#millennial grey go fuck yourself

[beauty-proof]

People dunking on Millennial Grey as if there wasn't an economic reason behind its origins smh.

I got my first apartment in 2012 during the Recession. Gotta get furnishings! And towels and linens and dishes etc. For each of these things, guess what boring, undesirable color you could always count on, waiting at the bottom of the discount bin? Grey.

You could get a teal (the coveted color of the time) set of dishes for $20, but the grey was $15. You're broke with zero savings because you're just starting out. You recognize that your job could go bye-bye at any moment, and it will be *extremely difficult* to get a new one.

You choose the grey. You choose it so often that you start to automatically seek out the grey. Suddenly, everything you own is grey, and once in a while you'll allow yourself to indulge in a bright (teal?!) accent to liven up the place. But that's it.

Then one day everything is fucking pink and bright yellow (HELL yeah!) and everyone is telling you how boring you are for having been poor a decade ago. Like you would have chosen the grey if you had an actual choice.

[wolveria]

The Haunted Heart - Chapter 1

Pairing: Ghost!Nines x Reader

Summary: You knew buying an old, creepy house would come with its own set of problems, but you never expected one of them to take the form of a tall, grey-eyed specter. One who was bitter, filled with anger, and determined to make your life miserable until you moved back out again.

You weren't going anywhere. He may have had two hundred years of boiling resentment toward the living, but you were an exhausted Millennial with no money. Unstoppable force meets immovable object.

Prompt: Inspired by Sleepy Hollow, Casper, and @uh-kitty-got-wet

Warnings: Rated E, eventual smut, spooky ghosts, seducing the supernatural

AO3

Living in a haunted house was not the ideal choice. It wasn’t even in the top five on your bucket list.

But when you saw the foreclosed house for sale at such a reasonable price, and you were sick to death of your shitty apartment in the city, well… you got haunted.

Sometimes, these things happened. More often than not, they happened to you, and you wondered what you did to deserve it as something fell and broke in the kitchen. While you were in the living room twenty feet away.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled under your breath. This was the fifth possession of yours that had broken this week alone. You’d only been living here a month, and already you were considering the perks of burning down the house and collecting on the insurance.

Except you didn’t have insurance. Or money. Or anywhere else to go. So you trudged into the kitchen and sighed at the broken plate, which had been very firmly placed in the sink. A sink so deep no plate could have fallen out unless it had grown hands and feet and decided to crawl out.

That’s not what had happened at all, of course. You weren’t losing your mind and you weren’t imagining things.

“Could you stop breaking my shit?” you said to no one. You hoped no one heard you, and that no one would stop being the world’s biggest asshole. “I’m not leaving, so suck it up, Casper.”

After the glass shards were swept up and dumped into the trash, you returned to the living room where you’d been in the middle of unboxing your belongings. You didn’t have much, and the house came furnished, but it had been slow going when all your stuff kept disappearing or breaking.

Speaking of the house’s furnishings, you gave a glare to the extremely old brocade furniture and the tacky crosses hung up on the walls. If you’d actually had any money, you would have hired an interior decorator, because no one wanted to live in Norman Bates’ house.

Your resident poltergeist must have taken the hint, because there were no more shenanigans for the rest of the day. Nothing aside from the ominous creaking of the floorboards or the unsettling settling of the house’s bones. Part of you still couldn’t believe this place was yours, but you were determined to make it a home before it was all said and done.

No man, living or dead, was going to stop you when you set your mind to something, and your mind was set on domesticating a haunted house.

But the house wasn’t the problem. It was the entity who lurked inside.

***

You set your last packed book on the ancient bookshelf. The thing looked two hundred years old, but after you’d dusted and polished the dark wood, it had actually looked really nice. You didn’t know bubkes about antique furniture, but it was sturdy and would probably last longer than you did.

Gratified at a job well done, you dusted off your hands and planned to make yourself a late night snack and zone out on your laptop. Continue that show you were binge-watching or indulge in a Halloween movie. Maybe even see if the boiler was working and you could take a nice hot bath—

Thud.

Slowly, very slowly, so slowly it would have been funny to anyone watching, you turned and stared at the book lying on the floor.

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled, but you ignored common sense and walked over to the book, picked it up, and put it back on the shelf.

You turned away, walked exactly six feet, and another thud sounded from behind you.

You took a deep breath, told yourself it was fine, everything was fine—

Thud-thud.

You whirled around, heart leaping in your throat. Three books lay on the floor now, all from different shelves.

Before you could think about taking a step forward, another book was pulled down. And another.

With a violence you hadn’t seen before, the books all came out of the shelf at once, almost reaching you from the force used to dislodge them.

You flinched back, nearly stumbling on a wrinkle in the rug, the fear you’d been denying hammering away in your chest, but as you so often did lately, your terror curdled into bitter anger.

“Oh, fuck you! Fuck you, you son of a bitch!”

The silent, still room echoed back your obscenities. With a shaky hand you rubbed your face. What were you still doing here? This was insane, and you were the idiot in the horror movie who the audience was rooting for to be murdered first.

But where else could you go?

Tears prickled your eyes. It was unfair. You didn’t deserve this, not after everything—

“This one isn’t going to last long. She’s cracked.”

You whirled around for a second time. There was a man standing behind you, the owner of the low, drawling voice. He was dressed in an old-fashioned black overcoat with a high collar and a series of buttons that traveled all the way down his torso. His dark brown hair was neatly combed, a stray lock brushing his forehead, and his eyes were grey and cold.

The man was pale, far too pale, and there was a mocking twist to his lips.

“Mad as a hatter,” he added. You almost turned your head to see if he was speaking to someone else. But there was no one. Just you.

“Excuse me?” For the moment, you were too confused and a little bit offended to be terrified. Or maybe you were in shock.

The smirk dropped off his face, and his eyes widened as if he too were confused.

“You can see me?”

“Uh… yeah?” You swallowed hard, trying to speak past your dry mouth. “I can see you.”

“Oh,” was all he said, exhaling the word in a breathless manner. But he didn’t need to breathe, did he?

“Who are you?” you asked, hoping to buy time enough for the universe to start making sense again. Or for you to wake up from the strange nightmare you were trapped within. “Why are you in my house?”

But the man, or the ghost, or whatever he was, wasn’t keen on having a conversation. Instead, with that panicked look as if he were the one seeing a spirit, he quickly turned and walked through the archway that led to the kitchen.

“Wait!”

Despite your instincts telling you to run the other way, you chased after him, bursting through the doorway to find the hallway empty. You pulled your jacket closed and shivered, but aside from your breath fogging in front of you, there was nothing else out of place.

Leaning against the archway, you braced your head against the wood and took another deep breath.

Well, shit, you thought. Casper is real.

That, or someone was playing a very cruel trick on you. Fishing wires and hidden trap doors could explain the creepy phenomena, but your gut told you it wasn’t a trick. The surprise on the man’s face was too genuine, as was the unnatural pallor of his skin.

Only one thing left to do: find a way to make contact with the tall ghost with eyes the color of tombstones.

[vanishingpod]

Sunday Audio Drama Recs!

Happy Sunday from Team Vanishing Act! Here are four more shows we love that we think you will love too! 

1) Death By Dying: This show is an all time Hall of Fame favorite round these parts (these parts being our hearts? I guess, idk, lost the trail of that metaphor). Death By Dying is about the Obituary Writer in a small town, and every episode is centered around an obituary he is writing (or will write by the end of the episode). There is literally nothing we don’t love about this show, from it’s dark, wry tone to its hilarious worldbuilding to its genuine creepiness to its ability to turn on a dime from silly to genuinely melancholic and deeply touching. There are so many memorable characters (the Button-Eyed Raven, the Slapper, Pastor Jeff) and bits (the apricot battle in the town market, OW’s immaculate fashion sense, Gert, the line “he wasn’t the talk of the town, but he was the talker of the town”) Over the course of the five main-plot episodes it goes on a truly, insanely well-crafted journey with one of those tone shifts in the last act that feels at once like a huge twist but also inevitable and right. It reminds me so much of Over the Garden Wall in its final episode and I mean that in the best way possible--spooky and dark but also oddly comforting, existentially sad but also life affirming and hopeful. This show means a lot to us here and we hope you’ll give it a shot. Find them @deathbydyingpod​

2) Windfall: Alright it’s acton-adventure time, y’all! This show has it all: a full, sweeping instrumental score; a sprawling large-cast fantasy/sci-fi action adventure vibe; reluctant, flawed, morally grey heroes; saying “fuck capitalism”; intricate, lived-in worldbuilding; some of the best voice talent out there; etc etc etc. The show takes place in the nation of Windfall--ever since a castle appeared in the sky, the city has been built upward towards it rather than out, and in a sort of vertical Snowpiercer move, the wealthy live further up, with the poorer classes down below. Our protagonists are a series of “grounders” who get tangled up with the business going on upstairs when one of their own is recruited into the military police (the Wolfpac), creating ripples among our cast that force them to decide where they stand. It’s a grand adventure in every sense told incredibly well--the writing on this show is some of the best you’ll find out there in audio drama and it’s executed in a fantastically immersive way that I hope will sweep you away like it did to me. (Not on tumblr, but find them on twitter here.)

3) Palimpsest: Gothic, atmospheric, psychological anthology fiction fans, this one is 100% gonna be for you. The first season of Palimpsest tells the story of Anneliese, who records an audio diary as she moves into a new house after a breakup, still dealing with the death of her sister--the story is very much a slow burn tale of Anneliese being haunted by the memories of the house, but also bringing her own haunting to the house. Horror stories like this need to be threaded so carefully--they have to keep that slow simmer at just the right level to feel like it could bubble over at any moment, and they have to know when to let it loose. Palimpsest knows what its doing, and rest assured you’re in good hands--trust these fantastic creators. As mentioned, its an anthology series, with a different setting and protagonist each season (season two is set in the 19th century, season three during the Blitz in London), with a common thread connecting them all, so choose what appeals to you! (Not on tumblr but find them on Twitter here.)

4) The Magnus Archives: I almost definitely don’t need to sell this here, it’s fantastic and has deserved love and acclaim--but we do love it and want to shout out what we love about it! We started listening around Halloween of last year and shot through two seasons in a very short period of time. If you want that perfect marriage of horror anthology and overarching slow build narrative, this is really the perfect example. The first season eases you in to the general concept with one-off stories of various people’s experiences with the supernatural entities, which they report to The Magnus Institute--these reports are read aloud by the Archivist, who we get to know personally as time goes on and he becomes less and less skeptical and more and more entangled with said supernatural entities. You, the listener, start to slowly hear commonalities, you hear names come up that you’ve heard before and recognize similar experiences from subject to subject, and the show trusts you to piece these together yourself early on, to be an active part of the narrative alongside Jon. It makes it feel like such an interactive, immersive, addictive experience, and you want to keep listening because you don’t want to lose track of the threads you’re connecting. Even when you don’t know the characters who work for the Archives that well yet, the stories are genuinely scary (the cave diving episode in particular is true Nightmare Fuel and an excellent stand-alone horror story), and when you do get to know them, it’s even scarier because you care about them getting caught up in this terrifying world where there are no rules of fairness and true evil runs free. (Also there’s a whole meta-narrative about how it feels to be a millennial stuck in a job you hate that actively seems to be set out to kill you in horrible ways and it. is. RELATABLE.) (Don’t think they’re on tumblr, but find them on Twitter here.)

If you love these shows, please consider leaving them a review on Apple Podcasts or Podchaser so they can get the word out to more potential listeners!

Previous recommendation posts: one, two, three, four, five, six. 

[jeonggukieandcream]

Golden curls and a devilish smile

Request: Aw, something sweet maybe like... a Disney Movie Marathon? Where I call him Princess SINderella, like we said some time ago? Awww it’d be so cute and fluffy oofff ~ @ravenrainy​

A/N: Happy birthday, dear!!!! I hope you have a wonderful day, a prosperous new year, and I wish you all the very best!! You’ve come so far and I’m so very proud of you.  🖤❤️ I love you a lot! 🖤❤️

GIFS indicate the different (and increasingly beautiful) phases of Michael. You’re there through it all; it’s what you both deserve. I wish I could reach through the screens and bring Michael into reality for you, honey, but I can’t. This is the best I can do for you and I think Michael would appreciate this (I hope you do, too!)

Word count: 2, 200.

Something so inconsequential in the grand scheme of things had quickly become a tradition between the two of you. It was something that neither of you had known just how much you would come to enjoy and cherish this occasion between you until it was happening, and from that point was it your go-to comfort activity, your way of shedding all of your daily responsibilities, worries, fears, insecurities and stresses.

Complex people the two of you were, but your ultimate way to relax was one of life’s simplest pleasures:

Having a Disney film marathon.

The way in which this tradition had become what it was between the two of you was just as simple as the good it brought you. 

One night you had been studying while you were visiting Michael at the Murder House. Camped out on his bed had you been deeply saddened and concerned by the way that he had shuffled into the bedroom, the door wide open as a silent invitation towards Michael - it was his bedroom - and any of the nicer, gentler ghosts that wanted to join you while you watched Disney films and studied. 

Michael’s baby blue eyes had been rimmed with redness which only served to enunciate the natural beauty of his eyes, and his golden curls were sticking to the sides of his face, so damp were his cheeks with tears. He was wearing a short sleeved grey shirt with dark blue on the collar and the edges of the sleeves, and checkered blue boxer shorts. 

It was two in the afternoon and he was in his pyjamas, which meant both that Constance, his beloved grandmother, had been neglecting him this day as she always did. and also that it was one of those days in which the voices in his head which whispered nefarious things to him about doing their bidding, about doing his father’s bidding, were louder than usual.

You had cooed softly, dropped your pen immediately and held that hand out. Like the child he was mentally did Michael continue his shuffle over to you, his eyes and face turned downwards. You didn’t even need to ask Michael what was wrong, as immediately did he say, “Grandma won’t talk to me.” A quiet mumble which you barely heard, but you did hear him. You did.

Another soft noise left your lips and you cleared Michael’s bed for him, hurriedly closing textbooks, shutting your laptop after you quickly hit save, and almost throwing everything onto the bedside table in your rush to get Michael into your arms. Again did he take the initiative, waiting for you to shuffle over to the wall, laying down and stretching an arm out. Michael laid down as soon as you were settled, tucking his damp face into the crook of your warm neck. The tip of his nose was cold as he nuzzled it above your jugular, and your nose crinkled as you giggled at his light touch.

Your outstretched arm came around him, tucking Michael into your side, and he hummed softly and sniffled, a hand fisted to dash tears away from his eyes. 

“I don’t know why I keep doing what I’m doing. I need help.” Michael burrowed into your side, so deeply that it was like he was trying to crawl inside you. He pressed himself tightly against you, an arm looping around your neck so that he could pull himself up just enough to hide his face from you, but also so that he could bury his face in your hair; using your body as the ultimate security blanket with which he would shield himself from the world and its cruelties; which never seemed to let up on him.

“I’ll help you, Michael.” A solemn vow which crawled inside Michael’s ears and brought a smile to his full lips as he once again shifted next to you, lifting his head to gaze at the television stationed at the foot of the bed.

“What are you watching?” That soft voice, those eager blue eyes. Tears had dried on his face and left tracks on his cheeks. It wasn’t the first time that Michael had come to you crying and it definitely wasn’t the last, but it was the first time that he had felt like he could ask you about what you were doing, a childlike innocence in his eyes as he looked curiously at the television.

“Cinderella.”

“What’s - “

You grabbed Michael’s hand and tugged him to lay back down beside you. “Shush. Just watch. I think you’ll like this one.”

----------

It came to pass after the first time that whenever either of you were upset, the other one would pick a Disney film and the two of you would watch as many as you could in the time that you had available to you.

When Michael was a student at Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, he did extremely well in keeping up with the expectations and pressures put on him, but oh, he carried so much fear, sadness and anger within him that sometimes he spent his days biting his tongue until it bled; holding himself back from cursing people out or condemning them all to the deepest pits of Hell.

For the most part could he control himself, but as pressures heightened, tensions rose and Michael’s head was left spinning against all that was being demanded from him - really, he had been thrown right into the deep end and given no time to discern up from down before people had started trying to harness his natural powers for their own, it seemed that there was need for another Disney film marathon.

You were, once again and without coincidence, camped out on Michael’s bed studying. His scent, which was saturated into the material of his duvet and pillows, helped to focus you, and being surrounded by his possessions kept you calm and focused as you wrote yet another essay. The door slammed open but you didn’t even slightly jump, so used were you to Michael’s admittedly dramatic ways.

You did look up, however, and Michael’s trembling lower lip cut across Ariel singing about I wanna be where the people are ~, and made it impossible for you to focus on the film. Mirroring the last time this had occurred did you immediately put your pen down, shove all of your materials to the side and open your arms up to Michael, who almost stomped over to you.

“They want me to take the Seven Wonders test in two weeks.”

“They what?! Michael, that could - “

“I know,” There was a notably whiny edge to his voice and you grinned to hear traces of the sweet boy that you had met all that time ago, “But everyone seems to think I can do this. No one gave me a fucking instruction manual and I - “ Michael cut himself off, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Is this Little Mermaid?”

“Yeah.” You tapped his arm. “Wanna cuddle with me? I’m gonna watch Aladdin after this and then maybe - “

You hadn’t even finished your sentence but Michael was already laying down in front of you, his head on his pillow, his body gently pushing you further back towards the wall. You laughed at his enthusiasm, your heart squeezing in your chest so deliciously, and wrapped your arm around his waist, tugging yourself closer to him as he adopted the position of the little spoon. Often times were you the little spoon, but today, emotionally vulnerable as he was, did it seem fitting for Michael to take your place. You didn’t care, really, as you pressed kisses to the side of Michael’s face, your other hand awkwardly coming to brush his golden curls back so that you could reach more of him.

“You’ll do perfectly, Michael. I wish they wouldn’t pressure you, though. You deserve so much more.”

“You are more.” Michael spoke quietly, as if he was afraid to ruin the tranquillity of the moment, and he could hear your thoughts racing, so loud were they. “They don’t know me like you do.” They don’t love me like you do. Everyone always wanted something from Michael. His name, his powers, his father... but not you. No. You saw Michael for who he truly was and you loved him all the more for it.

You were his Queen, he your King, and one day would you rise from the ashes of this world together like a phoenix.

--------

“Oh, my love,” A weary sigh from the suddenly open doorway of Michael’s bedroom in Outpost Three. “You look so tired. What’s the matter?”

You put your phone down, stretching languidly on Michael’s bed, aware all the time of his appreciative gaze as he made his way towards you with slow, measured footsteps which rang out around the room, the sound bouncing off the walls. To him, you were the most beautiful woman on this plane of existence and all the others. “Can’t sleep,” You sighed, “I don’t know why... for the last three days I can’t sleep... can’t study... so I’m just watching Disney clips on my phone to pass the time.”

“Do you want me to help you get some sleep?”

You shook your head and lifted an arm out of the duvet, holding your hand out towards Michael with a mischievous smirk on your face, a devious glint in your eye that looked so right on your face. You were tired enough that you were thinking and speaking without really thinking about what was going to come out of your mouth, and Michael couldn’t deny that he much preferred this lack of a filter. It made you a little bit more interesting - though, granted, you were already the most captivating person he had ever come across in his short time on Earth.

“No. But - do you want to watch Disney with me, Sinderella?”

Michael stopped at the side of your bed and tilted his head quizzically. “I beg your pardon?”

You resisted the millennial urge to say, then beg, finding the meme hilarious in this context but knowing that Michael wouldn’t understand it; and instead tugged him onto the bed with you, taking your place beside him and putting your head on his chest to better hear his heartbeat. It was your favourite song and never again did you ever want to hear a repeated refrain of any of the songs which played on a loop downstairs; you just wanted this song and this refrain for the rest of your life.

“Oh, come on,” You grinned, looking up at him, “Golden curls and those eyes? Baby, you’re a Disney princess. And, do you get it? Sinderella?”

Michael’s baby blues told you that he didn’t.

Your grin only widened as you pulled up a notes app on your phone - you would never know how Michael still had internet, electricity and a Netflix which was curiously stacked with only your favourites and things which you would enjoy once you found the time to watch them - and typed two words:

Cinderella and Sinderella.

Michael took your phone from you, his fingers grazing yours sensually as he did so, and his eyes roamed over the two words. Confusion melted into genuine amusement after a few seconds and his eyes glittered with mirth in the candlelit room, a soft orange glow cast about his face only seeming to amplify the blue of his eyes and turning his hair even more golden.

“Very clever,” He praised, “But tell me - if I’m a Disney princess, what does that make you?”

Endless possibilities filled your mind but you were only interested in the one where the laptop continued to play Disney films on repeat and Michael’s torso remained as your pillow, which rose and fell with his every breath. You just wanted this moment forever; Michael feeling safe and warm, cherished and loved in your embrace as you pressed yourself into his body; wanting to feel as much of him as you could within one touch.

“Hush, love,” Michael cooed, his chest rumbling in your ear as his deep voice filled your senses, “I’m not going anywhere. Sleep.”

“I love you,” You tried to say that you loved him a second time, which immediately followed the first, and you felt a light pressure on your forehead as Michael kissed you with his full lips.

“I love you too. My Raven.” The last two words were full of pride, of joy and of love, and you finally, finally, found sleep in the arms of your Disney princess, of your Sinderella.

Only for you would Michael allow such liberties.

--------

Though you and Michael had met quite by chance, it was an encounter from which serendipity had been born. Your friendship and eventual relationship was an intense roller coaster which consisted only of celestial highs and hellish lows, but you wouldn’t change any of it for all the world.

He was your Antichrist, and you were his Raven, and though you were whole individuals, together were you the unstoppable King and Queen of the New World.

[soulwillower]

I know you really like the 1975, especially for their lyrics, would you be able to suggest some of your favorite lyrics by them? I'm trying to use them as inspiration for writing!

sure baby! sorry it took me so long to respond to this lol

here’s a few lyrics (in no particular order) that help when im writing! i left out all the politically charged lyrics that i like bc they don't so much for writing fics L O L  

it’s not living (if it’s not with you)  (a brief inquiry into online relationships) -

and i know you think you're sly but you need some imagination

all i do is sit and think about you if i knew what you'd do collapse my veins wearing beautiful shoes it's not living if it's not with you

jesus christ 2005 god bless america (notes on a conditional form) - 

i'm in love but i'm feeling low for i am just a footprint in the snow i'm in love with a boy i know but that's a feeling i can never show

fortunately i believe lucky me i'm searching for planes in the sea and that's irony

give yourself a try (a brief inquiry into online relationships) - 

i found a grey hair in one of my zoots like context in a modern debate, i just took it out the only apparatus required for happiness is your pain and fucking going outside and i was 25 and afraid to go outside a millennial that baby-boomers like

the sound (i like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it) - 

it's not about reciprocation it's just all about me a sycophantic, prophetic, socratic junkie wannabe and there's so much skin to see a simple epicurean philosophy

you say i’m “such a cliche” i can’t see the difference in it anyway and we left things to protect my mental health  but you call me when you’re bored and you’re playing with yourself

girls (the 1975) - 

i know you're looking for salvation in the secular age but girl i'm not your savior

sincerity is scary (a brief inquiry into online relationships) - 

you try and mask your pain in the most postmodern way you lack substance when you say something like, "oh, what a shame" it's just a self-referential way that stops you having to be human

and why would you believe you could control how you're perceived when at your best, you're intermediately versed in your own feelings?

loving someone (i like it when you sleep...) -

 just keep holding their necks and keep selling them sex it's better if we keep them perplexed it's better if we make them want the opposite sex 

i'm the greek economy of cashing intellectual cheques and now i'm trying to progress but instead of selling sex i think i should be loving someone

chocolate (the 1975)  - 

oh, you bite your friends like chocolate

pressure (the 1975) -

my broken veins say that if my heart stops beating we'll bleed the same way

well i stay tuned, i listen to the news and try to fall asleep at night

love it if we made it (a brief inquiry into online relationships)

oh, fuck your feelings  truth is only hearsay  we're just left to decay  modernity has failed us

and poison me, daddy i've got the jones right through my bones write it on a piece of stone a beach of drowning three-year olds rest in peace lil peep the poetry is in the streets jesus save us modernity has failed us

paris (i like it when you sleep...) - 

she is a pain in the nose and I'm a pain in women's clothes and you're a walking overdose in a great coat

mr. serotonin man, lend me a gram you call yourself a friend? i got two left feet and i'm starting to cheat on my girlfriend again

sex (the 1975) -

and she said, use your hands and my spare time we've got one thing in common it's this tongue of mine

and i'm not trying to stop you love, if we're gonna do anything we might as well just fuck  she's got a boyfriend anyway

she’s american (i like it when you sleep...)  - 

she calls on the phone like the old days  expecting the world don't fall in love with the moment and think you're in love with the girl

love me (i like it when you sleep...) - 

you've got a beautiful face but got nothing to say (oh!)  you look famous, let's be friends and portray we possess something important do the things we like, meaning we've just come to represent a decline in the standards are what we accept

UGH! (i like it when you sleep...) - 

hey, boy, stop pacing 'round the room using other people's faces as a mirror for you

settle down (the 1975) - 

do you get what i mean now? i'm so fixated on the girl with the soft sound and hair all over the place

but you’re cold and i burn i guess i’ll never learn

heart out (the 1975) -

god, i love the way you love yourself

and once we started having friends round you created a television of your mouth

don’t worry (notes on a conditional form) - 

when you're in love but you don't know what to do with it when blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

talk! (the 1975) - (for the richie vibes lol) 

and i've been thinking lots about your mouth a conversation superseded by the way he talks i'd be an anchor but i'm scared you'd drown it's safer on the ground

totally wrecked and polemic in the way he talks vocal sabbatical, delayed by churning out the same why you talk so loud?

i couldn’t be more in love (a brief inquiry into online relationships) - 

and you said you had enough what about these feelings i've got? i couldn't be more in love i could've been a great line, i could've been a sign but i overstayed my time say what's on your mind

a change of heart (i like it when you sleep...) 

and you were coming across as clever then you lit the wrong end of your cigarette you said I'm full of diseases your eyes were full of regret

and she said, "i've been so worried about you lately you look shit and you smell a bit” you're mad thinking you could ever save me not looking like that

[2edge4u]

I can't sleep so here

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? My gf

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Very shy unless I'm comfortable around them

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? My gf on Tuesday

4. Are you easy to get along with? I would like to think so

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Mallory

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Mmmnm girls typically kind and sweet ones

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? Most def

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? Lmao no

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Depends on who I'm talking to

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? My gf Mallory

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? Good night babe 😙

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? If I can't have you, poetry by dead men, dura remix, bilingue, please me

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? God yes and my gf does it all the damn time

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? Idk it would be nice but sometimes it just kinda feels like were all just going through the motions and stuff like that just eases the pain and hopelessness

15. What good thing happened this summer? I lost a shit ton of weight

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? A million times

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? It would be naive to believe that there isn't the universe is fucking huge

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? Lmfaooo no

19. Do you like bubble baths? Yeah but I gotta shower first. The idea of sitting in body soup makes me queasy.

20. Do you like your neighbors? Fuck no they're horrible people but my rent is cheap 🤷‍♀️

21. What are you bad habits? Over thinking and second guessing are at the top of the list

22. Where would you like to travel? Sooooo many places Florida is the worst get me out

23. Do you have trust issues? Yeah I guess so but I will trust those who treat me right

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Going the fuck to sleep

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My thighs

26. What do you do when you wake up? Say good morning to Mallory then go pee

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? This is a kinda fucked up question but I mean I guess I don't like being this pale but I also like being inside so

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My gf and my mom

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? Yes and I blocked that bitch 🤷‍♀️

30. Do you ever want to get married? Yep

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? Lmao no I'm too butch to have long hair anymore but I'm still pretty soft

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? I tried a threesome once in college and it was not a good time so no thanks. One girl at a time for me.

33. Spell your name with your chin. U8u7fw nailed it

34. Do you play sports? What sports? I used to play basketball but I'm too lazy so

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? Fuck off that's impossible I'm a millennial

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Oh definitely

37. What do you say during awkward silences? Depends on who it is

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? I'm lucky because I'm already dating her 😍 long hair, blue eyes, working her dream job and super passionate about it, the epitome of sweet and kind, very good kisser, great listener, my little spoon, so fucking smart, knows the difference between your and you're, holds me when I need it, fixes my headaches, and she loves me back.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Publix and target

40. What do you want to do after high school? Bitch I graduated in 2005 I've already changed careers once and I'm about to do it again

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Yeah unless they diddle kids or hurt women

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I'm angy or sad

43. Do you smile at strangers? You know that white person passing you in the hallway smile

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Fuck the ocean honestly so many things can bite or sting me

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Making money and seeing my gf

46. What are you paranoid about? Hahahaha so much

47. Have you ever been high? Yeah long time ago

48. Have you ever been drunk? Mhm

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Not really

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? I literally only wear black and grey everything

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Oh definitely

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Smaller boobs

53. Favourite makeup brand? Lmao I haven't worn makeup since college

54. Favourite store? Bitch I already answered this

55. Favourite blog? Hmmmm I can't choose y'all bitches are funny

56. Favourite colour? Grey

57. Favourite food? Hmmm salad and mashed potatoes. I also love Mexican food.

58. Last thing you ate? Caprese salad

59. First thing you ate this morning? Pussy, next question

60. Ever won a competition? For what? Lmao a lot of music competitions and also water skiing

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? Lmao no I'm too scared to get in trouble

62. Been arrested? For what? I've never even been pulled over so no

63. Ever been in love? Yep

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? It was behind the big tire on the playground so no one would see. Lasted .5 seconds and we never talked again.

65. Are you hungry right now? Nah

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? Yeah

67. Facebook or Twitter? Neither

68. Twitter or Tumblr? Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now? Always

70. Names of your bestfriends? Mallory, Chris and Kjersten

71. Craving something? What? Reeses with the pieces inside that shit slaps

72. What colour are your towels? Grey

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? One for my head and one for in between my legs

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Nope

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? None

75. Favourite animal? Puppies and kitties

76. What colour is your underwear? Grey and blue

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour? Chocolate covered cherry

79. What colour shirt are you wearing? I'm not wearing a shirt

80. What colour pants? No pants either just boxers and a sports bra

81. Favourite tv show? Fuck you I can't choose

82. Favourite movie? Texas chainsaw

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Why would you even ask me this the original obviously

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean girls

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? Gretchen wieners

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? Dory

87. First person you talked to today? Mallory

88. Last person you talked to today? Mallory

89. Name a person you hate? My boss and the majority of my colleagues

90. Name a person you love? My gf

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Nah I don't really like punching ppl

92. In a fight with someone? No

93. How many sweatpants do you have? I'm a lesbian so a lot

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? Idk like 10ish?

95. Last movie you watched? Rocky horror

96. Favourite actress? So many

97. Favourite actor? Why tf do some people still separate this by gender

98. Do you tan a lot? Lmao no

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yeah I live in the south

99. Have any pets? Yep a dog and 2 cats

100. How are you feeling? Slept literally all day so I can't sleep but my headache is finally gone 🙌

101. Do you type fast? Yeah

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Mhm

103. Can you spell well? I would like to think so

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? My grandparents

[breeeliss]

If you're Still taking alluralance ideas, I'd love a laundry Room au. Like One of those ones where A thought they were alone So they Were Dancing around while they Fold and makeout with fresh out of the dryer Clothes and then they hear laughter, And it Turns out that B was Just folding in the Shadows and now it's Awkward

allurance

ao3 + masterpost 

//

the laundry room in lance’s apartment was, to put it quite frankly, fucking horrific. he was pretty positive is used to be a torture chamber in the past, but maybe that was the marathoned hours of american horror story talking. 

either way, it wasn’t uncommon for lance to put off his laundry for a couple of days because he was terrified of going down into the basement by himself. people could make fun of him all they wanted, the place looked like something out of a saw movie. 

the fluorescent lights always flickered, the floors were disgusting, the boiler made the most horrendous noises, and the gaping, dark storage room pressed to the back of the room was currently without a door and left plenty of room for lance to imagine what kind of monster or murderer was hiding in the shadows. 

he really needed to cool it on the true crime podcasts. 

but there was no excuse today. lance was officially out of underwear so he needed to stay down there and get at least one load done. so lance plopped his speakers on top of his laundry basket, plugged in his phone, and played the only song he knew that could fill him with a sufficient enough amount of courage to plunge into the depths of the basement. 

“be a man” from the mulan soundtrack. 

once the drum line got started and li shang’s voice echoed through the room, lance immediately got pumped. yes, he was gonna fucking get down to business. this laundry was gonna get done and he was gonna make mulan proud. it’s not like he had anything else to do on a saturday night. might as well twerk it out to disney songs while his boxers dried. 

he was sorting through his clothes as he sung rather loudly along to the lyrics. he threw a glare over to that hellishly dark storage room while he worked as if that was going to stick it to whatever was hiding in there. 

“not today, satan,” lance called out. “i’m about to hit this chorus and your demonic ass is about to be shook.” 

lance was measuring out the detergent the minute the chorus dropped, and he really went in and stretched out those sixth grade glee club muscles. he had this song memorized for years – as every respectable millennial disney baby should – and he couldn’t help but start dancing around the room as he poured in his soap, danced over to his basket, and started throwing clothes in. 

“you’re a spineless, pale, pathetic, lot,” lance sang, really getting into character. “and you haaaaaven’t got a cluuuuuue – woah!” 

lance turned around to grab from the basket, and for a moment he thought it was a ghost standing in the doorway of the laundry room. but he realized it was just a girl – one he recognized, maybe from four doors down, he’s mad he can’t put a name to that head of dyed grey hair. she was holding her own laundry basket under her arm as she laughed at the performance he was unintentionally putting on for her. lance coughed into his arm and tried to play it off like he wasn’t totally making a damn fool of himself, but then the next verse of the song came on and the girl in front of him thoroughly surprised him. 

“i’m never gonna catch my breath,” she smirked. 

lance’s eyes widened. “say goodbye to those who knew me.” 

she dropped her basket on the laundry machine next to him. “boy was i a fool in school for cutting gym.” 

“this guy’s got ‘em scared to death!” 

“hope he doesn’t see right through me!” 

“boy i really wish that i knew how to swiiiiiiiim!” 

“BE A MAN!!!” 

they both roared into the chorus with so much overdramatic vigor that lance was sure people on the first floor could hear them. but who cares, this was a classic. and this super cute girl was seriously giving him a run for his money with how well she knew these lyrics. god, she even held that long note at the end of the chorus like a total champ. they let the song keep going on without them as they collapsed into laughter against the dryers. 

“oh god, i haven’t heard that song in a long while,” the girl laughed. 

“seriously?” lance gasped. “i watched mulan like…last week.” 

“it’s one of my favorite disney movies. well, that and aladdin. you can’t forget aladdin.” 

lance pounded on his chest. “princesses of color. represent.” 

the girl snorted into her hand and started to throw some of her sweaters into the washing machine. “sorry to interrupt you, but i had to jump in.” 

“oh please, you did me a favor. that harmonizing we had going on was…” lance pressed his fingers to his lips and made a loud chef’s kiss to the air, “perfecto.”

“well, singing is always better when you have company,” she said. “besides, i was sort of hoping there was someone else down here. this laundry room always creeps me out.”

“doesn’t it? i feel like someone is gonna pop out the shadows and kill me.” 

“i had a bloody nightmare about this basement the first time i came down here! swear on my life!” 

“well, if you ever need back up and a bomb ass disney playlist when you’re doing laundry, i’m your dude. that stuff helps.” 

allura grinned and shook her head at him as if she was surprised to see him suddenly standing in front of her. “i didn’t catch your name…” 

“lance,” he said, holding out his hand. “i feel like i’ve seen you before. i’m in 507 if that helps.” 

“allura,” she supplied. “and yes, i’ve definitely seen you going out for jogs early in the morning. i’m in 501.”

lance winked. “oh, well, hello neighbor. it was a pleasure dorking out to disney soundtracks with you.” 

allura bowed dramatically. “likewise. have you got anymore queued up?” 

“let’s see. i’ve got ‘be our guest,’ ‘friend like me,’ ‘let it go,’ and ‘i just can’t wait to be king.’ pick your poison.” 

“‘friend like me’ obviously,” allura scoffed. 

“right, right, aladdin junkie. why didn’t i realize sooner?” 

“jasmine was my spirit animal. i dressed up as her for halloween three years in a row back when my hair was still black. i was the splitting image of her.” 

“wait that’s so adorable. i’m so basic, i think i reused the same pirate costume for like five years.” 

“you were a pirate for five years?” 

“well, for the first year. next year i was a ghost pirate. then a zombie pirate. demon pirate. and a cuban pirate.” 

allura chuckled. “what on earth is a cuban pirate?” 

“a pirate with a cuban flag wrapped around his head that says truco o trato to all the gringos that answer the door.” 

he left her laughing so hard that she stumbled back a couple of steps and had to catch herself against the machine behind her. “are you like this all the time?” 

“please. this isn’t even me trying. you should wait until i really get the jokes going. you won’t survive.” 

allura shrugged. “i mean, i have to stay here until my clothes are done washing. so i’ve got nothing but time.” 

lance smiled. “alright. but remember. you asked.” 

“listen, if it keeps me occupied on a saturday night, i promise i won’t mind.” 

“well, if you eventually get tired of my jokes, i have aladdin on dvd back at my place. i could pop some popcorn and throw it on for us. i was getting kind of bored sitting in my apartment all day and laundry can only get so exciting.” 

allura bit her lip, distracting herself with loading the rest of her clothes. “i’d like that. i’ll bring blankets and some sweets i brought back from work.” 

“yes! sleepover! haven’t had one of those in a while.” 

“hm?” allura smirked, raising a brow. “want me to sleepover, do you? you ought to ask me to dinner first.” 

lance sputtered. “w-wha? no! no no. no, that’s not what i meant, no. totally platonic, buds being buds, watching a movie, five feet apart ‘cause we’re not gay.” 

“that’s a shame,” allura shrugged. “if you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do was ask.” 

lance leaned into the start button on the washer at the same time she did and tried to play off the fervent jolt of excitement that lit up the length of his spine. “that was really smooth, allura.” 

she giggled. “why thank you.” 

“do you like takeout?” he offered. “i was thinking thai food.” 

“i’ll pay if you show me pictures of all of those pirate halloween costumes. i feel like i’m only going to believe this cuban pirate story if i see it for myself.” 

[drtanner]

I'm going to be 36 years old in *checks calendar* twelve days, and between the fucked economy and my long-term untreated mental illness, I have done nothing since the age of about 11 or 12 but strive and struggle to obtain the lifestyle that I was promised back then, the nice comfortable one with all the hallmarks of successful adulthood that I was made to believe I'd be owed if I "worked hard" and "got a good job" and did everything right. A lot of kids like me were sold the same story, but a hell of a lot of us stumbled out of school or college or uni and found that those things weren't there for us to achieve.

There were no good jobs, so we had to take whatever we could get at the time and keep looking while we worked, except that everybody else was doing the same thing at the same time - to this day, I still remember when the fucking Morrisons opened up in my hometown and received somewhere upwards of 50,000 applications for the 150 job openings they posted. We were told that for any job we tried to apply for, we could expect to be competing with 90 other people, at least, and that it was down to luck more than anything else as to whether anyone would see our applications or not. I myself sent out something like 300 applications a month back then and I knew many others who were doing similarly. It didn't get any of us anywhere.

How are you supposed to buy a home if you can't get a job? How are you supposed to get married or have kids if you can't buy a home? It arrested our development; so many of us left education and then just had to stop progressing as human beings because we were too busy trying to stay alive. Are you disabled? Neurodivergent? Too bad, you don't have time to deal with that. You need a job now. Sort that out and then you can worry about your health, which will be so much worse for having been neglected for years while you work yourself half to death by the time you actually get one of those fabled "good jobs", you'll crash and burn and lose it all within a year. There goes your successful adulthood! Better luck next time.

In a way, I feel almost lucky to be too disabled to work now, because even though my benefits are a pittance and I live under the constant threat of having my life pulled out from under me by some box-ticker who has never met me sitting in a DWP office miles away, at least I only have to grapple with them for six months out of every two years instead of every fucking day of my life like it was back when I was still trying to work. I don't get to be an adult any more than anyone who's trapped in the system that I seem to have escaped, but at least I can rest now. At least I can stop pretending that successful adulthood is in any way achievable and nobody will say anything about it.

In a way, millennial adulthood resembles childhood so much because of a lack of freedom. You don't get to decide much for yourself when you're a child. Your parents decide everything for you, you don't get any really big freedoms and you only get to have what your parents can give you, so your toys and TV shows and other little treats are the full extent of your ability to enjoy life. The way we live now, we still don't have any freedoms, except now it's due to having no time or money for ourselves. We're no better off than we were as kids; what else are we supposed to do but continue to enjoy our toys and TV shows and whatever small treats we can afford to give ourselves?

Also I'm going grey as well and I'm doing my best to make peace with it. It's assuredly due to stress, but there's nothing I can do to change that. Once your hair is out of toner, it's out of toner! It's a done deal! It doesn't make sense to get upset about it. It is what it is. v( ._.)v

[bakugou-tm]

Omg it’s open!! I absolutely looove your writing! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou’s female crush got caught under a Villain’s quirk that switches her perspective of people she loves into villains and the only way to get out of it was a kiss? Bakugou ends up having to fight her and kisses her in the end maybe with a fluffy confession? Or she doesn’t remember?! Whatever you’d like!! ❤️❤️

Mmmmm what a spicy request, actually sounds pretty interesting. I hope this is what you were looking for! Sorry if it got a little crappy at the end, it’s a bit long :’)

“Just be careful until we get there okay?” A gruff voice shouted into the small intercom piece in your ear, the voice laced with worry even if it sounded angry.

Letting out a sigh you rolled your eyes as you walked down the long allyway, using your fire quirk to light the dark street, “Yeah yeah, I’ll be fine sparky. Take your time.”

A soft giggle escaped your lips when you heard a growl from the other side and a string of curses along with a mini lecture on how you aren’t aloud to call him sparky before thankfully you hung up, just leaving you and a small black cat sitting on top of a dumpster.

“He really doesn’t think I can handle myself,” You spoke to the cat in a dull voice, sauntering over to the small creature while stroking it’s head, “I was top of my class at UA, just because I wasn’t in Class A doesn’t mean anything.”

Looking down to the fluffy creature you scoffed when it purred in response to your rant, ruffling it’s head before the sound of a thud came behind you.

Without second thought you spun around, flames igniting in one hand while the other was clenched, your (e/c) orbs scanning the alleyway, “Come out now, or I will take you with force.”

“Is this ‘he’ a boyfriend, perhaps?”

Blinking in confusion at the question you couldn’t help but look around for where the silky voice had come from, “W..What? What are you talking about, who are you?”

A soft, almost taunting chuckle was heard before you followed by a shadow slowly making it’s way until the figure was revealed, “You seem flustered dear.”

Freezing in your position you took in the woman’s look; from her sickly purple uniform, dull grey skin, and piercing emerald eyes, her entire presence sent chills down your spine. The sinister smirk on her face not helping much.

“Stay right where you are.” You warned, seeming to come back to reality as she neared you, her slowly swaying hips continuing their taunting movements.

The woman simply laughed at your command, ignoring the sparking flames in your palm, “What a woman can’t wonder about a pretty girl’s love life like you?”

“Stop messing around, I don’t have time for this!” You growled, shooting your palm forward sending a stream a flames towards the lady but as they neared her form she seemed to fizz away.

Cursing to yourself you looked around until you saw her form behind you, whatever her quirk was there was more than one aspect to it.

“No need to be feisty girl, I just want to talk,” The woman purred, running her fingers through your (h/c) locks causing you to whip around before she fizzed away again, an annoyed growl escaping your lips, “A lonely woman like me craves such drama amongst you millennials, can you blame me?”

Biting your lip you clenched your fists, the thought of Bakugou re-entering your mind. The ash blond had been your crush ever since you came to the energy, his exploding passion for his job and confidence in the field grabbed your attention from the moment you left. But sadly, the boy never responded to your flirtatious attempts the way you wanted him to. He basically did everything but say he didn’t like you in return, but still your heart seeked the boy, haunting your thoughts every second of the day and night.

“There’s no drama for you to hear anyway,” You said in a dull tone, your eyes shifting to the floor as you let out a small sigh, “He’s not the least bit interested in me in return.”

The sound of her dark chuckling sent the familiar chills down your spine again, your eyes flicking up to her nearing body, “Oh that’s perfect my dear.”

“P..Perfect? What do you.. How could you-” But suddenly your words were cut off by the sound of a familiar angry tone shouting your name.

“Katsuki?”

“Oooo is that him?” The woman purred, a smirk appearing on her features as you whipped your head to the sound of his voice, “I’ll see you on the other side my dear.”

Tilting your head you whipped around to her, ready to question her statement until a green sort of energy began to swarm your head, your vision growing darker by the second.

“W..What did you… W..Wai…” Your words were cut off when you lost all control of your body, your form crashing with the cement as you weakly looked up to the woman. Her smirk was still plastered on her lips while she waved her fingers to you, then all went black.

————-

“(S/o)?” Bakugou yelled, Kirishima and Kaminari accompanied behind him as they walked around the dark streets of Musutafu.

Mina, Todoroki, and Sero were sent off in the other direction to look for you and the villain while the three boys made their way on this side of the city.

The ash blond let out a growl, his fists clenched as the two boys walked behind him cautiously, “I told that dip shit to be careful, I swear when I find her I’ll…”

Just as he was ready to finish his threat, the three froze when they saw your body shriveled up in the middle of an alleyway by yourself, your body seeming to be trembling from something.

“(S/O)!” Bakugou shouted, making a mad dash for your form while the two followed behind.

While the ash blond lifted you up on your back to see your unconcious face his blond friend snorted down to the scene, “When you find her you’ll what now? Lift her up bridal style?”

Bakugou whipped his head around to the sparking hero, his crimson eyes narrowed in an intense glare while Kirishima nudged his friend to shut up.

Looking back down to you the ash blond felt around your face, his eyes narrowed while he looked you up and down, “She’s alive.. but she’s so cold, (s/o) is always a hot box I don’t understand-”

Suddenly the boy stopped when your eyes shot open, body growing tense in his arms, all seemed normal except for the fact that your usual (e/c) orbs were an emerald green, almost glowing in a sickly manor.

“(S..S/o), are you alright?” Kirishima asked softly, the two heroes bending down next to Bakugou to look at your form before your eyes narrowed darkly.

Without a second to breath your palm lit up with intense flames, firing it at the three boys while jumping out of Bakugou’s arms, both hands raised defensively. While the three heroes were able to dodge most of your flames, the force was still enough to knock all three back.

“What the fuck.. (s/o) what’s wrong with you?!” The ash blond shouted, dusting off ash from his arms while narrowing his eyes to your defensive form.

It wasn’t until a dark chuckle was heard from behind you that the three boys noticed the sickly looking woman behind you on top of a dumpster, “That’s right (s/o), they are the villains. They hurt your friends, your family, even the one you loved!”

Noticing the way your teeth grit angrily the pro-heroes slowly began to realize what was happening, all of the puzzle pieces coming together to an ugly picture.

“That’s why her eyes are glowing green! She’s being like.. haunted!” Kaminari said with wide golden eyes, the woman laughing at his rather late observation.

“Correct my boy, and now you’re going to feel her wrath!” 

With wide eyes the three looked back to your body but it wasn’t there, instead you had launched yourself into the air with both fists aimed to the three followed by a large gust of flames. Your friends barely dodged it in time, some of their uniforms being singed from the heavy blow.

“(S/o) you’re being brainwashed! It’s us, your friends!” Kaminari shouted, dodging most of your close range attacks until you jumped up and kicked off his head causing him to stumble forward before you spun around in mid air and sent a stream of flames onto his back.

Both Kirishima and Bakugou cringed at the harsh attack, watching their naive friend fall to the ground in pain as you landed, your head whipping over to them with a dangerous look in your eyes.

“Oi oi (s/o) snap out of it!” Bakugou shouted as the two clenched their fists while you ran to them, the ash blond’s words seeming to fly past your head as you sent to punches his way, flames going along with each strike knocking the boy back against the cement.

Glaring over to Kirishima you lunged out towards him, throwing a punch to his face before he caught it with his hardened palm, “(S/o) please, I don’t want to hurt you!”

Ignoring the red haired boy you continued your rapid punches, each one being caught in his hand causing the flames to die down, letting out an annoyed growl you swung your kneed to his gut, hitting him hard enough for him to stumble back in pain. Taking advantage of the blow you lifted your leg up to send a stream of flames to finish him off before the boy grabbed your leg and spun you around.

Wobbling off balance you quickly stood back firm in your place before facing back towards him, palm lit and ready to fire until he head butted you with enough force to fly backwards, your body rolling against the cement as you groaned in pain.

“Don’t hurt her shitty hair!” Bakugou growled, slowly getting up from the dented wall as Kirishima frowned, quickly jogging over to your body.

The red haired boy kneeled down next to you, moving your body off it’s side to make sure you were okay before a stream of flames was fired at his chest sending the boy flying across the alley and into the opened dumpster.

With a stubborned growl you shakily stood up, Kirishima’s attack still taking a toll on your body while you face Bakugou, teeth grit angrily.

Bakugou looked your furious and defensive form up and down with wide eyes, before making his way up to your glowing emerald orbs. 

This wasn’t you, this wasn’t (l/n) (f/n). The real you wouldn’t be doing this right now, and the real you needed to come back before it was too late, because just like any other villain the ash blond would be forced to take you down with or without force.

“C’mon snap the fuck out of it (s/o)!” Bakugou shouted, growing more annoyed as you walked closer to him with flaming hands while the woman laugh sinisterly to the two of you, “You’re stronger than this!”

Cracking your knuckles you narrowed your eyes to the boy while sending a stream of flames towards his face which he easily dodged.

“Look (s/o) I don’t wanna fight with you but if you don’t cut this bullshit I’m gonna have to.” The ash blond warned, his fists beginning to crackle before he noticed you get in a fighting stance, a look of disappointment on his expression.

Bakugou was pretty sure he has had nightmares of this very moment, his one true crush trying to murder him out of pure wrath and anger. Even though he knew she was being brainwashed, the disgusted way she looked down to him made the boy feel sick to the stomach. What if they couldn’t get you back? What if you were stuck loathing his existence forever? He never even got the chance to say…

“I hate you!” 

The ash blond was so lost in thought he hadn’t even noticed your form flying down towards him, your fist smashing into the ground sending a rush of flames toward him, effectively knocking him back into the wall.

Letting out a growl you ran to the wall ready to smash his face in accompanied by your flaming hand until he dodged your his just barely and kicked his leg out from under you sending you falling to the ground with a thud.

Groaning you rubbed your head and looked up to him, his face mixed with anger and concern. Taking advantage of us unstable state you kicked your leg up, sending the powerful rush of fire up against his face, giving you time to roll away and pop back up to fight.

Now Bakugou was annoyed, he couldn’t hold back anymore. If there was any chance left to save you from being stuck like this forever he needed to get you down and quick.

“Why you trying to run? Afraid I’ll kick your ass?” Bakugou sneered, his face going from anger to satisfaction when he saw your eye begin to twitch.

You may be brainwashed, but that didn’t take away your personality. Any hearing of a challenge or someone calling you out made your skin crawl, he knew setting you off like this would make your rationality go to rage.

“I’m not afraid of anything!” You screamed, running to him with a punch coiled back until he blasted up and over you causing you to come to a screeching shot. Quickly you whipped your head back to see where he had gone before a sharp explosion came against your back causing you to yelp in pain while falling to the ground.

The ash blond cringed slightly at your sounds of pain, especially since he was the one causing them, but he was holding back his full blasting power and knew he had to at least get you down.

Whenever you were focused or passionate about a fight your attacks would be close range and skillfully made, but when you were in a state of anger like now your attacks became more powerful yet sloppy and not full thought through.

Groaning in pain you weakly got up before new flames ignited in your hands, the same glare still plastered on your face, “Stop toying with me!”

Bakugou narrowed his crimson eyes back to you, watching how you blasted flames below you to launch yourself into the air like he had, since he knew the move you were attempting he grabbed your wrist and yanked you down so not to attack from behind. The pro-hero expected this to be the final blow to keep you down until your legs snaked around his under arms and you wrenched your body backwards with as much strength as you could sending the ash blond flying against the pavement.

With shocked eyes Bakugou sat up, shocked that you had pulled such a skilled move before he noticed your form flying down to him with a battle cry. The ash blond just barely rolled out of the way in time to avoid your flaming fist, the road where he once laid now dented from your pure wrath.

“Get back here you-” You began before the ash blond igniting an explosion at your legs, sending you falling on your back while you grunted in shock.

Bakugou quickly pounced on top of you, holding down your struggling form while dodging any flames that escaped your mouth or open palms.

“L..Let me go!” You cried, eyes glowing a sickly green while you shouted in anger, “You’ll pay for hurting Katsuki!”

Suddenly the ash blond froze, while his grip was still firm on you his expression blanked in confusion. Hurting Katsuki? What was she talking about?

Growling angrily you shoved against his firm hold, furious that he was seeming to effortlessly hold you down while he was deep in thought. 

Blinking in surprise Bakugou looked over to the evil woman that was watching with a smirk, taking notice of the same glowing green eyes that you had. She was making you think that good guys were bad and bad guys were good, but if he could convince you he was a good guy...

“I swear if you make fun of me after this I’ll murder you..” Bakugou hissed under his breath before his face neared yours, your green eyes widening as you shook your head attempting to hide your face from his.

“Stop! Get away you creep, stop!” You screamed before his rough lips met yours.

At first he was met with scrunched up lips, assumingely because you were disgusted at first, but as your soft lips eventually melted into his and your arms stopped straining against your own the ash blond knew something had to of worked.

“(S/o) I like you... I like you a lot.” Bakugou admitted with closed eyes once he pulled away from you, his hands clenching around your own desperately while he grit his teeth. This wasn’t the way he had imagined he would confess to you, but he had to at least let you know before he lost you.

The boy felt a bitter tug in his heart, the sad truth that you were stuck like this forever when you gave no response to his confession seemed to be happening until your frail fingers wrapped around his own. 

Bakugou’s crimson eyes widened as he looked down to you to see your normal (e/c) orbs back to normal, looking up to the pro-hero breathlessly.

“K..Katsuki...” You whispered softly while looking into his eyes shakily. You weren’t sure how you got here, why Bakugou was hovering over you, or what was going on; the only thing you focused on was that Bakugou Katsuki had just kissed you and admitted he loved you. Was this a dream?

“No you idiot!” A voice shrieked, shifting both of your dazed expressions over to the growling woman who’s palms were glowing a bright green, “You weren’t supposed to actually love her! My plan was working so well!”

Blinking for a second, the memories of this wicked woman suddenly began to flow back to you, your eyes narrowing as you sat up from underneath Bakugou.

“Y..You witch!” You cried, palm beginning to flame up before you crumpled back to the ground while holding your head, for some reason your head was ringing.

The woman only cackled at your weak form with a smirk on her face, watching as the ash blond quickly held onto your swaying body while glaring up to her, “You wouldn’t beat me in the state your in sweetheart, the poison is still in your blood!”

Bakugou growled at the open threat to you, his hands beginning to spark as he set you against the ground softly before standing over your body, “I’ll take your ugly ass down my fucking self you crazy bitch.”

“Oooo you’re even feistier than the girl, I guess you’ll be fun to play with.” The villain purred as the new idea began to swirl around her head, her hands glowing a dark green.

With wide eyes you struggled to push yourself off the ground, begging Bakugou to hold back before she brainwashed him as well, but before anything could happen a yellow bolt of electricity shocked the woman from behind, her body beginning to twitch before she crumpled to the ground unconscious.

Kaminari stood behind the woman, a grin on his face while Kirishima stood next to him with hardened arms just to be safe, never had you been so happy to see the three boys.

“(S/o) are you feeling better?” Kirishima asked with concerned eyes while he knelt down to Bakugou who was already at your side again, allowing you to lean your weight onto his side.

Groaning softly you nodded your head while running your fingers through your hair, “Y..Yeah I’m fine. That lady just came out of no where and she got me distracted and...”

“What was she distracting you about?” Kaminari questioned with a grin on his face, all four obviously knowing what sparked this event after revealing the woman’s quirk causing Bakugou and Kirishima to glare at the oblivious boy.

Kirishima quickly grabbed Kaminari by the arm while lifting up the unconcious villain over his shoulder, “Why don’t you too have some alone time and we’ll meet you at the agency, we’ll let Todoroki know we got the villain.”

Both of you nodded slowly to the red headed boy, grateful he understood how tricky the situation was before the two boys disappeared around the corner.

It was silent for a few minutes, between not knowing what to be said and just enjoying the feel of resting against Bakugou, none of you wanted to spark the first word.

“Look (s/o), about what I said..”

“Do you really like me?” You quickly blurted out, your sparkling orbs looking up to his with fear and doubt in them. Of course he had just kissed you, but for all you knew it could’ve been just to break whatever trance you were in before.

Bakugou blinked in surprise, his mouth left agape while he looked around to think of a response, he could just admit it to you and finally seek your true feelings for him, but then on the other hand the thought of you turning him down was a worse alternative.

Seeing the boy ponder over the question for what seemed like forever you let out a sigh, your eyes going to your fingers as you fidgeted with them, “B..Because I like you, I liked you from the very first day we met.”

Now this caught the boy by surprise, his crimson eyes widening down to your heavily blushing form as you avoided eye contact. This was definitely going down as the worst moment of your life.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to throw it out all at once, if you just help me up I can lea-” 

Suddenly your words were interrupted with the harsh feeling of his lips smacking against yours. The first time you kissed it was soft and desperate, but this time it was intense and passionate. Like every little word and emotion the ash blond wanted to show you he put into one kiss.

Without hesitation you kissed Bakugou back, your arms holding onto the metal pads atop his shoulders while you pressed your lips against his with every ounce of love you’ve held back from him these past months.

It felt good to know you liked each other, it felt even better to be pressed up against one another in a passionate kiss. Even when you both broke away you still felt closer to each other than you had ever been. 

Looking up into those beautiful crimson eyes that were already staring down at you, you smiled when he kissed at your lips one last time before whispering, “Me too.”

With a satisfied sigh you held onto him while he lifted your limp form off the ground, grateful he was willing to carry you in your dizzy state.

“Let’s get your ass back to the agency now, you better believe I have a long fucking lecture for you.” Bakugou hissed, but even in his angry tone his eyes were soft upon looking down to you as you smiled up to him.

Kissing at the soft flesh of his cheek you smiled at the warm tint spreading around his face before finally resting your head against his chest, “Thank you Katsuki.”

The soft hum rumbling from his chest was enough to make you feel warm inside, feeling the safest you had ever been in his warm embrace. And as he carried you to the others you knew without a doubt..

This was definitely going down as the best moment of your life.

[akko-chan]

You learn a couple things when you get to my age Like friends don't lie and it all tastes the same in the dark When your vinyl and your coffee collection is a sign of the times You're getting spiritually enlightened at 29

So just give yourself a try Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give?

I found a grey hair in one of my suits Like context in a modern debate I just took it out The only apparatus required for happiness Is your pain and fucking going outside And getting STD's at 27 really isn't the vibe Jane took her own life at 16 She was a kid who had the box tattooed on her arm And I was 25 and afraid to go outside A millennial that baby-boomers like

Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give?

And what would you say to your younger self? Growing a beard's quite hard And whiskey never starts to taste nice And you'll make a lot of money, and it's funny 'Cause you'll move somewhere sunny and get addicted to drugs And spend obscene amounts on fucking seeds and beans online

So just give yourself a try Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give yourself a try? Won't you give?

[home-working]

Let There Be Sunlight

Holy shit it’s 2019! What did you get up to in 2018? What were your achievements, your successes? (Tumblr, I see that you have quasi-upgraded your blogging platform so I can have proper post titles AND photo layouts, congrats! Except they don’t really work!!)

One thing I did was upgrade my workspace, cause holy fuck it was starting to get depressing having my desk in a dark corner.

Welcome to Homeworking HQ (Ditmas Park) 2.0! Now I get to push pixels beside my big, bright, plant-adorned window, which allows me to bathe in all the reflected sunlight I can take and more easily spy on the people across the street at all hours of the day. In addition to relocating my desk, I got rid of another shitty table I didn’t like/need and replaced it with something useful: colour-coordinated S-T-O-R-A-G-E!

Behold!

Since apparently I don’t know how to purchase anything that isn’t red, yellow or blue, I found this not-Bisley™ wheeled filing cabinet online and then filled it with shit to organize other-shit-that-was-cluttering-up-my-apartment. There is nothing quite as satisfying as hidden things unnecessarily matching other things that are also hidden!

The only other surface I now have to eat off/do anything at is this IKEA “kitchen island” which I mostly end up standing at if I have a guest over like some awkward personal bartender because I currently only have one tall stool:

December: back on the holiday caramel-making bullshit.

Anyways, so far, it’s been a success sitting 10 feet closer to a natural light source, measurable by the fact that I really actually enjoy sitting at my desk again.

Wow, I’m sitting beside a window! Ok!

But how else does one define success? Purchasing objects to improve your quality of life is one thing, but measuring success in your career and personal life is trickier.

Warning: the rest of this post is basically me practicing long winded/unfunny/unresearched existential thought diarrhea so feel free to maybe skip it!

When I was younger and still unsure of what direction my life would take post-art school, I knew that at least no matter what I ended up doing, I wanted to be successful at it, and loosely defined that “success” as being able to make a living from it (growing up in a financially unstable household, self-sustained monetary security was of high importance). I was very lucky that I fell into a creative line of work that I not only found enjoyable and challenging, but was able to turn into a relatively fruitful career.

But the thing with a low threshold of success is that as soon as you achieve it, you need to begin rescaling your definition of it to keep moving forward: you need to embrace AMBITION.

O, ambition! What highs! I remember in my late 20s working a full-time advertising job then coming home and joyfully working a number of assorted freelance jobs. I loved it! (My then-boyfriend hated it!) I was productive! I was building a portfolio! The future! and! amount! of! work! was! limitless!

But now I’m TIRED. Thinking about work makes me TIRED. Just seeing my phone display “January” made me TIRED. Last year when I had a temporary full-time gig, with a 1.5-hour daily commute, I got home and ate take-out sushi with 13 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy and ignored my freelance work and fell the fuck ASLEEP.

And still, despite a lack of energy (vitamin B and heme iron be damned), I feel guilty every minute of the day before 10pm that I’m not working on something. Even if all my client jobs are complete, I still feel like I should be taking advantage of that rare “free time” and work on a personal project (this post itself is a direct result of the joy/guilt from staying in on New Year’s Eve).

There’s the concept of a healthy work/life balance, but who has time for that? No minute can ever be wasted, because ambition is always perched on your shoulder whispering: you need to produce MORE THINGS; you need to work HERE, or teach THERE; you need to be on THIS WEBSITE, or THIS LIST, or in THIS GALLERY, or work with THIS STUDIO, and have THIS TITLE, or give THIS TALK… or you’re not really achieving success. Even if to outside eyes it might look like you’re doing pretty damn good, when you measure yourself next to your industry peers, you’re ultimately a smidgen above average, at best.

What’s sadly comforting is that achievement insecurity pervades almost everyone. A friend that I consider to be extremely successful (owning companies, property) once confided that their own family doesn’t see their achievements to be very worthwhile. Another friend, who puts so much work into running their own small business, is realizing the energy they’re pouring in is not resulting in a sustainable existence. Yet another friend, who seemed to have achieved the whole perfect job/house/marriage/dog combo, felt inadequate for having trouble conceiving.

So what if you’re not reaching the level of success you think you should have by now? Does yearning for more keep you moving forward, or just make you feel shitty? When do you abandon ambition? As my friend Amil Niazi recently commented on the Sheryl Sandberg concept of “leaning in”, when can we just give up and “lean out”?

What I’m realising is that what possibly makes the idea of abandoning success so difficult is that I, a single woman, don’t know what I’d replace it with. As 20-somethings unburdened with families to raise or households to maintain as earlier generations were, we were instead burdened by the freedom and expectation to become who we wanted as early as we could. And if we millennial women are not trying to live our most ambitiously fulfilling lives [on social media], do we even have an identity?!

If a woman chooses to forego ambition, there seems to be only one acceptable reason for that: motherhood. (She can have it all as well, but god forbid she have neither!) But I’m not sure I want that either, and so giving up success without starting a family means I will have to decide if I not only want to let myself but also society-at-large down.

Your 30s (ironically the decade that I’ve decided is about learning to not give a shit) seems to be the ultimate reality check; either you’ve already “made it”, or you need to embrace that you haven’t, probably aren’t going to, and are too damn tired to keep trying. Do we just need to give ourselves a break at this point? Re-evaluate our definition of success yet again, instead of abandoning it altogether? Maybe the better question is WHY I feel the need to measure my own success in the first place, when everyone’s definition is different anyways... someone’s definition might be having a baby and a white picket fence; mine should be managing to survive in New York without health insurance while self-employed.

Me, exemplifying the self-satisfaction that comes with writing about yourself on social media while simultaneously exhibiting how my apartment has been reorganized.

I was recently told by an older friend that your 40s is about learning to love yourself. So I guess I’ve got 4 more years of trying to “make it” before I can officially give up and force myself to be happy with (or at least acknowledge) what I’ve achieved thus far, and worry about nothing more. Looking forward to that menial office job and craft room in the sky!

Colophon sweater & socks: UNIQLO; toque: Army & Navy; sweatpants: Alternative Apparel; mug: some print-on-demand company; glasses: Steven Alan clearance; plants: IKEA & Home Depot; couchy thing & kitchen island: IKEA; stool: Target; status candle: Diptyque; filing cabinet: Walmart.com; wall poster: Grilli Type; everything nice: probably MoMA Design Store deep discount; caramel recipe: David Lebovitz; optional subtitle: “Or, How I Never Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Hustle”; most horrifying thing I remember from a dream last night: Kylie Jenner; most stupefying thing to waste time image searching: Kylie Jenner’s teenage face transformation; best thing to snog as the clock strikes midnight when home alone on NYE: duty-free booze

[snowpatrolfanclubbrazil]

Gary Lightbody’s moment came two years ago in a gym in Santa Monica. The Snow Patrol frontman has long had a reputation for indulging his appetites. But even he was going at it on a bigger scale, with a fierce, Valhallan vigour.

The band’s last tour had finished in late 2012. And then: “I started drinking,” he says, “with a gusto that a professional boxer might train for a prize fight. It’d be mostly beer. I was quite a happy drunk. There was a hell of a lot of fun. Until it wasn’t.

“I’d get to 2am sitting on my own, have a cry, and then a glass of something [stronger]. I didn’t have any relationships and I wasn’t having sex either. I was very hermetic. Around 2015/2016 I was drinking every day and also I was hating it. I regret doing it even though I knew I was doing it out of compulsion.”

He was hitting the gym in the mornings to sweat it off. Then came the moment.

“I bent down to touch my toes and everything started spinning. It felt like the floor beneath me was moving. I thought it was an earthquake. But it kept going on. I phoned a friend who lived around the corner. I was like, ‘Are we having an earthquake?’ He said ‘Something’s going on here’.

“I had a bunch of CT scans on my head. My whole head was infected – sinus, ears, eyes, everything. I’d been having styes and stuff on my eyes. Stick a teabag on it. This was the week before I was going to France to see Northern Ireland play in their first tournament in 30 years. I said to the doctor, ‘I’m flying to France in five days’. He’s like, ‘No you’re not. If you flew with the air pressure it’d feel like daggers ripping into your head’. I was still thinking maybe I’ll be alright. I spoke to a friend, Gabrielle, an acupuncturist, an extraordinary human being. She’d been trying to get me to stop drinking for a while…”

So he stopped. Or at least, he began to stop. And in flooded the dark realities he’d been masking.

In recent weeks, as he’s been working around the release of Wildness, Snow Patrol’s first album in seven years, Lightbody has started to talk for the first time about the mental health problems which have plagued him for years. (“I didn’t talk about anything; nobody knew, the band didn’t know.”) Last year, after 12 months sober, came another key moment.

“Last summer,” he says, “I thought I’d be relieved to get the album done. We’d just finished. But I wasn’t. I was devastated. I’d opened a place in my psyche and I didn’t know how to shut the door. It was like the ark of the covenant was opened [from Raiders Of The Lost Ark] and there were melting faces left and right and I didn’t know how to shut the thing down. So instead of talking to somebody I tried to shut myself out. Let my own face melt. And the band knew something and they flew from London and arrived at the door and I broke down and told them everything.

“I have a depressive personality that has no relationship with reality. I could be having the best time on the surface and yet my depression goes, ‘You’re still a cunt. Don’t forget that. I’m dragging you down into the ink and the dirt and the darkness’. I could be playing to 15,000 people and three hours later be on a hotel room crying on the floor. That’s happened a bunch of times. The depression and the success have no relation to each other. It’s just part of me. I’ve learned that rather than running from it, which you can never really do – you can never run away from yourself – is you have and turn and face it and look it in the eye and say I’m not afraid of you anymore.”

And so he went home. Back to Northern Ireland, to North Down where he was brought up. It’s the place he was desperate to leave in 1994, when he ran to Dundee to start university, to start the band, to start years of chipping away with no success. Then he wrote Run, and everything changed.

It’s easy, given their time away, to forget just how huge Snow Patrol were for a period from the mid-to-late Noughties. Nobody, really, was bigger.

The song Chasing Cars, from fourth album Eyes Open, was picked up for US hit TV show Grey’s Anatomy and propelled them to huge fame. Lightbody moved to Santa Monica around 2009 (“Soon as my feet hit the sand in Santa Monica something just hit and I thought, I want to live here”).

Recently he claimed he’d moved back to Northern Ireland because the band were getting ready to work again and he needed to be near them. But it feels like the truth is a little more complicated.

It’s a time in Northern Ireland as well when it feels like we’re at a bit of a crossroads again.

“You’re right. There are quite a few reasons. My dad isn’t well, my mum isn’t coping very well and my niece is going to be 11 in July. I’ve missed most of her life living in LA.

“And I missed home. It’s a time in Northern Ireland as well when it feels like we’re at a bit of a crossroads again. I felt a bit of calling back here. Not that I figure I can help in any way, but I certainly won’t feel connected if I’m 5,000 miles away. I wanted to reconnect.”

We’re meeting today in the Crawfordsburn Inn, the picture-postcard hotel not far from Gary’s shorefront home, overlooking Belfast Lough.

It feels timely. We meet on the 20th anniversary of a concert in Belfast’s Waterfront Hall, hosted by U2, that helped deliver a huge YES vote in the referendum for the Good Friday Agreement. In a nation where defiant NOs had been the lingua franca, a YES was significant. A political statement and a cleansing.

On that day, John Hume and David Trimble were ushered onstage by Bono, a man with a keen eye for a moment. U2 sang Don’t Let Me Down. Ash were there too, being young and hopeful. Twenty years on, as Lightbody says, Northern Ireland is at a bit of crossroads. And he’s found his way home.

The album, Wildness, is worth the wait. If Snow Patrol had touched on themes of running and movement in the past, Wildness has a leitmotif of finally settling. The word ‘home’ is laced through several songs. Two tracks in particular illustrate what Snow Patrol can really do – the anthemic reach of the huge, wondrous opening track Life on Earth (a track that took Gary five years to complete), and the intimacy of What If This Is All The Love You Ever Get?, a piece with just Gary on piano, a heartbreaker written for a friend going through a divorce.

The song Soon marks another significant theme. It deals with Lightbody’s father Jack’s battle with Alzheimer’s. It’s a simple builder, full of grace notes and sadness. There is something quietly heroic in it. The video, filmed in Lightbody’s apartment, sees him and his father watching old home movies his dad recorded through the years. As well as the sadness over what his father is losing, there is an understanding of a farewell to lost youth, that the hopefulness of that other country is worth revisiting for both of them.

I have a lot of respect for him so I wanted to honour him, but at the same time I also have a lot of guilt for being away for most of my adult life.

“I love my dad,” he says. “I have a lot of respect for him so I wanted to honour him, but at the same time I also have a lot of guilt for being away for most of my adult life. I don’t just mean LA, I mean Glasgow, London, or on tour constantly. And there is probably a place in my head where I go when I’m feeling homesick and that is both a place of calm and nostalgia and also a place of guilt and some shame.

“I’ve felt I’ve been running away, most of the time from myself. So (he pauses)… some of the home references are me feeling disconnected rather than connected…. feeling like I’d never really found a home. I never truly felt at home when I was growing up in Northern Ireland. Then I left and never really felt at home anywhere else. And then I moved back to Northern Ireland and now I do feel at home here, but that has also coincided with me feeling at home inside my own body. Which was the whole problem the whole time. I wasn’t comfortable with myself. I didn’t like myself. So you have to figure that out before you can feel at home anywhere.”

The band’s influence and legacy goes beyond their own work. They’ve helped shape the sounds that have become pervasive in post-millennial pop. Lightbody and band member Johnny McDaid have written with, among others Ed Sheeran, Taylor Swift and One Direction. Snow Patrol took Sheeran on the road in the States in 2011, helping him break through. They remain close.

“Between myself and Johnny McDaid we’ve written a lot of things for other pop acts, him more than me,” he says. “I would say Ed came fully formed from his first album. He’d done the groundwork. All the grafting that you need to do, when you’re a young band. He busked his ass off from the age of 15 on the streets of London, sleeping on his mate’s couch. He had turned up to gigs and said to promoters can you give me 15 minutes after the doors open. And promoters say aye. That’s how he started. He grafted harder and still does to this day – harder than anyone I know.”

Sheeran is returning the favour, taking Snow Patrol on an American stadium tour this autumn.

Refusing to accept Snow Patrol as fountainheads of a sound, Lightbody says they are more like Zelig, “probably bystanders”.

One got away, though. Mutual friend James Corden introduced Lightbody to Adele.

“It happened to be a birthday of somebody that James and Adele knew.… and I sat down with her and she said when are we going to do [a song]. We did two days – Adele, Johnny McDaid and me – the bones of three really amazing fucking songs. But we never got round to finishing it. And then the album came out and obviously we weren’t on it.”

While his own album has just come out, there is already pressure to get busy on the next. Longtime producer, friend and mentor Garret ‘Jacknife’ Lee has been in touch (“he says we need to get cracking on the next one”).

For now, ahead of their own arena tour in the winter, Lightbody is learning to cope, listening to podcasts (“Stuff You Should Know from HowStuffWorks is my favourite one”) and Bon Iver (“I think he’s the finest songwriter alive”) and working things out.

“Me, now not drinking, I like myself but I’m socially awkward. I’d rather be sitting with bandmates, my family. I’m 41. I know what I want.”

And that is?

“Peace. I want to make sure that every day of my life I take a moment and realise everything is calmer. I’ve learned how to meditate, learned how to do qigong. Learned a whole load of practices that I do every day. They mitigate the madness. The greatest thing I ever did for my own emotional wellbeing was to talk.”

And if we went back 20 years as this all started, and said here are the successes, here are the demands it’ll make on you mentally, personally, physically – would you have taken it?

“I would have taken it for half the successes. I can’t believe what happened to us. I still can’t believe when I look back at it, at everything that is successful that has been good. At everything that is still happening. It’s a dream. It’s a bloody dream.”

Wildness is out now. @pauldmcnamee

[timeclonemike]

Time to reinstall it again.

So. There’s this thing about Deus Ex that’s been rattling around in my head for a while.

The original game was iconic because despite its flaws and the limitations of the engine, it existed in a sweet spot of storytelling narrative, world exploration, stealth, combat, and strategy. It wasn’t the first First Person Shooter / Role Playing Game hybrid, but it was one of the best for a long time and still holds up today.

But I think some games that tried to follow in its footsteps, including the later installments in the same franchise, missed the mark when aiming for that sweet spot. I don’t necessarily mean choices to port to consoles or not, or engine limitations, or anything that exists on the technological side of the game design process. I mean the stories that these games are trying to tell.

In the original Deus Ex, there was some optional dialog when talking to one of the members of the old guard Illuminati where he explains the whole psychological aspect of secrecy and inducting recruits into a multi-tiered conspiracy; the prospect of learning increasingly valued and restricted information is the biggest incentive for the new guys to do well by whatever standards the group uses to evaluate people. (I think it was Stanton Dowd but don’t hold me to that.)

Whether or not the writers intended to or not, they were also describing the progression of a player through the game itself. Every new objective met and mission accomplished and note found and computer hacked filled in another blank, completed more of the jigsaw puzzle, until by the time the endgame starts if the player has been playing attention, they know what’s going on and how high the stakes are.

The focal point of the original Deus Ex was secrecy and trust. You start out working for a top secret task force that holds its cards very close to its vest by design. When you find out that they’re the fox guarding the chicken coop and switch sides, you end up working with... more groups that hold their cards close. Do you trust these organized crime guys to help you and not stab you in the back? Do you believe this lady whose apartment is filled with the telltale sound of security lasers? Do you take your pilots advice? Do you listen to the voice in your head? If you’re working with organized crime now, maybe you’re the bad guy after all. Maybe your old bosses were hardcore hard-asses because the sociopolitical situation is that fucked up. Maybe society really does need an invisible hand on the steering wheel, if ordinary people are just going to panic and turn on each other. Or maybe there are no good guys in this war, just competing assholes with different outfits.

These are the questions that a first time player had to ask themselves, and it isn’t until you start screwing around in the VersaLife facility that you start to find evidence supporting what your allies are actually telling you in dialog, emails, and infolink transmissions. You find the Dragon’s Tooth blueprints and spread that around. Doing that, you find out about the Universal Constructor and its role in the creation of Grey Death and Ambrosia. You blow that up (and according to newspapers most of the VersaLife building) and you find out about the supertanker. Scuttle that and both before and after you learn more about the Illuminati and Majestic Twelve, so you head to Paris and so on and so on and so on... every step fills in more of the blanks. Honestly a conspiracy thriller is the perfect story to tell using a video game because the pacing is so compatible.

Now let’s look at what was not the focus of Deus Ex: Questions about the human condition and the socioeconomic implications of technological assistance. Mechanical augmentation is old school by the time JC Denton gets dumped out of the incubator tank with his cutting edge nanotechnology based augments. There’s two other mechs working at UNATCO, the bartender at Underworld, and maybe Jojo Fine, even if his are cosmetic. The MJ12 Commandos are, according to one email, outfitted with “off-the-shelf” hardware that turns them into walking weapons platforms with enhanced vision and hearing, and running off of standard power supplies. The questions of how this technology would change the human condition and society didn’t get directly addressed during the main plot because for the most part, they didn’t matter; the world was literally falling apart and everyone had much more important stuff to think about. Like not catching an incurable disease. Or finding enough food to live another day.

The implications of what the technology could do to or for people did get addressed in the endgame, but in service to the game’s central theme of trust and secrecy. Technology is a force multiplier and by exploiting the developments in nano augments, artificial intelligence, and the Universal Constructor, Bob Page was turning himself into God. Omniscient, able to manipulate information on a global scale through Helios and the Aquinus Protocol, immortal, and theoretically invincible through his armies of mass produced robots, engineered life forms, and loyal followers. And Bob Page would certainly not be a just and loving god, because he’s an asshole with a massive ego. So he can’t be allowed to become One With All Things. Aside from that, the game is open ended in what happens next, and it comes down to trust in the end; you can trust humanity to steer its own course with nobody in the shadows trying to pull strings, you can trust your fellow conspirators to steer humanity in the right direction behind the scenes... or. You can say “fuck this” and do it yourself by merging with the Helios AI before Page does and becoming a much more benevolent higher power than he would ever be, no matter how much of a dick you were in game.

This is the problem I have with Invisible War, Human Revolution, and to a lesser extent Mankind Divided because I haven’t played it (waiting for a Steam Sale) and I don’t know how much it takes its cues from the other two games. Basically, the dichotomy between augmented and non augmented humans is given center stage, driving the conflict between different factions even when engineered by a third faction behind the scenes. Even within the context of it being another attempt by conspirators to guide human society in a direction that they want it to go, it dominates the philosophical landscape of the plot as well. This is especially true when both sides are presented as having good points, and both sides are shown being supported by assholes who will do anything to further their ideals, and other assholes who use the ideals of their action as an excuse to be assholes. The entire narrative tension becomes a never ending circle jerk until the player picks a side and kills key members of the other one.

Not that anyone’s asked me, but I think the Deus Ex franchise needs to return to its roots of secrecy, trust, and open ended philosophical meandering. And to a limited extent, I have some ideas on how to do this.

First, focus on a plot that really emphasizes the idea of a conspiracy seizing power purely for the sake of power itself. This disconnects the main antagonist, whoever they are, from whatever philosophical arguments get made in the rest of the game.

Second, the question of “what it means to be human” needs to go back into the setting background again. Have it crop up in newspaper articles, blog posts, books and ebooks, have it be something that academics can make tenure arguing about, and (this is important) only have NPCs bring it up when it directly affects them. And have most of the NPC banter and dialog be entirely based around stuff that people today can relate to; incompetent politicians playing fast and loose with the rules, the rising costs of health care, climate change and deniers of the same, economic uncertainty in all of its many many flavors, natural disasters, and mixed in with all of that is a little bit of concern about augments and how it affects their lives specifically. Hell, include a parody news article where augment producing companies complain that post-millennial generations are “ruining” the augmentation market.

Third, bring back skills all the way. Deus Ex started you out with a flashlight in your eyes and a radio in your skull, with options for upgrades later, so you had to get by with your wits, planning, and whatever you put your skill points into during character creation. In Invisible War Alex starts with just the flashlight, but their entire genetic structure has been developed from the ground up to prototype universal genetic alteration and biomod integration. Adam Jensen kicks a reasonable amount of ass with just his tricked out gun during the opening interactive cutscene / tutorial of Human Revolution, and does real well right up until he gets bushwacked by Team Asshole, after which his boss has them put literally everything in the Serif Industries catalog into the guy’s body. No Deus Ex protagonist can ever realistically be expected to align themselves with the anti-modification side in any conflict without invoking emotional manipulation, delusion, a suicide mission, or a vendetta against whoever wired them up without their consent. So either the mods have to be completely optional, or the social dichotomy has to be completely optional. (Or a completely unimportant background detail compared to the rest of the plot.)

Fourth, if you have to keep some sort of dichotomy, make it more complicated than just two sides, for and against. Make it like real life. Make it complicated as different people go “well I agree with this part but that other thing is a deal breaker” and mix and match until the whole human augmentation position exists on a grid system just like political ideologies do, measured using two different X and Y axes. Or (I cannot believe I’m saying this) take a page out of Civilization Beyond Earth’s book with the Affinities, especially the Hybrid Affinities from Rising Tide:

Purity: No augments at all. Skills only

Harmony: Biotech and genetic engineering.

Supremacy: Mechanical augments.

Purity / Harmony: Genetic engineering, but only to wipe out disease and increase humanity’s natural abilities.

Purity / Supremacy: Cybernetics as a matter of utility and tool use, no AI research or enhancing the brain beyond what’s needed to interface with the augments.

Harmony / Supremacy: Transhumanism or bust!

This also lends itself to different abilities and how they get developed. So instead of just mech stuff added by surgery, there’s also retroviral gene therapy, and with skills that makes a trinity of abilities that all need to be balanced. Or at least, if a player goes all in with one group, it requires a certain play style to do (probably with an achievement for beating the game that way). If skills are about what you can do in the world and how well you can interact with objects in that world (five different weapons skills to choose from, hacking, picking locks, etc) then it would make sense for genetic engineering to add passive upgrades and abilities like health regen, improved strength and reflexes, resistance to toxins and knockout darts, and so on. Meanwhile mechanical augments go straight for adding functionality and integrating technology, as with the infolink and seeing through walls. Having all three of these categories be open ended, without any artificial mutual exclusion and railroading along a specific path, means that a player is limited entirely by the circumstances they find or expect to find, and the opportunity cost of making one choice at the exclusion of others. Presumably the requirements for skill progression involved going out and doing things, while mech augments need at least outpatient surgery, and gene therapy requires some convalescence and has a nasty debuff effect while the virus is playing with the PC’s DNA, so there’s that tension going on. Also, augments probably require money while skills can be improved for free, but upgrades for the equipment that skills use, ammunition, and supplies also cost money, so there’s that resource management aspect.

This also means that the players allies and enemies can be more varied as well, because no group is defined purely by adherence to one type of ability or another. The groups are defined by where they stand in relation to the conspiracy driving the main plot (part of it or not, supporting it or not, aware of it or not) and possibly a completely tangential goal or mission like money for a mercenary team. This means that allied groups have more room to have memorable characters, and so do enemy groups as well. It also means that fighting against a specific group requires a lot more planning and tactical thinking, if they have a team made of different people whose abilities compliment each other.

And that’s about all I have on this subject, at least for the moment. It’s getting late and I have to peel potatoes in the morning.

[peanott]

92 Questions

@useless--mind thanks for tagging me bud!! i love doing these even if no one gives a shit

Last:

1. Drink: milk

2. Phone call: with my grandpa

3. Text message: “👀👀👀“

4. Song you listened to: ultra bra - kaunis ja ylpee 

5. Time I cried: cant remember the last time i properly cried (its not even a rare occurrence just doesnt pop into my mind wtf) but my eyes got wet like two hours ago bc my sister sent me silly pics with her baby and was just extraordinarily sweet love her :(

Have You:

 6. Dated someone twice: no

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: nope

8. Been cheated on: nah

9. Lost someone special: yeah

10. Been depressed: yes

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: unfortunately................

List Three Favorite Colors:

12. violet

13. baby blue

14. orange mayb

In The Last Year Have You:

15. Made new friends: ive got closer with a few people so kinda? 

16. Fallen out of love: wtf is this love ya keep talkin bout

17. Laughed until you cried: yes

18. Found out someone was talking about you: hahaha yeah 

19. Met someone who changed you: nah

20. Found out who your friends are: in a way? ive not been thinking about this profoundly at all but the way ive perceived some people has strengthened for better and worse which led into new relationship dynamics

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: not on the lips 

General:

22. How many Facebook friends do you know in real life: vast majority

23. Do you want to change your name: noo im used to it but at the same time it sometimes hits me that its ACTUALLY my name (its not even anything special i just have confusing thoughts) so it does keep me on my toes and wont get bored of it 

24. What did you do for your last birthday: I CANT REMEMBER lmao ok i dont think we celebrated it on my actual birthday at all bc it wasnt practical that way but i had my sisters over the day before

25. What time did you wake up: 7am cause i hate myseldf

26. What were you doing last night at midnight: drinking water at my friends so id sober up bc im a fucking idiot pls slap me thrice dont hate me 

27. Name something you can’t wait for: get used to the new school i go to in two days (yea i havent even started yet but i can feel the bricks im shitting for the next month or so)

28. When was the last time you saw your mom: an hour ago?

29. What is the one thing you wish you could change in your life: i wanna be able to enjoy living my life properly and take more risks without worrying all the time  

30. What are you listening to right now: partners in crime part three by the internet

31. Have you talked to a person named Tom: no?

32. Most visited website(s): twitter tumblr youtube how generic

Lost Questions:

33. Mole(s): i have three moles (on my temple, under eye, above eyebrow) that form a triangle i was so ecstatic when i discovered this like two years ago

34. Marks: what kind of?? i mean i have stretch marks one from vaccination but thats it i think

35. Childhood dream: either a fashion designer or a housewife lmao

36. Hair color: mYsTiC vIoLeT according to the hair dye idk its hard to describe a dark mix of brown n purple (and red?)

37. Do you have a crush on someone: no

38. What do you like about yourself: that im quite tolerant and considerate of others, how self-aware i am cause thats the only thing that will keep me sane, i can be funny and not take things that seriously but still have extensive opinions and  thoughts on everything

39. Piercings: both ears x2

40. Blood type: a(+ i think) 

41. Nicknames: vertsi or however you wanna twist it its fine i love it

42. Relationship Status: singley

43. Zodiac Sign: taurus

44. Pronouns: she/her

45. Favorite TV shows: oitnb, lie to me, htgawm, skins, drag race, the get down, black mirror

46. Tattoos: none

47. Right or Left hand: right

48. Surgery: none

49. Hair Dyed A Different Color: ye different variations of brown and purple

50. Vacation: last one was to budapest about three years ago

51. Pair Of Trainers: i stole a pair from my mum idk theyre black and pink or some shit

More Generals:

52. Eating: last time? a croissant 

53. Drinking: nothing rn 

54. I’m about to: finish this and then go to sleep

55. Waiting for: a pleasant surprise 

56. Want: a proper social life

57. Get married: idk i loved my sisters wedding but i wouldnt consider marriage a necessity from a romantic point of view. if i ever get married its probably for the legal stuff and the ceremony will be low-budget and simple 

58. Career: probably gonna do something with psychology or languages

Which Is Better:

59. Hugs or Kisses: hugs ?whats a kiss?

60. Lips or eyes: eyes

61. Short or tall: idc!!! ok im kind of intimidated by tall people i feel like they could crush me in a heartbeat but maybe that adds into my excitement  

62. Older or younger: older for now at least

63. Nice arms or nice stomach: great the two body parts that barely hold any meaning to me good choice 

64. Sensitive or loud: im personally both (ok we gotta debate on the loud part with some people) but i think i value someone that is more likely to understand my own sensitivity so i guess sensitive it is

65. Hook up or relationship: relationship

66. Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker sounds disgusting but i guess that since they would push my hesitant ass to do some stretching out of my comfort zone

Have You Ever:

67. Kissed a stranger: no

68. Had hard liquor: yes

69. Lost glasses/contact lenses: no

70. Turned someone down: kind of 

71. Sex on first date: no

72. Broken someone’s heart: naah

73. Had my heart broken: nope

74. Been arrested: no

75. Cried when someone died: yes

76. Fallen For a Friend: fgjhjh kinda... got over it fast tho cause it was impossible

Do You Believe In:

77. Yourself: No I Do Not Exist We Are Collectively Hallucinating Me 

78. Miracles: not really

79. Love at first sight: i believe you can sense if a person is compatible with you BUT ITS NOT LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT YOU ARE JUST A PERCEPTIVE PERSON 

80. Santa Clause: obvs my Dad

81. Kiss on the first date: i dont think it has anything to do with belief if it feels right at that moment then do it 

82. Angels: um? havent you seen the axe commercial :/ 

83. Aliens: yes!!

Other Random Things:

84. Current Best Friend’s name: mira

85. Eye color: blue and grey or some shit

86. Favorite Movie: black swan

87. Hold an object dear to you: my phone love being a #relatable millennial 

88. Favorite Ice Cream Flavour: vanilla or lemon

89. Least favorite thing: when my clothes fall under my bed and then im too scared to dig them out 

90. Name one thing you could change about the world: no social injustice

91. Current Song stuck in your head: i know by fiona apple

92. Favorite Childhood show: powerpuff girls? idk i liked most of the shows from my childhood

jesus christ sorry this is a hot mess made by  someone who tries to function at 2am using their second language @nuddy-pants do this xx

[neverwhere-me]

unpopular opinions

more to come- i need to get this off my chest 

-this girl in my year level that always wanted to sing in assemblies doesn’t have a good voice (frankly why does she even try)

-another girl as well (like why)

-the people who say they’re SO GOOD are fucking fake and these girls need to understand that 

-sometimes i want to tell people to grow up because they act like children

-also related to the first two points i made but why are people so confident of things they are not talented/good at

-why won’t people understand that they need to make mistakes to grow

-why do people have such high standards when they don’t have the means to reach it

-some people don’t have a sense of fashion and are just rockin’ it like i get it you’re confident in what you’re wearing but IT’S SO UGLY PLEASE LEARN HOW TO DRESS YOURSELF AT LEAST LOOK AT FASHION MAGS i beg of you!!!!!! 

-likewise with make up PLEASE LEARN WHAT COLOURS ARE SUITED FOR YOUR COMPLEXION!!!! 

-asians (especially east asians) shouldn’t go for white people make up IT DOES NOT SUIT YOU because it’s made for highlighting their cheekbones WHICH YOU DON’T HAVE sure highlight your face but please don’t try to contour your face pls pls pls I cannot stress this enough

-likewise please don’t try to contour your noses, it won’t give you a high nose bridge sorry but it’s the truth

-as a poc and working in customer service you realise white people only act this way because it’s their world. well don’t because you are not a decent human being

-also no offence i speak better english than y’all because i enunciate everything unlike some of you that slur words together like sorry i don’t understand you

-ppl should date when they’re ready not because all of their friends are dating

-actually, not just for dating, it’s anything in general

-if a guy refuses to do things for you he’s not interested in you

-i don’t understand why some people are such snobs when they know they can’t reach that level of perfection that other people have

-i don’t like people who don’t know their own mother tongue. like i understand you felt bad about who you are when you were growing up, but this just goes on to show you have no respect for the people who brought you into this world/ country etc

-some hipsters are just so snobby there is no need with your fucking kombucha and your inner city lifestyles. why not move to Amsterdam? Denmark? some european country lol i mean it’s safer for you to ride your bike there 

-i get so irritated at cyclists on the road, especially those who think they own that one side of the road. you don’t own anything, we need to share the road even if the current infrastructure doesn’t support it- more needs to be done

-lol why are girls pretending they have a small appetite who are you trying to kid 

-i’m not into stupol because it reminds me of campaigning for changes in high school. i like how people are idealistic and believe in change but i’m not that person i’m way too cynical. 

-i’m also not into rallies because what are you changing sure you are getting media attention but they always portray you as stupid millennial who have nothing better to do with their times

-some people are so naive there are things called ‘grey areas’ aka loopholes which is why businesses can do things that they can and technically not breaking any law lmao pls reconsider your argument Margaret

[skatierose-blog]

3 years and 31 days.

The setting is Grey Lynn, Your cupboard room, Under the harbour bridge, On my deck, drinking piss. The time period expands, To that time I stood you up three years ago, I was such a cunt back then, To thirty-one days ago, when we sat on the hill in  Myers Park, later on that night, I was giddy, In the arcade, full of glowing lights and to me, On that night, you seemed to glow too. Bright. You sucked at Dragon Punch, that’s it, alright? I wrote a list in my journal, of all things I like about you. Poems referencing the state of your mental health, state housing, this overwhelming feeling. Poems in reference to you, curated, well thought-out, I edited them in and out, they summarise my feelings for you,               and this is a summary too. The setting is Mt Eden, the mountain. We argue over which direction my house is in. I'm right, I always win. “There’s Nixon over there! My work! I tumbled down that hill when I was drunk last week!” You pull up your socks, scratch your nose. Tie your hair up, pull it down. Curls, curls, curls. I can smell your shampoo. I can see how uncomfortable it feels, it’s bubbling up inside of you. You run circles around your words, coat them with analogies, you talk about Hayek Something theoretical from Freud, don’t forget, I told you, I fucking hate Freud. Can't you see me smiling, my lips curling up, I enjoy seeing the discomfort inside you, I’m waiting for you to spell it out,   You, worried and nervous, I wait for the beer to sink inside. Finally, your tangled words unravel, unknot, “I think I just want to be platonic friends”. I've already decided, as I fall down the hill hours later, back to your cupboard room, our legs walking, constantly, we are talking, I’ve decided, that you are one of my best friends. 3 years or 31 days seems to be just enough time, for a decision like this. I need a friend like you so much more than a monogamous relationship I could conjure up with a few romantic moments and over analysing,       the way your fingers brushed my shoulders, the way your hands moved the hair from my face, the way you grabbed my waist.   I need a friend like you, to fill the hole of the brother I lost,  the sister who discarded me, the lover who never noticed me, the friendships that never fulfilled me. I could have romanticized you until you became a fixture in my head, Your body, your face, it’s attractive, classically handsome, but I’ve always liked the lines carved across your forehead best, it’s like the thoughts inside have spilled out onto your skin, The stains on your teeth from smoking too many cigarettes, The two black lighters tattooed on your chest, fine 1RL needles depicting metaphors, You wouldn’t be a sociology student without those. These features, decisions, mean more, than how cartilage formed the shape of your nose as you grew, or how much hair sprouts out of your short stubby toes. I'm obsessed with what's in your head, not your body, If I were, I would be disregarding your bodily autonomy, like it could ever belong to me    That’s something that’s fucked about society I don't care who lies in your arms, I don't care who fills the empty space in your bed, I'm obsessed with what's in your head, I want to meet your mum, your step-dad, your dad, your cousin, your friend in hamilton; I want to meet them so I can see them reflected in you. I want to understand why you are incapable, capable, strong, weak If I could figure out the mechanism that ticks over in your head. I could understand you, Maybe in this, I could understand myself. When you said “I just want to be platonic friends” Relief washed over me, a realisation I never want to lose you, because I trust you I trust you with the stories I keep locked in the bottom drawer next to my bed, (not that I've told you all these things yet) just wait for them, get a cup of tea      scrap that, you’ll need a beer or three Your friendship, is so much more important to me, than what we both know you’re scared of, A committed relationship, probably something most millennials are all incapable of A myriad of problems have crafted your fear, your ex girlfriend’s probably right up there I’m scared too, but I know I’m so capable, because I so choose to be,   this sounds neuro-typical but it’s a coping mechanism for my crazy Many moons ago, through hundreds of VBS and washed up conversations on morphine, I decided that fear would never be my decider, a schedule or a calendar I told you approximately 24 days ago, walking towards the harbour bridge, that I breathe clearer in fear, Fear belongs to the bourgeoisie, with my landlord, the doctor, the pharmacist, my dog cunt of a private hematologist with everything draining me, That’s how they want you to feel,        because They created your depression, They crafted the context of your social circle, They created everything and living in fear, is when we belong to them. You learnt about capitalism in your lectures, well it’s here, it’s reflecting in everything, mostly your fear. But Spook, that’s where you’re at. Time won’t heal you. It won’t change any of this, only you deciding for yourself, how your life should go, will change the book you’re authoring. No advice from me, will change the level of life you decide to live and this isn’t Katie’s Advice column in a glossy magazine, it’s a summary for 3 years and 31 days. Back to the setting, It’s you and me, drinking. We’re in another city, Probably Melbourne, maybe Berlin if we’re lucky Years on and friendships in quantity I’m egging you on to just do it. Do something stupid, throw your beer can, throw your fists. You say “No, no, don’t quote me on that, don’t use me for this, not for another fucking poetry book” “stop writing this down katie, you can’t base all your dialogue off me”. Incase you didn’t realise, this is a summary and an introduction, for how I want us to be.