#might have to make it black out poetry y'all

[angrypedestrian]

My good pal @explosionshark tagged me asking my top 5 impactful bands/artists, and I am happy to oblige. These are vaguely in chronological order, but also time is soup, so.

1. Sum 41 - This could probably be swapped with Simple Plan or Good Charlotte too, but I think Sum 41 is the least embarrassing (?), so we'll go with that. But basically they were my introduction to pop-punk and, like, subculture in general. I was 12/13-ish when All Killer, No Filler came out, and Fat Lip alone got me out of a rut of just listening to country music and whatever was on the radio, and made me start having my own opinions about what music I wanted to listen to outside of what was being played AT me. And from there it was a direct line to stuff like AFI, and then eventually emo and everything else in its wake.

2. Saaa - You may recall, one of my biggest Brands is being a ska lover and appreciator. It all starts with Saaa. They were a group of kids from my high school (I went to a school with an insanely successful marching band, we subsequently had A LOT of ska bands with really talented horn sections), who were seniors when I was a freshman, and they were the first actual show, not A Concert, that I went to. I had so much fun dancing with my friends, learning to be in a pit, learning that music can be a real community, not just listening to stuff on your CD player alone. Honestly there may not be a more impactful band for who I am now and what I stand for. The link for this one is from my personal google drive, because I have carted the three Saaa demo mp3s I have with me from computer to computer for almost 20 years. They are one of my most prized possessions, and if I ever lose them, I WILL cry.

3. Circle Takes The Square - My memory is terrible, so I may be wrong about this, but CTTS was the first heavy band that made me actually, seriously interested in heavy music. I liked Slipknot and Linkin Park and shit when I was a kid (and don't get me wrong, they still rule), but it was very surface level angry teen stuff. CTTS was my gateway into understanding why screamo and hardcore and things on that side of the spectrum were actually good. As you may recall I grew up in ground zero for militant vegan straight edge hardcore, and all those dudes were so FUCKING annoying so I dismissed several whole genres of music in the process of hating them. But I was wrong about that, hardcore and screamo and metal all are good, actually. Also, my first tattoo was a lyric from Crowquill. But I was 18 and definitely misconstrued a line that was sarcastic as being sincere. Whoops! It is large and dark and takes up a whole inner bicep, double whoops!!!

4. Team Dresch - This is the one that changed everything, like really and truly. Team Dresch was my intro into queercore, and inspired me to start Fuck Yeah! Queer Music over a decade ago. I found Team Dresch as a newly gay punk kid who loved to be a pretentious little shit about being into 90s emo, and learning that there was a band of queer women making the music all the bands full of cis men I loved to listen to (and making it better!!) blew my mind wide fucking open, and I haven't looked back since. Personal Best is one of my most listened to records, and I still can't believe sometimes that I have gotten to see them twice! If you're gay and punk and play in a band, you probably have Team Dresch to thank.

5. RVIVR - I don't know how to put into words how important RVIVR is to me. Suffice it to say, this is a band that actually kept me from killing myself in a very very real way. I wouldn't be here typing this without them, and I miss them every single fucking day. But as long as I can hope that maybe one day I'll get to see them one last time, I'll be here. (Fun fact: not only are they the only band I've seen twice in one day, I've seen them twice in one day on two separate occasions! Second fun fact: I also saw them one (1) week after I got top surgery and still had my drains in! That was stupid, but I'm glad I did because it was the last time I ever got to see them)

(Gotta give an honorable mention to Ace of Base though, my first favorite band, whose first record came out in the US when I was 5 or 6, and it was the first cassette I ever owned. I listened to it CONSTANTLY and it is absolutely the reason I am gay today).

Curious to hear anyone else's top five influential bands or albums! @pivitor @piratejenne @unsungfury @whatthehelliswrongwithhim pop to mind, but truly anyone else reading this I love hearing about shit like this from people.

[bookshelfmonkey]

Thanks for the tag @storkmuffin :)

Are you named after anyone? Not my first name, which I just chose because I liked it, but one of my middle names is Bowie (as in David Bowie).

When was the last time you cried? A couple of weeks ago, when I was feeling completely overwhelmed by the state of trans rights globally and especially in the UK (where I live) and the ongoing tragedies happening as a result. (Sidenote: it's weird to me how little I've cried since starting T, I used to cry multiple times a week and now it's every few months)

Do you have kids? No.

What sports do you play/have you played? I swam for about 6-8 years as a kid but always kinda hated it, and eventually quit when the dysphoria became too much. I did football and badminton on and off too, but was never really good at anything (asthma & possible dyspraxia & hypermobility etc.). Now I'm trying to run and work out mostly just to stay healthy. I'd like to get back into swimming but can't really afford to go to a pool regularly and I'm scared to go by myself. I also go to a lgbtq+ football club weekly when I'm in my hometown (my friend started an under-18s one which I used to do too and it was pretty much my only positive experience of sports).

Do you use sarcasm? Rarely, and only with close friends where we mutually joke like that with each other.

What's the first thing you notice about people? I actually don't know. I think most of the time I'm too caught up in the anxiety of meeting someone new that I'm more focussed on myself.

What's your eye colour? Bluey grey.

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I'll watch some scary movies but sometimes they just make me too anxious to enjoy them.

Any talents? I can read pretty quickly with good comprehension (I like to take my time when reading for fun, but as an english lit student who always has a fuck ton of essays and shit to read, it's handy), I can bake really good gingerbread, and I'm weirdly good at immitating people's walks (the same way some people can do voice impressions).

Where were you born? A small city in south west england (not saying more than that for safety/privacy).

What are your hobbies? I read (a lot); I write fiction, poetry, book reviews & TV show reviews (see pinned post on where to find some of these); I embroider and sew; I enjoy baking and cooking but don't do it much atm because I don't like my flatmates so I spend as little time as possible in our kitchen where I might see them; I like going for walks but it can be difficult to get out into nature without a car (ironically) and sometimes I just solve number puzzles/do maths for fun.

Do you have any pets? Yes, this idiot (affectionate). Technically she lives with my parents, but still. Her name's Pepper and she's a generic black cat (it's hard to work out breeds of cats and she's an adopted former stray so there's no breeding history or whatever).

How tall are you? 1.72m

Favourite subject in school? It alternated between english literature and maths.

Dream job? Author/forest wizard/please don't make me enter the workforce (I'm a uni student atm)/I don't know what I want to do with my life.

@yourlocalcorvidcryptid @autisticfordprefect @feral-enfield-with-wifi sorry if any of y'all have already done this and I missed it.

[oh-hush-its-perfect]

okay guys so there's this tv show i started watching recently and it kind of feels like it's queerbaiting but i'm not sure because it's a reality show, so, like, these are real people I'm talking about. the show is called "Make It Big," and it's about aspiring artists. let me describe the parts i think are queerbait-y and y'all can give me your thoughts.

so one of the guys on MIB is named taylor, right? taylor is an author and poet, and sometimes his work is featured on the show. the thing is that he writes a lot of love poems but the gender of the person it's addressed to is usually ambiguous. and taylor has had plenty of female love interests and written stuff about those relationships, but there are other works that almost seem to be about his (ex) friends???

for example, he's got this one former friend— and they had a falling-out, but it happened off-screen so no one's really sure what happened— who is obsessed with Wuthering Heights. Like, he has a tattoo of Catherine and Heathcliff, and his social media accounts have some reference to Wuthering Heights in the url. After the two had their falling out, taylor wrote a poem using Wuthering Heights as a metaphor for a failing relationship?? and like. he even mentions "green eyes" in the poem, and this friend has green eyes? like i know it's nothing solid, but it's just a little suspicious.

but even more, taylor used to have this friend named charlie, and the two of them were SUPER close. like they were roommates at one point. and they too had a falling out (again, off-screen). then taylor wrote a poem that specifically mentioned something that the two did together: "I drew a heart on your wrist in Sharpie." and i'm sitting here like, taylor literally drew a heart on charlie's wrist, like, three episodes ago. there are other things, too, like how the two of them were photographed kissing at a concert?? but the show never brought this up, and never clarified one way or another if they were in a relationship??? there are a bunch of other things in taylor's love poetry and short stories that seem to allude to charlie, too, but nothing is ever direct.

then, like a long time later, taylor performed a slam poem about gay rights while dressed in the bisexual colors (blue jacket, purple shirt, pink pants), but when asked why he chose to do that, he said that he just "respect[ed] the community a lot" without saying whether he was part of it or not. btw, a bunch of the proceeds from that episode went to the Trevor Project.

not long after that episode aired, it was time for a pride episode, and this one famous designer posted a picture of a rainbow suit and captioned the picture something like "you'll never guess who on Make It Big is going to be wearing this in the new episode!" then, when the episode aired, this other character Lainey, who we HAVE KNOWN WAS A LESBIAN SINCE THE EPISODE IN WHICH SHE FIRST APPEARED, was wearing the suit. The problem was that part of the suit was body-colored mesh that would only work with someone who had fair skin. Lainey is black, and the suit didn't fit her properly. Somebody posted a tiktok about the situation a while ago theorizing the outfit had been made for taylor instead, and the guy who designed the suit dueted the tiktok drinking a cup of tea.

there has also been some gender stuff in taylor's poetry? like, for example, he wrote a poem called "The Two of Us are Maidens," in which the speaker was presumably himself. He's also written "from the perspective of women," like in the poem "Tommy," where he waxes poetic about kissing a man.

the nail in the coffin for me was him writing in a poem that he "used to love a friend of Dorothy." for anyone who doesn't know, "friend of Dorothy" is a queer dog whistle meaning "queer person."

but there's been even more questionable stuff. these are just some examples. so, like, I assume he's bi.

Meanwhile, other people in the (small) fandom get really upset at people who think taylor might like guys, saying that it's an invasion of his privacy and assuming anyone's sexuality is weird— even though they all assume he's straight.

what do y'all think? is this queerbaiting?

[notliteralfingerfood]

Food for Thought #1 - I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAND ♫ ♪

Midoriya Izuku and Shigaraki Tomura are foils to each other + the endgame matchup.

Deku is set up to save Shiggy, reaching out when no one did.

Shiggy is likened to the first OFA user, Yoichi.

I'm aware of all these things and yet I can't help thinking about the what-if scenario where Shiggy refuses Deku's hand. Instead, he takes somebody else's.

But who? Who aside from Deku could possibly (1) have some experience in the art of hand-holding and (2) is willing to offer their hand to their "worst enemy" rival?

"He's coming - the star of the show!" (Kirishima, 2021)

The recent arc (Chapter 310, especially) made me think about Bakugou's role in the story. His endgame has always been left ambiguous, though Hori-sensei did leave some potential hints/clues if you squint really hard. But before going to his future, let's revisit a past turning point in his arc:

KAMINO INCIDENT. At the time, I was that part of the fandom who thought that Bakugou will "save" Shiggy during his stay with the LOV. What clownery, right?

Nevertheless, I noticed that these two are quite similar (like how Deku is w/ Shiggy, they look alike as kids jfc).

They have this dangerous + hand-related quirk motif going on and they're both emotionally constipated red-eyed edgelords who love the color black and biting people.

An AfO/future OfA user extended a hand (offering help) to both of them - one accepts the hand because no one would help him, the other rejects it because he doesn't want anyone's help. Whatever the case, how they responded to the hand led them to where they are now (PAIN).

(Baku rejected Deku's hand but accepted Kiri's. So does that mean Shiggy will reject Deku's hand and accept---)

Hori's hand-holding fetish aside, the parallelism doesn't end there.

COUNTERPARTS.

Shigaraki Tomura and 1st OfA user (Shigaraki Yoichi)

THEY LOOK THE SAME (sans the crusty skin)

tormented by respective family members

given a quirk by AfO

then locked away (mentally or physically) by the same monster

Bakugou Katsuki and 2nd OfA user (aka Baku-Ni)

THEY LOOK THE SAME (sans the sexy scar)

win or lose mentality

got offered/offered a hand (Deku; Yoichi)

having stepping stones (Deku, the pebble on the side; vigilante group against AfO, the sacrifices)

then becoming stepping stones themselves (the 2nd holder made passing OfA possible and paved the way for the following successors; Baku made Deku having OfA possible when he triggered Deku's desire to save, and his act of heroism was recognized by All might during the Sludge Villain incident)

(This further cements why I love Ground Zero as his hero name. I like Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight coz it's so him, but GZ has so much meaning - "the very beginning; a starting point or base for some activity". Kacchan started the fire y'all.)

Okay I'm going off tangent, anyway---

So yeah, they are similar in some ways, but what is the point?

THE ROLE OF BAKUGOU'S HAND

"Heroes and villains are two sides of the same coin. So what is it that really makes someone a hero?"

For the light novels, some characters were featured on the special covers, each accompanied by a particular virtue/value.

Bakugou got righteousness, something I found fitting for his character. He has high moral standards and a strong willpower to back it up (unwavering convictions). Most would see that he brings justice by beating villains, "win to save", whereas Deku is more on the "save to win", redeeming villains - perfectly balanced, as all things should be. Bakugou eventually learned the other spectrum, and now he's on his next step: manifesting compassion and empathy.

"The hands are generally called the extension of the self. So when you give your hand to another person to hold, you are really extending yourself. When you reach out to another person, the process of discovering the self becomes easier. You realize that you share a common humanity—that other people mirror your own strengths and weaknesses, dreams and aspirations, and even the things you value."

I think this would be Bakugou's answer to giraffe man Best Jeanist on what makes someone a hero. Just as Baku-Ni showed compassion and saved Yoichi - someone related to AfO, his archenemy, our Bakugou may also show empathy and save Shigaraki - someone affiliated with AfO, and also the one to order HIS kidnapping.

As @class1akids mentioned (I love their semi-crackpot theory, please check it out), Bakugou extending his own helping hand (out of pure compassion) could be his possible role in the endgame - the winning condition.

I just... ugh I just want everything going full circle.

Bakugou and Deku are the Wonder Duo. They're in to win it - so when one messes up, the other cleans up the mess. If Deku can't save Shigaraki, Bakugou will be there to back him up.

Baku initially refusing Deku's hand and becoming his tormentor, then growing up and offering his OWN hand to Shiggy, one of his OWN tormentors - fcking poetry my dudes.

And that's it, thank you for coming to my TED talk, byeee!!

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.  

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.  

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.

[delvalentine]

Hello! Can I have a romantic matchup for tears of themis please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child.

Thank you!

vyn richter

vyn has an ambiguous moral compass that would allow the two of you to be more compatible than with the others who are more goody two-shoes type. he has an extensive understanding of the human psyche and doesn't need you to explain yourself; he just gets you.

he finds your dream log fascinating, and also respects that you don't fear nightmares. often times the two of you might get together for tea and discuss the meanings, having actual conversations instead of just "how are you" "good" and letting it die there.

vyn is an academic and would welcome debate with you. instead of getting hostile or making it seem like fighting, the debates would be properly intellectual. he would quietly try to motivate you as well, perhaps baking your favourite treat, and being cruel enough to withhold them until you get something done. in turn, he needs to you balance out his seriousness, introducing him to new standards of life he dismissed earlier.

[seanwinchester]

(Finally got around to do this!!)

Was tagged by @canthearyouoverthesoundofcanon, thank you! ❤️

Don't know who or how many people I'm supposed to tag so I'm just gonna tag people from whom I enjoy the content : @alwaysthrowsscissors, @aborddelimpala, @wendigosam, @fandom-hoarder and @thelegendofwinchester ! (only if you're interested/haven't done this before ofc)

Nickname : Ariane. that's just my name, I don't really have a nickname (except for like Satan/Saturne with my 2 bffs but nobody ever uses them orally lol)

Height : 1m62 (= 5.3?)

Last movie I saw : a cheesy Christmas movie on the TV that I don't know the name of, but last movie I actually decided to watch : Silent Hill, and it was awesome! The visuals and creativity are truly incredible.

Favorite musician : tough question, I don't think I have one.

Song stuck in my head : abcdefu by GAYLE (damn you tiktok)

Other blogs : @yourdumbdevil which is my main and first ever tumblr blog that I created in 2014. It started as mostly French content, which lots of quotes, aesthetics, and shitty poetry (lol). Now it's mostly in English (probably because all the French mutuals I had at the time are now long gone) and a mess of memes, shitposts and anecdotes, with a side of multifandom content– other than spn.

Blogs following : I follow 179 blogs, but I never went back to check that so a lot of them must be inactive by now. And 99 ppl follow me on this blog! Wow I think it's awesome! we're nearly 100 guys 😳 And I love interacting with y'all ❤️

Amount of sleep : on weekdays usually around 6 hours (which is not good) and on weekends it varies a lot, I don't count

Lucky number : idk, 9? Or 3? I like odd numbers in general. (fun fact about me : I'm always confusing 9 with 4, don't ask me why)

What am I wearing : comfortable stay-at-home pants, socks, a t-shirt and a black sweater with a skeleton on it

Dream job : no job :) I wanna make artsy stuff in general and I love languages and cinema, but I don't know what to do with that. (I always joke with my friends that if I don't find out I might just become a lumberjack in Canada, and you know what? Maybe I will)

Languages : French, English, and a couple words of German and Italian.

Play an instrument : nope! Plus I have no musical ear and/or sense of rhythm whatsoever and it's tragic 😅

Favorite song : can't choose one!

Random fact : I'm a sucker for tomatoes! 🍅 Like this is literally so good, it's a religious experience for me (the good and juicy ones ofc, not the supermarket tasteless ones). Actually my favorite dish is my mom's tomato pie, that she used to cook for me growing up, and which I make myself now.

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Songs that make me think of the Marauders (PART TWO)

(part one)

Everything Happens For A Reason (Madison Beer)

Remus, after the Prank, completely heartbroken and completely confused… when did Sirius stop loving him in that sweet, gentle way he’d always promised to?

When did Sirius start seeing him as the monster he's always sworn Remus isn't?

I used to believe That everything happens for a reason But I just can't find a reason You'd wanna hurt me so bad

Can't get no relief Time moves on with the seasons But I still can't find a reason You'd wanna hurt me so bad

And what in the world did I do to deserve such a pain in my heart? Guess it's true I'm never getting over you

I still love you I still want you I still love you

If You Love Her (Forest Blakk)

This is the song Sirius and Remus play during their first dance. Fight me.

She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment She loves her whole family and all of her friends So if you're the one she lets in

Kiss her with passion as much as you can Run your hands through her hair whenever she's sad And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over, so she never forgets

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have On days when it feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She'll love you if you love her like that

cowboy like me (Taylor Swift)

Sirius and Remus go on the run together after James’ death. Not at first - they meet up in a bar about three months after. But after that three months they’re inseparable again - desperately in love, playing Robin Hood, driving a blue Mustang into the sunset - they’re miserable, sure, but they’re also very good at pretending they’re not.

And you asked me to dance But I said, "dancing is a dangerous game" Oh, I thought, this is gonna be one of those things I've got some tricks up my sleeve Takes one to know one You're a cowboy like me Never wanted love, just a fancy car Now I'm waiting by the phone

Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward, only if they pay for it You're a bandit like me, eyes full of stars Hustling for the good life Never thought I'd meet you here It could be love We could be the way forward, and I know I'll pay for it

And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to mess this up And the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one And the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town But that was all before I locked it down Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon With your boots beneath my bed Forever is the sweetest con

And I'm never gonna love again I'm never gonna love again

no body, no crime (Taylor Swift)

Sirius Black’s soulmate, James Potter, is dead. And Sirius knows who did it.

He just can’t prove it.

(I rewrote it for y'all. You're welcome.)

Cell Block Tango (from "Chicago")

The Dark Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Severus, and Regulus - performing uselessly sensual dance routines in Azkaban because why the fuck not? Their Dark Lord is dead, and all they have left of him is their loyalty and a bout of snakes and skulls on their arms.

(Wrote this one too. Again, you're welcome.)

Broken Bones (KALEO)

Remus Lupin is a werewolf, and every full moon, this song runs through his mind as James and Sirius envelop his naked body in their arms and tell him he’s beautiful, and so so good, and they’ll love him forever and ever and ever, they promise. And for a single, measley second every time, Remus believes them.

Hoping things might go my way Some might say I talk loud, see if I care Unlike them, don't walk away from my fear I've busted bones, broken stones, looked the devil in the eye I hope he's going to break these chains

Another hard day, no water, no rest I saw my chance, so I got him at last I took his six shooter, put two in his chest He'll never say a word no more The devil got him good for sure

Ain't got no place to call a home Only chains and broken bones Ain't got no place to call a home So come on lord, won't you take me now? So come on lord, what you waiting for?

Oh, the devil's going to make me a free man The devil's going to set me free The devil's going to make me a free man The devil's going to set me free...

traitor (Olivia Rodrigo)

Sirius is innocent. Remus believes that. Remus knows that. He knows it. Because he doesn’t know how he’ll live if he’s wrong. Well, okay, he knows -

He won’t.

Brown guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse I kept quiet so I could keep you

And ain't it funny how you ran And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Ain't it funny all the twisted games All the questions you used to avoid?

Ain't it funny? Remember I brought her up, and you told me I was paranoid

You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt Loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter

God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you When she's sleeping in the bed we made Don't you dare forget about the way you betrayed me

Never Not (Lauv)

The Marauders, slowly breaking apart over the years. James and Lily settle in London, and Sirius and Remus run off to travel the world. They split off somewhere in Asia and forget to call. Peter cleans dishes in Hogwarts’ kitchens and Severus spends his time in those dungeons, teaching potions and writing letters he never sends. Regulus holes up in Grimmauld Place, never marrying, never moving. James and Lily divorce when Harry is ten, and go their separate ways. They always move forward, but -

They also always look back.

I lost myself, seventeen Then you came, found me There's a room in my heart with the memories we made Took them down but they're still in their frames There's no way I could ever forget

For as long as I live, and as long as I love I will never not think about you From the moment I loved I knew you were the one And no matter whatever I do I will never not think about you

What we had only comes once in a lifetime For the rest of mine, I'll always compare To the room in my heart with the memories we made Nights on fifth, in between B and A

Didn't we have fun? Didn't we have fun, looking back?

We were so beautiful We were so tragic No other magic could ever compare...

Scared To Live (The Weeknd)

Sirius and Remus after twelve years apart, having no idea what to do with each other. They were in love once - are in love? - but those days are long gone. Sirius sees how Remus looks at Tonks, but knows Remus can’t ever really love her, much as he likes her, because his heart has forgotten every word but Sirius' name. And Sirius is happier than he thought he’d ever get to be without James, really, though he’s far from happy or even content - is this all there is? Is this how they die? Is this their ending?

No. No. No, after everything, this can’t be it - this cannot be it.

(But if he dies, well... he hopes Remus lives on without him. Happier.

I guess.)

When I saw the signs, I should've let you go But I kept you beside me And if I held you back, at least I held you close Should have known you were lonely

I know things will never be the same Time we lost will never be replaced I'm the reason you forgot to love So don't be scared to live again Be scared to live again No, don't be scared to live again

You always miss the chance to fall for someone else Cause your heart only knows me They try to win your love, but there was nothing left They just made you feel lonely

I am not the man I used to be Did some things I couldn't let you see Refused to be the one who taints your heart

I hope you know that I've been praying that you find yourself We fell apart, right from the start I should have made you my only

So don't be scared to live again I said, "don't be scared to live again"

I Know Where I've Been (from "Hairspray! Live")

Remus and Sirius, sad and happy together, alone in Grimmauld Place and dancing deep into the night as this song plays on the record player and they sway. Their whole lives have been war, but in these moments, there is peace.

Fleeting, hopeless peace, but peace nonetheless.

There's a light in the darkness Though the night is black There's a light burning bright Showing me the way But I know where I've been

There's a cry in the distance It's a voice that comes from deep within There's a cry asking why I pray the answer's up ahead Cause I know where I've been

There's a road we've been travelling Lost so many on the way But the riches will be plenty Worth the price we had to pay

There's a dream in the future There's a struggle we have yet to win And there's pride in my heart Cause I know where I'm going And I know where I've been

Brooklyn Baby (Lana Del Rey)

Sirius Black being himself, and James Potter and Remus Lupin being in love with him.

They say I'm too young to love you I don't know what I need They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies

I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice, I freeze I'm churning out novels like Beat poetry on Amphetamines

Well, my boyfriend's in a band He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed I've got feathers in my hair I get down to beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything I'm a Brooklyn baby

They say I'm too young to love you They say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see

But I'm free I'm free

I'm talking about my generation Talking about that newer nation And if you don't like it, you can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it Cause I don't have to fucking explain

Yeah, my boyfriend's pretty cool But he's not as cool as me Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby

I Can't Go On Without You (KALEO)

Sirius and Remus are lost to each other, for twelve years and then two more, Sirius locked behind bars and then a Veil and Remus on the run alone and then with a woman he’s somehow fooled himself into thinking he loves.

They’ll be together again. One day. But for now, there’s nothing to do but wait.

Alone.

Well, they thought they were made for each other Only thinking of one another Never thinking just for one second She would take a different attraction

We don't want that We don't want that, oh no I can't go on without you

Oh, so what's the point of breaking my sweet heart? She wanted me to let down my guard Well, you know what they say It's better that way So, you better hush and walk away

Well, was I supposed to wait for you sweetheart? And hide away the shame, yes I keep it all inside Though the thought had crossed my mind! To do all the things I'll regret, we don't want that

I can't, I can't, I can't go on without you I can't go on without you, oh, lord I can't go on without you, babe

Oh, she loves me She loves me not She loves me My love don't love me...

Oh, so what is left but a broken man? Cause nothing hurts like a woman can I can't go on without you...

happier (Olivia Rodrigo)

Sirius as he watches Remus fall in love with Tonks right in front of him, unable to love Sirius the same way after everything. Sirius loves his cousin - he does. He just kind of hates her, too.

There’s been a lot of things in this life he’s been afraid of, but Remus leaving him never even crossed his mind.

That was his mistake, I guess…

Fuck.

You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was attached For all the sunlight of our past But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm picking her apart Like cutting her down make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind, she probably gives you butterflies

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, just not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.

That's The Kind Of Woman (Julia Michaels)

James left Sirius for Lily, and that was okay. Sirius loved Lily, and he loved James, so it was okay. At least he still had Remus.

Well, he did. Until Tonks came along.

It’s okay. Really. Sirius has gone his whole life feeling unloved.

He can die that way too.

OR

James, Sirius, and Remus fell in love in fourth year, and it was wonderful. And then Sirius started to notice things - small things, little things. Like the gentle way James and Remus are with each other, the way they wake each other up with kisses in the morning and dance the night before the full moon, the way their hands fit together the way everyone expected Sirius’ to fit with them, but better.

The way they love each other more than him.

And that’s okay. That’s fine. He wants them to be happy, and they make each other happy. So he lets them go the last day of seventh year, and disappears into the wind never to be seen again, just like their love for him.

Childhood picket fence, smells like confidence Raised with a little more common sense Isn't always on defense Sits up straight and knows how to take a compliment Jealous but the right amount Isn't scared of missing out, missing out's scared of missing her Doesn't buy things to fill voids Doesn't hate the sound of her own voice

Doesn't cry when someone leaves Isn't contradictory Mind takes a break when she falls asleep Always takes her own advice Crosses T's and cuts her ties Figured out sympathize from empathize Doesn't keep those letters in a drawer Doesn't keep a closet full of things she bought and never wore Gives all her attention to the people that are with her She still loves to dance She still loves her sister

If the me I am Walked out that door Would I miss her?

Maybe, a little bit, sure Oh, I love myself, but I'd love her more Yeah, that's the kind of woman I'd leave me for

Quarter Past Midnight (Bastille)

The Marauders steal a Muggle’s pick-up truck and fly down the highway, literally. The lights are bright and the music is loud, and they’re screaming with laughter, dancing and kissing under the stars. It’s that one perfect moment, the one poets write about seeking their whole lives. This is that moment, this is their moment.

They’ll never be this happy again.

It's a quarter past midnight as we cut through the city The streets are getting restless Good times, bad decisions And the sirens are mending some hearts But we're the losers on our back seats Singing love will tear us apart

It's a quarter past midnight, still avoiding tomorrow It's a quarter past midnight, but we're just getting going We keep on running through a red light Like we're trying to burn the night away This is my favorite part Help me piece it all together, darling Before it falls apart

And the speakers are blowing We want the bodies on the billboards Not the lives underneath them And now we're crawling up the walls again And it's a quarter past twelve And you said we'd leave this place in dust And fall from heaven straight through hell We never know what we have We never knew what we had

We keep on running Why are we always chasing after something Like we're trying to throw our lives away?

And the secrets are flowing Our lips are getting looser I don't know what I'm saying We never knew what we had I never know what I've had

Home (Edith Whiskers)

The Marauders remember each other in a haze - well. The ones that are still alive do, that is.

Regulus, falling.

James, fighting.

Lily, screaming.

Sirius, smiling.

Peter, choking.

Remus, crying.

Severus, bleeding.

They all went, and not one peacefully.

If I close my eyes, I can still see them. Laughing.

I do love my ma and pa Not the way that I do love you Well, holy moly, me oh my, you're the apple of my eye Girl, I've never loved one like you Man, oh, man, you're my best friend, I scream it to the nothingness There ain't nothing that I need Well, hot and heavy pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ Ain't nothing please me more than you

I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark Moats and boats and waterfalls, alleyways and pay phone calls I've been everywhere with you We laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night Nothing new is sweeter than with you And in the streets, we run afree, like it's only you and me Geez, you're something to see

Oh, home, let me come home Home is whenever I'm with you Oh, home, let me come home Home is wherever I'm with you

I Hate That You're Happy (Tiny Little Houses)

Severus is alone, alone again. Lily’s gone. She’s run off to marry James Potter, the prat, and Severus - Severus doesn’t hope for much in this life, but he holds out hope for her. Because everyone knows she loves James now, but she loved Severus once too… and she still keeps his green ribbon tied around her ring finger, almost like they’re still married in mind.

So Severus keeps his vows to her. He promised her forever - it’s okay, honestly. That forever can be spent apart. He’ll love her anyway.

He'll love her always.

I'm sorry if I ever hurt you And I never kissed you enough And I just have trouble unravelling sometimes The feelings that I kept locked up

And I know it's my own misfortune And I didn't hold tight enough But I found it hard to keep myself whole While drowning in my bitter blood

I'll stay awake again and start feeling The spot where you used to reside And I'll lay beneath these cold empty sheets Huddled and clutching my sides

And I know it's my own misfortune And darling, believe me, I do And you've got your problems, and hell I've got mine But I find it hard that we're through

And I hate when you're with him And I hate when you smile And I hate that for once you don't seem like you've cried And I hate that you've kissed him And I hate that I'm sore But most of all I hate that you're happier than before

And I hate when you're with him And at night you're entwined And I hate that I have to pretend that I'm fine And I hate that I miss you but you miss him more But most of all I hate that you're happier than before Most of all I hate that you're happier than before

Call Your Girlfriend (Clara Mae)

James knows Lily isn’t happy with him. It’s been months, she’s had plenty of time to come around, but she just - she doesn’t love him. She never has. He should’ve seen that, but he was too busy hating the greasy-haired git to realize that Lily has always loved him more than anything else.

Gently, he lets her go. He presses the green ribbon he found in her drawer around her hand, and he kisses her goodbye, and he tells her to go after her happiness, whoever that is. And she smiles at him, the tears in her eyes happy, and she runs away, crashing into Severus’ arms. And they look… they look so perfect together. Like they make so much sense.

It’s okay. James can take it.

Regulus is staring at him. James winks at him, and smiles.

Call your girlfriend It's time you had the talk Give your reasons Say it's not her fault Tell her not to get upset Second guessing everything you've said and done

And when she get upset Tell her that you never meant to hurt no one You just tell her that the only way her heart will mend Is when she learns to love again And it won't make sense right now But you're still her friend

Cloud 9 (Beach Bunny)

James, Sirius, and Remus. It’s an unconventional love story, but not one they feel the need to explain.

They can and will dance together forever, butterbeers in their hands and magic in their eyes, hearts colliding in a messy, three-way kiss.

I don't wanna seem the way I do But I'm confident when I'm with you Lately all I feel is bad and bruised Tired of tripping on my shoes

When I start to tumble from the sky You remind me how to fly Lately, I've been feeling unalive But you bring me back to life

But when he loves me, I feel like I'm floating When he calls me pretty, I feel like somebody Even when we fade eventually to nothing You will always be my favorite form of loving

the last great american dynasty (Taylor Swift)

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, and its last heir, Sirius Potter Lupin.

Fuck those assholes. He’ll be as mad as he likes.

Was the heir to the name, and money And the town said "how did a middle class divorcée do it?" The wedding was charming, if a little gauche There's only so far new money goes They picked out a home and called it Holiday House Their parties were tasteful, if a little loud The doctor had told him to settle down It must have been her fault his heart gave out

And they said, "there goes the last great american dynasty" Who knows, if she never showed up what could've been There goes the maddest woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything

Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever Flew in all the Bitch Pack friends from the city Filled the pool with champagne and swam with the big names And blew through the money on the boys and the ballet And losing on card game bets with Dalí

There goes the most shameless woman this town has ever seen She had a marvelous time ruining everything

They say she was seen on occasion Pacing the rocks staring out at the midnight sea And in a feud with her neighbor She stole his dog and dyed it key lime green Fifty years is a long time Holiday House sat quietly on that beach Free of women with madness Their men and bad habits, and then it was bought by me

Who knows, if I never showed up what could've been There goes the loudest woman this town has ever seen I had a marvelous time ruining everything

I Don't Believe You (P!nk)

Regulus, alone after Sirius runs away. All alone in a giant house, all alone with his wretched mother and her Death Eater friends, all alone without the only person he’s ever loved.

Sirius never comes back, but Regulus waits at the door for him every day anyway.

(Sirius writes Regulus a million letters. He wonders why he never answers. Not even with a cursive fuck you. Maybe he should go back… maybe - no.

No, best not.

It’s not like Regulus misses him.)

I don't mind it, I don't mind at all It's like you're the swing set and I'm the kid that falls It's like the way we fight, the times I've cried We come too close, and every night The passion's there, so it's gotta be right Right?

I don't mind it, I still don't mind at all It's like one of those bad dreams when you can't wake up It looks like you've given up, you've had enough But I want more, no, I won't stop Because I just know you'll come around Right?

Just don't stand there and watch me fall Cause I still don't mind at all

No I don't believe you When you say, "don't come around here no more" I won't remind you You said we wouldn't be apart No I don't believe you When you say you don't need me anymore So don't pretend to not love me at all

Cause I don't believe you.

Little Miss Perfect (Annapantsu cover)

Regulus Black, the perfect child.

He and his brother are nothing alike. Sirius is rebellious, Regulus is obedient. Sirius is brash, Regulus is controlled. Sirius is bravery, Regulus is misery. They have nothing in common.

Well -

Except their hearts, bothing beating for a boy named James Potter with twinkling eyes. A boy only one of them will get to kiss.

Regulus is happy to be the one who’s lost out. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he stares up at the white light, the surface too far above to reach.

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight path, I don't cut corners I make a point to be on time Head of the student council I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney If you ask me how I'm doing I'll say...

Well, hmm Often I ask myself, "what did I do?" To get as far as I've gotten A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter But I don't dare utter a word Cause that would be absurd behavior For little miss perfect

No, I can't risk falling off my throne Love is something I don't even know Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight girl Little miss perfect That's me You don't even know Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, that's easier You're just confused, believe her When she says there's nothing there It's never worth it When you're little miss perfect

Achilles Come Down (Gang Of Youths)

Sirius, running from his family and his predetermined madness, his wildness carrying him so far he makes a circle.

Remus, hiding from love and freedom, his happiness stitched from his skin in ugly, painful scars.

James, watching his best friends tear each other apart, too blind with love to see the monsters they’ve made of each other.

Children, come down.

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof? You're scaring us and all of us, some of us love you Achilles, it's not much but there's proof You crazy assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue Redemption lies plainly in truth Just humour us, Achilles Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken Remember the pact of our youth? Where you go, I'm going So jump and I'm jumping Since there is no me without you Soldier on, Achilles Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

Hurt and grieve, but don't suffer alone Engage with the pain as a motive Today of all days, see How the most dangerous thing is to love How you will heal and you'll rise above

Achilles, jump now You are absent of cause or excuse So self-indulgent and self-referential No audience could ever want you You crave the applause, yet hate the attention Then miss it, your act is a ruse It is empty, Achilles, so end it all now It's a pointless resistance for you

Achilles, just put down the bottle Don't listen to what you've consumed It's chaos, confusion, and wholly unworthy Of feeding and it's wholly untrue You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing It's all just conjecture and gloom And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it Do not waste your self on this roof

Feel your breath course frankly below And see life as a worthy opponent Crowned by an overture bold and beyond Ah, it's more courageous to overcome You want the acclaim, it's not worth it, Achilles More poignant than fame or the taste of another

Don't listen, Achilles, but be real and just jump You dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat)

You want my opinion (no one asked your opinion) My opinion you've got You asked for my counsel (no one asked for your thoughts)

I gave you my thoughts Be done with this now, and jump off the roof Can you hear me Achilles? I'm talking to you

Throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant Clothe yourself in beauty untold and see life as a means to a triumph

Achilles, come down.

This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things (Taylor Swift)

Remus gets super drunk after the Prank and gives a fucking performance on top of the coffee table in front of the entirety of Gryffindor. Sirius is bright red. James is on the verge of tears. Severus is gaping. And Remus is seething.

You woke the wolf. Now watch it bite.

And there are no rules when you show up here Bass beat rattling the chandelier Feeling so Gatsby for that whole year So why'd you have to rain on my parade? I'm shaking my head, I'm locking the gates

It was so nice being friends again There I was giving you a second chance But you stabbed me in the back while shaking my hand And therein lies the issue, friends don't try to trick you And so I took an axe to a mended fence But I'm not the only friend you've lost lately If only you weren't so shady

Here's a toast to my real friends They don't care about the HE SAID, SHE SAID And here's to my baby He ain't reading what they call me lately And here's to my mama Had to listen to all this drama And here's to you... Cause forgiveness is a nice thing to do

Hahaha, I can't even say it with a straight face!

This is why we can't have nice things, darling Because you break them, I had to take them away This is why we can't have nice things, honey Did you think I wouldn't hear all the things you said about me? This is why we can't have nice things

right where you left me (Taylor Swift)

Remus is pretty sure he died on October 31, 1981. He’s not sure why his body’s still moving.

Friends break up, friends get married Strangers get born, strangers get buried Trends change, rumors fly through new skies But I'm right where you left me Matches burn after the other Pages turn and stick to each other Wages earned and lessons learned But I'm right where you left me

Help, I'm still at the restaurant Still sitting in a corner I haunt Cross-legged in the dim light They say, "what a sad sight" I swear you could hear a hair pin drop Right when I felt the moment stop Glass shattered on the white cloth Everybody moved on I stayed there Dust collecting on my pinned-up hair They expected me to find somewhere Some perspective, but I sat and stared

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it She's still 23 inside her fantasy How it was supposed to be Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it She's still 23 inside her fantasy And you're sitting in front of me

At the restaurant, when I was still the one you want Cross-legged in the dim light, everything was just right

I'm sure that you got a wife out there Kids and Christmas, but I'm unaware Cause I'm right where I cause no harm, mind my business If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong

I'm right where you left me You left me no choice but to stay here forever...

Every Day a Little Death (from “The Count of Monte Cristo”)

Remus Lupin, waiting.

Waiting, waiting, waiting…

For what, he’s not sure. Maybe death. Maybe madness.

Right now all he’s got is lonely.

Lonely, lonely, lonely; la, la, la…

Come out, come out, wherever you are, Peter. Come out and kill me, you coward.

Another day, another week Another month, another year Another day, another night Until it’s day again The sun has fled, I go to bed And scratch a line on the wall Another day, where nothing changes at all

And everyday shuffles by like the day before! On its way to the blackest of skies And everyday a little death comes and paces the floor! And a little bit more of me dies... Another day, another week Another month, another year Another night I spend alone Until it’s day again Our little star has moved away And all the world is a blur I only see I am not me Without her

Everyday a little death for everyday I die Everyday a little death and still I know not why...

He will come back! Perhaps but still… He will return to me! Another prayer You’ve got to live for today I will live when we’re together again Everyday I will pray until then

And everyday another prayer will bring him close to me And every night out little star we will share The one day when I open my eyes He will be standing right over there, one day

There’s something I must say I wanted to protect you

I wish there was a way I could make it untrue I heard the news today I fear the worst has happened An accident occurred He is dead! Dead and gone Rest in peace may flights of angels sing him to his rest Let me hold and help to heal you!

Everyday a little death...

tolerate it (Taylor Swift)

Remus Lupin. Abandoned, alone, aimless. Unwanted, unseen, unloved. Mad, morbid, monster.

He wonders if in the next life, he’ll be dealt some better cards.

Best not hope. Best not be greedy. He could be dead -

Isn’t sadness better?

I sit and watch you reading with your head low I wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed I sit and watch you I notice everything you do or don't do You're so much older and wiser and I

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid Use my best colors for your portrait Lay the table with the fancy shit And watch you tolerate it

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome I take your indiscretions all in good fun I sit and listen I polish plates until they gleam and glisten You're so much older and wiser and I While you were out building other worlds, where was I? Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire? I made you my temple, my mural, my sky Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life Drawing hearts in the byline Always taking up too much space or time You assume I'm fine But what would you do if I

Break free and leave us in ruins Took this dagger in me and removed it Gain the weight of you then lose it Believe me, I could do it! If it's all in my head tell me now Tell me I've got it wrong somehow I know my love should be celebrated But you tolerate it

Téir Abhaile Riu (Celtic Woman)

Sirius being Sirius and Remus and James trying to reign him in. I don’t know. Just vibes, I guess - three soft little gays living out a domestic half-insane life on a little farm in Wales, not a mile from the ashen sea.

Stay here and never you mind The lights of the town are blinding you The sailors they come and they go But listen to what's reminding you Handsome men surrounding you Dancing a reel around you

Listen to the music flow I'm falling for the flow of home I'm home to dance till dawning

Stay awhile and we'll dance together now As the light is falling We'll reel away till the break of day And dance together till morning

No One Knows Us (BANNERS, Carly Paige)

James, Sirius, and Remus are queerplatonic partners. Well, James is theirs - Sirius and Remus are dating. In love. But they and James, they’re not. Not that it matters - every assumes, from their atypical affection, that they are.

James wishes he could be with them, sometimes. The way he wants. Like it’s normal. Without all the prying eyes.

He wonders if he stole a pirate ship and sailed them somewhere else, if it would be any different. Any easier.

Loving the right people shouldn’t be a burden.

Wish I could kiss you when I wanna Without all the fear and all the drama Kill to hold your hand in public I could try to fight the feeling Dull it down like sleeping without dreaming

I wanna push you up against the wall Want them all to hear me call you baby I know it's never gonna happen And I've learned to accept that I accept that

I need you closer Can we go somewhere? No one knows us Leave our world behind We can hole up in a motel room Where no one knows us

See You Again (Carrie Underwood)

The Marauders as they die, one by one. James too early, Sirius too soon, Remus too late. Reunited wherever wizards go when they die, after a long, hard road of what felt like a whole lot of goddamn nothing.

But here they are, at last: alone no longer.

Said goodbye, turned around And you were gone, gone, gone Faded into the setting sun, slipped away But I won't cry cause I know I'll never be lonely For you are the stars to me You are the light I follow

I can hear those echoes in the wind at night Calling me back in time, back to you In a place far away where the water meets the sky The thought of it makes me smile You are my tomorrow

Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking But I stay strong and I hold on cause I know...

I will see you again This is not where it ends I will carry you with me Til I see you again I will see you again...

Bloom (The Paper Kites)

James and Sirius and Remus, loving each other. And not knowing what queerplatonic partners are until Severus and Lily shove a Muggle book into their hands with sweet, manic grins.

“Oh,” James says, with wonder. Sirius kisses him. Remus takes his hand. James looks at them, his eyes wide and twinkling. “Oh, that’s us.”

In the morning when I wake And the sun is coming through Oh, you fill my lungs with sweetness, And you fill my head with you

Shall I write it in a letter? Shall I try to get it down? Oh, you fill my head with pieces Of a song I can't get out

Can I take it to a morning Where the fields are painted gold And the trees are filled with memories Of the feelings never told?

When the evening pulls the sun down, And the day is almost through, Oh, the whole world it is sleeping, But my world is you

Can I be close to you?

Me and My Husband (Mitski)

Sirius and James. Fight me.

(Oh, and Remus - hopelessly in love with them and chasing after their shenanigans as the world stretches out before them, endless.)

I steal a few breaths from the world for a minute And then I'll be nothing forever And all of my memories And all of the things I have seen will be gone With my eyes, with my body, with me

But me and my husband, we're doing better It's always been just him and me together So I bet all I have on that furrowed brow

And I'm the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved And at least in this lifetime, we're sticking together Me and my husband, we're sticking together

You & Jennifer (bülow)

Regulus, angry and bitter, left alone in his big black bed wondering what’s so fucking amazing about Lily Evans that could make James want her more than him.

OR

Remus, so fucking in love with his two best friends… his two best friends, who are so fucking in love with each other, who look at each other like they’re the world, who fuck Remus when the world is ending. His two best friends… assholes.

Listen, no, we don't need to be enemies Ain't got a vision of us in the future with a white picket fence and eternal decisions Now I'm sitting here wondering, when did this all start?

Would rather be the girl that got away than be under your thumb Don't need to spend no more time on you, not like I was in love Not that I'm having a nervous breakdown, I'm just let down You don't know what that's like though to wait up all night So I thank you for teaching me how I could live without you Never needed me, I don't need you

Fuck you and Jennifer, I know that you're out with her Go pretend that you're just friends I'll pretend that I'm not hurt I know all the shit I heard, you can take these bitter words Fuck you and Jennifer Go fucking make love to her

Soon You’ll Get Better (Taylor Swift, The Chicks)

James, surrounded by people he can’t fix.

James, holding a screaming Sirius against his chest as he sobs and shakes from the fifth nightmare that week.

James, brushing salve across the scars of a terrified and bruised Remus after yet another full moon.

James, trying to lure a quiet and cold Peter back to them with candy as he recedes even further away into Slytherin robes.

James, fucking Lily; James, kissing Severus; James, touching Regulus -

James, doomed to love people he can’t help.

The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair I didn't tell you I was scared That was the first time we were there Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you Desperate people find faith, so now I pray too And I say to you

I know delusion when I see it in the mirror You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal I just pretend it isn't real I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try And I'll say to you

And I hate to make this all about me But who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do if there's no you? This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because cause I have to

Soon you'll get better Soon you'll get better You'll get better soon Cause you have to.

Dance Alone (Blanks)

James Potter being his usual idiotic adorable self. (It’s just the vibes, man.)

Been staring at the wall today, to find some hidden meaning My momma called to ask me how I'm feeling I've been running out of things to think So what's the point of dreaming? Called all my friends cause I cant get along with all my demons And I've been watching from a distance how the seasons change

Been staring at the wall today, still looking for some meaning I tried talking to myself for a change to ask me how I'm feeling I've been running out of room to think I need a higher ceiling

I've been lost, lost in the rhythm lately I don't know, know how to dance alone

Strawberry Blond (Mitski)

James falls in love with Sirius first - make no mistake, it was absolutely Sirius first. Because Sirius was just so bright, and so lovely, and so daring, and he made James laugh as they ran and drove and flew for miles without a direction. Anything for a touch.

And then there came Remus - beautiful, sweet, kind Remus, his eyes so gentle and his smiles so pure, and James wanted to hold him forever, wanted to take his hand and dive right into the sun, wanted to burst into flames. Anything for a taste.

And then Sirius and Remus fell in love with each other, and now James watches them from the outside, grinning behind tears and thinking, Oh god. I’m happy.

I love everybody because I love you When you stood up, walked away, barefoot And the grass where you lay left a bed in your shape I looked over it and I ached

I love everybody because I love you I don't need the city, and I don't need proof All I need, darling, is a life in your shape I picture it soft and I ache

Reach out the car window, trying to hold the wind You tell me you love her, I give you a grin Oh, all I ever wanted was a life in your shape So I follow the white lines, keep my eyes on the road as I ache

Look at you, strawberry blond Fields rolling on, I love it when you call my name Can you hear the bumblebees swarm? Watching your arm, I love it when you look my way

FML (Arizona Zervas)

James has a habit of falling for people so fierce he can never refuse them. Regulus is just the last one - the one he keeps, even if he dies still trying to figure out how.

(This is the James and Regulus theme song, I’m calling it.)

I might let you drive me crazy Usually I ain't the type to stay Cause you could fall in, and go psycho Ain't no telling where this might go But I take my chances either way

You look like somebody that could really hold it down You look like somebody that would always stick around I know you probably crazy All my friends said stay away but that shit just don't faze me Got a little bit of sass, I like that You don't take no shit, yeah you fight back Never let a dude hit it on the first night I can't even sleep over til I wife that All these bitches in my phone, hit the boy But I've been curving everyone for you Girl I would give you every single password All you gotta do is let me through

Imma keep it honest, I know that you got a plan I know you ain't perfect, but basic bitches never last I don't usually do this type of shit So baby trust me when I tell you that I'm all about it Yeah, I might fall in love and let you fuck my life up Just so I could go and write a song about it

Last man left you brokenhearted, let me treat you right If you need me I could pull up any night You just say the words, girl, I don't need a reason Give me something more than just a lover on the weekend

Come and fuck my life up.

Lay Me Down (Sam Smith)

If James married Regulus instead, but the war still tore them apart and to shreds.

They still fall, they still die, they still lose… but James is captivated by grey eyes rather than green ones, at least in this lifetime. At least for now.

Yes, I do, I believe that one day I will be where I was Right there, right next to you And it's hard, the days just seem so dark The moon, and the stars are nothing without you Your touch, your skin, where do I begin? No words can explain the way I'm missing you Deny this emptiness, this hole that I'm inside These tears, they tell their own story Told me not to cry when you were gone But the feeling's overwhelming, it's much too strong

Can I lay by your side, next to you? You And make sure you're alright I'll take care of you I don't want to be here if I can't be with you

Forever (... is a long time) (Halsey)

Remus didn’t know anyone could love him, the way he is. You can’t blame him for letting James and Sirius slip through his fingers when he didn’t know they would’ve stayed forever.

He wonders if happiness still sounds like his name on their lips.

I spent a long time watering a plant made out of plastic And I cursed the ground for growing green

I spent a long time substituting honest with sarcastic And I cursed my tongue for being mean

Weightless, breathless, destitute Motionless and absolute He cut me open, sucked the poison from an aging wound Now fifty thousand walking deads would cower at this small brunette It's a nice surprise knowing six feet high Would reach and grab the moon if I should ask

Or just imply that I want you to be more light So I could look inside his eyes And get the colors just right

But love built provinces, callouses, break promises Cause I could never hold a perfect thing and not demolish it What am I thinking? What does this mean? How could somebody ever love me?

"Tell him he's got bad news coming..."

Used To This (Camila Cabello)

James and Sirius, crazy kids in mad love in a big Muggle city, dancing and kissing under the lights every night… and then meeting Remus, and wondering if all these years they’ve been mistaking magic for something else, because this, love, this is what magic is.

No, I never liked San Francisco Never thought it was nothing special Til you kissed me there No, I never liked windy cities But I think maybe when you're with me I like everywhere

It's the strangest feeling Midnight, I'm not leaving No, for once, I think I'll stay I say your name, just listen Doesn't it sound different? Never whispered it this way

It's gonna take me a minute But I could get used to this The feeling of your fingertips The feeling of another kiss Like every tattoo on your skin I'm memorizing every inch

The callouses on your fingers I admired them from a distance Now they're on my cheek

Oh, I've known you forever Now I know you better Let's just get carried away And it bears repeating Now my heart's bleeding When you tell me that you'll stay

It's gonna take me a minute But I could get used to this I could get used to this...

Love Me Like You (Little Mix)

You cannot tell me James and Sirius did not stand on top of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and serenade Remus with this while he covered his bright red face with his hands and damn near cried with embarrassment and laughter, because they did. I promise you, they did.

I solemnly swear.

Darling, he can't buy my love It's you I'm dreaming of

so baby, baby Come and save me

Last night I lay in bed so blue Cause I realized the truth They can't love me like you I've tried to find somebody new Baby, they ain't got a clue Can't love me like you

Come Home With Me (from “Hadestown”)

Sirius and James tripping over themselves trying to say hi the first time they meet Remus, his nose buried in a book in a small cafe, at a table by the window in a dress covered in sunflowers, his cheeks pink and his smile blinding.

OR

James, tripping over himself to win Severus over, who just isn’t having it. (Fuck off, Potter.) (Please?) (No.)

You wanna talk to her?

Yes!

Go on. Don't come on too strong.

Come home with me.

Who are you?

The man who's gonna marry you

Is he always like this?

Yes

Your name is like a melody

A singer, is that what you are?

I also play the lyre...

Oh, a liar, AND a player too! I've met too many men like you.

Oh, no. I'm not like that.

He's not like any man you've met.

That's what I'm working on - A song to fix what's wrong. Take what's broken, make it whole; A song so beautiful, it brings the world back into tune, back into time. And all the flowers will bloom... When you become my wife.

Oh, he's crazy. Why would I become his wife?

Maybe because he'll make you feel alive.

Alive? That's worth a lot... What else ya got?

You Belong With Me (Taylor Swift)

Sirius and James, unable to figure out why they're so bothered by the amount of people who have suddenly started flirting with Remus after the summer of fifth year.

He's just... he's theirs. Their werewolf. Their scrawny motherfucker. Their Moony.

Just.

Theirs.

Oh.

She doesn't get your humor like I do She'll never know your story like I do

Walk in the streets with you in your worn-out jeans I can't help thinking this is how it ought to be And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town I haven't seen it in a while You say you're fine, I know you better than that

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor Oh, I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night I'm the one who makes you laugh when you know you're about to cry And I know your favorite songs, and you tell me about your dreams Think I know where you belong, think I know it's with me...

Have you ever thought, just maybe, you belong with me? You belong with me.

Scrawny (Wallows)

I just really love Remus Lupin, okay?

Used to be level with all my friends Still wear the same shoes I did back then I don't think they've ever been untied I can't regret the things I don't try I'd switch it up but I don't like change Only content if things stay the same Don't care to watch the story unfold Hate feeling like I'm not in control I've been sleeping with the light on I tend to freak myself out Will you come a little closer?

I say the wrong shit at the right times If I'm offending them, I don't mind Maybe they all should listen to me It isn't all about what you see Question though, how do I look to you? Am I so thin that you can see through? I've been sleeping with the light off I wanted to remember Will you come a little closer now?

I'll be one of those people you remember They'll be looking at us when were together I'll be a mannequin you can dismember You don't like my clothes but you still like my smile Take me home to mom but it'll take awhile They might think they're cooler than me by a mile I can still have wisdom and look like a child

I'm a scrawny motherfucker with a cool hairstyle

Hate You (Seann Bowe)

Severus and Lily after the Incident. Still loving each other, but not knowing why or how. Having a million things to say, but never the words.

I'm sorry. What a tragic fucking joke.

Look at me now, such a pitiful place You found someone I thought that'd help erase These crazy thoughts that we were never broken You can't see red flags through rose colored glasses!

I killed you in my head now If I see you out with friends I'll just tell myself that it's a phantom or illusion Guess I haven't chosen which

I hate that I miss you, I hate that I'm lost I hate those dead flowers you taped to your wall I hate that you're okay and I can't move on I hate that somehow this is all my fault! I hate that I'm wide awake watching the door I hate these long showers sitting on the floor I hate in the end it was me who was wrong I hate that I don't really hate you at all

But I kind of wish I did...

I don't really hate you at all.

Bitter And The Sweetness (The Ready Set)

James and Sirius and Remus, dancing in the rain. Sirius is screaming up at the sky, and James is pulling Remus against him, quelling his shivering in an instant.

“I love you,” he whispers, and Remus beams, throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him as Sirius screams, “ELECTRIFY ME MOTHERFUCKER!” at the clouds.

That’s love, bitch.

Troublemaker look on your face Followed by a smile and I melt away It ain't always been this lovely We turn the ice and start a fire, melt away

It don't happen overnight It's laughing after fights Knowing which song I should sing to make you smile again Your favorite flowers How I know before you say, "It's gonna be okay"

Love, I think we got time to make mistakes Bitter and the sweetness, I just love the taste

You give me trouble in the best way When you let your hair down I can't look away You've just always been that lovely We turn the dark into light You'll be staying close

Like the time we got stuck out in the rain When you took my hand said, "Baby, we should stay."

Serenade (BANNERS)

James Potter's ghost, watching over Sirius Black forevermore. You don't just leave your soulmate behind. Never.

Stolen, some people stay a life, some for a moment Some hearts they set a light just to be frozen And so we're out of time, broken But now you've got the chance to travel oceans I hope the world's as wide as you were hoping Don't let heartache cloud your mind

If the days go darker, darling And you lose your way Go on, go on, I'm not beside you But I'll be the song there in the silence Let go, let go, darling, it's over now You're on your own, but I'm on your shoulder I'll always be your serenade, serenade, I I'll always be your serenade

They told you It's not the being drunk, it's being sober That's when it really hits you that it's over It's hard to say goodbye So you can keep me Somewhere out of reach but if you need me Just hum these memories and you can feel me I'm always standing by Go and write your story, darling You will find your place

You can always remember that I'm here to ease your mind I'm on your side and You can call me and just like that I'll sing a song to bring you home, babe

It's Quiet Uptown (from "Hamilton")

Remus, alone. His husband gone, his friends dead, his family murdered. Nothing left for him, until...

"Padfoot."

A sheepish smile.

"Hi, Moony."

Remus takes a deep breath. Sirius reaches for his hand.

They'll figure it out.

There are moments that the words don't reach There is suffering too terrible to name You hold your child as tight as you can And push away the unimaginable The moments when you're in so deep It feels easier to just swim down And so they move uptown And learn to live with the unimaginable

I spend hours in the garden, I walk alone to the store And it's quiet uptown, I never liked the quiet before And I pray, that never used to happen before

If you see him in the street Walking by himself, talking to himself, have pity You would like it uptown, it's quiet uptown He is working through the unimaginable His hair has gone grey He passes every day They say he walks the length of the city You knock me out, I fall apart Can you imagine?

Look at where we are Look at where we started I know I don't deserve you But hear me out That would be enough If I could spare his life If I could trade his life for mine He'd be standing here right now And you would smile and that would be enough

I don't pretend to know The challenges we're facing I know there's no replacing what we've lost And you need time But I'm not afraid I know who I married Just let me stay here by your side That would be enough

There are moments that the words don't reach There's a grace too powerful to name We push away what we can never understand We push away the unimaginable They are standing in the garden Standing there side by side She takes his hand It's quiet uptown

Forgiveness, can you imagine? Forgiveness, can you imagine? If you see him in the street Walking by her side, talking by her side, have pity They are going through the unimaginable

Dynasty (MIIA)

The Marauders are dead and gone, did you know?

But they were great once. Unstoppable. Invincible, young, in love.

Can you tell? Can you...

Remember?

Some days, it's hard to see if I was a fool or you a thief Made it through the maze to find my one in a million And now you're just a page torn from the story I'm living The scar I can't reverse And the more it heals, the worse it hurts Gave you every piece of me, no wonder it's missing Don't know how to be so close to someone so distant

And all I gave you is gone Tumbled like it was stone It all fell down, it all fell down

Thought we built a dynasty that heaven couldn't shake Thought we built a dynasty like nothing ever made Thought we built a dynasty forever couldn't break up.

Dancing After Death (Matt Maeson)

Oh. It's you. You're here.

I never thought I'd see you again.

Do I know better than this? You're a word that I can't forget Though the thought rattles my brain Will you fold or will you remain?

If I don't get better than this man in my skin If I let go, would you hold on? Would we fly? Is it safer if we just say that we tried? Are we laughing at the danger?

As the sun waits to eclipse And the taste teases my lips I'm too tired to wrestle with it Will we burn, or will we repent?

Are we dancing after death, you and I?

[lilikags]

Hello! Can I request a romantic matchup for tears of themis please? I am okay with my info being posted since for some reasons none can tag me....

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes (I wear glasses but they are also sun glasses because bright lights give me a headache) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. Plump lips. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style (most of the time I wear a NASA jacket and leather boots/sneakers, I also love sleeveless turtleneck) who changes a lot. I have malleable cheeks and tiny hands/fingers/wrist.

MBTI: INTP-T and chaotic neutral/good

Zodiac: Gemini sun, Taurus rising, libra moon

Enneagram : My dominant is type 5 then 8. Quizzes says that I am a 5w6 or 8w7

Personality : .Sarcastic,a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic, smartass, bookworm, daydreamer, a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side ,vengeful, mischievous, a huge tease, open minded, very curious, gets annoyed easily, impatient (unless it's in drawing because I am a perfectionist there) so kind of a bad temper, observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts. Indifferent to many things, morally ambiguous as my moral compass is on the neutral side I don't believe in absolute evil/good, y'all better thank my conscience they work too well I never have fun.

With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. I love to give bad puns or cursed ideas who are gore/weird and saying I know y all love me. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as polite and kind. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily. Also I have very weird reflexes so...anyone who approaches me by surprise gets hit, any sudden movement and I already have my leg/arm going their way which got me into a lot of trouble.

Dislikes: I fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Bright lights. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased in a mean way (otherwise I actually like being teased it's a fun fight after). People who change side easily and hypocrites. Overly serious people. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject. When I feel that I am unwanted or someone insults me or take me for granted I become very cold and distance myself and the relationship becomes strained the more they take time to ask for forgiveness, something I might give but will never forget.

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Cherries. Sushi.Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it. I like making character analysis which I often get right but never show to the people around me because I know they will trust me less.

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (I practice karate and shooting), art (piano/drawing/writing especially poetry) and video games

I have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it by painting them black)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Fun fact : I dream a lot and write my dreams. I don't mind nightmares on the contrary I welcome them because I find them to be a nice experience and they give me ideas plus the amount of emotions you can feel is amazing. I also tend to curse while talking.

When I get hurt, none takes me seriously because I start laughing uncontrollably even if it hurts a lot. Which means if I get stabbed, I am not dying of blood lost, nooo I am dying of laughter.

I rarely get motivated but when I do I give a very good work and put my soul in it, if I don't reach my goal I feel down for a while and become very snappy.

I am a lazy student (hell if I don't feel like writting I don't especially exercises that I understood) but also at top of my class so none says anything (i can befriend people easily if I want to, teachers included). My projects are often done last minute or just improvisation but I get a good mark at them which means that yes sometimes I can become arrogant and I don't really know what it feels like to study really hard and fail sorry. But I know it will bite me later. I often argue my way out of a situation with anyone : I know the exercise why should I write it? If I told you the answer then I know how I got it and you know it too no need for me to write the correction. Mum the brain is a muscle too so I am in fact exercising.

When dealing with an emotional person I don't know what to do I will try to give them words to keep going, it succeed but I am rather harsh plus I try to make jokes to cheer them up.But if a friend breaks down before me I will do my best to cheer them up (ahem jokes and reminding them of all the success they achieved) and if I am comfortable and they want a hug I will give it. I hate people who denies that others helped them.

My love language is gifts, quality time, a little act of service and affection in private if comfortable. I also love to send memes saying it reminds me of us/you and holding pinkies.

I am stubborn, moody (one day I can be really cold/snappy to the person because I am in a bad mood but I apologize after). I speak Arabic, french and English (in that order) and trying to learn italian. I am also an only child. I hate being treated as a damsel in distress.

Thank you and take care!

sorry, all the matchups for this month have been taken up. feel free to request next month though! >.<

[ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa]

fav blogs as pedro characters?

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

Alright let's fucking do this--

@zeldasayer my OG. She's my fucking Agent Whiskey, tempting, sassy, deadly--My original downfall into the Pedro fandom once I discovered her HCs and her Whiskey and Gin series. She's my girl, my caps lock screamer, and idea gusher and as y'all know, the ONLY Agent Whiskey I accept is one that will do cocaine off of my ass. (And also the reason my daddy kink went full force this year 😂) but at the same time she is my Oberyn...because she reminds me to expand my desires for everything I want and for the more luxurious things in life because WE ARE WORTH IT. Also she is a bi-icon and hella sex positive. Like this entire list but I digress. lol

@winters-buck She's my Frankie Morales. Loyal as shit and always there for me and just a constant stream of love and support. She can tell when I am down or in a rut and will blow up my phone with endless streams of photos of the boy and HCs that make me smile. The literal sweetest person and is a quiet presence until you get her talkin’. 

@rae-gar-targaryen -- Ezra. As much as I almost made her my Oberyn, it feels right that she is my Ezra. Do ya’ll have any idea how fucking SMART this girl is. She is a lawyer. A lover of poetry. She is strong and cunning and will do anything for her friends and loved ones and I would absolutely want her on my side when push came to shove. 

@qveenbvtch -- is this even a question? She's my Javier Peña. This badass fucking bitch is my leather jacket wearing, black widow thigh having, bisexual, confidence booster. She is an amazing writer and so fucking funny and like all of the people on this list, we share the same thot brain wavelength. Like Javi she is a strong person who will quietly deal with her own problems on her own while reaching out to make sure YOU are taken care of.

@fleetwoodmactshirt -- She might kill me but I'm gonna just come out and say it. She's my Max Phillips. The snark. The wit. The sass. The undeniable magnetism that drew me, and countless others, to her. She is hysterical and I am so glad to have her to bounce ideas off of and to keep me sane on this blue hellsite.

Other people who are non-stop streams of support and always in my DMs and I couldn’t do this without-- @pettyprocrastination  @pascalplease  @agentpike  @thebakerstboyskeeper  @tealeavez @loversandantiheroes @huliabitch @pajamasecrets @tyenesnakes @kochamcie @atlas-adams-apple 

[parson-kent]

you should die with me

""Nurse," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, "why do you always gotta make things so sexual? Can't you just enjoy things, for like one fucking time, without turning it weird?"

"Well, why are you such a fucking prude, Dex? How about letting me eat this goddamn cookie without judgement? 'Why do you make things so sexual, Nurse, blah blah blah?' It's because we're so rooted in early Protestant ideals that you're like this-"

And, yeah, it kinda devolved from there."

or Nursey and Dex get on each other's nerves and also get off on each other's nerves.

My first nurseydex fix!! Also posted on ao3. Trigger warnings for language, ignorance. Check below the cut for the fic :)))

and every word that you mock sounds so pretty to me, you should die with me - Saturday Night, HUNNY

-

Dex was working on the boiler in the basement of the Haus when he heard Nursey come in through the front door. He recognized the stomp of his hipster-thrifted boots across the living room floor and his laugh as he talked to Bitty in the kitchen. He recognized the way he could almost make out their conversation. He also recognized the way he said goodbye and turned to head down the basement stairs.

Nursey came clambering down the stairs with two big cookies, one in each hand.

"Dude, look what Bitty made!! It's his MooMaw's chocolate chip recipe, apparently she has like tasks he has to complete before she rewards him with the best recipe? Anyway, he just got this one. They smell so good, dude! I brought you one."

Dex smiled, face hidden behind the broiler. "Let me just deal with this last screw and I'll grab one."

Nursey apparently seemed content to stand there and ramble as Dex finished up. He was talking about his Mexican poetry class or something, but Dex wasn't really paying attention. He just let Nursey's words wash over him.

Finally, he gave the screw one final twist before standing up and grabbing a towel off the floor to wipe his hands. He brushed off any oil or grease that would be on them before grabbing a cookie out of Nursey's hand. They both took their first bite at the same time, and Nursey let out a small moan. Dex blushed and tried to focus on enjoying Bitty's delicious baking skills. And you know what? Dex could also attest to the sinful delightful-ness of this certain cookie, but did you see him moaning over it? No.

"Nurse," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, "why do you always gotta make things so sexual? Can't you just enjoy things, for like one fucking time, without turning it weird?"

"Well, why are you such a fucking prude, Dex? How about letting me eat this goddamn cookie without judgement? 'Why do you make things so sexual, Nurse, blah blah blah?' It's because we're so rooted in early Protestant ideals that you're like this-"

And, yeah, it kinda devolved from there.

-

Shitty stomped down the steps about 15 minutes later to break up their fighting. By then it had gotten so loud that Dex was pretty sure the Lax bros could hear it from their house. He was pretty sure he had been going on about respecting people's boundaries, while Nurse had been off on some rant about Protestant ideals and how they had cursed America. Whatever it was, it had been pretty bad.

But then, Shitty arrived and taken them into the reading room.

"Bros, I want you to reflect on this moment. Do you feel in anyway better than the way you were feeling before? Do you feel accomplished or satisfied"

Dex shook his head, but resolutely refused to turn even the slightest inch to see what Nurse said.

Shitty just shook his head before he launched into some complicated lecture about emotional control and shared space. Dex listened with some level of interest before tuning it out.

Suddenly, Shitty snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Hey, both of you, pay attention. You'll be quizzed on this later."

-

Dex woke up the next morning to sunlight leaking in from the windows. He blinked at the sudden brightness then quickly squeezed his eyes shut. Apparently, his roommate had forgotten to shut their black out blinds properly.

"Are you fucking shitting me, Trevor? This type of shit happens every week, you've got to stop it."

No response. Dex leaned over the side of his bed and stared at the empty bed across from him.

"Oh- fuck, you've gotta be kidding me? He's gone, that's just great, he already left," Dex mumbled to himself as he stood up, back cracking.

He stretched his arms up to the ceiling, twisting and yawning. Then, he stomped over and yanked their blackout blinds shut. Dex turned and grabbed his phone and then laid back down in bed in the blissful darkness. His first class wasn't until 1:00, so he had a nice day ahead of him, seeing as it was only 8:30. He checked Twitter first, liking some of Bitty's tweets and laughing at some new memes. Then, he stumbled across a tweet from one Derek M. Nurse posted only a couple minutes after Shitty's lecture.

derek loves smh @dnursey   when ur much better at shitty's end-of-lecture quizzes than that other guy #nailedit #educateyoself   [ Picture of a slightly crumbled piece of paper with what seems to be a quiz on it. Each answer is hastily bubbled in, and at the top is sloppy handwriting that reads "11/12 Excellent job, Nurse. Lots of improvement since last time." ]

Dex felt anger rising in the pit of his stomach. He snorted with intense derision as he finished reading Nurse's stupid post. He threw his phone to the foot of his bed. Dex laid there, just looking at the ceiling for a few minutes. Why the fuck was Nurse so annoying? Sure, his own quiz was lying next to his bed with a "7/12 Dex, I know you can do better. Don't let your anger get to you." written on it, but seriously, who the fuck even actually gives quizzes after lectures anyway. It was all too much for Dex sometimes. He had ideals and ideas and values and morals and a ton of other bullshit engrained in him from years of living in his small town in Maine. That type of stuff doesn't just fade away from 8 months at a private liberal arts college.

Sure, maybe he came to Samwell to discover more things and explore, but he was afraid sometimes. Afraid of rejection, of failure, of judgement. So many times he wanted to do something, but then worried about it getting out or being made fun of... or even of being supported. Knowing he now had people who would love and support him through whatever? That shit was scary. Dex didn't have any more excuses to push himself down because now he had people who wanted to build him up.

He leaned down and picked up the crumpled quiz off the floor. He smoothed it out before grabbing his computer. Maybe if they were so intent on building him up, he could help a little bit too.

-

A month later, Dex and Nursey were hanging out together in the Haus living room. Well, "hanging out" might be stretching it. They were in the same room, working on schoolwork separately. And not fighting. It was pretty much a miracle. However, getting to this point had required some hard work on their part. Something had flipped in Dex after Shitty's lecture. He realized the reason why he had picked Samwell. The slogan "1 in 4, maybe more" was burnt into the deepest recesses of his mind. Samwell represented everything Dex wanted to be - everything he couldn't be back in Maine. So, he had sat down with his computer that afternoon and searched everything he could on Protestant culture and its effect on modern America. Then, through gritted teeth with genuine emotion in his eyes, he apologized to Nurse the next day. Nursey accepted it with little chirping, apparently seeing something in Dex that was different from all the other apologies.

Dex continued to work on his behavior. He would borrow books on social justice and unbiased history from the Samwell library and engage respectfully in debates in his classes and even just out on the quad. He noticed that the team was being more open with him too. Before, they would hide the hard conversations and reprimands from him. But now, they had been including him, asking him for his opinions and educating him on important topics. Still, he and Nurse got into it sometimes, but now it was mostly just playful. Dex had come to love their arguments - it was amazing getting to be so intense and passionate with another person.

It felt... intimate, really. It was almost like, despite their two very different backgrounds, Nursey was the only person who really understood him. He knew the ins and outs of Dex's personality better than anybody, even Dex himself. He knew how to push his buttons, but he also knew to look out for Dex's shaking hands when he codes for too long and then get him a water or gatorade. Nursey knew Dex. And it felt good to be known.

Dex was deep in these thoughts as they laid together in the living room. Suddenly, a resounding BANG from the kitchen echoed throughout the Haus. The two of them scrambled to get up, Dex knocking over his computer and Nursey creating a shower of paper in the middle of the Haus. They rushed into the kitchen to find Bitty, covered in flour, the lid to the food processor missing.

"Oh y'all, I'm such a mess," he said, close to tears. "Finals are just stressing me out, no big deal."  

Dex ran to him, wrapping him in one of his signature bear hugs reserved for close friends. He locked eyes with Nurse over Bitty's head and they exchanged a curt nod. Nursey immediately began to clean up the mess in the kitchen while Dex led Bitty upstairs to the bathroom. He made sure Bitty was situated and ready to take a shower before heading back downstairs with a load of flour-covered clothes for the laundry.

"I'm going downstairs to do the wash," he called into the kitchen as he passed by the door.

Nursey just threw him a small wave before he turned back to scrub the tile. Dex smiled to himself the whole way down the stairs to the basement. Nursey and him were both learning; growing together.

Dex reached the bottom of the stairs still wrapped up in his thoughts. He really did love the way he and Nurse were getting along now - it caused something to stir inside him. He felt it deep in his stomach, something fiery and passionate just like Nursey coiling there every time they were together. Dex dumped the load into the washer. He just wished it had happened sooner. Nursey was one of his best friends now, along with Chowder. They were both such amazing people. Samwell had changed Dex - he was a better person now, with friends who loved him and helped him become the best version of himself that he could be. He set the dial to normal load and finished with pouring the detergent in. Then, he leaned against the washer and sunk deeper into his thoughts.

-

Nursey found him ten minutes later. He had flour in his hair and some in his stubble. His stupid hipster shirt was also covered in flour and he looked pretty angry. Dex had to laugh.

"God, Nurse, what was Bitty cooking in there?"

Nursey just groaned and glared at Dex. "Dude, get your ass up there! I need help cleaning up this mess."

Dex smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ""Help'. 'Cleaning'. Two words I never expected Derek Malik Nurse to say at all, let alone in the same sentence. Didn't you have maids for that in your brownstone?"

Nursey stomped closer to him. "Well, you're the master of cleaning, huh? All those years in bumpkin Maine, on that lobster boat."

Let it never be said that William J. Poindexter was one to back down from a challenge. He stepped closer, laundry and flour both far from his mind. "Like you would know a thing about responsibility. It was all just prep school and expensive field trips and Broadway and hundred dollar dinners with you, huh? Never learned the value of hard work."

"Of course I know hard work, try writing a 20 page essay in a week. With a 15 page-"

Dex cut him off. "Try coding an entire plug-in in the 30 minutes so I have 30 minutes to troubleshoot in my hour long lab! English is just some words-"

"Oh, I've heard this one before! 'My name's Dex and I just think English is just some words on paper!'"

They were both yelling at this point, trying to outdo each other in the loudness factor. Their fights always ended like this. However, Dex was just realizing how close they were. In their fury, they had gotten almost uncomfortably close.

Intimate, Dex's mind whispered.

Dex tried to shove that thought from his mind and focus on Nursey's rant, but it lingered. Suddenly, almost as if he couldn't control his own limbs, he pushed Nurse against the washing machine. He held him there, wrists trapped against the cool metal.

Nursey became very quiet and swallowed.

Dex looked at him, with flour everywhere and a righteous passion still contained in his warm brown eyes. He leaned in close and released one of Nursey's wrists so he could cup his cheek.

"Is this okay?" He asked, head bent in close enough that his warm breath washed over Nursey's face.

Nursey nodded and whispered, "Just fucking kiss me, Poindexter."

Dex leaned in with just a faint brush of the lips. Then, Nursey pulled his other hand from Dex's grasp and pulled him in close, trapping him in an almost brusing kiss. They fought with each other just like in real life. Nursey moaned just a bit when Dex moved his body so he and Nursey were flush against each other. Dex took that as a sign, pushing his tongue into Nursey's mouth.

They pulled apart slowly, each breathing heavily. Nursey looked up at Dex from lidded eyes. Dex smiled in his head.

Finally, Nursey's passion was directed at him. And only him.

[peachy-readings]

Behind the Scenes

Hey y’all! Hope this week has treated you well. I’ve spent most of my week reading (pssst-- check out Girls of Paper and Fire, so good!) and thinking about my writing process. Mostly, I’ve been thinking about ways to get inspired, because, let’s be honest, writing is taxing! Keeping things updated is hard, and it sucks when you are fresh out of ideas.

So how do I keep this blog running? I pay attention to the world around me--not as easy as you think. It takes a keen eye and listening skills to take in a lot of information from the environment you’re in. From there, you can start to ask some questions. I like to make most things about me--I’m selfish like that--and I like to think of all the different ways the world around me can relate to myself and how I exist in a space. Then, I like to relate those things to the projects I’m working on.

Earlier this week, for example, I went to an event at my local art center: The Stony Island Art Bank. The Arts Bank was having an event called Free Breakfast Program by the Black Panthers. It was an exhibition dedicated to the work and art by black artists in Chicago inspired by the activism of the Panthers.  I obviously went for the free breakfast, but the exhibition space made it so much more worth it. I found myself curious, enthralled, and most importantly, inspired. This place led to me to ask questions about my work like: How does this work relate to my own writing? What visual tropes/symbols/folk lore can I replicate in writing? Why is it important that others see this?

The Stony Island Art Banks is also home to an extensive collection of archival research and writing on black history in Chicago. And yes, I questioned that too. I asked myself: How is archival research done? How can I get access to this space? Why is it important that this exists? How can archival documents help me with my writing? What tools does archival have to offer me? How can I share this space with others?

How can I share this space with others? And that’s the big question here, y'all. I created this blog to share with you. I want to put you on to the things I’m thinking and learning about so you can get hip too. It’s not super fun to find these resources on your own, so I’m trying to make the process a little bit more smooth.

(Photos of the Stony Island Art Bank taken by me)

So yeah, sometimes just going to events around my city helps inspire me, but that’s not to say that careful thinking and planning is not involved. I’m a Virgo! I love to plan! A Virgo journalist at that--you might say researching is my calling.

Before I decided on this blog as my main topic, I made a list of all possible issues I would want to cover. Every once and a while, I peak back at that list and know that I have a slew of back-up plans. When I start running out of things on my list, I sit down for a good couple of hours and try to generate new ideas. I do research. I look at what writing groups are doing on social media. I look at book store events, and poetry club minutes. I follow my favorite writers on Twitter to see what questions they’re thinking about. I see what other people in this field are doing, and I ask myself, how can I help my readers do that, too?

But most importantly, I read. I’m a writer you know, most of my ideas just come from books. I might notice a specific stylistic choice an author made and think whoa, how can I achieve that same affect? I want to have a discussion about it. Or, I might notice something I don’t like, and think yikes, how can I avoid doing that?

For me, blogging is just about reflecting on yourself and the things around you. I’m always thinking okay, what works? If something does or doesn’t work, I wanna tell y'all and figure out why.  If I see something that inspires me, I wanna tell y’all why. I want us to figure this out together.

That’s the beauty of a blog and generating topics. Running this blog allows me to explore things I hadn’t considered, and ask the hard questions I often avoided. If you think about it hard enough, the whole world can relate to you and your writing. That’s important. I want to bring the world to you.

[hahahafangirl]

To My Muse - Ch. 5

Ch.1 - Ch.2 - Ch.3 - Ch.4 To my AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078014/chapters/34958786

Summary: At this point, all Nico di Angelo wants to do is to finish the draft of his final book. Also at this point, all Will Solace wants to do is works through the summer to stay alive. Perhaps there are many things else that they also need, but they aren’t aware of them, yet. Okay, maybe they just need to do it step-by-step, and thus that first step is at The Flying Ship. ————————————————————

5. Seven Steps Toward Summer

It was Wednesday. Good ole ordinary Wednesday, who endearingly visits every week only to leave in the span of twenty-four hours; just as an old friend that seemed to be ageless in that her existence is unforgettable. Perhaps, it was because her visit is periodical and frequent, that the same sanguine signal followed her voyage: the next day was his "weekend". He loves his work schedule in that his holidays are two days before other most of others'; especially in that the aspect that everywhere he visits are usually void of the crowd - as everyone else is hard at work, he gets his meritorious break. Coffee shops are sprinkled with scarcely a crowd, the pastries at the bakery are more punctiliously made, the silent air of the library circulates more gently. Yet, best of all, he could use the excuse "But it's not the weekend!" to stay inside and "be productive", as he preferred to describe the seemingly dull and insipid activity of working on his school works.

All right, so perhaps he only loved Wednesday because technically it was equivalent to normal people's Friday, but what difference would it make? Why couldn't he still rightfully wax poetry about his favorite day of the week?

Still, to be fair, the last time he dares to portray his day as ordinary or habitual, an utterly momentous event happen: an unreservedly charming man stepped through The Flying Ship's door, eyes fixated at his face. Will Solace might or might not felt ardor blossomed within his ludicrously earnest heartbeat. The other guy - Will reminded himself not to get ahead of himself - might or might not reciprocate such ardent desire. Nonetheless, they befriended; the guy even recognized Will's favorite band! The idea seemed absurd in the past - like a fantasy that kept replaying in his head instead of jumping out and transform into reality. And now, it finally came true. Not just the "recognizing his favorite music" part - the entire ordeal seemed fantastically dreamlike.

Nonetheless, he loves the normalcy of life - the unremitting beat of motion and activity, the perpetual cycle of monochromatic daylight and kaleidoscopic bulbs enlightens the city, the perennial tidal masquerade of the waves - that were law-abiding and sober, yet its heart was sculpted by enchantment, the sleeves still the fabric of charm. Its tricks are just illusions cloaked under its velvety pretense mayhaps, yet what is life but conundrums and secrets? In the regularity of life, the magic is kept to the minimum and logic dominated, most of the time, though, with his mind deluded by its steady, conciliating rhythm, Will won't recognize any hidden variables installed in place. Just as this instance, was it logical or was it magical that Kayla and Austin called him, together, urgently, in the middle of his shift? Especially if he weighted in numerous, countless elements involved

"No, Kayla. As I emphasized, again and again," Will huffed, his eyes comically widen and his eyebrows raised in desperate exasperation - the emphasis on the word "emphasized" weighted like an annoyed grunt "We're not dating. We're friends."

"Good grief, William," Will could practically hear the noise of Austin's eyes rolling in its socket; the boy has made an irksome habit of calling him every possible name that could be shortened into "Will" - except for his actual name, of course, just for the sake of ticking off the older brother; "Sure, just a friend, you know, who came to the shop every single day since the day he practically eat you up by his eyes, that blushes and dumbfoundedly stare everytime you pull up your sunshine smile, and..." Nothing good would ever come out, every time Austin did such dramatic pause "... a friend sooooooo important that you couldn't help talking about him with Drew every single day."

Will could hear Kayla whistling from another end, but perhaps Will's choking noise was even louder - yet neither of those actually helped to amplify the situation, honestly, for the rosiness in Will's cheeks had already gone blood-red five minutes ago, since the first mention of Nico. His gauche "That's not how it is..." barely came out as a suffocated whisper.

"Oh, Will. Oh, Will," Kayla had snatched the phone from Austin's hand, it seemed, her voice theatrically deriding "Finally, don't you see, Austin," she turned to the "sport-announcer" voice now "Our most gracious, devoting, work-a-holic single-mom had found the love of his life now, in his workplace. A coffee shop, you say? What kind of romantic K-drama is this? How much shoujo manga material is loaded into this love-life?-"

"Sickeningly cliché is it, my dudess, yet so heartwarming," Austin added in his two cents in the background

"An overworked mother found her hope in love again after seeing a handsome man in black? Oh goodness, I understood why Drew was so hyped-"

"Now, pause for a second, would you-" Will pleaded

"You know what she said, Wilfred?" Austin's enthusiastic voice came on crystal clear, from either extreme shouting or regained control of the phone, "'Oh my gawd, haven't you children heard? Will was absolutely smitten, I'm telling you. That unromantic boy finally sounded like he is capable of scoring himself a boyfriend.'" It, apparently, didn't matter that Drew was one of his closest friends, seeing that Austin had no problem ridiculing her voice with his absurdly sweet mocking-tone. Kayla's laughing noise was stifled from Austin's end.

"Drew told y'all all of this?"

"Of course, she's... well, our most trusted secret agent out there." Kayla was back on the phone now, practicing her "government-official" voice.

"But, seriously, Wilston," As always, Austin's tone turned solemn, his maturity found its way to outshine his mischievous-loving facet, "Take your chance, dude, I couldn't care less about how slow it's gonna be. Be friend first, then close friend, then best friend, whatever. You finally quit over-worrying about us and get out of this town-"

"That was five years ago, Austin-"

"And you're still a worrywart." Kayla's joined in, her voice earnest, "And I know that you'll always be, Will. But, gods, just... stop. Don't tire yourself out because of us. We're not kids

anymore."

"I'm overdue for being an adult now, Will." Everytime Austin called Will by his actual alias, the conversation became genuinely heartfelt. That sentence was not new - in fact, lately, it seemed that their conversation would always head toward this direction.

"Plus, I'm going to university next fall, Will. There's absolutely no need for you to worry about us, both economically and, well... everything else-y." Kayla tried to assure him, the words started as solemnly yet became light-hearted, almost humorous, at the end "Just, take care of yourself. Medical school is a fucking mess, so at least try to enjoy your summer..."

"Summer, you say, hm?" Will absentmindedly muttered, his eyes pensively gaze over the street outside. A brooding sense of vagueness engulfed his thought; like a hazy, misty cloth, it suddenly overpowered his eyesight, turning the scenery outside the window distant and detached from his reality, his own universe. For an unknown reason, if there is actually any, the idea of "summer" seemed such a faraway reverie, as if the word deepened in itself a concealed, abstract meaning besides a name of a season. Not necessarily anything that could be associated with summer - the minuscule waves of the butterfly inside his gut was a notional feeling - it wasn't the beach, the heatwave, the ambrosial smell of fruits, nor was it the rush of vacation. That's to be said, there was a hint of liberty in such feeling (No, it was not related to the Fourth of July), not the freedom from the hellscape that is medical school, the freedom from the responsibility of an adult, nor freedom from any physical constraint. It was more of that his heart is free - unbound from any burden, from the invisible weight that he has no idea why, when, and how it got there.

Still, that was just a reverie - a daydream he could sacrifice time to live in, yet, nonetheless, it was anything but a minute of his soul wandering outside of this realm.

"Yeah, Will, and you should come back home sometimes-" Will realized that he must have spaced out for a pretty long while, as the conversation had spiraled out of his mind yet again. Before he could panic and try to follow up on the dialogue, the familiar chimes resonated, pushed through the air and rushed toward his eardrums, for the fourth time in his shift. Which was not a lot, but one had to consider that today was, again, still a weekday. Out of a corner of his eyes, a familiar strand of messy, charcoal hair casually bounded its way into the shop. "-expensive, but Minnie missed you a lot-"

"Listen, kids, I would love to keep talking and listening to y'all complaining about my lack of presence at home, and I'm honestly very sorry about that, but right now I'm still in my shift and-"

"Did Nico just come in? I swear I heard the bell rings!"

"It's definitely Nico, isn't it?" Kayla excitedly followed, then unceremoniously shouted, the phone still directly in his ears "HEY, NICO! HOW ARE YOU DOING WILL LOVES TALKING ABOUT YOU SO MU-

"Bye!" Will briskly shouted a curt goodbye to the phone, which was clutched tightly by two hands, the screen shined its light directly in front of his mouth - the immediate result of having Kayla's booming voice aimed toward his myringa. How he hoped the kid hasn't announced her presence aloud from the phone for the entire West Coast to aware. How he hoped Drew hasn't told them about his new friend. How he hoped he hasn't told anyone about said person.

And oh, how he hoped, dearly, desperately, perilously hoped - because this is one wish in which time-traveling is not involved - that whoever just stepped into to shop (he knew it was Nico, but-) has not paid enough attention nor their hearing was not so exemplary that every single word that bounced out of his phone was heard. Gods, he hasn't even put his phone on speaker.

Still, before he had time to reconsider about every decision he took in his twenty-three pathetic years of exchanging oxygen through the trillions of cells in his body, his obligation toward this job made him tilted his head up and look at the individual that has been so promptly ignored, despite the fact that they had been here for at least three minutes, and probably just hoped for a nice cup of coffee, and not his personal nor familial information. As he expected, Nico di Angelo, his new friend - f.r.i.e.n.d - stood awkwardly in front of the counter, his lean, tiny figure forced him to tilt slightly upward toward the barista. Before Will had time to dreamily gazing over the guy's drastically improved appearance - suddenly, it seemed as if he hadn't had enough time for frankly, anything, lately - a curbed giggle wriggled it way out, through the crevices of Nico's healthily defined, lean and elegant fingers. His eyes curved into crescents, the moonlit surface dotted with the same tenebrous iris, now illumined by the warmth his smile radiated. Was it atypical for Nico's facade to be inundated and enlightened by a sheer jubilant curve of his lips? Will caught himself asking, for how divine and beauteous the other man's joy seemed, the sight graciously, tacitly extricated his soul from pure allure. The melody of his laugh did nothing to lure Will's back from his cherry-blossomed reverie; the angelic harmony danced around his ear, fleetingly fondled his hearing just to dissolved into air. The stifled noise was nonetheless childish and gay, faithful to the depiction that was of a cherub giggling at an embarrassing sight; which is quite accurate, if the rising warmth in Will's cheeks and his ridiculous position whilst held the phone was anything to go by.

"Now, who is the lame one, staring at the other's smile?" Nico smiled yet again, his lips curved into more of a teasing smirk

At this point, Will didn't even bother looking for a retort. He had felt the blood rushing to his face, more clearly this time. The only course of action his brain registered was to jerkily straighten his frame, hastily slam his phone into the counter, hope that the screen won't crack, and hopelessly directed his stare elsewhere - anywhere but the exuberant sight that is Nico di Angelo.

"Wo... wh... what would you like to o... order... today?" He finally breathed out, the supposedly monotonous greeting got stuck on the roof of his mouth

"The usual, if you please." Nico smirked again, this time even more devilishly pretty "So, what was that whole... staring ordeal about?"

"Can't imagine, finally, it came, the day somebody casually said 'the usual, please.'" Will ironically wiggled his head side to side. He heard the second comment about the "staring ordeal", yet had elected to ignore it.

"Uh huh, and it's sure to stay for a while." The smirk still hadn't left Nico's lips "Was that your sibling?"

"Sure. Whatever. What kind of diabetes-inducing treats would you like today?"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that wasn't something you ought to say as an employee here." Nico glanced toward the glass display "Mango cheesecake, please. At least I'm going to get the fruit required in my diet at once."

"Moral obligation as a medical student, if you don't mind." Will smiled. "That would be $13.67."

Nico handed him the cash, his olive-skin warm and slightly sweaty, "Sure, but right now you're still a barista. Gotta enjoy your summer without such... obligation."

"Who knows, it already invaded my bloodstream." Will handed him back the coins. Nico left for his usual table, bounced jejunely on the ball of his feet, obsidian irises still rested on Will's face

"Maybe lame-ness and boredom had, too, you know. Lucky for us this isn't a Starbuck, or else someone would have to decipher your handwriting."

"Ha, ha, funny little jokester, you truly are." Will rolled his eyes, hands moved to make the macchiato that his muscles had grown to be familiar with.

"See, at least I don't have lame replies to jokes."

"Oh, see, that's because my so-called 'lame replies' are at least humorous enough for everyone to be able to generate a decent reply." Will's eyes were fixed on the cup of coffee, for which he regretted not being able to observe the other man's immediate facial responses.

"If you need to believe so in order to console yourself, go ahead." Nonetheless, Will could imagine Nico dramatically rolled his eyes, again. "Still, you haven't answered my question: Was that your sibling?"

"Yeah, both of them were on the phone, really, but lucky for my ears and dignity that only one of them has the nerve to yell." Will's mind drift about what image should he draw today for Nico's cup

"Bold of you to assume that you have any left after that shout, though." A fox, maybe. A sassy, milky white fox. Perhaps he would let the coffee blend-in enough for the fox to had brown fur.

"Bold of you to assume that you still have any, quoting a meme."

"Hey, one got to catching up with slangs these days, you know. Unlike some cranky old person."

"Whatever ya say, tiny." Will glanced toward the said person, who already brought out his laptop and seemingly about to start typing

"Sure, William, I noticed the floors up there is at least five inches taller than the ground."

Will didn't even bother to correct the name, "I mean, the last time we met outside of this shop, you were still shorter than me."

"Shut your trap, Wilston, I was sitting down." It seemed like Nico somehow knew about the fact that his name really was not William (Will blamed Annabeth. Wasn't she the only one who could disclose that information?) and as of now, just tried to use random names to get a response out of him. Will couldn't stop his laughter this time; he let loose the airy, funny laugh from his lungs. "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing, just that you're playing the exact game my little brother is playing. Except that he actually knows my name, and just want to mess around." The brief laughter died off, yet its corpse remained in the form of a smile on Will's lips.

"Oh."

"And to give more details on your questions. Yes, I have two younger siblings. One male and one female," Will might or might not forget to mention his two older brothers, but that's a story to be developed in later days. A half-covered truth, in this situation, for Will was not a lie. "His name is Austin, and her name, the one that was shouting, is Kayla."

"A handful, they seemed." Nico ruminated

"Well, generally speaking, they're good kids. But yeah, the pranks drove me insane sometimes. Lovely kids, nonetheless." Sometimes, it concerned him how much of a mom he sounded like - how much of a mom he was to them in the absence of their mother; but he didn't utter anything. It wasn't time, yet. "You got any siblings, though? Enough about me."

In a fleeting second, Nico surprised gaze was frozen in place, stilled against the flow of time. He quickly diverted his gaze toward the streets outside, his inky pupil melancholically straitened. Ironically, perhaps, a tint of blue from whatever sign out there reflected its color on his forlorn orbs, then the guy's breathing gradually slowed. Will wondered if he asked the wrong question. Guilt engulfed his gut, sent through his spine a spark of ice, his sense tingled for him to apologize, yet his eyes and soul could not utter a sound, for Nico's woebegone beauteousness was whittled out of glass - elegant yet fragile, merely for eyes to touch yet not for caress to see - and was it a tragic piece of art, for miseries were the element of its painstakingly exquisite portrayal, a burden so cumbersome, yet bleached with tears and bloodshed into a pulchritude. Was it so heartbreaking that this crestfallen beauty required breathing, required blood to stream through its vein, required neurons to send flares of sorrow throughout his body? There would exist neither pain nor beauty without the rushes of life prodding through human's veins, yet such grace was inflicted upon unfeeling woods, and not another beating heart. Was it fair for the universe to sculpt a life into a living art? Was all that was at stake worth the torment to form such transcending elegance: ichor surging through a sculpture of agony, living force pounding against the hewed claw marks? Perhaps the only path to truly touched human's heart through art was to whittle such art upon living beings, for cruelty was only acknowledged after a costly disaster.

Nico suddenly seemed so small and fragile against the friction of time. As if after all those adorned embellishments were peeled away, only the broken, terrified child remain. A child so young yet had already felt such immense sufferings. His stature stiffened, eyes still not dared for any being to see, yet Will had found the scarred child deep within.

Would he shatter if a sound dared to intrude this coagulated silence?

And for Will acknowledged that the man there was human, that life thrived within him unconsciously, he spoke. His voice trembled more than he thought it would be, the agony he felt more than his conscious mind was aware of.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it. I'm sorry if... the subject is sensitive to you."

Will saw the surprise jerk of Nico's shoulder; as if the air his words resonated suddenly shook him awake from his dream. Eyes still lost in the crowded world outside, Nico gently whisper, barely enough for Will to catch

"It's alright..." There is a pause, before his wavering voice steadied itself, "I have a half-sister, Hazel, you probably didn't notice her from the karaoke night."

Something was hidden within such curt and simple reply, yet Will didn't probe. Didn't dare to, and didn't want to. He respected the guy's secrecy, and since there were hidden words in his sentences earlier, it was not fair to further provoking Nico's woe. He brought the cup of coffee and the cake to Nico's table himself this time, the sudden clicks of porcelain against wood once more shook the ebony orbs out of their pondering.

"See, you're not that much taller than me." Nico tried to make a joke, tried to smile instead of a grimace, yet the dusky-colored air around them had yet to fade away. Sorrow clutched into the air, not quite ready to part yet.

"Whatever, kid." Will so desperately wanted to ruffle his hair, to run his calloused hands through Nico's soft onyx locks, like how he often did to console Kayla and Austin's tears, yet found himself not able to. For some reason, he sat down, opposite to Nico, the laptop stood between them like a barrier.

Nico did not comment. His eyes betrayed his defensive stature; they longed for Will to share their pain, for Will to deepened his light into those impossibly dark pits.

"I had a bigger sister, too" was all Nico muttered, the sound waves emitted were so tiny against the movement of air. Will thought he had misheard his words, but beside the quiet, foggy voice, each consonant was clear and void.

Unconsciously, Will's palm reached the other's trembling hand, the quiver so negligible that it was almost impossible to felt. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 taps. A pause. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, again. The steady rhythms gave them something to focus on.

Outside, a summer rain merrily marched its way through the town.

-------

That day, Nico barely got anything written in the shop. First was the mention of his... family, then it was the persistent tapping of Will's gentle fingertips against his hand. The sunlike warmth of his palm left a burnt imprint on Nico's olive-skin. Not that at that point, his brain was in the shape to get anything done.

Honestly, he didn't blame Will. It wasn't like he was a seer or any of the like; the guy didn't know how sensitive he was to the slightest allusion toward Bianca, and it wasn't his fault that their conversation was about siblings and family. If it was anything to go by, in the end, Nico still disclosed the fact that Bianca existed.

Existed. Exists. Existing. Existed.

He no longer sure if it would matter if Will knew about the incident.

--------

"A thickened air of tense quietness embraced the pair before Mei could bring herself to glanced once more into Songoro's eyes. The ambers that she had grown to trust upon were fogged with inquietude and hesitation. The taut, soundless atmosphere felt like extreme humidity; as if every particle in the air was gravitating toward their inner battle, ravenous for the taste of their struggle on some quantum-scaled tongues. The room temperature seemed to drop, the esurient air besieged their breathing, hindered the oxygen exchange. Right, Mei felt suffocated, purely from tense uncertainty and anticipation - suspense for whatever decision they were going to make.

The burden of the world had mushed their lungs together, flat, voided of life.

And thus, so was the plan they schemed. Voided of humanity and compassion, void of empathy and moral. And soon, voided of breathing being.

There was too long yet too little time for Mei to decipher the lines embarked on Songoro's face. Too long the days they spent staring into papers, scheme, and strategies; too little the hours they spent to know the hidden anxiety, the turbulent emotions within their hearts.

Mei was aware of how Songoro often stared into her eyes, discretely, from a respectful reach. Not the way another general drilled into another, piercing his way through her armored arguments to find a sophistry; his gaze was compassionate and empathetic, the very way opposite with the nature of their incoming work, yet she won't complain. They were human, after all, she reminded herself. But the way she remembered the moments when Songoro's ambers were limpid and sharp made it hard to be so, as of right now.

She knew what his eyes meant when he stared at her like that. As if he was trying to decode the misery in her eyes, then gave up and lured himself into a still observation. She knew the poetic way he was assessing her pain. It was ludicrous. She knew that he tempted to convey the torment in her eyes into some crudely stunning arts. That whatever scars and marks were indented on the mahogany of her skin, that he would sketch them as adornments for his sculpture. As if sorrow was exquisite and her body was the gold-varnished embodiment of despair. As if the ichor rushing through her veins and her scars coalesced into diamonds. It made her conscious, now, when the gloom had melted away from her heart. Songoro meant well, Mei reminded herself, despite the inner protest of her mind. How tired she was of compassionate eyes throw their gazes toward her direction -  as if the woe within her was a black hole, gluttonous for empathy. Mei was not craving for their silent consolation, still, the rain of their collective guilt over her past drenched her lungs.

But Songoro was a man of action, one of the only people whose next step was not away from her to nurse their own tears, but toward Mei in her forlorn expression and awkwardly tried to console her. Her mind suddenly drifted toward the steady beat of Phoebe’s fingers against her skin.

Of course, she noticed the hurt in his eyes, too, as it emerged from the ocean of amber he desperately drowned it under. Mei noticed it before, and it was here, at that very moment, as they decide if the sacrifices were going to worth the chance. She saw the perturbation threatened to emerge and devastate his mind; a burden handled so immaculately at the first sight that no one bothers to lingered a bit longer, to see that his barricade was about to shatter into pieces just as glass. There was an invisible responsibility in his shoulder and the weariness it inflicted upon his darkened eyes, a strain that ruptured the gemstones that were his eyes, his dam, his panoply. Mei wondered if there was something else hidden in his silence; a thought so personal and unfathomable that no one could reach into. Countless times she heard the quietest of audible noise escaped his thought before sound succumbed to the roaring silence of their own awkwardness, speechlessness, and guilt. Mei could understand, yet not truly feel, how onerous and harrowing the plan was going to be for Songoro - if there was an unspeakable cause of his hesitancy. Yet, one thought she was certain of amidst the grueling nature of this moment, was that sooner or later, they would need an immense resilience to accept that this was the best they could think of.

The only strength they need was the strength to admit that someone's blood would be on their hand. And that there was no other way.

Thus, Mei squeezed his hand. Firmly. Twice. So that their ideal was spared a chance to blossom."

----------

Hi, finally I’m back with... this kinda slightly longer than before chapter. Thanks to @fififerielb and everyone that enjoyed my previous chapters :3 So sorry this took so long, but life and writer’s block are apparently a thing so..... :cry:

[onestowatch]

Chinatown Slalom Isn’t Afraid of Selling Out on ‘Meet the Parents’ [Q&A]

Photo: Tyrus Hill

It's been almost two years since Liverpool's rising band, Chinatown Slalom, put out their debut album, Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? For months, fans of the four-piece have been waiting patiently for the group to release their EP Meet the Parents. Retaining their organized cacophonous sound and evolving a stronger sense of structure and self-identity, the band continues to create a sonic world full of fun and self-reflection anchored in intoxicating songwriting. 

Ones To Watch was able to chat with the band, comprised of Jake Brettell, Liam Nolan, Mikey Woods, and Ricky Crawford, and discuss “playing the game” in the music industry, magic trees, and of course, Jack Black.

Ones To Watch: At the time of this interview, you're about 24 hours away from the release of Meet the Parents. How are y'all feeling? 

Ricky: The first two singles have been alright, so it's just gonna be nice to see what people think of the rest of it.

Liam: And it's been such a long time coming. Honestly, I don't have any nerves at this point just because it's just a relief to finally start releasing again. We see this as the first step on a ladder, rather than, oh, we need this to do amazingly. We just know it's a long game, and we've got multiple moves to make.

 Is touring something on the horizon for the band?

Jake: Yeah, we're not really set on that right now. Not to rule any possibilities out, but at this minute, the touring scene is pretty bleak, especially in the UK.

What are the COVID restrictions like in the UK right now?

Jake: It doesn't make any sense.

Mikey: It's confusing.

Ricky: Apparently, we're going to be opening up in two weeks—

Liam: but I wouldn't get my hopes up!

Ricky: We'll see what happens, but we're not holding our breath.

Liam: We're like 20 odd-year-old musicians, so we obviously view COVID entirely different from a 60-year-old who's retired. We're just riding this wave. It helps us play to our strengths of being bedroom producers. We were the only part of the music industry that could really keep working the whole time, so we just loaded up on tunes rather than worrying about touring.

There's certainly been a surge in the DIY music scene because of the pandemic.

Liam: To us, it's like punk. It really is the modern definition of punk. So, to do it yourself is the punkest thing.

Ricky: Yeah, and I think that's why there's such a big wave of it coming back through at the minute, because I know that it's so easy for anyone to get into now, but like you just got to dedicate time to it, and you'll get good eventually.

On Meet the Parents, it sounds like y'all have kept this organized chaos while also adding a bit of structure and solidity. While creating this record, what were some things you learned about yourselves as artists?

Ricky: I guess we focused a lot more on making them into songs. They were almost kind of like a musical collage for the first record. I think this time, from the point where they started, they had sort of chords and lyrics, whereas previously, it just been kind of—

Mikey: Improv.

Ricky: Yeah, total improv.

Liam: Yeah, and it's just like how we were describing the EP. We knew we needed to dress up smart and kind of sell ourselves to the world. We kind of consciously did that with the tunes as well. They're packaged a lot tidier than the first project. That was a conscious decision. I think structure is the biggest difference between the first project and the second one. That's what makes it sound a bit more mature and a little bit more accessible. We want to play the game. That is kind of the whole point of the project. We've made so much music that that was wacky and weird, and the people we were working with were saying, “This isn't the next thing.” And then we ended up kind of just using that as a whole concept to make an entirely different project about having to play the game for putting your music out and getting our foot in the door so we can do all the weird things we want to do. It was a realization that, yeah, you can be all wacky and weird, but if no one's listening, this is nothing.

In a Drop The Spotlight article about the EP, y'all talked about the reality of playing the game. You artistically translated that idea of selling out into everything from the title of the record to even your music videos. Can you expand on how you developed this concept?

Liam: I just always think about how Jack Black talks about the man in the music industry. We just kind of flipped the man into being this kind of parent that you have to go and win over before they are happy with you coming around all the time. Like you have to make good first impressions, and that is kind of the whole thing that links the entire project, because we've made so much music that the industry and the label didn't think it was the right thing. So we were just like, fine, let's play this game then. If they really want us to put out hard-hitting projects, then ok fine, but only if you let us put out all these other songs that are really weird and might be a bit more niche for people.

I know this is more of a common question, but I wanted to ask which track is your favorite and least favorite from the record?

Ricky: “Why's You Wanna” is probably my favorite. And then least favorite...

And by least favorite, I don't mean you hate it. Like maybe it was a hard track for you to solidify or was technically challenging.

Ricky: “Love Is Letting Go” has a particularly hard trumpet solo in the middle. It's hard man, but I still love it. It's very close to my heart.

Mikey: My favorite's probably “Arrow in the Thigh,” and I reckon my least favorite is probably "Bet Your Hat." I don't know why. It's hard to choose cause there are only five pieces.

Jake: Yeah, it's tricky because the reason we put them all on the EP is because we like to go against the grain. I'll have to say that "Love Is Letting Go" or “Arrow in the Thigh” is my favorite, and my least favorite is “Bet Your Hat” because it's a little bit more poppy.

Liam: Yeah, my favorite is “Love Is Letting Go” as well. I think it's the best-written song. It's just on the nose, and it says exactly what I wanted it to say without me even realizing what I was going on about at the time. It just worked really well, and the structure is interesting. Like that drop at the end where it all hits in. I just love it. Some bands, and even when we were showing this to our management, said that the drop should come in earlier and that it was coming in too late. They said that people wouldn't wait that long, but for us, that's what it's all about. You have to stick around if you want to hear it, and then you have to replay it again if you want to listen to it again. So I love that one. My least favorite, I would probably agree that it's “Bet Your Hat.” I don't know why. I think we always thought when we were putting it out that everyone would think that we were selling out and that it was too poppy. And then we put it out, and all the magazines and stuff said it was a wacky tune, and look how weird this is. Then we realized that how we view it isn't how the rest of the world views it. We thought it was super poppy, but it was weird to normal people.

So it's safe to say that “selling out” is a subjective term.

Liam: Yeah! And we talked about consciously crossing this line a little bit to play the game, but it's not going to be this way forever. You have to play. We always wanted to come out and say our opinions on everything and be these outspoken people. But The Beatles didn't come out talking about how they were against war and all these political things. They first put the suits on, and they played the game, and they got to a certain place where they had the freedom and the influence to say what they want and affect things. 

“Love Is Letting Go” happens to be one of my favorite tracks, and the live Magic Tree Session y'all did for it was absolutely stunning. Where was this shot, and what was that experience of shooting in an actual tree like?

Ricky: It's this super cool tree in this park near where we live.

Mikey: Yeah, it's two trees that have sort of grown into each other. It's almost like a bird's nest.

Ricky: It has a spiral staircase, not an actual staircase, but it's made of branches.

Mikey: Yeah, a magical staircase in the magic tree.

Ricky: But it has a proper little plateau in the middle that you can all sit around.

Jake: Yeah, like a little grotto.

Mikey: I did have a sore bum by the end though. But anyway, we'd love to do a proper gig in that tree. There's a hill that just goes up away from it, so it feels like it could be a cool festival spot. Or you could do a DJ set.

Are y'all gonna be releasing more Magic Tree sessions, or is the live version of “Love Is Letting Go” going to be a stand-alone release?

Ricky: Yeah, we got some more coming. We recorded each track from one of these weird little locations. So they'll be coming out soon!

Out of the songs that haven't been released yet, which one are you most excited for people to hear?

Jake and Mikey: “Arrow in the Thigh.”

Ricky: It's “Vitamins” for me.

Mikey: Yeah, but “Arrow in the Thigh” is the first time we ever did that free flow. We've gone jazzy.

Jake: Yeah, free flow, bro.

The transition on “Arrow in the Thigh” around the 2:40 mark feels like it preps listeners for the rest of the record. Like you're going down a rabbit hole.

Liam: Yeah, the bit where it all kind of like goes away for a bit and then comes back for the final verse. All those verses, I didn't even realize I didn't even write any of it down. But there's a real poignancy in those lyrics. I don't know why, but every time I listen to them, they resonate with me. I think that's a sign of hopefully really good poetry, where it's not immediately obvious but it still affects you.

Is there a lyric that strongly resonates with you on the record?

Mikey: “Everywhere I look, I see / The patterns form in front of me / I can't help noticing / It might be for something more than this.” That one I like.

Ricky: “None of my flowers grow in my house.” I like that one.

Mikey: Where do you say “naughty step,” Liam?

Liam: “Just leave it there, by the stairs, on the naughty step.”

Mikey: Yeah, that one!

Liam: My favorite is from “Why'd You Wanna Come And Act Like That?” It's like, "I'm setting up my painful lessons / That could make a man a legend / If I want." And I think the lyrics on “Love Is Letting Go” sum up the whole idea of how the grim lessons in life that are at the moment horrible, like, when you look back, it just made you, you. So yeah, that's my favorite. Oh! I also love that opening line of “Vitamins.” "So I go to the house / With my bludgeon and trowel / I wanna dig some dirt, I wanna dig some dirt / I wanna pick some brains and ask them what they know." I love it because it all came out in one go, and I was like, "Oh my god, the bludgeons are for the brains and the trowels for the dirt." I was just amazed it worked, and it surprised me that the lines actually made sense, because it's so weird. Like who says bludgeons and trowels?

Apparently, you do! And “Vitamins” as a closer feels, at least sonically, like you can finally relax after a night of having to "meet the parents" and pretending to be someone else.

Liam: Yeah, exactly that's the way it works, and it ties back into the whole idea of the project and trying to say like, "Oh, we'll play the game. We won't show our cards. We won't show our full opinions," and then "Vitamins" hits. That track is just totally honest about what we think about the world. The line "dig some dirt" and "pick some brains" is like us saying I want to find the truth. That's what it's really saying. I think that's why it's good to close, because, hopefully, it can lead to more projects about becoming more confident about being more blunt. When I showed this song to people I don't think they realized just how blunt it is about the world we're in right now. But then again, I kind of like that. I like when people don't get what I mean, and it's up for a whole different interpretation.

The music videos y'all have released for this EP also tie into the overall themes we've discussed. Everything from the colors to the camera angles feels intentional to the story. What was it like working with Harry Deadman?

Ricky: He's so easy to work with.

Jake: He's so efficient.

Ricky: Yeah, and I think we really liked him because of his color usage. Everything that he does just really pops.

Liam: Yeah, that and his camera usage. That really drew us to him. Working with a team of people around just always makes us feel weird. It makes us feel like we're in... what's the name of that Will Ferrell film?

Jake, Mikey, Ricky: Zoolander!

Liam: Yeah, Zoolander! That's always the way it makes us feel. It's kind of like an out-of-body experience with all of those people around.

Mikey: Yeah, but Harry is amazing.

Ricky: The house we were at for the “Why'd You Wanna” video was crazy. Some Bitcoin billionaire owned it. I think some Drill rapper hired out the same house to do a music video.

Where did you draw inspiration from while creating Meet the Parents?

Mikey: God, where to begin.

Rickey: I think we found inspiration from older stuff that we listened to rather than modern artists.

Mikey: Yeah, like more stuff from the ‘60s and ‘70s.

Ricky: Which I guess kind of goes with the whole concept of Meet the Parents.

Jake: Yeah, cause a lot of parents are from that era.

Liam: I think honestly, what makes us so so weird and different from other bands is that we kind of isolate ourselves musically, and we kind of obsess over our tunes so much that we don't spend, or at least I don't spend that much time listening to the other artists unless I'm like out for a walk. I honestly think that that's what makes it original. Because we aren't totally trying to find influences, we can kind of just experiment. And then naturally, because you've not been totally engrossed in other people's music, I think it just sounds different to what's being made at the time.

Ricky: Yeah, starving yourself with inspiration too.

Mikey: Yeah, it's all quite subconscious. Quite subconscious in every sense. Like the way Liam comes up with the words and making a beat, you just kinda go with it.

Jake: Yeah, the song emerges from that.

Mikey: Yeah, and I suppose inspiration is subconscious as well. It's in the corner of my mind somewhere, and I don't know where it's coming from.

Liam: It's not like we sit down and go, “I want to make a song that sounds like this, about this.” Like, I don't think we've ever really done that. It's always spontaneous and a bit random.

Mikey: Yeah, usually we're putting it together like a jigsaw. We always used to say that we're throwing glitter at the canvas and just shaking it. And we just keep doing that repeatedly until it's finished, basically.

Ricky: It's a slow process at times, but I think we come up with something interesting.

Mikey: Yeah, sometimes it comes in in a day nearly. But for others, we've also been making some tunes for almost a year-and-a-half, sometimes longer. The biggest inspiration is usually just a good catchy song. If it doesn't matter where it comes from, but if it's a sick, catchy song, that is inspiring.

Liam: We like the type of pop that transcends being called pop anymore, because they're that weird but also that influential that it is just them. Like from The Beatles to Madonna, they're all kind of pop but none of it sounds the same.

“Pop” is just short for popular or mainstream.

Liam: Exactly, but I think in most people's heads, it has this sound to it, but I don't think it does to us. Like, you can make it as weird as you want, and if a lot of people like it, then it's pop.

Meet the Parents is available everywhere you can stream it. 

[corviid-craft]

what’s the difference between goth and emo,, i know there is one but like how do you spot the difference

-OH BIY GLAD YOU ASK ALLOW ME TO EXPLAIN IN GREAT (unnecessary) DETAIL. basically it’s just how they present themselves, the culture behind the styles, and how serious they take it.

let’s start with emo’:

now, there is no intentional bashing going to be had on anyone’s style, hell, i USED to have this style back in middle school. but i’m not particularly an expert on any of these so keep that in mind. so let’s start with the physical aspect of it. (i’m on mobile so forgive me if this isn’t as put together bullet point wise, i’ll do my best)

•choppy hair. bangs are usually straight, long, and the ends are extremely feathered to the point of almost looking like old anime hair. girls and boys have relatively the same kind of hair, except some might have it be longer. depends on their personal preference.•band t-shirts and hoodies. this can expand from mcr to older bands like metallica. memorabilia like this is worn and loved to death do they part. •smudged eyeliner. now if the person is a committed emo, they might go for the makeup. generally dark, smudged, and it probably derives from past grunge aesthetics (which is a whole different thing which i’m NOT getting into, it would take too long)

culture of emo: •typical emo bands or old bands as previously mentioned, i can’t think of any off the top of my head•being misunderstood my parents, peers, public in general. a lot of emo’s have gone through trauma such as abuse, as far as i’ve seen. the style and community became a comfort and the feeling of belonging to a community different from people who bully them for obscure tastes appeals. (personal experience haha) •most of the culture revolves around music and the bands that influenced the style with their clothing and mannerisms. fob, mcr, and p!atd were the holy trinity™ and top is now a part of it, though it isn’t from the original three

now GOTHS

here’s the thing, i can make tbis post about the “typical” goth you would think of first when hearing the word, but if i really wanna be accurate, i really CAN’T without mentioning all the subculture and styles of goth in this category. nu goth, old(?) goth, cyberpunk goth, etcetra etcetra, are all UNIQUE au styles of goth. i’m not exactly versed in this style either but i will be talking about the “typical” style as best as i can, forgive me if i get anything wrong

physical aspect of goth:•a lot more put together style wise in general. clothing appear more refined, obviously black like emo but with inspired from its victoria era roots. dresses and suits, frills and layers of all kinds. jewelry as well! it’s crazy•white makeup, extremely detailed. i’ve seen goth youtubers who say they take HOURS doing their makeup everyday! it’s a hellava commitment. pale skin for emulating europeans (although people with dark skin can do this just fine without the light skin!!!! the victorian era was in europe guys give me a break i’m poc too for crying out loud) in the victorian era and dark makeup for the symbolism of grieving•almost doll-like? like it’s incredible how some of these people look like dolls guys just. look it up

cultural aspect of goth:•inspired my the victorian era. GONNA GO ON A BIT OF A SHORT HISTORY LESSON HERE.•ok so basically in the victorian era, queen victoria wore black for the rest of her life after her husband died. what an icon. the architecture was dark, cathedralistic, you know the type. the people would hang out in graveyards because that’s where they could enjoy the flora and fauna since everything else was just drab city back in ye olde times. gargoyles, funerals from mass deaths, y'all got me. basically this style is to emulate queen victoria’s style and aesthetic but with still modern qualities. grief plays a big role if i’m correct? ya know, coffins and dark poetry of death and grieving. that’s as much as i know though.

now i’m not gonna sit there and say this is ALL TO THESE STYLES. obviously not. but i’m on mobile and it’s been like 40 minutes and i wanna play botw. but yeah. GOTH BF IS NOT THE SAME AS EMO BF AND EVEN THOUGH THEY SHARE SIMILAR QUALITIES, THEY ARE NOT THE SAME!!!! there are lots of different styles though so some are more similar than others. i need a nap.

[t--o--f--u-blog]

☼☼☼☼☼ also think tank a white lecturer using the n-word when quoting literature in a lecture? I think she used it once outside of quotation as well certainly not meant in a disrespectful way, just seems unnecessary

☐☐☐☐☐ better have a justification at least but if you just use it out of the blue it always seems like some attempt at provocation 'i can say this because my interests are purely academic'

☼☼☼☼☼ mmmmm we're reading uncle tom's cabin, so it's hard to avoid

☐☐☐☐☐ should only be quoted verbatim if absolutely necessary, if there's no alternative I think

☼☼☼☼☼ yeah seems like she could have avoided it pretty easily

☐☐☐☐☐ if she's making no acknowledgement of the word's relationship to her privilege, that's rly not good

☼☼☼☼☼ yeah she's older so there might just be an outdated perspective there 'I'm just quoting the text, it was anti-slavery so I'm fine' sort of mentality maybe?

☐☐☐☐☐ still she would know about the contemporary attitude to the word and she should at least mention that! ugh like it doesn't sound malicious or super super racist, but eh

☼☼☼☼☼ Yeah I feel iffffy about it

☐☐☐☐☐ should mention it!

☼☼☼☼☼ Trying to work out if I should send email and if so how to word it

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ be interesting to actually properly discuss it

☐☐☐☐☐ yep

☍☍☍☍☍ heck I’d be interested to know more of a history of the word basically teach properly why its offensive

☼☼☼☼☼ Yeah, I might bring it up in the tutorial different teacher, but maybe good discussion

☐☐☐☐☐ mm that seems appropriate i'd love to hear how that goes

☍☍☍☍☍ uhhh there was someone who used it at Bar Oussou  the host reallllly should’ve said something and I normally would but just too tired for confrontation

☼☼☼☼☼ Yeah ☐☐☐☐☐ was telling me Sounded very cringe

☐☐☐☐☐ v unfortunate most disappointed in yhe host tbh

☐☐☐☐☐ he maybe had a old-worldy attitude to it and didn't mind or was too cowardly lol which do u think?

☍☍☍☍☍ I think he thought it was in the context of the poem she didn’t use it to degrade someone directly, but the word itself is degrading

☐☐☐☐☐ ugh but the poem is in the context of fuckin oussou yep ppl need to have a think before using words

☍☍☍☍☍ I just think its great to have a stage to do emotional work, but it can cross a line into normalising shitty white behaviour

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ I went to a coloured school so I can’t b racist wah wah wah

☐☐☐☐☐ and you have to consider your audience if your rant is dehumanising or brushes aside/causes suffering u gotta reconsider felt pretty ashamed on behalf of bartender/various black audience members not saying that dumb white shit would be acceptable with a different audience, but her obliviousness was kinda astounding

☼☼☼☼☼ wow yeah cringefest

☍☍☍☍☍ lol spoken word scene as a whole can b so lame haha rings true to why I/we left

☐☐☐☐☐ mm so macho! that's what I liked about talkbox some sensitivity there, gentleness

☍☍☍☍☍ still, I just wish people read more lok *lol

☐☐☐☐☐ yep I wish I read more

☍☍☍☍☍ like the stylistic range is generally pretty lame

☐☐☐☐☐ I guess that's why anyone reads mmm

☍☍☍☍☍ I wish I read more too

☐☐☐☐☐ hahahaha

☼☼☼☼☼ :')

☍☍☍☍☍ don’t mean to shit on everyon, I just think the scene as a whole and the conception of poetry is lacklustre - it doesn’t seem like the time for poetry, sometimes

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ ppl too distracted by netflix uwu sounds like phones but too much

☐☐☐☐☐ doesn't seem like the time for art, sometimes! hahhh

☍☍☍☍☍ its definitely a time for music

☼☼☼☼☼ I think there's a place for poetry It's just raps and memes

☍☍☍☍☍ yeh but I play dat long game there might not b a place now but I’mma fkn make one whether you like it or not lol

☼☼☼☼☼ Oh yeah fair go 4 it

☐☐☐☐☐ loll

☍☍☍☍☍ I just mean that I think 'poetry' has evolved into other forms, and now the traditional form is struggling to find a place I mean does anyone pay attention to Victorian satirical cartoons? I don’t I think it’s also tho that the low brow is more apparent in the moment, the high brow more apparent from a distance the shit sinks, basically

☼☼☼☼☼ elaborate?

☍☍☍☍☍ time brings forward higher brow material while a lot of lower brow stuff falls back or like there’s an art for getting through your days, and there’s an art for elaborate long form spiritual liberation

☼☼☼☼☼ so u don't mind about a lack of audience now if your work has staying power?

☍☍☍☍☍ different works have different digestion time and yes that is what I’m saying

☼☼☼☼☼ hmmmmmmm

☍☍☍☍☍ hmmmmmmmm?

☐☐☐☐☐ personally I don't know whether I'm prioritising the reception of my work or its value to me right now i feel poetry/art in general are useful tools for thinking about the world useful philosophical tools i guess and idk whether i'm learning for the sake of my own knowledge/making 'better' art or learning so what I put out into the world is better received I suppose the two aren't mutually exclusive but yeah - feeling fairly indifferent to the idea of creating work that will persist right now part of me feels more comfortable with being lost forever lol or at least that I should become comfortable with that, bc that is what will happen inevitably

☍☍☍☍☍ I just think in this atmosphere of complete denial of the arts as an important component of society, as well as the stigmatisation of ritual and other mystical practices that used to house what we now might describe as an artist, its important that we follow our intuition rather than give in to a system that routinely prevents us having access to basic resources like I want to be there for whoever is there when this period comes to end and those peoples are looking for anything to rudder them, whether or not I’m alive

☐☐☐☐☐ you want to add to the cultural record?

☍☍☍☍☍ I want provide a map for future generations is how I would put it

☐☐☐☐☐ mm how do you feel one can ensure the persistence of their own work? or are you just hoping it'll be around for others I suppose whether or not anything lasts is out of ur control past a certain point

☍☍☍☍☍ for one I make an effort to give away a lot of work

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ I also store it all and make sure that that stockpile is kept w care but I also think there’s something to be said that I try and operate within many pre-existing canons I also it’s important to use the more meme-y, short stay work to bring attention to the slower works yeah, re: canons, like tanka and before that wakka as poetic forms stem back as far as a thousand years - perhaps more by putting myself in conversation with the ancients... idk it feels a bit like entering a cultural refrigerator haha

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ sometimes I find it better to see my individual works as modules that make up a whole more prescient than its parts (Morton lolz) soo... maybe my work won’t carry the same weight until I finish, so to speak who knowsss but this how I think about it lol

☐☐☐☐☐ best to try and contribute something I spose rather than do nothing w ur resources

☍☍☍☍☍ I’m weird with this shit u don’t have to be

☐☐☐☐☐ mm it seems fairly simple to me and not that weird

☍☍☍☍☍ not everyone should spend their life tending their gravestone it’s a job for a particular type of person, and I am it

☐☐☐☐☐ but in a sense everyone does anyway everyone does things with the future in mind or without it in mind I suppose

☐☐☐☐☐ and i guess that influences what you leave when you die eheh, whether you do it consciously or unconsciously

☍☍☍☍☍ I just am particularly stubborn that I have something to offer - I think its partially a result of being denied that a lot in school, I found other ways to have social bonds that were more... non linear bonds with past peoples, and inadvertently bonds with future people

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ I find it frustrating that its seen as arrogant to suggest your work should be read after you die - if anything its remarkably humble as I'm acknowledging that I will never properly see the fruits of my labour it's a ridiculously isolating position to find oneself in, where your best friends - books, music, content - have no form of human intimacy with you and completely defy all survivalistic, lizard-brain humanity plus you're just on a total different dimension from most people you meet

☐☐☐☐☐ mm you're in a very specific position here

☍☍☍☍☍ lol goodluck catching up ☼☼☼☼☼

☼☼☼☼☼ unrelated btw

(☼☼☼☼☼ posts a meme in chat)

☍☍☍☍☍ see y'all @ da rally (in reference to the meme)

☐☐☐☐☐ where and when is this? oh oops thought you meant a real one

☼☼☼☼☼ hahaha

☍☍☍☍☍ xD

☼☼☼☼☼ structurally is the meme ok ? took the photo the other day, and just added the text.

☍☍☍☍☍ yes are u going to weigh in on the conversation tho lol

☼☼☼☼☼ nah not really

☍☍☍☍☍ meme fine

☼☼☼☼☼ I have so little to add

☍☍☍☍☍ well hm why make memes? why not write novel? do memes have staying power?

☐☐☐☐☐ it's a question of what timescale is important to you at any given time maybe

☍☍☍☍☍ oh absolutely - not trying to infer a hierarchy here, I just think there are different approaches for different problems

☐☐☐☐☐ sometimes I'll say something to someone so they'll remember it for tomorrow, sometimes I'll say something to someone and hope they'll remember forever lol mm I don't think I care about staying power that much

☐☐☐☐☐ memes have such a short lifetime, they're like cultural mayflies haha

☼☼☼☼☼ Yeah defs

☍☍☍☍☍ why tho lol

☼☼☼☼☼ Because the art itself can date while still inspiring change

☍☍☍☍☍ yeah so using it pragmatically like a single use tissue

☼☼☼☼☼ If you create something short lived, it (with the help of other artists producing similar work) is able to push art and society in a specific direction The butterfly effect I guess

☍☍☍☍☍ it's true that you have more effect in the current conversation

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ but that conversation draws intensively on a language formed by the ancients so the two are dependent on each other, a back and forth

☐☐☐☐☐ and that's dependent on their work's longevity?

☍☍☍☍☍ not following ur question

☐☐☐☐☐ not following your point haha hmm

☼☼☼☼☼ so you're suggesting a works longevity is crucial in that it helps reinforce and update the ancient language in which short term work of the future will be influenced by?

☐☐☐☐☐ mm also - what if of all the work you make, it's only a meme that survives the passage of time?

☍☍☍☍☍ basically... like you're just reiterating points that have been made more in depth in 'higher' brow culture - that's definitely how I feel when writing raps

☐☐☐☐☐ like Roman graffiti surviving on the walls or whatever

☍☍☍☍☍ did you a hear copy of the I Ching, the Chinese numerology classic more than a thousand years old, was found in the 70s and had a heap more sections and a different order? effectively completely changing the understanding of the I Ching gotta get those nice lead storage chambers ayyyyy ahahaha it was found buried in a coffin, obvs haha

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ a lot of Chinese philosophers only exist in so much as someone else described them

☼☼☼☼☼ But what does that changing of contexts of that piece actually mean for us? Is updated Ching from the coffin helping us in any way?

☍☍☍☍☍ I think for me finding the I Ching and looking over it is like a person in a thousand years finding a functional iPhone it gives great insight into human impulses regardless of time and offers a way of writing the past a new, which in turn presents a new future (thinking of the cowboy article you sent me) reconceptualizing the past IS the future look at 'Make America Great Again' or calls to restore the caliphate both are founded on histories that have more to do with our current state than the actual happenings of the past

☼☼☼☼☼ I do see where you're coming from I like the idea that it's important to preserve our work for understand the past better And I hope that someone in the future will have a clearer understanding of our time through your well preserved works But what fucking future is it

☍☍☍☍☍ haha but like looking back we see people been asking that for a veeery long time I get it seems on a new scale but we're on a new scale too

☼☼☼☼☼ It does seem that yes Also if we do survive and keep on teching on

☍☍☍☍☍ I'm for an integration of the human/natural binary where we properly acknowledge our mutual codependency, the earth and humanity that is

☼☼☼☼☼ Are we even going to be translatable? Is the functioning iPhone found by the future person going to even be able to be translated? Or will it be meaningless because everyone is already part of the grid

☍☍☍☍☍ where artificially effecting the climate for the benefit of 'nature' isn't seen as strange but completely akin to Aboriginal burn back practices

☐☐☐☐☐ i guess it's productive to hope that it will be translatable

☍☍☍☍☍ we've always interfered in the running of nature

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ ehhh idk we translated fucking hieroglyphics

☼☼☼☼☼ Or future tech can look into the past and someone is watching our lives as we type this now, constantly being understood through our context in a way we can't comprehend through our recording processes shrugs

☍☍☍☍☍ I mean yeah, imagine if the internet was even vaguely archived

☼☼☼☼☼ You probably have a better understanding of how the future will pan out than I do tho

☍☍☍☍☍ even if 0.1 % was kept, it would be a massive resource

☼☼☼☼☼ No sass intended there, I'm sincere

☍☍☍☍☍ lol idk I just try to see a bigger picture and it keeps me calm remember me old saying? we survived the plague and nukes lol

☼☼☼☼☼ I just don't see the issue with creating short term work, especially if it is preserved

☍☍☍☍☍ oh neither do I

☼☼☼☼☼ Like a meme may have more impact than a novel rn

☐☐☐☐☐ well it could be argued that we're yet to survive nukes but I see your point impact on various timescales

☼☼☼☼☼ I've heard the plague make be thinking of making a comeback too haha

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☍☍☍☍☍ oh duh peasantry is fully hip rn

☐☐☐☐☐ but like

☍☍☍☍☍ bring back the boils, they look great with my Balenciaga sneakers

☐☐☐☐☐ lol bubonic chic

☼☼☼☼☼ Pretty close to heroin chic tbh haha

☍☍☍☍☍ not jking that was tb

☐☐☐☐☐ but like, I don't find a huge amount of solace in the fact that we survived the plague

☍☍☍☍☍ "The Victorians romanticized the disease and the effects it caused in the gradual build to death. For decades, many beauty standards emulated or highlighted these effects. And as scientists gained greater understanding of the disease and how it was spread, the disease continued to keep its hold on fashion. and the severity of the corsets was known to harm the lungs in such a way that would increase the likelihood of transmission LOOOL

☐☐☐☐☐ mm Balenciaga look out idk it's a question of what capacity we survive in

☼☼☼☼☼ lollllll

☐☐☐☐☐ quite depressing to think about

☍☍☍☍☍ eating disorders have a pretense

☐☐☐☐☐ what if ecocide leaves a few insular eco fascist regimes who gradually diminish over centuries always engaged in pointless wars of attrition with one another lol

☍☍☍☍☍ I mean you could probably say the same thing of colonial regimes now

☐☐☐☐☐ just because we can survive, doesn't mean my outlook should b at all rosy :((

☍☍☍☍☍ point is its a big ol' world that has plenty of room for pain AND love any future pain you think is imminent probably already is happening, and nonetheless breakfast tasted good this morning

☼☼☼☼☼ 'The hipster middle class would dress with raggedy beards and large jackets and refuse to use deodorant, perhaps to reflect the look of people suffering from homelessness at the time. It is suspected that this made them less likely to be hired, and therefore more likely to become homeless themselves.'  ☍☍☍☍☍ ahahaha

☐☐☐☐☐ mm that's true hahhh

☼☼☼☼☼ Planning on making this into a full essay. Might not be popular now, but I think it has staying power? Soz for shitposting haha

☍☍☍☍☍ I was talking with ☲☲☲☲☲ a while back, and something struck me - she said, "I never thought this age would have its own fleet of particular medical conditions." (or something like that lol, translated via my nerd brain)

☼☼☼☼☼ Yeah that didn't quite sound like her But that sentiment is great

☍☍☍☍☍ 'fleet'

☼☼☼☼☼ In that ofc there is, but also wow yeah ofc!

☐☐☐☐☐ mmm hahh these conversations should be recorded so we can all think about em without scrolling up endlessly

☼☼☼☼☼ I do like the idea of people reading these works in the future tho

☐☐☐☐☐ and also so that they can be preserved for 10,000+ years of course

☼☼☼☼☼ In the same way we read the letters sent between dead artists now

☐☐☐☐☐ mm very true

☍☍☍☍☍ mmm

☐☐☐☐☐ messenger is not a particularly stable storage medium and also is more vulnerable to third party scrutiny although the fact we're reading artists letters now means that medium is also pretty fucking vulnerable to scrutiny lol

☍☍☍☍☍ I fucking found the word! (sorry was searching for it so hard) Neurasthenia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neurasthenia

☼☼☼☼☼ Americanitis lol

☍☍☍☍☍ uhh the page doesn't rly talk about this, but its like a condition of over-working effectively, and people would try and get prescribed the pills to treat it as a way of signalling they were a dedicated worker its total hokey

☐☐☐☐☐ wow yeah you mentioned this a while back

☼☼☼☼☼ oh I've heard a similar thing in Japan were workers will pretend to fall asleep at their desks to show how hard they're working No idea the trust behind it tho

☍☍☍☍☍ to this day, "In Japan, shinkei-suijaku is treated with Morita therapy involving mandatory rest and isolation, followed by progressively more difficult work, and a resumption of a previous social role. The diagnosis is sometimes used as a disguise for serious mental illnesses such as schizophrenia and mood disorders." a dignified mental illness uwu none of that lower class shit I'm a classy fuck with money, I don't get the same mental conditions as the poor lolol reminds me of now: I don't have shitty parents, I just have adhd (not to deligitimise all uses of adhd, just over diagnosed)

☼☼☼☼☼ mmmmm i feel u yes this has been a wild ride

☍☍☍☍☍ yes I’m leaving to get late lunch uwu have a good day in this cosmic spider web lololol

☼☼☼☼☼ :')

☍☍☍☍☍ Like the burning of this charcoal fire, our years too will soon expire Kobayashi Issa listening to Krista Tippet talk with Maria Popova, this particular phrase resonated with our conversation: we live in a world where disruption over-fetishised; we need cultural stewardship to help along new waves of disruption

☼☼☼☼☼ How would u define cultural stewardship in a practical sense?

☍☍☍☍☍ caring for the legacy of those past as a means of refreshing their insight for a new age a very straightforward example would b the importance of new translations, in this regard - as our understanding and depth of connection to Japanese society has deepened, so too have our translations dusting off the books so to speak in some sense I see that in our music too or reappropriating to a new context

☼☼☼☼☼ Well remasters are a time terry literal example Fuck

☍☍☍☍☍ time terry

☼☼☼☼☼ Pretty* not time terry lol

☼☼☼☼☼ lime berry yeah exactly

☼☼☼☼☼ Slime Jerry

☍☍☍☍☍ I mean rereleasing is an obvs example mhm but more abstract examples are how I’ve exported into both your brains Bridle/Steyerl/Haraway via conversation and art lolol I’m helping it move from one place to another same w Zappa lol

☐☐☐☐☐ also - looking after artist friends being generous I feel these are acts of pre-emptive cultural stewardship

☍☍☍☍☍ haha yeah definitely different time scales it could function on

☐☐☐☐☐ looking after and maintain communities

☍☍☍☍☍ hosting open mics lol helping teach ppl poetry lollll

☐☐☐☐☐ not allowing hate speech to creep into open mics lol

☼☼☼☼☼ Truuuuu Or anywhere for that matter

☐☐☐☐☐ not becoming so dusty that you actually have a detrimental impact on cultural progression

☍☍☍☍☍ I think religions only exist in so far as they have active practitioners

☐☐☐☐☐ mm

☼☼☼☼☼ Tru

☍☍☍☍☍ I think my sense is, in religion, this same argument plays out with orthodoxy versus mysticism Maintenance of buildings is in there too for religion People being assigned paid positions as the keepers and givers of religious knowledge oh yeah thinking a lot here of Shanzai, ☐☐☐☐☐, and the idea of an object as a lived practice

☐☐☐☐☐ when home I'm gonna do my best to archive this conversation mmm

☍☍☍☍☍ you’re going to steward our conversation bout stewardship ...

☐☐☐☐☐ this is all going in

☍☍☍☍☍ ...the tv where I am says “The comedian getting behind ‘Know Thy Nuts’” and there are big walnuts on the screen

☐☐☐☐☐ ???????

☍☍☍☍☍ “I didn’t realise chemotherapy would be such great comedic material!”

☐☐☐☐☐ ¿¿¿¿¿¿

☼☼☼☼☼ Huhhhh

☍☍☍☍☍ lol highly recommend https://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/on-being-with-krista-tippett/id150892556?mt=2&i=1000429408054https://itunes.apple.com/au/podcast/on-being-with-krista-tippett/id150892556?mt=2&i=1000429408054