#its been coldplay hours what can i say....

[faarkas]

SONG SHUFFLE TAG

i was tagged by @corvosattano and @cptcassian (TY BESTIES WITH GOOD MUSIC TASTE) to take my playlist, put it on shuffle, and share the first 10 songs. i’ll also be using my on repeat from spotify.

no pressure tagging @okkoutsu @leefi @jackiesarch @imperial-agent @barbecutie @ugh-my-back @vvanessaives @tethris @yharnams @ortanthaig @geniichiro @virmire and @clericofilmater !

magic - coldplay

shy - saint blonde

WET DREAMS (sped up) - odetari, nimstarr

SAY LESS - MAX, duckwrth

nostalgia - suki waterhouse

HISS - megan thee stallion

good people - mumford & sons, pharrell williams

go up - gizzle

black friday (mahogany session) - tom odell

dangerously in love - beyonce

bonus: STRINGS - MAX, JVKE, bazzi

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

That's my girl

John Dory x reader part 2/2

Summary: John Dory shows up out of nowhere (again), but with that he brings trouble, the trouble of the mind and the heart.

Words: 2582

Warnings: too much fluff, it hurts- also still no color coding cuz I'm lazy and when I'm writing this its almost midnight.

A/N: welp, this is longer than my usual. Yeah this is part 2 to a thing that honestly wasn't supposed to be in parts, but new years was banging so you know I had to. Little Thing, if the caterpillar snail confuses you, imagine a motor bike, I tried to word it better: but some things are just not made to make sense. Aso don't judge the gif choice man, desperate times come for desperate measures. I forgot to add tags again 😔

Previous

➷➹➷

For a while, you kept your distance again. Wondering how this all happened. How everything went downhill for you so fast. Now that you have the house to yourself you now have a lot of dead air to think about. (Your dad’s not dead, he just wanted to seek a path in white water rafting. Whatever that means.)

You silently read an old scrapbook, it was your favorite genre and you loved just sitting down and getting to the end. Especially on rainy days like these. Right as you got to the climax there was a knock on the door. Admittedly you aggressively rolled your eyes.

You closed the book and set it aside, who's knocking at this hour? Right before midnight? Your book needs reading! your fish needs walking! You don’t have a fish, you're just irritated, you can’t read your book. As you closed in on the door you stopped. What if it’s an intruder? Or worse, a monster who suddenly gained the sentience to knock! You would never know until-

“Buttercup?” John Dory’s voice shakes through the door, There’s faster knocking. “It's cold out here!”

You've never opened a door so fast in your life.

As soon as John made it inside you glared hard at him. You wanted to scold him but your silent anger was getting nowhere. He was too busy admiring the inside of your home. Then his eyes landed on you.

You breathed heavily, walking over to grab your book and then walking back to him. He gave you the same dumb, doe-eyed look he always does when he's gotten himself in a bit of trouble. You gently slapped the book on his stomach then walked to put it on the shelf. His quiet shocked laugh brought you back to the center.

You pointed for him to sit and quickly made him some hot cocoa perfect for the season. You walked over and sat next to him. Handing him the glass. “Thanks Buttercup. You mean the world to me.” He chugged the hot cocoa, just fast enough to not catch the break in your calmness traded for bashfulness.

When you calm back down, you cross your arms. Your nose flaring and your lip pouting. John looks you in the eyes, his lips pursing as he thought about a good response. “Can you blame me? You have me wrapped around your finger.” He says playfully.

Your eyebrow raises. You don’t flinch or retreat. You narrow your eyes at him. His grin falls as he catches your unwavering worry. “I uh. I just missed you. It’s been a week and I wanted to see you. At least once.” When you didn’t accept that as an answer he got a little frustrated. “I know that isn't a good excuse but what do you want from me? To let the one person I've had close in years just drop out like that?”

Your other eyebrow raised, silently asking if he was okay. Then in a moment you caught his cockiness slip. That's when you knew something was wrong. You leaned forward and looked into his eyes ruffling his hair to gain his attention. His eyes met yours and it didn't take him long to pull out a vinyl. “It's the only way I could talk about my feelings to you without being a coward.” he blushed deeply. You cock your eyebrow again then roll your eyes. You stood up and went to put it on your record player.

(feel free to listen then move on or not listen at all)

As the song plays, you listen to the lyrics, your back to John as you listen to the words. His soft voice played on the track and you could almost hear the sweat dripping from his forehead. You were too focused on the lyrics to even look at him.

Your skin, oh, yeah, your skin and bones.

Turn into something beautiful

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so.

Then it clicked. This wasn't him just showing you a brozone song. No, no heaven knows you listened to Brozone’s music and it's nothing like this. This is gentle and soft. Not throw yourself into a dance song, but that's what you wanted to do. Take his hand and gently dance with him.

However, when you realize that's wanted, the song is already over. You took a while to realize it, but what had transpired wasn't platonic. Not anymore. It was the bridge that led two ways. You just had to figure out which was which.

“Yeah-” John’s voice cuts you free from your mind. “It's not much, it's kind of rushed. Is that weird? That you were gone for a week and I realized I…I can't even say it out loud. I'm…interested. In you. I wanted to see if you wanted to see where this was going.”

You turn around finally, your hand covering your mouth and your otheraying across your stomach. You wondered how you probably looked crazy, but you didn't care. At least not until he pointed out what should have been obvious. You were crying.

“Buttercup! I didn't mean, oh shoot I didn't think that I'd- I'm sorry I take it back!” He gently began panicking. The pacing panic. You wiped your face and looked at your hands, sure enough you were crying. You shook your head, unsure how to tell him that you were okay, just moved by the fact he'd write a song for you.

He took that as rejection and frowned. “Yeah. Yeah. I get it. It's okay. I understand.” he was about to turn around when you grabbed his arm. Damning your inability to speak. You looked around for a piece of pen and paper. However, there was nothing. (you were not writing in your precious book.)

You were scrambling, trying to communicate, but you were only tearing up and crying more. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. Your eyes watery and your nose red and puffy. He looked away then looked at you. “I am so confused right now.” JD squeezed your hand in return.

You did the unexpected. In a fit of confused, misguided, and intolerant anger. You grabbed his face and kissed him. Right then and there. When you pulled away your eyes were wide and so were his. You were about to move away when he just pulled you back in for another kiss.

The second kiss is more sweet and dedicated than the first, your hands moving to gently press into his chest. His hands gently held your head and waist as if you were to fall. It made you feel safe.

Then you both pulled away relaxing into your spots across from each other and your face turned beet red again. How dare he need that good of a kisser? you were just proving a point and now you're the one wrapped around his finger. You try to look away but with his hand snugly holding your head, you couldn't physically do so.

In silence, John Dory’s smile grew from a smirk to a dopey grin. You felt a wave of embarrassment pass through you. “Sweet mother of all things Trolly! You never cease to surprise me Buttercup!” he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, spinning you around as you giggled very softly again. He then pulled you in for a hug. “I'm glad you feel the same. You don't know how much it means to me.”

You guys stayed in a hug for a while. He was holding you so tight that it felt like he'd never let go, ever. Then you got an idea. You pulled away first, and that admittedly made him confused. You walked to the record player and played his song again. Offering him your hand.

He laughed, grabbing your hand and pulling you in for a dance. Not a fast dance, just a slow dance, A comfortable dance. Youve never felt so warm and cozy in your life. Maybe your book can wait for a few more hours. You're not in a rush.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

For the next few years you would have a casual relationship. To the point where no one inherently knew you were dating until John would make some sweet comment about you with your back turned.

As you rode gently into your 30s John was right there beside you. Celebrating each birthday, bigger than the last. You were grateful you got stuck with a guy like John, every day was like a gossip story and he'd tell you every fact about Brozone there ever was. You soon became the team’s number-one fan.

That was, until the unexpected happened. John Dory received a message from his brother that he was in danger. Locked in a diamond prison that only the perfect family harmony could save him from.

“So I have to find my brothers, then save Floyd.” He’d proclaim to you. You raised an eyebrow as you picked up his mess in the bus, he'd probably be taking it and if there were any guests you'd want them to be comfortable. “You know…” he turned around to greet you, walking to throw the trash in the bin outside.

You gave him a look, you knew what he was going to say. “You could come with me, meet my brothers? Join in on the adventure?” he’d ask before you shook your head. You gestured outside and then walked up to him to gently kiss his cheek. “Yeah, I get it, but you're still meeting my brothers, I don't know what I'll have to do for that to happen but you will.” he kissed your forehead and got behind the wheel. You let him know you love him then walk out of his bus to not wait any longer.

You walk to the front of the bus and pet the armadillo before stepping back, and waving goodbye. As he left a pit rolled up in your stomach. A worry pit. You felt like you should've gone with him, but you'd only slow him down. So you went inside. Deciding its a good time to catch up on some reading.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

You learned to live with the pit after a while, you used a small messenger creature to send little I love you notes, but you haven't gotten anything in return. It made it worse, and then right as it neared sundown on the second day he was gone, you had had enough. You walked outside. Going to the corner to pull something out of your sleeve that he’d never expect.

⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠⏡⏠

After the show, John was laughing backstage at something Clay said, holding his stomach as him and his brothers all laughed in unison. He was the first to stop laughing, and when he did. He saw his entire family. Laughing together as if it were the holidays. Which is around a troll’s happiest time.

All that was missing was…

JD’s eyes shot up and he placed a hand on your forehead. “Oh shoot, Buttercup! Oh geez-” he looked up dusting himself and pulling his jacket more clothed and preparing to leave when Bruce chimes in.

“Where are you headed, John?” He’d ask. His voice laced with familiar suspicion. The entire room looks at him, as if awaiting the incredible response he'd spew out now. John stuttered quietly. Then leaned on a wall next to him.

“I have a misses I have to get home to thank you very much.”

There was silent, for a whole minute straight until laughter amongst the brothers (except Floyd honestly) rang out. Everyone's eyes briefly snapped to them. Viva slapped Clay’s arm and he went quiet for a second only to start dying laughing again. Branch wiped a tear and crossed his arms. “You? You have a “misses”? you're just full of surprises.”

JD laughs softly, confused, his brothers are laughing “I'm serious, they're perfect. I want you all to meet them so badly, but they stayed to take care of things there.” He crosses his arms tight over his chest, deciding to just smile through the pain.

JD ignored all the mindless snorts and chuckles after that comment, or tried to anyway. He shook his head “ you'll see, I'll introduce them to you guys and I'm gonna be laughing at you guys!” He walks out to the stage to head home that way.

He grumbled slightly, angry that his brothers would doubt him, but could you blame them? They are brothers after all. he's not grumbling for long because the sound of a growling animal snaps him out of his thoughts. Within an instant, something shoots from the dark, surrounding him in a dirt cloud and the sound of a creature going “meeeeeeeeh” like a motorcycle.

John screamed, a comically loud scream. That attracted everyone inside. They all rushed out only to see the scene unfolding before them. “Hey!” Branch was the first to yell. “Leave our brother alone!” the others banded together and got into fighting poses until everything stopped.

The loud noises, fast movements, and it was just silence for ten seconds until emerging from the cloud was a figure with bucket helmet, and sunglasses over the front. The creature they were riding on was some sort of caterpillar snail, similar to a motorbike.

John looked up at the figure and grinned awkwardly. When the person takes off their mask he gasps louder than he's ever gasped before “BUTTERCUP!” He shoots up. Wrapping you in his arms and lifting you high into the air.

You giggle and wrap your arms around his head until he puts you down. You take off your shades and swing your hair a little bit to get rid of the helmet shape. He was so excited to see you he could explode. “You gave me a good scare, I'm sorry I didn't go home right after saving Floyd I just had to catch up with everyone and do a show with them one last time, you had to see the show, in fact, I think someone recorded it, I'll get that to you as fast as possible!”

“Who is that?” Clay asked, a bit too accusingly. You blush and hide behind JD in fear. He crackles and pushes you forward.

He holds you tight as he introduces you by name. “They are my buttercup, my everything. The one who kept me afloat during all my turmoil. The one who-” You slap him in his arm, causing him to laugh. You bow your head to greet them.

Then you all gather around to talk, enjoying meeting the brothers for the first time. Branch is just the definition of sweet and sour, his girlfriend is the whole package everything you'd want in a party planner honestly. Floyd was the perfect sweetheart and Clay was fun to watch with his small misadventures with Viva. Bruce was definitely the one who talked to you the most, asking you genuine questions about why the hell John dory of all people. You answered as modestly as possible, not having an answer at that moment.

Then you caught sight of John wallflowering. You frowned and walked over, leaning on the same wall he was. He smiled at you, his gaze lingering oh yours for a minute before he kissed your cheek gently. You raised a brow. He laughed softly. “That's my girl.” he’d say before wrapping an arm around you lovingly.

End

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Ghost x Soap

Ghost finds Soap sitting by himself during a party.

Extreme fluff, slight Hurt/Comfort, Somewhat of a First Kiss, Pre-Established Feelings, Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Banter, Soft, Romance, Drabble

WC: 1.3k~

Author's Note: I want to write more for Ghost x Soap, but I admit they're challenging to convey in a way I like. I hope this doesn't feel OOC or like a bunch of nothing; I'm still practicing, but please enjoy! ´･ᴗ･`

Masterlist

Ghost found Soap sitting to himself on the back patio; it wasn't like him to be the one to go missing during a get-together.

He'd been outside for nearly half an hour now, alone, with only the setting sun and the warm summer air to keep him company. His body all but molded to his lawn chair as he lounged, head rested back to count the clouds. Laughter and music from inside played muffled between the glass door and the outside world around him, and it had been enough for him not to feel so alone with its transparent presence.

Soap turns upon hearing the back door slide open, and smiles when his oceanic blue eyes find the dark browns of his lieutenant, raising up in his seat as though he'd just been called upon. Johnny always tended to pep up just a little more anytime Ghost was near. It seemed like everyone noticed this but Johnny, in fact, Ghost included. Ghost especially.

"L.T.!" He greets the man as though it'd not been a few minutes ago that he'd just seen him. That time apart may as well have been days, according to the Sergeant; time often dulls without his superior around. "Something wrong?"

Naturally, Soap hadn't expected his teammate to be out here for no reason whatsoever. Ghost never was a man to move without meaning, a fact which often extended beyond work. However, when Soap sees the sudden awkwardness slip out from Ghost upon hearing his question, it excites the young Scotsman.

"Couldn't find you," Ghost says, his voice doing its best to say as much without the words coming out as frail as they felt on his tongue, having spent the last five minutes looking for the man like a lost child. "Thought you up and left."

Soqap starts to grin like an idiot, and Ghost knows already he's said too much. At that point, he hadn't needed to hear what the man had to say in reply; he was sure it was already one Ghost's heard before.

"Come lookin' for me then, aye L.T.?" the Sergeant teases. "You goin' soft on me now, big guy?"

"Not in the slightest," Ghost says plainly.

Soap merely chuckles, letting his large arms fold over his chest as he's rested his head back against the lawn chair. He'll take his small victories where he can get them; Ghost never made them easy to earn.

"It's OK if you were," he teases, his tongue twisting along with his accent in ways that Simon couldn't help but follow along to eagerly. "You don't have to say it, mate. Besides, I'd say goodbye first, you know that."

Ghost rolls his eyes, though he soon pulls a chair over for himself and sets it right next to Soap shortly after, not having needed much of an excuse to join him. Even Ghost had felt as though these get-togethers grow tiresome without the Sergeant's presence. It makes time move at a snail's pace.

To answer Soap's question from before he'd sat down, the lieutenant then presented to the Sergeant a half-finished cup of Sprite and Tequila he'd mixed in a red solo cup earlier.

"You left your drink."

Soap gives Ghost a rather shy grin before taking his drink, promptly taking a sip once the cup graced his hand again. "I knew you cared, Ghost."

Though he sighs to himself, Ghost's body buzzed with excitement. Had it been Johnny's words that had been the culprit, or that larger-than-life smile he gave him after the fact?

He knows he'll start staring again if he ponders the question for too long, so instead, he makes himself comfortable in his chair, having settled with joining Soap's former gaze above the clouds, which grew more and more seldom with the setting sun.

Ghost has already helped himself to a cigarette two minutes into the silence, a natural course of events that happens whenever the man has more than two minutes to himself outside.

Being in the comfort of close friends in a private setting, he'd forgone his mask, happy to not have to fumble around with it tonight each time he took a sip from his drink or went to eat something. The others still seemed to gawk at him every now and then, as though they'd never seen a man before him, but Simon found it a fair tradeoff all the same. One day their heads will turn in ways like with every other. And for the first time in a long time, he'd been OK with allowing that change to come, however slowly.

No doubt Soap always enjoyed seeing the face of his superior, this man he's grown such an uncanny attachment to, yet it couldn't be more natural. He enjoyed watching the way the muscles in his jaw flexed and moved, his scarred lips pursed over a cigarette, and dark eyes hooded as he hunched over to light the end. Once done, his eyes close, taking in the nicotine, before sinking back into his chair with a dramatic huff, releasing the smoke back into the atmosphere around him.

Soap always knew Ghost to be a rather animated individual, even with his mask. Without it, that fact was indisputable, and the Sergeant couldn't get enough of it.

"You know," Soap only continues. "If you wanted to come out and sit with me, you didn't need to use the drink as an excuse."

"Is that what this is?" Ghost asks sarcastically. "An excuse to come look for you, Johnny?"

"I hope so."

Soap smiles, and Ghost wonders if the man can see every witty comeback he had lined up for him give way to something far softer. He doubts the Sergeant even planned that line; he always did just say whatever came to mind.

Ghost settles back in his chair, letting his eyes following the passing crows. He huffs some more of his cigarette, they always did relax him, even more so with Soap. Always with Soap.

"I wouldn't need an excuse, Johnny."

A rough hand slides itself over Ghost's battered knuckles softly, as fingers gently entangled themselves between his own. The man's gaze looks over almost hesitantly, his heart caught like a lump in his throat when he immediately meets his Sergeant's endearing stare, with a smile that didn't need to speak of how he felt. It spoke for itself.

Ghost let out a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding; always being left at the edge of his seat with these encounters, even with the smallest of actions. A smile forms as quickly as the breath leaves him, his hand settling in Soap's and taking better hold.

As though to leave him with little time to recover, Soap then gently brings the man's hand up to his lips, feeling his breath feather over him, before being replaced by equally light kisses, one to each knuckle.

Soap wanted to kiss his skin, kiss all the scars, all the grooves and marks the world has littered his body with. If his lips could make them no longer matter, being but the skin he wished to hold closely to himself, then Soap would kiss every inch of his knuckles if allowed to continue.

Once he's felt his lips graze his skin, however, Ghost can't help but yearn for more. He lets his callous palm curve over the scruff of Soap's facial hair, cupping the man's well-defined jawline as though he'd never have the chance to do so again. For Simon, he knew all too well how true a reality that could be, and it's made him cherish these moments as they come.

Ghost lets himself lean over his chair, as awkward as it had been, given his sheer size, before bringing his lips over, until they've found the soft mouth that had been Soap's. He kisses him slowly, tasting the blend of tequila and nicotine on their tongues as they gently lapped at one another. Both men feeling just as they've always daydreamed of on their loneliest of nights.

Soap then jolts suddenly, before chuckling against Ghost's lips, pulling back lightly. "You just spilled my drink, mate."

Ghost looks down, seeing the spilled mess he'd now made in Johnny's lap, a small pool now having formed over his jeans. He merely chuckles to himself, before letting his eyes luridly lift back to him.

"Looks like you'll just have to take them off now," he purrs.

Soap lets his hand rest against Ghost's neck, before leaning forward to plant another quick kiss on his lips. He let his other hand run over the man's chest, sliding down greedily, before stopping just short of his waistline. "Was this your plan all along?" he asks.

Ghost smiles, a playful glint lighting in his eyes. "I've no idea what you're talking about, Johnny."

Thank you so much for reading this, it truly means a lot to me. Lately, I've felt in a bit of a funk with my writing, but I'm hoping to write more soon and get back into it.

A while back I did a poll for a Soap x Ghost x Roach thriller/horror fic. I've been working on the outline and it's coming a long way. But alas, I want to improve at writing Ghostsoap before tackling that behemoth.

Feedback would be absolutely appreciated and welcome, however, I'm just happy if you enjoyed what you read 🙂 if you didn't, tell me what I could do better please, I'm serious 😭

Thanks for reading! ｡^‿^｡

[leoramage]

Tagged by @charlosgoggles, I was pretty busy and kind of late when I saw the post! I immediately sat down once I had my free time to do this. Thank you for the tag my co-F1 astrology bestie in this app!

name: Leora Mage is actually an anagram of my real name! i am currently using it as a penname and stage name!

sign: my big three is leo-gemini-pisces!

time: its apparently 6:47 p.m. when i started writing this down. 9 p.m. when i finished (i had duties to attend to.)

favourite band/artist: i am the music bestie that listens to anything. you can't pin me down and tell me to list my favorite artists/band! ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ anyways here's the following:

solo artists: taylor swift, lana del rey, rihanna, doja cat, britney spears, ariana grande, olivia rodrigo, beyoncé, jennifer lopez, madonna, lady gaga, ava max, camila cabello, qveen herby

bands/groups: in this moment, ghost, the great discord, the neighborhood, the chainsmokers, little mix, blackpink, 2ne1, exo, bigbang, coldplay

bonus: i listen to classical music too (tchaikovsky, mozart, beethoven, etc.)

last movie: burlesque (as in christina aguilera) and house of gucci! i watched it for like a whole bus trip.

last show: house of the dragon! i love rewatching because of sir harwin strong & aemond targaryen!

also drive to survive as well, i was finding the episode fernando was in because i told my mom a local artist here in my country has physical similarities to fernando hahahaha

when I created this blog: i created this blog last year's ummer - solely for my practice, learn knowledge from other practitioners about my craft. i happen to love astrology too so it kind of stuck with me and my theme! i am continuously learning and mastering my craft but at the same time explore more.

other blogs: i have another tumblr blog but i forgotten what was the username but i do believe that i made that blog for roleplaying and posting my photo manipulation for a fandom i used to be in.

do I get asks: not until belle and becca sent me a game! i passed them on to my favorite writers and some to my moot blogs. i was supposed to send one to @charlosgoggles but they do not have their ask on lmfao

followers: 20 blogs are following me. most of them are my moots for sure or bots. idk, i did not check who is following me. i do not check who is following me to be fair (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)

average hours of sleep: 5-6 hours but sometimes longer. i work harder than i sleep.

instruments: guitar, ukelele, piano keyboard, violin. i only have a guitar and keyboard with me and i haven't touched them for ages. i learned how to play the other instruments because of my acquaintances who are passionate about music or simply band members.

what I am wearing: black maxi dress that i made myself!

dream job: i do believe i can be who i wanted to be if i put effort in it. so basically i do not have a dream job.

dream trip: world tour (my work requires a lot of that and isolation from the world. so it's quite a tough journey considering the rough waves of the ocean but anything for the bag of moneh)

favorite song atm: uh i do not have a favorite song at the moment. but i listen to subliminals a lot because they just calm my mind (my brain is so active that i need to decelerate it from thinking about the most obnoxious things) but let me check my most played in spotify... okay it says:

dance the night - dua lipa

tagging: @folkloresthings , @lorarri , @love-belle / @love-bellee , @goldsainz and @opheliaas-stuff because you guys are the sweet ones i had been interacting with for the past few days. i love them sm ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]ฅ

(p.s. feel free to do in your own comfort 𔘓 much love guys 🤍🩷💕)

[a-spell-a-rebel-yell]

December

hello everyone, i know it's already day 23 of January 2024, literal almost a month after the month ends and is already on another year, but at least i'm here yaaay (i really need to start writing the monthly post a week before said month ends 😭)

December was actually, just as thrilling cliff-hanging as November! thing is my countdown to my other coldplay show was finally down to under 50 days and it was also the end of the very first semester.

just in the true fashion of my life, my adventure this time is: going back and forth between Jakarta and Tasik in under 24 hours (22 hours to be exact!) on a back-to-back journey just for school and seeing my hometown again 😂

so, as you can tell, i have so many assignments and one of them is a practical skill's lab project where i have a typodont (a phantom model of human teeth embedded in wax) and i pretend to apply orthodontic treatment on it to correct the malocclusion. it was not easy at all. it's quite literally a simulation of what will happen and what should i do when i treat an actual patient. the project lasted for almost five months and even the class didn't stop once the semester break came around, that is why i had to go back and forth between Jakarta and Tasik: i don't want to lose my holidays while still having to attend the weekly class 😂

some will say i'm insane because it's so tiring to do so and indeed it was super exhausting. but if you know me, i'm the type to do just about anything for my loved ones (my parents were staying at Tasik to take care of things and it's been a while i visited my grandparents' last resting place) so it was no big deal at all to endure 7 hours of bus trip each and then 1 hour commute to the station/home. a total 16 hours in 48 hours timeframe spent on the road. and it's worth it, every second of it, because i got to relax and work in the middle of lush green and rice fields... it was the very definition of healing time. i was still under the pressure of stress and deadline to finish that last project, but at least i did it while being surrounded by serene nature and with my mum and dad 😂😂😂 it's such a nice drastic change to do wire bending with all my pliers and stainless steel wires and orthodontic brackets with herd of ducks quacking loudly near me and farmers ploughing soil to plant rice seeds... best part? zero pollution! no light/sound/air pollution whatsoever and i get to see amazing sceneries right out of my windows every day! rain every evening to help me and my mum water the plants (which are thriving!) Mt Galunggung in its majestic full view... woah. it's my best treasure tbh nothing else compares

the most unexpected thing was that our class for that subject/project is usually scheduled on Thursday (so for the first back-and-forth journey i made sure to go back to Jakarta on Wednesday and get back to Tasik on Thursday right after the class ended) and for the second week, my prof suddenly requested us to come to the campus on Tuesday, and guess when did he sent the message to inform us? 6 AM on said Tuesday!!!!! oh you couldn't imagine my panic, how am i supposed to be in Jakarta in less than 4 hours!? thankfully my prof is a lenient one and he let me and kak Mandy (who was in Bandung at the time) to join the class from zoom. another good news is that class is to be our closing session for the project, and that i can just send my typodont instead of coming in person to submit the assignment. yet again Allah's plan is always better than my most carefully thought of one 🥺

the rest of the break i get to spend every day at my hometown just recharging my energy and soaking every positive molecule there is, and my mum have this brilliant idea to buy a table tennis equipment!

at first, not fully knowing the impact of my mum's seemingly random decision, i opposed the buying of said table tennis because it's quite expensive. but after it arrived and i got to play against my mum and dad (who happen to be great players!) i finally understand that my mum knew fully well i don't like outdoor sports (solely because i hate the sun getting my face so red lol) so table tennis is the best option! it's so fun to play and i still get to exert my whole body to get that exercising regime my nutritionist has told me years to do so 😂

for new year's eve, the end of 2023 is the quietest one yet. with just my parents, deep in the greens, miles from the city, and just watching Pengabdi Setan 2/Satan's Slaves 2 (exactly my style hahaha getting my dad to watch it!) i moved over to 2024. just saying and sending out my prayers to welcome the new year and hope i can go through whatever i must face in the future. and again, just how i like it, not many fireworks were blasted so it wasn't that rowdy. it almost didn't feel like NYE celebration, all is calm and cool.

i love slow living, far away from the crowded areas, i could quite literally stay in my hometown at my house and just. be there 😂 it's so easy for me because as long as i have my loved ones with me and a roof above my head, enough to live and get by... that is all. to reach that tranquility and peace of mind is one of the highest priority/goal for me. hope one day after i've accomplished my dreams i get to reside and rest where my heart has always been dwelling.

here's to another journey in 2024, i hope we can together make it through. see you in the January post, that as i said in my Nov one, i'm counting down 3 days to my trip to Singapore and 4 days until i see coldplay again, historic moment as i'll be back to the stadium where i first saw the band 7 years ago!!! see you all soon 💙

[emmythespacecowgirl]

Hi! Would it be possible if I could please get a ship match for the Pacific please? Here’s some info about me.

I’m a bisexual woman (I have a preference for men), my pronouns are she/her. I have curly red hair, blue eyes, and am 5’5”. I’m currently studying history and absolutely love it. Generally speaking I’m funny, kind, empathetic, curious, and creative. Generally I’m introverted, but I can be social. I can get very anxious and have PTSD sometimes, mainly about my health (I had a major scare with my brain last year, so now I can get overwhelmed quite easily). I’m still healing from that event and am usually in some form of pain. In my free time I like to watch tv shows/YouTube, crochet, baking, research historical events, listen to music, reading, and play video games. I’m a Scorpio sun, Gemini moon, and Virgo rising. I’m also an isfp, and a hufflepuff (idk if that stuff helps). I love DC comics and Marvel, but mainly DC. I do need out sometimes and go on rants about history or comic books. I enjoy helping my friends and family with their issues, I’m the mom friend. My love language is physical touch and words of affirmation.

hey babe! thanks for submitting!

I ship you with:

Hoosier Smith from The Pacific!

ship theme song: Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers and Coldplay

this dude will respect the shit outta you!

mark my words ;)

first of all: he thinks you're perfect

way too smart for him!

I feel like y'all would be too dang cute in some "fake dating -> lovers" trope

don't hate lol

it's probably when y'all are both stationed in Australia together

and some embarrassing dude from his platoon keeps asking you out

so Hoosier really steps up to the plate by slipping his arm around your torso at one of the bars in Melbourne one night

even though he'd been aching to do that for a really long time

he's amazed by your hair and its shape and texture

lets be real: men just love curls!

they're fun to play with, what can i say

he's so impressed by your ability to keep so much history knowledge in your brain

and recall it all so quickly!

Hoosier is very much an introvert

poor buddy just gets drained by people so fast

but with you, it's so easy to relax and let loose

his heart swells with pride at your curiosity and creativity

he loves when your crystalline blue eyes light up when you're rattling off history facts at him

you also share the same type of humor!

he's guaranteed to make you laugh at even the smallest things

sometimes he'll be like "lol ok grandma"

whenever you whip out your crochet needles

but he means it only jokingly

he loves receiving crocheted scarves and mittens from you during the holidays <3

this man is the King of YouTube surfing

he could play video games with you for hours

if you made this man a playlist, he would secretly play it all the time with his headphones on

speaking of secrets!

this man also loves DC and Marvel but he won't admit it

Chuckler kept going on about the comics every night on Guadalcanal

so Hoosier picked it up from him

I'm 99% sure Hoosier is ISTP

so that balances out your ISFP!

Hoosier very much wants to be there for you when you are battling your ptsd

even if it means just enveloping you in a warm hug

this man is going to do his very best to be what you need <3

[genshinimpactlife]

Saw your matchup requests were open and I was quite intrigued by the idea for a while now so I thought I’d send one in <3

I am a non-binary person and my preferred pronouns are they/them, although I’m quite alright with being called he/him, it/its and xe/xem too! As for my sexual orientation, I’m bisexual (although with a small preference for men).

I’d like a sfw and nsfw match-up please!

My favorite colors are grey/blue/white and my favorite seasons are autumn and winter, along with spring. My favorite music artist are cigarettes after sex, d4vd, tame impala and coldplay! I like to wear anything pretty, if socially perceived as feminine or masculine doesn’t matter to me. I wear what I feel amazing in and if someone has a problem with that then they can go cry in a corner :P

I have quite the sharp tongue, usually saying things as they are and being as direct as you could possibly be. Although I have my moments when I try to sweet talk things, so the other party doesn’t get hurt. I don’t like to present myself as a good person, I’m actually trying the best in my ability to get people to hate me, as it’s easier being hated by someone you don’t have a connection with rather than being hurt by someone that one has grown a connection with.

The warmth of physical touch is something I can’t stand, at least when it comes to family. I am an ambivert, and while I like to remain unseen to be able to mind my own business without interruption, interaction with others that I can imagine a conversation with is of interest to me. While I’m usually the quiet friend as I tend to remain in my own thoughts being a great thinker, I can have my moments. In said moments I tend to crack quite a plentiful of jokes and laugh to the occasion. One might actually forget how reserved and silent I was just a few seconds ago. My jokes are mostly lewd or sarastic, although most funny things consist of things I accidentally say and has people laughing for hours after…

I am an open minded person, just think it’s a necessary trait that no one should get praised for as it is the bare minimum. I’m quite open to hear anyones opinion. I like to stick to the facts and first-hand experience, so coming with some otherworldly stuff that has no retraceable evidence or just plain ignorance will be enough to get my interest in you to zero, though. I am terrible at dealing with emotions and while I will always be there to lend you a helping hand in the best of my ability and listening to your troubles, I am not capable of giving proper comfort.

Physical affection is my biggest love language in giving and receiving (although only with my s/o), with words of affirmation being the one I love receiving (also only with my s/o). Being touch and love starved from events in my childhood seem to have created a huge need for it in romantic relationships now. I hate to admit that I can’t handle certain things on my own and asking for help or a favor is very difficult for me. While I have been in romantic connections before, they were never too special so I fell out of love all too quickly again. I am always too worried that I’m too distant to my lover, that I’m not giving them enough/the equal amount of love and affection, especially in polyamorous relationships.

I am a hopeless romantic and I drown myself in romantic scenarios, daydreams and stories (mostly tooth rotting fluff in fanfictions). My favorite genre in published books is mostly mystery and dark-fantasy, along with queer novella.

I have been hurt many times in my life, which has lead me to setting my emotions on ice for most and protecting myself by creating a rough exterior. I would like someone in my life who can see (or conclude to) the reason why I am so distant and try to come close to me. Someone who is persistent but knows when to take a hint. Someone who is quite a bit more of the opposite of my own demeanor, someone good with words and a great spirit, one that is kind and free-willed and might go watch the sunset or the sky full of stars with me.

Interests of mine include drawing, painting, daydreaming, writing, true crime, marine life and questions of philosophy, along with music and the practice of living in solitude.

I enjoy browsing about new things that I didn’t know about before and listen to music all day long, it mostly accompanying me on my daily activities.

My favorite weather is cloudy, best if it rains along with it in medium intensity.

For the nsfw part:

I am a switch. I love giving to no end, I want to show my partner how beautiful they are to me and how much I love them. Kissing is one of my favorite things, if on the lips or anywhere else, as long as it’s with them, I’ll love it! I have a couple of kinks some of them being voyeurism, praising and degrading. Above all, vanilla sex is my preference as it is the most intimate, though I also don’t mind bdsm themes as long as it’s not the main practice. When I’m receiving, I tend to be quite needy and touchy, wanting their tongue in my mouth as much as possible and their chest flush against mine. I am quite vocal, with the intention of telling my beloved just how good they make me feel.

I absolutely adore, both in giving and receiving, creampies, along with overstimulation and edging, hair pulling, marking and nipple play. In addition to that I like being blindfolded and fingered, also getting additional stimulation from things like tiny vibrators.

My partners voice has to be honeyed, for I love dirty talk, whispers in my ear and a melody of beautiful moans and whimpers just for me.

I went a bit out on this one, I hope you don’t mind how long it is and thank you <3

I would match you with...

I know you said you have a slight preference for men, but Beidou was just screaming for this matchup.

100% Playful Enemy to lovers situation

Beidou has just as sharp of a tongue and can dish back what you serve.

When you two start growing close, and you show more of your funny and joking side, she starts falling for you.

She is never phased by your lewd or sarcastic comments. She throws them right back with a smirk.

She takes her time with you as she can sense your hesitation and the walls you have put up. She is the one who will take the time to chip away at them.

Your first date consisted of curling up under the stars while Beidou points out each one of importance. After a life at sea under the stars, she knows a surprising amount.

She doesn't have an issue with your being touched starved. She will always have an arm around you, a hand on your thigh, and cuddles with you in private.

She randomly reassures you when she senses your anxiety about how much she loves you, and how wonderful of a partner you are. NSFW Below

Beidou is also a switch.

She could kiss you for hours just because she loves the way your lips feel against hers.

She's big on degrading you and then immediately praising you after.

"Can you not keep up, pretty thing?

Beidou is good with both intimate vanilla sex or fucking.

She loves being on top, slowly fingering you as you two make out, chest to chest.

Beidou loves using toys on you. She loves watching you squirm as she overstimulates you.

Beidou is very vocal, especially when you are the one in control. Lots of moans and whines and asking you for more

I love how long it is!! it makes it easier for me to write these! I hope you enjoy <3

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Let’s talk: Coldplay x BTS - My Universe

by Admin 1

After theories and discussions that started all the way back in April 2021 among ARMY when Christ Martin had been in Korea, the day has finally arrived--My Universe is here and it is a hit. As of me writing this the song has already gathered 90 #1s on iTunes and had the highest debut on Melon Top 100 (#6) and the first idol group song to reach #1 since the chart reform (doing so in 11 hours). 

So then I called Phil, our fifth member, and Max Martin and said, ‘I think we’ve got a song to give to BTS.’ And they said, ‘Why don’t we hold onto it and give it to BTS.’ And then we started communicating with BTS and then went to Korea. — Chris Martin, NME interview

Sonically the song is a true collaboration of two legendary groups with neither losing any part of their identity. It sounds like a Coldplay song, but at the same time it also sounds like BTS, something that would share a shelf with Heartbeat, Mikrokosmos and a slice of Magic Shop. I won’t call myself an expert on Coldplay by any means. I own a few of their albums and I’ve been listening to them on and off for many years, but beyond certain songs and their general sound, especially the more recent one, my knowledge ends there. And yet, even based on that, everything in My Universe simply fits and works beautifully. It simply is a beautiful song.

Something I thought was a really beautiful touch was the song of the whale which reminded me of our lonely Whalian who so far sang his song all alone but now he isn’t alone anymore. His song did get heard in the end.

Now lyrically it is a love song, Chris Martin having described it as such as well, that talks about “difficult love”, one that may be forbidden or complicated due to other circumstances, just like is says in the lines that Namjoon sings and then harmonizes on with Jimin:

And they said that we can’t be together

Because, because we come from different sides

And really, at least in the context of Bangtan, a song with such a sentiment, such a message, that love transcends these different sides and other “barriers” makes perfect sense. Because of them being Korean and singing in Korean, many might find it difficult to give them a chance, to fall in love with their music, due to various reasons, and yet, once you do try and set aside your prejudices and opinions based on the popular “it’s cool to hate BTS” mindset, falling in love is truly one of the easiest things to do.

Thematically it also fits BTS so perfectly with mentions of the universe, stars, infinity, and lyricism that’s so romantic and poetic, you can’t help but wonder how they manage to think of these beautiful sentences each time. Hobi, Namjoon and Yoongi are credited on the song, and I really do think you can feel their lyricism in this, even if their parts may have been short, and yet it’s enough to know and feel that it is them.

Looking at Hobi’s verse there is so much beauty to it (translation via doolset):

나를 밝혀주는 건 What lights me up is

너란 사랑으로 수 놓아진 별 the star that was embroidered with love that is you

내 우주의 넌 Inside my universe, you

또 다른 세상을 만들어 주는 걸 create another world for me

This sentiment of a star that isn’t you but is made more beautiful because its been embroidered by you, a piece of you being added to it to make it more special. It’s so different from the usual thought of you being the ultimate thing, but rather that you being part of it is what makes it so beautiful, you being a part of that persons life, their metaphorical star, is what makes the difference. It also goes along beautifully with the final line from JKs second verse harmonizing with Chris Martin: We are made of each other baby. Made of each other instead of for each other, two equal parts of something united instead of two separate pieces that work for each other/together.

Another line that stuck out to me was one of Yoongi’s lines, being:

지금 이 시련도 결국엔 잠시니까 Because the trial we face now is just for a moment anyway

Whatever hardships we may be facing right now, in the grand scheme of a lifetime, they are temporary, will pass “after a moment”. It reminds me of his lyric from so far away, being:

dream 결국 시련의 끝에 만개하리 dream, will eventually be in full bloom at the end of hardships

This is something I love about BTS and their lyrics, that you can see certain themes and ideas appear again and again over time, watch as they change or evolve, or something is added to them. It shows how much care and thought that goes into their songs, into everything they write.

Now, as it happens every time, there is a discussion that could be had about the thing we know causes fights every time: line distribution.

As someone who adores Tae’s voice, I’m beyond happy that he got to have his moment in this song, on his dream collab with a band he's mentioned so many times that he’d want to work with them and that he likes. After so many other collabs and songs happened where he either didn’t make it on at all or only in the chorus, this is a beautiful moment.

On the other hand, as someone who has both Tae and Seokjin has their bias wreckers, I can’t completely ignore/gloss over the fact that Seokjin is only on the song in the gang vocals for the chorus and his one line before the rap part. After how magnificent he was on their Fix You cover, you would’ve thought he’d get more of a moment in My Universe, but he didn’t. But, in all fairness, while he only had one line, Tae only had two while Namjoon had one on his own and one harmonizing with Jimin (so let’s call it 1.5 lines). If you look at it this way, lyric wise instead of how long it takes to sing the line, there isn’t much of a different between these three.

Of course, if you compare Seokjin’s line with JKs two verses, that’s an entirely different discussion, but the same can in that moment also be said about Tae, Namjoon and Jimin. JK though is the main vocalist so this makes his amount of lines always different from the other vocal line members.

Something to note though would be that the song essentially ends singing wise at 3:11 but continues with instrumentals for 37 more seconds before it actually ends, since it is 3:48 min long. If they really would’ve wanted, in theory there was room to fit more singing, more lines, in but the choice against that was made for whichever reason, one we’ll likely never know. Since it’s a Coldplay song and none of the BH producers and staff are on it, the call likely was made by Coldplay, though seeing as this was treated as more of an equal collab instead fo a feature, I’d guess Bangtan had a little more of a say, or at least could voice their opinion, and yet the song sounds the way it does.

We still have the acoustic version and the supernova 7 remix to come so who knows if perhaps the distribution will change a little on those. Interesting though is that, thanks to the video Namjoon posted on twt earlier, we saw him record the opening verse along with Chris Martin, though ultimately the verse is only sung by him on the final version. I’m curious to see if the documentary will give us more details on all of this, and what we’ll get to see in general.

Generally what I find fascinating is how, depending on what device and with what quality, you listen to the song, you can discover more of the song, more layers and more voices. From discussions and gushing I know that most people say that the member harmonizing with JK on JKs second verse is Jimin, but I’ll be honest that for me it sounds more like it’s Seokjin, or even both. At the same time, some say that at the end of JKs first verse the line where he harmonizes with Chris Martin that they can hear Tae there as well, which I only do sometimes, which makes no sense, but it shows just how seamlessly their voices blend into each other and fit together, which is a good thing, the whole point of harmonies.

The thing that, for me, “saves” the situation when it comes to Seokjin is the fact that despite having only one solo line, he was still so, so excited for this song to come out, that he walked around with a polaroid picture of him and Chris Martin behind his phone case, and that now he even got Chris Martin’s guitar with a signature and “Jin Worldwide Handsome” written on it as gift simply because he said the guitar is awesome. So, for me, as long as he seems happy, I’m happy too.

When it comes to the lyric video we got that I thought was a really wonderful and fitting addition was this line at the end of it:

We Are AllOne In The Universe

instead of

We Are Alone In The Universe

It goes along well with Coldplay calling themselves and their fans, if I got that right, “One Big Band” while Bangtan have We Are Bulletproof : The Eternal and the idea that BTS and ARMY have each other and because of that we are not alone anymore either.

From anon: Lately, the BTS collabs have been so great. In a sense that the artists are so respectful of BTS and genuinely get along with them and speak so kindly of them. Megan, Coldplay, also Halsey supporting My Universe. Jason Derulo who?

I completely agree. Megan showed so much love and support, I mean, she literally fought for the remix in court, and then met the members in NYC. Halsey was one of the few that since their first arrival in the US showed them support and didn’t treat them like outsiders, and has been supportive ever since. It was really nice seeing them And then Chris Martin who went out of his way to go to Korea despite COVID and all the restrictions to meet the members and record the song with them, instead of going the more standard route of each group recording on their own and them putting the parts together remotely.

I love them, and we love them, and it’s been such a joy… So, I unabashedly and unashamedly feel really grateful for the song, grateful for the person that inspired the song, and grateful for the people we sing it with. — Chris Martin, Apple Music interview

We’ve heard a lot about Chris singing My Universe and also singing the Korean lyrics, but actually getting to hear it ourselves, so cool! It’s wonderful to see him embrace Bangtan in such a way, not only have them sing in their own language on the track but also, when performing, sing it that way as well instead of substituting it with the translations which would make it easier for him.

It shows that these are artists that really respect each other and see each other as equals despite all their differences. And that’s what makes My Universe feel like a song that is genuine and fits both perfectly.

[hhjs]

summary ➝ "I don't get it." You cock your head to the side and investigating the painting at your feet with an obstinate want to understand how it's supposed to depict love. "It just looks like they slapped on paint."

"Look here, dummy!" He slaps your pointer finger jokingly, grumbling under his breath.  Taking your palm and slowly splaying out the digits. Traces the rough pads against its silky texture, a map to somewhere, a blend of blue and pink, silhouettes reaching out for each other when the world intends to tear them apart.

You sigh, contentedly and think this must be it; because never was love meant to be understood.

It was meant to be felt.

word count ➝ 16.6k words.

alternatively➝ university premise.

genre ➝ angst, romance??? comedy??? a smidge of drama??? idk

pairings➝ han jisung. x fem reader.

warnings ➝ recreational drinking, use of profanity, suggestive.

note➝ i suspect that i have a vague emotional attachment to this. Please note that it used to be a jeonghan fic originally but is now rewritten.  i've been toying around with my writing style, idk if this has met what's expected :c but... this piece is a proper example of the idiots to lovers trope. 

a huge thanks to @emhpathy​ for beta-reading. 

 also i felt indolent and didn’t edit. :(

loosely based on the Coldplay song in question, ‘A Message’.

After. 

The air smells like seasalt. Like having a foamy blanket of  waves draped over your face until you let go, slowly, let all the air leave your lungs. 

In the distant rhythm of the rattling wind, you can barely hear the ring of childish laughter. It's an old bicycle Minho last rode when he was 13. Jisung's driving too fast. But you don't care, you don't care because you feel just so alive. You can feel your heart on your tongue. Under your fingertips. Inside your chest.

You can't believe it's true. Can't believe this is your life. Can't believe you're real.

The city is a haze of blue and yellow and red. Jisung slows down by the sidewalk, leaning into the wash of colours and it  stains the side of his face a little. The breeze is caressing his hair. Patting stubborn gelled strands out. His shoulders rise and fall with every little movement, upwards and downwards. When he breathes in and when he breathes out. Everything seems to slow down. Every second feels like a minute. Every minute like an hour.

 Then suddenly- and it surprises you a little - Jisung pauses, cranes his neck back to smile at you. It's lopsided, toothy. He looks so much younger. Suddenly, so utterly boyish. You commit the sight to memory, the sliver of his teeth, the glint in his eyes, the curl of his mouth -

You hope you never forget this.

 Because this is how you know. This is how you've always known.

You wouldn't change anything. Even if you could go back.  

Not for a second. Not when it hurt. Not when it was hard.

Not even once.

...

Bach's  Toccata & Fugue in D Minor. 

You're in your bedroom, you can hear the music in your head, the crescendos and diminuendos, the feather light piano, the strum of a guitar and the gargling of a trumpet, fingers buzzing with an intense desire to write it all down. But then the sound of an organ rips through the air, the curtains pull apart. Your bedroom floor gives away from under your feet. There is a stage, there is an audience impatiently staring up at you, watching you, measuring you and you don't know what to say.

So you run, run, run home.

You remember standing in front of your mum's bedroom. Knocking. When she lets you crawl back under the covers and she runs a caressing hand down your back, you say nothing. (There seems to be a gaping hole in your chest. And you don't understand it. Like something's missing.) . When she traces the shape of your jaw and says trouble sleeping? you say nothing. Then the rain pelts the windows, the curtains are  pulled; suddenly it's so much darker, so much colder, you place a hand over your heart and then look up at her, up to her large, concerned eyes and say, "It hurts."

 But it's okay. It's okay. You'll forget all about it by tomorrow morning.  Because your mum smells like home, like the earth after it rains. It's okay because the world is less scary when you're a kid. When you don't understand.

 Then you're on a train, it skids against its tracks and your hand hurts from holding onto the handle for too long. You hold your draft against your ribs.There are too many people. Shoulders. Heads. Standing. Sitting. Their lives are different. Even when they're together. 

From here, you can make out a woman stroking her toddler's cheek, a teenager with a copy of A Tale Of Two Cities in hand, a tall man, with his head hung low. He is smiling down at his lover. His fingers splay against her throat. She is looking at him. They say nothing. 

 She stands on her toes and kisses him. And something inside you suddenly comes alive, an absence, tries to gnaw its way out of your ribcage. Tries to tell you I've never left. 

The train finds itself in the belly of a tunnel. Outside, it's so much darker. So much colder. There's a blinking streetlight ahead. Yellow and lime green. It must have been raining. You don't know your stop.     

All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players. This is a stage. 

The passengers are impatiently staring up at you, watching you, measuring you and you don't know what to say. You can't run this time.

(You need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. You need to get out of here. This city. Something is missing. Something is wrong. You need to get away.)

Now you wait for a room. A door. A bed. And miss your mother with an intensity that's akin to taking a punch to the gut. You don't remember what the earth smells like anymore. Everything in the city is platform and concrete. And soot rising from tall  chimneys.

Suddenly, you can't believe childhood is over.

Spurts of light found themselves against the hallway ceiling, you wondered how long you'd been thinking about that nightmare for it to take so much of your attention. A mic involuntarily roars to life, reminding you that you were still at the varsity and you had to find Jisung. 

Which sounds easy, had it not been for your history with him. Avoiding him was getting progressively hard a task to maintain because you were in the same department, sharing minor courses that prompts you to think that nothing much had changed and you'd be lying if you said you mind. He is a stubborn page which keened on flipping over in the youthful chapters of your life, refusing to be left behind and some part of you is too scared to know what would happen if you had.

You sigh, looking at the clock nailed to one of the pale yellow pillars and then close your eyes to try to ease the tension in your shoulders. Breathing in. Breathing out.  This morning, you put on a thin cotton dress but the humidity had somehow prompted it to appear somewhat translucent.

Summer brushes up against the back of your neck, you rub your eyes vigorously, placing your sweaty palms on them, dapples of light settled atop  the lids. Coating the little twists of purplish veins pink and white, becoming brighter and brighter and brighter. Any minute now and you would muster up the courage to face him.

You push the field door open.

Football players for the born-again team are loitering about in the heavily populated room, expectants look on most of their faces. You begin to feel twice as much nervous than you did before. 

See, the possibility of stuttering nonsensical sentences and potentially embarrassing yourself in front of Jisung and nameless strangers, again, wasn't the most thrilling idea for you but if you don't make the deadline this time on this group assignment, you'll fail your linguistics course, so it  would be tough to bounce back from for the both of you.

The coach, who is a lanky man, with an alarmingly ruddy face and tufts of snow white hair spiralling out of his head, experienced a lot of difficulty blowing it away from his line of sight. With the  door held back, pressing a curious looking opaque board to his chest, he scans the entirety of the team with an owlish stare, when he was satisfied with the number of persons attending, he stepped in.

"Game starts in 10 minutes." he pauses, allowing the candidates to settle in. A feet away from you, Changbin produces a series of garbled profanities before going back greedily guzzling down the rest of his gatorade.

Once the coach clears his throat, his beady eyes travelling from one curious face to another, flitting between each person, it finds you briefly then it darts curiously across the scenery behind you, as though an explanation for your presence is out there somewhere, waiting to be discovered.

You hold the assignment packet against your chest, feeling the weight of gel blue letters under the rough pad and then slowly fold it open.

Han jisung. You tell him, that's who I'm looking for. 

It takes you awhile to navigate your gaze to the owner of the name amidst the maze of students huffing and puffing about schedules and missing lectures and deadlines, some shouldering their way out in bored frowns, some smiling excited smiles, rushing to grab a suitable seat. Like a blur of faces you catch on the subway and eventually forget, the little snippets of another person's life. Glimpses of them from car windows pressed together in traffic, just a few seconds before the light turns green. One minute you think you know them, put yourself in their shoes and imagine their life for them and the next, you go back to being strangers. 

To you, Jisung's face is an unmistakable, unforgettable kind of face. 

Taunting you from posters of his many swim team accomplishments, under which his name stood in big bold yellow letters, plastered on the noticeboards, on the  walls where the paint was starting to crack. The search didn't prove to be very difficult even though he didn't stick out like a sore thumb without his signature bleached blonde hair.

A varsity jacket is discarded on his body. Under the blue and yellow fabric, Jisung's chest rises and falls with every breath, his lanky legs perched up on the bleachers.  You wonder how he managed to doze off in the face of all this tension about getting clocked in face with a football. 

Aside from by accident, you were positive he hadn't tried to speak to you ever since your previous, unspeakably embarrassing encounter. 

That was a long time ago. 

It was certain that had it not been for this assignment, things between you would remain that way. In spite of this, you've gathered, because people never stop fawning over this prominent character, that not much has changed since you were in school.

Jisung managed to secure an attention drawing position wherever he went and upperclassmen wanted to be his friend even though he mostly indulged only in his own company. 

His head rests on folded arms, his foot is propped up on his knee, which he keeps shaking.  Sunlight crawls up the expanse of his exposed cheek, allowing burnt orange to  bathe half of his face, ribbons of liquid light tapering to smudges down the side of his jaw and disappearing.

Jisung has a boyish face, his eyes are big and kiddish, paired with a sharp nose and a convenient, small, pinkish mouth inherently pouted out to accentuate his puffy squirrel like cheeks but slimming down around his jaw. His raven hair falls in sleek, wet tufts clinging to his forehead and grazing his rosy cheeks, giving him a strange resemblance to a cherub loitering around in the real world.

Come to think of it, Jisung looks, like he invariably does, just slightly out of place.

You drop your bag on the grass. The action makes an unexpected thump. His eyes stir  faster behind closed eyelids, as though he were stirring awake from an ardently produced dream, like a newborn baby, divorced from the worries of the world. Jisung opens one of his eyes, then another, glaring confusedly, his lips pursed in unspoken surprise.

What's the big deal, right? At best, he'll start cooperating with you. At worst, you imagine, he'll toss you across the field for disrupting his sleep.

Of course, no one in their right minds would opt for the latter option, the rational part of you reasons - but you show him the packet,  just for safety measures.

"I thought we ought to go over how we're going to work around this assignment and you weren't in class so..."  You explain. When Jisung just blinks up at you in a curious fashion, you consider that he might not recognise you at all, that, for some reason, bothers you. "You probably don't remember me I-"

"I remember." He interjects firmly, acknowledging you with a fluent utterance of your name that gives you enough evidence of his claim, followed by a watchful, stoic gaze, he motions for you to take a seat beside him. 

You hesitantly sit at the end of the row,  keeping a calculated distance between your bodies. You find that even after all this time looking him in the eye was just as unnerving as it had been the first time they shyly flickered back to yours from across a thick spined A levels Calculus textbook. There's still an intimidating air about him, something that seeks to be constantly impressed without asking to.

Jisung sits up straighter, setting both his legs on either side of the bench, he keeps his gaze trained on your face, not looking away once. "Go on." He suggests, his voice low, "What do we have to do?"

You perk up at this, taking the contents out of the packet. Setting them down before you, you reiterate the instructions rendered in class, trying to include every important detail which contributes to the making of the project.

"We have to attach a PowerPoint part too." You paused, "Let's do that bit today."

Jisung listens intently, never cutting you off, he nods occasionally, making suggestions when you were trying to look for suitable loops in your schedules to work on the scheme, you recommended  several premises, ranging from cafés to parks to libraries to food courts, even your place because it's the closest from Jisung's flat and he refuses go beyond the distance on a Sunday morning. You casually let in the fact that your flatmate would be there in order to insinuate that you hadn't made the offer because of your previous feelings for him.

 You sigh, taking a minute to stretch back and take a deep breath. The bench is cool under your thighs, soft caresses of a warm summer breeze brushing the hair from your face away, pale yellow pours from the canopies, staining the grass, football players prepping in the distance, their zealous partners egging them on with excited smiles, shouting encouragements from the other end of the court.  You imagine lying down on the grass, spreading your arms out and not having a care about anything.

"You still wear that bracelet." 

"What?" You yawn, brows furrowed in confusion. You look at him from the corner of your eyes,  finding that his brown orbs motion to the source of comment, they dart from your cheek to your wrist, where surely the platinum accessory is tied to its loosest hoop, it used to be your go-to add-on in school. 

Surprised, you touch the item briefly, before retracting your hand slowly. All you can think is he remembers, he really remembers,  "...Yeah."

...

Instead of running about playgrounds with a mouthful of kiddish laughter and building cartoonishly  architectured sandcastles, you remember spending most of your childhood with your nose dug deep inside a fairytale, splurging much time on committing the glide of milky pages to memory, eyes widening, face twisting with each vicissitudes of emotions that would come over you with each stage of exploring a story. It was your own little world, a catharsis for all that you were holding inside, a window you could crack open and when the real world felt stuffy. 

Fancying Jisung was, your younger self imagined, fantastical, like something out of those fairytales.

You don't know when you started liking him, maybe it was the first time you saw him. It was your last year in school and Jisung's unfamiliar face was a new sight against the fuzzy background of sleepy students pouring into the hallway, it was the kind that demanded to be noticed, even though he simply  looked bored with an enormous pair of headphones looped around his thin neck.

Jisung was born to go through life being the embodiment of an all rounder, now that you think about it, there's not a thing he wasn't good at, always  having a proclivity to outshine others.

 He was a transfer student with stellar grades in spite of mostly routing his interest  towards composing  obscure music you'd found floating about the net. In all honesty, he truly was the master of all trades and the jack of none and every room was a keeper of attention, enveloped in an intangible but unanimous, wordless veil of interest towards the new character.

But  maybe it wasn't as theatrical as you remembered; maybe it was the love at  first sight nonsense, maybe it wasn't something you realised overnight, out of the blue, maybe it all happened at a slow, infuriating pace, maybe you started liking him for the small, stupid and unimportant things, like when you dropped your pen, the thin stick rolling away between your desks and he picked it up, flicking it between his fingers curiously, carefully curling his fingers around the metal, observing it before putting it back on your desk, maybe it was in class, when he zoned out in class, not bothering to look apart until he realised it had caught your attention, he then blinked away, the rosy hue of his cheeks more prominent with each passing second,  maybe it was when you were sure you were about to flunk the history pop quiz and Jisung whispered the names of warriors and poets and the fallen while keeping his gaze firmly poised on his paper.

You were so shy, cloistered, intensely egregious and he kept seeking you out in some new manner, causing you to be an element of mild interest not only amongst your peers but also people who actively seeked his romantic interest.  Although, conversations  on your part never stretched beyond differentiation and stealing cautious glances at one another, (which wasn't a shocker because you didn't know how to compute a chat with him and Jisung was unusually timid for someone who acquainted himself with well known rambunctious personalities), you genuinely enjoyed his company.

So you obliged. Even though it was utterly improper and you were sure he liked someone on the cheer squad. It was just that you were a kid and you wanted to wear your heart on your sleeve just once before tucking it away forever.

He poked his head out from the water, wordlessly upon hearing his name, looking at you with a cocked brow and you were quick to say it, like you had to before you ended up changing your mind, it took a lot of courage to mutter a simple confession after all,  in spite of the fact you didn't at all picture him reciprocating, whisking you off of your feet with a wide grin, in a grand affirmation of all the rubbish pop culture has spoon fed you. 

It was a stereotypical teeth rotting, sweet crush that bound you to want to be around Jisung in a way he didn't, something lodged deep inside of you, the same thing that was childish and clung onto its fairy tales for dear life, hoped that he would share the same feelings, in spite of knowing it was undoubtedly unrequited. 

 Jisung had an indecipherable look on his face, he parted his mouth to say something but paused as if looking for the right words.  He simply settled with a sigh, before lowering his body down into the pool. You replayed the scene over and over again for the rest of senior year, until it drove you to a point of absolute insanity. You even considered googling what a sigh was supposed to convey, if fishing through dictionaries wasn't going to tell.

That was notably the last time you spoke in school.

But your strained relationship stayed with you like an embarrassing tattoo  and in trying desperately to  conceal it, afraid someone would see too much, know too much, you would only make it more apparent. 

You had to push him away to the farthest corner of your mind so you didn't have to wonder anymore, didn't have to interpret every action like your life depended on it - because love to you was so immense that it was overwhelming. You've wanted love to rescue you in some way, looked for it in the soft murmur of pages, in the chilling words to a song you can't seem to forget, you've waited for love like an impatient eagle anticipating its opportunity  to leap in and swoop up its shot at satisfying its undying hunger. You needed to uproot those budding feelings before they took abode inside your chest, grew stronger, into something massive, unignorable, something like love.

Avoiding Jisung in hallways, in class and really everywhere was some form of a habit you were developing - but that didn't stop him  from entangling himself with your ponderings; you thought of all the things he did without paying much attention to the act, like his petulant whining when he wanted something he wasn't getting, you thought of the way he tapped his pen against the wooden desk, silently eyeing chalky math problems on the board before uttering the answer with an ease only he could carry, you thought of his petulant front during arguments and how he always ended up winning, you just missed being around him without the added tension - which was funny because you're the one to blame for it. 

To your knowledge, Jisung didn't know to speak in puzzles, even when he didn't want to say something, he always found an agreeable way to deliver it,  often unknowingly wording them as they were, he didn't understand the complexities with which people conversed, needing everything to be black and white, as clear as the summer sky, so everyday felt like he owed you an example of his unintentional transparency, a explanation even though you knew he didn't.  

Maybe that's it, you thought, maybe that's all. 

(Sometimes you would sense his gaze searing into the side of your face, as if he was on the verge of uttering a greeting.

But graduation came along. And you never heard anything from him.)

You began to understand that all those tear jerking, unhappy endings were inevitable, like not being able to take your eyes off the stage during  Giacomo Puccini's Sono Andati, like being exposed to Mimi's excruciating death, losing something you can't put a finger on - and suddenly, the plays, the window, the catharsis wasn't enough, the child in you wanted to scream and  kick and throw, the child in you wanted to forge her own ending, the one that made sense, the one you could anticipate.

Running his palms along the cool glass, Jisung pauses from time to time to look at you, as if expecting you to address the elephant in the room, the same elephant that followed you all the way from campus, to his car, to the café downtown. It wasn't until the waiter went away in the pursuit of getting your order did he pose the inquiry. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

You shake your head slowly, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

 "What's there to talk about? It was a long time ago and I'm over it."

 Saying it out loud like this feels weird, it feels so real and disappointing and embarrassing, you feel reduced to a child coming clean about that one time they tipped over a vase and dusted the debris under the rug he is about to step about on, hoping he wouldn't notice. 

The statement makes you feel guilty, like you're lying. You don't want to know if you really are.

"Well, does that mean we can be friends?" Mutters Jisung against the opening of his straw, sipping miserly as though not wanting to finish the rest of his Americano. He opens his mouth to say something but stops, looking blatantly confused, like that was the only explanation he had for your fallout. "I don't understand." 

Not having thought that far, you stop typing, the click clack of keys muting, Jisung's thick rimmed glasses rest atop the jut of his nose and he's peering over them to look right at you with big wide eyes, genuinely interested in being supplied an answer.  The sixteen year old you would be overwhelmed with bouts of fluster right now. But you stopped being that person a long time ago, in fact, that person is to you a bleary recollection of a mere stranger who you thought you saw somewhere but couldn't put a finger on the location.

Shrugging, unsure, the question comes after a lengthy pause, "I guess it does?"

You sit in temporary silence after the short conversation ends, never going off topic again and giving into irrelevant chats even though Jisung is actively trying to initiate conversation about things which had nothing to do with work. You wonder why, wordlessly admitting that it was getting harder to resist the urge to talk to him with every passing second.

His car was parked a few lanes away from the café so you were obliged to walk after getting through the first portion of the assignment.

"So." Jisung starts, biting the side of his cheek, "What have you been upto lately?"

Talking to Jisung isn't as difficult as your younger self made it to be, he could hold a conversation well, jumping from serious topics to lighter ones to keep the balance, making witty comments here and there that had you laughing without really meaning to and every time, you'd catch a look of satisfaction glinting in his eyes. 

 The pair of you walk by an ice-cream parlour where a short bald man with a perpetually happy  face is handing out samples. A mint green board is attached to the appendage of a stall, outstretching from the original store, it says La Petite Glacière. 

You raise your brows, literal nomenclature.

"Journalism could suit you." The comment is off-handed, a product of you thinking out loud, imagining Jisung running around with a recorder, with his big, friendly eyes, queries posed with an an easy jovial attitude; it's so befitting, you just couldn't help but notify him. Even if it was an involuntary notification. You left out the part where you always pegged his love for composing would eventually materialise instead, this was unexpected to say the least. But Jisung described music as a getaway, something he was willing to do out of passion and not duty.

It was to his credit that he didn't laugh in your face when you said you wanted to be a playwright, specialising solely in the field of fiction. That's one thing he doesn't have in common with your parents. (Who didn't hesitate to point out that it was an obsolete branch of writing.)

"Yeah?" Jisung grins archly, glancing at you, as insinuating the memory of you playing Iago when you were expecting to land Desdemona is still impressed on him. "I could say the same for you."

You only wave him off, rolling your eyes. Some things are better left forgotten.

It's hot and you're really thirsty. You're knee deep in lengthy conversations engineered to catch up with one another, which consisted of ping-ponging inquiries about everything and anything, like how it was moving away from your family and new hobbies and pet peeves and casual strolls down memory lane but then the tension would settle and you would grow awfully quiet, like you're doing something you aren't supposed to, like you're walking into the inviting mouth a ginormous tiger whilst convincing yourself that it won't gobble you up.

"Okay. I have one." you start, he's nodding in encouragement,  "Have you been dating a lot?" 

Jisung laughs at your obvious curiosity, wiping his sweaty forehead with a spare napkin, strolling really fast, long legs promoting his speedy gait, you have to jog from time to time to keep up.

"Why?" 

He tilts his head to you, the teasing spark in his eyes glinting knowingly, he becomes shorter and grows taller walking up and down the slopes of the bumpy road.

  Your eyes widen. You were curious! You haven't spoken to him for a long time and you're just catching up. Exactly, you tell yourself,  that's believable, that, you think, makes sense. The other explanation, the one you're deigning to not look in the eye, that a part of you would be disappointed if he had said yes doesn't.

You flounder for a response, something, just a word or even an awkward noise, anything to formulate a proper retort. When that proves to be delayed and difficult, heat begins to pool into your cheeks, shooting up to the back of your ears and budding under the skin of your neck.

"Just asking."

 He hums, ghosting his fingers along the small of your back, careful not to touch you as he shoulders his way to your side without bumping you off of your feet, the gesture prompts something inside your gut to twist and twist and twist. "Well...yeah, but it's never been serious."

You're waiting for the red light so you can cross the road to the parking area. Jisung is towering over a sea of the heads, he's not much taller than the average person, hands tucked in his pockets. The wind is messing his hair up to the side, he keeps running his fingers through the stubborn strand to get it to sit right but when the endeavour proves to be futile so he just scoffs, as if berating the strand whilst stubbornly repeating the action. 

Looking at him like this, you imagine falling in love with Jisung is easy. Like gliding a hot knife through butter. It must feel just right, even if it doesn't last long, like holding fire in between your palms and pretending you own it, feeling the warmth kissing your skin before it nips and burns, like speeding across comets, stars and the moon, waging wars in the name of romance and producing litanies about love and then - finally, inevitably, unwillingly - letting go, like you always knew you would.

 You imagine the aged memories of blurry faces behind cobwebs of raindrops and curtains of mist, the faces of people who he could've loved but hadn't.

And it scares you for some unknown reason.

There's something inexplicably lovable about Jisung, his babyish features have always possessed the tendency to catch you off guard, even though you've known him for a long time; it's gobsmacking and too winning to be real, like something out of a dream, the milky planes of an acrylic face. The smooth buttery texture of his skin, the subtle, narrow jut of his nose, the pouted shape of his mouth and pearly teeth. You think he doesn't know this, doesn't see himself the way you do even when he pretends to be confident with his boastful jokes, they are just jokes after all. Only further evidence of how he doesn't want to believe any compliment rendered his way.

"What about you?" He poses, looking over from the hood of his car while unlocking it from the driver side, "Dating anyone?" 

The truth is, you've tried the atrocities of blind dating and online dating and casual dating but they all have been deficient and you're too tired to go through the never ending cycle  of being on disappointing dates again: your expectations are too high, some might even say, for the way you seek familiarity with absolute strangers; you're stubborn, awkward and sometimes, simply unapproachable,  but for the sake of not deflating your ego, you decide that Jisung doesn't need to know this. 

You shake your head, failing to understand why Jisung is grinning through the cracked window, whilst you're pulling the door open and plopping down on the passenger seat.

"Why are you smiling?" You furrow your brows, watching as the lopsided grin grows bigger. 

"Because." He shrugs, tucking his hands in his pockets.  

"Because?" You look at him expectantly, but he just looks back at you without expanding the brief explanation. You're so close that you can make out the thin layer of mist collecting on his eyelashes, his arched cupid's bow, his eyes have so much brown in them. You'd liken the colour to that of a muddy lake, like the bare earth, they catch sunlight and turn golden, just for a second, for just one second, it looks like what magic must be like. Realising that you have been staring at him for quite long, you tear your abashed gaze away. Piloting it to shift from the buskers to the other cars, buses, pedestrians, traffic lights, looking for a sight distracting enough.

"I'm not telling you!" Jisung mocks your tone like a child with a violent shake of his head, putting his keys in ignition. The engine roars to life, wheezing like a kettle. Why he drives a Comet Convertible when he could've gotten any other alternative is a wonder; not that you mind, you like it, it’s  like sitting  inside a giant jewelry box, the inside is smooth red leather, velvety smooth black paint on the outside.

"Why not?" You frown.

Jisung rolls the steering wheel with one hand, keeping his eyes trained to the approaching traffic while turning lanes, he giggles, "Because."

...

You'll have to admit that it's quite... challenging coming to terms with being friends with Jisung. Not because he's practically everywhere but  just since Jisung tends to demand your attention when he realises he's not getting it.

When you try to dodge him on mornings after he cheats at UNO, scurrying away behind swathes of sleep deprived university students, hoping you don't catch his eye, he calls your name in that  loud, clear and intentional way that he does, dragging a heavy arm around your shoulder to squeeze it against the back of your neck before tousling your hair or some other action to effectively ruin your get up. When you zone out in class, musing absently about something that has nothing to do with scale efficiency and accidentally catch his gaze, he winks at you, snapping you right back into attention. 

Your friendship is, to say the least, interesting, for everyone around you.  It's like everyone is always on the edge of their seats, waiting for a chance to poke fun at your apparent chemistry. It means nothing, you're just friends, you remind yourself over and over again, defensively, succumbing to the urge to grow closer and closer to him without paying mind to the annoying voice in your head.

Jisung texts you in the middle of the night, when he's parked out front, to meet him for a midnight drive out that you're sure no one knows about and you tell yourself you're getting away with it - only to be confronted by a smirking Sunwoo in the morning, likening the situation to a teenager  caught red handed sneaking in through the window after a clandestine night of partying.

 But you're not spared the teasing even out in the open. Though while you squirm awkwardly, sink into your seat and refute offendedly, Jisung doesn't have a lick of such knowledge or care, he easily slumps against you, resting his head on your shoulder in class and dozing off, indifferent to the multiple pairs of eyes zeroing in on you.

Even though the bartenders smile their coquettish smiles, offering drinks on the house and people laughed a little more than necessary, twirling their hair around their fingers at anything and everything he said, thence offering proper chances to ditch you completely, he remains close to you at pubs, putting his long fingers on your shoulders and resting his chin on your head, shooting some creepy guy who just wouldn't stop insisting on buying you a drink a look that said he wouldn't mind taking a stronger stance, had the creep not backed off. It was what anyone would have done, you tell yourself, ignoring the underlying pang of a gut feeling that begged to differ.

You envy the obvious charm Jisung holds over everyone, easing his way out of the jokes to do whatever he wants, you wonder what he would do if someone asked him if you were just friends, if he would dismiss them with a wave or provide a positive response, if it would hurt, if it would matter.

"Hey!" 

You jump at the tone. It's breezy, light and followed by a scoff at the end, you recognise it, sighing once the initial surprise oozes out of you to be replaced with familiarity, Renjun is halfway through a complaint about acrylic paint, his mouth half open while his eyes travel over your head, where you're certain the owner of the voice is jogging up to the pair of you. 

"I'll er...catch you later." Renjun purses his lips, while you turn your gaze back to Jisung, he's coming from practice, so his hair is wet, cheeks flushed red, he looks younger like this, completely barefaced. He's wearing a  plain white t-shirt and light wash jeans, even in such an ordinary attire, a few bypassers' attention latch solely onto him.

The sun has long laid on a cotton soft sheet of clouds, letting a blue evening straighten its back against the dark firmament, the crowd at campus is reducing dramatically, you were walking to the metro, deciding to rest by the park bench as he mimics the pose, sliding from the opposite end when you try to keep a distance.

Jisung nudges you with his shoulder. "We’re having a party at our new place. You should come."

It wasn't willingness that took you to loud premises. You aren't exactly a party animal, far from it, maybe an animal that blends into the background, wordlessly observing  masses of sweaty people who will wake up with horrible hangovers the next morning, wishing the night before had never happened. If such an animal exists. 

 But you're genuinely curious about meeting Minho, who seems to have assumed the position of  one of Jisung's best friends while you were absent from his life. You found yourself wondering if he was different from Bang Chan, who in spite of being the former's friend, is someone you could deem yourself more similar to than he is to Jisung; shaking your heads and groaning into your palms, Chan would pinch the bridge of his nose and cautiously glance at you as though to convey You get me, right? while Jisung showered the karaoke bar manager with grandiloquent blandishments into giving extra minutes for a lower price.

Despite this, it is the undeniable but sheer adoration for your fun-loving mutual friend that binds you two together the best, the shared looks of appreciation when Jisung  scolds you for neglecting your health, when he surprisingly remembers a minor detail about you or when he indulges in appreciative chats about crayon drawings with loquacious kids who would come running to display their paintings when you were looking to take an indolent walk in the local park, he would listen attentively, moving to a sitting position, nodding his head like he understood what the kiddish gibberish meant; one thing is certain -  there was certainly more to Jisung than people pegged and if anything, those undiscovered traits only made him more endearing.

"Okay….but make sure we don't end up playing strip poker or something." You shudder at that thought, grimacing exaggeratedly to make your point.

"Why?" He raises his brows, a small simper playing on his lips to give away that he was only teasing you, "I like that game."

But under all that banter, it was well received that Jisung would never put you to the obligation of doing anything you're not comfortable with, so you just play along, narrowing your eyes, "That's because you're a pervert." You say, stifling a laugh whilst his grin dissolves to drop to a blank face.

 Jisung glares at you, nudging you with his knee, effectively putting you on the verge of falling.

"Hey!"  You scoff, repeating the action but Jisung doesn't roll across the grass like you wanted, he doesn't even budge. Instead, he laughs at your frustration, shaking his head and glancing back at you with an entertained look in his eyes. 

(Something inside your chest is growing, like an epiphany, its vines pushing up against your lungs, your heart, its thornes prickling, injuring the flesh, something that tells you this is so much more to you than you'd admit, you press it down, ignore it; just a little longer, you think, just a little longer before you start to see this for what it is. )

"Why are you staring at me?" Jisung questions, you can't help but notice how he tilts his head, moving his curious face closer to yours, inspecting, like just before he makes his final move and mutters Checkmate but he doesn't actually know what he's doing, doesn't realise the weight of his actions.  "Do I have something on my face?" He tilts his cheek to you, as though offering you to examine it and then, immediately his mouth lowers down to form a deep set frown. Is he really that goddamned clueless? Doesn't this affect him at all? 

"No." You clear your throat and lean back, moving your weight on your palms,  "It's getting late. We should get going." 

...

The earliest memory you have is from when you were five, your parents had taken you to the beach and that day, while the sun shone brightly and the sand was warm, like home under your feet, with big curious eyes, you gazed off into the brilliant blue water. 

It was just so beautiful. 

And you so badly, wanted to wade into the welcoming foamy arms of the sea. If only the immensity of the water hadn't scared you as much as it did, you thought. It was like a blue giant that was reaching to steal the sun off of the sky and if you  dared to test the waters, the liquid Goliath could whisk you right off of your tiny feet and drag you into its mouth.

 That, you think, is what you're really afraid of, that deep down inside , you never really stopped holding back. That you'll never muster up the courage to do anything you really want.

In the midst of the chaos of an alcohol induced party, your head feels like it's about to explode.

It stopped raining. And you haven't had the luxury of running into Jisung ever since he went off to get a drink for himself.

The windows are open. Though there's not a flutter of a cool breeze or anything. But there are assortments of crisps, juices and other suspicious looking snacks. The cool curve of the stair railing pressing up against your side. It's unspeakably loud. The frat house, as typical as it sounds, welcomes an obnoxiously large crowd, it isn't surprising, considering people here have a reputation for social adeptness, the house being big enough to capacitate a crowd twice as big as its guests is just a plus point.

 Once the majority of the crowd  had  long thinned out to participate in a curious sounding game of  beer pong, the aftermath is that everything smells like sweat, vomit or both. You're tipsy, tired and alone. It's been an hour since you arrived. Your patience is wearing thin. 

 You down the remainder of the watered down scotch, even though the liquid could secure a horrible case of nausea if you couldn't hold your liquor well tonight.

In the mess of too many heads, too many hands and too many bodies, pushing, pulling, dancing and kissing  with shocking hostility, suddenly, the view starts to shift, from left to right, from upwards and downwards, like you're on a rollercoaster but without the lap bar. It's certainly a symptom of  the  splitting migraine you're sporting. It's too loud downstairs for you to summon anyone and besides, the search for a familiar face seems futile.  

You fish out your phone, wondering if you should send Jisung a text, squinting at the glaring blue screen but decide against it - hoping to God that you don't walk in on anyone shagging while looking for one of the rooms to crash in. 

Now, that...would put them in an awkward position. You mentally high five yourself for the joke. 

Though the amusement is  mostly transient, soon replaced by a rapid jerk of pain. Wincing in an attempt to stand with little control over balance, you try to ease the pain from your briefly twisted foot. 

When you've made it to your desired destination, an inconspicuous looking room at the end of the long hall, you kick off the death traps for heels off of your feet and all but fling yourself on the mattress.

Stacks of comics are carefully  placed on the top most shelf of the bookshelf pushed against the wall, their polished spines sticking out.

 The rest are overflowing with vinyls, set in alphabetical order. You can tell because each row has a tag taped over its head.

Everything is surprisingly clean, the walls are crisp white, there's a single black wall on which a large painting sits. A night light glows dimly, perched up on the bedside table. Whoever's bedroom this is, has the blandest taste in interior design. Or a lack of it since they moved in not long ago as Jisung informed.

 You stare owlishly at the blue ceiling, following the undulating spines of bricks, stacked in. Upwards and downwards. Like a map. Like a  staircase to nowhere. Then you close your eyes. 

Imagining that you're staring up at the sky at dawn, when it's  a swirl of milk tea. Golden. Buttery white. Autumnal Yellow. And pumpkin spice. Brown curls against the background of a milky white firmament and if one bothered to look closer, they'd catch stars peeking from behind slowly darkening clouds, waiting to come out. 

When you were a child, you liked to stick a curious index into filled tea cups, as if to study the khaki liquid , not quite grasping the connoisseurship of hot beverages just yet. The experience would always end with a mouthful of biscuits and your grandmum's tickles engendering your stomach to ache a good kind of ache.

Now, the memory prompts you to raise a finger to the air, as if you were dipping your digits into the whirlpool of maroon. For a moment, you feel as if you're still that little girl stuck in someone else's body, like you hadn't grown up at all. 

But in the hurtful manner that reality often made itself known, yanking you right back from your dreams, the door creaks noisily and then closes.

Out of the corner of your eye, the character looks more like a funny sketch on a chalkboard than he does a person. All blurry and messy. Like someone tried to rub him out. 

The flash of light radiating from his phone, a sliver of neon, silver, you recognise his face, you've seen the same expression right before he's about to choose between  his favourite ice cream flavour; eyebrows knitted in concentration, lips pursed, emerging from the shadows.  He's typing really fast. You blink, adjusting your vision. The unobstructed sight of his face broadens. "Jisung?" 

 He looks at you, positioning his phone towards your face to get a good in the barely there light. 

"Yeah?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, "What are you doing here?" 

"That's a good question."  He snorts.  "Indeed, what business might I have in my room?"

You jump, sitting straighter, then stand up. Just in case he thinks you're a fucking creep. He probably doesn't even want to be friends with you anymore and you understand, you wouldn't want to be friends with you either. "I...I didn't know."

Jisung laughs loudly at your fluster, rolling his eyes,  he plops down, the mattress dipping under his weight, groaning noisily. He pats the spot beside him. "Relax..."

You wear a doubtful look, under the impression that he'd break into a laughing fit with a quip about you caving in so easily.  You narrow your eyes even though you're quite tempted to take his offer. 

He tuts, yanking you by the arm so you sink down beside him.  

"I just saw you coming upstairs, wanted to make sure some asshole wasn't picking on you." He explains, his face contorting to momentary peevishness just at the fleeting thought. 

A crappy pop song is buzzing in the background, you can hear it, you can smell the salted popcorn in the air. His fringe is brushed forward, cheeks smoothed over, moisturised, in this intimidating proximity, you pick up that Jisung always smells really good. Like aftershave and something strong, woody, earthy — but just the right amount, not overpowering.

 "Have you considered trying something more...erm... colourful?" You  scan his room, deciding to change the subject, attempting to dodge the heavy feeling of fluster in your chest; you guess it was showing on your face because the corners of Jisung's mouth begin to quirk upwards. If there’s anyone more awkward than Jisung, it /s definitely you. "This isn't really you."

 With his mouth lopsided, his nose scrunching upwards, his teeth showing, his eyes turning to crescents, Jisung chuckles, as if perceiving your attempt to digress but choosing to let it slide.

 "Then what is?" He raises a brow.

"I don't know." You pause, trying to picture a suitable tint, "Something bright."

Someone starts blasting Ed Sheeran outside, putting the volume all the way. It creates a proper distraction from the conversation to go beyond simple suggestions, it was a sudden reminder of just how badly you wanted the party to be over.

 "You know the more I think about it, the more I come to acknowledge that this is really not my scene."  You confess absentmindedly, backing up on the mattress so your feet dangle, your headache kicks back, beating inside  your ears, knocking against your skull. You lie back on the mattress, curiously blinking up at Jisung's frowning face.

 "Why didn't you tell me that before?" He says, a pinch in his brows pushing the shape up in utter concern. 

"Because I wanted to come." You say honestly, prompting Jisung to heave a deep sigh, relief gradually washing over his rigid features, "I don't know, maybe I'm just not fun enough."

"Yeah. That's probably it." He jokes, grinning from ear to ear. But the shape drops immediately when you jut your lip out instead of mirroring the mirthful action. "You really think so?"

 He blinks at you, not expecting the forwardness, "No." He says, and you note that this is the most serious Jisung has ever sounded around you.

Your face is growing increasingly hot as the weight of his remark started to kick in. It’s so unfair, isn't it? He has no idea how every little thing he said to you meant so much more than it ought. It hurt when you found yourself automatically deducing his trivial actions, all the while knowing it hadn't meant anything to him.  To him, you're just a friend. And you aren't going to let your emotions ruin that, not again. 

 "What's the party for anyway?"

You furrow your eyebrows in genuine curiosity when the silence has become unbearable. Constantly needing to be disrupted. 

 "It's a stupid frat house tradition, they do it every time we move."

“Sounds like a cult activity to me."

You hear him hum, as if feigning contemplation, then open your eyes.

 "Well, that...That's because it is."

It's very typical of Jisung to try to make jokes whilst trying to keep a straight face. In most cases, he doesn't fool anyone. His voice rises  to a cartoonish volume, his mouth pouted out when he speaks as though to hold back a laugh, it’s his eyes, widened, twinkling with a notorious spark in them that ultimately gave it away. In rare instances, however, they deluded strangers into thinking he was being serious when he really wasn't; like that time he told Chan the pool was pre-heated just for the latter, who trustingly dove into the water, to swim up with clattering teeth and ice cold skin to the surface finding that Jisung was grinning deviously. It was an obvious payback for the time the older male hogged Jisung's share of cheesecake as a daring attempt at pranking.

Maybe, you guess, you just knew him too well.

  "Interesting." you raise your brows, playing along, "I'm surprised there isn't any nude dancing involved."

 "Wow...you sound so disappointed.” 

 Jisung laughs, his chest heaving upwards and downwards with every laboured breath.  It's a pleasant sight, knowing you get to have this moment to yourself. For reasons you'd like to ignore, something inside your chest begins to ache, thrumming against your ribs. It isn't until you put your hands over your face in an attempt to get rid of a thin layer of sweat, do you realise that you were smiling.

When he calms down, he keeps looking at you. "I take that you made the submission?" He presses, knowing well that you were intending to put off the matter from the dodgy look in your eyes. "Right?"

 Before, Jisung stubbornly pressed on the matter, it was unheard of for you to allow your writings to be read by anyone other than yourself; it was only fiction, your little secret, you reason, even though you knew the underlying cause of your unwillingness was that you simply cannot take rejection well, it is truly terrifying but an automatic reaction to think that your work is boring and somehow unworthy of praise every time  you are on the verge of sharing it. Your parents never showed any particular interest in it and you assumed that was a universal desire. 

But Jisung is incredibly obdurate when he wants to be.

 Sometimes, you think he's the only person in your life who's truly honest with you, he doesn't shower you in false accolades, not hesitating to rip the band-aid, to point out the less likable bits from the likable ones even if he knew it would make you unhappy. It was interesting prying your wounds open around him, he wouldn't suppress his thoughts and blurt euphemisms like it's going to be okay, he would grimace and gag and then he'd clean them, he would sit patiently with them and try to dress them up for better - and somewhere along the way, while you may have cared about other people's opinions, your concern for what he thinks of you is starting to become far more significant. And it petrifies you.  "No." 

Jisung shoots you a look of annoyance, staring at you like he's awaiting an explanation. You can sense the lengthy talk coming from the back of his throat, something which surpassed the regular limits of you should do this and you shouldn't do this, he relentlessly pushed you towards your career which you claimed you were passionate about but needed his stern berating often when you would stagger back in indolence and you'd be lying if you said it isn't effective - albeit, the scoldings sometimes led to the two of you bickering back and forth, giving each other the silent treatment until one of you would cave - whatever it was, you know you could never turn down Jisung, even if he was bruising your ego to ask you to get your shit together.  "Why not?"

 "It's just a stupid draft, Sungie..." You laugh nervously but he doesn't give into the fit like you imagined, instead, he just dons a solemn look on his face, something that seems to show that he'd been peeved by your response.

  "No it’s not." He shakes his head slowly and there's sort of a firmness in his retort that surprises you, far from how he usually jokes on about,  that tells you there's no room for argument, "It's not stupid at all."

Jisung tears his gaze away, his expression softening once he notes the worried look on your face, it's as though he had suddenly changed his mind about the lecture he was surely planning  to give you,

 "Look I don’t want to fight.” He sighs, “You’re always talking about how much this means to you and if it’s something that you really want, don't put it off. I'm your friend, I can only encourage you — but at the end of the day, it's your job to pull yourself up. Goes without saying that it’ll be a complete waste if you don’t pursue play writing because you - and I don't care if you don't agree with me -  really do have a lot of potential.”

You blink in wonder, ”You think so?"

 "I know so."

 You don't remember the last time someone said something like that to you, if at all. Tearing your gaze away from him, you’re met with the inability to shake the feeling of craving something you don't want to understand, mired in your own musings and for no particular reason but to avoid the desperation of confessing to yourself of the warm tight feeling inside your belly - you give into the temptation of placing your palm over the nightlight, watching the light turn from bright yellow to muted blue, it stings slightly. 

Too cheesy, you would groan out under any other circumstance where you hadn’t been so fazed.

Instead, you just gulp, eyes wide at his forward comment, his praise is the equivalent of being splashed with ice cold water when one is half asleep, now you're all wide eyed and incognisant of what's real and what isn't, it prompts a jolting sensation to traverse all throughout your body, "Thanks." 

This scene was no exception, Jisung tips his head back against his palms when he's thinking about something, while keeping his calm gaze posed on you, he smiles, rolling his eyes. “You’re too hard on yourself, loosen up just a little. I'm not always gonna be around.”

You muse that your mum said the exact same thing when you moved away for university but chose not to mention it, it's not true though, you want to say. Because Jisung is always there for you.

 See, the universe exists on this dreadful thread of balance  and you've been hanging on by your last finger for as long as you remember, taking every step on the basis of a fear of tumbling off to be greeted by the gasps and complaints of an imaginary audience, for the longest time, picturing  your play to be dissected like a lab rat, for a delirious critic to point their scalpel and announce, the misshapen heart is here, that's the pudgy head.

But nowadays and you'll never tell him this, when Jisung talks about you  like that, you almost believe it, believe in yourself and don't think he understands what it means to you, how grand that is  -  to imagine seeing your play come to life, something severely intimidating about watching it, spotlight gingerly kissing up the actors' newborn faces as the audience spews quiet comments, critics' expressions morphing with  nuanced understanding, the anticipation is tangible, the walls closing in by the second, tension squeezing the air out of their lungs -  until the curtains part and a story draws them into another world. Then everything falls into a formidable silence.The inexplicable feeling of being one wrapping its limbs around everyone and cradling them to its chest like a loving mother, awestruck strangers listening in on the heart wrenching dialogues, the belter of a riveting tragedy prompting their hearts to lurch forward and sit on their tongues, then they'll look around, spot bits of you in your characters and think I'm not alone. I never was.   (The people you've both never known but known your entire life.)

It's better to slip, to put everything on the line for the sake of making way to what you want on a feeling rooted deep inside your gut than to cower behind the fear of disapproval and have nothing at all. Being brave enough to tell your story is not the absence of that fear which keeps you, but it is telling the tale despite, toppling that fear.

There's something relieving about that theory.

 "I want to lie down..." You mewl, in spite of already lying down. It's a sign of how the constant toiling through exams was finally taking a toll on you, the sleepiness coupled with hours long lethargy from the party seemed to be weighing your body down, making your eyelids heavier by the second. He moves your hand, leaning into the light. A wash of colour is spreading  across his face for a brief moment, exposing the skin to scrutiny, all veins, curves and crinkles around his eyes. Jisung smiles at you. Your eyes dart all over his face, resting on the curve of his mouth briefly, then his eyes, you catch the yellow flickering in them , the brown turning to dark copper. 

Your heart drops to your stomach when he blinks away slowly, the disappointment assuaged by something foreign, dumb and utterly clichéd stirs in the pit of your stomach as his thumb briefly swipes across your knuckles,  "You don't say, sleepy girl!" Jisung scoffs, bringing his arm under his head.  

Unconsciously, entertaining the thought of staying alone in his room, you find yourself feeling safer because of his presence instead, divorced from prying eyes, "Thanks for staying." You say, wanting to talk to him more and more,  contemplating fashions  to contribute to the conversation again and again just to cut the silence.

"Well, you had a lot to drink." 

He reminds, as if the reason for his staying is that obvious;  worry laced in his voice and you understood why -   even though you aren't completely doused in a state of inebriation, you kept swaying all the way upstairs.

"But you missed out on.." you drag the consonant unintentionally, "all the fun, though."

"Do I look like I care?" Jisung snorts, staring up at the ceiling, leaning back on his hands and dropping down against the bed, he laces his fingers together over his chest, digging into his pocket and fishing out his phone. It isn’t a question.

His wallpaper is of a kid gazing up from the water, he peers up at the camera, grinning ear to ear. This is definitely Jisung. Because even with his front teeth missing, his smile is all too familiar. His cheeks were chubbier back then, face rounder, softer around the edges. Subconsciously, you rose a finger to poke at his cheek, as if to examine it. Jisung shoots you a glare.

"You were cute."

You coo, leaning onto his shoulder, the closeness should not intimidate you, given the amount of time you spend like this. But it does anyway.

"What do you mean were?” Jisung scoffs, “Nu-uh, still am. I'm the resident cutie pie, if you will."  He sings, narrowing his eyes briefly, thereon chuckling at the look of sheer disgust on your face. 

You wrinkle your nose, "I can't believe you just said that..." 

The rest of the night is spent in a comfortable quietude, except for the times when either of you perk up to initiate conversation and Jisung gives you aspirin for the throbbing migraine. 

Your shoulders are touching. Jisung breathes. Slowly. Then fast. Then slow. And then he tucks an earphone into your ear, it was an unspoken ritual you two practised when you were alone, oft in a different venue, sitting languidly about campus, while you read and he winked through the glaring sun to get a distant view of the landscape.

Jisung yawns, the grapple on his speech loosening and loosening.

You remain quiet, closing your eyes again. Words feel liquid in your mouth, letters wobbling on your tongue until you feel like you've lost complete control over what you're thinking of saying.

You can see the scene unfolding inside your head, can feel the earth under your skin, can hear birds chirping, can feel the dusty orange, morning glow kissing your faces. As if you're the only two people there. "Coldplay, right?" 

"Uh-huh..." Jisung replies, he sounds unsurprised by your aligned tastes. You look at him and find that he's mirroring you. His long lashes casting shadows on the apples of his cheeks, eyes clamped shut. 

"It's beautiful..." You murmur, dropping your head back against the mattress, you think Jisung hums in response but you can't be too sure. It's like you're slowly, slowly and slowly drifting far, far away. Letting slumber wrap its welcoming arms around you. 

For a second, you feel the weight on your shoulders lighten, you imagine that you're soaring, soaring, soaring, like you could look down and see the rivers and seas and lakes pulsing against the  Earth's body, as though they were a bundle of nerves belonging to a round, green vessel of a body, and somehow - then immediately, you're being pulled to your feet, at great speed, you're falling, falling, falling - so fast that you feel like there's a fire budding inside your lungs, budding under your fingertips, inside your heart. 

Then it begins.  This must be a dream, this must be a dream, this must be a dream. The soft murmur of scripted words. Parted curtains, an open window allowing you to stare in wonder, dusk stretching across the entirety of the landscape, blue, then pink. You think of the big sapphire sea, the warm sand and someone waiting for you before it.  You think, this is it. This is it. This is it. And run, run, run. Sprinting to the broadening view. You recognise the back of his head, the curve of his neck, tufts of raven hair fluttering about, his white cuffed shirt, his footsteps like a trail of breadcrumbs, feet dipped in frothy water, You call his name, surprised  but think I knew it, I knew it, I knew it all along. He looks back and smiles at you, offering you his hand. (You're not over him. You don't think you ever were. And this is what you want, you want it so bad, after all this time, are you going to hold back? Are you going to hold back? Are you going to hold back?)

Just for a moment, in the split of a second, just now,  just once, you aren't afraid. 

You jolt awake, the earphone straining against the sudden movement, "Hey." You whisper, looking up at him. His Adam's apple drops with a slow gulp, the rosy colour of his parted lips. The slope of his nose. You don't know when you  nuzzled your face into his chest, his long arm is draped around your waist, pulling you flush against his body.  Your heart is beating noisily in your ears, on your tongue. 

To your surprise, Jisung hums in response, eyes still clamped shut. You're so close, just so close, he brushes his slender fingers against the back of your neck, the touch feather light, as though reminding you that he had heard you. Your breath hitches inaudibly.

"Let's..." You say, with your tongue starting to limp inside your mouth, "go to the beach sometime."

...

A shower is running, loud, water gushing down and thumping against the tiles, the sound echoing and growing thinner by the second. 

You sit up on the empty bed, the recollection of last night lodged deep inside your head like a butcher knife. 

The realisation that you aren't at home isn't startling as you momentarily grow distracted in examining the room, the photos, the turntable, the white paint, the portraits, a light adjusted above, bits and pieces of a person scattered around.

Jisung's t-shirt is discarded carelessly on his reading table, your eyes widen when you acknowledge the occupant in the shower to be him, leaping up with a haste, everything comes back to you  with a force equivalent of pulling the butcher knife out and slamming it right back into your skull.

"It's you!" You gasp, partially  because the cheerful exclamation sends pangs of pain to your head, having made all the way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, only to find Minho whipping up pancake batter in a bowl. As opposed to his old Instagram photos, with the new complementing pink hair, his feline like features are even more staggering, eyes narrowed to amused slits, behind which beady black orbs stare you down in absolute curiosity.

"Right, we met last night." He reminds you, uttering your name quickly, finding that you already recognise him. He holds the spatula up, paused in surprise as if he really wasn't expecting to see you right now, the position only eases when you wave your hands dismissively and say it's not what you think.

  He smiles, there's a strange disappointed quality to the demand."Sit down, let's have breakfast."

It's awkward, Minho spares you a few interrogating stares while you silently dig at your meal, the sound of cutlery and ceramic sounding through the open kitchen. You wish Jisung would come down already if the floor beneath your feet isn't going to open up and swallow you whole to save you from this discomfiture.

"They're really good." You nod, shoveling more of the unevenly cut portions of the pancake into your mouth.

"Do you still have feelings for him?" 

You choke, coughing on the gigantic bite, patting your chest as you slowly as you begin to regain your composure. Minho's eyebrows are weaved upwards, hinting that he expected an answer despite offering you water. God, he cut right to the chase, you aren't used to people as blunt as that. When you don't say anything, he blinks at you, tilting his head to examine the evasive expression on your face.

"He talks about you a lot..." He notifies, as though it was an explanation for something.  Minho's arms are crossed over his chest, proudly before announcing, "I think I practically know everything about you."

Funny, you could say the exact same thing about him. Jisung likes to babble on about people he cares about, which albeit is a handful, you are just as special as any of them. And that reminder as a consequence of his constant prodding makes you a little angry. 

"Look, he doesn't like me if that's what you're trying to say." You blurt out, you don't want to get your hopes up.  It's weird saying something so grave to someone you only recently  came to know. Having already accepted your one sided feelings even though you struggle to try to suppress them and the hopeful part of you reasons that Jisung probably didn’t initiate a kiss because you weren’t exactly sober — but the real reason, and you know this, is that his withdrawal last night was just cherry on top of the  big fat I-don't-feel-the-same-way cake. 

You made the mistake of ruining your friendship because of a stupid confession in the past and you aren't going to make it again, not when you're closer than ever now.

"That's not what I asked."  Minho comments. He is pretty great at appearing intimidating. Or rather, he sees right through you. You can't tell. But he's practically cornered you with his witty questions whilst his perceptive eyes keep an intent watch on you.  Minho had a curious  quality to him when he looked at things, he seemed to notice everything.

You laugh nervously, rubbing your nape when his gaze is practically unblinking in anticipating a reaction. 

"How was your Gimpo trip?" You digress.

 Minho's ears perk up, his eyes blown to big, happy circles, he nods his head excitedly, properly distracted from pressing the previous topic further. 

The conversation fizzles away in a haze, Minho rambles on in a cheerful tone, his eyes glossed over in enthusiasm. He speaks  of his three cats and asks you to commit their names to memory with a dead serious face, moving onto ramble on about his childhood, an entanglement of being the only child who dreamed laboriously of pursuing a career in ballet and succeeded. You listen attentively, not breaking your focus even when he gets up to do the dishes. 

By the time Jisung lazily drapes a towel around his neck, all the while hopping down the stairs, you feel like you've overstayed, digging your feet into the heels from last night while Minho holds the door open for you. 

"Need a ride?" Jisung asks, standing on his toe to look at you from behind Minho. 

 You shake your head, suggesting that you were to take the subway instead, keeping your eyes fixated on your sore feet as a reminder that you're opting for the alternative not by choice but because you don't have the energy to render Sunwoo an explanation of where you'd spent the night at with his constant teasing, Tightening the strap around your leg, while balancing yourself with the free arm, Jisung's long fingers quickly grab onto the underside of your arm, letting you balance your weight whilst posing the question, "You’re coming tomorrow for the group study, right?" You ask.

 It was an uncharacteristic gesture, outright surprising, because of his renowned proficiency in that class, when Jisung suggested that he didn’t understand the volume of topics you were going over.

Jisung glances cautiously at his best friend, who has a stupid smirk on his face for some reason, like he knows something you don't, “Yeah, yeah...” He says, reaching out to pinch your cheek despite your complaint. 

“Are you an alligator?” he calls out, prompting you to shoot a confused look over your shoulder.  "What?"

It's just one of those things Jisung says instinctively, his eccentric humour getting the best of him in silences and you, well, you walked right into this one. 

 "You know...cause I'll see you later!" 

In your peripheral vision, you spot Minho pinching the bridge of his nose at the quip, muttering a quick Jesus Christ.

...

During the day, the portrait is much more confusing. 

It's carefully placed on the paper covered floor, the room smells like fresh paint and sweat. Jisung suggested that you go paint shopping in the  pursuit of looking for a suitable colour to liven up his walls and the end of the semester meant you had enough time to put the purchased product to use. 

There is a blob of red on Jisung's jaw and the colour gets smudged all the way to his cheekbone when he makes an unsuccessful attempt to itch the skin with the back of his palm. You don't tell him this. 

"I bought it from the local display." He breathes out exasperatedly, the paint roller is placed on the paper, "The artist said it was about an unlikely romance or something like that. Looked pretty dope to me too and—"

 "I don't get it." You cock your head to the side and investigate the painting at your feet with an obstinate want to understand how it's supposed to depict love. Or anything that bears semblance to it, you never did have a good eye for art,  "It just looks like they slapped on paint."

 "Look here, dummy!" He slaps your pointer finger jokingly, grumbling under his breath.  Taking your palm and slowly splaying out the digits. Traces the rough pads against its silky texture, a map to somewhere, a blend of blue and pink, silhouettes reaching out for each other when the world intends to tear them apart. 

You sigh, contentedly and think this must be it; because never was love  meant to be understood. 

It was meant to be felt. 

...

"Why do you have that dumb look on your face?"

 Sunwoo speaks, chewing through his snack, his fringe is glued to his forehead in a thick layer of sweat. You aren't surprised. The humidity is skyrocketing. A cut in your salaries have made you compromise the use of your obsolete air conditioner. It's a terribly humid Sunday morning and you're getting ready for a trip to Minho's beach house.

It wasn't hard to convince you. Such was possible because Minho's offer was reiterated through a number of ways and people over the span of last week. Even from Sunwoo. 

He and the rest of the boys have started  to get along pretty well, so well that you often end up acting as an amused spectator, simply watching the boys cosying up to one another while you're effectively camouflaging in the background of utter silence. Your friends  teamed up to produce quips here and there, stopping to chuckle into their napkins, cheeks rubicund like ripe apples whenever you went out for dinner. It was becoming a regular occurrence, at this point. Not that you minded; you genuinely enjoy the time you spend together.

As a final move, Jisung reminded you of your slurred request of wanting to go to the beach, beating the purpose of you claiming you wanted to stay home doing nothing when really you were just looking to avoid encouraging how you felt for him. You constantly found yourself suppressing the desire to want more and the last few weeks had been the toughest because you had trouble ignoring how you felt although you were careful not to show it. Jisung was spending more time with you than usual since you were on summer break and were relieved of your studies for a short while. You couldn't forget that night at his place, the memory made your gut wrench in a desire you couldn't fulfill. 

But  while it was hard being around him, you just knew you couldn't help it.

The trip was, nonetheless, a reminder of how Jisung always gets what he wants, even if it is as easy as snagging his favourite items off of the super store shelf or something which demands  more patience to be possessed, something that needs to be drawn out with unwavering persistence.  

Come to think of it, you never really understood what it means to live like that. 

"What dumb look?" You ask, averting your gaze from your phone, twiddling your thumbs for a response to Jisung's text notifying that they were taking the lead on the journey by setting off earlier than you to set up the place.

 It won't take them as long as it will for you because it's a familiar premise for them. Your arm is starting to hurt from holding up your suitcase.

Sunwoo mimics a grin, stretching the corners of his lips awkwardly and flattening his lips like that of a frog, a string of dried milk sits on his chin to finish off the impression. He points to his face, "This one."

 "I don't know what you're talking about." You roll your eyes, "Hurry up. Jisung messaged me the location." 

Sunwoo nods, then pauses, then his eyes widen, a teasing grin making  its way on his face, insinuating that he finally understood why you packed chocolate cake last minute in spite of you not having a particular preference for the item. "Does he know you have a big puppy crush on him?"

Sunwoo makes up for your social ineptness, amongst other things, and there are times when you don't understand what you'd do without him, times when you're relieved he's your friend even though you're essentially opposites - now is, certainly, not one of those times, now you wish he wasn't so close to you  to have access to this information without telling. 

"Are you hearing yourself? I don't have a crush on him." You lie, glaring at him, when your flatmate ducks his head to display that he didn't quite agree, you groan, 

"I don't!"

…

"Do you take me for an idiot?"

Sunwoo pulls his sunglasses down to pretend to study you, his big brown eyes scrutinising you from head to toe.  The  strong stink of diesel is still emanating  in the air in spite of the image of the gas station being wiped out long ago in your peripheral vision. You kind of like it, it contributes to boosting the anticipation of what was to happen when you reach your destination .

"Oh absolutely..." Sunwoo says, driving in the direction of the beach house the GPS pilots him to, Lauv hums faintly from the dusty speakers, the familiar lyrics filling the air  whilst you unconsciously bobbed your head. The vague distraction allowed Sunwoo to buy time to gather his thoughts, 

 "You need to tell him how you feel before someone else does. You need to tell him how you feel, period."

“I'm not doing that again.” you warn him, he speeds down the highway, your beach hat threatening to fly about under the weight of your hands at the sudden gush of wind. "Need I remind you how it went last time?" 

"Last time was different." 

"How?" 

"You barely even spoke to each other!" He exclaims frustratedly, pointing out the obvious, "Now you're good friends and he seems to feel the same way considering he always puts up with you...like...voluntarily." Sunwoo mocks, looking at the corner of his eye to note that you're rolling your eyes in annoyance, "Maybe Jisung's out of his mind."

"I'm not that bad!" You defend, quieting down once again when the memory of your admission flashes before your eyes in vivid details - the years of distance and silence that stretched between you because of it was hard - if that were to repeat itself now, when you're more used to him that you were before, you don't think you could bear it.  Or maybe you could but you don't want to.

It's enough to just have Jisung around and not be yours than to lose him by admitting.

"I'm not putting us in that position again just because of how I feel. It's kinda selfish, don't you think?" Your statement has a touch of finality to it that shuts Sunwoo right up, he wordlessly pulls up in front of the huge beach house, another jeep and the Comet Convertible is parked; before which far off near the shore, you couldn't help but notice the two unfamiliar figures by the boys, one of them is wearing a bikini, standing incredibly close to Minho, who's setting up their small grill, the other (and it makes your stomach turn) is talking animatedly to Jisung, he nods and smiles in that way that makes you think you'll never quite stop loving him. Chan is holding up his phone to take a picture. 

 Sunwoo honks loudly,  pulling you out of your trance. You can hear the I told you so sitting on the tip of his tongue when he shoots you a look of pity. You don't like it. The way that makes you feel like a toddler who can't keep herself from sticking her fingers into electric sockets in spite of being precisely instructed not to. Now, you think, the ‘I told you’ so would've been much more agreeable to your pathetic but injured emotions.

Jisung snaps his head around fast, raising his lithe digits to the air, waving at you languidly.  The girl spectates the exchange in an engrossed fashion, slowly routing her inquiring  gaze to yours in thought. Not all that seemed black and white is black and white between you.

"Are you coming?" Jisung screams over the noise and distance, away from the spot you're completely frozen in.  

(A pang in your chest tightens. Tightens. Tightens.  And you don't want it to mean something. But it does. It does and it always will.)

...

Minho once learned to set up tepee fires in scout camp, with twigs, a small heap of leaves, wood shavings and loosely screwed newspaper in the centre. Now, he only prides his younger self for setting up the fire once in their backyard and decides roasting marshmallows on the grill demands less of the expertise that he's lost overtime.

"I've actually heard a lot about you before we met." Sunwoo garbles out, clearing his throat.

You've been ignoring Jisung ever since you arrived. Now the group is sat down on the sand, in a misshapen circle, the two girls, now you know their names and the root of their invitation - Junhee and Shoshanna are merely bypassers the boys met when they arrived this morning. They're on a weekend trip like you and their visiting resident is a few houses away from yours. You wanted to act on your peevishness  and groan out a loud What are they still doing here?  everytime Shoshanna took the seat beside Jisung or asked him to set her marshmallows but that would, amongst other things, make you look like a crazy jealous idiot who has no right to step into a situation of that sort, even though Jisung seemed hesitant, cautiously looking at you every now and then. 

Jisung's brows rise and fall, gaze darting between you and your flatmate, surprised, "Is that right?"

Sunwoo laughs, "Yeah."  He chews carefully, trying not to choke, as if the source of his knowledge doesn't need to be pointed out. 

"Only good things I hope."

Skeptical, Jisung glances at you with a cocked brow, in case you oppose but you avoid his gaze, glaring down at charred marshmallow on the tip of the stick and thinking of ways to strangle Sunwoo, who chuckles at the former's apparent doubt, furrowing his eyebrows in bemusement, "Only good things."

"You're on the varsity swim team, right?" 

 With a mouthful of food, Sunwoo poses the question, the grin only widens when Jisung replies with an equally enthusiastic nod. 

"Did you know that this one can't swim?" He points his marshmallow stick at you, keeping his eyes trained on Jisung's surprised face. "I tried to  provide assistance." Sunwoo insists, "But when someone is really bad around water, like screaming at the top of their lungs-I'm going to drown in a kid's pool- bad, it's quite a challenging task."

Minho produces an animalistic laugh at this, patting his thigh like he's rendered a vivid image of your embarrassing experience while Chan shoots you a concerned look, as if sensing an underlying tension in the air that the others can't. You don’t know which one you dislike more.

"I can hear you, you know!"  You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Suddenly having lost your appetite. 

Sunwoo widens his eyes, with a hand atop his chest, mocking you,  "Really?"

You open your mouth to continue bickering with him because it was the only way you could hold yourself back from jumping across the sand and grabbing him by his collar in case that should stop him from further embarrassing you, but Jisung  interjects, blinking inquisitively at you.

 Jisung pouts. "It isn't that bad, you'll see, we can go for a swim anytime. That's what's the pool for anyway."

"Sungie,  I could use a swim now. Can we go, please?"  Shoshanna piped up jutting her lip in a way that made her more attractive, she hooked her arm with Jisung, pulling him to her side and he simply blinked at her, surprised by the gesture. Only you called him that  —  when did she pick that up? Why doesn't Jisung seem to mind at all? Are you seriously seeing what you are definitely seeing?

 Without meaning to, you imagine them floating about in the water, while she curled her arms around his neck to keep balance and him leaning down to grin invitingly.  And it feels like you're losing something.

You feel yourself jumping up to your feet. The sudden movement gains the attention of all your friends except Sunwoo, who keens on sparing you the smug grin which insinuates that he sparked the entire conversation intentionally.  You hope the universe would miraculously  render you telepathic powers so he'd start to choke on the stupid marshmallow. 

"Uh...I mean...I gotta." You gulp, "I'm going to go grab a beer."

"Wait."

Jisung frees his arm to get to his feet, powdery sand dusted off of his sweats.

"I'll come with you."

You walk in silence, wrapping your arms around yourself. In your peripheral, you catch the sight of his pockets swelled around the area he stuck his fingers in, you don't think Jisung's ever been that quiet. It makes you feel guilty. You're acting out because you simply can't get a grip and it seems to have taken a toll on him. You want to punch yourself in the face.

 It's not like you desire to stand in the way of his merry-making, it had to happen eventually, right? Jisung is free to get involved with whoever he pleases. He doesn't know how you feel and even if he did, you don't think he would reciprocate. 

And despite everything, your heart still aches for him. 

"Why are you avoiding me?" Jisung  tells you. There's a sadness to his voice that supplies that you can't escape this conversation because you simply cannot stand it when something prevents him from being his happy-go-lucky self. But you can delay it. 

You pull the fridge open slowly, scanning the items, alcohol, milk and a few other things that are necessary to spend the weekend. They definitely were newly bought. 

 Jisung pushes the fridge door wider, sighing, he pulls a can and hands it to you. "If this is about the girls, I'm not-"

"You don't have to explain it to me, Sungi—I mean, Jisung." You stare down at the perspiration collecting between your fingers and  the can, then set it down immediately in fear of it slipping out of your hands. Jisung stiffens at the transition, a faint look of pain flashing in his eyes. What did he do that is so wrong? 

You feel horrible for making him feel bad, aren't you supposed to be an adult? Aren't you supposed to have a strong grapple on your emotions? This isn't good for the two of you, you don't want to hurt him because of how you feel, Jisung needs you to be his friend and you can't accept, even after so long, that that's all you are to him. 

 "I don't think we should be friends anymore."

"What?" He purses his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. "Why?" He provides, raking a frustrated hand through his hair when your mouth parted instead of giving him an answer. "Did I do something? You could have just talked to me about it but..." He muttered shakily, repeating, "Why...this?"

Jisung glares at you, he looks so clueless, angry, blatantly hurt and  it's such a selfish thing to ask of him, the least you can do is be honest with him, though you couldn't fight the annoyance from seeping into your tone because he apparently had not a clue. 

"God, don't you see it?!" You placed a warm hand against your forehead, "I'm...in love with you...I love you, okay?"

You start to panic when the tense expression melts into his  features, replaced by something you couldn't put a finger on, "Don't get me wrong, I don't expect you to reciprocate or anything. It's stupid, I thought I was over you but I'm…I'm not. And I can't...I can't watch you get on with someone who isn't me, especially when…" you trail, preparing to admit the truth to yourself once and for all, "...you don't already love me back. I can't...It'll hurt too much…" 

"So...I think...it's better for the two of us to not continue this friendship anymore." You gulp, your palms shaking by your sides, those words have been taking refuge inside you for too long and saying them makes you feel empty, like you've lost something that keeps you grounded and you'd be aimlessly floating about for the rest of your life. 

"I know I'm asking for too much…"

Jisung interrupts you with a wry laugh, the sound startling you. He never spoke to you that way, not even when you argued before.

"Yeah, you're right, you are."

"Well, I'm sorry."  You breath out. 

He leans closer so your hip presses against the cool counter. He drags his fingers from the exposed skin of your collarbone to your neck, tilting your chin up with his thumb while the remaining digits splay against  your throat, "Sorry doesn't cut it." 

 The kiss sends a chill down your spine, prompting you to straighten up from your slumped position. Your knees feel like jelly, like they could collapse any minute. Jisung deepens the kiss, grazing his teeth along your bottom lip, he props you up on the counter and you sense yourself wrapping your legs around his waist, tugging on to his hair to draw out a groan from him; touching him feels so surreal, even though it's a reminder of just how real everything that's happening is. 

"I…" he breathes heavily, "I love you. I'm in love with you. I didn't know what to do with how I felt and seeing you again...it just made me realise that I couldn't ignore it anymore. There were times when I couldn't help myself, I felt like I needed to see you when I couldn't, so I did, even if it meant I had to lie. I love taking care of you. I love our dumb inside jokes and I love the way we can't go long without talking. Hell, I love everything we do together." He chuckles, "But I didn't say anything because you told me you were over it. I... just assumed you were only interested in being friends with me." You don't think you've properly registered the sentences, maybe it's the suddenness of it all, maybe it's because you've never actually pictured this. You told yourself, this is how it's supposed to be, that Jisung was never supposed to feel the same. Just with that alone, you had axed your own foot, screwed yourself over more than anyone else did.

Jisung's face breaks into a sudden grin, he pecks your pouted mouth. "But I'm glad I was wrong." 

"Did you just kiss me?" You joke, touching his face, tracing your fingers against his cheeks, the skin glossy and pinkish under the touch, his pupils are blown to large black circles, the brown in them barely visible. 

"I don't know, did I?" Jisung deadpans, narrowing his eyes jovially. 

 He eases into the embrace when you slump against him in a tight hug. The chuckle comes out all muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"Hmmm, can't be too sure."

You wrap your arms around his neck, it's like you just can't stop smiling. When you think about it, that's what being around Jisung was like, really. Your digits traverse from the side of his jaw to cup his cheeks, eyes peering into his. You watch as he blinks incredulously, there's something impatient about the way you look at him. Then you tilt your head and kiss him, gathering a faint taste of chapstick whilst your tongue prodded at his bottom lip. 

A low moan thrums against his chest, his mind failing to produce a single coherent thought. Because, God, he knows exactly what you're doing. 

This time the gesture is needy, desperate, as though to convey a strong desire to be completely consumed by him,  to be ruined by him. You raise your hips to brush against his lower abdomen, eliciting a low groan from his throat. 

"Baby not here." He breathes out, gauging your intention whilst resting his forehead atop yours. His palm traces the skin of your thighs, travelling up your sides, a free hand which rests at your neck coming to rest at your jaw. His delicate thumb journeys upwards, tugging your bottom lip out and then slowly retracting the digit. Somehow, the gesture makes his eyes darken even more, if that's possible. "Let's go upstairs."

You're so breathless and shocked and have your head stuck way  so far up  up in the clouds that the statement sounds imperceivable. "What?" You blink dumbly, with your hands on his shoulders.

A husky laugh made reverberates inside his chest, "We can’t...here."

As if on cue, you whimper needily at the weight of the implication. The thought of what is to unfold upstairs making your throat close up. You understood the purpose of his statement, the rest of the boys would soon gather into the beach house because it was getting dark soon, the sky was gargling its throat in the distance too, it would rain and neither of you were keen on PDA.

Jisung's teeth graze along your throat, his fingers around it to keep your head pressed to the door while your thighs are snuggly bracketed around his lithe waist. His need is apparent when he grinds up into your body. You're all but putty under his touch.

It's dark. But you can still make out how absent the room's paraphernalia is, just a bed which is stripped to the bare essentials of a white blanket and scratchy sheet, giving away the fact that visits aren't made too often. You don't care about all that though, Jisung pushes you back against the mattress, pulling his shirt over his head before resuming his position on top of you. 

You can't understand how you kept away from him for so long. 

...

Between your short, bitten and misshapen fingernails, the word Premiere reads on the tickets  in bold red slanted letters. 

You can't believe what was once a figment of your imagination, a rubbish script you wrote whimsically on too much caffeine and too little sleep was going to unfold right before your eyes.

It's crowded inside the subway, you stare at the heads, faces, shirts, jackets, arms and legs and your heart is beating too loud, like you ran a marathon or drove a sports car way past its speed limit, rammed it into a tree and flipped it over.

 All the world's a stage and all men and women merely players.

(You should be scared, you should be scared, you should be scared.)

 Delicate, lithe fingers quickly travel down your palm to squeeze the tense digits at the end, his free hand is rubbing circles on the back of your neck; you stare into those brown eyes and without really thinking, press a quick kiss to his pouting lips, it's difficult, he keeps grinning against your mouth but you pay little attention to those things now. 

"That was a good move, champ." Jisung winks briefly, tracing his thumb along your cheek as he nuzzles his nose against yours, "You always kiss people on the subway?"

You grin, with a slow shake of your head, "Just the hot ones."

(This is a stage. And the passengers are waiting. The Tale Of Two Cities. The couple. The mother. Like that nightmare you used to have. 

But, you think, it doesn't matter now. It doesn't matter anymore. 

Because you've got your silver lining.)

[vampireacademysims]

Let's make this a 2-in-1 thing since usually I post this kind o stuff on my reblogs tumblr. But I'll breathe a bit of life into this one, while I'm still working in gathering stuff to post... maybe in September? Aaaaanyway....

MUSIC MEME

I was tagged by @blackswan-sims and @redsimmer-blog. Thank you!

Rules: We’re snooping your playlist! Put your entire music library on shuffle and list the first 10 songs and then choose 10 people.

Hymn for the weekend - Coldplay

The Pirate's Bride - Sting

Summer Wine - Ville Valo & Natalia Avelon

I don't love you - My Chemical Romance

Rewrite the Stars - Zac Effron & Zendaya

Memory - Elaine Paige (Cats)

Would I lie to you - Charles & Eddie

Neverending Story - Limahl

Fire Alarms - Ed Sheeran

Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood

I won't be tagging anyone because everyone I follow has done this one already.... maybe @veninorchid wants to give it a shot? XD

And then @episims tagged me in this question thing she got, and she must be a witch because what I'm about to say I said it to like a friend last friday XD

Hi! Random ask but what was your most memorable music concert you've been to? With all these music asks/memes posts, I'm genuinely curious! (if you like, maybe tag some people?) ^^

Like I told my friend, I don't like concerts much. Why? Because I’m short and a tall person ALWAYS make a must of parking right in front of me and I get to see diddly-squat. And almost never they let me get in front of them, although they can perfectly see over my head. It has happened in 95% of all the concerts I’ve gone to. I’m saying open air non-seated concerts here, I’ve only been to sitting music halls twice in my life. Then there’s drunk people, beer cups sloshing all around and people screaming singing every.single.song by your ear while they sound like they’re skinning a cat alive. I still have tinnitus from my very first concert (I was 14) and no one had told me that standing so close to the speakers for two hours was a very, VERY bad idea. Not that I go to many concerts anyway – 4 years of Queima das Fitas in University doesn’t count – because when a singer/band I like come to my country, they almost always go to our capital and I live far away from it and can’t go. I live in an ass-crack in the country-side. But back to the subject. My most memorable concert was the very last I went to, back in July 2017 to see Sting. I’ve grown up listening to his music and when I heard that he was coming to a festival close-ish to me, I really wanted to go. I had to see the man live at least once in my life before he died and I’d never had the chance again. I mentioned it in FB, that was I going to try and get a ticket and that I’d go alone if I had to. To my surprise, my Uni twin-bro, my brother from another mother, told me to not get a ticket because I had gotten one for me as a present and he’d go with me. It was a wonderful gift from him. So I traveled to the city, met with him and one of my Uni half-nieces (long University story lol) who was going too. We even got a nice spot because we got there early. I thought Sting would play songs from his newest album at the time, (57th & 9th), because I wasn’t very familiar with it but, to my utter delight, he stuck to all his solo hits and some hits of his time with The Police. Man, that was AMAZING! All the songs I knew and loved, a total best-of concert. During “Message in a Bottle”, a boat on the river beside the concert area started flashing its search lights or something to the stage lol But, the best part was the finale. It was past midnight already, Sting leaves the stage for like 3 minutes, all goes dark and then he comes back and starts playing “Fragile”. In the song the lyrics go “On and on the rain will fall/ Like tears from a star / On and on the rain will say / How fragile we are” and it freggin’ starts to lightly rain! What an epic finale, it was magical, considering how hot and sunny it had been during the whole day. Sounds like nothing much, but it was good music, good company and I hadn’t been to a concert for years before that one. It’s a lovely memory. Tagging: @mdpthatsme, @esotheria-sims, @veninorchid, @skyburned, @redsimmer-blog, @goatskickin, @yakumtsaki, @yandereplumsim and that's enough lol No pressure to do it tho, as always :)

And bellow is the section of Photos or it Didn't Happen! lol I'll give you a bit of the concert with a video too.

That's his son Joe on the far right, he made the first part of the concert as he's a singer too and then came back to chorus for his father.

[mydayserenade]

My Dear Starlight

Yunho x OC

rom, angst, fluff (???)

first time playing around w/ this kind of genre so apologies if its shitty

i suggest listening to Fix You by Coldplay cause it will definitely send you to sad hours while reading

"Do you remember the last time we went star-gazing? It was the night before I eventually confessed to you, we were lying on the grass and I was pretty much sleep deprived and alongside handling an empty stomach that was growling" he said and chuckled, reminiscing the sweet moment ever so vividly like it happened just yesterday. Yunho took his attention off the sky and watched silently as his fiance gaze the starry night without even noticing him staring at her like she was the brightest thing to ever exist as of the moment, which has always been a thing for them to do to each other... but mostly Yunho.

"I do dummy, can you believe it has been 5 years since then? Time flies so fast" Luna responded, leaning towards her right side to get a closer look at Yunho's visuals "And now here we are, engaged and a few months away from officially tying the knot." she giggled, toying with the necklace that he gave to her during their first anniversary and looked back at the night once more to admire it; the moon dawned on them like a bright spotlight, the sky was as blue as the deep sea, complimenting the shining stars that laced the sky, telling tales of long lost lovers which completed the visually angelic twilight that these two would share for hours.

Yunho looks over to his paramour with the endearment in his doey eyes and smiles ever so sweetly as she laid beside him, interlocking hands with one another and her hair that sprawled like beautiful waves; in a swift move he sits himself up and props Luna to lay down on his chest. Luna responds in a squeak, shocked by the sudden gesture her fiance did.

"Whenever you miss me" Yunho broke the silence between them and rested his cheek on the head of his soon-to-be Mrs. Jeong, she flinches as she felt his warm arms wrap around her chest, feeling his heartbeat going at a slow but steady pace.

"Um, where are you going with this?" she asked confusingly as Yunho snuggled on her neck, inhaling the delicate perfume that he oh so loved whenever she would put it on; he breathes in the intoxicating fragrance and lets out a satisfied sigh before he continued.

"It's just an intrusive thought" he replied and continued to snuggle, "but whenever you miss me while I'm away or when I suddenly get called by the House of Hufflepuff" he said jokingly in the last part, receiving a slap on the arm by her and continued on. "Look up at the night sky and think of me. My mom always told me that I had a special connection with celestial things most especially stars. I thought it was just nonsense she shared with me as a teenager but as I got older and took into consideration the feelings I had and enviroment or situations I was in, I did notice a few things that made me convinced that my mom was indeed right about her speculations." Luna was bewildered, all she could do was laugh. This was the first time she has ever heard of this story from Yunho considering the fact they've been together for 5 years, 24/7, 365 and he would often share his most atrocious memories; even his embarassing ones. She looked up at Yunho who was looking straight at her, showing how perplexed she was by her furrowed brows and confused grin.

"So you're telling me, God decided to make your bloodline 40% human and 60% celestial and as you age the more you feel connected with these things, will somehow tingle in your bones and signal you to shoot supernovas out of your hands like Starfire or some shit whenever it's nightime?" she asks.

"You're phrasing it like it's a crazy Sci-Fi movie Luna, I wasn't even finished." Yunho eyerolls and massages the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh of annoyance. Luna enjoyed teasing him and seeing him all fired up; even if Yunho had a fierce exterior that people would be afraid of approaching, only few knew his childish side and how young at heart he was for things that he loved and took interest in.

"Go on continue, I was just annoying you." she giggles at the sight of him pouting and scrunching up his nose, Yunho takes a deep breath before he proceeds to the next.

"Eversince I was a little boy and when there were times where I had no one to play around with" Yunho looks up at the stars and grows a grin on his face as he points upward "they were always my companion and relate to how I was feeling. Whenever I felt happy, it would always blink at me, become bigger in size and blind me with its light; however when I felt sad, it would always shrink and release very little light. It would sometimes respond to the many queries I had and decisions by its blinking, it somehow felt like I had a mood lamp with me everywhere I go." he crooks his head to the right, scoffing at the many memories of him that flashed in his mind. "Even if I had no one to talk to at that time, as crazy as it sounds, the stars comforted me in a way that is unexplainable."

"It felt like someone understood the things you were going through like no one else has, almost as if you had an alternate you up in the galaxies." Luna looked up at how Yunho admired each white dot with the happiness in his eyes, looking so astonished like a little kid who just visited a candy store for the very first time. She now understood the many moments where he would suddenly look up the sky while driving, walking or even eating and just stare for seconds before eventually returning to what he was doing, almost as if he was thanking the heavens above or checking up on them like they were part of his family.

"You understand now? Whenever that time comes, just look up and I'm there." He whispers in Luna's ear, hands interlocking with hers and giving her a soft kiss on the head. Luna couldn't help but tear up by the gentle gesture Yunho did, the tale he had told and the thought of not seeing him for even a second. He was her rock and she was his, not a day would go by if they did not see each other in between the hours.

"I do Yunho, I do." she sits up and faces Yunho, cupping his face with her warm hands with Yunho gently caressing it and gives him a gentle kiss on the lips.

6 years later...

"I'm here" Luna whispered, standing in the middle of the silent and deserted park which was quiet enough to hear her; holding onto her precious necklace, she looked up the sky, admiring the white dots that scattered the sky. The stars were a bit different from normal, they were shining and twinkling more and more, almost as if it was calling out to her in morse code.

"You should really try and hide your excitement to a bare minimum, see this is why I never planned any surprise parties with you" she scoffed and sat down on the grass, closing her eyes and completely taking in the midnight breeze that brushed against her skin and blew on her hair. She lets out a sigh and toyed with the golden chain that was entangled on her fingers, feeling every abrasion and imperfection this necklace presented.

"You're probably wondering why I am here at 3 am in the morning" she said, fluttering her eyes to a vast field with streetlights surrounding it, "Awww man" Luna laughed, "You're most likely gonna kill me if I went out especially in this hour, well truth be told Mr. Jeong; are you battling me now with this cold gust of wind you blow?"

No one responds.

"I thought so too." she said under her breath as she hangs her head down, taking a deep breath before she continued to talk.

"I came here because I couldn't really sleep well these past few days and" she starts to choke up, sniffling and trying her absolute best to not break down, that's the last thing he would want Luna to do... especially in a time like this. "I don't know" she shrugs, rubbing her hands on her face. "I've been in my head too much, I've been emotionally unstable for the first time in a long time and I'm just" she suddenly pauses while a million thoughts circulates her mind. She urged herself to keep a strong and stable state for the past 6 years in front of friends and family, always say she was doing alright and all but deep down inside she was suffering the greatest loss of all and couldn't even bare to hold it in any longer.

"Yunho I'm so so so sorry" she lets out her tears, hysterically wailing on the field. She clutches her heart, completely lost her sense of reality and just wanted to scream out the pain and tiredness she has been holding on for the past few years, hiding behind a facadé so that people around her would not have to feel the burden that she might put on them. The countless nights of tear stained pillows and fake happy days were all weeped away at this night, she looks up at the skies; frozen and chanting swear words like a maniac.

"I'm sorry for not noticing sooner how much you suffered on the inside, for being such an asshole to you during those times and for not being enough of a friend and wife to you." she whimpered, losing all her might to prop herself up. In a graceful fall she lands on the grass, curled up, shiverring and clutching her knees amidst the cold breeze and moist grass under her.

"I'm a terrible person, I'm a fucking disgrace, and yet somehow I still exist in this world when it should've been you who is still alive. I tried my best to not worry you every night by saying I was doing okay, that I was living good and this and that, but for the past few days..." she closes her eyes and squeezes the pendant with her palm as tears streamed endlessly down her cheeks, "The wave of guilt just hit me harder than ever and I honestly am not so sure I can carry on this shameful life that only keeps me breathing."

From the day she knew up until his deathbed, Yunho never wanted Luna to see him at his worst neither did he want her to struggle and pity him, but his condition allowed Luna to see her beloved slowly succumb bit by bit. As much as she wanted to help him; he would always brush it off, plaster on his dimpled smile and please her in the best of his abilities and strength even if his state wasn't the way it was before. He did not want Luna to regret the moments she had with him and only fill her memories with the pain that he had felt and the hardships he's going through. She didn't agree to any of his ordeals but he had tried and persuaded her to commit to his wishes, in the end however; it would only lead to many arguements and her cursing him out. Eventually she caved in and did the best she could to seize the days, nights and hours with the presence of her one and only love yet deep down inside she was guilty of not helping with his condition and wanted to cater to his medical needs even if she had to travel miles away to get what he asks for.

"I respected your wishes, I carried on the many months with you with a positive outlook and a cheery personality. I was happy during those times I'll admit, because I was by your side everyday until the last second of you breathing, but at the back of my mind I knew I should've gone against what you wanted me to do and assist to your needs." she runs her hand through her hair, fuming at the thought of herself not doing her part during the days of Yunho's struggles. "You told me that I shouldn't feel guilty as this isn't my fault that you were diagnosed with this and it isn't my business to meddle around something like this, but goddamnit Yunho" she breathes uncontrollably as tears yet again pools in her eyes "I'm your fucking wife! I'm your best friend! I have been with you for as long as I can remember and I have made a vow to you that I'm gonna take care of you and nurture you when needed until our hair turns gray and we are all wrinkled." She bursts into annoyance and disappointment. None of what she did made perfect sense to her, all she wanted was to cry and rewind time so that she can make up for the past mistakes she's done and the many regrets she wanted to be erased in her mind. Luna didn't have the energy to continue on and she just lied in the grass, sprawled out and cried until her lungs gave out. She felt pain, she felt disappointment, she felt useless, she felt defeated.

A blinding light then hovers over Luna's exhausted and tearstained body, at first she did not mind this but as the light lingered on her for how many minutes now, she was irritated to this God-like halo that did not want to leave her be. She then slowly opens her eyes and was immediately welcomed to a soft, bright and white light that the moon shined on her, way different from the previous. The stars then aligned, creating a mystical ceiling that somehow calmed Luna's nerves and distract her away from her thoughts, it shined excitingly but twinkled in a calm matter. Luna was in awe at how much beauty the sky emmited, she had completely felt relaxed and wiped the tears that streamed down her face. She goes on to bask under the moonlight and stars, breathing in and out and feeling liberated and worry-free, something she has never felt ever since Yunho was put to rest.

"Now I truly understand what you meant." she mumbled, feeling lighter than ever. Luna then proceeds to put back her shoes on and did a flying kiss to the air multiple times before she left the park. "I think I know what I need to do now." she smiled and took a deep breath.

"Thank you for giving me something I never believed in but eventually found myself with you, love." she sighs lovingly as she gets up and moves towards her car. She takes one last look at the stars and glances down the necklace she has been holding. "Thank you for tonight, see you soonest, my dear starlight."

[popentertainment-moviereviews]

LISTENING TO KENNY G (2021)

Featuring Kenny G, Clive Davis, James Gardiner, Ben Ratliff and Will Layman.

Directed by Penny Lane.

Distributed by HBO. 96 minutes. Not Rated.

Screened at the 2021 Philadelphia Film Festival.

It must be kind of a weird to be Kenny G.

He is a man who has worked hard at his craft to become incredibly successful. He has sold 75 million albums and had multiple hit singles. He is the best-selling instrumental artist in history. He was intimately responsible for the creation of an entirely new musical style (smooth jazz). He has traveled the world, played sold out concerts and been able to sustain a career for almost 40 years. His song stylings are so distinctive that most people will be able to know it is him as soon as his music is put on. He even is in The Guinness Book of World Records for the longest sustained musical note played on the saxophone. (47 minutes!)

Yet, he has found such musical ubiquity that a backlash formed. He is in a select group – together with artists like Nickelback and Coldplay – where many people see his name as a punchline. For as many people who love his music (and there are fewer of those now than in his heyday in the 80s and 90s), there are just as many people who actively hate his playing. He is not jazz, they rail, just soft blowing chintz and lace – musical wallpaper.

It is to the point where when there is finally a documentary made about his life and his career, about half of it has to deal with the fact that he is greatly looked at as a joke. Even the talking head experts recruited to discuss his music and its effect on the world are not particularly fans of his work and are quite open about that fact. They discuss such issues as cultural appropriation, imitation versus than innovation, programmed sometimes perfunctory performances and sheer musical shallowness or laziness.

What did a nice Jewish kid from Seattle named Kenny Gorelick, who never even planned on becoming a professional musician (he good-naturedly acknowledges here that he went to school to become an accountant) do to deserve this kind of indignity?

He became extraordinarily famous.

For the record, I have never been a big Kenny G fan, however I thought some of his songs were pretty and could acknowledge that the man had some talent as a saxophonist. I have also never quite understood why his detractors had such a hate on for him. It wasn’t necessarily my type of music, but I respect that other people love it. Everyone has their own musical tastes. There is a place in the world for a Kenny G.

Luckily, from the evidence of this film, Kenny G seems to be in on the joke. He seems to be a truly nice, quiet, giving, good-natured man who is rather shocked by his own success. He doesn’t take the adulation too much to heart, nor does he take the take the criticism overly personally. He understands how he is seen – both for good and for bad – and he mostly seems to have it in perspective.

This perspective can also point out what many of the critics dislike about the guy. He admits here that he can’t necessarily say he is a music fan; he considers himself a craftsman. He believes in hard work and becoming the best you can be at something – whether that thing is flying, golfing (both of which he acknowledges he is as passionate about as music), investing (as if he didn’t have enough money, he was one of the early investors in Starbucks) or being a musician.

In fact, the part of his music which he personally appears to be most proud of is the fact that to this day, no matter how famous he has become, he still practices three hours daily. And he never, ever takes anything for granted.

Gorelick is a good-natured, charming interview. He never shows the least bit of bad humor or petulance, he recognizes his place in the musical sphere and does not seem to be weighed down by the constant criticism he has faced.

At the same time he is open to self-reflection. When director Penny Lane mentions white privilege, Kenny G instinctively deflects by saying that he never considers his skin color, however when Lane insists upon him really reflecting upon it, he does acknowledge that yes, as a white artist there were probably avenues open to him that a black artist may not have enjoyed.

Listening to Kenny G may indeed change how many people… well, listen to Kenny G. It is not only a fascinating look at a musical career, but also at how we as a society relate to music. Kenny G may not be the best musician ever; however he found his own niche and was able to thrive in it. If you don’t like his music, fine, other people do.

Listening to Kenny G is a warts-and-all look at a musician and his place in the bigger picture in popular culture. Kenny Gorelick appears to be a genuine and contented man who is willing to work hard for his success. People have become famous for a whole lot less. Maybe it’s time for the world to reanalyze the man. This movie should help that happen.

Jay S. Jacobs

Copyright ©2021 PopEntertainment.com. All rights reserved. Posted: November 1, 2021.

[echo-bleu]

no one ever said it would be this hard

For @moonlight-breeze-44 Happy birthday Em!! I hope you like this. I made it all angsty and painful for you 💙

I've been wanting to write Alec breaking down after breaking up with Magnus for a good while, and this was a great opportunity. This is part of my map out a world series (though there's no need to read the other parts first as it's mostly canon compliant), but it can reasonably be read as a prequel to take me back to the start, too. Hence the Coldplay title.

Huge thanks to my amazing beta @jeanboulet who edited this super fast and helped me figure out a title.

[self-harm, self-injurious stims, meltdown, blood, dissociation]

Read on AO3.

It should be raining, or something. There should be some kind of external sign that the world has just turned on its axis. The night shouldn’t be this… normal.

Alec runs back to the Institute on autopilot. He doesn’t even realize that he’s forgotten to activate his speed rune until he arrives, panting, at the front doors. He runs fast enough to make his lungs burn, because it prevents him from crying all the tears in his body. He shouldn’t cry. He chose this.

It doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make it feel any less like his whole world just ended.

Maybe because it did.

“Alec!”

He’s assaulted by Izzy as soon as he steps inside. He doesn’t even have time to take his hand off the handle of the door before she’s in his space, shouting. Something about Jonathan. Something about Clary. Something—

Wait. He didn’t follow any of that, but something clicks in his mind. He felt pain in the parabatai bond, before. He didn’t really feel it, with how fucking tense he was, but he noted it in a corner of his mind somehow. Jace is hurt. Izzy is panicked. Clary is… missing, if what his brain is parsing together is right. Jonathan is gone.

Fuck.

Alec pushes it all away. He knows how to do it, how to switch to soldier mode. Dissociate his feelings from his actions, make his body and his brain do what needs to be done. He’s always known. It was the first thing he learned, long before the Academy, long before formal training. He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them again, there is nothing but complete clarity.

As long as he holds on tight.

He takes Izzy by the shoulders. “Tell me again.”

“Jonathan got into Clary’s head!” Izzy shouts again, too loud in his ears, like she can’t control the level of her voice in her panic. Alec doesn’t wince. He doesn’t feel pain the same way, when he does this.

It’s useful. He can just hold her tighter and get the whole story out of her, how Clary knocked Jace out and freed Jonathan. “They’re gone.”

“Okay,” Alec murmurs, for Izzy’s benefit. “Okay. Calm down. We need to secure the premises.”

“Already done, sir,” Underhill comes behind Izzy. “No sign of them. We have a Seelie knight dead in the observation cell. Three dead guards.”

Alec tightens his fists, remembering just in time to let go of Izzy first. He doesn’t feel his nails digging into his palms. He doesn’t feel his phone buzzing in his pocket with the Institute-wide alert. He doesn’t feel.

It’s a good thing.

“Izzy, go find Jace,” he orders. “Underhill, I need a full sweep. Where’s Jens?”

Underhill points to the Ops table, beside which Jens is talking on the phone. Izzy shakes herself – she’s no stranger to obeying orders, either – and she jogs away. Alec doesn’t bother tracking where she’s going. He knows he’s operating on limited bandwidth, limited energy. He has to rely on his subordinates.

“I’ve informed the Clave,” Jens says over the noise of the ops center as soon as he hangs up his phone.

Alec walks up to him, Underhill on his heels.

“Sir,” Underhill starts, agitated. “Won’t they—”

“They will, but we can’t do without it now,” Alec says. “I assume they’re reinstating the kill order?”

“Yes,” Jens confirms. “We have orders to put all our available teams on it, and they will send additional ones in the morning.”

Alec places his hands flat on the edge of the table, and takes strength from the pressure for a second. “Brief the teams. Capture, don’t kill. I’ll handle the Clave.”

Underhill nods at his dismissal and walks away, but Jens lingers. Alec grits his teeth. There’s so much to do, and so little time to do it, and he can’t let go now.

“Alec, is everything alright?” Jens asks – not softly, not exactly, but he can see what no one else notices. He’s known Alec forever. He’s known Alec better than his own siblings for years.

“I can’t do this now,” Alec responds honestly. He can barely make himself speak out loud.

“The Clave is handled for now,” Jens answers. He’s switching almost automatically to trying to relieve Alec of as many duties as possible, like well-oiled machinery. He knows exactly when to push Alec, and when to hold back. He knows that Alec can’t handle more pressure now. “They’ll call if they need more intel. Paperwork can wait.”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” Alec says. Maybe he won’t be able to handle it later.

“It will,” Jens asserts. “Go to your siblings. I can hold the fort.”

Alec sighs. He can’t slip now. He nods at Jens and grips the edges of the table tighter.

Jace, Izzy and Simon, his presence almost incongruous, stride up on the catwalk at that moment. “Alec!”

Alec moves like he’s in a sea of treacle. Every muscle in his body is tenser than a guitar string. It must be visible, because Izzy gives him a look of concern. Or maybe she suspects what he abandoned them for.

Fuck. He was supposed to be there with them. If he had been, maybe—

It almost makes him crumble. He stumbles, just barely, and pulls his control back tighter. They have a whole conversation around him about the Clave’s orders and the Heavenly Fire serum, and Alec is sure that he participates in some way, but he would be hard-pressed to say how.

He’s entirely unsure of what happens for the rest of the night. Or the next day. He doesn’t have a single second to himself to reflect on things, and it’s good. He’s fairly sure that he allows Jace desperate measures that he would have never signed on otherwise, but, well, Jace needs to get Clary back. One of them needs to end this with their heart intact.

There’s one moment, during the day, when Jace asks about Magnus. Alec nearly crumples just at hearing his name. “Sometimes things don’t go the way you want them to.” He hears the words coming out of his mouth like he’s far away, in another world, another universe. There’s a version of him that enunciates them, and Alec has lost track which. Alec the Clave soldier doesn’t have room for any of that. And he’s closed the door on any other part of him.

He falters for one moment, and as soon as Jace leaves his office, he activates half the runes on his body, just to anchor himself on the rush of energy. Stamina. He hasn’t slept in almost three days. Strength. His body feels like jelly. Calm Anger. It pushes everything back down.

And if he abuses them, well, no one else needs to know.

*

He’s sitting on his bed when his siblings find him. It must have been, what, six hours since Jace was thrown back through a portal into the Institute? He’s frozen, afraid that if he moves an inch, he’ll shatter into pieces.

He hasn’t moved for hours. He’s sitting with his back perfectly straight, his feet flat on the ground, still fully dressed in patrol gear, long past the time when the position should have become uncomfortable – but he can’t even feel it. His hands are clasped together, too tight, his knuckles white with the effort. Stuck.

He doesn’t move when Izzy and Jace knock, and at his lack of answer, they slip inside. He can’t look up at them, he can’t react. He clenches his jaw hard and tries not to fall apart.

“Alec,” Izzy calls quietly, passing through his field of vision. She disappears briefly and reappears kneeling beside him, just shy of touching him. Alec wants to jerk out of the way, but his body doesn’t obey.

“Alec, you’re feeling really awful, buddy,” Jace says, crouching on the other side.

Alec breathes carefully, evenly, as he has for hours, until there’s a hitch. His breathing goes out of sync with his brain, with his locked down body, and it crumbles. He falls apart.

He crumples in on himself, chin reaching his knees as he curls up, gasping. He digs his thumbs into his forehead and, when that doesn’t work, he stuffs his fingers into his mouth and bites down hard. He slips off the bed and falls onto the floor, and the pain of hitting his back against the bed frame doesn’t even register as he starts to rock back and forth.

“Alec!” Izzy reacts. But she doesn’t try to touch him. She knows if won’t go over well.

Jace doesn’t have the same compulsion, not when Alec’s fingers are still in his mouth and he’s tasting iron. Blood. “Alec, you have to stop,” he tries. He approaches his hand to pull on Alec’s forearm, but as soon as their skins touch, Alec lets out a strangled cry and backs away, into the bed frame, then brutally onto the bed, until he’s backed up against the headboard.

Fuck. The urge to hit his head to dull the agony is irresistible, and it makes a thud as pain erupts under his scalp. He hears, vaguely, his siblings trying to stop him verbally, but nothing is coming through anymore. He screams silently, mouth open in agony, as his head hits the wall again and again.

“Alec.” Izzy is crying now. Alec thinks distantly that she’s never seen him this bad, not since they were little kids and she didn’t have to handle him. He’s long learned to hide his meltdowns, to shutdown instead, like he’s done for most of today – yesterday. Dissociate until there’s nothing left of him.

This time, it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough, because nothing is enough.

He’s been able to stay numb for twenty-eight hours, since he closed the door of his mother’s shop and left Magnus inside. He’s been—

Magnus.

Fuck.

He pulls at his hair, hard enough to uproot it. Nothing is enough. His skin is too tight for the pain bubbling inside of him, and he’s exploding, losing all control. He’s a giant knot, muscles taut and burning from staying so tense all day, runes overworked and overloaded.

His eyes stay dry, even as he craves the relief of crying. “Alec,” someone murmurs – he doesn’t know who anymore. “Shhhhh. It’s okay.”

It’s not okay. There’s no such thing as okay, now, not without—

His chest feels like a hole has been punched through it, and it’s been filled with self-expanding foam. He sobs without a noise, his shoulders shaking and his whole body trembling.

Suddenly, there’s a warm body against him, and for a moment, Alec is about to throw it off, to react violently against the unbearable touch. He resists, but the arms around him tighten until it almost smothers him — paradoxically, that calms him down. Jace holds him and rocks with him and slowly, very slowly, Alec settles.

The tears don’t come until Izzy’s smaller hands reach him, first checking him for injuries, then soothing him, running over his shoulders and his neck, always strong and tight. Alec hiccups and almost throws up, but he hasn’t eaten in too long. He dry heaves instead, coughing without breathing, gasping until his eyes water and finally he’s sobbing fully.

He hears Jace’s voice in between painful hiccups. “Izzy told me what happened. How do we help?”

Alec shakes his head when he’s finally parsed the sentence, probably too late for it to make sense. There’s nothing they can do, and Alec has no words in him to tell them. It’s over. Magnus is gone. Gone from his life, forever.

The sobs redouble, and Alec heaves over the arm holding him up, probably Jace’s. His chest is on fire, but it feels right. It should hurt. It should be so painful as to be unbearable, because that’s what it feels like inside.

There’s already a Magnus-shaped hole inside him, and it’s only going to grow deeper and larger. Alec wonders, vaguely, how long he has until it swallows him whole.

*

It feels like hours before his sobs subside, leaving him breathless and listless, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Alec gradually slides down until he’s curled up on his side on the bed, his head on the pillow Magnus slept on just two days ago.

Jace and Izzy move with him, refusing to let him go. They scoot over until they’re framing him, Jace curled against his back and Izzy in front of him, one hand cupping his wrist. Alec lets himself soak up their warmth as he starts shivering.

He doesn’t stop crying in one go. He keeps seeing flashes of Magnus, and it only takes a half-formed thought to start again, the sobs wracking his body. It’s less violent every time, though, and after a while it only extracts a pitiful hiccup from him, his tears long dried out. Jace and Izzy keep holding him silently, though Alec can feel the looks they exchange over his shoulder.

“Alec,” Jace murmurs after a long time. “Was there really no other way?”

Alec struggles to focus his gaze on something – Izzy’s hand on his wrist, in this case – and he wets his lips several times without managing to speak. He shakes his head.

“It’s okay if you can’t speak right now,” Izzy whispers. “We’re here for you.”

Alec nods gratefully. She’s only recently learned to do this, to recognize when he’s struggling to form words. None of his family ever caught on – his siblings used to laugh at him, when he struggled with seemingly simple things. His parents would shake him and force him to hide it.

Magnus was the first one to understand.

Magnus was the first one to see Alec. The first one to love him for who he is, and not for the image of Alec he had in his mind. And Alec ruined it, over and over. He betrayed Magnus and let him suffer because of his actions.

He brought Magnus nothing but pain.

He tastes ashes. His mouth feels dry, parched by a thirst that will never be quenched again. He hurts all over from tensing so much, but it feels like a too small punishment for his sins.

“I can’t,” he starts, forcing the words out over the knot in his throat. “I can’t imagine living without him.”

It opens up yet another avenue of thoughts, that he’s pushed away until now. All his plans for the future include Magnus. There is no Alec without Magnus, not in his head. He’s dreamed so often about marrying him, recently, about seeing the Lightwood ring on Magnus’ hand and moving in together and—

What is he going to do now?

He can’t stop seeing Magnus’ face as he left the shop, the desperation in his eyes. Did he really do the right thing? Magnus has lost so much recently—

But that’s exactly why Alec did it. Magnus has lost too much. His magic is an intrinsic part of himself, something he can’t just do without, even if it took Alec too much time to understand. His immortality is a part of him. Alec… Alec is just a lover. One more lover in a long string of them.

Magnus has had many relationships, and he’s lost them all eventually, and he lived through it. But this, losing his magic? He was ready to risk dying from Lorenzo’s transfusion, just to be able to use this second-hand, wrong magic. Even Alec could see how weird the yellow magic was in Magnus’ hands, how sickening, but Magnus latched onto it like it was more important than breathing.

No, Magnus can replace Alec in a way he can never replace his magic. As bad as Alec feels for hurting him on the short term, it’s the only decision he could make.

From the moment the idea of going to Asmodeus went through his brain, he knew that he couldn’t live with himself unless he tried everything. He wishes, selfishly, that he’d never thought of it. He’d be holding Magnus right now in this bed, instead of lying heartbroken between his siblings.

It wouldn’t hurt like this.

“You can do this, Alec,” Izzy says softly, but even Alec can tell that she doesn’t fully believe it. “I know you can. We’ve just gotta take it one step at a time.”

“That one of your mundane group things?” Jace asks when Alec doesn’t react.

He doesn’t know how to react. He can’t think of tomorrow, of next week, of any time without Magnus. One step at a time implies that he even wants to go on.

He’s not sure he does.

“Yeah,” Izzy mutters. “It helps. Sometimes.”

Alec wonders if this is what Jace felt when they thought that Clary was dead. What he feels right now when Clary is out there somewhere, brainwashed by Jonathan. Alec can’t feel anything through the parabatai bond, not on top of his own pain.

He grits his teeth against the urge to hit his head again, just to overwhelm the emotional pain. His scalp is going to bruise as it is, unless he uses an iratze. His fingers are covered in teeth marks where he bit himself, some of them still bloody.

“You hope the pain here will overpower the pain there,” Magnus told him once, hand on his heart. Alec almost whimpers.

Oh, to go back there, to the beginning of them. The pain of that day, the overpowering guilt at Jocelyn’s death, feels so inconsequential now. So much has happened. They never had time to stop running, one thing after the other.

It’s been over two years, but Alec feels like he never had time to just breathe. Curl up with Magnus and just enjoy the moment. They always had to think about the next step, the best thing for their respective people, the next threat coming to rip them apart.

And now they’ll never have that time.

Alec jerks his hands out of Izzy’s grasp and he digs his nails into the skin of his scalp, pressing on his eyes with the heels of his palms. Fuck. He can’t do this. He can’t live with this pain.

Jace must sense his distress, because he slings his arm over Alec’s and holds him, so tightly that it’s nearly painful. It eases something in Alec, calming his crawling skin until he can relax just a little. “We’re here,” Jace murmurs in his ear. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“We can’t replace Magnus, but we’ll support you no matter what,” Izzy adds, slipping her arms around both of them. “We love you, Alec. That will never change.”

Alec closes his eyes.

It doesn’t make things better. It doesn’t make tomorrow any less daunting, and it doesn’t stop the excruciating pain. But it soothes something in Alec, making it just a little less unbearable.

His body exhausted beyond its limits, Alec finally falls asleep.

[lany-d-flow]

Whisper Talk: Going Against Alternate Timeline Theories with a Theory, and Answering Questions Saying Otherwise.

Those who look with clouded eyes see nothing but shadows. -Sephiroth, Final Fantasy 7 Remake.

SPOILER WARNING

Pressing “Keep Reading” will bring you into spoiler territory for, well... Final Fantasy 7 Compilation and Remake, so this is your warning, all right buddy?

Also, this is one person’s interpretation of another work. What I predict may very well turn out to be untrue, and if you disagree with my prediction then that’s totally fine! (If you’d like, we could chat about it).

But honestly, I have spent the last few months thinking about this game in an unhealthy manner. I think having all of these whispers inside of my head with my frustration getting bigger is not going to move anything forward. So it’s time to wake up, get up, get out there and write thoughts about what is actually going on with Final Fantasy 7 Remake, while trying to clear up misconceptions that may be leading people astray. Perhaps the latter is the intention of the developers. If it is? Well, let’s move past the clouds and find the sunlight. 

All right, let’s mosey into this nonsense.

It’s been months since the release of Final Fantasy 7 Remake. After a long five-year wait for many fans, we got a piece of the story on the Playstation 4 in March and April 2020. It was exciting to see the capital of Final Fantasy 7, Midgar, be brought to life with state-of-the-art graphics. Treading through mako reactors, Sector 7 and Sector 5, the nasty Wall Market, Shinra HQ, hearing conversations of lively NPCs, exploring the subtle easter eggs and symbolism through visual storytelling... Goodness, so much of what this game had to offer was a delight! The developers put their heart and soul into fleshing out a section of Final Fantasy 7 that was, at most, 6 hours long. This level of detail cannot go unnoticed, and I’m sure it’s made everyone excited to see the reimagining of Gaia when we receive future installments!!!!

Oh, but wait... the developers introduced a new monster called Whispers, otherwise known as Arbiters of Fate, and... What purpose do they serve?! Why are these things in Final Fantasy 7 when they never had a role in the original game? Based on everything we saw in the story, they seem to be making sure the story of Final Fantasy 7 runs exactly as it’s supposed to. Without these ghosts, the story will not be 1:1. To make things worse, we have Sephiroth who’s from the future?! No wonder these Whispers are here, Sephiroth’s trying to rewrite history because everything he has tried before failed him!

So based on what we saw in Final Fantasy 7 Remake, the developers decided to create a metaphor for the fanbase, and since we defeated ‘destiny,’ we’ve defeated the fanbase’s say in where the story goes, thereby giving the developers permission to change the story the way they want it. Wow, this is pathetic on Square Enix’s part. Final Fantasy 7 is an amazing story with layers and layers of complex themes, why would they try to form it into something else? Now we’re going to have time travel and alternate timelines in the plot and Sephiroth seems unstoppable now. Heck, the developers are probably going to make sure impactful moments in Final Fantasy 7 do not happen, so Zack and Aerith are probably going to survive. And they’re also ditching the Compilation? Can these people be trusted? 

Final Fantasy 7 Remake is ruined!!!

Still with me? Well, this is just some of the talk that I’ve heard based on the execution of Final Fantasy 7 Remake’s plot. I won’t try to list every possible thing people are talking about, but I think we get the idea of the impression that our game’s ending put on a lot of players. So I wanted to give my input on what I believe is actually going on with the story, as well as answer many questions popping up about the circumstances of our game’s characters.

So, do I think the developers are changing the story?

Short Answer: No, at least not in the way that many people think. They’re “changing” the story by putting in new elements, moments that tie with the rest of the Compilation, but the main plot points (Overarching plot, the main crisis, the internal plot, the emotional climax, etc.) still need to happen. This series is more than 2 decades old, and with time it has received: a movie, 2 books, a sequel, 2 prequels, and now a remake with existing materials to tie into the game. 

Long Answer: All right, if you’re still with me, thank you. I will do my best to explain all of what’s going on. I’ll give my input via understanding how the FF7 Universe works; in other words, what the Whispers are, how the Whispers work, how they’ve actually always been apart of FF7 and are now receiving an expanded role, and how Sephiroth and Aerith showing meta behavior makes sense due to the power that the Planet has given to the Arbiters of Fate (exposure = visions out of context). I will also be answering questions that one may bring up as proof of an alternate timeline/story change and argue what their purpose may actually be.

So, let's Talk about A Whisper

Wait a minute...

So, let's talk about the Whispers.

Let’s start by explaining what the Whispers are, what function they serve to the Planet, and how the Planet creates them in the first place:

Whispers are souls that act as arbiters of fate and have been a part of the Planet for as long as the Planet has existed. They know the fate of the Planet from beginning to end, and their function is to make sure that a specific destiny runs its course. They all unite under the will of the Planet, just like the Sephiroth Clones all act under the will of Sephiroth, which is probably the reason why they were given a cloaky look: the Whispers' function parallels the Sephiroth Clones' function and both act under the authority of something else. They cannot be seen by everyone, and to actually see their physical manifestation, you need to either be 1) deeply connected with the Planet, or 2) receive some form of physical contact from someone who has a strong connection to the Planet. This is established early in Chapter 2 of Final Fantasy 7 Remake. Cloud meets Aerith for the first time, and at first glance she seems to be blown away by the wind. After Cloud and Aerith have an exchange and Aerith gives Cloud a flower, immediately after this we are greeted with an illusion of Sephiroth tormenting Cloud and more importantly, Aerith touching Cloud, allowing him to see the Whispers floating around the street. This follows the logic of my two points, as Aerith is a half-Cetra who’s been receiving visions of the past and future for years (her mural of symbolism in her Shinra HQ room was drawn when she received a vision as a child, though she does not understand the full context of what it means), and of course she ended up giving permission for Cloud to see the Planet’s protectors in action.

So how do the Whispers make sure destiny happens as intended?

Well, they do so by constantly observing the actions of the Planet’s people, sometimes in sight, sometimes not. If something happened that is off course, the Whispers immediately act to correct the course of said issue. We see this multiple times in the story. Some examples include: Aerith trying to leave the street where she meets Cloud, then proceeding to leave the street after meeting Cloud, following the Whispers’ intentions; Jessie getting injured in Sector 7 because destiny needs to make sure Cloud goes on the next AVALANCHE mission. If this didn’t happen, then Aerith and Cloud probably wouldn’t have met again; Surrounding the debris on top of Jessie to ensure her death takes place on top of the Sector 7 Tower (I’ll cover the speculation on her “survival” later); stopping Cloud from remembering everything about the Shinra Research Lab; stopping Hojo from revealing the truth of Cloud’s past (no way in Hell are they going to let the internal conflict unfold this early); reviving Barret from the stab wound that the Sephiroth remnant gave him; lastly, pushing Wedge down the Shinra HQ tower to ensure his death happens. Destined events either eventually happened, or they got delayed. This implies that the Whispers are nigh-omnipresent beings, especially given how many they are and how they were able to surround Midgar entirely, and their part of correcting destiny follows the flow of a river. As Red XIII puts it, “The flow of the great river that is the Planet, from inception to oblivion… For it is the will of the Planet itself”.

Cool. So how are the Whispers born? Where do they come from?

It’s actually a pretty straightforward explanation, and Aerith tells us in Chapter 18: Destiny’s Crossroads. Before the Whispers became Whispers, they were “Those born into this world. Who lived and who died. Who returned. They’re howling in pain.” This adds on to what Sephiroth said a moment ago: “All born are bound to her.” All Whispers were once living people, animals, etc. And all that are given life on the Planet are bound by something like a contract: You get made into an image and are given a physical life. In exchange, once that time’s up, you must return to the Lifestream and become a part of the Planet, being one of many who follow her will. You’re born, you live, you die, and you serve another purpose in a collective of spirits who are now tasked with making sure the flow of destiny is as it should be. By following all of this, we can conclude that 1) Everyone who lives on Gaia could eventually become a Whisper, and 2) since Whispers are a part of the Planet, they are formed from the Lifestream, the Planet’s lifeblood. This leads us into the next question...

How do the Whispers know the course of Destiny from start to finish?

Great question! The logical explanation to how they know is quite simple: the properties of the Lifestream. The Whispers are made out of Lifestream, and that gives them knowledge of the Planet’s destiny. I argue it is not farfetched to make this claim, as the Lifestream has shown time and again what it is capable of. Infact, let’s make an analogy of Lifestream manifestations via state of matter.

Lifestream: Its Three States of Matter and their Benefits and Side Effects

Mako is the liquid form of the Lifestream, Materia is a solid form of the Lifestream, while the regular Lifestream itself can be most equivalent to something of a gas/plasma, at least one that can be seen. Throughout Final Fantasy 7 we’ve seen what all of these forms can do. Mako is an extremely powerful energy source that powers all of Midgar through reactors, and is also what SOLDIERs are bathed in to possibly receive superhuman strength; Materia are jewels capable of all kinds of powerful magic; summoning fire, lightning, ice, creating shields, copying abilities of other living beings, healing, elevating other materia abilities, and most notably summon manifestations of powerful beings (Bahamut, Shiva, Ifrit, Odin, Knights of the Round). While the Lifestream itself? That’s all the souls of the planet with a consciousness that follows the Planet’s will. Some can appear as a physical manifestation, but they’re not quite solid, which is how Cloud’s buster sword moves through the Whispers as if he didn’t cut through anything. Use of the Lifestream can also create projections (think Aerith’s Chapter 14 resolution), allow access into someone’s subconscious under certain circumstances, and of course, give people visions of the past and future without any context as to how those events happen(ed).

All three forms of the Lifestream have side effects, too.

Materia can degrade the vitality and strength of the user. Think of it as a trade-off for borrowing the Planet’s lifeblood in the form of a jewel.

Mako can cause extremely intense mental breakdowns and break the psyche of those without strong mental resilience, which is why Cloud was unable to make it into SOLDIER. But he eventually received Mako exposure anyway. What happened? Oh yeah, he went into a comatose state not once, not twice, but THREE times. First during experimentation, second when he arrived at Midgar before Tifa bumped into him, and when he fell into a pool of Mako and washed up on the shore of Mideel.

Meanwhile, Lifestream side effects are non-contextual visions, loss of sanity similar to Mako (think Tifa before she entered Cloud’s subconscious), and if the Lifestream has something in it, infection! That’s how Geostigma came to be: Jenova cells from Sephiroth, Jenova, and the remnants were floating in the Lifestream, and when the latter destroyed Meteor, it also exposed humans to Jenova cells, turning into a severe disease that is deadliest toward hosts with emotional fragility. This is why Cloud has a “Geostigma episode” in Advent Children when he runs into an injured Tifa.

Even with all these side effects, the benefits are far too great to ignore. All this power from the Lifestream is why Sephiroth and Jenova wanted to siphon it for themselves in the first place. By siphoning the Lifestream resisting side effects, one can receive unparalleled powers. Sephiroth himself said it in the original game: 

“By merging with all the energy of the Planet, I will become a new life form, a new existence. Melding with the Planet… I will cease to exist as I am now. Only to be reborn as a god to rule over every soul.”

Notice how the last quote aligns with what Sephiroth said in the Edge of Creation about the Nebula? 

“Our world will become a part of it… one day.” 

We’ll come back to that statement, I promise. But for now, based on everything I’ve told you, here’s what I think is going on in Final Fantasy 7 Remake:

Sephiroth is not from the future. His exposure to the Lifestream for the last 5 years gave him the side effect of non-contextual visions. Among these visions, he probably saw his master plan fail. Eventually he realizes that the reason he has these visions is because of the Whispers and more specifically, the Planet’s Weapon Arbiter. The Whispers are fighting against Sephiroth as he’s gained both a rough understanding of the future and the Lifestream’s powers by siphoning it up. So, his new master plan? Defeat the Arbiters of Fate and THEN continue with his original plan. Sephiroth being omnipresent makes sense given his control over Jenova and her shapeshifting, S cells that allow him to puppetize clones and Cloud, and being in the Lifestream basically giving him more power with one form of that being omnipresence. What’s going to lead to his downfall is ultimately his arrogance: he probably thinks that just stopping the Whispers is enough for him to win. So while the physical manifestation of fate is gone, Sephiroth still needs to meet the same criteria to win: get the Black Materia to summon Meteor, his ticket to siphon up all the Planet’s Lifestream, which means he also needs Cloud to give him the Black Materia, which then means that eventually Aerith will have to summon Holy and eventually become one with the Lifestream to beat Meteor.

See how all of this comes together without time travel theories that go off on insane tangents? It’s established that the Whispers know the course of destiny from past, present and future. But WHERE did it say that they can travel through time? WHERE did it say that Sephiroth can travel through time with the Lifestream? That kind of power would be an enormous retcon to the story and the functions of Gaia, and it would also lead to a really convoluted plot that can deviate from the main themes of the story (trust me, some theories out there are wild). We do know that Whispers are in a singularity and it moves like a river, which as @silver-wield cleverly put in a post about the story of FF7R, translates to:

The arbiters of fate issued a correction to Wedge and made him fall out of the window in the Shinra building. Which means fate cannot be altered, merely delayed, which then leads to a more painful end for not accepting that fate.

...Or perhaps shuffled up with ultimately the same necessary outcome, because the river of destiny was put on a different course but is still heading to the same destination. There are multiple works in the compilation that the writers and developers would like to tie together to the main story. What’s a way for them to execute this? By making a metaphor for the OG storyline and by beating it giving them permission to add new things? From a certain point of view, sure, but the developers never needed permission to do this in the first place. But the side effect of beating the physical manifestation of destiny was likely shuffling parts of the story of Final Fantasy 7, prequels all the way to the chronological sequels. One can make a case for this based on the explosion felt at Midgar when the Arbiter and Sephiroth were defeated in the Singularity. The glitters of light could also reflect this change. From all this I argue freedom came to be, and characters from the Compilation might make an appearance during the main story such as Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo. However, no matter what changes are present, the outcome will be the same. Cloud is not properly himself yet; he still thinks he made it into SOLDIER, he gets slight interferences from Jenova throughout the story (example: Cloud’s hand twitching when against Sephiroth at the Edge of Creation), he has the Buster Sword but still doesn’t remember who its original owner was, so his unreliable narration, downfall and emotional climax still need to happen. Aerith is the only character who can summon Holy and the only character who can call forth the Lifestream, and the only way she can call forth the Lifestream is by becoming one with it. How can she do this? There’s only one way: Death. Sorry guys, but if both Sephiroth and Aerith have prophetic visions of the future, there’s a chance that both know what must be done for themselves to get the upper hand. Sephiroth still wants to siphon up the Lifestream and become an omnipotent God, and the best way for him to do this? Summon Meteor. What does he need for this? The Black Materia. Who does he manipulate into giving him the Black Materia at the Northern Crater? Cloud.

My point from all this is that there are specific beats that need to happen to move the plot forward, no matter what new things they add from the Compilation. Using a different crisis for the overarching plot that isn’t Meteor is a retcon to the story, and why advertise Meteor and have it as the centerpiece of artworks and the title screen if you’re not going to use it in the first place? That’s just… really strange. We can add things in the middle of the plot to flesh out the main themes of a story while staying faithful to the outcomes. Adding something entirely different as a crisis like time travel in a game that has never been about time travel is out of place, unnecessary, and people are placing way too much faith in this being true while not looking at the bigger picture and function of Final Fantasy 7’s power tools. I believe the developers want you to think that the story is changing, that a happier outcome is in store for everyone. This all works with what Final Fantasy 7 did for many players in the first place: subvert expectations by placing us in an illusion with an unreliable narrative. We assumed Cloud made it into SOLDIER until we found out he never made it into SOLDIER and created a facade to conceal the truth that he was afraid to face. We thought Aerith was the love interest when the game kept making us appreciate her perky attitude until she ended up dying and then we discover in the Lifestream Sequence that Cloud’s romantic feelings, his whole reason for fighting, was for Tifa. We thought Shinra was the main antagonist of the game until shortly after going through Midgar, the main antagonist is Sephiroth. We thought we were fighting Sephiroth throughout the game until we find out that the real Sephiroth was encased in a crystal sucking up the Lifestream. We don’t actually fight him until the very end when he merges with Jenova and the Lifestream into Bizarro Sephiroth and Safer Sephiroth.

See where I’m going with all of this? The developers want to continue using red herrings and playing the theme of illusion by using different methods. The old methods will not work anymore, so they have to find a new way to subvert expectations in a way that gets us confused, excited, and uncertain what will happen until we actually play through the next installments. When that time comes, be prepared to get your heartstrings pulled, because reality hits our characters hard, just like it hits us hard. Think Biggs, Zack, Aerith are going to survive, and that Sephiroth is travelling through time to accomplish his devious tasks? Well, think again.

Now that we’ve gotten this far into this Whisper Talk, there are a load of questions I will need to address. So without further ado, Let’s mosey!!!

How is Sephiroth not from the future? His one-winged form from Advent Children Complete was shown in the final boss fight, the boss map looks eerily similar to Edge, and we saw multiple Sephiroths throughout the story. The game is heavily implying that Sephiroth is from the future and he wants to try to achieve victory a second time.

Well, for starters, First Class SOLDIERs having wings has been a thing for a while. Sephiroth was not the only SOLDIER to have a wing. As Final Fantasy 7: Crisis Core showed us, Sephiroth’s comrades, Angeal and Genesis, were able to grow wings at will. They had different cells (G cells) which gave them a different ability, make copies of themselves, rather than control others who share their cells, sure, but that is NOT stopping any of them from growing wings at will. It’s something used across the board for all three of these really powerful SOLDIERs and it’s no surprise that this time around, they want to show Sephiroth using more of his abilities throughout the game.

Also, Sephiroth having one wing is nothing new. It’s part of his Safer form and is named on his track, One-Winged Angel. So, as an homage, they wanted the villain of the game to use a wing during his fight in Advent Children.

There’s also another way we can explain this. Sephiroth formed a body of his image in Advent Children thanks to Kadaj. And what purpose does Kadaj serve? He’s a strengthened remnant embodying Sephiroth’s cruelty. In other words, he’s another puppet Sephiroth can manipulate. And he uses Kadaj’s body + Jenova’s head to form his image. A clone and Jenova cells, or just straight up Jenova, allow him to shapeshift as that’s one of Jenova’s trademark abilities. So using this as an implication of time travel doesn’t add up.

When it comes to Sephiroth’s 70 alternative accounts, each of them have a straightforward explanation, including the one that confuses most people. Here we go, according to the FF7R Ultimania:

An illusion only Cloud can see:

Cloud has S cells injected into him. The same S cells are also Jenova cells. Jenova cells allow hosts to read the memories of those nearby, inherit the memories of other hosts, and give Sephiroth shapeshifting and puppeting abilities on those who have S cells. This is how Cloud created his SOLDIER facade thanks to Zack’s injection, similar memories and instinct to hide from the truth. What’s likely going on here is Sephiroth is able to make Cloud hallucinate thanks to said S cells, hence why it’s an illusion ONLY Cloud can see. We saw this during the Nibelheim flashback, meeting Aerith for the first time, after the Sector 7 Plate collapse when he was behind Tifa. This is another way of showing Sephiroth’s omnipresent power.

Also, if we're going to get really specific about the properties of Jenova cells, we can look at a source like FF7 Ultimania Omega:

Jenova's mimic ability Jenova has a mimic ability which allows it to read the memories and feelings of others, then adjust its appearance, speech and behaviour accordingly to imitate what it has seen. Jenova once used this ability to get close to the Ancients and infect them with its virus, which killed many of them.

This ability is not limited solely to Jenova itself, for those who have its cells within them passes it as well, though in an incomplete form. Immediately prior to the start of the game, when Cloud's mind was shattered, he ran into Tifa and seemed to immediately return to "normal"; this was because of the mimic abilities of the Jenova cells inside Cloud read her mind, seeing her memories of him, which were then combined with his own ideal vision of himself, fashioning a new personality for himself.

And there you go. Jenova's signature abilities are shapeshifting and illusion. It's mentioned in her backstory, It's shown in her boss battles, it's shown in Jenova-infected hosts, and it's even shown in her OST! The illusion aspect being something only Cloud can see makes sense, thanks to his Jenova S cells, so the developers are expanding this ability.

Black Robed Man:

Simple. These are Sephiroth Clones, also known as Remnants. Each of these puppets have S Jenova cells injected into them, which is what allows Sephiroth to create illusionary projections of himself via their bodies. They can also create an illusion of Jenova’s Lovecraftian forms. If predictions are correct, there’s a chance that a couple of them could end up becoming the Advent Children (more on that later).

Flashback:

Also simple. This connects to what was mentioned in Cloud’s illusion. Cloud knows events he should not thanks to his Jenova S cells, and flashbacks like, “Within my veins flows the blood of Ancients. This Planet is my birthright!” are events that will be featured later in the game in moments like the Kalm flashback. Moving on!

Unknown:

This is where people get confused. But believe me, the answer is MUCH simpler than most people realize. The Unknown Sephiroth is the last form of Sephiroth that we fought in Final Fantasy 7. Yes, the shirtless one. From here forward I'll call him SOLDIER Sephiroth. For reasons I do not know, they decided not to make him shirtless this time around (too sexy by far?) but believe me when I say that that Sephiroth is the same one we saw at the Edge of Creation. How am I so sure of this? Look back at how Cloud met that Sephiroth in Remake and compare it to what happened in the Crater. They have the same tunnel of light and Cloud’s visiting a persona of Sephiroth that exists in a dimension unaffected by time and space. The Lifestream gives Sephiroth the opportunity to pull Cloud's conscious mind into this dimension. Cloud being in the Singularity during the final battle of FF7R Part 1, and the Singularity containing Lifestream = ability to take Cloud to meet SOLDIER Sephiroth in a pocket dimension, the Edge of Creation. In OG, being exposed/near the Lifestream in the Crater allowed Cloud to visit Shirtless SOLDIER Sephiroth in another dimension and finish him off, with Aerith helping Cloud return his consciousness to the real world.

See?! It actually makes a lot of sense, only this time Sephiroth hasn’t been stripped of his God powers and is currently siphoning the Lifestream. So this time around, Cloud couldn’t beat down Sephiroth. The reason the FF7 Remake Ultimania labels this Sephiroth as unknown is because it’s following a narrative where it assumes you do not know everything yet. Final Fantasy 7 Remake has only covered Midgar, and there’s still many places and moments we have yet to explore. But the Ultimania is not going to cover them until they are published in the next installments, and why would it tell us unrevealed "secrets" of the story? So for now, it has to act as if this is a mystery. This is the same case with Zack being labeled as “Missing in Action” rather than dead in the Ultimania, because we have not reached that moment in the plot yet. But I’ll cover that a bit more on one of the next questions.

As for Sephiroth being prophetic in the Edge of Creation, it’s simply foreshadowing what we’ll eventually have to face. “That which lies ahead… does not yet exist” is telling us that the final battle still has years before it’s ready to be unleashed. As for the Nebula, “Our world will become a part of it… one day,” this is a more vague statement of what I quoted earlier:

“By merging with all the energy of the Planet, I will become a new life form, a new existence. Melding with the Planet… I will cease to exist as I am now. Only to be reborn as a god to rule over every soul.” The Nebula that Sephiroth is staring at is stated in the FF7R Ultimania to represent Sephiroth’s wing(s). This same Nebula also has a similar shape to the original sketch of Safer Sephiroth. So, based on what SOLDIER Sephiroth told Cloud, we can conclude that Safer Sephiroth will one day be born and be the last fight for our team, maybe even taking place in the Edge of Creation. BUT it’s not quite time for that to happen yet, as Safer Sephiroth's physical body is still resting in a crystal at the Northern Crater. So there you have it!

Lastly, conceding the battlefield against Sephiroth, it is an homage to Advent Children and Edge, yes. That does not automatically mean that Sephiroth is from the future. We just fought arbiters of destiny who turned themselves into depictions of the three Advent Children. This is ultimately the developers' way of ending the game with an exciting boss battle and a somewhat familiar scene. It's just a manifestation of one of Gaia's locations while in the Singularity. Also, this whole boss battle was ultimately a fanservice-esque decision by the developers, particularly Co-Director Naoki Yamaguchi. They originally did not plan to have this boss battle in the first place, but they wanted to end this game on some kind of high note with the main antagonist. They could've ended the game with the Arbiter boss battle, and I think doing so would have confused less people, but the reason behind the Sephiroth boss battle has been spoken. We can conclude this: it was a Jenova/Remnant copy of Sephiroth using expanded abilities like his wing and absorbed some of the Whispers' power before this Sephiroth was defeated by the team and the Whispers were released from his grasp. There is no need to overthink this decision (but yes, I don't think it was entirely necessary).

But what about the Arbiters manifesting into images of Kadaj, Loz, and Yazoo? Whisper Rubrum, Viridi, Croceo, and Bahamut SHIN are all representations of Advent Children’s antagonists and their bio says they are from a “future timeline.” Isn’t this proof that there’s time travel and alternate timelines going on?

Well, you are right about the enemy intel bio in Final Fantasy 7 Remake stating that these guys are manifestations of figures from a future timeline. BUT that does not imply that multiple timelines are forming. Technically speaking, we all live in one timeline that follows through a singularity. This is the same case for Final Fantasy 7, and the very place we are fighting these Whispers is called the Singularity. The reason the Whispers are forming into these creatures is because of their future knowledge. This is their way of shapeshifting into powerful foes that can defend themselves against the team. They are turning into foes that destiny will one day birth, but in the form of something akin to a Weapon just like the main Arbiter itself, and this is also the developers way of adding a homage and possibly a hint of the foes that will appear in the future. They are NOT the Advent Children themselves, otherwise there would probably show more personality, and they would also… look more like them. So what happened with “time” after defeating these Advent Whispers and the Arbiter Weapon? Well, it sharpened the curves of the river and put destiny on a new course, but to the same destination, hence the “set beginning and end” that the developers mentioned before. In the river’s new course, we’ll get new events that while still having original events that will all be more fleshed out. In part of this new course of destiny maybe there’s a chance that we will see the Advent Children themselves. How can I be sure of this? After speaking to a friend about it, the remnants we encountered give us a hint. Marco, #49, resides in Sector 7. Who was a teenager that resided in Sector 7 before becoming a remnant and then Advent Child? Kadaj, also known as the manifestation of Sephiroth's cruelty. Meanwhile, we have #2 in Sector 5, who shows strong features fitting for someone in SOLDIER. Who fits this category? Loz, also known as the manifestation of Sephiroth's strength. People have theorized that #2 is Zack, but I do not agree and will address that later. The only remnant candidate we have left is Yazoo, the manifestation of Sephiroth's allure. This makes sense as he’s the most silent of the trio, so the developers will keep his remnant in mystery for now. But there you have it. By Nomura stating, "Come back to me a few years later and ask me what remake means," what I believe he means by "remake" is write the original story of Final Fantasy 7 with characters in other parts of the compilation included. Hence, a shuffled story with the same necessary outcomes.

Okay, but didn’t the developers say that Final Fantasy 7 Remake is not canon to the Compilation, thereby making it a different story from the Compilation and proving the developers are ditching the original story in the process?

Let me tell you right now: if those lines were what they actually said in full context, then they were lying. How am I sure? Because throughout FF7R, parts of what happened in the Compilation are included in the story. Zack’s Last Stand was featured in a flashback; Hollow’s lyrics greatly parallel the lyrical version of Price of Freedom; one of Cloud’s old Shinra Military comrades was featured and mentioned Kunsel, from Crisis Core; and of course the big Arbiters being manifestations of the Advent Children.

For saying the Compilation is being ditched and is the bad ending, why include characters and homages specifically from the Compilation? If they really were, they wouldn’t put pieces of it into the story like this. All that was stated by Director Tetsuya Nomura was that FF7 Remake is not canon to the Compilation YET. Keyword YET. The story is incomplete and the developers need to see Remake through from start to finish before they can say it’s truly canon to the Compilation. And what have Scenario Writer Kazushige Nojima and Producer Yoshinori Kitase said about the story?

Does this sound like they’re ditching the Compilation to you? I think this should sum up how they are tying the series of Final Fantasy 7 into one big package, but there are some people saying that the team seeing Advent Children and the Planet 500 years later, followed by Red XIII saying it’s “a glimpse of tomorrow if we fail here today” as proof that what happens in the future is a bad ending. This is not entirely true. It makes sense for humanity to be gone 500 years later with the Planet living on because that was the life that the team was trying to save in the first place. What Red XIII told us was simple: that if Destiny wins, then the river of Destiny will run the same course, and that includes the events of On The Way To a Smile, Advent Children, Dirge of Cerberus, and of course humanity being gone 500 years later. This is another case of the team receiving future visions without context, as I addressed before. They saw an event where they maybe saw people they knew, but do they know what leads to it? No. So what they assume about the outcome of the future and what’s good and bad may not necessarily be correct. They will find that out as the next parts of Final Fantasy 7 Remake are released.

Okay, but aren’t the characters free to do whatever they want now that they have beaten Destiny? As Aerith said, they have boundless, terrifying freedom.

They have freedom from the Whispers, and like Zack once said, “The price of freedom is steep.” They can begin their journey without the worry of the Whispers acting up if they do something that strays far away from what’s necessary. That doesn’t mean that they are not going to head to all the destinations we needed to reach in the original game. We will still probably have the flashback at Kalm since it’s the nearest town away from Midgar. We still need to pass through the Mythril Mines to get to other destinations. We still need to pass through Corel, Barret’s hometown, to get to the Gold Saucer where we will meet Cait Sith and reach Barret’s character climax. We still need to reach Gongaga and this will likely be a required place to visit because of how much more importance Zack is given in Remake. There’s also no working reactor in Gongaga so there’s a chance that yellow reunion flowers will grow as foliage. We still need to head to Cosmo Canyon, where Bugenhagen will teach us more about the Lifestream and where Red XIII will learn the truth about what happened to his father Seto. We still need to head to Nibelheim where a lot of confusion is going to rise within our team--specifically Cloud and Tifa--and also where we need to release Vincent from the Shinra Mansion. We still need to cross Mt. Nibel (we might get a flashback from Cloud) and head to Rocket Town to meet Cid and drink some goddamn tea. We still need to head to the Temple of the Ancients for the team to find out what needs to be done to save the Planet, and also the place where Sephiroth will manipulate Cloud and the team into giving him the Black Materia. We still need Aerith to head to the Forgotten City as it’s the only place she can use her prayer to activate the White Materia and summon Holy. We still need to head to the Northern Crater as that’s where Cloud will likely have his downfall and submit to Sephiroth….

We could keep going on with this, but I’m sure you see my point. New things will happen but there are important locations that the team needs to reach in order to come closer to their goal of stopping Sephiroth. The simple thing is that, from here on out, the Whispers will not intervene, giving us the illusion that things will change, but we most likely will learn the hard way that the necessary outcomes will still happen. So once again, the river is on a new course to the same destination.

Okay. You’ve talked about Sephiroth not being from the future, but what about Aerith? Her prayer stance in the opening cinematic looks eerily similar to her stance in the ending of Final Fantasy 7. Based on this, is she from the future/did she see the outcome of the Meteor-Lifestream-Holy Conflict?

No. What probably happened was the developers paid homage to that ending screen. What follows immediately after that is Aerith picking up a crushed reunion flower, symbolizing the non-reunion that Aerith and Zack could not receive in life, but eventually receive in the Lifestream. And once again: Aerith has received visions of the future, but without context as to why and how they happened. In a novella it’s mentioned that Aerith received a vision as a child and drew her mural of symbolism in her room as a result. We know she’s been receiving non-contextual visions for awhile, but being forced into a big responsibility by the Planet is something she needs to learn to accept, and that’s part of her character arc we will receive in the next parts of FInal Fantasy 7 Remake. There is no evidence she can time travel, and she doesn’t always know the Whispers’ intentions. When the team asked her what they were doing while surrounding the Shinra HQ Tower, she simply replied, “Who knows?”. She’s not omniscient. She has some meta knowledge and a big responsibility, but does not know how to handle this role yet. And that's where character development comes in for our Maiden of the Planet.

Cool, but why are people like Rufus and Hojo able to see the Whispers in the first place? And maybe Zack, too?

Actually, there’s a pretty straightforward explanation for this. As we know, to be able to see the Whispers, once again you have to either be heavily connected to the Planet or touched by a special person. Aerith spent a portion of her childhood in the Shinra HQ Tower. Who else was there with her? Her biological mother Ifalna. These two are both Cetra, one half and one full-blooded. Hojo likely spent hours upon hours with both of them, especially Ifalna, so receiving contact from them is not farfetched. Also, that gross f***** of a scientist does unfortunately play an important role in the plot and keeping the flow of destiny on course. As for Rufus? This man was a teenager when Aerith and Ifalna were living in Shinra HQ. It’s very possible that he ran into one of the two cetra and maybe received contact from them. If he didn’t? Don’t forget, this man is the president of Shinra throughout almost all of FF7. Even if the team opposes him, they still need him. He is very necessary to destroy the barrier that blocks the team from getting into the Northern Crater. Without his actions, the team cannot make it to Sephiroth. It’s that simple. And even though he can see the Whispers, how much does it matter? It’s only going to matter if the Whispers make a resurgence sometime in the plot. There you have it.

Okay, but why is Zack alive after his Last Stand? And why were the Whispers present during this? Also, what about the Stamp bag? Isn’t this proof of time travel and alternate timelines?

And here’s where the red herring comes in! He did beat the Shinra Army. And yes, the Whispers were present. BUT why were they present? Remember what was mentioned earlier? The Whispers are dead souls returning to the Planet, and if that’s the case they have been part of the Planet for a LONG time. This means that they were ALWAYS present through the course of events in the Planet. The reason we see them during Zack’s Last Stand is likely to throw one off at first, until they connect the dots with how old the Whispers actually are. And they are showing themselves in the Last Stand because this is an extremely important event that has to happen for Cloud’s next journey to begin. We didn’t quite get to see how the Whispers changed up the event, but they likely did form it in a way where the developers wanted to trick us. It's also left ambiguous if he can see the Whispers or not, although they do not seem to alarm him IF he can see them.

Now, about the Last Stand, If you compare Remake’s Last Stand to Crisis Core and Final Fantasy 7 OG, you’ll notice that Remake’s moment has similarities to the OG scene.

Zack walks, drops Cloud in a safe place, and defends himself against the soldiers in all three. So here's where the cutscenes get different:

FF7 OG: Zack fights against Shinra infantrymen. We don't see the troops, but Zack thinks he defeated them. Afterwards he heads to Cloud but immediately gets shot by a group of Shinra troops, and I mean shot. Afterwards, there is no dialogue between Zack and Cloud, Cloud grabs the Buster Sword and starts breaking down in the rain. Thus, his journey--nearly--begins.

FF7 Crisis Core: Zack confronts the Shinra army. He begins his monologue:

Boy oh boy... The price of freedom is steep. Embrace your dreams, and whatever happens... Protect your honor, as a SOLDIER!

We then proceed to battle the Shinra army. Eventually, the screen fades to black and we see Zack mortally wounded. The same group of Shinra troops from OG come over and bullet Zack to death. Eventually, Cloud wakes up in shock, and Zack parts Cloud his sword and last words:

For the both of us... You're gonna... Live. You'll be... My living legacy. My honor, my dreams... They're yours now.

Cloud then proceeds with a breakdown, and afterwards begins his journey, where he'll bump into a certain someone while in Mako comatose. Sheesh I hate watching that scene due to its deadly side effect.

Where does Remake stop?

Right in the area where Zack’s grave is, a cliff with a steep descent to flat land. It’s the same spot where Zack got shot by a Shinra infantryman who pursued Zack throughout his running away from Shinra Mansion; it's the same spot where Cloud placed the Buster Sword to honor his close friend’s wish; and the same spot where Zack declared, “For the both of us… you’re going to live. You’ll be… my living legacy.” The developers intentionally stopped us from seeing the outcome of that moment because it’ll either be the same place where Zack will die, or we’ll see his fate get delayed and placed somewhere else. 

I have also seen people argue that #2 is Zack, or if not Zack, then Zack’s corpse.

This is false.

Remember why Zack was placed in a cryosleep tube in the first place? Because, like Cloud, he was considered a failed experiment by Hojo because the S cells could not turn him into a Sephiroth clone. Zack becoming a Sephiroth clone would be a major retcon to the story and how he was able to escape with Cloud in the first place. Zack becoming a clone would mean that he was never a failed experiment. And what would happen if he wasn’t a failed experiment? Cloud wouldn’t be able to escape and FF7 wouldn’t have happened. Could Hojo have picked up Zack’s dead body after his death? Maybe, but is there evidence that his corpse would still become a clone? That’s extremely unlikely in my personal opinion. We would have to assume that Hojo did another clone experiment this time around and the Shinra troops decided to take his body with them when they had no good motive or order to do so anyway. Their orders were likely  “shoot to kill” and that’s it. We don’t need Zack’s corpse to be remade into a clone, and we certainly don’t need him to be a clone if Sephiroth wants to do something like create an illusionary projection of Zack. Remember what happened in the Northern Crater? Sephiroth used Jenova to create an illusion of Tifa in order to trick the Black Materia holder into “helping” the team.

Lastly, that bag of Stamp's Champs, Original Flavor.

It’s interesting, isn't it? And Nomura told us to pay close attention to both stamps. This is probably the biggest case of an alternate timeline being real, but after thinking about it for a while, I argue that it's not proving an alternate timeline exists, but rather it's being shown to give focus to two different heroes. And how does this work in the FF7 world? Well, Shinra probably has simple rebranding of Stamp on a Shinra product. It’s not uncommon for corporations to rebrand their products into a different name (just look up Lay’s Potato Chips and you’ll come across Walkers, as shown in my poorly collaged photo). BUT there's another example to talk about, as a friend mentioned. Stamp's Champs are the "original" flavor. This original flavor and Terrier is being used to represent Zack in FF7, as he was once called a "puppy" by his mentors in FF7 Crisis Core. Now, that bag is calling to the original hero, who was Zack (could also be an homage to how Zack's design was originally assigned a "different" role in FF7 OG) up until he passed his dreams on to Cloud. So what this means is both Stamps are used for wither a different flavor or got rebranded after a certain amount of time passed, or the Stamp brand has the same flavor is different depending on the location in Gaia. Now for the second functionality for Stamp: It's being used as a red herring to mislead the players deeper in to the mouse trap. Remember Stamp’s original function in the context of Shinra? It served as a propaganda device for Shinral to promote its use of warfare for wealth to mislead the public into thinking Shinra’s deeds were for progress and beneficial for the Planet. It’s very possible that the developers are using Terrier Stamp as a propaganda device to trick the face-value players into thinking everything’s going to be different for the story until we're shown otherwise. And if it actually is an alternate timeline? It will not affect our team. As established previously, there is no time travel that our team is capable of, and the Whispers act on a fixed flow under the Will of the Planet and are almost omnipresent, so they must correct the course of destiny in the present and as quickly as possible. That alternate timeline would probably just be used to show us that no matter what we do, what’s set in stone needs to be kept in stone. So, don’t get your hopes up that Zack is going to survive, especially since he already passed on the Buster Sword to Cloud in the present "timeline" that we're playing.

But why is there a different Seventh Heaven sign shown during the ending sequence? Isn’t this proof of an alternate timeline?

Careful now. There’s a big possibility that what was shown during that shuffled sequence of events was the original Seventh Heaven bar. That’s right, there was a Seventh Heaven before Tifa’s in Sector 7. How do I know this? It’s a sidequest in Final Fantasy 7: Crisis Core. Zack met an unnamed carpenter in the Sector 7 slums and helped name the bar. The canon answer in the narrative is to choose the name Seventh Heaven. So what’s likely happening here is 1) we saw a past event of the first Seventh Heaven bar being worked on, as the folks of the slums are building their homes together; 2) we are seeing the folks rebuild the Sector 7 slums, and perhaps to honor what was once there, the folks are building another bar and making sure to keep the original name Seventh Heaven, or 3) pretty much what I said before and it’s happening in an alternate timeline. Regardless, there’s a good chance that Crisis Core is being referenced here. And if it isn’t and it’s different events happening in an alternate timeline? Once again, our friends can’t go to that alternate timeline because time travel is not a power they have. So, it doesn’t really affect the main beats of our journey. What may happen, though, is our team will visit the Sector 7 slums later down the line, and they’ll have a reunion with a rebuilt home before settling the score with Shinra and Sephiroth. Until we see it, though, that’s just headcanon.

But why is Biggs alive? Aren’t Wedge and Jessie alive, too?

Biggs is shown to be alive, yes, but at what point of time and for how long? Also, even though he is shown to be alive, how is that going to drastically alter the story for our friends? He may stick around and have a minor role later, but he could very well die again depending on where the Destiny River is heading, and there’s likely very little he can do to somehow drastically change the story. Is he going to suddenly appear and sacrifice himself to make sure Aerith survives? Highly doubt it. See what I mean? Even if someone like him is left alive, he’ll either receive the same fate in a different way or just get a role that won’t change much of the main story. So, are Wedge and Jessie alive? Wedge, absolutely not. He was pushed down Shinra HQ Tower and there is no way he was able to survive a fall that high. There is no evidence that he “survived” after that fall as well. As for Jessie, we saw her gloves and headband on a dresser next to Biggs, but that’s it. Why would they place those next to him and not next to Jessie if she’s still alive and being taken care of? She was high atop the Sector 7 tower and it’s very unlikely anyone besides our team was able to run up and grab her on time. She was also in a worse state than Biggs and probably got crushed by the tower collapsing. In other words, she got crushed twice. Once when she set off her bomb and Cloud and Tifa bump into her; the second, when the plate dropped. What the glove and headband are, are likely nothing more than the remains of a friend who couldn’t make it. There may have been time for someone to pick up Biggs and that’s how he ended up in a bed, covered in bandages. As for more proof he’s the only one who survived? Wedge had 3 cats he held. Out of the three, only one named Biggums survived. The other 2 missing, I believe, are symbolism for the fate of the AVALANCHE trio. There you have it, three charming but minor characters who had written character arcs that got fleshed out in Remake, but don’t serve an extremely important purpose to the main plot points of the game (no offense to the trio, I do like Mr. Not-Charlie-Sheen and I wonder what they will do when the inevitable happens).

This is cool and all, but what about Sephiroth's line? "Seven Seconds till the end. Time enough for you, perhaps. But what will you do with it? Let's see." Also, this Sephiroth used more informal phrasing in the Japanese acript, such as "ore." He seems to be aware of what the future holds, too. So what do you make of this?

Ah yes, this moment, also one of the first pieces of script the writers thought of:

Well friend, I actually covered this topic before:

Seven Seconds Before the End: Theory vs. Context

While that post was made to debunk a theory, I believe what I wrote in it can easily be taken into the context of this post. That's one thing people constantly overlook about this line: it already has a given context. What do I mean by that? Check out the story log here:

In the world beyond, Sephiroth shows Cloud a vision of the planet seven seconds before its demise. Having strayed from the course destiny set for them, they strike out on a path toward an unknown future.

This is what Sephiroth was referring to: the end of the Planet. Unfortunately people are taking this line WAY out of context and using it to write theories that stray far away from the line's meaning in the first place. It's part of what Sephiroth is after, and it's part of what Cloud is fighting against. The team fought against the Arbiters of Fate because they believe what they saw was the end of everything for them without seeing the long-term outcome, while Sephiroth lured the team to fight against the Arbiters of Fate because he may have seen his failure, and believes that with the physical manifestation of the Whispers gone, he can continue his plan without any chance of failure. A part of the future, no matter what seems to happen, will involve making a decision seven seconds before the Planet's demise. What will cause the Planet's demise? Meteor. That is the main calamity we are trying to stop after defeating Sephiroth, and we need to defeat Safer Sephiroth and SOLDIER Sephiroth to make sure his will cannot block Holy from being summoned, as well as prevent Aerith from calling forth the Lifestream. So once again, this is from Sephiroth's rough understanding of the future, and it's a meta message for the players of what the ending of Remake might entail. It is NOT Sephiroth from the future suddenly sending his body/consciousness into the past in a really odd moment to give Cloud a warning.

Even with all this, the ending of Final Fantasy 7 Remake stated, "The Unknown Journey will continue." What do you have to say about this?

Yes, there is an unknown journey. This is a journey with new content to tie the rest of the Compilation together, like a possible story shuffle mentioned earlier. There's bound to be new and revised scenes in between the set beginning and end, hence "the unknown journey." I talked about this before, but for the developers to put something like "The same journeys from 2 decades ago will continue" is counter-intuitive to what they just showed us in the ending and would mess with all the anticipation for what's to come next. We have to think about this in a different perspective, and not the perspective of "oh, nothing is going to change." The developers need to keep people excited, and part of keeping that excitement is marketing a tease. It's pretty much how marketing works, too. A marketing scheme that only tells the literal facts without trying to juggle the consumer's emotions isn't going to interest the consumer that much compared to the marketing scheme that teases at the possibilities. As for the reason Yoshinori Kitase will then say that the team is continuing FF7R as FF7 has? He's in a different mindset during interviews like that. The game Final Fantasy 7 Remake is telling us things like a book, ending the events with a To Be Continued cliffhanger. Meanwhile, Kitase can state that FF7R will continue as FF7 because that's technically a vague statement. We know we'll get key locations and scenes, but we don't know how they'll get fleshed out. And we sure as heck don't know about any new scenes and how those are going to be executed in the next installments. In other words, think of a classic sandwich with a hipster rendition. The set beginning and end are the top and bottom buns, the protein is almost the same, maybe a couple spices added in there; and the unknown is all the new toppings added in your hipster-style classic sandwich. I know this is a strange analogy, but hopefully it gets the point across. So don't worry too much; Nojima, Nomura, and Kitase haven't shown us the new condiments yet!

Conclusion

If you're still here after reading through my wall of jargon, thank you! After all that I've written, I hope I was able to accomplish my goal: to ease your worries about the developers' plans with the story. And I hoped to do this by giving an in-universe explanation as to why certain things are happening. There is context to the Whispers' powers, and with the Whisper following a continuous flow of destiny, pieces of the future and past are scattered in that river. Sephiroth's been basking in this river for years now, so he got similar exposure as Aerith did and now has rough knowledge of what's to come. I think people who are clinging to time travel theories are taking the Whispers' powers out of context. We saw vague bits of the future; Aerith did, Sephiroth did, we did, and do you know who else? Cloud, Tifa, Barret, and Red XIII. Heavy exposure to the Whispers gives visions as a side effect. They're not travelling through time from the future to fix things when they've always existed as dead souls who returned to the Planet; they're continuously moving around Gaia and watching folks--especially key players in saving the Planet. The flow of a river doesn't stop, it keeps moving through its closed course. Maybe it can change its course in a slightly different direction, or get shafted into sharper curves to delay the flow, but it will still head to its final destination no matter what. While we are in the current of this new course, we'll stumble upon some untouched terrain before we get to the set ending.

However, even if we know about the inevitable, that isn't going to stop us from feeling intense pain for our heroes.

Thus the journey continues.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go sit my ass down and drink some god-damn tea.

Special Thanks

@otp-oasis-heavenxearth (Also known as @magicalchemist)

For taking the time to read my rough draft and pointing out the goofs, bringing in your theory ideas, as well as helping me solidify my confidence in Final Fantasy 7 Remake's future. Seriously, if you haven't, check out her blog. She's incredibly knowledgeable when it comes to FF7 and looks through every different perspective while sticking to the facts. In other words, straight up awesome!

@silver-wield

For allowing me to cite your post, as well as being the first person that made me faithful the developers are staying true to their word with their direction of FF7R. Seriously, thanks! If you haven't, check out her blog. Her attention to detail is incredible!

[spencersglasses]

Paradise

A/N: *GIF IS NOT MINE* sup y’all! i know it’s been a phat sec since i’ve posted a fic but i was playing Paradise by Coldplay on my guitar and this idea popped into my head :) i know it’s not amazing but hope y'all enjoy!!! ALSO REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Couple: Spencer Reid x Reader

Category: ANGST with small bits of fluff

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!! mentions of blood/case details (involving children), death (of a CHILD), self depreciation, lots of crying

Word Count: 1,690

Summary: Reader blames herself for the death of a victim so she sings her heart out the second she gets home. 

———————————

3 minutes and 15 seconds. That’s how late I was. 3 minutes and 15 seconds. Because of my ignorance, a 10 year old beautiful little innocent girl is dead. 

Her name was Addylin Louise Davis, a bright 10 year old girl from Charlotte, North Carolina. She was a friend of a previous victim within this case, Tiana Lee. Best friends, inseparable, is how both sets of parents described them. I was the agent assigned to sit and hang out with Addilyn while her parents were questioned in regards to Tiana’s murder. Her parents had already told Addilyn that Tiana was, “in a better place.” Although she didn’t quite understand what they meant, she was still upset to know that she won’t be able to see her best friend again. When I was with her, I decided to ask her about her toys and what she wanted to be when she grew up. Watching her eyes sparkle and fill with passion when she spoke about wanting to become a chef. The entire time she was at the station, she never fled from my side, sticking to me as if her life depended on it. 

Now, as I stand over her lifeless body as the rest of the team cuffs and drags the unsub out of the building, I can’t help but want to scream. The tears streaming down my face were enough to blur the image of her before me. I kneeled down and held her hand, which could only fit around my ring finger less than 24 hours ago, now feeling as cold as ice. I lay a small kiss on her, praying that she’s no longer in pain. Praying that she and Tiana are having the time of their lives in heaven. 

As I was about to let go, I felt a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump slightly.

“Sorry,” Spencer apologized, removing his hand quickly. “The parents are here, the coroner needs to take her now.”

I gave a slight nod, looking back at Addilyn. I lay her hand back down gently upon her chest, slowly standing back up. 

As we walked out of the unsub’s house, I immediately saw the parents. Their faces were covered in worry and pain; they haven’t been told the news. I walked over to Hotch, asking if I could be the one to deliver the news. He gave me a sad look, slightly nodding. I nodded back before making my way over to the parents. They immediately looked up at me, seeing the pain in my face and the blood on my hand that held their daughters.

“I’m so sorry.” is all I could say. I watched as both the parents broke down before me, the overbearing pain overtaking them. I turned away and walked back towards my team, shielding my face because of the tears streaming down my face. When I looked up, all I could see were looks of sympathy from everyone. Before anyone could ask if I was okay, I confirmed, 

“I’m fine, let's just wrap things up and get home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flight back home was silent. The same happened almost every time we had a case that went badly, especially ones involving children. Most of the team were asleep towards the back of the plane while I chose to sit by the window towards the front. No matter how hard I attempted to fall asleep, all I could see was Addilyn. Every time I blinked or closed my eyes for a millisecond, she was there. 

Spencer was the only member of the team who was on my side of the plane. Knowing how I get during cases like this, he understood that I needed my space and would come to him if I needed anything. 

Once the plane landed, Hotch decided to let the team off the hook for the night because of how intense the case had been. Spencer and I immediately said our goodbyes and made our way to our car as quick as possible. The drive home was comfortably silent, Spencer being the one to drive because he knew I wasn’t in the best state of mind for driving right now. His hand was on my thigh the entire way home. Although I wasn’t one for physical touch in times like these, I didn’t mind it too much.

As the door swung open, I immediately bee lined towards the shower. Although I had cleaned up at the station, I still felt like I was covered in blood and dirt. Letting the warm water wash over my body, I closed my eyes for longer than I intended, seeing images of Addilyn pop back into my brain. I felt the hot tears streaming down my face as I opened my eyes, attempting to erase the guilt that overtook my body whenever I thought of her. I stepped out of the shower after shampooing, conditioning and scrubbing my body. I wrapped myself in a towel, making my way out of the bathroom into Spencer and I’s shared bedroom. We had decided to move into Spencer’s apartment, as it was bigger than mine and could accommodate both of our things. The smell of cinnamon and books lifted some of the weight off my shoulders and I began to get redressed in one of Spencer's old shirts and my own old basketball shorts. 

Although my body was begging me to just jump in bed and sleep, my mind was too caught up with the case to allow me the pleasure. So, I resorted to one of my most therapeutic activities. I grabbed my guitar from the corner of the bedroom and sat on our bed. I tuned it by ear before relishing in it’s beautiful sounds. I grabbed my capo that was attached to the top of the guitar and clipped it on the 3 thret, strumming downwards to make sure I was playing in the correct key. The only song I could think of when Addilyn came into my mind was Paradise by Coldplay. 

As I began strumming to the beat, I could feel my worries fade slightly before I reached the verse. But as I began to sing, everything came back to run me over like a truck.

“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep and dream of Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise. Every time she closed her eyes.” I sang, feeling myself choke up, the tears streaming down my face once again. 

Little to my knowledge, Spencer had heard you starting to sing, feeling his heart wrench at how your voice broke. He knew how therapeutic playing guitar was for you and he loved hearing you sing when you played. He was sitting on the couch, reading War and Peace for what felt like the 100th time. As he set down his book, taking a mental note about where he was, he walked over to the closed bedroom door, lightly knocking 3 times. He heard a small, “Come in,” from the other side of the door. When he turned the knob, his heart broke at the site. As he tried not to show his emotions, he asked, “Can I listen?”

I gave him a quick nod as he sat down on the bean bag chair in the corner of the room. I continued to play through the chorus before reaching the second verse.

“When she was just a girl, she expected the world. But it flew away from her reach, and the bullet catch in her teeth. Life goes on, it gets so heavy. The wheel breaks the butterfly, every tear a waterfall. In the night, the stormy night, she closed her eyes. In the night, the stormy night away she’d fly. And dream of Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise. Oh. She dream of  Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise.” 

As I finished the second verse, I looked up at Spencer. I could see the tears flowing out of his eyes as well. He looked hypnotized by my strumming and singing, as if he couldn’t hear my voice constantly breaking or going off pitch at the notes that were slightly out of my range. I knew that if I didn’t finish the song now, I wouldn’t be able to for the rest of the night, so I played through the chorus as I reached the bridge.

“La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la. So lying underneath the stormy sky. She said oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. I know the sun was set to rise. This could be Para, Para, Paradise. Para, Para, Paradise, Para, Para, Paradise. Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh.”

Instead of playing through the other 5 repeats, I brought the song to its end by playing down strums, humming the ending. As I finished, I heard a faint clapping coming from Spencer. I looked up to see that he was crying just as much as I was. I put the guitar back where it was then sitting back down on the bed, patting a spot next to myself. Spencer came and sat next to me, opening his arms for me to cling onto him if I needed to. I accepted the offer and we just sat there, hugging, crying to ourselves. 

“You have a great voice by the way.” Spencer finally broke the comfortable silence through his sniffles. I chuckled, thanking him. “I’m here for you, you know that right?” Spencer asked seriously, moving his body back in the slightest so he could look me in the eye. I nodded, finally feeling drowsy after singing my heart out. I looked back up at him, admiring his now blushed face, still a little wet from the previous tears. I give him a little kiss on the cheek before saying, “I’m here for you too. Let’s head to bed before one of the neighbors files a noise complaint.” Earning a slight chuckle from Spencer. 

[shuskas-story-book]

Just like this

‘

Art/Sauron/Cyrusk all belong to @clockworkreapers​!!!

This story is a fusion of two songs to try and get a good mix of both of the characters personalities.  Saurons song was ‘One last time’ by Jaymes Young and Cy’s song is ‘just like this’ by the chainsmokers/coldplay 

This is my half of an art trade with one of the best artists I have the honor of calling a friend and I hope that I’ve done them, and her, justice with this story. 

PLEASE NOTE Sauron is a MUTE character and is thinking all of his parts. As such I have them in ITALLICS  to help discern their parts of a conversation

please enjoy~ and Thank you so much to Clock once again for allowing me the honor of writing about these lovable dorks!!!!!

((minor spelling errors now corrected))

Two shadows could be seen passing through the abandoned part of the old town, soft whispers heard as one seems to be reading the other's thoughts. The darkness didn’t bother the two males, in fact it was comfortable for the two as they worked themselves into a long forgotten  apartment building. With the comfortable closeness they had, even with the muted troll carrying a couple bags of goodies they had a good clip to their pace. “Come on Sauron, we're almost to the top'' The leader said softly, a chuckle in his throat as his rust companion rolled his eyes.  

Yea yea I know we are Cy. We've come up here how many times now? Sauron thought to his companion, smiling a bit as Cyrusk laughed at him. “I know I know. And you know how much I love coming up here!” He hummed in return, opening the door to the roof and taking a deep breath as he stepped back out into the cold night air. 

The two were now far above the abandoned streets of the ghost town and able to really see the stars that twinkled in the sky above them. Sauron gave a soft sigh and closed his eyes for a moment before moving over and settling himself on the edge of the roof  with his feet hanging off the edge.  This feels nice. A good breeze, no neons blinding us to the stars… “No one to bother us as we just watch the sky till daylight” Cyrusk finished for his mate, a sweet smile on his lips. The rust blood looked up and let an unfamiliar quirk of a smile to grace its way over his features. 

You know, Ive been reading a lot of old books in my spare time recently. All about the old legends and myths like that of Achilles and his gold and Heracles and the gifts he received  “yea? I personally would rather read about Spider-Man’s control and Batman training with his lusus” Cy rambled in response, making a few joking jabs at Sauron's shoulder with a happy smile. The rust just rolled his eyes and let out a silent little sigh.

Cyrusk was about the only person he ever smiled for nowadays, and in all honesty that’s sort of how Sauron liked it. He hated to really show his soft side to those around him and Cy? Cy was a special case that was just for him. A special person that he could properly trust with his red quadrant. 

Of course I’ll never see myself on any lists like this, My caste doesn't really show up in the history books after all  Sauron thought to the other, shaking his head and jumping a bit as Cyrusk reached out and  carefully cupped his lover’s  cheek. “Hey…..Where do you want to go?” he asked, leaving the mute completely flabbergasted  what?

“Where do you want to go Sauron. How much do you really want to risk?” he continued to ask, his eye  lidding half way as he offered a sadly sweet smile. “Because I’m not really looking for anyone with superhero gifts. No superhero. Just us” he said sweetly, Sauron tilting his head and offering a small pout in return 

No blissful fairy-tale?.....Because in all honesty I don't want that either….I just want someone I can turn to when I’m depressed again and…..someone I can kiss when I’m feeling happy.. Cyrusk smiled and nodded, leaning in to press a soft little kiss to Sauron’s head. “I want something exactly like that Mr. Yetzar” he chuckled, getting a raspy little groan as the rust rolled his eyes, and honestly his head as well at the sappy little piece of sass beside him. 

They sat there and Cy eventually got Sauron to smile again with his shenanigans, the two of them drinking and smoking through the next few hours as the sun began to rise. With it being a weekend for them, the couple had planned on just staying in the abandoned apartments to wait out the burning rays of their world’s sun. Cyrusk managed to pass out long before his lover and it allowed Sauron to relax a bit….not have to guard himself and worry about what thoughts were running through his mind that could have accidentally been ‘seen’ by Cy’s ability. 

The rust sighed and sat up from the pallet they had managed to set up so he could turn his eyes over to the window that was covered up with black curtains to block out the light of day. You know Cy...I’m fading… and it's much, much too fast for me… God, I could drop off the face of the planet right now and… Cy’s voice rang in his head from earlier  “I want something just like this Sauron. Just the two of us here on this rooftop. Nothing special, just us and a couple good drinks” 

I’m fading much too fast for you...you deserve so much more than my love. The rust looked back to his lover and took a chance to reach out and lightly caress the bronze blood’s cheek with a sad little smile. I’m waiting for it to pass… When I’m with you I don't feel like I'm about to fade away into nothingness, that I'm going to just slip away. He admitted to himself. The heat of Sauron’s fingers caused Cyrusk to groan softly and shift to his side, prompting Sauron to finally lay back down against his lover. These days were always so long, always full of sleeplessness for the rust….but with the warmth of another beside him that he trusted he was able to fall into a mostly restful sleep.

*********************************

“You know Sauron, last night's conversation kinda niggled at the back of my mind all night…. And it reminds me that I read a few older comics recently you know?” Cyrusk hummed as the two of them were settled right back on the rooftop with a fresh bag of drinks and snacks. “ and even though they were just comics you could really recognize the testaments they told and what legends and myths they actually followed” he rambled, Sauron rolling his eyes a bit and taking a deep drag of his cigarette as he continued to listen. 

“They went through this one arc where the moon was eclipsing and superman had to fully unroll a costume to change into instead of just having it ready under his normal suit! It was so interesting to see that differential!” he hummed, eyes turning up to their moons with a smile. You know I'm not the kind of person who really reads comics right? Cyrusk sighed and shook his head a bit with a pout “you realize that I don't care about that right? We ramble back and forth and that’s just our way of showing our love right?” he asked, head tilting to the side lightly as he reached out to move some hair out of Sauron’s face. 

The rust was spooked a bit at the sudden hand in his face but relaxed a bit as he turned a tired little look to the other. He took a deep breath and put out the end of his cigarette before pulling his legs back off the ledge of the roof and facing the bronze with an oddly forward motion of reaching out to cup Cy’s cheek

Cyrusk....we only have one more night before I have to leave on an assignment for a while…..Can I just….feel your skin against mine for the day?..... Before I have to say goodbye? He asked curiously, a tilt to his head Or just…. I don't know…. I feel like I can't breathe tonight. I want to breathe one last time, I want to be able to feel your breath  against my skin, share your breath again…..before I have to go on my assignment. Cyrusk just listened in confusion before melting at his matesprit’s words. He leaned into the touch and kissed Sauron's palm with a sweet smile “of course…..Where do you wanna go for this? Do you want to lay down and cuddle? Do you want to take a risk and go on a joyride with a busted drone?” he asked, trying to offer Sauron something that wasn't just wallowing in the despair and anxiety he could see settling in his love's eyes. “You know I'm not looking for anyone with special gifts or a high position in life so even if we just sit here it’s all I could ever ask for” he hummed, shifting over to press his thigh to the rust’s gently.

“You don't have to make our lives some kind of fairy-tale, you just need to stay here and stay alive so I have someone to turn to… and someone I can miss when they’re out on assignments” Cy chuckled softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Sauron’s cheek gently as the rust wrapped his arms around the others waist in a tight hug. 

I feel like my world’s been losing its light Cy… “well then let it loose light. I’ll be here with a flashlight and a candle for when the batteries die” he hummed, pulling Sauron in for a tight hug “I want to stay just like this…..”

*********************************

The day had passed once more, leaving the two with precious few hours to spend together like this. Sauron woke up first of course, not really having been able to sleep through the day and just listening to Cyrusk snoring seemed to help the day before. He sighed and closed his eyes as he allowed himself to have a moment of peace. His arms wrapped around the bronze as he buried his face in that fluff of hair that always seemed to hide that eye that he loved to see. 

I have to leave soon…..pack my bags and get on the train....this is a cold, cruel world we live in huh Cy?  He thought to himself, sighing and staring off at the far wall as he just let himself sit in the relative silence of their embrace. 

“Hey Sauron? Where’d you wanna go if we could just risk it all and leave right here and now?”

Sauron turned his eyes down to Cy’s sleeping face and smiled a bit to himself as he listened to his memories. No pleading could turn back time for us to redo this weekend….. I’m glad I spent it with you Cyrusk… You mean the world to me, even if I don't tell you or show you as often as you deserve. You tell me you aren’t looking for someone that has super powers or a lot of money but…. I do want to at least bring your life a bit of joy from time to time

Sauron hadn't noticed Cyrusk waking up, having zoned out as he thought and got settled with his chin on the other’s head again. The bronze smiled a bit and nuzzled up into Sauron's touch, accidentally causing the rust to jump and pulling a sleepy little chuckle out of the bronze’s chest. “You don't gotta be so dour…. You just gotta be someone I can turn back to and kiss when ‘m happy” he hummed softly, Sauron smiling sadly. 

Good evening Cyrusk….. He thought in return, honestly happy to just be there for once. Cy….is it ok that I can feel your skin against mine? He asked softly, head tilting lightly as the bronze in his arms stretched a bit he got a nod in return and relaxed again with a rumbly little hum in his chest that wouldn't really have a sound anymore. I’m safe….I have someone to kiss before I have to say goodbye again….. I can breathe again tonight…..as long as I have you in my arms I can always pull through and breathe so much easier than if i was on my own he thought to the other, getting a sweet smile in return

“And you know what? I want nothing more than this right here. I want you to be right here, happy, safe, and feeling like you are free as a bird” he hummed sweetly, the alarms on Sauron’s phone starting to go off to warn them of their time together dwindling. The rust glared at his phone as though it had told him he was unlovable and reached over to smack the screen so it would shut up. 

“Hey Sauron?.....Can we share one last cig before you go?...give you a chance to calm down again before the walk home?” he asked softly, sitting up with a soft groan and another stretch to pop his back. Sauron nodded and stretched out now that his lover was sitting up instead of being curled into a singular position against his chest. 

Yea…. I’d enjoy one last chance to take a deep breath of you so I don't curl up and die on the ride to the next town over. Cy frowned “How about lets don't? I’d like you to come back so I can hug you and tell you how much I missed you while you were gone!” he huffed, poking his love in the side and getting an almost squeak out of the lanky male.  Sauron pouted and glared at the other with a huff as he sat up and crossed his legs before getting a good look at his lover and giving a small little smile. You know what Cy….My world might be losing light but….I think it’s just so you can burn a little brighter…..

 I love you

“I love you too”