#you know like. meditation music? a lot of it just repeats a sound far too often

[crystalisopod]

I know loud sounds being a sensory issue is the most common (?) but it kinda irks me that that's what people always assume for me. and I do actually have issues with sound, but it's not a huge problem, and it's never in the way people assume it to be

[jahayla-parker]

Hii, I was wondering if you had any tips for us ADHD folks for focusing on tasks because I’ve had a horrible week with focusing on tasks even as small just doing the dishes and it’s really stressing me out. No pressure to answer this, I really like your Freddy fics btw, they are soooo comforting and your most recent was is PERFECTION.

Thank you for your question. I’m sorry you’re struggling! As a fellow ADHDer, I know how difficult this can be and that many people don’t understand what it’s like and that it’s NOT laziness or a lack of willpower.

I have put a readmore break for those not interested or otherwise trying to get to other posts. 💜

Sleep! Omg sleep is ssooooo important. I struggle with this so much! (If you need more advice on how to fix this lmk). But sleep is crucial otherwise the symptoms will get worse as sleep deprivation only increases adhd symptoms.

Write down notes/ideas as they come. Don’t try to make yourself memorize or remember things when you don’t need to. My iPhone notes are so random but helpful! This will help get take the pressure off and allow your brain to rest.

Focus on easy wins! I cannot stress this enough!!!! ADHD paralysis/executive dysfunction can make everything feel overwhelming. Breaking tasks into smaller and more manageable tasks seems simple (and in terms of application it is) but it helps more than you’d think! It takes the pressure off of each task. Don’t forgot in getting it all done. Choose one task. Then, chose the first step(s) of the task and set some time (what seems manageable currently not what “you should designate” to it) aside to do it. Then give yourself some rest (see ideas below). Then repeat as needed.

Unless you have to, don’t force yourself to stick to a strict schedule. You might want to choose one important task to schedule if needed (ideally still do it the way mentioned above though). But don’t map out your whole day if it can be avoided. This feels, looks, and in many ways is, far too much. Ideally plan a rest activity too if you’re going to schedule anything.

Rest and self care is super important. This can look different from person to person. Especially downing on what your triggers are or what type of stimulation is best for you. For me and many others (but not all) prefer/find calming stimulation to be easier/better aka grounding. Examples of common grounding techniques include: painting (I alternate between my nails and a color by number set personally), coloring, drawing (for some, not me personally though), reading (varies a lot on effectiveness for people), yoga, etc.

Physical activity can help too but is understandably hard to do when these symptoms hit. Smaller/shorter/less intensity exercises are typically better and easier to get done when it feels like this. The key is rhythmic movement as studies have shown this to help (can help with ptsd too!)

Rhythmic activities examples (both physical and otherwise): Things like a few minutes of yoga/stretching, rolling/bouncing/tossing a ball, (drawing/paint/color can be included here too), tap feet/fingers/etc at a calm but steady pace, find something that makes (or can make) a soft sound and initiate that sound in a calm steady pace, listen to meditation music, petting/brushing a pet, etc.

Don’t strive for perfection. This is a hard one for me too. But, aim to complete something even if it’s not perfect. The pressure to perform well can in itself make the task harder. In these times, completion (even of a tiny step within a task) is perfection!

Motivate yourself! Completion isn’t enough motivation, so don’t even try to argue that idea lol. Instead, reward yourself for reaching small milestones. Motivation is a great psychological tool to overcome this. It can be whatever is the most exciting for you (please consider your health as well. -mostly referring to avoiding substance and addictive behaviors)

Hopefully this helps!💜

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Wrote this a few days ago, put it into drafts, its not finished but i dont think it ever will. its non fanfiction stream of consciousness of my mind.

I wrote this yesterday in my head and somehow, now that I actually have a document in front of my eyes, I can’t remember the beginning. I’m sure it was a snappy beginning, something cool and artsy, that now has slipped my mind. Oh well.

Primarily, I was thinking about a song. A song written by German acapella group Wise Guys and that I first heard on a cold November night in 2016. The song is called “Ein Engel” or “An Angel” and yes I know how this sounds, but bear with me.

The first time I heard that song was in a concert hall in south Germany on a cold day in November in 2016. The band, which had always been a favourite of mine, even in my very long years of “German music is the worst��� was doing a final tour together before splitting up in summer 2017. So I was there at their last concert in the area, with my mom, her boyfriend, my brother and his then girlfriend, now wife. 

When the lights went lower and the room’s atmosphere got more intimate and they announced this song I did not know until then, mostly because I had not very thoroughly listened to their newest albums at this point, I couldn’t help but feel ripped out of the scenery and planted back a year earlier.

See, my father died in October 2015. Terrible stuff. Last time we had been at the Wise Guys concert, he’d been there with us, instead of my mom's new boyfriend this time. He’d not sung along as far as I know because he wasn’t the type, but I remember him watching us having fun and having fun at us having fun. He later bought us T-Shirts and a poster and a CD that we listened to the entire car ride home. He did this a lot, enjoying himself when we enjoyed ourselves. When I was 14 he picked me and two school friends up form a boyband concert and when he turned on the CD-player it was my cd of that boy band playing. He had picked it up from my room just to do us that specific favour after the concert.

That year in November I was not far from the place I was in November 2015 around a similar time. It was actually just a few streets down. My mother and I drove down to this city to attend a prayer, which is called a “Taize-Prayer.” And no, neither of us are very religious, but let me introduce to you what that is. Taize is a tiny village somewhere in the mountains of France, you can go there and find spirituality or something, I have not been. 

But what is very distinctive about it, is that it has these easy to sing along songs that repeat over and over again, sometimes 10 minutes long for four lines. They are in different languages and they exist in all kinds of languages. Even if you can’t speak the language, after a few times repeating you just fall in with the singing crowd. And that is what it is meant to do, string you along as you let your mind turn off and just sing. You can close your eyes, you can stop singing and listen to the others. It’s what I imagine meditation is like.

Well, sometimes the catholic (maybe also protestant?) churches hold a Taize prayer like that, lots of candles, lots of singing, a few actual prayers in between. We went that day, my mom and I, my brother was there with his girlfriend too, because my dad had died a month ago and we felt like it was right. It was just a day before we were gonna drive out in the rain to the forest where we buried his urn, so it also fit the general vibe of the weekend.

During that evening, in which I sat freezing on a church seat staring at a candle right in front of me, because facing it all seemed too much, we sang a song that has since ingrained it into my brain. It goes like that: “Meine Hoffnung, meine Freude, meine Stärke, mein Licht (My hope, my happiness, my strength, my light)// Christus meine Zuversicht, auf dich vertrau ich und fürcht’ mich nicht, auf dich vertrau ich und fürcht’ mich nicht (Chris my confidence, I trust in you and don’t fear, I trust in you and don’t fear)”. It is religious, you see, but what hit me so hard was this idea of needing a light to shine for you. Maybe that makes no sense to you reading this, but it did to me.

When it is november and cold, and dark and your father has just died a month ago, all you wish for is someone to bring you hope and light and happiness and strength. I wanted someone like Christ to come and help me trust in him, be my confidence. But unfortunately I’m a non-believer, as much as that could have helped with those times. Telling myself my Dad was still there looking over me, that God was holding his hand or whatever, instead of sitting in his empty bedroom with his sweater on and crying my eyes out. Certainly would have been better.

So here I was, a similar place, a year had gone by. The first Christmas without my dad, when I had to listen to my mom say she thinks she killed my father and then in turn having to tell her that no, deciding to turn off life support when someone is no longer able to survive on their own is not killing them, came and went. My first year half an orphan also passed by. And soon I was back here again, low lights, not candles this time, songs that I could fall into and sing along at first and then one I did not know was suddenly announced to me.

The Wise Guys did acapella, often songs with humour in them, songs that made me laugh. They have an entire rap about the story of Hamlet that always gets a chuckle out of me. But my favourites were always the more serious ones, when those older men show off their songwriting abilities from many years of writing. Our family particularly loves “Radio” which is a song that essentially tells the story of a couple driving through the rain in a convertible while the radio is blasting music and not caring about getting wet. When it plays in our family car we all sing along so loud, it’s like we are the radio.

“Ein Engel” is not like “Radio” or not even like the ones tattooed on my heart like “Herbst am See (Autumn at the lake)” or “Das Wasser (The water)”. It is not even the most acapella heavy song, it has nice harmonies and such, as many of them do, but it is not remarkable in that way. It is rather simple I think and yet, I was taken by it so much that I briefly considered leaving the concert hall to go hide in a toilet stall, before I could pull myself together.

The song is about a guardian angel that is always with you, and no, I know what you think, it is not meant religiously. I think it is very explicitly not meant religiously. The symbolism of angels is just too easy to use with what they want to talk about. In religion, at least in catholic christan one of the south german variants that I was exposed to growing up, a guardian angel is sent by god to look over you, make sure you are fine and keep you safe. Because God loves you so much or whatever they say.

This song, however, is not about that really. It opens with lines like “Ein Engel, der dir deinen Weg weist" (An Angel who shows you the way) & “Ein Engel, der dich an die Hand nimmt” (an angel that takes your hand.) You think: this is religious stuff, ugh, but then the verse ends with “Du sagst, diesen Engel gibt es nicht, doch dieser Engel ist da (You say, this angel does not exist, but it is there)” only to follow in the chorus with “Dieser Engel ist da, jeden Tag in verschiedenen Gestalten” (this angel is there, everyday with different faces)” // “Doch er ist leicht zu übersehen, denn er kann überall sein” (he is easy to miss, because he can be everywhere).

That’s the thing, you know, it is not about an angel, it's about all of them. It hit me instantly as I sat there listening to it, that the song was right, that it was neatly fitting into a reality I’ve had all my life. Sometimes you are meant to meet people, they are meant to help you move forward and deal with life. You can call that God’s love if you want, but I always believed destiny was a thing, that some meetings are not just stupid happenstance, but that they are meant to be.

Whatever you say, I will not stop believing that meeting two wonderful boys, my bestest friends in the world, right after I broke up with my first boyfriend in summer 2009 and with him lost most of my friend group, was not destiny. And no, my first boyfriend was not a terrible monster, at least not at first, and I just had his friends as my friends and naturally that ended with me no longer loving him. THere was no bad blood - at first at least- I was just very lonely.

That was when I met this guy, my age, a little weirdo nerd like me. We talked about anime and such and he introduced me to this other guy, also our age, also a weirdo like us and we three became a throuple. Inseparable three. They both had a crush on me in some way or another I think, but I could not choose. I used to say that I wished they would just become one person so I could marry them both. In hindsight, now that I am older and know more about polyamory, I’m pretty sure I was just in love with them both. 

Either way, they picked up my lonely ass and built me up, so when I was laying on my back on the last day of 2009 one hand around either of theirs and thought I could never be any happier than in that moment, I thought of how lonely I had been just half a year earlier, how much they had changed me. Eventually of course all of that came to an end, but now, still, I think meeting them was destiny. I needed them, maybe they needed me too, and so we found each other.

That’s it about the angel with the many faces you know? It is always there, but you don’t see it. The song goes on to describe the angel as someone who turns on the heat when it is cold, someone who tells you how it is even if you don’t want to hear it, someone like that. And that exists, you know, like the song says, you meet that angel everyday, just with a different face. You are never alone, he is always with you in some form or another.

I’m sure I met him that hot summer day in 2018 when I almost collapsed from running too much. I had moved to Poland the year prior and my boyfriend and I lived in this tiny apartment with just one room, which was cramped but outside we had a nice park and that summer we went running about 3 times a week. That day it was so hot and I overdid it a little, causing my head to spin and my eyes to darken, so I sat down on a bench.

A lady came by with a stroller which had a baby in it. She looked at me and asked me if I was alright in Polish. My Polish is crappy, so I just nodded violently. She looked still and then reached into her stroller and took out a bottle of water to hand it to me. I of course tried to decline with the aggressive gesturing of a person that doesn’t speak the language of its opposite, but she insisted. I opened the water, drank, and when I wanted to give it back she shook her head strongly and waved with her hand. I said thank you about 10 times and drank the full bottle almost at once. You can’t tell me the angel didn’t visit me then.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 25

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2175

Warnings:  Pregnancy, Labor/childbirth, medical proceedures

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Chapter 25: Sarah and Rose

As Wanda got closer and closer to her due date, we all started hovering around her in case she went into labor.  I was by her side almost constantly, as was Natasha and Sam.  The others seemed to take shifts, but we all went to bed at the same time in the same bed which hadn’t always been a given before.  Everyone was a little worried that she’d go into labor early and that someone wouldn’t be here for it so they were staying pretty close by.

In the end, we were all worrying for nothing.  She made it to thirty-seven weeks just fine and they decided to induce her.

Wanda wanted to go through a natural labor despite the advice that for twins it would be very difficult.  She knew she’d most likely need some sort of intervention at some point, but she thought that given her new powers, she might be able to get through most of it without any.  She was so into being pregnant, and so connected with it, she wanted that to be the case right until the end.

By the time we got to her induction date, our new nannies had been working for us for nearly a month.  They hadn’t been super actively involved with the care of the kids yet.  With the ten of us, things like baths, stories, and bedtime were covered.  We had maids and cooks, so they didn’t have to clean up or feed them.  They’d done a few drop-offs with Happy driving the car and they would help during the morning chaos to get them ready to go, but otherwise, they were mostly not needed and were just getting the feel of the household.

The first real taste of really having full responsibility for taking care of the kids was after breakfast on Wanda’s induction day when we kissed Riley and Pietro goodbye and went down to the medical ward with Wanda.

They’d designed a delivery room just for the three of us because Wanda had very specific things she wanted there, but Tony was adamant that we all get the best medical equipment too.  The room had all the medical things needed in case of an emergency.  The bed, while you couldn’t tell it to look at it, was an adjustable hospital bed.  The functionality of it was hidden in dark purple linen and soft pillows.  The whole room could be lit up in harsh hospital lighting, but with the flick of a switch, the room was lit in low soft lights that were placed in sconces on one side of the room.  The walls were painted in mint green, with a burgundy feature wall on one side.  There was a large clover-shaped bathtub in one corner of the room.  A sitting area with couches that would fit all of us.  A spot to do yoga or meditation with yoga mats and exercise balls, and around the room were scented candles we could light.  Music that Wanda had selected was being piped through the speakers and there was a large screen TV if she wanted to watch anything.  All the rest of the medical equipment was hidden behind a secret wall.

It had to be opened up, to begin with, because of the induction process, and Wanda waited impatiently on the bed, strapped up to a fetal heart rate monitor until she was told she was allowed to get up and walk around.

“Just a little white longer, záĭka,” Natasha soothed, running her fingers through Wanda’s hair as Wanda flinched with a contraction.

“I know I should relax while they are still mild,” Wanda reasoned.  “But I hate this equipment around me.”

“We’ll get rid of it as soon as we can and you can try the meditation thing you wanted to do,” I said.  “But I’m not getting on the floor with you.”

Wanda giggled.  “I’m much more pregnant than you are.”

“Clearly,” I teased.  “But you have flying powers.  I just get to know when you’re in pain.”

“I’ll get on the floor with you,” Sam said.  “Don’t worry.”

“And I’ll go through the meditation script we’ve been practicing,” Bucky added.

Tony was pacing up and down by the door, and he poked his head out to see where the doctor was.  “Oh good, there you are,” he said, holding the door open and letting Doctor Schroeder in.

She chuckled.  “You better not get my patient all wound up, Mister Stark,” she said as she passed him and approached Wanda.

“Yeah, Tony,” Bruce said, patting the couch next to him.  “Come and sit down.”

Tony went and sat next to Bruce, who pulled him close with his large hand.  Tony couldn’t quite keep still even with that extra comfort.  His foot kept tapping on the linoleum floor.

“Okay,” Doctor Schroeder said, looking Wanda over and checking how far she was dilated.  “We can put all this away again.  Everything looks good.  I’m going to want to check on the twins again in a few hours, but we’re going to be in for a long haul.  The nurses will keep checking on you and you can call me if you need me.  Don’t be scared of using pain medication, Wanda.  You aren’t cheating if you need something to help you through it.”

Wanda nodded as Doctor Schroeder removed the equipment from her.  “I know,” she said.

“This is going to take a long time.  Make sure you all take care of each other and try and relax as much as you can,” she said.

When everything was packed away Bucky offered Wanda his hand and helped her to her feet.  “Do you want to try and meditate?”

“Yes, please,” she said.  “Can someone dim the lights and light some candles?”

I went and lit the candles as FRIDAY dimmed the lights and Wanda took a seat on the ground with Bucky.

“Take a deep breath in.  Focus on how the air fills your lungs…”  Bucky began.

Doctor Schroeder hadn’t been kidding when she said we were in for the long haul.  Wanda managed to meditate with Bucky for two hours until the doctor returned.  She checked how far along she was and put the fetal heart rate monitor again.

Wanda had barely progressed, so she was left alone again and this time the guys all took turns massaging her back while she dozed.  After another check-up, we took turns going to get lunch, while Wanda continued to try to sleep.  It was another four hours before her contractions got to the point they were painful enough that she couldn’t nap through them.  She got up and began using the exercise ball and Clint and Sam took turns doing stretches with her and providing someone to lean on during contractions.  She tried doing yoga an hour later and then started pacing the room with Tony.

After thirteen hours of labor the contracts had gotten close together and painful to the point she wasn’t able to do anything while she was having them.  She hopped into the bath with Thor.  He would rub her back and hold a jet of water against it as she rested her head on the edge of the tub.

After sixteen hours she was waning.  Doctor Schroeder would make her get out of the tub every few hours to check how things were progressing and she was starting to take these four or five-minute catnaps between contractions.

“I can’t do it,” she moaned as another hit while the babies were being monitored again.

“Do you want some drugs?”  Tony asked.  “She can have drugs right.”

“She’s passed the point where she can have an epidural, but she can take something else,” the doctor answered.

“No, no drugs,” Wanda whined.  “I don’t want them.”

I patted her forehead with a damp cloth.  “You’re not failing them if you need help, honey.”

“I know… I don’t want them though,” she said.

“Okay.  It’s okay,” Doctor Shroeder soothed.  “It shouldn’t be much longer now.”

Not much longer was two and a half more hours before she reached the transition period. Wanda was exhausted and crying and I could feel her distress passing through from her to me through the threat.  “I can’t… I can’t do it.  I was wrong.”

“Breathe, záĭka,” Natasha soothed.  “You can do it.  I know you can.”

“This is the last bit, Wanda,” Bruce said.  “Those little girls will be in your arms soon.”

It lasted around half an hour and the nurses stayed with us until it was time to push when Doctor Schroeder was called in too.

“That’s a girl, Wanda,” Doctor Schoeder praised.  “When you feel the urge, push down as hard as you can.”

I held one of her hands while Sam held the other and Clint dabbed her forehead with a damp cloth.  She was pushing for half an hour until Doctor Schroeder took out the vacuum to help get the first little girl out.  When her head was free, Wanda pushed as hard as she could and the rest of her joined us in a messy and noisy entrance.

“Here she is, Wanda,” Doctor Schroeder said, holding up the little girl.  She was tiny with pale brown skin and a thatch of curly black hair on the top of her head.

“Look at her, Wanda,” I said.  “She’s perfect.”

“Hello, Sarah,” Wanda murmured.

“Which one of you would like to cut the cord?”  Doctor Schroeder asked as she clamped it.

“Let me,” Natasha said, stepping forward.

The cord was cut and she was whisked off for a moment to be cleaned up while Doctor Schroeder checked the position of Rose.  “Aright, Wanda.  She looks good.  Right in line to come next.  You can keep pushing when you’re ready.”

It seemed to take a moment before the next contraction hit and Wanda started pushing again.  She was exhausted and her eyes had begun to flicker pink.  It was twenty-three minutes before Rose entered the world.  It took a moment for her to make any sound but when she did, it was a loud wailing.

“You did it, Wanda!”  I praised leaning down and kissing her forehead.  “Look at our daughter.”

“I did it,” she repeated softly, collapsing down on the pillows.

Sam went and cut the cord and as Rose was whisked away to be checked over, Sarah was brought back to us and placed on Wanda’s chest.  “There you go, mommy,” the nurse said.

“Okay, Wanda,” Doctor Schroeder said.  “I know you’re really tired, but you still need to deliver the placenta.”

She nodded slowly but wouldn’t take her eyes off Sarah.  “I can do it.”

“It’s the easy part,” she assured her.

Wanda started to push again, but without the straining that she did with the babies.  None of us were paying too much attention to that though.  We were all looking at our daughter.

“Look at the little mark the vacuum made,” Clint said.  “Poor little pickle.”

“Don’t worry about that,” one of the nurses said.  “It’ll go away in no time.”

“Yeah, she’s here,” Steve said.  “That’s the important part.”

As Doctor Schroeder took the placenta away the nurses weaved in and out of our group, fussing over Wanda and the babies.  Wanda tried breastfeeding them, but she was extremely exhausted and it didn’t last long.

A nurse approached with some toast and juice for Wanda.  “You must be starving now.”

She smiled and nodded slowly.  “And tired.”

“Have something to eat, and moms and dads, quickly have a go holding the twins.  They’re going to need to go into the incubator soon.  Then we’ll take you to your room to sleep.”

“Me first,” I said, taking Rose from her.

“Hey!”  Sam argued.  “I helped make her.”

“You can hold Sarah,” I said and poked out my tongue at him.

He chuckled and picked the tiny little bundle up.  “Hey there, little one,” he whispered.

“I cannot believe you did this with no drugs, Wanda,” I said.  “You’re definitely a superhero.”

She shook her head.  “I was scared,” she admitted.  “With the amount people have messed with my head.  I didn’t want to not feel in control.”

“The epidural doesn’t do that though,” I said.

“I know… but it’s a huge needle,” she said.

“Oh honey,” I said, leaning down and kissing the top of her head.  “It’s all done now.”

“Yeah,” Clint said.  “Now it’s just sleepless nights and diaper changes.”

“Alright, Elise, quit hogging that baby,” Natasha said, coming and taking Rose from me.

Wanda hummed and relaxed back into the pillow.  “Hey, sweetheart,” Steve said to her gently.  “Do you want me to help you to the shower?  Then we’ll get you to your room.”

She nodded slowly and Steve helped her to her feet.

“Two down, two to go,” Bruce said, as Sam placed Sarah into his hand.

Natasha let out a strained laugh.  “Let’s not hurry them along too fast, Bruce,” she said.  “I’m in no rush to go through any of that.”

// NEXT

[fiddlepickdouglas]

To The Wick - Bobby’s Birthday

Disclaimer: I’m not usually a fic writer, I tend to stick to original stuff, but I just felt like I had to write this for Bobby today. I definitely wrote this in one go and did no proofreading, so I’m very sorry for that.

Summary: 2.3k wd. Bobby celebrates with Rose and Ray while still dealing with survivors guilt. Lots of fire imagery and comparisons.

WARNINGS: deals with death, symptoms similar to anxiety or PTSD, funeral mentions, survivor’s guilt

Staring at the flame, he fought every impulse to snuff it out with his fingers. For a moment, he contemplated on its gentle flickering, not unlike himself at this time. Every moment of its existence a fight against very strong currents, against all but one element surrounding it. All it knew was heat and the need to grow outward, but not being able to without the permission of exterior forces.

The words to the Beatles’ birthday song drummed on his ears, but his mind was in the back of the cavern where the music could only echo at a distance. Shaking his head and pulling his mind out of the depths of the cave, Bobby let a small smile loose for Rose and Ray and blew out the candle on the cupcake before him.

His friends cheered and they all bit into their own homemade cupcakes. Rose had been perfecting her recipe, and so far these were the best.

“You’re going to open a bakery,” Bobby told her through a mouthful. “And I’m going to be your most faithful customer.”

“But I get to do all the taste-testing, right amor?” Ray teased, earning a hand messing up his hair from Rose.

“Mi abuela didn’t pass this down and I didn’t tweak it so you could eat it for free all the time,” she said in a sassy tone, kissing his cheek.

Ray raised his eyebrows. “Noted,” he replied with a smirk.

Bobby finished his cupcake, entertained by the two lovebirds.

“So,” Rose started saying. “Now it’s time to open gifts!” She leaned away from her seat and grabbed an object from the counter a few feet away, then handed it to Bobby.

Tearing apart the purple wrapping and blue ribbon, he looked down at the small stack of CDs. Meditation Sunrise, The 7th Chakra, and Celtic Wind sat in his hands like rectangular dumbbells, each weighing heavier on his heart than he cared to admit. Suddenly, Ray was draping something over his head, and as he looked down he found himself wearing a necklace of prayer beads.

“You guys!” he chuckled, trying to sound genuine. It was his birthday, he was supposed to enjoy all of this. The gifts were actually great, too. “Thanks, this is awesome. You’ll both have to join me in a session, you know.”

“We were thinking we could do it with you today, if you wanted to,” Rose told him.

Bobby sat back in surprise.

“O-okay,” he stammered. He caught the look in her eyes that was hoping this wasn’t too much, to which he gave her a small smile of assurance. It was impossible to blame them for anything he felt today, especially when she and Ray were putting in so much effort to make it full of the joy and happiness it was meant for. It didn’t mean he hadn’t subconsciously stuck his hand in his pocket to where he kept a lighter. Just to feel that it was there, of course.

“Is it okay if we do it later tonight?” he asked. “I just have a quick meeting with my producer and a couple other things afterward to do. And I can pick up some incense while I’m out.”

“Great plan!” Ray exclaimed. He didn’t elaborate, but Bobby could guess that all the eye contact with Rose meant something he needed no part in. He got up from the table and grabbed another cupcake for the road.

“Say we meet back at, like, eight or nine?” he asked, grabbing his leather jacket and keys.

Rose looked up from being halfway embraced with Ray, barely paying attention. “Sounds perfect!”

********

“So, after talking with Jedd we decided we wanna cut out the second repeat of the chorus in Long Weekend. It makes it easier to put into radio time.”

Bobby stared at Callum, his producer, in disbelief.

“But we can just do a radio edit, then, why cut it off the album track?”

Callum blinked condescendingly.

“You think you’re just going to get radio edits out like that before you have an album out, kid?”

“Have you listened to it?” Bobby challenged. “That album is gonna shoot through the charts and I know you know that.”

“Tch,” Callum acted like he’d been shot by a Nerf gun. “That’s a bold statement from a guy who didn’t write these songs.”

A fireball seemed to form inside his chest, and Bobby wished he could open his mouth and shoot it toward the man. He clenched his teeth.

“You signed the deal, you recorded these songs, and you are getting this opportunity from us. We - need I say this - are professionals. Trust me, I’ve dealt with music written by dead people before. You’ll thank me in a few years.”

He was trembling to keep the fireball from burning down the entire room, and clenched his fists. Focusing on a stupid paisley design on the carpet, he avoided eye contact with Callum. There was no way he was letting Luke’s songs go any different than what they had played together for so many years. He had read the contract well enough, hadn’t he? It was hard enough not crediting the rest of them, but it was honor Luke with letting his music connect to people or honor Luke by letting him keep his songs to the few who heard them from the source. Not to mention Alex and Reggie being equal parts in that equation.

“Fine,” he forced out. “Make the cut. See how it does. I’ll bet you that when I make a remaster in twenty years with greater freedoms because I’m a respected artist, fans will ask why you cut it to begin with. I’ve got better people to see than you right now.”

He only saw Callum shaking his head out of the corner of his eye as he pushed through the door of the studio, flipping the bird behind him. It would’ve been nice to simply say over my dead body, but he was already bulldozing over his three best friends and it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that he could walk along the street, get into his car, and drive off in a huff. Not fair that he could go to the abandoned grocery store parking lot and yell until his lungs were sore. It was absolutely inadequate that he remained on this earth, soul inside his body, light in his eyes, breath and blood and bones and all. He screamed in that parking lot until he was dizzy.

Bobby laid in his seat, exhausted, until twilight approached, and then started the engine again. The route was so well-known now that he knew exactly when the lights turned so he never had to make a stop. He came to the right stop and parked on the shoulder, looking wistfully out the window.

So far, he hadn’t managed to set foot on the grounds again after the funerals had passed. Still, he came and made sure his line of sight at the closest angle to get a proper look at them. They were all in a row, even though only two stood vertically. Reggie’s parents had cremated him and only gotten a stone plaque that acted as a placeholder while they kept his urn with them at home. It was nice of them to at least contribute to keep the three together.

Today still wasn’t the day he was going to venture closer to them. Bobby wasn’t going to handle it well after the conversation he’d just left. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket and flicked it off and on. It hadn’t really been a habit he had before, but there was something weirdly comforting about it. For something that couldn’t think, it really understood him. He didn’t want to use it on anything, he just wanted to watch it exist before disappearing. The fire was them. But he could control it.

Taking in a deep breath, he went to get some incense.

********

Mats were spread in the backyard with tiki torches and a camping lantern in the center, more paper lanterns hanging from the tree above. Bobby had gotten a nice incense burner a few weeks back and was excited to put it on display. Ray was in his swim shorts, already seated with his legs crossed and repeatedly going “oommmm” and breaking it with giggles when Rose swatted at him playfully.

“We’re not doing that kind, tontoroso,” she teased.

“Pero me quiero - ah!” Ray cried as she accidentally thumped him with the boombox she’d been carrying out.

“Oh, lo siento mi amor, me desculpes!” she cried, setting it down to address the minor bump now forming on his head.

Bobby sat patiently as they babbled for a moment ensuring that Ray wasn’t harmed too much, smirking a little. He didn’t really mind being the third wheel on his own birthday - it helped take away from some of the guilt.

“Okay!” Rose said finally, standing and adjusting the bottom of her tank top. “I think we should try the Meditation Sunrise, so it will guide us through every motion and we don’t have to think.”

“Agreed,” Bobby nodded, with Ray doing the same. “The less thinking the better.”

Rose pressed play on the first track as all three of them sat in their assumed meditative positions with their eyes shut. Calm, synthesized music floated out of the speakers of the boombox, with light chimes twinkling here and there.

“Welcome to Meditation Sunrise. This first exercise is to help you free yourself from resentments and embrace forgiveness. Listen to my words. Focus on my voice and soon you will be free of anything that stirs up anger. This can be anger toward another person, anger toward a higher being, or even anger toward yourself…”

Bobby felt his heartbeat increasing and strained to keep his eyes closed. He tried to sit up straighter so that he could breathe in even deeper. He could hear Ray and Rose exhaling, sounding so calm and relaxed, and let out his own breath hoping it came out the same way.

“Forgive faults. Resentment comes from Latin, meaning ‘to feel again’. We all have these feelings, and they all visit us from time to time. Sometimes we hold onto things in the past that have caused harm. These things were painful. Letting these feelings continually visit us repeats that pain. In this exercise we are here to let it go…”

Taking a careful peek through his eyelashes, Bobby checked to see what Rose and Ray looked like. They sat close together, holding hands with the remaining ones shaped in circles. Rose had her head tilted back, so free and open to the sky, so light from the weight that wasn’t sitting on her chest. The flames from the tiki torches flickered and Bobby squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t focus on them instead.

“Now we are going to envision that we have a shovel in our hands. We’re going to dig. Get that shovel deep into the rich soil and lift it up. Set the soil to the side. Smell the fresh, upturned earth. If you want to, you can kneel down and take some into your hands. Let the soft, rich earth be cool to the touch. Let it calm you.

“Imagine you are digging in a garden and planting a seed. It’s a seed of happiness. It’s small right now, but will grow as we continue through our meditation. We just need to go a little deeper into the ground…”

Bobby’s mind was transported back to the cemetery he’d visited earlier. It travelled all the way to the funerals - open ground, lowering cheap wooden boxes. His hand filled with a small amount of dirt.

“Stop,” he muttered, eyes remaining closed. Rose and Ray were still entranced.

“Stop, stop, turn it off, I can’t -” He felt his breathing get uneven, and Rose was already in front of him, cradling his face and wiping away tears that he didn’t realize had escaped. He jerked away from her touch. Ray rushed to stop the playback on the CD.

All he felt was heat rising everywhere. In his veins, all over his skin, the fireball growing like a small sun in his chest, and apparently tears could be hot, too. There was too much rage building up inside. Bobby let out a frustrated cry and kicked over the incense burner, the camping lantern doing down with it. Turning, he almost hit a paper lantern and he whacked it off the tree as he headed back inside the house.

Rose caught up to him and frantically tried to block his path.

“Bobby, I sincerely apologize, I did not know it was going to be like that,” she placated. He paused as she stood before him, pleading. “If you need me to, I can get you a different present, I just wanted to do this because you had seemed interested and thought we would have a fun night together - Bobby, I am so sorry!”

Looking back at her, he sighed heavily and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t need to get me anything else,” he told her solemnly.

Ray had joined them and put an arm around each of them. A twinge of reminder came to Bobby as he recalled Luke doing the same thing for him. But coming from Ray, it still had the warmth and love connected to it that he needed. He looked between the two of them.

“That was a bust,” he said. They all chuckled a little, albeit with heavy hearts. “But having you guys still made it a good birthday.”

His friends both muttered an “aw” and they came together in a group hug. Bobby sighed as they both squeezed him so tightly before breaking away.

“So what do we wanna do, then?” he asked.

“We could watch Wayne’s World,” Ray suggested.

“Baby,” Rose objected, giving him a look.

“What?” he lifted his hands defensively. “I could make a dip, we could grab some tortilla chips, you know I love dips.”

“But Bob -”

“No, I like that idea,” Bobby interrupted. “Ray makes some good dip, I’ll give him that. I think we can hold off on the meditation for now. Wayne’s World it is.”

[sasskarian]

First Line Meme

I was tagged by @asaara-writes. Thank you, my dearest! <3 

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

My Heart and I -

If there’s one thing about Evelyn Swann that the entire Commonwealth knows by now, it is her love of music. Silence does not mark Evelyn’s arrival anywhere— instead, the soft tones of Billie Holiday do, crooning about mountains moved for love. Or the sultry voice of Lady Day herself, Ella Fitzgerald, floating around her and the companions like a bubble of the past, dreaming on into the future. Heavy footsteps beat out a tempo contrasting Butcher Pete and his big old ‘knife’ and everywhere she goes, she trails ribbons of jazz and cheer.

Like Afterimages - 

The settlers call her a survivor. Sanctuary calls her a savior. Codsworth cries when she returns from the wastelands, dragging in another minute— heh— victory for the Minutemen, or another rescued synth she doesn’t tell anyone about. But Mama Murphy just calls her a ghost.

That’s what she is, after all. Just a two hundred year old ghost. Like a mirage, superimposed on the darkness, burned into immortality by nuclear fallout and tragedy. Evelyn is only sometimes here, those dark gray eyes a pair of rain clouds on the distant horizon, drifting on invisible fronts. The thunder is inside of her, too, a raging storm swirling in her chest, beating fists made of babies crying and gunshots rimmed in frost ringing out against her ribs.

The Thrill of Your Hand - 

Danse has been a soldier too long to be a deep sleeper.

That’s the first thing the Brotherhood trains you out of. The indoctrination comes later, because only a good soldier can be indoctrinated, and a good soldier has to wake up at the first hint of danger. So when he hears the first whimper from across the room, his eyes snap open.

Paladin’s Bubble - 

The Commonwealth is quiet tonight.

It’s not silent, by any stretch: Evie can hear the hounds in the distance, their mutated throats sending their boofs echoing through the streets of Boston even from a long distance, and somewhere— a mile or more— the whoop of a raiding party rises over the station’s lookout, too far away to do anything but pity the poor prey they’ve caught. Dogmeat grunts, his paws pushing against her armored thigh as he stretches. His ears are perked, though, so he’s just catching some rest while he can. Even the thwomp-and-hiss of her partner’s power armor is missing from the darkness, the red light of his scope the only thing highlighting his face in their little bubble of quiet.

After the Glitter Fades - 

“If there is a future to be had,” Fenris murmured, his lips hovering near Hawke’s, “I will walk into it gladly at your side.”

His gorgeous green eyes were fixed on hers and Hawke fumbled for a moment, a half-smile playing across her mouth as her fingers played with the crumbling stone behind her. Silly, but part of her almost wanted to believe him. With the smallest sound, Fenris leaned in, his gauntleted fingers sliding through her hair as he kissed her— it started out soft, a chaste brush of warm lips and warmer breath, but within a couple of heartbeats, it deepened into something that promised wildness and fire.

Glitter: Marginalia - (E)

She can’t remember what dragged her awake— only that it left a sour, desperate taste in her mouth like old coppers and the cheapest bottle of whatever would get her drunk enough to sleep.

Waking up with nightmares is nothing new. The Amell curse, as most of the Kirkwall film crews call it, has yet to hit Hawke directly, but it had taken her father (a stunt gone wrong) and her mother and uncle (an unlucky intruder)– had struck Carver, too. She and Garrett and Bethie are safe, so far, but it's only a matter of time until it circles back around. The curse is a generations-long predator, still and patient, and it will hunt them down one at a time if it has to  

Ah, Kirkwall, she thinks, some blend of annoyance and fondness and adrenaline mixing uneasily in her heart. You fuck with us again and again and still, here we are.

He Might Like That - 

“So. Let me get this straight.” Greef lifts his bad knee with a groan, settling it over his other leg so he can sprawl a little more indolently. Din’s HUD focuses in, shows the elevated temperature in the joint in a dark red, and he turns it off with a flicker of his eye. Greef lifts his glass again, takes a sip, and gestures with it before continuing. “You two. Not together?”

Where I Can’t Follow - 

The day Geralt of Rivia dies, he hears the whistle of the sword which almost kills him. There’s a series of tiny holes stamped along the spine of the blade, keeping weight down and adding a sinister shrill hiss through the air on each pass. The raiding party - if it can be dignified with such language - are nearly all armed with similar steel, with hunting horns, rattling chime-spangled shields, and bullroarer slings wailing and droning like an oncoming swarm of giant wasps. The effect is deafening, overpowering all efforts to coordinate the various companies on this mission.

Malicious Compliance - (M)

So this is how it feels to have a galaxy tremble at your feet.

Not just the galaxy, though— millions of lives shuddering under the weight of your boot on their necks cannot compare to the half-lidded gray-blue eyes drinking you in like you’re his salvation and damnation both. No, there is power in this, in these stolen moments with him, that rivals nothing else you’ve found anywhere among the stars.

He’s a brave man, your Captain.

Counting the Days (since Exegol) - 

“That’s good, Finn.”

Rey smiles, feeling the Force ebb and flow around Finn as he manages to lift himself a few inches off the ground-- along with the meditation mat, two glasses of water, and the plate of snacks they keep for anyone who comes to visit. Finn cracks an eye open, smiles back at her, and lands with a thump. For half a moment, she almost expects him to be disappointed that his training is progressing slowly: hyper-competency is a Stormtrooper trait he’ll never outgrow.

Star by Star - 

The galaxy looks different now.

It’s not just the cautious celebrations still happening, weeks later. And it’s not just the way people step back from her now, too much reverence in them for her comfort. It’s in the way she looks at the sky and sees the color of Luke’s eyes, and the gentle wind that feels so much like Leia’s hand, she cries. The way that Poe’s back straightens at the podium, broadcasting Republic news to everyone, and Finn’s hand clutching his under the table, their life forces bright and right in her senses.

Stardust and Memory (and a little bit of romance) - 

“Wow.”

Jaal chuckled against her ear, hands firmly on her waist; a good thing, probably, or she’d be on her face on the floor. “It is… a lot, I know.”

“No!” Sara protested, only wilting when Jaal tilted his head at her. “...okay, maybe a little. There’s just— a lot of them?”

Scars and Holes and Broken Things - 

Whispers follow him wherever he goes.

What’s left of the crew whispers in the halls, the mess, on the bridge, and conversations trail off when his ghost walks through, haunting the only place that's ever felt like home. Whatever they’re saying doesn’t matter, though—he doesn’t care. He’s too tired to care. He hasn’t slept more than his body demands in weeks. Tali’s immune system has already begun to destroy itself, and even though the Normandy is stocked with more dextro rations than it’s ever carried before—

Almost like Shepard knew. Always prepared, that’s my girl.

Heart of the Woods - (E)

You left the Templars, but do you trust mages? Can you think of me as anything more?

Less than a fortnight of sweet words, gentle touches, and stolen kisses are the only weapons she could levy against the trauma that shaped a man’s youth. And for a moment in time, Isera hoped.

Common Ground (isn’t so hard to find) - 

“Skkut! Ryder!”

“Sorry, Enroh— oh!” Sara tried to stop, bounced into a low bench, and crashed into a pile of bruised, groaning Pathfinder on the other side. At least this time, she remembered to shield her head as she skidded to rest against the wall. Lexi would be pleased. Another concussion would get her put back under the scanner and that just ruined everyone’s day. “...ow.”

A Language Reserved for Lovers - (M)

The first time you touch him, his skin flushes red; the first time he touches you back, he trembles. Interesting, since if there is a word to describe him, it is steadfast. But there is more beneath the easy surface, beneath the deadly grace and unflagging stamina. He is loyal, and good, and so fascinating under the burden of his name. But nineteen is a young age, even if you're only a little older, and he seemed so young at first, unsure and innocent— then he gave you that crooked little grin, and stole your heart with it.

Every Beautiful Thing - 

I would prefer to be Mary Shelley. She died a widow.

Despite a foolhardy counter, thrown in indifference and pride, Edith never really thought she would be a widow. Despite her foolish quip so many years ago, she is no Mary Shelley. And despite moderate success as an author and teller of stories, the only thing she and Shelley have in common is a belief in a world outside of the everyday, and widowhood.

Yesterdays - 

He’s always thought she was invincible.

Sure, Morrigan told them the truth of the Archdemon’s death, an account more grisly and heartbreaking than the one Riordan gave; just the sort of tale that might ensnare a young boy’s heart, give him delusions of grandeur, while an older man might look upon it with resignation. But the truth doesn’t sink in until now.

If You Ever did Believe - 

“There are people dying,” Isera repeated slowly, as if she could make her advisers understand what she'd seen. As if giving her memories voice might lift some of their weight in her heart. “We couldn’t even get to Redcliffe because of the fighting.”

Three days of being stuck on a horse, only to have to turn around after three skirmishes— their first mission to the Hinterlands had been a remarkable experiment in failure. Isera had learned her skills at the hands of the best of her clan, had fought alone for years, and yet the shock of tripping over Varric and accidentally hitting Cassandra with a ball of ice had made their first fight a near loss.

Some saviors, Varric had laughed afterward, staggering around like baby nugs.

Glitter: Velvet over Veridium - 

If anyone had ever accused Marian Hawke of being a reasonable adult human being, she might have laughed at them. No, she'd have pointed and then laughed at them. But under all her bluster, and all her immature jokes, her dirty one-liners and cheesy pick-up lines, there was an adult hidden in there somewhere.

Okay, maybe I put more than one opening line, but I have a thing for context, dammit! 

This got so long -- mobile users, I’m sorry omg. 

Forwarding the tag (no pressure as always!) to @mayihavethisdanse @athreehundredthirtythree @thebisexualmandalorian @natsora @loquaciousquark @valdomarx @theggning @cullywullycurlywurly @systlin and @third-rail-vip 

[dustedmagazine]

Rider/Horse — Select Trials (Ever/Never)

Select Trials by Rider/Horse

Rider/Horse makes hard-rhythmed, guitar-stabbed rants that are spare in structure but loud and riveting. The pandemic-bred partnership between Cory Plump and drummer Chris Turco (who has played, on occasion, with Trans Am and Oneida) strips Spray Paint’s formula raw, putting raucous, rambunctious, tactile and melodic drum fills into the spaces that other band members might have occupied.

As COVID shut down the economy of music, the two players found themselves holed up in Kingston, New York, an Ulster County burg a bit too far for daily commuting but long past its peak as a free-standing industrial hub. Plump had a music venue there, which had closed for COVID. The two met there and recorded these songs there as a meditative act, a way to reaffirm that they were still musicians and to keep the darkest parts of the lockdown at bay.

The collaboration sounds a lot like Spray Paint. The nihilist chant over stiff rhythmic cadences, the random slashes of guitar that arc like tracer bombs through the mix, all that will sound familiar to anyone who’s spent time with Into the Country. And yet, there’s stark force here that comes from just two guys making the loudest racket they can. There are fewer moving parts, but those parts pop.

And then there’s Turco’s drumming, which is at least as important as any other element. It’s ramshackle, rambunctious, textured, tactile and nearly melodic. Often his beats are a dialogue between various kinds of drum sound, where the kick drum and tom make a nattering kind of argument, repeated, interlocking, full of punch and fury. It absolutely makes sense that one of the tracks is called “Bodyslam Turco,” because that’s exactly what the drumming does, but no more so on this track than the others.

A wintery desolation pervades the album, an aura of greying slush and bedraggled Christmas lights left up through February. “Guns in the Snow” slams hard and heavy, the guitars splintering into a psychedelic haze, but the song combines two defining characteristics of upstate New York—firearms and bad weather. Economic depression makes an appearance, too, as “Nitetime White,” opens in a clattering atmosphere of anxiety and Plump declares “I don’t know where the money went.” The music battles dread, loneliness, uncertainty about purpose, but it also contains them. It’s a pandemic record, bristling with defiance, but not entirely sure of overcoming.

Rider/Horse locks into a very particular space and time, which is now (probably) over, but which will resonate for a long while to come. It’s so good musically that I’m eager to see it evolve, as Plump and Turco make music that isn’t defined by lockdown or pandemic. But for now, both horse and rider ride through blasted landscapes that we’ve only recently left behind. If it didn’t rock so hard, you might not want to go there.

Jennifer Kelly

[deathbydarkelves]

I decided to make playlists for Cathala and Tarinne plus explanations for why I chose each song because I entered one of those ADHD fugue states and if I didn't finish this task I would die

Anyway here are the two links (they're youtube playlists because I don't have spotify. I would obviously recommend using an adblocker if you're just gonna watch on youtube) and the explanations for each song are below the cut :) Each playlist is about an hour long.

For Tarinne’s:

1. Foggy Nights: I consider this her theme so putting it first as a sort of intro only makes sense.

2. Here’s a Health to the Company: I think this works as an example of her general disposition. She’s a people person, and always a fan of singing these sorts of songs in taverns, on ships, or what have you. It also kind of feels like a sendoff to soldiers, which I imagine symbolizes her joining the Sentinel Army and quickly thereafter fighting in the Third War.

3. Wartime Prayers: Somewhat self-explanatory, this is symbolizing her seeing war for the first time, but I also included it because the last line transitions SO WELL into the next song.

4. The Hollow: This song is an intro to an album I've never heard so I don't know the context, but I really love it because it sounds like someone praying to their deity and like I mean c'mon. Elune. Tarinne's praying to Elune to guide her through the war. Do I need to elabo-

5. Wave Walker: KILL DEATH MAIM AHAHAHAHA

6. Isil Elun’falo: Just a super rad fan-made night elf song that's basically "wow we sure do love Elune" said in twenty different ways for four and a half minutes. But it ROCKS and I LOVE it.

7. Chewing Cotton Wool: This song is about losing a loved one (I did have to check but yeah that's what it is) and I use it to symbolize Tarinne losing her mom during the war. The last line, which includes the song's title, I especially like. It's referring to how morticians (apparently) put cotton gauze in a corpse's throat and mouth to keep body fluids in and make the face look more natural. So there's a fun fact for you.

8. See U Soon (Song for Dad): Just a short lofi piece to rest a bit, and it was also chosen because the title's in reference to Tarinne growing closer to her dad after losing her mom. She still visits him at his leathers and furs shop in Stormwind fairly often, especially after dangerous adventures. She just wants to make sure he knows she's alright ;-;

9. No Lullaby: Right back into it with a song that I use to represent Tarinne's general feeling of not being able to go home because it's not there anymore. She's felt like this since the end of the Third War, but it's especially strong since the whole Teldrassil thing. But I like the ending, "who said you're on your own," because it contrasts the repeating of "alone" in the rest of the song. And it's kinda like "hey, listen, you're not the only one who feels like she can't go home." I mean that's probably how basically every single night elf feels right now skxnks

10. The Moss: This song juxtaposes classic fairy tales with scientific facts about the world and I love it to BITS. I'm using it here to represent both Tarinne's love for storytelling but also her sort of... part-time historian/archaeologist/conservator career.

11. Rasputin: I just associate this song with her for some reason and this was the best place to put it.

12. Electric Feel: Moving on to focus more on Tarinne's relationship with Cathala now. This is an extremely great and somewhat 😏 song that I also included because the electricity theme is appropriate because Cathala has lightning powers and y'know it's from Tarinne's perspective or whatever.

13. Bedroom Hymns: You know why this is here.

14. Movement: I can't talk about love songs without talking about Hozier, okay. This is just a nice, slower song to relax a bit with.

15. Never Let Me Go: I have an entire goddamn music video in my head with Cathala and Tarinne for this song and it’s very dramatic and emotional and I had to include this song or I’d die. Basically just listen to near the end of this song when she's repeating the title over and over, and imagine the two of them seeing each other at opposite ends of a battlefield after the dust settles and they rush towards each other and fall to their knees holding on as tightly as they can because they got separated early on and each thought the other was dead. Then you'll know how I feel when I listen to this song.

16. Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control: First of all I love the title, and second of all there's a big section in the middle (1:49 to 2:47) that I like to interpret as the two of them grappling with the fact that they're not really quite sure who or what they're fighting for anymore. Their people, yeah, but there's so many alliances and semi-permanent enemies and only-on-every-other-thursday-enemies all intertwined and the world is just so very confusing and they're trying to make the best of it. Elf school didn’t include international, interracial politics in its curriculum. It did however include how to properly plant trees, and AP calculus (this is a joke).

17. In Dreams: I like to imagine this song is something the two of them would say to each other, as a way of saying “even when everything we know is gone, even when the world ends, I will still be by your side. And if I’m not, don’t fear, for I will find you.” It makes a nice note to end on :)

For Cathala’s:

1. muse: Just a nice lofi intro to get us into things :) I don't see this song as her theme, like I do with Tarinne and the first song in her playlist, but I like it quite a bit. I don't actually really have a theme for Cathala yet, I'm currently going with a version of Way of the Monk from WoW's OST but I'm still looking for something better.

2. Frogs Singing: I included this because it's about just appreciating nature, which works because night elf and also mindfulness and meditation is a whole thing.

3. Tongues: This is a song about feeling distant from your peers which is like Cathala's whole existence! She's this weird mix of two cultures and ultimately she feels out of place regardless of where she is or who she's with. Also the theme with not understanding what people are saying works because the poor woman had to learn Pandaren from scratch and that shit ain't easy. I think blizz said somewhere probably that Common is just a language that EVERYONE knows inherently because Video Game but that's bullshit in my opinion. I'll allow spells that let you understand foreign languages to an extent (Comprehend Languages from D&D lets you understand the LITERAL meaning only, which I like), but every culture and species in the universe knowing Common is silly if you think about it for more than two seconds.

4. Kung Fu Fighting: I'm legally required to include this song. Also I prefer the Kung Fu Panda version, I'm sorry.

5. Harder Better Faster Stronger: I vicariously experience having a great work ethic through Cathala and that's why this song is here because she has 999 Determination and does Too Many push-ups every day or something idk. I was gonna say "every morning" but I have a headcanon that elves only need to sleep every couple of days (sort of a nod to "elves don't need to sleep at all" from D&D, and to explain why NIGHT elves are active at all hours of the day) so that doesn't work.

6. What's Up Danger: This song is Cathala's whole Vibe. Almost zero threat assessment skills in this woman's brain. If it can be punched, she will punch it.

7. Eye for an Eye: Fairly self-explanatory, it's a song about wanting revenge so... yeah. Checked that box. It was this or The Vengeful One by Disturbed but ultimately The Vengeful One's religious symbolism probably makes it fit better as a Tyrande theme lol ("I'm the hand of god, I'm the dark messiah." Did you mean: the Night Warrior)

8. Survivor: Cathala's survived a lot of shit and this could kinda be her making fun of herself for it because "Gods, man! Don't I deserve a break!"

9. Ashes: Really the reason I include this song is the last chunk (2:42 to the end) because holy shit. Listen, if I was gonna include a song with fire motifs, it was gonna be a somber one like this.

10. Into the West: This can kinda represent Cathala just trying to fucking breathe and recover from Teldrassil. Also works because I dunno it has stuff to do with the elves in LotR, I haven't seen those movies in a while. It sounds nice and is melancholy so I included it.

11. Like Real People Do: Cathala loves Tarinne a lot you guys have I ever menti-

12. Into the Wild: Tarinne changed Cathala's world for the better and she's super fucking grateful she has her by her side. Kinda goes without saying but you know.

13. Chasing the Moon: I have a vague music video in my head for this of them falling in love and it's very cute so there's that. Also it's in this specific spot because hey she may be deeply traumatized but she's still got a fair number of things/people in her life that make her happy so :)

14. Follow My Girl: I've got a theme going in my head that while Tarinne is fairly certain of her place in the world, Cathala is still trying to find hers. She outlived all her connections on Pandaria because Elf Lifespans(tm) and the only members of her family still alive are distant relatives she never knew very well.

15. Wish That You Were Here: This works both to represent Cathala on Pandaria feeling super homesick, and for more recently after Teldrassil. Either way, it's a message to her parents and sister.

16. Mr. Fear: She does her damnedest to hide it but she's absolutely terrified something like Teldrassil's gonna happen again! That fear drives her to do everything in her power to protect who and what she can. As long as they're not Forsaken, cause she's still got her biases, that compassion even extends across faction lines. She never really got the whole Alliance/Horde thing anyway. Innocent people shouldn't have to die, regardless of who or what they are.

17. Ordinary Day: Not to get super out there but I think this song works as symbolizing Cathala really trying to hold on to her faith in Elune, but ultimately feeling pretty abandoned. I mean she can clearly see Elune's influence everywhere. But Elune sure ain't doing Cathala any favors as far as she can tell! It also ends the whole playlist on maybe a bit of an uncertain/open-ended note, because this "losing faith" aspect is a new thing with her and will definitely be something she continues to struggle with for a while. On a related note, I should say Tarinne is still very much devout but she gets what Cathala's feeling and doesn't force anything on her, and vice versa. And Cathala wouldn't become atheist, the night elves aren't monotheistic and she still worships all the other deities, it's just specifically Elune she's a little :/ on.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 3

(Banner by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: I am so overwhelmed by the amount of people saying that they missed this story and these characters! I’m so touched that you all love my babies as much as I do. I hope you like the rest of the story just as much! Please, don’t forget to show your love!! Enjoy. Xx

Deep sleep had been elusive. Melody had gotten a total of seven hours, but it wasn’t straight through. It was fractioned and split into two hours here, three hours there, with an hour and a half of staring up at the ceiling in between. And Sean hadn’t failed to notice.

“Harder,” he ordered, lifting his punching mitts up again and rounding the ring.

Melody huffed air between her teeth as she pressed toward him again, throwing quick hits into his righthand mitt. She danced on the balls of her feet, circling him as he turned, pushed a pad forward. She swung, a wide hook that forced his arm backward. Sean rebounded and smacked her ear with his mitt.

“On the defense, Rhoden! What are you doing?”

Melody dropped her gloves as she stepped back, away from him. She swiped at sweat that was dripping into her eye with the back of her forearm. Her breath came in pants. She remembered when she refused to exercise, anything but yoga, where she could set her own pace and stretch out her muscles instead of coiling them up.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m wasting your time.”

“You’re not wasting anyone’s time but your own.” Sean stepped into the corner of the ring and waved at her. “Go ahead. Take a break.”

Melody nodded gratefully at him. She peeled the velcro on her right glove apart and shook it off onto the floor, reaching for her water bottle, where it waited just inside the ropes.

They were at the gym, early enough that the people working out were mostly parents. Middle-aged moms getting in some cardio before work, dads watching their figures and pulling weights far too heavy for them, barely avoiding strained backs. There were a few younger men, though. Probably college students high on pre-workout. They had wandering eyes, but neither Melody nor Sean paid them any mind.

This was the time of day they preferred, and this was the place. A little gym in a hidden corner of the city’s south side, where they didn’t have to worry about any of Goodman’s regular boxers interrupting and heckling them. Early enough that most of the annoying gym-goers were either sleeping or otherwise occupied. They tended to stay away from the warehouse unless it was time for a match or they had set up some training with another team.

Melody gulped down another mouthful of water and stared out onto the street. The pavement reflected back the rising sun. Her eyes felt tired, and not the adrenaline of her training or the brightness of the morning outside or the rock music playing over the gym’s speakers was helping to wake her up.

“He’s being unfair, Sean,” she finally said, when she couldn’t stop thinking about the way that Harry had reacted the day before. "Like I liked that he fought? He did it because he had to, and I’m doing the same thing.”

“You know I agree with you, Melody. He’s a strange dude. Never know half of what goes on in his head, why he makes the decisions he makes.”

“So, what do I do? Just wait until he gets over it? What if he doesn’t?”

Sean sighed. He peeled his mitts off and gestured with his head toward the floor of the gym. “Let’s do some bag work.”

Melody slid out from the ring, beneath the ropes, grabbing her discarded glove before she followed Sean to an unused boxing bag. She tossed her water bottle into Sean’s waiting hand, examining the thick gauze and tape coating her knuckles. Then she slid her fingers back into her glove and pulled the velcro tightly around her wrist.

“One-two-threes,” Sean said, squirting some of her water into his own mouth. “Go.”

Melody peeled her lips back from her teeth and arranged her feet. She sucked in a heavy breath and then began her punches. Right. Right, left. Right, left, right. Short hisses of air between her teeth with each hit. The bag swung before her and she took a swift step clockwise before beginning another round.

“He is stubborn,” Sean finally answered when she began her next set. He watched her form and studied the twist of her torso. “And he almost seems angrier than he was before. Not that I blame him. He likes to keep moving and he hates hospitals, and now he’s stuck immobile inside of one. Switch sides.”

Melody slowly shifted herself, right foot forward, left shoulder back. She repeated her deep breath and then began again. Left. Left, right. Left, right, left. The even sound of glove against bag helped to calm her mind, even as she began to sweat again.

Harry had begun her training, even if he had never meant it to turn into this. Brief instructions on form and little spars between the two of them, when she wore a padded helmet and he only tapped her with his own gloves. It had only been fun, then. Just a way for him to break up the monotony of his own training. But Sean had been appreciative of what she already knew when he started training her himself. And over time she had seen the appeal of the sport, the outlet of steam, the way that it really wasn’t just testosterone-fueled fighting, but a game of the mind.

She finished a single set before she paused to speak. “Well that’s not his fault, and it’s not mine, and it’s not yours. He can redirect his anger, if you ask me.” She began her next one-two-three as she waited for a response.

Sean leaned his back against the wall of mirrors on her right. He nodded slowly. “I think he knows all that. But Colton’s not around for him to direct his anger, so…”

Melody let her arms fall to her sides, licking her dry lips. She shook a stray chunk of hair back from her forehead. She hated hearing that name aloud, hated the face it called to mind, and the terror that came with it, and the months that had passed so painstakingly slow at the work of his hands.

“One more set on each side,” Sean ordered, pulling her from her own head, “and then the speed bag."

Melody completed her sets quickly and gave Sean another grateful nod when he rewarded her with a long sip from her water bottle. She tore the gloves off her hands as the two of them made their way to the smaller bags. Sean had to lower one for her, as he always did.

“Forward, down,” he instructed her, although she knew what she was doing by this point.

Melody dropped her gloves at her feet and began a steady beat against the bag, twisting her hands in circles, keeping them up and in front of her face. First the knuckles of her right fist, then the bottom of it, then the same with her left fist. She found the sounds of the bag’s chain soothing, meditative, but she was still finding it hard to focus. Sweat was dripping down her bare torso by now. She had learned early on that t-shirts were suffocating when you were working so hard.

“I was gonna go back to see him today, but I think you should go alone,” Sean eventually said.

She paused and glanced at him, letting the bag twist around and around, slowing. “Why?”

“He’s calmer around you.”

She scoffed, picking up her hits again, faster this time, and harder. Sean smiled softly beside her.

“I’m not lying.”

“You should’ve seen him right after he saw my face yesterday, Sean. He was yelling in the elevator. It echoed. That’s not calm.”

“Maybe not,” agreed Sean, “but on the whole he’s less aggressive.”

Melody sighed and dropped her hands again. She ran her fingertips through her damp hair, tucking the loose strands back as best she could. “I think he’s still mad at me. No matter what he says. There’s no way he’s over something that had him saying we were done, not when he feels like there were only a few days between that and him waking up in the hospital. I’ve had months to process that, but he hasn’t.”

“Well, he doesn’t wanna talk about it, right? If he wants to, he’ll tell you.” Sean patted her sweaty shoulder and lifted her gloves off of the ground. “That’s good for today. Why don’t you go and try to sweet talk some sense into him? A little kiss probably wouldn’t hurt.”

Melody rolled her eyes as she took her gear from him. But she was eager to get packed up and showered, and hoped that she found Harry in a better mood today.

***

When Melody stepped into Harry’s room, her tread was so light it was as if she were avoiding land mines. She found him watching television. The image was so foreign. He didn’t even own one in his apartment, and many times she’d had to do a lot of convincing just to get him to watch a film with her, but she supposed that laying in bed all day with no company could get rather boring.

“Hey, there,” she greeted cautiously. She hadn’t bothered with the makeup today. Harry already knew the bruise was there and Vanessa was familiar with her wounds. Besides, somehow, it was already beginning to yellow around the edges. She was a quick healer.

Harry turned his head toward her and was silent as she approached him, but she didn’t see the anger in his eyes that she’d grown so wary of. They were observant instead, almost calculating. That was perhaps more unnerving.

Melody relaxed back into her familiar chair and parted the wet locks of her hair with her fingers. She was avoiding a conversation, she knew. And Harry didn’t seem all too eager to speak, either. He was watching the T.V. again. Some crime program. But she couldn’t stay silent forever.

“I want to apologize again,” she told him, forcing her voice above the mutter that it was tending toward. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. You’re not stupid, Harry. And we were gonna have to talk about this at some point, but I was hoping I’d have some more time to, you know, prepare myself.”

Because the months I had weren’t enough.

His eyes lowered to her face, slowly, lazily. She liked looking at him, even when he didn’t seem so enthralled with her. His face was starting to round back out. Stubble was beginning to peak out around his mouth, above his lip. They’d shaved for him while he was unconscious, because it was easier to keep his face clean and because it felt more like Harry to Melody. She supposed that he didn’t want the extra attention now. But the facial hair wasn’t long, and he still looked like his usual self, like the Harry who went weeks between shaves because it grew so slowly. She hadn’t let them cut the hair on his head, though, even to keep it flush with the parts that were growing back in. He looked ridiculous but she didn’t think he’d like that, letting them cut his hair when it wasn’t absolutely necessary, when he wasn’t there to make the decision himself. Now, he looked a bit like a doll that a child had butchered.

“Why’re yeh starin’ at me like that?”

Melody’s gaze snapped back to his eyes. They were dull, trapped inside this building without anything more natural than the fluorescent bulbs burning above them.

“You’re not answering,” she replied.

“Yeh didn’ ask a question.”

She let out a snort. “Do I have to?”

Harry frowned. He reached toward her, his fingers outstretched, and she was so surprised that it took her a moment before leaning forward. His fingertips brushed along the lower part of her cheek, slipping her hair back from her face, and then settled just at the edge of her bruise. He was gentle, barely a flutter against her skin, but every spot her touched flared up, and she shivered.

“Got yeh good.”

Melody swallowed against the lump rising in her throat. It had been a long time since he’d touched her like this. And all too soon it was gone.

“I don’ like this,” Harry said, his voice hardened as his hand fell away from her skin. “Are yeh fightin’ guys?”

“No, I—”

There was the sound of a gunshot. Probably just a sound effect applied to the T.V. show. But to Melody it made no difference. The sound painted her vision red with blood. Her hands were covered with it. She felt a profound ache in her chest and an unpleasant chill down her spine, sudden tears collecting behind her closed eyelids.

“Melody?” someone was saying. “Mel?”

Her eyes opened to find Harry still laying in front of her. His brows were drawn together, his fingers tight on the edge of the mattress, just in front of her knee. She blinked once, twice. Her breathing was labored, like she’d only just finished her training with Sean.

“Can you—” she murmured, nearly choking as she swallowed around the lump rising in her throat, “can you turn the T.V. off?”

Harry lifted the remote and pressed the power button without a moment’s thought. He watched her avoid his eyes. That wasn’t like her at all.

“What was that?” he asked softly.

“Nothing.” Melody shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Melody.” Harry drew his hand back to his side. “Yeh just apologized to me for lyin’, so stop it. Yeh’re not fine. ‘M sittin’ right here.”

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but felt herself only stutter out something unintelligible. Harry watched her struggle, drop her face into her hands, and fall completely silent. He glanced back toward the blank T.V. screen and his own face reflected back at him. A minute ticked by in silence, and then everything clicked together in the same moment.

“Yeh were there?” he whispered. He shifted himself up against the pillows positioned behind him and his frown deepened.

Melody nodded, drawing her hands back down her face and letting out a lungful of air that sounded almost painfully sharp.

“No one tells me shit around here,” Harry muttered. He didn’t understand how such an important detail had slipped through the cracks when the story of the shot to his head was explained.

“It’s not something I like to talk about.”

“I’ll bet.” He watched her fiddling with her own fingers, the tendrils of her damp hair falling forward into her face. “What were yeh doin’ there?”

“Bringing back your...” Melody swallowed around her own words. “Bringing back your things.”

“Should’ve just kept ‘em. Christ, Mel.” He drew in an agitated breath. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry,” she spoke. She sounded fierce, resolved, and he didn’t challenge her.

“Okay.”

Melody looked up from her lap for the first time in quite a few minutes. She reached for his hand, where it was tucked into his side, and he turned the palm upward for her. Her fingers were clammy as they gripped at him.

“Nothing has changed with me,” she finally said, after she’d thumbed at his scarred knuckles. There was a fierce ache in her chest that spurred on her words. It had been weeks and they’d yet to discuss anything about their relationship, but the way he’d just touched her and the memory of his things packed away in boxes almost forced her to broach the subject. She didn’t think she could wait in suspense any longer.

“Everythin’s changed with yeh,” Harry countered. “Down to your hair color.”

Melody shook her head. She didn’t smile at Harry’s attempt for a joke, and he barely lifted his lips, anyway.

“That’s not what I mean,” Melody said as the fingertips of her free hand traced up the dark lines of his tattoos. She sighed and leaned forward, settling her cheek atop the back of his hand, clasped in hers. His hands had never been soft, always hard and calloused, but gentle with her. She pressed her lips to the space between his thumb and his pointer finger.

“I love you, Harry.” She closed her eyes as one of his knuckles brushed the skin at the corner of her lips. “I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now.”

“I know that,” Harry replied after a short pause. He heaved out a deep breath and slipped his hand from hers. She felt herself deflate until that hand wrapped around the side of her neck, his fingertips at the back of her skull, and he tugged on her. She lifted her face from her own hand and the mattress, let him pull her toward him, until she was rising out of her chair, chest against his, and he was pressing his lips to her forehead, just below her hairline.

Melody choked back the sob that rose into her mouth. She dug her fingers into the fabric of his hospital gown and settled into the crook of his neck, his breath pouring down the side of her face, sweet and warm as honeyed tea.

“I missed you,” she whispered against the skin just above his collarbone.

“I know,” he said again. He held her against him, feeling her breaths begin to even, letting her press herself as tightly to his skin as she needed. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, just holding her. “I know, Mel."

Chapter 4

[modernsocialmediaau]

AVALANCE AU

AU: Sara is lead singer in a band called The Legends. Her band mates are; Charlie: Bass Player, Nate: Lead Guitarist, Zari: Drummer, Ray: Pianist. They call their fans beebos. Ava on the other hand is a famous actress with an entourage; Nora her best friend, and stylist, Gary: Manager, and Mona her publicist.

“Rise and shine!” Gary screams from the downstairs, the two are the only one that took care of themselves that night. Everything was going normal until the group caught a glimpse of Ray and Nora locking lips. That’s sort of when all hell broke loose, Sara offered shots and Charlie offered drinking games. 

“If he doesn't stop shouting. I will literally hung him by his leg out in the balcony.” Charlie groans placing a pillow on top of her face, Zari pulls her much closer trying to hide her face while also burying her neck in Charlies shoulder. 

“C’mon love birds.” Sara throws a pillow at the cuddling two. As well as Ray and Nora locking lips, Zari and Charlie made a mistake locking lips right in front of Gary as well as Sara but Sara already knew. 

After an 20 more minutes of Gary shouting and John singing they finally got everyone out of bed for some breakfast. 

Soon after breakfast the crew heads for their hike, it was a rather quiet first hour. Sara and Ava are up front leading the way, talking about god knows what while the others are behind them scheming. 

“Now that you two are settled, can we focus on those two.” Charlie points at the two blondes leading the way,

“Charlie, Ava needs time to heal” 

“And Sara--” Nate sighs knowing how much mending a broken heart is hard, but having had a pile of broken hearts after the other tends to wound an individual. 

“Need to heal as well,” Ray sighs

“Okay but you guys can’t tell me that last night they weren’t up on each other or vibing at all.” Mona coo’s looking ahead to see the two girls examining the trail 

“So what they’re friends, what if they are—“ Nate is cut off by the conversation the two girls are having up ahead. Ava is currently holding the map far from Sara’s reach, she’s using her butt as a shield.

“Just let me see it for one second.” Ava argues

“Why Miss-Know-It-All,” Sara teases bumping into Ava catching her in surprise letting her guard down. “You didn’t” Ava scoffs, but Sara took that opportunity to take the map and run away from Ava. 

“Are you kidding though.” Mona woo’s pointing at the two playing tag with one another

“Okay but they’ve been like that since the beginning of their friendship, they’re both extremely headstrong. Sara is extremely rebellious and from what I noticed Ava is a little controlling.” Nate explains following the two blonde girls still play fighting over the map 

“What’s wrong with him?” Gary mumbles, John shrugs taking out a cigarette as they follow, everyone starts to do the same but Nora puts her hand out to stop everyone else from walking. 

“Okay new plan, do we force them to be together, or do we let them heal properly and hope that they’ll get together?” Nora speaks up leaving Zari, Ray and Charlie stuck 

“Well clearly forcing them together isn't working out,” Ray starts 

“Exactly when we do that they seem to butt heads but—” Zari continues 

“When we leave them alone they come together naturally—”Charlie adds

“Which leaves us with the question again, do we keep forcing them together? Or do we let them heal—”

“Hey guys! C’mon the lake is up ahead!” Sara shouts summoning the last four to catch up to them. 

“Well Ava leaves in a month and you guys leave in 2. Which means everyone will be gone, and your tour is going to last what—?” Nora schemes as they slowly walk trying to create some space as they scheme 

“7 month at the most.” Ray informs 

“Which means we let fate decide?” Charlie questions

“That just may be our best bet.” Zari pulls Charlie to walk faster since everyone doesn't have a choice on what to do about the two. 

1 Hour Later...

“Who knew Mona Wu could cook?” Nora jokes as everyone is enjoying their lunch with some coffee, and tea. 

“Well if you guys actually came over for food every once in a while instead of going out to eat you’d actually see how I can cook.” Mona defenses rolling her eyes making everyone cackle. As they continue to eat Sara somehow sneaks away from the group, and of course Ava notices which means she follows. 

Nobody else notice the two girls sneak away. As Ava gets closer to Sara she whispers “Hey! Where are you going?” 

“Hey, stalker.” Sara chuckles continuing to her path, up a hill 

“I’m not a stalker, you just left and what if you get stuck or lost or something?” 

“Whatever floats your boat”

“So what are you doing exactly?” 

“Wanted a better view, better views give me better ideas, lyrics, melodies—”

“You’ve got writers block?” 

“Yup, and it’s killing me because it is literally the last song of the album and we’re suppose to record it when we get back into town Monday.” 

“Oh well then I’ll leave you alone—” There’s a pause, a part of Ava that wants Sara to ask her to stay but she can understand why the girl might want her alone time

“No wait, can I bounce things off of you?” Ava smiles before turning back around to Sara

“I’ll do my best—What do you got?” 

Sara takes her phone out and pulls up the instrument of her empty music.  The two sit for 6 minutes just trying to get the feel of the music. 

“First of all, I love the sound—do you have a concept?”

“I don’t know nothing is really connecting to me and the whole album is coming together but this song would take it to a whole ‘nother level”

“Alright let’s start with this what haven't you wrote about?” 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously.” 

“A break up, I refuse. I’ll write about everything else but I don’t know I always feared that I’ll cry during one of the shows and crying is—”

“Disgusting—”Ava jokes

“Exactly but if thats’ the next best thing I’ll take it. So breaks up...break ups”

“How did your break up with Alex go? I know this is personal and might be a little too weird to talk about but—”

“No it’s okay, it was in the end of March and my ex girlfriend Alex broke up with me. She said that she felt lonely every time we were together because I was so busy with everything going on with my life. And she wasnt wrong—”

“Alright what made this break up hard?”

“She found somebody else, this amazing detective named Maggie Sawyer—I guess it hurt a lot because we were friends for 8 years then we dated and I just kind of assume we’d get married and do the whole house and kids thing but to be replaced so quickly hurt.”

“Do you want her back?”

“No I dont want her back but I hate thinking about her with somebody else.”

“Okay so let’s write about that mindset, you dont want her but you hate seeing her with his Maggie person.”

“That’s not bad, Sharpe. Not bad at all.”

30 minutes later

“Let’s hear it, Lance.” Ava runs back to Sara from going to the lake to meditate to hear what she’s got so far.

“It’s rough but hear me out,

So I heard you found somebody else And at first I thought it was a lie I took all my things that make sounds The rest I can do without

I don't want your body But I hate to think about you with somebody else Our love has gone cold You're intertwining your soul with somebody else

“That’s so—What the actual fuck—keep going.” 

“That’s all I’ve got so far, I was thinking of adding another chorus like 

I'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone And then leaving with somebody else No, I don't want your body But I'm picturing your body with somebody else

“Yes that’s good. Next verse c’mon don’t slack now—”

“Feel free to shout some ideas—jeez this is hard.”

“Right sorry, okay same melody right?” 

“Yup, all I’ve got for the second verse is

c’mon baby

this aint the last time—

That I’ve been amazed?”

“No that doesn't make sense, what about that I've seen your face then repeat c’mon baby almost like calling her out as well as calling out to her.”

Come on baby This ain't the last time that I'll see your face Come on baby

“I hate that I can be replaced?”

“You said you’d find someone to take my place?” 

“We’re going to go with yours I dont want her to think this is about her in the slightest—then I have this crazy idea that I thought of as soon as you left ”

I just don't believe that you have got it in you 'cause We are just gonna keep 'doin' it' and everytime I start to believe in anything you're saying I'm reminded that I should be getting over it

“I love that its a shift but not too noticeable where it throws the person off”

“Thank you, then the chorus repeats—

I don't want your body But I hate to think about you with somebody else Our love has gone cold You're intertwining your soul with somebody elseI'm looking through you while you're looking through your phone And then leaving with somebody else No, I don't want your body But I'm picturing your body with somebody else

“Do you have any ideas for the bridge?” 

“I want it to almost be chant like so that whoever is listening to this is getting a looking at themselves in the mirror and my friends said I need to get over the last bit of you and so here I am hyping myself up in this mirror type of feel.” 

“Specific I’m all ears.”

“I want it to build up like this;

I don't want your body, I don't want your body I don't want your body, I don't want your body I don't want your body, I don't want your body

then how about, get someone you love? get someone you need?”

“Fuck that, get money!” Ava jokes but Sara disagrees. 

“Genius—

Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money”

“Damn I am a genius.” Ava nods 

“Right, but it needs one more line before I go on a chanting spree—”

“Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money. I can't give you my soul 'cause we're never alone”

“Where do you keep coming up with this?”

“Okay let’s hear it shall we?

Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money I can't give you my soul 'cause we're never alone Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money I can't give you my soul 'cause we're never alone Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money I can't give you my soul 'cause we're never alone Get someone you love? Get someone you need? Fuck that, get money I can't give you my soul 'cause we're never alone”

“That was it! Yes then obviously repeat the chorus right?” 

“Yes and thats the whole song. Thats the whole album WOOHOOO!!!” Sara shouts, pulling Ava into a very tight hug. Ava couldn't help but feel good and oddly giddy having Sara in her arms.

“Oi! Is everything okay?” Charlie waves at the two girls and the two pull away from one another

“I just finished the album you’ve got to hear it!” Sara kisses Ava’s cheek before running towards Charlie. Ava watches Sara making to Charlie, and she decides to sit down to think about what to do.

“What was that up there?” 

“She helped finished the last song of the album which means I finished the album—”

“Sara—calm down, let us hear it then?”

Part 13/?

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |

[bffsoobin]

extra long tag game (a guide to all unnecessary knowledge of me)

tagged by: @txtdiaries (ily lana)

tagging: @pxppinstars @txtdream @lavenderlattaes @soobindipity (feel free to ignore if you’ve already done this or just can’t be bothered)

ONE

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

Um okay so I’ll go with explaining BTS and TXT I guess, haha. For BTS it was DNA! That was the first mv I ever saw by them and I was instantly obsessed with everything about it. For TXT, it was obviously Crown since I was keeping an eye on them as soon as BH announced a new group haha. But I initially loved the super bright and happy concept from Crown and they totally got me hooked by their personalities and other music!!

—

TWO

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

what’s your unrealistic goal for life?

married by 23, kids by 25...I’m 19 and I’ve never even had a boyfriend so I would be shocked if I actually got this lmao

if you had known that we would be in a global pandemic, what’s one thing that you would’ve done before things shut down (if they have for you)?

Honestly, I can’t think of anything other than spending more time with my roommate who I miss so so much. 

what’s an unconventional thing that you carry around with you when you go out?

I wouldn’t usually call this unconventional but right now I’d say my student ID since it’s useless as I’m not going back to campus

favourite type of plushies and why?

I love teddy bears. I have two that I sleep with every night! One is a gift I got for preschool graduation (eloquently named Teddy) and the other is my iron man build a bear that my uncle bought me to cope with Endgame. 

favourite song right now?

I am notoriously bad at answering this question so I’ll just say that at the moment I’ve been listening to Red Desert by 5sos a lot.

something that you’ve always wanted to learn?

I’ve always wanted to learn how to play drums and any language other than English haha

tell a funny story about yourself (or just something that you’ve witnessed)

This took way more digging in my mind than I would like to admit but when I saw 5sos live in 2016 my best friend and I had soundcheck, so we got to sit in the venue early and ask them questions and hear a few extra songs. At the time I had beef with Luke Hemmings (because the girl he was dating at the time was one of the most toxic people on earth) and he wouldn’t break up with her. So the girl sitting next to me at soundcheck raised her hand to ask Luke a question so of course he was looking basically right at me. We were like maybe 8 rows back from the stage and at this point in my life I had bright pink hair, so there was no missing me. So this girl is asking her innocent question, and naturally Luke looks around a bit and we make eye contact and instead of fangirling like a normal person, my anger at him boiled over and I ended up flipping him off. The whole band noticed and had to pretend they weren’t laughing at the oddly aggressive 9th grader who flipped off their lead singer. I still feel bad about it to this day lmao but all my friends think it’s hilarious and it’s definitely my go to party story.

headphones or speakers? why?

headphones all the way. Speakers only if I’m showering.

craving any food right now? what are you craving?

Surprisingly I’m not craving anything but that’s because I just ate dinner 10 minutes ago

which music streaming platform do you prefer? why?

Spotify all the way

ten questions (by lana, answered)

1. what is your favorite movie of all time?

This is such a hard question for me. I’m so bad at picking favorites. But I’d have to say it’s sort of a tie between Heathers, Brave and Iron Man 2

2. describe your childhood in three words

Disney, animals, comforting

3. Favorite holiday?

Halloween forever and always

4. Favorite vacation spot?

Disney World! 5.What do you think of the education system? Are you a fellow slave to the GPA?

The US education system has massive holes. I was lucky enough to attend a pretty good highschool and take good classes so I don’t feel like I was as robbed as other people, but there are curriculum gaps and misinformation everywhere you go. As far as college goes, I think it is wayyyy too expensive. Despite that, I still signed myself up for 8 years of debt so yes, I am a slave to the GPA. Gotta go hard for the dream job. 

6. What is your hair color? Very light blonde now, normally dirty blonde

7. What talent do you wish you had?

I wish I could draw or paint well so bad. I am so envious of artists.

8. What is your major and why? (If you’re in highschool, what do you plan on majoring in?)

I’m a biology major because I want to become a veterinarian! 

9.Do you like kids or do you merely tolerate them? I love most kids. There will always be some awful ones but as a general rule I love being around kids and I definitely want some of my own!

10. Any pets?

Yep, I have five cats!

ten questions from me to you:

who is your favorite non kpop artist?

do you prefer to be warm or cool?

dream job, if you have one?

favorite TV show?

top three celebrities you would sell your soul to meet?

do you believe in ghosts?

cookies or brownies?

do you like where you live?

do you know your personality type? If so, what is it?

do you prefer floral scents or neutral scents?

—

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

—

FOUR

PERSONAL

name: sara

nickname: sadams

birthday: April 16th, 2001

zodiac: Aries hehe

nationality: sadly, american

languages: only english 

gender: female

sexuality: straight

height: 5'2 or 3 I don’t know for sure

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: obviously txt but I pull inspiration from my life, music, TV/movies and other stories!

meaning behind my url: I heavily believe in the idea of alternate universes and I think there’s one where Soobin and I are best friends so that’s what I made my url!

blog established: May of 2020

followers: 568 (how??)

FAVORITES

favourite animals: cats, snakes, raccoons

favourite books: Looking For Alaska by John Green

favourite colour: black, light purple, forest green, deep blue

favourite fictional characters: Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), Andy Dwyer (Parks and Rec), Leslie Knope (Parks and Rec), Klaus and Ben (Umbrella Academy), Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes. For some reason I’m blanking on book characters so here are all of my movie/tv faves

favourite flower: Forget me nots

favourite scent: fresh laundry, anything tropical or ocean smelling, basil

favourite season: fall!

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: 7 or 8 usually 

cats or dogs: cats

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: hot chocolate 

current time: 6:41 pm

dream trip: Australia or SK

dream job: Veterinarian 

hobbies: writing, watching tv/movies, shopping, going for walks

hogwarts house: slytherin

last movie watched: 68 Kill (do not watch if you’re under 18 or sensitive, lmao)

last song listened to: Sarah Smiles by Panic! at the Disco

no. of blankets you sleep with: right now two

random fact(s): I love dinosaurs, I have low iron, I’m allergic to dogs even though I work at a doggy daycare

—

FIVE

10 things I can’t stop listening to 

stay gold- bts

20 cm- txt

catch fire- 5sos

self- khalid

f2020- avenue beat

nyla- blackbear

everywhere- niall horan

heather- conan gray 

red desert- 5sos

eight- iu, suga

[wychive]

tagged by : @neo-shitty​ (toffee! ilysm hehe)

tagging: @noya-sannnn , @vitriosan , @hwanami , @luthenia and anyone else who wants to participate

slight warning : mentions of food

this is kind of long so it can help you relax if you want to do this!

[ one ] tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

wave // ateez

when jane showed me and fely (she already stanned ateez) the mv i was like :00 this song is really good and it goes with my type of music; pumped up and really fun. i decided that i wanted to stan them because of this introduction video that they did during pirate king where san broke the toy hammer trying to smack yunho’s ass SHHSSIJS,, i found them really funny and comforting! they made me so happy and that’s why they attracted me so much. + their amazing music ofc 

forever // exo

alright so i originally just casually listened to exo from wolf era up till 2017 when the kokobop teasers came out. they looked really pretty and so i watched them up till kkb was released. it’s what baekhyun’s voice in the forever teaser that captured me into stanning them. everything about the exo’s attracted me, their vocals, their dancing and ofc their visuals. bonus: their time on the ‘360 show(??)’! im not sure of the actual name for the programme but it was where yixing kept pronouncing jurassic park wrong pls that was so cute and funny how could you NOT stan them!

[ two ] answer the ten questions given by the previous person and write 10 of your own for the next person!

what’s your favorite season and why?

we only have two types of seasons here but if this includes western seasons, i would pick spring! flowers give me a sense of calmness whenever they start to bloom so being in a season where it’s just different coloured plants all around you? sign me up pls

are you a cat person or a dog person?

im a cat person! i currently have two cats as pets

what’s your current favorite song and why can’t you stop listening to it?

it would probably be fever by ateez! this is because it gives off freedom vibes and i’ve been stressed lately so the song is a little oasis for me

if you had the ability to do either of the following, would you rather change something in the past or see into the future?

i would choose to see into the future so that i could change what i do now, whether its related to me being lazy or me being selfish,, i would like to keep the past the way it is even if i had some scarring moments. it’s nice to look back on those and see how far you’ve come as a person.

what’s your favorite movie?

my favorite movie would either be spirited away or paper towns,, i actually don’t have a favorite movie because all of them have affected my life in different ways so yea :D

what did miss rona ruin for you this 2020?

probably the food fair this year,, my group of best friends were supposed to go there to celebrate jane and another friend’s birthday. the food fair happens yearly so it wasn’t anything big to anyone else, but to us it was something special. there are a lot more things but this was one of the major things she ruined :/

what’s your favorite album? (you can name one for each genre you like or you can just name one, it’s up to you.)

toffee why my top three would be day6’s sunrise, bts’ you never walk alone and lauv’s ~how i’m feeling~

if you could talk to your past self (person who lived your past life), what would you tell them?

“hey, dude, i hope you’re doing okay. stop being so selfish all the time alright? and stop comparing yourself to others, it wouldn’t do you any justice. make sure to spread A LOT of positivity even if no one acknowledges it. its okay to cry sometimes too. is my soulmate doing okay? i hope they are. i’ll make sure to find them in this timeline, and the next. whatever it takes. learn to love yourself.”

do you have a go-to person? who is it?

uh i dont have a go-to person,, i can’t vent or rant without feeling like burdening the other person or spreading negativity to them. instead i just kind of rant to myself on discord.

if you could tell your younger self something, what would you say?

“hey, kiddo. don’t fall in love too much nor fool around. it’ll affect you badly. appreciate the things your parents do for you, okay? don’t take anything for granted. ignore the people who call you names, they don’t matter here in the future. just be you.”

how do you spend your free time?

who or what is your biggest inspiration?

if you were a character in a horror movie, which stereotype do you closely resemble? and why?

your top 3 fanfiction tropes! (can be nsfw)

do you believe in soulmates and why?

painting or sketching and why?

what is on the top of your to-do list right now?

list down the top 3 things that make you happy.

who are you simping for right now?

what is your first core memory?

[ three ]  bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

[ four ] the ultimate tag: answer whichever ones you want to because there are a lot.

personal 

name: [REDACTED], alachi nickname: teja, kai birthday: april 11 zodiac: aries nationality: malaysian languages: english, malay,  learning korean gender: female sexuality: biromantic height: 160 cm / 5"2’ or 5"3’

blog stuff

inspiration for muse: music, other people’s work meaning behind my url: fever (current fav song) + core (aesthetic??) blog established: around 2018 but i started becoming active in late 2019/early 2020 followers: 146  ( i love you all )

favorites

favorite animal/s: anything connected to the cat species  favorite book/s: the authentics (abdi nazemian), satellite (nick lake) favorite color/s: lighter shades/mid-tones of cool colours, a dash of yellow

random

average hours of sleep: 6 cats or dogs: cats coffee, tea or hot chocolate: tea current time: 11:34 pm dream trip: south korea, japan, europe dream job: song producer, lyric writer hobbies: listening to music, browsing the internet hogwarts house: ravenclaw last movie watched: harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban last song listened to:  no. of blankets you sleep with: 1 random fact(s): my favourite subjects are biology and english!

[ five ] 10 songs i can’t stop listening to:

eternally - txt

fever - ateez

blue - keshi

lights out - exo

00:00  - bts

strawberries and cigarettes - troye sivan

maze in the mirror - txt

i loved you - day6

 illusion - ateez

 stolen moments - the vamps

[marie-lamb-b]

Good Night

He... really... needed a good night sleep...

Heya, @a-rae-of-sunshine!! See it didn’t took too long? ^3^ (Nope, this is Not my revenge. That will come with those things I asked you on DM)

But, I had the idea stuck, and there’s only one way to take ‘em off, so~

BTW, sorry. I have no idea how this ended as something upper than 3K words when I thought this wouldn’t take longer than 1.5K or so. I have no idea how do that happen .-.

Anyways, I still hope you enjoy this!!! ^O^

‘Alright, you can do this Bendy.’ The humanized demon thought, encouraging himself. This was it, this was the night. He couldn’t keep this hidden any longer.

Anyways, it’s not like James didn’t know. He did. He always did (much for the demon’s embarrassment), but he had never seen him like that– alright, bad analogy for the blind man. But still, the last time he was like this before him was when they were kids– or younger, for the demon’s standards; just short enough to pass like any other kid– and with a lot of cloth on him like coat, scarf, hat and rain boots to make him look like any other child around.

But now, both grown up, dating each other, deciding to take the big step and spend the night together, Bendy was becoming so nervous around him, fearing to simply doze out and return to that little demonic shape he really was all the while James would hug him, cuddle him, feeling him and that change of size, of shape, of texture... Bendy couldn’t fall asleep next to him; he hadn’t had a proper night sleep since then, and that was starting to take its toll during daytime.

He started to nod while in classes, about to fall asleep. Focus on whatever the teacher was saying became a harder task as days passed by. Somehow he was thankful of some of his classmates that would nudge him awake, but he had found himself in the end of the last class of the day, late at the evening, that he simply blacked out like a light, all alone, until at least James would appear around the door looking for him, waking him up with his sweet concerned voice– quick enough to turn back to be Ben before he could reach for him. Those accidents were turning more and more frequent, and it was a matter of time for him to be unable to react on time, giving away his façade of a normal human being in the middle of the class, in the middle of the campus.

He needed to sleep. He couldn’t keep like this any longer. Besides, it was James he was thinking about. He knew. He just had to show himself the way he already knew.

He took some more time to glance the image in front of him through the mirror, shifting back and forth between those two shapes he was known for; the average boy of pale skin and dark hair, and the one he was used to be called as ‘the little devil darling’. He was doing so, shifting back and forth, ignoring his tiredness and taking over all his differences as he hadn’t done in so long.

The height was the most notorious one; weren’t for him being stood on a stepstool he would barely see the top of his horns through the mirror. Although the upper half of his forehead was missing from view when in his human form on the stepstool.

And that place above him was another difference; where as human he had dark, soft hair that his boyfriend liked to playfully ruffle every once in a while, as a demon he had, well, demon horns; pointy, stiff, not fluffy like hair. And even though as a human he fixed it so it would resemble his natural horns, they were just not the same.

And his face, yeah, both forms resembled a pale tone proper of a paper-like skin, but the lack of ears, nose and neck, and such an unnatural wide grin were a stark contrast.

Even more, where his human face held two dark brown eyes behind some fluttering lids, as a demon he had... nothing, just two empty voids whose way to blink was by morphing what seemed to be a portion of his already flat face over those voids. It was hard to imagine James kissing him like this; what if he stuck his nose on one of his eyes? Well, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about his old friend snake to peep out of one of his sockets.

He tried to look for more differences more, but probably those were the biggest ones. His hands, he kept them four fingered and with his holes on them even as a human, and he always held hands with James, as much as to communicate with each other as for the pure pleasure of holding him. He never seemed fazed by such strange sensation. Then why was he thinking this so much?

He turned once again into his bean-shaped self, ready to go with him and... Nope, back to Ben. He couldn’t!

...Alright, maybe... maybe he’d show as Ben and then would turn into Bendy. Yeah, that... that sounded... fine. Yeah, fine...

Last glance to the human in front of the mirror. He could do it.

Out of the bathroom and into the living room, he saw James as he was sitting on the couch, listening to the radio that played soft music before the radio theater transmission would start as every Friday at night. A soft smile drew on Ben’s face as he contemplated his boyfriend, tapping his fingers, bobbing his head, swaying with the music. Though his smile quickly turned into a frown as he thought once again in what he was about to... do? No. He was going to do it. No turning back. He needed to rest.

A deep breath through his nostrils, filling what he could fill of lungs, and then a deep sigh, that gave away a slight whistle through his lips.

“Ben? Is that you?” James called for him. Dammit! He forgot how sensitive his earing was. Slightly froze in the spot, Bendy tried to calm his nerves before giving away and affirmative whistle and walk towards his boyfriend. “What took you so long? Getting ready for the night? You didn’t need to prepare so much.” The blind man said jokingly, though it wasn’t too far from the truth.

Bendy moved to turn off the radio before sitting next to him on the couch.

“Ben, you alright? Something happened?” James inquired as the demon in disguise gently held both his hands, placing them behind his own, getting ready to talk.

[ACTUALLY I NEED TO TALK WITH YOU.] He started, fixing his gaze upon the floor instead his boyfriend’s face. It was hard to admit it all, even if he mentally prepared himself over and over, but he had to before reaching his worst limit. [YOU KNOW... THESE PAST DAYS HAS BEEN REALLY AMAZING, BEING ABLE TO BE WITH YOU AND ALL. BUT...] He paused, seeing James shifting in his place, his attention entirely over his words. [GOT TO BE HONEST WITH YOU. I HAVEN’T BEEN ABLE TO SLEEP WELL LATELY.]

Silence stretched for a little longer as Bendy lowered their hands, watching the stern features of the one before him, meditative? Disappointed?

“Ben, if you felt uncomfortable you could have just told me before. We don’t have to be–”

[NO! IT’S NOT THAT! I WANT TO BE WITH YOU!] Bendy gestured maybe a bit too abruptly as he caught James a bit shaken by his interruption, to what he shied back, holding their hands together and close to his chest before continuing. [I MEAN... I WANT TO FIX THIS, BEING ABLE TO SLEEP WITH YOU AND NOT...] He froze in middle of the air, slowly lowering his hands again as he wasn’t able to think in a proper way to continue.

“...’Not’ what?” James pushed after a while, furrowing his brows.

And Bendy looked at him. Looked those soft features his face held. Looked the concern he showed, heard the softness of his voice, felt the gentle strength of his grip. He felt so safe just by being next to him, but not entirely. He needed to change that, that’s what he was preparing for.

[JAMES... YOU KNOW I’M NOT... ENTIRELY... HUMAN...]

“Yeah, you’re not human at all. What with that? I thought we already went through that.” He answered nonchalantly, and Bendy couldn’t tell if that made it easier or harder to get to the point.

[YES, I KNOW. BUT... EVERYTIME I GO TO SLEEP, I CAN’T HOLD MY... MY HUMAN FORM. AND I REALLY DON’T KNOW HOW WOULD YOU REACT IF YOU... FIND ME... AS I REALLY AM...]

Again, silence filled their space as James pondered over these words, confused though not by their meaning, yet by how that could affect him that bad.

“Ben, I don’t get you. I’ve felt you changing before, why this is different?”

[IT IS.] Bendy kept going, trying his best to go on with as much calm as possible, though James probably was aware of the tremble in his hands. [ALL THESE OTHER TIMES, I KEPT BEING HUMAN-LIKE, NEVER CHANGED TOO MUCH.] He paused, taking a deep breath as he dared to stare right into his face. A meditative flutter of his eyelids turned to take a few seconds longer than it should; sweet Lord! If he wasn’t able to say so, he’d doze out before he could explain!

“Ben? You there?” James called him; even if he tried to lighten the tension on him he wasn’t entirely able to take apart the concern in his tone.

Bendy shook vigorously his head. He had to do it! He had to...

...But how?

[DO... YOU REMEMBER... HOW I WAS WHEN... WE PLAYED IN THE PARK... AS KIDS?] He asked slowly, slumber already taking his low energies away. The sole thing that kept him aware enough was the voice of the larger man whose hands were keeping his up in their grasp; voice that he... actually didn’t quite made the words, so quicker than he could thought let out a questioning whistle.

“I said I do.” He repeated with a little exasperated laughter; it was too obvious the lack of sleep at this stage. “I remember you, but honestly it wasn’t as I had much chance to feel how you were back then, if that’s what you mean.”

Wow, pretty nice way to go for an introduction, considering he really had no comparison point as he hoped. Oh, well, it was taking too much for the official reveal; the less he wanted was to collapse before he’d get to the point.

[WELL THEN... I GUESS YOU NOW WILL FEEL ME AS I WAS BACK THEN... AS I STILL AM...] He finished his statement, releasing his hands and preparing to shift once again as the devil he really was.

The ink in, on and around himself started to morph; his face losing its remarkable features as his body reduced in size, leaving a bean-shaped frame which only worn accessories were some black boots, gloves and a bowtie resting right below his neck wasn’t anymore. All under the now blanket-like garments he was wearing as human, which he had to take off him, dropping them next to him by the floor.

And as if a heavy burden was taken off the demon’s shoulders, releasing the form he struggled so hard to maintain in public actually made him look more rested, even if was just a little.

Although during such transformation, all James could do was to gap his mouth repeatedly as he shook a little his pinkie inside his ear. Yet the size change must have been notorious– though not as Bendy expected, as the weight shift next to the blind man left him with a puzzled demeanor.

“Ben, did you... move somewhere?” He asked around, swaying his head from side to side, unsure of where to focus. Confusion that didn’t go unnoticed by the devil next to him, though the first thing he could manage to do was to shake a little his shoulders, releasing a quiet wheeze of a giggle that indeed helped the other to find his location. “There you ar–... Ben?” His regained confidence plummeted once again, for when he reached forward to sense his partner, only air was there to greet him. “Ben?” He called once again, moving his arm unknowingly above the demon, patting around with no results. “Ben, where’d you go?”

The confusion and near worriedness drawn all by the Cohen’s face was a real show for the little demon– though his tiredness didn’t allow him to react in some another way than pure amusement. But it was being too much, he didn’t really want to scare him anyhow.

Gathering his last bits of energy, he lifted his arms, grabbing in middle air his waving hand and leading it in front of his low statured body, close to his heart, helping so his other hand to find with both the back of his.

[I’M HERE.] Bendy signed, taking on the tender confusion his partner showed from feeling his signing so low and short on movements, unable to help but projecting a wholehearted yet tired smile only for him. [I’M HERE.] Repeated, as now he held securely his hands and guided them to his face, allowing him to take on all his features– or the lack of them.

And James did, with gentle hands, trace all he could find of him; hands opened like a fan, he slid up and down, feeling the flat roundness and size of his head, up to his horns and the crescent moon-like space between them, and down from his sides and head back to his neck...less chin. A questioning hum escaped from his throat, yet all Bendy could respond was a little whistle and a shaking shrug, shoulders meeting with the back of his hands in the act, and James smiled with no more questioning, just exploring more.

He reached back up, now were his thumbs turn to feel. Cautiously he traced, feeling the edges of his round smile, and then upper, meeting a slightly sharper rim with nothing inside. He abstained of manifesting his doubts, yet the feeling of something overlaying those spaces, leaving only a couple of curve lines, gave him the clue to what he was feeling. He kept tracing those lines until his thumbs met in the middle of the place, feeling nothing else in the convergence of the three found features.

Yet he descended, finding again the space where a neck should be, and carefully turning and lowering his hands, seeking for the rest of him. His wrists tickled with the texture of his bowtie, and couldn’t help but brushing it a little with his thumbs. He kept going, finding again his shoulders and sliding down from there the short track his arms made, right to his hands and lacing his fingers, even if just for a bit; they still were the same hands after all.

He returned up, though now from below his arms to get back to his body. A little shake caught him off guard, but it was accompanied by a soft wheeze, giving away the ticklish nature of the devil. A smirk crossed James face, but nothing more than a flash before continuing his course. He practically could engulf him entirely with his hands, feeling how the tip of his fingers met in his back while he sensed the proximity of his thumbs in the front.

He kept going lower, yet as with his arms, the trail was a short one; two and a quarter of what his hands entirely extended were was all it took before reaching the beginning of his legs. James laid his hands on top, and two fingers below was his knee bent. Bendy had to move a little to unfold his legs, stretching them between them and adjusting a tad back so he could fit the entire length for James to feel, and feel he did. With a light hold of his limb, so thin, so noodlely, he kept going more and more down, yet as before was a short track, finding the brim of some sort of foot garments, boots more likely.

He reached bottom, and with so, he held his hand wide open, laying his thumb at the top of Bendy’s toes and his pinkie in the middle of his leg. Holding in spot his pinkie, he reached it with his thumb before laying it where the pinkie was and taking the latter further up by his body. James repeated this a few more times, passing by the devil’s chest, mouth and until the top of his horns. And after that, he slid his hand down once again, feeling his shoulder and reaching up to his hand, cupping it between both of his.

And silence settled in. May be reflexive, may be from the shock, or simply to just let it all sink in. But silence took place on and around them both, nearly deafening the devil from the numbness and relaxation of all that caressing he received of the man next to him while he met his real form. And now, Bendy was simply too tired to really care; he felt at peace, safe even, and the warmth the man’s hands conveyed to his only made him feel more... cozy... maybe he could take a real rest now–

A slightly forceful trembling on his hand snapped the demon out of his cotton thoughts. With concern and a shot of adrenaline he darted his sockets to his boyfriend’s face, only to find it... constricted? Was he... retaining a laughter?

“Oh my god, Ben! I can’t!” James burst with a cackle, a delightful one actually, right as he yanked the little one close to him to strangle his whole body in a tight hug. “Ha ha! Oh, Ben! You’re so small!” He kept cackling, snugging the tiny frame with so much eagerness. “Ha ha ha! I’m gonna– Ha!– Eh, I’m– I’m gonna have to be careful not to step on you!”

His hyped demeanor kept for a while as the laughter receded slowly, and Bendy’s chest honestly burst with so much warmth and joy. He almost felt ashamed for overthinking it way too much earlier; he was thinking of James, after all. He felt so safe, so warm, so... cozy... so marveled by the man who decided to be with him regardless his demonic nature. No place for doubts as to why he felt that way close to him.

Yet that line of thoughts came to a halt when a chiming sound from the hall invaded the space, silencing even James’ subsiding giggles. 10 o’clock was what the chimes announced, and James shifter around with realization.

“Oh, my, it’s time!” He chirped as he stretched to reach the radio, turning it on again and finding the broadcaster introducing what was going to be the show for the night.

After making sure it was well tuned, James retook his place on the couch, fitting his back on the corner and sprawling his legs along it, as he picked up the little bean of a boyfriend, fitting him between his side and the back of the couch, wrapping his shoulders with his arm, side-hugging him so when it bent he could reach and lace the devil’s fingers with his.

And as much as James seemed expectant and ready for the night’s show, Bendy just made sure of getting as comfortable as possible. His unlaced had went across reaching for the man’s chest, right under his own head, feeling the soft rising of his chest and the warmth it emanated, even being lulled by his heartbeats. He made his way deeper in the arm’s crouch, pulling a bit his laced hand so he could blanket himself with his couple’s arm, and slowing his own breaths, he let himself drift away in the comfort of whom he dearest most.

“You ready for this Ben– Ben?” He trailed off the moment he felt some soft low whistles escaping the devil’s tongue, so quiet that couldn’t be taken as anything other than from a sleepy little bean. His initial confused appearance quickly changed by one softer and tender, reclining him a bit so he could press a kiss in the devil’s forehead, feeling him snuggle down even more in his slumber and comfort, as he tried to disturb him the less possible, lowering the radio volume before he returned to his quietest position.

“Maybe some other night.”

[kny111]

I know I haven’t really updated on here. Fatherhood can be really tiring and time consuming as it is a blessing and will change who you are for the better, at least for me. I’ve been away from a lot of the subjects I used to normally post about until recently, that’s because I picked up the energy and interest for science journalism again. To say I went off to have a long waited talk with nature is to minimize greatly the kind of transformations I’ve undergone. The mysteries she’s shown me far greater than any cosmic unknown that I could have ever imagined of. I know a lot of the folks who used to follow this blog might be surprised to know that within that journey I’ve seen, experienced and have been in communion with some really influential spirits of old. Nature’s hidden variables. Whatever you want to call it. Something occurred when I decided to take more seriously the religions and spirituality of my ancestors. Something that only reinvigorated my love for science and the unknown, physics, art, and expression of these things for beneficial communal use. I’m from Quisqueya, the first testing grounds for colonialism and subsequently the evolution of neo-colonialism. Not too long after and we become one of the first pit stop for the trans-Atlantic slave trading markets to proliferate and spin the rest of the world off into the white supremacist capitalist patriarchy hell branch of a reality we know of today. Our little island has undergone so many transformations and inclusion of peoples, cultures, so many I only recently found out of like how Haitians took in Jewish refugees during the time of Hitler’s nazism. Because I still deal with mental health issues and depression being one I’ve had since childhood, I sometimes don’t have near enough energy to convey how have things been going since my last big update here. My spiritual and religious journey, finding comfort in myself and closure in ways I no longer adhere to. That said I found it beyond amazing how earlier today on October the 14th ‘Indigenous Peoples Day‘ I was drumming away to Tainx music without realizing what day today was without looking at my social media feeds yet. Here I was normally thinking I’m so tired, down and out of trying to keep these cultures alive and I was already doing so instinctively in the truest way I know how.

Like I mentioned, I decided to take more seriously my Afro-Indigenous roots and what it meant to be a Black Dominican Haitian Taino American. It took me on the wildest ride with the unlikeliest subject ranging from seeing quantum entanglement examples right before my eyes, seeing living breathing afrofuturism through my Vodun, Catholic, Christian roots and the functionality of Vodun to incorporate so many ancient parts of being Black into what intuitively led me down a road of self and outward knowledge on the cosmos around me. To then blend these epigenetically installed formulas of spirituality embededd in me by history and nature, incorporate them into my expression of art and self which is one has been like achieving a life long dream I didn’t even know I had. I did so much intuitive shit that was so clearly linked to my identity as an Afro-Indigenx American immigrant along the way that I had erected an altar without knowing it was an altar. I would section and compartmentalize this prototype altar so beautifully and had no clue I was paying respects to my ancestors and spirits of the world until more recently a few months back. When I realized this, it was like a Cambrian explosion occurred in me. I don’t want to get into the details of the abilities it brought out that I already had in me due to prying eyes (ahem surveillance capitalist patriarchy is still outchea at large) but to simply meditate and think on my folks has given me such a renewed and strengthened sense of intuition and appreciation for the past and future that I never knew existed. Sometimes I’ll legit write and prophesize shit out the ass like it’s a normal day it’s wild, shit I never believed in but the science seems to check out with quantum physics and what not. That’d be an explanation for another time. The altar has now evolved to a place I can really go to and express but at the same time it’s something I’ve learned to keep within my own self so that it’s not the altar that’s important, rather the changes I’ve gone through to get to such a place. I write, dream, visualize, laugh, act, improvise, predict based on science, meditate, heal, rehabilitate myself there. But conversely the world speaks to me there, the spirits of old, new, those to be. I know it sounds type wild but it’s gotten normal for me to experience something my old science nerd ass self woulda made fun of me for. But when you get into a connection with ya ancestors like I have and reach the conclusions and deductions I have on the systems that control the planet it gets clearer to see that the Indigenous were right all along on colonialism, it’s gotto go. There’s no place for it in the future if we’re to survive a planet seemingly becoming another Venus. I’d like to think we not gone be fighting each other while some catastrophe bop our asses one time like they did the dinos. That’s one of the main messages they keep tellin me and it’s hard to refute. I’ll try and continue this update on another day as there’s so much in between and concepts and ideas I wanna share about how to move forward on activism and using art to get our ideas about those movements across. The above images span from months, just small droplets of the cool ass journey I been on just trying to maintain some normalcy while playing my part in not helping oppressors of any kind continue proliferating their systems of domination and subjugation. So this first image is from the week not too long ago when I had 2 honey bees flying in and checking out the altar. Then I left an old jar of honey that still had some and they’d return and eat some for like a good week or so. At one point, this matrix-like moment happens when one of them goes into the jar and makes this cool sound I never heard before. The bee had gone in there before many times and never made that specific sound, it was like a lower frequency conch shell or something. When I checked the time it was like 1:23pm or 1:11pm one of those. I was like..... get Neo!! shit was so cool. This next image is really a culmination of my search to learn more about my Afro-Indigenousness which led me to learn more about my Haitianness and the spirituality and religion. From painting Papa Legba paintings before I even knew him, to giving respects to all types of 21 division spirits and Vodun loa before ever even knowing of them. It was as if each part of these religions was trying to show me how much of them was in me in how intuitively I’d gravitate towards these religions despite being still very devoted to science and scientific literacy worldwide. Idk it’s just been a really cool blending of a lot of things I never thought could come together. I found this moth around the time I was reading and thinking deeply on the creator entity in Vodun and some African religions, Gran Maitrex. I’ve always had an interest in creator stories and beings so  when this Golden Moth popped up in the altar (right on the mat I have laid in front of it, facing it, as if it came there to spend its last moments) I was like a little kid. To me it reminds me of those mysteries we’ve yet to discover that can help us in our path to heal ourselves and others if we chose to. The following two are from my walking meditating sessions by the river. They have slightly deeper stories to em about relaxation, overcoming obstacles, predictions I made that day about the sky that I wont get into on here cause it’s exhausting lol. The next image with the wooden branch I brought in from a forest walk is of one of the bees I spoke of flying around the Afro-Indigenx/ Ancient Egypt/ West Africa section of the altar. It did this several times enough for me to note that it liked that particular area. Following non repeating image is of the portrait I did a while back for the Heath Gallery in Harlem on Rein-visioning Brown and Black Bodies in Scifi: Story of 4 Tainx sisters calling for their descendants to help them from the demonic wrath of colonialism. This picture I took when I finally got to take my ass out to jog after a whole day of being a dad. I found a neat tree to try and climb at night and found this beautiful bright green grasshopper right by the branch I picked. Grasshoppers always remind me of giant leaps I could be taking forward. The following image I took during another forest walk when I looked up and saw this cool cross shape juxstapositioned among the trees. Last image I took during the Medieval festival they hold at Fort Tryon every year. It’s where I sold my awesome Medieval chicken paintings (which have now taken place at altar where I give em much love) last year dressed as Obi Wan Kenobi. This year I decided to just enjoy it with bae and did so dressed as Jedi Jesus posing as a Dominican Fryer. More pics on that to come. Just wanted to update yall on the spiritual in case anyone could use these words to benefit em. Yall take care. - Ken

[yaz-the-spaz]

First Line Challenge

I was tagged in this forever ago (like in april yikes) by the wonderful  @storyanonguy​ i’m so sorry i’m just now getting to this womp womp i’m a trash human being lol but anyways...

RULES: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

[putting this under a read more cause i couldn’t decide where was a good place to end for a lot of them and this got way long]

Twelve Fic Outtakes/Deleted Scenes: “You know the reason I bought you so many hoodies of your own is so you can stop stealing mine,” Liam says with a teasing smile when he walks into their bedroom to find Zayn sprawled out on the floor in the space between the door and the bed in one of Liam's own too-big hoodies.

call it passive or aggressive: When Liam comes home it’s to complete darkness and his first thought is one of relief because if Zayn went to sleep early then it means he blessedly didn’t see what happened at the Jingle Ball. What Roman made him say. 

The Threequel: Zayn feels the rumble of the uneven pavement underneath him as he cruises through the dark city streets, squished in the backseat of a truck, his hands bound with duct tape that he could rip through like tissue paper if he wanted. Two guards flank him, huge hulking men that by the looks of it are more show than anything. They may be big but from what he’d seen of them when they “caught” him, they’re slow and don’t seem to have too much going on upstairs, to say nothing of their actual fighting skill which is probably mediocre at best, nowhere near a match for him even on his worst day. 

Even better, they’re blissfully unaware that they’re being followed. Don’t even seem to notice the van that’s been following two cars behind them for the last eight miles or so that Zayn can see plain as day in the rearview mirror. It’s hard to keep himself from smirking, even with the barrel of a nine-millimeter pointed menacingly against his side to him still and quiet. He could tear right through the tape and empty the clip of not only that gun but also the one clipped to the belt of the guy on his other side before either of his “chaperones” even knew what happened, knock both them and the driver out and take the wheel if he wanted. But he doesn’t. That’s not part of the plan.

Beautiful Monster: Liam’s up getting ready for an early morning run when he hears it. A muffled noise like something slamming shut. It’s the third time in a row he’s heard it but the first time he’s actually awake enough not to dismiss it as just a stray animal messing about in the bins or an early-rising neighbor shutting their front door too hard or something. Because now that he’s fully alert he’s certain that that was definitely the sound of a car door slamming shut. Specifically his car. Or rather, van. He’d distinctly heard what sounded suspiciously like the soft swoosh of the side door sliding open and shut. Which is crazy because he’s certain that it’s locked and there’s literally nothing in there that’s worth stealing unless this particular thief likes rolls of pink fiberglass insulation, buckets of cement and caulk, or industrial pipes.

Two Point 0: I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

This is what Zayn thinks this to himself as he looks at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Repeats it in his head three times, like he always does on days like this. It’s his mantra. A new thing he’s been trying at Harry’s suggestion along with meditation. It’s not something he does everyday. Just on days when he’s not feeling quite as high as usual, not quite so comfortable in his own skin. When the lows start to get to him and he finds it a little harder to push the bad memories back to the recesses of his mind because the nightmares may come less often now but they still come.

Highs and lows. That’s how he categorizes his days now.

be my accomplice to my crime (partners in crime): Liam can feel the butterflies swirling in his stomach as they get closer and closer to town and he’s no less nervous than he was an hour ago or a day ago or a week ago.

It’s been two and half years since Liam left and Zayn’s done his best to avoid having to come back for as long as he could for Liam’s sake, turning down deal after deal, but this one had been too big to pass up. He’d tried. God knows he’d tried. Even gone so far as to try and hide it from Liam so he wouldn’t find out. But Liam had found the telegram early one morning while clearing out both their pants pockets just before leaving for the dry cleaner’s down the street from the hotel they’d been staying at. Zayn had still been asleep as usual, stretched out on the hotel bed in his boxers, sheets tangled around his legs and Liam had dropped back down to the edge of the mattress staring at the paper in his hands and wondering how many more Zayn had thrown away before this one.

Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds: Liam’s dreaming about The Guy again. 

The one whose name he still doesn’t know but who always manages to get assigned the package deliveries for Liam’s building.

Liam catches him sometimes, riding up on his bike. When he’s home, that is. Waits at the window like a lovesick puppy on days he knows he’s getting a delivery and watches The Guy zip through traffic like it’s nothing, hair flying in the breeze cause he never wears a helmet (even though Liam’s pretty sure the bike messenger service The Guy works for requires him to wear one for safety reasons, but God does he look so much hotter and cooler without it even if it is unsafe).

dRuNk/Like I Would/Let Me/Dusk Till Dawn: Zayn feels like Liam’s invaded his senses. Like all he eats, sleeps, and breathes anymore is Liam. Liam Liam Liam. He’d never known it was possible to feel so intoxicated by someone before but that’s how it feels whenever he’s in Liam’s orbit. Like he’s shifted into another plane of existence where the only thing in focus is Liam, the only thing he can smell, see, hear, taste, touch, is Liam, everything else blurring to the background like white noise.

Late summer nights stumbling into hotel rooms together, eyes red and words slurring together, hands and lips mapping out each other’s skin till they’re breathless with want and all the things they’re too afraid to say in the light of day.

you get off on me, it’s like cheating: Sometimes he does this. When he’s alone. Only when he’s alone. When Zayn’s away and he’s got no interviews or performances or recording sessions to go to—nothing to fill up the time—he does this. Only sometimes.

The speakers are loud, turned up to full volume to drown everything else out. All of the dogs are outside, probably barking up a storm, but he can’t hear it over the music. Over the sound of Zayn’s voice wafting over him in soft, mellow tones.

He slips out of his clothes slowly, laying back on the bed in nothing but his pants, eyes closed, lets the sound of Zayn’s voice take over. It’s so loud it feels almost tangible, like it’s all around him, like Zayn’s all around him.

He can almost imagine Zayn’s there with him, singing the words in his ear—a place that is so pure, so dirty and raw—smirking against Liam’s jaw like he knows exactly what this is doing to Liam, how much it gets to him, how he can practically feel the vibrato under his skin, thrumming inside him. His body feels like a livewire, buzzing with electricity, buzzing with Zayn—Zayn inside him, over him, all around him.

when did reality become tv: The crowd boos when Zayn comes around the side entrance and makes his way toward the empty couch next to James. Zayn flips the crowd off as he walks past, glaring at them all sourly as they jeer at him, shoves one of the overeager cameramen away from him with a hand to his lens. It only ends up riling the crowd up even more, makes their boos even louder but he doesn’t really care. He’s mainly only here for the money anyway. 

...Didn’t really notice any patterns myself but to anyone reading this (if anyone actually even bothers reading this monstrosity lol) let me know if you notice any! 

Tagging @ohthathurt @oh-no-its-elle @lirry @empty-altars...probably most ppl have already done this since it’s so old so feel free to ignore (or join in if you want even if you weren’t tagged)

[teacher-lavin]

Shawn’s Story*

Shawn’s fable unfolds along the banks of the rivers that authors, Langston Hughes and James Joyce traveled. Also, here to be found is the River Delaware as it flows through Philadelphia and environs. Among other themes, this is a tale of incarceration and deportation. Waiting at the story’s edges, readers will notice that we also meet with a lot of homework,  –and a very discerning librarian.

(Above) Image Taken from Salmon Ireland’s web site (Salmonireland.com), is a landscape photograph of the River Foyle.

The Letter

Hi Pops, thanks for your letter. Too bad, the prison blocked a lotta words out. What I got was that you’re getting to go out with work crews to pick up trash on the highways. It must be weird being chained together like that and having guards with shotguns and such watch over you guys  while you’re just basically cleaning the roadside. I really like the part where you said that you all go up to the highway right next to the river and that you always take a minute from sweepin or whatever  to look out over the riverwaves and see the sun reflect on the swelling banks and feel the breeze. So, that was a really good idea where you said if after work some day I walk to the far end of the Wal-Mart parking lot on Delaware Avenue where it comes up on the river that I’ll be looking out over the same Delaware River as you seen earlier, and I’ll be seeing the same waves, and the same currents, and the same mists and breezes playing off the wave- tops, hearin the same sounds and tasting that little bit of sea salt that the river has from its trip out to the ocean. Imma do it. I miss you, Pops. If I go down that parking lot where it looks across to  Camden on the opposite bank on the same day maybe when y’all been out on the highway cleanup crew in your orange prison suits, I’ll be able to catch up with your spirit, at least. And, I’ll say all the stuff you used to listen to me carrying on about. How muad I get at everything and how sad and sorry I feel about other stuff. Remember? I ain’t seen Mom or Dad at all for a long time. But Aunt Helen came down from the convent last week and helped me clean the place. So, we scoured the joint from “stem to stern” just like you always used to say. “FROM STEM TO STERN.” I kept repeating that and then Aunt Helen and me was laughing about the way you used to say it and about how you talk and your Irish accent, “From Stem To Stern,” like a pirate or something. Haha. Don’t get mad. I miss you. Pops. Love You. Shawn.

Saturday Morning: The Library

Shawn:  Did you see a piece of paper with writing on it? … like a letter?

Librarian: (Curtly, not looking up from her desk.) No.

Shawn: I was in here after work last night trynna do my homework, and wrote the letter, and now I can’t find it.

Librarian:  (Still not looking up.) Why don’t you check around the table where you always work.

Shawn:  Where’s the maps of Ireland. They say my grandfather might have to go back there even though he doesn’t want to.

Librarian: (Still looking down. Staccato.) Geography. Under Great Britain.

Shawn: (With an angry edge.) It’s not in Britain.

Librarian: (Looking up.) Yes, It is. Aisle 4, Shelves 10 through 17. Clearly labeled Great Britain including Ireland, Scotland and Wales.

Shawn: (Pointing to the green tattoo on his forearm) Just remember, 26 Plus 6 equals ONE.

Librarian: (Loudly, Pointing Finger at Shawn.) Quiet.

Shawn: (Louder.) No!

Franklinville High School

I had already found the letter on the floor in the back of the classroom while grading papers and cleaning the room on Friday evening. That’s when I read the letter and realized that Shawn must have dropped it that day during class. Shawn was new in our school. His body language was terse. He seemed beaten and bent inward. He refused to make eye contact. He never talked in class. When I asked him why he slept on his desk everyday, he said that he worked most nights and that he was exhausted all day. That’s all I knew about Shawn. But then, I looked at the address on his file and recognized that the neighborhood where Shawn lived was near the  block where my grandfather owned a bar many decades ago. Jimmy’s Pub opened at 7 in the morning for guys coming off the night shift at the Stetson factory and for other graveyard workers. And some 7 a.m. drinkers were guys on their way out to jobs they hated in center city offices and, then, there were the guys who had been out all night drinking and wanted one last shot before they did their daily perish. Cousins right off the boat from Ireland lived above the bar. I worked there while I was going to college. It was a hole of a place where I learned the codes of the Belfast streets thousands of miles away, streets that I’d never actually seen. I could imagine Shawn’s grandfather, his aunt and the way that prison must have  shaken them up and spit them out emotional wrecks fractured by fear, frustration and anger, fractured people living fractured lives.

Over the weekend, I read the letter over and over and wondered how Shawn would feel about my seeing his message to his grandfather. I put it in an envelope and wrote a simple note, “Found on Floor of Classroom” and, then, I noticed that I had planned for our class had to read Modern writers like Langston Hughes and James Joyce. So, I decided to begin on Monday with with a meditation. I planned for us to read the Langston Hughes poem that begins, “I’ve Known Rivers.”

Before class, when I gave the envelope to Shawn, he tore it open and sat down immediately in one of the desks at the front, disclosing the letter’s folds and smoothing out the page while he read it, running his fingers along each line as he read. Class started and he looked at me and I smiled at him hoping to silently say, “yes,” with the smile, yes, I read the letter. Shawn hesitated, looked down, then looked up again and smiled back, nodding. Then, I handed out a worksheet asking the entire class to meditate on the lines that Langston Hughes wrote as a young poet, traveling along the Mississippi River in a train headed South:

“I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the

flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.”

I played the music that the jazz musician, Gary Bartz composed to accompany the Hughes poem. I asked just one question beneath the poem’s lines.

“As you read, how do you connect the poet’s rivers to his soul?”

After class:

Shawn:  Mister, thanks for finding the letter.

Me:  I felt lucky to read it, Shawn.

Shawn: I’m not sending it cuz I just learned that my granda is going to the prison’s hospice which means that he’s very sick.

Me: (Pausing, lump in throat.) He must be very proud of you. I think you should send it to him or give it to him when you visit.

Shawn: I ain’t got the time or the money.

Me: Still, he must be proud of you.

Shawn: I don’t know if they’re gonna send him back to Ireland or keep him here cuz he’s so sick. My aunt told me about this hospice thing on Friday night when she visited from the convent in Allentown where she works.

Me: The worst part must be not knowing what’s gong to happen, right?

Shawn: (Crying, as he looked away as if he were seeing the far shore of a river through his tears, and quoting the poem.) And My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

Me: It’s quite a poem, Shawn.

Shawn: I’ll think about it at work. It’s really good.

Me: Don’t forget your homework. (Smiling, ironically).

Shawn: I never forget my homework.  (Smiling back, ironically).

Homework

Translate the following passage from James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake into your own words. Remember that this excerpt is taken from the end of Anna Livia Plurabelle’s section of Joyce’s novel. Hint: The River Liffey is the scene of this passage, all of which occurs not during the day but at night deep in the language of a very long dream about all rivers.

Monday Evening: The Library

Shawn: Do you wanna hear my homework?

Librarian: I’m busy. Don’t you work today?

Shawn: I skipped work to do my homework first then walk up to the Wal-Mart parking lot to be on the river for a minute.

Librarian: (Smiling). Aren’t you very organized, Shawn?

Shawn: This guy from Dublin’s book is all rivers. You wanna hear my translation of his story about rivers?

Librarian: Yes. But quietly.

Shawn: I’ll whisper it. It’s even better that way.

Librarian: You are a very strange young man. Have you been told this?

Shawn:   (whispering)

I can barely hear you with the waters of the river.

The waters chitter. The bats flitter.

Are you not going home alone?

Think of the waters of the River Liffey in Dublin?

Think of the waters of Lough Neagh near Belfast?

I feel as old as that Elm Tree over there.

This is Shawn’s story. This is Seamus’s story.

Good Night, Grand farther, the farther away you go.

Shawn means John.

Seamus means James.

Who were John and James sons or daughters of?

Goodnight, Pops.

Tell me another story about plants and rocks.

Please tell me.

Beside the waters, there hither like the Delaware River.

There thither like the Liffey, the Shannon, the River Erne,

The River Boyne, The River Foyle.

Now, I’m with you beside the rivering waters

The hitherandthithering waters of

Goodnight ……..

Librarian: (Looking up, mouth open in astonishment.) And you wrote that based on the passage in James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake?

Shawn: (Nodding. Smiling. Agitated). And now I have to get over to the Wal-Mart parking lot to listen to see the river and tell it what I can hear and telepath it all to my granda who’s up north waiting for the words to echo their way up and back to him.

Librarian: You seem relieved.

Shawn: Of course, it’s sad but I have to say good bye.

(Above) Clinton Cahill’s exhibition “Illuminating the Wake,” which are Cahill’s interpretive drawings on the text of James Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, synthesizing his encounters with the novel’s dreamscapes. Taken from the web site of the James Joyce Centre in Dublin (https://jamesjoyce.ie/illuminating-the-wake-no-31/).

(Above) Image from web site of Monica and Tyler Aiello’s gallery exhibition titled, “I’ve known Rivers,” which are images based upon the poetry of Langston Hughes (http://www.studioaiello.net/).

*All persons mentioned in this story are fictional (and bear no connectin to actual, historical persons) with the exception of Langston Hughes and James Joyce. All places, also, with the exception of the Wal-Mart parking lot overlooking the Delaware River also are fictional.  

(Below) Youtube Musical Composition by Gary Bartz, based upon Langston Hughes’ poetic lines, “I’ve Known Rivers.”