#oh also source: they’re literally pink and orange?

[4pplec0re]

they’re lesbians btw

[luvdsc]

august.

Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him.

pairing :: liu yangyang x reader genre :: fluff, angst ⋮ best friend + college au word count :: 10,500 words warnings :: none. playlist :: time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ 2 kids (taemin) ⋆ daydreams (exes) ⋆ sharing you (lany) ⋆ august (taylor swift) ⋆ too close to love (will hyde) ⋆ sad stripped (lany) ⋆ strangers (taemin) ⋆ the 1 (taylor swift) author’s note :: can you believe that i literally wrote this entire 10k fic in one day aka today ??? whew this gave me the same rush that i got when i wrote my research paper in the class it was due for the day of, printed it out during break, and handed it in at the end of class :’) ↳ part of the almost collaboration series.

Liu Yangyang is jumping fences to escape late night parties, shared laughter over childhood favorite cartoons on February mornings, midnight dancing in the refrigerator light, and November kisses stolen in between the shelves of the nearby 7-Eleven. He is obscure doodles in the margins of your physics notes, good intentions laced in December’s mistakes, strawberry lemonade and broken truths wrapped in summer bliss, and September endings with honest lies.

He is your August, he is your everything, but he isn’t yours.

AUGUST 2018.

August has barely begun to fade away.

You’re eighteen years old, and you’re drunk off of your first taste of freedom, one toe already dipping into the shiny pleasures of adulthood. Your new roommate, Karina, has excitedly told you about the famous beach night themed frat party that kick starts every school year at your university. Everybody who’s anybody would be there, and your heart already races at the thought of going to your very first college party.

“Coral or blue?” Karina holds up a solid colored neon blue bikini and a striped, bright pink one for you to choose between.

“Blue.” You nod towards the first option, and she discards the other one back into the open drawer. You pull out a marigold yellow one and a black one lined with white strings, wordlessly gesturing towards them, and she immediately points to the latter.

“That one is gonna look so cute on you. Well, both would, but I love that one.”

You grin at her, silently thanking whoever decided to pair the two of you together for the random dorming. “Perfect, thanks. Do you know any of the guys hosting the party?”

“Yeah, Dejun? He’s really sweet and a year above us. I met him in the music elective I’m taking.” She turns to take off her shirt and tosses it to the side, pulling on her bikini and wriggling into a pair of ripped jean shorts. “You?”

“Kind of? Jaemin is in my project group in Intro to Engineering. He’s rushing for that frat.” You quickly change out of your outfit and into your chosen swim top and daisy dukes. You make sure to grab a pair of black flip flops from your closet. The bundle of nerves in your stomach grows as you step out of your dorm with your new friend, a bit anxious but also excited to attend your very first party.

Thank goodness for summer weather. It’s still a nice, warm 75 degrees Fahrenheit according to your weather app when you and Karina finally make your way to the frat house. The sun barely begins to set, but the party slash dayger had started earlier and is in full swing. There’s a DJ set up out front, blasting some sort of EDM music, and the lawn is absolutely covered in foam. You see the source of it shakily set up on the roof of the patio along with a couple of boys sitting up there, Hawaiian shirts barely covering their figures. You catch the eye of Jaemin, who happily waves at you from his vantage point, and you wave back at him.

“Oh my god, I love college,” Karina says, grabbing your arm excitedly as the two of you step into the foam. You reach down to pick up some of it before flicking it towards your roommate, who squeals before scooping some up and throwing it in your direction as well.

“Ready for our first shitty college drink?” You pull her through the mass of other students and towards the horribly decorated tiki bar stationed in the corner of the patio.

“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”

The two of you stumble over, still throwing handfuls of foam at each other amidst giggles before making a full stop in front of the bar. The older boy behind the makeshift counter lazily grins at you both, a shell necklace hanging loosely around his neck, and his unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt gives you a nice flash of his toned abs.

“Hey, I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two?”

“Two vodka shots, please.”

“Alright, ID?”

You freeze, and Karina’s grip on your arm tightens, and then Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, freshie. Two vodka shots coming right up.”

He pulls out two small plastic cups and pours out the drinks for you. “How many do you want?”

“This is good for now, thanks.” You and Karina pick up the drinks, smiling a little nervously at him. He flashes another amused smile at you. “Alright, come back anytime if you want another.”

You move away from the patio, and Karina follows close behind. The two of you throw back the drinks and dispose of the empty cups quickly. The burning sensation in your throat disappears after a few seconds, and you turn to your roommate. “Should we find our friends?”

“I think I see Dejun back there! Let’s go say hi, I can introduce you to him.” Karina drags you through the rising foam, the bubbles clinging to your skin, and when you go past the DJ stand, you feel the pounding bass reverberating in your chest harder than ever. You trek past the gate and into the backyard where the foam has risen to your waist, thanks to the enclosed fences. She taps on the shoulder of a boy with the prettiest almond eyes you have ever seen, and you shyly smile at him when he greets you.

“Hey, I’m Dejun.”

Oh my god, even his voice sounds pretty. Older college boys are definitely better and hotter than high school boys. Heck, they’re better than freshman boys. Nobody wants to date a freshman dude, not even the freshman girls.

“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand, but then realize how stupid that must be. You hastily start to retract your hand, but he laughs and warmly grasps your hand. Smiling at you, he shakes it firmly, squeezing your hand gently before letting go.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The butterflies in your stomach grow in volume as the conversation goes on, and you’re positively enamored by the end of the night. Karina had given you a look earlier before walking off with Dejun’s friend and joining the dancing crowd. With the addition of his phone number in your pocket and a promise to show you a new song he’s working on with his guitar next Friday, you’re walking on cloud nine.

“Do you want something to drink? I need a refill, and I can go grab you one,” he asks, and you’re about to offer to go with him, but then you remember the teasing upperclassman and simply agree, asking for another shot of vodka.

After he disappears, you look around, eyeing the crowd and wondering if you can spot your roommate anywhere. You bump into someone lightly and turn around to apologize. Your eyes meet a pair of curiously bright ones.

“Sorry about that, I’m looking for my roomie.”

The boy gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. He’s wearing one of those dumb Hawaiian shirts, too, and it’s unbuttoned, but he has a white T-shirt layered underneath it. “No biggie, it’s a massive party and it’s crowded. Who are you looking for?”

“Ah, I don’t know if you know her, but Karina? She went off with this dude, Kunhang, I think?”

His eyes light up at that name. “Oh, I know him! I saw him earlier by the keg stands inside. Your friend might be there, too. I can—”

“THE COPS ARE COMING!” A loud voice bellows, and you freeze up. Suddenly, the music is shut off as everyone starts running away. You start to panic, the terror rising in your chest, and the boy in front of you grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “What are you doing?! Don’t just stand there! We gotta go!”

“Wait, but Kar—” You start to object, but cut yourself off when you bump into his back as he abruptly stops. He scans the backyard, quickly assessing the situation before turning to you.

“There’s way too many people trapped in here, we’re not gonna make it to the gate. We need to climb over the fence. I’ll hoist you up, and you can help me up from there.”

“I don’t even know you,” you protest, and he throws you a look.

“Hi, I’m Yangyang, nice to meet you, I don’t want to get my ass hauled out by the police and continue the icebreakers in jail, so let’s move now. We good?”

“Yeah, okay, we’re good,” you say faintly, mind still whirling around as you try to grasp the situation. “I’m Y/N.”

“Great, now up you go.”

He immediately picks you up without any warning, and you almost fall backwards, arms flailing before you grasp the top of the fence and pull yourself up. Balancing precariously on top of it, you grab his arm, tugging him up until he’s sitting right next to you, too. The both of you swing your legs over the fence and jump down to the other side. You let out a sigh of relief, squatting down as you clutch your heart.

“Oh my god, we made it. I didn’t get arrested at my first party.”

“What an amazing accomplishment.” Yangyang brushes off the back of his shorts. “We aren’t going to jail. Freshman year is gonna be a breeze if your bar is set this low.”

“Hey!” You frown at him, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know I’m a freshman?”

“It’s written all over your face.” You give him a look, and he relents. “Only a freshman would be this scared of getting caught.”

“So are you an upperclassman?”

“Nah, this is my first party, too. I’m rushing for Nu Chi. Hold on, wait here.” He sneaks around the edge of the fence, peering around for a few seconds before jogging back towards you. “Okay, the police are over there. I’m gonna have to wait a while before going back in.”

“You have to go back?”

“Part of tonight’s rush process,” he sighs before turning to you. “Do you live on campus?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna walk back now,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late, and I’m not in a partying mood anymore.”

“I can walk you back,” he offers, and you shoot him a grateful smile.

“That’d be great, thanks.”

The two of you start the trek back, an awkward lull in the conversation making itself known. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly when a soft breeze picks up. There’s a light rustling noise, and you pay no mind to it until a soft cloth is draped over your shoulders. Eyes widening, you notice the colorful, palm tree-printed button down shirt wrapped around you and the boy next to you, looking straight ahead with his hands shoved into his pockets. Smiling to yourself, you slip on the shirt, loosely buttoning the front of it.

“So, Yangyang,” you casually begin, testing his name on your tongue for the first time. You decide you like it. It’s cute. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow, and you continue, “Since our lives are no longer in jeopardy, we can continue the icebreakers, right?”

His lips curve into a smile. “Alright, shoot. What’s your first question?”

“Captain America or Iron Man?”

“Oh, Iron Man, hands down. He’s so…”

You meet him in August.

FEBRUARY 2019.

“Hey, where’s your cereal? The Reese’s one?”

February marks six months of your relationship with Dejun. It also marks six months of your friendship with Yangyang. It is time for your weekly Sunday rituals of watching old cartoons and eating breakfast, and you could’ve sworn that box was still half full last week. You rummage through the top drawer Yangyang had designated for snacks and other foods in his dorm as he takes out the milk from his mini fridge and carries it over to his desk.

“I ran out a few days ago. There’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch somewhere in there though.”

With a victorious cry, you manage to pull out the slightly crushed box of the aforementioned cereal from underneath the packages of flamin’ hot Cheetos and spicy nacho Doritos and triumphantly bring it over to your best friend. He already pulls out two bowls (which were stolen from the dining hall) and hands over the plastic spoons in his grasp (which was also taken from the dining hall).

“Thanks.” After dropping a spoon into each bowl, you shake out the sugary cereal squares before pouring the milk because you’re not an absolute heathen who puts milk in first, like Sicheng. Yangyang clambers up to his top bunk bed, and you carefully pass over the two bowls of cereal, milk sloshing precariously near the edges. You climb up afterwards, and he gives you your bowl once you settle down.

“So, Scooby Doo or Pokémon?”

“Mm, we watched Pokémon last Sunday already, so let’s do Scooby Doo this time.” He nods in agreement, pulling up the cartoon from the queue in Netflix, and the two of you lean back against the ginormous mound of pillows and stuffed animals of his that occupy nearly half of his bed.

You’re shoveling a spoonful of cereal into your mouth when he casually asks, “So how’re you and Dejun doing?”

Choking slightly, you quickly swallow. “We’re doing good. I think he booked a table at the Italian restaurant down the street for Valentine’s Day. Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”

“I’m forcing Renjun to come watch that “‘Happy Death Day’ movie with me.” The faint sounds of the Scooby Doo theme song plays in the background as you hum in acknowledgement, mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk.

“That’s so sweet. So who confessed to who? Not gonna lie, I thought you had a crush on Hyuck, not Jun.”

“... I would shove you right now, but I just did my laundry, and rewashing my comforter is expensive and I’m out of quarters.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before lifting his bowl up to sip the best part of having Cinnamon Toast Crunch: the milk infused with all the cinnamony, sugary goodness. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl with a soft clink, a sudden worrying thought popping into your head.

“I bought him some customized guitar picks and a pretty composition book. Do you think he’ll like it?”

“That’s a pretty basic gift, isn’t it? It feels like something Kun would get him,” he teases, but his heart falls when he notices you chewing on your bottom lip, spoon held limply in your hand.

“Hey, I’m just joking, of course he would like it. He’s completely whipped. He’ll love anything from you.” Yangyang’s voice grows softer, and he fiddles with a stray thread on his comforter, avoiding eye contact with you. “I know I would.”

He looks up slightly and sees you smiling gratefully at him, eyes shining bright. He quickly ducks his head, turning away slightly to hide the hues of pink blooming on his cheeks. He feels you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“Thanks, Yang.”

Replaying the sight of your smile in his mind makes his stomach flip flop, and he resists the overwhelming urge to tell you you’re pretty, pushing it back into the farthest crevice of his mind.  Your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s carrying the entire world, and he doesn’t know what to do. He paints on a tight smile of his own, silently hoping you can’t hear the way his heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

Yangyang knows that having feelings for his best friend, specifically one of his good friends’ girlfriends, is something he absolutely should not be doing, but he can’t help it. His stupid heart refuses to listen to his brain. For now, all he can do is desperately hope that this dumb crush of his goes away soon because while 99% of his friends are oblivious (including you), Ten and Donghyuck are not. They’ll be able to spot his feelings from a mile away, like how Kun always knows when there’s a good sale going on at the Asian supermarket downtown (This week, it was the 50% off bean sprouts and chili paste).

Letting out an inaudible sigh, Yangyang carefully rests his head on top of yours. Clutching the empty bowl with one hand, he shoves his other one under his thigh to stop himself from reaching over and tangling his fingers with yours. He stares at the screen, watching until the bright colors blur together.

“Anytime.”

He likes you in February.

AUGUST 2019.

The earth spins around the sun for another time, and August makes its presence known once again. It’s Thursday night, and you’re sitting on the countertop in Nu Chi Theta’s kitchen, swinging your legs back and forth as Yangyang struggles to make some scrambled eggs because the half filled carton of eggs the two of you managed to find is the only thing that isn’t expired (besides Jeno’s protein shakes, but neither of you are gonna touch that cardboard tasting monstrosity).

“Maybe I should make it.” You peer over at the frying pan, wincing when you see the full damage of your future meal. “Did you use oil?”

“Of course I did!” he exclaims indignantly before pitifully pushing around the nearly charred mess of yolk and whites around with his spatula. “I’m not Mark.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, waving your hand around to dissipate the acrid burning smell, and Yangyang throws you a dirty look. He grabs a fork and stabs a small chunk of the eggs. Picking it up, he brings it closer to his mouth before hesitating. His eyes dart to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him, a silent challenge in your gaze. The sad piece of egg hovers in the air for a few more seconds before he defeatedly drops it back into the pan.

“Okay, what if we just Uber Eats some McDonald’s?” Turning off the stove, he then tosses the remnants of his cooking into the trash and drops the pan into the sink.

“Stellar plan. Best idea you’ve had all night.” You hop off the counter to stand next to him, propping your chin on his shoulder to see him pull up the app. He immediately puts in your usual order along with his before holding it up for you to see it better.

“Looks good?”

“Looks perfect.”

He clicks the confirmation button, and the delivery is set to come in 30 minutes. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are with your chest pressed against his back and hastily move away, warmth spreading across your cheeks.

Glancing over at your best friend, you don't miss the way Yangyang smiles down at something on his phone before his fingers fly across the screen. When he looks up, you immediately turn away, focusing your eyes on anything but him.

“Hey, you’re going to the Alpha Sig formal, right?” Yangyang calls out, and you throw on a teasing grin.

“You mean Alpha Sigma Psi, also known as the sorority I’m in?”

“Ah, right, yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But you’re going, right?”

You nod, the sudden realization creeping up on you. “Oh yeah, I am, thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot to ask, but do you want t—”

“Ningning just asked me to go with her,” Yangyang blurts out, and you freeze, failing to hide your shock for a split second before you regain your composure.

“Oh wow, that’s great, Yang! I’ll see you there then.” You try to give him a convincing smile. He wrings his hands, biting his bottom lip. Something is on his mind. You can tell. He’s not someone to hold back with his words, but this time, he is.

“I… I don’t know if I’m gonna go,” he says at last. Your heart picks up a little at that. Does that mean he doesn’t want to go to the dance at all? Or does he not want to go with Ningning? If you asked him now, would it make a difference?

“I’ve never slow danced,” he confesses, leaning against the opposite counter, and your heart drops. So that was it. Of course, he wouldn’t reject Ningning. She’s an absolute goddess, heck, you wouldn’t say no if she asked you either. You stamp out that last flicker of hope.

“What if I suck at it?” he continues, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. “Oh god, I bet Yukhei and Kunhang are never gonna let me live it down. I can do choreographed dances, but I’m gonna mess up over a stupid slow dance. But where am I supposed to put my hands?! Like on her shoulders? Her waist? Do I hold her hand?”

Your eyes follow the way his hair ruffles slightly, and you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. You swallow hard before saying quietly, “I can teach you?”

His hand pauses mid-movement, and your eyes fly down to meet his. His eyes widen, and he contemplates your offer for a split second before nodding excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be great! Can you teach me right now? While we wait for our food to come!”

“S-sure,” you stammer, flustered at the sudden acceptance and his eagerness. “Um, here? In the kitchen?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs before straightening up. “The lights should be dimmed, right? We can kind of mimic that here to set the mood or whatever.”

He goes over and fiddles with the light switch, flicking it on and off, and you laugh, walking over and placing your hand over his. “What are you doing? Some kind of Kevin Nguyen mating call to look for a rave bae?”

“First off, I’m offended that you think I’d be one of them,” Yangyang narrows his eyes at you. “Secondly, I’m trying to make this feel more formal dance-y. Oh, wait!”

He turns off the lights for the last time and reaches over to pull open the refrigerator doors, the artificial fluorescent light pouring out and mixing with the faint beams coming in through the window from the street lamps outside. He grins at you, satisfied. “Romantic, huh?”

You roll your eyes, but the amused smile on your face gives away your true feelings. “Wow, Romeo, you swept me off my feet. The food is gonna go bad, and Kun is gonna kill you for the high electricity bill.”

“What food? Jeno’s protein shakes probably never expire.” He snorts before standing closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the counter. You can see the pretty gold flecks in his irises, and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I guess this means you gotta teach me fast before we waste more electricity, right?”

You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away, and he laughs, stepping back. You let out a shaky breath, remembering that your lungs need oxygen in order to, you know, continue living.

“Okay,” you clear your throat before pulling out your phone and putting on a slow song. “Ready?”

“You chose Ed Sheeran? Thinking Out Loud? Really?”

You raise your hands up defensively. “Hey, he’s the king of sappy slow songs that all girls want to be played at their weddings for their first dance.”

When your legs don't work like they used to before,

And I can't sweep you off of your feet,

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

“Is this the song you want played at your wedding?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and your face grows warm. You ignore the question, and this time, you’re the one taking a bold step forward, a few centimeters now separating you and your best friend. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps lightly before meeting your eyes.

And darling, I will be loving you 'til we're seventy,

And baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three,

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways.

“So, your hands go here.” You take his hands and place them on either side of your waist. His arms freeze up. “Relax, Yang. Precious cargo here.”

He lets out a chuckle, loosening his grip as he starts to relax. You reach up and slide your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers. You gaze back at him, saying softly, “Now pull me closer.”

He does so.

Maybe just the touch of a hand,

Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,

And I just wanna tell you I am.

“And now follow my lead. We’re going to take one step. And then another. We’re just slowly turning in a circle.”

After a few spins and steps, you stop leading and let yourself be led. Yangyang continues to hold onto you carefully, and you can hear him muttering a 1, 2, 3, 4 count under his breath until he finally gets the hang of it. He grows a little braver, pulling you even closer.

So honey now,

Take me into your loving arms,

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.

“Are you going with Dejun?” he asks quietly, and you stiffen at the mention at him before shaking your head.

“No, we broke up in July.”

Yangyang falters in his step before recovering. “Oh. You never told me.”

“Yeah.” You struggle to keep your voice level. “I just… he’s your friend, and I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“You’re my best friend though,” he says firmly, looking you directly in the eyes. His grip on your waist tightens. “It’s his loss. That dumbass just lost the best person who’ll ever come into his life.”

You give him a tired half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. He hugs you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and securing you against his chest. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and hope that he doesn’t feel how quickly your heart beats in your chest.

Place your head on my beating heart,

I'm thinking out loud,

Maybe we found love right where we are.

“Thanks, Yang,” you whisper, your breath tickling his skin. He envelops you tightly, and the two of you continue to spin in slow circles, quietly dancing in the refrigerator light as the remaining verses of the song warble in the background.

You think you finally understand what Dejun meant when he said he’s breaking up with you because your heart was already occupied by someone else.

You fall in love with him in August.

NOVEMBER 2019.

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: hey you up?

[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: 7/11 in ten mins?

Tiredly rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of your dorm building, one of Jeno’s sweaters draped over your figure. November nights are cold, but this one seems chillier than usual. Yangyang stands near the front steps, and he stiffens up when he notices whose hoodie you’re wearing. He makes no mention of it though when you join him.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He glances over to you as the two of you walk side by side to the small convenience store just on the edge of campus. You shake your head, shoving your hands into the front pocket of your sweater.

“I was up cramming for midterms. I could use a break anyway,” you shrug. A wisp of your hair falls in your face, and Yangyang starts to reach out to fix it, but forces himself to keep his hand by his side. You reach out to carelessly brush it away, tucking it behind your ear.

“What about you?” You look over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Rough night?”

He smiles tiredly at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicks a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “More like rough week. Two more midterms left, and they’re for electromagnetic theory and linear systems.”

“Oh god, good luck. I took linear systems today, and it was absolutely brutal.” You wince, brightening up when you see the familiar neon orange, red, and green lights up ahead.

“Maybe I should just withdraw and take it again next quarter,” your best friend grumbles, kicking the stone as far as he possibly can.

“You really want another quarter with Hwang?”

“You’re right,” he sighs, “I just need to get a C+ to maintain my GPA. C if I’m pushing it.”

The two of you hurry over to the 7-Eleven, quickening your pace, until you reach the store doors, and you pull them open. Entering quickly, you push the door open slightly wider, and Yangyang slips in behind you. The cashier doesn’t even look up, texting away on his phone. You make a beeline towards the chips aisle, grabbing a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos and a pack of sour gummy worms.

“What are you getting, Yang?” You call out over your shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the Red Bull stand at the end of the aisle. When you hear no response, you halt in your steps, turning around. Yangyang stands in the middle of the aisle, looking dazed under the fluorescent lights.

Putting your items back on the shelf, you approach him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Yangyang, what’s wrong?”

He jerks back before silently holding up his phone for you to see. There’s a slew of text messages from Ningning a few hours ago, and a quick scan tells you all you need to know. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest when you look back at him, a forlorn expression on his face.

“She dumped me,” he says quietly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “She said our relationship was like a friendship. She didn’t feel anything. She said we could still be friends if I wanted to be though.”

He jabs a large bag of Lays potato chips angrily as his voice raises slightly higher. “But I don’t get it. Do friends take each other on dates? Do friends spend the night? Do friends hug each other and hold hands walking to class? Do friends spend three hundred dollars to do a surprise weekend trip for their birthday?”

He whirls around to face you, and he’s so close that you can see those pretty golden sparkles in his eyes again. Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they flutter shut, and you press your lips against his. The 90s pop station music playing overhead seems to fade away, and all you can focus on is that your best friend tastes like spearmint gum and grape soju. He pulls away abruptly, the realization of what he’s done finally hitting him as his chest heaves up and down.

“Do friends kiss like this?”

His voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence. You feel like you’re spinning out of control, a split second from careening and crashing.

“No, we—they don’t,” you mumble, and Yangyang sees the starstruck look in your eyes, and he wants to apologize: to say sorry for kissing you. But he doesn’t. Because for some reason, he doesn’t feel sorry. He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists before exhaling slowly. He sees you looking back at him this time, and he wonders if you feel as equally lost as he does.

Because you’re right. Friends don’t kiss each other like that. Friends don’t feel like this about each other.

He kisses you in November.

AUGUST 2020.

The sun still shines bright late into the day, and August greets you like an old friend. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notebook designated for Quantum Mechanics. Yangyang sits next to you in the lecture hall, making a bunch of origami cranes before tossing them at Renjun’s head right in front of him. When the bird reaches its target for the sixth time in a row, the annoyed boy whirls around in his seat, glaring at your best friend.

“Stop that,” he hisses, and Yangyang innocently raises his hands in the air. Renjun angrily frowns at him before turning back around in his seat. After a few minutes, Yangyang flicks another crane towards his friend. If this was a cartoon, you would see steam blowing out of your friend’s ears. You silently watch as he wordlessly picks up his phone, seething as he presses on a particular number.

Suddenly, Travis Scott’s SICKO MODE starts blasting, amplified by the large auditorium-like room. The professor goes silent, and everyone turns to see Yangyang scrambling to pick up his phone. He fumbles around for a few seconds with it before finally shutting it off and putting it on vibrate mode. Cheeks burning red, he meekly puts his phone back in his bag and squeaks out a “sorry” before sinking down in his chair (You can see the culprit grinning like the cat ate the canary right in front of him. Karma’s a bitch who also goes by the name of Renjun).

You pat his arm consolingly as he sulks next to you for a few minutes, mouth jutting out into a pout. You decide to take pity on him and lean closer to him, whispering quietly, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you boba after class?”

Immediately, he brightens up. “One oolong milk tea, half sugar with white pearls and coconut jelly?”

“Yes, I’ll pay for your overpriced drink,” you huff, thinking about how his one seven dollar drink could buy you a whole rotisserie chicken that’ll last you a week. At least the fluffy dog at Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is cute and fun to play with. “I’ll even get the honey waffle fries.”

“Heck yeah!” he whisper-yells, fist pumping quietly before he suddenly deflates. “Wait, I can’t. I promised Lia I’d get lunch with her.”

Ah, right, there’s Lia now. Yangyang’s new girlfriend: the only other student who went to Düsseldorf, Germany to study abroad over the summer, and inevitably, the two of them became close. All you really know about her is that she’s pretty, she’s in Iota Theta Zeta, and she followed you on Instagram a few weeks ago (of course, you followed her back because of the unspoken best friend and girlfriend policy).

Her page looks carefully curated, and there’s a common pink tinted theme going on throughout her feed. She has over a thousand followers, and it seems like Yangyang fits perfectly in her magazine curated life, judging by how he occupies nearly every picture taken in the summer with her or how he’s tagged as the photographer. You can’t deny that they look good together, pointedly shoving the green eyed monster back under the bed.

You take a peek at your messy Instagram page where you only post pictures when you’re half drunk, so there’s no semblance of uniformity anywhere. You shrug at him, pocketing your phone.

“No biggie. I’ll see if Karina is up for some boba. She’s been holed up in the dance studio already, and it’s only week two of classes, can you believe it?”

“I remember Ten was the same way,” Yangyang hums, eyes fixated on his phone and fingers tapping away. He laughs quietly, lips curling into a pretty smile, and you glance over curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm?” Yangyang finally tears his eyes away from his screen for a split second to look at you before another buzz takes his attention away. He’s distracted, lovestruck, and you wistfully smile before turning back to your notes.

“Sorry, what’d you say earlier?” he loudly whispers a few minutes later, and you barely glance up from the large bulbasaur doodle you’re in the progress of completing right next to the chart marking the wave functions for a bouncing ball that you had copied down from the blackboard.

“Oh, I just asked what was so funny,” you murmur, coloring in the flowers you drew around the Pokémon with your blue ballpoint pen.

He looks confused for a moment before lighting up. “Oh! It was just a German joke. It’s not really funny if I translate it though.”

“Got it, no worries.” You notice the professor starting a new example problem, and you abandon your drawing, focusing on the formulas rapidly filling up the chalkboards in front of you. A quiet chuckle echoes in your ears, and you pause in your note taking to look over and see your best friend still typing on his phone. You make a mental reminder to create a copy of your notes for him later on when you pass the library on the way to the dining hall.

“Hey, Y/N.” Yangyang nudges you gently. “Rain check on the boba?”

You offer him a soft smile. “Of course. Anytime.”

He gives you a quick grin in return before his attention returns to the device in his hand—or rather, the pretty girl behind those texts. Your best friend is sitting right next to you, but you’ve never felt so far away. You know distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you don’t think it’s possible to be even fonder of him than you are now. Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him. No wonder it’s beginning to hurt so much.

You lose him in August.

DECEMBER 2020.

December is the coldest month of the year, yet it is also simultaneously the warmest with all the holiday festivities it brings. If Yangyang were to choose a month to describe you, it’d be this one. You are a walking paradox, a conundrum he might never solve, an oxymoron come to life. He doesn’t understand how you can be his best friend, yet feel like a stranger; a friend who he wants as a lover; someone who has created such an impact in his life, but disappears seamlessly here and there.

He wonders when you’ve gotten so distant. He wonders why he never noticed the way you seemed to slip away through the cracks until it’s now nearing the end of the year, and the last time he’s seen you in person was before the November autumn break.

But you’re here.

You’re standing right next to the punch bowl filled with spiked eggnog, wearing a garish knitted button down jumper with brightly colored Christmas lights decorating it. It’s perfectly in theme with the Ugly Christmas Sweater party Nu Chi is holding, and Yangyang is beyond ecstatic to know that you’re attending. He had texted you an invite two weeks ago, and you merely reacted with a thumbs up.

Yangyang swears he was going to follow up with you on that, but he got so caught up with midterms, then meeting Lia’s family for Thanksgiving, then studying for finals, and then finally, preparing for this party. Buying enough beer for twenty-three keg stands is a lot more difficult than it seems (Donghyuck’s car broke down halfway during one trip, and they all had to carry back the packs of beers to the house in 40 degree weather in their Sperry boat shoes and Patagonia long sleeves that definitely weren’t cut out for this kind of weather).

His girlfriend is somewhere in the room, wearing the other half of the reindeer sweater she forced him to put on, but all he can focus on is you. He hurriedly makes his way over, skidding to a stop in front of you, and you’re startled before a smile spreads across your face.

“Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You grin at him, reaching out to poke the reindeer tail sticking out from the front of his itchy sweater (Lia got to wear the head half of the reindeer, while he was stuck with the behind).

“Yeah, how have you been?” He reaches around you to pick up a cup and pour himself some eggnog. He offers you one, but you decline with a small shake of your head.

“I’ve been doing good, a bit tired with finals coming up, but what’s new?” You joke, grabbing one of the sugar cookies from the table. You’re secretly surprised that they actually have real food (No, Hyuck, Jell-O shots do not count as real food). You suspect Jaemin has something to do with it. He always contributes to the annual Greek row bake sale.

“Are you here with someone? Did Karina come?” he asks, curiosity coating every word. He looks around for your roommate, but she’s nowhere to be found.

You shake your head. “No, I actually came with—”

“Me!”

Yukhei bounds over, slipping an arm over your shoulder. He hands you a new cup of apple cider, which you accept gratefully. He grins happily at Yangyang, who freezes up at the sight of his tall friend. “I asked her to be my date for the party, and she agreed. She also made our sweaters! Aren’t they so cool? There’s even lights that spell my name and play Christmas songs. She did a bunch of cool programming tricks to make them work.”

Yangyang realizes with a start that the two of you are indeed wearing matching sweaters, and that leaves a rather sour taste in his mouth (and it definitely wasn’t because of expired eggnog). The corners of his lips tilt downward as he presses his lips together tightly.

“So… you two are together?” He gestures between you and Yukhei with a forced laugh. Jealousy never did look good on anybody, and unfortunately, he’s not an exception.

“We’re just seeing each other and seeing how it goes for now,” you answer quietly, noting the way your best friend reacts. You have always been good at reading him, and you tread carefully now, not wanting to make a scene. Drunk Yangyang never holds anything back, and he’s had quite a few pre-game shots already (It definitely doesn’t help that he’s a lightweight, too).

“I see. How did you guys meet? Or I guess, start talking?” He attempts to look intimidating, staring down at Yukhei, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when he’s trying to stare down a six foot guy who’s more like an overgrown puppy and his friend.

“Oh, she came by for one of your boba runs, but you were still out with Lia. So I asked if I could go with her.” Yukhei flashes his pearly whites at you, and you chuckle, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“I said yes, and we hit it off, I guess.”

“You guess? And you took him on our boba runs?”

“You were out with Lia,” you say defensively, and he blanches when he hears his girlfriend’s name come out of your mouth.

“You could’ve waited,” he mutters, but you still hear it, and you give him a scathing look, finally too tired of this push and pull game that’s been going on behind the scenes for nearly three years now.

“I did. I waited over an hour here for you, but you didn’t show up or even text me that you were gonna be late. Yukhei was nice enough to offer to go with me.”

He stays silent, and you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. Yukhei looks at you in concern, but you reach up and squeeze his hand reassuringly, which your best friend doesn’t fail to notice, his lips pressing into an even thinner line.

“I don’t understand what the deal is,” you finally burst out, startling both boys. “What’s the big deal about me and Yukhei going out?”

Something inside of him finally snaps. “The big deal is that you’re basically sleeping through my list of friends and then breaking up with them! First Dejun, then Jeno, now Yukhei? Who’s next? Should I give Renjun a heads up? Pencil you into his planner? Or Sicheng?  Sungchan? You have a class with him, so you’re bound to flirt with him, too, right? When are you gonna stop fucking around with my frien—”

He gasps, stopping mid-outburst as he stares at you in disbelief. Apple cider slides down from his hair, dripping onto his face and soaking into his sweater, the sticky juice clinging to his skin uncomfortably. You’re absolutely seething, the empty cup crackling in your clenched fist. Shocked, Yukhei carefully tugs the plastic away from you and places it on the table before replacing it with his own hand, his thumb caressing circles on the back of your hand soothingly. Yangyang doesn’t dare to meet his furious gaze, lifting his chin to look at you instead. The entire room has hushed down by now, all eyes staring directly at the three of you in a mixture of surprise and slight terror.

“Screw you, Yangyang,” you say lowly, voice shaking with anger. Tears form on the edge of your waterline, but you blink them away before hastily brushing a stray droplet from your cheek. “They asked me out. I said yes. We went out. It didn’t work out. We move on. Just like how you’ve gone out with my  friends. And they didn’t work out, so you moved on. So what’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong about trying again to find love?”

He can’t answer you, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails indent miniature crescents in his palms—until the pain overtakes the feelings that are threatening to spill from his heart. Yangyang may not be yours, but he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t call you his either.

Love. That’s what you want, that’s what you crave, but not if it’s from him. So what is he supposed to do with love that’s unwanted? It’s bursting at the seams, and he has nowhere to hide it anymore.

He loves you in December.

AUGUST 2021.

August sneaks up on you this time around, and you find yourself in Kunhang’s apartment. All of your close friends are here, starting the last year of youth with one final first day party. You think back to that day three years ago: when your eyes met a pair of equally bright ones for the first time.

Curled up next to Yukhei on the couch, you look across the room and meet those very same eyes, although they seem hazier this time around. Lia is wrapped around his arm, and you think it’s quite ironic how both your and his relationships remain the same after all this time. Perhaps you both were bad luck for each other, leading to the other’s demise with short lived relationships. He looks away from you.

The rules of truth or dare are simple. You cannot ask the same person again until three other people have been asked first, and no one can be asked more than three times in each round. And, for reasons you can’t understand, everyone seems to take the code of truth seriously.

“I’ll start,” Kunhang announces, leaning back in one of the several beanbags he has in his place. “Goeun, truth or dare?”

Goeun sighs, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Dare.”

“You and Mark, seven minutes in heaven.” Hendery points towards the coat closet, and the immediate reaction of hoots and wolf whistles has the girl rolling her eyes. With an exasperated huff, she stands up and pulls a red faced Mark along with her.

“Wait, you gotta pick the next person!” Donghyuck calls out, and she stops in her tracks, throwing open the closet door and shrugging. “You can choose for me.”

With that, she and Mark disappear behind the door, and Donghyuck turns toward the rest of the group, eyes glimmering mischievously. You pay no attention to him, absentmindedly playing with Yukhei’s fingers. You tug one of his rings off his finger, and he smiles, plucking it from your grasp carefully before holding your hand. He carefully slides it onto your right ring finger, but it falls off. Grinning, he pretends to try it on every single one of your fingers until finally settling on your thumb. The ring fits snugly there, and you admire it, wriggling your thumb around.

“Well, look at that. It fits you. I think that means we’re meant to be,” Yukhei says, smiling broadly, and you laugh, interlocking your fingers with his again before glancing down at the silver engraved band resting on your finger. The weight of the metal feels heavy resting against your knuckle.

“Yangyang, truth or dare.”

Donghyuck’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you instinctively perk up in your seat at the sound of his name before freezing up in your spot. Yukhei squeezes your hand softly, and you tighten your grip around his fingers.

“Truth.”

“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck sighs, slouching back against the armrest. Yukhei leans over and whispers something in his ear before settling back next to you, shifting slightly to wrap his arm around you. Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow at your boyfriend before shrugging. “Okay, here’s an easy one. Are you in love…”

“Yes.”  is his immediate response, and you notice how Lia absolutely preens next to him.

“… with Y/N?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately turn your head to look at Yukhei, your eyes growing wide in horror. He looks apologetic, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but just the way he looks at you, it’s so obvious, and I had to know.”

You whip around to face the boy in question. With bated breath, you look at him, but Yangyang stares at the center of the floor, struggling internally. Everyone is quiet, and it reminds you of the calm before a storm. At last, he looks up, gazing right at you, and you can almost swear that you see those pretty little gold flecks in his irises from here.

“Yes,” Yangyang confesses quietly.

There’s almost a collective gasp rippling through the room, and Yukhei lets out an inaudible swear under his breath. Your grip on his hand grows slack as you fumble to get a grasp on the entire situation.

He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.

The words echo in your mind like a mantra until it grows so loud that you can’t hear any of your own thoughts anymore. Lia is in absolute hysterics, demanding an explanation from him, but he merely shrugs her off. Standing up, he quickly moves to leave the room, glancing at you one more time before disappearing out the front door.

It’s like your body is on auto-pilot after this. You drop Yukhei’s hand, immediately standing up and rushing after your best friend, paying no mind to the hushed whispers that only seem to increase in volume once you leave. You step out onto the porch, and there he is, sitting on the steps.

You quietly stand behind him, contemplating what to say and carefully choosing your next words. But there’s only one question on your mind.

“Why did you say that?”

He stays silent for a moment, staring out at the moon shining brightly ahead. “Because I meant it.”

Your heart wrenches in your chest. “You shouldn’t.”

He finally turns to look at you, an indescribable look in his eyes. It reminds you of heartbreak. “But I do. And I tried not to for the past three fucking years, but I can’t anymore.”

“Since freshman year?” You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you let them go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yangyang grips onto the edge of the stairs tightly, frustration ringing with every word that falls from his mouth. “Because I was scared. And I thought you never felt the same way. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”

“Yang…” You whisper, hand reaching out as you let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. Then, you pull back, curling your fingers into fists, pressing crescent indentations into the palms of your hands.

He stands up, whirling around to look at you, desperate. “Tell me I’m not too late. Please, Y/N.”

Something inside of you breaks. You open your mouth and start to say something when the door opens behind you. Turning around, you see Yukhei. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you standing there.

You know this is it. This is the moment. This is where you have to decide.

“I, I was just looking for you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Yukhei awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna go back in and—”

“No, wait, it’s okay,” you gently interrupt him. You reach out and slip your hand into his, and he relaxes, giving you a relieved smile. You smile softly back at your boyfriend before turning to face him, eyes apologetic.

“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”

He and you are asymptotes: two lines curving towards each other, but never touching; two hands reaching towards each other, but never interlocking; two people tangling their red strings of fate, but never tying.

You give him one last glance before going back inside with Yukhei.

You break his heart in August.

SEPTEMBER 2021.

September is supposed to be a new beginning: the transition from summer to autumn. Yangyang doesn’t think he can let go of you as easily as the trees shed their green for gold and red. Wherever he goes, wherever he looks, little reminders of you bloom in every crevice. You’re absolutely everywhere and nowhere, and it drives him crazy.

He thinks he’s gone completely insane when he hears your laugh while he’s walking to the laundromat one day. He shoves his airpods in and continues on his way until he sees you. Walking across the street, there you are. You’re on the phone with someone, and he contemplates going over to say hello. But suddenly, you’re hanging up the phone and waving eagerly at someone. When he turns his head to look, his heart drops and gets buried six feet under. He hurriedly ducks into a nearby bookstore and watches as you run up to Yukhei, slipping your hand into his like it’s second nature to you now. The two of you walk off together, and Yangyang is left standing at the window of the store until the shop owner politely asks if there’s anything he needs.

He doubts a time machine is something they have in stock, so he silently shakes his head and steps out onto the street once again. It is now silent and empty.

He loses you in September.

AUGUST 2022.

A lot can change in eleven months.

You’re twenty two years old, but you feel like you’re eighteen again. You know you’re going to see him for the first time since September at Kun’s housewarming. You had repeatedly assured Yukhei that you’d be fine. After all, life goes on; the world doesn’t stop just because you had a falling out with your best friend, even if it may have been a little more than that. Nevertheless, a year has nearly passed. Time is known to be the best healer, and perhaps your heart has shed its old skin and habits.

Your hand is safely enveloped in Yukhei’s, and the two of you walk towards your older friend’s new apartment. He playfully swings your interlocked hands back and forth, and you giggle, tightening your grip around his fingers. You stop in front of the door, the muffled sounds of a party slipping through the cracks. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensed. He’s in there.

“Are you okay?”

Yukhei squeezes your hand gently, voice laced with concern. You remember to breathe, exhaling slowly and relaxing before nodding. You smile up at him. “I’m okay.”

“If you want, we can go back home now, have another NCIS marathon, and drink this by ourselves.” Yukhei waves around the nice bottle of wine the two of you had brought for Kun. “We can even stop by the convenience store and get some ramen.”

You laugh quietly, the corners of your lips upturning with mirth. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Yukhei, I promise. Plus, I have you, right?”

He brightens up at that, practically beaming at you, and your heart skips a beat. “Right!”

You reach out and knock on the door. Kun greets the two of you, and you enter his apartment. Yukhei still doesn’t let go of your hand, and you follow behind him as you weave your way through the living room, greeting some of your friends. You hear Kunhang calling out to your boyfriend from the kitchen and feel him hesitate next to you. You squeeze his hand gently before letting go and nudging him in the direction of his friend. Yukhei gives you one last look, but you wave him off, smiling goodnaturedly and silently assuring that you’re okay. He swoops down and leaves behind a soft kiss for you before going.

You walk over to the alcohol table, pouring yourself something to drink. Leaning against the wall, you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting over the rim of your cup and slowly scanning the room. It feels like forever, like everything is moving in slow motion, like the world is submerged underwater, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.

You find him easily. After all, it’s hard to forget someone whose features you’ve memorized over the past four years. Your eyes map the delicate outline of his face once more, and for a moment, you wonder if red is still his favorite color, or who he shares a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with nowadays. You wonder if he thinks of you sometimes, too.

But then, you wonder where Yukhei is. You search around until you see your boyfriend still standing in the kitchen, laughing at something your mutual friend said. Your eyes soften when you see him grab your favorite snack. You turn back around, your heart swelling in your chest tenfold, and your lips curl upwards, an endeared expression on your face.

That’s when you notice that he’s looking at you.

You brace yourself, waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to wash over you and the quickening of your heart rate to greet you like an old friend. Because that’s what always happens when you’re around him. After all, he is the biggest what-if in your life. He is someone you almost loved forever, someone you almost stayed for.

And yet, nothing happens. You wait a little longer. The world still goes round, and you’re still breathing. There’s no shortness of breath, no erratic heart palpitations, no sweaty palms, absolutely nothing. Liu Yangyang is a stranger in a familiar body, and your heart remains still.

You give Yangyang a faint smile, nodding towards him, and it feels like a sudden jolt in his heart. Time stops, and all he can see is you. You look beautiful. You have always been beautiful. This is his chance. Whatever higher entity out there has taken pity on him and given him a second try to make it right. He finally takes a step towards you, and the tender, encouraging expression in your eyes gives him the strength to take another one. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Clutching his drink in hand, he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s only eight, seven, six, five steps away from you now. A smile grows on his face as relief curls around his heart like a bandage. You’re standing there, waiting for him, smiling at him.

And suddenly, you’re no longer looking at him.

You stopped looking at him.

Yukhei makes his presence known next to you, excitedly chattering about something and gesturing towards the kitchen as he hands you something to eat. It’s a snickerdoodle cookie. Your favorite. Your eyes are fixated on the tall boy, positively sparkling as you beam at him.

Yangyang feels like he can’t breathe. The bandage is ripped off, and all he can feel is excruciating pain like a thousand pinpricks into his heart before the numbness hits. He freezes, rooting himself in that spot on the scratched hardwood floor as his colleagues and friends continue to jostle around him. As his world crumbles around him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. They stay on you, the barest traces of nostalgia lingering in the dimmed golden flecks of his irises that you had still admired all those months ago. It’s like he’s trapped in a silent film, stuck in a fish bowl and swimming in circles, and he watches in horror as you outstretch your hand and intertwine your fingers around Yukhei’s, leaning up to press your lips against his tenderly. Your boyfriend looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself (He would believe it if you said you did).

You don’t look at him like that anymore.

Yangyang remembers when you used to. When you used to love him. When you were almost his. He feels something inside of him break for a second time.

The world continues to spin, and yet, he’s still not moving. He’s stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper as everyone around him moves on—as you move on. He desperately tries to keep you in his view, and his feet finally pick up as he lurches forward. He’s not fast enough. You’re slipping away, walking away from him, hand in hand with Yukhei, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, and he can’t do anything about it. It’s too late. He’s too late. The sticky remnants of cheap beer run down his wrist, and it finally registers in his mind that he had crushed the flimsy plastic cup in his hand sometime in between now and then. In a crowded room full of people, he’s left standing there, alone and lonely.

Almost is the worst way to love someone, Yangyang bitterly realizes. It hurts to lose someone you almost love. No, it was never an ‘almost’. He most certainly loved—loves—you. And it should be impossible to lose someone who was never his to begin with, yet he has. All this time, he thought he had you, but it had always been the other way around.

He was your August, he was your everything, and he is yours.

But you will never be his.

You let go of him in August.

[cloveroctobers]

ANNA-JULIA “AJ” (JONES) JARLETT

IG bio/info: @/annajj9x_ | 20.1k followers| Athlete | hey peeps can you stop asking me to throw it back cuz the answer will always be no! K thx take it easy 🏳️‍🌈🌻🏒🐶

21 years old

From bath, England

Hockey player as her profession for the past three years

Her position is defense

Their team name is “rowdy alphas”...yeah some team names just didn’t make sense or they’re cringe for no reason at all

Was raised by her mom,(her mom was a teen mom & had her at 17) maternal grandmother, and her paternal aunt (dad’s younger sister, who’s more like a big sister to her at 28)

They’ve made her into the person she is, literally

Her grandmother has a bed and breakfast that they all live in

the house is Victorian style—almost as if they walked right out of charmed! Instead of a big pink house, think yellow AND purple. It was hideous but homey and charming on the inside

growing up in a house with multiple temporary strangers wasn’t odd to aj at all, in fact it felt like the norm. There was always someone around to socialize with so that was quite nice

Her father was a pro baseball player & passed away due to a automobile accident

she has his smile & freckles

aj was also involved in the accident at the age of 6 & miraculously survived with intense injuries

Has scars as a reminder

used to have night terrors because of the accident...it took awhile—years!!! for them to subside

they’re all vague memories now (but the pain is something she’ll always remember) but she preferred it that way

she’s named “Anna” after her mother’s old best friend/roommate and was supposed to be aj’s god mother but she went missing during their uni years

the name“Julia” came from her paternal grandmother who she gets her wide doe eyes from

her athleticism definitely came from her dad

Her mother luckily liked to document things so there’s a bunch of home videos of her dad in them & pictures/scrapbooks that her mom has for safe keeping

She’s more of a klutz, tiny, and wears huge prescription glasses

extremely close to the three most important ladies in her life, so she’s always been able to be open with them about anything!

when she first expressed her interest in liking both genders around 17-18 her paternal aunt was all smirks, “i knew Britney Spears was so your type, yeah?”

more like shakira but Brit was just as pretty

her mother was a “cry baby” so ofc she burst out into tears squeezing aj’s limbs and peppering her face with kisses. She didn’t view her child as anything different... as she shouldn’t & was glad that her daughter trusted them with this significant moment in her life and wanted to be as supportive as she could

got books, watched Ted talks and everything but knew she could come to the source even tho aj was still figuring it out herself

her grandma dipped her head at the new info sitting at the round kitchen table, “been there. had a few broads in my life after and during my marriage with your no good grandad. Thank goodness the bastard died before you even got to meet ‘em.” “Mum!”

what felt like the biggest weight on her chest was lifted. She knew they’d understand but a part of her had a little bit of doubt, she’s heard so many horror stories where those like her didn’t have the support she has and that made her extremely sad to think about

i see her as a person that has/had many friends in secondary. She’s always open to chat and her being on a few sports teams helped her out in her case

very competitive in anything that she does & will guarantee that she’ll beat you. (“ You wanna race to the car from here?”wins. “Who ever cleans the most dishes the fastest gets the last slice of pie.”) majority of the time she’s right but if she loses?? oh don’t let her lose to you, it’s a pity party for the rest of the time ur in her space. Such a sore loser omg

stays active, always working out + has a gym membership and makes sure she goes at least five times a week

she’s very strong, loves leg day & working on her core

she’s about 5’10

loves wearing “gf jeans” since they’re super comfy but doesn’t mind skinny Jeans with rips in the knees every now and then

trainers and chucks are her go-to sneakers

has no issue shopping in the men’s section ‘cause who’s gonna stop her? Nobody that’s who

owner of over a 100 graphic tees + vertical stripped shirts are also her favs, SWEATPANTS/joggers?! How many does she have? A lot. Snapbacks? Plenty. Will she wear them backwards? Obviously.

Physical touch is her love language. She’s comes from a family that has no issue showing their affection by touch. There is NO such thing as personal space and that still stands with aj when it comes to relationships, she sees no other way

It’s what she shows and what she wants in return, if you’re not touching her in some sort of way, then automatically she thinks there’s something wrong or that she did something

Is the jealous type. It has shown in relationships and ruined a relationship or two

Has cheated on a significant other out of pure jealousy & is not proud to admit that

Does have a wandering eye but feels now that she truly understands herself when it comes to relationships, she’ll never act on it again

I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I get libra tendencies from her so that’s what I’m sticking with. She likes to keep the peace (unless she’s jealous) , idealistic — always looking on the bright side of things, outgoing, romantic, and professional— especially when it comes to her team; her true leadership comes out, yet she can be indecisive, hates confrontation, self pitying — if things don’t go perfectly how she imagined/planned it to, the world is ending and everyone is out to get her, and can be unreliable—never on time

September libra to be exact

if she’s really in love/taken a interest in you then she gets nervous: blushing, sweaty palms, cracking her knuckles, tongue tied—the whole 9

she’s already defined as a puppy by her coach but when she’s in love? She’s a lovesick puppy!

her fav holiday is Valentine’s Day

thought she was going to be a pro skateboarder growing up but it took one bad fall where she thought she was paralyzed for her to choose something else

she likes her weed on occasion

Obsessed with all types of cheese except cottage, “can I put cheese on this?”

more of a jumpsuit kinda girl or dressy top with jeans & hoops on a night out

has a solid group of mates outside of the hockey team, they’ve all met and hung out a couple of times, as they should since aj feels they’re going to be stuck with her for awhile so why not?

They’re a riot when they all go out, let’s just say that there’s never a dull moment

fav color is periwinkle

enjoys ASMR, mostly in the mornings when she’s waking up. You know how people love podcasts? (Sorry seb & Nicky, she still wants to be on the show soon!) ASMR is her thing

loves tangerines, you can count on it that she’ll have one on her, “where did you pull that from?” “I’ll never share my master plan.” “You’re such a tit.”

Definitely prefers “fresh squeezed” orange juice & will make her own, she has the tools & the strength 😏

Very rare for her to get sick ;) & if she does she’s a complete baby about it

Will fight that she’s sick before she admits it, trying all sorts of horrid remedies & vitamins

loves summer & all things that come with it, the number one thing is leaving bath for however long she can for a new place to enjoy

when she arrived to love island, she was thrilled for the weather. Yes she was looking for love but most importantly a nice get away & that it was (depending on your route that is lol)

closest with seb, vieve, elladine, and tai but don’t tell the others that! (She doesn’t care if you tell Yasmin, honestly)

just because her & seb “dated” and it didn’t work out doesn’t mean they can’t be friends right? It was almost automatic for them to be platonic after it was determined there would be no romance between them, almost like sibs! like those celebs like to say—except this time these two won’t turn around and actually find romance

vieve came with seb so...but no shade aj did like vieve. She gave great advice (while seb sometimes didn’t say the right things unintentionally or what aj needed to hear) when needed, especially from a medical view and is very sweet

elladine was the one who had all the tea & ideas to match, she’s quite organized and always down for DIY’s and could suggest almost anything. If you needed someone to help you get things tidy or match/find your Aesthetic, she’s the friend you call to help

tai was the one she could be a “bro” with, sure elladine has her competive side (or controlling, depends on how you view it) but tai was the one you can run to for much needed “bro hugs”, partying, going to the pubs, playing sports with or against, checking out/flirting with babes, etc...

it was not long after the villa that aj had a revelation with her sexuality & fully owned and labeled herself as a lesbian

She was happy being in relationship with someone else or with herself, life was short and she was young so there wasn’t time to dwell and stress over things so what the hell?! Live your truth the best way you know how ya know?

probably smells like sweet citrus, almond flower, and sea salt

on chest days, she’s a sweets snacker. Loves gummy bears (also with vodka) , swedish fish, sour patch kids, etc...basically shit that sticks to ur teeth

put all her chips into hockey, while it was advised by her Counselors & mum not to do so, aj went about it anyway. She thought about the pros and cons but knew there was nothing else for her. So there were more pros than cons. She was meant to play sports, its what felt right in her soul

Made her feel connected to her father, when she’s on the field she feels that he is with her

 scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated or confused about something

Doesn’t always grasp concepts right away, she’s a soft dummy but most of us are and that’s okay! We’re all smart in our own ways

Feels like sunflowers are always around her especially if she sees them wherever she is. They must symbolize SOMETHING, therefore she loves them

spf queen. All about it, get with it or let the sunrays ruin ur skin that’s on u

loves a good filet mignon medium-well & is probably the only good thing she knows how to make alongside a salad, baked potatoes, & her oj

sucker for romantic-comedies...it’s basically her life duh!

If she has a dog, it’s a Dalmatian or Great Dane. She needs a companion that’ll keep up with her

loves kissing, it’s her favorite form of intimacy

Quarantine life included the push up challenge for her. Gaining a few pounds in muscle and fat, bothering seb via ft, viewing old letters she wrote to her dad, spending time with her fav ladies since they were now restricted from having guests in their home, and letting boredom consume her + she hated the whole lockdown that came with it, she hated being indoors for long periods of time but she knew that’s what partly needed to be done

Posts a lot of beach, park, outings with her friends & team, moments with her fav ladies, workout videos, and guests at the b&b with their permission and if only she befriends them along the way. She’s just as active on the socials as she is in rl but she’s not obsessed with it, she knows how to live in the now. She’s all about balance!

I also feel like she never keeps her phone charged and it’s always dying on her! She had a car charger but...that’s a jungle. She needs to invest in a portable charger stat

crushing on/finds attractive: Jared Padalecki, Keanu Reeves, Barrett Doss, Camilla Luddington, Sandra Bullock, Adrian Kempe, Harry Kirton, Anya Taylor-Joy, Haley Lu Richardson, Naomi Osaka, Ming & Aoki Lee Simmons

who does she listen to? Shakira lol!! Bea Miller, Dua Lipa, Daya, XYLØ, Elley Duhé, Stela Cole, Aloe Blacc, Maroon 5, Lewis capaldi, Charlie Puth, girl in red, Hayley kiyoko, king princess, dodie, & tessa violet

Anthem: Icona Pop — we got the world

[crescentsteel]

Run

plot: Zombie run with Eita Semi genre: fluff, crack wc: 2k A/N: 

- Thanks again @newfriendjen​ and @kaitycole​ for the betaread and the encouragement to post this. Also to @hidden-otaku-stuff for big brain ideas. I luv yall so much u hav no idea

- We also have a spoofy halloween collab at @babythotshq​

The usual chilly Autumn breeze is not present tonight among the crowd you are standing with. The sun has already set hours ago and darkness has completely enveloped the usually deserted area. The only source of light in the place is that one large orange fluorescence which only covered a certain spot. Tall trees are looming over the few empty, abandoned houses with only a narrow concrete path that accommodated the amount of people here tonight. 

It was downright eerie, if not for the excitement buzzing in the air at the event that is about to take place. You’re so darn excited that your fingers are curling up. You clasp them together to contain the anticipation pumping in your whole body.

“Are you sure about this, y/n?”

Your gray-haired boyfriend wore a smile to hide his worry, but you see through it anyway. It doesn’t affect you though. The fact that he went with you to attend this event is enough to make you silly happy.

You cling to his arm cheerfully. “Of course! This is gonna be so fun. I can feel it already.” You go in front of him and embrace him, burying your face on his chest. You squeal giddily from the promise of the thrill you will experience with him tonight.

Semi looks at people around you with a mild pink tint on his face. Compared to you, he’s a bit more reserved in showing affection, especially publicly. But he doesn't have the heart to push you away while you happily embrace him. He puts his hands on your shoulders as his way of reciprocating. 

You look up to him with bright eyes beaming with zeal. It mellowed him up. He forgets about his surroundings and just admires how pretty you look like this. 

“Thanks for coming with me,” you say with the most adorable smile. He cups your cheek  and rubs it with his thumb.

“Just don’t hurt yourself later, okay?” 

A loud siren drowns out the murmuring of the crowd. It was disturbing to say the least. He looks around to see where it came from. He knows that aside from the people here, there’s literally no one else around. This place is as abandoned as it gets.

You pull away from him.

“It’s gonna start soon. Let’s go.” You drag him to the starting line where they’re giving out instructions. Present there are a few staff distributing your kits which consists of a flashlight, a belt with three red bands, and white paper that has (3) on it. Behind the saff is a black gate that’s closed shut. He attempts to look beyond it just to get a glimpse of what will take place, but he fails to see anything at a significant distance from the lack of light. 

Earlier, there was enough space for everybody. Now that everyone’s gathered and restless from the anticipation, it’s getting a bit too cramped for his taste. You aren’t fazed though. You looked more excited actually. 

“Have you done this before?” 

You frown at him. “Didn’t I tell you? I do this every year.”

That took him by surprise. For someone doing this annually, you’re way too pumped up.

“Why are you so excited then?”

“Cause you’re with me, of course.”

He can never understand how you say whatever’s in your head without any hesitation. Yet, he finds it so endearing because it’s something he’s unable to do. As much as he loves you, his thoughts just don’t come out as they are in his thoughts. It’s usually filtered out to reduce whatever lovey dovey cheesiness his words might have. Sometimes he feels bad about it because he can’t be as candid as you are. You never complained though.  

He clears his throat to rub off the fluster he’s holding in.

“So tell me if I got this right. These 3 red strips are our lives?” He softly tugs the bands hanging on your waist. They’re flimsy and he can tell that a soft pull can easily remove them.

“Mmhmm. Lose them all and you’re out.”

“And we can’t touch the ‘zombies’?”

“Yep.. We just outrun or avoid them.”

“For how long?”

Your eyes dart to the side then up, evidently thinking of the answer to his question. 

“Hmm, they won’t be onto us all the time. But the track is 6 kilometers long.”

6 kilometers? He didn’t think this whole thing would cover that much distance. Not that he can’t handle it. It should be nothing compared to Coach Washijo’s training. But you, he wasn’t aware that you can cover that gap. You’re not exactly the type to be into any strenuous physical activity. The only time is when …

“What’s wrong, Eita? Your face is flushed.”

When you put a hand on his neck to gauge his temperature, he grabs your wrist in a flash and puts it down. 

“It’s nothing. Don’t mind it.”

Your once exuberant demeanor dwindled down to a despondent one.

“Are you mad because I dragged you into this?”

Oh shit. He didn’t mean to sound harsh. He just didn’t want to let you know that his mind took a sudden lewd turn. 

“Heeey,” he says softly while squeezing your hands. “I swear it’s not that. There’s just a lot of people so it feels hot.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” the same anxious look still spread on your face. 

He pinches your cheeks upward to form a goofy smile on your troubled face. “Don’t worry about me, y/n. We’re going to outrun these zombies like shit, okay?” Your lovely smile comes back as you nod.

The same siren rings again, signalling the gates to open. The orange light powers down, which is replaced by flickering, dim lamp posts beyond the gate. It reveals a concrete path. It’s supposed to be the only path, but there were signs that say (1) (2) (3). (2) was the concrete path in the middle while the (1) and (3) led to the left and the right which are soiled grounds.

The number you drew from the staff was three so you went right. There were less people now since the crowd had been divided into three. He wasn’t expecting much, but he didn’t expect anything. There were no zombies, just the attendees that were grouped with you two. If it weren’t for the signs where to go, he’d have no idea how to proceed. 

There were no fixed lights, only the flashlights that were handed to everyone. Even with a group of people, footsteps and the rustling of the leaves were the only sounds he could hear. No one talked. Minutes of walking forward in silence went by and still, nothing. Yet, he’s getting creeped out. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s being watched. He let his eyes wander at the darkness lurking in the seams of the forest-like area. 

The fragile tension in the air broke when someone screamed. It came from behind. All those who were near you turned their heads back to see what it was, including him. But he doesn’t see the source of commotion when the people suddenly sprints to his direction. 

He knew that it was the zombies, but he just stood there because he wanted to see them in action. When they come into view, he regrets dawdling around. They aren’t like the zombies you’d see in theme parks for fun. If he didn’t know that this was just a halloween event, he’d be convinced that they’re real. To make it worse, they’re not the limping, sluggish zombies - they are out to get people.  

‘The fuck are they supposed to be - track runner zombies?’ he said in his head.

He was too absorbed in the scenery that he only snapped out of it when he heard snarling and huffing too close to him already. 

He pivots a complete 180-degree on his heels and dashes away. He might have reacted late but his athleticism will make up for it. He didn't look back and focused his energy on his legs. He thought that the zombies only came from behind. Apparently, they also came from the side of the pathway. Everything seems straight out of a horror movie. Shriek and snarls filled the forest air. It’s like Wrong Turn but with zombies. 

So what if it’s not real? It’s too creepy. No way he’s letting any of those zombies near him. 

He sees a sign that says ‘200 meters from the end’ when he feels something’s not right. Something’s missing. 

He forgot about you! Fuuuck. He stops dead on his tracks and looks around while panting. Maybe you’ve caught up to him. But he highly doubts it. He was running at full speed. And just like he thought, he couldn’t see you anywhere near him. He panicked when the zombies came that you completely slipped from his mind.

 ‘Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m an idiot.’ 

He lets out a grunt knowing that there’s no other choice but to go back and look for you. You might be a regular attendee, but that didn’t ensure your safety. 

Zombies were sparing him second glances because he’s the only one who’s heading back to where they came from. 

Going back meant facing the zombies head on while not getting caught. Running away was easy. Avoiding the zombies head on while looking for you simultaneously right after sprinting with all his might was not. He’s already tired.

With two zombies growling in front of him as they blocked his path, he just gave up. “I’m just looking for my girlfriend, okay? Can’t you just let me through?” He took his “lives” and dangled it in front of them. “You can have these. Have you seen someone wearing a pink sweater and gray pants?” The two zombies stood straight and looked at each other. 

“I think we passed by someone wearing pink.” Zombie A said. “Not really sure if that’s her though.” Zombie B added. He hands them his lives for the information they gave him. Now that he doesn’t have any, the zombies won’t bother chasing him anymore.

The two went on running after other attendees. After they got out of the way, he sees you right there jogging towards him. 

“Eitaaaa.” You half-shouted. When you reached each other, you slouched with your hands on your knees while panting.  “Why did you,” more panting, “leave me?”

“Uhh.” He scratched his head trying to find an excuse. “I thought you were with me the whole time.” He smiles apologetically at you. You stand straight and look at him with sulking eyes. “But you ran so fast! I thought we were gonna outrun them together.” You raised your voice at ‘together.’

“Well, we can outrun them now.” He says in an attempt to console you.

You pout as you softly speak, “I lost my lives already. I was distracted trying to find you.” He was going to apologize but a zombie suddenly appeared behind you without you noticing. He grabs you to his side. “Dude. We don’t have lives anymore.”

The zombie looks at both your empty waistbands then runs away.

“Wait. How come you don’t have any left? You were so fast.” 

He felt bad about lying previously so he admits what really happened. He was expecting you to sulk even more but you put your arms around him and smirk. “Hehe. Did you really get that scared?” 

He pats your head lovingly and indulges your amusement of having him spooked. “Yes, I did. Let’s try again next year?” Your eyes become wide as saucers before they sparkle with excitement. “You want to do it again?!”

He smiles.“Yeah, why not?” He has to admit that the run got him going. Looking back at what happened, it was actually thrilling. If only he didn’t ‘accidentally’ lose you, he ‘s confident that you two could have finished the whole marathon. 

“Yes!!” You pressed yourself to him and held on to him completely. Everyone seems to be busy in the chase anyways so he envelops his arms around your waist and returns the hug this time. Two seconds passed and he realized how ludicrous you two looked, snuggling in the middle a marathon with zombies. 

As of reading his mind, you pull away first and meet his gaze with your distinct warm smile. “Let’s go home?” 

He grabs your hand and holds it. “Yeah.”

Amidst the zombies and people running around in the moonlit forest, you two walk to the end of the pathway with your fingers intertwined. 

[astrochiron]

The Signs :: Channel Orange // Frank Ocean

Aries- Sweet Life

“You've had a landscaper and a house keeper since you were born The starshine always kept you warm”

This line refers to an easy life, one of luxury and means. What’s more, this person has had these things since birth, not even earning these things themselves. An Aries rising chart is called natural, as their houses are led by their associated signs, their life tends flows easily and this person has had a similar life.

“So why see the world, when you got the beach? Don't know why see the world, when you got the beach”

Aries is the sign of self and your own experiences that you don't have to reach out for. This person has trouble seeing outside of their world and, in fact, refuses to branch out. They have the “beach” in their own mind allowing them to ignore the things going on around them.

Overall

This song is a challenge to look outside of oneself and your own comforts to empathize and experience the ways of others. Frank wants her to step outside of her privilege and her pretty surroundings to maybe experience something else, something less curated for them. The lyrics imply a sense of immaturity exhibited by the subject, not fueled by the search of fun but by circumstance.

Taurus- Pink Matter

“That soft pink matter Cotton candy, Majin Buu, oh, oh, ohh Close my eyes and fall into you, you, you My God, she's giving me pleasure” close my eyes and fall into you” 

This line provides sensory imagery of softness and pleasure, two things Taurus is associated with. Cotton candy and Majin Buu (a DBZ character) conjuring up safe and comfortable imagery of childhood and happiness. Frank’s moved on to another source of pleasure though, as this line alludes to sex and the pleasure of it. Taurus is associated with the physical pleasure of sex.

“Pleasure over matter” 

Both pleasure and physical mater are associated with Taurus. Taurus is an Earth sign, associated with physical matters like money, possessions, and even your relationship with your physical body. Pleasure is the ultimate goal and that is bolstered by the maintenance of physical means.

Overall

This song’s focus on the body, especially the feminine one, links it to the feminine sign of Taurus. While Virgo is linked with physical health and routine, Taurus shows how we view and worship the body. This song also focuses on desire, another Taurean trope.

Gemini- Thinkin’ Bout You

“A tornado flew around my room before you came Excuse the mess it made, it usually doesn't rain in”

The chaos and air-related tornado is a perfect symbol for Gemini, a restless and powerful force made of fluent thought and free-ranging speech (Air related things). Frank is also lying to this guy, saying his room is messy because of a tornado. I’m not implying Gemini’s lie, but they certainly have fun with the truth more than most signs.

“Since you think I don't love you, I just thought you were cute That's why I kissed you”

This song displays the inquisitive and impulsive nature of Gemini. Frank kissed the guy because he thought he was cute, plain and simple, almost like school kids on the playground. This also displays the dismissal of romantic disinterest (common in the manner of most air signs) for inquisitiveness.

Overall

The title literally has “thinking” in it, which is Gemini’s superpower as the mutable air sign. The whole song is something of a train of thought ramble that Frank is well known for, honestly. The whole song has a childhood vibe, even supported by Frank saying this is about a time when he was 17 or so. Gemini is linked with our formative years and though, 17 is a bit old for Gemini’s range, it’s still cerebrally nostalgic and witty.

Cancer- Forest Gump

“Forrest Gump You run my mind, boy Running on my mind, boy Forrest Gump”

Cancers have a tendency to linger on thoughts, especially the emotional nature of them. I don't think Cancers are crybabies (I'd give that more to Pisces who cry from happiness, frustration and sadness all in the same hour), but they are very emotionally strong and emotionally stubborn. Their emotions are forefront in memory and so is the way Forest made Frank feel.

“Forrest green, Forrest blues I'm remembering you If this is love, I know it's true I won't forget you”

The “Forest blues” points toward Frank being in feelings over a past situation. Whether over something that happened when they were together or over the break-up itself, Frank is sad and a cancer will never forget how someone made them feel.

Overall

This song has a focus on past feelings for someone, not specific memories. Cancers are very subjective and, instead of remembering facts about a memory, they'd be remembering how they were feeling during the time. As a bonus, the song is  named after an older movie which was itself based in nostalgia.

Leo- Super Rich Kids

“Real love, I'm searching for a real love”

Leos are associated with romance and unconditional love. Their search for joy and the uninhibited feeling of childhood makes them crave and seek true love, sometimes at the detriment of their well being, but aways for the better in the end. No matter how unhealthy, these two searching for genuine love from one another, though finding temporary joy in drugs.

“Caddy-smashing, bratty ass He mad, he snatched his daddy's Jag And used that shit for batting practice”

Earl’s whole rap discusses the more self-destructive traits of Leo. This line in particular shows the sometimes self-centered nature, expressing their anger by inflicting pain on others. Leos are very expressive and, despite their genial nature, are still passionate fire signs. This also a very childish expression of emotion, and our inner-child is linked with this sign.

Overall

Immaturity is often a negative trait associated with fire signs. Leo’s exhibit this immaturity when they may make bad decisions trying to seek love and acceptance, as well as looking for fun and enjoyment in the wrong places. And while not outright said, the subjects of this song seem to blessed (or cursed) with the fame and fortune associated with Leo.

Virgo- Lost

“And I just wanna know Why you ain't been going to work Boss ain't working you like this He can't take care of you like this”

This line display’s Virgo’s focus on work and duty. It also exhibits their often gently direct nature. This is very much a line a Virgo would say to their out-of-work partner, “This place is a mess! And I just wanna know; why you ain’t been going to work?” Virgos also take great care of their partner, even to the extent of being servile at times. He’s taking care of her and giving her a job.

“Hand me my triple weight So I can weigh the work I got on your girl”

Frank’s weighing out his product, showing the minutiae of his drug life. The song could focus on all the stuff he could buy for her, selling all these drugs, or even getting high on them himself, but instead he discusses weighing it up and strapping it to her. Frank employs this girl as a drug mule, being her boss and her lover; providing her employment and care (6th house).

Overall

Frank shows Virgo’s tendency to get caught up in work and the money coming in as opposed to the things that can be done with the money. Frank is always selling to give himself and the girl a better life, every drug run aways being the last one, but never really being the last one. The woman shows Virgo’s dedication to their partner, disregarding their own safety or comfort for their love.

Libra- Pilot Jones

“You're the dealer and the stoner With the sweetest kiss I've ever known”

This line represents the dichotomy of the user and the supplier. She’s both the source of his addiction and she enjoys the outcome of the addiction herself. This shows’s Libras’s tendency to be all things to all people. The last part also points toward Libra’s geniality and tendency to cover up ills and pains with kisses and sweet words.

“But if I got a condo on a cloud Then I guess you can stay at my place”

Despite all the bad decisions and toxicity, Frank is sayin that if he’s in a good place, she will be too. If he gets a raise, she benefits; if he buys a cheesecake, she gets a slice, if not half. When Libra’s are happiest, they want their partner there too, even if their partner was the reason for their unhappiness sometimes.

Overall

This song equates drugs with love, a metaphor I'd definitely associate with Libra. They don't need to be in a relationship, don't get me wrong; but it feels good. Librans lacking in self-expression or happiness or even stimulation, may turn to relationships just out of habit, even if they’re not with a “good” partner or one that is ultimately good for them. Frank is laid back in this song, allowing her to guide his high and really the whole relationship, taking Libra’s laid back and often lax attitude.

Scorpio- Sierra Leone

Spendin' too much time alone (And I just ran outta Trojans) Horses gallop to her throne

We all know about Scorpio’s focus on sex and the intimate connection formed behind it. This includes the first part of this line, as Scorpios tend to have intense relationships, often most intense in solitude with partner. This obviously doesn't involve only sex, but the intimate moments shared between two lovers when by themselves. 

“And a new day will bring about the dawn And a new day will bring another crying babe into the world”

Scorpio is linked with self-transformation, and the imagery of the new day bringing the dawn paints the picture of the whole world being renewed, as well as specifically the characters of this song and their evolutions. The last part of this line points to the birth of the characters’ child. The ultimate rebirth and the ultimate result of Scorpio’s sex and alone time, is a birth itself.

Overall

This song discusses an alternate Frank that got a girl pregnant young. It focuses on how different he’d be and how his life would be. This hypothetical thought experiment is very a very Scorpio thing to me, analyzing “what ifs” and “might be’s”. This song also focuses on the transformation of the characters, especially Frank, from stupid teenaged lovers to responsible parents by the end.

Sagittarius- Monks

“Mosh pits and bare chest Stage diving sky diver Spray the crowd with cold water Now it's mosh pits and wet tits I think I need a cold shower”

This whole verse gives Sagittarian vibes. Sag is ruled by jovial and beneficially social Jupiter. Each line exudes freedom, fun and physical exploration. The parties, lewd behavior, and stimulating music would all be perfect for Sags huge energy and need for experiences.

“African girl speaks in English accent Likes to fuck boys in bands Likes to watch Westerns And ride me without the hands”

This song represents the foreign interests of Sagtttarius. They love accents and different cultures and foreign people (romantically as well as platonically). There’s actually a hodgepodge of cultures represented with the African girl and her English accent with an interest in rock or grunge bands who watches American western movies and an... expansive physical repertoire. 

Overall

This song chronicles a meeting with a groupie, which gives to Sag’s rockstar vibe. Traveling countries, writing songs, and positively affecting masses are all things that Sagittarius is interested in. The groupies, they also probably wouldn't mind. As for the title, a monk, as defined by Oxford is “a member of a religious community of men typically living under vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.” While the latter art of this definition sounds more like a Capricorn, evolved Sag’s are very monk-like once they’ve found their cause and their moral path.

Capricorn- Pyramids

“We'll run to the future, shining like diamonds In a rocky world, rocky-rocky world Our skin like bronze and our hair like cashmere As we march to the rhythm on the palace floor”

This line represents Capricorns focus on the future. Frank aims to be decked in gems, sun kissed and confidently walking even in a rocky world. Like Capricorn, he aims to dominate his environment and get the best out of it to his own benefit. He’s focused on improving themself and being presented as prestigious and as a king.

“The way you say my name makes me feel like I'm that nigga but I'm still unemployed You say it's big but you take it, ride cowgirl”

Capricorn’s get off on respect. Capricorn is one of those signs that has a link to sex, but primarily because of the power of it. She says his name like he’s the best, she compliment’s his assets, even if they’re still not too big for her. Even though he’s unemployed, he's still the head of household while they’re having sex. This points toward Capricorn’s sense of joy coming from others’ good perceptions of them, even if it’s not the right one. He’s broke, he may not have the biggest penis, and he may not even be the only one, but she makes him feel like all of those things aren't true.

Overall

Though metaphorical, this song focuses on history and royalty. Cleopatra may have been a Capricorn by some calculations and her outright rule of an empire as woman would support that. She was intelligent and business-minded and well-known. This song also shows a shift in status typically associated with Saturn and Capricorn. Though Saturn typically brings slow-but-sure progression, if the lessons it presents us aren't learned from and taken into account, it can take us down as high as it would drive us up. The character in this song goes from queen Cleopatra to Cleopatra working weekends at the Pyramid. Both demand attention, beseech respect, and accumulate wealth, though society sees them so differently.

Aquarius- Bad Religion

“And you say "Allahu akbar" I told him, "Don't curse me" "Bo Bo, you need prayer" I guess it couldn't hurt me “If it brings me to my knees, it's a bad religion, ooh’

The “bad religion” here shows the Aquarian distrust of religion. The driver tries to bless him, but he isn't interested in spiritual intervention, even though he did mention demons earlier in the song. Aquarians aren’t necessarily interested in or focused on religion because of the typical outright devotion involved in it. It’s a turn off for Aquarians and Frank is associating this with the unrequited love he's experiences with his crush.

‘This unrequited love To me, it's nothin' but a one-man cult”

I have a long analysis behind this next statement that I’m willing to back up one day but: Aquarians are attracted to odd social constructs especially things like cults. Every Aquarian I know has expressed interest in cults, dictatorships, or supreme leadership in the New World Order. That being oddly said, this line points toward Frank seeing himself as a worshiper in one of those cults and he wants the hell out. 

Overall

In this song we see how Frank made his love for this person his God and having it unrequited either caused or further proved his own negative feelings toward the whole idea of devotion and love. Aquarians also aren’t known for expressing their feelings in a conventional sense. Instead of going to a therapist and having to discuss feeling or going to a confidant and having to burden a friend or expose yourself to them, Frank chose to make his taxi driver his shrink, since he’s paying him anyway.

Pisces- Crack Rock

“You don't know how little you matter until you're all alone In the middle of Arkansas with a little rock left in that glass dick”

I’ve noticed that Pisceans have a bit of an inferiority-complex. This is typically portrayed a martyrdom but can even be expressed as. complete feeling of inadequacy and ineffectuality. This is due to their more tendency to outwardly exude peace even if they are in distress. This line also explicitly mentions crack, an extremely addictive substance. Pisces does have a link to addictions, though crack is bit extreme. We could replace crack with any momentarily-good but terminally-bad thing like constant sex, alcohol, less deleterious drugs, or even sleep and food. 

“Don't no one hear a sound Don't no one disturb the peace for riot Don't no one disrupt nirvana Don't no one wanna blow the high”

This line points out how Pisces tends to zone out and escape, especially when the world is a bit too much. Sleep is a common one, as Pisceans tend to have amazing dreams that likely beat a shitty or stressful life/situation. Nirvana, the ultimate escape, is associated with Pisces. They’re constantly trying (whether purposefully or subconsciously) to connect with the Great Other or the Universe or God. Anything blowing their high or disturbing their nirvana is cut off.

Overall

Frank said that he sung this song so it would sound like a smoker singing it. He wanted the fractured breath to show a long past and pain, as well as the self-abuse often an unintentional result of substance abuse. “Crack Rock” could also speak of a physical crack in a rock, separating from himself from the ones he loves due to the addiction. Isolation is common theme for Pisces.

check your moon sign (for the song that makes you comfortable and puts you in your emotions), sun sign (the song that makes you happy and the one you ride around to) and venus sign (the one that speaks to your inner artist).

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 28 | Chapter 30 | AO3 link

“– rinette! Marinette!”

“Hmm?” Marinette is forcibly yanked out of her thoughts by Alya’s snapping fingers in front of her face.

“Finally!” Alya says. “You didn’t hear a word of my rant about Mr Alternative News blogger. Man, wherever you were just now, you gotta take me there too.”

“I wasn’t anywhere. I was just…thinking.” About her date with Chat Noir. But Alya doesn’t need to know that.

“Mhm. If you say so.”

“It looked like you were halfway across the solar system!” Lila says. Why she’s here, Marinette has no clue, but either Rose or Juleka or Alix or Mylène had invited her along to their Saturday hangout at the Louvre, and it’s not like Marinette and Alya can refuse to include her without getting labelled raging bitches.

“I really am fine,” Marinette says. “I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Like your crush on Chat Noir,” Alix teases. Marinette’s cheeks start to boil.

“What? No!” Had someone seen them on their date? No, of course not, the girls already know she’s crushing on Chat Noir.

“That’s so cute!” Rose says.

“If you two get together, tell me!” Mylène says with a mischievous smile. “I want to be sure I win a bet against Ivan, since our Adrienette one was a bust.”

“Mylène! You cheater!” Juleka says. Mylène’s cheeks pinken.

“What?” she says. “I just…have inside information.”

“I hate you all,” Marinette mutters. “And even if I did get together with him – which is not happening –” Lies, but necessary. “– why would I tell anyone? He’s a superhero. I’m a civilian. Hawkmoth would love that.”

“True, true.” Alya raises her hand, like she’s going to clutch at her chest, but then aborts that movement and lowers her hand. Marinette resists the urge to smirk, since she’s not supposed to know that Alya is Rena Rouge and wearing the Miraculous under her shirt.

“You and Chat Noir would make the cutest couple!” Lila coos. “It sucks that I wasn’t here for the Adrienette hype!”

“Does everyone call us that?” Marinette throws her hands in the air. “What are we, fictional characters?”

Before anyone can reply, Rose and Juleka scream. The reason for this becomes apparent when they try to jump away from each other but can’t due to literally being attached at the hip, with Rose’s pink dress melting into Juleka’s black one.

“What the –?” Marinette leaps away from them, immediately scanning her surroundings for any sign of the perpetrator. “Akuma!”

“Where?” Lila immediately leaps behind Alya.

“Alya Césaire!” An orange blur soars off a building and lands in front of Alya. “You think the Ladyblogger can compete with Faux News?”

“Faux – wait, Lars?” Alya’s eyes bulge. “Lars Vos? The Alternative News dipshit?”

The orange man – Faux News – snarls at Alya. He’s…a fox. Or, to be more accurate, a guy in a fox costume, just like Rena Rouge. Unlike Rena Rouge, however, his orange suit is skin-tight, with a white torso and white down his inner upper arms and thighs. He also has short, chunky black gloves and boots, an orange and white bushy tail that looks like it sprouts out of the back of his suit, thick black rings around his grey eyes, and short fox ears poking out of his pale blond hair. Also unlike a Fox superhero is the lack of flute on his back and, instead of a Miraculous around his neck, there’s a little black cravat like a high collar. It’s like someone had tried to create a Fox wielder but left out just enough that it feels…wrong.

“You think you’re the best just because your little blog’s so popular?” Faux News growls.

“Uh, no,” Alya says. “I think I’m the best because unlike you, I actually get my own footage. I don’t jack it from someone else and then whine that it’s shitty quality.”

“At least I don’t harass people for the fun of it!” Faux News says.

“Harass you? How? All I did was leave a comment asking you to shut the fuck up and stop taking jabs at me for actually doing my job! And at least I post the truth!”

“What the heck did you do to Rose and Juleka?” Marinette demands. Oh, how she wishes she could get away to transform, but she’s right next to Alya and Faux News will most definitely notice her trying to slip away.

“I guess they’re just such good soulmates that they’re joined at the hip,” Faux News shrugs.

“You’re twisting reality!” Lila gasps. “Faux News! Alternative News!”

Faux News’ grin is more like a shark’s than a fox’s. “Exactly. Whatever I say is true! And I think that little girls such as yourself should be seen and not heard.”

Lila opens her mouth to say something else…but no sound escapes her. Her eyes widen and she once again tries to speak but again, she can’t. While Faux News is distracted by Lila’s predicament, Marinette grabs Alya by the hand and hightails it the hell out of there before he can remember that they exist.

“Marinette!” Alya tries to yank herself free. “You can’t – I need to –”

“Césaire!” Faux News bellows. Marinette ducks into the first store she encounters.

“Go and hide!” she hisses to Alya. “I’ll go and see if I can find Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

“But what if he gets you?” Alya says, grabbing her upper arms.

“It’s not me he’s after,” Marinette says. “I’ll be fine! Just go and hide!”

Alya bites her lip and her eyes flick down to her own chest for a split second. Then she nods and pushes Marinette away before weaving through the racks of clothes in the direction of the changing rooms. Reassured that her best friend is now able to transform and is therefore safe from Faux News’ hunt for Alya Césaire, Marinette barrels out of the store and down an alleyway to transform.

“Tikki, spots on!”

.

“Chat Noir! Down here!”

At the sound of his name, Chat Noir automatically leaps off the rooftop to the street below. Ladybug’s waving at him from inside a store, and he takes a quick look around before sprinting inside.

“What the hell kind of an akuma is this?” Chat Noir says as Ladybug shuts the door behind him and beckons him further into the store, away from the windows. “Some guy was barking up a tree! Literally! And a woman tried to talk my ear off about how climate change wasn’t real!”

Ladybug snorts. “His name’s Faux News and he can warp reality. He attached R – uh, two girls at the hip because they were “soulmates” and he took another’s voice because “little girls should be seen and not heard”.”

Chat Noir wrinkles his nose. Ick. One of those people.

“It’s my fault.” Rena Rouge emerges from one of the changing rooms. “He’s this Alternative News blogger who I told off for not telling the truth.”

“And for taking cheap shots at you,” Ladybug says.

“Yeah but –”

“Hey. We talked about this when I found you in here, remember? You’re not responsible for his akumatisation. Hawkmoth is. And if he hadn’t been targeting you and your blog, you wouldn’t have attacked him.”

“I still might have,” Rena Rouge says. “If he reckons he’s a “real journalist”, he can’t go around telling lies. I mean, saying that you hate cats? All we need is for one person to grab that lie and blow it up, especially because he had no sources!”

“I don’t think that’s the point right now,” Chat Noir says. “How powerful is Faux News? Can he just take our Miraculouses with his powers by making it the truth?”

Ladybug purses her lips. “I’m not sure. And I’m kind of hesitant about finding out. But we can’t just sit in here forever.”

“He might not be able to just will them to him like that,” Rena Rouge says. “Otherwise, Hawkmoth would’ve made an akuma like that ages ago. Every akuma you’ve faced with control over something has had to brainwash you, but they still didn’t figure out who you were or get you to reveal yourselves. Like Dark Cupid, remember? He totally could’ve made Chat Noir take the ring off. But he didn’t.”

“Hmm,” Ladybug says. “You know…I think you’re on to something. Wait here.” She ducks into the changing room and there’s a bright flash of pink light as she detransforms. Chat Noir and Rena Rouge exchange awkward grins as Ladybug talks to her kwami in a hushed voice, both very much aware that all they’d have to do is slam the door open to see who’s behind the red and black spotted mask, and then Ladybug’s once again transformed and is pulling the stall door open.

“Tikki says that part of the Miraculous magic means that we can’t compel each other to give them up,” Ladybug says. “If we get immobilised or brainwashed into standing still or whatever and they physically take them off us, sure. But an akuma can’t force us to take them off ourselves or to reveal our identities if we’re transformed. The only one of us who could directly affect a Miraculous is Chat Noir with his Cataclysm, but then it’d take my Miraculous Ladybug to fix it. And Tikki says that the Butterfly can akumatise a Miraculous, but it still can’t make that person reveal themselves unless they want to. Hawkmoth’s kwami must have told him all this because Rena Rouge is right: he would’ve made an akuma like this one ages ago if that worked.”

“That also means that you can’t just Lucky Charm Hawkmoth’s Miraculous straight off him,” Rena Rouge says. “Aww, man. But that’s a relief, knowing that Faux News can’t make us give our Miraculouses to him.”

“And we also can’t be exposed through, say, mind-reading akumas,” Ladybug says. “Although there’s nothing stopping a brainwashing akuma from forcing us to physically out ourselves by, you know, outright saying who everyone else is or ordering all Miraculous holders to come to them, which is why I’m so insistent that Chat Noir and I don’t reveal our identities. It would be bad if Hawkmoth learned who Rena Rouge was, yeah, but figuring out me or Chat Noir would be a disaster.”

“My life would be over if Hawkmoth knew who I was.” Chat Noir closes his fingers around his ring, as though this is enough to shield it from Hawkmoth’s greed. “Now that I’ve had this taste of freedom…”

“Well, Hawkmoth won’t figure out who any of us are,” Ladybug says firmly. She rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and soft warmth seems to radiate from her hand through Chat Noir’s suit. “Anyway, come on. We have to stop Faux News!”

To find Faux News, all they have to do is follow the trail of sheer chaos throughout the city, from a group of floating men shouting about defying the laws of gravity, to a child who’s screaming and running away from a life-size, nightmarish teddy bear.

“This is sick,” Ladybug growls once Chat Noir’s torn the bear apart with his claws and Rena Rouge is comforting the little girl. “He can make anything a reality and he does that?”

“I told you he was an arse,” Rena Rouge says. She pats the girl on the head and directs her to hide in the nearest building, then turns to Ladybug and Chat Noir with her arms crossed. “I just didn’t know he was this much of one.”

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! Over here!”

Chat Noir whirls around, raising his staff. The speaker is a middle-aged man who’s got his phone trained on them and a wicked gleam in his eye.

“That’s it!” the man says. “Only the best footage for Faux News!”

“Uh, excuse me?” Rena Rouge says. “Faux – uh, Alternative News is shit. Everyone knows the Ladyblog –”

“Ladyblog? What’s the Ladyblog?” the man says. Rena Rouge’s eyes widen.

“No,” she breathes. She yanks her flute off her back and swipes to extend a little screen out of the end, just like with Chat Noir’s baton. “Are you fucking kidding me? That son of a bitch – all that work –”

“What happened?” Ladybug says. A fuming Rena Rouge thrusts her flute out at them to show her search results for the Ladyblog…which is nothing. Well, there’s technically one result, but when Chat Noir taps it, it brings up an extremely poor-quality webpage with one pixelated, clearly amateur video. In contrast, when Rena Rouge takes her flute back to search for Faux News and shows Ladybug and Chat Noir again, they’re taken to a crisp, professional webpage with scores of posts and videos and comments.

“That – he stole my work!” Rena Rouge’s eyes fill with tears. Thankfully, the man nearby doesn’t hear, or it would be bye-bye Rena Rouge and her secret identity. “All that effort – I’ve put so much work in – and he just – he just spoke a few fancy words and now I’m the amateur knock-off! He even stole my superhero look!”

“Hey.” Ladybug grabs Rena Rouge by the biceps and squeezes gently. “We’ll take care of it, okay? We’ll defeat Faux News and the Ladyblog will go back to normal.”

“What milady said,” Chat Noir agrees. “Like we’re gonna let some ugly Rena knock-off win. Hawkmoth deserves our Miraculouses if we lose to this guy.”

Rena Rouge snorts and wipes her eyes, even though her mask conceals any traces of tears. “Thanks, guys. I just…god, I can’t stand people who steal others’ work.”

“You hear that?” Chat Noir calls at the recording man. “Faux News is going down like the fake he is!”

The man’s jovial smile darkens into a horrific scowl. Before any of them can react, he’s scurrying off down the street and around the corner.

“Well,” Ladybug says. “I can’t say that was the smartest move, but at least now we can find Faux News, assuming that guy’s gone to tattle. Let’s go!”

Faux News does turn out to be in the next street over, with the tattletale man next to him and at least a hundred other people who don’t seem to be affected just yet. Of course, ‘don’t seem to be’ isn’t the same as ‘aren’t’, as they demonstrate moments later by turning around and staring straight at the superheroes like one many-headed, many-limbed being.

“Don’t worry!” Chat Noir puffs himself up. Time to show Faux News who’s boss! “We’ll save you –”

“It’s them! The criminals!” A woman points at Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Rena Rouge. “They’re trying to destroy the mighty Faux News and Hawkmoth!”

“Ah,” Rena Rouge says. “When we figured out that he could bend reality, we should have suspected he’d do this.”

“Go and spread the word, my loyal fans!” Faux News announces, and half of the crowd around him starts to scatter in all directions. “I bestow the gift of gospel upon you all!”

“Gospel?” Chat Noir scoffs. “This guy’s pretty up himself.”

“Uh, yeah,” Rena Rouge says. “It’s not like I just told you that before.”

Ladybug frowns. “He’s making them go and twist reality to make others believe that we’re the bad guys? Does that mean that he can only directly affect his surroundings, and he has to imbue his minions with the power to twist the truth for others?”

“What about the Ladyblog thing, then?” Rena Rouge says.

“With a phone or something connected to the internet, it’d technically be in his surroundings,” Ladybug says slowly. “We have to keep him occupied to limit the damage!”

“That’s something we can definitely do, milady,” Chat Noir grins, then hefts his baton and shakes it to its full length. “Hey, Rena, wanna legally beat the shit out of this guy and not get in any trouble for it?”

“Chat!” Ladybug protests, but even she doesn’t say anything when Rena Rouge’s eyes start to gleam rather terrifyingly.

“For truth and justice!” Rena Rouge bellows and charges at Faux News, flute ready to strike. She’s met with a wall of brainwashed bystanders forming a shield around Faux News, but this doesn’t curb her enthusiasm one bit.

“Hey, that should be our catchphrase!” Chat Noir says. Ladybug rolls her eyes while simultaneously taking out two minions at once with a flick of her yo-yo.

“We are not having a catchphrase, you silly cat!” she says.

“Aww but why not?” Chat Noir throws his staff at a minion creeping up on Ladybug, then deftly dodges one behind him, kicks her to the ground by her back, and rolls under another minion’s outstretched arms to retrieve his weapon.

“There’s too many of them!” Ladybug says. “And Rena’s too angry to focus on a proper Mirage!”

“You no-good fake!” Rena Rouge shrieks in the background, inadvertently confirming Ladybug’s assessment. “Stop hiding behind your little fans and face me like a proper fox!”

“Rena, take a chill pill!” Chat Noir calls. Naturally, he’s ignored. “Okay, uh, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to let her take this one?”

“We should’ve made her sit it out,” Ladybug agrees while elbowing a young man in the solar plexus and dropping him like a sack of bricks. “Too personal. I think I’ll have to…Lucky Charm!” A little red and black candle falls into her hands.

“We’re gonna throw him a party?” Chat Noir says as he ducks to let two minions slam into each other in their haste to grab him.

“No…I can’t see what to use it for…” Ladybug frowns and turns on the spot, while Chat Noir covers her from the advancing minions and Rena Rouge continues to wreak havoc in her attempt to get to Faux News.

“Maybe you can smoke signal for help,” Chat Noir jokes. Ladybug’s eyes widen.

“Of course! I mean, it’s not ideal…I’d prefer not to throw them into a battle with no training…but we need a shield!”

“Rock, paper, scissors to see who goes?” Chat Noir says. Ladybug shakes her head.

“Not necessary. I trust you to pick the right ally. I need to stay here and keep Faux News from getting away and turning all of Paris against us…and keep an eye on Rena Rouge. It wouldn’t be a problem if she wasn’t so angry at this guy.”

Chat Noir winces when Rena Rouge bashes someone across the head with her flute. “Totally with you there, milady. I’ll be back. Try not to miss me too much!”

“Finally, a break from you!” Ladybug calls at him as he bounds away. He flips her off over his shoulder with a cheerful little smirk, then leaps up to a rooftop and turns his sights in the direction of Master Fu’s place.

[eabhaalynn]

Let the Music Play: A Love-Letter to Our Live Venues.

My concert-going career started at a very young age. Barely out of nappies, I went to see the ‘tweenies’ live with my auntie in 2004. The Odyssey Arena, Belfast, now known as the SSE Arena, is Northern Ireland’s biggest indoor arena, and while it is dwarfed by the stadiums and concert venues of the Irish capital and Manchester city, the imposing presence of the arena has captivated me for about as long as I can remember.

The Odyssey complex is as old as I am, its doors opened in the year I was born and so, at the time, everyone was as enthralled with the venue as I was.

The most recent concert I went to at the SSE was twenty-one pilots in March 2019. There is something really endearing about the combined nostalgia of a twenty-one pilots gig itself, and a venue with fifteen years’ worth of live-music memories housed in its elliptical, grey walls.

The SSE arena embodies my generation of Northern Irish kids; we have this big central concert venue, one that our parents could only have dreamed of. Its evolved into a bustling hotspot of tourism, nestled in tidily between the main motorway to East Belfast and the now notorious Titanic Quarter. The word ‘anticipation’ has become almost synonymous with the landscaped gardens, taxi ranks and brightly orange-cladded walls of the arena. From standing in the snow eagerly waiting for a wave from Shakira in December 2009, to queuing in the rain for an allocated seat out of the sheer anticipation of seeing then-heartthrob Matty Healy in January 2019, the artists change, the company changes, but the venues stay static.

Walking into the colossal atrium of the SSE arena, the dopamine rush of the distinctive sound of a ticket scanner, the frustration of the crush on the stairs, or the hilariously slow walker in front of you, the relief and disbelief of being swept away from an old friend by the tsunami of people pouring into the venue, and later washing back out of it. The expected responses to big world events, the additional security of Summer 2017 after the tragic events in Manchester, both outside and inside the same venues.

The feeling of utter tininess when you step through the tunnel into the arena. The power of the crowd, all there for the same reasons, all having a brilliant time. The knowledge that so many of your friends are experiencing the same event you are, that same knowledge, that’s somehow even more captivating in retrospect.

And that is just one venue.

I grew up in a ‘musical household’ and all that really means is that my dad plays the guitar, my mum always has the radio on in the house, and it’s been this way for about as long as I can remember.

Consequently, then, my childhood summers were framed by a local music festival, happens the first week in August in our village. It is, as they say, the craic. It introduced me to gig culture, a culture that has adopted me as I’ve aged. Gigs are like concerts, but smaller. A lot more personable, usually with a lot more bands involved, usually, you won’t know or listen to every band on the set list.

Gigs are in bars, or town halls, or even student union’s – I’m looking at QUB and Glasgow here, LUSU is an office building, though it’d almost certainly be more use as a gig venue. While you find your friends at concerts, you make friends at gigs. You find new music through gigs. Gigs are the control-alt-delete of your social life, especially when you’ve been going to them since you were six.

In reality, I could write whole love letters about every gig in every venue I have ever been to, I haven’t not been to a gig for this long, I think since I turned fifteen.

But none of us have time for that, enjoy these quick-fire feelings about gig venues and gigs from over the years, at home and farther afield.

The Oh Yeah! Centre in Belfast – the gateway to the gig scene. The absolute heroes who were hosting all ages gigs that one time a year every year that you didn’t have to source an ID. Nestled in the Cathedral Quarter, it is a genuinely wholesome, beautiful place to be. From falling in love with a 17 year old Declan McKenna in the front row at 15, to nearly choking when you heard the titular female name of Cherym’s now lead-single live for the first time, it is a very happy place and one that is truly committed to local acts and musical education at its heart.

The Lurig Inn in Cushendall – We all have a bit of love for our local, don’t we? The Lurig was the place to go out when you couldn’t get into, or couldn’t get to, anywhere else. Being 16 in the Glens of Antrim is certainly an experience, and it is characterised by the intergenerational harmony of a night in the Lurig with your wee man off the X-Factor. They have converted their venue into guestrooms, and of course I have feelings about this, but they still have solid acoustic nights from local artists on a regular basis, and I miss coming home to it a lot.

The Stubborn Stag at Kelly’s, Portrush – When you catch yourself driving to a gig in jeans and a t-shirt while you watch your peers in tiny neon skirts getting turned away from the main club, you know you’re doing something right – or maybe very wrong. This is my local for ‘big gigs’ and is a very underrated venue in Portrush. It is a genuinely lovely bar to be in, and attracts names from across the wide and growing North Coast music scene. I’ve even heard its worth using that roundabout in Coleraine for.

Students Unions of the world – This is basically in memorium of the Mandela Hall in Belfast. However, the Manchester Academies and QMU Glasgow need their recognition. These venues are gross, they’re sticky, they’re not even overly cheap on gig nights. But they give you the opportunity to see IDLES, the Academic, Miles Kane (!) and the Front Bottoms up close, even when you’re underage. And for that, we salute them. I do miss being able to see yer man from General Fiasco and his guitar every Sunday at the Speakeasy if I wanted to too (but don’t tell anyone).

The Belfast Empire – I haven’t actually got the words for the love I have for this venue. It is practically perfect in every way. From their regular ‘Gifted’ nights, which platform young talent, to their annual general fiasco gigs, to their high ceilings and stunning acoustics, to the location in the heart of Botanic, the closest street Belfast has to ‘cool.’ While I have never had much love for Belfast city, my heart absolutely bursts for the Empire. I cannot recommend checking them out when they reopen.

My favourite carpark in Belfast is actually also behind the Empire but that’s a story for another day.

The Button Factory, Dublin – This is where I first made eye contact with Eli Hewson, it is a beautiful, very cool venue on the periphery of Dublin’s Temple Bar. Just a stone’s throw from Gay Spar too. What more could you ask for?

Yes! Manchester – This is technically four venues, on Manchester’s Charles St. It is effortlessly groovy, and consistently hosts the best up and coming talent from Manchester, the North West, and farther afield. It is where I first saw Eli Hewson, buzzed on VKs at 2.30pm on a crisp October afternoon. It is also home to ‘the Pink Room’ the most beautiful venue I have ever been in. Imagine being at an Inhaler gig in a Barbie house. Now tell me how I can ever expect to beat that.

Sandino’s Derry – It’s a socialist bar. They have MSF stickers on the walls. It’s the complete antithesis of the Yes Pink Room; but is two stories of positive vibes and freedom. An endearing little venue that occasionally hosts good gigs but will always be there to radicalise you, if only a little bit and to welcome you home.

Some of the most endearing memories of my whole life have been finding friends at concerts, screaming and crying along to concerts, getting lost at concerts, arriving late and leaving early, and getting abandoned. Getting stuck in the mud, quite literally, and stopping at the kebab shop on the way home; and being scared you’re going to be stuck in Preston bus station forever.

Gig-going and concert going have given me anecdotes to last a lifetime, and I am not the only one. Let the music play.

I wasn’t sure where I really was going with this post, I didn’t at all plan it. But I truly hope it has encouraged you to support your local gigs and artists, and especially your local venues.

#letthemusicplay 

[spoiled-truth]

A Lesson In Color Theory (A Response to Echo Gillette’s Video)

Am I a student majoring in art? Not at the moment. Do I have an art related job? Not yet. Can I still put in my two cents and provide a counterargument as to what someone says? Yes. And that’s what I’m here to do.

Echo Gillette is a YouTuber that I watch on occasion. She provides good content that I personally enjoy. However, with one of her most recent videos, “This is not BLUE (a lesson in color theory)”, I felt a seething rage watching the whole video. Why? Because she was wrong on so many levels.

Here’s a link to the video: https://youtu.be/NVhA18_dmg0

If you’re too lazy to click a link that takes you to another website, don’t worry. I gotcha!

The summary of the video is as follows: CMY are the only legit primary colors and other ones such as RBY and RBG are false. Also purple is a fake color. (Apparently).

Now I just want to clarify before delving into this post that I do not hate Echo with a burning passion. In fact, I do not hate her at all. I just want to debunk one of the most common art myths out there that Echo is spreading to the art community. 

With that out of the way, lemme tell you the true fact and then I’ll get into all the gritty detail as to why Echo’s video is in fact false:

There are in fact 3 sets of primary colors. Not just 1.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

Echo states (at around 0:51) that if you can make “these colors” out of “this” then you’re a freaking magician.

Not including the fact that all of the colors on the left are tints (aka lighter versions of their base value), green can be made with blue and yellow, magenta can be made with primarily red and a touch of blue, and cyan can be made with blue and a touch of yellow. For identical matches, all three would have to have a ton of white mixed in with them.

So call me a magician because I used basic color mixing to get the colors you asked for.

At around 1:20, she makes the bold claim that the RBY model is based on the tradition of passing down pure misinformation. I have yet to see sources of such realities in this case.

Moving on, at around 1:48, she says that printers use CMY(K) because the CMY set of colors are the true primary colors. Which is false. I’ll delve more into why this statement is false a little later.

The 2:20 mark is where things really go up a notch. Echo tries to “prove” that you can make blue, red, and green from cyan, magenta, and yellow. 

At 2:30 exactly, she tries to prove that by mixing cyan and magenta, you can get blue.

Aaaaand she gets purple.

But not if she added so much blue--I mean, “cyan”--it canceled out what little magenta she added!

Ah, much better.

Here’s the thing. She takes a lighter blue (the paint is literally called Sky Blue) and just makes a slightly darker blue by barely adding any magenta to it. Cyan is not equal to a lighter blue, but she’s gotta sell her point, so let’s move on.

Now onto making red with yellow and magenta.

Aaaand that is pink, chief. Not red. Well, technically pink is red because pink is a tint of red, but that’s another story for another day.

However, she does say that it may be hard to see the actual color due to the camera. Like in this case here:

To me, the bottom swatch looks like a very vivid orange-red as opposed to an actual red. With paints it’s pink but with markers it’s orange-red. I’ll let the camera excuse slide.

Again, looks more orange-red than red. Depending on who you ask, magenta can actually be made with the RBY and RBG models. You make it with... red and blue. Shocker. You obviously add a lot more red than blue in these cases, but hey, don’t take it from me. Take it from this website here and this other website here. Because magenta is made with primarily red, when mixed with yellow, you’re gonna get an orange-y color, but not completely orange since there is still some blue in the mixture.

At 4:18, Echo says that because we believe that blue and yellow make green and not cyan and yellow, the blue and yellow mixture will always be more desaturated than the cyan and yellow mixture.

Can we all just agree at this point that the “cyan” Echo is using is literally a lighter blue? It’s called Sky Blue for fuck’s sake! Cyan is a mix of blue and green, not a tint of blue.

And on top of that, she chose a really dark blue, so of course the green on the top is gonna be darker and more desaturated than the one at the bottom.

At 4:40, Echo begins to literally contradict herself and it infuriates me to no end! She says, quote: “I think deep down we all know that the way we were taught color is wrong because so many people think that cyan and blue are the same color when they are vastly different hues.”

Cyan and blue are obviously not the same color, so why in the world did you treat a lighter shade of blue as cyan less than a minute ago? You are beginning to deconstruct your entire argument, Echo.

Moving on, at around 5:30, she brings up two different versions of the color wheel, the Munsell Wheel and the Triadic Color Wheel. One is science and the other one is tradition, therefore the Munsell Wheel is correct while the other one is completely false. Supposedly.

Well, if you go on the website, the site states that the Munsell Wheen is based on the RBG and CMY sets of primary colors, not the RBY set. They even state that the wheel is used for light and printing, not painting. (I have no clue why Tumblr ruined the image into an absolute blurry mess, here’s the website so you can read this yourself).

So in reality, the Munsell color wheel is for RBG and CMY while the Triadic color wheel is for RBY. Both are valid in this case, one isn’t fake while the other one’s real.

If you didn’t think I was mad before, go to 6:05 where Echo makes the outrageous claim:

“Purple is a lie. It literally doesn’t exist. It’s a color your brain makes up. That’s why purple is so rare in nature, because it’s not real.”

She literally says that. And then proceeds to debunk everything from that point on.

Also, blue is the rarest color in nature. Just saying. Not purple. All it takes is a simple Google search:

But here’s a link that goes into detail as to why this is the case.

At 6:25, Echo states that purple is the closest word in our vocabulary to magenta. So... purple and magenta are the same color? But they’re not. In the RBY and RGB sets, magenta is made via red and blue, the same two colors used to make purple. However, it’s with different ratios (a lot more red than blue). Therefore, purple and magenta aren’t the same color, they’re two different colors because they are made differently.

At 7:10, she talks about how colors are just waves of light that we perceive with our eyes. Yes, this is true. She literally says that at one end of the spectrum there’s red while at the other there’s purple. She goes on to say that every color can be assigned a number, except for magenta.

A) If purple can be assigned a color (its number is 400), that makes it a real color, correct? So why did you say it wasn’t a real color?

B) If magenta can’t be assigned a number, does it mean that it’s a color that we make up in our head and therefore isn’t a real color? Oh wait, I’m getting ahead of myself.

At 7:16, she says, and I quote:

“Magenta is a color that doesn’t have a wavelength.”

So... it’s not real then? Your entire video is crumbling and it’s crumbling quickly.

For the next while, she goes on to explain RBG and eye cone science. All of it seems to add up. She quickly says that if your green and blue cones fire off, it ‘ll make cyan.

Okay, lemme get this straight. At the beginning of the video, you picked up a light shade of blue and called it cyan. Now you’re saying that cyan and blue are two different colors? Girl, make up your mind!

Echo then goes on to explain that magenta is made by your red and blue cones firing off, but green is in the middle and those cones aren’t firing off, so it makes up the color magenta.

Once again, lemme get this straight. At the beginning of the video, you were talking about how magenta is a real color and how it’s a primary color. Now you’re saying it’s not even a real color. Please, just make up your mind! Is CMY the only set of primary colors, or are we gonna actually tell the truth and say there’s more than one set of primary colors?

Now that I’ve completely debunked Echo’s video, it’s time for part 2 of this post.

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Remember how I said in the beginning that there are in fact 3 sets of primary colors, not just 1?

When people say CMY are primary colors, they are indeed right. The whole myth that CMY is the true set of primary colors is a lie based on twisting the truth.

We have 3 sets of primary colors:

RBY

RGB

and CMY

Each set of primary colors have their own uses and purposes. Let’s start with RBY, shall we?

RBY is used in traditional media and traditional media only. Paint, markers, crayons, etc. That is why we are taught this set of primary colors in elementary school. We’re coloring with crayons and paints. This primary color set is used by any artist who does traditional art, primarily painting, but any medium that is traditional, aka not digital or printed out.

However, many many artists use a different set of primary colors: RGB

RGB is used in digital media and digital media only. It’s light as opposed to pigment. Light, screens, digital drawing. All RGB. Whenever you make digital art, you use the RGB color wheel. 

However, what if you plan on making merch of your art? Whether it’s stickers, clothing, pins, etc., if it’s being printed out, you use the CMY set of primary colors.

The CMY set is only used for printed media. Whether you’re printing out a picture or full colored document or if you’re having merch made. Either make your art CMY in your art program or you can use the RGB primary colors and then switch it afterward depending on the art program you use and if you can do that.

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In conclusion/TLDR: There isn’t one true set of primary colors that rule over. There are in fact 3 sets of primary colors that all coexist and are used in varying situations. And yes, purple is indeed a real color.

Please do not send any hate to Echo Gillette. I’m simply using her video as an example of a myth that I have seen being spread around like wildfire lately. 

If you, for whatever reason, don’t want to believe what I said because I don’t have a profession in art and is so far just a hobby and passion of mine, here’s a post where someone who has gone through art school and has a degree in art debunks a post that spread the CMY myth around.

Thank you for reading. @echoisweird​, if you’re reading this, thank you for reading this as well. I have the utmost respect for you, I just hate seeing you spread myths and lies about art. 

[real-fakedoors]

You must have gotten this question a lot but... how did you get the idea for star-crossed? And how’d you develop the world? I was really inspired by how you detailed your story to create such an amazing image for us readers of the world; especially when it got down to politics, the watches, characterizations and the planets-turned-countries. I’m currently writing (or trying to write) a book of my own, and I’ve been struggling with how to incorporate those kind of details. Do you have any advice?

hello & thank you for the ask! what a wonderful question, and an even more glowing compliment!! my heart is so full :,)

it’s a mixture of a few things, and I’m happy to break it down further if you’d like, but allow me to lay out my basic approach to writing in general & this fic specifically. I’ll try to address each question the best I can!

1. Ideas born from ideas

Music - I’m one of those people who draw on other sources of inspiration – especially music. All three of my most popular stories were at least first thought of by songs. (star-crossed was inspired by Constellations by The Oh Hellos).

Reference material/research - I’ve tried to be as explicit as possible in star-crossed when I describe/utilize the design of another creator for the basis of my work (like all of Lance’s pretty outfits), but in general, having reference material is the MOST IMPORTANT thing. I’ve done a ton of research on medieval culture, cuisine, buildings, and courts. A good example of this is from Chapter 16: The Prisoner’s Dilemma, I had no freakin’ idea how to describe a battlement, or what that even was – hence me googling “what is the top of a castle wall called” > they’re called battlements, got it! > google image, battelments 

There, I found this:

and from that, I wrote this:

Quietly, they climbed until the highest reaches opened around them, a large plane of dark stone, stained by ombre rust to near-black on opposing ends of the terrace. A very small amount of snow had gathered, but most of it had blown away in the wind –  some small catches had gathered in pockets of shade, where the perimeter wall was buttressed by columns of scaffolding that each came to a point. They were massive structures, like stone arrows pointing towards the heavens; vaguely, Lance remembered one of his mother’s stories about a fletcher’s workshop for the gods; the sweep magnificence of the architecture, certainly lent itself to a sense of the divine and otherworldly greatness.

Linear plot - In terms of figuring out what I want to accomplish in the story, and in the chapters, I quite literally depend on my notes. I tend to get over-eager and want to do a lot in one chapter, so I force myself to map things out in accordance to time rather than events, and that helps me maintain something of a regular pace.

There are a few things I knew I had to have happen in the story, and some of it filled in naturally as I began writing. Here’s a picture of my office from the week I began writing star-crossed.

(the text on the sticky notes doesn’t really matter; but pink are plot points and yellow are narrative themes)

If you squint – an example – Tuesday was supposed to be the day of the bombing, originally. All of the tension and build up and worries about the murder plot were never actually going to happen, as it was going to be wrong-place/wrong-time as a bomb went off in the city. Lance was always intended to get caught up in it instead of Keith as the target, but that obviously didn’t end up happening.

Why? As I wrote the beginning chapters, I had to remind myself that Keith is the Prince of Marmora, of which their expertise is spy networks and information. It didn’t seem feasible to me that such a large scale attack could occur in Marmora without the Blade knowing about it, which is why the attention ended up shifting towards the ball specifically.

Prompts - I am also of the belief that there is no reason to reinvent the wheel. There are wonderful, wonderful authors and writers out there who generate material specifically designed to help writers kickstart ideas; I collected a huge Google Doc of these when I first started star-crossed just to keep my head in accordance with the right themes. Rarely do I use a prompt word-for-word because they never really fit exactly what I’m writing, but the tone of the language often helps me in moments when I’m stuck. Here’s a sampling (and I am sorry, I didn’t think to mark the original blogs I took these from:

“The world was in flames. People were in need of laughter.”

“The world was in flames” helped me to derive some of the terrible disaster that came on the third night of the ball. I just really like that visual, so much orange and red light, and the unbearable heat.

“You can feel the world blooming and withering around you while you’re in prison.”

This sort of… live-and-die, questioning mortality thing, while in “prison” helped me to build Lance’s internal monologue while he was in the cellar.

“If I ignored destiny, so can you.”

Because Klance.

“I was waiting for a chance to ask you to dance with me, but you were gone.”

A knife-twist of how, though this was loosely inspired by the premise of Cinderella, Keith only got to ask Lance to dance twice over the course of three days – in part because Lance was always gone or with someone else, but also because Keith was equally tied up in the expectation that he was to dance with anyone who asked him.

The watches - That was my hope of tying in the paladin’s bayard. It was theoretically impossible to have a magical weapon appear in the hands of four teenagers and an adult without it raising many conspicuous questions, so I needed something a little more subtle. There’s still some… [redacted] about time that has to [redacted] before [redacted] can [redacted], so I can’t say much more than that. :,)

Pomp, Circumstance & Politics (oh my!) - okay, sorry, I couldn’t resist. heh. but, yeah, I don’t know if I can point to one specific thing in particular that gave rise to the political quagmire of this story. It’s definitely been inspired by an array of existing media – Downton Abbey certainly helped shape the “upper class” vs. “lower class” treatment. I also really enjoy historical readings. fiction or nonfiction, pertaining to wars: Ken Burn’s Vietnam War, for instance, helped remind me of the massive impact the decisions of few can have on the many. Whether or not you support a war, or a policy in Marmora’s case, can have devastating after-effects for the people beneath you. Keith and Krolia happen to be very conscious of this. But even so, there will always be a level of detachment from their view of the “many” (in which Lance, Hunk and Pidge fall), and this is never so apparent as when things are told from Lance’s POV. He’s just another person. He’s just one person. One of the hundred of thousands that would be effected by the daily decisions of Keith or Krolia, and it is that constant tension between “big picture” and “small picture” that I try to draw out in the on-going struggles had by the characters.

2. For me, the character’s are the world. 

That’s not me being poetic or anything – let me explain.

Imagine this: Suppose there is a person who has been devoid of all of their senses, all of their life – no touch, no smell, no hearing – nothing. Then suppose, one day, they are shaken from this catatonic state for the first time. Their senses now free, how would they experience this scene I am writing? What is so prevailing to the senses that it demands to be included in the narrative?

That is how I write my my worlds, at least descriptively. I try to pick out a few key things someone wouldn’t be able to help but notice.

This is great for characterization, too, because I can tweak the premise of the “feelingless individual” to suit how I imagine my characters. 

Keith, for example, from star-crossed – a few things I keep in mind when writing him: he is constantly frustrated by his inability to act on his impulses, so when he does it is extra satisfying. He’s keenly aware of the mannerism of others because of his upbringing in the court – if they have a weapon on their hip, for instance, is something he would notice in a heartbeat.

There were certain ticks to look for in a person trying to get too close: the ways their eyes moved, where their hands sat, what sort of clothing they wore. Was it something trim and fitted to make for an easy escape, or something bulky with a dozen pockets to hide any manner of weapon? Were those chemical burns on their hands from working with unstable materials? Did they look restless, liked they’d been up all night debating with themselves to go through with such a monumental act?

Maybe it was just learned paranoia, but these were the small enough traits that most people wouldn’t notice.

Keith, however, was trained to notice.

Lance, on the other hand, is a little more indulgent but easily overwhelmed; he has been restricted his whole life, so he indulges often and easily, but that puts him in a vulnerable position that can (and has) left him open to being hurt by the world around him. He’s one who is going to notice the weather, the quality of the air, because those were things that held meaning to him when he lived in the mountains – he’s one to fixate on his own mistakes, because he’s used to them being pointed out to him.

Lotor wanted to take off his mask so it was one less thing getting in the way, an obstruction to peeling back Lance’s sense of self, his ideas and interests and beliefs balled up in and thrown in a bin, along with his name and his past, so that he could be some fucked up little prize for the guy’s own enjoyment.

The fucking betrayal of his own body, too. The flushed cheeks, the friction of his hips over Lotor’s… ugh. It wasn’t —  he didn’t want it, it didn’t feel good, but the physical sensation was demanding and his body literally could not do anything but respond, and the memory of that alone was enough to have him clutching his head between his knees, legs drawn up to his chest.

Why was this so confusing? It shouldn’t be, and that only made Lance more frustrated. Lotor was a selfish asshole who tried to use his title to his advantage and force Lance to do things he didn’t want to do. Lance had even succeeded in pushing him away and standing up for himself, but the triumph was bittersweet.

This mindset was especially critical when writing Chapter 14: Twenty-Six Hours, because it was the first time we delved into the consciousnesses of the other characters! (I’m just really happy with the way that one turned out *sob*)

Also, a note on villany: I really dislike one dimensional villains. I prefer when my evil comes with a healthy dose of “fuck I sort of agree with that… to an extent?”

Which is why writing Lotor’s big monologue in Chapter 16: The Prisoner’s Dileema was such a challenge. I had to make his treatment of Lance seem, in some fucked up version of reality, justifiable. Because really, Lotor is a product of circumstance; he was raised with his beliefs of the poor and especially of someone of Lance’s “status,” and was acting in such a way that reflected that up-bringing. Now, Keith was raised in similar circumstances and isn’t a huge piece of shit, so there’s no excuse for Lotor’s behavior – but it’s at least logical. You can imagine buying an ox that’s for sale at the market, and then using said ox to plow your fields; we don’t see that as cruel or as mistreatment. Lotor sees Lance as little more than that, and so, in giving him lots of attention and “validation” (something that we know canon-Lotor was unfortunately lacking), it stands to reason that he was in fact trying to be kind to Lance, to treat him with a warped sense of respect.

…okay, that’s all for now! I really hope this helps and wasn’t too long-winded, like everything I do. you’ve effectively made my morning, anon, and I hope you have a wonderful day. my best wishes and luck to you while writing you story! 

[starellas]

The bright light that shines on Keith and Shiro in the astral plane is Keith’s quintessence?

I know I may be reaching out here, and I’m not sure how much I believe in this theory myself but I’ve been thinking about this for a while now and I can’t find anything logical to shoot it down. I know it may sound crazy to a certain extend, but I really believe that I may be onto something here.

So what I want to focus on in this post is this bright light right here.

At first I thought that it was a visual way of showing Keith connecting with the Black Lion, and how they’re slowly beginning to see through each other’s eyes. However, then me and my friend @msbluebell began talking about quintessence and how it’s been portrayed in the show thus far. We’ll most likely make a post about that in the future but I want to focus on this scene specifically for now.

This post is what got me thinking about quintessence and how the quintessence of every paladin varies. Lance’s quintessence is blue, Hunk is yellow, Pidge is green, Shiro is dark purple, and Allura is pink. What also caught my attention was the fact that Keith wasn’t present during the Oriande episode where Allura meets the white lion, nor was he with the team when they were fighting on Olkarion (s5ep3) and they all entered this strange windy astral plane. The wind in that scene may have represented a distortion in the balance of the paladins which Kuron created. Then when Shiro’s consciousness came, the team became balanced once again.

I’ve been thinking about Keith’s connection to the lions ever since the first episode, and I believe that we still didn’t get an answer as to why he was able to sense the Blue Lion in s1ep1. Also, how did that wormhole appear? Who made it? And how did they manage to enter the castle? It did an ID scan on them when they entered so why did it recognise them as friendly? Keith is part Galra so shouldn’t it have detected him as a threat if the Alteans 10,000 years ago were fighting a war against the Galra?

The mysteries surrounding Keith continue (at least for me) and during the scene with Shiro and Keith in the astral plane (s6ep6), I believe that this was the first time we got to see Keith’s quintessence. In s5 we’ve managed to see the quintessence of the rest of the paladins but never Keith’s own.

Now comes the part where I explain my thought process and I know it may sound weird at first, but I thought about it for like two days non-stop and I think it makes some sense.

Ok, so episode 6 of season 6 begins with a scene of Keith and Shiro in the astral plane, or the Black Lion’s consciousness. There’s nothing sticking out to me in that particular scene, other than the fact that Shiro is shown to be glowing while Keith isn’t.

Look at the pictures below.

Here we can clearly see the difference between them. Shiro = glow, Keith = no glow.

The reason I’m showing you this is because I believe that Shiro glowing represents his quintessence. The dark purple colour that surrounds Shiro could be because they’re in the Black Lion’s consciousness, but then why isn’t Keith glowing? Yeah, I know that Shiro doesn’t have a body and that his soul/consciousness is trapped within the Black Lion, but let’s not forget that this is a place where none of them are in their real bodies. I guess what I’m trying to say here is that the colour of Shiro’s quintessence is dark purple, while Keith doesn’t have his quintessence surrounding him in this moment.

At the moment their conversation takes place, Keith’s body is unconscious in the mouth of the Black Lion while Shiro is... well... in the Black Lion literally. The glow could also represent how Shiro’s quintessence and that of the Black Lion is connected?

Alright, so going back to the main scene I want to talk about. When Keith is trying to get back to the rest of his team, he calls on Shiro for help and then we see the both of them standing next to each other in the astral plane once again. Note that this time Shiro isn’t glowing but is instead standing next to Keith.

This is my opinion, but I believe that this is because Keith’s own quintessence is trying to connect with the Black Lion and thus Shiro’s own connection with it is weakening. Just an idea.

And I know that some people may think that both Shiro and Keith’s quintessence is a dark purple colour but I don’t think that’s the case. They’re both currently in the Black Lion’s consciousness and the Black Lion’s quintessence is a dark purple colour. It makes sense that they’re both illuminated by the same colour since they’re both within the Black Lion’s mind.

What I’m trying to say is that them being dark purple constantly within the astral plane doesn’t represent their own quintessence. The glow goes, the glow around their bodies is their own quintessence.

Now! I’m finally getting to the bright light. When Shiro tells Keith “See through the lion’s eyes. Patience yields focus” that’s when the bright light appears. Now during this moment, Keith’s consciousness is connecting to the Black Lion and Shiro who is within it as well. His body remains in the pilot’s seat and once Shiro tells him “patience yields focus”, I can imagine Keith trying to focus on what Shiro is telling him to do. His mind and body are separate and while the Keith in the astral plane found out the answer, his body in the physical world is focusing to connect with the Black Lion.

Then we get the light.

The light appears suddenly, brightly coming into the dark purple colour-coded astral plane. The contrast between the dark of the astral plane and the light is great, and for me, it looks like the sun which is coming out of the horizon to light up the dark skies of the night. Actually, the whole astral plane represents space. We have stars all around, as well as a circular object at the top of this image that looks like an eclipse. That is probably a planet and maybe a dark sun that is behind it? So in a way, it would be like an eclipse, but instead of the red/yellow of the sun, we have the Black Lion’s dark purple colour. Now then, if the astral plane is made to mirror space, then it would make sense for this light to be the sun. Everything is made for a purpose in animation, and the choice of colour in this scene was intentional as well.

The bright light is shining into the Black Lion’s consciousness right when Shiro tells Keith to focus and try to see through the lion’s eyes. Ok so hear me out here... you probably know where I’m going with this, and I might be reaching, but I do believe that the bright light is Keith’s quintessence.

In the moment when the bright light begins to shine into the astral plane, that’s when Keith is focusing to connect with the lion. They’re becoming one, and what other way to become one than sharing/connecting their quintessence together? Quintessence is the source of life, and it is practically life itself. Everyone has quintessence and the colour/purity of quintessence varies with every person as well. The show has continuously stressed the difference between pure and corrupted quintessence, representing the corrupted quintessence with Haggar, Zarkon and Lotor, while showing the pure quintessence that is within the quintessence field as well. Quintessence also varies within a person, and that makes sense since we’re all different people.

Now after the image above, we get this shot of Keith.

Keith is actually glowing now! There is a glow surrounding his body for the first time since we’ve seen him within the astral plane. They’re not showing Shiro in this moment, and I’d be very curious to see what he looks like or if he’s glowing, but for now, let’s just look at Keith. The lines of his face are an orange/red colour and they’re the same colour as the light that is shining down on them. As far as we’ve seen up to s6, all of the paladins have the same colour as their original lions. Lance - blue, Pidge - green, etc. If we follow that pattern, then it would make sense for Keith’s own quintessence to be red, because his original lion was the Red Lion.

Then Keith’s eyes begin to shine.

For me this is proof that Keith and the Black Lion’s quintessence really are connecting because now they are able to see through each other’s eyes. They’re connected as one, meaning that somehow their quintessence must have met/merged/connected. The bright light we see coming into the Black Lion’s consciousness (the astral plane) represents Keith’s quintessence connecting with the Black Lion, something his body in the physical world is doing.

And here we see the Black Lion as well, showing us that they really connected.

As far as I know, we’ve never seen a paladin’s eyes glow like that while connected to their lions. To be fair though, we didn’t see anyone connect to their lions in this way apart from Shiro. Although when Shiro connected with the Black Lion in s1ep2, his eyes were closed so we couldn’t see if they glowed a bright blue colour just like Keith’s eyes do here. All we saw was Shiro’s eyes flashing a bright yellow colour before he closed them, seeing through the Black Lion’s eyes instead. For me it’s interesting to note that while Shiro had his eyes closed, Keith’s eyes remain open throughout the scene. They’re not glowing, but we know that Keith can see the rest of the paladins now.

I keep mentioning that everyone’s quintessence is a different colour and maybe I should explain this so that you guys know where I’m coming from. I’m mostly referring to this scene in s5ep3.

Okay, and I know here you might say “Oh! They’re all colour-coded based on the colours of their lions” but you’d be wrong if you say that. A perfect example of how the paladins’ and the lions’ quintessence is shown separately is by looking at Allura and Lance. Allura is standing on a blue circle while her quintessence is pink. (Also look at how everyone is not glowing apart from Shiro in this image. Shiro is glowing because that’s his quintessence, while everyone else is illuminated by the colour they’re standing on. Look at Allura, in this picture, she is illuminated by the blue colour of her lion).

But the quintessence of the paladins isn’t the same as their lions, and I’ll prove that right here. Alright, so you’ve all seen that Allura is standing on a blue circle, but then look at her glowing in a pink colour now.

Yep, that’s Allura. You can see the blue light that is surrounding her BUT her quintessence is a pink colour. The Blue Lion’s quintessence is blue while Allura, who is it’s paladin, has her own quintessence and that is pink. They both connect together when in battle and that’s how they manage to gain all the power-ups, through the bond of quintessence between them.

Lance is also the same as Allura. He’s standing in a red circle, but his glow is blue, meaning that his quintessence is blue while the Red Lion’s quintessence is red.

What I’m trying to say here is that the lions have their own quintessence and their paladins have their own, combining/connecting with the lions to form a unique bond they have between each other.

“The quintessence of the pilot is mirrored in his lion. Together, they form somethig greater than science can explain.” is a quote from s1ep1 that Allura said about the bond between a paladin and their lion. Although looking at the colours now, the “mirror” aspect confuses me because if they do mirror, then how come Lance’s quintessence is blue and the Red Lion’s is red? How come they’re compatible? Maybe it’s not all in the colour but also the purity of their quintessence? No, then again, if it was about purity, then Zarkon wouldn’t be able to connect with the Black Lion again in s1 and s2. Their bond was still there so I’m led to believe that purity/corruption has nothing to do with it. The whole lion switch is a mess tbh.

So in conclusion, to sum all of this up, I believe that the bright light in that scene with Shiro and Keith was Keith’s quintessence connecting with the Black Lion, allowing Keith to see through the Black Lion’s eyes. Thinking about the light now, I don’t know what else it could represent, and in my opinion, this makes perfect sense.

One thing I forgot to mention is how big that bright light is. I mean, look how it overtakes the dark purple of the astral plane in this shot.

I don’t think that the crew made the light shine so brightly like this for no specific reason. Visually, the light is very powerful and in just a second, we see all of the dark purple of the astral plane vanish. Just look at the picture above. Everything is an orange/red colour and if we leave this image as is without the context of the episode, I would think “Oh wow! Is that the Red Lion’s astral plane!?” Come on, tell me you wouldn’t think that if you saw this image all by itself. See the ring of fire in the background? The purple of it is completely gone and now the ring looks like it’s actually made of fire, just like the fire of the sun.

I mean, the red/orange light is powerful and if we compare it to Shiro’s quintessence, it is huge. If this really is Keith’s quintessence then the crew made an effort to show us how large it visually is. My point: what if Keith has a bigger quantity of quintessence than the rest of the paladins? We haven’t seen his quintessence thus far and he wasn’t present in s5ep3 when all of the paladins found themselves in the windy astral plane. Also, when it comes to the purity of quintessence, what if his quintessence is pure as well? His eyes were glowing a light blue colour and this mirrors Allura’s own glowing eyes when she transfers Shiro’s spirit/soul from the Black Lion into the clone body.

Their eyes mirror, whether it was intentional on the crew’s part or not, they do.

If Keith really does have a larger quantity of quintessence, then it could possibly explain how he was able to sense the Blue Lion back in s1ep1. When we are introduced to Keith in the beginning, we are immediately told that he could sense this strange energy, that he has the ability to sense it while the other’s don’t. This was established right away in the very first episode, and I’ll be damned if it doesn’t have any significant meaning. I don’t believe the crew did it just so the paladins could find the Blue Lion and then eventually Allura, I have faith in them too much to think that they would pull a move like that. Apart from being able to sense the Blue Lion back in season 1, the crew also emphasised Keith’s bond with the Red Lion, especially in season 2. We are still left to wonder if that was done for a purpose and obviously it was. We just didn’t find out why they did it yet, but they’ll most likely explain it in the upcoming episodes, or at least I hope they do.

To be fair, we don’t really know if the “energy” Keith felt was coming from the Blue Lion. But since Keith actually ended up finding the cave by himself, I do believe that it was the Blue Lion. Also, it’s interesting to note that Krolia and Keith’s dad were the Blue Lion’s protectors in some way, meaning that Keith grew in close proximity to the Blue Lion. Could that be how he managed to sense it? We still don’t know.

I’ve seen some theories floating around that Keith may have some Altean blood in him and I like the idea very much, especially since it would link back with his 80s counterpart, but I’m not jumping on that train-wagon just yet. I need evidence and so far all I have points to Keith having a strange relationship with quintessence. He is sensitive to the lions and has been shown to connect with the Blue Lion, the Red Lion and now the Black Lion as well. I’m not going to say anything for certain, but so far I can conclude that he is able to sense/connect with the lions much more than the rest of the paladins. And in order to connect with them, Keith’s quintessence must be different in some way. I believe that it is different, based on the scene with the light I was talking about of course.

And if you want me to sum up my thoughts in a simple way well... I’d say that Keith’s quintessence is different from normal quintessence living beings would have. At this moment, and based on everything I have, I’d say that’s the best conclusion I can come up with at the moment.

I know I just concluded my thoughts but I’d also like to add this to the post:

“Running for a full year on one drop of quintessence, with no decline in revolutions per dobosh. No other energy source like this exists. The ships I’m creating for us work on the same principle and the ore from the comet practically engineers itself. It’s frightening, in a way.” is what Alfor says in s3ep7, and it’s the image up above.

So what I get from this scene is that the spinning object had one drop of quintessence dropped onto it and it’s been running for a while now without showing any signs of stopping. So basically even one drop of quintessence is enough to make it spin infinitely like this.

Do you know where I’m going with this?

Keith had quintessence spilled on him in s1ep10. That’s way more than a single drop of quintessence. If a single drop was able to spin the machine thing infinitely, then how would it affect Keith? I mean, that is a lot of quintessence that was spilled on him. Then we also see his hand healing in the image below.

What if his body absorbed the quintessence in some way? At first I thought the healing scene was suppose to show us the power quintessence has and how it can heal anything. But that was just season 1, and back then, we didn’t know anything about quintessence at all. We know something about it now, but essentially, quintessence is still a mysterious substance/force/being. There are still mysteries surrounding it, even ones that science can’t explain.

What if because of his contact with quintessence here, Keith’s own quintessence got a boost? It would explain how his quintessence could be so large in this shot.

Keith was able to sense the Blue Lion in season 1 so the quintessence spill doesn’t explain it. If Keith’s sensitivity to quintessence was already strong then, then how did the spilling affect him? We don’t know that yet but I really, really hope that in future episodes, they’ll address Keith’s relationship with quintessence and just how sensitive he is to it. I’m not letting the Keith from episode 1 go just yet because I desperately want to know how he was able to sense the Blue Lion back then. There’s something more to Keith and quintessence, and we were shown that throughout the seasons. It wasn’t in our faces kind of showing, but it was done subtly in the background. Again, I may be totally reaching, but personally, I believe I’m onto something here.

And that is my TEDTalk! Whew! I hope I make at least some sense by the end of this. I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, and I’ve been sitting here writing this post for about 3 hours straight now. The main reason I wrote this is because I want to know what you guys think. I didn’t see anyone mention this before or interpret the light in such a way.

Ok, I’ll end my blabbering now. See you later pala-dudes!

[wakraya]

Alright, let me put a few points of stuff I’ve seen on the tags to rest here.

1) Jades Are A Rare Caste.

They are implied to be less plentiful than other castes, yeah, I believe Seadwellers are also rare? But here’s the thing- We have six Jades. When someone says “There’s twice as many Jades as we have Rusts or Bronzes”, it sounds like, shit, yeah weren’t they supposed to be less abundant? Except. They’re still, in total, just Six. Alternia is a planet. Lore-wise, they may be a less plentiful Caste, but they’re not even... In the double digits. This is not even the population of a neighborhood, Xefros’ suburban area likely had more Trolls in total than there are Trolls in this Troll Call, and besides it’s likely all Jades are in the same place for some reason- Jadeblood School is the biggest headcanon right now, for example, so... Why wouldn’t you have a bunch of Jades there?

2) Jades Are All Female.

This is a straight-up misconception, yeah they’re mostly girls, but canon still leaves room for Jadeblood boys. So Male Jadeblood? Yeah, can happen, and there’s nothing going against the canon here.

3) Trolls Have No Concept Of Gender.

This one is honestly baffling to me because I haven’t heard about this until the discourse today. I am assuming this comes from the fact Troll Reproduction doesn’t care who provides the genetic material? Their reproduction is not tied to gender, which has made people assume Troll junk is the same for both guys and gals. Except... That’s about it. Even though it’s silly because they’re bugs and implied to be hermaphroditic, they still show sexual dimorphism. And even if they didn’t, they still have a concept of Gender, merely based on the fact there’s Troll Boys and Troll Girls? He/She divide? With Hiveswap expanding on it and showing us there are, indeed, NB Trolls that prefer They/Them. This Gender Divide is actually talked about by Porrim, who also implies that while Fuchsia-down Alternia seemed a Matriarchy, Purple-down it was actually a Patriarchy, informing us that not ONLY is there sexual dimorphism, but also, a cultural divide. By saying that Lanque can’t be Trans because Trolls have no concept of Gender, you’re either mistaking headcanons for actual canon... Or being transphobic by equating genitalia to gender. In which case, fuck off.

4) Trolls Don’t Care About Fashion.

This is something Karkat says, and I believe Kanaya also implies she cares about it more than it’s usual? But Fashion in Troll Culture, seems to be exactly like Mail. Karkat mentions there’s no Mail they do not get a Mailbox with a Flag, yet we see Xefros get mail! Except it’s not Mail. It’s parachuted delivery straight from a website. There’s no standarized Mail system on Alternia, but that doesn’t mean companies can’t deliver things themselves, directly to their Hives. Similarly, Trolls have no concept of Fashion- They don’t care about things such as trends, variety, being dressed properly. And... Hiveswap doesn’t break this. They have more colorful clothes, and some look pretty good! But. Look at Cirava. They’re an absolute fashion disaster. Diemen is just dressed like a hot dog. The Jades all seem to wear uniforms of some sort. Fozzer and Marsti, Skylla, they are more akin to work clothes. The Soleil Twins and Marvus are more flashy, because they’re likely part of a spectacle. Most of them are either a sort of uniform or outfit that’ll fit whatever they’re doing, or a basic color with their symbol somewhere. And you can go from Bright Pink Bathrobe Stelsa, to Pirate-Clad Remele, and back to Punk Denim Elwurd. Not being Fashionable can be about trends, they may simply dress however they want, because of their interests, or their jobs.

But let’s think about this another way. Let’s say that, yeah, they did retcon Troll Fashion- Would... Would you really be mad if they retconned Troll Fashion. Like... Would you be happier if every Troll shown was wearing a plain black shirt with their Symbol, and pants or a skirt, with slight variations of a jacket or a tank top. I don’t think there’s a single Hiveswap design I dislike, and they’re all visibly varied and easily recognizable, and tell a lot about the character, which is like. Character Design 101? So I honestly don’t know what the complaint here is exactly, except Canon Purity.

5) Hiveswap Ruined Fantroll Variety

How. First of all, the entire previous point. Just, expanding upon basic Troll Clothes, showing us the extent of how Trolls dress. But also like... What did they limit exactly? We’re going to learn more about Trolls and Troll Culture and Biology, of course headcanons are going to clash with canon, but so far, what have they limited? I’ve heard about Horns, but like... These horns have all been so varied, and sure there’s stuff like hooks with Ceruleans and Jades, and Four Horns with Golds but... This pattern is also broken, with Azdaja having three, for example. We’ve seen new Psionic colors, we’ve seen stuff like Horn Piercing, we’ve seen Troll Twins, we have seen horns where the orange part starts at different heights than you’d expect and even some of the parts jutting out having their own red-orange-yellow coloration separate of the main shaft of the horn. If anything, until now, there’s always been headcanons for Horns, like, “Oh this is their symbol so it’ll be like this”, or “this is their caste, so, they’ll have big horns”, but no, we have Purples with small horns, we have Bronzes with curly horns downwards, we have a cerulean with super uneven horns, we have a gold with three horns, we have a teal with flat horns, we have rounded horns, we have hotdog horns. I’ve heard people wonder about some Horn Shapes in the prior weeks, about how they didn’t match their restrictive headcanons, and NOW you tell me they’re restrictive? There’s also been complaints about caste roles and stereotypes, and I feel people really forget that Alternia is a Tyranny that forces the inhabitants in roles they are most likely not happy with, specially for the lower castes. Like... Rusts are disposable, and likely to be bound to a life of servitude. Because they’re the lowest of the low, society treats them as such, and there’s stereotypes like Indigos being strong, but that’s not any more restrictive than Psionics being a Gold-only thing, and much like we see Zebede not having Psionics or Elwurd and Mallek having normal eyes to every other cerulean’s messed-up ones... There’s exceptions to the rule everywhere. There have always been.

I’ve also seen complaints about no mutant bloods or things like Albinism and such? And like... The fact they didn’t include it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. We actually got Freckles with Zebede, so it already implies skin conditions are a thing, so Albinism could happen, if anything we have more PROOF that it may be a thing! Complaining about a lack of Limebloods and Violets, too, is just nitpicking, we know there will be Violets eventually, but either we haven’t been shown right now, or they’re just. In the sea. And we’re in the land. And Limes are likely to be a plot point, I’m expecting at least ONE Lime (Fiamet), if not more to show up at some point, and if there’s NO Limebloods I’m sure there will be at least talk OF Limebloods and their whole, you know, extermination, which is a canon thing that happened.

6) The Game’s Representation Is Bad Representation

Listen... Listen. I have friends ecstatic that there’s at LEAST three non-cis characters in Hiveswap (One trans boy, two NBs), without counting the possibility of other characters being Trans (Pretty much anyone could be), or NB (Like, I think about half of the characters don’t have pronouns on their bullet points?), not to mention, further acts with new characters. Hell, even Xefros or Dammek or Joey could be Trans. We. Literally know nothing about these characters, our information is so limited, and yet there’s already people cheering about it and super happy to see representation and I’ve seen one person in the tag encouraged to come out because Lanque is Trans. There’s also at least two Jewish Trolls, plus the possibility of Kanaya being Jewish as well, either her, Rose, or both. And yet, even though they have simply said this, in good faith, respectfully, and trying to add diversity to their roster, and even though we literally know NOTHING of how it’ll be handled yet, you... Bash them for it?

Like, okay. Lanque. The big topic today. He’s not particularly masculine, but as has surely been repeated over and over and over again, not all trans men are masculine, and not all trans people suffer dysphoria. And yeah, it’s true! It would be nice if there was a more masculine trans man! It would be great if there were trans girls! It would be great if there were more diversely coded NB characters! And there may be?? There’s going to be more characters, if not in this Act, in future Acts, and of the ones we’ve seen, many of them could still be NB or Trans. Like... Again. We’ve got three bullet points from each character. Like, I’m sorry you didn’t get a trans character that you could identify better with yet? But that doesn’t mean you have to bash the one we got? When there are people genuinely happy and encouraged about it? You’re not being progressive. You’re being an elitist asshole, if you only accept 100% perfect representation suited to your tastes, and everything else is garbage, or god help me, ‘fetishization’ or ‘disgusting’ (I have heard both on the Tags), like seriously. You’re being the oppressive one. You’re the one making representation harder than it should be.

Oh and if you’re on the OPPOSITE side of the spectrum and simply being Transphobic or saying how all of this is ‘pandering’ to the audience, really I have nothing to say, if you cannot have basic empathy for a group of people finding representation in a game which source material is extremely queer, and have to resort to bashing it down, screw you.

7) WhatPumpkin Are Doing A Bad Job

This is your subjective opinion, and I’d dare to say, a wrong opinion, but let’s not go there for now. WP has suffered a lot of hate for some reason? There have been lies and slander and bashing for absolutely no reason. People hate Cohen for some reason, and have demonized him, when so far what I’ve seen about him is that he’s a pretty chill dude. The writing of Hiveswap wasn’t like, a masterpiece? But it was fun and it got a good bunch of chuckles out of me and made me care for the characters, and even got me a bit scared and sad at some points during the game! It has that Homestuck Spark, and if you say ‘it’s not like Homestuck’, you’re... I’m sorry, you’re just an elitist, or simply don’t like the style anymore? But it carries a very similar charm.

I’ve heard complaints about Hussie not being involved in the project- Which is false, he did write the entire story FIRST THING, and is overseeing the whole project with the rest of the team. There’s also been criticism towards WP ‘failing’ at representation (Before actually seeing the representation apparently, again, we know NOTHING about the game and how it’ll handle stuff so far), and also accusing WP and Cohen specifically of adding representation because of Woke Points and like... WP are Queer as Heck? I don’t know all of them, I don’t even know how many people are working at WP. But they’re not all straight 100% for sure, and I believe they’re not all cis- And even if they ARE all cis, I also doubt a group working on such a Queer game would NOT hear out from Trans friends. What I’m trying to say, is that they haven’t shown at any point disrespect of ignorance regarding the diversity they want to tackle, they’re not doing things out of bad faith, and we haven’t seen how they handle it yet. Even if they didn’t handle it ideally! Does it need to be absolutely perfect, there can be missteps on the way there, god dammit if someone’s trying to better themselves but not quite getting it right you don’t insult them and tear them down! You show them what to do better next time or where they are mistaken, by pessimistically ignoring what they’re trying to do out of spite you’re discouraging good will and being an asshole! Which leads me to my last point for now.

8) They Could Have Told Us We Were Misgendering Lanque

This one is... Really, a bit ridiculous. Okay, let me explain. If someone is Trans and you misgender them accidentally, they’ll tell you quickly and you’ll, hopefully, correct yourself. Obviously. When the Trolls leaked, everyone latched onto Lanque as ‘Butch Lesbian’, and clung to that hope, and now that they were proven wrong, there was salt, at first, and THEN came the talk about Misgendering Lanque. And let me tell you, I think this is very selfish of everyone saying it.

What WP likely thought would happen is that they’d reveal Lanque to be a Trans boy, and people would be like “Oh! Nice, Trans Rep!”. Sure they could’ve told us back then but... Why? Lanque is not. A real person. He’s a fictional character, he’s not going to be offended because you thought he was a butch woman for a few months, in fact the SILHOUETTE alone ALREADY had people clinging to him as a butch woman. If he were a real person? Of course there’d be a quick correction. But he’s. A character. He’s just a god damn character. Who is Trans, out of good faith by a very Queer company, showing us a Trans man, who is a character, and expecting that, like NORMAL PEOPLE, we would not do something like THIS.

When you criticize WP for not telling us Lanque was a Trans Man, all I’m seeing is a shift of blame, not wanting to simply admit you were wrong and jumped to conclusions, and like- Even if there was Fanart or Fanfic of Lanque calling him a woman briefly, shipping him around mistakenly, who cares? You just. Go. “Okay, I’ll change it” or “Whoops haha this was from when we didn’t know he was a Trans boy!” Why the militant hatred? Why the absolute disgust shown today? I can’t understand, I simply cannot understand why your first reaction to “Trans boy Jadeblood” is “WELL I THOUGHT HE WAS A BUTCH LESBIAN!! I WASN’T WRONG BY ASSUMING THIS, WHATPUMPKIN WERE FOR TRYING TO MAKE THEIR GAME MORE DIVERSE”. It’s like... You just. Correct it? You just correct yourself? And yeah you can want more masculine Trans boys, that’s fair! But dismissing what we got, entirely, and insulting it, and getting like THIS, and blaming the team, it just seems.

Narcissistic. It seems narcissistic and extremely self-centered, and perfectionist to the extreme of not wanting anything other than a complete and absolute ideal, that may fit you but may also not fit others.

In conclusion?

People are happy about representation. This isn’t destroying diversity or representation, this is not reducing customization of Fantrolls, this is only building MORE on the already expansive system, and giving us representation and hope for MORE representation in the future, and if you cannot be happy for a genuine, good natured, and honestly, perfectly fine attempt, if you cannot feel empathy for the people who did feel for this representation, if you can only want to find reasons to bash something down and demonize something good and point out how BAD and NOT GOOD things are and how MUCH BETTER they could be, then honestly, you’re a deeply unpleasant person.

Give things time. Give people with good intentions chances. Learn to backpedal and learn from mistakes and simply correct yourself when you’re wrong instead of going down a hateful spiral. Learn to separate fiction and reality. Just like... Think, for a moment, when you’re writing something down- Is it a jaded opinion, or an objective fact? Will it hurt and discourage people who’re genuinely happy or trying to make others happy? Why do more harm than good when there are good intentions paving the way?

I just simply cannot understand the basic lack of critical thought and empathy of some people I have seen today, and hopefully with this I can make my opinion on the whole absurd Discourse that transpired today clear.

[nakanotamu]

pink, gray, orange, lilac!

(re: this post)

Thank you Emil!!

Pink: I actually just answered this one after getting the ask, but in case anyone missed it, I am a big fan of professional wrestler Tam Nakano. My second favourite is Saki Kashima. She doesn’t usually believe in herself but I believe in her

Gray: Ooooh, I actually love lots of finishers, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually tried to figure out what my favourite is. Tam’s character, like I said, is in flux, and as a result she basically tries out a new finisher every month, so she actually can’t win this category by default. Far be it from me to miss an opportunity to hate WWE, but I actually love Seth’s Curbstomp. I’m also a big fan of the One Winged Angel regardless of my complex feelings towards Kenny, and love that it’s protected except for Ibushi.

But I think the best finishers say something about their character. Naito’s Stardust Press gets used rarely for obvious reasons and isn’t even a finisher anymore really, but it says so much about the match every time it gets used. Tanahashi’s High Fly Flow has all the flash and takes all the labour to set up, even as just a picture perfect splash, that a truly great, pure babyface finisher should have. But it’s also destroyed his knees. And he keeps using it, as far as I know not even really considering changing it out, because it’s what he thinks the fans want. Ibushi’s Kamigoye has a very well known story that isn’t done yet, about trying to surpass Tanahashi and Nakamura and trying to figure out how to do that given Nak’s absence and trying to figure out how to do that in general.

So I think given that, my favourite finisher is Kagetsu’s Oedo Coaster. It’s named after her faction, so you would assume it represents Oedo Tai’s ethos somehow, or represents what she believes in as their leader. Except it doesn’t make any sense at all.

Kagetsu’s, and by extension Oedo Tai’s, catchphrase literally translates to “While holding our breath, let’s do our best.” A better translation would be something like “Let’s half-ass doing our best”. Oedo Tai doesn’t cheat because they’re mean or bad, they cheat because they’re lazy.

The Oedo Coaster is a 450 splash. That’s, like, one of the flashiest, most difficult to setup and pull of finishers in wrestling. Like I said for Tana, that shit is babyface central, and it takes work. At the surface level, what on earth is Kagetsu doing using this move ever???

What on earth is Meiko Satomura’s former protege doing using this move? Why would someone who wanted so desperately to be The Ace and couldn’t make it use a move like that? Why would someone who doesn’t care and just wants to chill use a move like that?

Wrestlers lie constantly, and they tell the truth in the ring. I love Kagetsu. Kagetsu is Naito using the Stardust Press in every single match, except if he came up with The Stardust Press after forming LIJ and also named it, like, Los Ingobernables. It’s the wrestling equivalent of shouting at the top of your lungs “I’m only being lazy because I’m worried things might fall apart, please please love me”, which like, whole ass mood. The Oedo Coaster.

Orange: Minoru Suzuki!! He’s so good at being evil. The fact that anyone can boo a legend like that, who’s still going the way he is at 50, is really a testament to how good his work as a heel is. How can anyone not love this kind middle aged man who loves One Piece??? Oh, right, because he would murder and probably eat you.

Taichi was disqualified bc our Lord Emperor is a top-tier babyface who has never cheated in his life, ever.

Lilac: Ibushi! Tana has almost too much conviction to be the best face. He’s too sure that his way is right, and that opens him up to actually doing the wrong thing a lot of the time. But Ibushi has a fluidity that the Ace doesn’t, which is the source of, like their whole thing. It’s why Tana thinks Ibushi could go even farther than him, it’s why he thinks the only way for that to happen is for Ibushi to start doing things his way, and it’s why Ibushi never could. Saki Kashima and Kairi Sane are very close seconds for me, but Ibu-tan has a certain extra relationship that puts him over the top.

Ryusuke Taguchi was disqualified for being so good and amazing that he in fact transcends being a face and is just a god, but also for being a massive, terrible butt pervert.

Thank you so so much for these four these were so fun wow.

[voidsettle]

Birthday in Venice

                                                                                                          October 2018

Everyone suggests you should get lost in Venice. Funny thing is, you don't actually have a choice. First thing you do when setting foot on land is completely lose your sense of orientation, map or no map. Venice is as welcoming as a labyrinth of water and stone can be. Oh my, did I have fun with its feats!

Venetian masks; a lucky shot I got from the storefront at night after spying a random guy taking similar picture on his phone

This year, I've made the decision of spending the Big Day in a different country, away from people I know and love. My mom said there are three things you should never hesitate to spend your money on: food, books and travel. I heeded her advice, like the obedient daughter I was.

As (yet another) birthday present, I finally bought myself a DSLR camera. Photos aplenty!

Prepared by my solo trip to Rome, I was relaxed and at ease. Venice met me with sun through clouds and sparkles of water.

Confused Rant (Skip at Will)

Accademia Bridge between San Marco and Dorsoduro

Before I start praising the beauty of the place, I need to vent out my disappointments and be done with them.

The biggest shock I got during this trip was upon realization that Venice is not Italy. It's completely separate; Venetians hang out the winged-golden-lion-on-red flags of their city not the country they live in. They boast their history, they live engulfed in the past magnitude of the Venetian republic, the dominion dictating its will to the region if not the whole ‘enlightened’ world.

‘Venetians’ are only those living on the cluster of islands; mainland (deprecatingly referred to by true Venetians as Mestre) is a completely different thing.

They are pridefully blindfolded by the achievements of the past - which are impressive, no doubt. But.

Venice doesn't seem welcoming. It's a fascinating place, for sure, but it's not one I'd chose to live in. It's slowly dying, despite the flocks of tourists crowding the tiny streets. Not just drowning, although this is a real problem - but losing its touch with reality, completely dependent on the inflow of money brought by tourists yet also soaked with condescending disdain. As if asking you to leave your money and get the hell out of their islands, thank you very much (Venice is surprisingly expensive; in a day, you get the habit of taking out a wallet when entering a church).

Venetian gondolas, wharf at Grand Canal

Unlike Rome, oblivious to your presence, living its life, Venice wears its colorful, gaily painted hospitality mask and a painful scorn underneath, struggling between the need to please you and get rid of your presence. This is exactly my problem with tourist towns - they need tourists, but the feeling of silent, woeful aversion toward non-locals is ever-present and oppressively strong. Thanks, I hate it.

However, this is also a puzzle piece that makes Venice unique. I'm not exactly an inexperienced traveler, yet I rarely feel this strongly about places. The contrast here is stark (especially when emphasized by a short trip to Verona - this, a definitely Italian town), and it makes the place even more vivid in my memory.

Lost in Venice: The Labyrinth, the Moments, the Rhythm

Venice is one of those cities known around the world. Its history, its geography, its multitude of symbols and names (La Dominante, Queen of the Adriatic, City of Canals, City of Bridges, City of Masks). It became the appellative to other cities around the world. It astonishes at first glance; it's unique

The infrastructure of Venice is impressive. The city literally is built on swamps, the marshy land that sinks underfoot, not to mention the weight of stone and brick buildings. To strengthen the soil, long wooden piles were installed to reach the firm clay underneath sand and mud. The wood used is still argued to be either alder trees from southern Baltics or Russian pines (probably the former). Either way, the wood is water resistant, given its century-old age and excellent preservation state.

To boot, Venice, surrounded by the sea, had no source of fresh water. Today, it is delivered from mainland. In the days of Venetian republic, a system of water cisterns that collected rain was constructed - hence the huge stone socles of wells on nearly every campo.

There is an anecdote roaming among the tour guides that some of these stone wells were stolen by insane tourists as souvenirs from Venice.

Venetian water cistern. The most unbelievable part is that, in the wells, the preserved water is probably still drinkable

The unusual geography gives way to even less usual architecture. Usually I'm pretty decent with maps and finding my way in a new city. Venice shattered my confidence to shards when I spent nearly two hours for a walk that should've taken no more than 15 minutes, and after finding myself going in circles. That was a start! The first day I arrived, I didn't have plans but wanted to have a bite and then get to San Marco - well, good luck with that. An hour later, despite living in 10 minutes walk from the piazza, I found myself in the middle of Castello, a completely different neighborhood of Venice - actually further from the destination.

Venice has 6 neighborhoods (sestieri): San Marco, San Polo, Cannaregio, Castello, Dorsoduro and Santa Croce.

San Marco is the only piazza in Venice. Although the place doesn't lack squares, they're all called campos, literally fields, since were used as such when Venice was built. The houses faced water, and it was the only way to get from one island to another (hence boat transportation system). Naturally, every island needed somewhere to grow food, and a church for the people living on each separate island. That's the trademark of Venetian urban planning: a campo with a church and a well for rainwater.

The house located on the peak of the island but looks like it is the island

I cannot remember the last time I was this fascinated by the way a place is built. It's literally a labyrinth, with dead ends of tiny private squares (never closed; you can get anywhere and knock on any door if you wish) and steps leading into water. Even with a clear idea of a direction in mind (and a first couple of turns you need to make remembered), you are bound to get lost. There are little to no identifiers (if you don't count the names of streets and campos, which tell you precisely nothing), with pointed signs reserved for major attractions like San Marco and Rialto.

Campos are often named after the churches that are or were standing here (signified by letter 'S', e.g. Campo S Maria Formosa).

Besides, some of the street names repeat (like Via del Forno, or literally Baker Street - specifically because bakers were important for every island, so most of the islands have one of those). It's best to avoid making appointments without specifying the sestiere.

Despite how scary this may sound, I relished in this feeling of being lost and aimless (control freak, present). It's a rare sensation of freedom, unobtrusive and calming, when you forget everything and just wander around with only a vague understanding of your final goal: food, coffee, sites, excitement!

I was cautioned GPS goes nuts in this water-stone labyrinth; it's not always the case, but having a paper map on you is still not a bad idea. And throw in an umbrella to the kit: Venice enjoys being rainy.

San Marco is (obviously) the busiest, most chaotic among the Venetian sestieri. Always full of tourists - even near midnight, even in its narrowest, smallest of streets. In comparison, Cannaregio and most of Dorsoduro look empty, almost deserted. The rest of the sestieri are relaxed, drowning in quiet slumber.

Every city is different and beautiful in its own right - there are people that make them unique. There are moments to witness in the quietest sestieri - and in the busiest of crowds.

A nun dressed in white descending the stairs of a half-blocked bridge, with a dove scared away from her feet. A group of middle-aged tourists abstrusely discussing the architecture of a baroque church in some incomprehensible language. A couple of elderly friends having a cozy chat at the bench on a tiny campo, with cigarettes smoking in their lazy fingers. A woman walking her minuscule dog along one of the wider canals near Rio dei Mendicanti. A colorful boat that looks like a toy bobbing on the busy waves of Cannaregio. Doors with quirky handles at the center of the frame, scattered all over the city. White-necked, grey-winged seagulls crowning the chimneys of old houses in desperate need of repainting.Colorful enjoyably shaped masks crowded in the shops. A couple sitting on the pavement at the water's edge, the woman going through the contents of her bag while the man smiles at passersby. An intricately cut wooden paddle in the showcase. An artist's workshop on full display with floor-level windows - or a woodworker's, hidden at the back corner of a narrow street. The most peculiar style of windows made of bottle bottoms (this can be seen all over Venetian region, in churches, palaces and old houses). Small crooked bridges with fragile rails. Gondolas hidden among the forest of striped palines, and gondoliers in striped shirts and straw boaters with red ribbons - smoking, chatting, singing. A kitten playing on the windowsill among the plants in pots. People sitting on marble stairs of the churches. Traditional hexagonal Venetian lamp posts of pink glass. Students sketching hastily in their notepads. A guy with the sun stuck in his ruffled dark hair photographing the lagoon. A group of men in acid-orange lifesavers' jackets smoking during break near their ambulance boats. A policeman bowing his head to a Madonna in a dilapidated wooden shrine. A messy old bookshop with human-high stacks of multi-colored books felled outside the door.

At times I think I've seen less than I could - because I kept getting lost in streets and thoughts.

The rhythm is everywhere. The lulling tempo of residential houses with their rounded windows. The dignified cadence of lofty Renaissance palaces (especially evident on Piazza San Marco, with its Doge's Palace and the Procuratie). The clear pulse of campos, churches, water wells and - most distinctively - bridges, small, grand, wide, connecting two or even three islands, crossing Grand Canal, leading into stores and homes.

What to see in Venice:

San Marco sestiere:

piazza San Marco

basilico di San Marco

St Mark's Campanile

St Mark's clocktower

palazzo Ducale

Bridge of Sighs

Procuratie Vecchie and Procuratie Nuove (Museo Correr, Venice National Archeological Museum, Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana)

chiesa di San Zulian

chiesa di San Moise

campo San Luca

chiesa San Luca

Rio Tera dei Assassini

Scala Contarini del Bovolo

chiesa di San Salvador

Rialto bridge and terrazza panoramica

chiesa di Santo Stefano

Museo della Musica

campo Santo Stefano

Instituto Veneto di Scienze Lettere ed Arti

basilica di San Giorgio Maggiore (Isola San Giorgio)

Dorsoduro sestiere:

Accademia bridge

Santa Maria della Salute

fondamente Zattere ai Saloni (fondamente dei Incurabili)

chiesa del Redentore (Giudecca)

campo Santa Margherita

Santa Croce sestiere:

Constitution bridge

Venetian subway (3 stops in total)

San Polo sestiere:

chiesa di San Giacomo Apostolo (hosting musical museum)

San Simeon Piccolo

Cannaregio sestiere:

Santa Maria di Nazareth (Gli Scalzi)

Ponte degli Scalzi

La Maddalena

Madonna dell'Orto

La Scuola nuova di Santa Maria della Misericordia

chiesa dell'Abbazia della Misericordia

Ca' d'Oro

chiesa di Santa Maria dei Miracoli

Castello sestiere:

Scuola Grande di San Marco

basilica of Saints John and Paul

chiesa di Santa Maria Formosa

chiesa di Sant'Antonin

Venetian Arsenal

Sotoportego e Corte Delfina

basilica di San Pietro di Castello

Cimitero di San Michele (the island of St Michael)

The Brighter Side of Islands

Burano

Before getting here, I planned spending my birthday roaming aimlessly around Venice, getting lost in its streets. But that is every day in Venice, so instead I bought a 24-hour public transport pass and went to see the islands.

The public transport in Venice is water-based. Aside from the trademark gondolas, there is a variety of yachts, motorboats, and, local signature vehicle, vaporettos. These come in different configurations depending on the routes - the best, in my opinion, have seats on the front, in the open air, serving partly as a tourist transport.

Throughout the trip, the weather in Venice was a bit moody, although thankfully not rainy. Saturday, the 13th, however, happened to be the sunniest day of the trip. Standing outside, wind tangled in my hair, barely able to see anything as sun threw handfuls of golden sparks into my eyes, I intensely enjoyed the feeling of speed, scent of salty water and marshy earth, the old stone and red roofs covering the patches of land scattered here and there.

Sunglasses come handy during such water-trips, unless temporary blindness is a viable option.

First stop was Murano, historical area dedicated to glass factories and, today, featuring numerous showcases of artists that are not unlike museums full of oddest, most peculiar and wondrous glass sculptures. Walking along the quay, it is possible to find an artshop that has free tours on glass sculpture production.

For me, Murano was the area's first glimpse of a true Mediterranean palette: bright whites, pure blues and fresh, light greens. Waiting in line for the tour, I delighted in the view of the lagoon. Festive, clean yachts, all white gleaming surfaces and polished wooden panels the color of dark honey with even darker veins. Neat paths and lanes covered with white smoothly round gravel. Soigne yards with delicately trimmed bushes. Blue-and-white striped mooring posts (aka palines, another one of Venetian symbols on par with gondolas and bridges).

Pomegranate tree full of red fruits - looks just like Charles Demuth's 'Plums' (1925)

The inner Murano has a different feel than the seaside: it's much wider. Besides, Murano has much less canals - I saw literally one, the rest is all streets and inner patios, quiet, serene, bathed in sun and empty; the closest place in Venice must be the northern side of Cannaregio, closer to the old Jewish quarters.

Waiting lines to get out of Murano are enormous. Be prepared to spend at least half an hour, whether you leave for Venice or for Burano, the next-favorite stop.

You can skip Murano if not very interested in glass and in order to save some time. Skipping Burano, on the other hand, is a sin for any traveler.

The houses of this small island are unique: each has its own designated color, which is ruled by the local government to preserve the look of the town - truly a museum under the open roof. Burano is a study of cheerful, bright colors. It's fun catching people in front of houses the color of their clothes.

Burano is widely known for its textiles - the main street running inland from the wharf is covered in the assortment of shops selling lace umbrellas (souvenirs and human-sized), fans, corsets, scarves et cetera. As the shops give way to homey cafes and quaint restaurants, the crowd thins out, flowing along the splitting canals.

Real-life drama broke out on the quay. A Japanese girl dropped her phone into one of the canals - and she actually managed to fish it out using a scoop-net provided by some compassionate local. I was observing while pity and mirth dueled to be plastered all over my face.

Behind the Burano main streets, a much quieter area runs along the quay at the murmurous accompaniment of a street singer playing something sweetly romantic. This is an enchanted area for picnics - spacious green lawns under the rich crowns and low branches of firs, warm pale-yellow sun, cool stone parapet, sprinkles of light glistening off the waves and drops of water from the tumultuous waves, seagulls touching wings over the waters and fast motorboats passing by.

Take off your shoes to enjoy the fresh breeze and let your feet some rest. Have a glass of Prosecco and a seafood salad on the central square of the island, near chiesa di San Martino. Awe at the leaning tower protruding from the colorful rooftops (actually, Italy is full of those; Pisa is just the most famous).

Torcello offers little in comparison - just an old church of Santa Fosca (XI-XII centuries), an even older cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta (639 AD) surrounded by the garden of ancient sculptures (including Trono di Attila) and its belltower with the view of the marshes of the Venetian lagoon (truly makes one imagine what this place was before an empire was built upon the morass). Leisurely crowds stroll to visit the ancient sites, passing by Ponte del Diavolo, an unfinished bridge remarkable for its lack of handrail.

Panorama from the top of Santa Maria Assunta belltower, Torcello

Way back to Venice (and Lido, my final stop on this island run) was marked with sun hovering over the horizon, throwing a haze of pink-blue blanket over the lagoon. In this tremulant light, the dark shadows of palines protrude from the soft waters, ragged and cankered.

Palines mark the waterpaths like the posts of highways; grouped in three, weathered, dark from time and water, partly rotten to the point of only the upper half remaining. They are bizarre, surreal as they bask in the translucent dusk, a mirage reflected in the water amalgamating with the sky.

Lido gained fame for its long beach. Facing the open Adriatic sea, it makes a wonderful case for both sunrises and sunsets. Pity, I was 10 minutes too late for the sunset (I blame the unhurried vaporettos), and instead only caught the last glimpses of it

Staying in Venice, you forget about such integral part of modern life as cars. Not even bicycles make sense on the islands connected with innumerable bridges, most of which have stairs, the tiny streets that at times allow only one person, and the crowds that flock them. For this reason, on Lido, I caught myself staring for consecutive five minutes at a bus, feeling something was wrong but unable to pinpoint what exactly. Until it hit me: people were standing at a crosswalk waiting for the car flow to subside. For a person living in a metropolis, this is a weird feeling to experience.

Lido sports the ambiance of a typical tourist resort near the sea - very unlike the deeply historical, proud and arrogant Venice.

The final touch of the day was dinner at La Colombina, a Michelin restaurant found on the side street of Strada Nova. I relished in the sensation of being cared for: an assortment of traditional Venetian dishes by the recommendation of maitre d'hotel and a glass of white wine offered by a sommelier followed by black coffee served as good as in Sarajevo.

Bridge near San Zaccaria station, Venice

Venice is the water-borne city, and experiencing it from water is an integral and wholesome experience, whether a gondola ride or a trip down Grand Canal (better not to mix those, traffic on the central Venetian waterway is competitive). A night vaporetto shows off the lighting wonders, from the rigorous black-and-white facades to the flirtatious pinks and warm yellows of palaces turned posh hotels.

Getting home from the vaporetto station, I decided I should be able to find the way on my own, without being glued to the screen of my phone. I was wrong, obviously; after an hour I caught myself staring at a vaguely familiar balcony that I passed under ten minutes ago. That was when I realized I've uncovered the true character of Venice and finally let go of all hope finding the way on my own in this city. A profoundly enjoyable awareness.

What to see on the islands:

glass factories and artshops (Murano)

Cometa di vetro (Murano)

chiesa di San Martino and leaning belltower (Burano)

Ponte del Diavolo (Torcello)

chiesa di Santa Fosca

cathedral of Santa Maria Assunta and belltower (Torcello)

Museo di Torcello (garden of sculptures)

Trono di Attila (Torcello)

beach Lido de Venezia

Verona: Consistency Through the Ages

Ponte Pietra, river Adige, Verona

At first I planned on visiting Padua, but a girl at my hotel's reception was surprised enough to convince me to change the destination to Verona, a small, well-preserved medieval town an hour inland away from Venice.

It is my guess that most people come to Verona because of one minor play by some insignificant English playwright. Naturally, I was prepared to pay my respects to Juliet's abode, yet it wasn't the best place I've seen in Verona (it didn't even cut to top ten).

I am weak toward cities that have a clear route encircling all the major attractions, as if it was built for exploration. Verona uncovers historical layers through its architectural milestones. Pre-Christian era is embodied in Roman edifices including the local colosseum, Arena di Verona (third biggest after Rome and Capua), Porta Borsari (ancient gate in the city wall surrounded by medieval houses and oleander bushes) and Teatro Romano, a grim, gray structure across Adige river and up the hill. The Romanesque Cattedrale di Santa Maria Matricolare featuring two reconstructed Paleo-Christian churches and one of the oldest functioning libraries in the world is a study of several ages of early Christianity. The Gothic Arche Scaligere is so intricate one can spend days studying its decorations, and the red-brick Castelvecchio, the powerful square construction of war explains the military aspirations of the Medieval Verona.

Piazza delle Erbe (literally Herb Square) features statues and fountains of different eras dating back to Roman rule through the Middle Ages. The market in the middle of piazza is still selling fresh vegetables and herbs, the epitome of integrity (a pleasant change from modern inconsistency)

In the train, I by chance overheard a conversation by fellow tourists who were also going to Verona and discussing the places to eat. That's how I got my lunch destination. It appears, in Verona, horse meat is a thing.

There's much less people compared to Venice; a breath a fresh air (both figuratively and literally). Quiet old streets, paved in uneven stones, lead to the tumultuous Adige and the white Ponte Pietra.

Compared to Venice, this is real Italy: a river across the town, enchained in high stone walls, manacled by elderly bridges; motley planes along the quay, dappled in summer sunlight; old red brick castle with Gothic merlons along the walls

The walk around the city is calm, warm and fits in the span of several hours. Quite an enjoyable detour.

What to see in Verona:

Porta Nuova

piazza Bra

Arena di Verona

palazzo Barbieri

palazzo della Gran Guardia

Casa di Giulietta

piazza delle Erbe

Madona di Verona

Torre dei Lamberti

piazza dei Signori

Arche Scaligere

chiesa di Sant'Anastasia

Ponte Pietra

Teatro Romano

chiesa dei Santi Siro e Libera

castel San Pietro

cattedrale di Santa Maria Matricolare

chiesa di Sant'Eufemia

Porta Borsari

Castelvecchio and its bridge

Arco dei Gavi

Coming back to Venice, I managed to catch sunset at San Marco. The seagulls here are fierce and beautiful creatures; it's not always a good idea to carry food around

What to eat:

cicchetti (bite-sized snacks common for bacari, traditional Venetian bars)

sarde in saor (pickled fried sardines with onions)

baccala mantecato (cod cream)

risotto al nero di seppia (black rice and seafood)

risi e bisi (rice and peas soup)

bigoli in salsa (pasta with onions and salt-cured fish)

fegato alla veneziana (liver and onions)

moleche (fried small crabs)

scampi alla veneziana (shrimps)

caparossi a scota deo (clams)

scampetti con polenta (baby shrimps served on polenta)

baicoli (biscuits)

fritole venessiane (sweet pastry served during Venetian Carnival)

pincia (sweet pastry)

buranelle (sweet biscuits)

zabaglioni (egg dessert)

What to drink (alcohol is important in Venice - drink your days away):

Aperol Spritz (Venetian signature cocktail, refreshing and fun)

Bellini

Prosecco (white wine, commonly sparkling)

Soave (white wine, good with fish dishes)

Orto di Venezia, Venissa (white wines)

Valpolinella and Amarone (red wines)

vino della casa (homemade wine, usually less expensive and rarely served in traditional wine glasses)

Final Word

Sunset at piazza San Marco

Venice is a city of its own character, sometimes oblivious, sometimes arrogant and condescending - but it surely has the right to be so. Hit some sweet Vivaldi, order a glass of Aperol Spritz at bacaro - and let yourself get lost in this bizarre, lovable chaos.

[aliferous-ly]

Find yourself and grow - bnha

this has nothing to do with the prompt but it inspired this s oooooooooo yup

Kirishima stared at the ceiling. An uncertain sort of energy thrummed through him, his eyes exhausted and bones like jelly but unable to close his eyes, his mind active but muted like a frizzled television.

He didn’t have the energy to get up but he didn’t have the ability to sleep, so Kirishima leaned over and grabbed his phone. Turning it on started a small headache right behind his eyes but Kirishima didn’t know what else to do, so he scrolled through a few social media sites, staring but not seeing.

A snapchat notification appeared at the top of his screen. [BROCCOLI BOI is typing…]

Kirishima narrowed his eyes and waited for the consecutive “BROCCOLI BOI has sent you a snap!”, but it never came.

He went to snapchat anyway, hovering over Izuku’s name for only a second before clicking.

[you] hey i saw u typing u up

Kirishima waited, hoping that Izuku was actually up and that snapchat didn’t glitch on him. Izuku’s profile bubbled, indicating that he was typing, and Kirishima let out a breath of relief.

[BROCCOLI BOI] yea sorry about that haha!

[BROCCOLI BOI] just a lil tired didnt want to bother u

[you] no worries i’m up too

[BROCCOLI BOI] you really should be getting sleep! sleep is incredibly important for lots of things

[you] i could say the same to u bro

[you] why u up?

[BROCCOLI BOI] why r u up?

[you] uh couldnt sleep

[BROCCOLI BOI] me neither

[you] ah

[BROCCOLI BOI] u should go to sleep tho

[you] u first

[BROCCOLI BOI] i can’t

[you] me neither

[you] i’m so tired i can’t get up but i cant fall asleep

[BROCCOLI BOI] wanna hang out in the lobby

[you] i just said im too tired to get up

[BROCCOLI BOI] but ur awake

[BROCCOLI BOI] i can carry u

[you] dude no i’m rlly heavy

[you] comes w the perks of being a literal rock

[BROCCOLI BOI] is that a challenge

[you] i mean go off deku

[BROCCOLI BOI] brt

“Oh my god,” Kirishima said aloud, running a hand down his face. “Oh man.”

Not a minute later he heard knocking before his door swung open, Midoriya genuinely standing in his threshold with All Might pajama pants and a plain red t-shirt.

Kirishima started sitting up, the fatigue receding for a moment as he laughed in shock. “I can’t believe you’re here, Midori– ah!” Kirishima yelped in surprise as Midoriya strode forwards and leaned down, placing his arms under Kirishima’s knees and behind his shoulders, picking him up effortlessly.

“Midoriya!” Kirishima threw his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders in shock, his body tensing instinctively.

A dusting of pink was brushed on Midoriya’s cheeks, but he said, “You aren’t that heavy, you know.”

Kirishima stared at him.

Midoriya shifted, then, looking more and more awkward. “I’m… I’m sorry? Uh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Uh.”

“This is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me,” Kirishima said, in awe. And wow, this was not great for his mini crush, honestly.

Mini. Yeah, okay.

Midoriya’s flush grew deeper but he didn’t set Kirishima down, instead positioning him into a more comfortable hold and stepping away from the bed. “So, uh, to the commons?”

“Let’s go to the rec room,” Kirishima said. The commons was always colder than the rec room, being so close to the entrance.

“The rec room…?” Midoriya said slowly. “There’s…?”

“Holy– okay, Midoriya, prepare to have your mind blown,” Kirishima said, gesturing with one hand for emphasis. “It’s like the commons but with like, way more pillows, and a way better TV, it’s hidden though, and there’s a code, you gotta follow it, okay?”

“Alright,” Midoriya said, laughter in his voice. “Lead the way, then?”

Kirishima flushed and wrapped his arms around Midoriya’s shoulders and neck again. He could probably walk, especially after Midoriya hyping him up about the rec room, but who was he to turn down such a rare experience?

Kirishima led him through the hallways, Midoriya giving him strange looks when he told him to go through the boiler room to get there. They eventually reached a door with a wooden sign. Which, in reality, was more of a wooden slab pinned to the door. Burnt into the wood said “enter if you dare”.

Kirishima exuberantly gestured to the door. “Here it is! All your hopes and dreams behind these hallowed doors!”

Midoriya glanced at him, then turned his gaze pointedly at the wood, a blush creeping up his neck as he muttered, “doubt it.”

“Hey dude, okay, I gotta–” Kirishima struggled out of Midoriya’s arms, now wide-awake and excited. “Initiation. So. You are about to enter the former abode of the hero squad known as Burnout.”

Midoriya hide his smile at Kirishima’s grave expression and jazz hands.

“Burnout found this abandoned room years ago and renovated it. They’re inspirations, really, and there’s rules pinned around the room that we have to follow or the room will reject us,” Kirishima said, nodding seriously. “A main one: no telling teachers. Legend says a member attempted to inform a teacher and they were never seen again…” Kirishima said lowly, then added, “just kidding! They were unable to use their quirk for a few hours. And they lost the trust of everyone else, obviously.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Midoriya said, mind already running through the possible quirks with such a power. It would have to encompass the room, but also be able to effect any who knew about it – including technically him as well, unless the rules weren’t enacted until he entered the room itself. Then the quirk had to be able to cause losing another quirk for a select amount of time by spoken word, maybe? These rules sounded awfully hard to enforce, and –

“’Doriya, my dude,” Kirishima punched him lightly in the shoulder. “Stay with me my man, that was only one.”

“Ah, sorry!” Midoriya blushed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

“Rule number two,” Kirishima said, holding up two fingers. “No fighting. Real fighting, since it can tell the difference, somehow. Quirk usage is okay, but once it gets too… real, you gotta take it outside. That one makes you really tired, I know from experience.”

“…okay,” Midoriya said, deciding life would be easier the less questions he asked. Less time spent talking, the sooner they’d actually go in.

“Those are the most important ones I guess,” Kirishima mused, shrugging. “Alright, Midoriya, initiation over!”

Kirishima pushed the door open and beckoned Midoriya in, letting the door fall shut after Midoriya had entered.

“Welcome to the rec room!” Kirishima said proudly, like he was presenting a personal accomplishment.

The room could hold a decent amount of people while retaining that cozy size, with two couches, two recliners, and an uncountable amount of varying sizes and kinds of beanbags thrown about. Just as Kirishima promised, a large flat-screen sat on one wall, but a minifridge ran softly in the back of the room with a shaded window nearby.

“Wow,” Midoriya breathed. The walls were covered in old boards, giving the room a rustic feel.

Kirishima breezed by him and plopped onto one of the couches, sighing deeply. “Ah, it’s been too long.”

“When were you here last?” Midoriya asked.

“Two days ago,” Kirishima said. “Kaminari found it first, of course, so he told me and Sero, then Ashido because she beat him at arm wrestling, and Bakugou – I think Bakugou found it before all of us, honestly. Todoroki has totally been here before, too, the ice box in the mini fridge is always stocked – and maybe like, Tokoyami? Because that dude knows like, everything.”

Kirishima seemed to melt into the couch as he spoke, movements becoming more and more sluggish until he yawned. Midoriya took a step, hesitation pouring through his veins, because he didn’t want to intrude on Kirishima’s… on Kirishima.

Kirishima looked soft and pliable in a way Midoriya had never seen before, and the normally loud and expressive teen was… quiet, and tired, and yawning.

“Hey dude, wanna play like… video games or something?” Kirishima said.

“Maybe a movie,” Midoriya suggested, eyeing Kirishima’s drooping eyes as he finally made it to the couch and sat down gingerly.

“Dude let’s watch Pacific Rim,” Kirishima said. “You haven’t seen it, right?”

“I haven’t,” Midoriya said.

“Awesome.” Summoning energy from some deep energy source within him, Kirishima lurched from the couch and picked through a stack of movies next to the TV. While Kirishima was getting the movie ready, Midoriya glanced around the room.

Small post-its nailed – yes, nailed – to the wall littered the wood in pale yellow, pink, green, and the occasional green or orange pieces of paper. He read the nearest one to him: “Rule 31: if one of you little shits sticks ONE more piece of bubblegum to the ceiling you’re evicted”.

“Oh, yeah,” Kirishima said, noticing Midoriya’s gaze. “They added rules as time went on.”

Midoriya glanced at another one – a dark purple one with silver sharpie writing, sharp and jagged, with the words “Rule 12: NO SEX IN THIS ROOM YA NASTIES -from your neighborhood ace”.

Midoriya blinked, in surprise, shock, or embarrassment, or possibly a mixture of all three.

“I think the original three uh,” Kirishima cleared his throat. “Made a later member mad.”

“Oh my god,” Midoriya breathed, soft laughter falling from his lips.

Kirishima gazed at him for another second or two before flopping back onto the couch, pressing play. He was notably closer to Midoriya than when Midoriya had initially sat down, their arms almost (almost) brushing.

A few minutes in, Kirishima’s head dropped onto Midoriya’s shoulder.

By the fifteen minute mark, Kirishima was asleep.

Midoriya wasn’t sure how Kirishima managed to sleep through one of the most action-packed movies he’d ever seen, counting the All Might saga, without stirring once.

By the time the movie ended, Midoriya’s shoulder was asleep, but he didn’t dare move Kirishima – he looked softer, relaxed, while he slept, and Midoriya didn’t want to disrupt that.

However, after sitting in complete silence for a few minutes, TV black, Midoriya realized he’d have to move.

“Okay, Kiri,” Midoriya murmured mostly to himself, since Kirishima was sleeping. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

He propped Kirishima against the back of the couch and stood, cracking his back and rotating his shoulders, then leaned down and picked Kirishima up, throwing him over his shoulder. While the princess-hold had been great for dramatic effect and great because Midoriya got to see Kirishima’s expression, he wanted to have an open hand.

The halls were eerily quiet, as it was around three or four in the morning, but Midoriya’s stride was confident. He’d walked these halls at early times before.

Entering Kirishima’s room, Midoriya gently lay the teen on his obnoxiously colored sheets, pulling the comforter over his body and, unable to resist the temptation, gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

He was almost out the door when a quiet, “Midoriya?” sounded from the bed.

He paused, door in hand, and tilted his head. “Yeah?”

“I really…” a yawn, then, “I really like you.”

Midoriya’s cheeks inflamed and he tensed, throat suddenly dry. He turned around completely, to craft a probably embarrassing babble of a response, but Kirishima was already sleeping again.

Midoriya shut the door as silently as he could, then sped-walked back to his room, having a mini-crisis.

He definitely wasn’t getting any more sleep tonight.

[professional-anti]

Chapter Six: Forsaken

Chapter Six: Forsaken Aka Nazgûl. Anyhoo, Clary meets Alec and Jace in the weapons room. Alec is still hardcore judging her, but honestly, at least he’s not sucking her dick like Hodge. Our parabatai/parabros are polishing some seraph blades made by ppl Jace calls the Iron Sisters. I wonder if they’ll come back up, or if this is just another unnecessary detail.

Clary asks the perfectly reasonable question of if the blades are made by magic, and Jace shits on mundanes:

“The funny thing about mundies,” Jace said, to nobody in particular, “is how obsessed they are with magic for a bunch of people who don’t even know what the word means.”

Um,,,,, this means what exactly? mag·ic ˈmajik/ noun noun: magic 1 1. 
the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.

So far, everything has been supernatural. Please tell me, Jace, about your super speshul definition of magic that will totally be nothing like this definition.

“Magic is a dark and elemental force, not just a lot of sparkly wands and crystal balls and talking goldfish.”

Clary rightfully gets annoyed at him bc he’s been fucking ridiculous. Asking if some crazy angel knives were made by magic is nothing like asking about sparkly wands and crystal balls and flue powder whatever the hell else Jace wants to bitch about. Also, steles? Wands. Crystal balls will probably come up. Talking goldfish? Give it time. Jace gives a suberdumb comparison metaphor that I’m not even gonna type out. Clary tells Jace that’s he’s driveling, and I wish she’d go off like this more. Alec unexpectedly joins team Clary and tells her that they don’t do magic.

????????? What do you call your steles and runes, then??????????? They’re literally spells??????? Cassie has just come up with this random definition of magic that makes no sense and leaves a lot of other stuff undefined. If steles aren’t magic, what are they?????

Clary asks Jace to take her to her apartment and ohhhhhhh I get it. Alec is jealous bc he has a crush on Jace. Why, Alec?? You could do so much better!! And you will do better!!! Alec is my BFF rn bc I also have a crush on my straight best friend, rip me. It’s just gay culture. But Jace shouldn’t even be into Clary. They just met. Gag me with a spoon.

Jace admits that he wasn’t totally sure that Clary was a Shadowhunter before using the stele on her, but it seems like she would have died if he hadn’t done it, so idk. I’m mad, but I got bigger problems, you know what I’m saying?

CLARY SLAPS HIM. CLARY SLAPS HIM. CLARY SLAPS HIM.

(source: https://giphy.com/gifs/harry-potter-hermione-granger-draco-malfoy-okjBrdrg20LZu)

Go OFF. Okay, so Jace goes into “an angry silence”. Boo hoo. Clary feels guilty and I’m gonna slap HER bc no one needed a slap more than Jace. All he’s done so far is mock her and make her feel bad!! It isn’t Witty Banter or Flirting, it’s just rude AF. But I’m glad the narrative seems to realize that, at least a little. It still won’t stop Clary from falling in love with him, sigh.

Ohhhhhh noooo we get some of that “Clary isn’t like other girls!” bullshit:

Farther down the train, two teenage girls sitting on an orange bench seat were giggling together. The sort of girls Clary had never liked at St. Xavier’s, sporting pink jelly mules and fake tans. Clary wondered for a moment if they were laughing at her, before she realized with a start of surprise that they were looking at Jace.

Bc girls who like boys are always Sluts and Skanks who wear those ugly jelly mules and get *gasp* tans!! There’s nothing inherently wrong with giggling or wearing fashionable shoes (were these fashionable in 2007? I was but a child then) or getting fake tans. But Cassie is doing this to show us that these are the stereotypical girls, and stereotypical girls are annoying and boy-crazy and not to be trusted. Clary is short, remember? She’s Not Like Other Girls.

Also, what is the deal with Jace? I’m legit confused. I’ve never seen a man so attractive that I had to stop and giggle out loud with my friends. We might whisper or text about it, but boys, contrary to popular belief, don’t send girls into tailspins. And if a boy does? There’s nothing wrong with the girl. She’s not dumb for giggling!!!

Ohhh boy.

She remembered the girl in the coffee shop who had been staring at Simon. Girls always got that look on their faces when they thought someone was cute.

Always. We always get that look on our faces when we see someone attractive. Does CC realize that girls are not a homogenous group? And remember, Clary’s not putting herself in the group of girls. She’s too special for that look. That’s for the airhead girls. (This is why it’s totally possible for CC to write Anti-Semitic crap, btw. Bc as we see here, she also writes sexist crap.)

Clary angsts for a little bit about how Jace’s looks are so different from Alec’s “cameo looks” (???) and then daydreams about Jace’s eyes. They have some dumb banter about the girls. Jace explains about Alec being his parabatai which is just a fancy term for fighting partners. I WANT CLARY AND ISABELLE TO BE PARABATAI but these books are sexist so I doubt it but OMG YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS MY SHIP NOW. BC IT’S THE EXACT OPPOSITE OF WHAT CC WANTS AND I DON’T CARE!!!!

*Happy sigh* (this video warmed my cold bisexual heart)

Okay. Back to business. Jace says that the Lightwoods are his adopted family, and they get to her apartment. Jace pulls out the Sensor and explains that it senses demons/demon energy. Who designs these? Why is it the only thing we’ve seen so far that merges magic and tech? Is Elba all a merge of magic and tech? If Shadowhunters can merge magic and tech, why do they use such archaic weapons? Who designs the magical technology? I have so many questions and I’m sure approximately none of them will be answered.

They go into the apartment and all the furniture has been removed. Everything’s weirdly cold, and when she tries to go into her room, the door punches her or something. It’s a little unclear. There’s a giant in the apartment!! Jace tries to fight the giant and rushes Clary out of the apartment. They very cleverly shut the front door, and the giant bangs right through it. Jace falls down the stairs fighting it and breaks his arm, so I guess it’s time for some poorly written hurt/comfort. Also, the seraph blades are disposable??? And you have to name them before using them, and I’m not sure where these names are coming from. Like, you name it, and then a blade bursts out of a hollow tube. I’m honestly imaging these:

Ugh, AP Bio labs were the WORST. Jace tells Clary not to watch bc she’s a child I guess and kills the giant. Then he draws a rune on his skin that heals him, so I stand corrected on the hurt/comfort front. Clary has a random memory of her mother being covered in faded scars that look like Jace’s faded rune, and, even knowing what she does now about glamor and magic shit, goes “oh, but that’s not really what her back looked like.”

I think Clary might actually be really dumb?

Clary’s also fucking shocked that Jace’s arm is healed and it’s just. She knows about runes. She knows about demons and giants and people who are half angel, and this still gets her?

It turns out that the guy isn’t actually a giant, just a former person who was drawn on with a stele. Now he’s one of the Nine Riders, in thrall to a ring…ahem. Forsaken are controlled by the ppl who drew on them with their magic sharpies. Jace starts to go upstairs to check for more, and Madame Dorothea pops out like: “There are more where that came from!” Umm. It’s a pretty small apartment, no? I feel like they already checked everywhere.

Jace gets really confused bc even though he explained to Clary that witches are mundanes who can do some magic not a single chapter ago, he still doesn’t understand how Madame Dorothea knows anything. Dory gets dramatic about the Clave, which I appreciate. They suck. Then Dory tells Clary to forget about her mom, and Clary understandably freaks out. Dory’s all, I’m not getting involved, hun. But then Jace threatens her with the Silent Brothers, and she invites them in. She also drops Jace’s real name, Wayland, and Jace is like, Yo wtf.

Anyway, they go in. The end.

[amwritingmeta]

13x07: Let’s Talk About How Pink+Blue=Purple

I noticed something and it made me bounce, so imma share it with you! Okay, so there’s this pattern, right? A colour pattern (ohhh how apt) that keeps popping up all over the place, right? Yeah, so this pattern is the colour pink appearing in relation to Dean being honest or doing something non-performing. Sometimes the colour blue is part of it - usually when Cas is clearly involved in the situation - or the colour purple ((oh that’s a good movie)) is sometimes also part of the context. However, it’s been rare - as far as I know, I’ve just started noticing this so I honestly could not pinpoint more than the few examples I’ve gathered, but it’s consistent - to see all three colours together. 

Like this -->

So yeah, clearly these colours have always been significant on this show. Blue has always been tied to Cas through his blue tie and Pink has been tied canonically to Dean through the pink panties (now there’s a suddenly too suggestive sentence) (ahemmmmm) (#nothingstoosmutty) and together they make purple. Of course! What’s more? Here’s what I believe these colours represent:

Pink --> non!performing Dean aka honesty

Blue --> faith/hope/happiness

Purple --> inner balance

Purely my interpretation! But here are some examples of how these colours have been used -->

4x18

Hot pink and blue are connected to Dean’s first show of faith. Dean bangs that blue vending machine because it can’t give him what he wants, but it’s linked to what he wants, which is to feel like there’s hope. And so he gives in and prays, and the real source of blue appears: Cas. 

“This is a good thing, Dean,” Cas tells Dean, and look how good things do happen when you open yourself up to the possibility, when you dare to believe they might: you find a way to save your brother from sleeping with evil incarnate. (yay dean!!)

11x13

This is an episode which is so rich in Dean exposition that the mind boggles. I mean, here’s an episode that begins with Dean hungover after having a cheap one night stand on Valentine’s Day and positively craving bacon (eating his own suppressed desires) and he returns in the scene that this gif is from having told Sam he was going to try and get lucky, having failed miserably and being told he has a “dad bod” (he’s getting too old for this shit is what that is meant to tell us) (and he does not really want cheap one night stands anymore) (which is what this episode is all about underlining) 

By the end of the episode the qareen appears in the shape of Amara because it’s the one thing Dean can’t resist: women and numbing his real longing with something ultimately meaningless, all of that random sex nothing more than an emotional bandaid for what he really wants. And Dean actually daring to want something for himself, and wanting it as much as he truly truly wants Cas, leaves him with such deep shame, bringing out such a hardwired ability to deny his own feelings, that it actually cloaks Cas from the qareen. 

(which is why he needs Mildred - his spirit guide - to call him out on denying the fact that he’s pining)

Look what colour is sat on top of the book that tells them they’re dealing with a qareen:

Yup. Purple. Because the qareen brings the truth, and the truth means balance, and balance, to me, is the colour purple. (where’s the blue here then?) (it’s hidden isn’t it?) (but it’s still so very present)

So the point of the motel being pink is that this is where Dean drops the whole Lady Killer act, it’s where he instead kisses Melissa to save her life and it’s where he confesses to Sam that he doesn’t think he can kill Amara, but that he knows that whatever it is he feels for her isn’t love, or even desire.

He’s getting too damn tired to pretend to be something he’s not. (see what I did there?) (the name of the motel is Too Tired) (.....) 

Anyway, in this pink coded motel, Dean tells the truth. He drops the performance.

12x07

A woman in a hot pink blouse walks past with a dog on a blue leash right before we get -->

--> bisexual cucumber water.

*slow eyebrow raise*

12x22

Of course we all know these pink lights! @tinkdw pointed them out while we were watching the finale and holy moly! Dean choosing to fire that grenade launcher, and effectively save his own and Sam’s life, is symbolic of Dean tearing down his walls and setting them both free, and it’s fucking glorious. But what else is in this scene? 

Well, Dean is actually wearing a proper red-and-black checkered plaid shirt in this episode, right? An honest-to-God lumberjack shirt. And do you know where it is when he fires the grenade launcher?

See that purple smudge in this rapid shot? That’s Dean’s lumberjack shirt. With that blue light shining on it. So in this shot we literally have all the colours of the bisexual flag, right? Yes, we do. 

(and one is made by the lumberjack shirt) (THE FUCKING LUMBERJACK SHIRT) (get it??) (Cas has in this season called Dean out for the way he dresses to the point of affecting how Dean thinks he should dress and here Dean is saying FUCK IT I LIKE LOOKING LIKE A LUMBERJACK ((and of course Cas likes him looking like a lumberjack too)) ((that’s the whole point of that exchange)) ((Dean calling Cas a third tier agent because he finds him hot as fuck and wants to deflect from this fact)) and Dean saying Fuck It I Like Looking Like a Lumberjack is done visually in more than one scene in this episode where he is literally going through huge steps towards self-liberation) (I mean there should be more than one visual representation of Cas in there, right, since Cas is so integral to any of this actually taking place...) (and so we have the red lumberjack shirt becoming purple because BLUE LIGHT IS FUCKING SHINING ON IT WHAT THE FUUUUUCK???) (okay moving on from the fucking lumberjack detail but FFS ARE THEY KIDDING??)

13x01

Sam talks about Cas and this flare of pink/blue/purple appears. Yeah, I know, we’ve screamed and screamed about it because it’s so amazing. 

13x05

Flashing pink lights along Dean’s face (none along Sam’s, which made me react to it as more deliberate than not) (everything is fucking deliberate) as he opens up to Sam about having met Death and all the reasons why he can’t believe anymore. He wants to, but he can’t. He needs a damn win. (then there are flashing blue/pink lights on police cars all over that scene as well) And now - cue a phone call and -->

--> this flash of purple.

Mh-hmh.

13x07

The darling @margarittet observed they were bringing on the bi-colours again (they put them on Dean’s computer screen in a deleted scene from S12 as well) and I just went YASSSS. 

(is Dean and Sam both wearing a salmon pinkish colour here or is Dean’s shirt actually more orange?) (I cannot make up my mind) (Sam should wear all the pink) (he’s such a closet shipper) (ooooohhhhh SNAP)

Okay, so now we land in the moment that made me go ommmmmhhhhhh I need to sit in the corner and gather myself together (not really) (or did I?) because FUCKING LOOK AT THIS -->

Look what’s in the shot when Cas tells Dean “Yes, I would like to see you, too. The sooner the better.”

See it? See the three colours there in perfect harmony? Blue, purple, pink!!! *claps hands and dances my lovelies* *we DANCE*

Because, of course, Cas is actually telling the truth here. For the first time in ten fucking years he’s actually expressing his emotions honestly right into the ear of Dean Winchester. Oh my fucking God I can barely breathe with the excitement that what we get as a backdrop are these three colours TOGETHER, because I sincerely believe the only other time we’ve actually had them in a shot together is the above one when Dean fires off the grenade launcher. (but don’t take my word for it) (I’m going to have to do a proper dig to be able to substantiate it!!) 

So that said, here’s a disclaimer: this is all theory based in my observations and, honestly, these observations may lead to jack squat. Though, if Jerry Wanek is to be believed - everything on this show is fucking intentional.

And also, there’s this from the Spectacular Spectacular 10x05 -->

Where the “real world” monster, the monster that is actually written in by the actual writers of the show - rather than the gorgeous fan produced version taking place on stage - explodes in a gooey cloud of purple and drenches the unsuspecting audience, apart from one guy who anticipated it: that one guy would be us who actually see what’s coming - thanks for filling me in on this fact @bluestar86!! 

So to me here we have purple representing the pink and the blue getting together at the end of this story, exploding purple all over the world. 

(yes, they will)

And ponchos at the ready, peeps! 

Or maybe we’ll skip them? Let’s go swimming!!