#they have been chosen for their karaoke potential

[dsneybuf91]

Cyclic Motifs of Everything Everywhere All at Once

(Originally posted on August 9, 2022)

In Daniel Kwan’s and Daniel Scheinert’s science-fiction dramedy movie Everything Everywhere All at Once, a visit from married Chinese-American laundromat co-owners Evelyn (Malaysian Chinese Michelle Yeoh, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) and Waymond Wang (Chinese/Vietnamese-American Ke Huy Quan, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom) to the IRS takes an epic turn, when Evelyn finds herself suddenly chosen to prevent the multiverse from collapsing. Multi-dimensional fiction feels a dime a dozen, but the Daniels and their actors have used the concept to provide a stimulating reminder of the benefits behind breaking cycles and finding beauty and meaning in the unexpected. Viewers who can put up with the constant absurdity of Evelyn’s exploits can enjoy emotionally-engaging performances, excitingly varied fight scenes, and eclectic visuals. My look at this profitable critical darling took so long to write down – over a month has passed since the American DVD and Blu-ray release by now – partially because my most compelling thoughts contain extensive spoilers.

I've been trapped like this for so long, experiencing everything.  I was hoping you would see something I didn't, that you would convince me there was another way.

-Jobu Tupaki

Chinese New Year provides a relatable time at which to set this movie.  New Year's Eve allows for reflection upon unfulfilled goals, and setting hopes and plans on what to accomplish next.  Evelyn finds fantastical means to perform these, through technology another dimension's Evelyn developed to help people tap into skills acquired in alternate timelines.  People who use this technology must perform unconventional feats to tap into the skills, which sometimes results in comical expressions of the potential to learn from new experiences.  Some of Evelyn's feats include declaring love to an enemy, and exploring unfamiliar areas of the IRS building.  The movie's concept also delivers succinct demonstrations of Michelle Yeoh's and her co-stars' versatility, as Evelyn discovers various personas her family adopted across the multiverse.  I typically associate Yeoh with a dignified austerity, but as Evelyn gradually masters inter-dimensional peace-making, Yeoh pulls off performing both without and with such dignity.

Across all of the dimensions, prominent circles illustrate the prevalence of cycles in Evelyn's lives.  The movie begins with a round mirror reflecting Evelyn, Waymond, and their teenage daughter Joy (Stephanie Hsu, whom the Daniels previously directed on Awkwafina is Nora From Queens) happily singing karaoke, illustrating circles as a Chinese symbol of unity.  When the reflection abruptly changes to one of Evelyn struggling to complete her taxes, the contrast effectively reminds the viewer that a matriarch must prepare to tackle both leisure and stress.

While media about Asian-Americans often concern a generational conflict, this movie stands out with one spanning three generations.  Among other sources of discontent for Evelyn, her father, Gong Gong (James Hong, Flower Drum Song) disapproved of her marriage to sensitive Waymond, and Joy confounds her by entering a lesbian romance.  When Alpha Waymond connects Evelyn to the multiverse, a run-through of her life story shows Evelyn becoming distant from Gong Gong and Joy not only emotionally, but physically as well.

Appropriately, some of the alternate realities Evelyn taps into more than once include ones in which she never permanently left China.  Some of them provide reasons to feel better off, such as one in which she becomes a famous martial artist and movie star, and one in which she becomes an opera singer with a proud father.  However, sources of discontent in those realities prove the futility of achieving a perfect future.  Shortly before movie-star Evelyn and businessman Waymond discuss how their lives would've differed if they married, the viewers learn that in that timeline, Everything Everywhere All at Once ends with her failing to save the multiverse.  This juxtaposition suggests the ineffectiveness of escapism from issues, over actively finding a functional solution.

In a reality where Evelyn entered a same-sex marriage, she finds additional reasons to relate to Joy.  It receives an unsettling introduction, revealing that people have hot dogs for fingers, and that Evelyn wedded Ms. Deirdre (Jamie Lee Curtis), an adversary in her own reality.  Despite this, Evelyn eventually finds this relationship romantic in its own right, and surprisingly acquires some useful skills.  This helps depict homosexuality and heterosexuality as equally beautiful, even if the former initially seems disturbing.  The tone also comes through in how, aside from the hot dog fingers and Evelyn's family, the reality feels identical to the main one.

Several Evelyns' income and survival depend on cycles within cycles, to put a profound "spin" on the mundane.  The Evelyns who co-own laundromats monetize a monotonous ritual, in which laundry takes a tumble to come out clean.  Chinese New Year similarly provides everyone in this story with an opportunity for a fresh start.  Another Evelyn landed a job twirling a sign for pizza, making a living off of a cycle she helps control herself.  Her main counterpart incorporates this twirling into her self-defense tactics, similarly reinforcing the importance of maintaining control of life's patterns.

Tying in with the value of food to Asian cultures, circular baked goods provide surprisingly poignant symbols in Evelyn's adventures.  Among the various types of Chinese baked goods featured, the movie draws particular attention to almond cookies.  In the main reality, Waymond bakes these as a peace offering to the likes of Ms. Deirdre.  Even in a reality where Gong Gong successfully broke up Evelyn and Waymond, her karate teacher (Li Jing) philosophically incorporates almond cookies into her lessons.  Considering the teacher first met Evelyn while saving her from some thugs, the prominence of almond cookies across multiple timelines illustrates the universal need for compassion. (Notably, the uncut version of Evelyn empathizing her way through a line of opponents included her giving a cookie to someone she recognizes as a counterpart of the instructor.)

After overstimulation transforms one incarnation of Joy into the reality-warping, dimension-hopping Jobu Tupaki, the overwhelmed second-generation immigrant chooses a Western snack as her nihilistic icon.  The Everything Bagel combines the concept of expressing philosophy through treats, with consequences of Evelyn's overexerting parenting techniques, and Joy's American preference for excess.  Unlike an almond cookie, a vortex gives the Bagel a center as empty and consuming as Jobu's diminishing sense of purpose.

Perhaps inevitably, one of the last universes Evelyn taps into turns herself and Jobu into spheres.  After Evelyn suffers an intensely aggravating convergence of dimensions at the Chinese New Year's party, she and Jobu end up as rocks in a universe where life never formed.  Notably, they lack perfectly round shapes.  Initially, the rocks appear unable to do anything except sit and wax philosophy through unspoken text.  Jubilantly, during Evelyn's epiphany on how to redeem Jobu, she defies this universe's cycles by introducing independent motion.

As far as non-edible, non-electronic circles of Evelyn's main timeline go, some of the most important ones include the googly eyes Waymond applies to objects for levity.  Their color scheme inverts that of the Everything Bagel, defying the notion of placing nihilism at the center of one's philosophies.  After Evelyn realizes that combining his preachings of empathy with her knowledge of the multiverse could help rescue Joy/Jobu from surrendering to the Bagel's vortex, she symbolically applies one of the eyes to her forehead.  Meanwhile, her rock form spontaneously develops two googly eyes once it begins moving.  This both provides it with a more human appearance, and emphasizes her acquired wisdom.

Jobu warns Evelyn during the climax that peace and serenity never last in any dimension.  Accordingly, by the time the film ends, Evelyn only manages to solve problems immediately important to her.  She reconciles with her families and enemies, but the viewers never actually see the Bagel disappear.  Regardless, the performances, editing, and music of Evelyn's reconciliations ensure a glorious victory when she convinces Joy not to let nihilism consume her.  Even without showing the Bagel vanish, the movie successfully conveys the triumph of Evelyn's accomplishments as a matriarch and community member.

During Evelyn's next IRS meeting, inter-dimensional voices continue to pester her, but don't cause her to break down.   Her efforts to remain focused on her own timeline demonstrate one last time that even if discontent can't stay away forever, empathy, optimism, and the capacity to learn can help overcome misfortune.  By my standards, Everything Everywhere All at Once overall presents the most spectacular Asian-American-centric movie I've seen yet.

Plug

Violence towards Asian-Americans has reached alarming levels.  I would like my readers to donate to The AAPI Community Fund, even if I personally take no share of the funds.

This article is dedicated to Perspectives in Science Fiction teacher Mr. Mike Feely (1971-2022), who helped strengthen my insight into and analyses of this wondrous medium.

[digitalenergy001]

Blog Week 5

Reflection

This week we focused on a lot of experiencing immersive experiences ourselves and discovering what we valued in performances.

In Tuesday's class, I got feedback about my original music choice, exhilaration by Solee. Through exploration, it was shown that the music chosen was not fast-paced enough and did not have a clear enough climax. I was steered toward looking into the sub genre of dubstep music within the electronic music genre. I was fixated on picking electronic music as I felt like it would most effectively pair with creating exhilaration within the viewer. I was directed into looking at Nero and delta heavy. After listening to Guilt by Nero I really liked the crescendo of the music and thought I could strongly edit a series of videos to the music. The only downfall was the song included lyrics and although they were effective I thought the added layer of detail in the music might take away from my video work. Due to this I look into a lyric-free version of the song and found Guilt ( in the style of Nero) karaoke version by all hits gold.

In Thursday’s class, we went to the Capitol Theatre and watched all the Pharos works within the class. Although I am not using the Pharos lighting software it was still helpful to look at my peer's work and see their creative outlook on how they created an immersive experience.

Research

Academic

In a lot of my previous academic research prior to this week, I have looked into the boundary between exhilaration and fear. In Steve W Parry's research article, How should we manage fear of falling in older adults living in the community? The article goes into the helpful ways adults have been seen to overcome their fear of falling. They go to how cognitive behavioural therapy is seen to be highly effective. CBT ( cognitive behavioural therapy) aims to make patients recognise their worries, challenge them and learn strategies to cope. CBT is learning to look at stressful stimuli in a different light. With knowledge from this article, I plan to think of how I can incorporate stressful stimuli in my performance but make them seem more friendly as the video piece goes on to allude to the viewer they are not actually a treat, similar to what CBT does.

Creative Practice

How I have been approaching my work this week has included a lot of brainstorming and storyboarding. I have been listening to my chosen music Guilt ( in the style of Nero) karaoke version every time I have had the chance and visually how I want my project to look. After this, I will jot down some brief concept sketches and words of what concepts and visuals I have been thinking to include. This week has included a lot of troubleshooting and being realistic in terms of my project. I can tend to be too ambitious in creative projects and stray from a sense of was can be effective but reasonable.

Technical

Unfortunately I had to change my software from Resolume to touch designer. Without the full licensed version of Resolume, it exports with a watermark. Touch Designer can be used for non-commercial purposes if the image resolution is 1280x1280. I have fixed my compositions in after effects to be 1280 x 720 to match. I have been using this week to further progress in animating some of my visuals within after effects. I had some issues importing music and hearing it within after effects originally but after some troubleshooting within the audio hardware I was able to fix the output so I could line up my animations to the music effectively. The song I have chosen goes for 4 minutes and 4 seconds although around the 2:40 mark, there is potential for the song to be cut and with assistance in sound editing be made not abrupt and appear as an organic ending to the song. Although I aim to see if I can edit the video to finish at 4 minutes and 4 seconds as the song includes a nice secondary climax at the 3:40 mark that I would like to utilise to create further exhilaration within the audience. I have been watching a lot of tutorials from creators in terms of after-effects. The videos I have watched this week are included in the bibliography.

Progress

This week was focused on narrowing in on the concepts for my project. I was able to start physically mapping out my project within after effects and constructing a projection mapping export within touch designer. I picked my chosen music to go along with my constructed video piece Guilt ( in the style of Nero) karaoke version by all hits gold.

Bibliography

Layered logo motion design animation in After effects tutorial (2022) YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1W-fIaQR-s&ab_channel=MoveShapes (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

How to create the silhouette music video effect in premiere pro (2022) YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Umz9T7yVP7Y&ab_channel=FelixTheCreator (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

Create line path animations in After effects | tutorial shorts (2022) YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rYBq709OnwQ&ab_channel=SonduckFilm (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

Simple motion visualisation – Touchdesigner tutorial 55 (2022) YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGuquFiInqY&ab_channel=bileamtschepe(elekktronaut) (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

Make liquid lines in after effects - after effects tutorial - no plugins - liquid animation tutorial (2022) YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WrZO-iV0LwI&ab_channel=AvnishParker (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

Guilt (in the style of nero) [karaoke instrumental version] (2013) Spotify. Available at: https://open.spotify.com/track/551SLzLemY8nNoemNlywTG (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

Parry, S.W., Finch, T. and Deary, V. (2013) How should we manage fear of falling in older adults living in the community?, The BMJ. Available at: https://www.bmj.com/content/346/bmj.f2933.short (Accessed: 19 August 2023).

[thorst]

STORMLIGHT ORCHESTRA:

⠀⠀➤ Carol & Thor's Karaoke Setlist

⠀⁣

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟷 │ I love rock & roll - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟸 │ Jump - Van Halen ⁣

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟹 │ One Way Or Another - Blondie

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟺 │I Was Made For Lovin' You - KISS

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟻 │Bad Reputation - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟼 │Is This Love - Whitesnake

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟽 │Hit Me With Your Best Shot - Pat Benatar

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟾 │You Really Got Me - Van Halen

⠀⠀⠀𝟶𝟿 │The Warrior - Patty Smyth

⠀⠀⠀𝟷𝟶 │99 Luftballons - Nena

⠀⠀⠀𝟷𝟷 │Alone - Heart

⠀⠀⠀𝟷𝟸 │Paradise City - Guns 'n Roses

⠀⠀⠀𝟷𝟹 │Here Comes the Rain Again - Eurythmics

⠀⠀⠀𝟷𝟺 │Crazy on You - Heart

⠀⠀⠀𝟷𝟻 │The Best - Tina Turner

⠀⠀⠀⠀.. │Bonus Tracks

⠀.. │Only Happy When It Rains - Garbage | Sweet Dreams -

⠀.. │ Eurythmics | Just A Girl - No Doubt | Ride the Lightning -

⠀.. │ Metallica

[rk1kheadcanons]

Markus and Connor are secret dating b/c Connor doesn't wanna be out to the world yet. The Jericrew (-Connor) go drinking and Markus gets *drunk* and starts rambling about his boyf after he rebuffs an advance made by a lady at the bar super sappily, but no matter how hard the others press him, they just get "oh, his eyes are the color of warm chocolate..." answers as to who this boyf is

You would never know Markus was drunk.

He didn’t stutter or slur when he spoke, he didn’t sway or trip over his feet. He didn’t giggle goofily or speak overly loud. He was perfectly composed, as much the charismatic android sober as he was when he was intoxicated.

What he did do, however, was go on long monologues like a Shakespearian stage actor.

Which would be fine, if Markus’ favorite subject to wax poetic about wasn’t his mysterious boyfriend, whom he’d sworn not to reveal the identity of until they were ready. Which would also be fine, if that mysterious boyfriend wasn’t Connor, who was often sitting right next to him (and slowly but surely bluescreening his way into that big Windows XP wallpaper in the sky) as he sang and lathered compliment after compliment, steadily giving away clues that were so blatant that it was a miracle that no one had figured them out yet.

Markus never remembered what he’d done the next day, and whenever Connor mercilessly played back his memories, his poor lover was as embarrassed as he was apologetic. Connor could hardly begrudge him (frankly he didn’t know what sane person on this planet could ever begrudge Markus, but that was just Connor’s correct opinion). What could they even do about it? Should he demand Markus consciously control himself? It wasn’t like Connor was any better at it. Give the RK800 too many AMB’s (Adios Motherboards) and he would be on top of the nearest table and scream-singing his every professionally repressed emotion, regardless if it was a karaoke bar or not. Hence why he never imbibed more than he could handle when they were around their friends. The last thing he wanted to do was sloppily propose to Markus after a long and terrible rendition of K-Ci and JoJo.

And Connor wouldn’t dream of telling Markus to measure the contents of his drink like Connor did. Not when his breaks were so rare, and getting him to relax and let loose was like pulling teeth.

It was just in the cards that their big revelation as a couple would be in a random bar at 3AM, with Markus saying something along the lines of “my boyfriend’s name starts with a C and rhymes with Donner”, and Connor had made peace with that.

“Scarlet woman!” Markus cried, at some random bar at 3AM, surrounded by their drunken comrades. Ah, would this be the night? Connor thought, on the correct side of buzzed as he watched on from the table right next to them, a heady mix of dread and amusement running through his computer soul. “Jezebel! How d a r e you solicit my happily taken hand!”

The waitress, who looked like she regretted serving their table, let alone attempting to get the number from the happily taken hand, raised her hands in surrender. “Sorry, sorry,” she said peaceably and with the calm air of someone who dealt with drunks as a job choice, “just trying to shoot my shot, ya know?”

Markus nodded at her magnanimously, because he was a kind and forgiving man even as a drunken buffoon. “Fret not. I pardon you of this most heinous slight, for if you knew the one to own my heart, you would understand that no other could compare.”

“Sure thing dude,” she said goodnaturedly, packing up and replacing drinks around their tables expertly, and parting with a “have a good night Romeo.”

“But who can no other compare to? WHOMST??” asked North, throwing her torso onto the table and looking up at Markus pleadingly.

“We’ve ruled out Jerry #451, Claudia, Baris from accounting, and Jerry #36,” Simon rattled off. He was looking down at a napkin that he had scribbled the names of all of their potential suspects. “I’ve got it. It’s Baris.”

North rolled her eyes. “We already said it wasn’t Baris.”

“Ohhh. Right, right.” Simon nodded his head and continued to not cross off the names of the people they had decided against, as he had been doing all night.

“How about you describe them a little?” Josh put in, reasonable, and therefore slightly less wasted than everyone else. “Hair color? Height? Eyes? Something?”

“Nay, I must not speak thusly!” Markus declared, back of his hand over his forehead and everything. “For if I were to tread down that forbidden road, I would surely not be able to stop myself from breaking our sacred oath of secrecy!”

“Oh my goOOOOOOOd I hate this fucking oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaath,” North threw her head back and cried to heavens, which, considering her positon, was probably going to be hell on her neck come morning. “Come on! Break your oath! Be like Thor and wield oathbreaker goddamnit!”

“You might be thinking of Stormbreaker,” Connor added, the need to try and reason with alcoholics apparently embedded in his programming.

North narrowed her eyes at him, or rather his torso, since her chin was very resolutely still resting on the table. “If you think I’m thinking right now then you are drunker than I am.”

Connor lifted his barely touched glass to her in a toast because how dare she be lucid enough to clap back so quickly. A well deserved rebuttal fucking cheers.

“Glasses!” Josh exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “Do they wear glasses? That should narrow down some people.”

“That’s right! That’ll tell us if they’re an android or not. Androids don’t wear glasses! Our eyes are like...fucking...better and shit!”

“Unless….” Simon narrowed his eyes, pausing dramatically. “....they do.”

North gasped. Josh put his hands on either side of face, muttering; “holy fucking shit he’s right.”

Markus scoffed. “Their eyes do not hide behind paltry spectacles! His beautiful orbs, so soft and caring when his gaze lands upon my person, seeing into my very soul, are the warmest chocolate brown!”

‘Ah shit here we go,’ Connor thought, wishing not for the first time that he could just down his drink and join everyone else in blissful, idiotic cavorting. The soft, melodic piano and crooning words of All My Life playing over the speaker stayed his hand. Best not take any chances

“HE!” Simon burst out, tipping over in his chair. “He say he! Them is He!”

“Are we talkin’ Hershey’s or Dove?”

“Ghirardelli you fucking plebs!”

“Oi!” North banged her hand on the table so hard it left a handprint indented in the wood. It was one amongst many however, and not all of them left by their party. Such was the price for serving android drinks at a human bar - you either shelled out for sturdier furniture or the dents and chips became a charming aspect of your décor. “Don’t get spicy with us Sir Lancelot!”

“Apologies fair maiden,” Markus responded easily. He took her hand delicately and made a sweeping bow over it. “Alas, my passions got away from me.” He dropped her hand and whirled around, coat billowing with the movement and most assuredly by accident, placing both hands to his thirium pump. “Conjuring up the magnificent images that is the love of my life oft times sends my emotions into a tizzy! His hair; cloud like in my grasp as I run my fingers threw earthen chestnut tendrils - ”

‘Hhhhhhhhhhhhn so many adjectives Markus whyyyyyyyyyy,’ Connor wheezed internally. He didn’t bother trying to keep down his blush. Markus was nowhere near done laying on the compliments and he’d be subjecting himself to an endless loop of canceling the process. Besides, he could just blame it on the alcohol. Blame it on the a a a a a alcohol - wait no. What!? WHAT. Connor looked down at his drink and saw, to his mounting horror, that the glass was emptier than it had been a few minutes ago. Goddamn his automated rest mode cycle for transforming into fidgeting whenever he was nervous! He resolutely pushed the glass out of his immediate reach.

Nines, who was quietly sitting next to him, hunched over and taking notes on his own napkin, snapped his head up to attention when the glass brushed against his arm. His younger brother was looking from Connor to Markus, eyes narrowed suspiciously as Markus carried on. Connor didn’t like that look at all. It was always a risk inviting Nines to their little outings, the only thing Connor could bank on was Nines passing out - as his dear little bro was a notorious light weight - before his deductive skills could pierce through his drunken haze. Apparently Nines had chosen tonight of all nights, where Markus had never been more obvious about their relationship, to bloody pace himself.

If he could, Connor would be sweating bullets.

“ - a wit SO SHARP!!” Markus declared, foot now planted on his chair and shaking his fist to the ceiling as if it had insulted one of Carl’s paintings, “that neither an UNDEAD HOARD nor a POLITICIAN’S EGO could survive it’s precision strike!!”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, banger body, smarty pants, good at analyzing shit, likes animals” North listed off, holding a hand up and ticking a finger down. “Well that rules out all the Jerrys; they’re all redheads and they’re pretty aggressive about it - except for Jerry #86. Is your man-squeeze Jerry #86?”

“No no no last I heard Jerry #86 is dating Hatsume Miku’s bodyguard; Android Lucy Lawless.” said Simon.

“Tch. Lucky,” pouted North.

“Oh wow, she really kept that name huh?” Josh said, voice faint with wonder and disbelief. “That’s such a mouthful.”

“And who are you to question a Queen!?” snapped North.

“Huzzah and many blessings to the fortuitous couple!” Markus cheered, toasting a stein of frothy blue intoxication that looked as cartoonish as it did poisonous to the sky, knocking it back in several impressive gulps and slamming it back on the table. “BUT NEITHER OF THEM CAN COMPARE TO THE BEAUTY AND GRACE THAT IS MY LOVE!!” he boomed, louder and more British by the second. “WHO’S CURIOSITY AND INTELLECT A CHERISHED BOON TO I, BUT A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION TO HIS ENEMIES - !”

North slapped her hand on the table several times, the proverbial light bulb lighting up in her eyes - oh. No not proverbial. There was currently little lightbulb emojis pictured in her pupils. Yet another drunken download added to the bill. Connor was glad he’d drawn the long straw on ‘irresponsible buying duty’ tonight. No doubt there would be a lot of strange receipts to sort through in the morning. “Oh! I know I know! It’s Josh!”

So startled by this declaration/accusation, Josh jumped in his seat. “What!?”

“Brown hair, brown eyes, hot, obnoxious, smart - everything FITS!”

“...he didn’t say obnoxious,” Josh muttered, then physically shook sanity back into himself. “It can’t be me. I think I’d know if I was dating Markus!”

Simon leaned in closer towards Josh, arm on the table, determination in his mien. “But what if…” Without breaking eye contact with his friend, he smoothly cracked open his Thirium berry blast bahama mama banana punch wine cooler, and proceeded to pour it just two centimeters off from his glass, all over the table. “You don’t know.”

Josh was shook in the face of this evidence. North narrowed her eyes so hard that they were just closed at this point. “Highly suspicious.”

“No. Nooooo. No? No! Of course I’m not. Right Markus?”

Markus steepled his fingers together and cackled in a way that most people would find concerning, but Connor just found it adorable. He would saving that in his memory banks. “I’ll never tell~,” he sing songed.

“H i g h l y s u s p i c i o u s.”

“I know who it is,” Nines suddenly said, calm but with such confidence that he was easily heard amidst the ruckus. He had his elbows planted on the table, chin resting upon his entwined fingers. Steele grey eyes swept over the now quiet group, everyone waiting with baited breath.

“Grant us your wisdom ‘o soothsayer,” Markus whispered, eyes wide with anticipation and literally perched on the edge of his seat. Connor seriously measured the pros and cons of just throwing his portion of the tab on the table and yeeting himself out of the window.

“It’s Sixty.”

Immediately the room erupted into scoffs and hisses of disbelief. North gave him a thumbs down and cupped her hand to her mouth, letting a long, “Booooo!”

“Why are you booing me I’m right!”

“BoooOOooOOOOOoooooo!” Markus, Josh and Simon joined in.

Connor blinked, and suddenly felt all of his concerns about Nines’ being the lynch pin in solving this mystery evaporate. If Markus transformed into a C grade Shakespeare impersonator when drunk, and Connor subconsciously wanted to be recruited by America’s Got Talent, then Nines became a consummate dumbass.

“That’s it!” North exploded. “Ten dollars says it’s Jerry #92! I caught him in a wig once!” She stood up, her chair sliding back from the force, and slammed a note on the table.

Simon also stood up with equal intensity. “Twenty says it’s Josh!” He reached into his pocket and slammed its contents onto the table. When he removed his hand six lego pieces, a My Little Pony leg, and two actual diamonds were revealed. Connor hoped dearly that the bartender cut Simon off soon.

“It’s not me!” Josh said exasperated. He paused, then pointedly pulled out some money and threw it in the pot as well. “I put forty on Brenden.”

“Bull! Shit!” North declared. “Fitness guru Brenden!? No way!”

“He fits the criteria.”

“I doubt ‘How To Tell If An Android Has Welded on Parts from China vs Russia in their Selfies’ videos on his YouTube channel is the kind analysis Markus was talking about.”

“You don’t know that! He didn’t specify...”

As the two continued to argue, with Simon chiming in with some non sequitur, and Nines tutting about these ‘ignorant fools and their blindness to the evidence presented’, Connor looked over to Markus. He was quiet. He had his elbow perched precariously on the edge of the table, his cheek resting on his fist, a small hat (that was not there literally two minutes ago) was on his head, folded from one of the bar napkins.

And he was looking at Connor as if he hung the moon and stars.

‘How could the world not already know,’ Connor thought, soft and warm inside, happy merely to be in his line of sight, ‘When he looks at me like that?’

Connor picked up his glass and lifted it. “One hundred dollars on Sixty.”

Chaos erupted. Nines threw his arms up and hooted like he’d won the super bowl. Josh tried to explain to him how that was mathematically impossible. North shook her head and warned him that he would live on the streets with an answer like that. Simon pulled out a Yu-Gi-Oh! Card and said he would give him this Charizard if he agreed with him that Josh was Markus’ secret boyfriend. Connor withheld himself from trying to convince drunk people that this was not how betting worked.

Maybe Connor shouldn’t worry so much about their relationship being discovered after all. At this rate, no one would know about he and Markus being together until the wedding invites.

[shintorikhazumi]

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

A/N: I might do a part 2 to this, maybe. Also, Sorry to the one who requested something else first. Still looking for a trope to match your description :’<, but I will get to it!! Please do submit um, specific tropes. That will also make it kinda easier :)). Thank you!

Sorry if this isn’t quite what you had in mind? I had fun though. Will try to stick closer to the theme next time ;-;. Really need to practice. This feels more like… unintended? Marriage? Then Accidental? Yep. I might just need to redo this prompt someday huehuehue. I’ve been burnt out of good ideas lately so. This is ;-; sorry. Realized too late, and couldn’t retract, rip.

This is not a short, it seems. I have failed. Both the short, and the prompt. I’m sorry. ;-;

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Trope 2: Accidental Marriage- From: No Please

“This… was not quite what I meant before when I said I needed a partner who could stand alongside me on stage forever.” Claudine muttered, still shocked as she played with the ring on her finger, beholding it with some sort of awe, and slight awkwardness.

“Is that so?” The question was followed by a thoughtful hum. “This was exactly what I had in mind, though.” Maya smiled flirtatiously across the table, act perfect as always as she pretended Claudine’s words and the migraine she currently sported did not hurt her as much as they actually did.

“Hmmm.” Claudine simply continued to scrutinize the jewelry that now adorned her finger, not sparing Maya a glance.

This made the latter deflate, confidence shrinking by the minute. Claudine… did she really dislike the situation all that much?

Maybe Maya should find this sudden, forced(?) romantic engagement weird as well. After all,

They were only best friends.

And best friends didn’t just wake up side-by-side, married, out of the blue.

-As much as Maya loved the mere idea of it.

The events of yesternight were surprisingly vivid and fresh in her mind; Claudine’s as well. This only served to feed the uncomfortable atmosphere and embarrassment between them as they tried to wrap their heads around the thought of them actually, legitimately, officially being married.

How had it even come to that point?

Well…

It all started with Maya’s celebratory party after a successful nation-wide tour for her new show. Claudine had come to watch the top star in all her glory on the closing night, and had gotten herself invited along with the cast afterwards while the pair had been exchanging pleasantries and the usual congratulations. Claudine had been pulled along so naturally, like she was meant to be with the group, and it wasn’t even on Maya’s request.

Maya was ever in awe of her former partner’s charisma, drawing her own cast to the French actress, as if she were their companion these past few months of dedicated rehearsals and shows.

She was happy, and just the slightest bit jealous. Of Claudine or her cast? Maya didn’t really know.

Another thing she did not know was that everyone knew something. That there was something different, different about Maya and Claudine, leading to this turn of events.

After months of dealing with a stoic Maya with minimal genuine emotions slipping by, they’d known in a heartbeat when things changed. Changed when Saijou Claudine, her best friend, was around. They’d have to be blind to not notice how Tendou Maya was always much more enthusiastic in practice whenever Claudine would drop by. Though of course, she was always perfect during any performance, whether in practice or the final thing.

But the troupe knew it was different. It just was. As unexplainable as it was.

There would be weeks when Claudine would never show up, and sometimes it felt like practice was a little tense. Maya was like a deprived pup, waiting on her owner, eyes darting to the door at the end of the practice hall any chance she’d get. She thought she was being discreet, but no. No, she was not.

By no means did her distraction ever weigh anyone down. Maya would die before letting something as trivial as feelings get to her. But… it was clear when her heart was in a place separate from the stage. It never did leave, but it occasionally wandered off, taking its steps farther and farther to where Claudine was as time went by.

Moments like those, the cast had learned to deal with. With how often Claudine came over, they’d all gotten to know each other enough to exchange numbers, and it was simply an easy matter of praying the woman wasn’t too busy for a quick video call, the troupe members shoving a smiling Claudine on their phone screen, the blonde tutting Maya and telling her to move her ass along and stop troubling the rest of the group.

They could just see the light beaming off of Maya even as she was being scolded; so happy, so pleased.

‘Best friends’ their ass.

She’d make a haughty, faux-prideful remark and Claudine would call her out on it, be her usual irritated self with the occasional “mechante va!” . Maya would laugh airily at her, before calming down and mumbling softly how she missed Claudine, how she wished she could pay her a visit- selfish as it sounded. Claudine would then apologize for being so busy, tell Maya that her schedule was hectic at the moment, but that she’d try to swing by one way or another soon. The cast would pretend they didn’t hear the longing in the pair’s tones over the phone, how Maya’s usually perfect posture would slip, frame slouching in poorly-hidden sorrow.

Being apart clearly tore at her. But what could anyone do? Maya had chosen the world of Takarazuka, and Claudine went to walk on broadway. It was surprising enough that they were able to still visit one another as often as they did, Maya surely having been on Claudine’s sets more than once, always welcome, and ever well-known.

They were inseparable, not only physically, but in public image and name as well.

And so with all this knowledge, it was only the obvious choice that Claudine would be invited as an honorary guest to the afterparty, right? No problems with that, right?

….right. Maybe.

Everything had been going swell at first. All was the norm when it came to these somewhat generic parties. There were the usual speeches, acknowledgements, some challenges, karaoke and games. Yes, games. And one game just so happened to swerve them completely off of the safe course.

Maya had been observing Claudine the whole night from where she was seated at the head of the table with important producers and guests. She tried her utmost to hide the annoyance at being interviewed after a long show, unable to enjoy the ambience of the festivities. Coupled with that were the people attempting to get with her, or at least suck up to her good graces. Albeit, she should be used to all this, with Claudine so near, yet so out of reach, it only served to tick her off each second that went by with these snakes of men and women coiling about her, choking her with their disingenuous praises.They were as acid in her ears, burning hot and unwelcomely painful.

The horrid collective concentration of their too-strong “fancy” perfumes with scents all jumbled and odd, along with all the alcohol they made her down (she willingly did so, if only to distract herself from all of them) made bile tickle the bottom of her throat, humiliation threatening to make its appearance.

‘Ah, how annoying.’

She’d much rather be next to one gorgeous French woman, standing alongside all her underrated castmates- these moneybags never gave their potentials a second glance, the idiots. She’d much prefer to be dancing the night away to the oddest of tunes, but enjoying each moment all the same with the rest of her new family, alongside one who had always been her family. And her home. And-... she would stop herself right there.

She hadn’t the right to claim Claudine like that. Not while she remained cowardly, concealing her affections each and every day. She shouldn’t. Not until she made the effort to be able to.

Maya sighed, downing another glass of beer. She was beginning to feel a migraine coming on. She needed a different distraction. One that hopefully did not involve her getting more drunk than she already was.

Who better a distraction than Saijou Claudine then? Beautiful, a sight for sore eyes, voice a pleasing timbre to the ears, aura radiant and warm. Maya sighed, feeling her stress melt away instantly the moment she’d placed her focus on her cherished partner. Now, if only she could call for her attention to save her, or maybe go to her and spend the rest of the night with- wait. Wait a second.

While observing Claudine intently, Maya had realized something. Maya, with all her competitive spirit, had taken note of the fact that Claudine had drunk one glass of alcohol more than Maya. How she knew this? Besides the number of empty glasses laid before the woman on a table as the troupe had currently advanced into a drinking competition, Maya had subconsciously been taking note of each time Claudine called for another drink when Maya managed to spare her a glance. And she always seemed to be taking in more and more!

Therefore, by her very sober mind’s standards, did this not mean that Claudine was trying- and actually being- superior? With the higher tolerance and capacity? Claudine was winning something! And that certainly wouldn’t do! For Maya was always the winner.

Yes! Maya now had the perfect reason to get out of this unwanted bind! She had to defend her honor! She had to maintain her winning streak! She had to best Claudine as she always did in any competition they had! It was tradition; everyone knew of their rivalry since the beginning of time. This was a valid excuse!

With not so much as a word of farewell to the blabbering buffoons she’d be leaving behind, Maya made her exit, stumbling momentarily- whoops, was that supposed to happen?- as she moved out of her seat towards where Claudine currently stood. She had left the drinking game she’d been a part of moments prior, now occupied in talking with one of the show’s directors who wasn’t the slightest bit interested in the affairs that Maya had been drowning in, it seemed. And he should have been the one to be receiving all these… those people. He made Maya his scapegoat, the damned old man.

“Tch.”

She observed for a moment as they continued chatting, one moment looking serious, then the next, laughing as if they were old time friends. Was their conversation of great significance at the moment? Maybe. Maybe Maya shouldn’t cut in. But Claudine was animatedly communicating with him, gestures and smiles and all, and something stirred within her at the thought of her best friend so close to this man. Claudine looked like she was having fun. Too much fun. So Maya thought it would be best to interrupt them. Right now.

“Ma Claudine!” She hiccuped, covering her mouth in surprise, and giggling a little ‘sorry’, very amused by the sound that had slipped from her own lips.

“Hmm?” The woman turned around before her eyes widened, moving forward just in time to catch Maya in her arms as she slumped forward. “Maya?! What are-” Her scent… though still as pleasant as always, was mixed with something Claudine didn’t quite fancy as much.

“Claudine? Oh! Claudine! Greetings, my lovely sta-”

Maya had leaned in closer to do who knows what, but Claudine was not having it. Not right now. She pushed her face away, still holding the girl up by the waist. “Maya! You’re drunk! So drunk!” She screeched, already requesting for a glass of water that the director went and fetched from a passing waiter, a glass of relief that Maya adamantly rejected, stomping her foot down with a little whine.

“No! Am not!” She slurred, giggling some more. “But maybe you are!” She poked at Claudine’s chest. “And so you won’t accept my challenge!”

“Challenge?” Claudine shook her head, not wanting to be distracted from the matter at hand. The matter in her hands being an incredibly wasted Maya. “Maya, I think you’ve had a little too much to-”

“You’ve had too much to drink? Haha, I thought so. You’re looking a little red, my dear.” Maya drawled, dragging a manicured nail along Claudine’s cheek, lightly scratching.

“No,” Claudine sighed. “I am very much sober, thank you.” She shook her head fondly. “Come on now, be a good girl for me and take this water.” She tipped the glass the director had passed her, getting Maya to drink somehow.

“I’d say thank you-” Maya exclaimed, pointing a finger into the air, still slumped against Claudine. “But times like these, I can’t be grateful to the enemy. Saijou Claudine!” She patted the said woman’s cheek, maybe a little too hard. It sounded like it would leave a mark.

“Maybe you need more water.” Claudine grit her teeth, very willing to douse Maya with a pitcher with the way she was acting at the moment.

“I challenge you-”

“Are you not listening?!”

“To a drinking contest!”

“I just told you you’ve had enough-”

“Scared?”

“Maya, if you drink any more, you’ll-”

“You’ll lose to me.” Maya grinned, evil and conniving. “Wouldn’t want that now would we? Haven’t won lately, dear Claudine.” Maya chuckled, lips leaning close to a now shaking Claudine, irritation and fury building. Maya just had to add the spark to the ready fuel. “- or at all.”

“You…. you… mechante va! ” Claudine grabbed Maya by the wrist, taking her to the drinking table, seating her opposite of herself. “I’ll make sure you eat your words. Or well… drink them bitterly. More bitter than any alcohol or your tears. Be prepared, Tendou Maya!”

“Always am, Saijou Claudine. ”

//-//-//-//-//

Ten mugs in and Maya was toeing the edge of consciousness. Or lack of it. Her mind was floaty, hazy, dull.

Still, she could not lose. Not to anyone. Especially not to Claudine. She had to always stay on her toes, and keep Claudine’s eyes on her… she’d also like it if they met her own and they’d stare into one another’s colored gems, the sunset’s rays hitting Claudine so perfectly as they had dinner by the beach, the sound of waves beating against the coast as Maya got down on one knee and- that was not important right now.

Maya had to get through one more drink. She shook irrelevant thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus. Focus.

Focus on… Claudine and her pretty pink eyes, almost identical to the flush of her face, lips parted slightly as she breathed gently over the chilled glass, droplets condensing on the outside and rolling down, and gently falling onto the waxed wood of the table.

‘ Ah… you’re just so… ‘

“Beautiful.”

“What was… that?” Claudine got out, tolerance slipping after so many rounds of drinking, including the ones from her previous match up.

“If I win this… there’s a reward, right?” Maya changed the subject, hoping Claudine was drunk enough to truly not have registered her little slip up. Now was not the time for her desires to be made known. She took in a deep breath of air while their drinks were being refilled. “There is. Right?” Violets pinned Claudine in place, daring her to say no.

“Mmph.” Claudine nodded sloppily, reaching for the full glass, bringing it closer and staring into liquid death. This little contest might just be going too far. Claudine still had work the next day. She knew this. Maya knew this too. Claudine knew that Maya knew this. And yet, here they were, probably way past midnight and into the early morning, drowned in intoxication and pride. And yet, “Whatever you want.”

Maya had never been so irresponsible in her life, to get this inebriated. She knew this was a first for Claudine as well. They were usually so careful and calculated, and just… not this pair of reckless drunkards, consuming glass after glass, staring into each other’s souls, no one willing to back down.

“Whatever… I w-want… you sh-say…” Maya drawled, tapping a finger against her cheek, looking to be in thought.

“Obvious-ugh-... obviously… within my power to give.” Claudine laid her head back against her seat, breathing heavily through her nose and huffing out strongly, hoping she wouldn’t just spill her guts right then and there.

She was going to fucking win this.

“And if you won? Whaateveeerr could Claudine Saijou even need, or want in this world?” Maya giggled, taunting. “I’ll give it to you. All of it. Even if it were to be the moon that you wanted, or a star.”

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not as unrealistic as you.” Claudine waved.

The twentieth glass glared at them through the table.

Maya could barely manage to read Claudine’s body language, but she knew the girl was at her limit. Well, she was too. Her beautiful best friend remained staring into the cup.

“Giving up?”

Claudine shot her a glare, one that sent electricity coursing all throughout Maya’s entire being. She loved it. She loved it so much. This feeling, that gaze, that Claudine. She loved her.

And all Maya wanted to do was be able to tell her without fearing rejection. Why she ever did was stupid. She knew Claudine, and Claudine knew her. They knew each other’s minds, almost as if they shared them. She knew Claudine’s kind and gentle heart. She would feel her affections, sweetness, and genuine thoughts in every action.

So why was she so hesitant?

Why did she still think that Claudine might not return her feelings?

Maybe it was because she knew she could be too egotistical and assuming; assuming that everyone loved her, and always would. Because they just did.

But Claudine wasn’t everyone.

Claudine didn’t fawn over her every gesture, or plaster her posters along her wall, or cry out for autographs, or send her billions of gifts and mails and extravagant whatevers.

Claudine just stayed by her side. Even after seeing how weak Maya truly was.

Even now, in her insecure, lowly, shameful state.

Claudine loved her.

Maybe.

Maya wasn’t brave enough to confirm that sober, so maybe this little contest reaped good benefits for her after all.

She had a chance if she won. Yes. She’d use the reward to request Claudine to go out on a date with her, then they’d go to this quaint little cafe, just like the ones Claudine loved in back in France, and Maya would get her a dress in a shop, and take her on a boat ride and-

“Maya.”

“Do you like the swan boats, or the wooden ones?”

“...huh?”

“O-oh.” Snapping out of her reverie, Maya asked Claudine to repeat her words, apologizing for being absent-minded.

“Iiit’s… it’s alright.” Claudine blinked, brow raised in question, before shaking her head in dismissal. “Anywaaay,” she sighed. “I… said I’ll sh-stop. Tch. I give in. You win.”

Claudine sounded a lot less drunk then Maya, but maybe the glass of water in her hand, as well as the lack of people around them explained that Maya had been out of it for a while. Really, Maya was so far gone from the world that she hadn’t noticed most of her troupe and guests had already headed on home. Even the bartender who had been serving them up to this point was already wiping down the far ends of the counter, preparing to close up.

She would have been concerned about all that, if not for one little detail...

“Araaaa~Ara, Shaijou-shaannn~” She grinned. “Admitting de-*hic*-feat is so unlike y- ack”

Claudine retracted the hand that had just chopped Maya on the head. “Quiet. Drink your water and let’s go home.”

“Eeehhh...”

Claudine sighed. She barely had enough of a mind to be thinking straight right now. She really should have stopped this stupid little thing sooner. She was lucky enough to notice that Maya had very much passed out seated, and she knew she was on the brink of losing her rationality as well. So she just wanted them both to get home in one piece before she lost all semblance of controlled thought. They needed to be home safe. Home separately, not together of course, not that they lived together. Not that Claudine minded , but… oh God. She was really getting there.

“You haven’t forgoootteeen about my… -eugh- ahh… reward though? Have you?” Maya managed, wiping the drool from her cheek as she asked for another glass of water.

“I’m starting... to think you’ll be the one t-to forget it very soon.” Claudine sighed, feeling her eyes begin to droop, rubbing her face with her palms. “Buuut... whatever.  Get it over with. What ish-is it that you want, insufferable woman?” She still tried to maintain her coherent speech, shamed enough for losing their little bet.

Through her exasperated tone, Maya still heard fondness and sprinkles of mirth, Claudine smiling at her gently, even if her brows were furrowed. Ever the good sport. Maya loved her like this too.

“Sooo? Hurry up? We don’t... have all the time in the world here?

Right. Maya’s reward. A response.

Drinking more of her water, she prepared her tongue to speak the necessary words.

‘I want to date you. I want to go out with you. Please go out with me. Please be my girlfriend, please be mine.’

“Maya?” Claudine was beginning to get worried as Maya just stared at her blankly.

‘I love you.’

“Oi. Tendou Maya!”

‘You’re beautiful, inspiring and amazing.’

“Maya? Ma Maya?”

‘I love you. I want to be with you. For a long long time. Please go out with me. Say it Maya. God damn, SAY IT!’

“Tendou Maya!” Claudine shook her by the shoulders, very concerned now by the lack of response, that concern quickly turned into surprised confusion as Maya blurted out her request.

“How about your hand in marriage?”

“...”

‘ What did she just…’

Claudine was in too much shock, too drunk to comprehend what the hell Maya had just asked. So just as stupidly, she replied,

“Sure whatever.”

Maya felt herself slightly sober up suddenly. Wait… didn’t she just say… and Claudine said... “Is… Is that…. Are you shue-su… sure?? Are you-”

Claudine sighed, headache coming on quick. She hoped she had aspirin in her bag. Or car. Or- ah gosh dang it, she wasn’t in the safest state to drive. “Go on ahead, you idiot.”

“But…” Maya tried to reach out for Claudine, still fairly surprised. “What about yoouur… feehlinshh-whoops.” She had stumbled forward again, Claudine catching her the same way she did earlier that night.

Just a lot less sober.

Claudine sighed, taking a sip from her water glass on the counter, hoping to keep her mind for moments longer. Downing one big gulp, she decided maybe it wasn’t so bad to be honest from time to time. Maya was a lot less sharp- scratch that. She was completely dense when it came to Claudine, it seemed. Or maybe she was pretending not to know of the blonde’s feelings for her. Whichever it was, Claudine had no better chance to tell Maya something she’d otherwise never allow the light of day to see.

The truth of her feelings. It was fine. Nothing would be amiss after this, even if Maya understood it now. Tomorrow would be a normal day. So Claudine just needed to tell her honestly, and wholeheartedly, try to make these feelings known tonight. Not that Maya would remember this in the morning. Not that Claudine wanted her to.

This water tasted funny.

But Claudine needed to confess first.

“Don’t you know I’ve…”

‘Huh? What is this… why is everything suddenly so hazy and…’

“likaefgfin you fer so”

“Whaaat was thaaat?” Maya replied a little too loud for Claudine’s eardrums to take.

She barely registered the bartender cursing under his breath, apologizing for leaving that drink on the counter fairly close to Claudine’s water. It was supposed to be his. A strong drink for him to unwind with.

“Ah, Fuck it.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I have to admit, as weird as it feels, I’m impressed.” Claudine whistled, still looking at the metal band wrapped about her finger, fitting perfectly, design simple, yet intricate- and how did that even work. A beautiful purple sapphire rested at the apex of its curve. Claudine admired it carefully. “I really am impressed. How you managed to arrange all this, drunk. Rings and all, even marriage papers.”

Claudine sorted through her memories of the day hours prior to their current afternoon meal time on Claudine’s apartment balcony, admiring the sunset that was closing in. Fragments of images of them walking up to an empty church with Maya shaking down a priest to marry them haunted her recall.

Claudine wasn't all that religious, but Dear Lord, forgive them both.

Claudine felt the intensity of second-hand embarrassment wash over her. Really. What had they been doing at six a.m.?

Right. They had been busy trying to get married.

They even sat in front of the supreme court, waiting for it to open come eight-thirty in the morning. How Maya convinced people there to get them to do the procedures that fast was a mystery in and of itself, but in barely two hours, they were walking onto the street, hand-in-hand, somehow still barely conscious and far from sober enough, with the sun blaring in their eyes, sleep-deprived, and now officially married.

“I still can’t believe your crazy amounts of luck, to have come across a travelling trader. And these rings…” Claudine stroked them gently. “Exotic and from a different country, huh…” She murmured. “Hope they aren’t fake.”

Maya choked on the tea she had been sipping, tongue burnt suddenly. “I-I’ll have you know I have a good eye for these kinds of things.”

Claudine merely hummed again, stirring Maya’s anxiousness up even worse. Maya thumbed the onyx on her own wedding ring, biting her lip nervously, a question on the tip of her tongue escaping after being held back since they’d regained consciousness.

“Do you mind it? Being married to me?” She whispered, hopefully loud enough for Claudine to hear. Or not in case she had an unfavorable answer for Maya that she didn’t know if she wanted to hear. “Does it bother you?”

Claudine’s eyes lifted up, a sparkle in them, and a few shadows swirling about. Maya read it as doubt, but with a conviction. Claudine had something planned. What it was waslost on Maya, but clearly she was about to say something important-

“I mean, I love you. So I hardly mind this arrangement, out of order as it is.” Claudine laughed. “And I’m fairly sure you feel the same way, considering you were the one to propose this. Quite literally propose. So,” She tried her best to offer a reassuring smile, finally looking Maya’s way to meet her eyes and tell her what they both thought about this- “Maya?”

The sight that greeted her was a flabbergasted Tendou Maya, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I… you… I- you- me, l-l”

Claudine blinked, taking Maya’s image all in. Before she broke,

“...pfft- Ahahahaha, you should see your face, Tendou Maya! You look like you can’t believe what I just said!”

“I… I-”

“If you say you actually can’t believe it, I’ll be incredibly heartbroken, you know?” Claudine wiped tears from her eyes; she propped her arm on the table, chin resting on an open palm. “I’d cry a river.” She giggled, but they both knew there was a truth to her words.

Maya was still at a loss. And Claudine was only teasing her more and more. It was frustrating that Maya couldn’t even manage a word out, she couldn’t even tease her back to regain the upper hand-

Wait… didn’t this mean…

“Oh my god.”

“Hmm?” Claudine cocked a brow. “Are you praying or something?”

“You’ve won.”

“Eh?”

“You’ve actually won.”

“Won? Won what, exactly?” Clearly, this victory wasn’t registering in Claudine’s mind, as she still gazed upon Maya tenderly, a soft blush on her face as she lovingly made fun of the girl. Her smile was of a maiden in love, happy and satisfied, and Maya…

“Or am I the one whose won?” A winner to be married to the most wonderful person in the world- unintentional as it was. Maya knew she’d do it all over again. Intentionally, this time.

“If you’re talking about winning me over, then isn’t it a little too late to realize it now, Tendou Maya?” She chuckled, taking a sip of her tea.

Maya blinked. “Maybe.”

“Eh? Not that?”

“But maybe you can take that as your first victory.” Maya’s usual flirtatious smile had returned, but there was a sincerity to it that made Claudine’s heart flutter in her chest, Maya’s eyes so warm adding to the butterflies within her.

“A-and what… what “reward” do I gain from all of this?” She stuttered, suddenly unable to keep her eyes locked with Maya’s.

“My, what a silly question, Ma Claudine.” Maya reached a hand over, taking Claudine’s ringed one in her own. “For haven’t you already won me?”

“...you really are infuriating.”

“Infuriatingly charming?”

“I should not be as calm and accepting as I am in-and-of this situation. I just got proposed to and married in the span of so few hours.” Claudine shook her head, almost in disbelief. Almost. There were too many things grounding her in this reality, proving to her that she indeed was bonded to Maya in sickness and in health.

“That wasn’t a no, and don’t change the subject like that.” Maya laughed, standing up from her seat and walking around the table, standing behind Claudine for a while, unsure if she should proceed with her actions.

“Quit being weird and standing behind me like a stalker. Just hug me if that’s what you were planning on doing. You already did it before all this, what’s stopping you now?”

“Th-things are different this time, clearly I’d be a little nervous!.”

“Wuss.” Claudine teased, but her heart was beating way too loudly in her chest.

“Ever the sharp tongue.” Maya sighed fondly, wrapping her arms around Claudine from behind, kissing her on the temple.

“You like it.”

“I do, Mrs. Tendou.”

“Hmm? Are you still drunk? You got a little confused there, Tendou Maya.” Claudine chuckled, a hand reaching for Maya’s left and kissing the back of it, before kissing the ring.

“Not at all? Are you forgetting something? Tendou Claudine?”

“Ten- ah…” Claudine’s face burst into flames, the realization finally sinking in. That she was actually married to the person she loved for so long. So unconventionally too. She would have been consumed by these emotions, but then again, there was something wrong about that statement that stirred up her competitive nature. “Why do I take your name?”

“Well, obviously, I-”

“Saijou Maya.”

Both their brows twitched.

“Yes, that just…”

“Doesn’t sound quite right.”

“Tendou Claudine does not work for me either.” Claudine huffed.

“Alright, alright.” Maya laughed. “Mrs. Saijou, would that work for you?”

Claudine turned to give her a bright smile, actually liking how that sounded. “Yes, it would, Mrs. Tendou.”

Staring into one another’s eyes, they felt that familiar magnetic pull they always seemed to have between them, drawing them ever closer. They had always tried to fight against it before, afraid of what the next moment would bring, but now… there was none of that fear. Only reassurance and love.

“May I kiss you, Saijou Claudine?” Maya whispered, softly against Claudine’s lips that were now barely touching her own, breaths mingling and warm.

“You’ve already married me. So why not?”

Soft and teasing, chasing and embracing, their first kiss was all sorts of wonder, and colorful in every way. Their first kiss, and it had happened after they had gotten married.

It truly was out of order, the way they did things. Odd and different, just as everyday was when they were together. Never dull, never getting old. Always something new and changing. Never ordinary. But really, when were they ever the ordinary pair, Maya and Claudine?

Pulling away, Maya laughed. Laughed so hard tears spilled from her eyes until her laughter turned to chuckles, and into sobs, all of joy.

“I love you.”

Claudine felt herself tear up as well, getting up from her seat to hug Maya in full, both of them holding onto one another, neither willing to let go. Whispered reassurances and small kisses brought them down from their emotional high, calming them both as they swayed about in a slow dance on the terrace. They shared words, not really meaning anything at the moment. A few jokes, a few feelings, a little love.

It truly was a wonder how perfect everything fit, and felt. Like it was all natural, the pair so easily getting used to this new lifestyle as sudden as it was.

The stars shone overhead as night fell upon the dancers, the cool breeze wrapping them in its refreshing embrace. Nature provided them their music to a well-practiced dance that only they knew, and Maya had never felt more content in a moment than now. Truly, it was a perfect end to their perfect wedding day. But something seemed to be missing...

“Honeymoon?”

“...”

“Not here, obviously. Bahamas?”

“...”

“Claudine?”

Face heated and hidden in Maya’s neck, Claudine mumbled, “You truly have no shame…” She groaned, but added, “...Only if you’re paying.”.

Maybe some things needed the normal getting used to, after all.

Notes:

A/N: Might make a part 2 if I feel like it. This one was fun! ~Shintori Khazumi

[fy-enhypen]

“I don’t want to define music in one word” - Heeseung

HEESEUNG was comfortable with handling a basketball. Most of the time the ball went in, just as it was supposed to. Once, when he missed and the ball bounced off the rim, HEESEUNG kept shooting over and over until it went in. At last, two points. Shooting over and over and hitting the wall until he succeeds? Well, HEESEUNG’s attitude toward the stage is the same. On I-LAND, your older brother said that he’s proud of you now, thinking back to how you used to be this average cute but a little immature kid who liked playing games with friends and didn’t like to study.

HEESEUNG: That time he was talking about, that was when I was really immature. I’m not exaggerating when I say that everything’s changed. This might be a bit off-topic, but I have this one good old friend who I would hang out with and goof around with all the time. It was all really childish, but I’m way more mature now. (laughs) But I do think I should keep growing up more than I am now.

I saw that, when you were doing the group photoshoot, the staff asked you to move to NI-KI’s side, and you asked him first if that was okay before moving.

HEESEUNG: Yes, I did say that. It happened so quickly, I’m surprised you caught it. (laughs)

You didn’t hesitate to help other contestants with their dancing on I-LAND even though you were competing against one another. SUNOO said you’re an “angel.” (laughs)

HEESEUNG: I could try and take all the credit for that, but that’s not really how it was. (laughs) I think that was possible because I-LAND had more challenges emphasizing teamwork than other survival shows. But that aside, I still wanted to help them. When I first became a Big Hit trainee, I practiced really hard for six months and became one of the better performers among the new recruits. I guess it’s probably because I had a lot of opportunities to be the leader from that time on.

Did you have much experience singing or dancing before you became a trainee?

HEESEUNG: I’m still not that good at dancing, but I was absolutely hopeless at the beginning. (laughs) I was really, really bad. It was so bad that my friends would make fun of me for not being able to do even basic moves. They’d say, “Seriously, how did you ever get casted?” But Big Hit’s training regimen is really good. (laughs and stretches arms out diagonally) This is called “arm stretching.” It’s a basic move. This is all I did for a year. And then more than a year of following the rhythm. I focused on basic, repetitive moves like that, then I took baby steps with a dance foundations class, and then with endless practice I finally got a lot better.

You can give hope to hopeless dancers. (laughs) I know that you were always very interested in singing.

HEESEUNG: I dreamed of becoming a singer since I was six, but I totally lacked confidence. Singers need to be able to sing in front of people without feeling nervous, but the most I could do until high school was sing with two or three really close friends at a karaoke. And then my dad suggested I take the entrance exam for an art high school, but I was too nervous during the test to sing anything. I was about to head home thinking I’d better study or choose a different career path when suddenly a casting agent spotted me. I was really lucky.

HEESEUNG: I was heavily influenced by YEONJUN from TOMORROW X TOGETHER when I came to Big Hit. Up until then, I had a sense of pride. I thought, well, I’m pretty good at singing, right? But after I saw YEONJUN, I realized I was totally fooling myself. (laughs) I felt like YEONJUN is the kid who gets perfect in every subject and I’m the one who gets, about 80 in one class and goes around bragging about it. So I thought there’s no room for feeling “not confident or some other nonsense like that” (laughs) I need to really up my game if I want to be a singer. From then on, I tried to really show off everything I’ve got on stage, which is different from how I used to be.

In the “October 2020 by ENHYPEN” video, you set a goal to practice vocals for one and a half to two hours every day. Even with your busy schedule, you’ve been close to 70~80% successful with that goal.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) It’s easy to achieve your goals when it’s something you like to do. I usually put my all into things I like, but I don’t have much motivation to do things I’m not into. I think that’s a strength and also a weakness. To use studying as an example: I lost interest in studying when I was in middle school, so I didn’t put much effort into most subjects, but I liked English because I liked to listen to pop songs. There was a foreign language high school near me that accepted students only based on their English grades and mine were good enough to get in.

All your practice really shows on your debut album, BORDER: DAY ONE. I was impressed by how you expressed each song differently.

HEESEUNG: The lead single, “Given-Taken,” is about facing a new world, and ENHYPEN just debuted as a team, so I wanted to convey a passionate start of a race. You could say it’s mellow since it opens with a harp, but I used all my energy to emphasize the tone. In “Let Me In (20 CUBE),” there’s the lyrics: “Can you open your window / Been looking everywhere for my Nemo.” It would sound kind of weird if I sang, “Open up!” forcefully like that.(laughs) So I recorded my vocals in a way that best conveys the meaning and doesn’t break the mood.

It looks like you have specific ideas about the performances and your music. On I-LAND you recorded the “-note” video diary, and you reflected on various aspects of your performance. It was very impressive the way you could go back and analyze it like that.

HEESEUNG: If you debut, you become a professional. I don’t look like a pro in my performances yet, but I think you become more professional by making deliberate efforts. I think I need to be able to express myself inside and out, so I’m trying to do all different kinds of training.

You mentioned several times that you want to write your own songs this year. Have you written any?

HEESEUNG: When I was in sixth grade, I took a music composition class using a sequencer program my dad recommended, called Cakewalk. I started to write songs again after I became a trainee. There’s a song I worked on until I got into I-LAND, and also some songs I wrote and recorded the lyrics over some existing beats. But we’ve been so busy preparing for the debut. I really regret that I haven’t been able to show off my work. Anyway, I’m going to keep trying to write songs for ENGENE whenever I get time. I just hope they’ll be patient with me.

You said “Merry and the Witch’s Flower” by Yerin Baek is your favorite song. What kind of songs do you usually listen to?

HEESEUNG: As far as genre goes, I’m really into alternative R&B. I also like songs that are dreamy and chill. I listened to a lot of songs by Yerin Baek, Anderson Paak and Eric Bellinger lately. I usually listen to the newest releases to see what people like these days, but I also listen to old hits by 2Pac and the Notorious B.I.G.

In BE:LIFT LAB’s “Training Camp,” you said your personal motivation is the high goals you set for yourself.

HEESEUNG: If I were to say that I want to be at 100, I’m currently at a 30 or 40. I’m absolutely serious. I think I need to try a lot harder if I’m going to reach my full potential. I want to be more than just a set of skills, or an amazing person; I want to make sure I don’t lose myself. The more time you spend on your work, the less time there is to invest in yourself. And if your work takes over your identity, I think you might even find it easy to lose your own sense of self. I want to be the kind of person who can grow while staying devoted to my work.

It reminds me of your performance of “Chamber 5.” Even though I-LAND is a survival program and you could have chosen a song that would have been more advantageous to you, you took on a new challenge solely for self-improvement.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) I was in way over my head. I seriously never tried even a single playful song like “Chamber 5” before in my life. But, obviously, you can’t go back to the past. Anyway, that was my choice. I was preparing for a job where you have to be ready to handle all different kinds of concepts. I took that as a fact and just practiced. And also, I had the magnificent teacher, Mr. SUNOO, right there with me. (laughs) So it was good in the end.

Maybe it’s thanks to that experience that the way you turn around and wink in the “Let Me In (20 CUBE)” performance suits you so well.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) That kind of stuff just comes to me naturally now—basically showing people how charming I am. Was it a bit awkward? (laughs) Songs like “10 Months” are in-your-face cutesy. It was hard at first, but after thinking about my own style the answer came to me. I look mature compared to the other members, so I figured that was the solution to the problem of how to express my charm. Now I am Lee HEESEUNG, a man of endless allure. (laughs)

Before a leader was selected for ENHYPEN, your name kept coming up in the polls under headings like, “the first person you’ll turn to when you’re having a hard time,” or, “the person who won’t hesitate to take difficult tasks for others.”

HEESEUNG: I’m good at listening to other people’s problems. That sounded like bragging. (laughs) If I see someone struggling with something I can fix or help them with, it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch. I don’t go around thinking I always need to help with everything, but I unconsciously act that way.

You’re the oldest member of the group. I can tell the other members trust you, and rely on you. As their oldest teammate, how do you want to be there for them?

HEESEUNG: I hope they don’t think of me as being more important than them just because I’m the oldest. In middle school, high school, clubs, and places like that, I realized that opening up to someone your senior isn’t always easy. So when we became a team, I thought I should be a cute, approachable guy (laughs) and create an atmosphere where they can speak openly with me. Everybody feels comfortable talking to that kind of person.

It seems like you already are. You all looked really close when the others were touching your head without hesitation on V LIVE and saying it looks like the full moon. (laughs)

HEESEUNG: (laughs) Yes, I’m … not thrilled that happened. (laughs) Everyone in the group has their own strong, unique personality, but still, we all try to trust and respect one another, and we set clear boundaries. And as we spend more time together, we share more personal stories, which helps us grow closer.

In “-note,” you thank the people around you and judge your own practice progress objectively while finding the positive aspects. I was impressed.

HEESEUNG: Even though they didn’t show it on the show much, I felt tremendous pressure being in a leadership position. There was so much to deal with. A lot of that was hard, of course, but I believe that people become the things they say they are, so I chose to be thankful and stay positive. If I say it like I believe it, my thinking will change and then I can overcome any difficulty. For artists, fans are important, skills are important, and talent is important, if you want to draw people in. Everything is important, really. I think it’s most important to have a healthy mind if you want to really nail all those things.

What does music mean to you?

HEESEUNG: That’s the hardest question. (laughs) I don’t want to define music in one word. I don’t think there should be just one correct answer to what music is. Because there’s no answer, all kinds of different music gets made, and many different people can be on stage. As soon as there is an answer, music will lose its charm.

[manaketefirestone]

“Have things always been this way?” You whisper, unable to tear your gaze from the broken glass.

He looks away from you, staring out into the moonlit garden.

“No, but they were always meant to be. Fate can only be stretched so far before it snaps back into it’s rightful place.”

Demonic Debauchery Lore: Humans, the Devildom, and RAD

About 20 years have passed since the events of the Obey Me! game, everything was the same except MC wasn’t there because Lucifer wasn’t there when Diavolo picked the students for the initial exchange program (in the game it was Lucifer who picked MC out of a pile of photos). 

The exchange program ended up being only a partial success because the human who was chosen instead of MC was killed by a demon towards the end of their stay. 

This greatly upset Diavolo who executed the offending demon, which ironically ended up restoring the Devildom’s faith in him, previously seeing him as far too soft of a leader. The demonic prince however, was reportedly never quite the same afterwards.

Things were extremely dicey between the Celestial realm and the Devildom for awhile after this, the archangels blaming Diavolo and calling the exchange program a “pointless attempt to quell the innate monstrous and violent nature of the common demon with diplomatic pleasantries.”

A new rule was created after this incident, non-magical and/or weak humans are forbidden from entry to the Devildom. Thus, RAD ended up becoming a highly desired and exclusive school for witches and warlocks, having to prove themselves before even enrolling.

For awhile the Celestial realm was extremely hesitant in allowing more angels to attend, even after the new rule was implemented, forcing Simeon and Luke to withdraw from classes for a few years. Michael in particular was quite worried of the potential fallout of an angel being hurt by a demon, as much as he doted on his former best friend Lucifer he wasn’t sure he could stop the Angelic Council from declaring war if such an incident were to occur.

However as they say time heals all wounds, and eventually the gates of heaven were open once again, allowing the angels who sought magical knowledge of the more arcane nature to enroll in RAD.

Now the academy is a truly diverse place that only the strong can attend. In the hallways you’ll see greater demons making karaoke plans with witches after classes, angels sharing a ramen bowl with warlocks, etc. 

The primal hunger that lights the fire of demons varies from sin to sin, but the desire to hunt and prey on the weak is no less apparent. While on the surface harmony appears to be within reach, throw a trembling human in front of a lesser demon and they wouldn’t stand a chance. 

The ultimate goal of the exchange program, which was to foster healthier relationships between ALL of humanity, the celestial realm, and demons is still far out of reach.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

The CEO’s Little Kitten ~ Jumin Han x Reader

(( I’ve been feeling a bit off for a while now, and MysMes has always been a way to get comfort for +4 years, and replaying’s Zen’s route, along with the fact that my bestie’s birthday is approaching, made me want to come up with some nice for Jumin, where the Reader is a Veterinarian. Yeah, I’m definitely not projecting, I promise, lolol. ))

---

Everyone knew that Jumin loved Elizabeth the 3rd the most in this life, for a lot of reasons, so much that he often called her the partner of his life. On the other hand, the fact that he was never around women was the reason for a lot of false rumours that the other members of the RFA would often abuse and use to wind him up, coming to get a rise out of the otherwise stoic and composed man, but nothing seemed to bother him.

That is, until his father brought another woman with him and tried to convince him to marry this woman’s protejee, and if that wasn’t enough, his cat was behaving oddly, and the Vet was in vacation, so he was a bit frantic, to say the least.

“Mr. Han, if I may, my son has a friend who works at a well known and renowned modern Veterinary clinics. I could give him a call and see if this person is available to come by for a check up on Elizabeth the 3rd.” the chef spoke, making Jumin raise his eyebrow in intrigue. “Very well, let me know when he will come by.” he nodded, going to his room to watch over his cat more.

Barely 2 hours passed, and there was a knock on his bedroom door, and opening the door, the chef was in front of him with a small, fatherly smile.

“Mr. Han, the doctor has arrived.” the chef declared, standing in front of the tall, brunet man. “Tell him to come in.” Jumin spoke dismissively, going back inside the room. “Hello~! Where’s the beautiful little princess~?” a cheerful and sweet, soft voice called out, and a beautiful woman stepped in, dressed in a purple medical scrub, and the blouse had kitten pattern. “I wasn’t aware that a woman was the Veterinarian. My name is Jumin Han, and this is Elizabeth the 3rd.” Jumin extended his hand to her to shake, albeit a bit reticent, as he usually is around women. “It’s great meeting you, Mr. Han. I am Doctor Y/N L/N, you may call me whatever you want. Daniel’s dad mentioned something about this little sweetheart, but I have to know from you directly the reason why you wanted a check up.” she spoke with so much ease, as she went to kneel in front of the bed, next to the cat. “I left her with my assistant for the day, but she hasn’t been eating since I brought her back home. That’s unusual behaviour for her.” Jumin looked at the woman with curiosity as he saw Elizabeth slowly put her her forehead to the doctor’s, and for him, it looked like a picture painted by someone as great as the genius renaissance man, Leonardo da Vinci. “I understand. First of all, I’d like to ask how meticulous are you in taking care of her. Like...Do you give her strictly measured meals at specific times of the day, and only certain brands of food? Or you prefer to let things be estimate or by the eye?” she asked, as the cat jumped on her lap, as she began petting her. “Everything has been measured and chosen by widely renowned nutritionists.” he explained, watching his cat behave more affectionate with this stranger than with most people she’s ever been in contact with. “That makes sense. And when you let her with your assistant, are they are thorough and careful as you are, or do they estimate?” she asked again, helping the cat climb up her torso, as she rested around her neck, like a scarf, and started purring loudly. “I can only guess she wouldn’t be as exact as I am.” he crossed his arms, looking at the content and happy look on his cat’s face, as the woman was scratching her behind the ears. “Have you considered the potential idea that Elizabeth ate too much? For example, if you give her 1 and a half can of food, but your assistant fed her both full cans, not wanting to waste everything, then Elizabeth is way too full to eat again. She needs to digest everything and maybe a bit more exercising.” the woman explained, touching her nose to the cat’s, giggling at how cute she was being. “Are you sure that’s all there is?” Jumin asked again, just to be certain. “Based on the anamnesis and the checking up I did on her, everything is perfect. You’re taking take of her better than 99% of the population of pet owners. Her fur is impeccable, her eyes are shiny and follow me perfectly, her reflexes are great...Maybe we should trip her claws a bit, but that’s no big deal. Other than that...She has the cutest toe beans I’ve seen in a long while.” her voice became a bit more pitched, as she gushed over his cat. “Very well, then thank you for your help. How much do I owe you for your consultation and diagnosis?” he asked in a professional voice. “Owe me? You don’t owe me anything. It’s not like I really did anything. Besides, it’s always a pleasure being able to spend time with such a beautiful princess.” Y/N smiled at the man with a grin that resembled that of his own cat. “That’s rather gracious of you. Let me at least pay for a taxi to whatever destination you’re heading to.” Jumin pressed on, feeling weird seeing someone not taking the money he offered. “Aww, thank you, Mr. Han, but that won’t be necessary. I like to walk around the city quite a lot, it’s relaxing after a long day at the clinic.” she carefully picked up Elizabeth from her shoulders, kissed her head, then gave her to Jumin. “Would it be okay to ask for your business phone number, in case Elizabeth the 3rd needs your assistance again?” he asked, speaking purely business...Or so he wanted to make himself believe. “Oh, sure! I hope I see this gorgeous baby again! I don’t exactly have a separate business phone, but here, this is where you can contact me. I always have my phone with me, so you’ll reach me pretty fast if anything happens.” she took out her phone and gave him her number, leaning in to give the kitten one last kiss on the nose.

The man, for the rest of the day, spent his time playing and cuddling with Elizabeth, pondering over the incredibly strange interaction he had today with this woman.

She didn’t seem anything like any woman he had the misfortune to encounter, all of them gold diggers, either wanting him for his money directly, or to have something to tie them with his company, or with his father...Hell, some were in it for his money AND looks, if that wasn’t bad enough.

Jumin is aware that he was born with great looks, and he has the brains to make that work in his and his company’s favour, getting successful deal after deal, and then ghosting them.

But this woman...This so called Y/N...She was something else.

She didn’t smile brightly and talked sweetly to him out of wanting something, she did all that just because she saw Elizabeth.

She didn’t give him her number because she wanted to pester him with business messages, but because she wanted to see Elizabeth again.

She couldn’t care less about Jumin, she just wanted to do her job...No, rather, her passion.

Jumin could see the love and passion she had from the way her eyes sparkles, and the way her voice became an infinite times gentler and sweeter whenever she’d talk to or about Elizabeth.

This woman was definitely something else, especially because she completely conquered Jumin’s thoughts.

And now he wondered...

He seemed like a generous woman who would like to help others...So if he could get Assistant Kang to join RFA, why shouldn’t he try to get her in the organisation too?

And she quickly agreed as soon as she heard about charities and parties, and suggested giving money for the local animal shelters and the wildlife associations and so on.

As days and weeks passed, a party was successfully held, and Jumin had the pleasure to see how perfectly well Y/N blended in with the other members, and they all loved her, despite being rather timid at the beginning.

After the party, they gathered to a pub, had some drinks and something light to eat, while Y/N, Zen and Seven would sing Karaoke, Jumin would watch them amused, and the two women would take care of a cutely drunk Yoosung.

It was incredibly wholesome and they decided they must definitely do that again some time soon.

Months passed, and Jumin called the woman more often to hang out with Elizabeth and himself, under the pretext of wanting her to check up on the cat, but of course, they’d often hang out and eat together more often than not, with him occasionally walking her home, saying that he didn’t have time to do his 30 minutes of physical exercise.

But things started taking a turn for the worse unexpectedly soon, when, while on a play date with the cat, Y/N received a call from her boss, telling her that she was fired.

“Wait, what?! Wh-Why am I fired? Have I done something wrong?” she walked away from Jumin, speaking in a softer voice, not wanting to bother him. “Not necessarily wrong, but you don’t fit in to our ideology. You accept treating animals for less than the normal sum, and you think everything is a charity. Y/N, I’m sorry, this is a business in the end, and we can’t have charity work for every homeless stray, or any owner who can’t pay for their pet’s treatment. You have a good heart, but we can’t continue like this any further. I’m sorry, you are a fantastic doctor. Good luck in the future.” her boss explained, making the girl nod, putting her arm around herself. “...I understand. I’m sorry for disappointing you. I wish you all the best in the future as well.” she spoke in a voice barely audible, sighing as she hung up and raking her hand through her hair. “Great. That’s exactly what I needed.” she muttered, shaking her head and going back to Jumin as if nothing was wrong.

“Did something happen?” the man asked, realising rather easily that something wasn’t well. “Oh, yeah, all’s cool, don’t worry! More importantly, look how Elizabeth is cuddled up with her toy!” she tried to change the subject, but he wasn’t having any of it. “Was it a call from work?” he was annoyingly perceptive, the girl thought, as she chuckled awkwardly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” the corner of her mouth twitched upwards for a split second. “So I hit the nail spot on.” he nodded, not sketching any emotion on his face. “They fired me. Said I didn’t treat my job like a business, but like a charity passion. I’ve been doing this for so long, with the only mindset of saving animals that I kept forgetting that...I can’t pay for everyone’s treatments if they can’t afford it, and I can’t take care of all the strays in the world either. I guess I forgot myself and overstepped the line between sensibility and my heart...It’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?” she laughed weakly, looking down with an embarrassed expression. “I wouldn’t call that pathetic. In the worst case, maybe a bit naive. You have an admirable heart and your intentions are good, it’s obvious that you’re doing your job with love and passion. You remind me of Zen, but you’re less arrogant and annoyingly prideful.” Jumin spoke his opinion, making the girl smile tenderly. “Thank you...You’re really nice, Jumin. Even though you’re a successful businessman, you make an effort to understand someone so different. My dream has always been to become a great doctor and work hard to get enough money to build my own clinic, get funds for high tech equipment and also try to help the animal shelter and take care of all the strays. It’s...A rather unrealistic and childish dream, don’t you think?” she chuckled, shifting her gaze towards the playing cat. “It is incredibly naive and unrealistic, if you don’t have the proper base for a business and know how to negotiate to earn funds and equipment. I can help with that.” Jumin ended his proposition, making the girl frown at him. “I refuse that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that you’d be willing to waste your money on someone like me...But...It’s as I said. Wasted money on someone who has no idea what to do with it. And besides...I wouldn’t want you to think that I want your money or something. I want us to be friends. I care a lot about our friendship.” she smiled tenderly at him, which only made the man sigh. “At least you’re not refusing me out of stupid pride. If you are ever in need of a job, Elizabeth’s private doctor position is always open for you.” Jumin nodded at her. “Thank you, Jumin. I’ll keep that in mind. I won’t forget your kindness...But I don’t want to end up like Jaehee, where you have to text her, since you can’t stand her voice anymore. I wouldn’t want to annoy you with just my presence.” she scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “...I’m sure that wouldn’t happen. Anyhow, I know a few great clinics that are willing to employ someone with your energy and knowledge. The least I can do is call them up and recommend you.” the man suggested, which seemed to brighter the expression on her face. “I would greatly appreciate that. Thank you from all my heart for caring about me, Jumin. I mean it, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” she grinned gratefully at him, and for the first time in his life, he felt a heart arrhythmia.

And that’s exactly what he did, and for a while, the girl was more than enthusiastic with everything, but sooner rather than later, the boss realised she was an amazing employee and started abusing her work ours, calling for her more than one shift per day, not allowing her enough time to rest between shifts, not enough time to eat properly or go out with the members of the organisation whenever they managed to match a evening.

Jaehee would call to check up on her, and oftentimes, she’d wake her up in the middle of the afternoon, which is when she was able to get a wink of sleep.

Zen would ask her to post selfies, and it was obvious she was starting to get paler, and she had dark circles around her eyes from the sleep deprivation.

Yoosung asked her if she’s been eating properly, as he thought she was starting to lose weight in an unhealthily way.

Seven asked if she was doing anything else other than overworking herself, as even himself and Jaehee, despite everything, still found time to do some things for themselves too.

And Jumin...

Jumin was the most worried out of them all.

He knew how determined she was to save the little souls she was so fond of, and quickly realised how her kindness could easily be taken advantage of.

He was annoyed with how gentle and soft she was, but in the same way, that’s what intrigued him so much about her.

It only made him want to protect her, especially since he was lowkey blaming himself for recommending her that specific clinic.

So, one day, he found the perfect opportunity to call her, when Elizabeth, once again, stopped eating and was behaving rather lethargically and was coughing, and of course, as soon as she heard about the cat being in distress, she rushed to Jumin’s place without a second thought or suspicion. 

As soon as she entered in his room, he had to gather all the self-control he had not to jump on her and get her in bed, to force her to sleep properly, while he gets her a proper, nutritious meal.

She wasn’t smiling, she wasn’t glowing, she wasn’t vibing, she wasn’t cheering, she wasn’t cuddling Elizabeth, she wasn’t...

She wasn’t okay.

And for some reason, this bothered Jumin a great time, but he wasn’t sure how to address this without offending her or making her uncomfortable.

His interactions with Zen and Jaehee made him understand human behaviour a bit more in-depth than he would otherwise, just from books, so he settled for examining first.

“Okay, so what’s wrong with the little princess?” her voice was weak and soft, as she kneeled down slowly, petting the cat. “She has been rather lazy today, didn’t want to play, and has been coughing frequently.” Jumin’s explanation was simple, but effective. “Fur ball. She has to vomit a fur ball, but can’t. Could you please bring me a tray or something? I wouldn’t want this beautiful white carpet to get dirty with stomach fluids and vomit.” she stretched herself to get her bag, taking out a sort of laxative. “Use this.” Jumin brought the first useless clipboard he found around, putting it on the ground next to her. “Thank you. There, there, darling, it will be alright, don’t worry. I know it’s uncomfortable, but you’ll get better in a second.” after giving her the laxative, she started massaging her belly, helping the cat vomit the fur ball easier. “Great job, sweety, you’re all good to go.” Y/N gave the cat the ghost of a smile, as she got up, albeit, as lethargic as the cat used to be. “Thank you for your time and for taking care of Elizabeth, Y/N. Why don’t you stay over for lunch?” Jumin asked, as he raised the clipboard and put it away, on a desk, not to forget to throw it away. “I’d love to, but maybe next time. I have a triple shift today and it starts in 2 hours. I really appreciate you thinking of me, but...Work.” she sighed, looking away, before giving with a forced smile. “Are you sick, Y/N? You don’t look very healthy to me. Have you gone to do regular check ups?” he asked, trying to think of a proper excuse to stop her from leaving. “Oh, uhm...I didn’t really have the time. Work has been taking most of my time. But I’ll go as soon as the opportunity arises, I promise!” she tried to skip the conversation. “Well, then, I’ll be off! It was great seeing you, Jumin. Elizabeth too, of course! Take care of yourselves!” she waved at them, rushing to leave the room, making sure she closes the door behind her.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to take too many steps, as a vertigo state started taking over her, and she had to stop and lean on the corridor’s wall, only for her vision to get blurry, covered with a myriad of black dots, and then disappearing completely.

She fainted, falling to the ground with a soft thud, the sound being amortised by the fluffy carpet, but it was enough for Jumin to go check up on and sigh at the sight.

He knew something like that was going to happen, yet he was just grateful it happened while in his home, not on the street or something.

Jaehee would sometimes experience vertigo states and faintness while at work, due to overwork and overexhaustion, but this was taken to the extreme.

That woman had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. 

He picked her up with ease, placing her gingerly on his bed, tucking her in, as he took of his blazer, rolling up his shirt sleeves and watching over her.

Usually, fainting would last barely seconds or minutes, but this wasn’t something ordinary. He heard of numerous cases of people sleeping 12, 14, even 16 or more hours, to compensate from the long period of stress and deprivation, so all he could do was wait until she would awaken herself, then give her a light, yet nutritious meal, make sure she hydrates herself...

And never let her do something as stupid as that.

He was going to make sure she doesn’t neglect herself again.

After all, you can’t fulfill your dreams if you are ill or dead, correct?

Jumin took her phone, putting it on silent and disabling all alarms, to make sure she sleeps unbothered, while he’d complete his work in silence and do everything he would do in a day, but as silent as possible.

It melted his heart when he noticed Elizabeth cuddling in the crook of Y/N’s neck, and at that moment, he wished he would take both of them in his arms and just stay there and rest for a while, in complete peace, having no more worries.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he was awoken by a soft cry, which startled him, only to see the girl on the edge of the bed, her head hung, her hands gripping at her unkept yet otherwise beautiful hair.

Frowning in confusion, he got up to sit next to her, putting his arm around her and pulling her to his chest, playing with her hair, as if he was playing with Elizabeth’s fur.

“I’m sorry for wasting your time, Jumin. I really am. I bothered you too much already...” she managed to squeak between her sobs. “Nonsense. Is that what was giving you distress?” he asked, in surprise. “That, and...I...Got fired. Again. I told the boss that I fainted and couldn’t come, but she didn’t believe me, so...That’s it. No more job again...And another slap in the face that I’m just a stupid girl who dreams too big, but has no idea how to do anything. I’m just a weak failure who can’t do anything right. You shouldn’t even stay around someone as stupid as me. I’m sorry...” her small form was trembling, and the man could swear the words were hurting him more than were hurting her. “Stop speaking like that. Instead of insulting yourself, solve things. If you can’t solve things by yourself, then ask for help. Everybody needs help sometimes. Nobody was born knowledgeable, and neither was I. My father helped a lot, and more, all the studies that have been taught to me. Like you don’t know know anything about management, I don’t know anything about medicine. Asking for help doesn’t make you weak, and nor does it make you a bother for anyone.” Jumin explained, as the girl hugged him tighter. “But...But...You’re so busy...I don’t want to give you more trouble than needed. I don’t want you to end up like me. My dreams are silly and unrealistic...I couldn’t possibly ask you to support something so stupid and childish as that.” she spoke in a meek, mouse-like voice. “You have no idea how many cat projects I’ve done so far and how much money I lost, because I wanted to glorify my love for Elizabeth the 3rd. I may be 27 years old and I may be the one who’s going to continue my father’s work after he retires, but that doesn’t mean I can’t indulge in my own passions. That’s how it is with you as well. So, Y/N, look at me. Look at me and ask me for help.” Jumin put his hands on her cheeks, raising her head so he could look into her tearful eyes that held a myriad of emotions and doubts. “Can I really be selfish and ask for your help, Jumin?” she managed to ask after having a small internal battle with herself inside her mind. “I wouldn’t offer my help if I wasn’t willing to do it properly.” he leaned in to kiss her forehead, making the girl take a sharp inhale, putting her hands over his, and smiling softly. “Thank you so much, Jumin. I owe you everything.” she whispered, gratefully. “You owe me taking care of yourself. That’s all. Accept the position of Elizabeth the 3rd’s personal Vet, and let me help you out with your dream. It’s not as unrealistic as you think it is, if only you have someone who knows what to do.” he offered, and she could only nod, and this time, her usual bright smile was back on her face, even despite the tears that were still streaming down her face. “Okay, Jumin. I trust you. I will take care of myself...So please help me out.” she said in such a sweet voice, that Jumin, for the first time in his life, had the urge to just grab her face and kiss her, with no regrets. “The deal is settled, then. Tomorrow I have a meeting with a wealthy company from abroad, and we will be staying at a resort by the beach. You’re coming as well, I won’t accept any complaints. I will call Assistant Kang to tell her that I will be leaving Elizabeth the 3rd with her for a few days. If you have appropriate outfits for going at the beach, then we will go pick them up from your place when I go leave Elizabeth with Assistant Kang. If not, we must go buy some.” Jumin got up, explaining everything as he called Jaehee, informing her of everything she must know.

She felt a bit uncomfortable knowing that Jaehee had more work on her hands because of her, but she had to learn to accept that she needed help, and Jumin was willing to offer it, because he was a good friend and he cared about her and her well-being, like nobody ever did.

It was weird being so pampered all the time, not feeling like she deserved it, but even so, her mind was constantly on the man she was living with, and even more, tomorrow was a big day.

She tried out a few swim suits, sundresses, hates, sunglasses and slippers, all the perfect clothes for going at the beach at a private resort and enjoying the cool ocean and the hot sun.

Y/N spent most of the flight sleeping on Jumin’s shoulder while listening to music on her phone, and he fell asleep with his head leaning on hers, as they arrived early morning, and went to have a great breakfast.

As the meeting started at noon sharp, Y/N spent the whole afternoon walking around the shore, with her feet in the water, listening to the waves breaking and the tranquil atmosphere, along with the ocean breeze and the sun rays were making her feel revitalised like never before.

She felt alive, after so long.

Hours passed without her even realising, and Jumin appeared in front of her bringing two cocktails on the beach lounge chairs, and she rushed to him.

“How was it? Everything alright?” she asked, taking a sip of the ice-cold strawberry drink. “Of course it did. But that isn’t the most important thing now. I see you’re rather happy. You’re not as pale as you used to be just two days ago either. I’m glad.” he said, causing another wide grin to spread on her face. “Well, it’s thanks to you, after all. You gave me the opportunity and helped revive me. I haven’t been out in the sun for a long while...And now...Well, I finally remember what it’s like to relax.” her smile was contagious, as Jumin started smiling a bit as well, until their phones started beeping and they saw the other members were chatting about the girl.

Yoosung: Is she okay?! I’ve been trying to text her all yesterday, but there was no sign :( Zen: Yeah, me too. This place has been kinda quiet without her. 707: I just tracked her location and... 707: She’s at an exotic resort?! lol?! Zen: ?!?!?! Yoosung: HUH?! Jaehee Kang: Let me explain. Zen: Jaehee, you know what happened with Y/N? Jaehee Kang: Not everything, but just some bits that I picked up from Mr. Han. Zen: What does Trust Fund Kid have to do with Y/N’s disappearance?! 707: LOLOLOL Y/N AND JUMIN ARE IN THE SAME PLACE, RIGHT NEXT TO EACH OTHER!!! Yoosung: *Gasp sticker* Zen: SAY WHAT NOW?! Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han took Y/N with him on his business trip, saying that she needs a break from work. You all know how bad she was doing. Yesterday especially, she fainted from overwork and exhaustion, got fired, and Mr. Han offered her a job and said he’d make sure she’s okay.  Jaehee Kang: That’s the brief summary of what I pieced together. Yoosung: Y/N!!! If you see these messages, please tell us you’re feeling better!! I’m very happy that Jumin was so nice to help you out! Zen: ...That’s shocking. To think that Silver Spoon would do something like that for someone. That’s amazing. 707: Jumin, won’t you take me on a beach business trip too?! I feel my skin drying from the lack of sun too!! Zen: Jeez, don’t whine like that, do something about it.  707: lololol. Anyway, it’s not that shocking that Jumin did something like that for Y/N. I mean, he offered Zen some deals too. Didn’t he tell Yoosung that he’d hire him, if he gets good grades too? Jaehee Kang: Oh dear... Jumin Han: All you know to do is to gossip all day long. Don’t you have anything better to do? Jumin Han: Also, Y/N is just fine. And yes, she’s next to me. Y/N: Yep! I’m doing infinitely better than before. Thank you so much for worrying about me, I promise I will take care of myself from now on!! Y/N: *sent a selfie*

Y/N then got next to Jumin, taking off her sunglasses and gluing her cheek to his, grinning, one arm around his torso, to help herself stand on her tippy toes and reach his level, while the other was used to take a selfie.

Zen: Ohh, your dark circles are starting to disappear! And your skin isn’t as deathly pale! Y/N: Yeahh, I spent the whole day outside in the sun. It is incredibly refreshing. Yoosung: I hope you’re having fun at the beach! Did you get to swim yet? Y/N: No, not yet, but tomorrow it’s going to be even hotter than today, so I’ll definitely enjoy the water then! Jaehee Kang: Y/N...You look happy. I’m glad to see you smiling again. And you made Mr. Han smile too...That’s quite the feat. Y/N: ??? What do you mean? Jumin has a beautiful smile! Zen: Not more beautiful than mine, surely!  Zen: *sent a selfie* Jaehee Kang: I have been cleansed... 707: lololol here we go again. Y/N: You have a beautiful smile, Zen. But Jumin’s smiles are pure and rare, like the first snowdrop of Spring. Jumin: *smile sticker* Jumin: You heard her. Zen: *angry sticker* Zen: Did you steal her phone and write that yourself or what?! Jumin: No. Jumin: *sent a picture* Jumin: She’s by the shore, I’m still on the lounge chair.

Jumin took a picture of the girl who was staying with her feet in the water ankle-deep, looking into the horizon as the sun was setting and the sky was painted with all the colours of the twilight by angels. He could only look at how gorgeous she looked as she had her hands on her hat, to make sure the breeze won’t fly it away, and the way her sundress was gently swaying in the wind.

Yoosung: Ohhh, so pretty! I’d like to go on holiday to a place like that too, one day! Y/N: OMG Jumin!! Y/N: *embarrassed sticker*

Before she realised, Jumin was behind her, startling her unwillingly, as he prowled silently, like a feline.

“D-Don’t startle me like that!” she chuckled weakly, putting her hand on her chest where her heart would be. “That was not my intention. I just wanted to see you up up close again. The picture came up beautiful.” he said, taking off her sunglasses and hanging them from his Tshirt neck, loving to see all the emotions that her eyes betray so innocently. “I-I don’t know how to respond to that.” the girl blushed softly, looking away, trying to hide her face with the long ends of the hat. “You don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad that I can see you smile again...For me. You make my day brighter than this sun does. And I’m happy that you’re finally willing to rely on me to help you with your dream.” he smiled softly, putting a hand on her face, lifting her face up. “If I can make you happy, then I’m happy as well. Jumin, I...I love you. I know I said I didn’t want thing to be weird between us, but...I had to tell you. You deserve to know my feelings for you. They have been there for a while...” she closed her eyes, blushing even harder, only to make the man smile at her. “Good. Now that I know my feelings for you are reciprocated, I don’t have to stop myself from doing this.” Jumin hummed slightly, leaning down to capture the girl’s soft lips with his, giving her a sweet, gentle kiss, only for her to put her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

But then, the phones started beeping like crazy, startling and confusing the girl, until she looked at the chat and gasped, hiding her face with her hat.

“WHEN-...?! WHY?! H O W?!” she chirped in embarrassment, seeing a picture of them kissing in the group chat, while everyone was commenting on it. “If Zen wants to show off all the time, then why shouldn’t I as well?” he smirked softly, kissing her forehead to calm her down. “Y-You...Just...I don’t know how to reply to that either. You’re really something else.” she sighed dramatically, before chuckling and hugging him. “When you smile like that, you remind me of a kitten. And now you’re cuddling me like one. How cute.” he mused, putting his arms around her. “I love you.”

[atinytokki]

H O R I Z O N

Chapter 10: Liftoff

There’s an odd sort of quiet over the changing room as both teams strip out of their wetsuits and change into more comfortable clothes. The deliberation time of the PCC can take anywhere from minutes to days, and no one is expecting their leader to be announced any time soon.

“I feel so bad, he may have cost himself the captain title and we just helped him,” Mingi whispers to the rest of Team Z when Seonghwa steps away from them and Yeosang watches the older boy go into the showers, listening for the water to turn on before speaking.

“It would have reflected worse on him if we’d defied his orders.”

“True,” Yunho agrees from where he’s depositing his uniform in the appropriate vacuum chute. “It’s his loss, not ours.”

As with every year, each member will be scored cumulatively on their combined Dome battles, a grade that will go towards their final examination to determine readiness for full Horizon team status. Only the prospective leaders had something else on the line in that rollercoaster ride of a final simulation.

Yeosang is shaken out of his musings by a hand clamping down on his shoulder.

“Hey, you want to rustle up some dessert in the cafeteria? Junyoung and Youngseok offered to make a distraction for the cameras,” Wooyoung offers, San draping over his shoulder and letting out a devious giggle. “And Jongho, Mingi, and Yunho, you guys are welcome too. We don’t have to fight each other anymore after tonight.”

Yeosang smiles at everyone’s excited acceptance of that fact but politely declines. “I think I’ll hang back with Seonghwa. Make sure he’s... alright.”

The three of them acquiesce and follow Team A out to the trams while Yeosang finally takes a deep breath and sits on the locker room bench, letting his head fall back against the wall.

Only one obstacle remains.

As Yeosang traces little characters in the steam on the mirrors with his finger, he prepares his mental checklist. The daydreaming he did during some of his afternoons at medical tutoring could still come back to haunt him unless he buckles down and studies obsessively.

When finally the water shuts off and a half dressed Seonghwa emerges to fix his hair in the mirror, Yeosang clears his throat to make his presence known.

“The Seonghwa I met a few months ago would never have given up a flag like that.”

He sets his jaw like he’s preparing to defend himself before pulling on a shirt and wiping his face clean of expressions. “The result of the final battle does not always indicate who the leader will be, you know that,” he answers deadpan.

“So you mean to tell me that was a calculated risk and not a spur of the moment decision?” Yeosang scoffs, following the older boy as he throws on his jacket and heads to the tram tunnel.

“Why?” Seonghwa shoots back immediately. “Are you afraid your score will be lowered because of it?”

“No, hyung,” his voice softens earnestly. “I’m looking out for you. You always joke about Hongjoong being absent from his own team but you’ve been a bit of a lone wolf yourself… emotionally at least. I just want to make sure you’re thinking straight.”

Seonghwa stops and turns towards him, honestly in his eyes as he searches his face and asks in a low voice, “If Hongjoong was chosen as leader, would you follow him?”

“Yes,” Yeosang answers without hesitation. Seonghwa gives him another once over and then nods, boarding the tram as it pulls up.

“Then that’s all I need to know.”

Yeosang sighs at the cryptic answer but hurries onto the tram before it leaves him there and stays quiet while Seonghwa mutters to himself, something about not being a lone wolf.

When the tram reaches the main office building and Seonghwa stands up to exit, Yeosang becomes suspicious.

“The cafeteria is that way, you know,” he points out, following behind just the same as they step into an elevator. Seonghwa doesn’t answer, but Yeosang has a feeling where they’re going when they step out at the 200th floor and beeline for the PCC meeting room.

“Seonghwa…” Yeosang whines when he tries and fails to open the door. “What are you, crazy? You don’t have access and they’ll never let you in.”

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to say something before you decide,” Seonghwa states directly at the camera pointed down from above the doorway.

There’s only silence for a second as the voices inside the room die down before the door opens and Soojin pokes her head out with a frown.

“If you’ve come to plead your case—”

“I haven’t,” Seonghwa cuts her off. “I’ve come to forfeit.”

Yeosang audibly gasps but Soojin remains perfectly composed. From inside the conference room, several other pairs of eyes are directed at the pair and Yeosang wants to shrink away from them and abandon Seonghwa to his fate.

But he stays firm.

Wordlessly, Soojin steps to the side to allow them to enter, Yeosang still hanging behind and ready to speak up if Seonghwa needs him but completely in the blind about where this conversation is going.

The space is properly ornate for some of the most powerful people in the IPF to occupy, decorative chandeliers curving down in odd shapes from the high ceiling and sleek furniture sparsely distributed to give just the right amount of seating without overcrowding the room.

The Council is seated around the long table in the middle of the space, and three hologram transmissions are projected onto it from the Citadel. IPF’s directors, joining the discussion from space.

Seonghwa clears his throat and delivers his resolution unwaveringly.

“I’d formally like to request that I no longer be considered for the leadership position of Team ATZ.”

Yeosang shakes his head imperceptibly. Whatever the PCC thought of him before, barging in and trying to forfeit will definitely ruin Seonghwa’s chances.

As far as he knows, no potential leader has ever forfeit before and certainly none of them have interrupted a PCC meeting before. Seonghwa is an idiot for this but Yeosang is there to support him, so he doesn’t intervene.

One of the men seated opposite Soojin leans forward and strokes his chin. “May I ask why?”

“I’ve realised…” Seonghwa’s voice goes quiet for a beat before he clears his throat and continues. “I’ve realised the responsibility is not for me. I believe I’d accomplish what’s expected of me much better from the background.”

The way everyone begins looking at each other makes Yeosang want to tear his hair out. The directors have a muted conversation off camera while an older woman addresses Seonghwa again.

“But your actions were sacrificial, they were heroic. That type of attitude is beneficial to a Horizon team, not detrimental.”

“Nonetheless,” Seonghwa sighs. “I’m not ready for the position. Hongjoong is the only sensible choice.”

“Seonghwa,” Soojin interrupts. “If you’re worried about the attention of the press—”

“That’s not it,” he shoots back impatiently and Yeosang tenses at the sight of eyebrows raised around the table. “The directors have seen my file, I think they’ll agree.”

“Alright,” the first man acknowledges when the directors’ holograms give him the signal after a nail-biting pause. “We’ve heard you and your opinion will be considered. Please see yourself out.”

Yeosang had never moved so fast in his life. Leaving the conference hall with Seonghwa in tow makes him feel like he can breathe again, though his curiosity is stronger now than before.

A stressed Soojin follows them out with a hand rubbing her temples before turning to Seonghwa and hissing under her breath, “You realise you’re not even supposed to know who’s on the Council and you just looked them all in the eye and told them how to do their job, right?”

“It was a bit too urgent to deal with all the bureaucracy,” Seonghwa insists in return. “I can’t wait around for you to schedule me a hearing or whatever, the meeting was happening so I did what I had to.”

Yeosang pinches his nose from behind, knowing there’s nothing he can do while Soojin scans the pair of them up and down, as if noticing something new.

“You’re lucky they seem to like you,” she finally scoffs in defeat. “You kids will be the death of me.”

With that, she straightens her blouse and returns to the meeting, leaving Seonghwa and Yeosang to the awkward elevator ride back down.

“So—”

“I’d really rather not talk about it,” Seonghwa interrupts before Yeosang can even get started, and the younger boy simply crosses his arms and levels him with a glare.

“I wasn’t going to ask. I was going to tell you dessert is being purloined at the moment and by now we should be meeting the others at the dorms.”

Seonghwa straightens and a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Actually, I like the sound of that.”

___

It takes until Mingi accidentally knocks over the entire jug of juice for Seonghwa to get a chance to pull Yunho to the side.

“Do you happen to know where Hongjoong went?” He asks the other, whose hands are full of paper towels. “I haven’t seen him since Yeosang and I came in.”

“Oh, he didn’t stick around for long,” Yunho responds, quiet and more sober than he had been mere minutes ago when it was his turn at karaoke. “He said he was going to Observatory A. I saved him a slice though.”

With that, he hands over a plate of cake and returns to help mop up the mess. No one is the wiser as Seonghwa slips out and back to the trams.

The observatory facilities are desolate at night. The entire complex is desolate in a way, with more and more teams blasting off to the Citadel and leaving Earth behind, but the eerie glass staircases and tube like halls with their stark white light give Seonghwa the shivers as he makes his way to Observatory A.

Hongjoong is there, sitting in the dark and peering into the massive telescope that points up through the retractable roof.

The sleeves of his sweater are too long for him, so he repeatedly pushes them back every time he goes to write down an observation until the sound of the door decompressing makes him jump and glance in Seonghwa’s direction.

“Yunho said I’d find you here,” he says by way of explanation, putting on his mask and watching Hongjoong tilt his head and shuffle uncomfortably.

“Oh, did he?” The white haired boy hums before turning to his notes again. “Yeah, I still have some studying to do...”

Seonghwa feels awkward standing there, so he places the plate on Hongjoong’s table and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“Did you end up telling him about, you know, the thing with your dad—”

“Yes,” Hongjoong cuts him off swiftly, and Seonghwa doesn’t bring up the topic again. “Did you need something?”

Seonghwa chuckles and motions to the table. “You forgot your ‘I survived the Dome’ cake slice.”

Hongjoong looks at it and sighs. There’s a beat before his eyes meet Seonghwa’s, suddenly full of disappointment. “Why did you do it? We could have taken those drones.”

Seonghwa bites his lip to keep from groaning. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about, yet here they were again.

“Trust me, you couldn’t have,” he answers, hoping to drop the issue quickly. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

Hongjoong scoffs and becomes tense. “That’s a pretty poor excuse to break the rules for another team, you don’t even know what the consequences for both of us will be—”

“Why are you of all people upset that I saved you?” Seonghwa snaps at him, and Hongjoong doesn’t back down, standing to face him fully and jabbing his chest with an accusing finger.

“This is exactly why! Because you’ve gone soft and it’ll look like you forfeit or something, like I just took a pity win!”

As soon as the words leave Hongjoong’s mouth, Seonghwa understands. All the fire goes out of him and he takes a step back from the confrontation.

“Hongjoong, I don’t want to fight you—”

“Yeah? Well, for once I wish you would have!” And with that, Hongjoong deflates and stabs his cake slice with the provided fork, sneaking a bite into his mouth under the mask.

Seonghwa lets him brood over dessert and instead moves over to the telescope, taking a peek at whatever it was Hongjoong was studying.

“Mars? Hey, you know Mars was always my—”

“Nickname, I know,” Hongjoong answers softly. “I overheard you talking to San that time.”

“It’s a shame Mars couldn’t have been our new home,” Seonghwa jokes, pulling back with a grin. “I’d expect VIP status if it was.”

Hongjoong stands and joins him, tilting the telescope just a nudge to the left. “I was actually looking past Mars, past the solar system, past the Milky Way. In the Sigi Cluster... there could be our new home planet.”

It was rumoured to be the next area of interest for the IPF, after the previous Horizon generation continued to struggle with alien populations in the surrounding systems.

Seonghwa takes another look when Hongjoong steps out of the way for him, but his vision is obscured by something white gathering on the telescope.

“It’s snow!” Hongjoong laughs from where he’s watching the silent flurries drift down from the sky, blinking sporadically as they land on his eyelashes. “I haven’t seen snow in ages. It moved in so fast just now...”

They close the roof and spend a few minutes admiring it while Hongjoong finishes his cake.

“We’re okay, right?” He asks after a moment, breaking Seonghwa out of his daze.

He nods quickly and collects the plate, noticing the time on the wall clock.

“You should come back with me and get some sleep.”

Hongjoong shakes his head and picks up his pencil again. “Not done yet.”

“The dorm is a lot more fun now. Everyone’s excited to work together, no matter what the results are,” Seonghwa tries to bribe him.

“Seonghwa...” Hongjoong tries to complain but he has to smile at the excuses the older boy is coming up with.

“San and Yeosang are probably cuddling right now! You really want to miss a chance to blackmail them forever?”

Hongjoong gives him a dubious frown but quickly packs his things.

“I guess I can’t say no to that.”

___

The sound of an important message popping up on his wristband sends Wooyoung catapulting off the couch and onto Jongho, who groans tiredly and pushes him to the floor.

The living area isn’t meant for ten people to sleep there, but the festivities ran late last night and Team ATZ could do little more than curl up with some blankets and pass out on the couches and the floor.

Examination order has been confirmed, the notification reads, and the name at the top of the list is Yeosang. Apparently he’s being tested in a couple of hours.

Inhaling sharply, Wooyoung steps over Yunho’s long limbs to reach the other couch and shakes Yeosang awake, untangling him from San and shoving a pillow into the sleeping boy’s arms.

“Why, what is it?” Yeosang mumbles as soon as he’s been dragged back to their room, catching the clothes that Wooyoung throws at him.

“You’re being tested at noon!” He answers, grabbing Yeosang’s arm and turning his wristband on for him. “Hurry up and get dressed!”

“What?” Yeosang nearly shrieks before clamping his own hand over his mouth and trying to calm down. “I thought final exams were next week, not today!”

“Accelerated schedule, remember?” Wooyoung whispers back, pulling his own clothes on. “They’re not done throwing challenges at us.”

“But I’m the least ready person to be examined first,” Yeosang whines, stressed tears already gathering as he tangles his hands in his hair. “I can’t go in three hours! Why didn’t they tell us last night? I could’ve studied!”

He drops into his chair and frantically starts assembling his materials while Wooyoung settles onto his bed and offers to be of service. “I can quiz you if you want, but if you need a cadaver to practice surgery on or something, I’m afraid I can’t help.”

What comes next is two full hours of quizzing Yeosang on diagrams Wooyoung can’t decipher and terms he can’t pronounce. Yeosang does well but snatches back his wristband and continues to study anyway, afraid his applied knowledge is somehow lacking in comparison to the technical side.

When the time comes, Wooyoung wrestles the materials away and puts Yeosang’s jacket on for him. “You always say it’s cold in the medical wing. And don’t forget your water bottle.”

Yeosang grips his hand and offers a nod. There’s no time for anything else, and he leaves without another word. Wooyoung knows he’ll do fine.

San takes it as his cue to enter, hair still a wreck despite having dressed and eaten, and sets up his own studying materials on the floor, motioning to the display on Wooyoung’s wristband.

“We’re second to last, but I woke up everyone else in case they need to study too.”

Wooyoung nods in acknowledgement and collapses on his bed. He’s not all that worried about his own examination, but he lets San study with him anyway, reviewing everything they’ve learned over the course of their time and envisioning scenarios to apply it.

He turns on a holographic television screen and lets it hover near the window for white noise, but a familiar voice grabs his attention and makes him look up from his closed cycle life support system diagrams.

A woman, skin and hair impeccable and dressed in only the finest attire, was being filmed entering her house— a house Wooyoung knows well.

“Who is that?” San asks when he notices Wooyoung distracted by the broadcast.

“Yeosang’s mother,” he sighs, listening in as the anchor explains what the news related to her is.

“Mrs. Kang, well known businesswoman and an influential shareholder in IPF, claims to have insider information on the Horizon Team ATZ, of which her son Yeosang is a member. She made a controversial statement earlier this morning that she believes the accelerated training time of the team will enable her and her husband to migrate to the Citadel early next year before choosing to offer no further comment.”

The screen flicks to footage of her standing right there in the IPF headquarters lobby offering a statement, looking much younger than she is as always. “Training is going very well, and Team ATZ is sure to rise in the ranks,” she says confidently. “My Yeosang has head knowledge and field experience now that he’s working directly with IPF staff, and I can promise you I’ll soon be launching new products from space!”

The press instantly bombards her with questions, and she shrinks away from them as her bodyguards usher her out.

“Mrs, Kang, is it true no one was injured in the test plane crash?”

“Can you confirm who the leader is of Team ATZ?”

“Why have you been given permission to break IPF’s no-contact rule during the trainee period?”

“Is it true something is wrong with the Citadel?”

“Would you be able to set up an interview with Yeosang—”

Wooyoung shuts it off before it grates on his ears any longer.

San is looking at him with a muted panic on his face, cheeks flushed and studying forgotten. “I thought Yeosang cut her off.”

“He did,” Wooyoung insists, returning to his diagrams. “I’m sure she’s just causing a scene for the press. Yeosang doesn’t need to know about this right now, it’ll only worry him.”

San drops his shoulders and gives him a nod. There’s no use troubling Yeosang with it, and when he returns from his exam he goes straight to sleep again.

As everyone leaves and returns, the tense atmosphere doesn’t change. There’s no instant confirmation they passed, and there’s nothing to do but wait around and try to rest.

When Wooyoung and San go to their testing room, they go hand in hand. For the joint assessment portion of the test, they fly through their activities with ease, and when they’re separated for individual assessment, Wooyoung can only hope San’s nerves don’t get the best of him.

It’s different, testing with a clear goal in mind. It was always about survival, but this time he’s more prepared.

When Junyoung and Youngseok return, the last two to be examined, Soojin rewards them with delivered dinner and a movie on the big living room holoscreen. No one says much, but no one needs to.

They made it together this far.

___

For the second day in a row, Yunho wakes to San shaking him. “Why? What is it?” He mutters, trying to burrow back under the blankets and escape the recycled winter air.

“Medical testing starts in an hour,” his roommate responds tiredly, wandering away to the bathroom and leaving Yunho to wrap himself up in blankets and follow him.

“We only finished exams yesterday, can’t they just let us sleep?” He whines through the toothpaste while he brushes his teeth.

“They have to run all the diagnostic tests one after the other so they can deliberate for the rest of the week,” San explains, wiping off his mouth and cleaning out his toothbrush. “That way if someone gets removed from the team, no one knows which test they failed.”

It makes sense, but still it means Yunho is rushing to his retractable closet and dressing quickly, bitter over losing an extra hour or two of sleep after yesterday’s exhaustion.

“At least you don’t have to deal with Professor Pyo anymore,” San points out from where he’s pulling on a loose T shirt. “I know you hated his guts.”

Yunho chuckles at the memories of frustrating classes and moving targets and zips his jacket all the way up to his chin. “Aren’t you going to eat anything?” He asks, following again as San calls the elevator and quickly shakes his head.

“I don’t want to risk losing it all over Nurse Bae’s uniform.”

They board the tram and Yunho blinks. San had mentioned a few times how he gets sick with nerves, recounting the story of how he met Jongho on the day of the first exam.

“But this test is easy!” He laughs reassuringly. “You don’t even have to do anything.”

San flashes a fake smile that disappears the second he turns away, worrying Yunho.

For some reason, he’s acting strange.

“You don’t think they’ll fail us for not sticking to our diets, do you?” San changes the subject smoothly.

“I doubt it,” Yunho answers lightly as they step out into the medical wing. “Besides, Soojin authorised the junk food last night.”

The conversation fizzled out at the sight of all the nurses lined up to welcome them at the doorway with stern faces and lifeless eyes, and Nurse Bae escorts them over to a scanning pad.

“Go ahead and step up for assessment,” she deadpans, motioning to San who sighs and does as he’s told.

The light circling the bottom of the pad rotates and spirals up, spewing basic holographic statistics, such as height and weight, as it scans him.

“Arm, please,” Bae asks without even glancing at the patient, holding out her hand until San obliges, and sticking one of his veins unapologetically when he does.

After a moment, blood begins to travel to a second machine through the tube she’s inserted and San tenses as it displays results.

Bae looks up from the pre-existing documentation for San on her wristband and compares it to the new information from the scan. Her face gives nothing away, but San is visibly sweating from where he stands rigid on the pad.

The rotating light changes colours a few times as it switches the type of scan and inputs data to the hologram before turning off.

“That’s it?” Yunho asks from the seat he’s waiting in, surprised.

The nurse nods and allows San to step down, but continues to stare at his results, as if waiting for something to happen.

After a moment, she minimises them and pulls up Yunho’s file.

“Alright, next. Choi San, you may go inform the next room that we’re ready for them.”

San breathes a shaky exhale and hurries out of the medical wing, leaving Yunho to stand awkwardly on the scanner and wonder what’s going on with him.

That might’ve been the longest he’s gone without talking outside of scheduled work and rest times, and even more strangely, he was extremely concerned with his results.

Surely he knows his own medical history… so what could he be worried about?

San checks the schedule on his wristband and pokes his head into Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s room to let them know they’re being summoned before collapsing on his bed.

Yunho is definitely suspicious of him.

San saw the way he was looking at him and he tried so hard to be calm and collected, but the machine paused for a moment and reviewed the information twice because it detected something in its algorithm that San had thought he’d accounted for earlier…

But it didn’t flash a warning, and that’s a good sign at least.

If all goes well, his tests will come back clean like everyone else’s and they’ll head to the Citadel together as planned.

Yunho returns and doesn’t say anything more about the situation, whether he has questions or not, simply switching on a game and playing solo for a while before San joins.

Soon Yunho, the source of San’s worries, has somehow melted those worries away with his cheery disposition and the excitement with which he engages the competition.

“I’ll invite Jongho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang!” He announces when their round is finished, and soon it’s a small party all yelling and furiously attacking with their holo controllers, having so much fun even Seonghwa can’t find the heart to tell them to quiet down.

Junyoung and Youngseok drop by when their testing is finished, and San is strategising a way to coax Mingi and Hongjoong out to at least watch them play their ultimate championship battle when an alert for a Horizon team launch appears in unison on all their wristbands. This time, it’s for two teams; BPT and TBZ both.

Which means the ten of them will be the only trainees left in the complex.

The game is shut off and the members file out in the direction of the hangars, but Yunho drops by Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room as a detour.

“You think you can come?” San hears him say, and there’s a quiet answer from Hongjoong before he appears, eyes downcast, and grips Yunho’s hand as the three of them move towards the elevator.

Come to think of it, Hongjoong is rarely seen during a launch, and Yunho, being both extremely considerate and acutely aware of everything going on, appears to know something about it.

San’s relieved to know he and Seonghwa aren’t the only ones keeping secrets.

Yunho stays by Hongjoong’s side the entire launch viewing and San has to consider confiding in him.

He seems trustworthy, and San very much wants the comfort he sees being given to Hongjoong for himself.

But some secrets are best left unspoken, so he turns back to the window and watches the rocket disappear above the clouds.

___

It’s a few days before they hear anything from the PCC. Mingi enjoys the rest, but goes back to the gym after two days of it.

He quite appreciates his virtual pilates class, and the AI instructor has an amusing sense of humour.

Jongho is out of the dorms more and more lately, and Mingi doesn’t really mind. It gives him time to think and to lay stretched out on the rug they cover the metal floor with, projecting those old sappy romance films on the ceiling’s smooth surface and giggling at them in secret.

It feels like a vacation, only Mingi doesn’t really remember having those back in school, except for the ones he and Yunho took without permission, sneaking into abandoned apartment complexes and freerunning with extra air canisters strapped to them.

News finally arrives just after Jongho one night when Mingi and Seonghwa are relaxing together, the quiet hiss of the door closing and the younger boy’s muted sigh rousing Mingi from bed. Seonghwa sits up next to him, confused, and realises it’s his cue to exit.

“What is it?” Mingi asks, peeling off his skin mask and giving it to Seonghwa to take with him, because he feels silly keeping it on while Jongho has such a straight face.

“The archives are a dead end,” the younger boy explains after the door shuts and they’re alone, kicking off his shoes and sitting next to Mingi on the bed. “The only place she comes up is under some file called the Utopia Project, and it’s not just encrypted, the data is almost completely stored on the Citadel.”

There’s no need to ask who the woman in question is— or was. Mingi leans forward out of his warm blanket cocoon and tries to connect this information to what he already knows.

“She was an esteemed member of the Horizon Project by the time she disappeared. Do you think she was recruited for an extra top secret mission?”

“It would explain why you found other team members on Citadel footage with other aliases,” Jongho agrees. “Maybe she had to go undercover?”

“But surely at least your grandfather would know?” Mingi mentions, shifting so Jongho can display his timeline in the space in front of them.

“I’m not sure,” Jongho admits, adding the words ‘Project Utopia’ to the list of unexplained variables. “He wouldn’t talk about it either way.”

There’s a pause as Mingi thinks back to the first time Jongho showed him this research.

“You said at the beginning that the Horizon Project was just a means to an end for you, that you never intended to get in just so you could reach Rank 3 for your family and move to the Citadel.”

Jongho nods, remembering, but doesn’t interrupt to correct him.

“So what will you do now? The intel you need is up there, on the Citadel.”

Jongho cracks a smile and glances over at him. “Even if it wasn’t… I think I’ve become invested in this team. I’ll go to space, and I’ll make this work. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Mingi laughs and squeezes him in a hug, weight lifted from him now that he doesn’t have to worry about saying goodbye and then claiming to know nothing when the authorities ask why Jongho disappeared in the middle of the night.

“I wish we could’ve made it home in the fall on that test plane,” Jongho sighs reluctantly, switching off the hologram. “I might’ve asked Grandfather if there was more he wasn’t telling me.”

Before Mingi can answer, an alert pops up on their wristbands simultaneously.

PCC Announcement, it reads. Kim Hongjoong has been chosen as the leader of Team ATZ. All members of Horizon Team ATZ have passed and will proceed to the Citadel. Congratulations.

Mingi and Jongho gasp and run out of the room without even looking at each other, nearly colliding with Junyoung and Youngseok as they exit their own room in the direction of Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s.

There he is, sitting on the floor where he was painting a pair of old shoes, but the brush has fallen from his fingers and landed on the metal surface in a splash of colour.

Hongjoong looks up at them with tears in his eyes and laughs before his voice is muffled in the immediate hug enveloping him.

Wooyoung and Seonghwa appear in the doorway next with drinks and congratulations, and then the rest of the team— Yunho, San, and Yeosang— sweaty from an afternoon at the gym.

Hongjoong tries to turn and hide his tears from them, but San pulls him back into the joyful huddle and Mingi is so happy that he’s crying tears of his own, basking in the joy of a ten-person group hug crammed into a tiny metal bunker that barely fits half of them and not even noticing it. This is what he’s been missing, and it feels like the last chance to enjoy it before duty calls from the Citadel.

All ten wristbands chime again with a follow up message, and everyone pulls back to read it.

Please report at 1300 tomorrow for a press conference fitting. The launch is scheduled for Christmas Day.

“Interesting,” Youngseok hums, looking around at their casual attire. “I guess we aren’t well dressed enough with our own clothes.”

A timely beeping from the kitchen startles them all and Wooyoung stiffens in horror before bolting out in a streak of panic.

“The food is burning!”

Soon the smoke clears and he and Seonghwa manage to save the meal, dedicating it to the official end of the rivalry, and a blushing Hongjoong lets them fill his cup and pat him on the back until curfew.

“Your mother will be proud,” Mingi whispers gleefully as they separate for bed.

“Yours, too,” Hongjoong answers with a smile, and Mingi goes to sleep dreaming about his mother.

She’s a busy woman, sensible and traditional but very warm and loving, and over the course of staying at the IPF headquarters, Mingi has found himself missing her calming presence.

She will be proud and sad, he realises as he drifts off into dreams. Because I’ll have to leave her and Father for a while longer.

Jongho thought the fitting would be fun but so far it’s been little more than a pair of stylists throwing ideas and fabrics at them as the challenge of melding personal styles into a single group image presents itself.

Wooyoung is busy arguing with one of them about the number of shirt buttons he’s permitted to leave undone, and Jongho is so distracted by it that it takes a couple tries for the other stylist to get his attention.

“How do you like this shade of green? See, Kang Yeosang is wearing it too so you won’t stand out too much,” the man says, and Jongho sighs and allows it.

“I can do it myself,” he informs the man, taking the tie from him and demonstrating with a perfect knot.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to breathe in that thing?” Mingi chuckles from next to him, clearly having a mental battle with himself over how many buttons on his deep blue shirt to leave open.

“Some of us prefer to dress modestly,” Jongho fires back with a smirk. Apparently, he’s the odd one out, with the exception of Seonghwa who’s having an extra frilly collar shoved at him to ‘accentuate his long neck’ or whatever.

The stylist approves and moves on to discuss Hongjoong’s hair with him, and Jongho is ready to take his leave when Soojin sticks her head in the doorway with an armload of packages.

“Delivery from your parents!” She calls and places the packages in their laps, not bothering to answer the flood of questions until everyone has theirs. “It’s standard for the Horizon team to receive an item as a token of remembrance before leaving, since you aren’t allowed contact with your families.”

Hurriedly, Jongho unwraps his and pries the little box open, fingers closing around something made of porcelain.

He’s surprised to see that it’s a little painted bird, one of the decorative ones his grandparents used to display in their china cabinet. Jongho searches the box, turning it upside down and shaking it, but nothing else falls out.

He had been hoping for a message or an answer, and instead he’d gotten this strange little bird that he hadn’t even seen more than once or twice before in his life.

Sighing, he places it back and looks over at Mingi, who’s pulling plate after plate of home cooked food out of his box, the largest package of all of them. There’s a bittersweet sparkle in his eye and he reads the message that comes with it aloud so Jongho can hear, “Because I don’t trust them to feed you well up there, at least not any better than me. Love, Mom.”

His voice shakes on the last line, and Jongho squeezes his hand reassuringly. It would’ve been nice to get an explanation for his own gift at least, but clearly Mingi is very touched by what he’s received and that’s enough to make Jongho happy.

“We can bring food to the Citadel, right?” He asks Soojin, just to be sure. She approaches from where she’s collecting wrapping paper and rolls her red lips before deciding, “Yes, we’ll allow it.”

It’s a victory that tides them over the jittery and nerve wracking wait to the press conference itself, when they know they’ll be broadcast for all to see, including the parents they wish to thank.

Hongjoong is every bit the charming and capable leader the PCC knew he could be when they chose him, leading their introduction and directing the questions instead of simply leaving it to Soojin, hair newly dyed white again to cover up his roots.

The press is very interested in Yunho and Mingi’s story as childhood friends and they offer some small tidbits without ever letting loose the fact that Yeosang and Wooyoung also knew each other prior. Mingi nervously bounces his leg under the table the entire time, and Jongho is thankful when the reporters move on, knowing how anxious he is.

Jongho recounts meeting San in the library bathroom and earns some relatability points happily, pleased to have at least one potential positive headline before they move on to the difficult questions.

“Yeosang,” one woman begins eagerly. “Your mother has been claiming in the news for some time now that as a major IPF shareholder, she deserves to be granted Citadel access sooner than your already accelerated schedule will allow, can you comment on that?”

His eyes widen slightly before he composes himself, barely a blip in his stately features as he explains, “I’d rather not. We haven’t spoken lately but I would assume the normal procedures apply.” Clearly, he didn’t know about it.

Soojin offers an encouraging nod from the front row and Hongjoong asks for the next question, removing the pressure from a tangibly downcast Yeosang.

A man near the back is chosen and tries to pick an interesting segue. “Speaking of Citadel access! San, your sister Haneul was on the Horizon Team a few years back, giving your family the chance to move to the Citadel sooner, since she’ll reach Rank 3 and grant them citizenship before your teammates do so for their families. Is there any tension within the team over this fact?”

Jongho is affronted and ready to give the man a piece of his mind on San’s behalf, but Wooyoung steps in before any of them can open their mouths. “Actually I don’t think any of us even considered this before your question,” he answers swiftly with a dry laugh. “As a Horizon Team, we want a better life for everyone, there’s no bad blood over opportunity here. San’s family is our family too.”

Reluctantly, the man sits while someone else cooks up the next question.

“Citizens of Earth have for some time now begun questioning the efficiency of the Horizon Project after so many years and so few habitable planets. How will the progress of your team be different than in previous years?” It’s an older man, clearly experienced in the business of getting public figures to slip up in interviews, but luckily this question is one IPF is prepared for, so to fill his speaking quota for the day, Jongho answers it according to the already waiting wristband prompt.

“The survival of humanity is a very complex issue. Even as we blast off this afternoon, we don’t know yet what’s in store. Every Horizon team has contributed different things and brought us a step closer. Whether we find new worlds or make progress cohabitating alien ones, our team will make its mark like all the others.”

Hongjoong looks very impressed and shoots him a smile before the next reporter decides to pick on him.

“Hongjoong, rumour has it you were selected to lead by forfeit, is that true?”

The smile instantly falls and their leader tilts his head in disbelief. “You opened your question with ‘rumour has it’,” he scoffs. “I think you can assume the correct answer. It’s false, the process was the same for me as any other Horizon leader.”

Even as he sits back, problem assuaged, a follow-up question flies at the group from the same person. “But you have to admit, your training time was accelerated due to the vaguely described ‘situation on the Citadel.’ You don’t feel unprepared to be debuting so soon?”

“Our whole lives, we’ve done nothing but prepare,” Seonghwa speaks up, voice quiet but intense. “We’ll serve where we’re ordered to— a couple extra months won’t matter years from now.”

Sensing they’ll get nothing else out of him, the press direct some tamer questions at the younger members before a woman in the front row offers a strange closing query that none of them are ready for.

“You don’t find it at all ironic? The fact that there are no horizons in space?”

It leaves a bad feeling behind, with everyone unsure whether the reporter is serious or joking around, and Jongho is glancing at the other end of the table in the hopes someone else will answer it. Mingi bounces his knee again, so Jongho places a calming hand on it.

Soojin stands and interrupts. “That’s time, I’m sorry. The shuttle awaits and we are on a tight schedule.”

Bodyguards escort the team offstage and onto the tram, heading for the changing rooms while Soojin insists “No more questions!”

There’s just a moment for them to catch their breath while they suit up, but Jongho continues to think about the final question, wondering what prompted it and what the implication is.

“Are you ready to go to space?” Mingi asks deviously, sticking his head over the top of the changing stall and dodging when Jongho throws a dress shirt at him. He seems more at ease now that the cameras are no longer directed at him.

“I was born ready,” Jongho answers, putting on his uniform and stepping out to meet Mingi face to face.

“Let’s do this.”

___

Hongjoong runs his fingers along the red detail of his new uniform’s sleeve. He’ll have to get used to wearing it, moving in it, living up to what it represents.

All he can do for the time being is run over the liftoff procedures in his head over and over while they wait for ground control. He knows them inside and out, and he’s spent almost ten years preparing for this moment.

He can’t fail now.

Wooyoung sighs from next to him and runs a hand through his hair again. It’s a habit of his, Hongjoong has noticed, but he’s doing it more frequently now that he’s nervous.

“What did your dad send you?” Hongjoong asks to distract him. He was paying attention during their fitting when the care packages came in, and knowing Wooyoung’s home life, it must’ve been a mix of emotions receiving something sentimental and reminiscent of that difficult time.

“More glow stars to stick to the ceiling of wherever I move next,” Wooyoung answers with a smile before dropping his head to hide his embarrassment. “And a long letter sort of... apologising. How about you?”

Hongjoong’s hand flies to his neck, where the cool metal is hidden beneath his uniform but still there in secret.

“My mother sent me her butterfly necklace,” he explains. “I wish she wouldn’t have, I know it’s precious to her. She wants to work in the butterfly nursery houses on the Citadel when she gets there, because there aren’t any on Earth anymore.”

There’s an amiable silence with only the noise of the hangars providing an ambiance.

“Sorry for being hard on you before,” Wooyoung mutters. “I didn’t know about your dad.”

“No, but I guess everyone does by now,” Hongjoong sighs, fiddling with the straps on his uniform. “It’s just hard talking about it, so maybe it’s better this way.”

“If it makes you feel any better, nothing in the past could change the way I— we— see you. If anything, it shows how strong you are, to have come here and been a pilot in spite of that,” Wooyoung insists gently, and Hongjoong wonders how he can be so encouraging at a time when he could with good reason be focused on himself. “I can relate to only having one parent around, although I guess it’s not the same.”

“No, if anything, you had it harder Wooyoung,” Hongjoong answers quietly. “You only had Yeosang to really support you. But now you have all of us.”

Wooyoung looks up and smiles, a few fond tears brimming in his eye. “Yeah, I guess we all have each other now.”

No more secrets.

The past can stay there, Hongjoong has decided. It’s the future they need to care about.

“Team ATZ to the shuttle,” a voice comes over the PA at long last before repeating itself. “Team ATZ to the shuttle for liftoff.”

With confident steps they make their way up the ramp and onto the spacecraft where all the luggage is packed and ready to go— their entire lives boarding with them in farewell of everything they’ve ever known— before finding their seats and running final checks.

Each procedure has been tested to perfection, but this launch is for the world to see, which means it’s the only one that counts.

“Will you miss it?” Wooyoung asks from the seat behind Hongjoong, nodding out the side window to the city visible below them.

It’s a dusky, dirty place full of sad people trampling over each other in a race to survive.

“The grass has been fake as long as I’ve been alive,” Hongjoong answers with a sigh. “This planet is nothing but plastic and wrought glass and holograms. I won’t miss leaving it behind.”

Soojin makes her way into the cockpit and addresses the team before buckling up.

“Alright, boys. Well... you’re not boys anymore, not after today. I’m your only passenger and you can pretend I’m not here if you want, but make sure you land in Hanger B10 where I’ll be presenting you to the Citadel personnel.”

They all answer affirmatively as the countdown begins.

“Say your goodbyes,” Soojin prompts them from the back. “Unless you plan on returning to teach future teams, this is the last time you’ll set foot on Earth.”

Hongjoong can see Wooyoung bite his lip and glance out the window again in the reflection on the glass. It’s hard for him to go through with leaving when he apparently just made peace with his father, the reason he swore he’d escape in the first place.

“We’re going to save them, not abandon them,” Hongjoong reminds him, hearing a few other agreeing murmurs as the countdown finishes and he places his hands on the controls.

There’s no fiery flashback, no paralysing fear. He’s ready for this.

“We have liftoff!”

___

Taglist: (Let me know if you would like to be added): @mooneylooney1​ @hwashinestar​ @delphinium3000​ @kpop-choco​

Recommended listening: Dazzling Light by ATEEZ

A/N: Volume One is complete!!!!!!!! That's right, another installment is on the way where our heroes' journeys will continue on the Citadel. Any predictions about what's coming? Go ahead and leave a comment, I'd much appreciate it <3 (I know I’m speaking into the void but someone is reading this)

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[daddystevee]

The Only Exception

(Steve Harrington x reader)

Bleh i feel like this has potential but like i feel like i absolutely butchered it.. :( but i redeemed myself in the end i think. Heh were gonna pretend that Paramore was a thing in the 80s because why the fuck not. This fic was written with the help of tiktok aus and The Only Exception by paramore heh.

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: a few curse words, a small panic attack situation, mention of a gun, and lots of angst spelling and bad grammar??

Summary: an AU in which everyone has a soulmate, on your 20th birthday a number pops up on your wrist telling you how far away you are from them. Reader has a hard time with love and believing in good things associated with love.

><

Soulmates are a tricky thing. Growing up you were told that soulmates are supposed to be someone that just gets you. A connection of minds, a mutual respect, an unconditional love and a total understanding. It was about being yourself and knowing, not only that person is following and understanding your thoughts, but is right there with you, side by side. 

But in reality, soulmates were determined by a couple of numbers that would pop on your wrists, telling you how far apart the two of you were on your 20th birthday. You weren’t sure who came up with the idea, but you hoped they realized how dumb it was. Sometimes there were people who really wouldn’t ever find their other half.

When you were younger, you never really realized how much your parents would argue. But what you did notice was that your mom and dad’s numbers on their wrists weren’t at 0 or at least in the lower single digits, your moms was 358 and your dads was 690. Meaning that they weren’t really soulmates, just two people who put up with each other's bullshit for no reason. Making you believe that you didn’t necessarily need your soulmate to be “happy”.

As you got older, you started to see the major flaws in your parents relationship. Your parents were constantly yelling at each other for no reason. Everything changed the day your father pulled a gun on both you and your mother. After that, your mother packed up everything the two of you had and ran, as far away as she could with your father constantly knowing how far away you were. 

From that day forward, you vowed to never let your guard down. Never letting yourself fall in love and to forever believe that no matter what number popped up on your wrist, soulmates didn’t exist.

><

After running from your biological father for what seemed like years, the two of you ended up in a boring little town called Hawkins, Indiana. Where you would start your life over for the first time at the age of 12. Over the next 5 years you would learn that Hawkins was not a boring town because at the beginning of your junior year of high school, at 17 years old you would get sucked into this dark place that looked just like home, but it wasn’t.

You somehow survive, running from a scary creature that would open its face and eat anything in its path. No matter what you did, it seemed like you could never run away from this thing. You would experience this insane encounter alongside a 12 year old, who you would learn is named Will Byers. After what felt like months you would finally be rescued. 

You would eventually go back to school to finish out your junior year of high school, but not without making friends with Will and a bunch of other 12 year olds. Along with the kids came automatic friendships with the older siblings as well, including Steve.

A year after your first experience with the Upside Down everything was fine and normal, you thought that it was all over. Boy were you wrong, Will started to have these visions of the alternate universe the two of you had been trapped in.

You were fine but knew this creature and that world better than anyone else, so as much as you really didn’t want to, you opted to help out as much as you could staying close to the other kids and really just making sure that they were safe. They were your family after all. 

As the battle went on you grew closer to Steve Harrington, learning to call him your best friend. He was the only one who you knew well enough and could get you to open up and let your guard down a little bit, but you had to tough it out because you made a promise to yourself and you had to keep it. You couldn’t take that risk. The boy had some sort of soft spot in your heart and you refused to believe it and would never let anyone know about it.

><

May 29th, 1985 was a sad day for everyone, it was the day you would be moving away from everything you had. All of the kids, Nancy, Jonathan, and your best friend Steve. Steve, the boy who you had grown up beside, the boy you fought inter-dimensional monsters with.

You were driving across the country to go to the University of Southern California. Saying that this wasn’t an easy choice would be a lie. You knew exactly what you were doing, running away from your fears, that was all you knew how to do but you knew that if you didn’t leave now you would never get out of there. You always have to put your safety and mental health first, and that’s exactly what you were doing.

“Promise you’ll call every day?” Steve asks you, pulling you into a hug. 

“Only if you promise to answer.” you say with a sad laugh, you never planned on ever calling home.

>< 

Here you were, in Los Angeles, California. 2,105 miles away from home. An entire year later and you still hadn’t called home, if that's what you would even call it. You refused to associate yourself with that place ever again and had completely wiped that section of your life from your memories. A voice in the back of your mind was constantly calling you back, but you always ignored it.You were starting your life completely over for the second time, at 19 years old, in California. You lived in a two bedroom apartment with your new best friend and her ‘soulmate’. While you were happy for them, you couldn’t help but be jealous of their happiness.

><

It was your 20th birthday, and you had no plan on looking to see how far your soulmate was from you. You didn’t care, all soulmate’s were shit and ‘happily ever after’s’ didn’t actually exist. You planned on just getting drunk with your friend and forgetting about life for a night.

“So I was thinking we could go to a karaoke bar tonight? How does that sound?” your best friend Logan asked you walking out of her and her boyfriend’s shared room

“I mean I suck at singing but-”

“Yeah, but being drunk makes everyone a great singer” 

“I guess so. Just us right?” you asked, while Logan and her boyfriend were cute you honestly hated third wheeling it always made you feel some sort of way. Jealous maybe?

“Of course! Now let's get you ready! You never know you might just bump into someone special” she says wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yeah, not gonna happen” you say unamused, rolling your eyes while walking off to your room to get ready.

><

“Come on Y/N, you’ve gotta sing at least one song while we're here.” your best friend slurred while pulling you along behind her, obviously too drunk for her own good. You ended up not drinking as much as you had planned, but the two of you had to get home somehow.

“I’m not drunk enough, you might be but I am most certainly...” but before you could object anymore she had already chosen a song and shoved a microphone in your hand pushing you onto the stage. “.. what the fuck? I don’t even know what song this is?”

“Yes you do! I hear you singing it in your room all hours of the night..” she says stumbling off into the crowd. 

The beginning chords to the song start to play over the speakers and you know exactly what song it is. You looked down at the microphone in your hand and refused to look up at the audience, yet the words came out of your mouth naturally, as easy as breathing. No one truly knew your story, except one person. That person was Steve Harrington. The one who always brought butterflies to your stomach even though you told yourself that this was wrong. 

“Maybe I know, somewhere deep in my soul, that love never lasts.”

You had beat yourself up over it for months, you refused to let him get in the way. You were never going to be happy, that was just how this worked. 

“But you are, the only exception”

Maybe there were exceptions in the world and you just weren’t lucky enough to believe in that shit. 

“You are, the only exception”

Something in your gut told you to look up at the crowd and expected to look for Logan among all of the people. 

“You are, the only exception”

What you didn’t expect to see was a familiar set of brown eyes looking at you from the back of the room.

“You are, the only exception”

You suddenly felt like it was impossible to breathe but you were still singing out the words from your heart. 

“Oh, and I'm on my way to believing.”

As you sang the last words of the song you dropped the mic, making a break for the side exit door, not thinking about your drunk friend at this moment. You just had to get out of there without having to talk to him. You didn’t get very far before you felt a hand grab onto your wrist,

“Let go of me!” you tried to jerk away from him but his grip was strong. You turned to him and attempted to pull his hand off of your wrist all while avoiding his eyes. “What’s your problem?” you ask frustrated.

“What’s my problem? What’s your problem?” he says, you stop trying to pull away and he lets go of your arm you could feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face. “You left, and none of us heard from you for a year. The kids literally thought you were dead.”

“Yeah well-” you say with a shrug but are suddenly at a loss for words.

“Yeah well what? You promised you’d call. I waited and waited and waited for months and got nothing.” he says, and without looking at him you could tell that he was really upset about it.

“Well…” you say while thinking of a bullshit excuse, “I suck at keeping promises, so I don’t know why you’d hold me to it.”

“Promises?” he scoffs, “You suck at keeping promises? Yet keep an eight year promise to yourself?”

“That’s different.”

“Y/N, you've made plenty of promises to me in the past and always kept them. I don’t know what was so different about this one. All you had to do was make one simple phone call.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to call you. Did you think about that? Maybe I wanted nothing to do with you guys again!” you yell at him, “How the hell did you find me anyways?”

It went completely silent. You could hear a pen drop in the parking lot.

“I- I don’t really think that, that's important..”

“Steve, how the hell did you find me?” you ask finally looking up at him for the first time in a year.

“Well, I know where you moved to.. Because you know you told me what college you were going to before you left.” 

“Yes, but how did you know exactly where to find me?”

Steve reaches down to pull up his sleeves of his jean jacket to show you the numbers on his wrist. You refuse to look at it, continuing to look up at his face shaking your head in denial.

“No, there’s no way. It’s not possible.” 

“Have you looked at your wrist yet today?”

“No, I told myself that it wasn’t important and that it didn’t matter.”

“Look at it then.” he says grabbing your hand. But as he does this you quickly pull your hand away from him. grabbing onto your wrist.

The voice in the back of your head tells you not to do it, but your heart says otherwise. For whatever reason you listen to your heart for the first time in a while and slowly pull up the mesh material that was covering your arms. Your eyes are squeezed shut, but when you know you’ve got your wrist uncovered you open your eyes and look down. Tears are suddenly streaming down your face, sure enough there was a perfectly placed ‘0’ on both of your wrists. 

“No- soulmates they- they aren’t real.” you start to stutter over your words “This isn’t going to work. I know how this ends, and it’s not good.” you start to hyperventilate thinking about your parents. Knowing that everything went wrong and there was no good to this. 

Steve places his hands on your shoulders to calm you down, “Hey, relax. It's okay, you're going to be okay.” He slowly pulled you into a hug.

“Is this- a dream?” you ask in between short breaths pulling him closer to you.

“It kinda feels like it but no, it's not.” he says resting his chin on top of your head.

The two of you stood there for a few moments taking in this new feeling. 

“I’m tired of running.”

“Then stop running, and walk.”

“But what if I stumble and fall?”

“Then, I’‘ll be there to catch you.”

After that night you ended up leaving USC and transferring to a local college near right outside of Hawkins. The kids were ecstatic to see you when you got home, pulling you in for a giant group hug.

“Don’t you ever leave us like that again.” Mike says to you  

“Yeah, we thought you died!” Dustin says dramatically squeezing you tighter.

“Well, I can promise you one thing right now.” you say looking to Steve, letting a small smile fall onto your lips, “I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” 

“Steve, how did you find her?” Lucas asks as he pulls away. Steve looks at you and you both bull up your sleeves showing them your numbers being at ‘0’ and they all look between the two of you.

“Ewwww, they’re sOuLmAtEs” Dustin yells out, a taller dirty blond walks over and smacks him on the back of the head. 

“Shut up Dufus, let Dingus have his moment.” the girl says already knowing the story

“I don’t know who you are, but I love you already.”

“I’m Robin” she says sticking out her hand, but you were the happiest you had been in a long time so you just reached out and pulled her into a hug.

“I’m Y/N.” everyone stood there looking at the two of you before bursting into a fit of giggles, which turned into pointless laughter, making everyone double over.

Everyone’s story was different, and there was a lot of work to be done on yours but Steve was going to be there every step of the way. To show you that not everything was perfect, but everyone had their chance at a ‘happily ever after’.

[12amys]

FOLKLORE THIRD LISTEN NOTES

the 1

how awesome is it to have been right about this song being about the one who got away?

it sets up a very romantic theme for the album and i don’t know how to explain it

i really love this production it’s very dreamy and tailored (don’t make the pun) to my interests

the verses on this song and the imagery they evoke are perfect god

the way this feels so hard feelings esque… the bus line and yeah

can we discuss “the greatest loves of all time are over now”

i think the only opener that beats this for me is state of grace?

persist and resist the temptation…

okay the more i listen to this the more i’m convinced it’s taylor reflecting on everything that happened in this album years later and reminiscing one day (don’t make the pun)

her vocals on this are so soothing i don’t know how to explain it

cardigan  

i was really afraid i wouldn’t like this because of the title but i love it

the imagery really reminds me of poetry can we have folklore poems

i think it’s the chorus (starts with dancing in your levi’s) that i really adore

a friend to all is a friend to none taylor swift said if you are neutral in situations of injustice you have taken the side of the oppressor (no joke this is what i thought of the first time)

“heartbeat on the high line once in twenty lifetimes” might be my favourite lyric

the music video says so much about the album as a whole in terms of the pain

TO KISS IN CARS AND DOWNTOWN BARS WAS ALL WE NEEDED??? excuse me that’s literally a perfect lyric

the train comment this has such a gothic romance feel to it and i love the line peter losing wendy

when you are young they assume you know nothing maybe that’s my favourite lyric

CAUSE I KNEW EVERYTHING WHEN I WAS YOUNG no one talk to me

the front porch line has possible parallels to mad woman?

okay but if this isn’t narrated by betty i’ll eat my own foot

i feel like the hook has real potential to be cheesy / childish but she avoids it so well bless

also the production on this song? a literal dream. she picked the style of production i like best i swear to god thank you miss swift

the last great american dynasty

the beginning of this sounds a bit like 929 to me, but it’s very unique from the first two songs on the album and i like it a lot

okay but the storytelling in this first part of this song is unparalleled

she sounds like the town gossip and you know what? i love it

this is also a really dance-able song to me

blaming the woman… how victorian esque

the chorus is flawless from the lyrics to the vocals to the beat i really love that beat! is that a drum i don’t know music

taylor swift said bitch good for her

the way she says “boys” is really neat

“and losing on card game bets” vs “back when we were card sharks playing games i thought you were leading me on” literally no one is allowed to look at me

again i was dancing to this hard on the first listen because it’s amazing and i’m also seeing the lucky one / starlight vibes but it’s better than both those songs? how does she do it

AND THEN IT WAS BOUGHT BY ME??? i lost my mind?? also this reinforces my water as authenticity theory because she references midnight sea whatever i’ll expand later

i had a marvelous time ruining everything,,, maybe she’s the narrator maybe she’s betty like elizabeth taylor burton to this taylor,,,

her voice in this song is seriously amazing

exile ft. bon iver

this feels like a natural sequel to the last time but it has huge getaway car vibes thematically

okay a lot of people have said this is a haylor song but i see it as taylor’s evelyn hugo fanfiction and you can’t change my mind on that

she put a whole man on this song and it’s still super gay

also i don’t mind bon iver’s voice as much as gary lightbody but still gah (also i had no idea who he was before this album that’s on being born in 2005

)i think i’ve seen this film before but i didn’t like the ending… don’t know why this line hits so hard but it literally does no one touch me

the ooh vocalizations are really cool i am again obsessed with the production

god i just love the lyrics on this so much can you guys believe how amazing

i just want to discuss how this entire thing is evelyn hugo fanfictionso i’m leaving out the side door is thematically important to the album i don’t know how to explain this right now but i’m sure i’m right about this

walked a very thin line vs literally all of mirrorball

i gave so many signs no one touch me! we only know the version of someone they have chosen to show us! there will be no more explanation there will just be reputation

the homeland defending line is amazing i can’t get myself together apparently“i’ve seen this film before so i’m leaving out the side door” maybe the best lyric

the outro for this song is literally flawless i just want to ask taylor what was going through her mind when she made this album please

this song is so sad i don’t even want to discuss it i just want to cry

my tears ricochet

love her getting some sat vocab in spelling really is fun

the intro for this song is so pretty i love

if i’m on fire you’ll be made of ashes too vs the room is on fire invisible smoke

when i said taylor was painting herself as one of the heroes that die all alone i wasn’t kidding!

the way she says loved on this song is really appealing to me

this being the track five makes me super emotional i love this song

i didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,,, you’re the hero flying around saving face,,, if i’m dead to you why are you at the wake,,,, god these lyrics just cut super hard okay! 

i feel super personally called out by this goddamn song…

some to throw… some to make a diamond ring after the marriage fanfare

what a ghostly scene / i pace like a ghost

the concept of angrily haunting your past lover because they screwed you over is so amazing

used to tell me i was brave because i fought you

i think this is our first properly angry track five since like dear john and i want to put my head on the desk and start sobbing but i won’t

the halloween vibes of this are sending me this is so perfect

“i’m screaming at the sky” “stolen lullaby” amazing lyrics and also her vocals i don’t want to talk about how emotionally attached i am to this album because i am

so the battleships will sink beneath the waves again i think this song is really personal

the way she sings and the lyrics have a really specific effect i will be crying over

this song is so good. it’s so good. track five supremacy.can we discuss how perfect the production is on the album i think we should

mirrorball

yet more perfect production? she’s really feeding me with this one

after ithk and lwymmd i was not expecting to be so obsessed with track 6 but what a pleasant surprise. like i initially liked ithk too but not like this (don’t make the pun)

again i am so upset by the lyrics

the hush…. i think she invented singing

god the chorus is so specific and so very taylor that i could cry like!! yes!! this is what it’s all about no one touch me seriously i mean it this time

masquerade revelers means something and it’s a beautiful visual too man she really stepped up her songwriting with this album

this whole song feels like something directly out of a dream

THE BRIDGE? BRIDGE CITY? I AM THE RODEO CLOWNS? THE TIGHTROPE? I’M STILL A BELIEVER BUT I DON’T KNOW WHY? THE VOCALS? THE LAYERED SINGING? DON’T TALK TO ME

i’ll show you every version of yourself tonight means something and i will cry

seven

this means the most to me really i just… this is for the kids who were victims of something bigger than them and i don’t want to cry but i think i just might for personal reasons

i again really love the production thanks for my rights miss swift

the half speaking really works for me this time (and this song is closeted teenager rights)

passed down like folk songs,,, i have emotions and i finally learned how to pronounce folk

and i’ve been meaning to tell you / i think your house is haunted / your dad is always mad and that must be why these lyrics are flawless and stunning and god. yeah. this song y’all

will you run away with me? yes. you won’t have to cry or hide in the closet what did i say!! closeted teenager anthem i’m tatttooing this on my forehead

i used to scream ferociously and that whole lyric might be my favourite part

again her vocals are an absolute dream i love the higher register

i still got love for you,,, this is really about childhood love and the way it fades but leaves an indelible mark goodbye i am done i can’t deal with this

i would listen to karaoke of this on its own because the background music is so perfect

taylor swift saw me listening to the japanese house and girl in red and said “hey i can do that” and you know what? she could!

august

okay so before we start this listen i want to say this song made me hyperventilate and almost cry at one in the morning which was great like. i wanted a song that made me feel as much as say it by maggie rogers and taylor swift said “okay bet”

that being said i really do love this intro i feel it’s very beautiful and it reminds me of white teeth teens a bit i can’t explain why

this is the lowkey version of cruel summer and it is equally gay

never have i ever before,,, taylor said i will romanticize being a teenager in love and it will be the most beautiful album you have ever heard in your life

i can see us lost in the memory just the way she sings the chorus is so beautiful

honestly this makes me feel like i’m sitting in a field which i think is the vibe taylor wanted to accomplish with lover but hey

her cruel summers and augusts were the equivalent of my january huh

this is the sad ending for cruel summer this is when she looked up and said “yeah you being in love with me is the worst thing i’ve ever heard” no one talk to me ever again

“back when we were still changing for the better / wanting was enough” is an absolutely perfect lyric i don’t want anyone to speak to me for the next year

“to live for the hope of it all / cancelled plans just in case you called / and say meet me behind the mall / so much for summer love” that was amazing that was perfect thank you

“you were mine to lose”

i love this chorus so much it’s unreal it’s just wow

august sipped away like a bottle of wine CAUSE YOU WERE NEVER MINE

i don’t even know what lyric to type up because they’re all so good and they evoke such a specific feeling i feel like i was punched in the gut

have i mentioned how much i love this production yet? i love this production

isn’t this outro just the most stunning thing you’ve ever heard wow

this is me trying

such a change of pace in terms of production and yet i am completely enamoured by it

the intro is so beautiful and the way she just transitions into a song so viscerally about her insecurities i... i refuse to do this damnit

this is apologizing for cheating but it was on her this time (no i don’t think taylor actually cheated on anyone it’s called storytelling and i feel this is one of the songs farther from her than the others)

for some reason the background music reminds me of pure heroine?

lyrically and thematically it sounds like the archer and wow can’t tell you how much i adore that

favourite lyric: i got wasted like all my potential

the curve became a sphere,,,, this is just such a good and honest and raw song how does she do it i’m asking how does she do it

i really love the melody of this thing i don’t know what to tell you

it’s so upset and emotional but resigned in a sense? i can’t really properly describe this

again this is bridge city! i don’t know if i’ve said this before but the bridge for this song is truly impeccable her ability to do this astounds me like the songwriting alone y’all

i really do love the background beat

illicit affairs

the visuals and the imagery and the storyline of this song are so perfect and damn i can just see the music video (i maintain this is by the same narrator as august)

you’ll be flushed when you return do you see what i mean by perfect visuals?

the way her voice pitches up and the high notes

who allowed the chorus to be this amazing i’ve listened to it like ten times now and my eye still twitches (should i get that checked out?)

i would like to repeat that this is an extremely gay song thank you taylor

a dwindling mercurial high is such a good line ugh i love the imagery again

clandestine meetings and stolen stares,, our secret moments in a crowded room,,,

maybe the perfume thing could build off the water theme?

the bridge of this thing goddamn wow i can’t believe

YOU SHOWED ME COLOURS YOU KNOW I CAN’T SEE WITH ANYONE ELSE

she’s on a cliff screaming in anger because the affair destroyed her!! august + illicit affairs are the same narrator and this is me trying is the person she was with,,, actually i think this is me trying might be about the other person apologizing to the narrator of august + illicit affairs,,,,

you taught me a secret language you know i can’t speak with anyone else vs. do all lovers feel like they’re inventing something do you ever just sit on the floor and cry

for you i would ruin myself a million times,,, evelyn hugo quote about screaming i’m in love with celia st james,,, death by a thousand cuts,,,, yes it’s fine everything is fine

invisible string

ahhh the pizzicato! that’s beautiful that’s really on point she really said strings kids rights huh

i really do like this production and the way it contributes to this idyllic image of her childhood whew i love this song a lot

ugh the melody of the pre chorus is so lovely we have to stan

all along there was an invisible string,,, tying you to me,,, okay now i am mildly intrigued by how much of this was autobiographical goddamnit there will be no more explanation

bad was the blood… that’s so cute! she said i looked like an american singer! no one touch me

wow her vocals on this song are so lovely and the lyrics! aren’t the lyrics just flat out amazing we have to stan taylor swift i think

string that pulled me and there are musicians pulling strings in the background okay i see you

that dive bar,,, dive bar on the east side,,, we love a consistent muse (also met you in a bar)

oh yes i do really like this bridge too it’s so romantic and wonderful perfect

an axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart? i think she should be allowed to do that as a treat

the hell / heaven reference thanks for another religious metaphor to add to my collection

her vocals on this song are so unique and i also like them a lot my eye is twitching again

maybe i got my track eleven rights back didn’t it! i really hope this is track 11 otherwise i’m going to look like a clown (no i don’t want to google it)

the outro is so soothing and beautiful i think i hear a violin

mad woman

the piano! hearing real instruments on taylor songs again! we are so blessed

i think this is narrated by the same woman from the last great american dynasty honestly

maybe also by the august / illicit affairs narrator trying to get revenge my mind okay

every time you call me crazy i get more crazy ugh i love this! women straight up going unhinged i see you with your gone girl fanfiction miss swift

the way this song feels like a whispered confession and her vocals and the eerie nature of the background music we have absolutely no choice but to stan

now i breathe flames every time i talk is a really amazing visual

this feels like a better done version of i did something bad i said what i said

it’s obvious that wanting me dead has really brought you two together - i love that line! i love unhinged taylor swift! blank space and idsb mashed together with a new feel i can’t put my finger on but i am quite literally obsessed with it

every time you call me crazy i get more crazy yeah that’s a line

there really isn’t anything like a mad woman (also this is intentionally linked to the last great american dynasty and i won’t shut up about this now)

the bridge is so intimidating and delightful! hell hath no fury like a scorned woman wow the visuals i see in my head are amazing

good wives always know taylor this is a better criticism of the patriarchy than the man is i just want you to know that from me personally

the outro is amazing there’s definitely some sort of snare drum here (i don’t know instruments again)

epiphany

it did not click that this song was about the pandemic the first time i listened to it

but honestly i am so obsessed with this intro it reminds me of the archer a little bit

i think this is paralleling war with the pandemic

ease your rifle and the accompanying vocal is so well song

okay the beaches reference is helping my water and authenticity thing

some things you just can’t speak about yeah i will lose my mind for personal reasons

this song is really comforting for some weird reason

something med school did not cover feels like an actual punch to the gut. someone’s daughter, someone’s mother… okay. okay i didn’t get this the first time but i am upset now.

and some things you just can’t speak about is a line and a half i think

it’s really just so beautiful and it’s hurting me

what’s the significance of twenty? she keeps referencing it and in lover too

but wow the bridge is otherworldly i love it so much… her mind amazes me

watch you breathe in… watch you breathe in…. please it’s so beautiful i can’t

actually this song might be one of my favourites it’s so good (of course i’ve thought that about all the songs so take this comment with a grain of salt please)

the outro is also super heavenly do i hear strings again?

betty

so we’re all in agreement this is gay

the beginning sounds so country and that’s her beginning and this is about a high school love

you can’t believe a word she says (most times) is so fun and cute i can’t believe i got rights handed to me on a silver platter with this one

the storyline she implies in the chorus it’s literally so beautiful i just have a lot of feelings! i snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer just to seal my fate!

this feels like a quintessential taylor swift song with the characterizations and the lyrics and how it feels ripped out of a diary entry (yes i know it isn’t but that’s how it feels )

do i hear a fiddler? emily poe is that you? not the point i know

BUT IF I JUST SHOWED UP AT YOUR PARTY man the chorus really does snap

taylor swift said fuck 2020 god bless america we’re officially moving into a good timeline

on broken cobblestones is all of my rights encapsulated into one don’t touch me

this is just gay james is a lesbian i don’t make the rules i just enforce them please

betty i’m here on your doorstep LIKE IN THIS IS ME TRYING BETTY IS THE AUGUST  / ILLICIT AFFAIRS / MAD WOMAN / CARDIGAN / THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY NARRATOR

the narrator of betty is the same as this is me trying no one talk anymore

WILL YOU HAVE WILL YOU LOVE ME WILL YOU KISS ME ON THE PORCH IN FRONT OF ALL YOUR STUPID FRIENDS THE MOMENT OF EMOTIONAL CATHARSIS I EXPERIENCED

i’m only seventeen i don’t know anything and the way it explicitly connects to cardigan

car again / cardigan is some nice wordplay

this is an objectively perfect song

peace

the opening music for this track is really lovely, it feels like a good return to lowkey after how Much betty was honestly

our coming of age has come and gone is one of the best opening lines i’ve ever heard

i’ve never had courage in my convictions won’t you look at what a great lyric that is

no i can never give you peace,,, man i really do like this hook

the production on this song is amazing

i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm! the ocean wave line helps my authenticity theory! they say love’s for show but i would die for you in secret! is this a song or a series of excerpts from my poetry the world may never know (i’m kidding i could never write anything this good)

would it be enough if i could never give you peace no one look at me i can’t be perceived any more than this

it’s like i’m wasting your honour wow what a line that is especially after exile but then the narratives don’t exactly match up hold i’m thinking

swing with you for the fences (i know places) sit with you in the trenches (epiphany) i feel like there’s something to referencing those songs directly after each other

oh.. the child line…. oh?

i’m a clown to the north does that count

man this song is so good and it gives me serious call it what you want vibes for some reason

but i would die for you in secret i feel like this bears repeating cause i’ll scream

would it be enough,,,, am i too much,,,, i would like to lie down

the outro to this is so pretty and haunting and thematically it kind of reminds me of dwoht / afterglow but that’s just me

hoax

i wrote hoax lyrics pre album but hers are much better

my smoking gun,,, knife to a gunfight,,, the way,,, man

okay a depressing song to close out a taylor album is new and im going to lose my mind

i really love the piano in the background like that’s beautiful

the confessions screaming on the cliff vibe i was right

YOUR FAITHLESS LOVE’S THE ONLY HOAX I BELIEVE IN

no other sadness in the world would do well that is a depressing ending to seeing daylight

my best laid plans / my sleight of hand / my barren land she’s literally such an amazing songwriter why is anyone allowed to have this level of talent and not pay appropriate taxes

THE ASH FROM YOUR FIRE IS THIS THE PARALLEL TO MY TEARS RICOCHET? i think i cracked something here wow

YOU KNOW I LEFT A PART OF ME BACK IN NEW YORK PLEASE EXPLAIN

the hero died so what’s the movie for i’m fine this is all very fine can you hear me screaming

you knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score i really think this is the other half of my tears ricochet you guys

her voice and the production combined here is so haunting

my only one my kingdom come undone can we just have a mental breakdown super quickly and collectively so i know i’m not really losing my mind

i really love this song a lot wow

the piano harmonies / melodies are so pretty (i don’t know which one it is sue me)

it’s perfect wow

[uniarycode]

Takari Week, Day 1 - Confession

Takeru has spent weeks trying to confess to Hikari but somehow he can never actually get it out.  Hikari has a different interpretation on how they’ve been spending their time.  Done as part of @takariweek 2020

Today was the day.  Today everything would change for better or for worse.  Today marked the first sentence of a new chapter of his life.  Today was the day he was going to confess to Hikari.

Unlike all those other sentences he had to re-write.

This was not the first day this month Takeru had planned to confess.  However, he was a romantic at heart, and no matter how much resolve he had beforehand somehow the moment never felt right.  He would always be able to tell their grandkids about how they met, but he wanted to be proud or the story of how he first asked her out.  And none of the opportunities so far fit his taste.

It was either that or he was afraid.  

Even if his confession was successful, it would still mean a fundamental change would occur in his and Hikari’s relationship.  And Takeru had a mixed relationship with change. Change meant the loss of his father and brother.  Change meant the introduction of a strange world filled with monsters.  Even the first time Patamon had changed into a new form had led to one of the most traumatic events in his life.

But change also led him to meet Patamon in the first place, something he wouldn’t trade for all the riches in the world.  Change meant moving to the same school as Hikari, and meeting Miyako, Iori, Daisuke and Ken.  Change meant that one day society might accept Digimon as a whole.

And whether he liked it or not, change was coming.

It was still surreal to him; his brother and Taichi had always seemed so close.  They had never been part of the same cliques, and they spent almost as much time fighting as hanging out.  But their friendship always eclipsed everything else, social standings, heated disputes, none of it mattered; they were best friends, through and through.

Then college happened. Now the legendary duo’s primary means of communication was via their siblings.  Hikari would learn some new fact of her brother’s life, tell Takeru during the course of casual conversation, and Takeru would update his brother of the going-ons later that week.

It wasn’t just them.  Even Mimi, who had an incessant talent for attaching herself onto someone and refusing to let them go, seemed much further from the rest of the chosen then she’d even been while she lived in America.

Takeru knew their bond was strong, that what the eight of them had done could not be forgotten or replaced.  But even if distance could not destroy the bridge holding them together, it could certainly increase the hassle of travelling back and forth.

The last thing Takeru wanted was for that distance to appear between himself and Hikari.  This was their final year in highschool, if he didn’t at least try now he might not ever get the opportunity again.  He needed to try, despite the inherent risks.

Besides, Hikari had rejected Daisuke dozens of times, and they were still friends, right?

Gathering his courage, Takeru had asked Hikari if they could have a day to themselves, ‘just the two of them’.  He’d suggested Wednesday, when neither club duties nor pressing assignments devoured too significant portions of their time.

Ever the romantic, he had it all planned out: First, karaoke.  A good, private way to judge the mood, and get Hikari to let her hair down.  Next, they had tickets to a movie, the new Disney flick that Hikari had been dying to see but never gotten around to (and without someone pressing, likely would not until it became available on dvd.) Finally, a romantic stroll on the boardwalk at sunset.

The boardwalk overlooking the bay.

The bay where they fought Ordienmon.

The bay where they’d been forced to kill one of their friends.

It was only after beginning his long-rehearsed spiel that Takeru had this epiphany, and, fearful that his date may have been quicker on the uptake than himself, he scrambled for a plan B.  

Salvation came in the form of a nearby cat café, he knew as soon as he suggested it that Hikari would lose herself in the felines, paying more attention to the four-legged critters than she did to him, but it was worth it to avert potential catastrophe.

Fate still deigned to mock him however, from the instant he sat down a maine-coon attached to him, refusing to move from his side, or to let the memories of past failures escape.

All cats attached to Hikari, she merely shared them with the other customers as she saw fit.  There was no doubt she enjoyed herself, but the moment had been well and truly ruined.

Takeru had managed to obtain an opportunity of redemption. ‘Same time next week’ had been the agreement, and he had near instantly resumed planning.  Whatever he came up this time had to top what he’d just done, or else he might have to explain away his mistake.

But even the most perfect plan does not survive contact with the enemy, and the enemy presented itself as an ill-timed phone call from his father.   One of his coworker’s households had apparently been graced by the appearance of a small white blob with a voracious appetite, and Hiroaki was wondering if his son could stop by after school and help calm the panicking mother, perhaps also giving tips for digital care.

Hikari would not allow him to say no, and insisted on tagging along.  But the TV station itself held a lot of painful memories for the girl, every year she returned with an offering of flowers and incense for Wizardmon’s grave.

It was far from a total waste since an idol Hikari had been following was also present.  Somehow the idol had overheard their arrival, and considered themselves interested in the pro-digimon cause.  In fact, the idol had been downright helpful, asking questions of him and Hikari that the coworker was likely to embarrassed or too naïve to think of.  Hiroaki ended up taking them all out for dinner, and they chatted for hours, finally assuaging the fear of a parent whose daughter now had a dog-head as a life partner.  

By that point, he had to take Hikari home, with no real opportunity to confess, even if Wizardmon wasn’t on her mind.

The third attempt was a no go from the beginning, Hikari had been sent into a rare, foul state.  All she wanted to do was eat ice-cream and rant, so they went to a dairy-bar overlooking the beach.

He’d let her vent when she wanted to vent, and when she was done he did what he did best: deflecting the conversation to some odd antics of Daisuke or his brother, anything to get her happy and cheerful again. Even after her mood had recovered, steering the conversation towards a confession felt like he might be taking advantage of her, or putting her on the spot somehow.

Cheering her up was reward enough, even as he paid for the forty-flavor super-jumbo, bottomless Sunday that they’d managed to make a liar out of.

(He’d eaten perhaps an eighth of it, there was no doubt in his mind that Hikari could have eaten the whole thing; but she at least wanted the plausible deniability to claim that he’d consumed half the calories.)

The fourth attempt was similarly doomed, he’d been too sick for school that day, and while Hikari had dropped by, he was too delirious to form a real confession, or for her to take any confession seriously.

The feel of her hand stroking his hear as she tended to him had been so heavenly though.  He couldn’t regret the experience.

By this point Takeru was convinced their Wednesday gatherings were cursed.  There was little reason Hikari would even see them as special.  And while he always enjoyed spending time with her, especially just the two of them, he was worried that regularity may dampen the splendor he’d initially been going for.

This week he requested to move their weekly hang out session to Saturday.  It would allow more time for them to be out at night, and thus more time for him to enact his perfect confession.  Hikari’s father was away on business, and her mother had already agreed to be rather lax on her daughter’s curfew.

His mother had not, but she would not punish him if he told her he was out on his first date, nor would she punish him after getting rejected, yet another reason he needed to actually spit it out today.

And it seemed all the stars were aligning, on top of her father being out of town: a photography exhibition at a local gallery was going for half price, and her favorite indie group were headlining a public concert at the beach until sundown.  Finally, there was a forecast for a clear, bright moon, and a local botanical garden was advertising a moonlit stroll through their flowers.

Hikari had agreed on one condition: they could wade through the shallows, but not do any real swimming at the beach.  It had seemed odd to Takeru at first, but the beach had been more about the free concert than seeing her in her swimsuit.

***

When Takeru arrived at the Yagami apartment he was stunned by the vision of beauty that graced him.  Hikari was wearing a strapless dress, black with accents of pink and white, that he’d never seen her in before.   Based on how high her head was coming up his body, she had to be wearing quite daring heels as well.

And her makeup had been done with so much precision and effort he had to wonder if perhaps Mimi had come back to town to help her.

“T-Takeru?” she asked, and he realized he must have been staring.

“I’m sorry, have you seen Hikari?  Brown hair, about yea tall,” he held his hand about three feet off the floor, “may have a family of ducklings following her around.”

“That was one time.” She scolded.

Takeru stood on his tip toes and moved one hand to sit above his eyes, like a visor.  “Hikari? Is that you?  Are you trapped behind this radiant goddess in front of me?”

A tell-tale pink infiltrated her cheeks as she turned around.  “It’s too much isn’t it?  I could still maybe change and-”

His hand shot out and grabbed her arm before she could escape. “You look perfect.” He said sincerely, pulling her in for a hug. “Besides, people at the exhibit will be expecting beauty and art.  They just may not be expecting the source.”

“You’re just saying that.” She deflected.

He wasn’t.

Takeru was not the same connoisseur of photography Hikari was.  When push comes to shove, he wasn’t sure anyone was the same connoisseur of photography Hikari was.  That said, he enjoyed exhibits well enough.  He liked to look at the pictures, and soak them in.  Try and memorize every detail to regurgitate later.  

Or occasionally, he would find a particular picture, and write a story in his head.  How had they gotten here, to this moment, what did picture mean to the squirrel which was the focus?  What was he doing immediately before?  How did this moment change his life?

Such joys eluded him today, instead his focus was solely on the brunette accompanying him.  The pictures only mattered in how they changed the expression on her face as she examined them.  

After exiting the gallery, there was still about an hour before the band started playing at the beach, they stopped for a bite to eat, and Takeru did his best to fake his way though her questions on the exhibition.

What was his favorite photo?  He named one on the left wall of the one she stared at for ten minutes, that had framed her head the whole time.  Why?  He made up some impromptu story he’d concocted about the scenery involved.  It won him a laugh from her as he turned the questions around.

When they got to the beach, Hikari replaced her heels with flat sandals she kept in her purse.  Takeru noted that he at least recognized the heels this time, unlike her dress, but he’d still never seen her wear them before.

Despite her insistence they not swim, (something Takeru now realized had to do with the amount of time she’d spent on her makeup,) hikari had instantly dragged him towards the water, to wade in the shallows.  They didn’t go much more than ankle deep, anymore and they risked getting hikari’s dress and his shorts wet, but it had been romantic nonetheless.

When the main act began to play, they collected their shoes and moved towards the stage, communications dampening as the speakers drowned out all sounds but the band on stage.

Takeru didn’t need words, the sight of Hikari, framed by the sunset, losing herself in the moment was more than enough for him.

It was twilight when the band’s ‘second encore’ had concluded and the crowd began to peter out.   There was a small ice-cream sack on the beach, and Hikari rarely turned down an opportunity for more of the frozen delight.

They talked about the concert, the waves on the beach, of everything and nothing all at once, until the residual light from the sun faded and the moon came in full force.  In the city like this, there was always a glow of artificial light, but it did not diminish Tsukuyomi’s splendor.

Meandering towards the botanical gardens, continuing their chatter about daily life.  Just outside Hikari stopped him, finding a bench to switch back from flats to heels, insisting it was more ‘proper’.  Takeru didn’t let her get away unscathed, suggesting that if she wanted to feel taller, stilts would be more appropriate.  She responded by playfully warning him that he may ‘wake up one day, two feet shorter’.

Neither comment had nearly as much effect as when the woman at the counter remarked on ‘What a beautiful date this would make’ and how she ‘wished her boyfriend had been so romantic at that age.’

Hikari’s face could be mistaken for a tomato, and Takeru adopted an uncharacteristic stutter as he paid their admission and ushered Hikari outside.

The woman’s words had a chilling effect, the natural conversation had all but dried up, replaced with subtle pleasantries and tepid remarks about the moonlit flowers.  Before long Hikari had her camera out, taking pictures of the various plant life, abandoning most conversation all together.

Was this it, had such a small, well-meaning action already cursed him?  Everything was going so well.  Was he a modern Sysphus?  Doomed to forever push himself up the hill of a relationship with Hikari only to fall down at the pinnacle and start all over?

“Takeru?” Hikari asked, snapping him out of his monologue, “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Takeru replied “Just thinking.”

She grabbed his arm, pulling him towards a nearby bench. “Come on, let’s take a break, these shoes are killing me.”

“The price of fashion.” Takeru said sagely.

After they reached the bench, and Hikari had relieved herself of her footwear, they paused, focusing on some hydrangeas flow in the wind, accented by moon light.  A weight appeared on Takeru’s shoulder, where Hikari began to rest her head.

“Right now.” She said “This moment just feels so…perfect.”

Takeru took a deep breath.  He had the most wonderful girl on his arm, after spending nearly eight hours with her. “Yeah, perfect.”

A perfect moment.

It was unlikely a better opportunity would present itself.

“Hikari.” He said suddenly, just as she chimed in with his name. “Sorry,” they said in unison.

Her head pulled off his arm, quite disappointingly in his opinion, as she turned to face him.

“Ladies first.” Takeru said “I insist.”  She gave him a soft look, knowing that he wouldn’t let her win this one.

 “Okay.” She started “This last month, has just been so wonderful, so amazing.  I know I’m not the most experienced with this, and I know we haven’t really put a name on it, but it’s still been like something out of a novel.  I guess I should expect that from you.”

She had begun to look down, rummaging through her purse, as takeru tried to sort out exactly what she was talking about.  Had it already been a month since they started these ‘friend-dates?’

Hikari continued obliviously, “It’s not much, especially since you seem to do all the planning, but I thought you’d like it.” She pulled out a tightly-wrapped box. “Happy  one-month anniversary.”

Ani-what?

Dates rolled back in his head as he began to piece things together; the dress, the makeup, the heels, those were all for him?  Had she always been considering these less friend-dates and more dates-dates?

And he, in a move of pure coincidence, had moved this week’s date to Saturday, one month to the day of that first date, and even asked her mother for permission to stay out late.

Takeru did the only thing he could think of in the moment.

He laughed.

“Tak-Takeru?” she asked, and he could already sense fear and hesitation begin to well up within her as she saw her (boyfriend?) laugh at her anniversary gift.  He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug to dissuade any doubts.

“Happy anniversary,” he said when his hysterics died down.  “One month, I’ve been trying to confess for a month, and you hit me with that.”

“Wait, confess?” Hiakri said, begging a laugh of his own that quickly spread to Takeru.  “All this time and you didn’t even think we were dating?  You completely stopped flirting with everyone else.  Did you really think I didn’t…”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Takeru teased in response.

“Yeah,” Hikari agreed. “Well, if you finally managed to confess after all that, maybe I can do something I’ve been too scared to do for the last month.”

Takeru looked down at her, “What would that be?” he asked leaning in close.

“This.” She pressed her lips against his.

[fizzypunks]

its a date but its not a date

fandom: My Hero Academia/ Boku No Hero Academia word count: 3.8k/oneshot rating: t summary: hizashi takes shouta to a little festival and insists its not a date... just pure fluff bc <3

ship: Aizawa Shouta/ Hizashi Yamada | Erasermic

note: this reads better in AO3 because it keeps formatting for italics, which tumblr does not!

AO3

___

Yamada Hizashi wasn’t a timid person – it wasn’t even a quirk thing, it was just his nature, and it was something he was proud of. Sure, he’d been called loud and obnoxious, and some have been less than kind about his quirk when it’s gotten out of control. His quirk control wasn’t great for a very long time, but none of what he’d been called or heard had really changed the way he carries himself, and that  includes  his extroverted nature.

 He was, however, a panicked person, when it came to matters of  interest .

 Love. 

  Whatever .

 And, because love was the one thing that made him think twice about what he says, what he does or doesn’t do, that has landed him in the exact predicament that he’s facing right now.

 Hizashi tapped his pen against his essay, the half filled pages of his stationary blurring together into a mass of lines and half-assed penmanship. He’d been staring at it for the past five minutes, when he’d given up on trying to ignore his annoying problem.

  Shouta .

 It’s been getting harder to ignore the stupid pull of something he’s recently identified as  yearning  that comes every time he thinks of his best friend. Stronger than any hurricane gale, it pulls in every thought he has until there are no more to be had. Just Shouta, and his messy hair, and the eyes he thinks are pretty despite always being so blood-shot.

 Hizashi groans, faintly feeling heat spill across his cheeks. “God, why must I be so fucked?”

It’s not like he’s even asking him out on a  date  – no, he’s not bold enough to do that in their last year  and semester of school– there’s no need for distractions like that right now, whatever outcome may or may not come from it…. no, he’s just asking to take Shouta to the Autumn festival at the park, because Shouta should do something fun and get out of his room and not explode from stress.

 The poor guy has been spending all his time studying and stressing and sleeping even  less , so of course Hizashi would want to help his friend out and get him to relax.

 Yeah, that’s what it was – one friend asking another friend out because stress is bad.

 That doesn’t change the nervous skip in his heart right now, as he sits at his desk and thinks about…

 Hizashi groans again, tipping back in his chair and hooking his foot against the back of his desk so that he’s less likely to tumble. Theoretically, at least.

 Why does it feel so  significant  right now? He’d asked Shouta to do countless things with him! He’d gotten him to agree to go to the movies a bunch of times, and to a party or two, and, most recently, he’d even been able to rope him into going to a karaoke club! He didn’t sing, they left earlier than he’d planned, but Shouta had fun!

 Hizashi narrowed his eyes at the white ceiling and the ceiling fan that whirled past his vision, playing with the very edge of the wooden panel that kept him from tumbling onto his carpet.

 This wasn’t supposed to mean anything, but somehow it did.

 It felt like a declaration, no matter how he phrased it in his head, and he doesn’t understand the logic behind it.

  Fine. Whatever! I’ll just ask, and be blunt, and do it right before I leave so there’s no room for thinking, and it’ll be okay! 

 Something like,  “Hey, Shouta, let’s go to this festival! It’ll be so much fun! PLUS, I think you’ll look cute sharing cocoa with me!”

 Hizashi’s eyes widened, his foot slipped in that one moment of lost focus, and he fell –

 “ Fuck!”

 It was a little too loud, bordering on quirk use, but he had other problems to think about beside  that .

 He rubbed the back of his head.

 “Man…”

 If he can’t even imagine it the right way… how was he supposed to  actually  ask? It would be pretty stupid to try when he knew he could act a little too carelessly and, potentially, damage the good friendship they had going on.It was probably better left un-asked.

 Unsaid, un-asked, and out of mind.

 ~

 It was most certainly not out of mind, that is clear.

 Shouta is sitting across from him, half-mast eyes scanning the copy of his English text book in a way that looked a lot more performative than informative. Their booth was tucked more toward the back of the cafe, and it would normally be a bit more secluded and quiet, but midterms brought students from the woodwork and into any coffee-scented establishment, which their happened to be.

  What great luck.

 All around them was the sound of machines grinding coffee, books being shifted around, and light conversation in between bouts of half-silences – and a heavy vale of constant movement that proved to be less than ideal for studying, despite all the students trying to do  just that .

 It was to be expected this time of year, but it was still enough to bother Shouta. He concentrated better with silence, and he happened to be struggling a lot more on English than he does on his other subjects.

 Hizashi, thankfully, understood the material enough for the both of them and then some, and already finished his homework – the papers in front of him were notes, ready to be explained the moment Shouta needed it, with hand-writing that was still pretty bad but…

 For Shouta, he’d made an effort. The result was somewhat-legible scribbles lining the papers, and when he referenced it, Shouta didn’t have to ask too many questions about,  “what is this right here?”

 “I’m not going to pass.”

 Hizashi turned his eyes to Shouta, like he hadn’t been trying to find a reason to look at him longer. He was wearing a big, thick red scarf, which his hair was somewhat tucked into. He didn’t look up, he just kept his eyes on his text book. His irises weren’t moving on the page.

 “Oh man, don’t say that! How’d you think you’re gonna pass if you don’t believe in yourself?”

 “It’s because I don’t believe in myself.”

 Hizashi grabbed his warm cocoa and took a sip, if only to busy his hands with  something . “Shouta! I don’t like this type of negativity!”

 “Well, you’ve chosen the wrong friendship then.”

 “Or, maybe, the  right one!”

 Shouta looked up, and Hizashi held his gaze. His eyes had been given a break over the past few days of written work, so the redness that often lined them was almost completely gone.

 His skin looked soft too…

 His hair, it was fluffy and cute, also..

 “Hizashi?”

 He’d been staring and not talking and he leaned back into his seat like a magnet to metal. He started laughing, holding his drink up to his face. “Well, maybe I can cheer you up! What are friends for, right? And maybe it will turn that attitude around, ya think?”

 “You’re not making any sense?”

 Hizashi hated that it was true but there’s no going back now – his mouth was ten steps ahead of him anyway, and not even  he  could stop it.

 He smiled widely at Shouta. “I mean, maybe I’m here to make sure you don’t stress yourself out so much! You always do so much but never  check  yourself, and I’m here to fix that!”

 Shouta huffed, head bobbing just a bit. Then he smirked and Hizashi had to concentrate on his breathing. “And how do you propose you’d do that?”

 Oh, it was so easy – this was the opportunity the  gods  gave him after seeing him fall on his ass just a few days before.

 Hizashi leaned forward, and set his elbows down on his notes, a hot cocoa between them. “One word.  Festival .”

 Shouta’s eyebrows quirked down just a bit, and he tilted his head to the side, his hair tilting with him. “Festival?”

 “What do ya say? The park next to my neighborhood has one this weekend, and it’s free, and there’s food, and I really wanna go!”

 Hizashi grew pink at the admission, fought against the urge to cover his mouth, but Shouta didn’t comment. 

 Then, a little surprisingly, instead of arguing or finding reasons why it wasn’t logical to take time away from studies so close to exams, he gave him a smile.

 A small, intentional,  Shouta  smile. “Sure.”

 Hizashi tried to not sound over-enthused – just nodded his head and almost squeezed his cup too hard. “Yes! I finally got you to agree to do something!”

 “You always get me to do things.”

 “Yes, and I did it again!”

 Shouta rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back down to the English he’d never really understand.

 ~

 Hizashi was certain he looked fine. He wasn’t sure if it was  great  , but it was probably fine, and  whatever.

 Beside, had many other things to worry about, that were a lot more important than whether or not his shirt matched his shoes. Like, for one, how he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling of  significance .

 It was back, that nagging intrusion into his thoughts that insisted that something was supposed to be different this time. As he looked over his outfit in his body mirror, pulling over his heavy, long jacket, he had to remind himself that there was nothing different about today. Even if he really, in his heart,  wanted  there to be something different. 

 Huh.

 So maybe the difference was the  amount of yearning – Hizashi sighed, thinking about his feelings last year and comparing them to now. 

 He huffed, a huge sigh finally making itself known.

 Yeah, the feelings he had now were bigger and grander than they’d been last year and they threatened to take over his life if he let them…

 Hizashi sighed, rubbed his hands over his face, and pushed his hair back only to reveal his pink, flustered expression to its fullest.

 “Sweet lord, have mercy on me! I am an idiot with a crush!”

 He collapsed onto his bed and waited out the last of the thirty minutes before Shouta was going to arrive at his door.

 ~

 Shouta knocked, and Hizashi was already ready – his heart doing flips like he’d never experienced, but oddly enough, it didn’t feel bad. It felt exciting, and loving, and when he opened the door to the crisp autumn air, it felt like  home .

  Stop that!

 Shouta, for all his questionable outfits, looked  nice . And he always looked nice, but now he was wearing black boots, and brown khakis that somehow sort of matched Hizashi’s own, and a black tee underneath a black jacket.

 He never went anywhere in the cold without a scarf, either, and today was no exception. A red variety  was ceremoniously draped around his neck, loose enough to not be covering his face.

 Hizashi tried not to beam, but felt the shape his eyes took at the other and knew it wasn’t working. “Ready?!” He asked, a little too loud.

 “Yes… you said it was close, right? At the park?”

 Hizashi nodded, stepping out and slipping his hand into a pocket to make sure he had his keys and wallet. Confirming quickly, he shut the door behind him, again, with a little too much enthusiasm.

 He was  buzzing . Some type of energy that he normally had built up in him, that he normally kept pretty good reins on, was taking over –

 He was so excited, but, even more – he was just  happy .

 He looked to Shouta, and smiled, and then led the way down his steps and onto the quiet street. The sky was clear, save for some cloud further down on the horizon. The trees were starting to make themselves barren, and the smell of wood burning fires started to break out as soon as the sun hit its peak.

 The neighborhood, secluded and at peace, was quiet, and Shouta walked beside him in comfort.

 Hizashi never struggled to say anything, and now is no different – except it is, when he thinks he’ll say something dumb like  “hey i like you so much, you make my world right, also I love you. ”

 He can’t say that. 

 But he really,  really wants to.

 He’s wanted to for years, and he’s almost said it more than once, and now he’s let the silence build around them…

 Shouta often takes mercy on him, and so he did it again this time. Their pace was slow and there was a little bit of space between them, and he sighs. “This is really nice.”

 Hizashi smiles, keeps his eyes on the road as it winds forward. “I’m glad you think so! We’ve stressed so much, it’s a good weekend getaway, don’t you think?”

 Shouta laughs – it’s more of a chuckle, but it’s a laugh where Shouta is concerned. “Yeah, you’re right. I needed this, a lot, I think…”

 They reach the corner, looking for cars that weren’t coming. The crest of trees a few blocks ahead could be seen above rooftops, and that’s where Hizashi fixes his gaze. “Me too,” he says softly, and leaves it at that because he’s always on the verge of  too  many words.

 “You seem really… energized.”

 Hizashi fumbles with his hands, pretending to warm them up and not like he’s nervous. “When am I not!”

 Shouta hums, and it’s so deep and close that it makes Hizashi wish he could just…

 But then Shouta reaches out, and grabs at the hands Hizashi is cradling in front of him, blunt and to the point. He takes Hizashi’s left hand and slots their fingers together in his right, and Hizashi knows he can feel the clamminess…

 He looks back, sputtering, his heart erratic, “Shou – wha– I’m –”

  Does he know this is messing with me?

 And Shouta, in that calm, stupid way he always carries himself, smiles. “Maybe that’s what I’m here for.”

 He squeezes their hands, and Hizashi must look confused because Shouta laughs.

 “You always try to bring me up, so I think I can help bring you calm… You seem nervous, so,” he looked at their hands, swung them just a bit for emphasis. “Calm.”

 Hizashi feels every bit of himself crumble, falls away like a cliff against a storm, and smiles because it’s all he can do. He blushes and he can feel how it spreads, and he doesn’t say anything because every sentence ends in  I love you .

 ~

 The festival was a pleasant and home-y affair, and after they’d gotten there, they’d learned that it was quite bigger than either of them anticipated. Though it was still a neighborhood one, hosted by the local families and park itself, it was still filled to every corner.

 They’d gotten there during the peak of the sun, but it quickly descended as they wove in and out of the scattered foot traffic. The air was crisper where the lake sat in the center of the park, and the trees casted half shadows around the food and merchant vendors.

 They were walking around for less than an hour before the lanterns and torches were starting to light around them.

 Shouta still held Hizashi’s hand, and once he’d accepted the lovely fact, he’d loosened up enough to feel like his mouth wasn’t going to get him into trouble.

 “Wow! Shou! Look!” He pointed out, across the deep blue lake, to the hovering lights that surrounded it. 

 Shouta hummed warmly. “It looks very nice.”

 Hizashi was still smiling, still enamored by the lights as they floated out across his vision – the way the cool air from the dipping sun brushed against his skin and somehow made all the warmth in him  that  much warmer.

 He quickly cast his eyes down to Shouta, and found him looking at him.

 Hizashi’s ears burned and he looked away really fast, heart thumping deep in the cage of his chest.

  Oh don’t you dare say it. Don’t you DARE.

 “Um…” He said softly, intentionally because otherwise his quirk might get the best of him – he didn’t know if he was embarrassed by his enthusiasm, or by the way Shouta was watching him, but it all went away when Shouta tugged them along the side of the lake.

 It’s a few more moments before Hizashi gathers up the right words to say – the ones that aren’t gushy and filled with emotions he’s certain Shouta wouldn’t reflect. 

 “So!” He starts, looking around now that they were near the cluster of food stands. The air was filled with burning wood, meat, sauce, alive with the sound of simmering and laughter. “Want food? My treat! We can’t walk away without trying everything at  least once!”

 “I didn’t know you were rich enough to do that.”

 Hizashi chuckled. “I’m serious, though. Whatever you want!”

 Hizashi ignored the eyes tilted his way, right before leading off to Hizashi’s right. Hizashi turns around enough to look at the little stand and it’s cloth menu.

 It was a takoyaki shop, with different bao, and there was no line. 

 Hizashi smiled, and it was his turn to tug Shouta forward. He couldn’t really  look  at him, not just yet any way, but he could hear the light lilt in his voice when he ordered from the kind eyed older man at the register. Hizashi made his order quickly, and paid, and they walked away with various stacks of food.

 It wasn’t even a question where they’d go, and they found a spot under a tree to sit with their food. 

 The grass was cut, and the little hill they sat on overlooked a great deal of the sprawling festival that surrounded them. Up here, the voices that surrounded them, the chatter, the laughter that Hizashi was not interested in, was duller – muted, and when Shouta hummed in hungry appreciation at his bao, it made his heart ache all the more.

 He snuck a look to his right, graced by the mercy of Shouta closing his eyes. He’d just taken a bite, had unravelled most of his scarf to do so, and was now enjoying it for all it’s worth.

 Hizashi’s eyes softened at the sight.

  God.

 And Shouta opened his eyes, in his direction like he just knew.

 Hizashi looked down and took his bao. “This looks good! I should eat like this more.”

 “You should take me to more festivals, too.”

 Hizashi choked a bit – he recovered fast, and cast a glance toward Shouta. “Sure thing!”

  This feeling... 

 Maybe this is what he had been feeling – the lead up to whatever moment this was. The way Shouta really took the time to look at him, not through him. Like he was paying attention.

 Maybe…

 Hizashi held his oversized bao in both hands and looked forward. It suddenly didn’t feel like such a bad idea to speak. To say whatever it was that he was going to say, because for Shouta, it would always be okay…

 Didn’t make him feel any more at ease, not with the stupid thought in his head that maybe he was misreading whatever today was. Who knows, maybe Shouta always paid attention to him like this? And sure, the hands thing… that was new, but maybe Shouta just really likes holding hands but he needs to be comfortable with the person, and now after three years he’s  finally comfortable with Hizashi?

  If you’re gonna say something…

 “Hey,” he started. 

  Say it now.

 “I’m having a really good time.”

 He doesn’t take his wide, blown-out eyes from the festival. It was dark enough that every lantern stood out like little stars, and the breeze was so nice…

 “If you want… we can, um, do this again. I’ll find another festival, but I can’t guarantee it’ll be free this time, but I’ll try! And I’ll see if I can sneak in some home made food too so we can spend more money on like, cute stuff from the merchants. I saw this plush down there, actually, and it was a  cat , so maybe –”

 No, Hizashi wasn’t a timid person – but,  still , it was probably for the best that Shouta was the first one to move. He grabbed Hizashi’s hand, urging it away from the bao so that he could hold it again. 

 He’d pulled his attention to the forefront, and his eyes to finally meet his, and he realized that Shouta had moved so much closer…

 The dark of his eyes was so close, and he was  smiling …

 “You talk a lot when you’re nervous.”

 There wasn’t a way to hide the flush, so Hizashi looked down, feeling too open. “I’m sorry…”

 He couldn’t see his eyes, but he could see his smile. “I like it, though.”

 “What about if I say I like you...  Will you still like it?”

  Please…!

 Shouta didn’t leave him any time to doubt.

 “It makes it a lot easier… for me to say I like you, too… yeah, I’d like it…”

 Hizashi’s entire body was fireworks – explosions and exclamations and that same buzzing energy that gripped him every time he thought of Shouta. He grinned, and looked up to see Shouta was just as embarrassed and flustered as he was.

 He’d normally have to look away, but he assumed he had permission now, and…

  God you’re so pretty…

 His eyes, his eyelashes, the way his eyes bend against his smile and how he’d never seen him smile like this before… 

 Hizashi abandoned the bao in his lap and pushed away the hair that framed his face, slowly, not sure if it was too much to hold his face – 

 “I’m – I’m sorry, can I?”

 Shouta nodded. “And you can kiss me too, in case you weren’t sure…”

 That was all the reason he needed.

 He’d had so many reasons, so many countless reasons he  loved him...

 He cupped his jaw, still acutely aware of the way Shouta was still holding on to his hand in the grass – 

 It was cold, that was true, but right now he was warm with nerves and excitement and  love , and he leaned in –

 His breath, so warm –

 His lips, so soft –

 And neither of them were particularly experienced or daring, so after a few seconds when he finally parted their lips just a bit, they pulled away, just enough to speak.

 “Mmm, you taste like bao,” he said, and then wished someone was there in his brain to stop whatever dumb shit was trying to get out.

 Shouta just laughed. “So do you.”

 The rest of their night was spent on that hill, kissing and talking and, eventually, finishing their food. When they finally left, Hizashi found that plush cat at the vendor near the entrance of the park and gave it to Shouta. Shouta blushed, and Hizashi glowed with comfortable warmth, glad that he can now get cute things for his boyfriend.

[regrettablewritings]

If you are so inclined. I’m in love with the way you write for one Dewey Finn. So. Perhaps letters F, M, O, and W?

Heehee~ Welcome to the cult, fledgling :3

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?):

Dewey knows he’s in love when he realizes he’s growing beyond himself.

He’s a pretty forward guy at first glance: He’s loud, he’s impulsive, he lives his life according to the rules of rock ‘n roll. So you wouldn’t be blamed for buying into the idea that he’s about as confident as he acts, completely forgetting the fact that Dewey is, in fact, very low on actual self-esteem deep down. He knows he’s not the tallest, he knows he’s no Adonis by any means (hell, he’s lucky if he can even be considered a Dionysus at this point), and even though he’s aware that realistically, there is no race in growing up (especially at this age), he still feels insecure about where he appears to be compared to his peers.

But you stick around anyway, which is weird to him in a sense, but also very nice because having you around means he doesn’t have to think about how crappy he feels about himself. When you’re around, he can goof about and make jokes. He can pretend like he’s going to eat the last slice of pizza, only to pop it in your mouth because he knows you’ve had a rough day and it’ll cheer you up. He has someone there to remind him that sometimes he actually needs a plan before he does a task that’ll land him flat on his ass. Hell, he even enjoys show tunes more openly because seeing you sing and dance to them makes him want to join in, too, and  --

That’s when it hits him. Well, not exactly then, but in the moments in between where he’s by himself. He generally doesn’t like these moments because for so long, they’ve just been moments where he falls into introspection (something he’s already terrible at) and winds up falling further down a rabbit hole of despair.

But after a while of dating you, these moments of introspection start to change. It starts off small, barely noticeable. Until one day, he manages to take a look at himself and not think himself into a flinch; he just thinks, “Hm. That’s . . . not a good thing about me. I should probably fix that . . .” And he does. Well, he makes the effort to. Which is certainly more than he would’ve two years ago. He has no idea where this energy has actually come from, however. Maybe he’s more confident because he’s found a purpose in life? A relatively steady job? Or --

Yup. That’s when it hits him: Maybe he was giving you the last slice because he didn’t feel comfortable being greedy like normal and he wants you to feel nurtured in some way; maybe he’s letting you help him plan things because that’s the responsible thing to do instead of just fucking bullrushing into every damn thing; maybe he’s enjoying musicals a bit more than he ever would’ve admitted because, well, there really is more to rock ‘n roll than he would normally like to admit. There’s more to himself than he would normally be able to see.

And you see that in him. Sure, you see this chubby, overexcited and brazen rock god wannabe. But you also see this insecure guy doing his best, who has the actual drive and potential to be something far greater than what even he knows -- he just needs the right push.

He’s glad you’re his push.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?):

It’s difficult for Dewey to actually choose to be quite honest. He absolutely treasures memories where he’s able to marry his two passions in life: You and music. Does he go with the first time you saw him perform with the School of Rock? The first time he heard you play chords he’d taught you? The first time you two did karaoke together?

No, actually. Because try as he might, it’s actually a lot simpler than that: Date night at Fat Sam’s Donut Hut. It was after 9 in the evening, and you two had hunkered down in a booth and were having way too much fun playing a dumb little game where one would sing a tune of a song but only using the word “donuts” until the other one guessed what it was.

It was so. Stupid. And that was probably why the both of you kept playing it (well, that, and competitiveness). He was actually quite surprised with how many of yours he was actually able to get right, considering many of them were actually pop songs and musicals specifically chosen to throw him off. He didn’t even know he knew anything from Putnam Spelling Bee! He’s not even sure why this particular memory warms him up inside at first, but he theorizes that it may have something to do with the absurdity of it all, or the authenticity of it.

And while those are certainly contributions, the reality of it is that later that evening, post-shower, he took a moment to glance at himself in the mirror. He can’t help but swear he looks . . . a little different. He’s still weighty, but it’s almost like he’s carrying differently. Like his normally godawful posture has progressed to just, well, mediocre posture. There’s some color to his cheeks that he knows isn’t there due to the hot shower. And honestly? He probably thinks this way because he actually feels good about himself for a change. Huh. Weird . . . He wonders why . . .

And that was when it clicked that he loved you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?):

Bright orange. If only because of a rather unfortunate hair dye incident . . . Also maybe black, but that’s only because that was the color of the wig you had to wear until you could get your hands on some dye. He tries to nickname you based on the orange color, but it turns out Orn’gy Porn’gy/Orgy Porgy just . . . He can’t get away with that.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?):

Bold of you to assume he would ever want to get married. (Okay, but seriously, I actually had fics planned surrounding some of these topics, how dare you make me have to skirt around things in this?)

Dewey actually never really put much thought into marriage for most of his life. Maybe because marriage and rock goddom generally don’t mix. Or maybe it’s because watching his parents’ failed marriage scarred him more than he would like to think or admit . . . Nah, it has to be that first bit. After all, what could be cooler than not having to settle down, being able to travel the road, bang a groupie on every continent? Settling down with in a nice, safe environment created by the both of you’s contributions of excitement and cooperation, thus giving him a sense of belonging and accomplishment the likes of which he’s secretly felt lacking for much of his life?

. . . Oh, shit, that actually does sound pretty nice if he has to think about it.

So nice, in fact, that he just blurted it out as the two of you sat on the floor of the apartment together.

“Hey . . . Do you wanna get married?”

He wants to kick himself for its shitty delivery. It sounds less like he’s asking you for your hand and more like he’s an overly curious kindergartner snooping about his teacher’s private life!

And suddenly, the normally thoughtless Dewey Finn is abuzz with everything wrong with this scene. He didn’t plan this out; he hadn’t begun the week thinking, “I’m going to propose to this beautiful fool”, much less woken up that morning thinking that. He wished he had taken a note from your book and put himself on hold to think this through. Maybe then he could’ve thought about enlisting Ned’s help and making the moment memorable. He knew fancy establishments weren’t your cup of tea, but at least going to a nice place might’ve commemorated the evening. He at least could’ve grabbed a cupcake or something from the bodega a few blocks down. But he didn’t.

And now you’re going to reject him or, at the very least, strangle him or give him the silent treatment or --

“Really?” It’s not said with the bemusement or cynicism he had expected. In fact, if anything, it sounded . . . hopeful.

Okay, credit where credit is due: Sometimes, it helps to be spontaneous.

Thanks for asking!

[bcbdrums]

More Drakgo!  Because the world needs more!!!

FFn link ---> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13578348/1/Choose-Your-Side

A/N: The flash-fic well is drying up, but I've still got Tumblr prompts to fill. This prompt actually comes from an AO3 user and a faithful reviewer, shrijver. '26. Jealous kiss' for you, m'dear! This also randomly became a semi-songfic. @theiconicgwen, here's your karaoke. Enjoy, everyone!

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

Having common sense kept them out of most trouble, except for that which came with their schemes. Of course, Shego would argue that total and complete recklessness wasn't part of the territory. Even so, for being villains, neither of them drank much alcohol.

Shego sipped at her Blinker and stared at Drakken's Pan American Clipper, half-empty on the table. Her shoulders were tense as she felt everyone's eyes on her more than usual in the karaoke bar. But it was to be expected—they had saved the world, after all.

She wished for what must have been the hundredth time that he hadn't chosen a table in the center of the restaurant, but he seemed oblivious to the fact that there were always eyes on the pair of oddly-colored villains. And that night it was worse, as people were constantly approaching them with questions or wanting autographs.

It was probably why they were each on their second cocktail.

Drakken had excused himself to use the restroom before his next turn on the mic. He had already sung his usual favorites that Shego now had memorized, to her dismay, as well as a few she had only occasionally heard either on the radio or at other times there at his favored karaoke bar. Usually he topped out at about five or six songs in a two-hour period, as plenty of other patrons were having turns at the mic. But that night they were on their third hour and he had shown no signs of slowing down.

He had tried for years to get her to sing a duet with him, but always she refused, sometimes with a threat if he was especially persistent. But that night he hadn't asked her once. In fact, his conversation had been oddly surface-level and conservative for his boisterous personality, usually cranked up to the maximum on karaoke night.

Shego sipped at her cocktail again and wondered at his behavior. Of course, she knew she wasn't herself either. Neither of them had been since the invasion.

It had been almost a month since that day that changed everything. Terror and sleeplessness and fighting blindly against a foe they knew could truly destroy them... And then mutated plants. And Kim Possible's side-kick. And then a shining gold medal hung around Drakken's neck at the United Nations, crowds cheering in thanks and praise.

Since that day, their lives were no longer their own. They had magazine interviews, TV spots, invitations to lectures and conferences and universities and museums... There was even talk of a documentary about Drakken's life.

And that was the thing—it was all about Drakken. She was never actually invited, she was just...automatically included. By him. He didn't seem to notice that she wasn't in the picture, as far as the public was concerned. Even the awkward moment at the UN when his vine had wrapped them together had blown over with the major media outlets inside of a week. And when patrons at the karaoke bar approached her, it was always with questions about him.

She was curious as to why she had been ignored...but that curiosity kept getting pushed aside in favor of a bigger question: just what were they?

Drakken was thrilled beyond description with his newfound hero-status. Finally, people wanted to hear him talk for hours about his scientific theories and inventions. And he reveled in it each day to the point of exhaustion.

And each day they returned home...to their villain's lair.

So what were they? Was the hero-thing temporary? Was it permanent? Was he even aware that he was dragging her all over the world only to sit in the back of a hall or stand in the wings while authorities and the public alike praised and revered him?

But whenever he wasn't engaged by others, he was always at her side... Asking her how he looked, telling her how amazing it was to have his ideas praised... But other than being his...his...sounding board, what was she?

And why did she keep going with him?

Why did she go with him to karaoke?

Karaoke was technically in her contract, but, she knew he wouldn't care if she just refused to go. And yet she had gone, for years. And now on their first night out of their own accord since the invasion, that was where he'd wanted to go, and she was with him again.

She glanced across the darkened room toward the hall that led to the restroom, and then her eyes glimpsed Drakken leaning against the end of the bar. Why hadn't he come back to...?

He grinned shyly. And then she noticed the two women standing far too close to him.

Shego could tell their type instantly. Too much makeup, too much skin showing, and very clearly drunk from their wobbly posture and their giggles. Drakken appeared unsure what to do with their attention.

Shego's eyes darkened as one of the women began running her fingers around Drakken's medal—which he wore everywhere, of course—and the other woman leaned into his side and began twirling her fingers through his hair. Drakken looked between the two even more uncomfortably and Shego started to rise from the table, but then Drakken slipped between the two women and hurried up the steps to the stage.

Shego hadn't even noticed the previous song ending. And apparently it was Drakken's turn again. She felt the familiar tension coming as she knew people would be staring again.

It wasn't that he was a bad singer. He had potential. It was that he over-sang everything and put so much camp and drama into the performances that they were laughable. Although usually he got cheers. And that night, due to his new status as world-hero, he had gotten more than ever. The crowd seemed larger too, and Shego wondered if word had gotten out that he was there.

Shego watched as uncharacteristically, Drakken pulled the stool up to the mic stand and sat down, adjusting the stand to his height. He always stood and moved around while singing.

He looked around nervously over the crowd, which was also unusual. But when his eyes found her at their usual table, his face relaxed into a soft smile. He turned toward the DJ and held up a hand to signal him to wait before starting the music. Drakken cleared his throat into the mic.

"I know some of you are here to see me," he said, "but this will be my last one tonight."

A chorus of sad responses sounded from the audience. Shego felt a slight relief, knowing they could leave soon. But she was still tense knowing that they were going to get more stares before that time came.

"My last bow," he said.

His eyes met Shego's with a strange thoughtfulness and determination. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

Drakken looked back over the crowd. "On the surface it looks like the world has...been brought together by everything that happened. But it...it hasn't really."

Confused murmurings began in the crowd. Shego felt even more uneasy. What was he doing? He never made speeches. And he never, ever talked about anything other than himself.

"Maybe it can... This last song is called, 'Break Your Heart.'"

The DJ started the music and a soft alternative beat began with an instrumental that had clear jazz influences from the rhythm and melody to the instrumentation. Drakken scooted back on the stool a bit, away from the very front of the stage. He gripped the mic on the stand with one hand and bowed his head. His eyes remained open but his face was serious.

The instrumental introduction continued for a long time before Drakken took his first breath, but then he softly hummed and 'oohed' over the instruments. It was so contrary to every other performance he'd ever given that Shego began to forget about her insecurity of just being there.

When the song lyrics started, they moved so quickly at first that they almost ran together, but appropriate pauses showed up as well. Drakken sang so uncharacteristically quietly that she leaned forward in her chair to listen.

"People downcast, in despair, see the disillusion everywhere. Hoping their bad luck will change... Gets a little harder every day.

"People struggle, people fight for the simple pleasures in their lives, but trouble comes from everywhere... It’s a little more than you can bear."

Drakken had looked down the whole time, but suddenly he looked up with his face more earnest than she'd ever seen. He seemed to be trying to look into the eyes of every patron of the restaurant.

"I know that it will hurt, I know that it will break your heart, the way things are and the way they’ve been, and the way they’ve always been."

Shego sat up fully, watching the strange performance. She had completely forgotten her worries and questions about the strange existence they had been living since the invasion. Drakken's voice was soft and smooth, and every word was crystal clear.

"People shallow, self-absorbed, see the push and shove for their reward. I, me, my is on their minds... You can read about it in their eyes.

"People ruthless, people cruel, the damage that some people do. Full of hatred, full of pride... It’s enough to make you lose your mind.

"I know that it will hurt. I know that it will break your heart, the way things are and the way they’ve been. But don’t spread the discontent; don’t spread the lies. Don’t make the same mistakes with your own life. You never will let love survive."

The almost constant string of words was broken then by a solo from a jazz guitar. Drakken looked down briefly, but then he looked up above the heads of the crowd. His eyes were sad, almost longing.

Shego didn't understand. Clearly, the song meant something to him, or he wouldn't have chosen it. And why the strange introduction?

His eyes slowly moved down and found hers. She blinked, both in surprise and a bit of nervousness at being trapped in his serious gaze. Not only had he never looked like that before, but...he had definitely never looked at her like that before.

Some of the sadness seemed to leave his eyes.

"I know that it will hurt. I know that it will break your heart the way things are and the way they’ve been. Don’t spread the discontent; don’t spread the lies. Don’t make the same mistakes with your own life. Don’t disrespect yourself, don’t lose your pride and don’t think that everybody’s gonna choose your side."

The song continued with a soft trumpet solo, but it was clearly drawing to a close. When it was near enough, Drakken cleared his throat and blinked out of whatever had put him into such a strange mindset.

The crowd cheered. Drakken smiled shyly and took a deep bow. Then he left the stage and hurried back toward their table.

Shego stiffened as she suddenly felt nervous, but she didn't know why. She downed the rest of her drink in a single swallow, and then grimaced as it burned her throat.

When Drakken arrived he didn't look at her at first, but set his hands on the table and leaned over. His eyes, in contrast to the open way he had looked out at the crowd, now looked hollow as if he had seen some horror. But he quickly shook it off, cleared his throat, and straightened up. His eyes fell to his unfinished drink and he knocked it back just as Shego had hers.

With a grimace, he lifted his medal up and off from around his neck and set it on the table. Shego's brow rose and she looked at him in question. He looked down at her like he was about to say something, but he didn't get the chance.

The two women from the bar had suddenly appeared, one on either side of him. He jumped as the one whose hair had been bleached blonde too many times ran her hands up his chest and up his arm to his shoulder. The other who was somehow chewing bubblegum while drinking was pushing her cleavage out in a very obvious way as she tried to give him a flirty look.

"That was sooooooo sexy!" the blonde said with a giggle as she leaned against his side. Drakken chuckled and smiled nervously and leaned away, only to bump into the woman on his other side.

"I felt so...connected to you!" the brunette said, grinning in a way that reminded Shego of obsession.

"Ah, yes, ah...thank you," Drakken stammered. The blonde's hands were getting more friendly, and the brunette had picked up his medal from the table and looked to be contemplating wearing it.

"We have a place just around the corner," the blonde said. "Would you like to come over for a nightcap? I'd love to see what your vines can do."

"And maybe you can give us a private performance?" the brunette asked. She'd put the medal on and rested it right atop her ample cleavage. "You must have more songs."

Drakken's eyes were darting between the two women in confusion as he continued to smile nervously.

Shego was sitting so close she could have reached out and stolen from either woman's purse. But she had her jaw hung open in a mixture of awe and fury at the audacity of the two tramps, so much so that it froze her in place for several seconds as her anger built.

"Don't you want this back?" the brunette said teasingly, moving in a way that made the medal almost bounce on her chest.

Drakken's cheeks began to turn pink and his nervousness turned to discomfort.

The blonde stepped up on her tiptoes and brought her ninety-nine cent red lipstick-slathered mouth toward Drakken's.

Shego had had it. She stood up and fairly roared.

"What am I, wallpaper!?"

The two women, and Drakken, jumped with a start. And then Drakken took another step back as suddenly Shego's arms were around his neck.

"Sheg—"

It didn't occur to her until a few seconds later that her kissing him was probably just as unwelcome and offensive as one of the drunken whores kissing him. But she had done what she had done, and she couldn't take it back.

The fierce kiss she had laid on him had clearly startled him, as for the first several seconds his shoulders heaved and his lips were frozen in a thin line. But then he slightly relaxed in her embrace, and as she slowly pulled away she felt his sudden response as he tried to capture her lower lip between his.

She looked up at him with a mixture of anxiety and apology. He stared down at her in awe.

All around them, the crowd cheered.

The two women were huffing and complaining and hurling insults at Shego.

Drakken's eyes darted around, and for the first time since they'd been coming to that karaoke bar Shego saw in his eyes the anxiety that plagued her each and every time.

"Let's get out of here," Drakken whispered in a near-panic. Shego nodded her agreement.

Drakken tossed a handful of cash on the table and then grabbing her hand, began to run. Shego was only too eager to follow, but then she pulled on his hand to stop him.

"Wait, your medal!" she hissed at him.

He glanced over her shoulder toward the two tramps, and then with a grimace he shook his head.

"Leave it," he said, and turned to pull her away and out of the restaurant.

Outside in the dark, they ran around the corner and down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. When the karaoke bar and its sounds were far behind them, Drakken slowed to a stop and dropped her hand as he leaned against a lamp post to catch his breath.

Shego watched him curiously, her heart beating out of her chest.

She'd kissed him. Why had she kissed him? What was the point? She could have just as easily threatened the two women harassing him, or worse.

Drakken slowly straightened and looked at her, his cheek still leaning on the cool metal of the post.

The anxiety Shego felt covered her body suddenly, like a million crawling ants. Drakken looked about to speak, so she did first.

"You left your medal."

Whatever Drakken had been about to say died on his lips. His brow furrowed lightly and he shook his head.

"Wasn't worth it."

"But...it was everything to you!" she said quickly. She would say just about anything to avoid the subject of the kiss.

Drakken shook his head. "It was...it was nice," he said slowly.

"What was?" Shego said quickly. She took a step back as he straightened fully.

"The attention. People...finally praising me for my genius."

"You're talking like it's over."

Drakken took a deep breath. "It is. I'm done."

Shego felt her heart skip a beat. What did that mean? That he was...returning to villainy? He'd never said he wouldn't... Even so, another question burned in her mind and quickly found its way to her tongue.

"But why?"

Drakken blinked out of his inward-focus and looked her over. Shego took another step back and put more space between them.

"You kissed me."

Shego ran her hand back through her hair. "Uh...yeah. Sorry about that."

Drakken shook his head as his gaze darkened. "You did it on purpose."

Shego could feel the unspoken accusation as he stared at her. He wanted to know her motive. He wanted to know if it had been some form of mocking. She tried to think of an excuse... But either due to the alcohol or simply having no other answer, she blurted out the truth.

"Those women were all over you! As if I wasn't right there!"

Drakken considered her words. Slowly, a smile came to his face.

"You were jealous."

Shego's face flushed. "Psh, as if. I just wanted those tramps to take a hike."

Drakken's smile was soft as he looked at her. Shego didn't understand and it made her uncomfortable. She took another step back and hugged herself, even though the night was hot.

"It's okay. I'm jealous too."

Shego's brow furrowed. "Huh?"

Drakken took a step toward her. "The way everyone just ignores you...no matter where we go. And treats you like you're not there."

His expression had darkened, and Shego continued listening in confusion.

"You deserve as much of the glory for saving the world as I do."

Shego shook her head. "I didn't do anything really."

"I couldn't have done it without you."

Drakken had taken another step closer. Shego felt some of the tension from back in the bar return, and Drakken continued.

"If you hadn't been with me to help me get the super hypollinator, and distribute it at all of the attack sites...I couldn't have done anything."

"But you're the inventor. You're the brains behind it all. That's why everyone's interested in you. No one cares about the hired muscle."

Drakken took a slow breath as his expression became irritated.

"And so...I'm jealous."

Shego shook her head. "I think you've got the wrong emotion there, Doc."

"No. I'm jealous for your honor. For your glory. You've always had it in spades, and suddenly...we become heroes and everyone drops you like you never existed."

"Is that what we are now?" Shego asked quickly, finding herself even more tense. She angled her body slightly away from him. "Heroes?"

When Drakken didn't answer she glanced back at him. He looked thoughtful and a bit sad.

"I think...most of the world is really only treating me like those two women back there," he said.

Shego turned back to him in confusion. "What?"

He looked up. "We may have stopped an invasion and saved Earth from a horrible fate, but...it won't really change anything."

Shego considered for a moment and suddenly remembered the words of the song he had sung. He had sang of the injustices of the human existence, whether by chance or by selfish design, and the tendency of humankind to choose the negative over the positive.

"So you think as a hero the world is supposed to be some utopia? If we're villains we would just be making it even worse, you know."

Drakken grimaced and then an ironic smirk turned up one corner of his mouth. He didn't say anything, but turned to walk down the sidewalk. He paused and reached out his hand to her.

Shego felt a shiver even though the night was hot. He was looking directly into her again, like he had in the restaurant. Only even more-so. She noticed for the first time that his eyes were an almost impossibly deep blue.

She nervously placed her hand in his, and he gently tugged her to walk alongside him as they continued on slowly to the parking lot.

"So..." she began shakily, "whether we're good guys or bad guys, the world is gonna be a mess," she concluded.

Drakken hummed as he looked ahead thoughtfully with an almost melancholy in his eyes.

A few minutes passed. Shego felt that tension again and the night suddenly seemed to be too hot.

Or maybe it had something to do with the gentle way he held her hand.

"So...which mess do you want?"

They were a few feet from the hover-car, but Drakken stopped. He turned to her and reached for the medal on his chest out of habit, and looked down when he remembered it was gone. He pursed his lips.

"Neither."

Shego's brow rose, and she looked at him in question.

"All of this just showed me...it's not...as important to me as I thought it was."

Shego felt uneasy suddenly and carefully pulled her hand away from him, hugging herself again in the summer heat.

"No matter where we go, all I can think about is...that you deserve to be standing on every stage with me. And I can't wait until the speeches are over so I can get back to you. And how...even though there's no reason for you to come with me, you always do."

Shego shivered again as the thought she'd been pushing away was suddenly forced to the front of her mind by his words.

Why did she go with him?

She realized he'd fallen silent and she looked up. He was staring into her soul again, waiting for...something, from her.

She shrugged nervously, but couldn't think of any words to say. She looked away at nothing.

Drakken reached up to her arm and pulled her hand away. After a moment of resistance she let him.

He took her other hand and brought them together up in front of him as he stepped closer to her. Their hands nearly touched each other's chests for how little space he left between them. Shego's heart began racing. She looked up at him. Drakken's soul-searching expression softened.

"You don't have to be jealous," he said, a tiny smile taking over his features.

"Why not?" Shego asked. Why was her voice suddenly so thin? Why was she acknowledging what she'd felt back at the bar? Why was her heart pounding and her frame trembling?

"Because... There's no chance you'll ever lose me."

For what felt like an eternity they simply stared at one another in a mixture of awe and giddiness. And then the familiar pink flower led Drakken's vine down to their joined hands. Shego was startled when the vine wrapped around her wrists and lifted her her arms up and over Drakken's head, looping them around his neck. He placed his own hands comfortably on her waist and grinned. When Shego spoke, she was surprised at the tremor in her voice.

"D-didn't think you'd know what to do with a woman Doc, after that display back in the bar."

Drakken pursed his lips into a thoughtful smirk. "With the right woman," he finally said. The vine still on Shego's wrists tugged slightly and knocked her off-balance so she fell against Drakken's chest.

"So...so you don't want to be the world's hero...or dictator?" Shego said nervously, still trying to avoid what was becoming completely unavoidable.

Drakken shook his head slowly. "Either way...will just lead to heartbreak. No one is really, or would be, on our side."

Shego thought back to the words of the song he had sung that he had just echoed in the defining statement. And she thought also of the words he had spoken just moments before, declaring that she would never lose him.

She realized then that through it all, she had thought of them as a single unit. Even though the world had treated her differently, she hadn't been thinking of them as two separate lives that could diverge from one another at any moment. Her thoughts were always about what 'they' were.

Apparently, so were his.

"If it's not about the world anymore...then what are we?" she asked.

Drakken smirked and circled her waist with his arms, pulling her tightly against him. "You tell me."

He was giving her a knowing look. Shego was embarrassed by the flush that came to her cheeks. But he was right. She had started it with her impulsive kiss back inside the bar. And while she didn't yet understand the feelings surging through her and preventing her from maintaining any coherent thoughts, she did know...she liked the feel of his arms around her. She really liked it. And even though she was the one who started it...he was communicating with startling clarity how he wanted it to finish.

But he still left it up to her.

Her wrists had been released and the vine had vanished. She brought a hand down to lightly stroke his jaw as she smirked.

"I was jealous," she admitted. It was easier to say that, than any of the things his piercing eyes were communicating. "Maybe...of the world, too."

"Not necessary. I told you. You'll always have me."

She felt a fluttering of anticipation in her chest as she rose up on tiptoe and circled his neck with her arms. She thought of his song again.

"I'll always choose your side," she said.

The summer heat was overtaken by the warmth in her heart as they sealed the promise with a powerful kiss.

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

A/N: The song he sings is "Break Your Heart" by Natalie Merchant.

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 6, Number 12

The Flat Five

It’s November, and the culture is telling us to be thankful again, at least from a distance. We’re a prickly, argumentative bunch here at Dusted, but I think we can all agree on gratitude for our health, each other and the music, good and bad, that comes flooding in from all sides. So while we may not agree on whether the best genre is free jazz or acid folk or vintage punk or the most virulent form of death metal, we do concur that the world would be very dull without any of it. And thus, seasonably overstuffed, but with music, we opine on a number of the best of them once again. Contributors this time include Bill Meyer, Andrew Forell, Tim Clarke, Ray Garraty, Jennifer Kelly, Mason Jones, Patrick Masterson, Jonathan Shaw and Justin Cober-Lake. Happy thanksgiving. 

Cristián Alvear / Burkhard Stangl — Pequeños Fragmentos De Una Música Discreta (Insub)

Pequeños fragmentos de una música discreta by CRISTIÁN ALVEAR & BURKHARD STANGL

The acoustic guitar creates instant common ground. Put together two people with guitars in their hands together, and they can potentially communicate without knowing a word of each other’s language. They might trade blues licks, verses of “Redemption Song,” or differently dire remembrances of “Hotel California,” but they’re bound to find some sort of common language. This album documents another chapter in the eternal search. Cristián Alvear is a Chilean classical guitarist who has found a niche interpreting modern, and often experimental repertoire. Burkhard Stangl is an Austrian who has spent time playing jazz with Franz Koglmann, covering Prince with Christoph Kurzmann and realizing compositions that use the language of free improvisation with Polwechsel. This CD collects eight “Small Fragments Of Discreet Music” which they improvised in the course of figuring out what they could play together. Given their backgrounds, dissonance is part of the shared language, but thanks to the instrumentation, nothing gets too loud. Sometimes they explore shared material, such as the gentle drizzle of harmonics on “No5.” Other times, they find productive contrasts, such as the blurry slide vs. palindromic melody on “No6.” And just once, they flip on the radio and wax melancholic while the static sputters. Sometimes small, shared moments are all you need.

Bill Meyer

 Badge Époque Ensemble — Self Help (Telephone Explosion Records)

Self Help by Badge Époque Ensemble

 Toronto collective Badge Époque Ensemble display the tastefully virtuosic skill of a particular strain of soul-inflected jazz-fusion that politely nudged its way into the charts during the 1970s. Led by Max Turnbull (the erstwhile Slim Twig) on Fender Rhodes, clavinet and synthesizers with members of US Girls, Andy Shauf’s live band and a roster of guest vocalists, Badge Époque Ensemble faithfully resurrect the sophisticated sounds of Blue Nun fuelled fondue parties and stoned summer afternoons by the pool. Meg Remy and Dorothea Paas share vocals on “Sing A Silent Gospel” which is garlanded with Karen Ng’s alto saxophone and an airy solo from guitarist Chris Bezant; it’s a track that threatens to take off but never quite does. The strength of James Baley’s voice lifts the light as air psych-funk of “Unity (It’s Up To You)” and Jennifer Castle does the same for “Just Space For Light” during which Alia O’Brien makes the case for jazz flute — Mann rather than Dolphy — with an impressive solo. The most interesting track here is the 11 minute “Birds Fly Through Ancient Ruins” a broodingly introspective piece which allows Bezant, Ng and bassist Giosuè Rosati to shine. Self-Help is immaculately played and has some very good moments but can’t quite get loose enough to convince.

Andrew Forell  

 Better Person — Something to Lose (Arbutus)

Something to Lose by Better Person

Like any musical genre, synth-pop can go desperately awry in the wrong hands. The resurgence of all things 1980s has been such a prevalent musical trend in recent years that it takes a deft touch to create something that taps into the retro vibe without coming across as smug. Under his Better Person moniker, Berlin-based Polish artist Adam Byczyowski manages to summon the melancholy vibe of 1980s classics such as “Last Christmas” by Wham!, “Take My Breath Away” by Berlin, and “Drive” by The Cars, reimagined for the 21st century and set in a run-down karaoke bar. This succinct and elegant half-hour set pivots around atmospheric instrumental “Glendale Evening” and features three Polish-language tracks — “Na Zawsze” (“Forever”), “Dotknij Mnie” (“Touch Me”), and “Ostatni Raz” (“Last Time”) — that emphasize the feel of cruising solo through another country and tuning into a unfamiliar radio station. There’s roto-toms, glassy synth tones, suitably melodramatic song titles (including “Hearts on Fire,” “True Love,” and “Bring Me To Tears”), plus Byczyowski’s disaffected croon. It all creates something unexpectedly moving.

Tim Clarke

 Big Eyes Family — The Disappointed Chair (Sonido Polifonico)

The Disappointed Chair by Big Eyes Family

Sheffield’s Big Eyes Family (formerly The Big Eyes Family Players) released the rather fine Oh! on Home Assembly Music in 2016. Its eerie blend of folk and psych-pop brought to mind early Broadcast, circa Work and Non Work, before Trish Keenan and James Cargill started to explore more experimental timbres and themes of the occult. Bar perhaps the haunted music box instrumental “Witch Pricker’s Dream,” Oh!’s songs cleaved along a similar grain: minor keys, chiming arpeggiated guitar, spooky organ, in-the-pocket rhythm section, plus Heather Ditch’s vocal weaving around the music like smoke. The Disappointed Chair is much the same, enlivened with a touch more light and shade, from succinct waltz “(Sing Me Your) Saddest Song,” to the elegant Mellotron and tom-toms of “For Grace.” “From the Corner of My Eye” is stripped right back, with an especially affecting guitar line, plus Ditch’s vocals doubled, with the same words spoken and sung, like a voice of conscience nagging at the edge of the frame. It’s a strong set of songs, only let down by the boxy snare sound on “Blue Light,” and on “The Conjurer,” Ditch’s lower register isn’t nearly as strident as her upper range.

Tim Clarke

 Bounaly — Music For WhatsApp 10 (Sahel Sounds)

Music from Saharan WhatsApp 10 by Bounaly

The tenth installment in Sahel Sounds’ Music For WhatsApp series introduces another name worth remembering. In case your attention hasn’t been solely faced on the ephemeral charms of contemporary Northwest African music in 2020, here’s the scoop: Each month, Sahel sounds uploads a brief recording that a musician from that corner of the world recorded on their cell phone and delivered via the titular app, which is the current mode of music transmission in that neck of the woods. At the end of the month they take it down, and that’s that. This edition was posted on November 11, so set your watch accordingly. Bounaly is originally from Niafounké, which was the home of the late, great Ali Farka Touré. Since civil war and outside intervention have rendered the city unsafe for musicians of any speed, he now works in Mali’s capital city, Bamako, but his music is rooted in the bluesy guitar style that Touré championed. Accompanied solely by a calabash player and surrounded by street sounds, Bounaly’s singing closely shadows his picking, which is expressive without resorting to the amped-up shredding of contemporary guitarists like Mdou Moctar.

Bill Meyer  

 Cash Click Boog — Voice of the Struggle (CMC-CMC)

Last year, Cash Click Boog made a few very noticeable appearances on other people albums (especially on Lonnie Bands’ “Shred 1.5” and Rockin Rolla’s First Quarter) but his own Extras was a minor effort. This Californian rapper was always a dilettante at music, but that was his main appeal and ineradicable feature: you always knew that he’s always caught up in some very dark street business, and he appears in a booth once every blue moon, almost by accident. He is that sort of a player who always on the bleachers, yet when they let him on the field he always does a triple double or a hat trick (depending on a kind of sport).

Voice of the Struggle was supposed to be his big break, the album in which he would expend his gift for rapping while remaining in strictly amateurish frame. Sadly, Boog has chosen another route, namely going pop. He discards his amateur garbs almost completely and auto-tunes every track. If earlier he was too dark even by street standards, now almost all the tracks could be safely played on a radio. The first eight songs are more or less pop-ish ballads about homies in prison, tough life and the ghetto. By the time we reach the last three tracks where Boog recovers his old persona, it’s already too late. The struggle remains but the voice is gone.

Ray Garraty 

 The Flat Five — Another World (Pravda)

The Flat Five musters a great deal of Chicago musical fire power. Alt.country chanteuse Kelly Hogan, Andrew Bird collaborator Nora O’Connor and Casey McDonough sing in Andrews Sisters harmonies, while NRBQ mainstay Scott Ligon minds the store and Green Mill regular Alex Hall keeps the rhythm steady. The sound is retro —1930s radio retro — but the songs, written by Ligon’s older brother Chris, upend mid-century American pieties with sharp, insurgent wit. A variety of old-time-y styles are referenced — big band jazz, country, doo wop and pre-modern pop — in clean, winking style. Countrified, “The Great State of Texas” seems, at first, to be a fairly sentimental goodbye-to-all-that song, until it ends with the revelation that the narrator is on death row. “Girl of Virginia,” unspools a series of intricate, Cole Porter-ish rhymes, while waltzing carelessly across the floor. The writing is sharp, the playing uniformly excellent and the vocals extra special, layered in buzzing harmonies and counterpoints. No matter how complicated the vocal arrangements, no one is ever flat in Flat Five.

Jennifer Kelly

 Sam Gendel — DRM (Nonesuch)

Normally, Sam Gendel plays saxophone in a classic jazz style. You might have caught him blowing dreamy, airy accompaniments on Sam Amidon’s last record, for instance, or putting his own spin on jazz standards in the solo Satin Doll. But for this album, Gendel experimented with ancient high tech — an Electro Harmonix DRM32 drum machine, some synthesizers, a 60-year-old nylon-string guitar —t o create hallucinatory fragments of beat-box-y, jazz-y sound, pitched somewhere between arty hip hop and KOMPAKT-style experimental electronics. “Dollars,” for instance, laces melancholy, Latin-flavored guitar and crooning with vintage video-game blips and bleeps, like a bossa nova heard dimly in a gaming arcade. “SOTD” dances uneasily in a syncopated way, staccato guitar runs paced by hand-claps, stuttered a-verbal mouth sounds and bright melodic bursts of synthesizer. “Times Like This” poses the difficult question of exactly what time we’re in—it has the moody smoulder of old soul, the antic ping and pop of lush early 00s electronics, the disembodied alien suavity of pitch-shifted R&B right now. The ringer in the collection is a cover of L’il Nas’ “Old Town Road,” interpreted in soft Teutonic electro tones, like Cluster at the rodeo. It’s odd and lovely and hard to get a bead on, which is pretty much the verdict for DRM as a whole.

Jennifer Kelly

 Kraig Grady — Monument of Diamonds (Another Timbre)

MONUMENT OF DIAMONDS by Kraig Grady

The painting adorning the sleeve of Monument of Diamonds is entitled Doppler Effect in Blue, and rarely has the cover art’s name so accurately described the sound of the music paired with it. The album-length composition, which is scored for brass, saxophones and organs, consists almost entirely of long tones that Doppler in slow motion, with one starting up just before another peters out. The composer, Kraig Grady, is an Australian-based American who used to release albums that purported to be the folk music of a mythical land called Anaphoria. Nowadays he has no need for such subterfuge, since this lovely album holds up quite well on its own merits. Inspired by Harry Partch and non-Western classical music systems, Grady uses invented instruments and strategically selected pitch intervals to create microtonal music that sounds subtly alien, but never harsh on the ears. As the sounds glide by, they instigate a state of relaxed alertness that’ll do your blood pressure some good without exposing you to unnecessary sweetener.

Bill Meyer  

 MJ Guider — Sour Cherry Bell (Kranky)

Sour Cherry Bell by MJ Guider

MJ Guider’s second full length is diaphanous and monolithic, its monster beats sheathed in transparent washes of hiss and roar. “The Steelyard” shakes the floor with its pummelling industrial rhythms, yet shrouds Guider’s spoken word chants with surprising delicacy. “Body Optics” growls and simmers in woozy synth-driven discontent, while the singer lofts dreamy melodic phrases over the roar. There’s heft in the low-end of these roiling songs, in the churn of bass-like synthetics, the stomp of computer driven percussion, yet a disembodied lightness in the vocals, which float in pristine purity over the roar. Late in the disc, Guider ventures a surprisingly unconfrontational bit of dream pop in “Perfect Interference,” sounding poised and controlled and rather lovely at the center of chiming, enveloping synthetic riffs. Yet the murk and roar makes her work even more captivating, a glimpse of the spiritual in the midst of very physical wreck and tumult.

Jennifer Kelly

 Hisato Higuchi — キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? (Ghost Disc) 

キ、Que、消えん？ - Ki, Que, Kien? by Hisato Higuchi

Since 2003, Tokyo-based guitarist Hisato Higuchi has quietly released a series of equally-quiet albums, many on his own Ghost Disc label, which is appropriately named. Higuchi's work on this and the previous two albums of his "Disappearing Trilogy" is a sort of shimmering, melancholy guitar-and-vocal atmosphere — downer psych-folk in a drifting haze. His lyrics are more imagery than story, touching on overflowing light, winter cities, the quiet world, and the transience of memories. As the guitar floats slowly into the distance, Higuchi's voice, imbued with reverb, is calmly narcotic, like someone quietly sympathizing with a friend's troubles. These songs, while melancholy, convey a peacefulness that's a welcome counterbalance to the chaotic year in which we've been living. Like a cool wind on a warm summer evening, you can close your eyes and let Higuchi's music improve your mood.  

Mason Jones

 Internazionale — Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade) (Janushoved)

Wide Sea Prancer (At The Blue Parade) by Internazionale

It’s been nearly half a decade since Copenhagen’s Janushoved first appeared in these annals, and in that time, a little more information — and a lot more material — has cropped up to lend some context to the mystery. The focus, however, steadfastly remains with the music — perhaps my favorite of which among the regular projects featured is label head Mikkel Valentin’s own swirling solo synth vehicle Internazionale. In addition to a reissue of 2017’s The Pale and the Colourful (originally out on Posh Isolation), November saw the release of all-new songs with Wide Sea Prancer (At the Blue Parade), 14 tracks of gently abrasive headphone ambient that carry out this type of sound very well. Occasionally there is a piano (“Callista”) or what sounds like vocals (“El Topo”), but as it’s been from the start, this is primarily about tones and moods. Notes for the release say it’s a “continuation and completion of the narrative set by the release Sillage of the Blue Summer,” but it’s less the narrative you should be worried about missing out on than the warmth of your insides after an uninterrupted listen.

Patrick Masterson    

 Iress — Flaw (Iress)

Flaw by Iress

Sweeping, epic post-metal from this LA four piece makes a place for melodic beauty amid the heaviness. Like Pelican and Red Sparrows, Iress blares a wall of overwhelming guitar sound. Together Michelle Malley and Alex Moreno roust up waves and walls of pummeling tone as in opener “Shame.” But Iress is also pretty good at pulling back and revealing the acoustic basis for these songs. “Hand Tremor” is downright tranquil, with wreathes of languid guitar strumming and Malley’s strong, gutsy soprano navigating the full dynamic range from whisper to scream. “Wolves” lumbers like a violent beast, even in its muscular surge, there’s a slow, anthemic chorus. Likewise, “Underneath” pounds and hammers (that’s Glenn Chu on drums), but leaves space for introspection and doubt. It’s rare that the vocals on music this heavy are so good or so female, but if you’ve liked Chelsea Wolfe’s recent forays into ritual metal, you should check out Iress as well.

Jennifer Kelly

Junta Cadre — Vietnam Forever (No Rent Records)

"Vietnam Forever" (NRR141) by Junta Cadre

Junta Cadre is one of several noise and power electronics projects created by Jackson Abdul-Salaam, musician and curator of the long-running Svn Okklt blog. As the project’s name implies, Junta Cadre has an agenda: the production of sound that seeks to thematize the ambiguities of 20th-century radical, revolutionary politics. The project’s initial releases investigated the Maoist revolution in China, and the subsequent Cultural Revolution of the late 1960s and 1970s. Vietnam Forever shifts topics, to the American War in Vietnam, and tactics, including contributions from other prominent harsh noise acts and artists: the Rita, Samuel Torres of Terror Cell Unit, Leo Brucho of Controlled Opposition and others. Given those names, Vietnam Forever is as challenging and rigorous as you might expect. Waves of dissonant, electronic hum and fuzz accumulate and oscillate, crunching and chopping into textured aural assaults; wince-inducing warbles and needling feedback occasionally assert themselves. Abdul-Salaam’s harsh shout cuts in and out of the mix. The tape (also available as a name-yo’-price DL on Bandcamp) presents as two side-long slabs of sound, both over seventeen minutes long, both completely exhausting. At one point, on Side A, Abdul-Salaam repeatedly shouts, “Beautiful Vietnam forever!” It’s hard to say what he means. An affirmation that Vietnam survived the war? That its people and culture endure? Or that the U.S. can’t seem to shake the war’s haunting presence? Or even a more worryingly nihilistic delight in the war’s carnage, so frequently aestheticized in films like Apocalypse Now (1979), Full Metal Jacket (1987) and Da Five Bloods (2020)? The noise provides no closure. Maybe necessarily so.  

Jonathan Shaw  

 Bastien Keb — The Killing of Eugene Peeps (Gearbox)

The Killing of Eugene Peeps is a soundtrack to a movie that never was, a noir-ish flick which winds restlessly through urban landscapes and musical styles, from the orchestra tremors of its opening through the folky group-sing of “Lucky the Oldest Grave.” “Rabbit Hole” wafts by like an Elephant Six outtake, its woozy chorus lit by glockenspiel notes, while “God Bless Your Gutters” conjures jazzy desolation in piano and mordant spoken word. “All the Love in Your Heart” shimmers like a movie flashback, a mirage of blowsy back-up singing, guitar and muttered memories. “Street Clams” bristles with funk and swagger, an Ethio-jazz sortee through rain slicked streets. What’s it about? Musically or narratively? No idea. But it’s worth visiting these evocative soundscapes just for the atmosphere. It’s a film I’d like to see.

Jennifer Kelly

 Jesse Kivel — Infinite Jess (New Feelings)

Nostalgia haunts the new solo album from Kisses guitarist/singer Jesse Kivel. Infinite Jess is full of that knowing melancholy of The Blue Nile, Prefab Sprout and The Pale Fountains that was so magnetic to a certain brand of sensitive young thing seeking to articulate their inchoate visions of a future steeped in romance and adventure. Think wistful mid-tempo songs wrapped in cocoons of strummed guitars, shuffling percussion and wurlitzer piano fashioned into a catalogue of adolescent radio memories. These tunes are topped by the understated sincerity of Kivel’s voice and lyrics which effectively evoke the place, time and emotion of his vignettes. The production suffers occasionally from a distracting reliance on too perfectly rendered tropes — overly polite drum programming, thumbed bass, blandly smooth electric piano — but the overall effect is oddly beguiling. Infinite Jess closes with a charmingly wobbly instrumental cover of Don McLean’s “Vincent” played on the wurlitzer that captures the poignancy of the melody and serves as a fitting epilog to the record.

Andrew Forell

 Kyrios — Saturnal Chambers (Caligari Records)

Saturnal Chambers by KYRIOS

The corpsepaint-and-spiked-codpiece crowd are still making tons of records, but fewer and fewer of them are interesting or compelling. The retrograde theatrics and cheap pessimism can be irritating enough (I’d rather be reading Schopenhauer, thanks); it’s even more problematic when the songs can muster only the vividness and savor of stiff leftovers from the deep-freezer’s darkest and dankest corners. Still, every now and then a kvlty band that follows the frigid dictates of black metal’s orthodoxy creates a set of songs worth listening to. This new EP from Kyrios is super short, comprising three tracks in just under 10 minutes that pull off that neat trick: when it’s over, you want to hear more. Sure, the dudes in the band call themselves silly things like Satan’s Sword and Vornag, but the tunes are really good. Check out the churning strangeness of “The Utterance of Foul Truths.” Kyrios claims Immortal, Enslaved and Dissection as primary influences, and the band recognizes the stylistic debt they owe to Deathspell Omega (let’s hope Kyrios digs the twisted guitars and weird-ass time signatures, but passes on the National Socialism declaimed by that French band’s vocalist). Stuff gets even more engaging when bleeping and blooping keyboards vibrate at the edges of the mix, giving the songs a spaced-out vibe. “Saturnal Chambers”? Maybe Kyrios has met the astral spirit of Sun Ra somewhere along their galactic journeys into the heavenly void. He liked bleeping, blooping noises and gaudy costumes, too.

Jonathan Shaw

 Matt Lajoie — Light Emerging (Trouble In Mind)

Light Emerging by Matt Lajoie

The second volume of Trouble In Mind Records’ Explorers series is, like its predecessor a cassette that comes concealed within a brown slipcase. Like many other discretely wrapped products, the fun is on the inside. This time, it’s a tape by guitarist who understands that toes aren’t just for tapping. At any rate, I think he’s managing his pedals with his feet. Most likely Lajoie has spent some quality time listening to mid-1990s Roy Montgomery. But since a quarter century has passed, he doesn’t just stack up the echoes. Sped-up tones streak across the surface of this music like swallows zooming close to that sheet you hung on the side of your barn the last time you had everyone over for a socially distanced gathering to watch Aguirre, The Wrath of God. Wait, did that really happen? Maybe not, but if someone were to make a fake documentary about the hanging of the projective surface, this music is suitably epic to provide the soundtrack.

Bill Meyer

 Lisa/Liza — Shelter of a Song (Orindal)

Shelter of a Song by Lisa/Liza

Lisa/Liza makes a quietly harrowing sort of guitar folk, singing in a high, ghostly clear soprano against delicate traceries of picking. The artist, real name Liza Victoria, inhabits songs that are unadorned but still chilling. She sings with childlike sincerity in an ominous landscape of dark alleys and chilly autumnal vistas. She wrote this album while chronically ill, according to the notes, and you can hear the struggle against the body in the way her voice sometimes wavers, her breath comes in sudden intakes. But, as sometimes happens after long sickness, she sometimes strikes clear of the physical, achieving an unearthly purity as in “From this Shelter.” A touch of plain spoken magic lurks in this one, in the whispery vocals, the translucent curtains of guitar notes, though not much warmth. “Red Leaves” is earthier and more fluid, guitar flickers striking out from a resonant center, and the artist murmuring dreamily about the beauty of the world and its transience.

Jennifer Kelly

Keith Morris & The Crooked Numbers — American Reckoning (Mista Boo)

It's easy to imagine Keith Morris as perpetually frustrated. His last album, after all, took on psychopaths and sycophants, and the title of his new release American Reckoning doesn't suggest happy thoughts. There's plenty of bile on these five tracks, of course, but Morris approaches the album like a scholar. The opening verse describes the US as “Machiavellian: the mean just never ends” before referencing Othello and Yo-Yo Ma (the latter for a “yo mama” joke). If Morris and the Crooked Numbers just raged, they might be justified, but they'd be less interesting. Instead, they use a wide swath of American musical styles to thoughtfully consider racial (and racist) issues in our contemporary society. “Half Crow Jim” turns a Southern piano tune into a surprising tale about the fallout from slavery. It's a sharp moment, and it highlights that the only disappointing part of this release lies in its brevity. Morris has said he has more music on the way, and if he continues to mix styles, wordplay, and cultural analysis, it'll be worth a study.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Tatsuya Nakatani and Rob McGill — Valley Movements (Weird Cry)

Valley Movements by Tatsuya Nakatani / Rob Magill

In most percussion ensembles, the gong-ist is a utility player, charged with banging out a note once or twice per composition for drama and ideally not screwing it up. Tatsuya Nakatani works on a wholly different level, transcending the possibilities of this ancient, archetypical instrument with vision and an unholy technique. More specifically, his set-up includes at least two standing gongs, each about as tall as he is himself. He plays them with mallets, standing between, in blur speed rolls that range all over the surface of the instrument. The sound he evokes is distinctly unpercussive, more resembling string instrument glissandos than any form of drums, a full-on high-register wail of sound that he sculpts and roils and coaxes into compositions of incredible force and complexity. He also plays a bunch of other percussion instruments, little drums and cymbals which he layers on top of each other so that when he strikes one, the others resonate. It is quite an experience to see him at it, and if you ever get a chance, you should go. Here, he works with the saxophonist Rob McGill unfurling a single 40-minute improvisation at a studio in the appealingly named Truth or Consequences, New Mexico. McGill is an agile player, laying alternately lyrical and agitated counterpoints onto Nakatani’s rhythms, carrying the tune and threading a logical through line through this extended set. He finds frequencies that complement Nakatani’s antic, nearly demonic drum sounds and knows when to let loose and when to let his partner through the mix. The result is a very high energy, engaging adventure in sound that evokes a rare response: you wish you could hear the drums better.

Jennifer Kelly

 Overmono — The Cover Mix (Mixmag)

Mixmag · The Cover Mix: Overmono

It’s a really weird time to be advocating for club music of any kind, but Overmono’s Everything U Need EP out recently on XL again showcases what the fraternal duo known better as Tessela and Truss do best: melding thoughtful percussion patterns with these airy, gliding synth melodies that work at home just as well as in the club (theoretically, anyway). It’s not just original material they do well, though; whether it was the Dekmantel podcast a few years back or their live cassette from Japan or this mix for Mixmag, Ed and Tom Russell also have a knack for pacing in their sets. This one features stuff from the new EP as well as three unreleased tracks (not counting the Rosalía remix, which remains one of the year’s most addicting) and names both old and new — listen for DJ Crystl’s 1993 jungle jam “Deep Space” sidled up next to Smerz’s new skyscraper “I Don’t Talk About That Much.” If that sounds like everything you need, lock in and let Overmono do the hard work. Truly, they do not miss.

Patrick Masterson

 Pole — Fading (Mute)

As Pole, Stefan Betke’s work has always been both comforting and disconcerting. The amiotic swells and heartbeat bass frequencies generate a warm human feel in his music despite their origins in serendipitously damaged equipment. Fading, his first album in five years explores Betke’s reactions to his mother’s dementia and reflects on the nature of personality, memory and soul. Building on his trademark glitchy beats and oceanic bass tones, the eight tracks echo a consciousness unmoored by the fog of unfamiliarity that smothers and distorts but never completely submerges awareness. “Tölpel” (slang for klutz) evokes impatient fingers tapping out the guilty resentment of the forgotten and the frustration of the forgetful. The title track closes with a woozy waltz punctuated by recurrent sparks. Fading is a deeply felt work; somber, reflective, stumbling towards understanding and acceptance, alive to the nuances and petty nettles of grief and above all beautiful in its ambivalence.

Andrew Forell

Quakers — II: The Next Wave (Stones Throw)

II - The Next Wave by Quakers

After eight years of silence following 2012’s self-titled debut, Stones Throw production trio Quakers (Portishead’s Geoff Barrow as Fuzzface, 7-Stu-7 and Katalyst) dropped the 50-track beat tape Supa K: Heavy Tremors out of nowhere in September and now, just two months later, are back with another 33-track behemoth that allows a litany of emcees to shine. Calling this The Next Wave is a bit of a stretch when you consider many of the voices on here are from guys who’ve been in the game for years or even decades (Jeru the Damaja, Detroit’s Phat Kat and Guilty Simpson, Chicagoan Jeremiah Jae, etc.), but even so, the dusty grooves and Dilla loops prove perfect foils for many of those who hit the mic. My favorite might be Sageinfinite slotting in with the organ grinder “A Myth,” but even if you don’t like it, everyone’s in and out quick. If you’re burned out on Griselda, give this a go for 1990s vibes of a different kind.

Patrick Masterson   

 Rival Consoles — Articulation (Erased Tapes)

There are deep pockets of silence in “Articulation,” ink black stops between the thump and clack of dance beat, sudden intervals of nothingness amidst limber synthetic melodies. London-based producer Ryan West, who records as Rival Consoles, layers sound on sound in some tracks, letting the foundations slip like tectonic plates on top of one another, but he is also very much aware of the power of quiet, whether dark or luminously light. Consider, for instance, his closer, “Sudden Awareness of Now,” whose buoyant melody skitters across factory-sized fan blasts of whooshing sound. The rhythm is light footed and agile, pieced together from staccato elements that hold the air and light. Like Jon Hopkins, West uses the glitch and twitch to insinuate the infinite, chiming overtones and hovering backdrops to represent a gnostic, communal state of existence. “Vibrations on a String” may jump to the steady thump, thump, thump of dance, but as its gleaming plasticine tones blow out into horn blast dissonance, the cut is more about becoming than being.

Jennifer Kelly

  Sweeping Promises — Hunger for a Way Out (Feel It)

Hunger for a Way Out by Sweeping Promises

The title track bounds headlong on a rubbery bassline, picking up a Messthetick-y blare of junk shop keyboards. All the sudden, there’s Lira Mondal unleashing a giddy screed of angular pop punk tunefulness, her partner in Sweeping Promises, Caulfield, stabbing and stuttering on guitar. In some ways, this band is straight out of late 1980s London, jitter-flirting with offkilter hooks a la Delta Five or Girls at Our Best. In others, they are utterly modern, lacing austere pogo beats with lush, elaborate vocal counterpoints. “Falling Forward” is a continuous rush of clamped in guitar scramble and agile, bouncing bass, anthemic trills breaking for robotic chants; it’s a mesh of sounds that always seems ready to collapse in a heap, but instead finds its antic balance just in time.

Jennifer Kelly

Martin Taxt — First Room (SOFA)

First Room by Martin Taxt

Sometimes a room is more than a room. In the matter at hand, it is a space that proposes a state of mind and a consequent set of experiences. It is also the score for a piece of music that extrapolate that state into the realm of sound. The cover of First Room depicts a pattern of tatami mats that you might find in a Japanese tea room. Martin Taxt is a microtonal tubaist and also the holder of an advanced degree in music and architecture (next time someone tells you that some good thing can’t happen, remember that in Norway you can not only get such a degree; you can then go ahead and present a CD that shows your work. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in the stars, but in our society.). This music takes inspiration from the integrated aesthetic of the tea ceremony, using carefully placed and deliberately sustained sounds to create an environment in which subtle changes count for a lot. The album’s contents were created by mixing together two performances, one with and another without an audience. Taxt and accompanist Vilde Marghrete Aas layer long tones from a tuba, double bass, viola da gamba and sine waves. Their precise juxtapositions create a sense of focus, somewhat like a concentrated version of Ellen Fullman’s long string music, and if that statement means something to you, so will this music.

Bill Meyer

 Ulaan Janthina — Ulaan Janthina II (Worstward)

Ulaan Janthina (Part II) by Ulaan Janthina

Part two of Steven R. Smith’s latest recording project echoes the first volume in several key aspects. It is a tape made in small numbers and packaged like a present from your favorite cottage industry; in this case, the custom-printed box comes with an old playing card, a hand-printed image of jellyfish, an old skeleton key and a nut. And Smith, who most often plays guitars and home-made stringed instruments, once more plays keyboards, which enable him to etch finer lines of melody. The chief difference between this tape and its predecessor is the melodies themselves, which have begun to attain the evocative simplicity of mid-1970s Cluster.

Bill Meyer

 Various Artists — Joyous Sounds! (Chicago Research)

Joyous Sounds! by Various Artists

It’s been less than two years, but Blake Karlson’s Chicago Research imprint has already made its presence known both in the Windy City and beyond as fine purveyors of all things industrial, EBM, post-punk and experimental electronics. There were two compilations released within days of one another toward the beginning of October, and while Preliminaries of Silence veers more toward soothing ambient textures, Joyous Sounds! is more upbeat and rhythmic (Bravias Lattice’s “Liquid Vistas” is a beautiful exception). My favorite track is Club Music’s “Musclebound” (not a Spandau Ballet cover, as it turns out), but the underlying menace of Civic Center’s “Filigree” and Rottweiler’s pummeling “Ancient Baths” sit alongside merely unsettling fare like Lily the Fields’ “Porcelain” well. If you’re not already aboard or just have a Wax Trax-sized hole in your heart, you have a lot of work ahead of you with this label’s consistently superlative output.

Patrick Masterson

  Kurt Vile — Speed, Sound, Lonely KV (Matador)

Given John Prine's passing from COVID-19 this year, the new Kurt Vile EP might be received as a tribute to the late artist, with extra significance coming from Prine's appearance here. Four years in the works, Speed, Sound, Lonely KV offers more than just tribute, though. Prine's guest spot (if you could call it that) on his own “How Lucky” certainly makes for a moving highlight, the two singers fitting together nicely as Prine's gruff tone balance's his partner's smoother voice. Vile also covers Prine on “Speed of the Sound of Loneliness,” and he adds “Gone Girl” by Cowboy Jack Clement as he takes further cosmic steps.  

His two originals here complete the record, and, mixed in with the covers, draw out the lesson. Vile's entire EP blends the country influences with his more typical dreamy sound, the guitar work bridging the gap between a songwriter's backing and something more ethereal. Nashville, it seems, has always suited Vile just fine, and hearing him embrace that tradition more immediately adds an extra layer to his work. Putting a cowboy hat on his previous aesthetic puts him opens up new but related paths for him, and the five tracks here could play on either a Kris Kristofferson mix or a laid-back indie-rocker playlist. Either way, they'd be highlights on an endless loop.

Justin Cober-Lake

 WhoMadeWho — Synchronicity (Kompakt)

Danish trio WhoMadeWho — drummer Tomas Barfod, guitarist Jeppe Kjellberg and bassist/singer Tomas Høffding — make enjoyable indie dance music that suffers somewhat from lack of personality and a tendency toward a middle ground. That may be due to an effort to accommodate a roster of Kompakt-related collaborators including Michael Mayer, Echonomist and Robag Wruhme. While there’s nothing bad and some pretty good here, the individual songs flit by, pausing briefly to set one’s head nodding and feet tapping, before evaporating from the mind. “Shadow of Doubt” featuring Hamburg’s Adana Twins has the kind of driving bass that anchored New Order hits but also, unfortunately, the unconvincing vocals only Bernard Sumner could get away with. More successful moments like the eerie piano riff and jazz inflections of “Dream Hoarding” with Frank Wiedemann, the arpeggiated house of “Der Abend birgt keine Ruh” featuring Perel and miserablist Pet Shop Boys inflected closer “If You Leave” do stick. Synchronicity might work well on the dance floor, but it doesn’t quite sustain at home.

Andrew Forell