#May twenty fourth 2021

[blinkaftermidnight]

Leatin from Other Perspectives

Read on AO3.

This is a very interesting case of an unfinished fic where I ended up struggling with Fatin and Leah's POVs rather than anyone else's. This is from May 2021, and I still think it was an interesting idea to filter Leah and Fatin's relationship through the eyes of everyone else and to lay out the timeline by jumping POVs to who discovered them next. Guess I just wish I could've brought it home lol.

Anyway, after this, there's really only a few more unfinished fics I have that I could share (I think?). Some I'm still holding out hope that I'll finish them someday.

Chapter Text

[Shelby]

She almost misses it. The first sign that something has shifted between Leah and Fatin. She almost misses it, maybe because she’s so tied up in her own rapidly evolving relationship with Toni, and then Rachel loses her hand, and then they pass the one month on the island mark and – the point is, Shelby’s rather impressed with herself for spotting it at all, given how many distractions exist out here. Actually, she’s more impressed that – by her own assessment – she’s also the first person to catch on.

Of course it’s Fatin that sells them out, albeit not on purpose. Leah has reined in her emotions since the shark incident, since Leah accused Nora of spying on them and trapping her in a pit. The only problem is, Leah’s reined her emotions in too much, and now – day thirty six – she expresses nothing. At least in front of Shelby and the entire group. Maybe Shelby would’ve figured it out from Leah if she’d known to pay closer attention before Fatin’s first slip up. It’s not even anything huge. In fact, no one else notices. It’s a little bit funny how Fatin could point out to Shelby how she knows sexual tension when she sees it but not anticipate that Shelby might, in turn, spot it between Fatin and Leah.

There’s just something about the way, on the thirty sixth night on the island, Fatin holds her hands out to Leah, something about the look on Fatin’s face as she pulls Leah to her feet, as Fatin stands protectively while Leah lingers in her space, as their eyes lock. There’s something about the way Fatin glances around at the rest of them, as if she’s gauging who might be watching them, something about the way Fatin’s eyes stop on Shelby. Something about the way Fatin flinches, ever so slightly, before dropping Leah’s hands and announcing that the two of them are going to take a walk up the beach, and no one should bother to wait up for them.

Shelby would look to Leah for confirmation that something is up – but Leah’s as unreadable as she’s been since the twenty fourth day, and perhaps nothing is happening. Perhaps Shelby is imagining it. Or perhaps Fatin has a little crush and needs a pep talk. Shelby would bet anything that Leah doesn’t remain completely emotionless when she’s only around Fatin, but that’s more of a hunch than anything else. Shelby watches Fatin and Leah retreat up the beach, catches the way Fatin glances over her shoulder, straight at Shelby, then quickly looks away.

Something is up. Shelby’s certain of it. When Toni joins her in front of the fire, offering her a lychee from their stash, Shelby considers asking her, considers voicing her thoughts about something that really isn’t any of her business. It’s that thought that keeps her quiet, at least until she has a chance to speak to Fatin first. Last thing she needs is to accidentally spread rumors about Fatin and Leah. She knows Toni would never say anything if she asked her not to, but Shelby still doesn’t want to risk being overheard.

Fatin was upfront with her. Shelby can return the favor. So Shelby doesn’t wait long. Approximately twelve hours. She seeks Fatin out in the morning, while everyone else is still asleep. Fatin’s only awake because she’s on fire duty, and Shelby has just started naturally waking up earlier and earlier since she first got with Toni. So after Shelby makes her morning bathroom run, she approaches Fatin.

“So what’s going on?” Shelby asks.

Fatin startles, drops her bottle of water to the sand, and exclaims, “Shit, girl! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry,” Shelby says. She invites herself to take a seat next to Fatin, pulls her legs to her chest, and smiles when Fatin looks at her. “I just thought we should talk,” Shelby says.

“About what?” Fatin questions. She scoops up the now empty bottle of water, frowns at the damp sand.

“Leah,” Shelby says. She hesitates before adding, “Or, rather, you and Leah.”

“Hmm? What? What do you mean?” Fatin asks. Shelby hesitates again, lets her eyes search Fatin’s face for any sign that Fatin’s pulling her leg, but Fatin seems dead serious. She has no idea what Shelby means.

“I just mean…it seems like something’s going on between you two, and I thought you might want to talk about it with someone who…understands,” Shelby says slowly.

Fatin blinks. She opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. Opens her mouth again. Closes it. Presses her lips together as she thinks. Shelby waits patiently as Fatin processes the meaning behind Shelby’s carefully selected words. Shelby stares down at Fatin’s hands, remembers a few weeks back when she still had her purple acrylic nails. Shelby lets her eyes drift over to where Leah’s still curled up in the sand, separated from everyone else, with Fatin’s hot pink track jacket bundled up beneath her head. Leah sleeps with her face pressed into the jacket, has a sinfully expensive watch strapped to her wrist. The watch Fatin had worn up until – well, Shelby can’t remember when Fatin stopped wearing it and when Leah started.

“Who else knows?” Fatin asks quietly. So quietly, Shelby strains to hear her, has to lean closer.

“I – I’m sorry?” Shelby says. “Who else knows what exactly?”

“So you caught us, somehow,” Fatin says, waving her hand around and rolling her eyes. “Obviously we haven’t been discreet enough. Who else here knows?”

“I’m not – I don’t think I follow,” Shelby says. “You mean something is going on between you and Leah?”

“Well, duh,” Fatin scoffs. “You pointed it out.”

“I asked,” Shelby points out. “I wasn’t sure. But I don’t think anyone else has caught on.”

Fatin sighs in relief, rubs at her temple. “Good. I mean, I don’t give a shit, but I swore to Leah I wouldn’t say anything. It’s new, okay? And it’s fragile, and I don’t want everyone poking their noses into our shit and – and ruining it before it can go anywhere.”

Shelby’s eyebrows raise. “Wow. So you really care.”

Fatin’s eyes narrow before she says, “I haven’t proven that enough these last –”

“No, no, of course I know you care!” Shelby interjects. “I just meant – it’s not just – I kind of thought maybe it’d just be sex?”

Fatin exhales heavily, glances around at all the others – still asleep – before she admits, “Actually, we haven’t had sex yet.”

“Oh,” Shelby says. “Really?”

“Hey, don’t judge,” Fatin replies. If Shelby didn’t know any better, she’d think Fatin sounds a little…defensive.

“So this isn’t about getting an orgasm,” Shelby says. “You just actually like Leah.”

“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds gross,” Fatin whines. Shelby stifles her laugh into her hand, pretends like she’s coughing until Fatin grins at her. “No, it’s okay. You can laugh,” Fatin says. “I know it sounds so unlike me.”

Shelby can’t argue, just nods and lowers her hand from her mouth. “Well, if you ever wanna talk, I know how to…” she trails off and pretends to zip her lips as Fatin smiles, shakes her head.

“I liked it better when I was offering to help you,” Fatin says.

Shelby’s lips twitch into a frown as her eyes flick back over to where Leah’s still sleeping. She isn’t exactly a peaceful sleeper, looks troubled even now. “She shut down on us,” Shelby observes. “Maybe you think only you noticed…I worry about her, too, and if you need help – I don’t know. I’m here, and, um, I think I’d know how to connect with her.”

Fatin nods, and Shelby finds it difficult to meet Fatin’s gaze again. After a long pause, Fatin murmurs, “Thank you.”

“Of course. You don’t have to do this alone. Either of you,” Shelby says, stumbling over her words. She reaches over to grasp onto Fatin’s knee, intending for the action to be brief, but Fatin drops her hand over Shelby’s, traps it there.

“I’ll let you know if I can’t handle shit,” Fatin says.

“Okay. Okay, good.”

“But,” Fatin says sharply, “only if you’re going to do the same. I mean, I don’t feel like shit is going to blow up between you and Shalifoe, but if things go bad…you know what I’m saying.”

“Yep. Sure do,” Shelby says. She clears her throat, manages a thin smile, and gently slips her hand free. She pushes herself to her feet, brushes sand off her ass and legs, and thanks God that Nora starts waking up. Shelby knows Fatin’s eyes linger on her as she returns to where she’d slept beside Toni, to where Toni’s still asleep, but she feels better as she sits between Toni and Martha, feels like a weight has lifted off her chest. Fatin goes to swap out the empty water bottle that she’d accidentally dumped into the sand with a full one as Nora gets up to check on Rachel’s bandaged arm. Fatin takes a full bottle and snags a pair of her sunglasses then goes to sit next to Leah.

“Morning, Nora,” Shelby says softly.

“Good morning,” Nora replies.

“Ugh, don’t say good morning. I can already tell it’s going to be hot as balls today,” Fatin complains. Fatin’s voice seems to be enough to cause Leah to stir, and she grunts, reaching for Fatin before her eyes are even open. Fatin smiles and swats Leah’s hand away from her. “Wake up faster,” Fatin says, pushing at Leah’s shoulder. “We’re on water duty today, baby, and it’s gonna be hot as balls.”

“We don’t actually know for sure what the weather will be like,” Nora says quietly.

“It’s gonna be disgustingly hot,” Fatin insists. She keeps pushing at Leah’s shoulder until Leah finally opens her eyes, until Leah starts to sit up. “Hot, just like you,” Fatin teases, and Leah’s blue eyes roll, but Shelby swears she sees Leah’s lips curve upward, ever so slightly. “So get going! I want to be done before I’m sweating my ass off,” Fatin says.

Shelby glances over at Nora, but that kind of comment isn’t exactly unusual for Fatin to make, so if Nora’s reading into Fatin and Leah’s behavior more than before, she doesn’t show it. Doesn’t even look away from Rachel. Shelby really is the only person who caught on, and now that she thinks about it, Fatin has never been subtle about, well, almost anything, so it’s kind of strange that Shelby didn’t see it sooner.

The joke’s on Shelby, though. Now that she’s seen it, she can’t unsee it. She’s the only person that witnesses Fatin playfully pat Leah’s butt as they disappear into the forest, and Shelby knows the PDA will only get worse from here. Since she promised to stay quiet, Shelby makes a silent bet with herself. She bets Fatin and Leah will keep a lid on their developing thing for a week, maximum. There’s no way everyone won’t notice, because there’s no way Fatin can keep it in her pants for very long.

*

[Dot]

She writes the idea off as delusional until day forty four, and then Dot knows without a shadow of a doubt that Fatin is – at the very least – fucking Leah. Dot doesn’t have to ask. She just knows. From night forty three into day forty four, something substantial about Fatin shifts, and Dot immediately knows the only explanation is that Fatin finally got her orgasm. And it wasn’t from Dot. Dot is ninety nine percent sure it wasn’t from Toni or Shelby – they’re that gross couple that everyone tries to avoid, and Dot doesn’t think either of them would cheat that fast, if at all.

So Dot turns her attention to the remaining group members. Dot is positive that Martha is straight, so she doesn’t give that much thought at all. Though Rachel’s arm is healing pretty well, all things considered, Dot is still fairly certain there’s no way in hell Rachel would even think about sleeping with Fatin. That’s under normal circumstances, so it definitely wouldn’t happen a couple weeks after she lost a hand. That leaves Nora and Leah, and between the two of them, Leah’s simply the more likely candidate. Ever since Leah went on her rant about Nora spying on them and trapping her in a pit, Fatin has kept her distance from Nora, too. And Leah is from home, and Fatin has been spending more and more time around Leah, and – the pieces all just fit together very nicely.

Too nicely.

On day forty four, Dot is confident that she’s right – at least about the orgasm from Leah part – so she goes to find Fatin when she’s alone. Because even though Dot is positive that she’s correct, she still likes to hear that she’s right. Especially from Fatin.

“Dude,” Dot says, watching as Fatin jumps and splashes – thankfully cooled – water onto her chest.

“Dorothy!”

“What? I announced my presence,” Dot says. She doesn’t give Fatin a chance to fire off any zingers, quickly says, “We need to talk.”

Fatin sighs, rubs at the water on her chest, bared by her bikini top. “What now?”

“What – since when do you not want to talk to me?” Dot teases.

“Right, sorry, I’m just…tired.”

“Hmm, actually that’s what I wanted to talk about. You’re fucking Leah.”

Fatin chokes – on nothing, and now Dot really knows she’s right. Dot does her best not to smirk, decides not to rub it in while Fatin stammers. After a few moments of wordless stuttering, Fatin sets the water bottle down, grabs Dot by the elbow, and drags her farther away from everyone else even though they’re already out of earshot.

“Did Shelby tell you?” Fatin hisses.

Dot’s eyebrows pull together. “What? No – wait, Shelby knows but you didn’t tell me?”

“Not the point. How did you find out?”

“It’s obvious,” Dot scoffs. “You’re acting like you had your brains fucked out, and the only logical conclusion I could draw was that you fucked Leah. Or Leah fucked you. Or both.”

“It’s both,” Fatin confirms. “But you can’t – please, Dorothy, do not say anything to the others.”

“How have they not noticed?” Dot asks incredulously. “Like, Jesus, you’re practically throwing it in our faces.”

Fatin shrugs. “Only Shelby has known that anything was up, and we only fucked for the first time last night, so please –”

“Dude, I’m not gonna sell you out,” Dot promises. “I just wanted to know I was right.” Dot pauses. “And shit, I’m a little bummed you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“I wanted to!” Fatin insists. “But I promised Leah I’d keep quiet. You know how shit gets sometimes.”

Dark is the word Fatin always uses to describe some of Leah’s moods, and Dot only sort of understands what that means, sometimes. When it’s really bad for Leah; when it’s so bad, it’s impossible not to notice. Fatin’s still way more in tune with Leah’s moods – even when Leah’s been acting like a fucking robot – than Dot could ever hope to be.

“Yeah, man, you know I won’t say anything,” Dot says. She watches Fatin relax before Dot holds up her hand. Fatin stares at her blankly for a second before Dot says, “Come on, Fatin, you know what a high five is, right? Or do those not exist out in California?”

Fatin swiftly smacks her palm into Dot’s, hard, and snickers as Dot winces and shakes her hand out. Shouldn’t have taunted Fatin; Dot practically asked for a stinging palm.

“You know, there’s no reason for you to be jealous,” Fatin says.

“Oh, please,” Dot snorts. “I am not jealous of you and Leah. Trust me.” Displeasure courses through Dot as she catches sight of that glint in Fatin’s eye. “Dude, I love you, but do us both a favor and keep your hands and mouth away from me.”

Suddenly, Fatin throws herself at Dot, and Dot tenses up instinctively, thinks for half a second that Fatin’s honestly going to kiss her. But Fatin’s arms just lock around Dot’s neck. Dot’s eyes widen, and she barely manages to get her arms around Fatin’s waist. They’ve hugged before. It’s not a weird thing. Except, yeah, it’s kind of weird. Dot still kind of isn’t used to being hugged, still isn’t used to how touchy-feely Fatin always is, even after they’ve spent forty four days together.

“What’s this about?” Dot says. Fatin’s shoulder muffles her voice, since Dot really can’t pull away. Fatin’s grasp is too tight.

“You said you love me,” Fatin replies.

“No I didn’t.”

“Oh, you totally fucking did! You can’t stand here and deny it now. I’m only hugging you because you said it.” Fatin hesitates, and Dot waits, grimacing as her bare hand bumps against Fatin’s bare waist. “And if you say anything to the others, I will deny that I ever said this, but…I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dot says gruffly. Dot starts to take her arms back, hopes Fatin gets the hint and releases the chokehold she has on her. “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, how was it?”

“How was what?” Fatin asks. She does finally pull back, crosses her arms over her chest.

“Dude,” Dot says. “The sex. Obviously. What else would I be asking about?”

Fatin waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t feel like you need to ask me about it. I’m sure you don’t want to know.”

Dot sighs, rubs at her temples. “I asked because I wanted to give you an opportunity to tell your best friend about a major thing?”

Slowly, Fatin smiles. “So we love each other and now we’re best friends, too? Dorothy, is our relationship just gonna keep leveling up? That’s a little gay.”

“Okay, forget I asked.”

“No! Come on,” Fatin laughs, catching the sleeve of Dot’s jacket in her hand. Not that Dot was actually planning on walking away for real, but she allows Fatin to dramatically drag her back. Dot can’t hide her smile, can’t help but to laugh along with Fatin.

“Okay! Fine,” Dot concedes. She gets a kick out of messing with Fatin, just a little. “But I don’t want any dirty details.”

“Oh, you’re getting all the dirty details. And I didn’t even initiate it, okay? I know, hard to believe, but it’s true. I told her I was happy to go super slow, but Leah kissed me first. I mean, I’m a gentlewoman, so I was prepared to take care of her first, but – oh, don’t give me that look! I’m sparing you the dirtiest of the details.”

Dot knows for a fact that Fatin is absolutely not about to spare her any details, and though Dot grumbles about it and mockingly makes disgusted faces and cuts in to say yeah, I really didn’t need to know that much, Fatin – Dot still listens while Fatin walks her through the important highlights. Dot honestly doesn’t mind – not that she’d ever let Fatin know that. It’s a nice feeling, having someone she can legitimately call a best friend. Even if that best friend goes way too in depth about her sex life, but that just means Fatin trusts Dot as much as Dot trusts Fatin.

Dot makes another face, not because of what Fatin said, but because it’s a weird time to realize that Dot trusts Fatin possibly more than anyone else left alive.

“Come on! That wasn’t even that bad,” Fatin exclaims.

“It’s all bad, Fatin,” Dot replies, forcing her expression to return to something more neutral. “Now we’ve got two couples out here, getting it on.”

“Please, Leah and I are nowhere near as bad as Toni and Shelby.”

Well…Dot supposes that they’re gonna see about that.

*

[Nora]

She has no choice but to be more discreet now. Much more discreet. No more wandering off into the woods alone to talk to cameras implanted in trees. They understand – Gretchen and her team. They know that Nora can’t take any real risks now that Leah basically received confirmation that Nora is communicating with someone off-island. They get so lucky that Leah was drugged, and that’s the only thing that keeps everyone on the island from immediately believing Leah over Nora. Nora “admits” to them that she was in the woods, alone, talking to herself, not to a tree. Nora tells everyone that, in her drugged state, Leah just imagined that there was a camera, just imagined the words Nora spoke. They believed Nora, perhaps too easily.

Nora feels bad, about a lot of things. About convincing the others that Leah really is just losing her mind. About signing herself and Rachel up for this, about putting both of them in harm’s way. Rachel losing her hand is horrific, and Nora can’t help but to be pissed at Gretchen for not interfering, for not extracting Rachel, at least. But it also prevents Leah from spiraling any further – and from doing more than just accusing Nora of talking to trees and trapping her in a pit. When Leah emerges from the woods after clawing her way out of the pit, Nora’s mentally preparing to be attacked. The shark is the only reason it doesn’t happen. By the time Rachel’s injury is addressed, Leah doesn’t have the energy to physically fight, barely has the energy to explain to everyone how Nora trapped her. That isn’t even true, technically. Leah fell, and Nora points this out, and everyone else is so exhausted from saving Rachel that it kind of gets overlooked, goes unexamined. Everyone accepts Nora’s explanation and writes Leah off as delusional thanks to the drugs.

Nora can’t understand why Leah doesn’t press the issue later on, though. Nora can’t understand why, instead of fighting for herself, instead of working to convince the others that she knows she’s right with one hundred percent certainty this time, Leah goes silent. She doesn’t have any more outbursts. She barely shows any emotion at all around the group, ever since they stabilized Rachel and treated her injury to the best of their ability. Gretchen’s team didn’t drop any additional supplies, likely to prevent Leah from flipping out about magically appearing bags again, but Nora still scours the beach every day for any signs of, well, anything useful. Nora falls into a routine. She checks on Rachel, even as Rachel steadily heals while the days pass on by, even as Gretchen reassures her over and over that they’re closely monitoring Rachel’s condition, and she wanders around the beach in search of supplies she knows won’t be there, and she writes in her journal in places she knows Gretchen will be able to spot her on camera.

Nora gets a text in the middle of night twenty five after she’d written in her journal, hours before, LEAH STOPPED ASKING QUESTIONS? The text reads:

WATCH HER MORE CLOSELY THAN EVER

So what choice does Nora have? For all she knows, Leah’s still spewing all her theories – which, as crazy as they sound, are actually fairly close to the truth, so of course Nora has to encourage everyone else to think they’re crazy. Maybe Leah’s only talking to Fatin now. That’s what seems to happen after Rachel’s injury. Leah retreats from the rest of the group, sticks close to Fatin, so it’s not unreasonable to think she’s telling Fatin everything she thinks she knows – and maybe Fatin believes her.

That’s the scary part. Monitoring Leah is hard enough. The last thing Nora needs is a directive to watch Fatin like a hawk, too. Nora keeps the idea in mind as the days pass, as Rachel shows no signs of infection, as Toni and Shelby prance around, blissfully unaware of their reality, as Dot struggles to hold them together as a group, as Martha slips further and further away from her optimistic outlook. Even though Gretchen doesn’t send Nora a warning about Fatin’s possible awareness of their situation, Nora keeps an eye on it. She has no choice. With Jeanette gone, it’s all on her to keep the experiment running smoothly.

It helps that Fatin seems to think Nora is harmless, even after supposedly trapping Leah in a pit. The way Fatin interacts with Nora after the shark incident, after the pit, after Leah shuts down, does not change. Fatin is Fatin, and if Leah has convinced her that they’re being watched – Nora is pretty sure Fatin would’ve said something about it to the rest of them. Nora is pretty sure Fatin would’ve stood up for Leah. At least Nora doesn’t have to worry about the possibility of physical violence from Fatin. As they inch toward day fifty, Nora becomes less concerned about the possibility of physical violence from Leah, too. She has seriously backed off – from everything, not just from her theories. She’s backed off from accusing Nora of having knowledge about their situation, or of being a spy. Leah has backed off from doing anything more than her assigned duties each day. If she’s not working, she’s either sleeping or off somewhere with Fatin.

I THINK SOMETHING IS UP WITH LEAH AND FATIN

Nora shifts her journal to the side, waits a few moments, then returns to a previous sketch of Martha, works on adding detail. Two nights ago, she’d written something similar, but about Martha. I THINK SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH MARTHA. She got the expected response.

WATCH HER AND REPORT BACK WITH ANY CHANGES

It’s hard to write something like I think she might be depressed. It’s hard to receive responses that read as indifferent from Gretchen or her team – whoever Nora happens to be communicating with. It’s hard to watch Martha reacting to their situation in the same way as Leah. It’s hard to watch the shark attack bring them all together for a few days just to watch the group fracture anyway, just to hear nothing helpful from Gretchen. So on day forty eight, Nora writes I THINK SOMETHING IS UP WITH LEAH AND FATIN and expects to hear nothing useful that night. She receives a two word text at precisely two in the morning.

WE KNOW

Nora stares at the phone in her hand, eyebrows pulling together. It takes her a moment to compose a response.

Do I need to do anything about it?

Whoever is on the other end of the phone replies within seconds.

NO

Nora waits a few more minutes, but nothing else comes through, so she returns to camp. She returns to her spot next to Rachel after ensuring that everyone else hasn’t woken up. Toni and Shelby sleep tangled together. Martha’s asleep the farthest away from the group, and Nora wonders how Toni hasn’t expressed more concern about what’s happening with Martha. Nora just hopes Toni or Shelby or someone is on top of that. Dot’s asleep on the other side of Rachel, exactly where she’s slept every night since Rachel first lost her hand. On the other side of Dot, Leah and Fatin are asleep, Fatin behind Leah, arm flung around Leah’s waist. It’s Nora’s job out here to notice things, and Leah and Fatin have never slept like that before, almost mimicking Toni and Shelby.

So Nora notices it, and she glances toward the woods, toward where she knows there are cameras. Gretchen knows something is going on between them, with the most obvious conclusion to draw being that they followed in Toni and Shelby’s footsteps and got together. Somehow, the idea that Gretchen is aware of their relationships, that Gretchen is documenting their relationships, doesn’t sit right with Nora.

Nora settles back in beside Rachel and finds herself unable to sleep. The more time that passes, the more Nora feels a lingering sense of discomfort about how they’re all being constantly surveilled, about how she’s the only one who truly knows it, even if Leah’s convinced she’s right, even if Leah has managed to convince Fatin, even if everyone else has considered it – briefly, before dismissing the idea – as a possibility. When Nora looks at Rachel, she wonders how Rachel will handle the knowledge that Nora got them involved in this experiment. Nora wonders how she could’ve ever thought this would help them. Her relationship with Rachel is better than ever right now, but Nora knows, deep down, once Rachel learns the truth – it’ll all be ripped apart again.

Nora looks at the others and wonders whose relationships will be torn apart by the end of the experiment, wonders which ones will outlast the entire ordeal. Nora has time to prepare herself to lose her relationship with her sister for the rest of their lives, but no one else has that luxury. If Nora is right about Fatin and Leah’s relationship evolving into something other than friendship, will they return to their home together and stay in each other’s lives? Will Toni and Shelby return back to their homes and build a life together? Or will those relationships crumble?

The real question is: are any of them going to leave this place unscathed? When Nora wakes up at the crack of dawn to find that Fatin has already been awake – for the ninth day in a row – before Nora, when Nora notices the way Fatin won’t leave Leah’s side, even after Leah wakes up, when Nora notices how Dot has to talk Martha into eating that night, when Nora notices Toni and Shelby can’t see past each other, when Nora changes the bandages on Rachel’s arm while Rachel cracks a joke while gritting her teeth against the pain –

She’s afraid the answer might be no.

*

[Martha]

On day fifty six, Dot decides to mix up the job assignments. Just for fun. The last two weeks, Toni and Shelby have been on food every day, and Leah and Fatin have been on water, and the four of them have passed up on their rest days. Well, without Rachel in the rotation anymore, there really isn’t time for rest days. With Rachel sitting out, Martha has been alternating between fire and wood duty with Dot while Nora has been on constant Rachel duty. It works, but on day fifty six, Dot rearranges the assignments and gives no one a chance to argue. Unsurprisingly, Dot places herself on food duty with Fatin, but she splits Toni and Shelby between fire and wood duty, leaving Nora with Rachel and Martha on water with…Leah.

Martha can’t remember the last word Leah spoke to her. It’s been weeks, probably. Frankly, Martha also can’t remember the last word she spoke to Leah, so maybe they’re even. She’s kinda sad to give up fire duty, though, even if it’s just for a day. Fire duty is easy. She just lies in the sand and prods at it with a stick, occasionally adds wood. It’s a low energy kind of job. Water duty means a hike through the woods, means hauling back full water bottles and boiling it and waiting for it to cool off. Water duty means Martha has to spend extended periods of time in awkward silence with Leah, on top of the guaranteed physical exertion. Maybe Martha should be grateful that Dot forced her to eat dinner last night, after all.

“Dorothy, you can just tell everyone you fucked up our system because you miss me so much,” Fatin jokes. Dot rolls her eyes and denies it, claiming they need – as Nora puts it – “less monotony” in their days. Toni complains about being split up from Shelby, even if fire and wood duty kind of go hand in hand. If Martha wasn’t so tired – if she hasn’t felt so tired since at least day twenty three, maybe even before then – she would be at least a little peeved about Toni spending so much time with Shelby. It’s not like when Toni was spending all her time with Regan. At least then they saw each other all the time at school. Now they’re trapped on an island, and there’s too much time to think, and Toni keeps running off to be alone with Shelby, and even though Martha is always surrounded by people –

She feels alone.

She’s getting used to it, though, so she wants to get this trip to the waterfall over as fast as possible. She’s lucky it’s Leah, probably. As awkward as it might be, Leah probably won’t be dying to carry a conversation, and neither is Martha. So when Dot and Fatin go to hunt for food, Martha gathers all their containers and dumps them into two pink retreat bags, handing one off to Leah. Leah, in spite of sleeping at least twelve hours a night, still looks worn out. Martha isn’t sure how Leah makes the trek to the waterfall with Fatin every day without collapsing.

“Let’s get this over with,” Leah mutters. She leads the way, mostly because she’s been making this trip for two weeks straight and knows the route like the back of her hand now. Martha expects Leah to walk too fast, expects to have to rush to keep up, but Leah acts like they’re on a leisurely stroll. Leah doesn’t strike up a conversation, so neither does Martha. Martha tries to enjoy being surrounded by nature, tries to enjoy the sounds of wildlife and the gentle breeze and the shade that the trees provide them with, but hearing nearby wildlife just reminds Martha of bringing a rock down on her goat’s head, reminds her of spending days wearing dried blood – first the goat’s and then Rachel’s – because she refused to wash it off. Because she couldn’t bring herself to wash it off.

Being alone with Leah isn’t ideal, not only because neither of them have been interested in talking or doing much lately, but because Martha has come to realize maybe they have more in common than she’d like, even if Leah doesn’t know it. Martha has come to realize that the book Leah burned back at the end of their first week on the island, the book filled with little notes that Martha had thought were romantic, was her first clue that they might understand each other better than they’d think. Even before Martha overheard Fatin and Dot a few nights ago – because she couldn’t figure out how to let them know she was awake before it was too late – discussing the author, discussing Fatin’s concerns about what he might’ve done to Leah.

So for the last few nights, every time Martha has closed her eyes, she’s seen Dr. Ted in addition to the poor goat that she snuffed the life out of.

“We’re almost there,” Leah calls over her shoulder.

“Okay,” Martha replies. She has to clear her throat after her voice comes out scratchy from a lack of use. Martha can’t even enjoy the beauty of the waterfall, because it reminds her of the day Fatin went missing, and it reminds her of the way Leah’s desperation steadily increased, and it reminds her that – once Fatin and Dot’s conversation a few nights back turned away from that author – Martha heard something that wasn’t meant for her ears.

I really like her and I don’t think she believes me when I say it.

Dot said, “I’m sure she knows,” and Fatin insisted, “No, I really think she thinks I’m only acting like I like her to get into her pants, and now that we’ve slept together, I think she thinks I don’t care,” and Dot scoffed, “I’m sure she knows, Fatin. She’s very observant,” and Fatin hissed, “No, I seriously think she doesn’t know.”

Martha stands beside Leah, overlooking the waterfall, for a few moments before Leah starts heading down toward the water, and Martha follows. Fatin had said like, but maybe she meant love, the way Toni had – after a week of being with Shelby – confessed to Martha that even though she knows it’s super early, she feels like she loves Shelby. Martha blamed it on their current situation, and that seemed to calm Toni down, but they haven’t had a conversation like that in weeks. Martha hasn’t had a conversation about love even just in general with either Fatin or Leah since the first couple weeks. It’s not her place to butt in when she hasn’t been asked to, but she hates that she knows two things about Leah – the situation with Jeff and the existence of her thing with Fatin – that she probably shouldn’t know, and she hates that, since the shark attack, Leah has given up almost the same way that Martha has.

“Is that all of them?” Leah asks as she caps the last bottle and drops it back into one of the bags.

“Yeah,” Martha says quietly. She accidentally meets Leah’s gaze, finds herself staring into dull blue eyes before Leah holds one of the two bags out to her. Martha takes it quickly and looks away, back toward the water. The sound of rushing water would be comforting under different circumstances. Martha and her family had visited Niagara Falls a couple years back, and she loved listening to the water, found it soothing. Now it’s too loud. It’s providing her with a poor excuse not to try to talk to Leah before they start heading back to the beach.

Martha doesn’t want to feel like she needs to confess what she knows to Leah. She definitely doesn’t want to bring it up, but she feels like she needs to, and this might be her only chance. She might not get another opportunity to be alone with Leah again.

“Hey, I think I need to tell you something,” Martha says as Leah starts to lead them back onto the path. For a second, Martha thinks Leah’s going to keep walking and not even acknowledge her, but after a moment, Leah sighs and turns back, waits. She doesn’t say anything. Her expression doesn’t change from its typical blank look. She just waits. Martha sees no point in sugar coating it, then. They haven’t exactly been wasting words recently. “I know you and Fatin have…something going on,” Martha says. She watches Leah’s face for some kind of a change, a hint of any emotion, but nothing happens.

“She told you?” Leah questions. Her face may not change, but her voice is strained – and Martha doubts it’s from a lack of use. It seems like Leah does plenty of talking with Fatin. Does more than just talking, apparently.

“No,” Martha says. “I just – I overheard something.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not going to say anything,” Martha says. “I just – it didn’t feel right to know something I shouldn’t and not let you know.”

Leah nods, and Martha hesitates, but she already knows she won’t be bringing up that book or what was written in it, already knows she won’t try to pull the hey, we’re not so different card with Leah. Not now and probably not ever. The fact that Martha knows there’s something between Leah and Fatin – and that the two of them might not be on the same page – is bad enough.

“Well, thanks for telling me, I guess,” Leah mutters. “Let’s head back.”

They don’t make it far along the path before Martha finds herself talking again, even though she’s telling herself she doesn’t want to get involved in their business. “She really likes you,” Martha informs. “I know it’s not really my place to say that, but…”

“We aren’t Toni and Shelby,” Leah says abruptly. She walks a little faster. “It’s not – we aren’t in a whole relationship.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“I heard what Fatin said,” Martha says, and she knows she shouldn’t be meddling, especially not in this. She doesn’t want to admit to herself that she isn’t doing it for purely altruistic reasons, doesn’t want to admit that making Leah and Fatin’s business her own – even just for right now – distracts her from all of the other thoughts she doesn’t want to handle.

“And what would that be?”

“That she likes you and thinks you don’t know it.”

Leah stops walking, and Martha narrowly avoids colliding with her before Leah spins around and questions, “And why do you care?”

Martha’s eyebrows raise, and her jaw hangs open while she struggles to come up with an acceptable, with a reasonable, response. Most likely she’ll apologize and back down, but Leah’s eyes widen, and she winces before she starts backtracking.

“Martha, I’m sorry,” Leah says. She rubs at her eyebrow, squeezes her eyes shut, and now it’s Martha’s turn to wait. “You’re just trying to help, and I’m being a dick to you. It’s just – things are complicated.”

“Yeah, they must be,” Martha agrees. “You barely talk anymore.”

A smile flickers on Leah’s face before she says softly, “That’s funny, coming from you.”

Martha almost smiles, too. “I’m just tired,” Martha says, and it’s only a half lie.

“Me too.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, and Martha waits for Leah to elaborate. Martha still waits for Leah to say something about the island or about Nora being a spy, even though Leah hasn’t talked about anything remotely close to that since the aftermath of the shark incident. But Leah turns around and starts walking again, and Martha follows. It feels like the brief spike of tension around them dissipates.

Right before they step onto the beach, Martha says, “I know you didn’t ask, but I think Fatin would be a real upgrade.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Leah asks.

Martha hesitates. “I just mean…compared to your last relationship. I think Fatin would be a real upgrade from…that.”

Leah presses her lips together then slowly, she nods. “Yeah,” Leah agrees. She pauses, seems to consider saying something more, but she just says, “Let’s go get the water boiled.”

Martha expects that to be the end of the conversation, at least about any topic outside of boiling water. Dot and Fatin are nowhere in sight. Nora and Rachel are standing in ankle deep water in the ocean, Rachel cradling her arm against her chest. Toni, supposed to be on fire duty, is napping next to the fire instead. Shelby arrives to dump an armful of wood at camp then heads back off with the axe, shaking her head at Toni while she sleeps. Shelby flashes Martha a smile, and Martha manages to return it, but Martha’s eyes fall to the axe in Shelby’s hand, and she thinks of the blood, of the lifeless look in the goat’s eyes, of how good it felt to come back from the brink of starvation only for that feeling to be overshadowed by the guilt, and her smile slides.

“You’re sure about what you heard?” Leah asks.

Martha startles out of her thoughts, swallows hard. “What?”

“You’re sure you heard Fatin say – she likes me.”

“Oh,” Martha says. “I’m sure, Leah. And, um, she thinks you don’t know that she likes you. So I guess she was right.”

To Martha’s surprise, Leah smiles. For real. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” Leah admits. “And, you know, the last time I was in a relationship…things went bad. Things were bad.”

“I don’t think anything can go as badly as what happened to you before,” Martha says quietly.

“You’re probably right.”

They finish boiling the water and set the containers aside to cool down. Toni snores, so Leah pokes at the flames in her place. With their job done, Leah gets to her feet, brushes sand from her legs. Martha doesn’t consider the possibility that Leah won’t just walk away, but although Leah stands, she stays. At least until Martha looks up at her.

“You know,” Leah says, rubbing at the back of her neck, “Fatin and I go for walks along the beach, or in the woods, sometimes. I know you, uh, stick close to the fire a lot, but if you wanted to come with us…I don’t think Fatin would mind.”

Martha rolls her eyes, teases, “You want me to intrude on the only time you two get alone?”

Leah shrugs. “I mean, we’re usually just walking and talking. You wouldn’t be intruding. Maybe just…think about it.”

Leah walks away, and Martha thinks about how this is the most they’ve spoken in literal weeks. Leah – Leah, who hasn’t been talking to anyone apart from Fatin – invited her to join the romantic walks on the beach that Leah’s been taking with Fatin. It feels like a joke. It feels like they’ve been transported back to the second week, to that brief period of time where everything ran smoothly and everyone got along.

Martha picks up the fire stick and pokes Toni in the ass with it until she wakes up.

“Marty, Jesus,” Toni complains. “I didn’t sleep last night. Let me nap before Dot comes back and makes me do more shit.”

Martha drops the stick next to Toni’s arm. “Fire duty is the easiest job,” she says. “The least you can do is stay awake for it.”

Toni stares at her warily for a moment before sitting up and asking, “So how was water duty with Rilke?”

“Fine,” Martha says. She pauses before gently joking, “So you can’t handle even the easiest job when Shelby isn’t glued to your side? Remember when you were accusing me of being too attached to her?”

Toni rolls her eyes, fights off a smile. “Hey, I know I haven’t been around as much, but…you’re still my number one. You know that, right?”

“Yes, Toni,” Martha says. And she does know, but it’s still nice to hear.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time on fire duty,” Toni points out. She jabs at the fire, stares at the flames instead of at Martha. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

Martha can’t lie to her, so she just says, “I don’t know what’s been happening.”

“Well, we should talk about it,” Toni says.

Martha feels like they haven’t talked – like actually talked – in weeks. Maybe they haven’t. Martha agrees, expecting nothing to come of it, expecting Toni to completely forget once she’s back at Shelby’s side. They eat dinner as a group, and afterward, Martha intrudes on Leah and Fatin’s walk along the beach. Except it really doesn’t feel like an intrusion, and it’s weird to see Leah speak so animatedly, weird to hear her laugh, and it’s weird to see Fatin act nervous. It’s weird to see them both happy, and it’s even weirder to hear Fatin say that she should join them more often, that it was fun.

It’d be rude to say no. It’d also be rude of them to make her feel like part of a group again. And it’d be rude to tell Toni she doesn’t want to talk after the sun sets when Toni quickly peels away from Shelby and seeks her out when she returns with Leah and Fatin.

On day fifty seven, Toni tells Dot to put her and Martha on food duty. On day fifty seven, Toni reassures Martha that she killed that goat to save them all, that they all make mistakes, that they can always do better in the future. On day fifty seven, that pervasive feeling of loneliness starts to fade.

*

[Toni]

She’s late to the game, which is so fucking embarrassing. Even if Toni blames her sudden inability to see gay shit happening right under her nose on the fact that she’s in a budding relationship of her own, it’s still embarrassing. It is right there, practically smacking her in the face, and it takes Toni sixty three fucking days to see it. And that’s not even what really happens. It’s not like she catches onto some subtle clues. No, she overhears them fucking while she’s out taking a piss, and she knows it’s them because Leah and Fatin are the only two away from camp.

Back on day twenty seven, Shelby announced to the group that they were dating – and that was the word she used because it was easier than explaining we’re fucking and there are feelings but it’s new and fragile. Toni knows so much of her time is consumed by Shelby and by their relationship, but that’s a piss poor excuse for overlooking the fact that Fatin’s been fucking Leah for weeks. It’s bad enough that Shelby had to tell Toni that something was up with Martha; it’s bad enough that Toni didn’t notice it for herself, or refused to acknowledge it because she’s still mad about old shit, or whatever the fuck happened there. It’s bad enough that Martha starts to merge into Leah and Fatin and Dot’s little subgroup, and it’s bad enough that it’s entirely Toni’s fault.

But she definitely shouldn’t have missed two other people on the island running off to fuck. Spotting queer shit is practically Toni’s thing, especially out here where there isn’t much entertainment. It’s like she’s fucking oblivious to it all until day sixty three, though, and when Toni asks Martha if she knew something was up between Leah and Fatin, Martha just shrugs and mumbles something about how it was none of her business, which is a definite yes, so she knew and didn’t bother to fill Toni in. So Toni asks Shelby if she knew, and Shelby hems and haws before admitting that, yes, she knew, too. Back on day thirty six. Literally a month ago, and Shelby never said anything, either.

“I thought you figured it out,” Shelby says in her defense when Toni brings it up as they’re collecting lychees. “You always bragged about how great your gaydar is, and their stuff was none of my business anyway.”

“Well, I’ve been a little busy,” Toni replies. She grins at Shelby before she says, “I wonder why.”

“You do not get to blame me for the fact that you could not see all the…” Shelby pauses to wave her hand around, “gay happening between Leah and Fatin.”

Toni laughs then says, “If anyone asks, I’ve known since the beginning.”

“Okay, I honestly thought you knew,” Shelby says. “Or just didn’t care.”

“What? Of course I care! If gay shit happens, I want to know about it.” Toni pauses, stares down into the pink sack full of lychees before slinging it across her back. “I’m just surprised neither of them have said anything.”

“You mean to you or in general?” Shelby questions.

“Both. I’m the only one who showed up here looking and acting like a whole lesbian – except for maybe Dot – so I would’ve thought Fatin at least would’ve said something.”

“To you.”

“Yeah, to me,” Toni says. “How’d she keep it to herself?”

Shelby shrugs, starts leading the way back. “She didn’t.”

“Right, she told you and Dot and Martha before me, apparently.”

“Well actually, I asked her, and she told Dot, and I think Martha found out from Leah?”

“I mean, it doesn’t really matter how it went down,” Toni grumbles. “What matters is how fucking oblivious I’ve been about everything for the last month.” When Shelby grimaces, Toni quickly adds, “That’s not – I mean, it’s my fault.”

“I think it’s kind of my fault, too.”

They don’t talk about how Martha’s mood has steadily improved in the last week compared to the few weeks before that, when Toni was just assuming Martha hit a rough patch and would find a way out of it, would come to her if she needed help. They don’t talk about the way Leah still only talks to Fatin and sometimes Martha, sometimes Dot. They don’t talk about how Rachel’s attitude has done a 180 since she lost her hand, since she came closer than all of them to staring death in the face. They don’t talk about how Nora has been acting stranger than was normal for her since Leah accused her of being a spy. They don’t talk about their nagging suspicion that something’s up with this place, that Leah’s theories – theories she hasn’t mentioned since the fourth week – might not be entirely baseless. And all they do now – well, apart from having sex – is talk, but they can’t talk about these things, because, well, they’ve only half-noticed them. The same way Toni only half-noticed Fatin being extra handsy and flirty with Leah and wrote it off as just Fatin being Fatin.

“All this time we’ve been spending together,” Toni says slowly. She pauses to hold a branch out of the way for Shelby, waits until Shelby continues along the path they’d marked to the lychee tree before continuing. “Is it – it’s not bad, obviously, but I’ve kind of been missing out on what’s happening with everyone else because I’ve been trying to spend as much time as possible with you. That’s – well, I want to be with you as much as possible, but it can’t be good that I’ve been acting like we’re the only two out here. Shit, Fatin’s been eye-fucking Leah every second of every day, and I only noticed after I overheard them fucking, but all the signs were right in front of me.”

“Yeah, maybe forget that you caught them,” Shelby suggests. “Unless you want Fatin propositioning you for threesomes for the rest of eternity.”

A smile flickers on Toni’s face before she rolls her eyes and says, “You know I’d say no. Not even because we’re together but just because it’s Fatin.”

“Oh, come on. Fatin’s not that bad.”

Toni gasps loudly, jokes, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? Do you have a thing for Fatin?”

“Gosh, no!” Shelby laughs. She pushes at Toni’s arm as Toni snickers, watching the way Shelby’s face heats up. “I’m just saying, she’s not a bad person.”

“No, you’re saying your type is totally girls with dark hair and dark eyes with a tiny bit of a temper in stressful situations.”

“That’s very self-aware of you, Toni,” Shelby replies. A smile stays on Shelby’s face as she takes Toni’s hand, links their fingers together. Toni realizes they’re doing it again. Avoiding talking about all the shit going on with everyone else that they’re stuck on this island with. Making a joke out of it. It’s easier to laugh, sure. It’s easier to pretend like it’s just the two of them building their relationship while everyone else is doing their own thing without any trouble. It’s easy to pretend nothing’s wrong when you’ve got something good to focus on.

“It’s not good, though,” Toni says. “The way we’ve been missing things. Or missing out on things. Group activities or whatever.”

“Depends on if we’ve just missed things or if we’re ignoring them,” Shelby says softly.

“I’m not – I wouldn’t ignore – I thought Martha would tell me if shit got bad, and it’s not like I’m close with anyone else –”

“So you didn’t notice that Leah and Fatin were fucking,” Shelby interrupts gently, “and you made a miscalculation about Martha’s mindset. I think you’re being too hard on yourself.”

Except Toni knows she isn’t being too hard on herself. Still, she smiles at Shelby, squeezes her hand, and stops complaining about how she didn’t know that Leah and Fatin have been fucking for the last month. It seems like a small thing, and it’s not like Toni really gives a shit about who’s fucking who, but she still feels like she should’ve been able to see it coming. God, it’s like she got with Shelby and immediately checked out of everything else happening on the island. Maybe she let herself be blinded, because she needed something good to focus on, and once she got that – well, after crashing into the ocean and after a lifetime’s worth of bad shit, Toni figured she deserved something good. And she figured everyone else would be able to handle their shit or at least say that they can’t handle it on their own.

She can’t blame Martha, and she can’t blame Leah or Fatin for reaching out to Martha first. She can only blame herself for –

“Since when are you so quiet?” Shelby asks. She sends a concerned look Toni’s way, softens it by smiling and adding, “Usually you’ve got lots to say on our walks back.”

“Just – Leah and Fatin?” Toni says. “Does that make any kind of sense to you?”

“You’re still thinking about that?” Shelby chuckles.

“Yes, actually, I am.”

“Okay, well, do we –” Shelby motions between them with their clasped hands, “make any kind of sense to you?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t tell me that back during the second week, we would’ve made sense. Everyone was surprised that we got together. Well, everyone but Fatin, so maybe that’s why I saw it first.”

“Saw what first?”

“Her thing for Leah,” Shelby replies. “I don’t know how she did it, but Fatin figured out right away that you and I were – that I had feelings for you. Then I caught onto her before anyone else.”

“Before Dot?” Toni scoffs.

“Somehow…yes.”

“I don’t know. I still don’t see it,” Toni says. “All Fatin’s talked about since we got here is jumping on dicks.”

“You haven’t noticed how that stopped?”

“What? It hasn’t stopped. At least half the words out of her mouth are still about sex.”

“But not about, um, jumping on…dicks.”

Toni smirks as Shelby’s cheeks redden. Toni almost makes a crack about how Shelby still blushes when they talk about sex in spite of everything they’ve done but decides against it. Toni hums then says, “She’s not exactly talking about jumping on Leah, though, is she?”

“Well, no.”

“I should’ve known from day one that Fatin wouldn’t last out here,” Toni says. “I should’ve known she’d get an orgasm before we got out of here. I kind of thought Dot would be the one to break first, though.”

Shelby busts out laughing, shakes her head. “Look, I know Dottie wears cargo pants, but I really think she’s straight.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna see about that.”

They step onto the beach, hand in hand, and drop off the retreat bags full of lychees at camp. Martha and Rachel are in the middle of an intense game of Uno. Nora watches them warily, and if her eyes aren’t on Rachel’s face, then they’re on her bandaged arm. Dot’s splitting wood with the axe, pauses when Toni and Shelby return just long enough to wipe at the sweat beading on her forehead with the bottom of her shirt. Leah and Fatin beat them back, though to be fair, the trip to the waterfall is shorter than a trip to the lychee tree. Fatin sits with her legs stretched out in front of her, leaning back on her hands, with Leah’s head resting in her lap.

“So happy you two could join us,” Fatin calls. She motions toward their clasped hands, says, “We all know what was going on out there.”

“You’re one to talk, Fatin,” Toni scoffs.

Shelby squeezes her hand – hard – as a warning, so Toni doesn’t elaborate. She feels Fatin’s eyes following her as she releases Shelby’s hand, as she drops to the sand next to Martha to intrude on the game of Uno.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fatin questions.

“She doesn’t mean anything by that,” Shelby says.

“No, she did,” Fatin says. “She’s just afraid to say it to my face.”

“Fatin. Don’t start,” Leah says quietly – but not so quietly that Toni can’t hear.

“Uno,” Martha says softly.

“I think someone wants your attention, Toni,” Rachel points out.

Toni rolls her eyes. She twists herself around to look at Fatin as she says, “I’m just saying, you’re one to talk about what me and Shelby are doing out in the woods when I caught you doing the exact same shit.”

Fatin’s eyebrows raise. Leah winces, turns her face so it presses against Fatin’s thigh. Dot stops with the axe raised over her head. Nora’s eyes widen as both Shelby and Martha sigh, and Rachel coughs into her fist to prevent herself from laughing.

“Wait, wait,” Rachel interrupts. “What are you on, Toni?”

“No, fuck this,” Fatin says sharply. She seems like she wants to get up but stops herself when Leah doesn’t lift her head out of her lap. “You of all the people here should know better,” Fatin snaps. She glares at Toni then shakes her head, mutters something for only Leah to hear, and Leah says something back even quieter, her fingers curling against Fatin’s knee, and Fatin rolls her eyes but exhales heavily and seems to relent. “Okay, fine,” Fatin announces. “Leah and I are, like, a thing or whatever, and now you all know, but don’t make a big fucking deal of it, okay?”

The only person who seems genuinely surprised is Rachel, and she looks between Toni and Shelby over to Nora then to Leah and Fatin before she busts out laughing.

“Wait, seriously?” Rachel says. “You’re deadass? This isn’t a joke?”

“It’s not a joke,” Dot says firmly. She sets the axe down, glares at Toni the same exact way that Fatin had, and goes to sit with Fatin and Leah. Leah seems content to stay with her head in Fatin’s lap, doesn’t seem eager to run off, doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest even though Fatin has suddenly gotten all fidgety.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Shelby says quietly. “You couldn’t just let it go?”

Toni falters, finds herself unable to defend her actions as Rachel presses the subject, as the Uno game goes forgotten.

*

[Rachel]

She wants nothing more than to get away from Nora, even on an island full of strangers, up until she’s attacked. Then Nora practically refuses to leave her side, and Rachel has a hard time bringing herself to care that Nora’s glued to her. She almost died. Almost got ripped to shreds by a literal shark. Lost her hand and almost bled to death, would’ve bled to death if all the other girls hadn’t stepped up. Hell, she could still die if she develops an infection, if shit doesn’t heal right. Their sibling bullshit can wait until later, until they’re safely back home – though as time goes on, until becomes more like if they ever make it home.

Being attacked by a shark allows Rachel to start to repair, to start to rebuild, her relationship with Nora. It allows her to see Nora’s perspective, somehow. It gives Rachel more clarity than she’s ever had, maybe, as she spends those first few weeks after the attack doing nothing but lying around, usually drugged up as she attempts to heal. But when the drug haze clears, when everyone’s off doing their thing while Nora pretends like she isn’t lingering nearby in case anything goes wrong, Rachel has more than enough time to spend with her own thoughts, has more than enough time to analyze and reanalyze everything about her life up until this point.

And she eventually comes to the conclusion that she could’ve died – still might die – and she’s been acting like a real asshole to Nora, all because Nora…tried to help her. Because Nora cared about her and was worried about what she was doing to herself. And all she’s done is attack Nora for caring, for loving her, and if she’d died, she never would’ve gotten the chance to apologize, never would’ve gotten the chance to start fresh. So she does apologize, somewhere around the forty day mark, and she lets Nora help her and doesn’t complain, and she tries to help Nora, too, as best as she can. Usually they just sit and talk after sunset, and Rachel listens as Nora talks about her interests and what classes she wants to take when they get home – it’s always when during their conversations, never if – and Rachel even asks Nora to recount the plot of some of her favorite books, when she gets really bored.

They talk about Quinn one night. Night sixty something. Rachel’s lost count, and she doesn’t care enough to ask anyone. Nora will know, but Rachel still doesn’t ask. Kind of doesn’t want to know what day it is anymore. And Rachel knows what happened to Quinn, and that only serves to multiply her guilt by a thousand, and she realizes she never apologized for the way she reacted when she met him, when Nora sought her approval. She realizes she never had a good reason to deny Nora that piece of her happiness.

“I’m sorry,” Rachel says in the middle of night sixty something. She stares up at the stars, brighter than she’d ever seen them in New York, as she speaks, even as Nora stares down at her. “About, um, Quinn. And about how I acted. I – I judged him for no good reason when he seemed like a good guy, and he was good for you, and you liked him. I messed that up for you, and I’m sorry.”

Nora visibly swallows, and Rachel gives her the time to process her words, waits patiently for Nora to figure out what to say.

“Thank you,” Nora says softly. She pulls her legs to her chest and rests her chin on her knees and inhales deeply. “It’s not really your fault.”

“It is,” Rachel says. “You don’t have to forgive me, but I wanted you to know that I regret what I said. I know he made you happy, and I feel like I helped take that away from you.”

Nora doesn’t deny it, just shrugs her shoulders a little and stares out at the ocean with her chin still braced on her knees. “I can forgive you,” Nora says after a while. “But it won’t be fair of me to ask you for forgiveness.”

Rachel’s eyebrows pull together. She pushes herself upright with her hand, keeps her other arm firmly against her chest as she sits up. It hasn’t really bothered her much the last week or so. She’s getting used to it, and the pain isn’t nearly as extreme as it had been, even without any medication.

“What do you mean?” Rachel questions.

Nora presses her lips together into a thin smile and whispers, “You’ll know soon enough.”

“No, that’s – c’mon, Nor, just tell me.”

“I can’t. But I’m glad we’ve had this time together,” Nora says.

“That’s super fucking cryptic, Nora,” Rachel says. She grabs a fistful of Nora’s jacket sleeve, stops her from getting up. “Just tell me what’s up.”

Nora gently pulls her sleeve free of Rachel’s grasp and smiles more confidently this time. “Forget I said anything,” Nora says. “It’s not a big deal, and it’s late. We should sleep.”

Nora settles in for the night, and Rachel really isn’t in the mood to pick a fight. Besides, she’ll be able to grill Nora on what the fuck that was supposed to mean tomorrow. They’ve got nothing but time now. Except tomorrow rolls around, and Nora’s gone – off writing in her journal – when Rachel wakes up, and Martha talks Rachel into playing a game of Uno with her, except a game turns into multiple rounds as Rachel just keeps winning and Martha becomes more and more determined to win a game herself. Rachel feels like her old self as she competes against Martha, as they keep track of how many wins that they each have by drawing lines in the sand, and Rachel almost suggests that they make Uno tournaments a thing.

She keeps the idea in the back of her mind for when Toni and Shelby get back from the lychee tree. They could use a little fun, and Martha and Leah have both been kind of out of it the last few weeks, and both are only starting to come back from a dark place or some shit – Rachel doesn’t blame herself for not really noticing. She’s had her own shit to handle, and she’s felt like a burden on the group since the attack, but it’s all getting better now. So an Uno tournament seems like just the thing they might need, especially as Martha lights up every time she wins a game. Rachel prepares to pitch the idea when Toni and Shelby return, but she wants to wait until after she finishes her current game with Martha. She needs to focus if she’s going to win again.

And, well, then Rachel doesn’t really get a chance to bring up Uno. Toni and Fatin exchange a few jabs, and Rachel thinks nothing of it until Fatin’s suddenly confessing that her and Leah are a thing, and Rachel just laughs, because it seems to come so out of left field. Leah and Fatin? Shit, Rachel would sooner believe Fatin and Dot shacked up together, or Fatin and Toni were cheating on Shelby, or literally anything other than Fatin and Leah being in a legit relationship.

But no one else is laughing, and no one else even seems overtly surprised by this revelation, so Rachel says, “Wait, seriously? You’re deadass? This isn’t a joke?”

“It’s not a joke,” Dot answers, and Rachel’s eyes drop to Leah, laying with her head in Fatin’s lap, but Rachel hadn’t thought anything of it. Shit, that doesn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary. Half the time, someone’s head is in someone else’s lap. It doesn’t mean they’re together. As Rachel looks around in confusion, the entire group’s mood shifts, becomes much more somber. Becomes unbearably uncomfortable, and Rachel clears her throat, tries to return her attention to what remains of her game of Uno with Martha, but Martha has thrown her last card down on the stack.

“Guess I won the game,” Martha says quietly. She draws the final line in the sand, which shows that Rachel still has more wins overall, then she says, “But you won the tournament.”

Rachel can’t take any pride in her win, though. It doesn’t feel like anyone has won anything. She sighs at her hollow victory, gathers the cards up with her hand and brushes the sand off the cards before carefully returning them to Martha’s suitcase. It’s deathly quiet as Martha goes to join Leah and Fatin and Dot, and somehow, even the ocean sounds quiet. When Rachel catches Nora’s eye, she waves her over, and Nora plops down in the sand beside her.

Rachel leans in and whispers, “Did you know about this?”

Nora shrugs, scratches at the back of her neck, and makes a noncommittal sound. “No? But…kind of? I don’t know. No one said anything about it to me, but it was kind of obvious, I guess.”

Rachel’s eyes narrow. “How was any of that obvious?”

“Fatin has never been subtle,” Nora says, and well, Rachel has to admit that’s true, but she hadn’t noticed anything strange about Fatin’s behavior. Fatin always hits on all of them, any chance she gets, so what makes it so different when it’s Leah? “It’s not that big a deal that you didn’t see it,” Nora adds. “I don’t think Toni did until today, either.”

“What makes you say that?” Rachel scoffs.

“Well, she didn’t say anything about it until now, and I’m pretty sure she would’ve if she’d known sooner.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Rachel mutters. She rubs at her arm, just above the bandaging, which always gets Nora to look at her with an unnecessary amount of concern on her face. “That’s kind of a dick move, especially coming from her.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Rachel tells herself it’s none of her business. She tells herself to continue to stay the fuck out of it. She’s stayed out of everyone’s business since that shark first got to her, and she doesn’t plan on changing now. Doesn’t plan on changing until right after dinner when Fatin chews Toni’s ass out in front of everyone, until after night falls and Leah tries to go for a walk to clear her mind – by herself. Leah wants to go on a walk without Fatin for the first time in weeks, rebuffs Fatin and Dot and Martha when they all offer to go with, when the three of them exchange a concerned look.

“I’ll go,” Rachel announces. She gets to her feet, brushes some of the sand off her pants, and shrugs when Leah sends her a death glare. And maybe it’s a little unfair to play the…hand card? Or shark attack card? Either way, Rachel can’t resist from questioning, “What? You’re gonna tell the girl with no hand that she can’t go on a walk with you?”

“I –” Leah says, but she can’t seem to figure out a way to finish that sentence. “No,” she concedes. “I guess not.”

“Then let’s go,” Rachel says, motioning for Leah to start walking. “We’ll be back,” she tells the others, and she thinks Fatin’s silently trying to thank her with her eyes, but Rachel doesn’t need that shit, so she ignores it. She’s not doing this for Fatin. Shit, she’s probably not even really doing this for Leah. She’s probably doing this for herself, but she’s also barely spoken to Leah in the last month or so, and Rachel’s expecting this little stroll they’re taking to be sorta awkward.

They start off walking up the beach in silence, and after a few minutes, Rachel clears her throat, but Leah doesn’t take the bait, doesn’t speak first. Rachel rolls her eyes as she accepts the fact that she’ll have to breach the silence first.

“It wasn’t cool,” Rachel says. “The way Toni aired your shit out like that.”

Leah shrugs, jams her hands into the pockets of the hot pink leopard print jacket she definitely stole off of Fatin. “It’s not a big deal,” Leah mumbles.

“Um, it’s kind of a big deal,” Rachel scoffs. “Fatin’s been throwing a fit since –”

“She’s doing it for me,” Leah interrupts. Rachel’s eyebrows raise, but she waits for Leah to continue. She kind of thought it’d be harder to get Leah to talk. Apparently she was wrong. “I asked her to keep it quiet at first,” Leah admits. “It was new and…a little scary, maybe, and I didn’t want everyone butting in before we figured our shit out for ourselves. And things got…”

“Bad?” Rachel supplies.

“Yeah,” Leah agrees. “For me. For Martha. Obviously for you, too.”

“It got bad for pretty much everyone,” Rachel says. “Being trapped on an island doesn’t exactly encourage good things to happen.”

Leah glances over at Rachel when she cracks a smile. “What I have with Fatin is good,” Leah says so quietly that Rachel almost misses it. “And it never would’ve happened if we hadn’t ended up here.”

Rachel grimaces, says, “Maybe it would’ve. Who knows?”

Leah huffs. “I know. Fatin and I never talked back home. Never would’ve.”

“You don’t know that, man.”

Leah smirks instead of replying, pulls a hand out of Fatin’s jacket in order to rub at her peeling nose. “You could barely believe that Fatin and I are together.”

“Okay, look…” Rachel says, raising her hand, but she’s forced to trail off when she realizes she has no idea how she intends to finish that sentence. She’s let off the hook when they both dissolve into giggles, and Rachel can’t remember the last time she saw a genuine smile on Leah’s face – at least, directed as something or someone other than Fatin. “It just caught me off guard, alright?” Rachel says.

“Why?”

“No offense, but you two seem so different.”

“We are,” Leah says, “but maybe not as different as you think.”

Rachel nods, exhales heavily. “As long as you’re happy.”

Leah snorts then clears her throat, says, “Yeah, it’s a little hard to be, like, truly happy out here, you know?”

Rachel lifts her bandaged arm, says, “You’re telling me.”

They laugh together again, and Leah shakes her head and asks, “We’re never gonna hear the end of that, are we?”

“Fuck no,” Rachel says. “I don’t have a hand. You’re all gonna hear about it until we die.”

Which could be any day now. Rachel keeps that thought to herself, doesn’t let the smile slide off her face.

“You didn’t have to follow me, you know,” Leah says. “I wasn’t gonna do anything stupid. I just needed a break from Fatin bitching at Toni for outing us.”

“Well, too bad. I’m here,” Rachel replies.

“Yeah. I’m glad you came.”

Rachel clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, says, “You’re getting soft on me, Rilke. What happened to the girl that nearly threw herself off a cliff to save a mirror? Or the girl that freed the black box with me? Or the girl who shoved Fatin to the ground and got blood rubbed all over her?”

The corners of Leah’s mouth twitch before she says, “She evolved.”

“You mean she got soft. Got it.”

“Oh, shut up,” Leah says. She pushes at Rachel’s arm. “Says you.”

“At least I have a good excuse. I lost a hand. What happened to you? Oh, right. You got some pussy and –”

“Oh my God! That’s not even fair,” Leah interrupts. Rachel grins smugly at Leah laughs herself breathless. Rachel waits while Leah swipes a few stray tears away, catches her breath, and says, “You should be happy that that version of me is gone.”

“Why?” Rachel questions.

“She was desperate,” Leah answers. “Desperate to – to be liked, and to fit in with all of you, and to…impress.”

“Impress who?”

“You,” Leah admits. “But also Fatin. And everyone else, honestly.”

“Why?”

“Who doesn’t want to be liked?” Leah asks. “And you’re, like, an elite athlete, and Fatin’s a Juilliard-bound cellist, and I – I guess I felt like I hadn’t done much of anything.”

“Well…” Rachel says, “you did Fatin.”

“Jesus, stop,” Leah groans.

“But am I wrong?”

“No,” Leah grumbles. “But still.”

“I had no idea,” Rachel says. “Seems like I’m the only one who hadn’t caught on.”

Leah glances at her, says, “You had other shit going on.”

“We’ve all had shit going on.”

“It’s okay,” Leah says. “And you’re welcome.”

“For what?”

“Making Fatin less insufferable.”

“And how can you take credit for that?” Rachel asks before the answer dawns on her. “Never mind!” Rachel shouts over Leah. “Stop! You know I can’t cover both of my ears at the same time!”

Leah thankfully can’t finish getting her answer out because she’s laughing too hard, and Rachel finds herself laughing again, too, but this time, they’re close enough to camp to draw attention to themselves.

“Hey! What’s so funny over there?” Dot calls.

“Trust me. You do not want to know,” Rachel says. “Seriously. Don’t ask.”

“Apparently it’s not too soon for Rachel to joke about her hand,” Leah says.

“I gotta have a few good jokes up my sleeve,” Rachel says. “It’ll make me seem more personable when we go on TV.”

“Good point,” Fatin says solemnly, and the whole group starts to laugh. Rachel takes a seat by the fire next to Nora as Leah splits off to sit with Fatin and Dot. “Maybe we should prep for our inevitable interviews again,” Fatin suggests, and Rachel joins Toni and Leah in shooting down that idea as quickly as possible. Fatin catches Rachel’s eye, flashes her a smile that Rachel barely manages to return before Fatin’s attention shifts back to Leah.

“So do you think she’s okay?” Nora asks moments before Rachel can fall asleep. She snaps back into awareness, grunting, and Nora anticipates her question before she can ask it. “Leah, I mean. Does she seem okay?”

“I think she’s fine, Nora,” Rachel mumbles.

“You got her to laugh.”

“You say that like it’s a big deal.”

“It kind of is,” Nora points out.

“Yeah, whatever,” Rachel says. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?”

Nora agrees, but Rachel doesn’t remember in the morning, and the conversation never happens. By the time Rachel wonders about Nora’s interest in Leah and her mental states, she already knows everything.

*

[Fatin]

She doesn’t get tight with girls. Never has. Never intends to. She’s always told herself she doesn’t need the problems that come with befriending girls. So being sent on some girl power retreat might as well be Fatin’s worst nightmare. Well, right behind being sent to a boarding school in Oregon, hundreds of miles away from her brothers while they’ll be stuck with her cheating father and their spineless mother. But Fatin prides herself on having, like, zero girl friends – at least, zero real girl friends. Zero girls she can tell highly personal shit to and know they’ll keep quiet about it.

So what happens with Leah is a total fluke, obviously. In fact, Fatin spends the first few weeks waiting for it to blow up in her face. Expects it to. She wouldn’t even be able to blame Leah for that. After the shark incident, Leah totally retreats into herself, and it feels like a time bomb kind of situation.

Except the bomb doesn’t go off. And Fatin can still pride herself on having almost zero close relationships with any girls. She just has to discount all the time she spends with Martha, at first bonding over boys and relationships, but later talking about literally anything and everything. And she just has to ignore how she confides in Shelby first, and then again later on. And she has to acknowledge how she isn’t counting Dorothy as a girl friend because Fatin’s idea of girl friends is straight out of Mean Girls, and Dorothy has never been that type. Looking back on it, Fatin was super wrong about all of that stuff – not about Dorothy not being a mean girl or whatever – and realizes she’s been depriving herself of legit friendships with other women because…she believed some sexist bullshit.

She blurts this out to Leah one night, of course, when Leah is moments away from falling asleep. Not that Fatin was aware of that, but Leah lets her hear it before she pauses and says, “Are you saying all your friends back home are guys?”

“Yes?”

Leah snorts. “That’s a lie. You have a whole girl posse waiting for you.”

“Okay, but they’re not real friends. I can’t tell them anything.”

“Why not?”

Fatin grimaces. “They’ll stab me in the back, obviously. Or steal my man or something.”

Leah’s eyebrows raise as she stares at Fatin in silence for way too many seconds. “Do you really believe that?” Leah asks.

“I know it.”

Leah scoffs. “Then you need to find some better friends. Geez.”

It’s day…seventy? Eighty? Doesn’t matter. Fatin has to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from saying I already have, and instead, she rolls her eyes at Leah and lies back down behind her, mutters something against Leah’s shoulder about being overly judgmental.

“You’re just as judgmental as me,” Leah replies. “Thinking all women are gonna stab you in the back.”

“I never said –”

“Yeah, but I could tell that’s what you meant.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Fatin can’t see Leah’s face, but she knows she’s smiling. Even after seventy and/or eighty days trapped on an island, Fatin can still get Leah to smile. And Fatin’s smiling, too, which is crazy considering the fact that she hasn’t used indoor plumbing or even seen a phone in over two months.

“You have more to say,” Leah mumbles.

“What? No, I don’t.”

“I can feel it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Fatin says. Then hesitates.

[polyamorousmisanthrope]

Organization, Self-Discipline, and a Rant

I posted this in 2021, but I think it still has a point:

A friend of mine re-posted this tweet. I am quite certain that because of this friend’s (VERY REAL) struggles there was a feeling of being seen and validated. And that’s a valid point of view. If something comforts you in your struggles, that’s valid, no kidding. And this article might annoy you. Scroll on by. I’m not wanting to dump on what keeps you going. Times are rough enough. Seriously…

My initial reaction before logic kicked in was nearly incandescent rage. Which led to this rabbit hole as I tried to deal with it.

Why did a little meme make me so mad?

So, remember how it took me thirty years to vacuum a closet? I could have as easily said it took me thirty years to pay my bills or cook a meal or several other things.

Oh sure, I’m organized now. I’m talking “color-coded boxes when it is time to move” level of organization, ‘kay? But even though other people don’t see it, I still remember being shamed in fourth grade because of the desk cubby crammed full of books and papers, and being asked, “You’re so smart, how come you can’t–” about So. Many. Things.

I didn’t become organized by ignoring reality

I am not naturally organized. I am not naturally industrious, and I am not naturally all that productive. I’d call myself lazy, but that invites a lecture from anyone who loves me about being too hard on myself.

I did, at some point, need to accept certain realities. Not paying bills can land one in court. Disorganization can be a big problem in one’s professional life. In my own case, I also have a big problem with depression, so I cannot count day to day being on the ball and thinking clearly. (I mean, really, this rant was because of an initial reaction of NOT thinking clearly)

So, shooting for some damn Platonic Form of “Organized and Disciplined” in my case is a recipe for failure. I’m going to bet it is for you, too.

If your plan has no way to account for delays and failure points, it’s a wish, not a plan.

There used to be a fashion in self-development on YouTube to have The Perfect Morning Routine. You know, get up, do twenty minutes of yoga, make yourself the perfect nutritionally-balanced breakfast, read some Improving Literature, and bike to work… that kind of thing.

To tell on myself, yeah, I’m trying to get in more stretching and yeah, I use a yoga app for that. My general idea is that I’ll get up and do twenty minutes of yoga (stop laughing at me) and then do my day.

I did not, in fact, get right up and do that. It’s almost ten in the morning, I’ve been up since six, and I’m here writing this incredibly detailed rant and not getting in that stretching. So I’m failing, right?

Wrong.

“Imperfectly Perfect” has a lot going for it

My goal for the month is to get in ten minutes of yoga a day as an average measured over a month. I’ll throw in a few minutes today at some point. Probably after I write this.

While an organized person looks like they’re doing things in a strict way and in a specific order, that may not be entirely the case. Sure, you have to show up at the dentist at a specific time, or take your meds before you eat or something. But what time you do your writing or wash your dishes has a lot more wiggle room.

Let it have that wiggle room and let goals that don’t need to be exact be inexact.

“Good Enough” and “Perfect” are two different things. Good enough is better than Perfect.

Bed making… I’ve heard people say that bed-making is too much trouble. When I hear that, I almost always presume another choke point — bed against the wall makes making it a pain in the ass, depression makes it hard to get OUT of bed, never mind making it, things like that.

But…

If the only time you make your bed is when you have the energy to make it neatly enough you won’t be yelled at on Parris Island, you have absolutely confused “Perfect” and “Good Enough.”

I took that picture thirty seconds before I wrote this. I did no adjustments on the bed. It’s just how I made it this morning. I woke up this morning cranky and wanting to punch Humanity in the mouth. So, not motivated. This meets my personal definition for good enough. It’s made. I’m dressed and doing my day.

Good. Enough.

Defining Good Enough will help you. What is “Good Enough” in your life?

Ignoring real issues of executive function will set you up for failure.

Are you distractable? I am. In fact, this article is a prime example of distractability for me. I haven’t written what I plan to do for the day in my Bullet Journal and haven’t done most of my Wednesday morning chores. I got ranty and just had to sit down and write this. That yoga I was going to do? That planning out the day I (usually) do? Obviously not happening right now as I ranty, ranty, rant.

But my life is set up to account for things like this. I accept and plan for the fact that stuff like this happens! I have a means to track what needs to be done that won’t let the genuinely important and urgent things fall through the cracks. Even though I am currently caught up in the glorious dopamine hit of ranting, those things that need to be done are quietly sitting in their places, waiting for my attention.

Thing is, it’s more than just a to-do list. It’s setting up your life to account for how your brain works.

That might mean storing your extra sheets under your mattress so you will immediately re-make the bed when you wash your sheets, or hanging a mask on the back of your door so you don’t forget to put then thing on before you leave your apartment. (Yeah, I know, that looked oddly specific, didn’t it?)

Being organized and disciplined is a skill. Mastering skills take time.

Think of anything you know how to do — playing an instrument, cooking a meal, writing fiction, driving, whatever.You might have wanted to master it overnight. But if you actually developed the skill instead of stopping the activity, you probably put in a lot of time and effort. You probably had failures that made you wince at yourself.

Learning the skill of organization is no different.

I know that saying it took me thirty years of solid work to get organized seems like hyperbole. It’s not. It was really that difficult for me.

Which is, I know, why images like the above set me off a little. I know the intention is to make people feel better about a mutual struggle.

But it also makes me feel like in the common cultural mind, my life’s work was mostly a waste of time.

[armoricaroyalty]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 / ❛ boy crazy ❜ part two (@nexility-sims)

When Zofia walked into a room, everyone noticed. It might have been the enormity of her hair or the constant noise of her rings and bracelets or else the overwhelmingly sweet scent of her favorite body mist, but she was captivating in every sense of the word. Hannah had been jealous of her, once upon a time. It would have been impossible to grow up with her without any jealousy: next to Zofia, everyone became shabby and dull. Ranks didn't matter at all, no title or royal honor could ever compete with that kind of natural charisma. Hannah loved her, but there had been days when she'd hated her, too. Now, though, she was only grateful. When Zofia walked in, nobody noticed the rest of them slipping out.

read part one here

author's note: @nexility-sims and I have been working on the zofia/rui romance since....early 2022? some time in 2021? since #rufia has completely dominated 2/3 of our joint brain power for years, it seemed fitting to finally let them out of our DM's to celebrate Love Day Valentine's Day. Happy V-Day, everyone!

Transcript under the cut.

CHEF | Aren't long nails against dress code, anyway? SERVER | [laughs] Girl, I don't give a fuuu— SERVER | You wanna know who else is wearing acrylics tonight? CHEF | [bored] I dunno, who? SERVER | Oh, nobody, just the Princess Zofia. CHEF | [gasps] CHEF | Shut. Up. You actually talked to her? What was she like? SERVER | She's fucking gorgeous. Like, obviously, but up close, she's even more beautiful. CHEF | Yeah, yeah, but what was she like? SERVER | Okay, so I didn't actually talk to her because she was all over her new boyfriend. They were like, so into each other. It was so sweet. CHEF | Really? I heard it's just a PR relationship so people will think she's over Sigis. SERVER | No way! They're obviously crazy abut each other. You can't fake— UNIDENTIFIED MAN | [offscreen] EVERYBODY OUT! HUGO | What, do I gotta say it again? All of you, clear out! HANNAH | [sighs] Please excuse us. HANNAH | My cousin and I need somewhere to speak privately. Will you please excuse us for a moment? CHEF | ??? SERVER | [shrugs] HUGO | ...anyway, did you see it? HANNAH | See what? HUGO | That stupid little hair flip. He did it a million times. HANNAH | He's growing it out for her. HUGO | Really? Hard to believe, he's so fucking vain. HANNAH | She told me she asked him to grow it long. [deep, beleaguered sigh] She thinks it's sexy. HUGO | What, are you for real? HANNAH | Oh yeah. She's always had a thing for guys with long hair. HUGO | ...huh. HANNAH | Anyway...what's your take? Personally, I don't see what she sees in him. HUGO | [snorts] He's better than Marshall. HANNAH | That's the world's lowest bar. Subterranean, in fact. HUGO | So what are we going to do? HANNAH | He's not a dog, we can't just run him off. HUGO | Well, you can't, but maybe if I— PIDGE | [offscreen] HEY! What are you two talking about? PIDGE | ...and why are you hanging out in the kitchen? ARTHUR | ....hi. HUGO | [icily] Farrier. HANNAH | It's late, Pidge. What are you still doing up? PIDGE | Uh, excuse you. Mama said I can stay until midnight. ARTHUR | ...you two aren't talking about Rui and Zofie, are you? HUGO | ... HANNAH | ...no. PIDGE | You two are such LIARS! PIDGE | Both of you are judgy control freaks! I thought he was really nice. HUGO | He could barely string a sentence together. ARTHUR | I mean...Armorican is his third or fourth language, isn't it? HUGO | Whatever! He gives me the creeps. HANNAH | Well, she says she's in love. HUGO | [scoffs] In love? They've known each other for six months. PIDGE | So? What if it was love at first sight? HANNAH | [exasperated] Pidge— HUGO | Just ignore her, she's fourteen. PIDGE | For your information, I'm fifteen. And I'll be sixteen in May, sooo— HUGO | Yeah, a baby— ARTHUR | Can I remind everyone that Zofia is twenty-two? She's an adult, she can make her own choices, and this is none of our business. HUGO | You're right, Farrier. It's none of your business. HANNAH | [offscreen] Hugo, enough. PIDGE | [mouthing] Rude. HANNAH | Arthur, what was your read? ARTHUR | I don't know, and I don't want to form a judgment until I've actually gotten to know him. He seems...fine? On par with the other guys she's dated. HANNAH | [sighs] "On par with all her other boyfriends" is the entire problem. HANNAH | I just don't want her to get hurt again. This happens every time, you know? She falls hard and fast and then the guy turns out to be a scum-sucking lowlife. PIDGE | [laughs] Hellooooo, what about Van? He was— HANNAH | Probably thw worst of all of them. Trust me, Pigeon. He's...he's no good. HUGO | [jokingly] You see, baby bird? That's why you're not allowed to date until you're thirty and why Hannah's gonna join a convent— PIDGE | No way, that's not fair. HANNAH | [tiredly] Hugo, shut up. No one asked. PIDGE | Yeah, Hugo. No one asked. ARTHUR | Look, I think we should at least give the guy a chance. HANNAH | [sighs] I guess we owe her that much. PIDGE | Guys, I actually talked to him, and trust me: he is like, sooo nice. HUGO | ... HUGO | I bet I could take him. PIDGE | Hey! Hannah, did you hear what he just said—

[taysdorothea13]

forever winter

summary — in twenty-twenty-one phoebe bridgers and lainey performed an acoustic version of funeral at a show for the reunion tour. lainey attended eras to support phoebe where she crossed paths with taylor swift. 

authors note — only a fourth of the original plot description, but i didn't have a summary written and i wasn't going to stress myself out with one. this one is shorter, only a couple thousand words, but if you like emma and taylor you'll like this little glimpse at lainey and taylor. another vault fic!

01

The Eras Tour @tswifterastour ∙ 5/5/23

🚨 | Lainey Lovves has been spotted in the VIP tent at today's show #NashvilleTSTheErasTour

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ashley 🫶🏼 @doveslovveswifts ∙ 5/5/23

LAINEY AT THE ERAS TOUR?! OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING 

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debutation 💚🖤 @lilieswift ∙ 5/5/23

is it just me or is her outfit very debut coded? 

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jenna @jennalovestaylor ∙ 5/5/23

replying to @lilieswift

the COWBOY BOOTS? lainey knows SOMETHING 

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kels 🪩 @cowboylikekels ∙ 5/5/23

since when do taylor and lainey know each other?! 

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morgan 💗 @midnightsmemories ∙ 5/5/23

replying to @cowbodylikekels 

i think lainey's there to support phoebe! they're reported to be close friends and they preformed together at the reunion tour in 2021 

Pop Base @PopBase ∙ 5/6/23

Dove Lovves supports friend, Phoebe Bridgers, at The Eras Tour

Read here: popbase.beehiv.come/eras-dove-lovv...

NISSAN STADIUM  MAY 5, 2023

Lainey slipped into the tent with a nervous smile on her lips. Around her neck was a VIP pass, the laminated card-stock glimmering beneath overhead lights that drowned the stadium in a fluorescent glow. Nashville was beautiful this time of year, Lainey had learned that as a teenager, but she took a moment to appreciate the states underwhelming warmth as she settle beside lively bodies. Some were dressed casually; Lainey noted that a group of people to her immediate right were dressed in jeans and comfortable t-shirts, but other's were more fitted for the bustling atmosphere that wrapped around them like a sequined vice. She didn't stand out amongst them, but she hadn't been trying to. She'd played the dress code safe, a white sundress and a couple of necklaces adorning her slim figure, but her wrists met the silently pushed expectations of the night. Lainey knew how to make friendship bracelets, she'd grown up in the sticks, of course she knew how to carefully thread and weave such pieces, but the pearls of plastic held a weight that coarse string didn't. Most of the colors she'd chosen were muted, lots of tans and a generous amount of greens, but there was variation the further down the eye travelled. Lainey had no expectations of trading, she wasn't really here for the social connection, but it felt appropriate to lean into the world of another artist even for just a night. 

The tent was void of place cards, suggesting that guests were free to mingle and settle wherever they naturally landed, and somehow for Lainey, that ended up being at the very front of the black tent. The metal barrier was cold beneath her fingertips as she trailed her touch along the rusted surface, taking a moment to ground herself as she waited for the concert to begin. The VIP pass around her neck rustled with the breeze, and just as she'd looked down to adjust the laminated card-stock that was anything but professional, an amused laugh caught her attention. 

"You make that yourself?" The voice was gruff but not unwelcoming, falling upon Lainey who'd been unsuspecting at the time. She flinched just slightly, the tension within her muscles merely an instinctive response. It had been a while since she'd needed to be on. Naively she'd anticipated existing in the shadows for the night, but four minutes in and her solitude was already being breached. 

She'd always been told her eyes were soft, but that had never made any sense to her. Still, she was aware of her lack of edge as she gave the stranger beside her a chance at genuine conversation. "No, uh, it's kind of a running joke between me and a friend." She fiddled with the clasp of her necklace absentmindedly, clammy fingers adjusting the pendant resting flat against her collarbone; a nervous tick she'd never been able to break. "It's not the prettiest thing, huh?" 

Lainey was aware that the card-stock around her neck was somewhat hideous. The lanyard around her neck was generic, one of many that floated around the stadium, but the laminated card-stock was unlike anything else in the room. It was black and it sported the messiest chicken-stratch writing she'd ever seen in stark white ink. She could appreciate the incorporation of chunky glitter, but even the sleek sliver hue looked out of place on the rounded edges. Even with its imperfect appearance, Lainey appreciated the time that had gone into crafting it. 

"Definitely not." The man scratched at his beard, the coarse hair adorning his chin a collection of colors but primarily white as if mimicking fresh powder. His hand extended seconds later, "Scott Swift." 

Recognition flashed across Lainey's face, if only because the last name was hard to miss in a room filled with merchandise and buzzing individuals. Lainey's hand outstretched without missing a beat, her palm meeting Scott's in a gentle exchange. "Lainey Lovves." 

It was Scott's turn to bristle with recognition, and the man did so with poise. "Last name like that's hard to forget. If I'm not mistaken, you're on the backstage access list." There was nothing beneath the observation. It was just a casual comment of realization, but somehow it felt like an accusation in the loud room. Lainey found herself laughing softly, shoulders coming up to her ears. 

"Yeah, I'm here for my friend Phoebe." She nodded softly, wrapping her fingers around the black lanyard absentmindedly. She didn't dislike these baseless conversations, but so many months out of the game had their repercussions. The spotlight was something Lainey would never truly settle into seamlessly. "I'm excited for Taylor though. I've heard nothing but amazing things." 

Scott's demeanor softened at the mention of his daughter, and Lainey couldn't help but smile in return. She and Phoebe hardly talked about their industry connections. They were friends because they clicked on a personal level, their aligning careers only provided unspoken understanding in times of crisis or burnout. Taylor had never come up, and by default, neither had either of her parents. All Lainey knew was that Scott loved his daughter, that much was obvious simply by sparing a glance in his direction. "She'll love to hear that. She's poured her entire heart into this tour. It never fails to amaze me." 

Their conversation was interrupted by screaming, a group of girls toward the back of the floor all turned toward Lainey. Some of them had their phones indiscreetly angled in her direction, others were merely pointing and waving animatedly. Only when Scott became quiet beside her did she realize her voice was echoing through the stadium, and the large majority of people around them were all picking up on her unexpected presence. Lainey laughed sheepishly, offering the group of girls a comforting wave, only further sending them into a fit of chaotic screaming. Security at the front of the tent prevented them from stepping any closer than they already were, but Lainey's eyes tracked a specific security guard who had been beckoned over and was now stalking up to her with purpose beneath each step. 

"Ms." He greeted, his voice sounding tired, like he was already over the lively energy that surrounded them. Lainey fought every urge to crinkle her nose at his attitude. Even she was smart enough to recognize the privilege of being in a space with someone so effortlessly talented. "The group to your left has requested I give these to you." 

In his outstretched hand was four beaded bracelets, all with a specific theme in mind. The specifically chosen colors clashed in the palm of his hand, but Lainey accepted them regardless of coordination. With grace, she wiggled a few bracelets off of her wrist, handing them back to the guard in a professional exchange. "If you wouldn't mind, can you pass these back?" 

All she received in response was a curt nod, the mans rough fingertips brushing against her palm as he accepted the carefully strung bracelets with little care. Lainey rolled her eyes at his silhouette as he stepped away, turning her attention back to Scott who had been keeping watch over the tense exchange. "It's kind of sad how little guys like the care." It was a one off comment, nothing truly spectacular, but Scott made a sound of understanding that confirmed he was equally as unimpressed with the gruff attitude. 

Neither had the time to say anything else. The stadium was bathed in electric energy as Gracie Abrams came on stage, marking the official start of the night's stellar line-up. While Gracie and Lainey had only ever crossed paths professionally, they had kindled something of a friendship over the months of continuous meetings. As if Gracie was aware of Lainey's presence in the crowd, warm brown eyes searched intently for her face. Lainey offered a radiant smile and a wave when Gracie's eyes found hers, and she giggled softly to herself when Gracie did a dramatic spin in the center of the stage, a silent acknowledgement of the support Lainey whole-heartedly provided from the audience. She wasn't a major name. There were still days where she could slip between the cracks and live unbothered by media swarms, but everyone who knew her had nothing but glowing reflections. Gracie was one of those people. 

Lainey didn't care if she was making a fool of herself as she swayed with her entire body, simply feeling the music that filled the stadium with reverberating connection. At one point, she'd closed her eyes, content to stand beneath Gracie's vocals and the setting sun. Too quickly was it over, and Gracie disappeared into the wings, drowning the stadium in abrupt silence before the playlist resumed and fans around the room buzzed. Even if Lainey hadn't seen the show Taylor put on before, she'd heard from Phoebe that each night the playlist was the same, and by the uproar in the crowd as the minutes passed by, she figured that Phoebe's set was approaching. 

She was correct. The last song hadn't even finished entirely before the screen was flashing to life, Phoebe's hair a stark image around the stadium as she settled into the center of the stage. The catwalk hadn't been breached by Gracie, and it seemed Phoebe was abiding by that same direction, only ever crossing half of it before she migrated back to where a microphone stand was set up beside other guitarists and a drum set. Lainey waved excitedly in Phoebe's direction when her fried paused for a moment of earned reflection. Phoebe held a commanding stare, and as she took in the sight of fans scattered around the room, still trickling in from the parking lot and merchandise queue's she held a powerful expression. Lainey knew how much moments like these meant to her fellow artists, even if she'd never played a show to this magnitude. 

Just as easily as Gracie's set ended, Phoebe's did as well. Lainey had half a mind to find her friend backstage, but something kept her firmly rooted in place beside Scott at the tent's barrier. The man hadn't tried to strike up further conversation, but every couple of minutes Lainey recognized the heat of his eyes on her frame as she waved to fans and bounced to familiar songs. She couldn't explain what was passing between them every time they narrowly avoided eye-contact, but it was something akin to respect. Perhaps Scott had never witnessed someone so tuned into music in the VIP tent. One glance around the cramped rows of seating told Lainey that those that had found themselves invited to the nights show were using the experience as a conversational event more than a music related one. 

Lainey cheered loudly when Taylor rose from the center of the stage in a blue and pink bodysuit. Her curly hair had been straightened to perfection, not a single crease or crimp in sight as she whipped her head around the stadium, commanding the attention of those that gathered in fold-up seats and makeshift rows. Lainey was a proud enjoyer of Taylor's discography. She's certain at least a handful of clips exist on the internet where she's doing nothing but gushing about the emotional appeal that's rooted in so many of the blonde's tracks, but she wouldn't call herself a Swiftie. She was a casual listener; someone that recognized talent without feeling the need to harp on the personal nitty-gritty. But for the night, Lainey was unabashedly allowing herself to react to the music however it influenced her. Her hands flailed in the air with amusing incoordination, her voice carried far as she sung along to the familiar lyrics, and never had she been so grateful for choosing shoes without a heel as she bounced and jumped along to the captivating melodies. 

As the eras progressed, Lainey was only aware of passing time because of how the sky darkened with nightfall. The wristband on her left wrist flashed red, perfectly in sync with the others around her. She'd always been fascinated by small details like this, and there was no denying how the pulse of color around the stadium affected the energy of the crowd as Taylor put on the performance of a lifetime. Lainey wasn't even sure she could call this a concert, it was like a beautifully crafted show as Taylor incorporated physical set pieces with screen backdrops and effects. She screamed when Phoebe appeared beside Taylor on the stage, the start of a song she knew like the back of her hand playing through the stadium as two guitars harmonized beautifully. Lainey made a mental note to yell at Phoebe later as she screamed the lyrics to Nothing New. She'd asked her friend if there was any chance of it being preformed, and with annoyingly believable deception, Phoebe had told her there was no time to add it to the set. 

Too quickly did the concert end, but before Lainey could brew in her disappointment, Scott was tapping her arm and motioning for her to follow him out into the back hallway where two security guards stood with folded arms. She had every right to be backstage. Her name was on the list, she had the password that Phoebe had demanded she memorize, and the laminated card-stock around her neck had a bold blue star on the corner that apparently coordinated with the nights security protocol, but still she felt unnerved as she stood beneath the firm stares. 

"She's with me." Even though her name had been on the list, Scott hadn't referenced it at all. The guards were very obviously personal members of Taylor's team, and without deliberation they nodded in acceptance, stepping out of Scott's way and allowing both of them access to the dressing rooms. The door they passed through had a metal detector fused into the automatic wiring system, and despite already being cleared for entry, Lainey breathed a sigh of relief when no lights flashed red as she passed through. "How long are you in Nashville for?" 

"Only the next couple of days. I've got a couple interviews scheduled." Lainey hadn't ever focused too much on press, but her label had suggested she keep conversation sharp as rumors of a tour circulated social media. It was nothing too extensive, she had no interest in selling herself to the vultures for a couple of additional streams and luckily her label respected that, but they would still require a certain professionalism she had to prepare herself to appeal to. 

"Well, I'll be sure to give your name to the crew. It's been a while since I've seen someone so in tune with music in the tent. If you have the time to stop by, there'll be a space for you." Lainey wasn't sure of what to make from the invitation, but she found herself nodding along regardless of the underlying message. She loved music, she loved concerts. It would be an honor to be invited back to a show of this level, and so Lainey found herself agreeing with the proposal. 

She'd been about to respond when a whirlwind of purple tinsel caught her attention. Upon closer inspection, it was an assortment of rainbow hues, but from a distance, all that could be made out were the notes of deep violet. "Hey, Dad." Taylor panted for breath, her face flush from the strenuous routine she'd spent the last three and a half hours going through with radiant passion. Blue eyes flickered down to Lainey, their height difference only noticeable now that Taylor had fallen into step with her and Scott. "Lainey, right?" 

"Yeah." Lainey smiled brightly, "That was one hell of a show. I'd try to play it cool but your Dad watched me freak out for the last four hours." A gentle blush rose on the apples of her cheeks, amused laughter spilling from both Scott and Taylor as they descended farther into the back hallways. At this point, Lainey wasn't even sure where they were headed, but she figured Scott was taking it upon himself to show her the way to Phoebe's dressing room. 

"It was refreshing. The tent hasn't felt so lively in years." Scott smoothed over the comment, peaking Taylor's interest as she hummed her curiosity. "Lainey's in town for the next couple of days. I've already told her she's welcome at the next string of shows." 

Taylor hummed, her eyes sharp as she turned her attention on Lainey. "Don't let him talk you into anything you don't have time for. He can be... annoyingly persuasive." Taylor rolled her eyes, shimming out of the tinsel adorned jacket with a relieved sigh. Goosebumps prickled her forearms at the assault of comfortable air hitting hot skin, and Lainey could only imagine how good it felt to finally breathe without the heat of stage lights and costumes. "If you do decide to turn up, I'll have to keep my eyes peeled. It's not easy to impress him." 

"I don't know if impress is the right word." Lainey laughed sheepishly, "I was quite the unflattering mess out there. I'll be here though. Another night like tonight is better than room service and cheap wine." 

"Wear something blue? I'll know what to look for." Taylor sounded hopeful, even if it was merely a polished formality. Lainey immediately racked her brain for everything that she'd shoved into her suitcase. Besides the one outfit she'd packed for tomorrow's interview specifically, there wasn't anything blue that stuck out in her memory. Her album was rather neutral themed, a lot of greys and deep greens, and unintentionally she'd packed an assortment of outfits that fit that melancholy theme. The only colors that stood out in her mind were pink and yellow. The pink dress was an immediate no for something of this nature, but the yellow t-shirt she'd packed would do well enough if she paired it with her favorite Levi jeans. 

"Will yellow work for you, Ms. Swift?" She teased lightheartedly, finding Taylor easy enough to talk to even if the conversation was relatively simple. Neither of them seemed willing to delve into anything more than casual small-talk, and Lainey couldn't blame Taylor for the surface level comments. The woman was most definitely exhausted, and this far surpassed her expectation of the night regardless. She'd heard a rumor or two that Taylor didn't mingle after shows, both because she didn't have the mental capacity of handling conversation with anyone who wasn't a close friend, and because she really did strive to protect the health of her vocal chords. Lainey felt like it was privilege enough to even be getting this small conversation. 

"Yellow works." Taylor laughed softly, shaking her head as she looked between Lainey and her father, her steps slowing down as they approached a door with a white sheet of paper taped to the center. Lainey assumed it was Taylor's dressing room, and for a second she'd worried that she'd blindly followed them without invitation, but one glance to her left said that Phoebe's dressing room was perfectly in sight. "I'll see you back here early tomorrow, Dad. Yellow. Tomorrow. If you don't wear yellow, you're banned from all future shows." Taylor's tone was light and friendly, and Lainey found herself smiling in conformation that tomorrow night, she'd be dressed in the color yellow and nothing even slightly different. 

"It's been a pleasure, Mr. Swift." Lainey turned her attention back to Scott when Taylor disappeared into her dressing room, her shoulders dropping in exhaustion just before she'd closed the door behind her body. Lainey had preformed at a handful of festivals and had headlined a few very small tours for albums in the past, but she had no idea what it was like to be on a world-tour for months on end, day-in and day-out devoting all of her time to nothing but preforming and recharging. She figured it was exhausting, but confirmation of that speculation would find its way to her in the coming year when she embarked on her first arena tour early the next year. 

"Please, just Scott will do." The man laughed amusedly at the formal exchange, shaking Lainey's hand one last time before he left her to connect with Phoebe, mentioning something about returning to the hotel as he stalked down the hallway. 

Phoebe was absolutely buzzing on the couch when Lainey entered the room with a soft knock on the doorframe. They hadn't seen each other in months, not with Lainey constantly moving about, doing the odd promotional run for her album and Phoebe sharpening her craft in preparation for this moment. It was a busy time for the both of them, and oddly enough, they found themselves in a position where Lainey was charting higher than her friend. They'd connected when Lainey was only twenty-two years old and doing a small tour for her first album that had only charted because of a collaboration with Julia Michaels. There had been no expectations in their quick friendship. Lainey was oftentimes opposed to the idea of even being seen with Phoebe, wanting her success to come naturally if it came at all, more content with getting to know each other on intimate levels rather than carefully constructed professional ones. Phoebe was an easy enough person to make that work with. She wasn't very outwardly expressive, and her mellow attitude often led them to nights in with a glass of wine rather than fancy dinners and staged pap walks. Tonight had shifted something however, like they were both finally facing the truth. Lainey wasn't just a small underground artist anymore, and Phoebe was on a tour that amounted far more than any of hers could've dreamed of. This was the turning point, and it was blissfully electric beneath them. 

"You asshole." Lainey grumbled as she sank into the chair across from Phoebe, the wristband on her arm still flashing blue like it had been doing throughout the entirety of the Midnights set. "What happened to, 'There's not enough time for Nothing New'." She mocked the earlier conversation they'd had, her lips downturned into an unforgiving pout as she glared as fiercely as she could manage in Phoebe's direction. 

"I'm literally under an NDA, Lai!" Phoebe laughed amusedly, her eyes sparkling as she settled into Lainey's comfortable company, the two of them falling into place like no time had separated them in the slightest. It felt good to be surrounded by friends again, even if it would all go back to how it was when the weekend expired too quickly. 

sarah 🫶🏼 @softswiftie ∙ 5/5/23

did anyone else notice how annoyed lainey looked at that security guard? 

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JESS ✨ @sheeranstruggles ∙ 5/5/23

replying to @softswiftie 

he looked so bothered the entire night! 

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Trinity @trinb13 ∙ 5/5/23

replying to @sheeranstruggles

lainey's one of us! 

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1989 lover 🪩 @cleanxwonderland ∙ 5/5/23

a thread of dove lovves looking less than impressed with asshole security guards 🧵

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#1 swiftie @mirrorballsrep ∙ 5/5/23

replying to @cleanxwonderland 

the only time i've ever seen lainey look annoyed is when somebody's an asshole at a concert 😭 i love her so much i can't even explain akjdhjkashs

02

The Eras Tour @tswifterastour ∙ 5/6/23

🚨 | Lainey Lovves has been spotted at Nashville N2 #NashvilleTSTheErasTour

camila @ marveloustimeruiningme ∙ 5/6/23

SHES WEARING YELLOW WHAT DOES IT MEAN FEARLESS TV IS ARLEADY OUT 

caroline 🪩 @mirrorballtay ∙ 5/6/23

replying to @ marveloustimeruiningme

... maybe she just wanted to wear the color yellow? not everything has to mean something. besides, dove and taylor aren't even friends. she's literally there to support phoebe? 

Emma !! @ thisisemtrying ∙ 5/6/23

DOVE LOOKS SO GOOD KASDHKJAHD IVE MISSED HER SO MUCH 

dove 🕊️ @stickseazon1 ∙ 5/6/23

this woman always looks like she's just happy to be here 

fearless tv @mastermindlibra ∙ 5/6/23

did anyone else see the clip of dove absolutely losing it to fifteen. she's so me coded like girlie was wiping away literal tears ajdajkdhaj

jas 🥐 @dovesgirlfriend ∙ 5/6/23

replying to @mastermindlibra

yes! it reminded me of the time she went to see p!nk and cried hysterically when willow came out to sing cover me in sunshine 

tess (Glendale N1) @doveswift13

replying to @dovesgirlfriend

the way she feels music needs to be studied IM SERIOUS

NISSAN STADIUM

MAY 6, 2023

Lainey was exhausted. Her day had been anything but easy to manage. It had taken a turn for the worst when she'd slept through all but one of her alarms, and had needed to scramble to dress herself before her hair and makeup team arrived to get her interview ready at just after seven in the morning. It had only gotten worse from there, which Lainey hadn't thought was possible until it happened. Her first interview had gone off without a hitch, but the second had been severely delayed after an unexplainable power outage in the building had prohibited filming until hours later. By some miracle, Lainey made it to the stadium in time for Phoebe's set, but she'd entirely missed the first opening act and the guilt, though not her fault, was heavily felt. She knew what it was like to be an artist that hadn't yet had that break through moment, and she'd promised herself that she would never stop advocating and supporting the little guy. Gayle wasn't entirely underground, Lainey knew that a handful of her songs had made it big after various TikTok trends went viral, but it was still an odd feeling to tackle now that she was racking in millions of streams by the day. Regardless of her guilt, the electric energy of the crowd had captivated her within seconds, and the exhaustion wasn't so heavily felt. 

She was dressed in her favorite pair of jeans and the promised yellow t-shirt she'd mentioned the night before. The jeans hugged her waistline snugly, and with desperately needed tailoring, the hem of them came just below the heel of her shoes. Lainey had never been so grateful for platform sneakers. They gave her just enough added height that she didn't have to worry about stepping on the ends of them anytime she shifted even slightly. Her hair was falling down her back in loose waves, a result of the curls she'd sported at one point, but the weather and hours of wear had caused them to fall significantly since early morning. Half of her hair was tied up and secured by a yellow bow, the delicate ribbon something familiar and easy to accentuate if an outfit called for subtle accessory.  The added touch was the glimmer of gold on the back of her hand, the meticulously sketched '13' feeling like the perfect addition that even designer jewelry couldn't match. Like the night before, Phoebe searched for her in the crowd, offering a carefully concealed expression when their eyes locked for a brief moment. Like the night before, Phoebe's set ended far too quickly. 

Unlike the night before, Scott wasn't in the tent beside her. She stood between random faces, suddenly understanding why the man had been so captivated by her wild energy now that she was acutely aware of the tension around her. The tent felt stifled by stillness, the bodies beside her attentive, but lacking any genuine connection, even as Taylor appeared from that same spot in the center of the stage and kicked off the night with a radiant energy. Lainey didn't allow the suffocating muted reactions to dampen her enjoyment however. She'd been a music enthusiast since she'd been old enough to articulate what songs she liked and which she didn't. That was what fueled her career and her desire to keep putting out new pieces, even when they'd gained little traction with the media. She loved the rawness of putting personal experiences to an ensemble of sounds and melodies, and even if it felt repetitive in the current social climate with every publication site across the world praising Taylor, Lainey had to praise Taylor herself for how she'd managed to navigate that path of vulnerability so vastly over the span of her career. 

As the night continued on and Lainey saw the concert for a second time, she picked up on minor detailing that she'd been blind to the night before. There wasn't a single moment of boredom that passed through her as the hours carried on, despite what most would expect after watching the same thing not even a full twenty-four hours ago. There was no way to be bored when Taylor incorporated so much attention to detail into every minor aspect of her performance. From her dancers wardrobe to the graphics plastered across the stage, there was something to look for and notice at every turn. Lainey was sure she hadn't even picked up on a fraction of what there was to unpack and marvel at, but she was more than content with what she did see. She also wasn't ashamed to admit that she'd wept like a baby during the acoustic set. When Taylor had sat down at the piano and the opening chords of Fifteen had filled the stadium with a sense of nostalgia, Lainey had absolutely lost it. She'd never learned to be ashamed of her connection to music, and it was undeniable that Taylor had played a role in her childhood and adolescence. 

The Midnights era had come too quickly, but in Lainey's world concerts would be a never-ending event. She'd been fully immersed in the experience of watching Vigilante Shit for the second night in a row when a member of Taylor's personal security team breached the front of the tent. It was one of the guys from the night before, his sharp eyes unforgettable even now as they searched the crowd for her face before finding her pinned between two muscular guys, both of whom were deep into their third or fourth beer. Lainey hadn't really been paying attention to their drinking endeavors, but she'd felt the jab of their elbows in her ribs every time they turned to reach for another drink brought to them by girlfriends clinging off of their arms like decorative furniture pieces. 

A note was slipped her way without any spoken word, and the guard didn't linger to see her reaction as she unfolded the piece of paper that looked like it had been ripped straight out of a notebook without precision. Her eyes scanned the handwriting, unfamiliar with the swoopy lettering but soon realizing that it had come from Taylor herself. When the woman had found the time to send her a message was unknown, but the mention of her yellow bow on the lined paper only indicated that it had been sometime between the Lover era and Midnights. 

'Meet me in my dressing room? Cute bow btw. -T' 

Lainey laughed at the intentional vagueness, but was still touched by the sentiment of the short note between her fingers. She slipped it into her pocket moments later, focusing back on the performance that was nearing its end as Karma rippled through the stadium at a deafening volume. She stayed within the crowd until the last piece of confetti had fallen before she weaved her way through the cramped rows of chairs and high-top seating in the tent, trailing out into a back hallway the same way that Scott had shown her the night before. She was only slightly surprised when the guards at the door let her in without any questioning, stepping out of her way before she'd even been close enough to tell them her name without having to yell over the bustle of the crowd leaving the stadium overhead. 

She navigated the hallways with a better sense of direction than she had the night before, but still all of the hallways looks the same as she made right turn after right turn, eventually making a left when she thought she recognized one of the cleaning carts on the corner of a long hallway. A breath of relief fell off of her lips when she eventually found Taylor's dressing room, the sign on the door marked with black sharpie that very ominously said 'Ragdoll' in thick lettering. There was definitely a story behind the name, but Lainey had no time to ponder its meaning as Taylor came up behind her with soft, inaudible footsteps. 

"Jesus!" Lainey startled easily, the hand adorned with gold glitter and eyelash glue falling over her rapidly beating heart as she snapped her gaze to the left, meeting Taylor's sparkling blue eyes beneath the bright lighting that washed them both out horrendously. "You scared the crap out of me." The singer panted for breath, the apples of her freckle dusted cheeks rosy as they filled with blood. If she was embarrassed by her jumpy reaction, it wasn't visible on her features. 

"Sorry." Taylor laughed softly, her voice dull but still carrying a note of friendly warmth as she stepped past Lainey to open the door and welcome the both of them into the chaotically torn apart room. It wasn't anything that Lainey hadn't seen before, but still Taylor offered an apology for the sight of her clothes strewn over the couch and remnants of random makeup items lingering against the vanity. "You were something else out there." Taylor didn't beat around the bush with her acknowledgement of Lainey's energy in the crowd. She didn't feel like she had to. Something about Lainey was just easy to mesh with, and she found herself acting as if they'd been friends for more than just a handful of seconds. They weren't even friends, not really, but neither woman made an effort to act like they were strangers. Music had a profound way of establishing connection, and Lainey's all or nothing energy in the crowd had already worn down most of Taylor's guard. "It was nice to see someone so in tune with the music. The fans go hard every night, but it's always a gamble on if the tent's going to have that same energy." 

"The tent was boring." Lainey rolled her eyes, amusing Taylor who was already rifling through a mini-fridge in the corner of the room, her muscles sore if the way she winced as she stood up was any indication of the pain she felt. "It's like nobody actually cares about music anymore." She hummed insightfully, taking a seat on the couch when Taylor motioned for her to make herself comfortable. She graciously accepted a bottle of water from the blonde when it was passed over, the condensation around the plastic cap already beginning to sweat as it was held between warm hands. 

"A little dramatic, are you?" Taylor giggled, sipping on the water with leisure, her eyes fluttering closed as the ache in her throat was eased by the cold liquid. 

"No." Lainey grumbled, her soft eyes trailing to meet Taylor's as she shifted on the couch, just barely grazing the blonde's knee with her own before she twisted her legs beneath her weight and settled into the well-worn leather.  "I mean, maybe, but no! They were so boring, you have to admit that!" 

"I have to, huh?" Taylor teased, blue eyes sparkling as she maintained eye contact over the rim of the bottle. She felt disgusting. She was sweaty and sticky, and the longer she sat beneath the air conditioning had her feeling like the sheen of perspiration on her skin was only growing thicker. She didn't let the discomfort reflect in her expression, not sure if Lainey was the type to settle into new connections easily or stand skittishly on the outskirts, and she didn't feel like testing those waters by asking if the brunette would be comfortable keeping herself company while Taylor showered off the nights activities. "Yeah, they were kind of boring." She broke beneath Lainey's unimpressed glare, a fond smile pulling at her lips as she pulled her hair to one side of her neck, sighing in relief when a wave of cold air fell against her clammy skin. 

"Do you usually shower after you get off stage? I can see myself out if you do, or I can wait for you? You look like a cherry tomato." From the crowd, the flush of heat on Taylor's cheeks and the tips of her ears was barely noticeable, but up close, it was evident how much the night had taken out of the blonde. Even if she'd been invited backstage, Lainey didn't want to overstay her welcome if Taylor needed a minute to breathe and come down from the high of being on stage for the last three-and-a-half hours. 

"If you don't mind waiting I can have a pizza delivered. Or, I can shower and you can come back to the hotel with me. Back exit down the last hallway, no paps or fans. Phoebe mentioned that you're a fan of the shadows." Taylor's eyes glimmered with amusement as the last thought slipped off of her lips. Lainey's face flushed with heat, her striking blue eyes rolling into the back of her head as she chuckled dryly. 

"Phoebe's dramatic. But, I'm more than okay with pizza and heading back to your hotel. No early morning tomorrow?" Lainey tried not to stare as Taylor rose from the couch and began to collect the articles of clothing that were strewn across the couch and the floor, looking like she'd frantically tried to get herself ready before heading on stage. Lainey had no room to judge, not that she would've anyway, but the sight of her hotel room was starkly similar. 

"Still an early morning, but I'm still riding the high. I can't promise I'll be so functional after a shower, but I've been thinking about pizza all day." Taylor craned her head to look back at Lainey, meeting her eyes with a teasing wink as she gathered everything that wasn't already in the dressing rooms en-suite bathroom. It was far nicer than any dressing room Lainey had ever seen the inside of, that was for sure. 

"You know what's funny, so have I. Probably because there's a pizzeria down the street from my hotel and I've been thinking about eating since I slept through my alarms this morning." Lainey laughed softly, shaking her head as she settled farther into the couch, effectively curling in on herself like some kind of kitten. Taylor couldn't help but think she looked adorably soft as she cuddled into the couch cushions. 

"Oh my god, I thought I missed the alarms I have set for when I need to start getting ready. I could've sworn they just never went off but I convinced myself that that was unlikely." Taylor laughed, shaking her head as she combed her fingers through her tangled strands of hair, her knuckles snagging on a particularly nasty knot. "That's literally why this room is destroyed. I realized five minutes before my makeup team was set to get in and then frantically scrambled to get into these tights and the Lover bodysuit." 

"I thought I slept through my alarms! Maybe I didn't, maybe you've just broken Nashville." Lainey teased, covering her mouth as she yawned, somehow further curling up on the couch as she watched Taylor reach for a brush on the vanity, pulling it through the knots at the end of her hair. 

"I've broken Nashville?! How the hell would I break Nashville." Taylor laughed, spinning around to face Lainey as she set the brush down, deciding her hair was as good as she was going to get it without conditioner and a nice shower to move the process of detangling along. Her blonde locks were already beginning to shrink back into their naturally curly state, but the warm water she dreamed of hitting her skin would fully reverse the effects of her hairstylists meticulous passes with the straightener still sitting on the vanity. 

"I'm pretty sure I spotted like twenty different people live-streaming the show. It's definitely your fault that our phones are broken." Lainey teased, poking her tongue out at the blonde before it quickly retracted back into her mouth, her expression soft as she and Taylor found a comfortable balance to settle into. It wasn't awkward like so many first impressions tended to be when there was a balance between professionalism and personal connection that needed to be maintained, instead it felt easy, like they'd known each other for years but had never braved a genuine conversation. They still hadn't, but this was by far a large step toward friendship. 

[mirrorball-leclerc]

honest series timeline

(white events indicate an official date, blue events indicate no official date, red indicates which events have corresponding parts)

1989

july first: daniel ricciardo's birth december thirteenth: daphne jones' birth

1994

september first: carlos sainz's birth

1996

february seventh: pierre gasly's birth

1997

march second: penelope trevino's birth september thirtieth: max verstappen's birth october sixteenth: charles leclerc's birth december eleventh: rowan todd's birth

1998

june sixteenth: natalia ruiz's birth

1999

may eleventh: mae jones' birth march twenty-second: mick schumacher's birth november thirteenth: lando norris' birth

2000

october fourteenth: arthur leclerc's birth november twenty-first: freya vettel's birth december thirty-first: logan sargeant's birth

2001

april sixth: oscar piastri's birth july tenth: dulce perez's birth september seventh: bailey winter's birth

2002

january twentieth: isabella perez's birth february twentieth: zoya torres' birth trevino family moves to madrid, spain first meeting between penelope and carlos

2003

first meeting between natalia and charles

2004

2005

freya's adoption

2006

october twenty-fourth: daphne's debut album release

2007

2008

november eleventh: fearless release

2009

september thirteenth: daphne gets interrupted by kanye west at the vma's

2010

twenty-fifth: speak now release

2011

july tenth: daniel ricciardo's debut grand prix

2012

october twenty-second: red release

2013

2014

june twenty-seventh: mae's debut in girl meets world october twenty-seventh: nineteen eighty-nine release

2015

march fifteenth: max verstappen and carlos sainz's debut grand prix april fifteenth: eyes wide open release mae and max begin dating first meeting between daniel and daphne

2016

february twelfth: kanye west releases famous february fifteenth: daphne seemingly shades kanye west at an award show july sixteenth: kim kardashian releases video footage of kanye's phone call with daphne, daphne issues a statement defending herself after the leaked call september twenty-eight: daphne and daniel begin secretly dating october fourteenth: evolution release october twenty-third: daphne performs after the us grand prix mae and max break-up

2017

daphne disappears for a year august twenty-third: daphne announces reputation october first: pierre gasly's debut grand prix november tenth: reputation release

2018

march twenty-first charles leclerc's debut grand prix november ninth: singular act i release natalia and charles' friends with benefits relationship begins

2019

pierre and rowan's situationship begins march sixteenth: lando norris' debut grand prix june thirtieth: scooter braun purchases daphne's masters july first: lover release july nineteenth: singular act ii release september thirtieth: seven release (see seven for further info) november twelfth: zoya's debut on high school musical: the musical: the series

2020

january thirty-first: miss americana release march twenty: the entire phone call between daphne and kanye get leaked july twenty-fourth: folklore release december eleventh: evermore release daniel and joshua reunite mae and max

2021

lando and bailey's fake relationship begins april ninth: fearless (daphne's version) release march twenty-eighth: mick schumacher's debut grand prix may twenty-first: sour release september: filming for daisy jones and the six begins november twelfth: red (daphne's version) release mae and max begin dating again

2022

march: filming for daisy jones and the six wraps natalia becomes pregnant july fifteenth: emails i can't send release september twenty-eighth: daphne and daniel get married october twenty-first: midnights release pierre and rowan accidentally get married in vegas september twenty-eighth: daniel and daphne get married november twentieth: sebastian vettel's final race

2023

january seventeenth: baby leclerc is born rumors of daphne and fernando dating begin (see the daphlonso scandal for further info) lando accidentally leaks daphne and daniel's secret relationship during a livestream (see the daphlonso scandal for further info) march fifth: logan sargeant and oscar piastri's debut grand prix march seventeenth: daphne's eras tour kicks off and emails i can't send fwd release mae and max get secretly married the first meeting between logan and zoya july seventh: speak now (daphne's version) release july eleventh: daniel replaces nyck de vries at alphatauri august twenty-third: mae and max's familial wedding party september eighth: guts release october twenty-seventh: nineteen eighty-nine (daphne's version) release november 11th: daphne's famous line change, "karma is the guy on the track" (see karma is the guy on the track for further info) november fifteenth: mae and max's vegas wedding party (see what happens in vegas never stays in vegas for further info)

2024

january 25th: charles leclerc extends his contract with ferrari for a disclosed amount of time (see divorcegate for further info) january 26th: lando norris extends his contract with mclaren for a disclosed amount of time (see divorcegate for further info) february 1st: lewis hamilton announces his departure from mercedes, and announces his multi-year contract with ferrari. (see divorcegate for further info) february 4th: the 66th annual grammys, daphne announces her new album, the tortured poets department ( see let him be a trophy husband! for further info) march 2nd: the 75th formula one season begins. april 19th: the tortured poets department release june 21st: the secret of us release july 29th: carlos sainz to williams racing announcement august 23rd: short n' sweet release august 27th: logan sargeant's departure from williams racing september 26th: daniel ricciardo's departure from visa cashapp rb december 8th: the final eras tour show

… more events to be added

[sometimesalien]

in trench, i’m not alone: how the dema storyline displays mental health struggles and how they are overcome. 

hello tumblr clique. started this essay whilst procrastinating and it kinda flew under the backseat for a few months and then i found it, blew the dust off it, and finished it. one pointer - it is written like an academic essay as that’s what i was procrastinating at the time. but it’s my interpretation and thoughts of the dema storyline (both explicitly stated by the band and those implied to be part of the storyline) and how they portray mental health struggles. it's 7790 words by the way. i’m gonna launch this out the car window and drive off into the distance. enjoy.

tw for mentions of suicide/suicidal behaviours

On the 17th of May 2015, Ohio based music group Twenty One Pilots released their fourth official studio album, Blurryface. This album kick started the creation of the Dema storyline, which has analysed issues such as mental health struggles and depression, as well as addiction, relapse and overcoming the worst aspects of yourself to become the true version of yourself. These issues were further discussed in the 2018 album Trench and the subsequent follow up album, 2021’s Scaled and Icy, with the whole storyline being concluded in 2024’s Clancy. The storyline that has its foundations in these albums follows the narrator Clancy, portrayed by Tyler Joseph, who is trying to escape a fictional dystopian city called Dema that is ruled over by nine Bishops, with a district for each. The Bishops have created their own religion called Vialism, which glorifies suicide and allows the Bishops to use the bodies for their own purpose.Josh Dun portrays the leader of the Banditos, Torchbearer, who has the power to guide Clancy, which will be further explained further down. The storyline, briefly summarised, is Clancy escaping Dema, being brought back to it, escaping again, being brought back, being forced to make propaganda, escaping again and is now going back in to bring it all down. This essay will be separated into four separate areas, designated by the four albums that are considered part of the storyline. In order, Blurryface, Trench, Scaled and Icy, and finally, Clancy. 

Blurryface.

Whilst not confirmed officially until the ‘I Am Clancy’ video release, Blurryface starts off the Dema storyline subtly. With one song from the album, Heavydirtysoul officially on the YouTube playlist, it can be said that other songs from the album relate to the storyline, whilst not officially being part of the lore. The other songs include their smash hit Stressed Out, Doubt as well as the album closer, Goner. 

Heavydirtysoul begins the whole Dema storyline. In the song, Clancy convinces Nico to take him outside the walls of Dema. This can be seen through the lyrics ‘can you save my heavydirtysoul’. These lyrics can be interpreted as the narrator dealing with mental health struggles and the phrase is acting as a cry for help or the startings of a discussion within themself to realise that is actually wrong. This can be seen throughout the music video for the song, where Clancy is in the car, being driven and he is pleading with Nico. Whilst this can be interpreted to have been a ruse by Clancy, the point still stands as Clancy is still trying to process his struggles and his relationship with Nico through pleading and asking for what is essentially forgiveness. The narrator is pleading with Nico to save them from the problems they are facing in any way possible. This can also be seen through the lyric, ‘it’s just right now I’ve got a crazy mind to clean’. This lyric can be interpreted as the narrator understanding they need to clear their mind and understand the root of their problem, but there is something in the way that is stopping them from doing it. This can also be discussed as the narrator’s last attempt at asking for help from the antagonist, as by saying they have a crazy mind, they are trying to evoke sympathy from the antagonist. By doing this, they are asking for help, which in turn might offer them forgiveness. It is difficult to place this within the story right now, as all the knowledge we have about it was given in the ‘I Am Clancy’ video, but this is open for interpretation from anyone. 

Stressed Out is the most popular song by Twenty One Pilots, but the themes of it tie into mental health and more importantly, how vulnerable mental health issues make people. This can be seen in the lyric ‘My name’s Blurryface and I care what you think’. This can be interpreted as the narrator’s mental health declining and the side of them that they don’t want people to see (the side that is struggling vs the side that is on show) and how they can fall further into the issues by listening to them in turn. Blurryface is the personification of Tyler Joseph’s insecurities, so to have someone care about what the narrator is thinking, but it being the insecurities, further shows that personifying insecurities and giving them a name and a face can either develop into a coping mechanism, or it can cause further issues along the line as by personifying the issues, it can cause a harder time trying to fight them. Whilst this song isn’t directly in the Dema storyline, it is important to note that as revealed in the ‘I Am Clancy’ video, Blurryface is Nico. Therefore, Nico has had an influence in the storyline before the storyline was officially announced. 

Doubt, whilst it can be interpreted in a religious sense, can also be interpreted in ways that relate to mental health. This song echoes the themes established earlier on in the album, where mental health can make someone feel vulnerable, no matter how far they have come from them. This can be seen in the lyric ‘want the markings made on my skin/to mean something to me again’. Whilst this can be interpreted in the literal sense, with Tyler Joseph performing shows since Blurryface with black paint on his neck and hands, but it can be interpreted in the way of self harm. Since the narrator wants the markings to mean something again, they may be at the stage of their recovery where they feel like the marks are insignificant, or they need to feel like how they felt when the markings happened. This relapse of feelings can happen when someone is desperate and in a bad place, which this song is almost synonymous for. In the storyline, the marks mean that the person has been smeared, which means they have been taken under the control of the Bishops. This is seen in the Jumpsuit music video for reference. With this in mind, it can be said that the narrator wants to be taken back under the Bishop’s control, back into the mental health struggles, because they find it hard to relate to anything outside of it. 

The same remains true for the last song on the album, Goner. The themes introduced in this song are ones of defeating the personification of the insecurities and becoming free from them. This can be seen in the lyrics ‘the ghost of you is close to me’. These lyrics can be interpreted as the narrator, having defeated the insecurities, understanding how they are still around and will never be truly gone. The use of ‘ghost’ displays this, as ghosts are believed to haunt the living. This can be interpreted almost in a Jekyll and Hyde situation, with the voice always being there in the back of the mind but the narrator is actively choosing to ignore it and not be pressured by it anymore. The Jekyll and Hyde scenario can also be demonstrated through the lyrics, ‘I’ve got two faces, Blurry’s the one I’m not’. This can be interpreted as the narrator actively revolting against the personification of the mental health issues, almost pleading with whoever is listening to tell them to ignore the personification, that the personification isn’t the person they want to have on show. It could also be interpreted as the narrator pleading with themselves to not let the personification win, and understanding that it will always be there, but it is possible to live alongside them. This links with the storyline as Nico actively seeks out Clancy and marks him in the Jumpsuit video, and again in the Levitate video when Nico brings Clancy back to Dema again. The usage of the markings and having both Clancy and Nico appear in shots together parallels this lyric, it shows the viewer that Clancy and Nico are not the same person, even though Nico targets Clancy throughout.

Overall, even though it is only a small part of the Dema storyline, Blurryface remains the start point. It is important to note that Blurryface establishes the storyline. Mental health in this case is demonstrated through othering, personification and pleading with the listener to differentiate the two characters, which is something completed throughout someone dealing with mental health problems. 

Trench

Trench started the second part of the storyline in July 2018. This section will focus on the three songs considered to be part of the story as seen in the YouTube playlist which are Jumpsuit, Levitate and Nico and the Niners, as well as three others that are significant, which are Neon Gravestones, Bandito and Leave the City. The songs within the playlist will be discussed in story order, which is Jumpsuit, Nico and the Niners and Levitate respectively.

Jumpsuit came about in July 2018.  In terms of the storyline, Jumpsuit comes once Clancy has escaped Dema post Heavydirtysoul. Within the song, he escapes and gets recaptured and taken back to Dema. This is shown through the lyrics, ‘pressures of a new place roll my way’, showing that Clancy is in a new place that he has never been in before, which the listener interprets as Trench. This new place can be physical or as interpreted, mental. The narrator is in a new place mentally, and they are having to deal with the pressures of being in a mental state they are not used to being in, or one that they haven’t been in for a long time, as can be described as Clancy escaping Dema, or the narrator escaping the headspace they were in. This can be hard for someone to deal with, hence the use of ‘pressures’ to display this. Clancy’s capture can be represented through the lyrics, ‘I’ll be right there/But you’ll have to grab my throat and lift me in the air’, showing that Clancy is resisting some form of restraint and pleading for more time in this new foreign place he is in, but also demonstrating how the notion of being somewhere, with somewhere being interpreted as a good headspace, can feel so close, and the final hurdle being just too difficult to get to. This can be shown as the narrator understanding that their mental health struggles are returning, so they are pleading with them in a personified way to ask for more time in the good mental state they are in, or pleading to the support network in this ‘new’ place that they will be there at some point, they are close but not close enough. These can all be further shown in the music video. Within the video, it is shown that Clancy has escaped Dema, and gets recaptured under the eyes of the Banditos watching him. The Banditos will be discussed further when discussing Bandito. This song can be interpreted as the narrator having defeated some of their mental health struggles, and leaving the situation only to be dragged back to where they began. It can be interpreted as a cry for help almost, with the music video showing this. In the video, the Banditos shower Clancy with petals which shows that they recognise his struggle and they know of his existence, which is crucially important when someone is struggling with their mental health. This on its own is an important representation of mental health. 

Nico and the Niners’ place in the storyline settles once Clancy is back in Dema. Within the song, Clancy escapes Dema again with the help of the Banditos led by Torchbearer, and is brought to their camp. This is shown within the lyrics, ‘what a beautiful day for making a break for it’ and ‘when Bishops come together they will know that/Dema don’t control us’. The first lyric displays a form of relief, as if the narrator is showing that the day they chose to ask for help is a beautiful day. This can be interpreted by the listener as the day where they ask for help with their own mental health struggles will be a beautiful day. The use of ‘making a break for it’ can be tied to the story in the same way it can be interpreted, as the person struggling can finally break free of their struggles and get away from them. This is all shown in the video, as Clancy is rescued from Dema by the Banditos while the Bishops are performing some form of ritual. The use of ‘making a break for it’ shows that the action has to be done quickly, so asking for help from the support system quickly, or in the storyline sense, running out of Dema through the tunnels. The second lyric ties the song into the story, with Dema being the fictional city ruled by the Bishops. The use of ‘don’t control us’ can be interpreted as the narrator realising, through the use of their support network, that the thoughts and issues that come with mental health struggles do not control them. It can also be shown through this that the narrator is trying to convince other people that they aren’t their mental health struggle, and that they too can overcome it. The music video shows that citizens of Dema closed their windows and hid from the Banditos, so whilst some people were ready, not everyone is ready all the time to try to make a break for it. Overall, this song can be interpreted as the family and friends helping the narrator escape from their mental health struggle, but also how people who are recovering can try to pull other people out alongside them.

Levitate concludes the storyline’s music videos from Trench. Within the song, Clancy establishes himself as one of the Banditos, finding his place and cutting his hair to signify a new start, until he gets taken back to Dema by Nico. This is shown within the lyrics ‘you can learn to levitate with a little help’ and ‘and sever all I knew, yeah sever all’. The first lyric establishes the need for a support system, with levitating being a metaphor for rising above all the mental health problems the narrator is facing. This shows that with the right people, anything is possible, and the ability to understand when you need help and be ready to accept that help shows the next stage of recovery has started. It’s a difficult thing to say that you are struggling and that you need help, but with help you can improve, like the narrator here. Within the video, it is shown that the Banditos are Clancy’s support system, having helped him escape from Dema again until he gets taken back to Dema by Nico. The emphasis on the use of ‘a little help’ shows that the narrator only needs a little help to get started on their journey back from where their mental health has declined from, and the help comes from their support network. It also demonstrates that sometimes you only need the smallest bit of help, however a similar line in Bandito provides a better explanation. The second lyric shows that the narrator is severing everything they used to know about the mental health struggle. This can be interpreted to show that the narrator is getting over their struggle, and by severing everything, it signifies a new start and a new chapter in their life. In the sense of the storyline, this can be seen in the Levitate music video where Clancy shaves his head once he is back in the Bandito camp. By severing, the fresh start is imminent and begins. However, the music video showing how fast Clancy gets dragged back to Dema shows how quickly the mental health struggle can consume and bring the person back to the point where they started, no matter how far into their recovery they were. 

Neon Gravestones is the middle song on the album. Within the storyline, whenever someone commits an act of Vialism and becomes a Glorious Gone, they get buried with a neon gravestone, as seen in the music videos for Nico and the Niners, Overcompensate and Paladin Strait. Within the song however, the narrator doesn’t want to become a Glorious Gone. This can be seen through the lyrics ‘we glorify those even more when they…’. The glamourisation of suicide in this society is a problem, and the narrator in this sense is showing that they can’t even say the word, as everyone knows what could come next. This can be interpreted as the narrator explaining the concepts behind Vialism, but also how those who commit Vialism in the storyline are almost prophet-like and achieve special treatment (see: Saturday). The opposite is often what happens in society, but the person who commits suicide is often seen as a victim, and the victimisation is a problem. Suicide and mental health struggles have become more common talking points in society today, but the subjects still remain taboo and are often treated as gossip. The narrator fights this in the line ‘just pleading that it does not get glorified’. This line has the narrator pleading for if they end up committing suicide to become a Glorious Gone, that they don’t want their act to become glorified and instead to have suicide not be thought about whilst in a dark place, but also that they don’t want to be put on a pedestal and paraded around once they committed Vialism. This can be juxtaposed with the line ‘neon gravestones try to call for my bones’ where is is clear that the narrator has either had or is having thoughts of suicide, and the neon gravestones (the metaphor for the glorification of suicide in Dema) are wanting them to commit suicide so they can be glorified. This demonstration of glorification shows that the media likes to capitalise on the misfortune of others, and displays how they can often forget that there was once a person behind the body. 

In Bandito, Clancy proudly proclaims that ‘I’m a Bandito’. Bandito in this context means a support system, and someone that is ready to begin helping others. Within the storyline, the Banditos are a group of former Dema citizens that have escaped and help others escape and assimilate into their culture. This can be interpreted as the narrator recovering from their struggle with their mental health and becoming ready to be the support system for the next person who is struggling. It could also be interpreted that the narrator is taking the moniker of Bandito and applying it in direct rebellion against the Dema regime, showing that whatever control they had over them is now non-existent. This shows that mental health struggles don’t define a person, only the person can define themselves. Within the storyline, the Banditos use tunnels to get into Dema, represented by the lyric ‘I could take the high road/But I know that I’m going low’. This can be interpreted as the narrator understanding that only someone who has experienced similar mental health issues can help others currently experiencing the same mental health issue. This interpretation can be seen in the music video for Nico and the Niners as well as the Clancy journals, where Clancy makes it out of Dema successfully with the Banditos by going through the tunnels under Dema instead of the other methods he used, for example getting Nico to drive him out of Dema in Heavydirtysoul. By going low, the narrator is getting revenge on Dema and the Bishops, which is simply escaping Dema. Escaping Dema means the offender gets marked as a ‘Failed Perimeter Escape’ or ‘FPE’ and is essentially shunned by the Dema society once back into Dema. Sometimes a small act of rebellion can evoke feelings and joy, so by escaping Dema, Clancy is coming to terms with his struggles and is growing as a person. For anyone struggling with mental health issues, having a support network is crucial. It can be as small as one person, or as large as needed. Knowing that someone is there to help you is so crucial for recovery, so what happens when that is taken away?

Leave the City concludes Trench, as well as the first part of the Dema storyline. Within the storyline, it takes place post Levitate, with Clancy now back inside the walls of Dema and under the eye of the Bishops once again. This is shown by the lyrics ‘I’m tired of tending to this fire’. This can be interpreted as the narrator becoming frustrated of the constant struggle to try to keep themselves from falling back into the issues they were facing, and they have given up the fight against the thoughts. With anyone freshly recovering from any mental health problem, it is all too easy to fall back again, but within the context of the song it is shown that there is no support system easily available, and the narrator is truly on their own, back in the place they started, with no sign of being able to get out. This can be shown by the lyrics ‘though I’m far from home/In Trench I’m not alone’. Within the context of the storyline, the Banditos reside in the continent of Trench which is outside of Dema, and therefore Clancy knows he is not alone as long as he makes it back to Trench. Since being taken back to Dema in Levitate, Clancy has not actually made it back to Trench, but he knows that the Banditos are out there in Trench and he can always get back to them, and back to his support system. The lyrics here can be interpreted as the narrator knowing they aren’t alone in the world anymore, however the support system is just out of reach to them. This can be a real struggle, and one that can be difficult to overcome. The song can be interpreted as one of hope, of knowledge that there is someone to help, but the fact they are just out of reach makes it harder to overcome the problems to ask for help once again. 

Overall, Trench displays mental health struggles through the use of a support system, and how one small cry for help, or ‘sahlo folina’, can help the process of recovery begin. However, when it gets taken away or someone starts to slip back into the problems they were having, it can be difficult to reach out again and that is how the album ends. 

Scaled and Icy

Scaled and Icy takes on a different aspect of mental health struggle. Scaled and Icy diverts from the sound that the band became known for, sounding more poppy and mainstream than their previous albums. With this in mind, the album was confirmed to be propaganda created by the Bishops in the ‘I Am Clancy’ video, where it was confirmed that Clancy had been forced to perform and create ‘for the benefit of Dema’ as a form of punishment for escaping. It can also be said that the narrator is pretending that everything is fine on the surface, but when you read in between the lines, they very much are not doing fine, as the poppy, mainstream sounding songs have some dark lyrics. Whilst almost every song off this album could be analysed, the ones relating to the storyline are Shy Away, Saturday and The Outside. The song not relating to the storyline but deserves to be mentioned is Redecorate. 

Shy Away was the first song released for the album, and also the first song from Scaled and Icy to relate to the storyline. Within the storyline, there is no real story advancement, aside from the music video potentially showing Clancy for the first time since recapture, however this hasn’t been confirmed by the band and therefore should be treated like the other non related music videos. The song however plays a key part in the Livestream experience that was produced alongside the album. The Livestream experience was produced as a way for Tyler and Josh to perform the album until they could tour it due to the COVID-19 pandemic, but they tied it into the storyline, again revealed in the ‘I Am Clancy’ video. The live streamed version of Shy Away demonstrates how Clancy is being controlled by the Bishops, and how they are forcing him to perform the songs that he’s written for their enjoyment. This can be shown when Clancy screams one of the lyrics, when the original recording of the album does not have this in it. This can be interpreted as Clancy either showing his frustration with the situation he is in, or an act of rebellion. Whilst not explicitly mentioned, a line from Lane Boy should be considered here: ‘my creativity’s only free when I’m playing shows’. With this in mind, Clancy’s creativity has been stifled by the Bishops, and as he is finally being able to perform the songs he wrote, he can be more creative with how he performs them. Whilst the quote, ‘Shy Away scream’ has now become an aspect of each performance of the song, it shows that the Bishops weren’t letting Clancy show his creative freedoms. In turn, it also demonstrates how the narrator is frustratingly fighting with themself and turning away from everyone whilst maintaining this happy front, with them shying away from the problem at hand. This ‘performance’ as it were can often mirror how people feel when they are silently struggling with mental health issues and not wanting to worry anyone about it, and turning the fighting internally as to not worry others. 

This point can be brought across to the second song released as part of the storyline, Saturday. Within the storyline, Clancy and Torchbearer are performing in a submarine as part of the Bishops Annual Assemblage of the Glorified and Keons, one of the Bishops, controls a dragon and causes an accident, leading Clancy and Torchbearer to escape. Whilst this may not immediately scream the fact that the narrator is dealing with mental health struggles, it is important to note the lyrics for this song. The lyrics that stand out the most are ‘lose my sense of time or two’ and ‘she said that I should change my clothes’. The first lyric can be interpreted with how depression feels, with the days and weeks flying by and the narrator feeling the same the whole time. This shows that the narrator is experiencing time blindness and by simply not knowing how much time has passed they feel like they will never fully be able to understand the time anymore. With this, it can be said that the storyline demonstrates this point, as Clancy revealed in one of his letters that he was held in a cell and only allowed to leave to create items ‘for the benefit of Dema’. Clancy mentions in the letters that he was there for an undetermined amount of time before the Bishops decided to make use of his writing ability, and they caused him to have sleep deprivation, which can cause people to feel like they’re in a dream-like state. This shows that knowing how time passes is important, and not realising it or having it stripped away makes it all so much harder to realise how long the struggles have consumed the narrator’s life for, and how isolating it can feel.The second lyric can be interpreted as how people may not understand and might believe the narrator is lazy. This is something that happens a lot in the media, with parents of depressed kids simply believing their children are lazy instead of suffering with a very real illness. The narrator is saying that someone else is telling them to get changed, however if we include the lyric discussed above, it shows that the narrator isn’t sure of the time anymore, and might not have the energy to change their clothes. The harmful stereotype can be demonstrated within the storyline during the Livestream experience, with Clancy changing clothes almost every single time the camera cuts. This can be interpreted as the Bishops trying to keep some variety, or the fact they keep changing what he is wearing so he cannot get comfy and refuse to change, also showing how they control his mental state and by forcing him to change, they’re trying to keep the mood happy and not let it show that Clancy is under their control. This can then be interpreted with the overall ‘sad songs but happy beat’ aspect of the album, as the narrator is clearly changing clothes to keep up with their appearance and pretending everything is fine, but only at other people’s discretion. However, not having the energy to change clothes when you should is a real issue that many people with depression face. 

The final song in the storyline in Scaled and Icy is The Outside. Within the storyline, Clancy and Torchbearer have escaped to an island, Voldsoy, and Clancy gains the same power the Bishops have and he uses it to infiltrate Dema. This song can be interpreted as the narrator bringing themselves out of the mental health issues they are having, and getting ready to overcome it once and for all. Whilst this may seem like something out of a Hollywood movie, this can be seen throughout the lyric ‘or am I on the outside’. The lyric represents how the narrator feels now that they have broken free from their mental health problems, and are almost in disbelief of it. They are now on the outside of their mental health struggle, and looking back towards the inside, which is interpreted to represent the state they came from. However, they are also away from their support system and the people that help them. This can happen when the person suffering with poor mental health makes a breakthrough, but isn’t strong enough to ask for help or support and wants to wait until they are ready to. In the storyline, Clancy and Torchbearer are physically on the outside of Dema (the struggle) and Trench (the support system) by being on the island of Voldsoy, and by the end of the music video, Clancy realises he has the same power as the Bishops, and starts his return to Trench to get ready to take the Bishops down. Outside of the storyline, it demonstrates that the narrator is able to push past the point they were at and learn more about themselves, which is the inspiration to be able to ask for help. This can be tricky, as it leaves the narrator vulnerable but they know they can go back into the mental health issues via their support system and bring them down once and for all. 

Redecorate closes the album, and is arguably the track that deals the most about mental health issues. This song can be said to be from the perspective of three people, all with the same conundrum. Should they tidy their room before they commit suicide or should they let it be redecorated? Or, should they make everything neat and tidy and pretend that everything is fine when it isn’t? This can be seen through the lyrics ‘I don’t want to go like this/At least let me clean my room’ and ‘put your ear up to the door, tell me, can you hear him saying?’. The first lyric can be interpreted as desperation from the narrator, almost regretting their decision to commit suicide but feeling like they have no other option. Suicide is often the last point people reach when suffering with very poor mental health, so this can be interpreted as a final call for help, along with asking whether they should clean their room or not. This begs the question, which one whoever is left behind would prefer to enter and see. Alternatively, it can be interpreted as the narrator delaying suicide, by doing something as simple as cleaning their room. By cleaning their room, they’re giving themselves time to think about it and sometimes just a few minutes can give someone a chance to want to seek help. The second lyric can be interpreted as someone from the support system either getting ready to enter before it is too late, or reminiscing on what used to happen behind the bedroom door before the narrator commits suicide. The importance of the verse this lyric comes from is evident throughout the Livestream performance. The songs debut performance was during the livestream, and Tyler Joseph only sang one verse of the song, during the Lane Boy/Redecorate/Chlorine section. This shows the importance of this verse, as well as how Clancy is feeling during the performance. Whilst the song has no ties to the storyline, to have this section here be the only section performed, it shows the relevance and how Clancy is feeling after being held captive by the Bishops. It shows that the Bishops are causing Clancy to feel isolated and alone, and how he feels almost embarrassed to still be in Dema after escaping twice. He’s asking the audience to the livestream whether they can hear what he’s saying, which is another callback to the ‘sad lyrics but happy beat’ aspect of the album, and is asking the audience to really listen to what he’s saying. Redecorate is an important song, and one that should be reflected on by everyone. 

Overall, whilst being the most upbeat sounding album Twenty One Pilots have put out, Scaled and Icy is arguably the album with the most to talk about regarding mental health, both within the storyline and outside. The inclusion of the Livestream experience is important to the storyline, as it shows how the songs can be interpreted differently, but it gives an insight to how Clancy is feeling, but also demonstrating how sometimes it can feel like a performance towards people when mental health struggles are being had, and sometimes, you have to read between the lines to fully understand how someone is feeling. 

Clancy

Clancy, the final album in the saga, presents the mental health struggle as a fight that will eventually get easier, but never truly ends. Within the storyline, it shows Clancy’s journey back to Trench from Voldsoy (Overcompensate), reuniting with the Banditos (Navigating) and going back to Dema to fight the Bishops and Nico (Paladin Strait). Outside of the storyline, the album focuses a lot on how the mental health struggle is never really over, and how some days may be harder than others, as well as reflecting on experiences that have been had and how they help grow and change. Each song discusses themes relating to mental health, however the song outside of the storyline that would be beneficial to be discussed the most would be Backslide.

Overcompensate was released on the 29th of February 2024, and began the conclusion to the narrative. Within the storyline, it shows how Clancy is using his newfound power of ‘seizing’ to educate citizens of Dema about the Bishops, all the while making his way back to Trench to reunite with the Banditos. The lyrics ‘so now you pick who you serve’ demonstrate how the narrator is helping others who were also having the same struggles decide who they serve, which can be implied to mean themselves or the struggles they are facing. Within the storyline, it’s Clancy telling the citizens of Dema that it’s their choice to either stay in Dema and serve the Bishops, or rebel like he has and join the Banditos in Trench to remove the Bishop’s power. The emphasis and repetition of ‘you’ shows that it’s a choice that you have to make, which shows the narrator is making the conscientious decision to help others and tell them that they’re in control of their body and emotions. Sometimes you need someone who has dealt with the same issues to turn around and say you need to get help when you’re paralysed with mental health struggles, so Clancy is not only giving agency to the citizens of Dema, the narrator is also showing the audience that the only person that can overcome their issues is themself. 

Navigating is the next song in the storyline. Within the music video, it is revealed that Torchbearer throughout Scaled and Icy and Overcompensate was a projection and he was simply helping to guide Clancy around, away from Dema and back to the Banditos. This can represent someone willingly putting themself in danger to guide someone they love out of the place they were in, and then once they are back, showing them that it was in fact their doing the whole time. Which can be a positive thing, as it demonstrates how the narrator can do everything themself and has the mental strength and ability to do it, however it can make them feel even more isolated as a result and feel like the person could have done more to help them when they were struggling. This can also be demonstrated through the lyrics, and also showing how Clancy was feeling after the reveal. ‘I know you see me standing still’ provides the image of the person struggling knowing that someone is watching them and wants to help them, and the use of standing still shows that they are either not moving any further or are simply too scared to move any further. This can happen in recovery, where a point is reached and any point further just seems like it’s going to be too much work, and often knowing someone is there will make it easier to do. The line ‘I’m navigating, I'm navigating my head’ shows that a lot of the struggle is within the head, and the ability to navigate out of it requires a lot of work, and a lot of effort. It demonstrates how the person struggling often needs to navigate around the aspects of their head that caused them to be like this, and oftentimes they can get lost along the way without some sort of guide. Clancy in this sense has Torchbearer to guide him, however this can be anyone who demonstrates any sort of help to the person struggling. The music video demonstrates a small group of Banditos guiding Clancy and the projection of Torchbearer through Trench and back to the support system, which shows that the support system is often needed to bring the person back fully, but also relatives and associates of the support system can also guide and help get the person back to the people they love most. 

The final song in the storyline, as of today, is Paladin Strait. This song concludes the album, and provides a conclusion. Within the music video Clancy, with the help of the Banditos, infiltrates Dema and fights the Glorious Gone, whilst Clancy goes inside the city and defeats 7 of the 8 remaining bishops, but gets stopped by Nico. The ending of the music video has left people confused, however it demonstrates how the root of the problems can always be gone back to, even after everything, and knowing that was the starting point and finally being able to face them in the eye means a lot for recovery. The first lyrics from this song that stand out the most are ‘I’m past the point of no return’. Within the storyline, this can be interpreted as Clancy getting to the point where he knows he cannot stop and go back to Trench and he has to fight Nico. The lyrics can be interpreted in the same way, with the person struggling knowing that once they get to a certain point in their recovery, they will have to confront the feelings they had and how they made them feel, and that point comes to everyone during their journey. The second line, ‘waiting, expectations that I’m going to make it’ demonstrates that the journey to recovery is one that the individual has to take. People can only do so much, and the individual has to take the journey alone, with the members of the support network only being able to watch and hope they come out the other side. This is a situation that everyone will be in, either the support network and the individual, and the expectation that they’re going to make it can be difficult, as the individual might not be ready to fight the issues head on, but the expectation they will and the fight will carry them through. There’s this expectation that the person is going to make it out on the other side, but the support system has to wait, which can feel excruciating and difficult. This can be seen in the music video as Torchbearer watches Clancy climb to the top of Nico’s tower, and bring all but Nico down, but Torchbearer stays on the ground, and doesn’t attempt to help, because Clancy, like every other person struggling with their mental health, has to finish the journey alone.  The ending of this song shows that the demons will come back and attempt to pull them back, but by this time in the recovery, they’re not afraid anymore and will finally push through. 

The non-storyline related song to be discussed is Backslide. Backslide, at its essence, is about not wanting to regress back into the behaviours once exhibited and doing anything you can to stop those behaviours coming back again. The lines in the song that stress this the most are ‘there’s no chance I can shake this again’ and, partially the reason this song was chosen, ‘kinda wishing that I never did Saturday’. The initial line mentioned brings questions, however it can be interpreted that the ‘this’ that is spoken about refers to Blurryface, and the reality that Blurryface has made an appearance in the narrator’s life again. In a similar vein, it can be interpreted as a relapse into addiction, as the narrator might have been able to shake it before, but the very thing they’re addicted to has come back and is making it harder for them to leave it behind. This in turn can affect the narrator and how they feel, and make the very idea of recovery seem like a fictional story, but can also be seen in the music video, as it shows Tyler cycling to buy burger buns and then going around in a cycle and ends up back where he started. The second line is more about the storyline, as it makes reference to Saturday, one of the title tracks off Scaled and Icy and subsequently the initial reaction is that it’s Clancy saying he regrets being forced to become the puppet for the Bishop’s propaganda, and as a result the message that the Bishops forced him to promote. This aspect of regret elevates the hatred that the Bishops have for Clancy and vice versa, as Clancy’s escape happened when they were at their most vulnerable, having sent him out on a submarine. To contrast this, it can also be interpreted that it’s actually the narrator, which is heavily implied at this moment to be Tyler, regretting making Saturday due to the backlash received when it first came out, due to the poppy nature of the song and how it’s so different to anything that they had put out before. This is no new thing to happen when a band moves from their typical sound to a more pop music like one, as seen with Paramore with After Laughter. This line consequently shows how damaging fan culture can be to people and their mental health, as this line would have never made its way into the song if Scaled and Icy never received the backlash it did. The impact of the line shows that previous regrets can stay around a long time after the regret has occurred, and can force itself back into the forefront when confronted about it. 

Therefore, Clancy shows the development of the titular character and how he not only learns about himself but also inspired others to grow and change and rise above their struggle. The album touches on addiction and relapse, and whilst the end of Paladin Strait is up for interpretation, and fans aggressively try to decipher what else the band is hiding up their sleeve, the message is the same. Sometimes you have to face your demons head on by yourself to have a chance to defeat them, but there will always be your support system there to help you, and your influence is there to help other people in the same position you were once in.

Conclusion: To conclude, the Dema storyline is simply a reflection of the journey with mental health. It demonstrates that it’s never a straight line, and that setbacks will occur throughout. It also shows that there will always be a support system around, and whilst the support system will always be there to support you, you’re the one that has to reach out, or escape, first, and then they will be there to help you grow and flourish. You can get dragged back, and pretend that everything is fine and act like it’s all fine and dandy, but if the lines are read between it demonstrates how people often put on a front and pretend that everything is fine. The journey of self discovery happens, and then you bring yourself back to your support system and get ready to tackle the demons again. Your support system can help so much, but at the end of the day, you’re the one who has to fight them head on. Whilst this might seem like a journey that everyone takes at some point in their life, seeing the journey placed out in a medium that is not only accessible but also intriguing and fascinating and attention grabbing. When the band posted the ‘I Am Clancy’ video in February 2024, it brought attention back to the band and garnered attention simply because they were explaining it all and heading into the final conclusion. Which might not be the final conclusion. As the end of the Paladin Strait video ends on a cliffhanger, it’s up to interpretation what it means. Personally, Clancy is finally strong enough to face his biggest demon, and doesn’t show cowardice or submission anymore. Others may interpret in a different way. To bring it all together, the storyline takes the taboo subject of mental health and humanises it, pulling on aspects of pop culture and media to create a physical embodiment of the mental health struggle, and gives everyone a character to relate to, because if he can do it, so can you.

[lgcxmimi]

SPRING CLEANING - thru the years

the first year- 2021

emi entered the grand world of korean idol and trainee life as the age of twenty years old, deciding to add the stress and worry of trying to become a star on top of getting into a school that seemed entirely too far away from home. her father had always told her to dream big, and with things at home only seeming to worsen, it seemed she was determined do something she both loved(attention, performing), with something she knew could help out her mom and sister and change their lives in the same vein. in her world, nothing had ever really been normal, but she wanted to give it a try, and she auditioned for legacy, getting into the company in july of that year. she knew it'd be hard, but it was a lot harder than she even expected.

the second year- 2022

cue the balancing act of going to school during the day, and at night, becoming a kpop idol like some sort of secret superhero. she told no one about her activities except for her mom and sister, and from then on, it was nothing but hard work and no play... except there was a lot of play. emi had some experience due to her cheerleading, choir, and drama activities in high school, but nothing could have prepared her for the work she had to do. for the most part, she did *try*, but she got in some trouble too. the scariest part was taking it seriously, and still failing-- so she sort of didn't. it was better to mess around with other trainees( cue hyuk and max here), or stay out late and have a good time. she's young after all.

the third year- 2023

as more and more trainees either left, got kicked out or headed to their grand debuts, emi started to feel left behind, and also, perhaps her frontal lobe may have developed a bit more. with her graduating college, it gave her a bit more time to focus on being a trainee, and really, she was sick of being just average during evals and performances. she was never the worst, but she didn't stick out, which she thinks was probably worse. she spent more time in her practice rooms and less time in her dorm, zoning in on the skills she really wanted to be known for-- her singing, stage presence, and rapping. she made sure to take care of her appearance, and her body, and tried to shed just a bit of the party girl lifestyle, though that never went away completely.

the fourth year- 2024

it seemed that her actual hard work was starting to pay off in a bunch of ways. she was getting recognized more, and it was like a domino effect. it turned out, if she did show she wanted to be here and really debut, she just might. she was chosen for special lgc girls japan project, lgc charms radio, and was in the first selection of hosts to do so, which honestly feels like a fever dream. she hosted for three semesters before having to step down, which was such an eye opener for her. she traded in her clubbing heels for a relationship, and now, even more determined to show she has what it takes.

[openphrase123]

i realize this may not be the best time to ask because of the last post you made, but how do you find the motivation to keep up with so many projects at once? the fact that you can is both inspiring and also very scary and i'm jealous. "average person writes 1 fic in their lifetime" WRONG. ficwriter openphrase123 who writes 3276453287 fics in their lifetime all at once is a statistical outlier and should not be c

oh this answer got long here's a readmore

well first of all. i have a boring dayjob that lets me marinate big ideas on the backburner. i can turn my thinking brain off for 90% of my projects at work. i've been working there for seven years, i can plot fanfiction in my head without taking a single performance hit LOL

second. um. i'm thirty in like four months. that is in NO WAY old, but i have been on this earth long enough to know when i, specifically, cannot execute or follow through an idea. i only pursue projects i know i can reasonably finish without going crazy. i just kind of. know how my brain chemistry works? i have reasonable expectations for myself?? i'm friends with my brain even if it likes to overthink or be anxious or have seizures or go down weird ocd-adjacent thought paths

third, which feeds a lot into the above point. but when you are in your teens and twenties it's going to take you some time to figure out the rhythm of how you work. i like to take a lot of mini breaks in between what i'm doing. this does not work for my girlfriend, who has ADHD and is like "if i take a break i will never recover" so she doesn't do that. brains are all different and you gotta find what works for you

fourth. well. this one might just be me. but the reason i have like 8 concurrent projects is because when i get tired of one, my brain is VERY happy to latch onto another one. no matter what i'm doing, something is getting done?? that's why i was writing 3 fics at once trying to decide which one to do next. and why i couldn't figure it out and had to leave it to a tumblr poll

and, fifth. idk. i don't write fanfiction when i don't want to? if you look at my ao3 account i haven't done it since. like. 2021? and before that the last time i wrote any fanfiction was in like 2013. of which i cannot track down that old accout but i swear it probably exists?

s.sixth??? and this one is going to sound the braggiest. and maybe it is a little bit. i'm good at this? not like. naturally. i wasn't born writing 100k fanfics. but i've been writing fiction for like. most of my life. i wrote a lot of awful stupid shit before i started writing good shit. i'm not falling asleep at the wheel or anything but after you're making art for enough time, it more easily falls into place. after doing it for so long you develop an intuition for the kinds of projects you will be sufficiently motivated for. i don't know how to describe this without sounding like a pretentious asshole. maybe i can allow myself to be for like five minutes. i've earned it

i hope that helped??? my brain kind of just. does stuff. i've trained it over the years to do stuff in the direction that makes me happy!! i wish my brain would let me go clean my bathroom instead but eh. tradeoffs?

[dirtbra1n]

HII good morning time for ask game. Throwing rare ssmy ones at the board. Shirabashi. Hiramiya. uhhh kuresawa tashiro No wait i cant do that to kuresawa. He loves his girlfriend. I WILL do it to ogasawara though. ogasawara x sasaki. And for fun if you have brain power. tell me about ur favorite mairuma dynamics….

HIII GOOD MORNING I’ve still got twenty minutes til noon as I write this part it counts. woke up read this and said aloud Oh sunnfish loves me…. my friends love me………

shirabashi: I get it, it doesn’t compel me*.

*I’m continuing my effort to get myself into these things. this is definitely still following the trend of I’m Not Doing Enough To Mindpalace Niibashi. sunnfish wouldn’t it be really funny if I shoved him into pathologic au. no better way to get me really invested in you than to suffer sundry agonies I’d say.

I think some of the kagibashi points sort of reflect onto the wall a little warped here which is really fun. Why are you tall. why are you so good at basketball. How Are You Single. followed by one conversation that concludes, Oh, that’s why. being someone who knows that shirahama cares so much about his appearance adds some fun color to this too. I think there’s some fun stuff to poke at there I’ll turn the heat up and let it simmer awhile

hiramiya: I get it, it doesn’t compel me**.

**You know. it’s also kind of a lie I think I just don’t follow through enough on putting petri dish miyano under a microscope. like. I think even in a world where miyano didn’t meet sasaki and consequently did not have to reckon with #BisexualityGate. having bl brain is kind of just a by-default queer thing straight up. Yeah I want to watch Hirano senpai and his handsome roommate I know next to nothing about gently and sensually embrace one another. I want Hirano senpai to be on the bottom. I’m normal. This is normal. like miyano can we talk about this. we’re taking this conversation to the hirakagi dorm and you will put the clipboard DOWN.

in other words Someone definitely would have to pitch me on more straightforward hiramiya—it won’t be hard, I didn’t say hirano was the dating sim au game’s default and preferred route for NO REASON—but going by system settings of What’s funniest. I’m 100% primed to skip down the road of Miyano most insane voyeur moments (#1). this is kind of a theme for hirano ships for me actually. Wait hold on HOLD ON JUST. ONE SEC

kagi would be there too. just chilling.

I know you took it back but I think a we got married setup with tashiro kuresawa and yuki would legitimately be very funny. just wanted to say that

SASAWARA: HA HA . YOU KNOWWWW…. probably could go trudge up one of my. I’ll be right back again

ogasawara sex comedy teaser for public consumption. don’t worry about masato here this isn’t about him

being brief It’s the old friends feeling. being verbose it’s You’ve seen me at my worst and snappiest and least tolerable and you still haven’t gone anywhere. you’re so annoying. are you home right now? need to drop off a cd. you’re gonna hate the third track but the fourth one’s gonna make you cry.

I’m always thinking about it. sasaki wanting ogasawara to leave him and miyano the hell alone on their date but the second ogasawara vanishes sasaki’s texting him Hey, where’d you go? old friends feeling. am throwing up all over the floor currently. I Get It. It Compels me.

MAIRUMA. BY THE WAY. love trio are my kids. I think the passive competition between clara and alice is the funniest cutest thing in the world

^ page saved in may-nearly-june 2021.

also Literally every single relationship with iruma involved compels me that’s my LITTLE BLUE BOY!!!! going to come back to this on the mairuma front later on the coattails of either rewatching the anime or catching up on the manga. and then They’ll all be sorry…… okay wrapping this one up now I love you sunnfish

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's Reviews- Witness

Welcome to the twenty-fourth official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Witness, which I have ranked on the "Rotting Flesh Tier" at 2 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was around May 2021.

Hahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahahhhahahahahahhahahahhahhahahhaahahhahahahahahhaahahahahahahhahaaaahahhahahahahahahahhahahahhahahahahhhahahahahhahahahahahahhahahahahahaha what the fuck were you guys smoking ahahahahahahahahhahahaah

Looking back on it though, this one probably… isn’t the worst. It’s certainly generic and aggravating, but there isn’t really anything about it that is outright offensive. I mean, maybe by the Choices standards of the year it came out, it certainly would be trash tier. But as of late, we’ve gotten some *really* bad stuff that gives this one a run for its money. 

A lot of people tend to deem MC as whiny, spoiled, obnoxious, and a jerk to Cassian. But a few others have pointed out that a lot of MC’s behaviors make sense considering she’s just been through a deeply traumatic event (y’know, witnessing a murder) and so it’s natural for her to be a bit messy and irrational and unpredictable, especially when she’s thrown into a lot of less-than-desirable situations. I mean, after suddenly watching a murder take place right in front of you, who wouldn’t be terrified.

Which is a valid point, but also frustrating since we still have zero agency with this character. We don’t really get much say in how our MC responds to or deals with this trauma, and it would be nice to have options because there are different ways people can respond to trauma. But of course we don’t get that, because writing different possible versions for a MC requires actual effort. 

To add insult to injury, pretty much all the options for MC to behave more rationally (as well as this pre-set childhood backstory about how everything her parents did was for status) are paywalled. Choices certainly isn’t immune to highway robbery and paywalling ridiculous things, even in their best works, but for God’s sake, they make us pay diamonds to even eat anything for breakfast or dodge a taser gun! 

Also, the trope of having a MC being protected by a super muscular bodyguard LI is… so fucking done to me. Especially since this app is generally aimed at straight/wlm audiences. I don’t mind if other people like it, obviously, but I’d like to see it switched up for a change. At least let us have a male MC option for this– seriously, this story is very pointlessly genderlocked (Then again, we’d have one side of the fandom complaining about “taking away one of the few games with female locked playable characters” and another side of the fandom complaining about how the MC is “female coded” because they get protected and rescued by a bodyguard, but those are their problems tbh). 

Okay, so why don’t I consider this one one of the worst? Well, even considering the many, many problems people have justifiably brought up about this– the stiff MC, the ridiculous diamond-walling, the formulaic romance dynamic– while those are all real problems with the story, I don’t any of them are outright offensive. Especially considering a lot of the newer books we’ve been getting like Surrender, FCL, and TBB, which seem to give straight up toxic relationships and behaviors a mere slap on the wrist. 

MC and Cassian’s relationship isn’t something I would call a healthy relationship, but I wouldn’t call it toxic either. So between that and the relationships of the aforementioned books, it’s like choosing between prune juice and bleach. Which is pretty much the difference between Rotting Flesh Tier and PooPoo Tier– the former is the equivalent to prune juice while the latter is the equivalent to bleach. 

And, hey, this one is at least a fun kind of bad. People have memed on this one to hell and back for the ridiculous stuff, such as how eating breakfast is paywalled and “Say I don’t like breakfast” is the free option. It at least gave us some stupid stuff to laugh at that will be remembered in Choices history. 

So overall, it’s not quite the worst. But at best it doesn’t really do anything new or special and is just fun to laugh at, and at worst it’s annoying as all fuck.

[roweclementine]

Getting ready to end my Spotify subscription when it expires at the end of the month but I’m keeping the account up so here’s all of my playlists that I’ve made since I joined back in summer 2020

Downloads (the Big One)

2023:

March 2023 (v proud of the cover for this one; can’t believe I’ve been doing these for a whole year)

April 2023

May 2023

June 2023

Fourth Of July 2023 (Rowe’s Version)

august 2023

September 2023

October 2023

November 2023

December 2023

March-December 2023

2024:

January 2024 (platonic breakup season woooo)

February 2024

March 2024

The monthly playlist idea was stolen from @trenchcrows. Each playlist has as many songs as there were days in that month (except when they don’t because some of them used to have Lovejoy/Wilbur songs in them). They were my favorite/most listened to/most looped songs from each month. It was a fun project and I think that it’s cool that I can look back and figure out exactly when I got into certain songs or when certain things were happening to me. November-January was certainly A Time.

Queer Playlists:

Aspec (aro and/or ace songs)

🏳️‍⚧️ (trans/nb songs)

🏳️‍🌈 (gay gay homosexual gay)

Podcast Adjacent Playlists:

Favorite SFBO Episodes

Favorite Podcasts

Songs from Let’s Learn Everything!

Playlists For Specific Artists/Albums:

GLOOM DIVISION (new idkhow album go stream it)

We’re Not Panicking! At The Disco Anymore (by Fall Out Boy)

Everything by Jon Walker (all of the songs/bands mentioned in Everything)

Jon Walker favorites

Waterparks songs named after colors

Waterparks Songs Named After Pixar Quotes

Sparrow Sleeps

Infinity on High but it's my favorite parts (by fall out boy)

Local Dreamers (the Wait I Need to Listen to Twenty One Pilots More So They Show Up on My Wrapped playlist)

American Beauty/American Psycho, but with 9% more Demi Lovato

Razzmatazz, but with 9% more Tessa Violet

Playlists For Specific Situations:

Songs to listen to at the end of the year

Beachy

Therapy :( (Rowe is not having a good time)

Therapy :) (Rowe is not having a good time but she’s trying to be optimistic now)

✨ Seasonal Depression ✨ (Rowe is not having a good time part 3, now with more Christmas)

Christmas Songs That I Actually Like (We’re going to ignore the fact that Every Snowflake is Different isn’t technically a Christmas song ok?)

Relationships:

Breakup songs

Show Me The Door (break up songs; a playlist dedicated to my mother)

/ (love songs)

Hopeless Romantic Bittersweet Yearning (more love songs)

& (songs about friendship)

Spotify Wrapped:

Rowe’s 2020 Wrapped

Rowe’s 2021 Wrapped

Rowe’s 2022 Wrapped

Rowe’s 2023 Wrapped

Rowe’s Wrapped 2019-2023 (I had Spotify in 2019 but was using a different account at the time)

Minecraft:

Fallen Kingdom Saga

Minecraft Songs

The Minecraft Archives:

TMcA

tmca!Tommy

(The Minecraft archives was a mcyt (dsmp/Hermitcraft season 8) tma au that I was working on which I am no longer writing because of Current Events)(I also had a TMcA!Wilbur playlist but I deleted it back in February along with all of my other Lovejoy playlists because fuck Wilbur)

The Rest Of Them:

Saturday Saturday Saturday Saturday (sometimes you just wanna listen to songs with Saturday in the title; here’s a playlist for that)

Favorite Covers

Walmart Radio but it’s the songs I actually like

# (songs with numbers in the title)

Duets & features

Inside you there are two wolves (aka Fall Out Boy are liars)

Eurovision Favs

and finally,

Some Songs That Aren’t Lovejoy:

When did this happen why are there so many of them this post took like an hour to make

[unicausnews]

Ryan Lindgren plans to carry his defensive-minded methods to Seattle Kraken

Ryan Lindgren plans to carry his defensive-minded methods to Seattle Kraken SEATTLE — Ryan Lindgren may come from a household of goalies, however the latest addition to the Seattle Kraken blue line knew from an early age he didn’t have a lot of a future in web. Ryan Lindgren plans to carry his defensive-minded methods to Seattle Kraken His older brother, Charlie, is a goalie with the Washington Capitals. The youthful Lindgren — who signed a four-year, $18 million contract with the Kraken on Tuesday — found out his skills had been higher fitted to the blue line than between the pipes when he was slightly child. “I feel I let in most likely 10 or 11 objectives,” Lindgren stated Wednesday afternoon through Zoom. “After the ultimate purpose, I sort of laid there on the ice and was crying. My dad needed to come out, get me up. And ever since then, I by no means placed on the pads once more.” It gained’t be the youthful Lindgren bolstering the goaltending depth for Seattle. That distinction belongs to veteran goalie Matt Murray, who the Kraken signed to a one-year contract via the 2025-26 season. Instead, the defensive-minded Lindgren, 27, will likely be requested to help a squad that struggled to maintain pucks out of the web final yr. In 2024-25, the Kraken allowed 3.20 objectives in opposition to per sport, which ranked twenty fourth within the NHL. Lindgren was by no means one to gentle the lamp all that regularly throughout 6-plus years with the New York Rangers, nor in his brief time with the Colorado Avalanche this spring. He’s tallied 14 objectives and 88 assists throughout 405 profession NHL video games. Don’t count on both determine to extend drastically throughout Lindgren’s tenure in Seattle. “I’m not going to vary something about my sport,” Lindgren stated. “I simply need to go on the market and compete each night time, do the very best that I can and do what I can to maintain the puck out of our personal web. Obviously, that’s my greatest position, is being a defensive defenseman.” When Lindgren was in New York, he regularly partnered with Adam Fox, winner of the 2021 Norris Trophy. It stays to be seen who Lindgren will accomplice with in Seattle, however he intends to profit from coaching camp and construct chemistry with the remainder of the Kraken defensemen. For as a lot time as Lindgren spent within the Big Apple, he acquired an introductory course on altering groups when becoming a member of the Colorado Avalanche in March forward of the commerce deadline. “Yeah, I feel it’s actually thrilling to have that new alternative,” Lindgren stated. “I performed with Foxy for almost all of my NHL profession, and that was loads of enjoyable. But, now it’s time to maneuver on and play with somebody new.” So, too, is Lindgren prepared to maneuver ahead from a little bit of a down 2024-25 season. Unlike every of his first 5 full NHL seasons through which Lindgren logged not less than a plus-16 ranking, he posted a career-worst impartial ranking final yr. Lindgren described his most up-to-date marketing campaign as a curler coaster, and that breaking his jaw in a preseason sport hardly did him any favors. “That was a protracted, onerous course of to sort of get again from that,” he stated. Now, Lindgren stated he feels nice bodily and is wanting ahead to bringing his defensive prowess to the Emerald City, akin to a willingness to dam pictures. He’ll accomplish that underneath a considerably acquainted face, too, in coach Lane Lambert, who was beforehand on the helm for one of many Rangers’ high rivals, the New York Islanders. “I’m actually excited to play for him and speaking to him yesterday, it was a extremely good dialog,” Lindgren stated. “Just excited to get it going.” NHL: /hub/nhl This article was generated from an automatic information company feed with out modifications to textual content. Read More: https://news.unicaus.in/sports/ryan-lindgren-plans-to-carry-his-defensive-minded-methods-to-seattle-kraken/

[slacktastic]

CLICK THE LINK ABOVE TO LISTEN:

Ahhh, release day…here were are. Finally. (And what did we learn, Palmer? I’m fucked if I know what we did!)

I present to you Across The Milky Way…my fourth solo effort. And ain’t it strange how these things work out? Today (May 9th) is also the 20th Anniversary of the release of Summer Reverb, my very first solo album. It’s kinda like coming full…first…second…fourth circle. Back where it all begins. Point: Universe.

You spend so much time toiling over an album…the endless hours of mud, sweets and fears, to birth some tangible artistic thing…and then when it’s finally out there, you just wanna turn your back and run, get outta Dodge and leave the fucker on its own. You’re free, run along now! What a terrible music parent I am. 

But I guess that’s been the thing all along…I enjoy the creative process, the time spent actually making the music…but once it’s done, I’m the worst salesman ever. I wish I was better at that game. But it’s just not in my DNA. I digress.

Making this album was quite a long, difficult process, but at the same time, it was quick and easy. The long/difficult part was just the amount of time it took to finally make the choice to get on with it…that moment when I finally stopped procrastinating, and said, “Ok I’m doing this…now.”

Stargazer was my magnum opus in 2016. Twenty-two songs…a sprawling double album…all over the map stylistically…the epitome of ADHD in musical form…so much that maybe it should have been two separate records. I put all my heart into it, and I thought it was the best thing I’d ever done. But then it came and went without anyone really noticing. Sure, it didn’t help that I was touring the world with DH at the time, and I am, as previously noted, the world’s worst self-promoter. I promised myself that the next time I made a solo record, I’d make sure to do a better job. Famous last words.

That opportunity very nearly came in 2018, when I put together my little home studio and got inspired, writing a bunch of new songs. I started making a homespun solo album - half new originals, half unusual covers. After I’d tracked about 20 songs total, I decided that it would be split into two projects - a full-length solo album of new originals, and a second album of acoustic covers a few months later. But then the unthinkable happened. I lost all of it when I accidentally erased my entire hard drive. Being the idiot that I am, I had no backup. It was all gone. Erased…from existence! I was so crushed by the blunder, I just couldn’t find the energy to start all over from scratch. 

And so the Stargazer follow-up disappeared from my agenda altogether at that point. I threw myself into the Bastards Of Soul and just started writing songs with them in mind, for the next few years. But as it worked out, for every ten songs I’d write, only a few of them would be considered suitable for the BOS sound, and then I’d have a bunch laying around, collecting dust. 

Three albums and a pandemic later, we lost Chadwick tragically in 2021, and the Bastards were done. I drifted aimlessly for awhile, not knowing what to do next. I took some solace in the ART series, before finally coming out of my fog when I joined Mike and the Knobs in the summer of 2022.

I started writing some new songs at that point, and digging through the dusty backlog of unfinished ideas that had built up since Stargazer. Being in the Knobs was fantastic, and it renewed my energy for creation, but with Mike writing all the songs for that band, it wasn’t gonna be an outlet for my own compositions. By the following summer, I’d found myself kicking around the possibility of recording an album again. 

My friend Jon Mesh asked me to come up to his studio in Frisco and record some tracks, just for fun. I’d been willing, but unable to make it work for my schedule for awhile. Eventually I forced myself to make the time, and drove up there to record early versions of “That Magic Feeling” and “I Can Only Be Myself.” In two days, we had two songs…not bad. It was just me bouncing around the room, saying “Record me playing guitar to a click…okay now I’m gonna do drums…now I’m gonna play piano…now I’m gonna play the shaker.” That’s the way I always do my solo records…it’s all in my head and I just have to put the puzzle together, one piece at a time. Give me a couple hours and I’ll layer all the parts.

The tracks I made with Mesh were promising, but then another Knobs tour pulled me away again. I was intrigued enough to promise myself that, if I ever got another break and even a hint of inspirado, I’d force myself to get back to work. 

I never used those early tracks from the Frisco sessions (I’m saving them for a rainy day), but by the time the new year rolled around in January 2024, I was ready to kickstart my heart again. I actually kept a New Year’s Resolution (for once), and finished a pile of new lyrics, to marry with some wordless melodies I had laying around. And then, finally the moment arrived. 

We were supposed to do some Knobs shows in the spring of ’24, but then they got pushed back to the summer, and I was suddenly at home with nothing to do, for about six weeks. On a whim, I decided to record a couple songs at Salim Nourallah’s studio, Pleasantry Lane. And at long last, a new album was conceived.

I only tracked two songs at Pleasantry, one of which I scrapped altogether, before realizing that I needed to keep my budget within reason…the only sensible thing was to record at home on my own. I wound up booking an extra day, to focus on recording my drum and piano tracks, because Pleasantry gets a killer drum sound, and Salim’s Yamaha upright has long been a favorite of mine. But then I took all the files home with me and decided to do the rest of it in my humble little garage studio, that I’d lovingly dubbed The ART House. 

Over the course of about a month, I toiled away as often as I could, tracking every instrument that popped into my head - acoustic and electric guitars, pianos, organs, shakers, tambourines, pedal steel, and vocals, vocals, vocals! I stacked harmonies over and over like I was fucking Brian Wilson. Why the hell not? Indulgent? Sure. But I tried my best to do it purposefully. Every part was there for a reason. I know what I’m doing, dammit.

It was a totally liberating and exhilarating process, to finally be the captain of my own ship again. It had been way too long since I’d had that kind of freedom. Between the Bastards’ competitive compromises in creation, and the day job of being a sideman for hire, I’d lost sight of what it was like to be my own boss. And here I was, back in the saddle again, and really digging it. 

I finished the production quickly, in about five weeks, between April and May of 2024. I did everything myself, as usual, but asked my son Peyton to play some trumpet blasts on “Hearing Aid.” I knew I wanted it to have a big soul horn sound, so I wrote up an arrangement for him, and he came back to the studio one day and killed it. 

I thought I was done tracking, but then Mike offered to play on it, and suddenly I had to figure out what might be a good fit for him. I decided to give him a crack at both “Hearing Aid” and “Satellite Alone,” feeling that his particular flavor of riffery might suit those two tracks. I flew to LA for Knobs rehearsals and tracked his parts at his home studio, followed by some last minute vocal recuts in his guest house. I was done with it. So I slept on it for awhile. 

I went out on Knobs tour again, making more of that fantastic jet engine roar with Mike and the gang. I got a call in the middle of the summer from DH that changed everything in my life. And then, after another Knobs fall tour with Lucinda, when my album was the furthest thing from my mind, I remembered that it wasn’t even finished yet. It still had to be mixed and mastered, and we still had to get the artwork together!

I’d made my own preliminary home mixes of the songs when I finished the tracking, back before the summer tour, and handed those off to my friend John Dufilho, with the simple request to “just make it sound better, please!” I’m not a great engineer, and I’m sure as hell not a great mixer. But I knew what I wanted. And I knew John could make it happen. John respected and understood the choices I’d made, and he was considerate about maintaining my vision in his final mixes. By the end of the year, after a lot of hemming and hawing and indecision, we buckled down, and finally came away with mixes and a master, courtesy of the great James Driscoll. All we needed was the artwork. 

I knew as soon as I saw Caroline Layne’s picture posted online that I wanted to use it for the cover art. I’d landed on Across The Milky Way as a title a few months earlier, having plucked the phrase from the lyrics to “Angelic” - a song that has nothing to do with stars or the galaxy itself. I’d written a placeholder lyric in its place before, a line that wasn’t very good, and I knew I needed something a little more poetic. After a few fumbles, those four words serendipitously fell into place, and I said, “Well, that’s nice.” It sounded great coming out of my mouth. And it looked fucking gorgeous written on paper. I had no title track contenders. Well, there it is then. That’s the title. And how’s that for continuity? An album that had nothing to do with the cosmos, named after a cosmic flower, followed by another album that has nothing to do with the cosmos, with an even more grandiose, stellar title. To quote Lennon, “It worked because we said it worked.” Goddamn right.

I considered pictures of the actual galaxy at first, but none of it ever felt right...cause the album’s not about the fucking galaxy! It’s about a lot of things, but it’s more complex than that…I'm not sure how to explain it...it can mean something different to anyone who listens, I suppose. From my perspective, it’s about looking into your emotional core and finding your identity again, embracing chance and good fortune, letting go of things you can’t control, reclaiming your own passion and the need to find fulfillment, pondering the what ifs but refusing to sink, lamenting certain choices but still choosing to swim, always in awe of the concept of luck and all its strange forms. The two different-colored eyes in the picture are strikingly celestial in appearance, but also..it’s like you’re looking directly into someone’s soul. It was perfect. It is perfect.

My friend and longtime co-conspirator Don Cento (we were born on the exact same day!) helped me make the package look beautiful, as he always does, while Craig Adams kept at me every day, determined to help me see it through. If it hadn’t been for Craig, I’m not sure any of this would’ve happened. Maybe I’d have put it out in a quiet blip on Soundcloud or something. But no…as fate would have it, we’ve gone the extra mile, and tried to do it the right way. I’m not sure even sure what that means in today’s music business. Everyone knows I am both clueless and useless at the business part of this. But I’m pretty good at making the art. 

And I’m proud of the art that’s out there now, as of today. I hope you will enjoy Across The Milky Way. All I ask is that y’all give it a chance more than once. I can say with all honesty that most of my favorite albums were slow burns…they took many listens to really sink in. I’m still an old dog who loves albums as a complete work - the continuity, the purposeful sequencing, the transitions, the themes, all that shit. Those things matters to me, and I put a lot of thought into it. I think that it might get better for you on repeat listens. So come on, give it a chance, force your attention span to care…it’s only 46 minutes, for fuck’s sake!

That being said, I never wanna hear the damn thing again, I’ve heard it too much. But I will say again, I am proud of it - I did my best to make it a complete and focused piece of work.

I hope you’ll get something out of it…and even if you don’t, I appreciate you trying. 

I promise it won’t take another 9 years for the follow-up. I am already working on it now.

As always, thanks for listening.

CH

May 9, 2025

[nerdofislam]

Why we should seek Laylatul-Qadr on all of the last ten nights of Ramadan

by Shaylhul Islam Ibn Taymiyyah (rahimahullah) Ibn Taymiyah on Seeking Laylatul-Qadr A fatwa from Ibn Taymiyah on Why we should seek Laylatul-Qadr on all of the last ten nights of Ramadan. Translated by Owais al Hashimi hafidhahullaah

When To Seek Out Laylatul-Qadr (The Night Of Decree)

Shaikhul-Islaam Ibn Taimiyyah -rahimahullaah Translated by Aboo Talhah Daawood ibn Ronald Burbank rahimahullaah Shaikhul-Islaam Ibn Taimiyyah -rahimahullaah- was asked about LaylatulQadr, whilst imprisoned in the mountain citadel (in Cairo) in the year 706 H. So he responded: “All praise is for Allaah. Laylatul-Qadr is in the last ten (nights) of the month of Ramadaan. This is what is authentic from the Prophet (صلى الله عليه و سلم) , that he said: , and it is within the odd nights from them However the odd nights may be counted with reference to what has already passed by, such that it should be sought on the night of the twenty first, the night of the twenty third, the night of the twenty fifth, the night of the twenty seventh, and the night of the twenty ninth; and they may otherwise be counted with reference to what remains, just as the Prophet (صلى الله عليه و سلم) said:

Related: The Best Deeds in the Last 10 of Ramadan – Sheikh Abdulsalam Al Shuway’ir So based upon this, if the month is of thirty days, then that will be one of the even nights. So the twenty second will be (the night) when nine remain, the twenty fourth will be when seven remain; and this is how Aboo Sa`eed al-Khudree explained it in the authentic hadeeth; and this is how the Prophet (صلى الله عليه و سلم) established it in the month. If, however, the month is of twenty nine days, then counting in accordance with what remains will then be just the same as counting in accordance with what has passed. So, this being the case, it is befitting that the Believer seeks it out in all of the last ten, just as the Prophet (صلى الله عليه و سلم) said: And it occurs more frequently in the last seven; and it occurs most frequently on the twenty seventh, just as Ubayy ibn Ka`b used to swear an oath that it was the twenty seventh night. So it was said to him: “How have you come to know that?” So he replied: “On account of the sign which Allaah”s Messenger (صلى الله عليه و سلم) informed us of. He informed us that the sun rises on the morning following it being like a brass dish, having no rays.”

So this sign which Ubayy ibn Ka`b reported from the Prophet (صلى الله عليه و سلم) is from the most well known signs occurring in hadeeth; and it is related regarding its signs that it is a night that is “bright, shining”; and it is calm; it is not very hot, nor very cold. It may occur that Allaah reveals it to some of the people in a dream, or whilst awake, such that he sees its light, or he sees one who says to him: “This is Laylatul-Qadr”; or he may open his heart to witnessing such things that make the affair clear to him, and Allaah -the Most High- knows best.” Footnotes: Reported by al-Bukhaaree (no.2016) and Muslim (no.1167/217) as a hadeeth of Aboo Sa`eed al-Khudree -radiyallaahu `anhu; and by al-Bukhaaree (no.2017) as a hadeeth of `Aa·ishah -radiyallaahu `anhaa. The narration of Muslim (no.1167/217) contains the addition that the narrator Abun-Nadrah said: “I said: “O Aboo Sa`eed! You know better about the numbers than us.” He said: “Indeed, we have more right to that than you.” He said: I said: “What is the ninth, the seventh, and the fifth?”He said: “When twenty one have passed, then that follows it is the twenty second:and it is the ninth; and when twenty three have passed, then that which follows it is the seventh; and when twenty five have passed, then that which follows it is the fifth.” Reported by al-Bukhaaree (no.2021) as a hadeeth of `Abdullaah ibn `Abbaas -radiyallaahu `anhumaa. Reported by al-Bukhaaree (no.2020) and Muslim (no.1169) as a hadeeth of `Aa·ishah – radiyallaahu `anhaa. Reported by Muslim (no.762). Posted from PDF www.alitisaambissunnah.wordpress.com Share this, Baarakallaah Feekum: Read the full article

[ayearwithoutwater]

Twenty-six.

Henry, who would later become my fourth boyfriend, was a Tinder match I didn’t remember making.

Funnily enough, he wasn't the first I "forgot." Six years prior, during the heyday of Tinder in 2015 resultant of the then-novelty of dating apps, I "matched" with a boy named Wayne, an artist who was about to graduate from Parsons School of Design at The New School. I could hardly recall swiping right on him, most likely because dating apps are premised upon flash judgments and first impressions, and I gave prospects minutes of consideration before moving onto the next. Regardless, Wayne went on to be my second boyfriend, and being with him inspired such a wellspring of romanticism from me that my personal journals were flooded with sap. So, when I returned to perusing dating apps in 2021, I approached them with less skepticism because I knew that they could work—my own lived experience was but one such example.

The lead up to Spring of 2021 was fraught. I had finally completed my long, protracted separation from Jun, my third boyfriend; the novel coronavirus had joined forces with airtight apartment leases, conspiring to keep us quarantined to our tiny studio so that our landlord could continue to leech passive income from us as the world around us withered. Post-breakup, I had undergone an emotional Odyssey and fallen in and out of an intense crush on Raul, an unfathomably handsome man who worked at Vogue. (I kid not—he was one of the two most beautiful men I have ever dated.) I myself had just returned to New York from Los Angeles in the wake of my cousin's death, a case of vehicular manslaughter that coincided in timing with the nationwide #StopAsianHate protests (one of which I watched, via Instagram, Raul attend). When my birthday in April rolled around, I was desperate for something in my life to change for the better.

As I prepared to turn twenty-eight, I spent that final week of twenty-seven with Stephen, a man I'd loved since the decade prior because he loved me, who'd flown in from London so that I wouldn't feel alone. I implored him to accompany me to museums so that I could search for lifely inspiration amongst art, looking for something, anything, that would flip the proverbial switch in my brain to motivate me, not mentioning that I was trying to mimic Raul and the idea of him in my head. I dragged him to Silver Apricot, a supposedly lauded nouveau Chinese spot in the West Village that I afterwards derided for its extreme mediocrity (it has since shuttered), and I apologized to him for wasting his stomach space (and cash) on such substandard fare.

I felt the specter of thirty creeping upon me. I wanted to be as mature as I thought my age implied, and I wanted to avoid making any more mistakes. All of these men—Wayne, Jun, Raul, Stephen—were either uninterested in or unable to commit to me, and I just wanted someone of my own. I felt suffocated by ennui, frustrated with my ridiculous banking career and a life that was going nowhere. Thus, by the time Henry entered my life one May day, I was perennially in a bad mood.

I was Henry's first date, and vice versa, immediately after we (individually) were vaccinated against COVID-19. I was hesitant to meet new people at the time because, I confess, I naturally have very little faith in strangers and I wasn't willing to risk infection, but vaccination somewhat ameliorated that concern. We spent over a week making the customary introductory small talk over text messages, and our first date came the day after our first meeting, which was (perhaps predictably) a hookup—under such isolating conditions, I think it wouldn't be inaccurate to say that we were both touch-starved. But, he seemed to be a nice enough guy and he was earnest in pursuing me, so I thought that this might have been the universe's way of answering my pleas for something new. I asked if he wanted to get hot pot with me. Of course, he assented.

Henry had a nice smile and always looked put together, and he was agreeable as we worked our way through the hot pot menu together at 99 Favor Taste in Chinatown. Between bites of simmered ingredients and gulps of watermelon juice, I slowly got to know him. Having grown up in Singapore, he was the eldest of three children and had graduated from a Broome County university, after which he'd moved to New York City to be a consultant. He was a diehard fan of Kelly Clarkson, and I would later, after we broke up, listen with great sadness to the lyrics of her song "magic" from chemistry, her post-divorce album, because I knew that he would see our relationship reflected in her lyricism. But, at the time, he seemed to embody the something new for which I was desperately searching because he stood in such stark contrast from Jun, his predecessor.

Whereas Jun was, in my estimation, ever-hobbled by his Peter Pan syndrome, Henry felt like a breath of fresh air. I helped Henry move into his own apartment and he had a six-figure job, meaning that we didn't experience the same income disparity that had so troubled my relationship with Jun. When I vented to Henry my dissatisfaction with my work, he went out of his way to invite me to his networking events around New York and showed me off to all of his friends. Through his caring diligence, he made me feel more special than any other man had done since Alberto a full decade ago. My relationship with Jun had jaded me, but I could feel Henry chiseling away at the stonework.

I think Henry saw potential in me. "You're so smart," he would encourage me, and he believed that I could accomplish anything I wanted because of my fiery willpower. Equally, in him I saw mulish diligence, a trait I envied—he too could achieve any goal through sheer perseverance, something that I lacked. I felt unmoored by executive dysfunction and burnout, and he was steadfast in comparison.

Nevertheless, I dithered. I put off making him an official boyfriend, a label I take very seriously, because I was scared. Things were going well and mostly felt easy, and I was suspicious of our frictionless relationship. Was that how it would always be? He was wonderful, but I felt no passion, and after what had happened with Jun I wanted to be beyond certain. I traveled more with Henry on vacations than any of my priors, we made plans to move in together and plotted out how many kids we wanted to have, and still I vacillated. How was I supposed to know if he was the one? I told him on numerous occasions that it strongly felt like he was the one I was supposed to marry, but I needed more time. I just wanted to keep getting to know him.

A year later, after our breakup, I eventually returned with my tail between my legs to Tinder and Hinge and all the other apps, which persisted in algorithmically redelivering him to me, each time a mini-heart attack and heartbreak all at once. I scrolled through his profile, newly refreshed with handsome photos of him taken by me, and I felt betrayed: by him, by the universe, by Tinder for having gifted him and clawed him back from me. Whereas they were nothing before, his listed interests were now poor imitations of mine, of everything I'd introduced to him and his life. I told my therapist that Henry was a shadow of me, searching for—yet, unwilling to accept—its source, but it was I who was unwilling to accept reality, that he had left my life and returned it to the bog of listlessness in which I was lost before I ever met him. I grieved, and grieved, and grieved. Once more, I felt stuck.

[theghostpinesmusic]

Deschutes River Canyon 2024 (1/3)

I've been lucky enough to experience spring three times this year.

As I may have mentioned in a few of my late-fall trip reports from last year, I've been on sabbatical since September, and though a lot of that time has been spent going to conferences, revising course materials, reading (and reading, and reading...), and writing, I've been trying to build in breaks here and there as well to preserve (or regain?) my sanity.

One such break came at the beginning of March, when, between the end of a months-long streak of reading primary sources and the beginning of gathering that information into a coherent manuscript outline, I flew out to Arkansas to visit my brother, his wife, and their children, then rode along with my parents to North Carolina to spend a week with just them, and finally ended up in Ohio, where I got to see my grandma and aunt and catch up with some old friends.

I could (and probably will, at some point) write a bunch about this trip in particular, but for the purposes of this report I'll just say that in early-to-mid-March, both Arkansas and North Carolina had already burst into spring, to the point that stepping outside of the house to go for a jog necessitated pregaming with nearly lethal amounts of allergy medication. Considering my trip from Klamath Falls to the airport in Medford for my Little Rock flight had required navigating snow and ice atop a mountain pass that normally doesn't melt out until May, it was a surprising (and welcome) change.

I returned to Klamath Falls' late-winter in mid-March, but a week later Lindsey and I were off to the Deschutes River Canyon for a backpacking trip over her spring break. It was my fourth year in a row hiking in the canyon: I first learned about the Deschutes River Trail in the spring of 2021 when, ground down by COVID and various work stresses, I looked for and found a backpacking trip within reasonable driving distance of our house that I could take to decompress over my spring break. On my own, I hiked twenty or so of the trail's twenty-five miles, then looped back to the car.

Unexpectedly spellbound by the area's geography and history, I came back in 2022, and with Lindsey not joining on the hike but offering to help me shuttle a car, I hiked the whole trail through. In the spring of 2023, we planned to hike the trail together for the first time, but bad weather made it impossible during the one week we could get away from work, so we did the hike instead in mid-June. It was interesting to see how different the canyon was in June as compared to March, and I wrote a bunch here about that experience at the time.

This past March, then, despite being my fourth year in a row hiking in the canyon, was the first time that Lindsey and I did the trip together during the "right" time of year. Aside from this lengthy preface, this trip report/write-up will probably be a bit shorter than most since, as I said above, I already wrote a bunch about this trail after our 2023 trip. But, this year's pilgrimage to the canyon was a fun time, and there were at least a few things that I think are worth recording for posterity. So, here we go!

As in the previous two years, we started at the south end of the trail, at Mack's Canyon. The drive to here from the highway is slow, rocky, and a little frustrating, but it is also beautiful, especially as you being winding through the canyon in earnest about halfway through, sandwiched on a narrow road between enormous pillars of columnar basalt on one side and the roaring Deschutes River on the other.

Mack's Canyon has a nice (paid) campground, although we've never used it. Instead, we left our car there to be shuttled by Linda's River Shuttles (they're great!) and hiked back down the road a quarter mile to where the trail branches off up and to the left. You don't have to walk along the trail for long before you've left the campground behind and entered the barren and weirdly gorgeous expanse of the canyon.

Despite being in the midst of my sabbatical this year, I was still excited to get away into the wilderness for my first backpacking trip of the year, and Lindsey was obviously ready for some very serious hiking.

It takes less than a mile for the canyon to truly open up, and for the trail's history as a former railroad line to become obvious.

If you're hiking north from Mack's Canyon along the river, there are a few points early on where following the trail becomes difficult and requires a little scrambling on loose rock. This is because the former railroad line used to cross three steep canyons via tressels that have since rotted and collapsed. Instead, the trail descends into and then back out of these canyons, at points requiring some scrambling on top of the tressels' foundation stones.

These canyons have never given us much trouble, and I've seen older hikers, children, and dogs all cross them without incident, but they are the only three brief sections of this trail's twenty-five miles that I would call "technical" in any sense. So if for some reason you're using this write-up to plan your own trip, just be aware.

In-between and of course after the canyon crossings, the trail is much more straightforward. There is one two-ish mile section featuring a barbed-wire fence that you have to alternate between passing on the right and left, but that mild frustration is offset by the fact that this part of the trail includes some of the best examples of columnar basalt you'll see on the entire hike.

Unsurprisingly, hiking through the canyon while constantly exposed to the June sun is hot, and we remarked right away on how much cooler the trail was in March, with temperatures running lower and a breeze blowing. Just before the final canyon crossings, though, some clouds also blew in and it almost felt too cold. Partly to warm up, I scrambled up a bluff and took a few pictures of Lindsey in the context of the broader landscape.

After crossing the final set of canyons, we stopped for a quick lunch break about four-and-a-half miles from Mack's Canyon. I had packed away the last of a loaf of zucchini bread that Lindsey had baked a few days before, so I dug that out and we shared it. Surprisingly, it had been warmed to the perfect temperature by the sun shining on my pack. I felt like a too-tall hobbit, enjoying baked goods in the wilderness.

We pushed on from there a few more miles to Lockit Camp, our preferred camping spot for the first day of the trip. Despite the trail being chock-full of excellent camp sites with easy water access, most of those sites exist near or past the twelve-mile mark when you're hiking north from Mack's Canyon and with a five-hour drive north from Klamath Falls before we can even start hiking, we typically don't have the time or inclination to try to reach, say, Harris Ranch or Fall Canyon Camp on the first day. If you find yourself in the same situation, you can't do much better than Lockit Camp, about eight miles from the trail's southern starting point.

There are a few tent spots here, and we've usually set up camp on one of the ones above the river, but decided this time to camp closer to the water. It was a bit of a tighter fit for our Copper Spur UL3, but we made it work.

We set up camp and made and ate dinner a bit later than is typical, but it was a warm enough night that not finishing up until after dark wasn't particularly uncomfortable. While we were cleaning up camp and getting ready for bed, the canyon was suddenly filled with the rumble of a train approaching on the tracks across the river from us. On a three-day hike through the canyon, you will often see (and hear) multiple trains. As a big fan of trains, I see this as an added bonus to an already great hike, though admittedly it's more fun when they come through at 3pm than when they wake you up at 3am.

In this case, I had enough time to set up my tripod and take a timelapse photo as the train went by. It wasn't a great photo, but it did capture the weirdness of seeing a train pass through an otherwise wild place at night.

As usual with this hike, our second day would be our long day. We didn't have an exact camp site in mind for the second night, but we usually stop three or four miles away from the Deschutes' confluence with the Columbia, which meant that we'd have to cover thirteen miles or so to stay on schedule.

Sleeping outside for the first time since November, nestled up against the natural white noise machine of the Deschutes, I fell asleep quickly and slept until the sun shone through the tent into my eyes and woke me up the next morning.