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comradelup · 4 years ago

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intertwined.

In the soft glow of Lup's bedroom, Lucretia finds herself talking more than she usually does. And Lup, she listens. What's the point of loving a woman to the point of prayer if you don't get worshiped in return?

ao3

The room is warm, in every sense of the word. The snow outside seems like it’ll never let up, so the heat’s been cranked. The lights strung around the room are shining in a sunset golden glow like fireflies. Music plays softly from a speaker on the shelf, a never-ending lo-fi radio that completes the atmosphere. It’s girls’ night, and the only two girls on the ship are hanging out.

Or… they’re doing separate things in the same room, that’s more accurate. Lup is seated on her bed, her long hair swept over her shoulder as she braids it, concentrating on her reflection in a mirror on the adjacent wall. Her back is to Lucretia, who is on the floor by the bed with a mirror of her own. She’s carefully applying makeup to her face, and she’s almost done. She tends to not wear it if she has no reason to, but Lup is insistent that there is one. She still doesn’t know what it is.

With a purse of her lips to apply the lipstick, Lucretia leans back to admire her reflection in full. It’s pretty, soft edges and cool colors. She finds herself smiling at her reflection.

Then Lup breaks the silence. “Lemme see.” She’s turned around to smile down at her like a kid at Candlenights.

Lucretia looks away from the mirror to present her face to Lup. Her smile softens and she says, “You look great, Lucy.”

Her heart flips in her chest. How can Lup just say things like that, nicknames and everything, and act as if her smile couldn’t make flowers bloom? Stars pale in comparison. Lucretia, a writer by trade, can’t conjure the words to describe the way she feels. She says, “Thanks.”

“It’s unfair, actually,” Lup says, hands pulling a hair tie around the end of her braid as she keeps studying Lucretia’s face. “You’re smart and pretty.”

Lucretia’s heart jump ropes now. “What?”

Lup chuckles. “You heard me.” With her hair done she slides over on the bed and pats the empty space. “Help me do mine.”

“Are you sure?” Lucretia asks, but she’s already gathering up the assorted products.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re good at it,” Lup says. She takes the stuff from Lucretia’s hands and their fingers brush momentarily. For all the flames regularly licking them, Lup’s hands are soft, incredibly so.

“Wait, lemme just… here.” Lup moves around, sweeping away brushes and pallets as she sits on her knees against the headboard. “Okay, I’m good.”

Lucretia lays out the makeup, giving herself time to think. She thinks about what look she’ll do— maybe sharp warm colors to compliment Lucretia, it certainly fits Lup— and she thinks about how she certainly won’t survive touching Lup’s face so much. The other crew members can have her things, let them use her journals for origami. They’ll see her when the next cycle begins.

Her hands move through the motions on autopilot but she hesitates right before touching Lup’s face. They’re close, knees touching. Lucretia’s vision is all Lup, Lup, Lup.

“Go ahead,” she says, voice low due to the proximity. “I don’t mind.”

So Lucretia goes, applying makeup on a face she’s trying very hard to not look at. She has to lean in a bit and tries not to think about it too much when she has to brace herself on Lup’s thighs.

After a few moments of music, Lup asks, “Are you having fun?”

“Of course I am,” Lucretia says immediately, the answer obvious. She cherishes every moment spent with Lup. Even before she developed these sappy feelings that turn her heart to a hummingbird and her legs to jelly. She likes having Lup as a friend.

“Oh. Cool,” Lup says, looking at the wall as Lucretia presses a sponge to her face. “You’re just being quiet.”

“I’m always quiet?”

Lup makes a well duh expression. “I guess I’m just used to being loud when I’m happy. I’m loud most of the time, actually.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Lucretia says, more of a mumble as she focuses on getting this right.

“I know. I’m trying to understand you, is all. Constant silence doesn’t really clue me in on your emotions, you know.”

Lucretia pauses, finally making eye contact with Lup. In a rare moment of vulnerability, she looks nervous. “Sorry, that was rude wasn’t it?”

“No?” Lucretia says, then again, “No.”

“No?”

“No.” Lucretia tilts Lup’s chin slightly up with her pinkie, then goes back to work. Lup looks away again, and Lucretia can breathe. “You’re not wrong. I just never thought about that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Lup says softly, keeping her mouth from moving too much as the sponge is pressed around her mouth. “You have your ways of expressing emotion and they’re fine, just… different from mine.”

“How so?” Lucretia asks. She puts the sponge down and picks up a brush.

“Well…” She thinks of the words for a moment, eyes idly traveling the room. “I grew up around people who didn’t care much. Not Taako, we love each other, but our guardians. Aunts and uncles and stuff. Half of them didn’t want anything to do with us and the other half got annoyed. I had to get loud and obvious to get what I needed.”

Lucretia focuses on her brushing, feather-light across Lup’s cheekbones. The twins have mentioned their past before, in the rare times they’ve let their walls down. Lucretia always feels bad for them, but she knows they don’t want pity. They’re Taako and Lup, who would feel bad for two of the greatest wizards in existence? If anything, Lucretia is envious of their resilience.

“I see,” she says.

Lup makes a humming sound, the vocal equivalent of a nod. “What about you? How weird are emotions in Lucy’s head?”

Half of Lucretia’s mouth quirks up in a grin. Emotions, huh? Tricky, especially for her. “I’m an artist. The weirdest part is the result of my expression.”

“Really? I’ve only ever read your chronicles.”

“I’m not just a writer, even though that’s my passion. I paint, I draw, I make music sometimes.”

“Bragger,” Lup says, fixing Lucretia with a grin. Lucretia smiles sheepishly and shrinks away. Lup says, ��Oh come on I’m only teasing.”

She pulls Lucretia towards her by the fingers, chuckling as she gets Lucretia in her face again. Lucretia lets herself be led— she’d let Lup lead her into battle, she could eradicate the Hunger with Lup looking at her like that— and she resumes her makeup application.

“Seriously though, how am I supposed to tell how you’re feeling? I don’t wanna assume you’re happy when you feel like shit.”

Lucretia shrugs. “I use art to deal with things. I don’t really have trouble with day to day emotions, but big stuff that really messes me up, I use art to get through it.” She nearly wrote a novel when she was accepted into the Institute. She paints night skies when she can’t bring herself to feel anything. She finds herself humming nowadays because she’s so head over heels for Lup.

“I should see more of your art then,” Lup says.

Lucretia nods. She’s hesitant to show people her art, it gets too personal, even if buried under metaphorical uses of colors and phrases. But… it’d be nice if Lup understood her as much as she wants to.

She puts down her brush and picks up a pencil. Eyeliner is… trickier. She has to get closer to get it right. Lup sees her fumbling and says, “It’s fine, I really don’t mind.”

Lucretia looks from the pencil to Lup’s face, uncertain. “Here,” Lup says, taking Lucretia’s wrists in her hands. She gently pulls, guiding her closer and closer, until Lucretia’s hands are placed on Lup’s shoulders.

Her hands move to Lucretia’s waist and the air is sucked out of the room. Lup guides Lucretia until she’s sitting in Lup’s lap, Lucretia’s knees straddling either side of Lup’s own.

“There, we’re all good,” Lup says with a smile. Now that’s just not fair. Lucretia’s been K.O.ed, let someone else into the ring.

Lucretia nods, one hand gently pressing against Lup’s face as the other starts to work the liner onto her lid. She goes slow, not wanting to mess up.

“Can I ask you something now?” she finds herself asking though. The curious part of her commandeered her vocal cords.

“That’s only fair.” Lup’s voice is even quieter. A combination of even closer and not wanting to mess up the pencil right near her eye.

Lucretia hesitates for a moment as if this question could pop the bubble they’ve slowly been blowing during this conversation. “Why did you have us dress up tonight?”

“Hm?”

“You said there was a reason we needed to get dressed.”

There’s silence for a moment, before, “I wanted to spend time with you.”

Lucretia pauses, pencil moving away from eyelid. “What?”

Lup keeps her eyes closed. “We don’t hang out enough. We should be closer.”

Lucretia is shocked for a moment. Lup wants to hang out with her for no reason? Like, sure, they’ve spent time together that both of them enjoyed, but there was always a reason for it. They’re teaming up for a mission, testing out spells together, doing chores. She thought this night was for a reason, maybe Lup wanted her makeup done by someone other than herself. None of the other crew members can do makeup.

But Lup wants to just be with her. Exist in the same space. It’s obvious that Lucretia felt that way, but it’s… it’s good to hear that the feeling is mutual.

“Oh. Cool,” she says, finding herself echoing Lup.

Lup smiles as Lucretia goes back to applying. She says, “It’s cool if you wanna do something else next time. I just thought this could be fun.”

Oh gods, next time. Doing this all over again sounds unreal to Lucretia. Partially because she doesn’t want this night to end.

“I’m up for anything,” she says, and she is.

“That’s good. We’ll coordinate next time,” Lup says, “I know it was weird for me to just walk up to you and ask to hang out.”

“It’s alright.” It’s more than alright.

“I just blurt out random things sometimes. I know you’re a lot different.”

That’s the understatement of the cycle. Lucretia makes sure that every word that leaves her mouth is as thought out as the words she writes. That sometimes leads to lapses of silence during a conversation as Lucretia thinks of what to say next, but the crew is used to it by now. They don’t think twice about waiting for her response.

“There’s nothing wrong with spontaneity.”

“There’s nothing wrong with strategy.”

Lucretia leans back again and Lup opens her eyes this time, smiling at Lucretia. She looks like an angel.

Lucretia kind of wants to kiss her.

…Okay, not kind of.

Lup says, “You should just say what’s on your mind sometimes.”

They don’t break eye contact. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Silence weaves between the sentences they say, letting a tense something build before each response. “Don’t think about my feelings. You don’t have to say it to me, just say it.”

“Why would I say something if I’m not talking to a person?”

“Some things just need to be said.”

Lucretia pauses. Her arms have fallen away from Lup’s face, and the pencil sits forgotten on the covers. Lup licks her lips and says, “You don’t have to practice for me, Lucy.”

Lucretia closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them. “Can I kiss you?”

Lup looks surprised. “Hm?”

“I want to kiss you.”

A beat. “Then do it.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. Her head leans forward and closes the distance between them, her hands following shortly after. Careful of the makeup, she keeps her hands to the back of Lup’s head. Her braid leaves the base of her skull bare and Lucretia cups it with her hands. She feels bone and hair and skin, such simple things to make up a person who makes Lucretia feel so complicated.

Lup kisses her back immediately, hands finding Lucretia’s thighs. She rubs her thumbs in small rainbow shapes that light her on fire. Lup is an evocationist, after all.

Lucretia hasn’t kissed anyone in a long time and can count on one hand the number of times she has kissed someone. She’s clumsy and inexperienced, but Lup isn’t. Lup, ever genius, ever gentle, ever perfect, takes the lead. Lucretia is happy to follow.

She was wrong, Lup isn’t an angel, she’s more than that. Lup is holy and Lucretia is devout.

The kiss breaks when they need to breathe, but they don’t go far. Lucretia still cradles Lup’s skull and touches their foreheads together. Lup's hands move, wrapping her arms around Lucretia’s waist. She smiles, soft, and opens her eyes to look into Lucretia’s.

“You’re amazing,” Lucretia says.

“Says you.”

“I mean it. You’re… powerful and beautiful and graceful and you… you make my life bright. You’re art incarnate, and you’re the brush it’s painted with.”

Lup looks stunned. She leans up and forward to kiss Lucretia again, though it’s much slower than before. It lingers. When she pulls back they’re not exactly eye level, Lucretia’s a little taller from being in Lup’s lap. She watches Lup think for a moment as she plans what she says.

“If I’m art then you’re poetry. You’re… intricate, you’re carefully constructed, you— fuck, Lucretia, I love reading you. You’re so different from me and I love it.”

Now it’s Lucretia’s turn to be speechless. She’s very rarely addressed with her full name, and it sounds like a prayer on Lup’s tongue. She kisses the corner of Lucretia’s mouth. “You have to appreciate yourself too, babe. You write about other people, for other people, all the godsdamn time. You’re art too. Treat yourself like it.”

Lucretia closes her eyes and sighs heavily through her nose. She doesn’t want to cry, not with a face full of makeup and effort. When she opens her eyes she notices—

“I got my lipstick on you.” Her voice is oh so soft and shaky. It’s almost completely drowned out by the long-forgotten music.

Lup smiles. “I can’t seem to care.”

Lucretia finds herself smiling too. “What about this?” She leans in and kisses Lup’s cheek, leaving a mark.

“Oh no, what ever will I do about that?” Lup says, not sounding at all bothered.

Lucretia giggles and kisses Lup again and again. Lips, forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, chin, lips. Lips, lips, lips. They have to break the make-out session, though, because they both keep giggling. Lucretia, at Lup’s lipstick-stained face, and Lup, at Lucretia’s reaction.

“You have the best laugh, babe.”

“So do you.”

“Yeah, if you like snorting.”

“Of course I do.”

They’re leaning closer, gravitational pull, about to kiss each other again. Their voices are so sappy and flirty. Lucretia loves it.

“Yeah, you would say tha—at.” Lup yawns mid-word. Lucretia giggles again at the sight. Lup has no right to be this adorable.

“Are you tired?” she asks, and Lup shakes her head as if the notion is ridiculous.

“No way, elves don’t sleep.”

“You and Taako sleep all the time.” Lucretia’s hands have migrated to Lup’s neck. She reaches a thumb up to massage under Lup’s earlobe, and she leans into the touch, eyes slipping closed. Seeing Lup so tired reminds her that she’s tired too, and a yawn escapes her too.

“Let’s get this makeup off and we can go to bed,” Lucretia says.

They do, taking the time to wipe it all off, still lazily kissing in between. After that Lucretia stays in Lup’s room, only leaving to grab a cap for her hair.

Is it… weird to share a bed with your girlfriend after just getting together? Are they even girlfriends? Sometimes people make out and it goes nowhere, is that this? She certainly doesn’t want it to be.

But those are questions for the morning. Right now, Lup is snuggling up to her, pulling the covers up to their shoulders. She buries her head in Lucretia’s shoulder, taking a deep breath in. Lucretia holds her close, running fingers through her hair as it’s falling out of its braid.

The lights stay on, the heat stays on, the music stays on. In this perfect atmosphere, with a perfect girl in her arms, Lucretia falls asleep thinking maybe she’s perfect too.

#taz #taz balance #the adventure zone #the adventure zone balance #lupcretia #i will revive the tag with my bare wlw hands #balance #lucretia #lup #txt #writing

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yeojaa · 5 years ago

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SUGAR HIGH, chapter vii. (w. JJK)

You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.

alt summary. You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

pairing. jeon jungkook. mentions/involvement of ot7.

tags. angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional baggage, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.

rating. general (for now?)

word count. ~2000

chapter 7. Heal By Myself

He could give you a solid answer for almost any question you asked him. If he didn't know, he'd figure it out. You, on the other hand, struggle with indecision like it makes up 50% of you. (It would be more, but you're indecisive like that.)

You practically float through the next few days, wrapped up in the afterglow of spending time with some of the most energetic people you've ever met in your life. It's as if you've borrowed some of that endless exuberance, letting it sink deep into the rivers of your veins and fill the spaces of your broken little heart.

It's nice to forget - if only for a little while.

When you were alone, you tended to be largely introspective, keeping to yourself despite the capacity for love your carried.

Sure, you'd have girl's night. You'd dance around Yejin's kitchen counter, laughter bubbling forth like an overflowing fountain. It didn't matter if you were trying out a new recipe - which, nine times out of ten went wonderfully as long as neither girl touched it - or if you were sprawled across the floor, a tangle of limbs upon haphazard cushions.

You'd even go out for drinks after work, knocking back shot after shot of Soju like your body depended on it. You'd keep up with the best of them - the men from the other floors cheering as you'd demand another round. You'd giggle with the girls, trading secrets like they were currency and fawning over anyone who walked through the door. What a gorgeous girl! Look at the legs on that guy!

You were never truly unhappy. You'd learnt to occupy yourself when the familiar heaviness settled in, weighing your bones down like lead.

But this was different. This was a welcome effect of the Bangtan Boys.

Not to say their friendship didn't come with hardships.

As much as they lifted you up, they kept you grounded, forcing you through the motions of sharing. They coaxed you out of your shell, even when you wanted nothing more than to pretend everything was okay. You appreciated that about them, too.

"It's nice to see you." Yoongi's warmth is there, gentle against your side. He's propped elbows, eyes staring straight ahead beneath a sweeping fringe, as if he's speaking to no one in particular - but you know he's addressing you. After all, you were the only other person outside.

You suppress a small smile, studying the rapper from your periphery. "Even though you got woken up?"

A snicker fills the air and his gummy smile appears, brilliant as ever. Still facing the expansive sky before you and the rolling hills beneath your feet, you can imagine more than see the roll of his eyes.

"Even then."

The admission makes your heart soar, like a bird released into the mosaic of sunshine above you. You might have been overly sentimental about a lot of things but Yoongi's friendship wasn't one of them. To be part of his little gang, his chosen family - it was a blessing you'd never take for granted.

He was like the brother you'd never known, the guiding light in the darkest of nights.

"But really." There's a pause. "Soo-ah, I know you're not fine."

You want to lie, rebuff the statement with a snort or a toss of your head. It's impossible, though. He can read you like an open book, flipping through your pages without an ounce of resistance. He doesn't press, though, letting the silence engulf you.

You'll speak when you've found your words and how to say them without ripping the wound open again.

"Have you ever been in love?"

The answering grunt is what you'd expect. As forthcoming as you both might be, there are certain things that don't see the light of day. They're the half-formed wishes and broken promises that you want to forget. They claw at your insides or crack your bones and you have to remind yourself that it isn't always sweetly whispered nothings and electricity that restarts your heart; sometimes, it's poorly sewn-up silhouettes where they used to be and tears that leave you drowning.

"Sure. Maybe." You're surprised by his response. You think by taking his hand, extended over the railing alongside yours, it might sooth whatever spectres you've raised. He squeezes your fingers in response, a silent 'thank you'.

"Did you think it was going to be how it was?" There's longing in your voice, strung tight like a noose. "Because I thought I loved him. No, I did love him. But it wasn't like anything I thought it would be. We never spoke. We never laughed. It was like I meant nothing to him - and maybe I didn't. I don't know. I thought he'd choose me. That's what they say, right? You have to choose to be with the person you love, day after day. Love doesn't just happen otherwise."

It happens before you expect it to, seeking purchase in your airways and making your head swim. You can hardly breathe around the misery.

And then you're crying so suddenly that you register the choking sound before coming to the realization it's you. Once you do, y ou're gasping around stuttered apologies, trying to calm the sudden tsunami that threatens to drag you under.

It's Yoongi's arms that hold you above water, rocking you back and forth. "It's okay. We choose you. We'll always choose you."

"You look like a goldfish."

The off-hand comment tears you from where you've been twisting your bracelet round and round your wrist. "Excuse me?"

Jungkook flops onto the couch beside you, long limbs edging into your personal space like they belong there. "You've been crying. Your eyes are all fish-like," he quips. "It's funny." But you know there's concern there, hiding just behind the wall of teasing. You feel it when he pulls your disregarded bucket hat over your ears, tugging edges low over your temples.

You want to thank him but you're worried you'll start crying again.

Instead, you pull at the sleeve of his sweater - another oversized monstrosity that smells so good - and melt against his side. Your hat shields his vision, hiding you from his probing gaze, but he doesn't mind. He likes the way you relax against him, shoulder fitting into the space of his arm like he was made for you.

"Yoongi-oppa gave me a talking to," you relent, embarrassed. You shouldn't be.

"Hyung's smart. You should listen to him."

He's probably right and that's probably why you feel lighter. It's the first time you've let yourself talk about this to someone - really talk about it - and while it'd felt terrible when you'd extracted yourself from Yoongi's arms, patting in apology at the damp cotton of his shirt, you'd also felt relief.

"He told me that no matter who comes and goes, I'll always have you."

By the way Jungkook squeezes you, engulfs you in that familiar feeling of home, you know it's true.

"How's work today?"

There's static clinging to his words, filling your ear as you flick through racks of clothing. It's unfortunate today's location was situated in a basement. It just meant the signal was godawful, his voice breaking every five seconds.

Still, it's nice to hear from him, even if you can't really hear him.

"I didn't bring a coat and it's too cold on set. I've accidentally knocked over three props already." You don't mind, not really. You liked working - it gave you something to think about other than the emptiness of your apartment and the echo in your chest. "There are some really nice pieces, though. There's this sweater I think you'd like. I can see if they'll let me take it home."

You can imagine Taehyung in the lush camel-coloured crewneck. He'd let the sleeves hang over his fingers and tuck the diagonal hem into the front of his pants. It'd stand in nice contrast to those wide-legged trousers he was so keen on.

"Sure. Dress me up like a doll." Your long-distance companion muses around a yawn.

There's rustling in the background and the sound of voices muffled behind a wall. He must be getting ready for an appearance by the relative silence. It would never be that quiet in the car or at the apartment. He's probably early, too, as always, and being on the phone with you kills time. You're happy to keep him occupied. Your models weren't slated to show up for another fifteen minutes, anyways.

When you hear the bang of a door and a chorus of ''Taehyungie~' in the background, though, you know it's time to go. The familiar dulcet tones of each member are already drifting through the airwaves. Seokjin is complaining about something and Hoseok is guffawing.

"Tell everyone I say hi!" You sing into the receiver before you're gone.

Just as instructed, Taehyung regales the others with your greeting. "Soomi says hello."

"What! Why didn't you let us say hi!" Jimin, of course, indignant and adorable as always. He's settling into his chair, head cocked to the side in curiosity before it's being gently chided back into place by the hands of his makeup artist. "What was she doing?"

"Working. She hung up before I could give you the phone." A sardonic smile shared as concealer presses into the hollows around his eyes, over the slope of his nose. "She said she didn't want everyone to break her eardrums with your yelling." It's not the truth, and yet it could be. As much as you loved those boys, sometimes you felt like you had tinnitus after a conversation with them.

The dancer looks like he might pout but says nothing.

Instead, the conversation steers towards their plans for the day, where they have to be and by what time. It ebbs and flows between each member, lead by Namjoon as he flicks through his phone. Eventually, the questions subside and each member is carefully turning their cheeks this way and that, allowing for better coverage of powder and shadow.

Across the room, seated by the wall farthest from the door, Jungkook blinks away ash that spills over his lids. A quick swipe here, a ghost of silken bristles there. He thinks about messaging you and asking if you've eaten. You had a habit of forgetting to eat when you were busy, or stressed, or upset.

He'll do that once his face is done.

You beat him to it, though, your name flashing across his screen the moment a stain is being pressed to his lips. He almost grins, ruining the painstaking blending, but catches himself before it's too late. "Thank you," he mumbles, chagrined but preoccupied.

When he unlocks his phone, there's a photo of you beside... a stuffed animal? It's a bunny rabbit with long legs and soft, heather grey fur. The ears are floppy but thin, curving over the toy's face. Its got big beaded eyes and a little button nose. It's cute, if not a little squished due to the fact it's pressed against your cheek.

The caption makes him snort. Your competition, Jungkookie!

If only that were the case, he thinks.

Instead, he's got living, breathing people vying for your attention. Sure, not right now, in this instant, but he knows they're there. He's seen it firsthand when you've stepped out of the sanctuary of your homes together, keen on adventure.

Even with a face mask pulled across your mouth, you garner attention. Maybe it's the clothes you wear - the transparent silk blouse under the tiered patterned dress with the stacked Comme des Garçons sneakers - or the way your eyes twinkle when you're happy, whether it's because you've spotted a cat in a window or you're taking your first sip of coffee.

All he knows is god, how he wishes that suffed rabbit was his only competition.

( 11.23am ) jeon jungkook: he's got nothing on me!

( 11.23am ) jeon jungkook: watch it punk

He imagines you're laughing by the way the chat bubble pops up and disappears a few times. You were terrible at multitasking.

( 11.25am ) paksom: i'm not a punk! you've hurt my feelings

( 11.25am ) paksom: mr. tokki is definitely my new best friend

( 11.26am ) paksom: rip

The perfect sticker is being sought out when your last message comes through, disrupting his search.

It's a joke, obviously, but he can't help the way it makes him feel.

( 11.29am ) paksom: g2g! borahae ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

notes. inspiration for this chapter came from colde's "WA-R-R" which you should definitely also listen to.

i'm at a bit of a crossroads in terms of how i want this to go. if anyone has any suggestions, throw them at me. i'm begging you. i love fluff but angst. ANGST!

also, italics indicate a flashback/the scene not being present, if that wasn't clear.

#bts fluff #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #work.zip #bestfriends.zip #sugarhigh.doc #jungkook.doc

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dustedmagazine · 5 years ago

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Listed: Horse Lords

Baltimore-based Horse Lords have been forging their own take on experimental rock music since 2012. The quartet, Andrew Bernstein (saxophone/percussion), Max Eilbacher (bass/electronics), Owen Gardner (guitar) and Sam Haberman (drums) weave together pieces drawing on divergent sources that include everything from 20th and 21st century classical music to just intonation tuning to African and Appalachian musical traditions to intricate polyrhythms and studio experiments. In a recent interview, Gardner talked about their approach to putting pieces together. “We generally write right up to the edge of our abilities. And sometimes slightly beyond. We’d had to scrap quite a few songs because they proved to be basically impossible to play... It keeps it interesting.” Ian Forsythe covered their newest release, The Common Task, noting that “Their nearly ten-year core pivots rhythmic and tonal ideas athletically, and their ability to pull elements from anywhere and everywhere is seemingly more fluid with each record.”

For this Listed, the four members runs down a list of live shows, recordings, blogs, movies, and books that have been on their minds.

Gleb Kanasevich plays Horațiu Rădulescu’s “Inner Time II for seven clarinets (Op.42b),” Baltimore. 2018 (Owen Gardner)

youtube

A near-hourlong ear workout, combining impressive sonic and structural brutality. The interaction of what these close dissonances do inside your ears with what the clarinets do in space (Gleb played live with 6 recordings of himself, meticulously arranged around the audience) is a haunting experience, celestial but with no concession to human music.

Maryanne Amacher — Perceptual Geographies, Philadelphia 2019 (Owen Gardner)

https://issuu.com/bowerbirdphilly/docs/amacherprogramonline

So much revelatory material has come out of the Maryanne Amacher archive so far, and particularly these loving reconstructions of her instrumental music. A lot more attention seems to have been given to “Petra,” which is certainly gorgeous and shows fascinating symmetries with the spatial/timbral concerns of her electronic music, but “Adjacencies” struck me as the Major Work of 20th Century Music. She wrote the damn thing in 1965 and it sounds fresh half a century later, which we can say of no previous piece of percussion music and not much written subsequently. I am slowly losing my mind waiting for Amy Cimini’s book on Amacher to come out, craving a deeper dive into her theory and methods.

Sarah Hennies, Bonnie Jones, Lê Quan Ninh, and Biliana Voutchkova at the High Zerofestival, Baltimore 2019 (Owen Gardner)

youtube

One of at least three great things Sarah Hennies did last year (Reservoir 1 on Black Truffle and the 90 minute cello/percussion duo “The Reinvention of Romance” being the others) was to take part in Baltimore’s High Zero festival, four mind-frying days devoted to free improvisation. This set was one of the highlights of 2019’s festival; each of the four performers having at least one foot in composed music (Ninh is a long-time Cage interpreter and Biliana has collaborated with Peter Ablinger) seemed to lend it a certain sureness and serenity, but ultimately their combined strength as improvisors (fastidiously captured by High Zero’s crack recording team) is what makes it such an engaging listen.

El Chombo — Cuentos de la Cripta (Owen Gardner)

youtube

A relentless tetralogy that nicely balances the rawness of ‘90s proto-reggaetón productions (the first volume self-identifies as “Spanish Reggae”) and the slicker, synth-oriented sound and settled genre conventions we’ve come to enjoy (or not) in the 21st century. This was helpful when working on “People’s Park,” not least for its insistent connection to Jamaican music. I can understand very little Spanish but I'm guessing the lyrics are not unproblematic; signifying language always disappoints.

Wallahi Le Zein! (Owen Gardner)

http://thewealthofthewise.blogspot.com/

An invaluable resource for anyone interested in African music, much more consistent and informative than the often yucky reissue market, which seems to prioritize awkward (and marginal) attempts at Western musical fads—as if what was available was not an impossibly rich and heterogeneous network of self-sufficient musical cultures but merely a broken mirror facing America. The archive of Mauritanian music alone makes this the most worthwhile stop on the information superhighway. There’s plenty of goofy drum programming and appalling sound quality if that’s your bag, but the rich variety of traditional musics is what keeps me coming back.

Miles Davis — On the Corner (Max Eilbacher)

youtube

Some might say Stockhausen serves imperialism but he did his little part to help cook up some of the most twisted American Jazz/funk jams ever. Davis only kept one cassette in his convertible sports car during the On the Corner sessions, a tape of “Hymnen.” He would take each member of the band on highspeed joy rides with the car’s stereo system on full blast. That same energy was channeled in the arrangement and editing. The convergence of a lot of different elements keeps this record on my top 10 list ‘til the end of time. The little detail of Americans taking concepts from European Neu Musik and making something incredibly funky and pleasurable is the cherry on top.

Olivia Block & Marcus Schmickler at Diffusion Festival, Baltimore 2018 (Andrew Bernstein)

This was an amazing pairing, with both artists playing in 8-channel “surround sound.” Marcus’ set was incredibly intense. Pure synthesis with a lot of psychoacoustic inner ear tones and unending overlapping melodies. It felt like the sonic equivalent of watching a strobe light at close distance. Olivia’s set was a slow creep, laying samples to create lush textures that were truly immersive. This was the kind of concert that reminds you of the awesome power of music.

Blacks’ Myths at the Red Room, Baltimore 2019 (Andrew Bernstein)

Blacks' Myths II by Blacks' Myths

I’m there for anything bassist Luke Stewart touches (see Irreversible Entanglements, his solo upright + feedback work, frequent collaborations with too many people to name). Blacks' Myths, his bass and drumset duo with Warren Crudup, is loud, noisy, and intense, and this set at the Red Room last year was particularly transcendent.

“Blue” Gene Tyranny — Out of the Blue (Andrew Bernstein)

Out of the Blue by "Blue" Gene Tyranny

I have probably listened to this record more than any other the last few years. Perfectly crafted pop songs segue into proggy funk jams and then into stream of consciousness drone pieces based around the doppler effect. I’ll put it on over and over again, an experience with an album I haven’t really had since I was in high school.

Bill Orcutt — An Account of the Crimes of Peter Thiel and His Subsequent Arrest, Trial, and Execution 2017 (Max Eilbacher)

AN ACCOUNT OF THE CRIMES OF PETER THIEL AND HIS SUBSEQUENT ARREST, TRIAL AND EXECUTION. by BILL ORCUTT

Legendary underground American guitarists from the most important American rock band also makes top notch conceptual digital audio art. Years ago I thought computer music lacked a certain sub cultural attitude. While this was/is not true, this 2017 release feels like it exists in its own world. High and low brow are in perfect harmony for this patterned enjoyable hellride of a listen. What if Hanne Darboven had to make art while working a full time job and dealing with mild substance abuse?

Lina Wertmüller — Seven Beauties 1975 (Max Eilbacher)

By Source, Fair use, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42000553

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seven_Beauties

During this pandemic I have been talking film shop over emails nonstop. I went through a big Wertmüller phase in 2018-2019 and as people are trading recommendations I usually try to recommend something by her. This film is the one that I keep reaching for. The email recommending this film usually starts as a draft with “this is really intense” and then I try to hearken back to my film school days and write about the male gaze, patriarchy, communism or something of that nature. I end up writing a bit, feeling like it’s way over the top for a casual email and then I end up deleting everything except “this is a really intense and beautiful film.”

Chaos: Charles Manson, the CIA and the Secret History of the Sixties by Tom O’Neill (Sam Haberman)

https://www.littlebrown.com/titles/tom-oneill/chaos/9780316477574/

The last book I managed to check out of the library before it closed. Though it in some ways resembles works of conspiracy theory, Tom O’Neill is always straightforward in telling the reader that, though the official story of the Manson case is almost certainly not true, the actual details don’t cohere into any kind of Meaning. Every new discovery is its own digression that points to a new unknowable truth or unverifiable claim. This really inverts the normal thrill of conspiracy theory, which invites you to either buy into the story being presented or reject it all together, either path offering its own sort of comfort. Chaos offers no such comfort.

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skiasurveys · 5 years ago

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447

.1 First thing you wash in the shower? - my body ..?

2. Are you more of a coffee or alcohol drinker? -alcohol i guess..but neither

3. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? - yes hes my bf

4. Do you plan outfits? -depends on where i am going or what im doing! sometimes i don’t but if i’m going out with friends i do

5. How are you feeling RIGHT now? - annoyed

6. Whats the closest thing to you thats red? - my phone

7. What would you do if you opened your door and saw a dead body? -i would freak out and most def call 911

8. Tell me about the last dream you remember having? - i was with my dad who is dead and i was crying bc i was like he’s not alive idk lol weird

9. Three of your current feelings? - Tired, annoyed, sad

10. What are you craving right now?Nothing rly.

11. Turn ons? - i answer these too much

12. Turn offs? - ^

13. What comes to mind when I say cabbage? - food

14. When was the last time you cried? Why? -tonight

15. If you could be a superhero, who would you want to be? - idk

16. Did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? - not really.

17. Do you bite into your ice cream or just lick it? - both but lick usually cus my teeth r so sensitive

18. Favorite movie ever? - the lion king

19. Do you like yourself? - no

20. Have you ever met a celebrity? - Nope

21. Could you handle being in the military? - no

22. What are you listening to right now? - futurama

23. How many countries have you visited? - one

24. Are your parents strict? - Kinda

25. Would you go sky diving? -never lol

26. Would you go out to eat with a stranger? - maybe..

27. Whats on your mind right now? - nothing

28. Is there anything you want to say to someone? -yeah there is

29. Have you ever been in a castle? - nope i want to

30. Do you rent movies often? -no

31. Whats your zodiac sign? - Sagittarius

32. When was the last time you had sex? - tonight

33. Name five facts about yourself. - 1) im canadian 2) im an artist 3) i got hit by a car 4) i do youtube 5) idk

34. Ever had a near death experience? If so, what happened? -yeah i almost fell of a bridge lol and i got hit by a car

35. Do you believe in karma or predestiny? - not really

36. Brown or white eggs? - white..?

37. Do you own something from Hot Topic? -Pop funko toys and some tees

38. Ever been on a train? -yes

39. Ever been in love? - currently am.

40. If you were paid 1 million dollars to spend the night in a supposed haunted house, would you do it? - Yes.

41. If you could trade places with any person living or dead, who would you trade places with? - Maybe a youtuber lol

42. If you could shorten your life expectancy by 10 years to becopme more attractive, would you do it? - Maybe hahaha

43. Whom do you admire and why? - gabbie bc she’s gone through so much and is successful

44. What was your favorite bedtime story as a child? - didn’t have one

45. You’re walking down the street, you come across a burning building. A woman says her baby is trapped inside, what would you do? - try and help or call 911. i’m not equipped to go in but i would do my best

46. If you could choose the future profession of your son or daughter, would you? - no bc i want them to have the choice to do what they love

47. What was your best experience on drugs or alcohol? -idk just having friends

48. What was your worst experience on drugs or alcohol? panic attacks

50. As your walking down the street you find a suitcase full of money sitting next to a parked car, would you take it? - No

51. If you found that a close friend has AIDS, would you still hang out with them? yeah of course i would.

52. In front of you are 10 pistols, 5 of which are loaded. If you survive you’d receive 100 million dollars. Would you be willing to place 1 to your head and pull the trigger? - sure i already hate my life so if i die whatever and if i get 100 million great lol

53. How old were you when you lost your virginity? - 19

54. Do you believe in ghosts, werewolves or vampires? - No

55. If you could live forever, would you want to? - No

56. Which fictional movie character most resembles who you are? - idk

57. If you could go back in time, which time period would you visit? - maybe the 70/80s

58. If they were to televise a live execution, would you watch it? - No.

59. If you could be the president of the USA, would you be willing to do it? - No too much pressure hahah

60. If you could choose the sex of your unborn child, would you want to? - yeah sure why not

61. Would you rather live longer or be wealthy? - wealthy

#survey #surveys #questions #questionaires

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rmg91 · 5 years ago

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The Woes and Antics of Living Together-12

So here's a bit I've been waiting to write! It fought me a little but I think it turned out in the end c: Also sorry for any inaccuracies for the main thing this chapter's about, I did what research I could but sometimes real life experience is better for things and well...I haven't gotten a tattoo yet XD Oops? Did I just give away what happens? Guess you'll have to read and find out ;)

Enjoy!

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3/FF.net

@writerofberk The next chapter is out and Branch is a good (boy)friend to Poppy!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Poppy sat in the park one bright and clear afternoon a few days later, scrapbook laid out in front of her as she cut out decorative pieces of paper out. The last few days had been spent silently arguing with Branch by trading his shirt back and forth. She'd had given back, as much as she had really wanted to keep it, and the next day found it laying on her bed. When confronted, Branch reiterated that he had said it was fine if she kept it. Except it clearly wasn't as he wouldn't even look at her when he said it! So the two had been shuffling it back and forth and she was gonna make sure he kept it or so help her-! Taking a deep breath, she was out here scrapbooking as a stress relief after all, the pinkette tapped her phone to play some music as she mused what to do with the current page.

It wasn't long before she was pulled from her musings with a shout of her name, “Poppy!”

Looking up, she grinned at the sight of her friends coming over, “Hey, guys! What's up?”

“Look who's here!” Satin crooned, pulling one teal haired, extreme sports expert over.

“Oh my gosh!” Poppy squealed, jumping up for a hug, “Ripley! Hey!”

“Hey yourself, Popstar~” Ripley greeted with a wink.

Ripley Turner was a twenty-three year old extreme sport enthusiast and an old high-school friend of the Snack Pack. She made a living off of blogs about all the various sports and activities she did and in turn got to travel the world. It was a rare event for her to decide to show up in Bergenville.

“What you doing here?” Poppy asked excitedly.

Ripley smirked and nudged Satin, “Came to see my favorite designer of course~” Satin blushed and giggled as Chenille rolled her eyes, “And her equally cool sister.”

“Thanks, Ripley.” The older twin said with a bit of sass before sitting by Poppy. Prompting Guy, Suki, Smidge and Biggie to do the same.

Before Poppy could ask anything else, Satin was bouncing up and down, “Oooh~! Show her!”

“Show me what?”

Ripley chuckled and turned to raise a bit of her tank up, “Check it!” She had revealed a new tattoo, one of many, of a pink scaled mermaid with teal hair cradling a large gem stone.

“Wooow.” Poppy awed before grinning at the older woman, “Very nice.”

The conversation moved on from there to some of Ripley's adventures and on goings. She had been surfing down in the tropics and was heading to the mountains next to do some free climbing. Of course, she first had to come to the Couture twins, or rather Satin, before speeding off to her next quest. Poppy insisted they have a little party and go clubbing before she had to leave to which Ripley happily agreed. It was after that, she and Satin went to go skateboarding leaving the rest of the group to chat.

Once they were gone, Chenille slumped on the table and buried her head in her arms with a groan. The rest the Pack chuckled sympathetically as Biggie patted her back. It was well known throughout their group how much Chenille put up with when the sporty woman was around.

“I love Ripley, I do! And I know Satin does too,” She groaned, “But I am not looking forward to the post Ripley Departure depression.”

“Don't worry, Chenille.” Biggie consoled, “We'll help cheer Satin up, like always.”

“Yeah, we've gotten pretty good at it.” Smidge boasted, “Isn't that right, Poppy?”

“Yeah, uh-huh,” Poppy distractedly replied, phone held steady in her hands as she looked at pictures.

Suki leaned over her shouldered and chuckled, “She's scrolling again.”

“I'm gonna do it this time, you guys. I mean it!” Poppy had decided a long time ago she had wanted a tattoo and seeing the newest one of Ripley's had made her determined to finally commit to have an image forever etched into her skin. If only she could choose something! There were so many great choices! Hearts, butterflies, cats, pride symbols, fish, mermaids, she could even get one of her little troll-self if she wanted! She just couldn't decide and it was driving her crazy!

Guy laughed lightly, “We've all heard that one before. What are the choices this time?”

“Uugg! Too many!” And the pinkette folded onto the table to groan into her scrapbook, “Help me.”

“Well...” Biggie started, looking pensive, “Perhaps you should first choose what category you'd want? Cute, fancy, abstract. Something with words maybe?”

“Yeah!” Smidge cheered, “You could get something with your fave lyrics!”

“With some music notes! Or a guitar?” Suki suggested.

“Perhaps maybe something immortalizing someone special?” Guy prompted, “Like Fuzzbert.”

Poppy groaned again, those were all such great ideas! She loved music but deciding on favorite lyrics? She loved too many different songs to choose just one. She liked the music note idea but thought they'd really go best with some lyrics. She loved her cat but immortalizing him on her skin...didn't feel right. “I don't knoooooow....”

“Oh!” Chenille exclaimed, “Why not get one of those cupid hearts? With the arrow going through it?” She then giggled, “With yours and Creek's names in it?”

Poppy looked up at Chenille, blush dusting her cheeks, “Oh...That's...good...” She didn't hate that idea, “But...Creek and I aren't actually together yet. I donno if I should...”

“You so should!” Cheered Chenille, the rest of their friends nodding in agreement, “It'd be so romantic.”

“And maybe then he'd finally ask out for real!” Added Smidge.

“And you could live happily ever after~” Cooed Biggie.

“Well....” Poppy bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too much. Smidge had a point, maybe it'd be the final push for Creek to finally ask her to be his girlfriend.

“You know you want to, Pops...” Needled Suki, elbowing her.

“Oh yes. You so do.” Added Guy, smirking.

Poppy whined low in her throat before crying out, “Okay, okay! I do! I want to do that idea!” She giggled happily as her friends cheered, “Think you guys can help me keep it a secret until I get it? Oh! I should ask him to come with me when I get it!”

“Yes!”

“Totally!”

“Okay!” Poppy said with determination, “I'll ask Creek to come with me when I get my first tattoo but first...Help me design it?”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“You're going to do what?!”

Poppy rolled her eyes at Branch's expected reaction to hearing she was getting a tattoo. She had brought it up while they did the dishes that evening. Although she hadn't told him what she was getting yet, she wanted it to be kept as secret as it could before she actually got it. Not that she thought Branch would go and ruin the surprise to Creek, she just wanted to keep the final design to herself until she got it. Plus Branch always got so weird whenever she talked about Creek and she just had a feeling he'd be even more adamant she not get it once he heard who she was getting it for.

Branch couldn't believe Poppy wanted to do something so ridiculous and irresponsible...Okay he could, she'd done things like that before but a tattoo?! That was permanent! It be with her for the rest of her life! Didn't she know all the risks involved?! Then of course there was the question of what if she changed her mind? She could never change it or remove it! It was a terrible idea.

“Poppy.” He said seriously, looking her in the eye, “Don't you know what bad idea this is?! It's permanent! You can never get it removed! What if the artist does a terrible job, hmm? What if you flinch and gets ruined? What if they don't sterilize the needles correctly and you get an infection?!” He waved his hands around, “This isn't like the time you drew cupcakes all over yourself and then hour later changed them to kittens! You can't change your mind once it's there! Have you thought of that?!”

Huffing, Poppy crossed her arms and stared at her worry-wort of a roommate, “Branch. I've thought about this for a year, this isn't a random decision made on a whim. Also the artist I'm going to is very well recommended so I doubt there's any reason to worry about it getting messed up or infected.” She smirked at him, “And I am not going to change my mind. I know what I want.”

The dark haired man rolled his eyes, “You say that now.”

“I mean it,” Poppy pouted, “Plus I can always get another if I do want something different. So I'm getting this, wither you approve or not.”

Branch frowned, “Fine. Just don't blame me when you regret this. I warned you.” He then turned to go to his room.

“I'm not gonna regret this!” Poppy called after him after she stuck her tongue out at him. She wasn't, her design was perfect.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A few days later found Poppy pacing and fidgeting across the street from the tattoo parlor she'd chosen as she waited for Creek to show up. While she was certain she wanted this, she couldn't help but be a little nervous about it. She had always thought having one would be cool and had gone back and forth with getting it throughout most of high school but just hadn't gone through with it. It honestly hadn't been since the last year that she had seriously thought about it and had been looking at ideas. And she knew this was going to be with her forever and that it could hurt but Poppy wasn't going to let that, or paranoid roommate's, stop her.

Checking her phone for the time and wondering where her not-quite boyfriend was, the pinkette sort of wished the rest of the Pack, or at least maybe Suki or Smidge, was there with her. They had all decided to make themselves busy with work or other obligations so she could be here with only Creek as to not get in the way of any official asking out. Poppy loved that they did that but she really wanted some company right now. For moral support.

She sighed and was about to steer herself into the parlor when her phone beeped. Jumping slightly, she pulled it back out to see a text from Creek.

'Can't make it, Love. Apologies.'

Oh...

Poppy unconsciously pouted, disappointed he wasn't coming but was sure he had a good reason. He always did. But now she was going to have to get her first tattoo by herself and she wasn't so sure she wanted to do that. But all her friends were busy... Well everyone except Branch, who was actually off today but was against her gong through with this. Biting her lip and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, Poppy decided to give it a chance anyway and poked at Branch's contact in her phone. If he said no, as he probably would, she'd go in anyway! She was Poppy Meadows and she never backed down!

“What?” Branch's bored voice echoed from the phone.

“Will you come join me?! Creek can't make it and everyone else is busy!” Poppy said in a rush, her nervous energy making her talk fast, “Pleeease, Branch? I'll do anything if you go with me! Bake your favorite dessert, cook dinner, not sing or play pop music for an entire night! I know you don't want me to do this but I really want a little moral support, please?!”

She waited with bated breath before she heard him sigh, “Fine...Where are you?”

Poppy jumped up and down, her bracelets jingling, “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Ooooh~ I'm so gonna hug you when you get here! No question!” Giggling a little she spun in place before telling Branch where she was, “See you soon~!”

“Yeah, yeah...”

~*~*~*~*~*~

It luckily only took Branch about twenty minutes to find the place Poppy was waiting at, finding her dancing in nervous excitement. He still couldn't believe she was going through with this, tattoo's were a big deal! He hoped whatever design she had was something she wouldn't mind having forever because he had looked up just how difficult it was to change certain ones. He also couldn't believe he'd agreed to be her moral support. Where were all her wonderful friends? Shouldn't they be here to cheer her on with this horrible decision? They were probably the cause of this was happening in the first place and-No. No. Branch mentally scolded himself because he knew, deep down, the Snack Pack were all good people who just supported Poppy the same why she supported them. And if he continued down that thought path he'd inevitably insult them in someway this afternoon and that would upset Poppy. Which was something he didn't want to deal with today if he could help it because he hated feeling guilty.

Approaching her, he made to say something but she noticed him first and hugged him without warning, “Oh my glitter! Thank you again!”

��Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay! Get off!” He cried, pushing her away, “Let's just go get your horrible life choice over.”

Poppy stuck her tongue out at him, “Don't be such a spoil-sport. Come on!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him across the street and into the shop.

A little bell twinkled as Poppy pushed open the door and dragged Branch inside before looking around with awe. Shops like this never stopped to amaze her since they could be so different from other places. A glass front counter sat on the right with the register, displays of knick-knacks and pictures of past and favorite customers on the shelves. All around the shop were displays of the varying designs that this shop offered and more pictures of amazing and complicated tattoos. There were also displays around the shop holding the choices for multiple different body piercings, something else this particular shop offered. Last but not least was a curtained off area in the back where the chairs and supplies sat, waiting to be used.

As Poppy and Branch looked around by the entrance, a tall, statuesque red haired woman with tattoos all down her arms and across her chest came out from behind the curtain, where a buzzing sound could be heard, “Hey. Welcome. What can I do for you today?”

“Hi!” Poppy enthusiastically greeted, hopping up to the counter with a grin, “I was looking to get a tattoo today.”

The woman chuckled at Poppy's excitement, “Alright.” She turned to the nearby computer and started typing, “Do you have anything in mind? Or are you choosing from our collection today?”

“I-um...I have a design.” Poppy giggled, a light blush staining her cheeks as she pulled out the sketch Chenille had helped her draw. A large red heart with an arrow going through it and her name and Creek's done it fancy cursive. It even had a few colorful flowers and music notes peppered around for fun. She handed it over for the other woman to see.

The employee took a look at it with a grimace, “Ah...”

“Is-is something wrong with it?”

“No.” She was quick to assure, “It's just...tattoo's like this can be....regretted later on more often than not. What if you and you're boyfriend,” Her eyes flashed briefly to Branch, who was wandering the store, “Break up?”

“Oh!” Poppy waved a hand over her shoulder, “That's my roommate. As for my...boyfriend I don't think we'll break up.” Well, once they were actually together that was, “He's amazing.”

“Ah, well,” The worker shrugged, “Customer's always right.” She then placed the sketch by the scanner and continued typing, “Should be about fifteen minutes until the artist's free.”

Poppy nodded with a smile before looking around the shop some more. Finding a book of examples on the counter, she began flipping through, interested in seeing what else could be done. Humming a little tune, she saw lots of interesting ideas, including some that she thought fit her friends perfectly. Maybe she could convince them to get a tattoo one day, they could even get matching ones! Flipping the next page, Poppy suddenly paused, eyes being drawn to a sun design, the wavy rays stretching outward. It almost looked like the sun symbol from Tangled and Poppy couldn't help but be interested in it.

“Excuse me?” She asked pointing to the design, “How much would this one be?”

The red head looked over, “About the same.” She smiled kindly at Poppy, “Do you want a few minutes to decide if you'd rather want that one? I don't have to scan this yet.”

“Um...” Poppy bit her lip before nodding. She had really wanted the one for her and Creek but now...she wasn't so sure.

Meanwhile Branch was looking around the various displays and wondering just why people got some of these images permanently inked onto their skin. Some were just plain weird and questionable. Then there were the body piercing choices, some of which looked extremely painful. Although he did see one particular little charm that had just sung Poppy to him and he was eternally grateful she wasn't getting a belly button piecing as he wasn't quite sure what he'd do with that knowledge.

Branch was about to turn and rejoin Poppy at the register when she came rushing over, grabbing onto his arm and looking torn, “What's wrong?”

“I....Well...” Poppy stalled before explaining, “I was looking through this book of choices they have upfront and I saw a design I really like and now I don't know what to get! Help?!”

Branch sighed, of course something like this would happen, this was why he told her not to do it. At least she was having this issue now before she was sitting down with the needle about to pierce her skin, “I thought you wanted the design you and your friends came up with?”

“Our friends. And I did-Do! I just....” She bit her lip and Branch had to focus hard on not wanting to cup her face and stop her from doing so, “I saw this sun design and it reminded of Tangled and I really, really like it cause I can totally see it on me and I feel like it's calling to me but then if I do, I'll disappoint everyone by not getting the one we worked on!”

“Poppy.” Branch said, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye, “As much as I disapprove of this, it's your body. This thing will be with you forever, get something you know you want. Your friends will understand and if they don't, it's their problem not yours. Get this sun if you want it so badly and wait and get this mystery design some other time.”

Poppy opened her mouth to reply before really thinking about Branch just said. He did have a point, there wasn't anything stopping her from coming back and getting another one. And now that she thought about it maybe she should wait to get the one for Creek until after they were together. It could be an anniversary present of something! She smiled up at Branch, eyes twinkling, “You're right. I can always get the other one some other time. Thanks~”

Branch gulped and forced the blush threatening to rise down when she thanked him, “Don't mention it. Really.” He pulled back and crossed his arms, “I still think this is a bad idea.”

“Too bad~” She winked at him, “You just said it's my body and I can do want I want with it.” And with a giggle, she went back to the front counter to confirm the design she wanted.

About ten minutes later the buzzing in the back stopped and a two men stepped out. One shook the other's hand before waving to the red head as he exited. The other man, one with even more tattoo's than the woman, was burly with short shaved haired and multiple piercings including one in his lip. While his outer appearance almost screamed 'bad guy' there was a kind look in his blue eyes. He grinned at the woman warmly, “Alright, Rita. Anyone else?”

Rita smirked and gestured to Poppy, “Right here.”

“Hey! How ya doin'?” The man gave his hand to Poppy to shake, “Name's Alex.”

“Poppy.”

Alex grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets, “So getting a tat today, are you? First one?” At Poppy's nod he laughed joyously, “Then you came to right place. This way, little lady.”

As she and Branch followed his toward the back, Poppy asked, “Would it be alright if we filmed a little bit of the process for my vlog?”

“Go right ahead! I'm always happy to share the artistry.” Alex said, sitting in a rolling chair and pointing Poppy toward another chair as Rita handed him a few pieces of paper. He rolled over to sit in front of Poppy as she handed her purse to Branch, “So getting a sun today, huh?” The artist grinned as Poppy giggled and nodded, “Seems like a fitting choice. So what size were ya thinkin'?”

Poppy and Alex talked logistics about the tattoo for a little while, size and where she wanted it. They also spoke about how she wanted it colored and Alex suggested making it variegate from yellow in the center to orange in the rays with a dark red/orange outline. Poppy agreed with the idea so Alex had her turn in the chair and rest her arms on an arm rest while he marked out the position on her left shoulder blade. Poppy had already decided that's where she had wanted it and had worn a halter top to make things easier. Once Alex confirmed the place for it with Poppy he pasted the template on her skin, transferring the outline before rolling over to gather the needles and ink.

Poppy grinned up at Branch, who had been watching somewhat impressed at how thorough Alex was with his questions and suggestions, “Hey? Grab my camera from my purse and start filming? Please?”

Sighing, Branch rolled his eyes, “I still don't understand your need to vlog everything.” But he still grabbed the smaller camera from her purse and fiddled with it to turn it on.

Alex rolled back over, bringing a tray with ink, wipes and the needles necessary for the process before attaching the first needle to the machine. He smiled and asked, “Okay, ready?”

Poppy took a deep breath and tried to relax her shoulders before holding out a hand to Branch. She looked up at him with pleading, amber eyes and after a second, he gave her his to hold tightly as he filmed with his free hand. At her nod, Alex turned on the machine and began drawing.

It surprisingly didn't hurt as much as Poppy had expected and she was pleasantly surprised when it was announced she had the first few lines done. The rest of the time Alex took to do the outline, he talked to her and Branch, asking questions on what they did and such. Rita eventually joined them, leaning against a wall and helping to distract Poppy from what little pain she did feel. Soon enough Alex proclaimed the outline done as he wiped away excess ink. Once done, he switched the needles and dipped it into the yellow ink before he began to color.

~*~*~*~*~*~

All in all it took perhaps not quite two hours with the little waiting they did and the time it took for Poppy and Alex to talk about what she wanted before her new tattoo was done. Alex finished wiping all the excess ink off before pulling back and declaring it finished before pulling over a mirror to help Poppy see it. She exclaimed it was perfect and thanked him profusely before he bandaged it up and gave her a pamphlet on aftercare.

“Thank you again soo much~!” Poppy squealed, dancing in place but being careful not to jiggle her shoulder too much, it did hurt just a little.

“You're welcome!” Alex laughed as Rita cleaned up a bit, “If you have any questions or concerns just let us know. You can come in or contact us via phone or email. “ He then winked playfully, “And, of course, if you ever want another you know where to come.”

Poppy giggled, “Of course!” She then turned and started hopping out the door, “Come on, Branch. We need to make a stop for some scent free lotion.”

Rolling his eyes, Branch nodded goodbye to the artists and followed Poppy out, “No need. I already got you some.” At her surprised look, he shrugged, “What? I did some research and decided to save you a trip.”

Alex chuckled as their conversation was cut off by the closing of the door and a bell twinkle, “Cute couple. Bet you anything he decides her tattoo was worth getting once he gets use to seeing it.”

Rita laughed, “Yeah, 'cept they're not a couple. Apparently he's just the roommate.”

“If he's just the roommate, than I'm three feet tall.”

Rita shrugged, “Hey. Whatever their relationship, I'm just glad he talked her out of the tat she wanted first. Her and the apparent boyfriend's name.”

Alex groaned, “Oooh, those are horrible. Nobody should never get those.” He then chuckled, “Good on that guy then. That sun was much more appropriate for a happy girl like that.”

“Agreed.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

“So you'll help me take some pictures of my tat later, won't you?” Poppy asked as they walked down the sidewalk, “Please?”

“Anything else the princess demands?”

Poppy elbowed him lightly, “How about we order out tonight? Or stop somewhere? You did kind of do me a big favor by coming with me so... least I can do is give you a break from cooking. Once in a while at least, wouldn't want you getting rusty.”

“Haha.” Branch glanced at her before looking away. He would do pretty much anything she asked of him because of his feelings, not that she knew that, “And sure. We can stop somewhere.”

“Yay! Let's go!” She grabbed his hand and started happily pulling him down the street.

~*~*~*~*~*~

And there you go! Poppy now has a tattoo! Also give it up for more random OCs that came about! Anyway, not too much to say here other than I hope you liked it and to stay tuned for more~!

#Dreamworks Trolls #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #fanfiction #Human AU #Modern AU #Roommate AU #dreamworkstrolls #Snack Pack #Ripley

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nexttrickanvils · 6 years ago

Text

Written for Day 3 of @shuharuweek

Characters: Haru Okumura, Akira Kurusu, others mentioned

Prompt: Movies/Dreams

Notes: October Spoilers, some use of in-game dialogue from both P5 and P5: Dancing in Starlight

---------

For as long as she can remember, Haru dreamt of a handsome prince.

The dream itself initially played out the same. She’d find herself amongst a crowd in a large ornate ballroom. But instead of dancing on the floor, couples danced on a beautiful stage.

That is when a handsome young man approaches her and offers his hand.

“Shall we dance?”

He guides her to the stage and the two begin to dance as everyone watches.

Even after that dream starts to fade with her interest in ballet, Haru continued to see the dashing prince.

Sometimes he looked like the love interest from her favorite show, sometimes he appeared as a handsome actor that Haru saw in a movie, and once the prince was a princess who took on the appearance of a girl that Haru had a brief crush on.

She knew it was silly but the dreams gave her hope of one day meeting her real Prince or Princess Charming…

Then she turned seventeen.

Her father held a dinner party a week after her birthday. He assured her that the celebration was just simply late but Haru couldn’t help but feel that this event had long been planned while he had truly forgotten her birthday until she brought it up.

That was when her father introduced her to him .

Sugimura Takamasa.

Haru hated him immediately but according to a deal between their fathers, she was to marry him after her graduation.

She practically could see her hopes and dreams crumble before her. Instead of a Prince Charming she instead was getting a boorish man who obviously saw her more as a trophy or a plaything than a person.

Her literal dreams were also ruined. Instead of her charming handsome prince coming to sweep her off her feet it was Sugimura. Instead of offering his hand and smiling at her, he would shoot her a wicked smirk and seize her wrists in a firm grip.

The nightmare haunted her for months until eventually she simply accepted her role of the dutiful daughter. What else could she do?

That was what she thought until one day in April, when Haru arrived at Shujin and saw everyone gathered around the bulletin boards. Almost every inch was covered in a black and red card.

“Did Mr. Kamoshida do something wrong?”

“Does this mean the rumors are true?”

This was about Kamoshida-sensei?

Haru walked closer to one of the boards and pulled one of the cards off.

Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the utter bastard of lust. We know how shitty you are, and that you put your twisted desires on students that can’t fight back. That’s why we have decided to steal those desires and make you confess your sins. This will be done tomorrow so we hope you will be ready. From, The Phantom Thieves of Hearts.

Twisted desires? Phantom Thieves? What did this all mean?

Further down the hall, she could hear Kamoshida shouting and demanding who was responsible. Haru quickly put the card into her bag and made her way to class.

The next day, Kamoshida didn’t come to school.

Rumors about this and those mysterious calling cards flooded the school for days.

Until finally on the second of May, he returned to school and as the cards predicted, confessed his sins.

For the next week or so, Kamoshida’s confession was all anyone could talk about along with theories about the “Phantom Thieves” and even a website that was made so that others could ask for their help.

While Haru didn’t follow the gossip, she was still quite interested to see if they would make another move.

Just a few weeks later, news came out about suspicious calling cards scattered near the exhibit hosting the paintings of the famous artist, Madarame. A week after that, Madarame confessed to stealing the art of his pupils and claiming them as his own.

As she watches the footage of Madarame’s tearful confession, Haru feels a spark of hope.

---------

Time went on and Haru found herself becoming more enamoured with the Phantom Thieves. They reminded her a little of the noble heroes she admired as a girl. The ones who would always protect others no matter what.

Then one evening, Haru once again dreamt of Sugimura smirking and attempting to take her for himself. But before he could grab her wrist as before, a new voice rang out.

“Let her go right now!”

Sugimura turned around and was immediately greeted with the point of a knife directed at his throat.

The man before Sugimura was shrouded in shadow along with his companions behind him.

“W-who are you?”

“We are the Phantom Thieves of Heart, defenders of the weak and enemies of those who’d abuse their strength! Do you surrender or shall we steal your twisted desires?”

Without saying another word, Sugimura whimpered and ran off. The leader, while still hidden by the shadows, turned to Haru and smiled.

“Are you alright Haru?”

“H-how do you know my name?”

“Call it a secret of the trade. Shall we head out?” he says as he offers his hand

Haru hesitantly reaches her hand out and the thieves’ leader gently takes it. She walks closer to him and as she reaches him, he lifts her up in a bridal carry. Instead of struggling, she clings closer to the leader as he runs and leaps out a large window with her in his arms.

...Haru’s more than disappointed when she wakes up and realizes it’s a dream.

Months pass and it seems every time the Phantom Thieves make the news, the dream returns. It gets to the point where Sugimura isn’t there anymore and Haru is just swept off her feet by a mysterious dashing rogue. Maybe it was a little childish to dream of someone she’s never met or seen like this. But given the cruelty and coldness she’s seen from the men in her life, Haru wants to believe that her Prince of Thieves is just as she imagined him.

She wonders if she’ll see him again in her dreams tonight when Haru spots a small black and white cat wandering the street.

Wait… wasn’t there a student at Shujin who was said to carry a cat with him? He must be worried sick about his little friend. Haru immediately turned around and started following the cat.

---------

Haru leaned against the wall as she tried to catch her breath.

That was not how she pictured her first meeting with the Phantom Thieves even after tempering her expectations.

“Haru, *pant* you *pant* are you okay?”

That was when Haru noticed that her heart wasn’t just quickly beating from the running…

“You! What do you think it means?”

“One who helps the weak.”

“...I’m fine Mona-chan. Thank you.”

Later that night, Haru once again dreamt of the Phantom Thieves but things were different now. They were no longer covered in shadows, she finally knew what they looked like and she was no longer a princess but a rival thief.

She led Joker on a rooftop chase, the two bantering and flirting along the way. However it wasn’t long before he caught her.

“I must say I’ve underestimated you Beauty Thief.”

“I could say the same to you Joker.”

In that instant, the two pull each other into a passionate kiss.

Haru woke up that morning with her face red and feeling hot.

That… that didn’t mean anything… right?

---------

When she officially became a part of the group it felt like a dream come true for Haru…

And then a nightmare with the death of her father and the public’s turn against the Thieves.

In the days following father’s mental shutdown, gardening once again served as her solace. But even concentrating on the vegetables and flowers on the school rooftop couldn’t keep her mind off her current situation.

“How troubling...”

“Do you want some help?”

She looks up and sees Akira standing next to her with a concerned expression on his face.

“Oh, Akira-kun… have you come up here to assist me? You um… heard that, didn’t you?”

Haru sighs as Akira nods his head.

“I’m not worried about the garden, in case you were wondering. It’s just… so much has happened to me lately.”

Akira places a hand on her shoulder, it’s gentle and warm unlike Sugimura’s possessive grip.

“It’s alright Haru, you can tell me.”

Haru feels her cheeks heating up before telling Akira about her current struggles with Okumura Foods. The pressures of being the company’s largest shareholder, all the meetings with lawyers and officers, and the uncertainty of who to trust.

“I… I never realized I could be so distrustful of other people… ah, I’m sorry for ranting on about this matter.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It sounds like you’ve been holding this in for a while. Do you feel a little better?”

She gives Akira a small sad smile, “Actually… I think I do. I feel like talking about this has calmed me down a bit. The only people I’ve consulted up to this point have been employees. But I think what I really needed was someone closer to my own age… closer to my own viewpoint… Um… if it isn’t too much trouble, could we speak about this again some other time?”

Akira nods, “Of course. Any time you want to talk, I’ll try to be there.”

“Thank you. In return I’ll… hm… what can I do to help you? I don’t have any unique talents...”

“Haru, you don’t need to do anything for me I just want to...”

But before he could refuse, Haru recalled the vegetables she kept in the Home Economics Room. She told Akira to stay there while she rushed downstairs.

As she placed the vegetables in a bag, she thought to herself: It’s funny, usually a girl gives the boy chocolates instead of healthy foods…

...Wait… why did she…

...Oh…

---------

She did it.

She finally gathered the courage to speak with Takakura about her concerns, what she wants to do in the future, and giving her honest thoughts (if not the polite version of them) about Sugimura and the engagement.

Takakura asked her to come to the next staff meeting and promised that he would handle the marriage cancellation. For the first time in a long time Haru felt a weight off her shoulders.

“I was so afraid… but now that it’s over, I think it was honestly pretty simple. I only made it to this point because you were with me though… Th-thank you Akira-kun.”

He gives her that smile that makes her heartbeat so much faster as he replies, “You did amazing.”

She blushes and giggles, “You did too you know?”

Haru tells him that it was thanks to him that she could trust again, that she found her own strength, and that if he ever needed to confide in her; she’ll be there.

...She really fell head over heels for him hadn’t she? Well… if she could be brave enough for this meeting…

“That reminds me… Takakura said something… a little strange, didn’t he? Th-th-that I... like you… Goodness, why would he say that...?”

Akira looked surprised and Haru knew how this dream would end.

“Why do you think…?”

She looked away, bracing herself for his rejection…

But he placed his hands on hers and she turned back to him, there was that same smile.

“I like you too, Haru.”

---------

Haru giggled as she and Akira watched Morgana roll around in her room (well the twins’ recreation of her room but nonetheless.)

“I love how fluffy this carpet is! It’s almost as soft as my fur! A nice sunbath on the balcony would be great too! I’d really be living in the lap of luxury here!”

Akira smirked, “Spoken like a true cat.”

Even if it was unexpected, Haru was happy to have this extra time to spend with her friends and her boyfriend.

The three talked about their time as Phantom Thieves with Akira and Morgana both telling her how much she had grown since they had all first met.

It’s then that a thought occurs to her. A memory of an old dream.

“There’s something else I’m happy about, too.”

“Oh?” Asked Akira

She tells him about her dreams of the dashing prince escorting her to the stage.

“That dream fell by the wayside when I quit ballet, but now, it’s actually come true. But… I know that the moment I awaken, I’ll forget all about it. Almost like a spell being broken. I wish it didn’t have to end. I’d love to have more time to spend with my Prince of Thieves.”

“Well then I guess we’ll just have make our next dance unforgettable.”

Akira chuckles as he pulls her closer for a kiss. Haru smiles as she returns it. It reminds her that even when this dream ends, another still came true.

#Persona 5 #ShuharuWeek #Day 3 #Haru Okumura #Akira Kurusu #Anvil Writings #OTP: Partners in Crime

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morikothehalfangel · 6 years ago

Text

Holding on by a Thread

Part 1

Rated: T for Inu’s potty mouth

Inu/Kag AU (Two-shot that may turn into a full fic!)

2485 words

I’m uploading this onto FF.net, too, so if you don’t want to scroll forever here, feel free to go check it out on there!

A few of my fellow Inuyasha mutuals, Inuyasha followers/following, and the person who came up with the prompt, Artiste! @artistefish @keichanz @coquinespike @umacaking @dyaz-stories @eternalnight8806-3 @stuckinthewrongworld

______________________

“And this, my dear Kagome, is called ‘The Red Thread of Fate’! Why, this has been passed down our family through generations! It’s one of the few created centuries ago!”

Kagome groans. “Really, Gramps? That’s just a rolled-up ball of yarn!”

Mr. Higurashi gapes aghast at his granddaughter. “Do not say such foolery! This ancient thread is guaranteed to help those who are far or lost to find their soulmate!”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Kagome rolls her eyes, one hand petting the fat cat reclining in her lap, the other ‘marveling’ at the red ball of cloth. “And I suppose the Shikon no Tama existed, too?”

“Of course! That story is—,” He pauses and glares at the unimpressed fifteen-year-old. “Hmph! If it’s just a ‘ball of yarn’, then why would we keep it for generations, hmm?”

“Because your great great great great great grandfather was quite the prankster of his time, I assume.” Kagome replies snidely.

“W-why, young lady, that is—!” He starts, but a woman’s voice interrupts his tirade.

“Father, where are you? We promised Souta we’d take him and his friends out to that new park they opened up.” Ms. Higurashi enters the threshold and smiles at them both. “Oh, hello Kagome! Is father giving you your present?”

“Nope, just giving Buyo some yarn.” Kagome chuckles as she drops the ball onto her cat’s stomach. He bats at it, but is suddenly startled by something, and darts out of the girl’s lap. “Ah, Buyo! What on Earth…”

“It’s the power of the thread, I tell you! It even spooked the cat!” Grandpa Higurashi quickly stands, pointing at the cross-legged youngster.

“Grandpa, Buyo is spooked by the old well, too. Does that have some kind of magical power, too?” She questions.

“Of course it does!” He snaps back. She sighs in reply, and her mother decides to stop the argument.

“Father, come on now, leave her be. She’s going to be the birthday girl!”

“Mm, fine! But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shakes a gnarled finger at the teen and leaves the room with his daughter.

Kagome hums and looks at the wad of thread. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, oh great fate-sealing yarn.”

A door shuts from the down the hall, and she assumes her family is gone now. She stands and picks up the wound thread and mumbles to herself, “Maybe I can make something with this, or sew it onto a plain dress?” She sighs. “Oh well, who knows.”

And with that, she heads upstairs to her room to practice some math homework, cause the girl can’t get a break from quizzes, even on her birthday.

_________________

“Myoga, will you just leave me alone?! Haven’t you heard that this is my forest? You’re practically trespassing.” Inuyasha leaps into his favorite tree, trying to ignore the old flea. “I don’t care if Sesshomaru has some ‘willing’ woman to marry me off to so I can go live in the Western Lands. He’s despised me for years, why on Earth does he care now?”

“My lord, please! Sesshomaru-sama has come at an impasse and needs you to save face for the sake of the land’s honor and— ack!” The old flea is tossed back off his lord’s shoulder.

“So what?! All of a sudden, the damned filthy half-breed can go and have a family, all to ‘save face’?! What kinda desperate attempt is this? They’ve really gotta be sinking low if they’re asking me to join the family.” He huffs, a low growl never leaving his throat.

“But sire, think of the positives! You’d no longer be alone, or lonely, or—” Myoga is smashed onto Inuyasha’s knee in reprimand.

“Who the Hell said I’m lonely?!” The hanyou shouts.

“My… Apologies… M’lord.” He strains out of his squashed form. He pops back to his original shape and takes a hasty retreat back onto the far end of the branch. “I’ll… leave you be, for now.”

“Good, that’s how I like it.” Inuyasha seethes through clenched teeth.

And he did like it. He liked not having to deal with people everywhere, and if he wanted “company”, he would go help out the village that lies on the outskirts of his forest. He’s been around these parts for over a century, maybe longer, and he’s saved their asses more than he can count. One winter was really bad, and while the adults could handle their minor illnesses, the children were not so lucky. They likely would have had to dig a lot of small graves if it weren’t for him.

The old village miko, Kaede, was extremely worried about what to do for the children, because even she was running low on herbs during this harsh of a winter, and tea can’t solve everything. Food was running low, too. Thankfully, it was towards the end of the winter, but she didn’t think the kids could last that long. Imagine her surprise one cold morning when she found a heap of ingredients, all wrapped up in old baskets and aged cloth. Upon untying a basket, she finds a scrap of paper, likely as old as herself, lying on top of the fresh ingredients. She read the scraggly and poorly written, but legible, words to herself and softly gasped.

It was a recipe.

After that winter, he came by one day to trade for some vegetables, and more than half the village bowed and thanked him nonstop as he walked through to the small ‘marketing’ area. He was going to trade firewood for food when the man in front of him straight up gave him two whole bags of rice, free of charge. The man kept praising and thanking him for his ‘elixir’, and Inuyasha didn’t have the heart to tell anyone it was just an old family recipe.

He ‘avoided’ the area for a bit after that. He still checked up on them, when few were around, but he didn’t like the constant stares he received, even if they were all with good thoughts in mind.

Even still, while not having people despise him left and right was kinda nice, he knew none of them genuinely liked him. Maybe the old hag took a small liking to him for his ‘good deeds’, but he didn’t have anyone close to him. Last person like that was his mother, and she died long ago.

Sometimes, he wonders what it’d be like… Ugh, no! He shakes his head back and forth to rid of his train of thought. He was constantly pushing the thought out of his mind; he didn’t do mushy stuff like that! But after a while, as he was about to close his eyes for the night, not even bothering to head back to his hidden cave he called home, he wondered what it’d be like…

To be loved again.

_____________

Her alarm brings her out of her odd dream. Originally it had started out weird, like usual, more or less a nightmare of her quiz today, but then it suddenly changed to a calm and peaceful forest, high up above the trees. The stars and moon lit the whole sky, and she was honestly disappointed to be awoken from that serene scene.

She yawns and stretches, her pink tank top riding up above the band of her bright green shorts. She swings her legs over the side of her bed and reaches to itch the side of her head when she feels something soft brush her cheek. Perplexed, she glances at her hand. Wrapped around her pinky in a perfect knot is that red thread from yesterday.

“Ugh, Souta probably thought this’d be funny.” She mutters tiredly. She goes to pull out the knot, but it doesn’t budge. “Dang, he really knows his knots…”

She spots some scissors on her desk and gets up to grab them. She puts them around the knot and… snip! Wait.

Snip!

…

Snipsnipsnipsnipsnipsnipsni—

“SOUTAAAA!”

“What is it, Sis?” The third grader quickly rushes into her room, not heeding the anger in her voice.

“What is this? What’d you do?! I can’t cut it!” She screams, showing him her pinky finger angrily.

“What are you talking about, ‘Gome? I didn’t do that! Why can’t you just cut it?” He replies meekly.

“I tried! It won’t come off! Help me!”

He nods and moves to help untie the knot. He touches the tip and yelps. “It stung me!”

“What? What do you mean it stung you, it’s thread!”

“I don’t know, it just shocked me when I touched it!”

“Quit being a brat and help me!”

“I can’t! Here, I’ll go get Mom or something. Be right back!” He darts out of her room before she can stop him.

“Argh, Souta! Wait!” She begins to run after him when she notices the string leading out of her room and down the stairs. “Huh?”

Curiously, she begins to follow it. It leads right out her backdoor, across the shrine grounds (and at this point she’s wondering just how long this piece of string is), past the sacred tree, and disappears into the well house.

“The well house? What’s in here?” She opens the door. The thread leads up and over the lip of the old well. She mutters under her breath, “Alright, even Souta is too scared to go near the well…”

But that begs the question, who did it? For some reason, she felt that her answer would lie at the end of this thread… That was down the well…

Surely she’s dreaming.

And if it’s a dream, then… Screw it.

She leaps down the stairs and before she can change her mind, swings herself over the edge of the well and falls.

______________

He had an odd dream. Usually he sleeps so light he doesn’t dream at all, but this time, he was somewhere very strange. It was like he was looking through someone else’s eyes. A room, but not like any room he’s ever seen, that’s for sure.

He sits up from his reclining position against the trunk of what the villagers call a ‘Goshinboku’. He moves to pop his neck when he notices something on his right hand. A red thread tied around his pinky finger.

It takes his groggy mind a moment to understand what exactly is wrapped around his finger, and as his eyes follow the path of the thread somewhere down into the forest, one thought enters his mind.

The fuck?

He snaps out of his stupor and tries to cut the string with his claw. He tries again and again and again and—

“Alright, what the Hell?!” He snarls at the innocent thread so desperately clinging to his hand. Suddenly, he feels a tug.

And then a stronger one.

Somewhere not too far, a voice reaches his keen ears.

“I know you’re out there! Come out already!”

Gathering his wits and wondering what a young girl would be doing in his forest yelling at this hour in the morning, he leaps from the tree towards the voice.

A moment later, he lands outside of the clearing of the Bone Eater’s Well, the woven red following the whole way.

He spots a girl and sputters, her revealing clothes something he’s not used to seeing. He notices the thread move again as she does, and his eyes track the movement to her own pinky finger.

Bingo.

“Oi!” He jumps out of the tree and lands in front of the girl.

“AH! GET AWAY!” She attempts to push him, but he doesn’t budge.

“Do you know somethin’ about this piece of thread?!” He shoves his finger in her face, and her blue eyes widen.

“How did you… Did you pull this prank?!” She shrieks, holding up her own finger. “I can’t get the stupid thing off!”

“Neither can I, woman! What’re you yelling at me for?” He barks.

“Well, what are you yelling at ME for?! I didn’t do it! I came here looking for the person who did!” She yells back.

“It wasn’t me! I was asleep!”

“I was, too!” She argues.

It’s at this point when they glance down at their respective pinkies that they notice the length of the thread.

What once stretched nearly a mile was now only maybe a foot in length.

“You can’t get it off, can you?” She mumbles dejectedly.

He looks at her questioningly, and shakes his head no. “You?”

“Not at all.”

They stand there quiet for a moment, contemplating their situation.

“Well, this is gonna be a strange day... Either way…” She straightens up and quickly nods her head with a small smile. “Sorry for yelling at you, you seem like you’re telling the truth. I’m Kagome.”

Her smile stirs something in his chest, and he grunts in acknowledgement. “Don’t worry ‘bout it… Inuyasha.”

“Inuyasha? Hm, now that’s a name I’ve never heard before.” She giggles.

He’s not sure whether to blush or be insulted.

She looks around, and she shoots him another dazzling smile. “So, what exactly is this place? We’re not in Tokyo, are we?”

“I… I dunno what that is.” He stutters. Even the villagers never smile at him like this, usually just mutual nods… What’s with this girl?!

“Huh, I guess not then.” She attempts to wander when she’s halted by his hand, or, more so, by the thread attached to it. “Uh, that’s strange. It stretched really far earlier, why won’t it now?”

“Not sure, but I saw it change length when I ran over here. It’s gotta be magical in some way, I guess.” He growls under his breath as a thought enters his mind. “I pray to whatever Kami there is that this isn’t a damned curse.”

Kagome frowns. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure this is the same thread that my grandfather gave to me for my birthday today, but it was just a wadded-up piece of string just last night. I woke up with it tied around my little finger.”

He cocks a brow at that. “And, no one tied it?”

She shakes her head. “Not that I know of, at least. I know my little brother didn’t do it, he was just as freaked out as I was!”

He rubs his chin for a moment, and his head pops up with an idea. “I think I know someone who can help us with this problem.” He points with his free hand behind her towards a path in a grove of trees. “There’s an old miko in a village just a ways from here, she’ll probably help us out. Maybe a spell or something.”

“That’s great and all, but I think we have another problem…” She mumbles softly, tugging to try and stretch the string again.

“And just what might that be?” He sighs, his face void of emotion.

“I have to use the bathroom…” She softly shrugs.

Maybe this is a curse.

#inuyasha #inukag #holding on by a thread #red thread of fate #soulmates au #inuyasha au #ficlet #my writing

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officialjessicajewett · 6 years ago

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There may come a time when I can look Jonathan Frakes in the eye and have a conversation without turning tomato red and losing track of basic language skills. This past week wasn’t that time.

But we’re getting closer!

We have to start way back in 1987 when the Civil War led me to the Final Frontier. I watched the second part of a huge miniseries called North and South that actually began in 1985, but I don’t remember seeing it then. I was pretty young and going through some rough things in my family. The important thing is North & South had a character called Stanley Hazard played by (drum roll, please) Jonathan Frakes, seen here in Book III in 1994. At the same time that he was making Book I and II of North & South, he was also starting to work on Star Trek: The Next Generation. Presto! I followed “the guy with the blue eyes and the chin dimple” (quickly covered by a Civil War-appropriate beard) from the 19th century to the 24th century when I wasn’t interested in sci-fi at the time.

That’s love, folks.

Most of you know me enough by now to understand that I was born with a desperate need for connection to 19th century American history, so me as a child watching a giant Civil War miniseries, despite its major historical costuming flaws, isn’t that unusual. When Jonathan Frakes narrated a documentary called Lee & Grant a few years ago, I lost my mind when I heard his voice and had to pause the TV long enough to tell everybody in my house. I’m just like that. It’s part of my charm.

Last year, I met Jonathan Frakes when my friend invited me on the Star Trek cruise. Let’s revisit that glorious moment.

He did a Q&A that week and walked right by me because I was too chicken to ask a non-Star Trek question. What I really wanted to know was whether he did any preparation to play a villainous puppet like Stanley Hazard, whether he has interest in the Civil War period in real life, etc. Stuff that matters to me, not that Commander Riker isn’t a fantastic character. Trust me – I wouldn’t kick Riker out for eating cookies in bed. But I’m so invested in American history that I went to college for it before I got too sick to continue. Rooting out other people interested in American history is my stock and trade. So after the Q&A where I remained silent last year, I silently resolved to have North & South art autographed this year just for myself.

That brings us to last week. I boarded the cruise ship armed with unfinished Stanley Hazard art and sequestered myself in a corner of the pool deck to work on it before our ship even left port. They don’t tell you when autographs are right away and I was afraid there wouldn’t be time to finish it. Portraiture is my business, you see. I was swamped with orders well beyond Christmas and I barely had time to sketch out Stanley’s bewildered, resentful face before I left for the cruise. So I had to work on the ship in between activities.

Here’s how the progress went.

At home:

On the cruise:

How did it turn out? In my opinion … meh. My problem with it was the rolling, rocking ship and the unfamiliar surroundings. I need my little artist habitat to do my best work, although I did enjoy people coming by on the pool deck to tell me they liked it.

One of the crew people on the ship in particular spent quite a while talking to me about my art. I told her all about Jonathan Frakes and showed her what he looked like in the present so she could spot him when she met him. Every time I saw her after that, she had intel for me like, “Oh hi! Mr. Frakes up in VIP lounge now,” (she was Asian, I think, so English was a little tough) or, “Ah, it’s you, Miss Frakes Girl. You see him yet? You finish your art?” She even showed me the photo she took with him one night in that VIP lounge. I never asked for the intel but she was fun. Like, really, what was I going to do? Sneak into a place I wasn’t allowed to go? That’s not cool.

Yet I did see Jonathan every day on the ship. Most of the time he saw me too, but there were a few times when he was engrossed in talking to other people or headed somewhere fast (someone with legs that long moves much faster than I do) and I just didn’t want to be a bother. I ran into him immediately on my way to breakfast on the first day at sea. A big smile came over him and he rubbed my arm and spoke familiar greetings. I hadn’t had my coffee yet but that was a better wake up than caffeine. If you’ve ever been the target of his real smile, you know what I mean. I couldn’t believe it seemed like he remembered me.

The oddest thing was that we ended up on the same tender boat headed out to Grand Cayman. A zillion boats going back and forth all day and we ended up on the same one just a few rows apart. I don’t think he ever saw me since he was with his friends and I kept to myself out of equal parts politeness and shyness. You will have seen a photo of him snorkeling that day on Twitter. He went out there to see stingrays. As soon as I got off the tender, I went the opposite direction as him. Again, I didn’t want to be a bother.

It got better from there. He always had a big smile for me when we saw each other and said things like, “There she is,” or used kind endearments like “my dear” and the like.

Apparently one night while I was trying to find Jonathan’s photo op line, Jason Isaacs very nearly bumped into me and said hello but I never noticed him. So naturally my brother, who loves Jason Isaacs, made fun of me for the rest of the night and swore he was going to tell Jonathan that I was so laser focused on him that I completely missed Jason right in front of me. He never ratted me out. I think he values his life too much. But he might have had a point. Let’s be real. I spent a lot of time looking for a dress that made me feel like a lady to wear in my photo op. I didn’t say that, of course, but I was hoping Jonathan would notice it. He has to be a mind reader or he sincerely meant it because he said, “Beautiful dress,” without being prompted. The photo here is me strolling the pool deck after seeing him. I look drunk. I swear I wasn’t. I rarely get compliments from men that aren’t followed up by unsolicited photos of nude genitalia or being propositioned to send my own nude photos, so it was a moment.

I don’t fit in this century if we’re honest about it.

The autograph session for Jonathan was close to the end of the cruise, so I had plenty of time to finish my North and South art. I never could get it the way I wanted because of poor lighting and total exhaustion on my part. If you’ve never traveled with me, then you won’t know how much pain I go through every day. I don’t like to dwell on it in the moment, which means someone like Jonathan won’t ever see me suffer. The more I smile, the more my body hurts. Traveling causes more pain and more pain causes my artistic skills to decline. You guys probably can’t see it in Stanley’s finished art, but I can see exactly where my physical struggles overrode my creative drive.

However, Jonathan sincerely seemed to like what I did. I was terrified standing in line because people say he can be indifferent or cold sometimes. They say that about Michael Dorn too. My worst fear was him mumbling hi, how are you, scribbling his name, and moving on to the next person. The reward for an artist isn’t money at all but the fulfillment we get from seeing our work touch another person, especially if they are the muse. I really wasn’t expecting back flips, mind you. I just dreaded feeling passed over.

So Jonathan’s handler took the art first and got very excited over it. She asked to take a photo and she said he was going to love it. I have no idea what she did with the photo but I hope she liked it. When my turn came, he gave me that smile and said, “There she is!” as if he’d been expecting me. He took the art from his handler and he didn’t say anything for a second while I chewed a hole in my lip in abject terror. Then looked over the paper at me and said with a grin, “Spineless Stanley Hazard!” Relief flooded my body and I burst into laughter. He spent time studying my art and saying, “This is so great.” I wanted to say that North and South brought me over to Star Trek TNG through him but I was starting to fall into the dumb, speechless, tomato red thing I do around him. Luckily he was busy trying to plan how and where he was going to sign the art to notice that I was starting to freeze.

When he asked for my name and started to write the J, his eyes slid over to mine and he said, “Don’t you have three names?” It took me a second to realize he probably meant my name on Twitter. I’m listed as Jessica Jewett Jones @JJ9828 on Twitter so people who read my books or buy my art as well as people who know me in real life can find me (Jones is my legal name, Jewett is my name for books and art). I don’t know if he saw the panic alarms going off in my head. He never replies to people, so I figured he didn’t read his tweets. I have a have a habit of live tweeting Riker-centric Star Trek episodes. I express Beardo love on @sweartrek too. Twitter has to be the only place he’d see me with “three names” unless he has a secret Instagram account.

Who knows what kinds of embarrassing tweets he’s seen when I thought he wasn’t looking? Oh well. I never truly say anything online that I wouldn’t want the rest of the world to see. You just never know who’s watching. It’s fine for him to know that the Riker Maneuver in the movie (or generally Riker in combat command) turns me into one of those Victorian women in need of smelling salts. You know what? I own it. Still, I was teased the rest of the night for being busted.

I don’t know if photos in the autograph line were exactly kosher but my brother was behind me and he knew how important that night was to me. He discreetly took a few photos while Jonathan and I were talking. Hopefully we won’t get in trouble for this since it wasn’t done obnoxiously.

All joking aside, after Jonathan signed my art and handed it back to my brother (bonus points to him for knowing I can’t hold objects in my hands without being told), he caught my eye and got serious to say something to the effect of, “It’s always a pleasure to see you. Always.” It was a crowded atrium and I was honestly overwhelmed. But he made a point to make me feel valued and wanted. That meant everything to me.

Here’s the finished art with his autograph.

The next time we bumped into each other was unexpectedly at Brent Spiner’s theater show. My brother saw him sitting in my row on the other side of the theater, which was cool, but I wasn’t going to approach him. I never approach him, in fact. I just wait to see if he notices me and he usually does. He spotted me as he was walking by and he called out, “Hey, baby!” and blew a kiss at me with his whole hand. Nope, I can’t tell you what songs Spiner sang for a big part of the show after that. And for most of the second half of the show, while Spiner sang love songs, Jonathan sat right across the aisle from me and it took all of my internal fortitude to stay focused on the show.

I had hoped to catch him one more time on the last day to thank him for being so lovely to me all week. That never happened. I slept in late and then I spent the afternoon with my brother at the bar above the pool deck, ironically not drinking any alcohol. It was just a nice place to sit and watch the world go by.

There were so many other great things that happened on my trip, like Gates McFadden accidentally shoving my chair into Wil Wheaton, but it’s all too much to write in one blog. I mainly composed this one for myself so I could remember the things that were most important to me. If you found it interesting and made it to the end, you’re the kind of person I want to know and I thank you for hanging out here. I think I might do more North and South art once I’m not so buried in commissions too. We’ll see.

Yes, I am going on the Star Trek cruise next year as long as Jonathan Frakes will be there. I’d probably go even if he wasn’t there since it’s my friend Wendy who buys my passage, but he makes it so much more fun for me. And maybe I’ll figure out how to stop blushing like a virgin and say something more intelligent than hi and thank you. That’s really irritating me. I’m a 36-year-old woman who has had almost two dozen surgeries, a dozen broken bones, I’m a domestic abuse survivor, I’m more than a decade sober, and I can’t stand women that get all shy and silent around men. I’m a goddamn warrior! I can handle a 6’4 man like a queen! Next year, I’m going to blow his socks off with my charm and intelligence. He’ll go home and tell Genie Francis how awesome I am (ha!)

Next year’s autograph art? Will Riker vs Thomas Riker. So mote it be.

Oh, PS, it’s Wendy who has the photo ops and she’s in the middle of moving house during a snow storm. I’ll update this blog when she sends me the photo ops. In the meantime, go ahead and follow my social media at the bottom of this blog for more photos and my latest art projects.

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Spineless Stanley Hazard (And Other Adventures) There may come a time when I can look Jonathan Frakes in the eye and have a conversation without turning tomato red and losing track of basic language skills.

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plottwiststudios · 7 years ago

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Real Talk: The Not So Good Edition

(Have an image of a tired Xjena, as thanks for putting up with this post. In advance.)

I suppose every creative project must pay its dues in setbacks. And golly-gee-biscuits have I and many members on staff been paying it. It’s been a journey that’s taking it’s absolute toll on me, so I figure it’s time to let supporters of “Women of Xal” know the current Don’t-Panic-The-Project-Is-Ongoing status for this title. It is as they say: transparency is incredibly important for all parties involved.

Firstly: After a healthy conversation with the animator we announced around a month ago, we decided it was best she stepped down from that role. According to her, things kept happening one after one after one and after another that prevented her from creating nearly any content -- and no content that could be used for WoX. (I believe work trips, studios, and a program that hates WoX enough to not render anything for us.) Then 3 months came and it became impossible for her to fulfill her part of the agreement before WoX launches. 15 minutes of animation is a lot to ask for in 9 months, after all. Part of the agreement was...an incredible amount of music, which I had already made around 3 months work, but she seemed determined to pay for the tracks I made for the animation. We wish her well.

That said, it did mean the script needed to be looked with a different light and the BG & CG artist, Geckos, now has double duty as animator as well. (And for those who don’t know her, she and I go way back with trade and client work. Back 2013, in fact. A very talented artist with beautiful works of art and the obvious choice for me to go to.) And if you’re thinking that’s way too much to put on one person to get done before the end of 2018 -- Ey-hey! I agree.

Relatedly, hit me up if you’re an intensely talented animator/bg artist willing to trade for bucket-loads of orchestral/game music. I don’t like overworking anyone anymore than I have to!

And I absolutely must emphasize that an animator that might have had to inevitably step down is not something I blame her for. I proactively went for the least risky option, and the transition pains are, again, inevitable. And maybe the least of my problems.

Secondly: Something is mucking up my mental and physical health. I don’t know what it is, but food, especially sweets, are actively making me feel anxious and nauseous. It feels as though my body just flat out doesn’t want me to eat, and/or punishes me for eating. Example? The completely healthy yogurt I had this morning? Everything feels wrong. Yesterday’s dinner? Feels like I committed some sin. PB&J sandwich? Delicious, but my motivation just got shot by a dose of depression. Taking certain things out of my diet doesn’t seem to help, either. And annoyingly enough, veggies seem to suffer the most violent reactions. It’s like drinking (water/cran-grape/on rare occasion, soda) is the only thing my body consistently appreciates. And you just know it’s messing with my ability to write. Sometimes things don’t even taste quite right.

Thirdly: My inconsistent work schedule at my job is killing my creative workflow. I super appreciate the job (I need money too), and I’ll take the hours they give every time, but a 9-5 one part of the week and a 6-12 for the other, with the rest of my schedule all over the place is devastating, creatively speaking! It’s been like this for the past 6 months, and I can’t even begin to tell you what my next week schedule will be like. A natural thing to happen in retail, so my situation isn’t special at all. Just consider this -- all of this --context for the next part:

Sickness, moving, staff shakeups, overwork, and outright delays in schedule have been ongoing, and I feel like this isn’t quite the end of it, either. 2018 is obviously still fresh on my mind for when we want this game released, but I’m sure I’m not the only one on the team worrying that if creative-hemorrhages keep happening, Early 2019 might be the only sensible option if we want “Women of Xal” to retain the quality you all expect from the writing and art.

Is there anything you all can do to help, you ask? Well, by not socially burning me at the stake as we wrestle through all of this, you’ve already done more than enough! ‘ v’

Thanks for reading all of that. Here’s an updated CG for those who went the Ruthless Route for the new demo. Hoping the next update is filled with hype and hope.

-John

#JohnTalks #Real Talks #RealTalks #PTupdate #WoXupdate #long post

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

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Lips pressed close to mine, True blue (Willam x Alaska) - Albatross

AN: So it’s my first time posting on this subject and admittedly, I’m a bit nervous on how it will be received. The title and song it’s from only has a vague connection to the story (maybe if you squint…and take like four shots). This is just a short little fluffy piece I wrote about one of my favorite (underrated) pairings as distraction from some bigger projects I’m working on. Hope you all enjoy it and sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes that might’ve made it through my proofread!

Alaska shivered beneath the covers for what felt to be the hundredth time since she and Willam decided to call it a night. Alaska full well meant to head back to her own home but one bottle of wine turned into three and 7 PM quickly turned into 11:30 before either of them realized how late it was or how tipsy they had gotten. When Willam casually offered the guest bedroom, Alaska accepted it with a grateful smile. The thought of heading back to her own empty house after such a fun day with one of closest friends was more than a bit of let down. Lately she’d been feeling rather lonely as she paced around her house without even a dog or cat to keep her company. She never really noticed how empty her house truly was until she decided to take a short break between her slew of shows and appearances. Constantly touring easily allowed her to forget how alone she felt outside of work but now that she had time to herself, it was undeniable how much she needed other people around her to feel content. Willam had called her earlier that day and asked if she wanted to hang out at his studio while he filmed a few videos for Patreon and Youtube. Alaska jumped at the chance, grateful for both the distraction and the opportunity spend a little extra time with Willam. She loved watching him work, whether it was in front of a camera or behind, she got lost in the focused expression on his face as he became absorbed by whatever task he was working on. Though she loved when he went silent and meditative as he figured out an issue, she loved his laugh even more, ugly as it is at times. That look of pure joy on his face when he laughed at his own jokes, especially when accompanied by the seal-clap, never failed to make her smile. Easily her second favorite part of watching him shoot for Beatdown was the unique outfits he created for each episode. He always turned out a new look for each episode, even if he used the same wig mutliple times, you could always count on him to make it look brand new either with the style or by adding an accessory or extensions. Today’s episode also coincided with the filming for a ‘Paint Me Bitch’ with a queen Alaska had not yet heard of but shortly grew to appreciate their work. Said artist, whose name Alaska had missed due to arriving in the middle of shooting, had clearly done their homework and incorporated Willam’s signature color into the look they had crafted for him. The beat blended together the shades of blue Willam loved so much with a classy touch of silver and just enough sparkle to make Willam exclaim excitedly “I get glitter too? This is the best 'Paint Me Bitch’ ever!” Even the lips Willam had consented to allow the artist to paint on him showed off his fondness for cerulean and navy especially. Following the end of the filming for the day, Alaska was resigned to head back home and kill the remainder of the evening watching TV and maybe ordering takeout. She had begun gathering her belongings when Willam placed his hand gently over hers and started speaking. Her cheeks tinted just slightly at the contact and a smile broke out over her face when she realized Willam had asked if she wanted to head back to his place for pizza and drinks. She nodded enthusiastically and followed him back to his house outside the city with a jubilant grin. The rest of the night was spread out with good pizza, cheap wine, and whatever B-list movie caught their attention on Netflix. The pure simplicity of the evening’s pleasures was one Alaska would never trade for the world, especially if it meant sharing it her friend. When the queens had chanced to look at the clock during one of the movies, they found it was already after 11. Alaska had groaned at the thought of driving home so late and kicked herself mentally for forgetting to check the time for so long. She really hadn’t meant to keep Willam up so late, especially when he would be working again tomorrow but she was selfish and didn’t want to leave his side for as long as she had an excuse to stay. Reluctantly, she was beginning to say her 'goodbyes’ when the other queen asked if she wanted to finish the movie and stay over night in the guest room. By no means was it unusual for Alaska to sleep at Willam’s or vice versa, but it had never been as unplanned as this. Typically they had an idea of it early on in the day and made arrangments accordingly. Something about tonight’s stay made it seem just a bit more…intimate than previous visits. But like the clingy overgrown child she felt like sometimes, Alaska immediately agreed to her friend’s generosity and settled down on the couch again next to him. The remainder of the movie was a blur for Alaska who couldn’t shake the nervous feeling that had developed in her stomach. As the credits played, she helped Willam clean up the kitchen and living room and each retired to their respective bedrooms for the night. The first thing Alaska noticed when she opened the door was that the room seemed a few degrees colder than most areas of the house. The window had been left slightly ajar and figuring that was the obvious source of the temperature difference, she shut it and slipped between the sheets. To her annoyance, the room did not seem to get any warmer as the night went on. If anything it almost seemed colder without the balmy breeze floating through the mesh screen. Sighing, she got out of bed again and reopened the window. Thinking to herself that she better check on the AC in the room, she stood on her bed and peered into the vent directly above her. The fan was wide open blowing cold air into her face but even through squinting eyes, she could not figure how to close vent even a little. Biting her lip, she climbed back under the covers and tried to force herself to fall asleep. Every time she felt herself nodding off, the warm breeze from the window seemed to die out and the AC would quickly take its place. Despite how tightly she wrapped herself in the sheets, a blast of cold air always seemed to slip in and cause her to shiver. She eventually relented and left what little warmth the bed offered to search for extra blankets in the walk-in closet but she was left disappointed. Nothing! The hallway closet; also nothing! What the hell? She debated with herself for a full minute on checking with Willam to find out where he had hidden the blankets in this confusing house. She knew he was most likely passed out by now, but without at least one additional layer of protection between her and the cold, she was going to be awake all night freezing her ass off. Quietly, she made her way to Willam’s room and knocked gently on the door. When there was no answer after a few seconds, she softly called out his name and tapped on the door just a little bit harder. Still, there was no noise to be heard from inside the room and she shuffled awkwardly on her feet trying to decide how to handle the situation. It felt like crossing an unspoken barrier to open his door but Alaska didn’t know what else to do. She bit her lip again and tiptoed to the side of his bed. Now that she was closer, she tried whispering his name again…Not even a twitch. Alaska has always been prone overthinking and usually she knew how to combat it but right now her mind was slowly being consumed by the fear that something was not right with her friend. She swallowed the lump in her throat and called his name once more, keeping the volume just under her normal register. When there was still no visible response after 10 seconds, Alaska felt her heart drop to her stomach. Her hand was shaking as she reached over to touch Willam’s shoulder but immediately drew it back after her fingers brushed his skin. He was cold…colder than she had felt in her room standing directly beneath the fan and his lips were a pale blue in the moonlight. Her voice cracked as she cried out “Willam!” and shook his shoulder violently. There was no way this could be happening. Not her best friend! She didn’t know whether to cry or scream at him when she finally saw him reacting. He slowly came to, wiping the sleep from eyes and sitting up. “'Laska?” he slurred groggily as he tried bring his sluggish mind to working condition. Alaska let out a broken laugh of relief and clutched a hand over her pounding heart. Willam quickly took in the sight of his terrified friend and scurried to the end of the bed to catch her before she collapsed onto the floor. He gently sat her down on the edge and asked what was wrong. Her breathing was coming in spurts but he didn’t try to rush her for an explanation. Alaska saw the genuine concern in his eyes as he ran his hand in slow circles over her back while he waited for her to calm down. When she was finally well enough to speak, she frantically apologized for overreacting and waking up him like that. He brushed it aside without a second thought and asked again what had upset her. She had never felt more ashamed of herself than when she admitted that when she came in to ask about an extra blanket and didn’t see him react after trying to wake him, her mind had immediately plunged off the deep end to worst possible scenario. “Y-You were cold and you weren’t moving…I panicked…I’m sorry,” she whispered as she did her best to suppress another shiver. Willam cupped her cheek and wiped away a stray tear that had fallen as he told her, “Hey, don’t be. I’m glad you care enough to be that upset. Not a lot of people would be.” “You know that’s not true,” she laughed weakly. He gave a rueful smile and continued, “Seriously though, you don’t know how much it means to me to know you care that much. And I’m sorry too, I should have told you the AC here’s been a little wonky lately. Would’ve saved us this mess.” Alaska and Willam both let out a sickly relieved chuckle and leaned heavily against against each other. Cold or not, Alaska felt like she could fall asleep anywhere with how drained she felt at the moment. Drowsily, she whispered to Willam, “You’re lips are blue…” “Still? Washed my face twice already…” he muttered distractedly as he wiped his fingers over them. His eyebrows shot up slightly as he discovered that pigment was indeed still present on his lips. Absently, he said to himself, “I gotta find out what that bitch used on me…could suck dick in a hurricane with that shit.” Alaska cracked up at the statement and clutched Willam’s arm to keep herself steady. He’d probably never admit it to anyone but even with her tear-stained face and puffy eyes, when he watched her laugh after that incident, he’d swear he’d never seen her look more beautiful than she did right now. Carefully, he tilted her chin up and kissed her forehead. “Thanks for always caring about me…” Her cheeks flared at the atypical show of affection from the older queen but her heart felt close to bursting as she murmured quietly, “Anytime…” They stayed frozen like that for a few moments before Willam broke the silence. “If you still want extra blankets, they’re down in the laundry room…but you’re welcome to share the bed with me…” he offered with a tinge of hope in his voice. “I’d like that…” Alaska replied shyly. Willam skillfully rearranged himself to allow Alaska to slid in comfortably amongst the sheets on the spacious bed. Without hesitation, he pulled her close to him and ghosted his lips over hers. “Can I?” he asked tentatively, praying he had not misread the signals. Alaska felt like she was on cloud nine when she heard him ask and nodded before swiftly closing the distance herself. They worked their lips together in perfect synchrony, both just content to let the kiss relay their true emotions. When they broke apart each saw only the fondness and admiration in the other’s eyes that they had so longed for. There’d be plenty of time to explore the relationship further the next day, for now all that mattered was spending the night holding onto the person they cared about the most.

#albatross #willaska #fluff #alaska thunderfuck #rpdr fanfiction #willam belli #canon compliant

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 7 years ago

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How canonical are illustrations from a Knight of the Seven Kingdoms? i am still thinking about the topless person from Baelor's funeral - is it supposed to be allegorical or "for real"?

No illustrations are canonical, some just match the descriptions in the books better than others.* The only canon is the text. (See Neil Gaiman’s post about canon, it’s neat and applies to many things.)

Gary Gianni’s illustrations are very pretty, but they tend to be kind of Renaissance-y and figurative and are not always that accurate to the text. Same with his ASOIAF calendar – for example, the one with Pycelle, Varys, and Littlefinger is highly inaccurate (LF never wears a sword, Pycelle’s hat is bwahuh? and Varys’s robes don’t look like that lol) – and the less said about the racist Dany art the better. Which also has a topless lady!

So yeah, don’t worry, the illustration of Baelor’s funeral is highly figurative and allegorical with things that were not described in the text, just like the crying dragons while Dunk holds the dying Baelor, the dragon and lion in Dunk’s dream of Rohanne, and the dragon in the tree that’s the frontispiece of the book. (And obviously Egg and his dragon egg and the dragon are figurative.)

*For example, Tanselle.Some ramblings about various artists’ interpretations under the cut:

The text describes Tanselle as “a tall drink of water, with the olive skin and black hair of Dorne. She was slim as a lance with no breasts to speak of […] a head shorter than [Dunk] was, but still taller than any other girl he had ever seen.”

This is Gianni’s Tanselle:

And this is Mike S. Miller’s Tanselle, from the Hedge Knight graphic novel:

(more here)

And this is Amok’s painting of Tanselle, mostly based on Miller’s character designs:

Which one matches the text better? Gianni added curly hair, which isn’t described in the text; mind you straight hair isn’t either, but we know of more Dornish people with straight hair than curly. (Arianne has lush curls, but Oberyn and the Sand Snakes (excluding Sarella) have straight hair.) Miller added an undescribed widow’s peak (like Oberyn has), Amok’s Tanselle just has a straight hairline. Gianni’s Tanselle is way too short, Miller’s is a touch too tall (lol). Gianni’s Tanselle has a lot more than “no breasts to speak of”, but only Amok’s is really flat-chested. Gianni added an undescribed necklace and bracelets, Miller added undescribed earrings and bracelets. Gianni’s art is not colored, but I really wouldn’t say that Tanselle looks Dornish, no ethnically different from any other character in the story – whereas the colorist for the THK GN made sure to give her mid-dark olive skin, Amok painted her with mid-dark olive skin, and Miller’s b&w sketch (as seen in the back of the THK trade paperback) distinctly shows ethnic differences in her facial features.

So which depiction of Tanselle is “canon”? Again, none, only the text is, but I think Miller sticks much closer to the canon text than Gianni does, and Amok’s is best at it. (FWIW, when I met Mike Miller at a convention, I asked him why he’d chosen to draw Tanselle the way he did, with the widow’s peak and big dark eyes and all, had GRRM told him anything, and he just shrugged and said nope, he’d drawn her just as she was described in the story. Which tells you a lot about artists.) But all artists are free to create their own interpretations, that’s the great thing about art, and the grand variety of interpretations is the thing I love most about ASOIAF art. All these Tanselles are beautiful, I love them all, whether they fit the text or the image of Tanselle in my head or not.

Like, fan art, commissioned art, “official” art, whatever, it’s all filtered through the artist’s mind and then the viewer’s; if the viewer is also a reader, they can match the artwork to their own head-image of the character created when they read the story, and choose to agree with it or not. Sometimes an artist’s character design can be very unique (looking at @icesalamander’s lovely work here, some of yours too), and whether it matches the exact text description or not, whether it matches a reader’s initial head-image or not, the viewer can still choose to feel that it’s an amazing depiction of the character, even if it’s not “canon”, and maybe that artist’s interpretation will even replace their head-image.

To me, Miller’s Tanselle is my Tanselle, and his Baelor is my Baelor (ugh at Gianni’s), and his Dunk is my Dunk. That’s mostly because his work was the first illustrations of the characters I ever saw, so they fixed my head-images early, not to mention that I actually read the THK comic before I read the novella, so the two went together. But my head-images of the D&E stories and characters are not any more “canon” than someone who read A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms first with its illustrations (and has never seen Miller’s), or someone who’s never seen any art of the D&E stories at all and just has their own unique head-images. I mean, I think my head-images are better (especially if some person actually thinks there were half-naked people crying at Baelor’s funeral, lol), but that’s me, and it’s all still opinions and interpretations of the canon text. Anyway, I’m just totally rambling now, so let me just cut this off…

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iquotation · 7 years ago

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Top 100 Inspirational Quotes

Inspirational quotes and motivational quotes have the power to get us through a bad week, and can even give us the courage to pursue our life’s dreams. Here are 100 inspirational quotes: 1. Life isn’t about getting and having, it’s about giving and being. –Kevin Kruse 2. Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve. –Napoleon Hill 3. Strive not to be a success, but rather to be of value. –Albert Einstein 4. Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. –Robert Frost 5. I attribute my success to this: I never gave or took any excuse. –Florence Nightingale 6. You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take. –Wayne Gretzky 7. I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed. –Michael Jordan 8. The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity. –Amelia Earhart 9. Every strike brings me closer to the next home run. –Babe Ruth 10. Definiteness of purpose is the starting point of all achievement. –W. Clement Stone 11. We must balance conspicuous consumption with conscious capitalism. –Kevin Kruse 12. Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans. –John Lennon 13. We become what we think about. –Earl Nightingale 14.Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do, so throw off the bowlines, sail away from safe harbor, catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore, Dream, Discover. –Mark Twain 15.Life is 10% what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it. –Charles Swindoll 16. The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any. –Alice Walker 17. The mind is everything. What you think you become. –Buddha 18. The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now. –Chinese Proverb 19. An unexamined life is not worth living. –Socrates 20. Eighty percent of success is showing up. –Woody Allen 21. Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. –Steve Jobs 22. Winning isn’t everything, but wanting to win is. –Vince Lombardi 23. I am not a product of my circumstances. I am a product of my decisions. –Stephen Covey 24. Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up. –Pablo Picasso 25. You can never cross the ocean until you have the courage to lose sight of the shore. –Christopher Columbus 26. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel. –Maya Angelou 27. Either you run the day, or the day runs you. –Jim Rohn 28. Whether you think you can or you think you can’t, you’re right. –Henry Ford 29. The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why. –Mark Twain 30. Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. –Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 31. The best revenge is massive success. –Frank Sinatra 32. People often say that motivation doesn’t last. Well, neither does bathing. That’s why we recommend it daily. –Zig Ziglar 33. Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage. –Anais Nin 34. If you hear a voice within you say “you cannot paint,” then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced. –Vincent Van Gogh 35. There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing. –Aristotle 36. Ask and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock and the door will be opened for you. –Jesus 37. The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be. –Ralph Waldo Emerson 38. Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined. –Henry David Thoreau 39. When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and could say, I used everything you gave me. –Erma Bombeck 40. Few things can help an individual more than to place responsibility on him, and to let him know that you trust him. –Booker T. Washington 41. Certain things catch your eye, but pursue only those that capture the heart. – Ancient Indian Proverb 42. Believe you can and you’re halfway there. –Theodore Roosevelt 43. Everything you’ve ever wanted is on the other side of fear. –George Addair 44. We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light. –Plato 45. Teach thy tongue to say, “I do not know,” and thous shalt progress. –Maimonides 46. Start where you are. Use what you have. Do what you can. –Arthur Ashe 47. When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life. –John Lennon 48. Fall seven times and stand up eight. –Japanese Proverb 49. When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened for us. –Helen Keller 50. Everything has beauty, but not everyone can see. –Confucius 51. How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world. –Anne Frank 52. When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. –Lao Tzu 53. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. –Maya Angelou 54. Happiness is not something readymade. It comes from your own actions. –Dalai Lama 55. If you’re offered a seat on a rocket ship, don’t ask what seat! Just get on. –Sheryl Sandberg 56. First, have a definite, clear practical ideal; a goal, an objective. Second, have the necessary means to achieve your ends; wisdom, money, materials, and methods. Third, adjust all your means to that end. –Aristotle 57. If the wind will not serve, take to the oars. –Latin Proverb 58. You can’t fall if you don’t climb. But there’s no joy in living your whole life on the ground. –Unknown 59. We must believe that we are gifted for something, and that this thing, at whatever cost, must be attained. –Marie Curie 60. Too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears. –Les Brown 61. Challenges are what make life interesting and overcoming them is what makes life meaningful. –Joshua J. Marine 62. If you want to lift yourself up, lift up someone else. –Booker T. Washington 63. I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do. –Leonardo da Vinci 64. Limitations live only in our minds. But if we use our imaginations, our possibilities become limitless. –Jamie Paolinetti 65. You take your life in your own hands, and what happens? A terrible thing, no one to blame. –Erica Jong 66. What’s money? A man is a success if he gets up in the morning and goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do. –Bob Dylan 67. I didn’t fail the test. I just found 100 ways to do it wrong. –Benjamin Franklin 68. In order to succeed, your desire for success should be greater than your fear of failure. –Bill Cosby 69. A person who never made a mistake never tried anything new. – Albert Einstein 70. The person who says it cannot be done should not interrupt the person who is doing it. –Chinese Proverb 71. There are no traffic jams along the extra mile. –Roger Staubach 72. It is never too late to be what you might have been. –George Eliot 73. You become what you believe. –Oprah Winfrey 74. I would rather die of passion than of boredom. –Vincent van Gogh 75. A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty. –Unknown 76. It is not what you do for your children, but what you have taught them to do for themselves, that will make them successful human beings. –Ann Landers 77. If you want your children to turn out well, spend twice as much time with them, and half as much money. –Abigail Van Buren 78. Build your own dreams, or someone else will hire you to build theirs. –Farrah Gray 79. The battles that count aren’t the ones for gold medals. The struggles within yourself–the invisible battles inside all of us–that’s where it’s at. –Jesse Owens 80. Education costs money. But then so does ignorance. –Sir Claus Moser 81. I have learned over the years that when one’s mind is made up, this diminishes fear. –Rosa Parks 82. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop. –Confucius 83. If you look at what you have in life, you’ll always have more. If you look at what you don’t have in life, you’ll never have enough. –Oprah Winfrey 84. Remember that not getting what you want is sometimes a wonderful stroke of luck. –Dalai Lama 85. You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have. –Maya Angelou 86. Dream big and dare to fail. –Norman Vaughan 87. Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter. –Martin Luther King Jr. 88. Do what you can, where you are, with what you have. –Teddy Roosevelt 89. If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get what you’ve always gotten. –Tony Robbins 90. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning. –Gloria Steinem 91. It’s your place in the world; it’s your life. Go on and do all you can with it, and make it the life you want to live. –Mae Jemison 92. You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try. –Beverly Sills 93. Remember no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. –Eleanor Roosevelt 94. Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be. –Grandma Moses 95. The question isn’t who is going to let me; it’s who is going to stop me. –Ayn Rand 96. When everything seems to be going against you, remember that the airplane takes off against the wind, not with it. –Henry Ford 97. It’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years. –Abraham Lincoln 98. Change your thoughts and you change your world. –Norman Vincent Peale 99. Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing. –Benjamin Franklin 100. Nothing is impossible, the word itself says, “I’m possible!” –Audrey Hepburn 101. The only way to do great work is to love what you do. –Steve Jobs 102. If you can dream it, you can achieve it. –Zig Ziglar

#quotes #quote #quotescollection #textquotes

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swimintothesound · 7 years ago

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In Defense of DJ Khaled

I'm not one to defend mediocrity. Some things are just aggressively “alright” and DJ Khaled tends to be one of them. He's not an artist in the traditional sense of the word, in fact putting him in a box is actually kind of hard. He's a Snapchat-famous DJ, record producer, and meme machine with just a few more catchphrases your average Saturday morning cartoon character. While his musical contributions tend to be nothing more than shouting his own catchphrases in between (or directly over) a rapper’s bars, he also serves an important role as a Nick Fury-like assembler of talents.

In the wake of this year’s Grateful, I’ve found myself reflecting on DJ Khaled’s prior release with a surprising amount of fondness. While I won't defend mediocrity on an artistic level, that’s not to say there isn't a time and a place for it. The real problem is most DJ Khaled albums are the musical equivalent of throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks. Sometimes you’ll get a Drake-bolstered summer anthem, or strike gold with an unexpected artist pairing. But more often than not you’ll end up with a by-the-numbers hip-hop track that feels market tested as fuck and sounds like six different people all sending verses to each other via email over the course of months.

And I can't tell if it's nostalgia for summer 2016 or genuine appreciation, but Khaled’s skill as a musical host has never been more on a more impressive display than 2016’s Major Key. In fact, I’d go as far as to say it’s a flawless album. Now before you close the tab let me explain myself. I don’t mean flawless in that it stacks up to The Beatles or anything, I mean that every track on it is great and serves a different purpose.

While I usually hate track-by-tracks, I think Major Key is an album that would benefit from this type of dissection. There is honestly an impressive number of sounds being explored on this album. The collaborations feel fresh, and Khaled’s typically-shoehorned catchphrases actually fit into the album unobtrusively. It’s not high art, but it’s an incredibly-varied selection of songs that ends up feeling more like a curated summer playlist than a record by one man.

I guess that’s a point against the album since I’m basically saying Major Key is good because it doesn’t feel like a “DJ Khaled album,” but his skill here wrangling the number of artists and sounds is worth writing about. He’s a host and curator, and this album is the most consistent of his career. It’s commendable, especially when contrasted with the uneven follow-up we just received.

1) I Got the Keys (feat. Jay Z and Future)

Major Key begins with a fittingly-named banger that allows Jay-Z to don his jewelry and flex for the world once again. The track sees Future relegated to the song’s chorus while Jay-Z comes in with two of the best verses we’ve heard from him in years. While the recent release of 4:44 signals a more grown-up and fatherly shift in Jay’s sound and topics, it’s nice to have one (possibly final) send-off to Big Pimpin’-era Hov. Yes the chorus is repetitive, but 2016 was host to a rash of intentionally-repetitive Future-led choruses (including a second one later on this very album). I like that these songs are using Future for his unique textured voice as opposed to his tired lean-soaked raps. As a whole, the song has a hypnotic siren-like beat that Jay rides nicely and it ends up serving as a perfect energetic opener.

2) For Free (feat. Drake)

A Drake feature is practically a tradition on DJ Khaled albums at this point. In addition to the pair’s storied history, a Drake feature almost guarantees a song’s commercial success and a nomination for the elusive “Song of the Summer” title. Released as Major Key’s first single, the song did numbers but failed reach the pervasiveness needed to truly become the official song of the summer (despite Khaled’s claims on the song’s outro.) It’s still a nice bouncy Drake track that’s pool-party-ready, and furthered Drake’s exploration of the dancehall-esque sound.

3) Nas Album Done (feat. Nas)

On “Nas Album Done” Nas himself commandeers an entire track simply to spit bars for three minutes straight. With no chorus, and minimal intrusion from Khaled, this is a song of pure hip-hop proficiency that addresses the political climate of mid-2016. The title refers to Nas’ (still-unreleased) forthcoming album which will be his first in over five years. As such, this Fugees-sampling track serves as an appetizer for the bars to come on his next record.

4) Holy Key (feat. Kendrick Lamar, Big Sean, and Betty Wright)

Easily the track I’ve listened to most off of the album, “Holy Key” is a fast-moving and hard-hitting pump-up jam. The song that calls to mind Sean and Kendrick’s previous collaboration, the world-concerning “Control” which was a pivotal moment for the hip-hop scene as a whole. While “Holy Key” doesn’t quite recapture the fire of “Control” (a lot of time has passed since 2013) it does manage to capture a particularly-strong Big Sean verse and one of the most ferocious features of Kendrick’s career.

5) Jermaine’s Interlude (feat. J. Cole)

After the abject fire of “Holy Key” things slow down a bit for a bit of a breather on the J. Cole-helmed “Jermaine’s Interlude.” It provides some much-needed pathos after the blitz of hyper-proficient verses on the first few tracks of the album. The interlude throws bone to the very specific yet ravenous fan base that J. Cole has cultivated since his breakthrough 2014 Forest Hills Drive. The mellowed-out track injects more of a “conscious” sound into Major Key that breaks up the album’s themes and showcases a surprising amount of well-articulated topics for an interlude.

6) Ima Be Alright (feat. Bryson Tiller and Future)

In the album’s most flaccid track Future and Bryson Tiller trade verses over a dreamy beat that continues the slower late night vibes of the last track. The song showcases a particularly-animated Future verse that’s sandwiched in between two remorseful Tiller hooks that discuss the pratfalls of fame. It’s capped off with a verse from Tiller and a surprisingly funny outro by Khaled.

7) Do You Mind (feat. Nicki Minaj, Chris Brown, August Alsina, Jeremih, Future, and Rick Ross)

From there the album continues its stretch of slower tracks with the overtly-sexy “Do You Mind.” The track combines Chris Brown and August Alsina vocals to create an earworm of a chorus that Alsina then commandeers for a short verse. From there the two throw to Jeremiah who adds a third layer of R&B sexiness before another chorus swaggers in. The track takes a hard turn as Future and Rick Ross come in with two short verses, but Nicki caps it all off with an incredibly-sung bridge right before the song’s end. It’s a radio-ready R&B track that sounds different than anything else on the album. With a packed guest list, this is a song “for the ladies” and it does its job well.

8) Pick These Hoes Apart (feat. Kodak Black, Jeezy, and French Montana)

As you would expect from a song with this title, “Pick These Hoes Apart” represents a shift back towards full-on hip-hop within the album. Featuring some of the most objectively-disgusting lines on the entire record, the song still gets some points for bringing together such a disparate group of rappers and shining a light on Kodak Black right as he was blowing up. It shows a lot of foresight on Khaled’s part. It’s also worth noting that the track features a great verse from French Montana who I’ve never particularly cared for, but he manages to utilize his brand of slurred half-sung rap here on a beat that sounds like it was made for him.

9) Fuck Up the Club (feat. Future, Rick Ross, YG, and Yo Gotti)

The album’s hip-hop mode is decidedly back in full swing on “Fuck Up the Club” which features the album’s second supremely-repetitive Future hook, a roster of legit street rappers, and an absolute banger of a beat. The track sees YG and Yo Gotti at the height of their powers after their high-profile releases of Still Brazy and “Champions” respectively. Everyone comes in with heat, and the track’s beat is relentless with little breathing room for anything besides explosive forward momentum.

10) Work for It (feat. Big Sean, Gucci Mane, and 2 Chainz)

Arguably one of the most star-studded tracks on the album, “Work for It” subverts expectations by being a bit of a slower track that finds Big Sean at the helm. It really does telegraph the sound on Sean’s upcoming I Decided. but remains a track that fits its other guests suitably. It’s apparent that the recently-released Gucci and always-humorous Titti Boi were both in “creation mode” on this track amidst a slew of their own 2016 releases. It may not change the Big Sean hater’s minds, but it’s a left turn that I didn’t see when first listening to the album.

11) Don’t Ever Play Yourself (feat. Jadakiss, Fabolous, Fat Joe, Busta Rhymes, and Kent Jones)

With a lineup of guests who are all in their 40’s (Kent Jones notwithstanding) I see “Don’t Ever Play Yourself” as the dedicated “oldhead” song on the album. Reminiscent of Compton’s “Loose Cannons,” or “One Shot One Kill” this track sounds like a different generation of rappers who all decided to hop on a track with one thing to prove: that they’re far from “too old this shit.” It’s apparent why these rappers have all stuck around, they all have different voices and at this point, they’ve honed their craft enough to make it all look effortless.

12) Tourist (feat. Travis Scott and Lil Wayne)

“Tourist” had been floating around the internet for about a year at this point as a semi-unfinished Travis Scott solo song. In its appearance on Major Key, we hear a remastered version with a surprise Lil Wayne feature added on and (luckily) little-to-no Khaled yelling. It’s a hazy track that retains the signature Travis Scott sound while echoing 3500’s drowsy unwinding instrumental.

13) Forgive Me Father (feat. Meghan Trainor, Wiz Khalifa, and Wale)

When Major Key’s tracklist was officially released a few weeks before the album’s drop, I remember one thing concretely: the internet’s reaction to this song’s feature list. First off: what a weird collection of people. Second: Wiz is washed. Third: Meghan Trainor? The “All About That Bass” chick? I don’t know why, but I’d like to pat myself on the back for believing that this song wouldn't be as bad as everyone was expecting it to be. I may just love being a contradictory fuck, and maybe it’s just because I went in with low expectations, but I find “Forgive Me Father” a corny, yet inspirational song that isn’t offensive in the least.

14) Progress

The last song on Major Key sees Khaled ceding Major Key to Jamaican singer Mavado. This is actually the second time this handoff has happened (with the third instance occurring on 2017’s Grateful) perhaps signaling a new inner-album tradition. It’s a tropical island song that calls to mind flashes of Khaled’s snapchat stories watering and talking to his flowers in a sunny yard. It’s a “full circle” song about progress that serves as the perfect conclusion to the album by encapsulating everything we’ve heard up until that point.

Major Key has a little bit of everything. Like most DJ Khaled records you could cherry pick single songs for the right mood, but it also holds together surprisingly well as an album. There’s no “journey” or “resolution” but you could easily sit down and listen to all 58 minutes of this and enjoy yourself. It’s a great summer album and has enough variation to keep you wondering (or excited for) what’s coming next. It’s a “playlist” before Drake did the same thing a year later. That’s not to say all DJ Khaled albums aren’t playlists (because they’re all like this) but Major Key is the first time it crystallized into something substantive that was fully enjoyable from beginning to end.

In contrast, 2017’s Grateful is overly-long (21 tracks and almost 90 minutes) and released in direct contrast to Calvin Harris’ polished Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 which did the “DJ Khaled thing” in a better, more pointed way. But all this said I do believe Major Key to be a legitimately great hip-hop album that stands on its own. I’m honestly in shock I was able to write 1,000+ words about it, and I guess that endorsement speaks for itself more than my praise ever can.

It’s an interesting dichotomy because Grateful featured songs like “I’m The One” and “Wild Thoughts” which were unequivocally more successful than anything off of Major Key. It ties back to the discussion I carried out earlier this month about the crossroads between commercial success and artistic fulfillment. Major Key was no flop, but by all accounts Grateful is shaping up to be a technically more successful album. I think that Major Key stands on its own better on an artistic level, but there’s certainly a difference between the two records.

“I’m the One” has been an earworm (and chart-topper) since its release as a single in late April, I’ll give it that. But I’d still pick Major Key over it, even if it doesn’t have the “single power” of Grateful. And (to circle back to the original topic) I’m not saying Major Key is high art. This shit isn’t Abbey Road, It’s not Darkside, it’s not even Cat Scratch Fever. For as much as I wrote above, I still think this album is only one step above mediocrity on an artistic level. It will probably age horribly in a few years, it has some questionable lyrics, and as a whole, it’s just a good collection of tracks rather than a compelling vision carried out by one creative force.

The point is, even with all those things weighing it down, it’s great at what it needs to be. Grateful isn’t as good as what it needed to be (which was the same thing as Major Key), but in the end, they both pale in comparison to albums that were crafted with time, care, and artistry. I’m not saying DJ Khaled isn’t those things, I’m just saying Major Key succeeds in every goal that it sets out to do. It doesn’t aim high, so it shouldn’t be judged on that level. Major Key is a stellar collection of incredibly-varied tracks that bring together a wide roster of hip-hop artists large and small. No two tracks sound alike, DJ Khaled plays an excellent role as artistic curator, and everything comes together nicely. On that scale, it’s as far from mediocrity as you can get.

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thezerolevel · 8 years ago

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Cheapskate Reviews Everlasting Summer

For those of you who aren’t familiar with the genre, the visual novel is kinda sorta like an illustrated Choose Your Own Adventure story, except that you may go thousands of words between decisions. The stories are generally novel-length. The first visual novels were Japanese and used anime-style art, and that convention has stuck. Visual novels are usually centered around dating: pick the right decisions and you can date, and have cartoon sex with, the girl of your choice.

And I do mean “girl.” Most visual novels have a high-school-age setting. Their target market is lonely young men who spend too much time on their computers. *glances uncomfortably in the mirror* I can’t imagine that the setting is because men like that have fond memories of high school per se, but I suspect that the student years hold a certain fascination to them because it was the last time in their lives that they were guaranteed interaction with the opposite sex: today, many of these Lost Boys only talk to women when they hand over money to a woman at a cash register, or when they try desperately to impress their favorite YouTube stars with adoring comments.

And where would you expect to find a lot of lonely young men who want to imagine a life where someone cares for them? If you guessed “Russia,” you either cheated by reading the Cyrillic in the title card, or you guessed correctly! Russia’s reputation as a land of unhappy people is born out by statistics: its suicide rate for men is the seventh highest in the world. As its economy continues to falter, many young Russian men find themselves alone, afraid, and directionless.

So naturally, a group of Russian hobbyists put together a free visual novel aimed at their local market, “Everlasting Summer,” and it’s been translated into English. Which is good news for me. I studied Russian in undergrad, but I only remember a few words and phrases, ranging from mildly useful (что случилось, “what happened?”) to gibberish (Я хочу смелую народную акулу, “I want a bold national shark”).

The hero of this visual novel is Semyon, who lives anonymously in a huge city (implied to be Moscow). He dropped out of college, has no job, and idles on 2chan (the Russian 4chan) all day. He has recurring dreams of a camp gate and a girl’s voice. One day, he hops the bus, and finds himself at that very gate.

The camp gates. The English translation features notes on Russian culture in the corner, but doesn’t explain what’s holding that umlaut in place.

This is Sovyonok Pioneer Camp, a summer camp for members of the Pioneers. The Pioneers were the Communist equivalent of the Scouts. (There’s no truth to the rumor that Pioneer Webelos stood for “We’ll Be Loyal Soviets.” I mean, come on. There’s no “w” in Russian.) Semyon soon realizes that it’s the eighties for some reason, and the camp leader, Olga Dmitrievna (if you don’t know why she’s always called Olga Dmitrievna, the game will tell you) has mistaken him for one of the campers. The Soviet setting and the time travel doesn’t affect the game much—you won’t see any signs of food shortages or perestroika or anything like that.

From there, you get your introduction to your four dating options. Slavya is the sweet and innocent blonde who spends her time helping Olga Dmitrievna. Lena is the shy brunette who buries her nose in a book. Alisa is the dangerous blonde who punches people out and plays rock music. And Ulyana… ugh. Ulyana.

So this is a dating game, right? And the prologue states that all the characters are over age 18. But let’s look at the facts.

Lil’ sister, don’t you do what your big sister done.

Ulyana is about a head shorter than all the other characters. She’s shockingly immature, throwing bugs in people’s food and so forth. People suggest that Semyon give Ulyana a doll. Semyon asks Slavya for advice on how fourteen-year-olds act when dealing with Ulyana. In summary, ugh. The good news is that there’s no sex scene with her, and I felt like the worst person in the world racing through her storyline just to confirm that no, Steam is not carrying something that will get you arrested. (In fact, if you’re playing the Steam version, all the sex scenes will be blacked out unless you choose otherwise.)

Over the next few days, Semyon interacts with the girls, as well as with a few other campers and camp staff members who exist mainly for comedy purposes. (One of them, Miku, is the star of a bonus storyline.) If you make the right choices, Semyon may meet these women again in the waking world. If not…

Background art is one of this story’s strengths.

I was quite happy with the painted backgrounds. The game’s text says they’re supposed to remind you of nineteenth-century landscapes, and while that isn’t quite the case, I found them to be gorgeous anyway. The lead background artist, ArsenixC, has a DeviantArt gallery where you can take a look at his effective use of light and shadow.

The character art, in contrast, is a disappointment. The designs are bog-standard anime, and the character appearances in cut scenes are sometimes off-model. There’s one shot where the top half of Slavya’s head appears to be swelling up, and another where Lena seems to be wearing a funnel-shaped bra. I think the game’s setting would have benefited if they’d used an art style that you’d be more likely to see in Russia.

Bonus points for not using the ubiquitous Kevin MacLeod of Incompetech for the soundtrack. Sergey Eybog and Between August and December split the soundtrack duties. Eybog wrote a memorable theme song, with a few other pieces that also fit the game’s mood. “A Promise from Distant Days” is wonderfully wistful. The best of the Between August and December tracks is Alisa’s theme, “That’s our Madhouse,” a good old-fashioned rock and roll number that’s a lot of fun. A few musical selections confused me. The camp nurse gets a song that had me convinced that the nurse would eventually try to seduce Semyon (she didn’t) and for some reason the communal shower is accompanied by an off-brand version of “The Girl from Ipanema.”

There’s a mini game in which you play a strange poker variant that involves trading cards with your opponent. You have to play against Ulyana twice, because Ulyana is an asshole. I don’t know why the game didn’t just use standard poker, but I didn’t mind playing.

The biggest selling point for a visual novel is, of course, the story. The weakest element of this story is the characterization.

Olga Dmitrievna chews out Alisa for a uniform violation.

The generally-accepted king of the mountain for visual novels—in English, at least—is Katawa Shoujo, in which the player competes for the hearts of girls with disabilities. The biggest reason for this praise is that the girls each have their own plot arcs and characterizations. None of them are the people they initially seem to be. In contrast, first impressions will go a long way in Everlasting Summer. Only one of the girls turns out to have characteristics that you wouldn’t immediately guess upon meeting them. Then again, the girls in Everlasting Summer aren’t necessarily real. They’re in a dream world, or whatever the hell the Sovyonok camp is (even the bonus endings don’t make it clear).

Rather than serving as characters of their own, the girls in Everlasting Summer are message delivery systems. Each story has a theme, and each of those themes is about a way that lonely, directionless people can find meaning in their lives. Of the four stories, Lena’s story and Ulyana’s (ugh) story stick most closely to their themes, which I won’t spoil for you. Slavya’s theme is somewhat unfocused. I thought that the theme was going to be that you could find meaning in life by serving other people, but the ending swerved towards something else. And I think I know what Alisa’s theme was, but it wasn’t clearly conveyed.

Slavya’s the Nice One.

While the plot and the characterization are hit-or-miss, Everlasting Summer deserves credit for its fine use of language. The translations from Russian are a bit literal, but they are vivid. For instance, Semyon describes the dream world as “just like on the other side of the cracked screen of an old TV, which struggles to fight against static noise and strives to show its audience everything without missing a single detail.” He remembers his first love as “[t]ransient images, a shadow slipping away and vanishing in the city haze. I can’t catch her among the buildings and corners.”

When combined with the artwork and the music, Semyon’s musings do an excellent job of creating a mood: the mood of the isolated young man whose dreams are dying, who is realizing that the world is leaving him behind, and who is still reluctant to change. That was my life from 2001 to 2005, so I speak from experience here. Using my English-teacher roommate’s definition of art as “the infliction of emotion,” I think this game would qualify as art.

The Everlasting Summer team is working on a second game. I’m curious to see how they’ve improved. In the meantime, I think Everlasting Summer is worth picking up, as long as you avoid the odious Ulyana route.

Cheapskate Reviews Everlasting Summer was originally published on Channel Zero

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