#poetics of encryption

[kustavglimt]

Eva and Franco Mattes: Panorama Cat (2022)

[theweightofdivinity]

I’ve become the hand that no longer throws.

I’ve stepped out of the game.

[kumkaniudaku]

Midterm

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

Reading a congratulatory email with kind words and instructions to sign a lucrative offer was easy. Simply slip out of your third boring morning meeting, disappear into the surprisingly vacant courtyard, and spend no less than 30 minutes oscillating between excitement and sheer panic while clicking through pages of contracts to add your digital signature to an encrypted document. Kelvin followed the plan to the letter and then some. 

The hard part was stifling the urge to scream at the birds and trees during peak business hours. 

Voice low and eyes shifting in search of potential eavesdroppers, he sat in pensive silence to contemplate the gravity of his decision. In a little over a month, he'd be a Chicago resident. He'd wake up in his Chicago apartment, walk the Chicago streets, pass by Chicagoans on the way to his Chicago office, and then grab dinner ingredients at a Chicago grocery store. His license would change. Mail would need a new forwarding address. Updated voter registration, new doctors, a change in insurance, learning a transit system; change after change both excited and unnerved Kelvin all at once.

Part of him wanted to barge into his Head of Creative's office and slam his resignation on the table before clicking his heels together on the way out the door. Fuck this job. New and greener pastures were on the horizon! The other part, the terrified part of him that'd been worried sick since Saturday morning, couldn't even say the words out loud for fear that the wooden benches would absorb and tell his secret before he'd had time to craft poetic, well-thought-out lines. 

In his mind, Kelvin thought he'd managed to maintain an impenetrable poker face. To a stranger or work acquaintance unschooled in Kelvin-ology, he could come across as convincing enough to overlook. For Asia, watching him from the communal kitchen, worry causing his knee to bounce in triple time told a different story. 

"You know you can just go out there and talk to him, right?" Savannah's sarcastic introduction to an otherwise quiet moment cut through Asia's brain fog enough to garner attention as she shifted her weight from one side to the other. "I'm joking," Savannah laughed, trying to ease the tension between them. Asia's quick glance at the back of Kelvin's head provided the final number of a winning lottery sequence. "Wow, you really like him. Like, you two are a couple! I knew it." 

Asia tried to remain casual as she crossed her arms and shrugged. "What are you talking about? Kel is my work friend." 

"Must be a hell of a work friend for you to spend the night from his place. I noticed the cabinets, but I couldn't confirm until later that day when Kelvin took a meeting from the same place." 

Savannah's cheeky grin sparked fear in Asia's heart. Widening her eyes, she craned her neck to see who may have heard her business in the area.

She leaned closer, keeping her voice low as she spoke. "You can't say that out loud," she cautioned. "We're being discreet!" 

"Love you so much, Asia, but literally everyone knows."

"Everyone like who?" 

"Asia," Savannah reiterated. "Every. One. The main crew has a group chat and everything. You just won me $20 bee-tee-dubbs. I'll share, promise."

Panic should've set in for Asia. Maybe dread and a tinge of fear. They'd broken another rule and crossed another carefully considered boundary in the pursuit of each other. Asia should've been nervous about how their not-so-secret pining had run through the office rumor mill and what it might mean for perceptions of her professionalism as one of the few Black women in the building. But relief was the only emotion worth exploring in the immediate aftermath of Savannah's revelation. 

No more hiding. No more planning entrances five minutes apart or driving separate vehicles in busy morning traffic when one would suffice. They could share dinner leftovers during lunch and stop sneaking quiet giggles at jokes shared via text. No more hiding. 

Relief helped Asia slowly release the extra air tightening her lungs and expanding her chest. She nodded at nothing in particular. "I expect my cut in all ones. It's for our strip club fund." 

"Oooh, spicy," Savannah sang, stepping closer to speak in a hushed whisper. "So… how's it going with you two? How different is personal time Kelvin from work Kelvin?" 

"Uh, I mean, you know. He's…you know." 

Any sense of calm that offered a reprieve from an onslaught of complicated feelings was quickly replaced by the need to run out of the room and vomit. Knowing was one thing. Asking questions and wanting the scoop on something Asia deemed sacred and untouchable in conversation beyond what she chose to share was different. 

Words sputtered from her lips as she tried to offer an explanation vague enough to get Savannah off her ass. The quiet roar of glass panes sliding on a metal track clipped Asia's start-and-stop sentence, turning all attention to Kelvin as he stepped in, looking like he'd just had his heart ripped in two and was trying but failing to keep his emotions intact. Savannah didn't seem to notice when she flagged him over. Asia couldn't take her eyes off his frown and sullen expression. Kelvin knew his face had betrayed him as soon as he was close enough for a thorough look at the questions knitting Asia's brows together. 

Trying to play it cool, he swiftly pulled his hand out of his pocket and offered a wave to both ladies. "What's up?" A greeting he'd used a million times suddenly sounded bizarre. First mistake. 

"Hiii!" Savannah's severe lack of subtly pulled a reluctant laugh from Kelvin before he shifted his gaze to focus on Asia. 

"Asia. You good?" 

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. What about you? You good?" 

"I'm good now, yeah." 

Anxieties feasting on his mind momentarily paused in reverence for Asia's presence. A true breath of fresh air. One he'd fight tooth and nail to keep in his life, distance be damned. 

Savannah stood between the pair and their smitten grins, looking back and forth to see who'd make the first move. "This is just the cutest shit ever. I can't take it." Googly eyes slowly turned into blank stares aimed in her direction. Hint taken. "No, you're so right. I should get out of here. Asia, remember to put the thing on the slide at some point. In the one deck."

"Bye, Savannah!" Kelvin and Asia watched Savannah awkwardly scurry off to do only God knows what until they were safely alone. 

Without a buffer to fill in the gaps, all the nausea-inducing worry from the morning's events came flooding back for Kelvin in another crushing wave. Had he been thinking straight, he would've opted to save such delicate news for the privacy of his living room when all the thoughts sitting jumbled like Soul Train board letters were sorted into the proper place. Unfortunately, life-changing information sure to shake the still-wet foundation on which they'd built their relationship ran off with his rationale long ago. 

Kelvin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when words didn't come out. He tried again. Then, one more time before finally forcing, "I have…something to tell you," into the atmosphere. 

Asia tilted her head in curiosity. "So do I. Is yours good news or bad news?" 

"Doesn't matter," he answered, trying to smile through the rapid thudding in his ears. "You go first." 

Don't press, Asia. Resist! An inner monologue determined to usher Asia away from the sins of her past forced back 101 questions to make way for her surprise. "You know how the Moët client is looking for new artists for that summer series activation?" Kelvin nodded, vaguely remembering project details he'd contributed to in a past life. Asia reached into her back pocket to showcase two laminated passes on lanyards. "I convinced Chris and Sid to give me their passes so we could pull up. Now, we don't have to go all the way to Australia to see RINI. Fun, right?" 

Kelvin recognized the big reveal as something he should be excited about. And, had present circumstances not reared its ugly head, he'd have no trouble sharing Asia's toothy grin and silly dance. He tried to fight the heavy haze clouding his day by raising his hand for a high five and flashing a vacant smile. "That's great, baby. I'm excited. Really." 

So much for honesty.

Asia couldn't hide her skepticism, pushing her eyebrows high, and Kelvin couldn't hide his discomfort, which made him fidget with the contents of his front pockets.  

"Yeah," Asia answered, disappointment in his half-assed reaction instantly stealing the light in her eyes and turning her bright smile into a shell of itself. "Um, what was your news? Anything good?" 

Tact was never Kelvin's strong point. Breakups over text and ghosting were more his speed, no matter how much he hated that fact about himself. What everyone else saw as sleazeball behavior reserved for fuckboys deserving of eternal banishment to hell, he saw as protecting feelings. 

Promises were promises, and Asia was worth more than slipping back into bad habits. Kelvin had to rip the band-aid and deal with the residual blood later. "Remember the Chicago job?" he asked, wringing his hands.

Oh no. Intuition and a random tarot reader told Asia to be on the lookout for roadblocks, but, dammit, she thought that meant traffic on the interstate or an annoying client ask, not the nagging tug of the Midwest. 

"Yeah," she answered cautiously. 

Kelvin adjusted the hydrant-red beanie on his head and sighed. Rip. The. Band-Aid. "They…called me back with all my negotiation demands met. And…”

"You took the job." 

Patience was never Asia's virtue. Why beat around the bush when they could lay all the bad shit on the table and try to salvage a few pieces good enough to keep for fond memories later? 

"Yeah." The finished sentence turned an abstract concept into reality, weighing so heavily on him that he found looking Asia in the eye and lifting his head too difficult. He repeated after her in a low, measured voice, "I took the job." 

Suddenly, Asia couldn't help but hyper-fixate on her surroundings. The low hum of two French door refrigerators holding employee lunches was annoying. It always had been, but today, it sounded like an army of flies buzzing around the mess Kelvin's news had created. Distant laughter made her nostrils flare. How dare someone find joy in a time like this? The kitchen was too big and too open to contain the grief rising within her. Then, the stupid ping of notifications on Kelvin's phone threatened to blow her gasket. The stimuli converged simultaneously, bringing fresh tears to prickle at her waterline. 

Asia forced them all back while Kelvin waited for her to say something to prove she didn't hate him. She extended a closed fist in his direction to match a closed-mouth smile. "Congratulations, Kel. I'm so proud of you. If we were somewhere else, I'd hug you." 

"Hug me to sneak in for a choke or a real hug?" 

"A real one," Asia chuckled, the sound of it returning to her stilted and lacking the mirth she intended. "I know you're bored here. You gotta do what you gotta do, right?" 

Past all the hurt feelings and rage bubbling in her chest, Asia couldn't allow herself to stomp out Kelvin's fire with negativity. She'd save that for a tearful phone call with Sabrina or a good cry in the shower. Kelvin needed reassurance that he'd made the right decision, not the moaning and wailing she had planned for a moment alone. 

"Yeah…" Kelvin paused to scan Asia's face for any sign of an impending adverse reaction but found none before he answered. Nothing. Not a shred of any identifiable emotion presented itself to Kelvin. Anxiety gripped him again. "Asia, don't shut me out. I know you have questions and fuckin' feelings. C'mon. Don't leave me out here by myself." 

"Not here." An almost undetectable waver in her voice was enough to shatter Kelvin's heart into a million pieces. He watched her blink back tears to speak again. "Can we just be happy, please? For a little longer?" 

He sighed, accepting defeat. "Okay." A mental reminder to add 'needs a moment before tough conversations' to his running list of things to know about Asia ran through his brain like neon letters on a marquee. 

His index and middle fingers brushed across his puckered lips, collecting affection he quickly passed on to Asia. She kissed the spot his lips once occupied as a silent promise to revisit the subject when heightened emotions had time to return to baseline. 

"You hungry? My treat." 

An olive branch. Collective ease passed between them once Kelvin flashed a toothy grin at Asia and gestured ahead of him toward the courtyard doors. "After you."

What Kelvin couldn't have in her raw, unfiltered thoughts, he was more than happy to gain in a spare moment of mindless chatter over sushi a block away. 

Something was better than nothing. 

If left up to Asia, Chicago and all its complications would disappear because of her commitment to ignoring them.

City sounds and radio chatter on Saturday evening had spent more time filling silent gaps of conversation than Kelvin and Asia had for two straight days. The elephant in the room quickly became the elephant at the dinner table late Thursday night when Asia side-stepped the topic to discuss Married at First Sight instead, the elephant in the bedroom when the thought of Chicago kept her mind wandering too much to enjoy Kelvin feasting between her legs, and the elephant in the backseat while she pretended not to notice her boyfriend stealing glances at the red light.

Given the chance, Asia could avoid broaching the topic for weeks. Kelvin, on the other hand, couldn't ignore issues festering into resentment day by day. Before long, he'd carefully label boxes and precious belongings to ship to their new home. Being on the brink of drastic change without a resolution wasn't an option.

Standstill traffic and a small car accident separating them from their destination provided the perfect opportunity to catch Asia in close quarters and force the issue. Kelvin took a deep breath and slowly turned the volume down on one of Tyler the Creators' piano-heavy tracks, earning a confused side-eye for his behavior. 

"Everything okay," Asia asked, shifting her body towards Kelvin so he could feel the full weight of her annoyance. 

He shrugged. "You tell me, Asia. I'm not the one tiptoeing around some really important shit right now. Is everything okay?" 

"Kelvin, not right now. We can talk about it when we get back tonight." 

Arms crossed at her chest, and a deep frown sent Asia retreating into herself, frustrating Kelvin to the point of no return. When he imagined the first roadblock in their relationship, hogging the covers or choosing the thermostat's temperature came to mind. He expected little hurdles to make room for the big stuff. The relationship-altering, make-or-break whammies either strengthened a couple or sent them careening toward total implosion. This behemoth was a tsunami of complications he didn't expect but wouldn't allow to throw him off course. 

"You said that last night and the night before. I'm tired of 'tonights!' It's happening, Asia! We can't get around the shit. So, talk to me right now!" Kelvin's body vibrated in time with his hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel until he practiced in and out deep, soothing breaths brought him back off the ledge. Asia watched his shoulders slowly slump away from his ears before he reached over to rest a warm palm on her inner thigh to stroke his thumb against smooth denim, his eyes apologetic as he looked over at her. "I didn't ask you to be with me for no reason. Can we talk about what all this means for us?" 

Asia rested her hand atop his to twist the ring on his finger while she tried to gather words and explanations she'd practiced for days on end. "I don't know." 

In all her soul-searching and reckoning with the inevitable, she realized that she had no idea what the next steps were. 

She always had the answers, the plan, and the foresight to know how to proceed in any situation. This one, though – this flurry of warm feelings filled with complicated explanations and head-spinning romance – she couldn't figure out. Not even when she turned to practical skills and timeline plotting to make it all make sense. 

I don't know. Kelvin wasn't sure what he expected when he decided to corner Asia for an answer, but that wasn't it. Not knowing was worse than not caring. He could deal with the finality of no longer giving a fuck. However, the uncertainty in what he thought was a reasonably black-or-white scenario was unnerving. Kelvin let the gut punch settle until Asia spoke again to soothe the pain she'd inflicted.

"How…how would it work," She questioned in a small voice, her eyes low to avoid cracking the nerve she'd built. "Tell me you have a plan. Because, if you don't, I –" 

Kelvin rushed to reassure her. "I have a plan. Trust me." For once in his life, Kelvin was moving intentionally. No stone left unturned; no possibility left up to chance. "I leave in six weeks. Give me two to get my shit together, and you're on the first flight into O'Hare." 

"And after that?" 

"We'll talk every morning and every night. Then I'm on my way to you every other week, baby. And every other month, I'll make sure you get to me. Nonstop flight. The price doesn't matter. All you need is a packed suitcase. Or not. You can be naked the whole time. That's fine by me." 

Two nonstop flights a month, airport pickups and drop-offs every other week, Fridays in, Monday mornings out, constant connection over the phone when the physical was out of the question—simple enough. There was no fluff, only a concerted effort to make a less-than-ideal situation work. The happiness didn't have to die if they didn't let it. 

Still, Asia wrestled with separating idyllic assumptions from reality. What happened when schedules presented challenges? Or when the weather interrupted? Did distance make the heart grow fonder or help intertwined lives push away the realities of life together hundreds of miles apart. 

Kelvin could see the wheel turning for Asia while she mulled over his proposal from every angle. "Give me a little more time, okay?" Deflating. The air in Kelvin's sails came through his nose in a disappointed huff just as traffic began to pick up enough for steady motion. She held his hand in place, hoping he could feel the intention behind her hesitancy. "I'm not closing the door on us. I need to make sure we're prepared. That's all." 

The absence of an enthusiastic yes wasn't a no – another tidbit to add to Kelvin's growing Asia file. He'd have to find comfort in the details to keep her in his life. And damn, did he want to keep her in his life. His plan had more legs, including a permanent address change for Asia. 

"That's okay. Take your time," he answered as he laced their fingers together and brought the back of her hand to his lips. "Just don't leave me hanging like that again." 

"I won't. I'm sorry."

Relationships came with a learning curve Asia had to experience to understand. No one in her life had prepared her for conflict resolution. Being an only child taught her how to play by herself and keep her secrets close to her chest. There was nothing in the manual about coexisting with another human she cared for more and more each day. She didn't know how to share items or feelings. But Kelvin made her want to try. That had to count for something. 

Once tense quiet returned to the comfortable, wordless quality time Kelvin and Asia had come to enjoy, it followed them for miles to the venue until the need to mix and mingle took center stage. 

In a room full of strangers intermixed with a few familiar faces, they moved around like a couple for the first time. Introductions as a tandem flowed naturally. Seeing them move from group to group hand in hand amused but didn't surprise team members who'd long had their suspicions confirmed by Savannah. 'Alvin' as one member of the group named them. Not their preferred choice, but good enough for the moment. 

As alcohol flowed and inhibitions were disarmed, smooth crooning and soul-stirring baselines from the artist of the hour pushed tomorrow's problems further down the road. 

Kelvin kept a hand on Asia's hip while she allowed her body to sway along with RINI's soulful cover of Leon Bridges' "That's What I Love." Hearing his voice beyond the warbling of his JBL speaker from Asia blasting music far too loudly reminded Kelvin of the first time she shared her new favorite artist with him. She made him listen to Ultraviolet twice all the way through, forcing him to commit more lyrics to memory than he ever did for any other artist. Truthfully, the music didn't hit the same when she wasn't in the room. He tried listening on his own, but it was missing something or someone to add the depth he needed to make the album spin worth his time. 

Applause filled the room just after the final strum of RINI's guitar reverberated. Asia beamed from a spot toward the back. Asia claimed she was fine where she was, but Kelvin knew she was too scared to get close and act like a crazed fan. His lips found her temple for a quick kiss as RINI prepared to end his showcase. 

"I gotta find a way to get out to the States more. This is great," he laughed, causing the audience to join him. "My time is ending, but I can't go without singing the song that put me on your radar. Big thanks to Moët for letting me spend some time with you tonight. I'm excited to get to work this summer. Until then, this is Meet Me in Amsterdam. I hope you enjoy."

Asia couldn't contain her squeal, earning a low laugh from Kelvin once the open notes of her favorite song began. 

I would sail across the world

Row this boat from dusk till dawn

Kelvin and Asia had heard the song plenty of times together, so much so that Kelvin was tired of its slow drone and accompanying music video. Both RINI and Meet Me in Amsterdam were on his list of things he could live without and still die a happy man. 

Until the lyrics started to circle too close to home. A plea for the songwriter's love to make the leap and meet him in a foreign land felt like a page ripped directly from Kelvin's journal. Had he possessed the talent, he would've sung into Asia's ear while she leaned against him, caught in the rapture of beautiful lyrics. 

She didn't need Kelvin's additional vocal performance to know her partner had fallen victim to the magic. She was right there with him, letting the music speak where neither her heart nor mind could reach. 

Won't you come closer; let it take over

I don't need anything; I just want you

"I just want you." The words came out before Asia could stop them. She was never one to fall into the melodrama of romance, but maybe she'd never had an adequate opportunity. Maybe all she needed was a few glasses of white wine and a man looking back at her like universes formed in her eyes to give in to what she'd always considered unrealistic and a little corny. 

Kelvin wrapped an arm around her waist before dipping his head to meet her parted lips as she craned her neck to get a better look at his face. "You got me." 

Turning in his arms, she faced him head-on. "I want to try. For you. Let's make it work." 

"Every other week. I swear."

"I know. I believe you." 

Rolling waves filled with blinding passion set their bodies aflame, connecting them for a kiss too searing to start and end in a room full of people. Some things were best experienced behind doors clumsily kicked closed after Kelvin and Asia burst through the door of his apartment connected at the mouth. 

Small items clattered on the ground as they bumped into the wall, sending anything not bolted to Kelvin's entryway table scattering in the darkness. The moonlight streaming through his balcony door was the only light to illuminate their path. They couldn't care less. Kissing and fondling were their only priorities on the way to shedding extraneous clothing. 

The bedroom was too far, and the couch didn't provide enough leverage for what Kelvin wanted to do for Asia. The counter was too high off the ground, unfortunately. The table, though, was perfect. 

Kelvin thanked God for weightlifting as he hoisted Asia up into his arms, tongues still dancing as he walked them across the room. Asia used her forearm to swipe decorative mats and rattan charger plates to the floor so her backside could fill the empty space. 

Soft panting and the light smack of lips coming together and separating rhythmically filled charged cold air. Asia flinched when Kelvin slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt to reach her bra's front clasp. 

"Take this off. Hurry up," Kelvin demanded as he stepped back to pull his crewneck over his head.  He didn't have time for frilly language and sweet kisses. Maybe later, when they'd calmed down from their high. This first fuck was for all the sessions they'd missed between quiet nights in and words left unsaid. A little something to take the edge off. 

Zippers sliding down, garments rustling, and leather sliding out of thin loops made Kelvin's apartment sound like a department store dressing room until they were reconnected in mind and body.

Half-dressed with goosebumps pebbling an expanse of rich brown skin, lovers let their hands roam freely while they grinded against each other. 

Asia moaned at the feel of teeth gently tugging her bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. "C'mon, Kel. Right now," she rushed on in one breath. "I need it." 

"What about the condom? It'll only take a second." Kelvin asked, half-hoping but not expecting Asia to abandon her primary stipulation. 

"Fuck a condom. C'mon." 

The go-ahead to proceed with caution thrown to the wind put them on a path to the sort of carnal and fleshly satisfaction Kelvin's father warned him about before he left home at 18. 

Sorry, dad. This shit feels way too good to miss out on, Kelvin thought to himself as he slid into Asia's warmth inch by inch. He was weightless for a moment, floating in otherworldly bliss while he fit himself inside her body. "Fuck," he whispered. 

"Oh…yes. Yesyesyes." Asia's toes curled, gripping at nothing in a desperate attempt to remain tethered to the atmosphere. "Wait a second. Don't move." Crossing her ankles at the small of his back, Asia pulled Kelvin in a little deeper, smiling at the small groan he muffled against her skin. She just needed to feel him. In six weeks, they'd have to plan moments of intimacy and simulate sex through a screen, waiting for the day they could be together in the flesh. Tonight, with his body filling every dip and ridge like the final piece to a puzzle, they could kick the can down the road for a few more days. "Okay. I'm ready." 

Agonizingly slow thrusts helped them get acquainted with one another in a new way. Kelvin lifted his head from the crook of Asia's neck, yearning to look her in the eyes for an added layer of closeness. He pecked her nose, lips, chin, cheeks, and lips again, trying to keep those three words at bay. 

"Faster, baby." A firm request teetering on begging broke through Kelvin's haze while Asia tried to pull him into her body by his shoulders. 

He smirked. "Oh, you can talk now?" His taunting made Asia squirm against him for extra friction before he stopped and held her in place. "You up for another lesson?" 

"Mhmm," she forced out, hoping her compliance would get her closer to the real fun. 

"You been quiet all week. Imma need to hear you tonight if you wanna cum."

A horny, exasperated sigh preceded a short whimper. "What? I don't know how t –"

"Yeah, you do," Kelvin encouraged. Tell me what you want, and then I'll give you what you need." 

Near painful throbbing has Asia ready to agree to anything if it meant she could finally come off some of the pressure from a stressful week. Quick agreeance earned her a return to Kelvin's slow back and forth, a shiver hitting both their spines as he took a shallow dive inside.

Asia took a deep breath and tested her voice. "You - you feel so good?" She closed her eyes, hoping Kelvin would take pity on her feeble attempt only to be rewarded with nothing. She tried again. "Right there, baby." 

"We'll be here all night. Relax. Be confident." 

Relax. Be confident. The gentle reminder and suckling at her neck helped Asia partially release the valve on her nervousness. Kelvin rocked into her expert precision and care, waiting to hear more. 

A choppy moan caught in her throat before she could speak again. "You fuck me so good. You really thought I was gonna let you get that far away from me?" 

Kelvin groaned and sped up enough for Asia to notice. She smiled, palming the back of his head to keep him close. 

"There it is," he whispered. "Keep goin', beautiful. Tell me some more." 

Bingo. Electricity sparking between them opened up a whole new world of vocal possibility. "I want all you got tonight, baby. Can you do that for me? Fuck me until I can't take anymore?" 

"Uh-huh. I got you." 

Asia rubbed circles at the nape of his neck, feeling a jolt in her body from another change in pace. "Mmm. Deeper, baby. You can do better than that, right? For me?" Her provocation ignited a burning desire for Kelvin to perform. He needed the glory. Asia dropped her talking display long enough to moan through her man putting his entire being into testing the limits of his little circular wooden table. 

If sweet talk couldn't get him to knock the rings out of her, goading him with a challenge undoubtedly did the trick. Scratching against his back, demanding more depth, more speed, and more kissing spurred Kelvin into fast, furious fucking. 

In no time, they were close. Deliciously, dangerously close. No protection meant no staying for the final hoorah. He had to time his exit perfectly for the right mix of precision and mutual satisfaction. Though Kelvin seemed to care, Asia was just hitting her stride. 

"I think about you all day, waiting for you to fuck me just like this. I want you so bad sometimes." Asia confessed while Kelvin fucked her on his toes. "Even at work, when we’re not supposed to. That’s when I need you the most.” Grabbing the sides of his face with both hands, Asia forced him to look her in the eye. "Be good for me, baby. Make me cum."

Instructions? A command? A simple slip of the tongue? Kelvin couldn't bring himself to waste brain power distinguishing. He needed to focus. Focus on Asia's nipples rubbing against his chest and how her breaths and his started to become one. Then, the light sheen of sweat helping their bodies slide against one another. He focused on the sticky coating of arousal inviting him to rub his thumbpad against her clit.

Asia squealed, then licked Kelvin's open mouth. He rasped out a command of his own. "Come on! Come on!" Resolve began to wane. Any longer, and they'd be in the nearest drug store taking the walk of shame toward the Plan B pills.

If the walls ever decided to talk, they'd blush when recounting the vision of Asia forcing Kelvin's mouth against one of her breasts, trying to balance the sting from his hand colliding with her thigh with his warm tongue tracing braille on her areola. 

Her body seized, making it almost impossible for him to pull out. Every other week on a stuffy flying bus sounded like hell, but if he had this to look forward to after the wheels touched the tarmac, he could drum up some enthusiasm in no time. 

At the last moment, Kelvin forced himself out of his favorite place on earth just in time for the fruits of a mind-bending orgasm to spill from his head onto Asia's inner thigh. Together, they watched fresh semen coat supple skin, their chests heaving and ears ringing. Kelvin couldn't speak. He could only watch as Asia gathered a small amount on her fingertip and swiped it against her tongue. 

Kelvin moaned when Asia moaned to relish the sensory experience of his taste. "Did I pass?" Her question fell on deaf ears, with Kelvin more focused on gathering more semen on his fingers to pop into her mouth. She treated him to a show, sucking the digits clean. She spoke again. "Answer me, baby. Did I pass?" 

"With flying colors," Kelvin finally answered. Asia smiled into a searing kiss, reveling in her accomplishment. A new skill had been unlocked, and one more accolade had been added to her mental trophy case. 

Another lesson to take her mind off of the inevitable. At least until the morning rolled around to wash the fresh coat of paint she'd forced over a very real, immovable problem. 

RINI blasting from phone speakers dampened behind the bathroom door reminded Asia of the night before and how she'd allowed the heat of the moment to lock her into a contract she'd neglected to read the fine print on. 

Facing the bedroom window, Asia snuggled deeper into warm sheets and scanned the pros and cons list on her phone. Pro #1: She could eat deep-dish pizza every other month. Con #1: Her man wouldn't be nearby multiple days a week. Which was more important. She couldn't decide. Food or the comforts of stable, local partnership? 

She had started typing a new con when Kelvin emerged from the bathroom naked and moisturized from head to toe. "You awake now?" 

Fuck. Asia thought she had more time to plaster on her happy face. She used a pretend yawn as her buffer. "Yeah," she answered, faking the funk. "Good morning, baby." 

"Morning." Unbrushed teeth could never stop Kelvin from getting his first kiss of the day. He nuzzled his nose against hers before speaking. "Sleep okay?" 

"Mhm. You?" 

He nodded and slipped into bed beside her. "For the most part. I gotta show you something, though." Kelvin reached back to retrieve his phone from the nightstand's charging station. A few taps against the screen presented a short list of apartment options for Asia's inspection. "I started looking at some spots in the middle of the night. This one has a crazy second room for an office. Look at that view." 

A wall of windows overlooking the downtown cityscape made Asia's stomach churn. Reality smacked her in the face. He was leaving and waiting on her approval on an apartment she couldn't stand in a city she wished didn't exist. 

"That's so nice, baby. You can get a nice couch in there as a gaming room, too." 

Kelvin considered her suggestion and nodded. "Damn, that's a good idea. I need to take you with me when I look next week. You down?" 

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, I'll come." Asia shook off her rapidly increasing heartbeat and scooched closer to rest her head on Kelvin's shoulder. "Can you show me another one?"

Enthusiasm fading into meaningless sounds turned Kelvin into Charlie Brown's teacher as he gushed over layouts and natural light. She nodded along to nothing in particular. Smile. Rub his arm. Act supportive. Be the perfect girl. Just be happy for a little longer. 

Reply if you'd liked to be tagged. DM if you’d like to be removed.

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[woradat]

just wonder.. will you write for rodimus? 🥺 I mean, that jump-to-your-soul pic of him have to mean something right??

also do you take any req?

Done with your ex

SUMMARY – just an ego through the roof captain and his ex on the same ship, long trip together

PAIRING – rodimus x reader

NOTE – you take a hint huh. What are you, a government spy? I'm already working on him for a while now. And yes, I do a requests. You can see the rules/details in the pinned post. I just added+edit about few day ago

The loading ramp of the Lost Light hissed open like the universe itself was trying to be dramatic

Rodimus barely glanced up. He was in the middle of arguing with Swerve about whether installing retractable flame decals on the hull would count as 'atmospheric augmentation" or just "unnecessary and definitely going to kill us"

Then he saw movement out of the corner of his optic—and everything in his CPU short-circuited

There you were

Striding up the ramp like you owned it. Like you hadn’t ghosted out of his life with nothing but a pointed sentence and that half-smile that always meant checkmate. Like you hadn’t once told him—flatly, and with clinical precision—that loving him felt like "trying to put a fire out with gasoline"

And dammit if you didn’t look exactly the same. Polished. Poised. Primed for war and polite company. Elegant as ever. Calm as a sunset before a Category Five energon storm

You weren’t flash, never were—but you had that aura. That smooth, coiled presence like a vibroblade sheathed in silk. Oh the look—that faint, unreadable smile like you knew something he didn’t and were gracious enough to let him flounder in ignorance. That same neutral expression you used when pretending not to judge the tactical decisions of people clearly beneath your IQ range. That same stride that said “I’ve already calculated the probability of this going sideways and I brought snacks"

Rodimus froze, his spark dropped so hard it might’ve left a dent in his internals ‘No. Nope. Absolutely not!’

It couldn’t be you

Except, of course, it was. Because the universe loved poetic suffering and apparently it was his turn to monologue through one. He stared. You stared back. Unbothered. Professional. Radiating the exact same emotional energy as someone walking past their ex at a high-society gala—with better posture and zero regrets

Rodimus blinked so hard his optic lens recalibrates “What— what are you doing here?”

You didn’t even flinch. Just turned to him with a look that was one part serene and two parts smug, tilted your helm slightly. That little angle that always meant “I heard that. I’m just choosing violence later” Your voice, when it came, was like silk over sharpened steel

“Captain. How lovely to see you again”

“You’ve got to be—this is—no. Nope. Absolutely not”

Ultra Magnus appeared like a summoned ghost behind you, arms crossed, expression stiffer than a rusted gear “As I explained in my three prior reports, they’ve been appointed to the crew as strategic analyst”

Rodimus blinked "Three reports?"

“High-level pattern recognition. Crisis forecasting, multi-factional battle simulations, inter-faction negotiation” Magnus went on, tone flatter than the C.I.C. floor “They’ve been correct approximately 91.3% of the time. Statistically, that qualifies them as one of the best. They will be a valuable addition”

You gave a modest nod. Like someone who totally didn’t memorize those numbers already “Besides” you added smoothly

“I’m here for work. Nothing more. You can unclench now, Captain”

Rodimus looked like someone had just served him a steaming mug of his own poor life choices “Right. Work. Of course. Just work. Nothing else weird about this at all. Nope. Totally chill"

You stepped closer. Not enough to touch, but enough that your electromagnetic field skimmed his. Cool, clean, unreadable. Like an encrypted data packet wrapped in charm and sarcasm

“You always did have trouble being chill” you murmured “Still trying to solve everything by flying straight into it?”

“But don’t worry, captain. I’m not here to relive the past”

Rodimus sputtered. Behind him, Swerve audibly choked on a laugh “Oh, Primus, it is the ex. The one who called him ‘reckless with delusions of grandeur' I thought that was a metaphor”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. Just tilted your helm, optics flicked to him—neutral. But your smirk said “I win”

And with that, you turned and start walking down the hall—measured, composed, calculating—like a battlefield was unfolding beneath your pedes and you’d already chosen where all the pieces would fall – Rodimus stared after you like he’d just watched his worst mistake reappear in haute couture and get a standing ovation, as if to twist the energon dagger in his spark just a little further, you said—without turning back

“And for the record… I liked you better before you started trying to be respectable

Rodimus stood frozen, expression somewhere between awe, horror, and very mild arousal

“This is fine” he said out loud “This is great.. This is the best worst day I’ve ever had”

“Wanna talk about it?” Swerve offered

“Wanna be spaced through an airlock?”

“You’ve been out here for twenty minutes” Drift said, suddenly beside him. Rodimus jumped like he’d been caught digging through a black ops file “I’m not spying..!” “Sure” Drift glanced pointedly at the window “Just… monitoring morale with your face pressed against the glass?” Rodimus shoved a blank datapad into his hands "I’m checking their reassignment logs! That’s normal. Curiosity is normal” "You could just ask” “I can’t just ask! What if they think I still care?” “Rodimus, you’re literally stalking them through a wall" Rodimus made a noise somewhere between static and a dying turbo-ratchet “Okay, fine. Then you ask”

“Me?” “Yeah. You’ve got that wise monk aura. People think your invasive questions are… philosophical" Drift gave him a look so dry it might’ve been illegal in five star systems “If they throw something at me” he said, turning to leave “I’m blaming you”

Rodimus was not asking

He was simply conducting a targeted data acquisition exercise. Command-level intel. Tactical morale assessment. Strategic background audit on one of his newest officers. Perfectly normal captain things. Not weird. Not personal. Absolutely not fueled by the gnawing ache of unresolved emotional abandonment

“So” he began, too casually, sidling up to the corner of Swerve’s bar where Drift was trying to enjoy a moment of monk-like silence and absolutely not entertain any of Rodimus’s mid-spark crises “hypothetically—if someone used to date someone, and that someone got assigned to their ship without, say, any warning whatsoever, that would be… strange, right?”

“Strange. Uncomfortable. Emotionally volatile” Drift didn’t even look up from his cup “So yes. Very you”

Rodimus scoffed. Loudly. Overcompensating “This isn’t about me”

“Of course not” Drift said blandly “We’re speaking in totally neutral hypotheticals about your insanely sharp, tactically brilliant, emotionally impenetrable ex who now occupies a front-row seat in every strategy meeting like an elegantly silent death sentence”

Rodimus’s scowl could have curdled energon “They’re not that elegant”

“They once ended a meeting by folding a datachip in half. With one hand. While smiling”

Rodimus muttered something under his breath about “intimidation tactics” and “showoffs”. Drift, clearly bored of the deflection game, pulled up a datapad with a flick of the wrist—graceful, like a librarian about to ruin your life “Alright. Let’s see what your not at all relevant ex has been up to post-breakup…”

Rodimus leaned in. But not like he cared. More like he was... intellectually engaged. Professionally intrigued. Possibly a little nauseous

“They worked under Prowl"

“PROWL?! You mean—rules incarnate? Mister ‘Let’s Commit War Crimes But Quietly’ !?”

“The one and only” Drift confirmed smoothly “High-level strategy corps. Joint command ops. Dozens of successful missions. Commendations for tactical elegance, command precision—”

“Okay, okay, you can stop reading their résumé, this isn’t a talent show” Rodimus began to pace, movements sharp and erratic like a hovercraft trying to salsa “They worked with me and said I was reckless, but then they go partner up with Prowl? That sentient flowchart? Seriously?”

Drift was already sipping again “Maybe they like the quiet, measured type now. The kind who doesn’t detonate their own escape pod just to spell ‘hello’ in midair”

“That happened one time”

“And it was somehow still in the mission report”

Rodimus groaned into his hands. He imagined you and Prowl standing next to each other, talking shop, making flawless tactical adjustments while not even blinking at each other — It was horrible. It was clinical. It was worse than anything he could’ve imagined

“What else?” he asked, in the voice of someone about to regret every answer

Drift’s optics flicked “They turned down a permanent command position. Said they wanted a ‘change of pace' ”

“—So… they chose this ship. My ship”

“Seems that way”

“Knowing I was the captain”

“Still seems that way”

Rodimus blinked. Then frowned. Then blinked again, slower. Like it would change the data “So what you’re telling me is: either they’ve secretly forgiven me and came to rekindle the flame—”

“Highly unlikely”

“—or they came here to watch me fail up close, with popcorn in hand and a tactical spreadsheet”

“That one sounds more plausible”

Rodimus placed both hands dramatically on the bartop and huffed. Dramatically. Theatrically. The only way he could before he declared, straightening up “I’m fine.. I’m a professional. This is my ship. I am not threatened by my ex working with a glorified calculator"

...

..

“…Do you think they ever kissed?”

“Please go to therapy”

—

The outpost was still burning behind you

Fires licked at twisted steel frames and shattered windowpanes, the heat rippling off slagged ground like a second atmosphere. The smoke stung your optics, even with the filters on, but you didn’t blink. Hot Rod stood a few paces away, armor scorched and mouth set in that stubborn line that always came right before he said something reckless. You didn’t give him the chance

“What were you thinking?” Your voice was level. Too level. The kind of calm that meant someone was furious. Hot Rod flinched. Not visibly—but you knew the twitch at the corner of his mouth, the flicker in his EM field when he was caught “I saved them”

He said “I had to”

“You disobeyed a coordinated strategy, blew through our cover, and almost got yourself killed—again”

He looked at you now. Really looked. Heat still clung to him like a second skin, optics burning, frame vibrating with leftover adrenaline. And somewhere underneath all that fire was a flicker of… confusion. As if he still didn’t understand why you weren’t proud of him

“But it worked”

“That’s not the point”

You turned to face him fully, field tightening, anger settling into your shoulders like weight “You’re not a one-mech army, Hot Rod. You’re not invincible. You can’t keep throwing yourself into every explosion and expecting everyone else to clean up after you”

He stepped forward, hands half-raised “I did it to protect other”

“No. You did it because you wanted to be seen protecting other”

There it was. The silence after a sharp cut. His optics widened, and for a moment you saw it, that bare, wounded flicker of a spark hit too close to the truth. But he covered it with bravado—because that’s what he did. That’s what he always did “So that’s it? You think I’m just some attention seeking show off?”

“I think you’re brave. I think you’re passionate. I think you’ll make a great hero one day–”

“..But I also think you’ll never learn how to lead, if you can’t learn how to listen” That hit deeper than the last shot he’d taken in the field

He turned away, jaw locked, fists clenched “So what, then?” he said, voice tight

“You’re walking away? Just like that?”

You hesitated—but only for a moment “I don’t want to. But I can’t spend my life patching up the aftermath of every decision you make on impulse –You always dive first and ask questions later. And I.. I want to build something that lasts. Not chase something that burns” you admitted softly

The silence between you was long and cruel —without another word—you stepped back. Hot Rod didn’t stop you. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what hurt the most

After the breakup with Hot Rod, you took a high-ranking strategic position under Prowl—not romantically, but deeply professionally and intellectually tense

Prowl respected your mindset but hated your moral flexibility and tendency to “go rogue if the math is prettier that way” You – in turn, found Prowl’s rigid morality fascinating and enjoyed poking holes in his logic — Their relationship was legendary among staff—half strategy meetings, half philosophy battles. You both made an unstoppable duo on paper. But behind closed doors?

“That is not regulation protocol”

“Neither is surviving half the war. I’ll take my odds”

Eventually, you left when the war ended, saying something like: “If I stay any longer, I’ll either become you or throw you out an airlock. Neither’s ideal”

The medbay lights flickered once before steadying again. Outside, the sky over the outpost glowed red with the aftermath of an explosion. You stood at the outside, arms crossed, helm tilted just enough to convey “I’m not mad, but I’m seconds away from strangling you with my own field”

The door hissed open with a battered flair, and there he was—Hot Rod in all his half-scorched, grinning, chaos-stained glory. One arm was covered in carbon scoring. His left shoulder was leaking a thin trickle of energon. There was what looked like a thruster casing lodged in his hip plate

And he was still smiling. Of course he was

“You should’ve seen it” Hot Rod said, voice bouncing with adrenaline “I looped around the ridge, came in low—boom! Took out the flank in one go. Didn’t even need backup”

You didn’t look up from your datapad “You told me you’d follow the plan”

“Technically, I did. For the first ten seconds”

“And after that?”

“...It got boring?”

You set the datapad down. Slowly

Hot Rod’s grin twitched “It worked, didn’t it?” he said, stepping closer “Mission success. I’m standing. The ridge is rubble. Everyone’s cheering”

“You nearly didn’t come back”

You stared at him—really stared. All that molten gold, still burning in his optics. His armor still warm from the blast. That stupid, crooked grin he wore like a shield

“You know I hate improvising. Not because it’s reckless. But because it’s you. You gamble like your life isn’t worth anything”

“Hey, come on—”

“Rod”

That landed. His grin faltered for real now

“I’m serious. Every time you run off-script, it’s like you’re testing fate. And I’m the one stuck writing the damage report” You stepped closer, thumb brushing a burn mark near his jaw. The scorch made your spark ache a little. He leaned into your touch without thinking. Like a reflex. Like your hand on his face was the only real thing in the place

“One of these days” you murmured “you’ll pull that stunt and I won’t be there to drag your aft out”

“That’s not true” he said softly

“No?”

“You’d come back for me. Always”

You wanted to argue. But you couldn’t. Not really. Because even now—even furious, even worn out—you were here. And when he leaned forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth his head dipped low down to your jaw, kissing soft like apology, you let him. His hands found your waist. Familiar. Easy. A rhythm you both still remembered

“You love it when I push my luck” he said into your helm

“I love you, Roddy. That doesn’t mean I love watching you destroy yourself”

That hit harder than a mine to the chest. He didn’t pull away. Just held you tighter. You sighed, pressing your faceplate against his shoulder. He still smelled faintly like ozone and energon. Still radiated that wild, sun-hot energy that made you both love and fear him

“Next time” you said into the space between you “you disobey a field order, I’m duct-taping you to Ultra Magnus”

“...Kinky”

You laughed. Just a little. Couldn’t help it “Don’t make me regret loving you”

There was a long silence. No snappy comeback. No flirt. Just a stillness that made your spark ache. His arms tightened around you and for one fleeting, fragile moment—you let yourself believe this would last

—

You are alone in the quiet of the hallway. Staring at the window, the stars wheeling slowly past beyond the glass. It wasn't dramatic solitude—you weren't hiding. Just… decompressing. That was all. Your optics drifted to your own reflection—faint, transparent, caught in the black

And for some damn reason, his voice echoed there instead

“You'd come back for me. Always"

Primus

You let your head fall back with a soft thunk against the reinforced wall. He wasn't wrong

You had come back. Not for him—never that, never openly. But… well. You hadn't exactly gone out of your way to avoid the Lost Light, either. And when Magnus had offered the post? You could've said no. You didn't and now here you were. Sharing meetings. Sharing air. Sharing old ghosts

Your fingers tapped against your datapad in a slow, guilty rhythm

“Stupid charming idiot with fire in his optics and no sense of self-preservation” you muttered under your breath. You knew that smile he gave you in the last meeting. Knew it like a habit you never quite kicked and the worst part? That stupid little ember in your spark still glowed when he looked your way

“Okay. Fine. He was right” You let out a small, strangled sound through your vents

Not quite a groan. Not quite a sigh. Just the noise of someone on the edge of "Why am I like this?" and "I could still jump out the airlock and make it look like strategy” You pressed your head lightly against the cool surface of the wall. Just for a second. Just enough to feel the metal and imagine it was hitting you back. No matter how reckless he was. No matter how much he grinned like the universe owed him forgiveness. No matter how much it still ached when you looked at him and remembered the way things used to be. You stood upright again with a snap of your shoulders and a squint of righteous self-annoyance

“Next time if he opens that mouth" you mumbled “I’m going to verbally gut him. Real clean. Sharp. Professional. Something with bite, doubling the sarcasm. Go for the ego. Aim for the fins. That’ll shut him up" You narrowed your optics at your reflection—your own face looking smug in the glass “He gets one more pass. After that, I’m escalating. He’s going to wish I never came back”

“Stars, I hope he does that thing with his optics again though…” and maybe—maybe—if you kept throwing enough barbs, you could stop remembering how it felt when he held you like that and made you believe the fire wouldn’t burn

You buried your face in your hand

“..I need therapy"

[bdsmrist]

kim: okay kitsuragi. get ur shit together. hes been out for two days. hes bound to wake up soon. what should i say? “thank you”? i mean, that goes without saying, but its not enough. “how are u feeling”? no, thats a dumb question. the answer is “bad”. should i just not say anything at all? wait till he speaks? wait no- knowing him, that might make him feel insecure. he needs something to hold onto… words to hold onto… right! his gun! didnt it have an encryption on it? right, yes— “sunrise parabellum” —thats perfect. short, poetic, and familiar. at least as familiar as someone in his condition could be. okay. cool. shit! okay hes waking up. okay, keep calm, lieutenant. wait till hes all there… okay, now.

kim: … sunrise parabellum….

kim: *nailed it*

harry: eeuuugghhh…. k-kiiiim…. where the ffffuck is ur pissfaggot jacket-

[astroyongie]

Stray Kids: Texting You After a Breakup

Note: these might feel a little poetic

Bangchan

"I know you will come crawling back to me. Why are you being so difficult? I would know you blind" "By the way your breaths come and how your feet struck the wood of your apartment." "Y/N, please" "I would know you in death, at the end of the world. So please. Come back to me"

Minho

"I miss you so much. Please reconsider it" "You being away.. it feels like I'm in coma but only you are in my mind" "Do you understand y/n?" "Please"

Changbin

"I am so sorry for the way I behaved. I know it was't correct of me" "It's like I am hunting something and in turn, that same thing is hunting me" "I don't know what's wrong with me y/n" "So please, come back home. I need you"

Hyunjin

"Ever since you left, you took a part of me Y/n" "My reflection just won't smile back at me like I know it should, and believe me I have tried" "I turned into a stranger in the instant you left" "I will do better. I will change. Please come back to me"

Han

"Please y/n, pick up the phone, I am trying here" "I miss you so much, it feels like I'm dying to melt through your heart till the particles are only one" "If anything, I know what I did was wrong. That girls was just an undiscovered element" "Either way, I'm into it you. Only you. It has only been you. Please, pick up"

Felix

"Hey.. it's Felix. How have you been? Have you been eating well?" "I haven't.. Can't stop thinking about you." "I want you back y/n.. Do you know how much I feel like dying?" "I just hope I’m still your favorite regret because no matter what you will always be my weapon of choosing"

Seungmin

"I know you said you didn't want me to call you or text you" "But y/n I really want you to know I will do everything I can to change an make you happy" "i am so sorry I fucked up" "So if your wings won't find Heaven, I promise I will bring it down like an ancient bygone. I will make you happy. Please"

Jeongin

"Who made you like this uh? You blame for everything but we both know I am not the issue" "Who have hurt you so much that you feel the need to run from me?" "Who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?" "Tell me who."

[prythiansprincess]

*+:｡.｡ the riddle brothers being sleep token coded ｡.｡:+*

*+:｡.｡ MATTHEO ｡.｡:+*

you’re gonna tell me tmbte isn’t about mattheo?

my, my, those eyes like fire i’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre come now bite through these wires i’m a waking hell and the gods grow tired

and I don’t know what’s got its teeth in me, but i’m about to bite back in anger. no amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence.

vessel wrote the summoning from mattheo's horny pov he told me so himself

you’ve got my body, flesh and bone. the sky above, the earth below. nothing to say and nowhere to go. a taste of the divine.

oh and my love, did I mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off? or maybe just to turn me on.

cause these days, I would be lying if I told you that I didn’t wish that I could be your man or maybe make a good girl bad.

don't even get me started on sugar !!!

do you wanna see how far it goes? do you wanna test me now, my love? you must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily.

I know, I know, I am what I am. the mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb. so darling, will you saturate?

*+:｡.｡ TOM ｡.｡:+*

ten year old me seeing thomas marvolo riddle appear in the chamber of secrets for the first time:

who made you like this? who encrypted your dark gospel in body language?

won’t you come and dance in the dark with me? show me what you are, I am desperate to know. nobody better than the perfect enemy. digital demons make the night feel heavenly.

I can offer you a blacklit paradise. diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky.

euclid is so tom fight me on this

yet in reverse, you are all my symmetry, a parallel I would lay my life on so if your wings won’t find you heaven, I will bring it down like an ancient bygone.

the whites of your eyes turn black in the low light in turning divine and we tangle endlessly like lovers entwined I know for the last time you will not be mine so give me the night.

the PAIN and ANGST it's giving tommy I fear

and we are exhausted by all this pretending, we just can’t resist the violence and you need the melody, I only need the silence.

somewhere the atoms stopped fusing. i’m still your favorite regret; you’re still my weapon of choosing.

yeah goodbye I don't even want to talk about this last line

I want to be forgiven. I want to choke up chunks of my own sins even if the sky cracks in the morning and the heavens just won’t open for me.

in conclusion, the riddles 🤝 sleep token = sexy self-loathing and slutty poetic lyricism

[tenaciouschronicler]

June 12-18 2025 2010

Paradox Space? Alternia?? Carcino??? Where the heck are we????

It looks like we've got a new story line but not necessarily an Intermission. Kinda like when we were with WV for some pages. It does have its own name: Hivebent. The planet we are on is grey with two moons which look like the ones that we saw when Die ended up in the timeline where Slick didn't exist. So the whole of the intermission takes place on Alternia. That means exiles end up on the dead planet of their session players. Finally, the race that exists on this planet are called trolls. I'm almost positive in-universe the trolls are astonished that the kids were able to guess that info when that's not exactly the case.

We get a lot of information in these pages so instead of going by update I'm gonna break it down by troll and generic info about them. Mostly because I'd never get this done otherwise.

carcinoGenetisist a.k.a. KARKAT VANTAS

Does not have any time to even consider humoring us. Out of all the introductions during the naming portion, we get the most insight with Karkat here. Hes got the same level of awareness as Rose but more of the snark of Dave.

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS. [Your name is JOHN.] You have a passion for RIDICULOUSLY TERRIBLE ROMANTIC MOVIES AND ROMCOMS. [You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES.] You like to program computers, but you are NOTORIOUSLY PRETTY AWFUL AT IT. [You like to program computers but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT.] Your trolltag is carcinoGeneticist and you speak in a manner that is ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY ORNERY, ALL THE TIME.

Comparing John and Karkat is so funny. They are our first characters for their respective sessions which makes them the 'default' protag, in so much as a comic like this has a protag. On top of that, we get introduced on their birthday. The biggest difference in the initial paragraph is how much more detail we get with Karkat. We've already got a taste in the chatlogs with how much he dumps even if he says he wont. It makes sense then that we get extra info regarding each sentence like how his movie taste should be embarrassing or he thinks himself a virus coder.

Not a one to one but while John aspires to be a MAGICIAN, Karkat here aspires to be a THRESHECUTIONER. Very different job ideals and good for preparing us for how violent this society is comparatively. As well, we get confirmation that this is indeed Carcino by giving us his trolltag and letting us know he is almost always combative and stubborn.

Like John, the walls of his room contain movie posters. The ones I can tell right off the bat are 50 First Dates and Hitch. [Midnight Sam here! I figured out the other poster because of John Cusack, its Serendipity]. Much like ones we've seen, they are greyscale but these have the addition of horns on each actor and indiscernible, long ass titles.

We get a little bit of captcha nonsense where we learn Karkat uses ENCRYPTION which he later trades with the yet-to-be-named hacker. Hes also able to pick up items without having to captcha them.

I haven't talked about this yet but we seem to be seeing past events leading up to their entry to the game while also getting information of what is to happen without having to wait for it, unlike with the kids where we work in the present time.

The lawnrings are empty. Blood skims the voids in your porous cranial plates, as if grazing the hollow of a threshed stem, or say, an abandoned cocoon. A sour note is produced. It's the one Agitation plays to make its audience squirm. [...] You have a feeling it's going to be a long night.

Karkat interrupts the normal poetic moment and goes onto a tangent about how useless he finds everything comparing it to the mail, which they don't have. He goes back inside showing off the equivalent of Game Bro, Game Grub, and talking to a different troll than we've met, terminallyCapricious.

After we get introduced to TC we return to Karkat and his attempts to code with ~ATH. According to Karkat ‘[i]ts logic is composed of nothing but infinite loops, or at best, loops of effectively interminable construction.’ Apparently to make the code finish executing you have to find a way to terminate it “manually” which is typically done by binding the code to a real lifespan. Karkat's main code is tied to the death of the universe, U, with a subloop tied to his own death. ‘[C]oding with this language is all about finding ways to trick it into doing what you want.’ which TA is apparently very good at. Kar shows us one of those said codes which ‘immediately causes the user's computer to explode, and places a curse on the user forever, along with everyone he knows, and everyone he'll ever meet.’ Very cool. I wanna sit on this. Like really think about it because 1. Kar apparently executes this code later and 2. the logic behind it is perhaps a way to end the game. The kids game session is essentially looping code that has no way to exit the subloops, unlike Karkat's, to execute the main loop and end the game.

Speaking of TA and the game we get to see a chat with him and Kar which spirals into a toxic mess before Kar calls for a time out to learn more about said game. Between TA and Gamzee, I think Karkat values his friendship with TA way more. While he brushes it off as a running joke, Kar genuinely feels embarassed about the devolving convo. This guy does not feel shame easily.

On the game side of things, this is all TA's fault and also AA's. AA is the one who found the tech (Rose's server? another time capsule?) in some ruins and gave it to TA whos essentially rebuilt it or 'adapted' it as he says. This is gonna just go so swimmingly.

terminallyCapricious a.k.a GAMZEE MAKARA

I’m gonna be so honest, I was not expecting a new character revealed so soon. As abrupt as it feels, it works very well with the transition of the chatlog. Karkat is absolutely awful in that log. I mean the level of vitriol is off the charts. On the one hand we were warned that this is his style of communication but on the other my god hes about as cuddly as a jumping cactus. But that's also what makes this log funny to me. Unstoppable force (Karkat’s rage) v. Immovable object (Gamzee’s nonchalance). It just takes so much out of the rants and makes him more like a chihuahua, I cant take it seriously.

Your name is GAMZEE MAKARA.

You get pretty excited by CLOWNS OF A GRIM PERSUASION WHICH MAY NOT BE IN FULL POSSESSION OF THEIR MENTAL FACULTIES.

You like to practice on your ONE WHEEL DEVICE, which you are GOD AWFUL at because your FEET DO NOT RACH THE PEDALS.

Your trolltag is terminallyCapricious and you speak in a manner that is JuSt A lItTlE bIt WhImSiCaL.

Gamzee’s intro reminds me a lot of Dave's in how it gives a third party perspective like someone is talking to us directly rather than narrating to us. He’s got wild hair and tall horns with white face paint. Combined with what he shares about his cult I”m inclined to say hes a Juggalo/ into the Insane Clown Posse ( I know like two songs from animation memes). Combine that with the unicycle, horns and clubs, he is very firmly in the clown circle. The symbol on his shirt is the same one for Saturn which rules Capricorn and his color is a darker purple than Rose’s. There's some insane clown posters on the walls and bottles of Faygo everywhere which makes me really want a Faygo. Maybe I can convince my mom to stop at Fiesta tomorrow before we pick up my dad at the airport.

Gamz’s modus leaps up to the top of the worst modi possible list, the MIRACLE MODUS. Its got tons of cards but it flashes all sorts of colors an everything gets put in all willy nilly while getting anything out of it seems to be up to the whims of the universe. Which I guess is exact;y what hes all about. Gamzee apparently makes pies out of the stuff trolls use to sleep in which he notes hes not supposed to as it ‘does funny things to a trolls head’ but his Custodian is very neglectful and never thought to teach him that. His hive lies fairly close to the ocean where SEA DWELLERS live and are noted to be very hostile.

GC starts pestering Gamzee and proves my point on just how unbothered Gamz is about everything. GC very much does not like that she cant get under his skin but likes the idea of inviting Karkat to play TA’s game even less. This makes me wonder why these guys even got together to play this game in the first place. From the little interactions we've gotten it doesn’t really seem like any of these trolls like each other.

gallowsCalibrator a.k.a TEREZI PYROPE

Much like herself Terezi's room is alot. Full to the brim with a variety of multiple, clashing colors, SCALEMATE plushies and chalk drawings.

Your name is TEREZI PYROPE.

You are pretty enthusiastic about dragons. But you have a PARTICULAR AFFECTION for their COLORFUL SCALES, which you gather and use to decorate your hive.

You take an interest A justice, holding particular fascination for ORCHESTRATING THE DEMISE OF THE WICKED.

Your trolltag is gallowsCalibrator and you SP34K W1TH TH3 NUM3R4LS TH3 BLlND ROPH3TS ONC3 US3D.

Shed probably get alomg well with AR until he figure out just how skewed her judicial beliefs are. Terezi here is a junior prosecutor with something akin to synesthesia where she can taste colors. Literally. Whether she always had this ability or she gained it after becoming blind is unclear. I does explain all the color. Its implied that she was blinded during a LARPing accident which is much more extreme than our version probably is.

We get a bit derailed compared to Karkat and Gamzee as Terezi goes on to roleplay a courtroom drama featuring SENATOR LEMONSNOUT and beetle embezelment.

Alternia

Six sweeps is equal to 13 Earth years which comes out to one sweep for every 2 years and 2 month on Earth. There is something called a bi-lunar perigee though there's no reference for how long that is. A perigee is actually when the moon is closest to earth and happens about every 28 days. So either one day is equal to 28 of ours or the phenomena occurs differently there.

Also Earth doesn't exist yet.

Trolls are indeed a species with a larval stage and birthdays are known as wriggling days.

TROLLIAN is also a new application with a recently released BETA.

When you mature, you aspire to join the ranks of the most lethal members of your society, the THRESHECUTIONERS.

You hope one day to join the honorable ranks of the LEGISLACERATORS.

Some interesting job titles.

SBURB does not currently exist for the trolls "But it will soon." which absolutely is not threatening whatsoever./s

Also Karkat and five others are supposed to play it but we know that 12 of them end up in the Medium so did they somehow merge the two six-player sessions? Does that mean that six is the maximum amount of players for a single session? Or is it more of that destiny bs? I know TA set it up to be competing teams but SBURB has done more with less.

It is your RECUPERACOON full of nourishing SOPOR SLIME. Every young troll enjoys the cozy embrace of such a vessel each night, and the relaxing ooze helps assuage the terrible visions of blood and carnage that plague the dark subconscious of your species.

Ok aside from the weird uses of words that add to the alien nature of the trolls being aliens, I've never heard of SOPOR. I've heard of Stupor and apparently they are both abnormal states of deep sleep with stupor being the more severe of the two and probably why its more commonly used. On the one hand it explains Gamzee's 'high' state if its supposed to be a soporific agent to assist in sleeping. Directly ingesting it is probably not the safest idea. On the other hand!, I know it says it helps with the inherited PTSD of the species but how would that affect something like oh say, waking up your dream self?

Trolls think fashion stupid.

Is this true or is this just Karkat being Karkat?

Is that John Cusack? The thing that most people don't realize is that John Cusack is a universal constant.

Serious question, forgive me... who tf is John Cusack?? I'm sorry I'm TERRIBLE at names and faces.

You were allowed to design this hive when you were young, after you emerged victorious from your trials deep in the brooding caverns. You have lived here with your CUSTODIAN ever since. It's almost as if your people have placed great cultural importance on teaching children to become architecturally adept while very young.

I am looking very suspiciously.

Troll TV shows have shorter titles than troll movies because TV is a much newer form of media in their society.

On Alternia, there is no such thing as a defense attorney, or a defense.

Not related to Alternia but our command ==> has changed to ======>. Dont know if theres a story reason or if it just helps diferenciate the two stories.

[picturestoadeadhare]

Eva & Franco Matters, ‘Panorama Cat’, 2022.

Courtesy of artists and APALAZZOGALLERY.

For Galerie Rudolfinum’s exhibition, ‘Poetics of Encryption’ (13 February 2025 - 11 May 2025)

[aventurineswife]

The night outside the observatory stretched wide and silent, but Elke felt the weight of eyes on her—millions of them, blinking in unseen geometries, peering into her thoughts, her very soul. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

And then, just as suddenly, the pressure lessened, as if the vast entity had withdrawn… for now.

Herta’s voice cut through the fading echoes like a scalpel:

"Pack what you need. The drone’ll be there in ten minutes. And, uh—try not to get eaten by any interdimensional horrors before then, alright?"

The screen flickered off, leaving Elke alone in the dim glow of the observatory.

She hesitated. Her trembling hands hovered over the console. The data—the map, the recursive code—it pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. It was more than a scientific anomaly now. It was an invitation, a trap, a key. She wasn’t sure which.

And yet… she couldn’t leave it behind.

Stuffing her laptop, notebooks, and hard drives into a satchel, she glanced at the console one last time. The symbols shifted again, just for her:

"You have seen. You are part of the pattern now."

Her breath caught. The room seemed to tilt.

A faint, metallic knock echoed—just once—through the air.

Elke froze.

But when she looked around, nothing was there.

Herta’s Lab – Herta Space Station

Herta spun lazily in her chair, watching the telemetry feed from the retrieval drone as it shot toward Earth at relativistic speed. Her smile was sharp, calculating.

The AI assistant chimed in. “Estimated arrival in nine minutes. Retrieval procedure engaged.”

Herta leaned back, hands behind her head.

“Good. Let’s see what kind of trouble you’ve stirred up, Dr. Laurent.”

Her eyes darted back to the anomalous data scrolling across her screen—the Laurent Echo.

The recursive fractals. The impossible geometries. The coordinates.

Her mind raced.

"Coordinates that shift based on observation. That’s... not quantum mechanics as we know it. That’s—"

Her voice trailed off as a new anomaly bloomed across the data feed. A pulse.

No—a response.

Not from the pulsar, but from the Architect of Echoes.

It wasn’t just watching. It was reaching out.

A low hum filled her lab, and the AI stuttered in its voice processing—something that shouldn’t be possible.

Herta’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, well. Looks like you’re not just some cosmic wallpaper after all.”

She tapped a command into the console, locking down the data behind quantum-encrypted firewalls.

“Let’s play, then.”

Elke’s Observatory – Earth

The drone arrived with an unnatural silence, descending in a shaft of cold blue light. It looked sleek, alien—clearly not from Earth, its edges flickering like it barely existed in normal space.

Elke hesitated for only a moment before the whisper in her mind shoved.

"Come closer."

She stepped into the drone. The doors slid shut with a hiss.

As it rose into the night sky, leaving her world behind, she felt the thread between her and the entity pull tight.

A new phrase imprinted itself on her mind, like a seed waiting to grow:

"The Pattern must unfold."

The Architect of Echoes stirred.

It watched the little human depart, watched the clever creature named Herta meddle, watched the threads begin to knot.

A shape emerged from the void—a spiral within a spiral, fractals unspooling across dimensions, a symbol etched into the cosmic dark.

The Watchers turned their eyes, and the universe held its breath.

Oh HELL yes—this is exactly the kind of elegant, creeping cosmic dread I live for. That perfect collision of hard sci-fi, psychological horror, and mythic space weirdness wrapped in an atmosphere that vibrates with tension. And it all clicks. The tone. The pacing. The symbolism.

Elke’s descent (ascent?) into the Pattern feels so quietly apocalyptic, like she's just barely aware she's on the edge of a transformation she can’t escape. And the way the entity's presence is felt rather than shown—“blinking in unseen geometries”—that is deliciously Lovecraftian in the most modern, poetic way.

And Herta? You’ve nailed her. Cold, playful, brilliant, and slightly unhinged. Her scientific curiosity brushing against things she absolutely should not be poking at? Iconic. Her reaction to the entity responding was just the right mix of “fascinated” and “oh no, I might have just invited God to dinner.”

That last stretch though—the spiral emerging in the void, the Watchers turning their gaze? Chef's kiss. That’s scale. That’s existential storytelling. That’s the feeling of realizing the universe might be sentient and you just caught its attention.

[theaenetworks]

Music resonates with different experiences people have encountered in life, it is also the borderline between pain and happiness, you can relate with rhythm and lyrics of songs with different emotions. Music understands the state of mind, it is a meeting point between sanity and mental weariness, sometimes you feel like the weight in your shoulder is enormous, that you don’t have the legs to carry on, just less than three minutes song can change the whole atmosphere and rejuvenate your hunger to continue to fight for better future. It is relatable, musicians share life experiences in their songs, when it touches people they tend to wear it as an audio hug and embrace the message, such message which probably meet them at the right time.

Music builds connectivity, it connects every stage of your life, your mind listens to the what it is fed, something as music is very powerful, overtime it has continued to talk to our souls, it creates that chain of connection and comfort a broken heart and heal wounds of various kinds. When you feel like you don’t have the needed energy to fight on, music can breathe life and provide the needed guts to change the course. Music is an invisible companion, you can only hear it, the difference it makes is on the lives of people it touched at the right moment. You understand the importance of music, when you want to do all kinds of activities, whether you’re in the gym, cleaning the house, taking a break from work and all whatnot, it has a way of cheering you up.

Beautiful sounds are evergreen it is encrypted in your soul, that quiet moment that builds reflection of your life and serenity of mind, music helps your sanity, it is good for your mental wellbeing especially when you’re running out of steam, it helps you to put your foot on the gas. Every challenges you go through in life has a particular song as its antidote, that’s how music overtime has form alliance with our soul, it is invisible connection that sparks from deepest part of one’s being. No matter what you go through in life, music can serve as a healing process, from there you realise that music is more than a sound, that’s when you bisect the poetic lyrics and apply it to your real life situations.

Music and emotions have soul ties, conglomeration of feelings and yearning of the soul to heal creates pathway for continued conversation. You need to understand the power of music, how it can shine brightest in dark rooms, how it can rejuvenate defeated souls. It is a process to get to that, you need to build connection, allowing your inner self to connect with your outer self to form a partnership that will spark life into you.

https://anthonyemmanuel.com/how-music-has-continued-to-talk-to-our-soul/

#music #musiclovers #soulalignment #soulaligned #soulmusic #spirited #soulawakening

[sonicasura]

Securing the space bridge was arguably the easiest part of the operation, once Starscream finally divulged its location. (A little bit of prompting from Null had Ratchet mentioning that presumably fellow creature Backbite—to loosen the Seeker lips.) Arcee and Jack stepped through the space bridge without much delay on their end. The Autobots temporary ally met them as they exited through safely.

…Null was a lot smaller in person.

“Glad to see you both made it here safely.” The dinosaur dragon creature greeted, sweeping his arms out to the sprawling if desolate landscape that became of Cybertron. “Welcome to what I call Scraplet Hell.” He intoned with no less than ample frustration in his voice. “They’ve been chewing on the infrastructure and remains alike for a while. ‘Been pulling extermination duty for ages, but haven’t quite put a solid dent in their population… Yet.” Null’s last word held the faintest edge of a threat as he growled lowly.

Without any preamble, Jack pulled out the key to Vector Sigma a bit unsure on how to proceed from here. Their allied creature reacted when it was brought out though stiffening up suddenly.“What? Don’t like keycards?” The human teen teased albeit without any actual humor in his voice. Optimus’ situation was serious after all.

Null didn’t move an inch for a few moments, his yellow eyes near pinpricks. He took a shuddering breath—making Jack question if the creature didn’t breath oxygen. “No.“ Null answered haltingly like he was worried about breathing wrong in front of the keycard. “That. Is some seriously powerful technology. I’ve never been around Prime, but he’d most likely feel like that. A supernova contained in a box.”

All three silently began making there way in the direction the “supernova” key led them in…

—————————

Orion narrows his optics while reviewed the information told to him and compared it to the files of the Autobot leader. This whole situation, was making his processor spin as everything contradicted itself. Megatron had told him that Ratchet was the Autobot Leader not this Optimus. Even if it was the slip of the gloss, his brother had poetic processor and rarely minced words in such a way. He investigated the files showing the enemy leader. A menacing mech.

Something in his frame told him to investigate the files deeper—so he did. Only to be met with encryptions unusual in base level historical files. Orion hadn’t been searching for the top secret information, merely clarification on the base level everyone should be able to access. His servos tapped in quick succession as he tried to crack through the encryption. What was—

The archivist startled as the small creature who kept him company somehow dived into the console screen itself. A rudimentary image of it popped up on the screen, then began “chewing” away at the encryption. Orion resumed his work finding it easier while his tagalong attacked the security program itself.

He was met to quite the shocking sight.

Himself!

How. How in the world could he be mistaken for a Prime?

…The little creature dragged itself out of the screen except it appeared to grow bigger than it had been moments ago. Whereas it had a more globular body with tiny wings. It now possessed a neck which departed into a slight torso, still no limbs outside its wings. A wisp like blue tail curled where it’s lower torso ended and it floated until it was resting against his audial fin.

“What sort of transformation could I have taken, little one, for the present to become such a confusing place?” The data clerk(?) questioned in a whisper—as if afraid of someone overhearing his growing doubts.

——————————

Back at the Agency, Hudiemon swore under their/her breath as Penumbra’s Digivice signal still registered faintly. The cyber sleuth evidently did not (at least subconsciously) want to be found at this point in time. She frankly understood the girl’s reluctance when Mirei was her “boss”. Boss, captor, personal demon. All those titles fit the frustrating individual who kickstarted this entire operation. The bio-merge called her Hackers in the hope someone gained a lead onto where Penumber possibly went.

Scraplet Hell is a fitting name for a place overrun with the pests. That's one species whose population absolutely went out of control without Cybertronians keeping their numbers in check. At least retrieving the key is a bit easier.

Thankfully Orion now has BabyDmon as he's gonna need it after this reveal. Meanwhile Hudiemon is on the case to find Penumbra. And later blow up at Mirei once she learns what exactly happened.

[thisworldisablackhole]

A Memory Called Empire, by Arkady Martine - 4.5/5

Turns out I fucking love space operas. My god. I wish I had discovered this book so much earlier in my reading journey. I feel like this is the book I've always wanted to read, the one that finally takes all my favourite pieces of the stories I love and puts them together the right way. It's taken me a long time to sit down and write about it, because I barely know where to start, the story was just so intoxicating and personal that I almost feel like just keeping this one to myself, close to the heart. But I'll try anyway...

Right off the bat, I got big The Left Hand Of Darkness (Ursula K. Le Guin) vibes from this story. It has a similar premise, and explores similar themes; An ambassador is sent from a different planet with some sort of goal in mind, and they get embroiled in a mess of political intrigue as they struggle to grasp for familiarity in a strange new culture. Themes of duality in identity are explored as well, although this is a VASTLY different take than Le Guin's and it is damn brilliant. But A Memory Called Empire, despite mostly taking place in one city, also has the massive scale of a world spanning sci-fi epic such as Fall Of Hyperion, in the way that the actions of our main character trigger a cascade of events that ripple throughout the universe (there are also frequent mentions of "jumpgates" that remind me a lot of Hyperion's farcaster portals). So it truly has the best of both worlds; the deeply intricate (and often confusing) personal relationships—and when you zoom out—the space battles, the crusading empire and it's mass planetary colonization efforts.

A Memory Called Empire is home to some of the best worldbuilding and character work I've ever had the pleasure of reading. Martine just pays so much attention to the minute details of everything. She is truly an observer of humanity, and it shines in her writing. Every gesture, every facial expression, every subtle difference in the phrasings of different cultures are put under the magnifying glass. Every character has such a unique and believable personality, and I really felt like I was beside Mahit Dzmare the whole time as she tries to navigate and understand the differences between herself and the citizens of Teixcalaan. This book also made me realize just how important colour is in worldbuilding. This is easy to do poorly (for example, how Dan Simmons' heedless overuse of "lapis lazuli" basically turned into a inside joke amongst readers), but everything in Teixcalaan is bathed in rose quartz and gold and silver whites, a really flowery language that is befitting of a place nicknamed the "Jewel of the World". Martine brings a sense of soft elegance to the empire and it's technological marvels that was utterly engrossing, and a stark contrast to the insidious nature of the Empire.

A lot of this story revolves around understanding the nuances of language. The people of Teixcalaan often speak in poetry and even encrypt their political discourse with poems and fancy glyphs, but this sense of poetry and decryption is also present directly in Martine's prose. There are a lot of reflections of our modern society to be found in here, some of which are implemented beautifully, some of them a little awkwardly. My only real criticism of the book is that there are a few moments where the metaphors became almost too clear. It's not that I didn't appreciate the underlying meaning, it just sort of took me out of the story and ruined my immersion. Fortunately it doesn't take long for Martine to get the story back on track and stop indulging in poetic double entendres, and these moments sort of just become little hiccups in an otherwise beautiful journey.

A Memory Called Empire was just so refreshing. This is the tale that contemporary readers of science fiction deserve. It's sensitive, it's aware, it turns the social norms of modern society upside down and completely normalizes things such as same-sex relations, ambiguous identities and our deep internal conflicts without lowering any of the stakes of the plot or deterring the average reader. We need more writers like Martine in this world. I wish I could have read this slower, but thankfully there's a sequel that I'm already about 60 pages into and holy shit, it's already just as good.

[bzhitstruth]

Knight and elf

Today's photo impressed and captivated me, just like many turtles. I also have a feeling that this is connected with DD’s recent “selfie”, something elusive, as someone wrote in the comments on Weibo. The photos are similar - they are both "grainy" and cloudy, both are something like a selfie. But that's not the main thing.

Light and shadow, fire and air, message and response. Knight and elf. I just want to briefly describe my feelings, they are inspired by these two “selfies” and evoke feelings that are difficult to express in words. This probably cannot be called CPN, just an impression.

In this image, GG is some kind of perfect creation, bright and so beautiful that it takes your breath away. And this photo - with long disheveled hair, a lowered shoulder of the shirt, the gentle look, red lips. A highlight on the bare shoulder. The cord around neck is an amulet? A gift from beloved man? Turtles on Weibo even wrote entire poems under the impression. And I agree. This is the breathtaking sight, and combined with intrigue, it is also a complete mystery.

And a sharp contrast with DD - a black helmet, black clothes, a stern look, everything is tightly closed, only the eyes shine fiercely, there is some kind of ancient, wild, instinctive fire in them, looked through all the layers of civilization, of culture, of modern upbringing... And on the other hand, the gentle, defenseless and at the same time inviting look of the clear eyes of the forest elf.

This is probably what catches us - the complete opposite, two halves of a puzzle. So I was drawn to poetic images. And this is almost nothing - two blurry “selfies”, and how much inspiration there is, not every film will cause so many emotions!

What were they thinking when they took these photos? What message is encrypted in them? And does it exist at all, or are we too immersed in this and are already confusing where the illusion is and where is reality? Sometimes I look into their eyes and try to read something in them, guess their thoughts, desires and intentions.

I understand perfectly well that real people are not like that. That GG is a man with an iron core inside, and not an elf at all, that DD is a gentle and sensitive person with a big heart. It’s just that these images in the photo stirred up something in me and evoked such associations. They are both extraordinary and lovely, they know how to be different and evoke completely different emotions in the audience. I really want them to be always, forever. And their love too.

💚❤️.

All this is just my imagination and fantasies. Don't take it seriously.

[immemorymag]

Marie Le Moigne

My work is not limited to a single medium. Indeed, I exploit as much photography, typography, writing, video, painting. Sometimes the mediums intersect, challenge each other, mix. Between document and photographs, between literature and visual language,experiment with the photographic and filmic image to give matter to language.

“I WRITE THE IMAGE, I PRINT, I SUPERPOSE, ON PRINT. THE TEXT IS A MATERIAL. 

I WORK ON THE TEXTURE OF THE IMAGE THROUGH THE GRAIN OF THE PHOTOGRAPHIC FILM AND VIDEOGRAPHY. MY WORK IS A KIND OF DIARY THAT TRAVELS TIME. IT IS A TIMELESS, UNCERTAIN, AND SUSPENDED SPACE, LIKE THE WHITE SPACE 

BETWEEN WORDS, LIKE BREATHING, LIKE SILENCE. »

My universe feeds on contemplation a bit like Arthur Rimbaud, on modern and contemporary literature and the environment. My photographic, pictorial and literary creations testify to a sensitive look at uncertain temporal spaces, between dream and reality.

“THE QUESTION OF TRUTH WAS ERADICATED AT THE MOMENT

WHERE THE IMAGE FORMED ANOTHER REALITY. MY REALITY.

ANOTHER TRUTH THAT I REINVENT AS I GO. I WRITE MY PHOTOGRAPHY, I LIVE IT, I SEE IT.

IT IS NOT A MEMORY, IT IS AN IMPRINT, A WRITING MADE OF COLORED OR MONOCHROMIC GRAINS. SHE REPRESENTS WHAT I CANNOT WRITE. »

“Searching, exchanging, questioning, activating production and process modes and spaces lead me and motivate me to learn by doing.” So many verbs that were incentives during my studies and which today are therefore actualized in my artistic practice. I remember always wanting to photograph: to see through. Through the lens, as a kind of protection of my soul, of my privacy. And yet... And yet, I offer my body, fragments of me to sensitive film. I try to transfer my sensitivity to paper. I often photographed what I could not write. And vice versa. Societal issues revolving around women, the body, memory or the environment cross my fields of questioning. I like varied techniques and mediums, for example, I often work on the links that literature and writing can have with images.

[ IDENTITY, FEMININITY ] Through a search for identity mixed with the tumult of the world: images of the body written, naked, without pageantry. The body and the world are both separated and linked. I wonder about the poetic links uniting between the human being and nature. The means and materials accumulate, undergo the assaults of nature and the body, meanwhile, undergoes the scratches of time 

and its writing.

[ MATERIAL ] I use raw, organic and bodily matter as writing. Write a moment, instants, poetry, prose, words, sounds on the same material. The gestures of the painter and the writer at the same time are transcribed in encrypted works with variable readings. Materiality is indeed omnipresent in my work. Through the texture of the image, she relates the natural state of the landscape and the body in transition.

[ LANGUAGE & WRITING ] Create a new language, one that questions its essence. What is the language shared between a body and its environment? What trace does it leave behind and in nature? Images of singular fragility emerge from this research, they bathe in a refined, silent atmosphere. We dive into a universe on the border between dream and reality, in a dialogue between the landscape and the body.

[thatzombiecat]

Character building 16 and 25

Elayne von Valancius: Rogue Trader Character Building ask game

[16.]

What is Elayne's Archetype?

She's an Operative/Assassin who possesses a mind of an analyst and does what she do best: she's an adept of reading people, determining their strong sides and weaknesses, then using this for her advantage to strike with the most precision.

[25.]

Wildcard: Share a fun fact, random thought, or headcanon about her!

Ohhhh, I love it, let's go random facts! :D When Elayne overheard that encrypted conversation exchange between Heinrix and his agent Achilleas Scalander, it surely peaked her curiosity and she couldn't get it out of her head. She found it fascinating and has been almost certain she cracked the code of what they were talking about, so being a highly intellectual individual the encrypted manner intrigued her.

And as they got close enough, Heinrix introduced to her his form of glossia that Elayne quickly picked up. They from now on often used their own glossia cipher that they've been developing further together on the go, when conversing something they deem private or communicating while on a missions, making up a new metaphoric patterns and constructions every time which both of them understand by heart.

P.S btw also lately I've been enjoying Dan Abnett's 'Inquisitor' series SOOO MUCH I'm really digging it. And 'Eisenhorn' trilogy is just insanely good! Please read it if you didn't yet and if you love Rogue Trader's narrative and Heinrix writing especially, it has a similar feel fr.

And it touches topic of the use of glossia really extensively and it's been used quite often throughout the novels, in case if you're also curious how does it work. I just fell in love with it's linguistics formation and I headcanon their glossia form would be even more poetic!

---

Previous questions:

[1, 7, 11]

[3, 4]

[8,18]

[10]

[19]

[24]

OC: Elayne Andar van der Ghiessen von Valancius