over in her head, I hope so. We can’t wait forever, right?”

Wait, did Ori mean she’s the… No, no that’s not what either of them meant. Or maybe, just maybe the stars are on her side tonight

“If you’re guilty then so am I,” Y/n admits with a smile. “We don’t want to wait forever, now do we?”

He tilts his head to the side and is smiling through the confusion etched onto his beautiful face, “No, I guess we don’t want to wait forever.”

Bucky stares at her for a second, turning over a thousand different scenarios in his head. There are a lot of ways this night could go, and not all are good, but the way she’s looking at him? Smiling ear to ear, that cheek-hurting happiness written on her face sends his heart spinning into a helpless surrender; one he’s more than willing to give to her and her alone.

“Whaddya say we skip inventory and I take you to dinner. It sounds like it stopped rainin’,” Bucky can see the momentary flash hesitation in her eyes and the glance down at her worn overalls and plain white shirt. He’s not sure what the pout is for because she looks beautiful no matter what she’s wearing. Bucky gives a gentle tug to her bracelet and smiles when she looks up, “You don’t need to get all dolled up to have dinner with me. I like you, remember? Old books pages and all.”

As if she could tell him no after that – not that she wants to tell him no ever. “Okay, but I get to pick where we go.”

Bucky would give her whatever she wants if she only let him.

“Whatever you want, babydoll.”

Not once does he let go of her hand as she walks around the counter, he switches hands as he helps her into her jacket and he is reaching for her the moment the storefront door is locked – there is a lot he should have said and a lot he should have done, he was right about that, and he’s not letting another chance slip away.

“I like that,” She mumbles tucking herself into his side as they walk down the rain-soaked street.

“Like what?”

A soft sigh and a sweet confession, “I like when you call me babydoll.”

Bucky doesn’t promise to call her that more or tease her like he usually would. He doesn’t repeat it just to watch her get flustered – despite how much she wants to see that. There’s no cheap one-liner that would do that justice. If she’s important enough to consume all his wishes than she’s worth way more than some shoddy line. He presses a kiss to her temple, letting his lips linger longer than a friend should and wraps his arm around her whispering back, “I like it too.”

Because boy does he.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fireman!Bucky #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #daddy!bucky #single dad bucky #SINGLE DAD AU #Firefighter AU #alternate universe

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jamestaylorswift · 4 years

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Love’s a game, wanna play? A meta-analysis of the game of love and Taylor’s love of games

—

Before actually getting into this, I’m obligated to make the disclaimer that this is just my interpretation of some songs. I’m not claiming to be “right” about anything. I have no way of knowing whether my observations will hold true if/when Taylor releases more music. It doesn’t really matter. There are many ways to interpret music.

Games are not the only extended metaphor in her discography; if you understand one, you don’t necessarily understand them all. This essay is an exploration of how one particular metaphor could be so effective.

In addition, I am often the first person to say that “not everything is that deep.” Yet here I am, making something deep. I was only mildly curious about this metaphor at first. In the process of documenting my understanding, I surprised even myself as I realized how rich this metaphor is.

A warning…this essay is very long. (It’s either mildly interesting or completely ridiculous and nothing in between. Likely the second.)

—

The notion of a ‘game’ is often conflated with the notion of adversarial conflict. This misunderstanding is largely due to Western structural/cultural forces. Mathematicians and economists have a passion for framing most predicaments as zero-sum, or strictly competitive, where one player’s advantageous move by definition disadvantages their opponent. But collaborative and otherwise not strictly competitive games exist too.

Taylor’s fascination with games spans her entire discography. Artistic preoccupation is reason alone to analyze her work from such an acute angle. But pleasantly, Taylor also does not share the academics’ favorite pastime. She strays away from the zero-sum bias in very unpredictable ways. In fact, she has no bias. She prefers to mix and match her language to each situation as she sees fit. Her convolution of love and games is expressive, divorced from the logical framework by which games are defined. I think examining this facet of her work with a fine-toothed comb may be especially illuminating.

It seems counterintuitive to argue that games could (or should) be anything more than Taylor’s favorite metaphorical manifestation of logos. Yet revisiting a metaphor is itself communication, conscious or not. Advancing an understanding of this extended metaphor, in my opinion, substantiates what is usually intangible about Taylor’s songwriting brilliance.

On Games

Precocious and perceptive, Taylor has, for as long as she’s been writing, placed competition, strategy, and collaboration alongside conflict. Therefore, for the sake of coherence and relative brevity, analysis is scoped only to songs with significant mentions of games, puzzles, or game-related imagery. ‘Games’ are not conflated with general fighting, trickery, toying, revenge, mention of rules/strategizing, or winning/losing. ‘Puzzles’ are not conflated with disorder; puzzle pieces must be pieces of a larger, vivid picture.

Consider football. Imagery of high school football makes “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” fair territory. Someone shouting over a football game in a bar does not qualify “Mean.” The football helmet worn in “Stay Stay Stay” is an absurd and compelling detail in context, as likely to be fictitious as it is true, and hence more significant than a televised sporting event; “Stay Stay Stay” qualifies. In essence, games are interesting as a device rather than a simple detail.

Below is a list of the songs with significant game reference(s), categorized by implied type. Note that a song can belong to multiple categories if it contains multiple references.

Generic/unspecified games: “Come in With the Rain”, “Dear John”, “State of Grace”, “Blank Space”, “Wonderland”, “…Ready For It?”, “End Game”, “Look What You Made Me Do”

Card games: “New Romantics”, “End Game”, “Cornelia Street”, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”

Dice games: “Cruel Summer”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Board games: “Dear John”

Sports/contests: “The Story Of Us”, “Long Live”, “Stay Stay Stay”, “End Game”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Puzzles: “Red”, “All Too Well”, “So It Goes…”

Other: “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”

Like many people, Taylor habitually seeks structure to manage unpredictability. (Games provide structure for situational volatility, hence her artistic love affair with this metaphor.) The stylistic choices she makes to entertain this habit, however, are anything but consistent.

The games have a variety of different players, such as in “Dear John” and “Look What You Made Me Do.”

She does not establish strict parity between characters’ emotional affiliation and the competitiveness of a game. “Dear John” features an adversarial game. Conversely, her partner in “Blank Space” is a co-conspirator/collaborator. “All Too Well” analogizes autumn leaves as puzzle pieces; puzzles are collaborative games.

Taylor famously claims that love is a game in “Blank Space.” This song is colloquially understood to be about the love story we see play out in the media. Games can thus include all parts of her ‘love life.’ Arguably, she foreshadows this in “Long Live” by intertwining parts of her ‘America’s sweetheart’ image with professional success, which is derived from writing about love.

Taylor is not always a player in a game, such as in “Cruel Summer.” Her partner may not be either; see the crossword in “Red.”

In short, humans are unpredictable, as is love. It is clear that Taylor uses games as an incredibly powerful metaphorical device. They are a genuine reflection of her feelings about love.

Musical analysis usually begins with careful consideration of each track. Given a disparate and lengthy list of songs, it is probably more fruitful to go up a layer of abstraction. Of particular intrigue for this set of songs is the relationship between time and Taylor’s willingness to divulge more information about a metaphorical game.

We revisit the set of songs to list them in chronological order. The purely ‘generic’ songs are now bolded: “Come in With the Rain”, “Dear John”, “The Story Of Us”, “Long Live”, “State of Grace”, “Red”, “All Too Well”, “Stay Stay Stay”, “Blank Space”, “Wonderland”, “New Romantics”, ”…Ready For It?”, “End Game”, “Look What You Made Me Do”, “So It Goes…”, “Cruel Summer”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”, “Cornelia Street”, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”

Specificity about a game seems to decrease with proximity to the 1989 era.

Lyrical imprecision in “Come in With the Rain,” a true outlier, probably boils down to youth.

“State of Grace” is a preamble about the themes of Red. “Begin Again,” though much later on that album, shares the same inspiration as “State of Grace.” Red is constructed as a sandwich between these two songs which present the album’s thesis. The album considered as a whole is thus a buffer for 1989.

reputation is a buffer for 1989 because the ‘generic’ game songs are heavily and intentionally front-loaded.

“New Romantics” is a coda for 1989, and its poker game reference is slightly ambiguous. What, exactly, is poker; what is all in the timing? The thematic material of “New Romantics” is most similar to that of “Blank Space.” ‘It’ is the same crude game played in the earlier track, the affair of collecting men. Perhaps this close relation subsumes “New Romantics” under the ‘generic’ game category. (Though this is a loose explanation.)

There exists an undeniable chronological pattern to game characterization. If you graphed the amount of game-related lyrical obscurity versus time, it would look like a shallow sand dune with the tip at the 1989 era. (Or a hill. Or a big pile of leaves. You get the picture.)

Armed with a basic understanding of Taylor’s career, one might say that her desire for personal privacy manifests as reticence to define metaphorical games. The 1989 era was the height of media attention on her. This caused more than a few issues. The art created around this time would have naturally reflected how she felt about the public eye. (See: the entire reputation era.)

But isn’t Taylor almost as famous as ever today? Sure, her name is not as saturated in the zeitgeist as it was in 2014. She’s still one of the world’s mega-stars. And does she not have a very private relationship today? Taylor’s work reflects her hardened personal boundaries, but boundaries alone do not explain the pattern of how she writes about games. Otherwise Lover would be filled to the brim with songs about ‘generic’ games.

To summarize, Taylor uses games as a perennial favorite metaphor to frame her experiences of love. Increased public scrutiny undoubtedly changed the way that Taylor approached songwriting; even so, fame was not a factor that changed how she wrote about games. The connection between time and types of games suggests that we cannot consider game metaphors in isolation.

On Love

The next piece of the puzzle (no pun intended) is what she shares about love. Which 1989 songs are most revealing? Technically…most of them, if you think hard enough. I’d like to draw special attention to “Wonderland” and “You Are in Love.”

Ah, “You Are in Love.” The musical gift that keeps on giving! Fitting, because true love should be too.

In “Wonderland,” Taylor says:

It’s all fun and games ’til somebody loses their mind

Shortly thereafter in the “You Are in Love” bridge, she proclaims:

You understand now why they lost their mind and fought the wars

And why I’ve spent my whole life trying to put it into words

Taylor reverses her opinion about the prospect of losing her mind for love. (The abruptness here is a consequence of a real-life relationship change, plus the fact that both of these songs are bonus tracks.) Of course, she also tells us an important connection between love and games.

I’ll pause here to say that I’m not going to turn this into a (frankly uninteresting) relationship timeline/proof post. But may the profound significance of “You Are in Love” and its subject never escape us.

“You Are in Love” is written in the second person. Taylor is the intensely guarded ‘you.’ We witness her emotional walls get broken down by her lover, the ‘he.’ Fascinatingly, Taylor departs from the second person point of view in the bridge. Suddenly, she alerts us to the presence of an ‘I.’ The bridge says that ‘you’ Taylor, whole and normal-person-in-a-relationship Taylor, finally understands true love. In the same breath, ‘I,’ writer Taylor, admits that she’s had it all wrong for years. (This is not to say that her writing pursuits before this moment were pointless.) Therefore, breaking the second person point of view to include the ‘I’ line shows that Taylor distills the nature of true love in that ‘eureka’ moment.

Yet she exposes the schism of writer Taylor and whole, normal person Taylor in a moment where, in theory, those two roles could not overlap more. Taylor has every reason to faithfully represent her feelings. Her sentiment is always sincere even though she may falsify details of a story. “You Are in Love” is (as far as I’m aware) the only song in which Taylor ever blatantly admits to writer-person misalignment. The schism must run extremely deep.

Taylor was—and surely still is—drawn to songwriting as a means to explore love. She tries to to capture its enigmatic essence with the written word. How fascinating it is that, at the very moment she communicates her deepest understanding of love, she says that the part of her that puts it into words is inherently disconnected from her spirit which feels it.

On Games And Love

We must briefly table the meta-implications of “You Are in Love” to return to the topic of games.

Love probably would have stopped feeling like a game after finding a real gem of a person who doesn’t mess with your head. (Love also probably would have stopped feeling like a game after dialing down on brazen PR tomfoolery.) Taylor has written several albums about her true love. It’s easier now to trace the arc of her feelings: it is a positive path, as anyone would predict.

Why would she continue to write about games after 1989? The obvious answer is that she likes doing it. It remains a useful metaphor.

But recall that chronology discourages us from considering metaphorical games in isolation. To clarify the principal function of the game metaphor in her discography, we must consider the writer-person dichotomy.

First, note that Taylor exposes the writer-person dichotomy in an honest, vulnerable moment. She confirms it as a human phenomenon. The phenomenon thus must extend beyond a singular moment during 1989. Distance between writer Taylor and whole, normal person Taylor—a measure henceforth called writer-person distance—is necessarily a function of time. Coincidentally, so is the measure of game-related lyrical obscurity.

Writer-person distance can grow or shrink. It was small in her youth; this is what pushed her into songwriting. It is small now, as she has told us in the albums since 1989 that true love has stitched her back together. Again, because writer-person distance is a human phenomenon, it changes slowly, smoothly. (“You Are in Love” simply marks the biggest distance.) Does this sound familiar? If you graphed writer-person distance versus time, the graph would look like a shallow sand dune with the tip at the 1989 era. (Or a hill. Or a big pile of leaves. Once again, you get the picture.)

To summarize, game-related lyrical obscurity and writer-person distance are smooth functions. “You Are in Love” is the inflection point of both measures.

With “Wonderland” and “You Are in Love,” Taylor tells us that games are linked to how she conceptualizes love. But not just any love. 🎶 True love. 🎶

At the same time, Taylor presents “You Are in Love” as a dividing line between ‘that which is a best attempt to understand something that inherently cannot be captured’ and ‘that which refines the thing that, against all odds, was captured.’ Our interpretation of games must synthesize an abrupt ‘eureka’ moment with both the measures’ gradual changes.

If we are to talk about metaphorical games, we also must talk about true love. But we know that if we are to talk about games, we also must talk about time. Vital to uniting these ideas is the revelation that Taylor conceptualizes the nature of true love as the nature of time. For doesn’t time define what is gradual and abrupt?

The most important line in “You Are in Love” is when Taylor finds it—‘it’ being love. A literal ‘eureka’ moment. This isn’t just a one-time coincidence.

Writer-person bifurcation clarifies why the game metaphor is surprisingly effective. As Taylor revisits the convolution of love and games, the metaphor morphs in tandem with her innate understanding of love.

Some Good Old-fashioned Song Analysis

Observing how games, love, and time are intertwined requires that we reject purely literal interpretations of game-related lyrics after “You Are in Love.” Of course, literal interpretations are still generally useful, even correct. Games are literal, so references to them should be interpreted as such. Also, lyrics about games are probably Not This Deep in reality. We didn’t have to do all this work to realize what songs might belong in conversation with each other; identifying lyrical callbacks would have been sufficient. Treating game lyrics as purely literal limits how we might decipher a recurring metaphor. Without the notions of game specificity or writer-person distance, we would lack a framework with which to fully interrogate how these songs are are connected (i.e. through time). And, after all, the ultimate goal is to understand why the game metaphor is so successful. But, I digress.

(We’ve also made it this far and we might as well keep going. Another couple thousand words…don’t threaten me with a good time, amirite?)

To observe how games, love, and time are intertwined, I propose the following rule of thumb: A game reference before “You Are in Love” is Taylor’s description of love, whereas a game reference afterwards is a pointer to past instances of that game. Such a reference is metaphysical, or more appropriately, meta-lyrical. If she’s referenced a game already, she knows how to use that reference again. If she introduces a new reference, she’s planting it for future use.

We can group the songs after “You Are in Love” by game type:

Generic/unspecified games: “…Ready For It?”, “End Game”, “Look What You Made Me Do”

Dice games: “Cruel Summer”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Card games: “New Romantics”, “End Game”, “Cornelia Street”, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”

Sports/contests: “End Game”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Puzzles: “So It Goes…”

Other: “It’s Nice To Have A Friend"

Analysis requires precision. We should pare down the duplicates, if possible.

“It’s Nice To Have A Friend” is tricky because it’s naturally sparse. “Video games,” for example, are more than a simple detail: they are an essential part of creating a childhood vignette. “Twenty questions” and the card game “bluff” function analogously in the later verses. The brilliance of this song lies in how Taylor illustrates the development of companionship and intimacy. The verse about marriage is the most significant verse because it reveals the meaning of the whole song. Thus, we may take the bluff to be more important than twenty questions, which is more important than video games. “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” ultimately belongs in the card game category.

Central to the pathos of “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” is the “stupid” dice game lyric. Of equal importance is the portrait of Americana, painted with lyrics about Friday night lights. This song truly belongs in two categories.

At the end of “…Ready For It?” Taylor fires a starting pistol, letting ‘generic’ games begin. “End Game” follows and we assume it must pertain to the same game. So Taylor intentionally places this song in the first category. The hook has lyrics about a varsity “A-team,” though this is probably just a nod to Ed Sheeran. The other truly interesting game-related lyric is the one about bluffing. Thus, “End Game” also belongs in the card game category.

Here’s the new list:

Generic/unspecified games: “…Ready For It?”, “End Game”, “Look What You Made Me Do”

Dice games: “Cruel Summer”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Card games: “New Romantics”, “End Game”, “Cornelia Street”, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”

Sports/contests: “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Puzzles: “So It Goes…”

Each of the four obvious groups of songs illustrate a different way Taylor weaves the natures of true love and time together:

Déjà vu: “So It Goes…”

Hindsight/wisdom: “…Ready For It?”, “End Game”, “Look What You Made Me Do”

Fate: “Cruel Summer”, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince”

Progress: “New Romantics”, “End Game”, “Cornelia Street”, “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”

Déjà vu

The puzzles category only contains one song, making it easiest to analyze. The namesake of “So It Goes…” is Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse Five, famously constructed like a mosaic. Puzzles are central to the meaning of this song.

“All Too Well” contains the first instance of a puzzle metaphor in her discography:

Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place

Taylor calls back to “All Too Well” in the chorus of “So It Goes…”

And our pieces fall

Right into place

Get caught up in the moment

Lipstick on your face

By referencing a previous song using identical phrasing, Taylor creates the illusion of a sudden ‘déjà vu’ moment. The effect is similar to “You Are in Love,” where she reaches sudden enlightenment.

Sonically and lyrically, the “moment” she gets caught up in is implied to be the one in which she gets lost in passionate sex. The déjà vu moment could be this moment, but it doesn’t have to be. Déjà vu is agnostic to the present in the sense that the feeling can be triggered in the strangest of times. The déjà vu moment is whatever prompted her to write this song.

This game lyric connection clearly shows how a moment of love is defined by a moment of time.

Hindsight/Wisdom

The bombastic group of singles, “…Ready For It?”, “End Game,” and “Look What You Made Me Do,” sets the tone for all of reputation. The ‘generic’ games in these songs are the same as those in 1989, particularly the crude (and, in Taylor’s case, often interchangeable) games of celebrity and dating. In “Blank Space,” Taylor spells out in gory detail what she does as an agent in the celebrity dating game. She does not explicitly define the rules of that game, though. It remains sufficient for her to prove that she knows how to play by them. (Musically, this is far more interesting.)

We know that the reputation singles’ literal proximity to 1989 indicates Taylor’s direct emotional response the previous era. The consequences of a ‘fall from grace’ underpin the entire reputation era. Therefore, Taylor uses lyrical connections from reputation back to 1989 to illustrate hindsight. She tells us what she learned from her mistakes and what she wished she would have done differently.

But first, she gets to be salty about it. In “Look What You Made Me Do,” Taylor laments the fact that she participates in public games to appease others. (Because, really, withdrawing from the celebrity circus would immediately solve a lot of her problems. Alas, megastardom is a Venus flytrap.)

I don't like your little games

Don't like your tilted stage

The role you made me play

Of the fool, no, I don't like you

Let’s return to “Blank Space” for a moment. Taylor’s boyfriend in “Blank Space” is considered a co-conspirator/collaborator with her in the celebrity dating game. Central to our understanding of that song, however, is the unequal power dynamic. Taylor is the strategic mastermind, whereas her boyfriend is just along for the ride. The two are on the same team, but they are not equals.

Taylor actually leans further into the games of the 1989 era in “…Ready For It?”

Baby, let the games begin

Unlike in 1989, her partner is an equal on her team:

Me, I was a robber first time that he saw me

Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry

But if I'm a thief, then he can join the heist

And we'll move to an island

She then connects “…Ready For It?” to “End Game”

Baby, let the games begin

Are you ready for it?

I wanna be your end game

Both Taylor and her partner are forced to play the same game and they share share the same goal. Her partner’s “end game” is Taylor; thus, Taylor keeps her true love by beating the celebrity dating game. They have to work together to achieve this difficult task.

Though the celebrity dating game is not true love, it impacts Taylor’s relationship with anyone who could be her true love. In hindsight, Taylor realizes how media games blew up in her face. It is wisdom—to keep her relationship private, to dial down on PR tomfoolery, to prioritize her happiness—that helps her pre-empt these problems for the reputation era. And indeed we understand the love story of reputation as the lovers’ prolonged attempt to hide from the public eye.

Hindsight comes with the natural passage of time. One only accrues wisdom, however, when they apply the lessons of hindsight to make better judgements about the future. Games again unite the ideas of love and time; they elucidate how Taylor uses wisdom to protect someone she loves.

Fate

“Cruel Summer” and “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” highlight the elegance of the meta-rule of thumb.

The dice game in “Cruel Summer” is a unique incarnation of the game metaphor because Taylor doesn’t confirm whether she is directly involved in this game:

Devils roll the dice

Angels roll their eyes

What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more // And if I bleed you’ll be the last to know

The song doesn’t reveal much about the nature of the dice game other than the fact that it is competitive. It could be a fitting description of what is going on in Taylor’s personal life. It may not be. What is more important is that Taylor positions herself as collateral damage of the outcome of the game.

This is also the dice game’s first appearance. By our rule of thumb, this lyric exists only to be a link to “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince.”

“Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” belongs to two different game categories, sports/contests and dice games.

First, dice games. We get a few more answers about the nature of the “Cruel Summer” competition:

It's you and me

That's my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, "she's a bad, bad girl"

The whole school is rolling fake dice

You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

It's you and me

There's nothing like this

Miss Americana and The Heartbreak Prince

We're so sad, we paint the town blue

Voted most likely to run away with you

Both Taylor and her partner are forced to play the dice game by virtue of being metaphorical students. As a disgraced and about-to-be-vagrant prom queen, Taylor has finally realized that winning the school’s dice game is not worth the price of a ‘fall from grace.’

Next, sports/contests. With the understanding of these lyrics as pointers to her previous songs, sports/contests harkens back to “The Story of Us,” “Long Live,” and “Stay Stay Stay.”

“The Story Of Us” suggests that a shared quality of sports/contest metaphors is that conflict is nuanced, even hidden to outsiders:

This is looking like a contest

Of who can act like they care less

In “Stay Stay Stay,” football is connected to (for lack of a better word) violence, conflict that could result in emotional and physical harm:

I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night

I threw my phone across the room at you

I was expecting some dramatic turn away

But you stayed

This morning I said we should talk about it

'Cause I read you should never leave a fight unresolved

That's when you came in wearing a football helmet

And said, "Okay, let's talk"

Finally, “Long Live” blends the ideas of small town Americana with Taylor’s personal and professional life:

I said remember this moment

In the back of my mind

The time we stood with our shaking hands

The crowds in stands went wild

I said remember this feeling

I passed the pictures around

Of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines

Wishing for right now

We are the kings and the queens

You traded your baseball cap for a crown

When they gave us our trophies

And we held them up for our town

And the cynics were outraged

Screaming, "this is absurd"

'Cause for a moment a band of thieves in ripped up jeans

Got to rule the world

The backdrop of “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” is not just any part of America. The juxtaposition of idyllic parts of American life with frictional, violent, yet sometimes subtle forces tells us that the song’s backdrop is an American culture war. It is conflict which unsettles everyone, but by nature hurts only some.

In totality, the function of the dice game metaphor is to position Taylor as collateral damage of an American culture war. (Chew on that one for a bit.)

Again, we probably could have surmised this by examining the lyrics closely. The song lends itself to being a signpost in the Lover chronology. It seems too autobiographical to be anything different. We all remember 2016.

However, “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” sticks out like a sore thumb from the album’s theme of “a love letter to love itself.” Revisiting games as a glue between love and time expands on the purpose of “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” in Lover.

The “Cruel Summer” bridge contains this lyric understood to be about her true love:

And I snuck in through the garden gate

Every night that summer just to seal my fate

Taylor identifies “that summer” in the 1989 era as the moment which she sealed her fate. Implicit in this confirmation is her perspective from the future. She is looking back on 1989 from the time when her terrible fate has just been realized.

The moment of realization is—you guessed it—the chorus of “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince.” The chorus depicts post-prom queen defamation. Taylor is aware of every single action (many, probably deliberate) that helped her achieve royalty. She never divulges them. The song is scoped only to the time when she lives her fate.

We usually take observations about fate and love to describe how two souls are bound to each other. Taylor does not tell us much about her lover in “Cruel Summer” sans the fact that the shape of their body is new. Paying special attention to games reframes “Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince” within the Lover theme as a commentary on fate. However, the emphasis of fate should not be on her lover. The dice game connection tells us that Taylor views “that summer” in the 1989 era as the time when she sealed her fate as collateral damage in the American culture war. From the “love letter to love itself” perspective, the moral is that passion and excitement can make lovers forget the immutability of individual destiny. If you are fated to be with someone, both of you are at the mercy of whatever the world has in store for the partnership and you as individuals.

Progress

An eclectic group of songs shares a reference to bluffing in a card game. The game metaphor beautifully stitches these songs together into parts of the same story.

The first and most detailed description of the card game is in “New Romantics”

We're all here

the lights and boys are blinding

We hang back

It's all in the timing

It's poker

He can't see it in my face

But I'm about to play my ace

A bluff in poker is an attempt to trick one’s opponent into thinking one has a better hand than they do in reality. The opponent may call their bluff and challenge them to prove their hand is as good as they advertise.

Bluffing requires deception, often telegraphed by facial expressions. Here, Taylor says that she is good at bluffing because she doesn’t let her façade crack. She is not truly bluffing, though, because she possesses an ace, presumably part of her even better hand. Her opponent has called her perceived bluff to prompt to her to reveal the ace.

The opponent, “he,” behaves as though Taylor is bluffing. Taylor, strategic as ever, is prepared to counter by revealing the most powerful card. We should thus interpret this metaphor as the ‘bluffer’ exceeding expectations. (Remember that the first instance of a metaphor is a base case, so we must take its meaning more literally.)

Likewise, in “End Game” and “It’s Nice To Have A Friend”, Taylor is the bluffer:

You've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks

Call my bluff, call you "babe"

However, “Cornelia Street” allows room for the interpretation that both Taylor and her lover are bluffers:

Back when we were card sharks, playing games

I thought you were leading me on

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street

Before you even knew I was gone

But then you called, showed your hand

I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Sat on the roof, you and I

Taylor may have also been a trickster: “then you called” could refer to the lover calling Taylor’s bluff.

The recurring bluff metaphor coincides with progress or forward momentum in a relationship.

Recall a previous discussion of “New Romantics.” We defined the “it” which is “all in the timing” as a reference to finding romance. “New Romantics” is set in a club with a dance floor, boys, and blinding lights. It’s the kind of setting conducive only to landing one-night stands. Taylor plays games with someone in the club, but exceeds expectations for the outcome of that game. What was flirting or courting becomes something more serious than a one night stand (i.e. an actual relationship). The act of calling a bluff in a card game engenders (relationship) progress. Yet again, what is intrinsic to time is intrinsic to love.

This observation fits with each song.

reputation charts the development of Taylor’s relationship, but the card game bluff in “End Game” is at the beginning of the album. That’s exactly why this lyric works so well. Her relationship is still new, nonetheless significant, after 1989. Her verse mixes these ideas:

I hit you like bang

We tried to forget it, but we just couldn't

And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put 'em

And I can't let you go, your hand print's on my soul

The “End Game” bluff represents how Taylor goes from wanting a steady relationship to wanting everything.

You might be able to see where this is going. “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” is the ‘discographical endpoint’ of the bluff metaphor. The verse about marriage delivers the song’s emotional punch:

Church bells ring, carry me home

Rice on the ground looks like snow

Call my bluff, call you "babe"

Have my back, yeah, everyday

Feels like home, stay in bed

The whole weekend

Notice, however, that the bluff metaphor occurs after the implied wedding. This is actually a beautiful sentiment. Intimacy, trust, and commitment are ongoing; growth doesn’t stop with a ring on a finger. The bluff, which represents delivering on promises and exceeding expectations for love, powers the relationship forward.

All signs point to the “Cornelia Street” bluff as the one that may have led to marriage.

Back when we were card sharks, playing games

I thought you were leading me on

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street

Before you even knew I was gone

But then you called, showed your hand

I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Sat on the roof, you and I

So emotionally charged is this scene that we have to wonder what, exactly, Taylor’s steady partner could do to make her (1) walk out if she were being led on and (2) come back so quickly.

The most intriguing detail about this card game is that both parties may have been bluffing. The lover is leading Taylor on, but Taylor does not stay to call the bluff. She leaves. Usually in poker, one would not want their opponent to be able to prove the bluff with a good hand. (Think back to the ace in “New Romantics”.) But what if both players are on the same team at the end of the day? Calling a bluff is now setting oneself up for potential disappointment. Taylor walks out because she is frightened by the mere possibility of being let down.

Taylor is also bluffing, but her lover doesn’t let her walk away so easily. They pull out all the stops and concede their hand in a desperate attempt to get Taylor to turn around from the tunnel. It works. By our understanding of the bluff metaphor, the lover exceeds all of Taylor’s expectations. The events that transpire on the roof presumably are when Taylor reveals her own cards.

The topic of marriage fits with this emotionally charged scene. Of course both lovers would tiptoe around the topic and be scared to reveal their true feelings.

So following the bluff metaphor helps us follow the course of true love. Calling and revealing a bluff is the catalyst for Taylor’s relationship. However, it also is the nature of time which underpins progress.

I concede that interpreting the bluff metaphor as the catalyst of a story makes it vulnerable to any truth-fuzzing. Perhaps Taylor hasn’t ever written about a real-life engagement or marriage. We have no way of knowing. We instead should take comfort in the fact that her lyrics are beautiful and music is open to interpretation.

On Writing

Our beliefs about love are bound to change over time. As a writer, Taylor is in a unique position to capture this change by revisiting a metaphor.

Take “It’s Nice To Have A Friend.” The song is written as a series of vignettes to define the qualities of love that remain consistent while relationships change over time. The middle vignette, with its reference to “twenty questions,” could very well point back to the same day as the “Cornelia Street” card game. Feelings reoccur in certain moments—déjà vu. The first vignette is a picture of childhood. The last vignette is a picture of adulthood. Therefore, it seems just as natural to interpret the middle vignette as a picture of adolescence or young adulthood. Light pink skies, back-and-forth conversations, and brave, soft moments of intimacy illustrate a coming-of-age experience. The same moment that pulls Taylor forward in her relationship is the one that also pulls her back to a different time.

Then the coming-of-age experience is reminiscent of the portrait of Americana, the Friday night lights, marching band, and high school prom. During adolescence, we only have an inkling of our futures. We are less aware of all the ways we are connected to others and our world. Young and impressionable, our only job is to live, to change, to make memories and mistakes. Memories and mistakes define what was, and experience creates wisdom that shapes what will be. So Taylor captures this duality in fate. The moment a fate is realized is a moment that is equally a fossil of the past and a forecast for the future. The moment it all makes sense…eureka!

As an artist, Taylor’s job is to communicate her human experience. Listeners decide whether or not she successfully telegraphs what is universal about it. However, Taylor is no more of a spokesperson for the universal human experience than anyone else. She simply possesses the talent, work ethic, and privilege to make a career of it.

Consider Taylor’s own summary of the past decade:

I once believed love would be burnin' red

But it's golden

She consciously and elegantly edits her previous beliefs about love. (Obviously, she may plant callbacks to previous songs purely for fun. This one is certainly sincere.) These lines illustrate the craft she has worked hard to develop.

Manifested in her craft is the need to revisit her ideas. It seems as though certain recurring metaphors have become the only way for her to accurately capture some parts of love. They become self-perpetuating. Unforced yet expressive subconscious consistency constitutes artistry. It is artistry which compels us to believe in the universality of music.

The self-perpetuating love/games metaphor is especially fascinating. It is one of the purest examples, though perhaps also one of the strangest, of how writing about love engenders new experiences of it. Taylor translates love into game language. Games illustrate duality. Duality is love.

Perhaps this conclusion is something others already know about Taylor’s talent. I’ve never quite been able to put my finger on it until now.

To me, it seems like the songs are writing themselves.

#taylor swift #kaylor #gaylor swift #music analysis #my post

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hong-kong-art-man · 3 years

Photo

Most People Are Good At One Thing Or Another, But The Multi-talented Star Simon Yam Takes It All——Acting & Photography

Photography refers to creating a photograph—now, including an ‘instagram’ as well. Whatever it may be—it is always an image produced by the action of light on a light-sensitive material or device, with or without colour, but the only colour which remains is our memory. Without the memory of a photograph, we would not be able to remember how we loved yesterday.

Stardom is the capacity to translate artistic vision into reality. There is a popular and talented actor in Hong Kong who was raised in the film industry but then moved to develop equally well the stardom in taking photographs. He is Simon Yam(任達華), tall, fit and handsome, who often appeared in Hollywood movies.

I asked Simon, “You are gifted with the ability of acting and photography. Why did you choose to act only in the 1970s?” He laughed, “Thank God! Apart from the tragedy that my father died when I was small and the harshness that my family was very poor, I have been a lucky man. I humbly admit that when I was a young man in the 70s, I possessed all the advantages: a good body, a camera face and tertiary education. Trying to be a model and actor was the natural course when I wanted to be after quick money to help my mother in those years. Actually, my childhood interest and delight were more in the beautiful things which existed in the world: sky, mountains, rivers, flowers and even rocks or fossils. I drew and sketched. I, unluckily, got no money to take any proper painting class. In 1986, I bought my first expensive camera Minolta. I told myself, ‘Painting is a visual art but photography is one and the same expression of art through space, colour, line and shape. Photography is easier to learn although it takes something really special to become great. For me, I just desire to express myself through art and becoming great is not my next stage of concern.’ So, I started to take some satisfying photographs, with a couple of clicks and simple steps. That was how I undertook photography as my hobby instead of painting.”

I wondered, “Simon, how do you handle acting and photo shooting at the same time?” He smiled, “Whenever someone asked me to act, the joy of me being able to take pictures in a new environment would burn out my imminent fear of labouring. Acting could be a tough job especially when I worked outside Hong Kong and the location might be a jungle or desert. I would face a series of tough and tiring moments, which followed each other in an endless cycle. When pain did come near me, my happy salvation was to be able to capture, with my camera companion, the beauty of colours, lights and shapes through my photographic ventures in the new places which my actor’s career could take me to, in fact, as many as I wished. Because of my photographer’s dreams, leaving home and leaving the familiar in Hong Kong are not nightmarish anymore. I can say hello to beautiful scenery and people. Life becomes exciting all over again. My artistic journey consists not only in having new eyes, but of seeking refreshing photographic inspirations which will transform into my creative work.”

Simon took a break and continued, “If I go to a strange place on earth, I shall usually do 3 things: visiting art museums, purchasing some saucy postcards and searching for beautiful old walls which become brownie points in my lonely journey.”

I asked him, “What camera do you use now?” Simon said, “Mostly Canon. I also use iPad. I am learning ‘iPad painting’ which is a cool invention without the trouble of bringing with me drawing board or easel. I can share some with you.”

Simon piqued my interest. I asked, “Did you have frustrating experience about taking pictures?” He was funny, “When things were too beautiful and I did not know how to manipulate them into an expression of art, I felt very confused! For example, some geological formations near Mount Tai, Shandong Province(山東省泰山) are rich in fossils of fascinating shapes dating back to 500,000,000 years ago. The Five Flower Lake(五花海) of Jiuzhaigou(九寨溝) is a multi-coloured lake and its bottom is criss-crossed by ancient fallen tree trunks enriched by bold blue, delicate orange, electric purple and festive green colours. I stood there for a long time and could not figure out what was the best way to depict such wonders.”

I put my final question on the table, “What is the artistic difference of acting and photography?” Simon considered it seriously, “For acting, drama created me. For photography, I created drama. The drama of the former is human and the drama of the latter is visual. Acting is a collaborative exercise while photography is a lonely job. When I act, people capture my moments which I could repeat if they want me to act again. But when I take photos, I capture a moment of other people that can be gone forever and impossible to reproduce.”

Simon Yam is a unique and intriguing man in the film industry. Sometimes he is expressive and sometimes he is quiet. Sometimes he is reactive and sometimes he is shy. He is forever changing. His tender fickleness is a charming quality of a superstar. I always get the funny idea that Simon should record an artistic video selfie of himself—it must be riveting to see how he, under the dual roles of an actor and a photographer, behaves at the same time.

MLee

Simon Yam X FUJIFILM 50R Acknowledgement-FUJIFILM HK https://youtu.be/uTTiMsDdNl8

Simon Yam Interview Acknowledgement-SPH Razor https://youtu.be/a7Fs17ktx2Q

“Sparrow” movie trailer with Simon Yam Acknowledgement-Universe Entertainment Ltd https://youtu.be/gk11k7G0Hl4

Simon Yam Interview Acknowledgement-CNBC International TV https://youtu.be/VO3OoC7ERUw

“Nat Geo Awards” Simon Yam’s sharing Acknowledgement-Nat Geo HK https://youtu.be/Ye07lxgg5fE

#Simon Yam任達華 #Minolta #Canon #Instagram #Photography #Brownie Points #iPad #Stardom #Hollywood Movies #Jiuzhaigou九寨溝 #The Five Flower Lake五花海 #Mount Tai泰山 #Bold Blue #Delicate Orange #Electric Purple #Festive Green

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kanabepark · 4 years

Text

Essay about Wood block printing

It was my first time to do lino cut prints last year at NQ creative course. Since then, I got really interested in carving.

It’s reminded me that I did a couple of wood carving and wood block print at my primary school which I had great time.

I like doing lino cut prints however, my interest goes to wood block print more than that at the moment. For me, it’s quite difficult to choose the right type of wood boards and materials just now because I have just started but I hope the experience will give me an answer for this later on.

I like the smell of woods and their natural warm texture compare with manmade lino.

Woods are much harder to carve and takes longer time but I am quite patient person so, I even really enjoy these difficulties as well.

Wood block print was invented in China around 700AD.

Since then, this carving wood block method had been the most common in East Asia printing method for printing books, texts and pictures. In fact, now I understand why I am quite familiar with wood block print. As I said earlier, I did a wood block print when I was a child and still used Japanese traditional wood curving tools and baren for the art classes ( It`s a disk like hard tool with a flat bottom and a knotted handle used in Japanese wood block printing. It is used to burnish the back of a sheet of paper lifting ink from the block.)

Woodblock prints are a typical type of relief print. It is called woodcut or xylograph because it uses wood as the original plate.

Ukiyo-e prints are well known all over the world. Ukiyo-e prints are not made by one artist. They are basically and traditionally made by three specialists.

A drawing or painting artist who provided the design image, a wood carve technician and a printer.

I think this fact is really interesting because usually one artist does all these works to create artworks in European countries.

Japanese traditional woodblock printing materials are very unique as well.

For example, we have been using a prunus serrulata (cherry species) wood board as the best quality printing block. Recently, we use plywoods because they are much cheaper.

Traditionally, we use a waterbase paint/shuhi-enogu (mud-pigment)and adding a glue as paints. There are also monochrome printing using only black sumie ink.

Washi paper (traditional Japanese paper) has been used for printing. One especially has a strong quality for rubbing method, this paper is called Ko-zo paper (mulberry paper).Also, before we print on this, it’s very important to damp the paper to get a beautiful result then, put special paint on the board by using a special brush not a roller.

Usually we don't use more than one color on a board. To make one multicolor print, the printer has to print between 5 to 30 times using different boards for the colors.

ARTIST RESEARCH

Kiyoshi Saito (1907-1997)

He was a woodblock printing artist from 20th century in Japan.

Mt.Fuji (1980)

Mt. Fuji has long been respected as a mountain of gods in Japan. Therefore, showing it in artwork must be very respetful and formal for Japanese people.

Normally, Mt.Fuji is shown in blue to express it, but because this one was used red, I think he draw Mt. Fuji as seen in the evening. As the expression aka-fuji in Japanese is used, it depicts Mt. Fuji in a particularly beautiful appearance. Belive or not, you can see this red color Mt.Fuji in real life! Also, this red is not vivid color and uses a very warm natural color.

What is interesting is the color of the sky. It is slightly pink compared to the white snow on the top of the mountain. From that, I think this pale color was intentionally used to make Mt. Fuji, which I admire, stand out. The shape of the clouds looks like a dragon is flying. Even in Japan, it feels like a combination of the myth of a dragon. It's a very proud and elegant movement and in the middle of the cloud, there is a gray blackish line in it. This means this cloud has got a soul in it as well.

Looking at the lower part, a black plum tree that has not yet bloomed is drawn. From this, it can be estimated that the season is between the end of winter to the beginning of spring. Do the white branches represent the snow that has fallen? It looks like it's still in cold weather. Also, the black color is smudged on the bottom parts which means the real world is a dark and terrible place to live but the mountain parts are pure and sacred. It could be meaning of mythology in Japan as well.

The most interesting parts of this work is texture.

He used wooden natural organic woodgrain patterns for the body of mountain. I have never seen a print like this before. It is almost saying this artwork belong to nature world. I think this method will be very useful for my next project.

Clare Leighton (1898-1989)

She was an English-American artist best known for her wood engravings.

Watcher Of The Sky (1955)

This work is a mixture of realistic and idealised.

Some people are included and I think they are all professional scientists who try to investigate new facts of the sky.

The mysterious shape in the middle and right hand side shows the science of the sky was so mysterious at that time and these scientists are trying very hard to find out the fact or truth. Also, the swirl shape shows confusion inside their head or the hope for a different world.

The color is black and white so it shows the night time and the white color around people look like showing the furure hope to the people.

The bottom right zig zag lines may explain their excitement feelings and cause waves of their heart to pump or could be the sign of universal movements or vibrations.

I found that this is quite scary because not so detailed about people and they are all looking the same direction. Especially, all faces are the same shape and clothes are the same, kinds of very creepy. Maybe wanted show the scientist does not have feeling and they are only interested in the fact. It looks like all people are men. It shows the time of this era, men had more power and access to the education than women. It is very sad and not fair but it was the truth.

They are quite a lot of abstract shapes in this. It is all belong to the scientic world.

Textures are all over the place so there are no plain bit at all on this work makes me a bit breathless and give me emotional pressure.

I think so clever to show the serious and mysterious emotions at the same time on this.

Even thought this is a woodblock print, shows details a lot. Some lines are really straight and the microscope looks real. She is very good at describing the shapes and works are so neat.

Also, I can see the lots of depth in the work almost like an illusion especially on the spiral.

Jed Henry

He is a woodblock print illustrator.

Pocketing a Wager

The most interesting power which he has got is he can change almost all world famous animations or TV programs scenes to Ukiyoe style illustrations. I have never seen before such cool illustrations before. I can not explain well but something old and new are combined together makes really beautiful attractive artworks.

This artwork is about Pokemon and Sumo wrestling.

I can recognize some of characters from Pokemon. All animals look very different from the show but he turn in to them to real Japanese yokai (monster) looking very well. Also he uses Kanji (Japanese character) it makes this piece like it belong to Japanese traditional culture.

I can see the audience in the background but they are not colored just line drawings. It makes the battle scene more powerful and outstanding.

He uses the Japanese traditional paint colors as well. He must study hard to get to know original Ukiyoe very much otherwise it would not work well.

There are no modern items at all in this work. All clothes are kimono, hats and other accessories are also old style.

There is only one bit I can see the modern is the Pikachu`s thunder lines. It is almost like abstract art there which never seen in original Ukiyoe arts. Because of using white lines it is very pale and not overpowering the rest of work.

He did a signature using the alphabet and also used Japanese stamp and the red color really stands out. (we only use red color for this kinds of stamp) It looks very old style but a lot of Japanese people still using this kinds of stamps. ( I have one as well)

So, it makes me want to use my Japanese stamp as signature in the future it would be very unique.

There is not religion a message on this but definitely showing the Japanese traditional culture.

References

www.takezasa.co.jp. (n.d.). 木版印刷による版画制作工程 -摺師の仕事・役割- | 木版印刷・伝統木版画工房竹笹堂. [online] Available at: https://www.takezasa.co.jp/mokuhan/mokuhan01_3.html [Accessed 8 Mar. 2021].

Wikipedia Contributors (2019). Woodcut. [online] Wikipedia. Available at: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Woodcut. [Accessed 8 Mar. 2021]

武蔵野美術大学造形ファイル. (n.d.). 武蔵野美術大学造形ファイル｜武蔵野美術大学による、美術とデザインの「素材・道具・技法」に関する情報提供サイト. [online] Available at: http://zokeifile.musabi.ac.jp/. [Accessed 9 Mar. 2021]

ukiyoeheroes.com. (n.d.). Ukiyo-e Heroes | Our Story. [online] Available at: https://ukiyoeheroes.com/about-us.php. [Accessed 10 Mar.2021]

‌www.clareleighton.com. (n.d.). Clare Leighton. [online] Available at: https://www.clareleighton.com/ [Accessed 10 Mar. 2021]. ‌

やないづ町立斎藤清美術館. (n.d.). ギャラリー. [online] Available at: https://www.town.yanaizu.fukushima.jp/bijutsu/gallery/ [Accessed 10 Mar. 2021].

‌

#bm _hndcpm1

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najatheangel · 4 years

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hi, love !! i requested a selca ship from you once and i absolutely loved it !! may i request a written ship this time, please? groups would be nct 127, nct dream, and got7 <333

i’m an extroverted introvert. i’m naturally pretty outgoing and social but i also love being by myself and need alone time to recharge. i’m often mistaken as an extrovert in real life because i’m usually the one approaching people first and initiating or planning hang-outs for my friend groups. i’m pretty cheerful, light-hearted, easy-going, and non-judgemental. i strive for balance in life and i generally dislike conflict although i don’t hesitate to deal with it if necessary. i prefer focusing on the present moment rather than dwelling on the past or trying to forecast the future. for this reason, i can easily detach myself from certain people and situations (for better or for worse lmao). i’m a natural caretaker and i prefer to nurture people in more practical ways like being helpful or giving advice, but i don’t mind just being there for other people although a part of me always wishes i could do more. i may be more of a caretaker with my friends but being the youngest in my family, i do lowkey want to be doted on in private. i romanticize being organized and all but i’m really not :’) i TRY though. i’m also dangerously clumsy; i try and want to become more graceful but my coordination says no :)) i do feel things very deeply but i rarely show that. i prefer to deal with my emotions internally and by myself and then express them later in a more measured, rational, and calm way. i’m very independent and freedom of expression is very important to me and i believe everyone should have a right to that. i adore and appreciate all forms of art, especially written words; i love reading and writing. i just love literature. i also really enjoy aesthetically-pleasing things; i love taking aesthetic photos of nature or even people. self-care is also very important to me; i workout regularly, try to eat healthy, and meditate. i also have an immense love for learning and while a lot of topics interest me, i especially love history. i just find it so fascinating and i love it so much that it makes my heart skip a beat sometimes like i get too excited lmao. my mbti is isfp but i’ve also gotten i/enfp and esfp before (years ago lmao 😂)

i think that’s it !! thank you so much <333 i hope you’re well. have a wonderful day/night hehe

Hii faye, I’m happy I got to read more about you you seem like your life is full of joy and balance. The long wait is finally over, here goes your ship☺️🧚‍♂️

From NCT 127, I ship you with...Doyoung

Positive Side: Very beautiful love story from start to finish. During resonance promotions he remembered seeing you in the virtual fansign and even though your conversation was only 2 min, he was in lovestruck mode. He wanted to know more about you as a person and he was willing to try anything and do anything to find you. He found you with your group of friends at his favorite coffee shop and noticed how happy you were helping your friends study for their exams and stood out amongst the group yet at the same time wanted some quiet time alone. It took him a lot of courage, but he bumped into you in line and took his chance to confess and ask you out on the spot. It didn’t take long for you to say yes and the rest was history. Your both very natural when it comes to taking care of people around you which is a very good trait to have, because your both capable of providing to each other’s needs. Those simple acts of love such as feeding each other, helping each other through a problem and supporting each other’s achievements are what you both cherish the most. This man is your main model of study when it comes to taking photos so he won’t mind posing for you or even taking pictures together and changing it as his Home Screen on his phone. No worries about slipping on trying to eat healthy because this man is Gordan Ramsey 2.0 and he will help you keep your workout and diet plan together while you help him with your amazing literature skills how to compose better songs for the group.

Negative Side: Not every relationship is perfectly balanced. You both handle conflict in the same way. You obviously express your moods through your expressions if something is not sitting right with you, but then later would prefer to have a private conversation about the problem with that person. In the beginning when you first started dating, Doyoung wanted to have your back in almost any tough situation you were facing, but thre were times that you didn’t want him to fight your battles all the time to save the trouble. For example, if someone based horribly on your writing, Doyoung would defend you and have your back 100% in the most calm and family friendly way possible. It’s not that you don’t want his support in every situation, it’s just you’d prefer him to let you manage on your own and not add more stress into his life by barging in to your problems.

But...: Doyoung knows that he has to take it down a notch and let you face those haters on your own and barge in if needed. He love when you have his back on things, even with silly debates and fights against the members over who didn’t clean the laundry. Whenever he starts seeing you becoming vulnerable with him, he feels very special and is not afraid to help you heal through your experience. Even though sometimes it’ll seem like your both babying each other and snooping up in each other’s business, it’s better to release your emotions better than hiding it.

faye, get your man plsss...😳😳

From NCT Dream, I ship you with...Jaemin

Positive Side: The ultimate k-drama couple. First of all, your both ambiverts in all your friend groups meaning some days you want to stay behind the scenes other days you both tend to become the star of the show. Very fast you two would develop a friendship and from that point, he already made his mind of making you his one and only. He’s like the mom of Nct Dream taking care of his family, so when he notices how cheerful and light hearted you can be around your family and friends he just melts into a puddle gushing over how adorable you can be. The killer for him is how clumsy you can be. Dropping pans of cookies you just baked or falling in the ice rink when your skating together it just makes him want to protect you and keep you by his side more and more. Jaemin also appreciates your creativity and wants to brag about it to the whole world how talented you are. He’ll always ask you if he can be the first one to read your stories which makes him feel like you hold a special place in heart. He’s also a photographer himself and would be your camera man for when you need photos of yourself or pretty nature images for your Pinterest board. Of course most of the time he would want like 100+ pictures of you and him saved in his phone. Overall your the angel that he’s been waiting for all his life and would do anything to make you stay.

Negative Side: Knowing how charming this beautiful man can be, sometimes his flirting can get out of control. I know it’s just for fan service for the fans to eat up from, but sometimes it can sting a little. Once he was doing a collab stage with a rookie girl group member and they seemed to be pretty playful on stage. It didn’t bother you at first because you understand that this is Jaemin’s job, but it was all until she started to flirt with him and slide her arm on him which started to tick you off. You were pouting from the outside, but on the inside you wanted to go off so you kept your cool until you got home. Of course he tried to cuddle with you and kiss you, but you weren’t having it. He tried to even talk to you in his cute baby tone, but you ended up slamming the door on him and went straight to bed. “It was just a performance princess, nothing more nothing less.” “Try telling that to dispatch when they see you holding hands with that girl.”

But...: Jaemin is aware now that you have feelings to and don’t want to cause all these misunderstandings or else it’ll affect his relationship with you. He knocks softly on your door and carries you out of bed with the sweetest apology proposal with homemade breakfast, balloons with your name in big letters with a heart next to it and a big teddy bear that says I love you. The gesture almost put you to tears and decided that arguing with him over a performance with another woman is pointless to break up over. You give him the biggest smile and give him the tightest hug. “So does that mean you forgive me?” Puckers his lips out cutely begging for a kiss. “Hmmm, sure. Your punishment for now is no kisses for today.” You stuff his mouth with bacon and run off to the living room teasing him. “Ahh I guess I did deserve that huh. At least let me cuddle with you, I didn’t get to do that last night.” Opens his arms running after you in the dorms.

I wanted to ship you with Jeno too, but Jaemin just fit the picture.

From Got7, I ship you with...Jinyoung

Positive Side: The iconic couple in the music industry. You were Jinyoung’s secret girlfriend that no one knew about of course except for the got7 brothers. Your both very flirty yet friendly towards each other which makes everyone wish they had your kind of relationship. Not to mention your visuals together are insane. You both share you knowledge of literature and read on topics that are beneficial amongst yourselfs. Just like you, he’s willing to research on the latest news that’s going on in the world and later have a intellectual discussion on the topic. I can imagine him reaching out for your help on practicing his lines for his movies/dramas and would even try to reenact kiss scenes with you. With him being the gentleman he is, he naturally wants to save you from your clumsy moments. When your tripping on the carpets, forgetting your umbrella on a rainy day or even have hair in front of your face, he’ll become your fixer upper and provide your needs. He doesn’t mind lending you his umbrella, sliding your hair behind your ears and catching you from falling he’s happy to be your anpaman. He’s so understanding of how much you cherish your privacy because he’s not a clingy person himself, but every once in a while he would love to hold hands with you, pat the top of your head and let you know through words how much he adored you.

Negative Side: In the beginning, it was a challenge to have Jinyoung fall in love with you because as I mentioned earlier, he doesn’t seem like a person who would fall in love easily. He first thought of you as his innocent sister that he wants to protect from all harm and would scare away guys that would try to date you. He’s also very savage when it comes to expressing his love to you so it might come out cold, but that’s not his intentions. For example, if you blow his a kiss, he would act like he’s disgusted and flick it away. He actually loves you blowing kisses at him and would want you to keep doing it. He express his love in a different way even though it might not be the best through his actions.

But...: This man is a living poet and very talented in the arts. Once he realized how much he loved you and wanted to make you his girlfriend, he returned your feelings through a song he written, produced and sung along with his members. He even made a music video about it sharing all the pictures you took of you two together with your permission of course and expressed through his song how happy he was to have you apart of his crazy life and that your the only girl on his life that only made him feel this way. It was your favorite gift from him ever since you made it official.

Out of everyone, I ship you with...Doyoung

@starrdustville I know this was super long, but I hope this somewhat made your day/night. Thanks so much for your patience love yaa.✨💗

#submission #kpop ships #written ships #got7 ships #nct dream ships #nct 127 ships #nct 127 #Doyoung #Nct Dream #jaemin #got7 #jinyoung

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joe-england · 5 years

Photo

Working on this last Zebra Girl book is hard. It’s taken a lot of my focus, I haven’t had the motivation to simply make art for months. It’s depressing, but my muse finally perked up when I got the strange urge to do like I never do and draw serious. I’m going to bare my soul here. Okay? I want to be honest. That’s me up there. Notice the baggy jeans, hanging from my belt because I lost weight years ago and I tend to wear old pants that are too big for me now. I’m fairly slender at this point, but I’ve still got a slight spare tire I have yet to shed. See? Well, I may have taken liberties with the ears and such. More to the point, you may know that my brand is “Obsessive Thoughts”. I chose that term as a label because it’s not just a name, it’s a lifestyle. I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, the tendency to… well, to compulsively obsess. And not about important things, usually, but in response to a universe full of gremlins. You feel like you have to do certain things, like it’s necessary to do them, like you’re holding the world together, and dropping the ball will have urgent existential consequences. It’s a persistent source of stress. So I’m going to describe my perspective, and bear in mind that on a conscious level I’m well aware of the inherent nonsense. But I want to get this out into the open. This is what some part of my psyche tells me is happening, if not all the time, then for most of my waking hours: I move through the world surrounded by contaminants. I must constantly be on guard against spiritual infection. I dodge, react, and cleanse myself through tiny rituals performed hundreds of times a day. Nearly every part of my body is involved in a clumsy dance. Repetition of movements is cleansing. I move haltingly as my extremities catch on contact points which demand my instinctive tactile attention. My fingers mostly lead, forced to twitch and touch and straighten and flex, casting towards acceptable directions (I observe the spasms as I type this very sentence, words punctuated by stops and starts as a fingertip lightly taps an extra key, or jerks to the side, or briefly hovers in place, or just wriggles a bit towards empty space, all obeying some ritual I can no longer decipher). Like guns, pointing them in the wrong direction at the wrong moment risks compromising myself since they relay the sickness. They are primary soldiers but also prime targets, and they must hide themselves whenever deviant sights or sounds threaten my purity. Objectionable surfaces must also be avoided, such as pictures of people I don’t like. I have to touch some things. I have to avoid touching others. My feet do their part too, tapping the front boards of stairs as I climb them one by one or intentionally bumping a crevice or some panel around my desk in order to banish the bad mojo running through my system. I scuff the bottoms of my shoes as I walk to insure that the ends of my being make appropriate contact with separate boards of wood or concrete panels, whatever I happen to be walking on at the time. Meanwhile, up top, my head is kept on constant alert, my eyes a busy terminal of positive and negative input and output. Abstract moving imagery tends to be a threat, for If a subversive pattern appears before me I must vibrate my sight by summoning pressure through my skull, defeating its hypnotic effect (and a diminutive voice in me frets even now that I am spilling my secrets to the tired old conspiracy running its tendrils through all electronic devices). Meals are more of the same. If dirty energy ever infects my food with stray data (for instance, if an offending name is uttered while I’m looking at what I’m about to eat) then I must negate the pollution by holding the offending morsel up to my eye and matching its transparent double image against an acceptable surface to banish the corruption before I allow it in my mouth (a technique which also applies to my fingers, and which happens often when I watch the news during meal times, horrid politicians constantly threatening to invade my essence with their ugly souls). Whenever a contaminant aura does slip inside of me then I must cough it lightly out, willing it from my guts and off the tip of my tongue. Noises issued from my throat contribute to regular maintenance, further warding against evil spirits. My nostrils serve a likewise function now and then. Similar duties are assigned to my knees, my toes, my elbows, or whatever piece of skin is ever exposed to undesirable elements and conscripted in my never-ending war with the invisible forces. Beside my shuffling feet, my shadow must also avoid contact with any and all acknowledged threats, including my own dialogue. Any word uttered risks assigning its deleterious quality to any part of me caught in my sight at the time of its mention (spoken or otherwise). This includes the insides of my eyelids, which often disrupts my efforts to sleep at night as I must force them open to expunge toxic names that cross my mind. The campaign extends to inanimate objects, which constantly suffer the touch of my overworked fingers “wiping off” phantom sediment, or which serve as conduits for various energies, or as goal posts which must sometimes be met before an arbitrary time limit has expired (for example, a turning point in a song). This was worse when I was a child, and had to race onto a carpet or couch whenever a toilet began to flush. I thankfully managed to shed some of the more overt habits over time. But it should go without saying that the very inner monologue running through my brain must abide by its own arcane set of rules, because words and names cannot be used carelessly, even in my thoughts. As for that, two particular words have special functions in my mental arsenal: “Not” and “Narf.” “Not” is a mantra, since it is a pure expression of expulsion, and I throw it constantly at negative influences, especially bad imagery or text that gets out of hand. Conversely, “Narf”, a noise coined by a cartoon lab mouse named Pinky, is a safety mechanism, since it means nothing, thereby safely absorbing any malign concept and allowing me to make idle unspoken noise without risk. Both words are subject to distortion as the situation requires, ghosting through the roof of my mouth in various ways, shapes, and forms, a single altered syllable sometimes called into play, expressed through the smallest push of saliva hitting my teeth. “Nt, nt, nt. Tt. Unt.” I could go on. Looking at this stuff, it’s hard to believe that I’ve lived with it my entire life. Typing it out really makes it sound crazy. I don’t want to be insensitive to other people with issues like this, but it’s hard not to have that reaction when I put it into writing and recognize that this is what I’m actually doing all the time. I always knew it was odd, but I always figured that I would grow out of it, and when I didn’t I just tried to mitigate it. And I thought I was doing alright, because it used to seem worse! I beat it back when I was younger, and my ego encouraged me to accept what was left as part of my genius, or something. But looking at all this, I find myself wondering if I didn’t just make it more subtle through complexity. Or maybe it’s only gotten worse with the stress of the past few years. I don’t know. But I want people to know about this. Now I’m not sure why I always tried to keep it to myself. I feel like bringing it out into the open might help, might serve as a spark to finally burn away the web and let it all go. There are definitely people out there who have it worse than I do. Maybe you’re one of them! We all have our crosses to bear. And like I said, I’ve managed to cut some of it off. But now I think it’s time I started fighting it again. God only knows how much of my time I could get back if I wasn’t twiddling my fingers. Hey. Thanks for listening.

-Joe

#self portrait #obsessive compulsive disorder #mental health

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racefortheironthrone · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on House of X #6

The penultimate issue!

While You Slept, the World Changed:

Before I get into the content, let me say that I think Hickman et al. really brought it with their two final issues, which are some of the best of the miniseries.

Showing Hickman’s love of circular storytelling, we flash back to the speech from the very first page of House of X #1, where Xavier announced the formation of Krakoa. The always-frustrating timeline is cleared up a little: Xavier’s speech happened a month ago, although we know from that same issue that work had been going on on Krakoa for “months” before the announcement - more evidence that the schedule was important.

Despite this all of this preparation, Xavier takes a moment before the speech to ask Moira and Magneto to join him for this “leap of faith,” which requires “total commitment.” (Which is interesting, given Namor’s questioning of same.) Moira agrees quickly, but then hangs back and watches, as is her wont (as we’ll see in Powers of X #6).

By contrast, Magneto makes a significant shift from his earlier pledge of unrelenting accountability to burying the hatchet completely (I love how “all the anger at the other’s relentless ideology and unyielding persistence” so perfectly describes both men) and promises his complete support (and possibly more, depending on how you interpret the hand-on-hand-on-shoulder panel) going forward. That’s a big moment for the two of them.

And then we get Xavier’s speech in full, which I’m going to do my best to annotate.

“Humans of the planet Earth...I am the mutant Charles Xavier and I bring you a message of hope. ”

The first thing I’ll note is that we’re already seeing a rather significant change in Xavier’s behavior: for decades, Charles Xavier refused to come out of the closet as a mutant even when asked directly, and only did so in New X-Men when possessed by Cassandra Nova. Here, he’s straightforwardly describing himself as “the mutant Charles Xavier,” putting his group identity before even his name.

Secondly, there’s an interesting tinge of classic sci-fi in the way that Xavier addresses “humans of the planet Earth” - it’s very reminiscent of The Day The Earth Stood Still - and I wonder whether part of this has to do with the so far largely unspoken Krakoan ambition of beating humanity to the Moon, to Mars, and the stars themselves.

“In the coming days, you will learn of several far-reaching pharmaceutical breakthroughs that have been discovered by mutant scientists. These drugs extend human life, heal disease of the mind, and will prevent - or cure - most common maladies. Influenza, Alzheimer’s, ALS, many cancers...gone. Overnight. These drugs will make life on this planet...better. Remarkably so.”

First, this is very much of a part of Hickman’s technocratic futurism from his F.F run, which I have to imagine often leads to a bit of frustration with the editorial mandate not to use super-science to make the world unrecognizable.

At the same time, I’m all the more convinced that the point of this proffer (in addition to buying U.N votes and diplomatic recognition) isn’t to mess with human biology - I think the drugs actually do what’s advertized, rather than mind-controlling people or activating the X-gene - but rather (according to what we learn in Powers of X #6) to dull the drive to achieve post-humanity, solving humanity’s problems but leaving the source out of their hands. This is a theme that featured quite heavily in the finale to Hickman’s Transhuman.

“All this...we have made for you. In the past they would have been a gift. Something freely given by me -- to you -- because I believed it would create harmony between our two peoples. That was my dream -- harmony -- but you have taught me a harsh lesson: that dream was a lie. You see, all I ever wanted was peace between humans and mutants. All I ever wanted was to love you and for you to love us.”

Here’s a great example of how comics can use text and imagery in different ways. Visually, what this page shows us is different levels of humanity: ordinary people in a hospital room, who see Xavier’s speech as a message of hope, the promise of deliverance from disease; a board room full of businessmen who probably see either opportunity or competition, depending on their market position; and a situation room of national security types who represent human power structures that have always viewed mutants as a threat.

At the same time, I think the text is an answer, if not a rebuke, to those fans who’ve been decrying Charles Xavier as acting “out of character” or spinning conspiracy theories about how it’s actually the Maker or the like. This is clearly the same Charles Xavier, who has come to change his mind about his vision of society, because he’s seen how humans have responded over again. (I think it also gets at one of the problems of grounding the X-Men in a “dream” of harmonious co-existence when genre conventions prevent that dream from ever coming to fruition. Especially given how the serial nature of comics leads to repetitions of “anti-mutant hysteria,” it’s not surprising how much of the fandom have shifted to a “Magneto Was Right” perspective.)

“We wanted to save you -- and we did, many times -- but in return, all you did was stand by while evil men killed our children. Over 16 million of them. So there will be no gift...for you have not earned it. We will -- however -- let you pay for it. In return for two things, we will provide you with the means to have a better life. One without pain or suffering and full of hope -- and it will cost you so little.”

Here, instead of constrasts, the text and images are working in concert, with the art giving pointed examples of whom Xavier is referring to - pointing to the Avengers as “stand[ing] by while evil men killed our children” (given that the Avengers tend to specialize in threats to the planet, but have had a decidely mixed record when it comes to threats to mutants specifically, to say nothing of the fallout from the Scarlet Witch’s actions), or the Fantastic Four as having “not earned” his “gifts,” given that the FF haven’t exactly been at the forefront of applying scientific advancement to specifically mutant concerns. Similarly, Doctor Strange was willing to brave the dangers of hell to bring the city of Las Vegas back from the dead, but didn’t do the same for the victims of Genosha.

At the same time, it becomes clear that what Xavier is getting at isn’t just direct complicity in anti-mutant violence, but the broader systemic problems of human apathy towards anti-mutant violence. (Although, to be fair, he’s bringing this up as, essentially, emotional blackmail to justify his economic policies and his political demands.)

On a different topic, it’s interesting that Xavier is offering something of a utopia for humanity - “a better life...without pain or suffering and full of hope” - but may instead be planning to put humanity inside a walled garden where they will be cared for but kept out of mutant-kind’s way.

“First, you must accept the island of Krakoa as the nation-state of all mutants on this planet. We will happily go through the same process as any newly formed nation with the U.N, but there is an expectation that our sovereignty will be recognized. Second, all mutants -- by birth -- can claim Krakoan citizenship. And with that citizenship, we expect a period of amnesty. So that those who have been singled out as criminals -- or punished and imprisoned by humans -- can overcome man’s bias against mutants.”

So here we get Xavier’s main political ask: international recognition of Krakoan sovereignty, mutant citizenship, and amnesty for mutants in prison.

It’s clear from his tone, however, that Krakoa is going through the “same process as any newly formed nation” mostly as a formality, with “an expectation that our sovereignty will be recognized” - both because humanity needs what Xavier is offering and the unspoken fact of mutant power.

One thing that caught my eye is that the citizenship/amnesty isn’t just a one-for-one copy of Israel’s law of return; given the heavy focus on human judicial system’s “bias against mutants,” it also borrows heavily from the 1966 platform of the Black Panther Party, which called for “freedom for all Black men held in federal, state, county and city prisons and jails,” because they had been denied a trial by jury of their peers.

“From this day forward, mutants will be judged by mutant law, not man’s. These are our simple demands, and they are not negotiable. In return for making our lives better, we will do the same for you. And if you find yourselves asking, who are these mutants to think they can dictate terms to us? We are the future. An evolutionary inevitability. The Earth’s true inheritors. You closed your eyes last night believing this world would be yours forever. That was your dream. And like mine...it was a lie. Here is a new truth: while you slept, the world changed.”

Here’s where we get a firm statement of mutant-kind’s manifest destiny, although how accurate a description of “evolutionary inevitability” it might be is up for debate, given what we learn about Moira’s Sixth Life in the next issue. No wonder that Magneto is eating it up, but Moira seems more ambivalent.

One important thing to note: as the art demonstrates, ORCHIS is very much in operation when Xavier makes his announcement. Rather than being a response to a more militant and separatist Krakoa, their motivations are much more driven by eugenic fears of demographic replacement, which is way less defensible.

Quiet Council of Krakoa Infographic:

In the wake of Powers of X #6, we now have to ask ourselves whether the (un-elected, possibly temporary) Quiet Council is, if not a Potemkin government (this would be a bit much, given what they get up to in this issue), but perhaps not the only locus of authority on Krakoa.

In addition to continuing the naturalistic themes of Krakoa, I wonder whether the Autumn/Winter/Spring/Summer designations suggest a kind of rotating chair system for a council in which all are supposedly equal...but who is primus inter pares? Xavier is acting as speaker, setting out the agenda and moving the action along, but he’s not the only voice in the room - a sign that he is sharing power to a significant extent.

So let’s talk about the membership of the Quiet Council:

Autumn: here we have the three ideological leaders whose ideas have led to the formation of Krakoa (although Apocalypse’s contributions are less public), and potentially Moira’s exes (although we never learn whether Moira was romantically involved with Magneto in her Eighth Life).

Winter: is “where we parked all of the problem mutants” other than Magneto. Mostly, this seems to be on the basis of both necessity and “better inside the tent pissing out than outside the tent pissing in.” One question I have is whether Exodus, as someone who used to basically worship Magneto, is a vote that Magneto can count on, since clearly he and Sinister aren’t on the same page, and Mystique is very much on her own.

Spring: here is Emma’s quid-pro-quo, and a recognition that the economic and foreign policy might of the Hellfire Corporation has to be represented within the governing structure of Krakoa. Given the structure (down to the very seating), I have to think that Xavier and Magneto had always planned for the third vote that Emma demanded. It’s also quite notable in later deliberations how limited Sebastian Shaw’s influence is on the Council.

Summer: as we might expect, given who’s extending the invitations, Xavier gives three seats to “my children,” which gives Xavier at least four votes that he can count on - although Ororo, Jean, and Kurt clearly have their own minds and priorities. As the Krakoan national project continues, counting votes will only become more important.

Speaking of which, we can’t forget about Krakoa and Cypher. While not formally one of the twelve, they are nonetheless a powerful influence who have a voice if not a vote on the Council. And ultimately Krakoa’s voice is quite loud, because the whole enterprise cannot happen without its consent.

The Great Captains:

So here we see the division of civilian and military government, with the “great captains..assum[ing] the responsibility of defending the state” during “times of conflict or war.”

The more curious question to me is what counts as a “state-related excursion” - it would seem to cover X-Men missions like the one at Sol’s Forge and at the ORCHIS facility in X-Men #1, but does it mean that Kate Pryde wouldn’t be in charge of her own vessel if Bishop steps on board? Does it cover X-Force clandestine operations, or would plausible deniability be important? Who does X-Force report to?

Cyclops as first among equals makes sense, although it does raise a question of what happens when you have two other captains in the field.

So Bishop makes sense as a head of whatever the name of the agency in charge of resurrection-related investigations is (possibly X-Factor), but I was surprised to see him show up in Marauders #1.

I wonder what Magik’s role as a Captain is supposed to be, especially since it seems she’ll be heading off to space in New Mutants. Down the line, I’m going to guess she’ll be involved in Krakoa’s version of Inferno, but what’s her intended role supposed to be?

Finally, what’s Gorgon’s role as Captain supposed to be.

The First Laws of Our Nation

Before I get into the content of this section, I want to talk about the beautiful panelling here that starts wide, shrinks down to the nine panel grid as the political debate intensifies, and then opens up again once the decision is made.

Similarly, I like the use of the two key symbols: the X of the chairs and the sigil on the ground (secular authority), Krakoa’s face looming over them all like a heart tree (spiritual authority)

Given what we learn in Powers of X #6 about why various council members was chosen, describing three of the four seasons as “family, friends, and allies” is highly ironic.

Sabertooth is removed from watery confinement - which, if Krkaoa can just hold people in water bubbles for an extended period, why isn’t that the punishment used late? - and Kurt sets an appropriately Biblical tone by noting that “our first bit of business is the oldest kind on this planet...judgement.” (Appropriately for Kurt’s themes, the judgement in question also centers on how to punish the first murder in this new land, and ends with exile.) Also, for those of you keeping track of how much Krakoan justice accords with human conceptions of justice, I will point out that Sabertooth comes out of the bubble threatening his judges/jury, which is never a good look for a defendant.

So let’s talk about the trial:

One of the things that jump out to me immediately is that it’s interesting seeing Magneto in the role of an idealist - “this is the establishment of a nation...and I would have it be one of laws.” - whereas Xavier’s acting as the pragmatist, acknowledging that “I cannot say everyone here best represents the ideals of what any society should be based on,” but that they have to do the best with what they’ve got. Ultimately, I think this is a tension at the heart of all national projects.

Meanwhile, we get precisely three speakers in before conflict erupts: Sinister is a camp shit-stirrer who (publicly, anyway) really only partakes in the meeting to poke at Xavier and Exodus. Meanwhile, showing how little bloc voting there will be in the “problem mutant” camp, Exodus goes right for direct threats, prompting Sinister to propose criminalizing “mutant-on-mutant violence” (again, the political resonances here are obvious), not because he believes murder is wrong but because he’s enjoying trolling Exodus.

Showing how much Krakoan technology and the...unique worldviews of the Council members are going to produce new forms of political philosophy, Aopcalypse opposes Sinister’s motion, because he doesn’t think it should be “a crime to kill someone who cannot be killed,” since killing mutants is now a non-lethal way of testing them for social Darwinian worthiness.

This clearly does not track with Storm’s morality, and in a rare moment in HOXPOX where we get to see Jean Grey operating as a forceful political presence, she uses Storm’s interjection to pivot to an appeal to “the highest of ideals” (perhaps aiming her words at Magneto as well as her fellow X-Men) that it should be the “highest crime...killing someone who cannot come back.” (This is more in line with her more recent appearances in X-Men: Red.) Thus, the Second Law of Krakoa is established...without actually taking a vote. It seems that the Council operates on the basis that any proposal not actively objected to becomes law, which I imagine the political scientists out there have some thoughts on.

Before the law passes, Mystique raises the question of self-defense against human aggression (which fits her first X-appearance nicely). Showing how much his earlier views have shifted now that he’s operating in the context of a mutant nation-state, Magneto distinguishes between “murder” and killing “done in defense of a nation,” and while that question is formally tabled, it does suggest an exception for formal armed conflict at least in the founder’s intent.

Supporting my theory that he’s going to be the de-facto Chairman or Speaker, Xavier not only drives the agenda (although he’s not alone in this, Magneto is definitely acting in this capacity), but also makes sure to “call the question,” deciding when proposals become law as long as no one objects.

Another point wrt to the justness of this process: well before he’s found guilty, let alone sentence is passed, Sabertooth threatens murder and cannibalism against his judges...which isn’t a persuasive defense against murder charges (even if he’s just threatening the murder of mutants...which isn’t legal AFAWK, just not as illegal as the murder of humans.)

A nice bit of character work, and another rare rmoment where we see Jean’s power in action, Emma and Jean collaborate to silence Sabertooth’s ranting.

With the Second Law established, and Sabertooth’s trial technically in abeyance, the Council moves on to “any new business.”

As we might expect from a neoliberal robber baron, Sebastian Shaw calls for “property rights, wealth, currency,” to be legislated for next.

In an interesting turn of events, Doug Ramsey interjects that “Krakoa is alive. Not a place, or a biome -- a person.” Krakoan (real) property rights will have to have a decidedly non-capitalist orientation, because as we see further in Marauders #1, in addition to not having rights in the land, you have to ask for Krakoa’s consent in order to build grow a house.

In a development I didn’t see coming, Storm takes the position that that mutants can still own property, but “it has to be...out there...in the world. No one has said we have to run from it.” This is somewhat more capitalist than I might expect from Storm, but it does make sense that someone with her particular entanglements in the wider world would take a less isolationist position. This raises an interesting question: if mutants own property in a sovereign nation, and they decide to plant Habitat flowers on their property, does that make that property now part of Krakoa?

Doug’s position gets supported by Exodus (in a characteristically religious tone), and Xavier once again calls the question, creating the Third Law of Krakoa. For those of us keeping track of the colonial theme, it is interesting that this largely European-led nation state has taken a legal position on land ownership that’s much more associated with indigenous peoples.

Befitting her role as the true power in the Hellfire Trading Company, Emma Frost tables the discussion of economic legislation, due in no small part to it impinging on Krakoan diplomacy and international economic policy.

With a decidely mocking air aimed at her son, Mystique shifts the agenda from the secular to the sacred. After a moment’s thought, Kurt who fires back with the original “manifest destiny” out of Genesis (the first creation), and we get the First Law: “make more mutants.” In addition to continuing the very horny feel of the issue, this law raises a set of interesting questions about Krakoan attitudes with regard to the right to choose, access to family planning services, and sexuality - although as Hickman has pointed out, the implications of an egg-based system for (re)growing people point in completely different directions. Why assume Krakoa will follow human social mores in any area?

With the fundamental laws established, the Quiet Council can now decide how to apply them to Sabertooth:

In an example of how subtly powerful agenda-setting can be, Xavier makes the question of voting guilty or not guilty a question of “making an example...that no one is above mutant law” or “giving you one last chance.” Fitting his somewhat collectivist bent in Powers of X #1, he frames this question not in terms of the civil rights of “Mr. Creed,” but in terms of how the decision “benefits our new society.”

While it doesn’t quite settle the post facto question, Magneto argues that Sabertooth’s killing of the Damage Control guards violatted the “strict instructions” he was given when Magneto dispatched him on the mission, making it not merely a question of the First Law but also of obedience to the chain of command. Apocalypse, who knows something about managing an aggressive workforce, agrees.

Sinister and Exodus, for once, are on the same page, and while Mystique ultimately goes along with the emerging majority, her body posture and dialogue suggests a degree of internal conflict - after all, she was the one leading the mission, so some responsibility falls on her shoulders.

Turning to the X-Men side of the room: as befits his spiritual role, Kurt feels shame for not turning the other cheek, Jean takes a moment but is more assured, and of course Storm has no problem with a bit of divine judgement.

Continuing the trend of divisions among the Hellfire Club, Emma is all about getting rid of Sabertooth, while Sebastian goes along with the emerging consensus because he doesn’t care.

And once again proving that a defendant representing themselves is always a bad idea, before all the votes are in (and we don’t know whether Krakoan juries require a unanimous verdict) or the sentence is given out, Sabertooth threatens familicide of the Quiet Council. Not exactly a strong argument for leniency, since Sabertooth hasn’t exactly been pleading innocence at any point.

Finally, Doug asks Krakoa to bring the hammer down, and Sabertooth is dragged down to hell put into an oubliette. As Xavier explains, “we cannot send you back into the world” (because Sabertooth is a serial killer who can’t restrain himself, and Krakoa just promised the world it would hold mutants accountable for their actions), they won’t jail him because “we tolerate no prisons here” (this seems a technicality), they won’t kill him, because seemingly the “resurection protocols” are non-optional (which is interesting, given what we learn about Destiny in the next issue), and so they “exile him.”

One interesting question: given the resources available to them, why is it necessary to leave him “aware but unable to act on it” rather than have him be unconscious during stasis? My guess is that Xavier wants to motivate Sabertooth to “redeem” himself down the line.

And then finally, we get Xavier’s concluding statement, where I think Hickman’s views on nation-states (“it’s distasteful, I know, this business of running a nation”), the proper attitudes one should have about holding and exercising political power (”I pray we never get used to it...never grow cold from it...never learn to love it”), and even parenthood come through.

Just Look At What We’ve Made:

But in the meantime, the council emerges to what almost everyone has analogized to the Return of the Jedi celebration: not only do we see bonfires and fireworks and a riot of color everywhere, but we see mutants flying around, using their powers, for the first time really feeling that they can live as mutants without fear for their lives.

As the Quiet Council walk down the steps, we see some of the reasons why and the consequences: the Five party as one, but near them we see the formerly dead raising a glass with the living. And echoing Magneto’s earlier statements about how Krakoa will change the way mutants see their own powers, we see Siryn and Dazzler combining their powers for the purposes of culture rather than warfare or high tech.

Xavier’s final message is that the Quiet Council will work like hell to ensure that the next generation of mutants “sleep in soft fields of lush green, staring at the stars and dreaming of a future where they hold those stars in their hands.” Once again, a sign that Krakoa’s manifest destiny lies in space, a common theme of Hickman’s from his FF run. As this happens, we see three of the O5 goofing around (I’m surprised how many people didn’t notice that Bobby had frozen Warren’s drink while he wasn’t looking), and Exodus leading storytime with the children as Sinister watches in the background.

But that’s not what people are really here for - as nice as it is to see Broo and Synch and Skin and Pixie, what people really care about is the Jean/Logan/Scott panel. As the now infamous architectural diagram in X-Men #1 makes very clear, this is not a case of a mere open marriage: the most famous romantic triangle in X-Men history is now a throuple, founded on the principle of beer and tummy rubs.

Almost as exciting for much of the fandom is the next page, where Jean goes to make peace with Emma while Scott hangs out with Alex. One of the big questions going on is what Emma’s role is in the polycule, since she doesn’t seem to be living at the Summer House. My guess is that Emma is “part of it” (to quote David S. Pumpkins), but may only be with Scott, and definitely would refuse point-blank to share communal living quarters with Logan. We will have to wait for more evidence to be sure.

And so we end with Xavier and Magneto looking out over the celebration, taking a moment to feel (rightly?) proud of “what we have made.” And yet, all is not well, because Apocalypse, the third ideological force who (through Moira) helped to create Krakoa, broods on what he lost when Krakoa was born.

Krakoa Infographic:

With Krakoa now extant as a nation-state, we get one more infographic...that shows us that there is a Krakoa Atlantic to go along with Krakoa Pacific. This points to an important truth about this new polity - it would be a mistake to see Krakoa as an island nation like Genosha or Utopia, because the nation of Krakoa exists wherever the physical entity of Krakoa exists. It’s in the Pacific and the Atlantic, it’s on the moon, it’s on Mars, it’s everywhere a Krakoan flower has been planted. Which makes it a post-geographic power.

So what’s on Krakoa Atlantic?

The Pointe is one of Xavier’s Cerebro back-up locations, so that an attack on Krakoa Pacific won’t destroy the database.

Danger Island is the X-Men’s new and expanded training facility.

Transit allows for instant transportation between Pacific and Atlantic to allow the X-Men to respond to a threat to either island or cradle, and possibly a final keep to fall back to if everything else is lost.

And finally we get one last map of Krakoa (All), and there’s a lot we don’t know about these locations:

The House of X and the House of M are Xavier and Magneto’s residences, and the location of one of the Cerebro “cradles.”

The Arbor Magna is the big tree where the Resurrection system is located in/on.

The Arena we don’t know anything about, but from the name it suggests that it’s a combat-oriented location, either for training or for entertainment purposes.

The Akademos Habitat is almost certainly Krakoa’s educational facility that Jean mentions back in House of X #1, but the fact that it’s a Habitat is interesting, because a Krakoan Habitat is a ”self-sutained environment” of its own that is “part of the interconnected consciousness of Krakoa,” and I had thought that having a Habitat on Krakoa itself, as opposed to one out on the moon or Mars would be redundant. My guess is that this is meant to provide an additional layer of safety to the next generation of mutants.

We saw Transit back in House of X #1, this Transit location is the Grand Central Station for Greater Krakoa, linking all gateway locations together. Yet another sign that, for Krakoa, their nation has a different conception of distance.

The Oracle is, I would guess, probably one of the Krakoan Systems, most likely either Sage’s or Beast’s part of the system.

I don’t know what the Grove is supposed to be, but given its proximity to the Akademos Habitat, I think it’s supposed to be a living space, possibly just for the young and possibly not.

The Cradle, it turns out, is just a cradle.

The Resevoir could be that lagoon we saw back in House of X #1, which would make sense if the Wild Hunt is a nature preserve, because animals love to congregate at watering holes.

The Carousel’s name suggests it’s an entertainment facility.

We know what Bar Sinister is from its last appearance; it turns out that Sinister recreated his little island Edwardian eugenics nightclub on Krakoa. Interesting that it’s locsated so close to Transit; maybe Sinister wants to be able to make a quick getaway.

Speaking of the fruits of faustian bargains, it turns out that the quid-pro-quo for becoming the economic engine of a nation is that the Hellfire Trading Company gets a whole Hellfire Bay to itself as its headquarters.

Red Keep is almost certainly Kate Pryde’s new pad, which is conveniently ocean-ajacent for our newest mutant pirate privateer queen.

Blackstone is Sebastian Shaw’s Gilded Age “gentleman’s” club.

The White Palace is naturally Emma’s boudoir, complete with buzzsaws and spikes.

The unnamed location 18 is clearly Moira’s No-Space.

#xmen #xmen meta #house of x #spoilers #hoxpox

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