#my friends and I were jamming out to cinematic in the car

[spiltsoup]

I love how Owl City will just Say Anything in some of his songs

What is a “spin doctor” Adam

[pedges-world]

Moody Frankie:

Ohhh I needed this. I've never written for Frankie, and was greatly inspired by "Do Me Yourself" by @jolapeno. I can see the Pedro Boys are going to need more of my attention if they are going to be so...attentive to us.

Triggers: smut, friends to lovers trope, fingering (f receiving), quick exit (friends with benefits?), slight profanity...

There weren’t words for description, but you were quite the sight for sore eyes. Ponytail hidden beneath his oversized hoodie, sweat pants, smeared mascara and finger poised, hovering just above the doorbell. You and Frankie had a standing date every Friday night to watch wrestling. Well, it wasn’t a date. You were friends. Good friends. But tonight was different. You sniffled awkwardly, a ball of emotions, cinematic masterpiece, standing in the rain. The rain for f@cks sake. Jesus Christ. What are you even doing? Your hand trembled slightly as you considered your options: quietly run back to your car, text Frankie that you had a searing headache, claim that…

“You’re late, chica!” The door swung open abruptly catching you wide eyed and unprepared, as Frankie stared at the flickering television screen, beer in hand. Swallowing dryly you quickly stepped inside, relieved that he hadn’t made eye contact with you. One look and the jig was up. Frankie was the friend you had always wanted. Somehow he didn’t treat you like one of the boys, but also never made you feel uncomfortable for being one of the girls. Of course, there was that one time at the bar, playing pool, when his hand had grazed your ass “accidentally” after a few too many beers. But that was just fun and games. Tonight was anything but. Tonight, you were unhinged, but Frankie was unaware. As usual. You wondered how long you could keep up the facade.

“That was TOTALLY illegal!” Frankie bellowed from the doorway, slamming it shut and jamming a beer into your hands. “Sorry it’s lukewarm” he stated matter-a-factly, eyes trained on the television and shoving magazines and pillows off of the couch for your convenience. “How was work?”

Here you had encountered a problem. Words. Frankie was expecting words. And you were all worded out. The day had gone colossally wrong. You HAD been plagued by a searing headache, yelled at by your boss, attempted to circumnavigate the Friday existential crisis, and found yourself red-rimmed and hiccuping at Frankie’s doorway. Frankie. His oversized hoodie draped over your hands as you fidgeted nervously with the beer bottle. Maybe if you just kept quiet the wrestling match would keep him occupied long enough to pass out on the couch. Just a little longer…the silence seemingly stretched into eternity.

“Helloooo?” he chattered, slapping your knee good heartedly and turning down the volume slightly. “I haven’t ordered pizza yet, but we never seem to go wrong with pepperoni” he reached up to tug at the hoodie and froze mid sentence as he took in your disheveled appearance. “Dude. Are you…?” he caught you mid hyperventilation as you stilled, attempting to blend into the couch like camouflage.

“J?” he muted the tv and leaned into your personal space, splaying his hand across your abdomen. You bit your lip painfully, twisting your head to the side in discomfort. Don’t make a sound, you thought ruefully, your hand twitching at your side. Wouldn’t know what to say anyways, you chastised, somehow delusional that you could keep up this act for much longer.

He grabbed the collar drawstrings with a gentle tug, turning your head back to center. “What the…?” he paused taking in your smeared mascara and wobbling lower lip. “Talk to me” he intoned, grabbing your knees with one hand and pulling them towards himself.

You opened your mouth but only produced a small, pathetic whimper as no words materialized. Paralyzed with indecision. What were you even doing here? 

Frankie’s countenance immediately softened, his brown eyes somehow growing warmer still as you looked around the room for escape. You sobbed, mouth closed, trying to appear less unraveled than you already were, but the day had completely bulldozed your resolve. You grasped the edges of the hoodie sleeves, hanging on for dear life. 

“Have you been drinking?” he asked lowly, gently taking the beer from your hands and setting it on the coffee table.

You shook your head from side to side profusely. Wouldn’t that be nice for an excuse. Nope. This was all you. Deranged. Disheveled. Unraveling at your Friday date. That wasn’t a date. Sobbing during wrestling.

“Okay” he acquiesced, leaning back slightly and taking in your full deregulated vibe. “It’s like a guessing game” he mused, trying to lift your spirits slightly. You tilted your head onto the couch  drawing your knees to your chest in exhaustion, willing him to telepathically interpret.

"Work was a shit show” he smiled dolefully as you nodded with placation. “Your boss continued to be an asshole” he nearly chuckled as a small smile tinged at the corner of your mouth “and you had another migraine” he guessed, drawing one finger across your forehead compassionately.

Your smile shattered into a thousand pieces as he guessed EVERY SINGLE DISASTER OF THE DAY, burying your head into the sleeves of his hoodie and drinking in the fragrance of cologne and beer.

His eyes widened in concern seeing the distress of the day in real time, gathering you up into his arms and placing you neatly on his lap as you dissolved into fits and sobs.

“Okay, okay, okay” he nurtured, rocking you back and forth slowly, bringing his hand up under your knees in a basket hold. “This was NOT what I was expecting for Friday Night Fights..” he joked, bringing a hand to the back of your neck and shushing you quietly.

You were too embarrassed to say a word, but tried to steady your breathing. NONE of the guys could know about this. What a f@cking mess. You couldn’t believe how out of line you were, but you felt yourself melting into his embrace, incapable of offering excuses of any kind. The two of you must have stayed that way for 5 or 10 minutes, in complete silence as you tried to reason your way out of this predicament. You needed him. Right now. This was about more than the day’s disasters, this was an accident waiting to happen, and you needed it to happen NOW.

You tilted your head up, locking eyes with him imploringly, wondering how far his telepathy extended. You watched his Adam’s Apple bob hungrily in his throat as his eyes darkened with lust. He chewed his lower lip in a moment’s hesitation. “Do you need more?” he rasped, wrapping his hand dangerously around your upper thigh, fingers dangling precariously close to your need. A primal grunt throbbed in the back of your throat as you nodded quiveringly. Frankie licked his lips, pausing to consider the ramifications of his next actions as your eyes widened to doe-like saucers, pleading, pleading, pleading.

Without another hesitation, he aggressively reached up past the elastic waistband, digging his fingers into the arousal soaked lining of your sweatpants. Groaning with desire, he notched his fingers at your entrance, touching his forehead to yours. “You sure?” he questioned one last time, feathering his fingers around your folds and teasing your clit. Your eyes rolled back into your head as it lolled to one side against his shoulder. “K” he decided, a near military precision to his actions, sinking two fingers quickly into your heat.

Something between a moan and sob escaped your lips as he scissored and circled your heat in practiced strokes. Your body seized up in immediate pleasure, writhing and crying with need as he grasped you underneath your legs. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you” he repeated over and over again as you lost yourself in the repetition. “You’ve got me, you’ve got me” you silently mouthed the words over and over again as wave after wave crested over you with a powerful comfort. You couldn’t believe how quickly you were coming in his arms, weak from the day’s exhaustion, mascara’d tears dripping sloppily down your face. “There you are…” he croaked, circling his hand to a better position as you clenched and throbbed around his fingers, dripping down his wrist. “Feel that?” he pointedly asked as your eyes shot open in surprise. Oh yes, you most definitely felt that. A hot pressure cascading through your body that was quickly overtaking any stresses you had brought with you until 3…2….1…

You cried out in euphoric anguish, gushing over his fingers and hand, not able to register any embarrassment in the shadow of the overwhelming warmth and ecstasy flooding through your body. 

Frankie, Frankie, Frankie…The thought swirled in your mind, keeping time with the circular ministrations of his fingers, over and over and over again. He continued rocking you in a basket hold as the television lightly flickered in the darkening room. You drifted into a contented haze, safe in his arms and humming contentedly into his neck. At some point you felt yourself floating onto the couch, draped with a blanket and kissed lightly on the forehead. You tried to respond in gratitude but words continued to elude you. 

Hours later your eyes sleepily drifted open to see empty beer bottles, magazines, a half finished pizza and…post it note? You cleared your throat, sitting up sloppily and gazing around the room. Frankie’s tell-tale hat was missing as you blinked rapidly, trying to make out his haphazard writing:

Work emergency. Gone for a week. Drink water. Talk soon.

You sniffled messily, rubbing your eyes with irritation and clocking the small water bottle sitting at your feet. You chuckled with chagrin, astonished at the night’s developments.

Talk soon, you thought, jamming a cold piece of pizza in your mouth for breakfast and nibbling at the corners. Talk soon.

@realjensenackles1 @groovy-hippie-chick @maddiemadden @kadifromtheblock

@beefrobeefcal @sawymredfox @strang3lov3

@aotfantasmagorias @inept-the-magnificent @djarins-cyare @lemonwizard

@timelordfreya @schnarfer @devineconjuring @quicax3 @joelalorian

@bitchwitch1981 @wordywarriorwrites @janaispunk @pedroswife69

@katiexpunk @i-own-loki @vaininsane@yorksgirl

@spookyxsam @mermaidgirl30 @mandolover37 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog

@joelmillerisapunk @jennaispunk @sheepdogchick3 @marcus-is-my-muse

@susanpaul111 @littlemisspascal @zaniasky @shaunasflannel

@anelva @shinyanchorobject @brittmb115

@morallyinept

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Final Fantasy VII Review

 Year: 1997

Original Platform: PlayStation One

Also available on: PC, PlayStation Store

Version I Played: PlayStation One

Synopsis:

The Shinra Electric Power Company rules over the city of Midgar, and the eco-terrorists AVALANCHE stop at nothing to try and prevent the life essence of the planet from being used as energy. Barrett, leader of AVALANCHE, hires a mercenary named Cloud Strife for their bombing mission on a Shinra Mako Reactor. Cloud doesn’t care much for the greater cause and only wants his pay. But then, after a mission goes awry, he meets Aerith, a flower girl who is the descendant of the Ancients. He quickly finds himself wrapped up in the greater conflict against Shinra.

 Gameplay:

Final Fanatasy VII utilizes magic spells via Materia – little orbs that come in a variety of colors pertaining to the natural elements. You can mix and match them on your weapons and equipment, which gives you access to different spells and stats. All your equipment varies with the number of slots for how many Materia orbs you can put in. Leveling up not only upgrades the character but the equipped Materia as well.

 Final Fantasy VII also uses an ATB system but is known for introducing Limit Breaks – finishing moves that build up after the character gets hit over time. Final Fantasy VI had a prototype called Desperation Attack – but it was very rare as it only appeared when your character had 1/8 of their total HP, and there was a 1 in 6 chance of performing the Desperation Attack after selecting Attack. I actually had no idea that was a thing until long after I finished the game, and never experienced it when I played Final Fantasy VI.

Graphics:

Out of all the Final Fantasy games, I have to say that this one has not aged well. It has the worst graphics of the entire series. The battle and cinematic graphics are passable.

(Most of the graphics power seemed to be put in Tifa’s, uh, bosom.)

But the characters in towns, the overworld, and in-game cutscenes are incredibly blocky. PC versions are supposedly sharper, but the PlayStation One version makes it nigh impossible to see any facial expressions. 

The graphics are definitely a product of its time. I always say that the beginning of 3D gaming was essentially like puberty – awkward and full of zits. It wasn’t yet at that stage where it could be aesthetically pleasing. We marveled about it when it was first released, yes, but then we cringed in retrospect.

The environment backdrops however are probably the strongest points, where they capture the industrial nature of Midgar, the reactors and other such buildings.

Story:

Final Fantasy VII became legendary the minute Square released it. Every aspect was memorable. Part of it could be due to the fact that it was the first Final Fantasy game to enter the 3D realm. Another part was Tetsuya Nomura’s character designs, which hit the cool meter to the point of sub-zero.

 The cinematics blew our minds. The opening action scene with Cloud, Barrett, and the rest of AVALANCHE attacking Shinra’s mako reactor is the most memorable opening to a Final Fantasy game. Period. Final Fantasy games really do know how to start at the right spot, no matter how good or bad the overall game is. The opening is always the best part.

Then there was the motorcycle chase. Cid’s airship. The gun fights. Battles with Sephiroth. The extra stuff to find, like summons and extra bosses. So much was jam-packed into the game.

 But the story was the primary factor in making VII famous. It’s definitely one of the better ones. Man, the story became so famous that even gamers who haven’t touched a Final Fantasy game knew the major spoilers. It is the equivalent to knowing Darth Vader’s line, “I am your father” without having actually watched Star Wars.

Aerith (Aeris in the English releases) Gainsborough – the innocent flower girl who holds the secrets of the Ancients – develops a romance with Cloud and fucking dies at the end of Disc 1 by the main villain – Sephiroth. The scene shocked everyone and practically made headlines. Everybody has seen the horrible image in one way or another.

It seems to me that since Final Fantasy V, the stories have gotten more and more used to main character deaths, ultimately transforming into a heavy-hitting TV series rather than simply a video game series. In other words – it matured. Looking back, Final Fantasy IV appears to be child’s play and a prototype of later dramatic storylines with fully realized worlds.

 Final Fantasy VII was also the first Final Fantasy game to create a world much like ours – one with cars and trains and airplanes and machine guns and even cellphones. The main city of Midgar reflects industrialization at its worst, with miles of slums and claustrophobic cities. Shinra Electric Power Company is a reflection of capitalism at its worst - a single entity in charge of so much that it’s pretty much the government. For the first time in a Final Fantasy game, you play as characters who dance between the morally ambiguous line of terrorism and activism. Funny enough, the theme of neglecting the planet resonates with us now more than ever. This game ended up being rather prophetic about the uncontrollable growth of corporations.

While the story is memorable with many intriguing elements, the plot itself is a tangled web. In my opinion, they really hashed in so many things that it’s easy to forget crucial details. It’s not straightforward, but at the same time everything does connect by the end. While Shinra is the driving force as a whole as the villain, Sephiroth takes over, then you learn about his backstory and then with the evil scientist Hojo and the extra-terrestrial Jenova and then “Weapon” and then the planet’s history and this and that and the other thing.

If I were to put Final Fantasy VI and Final Fantasy VII together and contrast them, as many gamers do, I would find that Final Fantasy VII is the summer blockbuster and Final Fantasy VI is the Oscar winner. Final Fantasy VII started introducing the sappy romance subplot to the series. A love triangle forms among Aerith, Cloud, and Cloud’s childhood friend Tifa. While there’s nothing inherently wrong with having a love triangle, the writing is like watching middle schoolers trying to express their feelings. Final Fantasy VI and Final Fantasy IV treated any romance with dignity and realism.

But maybe I’m being a bit harsh. After all, Cloud Strife did go through some suffering as an adolescent. His backstory clearly drives his antisocial behavior, so that becomes a good arc. 

The goofiest but memorable part of the story deals with Don Corneo and Wall Market and running around store to store doing tasks in order to free Tifa from Don Corneo. It ends with Cloud needing to cross-dress as a woman to get inside Don’s mansion. Because, you know, it’s not like Cloud can just break in with his sword and Aerith’s magic or anything like that. But whatever. It’s anime.

The recent Final Fantasy VII Remake for the PS4 seems to streamline the story, and actually enhances the emotions they were trying to deliver in the original. I will be talking about the remake in a separate post altogether since I’m almost done with it at the time of this writing. But there’s a lot that I want to say about comparing and contrasting the remake and the original.

The latter half of the plot takes a couple weird turns. At one point, Cloud became catatonic and confined to a wheelchair.

That part of the game became the sluggish part for me. Sephiroth also tries to confuse Cloud, which confused me. Cloud apparently suffers from some alternate subconscious mumbo-jumbo and like. . .ungh. I get an aneurysm thinking about it sometimes.

Complicated plotlines like Final Fantasy VII start showing up from here on out in the Final Fantasy series. The trend of bishonen characters also begin here, bishonen being the Japanese term for “beautiful boy.” Cloud and Sephiroth have that look. The series starts hashing in sappier romances and much more of an anime feel.

Final Fantasy VII ultimately marked the start of a new era for the series – introducing both cool and overused tropes.

Music:

Hands down the best Final Fantasy soundtrack of all.

The entire soundtrack of this game is memorable. The opening tune, with its light twinkle when the stars show up, is enough to make any gamer know exactly what that’s from.

With a story set in a more modern world, we have music that is more modern. After Final Fantasy VI had a more serious and operatic score, Uematsu displayed his love of progressive rock here. The motorcycle chase incorporates a lot of synth, which was fitting for zipping through the streets of Midgar. However, Final Fantasy VII is the first Final Fantasy game without that familiar starting bassline for the battle them. The battle theme is instantly recognizable but also radically different from its predecessors. It’s dramatic and displays danger.

Meanwhile, the boss theme is one of the best boss themes in the series, or any video game really. It’s an electrifying progressive rock piece, and it’s my personal favorite boss theme.

 The more instrumental pieces are somber, given the dreary atmosphere of the planet. The world map music is very different from its predecessors. It’s romantic one moment, soaring the next, and then dips into foreboding terror. I guess that sums up the story of Final Fantasy VII.

And we cannot leave out One-Winged Angel, which I will talk about below.

Notable Theme:

Without a doubt, One-Winged Angel – played during the terrifying final battle against Sephiroth – is the most memorable piece of music in Final Fantasy VII.

It may very well be the most popular song of the entire series. Nobuo Uematsu was inspired by Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring. It’s a whopping 30 something minute classical piece. If you look it up on YouTube and browse through it, you can definitely note the similarities. However, Uematsu didn’t want some boring classical introduction to the piece. He wanted to add the destructive impact of rock. The theme has a very distinct stamping-your-foot-down quality to it.

I had noticed a certain piece-by-piece feel of the song and that’s exactly how Uematsu composed it. This is the only song that Uematsu has composed where he created several tunes in his head and then rearranged them to make a single comprehensive song.

If you want to get technical, One-Winged Angel is the first Final Fantasy song with lyrics. The chorus sings in Latin about Sephiroth’s burning anger, with some lyrics actually taken from the medieval poem Carmina Burana. It sounds fantastic when fully orchestrated.

In Advent Children, the animated sequel to Final Fantasy VII, the music is accompanied by hardcore metal. This new rendition really illustrates the destructive power of Sephiroth. Uematsu changed the lyrics for Advent Children. They are more original now. I specifically noticed the lyrics “Veni, veni, mi fili”, which translates to “Come, come, my son.” Sephiroth is inviting you so he can kill you.

 Uematsu has stated that the original orchestration didn’t sit well with him. As I suspected, Advent Children’s hardcore metal version is the one he preferred, the one he would have composed had he the technology at the time of Final Fantasy VII.

Verdict:

Another must-play for any RPG fan, even if you think it’s overrated. It’s a must-play because of its popularity, in the same way that people are wide-eyed when you say you haven’t seen Star Wars or such-and-such other popular movie. It’s a whole lot of fun, especially in the scenes that involve other forms of gameplay, such as the motorcycle chase and even a battlefield strategy game in protecting Fort Condor. 

Direct Sequel?

Yes – first there was the CGI movie Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children.

I actually watched Advent Children before playing Final Fantasy VII. I had already known most of what happened in the game and Advent Children became a monumental craze when it first came out. Everybody was talking about it. Watching the sequel before playing the game skewers your interpretation of things. My first impression of Cloud was that he was always whiny and angsty, and meanwhile Tifa kept nagging him to move on. I felt really bad for Cloud losing Aerith.

Then when I actually played Final Fantasy VII, I saw that Cloud starts as this badass mercenary. Tifa is spunky and clearly is the better choice (IMO) but Cloud is enamored by Aerith after only meeting her briefly. WHAT? Cloud. Bro. Make a move on Tifa, you nitwit. Tifa is AMAZING.

 Square Enix then continued the story with Dirge of Cerberus – Final Fantasy VII. This video game sequel focuses on Vincent Valentine, a fan favorite of the original game.

Let me remind you about something – the original game revealed Shinra’s inner deep secret experiments, namely with Sephiroth and Jenova. Dirge of Cerberus introduces an even deeper research team within Shinra called Deepground. I don’t know about you, but it already sounds like the start of a terribly redundant string of sequels, like how the Jason Bourne movies keep revealing an even deeper level of conspiracy theories. Vincent’s mysterious background is now fully revealed. He is defined by – guess what? – another angsty lost lover story, this time with a woman named Lucrecia. Now, okay, look, maybe I’m just being a dick about these types of love stories. But when it keeps popping up within the same series in the same manner, I start asking if you have anything else to offer on your menu.

Lastly, there is the prequel for the PSP – Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII. Of all the games in the Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core has received the most positive reception. If anything, play that after playing Final Fantasy VII before bothering with anything else.

 Oh, and of course there is the Final Fantasy VII Remake, which we thought wasn’t going to happen for the longest time but they finally released it in April 2020. More on that later after I finish it, and after I post my entire series of Final Fantasy reviews!

[codenamed-queenie]

Okay okay. Headcanon for you. So Bruce just being Done With Everything is damn hilarious, especially to his sons. My headcanon is that they have their own secret little competitions to see who can get him the Most Done. Surprisingly? Tim has won twice in a row.

Bruce being Done is my favorite! 😂 I like the way you think @nxxttime

—

Unsurprisingly, it was Dick and Jason who started the game with the simple question: ‘just how many Space Jam references can I fit into this League Briefing before B loses it in front of all his Super Friends?’ (answer: 13)

And from there, it all just sort of escalated.

Batman is Tired™ and Done™ 105% of the time, but getting a rise out of him is surprisingly rare. Cracking the stoic man like an egg is one of the kids’ favorite pastimes, but while it’s fun to see their dad Lose It…bonus points are given for the I Give Up Face.

What is the I Give Up Face, you may ask? Simple: It’s what happens with Bruce Wayne has transcended anger and annoyance completely and is now on a whole ‘nother plane of apathy. It’s a beautiful thing to see.

And every Batkid has one objective–to be the first person to get the poor man to make that spiritual transition.

As a rule, Dick goes errs on the side of subtlety–little buttons that he just knows to press in order to get a rise out of Bruce. Thrown-in references, irksome words and phrases (i.e. moist, slurp, lugubrious, etc. Alfred got him a dictionary for Christmas, and Bruce’s jaw almost popped out of alignment.) But when he’s in the mood for something a little more noticeable, he sings pop songs off-key over the comms or in Bruce’s ear while he’s trying to study case files. (The most effective ones include Toxic, Call Me Maybe, Mama Mia, and anything by Ke$ha) He’s also not above poking Bruce when he’s being ignored.

Jason, though he can be subtle when the situation calls for it, absolutely thrives on brute force. How many times can he shove Damian off a roof or toss Tim out a window before Bruce busts a blood vessel or five? How many times can he go ‘undercover’ wearing nothing but street clothes and a stick-on dollar-store mustache before he makes his dad look into the camera like he’s on the Office? How many times can he leak ‘confidential information’ to the press in the form of macaroni art and Cut-And-Paste notes before incurring Bruce’s wrathful frustration? The answer might surprise you.

Barbara’s method involves strategy and finesse. For instance, why send Bruce that data he asked for right off the bat (pardon the pun) when she could send a blank file with this:

Or even with this gif, if she’s feeling particularly devious:

Admittedly, Barbara’s the one who gets the least I Give Up Faces out of Bruce. But she gets bonus points for getting him to scream the loudest. The man’s lost five phones to the Gotham City Streets after throwing them in blinding fits of rage.

Damian is like a cat, in that his strategy involves metaphorically placing his finger on Bruce’s metaphorical coffee mug and slowly edging it off his metaphorical desk.

Never. Breaking. Eye. Contact.  

He does this with almost everything. Deliberately breaking rules or bending guidelines in just the right way. Pressing that button. Flipping that switch. Diving off that building. All as he makes absolutely certain that Bruce is there to watch him do it. For Damian, it’s all in the eye-contact. The forceful, yet silent declaration of ‘I can do whatever I want, and there’s not a thing you can do to stop me, father,’ is one of the most surefire ways to get Bruce to Lose It.

Cass is Bruce’s sweet angel child, and would never do any of this to him!

(She totally has, but nothing they can prove. Nothing’s ever been successfully traced back to her.)

Duke’s backtalk is usually Guaranteed to get the I Give Up Face. Not that it’s disrespectful or overly snarky–quite the opposite, in fact. No, no. It’s phrases like ‘I see your point, but why do we have to jump off a roof. Wouldn’t jetpacks make more sense?’ or ‘Maybe I’m wrong, but the giant dinosaur’s kind of an eye-sore, don’t you think?’ that send Bruce off into a dissociating silence.

Duke is 100% aware of what he’s doing, but he gets supreme satisfaction from the ‘naively innocent’ routine. The key is to say his piece at just the right moment. Duke is exceptionally good at gauging Bruce’s level of volatility. So much so, that his new siblings will often  come to him to ask just how far away Bruce is from the tipping point.

Stephanie is a ‘Jack of All Trades’, you might say. She picks and chooses from her siblings’ strategies and methods. And then she amps up the ante. To Steph, ‘bigger is better’ isn’t just a turn of phrase–it’s gospel.

Dick’s blasting ‘Dancing Queen’ over the comms? Cool, cool, but what if we broad-casted it over the League’s party line at ten times the volume? Jason’s coated the batarangs with pink glitter? Let’s set a spring-loaded trigger in the Batmobile, rigged with forty-eight pounds of the stuff. Barbara’s screwing with Bruce’s data feed? Hack his visual feed with an eighteen-hour loop of Rick Astley’s Never Gonna Give You Up.

Out of all of them, Stephanie is the one with the most I Give Up Face wins.

But Tim?

Tim is a force of chaos that is not to be trifled with. As unpredictable as the elements, and twice as frightening when the occasion calls for it. The only reason that he doesn’t have the most wins is simply because he never actively participates in the game. But he’s done everything from sleepwalking, to publicly embarrassing Bruce, to T-Posing in places where he shouldn’t. (i.e. on top of a GCPD patrol car or barrel of toxic chemicals.)

Twice, Tim committed acts that triggered the I Give Up Face so quickly, so completely, that the others could only gape, and declare him the winner.

The first was during a bank robbery. The gun-toting thieves pointed their weapons at Batman, Nightwing, and Red Robin and screamed, “Don’t move or we’ll shoot!”

Tim proceeded to Fortnite Dance enthusiastically.

Bruce could only stare off into the distance (the thugs were watching, transfixed, with expressions of horrified fascination) and contemplate his life choices. After the fact, Dick swore to anyone who’d listen that he’d never seen Bruce dissociate that quickly.

The second time it happened, Tim was once again on Live Television (a foolish decision that the Wayne Enterprises higher-ups have finally learned from and vowed never to repeat). He was supposed to be giving a speech, but instead, blankly stared at the crowd, and proceeded to recite the entire script of the 1975 cinematic classic, Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Tim refused to be removed from the stand, and managed to fight off security while somehow keeping his mouth close to the mic.

Bruce came to terms with the fact years ago: he may lead a dangerous life. He may put his life on the line daily, nightly, and every moment in between. But it won’t be the villains or the thugs that finally kill him–

–it’ll be his children.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

The End of Year Awards Are Back... and This Time, It’s Personal!

And so we approach the end of 2020, the year that never really began. On paper, at least, it looked incredibly promising. There were lots of great movies slated to come out; culture seemed slightly less paucity-riddled and pointless than usual; good things were in the air. Then COVID happened, and basically fucked everything. Actually, that’s not quite true: my personal year has been fucking spectacular. I’m in a long-term relationship with a gorgeous woman for the first time in forever- no more abrupt trysts and stolen moments for yer humble narrator: I’ve got a sumptuously plus-size lady-friend who actually wants to spend substantial amounts of time me (and has knockers you could sled down, were you so inclined). I also started a Youtube channel where I upload performances of magic tricks I’ve designed and a few people seem to quite like it. Oh, and I’ve written four novels, with a fifth well on its way to completion. Unfortunately, that’s my life, not the life of our civilisation and culture as a whole. The fact that bugger all happened in that makes this end-of-year round-up a little hard to write. With that in mind, I’m going to hand out the gongs for 2020, but I’m also going to do my usual dodge of giving end-of-year awards to things that I discovered in 2020, even if they came out the year, decade or century before. It’s not like any right-minded person gives a hoot about my opinion anyway. Right then, everyone clear on the rules? Then let’s roll up our sleeves and plunge elbow deep into the fetid trough of our decaying society to ferret out the best and worst of the Things That Humans Have Done Recently.

The ‘I Like It Because It Confused Thick People’ Award for Best High-Concept Sci-Fi Movie... … Goes to the sterling Tenet, a spy film that used entropy inversion and symmetric, opposite-direction timelines within the same physical space the way most spy films use hacking and guns. Christopher Nolan films are always intricately constructed and meticulously-executed, but this one must have had Japanese Master Puzzle-Box Makers crying into their breakfast cereal. Is breakfast cereal a thing in Japan? I honestly I have no idea. For some reason, all I can imagine is a sort of dry kedgeree where all the ingredients that aren’t rice have been removed. But I digress. For all its intricacy, Tenet is actually really easy to follow once you’ve grasped the basic premise that there’s a machine that lets people move backwards through time, and that this makes them appear to move in reverse to the rest of the world while they perceive the rest of the world as moving in reverse. Nolan maintains a mastery of cinematic visual language that makes even the most abstruse concept easy to wrap your head around. Nonetheless, following Tenet’s release, dumb people took to the Internet on mass to complain that the film was confusing and stupid, never once realising that their inability to conceptualise time in non-linear ways was their own failing, not Nolan’s. I find that refreshing. It’s nice to see a sci-fi film that’s actually made for smart-cookie sci-fi fans and doesn’t give a hoot if it alienate thickos.

The Award for Most Inexplicably Compelling Web Comic… … Goes to Questionable Content. I originally started reading Questionable Content because I’d heard that the female lead and love interest was a plus size lassie and that shit’s my jam. However, the art style makes everyone look like a skinny indie-type, regardless of their actual, in-universe size, so it doesn’t do much to titillate my Fat Admiring Titillation Centres. And yet, I’m over five hundred ‘episodes’ in and still reading. The thing is, I couldn’t tell you why for the life of me. Maybe it’s the hope that the art style will evolve to the point where the people look like actual human beings with different body types (but then, why would I care unless I was invested for some other reason). Maybe it’s the fact that when I get one of the many, many obscure band or pop culture references, I feel a little buzz of kinship with the writer. Maybe it’s the fact that it takes place in a universe where robots and superheroes are things that regularly happen, yet most of the strips are just normal people chatting shit in a coffee shop and the slice-of-life narrative/sci-fi setting appeals to my sense of juxtaposition. I don’t know, but I find it really compelling to the extent that I’ve pissed away entire days reading it. I have a horrible feeling that it’s a short step from this to really angsty hentai. If I start singing the praises of that, somebody please shoot me in the crotch.

The ‘Forest Gump Debating Peter Andre’ Award For Most Sustained or Elongated Instance of Stupidity… … Goes to Donald Trump. I was tempted just to award this gong to his entire presidency, but that wasn’t just stupid: it was also venal, corrupt, horrifying and punctuated by terrible moments of low cunning. So, instead, this award goes to his ‘soup’ rant. For those of you who missed it, the former President of the United States spent a really, really long time (in the run-up to the election) wittering on about protestors throwing cans of soup at police. What was dumb and weird about it was that he appeared to be extolling the virtues of soup as a siege weapon, going into really specific detail about how it was better than a brick because it could be thrown with more force, finishing with the utterance that protestors would just argue that “this is just soup for my family” if they were caught with the cans… which is phrased wrong in such a subtle and inhuman way it’s hard to imagine that anyone actually ever said it, at least in those words. I have no idea if protestors in America were throwing soup cans at police (which would be entirely justified considering how many innocent people American police have murdered in cold blood quite recently) or if this was a fantasy dreamed up by the former president in the cloudcuckooland that is his diseased little brain. Either way, the connected rant was balls deep in dumb.

The Most Disturbing Unintentional Impression of Vincent Price Award… … Goes to the narrator from One Step Beyond, a Twilight Zone-esque anthology of weirdness that purports to be based on true events and has to be seen to be believed. The stories are oft-disturbing instances of spooky-inflected human drama and can occasionally be quite disconcerting… until they’re book-ended by a dude who sounds like Vincent Price reading a children’s book in a really earnest voice. It’s weird and no, it didn’t hit our screens in Space Year 2020, it dates back to Ye Olden Times of the 1950s or 60s, when men were men, women were women and technincolour was a distant dream that could get you strung up for witchcraft. Nonetheless, I only encountered it this year, so it’s getting its prize. I warned you I was going to pull this shit, but you foolish fools didn’t listen.

The ‘It’s Not Gay If I Don’t Clench’ Award for Cognitive Dissonance… … Goes to Amazon Prime, the content-making branch of evil, tax-dodging, anti-monopoly-law-breaking megalith Amazon. You see, while Big Daddy Amazon is off being incredibly sinister and worrying, like a shifty vampire hanging off the economy’s throat, the creative people at Amazon Prime are busy making or acquiring some of the flat-out best TV ever committed to a streaming-service, from the extra-weird slice of fun-pie that is The Tick, to the entertainingly horrifying cultural dissection of The Boys to the utterly unique Carnival Row, to the superbly adapted American Gods. It’s a bit like discovering that Geoffrey Dahlmer single-handedly created a body of artistic work to rival Vincent Van Gogh’s when he wasn’t pouring acid onto the brains of emotionally vulnerable young adults. It gives me a headache.

The Clint Eastwood Award for Most Effective Older Gentlemen… … Goes to Joe Biden, for unseating dipshit in chief Donald Trump with the casual badassery of a Wild West gunslinger shooting a baddy (probably played by Leonardo Di Caprio) in the balls. I mean, he’s not the best Prez America could ask for but a) as a Brit I don’t have to care and b) anyone who ousts Trump gets mad props from me.

The ‘It’s a Pity Everything Else is Shit Now’ Award for Best New Ongoing Series… … Goes to my own Youtube series, Victor The Magician, in which I claim to be a reality-hopping, interdimensional wizard on an endless quest to… perform magic, basically. I’ll admit that the quality is super-variable (Youtube algorithms and their constant demand for fresh content be a harsh mistress, etc., etc.). However, when I’m good, I’m really good. If you’re looking for a punch-line other than the fact that this whole bit is a self-promoting plug, it’s this: my Youtube series really was the best thing to come out this year. Not because I’m great or anything, just by default. A promising year really did turn into a cultural wasteland the moment COVIDius Rex reared its scaly head.

The Zombie Ian Curtis Award for Most Crushing Disappointment… … Goes to Rick and Morty Series 4. As I think I’ve said before, it was still good, but it just didn’t reach the dizzy heights of nihilistic lunacy achieved in series 1-3. I think the problem is that the audience is meant to learn something from Rick’s poor choices, even if he doesn’t, because the creators saw the amazing success of Bojack Horseman and decided they wanted a slice of that sweet, tangy deconstructionist pie. It worked up to a point in the climax of Series 3, but having made their point, the showrunners probably should have moved onto a different point. They forgot that the appeal of Rick Sanchez is his combination of ‘entertaining car-crash of a human being’ and ‘unstoppable superbeing’. Push him through an arc and you risk breaking the thing that makes him and the show so endlessly watchable. Rick, unlike Bojack, just wasn’t built for heavy introspection. Also, the team hired on new writers who were less than familiar with the characters, setting and subtext, and that’s always an invitation to disaster.

The Special Sir Mixalot Award for Posteriority… ...Goes to… my girlfriend and glamorous assistant, Mystic Miss Terri, who’s arse is gorgeous and majestic.

The ‘Are They STILL Making That?’ Award for a Show You Forgot Existed And is Now Back… … Goes to Supernatural, which never technically went away and whose final series is apparently being broadcast on one of the 4 channels (though who knows which one, any more), It’s kind of nice to realise it’s still out there and be reminded that there are still people who care deeply about what happens to it. It’s like when you remember ‘oh yeah, [insert cute animal here] actually exists and isn’t just an internet meme. That’s nice’. Also, it’s good to see Jared Padelacki working steadily. It can’t be easy to find acting gigs when most producers just want to shoot you and mount your antlers over a fireplace.

The Irritating Magician Award for Something That Just Won’t Fuck Off… ...Goes to this blog entry, which is three pages long in Word. Good grief. Bye y’all! See you next year, assuming that the last few days of 2020 don’t culminate in a civilisation-destroying attack by giant space-ants. If that seems worryingly specific, let’s just say that- as Leonard Cohen would say “I’ve seen the future and, brother, it is murder”… by giant space-ants.

[borkthemork]

Nightly Escapade (A Messy Drive Date Connverse Fic)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General

Words: 5,158

Pairings: Steven/Connie (Connverse)

Summary: Movies are perfect. What's not to like about them? They're stories told on the big screen, they could leave you shaking from the flood works or clammy from the explosions and ticking timers, and, most importantly, it's the best plan if two lovers ever wanted to go on a date. For Connie and Steven: planning a movie date was easy, there's nothing better than preparing a good ole' car of refreshments for a long drive, but executing it (without it going wrong) was another thing entirely.

Reblogs are appreciated!

He should've gotten them sooner.

One could retort that he only heard of the movie details today, but he felt guilty regardless when he eyed the lack of vacancy when he tried to apply his—newly gained—credit card to it. It was a one-in-a-million (or was it a billion? He'd have to ask Connie later) experience, and since his jam bud now had access to PG-13 movies just like he did, they thought it would be a great time to start something. An adventure. Or was it a date? A cool date adventure!

…

Dateventure!

Hahaha, he was a genius!

When she arrived at his house—naïve to the idea being dashed to shreds—he told her of the lack of tickets, feeling the crummy jumble of his heart with each shift in expression Connie had. She was looking forward to this film; she would rant and rave about Ghibli films like they were cinematic masterpieces, leaving him confused but intrigued. He never touched a Ghibli film before, so it was a beginning bout of interest that made him ask what was so special about them in the first place.

"You don't understand," she lamented when asking days prior, "Princess Mononoke was way ahead with its themes and dynamics regarding nature and humans. I would trade my own hands—not really since I need them—to see it on the big screen! To see it on any type of high-definition!"

Who knew Delmarva starved for this kind of content? Well, he should've recognized this when Ronaldo brigaded him with film advice but he never really took those consolations in a serious light. Even if he did, he still would've been short of time.

Now they’re here: Connie pacing in his room under the beating weather; fingers on her chin, her shoes clicking on the floorboards with hardened focus. "Well, we could see another movie since it's not that big of a deal."

Steven was fumbling with the wrinkles of his bedsheets, the screen of his laptop closed in a subtle defeat. The guilt fettering his torso. "I'm sorry, Connie. I know that you really wanted to see it."

"Hey, it's all right." She smiled at him. "Even if we can't see the movie, why not just go on the date, anyway?"

She stumbled with the word when it came down to it, shooting him an awkward glance. His stomach was bound in a knot; this was the first time they ever mentioned it out loud.

"Yeah!" He piped up, cheeks flushed in heat. "Nothing can stop us, we're jam buds after all!"

A petal-soft laugh. "Jam buds 'til the very end."

With that, they got started. The problem with planning—and the advantage of their duo—came down to the many ideas flung around the room like paper balls in the occurring scuffle for supplies. Steven would suggest something and then Connie would add to it—flinging it back to Steven and then back to her—until the ideas they've manifested became more like snowballs the size of boulders. So the tiny notion of a movie date transformed into a nightly car date, the dondai befitting blankets, a radio, a grocery bag of snacks, and other accoutrements such as the medkit bunched in the back. When asked about it, Connie remarked with a simple, albeit embarrassed, "better safe than sorry" as they listed off their roster.

"So, let's get this plan straightened out one more time," she announced in the car, Steven saddling up his seatbelt and fiddling with the ignition. "We're only following the routes near the coastline. I have some money we could use if we ever run out of gas cans. If we see an ice cream stand, we're definitely stopping for it. And—"

"We'll drive to Viewover Point so we can watch Unfamiliar Familiar at the drive-in," he concluded, churning out a carnie accent. "Now in 3-D with a limited purchase of Archimicarus and Lisa chibi plushies for only nine ninety-five!"

She laughed. "Correct! And we'll buy ten of them, five for you and five for me."

"What about fifteen?"

"Twenty?"

"Thirty!"

"Fifty!"

Both of them exploded into giggles, Connie playfully smacking with his shoulder. "Just drive!"

The engine growled to life. With the sun still perched in the sky, the two of them drove off with a rumbling trail of radio music and road-crunched gravel, not a single worry in mind; just two best friends against the long-winding asphalt lines.

-----

There’s a thing Steven had to learn the first time he began his traverse into the world of semi-adulthood: that driving had a few loopholes that society was okay with trespassing into. In one particular memory, he attempted and went with the minimum speed range in Ocean Town—following the procedures, being loyal to the rules for the sake of being a good Samaritan—only for a cop car to drive alongside his window to force himself to speed up, whose eyebrow quirked in irritation. Apparently, the road he occupied was one lane, and the townies (ranging from a mile long) behind him weren’t happy about it.

He tried to laugh it off, brush it off like it was sand peppering his shoulders, but Connie was with him when it happened. She never let him down for it. Ever.

And that’s what lead to them bolting past the Beach City safety limits, windows popped open—gushing them with the wind—as the two hollered over the Mike Krol ratatat’ing their space. Overall, he’d like to thank Beach Town for this valuable lesson. He’ll never forget it.

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end!” Connie held an unopened granola bar, singing into it as Steven did a clean turn, the tail of their car following the drift in consecutive ease; the windows displayed to the right reflecting sheens of the calm ocean, skies bearing unrestrained galaxies from light-years away.

She directed the granola towards him, who yelled out in glee, “and you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends!?”

“I guess we don’t even need to use the phone!”

“I don’t need your answer, I’ll be spending it alone!”

Cue the dance break. Connie did a little jig in her seat as he rocked his head to the remainder of the rhythm, heart battling in his chest, hoping that his attentiveness could keep them alive at the presence of the cliff that loomed to the right of them. Their laughter was of pure delight, wild and untamed, the childlike initiative riling them like cinders.

At the introduction of the woods behind an impending crossroads, he made a left turn, cutting into the Delmarva wood.

“Wait, that’s the wrong way!” Connie said.

“What!” He tried to turn it around but it was too late. The car clipped from the road, leading them scrambling in a quaking mess, the vehicle gatling its way into the unknown, into the webs of branches and darkness.

Ears pounding with the tremors.

The violent shudders.

Dissonant heaves.

And groans.

It then stopped. A warmth enveloped them in a luster of pink, the car remaining still as the creaks of its metal came to a halt. He looked over to Connie, easing his heart when he saw that she looked fine. Disoriented, confused, but fine. The windows were crowded by brambles, of hardwood needles, trickles of murk peaking in between.

He groaned, rubbing his head. The dizziness settled down. "Strawberry, you okay?"

"Roger that, biscuit." She unclipped her belt, heaving out breaths as the two of them calmed their frazzled senses, inspecting the enclosed space around them with unease. They were settled in the belly of a mechanical beast, brittle with cracked glass and wretched frame, the outside covered in dimly lit brush. "That was a close call though. The air bags didn't even work."

"Either that or my bubble’s forcing it down." He considered the sturdy barrier. It wasn't a bubble, looked more of a compartment that twitched and receded when they moved too much in the limited spacing, glowing its familiar hues and glint. He needed to meddle with this later. "We should get out though."

A brief nod. "Agreed."

He didn't know how long it took. All he could focus on was the buzz in his ears and the careful work he did to keep the bubble (morphing and melding to his command) under control as they crept out by the backseats; courtesy of Connie, who didn’t hesitate to pierce one of his windows with the medkit when the doors didn’t budge.

In the final shimmy, the two of them plopped onto an unsteady incline of dirt—the bubble dissipating—keeping hold of one another until the pathway below them cleared to unrooted ground. Glancing through the canopy overhead, Steven thought of it as a giant colander; how the moon pouring into his sights a few moments ago was now trying its best to sneak past the floral arms, to catch him even while shrouded in cold.

"Okay," Steven felt Connie's hand wrap around his, easing up as she started to move, his eyes trying his best to follow her outlines. She pointed to a mess of lights opposite the car, meshed with the silhouettes of broken-limbed shrubbery. "We came from there. Let's try to get some cell service, that way we can get a tow truck to our location and the dondai."

"Oh, man." Steven looked back at his car, a wheeze in his throat. "Yeah, we definitely need a truck because the car's donedai!"

Nothing but an awkward chuckle. "Stay focused, Steven. Let's go."

The woods were thick with underbrush. Portions coddled them in aggravating clumps, having them push and shove their way through. A good thing about Steven, however, was that they ignored this with a snap of his bubble, hamster rolling their way out through the elongated tunnel they burrowed through the brier. He would minimize it when the arching leaves and branches were too stubborn to part, and sometimes the spikes protruded from them like machetes, ready to press and nip them into splinters.

"How far did we drive in?" Connie mumbled after a few minutes passed. Leaves nested themselves in her hair, the scuffs on her arms still muddied from their vehicular escape. In all honesty, it reminded him of earlier days, where they wandered the Delmarva wood with nothing big to solve, their imagination pulling their way to the next great exploit. "It looks like we’ve gotten way off the mark."

He winced. “Don’t worry, we’ll be okay.”

“Steven, are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” He told her. “I’m just pining for a way out, you know? We’ll be fine in no time.”

“Steven, we've been at it for five minutes.”

"If that’s the case we're in a sticky situation then," Steven said, letting out a high-strung chuckle. "If I just took the right turn, we woodn't be here."

She halted in her tracks—the boy tripping from the stop, saving himself before he slammed into the bubble. "Steven, tell me."

"Hm?" He looked over, scrambling straight. "Why d'you stop?"

"Something's on your mind," she said. "And we'll not take another step until you spill the beans."

"Well, the beans are back in the trunk."

"Steven!"

He jumped. "Okay, okay! Sorry, I won't joke about beans anymore."

"That's not what I'm talking about here." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, fatigue on her lips. "Something's bugging you; I don't want to make any assumptions so you need to be honest with me." Her countenance softened, Steven bristling at the slight squeeze of his hand. "Please."

He wasn't the kind to turn the other way, especially with the plaguing memory of separation that tailed him ever since he lied to her two years ago. A promise was a promise, a solid bond of trust he’d never wanted to break, and even if the anxiety toiled and fought against him, he couldn't help but be reassured that Connie would still be there regardless. She was his jam bud. His confidant when the times oozed by. One of the few people he could open up to in a clear fashion. What was he afraid of? Nothing, hopefully.

He released a sigh—ladened, heavy-like. "I don't know, I just feel like such a dunce sometimes."

She knitted her eyebrows. With a swift beckon of her hand they sat down, still enraptured in rose pink; words soft, gesturing him forward. "And?"

"We were having such an amazing time," he crossed his legs, not helping the lean for warmth as she pulled him towards her, the thump of her pulse meeting with his own, "and we had these plans, these amazing plans, but I was able to ruin it in a single minute because I didn't follow the route." A scoff. "A new world record. It makes me wonder why I deserve you sometimes if I could mess up something simple like a dateventure."

"Hey, now!" They held contact, her voice stern. A shudder overcame him, feeling the slivers of grit in the way she spoke. "That's not true. Trust me when I say this: you're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I'll not let your self-doubt believe anything else. You messed nothing up, I’m serious about that."

"But the tickets."

"They were out before we even checked on them."

"The dondai."

"We'll find a shop that'll fix it up."

"But what about Viewover Point?"

"From what I've heard the reviews weren't that good." She shrugged, fingers weaving through his chocolate curls, careful and diligent, each press to his scalp making his lids heavy. "And I wasn't gonna enjoy the movie anyway if you weren't there to have fun with me."

“So, you’re not mad.”

“I could get mad,” Connie murmured, “but what’s there to be mad about? We’ve been through worse stuff than this, way worse, nothing will make me full-on angry with you, period. You’re important to me, and I’d rather fix our messes than leave someone else to fix it for us.”

The dance of her fingertips made him hum, clouded, lifted elsewhere to a softer portion of his mind; he wondered if Connie always had this effect on people, to calm them with the rationality and pin-point affection that they needed? Or maybe it was just him who felt that way? Maybe he cared too much? Perhaps...it was enough.

He allowed himself to breathe—in and out—until the tension in his shoulders melted to nothing; heaviness still resided, but everything appeared more comprehensible now, less complicated than what he described in his brain. With it came an idea. A goal. Something to accomplish. He affixed her a look. "When we find some wifi, would you like to stargaze with me?"

She chuckled. "Why wouldn't I, you dork?"

"I just wanted to ask." He stood up from his place, inviting her with an outstretched hand. She reciprocated, comfort collecting in his palms. "Because if we’re going to make the most of it, we might as well enjoy each other’s company."

Her hand tightened on his, thumb brushing down on his knuckles. “An adventure then.”

Steven nodded, beaming of joy—heart rattling in his chest. “A dateventure.”

“Fine.” She snorted, motioning them forward, the light at the end growing to the size of a faint firefly. “A dateventure.”

Their trek was masked in the brilliance of pink, holding on to the other as the illumination in front of them grew to the size of golf balls—relieved that the bubble saved them from bumbling ceaselessly in the dark. With their advancement, they went faster. Each spike pierced the natural fetters, leaving Steven in a fit of elation when they pushed through, their barrier popping at the final trudge.

The floor was a mess of tickling thicket. He giggled at the brambles, dirt crawled up into the niches of his jacket. Connie was beside him, stretching her legs as she stood up, noticeable in the newly acquired light.

The environment returned to quiet solitude. Steven gave it a mindful gaze: in front of him were the dug-in trenches left from the remainders of the dondai's wheel tracks, each recess printed with its cross-cross and trailing-black smears; the moon brought itself past the covering of shaded evergreen like an angel, leaving them doused in glare; the road was discernible against the earth, cracked and marked with fading yellow lines, making him wonder how deep the direction would've gone if he kept course.

Connie ushered them to walk.

The trek emulated his reveries. Calls of the night sang to them in a cacophony of rustles, hoots, and night creature scuttles; Connie, in her rousing, stopped at certain points to name plants and animals that festered around them, easy to find when she raced off to examine a retreating mammal or lizard.

"That is an owl, of course." She noted the furry-cocoon from a faraway tree, who, if one faltered their blinking, shot them split-second glances with worn yellow specs. "Probably a great-horned owl; look at the tufts on its head!"

Steven squinted. Above the brow, the bird adorned furry wisps, reminiscent of a character from Connie's favorite series. "Wow! How did you know?"

"I had a book about Delmarva geography before. I sold it since I didn’t have much use for it when I finished, but I'm surprised it came in handy now."

He pointed over to the trees. "Then what are those?"

She rubbed her chin. "If I could recall, they’re sweet gum trees...or maybe black gum. I don't remember the difference between them," she admitted.

"That's cool, though." He told her, surveying the wildlife, a wonder pooling on his own. "How come we never do nature walks? It's so peaceful here." Even if the shadows lingered, he emitted of pleasure, the crave of curiosity like a boy first exposed to something new. This was one of the few times where he didn't feel like he was about to perish under some forsaken weight; the concept of having himself run around in terror or disgruntlement long over.

“We just never had the time to. With the two years you’ve been busy and my space camp involvement, the prospect of it never hit me,” she nudged him, a zephyr trailing past them. “But it wouldn’t be too late to start now.”

He grinned. “You see any hills, captain?”

A tilt of her head. Then a pointed finger to a far off ascent. “There!”

“Race you there!” Without hesitation, Steven broke off into a sprint.

Connie, in a fit of snickers, darted after him with an undignified yell.

Fast-smeared colors. Blur of the tenebrous. The rush of one’s ears, laughing in bounding race, lighting the sky with ardor. Fireworks—music—bursting with each spring and skip, Steven crying out in gaiety. Pain and guilt weren’t his master, for he took the reins of the woodlands and made them his own; satisfaction kindling his heart to the size of a bonfire.

When he stopped he took his time gulping down air, throat blazing with invisible fire. He couldn't stop his giggles, the feeling of euphoria that rushed over him like a hyper song; Connie enduring the same, their giddiness flowing to the remains of the land—down below, sprinkling the billowing leaves of their victory.

The ground became their beds, lounging them in verdant cushion as the sky opened up to glowing display. Stars. A cascade of twinkling fires that Steven tried to frame in his hands. Bringing them to his eyes, he examined each one with starry wonderment, Connie whispering to him now and then when he asked a question.

"What about that one?" He directed a finger to the corner of the night sky.

"That’s the Big Dipper."

"And that one?"

"Mmm," she fumbled, clicking her tongue. "Aquarius? It's hard to pinpoint from all the stars—they're so bright you'd think I'm mistaking Orion for something else."

"I don't think that's a problem." He commented, fingers lifting towards the speckles, connecting each one with imaginary twine. "It just means we'll have to work harder to solve the puzzle, and as long as we got each other it shouldn't be that hard."

She released a cool wisp of air from her lips. "You're so sappy, but the sap was definitely needed."

A frown. "What's wrong about being sappy?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," she told him, sincerity leaking through. "You're the sappiest guy I've ever met and...I can't help but adore how loving you are, it just fits you so well.”

"Who, me? I'm just being my wittle self," he cooed, her laugh accompanying it.

"See?" Her hand returned to his, brushed by the moonlit turf. He felt light, the world appearing to slow down with each breath he took, heart bumping like a wave-carried boat. "Who wouldn't love to have someone like you? If I never arrived at Beach City on the day we met, then we wouldn’t even be here. Just enjoying the view."

Joy rose from his chest. "Enjoying you."

"What was that?"

"That, that was a—!" He sputtered.

She burst into laughter, cheeks dark under the light. "Oh my lord!"

"I'm sorry! It just slipped!"

"Steven!"

"I meant that I enjoy your company," his voice was desperate, cracking like a misaligned symphony. He sat up in a panic. "Not like in a weird way, I'm sorry!"

"Steven, Steven!" He went taut; she didn't look mad or grossed out or judgemental. Instead, she was hugging him, keeping him still with each moment that passed—arms returning the gesture in a tight embrace. "It's okay. It's really sweet of you!"

Steven groaned. "But it sounded so weird, I didn't mean to gross you out."

"You didn't." Connie kept him close—fondness pulling on her lips, chuckle carried off into the cool Delmarva breeze. "You're just being yourself."

Steven considered it. Even through his panic he never restrained his smile and the rush of closeness that came with it, he kept put, taking in her proximity. "Did we call a tow truck yet?"

"Oh." They pulled away. Connie rummaged for her phone. "Nope, we still have to do that."

Steven placed himself back onto the ground as she started a conversation on the phone—shadows painting her in a soothing color, moon cradling her figure. Slow and winding, gifting them of a connection that pushed him down to rest. The natural, the dark and hushed, all of his surroundings gestured to a lullaby, massaging him of burdened weight. His eyes drew closed. Exhales lingering, languid in the crisp weather.

A click of the phone resounded. Then a rustle, settling down close to him with a small grunt. Crickets chirped their song, hoots traveling overhead. "I gave them our location. We'll just have to stay put."

"That should be no problem." He stretched out. "We're the masters of it, after all."

A snort. "You’re right."

Listening to the shuffle of grass, Steven added on. "We should plan another one after this."

"Another call?"

"No, I meant the thing we're doing right now."

“The dateventure?” She asked.

“Mhm.”

Hesitancy. "Uhm, I guess."

"Well," Steven flinched at the noticeable lilt in his voice. "If you don't want to do another one, then that's okay."

"No, no," she blurted. "I want to. I'm just thinking about something."

"What are you thinking about?" His gaze still prepped up at the sky, coursing by them in a crawl.

"Just a few questions...about us." The sigh from her left him restless. What about them? "We've always been close, really close. You've noticed it, right?"

A few moments came to mind: movie nights on the weekends, blanket nests sheltering them in watchful rest; boardwalk strides with cotton candy and snow cone mouths, carrying a blue-striped bear won over from a ring toss stand; close talks at sleepovers, imagining the hereafter, breathing in the possibilities they have—which was what they're doing right now as they speak.

"I've noticed."

"It always made me wonder." She started fumbling with her fingers. "Why haven't we started dating sooner?"

"I," a quick exhale, "didn't think it would be such a big deal."

Quiet. The question raised high above their heads, Steven squirming in his place. That was a good question, why didn't he ask her earlier? He never gave it much thought, for the idea seemed unnecessary—they were good enough as is. Nothing stopped their cuddling, nothing stopped their intimate affection when consequences encumbered them above, nothing stopped them when they had their first kiss. The only thing they’re presumably missing was a label. They didn’t need it. They would still be close even without the titles of 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'. Or 'lovers'. Or even 'jam buds'. The question left was:

"Does it matter?"

"It does to me," she spoke under her breath. "We've always been close; I'm just curious about why it took so long on my end. Was I antsy? Afraid?"

"For me, I guess I was just waiting for you." The words stunned him. It was the only answer he had, the rest of him trying to pinpoint a more exact reason. "I felt comfortable with what I had, just being there by your side, so the only change between us is if you made it official...if you get what I mean."

"I get it." The flight in her reflection—pulling out from the dip in tone prior—brought him to relief. "Then I'm glad I asked." An idyllic hum. "Clarifications are everything, well, communication in general; I didn't want to worry about going on an assumption, or just toeing around it like last time."

"You're right," he said, pulling overgrown bits of grass under him. "I should've told you when you first kissed me."

The noise she made piqued of chagrin. "Oh man, you still remember that?"

Steven smiled overhead, hoping the stars humored them. Out of all the personal disasters they’ve done together, he didn’t mind that their affection lead to their foreheads banging together—it was his favorite memory. "In clear detail."

Connie groaned, hands wringing through her hair. "That was so embarrassing."

"I don't see it that way. I'm thankful for it." He snickered.

"Steven, noooo."

"It made me realize you were flirting with me before that!" Her hand pressed against his mouth, leaving him to struggle and teeter under her in muffled hysterics.

"Steven Quartz Universe, you need to stop talking right now!" She was in hysterics too, Steven trying his best to wrestle his way out. "Cease your lies!"

"Never!" He wheezed, face red as an apple. "You can't deny the fact that you were!"

"Shut your mouth!"

The struggle continued. He didn't know how long it went—seconds, minutes—but the next thing he could perceive was the taste of mint. Bubblegum. Pine needle. Face cradled in her hands. He couldn't conjure a word when she parted from him, mouths agape, keeping them bathed in lunar splendor on their glorious hillock.

A moment of breath. Then another. Each one keeping their eyes on the other, lips turned in candy-sweet beams.

"You didn't use Wikihow this time?"

She smirked down at him; a pepper-light kiss pressed to his forehead. "Steven, I'm already beginning to regret this."

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He reassured her, happiness emanating from his smile.

Contentment. A solid form of trust he wanted to cherish for hours and hours on end. If all he could do was just ask for the day to become never-ending, tend to a cycle of rendezvous and silver lining with her by his side, then things would’ve been perfect, but he knew the future waited for them—to grow up, to adore each other without the pressure of failure, to seek comfort in times of rock bottom.

There was no going back, huh? The label was there, they just had to use it. Nothing would change even if he uttered it. "I love you, Connie."

But there was satisfaction in hearing it. "I love you too, Steven."

Then came the rotund buzz—vibrating between them with a shocking velocity—both of them clambering back to their regular positions as Connie, who dug her fingers into her pockets, conjured her phone to the edge of her ear. "Hello, who's this?"

Pinpricks of noise sputtered from the receiving end. She bit her lower lip, nodding sparingly throughout. "Okay, okay. Pearl, we're fine, but please bring the emergency medkit just in case."

"Wait, Pearl is on the other end?"

Connie nodded before returning to the call. "Garnet's right. We went through an accident but we have our location if you want to come pick us up."

“Can I say hi to them, Connie?” He tried to look over her shoulder.

"Yeah, sure!" She then rebounded back to the caller. "Steven wants to talk to you guys; yeah, we’re on a hill, and I have a moderate battery life so you could call us when you get here." She handed him the phone.

“Steven, are you there?” The high-strung inquiry left him sweating.

“Yes, it’s me, I’m fine!”

“Oh thank goodness, Garnet told us you two were in trouble a few minutes ago and we were worried sick.” Something gushed against the speaker, clipping of the audio for a second. “Amethyst is bringing us there as we speak so it won’t take long!”

"That’s great." He peered over to Connie. "We got out of the car with no bruises, and we're just on a hill waiting for help."

Pearl’s tone sharpened. “I know you two will keep together but stay where you are, make a smoke signal if you have to.” Staying put was enough as is. “We’re on our way!”

“All right, I love you guys!”

"I love you too, Steven, keep in touch. Use your powers if you find a scratch, we don't want an infection."

"Will do."

With that, the cell went dark. Steven placed it back to Connie’s palms as they reclined, allowing themselves to wade in the sea of green; the wind picking up now, billowing through their locks, as they busied themselves with the heavenly sights. Pondering on the situation at hand.

“Hey, Connie.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t we just ask the gems to lift the car out instead of calling a towing service?”

“Oh.” Silence. “Oh my God, you’re right.”

He shot her a sheepish look. “Well, at least I got to spend time with you, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

Even with his limited view, he knew that she was flushed, Steven grunting at the half-hearted punch to his shoulder. “You’re showing your sap again, dork.”

"At a time like this, sap ain't that bad, especially if it means I get to do a sneak attack!"

Falling on her like a tilted stone, she shrieked as they resumed back into a fit of wrestling, hearts strung to the sound of their mirth. There’s nothing wrong with a little sap, he thought, for the night was still young. And the future was theirs.

[rorybergstrom]

𝑫𝑰𝑫 𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬𝑩𝑶𝑫𝒀 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑨 𝑩𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑹𝑶𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑲𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑻𝑯 𝑳𝑶𝑹𝑫  ???

            hello, it’s nora again…. hitting u with another child. a south london-born softboi who deserves tenderness. has a burner phone and doesn’t use social media. does techno dj sets. plays the synth loudly through the night if u live in gorham his room always sounds like a space ship just landed. deals weed around campus on his rollerskates. hates that he can’t get new light up wheels because ana coto made rollerskating cool again. as is tradition, here’s the pinterest board. this intro is recycled?? so if theres mistakes, sue me??? and be sure to like and subscribe for more unboxing content x

application.

『 FIONN WHITEHEAD ❙ DEMI-MALE』 ⟿ looks like RORY BERGSTRÖM is here for HIS JUNIOR year as a MUSIC TECHNOLOGY student. HE is 23 years old & known to be ECCENTRIC, FANATICAL, NITPICKY & DOGMATIC. They’re living in GORHAM, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ ooc name. age. tz. pronouns. 

aesthetics.

bed hair from a permanent state of slumber, calloused fingertips from strumming bass into the early hours and djing into the blacklit night, self-help books thumbed once and thrown beneath your bed, battered copies of choose your own adventure books, spliffs passed half-arsed across rooftops while light pollution obscures low-hanging stars, marxist literature in stacks against your bedroom walls, a burner phone twice-shattered and a stash of replacement sim cards.

tw ocd, anxiety, drugs

half-swedish, half-british. the swedish is on his mother’s side. he’s bilingual but thinks in english. only really speaks swedish around his mother. only child, and kinda put a lot of pressure on himself to be the perfect kid when he was young, but his parents are honestly, quite decent? and just want him to have a nice life, they don’t care if he isn’t successful or rich or anything, they’re honestly rather solid. (wow imagine having nice parents, a first for all my characters, im literally this meme)

grew up in peckham, a suburb of london. growing up, his mum was a model / actress / waitress who later retrained as a speech therapist and his dad worked in her majesty’s service at buckingham palace. his dad wasn’t allowed to tell his family what his job entailed but rory suspects it’s probably very boring and just involves a lot of…. logistics n security.

was bullied a lot at school. [cole sprouse voice] he didn’t fit in and he didn’t want to fit in. unironically wore a trenchcoat to school every day of his life. spent most of his lunchtimes in the library because it was his safe space. as a result he knows…. loads of useless information because 30% of his school years were spent reading anthologies on space and the vikings etc. would be good on a game show. obsessively recorded every episode of university challenge as a child.

middle-class and lowkey quite wealthy but rarely talks about money, one of those well-off people who still wears really old shitty shoes and only spends money if they absolutely have to

virgin who can’t drive

into star wars, not into the big bang theory. feminist. can’t watch horror movies

favourite film is where the wild things are. also loves the florida project. thinks kids are the sweetest thing and can’t wait to be a dad to some. right now is dad to one cat, whose name changes on a daily basis (identity is constantly shifting, duuuuude), but they were originally named ‘wheezer’

rory has been musical for as long as they can remember. first picked up guitar because he thought it would make this girl esther who he was in love with like him, but he just ended up falling in love with music instead.

formulated several different bands as a kid but ultimately had to give it up cos he was quite controlling and got fixated on making a certain sound so it wasn’t really fun for the others. got into electronic music because it was something he could do basically on his own and keep tweaking until he got it perfect

always drumming their fingers or strumming invisible guitar strings. tends to avoid parties bc he has quite has specific tastes when it comes to music and doesn’t like listening to r&b for eight hours while people throw up into plastic cups.

a techno connoisseur. has been making electronic music since he was about twelve.

after his parents divorce, when he was fourteen, rory & his mother moved to run-down suburban neighbourhood, pittsfield, massachussets.

big into photography. he mostly uses a canon 35mm camera, but occasionally uses disposable ones when he wants that more rustic feel.

moving to the states, their photography became more focused on suburban neighborhoods and are often quite dark and cinematic (think gregory crewsden). here are some shots of pittsfield i really like which rory has on his wall [1] [2] [3]

falls in love 12 times a day. never had a girlfriend or boyfriend. gets sweaty when someone cute looks at him. flirting?? what?? would prefer to idealise them from a distance

gender??? hm. doesn’t really know where he fits yet, sometimes he feels like a guy and sometimes they dont feel like anything at all. isn’t really bothered, cos they think it’s a social construct anyway. uses he/they pronouns interchangeably, but feels like ‘he’ is more fitting. won’t necessarily pull anyone up on it cos he knows having an identity that’s constantly…. in flux.. can be annoying for others … and doesn’t want to be a burden even tho it isn’t at all?? rory internalises guilt

everything is socially constructed. mirrors let you move through time. the whole thing’s a metaphor. he thinks he’s got free will but really he’s trapped in a maze. in a system. all he can do is consume. people think it’s a happy game. it’s not a happy game — it’s a fucking nightmare world, and the worst thing is, it’s real and we live in it

has ocd. tries to let it affect his life as little as possible, but obviously it’s incredibly hard to control a compulsive disorder. was teased for it at school when other kids started to notice. he was obsessed with the number five, would wash his hands five times, count stairs i groups of five, he could only use the corridors in one direction and always had to keep his hands busy. it manifests itself in hyper-fixations (trains when he was a child – specifically steam engines – then later he became obsessed with space and the patterns of constellations, and now he’s obsessed with synthesizers) and repetitive behaviours like counting stairs. doesn’t really affect his social life at all, he can jst get a bit locked-on n hyper-focused sometimes.

has insomnia. barely ever sleeps. finds it hard to switch off from work / writing / gaming / whatever’s preoccupying him in that moment. he’s always awake at 5am and quite often sleeps in through classes but still gets really good grades because he’s very good at his course. rarely attends classes. prefers to work independently. doesn’t really trust his tutors are intelligent enough to be teaching him, and is particularly suspicious of the lockwood tutors. a music snob tbh

secretly a small-scale drug dealer, only does weed n some party pills. rollerskates around campus dealing cos they dnt have a car

likes: techno, the webpage cats on synthesizers in space, allen ginsberg, vintage gramophones,  floating points, lcd soundsystem, marijuana, soft dogs that let you pet them, late-night strolls talking about the universe, independent films, cigarettes, herbal tea, gallows humour, long showers, brown eyes, tchaikovsky, dr. seuss, constellations, photography, late night jazz, vintage game boys and girls who could rip his still-beating heart out of his chest and use it as an ashtray. dislikes:  weddings, funerals, formality, button-up shirts that people actually button-up, bananas, hot coffee, social media, people who watch and play sports, rap music – especially of the misogynistic variety, indie wankers in wire-framed glasses that play ed sheeran songs at open mic nights.

plot ! with ! me ! i’d say all the usual “exes fwb hookups spiel” but rory… is very tender and tame… i feel like a deer in the headlights of love……. so give me

study buddies,

people who are also into techno and are music snobs about it,

people who love all kinds of music,

people who are in bands that maybe rory’s recorded and produced stuff for,

people he actually jams with (he plays bass and synth),

unrequited crushes!!

someone they met at a knitting club in freshman year and have remained friends with despite no longer going to it

people rory knows from open mic nights and gigs

library girlfriends / boyfriends that he stares at longingly while paging through leatherbound volumes

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

people he deals weed to on his rollerskates (why r all my characters obsessed with rollerskates)

skaters. rory is really shit at skateboarding. like really shit. help the smol

hm now that rory has !Evolved! ig we can do hook up plots if u want but he’s not tht good at divorcing sex from emotion?? like he  hooked up w teddy once n felt hopelessly inlove so..... if u want soft plots b prepared for crippling sadness.......

stay groovy XD XD

[gotatext]

hello, it’s swamp witch nora again…. i couldn’t stay away.... hitting u with a tiny baby boy who is also terrible (sometimes).  musical softboi who loves karl marx and hates children dying in cobalt mines to make smart phones. as is tradition, here’s the pinterest board, have a peruse. fyi sorry for those of u who have read this intro a thousand times i literally.... can never b bothred to change it n i think thats really sexy of me x

CHARLIE PLUMMER / DEMI-BOY — don’t look now, but is that rory bergström  i see? the 23 year old music student is in their junior year and he is a rochester alum. i hear they can be whimsical, impassioned, self-indulgent and nitpicky, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet he / they will make a name for themselves living in griffin street. ( nora. 24. gmt. she/her. )

aesthetics.

bed hair from a permanent state of slumber, calloused fingertips from strumming bass into the early hours and djing into the blacklit night, self-help books thumbed once and thrown beneath your bed, battered copies of choose your own adventure books, spliffs passed half-arsed across rooftops while light pollution obscures low-hanging stars, marxist literature in stacks against your bedroom walls, a burner phone twice-shattered and a stash of replacement sim cards.

tw ocd, anxiety, drugs

half-swedish, half-british. the swedish is on his mother’s side. he’s bilingual but thinks in english. only really speaks swedish around his mother. only child, and kinda put a lot of pressure on himself to be the perfect kid when he was young, but his parents are honestly, quite decent? and just want him to have a nice life, they don’t care if he isn’t successful or rich or anything, they’re honestly rather solid. (wow imagine having nice parents, a first for all my characters, im literally this meme)

grew up in peckham, a suburb of london. growing up, his mum was a model / actress / waitress who later retrained as a speech therapist and his dad worked in her majesty’s service at buckingham palace. his dad wasn’t allowed to tell his family what his job entailed but rory suspects it’s probably very boring and just involves a lot of…. logistics n security.

was bullied a lot at school. [cole sprouse voice] he didn’t fit in and he didn’t want to fit in. unironically wore a trenchcoat to school every day of his life. spent most of his lunchtimes in the library because it was his safe space. as a result he knows…. loads of useless information because 30% of his school years were spent reading anthologies on space and the vikings etc. would be good on a game show. obsessively recorded every episode of university challenge as a child.

middle-class and lowkey quite wealthy but rarely talks about money, one of those well-off people who still wears really old shitty shoes and only spends money if they absolutely have to

virgin who can’t drive

into star wars, not into the big bang theory. feminist. can’t watch horror movies

favourite film is where the wild things are. also loves the florida project. thinks kids are the sweetest thing and can’t wait to be a dad to some

has been musical for as long as they can remember. first picked up guitar because he thought it would make this girl esther who he was in love with like him, but he just ended up falling in love with music instead.

formulated several different bands as a kid but ultimately had to give it up cos he was quite controlling and got fixated on making a certain sound so it wasn’t really fun for the others. got into electronic music because it was something he could do basically on his own and keep tweaking until he got it perfect

always drumming their fingers or strumming invisible guitar strings. tends to avoid parties bc he has quite has specific tastes when it comes to music and doesn’t like listening to r&b for eight hours while people throw up into plastic cups.

a techno connoisseur. has been making electronic music since he was about twelve.

after his parents divorce, when he was fourteen, rory & his mother moved to run-down suburban neighbourhood, pittsfield, massachussets.

big into photography. he mostly uses a canon 35mm camera, but occasionally uses disposable ones when he wants that more rustic feel.

moving to the states, their photography became more focused on suburban neighborhoods and are often quite dark and cinematic (think gregory crewsden). here are some shots of pittsfield i really like which rory has on his wall [1] [2] [3]

falls in love 12 times a day. never had a girlfriend or boyfriend. gets sweaty when someone cute looks at him. flirting?? what?? would prefer to idealise them from a distance

gender??? hm. rory don’t really know where they fit yet, sometimes he feels like a guy and sometimes they dont feel like anything at all!! slippin out of his physical form into the spirit realm! isn’t really bothered, cos they think it’s a social construct anyway. uses he/they pronouns interchangeably, but currently feels like ‘he’ is more fitting. won’t necessarily pull anyone up on it cos he knows having an identity that’s constantly…. in flux.. can be annoying for others … and doesn’t want to be a burden even tho it isn’t at all?? rory internalises guilt

everything is socially constructed. mirrors let you move through time. the whole thing’s a metaphor. he thinks he’s got free will but really he’s trapped in a maze. in a system. all he can do is consume. people think it’s a happy game. it’s not a happy game — it’s a fucking nightmare world, and the worst thing is, it’s real and we live in it!!!!

has ocd. tries to let it affect his life as little as possible, but obviously it’s incredibly hard to control a compulsive disorder. was teased for it at school when other kids started to notice. he was obsessed with the number five, would wash his hands five times, count stairs i groups of five, he could only use the corridors in one direction and always had to keep his hands busy. it manifests itself in hyper-fixations (trains when he was a child – specifically steam engines – then later he became obsessed with space and the patterns of constellations, and now he’s obsessed with synthesizers) and repetitive behaviours like counting stairs. doesn’t really affect his social life at all, he can jst get a bit locked-on n hyper-focused sometimes.

has insomnia. barely ever sleeps. finds it hard to switch off from work / writing / gaming / whatever’s preoccupying him in that moment. he’s always awake at 5am and quite often sleeps in through classes but still gets really good grades because he’s very good at his course. rarely attends classes. prefers to work independently. doesn’t really trust his tutors are intelligent enough to be teaching him, and is particularly suspicious of the lockwood tutors. a music snob tbh

occasionally deals weed n pills when strapped for cash, but only 2 ppl he knows, and on a very small scale grass-roots level!! (so its ok???) rollerskates around campus dealing cos they dnt have a car. we love to see it

aesthetics: bed hair from a permanent state of slumber, calloused fingertips from strumming bass into the early hours and drumming into blacklit night, self-help books thumbed once and thrown beneath your bed, watching vine compilations until your eyes turn square, battered copies of choose your own adventure books, spliffs passed half-arsed across rooftops while light pollution obscures low-hanging stars

likes: techno, the webpage cats on synthesizers in space, allen ginsberg, vintage gramophones,  floating points, lcd soundsystem, marijuana, soft dogs that let you pet them, late-night strolls talking about the universe, independent films, cigarettes, herbal tea, gallows humour, long showers, brown eyes, tchaikovsky, dr. seuss, constellations, photography, late night jazz, vintage game boys and girls who could rip his still-beating heart out of his chest and use it as an ashtray. dislikes:  weddings, funerals, formality, button-up shirts that people actually button-up, bananas, hot coffee, social media, people who watch and play sports, rap music – especially of the misogynistic variety, indie wankers in wire-framed glasses that play ed sheeran songs at open mic nights.

plot ! with ! me ! i’d say all the usual “exes fwb hookups spiel” but rory… has never hooked up with anyone… i feel like a deer in the headlights of love……. so give me

study buddies,

people who are also into techno and are music snobs about it,

people who love all kinds of music,

people who are in bands that maybe rory’s recorded and produced stuff for,

people he actually jams with (he plays bass and synth),

unrequited crushes!!

actually i think rory had sex w delilah in the last version of this rp so if u want a hook up plot its possible just unlikely. they’d hav 2 be the driving force i reckon cos rory doesn’t really act on impulses like desire or anythin.... jst bottles that shit up !!! but yea we could do a spicy hook up plot maybs, depending on the person

someone they met at a knitting club in freshman year and have remained friends with despite no longer going to it

people rory knows from open mic nights and gigs

library girlfriends / boyfriends that he stares at longingly while paging through leatherbound volumes

gamers !!! social recluses !!! hermits !!

people he deals weed to on his rollerskates (why r all my characters obsessed with rollerskates)

skaters. rory is really shit at skateboarding. like really shit. help the smol

[katehuntington]

Kate’s 300 followers challenge

300 followers; this calls for a celebration! And how better to celebrate this SPN blog that is about fanfiction and fanart, than to host a challenge!

The Theme:

The Unofficial Soundtrack of Supernatural

So many songs remind me of Supernatural and fit their amazing journey perfectly, but where never used on the show. That’s why I build a list of a 100 of my favorite songs that instantly make me think of the beautiful characters of this series.

The Challenge:

Pick a song from the list and take out either a line, a verse or use the entire song for your fanfiction or fanart. Write, paint, draw or edit the song into the story that you are telling.

The Rules:

Both written art and graphic art can participate, as long as it’s Supernatural related. Poems, fanfiction, drawings, graphics, video, you name it. The creator is completely free to choose. You are allowed to pick more than one song, too!

Send me a message with your choice of song. I will update the original post as soon as possible once people will send in their picks.

Mention the song at the top of the post or in the title. 

No Wincest. No Smut!Weechester. Not that I am against anyone writing it, but I would like to read and review every entry, and I don’t read this type of ships because they are not my thing. Other ships like Saileen, Destiel, Deanna, Megstiel, Reader x ... etc. are fine. 

You can create fluff, angst, smut, reader insert, OFC. Knock yourself out. Do remember to list trigger warnings at the top of your post.

For the writers: there is no minimum or maximum to words. When your story is over 500 words, remember to use the ‘Keep reading’ option.

When you use imagery (or even just gifs), remember to stick to the Tumblr guidelines. It would be a shame if anything got flagged.

I would like to be able to read and check out all the beautiful things you all are going to create, so use the tag #Kate’s 300 followers challenge. 

I will reblog all the artwork that stick to the rules above.

The Challenge ends on July 27th 2019. That gives you 3 months!

The List:

The list can be found on Spotify. Type ‘Kate’s 300 followers challenge’ in Spotify’s search engine to find it, or click the link. *CLICK*

You can also find the list if you scroll down and click ‘Keep reading.’

I cannot WAIT to see all you wonderful entries! This is gonna be so much fun. Bring it, people! Bring me all the wonderful art you girls and boys create.

Don’t hesitate to spread, tag and reblog this post! The more the merrier! 

@littlegreenplasticsoldier @idreamofhazel @winchest09 @kittenofdoomage @coffee-obsessed-writer @alwayskeepfightingkaz-2y5 @atc74 @kathaswings @mrswhozeewhatsis @emilyshurley @brokencasbutt67-writer @oneshoeshort @thinkwritexpress-official @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @luci-in-trenchcoats @spiritofoblivion @idreamofplaid @erins-culinary-service @canadianspnhunter @impala-dreamer @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @supermoonpanda @supernatural-jackles

Long As I Can See The Light - Creedence Clearwater Revival

With A Little Help From My Friends - Joe Cocker

American Pie - Don McLean

Paint It, Black - The Rolling Stones

Hurt - Johnny Cash

Dust In The Wind - Kansas

Death And All His Friends - Coldplay

Livin’ On The Edge - Aerosmith

Brothers In Arms - Dire Straits

Another 45 Miles - Golden Earring

Let It Be - The Beatles

Wish You Were Here - Pink Floyd - @coffee-obsessed-writer

Alive - Pearl Jam

Seven Devils - Florence + The Machine

Lightning Crashes - Live

Leave A Light On - Tom Walker

God’s Gonna Cut You Down - Johnny Cash

Turn The Page - Metallica

Against The Wind - Bob Seger

Stairway To Heaven - Led Zeppelin

Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley - @nickelkeep

Fix You - Coldplay - @thefaithfulwriter

Need The Sun To Break - James Bay

Way Down We Go - KALEO

Timshel - Mumford & Sons

Green Eyes - Coldplay - @thefaithfulwriter

Imagine - John Lennon

I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab for Cutie - @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Breathe Me - Sia - @castielslittlestbee

Big Black Car - Gregory Alan Isakov

Black - Pearl Jam

Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes @thefaithfulwriter

Sorry - Kensington

Landslide - Fleedwood Mac

Tears In Heaven - Eric Clapton

Everybody Hurts - R.E.M.

Something Wicked This Way Comes - Lucinda Williams

Like A Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan

Halo Of Flies - Alice Cooper

Ain’t No Sunshine - Bill Withers

Just Breathe - Pearl Jam

No Good - KALEO

Human - Rag’n Bone Man

Brother - NEEDTOBREATHE ft. Gavin DeGraw - @tumbler-tidbits

Black Dog - Led Zeppelin

Yesterday - The Beatles

Running To Stand Still - U2

Trouble - Ray LaMontagne

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

Welcome To The Jungle - Guns N’ Roses

Angel Dream (No. 2) - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers - @coffee-obsessed-writer

Ain’t No Grave - Johnny Cash

God Only Knows - The Beach Boys

Bridge Over Troubled Water - Simon & Garfunkel

Creep - Radiohead

Iris - Goo Goo Dolls - @whatareyousearchingfordean

Paradise By The Dashboard Light - Meat Loaf

Ramble On - Led Zeppelin

Elysium - Bear’s Den

Not About Angels - Birdy

Heal - Tom Odell

Brother - Matt Corby

Redemption Day - Johnny Cash

Seven Bridges Road - Ricochet

Bed Of Roses - Bon Jovi

Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin

Stand By Me - Jason Manns

The Wicked - Blues Saraceno

99 Problems - Hugo

Save My Soul - Blues Saraceno

Blaze Of Glory - Jon Bon Jovi

Righteous Smoke - Monster Truck

So Far From Your Weapon - The Dead Weather

Street Spirit (Fade Out) - Radiohead

The Sound Of Silence - Simon & Garfunkel

Welcome To The Black Parade - My Chemical Romance

Heartbreaker - Led Zeppelin

Heartache Tonight - The Eagles

Time Is Running Out - Muse @brokencasbutt67-writer

Storm - Lifehouse

Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own - U2

About Today - The National

Wish It Was True - The White Buffalo

Saturn - Sleeping At Last

Desperado - The Eagles

To Build A Home - The Cinematic Orchestra ft. Patrick Watson

Broken Halos - Chris Stapleton

Guiding Light - Foy Vance ft. Ed Sheeran

Hurricane - Thirty Seconds To Mars - @winchest09

Good Times Bad Times - Led Zeppelin

Inside My Head - Di-Rect

I Still Cry - Ilse DeLange

My Best Wasn’t Good Enough - Kane - @emilyshurley

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Green Day

Knokken’ On Heaven’s Door - Avril Lavigne

Simple Man - Jensen Ackles

What Makes A Good Man? - The Heavy

Bottom Of The River - Delta Rae

“Heroes”- David Bowie

A New Day Yesterday - Jethro Pull

[soupberries]

Burn The Stage The Movie: My Experience and Thoughts

I know this is an art blog but I really felt like sharing my thoughts!

This post will consist of:

The general cinematic experience

My thoughts on the movie itself! (I will put this bit under the “Keep reading” tab. I hate spoilers as much as the next guy!)

So - let’s begin!

(Disclaimer: Opinionated)

PART 1: THE GENERAL CINEMATIC EXPERIENCE

The local cinema where I live is located at the top floor of a shopping mall with only one other shop nearby it, which is a restaurant. Take this into consideration.

I arrived at the mall with my friends at around 8 o’ clock. The movie was at 9.15pm but I wanted to get there early because I knew there was a small giveaway for a mock ticket designed by BTSMalaysia on Twitter, and I was afraid if I was late I wouldn’t be able to get it. The cinema lobby was fairly empty except for a small group of people in the corner who were quite obviously ARMYs. One of them had an ARMY bomb and was walking around like he had a duty to do, which he did - it was to hand out the mock tickets. I knew he was the guy I was supposed to approach but I was suddenly frozen with fear and I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know what came over me. All these doubts flooded into my head, I was scared I was gonna make a fool of myself. Luckily my friend went to approach him for me and we got our mock tickets T_T

After that we went off to go get some food since we still had like an hour till the movie started. I met up with another friend of mine around 8.30pm and she told us that they were having a flash mob up at the cinema lobby and they were playing BTS songs. So we went to go check it out. Surely enough, there was a crowd of people surrounding only two people in the middle who were dancing to Dope (which was being played in the lobby). The cinema was the one playing the music, by the way. Not the crowd. So I guess it means they were encouraging it. Nobody seemed very disturbed by it, and I really hope nobody was. It was cute in a way? Seeing everyone so excited. If the cinema had played more recent and easier songs I think more people would’ve joined in, not just the two. The playlist consisted of Dope, DNA, Baepsae, Anpanman, I NEED U... those kinds of songs. I’ll admit I did kinda cringe though.

It was interesting to see the local ARMYs because sometimes I feel so isolated? But there’s actually a lot more than I would’ve thought. A lot of them seemed to be university and college students, and there were a few parents there too.

I’m so so very glad I got seats right at the back of the cinema. I had a friend who was sitting in the middle rows and she said she was disturbed by the people behind her who were talking during the emotional moments. I hope my friend and I didn’t disturb the people in front of us though... but all we did was make comments once in a while about how cute BTS were haha. 

While the ads were running some people were irritated by how many ads there were which is understandable but it was still annoying. Whenever one ad finished, there would be people going, “Please, please, pleeeease,” but when the next ad played they all groaned. Like just... don’t? When the BTS ads started playing a lot of people screamed which doesn’t make much sense to ME but people are excited, okay, I get it. When the movie finally started some people tried to start the fanchant but got shushed and not to be mean but it was kinda funny. This is a MOVIE, not a concert. We should treat it as such. Anyway it gave me some faith in local ARMYs. They were well behaved and I was impressed. Prior to the movie I was SO afraid of my experience being ruined by “no jams” and “Koreaboos”. But it wasn’t! Surprisingly I didn’t hear a single word of Korean from anyone there. Either that or I’m not observant, haha. I’m glad I didn’t hear it, nonetheless. Nobody had their ARMY bombs with them - or if they did, it wasn’t turned on in the cinema hall. There was no screaming (except for the first few shots of the members when the movie started - which I expected). Everyone reacted and laughed along and I think we all enjoyed the movie. I was happy. 

PART 2: THOUGHTS ON THE MOVIE

From here on I will be talking about the movie, which means major spoilers! Only click “Keep reading” if you’ve already watched the movie or want to be spoiled!

It was very, very different to the YouTube Red series. I thought I was gonna be basically the same thing, which is why I initially didn’t want to go. But after seeing the trailer and how much new content there was, I decided I would. 

Anyway. I like how this movie had a narrative? The whole “Desert, Together, Sea” thing. I just love how they incorporated their hidden track into their movie. I was surprised the movie didn’t touch so much on their struggles? Well it did, but from a different angle. It just wasn’t as explicit as the YouTube Red series (ie. the fainting, the fights, the insecurities). I feel like the movie highlighted more on their togetherness, their family-like bond. Not just with each other but with their staff and even Bang PD. And on BTS’ relationship with ARMY. 

The movie shows the side of them we will probably never ever get to see - them being themselves. When they were having their little retreat thing and messing about and having fun in the pool, I couldn’t help but think, “They look like ordinary boys. Having fun with each other, eating, drinking, chatting.” It must be hard to find that balance, you know? Between your idol life and your ordinary life. 

It was fun to see the shots of them just hanging, like Jinminkook eating together and joking together and being, well, themselves. 

They touched on the pressure they feel to deliver the best performance they can to their fans - which must be an awful lot of pressure, I can imagine. Jimin was so visibly upset at his mistake even after all his brothers were comforting him, telling him he was cool... it was, well, not sad. I don’t know the right emotion to explain it. It was just interesting, I guess? Because, like I said before, we will never get to see this side of them. All we see are the glittery outfits, dazzling smiles, on point performances, an occasional cosy V-live. It can be hard to remember that they, too, are humans. 

I wish I could understand Korean so I could’ve gotten Jin’s jokes! The part with him and their personal trainer (?) was so cute. It really does show the bond they have with their staff. And when they were all having dinner together, when Namjoon gave a toast, saying “We couldn’t have done it without (the staff),” (or something like that) and one of them replied, “Well said!” and everyone laughed. Even after they toasted I noticed Jimin chatting to one of the staffs at the table in a friendly way. These boys, they’re so humble. 

When they had the meeting with Bang PD - man, that totally put him in a new light. I always see people online calling him not-so-nice things and accusing him of mistreating members, which may or may not be true. But you can’t deny that he cares for BTS. (Or at least seems to, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.) They have said he’s like their father, and the movie showed that. He told them that it was important for them to be happy, and that he was scared that if they continued the way they were that they would be miserable. I just thought that was nice.

The way Yoongi was so excited about all the music equipment in the shop was so cute! They seemed so happy to have a day to themselves to just go out and shop. In fact, they seemed very happy about vacationing in general. When Jin announced that they got a week’s vacation after their Taipei concert he looked very excited. I hope they get more holidays. 

I feel like the thing that makes them so humble is the fact that they are AWARE of the fact that this isn’t going to last forever. I feel like that’s what keeps them going, too. How Yoongi said, “There will come a day when we can’t do this even if we wanted to.” Hits hard, man. 

I loved how they kept joking about them winning the BBMA and how they kept mentioning it? Not in a prideful way, like... I don’t know? It was just fun. How Hoseok said jokingly to the cameraman, “Hey, you’re working for a BBMA winner!” They were obviously very excited about winning it. 

WHEN YEONTAN POPPED UP OH MY GOSH it was so so cute! Everyone in the cinema uwued together haha.

Oooh and when Hoseok hit that high note in Stigma? Wowwww!

Another part which I learned something new was when Taehyung and Hoseok were in a car and Taehyung played 4 o' Clock for him... and he said he wrote it to the character he played in Hwarang - Hansung! That's so cute of him. But turns out it wasn't written to Jimin like we originally thought? Though that was just speculation by Namjoon, right? Anyhow. Taehyung is precious.

There was one line of the narration which stuck out to me, I don’t know why? It went something like, “When you present yourself with confidence, not conceit, you will captivate the hearts of thousands.” Which is very true! In the case of BTS, I feel like one of their major appeals is how humble they are. They present themselves in a way that is confident, but not arrogant.

The relationship BTS and ARMY have is a very interesting one. Codependent. BTS helped ARMY and ARMY helped BTS. We never fail to show our gratefulness for each other. They highlighted this in the movie too.

I didn’t get very emotional during the movie, though. I didn’t cry (I don’t know if I was supposed to - I felt like I was). Some things that made my heart hurt were the orchestra versions of Sea and Spring Day! Please release those tracks! I need them!

Also, a side note... who was the narrator? I have a feeling it wasn't a BTS member so it felt kinda weird. But I suppose BTS are quite busy and may not have had time to narrate a two-hour movie. I don't know.

All in all, it was a sweet movie. BTS’ teamwork is astounding and I truly believe it was fate that brought them together. 

As a business student, I feel like this movie was a very smart idea. It brings benefits for all - the cinema company, BigHit, BTS and ARMY. Cinemas get money, BH and BTS get money as well as gaining consumer (ARMY) trust and loyalty and potentially even more clients (fans) from ARMY who brought their non-ARMY friends. ARMY get new content and a whole new understanding of their faves. Win-win, yes? Don’t mind me. That’s just Business Lily speaking. 

But yeah, that’s all I can remember... It was enjoyable, but perhaps I would’ve enjoyed it more if I wasn’t sick with a flu haha.

That’s all I have for now! Thank you for reading

[kurainohikaru]

I made a few friends Cussing out Cinder/ Rwby Volume 6 Episode 1: Argus Limited

So at the premiere tonight they began it with showing a recap of the last 2 episodes of Volume 5, the first scene being a closeup of Cinder’s face. Now I’m not normally that rude guy at a theater but as soon as she showed up on screen I just shouted: “Get off the screen, you stupid bitch!”  Now this is in no disrespect to Jessica Nigri or CRWBY (maybe a bit of salt to M&K for waiting this long to give the backstory of her if we are ever even gonna get it but I digress.) I covered my mouth in shame but to my surprise, most everyone laughed (the theatre wasn’t even close to full so it wasn’t that many people)., so I continued to add my colorful commentary throughout, shouting, “BYE FELICIA!” in the silent moment where she is falling to her “death” frozen and there’s no audio, got a good few laughs outta that. 

Beware Spoilers below!

So after the Adam Trailer and Director’s commentary we finally got into the meat and potatoes, Rwby Volume 6 episode 1: Argus Limited.

 I wasn’t one of the people who avoided spoilers and so I was aware of the scenes shown at NYCC and I gotta say... I have NO IDEA why the kiss ignited the ship wars like it did. You couldn’t even see the kiss! It was from a zoomed out shot and Blake’s body blocked the cheek she kissed. Granted I love both ships (though still holding out for dem Seamonkeys, I know it won’t happen let a boy dream!), so I loved it anyway. Also, the entire theatre SCREAMED when Neptune showed up, if only for a brief moment.

What I CAN say about the Blake and Sun moment is that in that one conversation we had more development for Sun since his iteration into the series! Not only did he lament for how long he’s left his team and recognized how he’s kinda been a shitty leader lately, but he also realized that he would always be there for Blake, but she doesn’t need him right now and she’s where she needs to be. And that was both incredibly mature and wise of him to say. #ProudofmySun I have no doubt they and CFVY will be returning in the Vacuo Arc, if not sooner.

There was also a great conversation prior to this between Blake an Ilia, and a heartfelt teary hug from Ilia wishing Blake didn’t have to go. Honestly, that made me more shook up than Sun’s departure, I felt bad for her. Hopefully, we haven’t seen the last of her though.

I really enjoyed the overall episode’s blending of the serious and comedic. I think they’ve finally achieved that perfect balance they were looking for and I hope it persists, instead of bleeding into morosely overserious or completely out of place comedic.

There was an awkward bees moment where Blake tries to help Yang reach for her bag only for Yang to say she doesn’t have to do that, citing that it will be a bit awkward at first but she is genuinely glad to have her teammate back. I hope this isn’t the end of their drama because there definitely NEEDS to be a long tearful discussion about the repercussions of the fallout of Volume 3.

There is a brief bout atop the train with new Grimm(which I will get back to) before RWBY and JNR decide they need to separate to protect the people from attacking Grimm. Why you ask? Well because Ozpin decides to casually let everyone know, and I point out that even Qrow was surprised, that the Relic attracts Grimm. 

It seems the poster will indeed reflect the emotions of the girl’s this volume as this raises Ire with both Yang and Weiss, Yang asking why would he keep this from them? Before he can respond though, Ruby cuts her off and says it doesn’t matter, to which Yang and Weiss have the biggest “Are you fucking kidding me?” looks. I’ll be honest I didn’t see Blake’s reaction just because of how strong Yang and Weiss’s were, which makes sense given their disillusionment from Raven. Also, Ruby’s scythe surrounding Oscar/Oz on the poster symbolizing her protecting him seems like it will be something that plays out.

Jaune and Ruby share a moment, Jaune making Ruby promise she’ll meet them in Argus before going through with their plan of Jaune amplifying Ren’s aura to mask the entire front of the train while RWBY, Qrow, and Oz/Oscar stay in the back trains. 

Jaune’s semblance mastery is kinda insane already that and he has a shit ton of Aura since Ren was able to do that no problem and Jaune also healed an insignificant character’s severely bruised arm that got pinched between the tunnel and the wall after the tunnel ceased the first bout. Not to mention, we have even more proof of his large Aura capacity as that was at least a good few dozens of people in the train cars. This is going to prove to make some interesting combos later given we saw how fast Weiss could summon in Volume 5 after being affected by it #JauneistooOPPlzNerf

So as to the question I bet you’re all wondering...

How’s the action?

Now I don’t claim to be any animation guru and can’t point out finer details here but the action seemed more well-paced and much cleaner than anything in Volume 5. 

Some Highlights are as follows:

Ruby actually fighting decently and not just a bunch of motion blur scythe swinging.

Ruby saving Weiss with her semblance atop the train when the tunnel forces them to retreat.

Weiss Ice skating/leaping off her glyphs atop the train. Personally, I thought this was one of the best flair decisions combat wise.

Fun Yang and Blake 1v1 moments.

Amazing cinematic 1v1 of Qrow vs what I assume was the Sphinx Grimm all the others were much smaller and what I assume are Baby Manticore Grimm as concept art one was HUGE.

Amazing team RWBY moment (without ship names sadly) where they need to restrict the Sphinx’s movement to help Qrow. Yang puts herself on the opposite side of the team where Qrow is and draws it’s attention while Blake throws her ribbon of Gambol Shroud over the top of the Grimm’s torso. As it falls downward, Yang shotgun blasts Gambol shroud several times, the ribbon rewrapping around the Grimm several times before she jams it into the ground, holding it as Blake pulls on her end, effectively restricting it. Weiss then comes up and glyphs each of the wings of the Grimm freezing and then subsequently shattering them.

The moment culminates with a split screen showing both Ruby’s and Qrow’s faces, before each of them sniper/shotgun momentum themselves forward, each in scythe form. Qrow and then Ruby is shown to spin in a 360 spiral similar to what we’ve seen Ruby do before, executing the Grimm as it releases a final fireball. I thought this was beautiful to look at and a Nice touch illustrating Ruby was clearly trained by Qrow as mentioned in the very first episode of the show.

The fight ends as the train gets derailed (I can’t remember why but the fireball either blocked or derailed the track somehow I was too busy processing the above badass moment). Weiss quickly thinks to soften the blow gravity glyphing everyone atop the train as they crash.

Everyone is fine post-crash but I DID notice that the relic previously attached to Oscar’s hip is now missing. Which I will assume will lead into the next episode where we see Ruby find it in the shot from the trailer, as another point in the trailer shows it on her hip. 

The Episode ends with the strange old woman (Who I keep calling Katara thanks to a tumblr post on here lol) saying that was close. My money is more on her being a silver-eyed warrior than a maiden but only time will tell!

All in all, I loved this first episode, it felt very refreshing and fun to watch and I hope this momentum continues through the rest of the volume!

The night ended with the few people tracking me down after the movie, saying I was hilarious and inviting me out for some food, drinks, and theory-filled good company! Can’t wait to see what comes next!

[dollfaecez]

Season 11, ep 4

Hello all, a very overdue episode recording but whatever I'm here and I'm happy. I recently rediscovered my purpose in life, had another peak experience with my choir class and I think I've got my lif purpose locked in. The trip to state was genuinely unreal, I mean it was like the whole Summer 2019 experience all over again. My group, my experiences, everything that happened was simply lovely. I'll try my best to describe the events in cinematic detail for my audience of none:

Friday, April 29th. I woke up, grabbed my bags, and immediately left out the door in a vibration of excitement. I didn't even pack any school clothes, my mindset was SET on state! As soon as I got to school I dropped my stuff off and started the day. Around 11:30, I headed over to the choir room with friends and revisited out groups. The people I was riding with were June, Jayden, and Cierra, Farzona unfortunately having to ride with Kathryn. We did our makeup while waiting for Sanchez to get ready, I of course took many before pictures of the experience simply because I looked good. Finally, the chaperones arrived and we set off in our vehicles. The car ride to Cle Ellum was pretty fun, we all took turns cycling through music and talking about whatever came to mind. I won over June's mom by playing Wu-Tang Clan and subjecting everyone else in the car to my father's music taste (whom I did send a video of us jamming out to). The scenery was absolutely beautiful as we drove through the mountains, stagnant snow felted into the ground around the roads and the many bodies of water reflected the blue skies above. There was a small, round area of land surrounded by a lake of water; Cierra had explained that when she was little, she had imagined a bear lived in the centre and that he would leave for the Summer once the water level fell. I thought that was very cute. As we came closer to Cle Ellum we ended up feeling the effects of Long Car Ride Syndrome and began to act on impulse. We ended up creating Fried Gucci Doll, seen in the images.

Arriving at in Inn, me and June decided to bunk together as roommates. The room was pretty decent, two queen sized beds sat in the main room while there was a kitchen-sink area off the side next to the bathroom door that housed a shower. There was coffee along with a coffee maker neatly placed on a tray by the mirror, mostly decaf however they DID have some fancy east Asian kind (that I would definitely take advantage of later). We set down all of our stuff as the others settled into their rooms, quickly changing due to time and sat outside the door with Sanchez. Soon enough, we all were ready and began to drive off to the University. I was VERY excited for the performance, me and my group eagerly awaiting our arrival. Once we arrived, we had sat outside for awhile until Sanchez had gotten us situated. Inside the University was absolutely BEAUTIFUL! The spaces were so large and the acoustics were PERFECT for warming up, so that was exactly what we did. Since the practice rooms were taken, we warmed up in the separating room from inside the University to out in the gardens. After warming up, we walked up the stairs to the performance rooms and waited until our cue. Our time was up, and we walked to the hallways behind the rooms we were performing in to get in our orders. Sanchez asked us to think about a really funny inside joke to raise the mood and get us moving on the floor, so naturally me, June, and Jayden thought of Fried Gucci Doll. We gave it our all and performed the best we could up there (which wasn't amazing, but we did well!) and I finally fulfilled my dream of being one of the choirs at state! I was absolutely euphoric up in front of everyone, and I ended up meeting someone on snap after the performance. Apparently Sanchez used to teach them as well, but as they caught up me and June both felt a burning jealousy over the way he was talking to his ex students. (He's our teacher now!) After our awkward stare-down with the other students, the group took pictures outside in front of the Wildcat statue and decided on Mexican for dinner.

We all found a table at the restaurant, June and I sat across from Sanchez and ended up chatting about different aspects in our lives. I felt incredibly bad for Sanchez, him being vegan at a MEXICAN restaurant wasn't really the best combination but he assured me that he'd buy a salad later so that soothed my worry. He ended up complimenting my table manners, which I got very excited about, and began to tell us how his parrot started hating him because he thinks that Sanchez's partner is HIS. I thought that was absolutely hilarious and we all had a good time. I absolutely devoured my Spinach Enchilada, leaving a little room for the dessert I would end up having later. I thoroughly enjoyed talking with Sanchez, him being my FP and wanting to get as close to him as possible without crossing any boundaries. We all finished up and paid for ourselves separately, leaving the restaurant with our chaperones.

After we all settled back into our rooms, Farzona ended up coming over because Kathryn and her mother went out. I enjoyed her company quite a bit- even if she gets on my nerves in practice, she's a very nice person to talk to. A little after Farzona came over, Cierra decided to pop in and we all talked about how we thought we did and what tactics we should use to be better as a group. We talked a lot about the unfairness between the juniors and seniors, vowing to never be as rude and overbearing to them as the seniors now are to us. I was happy we all agreed, and I really am excited for next year's ensemble. Just then, I had remembered the fact that both me and June's mom had told June that they needed to ask Eef out to prom! I eagerly reminded them, and they finally agreed to shoot their shot. June grabbed their phone and shakily typed out a message to Ethan, too nervous to even press send so I had to take the phone myself. I pressed send and as we all anxiously awaited his response, we changed the topic to Ms. Clarke and how much she impacted us as a group. Mid conversation, June's phone buzzed and I picked it up. The VERY FIRST words I read was "yes YES YES!" and my entire face lit up, signifying to the rest of the group that the answer was surely positive. June freaked out and had a stim attack, happily thanking me and telling the group that he's apparently been waiting to ask them since forever! Realizing prom was the next day, June hopped in the shower to shave and get ready and the rest of us celebrated this complete W. Cierra ended up having to change the bandaid on her hand, and we were frantically trying to come up with a plan to get one. Cierra suggested we go bother Sanchez, but I was too worried of annoying him so we ditched that idea and managed to embark on our journey to:

THE FRONT DESK!!!!

Grabbing our shoes, we skittered out the door into what looked like a setup to a horror movie. Bright red lights illuminated our path to the main building, the night sky swallowing any unlit corner. We joked about getting murdered by Jason Voorhees as we entered the building, greeting the man working front desk. Cierra acquired bandaids, so we got the HELL out of there and made it back to our Motel room while June continued showering. After I told Farzona about our journey, Cierra left to her own room so it was just us two sitting on the beds talking about whatever while watching The Golden Girls on TV. June cracks the bathroom door a little because apparently the steam was so thick that they could barely see anything. A little time passes and all of a sudden THE FIRE ALARM GOES OFF due to the stream from the shower! Me and Farzona jump into the air while I hear an "Oh no..." from the bathroom, only to find out that JUNE CUT THEIR LEG ON ACCIDENT AND THAT THEY WERE BLEEDING SO MUCH(despite how small the cut was). The fire alarm ceases and June slowly appears from the bathroom with blood absolutely everywhere. We all start laughing and I end up popping over to Cierra's for another bandaid, coming back to June attempting to clean the blood from the floor. The room looked like a MURDER scene when I entered, blood on the floor, blood on the towels, and obviously blood on June.

After we cleaned the mess, Farzona left to her own room and June settled into bed while we chatted for a bit. Then I remembered I had Tarot cards! We decided to do a reading on June's life, which was pretty positive. It basically insinuated that hard times come no matter what, but continuing on will bring forth rewards. I was very happy for June and decided to do a reading for myself out of curiousity, only to get THE TOWER for my last card! I knew it had to be about Jacob, so I sucked it in and pushed on. We did another reading for Vivace as a group and it essentially summed up my thoughts about us in general, saying that we needed to be closer as a group and that the need for control is damaging our ensemble. After the readings, we headed to sleep at around 11pm and I dreamed of some strange occurrence I can't remember.

In the morning, me and June woke up to The Smith's and began getting ready for the day. We still had Jayden's performance to watch and I was very eager to see it. The performance started at 2:30PM, so we all decided to kill time by exploring around Cle Ellum and seeing what we could do. Our first stop was obviously Starbucks, ordering all the drinks that would keep us awake for the rest of the day. I ordered a Chai Tea in a sad attempt to be more healthy, however all it did was make me wish I had a Pink Drink. We drove around until we discovered a pretty decent-sized Dollar Tree and decided to go in. There were a lot of strange selections, beach decor even though Cle Ellum was nowhere near a beach, Barbie heads, and a cheaply made plastic toys. It was then June had the wonderful idea to make Sanchez a gift bag- but not just any gift bag, no... We created:

THE QUEERLY MADE GIFT BAG!

Me, Cierra, Jayden, and June all scuttled around the dollar store looking for the most out of pocket items to put in the bag, even getting him a 1st Birthday card for all of us to write in. Real panic set in once the other group entered with Sanchez, and we all went on lookout to make sure he didn't see any of his lovely gifts. June RAN to the toy section and frantically grabbed the first item they saw, which happened to be a skeleton-pirate mask, and shoved it in their jacket. I decided to do my own shopping while I was on lookout and picked up a plastic T-Rex, a plastic flower lei, white daisy sunglasses, and a plastic coconut cup (with an Arizona peach tea of course). We all paid for our items and set off in our vehicles, where I so lovingly threw on my newly acquired fit for the occasion. My daisy glasses, lei, and coconut cup was sure to buy myself some more attention from strangers- and let me tell you, I ROCKED that shit! There was a thrift shop we spotted while driving to the University the day before, so we all decided to head over and see what was in stock. Throughout the ride, I was being absolutely feral with my newfound fit, stating that everything I drank that day would be from that lovely little cup. I poured Arizona into the coconut cup and took many pictures and videos of the entire ordeal. We finally arrived at the thrift shop, on the hunt for more gifts to put in the bag. It was a cute, two-story, brick building with wedding dresses in the window. The interior was very quaint; vintage wooden walls and a glass staircase leading up to the second floor. There were clothes, old electronics, wall decor, and pretty much anything you could imagine from a grandmother's house. I took interest in the skirt section, finding a cute, green corduroy skirt to match with a cute white top. Upstairs, I found a small triceratops plush that looked like it came if of a happy meal. I instantly fell in love with the little guy and decided his boyfriend would be my plastic T-Rex that I had bought earlier that day. The others found a figurine of a dachshund with cowboy boots and a hat, along with a pink-feathered heart decoration. We checked out and left the store happily with our gift bag and signed card, ready to head towards the University.

We still had a little bit more to wait by the time we arrived at Washington Central University, the performance being at 2:30PM, so we decided to walk around and find someplace to eat. We made our way down to the building we had been at the previous day, finding a beautiful Zen Garden near the entrance. We explored for a bit, admiring the plants and nature of it all. We took a group picture on a bench, the picture that now sits as my wallpaper, and headed back to the building for food. The cafeteria was incredibly large, tables and chairs at every corner and people packed within. I ordered a small veggie box in an attempt to be healthy, and thoroughly enjoyed June's chicken while Sanchez talked to us about college. After ordering, all of us decided to eat outside in the nice weather. We sat down at a red table and discussed the previous night with the adults and cracked a few jokes while waiting for time to pass, Sanchez definitely horrified and probably regretting bringing us along. We walked back to the performance building and sat for a few more minutes while Sanchez set everything up and decided we'd give him his gift when he came back. June got his gift ready, patiently awaiting his return, all of us anticipating his reaction to our so VERY thought-out gift.

Sanchez came back to a blue gift bag sitting on the chair before him. He looked very surprised and sat beside me while he opened his gifts one-by-one, laughing at each outrageous item we managed to find. By far, his favorites had to be the Jesus candle and the dachshund- the Jesus candle breaking him while he attempted to open the next. We took videos, pictures, and soon enough it was time for Jayden to shine. The room must have been an unused classroom, desks mounted on steps that made me feel fancy and honoured to be there. Jayden stood upon us all and performed AMAZINGLY, her voice echoing throughout the room with beautiful acoustics. I was in awe with her chords, tearing up and shouting the loudest as we clapped in the end. We all congratulated her as we left the building, bidding goodbye to the others (including Sanchez!) and getting back in our vehicles. The car ride home was wonderful, stopping by a rest stop where I acquired Slammy The Cow, so lovingly named after my favorite choir teacher. June bought him for me alone with a turle for Cierra and a hamster for themself. After going to the bathroom, we resumed our trip home and all connected over growing up poor, really strengthening our bonds together as a group.

I finally arrived home, exhausted out of my mind, and fell asleep on my soft, warm, bed.

[shepherdsvoice]

Peace

When I stepped out into the pale lavender light of the New York City evening from the darkness of the movie theater, I had only one thing on my mind: peace.

The air was warm and it had just the right amount of humidity so that you felt it but didn’t feel like you were swimming through it. And the city was so quiet. No loud phone calls, no pounding music, no sirens, no barking dogs. Just the city-silence of the low rumble of cars driving by and people walking home alone, their footsteps silent on the pavement. I walked a few blocks just noticing it. Feeling the quietness press against my ears. Looking up at the buildings that subdivided the sky: the unapologetically American exuberance of the Dorilton, the disapproving French poise of the Ansonia, the squat and somber rustication of the Central Savings Bank.

And it was summer.

Summer. There are some words that are bigger than themselves. That hold memories and magic within their syllables. That you try to use sparingly so as not to exhaust their mysterious, unidentifiable power. Summer is one of those words. A sentence with the word summer in it is just better. It aches in that sweet, painful way of nostalgia and past happiness.

That evening, summer beamed from the vibrancy of the green-leafed trees. It panted in the dogs circling the fire hydrants. It haloed the old-timey streetlights that lined the park. Summer gasped in the pearlescent wink of lightening bugs in the dark gardens.

When I crossed 70th Street, I saw the last washes of color from the fading sunset over the Hudson and decided to take Riverside Ave home. The silhouettes of the New Jersey apartments were stark, dark rectangles against the little afterglow at the horizon and their lights reflected in the slow water of the river. I was reminded of the lights reflected in Arno on those beautiful, joyous evenings in Florence. Walking home across Ponte alle Grazie at 10pm or midnight or 2am with my belly full of al dente pasta and melting gelato, my ears still ringing with laughter, a smile lingering around the corners my lips, my eyes stinging at the beauty of the city I – and so many others – have loved so much.

As I walked along the cobbled path of Riverside Park, I thought of all the cities I’ve walked at night, all the lights reflected in all the rivers and bays. The red lights flashing in puddles on a rainy Paris night as I headed back to Montmartre. The silence of Tokyo. The heat and buzz of insect and swaying of palms along a highway in Nairobi. The lapping of waves and echoes of clinking glasses on the beach in Tel Aviv. The neon glow of Hong Kong across the bay, the old fashioned boat anchored and rocking in the water.

What is it about walking through a city at night alone? It feels so different from walking during the day. Maybe it’s the hush, the low hum of thousands of in-window AC units. Maybe it’s the rush, the cinematic herd of yellow taxis approaching the intersection where the sign counts down to a crosswalk where no one is x-ing. What is it that makes you want to take the long long way home and delay the moment when you open your apartment door and return to your normal life?

I think it’s peace.

I had just watched a documentary about Anthony Bourdain. Roadrunner. It covered his addictive personality, his bad boy persona, and his travels around the world. From al fresco lunches in Provence with goat cheese, fig jam, and a 2010 sauvignon blanc to freshly brewed coffee at a floating market in Vietnam to bombs falling on Beirut. And his friends in the documentary talked about how he was always searching for something. Always trying to fill a hole. And he himself said that he had never really felt still and at peace. Or if he had, only for a few fleeting seconds.

I feel a lot of peace. I feel it on lazy afternoons, reading in the fading light in my living room. I feel it sitting in Central Park, watching dogs wrestle and shooing ants off my bag. I feel it during my whispered, nightly prayer. I feel it when cutting fresh flowers for the vase on the kitchen counter. I feel it standing before a Whistler or Sargent in a New York City museum. I feel it driving down an empty street at night in winter with the heat turned all the way up. I feel it sitting on the steps at Mom’s house with the sun darkening my back. I feel it inevitably when looking at the ocean. I feel it especially on a long train or bus ride, the Dutch countryside or Taiwanese mountains or African plains streaming past the window. A Peterson podcast, or Crosby Stills and Nash, or most often a Bible lecture playing through my headphones. My eyes full of the beauty of this world, my body rich with youth. The simple pleasure of time. Time to look and appreciate, to see fully.

All my most peaceful memories are alone. Maybe that’s a prerequisite for peace? I’m not sure. Sometimes I worry that I’m too at peace. Too at peace with my life, too at peace with myself. Too at peace on my own. Not striving, not trying to work harder or be better. Not actively seeking and filling my life with others. I know that peace can be too safe. Can be cowardice. Though peace is not necessarily the same thing as comfort. I find peace often when I’m in a new place. It is one of the things I love about traveling; it forces you to see and feel and consider the little moments. You are broken out of your habits, your expectations, your norms. You’re more connected and tuned in. Autopilot is turned off and you’re forced to pay attention and grip the controls and bank hard to keep yourself in the air.

I think peace is taking a moment to see and feel and be and most of all be grateful. To switch off your mind and let your heart swell up with that happiness that’s so big it almost feels like sadness. As I get older, I see more and more people who live without peace. Who live instead with hunger and yearning and frenzy. And it’s no way to live. It’s a way to push through life, to not feel time. To not feel anything good because you are running so hard from the bad. The bad needs to be felt too. And to be felt with gratitude and thanks. There’s a peace in acknowledging and feeling the ache of grief or loneliness. There’s a peace that’s hard-won after the submission and release of anger. There’s a sweet peace in faith. In letting go of what you cannot change. In finding the things you can. In the push and pull of doubt and wonder.

I’ve found that there’s peace in life if you seek it humbly.  

[gemfyre]

I had just turned 14 when I got my first taste of Soundgarden.  It was Black Hole Sun, which was getting a smidge of radio airplay and appearing on Rage (Australia’s answer to MTV) when they’d do their charts.  I didn’t like it at first, the film clip freaked me out.

Some time in late 1994, about 6 months after Kurt Cobain shot himself a friend at school started really getting into Nirvana and mourning Kurt and dragged me with her.  Unlike her however I took a swim into the deep end of the grunge pool, I already had a copy of Ten by Pearl Jam and was finally starting to listen to it.  Then I got the movie Singles out from the video hire and bought the soundtrack not long after.  That had to be when I got into Soundgarden.  The image of Chris, open shirted (or shirtless) with that gorgeous long, curly hair, screaming into the mic, I was gone.  I had a job by then and oodles of disposable income, so I’d easily buy 3 CDs a weekend.  Very quickly I had Superunknown, closely followed by Badmotorfinger and the others.  The Day I Tried To Live immediately became my “theme song”.  I had the most awesome Superunknown T-shirt which had the lyrics written on the back in a spiral and it GLOWED IN THE DARK!

In 1996 I came back from a family holiday and turned the radio on to the announcement that Soundgarden had released a new single and the album would be out soon.  They played Pretty Noose and I went down to my local music store and pre-ordered the album.

In 1997 Soundgarden headlined the Big Day Out and there was no WAY I was not going.  I was supposed to meet up with a friend there but never found her (turns out she was in the licensed area all day, I was 17 so I wasn’t able to enter that section).  No matter, I had an awesome day anyway.  I don’t remember an awful lot of the actual gig, I can’t specifically remember any of the songs they played, I DO remember screaming “I LOVE YOU CHRIS!!” until I was hoarse.

Then hardly 2 months later, Soundgarden broke up.  I can’t say I was shattered, but I was sad.  I sighed and figured “back to the melting pot”, because honestly, Seattle bands never really die, they just morph into other things.

I wasn’t wrong.  Chris started doing solo stuff and a friend sent me an MP3 of Sunshower, it was beautiful.  I acquired a couple of other songs off Euphoria Mourning, but never listened to them all that much.  It just wasn’t SOUNDGARDEN.

(Sometime in 2002 I heard the news that Layne Staley had died.  I just shrugged and went “Wow, he hung on far longer than I expected”.  As far back as 1996 I realised Layne was doomed - it would seem he knew it too.)

In 2005 I bought Out Of Exile by Audioslave, but as usual, I just couldn’t get into it.  It wasn’t Soundgarden, which was the band I’d loved so much.

Then I heard they reformed!  They were touring again!  “Oh, but they’re now all old and won’t rock anymore.” I thought.  Then I looked up a performance on YouTube and went “HOLY SHIT!”  Yes, they still rocked, and Chris had grown that gorgeous hair back.  But by then I was into other things and listening to other music and never really got fully back into things.

One of the things I really WAS getting into was the Marvel Cinematic Universe and whaddyaknow?  Soundgarden did the end credits song for Avengers!  Live To Rise immediately went on high rotation in my car.  But it was just one song.

So I just tootled through my life, as you do, getting into comic book things and fanfic and nerdery and then swing dancing and everything 1940s, falling in love with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.

Then May 18 2017 rolled around and I saw the news on Facebook.  What?  No, that can’t be right.  Chris was fine, healthy, he never did drugs like the others!  He was rocking on into his fifties and was going to for many more years.  Suicide!???  WHAT!!??  This has to be a joke.  Of course it was no joke and my years parting ways with the grunge scene I’d been so thoroughly in to in the mid-90s meant I had no idea that Chris did have problems with drugs, just not heroin.  Chris was suffering from depression and had done so pretty much all his life.  Things caught up with him, and I lost another hero.

But I was into other things now, so I went on with my life.  Until about 2 months ago, when for some reason I can’t explain my brain decided I had to go back to my teen music and catch up on everything I missed.  So now, a year later, the loss really hit me.  A few weeks ago I sat in the dark on a bench in front of my house and listened to the extra disc on the Singles deluxe edition.  I fell in love with that early demo of Flutter Girl, and as I listened to Ferry Boat #3, there was a moment where the song is mixed in such a way that - through headphones - it sounded like Chris was singing softly right by my side.  And I cried.  I’ll miss you and your sometimes beautiful, always awesome music and your amazing lyrics.  Have a drink and a jam session with Andy and Layne and all the others up there in grunge-heaven.

[bevioletskies]

20 questions [8/20]

characters: peter/gamora, guardians-centric

fandom: avengers academy/marvel cinematic universe

summary: wasp has a new competition in store for the students of avengers academy, and there’s money involved. so obviously, peter and gamora have to pretend to be a couple in order to win. wait, what?

chapter preview: peter and gamora argue and make up (aka the usual), gamora has a bit of an epiphany, and someone goes missing.

word count: 4804 | total word count: 118k

a/n: the ending of this one makes me happysad every time i read it over, tbh

ao3 | previously | next | masterpost

Janet van Dyne, as the hundreds of students, SHIELD agents, and faculty had learned (sometimes the hard way), was not a girl to be messed with. She wasn’t the strongest, the fastest, or the most skilled of students on campus, but God help you should you get in her way, or even worse, mess with any of her friends.

It had started off as a perfectly normal Sunday morning, of course. She woke up feeling peppy as always, and made her way into the dorm cafeteria/lounge, where Clint and Kate were hovering over the coffee machine, looking desperate, but otherwise dead to the world. She pulled out her green juice from the communal fridge, cracked open the lid with a satisfying pop, and then took a swig, right as she opened Twitter. She then promptly spat it out at the first trending topic she saw, nearly spraying Cosmo and Lucky in the process, who were just innocently sitting on the floor at the Hawkeyes’ feet.

“KAMALA!” she hollered, causing the Hawkeyes to jump. “WE HAVE A SOCIAL MEDIA EMERGENCY!”

Ms. Marvel came dashing in, sliding across the linoleum on her socks, precariously tipping over in the process and nearly braining herself on the doorframe. “What is it, Jan?”

“Why am I seeing this weird, tell-all Twitlonger from some SHIELD agent being DMed to me by hundreds of people?” She stuck her phone in Kamala’s face. “Who is this guy, and why is he saying mean things about Peter?”

“Let me see, girls,” Peggy Carter said, strolling briskly into the kitchen with the no-nonsense attitude that every girl in the Academy revered. She took the phone from Janet and scrolled through the article, frowning. “I can’t say he stands out to me, I wouldn’t remember his face even if I’d met him. He’s rather generically good-looking, wouldn’t you say?”

“He said something about Peter punching him in the face for looking at Gamora,” Janet said. “That doesn’t sound like something he’d do.”

“What’s this about Quill and Gamora?” Natasha sauntered over from the fruit salad station, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. After Peggy showed her the post, her mouth twisted unpleasantly, considering. She wouldn’t put it past Quill and the other Guardians to attempt a long-con to make money, even if it meant a little bad publicity to get into the news. She reasoned that Gamora was the one with a strong moral compass, someone who understood the need to save lives the most after taking so many, and she wouldn’t have taken Natasha’s money regardless. Still, it didn’t clear the suspicions she’d had from the beginning. Maybe this wasn’t the most important secret she had to sniff out on the entirety of the Academy campus (the timefog was definitely a more pressing matter), but it was something Natasha knew she had to look into further.

______

Waking up next to Gamora a second time was decidedly less pleasant than the first, as Peter had been unceremoniously kicked in the gut. With a rather comical shout, he went tumbling out the bed and landed elbow-first on the floor.

Her head popped up over the side of the bed a moment later. “You okay, Quill?” she said, concerned.

“Never better,” Peter groaned, stumbling to his feet. “What happened?”

Her eyes flickered away from him a moment, guilty. “Nightmare,” she murmured. “It won’t happen again.”

He decided not to push it - it was definitely not a topic to be discussed in their game or any context, really, unless she was ready - instead electing to mumble about needing to pee and walking to the bathroom to give her space. When he got back, she was already dressed, her hair braided, face composed once again. She was on her phone, presumably checking her messages and making sure the Guardians hadn’t killed anyone - or each other - in their absence.

“Mantis says there are lots of photos and videos of us online,” Gamora said, turning to face the wall as Peter began stripping down. “They’re referring to us as the ‘hottest new superhero couple’.”

“Alright, I like it,” Peter said as he buttoned up his shirt. “We could definitely be the most attractive superhero couple ever.”

“Always so modest,” she commented dryly, turning back around as he finished adjusting his belt buckle. As she moved to get up, her phone went off with a text notification. “Wait, Janet says there’s a weird Twitter post about us.”

He sat down to do up his shoelaces, distracted by the need to finish dressing. “Yeah, yeah, read it.”

“It says, ‘Star-Lord is a possessive psychopath. He and his girlfriend came to my workplace for some Guardians business, and when I checked them in, I apparently took too long looking over her ID and he lost it. He grabbed me, pulled me out from behind my desk, and punched me in the face repeatedly. It took two security guards to pull him off me, and he kept yelling at me about trying to steal his girlfriend.’” Gamora blinked. “What the hell,” she said flatly.

“It’s that damn Number Five,” Peter said, fists clenched. “My nickname for him,” he added at Gamora’s confused expression. “He’s probably mad he got called out for being a creep, even though I was super non-confrontational about it.”

“And now he’s making people think you’re an over-possessive, violent boyfriend, how is that okay?” she exclaimed. “An untrue slight against you, you’re just going to let that go?”

“If it becomes a problem, we’ll deal with it,” he shrugged, and there was that nonchalant quality of Peter’s that frustrated Gamora so often. It wasn’t just in situations like this, it was on missions, on jobs, where he told everyone he would “figure it out when we get there”, or “wait until we know more”.

“Your talent for improvisation will only take you so far,” she informed him, getting to her feet. “We might need to make a counter statement when we get back. I’ll text Pepper.”

“You do that,” Peter sighed, frustrated. This day was already starting out on a sour note compared to the near-perfect time they had yesterday. He hoped it could only go up from here.

______

Breakfast downstairs was an...interesting affair. The elderly couple from yesterday was there once again, having a petty argument about using the wrong kind of knife for jam, when they spotted Gamora and gestured for her and Peter to join them. They shared stories of their favourite dates and anniversaries, which made the two smile, until they asked how long Peter and Gamora had been together.

“We’ve known each other for a couple years, but we’ve only been dating about four months, almost five,” Peter said, glancing over at a slightly defensive-looking Gamora. The couple motioned for him to elaborate. “I don’t know if civilians heard about the fight us Guardians had back at that time, but my father turned out to be pretty evil and we had to take him out. It was in that moment that I realized I had a giant crush on Gamora, and I didn’t want to lose out on telling her before some other crazy bad guy took us down.”

It still made her uneasy to hear or tell this story, no matter how many times it was spoken aloud. A lie rooted a little too deeply into truth, and Gamora could almost forget that it didn’t actually happen.

After Peter continued to make up stories during the duration of breakfast, the pair headed out to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a place that Mantis had listed and Pepper had recommended. “There’s lots of amazing stuff in there, but I think Gamora would especially love the Arms and Armor section,” she had said, handing them a stack of brochures.

The car ride was uneasy, to say the least. Gamora wasn’t sure why she was so annoyed this time, in all honesty. It wasn’t like this was the most stubborn either of them had been, nor the most dire issue they’d ever gotten into an argument over. And yet, it bothered her that Peter wasn’t planning on doing anything about this. For a guy who cares so much about being called Star-Lord, he doesn’t seem worried about being seen as a violent boyfriend, she thought, glancing over at him. He was humming mindlessly along with the radio, some pop song that played on rotation every two hours. She was uncertain about why he hadn’t switched to an oldies station, but the atmosphere felt too tense for her to ask.

The moment they got out of the car, it was like a switch had flipped. Peter took her hand and guided them to the museum entrance, where they were taken to the front of the queue and let in almost immediately the moment they showed their Academy passes. “Perks of being a hero,” Peter said to her in a sotto voice, slightly concerned that the civilians would overhear and complain. “Where should we start?”

Once they got going, it seemed as if things were back to normal. Gamora found that she was enjoying herself, not just in the Arms and Armor exhibit (though it was definitely her favourite), but in observing the art and furniture of the other exhibits that taught her a great deal of Terran history that she’d been unaware of until now. Peter also seemed to have relaxed a little bit, offering colourful commentary, joking around with her, his hand warm in hers. They seemed so used to it now that she felt as if they would continue to accidentally hold hands after the ruse was up. Or maybe it was just her, unused to the sort of intimacy Peter probably received in spades.

Brave individuals approached them and asked for a photo or for a moment to simply thank them, while the shyer members of the public stared at them from afar, attempting to be discreet in taking videos or photos, only to quickly turn away when eye contact was made. Even one woman blurted out that she thought they looked good together, before turning red in the face and dashing away, clutching at her companion and muttering about how embarrassing she was.

They took a break for lunch when both Peter and his stomach began to complain, tucking themselves away into the American Wing Café for a quick bite. “You alright?” Peter said cautiously, moments after they’d settled in.

“Are you asking after something specific?” Gamora said, tilting her head as she observed Peter practically inhaling his sandwich. “Because if you think I’m still irritated, you’d be correct.”

“I’m just surprised it bothers you so much,” Peter said, frowning. The effect was ruined by bits of lettuce falling out of his mouth. “I get you being worried about Thanos coming to kill me, like, me specifically, but this is just one post making up stories that barely anyone’s listening to. What’s the big deal?”

“You put stock into your reputation but this doesn’t worry you at all. Why?” she countered, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other. “I understand fighting for people to call you Star-Lord, since it holds both notoriety and sentiment, but what about fighting against being seen as a possessive, unreasonable lover?”

“The public have already gotten over it five minutes after it was posted, and I’m pretty sure any girls I’d be interested in from this point on would be smart enough to know it isn’t true,” Peter shrugged, licking his fingers. “Like, you know I’m not that guy. And hell, you were more physically threatening to him than me, we both know it, so who cares?”

Gamora exhaled slowly. “I guess it bothers me,” she admitted. “Not because you aren’t doing anything about it - I’ve come to expect little effort from you on things like this - but because...I don’t like the idea of people seeing you in a negative light.”

Peter smiled softly, reaching across the table to put his hand over hers. She saw a camera phone flash out of the corner of her eye, but instead of turning towards the culprit, her eyes fixated on Peter’s face instead, the signature warmth in his eyes a comforting sight. “That’s awesome of you - no, really - but that kind of stuff doesn’t really get to me. I care more about what you guys think of me than some random people from the public. And I know what kind of guy I am. So that’s all that matters.”

Smiling back, she felt the tension in her muscles dissipate. Contrary to popular belief, she did not enjoy fighting with Peter. “We should get going,” she said. “I want to look at the swords again.”

______

“I am Groot.”

“I know you’re bored, hold on a second - ”

“I AM GROOT!”

“Hey, now, don’t talk to me like that, watch your d’ast language, kid.” Rocket climbed out from underneath the table, where he had accidentally dropped his wrench. He was working on some weaponry that wasn’t all too critical, but since Peter and Gamora were taking their sweet time bringing supplies back in favour of a “romantic” weekend trip, he didn’t have what he needed to continue doing repairs on the Milano. It also meant he was looking after Groot even more than usual, as the other two would usually take him while Rocket was working. “Now, whaddaya want?”

“I am Groot.” His little wooden fingers pointed in the direction of the sleeping quarters.

“I don’t think she’s even on the ship, Groot. Haven’t seen her since dinner last night.” Rocket rummaged through the mess of wires he’d uncovered from one of the cooling units. It was a miracle the thing hadn’t blown to bits with the way they were tangled up.

“I am Groot.”

“Why would I be worried? Nebula’s probably just skulking in a corner somewhere and hissing at anyone who gets too close.”

“I am Groot!”

“What? How did you even get into my communicator, it’s password-protected.” Rocket leapt over to the coffee table, where his holo-tab was sitting, unlocked. He scrolled through his messages for a moment before looking back over at Groot. “Shit, you’re right. We gotta tell the others.”

“Wha’s going on, rat?” Yondu emerged from his room, looking around blearily. He got a suspiciously high amount of naps in for a guy who was supposedly failing a decent amount of his classes and needed to catch up. Then again, the naps were probably what kept him away from homework in the first place.

“Nebula’s somehow off-planet, she’s been spotted on some cluster near the Kyln,” Rocket said, shoving all of his work onto the floor in favour of his tablet, now projecting a map of Nebula’s rumoured location onto its surface. “We should tell Gamora, we aren’t equipped to handle this without her.”

“Shit,” Yondu yawned, scratching himself. “We really gonna interrupt her and Quill’s date night? They should be on their way to that light thing that bug-girl picked for ‘em.”

“There’s more pressing matters than Quill and Gamora getting all kissy-faced, alright? D’you have any idea how much trouble we’re gonna be in if Patch Man finds out we somehow lost Nebula? How did she even find a spaceship - Milano’s busted, quinjets ain’t built for space travel - ” Rocket started mumbling absent-mindedly to himself as his claws flew over the keyboard, attempting to plot a course for Nebula’s location.

Groot went running down the hall of the Milano, extending his arms to knock on Drax’s and Mantis’s doors. “I am Groot, I am Groot!”

Drax came out first, daggers in hand, ready for a fight. “What is it, small Groot?”

Mantis poked her head out from behind her door. She had earbuds in, listening to a playlist Peter had made for her, and spoke even louder than usual. “What has happened?!”

“We gotta cut in on Quill and Gamora’s love trip - Nebula’s missing,” Rocket called from the kitchen, where he was inexplicably rummaging for cutlery. “Can someone contact them already? Don’t have all day, it’s already getting dark out!”

“Rocket, while I understand the need to recover Nebula, what are we supposed to do about it? There are no functioning spaceships on this base,” Drax said patiently, lowering his daggers slowly in mild disappointment.

“We’ll figure it out,” Rocket snarled. “Now get to it!”

______

“Is it bad I kinda just want to spend the rest of the day in here?” Peter asked, flopping down on the bed. He rolled around to cocoon himself in the thick duvet. “I don’t know what it is, but I’ve been kinda tired this whole trip. Not in a bad way, just like a ‘I’m-letting-myself-get-tired’ kinda way.”

“We don’t get much rest at the Academy, so being off-campus probably helps your body relax,” Gamora suggested. “We don’t have to go, then. We can just...stay in. Order more pizza, watch the lights from here.”

“You secretly like pizza, don’t you,” he teased, turning over to look at her.

“Didn’t think it was much of a secret,” she replied, smiling as she set down her bag and her phone. “I adhere to a strict diet to maintain my physicality, but I enjoy indulging every once in awhile.”

“Pizza it is,” he cheered, reaching for his phone. To his surprise, less than a minute later, Gamora crawled in next to him, having apparently already changed into her pajamas in record time. She’d taken out her braids, leaving her hair slightly crinkled and messy, looking more unkempt than he’d ever seen her, but just as pretty as ever. It was good to see her so at ease.

“And maybe a movie?” she suggested, almost shyly.

He nodded more vigorously than he meant to. Gamora’s large chocolate brown eyes were kind of mesmerizing up close. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

______

Despite still being grounded, the Milano had delved into chaos, what with Rocket leaping about as quickly as he could to gather parts, Mantis and Drax attempting to flesh out Rocket’s flight path plan, Groot bouncing up and down on the kitchen counter in anticipation, and...well, Yondu was sitting on the couch, observing.

He was in charge of contacting Peter, though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to do it just yet. Not because of him being away with Gamora, though that did play a minor role, but because...was it really so crucial to get Nebula back? She left for a reason, a reason that everyone suspected but couldn’t confirm - Thanos. Going after Nebula likely meant confronting Thanos, and Yondu wasn’t in the mood for dying, not today.

Watching the others scramble around like their feet were on fire, you could never tell that Nebula constantly antagonized all of them, only being marginally nice to Gamora when it suited her. Gamora had insisted her sister wasn’t a lost cause, not yet, but it was telling when Nebula bolted the moment Gamora was gone as well. And they weren’t saying it out loud, but the way they were eyeing him? Yondu could tell the others were surprised he was still here when Peter wasn’t, either.

“We really that scared of Fury findin’ out?” Yondu called, tucking the holo-tab away, as if he’d done what he’d been instructed to do. “Maybe he’ll like it better now that she’s gone.”

“It’s not just Fury I’m worried about, you idiot. You wanna face Gamora when she gets back and finds out we didn’t tell her that her sister somehow disappeared off-planet to fight their evil daddy?!” A clang. “Ow.”

“I am Groot?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, thanks. So are you helpin’ or are you hinderin’? ‘Cause if you’re not helping, we could use some extra space.” Rocket’s arms were folded, his chin tipped upwards. Yondu supposed it would be more intimidating if Rocket wasn’t a mere 3 feet tall.

“Pretty sure Quill put Drax in charge, not you,” Yondu drawled, moving closer to stare him down.

“It would be wise of you to assist us, Yondu, unless you would like to have your toes removed.” Drax’s voice, usually jovial at best and monotonous at worst, was dangerously low, his blue eyes like ice.

“Yessir,” Yondu said sarcastically, though he moved over to the table to help. He wasn’t that much of an idiot.

______

“Just once, I’d like to watch a movie with no singing or dancing in it whatsoever,” Gamora sighed as the movie ended, her head moving to rest next to Peter’s shoulder. “I think you’re skewing my perception of Terran culture.”

“Twist and Shout is so good,” Peter said enthusiastically, turning to look at her. They were nearly nose-to-nose (well, Peter’s-nose-to-Gamora’s-forehead. She was uncharacteristically slouched over, her entire upper body pressed up against his). “I could totally be Ferris Bueller, right?”

“As long as you’re not expecting me to be Sloane,” Gamora said, patting his leg.

“I think you’re more like Jeanie,” he countered, leaning closer. “Did you see the way she took out the principal?”

She laughed softly, her hand coming to a stop on his knee. “Alright then, that helped me think of my next question. The Guardians, we think of each other like family. We fight, we argue, but we do it for each other. Do you see Nebula and I as your sisters?”

“No offense to Nebula, but she’s not exactly on the ‘ride-or-die’ level for me yet,” Peter chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. They were nearly cuddling at this point, body heat radiating off both of them at every spot they were touching. It made him vaguely wonder if there had been something in the pizza that had made Gamora unusually pliant, but even stranger, it wasn’t as odd to him as he thought. She was so comfortable around him now that it made him secretly feel pleased. He couldn’t imagine Gamora being able to snuggle up to anyone since she was a young, innocent girl, and now her arm was slung across his lap like it was nothing, his breath rustling her hair.

“And me?” There was a half-smile on her face, almost flirtatious. It reminded him of when they had stopped over on Knowhere, where Rocket, Drax, and Groot had gotten drunk, and he and Gamora had a moment that he held on to with a surprising fierceness.

“I, uh...I don’t think, that, uh, I think of you as my sister. First of all, it would make this whole fake relationship situation really weird,” he elaborated at her slightly baffled expression. “And you have some...qualities, that I like in girls.” He cursed inwardly at himself the moment the words left his mouth. What was he, some inexperienced ten-year old trying to flirt with his schoolyard crush? This was Gamora, someone that he’d been opening up to in the past few weeks in ways he’d never anticipated.

Thankfully, she didn’t prod further. “But I don’t dance, or quote movies you like, or find you funny,” Gamora said, teasing.

“Oh, you definitely dance.” Peter got to his feet, weaving their fingers together and pulling her up as well. “I think you’ve danced with me enough times to establish that you’re totally a dancer.”

He moved to press play on his Walkman, smiling as the gentle sounds of a chorus and strings flooded the room. Despite having the latest technology available to him soon after they’d landed on Terra, Peter had asked for songs he had discovered later on and truly loved to be put on tape. He liked the idea of continuing his mother’s Awesome Mixes, as if it was his way of responding to hers.

They slowly moved around the room, Gamora sighing as she always did but following his lead. She was slightly on her toes, as her feet were bare, taking away the height advantage her thick-heeled combat boots usually afforded her. Her face was closer than it usually was, and despite the fact they’d kissed just yesterday (was it really yesterday? It felt like decades ago), there was an intimacy present that she was unused to, the feeling of Peter’s breath against her nose that wasn’t too unpleasant.

He then ducked his head slightly, his mouth now practically in her hair, nestled comfortably against her ear. “You give your hand to me, and then you say hello,” he sang, his voice so soft that she nearly missed it. As they turned slowly around the generously-sized living room, she could see the lights from the show flickering in and out of view, bathing them in a warm glow. “And I can hardly speak, my heart is beating so…”

Peter opted to hum for the next few lines, but Gamora felt her face begin to warm. Their perceptions of music were so different. Gamora enjoyed her punk-rock, with lyrics about fighting against the establishment and navigating the hardships of life and death, but there was something so endearing and innocent about Peter’s connection to older songs. He was a modern man in many ways - his somewhat arrogant personality in contrast to his gentle, all-loving nature - but his heart beat in time to older music and movies that celebrated love and life.

She dared herself to look up at him, and there was that softness that she liked so much, a stark contrast from the steely-eyed confrontation they had earlier today and many times before. Their eyes locked as Peter picked up again. “...and longs to kiss your lips, and longs to hold you tight...to you, I’m just a friend...that’s all I’ve ever been…” He broke off to chuckle. “It’s weird, ‘cause this song is pretty slow, but they dance so quickly in the movie. I always thought it was perfect for just kind of...two-stepping...like this.”

Gamora let out a soft breath, unsure of what to say. A breeze whistled by from the open balcony door, disturbing her hair, but all she could see was how it made one of Peter’s curls flop over his forehead. She reached up to push it out of the way. “Do you have a question for me?” She wasn’t sure why she was whispering, or why her thumb lingered on his cheek longer than she’d meant to.

“Sure,” Peter smiled. “You know what I look for in a significant other. What do you look for in a guy?”

“Physically fit,” she said immediately. That was an easy one, she needed someone to keep up with her in training, combat, and...other things. “Disciplined, intelligent, level-headed.”

He chuckled softly. “You describing a life partner or a business partner?” His large hand pressed slightly closer on the small of her back, though the pads of his fingers were still gentle. “Afraid and shy, I let my chance go by, a chance that you might love me too…”

“Then I guess you could say I look for a person who could be by my side in all aspects of my life,” Gamora countered, though her voice remained quiet and even. “Someone to be on equal footing with.”

“Like someone who leads a team with you?” Peter asked, and her eyes widened in realization. Maybe…

“Maybe, exactly, like that,” Gamora breathed, her chin tipping upwards.

It was an unconscious choice by them both, an instinct, really, as they moved together. Gamora’s hands were now cupped in Peter’s, held delicately between their chests. Their bare feet, taking tiny, careful steps, now coming to a stop. Peter’s nose met the side of hers first, and it was so slow compared to the rushed kiss of yesterday, like they had all the time in the world…

“GAMORA! Gamora, are you there?!”

She jumped backwards, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Peter watched her, astonished. He’d never seen Gamora trip before, not without some sort of catalyst. Without giving him a second glance, she turned and walked into the bedroom, snatching up her tablet. “I’m here, Rocket, what’s wrong?” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Yondu was s’pposed to contact Quill but he decided to be a big blue idiot and do nothin’ - your sister, she’s gone! Off-planet, gone to hang out near the Kyln!”

“What?” Peter exclaimed, hurrying over immediately to stand near Gamora. “How’d she get off Earth? Does SHIELD - or Stark - have some space travel technology we don’t know about?”

“Can’t be too naive, Quill, their secrets got secrets. You guys gotta get back here immediately, ‘cause Fury doesn’t know yet and this ain’t something I wanna tell him!”

“We’ll leave right now,” Gamora promised, her voice level, though her mind was racing. “Don’t do anything rash until we’re back.”

She disappeared into the bathroom to start packing and get changed into her combat gear, leaving Peter to stand there, dumbly staring after her, the spell broken.

Oh, you’ll never know the one who loved you so.

a/n: i know i know, i did the cliché thing, though this whole fic is an excuse for me to deconstruct tropes and clichés so shh

the song they’re slow-dancing to can be found here, in reference to this scene from groundhog day.

[orendarecords]

Composer/Drummer Caleb Dolister Releases "Daily Thumbprint Collection 3, The Wandering" on Orenda Records

A 10 Year Musical Endeavor Recorded Across North America — A Groove-Heavy, Post-Genre Masterwork Of Progressive Instrumental Music Featuring Two Dozen World Class Musicians.

Daily Thumbprint Collection 3, The Wandering is an astonishing album, an instrumental wonder whose creation spanned more than ten years, thousands of miles, a galaxy of musical genres, and a small army of rock, classical and jazz musicians across the USA. Its creator, American composer and drummer Caleb Dolister, imagined a through-composed statement of groove-driven rock and beyond-genre music constructed with electric and acoustic instruments. Recording The Wandering evolved into a decade-long odyssey, a musical journey across North America with equipment hauled in cars and planes, visits to cities spanning the coasts, all to track two dozen musicians (the equivalent of a small orchestra or big band!) and a mountain of music refined through to multiple revisions. The end result is an album of gorgeous, multi-layered, spacious, and rhythmic compositions, distilled - like fine bourbon - through expertise and time.

Fans of avant-progressive and post-jazz and rock music like Jaga Jazzist, Mike Oldfield, Electric Masada, Steve Tibbetts, Tortoise, and Cinematic Orchestra will be enthralled. The Wandering feels both cinematic and powerful, beautiful, and dark. The musicians called upon contributed top-notch performances, and while very few of the players had the chance to record together, the resulting ensemble is stunning. The compositions are filled with compelling soundscapes that embrace an array of instrumentation through layers of contrasting but complementary environments like orchestral strings with odd-meter backbeats, or woodwinds floating over synth bass lines. There is a strong rock foundation in heavy grooves, reinforced at times by distorted guitars and screaming melodies. From the album’s first note until the last, the music’s peaks and valleys are sculpted and the arc flows with intention from one song to the next. The Wandering, says Dolister, is best experienced in its entirety, as an album. He describes his writing process as structured and revisional, with most compositions taking years to refine before being ready to start tracking parts. But despite being recorded across lengthy distances in miles and time, listeners will find The Wandering to be a remarkably coherent and mature tour de force, a gem refined over a decade.

Daily Thumbprint Collection 3, The Wandering includes 10 songs (plus an exclusive bonus track if purchased through the Orenda Records Bandcamp); track titles include the date when each composition was started and a reference to a specific memory in the journey.  It is the third album in Dolister’s Daily Thumbprint Collection series, a solo-project with its early roots in electronic post-rock featuring sequencing and live drums. The first album titled as Daily Thumbprint Collection was released in 2008 and followed by an EP in 2015 titled Daily Thumbprint Collection 2, Stencils, both on SNP Records.

Currently based in New York City, Caleb Dolister (b. 1981), is a composer, drummer, and engineer. He was raised by musician parents; his father is a bassist, and his mother, a singer, guitarist, and pianist. While his musical training included jazz performance at the University of Nevada in Reno, Dolister’s roots formed years before while performing with the family band as a kid, and evolved as a teenager when he created a punk rock and metal band with his friends. Today, he is better known for his tenure with Parisian-based post-jazz ensemble The Kandinsky Effect (Cuneiform Records & Ropeadope Records) and LA’s spontaneous-composition metal/jazz/electronic quintet DR. MiNT. He also performs, writes, and records with a diverse array of additional edgy projects rooted in jazz and rock alike including NYC groups Up & Orange (jam rock) and Twin Whales (Rock). His work is featured on more than 40 albums, released on Orenda Records, Cuneiform Records, Ropeadope Records, pfMentum, Nine Winds, New World Records, SPAT!, SNP Records, Air Tahoe Records, Northern Tone, and others. In addition, Dolister founded and runs the independent record label SNP Records, and developed a digital music distribution platform, called Tunepatch, which he provides free to musicians. Dolister also works as a web developer and consultant.

The making of Caleb Dolister’s Daily Thumbprint Collection, 3

In 2008, I released my first self-produced album and called it Daily Thumbprint Collection. It was a compilation of a couple of years worth of electronic-ish midi compositions with the exception that I recorded myself playing real drums. For a first-time solo project, it turned out pretty cool and had a vibe. Making it inspired me to want more. Before it was even released, I had already started writing a follow-up album and instead of midi, the next project would exclusively feature live musicians. I assumed it would take 1-2 years to write and another 1-2 years to travel around and track the players. I set out to write an album less influenced by electronic sounds, and more influenced by rock/prog music but with some symphonic instruments like strings and horns. But what began as a cool idea ended up using enough parts and instruments to require a small orchestra. It took over a decade to complete.

This was not the kind of recording project where I booked a studio and hired nearby musicians to come and record parts. I wrote for many of the instruments with specific musicians in mind, most of them close friends that I had met over the years through various touring and projects. Unfortunately, they were also spread out across the country. If I wanted them, I would have to travel. I also wrote for instruments that I did not have contacts for, and in those cases, I had to rely on recommendations. This recording was responsible for introducing me to a lot of incredible players I may not have had the chance to work with otherwise. 

That journey brought me from San Francisco to Los Angeles, Nashville to Reno, and finally wrapped in New York City. I flew several times in airplanes with my heavy interface carried by hand through airports. I drove thousands of miles between cities. During one of my trips, I not only survived a major car accident but so did my drums and recording equipment, including the laptop with years of work on this project and the hard drive with all the backups. I still remember the smell of pulling everything from the wreckage of my totaled SUV with fire and smoke still in the air. I tracked musicians in storage units, college offices, bedrooms, living rooms, occasionally a studio, and thankfully only once in a woodshop warehouse where I had to set up my recording interface and laptop on a giant table saw. I was recording instruments that I had never imagined recording, clumsily placing multiple microphones in the hopes that one of them would be a good source.  Everything was new and untested. After tracking was completed, I had thousands of takes to edit between all the parts and instruments in each song. I later found out the hard way that some of the sources also had problems. In one example, I could hear police sirens in the background. It quickly became a behemoth to edit and mix. I mixed it to near completion but burned out before eventually coming back to start it all over again, multiple times. In 2014, I took a hiatus from the project to write and release a separate EP which I called Daily Thumbprint Collection, 2: Stencils (released in 2015). After a year had passed, I jumped back into this mix and finally finished in late 2018. 

All of that said, I couldn’t be more proud of how this project turned out. I also could not be more thankful to all the musicians that contributed their amazing efforts. Listening to the project today reminds me that a decade has passed. Honestly, I don’t think I could write the same album now, even if I tried. In some ways, that makes it feel a little ironic to announce it as new, but it also makes it feel new to me, again. I hope you enjoy Daily Thumbprint Collection, 3.