#really bad at describing emotions with words so excuse any weird sounding sentences but like dgjfjf... thats literally why i share my stuff

[dimeadozencows]

(Thank you sm :'],,, ) enjoy your new blog!!!!!!!!!!!

AYY NEW BLOG!

(^^housewarming gift)

DIMEADOZENCOWS!?

Seriously though, thank you!! That’s so nice of you?? I’m just some silly little guy… and you’re very cool…! I’m putting these flowers on my metaphorical mantle.

[the-bau-quinjet]

And I confess, babe

Part 6 of In Breakable Heaven!

Summary: Feelings are confessed... sort of.

Warnings: none 

Word count: ~2400

“There’s something I haven’t been completely honest about.” You blurted out taking a break from cleaning. It had been a few months since Halloween, and you and Spencer have hung out whenever possible, but never calling anything a date. You had both gotten pretty busy with the holidays, but still made time. He is basically your best friend, but you want more than that. You just aren’t sure he feels the same way. 

Spencer turned from where he was reading on the couch immediately mirroring the nervous expression he could see on your face. “What is it? You know you can tell me anything. That’s what friends are for.” Ugh, friends. This is so confusing. As he walked up to you, you thought you noticed a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you brush it off. You need to focus.

You have never told any of your friends about this. It’s almost like you were living two lives and all the sudden you wanted them to merge. Well, really you just wanted an excuse to sing love songs to the man standing in front of you without completely freaking him out. “You know how much I love Taylor Swift, right?” You could see the confusion growing on his face 

“Um, yeah. That’s not exactly a secret…” he chuckles as he searches for the truth in your eyes. 

“Well, um... I kind of... well… it’s not really a big deal, but I… you see…”

 “Y/N, just tell me. I promise not to freak out.” He interrupted, the confusion evident on his face.

“Okay, just… I’m inaTaylorSwiftcoverband…” You blurt, the words rushing from your mouth. You cover your face with your hands. Of course, boy genius understood the mess of a sentence you just said, realization slowly dawning on him.

 “Y/N, why were you so nervous to tell me?” He sounded shocked. “You know I would support you no matter what. When’s your next show? I would love to go see you perform.” The sincerity in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. 

You rushed to hug him as you said “I don’t know why I was so nervous. I guess people can be really harsh when you are a Taylor Swift fan. Nobody takes you seriously, ya know? I started the band because her music made me better at conveying my emotions. It was actually a kind of therapy for me at first, but then I fell in love with performing. I actually wanted to tell you so I could invite you, and the rest of the team, to my next show. It’s Saturday night.”

 He ran his hands up and down your back before pulling away to look you in the eyes. “I will be there.” He said, matter-of-factly. 

“Yay!” You were practically jumping with joy that the conversation went well. It felt kind of stupid to be so worried over other people’s perception of your music interests, but you’ve always been self-conscious of being the “weird” girl. It made even the smallest decision so hard for you. “I want you to invite the rest of the team, but keep it a surprise. I haven’t told Penelope, and I’ve known her 2 years longer than you.” He laughed as you realized how comfortable you must have felt with Spencer to be inviting him and his friends to see you perform. Usually the only way you made it through was knowing there was nobody in the audience that would recognize you enough to make fun of you. But, it was time for a change. You have always been proud of your accomplishments, and the people you called your friends should be a part of that.

 “You should know there’s always a theme to the show. I like to tell a story with her songs, pulling from all the albums helps make it more cohesive.” You wanted him to be a little bit prepared for what you had planned. 

“What’s the story for this show?” Spencer asked, curiosity brewing in his mind. 

“Well Doc, I’m afraid that’s a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.” Spencer kept pestering you to find out the theme, but you refused to tell him. Finally, he returned to reading as you cleaned the rest of your apartment.

--

 Saturday came much faster than you were expecting. The nerves you felt kept growing as you tried to finalize the set list you would be performing in just a few hours. The stories you usually tell don’t normally rely so heavily on your own life experiences. But, that’s why you fell in love with Taylor’s music in the first place. The songs are so relatable. It’s incredible how well she can convey emotions and stories with her lyrics. Plus, this is your chance to tell Spencer how you feel without having too much pressure. If he doesn’t say anything about the obvious theme, you could just pretend you made up the story for the audience. It would be fine. No pressure at all.

 The hours until your show drifted away as you got ready and arrived at the venue. You were actually playing in an auditorium instead of a bar for the first time in a few months. The night had been heavily marketed for couples since Valentine’s day is next week, but you knew your friends would all be there to support you. Going over the set list with the band, they knew exactly what mood you were going for. It was clear there were three sections to the night: 1) the break up, drawing heavily on your experience with Drew, 2) moving on from the failed relationship as you form a new crush, possibly on an incredibly hot doctor, and 3) where you wanted this new relationship to go. That storyline is what made the marketing so good. Couples could come and just be in love, relating the music to their own lives. Plus, people were itching for something to do since no real artists were touring in DC right now.

 You glance out at the audience as the lights flicker, indicating only a few minutes until show time. You find Spencer and the rest of the crew, barring Hotch and Rossi, easily as you put them in the front row. You wanted to be able to see their faces, or completely look over their heads. It all depends on the expression of the one and only Spencer Reid.

 “Hello, and welcome to the show!” You try to hide the nerves. You’ve done this plenty of times, but knowing who is in the audience is taking a toll. “In case you didn’t know, with every show I do, I try to tell a story. Usually, it is based on a movie or a book, but today I am trying something a little bit new. No book, no movie, just a story. It’s got three parts to it. Part one sucks.” You laugh along with the audience. “It’s about a breakup and learning to move on. So let’s get started!”

 You immediately jump into the first song Babe. Technically it features Taylor Swift, but she wrote it so it counts. Plus, it is the perfect song to describe your feelings to finding Drew cheating on you, and she did write it.

 This is the last time I’ll ever call you Babe.

 “Now, I know how hard it can be to get over someone who you’ve been with a long time. Especially when combined with the pain of them cheating on you. This next song describes that mentality of recognizing that someone won’t change because you want them to. Sometimes, the best thing to do is cry and scream and move on.” The instrumental to You’re Not Sorry begins to play as you calm you’re nerves.

 This is the last straw. Don’t wanna hurt anymore. And you can tell me that you’re sorry, but I don’t believe you baby like I did before. You’re not sorry. No, no, no no.

 “I know, I know. No more sad songs! After you break up with someone, it can be pretty hard to not miss what you had. But eventually, you’ll get to a point where when they call you in the middle of the night, all you have to say is We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Like ever.”

 You make it through the next song without a hitch. The crowd is clearly enjoying the show, which is actually helping with your nerves. You’ve glanced at your friends a few times, but nothing that lingers. You’re not quite mentally prepared to look at Spencer yet.

 “With every breakup, there is some amount of time afterward where you can’t help but think about them. No matter how badly it ended, there is at least a day. It could slowly fade out or it could just disappear one day, like magic. Either way, this song is how I personally feel once that window of time ends.”

 I forgot that you existed. It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it‘s just indifference.

 This song really helped turn the mood around. Everybody is dancing and singing, clearly enjoying themselves. As the song ends, your nerves return a bit. This is the scary part.

 “And with that, we move on to part 2! As the saying goes, the best way to get over him is to get under someone else. Well, that’s not exactly where this is going, but it follows the same general logic.” The instrumental to Enchanted has already started as you finish the intro “Meeting someone who helps take your mind off the bad by making new memories.”

 All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you. This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home.

 This is the first song you are singing directly to Spencer, even if you can’t even look at him. You glance at every other member of the BAU, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it to him. Not yet.

 Please don’t be in love with someone else. Please don’t have somebody waiting on you.

 You can feel the sting in your throat that comes from thinking of Spencer being with someone else, finally making you look at him. He seems happy. He’s not dancing as much as everyone else, but he is swaying. You count it as a win.

 “Now, I’m not saying the only way to get over a breakup is a new relationship. Sometimes, you just need a friend.” You clear your throat to go right into the next song.

 Wanna hang out? Yeah, sounds like fun. Video games, you pass me a note. Sleeping in tents. It’s nice to have a friend.

 This is where it’s supposed to be obvious who you are singing to. None of your newly formed friends really know the extent of your relationship with Spencer. But, you’ve convinced him to try a lot of new things. It started small, with hiking, but eventually you got him to agree to a short camping trip over a long weekend. It was freezing since it was November, but you just cuddled together around the fire. That is what makes this so nerve wracking. You are terrified of messing up your friendship.

 “Friends are the best resource post breakup. They always know how to put a smile on my face, no matter what I’m upset about. You could go so far as to say I’m Only Me When I’m With You.” You laugh at the corny joke, knowing that’s the next song you’re singing. “To be completely honest, this is kind of a story of the past few months of my life. I had a pretty bad breakup, but I met some new friends who really helped me through it. It’s nice to be completely honest about yourself with someone else.”

 I don’t try to hide my tears, my secrets, or my deepest fears. And through it all, nobody gets me like you do.

 “Now, we move onto the third and final part of the show. We’ve covered the past and the present, so all that’s left is the future! The future is unknown, which is kinda of scary when you think about it. So, it can really help to have someone who makes you feel Fearless.” So many lyrics make you want to stare at Spencer.

 I wanna ask you dance right there, in the middle of the parking lot.

-

Run your hands through your hair, absentmindedly making me want you.

-

And I don’t know why, but with you I’d dance in a storm in my best dress, fearless.

-

You’ve decided against looking at Spencer and the rest of the profilers. If you make eye contact you know they would 100% be able to see right through you. Just two more songs to get through. You don’t even pause to talk before the next song is playing.

 Cause all I know is you said, “Hello” and your eyes look like coming home.

 You’ve spent so long thinking about Spencer and his perfect freaking eyes that you subconsciously glance at him right then. The second you realize, you look away again, missing the look of complete adoration on his face.

 And meet me there tonight and let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

 “Alrighty folks, I’ve got one more song for you. You probably could’ve guessed it by now, part 3 is about a future relationship, one I’m not currently in. But that’s the thing about the future, you never really know what it holds.” This is where shit goes a little bit sideways. You didn’t plan on changing the lyrics. Most of the profilers seem to miss it, not recognizing that you switched one very crucial word in the song. The one profiler that notices the mistake has spent the last four months listening to every Taylor Swift song ever written because he’s spent so much time with you, and you are always listening to something.

 Dark jeans and your converse, look at you. Oh damn, never seen that color blue.

 Oh damn is right. You somehow manage to make it through the rest of the song, but now Spencer knows you were singing to him. You can’t decide if you’re glad it’s out there or if you are going to puke the second you run off stage.

 “Delicate is about the beginnings of a romance. It’s that point where you are scared any sudden movements will shatter everything you’ve built so far.” You take one final deep breathe. “It’s about admitting your feelings because you can’t move forward without taking the next step. That’s what the future is all about. Thank you all for coming, goodnight!” And with that, you left.

 tag list:

@mac99martin​ @goldeng1rl8​ @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97

[lemondoddle]

The Incident

ao3 link

It was Thursday afternoon and Jon was hiding in his office, pretending that he wasn’t avoiding Martin. Well. Alright. He was avoiding Martin a little bit, but it’s not like he was avoiding him out of malice or irritation, he just… can’t really look at him right now, which doesn’t exactly sound better. Look, the whole mess had started because Martin had suddenly become a lot more...tactile around Jon. It’s not that Martin wasn’t a touchy-feely person in general- Jon noticed Martin’s friendly touches with Sasha and listened to rave reviews about his hugs from Tim- it just seemed so sudden and unlikely for Martin to extend that to Jon. He assumed that technically being Martin’s superior (along with being a bit of an ass if he’s honest with himself) would have deterred the man from being so friendly, and yet...

  It was little things at first; a hand on the shoulder to get Jon’s attention, seemingly not being aware if their hands brushed while he handed out tea, and on one particularly distracting occasion, a large but feather-light hand placed on Jon’s back as he squeezed past him in the breakroom. Each time left Jon still feeling warmth in the areas Martin had made contact, as if he was still there. Nothing he couldn’t shake off and ignore to fall back into his work though. At least- it was like that until The Incident.

The Incident had occurred just minutes ago.

Jon had been walking through the stacks of the archives looking for a specific statement that might have been related to the one he’d just recorded. He would describe making his way through the shelves as “a bit lost in thought” while others might say “dead to the world”. Either way, his attention was preoccupied and therefore did not notice Martin making his way from the other end. The thing about the stacks is that there is very little space in between shelves even for one person, much less two. Martin did his best to stay out of the way, as he often seemed to do, but inevitably bumped against Jon as he made his way past. Jon jolted back, snapping out of his trance, twisted to face the sudden contact and immediately slammed his back into the shelving unit behind him somewhat violently. Upon impact, some of the file boxes haloing Jon began to wobble and tip forward. Martin took notice and lunged forward with an “Oh!”, splaying his arms out to stabilise the boxes. Once the commotion settled and Jon was aware of his surroundings, he desperately wished he wasn’t as he took in the scene in front of him. Pinned against the shelf with Martin in incredibly close proximity, arms on either side of Jon’s head. None of which was helped by their disparage in height leading to Jon being nearly face-to-chest with the man.

It took several agonizingly long seconds to process what on earth just happened before either of them started to move. “Oh christ- I’m so sorry Jon I didn’t mean to startle you-” Martin sputtered, face flushing an impressive shade of pink as he backed away quickly as he could while still being mindful of the shelves. As he did so his hands rested feather-light on Jon’s shoulders for just a moment before falling away, but Jon felt that phantom heat all the same and had to take yet another moment to compose himself.  

“It’s, uh, it’s fine Martin. I was a bit zoned out there, I had no idea you were there.” Though not quite as red as Martin, Jon’s face still burned as he desperately avoided eye contact. While the shock and mortification dissipated, Jon’s mind lingered on that small touch and took note of another feeling, familiar from his previous moments of contact with Martin that he couldn’t quite place. There was something else there, an underlying emotion lurking after each of the brief touches Jon received, but only after the contact had ceased. Relief didn’t feel quite right. Coldness? No, it was more- wait.

Loss. Longing. A desire for the contact to return and to stay.

Fucking Hell.

At this realization coming on with all the grace and tenderness of a freight train, Jon did his best to spit out an excuse and promptly sped out from the stacks, refusing to look back and silently thankful for always having been a fast walker. He snaked through the bullpen back to his office and caught a glimpse of Tim and Sasha, who were fairly in view of the whole scene and most likely having an oscar-worthy dialogue through eyebrow and facial expressions alone. Jon somewhat succeeded in not slamming the door shut before collapsing into his chair, throwing his glasses off and pressing his hands so hard into his face he’d be concerned of bruising in any other circumstance.

So, there he was. squirrelled away in his office and wishing he could deny himself as easily as he does the statements that surround him. As if taking on the archaic archives mess in a position he was unqualified for wasn’t enough, now he’s got a traitorous heart to boot. Great. It just had to be Martin of all people hadn’t it? Might as well be his luck to fall for the one person he’s been the biggest ass to. What on earth was he going to do now? He was only good at ignoring his feelings when he didn’t look too closely at them, but now that he has unwillingly confronted them he doubted they’ll be easy to push down again. Before Jon could get even farther down his thought spiral though, there was a knock at his door.

“Jon? Are you alright in there?” Martin’s muffled voice could be heard through the door.

 Uh oh. He was in no way recovered enough to be facing anyone at the moment, let alone the source of all these… feelings. Jon froze like a deer in headlights (or as Tim would say, a deer in the headlights of lo- nope nope shut that thought down immediately. focus.). It seems as though Jon’s indecisive silence was enough of an answer for Martin, who called out again.

“Jon? I’m coming in there, okay?” 

Shit. Act natural. Jon scrambled around his desk for a few seconds and managed to shove his glasses back on and grab hold of a statement copy and a pen to pretend like he was doing something as Martin timidly stepped through the door. “Hey, I just wanted to check that you were okay after I knocked into you, you looked pretty spooked back there if I’m being honest.” Jon didn’t even have it in him to pull a face at Martin’s use of the word “spooky” as he fumbled for a sufficient answer.

“H-honestly it’s okay Martin, not the first time I've been startled due to focusing on something, that’s not what I was worried about.” It seemed like a perfectly reasonable response, that is until Jon replayed the last sentence in his head and realized his mistake.

“Really? Then what was?” Martin’s face scrunched up a bit while he recalled their encounter, which only seemed to deepen the furrow in his brow. “Oh, jeez Jon you should have told me that I was being too touchy with you if it made you uncomfortable!” His hands fluttered to reach out in an apology before seemingly catching himself and withdrawing again. Jon wished that implication would have brought relief, however he found panic spiking yet again and a desperate need to correct it as he rose from his chair.

“No no Martin i- it’s fine I don’t mind when you, ah-” he stopped short. This was all getting to be a little too much for his brain right now.

“Really? Because you don’t sound terribly convincing at the moment..”

“Yes, really! Look-” he reached out to Martin to prove his point. “See? Completely fine.”

Martin’s face turned from slightly concerned to wide-eyed and rapidly reddening. “Um...Jon?” he squeaked out.

“Yes? what is it?” Jon finally looked down at where he reached to Martin and briefly wondered what Elias’ strategy was in hiring a head archivist who lacked a brain.Turns out that Jon hadn’t settled for just a hand resting on the arm, oh no, instead he opted for taking Martin’s hand in his. So there they stood in Jon’s office. Holding hands. Jon wondered what the odds of lighting striking him were while standing in a basement.

“O...kay.. Um, do you think you maybe need to sit down again?” Jon would have liked to be irritated at the way Martin was speaking to him as though he was an elderly particularly off their rocker, but he had to admit that the rapid string of events has done quite a number on his composure, so he conceded and moved back to sit down. “Uh, J-Jon?” 

“Hm? Oh-” Realizing that his hand was still gripping Martin’s, Jon finally pulled his hand away and sat down. Martin let him settle down for a moment before grabbing another chair and pulling it to his side to sit by Jon.

“...Right. Now,can I ask what’s actually going on, Jon? Because even before what happened today you've still acted odd when I would touch you, but I had just kinda shrugged it off before, thought it was just you being you, I guess. But seriously, if it makes you uncomfortable I’ll gladly stop! You just need to tell me.”

 “Martin, I can assure you that how I have reacted has not been because of you specifically,” He hoped Martin couldn’t tell how bad of a liar he was, “I apologize for worrying you, but you don’t have to change how you interact with me. I-i don’t mind.”

Martin stared at Jon while the words sunk in before he tentatively reached his hand out and placed it gently (always so gently) on Jon’s arm. “So. is this, okay?” Jon once again stilled and did his best to sound sure but not too eager.

“Yes.”

“A-and...this?” Martin’s other arm reached out to rest on Jon’s other arm as well, mirroring the touch from earlier. “This is okay too?” His eyes were locked onto Jon’s, face in an intense yet unreadable expression. Jon felt his own hands moving of their own accord to lay on Martin’s arms, only trusting himself to nod as they stared into each other’s eyes. Jon’s brain was already frazzled at this point but he could have almost sworn that the space between their faces was shrinking and inching together, closer, closer…

“-Hey Jon if you’re done being weird I finished the follow-up on the goldfish statement if you w- uuuuuhhhhh…” Tim’s voice rang loud and clear as he barged in but quickly stopped short at the sight in front of him. The two flinched away from each other instantly, Jon smacking his elbow on the desk and Martin nearly knocking off the contents resting on top of it.

“CHRIST Tim!! Knock! Please!!” Martin squawked, face turning bright red that, combined with his freckles, made him look like a rather embarrassed strawberry. Jon was caught between glowering at Tim and avoiding eye contact with him at all, still rubbing his sore elbow. Tim’s face on the other hand was transitioning from bewilderment to an unreasonably cheeky grin while he caught on to the situation.

“My, my! So sorry to interrupt the newlyweds, how ever rude of me!” If Tim’s smile got any wider it could have been statement worthy. “Come to think of it, I just remembered some important case notes I want to check over with Sasha, it’s very important she hears it. Well then, I’ll just leave you two to it then, eh?” And with a dramatic wink, Tim left almost as quickly as he entered. Jon and Martin stared at the office door for a few moments waiting for their heart rates to settle when Martin broke the silence.

“I should uh, go out and check on them before they get too loud about it.”

“Right…”

Martin looked back to Jon once more and, after a moment’s hesitation, quickly grabbed Jon by the hand and gave a light squeeze, offering a shy smile before quickly heading out of the office.

 Jon, left staring slack-jawed at the door once more, decided what his next move as Head Archivist would be; dig out his phone and earbuds, pull up an ancient playlist, lay on the floor and maybe think a little too much about hands and warmth. 

[humanmosquito]

this is definitely gonna be a ramble-y post but i’ll neaten it when i’m done. (edit:  didn’t really but I’m sick of this sitting here already)

I’ve put this under a cut for obvious reasons. There’s more things I didn’t like about this book but I forgot most of the plot immediately after reading it.

Given the usual time skips in Clare’s work you’d think this would be 6 months down the line and Livvy would have been completely forgotten about and is mentioned sporadically to motivate the main characters. 

I’m not really buying the shock of Livvy’s sudden death i would say Clare’s done a job here and she’s certainly tried, but i’m not buying it.

Her treatment of Gay Characters (capitalisation necessary) is bad but so much worse with Alec than any others and i hate reading about her Alec bc of the way she infantilises him. Also has Clare seriously not found any way to solve problems in her own fictional universe without constantly reintroducing the same guy??? (who is also just a bunch of stereotypes of queer men) (Magnus)

you don’t need to use two separate images to describe people moving in the background, it’s fine.

why is Christina using Spanish pet names when we’ve never seen her using Spanish conversationally before? also, ( and this is a very specific thing to to be so worked up about like 4 years after i read it the first time) but why do whatshisname and Christina have to talk in English instead of implying the conversation was in Spanish but had been translated or even mention it at all? (okay, coming back in later to say that she does use Spanish randomly in this book, Clare has a habit of making Latine characters use Spanish randomly to show they’re Latine.

isn’t Mark 20 or something? I’m legitimately confused about these lines.

there’s no need to suddenly start using fancier language for two whole sentences. also you can just say she visited a wax museum or even Just Madame Tussaud’s (which i’m guessing is the place we’re talking about). also: why is all the dialogue in this book so stiff and overly formal? I know they’re in shock and some of them are functionally strangers but it’s still so off from how people normally speak. (I’m willing to excuse the faerie characters because everyone who writes faeries makes them speak super flowery but that’s it)

there’s no break between Mark and Helen’s POV.

 I’m pretty sure than Simon is secular, why is he suddenly sprouting hebrew? (CC makes no effort to show him engaging with judaism in any form and has him Christmas shopping at one point in tmi)

wouldn’t that make it much easier to break in? (this is needlessly pedantic, I know)

A lot of people said that Emma just becomes a way to talk about how amazing Julian is and I’m beginning to see that. She focuses on the sound he makes walking along a hallway way too much. (Also: coming back a week later to add that Julian just gets worse and worse and for a character that we’re supposed to love(?), he has absolutely no redeeming qualities.)

Doesn’t witchlight only light up when a shadowhunter is holding it? I remember that from TID.

The rally with Dearborn feels like an attempt at the bit at the beginning of 1984 where they’re watching the propaganda video and the woman is crying out for big brother. also, there’s no way to write people chanting someone’s name that doesn’t make it feel like mediocre fanfiction, huh? The whole scene is very over the top and not at all like the actual process of radicalisation. 

who thinks like this? Who thinks about themself like this?

The descriptions of the shadowhunters at the funeral are weird. Emma is described as putting on gear then wearing a dress, Christina has a gear jacket over a dress and Ty is in full gear.

she’s not even being subtle about stealing plot points from the tv show, is she?

why does she keep choosing random words to translate into Spanish? It isn’t necessary unless the word also means a specfic type of that word. A vela isn’t a specific type of candle, that’s just the Spanish word for candle. 

Doesn’t Jonathon Shadowhunter creating runes go against tsc canon? No one could make new runes except Clary because of her extra angel blood. (I should know, I read the fucking Shadowhunter codex). (there are more instances of CC creating thing that go against canon but i kinda got bored of making this list after here)

(I know the answer to this one is just CC’s incest fetish but) Why did everybody just let Christina get engaged to her cousin?

I have to say that my suspension of disbelief lasted longer than I thought it would but it ends with Julian killing a Rider with a D&D figurine.

The whole Thule bit feels like it was copy-pasted from ao3 (While we’re on the subject of copied from ao3 “Ragnor Fell lives” is such a “saw it on Tumblr” cop out)

how did the cohort get Jaime? It’s not explained and I wish it was.

Julian sucks. capital-S Sucks. For the guy Emma is facing Losing her Shadowhunter life for and going into exile for, he’s a dick, with emotions he comes off as creepy, over-sexed and obsessed. Without he’s somehow even worse.

Zara calling Cl*ce disgusting and being called wrong for it is such an obvious dig at the people who criticised Clare when she wrote them nearly fucking in a ditch when they thought they were bio siblings. (I’m p sure they’re also adopted siblings and they consider the same man their dad, so it would still be incest.) 

Also, she’s so one-dimensional and every scene with her, especially in the last 1/2 of the book was exactly the same. (emma attacks her but decides to let her go which was a ~mistake~ with consequences (consequences being “we see Zara again”))

It's not even a subtle D*mbl*dore's Army rip-off, huh?

I take back all the things I thought about Clare improving as a writer, chapter 33 makes literally no sense, also cannot do dialogue or consistent characterisation. (how did any of these get published, TMI especially)

Once again, Clare seems to be stealing plot points from the TV show. (Of course there’s going to be some overlap between the show and books even after it diverged from book canon but it’s getting pretty ridiculous at this point, isn’t it?). 

Okay, every woc in this book is here to further the white protagonists’ story (which i guess is the purpose of supporting characters but the white supporting characters do fuck all) And i get they have their own love interests but it was super forced (don’t @ me for this, Kierarktina had potential but it was all rushed in the second half of this book because Clare realised what a cash cow it was)

Diana gets a little tropey (Speaking as a trans person) but her treatment b Vlare and the other characters was okay. I do wish she was allowed more personality than “no one can love me or know me because I’m trans” (it’s stupid and overused) and “helps the Blackthorns and Emma”. (also Clare knows that you don’t stop taking HRT, right? it isn’t a limited course, it’s not Gender-Changing Antibiotics.)

My final thing is that it went on way too long, like, insufferably long. (you’d think long enough to explain some plot holes, but no.)

[ithehellisbucky]

Purple Velvet

Loki x Reader

Requested by: The Fifth Marauder

Word Count: 3,480

Warnings: Happy Loki

Author’s Note: I swear I’m going to stop writing fics about the beginning of relationships. I swear I’m going to start writing different fucking stuff. 

When it comes to your dating history, you kind of struck out. All you'd dated were losers named Dave and their even shittier friends Jeff. (I'm not saying that all people named Jeff and Dave are shitty people because they're not, this Jeff and Dave just happened to be real assholes.)

But the moral of the whole Jeff and Dave fiasco (which included a stripper named Pearl, a smashed kiwi, and a kid named Eli who was way too old to be Dave's son.) But enough with the parenthesis, parenthesis tells the hidden emotions and energy of the story. This story tells a story of emotions and feelings, more than a usual story. So, either the whole story is in parenthesis, or none of it is.

When you met Loki you had no idea that a relationship with him was going to be any different from any of your previous. A seemingly cocky man with slicked-back hair was not exactly the most optimistic of reliable partners, but somehow you were attracted to him. Drawn to the tall man who was possibly wearing a cape in the whole foods checkout line was definitely something to cross off the bucket list.

It wasn't just whole foods, it was possibly every other grocery store in a three-block radius. Considering that three blocks in New York had at one time held four different Trader Joes you had met Loki plenty of times before you finally had a conversation.

It was a normal day and you had been stopping by Harris Teeter to pick up some lasagna and ice cream. While you were bending over to get a pint of Chunky Monkey Ice Cream you heard a voice from behind you. 

"Would you mind grabbing me a pint of rocky road?" The voice asks. It was the man from the Whole Foods checkout line. His voice sounded like purple velvet, not just velvet, but purple velvet. The way purple velvet looks and feels is the way his voice sounds. You may be dawdling too long on what his voice sounds like, but god was such a sexy voice.

"Yeah, sure." It was kind of a lame thing to say, but the only good response. What were you going to say instead, tell him that his voice sounded like purple velvet?

As you handed him the ice cream you quickly analyzed his features. His hair was brown, almost black, but still noticeably brown. He had blue eyes that were almost overshadowed by the shape of his eyes, but not in a bad way. He was wearing a black turtle-neck sweater that was rolled up around his wrists, not because his sleeves were too long, but as a fashion statement.

He stared at you in a pensive manner, but not in a creepy way, in a curious and polite way. He didn't say thank you and you weren't offended, he seemed far too involved in this silent conversation to engage in a verbal one.

After staring at each other for a solid 7 seconds he broke the gaze and said a simple: "have a nice day." Before turning his back, tossing the ice cream into his basket and walking away.

You weren't flustered, by any means; the only word you could think to describe the interaction was interesting. You were deeply and intensely interested in whatever world this man was living in that appeared to be much different from your own.

"You too" you exclaimed in a manner not too different from his, a subtle plea for a reunification, possibly at Food Lion, or wherever had the best deal on tomato soup.

~

As the story goes, you two met again, in Ikea of all places. You were casually walking through the store, looking for a new nightstand after it had an unfortunate accident after you read the ending of The Time Traveler's Wife. All of a sudden you heard muffled grunting noises as you were passing rows of couches. 

Like any sane person would, you leaned back into the row to see Purple Velvet trying to pick up a couch.

"Um... Excuse me? Are you okay?" You ask, walking toward the tall man who appeared to be sweating.

"Yes, I'm fine." He exclaims, standing up and brushing off his knees. "I just need to get something from under the couch."

"Would you, uh, like some help?" You respond.

"It's alright, I can do it on my own." He replies. He bends over again and starts lifting up the couch for a second time.

For some reason, you didn't walk away. It was probably because you knew he needed help, it was also possibly because he had killer back muscles.

"It looks like you need help." You exclaim, ready to help him out with the herculean feat of lifting up a couch.

"No, I'm good." He grunts out.

After about 20 more seconds of pointless grunting, he finally gives up. "Are you still offering me that help?" He asks.

"Sure, what do you need help with?" You answer, putting down your basket and kneeling down be eye to eye- or at least as close as possible considering your height difference.

"I can lift up the couch, but I can't reach far enough to grab the earring." 

"Earring?" You ask quizzically, it was really none of your business. It was just that  Purple Velvet was lifting up a couch in Ikea to get an earring, and everything about that sentence made you desperately curious.

"Yes, that's the object that I dropped under the couch." He replies calmly.

"Well, that gives me absolutely zero information." You casually respond, a slight smile forming on your face.

He grunts a little, almost like he wanted to chuckle but something stopped him. It honestly sounded more like a snort, but this man doesn’t seem like a person who you say “snorted”.

"When I pick up the couch, can you grab the earring?" He asks. 

He picks up one side of the couch, so it's leaning in an acute angle. You lie on the floor and reach under the couch to try and grab the earring. "What does it look like?" You ask. "There's a lot of shit under this couch, and I want to make sure to grab the one thing that not's shit."

"It's green, and is the type of earring that hangs down." He grunts out. "It’s an emerald color."

"Okay, thanks." You respond, reaching even further under the couch to grab something that appears to have a greenish tinge. 

When you touch that item it's gum you let out a loud ew and continue to reach under the couch. After searching around for another minute or so you grab an object that is smooth on one side and pointy on the other. You look closely, and it indeed appears to be an earring.

"Got it!" You shout.

You slither up from underneath the couch and hand Purple Velvet the earring.

He hesitates for a moment before saying anything. You almost expect him to say nothing before he lets out a quiet thank you.

"You are so very welcome." You announce, letting your positive attitude show.

You get up and begin to walk away, then Purple Velvet sets down the couch and walks over to you; "This may sound kind of weird, but I was wondering if you would like to possibly get something to eat. Together, I mean. At a place other than Harris Teeter."

His demeanor was desperately trying to cover up the anxiety in his voice. He straightens his back and looks at you with misplaced authority. The story happening out loud was far different from the one happening between the two of you, in body language, and in the emotions flashing on your eyes.

The true story going on is that Purple Velvet was asking you out on a date. In a very awkward way that seemed entirely off-brand for someone with his kind of attitude. He seemed shy and was anxiously attempting to hide it. 

“That sounds great, where do you want to go eat?” You answer.

"I saw this Italian place a couple of blocks from here, I believe it's called Mateo's?" He responds, a civil look returning to his features.

"Eh... That made be a problem." You exclaim, a puzzled look forming on Purple Velvet's face, god his voice is so sexy... "Mateo and I have a small food, I dated one of his waiters and after we broke up the waiter spit in my food. Mateo didn't believe me, so here we are. Banned from the best Italian Restaurants in all of New York City. Well not if you consider pizza"

Purple Velvet's face droops, and your absolutely positive the first thing on his mid in skepticism.

"But don't worry! I know another really good place nearby here." You nearly shout, but then you stop. You don’t want him to hate you before he even gets to know you.~

You lead Purple Velvet out of Ikea and onto the street to your left. The two of you keep on walking for about 3 blocks before turning left again and walking into a much dingier road, that could possibly be called an “alley”. You walk for about one more block before stopping at the place to your right.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you." You exclaim jokingly.

Purple Velvet calmly responds with: "I'm not so sure about that," before walking into the structure.

Inside of the building, there's a stairwell leading to the restaurant but to the untrained eye, it could just seem like it was some creepy place that shady businesses could casually murder people in.

"Oh my god, I completely forgot how scary this place looks if you haven't been before. Um... We don't have to eat here, I know a lot more..." You hesitate. “Pleasant place a couple of blocks from this, um, place." You gulp loudly, fear instilled in your heart by the looming threat of rejection.

Instead of running for the hills and being terrified of the eerie place you brought him to, Purple Velvet just laughs. "It's quite alright, I read the sign outside and I saw some people eating in the window; I am more concerned with the quality of the food than any other harm happening to me." He pauses for the moment and then tilts his head and looks at you from the side of his eye. "Unless you possibly know anyone by the name of Thor or Bruce."

"No Bruce." You exclaim. "Unless you count the one that does my dry cleaning."

He chuckles and then gestures up the stairs. 

Once you reach the top of the stairs the door is on your right, and once you step in your senses explode. You step into a brick room with posters from the 1940s all over the walls. The smell of tomato sauce drifted into your nose and the loud sounds of the kitchen filtered into the room where the seating was located.

Purple Velvets' eyes lit up, even though he didn’t make any noise. A smidge of a smile began on his face before twisting downwards to form his usual neutral expression.

"Should we wait to be seated?" Purple Velvet asks. 

"Nah, once Tammie sees I'm here she'll make my usual and then we can start eating." 

"Well, then what is your usual?" He asks, sitting in the seat by the window that you led him too.

"Medium-large pizza half, pineapple on one half and the other half without." You exclaim without a moment's hesitation, not finding it weird at all that you had not only memorized your order but had every single word and the order they were in memorized.

"Pineapple?" He pauses as his face scrunches up. "On a pizza?"

You laugh loudly, reacting to his distress. "Yes, on a pizza. Have you never tried it before?" You ask in genuine curiosity. 

"No, I've never even heard of it." Purple Velvet responds with a light chuckle.

"I'm going to guess and say you're not from New York, or America at that." You exclaim, eagerly awaiting a response.

"No, I believe I'm from Norway." He responds, confusion flashing over his face for a few seconds.

"You believe?" You ask quizzically, wondering how this adult could have no idea where he was from.

"I was adopted when I was a baby." He answers calmly as if it was an everyday occurrence to tell people life details on the first day... And from the way, this man acted it may be. "I grew up in Norway, I’m not sure exactly where, but I could have also been born in Denmark or Sweden."

You were about to interject with a statement about how hard that must be when Tammie comes walking up to you. Tammie was your nemesis from high school, and then you woke up one day and realized your whole feud was pointless. Besides, who gives a shit about shitty Danny Mueller in the first place. Also, her pasta sauce is way too good not to be friends with. And, one bowl of pasta sauce and pitcher of lemonade thrown at Danny, you were best friends. Forever.

Tammie sets down the pizza on the table and almost starts talking to you when she notices Purple Velvet. "Excuse me, care to introduce your, uh... Friend?" She says raising her eyebrows at you. 

"This is P-" You stop yourself from saying Purple Velvet and then you realize you never caught his name. "Remind me again, what's your name?" You ask, must to Tammie's disappointment.

"Loki." He exclaims, with his usually calm expression.

"Last name?" Tammie responds, her skepticism clear.

"Tammie." You say sternly.

"What, I'm just making sure that he's not a famous serial killer." She responds, trying to feign innocence.

"It's quite alright," Pur- Loki answers, a smirk forming on his face. "My full name is Loki Laufeyso-" he pauses, looks down, then regains himself "Loki Laufey."

"Okay, Lowkey Laughy." She responds, her eyebrows still raised.

"See, not a serial killer." You exclaim, gesturing at Loki.

"Maybe not a famous one.” You glare at her. “You're telling me that a man who let you take him down a dark alleyway to go into a shady building and up the stairs, isn't the least bit weird." 

"Farewell." You say to Tammie.

"M'kay." She exclaims, then points at Loki "If you kill her, I will kill you. And I'll get away with it too."

"I genuinely apologize for her." You exclaim, slightly embarrassed for her behavior... But not really, can't blame a girl for being cautious.

"No need." He exclaims as he picks up a piece of the pineapple pizza. As soon as he takes a bite of the pizza his eyes light up, and within seconds the slice is gone. "This is delicious." He exclaims, smiling, the first real smile you've ever seen on his face.

"You either love it, or you hate." You respond with a giggle.

"Well, I love it. I definitely love it." Loki is beaming as he grabs another slice. You hear something he mutters under his breath and it sounds something like: "For the fah-"

You two sit in silence, slurping down pizza. The beauty of silence is real. "What's your favorite color." You ask. He looks at you in confusion. "I mean I really don't know anything about you, and you've got to start somewhere." You exclaim even though you feel like you know everything about him.

"Green." He says. 

"Why?" You ask inquisitively.

"No one's ever asked me why before." He responds, his eyes are curious, and the mood makes you feel like you can see into his soul is as well.

"And I've never asked anybody why before." You respond, taking a bite of your pizza before looking at Loki with a comprehensive look on your face.

Loki is about to say something else before a waiter brings two glasses of water to the table. You thank him quietly and Loki simply takes a sip of his water.

"So... Why do you like the color green?" You ask him for a second time.

"I don't know he responds." He stops and ponders the question for a minute. "The mysterious aspect." He finally exclaims.

"Green is the color of plants, plants cover everything." He continues, looking out the window. "But you never really look that hard at them, unless they're beautiful." He turns back around to face you, to stare into your eyes with intensity. "But they can do anything. Cover skyscrapers, hide secret passages, they can kill you."

He pauses, and you notice that at some point you began to hold each other's hands. "They can also save you."

"What's your favorite color." He counters, dropping your hand to grab another slice of pizza.

"Purple." You say through a mouthful of pizza.

"Why?" He says, repeating the question that you had asked just minutes before. 

"Because everyone thinks that it's all fun and light until they realize how intense it can be. Purple can be intense and fun. And you shouldn't judge purple because it's pretty no matter the shade or the place it's put. It may not look pretty, but once you look closely you realize it's amazing."

Loki's nickname was Purple Velvet for a reason.

"I think our favorite colors have more to do than just colors," Loki exclaims, the darkness in his eyes far overshadowed by the light.

"Seems like it." You respond as you beam, your smile lighting up the room.

The two of you enjoy each other's company for at least another 2 hours, you couldn' tell. All you knew was that the sun had faded into twilight and that Loki's eyes were so goddamn gorgeous (and his voice was so sexy). Long after the pizza was gone, and hours after Tammie's shift had ended, the two of you were still sitting in the brick restaurant.

As the sunset is beginning in the sky you realize that you should probably head out. "As much as I want this to go on forever I just realized that it's getting kind of late, and I forgot to tell my brother I was on a date." Loki looks at you, a brief look of panic crossing his eyes. "As long as this is a date."

"We've been talking for- You trail off, looking down at your phone. "Ah, four and a half hours." You say, kind of shocked. "Time sure flies when you're having fun." You exclaim with a chuckle.

You keep on talking as you walk down the stairs and as you guide him to your building. "Well, this is my apartment." You exclaim, wishing this wasn't the end of your date. "What's your phone number?" You exclaim. Loki gives you his number, and you tell him yours.

After that exchange, you realize that the two of you are standing in complete silence. It feels comfortable with him, just with him. Nothing else.

As you stare deep into his eyes you realize that you are leaning towards his face.

Loki puts his hands on your jaw, cradling your face. His hand isn’t exactly warm, but it’s still comforting. You move your lips towards his and feel the electricity flowing between the two of you when they connect. Your bodies melt perfectly together as your lips combine. One of Loki's arms wraps around your waist as the other continues to caress your face. Your arms drape around Loki's neck, pulling you closer to his body. You feel like a puzzle piece. A puzzle piece in a two-piece puzzle. A puzzle that has finally been completed.

You pull away after what seems like hours, after what has possibly been hours. Your mouths pull away from each other, desperate for breath. You stand outside your building for another minute, feeling his breath on your face. The sun goes down on you two's embrace as you kiss for a second time, and then a third. A fourth.

After you kiss for the fourth time you stop and lean against each other. You stare into his eyes as he holds you to his chest as he drops his other hand to your waist. You move your arms from his neck to around his body, clutching him close to you.

"My name is (y/n)." You breathe out, breaking the perfect silence and replacing it with perfect noise. 

"What?" He responds, looking down at your face in pure bliss, even though his mouth didn't form a smile.

"With all the chaos going on I forgot to tell you my name." You exclaim with a giggle.

"I would hardly call it chaos, it was the exact opposite. Happiness."

You smile and go to kiss him again. Once you pull apart you look up again at his face.

He was smiling.

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

Young Justice:

[ghostmartyr]

Hi Immi. I'm new to the fandom--joined around the drop of ch107. Since then there's been a big buzz about historia, regarding her sexuality, her character regressing and her relationship with ymir. i'd seen snk s2 and honestly never occurred to me to ship yumikuri because i hate ships but being on tumblr, well, it's everywhere. I see people get hate on shipping her with males but i'm not sure where i stand. Is she explicitly lesbian? If not then why is it so bad? Is the tumblr fandom just toxic?

Hi.

Uh.

Hell, dude, you pretty much summarized all the reasons I stopped checking the tags. I’m not exactly in the fandom anymore. I do my stuff, but I am actively avoiding mostly everyone, and that’s just because of the immediate aftermath of the chapter. So uh, welcome, I guess, I’m not here.

I answered–well. No, I covered a bit of what I’m going to go over here in my chapter post, aka the unfun section of it. Making this a bit of a rehash, but most things I type are anyway.

The most obvious thing is that people should not be getting hate. That is a general statement, disconnected from anything that’s going on. It is applicable in every fandom, in every situation. Even in the cases where someone is doing something that poses a very real danger, the solution is not sending hate. Sending hate is exactly what it sounds like, and people should behave themselves better.

Where you end up standing on any of this does not make the behavior magically okay.

And again, I basically left the fandom. I have no idea what’s going on, and frankly, I do not want to, so none of this is based on anything that’s happened in the past three weeks.

My perspective on fiction is that it is entirely selfish. People want what they want from it. While I don’t like most of what other people like, the fact that they’re capable of enjoying things should be celebrated. Go them.

That doesn’t mean I think stories are beyond reproach, or what happens in fiction can’t be offensive or damaging.

Fandom is not the same as canon. A personal pet project is very different from something being consumed by millions of people. Fandom currently has a very black and white style of thinking, and so it neglects that difference.

For an easy and relevant example, Kurt and Rachel from Glee getting it on in a fanfic is not equal to it happening in the show. One is someone’s random fantasy, the other, unless it’s handled with the kind of respect Glee has never dealt in, is going to be very inflammatory.

(See: Blaine and Rachel (for different–-but still relevant!-–reasons))

A lot of people do not agree that the difference between fanon and canon is relevant to some of the things people end up enjoying. The reason being that stories never feel that different to the individual experiencing them. Who creates it, or how wide its reach is, is not automatically something that matters to the emotional experience. It will hurt in roughly the same way, so often the argument that one is excusable and the other isn’t is done before it starts.

I’m meandering a little because I do not really know how to handle this delicately. So far this is all just foundational. stuff.

I guess I’ll go with blunt.

yumikuri is a canon romantic bond. Ymir is implied to be a lesbian because one character says she looks like one, Historia is a complete blank slate outside of that relationship because Ymir is her sole love interest.

The status of Historia’s sexuality is that she is romantically interested in Ymir, a girl. That is the entire sum of what the manga’s covered.

107 heavily indicates that Historia is coerced into having sex.

That should never have opened up a discussion into what her sexuality is. Someone being forced into sexual intercourse is indicative of nothing except that they are being forced into it. That is the exact opposite of desire.

Yet it opened the door to people reminding everyone that it is absolutely okay for a character to be bisexual.

That is a true statement.

(Editing in emphasis, because it really is.)

I do not know how to adequately describe why the context makes that statement so tone deaf and infuriating.

The manga has been running for almost ten years. In that time, there has been no indication of Historia having interest in anyone outside of Ymir, a girl. That could cover a lot of different sexualities, and there’s nothing wrong with someone wanting any of them.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t incredibly insulting ways of going about introducing them.

Historia’s first major appearance after her girlfriend is killed off-screen (if you believe that, which all but three people reading this and the person writing this do) is all about forcing her to fuck a guy to make babies.

Even in some hypothetical where her pregnancy is the result of a happy relationship, it would be insulting. As far as we know, it isn’t, so we are dealing with the full brunt of how disrespectful that summation is.

There is this common thing that happens in stories, where you have the gay relationship, one dies, the other lives on to go have a happy life with someone of the opposite sex. The subtext is that this weird one-off sexual thing may have happened, but don’t worry, they’re still normal.

I don’t know how to say that convincingly, because it’s a subtext that I’ve picked up on throughout hundreds of different stories. I don’t know how to cram that history into one post.

Girls liking girls is seen as an aberration, even in stories about liking girls. The relationship will be an exception. The more femme character won’t really like girls, just this one. The concept of a girl liking another girl as a normal facet of her sexuality, which exists outside this relationship, is commonly disregarded, or given to the non-POV partner.

This should be a problem that it’s easy to agree on. Lesbians like girls as a rule. Bisexuals like girls as a rule. Not exclusively, but Likes Girls is still very much a part of the identity (unless we get into discussions of bi covering multiple genders but not necessarily binary ones).

Then there’s fandom.

I can’t count the number of times I have seen the argument that Historia only sees Ymir as a friend. I have been invested in her character and that relationship for five years. Barring the last month, which I don’t want to know about, probably at least once a week, someone would make the case that okay, maybe Ymir likes Historia, but Historia doesn’t like her back.

Many, many times before I left the tags last month, people were saying that Historia’s pregnancy isn’t an LGBT issue, because Historia’s interest in Ymir was never canon.

I get twitchy when people are staunch supporters of her being bisexual. Because as much as I want to trust people, and as much as I know that every marginalized identity is desperate for scraps, the conversation about Historia has always felt like, “it’s important to remember you can’t prove she doesn’t like men.”

When it’s not full on, “it’s important to remember her liking a girl is in your imagination.”

Because she’s the pretty one in the girl on girl couple.

I want her to be gay or ace. Nothing disproves that, but I feel like an idiot for wanting that, because the classically pretty one isn’t going to be a lesbian, and years of consuming anime and manga should have taught me that. Beyond the first sentence, none of that perspective is particularly healthy.

Queer fandom can be really complicated to navigate, because some of the things people want to see–-which are fundamental to their identities, and that’s why they want to see them–-run exactly counter to what other people want to see.

There’s a post from Yuri on Ice fandom that I think encapsulates this. I don’t know the background, or what has been shouted back and forth since I saw it, but here’s the gist. Someone suggests that one of the figure skating gays could be ace. Dozens of people go, “bad post op,” and it’s treated humorously.

Asexual representation sucks. An episode of House, noteworthy for using the word and having someone quote the statistic occurrence of asexuality, ends with one half of an asexual couple having a hormone imbalance, and the other lying about her interest in sex so she could date him.

Yeah.

Gay guys also have a hard time with their sexuality being policed. Holding hands is okay (sometimes), but kissing? Sex? The dirty homosexuals are depraved for enjoying such things. Gay women can have degrading sex because it’s hot.

People want their identities respected.

That is not an unreasonable thing.

What tends to happen on Tumblr is that people forget that they aren’t the only ones being treated like crap. There are layers of pain and anger they bring to every fight, and over and over again, people who should know what that pain is like, and help each other through it, sharpen theirs until they can use it to chop off someone’s head.

107 is insulting in a lot of ways. The aftermath was worse for me. From what little I saw, many people were very eager to say that the part where a queer woman was dealing with a coercive pregnancy shouldn’t be judged for the queer part. Because there are people issues, like war and tragedy, and then social justice issues, which aren’t about people. They don’t really matter in a war story with internment camps and genocide.

I’m being glib, but… that’s what it felt like. That’s what a lot of people I liked shrugged and agreed with.

I want Historia to be a lesbian (or ace), but for right now, we do know she’s queer. That is a part of her character, and it is one that people have been talking over for years. Having post after post reminding everyone that her being queer does not matter to the story? That her being queer is not a lens worthy of being looked through when it’s clearly not about that?

I don’t agree with… basically any of the fandom behavior I’ve seen touching this. I think people should behave themselves better, and treat each other more kindly, and pain is no excuse for bleeding all over everyone.

But where that pain comes from has been repeatedly dismissed, and where it comes from is not insignificant, no matter what route you want canon to go.

…And as far as Historia’s character goes, this is a regression, and the writing should be ashamed of itself. It violates the themes of her arc with such direct intent that it’s painfully easy to believe there’s a twist to it, but for now it’s just infuriating, because the girl who fights fate has been made its tool, and Ymir, aka her love interest, is very relevant to the whole arc where we covered this. 107 is bad and should feel bad, and I am extremely not happy that I think that is exactly the feeling I am intended to have, because being emotionally manipulated is much more annoying when it works.

Hopefully that gives your questions an answer.

[scriptatur]

(Demi)love

Soo, it’s @27dragons birthday today and I thought I’d take this as an opportunity to share this... I did not really have the time to revise it and English is not my first language, so please excuse any mistakes or weird wordings...  @27dragons I wish you all the best for your birthday and I hope you have a good one! This is for you :)

Tony Stark had long ago stopped believing in love. Or at least he didn’t believe in the kind of love the media told him should exist. The mushy, romantic stuff that never felt quite right, never actually felt good, just- like a obligation somehow, like going through the moves without bothering to pay attention. Because it didn’t feel real, it didn’t feel like this was something that should actually feel good. So, he stopped believing in love. Because it was easier. It was easier to spend his time with one night stands, or even alone, instead of being reminded how it was never enough. He hadn’t been enough for Pepper. He’d tried, oh how he had tried, but the bunny incident was just one of the many examples of his failure so at one point he just- stopped. He joked, tried to find a way out, saying he was just bad at gifts, bad at romance. But maybe, maybe he was just bad at love. Maybe that wasn’t something he could feel, or deserve. Because if what he felt for Pepper, what Pepper felt for him, wasn’t enough, then he was sure that nothing would ever be.

Tony Stark had long ago stopped believing in love, which was why he was so surprised by the sudden butterflies in his stomach, that he almost dropped his coffee.

“You okay there, Tony?” Steve asked and Tony nodded, dumbly, because what else could he do. He didn’t understand what was going on, was he going into cardiac arrest? But no, JARVIS was monitoring his vitals all the time, this couldn’t be. But it didn’t feel like a panic attack either, it felt- good? What the fuck?

“Tony, you’re looking kinda pale here,” Steve said, taking the cup of coffee out of his hand and putting it down. What the hell was wrong with him? Nobody was allowed to take his coffee away, and yet the fluttering in his stomach only grew stronger as Steve touched him and he caught himself thinking that he would gladly forgo coffee for the rest of his life, if only Steve would not stop looking at him like that, touching him and okay, something was definitely wrong here!

But then he realised that the feeling wasn’t actually that new, somehow. Just stronger, more pointed. But the way his stomach was all fluttery and his knees all weak, the way he wanted to smile and to lean in and-

“Holy shit, is that what love feels like?!”

In retrospective, he realised that this had maybe not been the best idea. Steve froze, staring at him and nope, this was not gonna happen. He abandoned his coffee and fled the scene, or at least that was what he tried to do. Because Steve was of course quicker and stopped him before he could even make it out of the kitchen.

“Tony, wait-“ They both stood there suddenly, starring at each other, neither saying a word, just- yeah, fluttery feelings all over again.

“Did you-“ mean that, maybe? Tony wasn’t sure what Steve was thinking, because he mainly looked surprised, but also maybe a little hopeful? Did that make sense?

“Did you never fall in love before? I mean-“ He blushed, which made the fluttery feelings come back even stronger and okay, this was getting kinda annoying.

“I don’t- I don’t know.” Steve was slowly guiding him back into the kitchen and onto a chair, which was maybe a good idea. He also got his coffee back, so- yay.

“Do you- I mean, you don’t have to tell me of course, if you don’t want to, but…” Steve hesitated, breathed in, breathed out. That seemed like a good idea, Tony realised and let the breath he was still holding go. Ugh, why did that have to happen now?

“What makes you say so?” Steve finally asked.

“What makes me say what?”

“That you’re not sure you’ve ever been in love.” And somehow Steve made the question sound easy, as if it was normal. As if people didn’t fall in love all the time. People on the wrong side of forty to be precise. But the way Steve looked at him, all earnest and open, not judging, not laughing, made Tony want to answer. That and the way he imagined Steve’s smile would be, if he didn’t run away. If he faced this, because Captain America was all about facing your problems and fears head first. Or fist first, most of the times actually.

“I’m not sure… I just- this feels different.” It was dangerous, and probably incredibly stupid to talk to Steve, of all people, about this. Tony was sure that if he did open up, even a bit (or at least a bit more than he already had, assuming it wasn’t already too late), then Steve would surly realise. Would work out that it was him Tony was talking about. But at the same time, he couldn’t really not answer. Captain America’s puppy eyes should definitely be categorised as lethal weapon.

“Different how?”

“I- weaker?” But no, that was not it. It was different, it was something he had never felt before. The closes comparison he could think of was-

“It feels like flying, now. It never felt that way before.”

“Flying?”

“Yeah. Like flying with the armour.” That for some reason, made Steve smile and Tony was so fucked, because there was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep him smiling, to have that smile directed at him.

“Yeah, that does sound like falling in love… Did you ever have a crush?”

“A crush? Isn’t that just-“ He broke off, not really knowing how to finish that sentence. But Steve was clearly waiting for something, for him to finish probably. “Isn’t that just something that happens in books, or movies or something?” Tony finally asked and he didn’t even finish the sentence before he regretted it. He had always known something was wrong with him, why did he have to go and ruin everything by voicing it now? But Steve still didn’t look like he was judging him, still didn’t laugh. He smiled, a bit sadly maybe, but still a smile.

“Yeah, for some people it is,” he said, stunning Tony into silence. Or as close to silence Tony Stark could actually come.

“I- what?” He knew he was starring, he knew he should get up, go, make a joke and disappear into the workshop and ideally never come up again, because this was just- it was just too much, all of it. But- “What?”

“Some people never have crushes, Tony. Some people never fall in love, or never want to have a relationship – of sex actually. Is that something you want? Something you enjoy?”

And okay, now Tony was blushing again. That was not supposed to happen anymore. But really, he didn’t think he should be the one to be blamed here.

“Yes?”

“Are you telling me or asking?” Steve wanted to know, smirking gently.

“Telling. I mean, I like sex.”

“But you never had crushes?”

“I guess- no?”

“Hm… Would you say that what you’re feeling now is a crush?”

“I don’t know… It- no? But not- I don’t know.”

“Maybe more than a crush?” Blushing again. Tony nodded, not really willing to answer that out loud. Steve smiled again, all proud now. Why was he proud?

“You might be demiromantic, then,” he said and kinda turned all of Tony’s world upside down.

“Demiwhat?” he whispered, not daring to speak any louder, afraid it would become real if he did. Or maybe afraid it would disappear, he wasn’t too sure which one actually.

“Demiromantic. That’s a word people use to describe the fact that they only feel romantic attraction to someone after they have established a strong emotional bond with that person. It’s on the aromantic spectrum.”

“But I’m bi…” Steve smiled.

“Sure. You can be bi and demi at the same time, there’s nothing wrong with that. Demiromantic just tell you how you experience attraction, not to what people you feel attracted to.”

“But that’s… Is that real?” Steve nodded, reaching out over the table to take Tony’s hand and only then he realised he was trembling.

“Yes, it’s real.”

“Do you…” He didn’t know how to ask, but because Steve was awesome, he didn’t have to.

“No. I’m pansexual and panromantic, but the people at SHIELD told me about all different kinds of orientations when I first woke up, so…”

Tony nodded slowly. That was- a lot.

“I need- I need to think about this…” he said slowly. Steve let go of his hand, but he was still smiling.

“Sure. Take all the time you need, Tony. Just- you’re not broken, okay? I need you to know that.”

“I- fuck Steve, how are you even real?” That had Steve laughing and at the same time there was a soft blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?” He didn’t know why he was asking, didn’t even know he was going to before he did, but Steve just smiled at him, blushed coming in stronger now and nodded.

“Yeah, I’d like that very much,” he said and then met Tony halfway. The kiss was soft and slow, barely there, but it was also everything that Tony didn’t realise he had been missing.

“Date,” Tony blurted as soon as they parted, “let me- I-“ He sighed, rolled his eyes at the way Steve was now definitely laughing at him – but now it didn’t bother him, so that was fine. “Let me take you on a date, was what I wanted to say,” he finally got out.

“Yes, please,” Steve said and the butterflies in Tony’s stomach were back at full force. So maybe, just maybe Tony Stark did believe in love after all.

Thanks for reading :) 

[awfullyhorriblybadfantrolls]

i know hell

i heard you liked cihuco ;) oh god

(this is super long because i get p i s s e d about a tenth of the way through about the misrepresentation and romanticization of mental illness so it’s under a cut. be wary of the discourse i’ve inevitably started)

-

When she wants she can become 2, both of her personalities taking a body. I realize she looks like a dude…she’s made to look like me…and since I look like a dude…yeah…you sound very uncertain about that The shirt symbols were tribal designs I found forever ago and tweaked slightly…i feel like that might be offensive and here’s what it says behind them.

Potens sidera pateris me Dilamino Mortem et Vulture Duae solae Duae aequalia Eodem sensu Duae corpora Iterum Which translates from Latin into Powerful stars allow me to Split in two Death and Vulture Two separate Two equal Same mind Two bodies Once again

i had my friend who’s learning latin translate this for me and he got

“My strong star father. I split death and the vulture in two [or “i’m split in two. death and the vulture] two alone two of the same a sense of purpose two bodies again”

he also added that it’s very badly translated and has no proper declension or cases and vulture isn’t a word in latin apparently

“they definitely used pateris when they shoulda used poddiderit”

-

you’re welcome hey also? there’s more. 

cihuco: i know i’m weird cihuco: i know my blood makes you sick cihuco: i know i’m not normal also cihuco: can you accept me for me now because i just told you all of my problems

Pesterchum name: bonesbloodSkullprotect excuse me

Typing Issue: uses txt tlk & symbols b/c she tends 2 tlk kinda fast, however if she’s perfectly calm she will spell things out completely unlike Morgan. she only capitalizes names & sometimes I’s…sometimes not. i don’t know why i hate this so much

Font Color: After finding a way to alternate between Fire Red and Water Blue water isn’t blue asshole she keeps it on so 1 sentence will be red, the next blue. However, if she’s really pissed it goes completely red and if somehow she’s completely and utterly calm it will go completely blue. i have more of an idea why i hate this so much but i do

Cimi (Death, Transformer, Worldbridger. 6th Mayan day sign) what

what is this in reference to

Symbol: skulls of any kind, so the design on her shirt changes constantly. usually the skull is White (which is the color of Death in Mayan astrology) and Red (which has come to symbolize Death now not really) Sometimes the skull will have a vulture on/near it. As the Vulture is the foe of Death, this presumably means she is her own greatest enemy. …that’s actually kind of cool

Mythological entity named for that’s a really specific category: Aztec goddess Cihuacoatl (Partly a fire goddess …….cihuacoatl was a motherhood and fertility goddess?)

and was associated with midwives and, uh, sweatbaths

and the Celtic goddess Acionna (Partly a water goddess) are you saying both goddesses are only partially affiliated with fire and water, respectively because cihuacoatl is not at all associated with fire as far as i know and acionna is only associated with water

Blood Color: Metallic Cyan…? Or…possibly between Cyan and Topaz…hard to tell when it turns to crystal not long after being (over) exposed to oxygen or any other chemicals in the air. what the fuck kind of blood Naturally the air born air born. born from the air chemicals effect how big and dark the crystals are. 

God Tier: Witch of Rage

Duel horns match her dueling personalities. duel horns. her horns fucking fight all the time. her personalities also duel. they engage in fisticuffs every other tuesday She’s Bipolar or Schizo…or both…i was gonna draw a reaction image but my tablet stopped working again so i’m just gonna have to settle for a firm “STOP. FUCK YOU”. also, i’m not really sure you understand what bipolar disorder or schizophrenia actually are. also also schizo is considered a slur because of the derogatory nature it’s used in. bye sweaty as such her personality changes instantly and usually without warning. i was right

listen up kids lemme give you a lil fuckin lesson on these two mental illnesses that are portrayed very very badly and overromanticized by this person:

“Bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks.” (nimh.nih.gov)

this does not mean someone with bipolar will “change personalities instantly”, it only dictates mood changes, so fuck you on that

symptoms of bipolar include: periods of unusually intense emotion, changes in sleep patterns, activity levels, as well as unusual behavior. these are called “mood episodes” and vary wildly from person to person.(manic episode) being very “jumpy” with increased activity levels, prone to agitation, risky behaviors, talking really fast about a bunch of different things and feeling as though they can do many things at once, (depressive episode) feeling dead inside, as if you’re heavy and have no energy to even move, perhaps at the same time empty and unfulfilled with no desire to do things you usually love, sleeping too much or too little, frequent thoughts about death/suicide and probably making plans about it

to quote myself, “bipolar […] only dictates mood changes, so fuck you on that”

let’s get to probably the most self-dx’ed and romanticized mental illness now

“Schizophrenia is a chronic and severe mental disorder that affects how a person thinks, feels, and behaves. People with schizophrenia may seem like they have lost touch with reality.”

where are you seeing personality change. i’m not seeing personality change. schizophrenia is, very over-simply, an inability to tell what’s real or not anymore.

symptoms of this disorder include: hallucinations, delusions, “flat effect” (reduced expression of emotions through facial expressions or tone of voice), reduced speaking and enjoyment in life, troubles focusing or paying attention or executive functioning (the ability to understand and use information to make decisions) or working memory (the ability to use that information immediately after learning it)

so ? honie ? where. literally where. i am abridging this but i guarantee i’m not purposefully leaving out “personality changes instantly and usually without warning”. you know why? 

because it’s not fucking there

what a surprise someone is romanticizing and at the same time not understanding and yet still undermining the struggles of mental illness

a little personal here but i’m friends with a girl who’s bipolar and buddy it’s not fun for her. her three moods are hypomanic, prepared for death, and panic attack. there is no personality change. only genuine struggle because mental illness isn’t pretty or a decoration for your self insert oc

bye sweaty,,,,,

Generally she can control the voices in her head inaccurate…………………, unless someone pisses her off. When she’s pissed off her eyes change from the normal (for her) golden with red spots to red swirls with icy blue as well. her pupils are actually dark blue. Because of this mutation, she usually wears super sweet red glasses with 3 points on each lens (most likely to represent 6, as in the sixth Day Sign). what does any of this mean in any capacity When she’s alone she argues with herself a lot, rather then keeping the voices bottled up…sometimes they’re her only company, after all… how fucking lonely do you have to be to argue with your voices jesus i almost feel bad now The only good thing about the dueling personalities is it allows her to control both water and fire. dueling personalities……………….

I suppose duel personalities may not be the right word no, it’s not. you mean dual personalities…as she it literally 2 different trolls stuck in one body…both Death and the Vulture live within her, Death being dominate. y tho She has the ability to seperate into both of these trolls for short times. HOW THO When she does Death becomes red, takes on the fire part of her powers, and uses only red psyonics psyonics in addition to taking the top horns and the red stripe in her hair. Vulture becomes blue, takes on the water, bottom horns, blue hair tips, and uses blue psyonics. It’s also worth saying her psyonic abilities are almost completely unusable to her just…in general. They generally show up without her knowing or control. “The only good thing about the dueling personalities is it allows her to control both water and fire.” …..???

She is incredibly good at video games, always coming just short of Sol when they play she gets points for not being BETTER THAN SOL XD SHE’S SOOOOO GOOD AT VIDEO GAMES but five points don’t help your current score of like -928374929871…there is one genera

“there’s one principle taxonomic category that ranks above species and below family, denoted by a capitalized latin name she’s better at though”

she’s better at though. She’s better at Horror games then he is because she is “very attune to death, whether it be real or virtual”. not all horror games have death also what does this even mean. i’m so confused She and Sol do a lot of gaming together and the main problem with her duality is that Vulture likes Eridan and Death like Sollux…however, seeing as Death is the main personality she get’s 1st pick…this has caused Vulture much annoyance and caused her to try taking over more often. uh

-extra info not needed-

Relations:

Aradia: BFFs do NOT bring my spooky wife into this. stay the FUCK away from my ghost girlfriend

Aaron and Morgan: Auspices between them. She describes them as constantly fighting as a serpent would with an eagle…they have no idea what she’s talking about. they’re dumb af have u ever seen an eagle pick up and consume a snake

Morgan: Good friend, as Death is the friend of the Serpent. i have no idea where you heard this but okay

Aaron: Good friend, as the Vulture is friends with the Eagle which she believes he would have been born under if he was born a troll. …there’s an eagle constellation? also vultures are friends with eagles? oh shit there actually is an eagle constellation it’s called aquila Her being good friends with both is why she’s also a good auspice. auspice would be a verb. the noun is auspistice

Jenny: Moirail

Vriska: probable Kismasis KISMASIS, the only thing they can agree on is they dislike the spider. since when did vriska dislike spiders

Other Humans: Takes to usually helping them randomly and with no warning ……….??????????

Other Trolls: Iffy, as they used to avoid her at all cost because of her mutation. However, because some of the others now are known to have mutations they don’t care as much. dude i’d fuckin care. her metallic blood makes me sick

Jaslusolo: a combination of jaculus (Snake)

and pervolo (to fly).

Her lusus, managed to escape just before the reckoning but couldn’t get to Cihuco in time to bring her as well. cihuco would’ve fuckin died?? if the reckoning wasn’t stopped the session would become null She is a feathered, winged serpent which resembles Cihuacoatl.

…..winged serpent who ?

With her help she is able to actually fly back in time what the fuck and to what she calls her “true home” on earth back with the Mayans. earth doesn’t exist yet bicht She speaks their language fluently as well, 

which one

and she is the one who told them of the end of the world. no, the mayan end of the world was predicted by the mayan calendar and the popol vuh, a compilation of the accounts of creation of the k’iche’ maya. the popul vuh states that the gods first created and failed at creating three worlds, then placed humanity in the first successful word. in the maya long count, the previous world had ended after 13 b’ak’tuns (around 5,125 years) and december 21st, 2012, was when the mayan date struck 13.0.0.0.0 which they believed to bring about the destruction of this world and the formation of a new one, this starting the cycle again. try again hunty 

Jansin Aciona: Dancestor, can’t stand her. yeah i can’t stand you either she’s named after Jowangsin, the Korean goddess of fire.

who

oh sorry do you mean jowangsHin, goddess of the kitchen?

She was relatively good friennds with Nivnaj…not as good as you’d expect though. She was Cronus’ matesprite. ok bye

The Poet: that is definitely not eight letters Ancestor, most likely deceased. Was matesprits with The Wisest. still not eight letters Aporev: Close friends

Strife Portfolio: X2Whipkind, X2Bladekind sure whatever

Fetch Modus Setting: Pictionary Advanced -The advanced just means she can draw what happens with what’s on the card and it happens. ughhhhhhhhhhhhh like if she wants it to shoot out and hit someone- then what. please do tell. the suspense is killing me

Age: 7.4 Alternian Solar Sweeps (16 earth years)

Planet: Land of Pulse and Haze (Original planet destroyed. Presumably she started in The Land of Tents and Mirth, which is associated with the Rage part, but liked LOPAH better so claims it as “Home”) THAT AIN’T YOURS BITCH PUT IT BACK

Name Breakdown (Troll) : “Acionna was a Gallo-Roman water goddess, attested in the Orléanais region.” -Wiki. which one Not much is known about the goddess other then she was most likely representative of water. This is where her last name came from. “In Aztec mythology, Cihuacoatl was one of a number of motherhood and fertility goddesses.” -Wiki …..if you knew this then…….y tho

Name Breakdown (Pesterchum) : Acionna was thought to be protection, Cihuacoatl supposedly helped make the current race from ancient bones and blood of Quetzalcoatl (Who mainly gets the credit). Skull is the symbol for death. The other reason the trolls avoided her was because she showed literally as [BS] which is what they thought she was full of are you saying she’s not? until Sollux started saying the same thing a long time after. Perhaps because the goddess she was named after, Cihuacoatl, she was not named for any goddess her name was incoherently gurgled out of her winged snake goddess-that’s-she’s-supposedly-named-after of a lusus supposedly created the current race…she had a stronger connection psychically to happenings…the problem is sorting what’s true and what’s not from the voices in her head.

Info on her Mutation: This is what happens when a troll falls in love with a local. love is love but this thing is disgusting don’t do it again It is unknown who exactly they were, as the blood is to diluted to guess who they could have possibly been. ????????? look i’m no med student but i’m at least 98% sure that’s not how blood works  This…sorda leads to say that it was mostly the local’s (whatever or whoever it was) blood taking over. wait i thought it was too diluted by……other blood, i guess?? what the fuck even is this It is probable, it seems, that one of them was able to wield fire and the other water, thus resulting in the duel personalities. why do i hate this sentence so much

Personality(s?) Qualities: Issues with anyone who tries to tell her what to do, she tends to sometimes contradict herself and speaks in riddles which are always hard to figure out except when they’re not and they’re easy. wow thanks had no idea She hosts qualities from both Death and Vulture, and they are as follows. Death is “open to ideas and willing to make sacrifices for the greater good…sensitive to endings of any kind, and it can be hard for (her) to accept losses. Practical, Oversensitive, Fragile.” While the Vulture is “very self-aware and concerned about (her) status in the world. (She) places a high value on life experiences, wanting to learn as much as possible from the triumphs and challenges they offer. (She) can appear a bit jaded and ruthless to others, but that is because (she) sees things as they are and thus tend to be cynical. (She) dislikes being judged, and if (she) feels under scrutiny (her) self-esteem takes a blow. Knowledgeable, Wise, Challenging, Jaded, Cynical.” -Horoscope.com oh my god

Rules Broken: all of them. all of them? every single one. not the naming rule though. but only for the troll herself. everyone else can go suck a dick

Fantroll Rating: look i started working on this blazing heap of trash at around 1915 now it’s 2058. what the fuck man

[trashy-greyjoy]

Hey! I don't mean this to sound rude, but I honestly don't see the sizzle reel being that bellarke centric (other than the 101 counting bellamy). I was wondering if you could go through your train of thought?

Not rude at all! I’d be happy to explain! I don’t write meta, if thats what this is, so just hang in there! This is what I personally got out of it. So basically the sizzle reel showcased a majority of the important moments in bellarke’s relationship development. I’d say you can actually split the moments between the narration from Madi and the clips we see. 

The voice over moments are aimed at viewers who know the story and will pick up on the little callbacks. While all the clips we actually see of Bellamy and Clarke are framed to imply an intimate or at the very least a close personal relationship. (this was the part that I when i said it looks romantic to people who haven’t seen the show). 

Narration (Spoken Lines)

“101 including Bellamy”: Clarke like immediately starts off by interrupting Madi’s story to make sure the girl didn’t forget to include her boy Bellamy. And it’s such an insignificant thing to pick out, the fact that she stops the story to correct it and make sure Madi includes Bellamy shows the audience that he’s important to her. 

It’s also important to note that Bellamy is the only character mentioned by name in the entire narration. That sticks him out as very important in flashing neon letters.

“So they did whatever the hell they wanted”: We all know that the phrase “whatever the hell we want” was Bellamy’s motto early in the show, it was exclusively his and we see a few characters call back to it after his development. Which means Madi including that phrasing is intentional and she knows about Bellamy being a little shit the first like week on the ground and Clarke told her. This is also a fairly insignificant moment in the grand scheme of the story for Madi to know. Most of the reel is a recap so its in general terms, so its weird that a small things significant to only Bellamy’s character is picked. So we can assume Clarkey G is very in depth about her boy Bell.

“Together, even bad children can do good things.”: When Madi says this part she puts slight emphasis on the word together and separates it from the rest of the sentence. We all know together is Blarke’s thing and those dramatic shits won’t let us forget it. So that was, in my opinion, a reference to their teamwork and “togetherness”. Losers.

It’s immediately followed by the “Who we are and who we need to be…” clip AND the smiling like idiots after almost dying in a car collision clip (which I’ll talk about below) just furthering the connection between Bellarke and “together”.

“There are no good guys.”: This was originally a Abby / Clarke quote but Clarke repeats it back to Bellamy in S3 and in the reel they play it over the clip of that angsty lever pulling in Mt. Weather.

“The bravest and the fairest of them all…”: This one is more my personal head canon or overreaction, you pick. But this means Clarke describes herself to Madi as “fairest of them all” which is a phrase commonly used to describe what now? FUCKING PRINCESSES. Clarke sees herself as a Princess of this story and no one is going to convince me Bellamy Blake is not responsible for that.

“Everyone she loved or cared about was gone… or lost to space.”: This one might be a stretch, but Bellamy is literally the only character portrayed as having an important relationship or connection to Clarke out of any of the people in space. Hell, he’s the only one we know by name too so… I just personally… have the belief… that it is implied… ;)

Kind of in between the narrative and the visuals is the fact that Bellamy has more spoken lines in the Sizzle Reel (obvs apart from Madi’s narration) than any other character, so again, he’s an important person to Clarke.

Visuals (Clips)

The “Who we are and who we need to be to survive are very different things” moment: This is a clip of Bellamy offers sound advice to Clarke being his soft self. It’s one of the first times we see him actually be soft with her (clearly he picks up the habit quickly though). Before then he’s always been harsh, but here we got our first glance at him trying to actually comfort her. From an outside perspective of someone with no previous knowledge of the show, its a moment of someone (who we already know is important to Clarke) try to offer her a bit of comfort or calming advice in a very soft and sincere way. So you get the impression they care.

That "let’s smile at each other in relief after you just shot a guy in a moving vehicle and saved our lives”: We know its a moment of relief after Bellamy just saved Clarke’s life, but also saved the collective asses of the human race with those barrels of hydrazine. It’s cute they smile, they’re glad they’re alive. Again, from an outsider’s perspective, they see Bellamy being a boss and shooting the guy in Clarke’s rover and the two of them smiling in relief like idiots. Again establishing that they care about each other and that there is a bond between them and that they’re cute when they smile. Idk are you catching the drift? It’s framed and cut so it comes off intimate.

S1 inspirational Bellamy speech: not really a focus on the Bellarke relationship, but it’s a powerful moment that, once again, enforces the importance of Bellamy to this story (and, in turn, to Clarke, holla!)

Dramatic pulling of the Mt. Weather Lever “TOGETHER”: A very important moment we, as viewers, know. Bellamy puts his hand over hers to pull the lever together and to share that burden because it’s what they do, and we also know how important it was for Bellamy because he was letting her know she isn’t alone. Outsider pov, its a teary eyed Bellamy looking at a stressed af Clarke and covering her hand with his own to pull the lever. It’s clearly emotional. It’s clearly significant. Again, framing it to add intimacy. All an outsider would see is two very close “friends?” in an emotional moment. ROMANCE. (It’s also played behind the “There are no good guys,” line.)

“You’re not acting like someone who just saved the world” moment: It’s soft. It’s packed with subtle emotions. Bob has those fucking heart eyes going again. They’re both bloody and tired and about to cry again. You know, just clearly two pals being emo and soft with each other LIKE ALWAYS.

Quick shot of the “Blake family hand holding panic” as Arkadia burns: It’s small and quick, but it adds a small moment of unity between the obvious family dynamic the characters have as they watch their home burn and hold on to each other.

THAT HUG THOOOOOO: I mean… it’s a very emotional hug while Clarke is crying and Bellamy is distraught™. Enforces that they’re close on a personal, intimate level to newbies and reminds us of that time we all died for the veterans. I’m getting repetitive, but… it looks romantic or at least significant if you don’t know the story. And it’s overplayed and followed by Clarke saying the line “You have such a big heart Bellamy.” Like, um excuse me that shit is cut to look romantic as all hell. “Big heart,” my gawd how obvious are they trying to be. Showing her hugging him emo af while she’s gushing about how caring he is…. And it’s immediately followed by…

“If anything happens to me-” “NOTHING IS HAPPENING TO YOU.”: Pal… In general narratives “If something happens to me…” is usually followed by a confession or an implied confession of something important, usually feeeeeeeelings. And then Bellamy’s absolute refusal of anything happening to her. This comes across the same to both veteran viewers and the newbies. It’s a guy blantanly just refusing the idea of anything bad happening to someone he cares about. Again with the ROMANTIC SUBTEXT YALL. It’s intimate and emotionally charged as heeeelllllllllllll.

“May we meet again”: Ok yo this one is more important that it seems. Like it’s the tearjerking, heart breaking moment that Bellamy’s basically saying goodbye to Clarke. We see, and hear, how Clarke sacrificed herself to save her friends and then immediately we get Bellamy’s fucking sad af heartbroken reaction to leaving her behind. The editors of this were literally screaming “THEY ARE IMPORTANT TO EACHOTHER” through this whole thing, but then they wrap it up by showing him pretty much saying bye and leaving her behind and being completely torn up about it. oh my gawd this sizzle reel was genius.

And just a repeat, Bellamy is the only character mentioned by name in the narration, he’s the only on portrayed as having a significant connection to Clarke (there were no scenes between her and anyone else, exclusively, besides the brief clip of L… interesting…), he has more scenes with spoken lines than anyone else, everyone blarke moment shown was a very personal moment in their relationship development, and the romantic subtext is the bomb dot com.

I’d say go rewatch the video ( x ) and look at it as someone who knows nothing about the show and then think about how Bellarke comes off to you or how their scenes are staged and cut together because it’s wild when you really get at it.

Sorry this is literally a novel, I just have a lot of Bellarke feelings tonight and I’m emo af and the sizzle reel still has me shooketh. I hope this is at least enlightening!

[akemilena]

Ryusei Post Office

from Ryusei-go Radio Station DJCD with Murata Taishi (Shino) and Saito Souma (Yamagi)

I’m so sorry for the wait, it’s finally here! This is the mail part of the radio CD. The topics they talk about include: eps 45 & 46, Yamagi’s feelings, Shino’s feelings, Yamagi’s butt, the famous next episode previews, and more! It’s long but it’s really interesting.

Also, since radio is pretty difficult to translate, please excuse any awkward sentences!

You can find the translation of the same CD’s Ryusei Letter here.

Both: Ryusei-go Radio Station!

Murata: Hello everyone! From the TV anime Mobile Suit Gundam Iron-blooded Orphans, voicing Norba Shino, I’m Murata Taishi!

Souma: And, hello everyone! Voicing Yamagi Gilmerton, I’m Saito Souma!

Murata: Yes! This CD is… not! Mobile Suit Gundam IBO’s radio show, Tekkadan Radio Station, but Ryusei-go Radio Station, with the Tekkadan members Shino and Yamagi! Yaaaay!!

Both: Yaaaay!!!

Souma: Shino…!!

Murata: Yamagi…

Souma: *laughs*

Murata: Yamagi…

Souma: No no no, it wasn’t that rough…

Murata: Yeah it wasn’t like that…

Souma: *rough voice* Yamagi…

Murata: *laughs*

Souma: Well then! Shino came back to us.

Murata: Right! Of course, if it’s not these two…

Souma: That’s right! Last time we already appeared as guests in Tetsuradi’s radio CD volume 5… we did many things already, but apparently that was really popular…

Murata: It was? Thank you very much~

Souma: And that’s why this time, thanks to everyone’s passionate requests, we got to release this Ryusei-go Radio Station CD as an individual CD!!!

Murata: We did??? We are releasing it???

Souma: We’re releasing it!!

Murata: We released it~ Thank you very much!!

Souma: That’s right~

Murata: For real?

Souma: Last time, the other two (Kawanishi and Terasaki) were hosts and we were there as guest.

Murata: Yes yes yes.

Souma: But this time it’s just the two of us.

Murata: That’s right, it’s really just the two of us doing this. Is this fine? Can we? Thank you~

Souma: The anime already ended, and a lot of things happened.

Murata: A lot of things happened!

Souma: So we can look back on everything that happened, and I think we also got a lot of mails from everyone, so while reading those mails too…

Murata: But I was really surprised, when episode 45 ended and I looked at twitter, I was like “eh?! We’re doing it!?”

Both: *laughs*

Souma: That’s true! I didn’t know anything at all either.

Murata: When I was thinking about what to write on twitter, in that moment I saw that on my timeline and it was like “eh what wait there’s too much info!!”

Souma: *laughs*

Murata: It was really something amazing.

Souma: This is the age where you know things through SNS.

Murata: Yes it is.

Souma: Well then, let’s get started! Ryusei-go Radio Station!

Both: “The sustenance of life is on the radio!”*

Both: Ryusei-go Radio Station!

Murata: Ryusei-go Radio Station! First we start with this corner:

Both: Ryusei-go post office!

Murata: In this corner we introduce mails we got from the listeners.

Souma: The listeners’ corner, right?

Murata: Yes, that’s it. Apparently we got a HUGE amount of mails.

Souma: It seems we got a lot!

Murata: A looooot.

Souma: But a looooooooooot.

Murata: Yep.

Souma: I’m so happy!

Murata: Right.

Souma: I’m really thankful. Then let’s read them non-stop.

Murata: Then, first. Pen name: Saramu! Saramu-san? Thank you very much.

Souma: Thank you.

Murata: “Murata-san, Saito-san, hello!”

Souma: Hello.

Murata: “I love Shino and Yamagi-kun so much so when I heard they were going to release Ryusei-go Radio Station I got SUPER excited!”

Souma: SUPER excited? Thank you very much.

Murata: “I REALLY LOVE Shino and Yamagi-kun’s relationship, so when Shino… passed away… in the anime I was really shocked. I think this is going to drag for like three years.”

Souma: *laughs* That’s a lot!

Murata: It is!

Souma: It’s a lot…

Murata: “When you two acted that scene, what were your feelings? I’d love to hear that.”

Souma: Saramu-san is going to drag this until like the Tokyo Olympics…

Murata: It’s a really long span… Is her heart going to last? Is she going to be okay?

Souma: Well, we kind of… vaguely… were ready for it, right?

Murata: Of course, it’s a show where you don’t know when you’ll die, Gundam.

Souma: But how was it when you actually read the script?

Murata: When I actually read it… you know, that thing. In this show, there’s a cast list.

Souma: There is.

Murata: We got that cast list first, and there’s written like, how much you talk this week? The word count.

Souma: Yes.

Murata: If it was like always, Yamagi wouldn’t have too many, and Shino quite a lot. But in this week, it goes up suddenly…

Souma: The sentence count shoot up. *laughs*

Murata: It really did. *laughs*

Souma: “Ah, something will happen” I thought, honestly.

Murata: You’d guess that, yeah. And in addition, after the recording of episode 44, the sound director was grinning…

Both: *laughs*

Souma: He was indeed grinning.

Murata: Yeah. I thought, “his smile is kiiiiind of different than usual”. And this was the result.

Souma: You know… When I was checking the script the day before, it was so painful… well… There’s a Tekkadan SNS group, right?

Murata: There is.

Souma: I usually don’t say anything in that group…

Murata: That’s true! In that… account?

Souma: Yeah it’s an account… and Hosoya-san, before I started checking it he sent a “Yamagiii…” and I thought “eeh??? Me???” but no! It was Shino!

Murata: That was totally misleading.

Souma: It was. But seriously it was so painful, I sent “I can’t finish checking this”…

Murata: Right.

Souma: It was so shocking… but Shino’s yell in the real take was really a yell from his soul.

Murata: It was… Well, it’s the moment when he goes so I thought I had to put it all there, but I put so much I ended up lacking oxygen.

Souma: It was really cool. Rather than cool, it was like “ah, this is really what feelings are”.

Murata: Right, it wasn’t something beautiful… I put it out of my whole body.

Souma: Amazing…

Murata: But after that, the yell went on so long, and Souma-kun voiced his reaction after I finished, so it wouldn’t overlap.

Souma: Of course, I couldn’t overlap such a wonderful scream.

Murata: In this anime they tend to use test takes a lot.

Souma: Yep they tend to use the initial impulse.

Murata: There are times where the test take is better.

Souma: There are!

Murata: It’s the established practice so maybe this time they used the test take.

Souma: But you know, we did this together for a year, and precisely because of that, I knew “Ah, Murata-san will put out all his feelings, so I’ll listen and wait”. Well, you can’t react if you don’t listen.

Murata: That’s right.

Souma: That’s why, I had a lot of fun too. It’s kind of nice that it’s so natural. It’s not like I’m doing an effort.

Murata: It’s not like you’re attending to me.

Souma: It’s like “ah, so it’s like that, okay”. It was a weird feeling, it was painful but it was fun.

Murata: You’re right! As actors, we feel that a lot. Those kind of interactions feel good, but at the same time, the scene itself is a bit…

Souma: Yeah. Let’s go to the next message then. We got this one from Mei-san. Thank you very much. “Murata-san, Saito-san, nice to meet you!”

Murata: Nice to meet you.

Souma: “Yamagi, who supports Shino and the other pilots as the maintenance crew. I’ve been supporting him since the first season, so in episode 46 I was filled by a lot of emotions and cried out loud. So Murata-san, Saito-san, do you have any scene where you cried that has remained in your heart?”

Souma: This is… difficult… there are a lot.

Shino: Right… and when we arrived to 45, that was…

Souma: I cried at home with that, and aside from our scenes, there are a lot… For example, Naze…

Murata: Naze-san, right…

Souma: Naze’s scene was…

Murata: With Amida-san, together…

Souma: That was painful…

Murata: It really was. And at the same time, those feelings towards that boss, like “That goddamn guy!”

Souma: RIGHT! That guy!!

Murata: He’s really helping with the plot!

Souma: No, really…

Murata: Souma-kun, are you crying?!

Souma: I’m fine! I’m fine, I’m fine.

Murata: Feelings overflow.

Souma: There are a lot of scenes, and you make new discoveries if you look back.

Murata: Everyone, please watch it again after a while.

Souma: Yes!

Murata: Then, I’ll read the next one. Pen name: Sudachi-san.

Souma: Ah, sudachi is delicious.

Murata: Right. “I started watching from season 2, and in episodes 45 and 46 Shino and Yamagi’s relationship and feelings were described, and paired up with your passionate acting, it made me cry a lot. Honestly, I was a bit surprised Shino had realized about Yamagi’s feelings, so now I’m watching season 1 again and thinking where did he realize. Is there any moment where you two think that he might have realized?”

Souma: Ah… I… Yamagi thought Shino hadn’t noticed.

Murata: That’s right.

Souma: That’s why with episode 46, I was like “Eh?!”

Murata: The shocking truth.

Souma: The thing is, if Eugene knew, that means Yamagi’s feelings are super obvious.

Murata: *laughs* Right!

Souma: He even said “You just now figured that out?”

Murata: Yeah, Eugene said that.

Souma: So, what do you think? About Shino. I guess it’s difficult to say, though.

Murata: Right. Um, I think in season 1 he hasn’t realized yet.

Souma: Right.

Murata: You know, Shino is very tolerant, so he accepts everything, in the good sense and in the bad sense. That’s why, since they were together a lot even in season 1… hm… I wonder where…

Souma: But pinpointing it exactly is a bit difficult…

Murata: There wasn’t any moment where it was pictured directly… but you know, the last moment of season 1 was amazing. Souma-kun’s “Shino!!!”

Souma: Shino!!!

Murata: He was so worried. And if you think he was taking care of the Ryusei-go as the maintenance crew too… I think it was progressively.

Souma: Ah, I see. It’s not something that happens suddenly one day. But you know, what I think is amazing is… in episode 45, in the recording, it felt like Shino hadn’t noticed Yamagi’s feelings at all, but when I watched it airing and I saw Shino’s face, and the way he combed Yamagi’s hair saying “let’s drink the two of us someday”, I was like “wait?”

Murata: Right.

Souma: I thought, “this guy is showing his manhood”

Both: *laugh*

Murata: Like, he’s attacking now.

Souma: He’s Shino-san now.

Murata: *laughs*

Souma: I thought that. I think it’d be nice if everyone thinks about it and comes to their own conclusion. But really, it makes you curious…

Murata: Right!

Souma: Shino is really cool… No, but he became very cool! He was cool at first too though.

Murata: He became more like an adult.

Souma: Yes, that’s it. Also, he was no match for Zack-san.

Murata: What was that?! What happened?!

Souma: *laughs* I’m really curious about that.

Murata: He was desperately hiding it.

Souma: Okay, so here, from Hanya-san. Thank you very much. “Murata-san, let me ask you something!”

Murata: Sure!

Souma: “When I read Murata-san’s words in interviews and events, I felt a lot of love not only towards your own character, Shino, but for Yamagi too.”

Murata: *laughs*

Souma: “What do you like about Yamagi?”

Murata: Wait, wait wait.

Souma: “Saito-san answered what he liked about Shino in another radio episode, so please, Murata-san, answer it too.”

Murata: Hmm, I see. Me personally, you mean.

Souma: Murata-san himself, yes.

Murata: About if I’m pouring too much love into Yamagi.

Souma: It was a message about that, yes.

Murata: *laughs* That’s, well…

Souma: This is turning into the same development as the last time we went to the radio. Well, so how is it? As a personal opinion.

Murata: Personally, as Murata Taishi, he’s very brave, after all. He’s not like “look how much I’m doing for you”.

Souma: That’s true.

Murata: He’s modest, let’s say. He’s very pure, the purest Japanese. And that’s how I want him to stay, personally. He’s like, hmm, stepping back? It’s not too good though, this is an age where woman also are stepping forward, but he’s like supporting from behind.

Souma: I see.

Murata: He’s a boy though.

Souma: *laughs* Well, well.

Murata: Well, well, well.

Souma: But you know, until the end, there was a theory that Yamagi was actually a girl, between the viewers.

Murata: Eh? Really? There was?

Souma: And I was like “Eh? Then, me…?”

Both: *laugh*

Murata: “I was casted, but…”

Souma: Like, “Could it be I was voicing a woman?”

Murata: Now that you mention it, his silhouette when he was looking at the Flauros was… very… you know… like a girl.

Souma: Um, his butt…

Murata: Yes!!!

Souma: His butt looked so… soft…

Murata: It did.

Souma: Right.

Murata: Right.

Souma: What does it mean?

Murata: Sunrise-san, what is this??

Both: *laugh*

Murata: Well, it was very nicely drawn.

Souma: In Orphans, you know, there are Yamagi’s feelings towards Shino, and also the Turbines people. There are many shapes of love.

Murata: There are.

Souma: There are no prejudices or discrimination, it’s just “this is how it is”, they’re written completely normally, and it’s amazing.

Murata: This is also why it became popular, too.

Souma: Definitely.

Murata: Well, let’s go to the next one. Pen name: Suzu Castella-san.

Souma: Thank you very much.

Murata: “Yamagi liked Shino, right?” Eh…? What kind of beginning is this? (this doesn’t make sense in english, but the way he read it in japanese sounded ambiguous)

Souma: Ah, that Yamagi…

Murata: …liked Shino.

Souma: It sounded like “I like Yamagi/Shino, right?” or something, well I’m sure there are people who like it.

Murata: Right. Well, could be. “I thought that might be the case, but I was really surprised to hear it directly from Shino’s mouth. And then, after knowing this, I thought Yamagi would’ve liked to talk more with Shino. So here, a question: what do you think Shino would say if he had survived and they had fulfilled the promise of drinking together?”

Souma: What would…

Murata: Yep! They made a promise, after all.

Souma: But you know, I don’t think Yamagi would dare to get to the core of it.

Murata: Right, that’s…

Souma: Because if he did, you’d think “then what was that from episode 45…” Everything until episode 45, I mean.

Murata: Right, his hidden feelings.

Souma: But Shino would probably interact with him like always.

Murata: You’re right. He wouldn’t do anything dangerous.

Souma: No, but you know, Shino always says “let’s go to a place with lots of pretty girls”, but if he were drinking seriously with Yamagi, he would never ever say that.

Murata: Yep yep.

Souma: But in the first season he would have. At the beginning of the first season, for better or for worse, he had no delicacy.

Murata: Right *laughs*

Souma: Episode 45’s Shino would never say it.

Murata: It’s like a push and pull. But this is something I’m really curious about.

Souma: Right! I know it’s beautiful precisely because it’s not shown, but still… we want to see it too!

Murata: Right.

Souma: Even if it’s an “if” series.

Murata: An “if” series, or a spin-off. So, Sunrise-san, please…

Souma: Well, for now, we need everyone to buy it.

Both: *laugh*

Souma: Okay, next, from Hitomi-san. Thank you. “Souma-kun, Murata Taishi-san, welcome back, Ryusei-go!”

Murata: *laughs* I’m back. I know I can’t say it with my own name, though.

Souma: He’s Murata Taishi now.

Murata: Yes I am.

Souma: “The previews for the second season were the seiyuu’s ad-libs, and Murata-san’s “I will definitely protect you” and “Or I should carry you in my arms like a princess” were very shocking. It didn’t say who was it directed to, but I was convinced it was to Yamagi. I thought Murata-san joked about the “carry like a princess” but surprisingly Yamagi appeared like that in the following episode”.

Both: *laugh*

Souma: “That’s our Murata-san. Please tell us about the details on how this ad-lib was born.”

Murata: The details?

Souma: You just did a proper preview, right?

Murata: Yep. It was like a complementation. Suddenly Yamagi was dragged into the cockpit, and Shino was like “my bad”. But the process until then wasn’t shown, so I thought, why not do it in the preview. It was on my own though, without asking the writer or anything *laughs*

Souma: No, but that’s their fault for letting us improvise.

Murata: Right! I was so surprised!

Souma: Because it was written like, “Next on Mobile Suit Gundam Iron-Blooded Orphans, subtitle, from now on ad-lib”

Murata: Who came up with this, seriously?!

Souma: Right. But honestly, I was glad, actually.

Murata: *laughs* I see.

Souma: And people called me the “preview performer”, you know.

Murata: *laughs*

Souma: But really, that “ta-da da da! … Idiot” was amazing.

Murata: That was so good. It felt like an answer. We won’t say who, though.

Souma: He’s only saying that “should I carry you like a princess”.

Murata: Right. I’ll say this because I can say it now, but I thought really hard about it for a whole week!

Souma: Yes!! Because that’s like a call up notice!

Murata: Right!!

Souma: Like “Uwah, I’m neeext?!”

Murata: Yes!! It’s like going to the battlefield.

Souma: Because if I think of one and then I get told “no, another one would be better”…

Murata: It happens.

Souma: If I don’t bring like three or four patterns I get very anxious!

Murata: Right!!! The one just for laughs and the serious one.

Souma: Let’s say the one just for laughs first, and if it goes through then great, if not “ah, then I’ll do the safer one”

Murata: Yeah yeah. We’re going to the limit. We thought about them like script writers though.

Souma: We do things just for laughs, but seriously. That’s important.

Murata: Yep. Thank you everyone for the mails. And that’s all for Ryusei Post office!

 TL note:  “The sustenance of life is on the radio!” is a reference to the show’s catchphrase “The sustenance of life is on the battlefield”. They say it in the radio show every time.

And for those interested, here’s a few news!

First of all, Ryusei-go Radio Station CD 2 has been announced!!! The first CD was super popular so we got a sequel. It will be included in a special 2-disc CD which also will include a radio CD of the Earth Branch with Mika (Kawanishi Kengo), Takaki (Amasaki Kouhei), Chad (Ishiya Haruki) and Aston (Kumagai Kentaro)

Tekkadan Radio Station ended a few weeks after the anime, but now it’s got a revival and it airs once a month with Kawanishi and a monthly personality. July’s is Yamagi (Saito Souma). You can listen to it from July 30th onwards here (it’s region locked though)

New Gundam IBO T-shirts will be released soon. The characters they’re based on are Mika Orga, Eugene, Akihiro, Shino, and Yamagi!! It’s really amazing how Yamagi’s become important enough to be in the same level as the main characters. That’s thanks to the fans’ love for sure.

The staff ran a poll some time ago to decide which Tekkadan characters would get an image perfume. The winners were Orga and Shino (Murata Taishi was wearing Shino’s today), and apparently Yamagi and Mika were 3rd and 4th respectively, so they’re getting one too. Again, Yamagi is amazing.

Aaaand that’s all! I hope you enjoyed it, and I recommend 100% buying this radio CD because the quiz part was super fun too. Feel free to send me any comments/messages about it, I’d be really happy!

Thanks for reading!!

[blushoseoks]

GREY AREA. (M) | 10

And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.

You drive me insane…You’re the scariest, most clever, bravest person I know, and sometimes I can’t catch my breath because I’m trying so hard to keep up. There will never be another like you. You realize that, don’t you? Billions of people will come and go in this world, but there will never be another like you." - Marie Lu, Champion

›› Pairing: Min Yoongi / Reader ›› Word Count: 6,216 ›› Chapter Index and Warnings ›› Soulmate!AU, Slowburn, Angst

A wet city is one thing you are absolutely convinced you will never grow tired of, or get used to. You were positive that you had fallen in love, the first night it had rained in Seoul, because the next day the city was wet.

The smell of the rain is one thing you will always admire. The salty aroma mixed with that of the water was enough to soothe every ache in your bones, enough to calm any storm in your head.

You've always loved the rain, always preferred it over the endless sunshine, because, in your opinion, sunshine was too warm, too happy, not plausible.

And, were you really looking this deeply into the goddamn weather?

Your yellow hued rainboots slosh noisily against the pavement of the sidewalk as you walk in slow steps, only a few minutes away from arriving at your destination.

And every time you walk to Jungkook and Yoongi's apartment building, you find yourself becoming more familiar with it.

It takes you approximately ten minutes to enter the building and then proceed to the third floor, and you waste no time in doing so.

Before you know it, you've reached the door. Hand outstretching to knock against it, and you do. And afterward, is when you start to regret all of this.

Was this truly a good decision?

Had you given yourself enough time to process his offer?

Fuck.

No.

Yes.

Fuck!

This wasn't a good idea, not at all.

You turn around suddenly, about to make a run for it, but before you can dart down the hallway, your attention is on the sound of a doorknob twisting and being pulled open.

And when you direct your gaze to the door, you're honestly not very surprised to see none other than Min Yoongi standing in front of you.

You blink.

And you watch as he does the same.

And the heat burns so nicely.

Even on an unfathomable warm day like this.

“I'm-” you hesitate, seeming to be at a loss for words. You seem to stumble then, on your words that is. Not entirely knowing what to say, but then an excuse – a lie comes to you.

“Is uh- is Jungkook here? I came to hang out, he texted me earlier today.”

Or so, maybe it wasn't an entire lie.

It didn't count as a lie if half of it was true.

Right?

Yoongi looks at you curiously, eyebrows pulling upwards as his eyes seem to trail over every inch of your face. Taking in each expression, and every movement.

And you suddenly feel insecure under his gaze.

You hadn't bothered to dress up.

You were wearing a white tshirt, a pair of light blue shorts. You had thrown on a long army green jacket, one that would keep you dry if the rain were to come again.

“Jungkook invited you over?” He asks, and there's a hint of something you can't quite pinpoint in his tone.

You nod your head in response, adding a, “Yeah,” for good measure.

You watch as Yoongi's face contorts, like he's hesitating, thinking over thoughts he plans on keeping silent.

“Uh, m'not sure why he invited you over. He left like twenty minutes ago.” He responds, eyes not moving to look away from yours.

“Oh.” You say a moment later, pink lips curving to the side in uneasiness.

“Yeah, he was gonna meet up with a friend and then I think he's going to a party or some shit.” Yoongi says as his arms move to cross over his chest, his shoulder moving to lean against the side of the metal door frame.

You bite your lip, mouth parting.

You should have figured.

It was afterall a Saturday night.

But, you can't help but to think that maybe just maybe you had come so quickly because you knew that Jungkook wouldn't be home.

“Surprised you aren't going, actually.” Yoongi adds on a second later. And there's a moment where you're unsure if it was meant in bad context or not, so it causes your lips to purse, your eyebrows to furrow and pull together.

He must see the change in your facial expressions because he adds onto his sentence almost immediately.

“Only because he was saying that he'd hoped to see you tonight, or something. I think he planned on introducing you to his friend. I don't know,  I hardly pay attention to when he talks about parties. Not very interested in them.” He shrugs nonchalantly as he says it, teeth gliding across his lip.

And you can't help but to think how factual his words really are. Whenever you had seen him at a party, or a club for that matter, excluding the first night you met, he had always seem very disinterested. Like a part of him was there, but a different part was somewhere else. Somewhere he longed to be.

You realize you've been staring at him blankly for a moment too long in silence, when he clears his throat.

And it's weird.

How he keeps eye contact.

How he would have never done this two weeks ago.

Not even if you had begged.

“Well.” You say, suddenly too nervous to stick around. You move your right thumb to point behind you. Mouth parting as you speak.

“I'm just – I'm going to go.” You nod your head as you talk, the corners of your lips twisting upwards into a smile. Or, whatever you have managed to look like a smile. You take a step backwards carefully, your footsteps quiet as you do so, and you're about to turn around and  dart down the hallway as quickly as your legs can carry you, when Yoongi's lips part, and he speaks hesitantly. Like he's unsure if what he's about to say is borderline alright or not.

“I think it's going to rain again, you-” he stops, lips moving to purse together. “I'd give you a ride, but I don't have my car. I- I uh, don't think you should walk when it may rain.”

You lips part then, letting out a gentle breath as you respond.

“Thank you for the offer, I really do appreciate it but – I bet I can make it back before the rain st--” You're unable to finish your sentence, because a loud burst of thunder interrupts your sentence and fills the air, causing you to jump in fright just a little.

If Yoongi notices, he doesn't say.

Your lips immediately fall shut, and then you look to the ceiling of the hallway, as if you'd be able to see the sky.

And for a moment you curse the sky. You curse Seoul. You curse the goddamn Universe for playing intended and very cruel jokes on you.

It takes approximately thirty seconds for you to come to the conclusion that you were going to have to stay. That you didn't have a way out. Because a storm had just presented itself and it took you a good twenty five minutes to walk back to your apartment.

Not to mention all signs of transportation weren't plausible either.

Taehyung and Hoseok were probably at a party, Yoona was way too emotional, and you certainly weren't gong to ask her for help. And Namjoon – sweet Namjoon, Namjoon who you missed more than words could describe, was working.

So, you were stuck.

And figuratively fucked.

Your eyes fall back onto Yoongi's, and you watch as he moves a hand to the back of his neck, his fingertips scratching at the skin while a sheepish smile starts to form on his lips.

And then.

“I have hot chocolate.”

And he says it in form of an invitation.

And he tilts his head, a smile slowly prodding at his lips in attempt to make this all seem as normal as possible, or at least, that's what you thought.

And hot chocolate?

On such a warm day?

But despite your thoughts, you bite the inside of your cheek, not seeing a way out. And after rushing one of your hands through your dyed  locks, you nod your head in agreement. Tongue snaking out to wet over your lips. “Yeah, alright.”

And you watch as Yoongi steps as much to the side as he can, even more so than before, making enough room for you to slip by and that's exactly what you do after you nod your head.

But the doorway is small and as you pass, your sides brush. Just the tiniest bit of a touch, but still it's enough to send a plethora of heat coursing through your body so warm that you almost lose your balance.

You catch yourself right at the last moment, as you fumble inside, able to save yourself from what would have been a more than definite embarrassing, and shameless fall in front of your soulmate.

And when you step inside you can't help but to glance around. Eyes skidding through recognizable furnishings and decorations.

Jungkook's art is still displayed nicely on the wall, the same piece remains unfinished. The tv is on, but at a low volume. And there are multiple open textbooks scattered on the couch and glass coffee table that sits in their living room. It looks like Yoongi had been in the middle of studying, and the tv was on for mere background noise, nothing more.

“Did I interrupt?” You ask, as you turn around. And Yoongi's just standing there beside the entrance, his eyes trained on you. And the sight of catching him staring, causes something in your stomach to flutter.

Had – had he been watching you?

Surely not.

“No.” He responds quickly. Taking a step forward, he's still a few numbered feet behind you. “Well, actually,” he says, “technically yes, but I needed a break anyway.” His face contorts into a pained expression, like he's said something he's not supposed too.

You decide right then and there that Min Yoongi was hard to read.

“Well, I won't make much noise anyway.” You say, before turning back around. And it's only when you look down, do you notice that you were still wearing your rainboots, and with wearing them, you had tracked in an ugly amount of water with you.

“Shit!” You screech before you can think over it. “I'm so sorry.” You apologize as you take a step backwards, moving closer to the door. And it's in the midst of slipping off your boots, does Yoongi respond.

“Nah, don't worry about it, Jungkook does it all of the time. M'constantly cleaning up after him.”

And you reply carelessly. Finally deciding to try to make this as little awkward as it needed to be.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. I do the same with Hoseok and Taehyung. Lazy fuckers.”

And then you ever so slowly raise your head to stare up at Min Yoongi who is only a few feet away from you, and when your eyes land on his, a clear indication that he had still been staring in your direction, he quickly looks away.

“Right.” He says, eyes directing their attention to somewhere in the living room.

“How do you like your hot chocolate?” He asks a mere moment later.

You lick the roof of your mouth, sliding off your other boot, before lining them up courteously next to a pair of shoes by the front door.

“Hm,” you respond a moment later, straightening your body as you turn your attention towards the living room. “With marshmallows and lots of whipped cream.”

You don't get a response, but you figure he wasn't really looking to respond. And you're in the process of shucking off your lightweight jacket, when you feet it.

The heat, and it's not the kind you feel when he's staring at you.

No.

It's the kind you feel when he's touching you.

You're about to turn around, about to question him, but then you realize what he's doing.

Helping you take off your jacket.

As if you couldn't do it yourself.

The tips of his fingers move to grab the collar of it, but instead they fumble, moving and pressing directly against a part of your collarbones, causing a fire to burn beneath where he touches. And you would shudder, but the warmth is enough to keep you from doing so.

You choke on your breath instead, unable to concentrate when his skin is on yours.

And instead of moving his fingers away, instead of apologizing, and instead of taking a step backwards..

he doesn't.

He keeps his fingers there. And you can feel how tough the tips of them are, the pads of the skin is. You can feel the way they gently slide across your skin as they move up your body.

And instead of telling him to get his hands off of you, instead of asking him to stop..

you don't.

You let him keep his touch on you.

Because the burn of starfire is so addicting.

He lets out a gentle breath from behind you, and you can feel the hot air as it hits the shell of your ear. And this time you do shudder.

Your body had stilled, your shoulders tensing almost as soon as his fingers had pressed to your skin.

You can't do anything but hold the breath that had caught in your throat, in. Can't do anything but just stand there, your heart clenching inside of your chest.

Because even though it feels wrong, you don't want him to stop.

The pads of his fingers start to drag ever so softly upwards from your collarbones, tracing the skin that the v neck of the shirt fails to cover, they continue to raise higher until they've reached the sides of your neck.

And you shiver, again. Because the touch – may feel good, but it is, afterall foreign.

Why can't you bring yourself to tell him to stop?

And every bit of skin that touches yours, causes a million constellations to form in your body. You swear galaxies are being born where his touch meets yours. And these world's- they cause a heat so indulging, you're afraid you're going to be nothing but ash soon enough.

But your worries subside, when his fingers move to grip the collar of your jacket, and he pulls it back in a swift yet gentle movement. His actions ceases when the jacket has fallen to your elbows.

And again, you're met with how cold the room truly is.

You don't say anything.

Caught somewhere in between wanting him to touch you, and wanting him to get the fuck away from you.

That's when he clears his throat and takes a step backward. Like he had just been aware of his actions, like he hadn't had any control over his body.

You can't bring yourself to turn towards him.

He mumbles something about hot chocolate, something almost inaudible and before you can muster up the courage to turn around to question his motives, or to ask him just what the hell he was doing, he's turned the corner and retreated into the kitchen.

And it's only when he's gone, only when he's out of sight are you able to let out a deep breath. Only when he's gone do your shoulders finally untense, and move to lazily stand. And it's when your heart begins to settle just a tad.

Yeah, you think, you were fucked.

It doesn't get much better after that.

You're both sitting in the living room, on opposite ends of the couch. He has a textbook in his lap, the tv is playing something that fails miserably to catch your attention, and your hands are clasping the hot chocolate he's given you more firmly than they should be. You're quite aware, but this way you can pretend that the heat you feel every time Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eye is the result from touching your mug.

When you look in his general direction, you're able to see that each textbook he has open are from different classes, the one he's currently reading from being something in math, you inaudibly groan at the sight.

Math.

Math was disgusting.

And it looks as though he was doing something in Calculus.

Even more disturbing.

And it's there as you're sitting by him do you find yourself drowning in thoughts of Park Jimin and how you're unsure if you should tell Yoongi about the encounter.

The selfish side of you said not to, was afraid that whatever progress had been made between the two of you – and really progress? He had asked to be friend's and offered you hot chocolate, some progress you both were making! Would dissipate and he'd once again push you back at an arms length if he had learned that you had found the third part of both of you. The piece that completed your trio.

But, the fact was, was that Min Yoongi was coming around. Slowly, yes, but surely at least. He was coming around. Finally. And you were afraid to do something that would make things come to a sudden still point. Make all of the progress crumble into nothing.

You scoot towards the edge of the couch, top half of your body leaning over as you move your hot chocolate to the glass surface of the coffee table, head turning in Yoongi's direction.

“Um, where's the bathroom?” You ask quietly. And as soon as the silence had been interrupted, as soon as your lips had parted, his attention had instantly directed to you.

And for a moment he just stares at you.

And you feel your heart skip a beat.

And then he points backwards with his thumb in the direction of a narrow hallway.

“Down that hallway, make a right at the end and you'll be in another hallway. It's the first door you'll come to.”

It takes you a moment, because you swear if just for a second you get lost in his eyes. In those eyes that most definitely hold accumulations of stars in them.

And then, you nod your head slowly.

And you push your knees upwards so you transition into a standing position.

And when you make it to the bathroom, you're surprised to see just how clean it truly was.

You can't help but to wonder who was the more messy one between the two boys.

You walk directly to the sink, the true intention of you going to the bathroom, and for a moment you just stare at your reflection. Your hands moving to grip the edge of the sink as you stare at yourself through the glass.

And you let out a deep breath.

Trying to figure out just how you were to get through the next what could be hours of the storm, with just Min Yoongi.

You turn the faucet on, letting out a deep breath as you cup your hands under the now running water and don't hesitate to move it over to your face, drenching your skin in the cool liquid.

And when the water goes everywhere, splashing onto the sink and the floor, you're instantly met with thought of apparently only girls in commercials can do such a thing without fucking up completely.

It takes you a few minutes to clean up the spilled water, having used the hand towel after you had dried your face, and then you decide it's time to retreat back into the living room.

But on your way back down the hallway, you pass a room. The door is open, and you're unsure if it's Yoongi's or Jungkook's.

Half of you screams to venture instead, to look around and absorb as much information about the room while you had the time, but before you can ponder the thought a moment more, your attention is being directed towards the end of the hallway.

Because you feel heat.

“Oh.” Yoongi says, body stilling in the hallway. “There you are – I was starting to think you had fallen in or climbed out the window or something.”

And was Yoongi really trying for another joke?

But you offer up a smile instead. Teeth moving down to graze across your bottom lip.

He goes to say something, of which you're unsure of, but he's interrupted by a loud ring coming from the living room. It's not your phone, the tone very different than yours.

He looks to the right, peering into the living room. And you think he's about to leave without another word, but then he shocks you and his lips part suddenly.

“Hey, Y/N.” He says in that slow draw you're getting so used to.

You stare at him, eyes landing on his and you watch as his dark eyes flicker down to your hair, the newly dyed pink. He studies the strands for a few heartbeats, gaze lingering on the straight before he uplifts his attention to yours. Eyes staring into yours.

“I didn't say it the other night, I should have, but I didn't – I,” he pauses as his attention stays on yours. “Your hair.” He says quietly, just above a whisper. “I really like it.”

And then the corners of his lips tug upwards into a small smile, one so miniscule you're not even sure it counts as one – but this was you – and this was Yoongi – smiling at you for the first time.

And it's there in that moment, as he turns his head, ripping his heat and smile away from you, as he disappears down the other hallway that you know for an absolute fact, all the fear and doubts escaping your body, you were going to be accepting his offer of a friendship.

And just like that, your fate was sealed - because Min Yoongi was absolutely going to destroy you. But hell, if you weren’t going to let him, or bask happily in the flames as he did so.

And sadly, at the time, you didn’t think that your thoughts would become so literal.

He's on the phone with whomever called for awhile after that. Well if we're being exact, then twenty one minutes and thirty two seconds. But, who was counting?

Certainly not you.

And it's when he gets off of the phone, that you start to feel your eyelids grow heavy. The rain always did that to you, though. Made you sleepy against your will. The endless blinking you keep doing is not helping you, not at all. The dimly lit room, and the storm raging on outside is not helping you either, only screaming at you to further fall into a deep slumber. And that's when Yoongi stands up suddenly, moving his textbook to the arm of the couch as his position changes.

His knees popping a bit, and he must sense that you're about to pass out, because he speaks his next sentence gently, very slowly in a hushed voice.

“You can sleep. I'll wake you when Jungkook's returned.”

And you stare at him through half lidded eyes, and then he's turning, walking out from around the couch and disappearing down the hallway. Probably to grab something, probably to use the restroom, whatever it was, you didn't know.

The next thing you process is how warm you feel, and then your eyes drift close. And they do not open again. Not for hours.

What you don't remember, and what you won't until days on down the road, in the middle of circumstances you never saw coming- is incoherently mumbling in your sleep, and Yoongi – he won't bring it up, no.

But he'll remember what you said.

He'll remember what you asked.

“Y/N.”

A deep voice that does not sound familiar registers through your brain amidst your heavy slumber. It's spoken in a soft tone, in a gentle way.

A way too gentle to wake you.

“Y/N.” The voice repeats a moment later when it gets no response out of you.

And then someone is moving a hand to press against the side of your neck in a gentle way of course, the pads of fingers applying just a small amount of pressure to the skin there.

The action and unrecognizable touch causes you to stir if just for a moment, not quite fully awake to comprehend what's occurring.

A second hand, one that matches the other moves to press against your right cheek, hand as large at the opposite one, touch just as gentle aswell.

And you can't help but to lean into the touch just a little, still not fully awake.

“Y/N.” The deep voices says again, only this time  he moves his hand just barely over your cheek, the foreign feeling from these pair of hands, being enough to cause you to stir a bit more.

And when your eyes flutter open, it's to stare directly into a pair you don't fully recognize, the unfamiliar color causing you to jump backwards just a little. But then he moves closer, and when he does, his face is being lit up by the moonlight that shows in between the curtains from a window in the living room.

And you let out a soft sigh of relief when it's Jungkook's face that comes into view.

“It's just me.” He reassures you a moment later, a slow smile tilting upwards at the corners of his lips.

And that's when you slowly sit up, he retracts his hands quickly as if he had just realized how intimate he was being. And when you sit up, the blanket that you're absolutely sure was not covering you when you fell asleep, has fallen to your lap.

“What're you doing here?” He whispers out a moment later, and you're about to ask him why he's still whispering since you were awake, but when you turn to look down at the place Yoongi once occupied, only to find him still situated in it, your lips shut.

You take notice of how his head is leaning back to rest against the cushion of the couch, his arms crossed over his chest and – really, was he actually grumpy when he slept too? Not to mention, the most obvious clue of someone sleeping: his eyes were shut.

You only turn back to Jungkook when you think you see Yoongi twitch just a little. Afraid that the effects of your stare will wake him.

“I was waiting for you,” you reply, and then you add, “asshole.” Just for kicks.

You slowly move your legs to rest over the edge of the couch, feet moving to press into the fabric of the carpet, and you let out a slow yawn, one as quiet as you're able to make it.

Jungkook has backed up a considerable amount, now moving to stand upwards, his head tilted downwards as he stares at you curiously.

“That doesn't explain why you were sleeping on my couch – with Yoongi hyung.” And something in his voice changes mid sentence, but you're too tired to investigate further into it, so you settle with:

“Yeah, it started raining and seeing as though you had Yoongi's car he couldn't take me home. He let me stay, and I fell asleep, looks like he did too.” And as the last of your sentence falls from your lips you turn your head back to study Yoongi's sleeping body.

And you can't help the smile that slowly stretches across your face. Because even though Yoongi's lips were pulled into his permanent narrow line, he still looked – dare you say, cute?

His nose was scrunched up, head tilting ever so slightly to the side, causing the side of his head to rest against one of his shoulders.

And yes, he definitely looked cute.

And you were sure that you'd regret thinking this much come morning.

“Well, should I get you home then?” Jungkook asks, interrupting your thoughts. This, causing you to turn your head towards him in reaction.

“You were at a party.” You say, hands moving to run through your hair. “Meaning you drank-- which pisses me off. Did you fucking drive home while drunk?”

You've managed to keep your voice just below a whisper, but your eyebrows knit together and your arms move to cross over your chest to reveal just how irked you were at the thought of someone as smart as Jungkook making such an ugly and dangerous decision.

You watch with scolding eyes as he shakes his head, as he leans his head backwards and lets a small chuckle bubble up from his throat and out of his mouth.

“I had one beer like two hours ago, I've had plenty of water to sober me up – if I needed to be sobered up at all. Somebody had to make sure your idiotic roommates got home.”

His sentence causes you to settle down a small amount.

“You know, as much as I appreciate you driving them home, you're not responsible for them.” You say a moment later rising to your feet, the space between you and Jungkook at a minimal.

“If I don't who will?” He asks a moment later, eyebrow cocking upwards.

“Me.” You respond. “Per usual.”

As you reply, you start to walk past the couch, but stop in your tracks when you notice that Yoongi is lacking a blanket.

Your white teeth move down to press into your bottom lip, and you shake your head before turning back around.

“And it's fair to you that you have to make sure they get home alright?” Jungkook asks from beside the table, keys dangling loosely in his hands.

You shrug your shoulders upwards, as you grab for the blanket that Yoongi had given you when you had dozed off.

“I'm just saying it's not your responsibility.”

You slowly start to stretch it across Yoongi's lank body, careful to not wake him in the process. Your ears perking up as Jungkook responds.

“And it's not yours either.”

You roll your eyes heavenward, but a smile reaches your lips. “Touche,” you say as you finish covering Yoongi's body with the material.

And when you look over your shoulder and spot Jungkook already staring at you, your smile only widens.

“Ready?” He asks.

You nod.

The drive home is relatively nice, to describe it in the least. Conversation flows easily between the both of you, but it always has and you hope to god it always will.

The rain has let up, the storm had disappeared, and you smile as Jungkook drives down the vacant streets. And it's not hard to tell just why the streets were empty, because it was a bit late in the night.

Two in the morning to be precise.

It's when you both pull up to the stoplight, even though there are no other cars around, that he notices your hair for the first time.

The windows are down, and the streetlights shine into the car, exposing your attire and new hair. And when he glances to you and back to the streetlights ahead, he does a double take – his head immediately turning back to your direction. His eyes widen a little amount as he takes in the sight.

And then before you can say anything he's outstretching a hand, moving just a few of the tips of his fingers through the pink, and a curious glint is filling his features.

“New do?” He asks, eyebrows raising.

You nod in response, and then he glances back forward, a smile on his lips as he continue to twirl a few strands of your hair around his fingers.

“I like it.”

And that's the last that's said about it.

When he pulls up to your apartment, is when you notice your lack of clothing.

Your arms move to feel for the jacket you had on when you arrived at their apartment, only to find the skin of your arms turning to goosebumps because of the breeze that slowly hits your skin.

“Oh shit,” you curse as you turn your attention to Jungkook. “Forgot my jacket at your apartment.”

You watch as as amused expression overtakes his features, and then he unbuckles his seat belt, and before you can ask him why, he's shucking off the jacket he's wearing.

“Jungkook.” You say, your head turning to the direction of your apartment. “My apartment is literally right there. I don't need your jacket.”

But he's insisting, shoveling the familiar fabric over to you.

And when your fingers are forced to curl around the fabric, is when you notice the familiar material. In your fingers is none other than Yoongi's jacket.

Your eyes widen upon realization, you shake your head profusely, trying to shove the jacket back in Jungkook's direction.

“Absolutely not,” you being to explain. “he'll kill me. It's Yoongi's jacket!”

You watch as Jungkook lets out a slow chuckle as his teeth move down to graze across his bottom lip.

“No, he won't. Not if I tell him I gave it to you. Plus, he may seem like a grumpy asshole but the geezer wouldn't hurt anyone.”

But still, you shake your head. A million nerves coursing through your head, uncertainty making itself noticeable in your stomach.

So he continues to push.

“You don't have to wear it. But take it, this way I won't forget to return your jacket to you. You'll have Yoongi's jacket, I'll have yours. We'll trade in Psychology Thursday.”

You still hesitate, but after his eyebrows raise, after he pushes the jacket in your general direction once more, you finally accept it.

“How old is he?” You ask a moment later.

“Yoongi?” He says rhetorically. “23.”

You nearly choke on your breath. “23?”

You were nineteen. That was a four year age difference.

“If I remember correctly, yes.” He says sarcastically.

You roll your eyes.

But you're nodding your head, your right hand moving to reach for the door handle to let yourself out, but before you get the door open, Jungkook's hand is moving to wrap around your left wrist. The bold movement causing your head to snap in his direction.

“Yes?” You inquire, obviously curious about his actions.

His lips part suddenly, hand removing itself from being wrapped around your wrist. “Well you see-” you says, sentence trailing off. He moves one of his hands to the back of his neck, blunt fingernails scratching the skin there. “Well, actually.” He says. “Since you're here. Well, I was wondering--” he hesitates, pink lips pursing and he looks down at his legs for a moment. Head tilting as though he's unsure.

“There's this uh – this charity event my friend's family is hosting here in a few weeks or so. It's to raise money for something that I've forgotten – yes I know that's bad, but –“ He trails off, his head directing itself back to yours, eyes finding your own. “Well basically, Hoseok and I got invited and we're allowed to bring two people. Jin's bringing Namjoon, and another one of his friend's. Hoseok is bringing Taehyung and I think Yoona. I'm bringing Yoongi and I was going to see if you'd want to go aswell.”

You tilt your head in acknowledgment, bottom lip disappearing into the warmth of your mouth as you start to suck on it unsurely.

Was – was Jungkook asking you out on a date?

And as if he was reading your thoughts he speaks up.

“And no, it's not a date. It's just everyone else got invited, and I figured you'd want to go as well.”

And the smile that stains itself to your lips should be enough to answer his question, but for good measure you nod your head.

“Yeah.” You let out a soft chuckle. “I'll go with you -” you pause before adding, “guys.” Referring to your friend's and certainly not Yoongi.

And the smile that appears on his lips is enough to make your entire day start off good.

It's when you're climbing out of the car, and shutting the door that you speak up.

“Hey Jungkook?”

And he bends his head down, eyes finding yours through the window.

And even though he had not done enough to prove himself to you, had only done a few numbered things, your discussion with your parents, and the weight of knowing that you probably would never be able to have one of of your soulmate's was enough to make you say the following words.

Because Min Yoongi was an asshole, it was obvious in the way he had spoken to you. Evident in the actions displayed upon you.

But, he was an asshole you wanted in your life.

“Tell Yoongi I've made my decision. Tell him I said yes – he'll, uh, know what it means.”

And you don't wait for a response before turning around and making your way up to your brownstone apartment, and when you're climbing up the stairs, you feel different. Lighter in some way.

Maybe a friendship was the beginning of fortunate events.

Maybe it was the start of something new.

Perhaps it was a redo, a chance to start fresh between the two of you.

And the jacket – it's in your arms.

And you'd be lying if you said it didn't take you a few tries before you were able to put it down that night.

A/N – Did this suck ????? Was it okay ???? Who knows ????? Not me !!!!

But there is something I want to address, something I posted a few days ago but I decided to tack it here aswell. I received a message regarding my use of comma's and how I use them incorrectly, and I just wanted to say that I apologize if my incorrect usage of comma's have made it difficult to read Grey Area. If it wasn't already noticeable I do struggle with commas, apostrophe('?)s, and the effect/affect shit words. I am growing. I am learning, I can only hope you all will stay by my side as I do so. If you notice something wrong please let me know, but I'm sensitive so try to do it gently please :(

Thank you everyone, I love you all so much. You have no idea. Grey Area 01 has PASSED 400 NOTES, and I am just so shocked. I can't even formulate coherent sentences. Actually, I can, but as I type this I am speechless. Just, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I wouldn't be able to do this without every single one of you. Whether you're a silent reader, a reblogger, or an avid asker, I love you.

Thank you for your encourage, your support, your continued love!

Please let me know your thoughts. :D

[eikotheblue]

Darkness and Silence (on Aphantasia)

(This is an effortpost about my experiences with my self-diagnosed Aphantasia. While I believe everything that I’m saying and the personal stories are all accurate, I’ve not been formally diagnosed, the condition is understudied, and introspection is hard. It’s also very long, especially past the readmore.)

For me, one of the most obvious and powerful ideas in LW-rationalism is the typical mind fallacy, or the (often mistaken) belief that other people’s internal experiences are similar to yours when presented with the same stimuli. Reading that sentence really doesn’t convey how big of a deal this is, but I don’t think more words from me can do really do it justice; consider instead reading this post and the comments for a small glimpse into how different brains and experiences can be. 

When I first read that post, the thing I thought of immediately was smell. I’ve never had a sense of smell that produces anything that looks like meaningful input, and until I was about 13 or so I just assumed that nobody could smell much of anything, or that I’d never been exposed to a strong scent. (Then I encountered Axe, and realized there was a stimuli that really was invisible to me). I could talk a lot about lack of smell, but not in this post, because while that was the first atypical mind characteristic I identified in myself, it is far less impactful than Aphantasia. 

Aphantasia is described as “a condition where one does not possess a functioning mind's eye and cannot visualize imagery”. This describes my life experiences very well: I cannot recall or construct mental imagery, even slightly. To demonstrate this, I usually ask people to close their eyes and imagine a square. (Feel free to do so now, and lock the image in your head if you wish). I then ask questions like “What color is the square?” “What color is the background?” “How big is it, relative to your field of view?”, and people generate answers based on the square they imagined. I am always fascinated by these responses; if you perform the experiment and reblog, I’d love to see (either in reblog text or tags) the details of your square.

There is no square in my head. If you ask me to imagine a square, I see no image, only the concept of a 4-sided regular polygon. If you then ask me “what color it is”, I can pick a color at random (or one of my favorites), but the true answer is “None”; there’s no square to have a color. My thoughts and memories exist only as text, with webs of association and observation attached. If I’m asked to remember what something looked like, all that I can retrieve is thoughts that describe the thing I’ve seen, or facts that I know about it, if any. 

Observant readers might notice that while the title of this post is “Darkness and Silence”, so far all that’s been discussed is the inability to visualize. Something that I hadn’t realized until very recently is that Aphantasia is more general than the name implies, at least for me (and others online by anecdote). I can’t directly recall any sensory input from memory, or create sensory input-like experiences ex nihilo. I can’t imagine or recall any sound, taste, touch, or even pain, all of which I have heard other people tell me they can do. From my point of view, it feels unbelievable and incredible that people can do this, and it is hard not to be jealous of that ability. Inside my head, it is dark, silent, still.

Aphantasia is not an inability to receive sensory input: i can still see/hear/etc, and describe what i’m experiencing. It is also not the inability to store sensory input at all, because I can recognize things that I’ve heard and seen before, and after recognizing them I can access details that I wouldn’t have been able to before (this comes up most often in music and other time-component experiences). Additionally, I can dream, and my dreams include images that I saw while awake, which means that the information is stored, just not directly retrievable. My dreams are all very visual, and have other sensory components as well. However, memory of the contents of dreams evaporate almost immediately: since I’m not awake to fully process what I’m seeing, all that gets ‘stored’ is fleeting bits of information, and the emotional state it ended in.

According to the data I’ve seen (which was of limited quality, since Aphantasia is very understudied), visualization and image recall ability vary a great deal from person to person: eidetic or “photographic” memory at the high end, and Aphantasia at the very other. The only place I’ve seen offering stats suggests that the incidence rate is around 2-5%, but the actual numbers could be very different: if I had read slightly different blogs or made slightly different friends, I never would have known!

Going through life without noticing that you have Aphantasia is incredibly easy: people have been doing it for probably longer than recorded history. There just isn’t a lot of evidence that would cause the casual observer to notice the problem: it’s really easy to excuse descriptions of a “mind’s eye” or discussions of visualization as flowery descriptions of the Aphantasia-equivalent skills that fill the gaps, and to just assume that the other variances are just weird quirks, because they don’t feel connected; without the central problem pointed out, it’s just an unlinked set of “things I appear to suck at”.

For me, the biggest observable was memory, and particularly what I called “raw memorization” growing up. I am good at remembering things I understand conceptually, but there are times when information (a chart, dates, a list of names in order, a paragraph of text) just needs to be stored for recall. I am terrible at this! I can manage, if the information is in the form of bindable text (Examples of bindable text are hard to give: a catchy phrase or good song lyrics are bindable, but a list of names and dates are not). If I need to memorize a chart or set of data I don’t get conceptual links from, I don’t really have a long-term solution. In school, I would design a compression system to convert the information into a sentence, reread the sentence over and over right before the test, and write it down as the test started. Then I’d (hopefully) remember my decompression, and manually draw out the info I need. 

I was always quick to take pride in my mental abilities, so when I realized that I was extremely bad at memorization, I tried to learn to train it. And what I found was... advice on memory palaces, a technique for mapping specific memories to specific parts of an imaginary landscape. There were a lot of variations on this, but everything I read basically boiled down to “Step 1. Unfold your wings. Step 2. Practice flapping until you’ve built up enough muscle to fly”; the basic ability required to use the technique was something that it is literally impossible for my brain to do.

And, weirdly enough, this still wasn’t enough evidence to make me figure it out. I got angry and frustrated with advice like this, and eventually quit bitterly, concluding that it was snake oil stuff, or memorization couldn’t really be taught meaningfully, but there were people who were very good at it and thought they could teach it. I gave up on improving and (for the most part) avoided classes and situations where that kind of memorization would be a necessary skill. It took me reading about the original experiment to even consider that I might have it, and over two year’s worth of idle thoughts, research, and conversations with ordinary people about their sensory recall for me to really start to understand just how different (and... diminished) my experiences are.

Aphantasia impacts my life in several ways, almost all of them negatively. I can’t conjure up stimuli to stave off boredom, or crowd out intrusive thoughts. I can’t listen to music in my head (though i can hum or sing it subvocally). I can’t compare 2 images without seeing them side by side. It takes me a lot of exposure to learn enough about a face to describe it, or tell it apart from a similar one. I won’t remember licence plates, too many different passwords, or the birthdays and ages of the people I care about. I get lost very easily, and can’t remember directions well, or make adjustments that deviate meaningfully from the path. Without GPS, I will frequently take a route that is 5 or 10 minutes longer if the alternative is something less familiar or easier to miss turns on.

Gaming is an important part of my life, and Aphantasia does not spare me there, either. It’s easy for me to get hopelessly lost in any game without a good map or obvious landmarks/anchors; I get turned around and spend a lot of time backtracking. Being attacked by something I’m not looking at is terrifying; while I do have object permanence, I can’t visualize my surroundings or keep track of positions that I can’t see. This experience is awful enough that I will almost never play games that regularly cause it. (Overwatch and other pvp shooters, but also many types of single player horror games). Being unable to recall images also poses problems in myst style adventure or puzzle games, although screenshots are a good way to cheat at this. 

To be fair to Aphantasia, there are times that being unable to recall stimulus is useful. I am extremely visually squeamish on several axes (gore, blood, disfigured people, distorted / warped visuals of people), and this would be a much bigger problem if I could recall that kind of image. Similarly, I can’t get songs stuck in my head; until a few days ago, I hadn’t really understood what it meant to have a song stuck in your head. Idle thoughts often remind me of a note progression that i then hum out or think about, but this never really bothered me that much, and I had been lowkey confused about how much it appeared to bother other people, until I learned it was a completely different experience for them. And lastly, the details of my nightmares quickly fade, which limits how upsetting they can be.

But I won’t end on that note, because it would feel like lying. I hate Aphantasia. I hate that my brain is so broken. I hate that I can’t do these things that are so basic for so many people. I hate that I’ll never be able to develop these skills or experience these things. but more than anything, i hate being trapped in my head nothing but my thoughts; i hate that all that it is to be me is a fragile flow of words on a backdrop of terrifying emptiness, of darkness and silence.

[luckychrm]

The Mystery Guest

AO3 | FF This was partially inspired by a small convertation I had with @cakeezz, this afternoon and the last part was inspired by this post by @thewonderfulwizardofass. So I’ll just leave this here for you. Hope you like it! (I’m sorry if it looks sloppy and is full of grammar mistakes, but i literally wrote this at 5am with the help of some mugs of coffee with milk because I wouldn’t go to bed until i had this written lmao)

He was a mysterious guest. Nobody had ever seen him, knew who he was, what he did for a living or why he had been invited to this marriage, except for the bride and groom. Actually they could thank this guest, because he was one of the reasons why they were marrying.

                                                               *

"Céline, could you remind me, again, who's that old man standing there?" Nathalie asked her friend. If Nathalie and Céline could describe their friendship in the past months with one sentence, it would definitely be that question. Of course that for Nathalie's clarification, her friend's answer remained the same.

"Oh, I already told you Nath! He is Fu, my osteopath. And you should try one day, because he's really good at it! At least my pain in the back is gone!" 

She wasn't really lying. Céline had asked Fu to help her with her back, twice. So technically he was her osteopath. But she couldn't tell her friend that Fu was also the one who made her turn into Le Papillon, one of the two people that was part of the famous superhero duo that saved Paris streets from crime. Besides being breaking that identity rule (that she already broke), if she decided to reveal herself, Céline was sure that Nathalie wouldn't take her seriously and joke with her forever or she would believe and peacefully install the chaos among the guests and then all over the city. So as long as the osteopath excuse sticked, everything was safe.

"He must be really good as a person and as an osteopath, for you to invite him! It's not everyday that you invite a doctor, if we can call him that, for your marriage." She said, somehow sarcastically. Nathalie was no fool. She believed partially in her best friend's words. But her other side was screaming that what she had heard was absolutely wrong and made no sense.

"Oh Nathalie, my dear, if you knew the whole story you would understand why we invited him!" 

"And may I know the whole story?"

"You could, but If I told you, then I had to kill you." Céline said with a hint of suspense in her voice and then she just laughed as if it was nothing. "I'm kidding silly! I would never kill my best friend!"

"Yeah I understood, captain obvious!" Nathalie replied and by now it was nearly impossible for her to hide all the curiosity that her best friend made her feel with that speech.

 Of course that Gabriel Agreste was trapped in this curse, too. His best man had been haunting him with questions about Fu since the ceremony started. 

"Who is he? Why did you invited him? I mean, you already told that he helped Céline and that she really likes him, but was it really necessary?" Leo made this questions too quickly for Gabriel to process them. And the only thing that Leo could achieve with his excitement was Gabriel's annoyance.

"Look, we both wanted him to be here today. And Céline really likes him. Her wishes are orders and if she wanted him to come, we invited him over. Now stop questioning, Leo. Curiosity killed the cat." He really liked Leo. It was one of the few friends he had, but sometimes Leo got carried away and become excited which made him look like and eight year old in the questioning age. When that happened, Leo could be the most annoying person ever.

"Okay, okay I will stop! But I really wanted to know what makes you two so fond of him!?" As Nathalie, he was also pretty curious and eager to break the mystery around this man. Both believed in what their friends told them, but some pieces didn't fit right in the puzzle.

"That Léo, that will be something that you will never know. And if you do, one day, I just hope that I can run away from you as fast as I can." Gabriel replied calmly. He already thought that Le Paon suit was ridiculous on its own, so he was pretty sure that he didn't need Leo to find out that he was the one wearing it. That would be even more ridiculous, and embarrassing. He could like the respect and admiration that he received while wearing it, but he didn't like to imagine how people would react when they found that he was Le Paon. In the eyes of the society, he wasn't the reflex of a superhero and he was aware of it.

"Why do you say that?" Leo asked.

"No more questions, remember?"

                                                               *

The party went on and a bit before the dinner was served, Fu approached the newlyweds. He carried a small gift and an apologetic look, which made Céline slightly anxious. Before any of then could ask what was going on, Fu decided to answer to whatever was going through their minds.

"I know it's your big day and that all you want to do is to stay here and share your happiness with your friends and family but..."

Céline cut him through his sentence, as if she read his mind.

"We've got to go right? Or at least one of us, because it would be too weird if both if us left our own wedding."

"Yeah, that it."

"Okay so I'll be going then!" Céline said determined.

"No, you won't honey. And that's not a request." Gabriel said demandingly.

"But Gabriel! I can handle the thing by myself!" She protested.

"I know you can, but that's not the problem. And besides that, it would be more discreet if I left."

As much as she wanted to protest more, Gabriel had a point and, she had to agree that he was right.

"Okay, but take care! I don't want you back with a black eye or something that I won't be able to explain." 

"Don't worry. When you notice, I'll be right here by your side." They kissed goodbye and Céline was left alone with Fu. Gabriel left quickly making sure nobody saw him go away.

"So what's that?" She pointed to the small gift and made a grimace.

"Well, that's my gift to you but I'll only give it when Gabriel comes back and no one is around."

"But you know that it wasn't necessary to bring a gift!"

"But I insist on bringing one."

                                                            * 

Céline and Fu made the possible and the impossible to delay the dinner but the guests were starting to be hungry and annoyed. They were covering Gabriel for twenty minutes now.

"Go big or go home." Céline said to herself and giving up, she thought of a quick excuse and decided to bring the dinner. As she expected, everybody noticed Gabriel's absence and the guests started to create small rumors about where he could be.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable with all the buzz ,Céline stood up and hit with her fork in the glass making sure that all the attention was directed at her. As soon as everybody calmed down, she spoke.

"I know that this may sound bad but Gabriel had to leave due to... unexpected business problems! You may know how he is, fashion can't wait! But he'll back in as soon as he can! So we'll have to start dinner whit out him! Bon appétit!"

She sat quickly and started to play with her napkin so she didn't need to stare at the guests that somehow looked disappointed. She couldn't blame them, though. But nobody said that being a superhero was easy and she knew that the truth had to be kept as a secret. Just because of that she decided to accept her fate to wait for her husband with dozens of people that were capable to eat him alive, as soon as he stepped into the room again. 

                                                            *

By the end of the evening , almost all guests had left and Fu was still there, sat on his table, waiting for the perfect moment to talk properly to the newlyweds and give them his gift. They were saying goodbye to the last guests when he approached them. When he was sure that they were alone, he spoke to them.

"Congratulations! First of all, I want to say that I was right about you two and secondly I want to thank everything you've done for Paris. If it wasn't you, this city would be chaotic. I also want to forgive for the inconvenient and I know that it was unfair. I'm really happy that you two are finally togheter." Fu was a man of few words and usually what he said used to be right. So Gabriel and Céline were satisfied with his small speech. They even chuckled when he said that he was right about them, because it was true and there was no way to deny it. Then he just sighed and looked at Céline. "An osteopath? Really? I thought you could get something better than that!"

She just broke into laughter as she heard him with that tiny bit of disappointment on his voice. It was impossible to hold back, that man was hilarious on his own.

"I'm sorry, but it was the only thing I could think of! I promise I'll work on a better excuse!"

He smiled at her and then he looked back at the gift that he was holding.

"So I guess it's finally the time to give you this. It's nothing big as you can see but I hope that it means that much to you as it means to me." 

"You know it wasn't necessary. Your presence here is already a gift." Gabriel said.

"I've told him the same thing when you left, but he insisted on bringing a gift."

Fu looked at them and just gave away the small package. He examined the look on their faces as they opened it.

The gift was nothing more than a photo of the three of them in one of their first missions. They were transformed and that's why he didn't want to give it when everybody was there, it would be too risky. On the back, it had the date and place where the photo was taken and a small note that they preferred to read later.

Now it was Fu's turn to laugh. Their faces were showing so many emotions at the same time that they seemed expressionless. The photo, as Fu had predicted, meant a lot to them because it marked the beginning of some new phases of their lifes. By far this gift was the best they had received.

"Thank god you liked it! I was afraid that I had to exchange it for a sketchbook or something."  Fu said, breaking them from the short transe that they had been.

"How... How did we came from that to this!" Céline looked stunned at both men. "I mean, I couldn't stand you back then. You were just so annoying, Gabriel! And you looked ridiculously good!"

"I wouldn't trade this for any sketchbook, I'm sorry." He replied to Fu, with a chuckle. He turned back to Céline, ready to 'counterattack' her. "And you, you were stubborn as a mule. You wanted everything to be your way, otherwise no deal. But we've grown up since and we're not those reckless kids anymore. And wait! Are you flirting?"

"Yes, I agree with you." She gave him a small smile but then her expression turned into something incredulous. “No Gabriel, I’m singing a song! What do you think?” They all laughed at the sarcastic response of Céline.

Memory after memory, the three reminded nearly every moment that they've passed together as superheroes. The good and bad moments, the funny and embarrassing, the annoying and sad. They were all part of an history that would be marked forever on their lifes and on Paris history as well.

Unfortunately, as good as it was being reminding everything, Fu was feeling tired and he wanted to leave.

"Age doesn't forgive and I'm afraid I have to leave." He said sadly.

"We totally understand." Gabriel replied. "Are you sure you don't need us to take you back home?"

"No! I am old but I can still walk on my own!" Fu replied defensively.

"Who am I to talk, then!" 

"Thank you for inviting me. It was very good and I am glad that you've thought of me." 

When Gabriel was about to answer Fu, Céline pushed the two of them into a tight hug.

"Thank you for everything you've done for me, and for us. We will never forget you and what you've done, not even in a million years."

Tears formed in her eyes. She meant every word she said and she was truly grateful for everything because if it wasn't for this guest, nothing of this would have happened.

[stupidpianist]

16 october 2018

08:00: Turned off alarm, “forced self” not to go back to sleep immediately by thinking, “if you win this battle, you’ll start the day off with a victory, not a defeat,” realizing the latter part of this sentence was redundant, but unable to stop myself from thinking it anyways.

Apologizing to all my “liveblog fans” for the low quality liveblog yesterday, was still feeling very under the weather for almost the entire day. After the last update, I lay down in bed, thinking I was just going to “rest my body a little,” and then, like, literally a second after I lay down, I fell into the deepest nap, which lasted just under four whole hours. I guess my body was a lot more exhausted than I thought?? Regardless, the day felt distinctly “over” after that nap, so I looked at things on the internet (music reviews, YouTube, you know, “the usual”) until around midnight, showered, fell asleep again at one am. Feeling good about that, that I got so much sleep yesterday, like, so much.

Might explain why I woke feeling refreshingly “refreshed” for the first morning in a long time. Still coughing A LOT, but definitely feel a bit less sick than yesterday.

08:10: Turned off alarm for second time after lying in bed with eyes closed, sometimes alternating to eyes open, staring blankly at ceiling. Turned to my side and checked phone, which I keep charging on the nightstand to the right of my bed (the right if you’re lying down on it, not facing it). Briefly checked Facebook, Instagram, skimmed news headlines, checked weather.

08:12: On Tuesdays and Thursdays I have to make an 8:30 class in “McMed,” the medical building situated near the base of one of the ways to get up Mount Royal, so it’s a bit of a trek, and it’s a good twenty-plus minute walk from my apartment. I’ve found that if I power walk, I can get there in around seventeen minutes, depending on how long my strides are. So I need to “hustle,” gotta “hustle my butt to class,” gotta “push my butt up that hill.” Glad the weather is feeling like autumn, but the temperature is, characteristic for Montreal, “dropping rapidly” already… I fear it won’t be “sweater weather” for much longer...

Stood from bed, then, in an “extremely efficient manner,” I feel, in fluid, unstopping motion, put on brown corduroy pants, black short-sleeve t-shirt, flannel over shirt, “bunny sweater” over flannel, filled water kettle with water, set it to boil, went into the bathroom to “assess the situation” of how I looked, splashed water on face and hair, brushed teeth, placed yerba mate bag in mug, poured hot water in mug, put on boots, then sipped from almost-too-hot mate while taking a selfie of me sipping from it to put on Instagram story. Thought, “nice, nice, good job,” while stepping out apartment, knowing I would make it to class on time, and that I was atypically feeling ungroggy, though also a bit dim and unmotivated, though also unstressed, probably a result of the emotional stunting effects I always feel when I have a cold.

08:34: “Made it” with a minute to spare. Sitting in the furthest back row of the large lecture hall. Hey, between you and me, this is actually the first lecture in this psych stats class that I’m going to sit “all the way through.” I know what you’re thinking, please don’t think it, because I already am. I’m such a terrible student, I know, and I’m wasting so much money. The professor for this class is so efficient, and also so empathetic; she took a break partway through the lecture to ask us humorous questions from an old survey given to Americans, like, twenty years ago, including things like: “do you put on your socks and shoes in the order sock-shoe-sock-shoe, or sock-sock-shoe-shoe,” and “do you twirl your spaghetti when you eat it, or do you cut it into pieces?” I laughed “heartily” when nobody raised their hand for sock-shoe-sock-shoe. That order does seem hellish, to a significant degree, to me, at least, though the actual survey of Americans two decades ago said that around a third put their feet-things on in the order sock-shoe-sock-shoe. What the hell.

Got first assignment back and laughed again when the TA who graded it didn’t give me points for the question which I knew I answered inefficiently, though I wrote next to my answer, “I know this is, like, the least efficient way of solving this, but I am so tired please cut me some slack.” Worth the loss of points, in my opinion. At least it gives the graders something to laugh about through the endless hours of mindless marking? In my English midterm last semester, I just rewrote all the questions I didn’t know the answer to, to things that I could actually answer, like, I’d change “Name three German Romantic poets who influenced…” by crossing out “German” and writing in “English,” then writing the answer to the new question I created.

Found myself “pleasantly enjoying” this lecture, but still finding “complete lack of enthusiasm” in knowing I’d have to finally force myself back into the practice rooms to “tickle the ivories” after not touching them for three days as a result of debilitating cold. Picturing Sylvester Stallone saying “this… is not gonna be fun” in his usual gruff delivery, then grimacing slightly, and standing up from previously seated position.

09:49: Thinking, “onto the practice rooms,” while walking to practice rooms. Weather feels “brisk,” like a Subaru commercial. Thoughts while walking: -Going to start referring to eating/drinking as “taking things to the face” -Would people really not wear ripped underwear? re: another survey question asked in class -Maybe I need to “get caffeinated” before practicing, need to update liveblog anyways -Dude vaping Juul-like device, remembering that Juuls are now officially shipping in Canada, except Quebec -Cannabis is going legal in one day here, seems so surreal

Making decision to stop at Tim Hortons on the way to “take a large coffee to the face.”

10:04: Holy crap the line at Tims is almost “out the door,” there’s no way I’m gonna wait for a coffee, heading to Java U instead.

10:10: Mission successful. Large light roast coffee in hand, chosen over dark because of its higher caffeine content. Chose maple milk to put in for the first time ever, feeling “cheery” and “full of grins.” Gonna drink it while updating liveblog in music library, then practice.

10:46: Hey, what’s up, I’m just finishing up today’s first liveblog update!! Now I’m going to post it!! Then I’m going to walk to the practice rooms and practice for a few hours!! Today is going well, I hope your day is going well too! Wow!! I’m thinking the word “wow” a lot today! Wow!!! Here’s some more Kero Kero Bonito lyrics to brighten up your day if it’s going bad, or make it even brighter if it’s going well!! I love you! 

I got so much time today I got hopes and dreams and plans all yet to be made So look out the way 'Cos I'm coming through now I got something to do And I'll try As I might To keep up with the light 'Til I'm into bed for the night

I got so much more to say I got books and tapes and canvas bearing the weight But they're not arranged 'Cos it takes too long and I'm still moving on But I don't Even know Where I should be trying to go So I guess I'll follow my nose

And I can't help but think about If the sun ever stays down Will I notice or will I Just be sitting around Ticking a list off Rueing what I said wrong But dawn still greets my windowpanes And as long as I shall Wake up in the morning I got plans

I got so much time today I got so much time today I got so much time today I got so much time

13:40: Okay, so, a good almost-three-hour session. My hands felt like mush for the first hour-and-a-half, which was expected, but after going through the Beethoven and part of the Alkan, they felt strangely not as bad as I thought they would. Feel like I was “hyper-focused” for the first ⅔ of the session, and then only “sort-of focused” for the final third, but it was overall really nice.

Feeling skeptical at how smoothly today is going… Where’s the catch? What’s going on? Something bad is brewing on the horizon, isn’t it… Oh heavens look, it’s me thinking pessimistically again, I’m really not a pessimistic person, why do I keep doing this. Have to “reel in” this sort of behaviour. Today is going well and I’m putting in effort towards having a productive day, and sometimes that effort aligns with chance events that cumulate to a smooth, sometimes even “good” day, that’s all, right?

Gonna “call it” on this session, feeling energy/focus storage for piano “depleted.” Feeling semi-proud of myself for making it to nearly three hours without feeling “depleted” earlier, usually my sessions are most productive capped at two hours, and then if I try to continue I end up wasting more time than I actually use practicing. Might return to the practice room again today before going home, I really should be doing at the very least four hours, but maybe I’ll keep today at three hours, just because starting up again after a few days of not practicing and immediately jumping back to four-plus hours might be a little hard on the tendons/joints?? Is that just me making excuses for myself? I’ll see how I feel after my next class, I guess.

Walking to McLennan now to study a bit, see ya soon.

13:54: At workstation in Cybertheque. Weird “phasing” effect going on in my head right now, like, sounds are slightly off-balance? Not that they’re louder in one ear than the other, like, sounds sound dizzy to me, right now, if that makes any sense… I’m not describing this well…

Stomach in a bit of pain, a result of having coffee on an empty stomach and not eating anything yet today. Maybe I’ll get something cheap before class starts at 17h. Yeah, I think that would be the best option… Don’t think I’ll “last” til the end of class if I don’t. Do I go get food now, and then try and study?? That seems like a waste of time going back-and-forth so much, maybe I’ll try to “tough it out.” Yeah, okay, that seems the best option, gonna start studying now, wish me luck.

14:27: Oh no, oh no, seems impossible to “scrounge up” the motivation needed to study effectively, I’m just reading more on Ghost right now, this is bad, this is bad, don’t do this to yourself. Maybe this can be counted as the “study break” between practicing and studying?? Maybe I just won’t be able to get any studying done during this little chunk of time? I’m fine with that, I’m fine with that, I think… Still have time after class ends at 17:30 to study, can always study at home, “in the comfort” of my “tiny abode.” Shoot shoot shoot why didn’t I bring Knausgaard with me, now I don’t even have any reading material. Oh! Oh! I can read Megan’s Liveblog from my phone!! Yes yes okay, perhaps I’ll just “nip on out” for some food, then, and then head directly to class? That might work…