#but in actuality they aren't anything like we've imagined and we end up making ourselves upset

[cryptidafter]

you know, I think what I really appreciate about Pang and Jan is that sometimes you meet people who you might not be that into at first but once you get to know them better, you realize that you're quite a good match. They decided to take a chance with each other and that's really cool!

or slow burn friends to lovers, for the chronically online lol

[msookyspooky]

Sooo I see you need advice 👀 I DID NOT THINK YOU WOULD ACTUALLY CONSIDER JASON HOLY SHIT 😂 THINGS GOT SO REAL. Listennnn as much as I think Jason is hot...hear me out...I think Kincaid is the better option 👀 I can already hear the Jason simps coming for me BUT HEAR ME OUT. Jason is so toxic lol if you want your story to be more REALISTIC obv u should stick with Kincaid since HE ACTUALLY HAS A CHANCE. Jason is too much like Billy and after everything we've been through there's no way we would probably associate ourselves with him. I feel like us showing any interest in Jason would make us look like a dumbass who can't learn our lesson 🤐 it'd be out of character to not see the warning signs with our PTSD and major trust issues too.

I don't think we should risk our character looking dumb. IM SORRY, BUT NO 😂😭 James, Stu and Billy, then Jason? It's the same song and dance ALL OVER AGAIN. Sure, we all know the attraction is going to be one-sided even if it's Kincaid, but at least with Kincaid I can see us TRUSTING HIM. I couldn't imagine us even being friends with Jason UNLESS we try to see the good in him BUT EVEN THEN, I would think we'd suspect his bs and he'd get killed off early from Billy and Stu simply cause their scared he'll do something to us.

BOTH would put up a good fight, but like you said it's inevitable that Jason will die bc it's 2 against one. The only way Jason could probably survive is if he had a partner 👀 if we were to actually TEAM UP WITH HIM. This could be very interesting for the plot, but it could be out of character unless we've known Jason for a while. You could tie this back to our past and be like 'okay, y/n meets Jason, an old friend/lover from her OLD HIGHSCHOOL, someone she has old, good memories with.' That right there could explain us feeling an inclination to trust him, however, I still feel like we'd end up looking like a clown who can't see the signs of a psycho 🤡 you know? it'd butcher our character development to fall for his act, even if he is from our past and we used to know him. If there's anything we've learned from Woodsboro, it's that u can't trust old friends/lovers lmao

With Kincaid on the other hand, there's a higher chance of him surviving. He's got the police backing him up after all. HE'S A COP, so we would trust him pretty easily automatically. It would be realistic for us to get close to him since he's going to literally be helping us to survive. I could actually picture us being receptive to his feelings, whereas with Jason I feel like IF we felt an attraction, we'd be self-aware enough to realize that the feelings AREN'T real. With JASON, after literally thinking we had feelings for Randy and Derek in the past, do you REALLY think we'd make the same mistake? The same mistake of comparing another guy to Billy and Stu and CONVINCING ourselves that we like them? HELL NO. I feel like obv we're going to be more mature and ALOT MORE SELF-AWARE AFTER SEVERAL YEARS. I can't imagine us confusing our feelings ALL OVER AGAIN. It would legit piss me off since I consider myself a very self-aware person 😭

With Kincaid, you could also do the same thing with his character by bringing up our past. You could be like 'Y/n grew up with Kincaid as a child. The two briefly dated in high school BEFORE she moved to Woodsboro. The two decide to catch up over lunch and realize how much they missed being friends.' This is just another idea for making us trust Kincaid more and giving us more backstory. Kincaid having a past with us will also make STU AND BILLY MORE JEALOUS. Him being a cop is gonna drive them crazy, BUT FOR HIM TO BE AN OLD FRIEND OR EX BF THEY NEVER HEARD OF?! You can't tell me that wouldn't bug the hell out of them lmaoooo they'll feel insecure that another guy could have known us intimately before them and that this guy knows more about us than even, they do. They'll probably be thinking we lost our virginity to him and be livid 😂 they'll be livid he's a cop sooo he's gonna give them a run for their money.

With Jason, I feel like they'd be LESS JEALOUS bc altho he's like Billy, they may think the only reason we might reciprocate feelings is bc he's similar to them. They may rationalize this in their head and think 'oh yeah, there's no way she's over us if she likes someone just like us.' They'd be less jealous bc they may think we're confusing our feelings. I also feel like they may be MORE SCARED of what Jason could do to us then jealous of him just bc of how he's got them bad boy vibes and they could be worried Jason could become physically abusive. He would remind them too much of James's abusive ass and altho they don't wanna admit it, they still care and would kill him for laying a hand on us 🥴

Whereas with Kincaid, even if you don't want him to have a past with us, I still FIRMLY BELIEVE Billy and Stu would be more jealous of him bc he's everything they're not. With Jason, there's the comfort of knowing we might not be over them, right? They'd be livid, but it's probably there. But with Kincaid, there isn't that comfort bc he's the complete opposite of them. There's no trying to say 'oh, she only likes him cause he reminds her of us' bc HE DOESN'T. He's sooo different that Billy and Stu are going to be pissed that we might have actually moved on. They're going to be jealous that he's kind, has a good job, that he isn't crazy like them and can actually give us what we need.

Overall, with Mark, we have a chance of HURTING THEM. Why? bc Mark will be OUR HERO. Remember when Stu and Billy took pride in killing James and trying to protect us from Randy's accusations? How Stu always tried to protect us from Billy's temper and killing us? You can't tell me these two didn't enjoy protecting us, especially Stu. Stu even said in Sequels Suck, "You don't have me protecting you anymore." They kinda have a savior complex I feel like deep down and to have their roles REPLACED? To see us have a guy who's willing to do anything to protect us and is able to do it successfully? IT'S GONNA HURT. AND THEY DESERVE TO GET HURT AND FEEL LOWKEY REPLACED 🙃

This took way too long to type 😂 I wouldn't mind Jason, but clearly, I prefer Mark 😏😂 I just feel like most would prefer Jason to have his own series and possibly not die in it lol I myself would prefer Billy and Stu despising him in his own series and tryna steal us away 😍 And I just want a normal guy to like us, you know? Give us an ounce of normality. In the end, whatever you choose is bound to be good tho ❤

THIS.

This is my exact thought process too. We are trying to get into a career of Criminology we aren't that stupid to trust JD again at 23 yrs old after everything at Woodsboro and Windsor.

Listen, I get it. JD is the OG bad boy with psychological issues. But Billy would see him as competition in a mocking way and kill him instantly and Stu would just plan out not like him. I actually think JD would be crazier than Billy and Stu. Idk why but JD feels more unhinged than they do and it would be a disservice to our character to repeat old mistakes all over again.

After Sequels Suck; the romantic tension is going to be much more focused on the boys. Mark Kincaid may be a distraction and the boys themselves think he's more of an option than he really is (Just to make them insecure and pacing the floor while we're at the station and they can't even get near it) but nothing to the level the Derek, Randy, Billy Stu thing is in Sequels Suck. When with JD, he's such a fan fav that if I kill him or have him rejected; some fans r gonna be upset.

Kincaid is everything they will never be. Period. And that has them nervous and hurt and desperate. And there won't be a damn thing they can do about it for once. With how much of a control freak Billy is and how emotionally impulsive Stu is...That's gonna sting.

I'm pretty decided on Kincaid and JD will have his own story. (Like, this story doesn't exist and JD moved to Woodsboro right when Billy and Stu were crushing on us sort of thing) Thanks for the suggestion of him being a childhood friend or ex; that could work 🤔

[lovee-infected]

twisted wonderland theories (part 2 ): Overblot's timeline

Oh well , seems like I accidentally deleted my previous ask while answering it...

Dear @ I don't remember your personal tag since I FORGOT to take a screenshot from the ask , I dearly apologize and I hope you get to read this anyway ❤

The ask was about the monster we faught during our first battle and the possibility of it being the overblot grim

I've been considering writing this for a while so here we go

(note : I wasn't planning on this theory to be part 2 but , why not?)

It has already been mentioned and theorized several times that the huge beast we faught during our first battle in the prolouge could actually be Grim because :

They're pretty similar in appearance and of course details

The blue fire and sharp teeth , together with tail and skin color

But let's not forget about the most important part : The signs of overblot

Just compare it to Riddle's overblot form and it'll become pretty obvious that this monster's definitely on its overblot

All these hints made us make sure that it's probably Grim..

But check this thing out :

fun fact : Did you too lose on your first battle against this creature?

Well you might feel a bit relieved after knowing that this battle was specifically designed to make all players lose on their first try . With enemy's 99999 Hp you won't be able to defeat it unless you make a team of five having 90000+ HP(It actually means to have 5 lv 100 groovy SSR cards )which isn't easy at all...might take months of permanent gaming to upgrade your team to 5 SSR to just have a chance of defeating this monster...

But what does this mean?

Was it just a coincidence and a simple randomly designed battle?

I don't think so

If they only meant to challenge the players by making them all lose their first battle , then why would they design the enemy to be awfully similar to Grim...?

Well it'll give us two possibilities : We'd face this monster again in the storyline and this time we have to surely defeat it . But considering it's awfully high HP , it's not gonna happen this soon . I'm almost sure that we won't face this monster before defeating the seven dorm leaders' overblot form , and who knows how long we've gotta wait until facing this monster again ?It isn't really clear now but we'd either have to fight it again in the upcoming chapters or we'll have to return to prolouge once again to face it one more time

But facing Grim's overblot form in the future of the game has given me another fancy idea :

If Grim , who plays the rule of MC's closest friend it the game is gonna be one to overblot after the seven leaders , then aren't we missing the high possibility of another overblot...?

Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade ; two of MC's closest friends (after Grim) who have been beside MC throughout the whole story

Let's be honest that aside the great seven and our mysterious Dire Crowley , the two of them play the most important rule in the game

Their rivalship has lead us plenty of adventures and let's not forget their mention in the opening :

See? The only non leader characters who have been put into this scene

their rivalship might seem to be no big deal , but it wouldn't have been mentioned this much if it weren't anything important...

(note : We all know that they're good friends but this isn't really going to stop their rivalship from causing a terrifying disaster...)

Also these two are sticking to each other the whole time , so I guess the both of them might evem overblot at the same time due to severe frustration , anger and jealousy

Since the game's going to be continued after chapter 7 in which we face overblot Malleus , we've got a lot to see about other characters and most likely their overblot . Except our beloved trio of 'Ace , Deuce and Grim' , the other first years as well have a terrifying chance of overbloting :

1) Sebek Zigvolt : Remove Malleus from his life and...what would be left from him...? He's way too obsessed with Malleus that even his biography is connected to Malleus (Good god his personality is really fading through his young master...) Also his sensitivity and moody personality has made him dangerously insecure and unstable

Anyways , if we're gonna consider possibility of other characters' overblot , this guy's gonna be nu 1... a simple disappointment from Malleus may cause him to overblot

2) Epel Felmier : He's really different from what he seems to be , isn't he? While having the face of a pure innocent cute guy , he's a little gremlin inside . Struggling with his unwanted fate and being put on Pomefiore's by force is really driving him crazy. His trying to prove himself to both Savanaclaw and Pomefiore students is just hilarious , but this isn't really gonna do him any good , is it? Well whatever this guy is currently up too , it's surely going to be interesting and maybe , sadistic . We don't know how much pain he might be feeling at the moment

3) Jack Howl : Personally I have no clue on why he might ever overblot. Despite his harsh appearance and seemingly cold personality , he's really calm and collected , protective over his friends , and mature . His side stories with Vil and Azul proved that he's also pretty acceptive toward judgement and really knows how to deal with different people and their different personalities....

Finally , all I've gotta say is , this game's background and characters' developments are simply amazing . I can't even imagine how much time and effort had been put into creating such a maze of mystery

In the very end , there's no way we could surely tell what will happen next . All we can do is to wait to see it ourselves

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Demon in Disguise x Angel Undercover

Summary: Being a demon was boring, particularly in peacetime. For Freed, passing the time consisted of sneaking into nightclubs and forcing men off the moral path. Thankfully, the angel with beautiful wings and almost rigid set of morals was always there to make things interesting.

Notes: This is Day Two of Fraxus Week, hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Be sure to look at their blog, I'm sure there's lot of other great Fraxus content on there for the event already.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

Off The Moral Path

Year: 2025

Location: Paris, France

"Come now, Darling," Freed purred, gently stroking the raven-haired beauty on the cheek. "You know you want to."

To think he'd come to this. Freed Justine – Albion the Slayer, Absolute Shadow, The Nightmares of Angels – resorted to flirting with men in a bar. It was humiliating. He was a soldier, a demonic mage whose power was the stuff of legends, and by rights everyone in the damned club should be bowing for him, on their knees and begging for his mercy. He would have been kind to them, were they giving him the respect he was owed, and perhaps he would have made their night more interesting with a display of his power.

But he couldn't. The war between demons and angels had long since ended, humans had forgotten about the battles and all the people who had been part of it, and as such they didn't know him. To them, Freed was nothing but another human. Better looking of course, but otherwise no different.

Frankly, it was boring.

War between unkillable forces was fun. You didn't have to worry about being hurt, because you couldn't be, and a demon didn't care for guilt. It was simply posturing, and it had allowed Freed to show off the magic that he'd been slowly building from his creation. He was explosively powerful, and he'd sent many of the enemy forces back to heaven time and time again. It was fun seeing them disintegrate as they screamed, but now that was gone.

Technically speaking, he shouldn't have even been in the nightclub at all. Earth was off limits, but he was hardly doing anything too bad. He wasn't poisoning a water system, or luring a man to his death. He was just having a little fun. Nobody could begrudge him a little magically fuelled flirting.

Well, one angel might. But he hadn't arrived yet.

"I dunno," The raven-haired man shrugged, swirling his drink absently.

"I do. You want to do it and you know it," Freed smirked, and his eyes glowed red for a moment. He placed his hand on the mans exposed forearm, and magic flared in his next words. "I'll do it if you will. And you've got nothing to be ashamed of."

A lie, but a fun one.

"You know what," The man said, confidence in his words now. "You're right."

The man was standing up a moment later, walking towards the raised stage with a pole attached to it, removing his shirt. Hm, if the sounds of the cheering at the sight were reflective of the mood, Freed had been right about him having nothing to be ashamed of. It was good guess; Freed really had no idea what a human saw as attractive anymore.

Freed watched from the bar, drinking his wine with a smirk as the man began to gyrate over the pole. Men and women alike cheered, and Freed liked to think that he had done his good deed for the day. Of course, the dancing man might disagree when the spell wore off, but that was hardly a problem.

He'd dispel his magic as the man was dancing. It would be fun to see him crumple.

"The hell are you doing?" A loud rumbling voice came from behind, and Freed smirked.

Right on time.

"What does it look like, my dear," Freed said, not looking towards the angel looming over him. "Exercising my Devil given right to annoy you. Is it working?"

"Take the spell off him," The angel demanded. "Now."

"During his dance. Imagine the embarrassment, it would be debilitatingly humiliating," Freed laughed quietly. "Would he be able to look himself in the mirror? Would he be allowed back out of his home? Would he cry? Rather cruel, aren't you angel?"

"Shut it, devil," The angel growled.

"So rude," Freed tutted while grinning. When a hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, Freed turned to look to the man. "Good evening, Laxus."

It was always disheartening to see Laxus disguised as a human. He was good looking in their terms, with broad shoulders, a thin waist, handsomely rugged features, and a damn cocky smirk when he used it. But Freed always missed seeing his wings. They were long stretching, tinged and scarred by lightning, with feathers so soft that Freed couldn't decide whether he wanted to stroke them or to pluck them out to see the man scream. He was a magnificent beast of an angel – the counterpart to Freed's demon – and very fun to annoy.

"Hypnosis on humans is fucking illegal," Laxus growled.

"Then it's good that I didn't use it," Freed dismissed, placing the wine on the bartop. "I only lowered his inhibitions. He's lost all doubt and regret, and he's simply doing what he wants to do. Hardly a war crime."

"Tell him that when the police come," Laxus murmured, and Freed laughed. Would the man be arrested before he was naked? Freed hoped not; human anatomy always made him chuckle. "You ain't supposed to be on earth. The hell is wrong with you?"

"You're here," Freed retorted, ignoring the question. "Won't you get in trouble too, angel?"

"I'm only here because I knew you were pulling this shit," Laxus whispered harshly, hand on Freed's shoulder tightening. "And I wanted to get you to cut it the hell out before," he jutted his chin up, "they figure out what you're doing."

"But the danger is half the fun," Freed smirked.

Laxus said nothing else, instead surrounding them both with a wave of angelic magic. As was natural for a demon, the overall holiness of the gesture sent a shooting of pain over Freed, but he grit his teeth and allowed the spell to take effect. A moment later, he was teleported to a blank, bland, nothing room nestled in the middle of limbo.

This was always how his little dance with Laxus went. Freed would sneak down to earth, annoy, and torment a human in a way with very few long-lasting consequences so that he could get a fill of fun, Laxus would somehow be informed of what Freed had done and would stop him before any other heavenly figures realised what he was doing, and he would be teleported away. It had happened hundreds of times, and always ended with Laxus yelling at him for his stupidity but never actually doing anything to stop him.

His face would soon be angry, and his wings would be spasming and flickering. Anger was a good look on the man.

But, truly, this dance was getting boring. They were all-powerful beings, opponents by very nature, who had met in the middle of battel and had underwent fights that would be studied for history in years to come. They shouldn't have gotten stuck in a rut. It was almost insulting.

"Why don't you leave me alone?" Freed asked before Laxus could begin shouting.

"What?" The angel asked, taken unaware.

"Well, I understand that your side likes to preach forgiveness and repentance and so on, so perhaps I can understand you trying to stop me the first ten or so times, but we've been doing this for years now," Freed smirked, leaning forward and leaning against a white table. He looked up at Laxus from under his lashes, flirtatious and smirking. "I'm not changing my ways, and you know it. So why not leave me to get killed by your darling overlords?"

Laxus tensed his jaw, grit his teeth, and let his wings shoot out from his back. What a lovely sight. Freed quickly removed his own human disguise, horns cracking from his skull and eyes turning a red and purple swirl.

"Everyone can improve," Laxus retorted. "I think that, given-"

"I've known you for centuries, Laxus, I know when you're parroting that ridiculous heavenly mantra," Freed cut off the argument before it could be made. "I want to know why you, angel supreme Laxus Dreyar, is being ever so kind to me so often."

He said nothing, and Freed grinned.

"May I offer my thoughts, since you don't seem to want to answer," Freed continued. "I think we're more alike than you think. You and I, you see, we're fighters. You can claim pacifism all you want, but I know you loved every moment of engagement. Showing off your power, proving yourself to be an overwhelming force of nature, it was everything you ever wanted. And then it was taken away from you, and you were at a loss of what you could do. Everything was peaceful and there was nobody to do battle with. Nobody to impress. Nobody but me."

"That ain't what happened," Laxus grunted. He walked towards a door Freed assumed would take him back to heaven, and Freed quickly intercepted.

"It's exactly what happened. I'm your opponent, in this little game we've created for ourselves," Freed smirked, took a single step forward so he was in Laxus' space and yet not quite touching him. "It was fun, as games go, but I think we should move past it. Flip the board and do something a little more," he smirked, and raked his claws over Laxus chest before hissing, "tactile."

Laxus' face held an expression Freed was familiar with. He was on the brink of doing something he wanted to do more than anything, but knew it was wrong. A look that, on humans, brought Freed a giddy thrill.

Seeing it on Laxus was euphoria.

The angel swallowed slightly, looking over Freed's face, his claws, his horns and then back to his face again. His eyes were dilated just a little, body tensing and muscles hardening as if he was trying to steel his resolve. He was so close to breaking, and making both of their lives both more pleasurable and much more interesting. He just needed a nudge. Freed was happy to oblige.

"That was the problem with the war, I feel," He purred, voice like silk and seductive. "Place men of unsurmountable power together and make them fight. It fuels passion. We were purpose built to feel strongly about one another. To obsess over one another. To rely on one another," He raised his hand and dug his claws into Laxus' jaw. "What did they think would happen when we could no longer fight? Falling for each other was inevitable."

"I ain't fallen, not for you," Laxus murmured as he leant close to Freed, tenseness giving way. He was even smiling, ever so slightly, and that was all the encouragement that he needed.

"Aren't you?" Freed grinned, stroking Laxus' cheek and loving the restrained mewling that bubbled in the angel's throat.

"No," Laxus murmured, bringing his lips closer to Freed, and his grin was just as unhindered as Freed's.

"Well," Freed purred, pressing into Laxus' chest. "Put your money where your mouth is then."

He closed the gap between them, and two millenniums of tension exploded to life in a slow, tender kiss. The mixture of magics gave their kiss a burning, fizzing sensation that spurred them both on. The contrast of their bodies stung and felt fantastic, addictively peculiar and driving them to kiss harder.

Laxus' wings outstretched behind him, then wrapped around them both. The comforting feathers tingled at Freed's back, and he leant against the man with a smirk as they pulled apart. Laxus was smiling at him, not a lingering sense of doubt in sight, and Freed grinned.

As fun as it would have been to taint an angel, bring him to his knees and make him turn his back on his culture, Freed had truly believed his words. They were fated to be together; it only made sense. Freed had broken countless rules set after the war, and he should have been struck down by lightning or burned at the stake for his crimes. Even with Laxus looking over him, the powers of fate were more powerful, and breaking of the rules came with immediate punishment. He hadn't been killed, despite his flagrant disregard of the rules. There was a reason for that, and he liked to think he'd been saved for Laxus. The fact Laxus had showed no regret, nor no fear about what he had done, seemed to suggest Laxus agreed with the sentiment.

Now, Freed was in a new game, a much more fun one. A game where it wasn't simply a demon fighting against an angel. No, this game had only one side. A flirtatious demon with an abhorrence for boredom, and his darling, virtuous fallen angel. Who would dare oppose them?

Le Parisien – 02.11.2025

Une Célébrité Populaire Prise Dans Le Scandale De La Nudité En Public.

Hier soir, le chanteur et danseur populaire Grey Fullbuster a été arrêté à Paris. Les rapports ont affirmé que, dans une démonstration de confiance ivre, il est monté au sommet d'une scène dans la discothèque Devil's Door, et a commencé à enlever tous ses vêtements et à danser contre un poteau. Les réactions à la situation vont du dégoût moral au plaisir divertissant. Dans une déclaration faite par le manager du chanteur, Fullbuster a affirmé que "Le diable m'a fait le faire".

[greaterlandscapes]

My Dean Blunt Rotation aka High Fidelity Left A Bad Taste in My Mouth

For the past 2 to 3 months, my listening habits were teetering to an end; mostly via burnout by spontaneously listening to local artists daily and less likely of a musical discovery drought, whereas my interests of a certain artist or genre hasn't found its, sort of, "eureka", moment per se. I've been feeling less enthusiastic over the things i listen to since my friends have gradually lost their flare when it comes to discovering/exploring untapped parts of the music realm. Thus, in return, my enthusiasm not being reciprocated. It leaves an empty feeling from someone who has been yearning social interaction, may it be media being latched on the topic - it's a feeling that's been guilt-tripping me ever since I was stranded in the other end of the metro. I feel closed off, exposed to the crippling loneliness the lockdown has punished us: a defacto solitary confinement in a national level. Our act of staying online is also an act of staying alive outside.

To be fair though, it's a valid move to not boomerang compliments/gripes over an art you haven't consumed due to someone's autonomy. Your able body being to consume the art you wish to finish with free time is a luxury in of itself. The art is then failed to serve its purpose to reach its goal: You have squiggly lines heading straight to oblivion rather than swirling in the earlobes of a wandering cyber nomad. We, eventually, need to find something that could help us exit, rather than escape, from capital. We, in return, do not shut ourselves from the outside. Instead, we then tend to avoid the stress of protocols and outdoor fascism; Not avoid the indoor liberalism that is eating us alive and online. It's a capital punishment we never knew we signed up for ever since the onslaught of the virus and the state. Art for art's sake is nonexistent now, always has been, it seizes to ever since we went inside. Feeding off of a holographic meatloaf coming from a glowing screen. We have a real-life Karen acting as a nightlight in our rooms.

The COVID lockdown made us listen to music — both for better, for worse. For one, it made us pass most days. You could say the same for any sort of media: film, mixed media art, or whatever pre-Covid activity that sprung up during our time in isolation. For music, however, there was an uptick of new listeners that made others Wheel-of-Fortune the fuck out of their music discoveries in sites like RateYourMusic, Bandcamp, or even Sophie's Floorboard. We've continued to expand and became more open change of opinions and be less of a jackass towards someone else's opinions. On second thought, our opinions have been catalogued, leaving more notes than actual footprints of our previous listens. Our new discoveries made new bands and re-emerging bands, bands who faded to obscurity, crawl back in the surface with newfound interest from younger listeners (ie Panchiko, Jai Paul, and Dean Blunt) and this glowing, previously unseen and unexpected overwhelming support from fans of departed artists (ie SOPHIE, MF DOOM)

For the other, we've hogged gratuitous amounts of media, resulting into losing our primary direction as to how we want to consume our media based on the preconceived notions of what we want in our art. There is goodness in becoming directionless when you think about it, but there comes a cost to our identity as music listeners. Instead, we end up widening our tangents, falling in endless rabbit holes, having zero chances to emerge from the surface. In fact, i refuse to call it a "rabbit hole" instead i'd rather call it a "pipeline" of sorts — transitioning casual music fans into a full on, different, unique versions of themselves that would define them when laws and protocols have eased in the outside world. Our act of staying online has either made most of us break our character or enliven our past selves. The music pipeline is now more apparent, stretching the norms of what was once alienated by a silent majority, but now accepted as an acceptable form of expression. The more music we are exposed to has made casual listeners stranged out or react in ways that our personality have betrayed us or deemed not as acceptable to them. Still, not changing anything that was prominent pre-pandemic. Liberal cop behavior is stronger, now more dangerous than it ever was once perceived by the outside world.

HIGH FIDELITY? NO, THANK YOU.

Imagine a situation inside of a record, pre-pandemic of course, where you do not feel like lifting a record out from the shelf, instead, you window shop just for the sake of windowshopping. Capital and media made us think that going to record shops is a semi-productive activity. The age of discovery has died ever since High Fidelity romanticized and normalized the incelage of horny record diggers. Does this movie age well, yeah sure it does, for old 90s nerds at least. But did it translate well over in the past 20 or more years of events and tragedies that unfolded in pre-9/11 America? No it didn't. It was an age of free expression, only liberals would dream of whenever they take a sip of Guinness beer in their favorite dive bar.

Mind you, over a couple of months ago, it was my only chance in seeing why this movie was the talk of the town back when it was released. There's music, yeah, and attractive leading leadies, yeah, it has everything a 90s kid would love to salivate and drop their gonads over while they watch this movie. I obviously did not live to see the movie on opening day but i could imagine the scent that came out of that movie theater with attendees donning windbreakers and The Who shirts with popcorn dressing stains on their plastic cups. If there was a Filipino counterpart to this movie, i'd bet corporate champions Eraserheads and Rivermaya would soundtrack their music over and have either Tado or have Boy 2 Quizon, but i sense it to age like milk more than it could age like fine wine due to the senseless jokes one can execute in a Cubao or Cartimar record store.

John Cusack is obviously the incel in question here: a damaged, vengeful ex who constantly fails to live his partner's expectations and weaponizes his personality over the situations that has nothing to do with his interests. I spent the entire time being absolutely disgusted over the spineless responses of John Cusack's leading character. The movie then treads on flashbacks with John Cusack's failed relationships and what he could do to move on from each and one of them. If i could stand a SONA for 3 hours then I can't stand John Cusack being the dull entry point to incel, making more reasons why you should hate record store clerks who don't give an iota of shits to someone's inviting rapport. High Fidelity is opium for massive music circle jerks who can't take a single breathe of fresh air or a single quota of touching grass. There's more targeting weak and inferior guys and hot women who dump dumb overconfident dudebros more than the actual "music recs" in the entire movie. The more I think about this movie, the more I realize how our personality is in line towards Dick, the record store being unmercifully dunked on by the movie's two leading characters. He's an angel in the world of cynical bastards, witnessing both demons pitchforking record store customers in the ass while they're purchasing the latest Sonic Youth album.

I believe that Jack Black, the dark horse of High Fidelity, has a pleasing personality more than an irritating demeanor due to this behavior in the record store. In fact, outside of the record store, Jack Black doesn't seem to take the business is your pleasure act pretty seriously. Unlike John Cusack's character he brought his obsession over involving a record in an important memory/point of his life. There is so much stuff that has happened outside of the record store, so much for Rolling Stone and NME being the bible of music at the time, endlessly christening and shilling artists that believe to become the second coming of the Beatles. The music references here however are treated as fluff than it is a mechanism that would drive the senseless plot forward. If anything, there are events pointed out in the event that doesn't have anything to do with the life of the characters.

If anything, this movie did a great job at capturing the feeling of music bros being dumped on the wayside by a mature set of characters and how their current conditions aren't perfumed by the studios' liking of having to Cinderella story the shit out of a bunch of normal record store owners. The reality is in the reaction of one's social capital being invaded and we're here to witness how those reactions panned out in 2021. This is a villainous depiction of music nerds being the salt of the earth, the bane of all media discussion, still reflective of the insufferable salt of cyberspace found in music forums like 4chan and RYM. High Fidelity is a pipeline of 90s musicology, a dreaded fever dream of an owner waiting for the decade to end, trends ossifying and re-emerged by the hands of nostalgia-savvy individuals. It was, at its time, every music-movie nerd's excuse equivalent of Scott Pilgrim VS. The World. There are memories worth remembering and cherishing, and this movie isn't one of them.

DEAN BLUNT, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

In the past two weeks I've been fancying myself into sitting down and listening to different projects from the ever elusive, UK-based sound artist Dean Blunt. The first time i chanced upon his music wasn't too long ago - albeit a recent one in the time of COVID - was when I randomly stumbled upon his records at a Spotify recommendations section under John Maus (yeah lol i know the implications whenever his name is mentioned) - but then i was enamored by his online presence so quickly I put everything down and dedicated an hour or two researching about this man's music.

Other than the fact that his album "The Redeemer" wasn't the best record to start off in journeying through his discography: ending up disgusted and borderline bored even and I was more likely to lambast this record's aimless, pretentious art-pop inflections. By the end of the day, it was a preference long solidified by his undying fanbase. According to his hardcore fans, the music isn't really music, evaluating it as a free form of sound art, rather than sticking to a structured and conventional cues; the genre is nullified by most analysts of the arts. The growing interest of the general public towards Dean Blunt's pranks and antics have long appealed to my tastes as a chaotic neutral individual. Pranks that are well executed to piss off UK gallery connoisseurs and entertain ironic attendees who'd shit on the art piece rather than participate in it.

More of the resources I've found about Dean Blunt online: numerous aliases and collaborations that lasted around almost 2 decades. The most notable of all them, at least for my money, are either Hype Williams, a duo consisting of Dean and frequent collaborator Inga Copeland, and Babyfather, an art performance parodizing the pirate radio culture in the UK. I have not delved enough in Blunt's body of work to evaluate everything and what i could synthesize from it. For now, I enjoyed it as a form of entertainment. Well, color me impressed because Dean Blunt isn't clowning around, he, in fact, makes blissful and transcendental music from left to right.

Dean Blunt was the only few artists that made me want to binge on their discography. His movements in his music has attracted this pesky listener who thinks that being mysterious is a plus. I mean, look at me who thinks The Paul Institute, Panchiko, and Burial are the greatest artists that have walked the face of the earth.

The most I've enjoyed from Dean Blunt's discography are his mixtapes and collaborations: preferably his Soul Fire and ZUSHI, both of which were packaged as B-sides or supplemental releases rather than major releases such as the Babyfather project or the Black Metal releases. His knack for blurring the lines between genres still fascinate me as of this writing, and it continues to amaze me how he doesn't seize to compromise his art, he's here to prove a point and it sells quite well despite the lack of direction in his music. Blunt's music has more aggressive and hazy texture than the hollow, wide, soulless structure of art-pop/hypnagogic pop released today. He creates terrains from the rubble of his country's current shortcomings. The music overlaps the actual intentions with abstract concepts, becoming deconstructed down the line. In Babyfather, noise music coincides with Blunt's amateurish rapping. In Black Metal, Blunt isolates himself along with the assisted skeletal guitar playing. Both projects throwing all tropes in a vaccum alongside Blunt, who he himself would sought to become a personification of a musical void.

--

(Excerpt from the Babyfather album review in TinyMixtapes)

--

Dean Blunt is an entity that wishes to become one person, but no, this isn't a figure in a specific art form; this isn't Banksy, this isn't Bob Ong, this is made by one person, clearly it is if you listen closely, and it's been entrancing me ever since his presence was felt on the horizons of the internet. Dean Blunt, what the actual fuck.

[katedrakeohd]

Personal Shopper

A Choices : Save the Date Fanfiction

Pairing: MC Stella Jennings and Martin Mercado (Justin)

Rated: PG for language.

Word count: approx. 2800

Context: Martin calls Stella and asks for a favor.

Author's note: Stella's personal thoughts appear in italics

Tagging:

@dailydoseofchoices @sanvivrma @samihatuli @gardeningourmet @lovealexhunt @princess-geek @loveofafangirl @storyofmychoices @msjpuddleduck @perriewinklenerdie @thepotatobleh @shrinkthisviolet @griselda1121 @iamnotjesha @desiree-0816

*************

I'm standing in the bridal boutique with Lindsay finalizing our plans to attend the Wedding convention in Niagara Falls, when my phone starts ringing. Without looking at the caller ID I answer, “Hello, Jennings Wedding Planners. We make weddings spectacular, how may I help you?”

After the words leave my lips there's a pause, giving me just enough time to feel awkward about using the word ‘spectacular' .

“Stella, Hi. It's Martin.”

It's been a while since we've spoken, and I can't help but feel a tingle of excitement at hearing his voice. When I don't say anything he continues,

“Nora's wedding is coming up soon, and I was wondering if I could ask a favor?”

Oh so now he needs me for something. Is this a test?

“What kind of favor?”, I ask.

“Well as wedding planner I value your opinion on what to wear, and as Best Man I need a tuxedo. Could you help me pick one out?”

Well I've already overseen the picking out of wedding dresses. And this would give me another chance to show Martin that I can be professional and take my job seriously. So why not?

“Ok Martin, are we picking something out of your closet or are we going shopping?”

I can hear the smile in his voice when he answers, “I want something fresh and new for Nora's wedding, so let's go shopping. Are you free this evening?”

When he's not mad at me for something his voice does carry a certain charm. I wish it didn't affect me so much.

“I'm free, where are we going?”

“I'll text you the address. Meet me there at 7?”

I can't help but smile, “It’s a date.”

I hear him laugh on the other end, “Don't be late.”

As I look out the window of my taxi I can't help but shake my head. Given that the address Martin gave me borders on the south end of Central Park, it couldn't have said more “fancy rich guy” if it tried. When the taxi stops outside of the Ritz-Carlton hotel, I see Martin standing talking to the doorman. When the doorman steps over to get my door, Martin waves him off and opens it for me.

“Wow, aren't we being a gentleman?” I tease as I climb out of the taxi.

“Well you're here to do me a favor, so it's only right.”

Martin knocks on the passenger window and the driver rolls it down to accept his credit card.

I stand on the sidewalk and wait. The Ritz-Carlton doorman tips his hat to me in greeting and I blush. As the taxi drives away Martin comes back over to me.

“So this is a hotel. I thought we were going shopping?” I ask, eyeing Martin warily.

Martin's usual stern facade shifts and he smiles, “Oh we are, the store isn't far from here. So I figured we could walk.”

I shrug, falling in step beside him as we join the flow of pedestrians. “Don't tell me you're taking me to shop on 5th Avenue.” I joke.

Martin glances at me all serious, “Well yes, I always shop on 5th Avenue.

Of course you do.

As we walk by the other hotels on the street the crowd on the sidewalk gets more dense, and it's tough not to bump into people. A group of people come at us from the other direction and I have to step closer to Martin to avoid being trampled. Without warning I feel him take my hand, he leans in close to whisper. “Don't worry, I've got you.”

I give his hand a grateful squeeze, “Thanks, remind me again why walking is better than taking a taxi?”

As he guides me around a woman pushing a stroller, he smiles. “I like walking with you Stella. Remember how I walked you home after Nora's bridal shower?”

“I remember wanting to learn more about the real Martin that hides behind the façade of CEO event planner guy.”

We navigate the maze of cross walks and find ourselves on 5th Avenue.

“Well consider this as an another insight into who I am. I love this city, I live this city. The excitement, the people, the living breathing organism that is the exchange of commerce and business. I feel so energized to be a part of it.”

As I look down at his expensive shoes and the designer clothes he's wearing it reminds me of the divide between our economic classes. We might live on the same island, but he's all high-rise Penthouse and I'm Hell's Kitchen. I don’t belong in his social scene at all, yet here I am planning his sister's wedding and holding his hand. It's terrifying and exciting at the same time, like I'm on a carousel ride and if I dare let go it will all disappear and be just a dream.

He holds the door open for me as we enter the men's wear store at Bergdorf Goodman and as we step inside he looks like he's right at home. I feel like an ugly duckling in my basic cotton dress and sandals. He leads the way to the escalator and we go up to the second floor formal wear department.

The mannequins are all sharply dressed in suits of various colors and designer brands. As the only feminine thing in the whole room it feels very intense, almost erotic to be surrounded by such powerful masculinity.

The way that Martin just casually walks by the expensive price tags on display is mindboggling. But then this is his world, and money is no object. As we approach the clerk behind the counter the man smiles at us and greets Martin like an old friend.

“Martin! Back so soon! And with a pretty girl on your arm. How can I help you two today?”

Martin smiles back, “Good evening, Eric. My sister's getting married next month and I need a tux.”

Eric eyes me appraisingly as if I'm Martin's date. He seems to approve, but I don't know for sure because he quickly averts his attention back to Martin.

“Nora, right? Well tell her congrats for me. So for this extra special occasion are we going for something equally as special? Perhaps a tail coat this time?”

Martin shrugs and then looks at me, “That's not quite what I had in mind as Best Man, but let's ask the wedding planner. What do you think Stella?”

I hold my hand up, needing to clarify something first, “Hang on, I'm still trying to get over the fact that the staff know you by name. Just how many suits have you bought here?”

Martin grins at Eric, “Well this will be the fifth. There was Prom, two award shows, and of course Sam and Ali's wedding. I like shopping here because they carry the styles and brands that I like. Plus they have my size and measurements on file which helps.”

Eric laughs and smacks Martin on the arm, “Besides Martin and I go way back because we used to work here together.”

“So you weren't always part of your Dad's event planning business?” I ask, trying to imagine Martin working behind the counter at a clothing store.

“I was in highschool and Eric was in college. We worked in the backroom more so than directly with customers. It was my first taste of the business world at the ground level.”

Eric smiles, “One of the best, most down-to-earth guys I’ve ever worked with.”

Wait, what? Bossy pants, rich guy Martin is actually a nice guy under all of that expensive cologne? I knew it.

“Stop it Eric, you’re going to ruin the hard ass millionaire persona I’ve been trying so hard to uphold,” Martin jokes.

The air between us gets a little more awkward as Martin looks at me and smiles. What game are you playing Mister? You like me, then hate me, then you look at me like that and my knees go weak. Stop teasing me.

Eric claps his hands to dispell the moment and bring me back to reality, “Ok then, enough reminiscing, let’s get you a tux.”

He leads us to the racks and starts pulling things. “Let’s try this, and…this, oh and this one.”

Eric’s confidence as he chooses designer looks just at a glance is so different to Lindsay’s timid nature at the bridal boutique. He knows his niche market so well and obviously excels at it. I wish I could get the two of them in the same room, and just maybe some of his confident optimism would rub off on her.

He hands Martin a bunch of hangers as he leads us to a changing room, “I’m sure you two will be just fine with these, I’ll check back on you later.”

I feel a sudden panic take over at the idea of being left alone with Martin in a changing room. “Wait, you’re not going to help advise him about fit and stuff like that?”

Eric smiles, “I think in this matter that Martin would value your opinion more than mine. I’ll give you some privacy.”

Did he just wink at Martin before he left?

I suddenly feel hot all over when Martin hands me the hangers and then starts to unbutton his shirt, This is so not in my job description. What is going on?

I feel myself blush and look away, “Um, Martin should I wait outside?”

As he unbuttons the cuffs on his sleeves he looks down briefly as he slips off his shoes. “Only if you really want to Stella, I’m not too shy to ask for your help if I need you.”

If he needs me? What if I want to help now?

My eyes are drawn to the open neck of his shirt and the little bit of chest he’s revealed. I hang up the suits I’m holding and step toward him. “Let me help you with that.”

Martin doesn’t argue as I gently lay my hands on his chest, smoothing the fabric under my palms and running my thumb up over the buttons. His hands hang at his sides as he watches mine work to undo the buttons. I can feel his warm breath on my neck, and I boldly let my thumb graze against his skin as I reach the bottom button. Biting my lip I tug the shirt up out of his waistband. As I undo the last button I look up and meet the dark intensity of his eyes with my own. Our lips are only inches apart and I see him gasp as I run my hands up his bare chest and slide the shirt off of his shoulders and then it drops to the floor.

“Stella,” he whispers, catching my hands in his. “That's enough, thanks for the help.”

I step back and let my eyes wander down his toned and muscled arms and chest, ending at his abs, trying not to focus on anything below the belt. He clears his throat and then I look back up at his eyes.

“Are you sure you don't need help with anything else?” I ask, bending down to pick up his shirt. It's still warm and smells like him.

He pushes his shoes off to the side, and undoes his belt. I can't help but watch his hands.

“Yes Stella, I think I can manage the rest from here. I'm quite capable of dressing and undressing myself.”

I feel warm all over as I back out of the changing room, “I..I understand. I'll be outside if you need me.”

I lean against the wall and try to catch my breath. My mind, nerves and sexual desire are buzzing in overdrive.

Holy hell what the heck was that? He had no reservations about taking his shirt off in front of me. What the fuck is this twisted game he's playing? Was he just testing me to see if the attraction is mutual? Because it definitely is.

My eyes are closed, when I hear the door open.

“Okay, what do you think?”

My head snaps round to the sound of his voice. Damn he looks good in black. The crisp white of his shirt pops against the caramel color of his skin, and the bowtie draws attention to his handsome face and brilliant smile.

“Wow, Martin. Just wow.” I can't hide my smile of admiration.

“I know right? Eric really knows what looks good on me.”

He certainly does.

“You bet I do!” Eric says, grinning from ear to ear with pride.

After a quick visual assessment Eric nods. “And it's a perfect fit.”

Martin catches me staring and makes a show of adjusting his shirt cuffs and smoothing the lapels of his jacket. I can feel myself blush when he lays a smoldering look on me. He knows he looks good and that I'm checking him out. He undoes the button on the jacket and casually stuffs his hands in the pockets of the trousers as if he already owns them.

“Great then. I'll get changed and then you can ring me up.”

Eric smirks at me when Martin disappears to go change, “You like him don't you? You know you're just his type. Please tell me that you two are a thing.”

I'm caught off guard by his observation, but I can't help but tell him the truth.

“Not yet, but I'm working on it.”

Eric laughs, “I knew it! The two of you have been setting off serious sparks ever since you walked in.”

Well whatever is going on it's seriously something volatile.

“You're his friend, any advice for me?” I ask nervously.

I can't believe I'm really asking someone how to pursue a relationship with Martin.

“Be patient, he knows what he's got going on, but under it all he has a good heart and a good head.”

“And a good face.”

He grins and points at me, “You, Stella. I like you. Got spunk for days.”

Martin comes back out, “What are you two grinning about?”

“Oh nothing. Stella and I were just talking about cute boys that's all.”

He laughs, “I bet your husband wouldn't like that.”

Eric laughs, “Nah he'd just be jealous about missing out on the details.”

I blush and look down at my shoes, praying for the floor to open me up and swallow me whole. “Um, can we go now?”

Eric winks and collects the tuxedo and accessories from Martin, “But of course Madame et Monsieur, right this way.”

Standing next to Martin at the counter I try not to peek at the price of everything as Eric rings them up. Martin hands over his black Visa card. “So I'm assuming the hemming of the trousers to the proper inseam is included. And that everything will be delivered to my address?”

Eric smiles and nods as he makes a note on the receipt. “Yes Mr. Mercado, and as always it's been a pleasure doing business with you.”

“Thanks Eric, we'll be back.”

We? What's this we all of a sudden?

“Nice to meet you Stella.” Eric says as we turn to go.

I smile and wave and then Martin leads me back out of the store. Out on the street I turn on him.

“Ok Martin, out with it. Why did you really invite me out to go shopping with you?”

Martin runs his hand over the side of his face, and looks down at his shoes with a sigh. “Honestly?”

I fold my arms across my chest, “I'd like the truth, yes.”

Martin looks up and the expression on his face is open and sincere. “The truth is…that..that I like you Stella. I was looking for an excuse to see you again.”

Well holy shit. I don't know what to say.

“Stella?” he says, as he catches me staring at him again. “Say something.”

I blink and then look down and reach for his hand. When I look back up at him again he's smiling. “I think I'd like that Mr. Mercado.”

He steps closer, “And what exactly would you like Stella?”

“For you to find more excuses to see me. Because I like spending time with you too.”

He brings his hand up to brush the hair back from my face, his thumb grazes my cheek and sends a thrilling sensation traveling down my neck. He leans in close and my eyes drop down to focus on his lips, now just a breath away from touching mine. I suck in a breath in anticipation and then he draws himself back.

With a sigh he steps back from me. “Can I call you sometime?”

I feel like all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs so I just nod.

“Yes, anytime.” I manage to whisper.

"Okay good, but for now let me call you a cab."

[sneakysockthief]

Lowkey I was kinda proud of this I like never actually contribute to the conversation cause most of the time I feel like my takes need nuance but with this one I feel like I was able to come to the realization that I'm the only one who's encountered all of the perspectives I have as an individual and the analysis is already done I just need to trust my gut and say whatever I feel and think with my whole chest regardless of how cringe or weird it may be cause that's just another aspect of me coming out that I haven't let myself get to know and get comfortable with but I know I will eventually and picturing that helps me step into that version of myself. In a way I guess this was a post about recognizing the manifestations of truths and good about yourself and the world while also recognizing the lies and evil and then simultaneously forgiving them all because you know it's time to move on to getting to know even more about yourself even though you feel excitement about getting to know it you feel fear and doubt alongside you. But you have a job to do and both versions of you know this, accept one another and become a version of you that can move forward. You move so far forward until you realize you're not going forward you're all over the place and you didn't know as much as you thought you did. You ask the question 'where do I go' pretending not to know the answer is 'wherever you want' because it's scary. You know you've already been everything you see and feel around you and you can go back to being that and part of you has the desire while another part doesn't and you end up existing as this incredibly unstable synthesis of these contradictory truths, realizing you've already taken your life in every way you've imagined before. You've succeeded in every version you've seen of yourself succeeding; all of this is shown to you by your material world because to perceive falling through time as anything other than the material is horrifying and this fear is manifested by all of our material perceptions as well as their opposite pleasures that feel completely unique to you as an individual and that's the highest value you can commit to life is to simultaneously and unapologetically indulge yourself in every pleasure you can imagine as well as every fear and then forgive and move past it. Our imaginations, senses of empathy, attachment, and desire are all at once real physical things to interact with, and also avenues and vehicles to explore past and future times we've been what we love and what we fear. It's terrifying.

Last year I became a hard worker, a dedicated husband, a voracious lover, a burnt out and bitter worker who was all too aware of everybody's place in the system, and finally a widower all in the span of 10 months. When I buried that relationship that saw me become a man and a father and my wife a woman and a mother I had an identity crisis that manifested in me becoming deeply suicidal and me surrounding myself with people I know next to nothing about while I tell myself that they are some of my closest friends I've had in my support system all my life. But the dreamer always wakes up and as they awoke and departed I found myself feeling more alone than I ever felt because I was feeling alone as I had always felt before I lost my wife, before I fell in love, before I learned what love was, before I learned what it felt like to be alive, before I placed myself in my own dream, before any of us did. We are all falling through time (I only say falling because that's the most visceral fear I've had my whole life. That and spiders anyways) telling ourselves we aren't by dreaming up a world that doesn't quite make sense and that can't make sense because everything has to be simultaneously true and false at the same and its very nature unsettles us because we all see ourselves in it and we don't quite know what we're looking at yet. We are both the dreamer and the dream at the same time and we're already awake. I'm only posting this here because this is the platform/medium I've been the most comfortable on throughout my life even though I know daring to call this hellsite an art medium would have me drawn and quartered immediately if I could run the world. But yeah anyways here's that thing about Ukraine I said that made me feel passionately enough to type something about forty-five minutes ago.

[frogsandfries]

"But he hasn't done anything wrong"

Alright, this post is probably going to be all over the place, but I'm just gonna go for it:

So a few months ago, when this friend I've been living with first insinuated that he could have a relationship with me or he could love me if he wasn't already in a relationship, whatever the specifics were, I asked something like, well then why don't you end it with her? He told me, because she hasn't done anything wrong. Which sounds like the biggest copout ever. He has me and I've liked his internet persona for ages, and most of the fighting we've ever done has centered around her, or spun out of some misunderstanding I would attribute to not wanting to have to communicate about her.

He acts like...... they're married or she knows something that keeps him tied to her. I don't understand why he will draw out a relationship when it's pretty well dead.

A few days ago, he said something to imply that the two times he can remember having sex with me, he was just going along with it. Which of course, brought back to mind his girlfriend relentlessly accusing me of being a rapist. Unless he said something to give her that idea--because if she thinks he's the type to be forced, coerced or taken advantage of, she doesn't know him nearly as well as she thinks. And she lived with him for almost a year.

Well, the other day, when I finally cracked and brought it up again, he said the two times that we've had sex here in his parents' home, his inhibitions were inhibited. He knows he doesn't want to cheat on her; he's not trying to hurt me by confusing me; and he's not interested in me reminding him that he's a cheater. But it's not bad sex, at least. And maybe I'm getting my hopes up a little, but perhaps it's sex he would enjoy having more often, if it weren't so guilt laden.

Random point: We'll actually probably be staying at his parents' house longer than we anticipated. His parents had a pretty big hiccup just Christmas Eve that's going to make things tricky for a while and their son, of course, wants to help them out. I'm not really sure how we're going to help since we still have our own big issues to sort out first. So even though we're really trying to be adults and keep our hands to ourselves, we are no closer to getting out of our close quarters.

I want so badly all the time for him to pull me close or kiss me or anything. I just want to feel acknowledged. I can imagine, more easily than I ever did with my ex, a whole future with this friend. His grandma suggests that we have things we aren't communicating. But I've told him. I told him a lot before we got here, when things were a little fuzzy for him; I've told him when I'm probably more intoxicated than I should be and I've told him when I'm half-asleep. I feel like I shouldn't press the matter anymore; especially because I really feel my feelings beginning to falter. He also has her until either he realizes that the relationship isn't growing or going anywhere, or she is done with him. And he's told me that he does like me in a way. But he wouldn't spell it out if he did because "his feelings don't matter". He treats his relationship with her like an obligation.

So the reason I bring up "he hasn't done anything wrong" is that one of his bandmates doesn't seem to be applying himself. It sounds to me that even though this guy is talented, he's not a good match for the group. I have a feeling that his time investment as well as his commitment to making strides with the group to grow as an artist are going to catch up with him as a member of that group. In other words, he misses more practices than the other band members, and the other band members, just as far as I've seen, are committed to studying and pushing themselves and each other.

And my friend says, as with his girlfriend, there's no reason to get rid of him, because he hasn't done anything wrong. But there's also no reason to keep someone in your life if you're basically white-lying to them all the time half out of pity or if the direction they want to go is totally and completely different from you. And I know that's rich coming from me, when I keep staying with someone who has hurt me repeatedly, regardless of whether we're just miscommunicating, or if it was malicious. It's also rich of me when I keep messaging a guy who wants to be friends and I keep it up to be nice because he probably needs friends, but he takes a lot from me emotionally that I simply don't have for him.

I know the band thing is none of my business; I just imagine the sooner they drop someone they don't seem to be entirely jiving with, the sooner they can build better cohesion; it may take some time to find the right replacement, but their losing time sticking to the wrong one. And the wrong fit may feel he's wasting his time and doesn't belong, and choose to leave anyway.

Anyway, it's frustrating because my friend always seems to say exactly what I want to hear and it feels disingenuous. I told him it seems a little manipulative and he was hurt by that. I rather doubt that's really his intention. My feelings are starting to waver, even in spite of stuff that seems to suggest he wants me to stick around. He's a good objective moderator of my health; he checks in which reminds me to be mindful of my emotional energy and physical wellness. When I suggested I need better communication, he made a good go of it. He tweaked his communications when I remarked that he was setting into mansplaining territory. As far as I've noticed, he's also started to wear his headphones while I sleep, cutting out one distraction.