#i had caffiene late in the day so i made this instead of sleeping. i have to get up early tomorrow. help

[junseoing]

Han Gyujin as capybaras (bcs both make me happy)

moodboard inspired by @juiceofmoons​ hehe

Bonus gif :D

[r0-boat]

Thank you for the nice compliments on my last one. I hope this one with Adaman is just as enjoyable as the last one. Also I wanted to say thank you for such a wonderful blog! -Pokeboyanon.

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That work needed finishing. It was the only reason he got himself to get out of the arceus forsaken bed he was comfortable in. He felt terrible, like he couldn't keep anything in his stomach, everything was too hot, too dizzy. Too.....Sickly. By Arceus was he sick!?...He shook that off rather quickly. Didn't matter. Work was needed. Work was the thing driving the Wydeer today and if he crashed off the road of sanity so be it. He might've already been losing it anyways with how much he was coughing and how sore his throat felt. He might as well been one of the walking dead as his body spun between heavy and lightheaded with how he looked. Wheezes and coughs were what came out of him and the only language he spoke right now was lack of no sleep and 'I need coffee'-nese, and he didn't even LIKE that new drink that seemed to become popular lately. He winced as his sore throat throbbed and suppressed the urge to cough as it would only hurt more. Darnit he just had to get to the dam kitchen area. He KNEW he should've stayed in bed that day...but he was so close to being done. He knew if he just got enough caffiene he'd be able to make one more day and finish. He tensed in pain from his chest as he coughed a little, face scrunched up. He LOATHED being sick Hated anyone around him being sick....Speaking of which where the heck was everyone? It was unusually quiet for their camp sight \ in the middle of the day. He sniffled again, slumped footsteps echoing out the entire empty place as his runny nose got the the better of him.

Wow...He really did have a cold didn't he?

"ACHOO- ow." The body of the man shook as the sounds of a sneeze echoed through the entire place and if it weren't for his hand quickly latching onto a doorway he was passing, he would've suffered more than just stumbling and landing into the wall...he let out a whimper from his sore throat and head that the sneeze made throb. He scowled. Whatever. If everyone was out doing something he couldn't care less. Right now he had more important things to attend to, like getting his butt awake and figuring out if he wanted to dunk his head in cold water or just see how that Jubilife coffee worked out for him. Another sneeze wracked his body resulted in more scratchy voiced whimpers and mumbles as he walked his way somehow back into his tent with his blurry vision and spinning head. The cold floor sent a shiver down his swaying form- "ACHOO!!" He stumbled and threw his hands out thankfully grabbing onto a shelf, gradually pulling himself along towards the upper cabinets. He reached up a hand and felt around for any spare cups of theirs lying around. Sniffling as he did light headed. Eventually his hand wrapped around a simple white mug and he was able to easier reach it with his slumped body against the counter. ".......ACHOO!!" He shook his head and sniffled. Man he hated having a cold-

"Adaman-"

A glass shattering rang from the sink as porcelain mug pieces scattered about on the floor. Feet stumbled and at long last he was too slow to reach for the counter instead tumbling to the floor with a thud and sore heap as he laid there...Head spinning. Whimpering. Body sore...and only a cough escaped the sore throat causing more whimpers and sniffles. Footsteps approached but he could only weakly shake. Great Sinnoh! He felt like almost crying-

"AH!! DONT TOUCH DONT TOUCH!! ACHOO!!" He rasped out in a croaky voice that sounded like he was smoking for fifty years as a white flash of pain passed over when two hands grabbed his side out of nowhere all of a sudden, his head slumping as the headache throbbed again from another sneeze.

"What's wrong with you!? Are you ok!?," a voice sounded above him and he winced from the loud volume. "ANSWER ME YOU " Her answer? Another loud sneeze making him whimper and curl in on himself on himself even more and she leaned back a bit before groaning. "Of all the things you can get yourself into you get yourself sick?!"

Hey. That voice sounded familiar. He turned his head slightly up and his vision was too blurry to make out who it was but he had a good idea of who it was. ".....Y-Y/n?"

"Yeah, it's me." She groaned shaking her head. "the one time I stay behind and I find you sick."

"Is not my f-f-fa- AHCOO!" She quickly leaned away as he coughed and sniffled again from the sneeze. "F-Fault..*sniff*...W-Where is everyone?"

She made a cringe face and stared down at his weak form. "They left already. Y'know for the harvest? Did you forget?"

"M-Must've s-slipped my mind. I-...I-I-AHCHOO!!" He whimpered again and curled in on himself until he was in a pained ball. ".....I hurt...."

Her whole demeanor immediately softened as she watched him wriggled on the ground clutching his stomach as he did sniffling. Her hands coming to hover over his body but not touching him due to his past reaction. "Are you ok?!..Can you get up?"

"ACHOO!!....*sniff*" He gave a small hopeful nod to her as the swimming/light headed/spinning feeling intensified and forced him to close his eyes as tears brought him up to the for front. He couldn't act like a wimp in front of her. So whimpers aside he began to push himself up, stumbling and leaning more and more against the counter as his arms shook fumbling around for purchase against the cold floor. A worried and annoyed feeling coming over himself as Jirou didn't move from her spot, as if afraid he'd fall over- "ACHOO!!" His chest let a large pang of pain as he started coughing up again- "AH-" His legs gave out as he doubled over, in a bent over position, one hand gripping the shelf and the other covering his mouth as the coughs kept coming and his body lit ablaze with hellfire! He couldn't stop! It was too much! Dear Almighty Sinnoh make it stop! Black clouded in-

"ADAMAN!"

......

...........

......................Well THAT could've gone better.

In panic, she did the only she could've done at that moment. Go get help! Luckily help hadn't been too far away and was quick to get Adaman's unconscious form to the clan healer quickly and find out what was really wrong with him. He was sick and exhausted with a fever and runny nose. Well it was a relief to her at least, and not too long after the man was carried back into his tent and half woke up enough to blow his nose and take whatever medicine was given to him before clonking out again. While relieved, she was still worried so decided to stick around. Not like she had any plans for the holidays anyways. Which turned into her just reading and checking on him every few minutes...which became every one minute for the past hour still finding him fast asleep under the blankets where they left him. ......He looked cold. She'll go get a blanket after a lil bit....Which in reality was five minutes. Hesitant steps came down the hallway back down towards the bedroom. A blanket resting under one arm. The footsteps soon stopped in front of one door on the right and the boy paused. It took a moment before he was able to reach a hand up to knock on the door.

"Adaman?", a voice forced out almost a whisper. No one answered so she knocked again a bit louder. Just to see if he had woken up while she was away ...Still nothing. So she gently grabbed ahold of the door knob and turned. "Adaman? I-I brought an extra blanket-....Oh."

The dark room made it hard to see but she could make out the sleeping figure over in the corner. His chest rose and fell slowly in his sleep and a smile was present on his sleeping face. She hesitated for a moment, but decided it was best to keep her silent promise of getting him the extra blanket. So slowly stepping in, she gently closed the door behind her with a soft click- She froze when he made a groaning noise but he didn't wake up, only buried his head halfway under the blanket. She sighed in relief before silently walking up to the bed, taking the blanket in both hands she flung it out. Then over the bed in the air. It gently floated down until it draped over his sleeping form. She stared down at the sleeping form of her friend for a moment, before gently smoothing the wrinkles out from the covers-

".....Y/n?"

She froze. .....Slowly her eyes shifted up towards the bedframe. A pair of eyes blinked back up sleepily at her, wild blue and light tan bed head around his face.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh. I..Uh-" She quickly pulled himself away from the bed embarrassed and cleared her throat. Finger twirling around one of her locks of hair. "I-I-I was just delivering t-the blanket cuz you're sick and I t-thought i-it might help. *ahem* ....I-Im sorry if I woke you."

he blinked at her for a moment, before shifting his eyes down to his body. Indeed a new blanket was over his. He then looked back to her with a smile that made her heart skip a beat.

"It's ok. I don't mind. S-Sorry I fell b-b-back there...Must've been e-embarrassing."

"I- uh-.....N-NO! Of course not. You w-were just sick. It happens." Sinnoh she could feel her cheeks growing more pink by the second. His patient eyes and smile always seemed to make her forgive the doofus faster. Luckily he new exactly what to do- "W-Well I-I-Ill let you get back to sleep-" She froze when something grabbed her hand. She soon found out what when Adaman, now slightly sitting up in bed pulled her back a little more.

"Um- Hey. W-Would you mind if we-..." His eyes shifted to the side. Wait. Did he sound nervous? "Cu-.. Cuddle? Y-Y'know. J-Just as friends! I-Im s-still pretty cold from the fever and I thought- ..."

"Uuuuhh-" Her eyes went back to them still holding hands.

" I-I mean. I-Its ok if y-you don't want to. " he let go of his hand-

"What?! NO NO!" she froze when she regrabbed her hand and looked back into his eyes. He seemed to freeze for a moment himself. "I-....I mean I d-don't mind it. I just...I'm not sure if you would want to."

...he smiled. "Well I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't ok."

"Oh. W-Well...Who am I t-t-to deny a request from you...b-but you better not get me sick?"

He chuckled. "I make n-no promises."

he smiled again, before shifting over to make room for another, patting the spot next to him. She hesitated for a moment but gulped down what worries she had left and slowly lifted the blankets, before climbing in. He sat there for a moment un sure, but his face lit up like a million stars when he felt her reassuringly huddle up against his side. He swallowed, hard, before allowing himself to lay back and lay a shaking arm around her. In response she shifted to lay into him more and sighed in comfort.

".....ACHOO!!"

"DANGIT ADAMAN!!"

Sick fics are so cute I swear.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Jason was someone who knew the value and the importance of a good night sleep. And life on the Argo ll showed him that the others were lacking in that department.

And without quite fully realising it, he studied them and found solutions that maybe they hadn't even realised.

(Or, Jason is distressed team mum and wants to help everyone get some sleep)

He'd find Percy drifting off while sat on the sofa and would inquire that the other slept. Percy would give him a fond and amused grin "yeah, I will." But Jason can see the bags under his eyes and the way he's slower to react (not by much of course, it was Percy after all impulse was kinda his thing) and resists the urge to shake his head.

Instead Jason goes over to the window, and feels his power fill the air. A cool gust of wind and the trickling of rain start to appear, followed by the cool lapping waves of the sea (because of the wind) and Percy listens to them absentmindedly but only takes a few minutes for him to nod off on the sofa, lulled by the sounds around him. Jason had heard him fondly talk of Montauk, of a rainy cabin by the sea and Jason knew at once what to do.

A light swirl of wind picks up the blankets from his room and tuck him in, a pillow pet wedged in his arms.

Jason finds Leo tinkering in the engine room with Annabeth by his side. They've thrown themselves into another invention and happily explain it to him. And while most of its intricacies go over his head, he praises them regardless (and tries not to frown at how surprised they are, especially Leo to receive genuine praise. That he files away for later.)

His points of going to sleep fall on death ears of course, but he's caught them before they've started to consume any caffiene. Jason takes a deep breathe and mumbles some words in a language he's never truly used before. But Leo does, freezing in place and staring at Jason in open mouth surprise.

It's a song Reyna sings, has sung to Jason more times than he can count. On cloudless night skies full of stars, when all they have is each other to hold on to. Jason doesn't completely known the language but Reyna uses it when there alone, he wants to know because he knows just how important it is to her.

Tears well up in Leo's eyes, his body sags and his eyes flutter sleepily like Jason had hoped. It reminds Leo of his Madre, and warmth wells up in his heart. To seal the deal, Jason hands over a blanket with all the importance of a treaty and mimes for Leo to put it around him.

Leo raises an eyebrow, still reeling from the song and does so. He gasps in surprise, for this is a weighted blanket that seems to by magic dull the anxiety that wells up in his friend. (Jason is certain that weighted blankets are just magic). He gives Jason a grin but for once it reaches his eyes, eyes that shine witb gratitude "okay okay, I'm going to sleep Jase if you're gonna go through all this trouble."

Annabeth looks like she's about to protest for all of 3 seconds before shaking her head and bade Leo goodnight. She gives Jason a calculating look "I'm assuming you're doing this with everyone." Jason nods, open and honest because he has nothing to hide and knows how much that means to her. Annabeth stares at him for a few seconds, before nodding, accepting it.

"We have been... Running ourselves ragged I suppose...." To Jason that's an understatement, she can read them all but he can read her 2. He can see just how much she's struggling to keep herself together. Otherwise she'd probably have put up more of a fight to his plans. "So, care to tell me what you thought of for me?"

Jason smiles, taking out a book and pressing it into he'd hands, she raises an eyebrow and makes what's halfway between a snort and a chuckle. "You want me... To read till I sleep?" She asks, Jason nods absolutely serious. Annabeth isn't sure how to react that but finds no harm in it and does so. She's about 5 pages in when her head falls onto the pillow beneath her and softly snores.

Annabeth had been that exhausted that few things wouldn't have made her fall asleep. That is if she were anyone else, but she was Annabeth. She was someone who's guard was raised at all times, so he made his intentions clear and handed her a book to help her sleep. It wasn't that the book was magic or anything it was even what it contained though that was important.

It was on keystone arch way design, an architectural style that had been pioneered by Romans. This particular book was one of Jason's favourites, and by giving her a book important to him, about something he cared about he was able to gain her trust. Jason had relaxed Annabeth enough that her guard dropped momentarily so that her tired body was able to win out.

Jason had no doubt she would read the book the next day and bookmarked it for her, using the wind to gently send her to her room.

He found Frank polishing his bow and talking to Hazel. Jason strode over to them and told them that it was late and they should rest. That they had a big day ahead of them and he wouldn't want them to get hurt through their exhaustion.

And while the words were casual enough, they bore with them a certain edge. Not harshness or even cruelty but a certain form of confidence that spoke of authority. Now Jason didn't have authority, not here but he used to. Frank and Hazel has known him for a while personally but not as long as he'd been their Praetor and Jason knew instantly that they'd recognise his tone.

But he didn't leave it there, otherwise he'd have felt cruel and cold, and besides it wasn't the whole plan. Jason smiled warmly, and began to tell a story. Like so many he'd shared at a campfire after long days at Camp Jupiter. Hazel curled up beside Frank who stifled a yawn, the almost Prateor voice had got their attention yes.

But the story pulled them in, just like it always had. It was one they'd heard a thousand times of a mission a former Prateor had been on but Jason weaved words like magic and before he was finished they were out like lights.

He smiled fondly, just like than and wrapped a blanket around them and left once they were comfortable.

Piper was sat by one of the windows, staring into her blade in deep thought. Jason clears his throat to make his presence known and she jumps slightly, waving at him once she regains her composure. "Oh, hi Jason. What's up?" She tries and fails to hide her true feelings. Piper's afraid, and Jason knows it. He asks her if she can fall asleep and she shakes her head silently. Jason nods, expecting as much and sits beside her.

Instantly she rests her head on his shoulder, it takes a few seconds but she voices her worries. Her anxiety and fear about their mission, and he holds her close. Jason let's get it all out, even prompting her at times before consoling and comforting her. He addresses every one of her fears with a realistic but kind response, it reminds him of new campers still learning the ropes and asking a billion questions all at once.

He comforted them, answered their questions and made sure they knew he was always their to support them. Jason comforts Piper the same way, bringing up that she has improved, how far they've gotten and holding her close.

And it helps her relax, much like it did to them in the past and once she does she starts to yawn. He gives her a pointed look and she laughs tiredly "fine I'll get some rest, only if you do as well." Jason nods, watching her go back he'd to her room.

Of course he will, he fully intends to keep that promise like all the rest. The rain is more natural now, perhaps he'd initially caused it but oh well. Jason thinks of the seven, or rather the six and how they've worked their way into his heart. He thinks of Reyna and knows she'd have been amused of his efforts as she always is.

And now Jason finds himself able to sleep, now that he knows everyone else is well and truly resting. And that's what he feels as he drifts off to sleep curled up in a nest of blankets like the wolf he is.

When Nico joins them, and everyone notices him having trouble sleeping there is little surprise among the six when Jason quietly approaches him.

It's a lot less surprising when they see Nico drinking hot chocolate at night and discussing Mythomagic strategies with Jason, as his eyes begin to flutter, that remind him of so much of late night conversations with Reyna on days that have been so hard on them both.

Because every now and again Nico will drop in something serious in their friendly banter and Jason will not belittle, nor ignore nor make light of it or coddle him but listen and ensure he feels listened to. Because that he finds is what Nico needs... And if he manages to hug him at some point and get him to sleep that's a definite plus.

(Really wanted to hammer it home that Jason makes others feel comfortable by addressing who they are as people and uses himself to help.

With Percy he uses his powers to remind him of his safe place when he's in distress.

With Annabeth he uses his passion and being a literal open book because he knows she values and needs trust and safety.

With Leo and Nico it was his friendship with Reyna, of how they've both helped each other when there hurting and applied what he's learnt here.

With Frank and Hazel and Piper it was his role as Prateor, the knowledge of how to help tjise who are openly hurting and want that support and telling stories because that's what helped campers like Frank and Hazel are to feel better.

Because helping others is such a core part of who Jason is)

[danny-chase]

if you want, maybe you could do "severed artery" with Dick and have Roy (or one of the other Titans) take care of him? love your writing and I hope you're having a nice day!

AHH thank you so much! I hope you enjoy!

Severed Artery - read on AO3

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Titans (Comics), Nightwing (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Roy Harper & Dick Grayson Characters: Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Garth (DCU), Donna Troy (minor) Additional Tags: Can be read as pre-slash, POV Roy Harper, POV Dick Grayson, vomitting, Blood, Guns, Hospitals, Canon-Typical Violence, dick is a little shit, Roy is a Little Shit, Homophobia, Roy Harper Needs a Hug, Roy Harper gets/gives a hug, Dick Grayson Whump, Roy Harper emotional whump, Protective Roy Harper, Hurt Dick Grayson, Garth is the best, Titans as family, Confused Dick Grayson, Medical Inaccuracies Series: Part 6 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick and Roy are little shits to each other, until the night takes a turn for the worse.

Full story under cut

“Aight, Donna, you ready to go?” Roy chirped, taking a second to look himself over in the mirror, running his fingers through his (surprisingly) soft hair (he’d be stealing Dick’s shampoo more often) – getting that perfect messy, but stylish look. He fired off finger guns at his reflection – he was killing it, somehow listening to Gar of people had worked out – he gave shockingly good fashion advice.

Feeling optimistic, he sauntered into the hall, only to be met with Donna’s confused expression.

“Roy, I’m going out with the girls tonight, I told you like four times.” She leaned against the wall, gesturing to Jesse and Toni, car keys dangling from her hand. Jesse stared at him, an eyebrow cocked judgmentally, as Toni smiled, offering a little wave. He waved back, watching Jesse’s expression morph into disapproval.

“Hey, I didn’t even do anything!” He complained, glaring at Jesse. She rolled her eyes, not deigning to verbally respond. Ice queen.

Reaching out, Donna patted his shoulder, waiting until he met her eyes. “I’m sorry, hun, but we’ve got tickets to a concert, could we go out next weekend?” She fluttered her eyelids slightly, sending chills up his spine. “Why don’t you take one of the boys with you?”

“Terrible company, but babe, have fun, I’ll figure something out.” He cupped her chin in his hand, leaning forward to peck a kiss to the top of her head, ignoring the fact she squatted down to make the moment work.

“Mm, thanks.” With that, the girls were off for the night, leaving him stranded in a deserted hallway.

Well. He could do what Donna suggested and take out one of the guys – he had the reservation, and Lian was already situated with the sitter. But which guy was the question… Wally was out with the league, Garth was visiting home, Vic was with Gar, and Grant had a date. Which left Dick – no - Dick was busy working – actually yes – he likely needed a break.

Actually – was he even here?

He started towards the central control room, poking a head in Dick’s room on the way and had to do a double take.

“You’re actually in <em>your room</em>?” Dick threw a pencil at him without looking up from his desk, child’s play to dodge – Dick speak for hmm, maybe something like ‘asshole’, but he took it as an invitation to enter. But if Dick was going to call him an asshole, he had expectations to live up to.

He took a standing leap, twisting and flopping across Dick’s immaculately made bed, sending blankets and pillows careening off the side. Dick ignored him, scribbling down some notes on a pad of paper. Roy waited for a few minutes, listening to the scratch of pen on paper. Quick and noisy – Dick was likely stressed – he was pushing down harder than normal; he gave it an eighty/twenty chance something was up.

Ripping paper proved him right, as Dick frustratedly crumpled up the page of notes, throwing them behind him, hitting the recycling bin with ease. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes.

“Showoff.” Dick startled, jumping out of his chair, Roy’s own reflexes were the only thing that saved him from taking a pen between the eyes.

“What the fuck, Richard?!” He yelled, yanking the little missile out of the air. A faint flush tinted the top of Dick’s ears.

“I forgot you were there.” The admission was almost too quiet to hear, but combined with the minute sign of embarrassment, it rang of truth. Roy could milk this, oh he totally could.

“What was that, why did you almost kill me?” If he played his cards right, he wouldn’t be dining alone tonight.

“I didn’t think you were…” Dick trailed off, glaring at him. “You heard what I said.” He retorted, catching on. Sucks to suck, Dickie – he was obviously tired if that spooked him – he was likely running on caffeine.

“Oh, you misunderstand.” Scooching off the edge of the bed, he hopped lightly onto the balls of his feet. “Why’d the batboy forget I was there, hmm?” He pulled a half-eaten energy bar off the desk, inspecting the wrapper. Dick casually rocked back in his chair.

“See, completely decaf, I told you I’d-” Roy yanked open a drawer, Dick darting to stop him. “This is my desk!” He slammed the drawer shut a moment too late – Roy had good eyes after all.

“Hmm, so how do you explain the-”

“Get out, I have stuff to do – aren’t you supposed to be on a date with-”

“-CAFFIENE PILLS IN YOUR DRAWER!” He shouted through Dick’s response, effectively shutting him up. There’d been an intervention years ago after too many days spent on one hour or less of sleep. “You know the deal.” Dick groaned as he ruffled his hair.

“I have to-”

“Eat, shower, and sleep. And I have reservations. For two. You’re coming with me.” Ah yes, a romantic dinner date with Dick Grayson. People would kill for this. Dick crossed his arms. Roy picked up his chair, staggering towards the door. Dick was going whether he liked it or not, a real meal (not protein shakes or energy bars) would do him good.

“No one’s even done this to me in like, a year.” He noted, gracefully leaping out of the seat. “Asshole.” Grumbling he lightly punching him in the arm before heading into his walk-in closet, stripping off his shirt as he went. Automatically, Roy scanned for any new injuries, his eyes lingering over a few of the old.

“Liar, Wally caught you two months ago. Besides, the restaurant is nice, Donna likes it and you two are basically the same person, so you’ll love it.” Dick scoffed, stepping out of view.

“Is that all I am to you? Your replacement for Donna?” He sounded mildly offended.

“Nah, you’re too ugly to replace her.” Dick hmphed. “And your personality sucks.” Roy added.

“Why the hell am I going with you?”

“It’s not like your night could get any worse.” Dinner was better than casework after all.

Dick’s head poked out the doorway, looking completely unamused. “Asshole.” He chirped a second time, ducking back away.

Roy sat across from him, speaking between mouthfuls of pasta, smacking his lips together. “So anyways this kid, Johnny is like, sitting next to Lian in class, and he keeps taking her crayons and won’t give them back.” Dick thought for a moment, watching Roy drum his fingers rhythmically on the table. “And the teacher is being ridiculous, she just believes Johnny over Lian. My Lian! Can you believe it?” He slammed his fork down, articulating the point.

<em>And you’re sure Lian gave you the whole story?</em> Was what Dick wondered, but he’d prefer not to die for questioning Lian’s integrity tonight. “Why don’t you mark her crayons with a sharpie and let the teacher know?” Roy’s fingers stopped.

“Huh, hadn’t thought of that.” He leaned back in his seat, distantly looking out the window. People trickled down the street, passing by the little café, kicking up crimson leaves from half empty trees. Streetlights flickered on; fairy lights crisscrossing the avenue, as the sun lazily sunk in the sky. It was a beautiful night – Roy was right, he did love it, the food was good – catching up with Roy was refreshing – and the location was stunning; as always, Roy always picked the perfect places for dates. Dick was past the point of being annoyed at the situation but was still determined to give Roy a hard time.

“Well, maybe if you thought about that instead of harassing me.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his hand, dramatically looking out the window – Babs was going to kill him for being late with his case reports. Again. Roy smirked as he rocked forward, reaching across the table to lay a hand on his forearm. He at least had the decency to look apologetic.

“Look, you know the deal.” Brushing his thumb against his skin placatingly, he waited until Dick met his eyes. “You’re working full time, and have your nightly duties, and you’re with us.” His voice dropped, his nostrils flaring in irritation. “It’s not like you’ll leave Bruce alone any time soon either. Dick.” His eyes crinkled around the edges – concern. “You’ve got to start taking care of yourself.” Dick rolled his eyes; he was doing fine.

“You’re working with Ollie, you have a daughter, and you’re working with us, look I had one breakdown-”

“More than one-”

“-Only one that wasn’t the result of external influences.” Fuck Brother Blood for the other ones. “We made the caffeine deal after,” he grimaced reflexively “I broke up with Kory but, Roy.” He clasped Roy’s hand with his other hand reassuringly. “I promise I’m doing better now.” Tilting his head to the side, he cracked his neck. “Plus, you only brought me along because Donna was busy, that’s not what the deal was for.”

“Okay, maybe that was shitty of me, but it’s nice seeing you without the tights.” Roy flashed a winning smile. “Not that I don’t like seeing you in them, the new stuff looks great.”

“Oh, so I don’t look great now?” He teased. He’d picked out his brightest shirt for the occasion – a polo patterned after bowling alley carpet paired with the tightest red jeans he could find, and of course, a pair of heels borrowed from Donna. A single giant hoop earring dangled off his left ear. If he was going out with Roy, he wanted people taking pictures. Payback. This would be in the news tomorrow.

“Babe,” Roy lifted up his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You look stunning.” He grinned goofily, seemingly happy to play along. Welp. If that’s how they were going to play it. He booped Roy’s nose, watching his pupils dilate. Dick recoiled in surprise – Roy wasn’t -

“Wait, you’re not actually-”

A scream cut him off, whirling around in his seat he saw a large man storming into the café brandishing a gun, his face red beet red and angry. He turned back, squeezing Roy’s hand, nodding towards the silverware.

“No-no one else move!” The guests around them stayed frozen in place. Three older ladies on their right, a family of four on their left (he guessed it was the young girl who screamed), and a couple across from them. The staff ducked behind the counter as people outside the restaurant scrambled away.

Dick raised his hands slowly. “I said no one move!” The gun pointed directly at him. Perfect.

“Okay, I won’t move.” He said steadily, watching sweat bead on the man’s head – he was nervous, his hands twitched uneasily on the gun – possibly his first time, and he kept muttering to himself. He watched Roy’s hand carefully creep towards silverware in his peripheral. “Do you want money? My father is rich.” Watching the man jitter about, he slowly stood up. Roy’s hand closed around the fork.

“Okay? You-you can get me money?” The man mused to himself, shifting his weight back and forth. He started lowering his gun, taking a step forward, he reached out his other hand. Dick took a few steps to the right, away from his chair, shifting attention away from Roy. “Okay the-”

*BANG* The world sped up around him, he rushed forward as the man fell-

*BANG* The man hadn’t even hit the ground – he was already dead – already-

“DICK-”

*BANG* Blood and brain matter poured out of the man’s head, someone was screaming, it didn’t need to-

*BANG*

“STOP!” Someone slammed into his side, and he hurtled to the ground. “HOLD YOUR FIRE!”

Roy’s face hovered above him. “Dick! You’re going to be fine.” His hands clamped napkins to his left shoulder, one on his front the other on his back – and shit – that was a lot of blood. “Hey, look at me.” Pain radiated out for the spot as Roy doubled the weight on the wound, blood seeping out past his fingers, waves pulsating in time to his heartbeat.

Cops burst in through the door, rushing to swarm the dead body. One glanced their way. “Oh shit, you hit the fa-”

“Fucking call an ambulance you dipshits!” Roy’s voice sounded farther away. “Slow your heart, fuck, do your Jedi weirdo bat tricks.” He hissed. Too late, sometimes, things happen too fast. “They hit an artery.” The blood wasn’t stopping, the napkin was soaked through, Dick felt himself slipping into shock. “Dick, stay awake!”

“Lo-ve y-ou.” He stumbled over the words as the world exploded – a million things happening at once – his thoughts scattering as black tinged his vision, overcoming everything.

Roy scrubbed his hands, pausing over the sink, watching the pink water rush down the drain, gurgling as it went. He rubbed a hand further, tackling the blood crusted over his elbow. He made a mistake of catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror –Dick’s blood was everywhere, coating his shirt, arms, pants, even some on his face. His stomach flipped, clenching tightly as he started to gag - fuck.

Throwing himself over the toilet, dinner rising back up in his throat, he threw up the seat. Shaking, he held himself over the porcelain toilet, fingertips staining it red, as he heaved. Soap bubbles dripped from his hands over the edge of the bowl, spattering on the ground.

Each drop spurred a recollection of the night’s events.

*Plop* The man was dead before he hit the grown, brain matter spattering the wall.

*Plop* A bullet whistled through the air, missing Dick by millimeters, lodging six inches next to the little girl’s head. He ran, screaming <em>“Dick!”</em>

*Plop* Blood sprayed out, a bullet ripping through Dick’s shoulder, as he kept moving towards the man.

*Plop* <em>“Stop!”</em> Tackling Dick out of the way, he screamed for them to stop, ripping napkins off a table and desperately trying to stop Dick’s life from slipping through his fingers.

He fell to his knees, a pit growing in his stomach spreading to his chest, rooting him to the spot. He curled his knees to his chest. Fuck. Dick had been shot before. But this? It was different. They weren’t in costume, they hadn’t been ready – the man hadn’t even shot anyone, only the bastard cops had.

<em>“Love you.”</em>

What kind of final words were those! He sat on the tile floor, banging his head into the side of the wall. Dick couldn’t die. Not because he forced him on some dumb dinner date! It wasn’t fucking fair!

His vision blurred, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears, unless he wanted blood in his eyes. Just – fuck. “FUCK!” His shout reverberated around the room. This was all his fault – he should have stayed home with Lian, guilt pooled in the bottom of his stomach. Why couldn’t he just leave well enough alone? Why’d he always have to have the last word? What was wrong with him!? Normal people didn’t antagonize each other like that!

The door creaked open. “Roy?” Garth called, the door squealing as it slowly opened. “Donna’s here too, are you ohhhhhhhhh-kay?” His jaw dropped, though he quickly recovered. Roy looked away, in a failed attempt to hide the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Garth stared at his hands. “That’s a lot of blood.” He muttered, his eyes darting around the room. “I mean, I brought you clean clothes.” He placed pair of sweats and a ratty t-shirt he’d stolen from Dick years ago on the counter. Roy’s eyes lingered on the shirt, no doubt the choice had been intentional.

The sound of rushing water cut through the silence, seeming to grow louder with each passing moment. Garth leaned back against the counter, hopping up next to the sink. “He’ll be fine.”

“Yep.” Dick was always fine. Always fine until he wasn’t.

“It’s not your fault.” Wrong.

“Debatable.” Garth frowned at the response but held his tongue. Instead, he let his head fall back against the mirror, staring up at the ceiling.

Softly, barely above a whisper, he continued. “I left you all alone for one day and this is how it ends up.” Roy bit his lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Guilt bubbled in the bottom of his stomach, and annoyance overcame him; they’d had these conversations before.

“Are you kidding me? I know what you want me to say. It’s not your fault – of course not. But then you’ll say ah but it’s not my fault either.” Angrily throwing his arms in the air, he continued, his voice growing louder. “And no – Garth – actually it is my fault!” He could feel the blood rushing to his face. “I’m the one who made him go to the restaurant. I’m the one was too late getting him out of the line of fire!” His voice resounded around the cramped room. He banged his head against the wall again. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do and thanks. But no thanks.”

Nonchalantly shrugging, Garth gestured to the water. “Wallowing here won’t make you feel less guilty. Apologizing when he wakes up will help, and I’m sure you’d prefer to be clean when the time comes.”

“Garth? Could you just…” He trailed off; anger quickly overcome by a wave of guilt. Shut up? Leave? Stop? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure he didn’t deserve whatever pity Garth was feeling. A wet paper towel smacked him in the face.

“Kick you in the rear so you’ll get off your sorry ass and clean yourself up?” Hopping off the counter, Garth strode over, lifting Roy by the elbow. “That’s not my style. But I’ll help you get cleaned up.” He let himself be dragged towards the running water, facing himself in the mirror once more, though this time he focused on Garth.

Sometimes Dick could swear he was actually a time traveler. Or maybe had latent teleportation abilities. Realistically, he’d probably just blacked out from blood loss or a concussion, but eh, that option wasn’t as fun. Blinking, he found himself in a familiar setting; a hospital room in a private wing, at – a clock ticked to his left, looking up – it was 4:19am.

He waited a minute, watching the clock turn to 4:20 - nice.

What was he doing again? How long was he out?

He struggled for a moment before remembering that he went out with Roy at 6pm last night, so he was out for… god math was hard. Six to twelve is six hours plus four, uh, ten hours and twenty minutes. Right. As long as it was the same day, he was set.

“Shit.” He promptly realized he couldn’t move his left arm. A sling. UGH. “Son of a-” he cut himself off, realizing he wasn’t alone in the room, Donna was gently snoring in a nearby chair, a little throw blanket covering her. The patterns had fish people… there was a word for that… mer-somethings-maids, mermaids. Mermaids – Garth – Garth was here, that was his blanket.

Dick scanned the room, checking for signs of life. Someone’s bag was on the floor, but he didn’t feel like expending the brain power to figure out who’s. Alright. He steeled himself. Now was the perfect time for escape.

The room spun as he sat up, turning around and round again before his eyes. Hah. Count Vertigo was way worse than this. Yep, head empty, room spinning, this was fine. Swinging his legs over the bed, an alarm blared next to his head.

“Fuck!” He jumped out of his skin, springing to his feet, in a defensive position. Well. He thought he did. The room was tilting on its side, the high-pitched noise shattering his thoughts. Instinctively, he tried to run.

“Woah there, shorty.” He found himself held by strong arms, the world turning once more. The familiar scent of Roy’s aftershave overpowered his senses. Distantly he was aware of the alarm turning off, his legs hitting the back of the bed. Roy’s face swam into view as he was guided back onto the bed, now propped up by soft pillows. So much for escape…

He closed his eyes, waiting for the rush of dizziness to pass. “Roy?” Warm arms wrapped around his torso, snaking tenderly around the sling. “What?” He mumbled - not that he was complaining, as he nestled his chin on Roy’s shoulder. He sighed contentedly, pressing his face into Roy’s stiff neck, closing his eyes and basking in the warmth.

For some reason, the wheels in his brain began turning. Roy. Dinner. Gunshots. His eyes shot open. “Fuck did you get hit, are you okay?” He pulled back, scanning Roy for injuries.

“I’m fine.” Roy facepalmed.

“What?”

“You got shot and you’re asking if <em>I’m</em> okay?” Roy shook his head, exhaustion clear in his voice. Dick looked at his sling again.

“I got shot?” It was like a piece of a puzzle clicking into place. “I got shot…” Wasn’t he supposed to be somewhere else? “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to my boss?”

Sighing, Roy took a seat on the edge of the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?” Turning, he looked Dick in the eyes. “Don’t answer that actually. Look, I’m sorry I made you go out to dinner.”

“Why? It was nice.” The food was good. Sputtering, Roy searched for words.

“Well. Don’t say I never apologized.” A little bit of a blush crept up his neck.

His mind abruptly recalled something he’d heard Roy saying to Lian. “Apologies come with hugs.” Roy rolled his eyes but moved closer anyways.

“You don’t even know why I’m apologizing.” He mumbled, brushing Dick’s bangs to the side. Dick grinned as Roy pecked his forehead, sweeping him into a second embrace. Two hugs in one day – that was a pretty good day. Roy’s fingers stroked through his hair, as Dick leaned into his muscular side, the world spinning slightly, though he’d found a solid rock to lean on.

[afni-fics]

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 8: The Bandit Tower

Elder Scrolls DC - A Reluctant Dragonborn - Chapter 8: The Bandit Tower by C_R_Scott Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Red Robin (Comics), DCU (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Tim Drake, Lucien Flavius Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Skyrim/DCU crossover, Reluctant Dovahkiin | Dragonborn, Not Beta Read Summary:

In the pre-dawn hours, Tim and Lucien begin their journey to Bleak Falls Barrows. Along the way, they come upon an old abandoned watchtower...

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

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About an hour before sunrise. Tim left Gerdur's home without waking its occupants and went to wait for Lucien on the bridge that lead out of town towards the mountains. He nibbled on some bread and cheese as he listened to the sound of the water rushing over the rocks underneath him. It was a calming sound that soothed his jangled nerves somewhat, and also helped distract him just a little from the fact that he had no access to coffee.

Now that several days had passed since first waking up on that road to Helgen, his body had acclimated enough to remind him, at that god-awful pre-dawn hour, oh by-the-way aren't we addicted to caffeine and why haven't you gotten your fix yet?! Unfortunately, far as he could find from both the inns in Riverwood and in Whiterun, coffee just didn't exist in Skyrim. Apparently Nords just woke up and powered through mornings like Kryptonians.

On top of the growing headache behind his eyes that always signaled the first miserable sign of caffiene withdrawl, Tim was also coping with the lingering pain from his burns. Though he'd used the balm and re-wrapped his torso, upper left arm, and shoulder in linen bandages, the ache of the burn had made it nearly impossible to sleep, especially since he couldn't reach the entire burn area on his back. There were areas he just couldn't get to on his own, and he hadn't wanted to ask for help from anyone else.

So he was sore, tired, and feeling irritable at hell. If it weren't for the weight of the three hundred gold coins resting in pouch at his waist, he would've seriously considered leaving Lucien behind to spare him the pain of dealing with his foul mood. The poor museum man just didn't deserve that.

"I'm going to step out on a limb and guess you are not typically a morning person."

Tim glanced toward the voice and scanned Lucien carefully. While the man had professed not to be much of a fighter, at least he had the sense to know how to dress for the climate they were about to travel into. He appeared to be wearing multiple, sensible layers of clothing meant to keep him warm underneath a long robe that was trimmed with intricate embroidery and had a hood that was already drawn over his head. Above that he wore long fur cloak that settled upon his shoulders and down his back. The man also had a backpack that was probably filled with his research gear, a small oil lantern that was clipped to one side of his belt, and a sheathed sword strapped to the other side.

Tim smiled wryly. "I've always been more of a night owl," he said, hoping belatedly that owls were actually a bird that existed in this place.

Apparently they were as Lucien gave him a sympathetic look. "I understand completely. Used to be the same way when I entered university a few years back. Here." The scholar reached into his bag and pulled out what looked like a leather waterskin. 

Tim took the waterskin and noticed it felt warm. He gave Lucien a quizzical look.

"It's a blend of tea I concocted to help with these kinds of mornings. Brewed some up and made enough for both of us. I figured it was the least I could do for surprising you last night with 'extra baggage' for your trip to the Barrows." Lucien urged Tim to try it.

Curiously, Tim did take sip. It definitely wasn't coffee, but as far as teas went it wasn't that bad. There was definitely a strong herbal quality to it, though Tim couldn't even begin to identify what it could be from. There was also a slight smokiness to the flavor as well, as if there was some sort of roasted grain mixed in. But most important of all, whatever was in it was taking the edge off his caffeine withdrawl symptoms. 

"Thanks Lucien. I really needed that," he said after a moment. 

"Wonderful! Shall we be off then?"

***

When the pair of them left Riverwood, though the sun hadn't risen yet the sky was clear. Unfortunately, the further up the mountain they went towards the Barrows, the worse the weather got. First there was fog. Then there was snow. Tim had shrugged his own fur cloak into a better position to cover more of his body. A glance backward confirmed Lucien had done the same. It was clear neither of them were acclimated to this kind of weather, not like the local Nords.

"How long do you think it will take to reach the Barrow?" Lucien asked as he paused to warm his hands over his small oil lantern. 

Tim made a mental note to purchase a lantern the next time he saw one at a general store. "Gerdur said that once we reach the abandoned tower, we should be about halfway there." 

They continued their trek up the barely there path for about an hour. The snow and the fog made it hard to see more than a few yards far in front of them. For awhile there, Tim wondered if perhaps they had missed seeing the abandoned tower at all.

As their path began to level off where the mountain began to naturally plateau Tim could finally see it. There was an old stone watchtower set right at the edge of a steep cliff overlooking the valley below.

"Finally," Lucien said as he caught sight of the tower as well. "Let's stop there for a bit of a rest before going up the rest of the way."

Tim almost agreed with him, but then he noticed movement around the base of the tower. "Wait!" he said as he reached out to snag Lucien by the cloak and dragged him behind a large pile of rocks.

"What's wron--" Lucien started to ask, but was startled by the expression on his companion's face. Tim's face was a mask of deadly serious focus as he stared at the tower from behind the cover of the rocks.

"There are people at the tower. At least two."

Lucien peeked over the top of the rocks, eyes squinting as he tried to see through the fog and snow. "They must be the bandits that have taken root in this area. But are you sure about the number? I can barely see the outline of the tower through all this mist, let alone any people." When he didn't get an answer, Lucien glanced to his side. "Timothy?"

Much to his surprise, he was all alone except for Tim's footprints winding around the rocks in the snow.

***

Tim stealthily moved closer to the tower by slinking from cover to cover. He hoped Lucien would take the unspoken hint and stay behind until he was done. 

This... felt good. Hiding in shadows. Keeping a civilian safe. Creeping up on goons/bandits while he plotted their inevitable takedown. Finally, for the first time since arriving in Skyrim, Tim felt like himself.

From where he sat, he could see that there was just a change in the guard. One who had been standing at a post a few yards from the tower entrance was swapped by another who'd walked out from it. Tim counted his lucky stars. It was this movement that had caught his attention earlier. Due to the weather, if it had just been the guard standing there, he might not have caught sight of him until it was too late.

Once the other guard disappeared into the tower, leaving his partner alone, Tim made his move.

The solid THUNK of the steel dagger embedding itself in the trunk of the tree he'd been leaning on immediately caught the attention of the bandit guard, startling him from his attempt to stay warm at his post.  

"What the--?!" he exclaimed as he whipped his head to the left and saw the dagger vibrating mere inches from his nose. Then the sound of rustling in a nearby set of bushes, and the sight of the snow-laden branches jostling around immediately caught his eye. It looked as if there was a shadow hunched behind it. With a growl, the guard immediately drew his sword and rushed the bushes, prepared to slice open whoever had thrown the dagger. However, he ended up choking on his warcry as he saw that there was nothing but a backpack sitting in the snow. "Huh?"

Tim smirked as he crept out from behind a large boulder, his quarterstaff a comfortable weight in his hands as he prepared to swing it at his unsuspecting target.

***

The sound of a body falling to the ground with a muffled groan after a series of suspicious thudding noises caught the attention of the original guard as she poked her head out of the tower's entrance. This one drew her bow and nocked an arrow immediately upon seeing that their compatriot was not where he was supposed to be. Cautiously, she walked across the bridge that led to the mountainside. Then she saw the body of the other guard. 

"Skialg!" she called out with alarm. Caution thrown to the wind, she rushed forward to check on him, though, she never saw the staff that jutted out in front of her feet, tripping her into the snow. 

The moment the bow was out of her hands, Tim stepped out and kicked it well out of reach. The female Nord bandit looked up to find a wooden staff pointed ominously at her face. Her eyes widened in horror. 

"You've got two choices," Tim said with a dark smirk and a low tone. "You can either jog down the mountain and never come back, or you can end up like your friend there, taking a nap in the snow. Which would you prefer?"

Tim was ready for a counterattack, and was mildly surprised when it never came. He was expecting anger and retaliation. Instead, there appeared to be genuine terror on the woman's face as she nervously scrambled to her feet and booked it down the mountain path, racing past Lucien without a second though even though she could clearly see him. 

As soon as she was out of sight, Tim relaxed and rested his staff on his shoulder. "Well that was disappointing," he said as Lucien walked up to him. Though the sky was still overcast, somewhere beyond the clouds the sun had risen and had lightened up their surroundings considerably. "Are bandits around here always so skittish?"

"Well how would you feel if you had a mage's staff aimed at your face?" Lucien said with a disapproving frown. "Honestly, Timothy! A Fire Blast or Sparks or Frostbite at point-blank range like that would have been completely excessive and resulted in backlash on you as well as your target. Who taught you how to use a staff with such bad form anyways?"

"Mage's staff?" Tim looked at Lucien with confusion.

Lucien noticed the odd look Tim gave him, then motioned for TIm to give him the staff. Without protest, Tim handed it over. After a moment, it was the scholar's turn to look confused. "Wait... Is this... Just a stick?"

"Actually, it's a quarterstaff."

"But... Wait, so you don't use magic at all?" 

"No."

"But you carry staff."

"Yes."

"That has no magic whatsoever."

"I guess not? Wasn't expecting it to when I bought it."

"But... What do you do with this, if not to cast spells?"

Tim blinked at him, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I just... well... hit people with it?"

Lucien gaped at him. "And, that works?"

Tim pointed at the other bandit that was still unconscious.

"Mara's mercy! Did you actually kill that bandit with a stick?!" Lucien went over and poked the bandit with Tim's quarterstaff experimentally

Tim sighed. "No, he's not dead. Just unconscious. He'll be out for hours, and we'll be long gone by then."

Lucien straightened up with a contemplative expression on his face. "So... your entire plan to get us past the bandits on our way to the Barrow was to sneak up on your own, with just a stick, to bludgeon a pair of bandits into Oblivion, but not really because you had no intention of actually killing them?"

"Yeah. Pretty much," Tim remarked as he went back to the original guard's tree. He tugged the dagger out of its bark and then went to retrieve his backpack from where he'd thrown it earlier. "Maybe it doesn't make sense to you, but even if they're bandits and on the wrong side of the law, they're still people with lives and possibly even families. To end their lives so casually, as if they were worth nothing at all..." He sighed as he closed up his pack. "It's just... not the way I was raised. Ending another human life should never be an option if there are other solutions available."

When Tim looked at Lucien again, he found the scholar studying him in a way that made him feel a little uncomfortable, like he was a puzzle needing to be solved. "That's a very noble sentiment. Truly in the spirit of Stendarr himself," Lucien finally said as he handed the quarterstaff back to Tim. "Hopefully it won't get you killed one day. Tamriel could use more people who thought like you do, though I doubt the bandits on the road will show us the same mercy."

Tim gave Lucien a weak smile. "Hopefully," he echoed. Then he motioned for Lucien to wait as he took a few minutes to drag the still unconscious bandit back into the tower. When Tim came back out to continue his journey with Lucien to the Barrows, he shrugged his shoulders at the odd look the scholar gave him. "What? It wouldn't be much better if I left him out in the open to die of exposure or to be eaten by a wolf."

Lucien laughed as he walked alongside Tim once more up the mountainside. "Somewhere up in the shrubbery there's a starving wolf that's sure to be cursing your name right now."

"Well lucky for me, I've got a big stick."

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

Author Note: This is being pantsed more than plotted, and this is not beta read. We'll see where this journey takes us. Mostly I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Note: If you have any questions about the playthrough and Tim's feelings/experiences that aren't described in the chapters, please ask me in the comments. I'll do my best to answer your questions as best I can.

[cynicalrainbows]

Fanfiction request here!! Anne drinking energy juice and everything’s fine until later on during the show she starts to feel ill..... Aragon just wants to make sure Anne doesn’t vomit on stage....

Sorry for this being so very late, anon.

Not sure if what you wanted was Very-Soft-Aragon but...well, what you got was Very-Soft-Aragon.

She doesn’t want to cry, not on the tube, not in front of everyone, but she does. 

She can’t believe how much she’s let everyone down. She doesn’t even have tiredness as an excise- yes, she’d been tired (they were all tired) but no one else had been stupid enough to think that three energy drinks plus caffiene tablets on a two show day was a sensible solution.

It hadn’t even worked properly, that was the really frustrating thing- she’d still felt exhausted, just jittery too, and she’d barely been able to keep still throughout the show. And she’d never even considered the other side effects- she’d felt sicker than she ever had in her life,to the point that she’d had to duck into the wings during House of Holbein, for fear she’d actually throw up on stage, and on top of everything, she’d just felt so paranoid, so anxious. 

Her voice had sounded wavery and weak even to her own ears, her cocky stage-persona unconvincing. The end of her song was deliberately a bit shrill but this time, she’d sounded terrified from the first verse.

God, what a mess.

She can only imagine what the fans thought of her disaster performance, and she’s trying not to think about how the other queens are going to react when they finish with stagedoor and come home.

It hadn’t exactly been agreed that she’d leave early or that Aragon would take her home- it’s just what ended up happening. A little part of her is afraid that Aragon just wants to scold her privately, to tell her what a disappointment she is- and the thought makes the tears come a little faster.

Aragon doesn’t comment or even look at her, keeping her eyes on an advert for Kumon lessons (extremely clean looking children bent studiously over blank workbooks) but she slips an arm around her shoulders and gently rubs up and down her upper arm.

It’s unexpected but still nice. She takes a chance and lets her head rest against Aragon’s coat, lets her eyes close and the tears slide slowly down her face to her jaw, drying stiff on her skin. When she licks her lips, eyes still shut, she can taste the salt. 

She’s so very tired.

She hates you for ruining the show. They all hate you for ruining the show. She’s not talking because she hates you-

She just about manages to shut the train of thought down, with some effort.

She knows Aragon doesn’t speak for the other queens but it’s a comfort at least to feel that at least one person is still on her side. Aragon may not be talking but she keeps up her gentle movements on her arm and it soothes away the nibbling anxiety that’s never too far from the edge of her mind- no one pets angrily.

Eventually the tube shudders to a stop and Aragon unwinds herself. There’s cold air in the place of warm queen as they walk to the ticket barrier and it makes her want to cling and refuse to be unpeeled- she knows how quickly her mind can spiral if left to its own devices- but just as she’s beginning to feel herself getting shakey again, Aragon nudges her arm.

‘Ok?’

She nods and tries to smile.

‘We’re nearly home-’ Aragon says something else, something about ‘all sorted out’ but a lorry passes, laying on it’s horn and drowns nearly everything out.

‘Oh- yeah-’

Of course they’ll need to sort this out- of course that’s the priority (she pushes down her very-strong desire to crawl under her duvet and forget everything for a few hours, she tries to stop thinking about how long it’s been since she’s eaten anything, about the headache throbbing behind her eyes).

‘Should I-’ She desperately wants to show Aragon that she’s taking this seriously, that she understands how bad it is, that she’ll do everything she needs to do to make amends. ‘Do you think I should do a tweet or a video first? Or- or see what everyone is saying first, see how bad it is-?’

It will take hours, she knows how quickly comments pile up online...but it’s the least she can do-

‘What are you talking about?’

Aragon has stopped walking and is looking at her really strangely and it makes her stomach clench up- perhaps she really is angry, perhaps she really does think that she’s an attention-seeking, self absorbed, shallow, pathetic, worthless-

‘Anne?’ Aragon touches her arm and brings her out of a spiral for a moment. It’s a gentle touch but it still makes her flinch a tiny bit.

‘Just-’ Her voice is very small. ‘You said- you said we need to get everything sorted out-’

‘I meant-’

Aragon pauses and she holds her breath, waiting: her eyes are burning again and as much as she’s trying to hold herself together, a tear escapes. Stupid, selfish, attention seeking.

She’s squeezing her eyes shut as she waits for Aragon to say the words out loud- she surely must be thinking them, she just hopes she doesn’t tell all the others about how she’s still, after everything, trying to manipulate pity.

Then gentle fingers brush her cheek. ‘I meant you, you silly thing. You look awful, you need a hot shower and some sleep. And when did you last eat actual food?’

She shrugs, not meeting Aragon’s eye.

‘I knew it! Supper, shower, bed then, in that order, and no more energy drinks. At least we’re all off tomorrow, you can have a day to rest up-’

Aragon is confusing her- why is she talking as if she’s sick and deserving of sympathy, as if this whole thing isn’t of her own making?

‘But what about- what people will be saying? I ruined the show-’

Aragon is looking at her with her familiar look of fond exasperation. ‘I don’t give two hoots about what people are saying- and that’s assuming anyone even noticed anything was different-’

‘But-’

‘For all they know, you were just playing yourself a bit differently tonight- who are they to say you weren’t?’ Aragon tucks her under her arm and starts walking again- it’s a little bit difficult to keep in step but there’s no way she’s going to move away. ‘If anything, I’m sure the fans will love it-’

‘But- how could they?’

‘Remember when Jane and Anna had that bet on?’ Aragon’s voice is very certain, very assured, and she clings to that certainty- perhaps she hasn’t completely destroyed their reputation.

‘Yes-’

‘Remember how much the fans went wild for it? Remember the hashtags? And all the people begging them to keep it up? Remember how disappointed everyone was when they went back to normal?’ Aragon’s voice has fallen into the soothing cadence of a bedtime- and she DOES remember, how Jane spent a show imitating Anna’s brash cockiness, while Anna made herself temporarily vulnerable, and how fans had blown up the whole thing into a story of almost mythical proportions.

‘Do you really think they’ll think that for me?’ 

‘Of course. And if not- well, we can always tell them that’s what you were going for.’ As they get to their familiar front door, Aragon turns and looks her straight in the eye. ‘It’ll be all be ok, alright? I promise you, it will be fine.’

She can’t quite bring herself to agree, but she doesn’t want to contradict her either, settling for a shaky nod.

Aragon smiles as she digs out her key and unlocks the front door.

‘You’ll see I’m right, and when I am, I’ll remind you of it forever. You’ll be sick of me saying it.’

She gives a weak smile, that fades as she realises just how queasy she still feels. Aragon notices and tilts her head sympathetically.

‘Still feeling bad?’

She manages a nod.

‘Let's get you upstairs- you’ll feel better after some sleep. The others won’t be back for a bit-’

Standing under the shower is an effort but it’s a relief to wash off the stickiness of the day, even if she has to steady herself with a hand against the tiled wall.

Damp-haired and pajama clad, she makes her way back to her bedroom and finds the covers of her bed turned down and her curtains drawn. As she gets under the covers, she finds a hot water bottle at the foot of the bed and the thoughtfulness of it almost makes her want to cry again. Or maybe she’s just really tired and overly emotional and coming down from the biggest caffeine high imaginable.

 It’s hard to tell really.

There’s a tap on the door and then Aragon enters, balancing a tray which she sets down on the bedside table.

Water, paracetemol, a mug of soup, some anti-nausea pills.

‘Here- I know you probably don’t feel like it but you should try and have something.’

‘Thanks.’

She expects her to leave but instead Aragon settles herself down on the edge of the bed, and she finds she’s grateful for the promise of company, even if she’s still half waiting to be told off.

‘Jane texted while you were showering-’

She pauses, the glass halfway to her lips.

‘She said to tell you that they all hope you’re ok.’

It’s a surprise, for all of Aragon’s reassurances. 

‘Really?’

‘She said they all feel bad for not coming with us- she said if you’re asleep when they get in, they’ll try not to make too much noise.’

‘Oh.’ The thought warms her heart: they’re not angry, they’re not angry.’

‘They also say-’ Aragon shifts position and she makes room for her against the headboard. ‘The fans were sad not to see you at stagedoor- they were all apparently very moved by your new spin on your character…’

Aragon puts her phone down with a smile like a cat in a vat of cream. ‘What did I tell you?’

It’s such a relief, she can’t even reply- it’s all ok. She hasn’t ruined anything. It’s ok.

She leans into Aragon, all the tension leaving her at once, and lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. Aragons hands move through her damp hair- it feels good, she lets her eyes drift shut.

‘Hey-’ Aragon taps her arm. ‘No falling asleep on me until you’re properly hydrated- you don’t need to wake up with a headache-’

She knows she’s right but still- she just wants to enjoy the feeling of being able to relax properly for the first time in hours (in days) for a little longer.

‘In a minute.’ 

Her voice is muffled against Aragon’s shirt but she must have heard- her arms actually go around her properly, pulling her closer.  

Her voice is faintly amused and so very warm, so loving. 

‘Alright.’ A chuckle vibrates Aragon’s chest as she burrows infinitesimally closer. ‘In a minute.’

[joonslushii]

BTS Reacting to:

You Breaking Down

Sorry, I know that the intro is a bit long but I try to make my writings pretty vivid and end up getting carried away! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :)

_______________________

You are in college and have recently been having a rough couple of weeks dealing with all of the homework and on top of that, a job. At first you were handling it all fine, but the harsh reality of all the work you had to get finished was finally taking its toll on you. You knew that staying up till almost 4am almost every night and getting up at around 7 for your college classes was unhealthy but you had, unknowingly, made a habit of replacing your need to sleep with Caffiene. The exhaustion was finally catching up to you. All day you had been trying not to cry as you watched more homework and work being loaded onto your “To-Do” list.

As the day finally came to its end, you went straight home in hopes to cuddle with your sweet boyfriend, knowing that as soon as he pulled you into his embrace, the stressful feeling would melt away. But what you didn’t expect was for yourself to break down as soon as you reached his arms.

Jin:

When you had walked in, as expected, Jin had been in the kitchen cooking dinner so that you wouldn’t be starving when you got home. He noticed something was off when he noticed your bottom lip trembling. He quickly turned off whatever kitchen appliances he had been using. He was about to ask you what was wrong when you suddenly power walked across the kitchen and into his arms. At this point, you were sobbing into his chest and he could feel your body shake with every sob. Still wrapped tight in his arms, he waddled you over to the couch and sat down. You were now in his lap as he tried to calm you down with his words.

“Shhh, princess you’re okay now. Let me help you, okay?”

“Hey princess..Will you tell me what’s wrong? You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but it would help me make you feel better if you did!”

“I’m making food, would you want to eat a bit?”

Namjoon:

Namjoon, being the observant and caring person he is, probably already had a feeling that it was coming. He remembered sometime earlier in the week you had told him how stressed you were and he had told you that you needed to take a break or it’d get worse. As he predicted, you didn’t listen. So he constantly sent you cute little texts that read things like:

“I hope your having a good day babygirl! I love you!”

and

“Be ready for lots of kisses when you get homeee”.

When you had come into the door, Namjoon was sitting on the couch with his computer in his lap, headphones covering his ears, probably working on music. He hadn’t seen you yet so you went over to the couch and sat down next to him, so close that your legs were touching. You then proceeded to lean over and wrap your arms around his torso while your face was buried into his side. He thought you were being adorable and was about to ask you how your day went but was met with the feeling of wet tears on his shirt. As your body shaked from the force of your sobs Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows and grabbed the sides of your face gently, bringing it up to where he could see it. He glided his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping your tears.

“I’m sorry I got your shirt wet, Joonie.” You whispered, barely audible.

“Don’t apologize baby, are you okay? Are you over-working yourself again? I thought I told you to give yourself a break? I don’t like seeing you cry.” He said with a pout. You giggled quietly at how he caringly scolded you and kissed his cheek, thanking him.

Hoseok:

Instead of going home Hobi had asked you if you wanted to come watch him dance at the studio. Wanting to just be with your boyfriend after a long day, you went. You arrived at the building and found the studio he was in. Loud music pounded in your ears as you walked in. As soon as he saw you he rushed to turn the music off.

“Hey babe! I’m glad you came, you look bea-“ he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence as the force of your body crashed into his. For Hobi, everything went still as he heard your loud, broken sounding sobs. You were now on the floor in between Hoseok’s legs as he rocked you side to side and you cried into his arms.

“It’s just been s-so hard lately, there’s so much going o-on and I don’t know if I c-can handle i-it” you choked out, tears clouding your vision.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. I believe in you baby, you’ve already come so far, give yourself a break, me and everyone around you can see how hard your working. I know you can do it baby.” He said as he planted kisses on the top of your head, one after the other.

Yoongi:

You stumbled into the door of your shared apartment, and saw Yoongi nowhere to be seen. You looked in the living room, kitchen, bedroom, and still couldn’t find him. The only other place he could be was in the guest room, which was now his studio. You knocked on the door and he didn’t answer. You assumed he had headphones on so you decided to just go in. You went in and there he was.

Yoongi was sitting at a giant desk with headphones over his ears, papers scattered, clicking violently around the screen. You had always hated disturbing him while he was so concentrated but this time you really needed him. You tapped the side of his headphones and he turned around and took them off. He smiled his gummy smile but that soon disappeared as he sensed your upset mood and stood up to greet you.

“Babe? Are you okay?” He asked, and it was as if those 4 words had set off a bomb inside you and 2 seconds later you were on the couch in his studio sobbing into his lap.

He sat up straight while you laid your head on his lap, sobbing as he plays with your hair. He decides that he’ll ask you about it when you calm down, but for now he decided to whisper comforting things into your ear.

“We all need a good cry once in a while, baby, don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m here Babygirl. Let it out, let it out.”

Jimin:

As soon as you reached your apartment you unlocked the door and immediately went to find Jimin. After looking in the living room, you found him in your shared bedroom watching TV. He was about to greet you when he recognized the familiar look in your eyes. To him, the look in your eyes was a call for comfort; for help.

“Jiminie, I-I” you tried to talk but you felt yourself getting choked up. He saw your eyes glaze over with tears and he knew he needed to do something. You blinked and suddenly he was right in front of you pulling you up into his embrace as he carried you to the bed. He laid you both down and placed you on his chest. He felt your hands curl tightly around the material of his shirt as you sobbed. Hard.

No words needed to be exchanged at that moment. You don’t think you’ve ever had someone who understands you like jimin does. He caresses your tear covered cheeks as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

“It’s okay, I got you now. Shhhh baby.”

“Hey, I love you, okay?”

“Jiminie’s here, im here.”

Taehyung:

You walked into your apartment to find Taehyung sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, looking through the pictures he took on his camera. He looked up with a blank look on his face and when he saw you, almost instantly, his boxy smile appeared.

“Welcome home angel, how-“ he was interrupted by the sound of a small whimper and he looked at you and noticed things he hadn’t noticed before. He noticed the way your eyes were clouded with tears, one threathing to slip out. He noticed the way your legs trembled as if you could collapse any minute. He noticed your bottom lip forming into a pout, he noticed the way you weren’t responding to him with a smile on your face like you usually do. He noticed it all.

Before he knew it, you had collapsed onto your knees and were know sobbing. The best thing he could do right now was be there for you; so that’s what he did.

He rushed to your side, dropping his camera on the couch in the process. He got down to your level and held you as you cried. He lifted you into his lap as you cried into his chest. He sat there with you in his lap as your hands clenched onto the thin material of his shirt and he whispered sweet things into your ear to try and get you to calm down. He knew exactly what was happening. He knew your condition had to have been caused by months of bottling up stress. He thought about trying to tell jokes or be funny but he knew that now wasn’t the time. Right now you just needed to be comforted and feel loved.

“I love you so so so much babygirl.” he whispered as he kissed away all the tears streaming down your face.

“I need you to know how amazing you are, love. You’re doing your best and that’s more than enough.”

“shhhh, shhhh, shhhh, it’ll be okay, angel.” he whispered, giving you forehead kisses and rocking you back in forth in his arms.

Jungkook:

You opened the door and walked into the living room to find an overly-focused Jungkook playing video games on the TV. You sat your purse down and other belongings down and immediately made your way to the couch.

Jungkook was sitting on the edge of the couch so you slid right behind him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso while laying your head against his back. He finally noticed your presence and paused his game. He turned around to give you a sweet kiss on the lips but noticed the salty taste of your tears as he pulled back.

Without hesitation he had turned you both around so that you were now straddling his lap while your arms were around shoulders, and were crying into his neck. You were sobbing harder now that you had finally been getting the comfort you needed after holding in all your stress for so long. He was holding you tight against him as your body shook from sobbing. All he could do at the moment was hold you and try to make you feel better with his words.

“I’m so proud of you, my gorgeous girl”

“Just know that I love you, okay? I love you so fucking much.” He whispers in your ear as he rubs your back.

“You gotta open up to me more, okay? I care.” He whispers, his voice on the verge of breaking.

[dekkit-blog]

coffee

I came 'round the kitchen this evening at 2000. Seeing my parents reclined nearby, I greeted them. As I went to the coffee machine to make myself a lovely cup of evening joe, I remembered my father's previously expressed distaste for coffee any later than a curfew of 1900.

I decide to make a light comment, the sort of comment that one can do any number of things with and react in any number of ways. I decided to make a light comment that directs any further conversation towards the fact that I had approached the coffee machine to make myself a lovely cup of evening joe at 2000 and that I remembered my father's previously expressed distaste for coffee any later than a curfew of 1900.

I said to him, "I hope you don't mind me making a cup of coffee this late, Dad".

He replied, "are you asking me for permission?"

My mom, sensing a twenty minute shouting match incoming, quickly intervened and explained that I had previously told her how I tend to take naps and get really good and healthy rest after drinking coffee.

At this time, I had begun to pour grinds into the single-cup strainer. As I started the coffee machine, my father reminded me that he thinks it rather stupid to make coffee so late at night.

I thought to myself, "you don't need to remind me".

In order to encourage some sort of trust between my father and I, since I had gathered from previous arguments that his distaste for late-night coffee stems from a strong belief in the traditional 8-hours-of-sleep-at-night-and-stay-up-all-day system (not for himself, mind you, but only for me. He tends to take long naps in the afternoon and spends much of the hours between 0000 and 0500 awake in the TV room), I thought it best to generate some sort of proof that a single cup of coffee at 2000 would not impede my health or take away from any rest I would otherwise have enjoyed.

This proof that I thought to generate came in the form of a question to my father: "Would you like me to get up at 0700 and stay awake until 2200 tomorrow?".

This seemed, to me, the ultimate and sublime solution to the storm that had begun to grow since my first steps into the kitchen that fateful evening. Unfortunately, the hope for this solution to cease all anger and judgement from my father quickly died. He casually glanced over to me, said nothing, and indicated nothing. I, sorrowfully, began my climb up the stairs to my gorgeous and inviting bedroom. As I exited the kitchen with my accursed cup of black, I pondered what could cause my father's distrust in me. What would make him think that his own son, a man in his mid twenties, did not possess the mental capacity to manage his own sleep-wake cycle? What made my father think that I need his control over whether I get to have caffiene or sugar late at night? Does he simply hate me? If so, why does he never confront me with this hatred? Why does he never say to me that he hates me? Does he genuinely think of me as an idiot, despite all indications otherwise?

Perhaps he is one of those folk who don't believe in their own capacity for communication of their own values without first building up towards a dramatic scene. Perhaps he needs to behave in this way so that it becomes entirely up to me to confront him and bring out the terrible truth, where he then pretends that he doesn't know I'm a man in his mid twenties with a Bachelor's degree who has traveled the country and the world, and instead focuses on the fact that I moved back in recently. Perhaps, if he focuses solely on that singular fact, he can comfortably call me a manchild.

Indeed, it would seem far more manly of me to leave my parents' lovely estate and wander the lands homeless. However, I have delegated not to do so. I suppose that, when my father has died, and I stare at his corpse in his final bed, wearing a nice suit, with a nice house, a nice car, and a nice coffee maker in my nice hotel room, I won't have to worry about what makes me a man in his eyes. I'll only have to worry about whether they have my preferred brand of dark roast lmao.

Forgive this tangential rant and rather hateful joke. Back to the primary story.

As I climbed up the stairs, my mother, once again sensing an impending conflict, intervened with a life-saving statement.

"Yes, he would like to see you up at 7 and in bed at 10 tomorrow. That would help"

I leave, wondering if my parents have decided to view me as a fucking autist now. Maybe they expected me to read some social queue with my dad. Somebody who I find myself in meaningless conflicts with as often as I find myself in meaningless conflicts with my father doesn't tempt me towards a level of intimacy that exceeds very basic physical communication (such as hugs, waving, or nodding of the head) or very clear verbal communication.

It pains me that the only lesson I've learned in life comes in the form of a dualistic if-else function, very much akin to computer programming conditional statements.

[IF] If you mess your life up, the world will view it as your fault.

[ELSE] If you succeed in your endeavours, the world will view it as their success.

A bitter and angry conditional statement, but a seemingly accurate one. As in the words of "Little Johnny", a classic country tune (though I tend to despise country music):

nobody cares if i'm lonely

nobody cares if i'm down

Enough of this, however.

I shall earn my father's love, affection, and utmost trust by drinking a shitload of coffee and staying up all night and all day until going to bed at 10pm tomorrow like a wild motherfucker.

peace out, stay strong, love yourself. don't let conflict get in the way of you choosing to love.

In the words of a good friend, "The only way to win is through positivity".

[fadeintocase]

i'm not fucking around anymore 6-2-18

this is not gonna be an every day thing i imagine. that's fine. i'll let it find its rhythm.

i'm gonna talk more about about the wave and rhythm philosophy and how it lets you get a better grip on overall habits.

Basically this is going to be the start of a lot of whimsical musical analogies for self improvement.

so, personal upkeep. I’m back to eating one meal a day, though i cheat and have snacks a little to early or a little too late sometimes. Smoothing that wrinkle out. 

I’ve tried bulletproof coffee a few times, recently on a day I ate nothing else. I felt physically very good and energized, much lighter, but just a bit too caffienated for my liking. I might swap coffee out for black tea and see how that tastes with butter and coconut oil instead.

The short “Sun Salutations” yoga thing from that app Fabulous actually opens up more of what I need to in a much shorter amount of time, so I think i’m going to stick to that nightly, and do a longer class like once a week.

Same with their morning workout. It’s doing well for me so far. Lets hope I can keep this momentum up.

Of course dishes piled up a few times while i was working on a track for patreon, but I knocked those out on my first free day and that felt incredibly satisfying. There’s nothing that resets your head quite like a clean apartment.

Intervals and Harmony

This has to start with some music theory talk. These are bare basics, don't worry.

So. A sound is made up of waves. A Tone is a wave with a sustained frequency. Meaning, there's a relatively fixed number of waves per second for the duration of the tone.

an A in western music is turned to 440Hz. That's 440 waves a second.

Music is made by combining tones in a scale. Intervals in a scale, that is, amount of tones up the scale from the root, have different qualities and roles in the melody. They combine with the root in different ways to form chords.

They find their origin in overtones. When you play a note, there are implied tones that are generated with it. Think of a circle of people singing. A few people singing one note will produce the sound of other harmonic tones within the mix of their voices. Someone joining could easily find the tone of the harmonic and fill that gap with a voice. This is what happens mathematically.

The most absolute combination of intervals, the 2nd harmonic, is the octave. It's the same tone but with double the waves. A 2:1 ratio of wavelengths. Brighter.

The second, most perfect actual harmonic interval, the 3rd harmonic, is the perfect fifth. This is a ratio of 3:2. It sounds perfect. Solid. But also open. Clear. It's known as the "power chord" and for good reason. Amplifying a fifth gives a sense of authority, it draws a lower undertone an octave below the root tone as well. But that's getting into the weeds a little too much.

The 4th harmonic is another octave. The 5th harmonic is the major third, a 5:4 ratio.

A happy and pleasant interval. Balanced.

Combining a tone with the 3rd and 5th harmonics give you a major chord. And that's neat.

Polyrhythms

Lets zoom out a little more. So we measure oscillations in a second as waves. There's another kind of frequent oscillation in music. Rhythm. Rhythm is just a steady impulse with a fixed amount of time between repetitions over a duration of the rhythm.

When you combine different patterns of pulses over each other, you can get a groove going.

If the rhythm is relatively based on sets of regular pulses, this is called a polyrhythm.

So there's simple math behind what harmonies sound good to us. Is there also simple math for what polyrhythms sound good to us? Turns out. It's the same.

Oh. So what feels good to us as humans are pulses along these mathematical ratios, no matter how far the space is between them.

Of course, you can find a lot of this stuff in my music. Like Sleep's strumming pattern and the stacatto tail the violin does are based on a 5:4 polyrhythm. (Which fits along the theme of there being an inverted open G5 thru most of the chords, when the key is E minor, to create a hollow expectation of major that only resolves through the other chords moving through it. That and the polyrhythm are asking for a major chord which never lasts more than a bar.)

Now you may understand that harmony extends beyond just audible notes.

Cosmic Cycles

Lets zoom out a little more. Oscilations over a period of time is a wave. Mathematical interplay between these oscilations is an interval. You know, the solar system is all cycles and oscillations too.

This site here does a thing where they take the orbit or rotational periods of celestial bodies and double their frequencies over and over until they get an octave of the tone audible to humans. Keep in mind, same tone, just an octave of it.

I'm not really interested in using these for like meditative healing or whatever, but what i'm interested in is the interplay between some of these.

For instance, the Earth year and the Synodic moon form an interval just wider than a fifth. Moving the result they come up with down 2 whole hz gives you damn near a perfect fifth. An approximation of a 3rd harmonic. Since the perfect fifth's quality is that it's perfect, you can't expect nature to get all the way there.

Consider seasons. That's just 2 octaves up from the earth year. That's the 4th harmonic.

If you add in the platonic year, the procession of the equinox, which is the result of the push and pull of the sun and moon on the earth's tilt, you get a major third from the earth year. The 5th harmonic.

Well would you look at that. So it turns out, when these oscillations interplay around earth, the overtones they generate are the harmonic series. And guess what came out of that pleasant major chord? Us.

The first cycles life had to work with were the rising and setting of the sun, the tides, and the seasons.

Human Cyclical Examples

Since you're part of this cosmic song and anything you do expresses within the context of that cosmic song, you can zoom out and consider your physical presence to be an instrument. And instrument that you are playing, taking cues from the universe to make sure you're in tune.

So, if you ever do something once a week, you're approximating a 4th Harmonic from the lunar cycle. If you ever do something once a month, you're approximating a perfect fifth (12th harmonic) from the year.

There's about 3 months a season, too, giving us a 1:3 harmonic with the seasons, an octave-stretched perfect fifth.

We wound up with a 7 day week. A 7:4 ratio happens to be a harmonic 7th. A leading tone. This is the note that makes the dominant 7th chord. The Jazz/Blues chord. It makes sense to add to a major chord, but introduces a subtle tension that wants to pull it to something else. This is the eternal feeling of the day to day grind. It's there in the waves. As you grow up you can either feel lightly tense at things not being perfectly resolved all the time, or you can learn to like jazz. I'm not too into jazz yet.

Habits & Cycles

This is the philosophy i stick to when i want to build habits. It allows me to visualize my life in a way that takes the intricacies of day to day interaction and makes them a song you recite and perform. It allows you to live from your ideal self and to map your physical self's activity to try to reach it.

You do things weekly to keep yourself grounded. Usually rituals like church or shit you meet up with your friends and do.

Things you do daily keep yourself moving forward, it projects a leading tone for you.

At least that's what i've been working with. Remembering the simple beauty of the harmony of the universe is invigorating to me. It makes me want to sing along with the cosmos.

Anyway, sometimes you need that feeling of something higher and more pure to keep yourself driven. It's why AA meetings tell people to find a higher power. Most people envision their god as a benevelent creator. In the context of our physical universe, my god is a major chord.

Anyway, I’m off to the farmers market.

Keep Climbing!

bonus batshit video

[littlemisseightysixed]

So the lovely @olivieblake has written TONS of amazing works that myself and hundreds of others have fallen in love with. One of her current WIP’s is Ride or Die and being a lover of writing, music, and Draco Malfoy I figured I would make my own playlist for this fic (they would work with some of her other stories as well ;) check them out) The above images are not mine the first one is the authors, the next two are from Feltbeats and the last one was done by the amazing @littlechmura <3 Hope you guys like the songs! :)

@jackwhitesgirl‘s Ride Or Die Playlist

Tom Odell - Concrete 

“ Got me in my hotel room More pillows I could, ever use I think they call it luxury But it doesn't make a difference to me.

Cause I'd sleep, on a bed that's made of concrete Just the two of us and, no sheet Just your feet, rubbing up against mine 

Staring at the picture on the wall Yeah it's pretty clever, but it's got no soul Show me your masterpiece And it wouldn't make a difference to me Cause I'd sleep, on a bed that's made of concrete Just the two of us and, no sheet Just your feet, rubbing up against mine Oh rubbing up against mine Oh rubbing up against mine.”

Barns Courtney - Hellfire

“Down in the forest With the devil in me I'll remember the looks on their faces Through the sycamore trees.

And we'll chase a fire Come to take me home I'm lost in the woods And I was alone

Hellfire, hellfire Take my soul I've waited, waited I'm ready to go Mothers, children Lock your doors I'm waiting I'm ready to go”

Arctic Monkeys - You’re So Dark 

“ Cause you're so dark, babe But I want you hard You're so dark, babe I know you're nothing like mine Cause she's walking on sunshine And your love would tear us apart And I know I'm not your type Cause I don't shun the daylight But baby I'm willing to start”

Ed Sheeran - Shape of You

“ The club isn't the best place to find a lover So the bar is where I go Me and my friends at the table doing shots Drinking fast and then we talk slow (mmmm) You come over and start up a conversation with just me And trust me I'll give it a chance now Take my hand, stop Put Van The Man on the jukebox And then we start to dance And now I'm singing like... I'm in love with the shape of you We push and pull like a magnet do Although my heart is falling too I'm in love with your body And last night you were in my room And now my bedsheets smell like you Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with your body... Every day discovering something brand new I'm in love with the shape of you.”

The Weeknd Ft. Ed Sheeran - Dark Times 

“ Waking up, half past five Blood on pillow, one bruised eye Drunk too much, you know what I'm like But you should've seen the other guy... 

This ain't the right time for you to fall in love with me Well baby I'm just being honest And I know my lies could not make you believe We're running in circles that's why”

Jaymes Young - I’ll Be Good

“ I thought I saw the devil, this morning Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue With the warning to help me see myself clearer...

My past has tasted bitter for years now, So I wield an iron fist Grace is just weakness Or so I've been told. I've been cold, I've been merciless But the blood on my hands scares me to death Maybe I'm waking up today I'll be good, I'll be good And I'll love the world, like I should... For all of the light that I shut out For all of the innocent things that I've doubt For all of the bruises that I've caused and the tears For all of the things that I've done all these years Yeah, for all of the sparks that I've stomped out For all of the perfect things that I doubt.

I’ll be good.”

Glass Animals - Pork Soda 

“ Somewhere in South End when you were fun You took my hand and you made me run Up past the prison to the seafront You climbed the cliff edge and took the plunge Why can’t we laugh now like we did then? How come I see you and ache instead? How come you only look pleased in bed? Let's climb the cliff edge and jump again.”

The Heydaze - Hurt Like Hell

“ Touch down on the red eye I got red eyes too Headache from the red wine No sleep when I think about you When I think about you.

Cold sweat on a hot night A little late night caffiene Keep me from my own mind No sleep when I dream about you When I dream about you.  

If I stop for a minute If I sink back in it It'll hurt like hell If I slip for a minute If I stop forgetting It'll hurt like hell

Yeah, you hurt like hell.”

Fever Ray - If I Had A Heart

“ If I had a heart I could love you If I had a voice I would sing After the night when I wake up I'll see what tomorrow brings.”

Elliot Moss - Slip

“ I won’t keep watching you Dance around in your smoke And flicker out You’re not the light I used to know I don’t believe in safety nets Strung below that make it alright To let go You gotta hold on...

What’s the matter? You don’t have enough rain To make up your storm? Oooh whatcha look so sad for? Where’s the light I used to know? Oh it’s gonna Slip, slip, slip through your Slip, slip, slip through your hands

POP ETC - What am I Becoming?

“ I've been running so long These shadows start to feel like home Oh I know it's backwards Been scared so long Can't recall what I started running from What am I becoming?”

Banners - Start a Riot

“ I will march down an empty street like a ship into the storm No surrender, no retreat I will tear down every wall Just to keep you warm Just to bring you home I will burn this city down for a diamond in the dust I will keep you safe and sound when there's no one left to trust Will you take my hand? We can make our stand

If your world falls apart I'd start a riot If night falls in your heart I'd light the fire In the dark, when you sound the alarm We'll find each other's arms For your love, all you are I'd start a riot.”

Run River North - Run Or Hide

“ Lying in the dark With your shadow, shadow hanging over me Shaking the ground, your footsteps, footsteps calling out my name.

Off to the races But all of these faces keep rolling by me now I don't understand these lines in my hand all look the same, all look the same

I think I changed my mind about a million times Oh to run or hide Oh to run or hide I'm gonna call this out I'm coming back somehow I will run or hide I will run or hide.”  

Nothing But Thieves - Tempt You (Evocatio)

“ Darling I'm gonna build you something Sweet thing you need something better Let me build you something better...

Heaven It's lonely in your heaven Darling we should get together I could worship you forever...

Just let me spend my money Goddess we can make this simple I want to build a brand new temple...

Heaven There's room for us in heaven We could stay this way forever While your people pray together...

How do I tempt you Out of the city Out of the city Out of the city tonight?”