#Heading for the Door and Earth Moon Transit are My Favorite Songs

[mumpsetc]

I diagnose you with the album Stratosphere by Duster. Really tho its a good album and i think you might like it maybe

Never Heard Of It

[hyungieyoongi]

See You

Pairing: Professor!Hobi x Professor!Reader

Genre: Enemies to lovers + fluff + angst + Hobi and Reader have some personality conflicts at work but should really just make out or something and stop acting like they dislike each other + this entire fic is inspired by Hobi’s look in that gum commercial I mean he screamed professor with that turtleneck and plaid blazer (thank you @moon-write​ for encouraging this vision)

Word Count: 3.2K+

---

“No, no, please tell me you’re joking,” you groaned, eyes scanning over the classroom assignment list posted on the faculty board in the hallway over again, hoping you were seeing things wrong. A third look at the paper confirmed that your fears had in fact come true – you and Hoseok were teaching next door to each other the entire fall semester.

Hoseok was the History of Dance Professor in your department. He was hired at the beginning of last year, three years into your career as one of the youngest faculty members in the Music & Arts program at your university. While he was bubbly and energetic, you were the more typical academic – down-to-earth, a little bit serious. He was beloved by his students for his positive personality and passion for teaching; you were well-regarded as being a natural talent who wanted to hone your students’ abilities.  

It wasn’t that your students didn’t like your course. No, it was well-reviewed and relatively popular considering it was an elective. But once Hoseok arrived, you felt like you were competing with the star of the program. Every student, even the ones who didn’t like dance, were lining up for his course, pushing your class and others into smaller classrooms with dwindling numbers. He, of course, got the large lecture hall this year.

He was the pain in your side, constantly flashing his bright smile to get his way in the department, dazzling your colleagues. Students would often be buzzing in the hallways about how they didn’t have to take an exam in Professor Jung’s class like they did in Professor Y/L/N’s. They got to go to a local show instead and analyze the dance performance. Hoseok was creative and intelligent – that much you could agree with – but you rolled your eyes every time you saw another one of his students attempt to flirt with him.

Hoseok and you figured out you got on each other’s nerves pretty quickly. He would always play music too loud in his office while you were grading papers – he timed how long it took you to show up at his door to tell him to turn it down every afternoon. You would make it a point to have your students play samples of their pieces they’d written on the piano while he was in the middle of a lecture, leaving your classroom doors open so the notes of the instrument would float down the hallway to the lecture hall. You’d have a satisfied grin on your face when you heard the telltale noise of the lecture hall doors slamming shut.

The entire department knew about this little game the two of you would play with each other, not to mention the sarcastic comments from you and teasing jokes from him that were on repeat any time you were in the same room. The bickering was bound to get worse with the two of you in such close quarters all semester.

“Y/N!” you heard a loud voice call down the hallway. You hadn’t heard that voice in two and a half months thanks to your summer vacation. You gritted your teeth, turning with a tight-lipped smile toward your least-favorite coworker.

“Hoseok,” you greeted with a nod. As usual, your semi-chilly behavior toward him didn’t faze him.

“Y/N, come on, I thought I told you to call me Hobi!” he said cheerfully, his eyes squinting from his smile. He was wearing a cream turtleneck tucked into his khakis, plaid blazer over his shoulders. He had dyed his hair from the black you were accustomed to, his strands now a platinum blonde. You realized, begrudgingly, that he looked more attractive than he did last year.

“Well would you look at that, we’re neighbors,” Hoseok said after scanning the list on the board.

“Try to keep the gaggle of screaming fans away from the hallway when I’m teaching, would you?” you said sarcastically. Hoseok’s hand flew to his heart, acting like you had personally attacked him.

“Y/N, I cannot believe you would accuse my students of being so frivolous,” he said dramatically. “Just because we have more fun in my class, doesn’t make it any less serious than yours.”

“Oh, please, save the theatrics for the students who signed up thinking your class would be an easy ‘A’. I know for a fact that you gave out four D’s last semester.” Hoseok’s eyes twinkled at your challenging tone.

“And how many did you give out, Professor Y/L/N?” Hoseok asked in a sweet voice.

“None, thank you very much. Since my students actually learn something in my class, I don’t have to give out such low grades,” you quipped. Hoseok chuckled, running a hand through his wavy blonde hair.

“Maybe I should sit in on one of your classes this year. Learn a thing or two,” Hoseok said, stepping toward you. You flushed momentarily at his low tone, immediately stepping back. He smirked at your reaction.

“It’s invite only to audit my class, Jung,” you said before turning on your heel to walk toward your office down the hall, “I would say I’m sorry, but I’m really not!” you yelled over your shoulder.

You heard Hoseok laugh, and you cursed yourself for giving him the satisfaction of knowing that his teasing had gotten to you.

You had promised yourself at the end of the summer not to play into it this year – you were going to be professional, courteous. But the first time you see Hoseok, bam, it goes right out the window. 

You would just have to avoid Hoseok as much as possible.

You sighed once you closed your office door behind you. It was going to be a long semester.

---

Two months into the semester, the leaves had turned to burnt oranges and red, signaling the return of fall. Hoseok was sitting in one of the auditorium seats, his legs crossed over each other, looking down at his fingers with a soft smile playing at his lips. The delicate notes of the piano were playing from your classroom, the noise piercing the thin walls separating your classroom from his.

His class had been dismissed half an hour ago, and, based on the lack of students having straggling conversations in the hallway, yours had, too. He often waited after he was done teaching to see if you would play when you thought no one was listening. The notes you played sometimes indicated your mood; the music was soft and flowing, other times dark and intense.

Today it was, melancholic? He couldn’t quite place it, but it made him think about the change in seasons. He wondered if that was on your mind. The song was fluid, making him want to choreograph a piece to it, the dancer’s body matching the tempo of the music. He shut his eyes, picturing the movements behind his closed lids.

He’d never admit that he indulged in this as often as he did – he knew you wouldn’t be playing if you found out he was your only audience member. You had been avoiding him this semester. He had tried all of his old tricks – the loud music during office hours, teasing comments during staff meetings. But you wouldn’t blink.

He opened his eyes, the song transitioning into something light and happy. It made him think of sunshine.  

---

You stopped playing, your hands lifting off the keys like they burned you. You had been playing mindlessly, your fingers starting to pluck away at the keys in the melody that you had thought of when you would think of Hoseok.

The more you avoided Hoseok, the more you seemed to miss his overly positive personality. You would see him at staff meetings, always giving you a big smile. One day you came in late after a meeting with a student ran long, and you came into the room to see that he had saved you a seat next to him, the last one left empty in the room. 

He was still playing his music too loud, but you had stopped bugging him about it, and you noticed that it was gradually getting quieter.

You closed the cover over the keys, willing the thoughts about Hoseok to go away, packing up your papers and laptop. He was just your annoyingly happy colleague; there was no reason he should be taking up this much space in your mind.

---

“Are you honestly suggesting that the music composition class shouldn’t be considered a prerequisite for all music program students going forward?” you questioned angrily. You and Hoseok were at a standoff in the department meeting, his normally pleasant features tense, arms crossed in front of him.

“If that means that it prevents funding from getting diverted from the dance program to the instrumental students, then, yes, that is what I’m suggesting,” Hoseok countered.

“That’s ridiculous! Music composition is a fundamental building block for all students – including dance, Jung!” your voice had risen, and the department head looked between you both, deciding that the meeting had gotten too out of hand to continue.

“Professor Y/L/N, Professor Jung – why don’t the two of you take a walk around the building, get some fresh air. The rest of you, dismissed. We’ll resume this conversation, civilly, next week,” the department head declared.  

You were fuming, angrily shoving your notebook and pen in your bag before storming out of the building. You felt someone else’s presence, and you turned, groaning when you saw the last person you wanted to see standing behind you, a shit-eating grin on his face.

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“Give it a rest, Jung, I’m not in the mood,” you said grumpily.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the bookstore to grab a coffee and put this behind us,” Hoseok scoffed, smile wiped away. “But, I guess not.”

“Not everyone wants to just roll over and play nice when you flash them a smile, Hoseok.”

“Well, not everyone wants to act like they have a superiority complex, either.”

Your lips pursed, hands beginning to fidget with how angry and upset his comment made you. The two of you had been annoying last year, sure, but you had never been mean to each other. Until today.

“You don’t know anything about me,” you said quietly, heated tone still evident despite the low volume.

“The feeling is mutual,” Hoseok said harshly. “It’s not like you’ve even tried to get to know me. You immediately disliked me from day one. You never even gave me a chance!”

“That’s rich coming from you. All that shit with the music and the comments – it’s like you wanted me to dislike you,” you replied.

“I wanted you to talk to me, Y/N,” Hoseok said, exasperated. “Forget it, I can see now that it was useless to try.”

“I was trying to play nice this semester,” you said, glaring at Hoseok. “You came in like a damn bulldozer last year, disrupting everything in the department. And everyone just did what you wanted because you’re ‘mister nice guy’, and you make people laugh and people just think you’re perfect. Well, I don’t buy it.”

You took a deep breath, leveling your gaze at him.

“Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours,” your voice was stone-cold. Hoseok’s eyes flashed, lips in a thin line before he responded bitterly.

“Perfect.”

---

Things had been quiet between you and Hoseok since your fight outside of the building a few weeks ago. You politely nodded at each other in the hallway when you passed by, avoiding eye contact. You would grimace when you heard his laugh during lectures next door to yours, wanting to block the sound out.

You couldn’t get what he said to you out of your thoughts – you really didn’t know Hoseok very well. All you knew is what he presented to the rest of the world. He was bubbly and positive and optimistic; he probably thought you were just some brooding, academic stiff.

Hoseok noticed the songs you were playing lately were rather intense. Sometimes he would hear you smash against the keys like you were angry with the piano for not producing the sounds you wanted to hear.

He knew the feeling. He was spending more time in the dance studio lately, dancing aggressively to loud hip hop music, trying to drown out the frustration he was feeling at not being able to make you crack and talk to him.

That’s where he found himself tonight, trying to get rid of his stress. You were stubborn, but you were also beautiful, intelligent, passionate, tenacious. He turned his music up louder, drowning out the thoughts of you.

---

You had re-read the same sentence four times, red pen poised in your hand ready to edit the student’s paper. The loud beats were still audible from the practice rooms. It was late, and the building had been closed to students for the past two hours.

You decided to go down there. You weren’t going to get them in trouble for staying past close, but with finals coming up, you were sure the students needed a gentle reminder that sleeping was just as important as practicing.

You walked down the dark hallway, going down the steps to the practice rooms on the floor beneath the faculty offices, finding the one with the light on, music blaring through the glass panes separating the space from the hall.

You glanced into the room, seeing Hoseok dancing. You had never seen him in his element before, and it was captivating. He was wearing a black pair of sweats, an oversized yellow t-shirt adorning his slender frame. The music seemed to be moving through his body. He was grounded in the floor, an intense expression on his face as he hit heavy movements on the beat, fluidly moving through other parts depending on the music. You felt like this was personal, like you weren’t allowed to be watching, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him.

Hoseok looked into the mirror, his eyes looking toward the shadow in the hallway. His eyes met yours, his gaze burning into yours through the glass. You gulped.

He turned, grabbing a bottle of water and pausing the music. You figured that was your cue, opening the door to the studio and stepping inside.

“Was it too loud?” Hoseok asked, voice light despite the obvious tension in the room.

“No, it’s okay uh – I was grading papers, and I thought a student was still down here,” you explained softly. “I thought I’d tell them to go home, get some rest.”

Hoseok had a curious expression on his face. If he was surprised to hear why you were down here, he didn’t mention it. You felt the need to fill the silence, so you spouted the first thing that came to mind.

“You’re really talented, Hobi,” you said quickly. His eyebrows shot up at the sound of the nickname you never called him. “Hoseok – sorry, I meant Hoseok.”

“Watch out, people might think we’re friends,” Hoseok joked, but it came out strained.

“Hoseok – Hobi. I’m sorry about what I said a few weeks ago. I was heated, and I apologize,” you said, looking down at a scuff in the hardwood floors.

“I’m sorry, too. What I said was uncalled for, and I didn’t mean to upset you. Last year, this semester. Anything I’ve done that has made you mad or annoyed. I’m sorry,” Hobi said sincerely. “I-um, well…”

You looked up, waiting for him to continue.

“I just wanted your attention.”

“What?”

“I wanted your attention. I wanted you to want to talk to me. I wanted you to get to know me. Not the version of me that I show my students. I wanted you to see me. Really see me.”

You gulped, Hobi’s vulnerability making you nervous. He took a step toward you, and you willed yourself to stay in place.

“I know you do the same thing; you hide. Hide behind this persona you’ve created. I think it goes away when you play piano.”

“How do you–what do you mean?” you asked incredulously.

“I hear you play. After class. I never told you because I selfishly wanted to keep listening. Your music it – it tells a story. About your day, your feelings. If you didn’t tell me yourself, at least your music did.”

Your cheeks burned knowing that he was audience to all of the time spent in your classroom, working out your feelings on the piano like it was your therapy.

“Everything goes away when I play,” you stopped, thinking about how distracted you had been lately trying to compose. “Well, most of the time, anyway.”

“That’s how I feel when I dance,” Hobi admitted with a gentle smile. You nodded, realizing that the two of you had this in common, at least.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you said, backing away from Hobi toward the door.

“Wait –,” Hobi said, slightly flustered. “Dance with me.”

Your eyes widened. Hobi laughed, and you hated to admit that you had missed the sound.

“Come on, just trust me, Y/L/N.” You waited while he picked out a song, holding out his hand. You placed your fingers in his, and he pulled you close to him, leading you around the studio floor to the song. He made you feel light on your feet despite your lack of dance experience, his hand tightly gripping yours, his other floating over your waist. Your skin tingled from the contact.

He spun you around twice, your hands landing on his chest as you tried to regain your balance. You looked up at him, genuinely enjoying yourself. His bright smile you used to roll your eyes at lit up his features, causing your smile to match his.

“Can you see me now, Y/N?” Hobi asked, referencing his earlier confession. “Because I see you when you play. When you tell a student crying in your office that everything is going to be okay. And I see you now when you’re dancing with me like this.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Remember when you said I didn’t know anything about you?” You nodded, recognizing his reference to your fight outside of the department building. “I don’t think that’s true. But I know there’s so much more to know. And I want to know everything.”

Hobi’s hand came up to your cheek, softly placing it on the side of your face.

“I want to know you, too, Hobi,” you whispered.

He leaned forward, his breath fanning over your lips, “Want to start now?”

You gripped his t-shirt in your hand, pulling him the last few inches to your lips instead of answering. You felt him smile against your lips, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him.

He pulled back, his forehead resting on yours as you caught your breath.

“Does this mean I can start playing my music loudly during office hours again?” Hobi teased, his fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, brushing against your skin.

You made a face at him, causing him to laugh. He kissed you on the forehead, then on the lips again to make you smile before answering.

“Not a chance.”  

---

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Taglist: @alpacaparkaseok​, @delacyrose224​, @moon-write​​

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[vampirefreakism]

The Scientist (Chapter 33)

Summary: In the events following Asgard’s destruction, Loki finds himself on Earth seeking refuge to await the inevitable. Much to his surprise, it comes from a source he would never have expected.

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.5k

A/N: God let’s hope this shows up in the tags and stays there. The AO3 and Spotify playlist are linked in the Masterlist. I haven't stopped or deleted anything. I also posted this on Wattpad so check me out on there if you like!

Masterlist

----------

As one song transitioned to the next, Loki glanced away from his book to the back of the CD case. Luna wasn’t around to enjoy the music with him – the reason he spent most of the morning sending high praises to the Allfathers. She would be able to tell how quickly he lost interest in the wonders of evolution over a new album. New for him, normal for her.

Marking his place, Loki put his book down and strode over to the newly set-up record player. He traced a finger around the edges as he tapped his foot to the beat, imagining how a track might sound played through it. It escaped him as to why Luna would need another thing to play music. ‘You have one already,’ he had reasoned, but it was a lavish gift from Stark. It would have been rude to not accept it.

Loki had the privilege of carrying the boxes into her apartment and assembling everything with her. A different science than he was used to, but it was no less entertaining. Ignorantly, he had pondered out loud which album they could play. ‘We don’t have the proper format,’ Luna told him and expanded on what a vinyl record was. Loki remembered them from a trip or two to Earth during the early 20th century. A surprise people still used them, but he figured it was purely for the nostalgia.

He pressed the on button on the front, awakening the turntable. It spun clockwise in a lazy fashion. Loki was tempted to lift the cover and touch it. Feel the material move against his skin, but Luna was firm. ‘Don’t touch it unless you’re putting a record on. It has to be kept clean.’ Would she be able to tell if he defied her? Perhaps. She was more perceptive than he previously took her for.

Feeling peckish, he switched the turntable off and grabbed his phone on the way to the kitchen. Peter teased him with the promise of sending pictures of the inside of his school and his other friends. It was a naughty and dangerous idea, and Loki was all for it. Finding nothing of interest on the counter or in the fridge, he settled for an ice cream pint. No need to worry about his hand turning blue, so long as he was alone.

Loki’s phone pinged to life as he was finishing the first half of the container. It was a message from Peter. He shook his hand out, getting some warmth back into it, and opened it.

‘Hey! Im in math. Is boring’

Attached is a hastily-taken picture of a whiteboard covered in diagrams and equations. Portions of it were blocked by the many students in front of Peter’s phone camera. Loki snickered and typed out his response.

‘doesnt look so’

Two minutes pass by – enough time for Loki to fish out a few more scoops of ice cream – and Peter messages him again.

‘its one of my best subjects so it doesn’t bother me too much. Ned and MJ are in another block from me so I miss them’

Loki's brow creased. He held his spoon in his mouth, so his hands were free.

‘MJ?’

‘oh yeah right you don’t know her. Shes my other really good friend’

‘what’s she like’

The long delay for Peter’s return message put Loki a bit on edge. Intent on calming his nerves, he put the rest of his ice cream away and ventured to Luna’s room. He could hear his music still, only muffled a little.

Beneath her bed sat a row of shoeboxes, containing everything but a pair of shoes. The first Loki opened housed all of Luna’s keychains and charms. A few piqued his interest; a simple black skull, a Darth Vader figure, a mini Mjolnir, and a crescent moon with two stars attached. He smirked, turning over the little moon in his hand. He expected no less from her.

Through the concluding music, Loki’s phone chimed anew with a message for him. Careful not to step on the charms littering the floor, he shuffled back to the kitchen and opened up his device. Again, it was from Peter.

‘hey! Srry for the wait. Teacher almost caught me txting lmao’

Loki grins.

‘first rule of mischief: never get caught’

‘ooh neds here now. He says hi’

Attached is another picture, taken at a low angle, of Peter and Ned. Both boys smile into the camera as Ned waves down to it, greeting Loki through the phone.

‘hello ned. Grand to see you again’

‘we r at lunch now. MJ is here too’

This photo was not of either of the two boys, but of their friend sitting across from them at a table. The friend – Loki assumed – was MJ. She held a book in one hand as she shot someone an irritated look.

‘is this MJ?’

‘yeah. We interrupted her reading but its ok XP’

‘does she know about me being here?’

A pause in the messaging held the air still. It was as though Peter deliberated in secret. Loki was impatient for the outcome.

‘no, but she might suspect. She’s really observant. Lolol shes already commented on my txtin’

‘may not be wise to communicate in front of people’

‘maybe not. txt u later?’

‘sure’

‘kk! Talk l8r!’

A loud silence took the apartment once more. Loki was desperate to banish it, so he started the album over again. He didn't mind. It wasn't the first time he'd exhausted the work of a musician in a day.

Feeling antsy, he went back to Luna’s room. He always liked looking at her little treasures, no matter if they were new to his eyes or if he’d seen them ten times before. Tucking her box of keychains back where it belonged, he moved on to another corner of the room: her closet.

Clothes were always crucial to Loki. Being a royal meant looking his best, both in the ballroom and on the battlefield. He was consistently stereotyped as the brother with the more developed fashion sense, but Thor knew his way around an outfit as well as he. Presentation was critical in any scenario.

Loki pried the door open as careful as he could, should anything come tumbling out. Luckily, everything inside was placed smartly and in order. The upper shelf supported a few boxes and spare sheets, the clothes hung on the rack in a beautifully organized fashion, and the remained floor space kept extra bags and larger boxes. Many places to start, not enough time to go through them all.

He started with the clothing. It was a surprise to see Luna hanging her T-shirts and long-sleeved shirts up as Loki preferred to fold his, but he liked it. It made them look neat and presentable. Beside them, her pants were placed in the same way. She had a few different kinds, so Loki took a look at each.

He’d seen her in leggings and joggers in the house and the gym. Which one she wore all depended on her mood and how the day went. One pair of dress pants sat suspended amongst them. Her skinny jeans – a black pair and a dark red pair – she wore any time they went out. Today, she put the dark red ones on for work, leaving Loki with the black pair. He tried to pick a favorite, but Luna wore both exceptionally well.

Sweaters and jackets squeezed in next to them. Luna possessed a broader assortment than previously believed. The first of the group Loki spied was the sweater she wore the day they went to the aquarium. It was light grey with a graphic on the front of a dark forest. Loki passed a hand over it, tracing the trees from the exaggerated sharp tops down to the bases on the drawn ground. Simple and practical yet stylish and unique. He snuck a hand into the sleeve, feeling the inside. It was soft and plush, like wearing a blanket. A whisper of jealousy passed through his head as he imagined feeling something so comforting against his skin; a far cry from the leather and rougher fabrics of his homeworld.

He peeked at the others he hadn’t seen: a black pullover with a small cartoon alien spaceship on the left side of the chest, a dark grey hoodie with a geometric skull design, a plain black suit jacket, and a notably large black hoodie with a four-letter abbreviation embroidered broad across the chest. Loki tilted his head and unhooked it from the bar. In front of the mirror, he held it up to his frame. In theory, it could fit him, but the forefront of his mind was occupied by one question: why was it so different from the others? Looking crossly at his reflection, Loki stepped back from the mirror and put the sweater back. Better for him to move on to something else lest he leaves a trace of his meddling.

Shoved into the far side of the closet were the clothes he considered to be more formal and fancy. Things Loki never bothered to think he would see, much less worn by his friend. His eyes were first met by a dress. Luna never seemed the type to wear such a garment. Loki found it difficult to imagine it on her, but he kept inspecting it. It was black with a fit-and-flare shape and long sleeves. The fabric was soft and stretchy, and the neckline left less to the imagination than Loki was used to. He tucked it back and pushed it towards the opposite side. Enough with it for now.

The outfit behind it lay draped over the hanger in three pieces. To the untrained eye, they were indistinguishable as to what they might be. Possessing such a sight, Loki took a bold step, unhooking the hanger and laying it on Luna’s bed. One piece had a red-to-black gradient, the other was plain black, and the last was small and wine red. He took the black garment out first and held it at eye-level. Seeing it clearly, he discovered it to be a long skirt with a drawstring waistband. The fabric was a bit flimsy, as though it was meant to go underneath something. He set it down – keeping its proposed purpose in mind – and picked up the gradient piece.

The color shifted along the entire length of the cloth, and it was long. It looked to be a scarf or a wrap skirt. Perhaps it could be both at the same time. The fabric was soft, and Loki couldn’t stop touching it. It was made of silk and felt like cool water in his hands, flowing and moving as though it was alive. He hastily pulled up his sleeves and let it fall across his bare arms. To say it was heaven to touch would be an understatement. He could wear an entire robe of the material and never want to take it off.

He retrieved the final raiment and held it as he did the skirt, feeling the soft material. It was made of stretchy velvet and resembled the sports bras Luna kept in her drawer set. The neckline of the tiny top scooped a bit lower than the one on the black dress, and the short sleeves were made of embroidered red lace. Loki turned it from back to front and back again. It held no zipper, buttons, or strings to tie. Only a simple tug was needed to put it on.

Loki lay it down and stepped back. With all the pieces on display, he surveyed them properly and built up the outfit in his mind in various ways, but nothing seemed correct. Again, he was at a loss. But, to his luck, Luna’s voice came floating into his mind as he recalled a past conversation.

“I do have one, and I like it a lot, but it’s nowhere near as nice as that one.”

One. One what? Loki had an idea and a heavy feeling.

Racing out of Luna’s room, he charged through the open space to the picture of Luna’s mother. The one of her wearing an expensive saree. His eyes widened, realizing he'd snooped in the wrong place and disturbed the wrong item. Loki glanced at the kitchen clock. He had enough time to put everything back before his friend came home. He walked back to Luna’s room, swallowing nervously.

Gently, he ran his fingertips along the saree wrap cloth, feeling the energy it held. This was Luna’s one. Her one outfit representing her culture and heritage – what made up the core of her being – and he’d gone and disturbed it without a care in the world. For shame. Loki groaned and closed his eyes. He had an apology ready, but no one to apologize to.

He closed his eyes and, with his soul, reached out to Luna’s ancestors. Her family members from the mother country. The ones who survived so she could exist. Loki acknowledged the boundary he crossed and asked for their forgiveness. He folded and hung the clothes back where he got it from, hoping they would listen and grant his request. Feeling light in his chest, he smiled. They knew he was sincere.

Loki pushed the clothes into the order he found them in and closed the closet door. Enough snooping for today. He shut the bedroom door on his way out and ambled to the kitchen for an apple. The skin was crisp and the inside as savory as he liked. The apartment was quiet again. For now, Loki deserved it. A bit of hushed contemplation would do him some good. It was a curve, but he was learning.

Throwing the apple core away, he rinsed his hands and got a fresh glass of water. He took the book he had been reading and sat in the armchair by the window. Luna warranted a bit of good behavior from Loki, even though she was not there to see.

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

Close to 3pm, Loki’s phone dinged with a new message from Peter. He marked his spot in his book and opened the text.

‘finally done! Wow the day felt long’

Loki grinned and responded.

‘I bet’

‘so where r u now? R u at the compound?’

‘no, im in lunas home’

‘ooooooh what do you do there all day’

Loki paused, deciding what to tell him.

‘read her books, watch her movies, listen to her music’

‘noah fence, but that sounds kinda boring :P’

“‘Noah fence?’" Loki muttered under his breath. "Oh, ‘no offense.' Right.”

‘it can be, but we go to the compound on Saturdays and out anywhere else’

‘nice nice nice! U comin by this weekend??? to the compound???? ?????’

Loki snickered at Peter’s apparent excitement. He humored the boy.

‘I might’

‘pls bcuz I have some stuff I wanna show u’

‘looking forward to it’

‘:D I have decathlon practice now, so txt l8r??’

‘sure. You know where to find me’

‘lol yeah’

Loki didn't bother texting back. Peter was busy studying with his friends, or so he imagined. He got up and turned his music back on, again, not bothering to change the CD. Good music deserved to be listened to.

His enjoyment was short-lived as his phone rang with a different tune, this one constant and more musical. Luna had shown him what it meant. Someone was calling him.

Loki looked at the screen and saw Luna’s name lit up. He pressed the green button and held it to his ear.

“H-hello?” he spoke.

He heard a light muffled gasp. “You answered! Yay!” Luna praised.

Loki smirked. “Yes, I did.”

“So, uh, hi.”

“Hi.”

Loki heard a distant cough. “Um, what are you doing right now?”

“Waiting for you. Listening to music and reading.”

“What are you reading? Anything interesting?”

"Oh, yes. In fact, it’s one of your biological science books.”

“Ooh, which one?”

Loki read the cover. “‘Four Billion Years’ by William Loomis.”

“Mm, good choice.”

He opened the book to a random page as though Luna was watching him and he had to prove it. “The genetic code is so complex. It’s no wonder you study it.”

“Yeah. There isn't a dull moment with it. So, which artist are you listening to?”

“A wonderful lady by the name of,” Loki picked up the CD case, “Marina.”

“Oh! Awesome!” Luna exclaimed. “And how do you like her?”

“Very much. She’s fantastically accomplished.”

“I had a feeling you would like her stuff. Which song do you like most so far?”

“I couldn’t possibly choose. They’re all good.”

“Just one. The other songs won’t feel less liked, I promise." She giggled, and so did he.

“Let’s see.” Loki flipped the case to the back and read the track list. "Uh, ‘Fear and Loathing.’ "

“Ooh, nice choice. I love that one. They're all good. I have several favorites.”

He hummed. “So, what are you doing now?”

“Taking a bit of a break. I called to tell you that I’m going to be late. Traffic is horrible right now, so it’s not safe for me to leave yet. I’m also working out some ideas for a new experiment.”

The fire of Loki’s interest was stoked. “Oh?”

“Mhm. It’ll be a DNA manipulation using CRISPR like last time, but I would have to redo an RNA template for the new organism.”

“Which one might you be using?”

“Zebrafish. I want to test healing time.”

“Why use a new one when you already have the first one?”

“Because zebrafish are larger than the worms and transparent, so I can see all the inner workings, even the blood vessels in real-time. I can nick one a little and see the movement of the cells as it heals the wound. They also have an organ system similar to humans so I can visualize things more easily than with a worm.”

Her job never ceased to capture him. He felt like he could watch her work all day.

“Amazing,” Loki breathed out.

“Yeah! I've seen a bunch of videos where they do that, and it's really cool, so I'm hoping to get some good results. Even if they don’t change from the average results of a non-mutated fish, it’s not nothing.”

“Of course, but may I speak freely?”

Luna chuckled low into the phone. “You may.”

“I think you will get a difference." He didn't wish to give anything away, but he was confident she would get something. If the worms could produce ice particles on their own, the fish would do the same.

“I will keep that in mind.”

“I suppose I should let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, I have some more things to finish up before I leave. Hopefully, the traffic will be a little more merciful on me.”

“Here’s to hoping.”

“Hm, yeah. Well, bye, Loki. See you at home.”

“Yeah. Bye.”

Loki listened to the buzzing silence on the other end of the line. Pressing the red button, he set his phone down and wandered back to the record player. A present from Stark. Luna got a pair of socks from Peter. And what from Loki? Nothing. As he pulled gently at the string bracelet around his wrist, he thought of her. Luna was the best friend he wished he had earlier in his life but never got. Now, he had her, but how has he repaid her kindness?

Loki gave to his kingdom for four years as its king, proving to his people he was better than the person he used to be. He had the capacity but lacked the resources. What could only he offer? Stark and Peter had more stable connections, but what did Loki have? What did they have together?

He looked around the room and noted all points of interest. They shared film, music, food, and dancing. Yes, dancing was a good place to start. She only did it with him. With nothing Asgardian to gift, he would have to settle for something earthly. Something she didn’t currently possess but would greatly enjoy.

Loki perused the CD shelf. He knew most of the artists, but he didn’t know what Luna didn’t have or if she would like something new. His eyes flitted from album to album and stopped on one he recognized: ‘Led Zeppelin IV.’ Their first dance was in there. Reading the spine of the case, Loki laughed under his breath. Luna was influencing him again, making him sentimental. But now, as an idea formed in his head, sentiment felt good.

His phone dinged, providing a momentary distraction.

‘done with the stuff. About to go on patrol so my messages will be here and there’

It was from Peter. Perfect timing.

‘alright, but one thing before you go’

‘yah??’

Loki took a deep breath and, with shaking hands, typed out his question.

‘how much do you know about vinyl records’

----------

Taglist:  @the-doctor-9-10 @pinkieperil @sherlockfan4life

[doomedandstoned]

Portland’s TROLL Unveil First Sounds from Astounding New LP ‘Legend Master’

  ~By Billy Goate~ 

  Photos by Stephanie Savenkoff 

I can tell you how excited I am to share this new music with you by Portland, Oregon's TROLL. I've been a big believer in this band from before they had a singer, describing them as Rip City's answer to Elder. I was the first to film them and have had the privilege of capturing their charismatic performances with frontman Rainbo several times since. The last time, it was after TROLL had released their very well received eponymous debut and they were airing new material. I thought it was absolutely brilliant, enthusiastically sharing one song in particular on social media, which at the time was called "Bridges of the Holy/Tunnels of the Damned." When I found out that Doomed & Stoned would be giving the formal debut of the new song, now titled "Legend Master, Book I: Proverbs of Hell," I practically flipped.

'Legend Master' (2019) is without doubt TROLL's most brilliant effort to date. John Rainbo (vox), Wayne Boucher (bass), Lou VanLanning (guitar), and Ryan Koger (drums) have simply outdone themselves with these five hefty doomers, beginning with "Flight of the Dragonship." I’ve heard the guys perform this encore several times, but never envisioned it playing the introduction. Suffice it to say, it works -- even if it will take a few spins for me to adjust to thinking of it this way.

From this impressive opener, we transition into an emotional two-parter, the album's namesake “Legend Master,” which we'll all get to hear the first chapter of today. Its expansive, rhapsodic character gives it a most epic vibe. Rainbo’s vocals bear the influence of early Candlemass and the riffs are absolutely golden. In fact, I can envision many of you spinning this record on a Sunday morning during a wake ‘n’ bake (or without, if you prefer), with your hair sprawled out on the living room floor, getting totally lost in the cinematic quality of the storytelling.

This takes us through “The Door,” where we bear witness to some of the most poetic material heard this side of Led Zeppelin's Houses of the Holy. I really love how Rainbo's vocals are layered at critical junctures in the singing. Having heard this pulled off equally well without it, I am happy to see the band taking some creative risks in studio. It’s my absolute favorite of the album and may, in fact, be the best song I’ve heard in many years. Some may feel it is the conclusion to the album, as least it has a very "ultimate" feel about it.

At last we reach "Yaulzcan Mountain," which was the only song of the album I don't remember the band auditing live (it may have been a very early version if I've heard it). There’s a very sanguine feel to the first half of the song, as the protagonist sings exaltedly of shedding this mortal coil and flying away. Then the tempo quickens and we are off to a riff-driven ascension into Elysian Fields, as the curtains close.

The word "regal" was used in the press release for the new record and I have to agree that it is a fine choice here. Though the band is unquestionably rooted still in the fuzzy, low-end stoner-doom sound of their previous album, I lost consciousness of genres altogether while listening, swept away in the grand fantasy of it all. TROLL’s instincts for songcraft continue to impress in Legend Master. In fact, each of these tracks could stand on their own instrumentally, yet the vocals take them to a new level of grandiosity altogether. Regardless of how you describe it, one thing is certain: Legend Master is in a league of its own.

If you're ready to do a deep dive into the lore behind the band's sophomore record, be sure to check out my interview with Rainbo below. Late last summer, I had the privilege of getting into a long conversation with him at a cafe in Salem, Oregon as evening waned into night. I can tell you that despite how you may perceive him from public performances, Rainbo is a god damned intellectual and exchanging words with him always opens up a dozen new rabbit trails for me to pursue later on. Troll does such an admirable job throughout the record of weaving fascinating tie-ins with legend and literature alike, while continuing to develop an imaginative new world to absorb listeners.

Troll's new album 'Legend Master' (2019) comes out on vinyl, cassette, and CD via Shadow Kingdom Records on April 12th and today, we're giving you a first listen. If you dig the single, you can get it here and pre-order the album here.

Give ear...

Solemn As the grave, Ghastly hand Behold me

Walk alone With my shade Spiral eye goddess Awake!

Through these days, beyond years I wept gold and silver tears Your face was so beautiful And your kiss (flesh), divine Come and sit By the river, once more, by the river...

Through the ages My book, it will tell It breaks my heart to know You're going to hell...

Interview with TROLL's Rainbo

How has the band grown since the first album was released? What are your relationships like, has it gotten easier to make music together? Do you sense an overall distinctive style is cementing in your compositions?

For Troll, it hasn't been easy to sustain the burst of attention that came our way unexpectedly after the release of our debut album. We had some mild hopes and expectations, but we weren't prepared both for the intensity and excitement that greeted our album and our live performances- the community embraced us with almost no external promotion aside from reviews on websites that enjoyed our work. We hadn't prepared things like merchandising, tour plans, or any of the basic sustaining functions of a band, so we tried to take what came us, but mainly we were reacting rather than being proactive.

We threw ourselves into making this second record because we knew the songs were a grander form of doom, that these compositions were more indicative of our talents and where we were headed as a band. But although we seemed to turn out the recordings fairly quickly (recording for Legend Master wrapped in October 2017, only a year after our debut was released), unforeseen delays, internal miscommunication within the band, and miscommunications between the band and our label ended up causing a totally unneeded delay in the tracks being sent to the vinyl press, essentially stalling Troll through all of 2018. Because of that delay, the band has had to find strength in our desire to create unique and powerful heavy music, and we're now well into the process of developing the music and themes for the third album, the last in the trilogy detailing the doomed no-name Troll's cycle of fate.

We are stronger together now, and more comfortable on stage, almost as if during our unforced hiatus we've been training Rocky-style for this moment of return. Our mission is pure epic doom, no punches pulled, and our goal is perfection of our progressive combination of grooves, melodies, and memorable choruses. We aren't trying to be like any other band, we want to be a heavier, more powerful Troll.

Tell us the background on the new album thematically -- what's the lyrical thread running through each song and is there a link to your previous material?

To understand Legend Master thematically it's necessary to know at least a synopsis of the debut album's story arc. Troll I lyrically follows a fairly defined origin-story narrative, introducing a malevolent wizard figure who conjures the unnamed Troll out of mushroom root in an ostensible attempt to use the Troll to thwart his enemy, a witch of some great power. The Troll gains strength but is disillusioned with his newfound powers, as he can see that neither the witch nor the wizard care about him except for his potential for violence.

Troll by Troll -U.S.

Even so, he is convinced that the destroying the witch will do some good and possibly set him free from the wizard's service. But as he is victorious over her, the form of the witch morphs into that of the wizard, who has simply been using the Troll all along to culminate a dastardly spell which occasions a great flood on Earth, destroying everything. The tyrannical wizard disappears into the aether, and Troll is forced to resort to magic to escape, calling forth a celestial Dragon and leaving the Earth to take refuge on the moon until the waters of flood recede.

This is where Legend Master begins, opening with Troll being marooned on the moon for a thousand days and nights while the earth dries up. When it does, he is stricken to find that the planet seems completely dead and nothing has survived. In a fit of desperate depression, he and his dragon depart our galaxy to search deep space for any signs of coexistence, of aliens or gods. He finds nothing, but remembering that the evil wizard had mentioned something of a God at the End of The Universe, the Troll presses on into the icy blackness of total void in order to salvage something from his seemingly meaningless existence.

It is there that he finds the Watcher, The Legend Master: the thing of things, the memory and mind of all events that have ever happened, and ever will. Asked by the Troll to divulge his secrets, the Legend Master opens his hollow mouth to tell some strange tales of personal betrayal and lost loves, showing he too had once been mortal.

The Troll doesn't know that black magick hexes the Master's words as he speaks, for once the Watcher tells his tale out-loud to a listener, the listener must take his place. On the completion of his tale, the Legend Master disappears through a door leading into a vortex, freed by the completion of the spell, and Troll is pulled through the door and vortex into an lifeless interzone, to live forever with his lonely mantle as the God at the End of The Universe.

Troll is aghast, and vows to build himself an incomparable temple to his godhood, to enjoy the fruits of his limitless power. But this too becomes tiresome, and he longs to end his eternal life- which he does, committing ritual suicide while renouncing his power and burying himself in a shrine lost in the void -- but all is not yet void. The Troll's story will conclude in the third album, part III.

Legend Master by Troll

Tell us specifically about the song we are premiering and, in some detail, what it is about, how you composed it, who was involved, any tie-ins with fantasy/sci-fi lore, and anything else interesting about its recording or live performance.

The song "Legend Master, Book I: Proverbs of Hell" was built around a riff Wayne (bass) had been kicking around since 2003. The rest of the band worked out a structure and added melodies and riffs, with vocal placements being specifically sequenced to fit the album's lyrical progression. It wasn't the first song finished for this album, but it has been in our live repertoire for almost two years now.

The song thematically functions as a reverie or remembrance of a mortal episode in the Legend Master's pre-divine life, the spark of his disillusionment and search for godhood. He is trying to show the Troll that there is nothing good about being a god, especially since the wistful memories only claw at the Legend Master -- he longs to sit again by the river with his beloved one more time, but cannot.

The subtitle "Proverbs of Hell" references the collection of aphorisms of the Devil from "The Marriage of Heaven and Hell" by William Blake. Allusion is made to the poem in the lyrics, and the Troll doesn't understand that the Legend Master is hinting to his face that the Troll is the one who is doomed: being transfixed by the story, the Troll doesn't see his own transformation into a lonely god happening.

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[rottenappleheart]

“if you’re going to liveblog something at least put it under a cut,” i say to myself

majora’s mask, unfiltered notes from opening screens to entering termina

the opening flybys of MM just... show you the world, and the people in it, living their lives, and Link unobtrusively in the middle of it all

various locations (my favorite is the graveyard with link sitting playing games with the skeleton children) but it always ends with the music souring, growing faint, the darkening sky, the lowering moon

the message is clear: this is a good place, it is in danger

(hidden message: it is not your good place, but that shouldn't make a difference, your heart instinctively goes out to these people who look so familiar)

contrast to the openings of the other games

oot: link is very solitary, a hero riding alone, interspersed with very dramatic scenes of his exciting adventures, it is a story of Destiny and Prophecy and Good Versus Evil

which matches as well with the actual first scene and the mood being set in each

oot: the lonely child, dreaming of horrible things and quaking in fear at his own powerlessness, and the friend who comes to him, navi the fairy, the literal Call To Action on his hero's journey

ww: your peaceful life, your idyll, your complete detachment from and indifference to history and destiny, until your idyll is violated by schemes older than you can imagine

tp: cold open on a soft and melancholy mood, a mature conversation between adults and the responsibilities they bear, emphasizing the humble beauty of life and hard work

mm: an even more intensely somber mood than tp - link riding alone, as he does in the dramatic openings of several different games, but slowly and with head down, plodding along through featureless woods... a heaviness and sadness to the scene, into which the ambush and robbery is jarring not only for the violation of your personal belongings but also for a violation of your quiet and inward mood

i just love that deeply unsettlign opening - the sound of a laugh over a dark screen, the mask rushing over your view, alternating between the heart and the horror, the horror and the heart

(the dark heart, the empty heart)

a game that really grips to the power of ungrounded images against the darkness - the mask salesman, some of the stories being told, Link undergoing his transformations where the whole world falls away and there is only darkness and solitude in this moment of pain

unrelated: i really love how they designed the clocks in mm, not just the big one obviously but the little copies scattered throughout the world! my sister and i once sat and stared at one until we could understand how it is tracking time. i love the colors and all the spinning parts.

actually i love all the textures and colors in mm, it's so much more detailed than oot, and one of the many reasons i haven't replayed it in forever is because i wanted to wait until i could play it via hypatia's high-res mod

okay that's enough sitting on the floor watching the loading screens time to go

at the mere feel of an n64 controller i am rushed back to my gentle youth

aw yeah hold R for shield, that's the stuff

the legend was held "dearly" by the royal familk=y

he crept away

a private journey

a beloved friend

link forsaking his own legends

and then the so-familiar sound  of navi's wings

i'm crying

the mask appearing before skull kid himself, a clue to what is going on and who is wearing whom

and that little glimmer of actual eye underneath (because at this point he can still take it off)

i wonder if the "huh? this guy? ... well, that shouldn't be a problem" was a reference to skull kid recognizing link (from their own youth, playing music together in the forest) or if one of the fairies pointed out the Sword, Shield, Steed heroic combo he's got going on

... okay so the thought of "what happens if the ocarina breaks" has played into MULTIPLE vast epics of loz fanfiction that never saw the light of day off my own personal hard drive

but it's a chilling thought! you are so helpless without it, even more than you are without a sword (because your adventures are based in doing the impossible)

for being a voiceless game it actually has a lot of voices, more than i recall in most other zelda games - everyone emotes a little bit, everyone is recorded

i still remember the first time i played this and realized that you do FLIPS when you jump now AND I HAD NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED

oh hang on gotta run through all the long streamery fairies so that they scatter

it's tradition

SWORD OUT

BUSHES TRIMMED

HYA!

and the ability to press Z to rapidly center the camera behind yourself, something a lot of games should continue to implement

looking at you, enslaved

and... acually everything, yeah, let me put the camera behind myself in a single button

omg skull kid's terrifying head-bobble

and the sound of the deku scrubs ecjoing

the blurred camera

i take it back this is terrifying

... for a zelda game

ON THE OTHER HAND, BECAUSE IT IS A ZELDA GAME, IT IS ONLY -SO- TERRIFYING

BECAUSE YOU HAVE BEEN TURNED INTO THE CUTEST CREATURE ON EARTH

A LITTLE SHRUBBERY GIJINKA WITH A FUNNY HAT AND A KILT

WHO PIROUETTES ACROSS STILL WATER AND BLOWS BUBBLES AT HIS ENEMIES

my heart!!!

i agree skull kid it is a good look for him

i disagree that he will be here forever

have you met him

he's the hero of time

even as tatl's dialogue is rude and aggressive she sounds (literally) just like navi, her little excited and sad and exploratory noises

(have i ever decided for myself what is inside a fairy's light sphere? no)

(do i think about what must be going on in link's head when tatl says "why are you looking at me like that," the shock and hope and longing)

i really want to know what... place they are in, during this transition, where worlds have been/are being crossed but also someone has taken the time to paint the walls with murals of flowers blooming, and the ceiling with yellow diamonds, and the doors erupting with scarlet flames

UGH I LOVE BEING DEKU LINK WHAT A CUTIE

THE CUTEST MCCUTERSON TO EVER CUTE

(pulling on my tp-link-is-oot-link theory, i can easily read tatl as practice for midna, and how link just... rolls with the punches of the latest selfish bossy violent girl to fall into his life)

n64 zelda sounds ;____;

OH NO THE PETRIFIED STUMP ;___________________;

the worst ;________________________________________;

THE FIRST RESOUNDING SLOW MUSIC OF THE SONG OF HEALING AND THE CLOCKWORKS

FUCK I'M SO GLAD I'M PLAYING THIS AGAIN

remind me to tell y'all about the "song of endings" please

a move they tried again, with greater success, in TP - beginning with your vision very narrow, literally climbing up from the depths of confusion and decay until you are finally high and out and able to see where you are

i like the moss growing on everything too, it's such a nice touch

this is what i'm saying, every square inch of termina is carved and painted, they stacked layers and layers of patterns onto the same polygon shapes they used for oot and it's so neat, i love heavily-textured and decorated worlds

i've spent a few minutes now looking at the symbol painted on the inside of the clock tower door, and i can't parse it - three green shapes in the midst of red curlicues? maybe it's nothing, but if it has a meaning i want to know what it is

(by the way it has become wine o'clock as i type all this up so be warned)

THERE IT IS

YOU'VE MET WITH A TERRIBLE FATE

HAVEN'T YOU

okay yeah it's overplayed now but that line is just. so good.

and tatl immediately hides from him

SO THE THING IS (yeah you can tell i have wine the capslock is staying on) HE SAYS RIGHT OUT THAT HE OWNS THE HAPPY MASK SHOP, AS IN, THE HAPPY MASK SHOP IN HYYRULE CASTLETOWN

DOES HE KNOW YOU??? IS THE HAPPY MASK SHOP TRANSCENDING TIME AND SPACE???

WHAT DO YOU KNOW HAPPY MASK SALESMAN??????

one of the weirdest possible options for them to have picked as a Recurring NPC for these games, what was going on here

(in my head this is... basically garfield the deals warlock as well)

aaaaaaaugh the abrupt jump cuts in this scene are so effectively unsettling

"I can help you," he says, while immediately behind his head, on his pack hands a mask of a screaming human face lest you get too comfortable

i missed everyone having pointy ears in the N64 zelda games! in ww and even tp it's a lot less common, no longer a given. but an integral part of the zelda world to me was always the hylians with their long ears and the gerudo with their round ones, and that transcendentally racist bit of lore that hylians were better able to hear the gods because of their ears.

my heart racing as i stand before the doors

about to enter termina

about to start that clock running

here we go