#the latter is more intuitive but also really funny to look at for some reason

[saxiphonoart]

Just a couple of gals standing next to a timespace paradox. Typical girl stuff.

[tsumuniri]

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ prev┃next

TWO ━━ THE GIRL NEIGHBOR

THE FORTUNE OF GETTING EVERYTHING Atsumu desired had always blessed his luck in his twenty-three years of living on this habitable planet— may it be in his talents for the ball sport or even outside his athletic career. This man surely knew what it means to be spoiled by the gods as they loomed over his being and guided him through the prosperity of his lifetime. He was a guy who could attain his dreams by any means necessary.

So, here he is, debating on which detergent he should buy because he had finally moved into the apartment his brother recommended.

He hasn't settled in at the moment. The room he rented was still a mess of cardboard boxes full of his things piling up on top of each other. It was a new environment for the male as he had always stuck to Osamu throughout his life; they were partners in crime after all.

That was when he decided what was his current goal at the moment; to survive a week of living alone without asking for his brother's help. Hence, the reason why he's here in the cleaning aisle of the grocery close by, having difficulty in choosing if he should use powder or liquid detergents.

"Are you stupid or something?" An irritated voice spoke up from behind the setter's crouching figure. Atsumu sneaked a glance over his shoulder and lazily grinned at his teammate and friend. "Great timing, Omi-kun!" He chirped, standing up from his last position before turning around to face the ravenette.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, "For your information, buying cleaning products isn't the only thing I do. I just like my place and myself to be tidy. Can we also quicken up the pace, please?" He spoke out his thoughts as he got one of the liquid detergents set on the shelves, carefully placing it inside the grocery basket.

"Didn't know you'll get offended by my texts. I was only joking about that time you bought that many cleaning products," The blonde shrugged his shoulders casually, "It was a funny sight. You really looked like a janitor that time." He snickered at the memory of the other with the bags full of cleaning supplies.

Sakusa clicked his tongue and took a step past Atsumu, "I don't usually buy that many supplies. Half of those were for Bokuto-san and Hinata-san," He held the two metal handles of the grocery basket, hoisting the holder up as he let it hang by the side of his thigh. "Speaking of those two, they already texted me that they've finally arrived at your new apartment in Morinomiya. They mentioned your brother also dropped by with some onigiri." He notified the other male.

Atsumu grumbled from his teammate's words as he followed Sakusa's trail towards the snacks aisle. "Ya mean the same brother who decided to betray me?" He mumbled, his expression seeming like a child who just got grounded by their parents for a whole week.

"And yet, you still visit his Onigiri place in the city. You love him, don't be sissy about it. You got kicked out because you were too complacent, and unlike during your high school days, you realized that your brother wouldn't be there for you all the time."

The blonde stayed silent, most likely agreeing with the ravenette's statement. Although the two brothers argued for a while after Osamu announced the unfortunate news about his twin's boot out of the household, Atsumu knew that it was the best for both of them as it was time for him to get an apartment (even if he sort of dislikes the idea of moving).

Despite him understanding this, it wouldn't hurt to be a drama queen for once.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Atsumu mouthed as he motioned his hand in upward movements, walking over to the cashier register to check out their groceries. A frown etched on Sakusa's face from under his white face mask, not a slight bit amused by the latter's laid-back composure. He adjusted his grip on the basket's handle then followed behind to the location of the check-out counter.

The cashier, who looked as if she was currently in high school, kept on stealing glances between the blonde male and the cleaning supplies she was checking out. With lips pursed from her thoughts, her eyes slightly squinted every time it landed on Atsumu.

'What is this girl's problem?' He thought, raising his brows at the girl's serious expression. He cleared his throat and let his eyes wandered around the vicinity to distract himself from the cashier's peeks.

After the uncanny interaction with the young cashier, the two volleyball players made their way to the newly-built apartment building that the blonde-haired setter is now residing. From what the raven-haired outside hitter mentioned before, their two other teammates had already ordered two boxes of pizza and couldn't help but devour its cheesy goodness once it arrives. Atsumu quickened his pace from the newly-given information as he wouldn't like to meet the sight of two empty pizza boxes in his apartment.

"Tsumu-Tsum! Great timing. The pizzas are here!" Bokuto cheered after seeing his two comrades walked in from the front door. His eyes lit up while his mouth formed into a wide smile— almost looking like he won the jackpot of a million yen (not like he needs it anyway since he earns more than that).

A certain tangerine-haired male was already munching a slice beside him, "Omir-shan, Arsurmu-shan," Hinata said, mouth full of pizza dough and toppings. He then chewed the last bit of bread and swallowed the piece down his throat, "Welcome back! I like the new place, by the way, Atsumu-san!" He ended his statement, taking another slice from the pizza box.

Sakusa cringed from the mess on the table and how their two reckless teammates ate the freshly-oven baked slices. He lowered the grocery bag he was carrying on one of the moving boxes beside him as Atsumu followed suit. "Did you guys even washed your hands before eating?" The masked male straightly asked as he sat down on the carpeted floor.

"Don't worry. We did! Bokuto-san even brought the hand sanitizer that Akaashi-san bought for him." Hinata replied, scooching over to the side as he gestured Atsumu with a nod of his head.

Atsumu walked over to his side of the table, taking the spot the short male had spared for him. The blonde then lifted the closed pizza box with his right hand and almost gagged at the chosen toppings, "You guys ordered two Hawaiians? That's sickening." Atsumu stuck his tongue out in disgust and lowered the box's paper lid, deciding to get one of his brother's onigiris instead.

"I'm the one who invited you all here to celebrate my new home, and yet, you guys wanted to be douchebags by ordering my least favorite flavor of pizza."

"You're the only person here who doesn't like pineapples on a pizza, Atsumu-san." Sakusa pointed out, moving the face mask under his chin with his index finger then taking a bite on his slice of the Hawaiin pizza. "Besides, it's three-to-one. You wouldn't win at all." He added, to which the other two avid pineapple lovers agreed with hums of satisfaction.

A thought suddenly popped in Bokuto's mind as he licked the tomato sauce off the tip of his fingers. "Oh yeah! I met a cute girl while I was waiting for Hinata outside your apartment. She also moved in just a few days ago, and guess what? She's living in the room across from you!" He stated out of the blue and laughed lightly at how it was such a coincidence.

This statement caught the attention of the other three, mainly the blonde-headed volleyball player.

"Maybe you could give your new neighbor some onigiri, Atsumu! Like a welcome gift!" Hinata grinned widely, his tone having a trace of excitement as he began eating another slice of the Hawaiian pizza.

Atsumu casually shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe..." He trailed off before taking a bite off the seaweed-rice snack.

The horologe of time had passed by quickly as the blazing sun settled down for the glowing moon to shun upon the busy streets of Osaka, the twinkling stars glittering the night sky with constellations and patches of galaxies from a distance. The simple gathering ended and left the room in peaceful silence. However, Atsumu was still sitting on the floor, his legs overlapping each other as his arms crossed against his built chest.

"Should I?"

He thought out loud as his eyes stare at the box of left-over onigiri. The blonde heaved out a breath through his nostrils before he stood up from his position, patting the dust particles off his bottom. He reached over the box, not bothering to transfer the contents in another container since it would've taken another set of minutes in trying to search for one.

"Here we go." Atsumu swung the door open and immediately noticed the door from across was slightly opened. No light was emitting from the inside. It triggered the male's intuition to check the situation of his neighbor as the scenario of a burglar robbing a harmless female concerned him greatly.

With a slight push of his hand, the door eerily creaked like it was a prop in a horror movie set-up. His eyes tried to look into the dark apartment. But unfortunately, the moving packages were stacked in every spot of the apartment, making it difficult for his peripheral vision to catch anything suspicious of some kind. "Hello?" He called out and didn't get any answer.

'I swear to the gods... If I'm getting killed by a serial killer.'

It's his fault for watching those horror movies in the past. If he hadn't watched that one texas killer with the chainsaw, he wouldn't have gotten scared at all. Atsumu's heart thumped loudly against his ribcage from the anxiety of having to roam around this creepy apartment.

A groan echoed off the walls, stopping the male from his tracks as his body froze like a statue. His throat went dry while his palms started to sweat when he felt an unknown presence creeping up behind him. He closed his eyes shut and quickly spun around to greet the unknown person with a power punch, "Get the fuck away, demon!" Atsumu screeched, still holding onto the box of onigiri safely in the other hand.

"Ouch! Why the heck did you do that for?"

Atsumu peeked his eye open and found you sprawled on the wooden floor, hissing in pain as you caressed your bruised cheek. You were wearing your pajamas as it seemed like you had just woken up from your slumber.

Oops. It's a false alarm, after all.

## it’s gonna get good boiz

## taglist: @underratedmage ; @haikyuuwifu (if you guys wanna be added in the taglist, please comment down! :>)

[sunarintavouz]

Be In Love

Description: It all started when Sakusa agreed to be Atsumu’s date at an old teammate’s wedding. 

And that’s when Sakusa realized that his feelings were fucked. 

Pairings: Sakuatsu (side Sunakita and Osaaka)

Words: 3438 (incomplete)

Sakusa Kiyoomi enters the fast food chain, furrowing his eyebrows as he doesn’t like the ambiance it gives off, he isn’t the type to eat fast food meals but the person he was meeting sent the chain as their meeting place.

Said person is on the corner by the four-person table--eating. Kiyoomi sits in front of him, but wasn’t completely fazed by him. 

“Miya-san” he calls impatiently. 

Atsumu places his burger down. Smiling at the younger who seems to be grumpier than earlier.

“Omi-kun, how many times do I have to say you can call me ‘Tsumu” the blond smiles.

“And I told you not to call me Omi-kun,” Kiyoomi replied. “Why did you even call me? And why even here?”

“I am craving burgers excuse me” Atsumu shrugs, but seconds later he grabs something from the pocket of his coat. Kiyoomi picks it up from the table--it was an invitation, all wrinkled and ripped.

“Kita Shinsuke. Suna Rintarou. Wedding” he reads. The names do ring a bell, but Kiyoomi couldn’t quite put a finger on it. 

“They’re my old teammates” Atsumu stated without him asking. “And Kita’s my ex-boyfriend”

“Oh” Kiyoomi thought, feeling a heavy burden on his shoulders. “I don’t know what it has to do with me” Actually he does, Kiyoomi knows this stuff too much. He has known Atsumu for too long. Maybe two years is enough to know that the older takes too much pride in himself, he always wanted to be in the spotlight or if not, at least be able to blend in. 

Kiyoomi knows wedding stuff, dates, watching two people exchange vows and kiss in front of a crowd, plus the foods and dances. Atsumu wants to atleast have pride in him enough to attend his ex-lover’s wedding. 

And that’s where Kiyoomi enters. 

“Accompany me on their wedding….err, I just want an accompany so that I won’t be lonely” he stated. 

“Osamu?”

“He’s bringing Akaashi” Atsumu interjects quickly, followed by a deep sigh. 

“You know me for many years Omi-kun. I actually don’t want to attend, but it’ll make me look like a bitter ex-boyfriend--” “Why? Because you haven’t moved on from him?”

Atsumu became quiet. Kiyoomi got his answers. 

“No wonder”

Atsumu smiles bitterly, brushing his blond hair out of frustration. “Let’s not get into it Omi-kun. Look, do you want to accompany me or not?”

“Depends, what do I get for having myself be dragged into this mess” 

“Ugh Omi-kun” 

“I’m just kidding Miya-san,” Kiyoomi laughs, making Atsumu look at him.

“Sure, I’ll accompany you” 

-

Kiyoomi wonders what spell Atsumu casted on him that made him say yes. 

It was a rainy Saturday morning when Atsumu picked him up from his apartment. The sun is still hiding behind the clouds and drizzle of raindrops are falling on the car. There was a weird tense inside the car that the younger couldn’t quite figure out. Atsumu looks so nervous yet serious while driving. 

Maybe it was because he’s on his way to his ex-boyfriend’s wedding, of course that’ll be the reason. Stupid Kiyoomi, he grunts silently by his thoughts. Looking to the window next to him to see where the destination will be.

“It’s a garden wedding near a cliff below the ocean. Enough to see the sunset exactly the time of the wedding ceremony. It’ll be beautiful and wonderful, just like what Kita-san dreamt of” Atsumu stated, making Kiyoomi glance at him. 

“Are you sure that you weren’t the one who organized the wedding?” Kiyoomi butts out a joke.

“No” the latter bitterly replies. “But he keeps on babbling how our wedding would look like back then” 

There was a moment of silence between them, the drive was still long and Kiyoomi can’t bear the awkward atmosphere both of them made. 

“You nervous?”

“That’s a funny question Omi-kun. Of course, who wouldn’t be nervous about attending their ex-boyfriend’s wedding?”

And the fact that he’s not over Kita, Atsumu’s hands are sweating cold as he drives towards the venue. He was not really planning on attending it but his jerk of a twin brother Osamu beat him out of it. All he had to do was endure it, he was just lucky that he had Kiyoomi to accompany him. It was funny, he thinks. How he managed to convince Kiyoomi to say yes. 

“You know that you can just not attend right?” Kiyoomi convinces. 

But instead of answering him, Atsumu steps on the gas pedal even harder, driving faster than the usual pace. Kiyoomi kept quiet as he didn't want to bother his friend anymore. 

-

The venue was breathtaking, Kiyoomi thinks. The sun was shining when they arrived at the mentioned venue. There were only a few people there, maybe 50 or a hundred he counts. The color motif was aligned with neutral tones and no exaggerated designs can be found, it seems like the couple decided on a minimal wedding. 

“God Omi-kun, even here ya have to wear a mask?” Atsumu complains as they step out of the car. 

“Yes” he replied shortly, a hundred people is still a crowd after all. 

The two of them walked towards the garden where chairs are aligned, Kiyoomi can recognize some of them, probably people whom he met back in high school during the Nationals. Atsumu seemed to be off from his tenses, greeting his old teammates whom he found in the middle of the crowd. 

Kiyoomi was about to follow him when a hand grabbed his shoulders lightly making him turn around. 

“Komori?” 

“I knew it was you!” his cousin laughs, they met last week but Kiyoomi wasn’t able to tell him that he’ll attend the wedding and it was surprising of him to bumped into Motoya here.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, noticing the baby blue suit of Motoya plus the lilac brooch on his right chest. 

“It’s Sunarin’s wedding dummy! Of course the whole ejp team is here, but me and Washio are the best man” Motoya said proudly. Kiyoomi only nods, he almost forgot that his cousin is teammates with Rintarou. 

Small world, he thinks.

“How about you? I didn’t know you’re close with them” Motoya interrogates. 

“I am not” he bluntly says. “Atsumu asked me to accompany him” 

Motoya’s expression changes from a teasing one, making Kiyoomi glare at him. 

“Don’t think of it in a wrong way”

“Oh I am certainly not thinking of it in a wrong way” Motoya defends but there’s a smug smile on his face. 

But before their conversation could go longer, their attention was called by the wedding planner---the wedding is about to start in a few minutes.

“Well, I have to find Washio now. Goodluck on your date” Motoya says.

“It’s not a date” he sneers but Motoya only laughed at him and left him there.

“There you are!” Kiyoomi turns around to see Atsumu walking towards him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for ya!”

“I bumped into Komori, he’s also here,” Kiyoomi explains.

Atsumu only hums. “Yeah, heard he is Rin’s best man, but anyways, we should go back to our chairs, ‘Samu saved us some” 

Kiyoomi only followed the older towards the chairs. A few guests were already seated there and the two of them chose the seat on the right, Kiyoomi can recognize a few people around them--and he was right, they’re seated beside the old Inarizaki team.

In front of the altar there stood Suna Rintarou, wearing a white coat suit with his hands held together in a fist, he looked so calm as he was smiling from ear to ear. 

“It’s not obvious but I bet Rin’s nervous as fuck” Osamu taunted making Kiyoomi and Atsumu look at him.

“Who wouldn’t be nervous, he’s marrying the Kita Shinsuke” Hitoshi jokes. 

“But look at ‘Tsumu, he’s not marrying Kita-san but he looks more nervous than Rin” Osamu teases making Atsumu punch him on the shoulders. Osamu fought back but Atsumu didn't want to be the sour loser.

“Goddamnit you two even in Shinsuke’s wedding, the two of you will still make a scene” Aran fumes. 

“Yeah! You two tone it down won’t ya? That’s embarrassing for your boyfriends” Michinari stated.

Osamu stops first, calming down as Keiji holds his hands. Atsumu only grunts, facing back towards the altar as Kiyoomi could only glance at him. 

The music began playing which made everyone stand up to give respect to the groom. Kiyoomi turned around and saw Shinsuke in his white suit, holding a bouquet of lilacs and white roses. He was smiling from ear to ear as he slowly walked onto the aisle. It was breathtaking, the sun is about to set in a few minutes and all Kiyoomi can thinks is how the purple-pink and orange sky made the ambiance more lovely and warm, everyone was smiling as they witnessed Rintarou accept Shinsuke’s hands and as they faced each other, the two of them let out a soft chuckle, embarrassed like two teenage boys who just confessed their first love to each other. 

Everything feels like they’re in euphoria, but when Kiyoomi remembers the reason why he was here in the first place, he had the intuition to look at Atsumu. 

Atsumu with his eyes locked on the gray-haired man who’s brightly looking at somebody else--it must have taken him a lot of courage to go here and witness all of these. Kiyoomi can see, he has a smile plastered on his face. But the latter knows that deep inside he’s not fine. 

Still, Kiyoomi doesn’t want to think about it for a moment.

-

The ceremony ended quickly. Now Kiyoomi is in a large rounded table with some of the old Inarizaki team at the reception. The dinner ended quickly with the host presenting the newly-wed couple. Doing some traditions like toasting the glass of wine and slicing the cake. Aran and Osamu had the opportunity to share their stories about Rintarou and Shinsuke making the atmosphere more livelier as their bright and funny stories bring ease that the couple were always meant to be. 

Kiyoomi was trying to enjoy it. Trying to socialize with Atsumu’s old team or maybe try to find his cousin to talk with, but his mind was somewhere else. He can’t help but ponder what is running inside Atsumu’s head at the moment. 

“Let us now all welcome the couple’s first dance! Anyone who wants to dance with their significant other can join our newly-wed couple on the dance floor.” the host announces. 

Another bright song starts to play, Rintarou drags a shy Shinsuke in the middle, getting a lot of teasing from the crowd. At first, the older was hesitant but later on, places his arms around Rintarou’s shoulders as they dance slowly to the song. 

“Keiji?” Kiyoomi hears Osamu’s voice. 

“That’s embarrassing of you ‘Samu” the latter chuckles but still accepts Osamu’s offer to dance with him. 

Kiyoomi looked at all the couples’ flooding the dance floor. Everyone was on their own world, as if the spotlight was on them. Kiyoomi can’t help but smile as he saw his cousin dancing with the person he’s been pining on. Finally, Kiyoomi thinks. Motoya now has the confidence to talk to him. 

But the smile faded as he heard Atsumu grunt loudly. He glances at him who wasn’t looking at the dance floor. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Kiyoomi asked out of nowhere. 

“I don’t dance Kiyoomi” Atsumu answers. 

“Oh”

“But do you care if you join me for a walk?” the blond interjects

Kiyoomi nods. Maybe a walk can lighten up Atsumu’s mood. 

The sky looks more prettier in pitch black with glittering stars scattered. Kiyoomi looks up as he follows Atsumu somewhere far from the reception. Not noticing that they’ve reached the end of the place. They’re near the edge of the cliff, the waves crashing on the rocks below can be heard just like how the wind blew more strongly. 

Quietly, the two of them stared at the vast ocean. It was dim there but Kiyoomi can see the bitter smile on Atsumu’s lips. 

“He always wanted a wedding like these.” Atsumu started. Kiyoomi only kept his silence, waiting for another word to slip out of the older’s mouth. 

“An afternoon wedding where the sun is setting then a night reception where the ambiance is much cooler. He doesn’t need extravagant decorations but he was picky on the flowers. Kita-san wants lilacs, it symbolizes innocence and purity, like a high school love. He always knows that he’ll find love in his high school days” the latter laughs sarcastically. “But I guess that wasn’t me” 

“Did the two of you...dated back in high school?” Kiyoomi asked. 

“No. But I confessed to him back in high school. He told me he’ll wait for me and he did, we dated when I was in college, we’ve been together for two years. That’s enough right?” Kiyoomi only nods even though he doesn’t understand what Atsumu was pointing out. “That was enough to be assured by your future with him. It was enough to think that everything was settled and there’s nothing to be worried about” 

“Are you mad at Suna-san?” 

“Not at all. Because if I do, then what the hell am I doing here?” Atsumu pointed out

“I’m confused Miya-san” Kiyoomi lets out a chuckle. 

“Don’t call me that Omi-kun, Osamu’s a Miya too” 

Kiyoomi thinks that Atsumu only too brokenhearted that he’s now babbling random stuff. He wasn’t bitter, that’s what the younger is sure. Atsumu only needed air to breathe in and absorb things, he wasn’t able to answer Kiyoomi’s question but the latter ignored it, what matters is Atsumu right now. The two remained quiet, leaning against the railings of the cliff, Atsumu was looking at the raven-blue ocean underneath him while Kiyoomi looked up at the sky, the clouds fading slowly to show the full moon of spring’s night. It was cold and windy and yet the warm presence of each other gave them ease and tranquility. 

“We should go back now, I need another glass of wine,” Atsumu suggested. 

Kiyoomi forehead’s creased. “I’m driving tonight if you got drunk” 

Atsumu only laughs at him.

As they went back to their table, Kiyoomi noticed two familiar faces with them. Atsumu stops abruptly as Shinsuke turns around to give them a smile.

“There you are! I’ve been looking for ya everywhere” Shinsuke brightly greeted. 

“We went for a walk, have you met Omi-kun?” Atsumu introduces, Shinsuke only gave Kiyoomi a small wave before he quickly turned his attention to Atsumu. “Do you mind if I can borrow you for a moment?” 

Atsumu quickly glances at Kiyoomi who only gave him a reassuring smile. Hesitant at first, the blond only looked at Shinsuke for a minute but later on, accepted the groom’s request. 

“And with that, I am keeping you company,” Rintarou laughs as he sits next to Kiyoomi. A glass of wine was toasted to each other as both of them looked at Shinsuke and Atsumu dancing. 

“You know I never expect Atsumu to attend our wedding” Rintarou started. “And I never expect him to have you as his date, Motoya’s cousin” 

“Why do you think of that?” he asked with much curiosity. 

“Maybe because it was for the fact that I stole Shinsuke from him?” Kiyoomi glances at him with a disgusted look.

“Kidding! They broke up when Shinsuke and I started dating so don’t come at me alright?” Rintarou replies smugly. “But it’s nice to think that you’re here” 

“Were you expecting me”

Rintarou hums. “I kinda know you through Motoya’s stories, he always told me that you’re not that great at socializing with other people this and that, blah blah blah but! You’re here and as Atsumu’s date”

“Miya-san’s not my date” Kiyoomi clarifies. 

“Date or not, you still agreed to accompany him, and as I based it from Motoya’s stories, you don’t like socializing. So if I connect the dots” Rintarou snaps his fingers. “Atsumu must be really something for ya” 

Something? Rintarou must have misunderstood him. Atsumu is just annoying and a jerk in the eyes of Kiyoomi, why would he mean something for him?

Alright so what if even though he’s annoying, Kiyoomi still enjoys the company of Atsumu? Atsumu may be a jerk but he’s a great person inside, it's just that, his annoying attitude comes out more often which irritates Kiyoomi and yet, the black-haired man won’t hesitate to say yes when Atsumu ask for favors, he knows that if he rejects it, the blond would be pestering him till he say yes. 

What does a person have to be something to mean to a certain someone? What does Miya Atsumu have and did to be told that he means something to Sakusa Kiyoomi? Maybe in the two years of being teammates Kiyoomi knows him more than the rest, maybe because Kiyoomi was there when Atsumu gets homesick or if he just wants to practice more, Kiyoomi is willing to spike his sets? Was all of that mean so much that all Kiyoomi thinks during the whole wedding day was thinking if Atsumu was fine? 

“Shit” he muttered. 

Kiyoomi likes Atsumu.

“Oh dear” Rintarou laughs. “Did you just realized that you like Atsumu?” the latter teases. 

“I don’t know” his words fall off quietly. He doesn’t know if what he was feeling right now for Atsumu is a liking. Maybe respect can be the word but no, that’s way too different. “How do you even tell if you like a person?”

Rintarou took a sip on his wine. “I guess you’re one of the people who doesn’t fall in love that often”

“I’m not that coldhearted Suna-san” 

“Maybe I should ask your cousin then,” 

Kiyoomi became quiet by that, letting the groom think whatever he wanted. His eyes wandered at Atsumu and Shinsuke. They were both still dancing but now they were talking. Atsumu looks so frightened, as if he was dancing with a boy made out of thin ice. Shinsuke surely is Atsumu’s first love. 

There’s no way Atsumu can get over him. 

The wedding ended within the midnight followed by a small fireworks display and sparkles which everyone adored and enjoyed. It took a while for Kiyoomi to see the bright smile on Atsumu’s face. After the dance, he was more relaxed than before and Kiyoomi must admit that Shinsuke must be really something. 

On their way back home, Atsumu was smiling from ear-to-ear which bugs the daylights out of Kiyoomi, as if earlier he looks so constipated. 

“Are you drunk?” Kiyoomi asked. 

Atsumu laughed at him. Kiyoomi takes that answer that he is drunk. 

“Omi-kun lighten up! I am fine, I can drive see?”

“You’re overspeeding at a steep road” the younger pointed out

“Let me drive in peace will ya?”

Kiyoomi lets him. Afterall, he wasn't ready to be in a conversation with Atsumu all alone after the conversation he had with Rintarou, he is freaking out deep inside! His forehead creases by the thought, him freaking out because of Miya Atsumu? Doesn't sound like him--which is also the reason why! He was freaking out. 

“Hey. You’ve been quiet, what got into you?” Atsumu asked suddenly

“You told me to let you drive in peace” the latter stated. 

“Yeah but being too quiet is not peaceful” 

“We have music Miya-san”

“Just talk to me Omi-kun!” 

Surprised, Kiyoomi’s eyes widened by Atsumu’s request. Heart starts beating fast that his fear and worries disappeared. He looked at the blond who’s eyes now focused on the road, Atsumu wasn’t that mad but it hinted despair in his tone. What exactly is going with him?

Kiyoomi let’s out a sigh as he leans his head against the headrest. “What happened?” 

Atsumu’s forehead creases. “What do you mean?”

“Back then, when it was just you and Kita-san dancing”

Atsumu hums for a second “He was glad that I went to his wedding,” but then smiles sadly. “And that I wasn’t lonely” 

“Is he thinking that--”

“We’re together? Yeah” the blond chuckles bitterly. “I mean no offense Omi-kun, yer hot but--”

“And bold of you to think that I would date your piss hair” Atsumu clutches onto his heart, acting like he was hurt. “God Omi-kun! That hurts you know?”

“Good”

Atsumu pouts. “Omi-kun yer always bad at me,” then, he lets out a sigh. “But you know what Omi-kun, I am glad that you accompanied me. Thank you” 

“It’s nothing Miya-san,” Kiyoomi said with a blunt tone but deep inside he was also glad to accompany the latter.

[jasonbehrs]

i wanna read every word, chapter 2

by airauralintensity (aka me, jasonbehrs!)

“Have you ever fallen in love with someone you’ve never met?” “Uh, do you mean like we’ve-been-doing-long-distance-slash-online-dating or like I’ve-been-crushing-on-the-cute-barista-at-the-library-cafe?” “Ummm, more like I’ve-read-their-poems-and-sure-they’re-very-talented-but-their-handwriting-alone-makes-me-smile.” “… That’s oddly specific.”

fandom: kpop, super junior characters: eunhyuk, ryeowook; guest appearances by the rest of sj-m and yesung ship: eunwook genre: romantic comedy themes: alternate endings, strangers to lovers, handwriting, identity reveal setting: college chapter: 2/4 word count: 5.2k

read it below or on ffnet, aff, wattpad

A/N (6.6.2021): Welcome to the next installment folks! Some clarifying things:

- This is the first of two alternate endings to the story, which answers the question, 'What if Ryeowook finds out first?'

- I got some interesting reviews/PMs about the last chapter? Eunhyuk isn't pining after Yesung or anything, and I didn't mean to indicate that would be an aspect of the story. If you were looking forward to it, I'll be disappointing you today haha. Feel free to let me know how much you hate me in a review ;)

Also, today would have been my grandmother's 102nd birthday, so I'm dedicating this chapter to her since she always loved seeing me write. Love you, Nanay!

~~~

He and Hyukjae haven't hung out alone before, but he's sure this won't be awkward. Their only real link may have just been Yesung, but Hyukjae successfully ingrained himself into their entire friend group in the short weeks since they first met. Besides, even if Hyukjae weren't so willing to help him with his twisted scavenger hunt for love, Ryeowook thinks he'd like to hang out with him some time anyway. He's grown to like Hyukjae, really.

At least, that's what he tells himself when he turns the corner and sees Hyukjae sitting alone on a bench in the quad with his legs crossed, a laptop over one knee and an open notebook on the other, waiting for him to arrive.

Ryeowook takes a breath to steel his nerves then heads over to plop himself right next to the other. He doesn't say anything and takes out his own work instead. They don't have to start with the crush thing.

"Ah, my favourite person under 5'2". How do you do?" Hyukjae snarks without pausing his typing.

In response, Ryeowook uses a single finger to tip Hyukjae's notebook onto the ground without remorse.

"Ya!" Hyukjae picks up his notebook and slaps Ryeowook with it.

On the downswing, Ryeowook freezes.

"Oh shit, did I hit you that hard? Sorry, I didn't mean to," Hyukjae hurriedly apologises, but that's not it at all.

Ryeowook had caught a glimpse of the notes hurriedly scrawled across the open book. He would recognise that handwriting anywhere.

"Why don't we get started then," Hyukjae offers uneasily, eyeing how Ryeowook's stance hadn't relaxed yet. "Um, did you bring a copy of one of the notes like we discussed?"

Of course he did. Ryeowook was so excited to be one step closer to identifying the person behind the song lyrics that took up as much space in his brain as his Food Sciences lecture notes, he had brought the whole ass scrapbook with him, eager to show off his favourites to a new and willing audience.

But now, Ryeowook is panicking. He found the object of his affections much sooner than for which he was ready; and said object is sitting right next to him, staring at him expectantly and eager to help.

Not letting himself think it through, Ryeowook rummages through his bag looking for viable scraps of paper. There is no way he is going to hand Hyukjae's own work to him, so he makes do with what he's got.

He bypasses the lyric samples he actually prepared for today's meeting and found ones of his own making which he had intended to recycle weeks ago but never got around to. He silently thanks himself for this terrible habit as he frantically smooths out the small squares of paper before handing them to Hyukjae.

The other raises his eyebrows as he reads through the papers. "Damn, I was hoping that maybe one of these things had even a little similarity to an assignment we've heard so far, but no dice."

Ryeowook nods, affecting understanding disappointment even as he privately rejoices.

"Do you mind if I keep these? I can, like, surreptitiously check people's notebooks during group assignments," he offers with a laugh. "Pearl blue sticky notes can't be that common in a class of 50, right?''

Ryeowook smiles, wide and fake. "Fingers crossed!"

~Even though we're making awkward conversation, it's clear that we're happy to be together.~

Thus proceeds their search for Poem Person. (The gender-neutral nickname Mi had come up with stuck even after Hyukjae revealed those were not actually poems being left behind. Alliterative nicknames are just so catchy.)

"Okay, what if we tie a balloon to your chair and hope Poem Person likes balloons enough to take it with them around campus?" "No way, they won't take it." "How could you possibly be so sure?"

Sometimes, it's Hyukjae coming up with ridiculous plots.

"Trust me. They curl their lowercase L's." "I'm gonna let this go, but I want you to know that makes zero sense."

Plots which Ryeowook foils with equally ridiculous reasoning.

"''We might have never known each other, but we crossed faraway paths and came together. We crossed the distance of a stranger that's farther away than space.' Huh, not bad." "You think so?"

Sometimes, it's Hyukjae asking to read more of the scraps that Ryeowook collects, partially so Hyukjae can make fun of him, but mostly so that he has more clues.

"Yeah. I mean, it doesn't help me at all, but your man's got a way with words. I wonder why he doesn't submit any of the stuff you've shown me for class. It's worth critiquing."

An ask which forces Ryeowook to wrack his brain for passable imitations of song-lyrics-that-could-be-mistakenly-construed-as-poems and to get used to writing with his nondominant hand.

"Pass. Pass. Pass. Pass." "Really? You're passing on Park Hyungsik?"

Today, neither of them are feeling very motivated, so Hyukjae pulls up the Facebook profiles of his classmates and let Ryeowook play smash or pass because "it's fun to hear strangers' opinions on people you know."

"Oh, absolutely. Does that guy look like he cares where he dots his i's and j's? Hard pass," Ryeowook maintains.

Hyukjae shakes his head in amazement as he pulls back his phone. "You'll meet him one day, and you'll regret this moment; mark my words. Hyungsik is universally loved. Honestly, I'm not convinced yet Poem Person isn't him. He fits basically all of your criteria."

Ryeowook has to actively smother a knowing smirk. "What a shame."

He didn't come clean to Hyukjae in the quad that day because he panicked. Ryeowook was not mentally ready to meet the object of his affections so soon, much more confess, so he acted on impulse to buy himself some time.

Once he had it, he got curious.

It's no secret that Ryeowook had built up an idea of what Poem Person is like. The lyrics provided some insight, of course; but most of his intuition came from the handwriting itself. From what he could see, Poem Person was supposed to be intensely passionate, excitingly impulsive, and almost sickeningly romantic.

"Okay, how about this guy?" Hyukjae asks as he passes his phone over again.

Ryeowook takes one look at the screen and snorts. "Very funny. Pass."

The app is opened to a photo of Hyukjae himself posed unnaturally on a couch wearing a forward-facing snapback perched atop his head and an awkward half-smile, and Ryeowook refuses to look at it any longer before he does something he'll regret, like coo affectionately.

"Pass!?" Hyukjae repeats with mock-incredulity. "Don't you think he looks charming and witty and oh-so-loveable?"

Ryeowook indeed had a lot of thoughts about what Poem Person would look like, and 'charming,' 'witty,' and 'oh-so-loveable' have indeed flitted through his mind. Actually, Ryeowook finds that Hyukjae and Poem Person aren't altogether dissimilar.

Hyukjae is passionate about his craft, to be sure, but it doesn't occupy every one of his waking moments like Ryeowook expected. He is as much of a romantic as the next person is, but really Hyukjae is poetic, a distinction Ryeowook learns and appreciates very early on. Hyukjae is a little too thoughtful to be so impulsive, but his quick wit and ability to do/say/become whatever a situation calls for more than fulfill the quota for chaos that underlay Ryeowook's original supposition.

So yes, Ryeowook is withholding the truth so that he can slot the person he made up in his head into the person Hyukjae is, but it's been worth it.

"He looks like a brat and like his feet smell." "YAH! My shoes don't breathe!" "Get better shoes, then." "Give me the money, then." "Get a job, then." "That's not fair! Helping you find Poem Person is basically my part-time job!" "Consider it more of an unpaid internship."

Before Hyukjae takes his turn to volley back, his phone rings in his hand.

"Ah, as much fun as this was, I gotta go. I have a mini-showcase coming up, and I've been slacking on rehearsals." He shakes his phone towards Ryeowook, and the latter could see an alarm screen that reads "get your dumb ass to the gulliver center!"

Ryeowook's heart beats a noticeable thump thump all of a sudden. "Can I come with?"

"S-sure," Hyukjae says, shocked by the offer. "But why?"

That's a great question. For now, he says, "Because your internship is getting in the way of your studies, and I feel bad," but later, he'll know it's because he didn't want his time with Hyukjae to end so soon.

A grateful grin spreads across Hyukjae's face, and Ryeowook will add that onto his list of reasons later as well. "An audience is always welcome."

In no time, Hyukjae is in a practise room in the athletic center stretching his limbs every which way while Ryeowook watches as intently as possible while feigning interest in literally anything else in the room.

The bass-heavy noise music that Hyukjae puts on startles his attention back onto the dancer, and Ryeowook can no longer hide how blatantly he stares.

Hyukjae moves through the choreography so fluidly it almost looks lazy. He goes from jagged angles and harsh lines to sinewy curves and rolling waves to strong stomps and high jumps with no hesitation. He plays with the rhythm of the music, and he makes full use of the space available to him. Ryeowook is barely processing one impressive move when Hyukjae executes another one; and before he knows it, the performance is over.

"So," Hyukjae pants, "what'd ya think?"

"It's…" Jaw-dropping. Powerful. Hot. "… impressive," Ryeowook says at last.

Hyukjae smiles tightly. "Thanks. It actually needs a bit of work for the showcase, but I don't think the routine is all too shabby."

Ryeowook watches as Hyukjae watches himself through the mirror, redoing parts of the choreography over and over again at different tempos just to fine-tune his movements, and he can't help but feel like Hyukjae needed more from him.

"Um, I wonder if maybe it's lacking emotion?"

All movement halts. "What?"

Ryeowook didn't mean to say that; but now that it's out, he finds himself needing to continue. "You move well, um, obviously," he gestures awkwardly to Hyukjae's person, fighting a blush. "It looks physically difficult, sure, but what is it that you're trying to say? Like, I'm guessing you chose that song, too, right? So, why?"

Hyukjae stands in the middle of the room, arms limp by his side, and staring at Ryeowook with an unnervingly blank look on his face. Ryeowook hastily backpedals, "But hey, what do I know? I'm sure your professors will watch you and see all the nuances I can't with my untrained peon eyes. I was just… talking to talk, I guess."

"No, but I think you have a point," Hyukjae interjects.

Ryeowook perks up. "I do?"

"Yeah, like… I was so focused on trying to show what I can do with something only I could do, but that means basically nothing when any one of my classmates could learn my routine with only a week of practise. The only way I would be able to stand out is from whatever I put into it, but you made me realise I didn't put anything into it." He plops on the floor, eyebrows furrowed in consternation.

Ryeowook shakes his head adamantly. "No, no! There's clearly something there! You just need to, like, bring it out more. You have that whole idea—that this is something only you can do. You can take that, morph your routine into a testament to your need to prove yourself. Start with some trepidation, throw some desperation in the middle, and end with triumph. Honestly, I think I saw a little bit of that in your performance already. Maybe it was an accident, but now, just… do it on purpose."

"'Do it on purpose,'" Hyukjae repeats to himself. His head is down, so Ryeowook can't immediately tell what he thinks of the idea. He's ready to apologise again, even offer to go home so that Hyukjae can concentrate better, but then Hyukjae raises his head. "Alright, let me give that a try."

His eyes are filled with will and determination. Ryeowook, of all people, put those there.

He sits back and watches Hyukjae rehearse his routine over and over again, getting better and more evocative each time.

The Hyukjae before him is not a Hyukjae Ryeowook would have been able to guess based on his handwriting and lyrics alone.

Ryeowook knows basically nothing about dancing; but over the past few weeks, he's really come to know Hyukjae. He's noticed how the other is prone to express himself through movement, like when he accentuates his stories with body language and physical reenactments. It belies a comfort and confidence with his body and what it can do with which Ryeowook could never empathise. It's a subtle thing, but impactful nevertheless.

He smothers it down because he doesn't want to give Hyukjae the wrong idea, but he wants to laugh.

Only he could fall for a dancer's words first before anything else, and only he could fall for the same person twice.

~Where should I start? When should I say it? Darling, our seconds, our minutes together were beautiful.~

"Ryeowook, why haven't you asked to see my handwriting yet?"

"What?"

They had commandeered a study room in the library, but honestly neither of them are making a lot of headway in their respective assignments. Ryeowook didn't want anything to do with Organic Chemistry, but this conversation is making him reconsider his previous stance.

"Isn't that what you're into? Trying to infer people's personalities based on their handwriting?"

"I'm not into it. It just happened."

"Okay, sure, but aren't you, like, good at it now? Read mine! Tell me what it says about me."

Ryeowook, desperate to squash this idea immediately, blurts out. "It… It won't work!"

"Why not?" Hyukjae pouts.

Ryeowook scrambles. "Because I know you already. Yeah. I'll see and interpret things in a way that confirms what I already know."

Hyukjae eyebrows furrow in what Ryeowook can presume is consternation. "Sorry," he offers feebly.

Some more time passes, and Ryeowook makes mild progress on his O-Chem work, before Hyukjae speaks up again. "So if you can't do me, can you do my friend?" he asks with an excited tone that makes Ryeowook wary.

"I do not want to do your friend." You, however…

"NO! I mean: can you interpret my friend's handwriting? Here. He left it at my place last time we studied together."

Hyukjae's smirk radiates smug self-satisfaction, and with one look at the paper, Ryeowook understands why. He actively controls every muscle in his body to prevent the facepalm that's threatening to break loose.

He has to give Hyukjae props, though. If Ryeowook weren't already so intimately acquainted with the handwriting on the page before him, the other's ploy could have worked.

Regardless, he still finds himself in the position he was trying to avoid in the first place.

All the best lies are based in truth, right? "So I can tell your friend has a very high-stress major. The handwriting is cramped and small, like he can't waste a single stroke or else he'll miss something he needs to write down. Ah, see how he doesn't fully cross his t's and dot his i's? He thinks he'll be able to read his own handwriting later. He probably has decent memory or just has a lot of faith in himself."

Hyukjae nods with an impressed frown. "Huh, not bad."

It would be so, so easy to stop there, but Ryeowook can't. He loves Hyukjae's handwriting too much. "And look here," he points excitedly to a cross-out near the center of the page. "He could cross out his mistakes with a single line or a little squiggle, but he completely blocks it out instead. It suggests he has more confidence with the obvious; but really, I think he needs the reminder. Like, 'Yeah, I made a mistake. I'll move on, but I won't let myself forget. That way I don't do it again.'"

A moment later, Ryeowook realises with a jolt that he had been holding and smiling at the scrap paper a little too tenderly. He whips his head up in embarrassment, an explanation-slash-apology at the tip of his tongue, but Hyukjae doesn't seem to notice.

In fact, Hyukjae has been silent the whole time. Ryeowook chuckles awkwardly. "Am I right?"

"Huh?" Hyukjae intones as he's brought out of his reverie. Ryeowook thinks he sees something in his eyes when their gazes meet, but Hyukjae blinks and it's gone. "I'm sorry, what did you ask me?"

"I was wondering if I was right. About your 'friend,'" Ryeowook reminds, air quotes clear in his tone.

Hyukjae shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. "I think you're more right than even he's ready to admit," he says with a hand at the back of his neck and a sardonic quirk of his lips.

The sight causes an unexplainable swell of affection within Ryeowook, and he turns away. "He can take his time," he assures, eyes trained on his textbook even though he can't read a damn thing.

Hyukjae nods his thanks and turns back to his homework, but Ryeowook doesn't feel right letting it end here.

"Hey, wanna give my handwriting a try?"

~You always lift your head to look up at me. I want to take my big hands and cup your small cheeks.~

Next time they're meant to hang out, it's the weekend; and Hyukjae texts him to meet him at Bomnal.

"Both of us were here just two days ago, and we have to be here again in two days. Don't we spend enough time in Bomnal as it is?" Ryeowook complains as soon as he enters the atrium of the academic building.

"Think of it like a field trip. Come on, Wook," Hyukjae says as he leads them to the second floor lecture hall.

"Pretty sure field trips are meant to take us out of the classroom, but sure, whatever," Ryeowook grumbles as he follows along.

He's testy. He knows it, but he can't help it.

This is the first time both of them will be in Bomnal 235 at once. It feels like a turning point, like he's going to learn something today whether he wants to or not. He wonders if Hyukjae feels the same sense of impending that he does, or maybe it's just worse for him because he's in love.

As soon as they open the doors, the automatic lights flick on and douse the room with a very awake yellow.

"So… where do you normally sit?" Hyukjae asks as he motions to the empty seats before them.

Ryeowook freezes. Now that it's upon him, he can definitively identify this as the thing he was anxious about.

What if he tells the truth, Hyukjae realises Poem Person is him, and he feels awkward about it? Their comfortable but still-very-new friendship would evaporate on the spot, and Ryeowook won't have him in any capacity, much more a romantic one.

So, in another impeccable display of judgement, he decides to lie again.

"Oh, you know… I change it up," he mildly comments as he moves to somewhere near the middle of the first row. He sits down and gives an unassuming grin to his friend, who makes a face. "You're one of those people? Haven't you heard of the same seats code of conduct? You fed me some crap about curling L's when really it's your fault the balloon trick wouldn't have worked," Hyukjae jokes in that way where he's completely serious but is phrasing it with humour.

Ryeowook feels a genuine, fond grin spread across his face before he can help it, and he quickly ducks his head. "Why are we here, again?" he asks instead of dwelling on the validating comfort of being known.

"Why not?" Hyukjae asks as he moves to sit down. "This is the place it all began, right? Might as well."

Ryeowook, for his part, only stares.

Hyukjae went up to a seat in the rear right quadrant of the lecture hall. Ryeowok's own, real seat is directly in front of where the other is sitting. That can't be a coincidence.

"Um, I'm guessing that's where you sit?" he asks as casually as possible.

"Huh? Oh! Haha, yeah. It's funny, I didn't even think of sitting anywhere else. My feet just automatically guided me here."

"So funny," Ryeowook squeaks out.

"Yeah, my friend in the class actually used to sit with me, but it became very apparent very quickly that we would never get anything done if we did, so he moved down there." Hyukjae points with his foot to Ryeowook's seat, and Ryeowook's breath hitches in his throat. "Sometimes when I'm bored, I just can't help but throw stuff onto his desk just to annoy him." Hyukjae mimes a free throw shot towards the desk and smiles.

Well, if there were any doubt before in Ryeowook's mind that Hyukjae was Poem Person, it has summarily been erased.

Ryeowook hums but says nothing else, letting a companionable silence stretch between them as he acknowledges the warmth that settles into his chest when he confirms with himself that yes, he is glad that Hyukjae is Poem Person.

"Why are you helping me?" he asks, curious and without judgement. The abrupt question startles the other out of whatever reverie he had settled into during their respite, but Hyukjae bounces back quickly, as he always does.

"You know, I had to figure that answer out myself," Hyukjae answers with a laugh. He leans back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head, staring out at the empty lecture hall. "I told you I would at first because it was obvious that I was the only one in a position to actually help. It wasn't even an option in my mind that I wouldn't… But even after my sense of obligation ran out, I wanted to keep going.

"You're cool, Ryeowook. You're fun to be around, you're sassy, you're down to try anything once. You're totally comfortable being yourself, and your 'self' is crazy. Like, who else trusts in their gut enough that this person you're chasing after is worth the effort? Who else would go to the lengths to which you're willing to go just to meet him? Honestly, I think that's pretty awesome. I don't know if I could have that same confidence you do."

He tilts his head towards Ryeowook then and gives a close-lipped, self-convinced smile. "If anyone's gonna find love based on a few scraps of paper and a dream, it's gonna be you."

Ryeowook nods mutely. He hopes the distance between them is enough to disguise the blush on his cheeks.

Hyukjae faces forward again. "If I think about it, I guess I'm being selfish, too. I want to believe a love like that is possible; and if I help you find him, I'll get to see it happen for myself… I really hope this guy is worth it, Ryeowook. I think it would break my heart as much as yours if he weren't."

He is, though. He's so worth it. "Me too."

~Longing is a beautiful pain I thought I could endure.~

Ryeowook walks out of the campus mail room, and life couldn't get better.

He just picked up a care package his mom sent him; he got a 94 on his last Nutrition Essentials quiz; and Hyukjae loves the new low-fat, protein-enhanced strawberry scones recipe he tried out yesterday.

Speaking of whom, he thinks this whole Poem Person plot is going to wrap up soon. The last time they must have actually worked on a strategy to find out who Poem Person was, like, two weeks ago at least; and Ryeowook's glad he can stop pretending he has any interest anymore.

Their friendship has wholly evolved beyond the point of needing a project to work on in order to spend time with each other anyway. Why pine after a fictitious man when he has a whole Hyukjae right there, who buys him coffee lattes simply because he's Hyukjae's dongsaeng and who helps him study for his quizzes even when Hyukjae himself is stressed.

Ryeowook tells himself that with some more time, the whole mystery will just fade into an inside joke between the two of them, a white whale they can reminisce about when they're sipping soju and reminiscing… preferably cuddled on a couch and with his head on Hyukaje's shoulder.

However, his friend group did not get the memo.

"So, uh. What happened to Poem Person?" Henry asks one weekend while everyone is at Ryeo-Mi's apartment.

"Shut up!" Kyuhyun admonishes with a slap to the back of Henry's head. "Ryeowook hasn't annoyed us with that in weeks. Aren't you grateful?!"

"I actually am very curious about what happened there. Weren't you and Hyukjae supposed to find him together?" Yesung asks.

"The gen—" "Maybe I'm manifesting, Mi! Ever think of that?"

Ryeowook cuts in before Mi's feelings get even more hurt. "Yeah, we were, but honestly I've kinda given up on the whole thing."

He expects some shock, but he couldn't have predicted who would be the most affected. "You're just gonna give up on finding love!?" Mi despairs.

"Actually, the potential for a romantic relationship was never confirmed," Henry quips. Yesung gives Henry a high-five.

"It was just a little crush," Ryeowook defends. "I've moved past it, as I was bound to do eventually." He says this last part to Kyuhyun, who he knows was the most annoyed with his actions back then.

"'Eventually' doesn't end in time for finals week, Wook," Kyuhyun retorts.

"Well, now you never have to worry about it, Hyun."

"Is love dead?" Mi desponds aloud, but no one pays him any mind.

Ryeowook pats his roommate's shoulders in a half-hearted attempt at consolation. If Mi turns out to be the only casualty in this whole ordeal, Ryeowook will count this as a win.

What he doesn't count on is the fact that Hyukjae would invariably hear about it.

"Is it true?" Hyukjae corners him after Ryeowook picks up his order from the on-campus cafe.

"You know, I don't think so. I think she's just Henry's accompanist for rehearsals," Ryeowook responds genuinely, certain that the latest gossip about Henry's potentially secret girlfriend is what Hyukjae must have been referring to.

"What? No!" Hyukjae stops in confusion but stomps after Ryeowook once he gets his bearings back. "No, I heard that you gave up on finding him, that you gave up a while ago. Is it true?"

Ryeowook hesitates to sit down at the open table he found, and Hyukjae's entire posture seizes in betrayal. "Alright, got it," Hyukjae says with an edge to his tone. "Do me a favour, yeah? Never talk to me ever again."

"Wait!" Ryeowook calls once Hyukjae turns on his heel and storms off. "Hyukjae, wait!" He pays no mind to the fact that he's abandoning his belongings as he chases Hyukjae outside. "I get that you're angry, but don't you think this is a little much?"

He reaches out for Hyukjae's upper arm, but the other immediately shrugs it off. Ryeowook flinches and retreats slightly. Despite the other's obvious fury, Hyukjae is stopped in place and seems willing to actually talk to him, and Ryeowook holds onto that hope instead.

"No, actually," Hyukjae sneers. "I think this is the perfect amount of much when you find out your best friend has been wasting your time for who knows how long!"

Of all the things Hyukjae could have said in that moment, Ryeowook didn't expect that reaction at all. It stings more than he expects, cuts through his defensiveness; and despite his position in the situation, he can't help but need comfort. "What do you mean?" he asks in a confused, desperate voice.

"What do I mean?" Hyukjae repeats exasperatedly. "Ryeowook, we spent weeks together trying to figure out how to get you your dream guy! We never even got anywhere, and, and… And it's all because of you! You shot down basically every one of my ideas practically from the beginning, even after I told you how much it would personally mean to me. That is, like, the textbook definition of a waste of time!"

"You weren't having fun?"

"What?" Hyukjae demands incredulously.

"All that time we spent together," Ryeowook clarifies as he steadfastly meets Hyukjae's angry gaze. "You didn't have fun?"

Hyukjae is silent, and his body posture screams obstinate defiance, but his eyes remain trained on Ryeowook.

"You didn't come to look forward to spending time with me? You didn't spend your free time thinking of ways to make me laugh?"

Hyukjae rolls his eyes. "So what? What does any of that mean when you were just stringing me along? You… you weren't even using me!?" he exclaims, voice rising in a hysterical question. "That was literally the whole basis of our friendship, and you couldn't even do that? Like, what could you have possibly gained from lying to my face like that for all this time?"

Ryeowook gives a watery smile at the non-answer and looks down at his fingers fidgeting together. "I did, too," he says in a voice so quiet it was like he intended to keep that to himself.

It's silent for a long time after that admission. Hyukjae's lividness has dissipated, and he is only left with a disappointment so painful he doesn't want to dwell on it any further. He moves to leave Ryeowook alone outside of the cafe, but Ryeowook's voice stops him.

"W-What did you say?" Hyukjae asks with apprehension.

Ryeowook ignores the tears falling from his eyes as he repeats himself. "I'm in a rush to catch you, but you're in a hurry to leave. Should I just surrender? Now we're like an old and worn notebook filled with scribbles."

Hyukjae simply stares, and Ryeowook takes that as his cue to keep going. "Take your beautiful smile with you. Don't leave it here. You saw me with tears in my eyes."

By heart,

"I was a selfish man, but my life is divided into before and after I knew you."

Ryeowook recites lyric,

"When I first saw you, it felt like a miracle."

after lyric,

"I'm thinking of you more today. I wonder how tomorrow morning will be. Will I miss you more than I do today?"

after lyric;

"I'm honest because I don't know lies before love."

and before he knows it,

"I'd place my feelings on the thawing snow. I'd hang my wish on a disappearing star, but only if you ask me to."

Hyukjae is within arm's reach.

"It's me?" Hyukjae whispers into the scant centimetres between them. "It's really me?" he asks again when Ryeowook had simply nodded.

Ryeowook can't even help it when he recites, "Even when you ask me again, for me, it's only you." with a breathy laugh as he shyly looks away.

Hyukjae moves to gently hold Ryeowook's hand. "And you're okay with that?"

Ryeowook wants to laugh and melt and cry and run away, but instead he settles for an earnest nod and a hesitant smile. "Are you?"

Hyukjae answers him with a kiss, and it feels like a dazzling melody.

~Together, we can make all our unfulfilled dreams come true.~

[thiswasinevitableid]

I had a terrible thought. I want to preface this by saying that I have a difficult time starting new fics when I finish one that I love, even if I’m excited to read it. After reading Metamorphosis, it was difficult to start Falling, and now I am having a similar issue with M&M. Though I enjoy it already and am rooting for the couples! This made me think of reincarnation aus. What if Indrid knew Duck’s soul in a previous life of the latter, but after losing him had to go on?

In addition, Indrid is overjoyed when he realizes he’s finally found Duck again?

Apparently, I’m in a “what if” mood? I was thinking about how Indrid views so many timelines, the way Garnet does. How you mentioned in various parts of the Falling series. What if Duck does follow the “canonical” path, right up until he’s about to leave for Brazil? Indrid living their life through visions of what could have been? BUT THEN, because I can’t stand sad endings, Duck suddenly regains his memories(via your personal choice of magical means) and....(ran out of space)

Okay, so this is wild: A week ago, I was thinking about how I’d do a soulmates/Reincarnation story, because those AUs are not my jam but I was procrastinating (side note: I too struggle to move from one story to another when I read; your brain has to finish the rinse cycle on the universe you were in before starting on the next one)

Behind the cut for angst (with a happy ending) and, perhaps obviously, mentions of death. The fics I reference (for those who spot them) do not, canonically, relate to each other like this but since we’re playing “what if?...

Indrid Cold hangs up the phone.

See you tomorrow?

Is that all he could really think of? But then again, Leo had been in danger prior to that and the whole tree mess is wrecking havoc on his mind. But then again, what could he have said.

Over a century ago, in another life, you hunted me when all my failures turned me to self interest?

Nearly a century ago, I told fortunes in dusty tents and lifted heavy things for their amusement?

As soon as I heard your voice, I knew it was you?

He shakes his head; maybe he’s wrong. Maybe Duck isn’t the man he has loved and lost twice over in his time on earth. Maybe his intuition and visions are wrong.

------------------------------

They’re not wrong. This helps him very little. Because while he remembers, Duck does not. He watches the disgust on his face at the state of the trailer, the fear when he removes his glasses.

Yes, the mess has gotten rather bad. But the first time we met was in a cave.

Please don’t be afraid of me. Please remember all the times you lay in these spindly arms, wrapped in my wings.

Please remember.

Duck saving Billy is so familiar. So like him, and when Indrid sees the argument between him and Minerva play out in the futures hes awash with pride. Stubborn and kind, not nearly as bloodthirsty as fate wishes him to be.

Strong too, if the punch is any indication. 

“I’m gonna save the Mothman.”

You remember. Some part of you remembers. You thought to save me before anything.

“That’s the whole tourism industry of Point Pleasant right there.”

Well, fuck me I guess.

-----------------------------------------------------------

He sits in the trailer for a week after the tree is destroyed. There are futures where Duck comes to apologize, to check on him, to ask for his help.

No matter how many times he plays them over, they do not materialize.

He can’t force the issue. He can’t. He can’t bring himself to go see Duck. The last time, while he never remembered, he seemed as drawn to Indrid as Indrid was to him, their loving blooming naturally as they traveled together.

Duck Newton has fought fate all his life. He’s been hounded to take up a destiny he did not want. Indrid will not be another voice yammering about fate and destiny in his ear. The man he loved, the man he could easily love again, deserves better.

He starts the trailer, and pulls away from the forest.

--------------------------------------------------

The images of the end play out, over and over, as he drives. He tries to drown them out with the timelines he cherishes that never came to be; Duck falling asleep in his arms, Duck kissing him in the snow, Duck seeking him out when everything went to hell.

“It could use some work.”

I will not allow the Quell to take you. Even if you never remember me, never love me, are never even my friend.

--------------------------------------------------

His wings ache, still sore from where something bit them during the fight. He’s staying at the Lodge while the Bago gets repaired (a Quell Rhino went straight through it). Outside he hears Duck laughing, Minivera’s booming laugh underscoring it.

I really did not see that one coming.

Duck is excited for Brazil. He is excited to be with Minerva. He is excited for his future, and Indrid would never, ever, ever take that from him.

“I do not wish to be apart from you. My life has more color, more substance, more futures in it when I am with you. I love you, and I want to stay by your side for as long as you’ll have me. You seem to feel the same about me and wish me to stay. I’m proposing a way that can be true.”

“You’re askin' me to marry you?” Indrid gives the smallest nod as confirmation. His lover turns the ring over in his fingers.

“Well?” Indrids' voice is soft, shy, unsure.

“Mr. Cold, I do believe I’ll accept your proposal.” He slips the ring onto his finger, holds up his hand and watches Indrid slump forward on the table in relief.

Two out of three meetings lead to love, that is more than he could ever dreamed of.

 “Is that what you’d like? For me to carry you away?” Indrid brushes their noses together.

 “So goddamn much.” The strong-man closes the half-inch between them. It’s as gentle and as tender as first kiss ought to be, their lips learning the shape of each other and teasing at the promise of more.

 When Indrid pulls back, pressing their joined hands to his cheek, he whispers, “simply say the word, and it will be so.”

He can’t go back to Sylvain. What good is a seer who can’t let go of the past?

---------------------------------------------

“Indrid? Oh, there you are buddy.” Duck grins at him, setting the box down on the small table in the trailer, “this was stuff they had to move when they were fixin’ it. Didn’t want to chuck it without lettin’ you look through it.”

“Thank you, Duck.” Indrid begins emptying the box, and Duck helps him, setting things in to neat piles.

“Are you excited for your journey?”

“Uh. Yeah, uh, hell, fuck, hell yeah.”

Indrid looks at him, worried.

“I’m havin’ second thoughts. And Minnie and I done nothin’ but fight the last three days.”

“All couples do, I am told.”

“Yeah but this, these feel like bigger fights. Things we need to hash out before we move to totally new fuckin continent.”

“Perhaps you can defer your work? That would give you time to work things out.”

“Ain’t sure that’s a--shit!” The sketchbook turns out to be a stack of loose papers, and they tumble from Duck’s hands. The ranger kneels down along with Indrid, and as they gather them up, Duck’s hands slow.

“Indrid? Why are these all of me?”

With horror, he sees the futures that did not come to pass, but that he drew anyway so he could look at them, held in Duck’s hands.

“They, ah, they were just futures. You must have been having a busy day, or, or something.”

“Hold up, they ain’t just of me. Seems like there’s a lot of us, uh, together. Really together.” Duck blushes, setting aside a page in a hurry as Indrid wills the floor to open up and swallow him.

“As I said, just futures.”

“Futures you wanted?”

“I, ah, I...”

“Wait, how old is this one? Did you so somethin funny to the paper?” Duck holds up the brown and brittle page.

“Huh. That fella looks like me if I were, I dunno, dressin up like a cowboy.”

“Sheriff.” Indrid corrects softly, “that was sheriff Jake Ellis. I man I loved many, many years ago. As far as I can surmise, he is a past life of yours. There was another in between who I, ah, I also loved. Who was also you.”

“........What the fuck?”

“A reasonable reaction. You should go.”

“Wait, Indrid, why didn’t you say nothin?”

“Would you have honestly enjoyed someone saying ‘by the by, we were lovers in two of your past lives, I already feel myself growing attached to you, so please date me because this feels like fate?”

“Okay, fair point, I woulda hated that. Why not stick around then, be my friend, lemme get to know you?”

“You deserved better than my lurking in the shadows in hopes of you loving me.”

“Indrid-”

“Please leave.“ Indrid points to the door. Duck hesitates, then stands and exits the trailer, gait subdued.

----------------------------------------------------

Duck hears the sad chirring start as soon as the door shuts. He turns, heading into the woods. He needs some time to think.

----------------------------------------------------------

It cant be

“Duck? Your, your flight, you missed it.” It’s been a month since he last saw the ranger.

“Yeah. And, uh, Minerva’s stayin with Leo for a bit. Had some things I wanted to sort out in Kepler before I did anythin’ else.”

“Please don’t tell me this is due to my drawings. I cannot bear the thought of you setting aside your life on the off-chance you might come to love me.”

Duck shifts side to side, “Are you at least willin to give me a chance?” He holds out his hand.

Indrid looks at the futures, but they’re too jumbled by his own indecision to be much help.

“Very well. Two months. If you still feel nothing more than friendship for me after that, please promise me you'll forget about me.”

Duck nods, takes his head, “Deal.”

---------------------------------------------

Indrid yawns, pads into the living room still half-asleep. Waiting for him on the table is a vase of flowers and a mega-pack of fruit gushers, along with a note.

Happy six months, darlin. See you tonight.

-Love, Duck.

[aeneasx]

The Zodiac Signs Ranked In Order Of How Good They Are As Husbands

1. Cancer.

Cancer men make the absolute best husbands, hands down. They never shy away from commitment, they are loyal, honest, and want to build a life with you. When they are in love with someone, they feel it so strongly, and because sensitivity is in their nature, you really don’t ever have to worry about the flame dying out for long in your life together. They are – ahem – crabby at times, yes, but honestly take comfort in the fact that the majority of your arguments will be about stupid things like who last took the trash out or that one friend you never want to hang out with but always seem to have to, rather than actual, legitimate issues like whether or not you want to be together, or whether or not they were faithful last weekend. Keep in mind that the latter are actual issues that people, unfortunately, do deal with. A Cancer man is a life you want to build a home and family with. They will be silly and fun and in love with you all. 10/10 put a ring on it.

2. Libra.

Libras are the ultimate relationship partners. They are obsessed with love, and though they are indecisive by nature, once they do choose what they want – especially in romance – they are all in. They are committed from day one, and their loyalty and love does not falter. They bring balance and beauty to the relationship, they inspire their partner to be better and dream bigger than they ever thought they could. Libras make amazing parents, and they are reasonably sound of mind when difficult times come up. They will be your rock, they will be your biggest supporter, and more than anything, they will love the crap out of your for as long as they can.

3. Scorpio.

I know, I know, you didn’t see this one coming. Your idea of Scorpios is probably that they are fiercely jealous and deeply emotional and have a dark sense of humor about it all. But that’s really what makes them such prime life partners. First of all, the opposite end of their capacity to envy is their loyalty. Once they have committed to you, they will commit to you forever. They will be protective, focused, give-you-the-shirt-off-their-back selfless and your biggest fan always. Together, you will be best friends and life partners. They will defend you by any means to anyone who dares speak an ill word of you, and you can trust that a Scorpio partner will be as faithful as they come. Once you are their desire, you will be their only desire. They are not for everyone, but the people who they are right for, they are right for always.

4. Gemini.

Geminis are actually amazing in love. Despite their infamously “all over the place” nature, they make for astoundingly solid partners. First of all, Geminis need other people more than a lot of the other signs. Geminis thrive when they marry someone they truly respect, to look out for a Gem who admires and is proud of you. Geminis are grounded by people who compensate for their weaknesses with complementary strengths. They jive best with people who are either inspirational to them, or who think more clearly and are less emotional than them. A Gemini partner is like the absolute best friend you could ever wish for, and the most passionate, creative, loyal love you will ever have in your life.

5. Pisces.

Pisces make great husbands, especially if you are into the “creative, emotional” type. You usually don’t have to worry about them being too aggressive or unreasonable, and once they are in love with you, they will be obsessed with you. Of course, as with anything else, it’s not right for everyone, but overall Pisces make super warm and loving husbands, the kind that take care of the kids and actually listen when you can’t decide what color off off-white linens to buy. Pisces will largely stay in their own little odd and creative worlds, and that’s fine, because not only are they deeper and more intuitive than the other signs (a huuuuuge plus in a relationship) but they have a life of their own, too. They aren’t going to suffocate you.

6. Capricorn.

Capricorns are the realest when it comes to being lifelong partners. They have all of the qualities of a strong and cooperative other half, and when they commit to someone, they do everything they can to make sure that they are putting as much effort as possible into the relationship. Capricorns are the epitome of “sturdy husbands,” one that you can lean on mentally and emotionally. They will forever be your voice of reason, your sounding board, your greatest encourager. Though they are sometimes known for being stubborn (which is occasionally true) they actually err toward being pretty open-minded, and that’s amazing when it comes to cohabiting and communicating well. They will listen and hear you out, even if they disagree.

7. Virgo.

Virgos are pretty good partners, but won’t always show every layer of themselves to you, at least not right away. They are loving and funny and are overall pretty chill about things, but Virgos also tend to have a bit of apprehension toward being “tied down.” Beyond this, at times, their paranoia and/or obsessive thinking can get the best of them, and they don’t always know how to separate what’s going on in their minds from what’s going down in their relationships. Virgos are about a 50/50 success rate in terms of life partnership. If they’re in, they’re in. If they are even just 90% committed, it will be a big problem down the line. Virgos aren’t a guarantee, but they’ll always be a wild adventure in the meantime.

8. Aries.

A relationship with an Aries will be great when the going is great, and then rough when the going is rough. They are opinionated, driven and like to take the lead with things. They like to highlight their individuality, want their voices to be heard, and like to be right about things. These traits, when in the wrong relationship, can really add up to some turmoil. It’s not to say that you’re doomed, but it is to say that Aries aren’t by nature the most agreeable people alive.

9. Leo.

Leo husbands are really a toss up. They will love harder than probably any other sign there is, and won’t hesitate to show their soft and sensitive side when needed. However, if and when challenged or put into a difficult situation, they struggle to maintain their cool and not become aggressive or overbearing. Life with a Leo is either great or it’s very difficult, whether you’re someone who can easily stand up for themselves or not. You’ll either spend 1/3 of your lives in a fight, or will often feel like your wants and needs are being imposed upon.

10. Taurus.

Tauruses are the single most stubborn sign of the entire group. It is their way or the damn highway. Aside from this, their standards are so unreasonably high that it will often feel like there’s just no way you can win. Sure, they are super loving and loyal to the people who they are close to, but building an intimate relationship with one really requires you to have a tough skin, and not be afraid to call them out when they need it.

11. Aquarius.

Aquariuses are the most ambitious and determined sign of the group, and that’s what makes them difficult life partners. They spend most of their time seeming sort of distracted and consumed by their work. Though they do often find partners that complement their lifestyles, it’s highly likely that their relationships will be impacted by their priorities at some time or another.

12. Sagittarius.

Aside from being the sign that is most often associated with being unfaithful (though of course, not every Sag is) Sagittariuses are just the free spirits of the zodiac. They want to adventure and explore and find who they are. They are meant to be in the woods, traveling through Europe, reading books on obscure topics and taking whichever lovers appeal to them at any given point in time. They aren’t the worst husbands because they’re bad people, they’re the worst because they are the least likely to be happy whilst committed.

[badonkodank]

Sight for Sore Eyes

ao3

Rated: T Characters: Aizawa Shota, Yamada Hizashi  Ships: Aizawa/Yamada Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance-ish Summary:  For reasons only known to her, Recovery Girl had allowed the release, but only on the condition that Hizashi promised to not leave Shota alone for more than a few minutes at a time. She'd been adamant that idle hands were the Devil's playthings- Shota's hands especially. 

It had been four days and two hours since he'd had a restful night's rest.

Coincidentally, it had also been four days and two hours since he'd heard of the attack on USJ and come running faster than he ever had in his life. But then, how was he supposed to be able to sleep after seeing Shota so utterly destroyed? The sight of his broken and bleeding body had been ingrained into his memory since that day, and the images haunted him every time he closed his eyes.

Although, even if an injured Shota didn't greet him when he tried to sleep, Hizashi doubted he would be able to still. He was in charge of taking care of him, after all. That had been the condition to getting him out of the hospital, which Shota had desperately wanted, even if he never said it aloud. Hizashi knew how much he did not like being there, even when Recovery Girl was the one dealing with him. He didn't enjoy being in those sterile environments longer than strictly necessary. Shota had hangups about being what he perceived was a burden on other people, and he believed people should suffer their injuries and not rely to heavily on others to fix them, so he didn't like making Recovery Girl use her quirk more often than she had to.

For reasons only known to her, Recovery Girl had allowed the release, but only on the condition that he promised to not leave Shota alone for more than a few minutes at a time. She'd been adamant that idle hands were the Devil's playthings- Shota's hands especially, even when he couldn't use them. Apparently she believed he'd still strain himself trying to do more than he should while healing if left to his own devices. Hizashi readily agreed with that assessment. If he knew anything about Shota -and he knew quite a bit- he would not be able to stand doing nothing while he healed for very long. He always tried to push himself into getting better faster, and Hizashi didn't think he would ever be able to convince him that the process didn't work that way. He'd been trying since they were kids, but there were some things nobody could get through Shota's thick skull, and Recovery Girl had gathered that.

Of course, her intuition when it came to patients was right on the mark. They'll only been home since that morning, and when the silence in the apartment was broken by Shota's muffled voice announcing that he still had papers from before the USJ incident that still needed to be graded, Hizashi wondered how long he'd been sitting on that for when he grew too bored to stand. At least he wasn't trying to do anything on his own. Still, he couldn't stop the heavy sigh that dragged out his throat when he got up from the couch. He would do anything to keep Shota as comfortable as possible, yes, but he was tired, and he had no idea where those papers were. Or even if they were in the apartment. He'd grabbed plenty of Shota's things before bringing him to his place, but homework hadn't exactly been at the top of his list of important necessities.

As if sensing the latter thought, Shota informed him that they were in his bag. He'd asked Hizashi to grab it when he'd been packing up spare clothes, and now he was certain Shota had been biding his time to grade them. He grabbed them from where he'd left the bag on the coffee table and proceeded to sit on the floor beside the armchair Shota was in. His joints protested the movements and Hizashi bit down another sigh. When all Shota could do was hear him, he didn't want to make him think he was being put upon by helping him. He wasn't. He was just… really tired. And worried. But, Hizashi knew whatever he felt probably couldn't compare to how Shota felt, so he sucked it up and kept going. If there was anything he could do for him to alleviate some of the pain the medication couldn't completely block out, and the stress he felt at being cooped up in his home and more-or-less confined to a chair or bed, then he would do it.

And the grading turned out to be a nice remedy for the both of them for that, it turned out. He would read Shota the answers each student gave and he would mull it over before having him mark it as right or wrong. They set a nice pace that way, and the reprieve from the "not normal" routine they'd found themselves trapped in was welcome, too. It gave Hizashi something to occupy and wake up his brain, and whatever Shota got out of it seemed to be working some of the tension out of his voice. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

An alarm on his phone went off and Hizashi startled just as hard as Shota. Okay… maybe less than Shota, but he tried to make the comparison similar so that he didn't feel so bad for scaring his husband.

"Sorry!" He yelped. He wished he could see Shota's face, even for a few seconds, just so he could know the kind of expression he wore. Hizashi got the feeling it was something like stony impassiveness, the mask he shoved on when he was embarrassed, but he wasn't sure and that fact did little to soothe his own nerves.

He cracked his back as he stood up before resetting the alarm for a few hours out. Recovery Girl had told him that morning that Shota's bandages would need changing around dinner time, and then again before bed. He'd set the alarm for right after lunch, after dinner, and before bed, because while he probably didn't need to change them that often, he'd also been assured there would be no harm in it either. Hizashi decided they were better safe than sorry. He refused to risk anything happening to hinder Shota's healing because he wasn't cleaning his wounds and redressing them enough.

It would be a lie if he said he wasn't nervous about the first dressing change, though. It wasn't as if this would be his first time taking care of one of Shota's injuries… just the first time dealing with one so serious. It wasn't every day that his husband was recovering from pulverized eye sockets.

The thought made him swallow thickly and Hizashi took his time with ensuring he had everything needed for the change. He checked and double checked that it was all accounted for, and when he could no longer stall, he walked back over to Shota. He went over the mental checklist in his head of does and don'ts, and then explained them aloud to Shota so that he didn't get annoyed by any of the maneuvering he'd have to do, as well as to help himself relax. It wasn't going to be a big deal. He would take the old stuff off, put the new stuff on, and boom, it would be done. Shota seemed calm about the whole thing up until Hizashi reminded him he was not allowed to open his eyes. He'd been told already, but he'd also just been coming off of anesthesia, so Hizashi wanted to be sure he remembered. And it was a good thing he did, because Shota's voice contained a scowl when he spoke.

"What?"

"Your eyes are still healing, baby," He explained, "R.G said no."

The order was as heartbreaking for him to say as he imagined it was upsetting for Shota to hear, but he nodded stiffly in understanding and didn't try to argue. Hizashi supposed that was good, even if he hadn't been expecting a fight on it anyway. Shota was no idiot, and he knew healing could be a miserable affair. He wasn't about to go against the doctor's orders.

He was careful when he started unwinding the thick covering from his face, throwing out apologies when he had to maneuver Shota's head to get the gauze out from under his hair. A couple times Shota's hand tightened around the arm of the recliner when his skin got pulled by a sticky bit of gauze and Hizashi instinctively brushed a thumb over his knuckles until he relaxed his grip. It was a lengthy affair, but eventually the white started turning up dirtier in spots, and Hizashi swallowed hard in anticipation for what his husband's face looked like as he removed the last bits of wrapping.

As soon as the gross, old bandages were off Hizashi was grateful Shota couldn't immediately see him. He imagined his reaction to seeing his face again for the first time in days was not the one that either of them had been hoping for. He couldn't help it, though. The entire time, he'd been imagining what his poor face must've looked like under all the sterile white, and he'd been prepared for the worst, but apparently all of that preparation did very little when he was faced with Shota's actual condition. It was almost funny too, because he didn't look nearly as bad as Hizashi had been building up in his mind. He just looked awful enough.

Bruises and cuts still in the process of healing littered every bony inch of his face, but the one under his right eye was the one that caught his attention. Hizashi wasn't sure how many stitches were holding the gash closed, but it was enough to churn his stomach, and Hizashi was reminded that most of the healing Recovery Girl had done had been internal for Shota. Internal had been decidedly more important than his outward appearance. Of course, he agreed with that, but it didn't stop him from mirroring Shota's wince when his eyes roamed over the rest of the wounds.

He was struck by how exhausted Shota looked, too, because despite the sleep he was getting, the bags under his eyes appeared to have grown. He started to get the feeling that most of Shota's sleep was as restless as his own. Hizashi knew part of the sunken in, fatigued look was due to the bruising around his eyes, but it didn't change the fact that he looked. So. Awful.

And then there was the matter of his eyes. The eyes that he couldn't take a look at because it wasn't allowed. He knew it was in Shota's best interest to keep them closed, yet the frustrated part of Hizashi's mind wondered if Recovery Girl hadn't told Shota to keep his eyes closed because if he opened them, Hizashi might never want to re-bandage his face. After all, it had been far too long since he'd been able been able to properly see him.

Four days and three hours, his mind bitterly supplied.

Four days and three hours since he'd seen those eyes scrunched up while Shota tried to conceal a smile brought out by one of his antics. Four days and three hours since he'd shot him a look that was equal parts exasperation and fondness. Four days and three hours since he'd been pinned by his intense gaze and told something not safe for little ears. Four days and three hours since either of them had just looked at each other.

Maybe that was a good thing, though, because Hizashi got the feeling he was no sight to behold right now. With his greasy hair and day-old clothes and chipped nail polish and stubbly chin... If he looked half as haggard as he felt, Shota might just run for the hills when he saw him.

He just hadn't found a reason good enough to part from his side long enough to do anything more than eat. School was only scheduled to start back up again tomorrow, and Yamauchi had taken over the radio show for him, so it wasn't like he had any reason to dress up or get himself looking presentable. Shota had been his number one priority since USJ, and he'd sort of just… forgotten to take care of himself.

Even as he thought all of that though, he chided himself, because he knew Shota wouldn't care about those sorts of things. Shota loved him for more than his good looks, and he'd be happy to see anything at all- though, he imagined he wouldn't be too happy knowing he'd been neglecting his own basic needs.

The weight of that fact hit Hizashi like a ton of bricks and even though none of what had happened was his fault, he still felt guilty over Shota's position. However badly the last few days had been affecting him, he knew it was a thousand times worse for Shota, who's sight and quirk hung in the balance. If he healed just the wrong way he could lose one, or both, and even though he insisted he'd be fine no matter the outcome, Hizashi knew he lied. He'd seen it in the stiff posture and heard it in his tight voice when he'd said it. If anything happened to his quirk, sure, he could still teach and life would go on, but he would feel less himself because he could no longer be the hero he'd always been. But if he lost his eyesight… Hizashi wasn't so sure he'd bounce back from that so quickly.

And every time he had to help Shota to the bathroom, or feed him, or get him settled into bed, served as a reminder to be hammered into him, like he was a piece of scrap metal on an anvil, that that could be their life if that happened. Every time he did anything for him that Shota normally would've been able to do on his own with ease, he was faced with the potential future of a blind Shota. Maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal, because Shota would eventually overcome the disability, but the mess of in between okay and not okay was not something Hizashi wanted to think about.

It was a bad track to go down and Hizashi focused on turning his train of thought somewhere else. Like the task at hand. With a newfound reason to focus on nothing but dealing with Shota, he grabbed the glass of water of the side table and let him drink until he'd drained the whole thing.

"You want more?"

"No." His reply was stiff, and Hizashi wondered if he was nervous, in pain, or both.

"Alright," Hizashi sighed and went to work on the next stage.

The care in which he wiped the built up sweat, grime, and old blood off of Shota's face was perhaps over the top, but he felt the weight of responsibility heavy in his chest. He refused to be the cause of any permanent damage because he made a mistake in the pressure he applied to any part of his healing body. It was why he did everything by the book, exactly how Recovery Girl had shown him, but with even more caution.

As he worked on washing off a scrape on his forehead, Shota hissed and it made him pause. Maybe it was the lack of sleep getting to him, or maybe it was the heaviness of everything finally making itself known, but he was painfully aware of every single injury Shota had. Every nick, every broken bone, every bruise, every… possible outcome should things not heal perfectly. It all hit him at the same time as he stared at the marred but still beautiful face, how horrible it all was.

The rag slipped from his fingers but he barely noticed. His hand travelled down to cup the side of Shota's face, brushing his thumb just beneath the stitches that housed a future scar, and when Shota leaned into the touch with a wistful pinch of his brows, his vision went blurry.

Any sound that tried to escape from his throat was kept silent as he cradled Shota's face. He didn't want to alarm him. However, in the end it made little difference when his husband's mouth turned into a frown.

"Zashi? Are you... crying?"

He tried to hold onto the keen building up in his throat, but he never had been good at hiding his emotions, and the fact that Shota pegged him before he'd made a peep reminded him just how well they knew each other. There was no good way to answer him, though, so he shook his head in answer, only to remember mid-movement that Shota couldn't see it. That shoved the built up tears over the edge. He bit back a rough sob when it tried to level him, and he set about rewrapping Shota's face with shaking hands.

He barely got the material halfway over the bridge of his nose before Shota's voice cut through his distress.

"Stop. Hizashi, stop."

Hizashi listened without putting much effort into fighting him on it, because he just didn't have the energy to insist that he needed to get his face rewrapped before hell froze over. Instead, he dropped his hands. They automatically settled on either side of Shota's face and Hizashi absentmindedly traced circles around the curve of his jaw, more as a way to calm himself down than anything else. Shota seemed to appreciate the attention too, though. In fact, Hizashi wondered if that wasn't exactly what he'd wanted, because he relaxed under his touch. The sigh he released sounded satisfied but also immensely frustrated, and the reasons behind the latter feeling weren't lost on him. Hizashi sniffled.

"Don't cry."

Hizashi decided he really needed to have a chat with Shota on how to not talk to people if you wanted them to not completely fall apart. Because how was he supposed to not cry harder when Shota spoke that softly, in a way that rang monotone to most other people, but that Hizashi could hear unending concern in.

And how crazy was it that Shota still managed to comfort him when he was the one hurt? Hizashi let out a bitter laugh at that and he felt more than saw Shota's shoulders twitch to make his arms come up. Hizashi halted his movement when he noticed a pinch in his expression, signalling to the pain he would never admit the small gesture causing. Shota gave an annoyed grunt, but made little other protest as he settled again and Hizashi dropped his face into the crook of his neck in time for another ugly sob to come up.

He needed to get it together and suck it up. He was well aware of that. Shota had enough to deal with without him becoming a useless snot blob on him. So, before Shota could get a chance to move or make any attempt to comfort, Hizashi sat back up and wiped his sleeve across his eyes to clear them a bit. It didn't do much, but at least the world wasn't a complete blur.

"Sorry," he sniffled and tried to get back to wrapping his face up. "Sorry. I… You need to… your face shouldn't be uncovered too long, yet, baby."

The quavering in his voice was bad and he wouldn't have been surprised if half of what he'd said had been lost. So it didn't surprise him when Shota turned his head, ensuring that his attempts to care for him were foiled.

"Hizashi, stop."

He did. He stopped because he was getting nowhere and everything in Shota's tone told him that if he couldn't listen, they were going to have some problems. And the last thing either of them needed was another problem. So he stopped and put the bandages on the coffee table, waiting for Shota to say something and pretend he didn't still hear his poor attempts to conceal sharp, shaky inhales.

Shota helped him with that too, though, because as soon as he opened his eyes, Hizashi didn't know if he was even breathing anymore. It was no more than a squint, but it was enough that they could meet each other's gaze, and Hizashi's brain felt like it had short circuited when the tears in his eyes just… stopped flowing. And of course, that was exactly what Shota seemed to have been banking on happening. Despite the grimace pulling his lips taut, he still looked satisfied with himself.

"Good," he said, the word a low rumble in his chest, "now calm down."

Hizashi wasn't sure what to say. Even though in the back of his mind he was yelling that Shota couldn't be doing that because he ran the risk of hurting himself even more, he couldn't stop himself from doing whatever Shota commanded. He couldn't deny him his request, not when he was looking at him like that. Not when he could see him.

Hizashi wondered what kind of sight he was, with his tear streaked face and snot getting caught in his mustache.

Probably not the best sight for sore eyes, but… at least he was a sight at all. Shota could see him, if the softness in his expression was any indication. He wasn't blind. His quirk still might've been damaged, but he hadn't lost his vision.

Relief flooded his body, turning him to jelly and Hizashi sagged forward, letting his hands find their way back to the sides of Shota's neck while he carefully settled his forehead against his. The action managed to drag the smallest of smiles from Shota as he let his eyes fall closed once more like they were supposed to be.

"Good." He said again, little more than a whisper this time. With their proximity, it was all he needed to hear him, and Hizashi closed his eyes, letting his breathing play catch up with Shota's until his heart rate calmed and he could focus on something other than his worry.

It was around that time that Shota decided to tilt his head up and pressed a feather-light kiss to the end of his nose. Hizashi's eyes popped open in surprise and he pulled away to inspect his husband. The lines that had been etched into Shota's face, while still there, had smoothed out just enough to be noticeable, making him look the slightest bit less haggard. It was his turn to smile softly, and Hizashi found it much easier to breathe.

When he went to reapply the bandages then, there were no orders to stop, and his hands no longer shook. However, it wasn't until Shota's face was completely covered and protected once more that Hizashi finally found his voice.

"Y'know… I love a good smooch as much as the next guy, baby, but you shouldn't open your eyes for any reason."

Perhaps it was a bit late to scold him, but Hizashi felt like he would be being irresponsible if he didn't at least let how he felt about the whole ordeal be known. Of course, Shota was unfazed, and even with his expression obscured from sight, he knew the man was rolling his eyes. The deadpanned cheeky response he got cemented that in for him, too.

"What are you talking about? They're closed."

Hizashi found his only proper reaction to that was to shake his head. He wasn't sure what he'd done to get Shota acting more normal than he had in days, but he was glad he did it. Selfish as it may have been, Hizashi wasn't sure he'd have been able to stay sane without some of their old banter to help him out. Perhaps Shota had been just as stressed as he about the prospect of not seeing again, and after putting those worries to rest, could be more at ease. Either way, Hizashi was thankful. Even if Shota was a bit reckless when it came to his own well being, he knew exactly how to calm him down.

But, he couldn't be the only one doing the nice things, especially when Hizashi was supposed to be the one caring for him- it was funny how often he could turn the tables like that. Hizashi ran a hand through Shota's hair, mindful of the tangles, and planted his lips to the top of his head right after. Shota sagged into the chair, and Hizashi applauded the small success. He wasn't done yet, though.

"Want me to rub your shoulders?"

"I won't complain if you do."

I wrote this because I needed content like it in my life and nobody else was delivering it. Also because I saw malacandrax‘s beautiful art and I about died (the scene drawn is one that I put in here, so check it out and weep with me)!

[donnerpartyofone]

So, here is my deal. I have been single for a year now, after being in a long term relationship and I am really struggling to impress women. I’ve tried all the classic dating apps, starting casual conversations, and nothing seems to do the trick. I wouldn’t call myself handsome, but not an eyesore either. I am exercising, but still have a few extra pounds. Any tip for how to land something long term? That I should try?

EDIT: Hopefully you haven’t read this yet--I just reread your question, and realized you’ve only been out of your last LTR for a year. Certainly you know you better than I do, but I would strongly recommend being single for a little longer than that, to really clear your system of whatever is still rattling around in there. It’ll be better for you in the long run, and probably better for whoever you date next too. At the risk of being too accusative with a total stranger, you might wanna read a couple of articles on serial monogamy, and decide if any of it rings true with you, before proceeding.

Well, that’s a pretty complex question! Obviously I don’t know you, so I have to generalize a lot. I guess I have a few bullet points that may or may not be useful. It’s worth saying that even though I’m a lady and that means we face these challenges in different ways, I do know where you’re coming from. I’ve been with very few people in my life, was rejected or ignored by a lot more, and I had to go through a long stretch of facing the idea that I might truly die alone–which included realizing that that should not be the worst case scenario that everybody neurotically makes it out to be. So, here are the things I think:

- I wonder where you live, what kind of scene there is around you. Sometimes it might not be the worst idea to entertain a pen pal-type beginning, from the internet, or whatever you can dig up for a resource. Especially if your main goal is making a lasting connection with somebody (which would be something that many people would consider moving out of state for), it’s really worth considering that that person might live literally anywhere. It’s also worth acknowledging whether your immediate environment is just not conducive to healthy dating, for whatever reason. Even in a huge bustling city like NYC, where I live, statistical realities may affect your ability to find what you are looking for. Here, women outnumber men so radically that if you’re female and you’re looking for dudely companionship, you may have to put up with all sorts of bullshit, because men have an embarrassment of choice.  A lot of them feel no obligation whatsoever to get tied down, even if they think they’re “nice guys” and they’re not really consciously aware of this, even if they have a really attractive woman on the hook. My gay male friends make pretty much the exact same complaint to me: That New York has this reputation of having a huge supportive gay community, but the reality is that men who are willing to settle down are really hard to find, because they just have so many options, and even a lot of the guys who think they want a relationship are just all fighting over the same handful of top 10 status-symbol twinks all the time anyway. Soooo that’s all about how hard it is to find a standard boyfriend where *I* live, but like, there could be something legitimately similar going on with finding a girlfriend near you. It’s not ALWAYS your own fault if you can’t get what you want. 

- A lot of people who say that they just wanna be with “someone nice”, or who make generalizations like “NOBODY likes them,” are hiding or ignoring the fact that they actually want something pretty specific. That’s not a crime, it’s just something that would be better to be honest about with yourself. The little you’ve said here makes it sound like goal for you is just, being in a long term relationship. Obviously you have a right to that, but even if you’re NOT unconsciously rejecting people who don’t fit your secret standards, you still may face the problem that your candidates could find your open-mindedness a little impersonal. Obviously you’re not telling people you “just wanna be in a relationship” out loud, but intuition is a powerful thing, especially when it’s fed by body language or subtle behavioral cues. People can become supernaturally perceptive when questions of sex or dating are on the table. So, this might be a good time to interrogate what your goal means to you. When you try to imagine what you’re looking for in really specific terms, what does it look like? What comes out of a long term relationship, that you absolutely can’t get out of any other part of your life? Are those things that you can live without? Also, what kind of person do you imagine being with? If your answer is really vague, or kind of amounts to something like “just someone who treats me well”, try to refine that. If people sense that your standards are totally amorphous because your only goal is having someone to warm your bed, then they’re not going to be really flattered by your attention. I mean you can find people out there who want to be in a relationship just to be in a relationship, but they usually also want babies and all the social, marital trappings above all else. There are apps for that. 

- You’ve probably heard this before, and you’re going to roll your eyes when you hear it again, but “looks” aren’t THAT important. At least for straight dudes, mostly. I’m definitely not going to tell you that looks don’t matter at all, at which point you would know not to believe anything I say, but there’s more going on here. I’ve known plenty of men in the plain-to-ugly range, as traditional standards go, who have dated beautiful women, and/or just lots and lots of women, because they have really inviting personalities: Some combination of, they’re really funny, they have a lot of confidence, they’re super bright, they communicate well about their passions in life, they’re really nice (not “I held the door for you so now you have to fuck me” nice–which is called “being fake” actually–but compassionate/considerate/humble/genuinely interested nice), etc. I also have known plenty of guys in the upper register of physical attractiveness who don’t perform the way you might expect them to because they act fucking weird: any combo of pushy, argumentative, withholding, insecure, superior, combative if you try to be kind to them, or sometimes they just haven’t trained themselves to engage–like, they act like OTHER PEOPLE should compensate for their shyness, and they become resentful if they believe YOU didn’t work hard enough to pry them out of THEIR shell. So like it’s a good thing to care about your appearance and your hygiene and everything, but a big part of the reason that stuff matters is that it shows you care about yourself. No matter what you look like, if you carry around this vibe that it’s somebody else’s job to make you feel good about yourself or your life, then all you��re going to attract is nobody–or people who are seriously damaged, which you probably don’t want either. Depression and insecurity are as normal as they are difficult, but it’s important to try to show that you’re not gonna be somebody’s full time job, with a combination of personal presentation AND personality. The latter is more important.

- At this point you’re probably thinking, “This is like that thing where you need experience to get a job, but you can only get experience FROM getting a job, so where am I supposed to get all this confidence from if my confidence is constantly eroded by rejection?” Well, that’s a good question! This stuff can take like a superhuman amount of effort. Unfortunately there’s no just and reliable way to simply fix this conundrum. I will say this, though: One thing you can do is just try to stop being so focused on it. Yes, I know, THAT SOUNDS REALLY HARD ALSO. But if you can achieve it, to some degree, then it takes a lot of pressure off both yourself and other people, leading to interactions that are easier and more fun, which takes you a big step in the right direction. I’m more or less speaking from experience. I had been painfully oriented toward being in a relationship for most of my life. Men have almost never wanted anything to do with me, for any number of reasons: I’ve never been what you’d call hot, I act like a fucking weirdo, I get along so well with guys that they tend to just think of me as another guy (I’d called this being “friendzoned” if I were a WAY BIGGER ASSHOLE), and surely the few people I was close enough to to try to start something could tell that I was pretty desperate about it. Because I was so…yeah, desperate, about being in a relationship, I took what I could get, and on all but one of the very few past occasions where I “got” something, it turned into a gnarly abusive nightmare, some of which I’m still processing. So, there came a point in time when I really had to review what I’d been doing. I started to ask myself really hard questions like, why DO I need to be in a relationship? Isn’t it true that I would still have to have other things to live for, even if I DID get into a decent relationship? What are those things? Can’t I just start focusing more on those things NOW? Basically I started to experiment with going about my days as if I knew for a fact that I would never get into a relationship, ever. It wasn’t exactly a party, at first, but I knew I was doing a good thing for myself. Actually, it was the only rational thing I could think to do. Then, a month or two later, I met the man I’m going to marry in December. I was sort of confounded by it, like I had finally made this big achievement in being more zen about everything, when I suddenly found myself in a serious, healthy relationship. I almost felt like some kind of hypocrite. But anyway, my explanation was that I was finally in a mental state where I was genuinely ready to be in that kind of relationship, I was prepared to enter it as my own person, without all kinds of baggage about what I “needed” to get out of it. I must have been putting out that vibe, finally.

So these are just some ideas, if there were a surefire fix for your situation, then everybody in the world would know about it already. I guess I’d just conclude by saying that if you can remember that “life isn’t fair” AND you can prevent yourself from blaming others for that, then you’re already a lot closer to getting what you want, than people who think they’re owed satisfaction. Which is a LOT of people.

[joiedevivrevehicles]

Renault Megane R.S. 2021 update Info

Five-door, turbocharged, auto-only Megane RS is unashamed of the new school - but don't hold that against it.

It's becoming the norm to speak of a golden era for hot hatches. Fast, practical, huge fun and inexpensive to run; the class-leading contenders let you have it all. Yet given how long this period has lasted, it might be better to consider brilliant hot hatches as mere par for the course in 2021. There simply isn't a dud in the line-up, from Fiesta ST through Toyota GR Yaris to Mercedes-AMG A45. Buyers are spoilt for choice - and the manufacturers have upped their game accordingly.

It was into a sector only marginally less competitive than 2021's that the third iteration of Renault Sport Megane arrived. The brief was tough - to keep the old guard of R.S. fans happy while bringing new buyers into the fold - but the form book spoke for itself: Renault Sport had been the standard bearers since the turn of the century.

As it transpired, the old 280 and 300 Trophy (all models now have 300hp, and the manual option has gone) achieved as many hits as they did misses. There was a lot to like in isolation, the Renault Megane being exciting and engaging in its own way, but the fact remained that it wasn't as fun to drive as its predecessor nor as nice to use every day as a Golf GTI. Of course, it escaped no one that the former was hard to achieve while pursuing the latter.

Now, three years later, we have a facelift. And, more importantly than that, a Renault Sport facelift. Which, for whatever reason, often feel like more than the sum of their parts. A tinker of this and a tweak of that often seem to have significant influence - think Clio 197 to 200 and Megane 225 to 300. Furthermore, the Megane tested here might just be the best option in the range: the Sport chassis with that now-compulsory EDC dual-clutch gearbox. Few will mourn the demise of the obdurate manual or the stiffness of a Trophy chassis, which can be wearing on the road. If the Megane is really going to be up with the class best - the i30 N now has a DCT option as well, plus there's the Focus ST automatic - then it's most probably in this configuration.

INTERIOR

It's funny how quickly and substantially quality perceptions alter. Back in 2018 the Mk7 Golf GTI was still being lauded for the cohesion of its cabin, against which the old Megane R.S. could only offer an unresponsive touchscreen, cheap ventilation controls and awkward integration of the manual gearbox. It was far from brilliant.

How times have changed. Not only has the latest Golf seemingly dropped the ball as far as ease of use goes, but Renault’s new EasyLink system has also moved the Megane's interior on leaps and bounds. Still a portrait layout and now with a 9.3-inch display, it rights the wrongs of before: specifically, the screen responds promptly to every command and maintains the consistent smartphone connection it couldn't manage before. With more vibrant displays and user-friendly menus, in addition, EasyLink is a big step forward for the Megane.

That's not the only thing, either. Those scratchy, unsatisfying controls for the air-con have been upgraded to weightier, higher-quality knurled dials, again a noticeable improvement and vastly preferable to the weird VW sliding scale. The R.S.-branded 'Multi-Sense' drive mode button - cycling through Comfort, Normal, Sport, Race and MySense - has been enlarged and repositioned from the dash to the transmission tunnel. Again, it's another small point that improves usability - it's far easier for your left hand to reach now, and no longer means the hazards might be pressed by accident.

Though Renault offers Recaro seats (and, it says, a 20mm lower driving position as a result) as an option on the Trophy, there's precious little cause for complaint in the standard ones. They don't look as racy, sure, but are well-sited, decently supportive and plenty comfortable enough. Perhaps the driving position isn't beyond improvement - the pedals are a little offset, and more reach adjustment would benefit the taller driver - but it is extremely competitive in a way its predecessor was not.

ENGINE & GEARBOX

The Megane is unique in its segment for using just 1.8-litres to make 300hp. Most rivals deploy 2.0-litre engines, and the Focus ST offers fully another half a litre of swept capacity from its 2.3-litre Ecoboost. For the Renault, a bore of 79.7mm and a stroke of 90.1mm means 1,798cc in total, with 300hp at 6,000rpm and 399.97Nm at 2,400rpm - as per the previous model, and competitive in its class. The closest rival on paper would be Hyundai's i30 N DCT, with 280hp and 391.83Nm.

Interestingly, given the hot hatch trend, the Megane only uses six gears for its dual-clutch automatic - all other rivals have seven, and the Hyundai goes with eight. The seven-speed is used in the Alpine A110 with the same engine isn't rated for the additional torque. It makes the R.S. a tad busier on the motorway than might be expected, cruising at little less than 3,000rpm, and can't aid fuel economy either - the official combined is 33, which is the same as Honda's more powerful, manual-geared Civic Type R.

Furthermore, although the six-speed auto is broadly speaking a decent gearbox - and comes with nice shift paddles - it isn't without fault. In the sportier drive modes, it's too keen to both hold a gear and kick down, making what might just be a spirited drive feel a lot more frenetic than it needs to. It's prone to indecision, too, and can change at inopportune moments. There are fewer issues in normal conditions, so it's often preferable to take manual control with the paddles for driving a bit quicker - their size and travel make them satisfying to use and the gearbox is responsive to fingertip requests. In the Sport and Race modes, kick down and the automatic upchanges are disabled, too. It's another welcome touch for enthusiasts that aren’t replicated everywhere.

The Megane's engine remains as likeable as ever, performance belying its relatively modest stature. While there isn't the ultimate zeal of something like the Civic's 2.0-litre unit, the R.S. is more than willing to rev; peak torque at higher engine speeds makes it a tad less accessible than some rivals, the flipside being a more thrilling, boostier nature. An augmented induction gurgle isn't unpleasant, especially when complemented by a very vocal set of exhaust pipes. Many have tried (and most have failed) to get the right mixture of civility and silliness from hot hatch exhausts in recent years - none have done it better than Renault.

In terms of raw performance, the numbers are again competitive: the Megane will reach 100km/h in less than six seconds, and reach beyond 257.5km/h. There's never any desire for more, truth be told.

CHASSIS

In a world of increasing chassis configurability - optional dampers on an Octavia vRS bring 15 different settings - it's refreshing to see Renault Sport's confidence in a passive suspension set up. Buy a Sport and you get that chassis; buy a Trophy and you get the Cup chassis - 10 per cent stiffer overall with tweaks to springs, dampers, anti-roll bars and bump stops. There's no chopping and changing. You'll get 19-inch wheels as standard, too; the Sport comes with 18s, though this test car had larger rims optioned on - as most buyers will.

Now, a good passive chassis can be great - superior even, if its compromise is neatly struck. Trouble is a bad one can be a pain in the... well, everywhere really. Which was the old Trophy's issue, really, and it would be a surprise to find it any different this time around - inspirational in the right surroundings and doubtless a boon on circuit, but pretty tough the rest of the time.

For road use, it's hard to argue against the Sport chassis. If not as supple as the good old days, but neither is the Megane punishing, it blends comfort and control really well. Even on the optional, larger wheels you'll not curse it on a motorway journey, nor bemoan its lack of composure on a B-road.

In fact, the R.S. 300 Sport is, broadly speaking, a lot of fun when the road goes from major to minor. The oft-criticised 4Control rear-wheel steer remains standard fitment and, though still not the most intuitive, the system does seem to work better in conjunction with the slightly more accommodating Sport chassis. It's still sharp off centre, albeit not quite as darty and unnerving as previous Trophys. It helps no end that the rest of the car radiates poise - hydraulic bump stops really are handy on a craggy country lane - in the finest French tradition.

What a shame, then, that so much of the hard work is almost undone by the lack of a locking differential. No doubt the Megane was more exposed than usual in miserable January conditions, but to offer a 300hp, front-wheel drive car of any kind with only an open diff (the Trophy's Torsen isn't available on the Sport) seems like madness. Where rivals would dig in and redeploy torque somewhere useful, the Sport pushes wide with one tyre messily spinning up. The Perfohub front suspension, chunky 245-section Bridgestones (on the 19-inch wheel, otherwise 235) and well-sorted traction control do a good job, with far better purchase than might be expected - but ultimately they're fighting a losing battle. This means at those points where the Megane looks set to go from very good to even better, the hardware (or lack thereof) lets the side down.

For those eyeing up the Megane as a Golf GTI alternative, perhaps a traction deficit at the handling limit isn't the end of the world. On the other hand, a limited-slip differential could be on the options list for keen drivers that would make a precious little difference in everyday driving - certainly not in a way that stiffer suspension or a louder exhaust might - while unlocking the best from the chassis. There's little to complain about in the braking department, with 355mm discs up front, and 290mm behind, the former being clamped by Brembo callipers. In that typical Renault Sport fashion, the initial pedal feel is a little soft, but there's decent feel and performance once into the meat of the travel.

COSTS

The current crop of hot hatches is hard enough to separate on the road - and it's much the same on paper. The new Megane RS range begins at R633,900, which will likely lead some to throw up their hands. But consider this: the first Trophy launched in 2005 at R397,000 allowing for inflation that's R596,000 today - that’s not a big difference. Compared to the Renault Megane price, which starts at R325,900 at Group 1 Renault, it seems excessive, but consider all the ‘extras’ you’ll get.

This particular Megane R.S. 300 Sport was R716,360 with extras like the Flame Red paint, 19-inch wheel upgrade, Alcantara upholstery and heated seats. For reference, the last Golf GTI we tested was optioned toR768,793, and the Civic R738,314. Beyond a panoramic sunroof, there isn't anything more to add to the Renault. Smartphone mirroring with the big screen, a 10-inch TFT driver display, BOSE stereo, LED lights, reversing camera and a suite of active safety technology is all standard. That the latter never saw fit to intervene speaks to how well it's integrated.

The older design of dual-clutch means the Megane might be a little more expensive to run than some rivals. A less powerful Golf GTI is officially 5mpg and 25g/km better off, and a Focus ST automatic is said to be capable of 40mpg. Furthermore, as the Megane nudges over 190g/km - depending on wheel size it's 191 or 192g/km.

VERDICT

By and large, this latest Renault Sport Megane update achieves what you'd like every facelift to do: address weaknesses while leaving what was good untouched. So it's still the best looking car in the class, plenty fast enough and apparently built in a way that will dispel all your old French quality myths. In addition, a markedly improved interior makes it more appealing both in the showroom and in day-to-day use - to look at and to sit in, the Megane does feel good as well (if not better than) anything else in its class. You'd be very happy to see this parked on your drive, and that counts for a lot. A Civic Type R might not sit so well in suburbia.

Your priorities will ultimately dictate where the Megane lands in the final pecking order. Those after the best hot hatch to drive are still better served by the Honda, which is more capable overall and just as engaging in its own way. It shouldn't be forgotten, either, that the rear seats and boot are also more accommodating. 

Nevertheless, this latest R.S. 300 remains a deeply impressive and - perhaps just as importantly - exceptionally likeable car. It's a richer, more rewarding experience than anything currently built on the MQB platform, a nicer place to sit than a Focus ST and a real pleasure to drive briskly. This feels like the most successful iteration of the Megane IV R.S. formula yet, with great usability evident alongside an appreciable Renault Sport edge, and deserves wider recognition as a result. It comes highly recommended. But would be even more so with a limited-slip diff.

SPECIFICATION | RENAULT SPORT MEGANE 300 

Engine: 1,798cc 4-cyl, turbo

Transmission: 7-speed dual-clutch auto, front-wheel drive

Power (hp): 300@6,000rpm

Torque (Nm): 399.97 @ 2,400rpm

0-100km/h: 5.7 seconds

Top speed: 260km/h

Weight: 1,447kg ('kerbweight without options')

MPG: 33.6 (WLTP)

CO2: 191g/km (WLTP)

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Article from https://www.pistonheads.com/

[adventure-hearts]

tri. Chapter 5 - Recap, Analysis, Review [part one]

This is me trying to make sense of of a dense, multilayered chapter that for once brough us more answers than questions. My notes got very long and I ended up taking dozens of screen-caps, so I decided to split this post into four segments (one for each part of the movie). You can expect the others soon, over the next few days.

I hope you survive this!

Chapter 5 (Kyousei - Coexistence or Symbiosis, depending on who you ask) starts where we were left off last time: Mystery Man torturing Meiko in order to make Meicoomon snap, and telling her she should not have been born.

At once, we get another flashback from Meiko's childhood - this time, with a very specific date: Autumn 1999 -- that is, shortly after the events of Digimon Adventure. This has ties with a previous flashback (set in the summer) of Meiko finding Meicoomon in the woods. While the exact time when Meicoomon met Meiko in the human world is still unclear, everything in this chapter points to this meeting happening shortly after August 1-3, that is, after the defeat of Apocalymon.

This flashback shows us two incidents of Meicoomon's past. In the first one, she attacks a group of birds, resulting in loose feathers and a pool of blood, and she soils Meiko's shirt with it. Symbolism aside, it’s unclear what caused the blood: was she hunting or defending herself? Did she “snap” because she was scared, after finding herself away from Meiko? Anyway, this was the first time Meicoomon shown she was capable of being violent.

The second incident is much more serious.

Meiko's father is taking  Meicoomon to the lab to be examined by some Tokyo people. This happens in 1999, when human authorities were trying to make sense of what had happened with the Digimon that summer. Significantly, this seems to suggest that Meiko's father isn't exactly keeping Meicoomon's existence a secret from the authorities; nor does it seem that he’s using his daughter’s Digimon to conduct scientific experiences or anything suspicious.

However, Meicoomon snaps and destroys the lab, injuring Meiko’s father in the process.

We also learn that Himekawa was one of the people who came from Tokyo to see Meicoomon, and her connection to this digimon starts here. This gives us some clues about Maki's age; if in 1999 she was already done with her studies and working for the Agency, so she was at least in her early 20s then. You can do the math yourself, but basically Maki is at least 27 in tri., perhaps older.

Meiko witnesses the incident, in shock. But as soon as shes there, Meicoomon goes back to normal; she’s confused at first, but quickly becomes happy to see Meiko, as if nothing had happened. Maki watches everything with interest. Is this the moment when she realises Meicoomon could play a role in her plans for the Reboot?

Back in the present time, Mystery Man’s plan worked. Meicoomon has gone berserk and is wreaking havoc. The flashback serves to contextualise and explain what’s happening: It seems that what triggers Meicoomon’s transformation is being scared and/or being separated from Meiko -- in other words, Meiko's presence keeps Meicoomon calm and controlled... until now. All this will be explained later in the movie.

Anyway, it’s clear that the distortions Meicoomon is causing are making Mystery Man extremely happy. Digimon start invading the real world, a repetition of both Vamdemon’s invasion and Demon’s invasion.

Meiko calls the transtorned Meicoomon and there’s a tense moment when it seems that she can get Meicoomon to break away from her trance, just like before. Instead, it utterly fails: Meicoomon is confused, screams and agony and finally attacks Meiko. 

Meiko is paralysed and apparently has given up, as she realises that she can no longer reach Meicoomon when she’s in her evil form. As she’s about to get murdered by her own partner, Meiko remembers happy moments they spent together… but fortunately Taichi plays the gallant hero and saves her at the last moment. 

There’s another tense exchange of looks, but it appears that Meicoomon changes her mind about killing her and runs off.

The conclusion from this scene is simple: Meicoomon has snapped so deeply that Meiko can no longer reach her and bring her back to normal; yet, it seems that there’s still something inside her that keeps her from killing Meiko.

Does she? This is the first indication that Meiko’s will to live is perhaps being challenged in Kyousei.  

Takeru recalls Mystery Man’s words about Meicoomon is “the key to destroying” the world - which seems fitting as they’re seeing the Digital World go crazy under her powers. Meanwhile, Meiko is closer to accepting the truth that Meicoomon may be beyond saving at this point.

* 

Speaking of trauma, we find out what’s going on with Maki. After her reunion with Bakumon went wrong, she wanders around with a gun as she watches the destruction and fantasises that this time she will be chosen. 

What does this mean? Now that the Reboot (the plan she spent years working on) has failed, has Maki lost her sanity? Or is she revealing her new plan, a fantasy that a new crisis will give her and Bakumon a second chance to be “chosen”? 

Either way, it doesn’t seem that Maki is acting out of evil intentions or a desire to cause destruction. Raving, she wanders after her partner....

*

Back in the human world, Digimon are causing major problems. Taichi and Hikari’s mother is watching the news on TV and worrying about her kids. She decides to prepare a huge meal for them, her own little contribution to the cause. It seems that tri. Has picked Yuuko as the representative of the children’s families, and her perspective is an important one - especially in a Chapter that focuses so much on the Yagami siblings.

*

With Himekawa missing, nobody is listening to Daigo, who’s worried about the kids being stranded in the Digital World. He decides to take matters into his own hands and meets with Professor Mochizuki, who apparently is no longer invited to speak at the table during important meetings where decisions are being made. You have to wonder if Homeostasis is also behind this - don’t forget Meiko’s father has an emotional investment in this, meaning he’s probably biased towards Meicoomon (if anything, for his daughter’s sake).

Hackmon joins the conversation and finally drops some important answers. 

Homeostasis only agenda is to protect stability. Libra (Meicoomon) is no longer fulfilling her role in that balance and has become to unstable. This was why she was banished (was this why she ended up on the Real World, perhaps after Apocalymon’s demise?).

Finally, with Meiko no longer acting as a balancing force to Meicoomon’s incredible destructive power, the latter is a loose canon and it must be destroyed.

This seems a pretty heartless decision from Homeostasis, but at least it’s consistent with their role in this universe. If you see things from the perspective of “keeping the balance at all costs” this is a reasonable conclusion. Sentiment has no place in Homeostasis’ job.

*

Meanwhile, the Digital World is trying to kill the Chosen Children (and failing miserably at it; but then, after Sora’s improbable survival last Chapter, maybe they’ve all developed inhuman invulnerability). They seek refuge in a cave and try to make sense of what’s happening.

Hikari is the most intuitive member of the team and the one who has a deeper connection with the Digital World, so it’s fitting that she is the first one to sense this and to convey it to the others. Again, this is a side of Hikari’s personality that plays a big role in this movie.

*

Back in the office, Homeostasis has spoken its sentence. Without Meiko’s protection, there’s no hope for Meicoomon.

*

Then we get the scene by the fire, where we get some very subtle, and some very interesting character moments. Everyone’s core personality gets to shine through. For instance, there’s the funny contrast between Mimi’s childlike comment that they could be seeing shooting stars, and Jou’s deadpan pragmatism:

(You can go really meta and pretend this is a reference to “I wish!) 

Yamato has made his decision and is as determined as possible. Remember that he means just that - “stopping”. After all, they all realise that Meicoomon is the source of this mess and she’s causing all these troubles in the real world. But no one is considering destruction at this point. Taichi is asking Koushirou to find a way to get them home, and he’s trying.

The scene then focuses on Meiko, who’s blaming herself because this time she couldn’t stop Meicoomon. The group tries to cheer her up.

There’s a very nice sentiment there. But, remember, at this point the kids aren’t seeing the bigger picture and they still don’t know what we know. They have no idea that this trouble with Meicoomon can’t be solved with good ol’ fashioned friendship, “believing” in each other, or “accepting each other’s faults”.

Still, this scene beautifully explains the wonderful relationship between the partners, from Meiko’s point of view - specificially how they balance each other perfectly and how each duo has its own dynamic. She’s been paying attention to this. Comparing.

But Meiko is reasonably questioning their assumptions. If Meicoomon is so different, how can their relationship compare? Moreover, the partner bonds seem to have been broken beyond repair. Sora reminds Meiko that she’s stopped running and has accepted responsibility for being Meicoomon’s partner.

But now Meiko’s starting to wonder if the fault is actually on her side - she has interpreted these last events as Meicoomon snapping because of her. She’s feeling powerless, thinking that if she was a different type of partner - a different person - this wouldn’t be happening.

This sentence sums a big theme through out this episode (and throughout this series), as multiple characters come back to this difficult question, again and again.

Consider Meiko’s position at this moment: She knows something is wrong with Meicoomon (she’s always had a “problem”) but now she can no longer do anything to make her stop.  Meiko did everything right: She faced the truth, she believed in her partner, she came back for her -- and Meicoomon just tried to murder her. What if she's the problem? What if a more capable partner could have stopped this?

The main point here is this: Meiko’s right to have doubts and to be scared. This isn’t a repetition of her conflict in the previous chapters, because there has been a definit breaking point in her bond with Meicoomon. Meiko isn’t being cowardly or weak, she’s being reasonable before the facts.

[just-sort-of-happened]

The Final Problem: Fear of The Devil, Your Feelings

Yesterday I was saying that maybe this episode is like a horror version of Sherlock in that it’s meant to be a nightmare for fans, it’s the anti-episode, it’s everything it shouldn’t be and we’re supposed to notice.  Today @marta-bee was talking about Uncle Rudy possibly being a reference to an anti-portrait.

This whole series has made a steady stream of references to the devil.  Notably in TST John and Mary discuss twice and through a mirror the difference between the devil and its spawn.  They also discuss movies The Omen and The Exorcist.

Anyway, there’s a funny little moment when John, Sherlock and Mycroft are discussing what to do about their uhm bomb problem when we cut to Mrs Hudson, vacuuming to, ‘the number of the beast’, by Iron Maiden,

Now...  Sure this is a funny little moment.  We already saw that she is a badass in TLD so this fits: she does unexpectedly cool things, right?  Except.  Except this is a very unusual song choice for Mrs Hudson.  

Now, technically Mrs Hudson can be into any song she wants to but.  The Number of the Beast came out in 1982 when she was 45.  (We open the show with a reference to 1982 and arguably this is around the time when Sherlock’s childhood flashbacks are occurring in TFP).  Now maybe she was a 45 year old metal head back then but there’s something odd about this song choice.  That’s why we laugh, it’s strange and we didn’t know she liked this type of music so we are amused. 

But, what was even the point of blowing up Baker Street?  To up the stakes, to start the game, to be the maguffin that gets it all going, sure, but also, maybe, to throw in this weird reference.  TST featured Margaret Thatcher, aka The Iron Lady, as someone who could provide some clues to Sherlock about Mary.  Villain-coded and devil-coded Mary.

“At one point in TST Sherlock is stopped in front of a shrine of pictures of a very bad woman: Thatcher.  He feels something is off but he’s not sure what.  He has extreme foreboding here, the camera work, the lighting, the way the other people disappear. This shrine of Thatcher is about Mary.  Mary is a very bad woman about whom he has a very bad feeling.  And something is missing from the shrine: the bust containing the AGRA flash drive.  So, Sherlock’s instincts tell him Mary is terrible and that he’s missing a piece of information about her: her secret agent past.”  

(italics added later) from this post.

Now, if you thought that the Moriarty element in TFP was silly well, it was.  We saw a flashback and then, apparently, Eures had gotten him to film a series of uhm video clips for her to taunt Sherlock with 5 years later?  Okay.  The thing is Moriarty has been coded as satan I think since their conversation at Baker Street after the court case in TRF.  He has an apple, he owes him a fall, this is symbolism about Sherlock being like Eve and eating the apple of the tree of knowledge and being ejected from Eden.  In TAB Sherlock explicitly states that he’s waiting for the devil when he’s awaiting for Moriarty.  But, no, in fact, Mrs Hudson tells that to Lestrade about why Sherlock is just sitting in his flat for days on end.  

Magnussen also has been called the devil in HLV by Sherlock.  He tells John he made, ‘a deal with the devil’.

All of the villains of Sherlock are connected to water (see @thepineapplering‘s meta here.)  Water is connected to, among other things, emotions via four elements symbolism.

We see Sherlock running from his emotions as early as TGG when he talks about not knowing the solar system.  (He's ironically trying to actually talk about his feelings to John when the latter storms out.  Ironically, he saves a child later on via his obscure astronomical knowledge).  Well, no, we see this retroactively via ASiB when he seems to emotionally skewer the woman for having feelings, however slight.  The solar system and sentiment are both things that others see as basic knowledge (”primary school stuff” associates it to early childhood, even) and that Sherlock has told himself he, ‘deleted’, because he has no use for them.  

So Sherlock’s personal villains, his demons, his devils lurking beneath are emotions.  That’s why all villains are associated to water.

In TFP Eures is literally on a island, she’s isolated and yet trapped by water, surrounded by water.  Isolated and surrounded by feelings, trapped by feelings.  

Now, let’s look at the lyrics to Iron Maiden’s, ‘the number of the beast’, 

“Left alone, my mind was blank. I needed time to think to get the memories from my mind.

What did I see, can I believe, That what I saw that night was real And not just fantasy.

Just what I saw, in my old dreams, Were they reflections of my warped mind Staring back at me.

Cause in my dreams, it's always there, The evil face that twists my mind and brings Me to despair.

Six-six-six the number of the beast. Hell and fire was spawned to be released.

Torches blazed and sacred chants were praised, As they start to cry, hands held to the sky. In the night, the fires burning bright, The ritual has begun, Satan's work is done.

Six-six-six the number of the beast. Sacrifice is going on tonight.

I'm coming back, I will return, And I'll possess your body and I'll make you burn. I have the fire, I have the force.”

X

So, here we can see that this song that Mrs Hudson so innocently and hilariously is listing to is about a man’s visions and nightmares.  From his own deepest fears, from his own psyche.  He questions what he sees, what he sees is the face of the devil and the mark 666.

We’ve seen that TFP doesn’t make a lot of sense plot-wise and that everyone seems out of character.  I mean The EMP warriors have been hammering out meta about this series being fake from day one, so I got nothing special to add to the idea that, ‘it was all a dream’, or, ‘it was all in his head’.  But I do want to say that the devil imagery, the references to the devil, to a nightmare of the devil, that’s of your own making, to water/villians/emotions, all of this does go back to the idea that we’re in Sherlock’s psyche.

There is no sister but rather this is Sherlock’s most isolated essence.  An essence that is lonely and wants to have a friend.  But also one who’s, ‘killed’, said friends before.  Meaning he’s both evil Eures and vulnerable, sad Eures.  He’s a contradiction.  He wants to get close to people and he wants to also bury his feelings in a well.  He’s specifically afraid to get as close to John as he wants to be.  But, he’s now even more afraid that if he pushes him away he will drive him away like he has already done in the past.  

This is his emotional turning point, this is why the theme of, ‘emotional context’, is brought up again and again by Eures in seemingly disjointed ways.  If you don’t face your fears, and face your emotions The Three Garridebs will die.  The romance will die if you don’t dare face it.  The friend in the well cannot wait forever.  You can push your feelings down but eventually they will die.  That person will stop loving you..  Your chance to love like John so adamantly insists at the end of TLD maybe be gone before you realise it.  

Sherlock loved someone before and then he buried that.  (I think that’s Sebastian from TBB).  Now he sees himself doing the same thing to John. He needs to rescue his feelings for John from the well.  The well of his own fear and indifference.  The well full of feelings.  His horror is emotions.  This is his nightmare where nothing is more frightening than emotions.  

Now Eures is a woman.  Sherlock’s deepest emotional aspect is a woman.  Now my friends cringed after TAB when I said that the women in that episode represented Sherlock’s feelings but I really do think that’s one of the meanings of TAB.  Sherlock has always feared his emotions and preferred logic, the mind. The mind, the logical side, etc, has always been associated to the male aspect and to the east.  Feelings, intuition, water, circles, has always been associated to women and to the west.  Now, we have this contrast because Eures is, ‘the East Wind’, associated to being super intelligent, rational to a fault, to the point of being a full-on psycopath.  But, but, there’s also little-girl-lost Eures who will be magically cured by a single hug from Sherlock (see the hug from TLD).  His deepest self, his feelings, are armoured by this extreme reason, a cold calculating machine, a high-fucitininng sociopath.  But, under some very fragile walls lies a very lonely vulnerable, deeply emotional child.  (Remember his realising that the room he is trapped in his fake?  Those are the flimsy walls of his cold exterior, inside is a weeping child who doesn’t know how to be integrate their strong feelings of love and fear).  Remember how little Eures appears at Baker Street and implies she can’t differenciate beween her emotions after cutting herself?  This is meant to show us that she’s disturbed and like inhumanly cold, right?  Except that she’s not cutting up an animal (or other behaviours associated to childhood psychopathy) she’s hurting herself and trying to understand her many feelings.  She is confused by them but not lacking them.

Sherlock is Eures: lonely and trapped by her emotions and yet she can leave at any time.  Sherlock can be free at any time.  (Remember, ‘I want to break free’, by Queen playing as Moriarty got out of the helicopter and made a sexual joke?)  Moriarty represents Sherlock’s sex drive (remember he says he’s Mr Sex in TRF and is Sherlock’s id, in chains, in the basement, in HLV).  His sex drive/Moriarty wants to a) break free and b) visit Eures island of emotional isolation.  He needs to integrate his sexual and his emotional feelings, that’s why Moriarty and Eures must meet.  At Christmas.  A time when Sherlock and John try to talk about their emotions, year after year, it seems.

During 5 minutes at Christmas Sherlock’s sexual attraction and his feelings met for the first and only time, maybe.  Maybe it’s in ASiB?  Maybe it’s in HLV?  We can speculate as to which 5 minutes were most poignant and why but I think we can see that every once in a while, maybe on a special occasion like Christmas or a birthday (TLD hug) we can have a break through where emotion and attraction meet and you know, break free.

PS we saw a sort of villainous version of John in TLD via Culverton (with tons of deeply sexual overtones) from @warmth-and-constancy.  And then we see John go into the balcony at Sherrinford and just plain old look at the water.  We see him in relation to water just as we first see Culverton.  John, again, is being subtly coded as a villain.  But, why?  Because John is the person that Sherlock’s in love with.  He is the villain because he is making Sherlock face his deepest fear.  Sherlock is literally horrified of being in love, hence John and the water imagery.  

Eures literally is Samara Morgan from the Ring and from Appointment with Samarra.  Sherlock must inevitably face her, his inner fears, his deepest demons.  And Samara from the Ring becomes a supernatural monster because she was abused, neglected, left alone.  She died in a well.  This is Sherlock’s monstrous side (remember, ‘he’s our monster’, from TLD?).  A little child who just needed love but instead was isolated and alone.  This is Sherlock.  Literally being Samara and having an appointment with himself.  (Here I was talking about Appointment with Samarra vs Samara Morgan but with John as the little girl)

When he said he needed to go, ‘deeper into himself’, in TAB, well, he wasn’t kidding. 

Oh, one more thing, the reason that Mrs Hudson’s song struck me was because that scene is followed by one where a guy says he doesn’t know where Sherlock is and then we see those two fisherman on a boat.  The camera angle is very low and instead of cutting back and forth we get a (seemingly) continuous shot.  The effect is nauseating and discombobulating (suggestive of being a dream).  We also see this odd object on the wall that looks like a simplified devil logo: a face and horns,

But also I just realised it’s also a circle.  And a mirror.  So this is Sherlock’s greatest fear, greatest horror: feelings and introspection with regards to said feelings.  That’s the true devil, here, the true villain.

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Hi again Frank! How do you feel about homotopy type theory? Are you excited about it? Do you think it will be useful in the future?

Good stuff.

You might be asking because I wrote about homotopy type theory here. I guess it's not clear whether that post was about my opinion of it in the abstract, or about me trying to find something funny to write about, but it's probably the latter.

(If you're asking about it per se, rather than it being what inspired me to write that post, I have more thoughts about it here)

Anyway yeah, it looks like a great framework for formalizing math stuff in general, including formalizing what I was talking about in that post (and making the stuff I talked about easier to formalize).

I don't know of any immediate applications that make me optimistic about it. It has a lot of issues that need work, and there are a few specific problems I'm interested in solving that I imagine could not be done well in its current state.

I do know I want to read more about its theory as soon as I can, and I'll say I'm excited about it on that basis alone.

My interest in homotopy type theory really started when my dad told me that he had been reading something by Martin-Lof. I was reading the notes from that paper last summer and it was giving me a lot of "yeah, I agree"s about formalisms based around type theory, but nothing to get me really excited. Then I read about Martin-Lof's "h-minimal" type theory, and it was finally something that sounded like math to me. Now I'm going back and rereading some of the articles mentioned in this post, like the ones by Voevodsky and Lawvere, and reading about Martin-Lof's work is like the actual stuff that cool people did for which I can only just stand in awe. In a way I didn't fully appreciate before reading more about Martin-Lof's stuff. It's still not something I want to do everyday, and I think that's true for everyone, but I do want to know more about it, and I will keep trying to do this for as long as it's interesting. (Although I also have a lot of other stuff that I want to do with my time, and probably can't do all of this. So…)

I have no idea how far this will take me.

I know there are a lot of things Martin-Lof's group is working on that don't get talked about too much. For example, some kind of "coherence theory" that allows us to describe formal systems like Martin-Lof's type theory that are not themselves models of ZFC set theory. This strikes me as interesting and potentially important work, although I could be mistaken about the importance.

I'm also interested in the general subject of "formal models of informal concepts." In the context of my posts here, I was thinking about a concept that could be formalized in type theory (I wanted it to "apply to functions"), but I was having trouble finding a natural "example" that I could formalize in this way. One thing that comes to mind for me is the concept of a "group structure" (e.g. "G is a group"). I was thinking, if there's a set of objects (e.g. "elements of G") and a set of arrows (e.g. "group operation" or "action by left multiplication") that obeys some intuitive axioms like associativity and existence of an identity element and such, that this has a natural way to be defined using the type theory, but I've never seen anything like this in a specific formalization. I'm not saying "well, that can't work in Martin-Lof's formalism because it's defined relative to ZFC so it will never be well-defined," I'm saying "the formalization doesn't have anything else like this that I can think of that I could be thinking about when I was talking about my idea." I've heard the same thing said about, e.g., group actions on manifolds/group actions on categories, which I guess just kind of come up in any reasonable sense of mathematics, but never have I seen a good formalization that was just about "actions" rather than some other abstract structure.

So that's another idea I'd like to investigate: to formalize the notion of "actions" in a way that seems natural, and that maybe isn't entirely about formalizing mathematical stuff. I would want to know if you have any ideas like this too.

As a side note, the term "h-minimal" is not my own. From this post.

One of the reasons I'm reading about homotopy type theory is to try to formalize "what I care about when I care about type theory": the idea that "things aren't always typed correctly" isn't actually something that can be said about the object, but it can be said about how that object interacts with some model, and there are a lot of interesting things about that model.

This is a complicated point and I am a little bit lost about where to go with it. I hope I am putting it on the right track at all.

[thewadapan]

I made a full 13-episode animated web series with Plotagon.

Creator’s Commentary

I was just messing around and then this happened.

I stumbled upon Plotagon via Aris Martinian’s Worm Abridged series, itself a derivative work based on Wildbow’s epic web serial Worm. Impressed by the software’s results, I downloaded it on a whim. The editor soon draws you into its fast and intuitive user interface and before long I had a draft of what would become “I Hate You”.

Having seen Aris Martinian’s work on Worm Abridged and Satan’s Threads, I really wasn’t expecting to produce anything on that level of quality. Instead I saw it more as an outlet - and indeed, the themes of Are You Happy are representative of the kind of headspace I’ve been in. Most literally, a recent falling out inspired the rough outline of episode one.

I’ve gone on a bit of a kick lately in terms of using restrictive programs to tell stories. Plotagon’s plot editor is almost the antithesis of Marvel: Create Your Own (an online comic editor I used to create “Everything Is Red Now”) in that using it doesn’t feel like deliberate self-harm. Making stuff with Plotagon is actually a lot of fun.

The “movie script” aspect of the editor is inspired and you can hit play at any point to see what you’ve got so far. Sure, there are restrictions - you can only have two characters in a scene, you often have next to no control over camera angles, there aren’t really enough actions (and, to a lesser extent, expressions) to choose from, strange intonation can often ruin the delivery of lines, and most of the program’s assets must be purchased via microtransactions. It’s far from a perfect experience, and yet at the same time I can’t get mad at Plotagon. There’s an infectious, self-aware excitement to be found throughout the developers’ promotional videos, and you can’t help but share that excitement at times.

Plotagon includes its own video-sharing service, which seems to mostly be used by middle-schoolers as a strange kind of social network. I left that aspect of the program alone, choosing instead to render my videos directly to mp4 and thumbnails as animated GIFs (features which feels almost too convenient for this program, but I’m not complaining).

I also chose to ignore the “record your own dialogue” feature and the optional subtitles. A theme I was going for was that these characters struggle to communicate, and the stilted auto-generated dialogue played into that. However, that same awkward delivery ended up making a fair few jokes fall flat. In hindsight I probably should’ve just changed the jokes.

Plotagon gives you a few characters to start off - four teenagers and two adults in an even gender split, plus Santa. The two adults are Ms. Green, who I forgot to utilise, and Mr. Hernandez. The teenagers are Jessica, Samir, Lizzie, and Scott (the guy Mr. Hernandez picks a fight with in episode two). It also provides “Chris the custom character” as the only editable example.

I messed around in the character editor and created Katia and Philippe, and later made Detective Raymond and the devil (who I dubbed “Literally The Devil”) as the plot demanded. It’s only now that I realise I gave Philippe the same t-shirt and footwear as Chris - oh well. I’m also not really sure why I gave Katia red eyes like LTD.

I’d planned to give Raymond some kind of uniform, but everything good was locked. His strange outfit ended up informing his character.

Literally The Devil was male at first, basically by default. I soon decided to avoid the traditional slick-hair-and-a-suit look in favour of a fiery haircut and casual clothing. Their t-shirt, which reads “Speak up against bullying!” was chosen on sight. Trying to find a combination of lower-body clothing that worked with this t-shirt proved difficult, and the decision to make LTD female was cemented when I realised that the red skirt looked far better than the other options (although how this turned out at the bus stop was unfortunate). Lizzie clearly had problems with authority, and I liked the idea that she identified with the devil on some level. I guess LTD’s design is just a manifestation of that.

The decision to do thirteen episodes (the typical length of a “run” of TV) including a three-part finale was made at some point after episode seven, with the death of Mr. Hernandez death serving as a springboard for the rest of the story. Indeed, it isn’t until episode four that we get some kind of explicit continuity. The title of the finale, “The Agenda”, and its inconsistent numbering are a reference to the three-part Season 2 finale of Beast Wars: Transformers of all things.

Three episodes of the series end with the line “bye Felicia(s)”, and another three end with “well shit”. There’s a parallel where Lizzie expresses disappointment in an authority figure using the latter phrase in her first and last episodes - Jessica’s use of the phrase in episode six is less disappointed and more surprised.

“White-Hat Hacking” is, incidentally, my least favourite episode of the series. Most background music is available under the editor’s “music” category, but some falls under “sound” for some reason. Once a sound is played, it cannot be stopped manually - this means that the “pirate ditty” I wanted to use for Jessica needed to play for a set length of time and I needed to stall in order to get Raymond’s entrance right. This basically resulted in a bunch of low-effort jokes existing purely to support another low-effort joke - someone getting arrested for piracy.

Other episodes I rate poorly include episode three, “What Are We Learning Today?”, and episode nine, “Ever Get Tired Of Movies?”. Episode three is barely thirty seconds long and consists of maybe two jokes, and the “well shit” line doesn’t really work in the moment.

Episode nine, on the other hand, is the third-longest. With Jessica and Lizzie both under arrest I knew I was planning a breakout, so I grabbed two random characters I’d thrown together in the editor and sat them down on a sofa. I guess I find the idea of people watching a movie together occasionally weird, because it’s a kind of social interaction without social interaction (I suppose that’s why it’s such a popular choice for first dates), so I decided to use that as the basis of Katia’s insecurities. I’m not really happy with how her relationship with Philippe came across, and I think that’s mostly down to eccentricities in intonation and animation. The first draft of “Ever Get Tired of Movies?” was even less funny than the final draft, which says a lot. Still, it provides an interesting change of pace - the fact that Katia and Philippe’s flaws aren’t as blatant as those of the rest of the cast helps cement them as worthwhile additions in my opinion.

I’m probably happiest with how episode seven, “The Faculty Bathroom”, turned out. Jessica’s monologue in episode six opened the door for a single-character episode, and something about the idea of showing Mr. Hernandez on his forty-five minute smoke break appealed to me. Only one bathroom is available freely, one which clearly belongs in a house, but most people often perceive their teachers as living in their schools and I like the idea that, on some level, Mr. Hernandez lives in this bathroom.

We’ve all had teachers who are nice enough people but who are terrible at their jobs, and Mr. Hernandez falls squarely into that category. We don’t even know he’s a teacher until his second appearance, because in his first he’s too busy getting advice from a man dressed as Santa.

A friend of mine suggested that Santa should quote Genghis Khan in “What is the Meaning of Life?”, and this quote ended up informing his behaviour in the rest of the series. I knew from the start that this man wasn’t really Santa, and I like the juxtaposition between who he is and how he presents himself.

I didn’t set out to have a particular “protagonist” in this series, but Lizzie settled into that role and I ran with it as best as I could. The final episode, in my opinion, struck a good balance between humour and offbeat drama. I’d kept the weirdness firmly rooted in reality until that point, which makes LTD’s introduction all the more surprising. Incidentally, the sound effects used for the transitions to and from the green room were: “death beam”, “arrow hit”, “bone crack”, “fart”, “crash”, “soda can opening” and “swoosh”.

Several people commented on the abruptness of the ending, saying that it lacked closure. Does LTD actually exist? Does hell? I’d say no, but it doesn’t really matter either way. I see the finale as being about Lizzie recognising that her life isn’t going in a direction she likes and deciding to change that, and I guess that was enough for me.

I picked the title Are You Happy mostly on a whim - LTD asks Lizzie this question in the finale, and I think almost everyone in the show is unhappy about something or other. Bo Burnham has a song under the same title, but that wasn’t an intentional link. If I had to pick an overall theme for the series, I’d probably choose Precious Kid’s “Jaded”, not least because it includes the question “are you happy” in its lyrics.

Plotagon remains on my taskbar for now, unopened. People have asked if I plan to make any more. Probably not, but you never know.

[midwifemilktrails]

Persistently Patient

After dilating quite quickly from the time labor started, Jessica arrived at the birth center expecting to have her baby in her arms in no time. However, the nature of childbirth isn’t always that predictable and labor carried on. Despite Jessica’s own annoyance as to how long the birth was taking, she was reassured by the calm presence of her birth team, which helped her stay positive and patient. 10 hours later and laboring in every imaginable position, she pushed through and gave birth to her baby girl.  

What interested you in a birth center birth? 

In addition to seeing the Business Of Being Born, I have a few friends who had birth center and/or home birth deliveries. In fact, one of them had her youngest at Del Mar Birth Center. From what I heard and learned, I liked the idea of having more options, a quiet and calm delivery room and best of all: midwifery care!

You started your care at the birth center almost half way through your pregnancy, how did you make this switch? 

I started at an OB/GYN for monetary reasons. I wrongly assumed that my insurance wouldn't cover midwifery care. I didn't get to meet my doctor until right before I transferred, and when I did it just didn't feel right.

Harper was due around the holidays, and my doctor said he probably wouldn't be available to deliver her unless I scheduled a cesarean or induction beforehand. This was moments before I was about to tell him about my wishes for a natural birth. I called Del Mar the next day. 

I had actually toured the birth center before I conceived, so I knew when I called that I wanted to make the switch there and then. I requested to have my records transferred and had an appointment a few days latter. It was easy! 

What was the difference of care between an OB/GYN and a midwife. 

It's very different. You see nurses at an OB/GYN’s office and very rarely meet with the doctor. Everything is rushed since they have so many patients.

At the birth center, every appointment was with one of the midwives who would potentially deliver my baby and thus a relationship and trust was built in their care for me and my baby. It's such a safe feeling getting to know your care providers.

Also, you don't do a urine test every appointment at a midwife’s office and only do a few ultrasounds in the whole pregnancy. Our appointments consisted of acquiring vital signs for both me and the baby (hearing her heart beat via the Doppler was my favorite part), but mostly it was a nice chat about how I was feeling, my diet, exercise, sleep, work, etc. I even had a cup of tea brought to me during our meetings. This care for women by women was the most important thing to me. I never feeling rushed which was a bonus in the trust and safety in knowing your care provider. 

You took an 8-week childbirth education course. Can you talk about the benefits of a series of classes like this in preparation for a natural birth outside of the hospital?

My husband and I took Kathy Killebrew’s class. It’s a preparation course for natural birth and child care for both in hospital and out-of-hospital settings. 

Kathy covered all the stages of labor, breastfeeding and early home care. My husband started calling it “Baby University” as it was a lot of information! But knowing all the stages and gritty details of labor and birth as well as ways to relax through contractions was so helpful. I knew what my body was going to do (for the most part!) and it was empowering to allow it to do so without being afraid or wanting to control it. 

You tested positive for Group B Strep (GBS) in the pregnancy, which is typically treated in labor via IV antibiotics. While 30% of women are colonized with GBS, there's a 1-2% chance that if left untreated, a baby could become very sick from being exposed to the bacteria while coming through the birth canal. However, treatment with antibiotics come with its own host of issues. How did you receive the news that you were positive? How did you navigate all the information out there and come to a decision regarding treatment that you felt comfortable with?

When I got my test results, I was crushed. I phoned the on call midwife and cried. I'd been working so hard to have a healthy pregnancy, so this just felt like a failure. She reassured me I probably had GBS the whole pregnancy and that it’s pretty normal and common.

My husband Max and I studied the options together and ultimately decided against IV antibiotics. We read a study by Evidence Based Birth, which showed how other countries handle GBS in addition to speaking with a few of the other midwives.

In the end, we decided to use am antibiotic soap called Hibiclens. When applied to the vagina every few hours, it kills the bacteria where it counts and was much more appealing to me than an IV drip every two hours. 

Tell me about your birth experience.

I went into labor just a few hours before Christmas Eve. I had some mild early labor contractions after dinner and followed the advice from the on call midwife, Callie, to try and go back to sleep. Right around midnight I woke up just as my water broke! After that things moved very fast.

By 4 am, my contractions were super close together and very strong, so after speaking with the midwife, we decided it was time to go the birth center. When we arrived, I climbed right into the tub to relax in the warm water and have my cervix checked for dilation. I was pretty excited to be nearly 8 cm dilated! Max and I figured the baby would be born in no time!

Laboring in the tub felt great, but after a few hours things (contractions and progress) had slowed down. By this point, I was pushing so I moved to the toilet to try a new position – followed by moving to the bed and back in the tub. It felt like my baby was taking forever to come! 

Callie’s shift ended and Shayna came in. We realized I still had a tiny bit of cervix left – what the midwives call “a lip” – which was most likely getting in the way of my baby’s descent. So, in order to remedy the situation and get this show on the road, I lay on one side for three contractions without pushing and the switched to the other.

It’s hard to explain how hard that was. I was fighting every impulse to not push, as that was also when I realized pushing relieved the pain of the contraction. Thankfully, my hard work paid off and the lip went away.

But labor still dragged on. At some points I felt like I was so close and then something would stall.

All during this time, I felt I handled the pain okay. I knew going into it that it would be painful (and it was). Each contraction brought this whole body pain, but I knew it only would last a moment and then I would get a break. What got me though was how tired I was getting. Max was giving me water after every contraction and as the night wore on the midwife and nurse were getting me to eat some fruit for some energy.

I moved to the squat bar/ladder and started to make some real progress. I moved between the bed and bar for the last few hours. Finally, I got to the point where I just knew she was coming. I could see it in my midwife’s face and hear it in Max's voice. But then I saw this look of disappointment on Shayna's face – my body was stalling again! No way! I got out of bed and waddled over to the squat bar with everyone's help.

After just a few contractions it was finally time. One contraction on the birthing stool and my beautiful daughter was born. I've never worked so hard in my life! It was amazing to see her come into the world and to have Max right by my side as it happened.

You dilated quite quickly from the time your water broke, but then pushing took some time. What was going through your mind at this time? 

I was annoyed as I had this idea that she should have been born in a certain amount of time. I knew I could do it but my body seemed to be taking forever to push her out! I was starting to get so tired by the end, but I refused to give up. 

How did you stay present and positive? What kind of support was helpful?

Max really believed in me, and I did too. I think the whole birth team taking care of me is what did it. I didn't feel rushed and that allowed me to stay positive. If everyone was letting my body take its time then I knew things were okay.

Specifically, when Shayna helped direct my pushing efforts was very helpful. She put her fingers in my vagina and told me to push against them. Holy cow did that make a difference! Once I knew where to push into, my mind and efforts were much more focused. 

Did you think you were going to end up transferring? Did you want to transfer at any point? 

I didn't. In my mind as long as Baby and I were both healthy transferring was not an option for me. Later in labor the midwife or RN checked her little heart rate after every contraction so I knew we were both safe as we could hear it was at a solid rate.

I knew I could work through the pain – I just had to keep up my strength. I actually used her name as a battle cry towards the end. Ha! 

There needed to be a little resuscitation for the baby after the birth? Were you nervous?

This is funny to look back on as I was so high from the rush of endorphins after the birth that the building could have been burning down around us and I would have told you we were fine.

I saw the little mask go on her face, and heard Max's concerned voice but I just knew she was okay. It must have been a mix of mother intuition and total trust of my birth team that I didn’t feel fear or anxiety. We had been through so much together. She was also on my tummy skin-to-skin the whole time, so I could see and feel her making breathing efforts and knew she would come around. 

How did you feel a few hours after the birth going home? 

It was like waking up from a dream. I'd been pregnant for 37 weeks and now she was here – on Christmas Eve of all times! She was born at 4 pm, so by 9 pm, we were on our way home. We just crawled into bed and slept that night with Harper on my chest skin-to-skin.

We woke up the next morning and had our little Christmas traditions. While I was in early labor the day before, I made my Christmas cinnamon rolls from scratch. So Christmas morning I frosted them and we opened our presents as usual. It was a lovely quiet time to bond with our new daughter.

How do you think your experience being pregnant, giving birth and as a parent has changed the way you view yourself? The world?

I’ve been learning a lot about myself since even conceiving Harper. The pregnancy was all about being the best little vessel I could be for her: relaxing and eating a balanced diet.

Since her birth it's been learning to go with the flow and to take the little quiet spaces in my day to take care of myself. I love being a mom, it's a lot of work and there have been frustrated tears, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Knowing all of the hard work it took to bring this little girl into the world makes me feel really proud of myself. I feel strong and more connected with my body than ever before. I wish more women would consider going route of having un-medicated, out-of-hospital births. It’s not scary as some may think, and most of our bodies are made to do it!

I’m amazed at how my body has changed, what's already sprung back into shape and what I’ll keep as a souvenir of Harpers time in my womb.