#i think it's all much simpler than the charts would lead you to believe i think i just need to not think about it and rely on my

[szappan]

finally got to monikko in finnish and it's uhh.

[lvnatiq]

Random Relationship Headcanons | Felix Escellun x gn!reader

a/n: Hey ! On todays menu I am serving you modern au relationship headcanons. I know for a fact that I can’t write headcanons AT ALL yet here we are, out of spite I will keep trying until I can manage to write good shit. I’m going through a chaotic time in my life so please be patient with me 😭

I’m currently working on tattoo artist! reader x Felix headcanons and college!enemies to lovers one-shot. Knowing that Felix’s fav trope is enemies to lovers, I will post it hopefully before his new chapter drops. I used most of the hcs that were sent to me but if you couldn’t see yours, then it will probably be used on the other works.

No beta we die like men.

warnings: curse words, nsfw under the cut, random sage moments, felix being a ‘the neighborhood’ song basically.

You persuade him to start an Instagram account, and because of his family's popularity, he quickly gains followers. His account is practically empty because he would rather spend his time stalking your account on Instagram. You noticed the emptiness and wanted to take him out and take some photos for his account, which turned out amazingly. He is a little camera shy, so be patient with him.

You like to watch him apply his eyeliner but he finds it so stressing to do under your gaze.  He used to be able to do it easily, but it has now become one of his most difficult tasks. You wanted to ask for his assistance in applying eyeliner to you in the hopes of making it simpler for him; he agreed but quickly regretted it when he realized how near your faces would be. You with your eyes closed, waiting for him to drag the line as he was only thinking about how bad he wanted to kiss you. 

Felix has a Polaroid of you and stella in his wallet I said what I said.

When it comes to himself, he can be a pessimist, but when it comes to you, he is the most loving and positive boyfriend you could ever ask for. You have a dream ? He is ready to help you achieve it. Do you want to change in your life ? Go for it, He’s more excited than you are.

He can be quite insecure at times when it comes to your relationship because he feels like you deserve the world but the world is too big for his tiny hands. Will his cuddles be enough ? God he hopes so.

He almost cried when you told him you loved him for the first time. He's also baffled as to how you might feel the same way about him.

Drunk Felix is really clingy and honest. Whatever he can’t say sober drunk felix can and definitely will.

“May the stars let my death be between your glorious thighs amen-“ “Felix-”

Felix is weird but it add to his charm. It’s not unusual for you to wake up in the middle of the night and find the pillow besides yours empty. In the dead of night, you will find Felix munching on some weird ass food combinations.

He also has a habit of doing things that are extremely adorable without even noticing it. Like walking around the house in his oversized shirts, his hand clutching at the cuffs whilst the other one sheepishly rubs his eye.

“Can I lay on your lap ? I promise I won’t fall asleep. I just need to rest for a little.” His voice is so soft and hushed. “Of course, come here.” He throws himself onto you as he comes hopping on his tip toes.

He falls asleep on his desk too often, so you have to carry him back to his room, where he snuggles against you while you lead him there. Once he's in his room, he insists that you stay with him, so you wait until he falls asleep as you play with his hair, and he wakes up thinking it was all a dream.

I firmly believe that Felix’s love language is acts of service. Like making you coffee and bringing you random snacks as you work or wrapping you up in fluffy blankets whenever he catches you slacking on the couch.

He's been romanticizing anything and everything since he met you. When he sees beautiful flowers, he wants to bring them to you, but he also believes that their beauty stems from the fact that they are alive, so he argues and stresses a lot when deciding what to do in simple situations like these.

His edginess belongs to his impulsiveness and his style only at any other situation he's a complete softboy.

And I'm certain he knows a variety of card tricks. He enjoys showing off, and he enjoys it even more when you become fascinated and beg him to share the trick.

If you're a morning person, you'll probably spend your mornings alone in solitude, finishing work before the day begins, but if you're a night owl, you and Felix will go out for night walks and Felix would go out for night walks, sharing headphones to play some music, enjoy each others presence and develop a habit of watching the sunrise together.

Felix makes you playlists at the most random times and with the most random names. Until one day he sent you a playlist at around 4 a.m called “you”, filled with his favorite music. He usually sees music as a safe space for himself and now that you are his safe place too it’s only appropriate for him to do so. This only further proves how he spends his time thinking about you.

I feel like Felix would have what most would call "attachment issues" but it’s mainly because of his protective tendencies. This is not to say that he’s this "overly jealous toxic" character; rather, he has never had anyone to truly call his own in his entire life so he would do anything to protect it.

Felix is also big on astrology, so if you want the perfect birth chart, he'll give it to you. Also he owns a lovely deck of tarot cards, and if you ask him for a love reading, he can't manage to keep his words and feelings to himself so he modifies your reading according to him and his desires. Let the boy abuse his powers for the sake of love.

His style could be described as dark academia, his wardrobe mainly consists of dark colors, lots and lots of blazers and a lot of oversized shirts. He also loves jewelry so he owns a lot of rings and chains. Just so you know, if you're wearing any of his rings, his heart is doing cartwheels.

Is it obvious that he loves it when you place your hand in his and play with his rings with your fingertips.

Spoil him. Buy him that baby blue hoodie with cat ears.

“Ah, you look adorable.” “Isn’t it a bit too b-big ?” “You could say that. Do you mind ?” “No, I like it that way.” “I would know.” You smirk followed by felix’s gasp. “If you so desperately wanted a cat boy you know you have me right ?” Nudging your shoulder, Sage leapt into the conversation. “What is he talking about ?”  Felix grumbled, only to notice two fuzzy triangular fabrics on top of his head as he brushed his fingertips over it.

He’s obsessed with your hands, kissing your knuckles, drawing circles in your palm. At a certain point it became an involuntary gesture he does it quite often without realizing.

He’s also canonically extremely blushy but he would never admit it. You’re convinced he uses some sort of make up because it is not possible for the pink dusting his cheeks to look this good.

He insists that you’re cold even in the warmest weathers because he wants to see you in his coat.

Sage forces Felix to take his thirst trap Tiktoks.

He really appreciates it when you add to his herbal tea collection without him noticing and he considers it a sign of affection because he takes his tea very seriously.

He loses it when you call him baby he gets flustered and frustrated but it’s all because it rolls off of your tongue so nicely that he can’t get enough of it.

Felix owns a broad collection of scented lip balms some of them are tinted. You didn’t hear this from me.

He never once took anything the Sage says seriously until he saw how well you two got along. He never thought that he would be standing there taking relationship and flirting advice from the frat boy.

Felix is a complete asshole when he wants to. He’s very verbal about it too. Consistent sarcastic remarks and eye rolls. I mean it runs in his blood, look at Escell.

You love it when he suddenly whips out the confident Felix, it’s not a daily occurrence you know.

When Felix is concentrated, he’s lost and there’s almost no way you or anything else can distract him. So it’s time to grab some colorful hair clips and ties to fuck around with his hair.

Felix is not the best at verbally expressing his gratitude towards you. He doesn’t know what he would do if you weren’t there for him at the lowest points of his life where normally he would close himself and bare the weight of his family problems and personal life issues that he can’t seem to get out of. Now he has you, someone who’s willing to listen to him and offer him a warm embrace when he needs the most. 

While you to play games together, when he wins he wears that iconic shit eating grin of his with pride looking at you through the corner of his eye. “Shit, what do you want me to say to that felix ? Perhaps I should call you master now that you won ‘one’ fucking round.” He is praying that the screen light is covering the fact that he is a blushy mess after hearing you say that.

NSFW

I cannot stress this enough but he is extremely vocal in bed. Whining, trying to restrict himself from making too much noise but failing miserably.

Muffled pants, choked sobs and lots of pleasure infused tears.

He loves getting praised during sex but what he loves more is to get praised after it’s all over. Like you telling him how great he was, how well he behaved, how good he made you feel. He experiences sub drops a lot so please assure him that he did well :(

He’s into power-play but not in a submissive or dominant kind of relationship, it’s more of a psychological thing where the fact that he can see how good he makes you feel gives him a rush of confidence and adrenaline.

I believe that this motherfucker is a masochist, pain makes him more excited than getting an update on his favorite author who went on a year long hiatus and that is saying a lot.

Bite him. Scratch him. It is so stimulating for him he can reach his high just from those actions.

Fuck do anything to his ears bite, lick, pull, blow on it. He is extremely sensitive so anything you do will basically drive him out of his mind. It will most definitely lead to him trembling beneath your fingertips.

You must think that you are the only one who is such a tease but you’re wrong. Felix teases you quite often mostly to direct your attention towards him or to keep your attention on him. He’s quite greedy when it comes to you and your hands on his body. Unbuttoning unnecessary amount of buttons on his shirt to show a little skin that he knows you’ll notice. Playing with his necklace placing the chain between his lips dragging it towards the inside of his bottom lip teasing the metallic charm with the tip of his tongue. He definitely ain’t oblivious he knows exactly what he’s doing and he makes sure that you know exactly what he’s doing.

When he’s in the mood he will tug the hem of your top meanwhile his eyes are glued to the floor or graze the temples of his glasses between his lips, his teeth lightly nibbling the pointy edge. He loves to play dumb too. When you question him, he acts like he doesn’t intend anything and that you need to get your head out of the gutter.

At the end of the session Felix looks divine. Drool leaking down from his bottom lip to his jaw line towards his neck, his bangs sticking on his sweat coated forehead, his chest rising up and down quickly. His eyes rolled at the back of his head, his hands still clutching tightly to the sheets. Faint whimpers and deep breaths filling the air.

Leading up to the after care, his shy self returns. He buries his face to your chest hiding his blushy cheeks beneath the palms of his hands.

He likes to experiment a lot and you are his favorite subject.

It shouldn’t be surprising to find random kink definitions or role-play ideas on the search history of your laptop. After all Felix just asked for it to write an email, that’s all there is to it. That’s until you offer to try them out.

He doesn’t act upon his jealousy, what he does instead is that leaving marks on you especially around your neck and your chest where he knows it will show. Don’t cover them up if you don’t wanna deal with him.

“People just don’t appreciate art anymore.” “Felix these are, hickeys.” “Oh so now you are judging my art medium ?” “Since when proving Sage that I got railed by you is a form of art ?”

I didn’t see anyone point this out but whenever he is in the sub space he tends to be more on the bratty side. He starts of shy but his confidence builds up as the tension rises. Meaning that you should be ready to get your patience tested.

When you two are in separate places your suggestive words and tone leads up to phone sex, which Felix secretly fantasized about a lot. What made everything even more dirty was the fact that you didn’t know that he was laying on your bed surrounded by your scent and humping your pillow. Once you come back home you are greeted with a fresh pair of sheets on your bed. Apparently Felix decided to do you a favor and clean your room as well as the the whole house. He’s crossing fingers that you don’t notice because he knows that he’ll never hear the end of it.

Felix knows a lot about sex but his knowledge is based upon fiction rather than experience. So, naturally, he is more interested about learning specifically how your body responds to certain actions, what you enjoy and what you’re interested in so teach him. He’s a good student and oh well he’s a quick learner.

Pull his hair pull his hair put his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair pull his hair.

When he settles between your legs as he ties his hair, he places the hairband between his lips and looks up at you with half lidded eyes. It’s his definition of torture.

Even though he doesn’t give off that vibe, he is very freaky if you would’ve known what his AO3 tags consisted of you would agree.

Tag list is open

[natromanxoff]

Record Mirror (July 14, 1979): 119/?

THE QUEEN BACKLASH ENDS HERE

WITHOUT DOUBT Queen are among that elite number of bands universally hated by the rock press.

The rancour is, make no mistake, mutual which is understandable. If you find yourself on the receiving end of an inveterate dislike at the outset of your career and watch it being nurtured and carefully cultivated over the next six years you’re bound to retaliate.

Queen’s hatred manifests itself by their continued habit of ignoring the music press i.e. refusing to give interviews. There is the occasional token “chat”, pointless as it is innocuous, but in the main it amounts to a blanket “No.”

One of the last interviews Freddie Mercury gave was the last nail in the perspex coffin. Under a headline which boldly asked ‘Is This Man A Prat?’ the king of the leotards was demolished by one of the old school Queen haters and Freddie obviously came to the conclusion, in its wake, that interviews in future would be both superfluous (he was popular enough) and detrimental.

The curtain, velvet naturally, closed.

Roger Taylor, a little wary, a little weary, sits stiffly in an armchair. The juggernauts rattling the Chelsea Street outside create a sonorous buzz bomb hum in the room.

You expect a member of Queen to look elegant. In fact Roger is only wearing a wine colour mohair jacket, black shirt and blue jeans.

He apologises for being a little late and explains how he went to the wrong address. Roger seems to be the only member of Queen left who is prepared, albeit rarely, to open his mouth in the presence of a hack. A question springs to mind . . . why?

“We all sat around a table before I flew over from Munich to discuss the press situation and we agreed I should be the one to represent the band. Freddie is very uncompromising and refuses to have much to do with journalists.

“Obviously, he’s had a few raw deals with them in the past,” observes Taylor.

Roger himself has a rather low view of the music press.

“Most of it is rubbish. There was something I liked recently, a piece on Malcolm McLaren, but in the main I think I’m the only one of Queen to actually read the music papers.”

Why does he think the band are systemically slagged?

“I think it’s because Queen have always come across as being a rather confident band. We seemed, to other people at least, to be very sure of ourselves. I think the press may have misconstrued the confidence, mistaking it for a form of arrogance. Hence they became wary of our motives which bred a dislike for our music.”

Now that’s what I call a neat conclusion.

At the risk of being sent to Coventry by my colleagues I’d like, if I may, to come clean. I love Queen (you’re fired, Ed).

I think it all began with a simple pre-packed but indisposable line – “Dynamite with a laser beam” and has continued uninterrupted (despite the occasional flaw) right through to ‘Queen Live Killers’.

A combination of reasons, Freddie Mercury’s lascivious lisp – the most attractive intonation known to man . . . Brian May’s reel ‘em off rococo riffs that would, in his capable hands, transform the theme music for ‘Waggoners’ Walk’ into a meisterwork . . . John Deacon’s almost stoic stance, incongruous yet integral . . . Roger Taylor’s intense power, so unexpected from one so slight . . . the ability to go over the top without failing into the trap of caricature . . . a desire to give the punters what they want without pandering . . . that cast iron confidence . . . those nine glorious winter weeks of ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ which kept the cold away from my soul . . .

Yes, I love Queen.

Roger explains the story behind ‘Killers’ which features just about every Queen classic which ever found its way into a silk lined memory bank.

“We always knew that one day we would make a live album. I think it was well planned. About 90 per cent of our last European tour was recorded on a mobile unit and we then spent weeks sitting through the songs in the studio.

“The result is a 100 per cent LIVE album. Nothing has been touched up in the process of selection, I think that’s pretty rare these days. Many ‘live’ albums are tampered with.”

The choice of single is unusual – ‘Love Of My Life’. “It’s not so unusual when you hear the way it came out. The song seems to have such a wide appeal. Everywhere we go the reaction to it is the same. The audience are just bursting to sing along.”

The result is Queen’s best single since ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’ (that was their LAST one crawler, ED)

As I mentioned earlier the band are currently residing in Munich where they are “experimenting” in the studio.

“We are recording in a totally different way for us,” says Roger who speaks with a delicate London accent only typical of cockneys with dramatic training and David Essex.

“Every time we entered a studio in the past we had a good idea of what we were going to do. This time we started from scratch and the result is amazing. The music is nothing like anything we’ve done before, I guess you could say it’s much simpler.”

And this novel approach to their music also extends to their shows. On their next British tour – in the late Autumn – the band will be playing much smaller venues than they are accustomed to.

“In London for example we went to play to audiences of about two or three thousand in different areas. I think it’s much fairer to the fans.”

But won’t this affect their stage show which is after all a crucial factor for any powerpomp outfit?

“Not really. We will just scale down the show accordingly. Besides,” he says taking another bite out of the biscuit, “we haven’t used dry ice in years.”

The monkey on Queen’s back, as corpulent and cantankerous as ever, has been put there by those who firmly believe the band can never emulate past achievements. Roger is cognizant of its presence but refuses to unpeel its bananas.

“That all began after ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’. When it stayed at number one all those weeks we were kindly informed that we would never be able to make another single to rival it both artistically and from the point of view of sales.

“Yet ‘We Are The Champions’ sold a great deal more and has since become the biggest selling single in the entire history of Elektra Asylum – our label in the States.

“We don’t do the amazingly complex things any more because we’ve moved on from that. We concentrate on the music we are doing now and we intend to do it the best we can, it’s ridiculous looking behind and and what you’ve done.

“There’s nothing like going back on the road to re-unite the bond between the four personalities and strengthening our belief in the band. We are a real working unit and, in my experience of the music business, one of the most democratic bands around today.”

A statement like that cries out to be expounded.

“People think every member of all the bands, not naming any names, are treated equally that is get the same money as their colleagues. That’s rubbish. In many bands there are a couple of guys that get all the money. The rest are on wages. Queen share the profits equally.”

And they don’t have a manager taking his cut either, John Reid departed a couple of years back and now the band themselves make all the major policy decisions. Why did they decide to dispense with the services of a manager?

“Basically because we were fed up with giving other people money. Y’know it never ceases to amaze me how naive those guys are in bands who have just had their first hit. After all this time I’ve forgotten just how naive we must have been at the beginning.

“I mean, everything seems so great when you get into the charts for the first time. You’re living on cloud nine and nothing else matters. But in truth that hit means absolutely nothing. So few people achieve any amount of financial success in this business.

“Oh, you think, you’re really living . . . for a while. Somebody gets you a flat in Chelsea and it’s all free. But one day the rent stops being paid for you and you realise you’re skint.

“Since John Reid has gone the four of us have always made a point of discussing everything together. We have various people working for us but all the important decisions are made by us alone. That way we get freedom of choice – and financial independence.”

My attention is suddenly diverted.

“FORTY-LOVE!” Wimbledon, the Persil White opiate for the hoi polloi squashed in a strawberry crush wrings out its perspiring petticoats on the TV in the next room.  Roger’s girlfriend, an extremely attractive French girl called Dominique, is engrossed. The couple have lived together for two years. Crippled old marriage questions permeate the air.

“I don’t believe in marriage,” says Roger. “It’s simply a contract and the fewer contracts I enter into the better. If you get on well with someone then there isn’t any harm in living with that person – but marriage is something else again.”

They live in a six bedroomed Victorian house just outside London, which is set in 20 acres. Roger has a “tiny” town house in Barnes as well. What’s it like having a bank full of money at the age of 29?

“I don’t hide away from life. Queen have never been one of those ‘being grabbed in the street’ type bands. It may happen when the four of us are together – but when we are out alone we are seldom bothered. That gives me the opportunity to enjoy myself. I go to clubs a lot. I like having a good time. I don’t think you could describe any of the band as leading sheltered lives.

“But I have completely lost touch with how much things cost. When you find yourself living in hotels for so long you never really deal in money as such. Everything is available whenever you want it – but you never see the cash actually being handed over.

“I’ve forgotten what it was like to be penniless which Queen were for years. I guess that must happen to many successful rock bands.”

Another thing that happens to many successful rock bands – they quit the country. But not Queen it appears.

“We have always based ourselves in England and I see no reason why we shouldn’t continue to do so. We could leave at any time but we choose to stay. People believe we are tax exiles because we spend a lot of the time out of the country recording in studios all over Europe and touring.”

And what will happen when the band finally trudge wearily down the road leading to that  ivory strewn elephants’ graveyard . . . ?

“I know it’s bound to happen one day. I suppose I’d take a long, long holiday . . . and then make a solo album.”

[walaw717]

Single trees are extraordinary; trees in number more remarkable still. To walk in a wood is to find fault with Socrates’s declaration that ‘Trees and open country cannot teach me anything, whereas men in town do.’ Time is kept and curated and in different ways by trees, and so it is experienced in different ways when one is among them. This discretion of trees, and their patience, are both affecting. It is beyond our capacity to comprehend that the American hardwood forest waited seventy million years for people to come and live in it, though the effort of comprehension is itself worthwhile. It is valuable and disturbing to know that grand oak trees can take three hundred years to grow, three hundred years to live, and three hundred years to die. Such knowledge, thoughtfully considered, changes the grain of the mind. - Robert Macfarlane, The Old Ways: A Journey on Foot Recently we drove to Couer d’Alene. North of town, I saw a strikingly handsome building set in a grove of old-growth trees. It was not a natural landscape, but when the building was constructed, the developer had left some ancient Douglas fir and ponderosa pine and created the impression of a long solidity in the landscape for his construction. It is rare for a builder to go to such trouble because it is simpler and more economical to clear a lot and build than to build around trees and other natural landscape elements. As we sat at the traffic light and I studied the property with its balance of trees, the stone and woodwork of the building, I wondered how the trees had experienced this construction and the loss of so many other trees in that particular stand. Two years ago, I witnessed a tree apparently doing something that I suspect I was not meant to see. Marilyn had just placed a planter full of new young plants on a deck rail, which was under the canopy of a very ancient willow. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement and turned just in time to see the willow purposely lift a frond and stroke the young plants. The action was like an arm lifting and then stroking the plants, and the movement occurred twice, lifting and returning, lifting and returning like a parent might stroke the head of a much-loved child. I have had the privilege of many odd and spiritual experiences – especially after I moved to New Mexico. Still, this particular moment in the pacific northwest haunts me as maybe the most significant spiritual moment of my life. I feel as though I saw a moment we are not privileged to see, and if we do see, it is under the influence of a mind-altering chemical like LSD, a moment when our ego is de-potentiated and no longer in control of our perceptions. I have had such experiences using LSD, but that was 50 years ago, and I doubt that I was having a flashback at this late date. Humanity suffers incredible hubris. We speak of looking to space to find intelligent life when we are actually looking for life like us. I suspect if we ever do find life like us, it will be terrifying – it will be a life driven by insularism and an attitude that cannot see us as an equal and will more than likely only see us in terms of our utility or see us in terms of something in the way, much like we see trees, wolves and everything else on this planet. We now scientifically know that trees and plants in forests have a massive communication network of mutually sustainable interactions. “In the 1960s, CIA interrogation expert Cleve Backster experimented with polygraph machines when he stumbled onto something novel. He noticed what appeared to be a change in electrical resistance with one of the plants, to which he connected the polygraph equipment whenever he removed a leaf or even “threatened” to harm the plant by intent alone. He likened this sudden electrical pulse to a “scream” emitted by the plant in response to endangerment. While Backster’s theory was considered a crackpot idea, many would follow similar, unusual observations about the behavior of plants, which seemingly represented a sort of “communication” they might be capable of.

For instance, a 1989 AP article discussed what one physicist, named Ed Wagner, believed were evidence he found of plant communication via what he called “W-waves”: Physicist Ed Wagner says he has found evidence that trees talk to each other in a language he calls W-waves. “If you chop into a tree, you can see that adjacent trees put out an electrical pulse,” said Wagner. “This indicates that they communicated directly.” Explaining the phenomenon, Wagner pointed to a blip on a strip chart recording of the electrical pulse. “It put out a tremendous cry of alarm,” he said. “The adjacent trees put out smaller ones…. People have known there was communication between trees for several years, but they’ve explained it by the chemicals trees produce,” Wagner said. “But I think the real communication is much quicker and more dramatic than that,” he said. “These trees know within a few seconds what is happening. This is an automatic response.” Wagner has measured the speed of W-waves at about 3 feet per second through the air. “They travel much too slowly for electrical waves,” he said. “They seem to be an altogether different entity. That’s what makes them so intriguing. They don’t seem to be electromagnetic waves at all.” Another physicist, William Corliss, also took an interest in Wagner’s discovery, noting that, “The voltage measured by electrodes implanted in trees goes up and down as one goes higher and higher up the trees… incidentally, electricity does seem to affect plant growth.” In more recent years, the idea of plants capable of forms of “communication” has been considered a bit more thoughtfully and is not outright shunned by the scientific community. One leading modern researcher and advocate for the varieties of ways plants communicate is Suzanne Simard, whose work with plants has helped set new precedents for how interactions between various species of flora occur. Simard’s research began to coalesce around what became a doctoral thesis two decades ago, in which she argued that a variety of communication methods were used by trees to achieve everything from expressing their needs to sharing nutrients “via a network of latticed fungi buried in the soil.” She further studied the varieties of ways that fungal filigrees were exploited by trees in ways that allowed them to send signals to other plants nearby about changes in the environment and even “helping” endangered plants by transferring and sharing nutrients with them. Speaking with “Yale Environment 360” last year, she talked about how, as she puts it, a forest “is a cooperative system,” saying: “To me, using the language of ‘communication’ made more sense because we were looking at not just resource transfers, but things like defense signaling and kin recognition signaling. We as human beings can relate to this better. If we can relate to it, then we’re going to care about it more. If we care about it more, then we’re going to do a better job of stewarding our landscapes.” Despite having communicative abilities, plants generally aren’t deemed to have any sort of intelligence. However, there are still some members of the scientific community that argue this is not necessarily the case. Author and researcher Michael Pollan, who studies the field of plant neurobiology, argues that plants are more perceptive than many would think: “They have analogous structures… They have ways of taking all the sensory data they gather in their everyday lives … integrate it, and then behave appropriately in response. And they do this without brains, which, in a way, is what’s incredible about it because we automatically assume you need a brain to process information.” Understanding how various life forms on earth communicate and cooperate with each other gives us a much broader sense of what “life on Earth” is truly about. It also challenges us to consider whether more complex interaction systems exist between organisms, including those that aren’t deemed intelligent or even responsive, by humans. In the case of plants, it seems unusual that these organisms, while deemed

to be very much alive, have long been relegated to being unresponsive and “vegetative,” in the most literal sense. Maybe it’s indeed time we start paying closer attention to our floral kindred and the subtleties of their interactions with each other and their environment.” Trees That Talk: The Bizarre World of Plant Communication Micah HanksJuly 2, 2017 As I come closer to the ending of my own span of years on this earth, I have become more acutely aware of the commonality I have with all life. Fear and suffering appear to be the same across all species, and I am beginning to wonder if love is also – not romantic love, but the deep logos love spiritual people have written about for millennia. I understand there are reasons we avoid seeing these connections and being aware of the “intelligence,” love, and fear of life around us. The Danish/Inuit Arctic explorer Kund Rassmussen once wrote, “The greatest peril of life lies in the fact that human food consists entirely of souls. All the creatures that we to kill and eat, all those that we have to strike down and destroy to make clothes for ourselves, have souls, souls that do not perish with the body and which must therefore be pacified lest they revenge themselves on us for taking away their bodies.” That is seen as a very primitive view, yet I wonder in our confusion of scientific methods for technological growth and exploitation if we are the primitives and the barbarians. I suspect our blindness to the intelligence of life here on earth, intelligence other than ourselves, is summed up in that statement. Maybe all intelligence really is is the knowledge that everything is connected and what we call intelligence is a form of narcissistic blindness. Perhaps the natural intelligence is in the willow, lifting a frond to stroke young plants that came under his/her/its protection and scope. Maybe the only innate intelligence is displayed in how we honor, respect, and care for everything. In addition to slowing me down in my interaction with the world, I find that this view brings me a sense of greater peace and a change in focus about what is and is not essential and how to express that “essentialness.” I also have greater clarity about what the ancients meant when they wrote of a fear of God. It is not a fear full of the pain of punishment – it is an awe that is hard to express and is likely to bring tears and an awareness of the pity of things and our oneness with everything.

[meow-bebe]

stellatus

Pairing: Lee Felix x artist!reader

Genre: fluffffff

Warnings: literally nothing. this is so sweet asghk we’re channeling the cute here. like honestly not even my usual cussing

Word count: 3614 (!!!)

A/n: remember that idea I posted a while ago? well heres the fic! Im suuuper proud of this one because its the longest thing ive written for this blog (3k! more than 3k! that makes me so happy ahhhh!) and also I just really love it! usually I don't particularly like my own writing but this one I feel like is my best work. also about half way through writing this I found this amazing drawing by @panini-byanyothername​ which gave me the encouragement to finish this and also deserves all of the love because its an amazing piece of art! it was drawn based on another fanfic but its super pretty and is very close to what my story is about so I thought it would be appropriate to include a link

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stēllātus; first/second-declension adjective starry, stellate, starred

“I have an idea,” you announced, bouncing with excitement as you ran into the room where Felix was currently sat at your desk on his computer. Latching your arms around Felix’s neck from behind, you rested your chin gently on his shoulder. 

“And what would that be?”he asked, spinning the office chair he sat in and successfully rotating within your arms. 

“I want to paint on you!” you said brightly as Felix’s hands came to rest on your waist as you snuggled closer, plopping down into his lap. 

“What?” Felix asked, slightly startled by your bold proposition. 

“I want to paint on you,” you repeated, “like, kind of use you as a human canvas?” It came out more as a question than a statement, and you grinned awkwardly, the incredulous tone of his voice making you shy. 

“I’m not opposed,” Felix mused, and you immediately brightened back up again. “Why though?”

“Well,” you said, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie, “first of all you’re the only person I have on hand at the moment.” You giggled, and Felix raised a hand to his chest in mock offense. “But I’ve always loved painting on skin. There’s some strange appeal that comes with turning another human being into art. Unfortunately, I’ve only ever done it on myself before, but I had this really amazing idea a while ago and have held onto it forever and you are absolutely perfect for it.” You finished by pressing a sweet kiss to his nose. “So?” you asked eagerly, “what do you say? Let me paint on you?”

Felix chuckled lightly, and you could feel the deep vibrations where your hands were set on his chest. “Aren’t you going to tell me what your amazing idea is?” 

“Nope!” you said cheerfully, popping the ‘p’ as you smiled happily, “You’ll just have to say yes and see what I do. It will be beautiful, I promise.” 

Felix playfully narrowed his eyes at you. “You won’t do something stupid or make me look weird?”

“I would never,” you said, sticking out your littlest finger, “pinky swear. And anyway, nothing could ever make you look weird, pretty boy.” Felix’s eyes widened at your compliment, a light shade of red creeping across his cheeks as he wrapped his pinky around yours. No matter how often you complimented him he always had the sweetest flustered reactions. 

“What are we waiting for then?” you practically vaulted out of his lap, tangling your fingers together and tugging on his hand to try and get him to follow you. 

“What, now?” he asked, a bewildered look on his face.

“Yes, now,” you said, pulling on his hand again, “I can’t wait any longer, I’m dying to finally do this.”

“Alright,” Felix said, laughing as he stood up from the desk, whatever he was working on earlier abandoned as you enthusiastically pulled him along to the spare bedroom turned art studio. 

“Here,” you said, tossing one of the already paint-stained cushions you often put to use out of the closet, “sit down while I find what I need.” 

Felix grabbed the cushion and set it on the large, clear plastic mat you always kept set out over the hardwood floors. There were several places you had set up for painting, laying on the floor and the easel by the window being two of your favorites, and you rotated between them depending on how you were feeling that day. It seemed like today was a sprawled across the floor day, although that made sense, Felix reasoned, if you were going to be painting on him. He sat down and watched as you zipped back and forth across the room, picking through your jars of brushes and bins of paints to find the supplies you would be using. 

Thrusting one of the mason jar mugs you used to wash out your brushes at Felix, you asked, “Could you go fill this up with water for me?” He nodded compliantly, pulling himself up off the floor and traipsing across the hall to the bathroom to fill the glass mug with water. When he came back into the room, you had set up a jar of brushes to pick through, tossed a few tubes of paint to the floor next to the two cushions, and were currently spread across a decent portion of the floor with one of the large folders you had labeled as “inspiration and references.” These were collections of anything you could possibly want to give you ideas or utilize in your art, ranging from newspaper clippings, old photographs, passages from books and poems scrawled on torn notebook paper (or on the more rare occasion, printed out), and absolutely filled to the brim with doodles and practice drawings. You were a firm believer in the idea that anything could be reused or help inspire you in the future, which ultimately lead to your large collection. Usually you tried to date the bits of paper you tucked away, but it didn’t help with your chronic lack of organization. 

“What are you searching for?” Felix questioned, assuming that you wouldn’t answer but asking anyway. 

“Can’t tell,” you said, eyes twinkling with a spark of mischief, “it’s supposed to be a surprise, remember?” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop asking. What do you want me to do then?” he asked, looking around the room and wondering what you had planned for him. 

“Just sit, I’ll find it in a moment.” Felix settled himself back down on the floor as you continued to rifle through the folder barely containing the papers inside it. He watched as you carefully separated a few glossy photos that had stuck together and shuffled through a stack of what appeared to be old school work. “Aha!” you shouted victoriously, startling Felix and holding a few taped together pieces of paper in the air. 

“What’s that?” he asked, his curiosity over both the project itself and the haphazardly folded but carefully assembled papers in your grasp too much to handle. 

To his surprise, you gave in this time. “Star chart!” you chirped, obviously too pleased with yourself to continue hiding your intentions. “I’ve always loved space, specifically stars, and I took an astronomy class in high school but never got rid of the papers that weren’t just worksheets. I always hoped that someday I would be able to use them for painting. And here we are!” Felix smiled at the happy grin lighting up your whole face, your excitement too endearing to not acknowledge. 

“Cute.” Felix grinned happily as you shuffled over to where you had set up all of your supplies. All of a sudden his smile turned bashful, stammering slightly as he asked, “Should I like, take my shirt off or something then?” 

You giggled, setting down the star chart and plucking a thin marker from amongst the plethora of materials. “Not this time. I want to do your face!” 

“What?” Felix gasped, eyes widened in surprise. 

“I want to paint on your face!” you repeated, excitement fading as you rolled the marker between your hands, suddenly nervous. “Your freckles, specifically. Only if you’ll let me though.” You fidgeted slightly, focused on the marker before looking up at Felix who still wore a slightly startled expression. 

“My - my freckles?” he asked, and you nodded. 

“Yeah. Finding patterns that match my constellations-” you patted the papers sitting beside you - “and then turning your face into a little galaxy.” 

“Y/n,” he said softly, and you braced yourself to be turned down, “I think that’s the most amazing thing you’ve ever come up with. Why would I ever say no?” 

Your eyes shot up to find Felix’s, and you could see all of the adoration that he held for you in their depths. “Really?” you asked, pulling yourself into his lap and tucking your arms around his waist.

“Really,” he confirmed, sealing a gentle kiss against your mouth. “Now, how do you want to go about this?” 

You clamored off of Felix, grabbing the marker from where you had dropped it at his side and snatching the star chart into your hands before thrusting it at Felix. “Pick a few that you like, and I’ll see if what I can do to weave them out of your freckles,” you said, placing the folded chart into his hands and backing off to begin rifling through the paint tubes you had chosen. “Try not to do anything too difficult, I think the simpler ones would look better for this.” 

Leaving him to pour over the constellations, you realized that you had overlooked finding a palette earlier in your scramble to find paints, so you pulled yourself up off the floor to move to the closet once again. Shoving a few bins of paints and stacks of assorted canvases to the side, you finally found the collection of palettes stored near the back of the shelf. Just barely managing to get your finger under the one on the bottom (the shelf was slightly too high, not enough to really bother you, but it could be a minor inconvenience sometimes), you dragged the precariously balanced stack towards yourself. 

“What about Lyra?” Felix called from behind you. 

“That would work,” you mused, shuffling through the pile in search of one not too caked in dried paint. 

“Or Aquila?”

“Also fine,” you responded, selecting a mostly clean palette. “I really want to try Draco, so we’ll do that one first and then fit the others on after that. Sound good?” 

"Anything you want to do is good with me," he replied, and you turned to see the pretty blush staining his cheeks.

"But you're the one making this project come to life," you said, crossing the room in a few steps and settling down in front of him. "You should have some input."

"I'm merely the final product in this situation. You, y/n, are the one bringing it to life." Now it was your turn to grow flustered by his compliments. 

"Oh hush," you said, searching on the floor for the marker you had set down.

Finding your marker, you uncapped it and scooted closer to Felix. "Ready?" you asked.

He looked at the marker warily. "I thought you were painting."

"I am painting, but I have to sketch it out first," you laughed. "I always do."

"Oh," he said, looking down shyly. He always loved to watch you paint, however paying attention to the process was something else entirely. "Well go on then."

Studying his face carefully, you placed a small dot on top of a freckle close to the top of his cheek. Glancing back at the star chart, you drew another right under it, and awkwardly angled your pen to try and reach better. Pulling the papers mapping out your reference closer, you shuffled to the side and drew another dot.

"This isn't working very well," you said, taking Felix's chin in your hand and tilting his head to the side to try and reach better. "I might move you again, so try not to move and tell me if it's too uncomfortable."

Felix nodded in response just as you set the tip of the marker against his cheek, leaving a small inky streak down his face. You sighed. "Next time just say you heard me. I'm going to get the rubbing alcohol.” You stood up and headed to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and rummaging around to find the necessary bottle. Finding what you needed, you stood up and crossed the hallway once again to rejoin Felix.

"Here." Felix held out a cotton ball that he had no doubt found in the depths of one of your many bins of random art supplies.

"Thanks," you said quietly, already flipping the top of the rubbing alcohol open and soaking the cotton in liquid before scrubbing it gently across Felix's cheek. He held still for the moment, letting you remove the ink from his face and watching your movements carefully.

"Done?" he asked as you tossed the now somewhat grey cotton ball to the floor.

"Yep." you picked up your marker again. "Good to go?" He nodded again, this time making sure that the marker was nowhere near his skin.

You set back to work, switching between analyzing the star chart and making small dots where you could connect the freckles strewn across Felix's face to resemble the constellation you had picked.

After readjusting Felix's face for the nth time, you sighed. “This isn’t working,” you complained, capping your marker and letting your hand fall into your lap. 

“I can tell,” Felix mused. “Any ideas?”

You tilted your head, scanning over his face, and Felix could see the imaginary lightbulb pop up above your head as a grin spread across your face. “Maybe,” you said cheekily, crawling into his lap and once again uncapping your marker. Placing the non inky end into your mouth, you cupped your hands around Felix’s cheeks, gently moving his head around until you think you’ve found the perfect angle. “Don’t move.” 

Finding that your new vantage point gave you perfect access to the soft skin of your boyfriend’s cheeks, you steadily set back to work, sketching light lines between the makeshift “stars” that quickly began to fill the freckles dotted across Felix’s face. 

“Alright! I’m all done.” You leaned back a bit to admire your work, already extremely happy with the way that everything was turning out. “And now -” you clambered off Felix’s lap to let him stretch while you gathered the scattered supplies necessary for the next step of your project - “we paint!” 

Felix giggled at the enthusiasm spreading a happy brightness across your face, bringing you closer for a chaste kiss as soon as you had settled yourself back across him. Clasping the brush you had picked up between your teeth as you seemed prone to do, you grabbed two of the few tubes of paint selected from a small box of metallics Felix wasn’t aware you had and unscrewed the one containing silver paint. Squeezing a small amount onto the palette in your other hand, you replaced the cap and set it to the side. 

You pulled the paintbrush from your mouth, and said, “This is it. No going back after I start painting,” you warned, absolutely failing to hide the playful tone in your voice. 

“I have sharpie all over my face,” Felix laughed, “I’m pretty sure we reached that point a while ago.” 

“Right,” you said, ducking your face a little, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. “Well then, let the painting begin!” Placing a sweet kiss to the tip of Felix’s nose, you swirled your brush through the silver paint and hesitantly hovered over the inked lines connecting his freckles. 

“You’re not going to mess this up,” Felix reassured, almost as if he could immediately pick up on your thoughts, “anything you paint is always beautiful and I have complete confidence in you.” 

The compliments flustered you even more, and muttering a soft, “Oh, be quiet,” you set your brush down, dragging the bristles across the lines you had laid down earlier. 

Felix shuddered under the cool touch of paint stroked across his face, and you backed off for a moment, letting him adjust to the foreign feeling. “Try not to move,” you said, setting down your palette and cupping his jaw sweetly. 

You painted thin, careful lines over all of the drawn out constellations, painstakingly smoothing the edges and adding a second layer to those where the black ink was still visible. While you kept all of your focus on the paintbrush in your hand, Felix lost himself in the way that you concentrated on the task you had set yourself to. He loved to watch you paint, and the experience was ten times better when you were right up close. Felix watched your expressions as you immersed yourself in your work, noticing every little forehead scrunch, loving the cute way that you would chew on your lip or poke your tongue out when you got to a particularly tricky spot. There wasn’t enough focus left to be self conscious when you truly absorbed yourself in your art, and it was times like these that Felix thought you were most true to yourself, which lead to it also being when he found you most beautiful. Not that you weren’t other times, certainly, but there was something enchanting about your little expressions and the way your hair would stick up from running your fingers through it. You would always have paint all over your hands, no matter how careful you had been, and when it was still wet the pigment often transferred to your face or hair. Of course you never noticed, and so Felix would let you know you should probably look in a mirror, but only after silently appreciating the way that the smudged paint on your forehead somehow only enhanced the glow of beauty that truly being in your element brought out.

“There we go!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Felix out of his reverie. “I’m finished with the lines,” you told him, dropping your paintbrush into the cup of water and swishing it around a little. “Now I just have to do the stars.”

You leaned to the side and reached around Felix to grab the other tube of paint you had taken out and added some of the gold to the palette before screwing the cap back on and tossing it next to you. Balancing the palette on your knee, you grabbed the cup containing your brush and dragged it toward you. Quickly and thoroughly rinsing the paint from the bristles, you wiped off the excess water and took Felix’s face into your hand once again, gently maneuvering him back into a position where you could easily paint. 

Now used to the feeling, Felix didn’t startle when you began painting again, the cool touch of the paint to his cheek calming. You worked steadily, crossing tiny strokes to form the stars connecting the constellations created by his freckles. Every now and then you would shift in his lap, or make sure that the angle his head was at wasn’t making his neck ache, but for the most part you worked silent and still. 

You smoothed tiny lines into shapes, keeping them tidy and occasionally layering more paint on where it had smudged or the first coat had been too thin. After finishing one of the stars higher on his cheek, you leaned back to admire your work. 

“I think I’m done,” you said softly, wiping a bit of golden paint off Felix’s forehead. 

“Can I see?” he asked, plucking the paint brush out of your fingers and placing it in the paint water. 

You nodded, climbing out of his lap and gesturing towards the messy desk in the corner of the room. “There should be a mirror up there. I’m going to go get my Polaroid camera.” You loved that camera, it had been a gift from a friend years ago, and you only pulled it out for special occasions. Felix knew how much it meant to you, and the fact that you wanted to capture this moment with it warmed his heart. 

When you returned to the room, Felix was sitting back on the cushions you had pulled out, the small hand mirror next to him on the floor. “It’s beautiful, y/n,” he said, and you smiled at the compliment, whispering a quiet “Thanks.” 

“Where do you want me?” Felix asked, nodding towards the camera in your hands. 

“By the window, probably,” you said, “I think backlighting would look good for this.” It was reaching late afternoon now, and the sun was beginning to sink to the horizon quickly. The golden light would shine through his hair beautifully, and Felix always glowed in the sunlight. 

The two of you moved to the other side of the room, and Felix quickly set himself up in front of the window. 

“Should I pose or something?” Felix asked, and you shook your head in response. 

“Just do what feels natural,” you said, squinting at him through the viewfinder on your Polaroid before lowering it to watch him adjust for the photo. He seemed to relax under your gaze, and turned his head to the side so he was looking straight into the lens as the light washed over the paint trailed across his face, illuminating the shine of the metallics you used. He stilled after a moment, and after you were sure he wasn’t going to move, you pressed the shutter. The camera began printing your photo, and after a moment you plucked it from the slot, pressing it between your lips and bringing the camera back up to your eye. 

“I want to take one more,” you mumbled around the developing photo in your mouth, “close your eyes for me?” Felix complied, letting his lashes flutter against the top of his cheeks as a small smile settled across his face. You snapped your second photo, bringing the camera down and tucking the earlier in between your fingers as you waited for the second to print. Felix came to stand next to you, taking the second photo and looking over your shoulder to see how the first one turned out. 

As you watched the color seep onto the glossy paper you knew that the stars across his cheeks, no matter how pretty they were, could never compare to the stars that shone in his eyes. He was truly beautiful, and standing there with your camera in hand, his hair brushing against your cheek, you were never more aware.

[angstymarshmallow]

unquiet - (tyril x mc)

[a little note: hey I wrote another thing. If I look at this anymore I won’t post it so if anyone’s in the mood for a little tyril - here you go!]

[words counted: 2566]

He takes subtle glances, often at the corner of her eyes when he thinks she doesn’t notice. But it’s hard not to notice, and Ash merely pretends otherwise. It’s better this way – pretending, at least until she gathers enough courage to take the next step – to be more than whatever this is between them.

This thing that has no name – no face, but it’s still complex. Still new. It isn’t just his enchanting elven features; the way his fine cheeks darken at even the slightest jab or the way he scratches the back of his neck bashfully which begs for her attention. It isn’t just his sarcasm either, or his sense of humor to things he deems most obvious. It’s the very breath he takes. The very fleeting moments when he smiles, and she can almost taste his happiness. And like the sun, all she wants to be is near it when it’s here.

Ash keeps all these unspoken feelings in check as they trudge deeper into Deadwood. She can’t indulge these kinds of thoughts despite them being alone. A quiet walk was meant to clear her head – not make things worse.

And up until now, Ash has never felt quite so tongue-tied around another person.

Usually, there’s at least some remark to be made when he speaks greatly about traditions and his sworn oath to stop the Shadow Court. But today, she’s at a loss when there’s nothing to poke fun at. There’s nothing for her to fill the silence with other than the overwhelming urge to look at him.

Steeling her nerves, Ash does exactly that. Just for a moment she allows her eyes to drift upwards to the smooth planes of his face and ignores the strange flutter inside her chest once he catches her stare. Oh god can he tell what she’s thinking?

Another second passes as his eyes drop to her lips. It was only just a second though and Ash wonders if she’s imagining things from his haste to break eye contact.

“Is something the matter?”

“No,” Ash says a little too quickly as he peers back at her.

There’s something about those bright somber eyes that makes it hard for her to look away.

She tries to play it off with a smile, letting her lips do all the work for her.  “I’ve been spending too much time with you, brooding is not a good look on me.”

How many hours have they spent together anyway? How many hours have they spent by the fire or underneath the telltale path charted to the stars? Ash couldn’t tell. Somehow, time always blur together. An hour barely distinguishable by another behind closed doors – pressed up against one another before their lips danced a dangerous game until the next impromptu opportunity presented itself.

The sound of his laugh draws Ash back to the present.

He’s even got the slightest hint of a smirk as he clears his throat.                  Maybe he’s thinking about her lips too?

“We can’t have that.” Tyril teases. “I think I do enough brooding for everyone.” He folds his arms, his fine features turning dead pan.

Oh. He’s most definitely not thinking about kissing her.

“But someone has to. The kind of things we’re going up against – calls for it.” He reminds her, lips showcasing his disapproval with a slight frown.

Of course, The Shadow Court. When doesn’t Tyril talk about The Shadow Court? It’s probably the last thing he thinks about when he falls asleep. Though apart of Ash knows he’s right. There really isn’t any time for distractions – and yet she can’t help but stare at his lips every so often.

“No losses yet.” Except for Kade. She pushes away the thought just as quickly as it appears. Kade isn’t gone. And she’s going to get him out of that stupid shard.

“I’m starting to believe nothing is impossible anymore for us.” Ash has to anyway, the alternative isn’t going to cut it.

A haunted look passes before Tyril glances away.

Sometimes he looks a lot older, worn out by things outside his control. But maybe that’s the burden of responsibility. The weight of ridding the world of evil that most people wouldn’t dare to. And it’s not her place to judge.  but wouldn’t it be easier, sharing some of that burden?

“Spoken like someone who hasn’t seen enough of their devastation. Back in the market – ” his gaze drifts to her, bright eyes hardening. “That’s nothing compared to what I’ve seen, to what I’ve witnessed firsthand.”

His voice grows more bitter with each word and all Ash can think of is how much she wants to take her misplaced comment back.  She doesn’t want a fight. She only wants him to smile a little more. “I’m sorry, I –” She stops short of almost bumping into him. “I didn’t mean to make light of our situation. It’s just…” She trails off for a moment, running a hand through her pale hair. “This is all still new to me. I’m far from home, living life on the road, with people unlike anyone I’ve ever met – fighting monsters for the good of the world.” She says wistfully, “this is the stuff legends are made of.”

A corner of his lips twitch but otherwise Tyril’s expression remains impassive. “You make it sound so glamourous.”

“It is glamourous. Wonderful even.” Her brow creases. “And terrifying. Deadly.” They could all die tomorrow if they aren’t even careful. Or the next day after that. Or the next full moon from now. But Ash has to believe it means something; it has to all mean something.

“Good.” Tyril’s terse answer breaks her concentration. “It’s good be scared. There are lots of scary things out there – with or without the Shadow Court.” Then he pauses, as if measuring every word. “There is no denying there have been some…pleasurable moments together,” his eyes drift back and linger.

Ash’s heart skips a beat. He is thinking about us!

She doesn’t know whether to retort or let the comment slide, but Tyril makes up his mind first.  “But let us not forget what’s at stake. Let’s not forget why we’re all still together.”

The still stings a little. She hides it behind a half-shrug. “Maybe, maybe not.” Maybe she’d have left the village anyway – maybe she’d wander the world in search of something more. But deep down, was he right? Without The Shadow Court – what else binds them together?

When she can’t find an answer to the question, Ash focuses on what has changed. Knowing more about the world has changed her. Changed her perception of what the world is like. She’s used to dreams of coin flowing through her pockets and Kade’s winsome smile. But now it’s like a veil has been yanked free, and Ash finds herself reeling with unbridled passion for more. For more adventures. For more sight-seeing. For more, everything.

She wants to know more despite the danger that comes along with it.

Sneaking another glance at Tyril, Ash can’t help but think if he would be different too. If life hadn’t thrusted them into each other’s paths, if Tyril had never been on some hunt for revenge – could they have met under different circumstances? The trouble is he’s often so serious, so self-righteous – so different from her in a lot of ways possible, that perhaps if she’d grown up like...an elf she’d understand better.

Perhaps they wouldn’t have met at all, and that is a much sadder thought.

Lapsed into silence again, Ash leads them towards a forest clearing they spotted on last night’s scouting. The view is as pretty as she remembers; the mystical lake looks just as beautiful as it did yesterday, and Ash is itching to get closer.

The lake shimmers and sparkles, enticing Ash long enough for her to make up her mind.

Don’t second guess it. Just do it.

Without speaking, the woman starts shimmying out of her clothes. One layer at a time goes slack as she unbuttons before she kicks the garments away. She catches Tyril’s half-open stare as his eyes fill with mild surprise and then a splotch of dark blue. “W-What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” She retorts back, turning away from him. She gives him ample view of her long legs and back as she yanks her tunic above her head.

“It…looks like you’re trying to give me a heart attack.”

Ash holds her tongue, muffling her laugh. “If I wanted to give you a heart attack Tyril, there are much simpler ways to do so.” But none of which would have ever been as satisfying as this. “I didn’t swim a lot as a child. Riverbend wasn’t known for its river despite its name. And I’m not letting go of another chance.”

Her hands pause before she decides on keeping her under garments. She peers at him from over her shoulder when he doesn’t budge. “Are you going to keep gawking or are you going to join me?”

He stiffens. “I do not gawk.”

“Gawk – stare, what’s the difference really?”

“Well for one,” he gestures to the lake dubiously. “Despite how beautiful it looks, it’s also rather cold.”

Ash dips her toes in the water first, the cold forces her body to shudder before she releases a soft sigh. It is cold – but not too cold despite how late in the evening it is. “The water is fine, quit worrying.” Slowly she wades further in, letting out a hum when she’s nearly submerged completely. The water lightly laps against her back as she whirls around watching in mild amusement as Tyril clumsily tries to rid himself of his armor while grumbling under his breath.

“This is completely ridiculous.” He gently sets his armor some distance away. His cheeks are still flushed as he approaches the water, watching balefully for a moment before taking one step and then another.  “It is cold.” His tone is accusatory, but his eyes remain soft.

Ash laughs, “sorry, I knew if I told you – you wouldn’t have agreed.” With a small splash, she spread her arms wide. “But isn’t it amazing?” She can scarcely believe it herself; everything about it was magical. It had to be the only place in Deadwood that doesn’t feel like death.

Tyril murmurs in agreement before waddling closer.

He’s almost close enough to touch and Ash swallows. Water guides them a little closer. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.” He confesses, eyes drawn to her face. A small rivulet of water drips down his broad chest and her eyes follow the motion.

“I think…we both needed this.” She says slowly. “We’ve been running ourselves thin for days.” Just thinking about their latest escape makes her almost wince. The last time they almost cross the line between life and death. A line that’s starting to be moved too often.

Ash squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, focusing on the cool air across her skin. She allows it be her focus. Besides if she stares at Tyril any longer, she’s not sure she’ll be able to keep her hands off him.

His scent is everywhere.

“I’m…never really at rest.”

His confession startles her. Ash’s eyes fly back open only to find Tyril watching. “There’s too many bad things to dream about.” He says softly, then his features twist and Ash is afraid he’ll shut her out. “It’s worse when everything is so…quiet.”

“..Quiet?” She prompts gently. She doesn’t want to push but Ash can spot the subtle shift in his posture, the slight crease in his brow to recognize how deeply this affects him.

The problem is Tyril isn’t used to sharing. He isn’t used to giving up pieces of himself to anyone. He’s told her more plenty times that he doesn’t do friendship. He doesn’t do companionship. He’s used to being on his own.

When he doesn’t answer, Ash wavers. Then just as quickly, she lets go of her own uncertainty. This won’t stop her from extending an olive branch to him. It doesn’t stop her from cupping his cheeks and willing him to look back at her even though apart of her realizes she’s crossing a line.

“Then we’ll make it unquiet.” She utters gently. “We’ll make it so loud that those bad dreams won’t stand a chance.” She vows fiercely.

A small smile flashes but swiftly recedes back into a slight frown of disapproval. “It’s kind of you to offer but –”

She interrupts without missing a beat, “if you’re having bad dreams Tyril, I want to know.” The water is still cold, and she swears she doesn’t feel the drop in temperature anymore as his hands gently rest by her waist. “I want to more than know. I want to be the person you wake in the middle of the night and tell them to.” I want to be the person that holds you after the nightmare is all over.

Maybe it’s selfish of her, maybe she doesn’t have the right to make these kind of promises but that won’t stop her from trying. If she can help it, she’d do anything to see his smile. It is a quiet realization that only dawns on her while they’re alone. Maybe she’s been afraid to place a name on this because she’s never wanted to chase someone’s bad dreams away before.

Bright blue eyes that are usually carefully hidden behind a wall of ice are not tonight. Those polar arctic eyes are melting, breaking apart right in front of her. “There’s no need to burden yourself with my problems.” His protest is fleeting, a weak attempt to push her away but his eyes say the opposite.

They say thank you.

They aren’t hard to read. They are open and vulnerable, and Ash wants nothing more than to reassure them. To reassure him. So, she does in subtle gestures at first. Touching his wrist, and then splaying hands across his chest. Letting her fingers trail a pattern to his cheeks before cupping them again. Until finally she brings her lips to his, waiting with bated breath for his eyes to flutter close.

And when they finally do flutter close, she kisses him soundly. She slides her fingers through his silky hair and takes her time to thoroughly explore his mouth, to thoroughly explore him. She’ll give him good dreams tonight. She’ll make this unquiet. She’ll fill the space where the nightmares are supposed to be.

Tyril moans low in his throat. He catches her lower lip between his teeth as his hands glide higher and higher – encasing her within his strong arms. His lips turn soft, and insistent. They reciprocate every time their lips meet, every time her hands fold into his hair and she pulls.

Ash feels his slight tremble, hears his admission of pleasure again across this starry night echo into the depths of her heart. There’s no more room left between them – only skin against skin and the faint reminder of clear water submerging their lower half as Tyril presses himself intimately closer.

She doesn’t know how much time passes while she remains locked inside his tight embrace but eventually, they break apart. Eventually, the real world starts to bleed back in.

His dilated pupils disappear from view when he nuzzles his forehead against hers, still not quite letting go of her. Still not ready to face the present. “I will remember that the next time I have a bad dream.” He whispers the words, sealing his vow with another tender kiss.

-

[sebeth]

Giant-Size X-Men

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

 Extra Spoiler Warning for the Deadly Genesis miniseries and Wolverine: Origins

  Giant-Size X-Men #1, “Second Genesis, ” by Len Wein and Dave Cockrum.

Winzeldorf, Germany – Kurt Wagner flees from a mob of crazed villagers.

“Perhaps things would be simpler – safer – if I had stayed with Der Jahrmarkt but the life of a carnival freak is not for me – not for Kurt Wagner!  Let them come if they must – let them try to kill me!  At least if I die, it will be as a man!”

The villagers overwhelm Kurt.  Kurt is able to teleport so I’m not sure why he wasn’t able to escape the villagers.  Perhaps he exhausted himself from earlier teleportations? Didn’t Kurt have around a mile-range with teleportation jumps in the early days? That should have given Kurt quite the head-start in the chase. You would have to be very determined to chase – on foot - an individual that has that much of a lead.

Why was Kurt wandering the town in his circus outfit? Wouldn’t civilian clothes be more inconspicuous?

“I only came among them to learn yet all I’ve learned thus far are the ways of blind, unreasoning violence!”

Was Kurt testing humanity’s reaction to his appearance? If so, the townspeople failed.

Kurt dives into the crowd and brawls with everyone – which quickly turns against him.

The crowd freezes right before they stake Kurt.  Enter Charles Xavier: “You are a mutant, Kurt. I can help you find your true potential.”

“Can you help me be normal?”

“After tonight’s misfortune, Kurt – would you truly want to be?”

“Perhaps not.  I only want to be a whole Kurt Wagner!  If you can make me that, teacher…I will go with you.”

It’s easy for the Professor to dismiss “being normal”, it’s not so easy if you have blue skin, pointed ears, fangs, glowing yellow eyes, a tail, and three fingers per hand.  

I had “Savages” from Pocahontas and “March of the Witch-Hunters” from Wicked going through my head as I read this scene.

Quebec, Canada: Wolverine meets with Charles Xavier at a secluded military installation.  Xavier informs Wolverine that he “has a need of mutants – a desperate need!”  Wolverine jumps at the chance to “get out from under the red tape and rigmarole”.  

A military-official objects to Wolverine’s resignation: “The government has invested a great deal of time and money turning you into what you are now...you haven’t heard the last of this!”

Foreshadowing!

Nashville, Tennessee: The Professor recruits Sean Cassidy, the Banshee, to the X-Men.

Can’t a man watch the Grand Ol’ Opry in peace?

Sean comments “Twill be nice to tread the straight and narrow for a change.” A reference to Banshee’s time in Factor Three. At least I think I’m remembering the group’s name correctly.

Kenya, East Africa: Villagers entreat “Ororo, Great Goddess of the Storm, come unto us and ease our burden!”

“I am here, my children. What do you wish of me?”

The villagers offer to sacrifice goats and chickens if she ends the drought and brings rain.  Storm agrees to do “as they plead”.

Cue a rainstorm.

Xavier congratulates Ororo on her beautiful display.

“Wh – Who are you? What business have you in Ororo’s land…an…offer?  What have you to offer a goddess?”

Ororo agrees to leave with the Professor after he offers her “the world”

Ororo’s debut isn’t very flattering to her character.  The arrogance is off the charts.  Ororo knows she isn’t a goddess – she’s an orphaned street rat – but she’s referring to villagers much older than her as children and claiming the territory as “Ororo’s land”.  Why do the villagers have to approach her to end the drought – if she’s acting as a caretaker she should have produced rain before it reached drought levels – instead it appears that she’s on an egotistical power trip.   To top it off, Ororo ditches “her land” as soon as she’s offered a better deal!  No wonder Dr. Doom’s attracted to Storm!

Osaka, Japan:  The Professor recruits Sunfire to the X-Men.

Lake Baikal, Siberia: Peter Rasputin rescues his unnamed sister (Illayna) from a runaway tractor.  Xavier would like Peter to come to America.  Peter asks his parents what he should do.  Peter’s father responds:  “Do as your heart tells you, my son.  It will not betray you…Dosvidanya, Peter.  Our love goes with you… We are already proud of you.”

The Extraordinary X-Men series has a scene where Illanya reminds Peter that their father made him sleep in the barn like an animal.  It never rang true to me.  Granted, the Rasputin parents don’t have much onscreen time but it didn’t seem true to their characters.  Peter’s debut scene clearly shows the love the Rasputins have for their son – he definitely wasn’t sleeping in the barn.  Peter also transforms in front of the village and no one even batted an eye – so I’m throwing the Extraordinary X-Men scene out of canon!

Giant-Sized X-Men #1 was published in the midst of the Cold War/Red Scare – it was rather gutsy to make one of the new characters a Russian hero – and one that didn’t have to do a heel/face turn or redeem himself from his Communist leanings.

Camp Verde, Arizona: “John Proudstar does not like the reservation.  He does not like to watch the old ones, sitting slumped against their doorsteps, dreaming dreams of glory long gone.  John Proudstar is an Apache – and he is ashamed of his people.”

John chases down a bull and wrestles it to the ground:  “There, horned one – do you see?  There is still a man among the Apache!”

Yeah, take that, poor bull!

Xavier approaches John to join the X-men.  John’s not impressed: “You’ve got five seconds to vamoose, white-eyes…The white man needs me?  That’s tough! I owe him nothing but the grief he’s given my people!”

Xavier implies John’s a coward causing John to change his mind and join the team.

John Proudstar isn’t a likable character.  Unfortunately, John’s never allowed to develop past the angry young man/proud warrior stereotype.

Charles muses to himself: “But will you – will any of you X-Men be equal to the task that lies before you?  Or will you carry the world down into ruin?”

Let’s talk Deadly Genesis.  The mini-series retconned the events of Second Genesis.  We discover Professor Xavier launched a rescue operation before he assembled the members of the Giant-Sized X-Men team.  The team consisted of four foster children of Moira MacTaggert:  Vulcan, Darwin, Petra, and Sway.  

The four were total newbies whose only training consisted of psychic training by Professor Xavier. The four believed they had trained for months for this rescue mission but had only received hours of training. The four manage to rescue Cyclops, put him on the jet, and send him back to Westchester.  The four attempts to rescue the others but are annihilated. Scott witnesses the massacre from the jet.  Xavier erases the memory of the rescue attempt from Scott’s mind – along with the fact that Vulcan is his younger brother.

Some don’t like the Deadly Genesis revelations as they are not flattering to the Professor.  Let’s be honest, the Professor was never a great man. In the original run, he had creepy thoughts about Jean (his underage student) and faked his death to his students. No, having Changeling replace him during his “death” doesn’t make it better.  Not to mention all the times he bailed on his “life’s mission”.

If we include the events of Deadly Genesis, the Professor responds the massacre of newbies by composing a team that’s mainly newbies!  Clearly, Xavier’s intelligence is overrated.

Let’s check the members’ resumes:

Kurt: Performs in a circus, runs from villagers

Peter: Farms

John: Chases bulls, whines

Ororo: Lounges in a chair, accepts villager’s offerings, makes rain storms

Sunfire has very limited experience.

Banshee and Wolverine are well-trained and very experienced. I’m not sure if Xavier is aware of the depth of Logan’s experience – to be fair, neither is Logan at this point.

Wolverine and Banshee are the only logical selections to send after the captured X-Men.  The original team had more powerful members – Cyclops, Jean Grey, Iceman, Havok, Polaris – and were captured.  I don’t know how the Professor expects this team to do better.  Did it never occur to Xavier to call the Avengers or Fantastic Four and see if they could help?

Back to Giant-Sized X-Men:

Westchester, New York:

The team assembles at the school.  Peter and Ororo love their costumes.  It’s implied Professor X designed the costumes.  I wonder if Peter ever wondered why his costume didn’t have material on the sides of his chest/abdomen.  Ororo should have many questions about her costume – for starters, why am I half-naked and the rest of the men are fully clothed – or 75% clothed in Peter’s case? And why are Peter’s boots mid-thigh length?  Peter will be a brawler – I can’t imagine that would be comfortable to run in.  And what’s with the pointed shoulder pads – to stab someone in the eye?

Did John Proudstar add the feathered headband to his costume as a sign of his heritage?  Did Professor X throw it in?  Would John resent it as a stereotype or appreciate the nod to his culture?

For the record, Dave Cockrum is one of my favorite artists and few can top his character designs.  Storm’s original costume and the Imperial Guard designs are a few of my favorite Cockrum designs.

Professor Xavier introduces the group to Cyclops.  Scott recaps the events that led to the recruitment drive:  Professor Xavier detects a new mutant presence on the island of Krakoa in the South Pacific.  Cyclops, Marvel Girl, Iceman, Angel, Polaris, and Havok travel to the island. It’s mentioned that Beast isn’t available for this mission – this is around the time he was working for the Brand Corporation.  The group lands on Krakoa but are ambushed.  Scott regains consciousness, realizes he’s unable to fire his optic blasts, and retreats to the mansion.  Scott’s powers return at the mansion but with increased intensity.

Did Scott retain his power up?  Or was this forgotten and never mentioned again.  Did the other imprisoned X-men receive power-ups?  If not, why was Scott the only one?

Sunfire decides he doesn’t wants to be part of the rescue mission: “I do not even like my fellow mutants! I certainly will not risk my life to help them!”

I’m sure the feelings mutual.  However, Sunfire changes his mind and rejoins the group mid-flight.

We discover in Wolverine: Origins, Logan attempted to leave the team. In fact, he had only joined under Romulus’s orders. However, Xavier performed some mind-magic and changed Logan’s mind.

Is the Professor also behind Sunfire’s mood swings? Or behind Storm’s sudden decision to leave “her land”?

While not flattering for the Professor, it would actually be better for Ororo. Otherwise, her exit from Africa reads as “screw this, I’ve found something better and shinier.” Not very Goddess-like.

The X-Men arrive at the island.  Scott splits the group into pairs: Cyclops/Thunderbird, Sunfire/Nightcrawler, Storm/Colossus, and Banshee/Wolverine.  Sunfire objects to pairing up with Nightcrawler.  Wolverine complains about Banshee’s sonic powers. Enhanced hearing has many drawbacks! Peter leaps out of the airplane causing Storm to panic: “You fool, you cannot fly!”  Peter responds “Of course not, but I can land with the best of them!”

Scott gets the brunt of Proudstar’s attitude: “Yes sir, General One-Eye Sir!  I just hope you’re not leading me into another Little Big Horn! It’d be just my luck to be the first Indian massacred by….”

Can we nominate Scott for sainthood?  He had to deal with Wolverine, Thunderbird, and Sunfire and didn’t kill any of them.

Scott and Proudstar find a temple as do Storm and Colossus.  

“John Proudstar has never much liked the jungle”.

One small line but it merits mention. Is John’s dislike of the jungle a personality quirk or does he have an actual reason? Giant-Size X-Men was published in 1975 – the same year the Vietnam War ended. Was John drafted and did he serve in Vietnam? If he did, it would have added another layer to John’s character and his bitterness with the “man” and the United States government.

Banshee and Wolverine battle giant crabs and reach the temple.  Nightcrawler and Sunfire battle golden birds and snark at each other: “I begin to think the mutant community is no more hospitable than the human…”  The duo also reach the temple.

The group find the original X-Men inside the temple.  Angel warns that it’s a trap and the new mutant is the island itself.

The group battles Krakoa, the “island that walks like a man”.  Professor X mentally joins the battle.  Storm, Polaris, Havok, and Cyclops team up to deliver the final blow. The X-Men retreat as the island breaks apart.

The issue ends with Angel asking “What are we going to do with thirteen X-Men?”

Krakoa could have used more fleshing out – is it a mutant that turned into an island or a mutated island? What exactly are its abilities? As it is, it’s relegated to a plot device – and a boring one at that.  

Poor Scott didn’t even realize his entire future could be summed up in this issue:  a lifetime of mutants questioning every command and mouthing off at every opportunity.  Poor Scott had to deal with Thunderbird, Wolverine, Sunfire, and Havok this issue.

The recruitment scenes were the best part of the issue.  You could tell Banshee and Sunfire had previously appeared in the X-Men series as their recruitment only took one to two panels.  Wolverine had made an appearance in the Hulk, also written by Len Wein, so he had a bit more panel time.  Storm, Nightcralwer, Colossus, and Thunderbird’s recruitment received more page time as they were completely new creations.  The battle with Krakoa was “meh”.  Krakoa doesn’t become fun until he joins the Jean Grey school decades later.

[jacobkenth61-blog]

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[iatethepomegranate]

(Belated) DickTiger Week Day 7: Picnic

This is so late I’m sorry. Happy birthday @iontorch

Masterlist (including AO3 links)

Title: We Should Do This Every Day

Rating: Explicit

Length: 4k

Summary: Dick and Tiger can't go very far for their honeymoon, but Dick has some ideas on how to make the most of it.

Notes: The park is VERY LOOSELY based on Colt State Park in Bristol, Rhode Island. I got some ideas on what to do from there and then went off and did my own thing.

The last scene is unabashed smut. I have also forgotten how to write smut.

We Should Do This Every Day

So maybe just hopping a few states over for a honeymoon wasn't what he'd had in mind, but Dick's siblings tended to get antsy when he was too far away for too long... as if he was about to fake his death again. Besides, he married Tiger because he liked the guy, not just because he loved him. If they couldn't enjoy each other's company anywhere, why get married at all?

Tiger was also hilarious during long drives... mainly because he became increasingly exasperated with Dick's attempts to entertain himself.

“I swear,” Tiger said from the passenger seat, “if you sing that damn song one more time...”

“Oh, come on. It's Batman's theme song.”

“You probably invented it,” Tiger grumbled, bumping the back of his head against the headrest.

“Not this one, no.” Dick shot him a grin before focusing back on the road. They'd been driving for a few hours and didn't have much longer left. Somehow, they hadn't killed each other, which boded well for their marriage. “We rescued a moderately famous band when I was Robin, so they wrote a song for us. It charted for a few weeks, actually. The local radio station still plays it sometimes.”

“I pity everyone who lives in Gotham City.”

“Just for the music?”

“Yes. Gotham City is a perfectly safe place otherwise.”

Dick snorted. “Can you believe I used to think you had no sense of humour?”

“My sense of humour is simply more refined than yours,” Tiger replied.

“That's just a fancy way of saying you don't find as many things funny.”

“Yes.”

Light was fading by the time they drove into town and reached the hotel. Dick and Tiger had alternated driving, so both were tired and strung-out and ready to sleep. It took a herculean effort to strip off their clothes before falling into bed. The mattress was hard, but that would just mean more leverage... when they weren't exhausted.

“At least we already knew we could get through a trip like that without killing each other,” Dick said, staring at the darkened ceiling. “Going on the run from Spyral is still paying off a year later.”

Tiger grunted into his pillow. Dick flopped across his back. They'd spent their wedding night in Gotham so they wouldn't keel over from exhaustion. Just as well, because they both fell asleep like this.

Of course, Tiger always rose early to pray, so Dick woke to find himself rolling gently across the bed, a whispered apology in his ear. It was Dick's own fault, really.

When Dick woke properly some time later, thin cracks of light lined the edges of the curtains and birdsong drifted in from outside the window. Tiger snored against his back, their legs tangled together under the warm covers.

Dick wanted to wake up like this for the rest of his life. Hell, if he had anything to say about it, he would... or as often as possible. Tiger still had his duties as Patron calling him away at times. This week, though? It was just for them.

Tiger shifted awake, rubbing his beard against Dick's bare shoulder. Dick rolled onto his back. Tiger settled against his chest, letting out a sigh as Dick stroked his hair.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dick said, his consonants still loose and lazy from sleep.

Tiger huffed. “Sunshine.”

“Shh. Let me call you things.”

“Hmph.” But he wasn't complaining.

Dick rubbed a hand over his face, yawning. “We should have breakfast.” They'd gone to bed early the previous night, and he was waking up faster than usual. That was nice. More time to spend hanging out with his BFF-slash-husband.

Tiger rolled out of bed, hunting for clothes. “Wash up. I will find you something to wear.”

“Should I be worried?”

“Yes. Fear me.”

Dick stripped off and stepped into the shower. Tiger had washed up earlier, so he wasn’t surprised when he didn’t join him. The alone time gave Dick a moment to think. He’d been in touch with the hotel beforehand and had gotten some advice for what to do in the area. They’d also agreed to help him source a few items to help things along. He’d spent a few minutes on the phone at a rest stop the previous day confirming that everything would be ready.

But first: a light breakfast.

Fortunately, the clothing Tiger had picked out for Dick was inoffensive. Probably less awful than what Dick would’ve chosen for himself. They’d mostly packed light, given the weather forecast, with a coat or two just in case. Dick tied his sweater around his neck like an asshole, mostly because Tiger hated it.

They had breakfast out on the patio, feet nudging together under the table. Tiger had taken his suggestion to eat lightly to heart, and he hadn’t questioned why.

“Aren’t you a little bit curious?” Dick asked him, spoonful of cereal forgotten in his half-raised hand. Tiger had that effect on him.

“I am,” Tiger admitted, reaching over to guide the spoon into Dick’s mouth. “Now eat, you child.”

Dick swallowed his mouthful. “Come on, man. You normally complain a lot more than this.”

“I am biding my time.” Tiger gave him a sharp, toothy smile. “You enjoy my complaints too much.”

“True. You’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

Tiger’s cheeks coloured a little, and he seized on the sudden chattering of birds in flight above them to look somewhere else. Dick rested his cheek in his hand, watching him. He could stare at Tiger for hours and not get bored. For a spy, he was rather emotive once you knew what to look for, mostly in the eyes and eyebrows. A single raised eyebrow could tell stories that Dick needed hundreds of words to tell.

Tiger caught him staring. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” That all-too-familiar feeling of affection rose in Dick’s chest so quickly he had to let it out. “I just love you.”

Tiger’s eyes darted downwards for a moment, but then he reached out and slotted his fingers between Dick’s hand and his cheek. “I love you, too.”

They could’ve happily gone back to the hotel room and spent the whole day in there, but Dick had put a lot of planning into today and he was going to use it. The hotel had come through and sent what he requested to the nearby state park, where they’d pick it up from the ranger station. Dick wanted to keep Tiger in the dark until the last minute.

They borrowed a pair of bikes and set out. The roads were quiet today, and they were on a bike track in no time. There was just enough room to ride side-by-side, with good visibility in case someone needed to get past.

“Do you intend to tell me where we are going?” Tiger asked. There was something funny about seeing him on an ordinary bicycle after seeing him on motorcycles and tanks. It did great things for his thighs, though.

“Soon,” Dick promised. “I wanted to surprise you.”

The trail turned out back to the road soon enough, and they had to ride single file the rest of the way. They left the bikes chained up outside the park and walked inside, hands linked together. Tiger was observing the rolling green lawns around them with a little frown. Dick wanted to kiss the crease between his eyebrows.

They reached the ranger station and Dick finally grabbed the important piece of today’s outing: a picnic basket full of goodies from the local shops around town. Tiger watched him silently, a peculiar look on his face.

Dick opened the basket to check that everything was in order. “Everything okay, T?”

“I…” Tiger cleared his throat. “Yes.”

Dick grabbed his hand, leading him along the winding paths towards a spot the hotel staff had promised they would love. “Come on. What’s going on?”

Tiger kept his eyes on the greenery around them. “I do not know how to… no one has ever…”

“This your first picnic?”

“Yes.”

“Nervous?”

“I suppose.” The fact Tiger could admit something it spoke volumes of how far their relationship had come since those first days of trading barbs and trying not to kill each other out of frustration.

“You don’t have to be super cool and knowledgeable about everything, you know.” Dick looped his arm around Tiger’s, leaning against his shoulder as they walked. “It’s okay to feel out of your depth sometimes.”

“I always feel out of my depth with you.”

“That’s love, T.”

Tiger made a soft, possibly amused, possibly rueful, noise. “You know I am not used to people… doing things for me.”

“I’ll give you plenty of practice.”

His frown eased off the tiniest bit, which was the equivalent of a relieved sigh in Tiger-language. Dick nuzzled his shoulder and caught the corner of Tiger’s mouth lifting a little.

They finally reached the spot and Dick laid out the blanket. There was an open-air chapel nearby that was apparently popular for small weddings. It was just an archway and some white benches, but it still made Dick feel emotional as he laid out their spread for lunch. Dick and Tiger had married in Alfred’s rose garden. Bruce had enlisted the batkids’ help to build an archway and decorate it with the roses Alfred was willing to pluck from the garden. The park’s setup here was much simpler, but it still had Dick a little choked up.

Two men in suits were under the archway, with a small handful of people looking on. The men were wrapped up in each other, as if nobody around them existed. Dick knew that feeling well.

Tiger fed Dick a ribbon sandwich, capturing his attention once again. Eating from Tiger’s hands always went one of two ways: either the food tasted infinitely better, or he’d get so distracted that he no longer tasted the food at all. Tiger’s fingers caressing his cheek put him into that second camp.

They fed each other sandwiches, keeping an eye on the ceremony nearby. The men were crying, their foreheads pressed together.

“Do not start,” Tiger warned Dick. “Please.”

“As if you’re not getting a little misty-eyed over there,” Dick teased. They’d already finished the sandwiches without really tasting them. Then came bread and cheeses and grapes and figs.

The couple under the arch kissed. Dick leaned back against Tiger. He could almost smell the sweetness of those roses again. Their first kiss as a married couple had been tender. Tiger had cradled the back of his head like glass and dipped him like a princess. Dick didn’t mind feeling like a princess sometimes, especially when it came to the romantic stuff.

Tiger wrapped his arms around Dick’s shoulders, kissing the top of his head. “They look happy.”

“Yeah.” Dick still felt teary; he’d always had an overabundance of empathy. Couple that with memories of one of the happiest days of his life, and he had no chance. “I’m happy, too.”

“As am I.” Tiger rested his cheek where he’d kissed. He wasn’t normally this affectionate in public.

“Would you kill me if I took a selfie right now?”

“No,” Tiger said warmly. Dick got the impression he wanted to remember this moment, too.

Dick wrestled out his phone and snapped a picture of them cuddled up like this against a backdrop of green grass and distant sea. The sky was bright blue and clear. It looked exactly how Dick felt. He texted a copy of the photo to Alfred and then put his phone away. Tiger held his attention far more easily than anything else in the world.

Dick rested the platter on his lap and fed Tiger grapes over his head. Tiger would sometimes grab one and shove it into Dick’s mouth instead. Lying here, being lazy and shoving food in each other’s faces was such a stark contrast to their usual panicked running-around-trying-to-save-the-world-from-burning-down lifestyle that Dick realised this had been the right decision. Anything more elaborate than this would’ve been exhausting. They needed to relax for once.

And maybe cry over other people’s weddings.

Soft music floated over from someone’s phone at the ceremony and the two men were slow-dancing in a circle. Tiger gave Dick a squeeze. They’d felt too awkward to dance in front of the handful of people that had been at their wedding, which had been Dick’s family plus Helena, but they’d swayed together in their room afterwards.

Dick rested his head against Tiger’s chest, closing his eyes. He could feel the rise and fall of his husband’s breaths. It was one of the most comforting things he’d ever experienced. Sometimes he just liked to lie on top of him with his ear pressed against Tiger’s chest, listening to the beat of his heart and the gentle rushing of air.

The wedding party was gone when he opened his eyes; he must’ve fallen asleep. Tiger’s lovely green eyes watched him with amusement as he sat up and stretched. Dick threw a grape at him.

They quietly packed up the remnants of the picnic, nibbling on leftover bits and pieces as they went. Tiger shook the blanket and folded it away. There was still plenty of time in the day, though, and Dick didn’t want to leave yet.

He rested the basket on one of the chapel benches and led Tiger to the arch. It was a pretty lattice design, pure white. The grass had been worn down to dirt beneath it, and there was something beautiful in that, in the fact so many people had stood there with the one they loved and said the words to tie their souls together. So many hearts poured out in this one spot.

“We are already married, Dick,” Tiger reminded him, but he was smiling a little.

Dick gently swung their joined hands side-to-side. “I want to live in that moment a while longer.”

“It is a good moment,” Tiger agreed, tugging Dick towards him. He slid an arm around Dick’s waist, keeping the other hand firmly clasped in his. “Our first dance was an afterthought. We should do another.”

Dick let Tiger lead their swaying. It was less awkward doing this in front of random people walking by than a small group of people he knew well. The birdsong was their music, their hearts the rhythm.

Tiger rested his forehead against Dick’s and they both closed their eyes. Tiger freed his hand from Dick’s and slid it into his hair. They kissed slowly. Dick could almost smell the roses again. Wherever they ended up in the future, he’d have to plant some.

Dick lost track of time. He laid his head on Tiger’s shoulder and their swaying turned to gentle rocking on the spot, their arms wrapped around each other.

“I love this,” Dick whispered. “We should do this every day.” He felt Tiger smile against the side of his face.

“We should.” Tiger didn’t bring up the fact he would likely be absent for weeks, if not months, at a time. They’d deal with that later. This week was for them. No worrying allowed.

It was almost dark by the time they returned to the hotel. Tiger headed upstairs to pray while Dick spoke to the hotel staff to thank them for their help organising the picnic.

Tiger was sitting cross-legged in the of the bed when Dick returned. His fingers reverently traced the edges of his Quran as he gently closed it.

“I enjoyed our picnic,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” Dick climbed onto the bed beside him. “Did you want to read for a bit longer?”

Tiger shook his head. “One moment.” He slid off the bed to put the book away, and then lay down in the middle of the bed. Dick couldn’t help but trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of his finger. Tiger just smiled up at him. He smiled so freely with Dick these days. Dick loved that smile, so he kissed him.

Tiger slid his fingers down Dick’s neck and shoulders, coaxing him closer. Dick lay on top of him, and Tiger pressed his hands his back, fingers digging in. He pressed his thigh against Dick’s hip and Dick held him there.

They shed their clothes clumsily, unwilling to spend more than a few moments with their lips apart from each other.

“What do you want, babe?” Dick said, nipping Tiger’s ear.

Tiger snorted at the nickname, his legs wrapping around Dick’s waist. Dick got the message and reached for the lube he’d thrown on the nightstand at some point.

Tiger sighed when Dick slipped a finger inside him. “Finally.”

Dick kissed his stomach, grinning as his muscles shuddered. They were more than capable of going days without sex if necessary, but they didn’t like it… especially now. If they hadn’t been dead tired last night, they probably would’ve been up all night.

Dick pressed his tongue to the tip of Tiger’s cock. Tiger swore under his breath, grabbing fistfuls of bedcovers. So Dick licked him from base to tip, wrapping his lips around him and sliding back down. Tiger grabbed his hair, biting down on the pillow.

Dick pulled off, replacing his mouth with his free hand. “Sensitive tonight?”

“Do not stop. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” Dick busied his mouth with things other than talking. Tiger grabbed the headboard, groaning. He didn’t take long to come into Dick’s mouth. Then he silently beckoned Dick towards him. Dick straddled his torso and Tiger grabbed his cock, twisting his wrist just so, enough that Dick had to put his hands down on the bed before he lost his balance.

“Fuck me,” Tiger said, his voice already rough.

“Won’t you be too sensitive?”

“You are a clever man, Dick. Find a solution.”

Tiger got so bossy when he bottomed. Well, he was bossy during sex in general, but he took that to impressive heights at times like this. Dick didn’t waste any time, grabbing the condom from the nightstand.

He settled between Tiger’s legs and gently pressed inside. Tiger let out a long breath and relaxed around him. His cock twitched, but it wasn’t quite ready to get hard again. Dick was going to have a hard time keeping himself together for long enough, but he’d always relished a challenge. At least Tiger had a short refractory period compared to some other (non-metahuman) guys Dick had slept with in the past. He could usually be coaxed into getting hard again with a few minutes, at least the first time.

Until then, though, Dick had to be gentle. Every movement brought out a reaction in Tiger, such a stark difference from the man he’d thought Tiger was when they first met.

Tiger caressed Dick’s cheek. “You can go faster.”

“You’ll tell me if it hurts, right?”

Tiger rolled his eyes. “Yes, Dick. We have established this.”

“My blood really isn’t in my brain right now, T. Cut me some slack.”

Tiger chuckled, which reverberated through his whole body, including his ass. Both of them had to take a breath.

“That was interesting,” said Dick.

“Mm.” Tiger nudged Dick with his thigh. “That was not an invitation to stop.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tiger grumbled about that, but Dick’s slow thrusts didn’t let him stay coherent for long. He was getting hard again, so Dick moved faster. Tiger jerked himself, breaths coming in pants, until he threw his hand away, grabbing more blankets in his fist instead.

Dick brushed his hand across Tiger’s nipples and down his chest. He trailed his fingers across his hips, barely touching the hair around his cock. Tiger grabbed Dick’s ass, pushing him in deeper. Dick was not going to last much longer. He changed his angle, and Tiger moaned, arching off the bed.

“Dick. I need… ngh… more. Roll over.”

If there was anything hotter than Tiger splayed out beneath Dick, panting for his cock, it absolutely was Tiger on top, riding his cock until they both saw stars.

Dick’s back hit the mattress and Tiger sank down on top of him. He set a punishing pace that Dick absolutely needed right now, his cock rubbing against Dick’s stomach. Dick grabbed Tiger’s hips and thrusted upwards to meet him.

Tiger leaned down and kissed him, all tongue and teeth. They had to break apart every few seconds to breathe, but fuck it was hot. Dick dug his fingers into Tiger’s hips. Their rhythm stuttered, breaths tearing out of their throats. Tiger grabbed the headboard for leverage, eyes squeezed shut, face screwed up as he moaned.

“Fuck, Tiger. I’m gonna… ahh.” Dick couldn’t take it anymore. He came inside Tiger.

Tiger grabbed his cock and fucked into his hand, spilling over onto Dick’s stomach. He was beyond sound, breaths coming out in short puffs. Dick caressed his thighs until he collapsed on top of him.

They lay there for a while, listening to each other’s breathing. Tiger shoved his face into the pillow for a moment, until he could find the energy to slide off and curl up against Dick’s side. His eyes were already closed.

Dick cupped his chin. “Tired?”

“Mm-hm.”

He kissed the man’s forehead. “Good day, huh?”

“Mm.” Tiger opened his eyes. “Thank you for everything. And fuck you.”

“Wow, man. I just made you come twice and that’s the thanks I get?”

“Now I have to take you on a date just as good as this one,” Tiger replied.

Dick snorted. “Well, if it makes you feel better, we’re married now. You can do that whenever you want. Hell, bring me donuts on patrol and blow me in an alley to the dulcet tones of a police siren and I’ll call it even.”

Tiger barked out a laugh, shoving a hand over his mouth as if hadn’t realised how loud it was. “I will do it, Dick.”

“Looking forward to it.” It was nowhere near the weirdest sex thing either of them had done, together or with others. “So, you definitely liked it?”

“Dick. I loved it.” Tiger ran a light finger down Dick’s throat. Dick wouldn’t normally let anyone touch him there—did anyone?—but it was somehow sweet when Tiger did.

“Okay. Good.”

“You know I loved it.” Tiger cuddled closer, planting a kiss on Dick’s lips.

“Maybe I wanted to hear you say it again.” Dick tangled his legs with Tiger’s. “I love you lots.”

“I love you too.” Tiger touched his forehead to Dick’s and they both closed their eyes.

Dick was going to make sure they had more days like this. The look Tiger had given him when he learned they were having a picnic was hard to forget. He wanted Tiger to experience more amazing new things he’d never had the chance to try before. He was going to spoil him rotten, just like Tiger loved to spoil him.

They’d had to fight to get here at all. Dick was not about to take that for granted. Every day with Tiger was full of laughter and wonder and so much love Dick felt like he was going to burst from it sometimes.

Tiger relaxed into sleep and Dick watched him. His breaths were slow and calm, his beard lightly scratching Dick’s shoulder. Dick wanted more of this, too, and he knew he was going to get it.

They were married now. The thought still made Dick want to do somersaults, but right now he was content to grab the blankets and cosy up to his wonderful husband. He was going to kiss him senseless in the morning.

Whatever happened in the future, however much Tiger had to travel as Patron, they would always have this. They would always come back together.

They would always be Tiger and Dick: partners, lovers…

Husbands.

[rescueddetermination]

Doctor

Clawed footsteps echoed down the metal structure of the half-finished CORE.  The machine wasn’t operational, and workers moving among its components typically wore safety harnesses hooked to rails. The masked welder frowned when he realized he couldn’t hear the telltale sliding of a hook along the nearby rail accompanying those footsteps. “D-Doctor!” The young lizard yelled as she approached, loud enough to be heard over the sound of machinery and construction. “It’s t-t-time!” The welder leaned back, switching his torch off and lifting his mask. Three extra white-gloved hands flickered into view, lifting the torch away, and another pair started to unhook his mask. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was, nor that she’d once again gotten overexcited and forgotten to affix her safety gear. “Alphys, harness.” “Wh- oh! S-s-sorry, Doctor!” Alphys replied, fumbling with her hook and finally getting it onto the rail. “Y-you’re, just--”

She faltered as he stood. The welder was an imposing seven feet three inches tall, broad-shouldered and thin, and despite his relative youth he had the experience to back up the authority he’d been given. Still, when he turned, he had that same childish kindness in his smile that she’d come to know since he’d hired her on.  It was hard to think of Dr. William Dillon Gaster as being young, but every so often it did come to her mind just what he was, and it always threw her. As the only member of his race that didn’t simply disappear into seclusion when the war broke out, there weren’t many available points of comparison. He claimed, often with a sheepish look, to be “only” 85, and initially resisted King Asgore’s attempts to bring him on as the lead Royal Scientist. He had velvety-smooth flesh under pale skin that glowed lightly in the dark. His hair was more of a shock of white fluff that often simply seemed to have a mind of its own, and he had starry fields in the black sclera of his eyes, the irises somewhere between purple and blue with pupils like those of an octopus. Despite how alien they were, Alphys always found they were where his youth really showed. He looked at everything with at least a subtle hint of wonder, and had approached the CORE project with a giddiness that was hard to mistake.  “You’re g-going to want t-to look at this.” The lizard finished, once the Doctor had finished unfolding his considerable legs from his crouch. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He said, walking over. He placed a hand on her shoulder and nodded, his eyes twinkling like the roof of the Waterfall caverns. “Let’s go see what we’ve got.” “It d-doesn’t make much s-sense, is a-all.” Alphys stammered, following her boss out of the CORE. “Y-you’ll s-see.” “That’s always the exciting part!” Will exclaimed. He put his hands in his pockets, more of those summoned ones appearing to untie and remove his apron. They placed a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on his face, then tossed the apron onto a nearby table with the rest of his equipment. “The part before it makes sense!” “N-no, it. Well.” Alphys clicked her hand-claws together, then shook her head. He’d see. Will was always like this. She wondered if he’d been like this back during the war.  He never talked about what he did back then. Nobody ever asked.  Will hummed on the way to the research lab. Built a good extra fifty feet below the surface-level station that would eventually monitor the CORE, the research lab was a sophisticated multi-team facility that housed equipment for every discipline that the Royal Science Academy supported and then some. It even sported a communal sort of scientist barracks, a rest area for team members who couldn’t or wouldn’t leave their project too far away.  And at its heart, William and his hand-picked team had been performing what he considered the most important research of their lives. Ever since the discovery that, with the right equipment, the actual structure of time could be observed on a macro scale, Will had made it his goal to oversee the project that would give them a conclusive view of it. It was beyond top-secret, the kind of research that could shake the foundations of society, and everyone working on it knew they might not like what they found.  Still, Will believed he wouldn’t be much of a scientist if the potential for unpleasant results dissuaded him from carrying out a non-harmful test. He ran summoned hands through his fuzz on the elevator ride down, taking a few deep breaths. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his construction uniform, and Alphys’ eyes drifted down to stare at how he was tapping the steel toe of his boot against the wall.  “Sorry.” He said, when he noticed her gaze. “Long trip down. You hear anything from Sans about his teleportation project yet? Would make this a lot simpler.” “Last I h-heard he was c-conv-vinced that he needed m-more power.” Alphys said, pushing her glasses up on her own nose. “W-wanted t-t-to wait for the C-CORE to be d-done.” “Sensible enough.” Will said. His hands fidgeted in his pockets, tracing symbols long forgotten and tapping melodies never heard against the fabric. “And has Asgore given you a budget for the robotic arm project?” “Yes!” Alphys exclaimed, and Will couldn’t decide if she sounded more surprised or relieved. “Y-yes, it’s. He d-doubled what I as-as-asked for. Couldn’t b-believe it!” “It’s a good project!” Will said, and grinned, flashing unnervingly human teeth. “You worked hard on the proposal, I’m glad to hear it! We’ll have to get you a proper work room set up.” “W-wow, my own...” Alphys trailed off, veritable stars in her eyes. “T-thank you, Will! I m-mean--” “No need for that.” Will said. Once the door opened, he marched down the hall with lengthy strides, nodding in acknowledgement to the various lab assistants and scientists that greeted him on the way. “You earned this, Doctor Alphys. Your understanding of both machinery and programming is far beyond what I could do. I can’t wait to see your results.” Alphys stammered, but managed nothing more than vague and overexcited starts at more thanks. Will beamed. She’d been barely capable of speaking at all when he brought her on three years ago to help work on the CORE project, and since then, the fresh-faced college graduate had become one of his closest partners on what he’d called Chronos Project. In her spare time, she’d built a prototype robotic arm from literal scrap, and at his urging had developed it into a proper research proposal.  Perhaps once he was done with the initial Chronos results, he would discuss whether she’d be interested in picking up some interns from the Royal University of the Sciences in New Home.  He pushed those thoughts aside and stepped up to the single most secure door in the Underground. Rather than presenting a hand or his face, he pressed his chest to the scanner, and sharply inhaled as it scanned his SOUL directly.  It wasn’t functionally dissimilar to the common ‘Check’. But there was something about the machine that still made it uncomfortable for him. Perhaps it was the warmth of the scanner.  Once the door finished unbolting itself, he stepped inside with Alphys at his heels. The control room for Project Chronos was illuminated almost entirely by a series of twelve monitors, arranged 6x2 across the back wall. Each one was magical tech, same as most of the lab equipment, and Will preferred his screens that way.  At the console sat two of his other team members. Both of them snapped their heads up as he entered, and he nodded to them. “As you were. What’ve we got?” Tenor, an armless lizard with light grey scales, gestured at monitor 3 with her tail. It showed timestamps in a format Will had invented, relative to a fixed point in time that they’d identified as occurring within a day of the results coming in. “Lookin’ like some relevant events, boss. But the numbers are fucked.” Tenor had endeared herself to Will as a Junior Scientist working on Soul research, one of Will’s original passions. When she started postulating theories about the power of the soul to affect the flow of time, it wasn’t just her crass language that caught Will’s attention. He’d brought her in to look at some of Chronos’ preliminary test structures, she’d improved them immediately, and he’d worked with her on it ever since. Will cleared his throat, then leaned in to look. Sure enough, he had to admit that they didn’t look right. There was a logged disruption over a hundred years in the future relative to their point, several in the proximity of that point, three trailing behind where they currently were. He quirked his mouth. “The hell...” “Timeline chart will be had in two minutes.” Said his other team member. A male spider monster with a yellow and black carapace and eight eyes that reflected the monitors, Jacob had been a valuable member of the team from the instant Will read his paper on time-space data analysis and representation. It was supposed to be a paper on gravitation for a freshman physics class. Jake had been pulled from his classes within a month and placed on Will’s team, and through the course of the next six months of work, he’d earned the right to participate in Chronos by impressing Will beyond his years. “Let’s get ready for that data, then.” Will said, sliding his work coat off and cracking the knuckles on a pair of summoned hands. He took a seat between the pair, and Alphys pulled a chair over to sit beside Jake. “Tenor, everything vetting properly?” “Hate t’admit, boss, but yeah. Hardware an’ software both workin’ as expected. It ain’t our tech. That data’s real.” Tenor said, clawed summoned fingers dancing across her keyboard. “Did five tests while Alphy was gettin’ ya.” “Well done. Damn. Jake?” Will asked, summoning a keyboard and plugging in to monitor 6. His summoned hands started typing, more restrained than Tenor’s rapid-fire commands. “The tests will have had to be adjusted for parameters I had been believing were out of range.” Jake explained. To his credit, he sounded more intrigued than upset, and Will thanked the stars for that. “One minute to be remaining.” Will steepled his summoned fingers in front of his face, focusing on Jake’s screen. Even as new data constantly flowed across some of the other screens, he squinted through his glasses at the empty grid, waiting for the information he so badly craved.  “Output is to be now.” Jake said. All eyes fell on the grid.  For a full two minutes, there was silence. Will stood, his mouth agape. Alphys dropped the keyboard she was using. Jake leaned forward on the counter that held the physical keyboards, and Tenor slid back in her chair with wide eyes.  “What in the absolute balls.” Will breathed, pulling his right hand from his pocket and tracing the loop on the screen. “That should be impossible.” “Even in my fuckin’ crazy talk theory thoughts I never figured there could be somethin’ like that.” Tenor agreed. “Fuckin’ stars, Will.” There on the screen, the red line of time’s flow stretched far into the future. Then it doubled back, a perfect loop that led directly backward to well before their current date. It then curved back again. And, in both directions of the loop, the path wavered badly as it approached...  “Nine fifty-six in the evening, tomorrow.” Will muttered, his finger hovering over that spot. “What the hell happens tomorrow night?” “There also seems to have been something else.” Jake said, pointing. There, scattered throughout the grid, but particularly notable at the very edge of the forward part of the first iteration, the team could just barely make out the presence--the very edge--of what Will could only describe as another line. “S-s-s-separate t-t-t-t-timelines?” Alphys stammered, rubbing her forehead.  “Multiple universes, maybe?” Will asked the room, squinting at those rare contact points.  “Can’t be us.” Tenor confirmed. “Else we’d see the whole thing.” “It is not having been signal noise.” Jake said, looking at his work screen again. “Having had signal noise eliminated for months.” Will pursed his lips, slowly sitting back down with his hands in his pockets again. He stared at the screen for a minute longer, then exhaled long and low and loud.  “Well.” He said, and paused. Closed his eyes to think for a moment, then opened them to look at his team. “Looks like we have plenty more work to do.”

[rhetoricandlogic]

Minutes to Midnight: The End of the Day by Claire North

Niall Alexander

Thu Apr 6, 2017 3:30pm

I’ve fallen for every one of Claire North’s novels. The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, Touch, and The Sudden Appearance of Hope have between them broken my heart and expanded my mind. They’ve thrilled me and they’ve chilled me. By way of them I’ve been exposed to new places, new ideas—new ways of being, even. But if I had to level a single criticism against her thoughtful body of work, it would have to be directed at its measure, because whilst her texts have tackled a great many meaningful themes, not least the array of ways we determine identity, I’ve found North’s literary positions a little non-committal.

That’s not the case in The End of the Day. This is a book with something to say; something important, if I may. It’s slow to start, and oddly episodic even when the plot has picked up; its characters come and go with next to no notice; it’s difficult, and confusing, and contradictory—but that’s what life is like, right? And the messy, maddening, magical gift of life we’ve all been given, that’s what The End of the Day deals in: not death… although its principal perspective is on her payroll.

Like North’s other novels, The End of the Day is a high concept travelogue of sorts, but this fiction’s frequent flier is Charlie, and Charlie just got hired! He’s to be the Harbinger of the foremost of the apocryphal horsemen, of which singular position Death gives this description:

The Harbinger is a mortal, a bridge between this world and the next. In the old days I used eagles, but people stopped paying attention to them after a while—just birds in he sky—[so] I switched to humans a few thousand years ago. One must move with the times.

North doesn’t waste any time reinventing the wheel here. Death appears in any number of forms over the course of the story. Sometimes he’s male and sometimes she isn’t; from time to time she has a scythe; here and there, horns protrude from his lumpen skull. “In all other respects he was the figure she had known would come, the god of the underworld, exactly as the stories said he would be.”

Charlie, on the other hand, is just a puny human. An awkward sort with precious few friends or family ties, he took this odd job primarily because he believed the travel required would broaden his horizons and help him meet new people. And it definitely does that. But it’s also difficult work, and desperately dangerous. Death may just be a phone call away, but Charlie really doesn’t want to be a bother, so he’s arrested repeatedly and beaten frequently. On any number of occasions he nearly perishes himself, and inevitably, these experiences lead him to ask that age-old question:

What is Death? It’s the oldest question; maybe the very first question ever asked. The dead can’t tell us, the dying don’t have the language to explain. The only guaranteed part of our lives is the one thing we cannot express, control or command. It comes and are we are… so afraid. Too afraid to look. Too afraid to understand. We think we know, we think we prepare, but we don’t. Like a man tied to the train tracks, we see death coming, all our lives we see it coming, and we cannot name that light, but know exactly what it is. To see life, to honour life, you must know that one day it will end, that it has ended, that it will begin again, that all things change, that change is death. These words, too big, too big to understand, too big, too frightening, and so we ask…

Asking is all North has done in her novels till now—and there’s value in that: in open-ended questioning. But here, at last, in The End of the Day, she ventures an answer. And the answer, at least initially, is simpler than you’d think. What, then, is death? Why, it’s life! “Life, yes, as I said. When you are Harbinger of Death, you go before, and before there is death, there is life. You go to greet and honour the living. It would be ridiculous, obscene even, if you didn’t.”

But life, human life, is, as Charlie learns—maybe a little too late—not the precious prize he once believed it to be. In going before, in dutifully delivering gifts of significance to those on their last legs, he is ultimately exposed to such horror and hatred that he becomes haunted by his own humanity. Where once he saw beauty and truth and football and music, “now I look and all I hear is the beating of the drums and all I see is a world in which to not be one of us is to be something else. The scientist was right, reason is dead; the dream is dead; humanity has changed into something new and it is brutal. It is ugly. Life is ugly. And it is obscene. And I look. And all I see is you.”

It’s characteristically contemplative, yes, and at points disarmingly disjointed, but without giving too much away, The End of the Day is a brilliantly original and abusively amusing book that’ll make you angry at humanity at the same time as reminding readers such as we why life is worth living. Equal parts protest novel and speculative testament, it charts a new path for Claire North as a novelist—and though there may be bumps in the road less travelled she’s intent on taking, I can’t wait to see where it, in turn, takes us.

[jccamus]

New York Times CEO shares his guide to thriving in the next decade

New York Times CEO shares his guide to thriving in the next decade https://ift.tt/3aoPSuj

What lessons can the global news media industry learn from one of the most influential figures in media today, New York Times CEO Mark Thompson?

On Wednesday, INMA members were treated to an exclusive Webinar in which INMA Executive Producer Mark Challinor interviewed Thompson live from his office in New York. The 327 people from 44 countries who registered to attend the Webinar had the opportunity to ask Thompson their questions about what lies ahead in media for 2020.

Presenting a CEO’s guide to surviving and thriving in today’s media landscape, Thompson discussed subscriptions, future payment mechanisms, new revenue streams, approaches to ad sales, his relationship with the platforms, and much more.

Challinor opened the Webinar by introducing Thompson as one of the most influential figures in media today. Since 2012, Thompson has directed the strategy and global operations of The New York Times. Under his leadership, digital subscriptions have grown from 500,000 to four million.

Leading off with his first question, Challinor asked Thompson to what he credited such amazing success.

The New York Times reached four million digital subscribers by 2019 (chart by INMA Researcher-in-Residence Grzegorz Piechota).

What factors would you point to in the growth and success of The New York Times during your tenure?

“We figured out about four or five years ago that we should be a subscription service, first,” Thompson told INMA members. “The biggest thing we had to sell was our content and the quality of what The Times journalism can do. We should begin to think of ourselves more like a quality subscription service, like an HBO or a Netflix.”

For Thompson, to accomplish that meant the company needed to invest, first and foremost, in journalism. To that effect, The Times has hundreds more journalists than it did just a few years ago — about 1,750 in all.

“It’s very unusual, at this moment in history, for publishers to be hiring rather than firing journalists,” Thompson said. “But actually, we thought that was a good thing. We’re going to be different than everyone else. We’re going to be building our strength while other people are weakening, and that’s going to help us find an audience.”

He added The Times team has a strong faith that there are many people who care deeply about what is happening in the world and will pay for access to the best journalism covering it.

What trends do you see as far as digital subscriptions?

Thompson began by saying that when The Times launched its digital pay model in 2011, most of the staff didn’t have high hopes for it. They thought there might be a couple hundred thousand potential digital subscribers out there. Instead, they were still focused on the print business, and stopping its decline, rather than focusing on and growing the digital business.

“Now, we have a very different view,” he said. “We have lots of platforms — print is one of our platforms. We love our print product, we’re going to be printing for another 15 years or more, but there is no growth to be had there. Over time, the number of subscribers will decline, advertisers will decline, and ultimately the economics of that platform will fail. That’s our view. The old ship is going to sink in the end.”

The New York Times' transition to a digital company has resulted in revenue flipping from advertising-based to subscription-based (chart by INMA Researcher-in-Residence Grzegorz Piechota).

It will become more and more difficult to make that economic model work and keep it cash positive, Thompson said. The task, therefore, became to grow a digital business that is big enough to cover all the costs of the company and drive profits for its shareholders. To do that, the company needs many more digital subscribers than print subscribers because less money is made on digital subscriptions.

“You need real scale. What we’re going for, perhaps more than any other newspaper in the world, is real scale. The really encouraging thing about the results we announced yesterday is that our model is currently accelerating. We added a million digital subscribers in a single year.”

This was the biggest year for The Times’ digital model in terms of new customers, Thompson reported. What he hopes to see is that million a year become the standard run rate — or higher. The company has set a goal to reach 10 million subscribers by 2025.

“I want to make it clear that this is not some glorious, imperial thing at all,” he added. “Given our cost structure, and given the reasonable expectations of our shareholders, that’s the kind of scale you want if you’re a digital-only business. Our reading of the world is scale is very important. Getting the sheer number of people to pool together to pay for the journalism to make a great company means you need scale. You need an international business. You need to get very good at things like retention. We’re still in the middle of an enormous task. I believe it’s possible.”

What changes have you seen at The Times in your eight-year tenure there?

“Other publishers are not having the luck we have had, particularly at local and regional level — and even at a national level, actually,” Thompson said. “This transition is difficult because of the scale of customers you need to really get it to work.”

The other big challenge is the culture change aspect, he said.

“We’ve been to hell and back with cultural change at The New York Times in many ways. It’s immense change. It’s a very different business. You need different skills. You need a different approach for the way you make decisions. It can’t be done the classic top-down way. You’re transitioning from a high-margin business to a relatively lower-margin business.

“There’s a whole world of challenge in doing this, and ... many publishers are finding it very hard. The competition has been dropping away. It’s extraordinary. We face remarkably little competition in many ways.”

In a live interview with INMA members from around the world, New York Times CEO Mark Thompson discussed the importance of culture change.

What above all has surprised you about the digital landscape?

“I think that we are often all guilty of assuming we know the future,” Thompson shared with INMA members. “There was a time when publishers thought there was a great business to be had from digital advertising and that was going to save them. There was a time very recently when people thought the major platforms were going to get so powerful that publishers were going to get squeezed out together.”

However, that power balance is swinging back slightly in favour of the publishers, he added. Google and Facebook are more vulnerable and starting to make some positive moves toward publishers.

“I’m a journalist,” he said. “Most people hate these disruptions, these gut-wrenching changes, but I am fascinated by them. We don’t know where the story ends. We don’t know what the world is going to look like.”

What is your opinion in terms of what our relationship with the platforms should be?

There was a time when the platforms said they were doing publishers a favour by distributing their names, headlines, and even content to new global audiences, Thompson said — and this was true, in a sense. The complicated world of distribution became simpler through platforms.

The New York Times is renegotiating its relationship with the platforms.

“You could do a piece of news and get it to the entire world. So there was a slight sense that the platforms were doing the publishers a favour. I think now, if you’ve got a quality news brand, you’re helping a platform if you’re allowing your news brand to be associated with that platform. You’re helping Google or Facebook or Twitter with your presence, and that needs to be reflected in the relationship.

“We see ourselves re-negotiating our relationship with the big platforms and asking for value in return for using our valuable content. We do want people to be able to learn about our journalism, maybe even sample it, but if they’re going to have a full experience of our journalism we want them to do it on our platform. We want the platforms to help pay for the journalism they’re getting the benefits from.”

What’s your view on payments, for example mobile and micro payments?

Thompson replied that people don’t want things to be free, they want them to be easy. They want a transaction to be quick, simple — to execute the task and be able to enjoy what they’re paying for very rapidly.

“There was a time we found it very hard to get people to subscribe on their smartphones,” he told INMA members. The audience might read the content on their smartphones, but they associated the business of subscriptions with their desktop or laptop computer. Therefore, conversion rates on mobile were much lower than desktop.

“That’s not true anymore,” Thompson said. “The economics of paying for everything has all become much easier on our phones. That’s increasingly true of us as well, and that’s normalised that [payment via mobile]. You can become a registered user of The New York Times with your Google persona using a single tap. This means it’s much easier to get people engaged and to know a little bit more about them. This little device, the smartphone, for the coming year is by far going to be the biggest platform for The New York Times.”

The big challenge for publishers is this, Thompson said: Don’t think about the smartphone last. It needs to be all the other way around. Publishers must start with digital, out of which they get their Web site, and from that curate the physical print newspaper.

“The basic thing for legacy companies, which is psychologically very hard, is we need to put the new thing first and the old thing second — even if the old thing is still most of your economics.”

This represents an enormous internal difficulty for most companies, he said.

Customers don't expect things to be free, but they do expect the transaction to be easy.

“Everyone in your company knows how to do the existing thing. So give the responsibility for the existing thing to a handful of your best people. Parcel it off and get them to go off and do it. And let everyone else concentrate on the future. Clear the brainspace of the majority of your people to focus on the future.”

What about other verticals? TV shows, movie business, podcasts.

The Times has moved into many other spaces, for example with its popular column Modern Love, which became a podcast and was recently turned into a hit Amazon TV show.

“We’re producing tons of stories a day, plus there are these pockets of unexploited value in lifestyle, in relationships, in fashion, in business, in tech,” Thompson said. “I don’t think we’ve even begun to exploit the riches that we’ve got.”

Thompson said he believes much of The Times’ resources can be turned into podcasts, citing the example of The Daily, which is the most popular podcast in the world. It attracts a very young, incredibly engaged audience listening for 20 to 30 minutes per day, which is unheard of. More than half of The Daily audience is Millennial, leading to the podcast becoming a phenomenon.

“When I got here, the walls were closing in on us and the options were shutting down,” Thompson said. “And many publishers feel this, that their economics are going bad, they can’t find solutions, the options are narrowing. I feel now we’ve gotten to the point where the walls are moving out and the opportunities are growing.”

The Daily is a completely new, and lucrative, revenue stream for the Times, with more than two million listeners every day and 40 million each month. These listeners are deeply engaged, and this allows The Times to reach a completely new audience.

Thompson explained to the INMA audience why he thinks The Daily has struck such a chord: “It’s quite a warm show, and while the Times is generally a serious newspaper, this brings a bit of heart to the proceedings as well. It draws the listener into the whole business of journalism. It’s captivating.”

It’s also a major revenue stream. Thompson shared that each podcast includes two 30-second ads — which bring in tens of millions of dollars in revenue. “It’s a very attractive business. This stuff is cash-positive from day one. This is not some long overhang. With things like TV and podcasting, we’re making profit from day one.”

In your time there, what are you the most proud of?

“That we’ve got 300 more journalists now than when I started,” he replied. “I believe in journalists. I am a journalist. We found an economic way of actually justifying building our newsroom at a time when the world really does need great journalism.”

What were some of your biggest mistakes?

Thompson wasted no time in saying that the list of mistakes his team have made is endless. “We’ve launched products that didn’t work. We predicted things that didn’t happen. I sometimes say I think I’ve been more lucky with success than some of predecessors because I’ve made more mistakes.”

But the key, he said, was that the team opened itself up to failing.

“If you threaten people that they’ll be in big trouble if something doesn’t work, they’ll be timid. By the time you wait until you’re sure, it’s too late. You’ve got to accept that this is a place in media history where you’ve got to risk capital. We’ve tried to learn from Silicon Valley. You’ve got to bet the farm on stuff.”

The biggest challenges, however, came from inside the building. “It’s so easy to blame Google or Facebook when the real issue you face is the people down the corridor, or maybe look in the mirror. It’s very easy to be a CEO who asks for innovation while quietly going around killing it.”

A company has to embrace culture change and understand that most of the seasoned veterans are going to be risk averse and not likely to come up with the big, new, innovative ideas, he said: “You need the kind of maniacs in their 20s and 30s and early 40s to be out there winning the new battles, and you’ve got to be on their side.”

Looking at predictions for 2020, how do you think editorial will change?

Look at what has been happening in the world just in the first opening days of 2020, Thompson said.

“You think of a planet with bushfires raging in Australia and other environmental and weather related events happening right now, the U.S. and Iran coming to the brink of war. What a year in politics. Another big Brexit year, and the big question mark about Boris. In the U.S., this year is what most people believe will be the most important election of their lifetime.”

The challenge of the news media, he posed, is to rise to the occasion: “This is a big time in history, and the biggest thing is we need to lean into that and get those stories right. I think in terms of selling subscriptions and selling advertising, this is potentially a very rich year actually. Getting the messages right and solving these practical problems like what digital product is going to engage people, how do you think about your customer journey and the process. How can we take advantage of this moment with the big platforms? I see an incredibly busy year.”

He reiterated that legacy media is far from dead. The big news brands are still powerful, and Thompson doesn’t believe they are going away.

He related a personal example of the Nixon/Watergate story, which is what led him to get into journalism. It was The New York Times and The Washington Post “battling it out” for coverage of that story. Today, with the Trump impeachment story, it is still those same two legacy news brands bringing the story.

“That hasn’t changed. Half a century later, the names haven’t changed. Legacy media, which not too long ago was an insult, is a colossal advantage now. Having a brand, a masthead — which people associate with trust and reliability and consistency — is an immense advantage.”

Who should lead the media strategy?

Thompson believes the most important thing is to have someone leading strategy who is able to ask really honest and penetrating questions. “The questions aren’t even that hard, but you’ve got to be brave about asking fundamental questions about your business. I think strategy is a process of inquiry.”

What do you think is the impact of paywalls on advertising revenue?

“For us it’s essentially been neutral. We give registered users only a few articles each month before they have to pay. This has not affected our numbers of unique users in any way. I can’t see any significant downward impact on this in our advertising.”

He added that paywalls used to be an “either/or” idea — either you were going to have to sacrifice advertising revenue or subscription revenue. However, that has turned out not to be true.

How do you balance journalistic gut feeling versus statistics and data?

“I think it depends on the media organisation. Our tradition is very solidly human. We know when we talk to our users and subscribers, when you start talking about personalisation they get very twitchy. They want human editors to show them the stories. We are very wedded to the idea of human judge\ment in journalism.”

How are you approaching subscriber growth internationally?

“We don’t believe that we should be aiming to compete with local media extensively. We have 43 global bureaus, but it’s to cover the world for the world. We complement the local media. We don’t think this is going to require extensive additional journalism cost. We think price is very important. In a developing country you’ll never get any volume at all with the [U.S.] price of $15 a month. One of the reasons we’ve had big success with international news recently is because many readers from other countries come to us to find out what the hell is happening in the U.S.”

When it comes to publishers who do short, simple news, how can a paid Web site compete with a free one?

This is a difficult area, Thompson said.

“If you have a reputation for great news and real reliability, which I think you have to build up with distinctive journalism, then I think whatever you do gets that aura. I think the path for a news organisation that’s only got short, generic news is very limited, because that stuff is available for free on the Internet.”

He warned that a publisher can’t have it both ways; they can’t attain the revenue of a premium service with the cost of a free service. “The model where you had a captive advertising audience, as long as you held the audience with ‘OK’ content, you could get the advertisers to pay. That world has ended. That audience can now be reached by many people on many platforms. That’s a failed business model.”

Do you have any suggestions for small- to medium-sized local media who feel their size is a limitation to their growth?

Smaller geographies and the media that goes with them probably can’t scale to the same extent as the large, legacy media organisations, Thompson said. But on the plus side, the barriers to entry are potentially very high for competitors.

“If you can figure out a cost structure of delivering relatively high-quality news, it will be very hard for other players to do that. When something of global relevance happens in Japan, we’ll cover it. But we cannot compete with local news there. That idea of people being prepared to pay for news, even at a local level, is not a new one. But [the content has] to be good. Human beings want to know what’s going on. There’s no reason to think if you provide something valuable, people won’t pay for it. The question is to develop the right cost model.”

Would you be willing to share information about The Times churn rates?

While he could not share specific data, Thompson did say The Times experienced churn in its digital product between 2014 and 2017.

“We did a lot of testing on different kinds of introductory offers to The Times and did a lot of cohort testing over that time. We discovered that some offers were really strong at recruiting subscribers rather than others, and we got much better at working out the kind of offers that work in terms of retention. We also took the whole subscriber file and divided them into green, yellow, and red to discover the propensity to churn.

“The bottom line is that people who aren’t using the product are likely to churn. And what you can do is e-mail them, reach out to remind them what you’re doing and what’s of value to them.”

He also advised publishers to consider what their approach is when someone tries to cancel.

“What do you offer them? We’ve got years of experience on this with our print product. We’ve tried to apply that to digital. We’ve worked very hard at this, and we’re now pretty close to the frontier of the best retention in media. And I’m not just talking about newspapers. We think we’re slightly better than Netflix now.”

Can you comment on frequency and habit?

“I think habit is the right word,” Thompson said. “We want to be in people’s lives. We want to be indispensable. We want to be part of their daily routine.”

The Times wants people to wake up and look at the app on their smartphones to find out what’s happened in the world. A morning briefing to get them going, and the same in the evening, are good tactics, Thompson said.

“These fixed points during the day are important. Our morning podcast is a really good tool. There are lots of tactics, and I think a lot of this also is about your data science. Is it good enough that when you try something like a briefing, you’re optimising what you’re putting out there.”

In closing, Thompson said nothing in terms of programming structure should ever be fixed: “You actually find out by trial and error what works. Everything is a work in progress. Everything is still subject to improvement.”

https://ift.tt/2Nxzw8E via International News Media Association (INMA) January 17, 2020 at 02:19PM

[roycekibby]

Hate part 5// Stiles Stilinski

a/n: this is taking so long to write I might just get straight to the point in the next chapters.

Word count: 3,629

Chapters: Part1, Part2, Part3, Part4 

PayPal me: [1$] [2$] [3$] [4$] [5$] [6$] [0$]

(Y/n) sat down in her chair in her cousins’ classroom, as she kept looking down at her desk while he taught the lesson. He noticed her failure for participation in class, he knew that she would get the homework done even if she didn’t pay attention.

The bell rang for all the kids to head home, today after school the team had a meeting where they would watch the other teams plays from their last game to get a better grasp on their new skills and try to use some of their old moves back onto them.

 (Y/n) left Bobby’s room in a hurry because she knew that he was going to make her stay in the room until it was time to head over towards the gym.

 If (y/n) didn’t want to get beaten up by those girls she better do what they say and just leave them alone. She made it to her locker, (y/n) began to pack all the things she needed for her homework tonight not like she needed them anyway.

 As she was about to leave the school building, someone grabbed onto her arm stopping her in her tracks. Turning around she could see that it’s no one other than Scott.

 By now (y/n) heart was off the charts as the beating of her heart was so loud that it was hard for her to hear what he was saying to her.

 She stared at him blankly not saying a word towards him, Scott had this confused and worried look on his face as he was trying to make sure she was okay. All she did was grabbed his hand that he was holding her with off her shoulder and let go of it as it dropped by his side as she turned around leaving the building without a word to him.

 The whole encounter left Scott in the state of wonder and worry for the girl, he heard her heart beating as if she was running a marathon, he didn’t know what to do as his mind was trying to figure out if he should go after her and find out what’s wrong but the other half of him wants him to leave her alone and wait for the perfect moment to ask her what was wrong.

 So, that’s what he did. He decided to give her some space for her to be alone so when she’s ready he would be ready to listen to what she had to say.  In the meantime, he was going to go to the locker and ask them if they know anything about (y/n) sudden twist in behavior.

 Scott’s Pov

 As I walked in I could see everyone conversing with each other in a conversation between them and their friends.

 I saw my friends standing by the lockers talking amongst themselves before they even saw me enter, Stiles saw me walking up to them with a distinctive look on my face that looked confused.

 Stiles had noticed his best friends discomfort and waited for him to walk up, and when he did he snapped Scott out of his daydream with a question that made their other friends look at him.

 “Hey man, you okay?” Stiles asked.

 “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Hey umm, I was wondering if any of you guys had seen the way (y/n) was acting today after school?” 

 I had asked the question that was flowing through my mind before Stiles had snapped me from my train of thought, they all looked at one another as they shocked their heads then looking back to me.

 “She looked just fine after lunch.” Isaac said as he looked from Stiles to Scott “Why did something happen to her?”

 “Why would anything be wrong with her, I mean who would want to hurt her anybody here pays her no attention but us,” Theo said as he looked at the other boys and then back at Scott.

 “Most importantly, what happened man? What made you want to ask a question like that away?’ Stiles asked his best friend as he looked baffled towards the boys in front of him.

 “Well, I saw her grabbing her things out of her locker so I went to go talk to her before she left. When I got there, she was closing her locker and was going to head out the door until I stopped her by putting my hand on her shoulder.” I explained a few parts of what happened a few minutes ago until he took a deep breath and began to finish as the boys in front of him were so anxious to know what happened.

“Then, she turned around I asked her where she was going and all she did was look at me took my hand of her should and gently placed it on my side then walked out the front door without even saying a word to me.” I finished the story of what had occurred, Stiles, Liam, Theo, and Isaac all looked at each other with complete shock and utter confusion on their faces.

 “Well that doesn’t sound good, I hope she’s okay,” Liam said with a sad expression on his face.

 “Should we make sure she’s okay?” Isaac asked as he looked at the boys for an agreement.

 “Yeah, yeah we should,” Stiles said now determined to make sure his friend was okay.

 “And how are we going to do that, do you have her address?” Theo asked as he looked at Stiles with a grave expression on his face.

 “No.” Before Stiles could finish his master plan Scott jumped in saying what he wanted to say.

 “Theo’s right, how are we going to go check on her if we don’t know where she lives?” Scott asked as he waited for Stiles to give an answer.

 “I was going to tell you how before you interrupted me, the plan was that I was going to ask Lydia if she could help us get it since her mother works here and Lydia basically knows her way around her mother’s office so this should be easy,” Stiles said with a wide smile on his face until another idea popped into his head well more like an assumption.

 “But, before you say anything about that idea I have another.”

 “So, we have to options to choose from. Great I wonder what master plan this would be.” Theo said with annoyance.  

 “Shut up Theo, my dad has a new deputy his name is (Y/F/N) (L/N), my dad told me that he was transferred here from San Francisco just a couple of days ago when (y/n) was enrolled into school.” He said to them as they all looked at him with his crazy ideas.

 “How do we know if (y/n) could actually be his daughter?” Scott asked.

“Because, my dad talked to him last night and said that his daughter goes to our school and that it would be her first day there before we even saw (y/n) again, (y/n) has to be that man’s daughter and all we have to do is go to the police station and get the address to their house and then we can go down there and see her.” The rest of the boys looked at each other before they made their decision.

 “Okay, well go after the meeting and by the look of it, it seems that it’s about to start,” Scott said as all the boys turned around to see the coach yelling at the boys to sit down and to be quiet.

 Scott could see that Coach Finstock was looking for someone but he just doesn’t know who, the meeting did start and whoever Coach was looking for didn’t show so he knew that Coach was a little pissed.

 The meeting was finally over and it was now time to go find (y/n).

 (y/n) Pov

 I sat at my desk listening to music on my iPhone while I did my school work, I just couldn’t believe what those girls did to me at school.

 This seems to always happen to me and I hate it, all I should do is not talk to them boys ever again and they would leave me alone. It seems way simpler than it is but, the only reason why it’s hard is that they won’t leave her alone.

 I had finished her homework and put her playlist on pause as she went to the bathroom to wash her face from all the thinking she’s been doing.

 As I was looking at herself in the mirror she heard the doorbell ring and low voices and then there were footsteps walking up the stairs, the steps got louder as they then came to a stop at my door.

 There was a soft knock on the door and a soft voice that is led to be her mother “(y/n) sweetheart, there are some people here looking for you and they said that they really needed to see you.” She said with a soft smile that (y/n) could feel from behind the door.

“Okay mom, I’ll be out in a minute.” She said to her mother as she then walked away and walked back downstairs where the guest is.

 I looked at myself in the mirror one time and then decided to head downstairs to go see the people that were here for me or person.  As I walked I heard voices that could only belong to males as they chatted along with my mother.

 My dad wasn’t home because he had to do some late-night work of something, on the last step I could see the people perfectly. They were the boys that I had hanging out with at lunch, I wondered how the hell did they find out where I lived.

 They all looked at me with a smile on their faces as they all waved to her and greeted her with an “HI” and a “Hello”, I looked at them with a confused look on my face as I gave them a small wave.

 “Well, I’m going to leave you kids to talk.” My mother said with a smile as she went back into the kitchen to finish her cooking.

 I watched as my mom went back into the kitchen as I then looked at the boys and lead them over to the couch, when we sat down I began to ask them questions on how they found me or how did they know where I lived because, as I recall I never told anybody where I lived.

 “How did you guys find me?” I asked them as I looked between the boys that sat all around me.

 “Well, let’s just say that we have our resources in this town to find people, which now makes us look like stalkers,” Stiles said with this sarcasm tone that he has.

 “Never mind all that, the reason why we are here is that when I saw you in the hallway today at the end of school, you didn’t look the same as you did before.” Scott had told her as he looked at her with sincere and worried eyes.

 “Why do you guys care so much?” I asked them as I scrunched up my eyebrows as I looked at them to give me an answer.

 “Well, we are known for getting very attached to people we meet that we think is cool, smart, and funny this is nice and kind to others and the people around them,” Liam said as he reached over and held her hand as he spoke to her.

 “We’ll get too attached to the point where we are always looking for that person and making sure that person is alright and that they don’t have a bad day and that they are always smiling,” Isaac said as he smiled at me with that beautiful smile he has.

 “What, I’m you guys friend?” She asked with a smile and a blush that began to creep onto her face. The boys noticed her blush and they all “awe” at how cute it was.

 “Yeah, we're all friends. And If you’re having problems and need someone to talk to or even if you don’t want to talk where here for you.” Scott said as all the boys nodded in agreement.

 I smiled to myself of finally having someone to talk to instead of my parents because most of the time they just don’t understand.

 “Now, since all that is out of the way. Would you mind telling us what happened today after school?” Theo asked as he then grabbed a hold of my other hand.

 I thought I was thinking of how they would react to the information if she had told them that she was being bullied by their girlfriends and that they beat me up in the hallway during passing period and that they threatened me to stop seeing them and talking to them and that they stopped me from going to their practices and helping my cousin when he needs it. I knew that they wouldn’t believe me so I must come up with a lie that sounds true.

 “I just wasn’t feeling well that’s all, sorry for giving you guys false misinterpretation.” She said as she looked at them with a half-smile.

 She looked around the room and caught their facial expression, they all had this look on their faces that looked like they knew that I was lying but they didn’t say anything, all of them had that look except for Stiles who only nodded his head and said “Understandable.”

 Just then they all had a text message pop up on their phones at the same time, they all looked at their phones then back at each other and then looked at me as they all said they had to go. I stood up and walked them towards the door as they all gave me hugs and left out the door all except for one boy who was the last to leave which was Scott.

 He had looked at me with a smile as he walked over to me and grabbed my hand as he had placed something into it and closed my hand.

 “If you ever need to talk about something call me, okay?” he asked with a sincere look that he had on his face just a few minutes ago. I nodded my head and gave him a small smile, He did the same as he then moved in closer toward my face as he then kissed me on my right cheek.

 “See you later (y/n).” He said as he let go of my hand and walked outside and got into the car that they all drove to my house in.

 As they were backing out of my driveway, Stiles had honked his horn to me as they all waved at me, I smiled and gave them a wave back as they drove off and I closed the front door.

 I walked into the kitchen where my mom just had finished cooking and looked at me with a smile as she came over and hugged me.

 “So, what was that all about?” She asked as she held me in her arms.

 “I’ll tell you while we are eating,” I said as we both began to set up the table for us to eat.

 Next Day No POV

Next day, I did the same routine got took a shower, brushed my teeth, got dressed and went downstairs to eat breakfast and then applied some gum for a nice mint taste.

 My dad drove me to school early again, this time only the teachers were there. Nobody was on the field this morning I’m guessing that was just a one-time thing.

 So, I went to the boy’s locker room so I could explain to why I didn’t come to the after-school meeting with him.

 Walking into the gym and up to where the offices are, I opened the door to see nobody in there so I just decided to leave a note for my cousin that told him I will be there for him today for the practice. As I was about to leave the locker room Stiles came in with a few of his sports gear. Guessing he was going to put in his locker until he saw me.

 “Oh. Hey. (y/n), what are you doing in here?” He asked as he walked to his locker and put his stuff in there.

 “Oh, I was just looking for Bobby.” She said as she looked at him as he finished placing and locking his things into his locker.

 “Bobby? You mean Coach Finstock?” He asked as he walked closer to her as he then grabbed both of her hands and placed them in his.

 “Yeah, him.” She said as she looked down at their hands as she began to play with his and swing them from side to side.

 “Why would you be looking for him for?” he asked.

 “Because I had to tell him why I missed the meeting he had with you guys yesterday.” She said as she began to head out of the boy’s locker room.

 “Oh, so you’re the one he’s been looking for that day. Why?” He asked as he caught up next to her grabbing a hold of her hand again.

 “You sure do ask a lot of questions Stiles.” She said with a smile and a giggle.

 “What, can I say I’m just a very noises person.” He said as he shrugged his shoulders and smiled at her.

 “And very outspoken, I like it. And since you want to know so bad about why I wanted to see Bobby is because he is my older cousin.” She told him.

 Stiles looked at her with shock on his face as he looked at her and said, “No way.” She laughed at his facial expression.

 “Why is that so shocking to you?” She asked as she kept on laughing.

 “I don’t know, I guess it’s just kind of hard to believe that my coach has a cousin that is somewhat close to my age and that is going to the same high school as I do and not to mention that she is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in the past two years.” He told her with a smirk on his face as the girl in front of him blushed at the speech he just told her.

 “You think I’m beautiful?” She asked him as she was now looking at him in shock.

 “Yes, I do. In fact, you are way beautiful than every girl that goes here just makes me wish that I should have waited to before getting a girlfriend.” He told her as he leaned in close to her.

 As her back was pushed up against a locker and him trapping her in between him and the locker. “What do you mean by that?” she asked as she looked at him with wide eyes.

 “Because I could’ve had you.” He said as he caressed the right side of her cheek as his hand cupped around her neck just to her right ear and pulled her in closer to him as he kissed the left side corner of her lips.

 He pulled back enough to see that red face that she now had that made him smile and chuckle at the sight of it. As she tried to cover her face with the long sleeves from her sweeter.

 Just then he got a text on his phone, he pulled his phone out of his left pocket as he then placed his right hand on the right side of (y/n) hip and gave it a nice squeeze which made her blush and turns red even more.

 He looked at her after she read the text with a smile, He told her that he had to go meet up with someone and for her to give her phone to him.

 As she did he placed his phone number into it and did the same for his phone with her phone number into it.

 He then gave her phone back to her with a smile as he then pulled up the camera app as he then told her to look at him, she did as she was told and looked up at the camera as he took a picture of her in her blushing state.

 “Oh no, please don’t put that picture of me for my number.” She said to him as she tried to grab for his phone to delete the picture.

 “Okay, I won’t make this your picture, if you send me one that is to your liking. Until then I’m keeping this picture. You look adorable in it.” He said as he kissed her to check one more time as he began to walk away waving behind him with a smile.

 (Y/n) was left with a very red face in the middle of the hallway as she watched him leave. She soon then got a text from him that had a picture of him in it and with a text bubble that said.

 “Save this as my contact Photo in your phone.”

 She looked at the picture and smiled as she looked at it, she had to admit he is hot. She did what he said and saved the picture as his contact photo on his phone.

(y/n) then was feeling like someone was watching her, so she looked around for someone to be staring at her but found no one. So, she shrugged her shoulders and headed off to the library until the bell rang for her first-period class to start.

[melpomenecokr]

﹟ ♡  THIS MONTH IN MUSIC  :  APRIL 2019. 

♡♡♡

This month was surprisingly rich and eventful when musical releases are considered; I had a hard time picking my top five of the month, especially when a lot of great releases trickled in near the end. However, as many character flaws as I have, being indecisive typically isn’t one of them, so without further ado, here are my top five recommendations for the month of April. 

Before we get into it, though, I just want to say I know that I missed last month -- you guys won’t let me hear the end of it, and rightfully so. I won’t make a lot of excuses beyond there was a lot going on with work and in my personal life, but I’ll do my best not to miss another month again. March wasn’t that eventful anyway, though there were a few gems. If you’d still like me to talk about them at a later time, let me know.

Anyway, let’s get started. As always, all links for streaming and purchase will be included in each section. Please support these artists and their great music. 

#005. “THANKS (고맙다)” - DOUBLE SINGLE BY GEMINI (제미나이) RELEASE DATE: 06 APRIL 2019

Now, this may be a little shocking and possibly even upsetting to some of my readers, but I’m actually not entirely all-that-familiar with the whole Gemini situation, even if my younger sister is under their same company. All that went on while I was still in college,and trust me, I had a lot of drama of my own to sort through at the time, but the gist of what I knew before this release was that they were involuntarily put through a survival show where half the group got cut. Through my sister’s experiences, I know a little bit of what it can be like to be in a group; you literally spend every second of your time together and more often than not, the members get really close. The pain that event must have caused them is so tangible with this release, even three years after everything happened as it did, as the twelve of them briefly reunited to release these two songs. 

With that bit of background out of the way, “Thanks (고맙다)” consists of two songs; one with the exact same title and another called “Don’t Wanna Cry (울고 싶지 않아).” Both songs are Future Bass-esque tracks with modulated synth patterns and heavy beat drops, which I think is a unique pairing with such sad and emotional lyrics -- but it works well. In both cases, it really makes the listener feel the strength of their emotions, and it has the potential to generate this sort of bittersweet nostalgic feeling, which I find quite genius on the part of the arrangers and composers of these two songs; and sensibly, the members of Gemini themselves worked on every aspect of these songs together. It shows. 

For specifics, we’ll start with the title track, as it’s the first of the two that appears on the tracklist. “Thanks (고맙다)” is, in my opinion, the lyrically superior of these two tracks, so I’m glad to see it as the title. The chorus is so powerful both lyrically and musically that I got that lump in my throat as I listened, and even as someone who doesn’t know the entirety of their story, I really felt for these boys and all they had been through together, and apart. The general message speaks toward the regret they feel for not better articulating how much they cared for one another while they were together, so they take this time now to thank each other "even after all the waiting, all the longing, and all of our memories.” That’s a truly beautiful message, and I believe it may be encouraging to other groups not to take each other for granted, because you never know what your company will do with you, at the end of the day. 

“Don’t Wanna Cry (울고 싶지 않아),” while not as lyrically solid as its predecessor, is definitely the sadder of the two songs as you may have gathered from the title. The synths are used in a way that support the simple chorus so that the listener can feel more than hear how the events of the survival show have affected them. According to the album description, this song was actually written three years ago, right after the events of the show came to an end -- but they re-recorded and released it now that they have the chance. It definitely shows how their skills as lyricists and artists have progressed; this isn’t a bad song at all, don’t get me wrong, but I almost feel as though “Don’t Wanna Cry (울고 싶지 않아),” should have been first on the tracklist because the way it conveys a simpler, though sadder message. On this track, the members of Gemini are basically telling each other how sad they are to be separated, and how much they wish things could have been different -- but how, in the end, they’ll be strong for one another, and always there for each other, waiting to do anything they can, and for the chance to be together again. It almost seems like a love song, honestly, and I appreciate the emphasis on the vulnerability and the value these boys place on their relationship. It’s definitely something you don’t see a lot of boy groups doing. 

Listen to “Thanks (고맙다)” here and stream the music video here. 

#004. “RUSSIAN DOLL” - STUDIO ALBUM BY COLA RELEASE DATE: 25 APRIL 2019

I feel as though everyone has those artists that they know about and appreciate but don’t heavily “stan” so, ashamedly, some things fly under the radar. That’s Cola for me. I love to see more experimental and bold artists out there, especially male ones, because male artists in the industry tend to repeat and copy the same trends and styles and ideas and it gets stale really quick. But Cola always brings something fresh and new, and that’s what I can really appreciate about his music. I didn’t let “Russian Doll” slip through the cracks for me; as soon as I heard it had come out, I dropped everything and went to listen. And let me tell you, I was far from disappointed. 

As Cola’s fourth full-length album, “Russian Doll” consists of 12 tracks, with one title. As this isn’t an in-depth review of the album, I can’t talk about every song, but I’ll tell you now that all of them are worth your listen. The two I’d like to highlight are “Golden Age” and “Motherfucker,” and of course I have to talk about the title track, “Juice.” 

“Golden Age” is the first song on the tracklist, and I think this was done with incredible purpose. The slow progression of both the lyrics and the music together really sets the mood for the rest of the album, which takes you on this sort of rollercoaster of emotions and sensations. The lyrics are delivered with so much emotion that it can be easy to forget about the accompanying music, but the way the vocals are pushed to the forefront is actually really appropriate for a song like this, in my opinion, and the way the progression is paced sort of primes you for this huge bang that doesn’t actually come within this track itself, but that’s okay. An explosive bridge or a sudden change in tone would have felt weird with a song like this, and I like it as a standalone, but I think it’s supposed to lead you into the album, like the prologue of a story. On top of that, the deeply personal lyrics convey a theme of self-discovery and self-giving love, which is really sweet. As painfully single and alone as I am, this song really made me feel loved for four minutes. 

Remember that “bang” I just mentioned? That’s “Juice.” I was not expecting this energetic pop song right after “Golden Age” just plunged me deep in my feelings, but I think that’s what makes this song an even better experience than just listening to it on its own. As a pop connoisseur, I love everything about this song -- the high and light vocals, the disco-synth beat, the overt sexual innuendos -- it’s great. I can already see future-Melody in her skintight rainbow dress dancing to this in the gay bar after having too many sangrias, and I’m happy for her. I hope she gets juiced, too. 

The last song from this album I’d like to talk about is track seven, “Motherfucker.” And no, I don’t just like this song because I have a potty mouth, though that’s definitely a factor; the fact of the matter is that lyrically, this song is really something special. The lyrics are written and delivered in this short-of-breath kind of way that makes the song feel so simple and yet so passionate, and the way its so in-control of itself as a song is excellent. This song knows exactly what it is and Cola knows exactly what he wants to say, and how to say it. I feel like most will agree with me here, but the lyrics “do you really want me to write a feminist anthem? / I’m happy cooking dinner in the kitchen for my husband” sent me. There’s something so intrinsically feminist about that lyric, because its his choice. It’s not something he, or any person listening, should feel required to do because they hold a ‘submissive’ role in a relationship. But when it’s something you’re happy to do, regardless of what society says? That’s powerful. 

Listen to “Russian Doll” here.

#003. “OLD TOWN ROAD (REMIX)” - SINGLE BY LIL NAS X AND BILLY RAY CYRUS RELEASE DATE: 05 APRIL 2019

I know. Okay? I know. I am risking my credibility as a music journalist by putting this song in what is meant to be a serious review -- but hear me out. I’m more than willing to argue about why this song is unironically good all day long. As Lil Nas X says on the track himself, “Can’t nobody tell me nothin’.” 

The original “Old Town Road” came as 2018 was fading away (good riddance), and though it was pretty popular within the meme community as this fun and entertaining country-trap hybrid, it never really saw real status as a musical release. Lil Nas X was only 19 when he released it to SoundCloud, and as I’ve stated before, SoundCloud is not exactly the place to go if you want to find music of legit quality. Not always, at least. 

But when this remix hit the charts, everything changed. At first I didn’t even bother with it because I had listened to the original and while it served its purpose as a comical and light-hearted guilty-pleasure track, it wasn’t anything I was too invested in. Yet, as I’m sure any of you who have a twitter account are aware, this song was literally everywhere and was climbing the charts faster than anything I had ever seen before, so I gave in and listened. And, by god, this is among very few country songs I can actually enjoy -- and that’s saying a lot, as a country girl by birth. 

So, let’s get into why this song is so, so good. First of all, the arrangement is simple yet so effective, and the beat drop on the aforementioned “Can’t nobody tell me nothin’” chorus is borderline artistic. The way the vocals are synthesized and enhanced gives the song a completely different feel from its original, like something you can actually enjoy without feeling as though your best friend will side-eye you from the corner of the room (that is based on personal experience), and even if he did, you wouldn’t care. Admittedly, this song leaves a lot to be desired lyrically, but the simplistic rhyme scheme and Billy Ray Cyrus’ assertive and very iconic rap bring a joy to my heart that is nearly indescribable. 

My only complaint about this song is that it’s so short. At least one more refrain, or another verse would have been greatly appreciated since it feels like it stops so short, but that’s easily remedied by hitting the replay button. Not all songs have to be deep and thought-provoking to be good, and Lil Nas X deserved his big break with this infectious and spirit-lifting song he and Billy Ray Cyrus have brought us. 

Listen to “Old Town Road (Remix)” here. 

#002. “I LUV U” - SINGLE BY 5OGUE (보그) RELEASE DATE: 19 APRIL 2019

I felt somewhat depressed about missing my chance to review 5ogue’s sixth mini-album, “Mixed 6nals” last month, but as if they read my mind, they released an auxiliary single near the end of their promoting period to give me a second chance. (Side note: if you, my dear readers, are still interested in full a Mixed 6nals review, just let me know. I have a lot to say about that album.) They’ve actually done this before with their fifth mini-album, “Re:Covery” where they released “HXTE U” as a single as a gift to fans. I can only imagine how much work and planning goes into something like that, but 5ogue have shown themselves to be fiercely dedicated to their fans many times before, so I can’t say I’m surprised. 

Anyway, to be honest, I was kind of shocked when I first listened to this song because I thought I wasn’t too fond of it. I’ve stated many times before that I’m extremely picky with songs that have overly-repetitive lyrics because I feel like if they don’t serve a certain purpose, it’s just ear poison, but after my first listen I quickly released just how obsessed with this song I was, even if the word ‘like’ is said over 100 times. 

I don’t think I’m very susceptible to brainwashing, but the chorus went from being a little annoying to being infectious; I genuinely couldn’t stop listening to it because I couldn’t get enough, and the more I listened, the more the song grew on me. The chorus does most of the work for this track, and I think that’s where that ‘purpose’ i mentioned earlier comes in, because the verses are simple but are delivered in a way that center around the chorus and pull the song together perfectly. The message of being so extremely infatuated that it makes them physically and emotionally sick is conveyed in not only the lyrics, but the style and arrangement of the song itself, and that makes it so clever. They don’t glamourize that, either -- they show how unhealthy it is to think of someone that way, even if it can be sickeningly sweet. I love that. I luv that. 

5ogue have pretty much established themselves as the masters of Retro Pop, so the old-school-with-a-new-school twist aspects of this track come as no surprise, but rather as a nice brand that lets you know this is something they’ve created. And even if you’ve never been obsessed with another person to the degree this song expresses, the power vocals and smooth raps draw you in enough to invite you to their world, and to give you a taste of what its like. That’s brilliant to me, and 5ogue really stepped outside of the box with this song.

Listen to “I Luv U” here and stream the music video here.  

#001. “SUPREME” - EXTENDED PLAY BY WICKED! (위키드!) RELEASE DATE: 25 APRIL 2019

This may look like bias because, as many of you probably know, my sister is in this group. But, as many of you probably also know, I don’t really tend to let how much I like or dislike an artist influence my objective reaction to their music, so believe me when I say this album is number one because it’s amazing rather than my familial ties to it. 

Good? Good. 

That out of the way, let’s talk about “Supreme.” This is, by far, Wicked!’s best release to date and I’m not sure if they’ll be able to top it anytime soon. Every song on this mini-album was good, so much so that I struggled to pick which ones to discuss here at first, but after a long period of introspection I have settled on “No” and “Like It,” and of course we should at least briefly cover the other title track, “Kill This Love.” 

This album starts off with a bang, literally, as the heavy drum and trumpets of “Kill This Love” will actively scare the shit out of you if you aren’t expecting them. But, given this song’s disposition and very bold lyrics, I think that was more than intentional, as the girls discuss getting rid of a toxic and superficial love before it becomes something they can’t walk away from. Kimmy’s rap in this song is some of the best I’ve heard from her; the tumble-like flow and high-energy really adds to the overall message of this song -- that they’re strong enough to let go of something for their own good, even if they don’t necessarily want to do it on the surface level. The vocalists really came through on this song as well, and all the members really did their part to make this power anthem the great song that it is. 

Next up is “No,” one of my favourite songs to come out this year so far. This song actually distantly reminds me of “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred, with the low synths and dance-pop vibe it gives off, as well as the confident lyrics. Don’t get me wrong, though; these girls outsold those crusty white guys without any question concerning it. The chorus and Future Bass-like arrangement of it are so unique, and fuse with the idea of loving yourself and being confident in the things you like in an unexpected and yet perfect way. The bridge of this song is actually my favourite part, as it makes you just want to strut like a supermodel no matter what you’re doing or wearing. This song makes me feel sexy, independent, and free to do whatever I want, and I think that’s a common sentiment. It’s excellent work. 

Finally, I feel a begrudging need to talk about “Like It” -- and I have to say begrudging because, as fantastic of a song as this is, it’s really weird to hear my little sister sing about sexual sensations. But, we’re both grown women and I can look past that enough to tell you that “Like It” is one of the best songs on this incredible album, second to only “No,” in my opinion. The Dance-pop and R&B combination of this track is beautiful in terms of both its arrangement and how it fits with the sensual lyrics. Speaking of those lyrics, they’re pretty simple aside from the raps, but I think that’s perfect for a song like this because when you get to feeling so strongly about wanting to be with someone, you often can’t think straight. Maybe I’m giving the writers too much credit, but if that was intentional, it’s brilliant. 

Listen to “Supreme” here and stream its music videos here, here and here. 

Well, that’s all for this segment of This Month in Music. Be sure to tell me about your favourite songs of the month in the comments, and start a discussion about any of the points I’ve brought up today. I hope you enjoyed, and I helped you to discover at least one new song you love. ♡ 

[shenzhenblog]

China's Bull Market in Stocks Feels Somewhat Fake

The Year of the Bull.

It is official. Chinese domestic stocks are in a bull market. By this, I mean that the CSI 300 index, which combines the biggest stocks on the Shanghai and Shenzhen exchanges, is now up more than 20 percent from its recent low (more than 25 percent, in fact, after an exceptionally strong Monday). That satisfies the widespread definition of a bull market.

The idea that China is in a bull market implies that it is now in a prolonged and protracted upward swing. I would suggest that this be treated with great caution. First and most importantly, the following chart of the CSI 300 shows what happens when a silly definition meets a highly volatile and manipulated market:

As we can tell from the log scale, this is an abnormally sharp and accelerated rally, even by Chinese standards, but it is in no way unprecedented. And as should be obvious from a quick look, buying into each of these “bull markets” would not have been a great idea. The high for this index was in late 2007, and none of the so-called bull markets since then have managed to get it back to that level.

My greatest beef is with the definition. Labeling any gain of 20 percent a bull market is an over-simplification. Beyond that, we should note that the market is following the usual pattern after an epic bubble and bust, which is what the Chinese domestic markets saw in 2007. Normally, markets drop and then move sideways for an extended period of time, with plenty of gains raising hope, followed by declines that dash it again. That was the story in the U.S. after 1929 and Japan after 1989. We also have to note the specifics of Chinese markets, where the authorities do not have the ability to micro-manage the stock market. Several overshoots over the latest decade make that clear. But they can and do try to move the market. As trading is still retail-dominated, it remains an unusually volatile market.

There is signal in this latest rally, for sure, but there is probably more noise.

One trigger for all of this was a tweet by President Donald Trump, who said he had postponed the imposition of tariffs due for this week. That was certainly big news, but much of it was already reflected in prices. If you want to work out where the trade conflict will end, you will still need to do A) a lot of a game theory, and B) a lot of analysis of the mind of Donald Trump. The outcome is still uncomfortably binary and difficult to predict. There is certainly no way that a big gain in stocks in Shanghai could be driven by any knowledge of the likely outcome.

Instead, we have another reason for caution, which is the health of the Chinese economy. China’s internal dynamics continue to matter more than the trade situation. The following chart, produced by Chris Watling of Longview Economics in London, rams home that China’s economy appears to be slowing down (as measured by the producer price index), and that this has been a great leading indicator for U.S. inflation over time. For those who think that it was China that prompted the Federal Reserve to become more dovish, this should be Exhibit A:

All of these should give reason for caution. The stock market’s jump does not tell us that a trade war or an international economic slowdown have been averted. However, the crucial information that the stock market does convey is that it is convinced the authorities have abandoned their attempt to tighten credit and deleverage, in favor of another bout of desperate pump-priming. This Bloomberg chart shows how dramatically domestic credit expanded in the first month of this year. There are seasonal effects which mean that January is often a strong month, but the impact is undeniable:

Looking at a simpler measure, here is monthly new lending denominated in yuan. There is seasonality, and of course credit will grow as the economy expands, but the pattern no longer fits with a government anxious to eliminate an overhang of debt.

One lesson from the last decade is that the authorities can liven things up if they want to, and then when the government is in expansive mode, rallies can be far more dramatic than the one we have just witnessed. Such a rally is not necessarily one to hold for the long term, as yet another fiscal and monetary expansion at this point implies desperation. But it could be very painful for a professional money manager to sit such a rally out.

A note from UBS’s chief investment office gives more reasons to expect further monetary stimulus in the near future:

The People’s Bank of China’s quarterly report last week crystallized a more relaxed stance, with the word “neutral” disappearing from its policy description for the first time in a decade. We predict another 100bps to 200bps in reserve requirement ratio (RRR) cuts, with each 100bps releasing around CNY 1.5tn of liquidity into the financial system. Additional tax cuts and fiscal policies have yet to roll out, and may be announced in early March. 

Marc Chandler of Bannockburn Global Forex LLC suggests it is also important that there is a key Politburo meeting at the end of the week. “The focus is expected to be capital market reforms.  Securities firms were among the best performers today.” None of this sounds like the basis for a true bull market, but it does suggest that Chinese stocks could keep shooting up for a while before coming back to earth, much as they have done in several of this decade’s other “bull markets.”

One final strong point in favor of China’s bulls is that reasonable metrics suggest that valuations may finally have ground down to a defensible level. That is what is supposed to happen during the protracted bear markets that follow a bubble, and it looks like it may finally have played out in Shanghai and Shenzhen:

Against this, Chinese investors have proved impervious to value in the past, happy to sell when cheap and buy when expensive. And the market may look cheaper than it is because large state-controlled enterprises tend to have a big market cap and trade very cheaply (for good reason).

It is dangerous to fight the Chinese Communist Party when it is bent on priming the pump, but it is still too early to call this a bull market.

Brexit: Inertia Creeps.

We have had some big developments on Brexit in the last few hours. But first, some context. The House of Commons is caught in its own Groundhog Day over Brexit. Over the last month, there has been a lot of what might be called “Talk Talk” but nothing has been decided. The Commons has failed to vote for a second referendum or for an extension of its current deadline, under which the U.K. will leave the European Union, ready or not, on March 29. It has defeated motions supporting the deal to leave that Prime Minister Theresa May spent last year negotiating with the EU. No other deal is on the table, and there has been no sign of a breakthrough in the continuing talks between the U.K. and the EU. And May has yet again delayed the final “meaningful vote” that the Commons must take to authorize whatever deal is reached. Once scheduled for this week. that vote may now not happen until March 12.

Meanwhile, both of the main parties have suffered defections of MPs, several large employers have announced that they are leaving the U.K. or abandoning plans to make investments. This is a horrendous mess. As no single option commands a majority in the Commons, and quite possibly not in the country either, the result is a creeping inertia. For all the political activity, nothing has happened. Without some politician somewhere doing something and acting with great courage, the result will be a ”no deal” exit on March 29. Many in business, including those who support leaving the EU, believe this would be a disaster.

So what has happened to Britain’s embattled currency? Not much:

The mess at the moment is right at the worst end of anything that seemed possible on the day after the referendum back in 2016. And yet, the pound is not far from the top of its range on a trade-weighted basis since the referendum. I suspect that inertia is creeping into the market as well as into politicians. There are two broad reasons. The first is that Labour is being pummeled in public perception even more than the ruling Conservatives. Eight Labour MPs resigned last week. As a result, the odds of a Labour victory in the next general election are collapsing. These are the odds according to the Betfair betting site, as graphed by RBC Capital Markets:

Note that this graphic pre-dated last week’s defection of eight MPs to form a new “Independent Group.” The latest odds, according to the Betfair site, show Labour at 8/5 against to win the most seats. Given the current humiliatingly bad performance of the government, these are very bad figures. The Oddschecker.com aggregation site suggests that the odds of Labour’s Jeremy Corbyn becoming prime minister have moved like this since the last election:

The Labour leader is in dire political straits, but these odds seem low. Corbyn’s chance of becoming prime minister (a prize he does not necessarily win just by winning a plurality of seats) is less than one in five, according to the markets, having dropped with last week’s defections. Corbyn would be the most left-wing leader Britain has ever had, and I imagine that he himself would happily admit that his prime ministership would be bad for the stock market. So if Corbyn is messing up the opposition to Brexit (and he definitely is), then that is positive for U.K. assets in the medium- to long-term.

A second reason for the calm in the currency market is their virtual certainty that a “no deal” exit will be avoided. There is no time to agree to a new deal before March 29, so this can only happen one of two ways. One is that May’s strategy will work, and a majority in parliament will vote for her deal next month, knowing that the only other alternative is a “no deal” exit. This is the best idea May and her team have, and it looks absurd. Her first attempt to pass the deal through parliament was defeated by a majority of more than 200 votes.

The second option is for the March 29 exit date to be extended. The House has already voted down a proposal to do this, and the rest of the EU would have to agree, but this is certainly more plausible. Large numbers of Labour and Conservative MPs favor such an option. But time is now of the essence. This week, realistically, is the last week to try to make this happen.

That is why the latest developments matter so much. Corbyn has announced that he will campaign for a second referendum on Brexit if his proposed alternative deal does not get through parliament (which it won’t). As a referendum would take a while to organize, this would entail a delay, which the EU would surely grant. And in response, May is now said to be considering asking for a delay herself. These developments do now make a delay very likely.

A delay should be positive for the pound, but it is not as clear as all that. This is partly because, as RBC points out, the chances of a general election this year, which would be wide open and hype up uncertainty still further, have also shot up. This now seems more likely than an election in 2022, when the government’s five-year term expires, according to Betfair:

Secondly, it is far from a given that a second referendum would achieve a different result. Many Britons are furious with what is seen as European intransigence, and many voters will blame elitist politicians for going against the will of the people. This helps explain why Corbyn waited so long to take such an obvious gambit. A second referendum campaign would take the level of political anger to even higher levels.

A third reason is that the game theory is complicated – just as it is for the U.S.-China trade talks. Now that Labour is prepared to push for a second referendum, rebel Conservatives may be prepared to vote for the deal that May has on the table, rather than run the risk that they do not get to leave the EU at all. That deal would if anything reduce the U.K.’s sovereignty, and therefore thwart one of the key aims of those who argued for Brexit in the first place; but it would not be too alarming for the markets, as many aspects of the U.K.’s practical economic relationship with the EU would be unchanged.

Finally, and more worryingly, markets seem to be treating a benign outcome in which “no deal” is averted as a virtual certainty.  This can be seen from the way sterling has moved since the news from Corbyn and May has come out in the last few hours. There is a clear and sharp uptick – but traders had been preparing for it for a while.

This looks a little hopeful.  Lasting damage has been done to the U.K.’s economy and currency even if it avoids a “no deal” Brexit. According to Bloomberg News, Goldman Sachs puts only a 15 percent chance on a “no deal” exit ahead of the Corbyn news, while many in the currency community say that a delay to exit (which would virtually rule out “no deal”) is “priced in.” For comparison, Oddschecker.com tallies the odds on betting sites of a “no deal” exit at 36 percent. And just as a reminder, both the bookies and the investors sometimes get the U.K.’s tortured European politics very wrong. This is how Oddschecker.com put the odds of a Brexit victory in the referendum back in 2016:

Inertia can creep up on politicians, gamblers and investors alike. Sterling is still prone to a lot more downside.

Authers notes:

Retail Sales: It is hard to remember this, but the time since I last wrote one of these newsletters includes one of the biggest bona fide data shocks from the U.S. in the post-crisis period. Retail sales growth in December, announced late thanks to the government shutdown, was stunningly bad, and suggested that the Federal Reserve might even have been right to take a more dovish stance. Whenever a number is this surprising, and this different from the previous trend, it is reasonable to question whether it is a fluke. But this announcement created a scare for about 15 minutes, and was then explained away. For the record, this is what appears to be happening to retail sales in the U.S. It might be as well not to forget it:

Brazilian Priorities: The global investment community is desperate for a sign that Brazil’s new president can fix the country’s pension system, which promises far more than it can possibly deliver. It is a very serious issue. But everything should have its place, and we should make time for what matters most, which includes long-standing traditions and having fun with friends and family. Hence, this startling headline from a recent Citigroup’s note on Latin America may not be that alarming, even if it shows an ordering of priorities that might not be popular in western Europe or the U.S.:

Room for more QT: I find the following chart from Bianco Research very interesting. We discovered at the end of last year that stock markets are very scared of quantitative tightening, or QT, measures that reduces central bank balance-sheet assets swollen by previous quantitative easing, or QE, measures. Central bank funding is fungible. If any central bank is buying assets, that will affect risk markets the world over. And so when we view the total proportion of government bonds in the hands of central  banks worldwide, we can see that there has been very little QT so far.

The negative take on this is that it only took a teeny bit of QT to scare the markets out of their wits in the closing months of last year. But with even the Fed now apparently deterred from aggressive QT, the ultimate takeaway should probably be positive. To quote Jim Bianco: “Once all central banks synchronize and start reducing their balance sheets, dramatically higher interest rates might be a possibility. Currently, this is not close to happening.”

  Note : This article was originally posted in Bloomberg by John Authers

    China’s Bull Market in Stocks Feels Somewhat Fake was originally published on Shenzhen Blog

[preciousmetals0]

Quantum Investing; Beyond Retail; Wayfail; Shwedy Security

Quantum Investing; Beyond Retail; Wayfail; Shwedy Security:

A Quantum Leap

Today, dear readers, we take off our quarantine masks and put on our thinking caps. Well … figuratively speaking, at least. Keep those masks on for now, please.

Why our thinking caps? Because President Trump’s 2021 budget requests $237 million in funding for quantum computing. Roughly $25 million of that budget request comes directly from the U.S. Department of Energy — you know, the guys that helped bring us the internet 60 years ago?

While Trump’s budget still has a long way to go — i.e., through a Democrat-controlled House of Representatives — even he knows that quantum computing is the future of technology as we know it.

And that future is exceedingly bright, especially for investors who get in early.

That’s great, Mr. Great Stuff, real great. More spending on technology while we fight a virus? You’re starting to sound like Bold Profits. So, what is this “quantum computing” … and why should I care?

Why should you care? Hmm … because if we had quantum computers right now, we may already have a cure or vaccine for COVID-19. How’s that, Mr. Doubting Mustafa?

So far, everything you’ve ever seen, written, read or interacted with on a computer or the internet is made up of ones and zeros at its core. Get enough of these ones and zeros together, and you can publish a free e-zine on BanyanHill.com and deliver it to thousands of people on the internet.

But quantum computing? Now that’s a horse of a different color.

Quantum computing will change everything we know about computers, the internet, smartphones, cybersecurity, artificial intelligence (AI), health care, virus management … and even the weather.

It’s a complex topic that deserves a much more in-depth explanation if you’re into future technology. Though, I know you’re itching to hear the market side of things. (Quantum profits? In my portfolio?!) Tech investors, listen up…

The Takeaway:

Essentially, quantum computing is the next leap forward in our digital evolution. President Trump knows this, and it’s why he’s pushing for millions in new funding.

Now, your question should be: How do I get in on the emerging quantum computing mega trend?

I’m glad you asked! The answer is a lot simpler than you might expect…

Right now, only a handful of tech companies have the financial wherewithal to dive into quantum computing research in a meaningful way. Here are three to get you started:

Alphabet Inc. (Nasdaq: GOOGL): The Google parent always has a lot of goofy pet projects in the works, but the company’s quantum computing project is no joke. Codenamed “Bristlecone,” Alphabet’s new quantum computing semiconductor has 72 quantum bits, or qubits. These are the building blocks of quantum chips, just like bits are for current chips. The company leads the arms race in quantum computing power.

IBM Corp. (NYSE: IBM): Good old “Big Blue” built one of the world’s first successful quantum computers. While that computer has since been overshadowed by Alphabet’s Bristlecone, IBM remains at the forefront of developing a “commercial available universal quantum computer for business and science” … at least, according to the company’s quantum research page. A breakthrough in quantum computing could be just what IBM needs to return to relevancy in the data center and AI markets.

Intel Corp. (Nasdaq: INTC): You didn’t think the world’s original semiconductor behemoth would be left out of the quantum computing revolution, did you? Intel is already rolling out quantum semiconductors. Unfortunately, all of those chips need to operate at temperatures near absolute zero. That’s one hell of a cooling system. However, Intel is reportedly close to creating a 128 qubit chip, which would put it well ahead of Alphabet in the quantum processing race.

I know that’s a lot to take in … especially with our brains on autopilot after being locked inside for the past month. So, let me make this easier for you:

If you want expert, cutting-edge stock research on everything from AI to quantum computing, click here now!

The Good: Shwedy Results

In what should surprise literally no one, IT security and services firm, Check Point Software Technologies Ltd. (Nasdaq: CHKP) beat earnings and revenue expectations this morning.

This stay-at-home market has been a boon for Check Point, with the company beating Wall Street’s first-quarter expectations by $0.04 per share. Revenue of $486.5 million also topped the consensus estimate.

“Despite the COVID-19 pandemic, we sustained elevated business activity levels and delivered results in the upper half of our guidance with strength coming from the Americas,” said CEO Gil Shwed.

But, while the prior quarter benefited greatly from the new work-at-home economy, Shwed warned that “it’s hard to predict what effect this changing environment will have on the future.”

I get it. The future is hard to predict, especially right now. But, as long as this lockdown stays in effect, Check Point will continue to benefit handsomely.

The Bad: No Meat for You

“Stock rally + food service exposure + increased retail competition = downside risk,” says UBS analyst Steven Strycula. And you thought you were done with math today!

Strycula’s “new math” is in reference to Beyond Meat Inc. (Nasdaq: BYND). And, after BYND’s recent 100% surge, the UBS analyst believes now is the time to ditch BYND stock. He cut BYND from hold to sell and slashed his price target from $90 to $73.

In short, Strycula’s reasoning is that Beyond Meat has relied on restaurant deals to boost its bottom line. With practically every restaurant in the U.S. shut down, Beyond Meat will take a hit to its bottom line.

I admit that UBS has a point over the short term at least. Over the long term, however, the COVID-19 pandemic has the potential to change the eating habits of millions. As Great Stuff reported on Friday, CFRA Research told clients: “Most infectious disease outbreaks are transmitted from animals to humans.”

Furthermore, meat processing is shutting down around the world. You already know that China struggles with pork production. Now, we have Tyson Foods Inc. (NYSE: TSN) shutting down processing plants due to the virus.

These stories are clearly a short-term boost for BYND, driving investor sentiment more than the company’s bottom line. So, UBS isn’t wrong … for now. But the problems surrounding meat production amid COVID-19 give insight into Beyond Meat’s future. And that future is trending in the meatless wonder’s favor.

The Ugly: Way(Above)Fair Value

Remember when Wayfair Inc. (NYSE: W) reported a wider-than-expected quarterly loss, issued guidance far below expectations with negative quarterly margins?

Yeah, neither does Wall Street.

Wayfair stock has gone on a 400% bender since its Ides of March lows. But someone on Wall Street finally came to their senses.

Stifel analyst Scott Devitt responded to Wayfair’s insanity by downgrading the stock from buy to hold. According to Devitt, the stock passed his price target of $115 last week, and it’s time for a break.

Well … it’s not a resounding rebuke of the stock’s 400% surge, but I’ll take what I can get.

Wayfair’s main problem is that it has to spend — a lot — to stay fresh in consumers’ minds. The company directly competes with everyone from Amazon to Walmart … but it doesn’t have the same brand recognition.

In short, Wayfair’s revenue boost from online shopping amid the pandemic is eaten up by advertising costs.

I swear, I’m so tired of seeing Wayfair ads on Facebook. I can’t imagine how much this is costing the company … oh, wait, I can: negative margins.

The point is, Wayfair is nothing special. It offers products that you can find virtually everywhere else. The only reason it gets attention is because people can’t shop outside. As such, I fully expect Wayfair to see a sharp drop in sales once this lockdown is over. And that’s bad news for W shares.

Today’s Chart of the Week once again comes courtesy of Earnings Whispers on Twitter, with a whole lotta earnings season shakin’ goin’ on.

Hey, I can’t be the only one who gets excited about this kind of stuff. If you’ve never felt the brisk energizing action of corporate earnings, well, maybe you’re a more well-adjusted person than lil ol’ me.

Roughly 30% of the S&P 500 Index is set to report earnings this week, with more than a third of the Dow also spilling its beans. Not to mention, this week features the trillion-dollar tech titans face off. All eyes are on Amazon.com Inc. (Nasdaq: AMZN), a beacon of all online shopping supply chains, and Apple Inc. (Nasdaq: AAPL), bellwether of the “gotta get it now” crowd.

Google’s parent Alphabet already sowed doubts about its ad-dependent business slowing down. (And if you want to talk “we live and breathe ads,” why, Facebook Inc. (Nasdaq: FB) is just getting started … show me another Wayfair ad, I dare you, Zuckerberg!)

Here’s what else is kicking off this week:

AMD has yet another chance to upheave its consumer computer chip rival Intel.

Tesla Inc. (Nasdaq: TSLA) fanatics and traders alike will go ape-$#^! no matter what Elon Musk and co. end up reporting.

We hear from Spotify Technology S.A. (NYSE: SPOT), the streaming underdog and longtime Great Stuff Granted, I don’t think too many families are out there spending quarantine together around the radio. Guess I might as well huddle around to stream for Roosevelt’s fireside chats while I’m at it…

We get to see how much useless (or not-so-useless) stuff people have been buying on eBay.

It’s an all-airline affair with the best bailed-out buds, along with a look at how Boeing Co. (NYSE: BA) is holding up with the air industry’s collapse (plus, you know, its other production and PR debacles).

Finally, we round out the week with the Clorox Co. (NYSE: CLX) and Abbive Inc. (NYSE: ABBV) — two of Great Stuff’s stocks to beat the Wuhan virus … when we still called it that.

It’s sure to be a topsy-turvy week of earnings … but it’s not like you expected otherwise, right? Stick with Great Stuff and Banyan Hill, and we’ll help you dispel the earnings excellence from the hype and hogwash.

If you’re looking to venture out hunting for market bargains, just remember: You never have to go alone! Take a guide. They’re handy. They’ve been through choppy and unexpected markets before. And no matter what kind of earnings apocalypse we may be due for, you’ll want to keep your wits about you.

Click here now to find your guide.

That’s a wrap for today, but you can always catch us on social media: Facebook and Twitter. We hope you’re staying well out there!

Until next time, stay Great!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Editor, Great Stuff