#such introspection. why its not even my birthday.

[istherewifiinhell]

I did not sleep. I had thoughts about language apparently

Part of me feels that readablilty is an important. Compotent in my. Not endeavour persay but. Offering of words of which ppl can feel free to read. Well it would serve me and others best if they were. Readily intelligible. If not. A blatent acess issue cause i dont really want to pin. My acess with language against. Others to read it. Just feels like a no win.

But also. Coming down on something like. The things im doing arent. Inherently worth less when. Im worse at them? I mean like okay. Editing. Its a thing. I can do it. And. Half the time im really just not looking at what im typing. Or. Even in the middle of something else. So i might look at it again and. Ouh bouy. Those are not the words i thought they were. But I do also have a bit of a. Image problem with myself specifically with self presentation. And well. Eh. Sometimes im gonna post some shit [ayyyyy] and there will be. Errors in it. But it doesnt mean i dont have an overall meaning. Im conveying.

And. Frankly. If theres anything we all know. There is not a linear relationship to. Time spend and attention received. So. Who even give a fuck. There are things i care to spend the time to best hone my language and organize my sentences. Things that i think are often complex enough to really shine from that added attention. And well. They usually still will have a hand full of missing words or typos. But also.

READ MY WORDS BOY (GN)!!! They are implying many things even if. My god its probably getting muddied or else. Must be muddled through.

[physalian]

On "immersion" in narrative

I should be relaxing today taking a victory lap because my book is finally live on sale, woo!

But I have this to say first, in the realm of “you can’t please everyone”. I am not a reader who enjoys extremely fluffy narrative, not “fluff” as in “feel good cotton candy stuff” but as in “300 words of describing the layout of a bedroom” fluff. I don’t like when the pacing moves as slow as molasses, not for introspection, but for telling about every little thing that happens in the story no matter how irrelevant it is to the story or its characters.

I had a beta reader for ENNS who left at least 20 comments across my narrative asking for all this extra material because my book felt too lean. I had a birthday party for a side character’s newborn daughter, when the side character herself was never even named. The plot takes place in a castle, and, shocker, the castle isn’t only populated by Main Characters.

It was just the inciting incident of the chapter that got my characters staged in the right location and the right mindset (happy fun birthday party, sourpuss self-saboteur protagonist is really missing out).

But she’d left me a comment asking for probably at least an extra 500-700 words of details about this party. She wanted to know about the food that was served, what everybody was wearing, what music they were listening to. She wanted to have actual dialogue between the new mother and some important character, some comment about life and death and parallels, and wanted all these details about a three-day-old newborn baby.

I deleted that comment. And every other comment like it.

Why? She is not my target audience and was my only beta with such notes, but also, even if this was that kind of book, she failed to understand what, I think, counts as meaningful to the narrative. That baby only showed up maybe twice in the book. The mother, like I said, never named.

The point of the party was simply “hey happy times exist in this place that you hate, Protagonist”. Spending paragraphs upon paragraphs on a little narration side quest to give you irrelevant details that don’t advance either the plot, the worldbuilding (there were other parties where I described the clothes and food and music), the important characters’ thoughts, feelings, goals, or conflicts, at the cost of keeping the pacing more consistent would have been superfluous.

And that party in of itself was fluff. I was following through on the set up of a pending newborn, spent time describing how a castle full of immortal vampires who don’t have to sleep can crochet baby clothes for a week straight and now this baby has far more clothes than she could ever hope to wear before she grows out of them. I had my narrator, a vampire, comment on how much he likes these events because new life is so rare in this bleak setting. I spent a few sentences describing the baby herself, and then he left to continue the story, taking talk of the party to the pissy protagonist and going “buddy you are allowed to have fun and meet the baby and your attitude is really getting old.”.

500 words might not sound like a lot, but she had asked for these extra paragraphs constantly. She argued it was for immersion.

The thing is.

I don’t like superfluous fluff, but I do like fluff in moderation. I don’t think any one element that takes up more than two sentences or so should exist for one sole, niche purpose. Meaning: You want to toss in a detail about a supporting character’s woodturning hobby? Great! You want to spend two whole paragraphs going on a tangent about this hobby that never comes up again and isn’t actually that important to the character? Why?

This is not to say that I think all books should be lean, this is just what I like. I don’t have the attention span to sit around waiting for the plot the author forgot about so I can read a whole page about the kingdom’s irrelevant potato farming practices. I do have time for a couple sentences about the irrelevant potatoes. I do have time to read a whole page about the kingdom’s potatoes if it’s setup for a potato famine.

There are ways to be immersive without overkill. All this counts as exposition—establishing details that set up your world and your story—and what she was asking for was a series of exposition dumps, several of which were redundant.

As a writer, I work very hard to give expository details as they become necessary. I won’t describe the dresses at a party until my narrator has time to thoughtfully comment on said dresses at said party—which he did. He came from a place that didn’t have dresses, much less lavish parties, and criticized the castle’s hedonistic opulence. He wasn’t plotting his escape, stopping mid-thought to tell the reader about the costumes, and then carrying on.

I could have waxed poetic all day as well-constructed and seamlessly as I could to work in those details to try and make them matter, but a) that would be rehashing the ‘hedonistic opulence’ and b) it really, truly, did not matter.

Would a reader like her enjoy my book? Eh, probably not. Would a reader like me enjoy her book? Eh, probably not.

There is plenty of room in libraries and on bookstore shelves for “lazy river” style books where the whole point is reading about as many details as the author can cram between the pages and there really isn’t a plot, it’s more about the setting and the relationships. Can’t mess up the pacing with an exposition dump if there is no pacing. Not my kind of story.

Doesn’t make either of us bad writers. She will have her audience and I have mine. I only argue for details that serve a purpose, and if that purpose is a solitary and weak one, then that’s not enough for me.

[ranticore]

Chapter 3 - To Be Phocid [Qedivar's research]

It's that time again. Ishmael is a teenage boy, fair warning.

I'm posting this on mobile so I cba linking the previous chapters but go into the siren tag to find them.

x

Following these events, and at Maris’s insistence, Ishmael began to keep a journal. To the delight of this author, his writing was deep, introspective, and highly detailed. From now on, I no longer had to rely on pieced together scraps and reports, but from a primary source. As such, the way these events are related will shift a little, but that is only for events concerning Ishmael.

Cherta, unfortunately, did not keep a journal at this time and remains frustratingly opaque, given Ishmael’s somewhat biased recounting of their activities. Although one must concede to the difficulties of keeping a journal underwater, before the age of sub-aquatic writing systems, and with eighteen other overambitious adolescents in relatively close proximity.

Ishmael’s journal was recorded on a computerified device and was not written by hand, though his deep dream education had serviced to educate him in handwriting skills. This was tested when he was younger, as part of an evaluation to determine the extent of his dexterity. Although the notion of a form of writing which is stored in a purely hypothetical space is very odd, especially in its permanency, it has enabled us to access his thoughts at this day and age, whereas traditional aquatic knot-writing would have long since rotted away.

He wrote in the language of the Predecessors, which I believe to be the root of all air-speaking language families. The translation of these texts is what has taxed me more than any other part of this process, aside from the grievous bodily harm, and it has taken a fantastic span of time to achieve this translation. I cannot credit my sources for fear of implicating them but you can be assured that the finest minds of the Spire collaborated on this project. This Predecessor tongue is what is spoken in all of the videos, enabling me to learn it to a conversational level, though I am hardly fluent.

Some of the journal is rendered untranslatable due to it referring to objects or concepts which were considered common knowledge at the time, requiring no additional definition. These concepts or objects will be clearly marked. However, I believe much of the text to be familiar to many people, telling of the frustration and longing common and recognisable today. That said, I believe it is also important not to take for granted the relatability.

Ishmael is not always familiar to us and existed in a time we would find nigh incomprehensible. Do not take this as reason to doubt his interiority or personhood, and do not fall into the trap of believing that you would have done better in his place, that you would have seen clearly what he obviously did not (and had good reason not to). They may have been phocids, or the predecessors of phocids, but they were new. If you were the first of your kind, could you do better?

I will now present the text in chronological order, starting from the eve of his sixteenth birthday:

-

Entry 1 – I hate seeing that baby siphonid. It’s still moving. It drags itself around on the leg the researchers didn’t take. Now I’m just going to remember this forever, since I wrote it down. Great. I hate that fucking noise. Why can’t they just get it to shut up?

Thank [deity]. They took it away.

Update – it didn’t even taste good.

-

Entry 2 - Maris told me to talk more about my feelings. What does she know? Nobody understands me anyway. I don’t think they can feel all that on their face like me. The sipho noise kept touching me. The researchers are always talking about hydrofoils and antennae but I bet they don’t know what I do - how the siphos talk to each other. I told Callum and he didn’t know what I meant, even though he has a beard.

Talked to Lee again about sex since Dan said he wouldn’t tell me himself. I don’t think Lee told the truth about a lot of that stuff. The other kids sometimes joke around a bit too much, but it is kinda funny I guess.

Update - Dan shouted at me for asking, but now I have proof Lee was wrong.

-

Entry 3 – The phocids click at each other underwater with their tongues.

Dan got so angry after I pulled my face hair out. He made the interns [untranslatable] search my room for the hairs and they actually found them. They didn’t even do anything with it, just put it in a bag and sealed it away. Looks like nobody wants it at all. Dan says Atom spent 120 billion nua making me, so I think one face hair is worth a few million. If I started selling them to the people outside the lab, I could buy my own stake of land on Siren just like them. I wouldn’t let Lee in. My fingers are probably worth a couple billion each.

Should I

-

Entry 4 – Emer (the intern) looked at me like I did something wrong when she changed my pillowcases.

Spilled bile EVERYWHERE when they were testing me. I keep thinking about somehow saving it and trying to sell it. I’m supposed to be a digestive model for Siren food, so my insides are probably worth a lot. I should ask Dan when he calms down.

Callum came around to talk to Dan again. He’s getting really tall, he’s taller than me now even when I stand up straight. He’s so skinny, like the baby siphonids (I can snap one in half with just my teeth now). When Callum was there, he didn’t want to look at me, but I get it. They didn’t even cook the siphonid this time, it was raw and with the shell on. His leg is the same width as one of them.

Emer won’t stop changing my pillowcases. Is there a way to prevent them from smelling like that?? Callum hasn’t been around so I can’t ask. Maris thinks it’s just because people my age start getting sweaty but Dan specifically told me he made me not have sweat glands anywhere but my hands. Then he said the phocids do have sweat glands. I still don’t get the point of sweating if you’re already a stupid wet rat who lives in the

-

Entry 5 – I’m seventeen now. Since I’m an adult, I decided to stop being reticent around the phocids. I want to know if they found a comfortable way to walk without the skin coming off their tails. So I went to talk to them today for the first time. There is a window where you can do it, they let it open ever since the climate control got busted again last month.

Cherta is really weird. I knew they couldn’t stay in the pool for very long because they might have a seizure but apparently it can happen any time, not just underwater. They have a button implant that makes their muscles relax. Anyway, their tails have thicker skin than mine so that was useless. But it is still worthwhile, I think, to meet with the phocids. They remind me why I am a human, and they are not. I kind of pity them because all they're ever going to be is a bunch of test subjects in a tiny swimming pool.

Cherta told me that one of the phocids died a year ago. I don’t remember Dan ever talking about it to me, but they said it was a big deal. Apparently they got pressure sickness when climate control broke the first time. I think Cherta broke it the second time, they sounded too proud to mention it. I don’t get it. Anyway, breaking stuff in the lab is against the rules and I think I’m going to tell Dan about that.

-

Entry 6 – I made the right choice. Cherta got so angry when they found out I told on them that they had another seizure. The other phocids had to pull them out of the pool. Dan thought I did the right thing but I don’t think he liked me going to tell Cherta about it afterwards, told me no one likes a snitch. Well, then, what am I supposed to do? Just let it happen? I hope Cherta chokes on that gross pool water next time.

Dan suggested I go do something other than visit the phocids and I agree, they’re clearly not worth my time. I went to see Callum instead but he wasn’t in. He has a games console, I saw him show it off to Lee the other day. I wonder if he’d let me try it.

[End of Journal Entries]

-

It paints an interesting picture. As Ishmael mentions, Cherta suffered permanent neurological issues as a result of their birth mishaps. This was a point of contention within the lab, beyond Ishmael’s knowledge; the finance manager of the settlement questioned the wisdom of keeping a test subject in an aquatic locomotion study group who could not spend much time underwater. Every time, however, Dan Loris would respond that Cherta now provided essential information about phocid neurology and drowning mechanisms.

The phocid whose death Ishmael mentions was number seventeen, Ambla. It is highly likely that number seventeen’s death was accidental, but the circumstances were not caused by a failure of the lab’s climate system.

I have found the experimental notes from that day; Ambla was brought to an isolated chamber which was controlled by the climate system, with its own test pool, and the quality of the atmosphere was changed to match that of the Precursor home planet. The force of gravity was thus increased. What the Humans did not expect was Ambla’s sudden inability to swim to the surface. They inhaled water, which settled in their lungs and caused them to drown even after they had been pulled out of the pool.

Dan expressed grief in his notes, and surprise. He did not understand why such a thing would occur and blamed the climate system for somehow altering the test beyond his parameters. This is likely what led to Cherta’s misconception that the climate system had killed one of their friends, and their subsequent sabotage of the climate system every few months after that.

But any phocid or selkie reading this will intimately recognise the problem, and I believe the mystery of Ambla’s death may now be solved. The water taken to fill the pool was likely Tel!am’s Blood, a phenomenon all sea-faring people will know about. The Precursors, it seemed, were unfamiliar with it, and had pumped water in to the pool which nobody could swim in. But with the increased gravity, even the fittest phocid would struggle to rise in shallow water.

Regardless, there exists a substantial gap between that last journal entry and the next. Almost a year, in fact, when Ishmael did not write at all, and neither did he participate in Maris’s therapy sessions. I do, however, have a copy of Callum’s journal with me which provides at least half of the narrative, incomplete as it is.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Rollo-senpai,

First of all, I wish you a happy birthday. May it be a good time for you to reflect and improve even further.

I remember you expressing an interest in some of the books in the library during your past visit of Night Raven College. While it is indeed impossible from your current location to borrow them -- and, more importantly, return them-- I thought it appropriate to give you something along that theme.

So, here is a collection of 11 books, telling the story of the Righteous Judge, in pristine condition. I found it to be an interesting read back when I borrowed them. It is not the edition available in the library, but hopefully it will be to your taste.

On another note, I would like to compete with you in an equestrian race someday.

Give my regards to your vice-president and your aide for me.

Riddle Rosehearts.

If anyone is wondering why Riddle specifically gifted Rollo 11 books, I believe it’s because the original written version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame was contained in 11 volumes of varying lengths. Anon was most likely making a reference to that.

Anyway <3 I love writing passive aggressive dialogue... (It's not much of a fun reaction from Rollo if Riddle isn't actually there, so I decided to change the ask from a letter format to Riddle being present and speaking to him.)

"May it be a good time for you to reflect and improve even further."

Rollo pursed his lips.

Riddle was straightforward with his wishes, but there was no mistaking the underlying sternness to every syllable he strung together. After all, he had been present when the City of Flowers was burning. He and Rollo exchanged strained, knowing looks as the tower of tomes changed possession.

"Thank you for the new reading materials. I've been looking everywhere for this series," the birthday boy said, setting the books down on a nearby table.

He was just as selective with his own choice of words as Riddle was with his. The room and everything in it was glass, and he and Riddle, the occupants tiptoeing to avoid shattering any of it.

"I was not aware that you too had an appreciation for history."

"Of course I do. Learning history is vital to ensuring that we do not repeat the mistakes of our ancestors--or our own blunders," Riddle emphasized. "... I'm certainly no stranger to the concept."

Mistakes?

Rollo bristled.

He didn’t make mistakes. He was staring at one—a miscreant that had toppled his grand plans. Boiling venom rose up.

"How fortunate for you that you have access to Night Raven College's extensive archives," Rollo purred snidely. "You have ample opportunity to study its materials to reflect and improve even further."

Riddle's face collapsed into a frown. "Well! Perhaps it would do you some good to study a bit more yourself."

"Bold words coming from the man who claimed to have the equestrian abilities to outperform me--only to fall short. Now you come back challenging me a second time in hopes of regaining glory. Before making such demands of others, might I suggest partaking in the act of introspection?"

"We were neck-and-neck in dressage, and you know it!!" Riddle snapped, his cheeks heating with anger. "You were no more or less skilled than I! We stood on equal grounds. Next time, I swear to defeat you and demonstrate the strength of Night Raven College's Equestrian Club!!"

"Fufu, I would like to see you try." Rollo smirked, spreading his arms out. To the layman, it may have appeared like an invitation for a hug--but no, Riddle saw it for the taunt it truly was. "I refuse to be defeated by the likes of villains like yourself."

“Villains…!” Riddle huffed. He aggressively shook his head. “I almost feel sympathy for those in your student council. They’re blinded by whatever heavenly light they’re convinced you exude. You are nowhere close to reaching that pinnacle!”

[notoriousbeb]

The My Tears Ricochet Deep Dive

While this song obviously has a clear reference to Taylor’s masters being sold to Scooter Braun in November 2019, I don’t think that’s the full story being told here.

When she released Folklore, Taylor shared via Instagram that “My Tears Ricochet” is about an “embittered tormentor showing up at the funeral of his fallen object of obsession.”

Now, why is she fallen? Because her work has been taken from her. Okay, one question answered. ✅

Now, who is the “embittered tormentor obsessed” with Taylor? Scooter Braun, of course…But see, I actually don’t think it’s that simple. I get why that’s the obvious first choice, though.

(Back story for new kids who don’t know why Scoots is trash: In July 2016, Taylor was outcast and called a snake due to a leaked phone call by Kim Kardashian and her then-husband Kanye West. Scooter was Kanye’s manager. Then Kanye put out the video of the song in question from the call—featuring a naked Taylor lookalike. Then Justin Bieber posted that video to Instagram with a photo showing him on a video call with Scooter and Kanye. The caption said, “Taylor Swift what up.” So, they’re all three supreme douche-canoes of the highest order).

However, I think Scooter’s top priority (as always) in buying Taylor’s masters was simply to make money. And if he pissed her off while doing so, that was probably a delightful bonus. But I wouldn’t say he bought her masters because he was obsessed with her. This deal was nearly three years later, and nothing had popped off between the camps in the interim.

I have more on this tormentor/obsessor/muse, concept; but first, back to Folklore. Upon its release, Taylor also revealed in a YouTube livechat that it was the first song she wrote for the album. And that leads me into a bit of timing discussion.

I think Folklore was the result of a few seismic events in Taylor’s life: a run-in with Harry at Ed’s wedding in December 2018 (which I think helped to spawn his second solo album, Fine Line); followed by talking to him during early quarantine in March 2020 in Los Angeles when the Lover tour got postponed and then cancelled; the pandemic itself pushing her, like many of us, into some serious introspection; and, of course, the sale of her masters to Scooter in 2019.

Since this is the very first song Taylor wrote that ended up on Folklore, my speculation is that perhaps it was penned in those first couple of days of the pandemic, before she reconnected with Harry in LA.

Fine Line would have been newly released—just three months prior—and on her birthday no less.

Which leads me back to the tormentor and obsessor. You know what I might find tormenting, if I were Taylor? If I’d been waiting for this one guy to grow the fuck up for years and then (perhaps after we ran into each other at our good friends’ wedding?), he confessed to me that he still wanted me but, even at 25, he still didn’t have his shit together (please see, “Renegade,” “To Be So Lonely,” and “Peter”).

Then, after I piece myself back together following snake gate, some epic twat who bullied me online back then buys my work out from under me from the guy I thought I had a good working relationship with (Scott Borchetta) and while I’m dealing with that bullshit my ex I’m still pining for releases album on my birthday with songs seemingly about us and how he still wants me.

Yeah, that’d have me plenty tormented. And feeling like, since his first album was also quite “a tip of the cap” to me (his words) as well that, yeah, someone was a little obsessed with me.

So, anyway, the lyrics:

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too

We open at the funeral Taylor told us about. Then referencing a potential cremation. If she’s burning, so is he. Because they’re twin flames? Because they’re so close?

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you ‘Til my dying day

Does this sound like someone talking to either a bully or a former business associate? To me it sounds like a very messy, very difficult, former lover.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

I can see how people could think this was about Scott, but not Scooter. But T herself said this whole thing was about one muse: The embittered obsessor attending her funeral.

Anyway, my take: it’s a lover she couldn’t let go of easily, so it ended messy.

And now he’s out promoting an album full of songs about them, pretending it’s not, because he’s a gentleman. But while he’s acting like she’s nothing to him, they both know what he said to her in private, and what those songs are really about, and no matter how much she cries and waits and wants him to grow up and come get her he just can’t — or won’t.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll means Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

This is a Biblical allusion to Ecclesiastes 3:5: “A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.” I think she’s referring here to an idea revisited again in “loml,” that she thought she’d be safer and maybe get the life she wanted with someone more stable, versus being in a relationship that left her starry eyed, like she was with Harry…and that’s how she wound up with Joe for six years.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene

Ah, would it really be a Haylor lyric breakdown if we weren’t talking about ghosts and haunting at some point? 👻 They obviously haunt one another because they can’t shut up about each other. (Not that I’m complaining!)

Two Ghosts: “We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty.” ....Ready for it?: “Wonder how many girls he loved and left haunted.” Cardigan: “I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs.”

You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

Even while doing the press for Fine Line, H was wearing her ring. Should we talk some more about the Haylor ring? Or burying and graves? Nah. I think these posts sum it up very well.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

I think these lines could be a reference both to things he’s said to her and in his songs about her, particularly the pointed ones. “Lights Up,” for one, which to me, reads like an argumentative back-and-forth about why must things change in a relationship against the backdrop of fame. It also seems to include a tie to “Peter” with “I’m never coming back down,” as compared to “I didn’t want to come down.”

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

And where is home in this case—and so many others? Each other.

And I still talk to you When I'm screaming at the sky And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies

I imagine this is her picturing him listening to her old albums, as she hadn’t done her rerecords yet. Also, again, doesn’t this all seem a bit…intimate and dramatic for a business relationship? Like, picture this moment in the Eras Tour in your mind, please, and tell me with a straight face that you’d sing like this for your former boss. It certainly doesn’t seem like anything you’d say to someone like Scooter. Why would she ever want to talk to him at all?

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

So, this is where we get into the “embittered” part of Taylor’s original description of the song’s muse—the person visiting her funeral. Why is he bitter? Because he lost her. She didn’t stay. Perhaps because his own bad behavior pushed her away. “All the light couldn’t put out the dark running through my heart?” “I know you were way too bright for me. I’m hopeless, broken.” Also, and again, please see, “Renegade,” and “To Be So Lonely,” and “Peter” and also “Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus.”

[torialefay]

Hii, been loving your work with the readings!! If it's not too much to ask could I have a reading with Felix? I have sun in pisces (11th house), ascendant in aries (1st house), moon in virgo (6th house), venus in aquarius (10th house) and my birthday its 21/02/00 (02/21/00) 🥹

I just want to point out how absolutely cute it is that you put your birth dates in both formats bc i am from the states and use month/day/year so it was the most adorable thing i’ve ever seen wow ❤️

Ascendant in Aries (1st house):

With ascendant in Aries, you probably come across on first meeting you as someone who is very sure of themself and independent. You probably also come off as someone who is very passionate or has a strong passion in life (you could even be passionate about living life itself. In some aspect, people probably think on first meeting you that you are very skilled at one or a few areas in particular. In my opinion, Aries Ascendants make great activists, so if there is a cause you are passionate about, definitely consider it!

Since there’s no birth time for Felix, we can’t know his Ascendant, BUT from what I’ve gathered about him, I think he would actually really vibe with your initial energy! I think we all know Felix is a sweet guy, but he also has this sort of “charming?ish” nature to him when first meeting him that can also be mistaken for a subtle confidence. I think he is probably attracted initially to someone who holds a lot of confidence too. Especially looking at your Sun in Pisces, I think it’s fair to say that you will balance that independence with introspection, which would be an alluring quality to Felix.

One more thing to note is that Felix’s moon is in Aries… the Moon being the most subconscious part of yourself. Likely he would be drawn to you/resonate with you initially and he wouldn’t even know why lol.

Sun in Pisces (11th house):

The 11th house is all about our connections, groups we belong to, and how we fulfill our dreams. Having your Sun in Pisces here is a super cool placement :)

Sun in Pisces really values creativity and individuality. You probably highly value self-expression and may show this through clothing, art, music, literature, etc. Pisces are definitely about emotions and about understanding others. You know how to make people feel SEEN. I also always associate Pisces on the axis of “service” (along with Virgo on the other side of the axis… and Virgo is your moon!) Being in your 11th house, it is likely that using your Piscean nature through social networking or through groups will lead to accomplishing your goals. In other words, try to channel your ability to see the good in others THROUGH working with other people, and it will ultimately give you fulfillment in life. In your Aries section, I talked about you being a great activist. I think your Pisces placement here realllly supports that statement. Just from looking at these 2 placements alone, I think you’d make a great activist in an area such as mental health or counseling.

Obviously this is a great placement with Felix. Felix is a Virgo, which I previously mentioned is on the “service axis” (aka that’s just the vibes I get from it lol but technically it just means they are the houses in opposition). So what does this mean for you two? You probably have the same goal, but you go about obtaining it in different ways. You both want to be helpful. You can dream up what to do, and Felix can help put it into action. I think he would also be great on that activist train, even going into what I talked about with mental health.

Moon in Virgo (6th house):

Your moon in Virgo in the 6th house means that you probably put a large emphasis on self-development. You are more than likely always finding ways to better yourself or to keep yourself well-informed. But you are able to do this maybe without even realizing it. You are also able to do it in a practical way- you know your limits.

I’ve said this time and time again, but to ME, the Sun/Moon match up is the MOST IMPORTANT indicator of a long lasting couple. Your Moon (emotions ) in Virgo matched perfectly with Felix’s Sun (personality) in Virgo… meaning that he would really feel like you UNDERSTAND him… because you do! Lol you operate on that plane with him.

Felix’s moon in Aries would be a good match for you as well because I think it could inspire you to keep wanting more for yourself. Kind of like a flame to keep you going.

Venus in Aquarius in Midheaven:

Okay literally your placements just keep confirming what I’ve already said 😂

Venus represents love, balance, and beauty… An Aquarius represents individuality, uniqueness, and freedom. You likely find beauty in very unique individuals. You also support others to be their TRUE selves, even if it goes against societal norms. You probably think moreso that people who ARE different are actually more beautiful (sometimes lol).

The 10th house (midheaven) governs our career path and who we are seen to the public based on our career choices. I feel like at this point, I don’t even have to say it lol. In your career, you would literally be known as someone who is an activist for finding beauty in uniqueness and self-acceptance… like babe, that is you. If you aren’t in that field, pls go into it bc the planets are calling for you apparently.

Felix’s Venus in Libra also means that he is able to see beauty in all kinds of people and really reallllly values it on a deep, personal level. He needs to find that in order to find peace within himself. With the two of you paired, I could see you as having a cool and honestly fun sex life. Both of you WOULD need a level of devotion tied into it, but definitely not all the time. I could see you all trying a lot of new stuff, but things would be mostly light and airy.

[flowerslut]

if we're getting into this today lets get INTO IT!!!!!

alice - air sign 1000%!!!! I say libra but I'd settle for aquarius bc that's also very fitting. like, if she's not a early-october libra she's absolutely a weird little aquarius art kid I swear to GOD

carlisle - pisces are literally KNOWN for their compassion + introspection. this man has that old wise pisces energy pouring out of his ass

esme - stop saying carlisle is the cancer. esme is the cancer in this family. this quiet ball of emotion can fit SO much devotion inside of her. we so often forget that homegirl is literally down to murder if it means keeping her family intact <3

jasper - no offense to you capricorns but your sign is known for being boring for a reason. practical, responsible, ambitious, blah blah blah it FITS ok? sag is another valid interpretation but making him a cap-sag cusp is as accurate as youre going to get

rosalie - listen I could see MAYBE one or two other semi-valid placements but her being a scorpio both fits and is funny. also hi to all scorpios reading this. I love you and you scare me

emmett - I know leo is such a basic take for emmet but as the only fire sign in this family he is SO important to the ecosystem. this is why emmett comes off as so goofy and lovable: he's the only bitch who actually knows how to have fun

charlie - charlie gets to go on this list because I just think it would be funny if he was also a virgo. sometimes I forget he doesn't have a birthday confirmed either and I speak about him being a virgo as if its canon, to the confusion of other twilight fans. three generations of virgos is just funny, your honor

I won't even get into what their extended charts could potentially be but I DO have birthday headcanons for ALL of the cullens (+ a few extra characters) and am always down to talk birthdays/zodiac with twilight characters. I also have been posting on tiktok for almost 7 weeks now recording a video every day begging smeyer to give us the cullens' birthdays (OR to let me help her pick them) and you can find those videos here. here's example of one of these videos (featuring @volturialice and @perihelions-crew) for your viewing enjoyment. please help support me in my journey <3

[rafent]

there would always be guilt swelling within the mage dragon's heart at every sight of lady nel and lord n——rafal. lord rafal. the same dragon it once sought to eradicate with hatred fueling the flames of its outstretched hands. yet now, its hands were raised for good, pressed gently to the porcelain of a teapot's belly as the fire beneath the wood dwindled to simmering crackles.

today was lord rafal's name - day, and zelestia had no clue what to give the fell dragon. they had not been as acquainted as she'd like, despite her unwavering duty to uphold him and his older sister's ideals——would he enjoy the same delights as lady nel did? should she prepare a plentiful of gifts in the light of him disregarding the first? or the second? no, the fell dragon would not bring himself to deny at least one present, right?

thus, most of the day went as proclaimed; zelestia pondered, stumbled, and tripped over itself in the endeavor of pleasing lord rafal. it hardly left his side, tending to every need of his ( though there was an evident lack of tasks, as rafal was as independent as his countenance let on ) from brief worries to more grueling acts. doors opened in advance, food offered by eager hands, and attempts at ushering the fell dragon to rest whenever he stood idle for a moment too long.

all of it was fussing, at its finest, and yet, she could not understand why her heart still ached afterward. thus an introspection led to now; hands cupping a teapot, two embroidered cups set across a table spread, and a mage dragon as confused as the set - up was simple. all this time, she came to realize, and she hadn't even expressed a 'happy birthday' yet?! oh, how stupid that was of her! a fault that, quickly, needed to be dealt with; hence, her placing the pot down to find the fell dragon before the night ended.

"lord rafal! a moment of your time, please," zelestia exclaimed——pleaded, really. breathless, she stepped before him. an unspoken apology was strewn across her face when she bowed her head, clasping her hands together against her chest as she continued, "i'm sorry! i forgot to wish you a happy birthday earlier, despite my attempts to ease any hardships you'd face today. so, um... happy birthday? i mean, happy birthday!"

when the mage dragon rose, she smiled sweetly, hands no longer clasped as she eagerly gestured to an area quite a distance away, where the earlier teatime set - up was. "i prepared tea for the both of us, if you would like to sit down and try some. unless you are more inclined to rest, then by no means shall i stop you. actually, i encourage it!"

( —— fell xenologue au ; zelestia )

As Rafal knew well, as Nil had known first, the Four Winds though humble were not to be underestimated. Each knight defined by strength and fealty that far exceeded the scant numbers to their ranks. To his surprise, they further outsized expectation in that loyalty to Nil failed to disintegrate entirely, some carried over to the man who displaced him and the very Elyos they were born to. Zelestia among them, Zelestia who despite her draconic roots was more alike a tireless hummingbird, flitting to and from Rafal throughout the day in a never-ending desire to please.

Often while speaking together, his partial expectation was that she would expend all the energy she had on her own worries. Or that his mind would simply implode from the speed of its thoughts processed. Whichever came first. "What nonsense, Zelestia. Every moment of this day has decidedly been claimed as yours. What purpose is there in asking after it now?" Arms crossed, the glowering mien above it colored by torchlight in an expression that was hostile but not unusual or - to another extent - true to the surface portrayed.

Had Rafal truly been displeased with her efforts, he would not have permitted himself to partake in one inch of them. He realized that despite his unforgivable sins, his most undeserving of natures, she conferred on him a day of comparative normalcy. Something he had not experienced for a thousand years. In a figment of reality he would not name, he had even enjoyed it; the fussing on his birthday, the bustling energy of Zelestia, and the sense of preoccupation only recently condemned.

All of it achingly familiar - a return to fond and simpler times though he knew those times existed no more. His cold gaze slackened, a flickering warmth behind it. "Heed the words I shall only say once; for all this time, you have not allowed yourself to rest in your attentions toward me. . .so I will accept your well-wishes on one condition. You will sit alongside me without worrying mindlessly of this or that."

A heartbeat toward retrospect, the next addendum hastily immediate:

"—and you will know the value of silence."

After all, he enjoyed such pleasantries in fixed moderation, including the social aspect inherent within them. He did not even speak to Nel so brazenly or as often during their teatime. But no doubt there would be time to learn of his habits for those who knew Nil better than they knew Rafal. This, the expectant Fell Dragon invited - starting his approach toward the prepared area without awaiting response.

[handmade--ghost]

Hi! Once you get this you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly, then send this to ten of your favorite followers (nonnegotiable) SPREAD POSITIVITY! 💌🥰

omg hiiiii tumblr user any59 how are you on this beautiful beautiful evening ive just had spicy cocoa so i'm perfectly peachy.

1. ough this feels so tooting my own hornish but i like that i make a conscious effort to be kind even when its difficult or at my own expense or if its a tiny tiny beetle. gentleness is very important to me.

2. i'm very introspective and that's led me to grow so much as a person. when i realize something about myself i dont like (being a people pleaser, or having a hard time communicating with people) i work through it without being harsh on myself

3. my creativity, especially in writing. i've actually just got done doing some plotting for a wip i've had for 4 years now which seems like a lot but it has transformed so much as a piece from something a bit formulaic to something i'm genuinely excited about with so much intricacy and nuance

4. as you can tell i'm rather wordy and at times i'm embarrassed about it but i just enjoy looking at all angles of things and communicating it. every detail is important to me and so that's why i give very long and honest answers to things. its like brain maximalism i love things and thoughts. as a kid i didnt mind recess when my only friend was sick because i would have just as much fun wandering the playground lost in thought/daydreams

5. every day i become more myself and i've found a very cozy home in that, in a way i didn't before, in the way i move and how i dress and decorate and the foods i eat and how i like my tea black and feel the most joy on rainy days and love old movies and my antique books/furniture and julie london vinyls and how its often hard for me to be heard in crowded places because my voice is soft and my fascination with insects and the personalized mini-letters i leave in my friends birthday cards. i feel like a snail who's found its perfect shell. i think i spent a long time assuming the perfect shell had all the bling and color i felt that everyone else's had but, forgive me for the paragraphs and stupid metaphor, it's okay that my shell is quiet and soft and "boring".

[musicvalla]

The Role of Music in Creating Lasting Memories

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Songs like "In My Blood" or "Treat You Better" capture feelings that many people go through—emotions that may be difficult to articulate but are easily understood through his lyrics.

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Music plays a central role in marking life’s milestones, turning every birthday into an unforgettable event.

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Conclusion

Music is an integral part of our lives. It shapes memories, accompanies us through emotional highs and lows, and provides a soundtrack to our experiences. From the inspiring lyrics of Allegra song lyrics to the powerful performances of a world famous singer, every note has the potential to evoke memories that last a lifetime. Whether you're exploring Shawn Mendes songs or enjoying a regional hit like

[sacredpit]

    kakyoin listens with heartful earnestness as giorno describes his similar history with his stand .   it sounds familiar enough to conjure images of his own lonesome childhood ;   his younger self isolated in a quiet ,   lightless corner with hierophant’s tendrils curled around his legs ,   the extension of his soul attempting to   console   him in its embrace .   silently ,   he wishes for his childhood self to be able to reach across time   &   space to connect with the younger giorno   ━━━━   to hold his hand   &   to prove to him that he’s not alone ;   that if he could just hold on a few more years ,   the world would open up   &   show   both of them   the loving companionship they’d only been able to find in dreams thus far . 

    “   no one really knows why stand users seem to attract each other ,   yet ,   ”   says kakyoin ,   an introspective gleam to his gaze as it wanders away from giorno ,   “   but i’ve always thought it was to counteract that initial feeling of isolation .   some people are born to entire families of stand users ,   &   some aren’t so lucky   ━━━━   but even so ,   being a stand user is still a one - in - a - million thing .   i think our powers have some kind of universal pull that calls to others like us ,   for better or for worse .   ”   that’s how   dio   found me ,   after all .   electing not to dwell on that idea much longer ,   a tiny breath puffs past his nares ,   laughter sewn into the suspiration .   “   obviously ,   it’s nearly impossible to prove that .   but there’s no way i’ll die without trying ,   at least .   ”

    the beaming smile that had temporarily departed returns upon giorno’s display of excitement ;   kakyoin’s core resembles the hearth of a furnace by sensation ,   melting away the   atmospheric chill   of the outside world   &   providing a warm   &   comfortable place to rest   &   be vulnerable .   “   i wouldn’t call myself a party expert by any means ,   but i’ve picked up some skills over the years .   besides ,   i’m determined to give you the best birthday party anyone’s ever seen ,   ”   he replies ,   punctuating his claim with a wink of his left eye .   then ,   he grins ,   eyes rendered amethyst crescents by the growth of his smile .   “   ━━━━   &   when i put my mind to something ,   i make sure it happens .   ”

    &   it’s   true   ━━━━   no known power can hinder the   unstoppable force   that is kakyoin   (   now kujo   )   noriaki’s ambition .   (   perhaps it could be construed as silly that he’d put   so much energy   toward this ,   but he wouldn’t hear it ;   he’d go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones ,   notwithstanding how trivial the matter seems ,   &   giorno is no exception .   )

    “   oh ,   ”   he voices ,   long lashes fluttering in the vein of butterfly wings as his interest shifts to the discussion of giorno’s friends ,   “   they sound lovely already .   though i believe mista may have said something about fugo having quite a temper ,   &   i wasn’t sure if he was being facetious or not .   ”   he seemed to have the kind of rollicking personality that polnareff used to embody ;   a perfect foil to the reserved   &   composed giorno .   bearing this in mind ,   kakyoin begins to imagine what giorno’s other friends are like ,   &   how they complement him .   he smiles with a certain sentimentality to it .   “   either way ,   i’m sure it’s nothing that would put me off .   jotaro was   quite a character   when we first met ,   &   i ended up marrying him ,   so i’d like to think i’m good at seeing peoples’ hearts .   ”   &   if they’re friends of yours ,   their hearts must be nearly as golden .   

    somepoint amid their discussion of takoyaki   &   other wonders of kakyoin’s homeland ,   the car comes to a stop   &   a gaze through the blackout window reveals their destination ;   a charming   gelateria   that looks to be as old as the city itself .   the driver gestures for them to wait before climbing out ,   likely to secure the area for someone as   important   as passione’s don .   for the umpteenth time ,   the passive knowledge at the back of kakyoin’s brain that his beloved giorno is also technically   the most powerful person in all of italy   is activated .   not that it alters the way he sees him ;   kakyoin is well - versed in the concept of   two things being true at once   ━━━━   perhaps he even embodies this duality himself .

     “   not bad !!   ”   he says with a lighthearted chuckle ,   squeezing giorno’s hand in a gush of endearment toward how   cute   he sounded .   “   don’t be embarrassed ;   japanese is hard .   but you used to speak it ,   so there must be some dormant knowledge in your brain that you can try to activate before you go back for a visit .   ”   his words overflow with encouragement ,   kind eyes turned to waning moons once more ,   the scars slashing through them like comets shooting across the sky .   “   but either way ,   we’d be happy to help .   &   you know ,   i’ve picked up some italian since i’ve been here   ━━━━   i felt awful about butchering such a beautiful language when i first arrived ,   but i think i’m getting the hang of it now ,   ”   kakyoin declares ,   laughing softly as he rakes a hand through cherry - red tresses ,   loose from their usual plait .   “   i’ll practice more once i get home ,   i promise .   ”

Giorno felt like Kakyoin was the kind of adult he wanted to be someday. He seemed like someone so elegant, courageous and friendly to everyone he meets. Although Giorno was all those things, teenage insecurity and horrifying childhood made it where having that natural confidence and wide eyes to the world around him felt nearly impossible some days for him. He was still scared of the dark, surely no mafia don is scared of something so immature?

"It's funny you speak of that, to believe you're the only one with a stand. All my life, I thought I was the only one with this gift." Anytime he told his parents about the plants that grew overnight or the small creatures that sprung to life from old buttons and coins? They didn't believe a damn word he said, and the children around him thought he was insane for talking about a floating golden creature by his side.

Having a stand felt like the cherry on top to a lonely childhood in a place that took far too long to feel like home for him. That's why his eyes light up to hear someone he considered a living paternal figure was so happy to celebrate his birthday. "Yes please! I've never been to a party before, so I entrust you know how, um...a party is done."

For as proud and social he seems, he really couldn't hide that he was still a shy boy around someone who made him feel safe. "I would love to, Trish and Fugo are also my closest friends, so you should meet them as well!" Fugo would be easy since he largely handled the finances and more transactional side of the mafia for Giorno, but Trish? She wasn't involved in any of this, but seemed to be busy living her life to the fullest across Rome.

"Ta-ko-ya-ki...?" Giorno tries to say it as fluently as Kakyoin did, but his own Italian accent made it sound so hard to pronounce even the name of the very dish he remembered fondly for so many years when thinking back to Japan. "I think I may need you and Dr kujo if I were to visit Japan, my Japanese is deplorable..." He feels kind of...embarrassed that he struggled for a moment.

[selarina]

Dusty Green Eyes

→ Eren Jaeger x gender neutral!reader

Content warnings: rich boy!eren, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, introspection of sorts, reader has a complicated relationship with money (don’t cancel her), unedited

Word count: 1.1k

Author’s notes: Hello, I hate this. Might delete later but I wanted to commemorate this loser’s birthday. If there are other warnings that I should be adding, please let me know and I’ll add them. Also, no dialogues was a choice and I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I'm still working on my modern!au levi fic, I might turn it into a series.

Eren could easily project a selfish persona, but he doesn't mean to; people immediately take notice of the polarity of his bright green eyes gracing its presence on a dull dull face. A face that’s worn from years of – well, no one really knows but they are certain that they can assume the worst of him. He seems the type, after all. 

Now, don’t get him wrong. He isn’t far off from the “worst”, but there are a few error bars to take into consideration, for there are aspects of him that are in stark contrast to his previously mentioned "selfish" persona. 

On rare evenings, Eren would attempt to open up to the only person who would listen and care. Armin's desire to undertake a summer intensive program in Australia was mentioned one such evening. This prompted him to arrive at Armin's doorstep the next day, with two plane tickets and a well-organized itinerary for the whole month. He didn't understand why it was an unusual thing to do, not until Armin spent an hour reasoning with him. Armin went on that trip anyway, because for the first time he understood how Eren's head rationalised, it's the first he had an insight into how he thought.

It would take Eren 3 years to divulge the fact that he made the itinerary himself. Of course, he didn't have to, a quick few phone calls would result in him having to do next to nothing, but he just felt like it at the time. 

—

Despite being the number one contributor to the doting environment created for him, Carla Jaeger figured she should put him through circumstances that could prevent him from alienating himself. She adored the generosity of his misguided spirit, but he was limited to the people he cared about – his family, his friends and that's that? 

He didn't really have a wide range of friends either, and she suspects that some of the individuals he considers friends aren't really his friends. Not because they had ulterior motives but because his notions of friendship are vastly different from the norm. (Exhibit A – he thinks Connie’s his friend because he’s constantly giving him money to buy weed from him, but really, Connie’s his friend because he knows Eren quit smoking years ago yet he buys from him still.) 

She remembers throwing birthday parties for him, how the number of people invited would decrease in number as he grew in age. She remembers how he celebrated his last birthday with only him because he didn’t feel the need to invite anyone else. But she isn’t sure if anyone would have shown even if he did. Maybe he knew that too.

She laments for a version of him that isn’t as disconnected from reality. If she could have put aside her doting nature, maybe he would be different. But she wanted him to have the best of the best, and now she's forced to. reconsider her definition of best

—

The circumstances you found yourself in for fate to tether you to Eren weren't ideal at all, and you're not sure if you would make the same choices if you could do it all over again. The day had been stressful for members of your family, to put it mildly. But, it was also the day that brought Eren to you, the source of many of your hardships. 

Now, you weren't far from rich; you just weren't the kind of opulence that could rent out an island at the get-go. Your desire to be independent of your parents' finances usually resulted in elaborate money-saving schemes. It felt pretty good for a while until you couldn't help but feel ignorant working in a bookshop for money when you were actually filthy rich.

Regardless, for this very same reason, you agreed to attend a party hosted by a random college student. They had alcohol which was usually your remedy to a day spent at your parents’ mansion. You could go home and finish your preserved alcohol but you would much rather have free alcohol. 

That party is where you meet Eren Jaeger. Eren tries his best to draw people away from his eyes, with elaborate tattoos adorned on his arms, funky pants he regrets wearing, and long hair left untamed to shield himself. And the bright green of his eyes stays dusty when he tries hard enough but it’s still a visionary.

You couldn’t help but gravitate towards him, you make conversation and soon find that you don't just want him to be the quick fuck you were looking for. He’s quiet and awkward. He’s misplaced, like a big log of wood placed in the middle of a ballroom. He has exquisite taste in literature and sometimes, you’re on your toes trying to keep up with him. It’s invigorating and naturally, you find yourself on a date with him the next day. 

The date was surprisingly simple for a not very simple man. He mentions half-truths and he can’t help but feel hollow. You mention ambitions - how you want to write a book, maybe have some champagne at 1:20 am in Paris, build a farm or color your hair. But I don’t have the time, you add. 

Eren wants to tell you he would stop time for you if he could but he isn’t sure if that’s embarrassing. He genuinely means that, if he was given the ability to stop time, why would he not do that for you? But he did ask Armin for advice and he's trying to rely on intuition to be good at his first date ever.

At the end of the day, Eren is Eren, which is why he offers to help you the only way he knows — he offers to pay away your troubles.

That way you get time to color your hair, at the very least, and he smiles for you you, for the first time since you’ve met.

You're upset. You're upset because it’s a nice smile, but Eren stands there, encompassing all your financial and parental dilemmas, and you lash out at him.

Pure unbridled rage poured out at a man who just stands there, taking it. Amidst your yelling, you ocassionally spot the green on his visage, it grows duller with every passing minute. You need to stop yelling, but you're feeling lighter now. You sense that you'll stop when you run out of words.

You feel the guilt seep in, creeping in as your words slow down and your volume diminishes gradually.

You don’t leave immediately after, as much as you want to. You're embarassed, but that dissipates with ever sip you take of the ice tea Eren got for you.

You know you’re projecting so you stay. You decide that you'll tell him as it is, since he seems genuinely confused.

Eren stares at you, wanting to comfort you but he doesn't know what your definition of comfort is, or what the definition of comfort is at all. He doesn’t have hardships, all he’s known is comfort.

He stands there, trying to process your words. Maybe understanding you is all the comfort you’ll need.

You speak up to clarify what you meant to actually convey and that’s the first time you’ve opened up about your family and it’s because of a complete fucking stranger. You're not directly opening up to him, you've only known him for a day, you're not going to do that. You're just opening up these thought processes in your head.

He doesn't ask for more, even though you're being cryptic. He understands because it's at this point, Eren sees how disconnected his version of relationships, his version of life are from reality.

–

His life doesn’t change monumentally after meeting you, he just finds himself going out more, even if it’s not for himself. Not yet, at least. He finds himself on a first-name basis with the shop owner from your favorite tea place, he finds himself relearning social cues because he wants you to express yourself without having to walk around him all the time, and for the first time in a couple of years, he finds himself on a table full of people for his birthday.

Amidst the crowded table of the restaurant you can finally afford, all on your own, you think maybe this is something you could get used to. You turn to your right and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a green so bright.

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Once Upon a Flower Shop

Pairing: Captain Swan

Summary:  When Killian’s flower shop, Jolly Blooms Flower Shop, fails to deliver the bouquet Emma ordered, she pays the establishment a rather angry visit.  Little to either of them know this mix up might just turn into the best thing that ever happened to them.

Rating: G/K

Words: 1520

Other Chapters: (2) (3)

This fic was written for the #love4teamhook event as a way to support Alma, @teamhook while she’s going through a difficult time.  Thanks to @jrob64 for her work in betaing for me!

  Killian Jones cupped the delicate blooms of an orchid in his hand and nodded in satisfaction.  He’d been rather worried about this particular plant.  It had shown signs of distress a week past, and for several days he’d feared  it wouldn’t make it.  He had done his research, separated the diseased plant from its mates and cared for it as tenderly as a parent would their child.

Today was the first day the orchid showed signs of improvement.  Like Killian himself, this orchid was a survivor.

Killian gathered up the plant and placed it back inside the bright, humid greenhouse, and then stepped back behind the counter of his shop Jolly Blooms Flower Shop.  Sometimes it amazed him, the life he now led.  As a young man, he’d longed for adventure, danger.  He’d joined the navy to be close to his brother, and the life they’d led had been fascinating.  He’d loved every minute of it.

Until the moment his brother Liam opted to leave the navy and marry his highschool sweetheart, Elsa.

Suddenly, with his brother no longer at his side, danger and adventure no longer looked nearly as appealing.  Left at a crossroads, he’d taken some time to evaluate what he wanted to do with his life, and in the end, he’d opted for the pursuit of beauty.

There was something so calming and yet rejuvenating about being surrounded day after day by beautiful flowers. Providing a product that brought joy and comfort to his clients was infinitely rewarding.  His was a quiet, peaceful existence.

His introspection was interrupted when his shop door was suddenly, forcefully opened.  He looked up to find himself face to face with the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.  Her golden hair fell on her shoulders and down her back like a cloud of sunshine.  Her green eyes shone.

Unfortunately, today they seemed to be shining with anger.  So much for his quiet, peaceful existence.

“May...may I help you, love?” he asked, hesitantly as she reached his counter, planted her feet and crossed her arms.

“Yeah, I wanted you to help me yesterday, but apparently asking for a flower shop to deliver flowers was too big of an ask,” she clipped out.

Killian found himself at a loss for words, barely even registering what the vision before him said.  They say when you’ve found your soulmate, your True Love, you just know.  You can feel it.  He’d rather thought that was nonsense, but now...well, now he was beginning to rethink every notion he’d ever had about attraction, romance and even love itself.

“Well?” she exploded, planting her splayed hands on his wooden counter and scowling fiercely at him.  

Killian blinked, shaking his head slightly, willing himself to come back to his senses.  Whatever his attraction might be to this woman, she was a customer, and he must get it together and provide her the customer service that had made him one of the most sought-after small flower shops in the area.

“My apologies,” he said.  “Was there a problem with a flower delivery?”

She rolled her eyes.  “Oh I don’t know.  I ordered a bouquet to be delivered yesterday, and yet still no flowers have arrived.  Seems like a bit of a problem to me!”

Killian frowned.  He’d had several flower orders go out yesterday, and he’d gotten no complaints from his delivery people that they’d been unable to complete their tasks successfully.  “Could I have your name, love?”

“Not your love,” she gritted out.  “Emma Swan.  I ordered a bouquet of snowbells to be delivered to Mary Margaret Nolan.  It was very important that they arrive yesterday on her birthday.”

He remembered the order, because of its unusualness. Few people specifically requested snow bells, and those who did typically wished for them to be an accent in a larger arrangement rather than the sole flower within the arrangement.

Killian typed for a moment on his computer, bringing up the order details.  “According to my records, that bouquet was delivered as requested bright and early yesterday morning.”

“And yet my sister still does not have her bouquet of flowers,” the woman, Emma Swan, said.

Killian peered down at his information once again and groaned.  Will.  He should have known his newest--and most annoying--employee would be at the center of any mix up.

“Scarlet!” he called over his shoulder. 

A moment later the man in question stepped through the back room door and walked up to the two of them.  “Anything I can do for ya boss?”

“There seems to be a mistake with yesterday’s deliveries,” Killian said, willing himself to keep his voice even.  There was just something about Will Scarlet and his care-free and yet somehow insolent style that made Killian wish to throttle him more often than not.

“Nope,” Will said, grinning.  “No problems with yesterday’s deliveries.  Handed the flowers personally to every person on my list.”

“What about the bouquet of snowbells for Mary Margaret Nolan?”

Will tapped on his chin, seemingly deep in thought, and then he brightened.  “I remember her.  Pretty woman, that.  Long, curly, fire-red hair.  Kinda thought about asking her out, but decided that might not be so professional-like.”

“Curly red hair?” Emma Swan bit out.  “Mary Margaret doesn’t have curly red hair.  She has dark brown!  I don’t think she even knows anyone with curly red hair!”

“Did you confirm the name of the recipient?” Killian asked.

“Yep, just like you taught me,” Will said, nodding vigorously.

“And this red-head confirmed that her name was Mary Margaret?” Killian asked.

“Well, I mean she said her name was Merida,” Will conceded, “but I figured hey, that must be a nickname for Mary Margaret or somethin’.”

Killian rubbed at his temples, a pounding headache beginning to set in.  “And you didn’t think to confirm that you had the right address and that this person, with a different name, was the actual intended recipient of your delivery?”

Will shrugged.  “Hey, I don’t ask questions.  I just go where the Google maps lady tells me.”

Killian full-on facepalmed this time before glaring at his unbelievably dense employee.  “Just...just go back to what you were doing.  Later, we’ll have a long, probably rather loud discussion about the proper way to deliver flowers.”

Killian watched the idiot disappear into the backroom, muttering to himself about it being Mrs. Google’s fault and then turned back to face the wrath of the avenging angel before him.

“Miss Swan, my sincerest apologies for this unfortunate mistake,” he said.  “The delivery man at fault will be dealt with, and I will set to work this moment to create a replacement for your sister.”

The remainder of the visit was completed in a matter of moments.  Killian took down his dream woman’s information, apologized profusely, and then assured her yet again that he would personally see to the creation and delivery of the arrangement, that it would be his first priority.

Killian’s reassurances seemed to mollify the woman slightly, though her ire was clearly not entirely ameliorated.  Satisfied that she’d at least accomplished what she’d set out to do, Emma Swan turned and walked briskly out of his shop and out of his life.

It rather amazed Killian what a profound sense of loss he felt as the door closed behind the lovely lady.  He’d only known her for the space of five minutes, for Zeus’s sake, and most of that was spent with her yelling at him.  It made no sense that he’d feel such a deep, elemental pull to her already, and yet the heart wanted what the heart wanted.

Killian grabbed a vase and headed in the direction of his snowbells.  There was no doubt about it; he must find a way to see Emma Swan again.  Slowly, an idea began to take shape within his mind.  It was a bold move, perhaps even risky, but if there’s one thing Liam had instilled in him it was this:  A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.

If he didn’t at least try with Emma Swan, Killian knew he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

 Notes:

--This story is loosely inspired by The Words music video, as you might have picked up.  I’ve never written about florist Killian before, and I decided it was time to change that.

--I’m anticipating 2 more short chapters that I’ll post on each of the next Thursdays.  (The point of this event was to post one shots...but my muse is terrible at following directions, lol.

--Up next: We’ll get some Killian pining (a la the music video), but the bulk of the chapter will be from Emma’s POV.  We’ll find out why she was so angry about her flowers not being delivered, and we’ll see her reaction to Killian putting into action the plan he comes up with at the end of this chapter.

                                                                                     NEXT CHAPTER-->

[wallwriterstuff]

Our Dearest Moments ||Alec Volturi x Reader||

Warnings: None, this is nice and fluffy

Words: 2964

Summary: A request for @royalvolturisblog    Forever is a long time to live, an occasionally a little reflection upon who we are and how we got here is needed to maintain our sanity, and decided some very important answers to equally as important questions.

Sometimes, life is not all we expect it to be. Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, life is disappointing. For me? I can safely say it’s none of these things. My life had always been easy, the best of everything and wanting for nothing. As doting as he was, my father had spoilt me rotten and never let me work hard for anything, never given me life skills that most normal people would need to live a functioning, adult existence. Why would I need them? Money was not a problem for my family nor would it ever be, so why go to the hassle of building a life where a nine to five job sapped the life from me when I could, quite sustainably, simply enjoy my life to its fullest at my loving father’s expense? Why make your child work if there was no need? I would not settle for a subpar life as nothing in my life had ever been less than luxurious.

That was my life in a nutshell. It was flat screen TVs in a ginormous bedroom which would have fit some people’s houses inside it, four poster beds and every new games console, every makeup palette fresh off the manufacturers line and vacations to the most remote and lavish corners of the Earth. I never even had to ask for some of it, my father simply expected I would want things and provided them without request – as those of guilt soul are wont to do.

“Well? What do you say?” Alec asked, his lips pressing the gentlest of kisses against my shoulder. I hummed, leaning back against him.

“Forgive me, I was hardly listening to a word you said, my mind is…elsewhere.” I admitted. Alec squeezed my hips, arms widening around my waist to tighten his hold on me.

“You’re ignoring me now? How very rude. I thought we were passed this.” He chided, though his tone was more playful than scolding.

“Call it introspection.” I sighed. Alec chuckled.

“Introspection? Now that sounds dangerous. I happen to like you as you are, if you haven’t noticed.” He teased, pressing a kiss to my temple. I turned in his arms with a smile. He stood a little taller than I did but I didn’t mind; it always gave me the best angle of the soft curve of his jawline, the fullness of his lips that didn’t like to stray from my own for too long. It also gave me the perfect excuse to nestle my head against his collarbone, escape those all seeing crimson eyes of his. Alec had seen right through me from the very start.

“I happen to know, you inform me every day…you sap.” I smiled a little as he lifted a hand to play with my hair.

“Then why decide to be introspective? What is there to reflect on? What would you wish to change?” he questioned.

“I already have changed,” I pointed out, lifting my hand to play with his coven crest, “I actually work for a living now.” Alec actually laughed at that, pulling back to feign shock.

“You? Spoilt? I would never have guessed.” he teased. He wasn’t wrong. Even now my room was lavish, silks and fine fabrics and luxuries filling every corner, but at least this time I had worked for it. Being a part of the Volturi was a privilege in itself but it required hard work, it required proving your worth and working for the greater good of your species. It was rather odd, how I had turned my entire life philosophy around in the span of a few centuries. Maybe it was Alec, making me humbler and wiser. Perhaps I owed some of it to Vladimir and Stefan, who had taught me to fight for what I wanted rather than throw money at it. I could still remember that fateful day, though faces and names were murky now in my ‘old age’.

Samuel and Scott were two boys I had craved the presence of a lot in my human days, though I couldn’t honestly tell you why anymore. Perhaps it was the familiarity of money, or the comfort that came from knowing someone of your status and experience walked alongside you and understood your world view, but they were the closest friends I had for a long time. What was better than going on vacation with your friends at the closing of exam season? Rome had been beautiful, the sights enamouring and the food…I suppose it was okay – my tastebuds had changed since then. I could still vividly recall the kind of heat I wasn’t accustomed to back home, and the dazzling brightness of the sunlight that spotted my vision and made my ever blurry human memories seem even worse quality somehow. I also remembered laughter, and warmth, the kind of warmth that flooded your soul and felt like a good hug on the worst of days. It was strange, the things that stayed with you.

Then there was too much warmth. The process to immortalise one’s body came at the cost of burning the eternal soul till only a shell was left behind, petrified and cold. That was how Stefan put it at least in his usual, grim way. The memories of my time with them had most certainly been the most vivid, since I was very much a vampire by then and I could remember every little glance, every change in the tone of their voice. Those days….those days were full of anger. My doting father taken from me, my best friends none the wiser as to where I had gone and yet never once pleading on the news for my safe return as most others did for their loved ones. Through time and trial and error, Vladimir and Stefan had shown me that I had actually lost nothing in this life, only gained. I was stronger, swifter, better than any human version of myself could ever be.

Then came the gift.

It had been purely accidental at first. Another boy taken in by Stefan only to be turned (in what I would later find out was an attempt at raising a small army) was similarly gifted. He had the quite remarkable ability to make anything he touched smaller or larger, depending on what he wished it to look like, and unintentionally I had taken his gift to use for myself. He hadn’t stayed much longer after that, Vladimir and Stefan reluctant to let him part but allowing it – only because they knew the Volturi would send the Guard after an unruly newborn causing havoc. Why should they need him when they had me? They had been the ones to train my gift, an enhanced trait from my human life they had said – as I had taken what I wanted then I could do so now with startling efficiency. By the time Alec had arrived I had not truly gotten it under control, hence my confrontation with Jane.

It turns out the unruly newborn had been smarter than we thought, and the Masters’ had dispensed the Guard to see about this gifted vampire the Romanian’s had collected. At this point it had been months since we’d even seen the boy, years since Vladimir and Stefan had stolen me from Rome’s streets on one of their daring missions taking them close to Volturi territory. My gift had made me indispensable to them, though I like to believe that on some level they cared for me as a person, given all the gifts and birthday celebrations they had indulged in for me. There had been trips and movie nights all at my request, and affectionate gestures such as hugs and chaste kisses to my forehead that had lulled me into the false sense of security that I was where I ought to be.

“Your mind keeps wondering. I happen to be trying to ask you a very important question.” Alec was sounding a tad frustrated with me now and my eyebrows furrowed.

“I’m sorry, really, I just…do you ever have one of those days where you feel like you can’t escape thinking about the past? Thinking about the things that led you to this moment?” I sighed. It was perhaps a tad dramatic, perhaps even silly of me to be this distracted by such errant thoughts, but they wouldn’t leave me be. Alec stared at me for a long moment, and then he tucked a lock of stray hair behind my ear and swept me off of my feet to seat us on the sofa before our fireplace. Draped across his lap as I was, he had made me his sole focus and gave me his undivided attention now.

“I can’t say I do, so explain it to me. What are you thinking of in particular?” he questioned. My head tilted slightly, the briefest of smiles tugging at my lips.

“Demetri fixing up his nose the day we met.” I giggled. Alec snorted, eyes rolling.

“Vladimir did hit him rather hard.” He agreed. The commotion hadn’t much bothered me, my head buried too deep in my book to really be bothered by such trivial things, but then he had screamed. It was a blood-curdling kind of scream, the sort you heard in slasher movies when the victim is disposed of. It was the first time I had seen Jane’s gift in action, and the only time since I had stolen it. I had only meant to shove the menacing little blonde away from the man I had grown to see as a second father, only to accidentally set her own gift on her. She had crumpled like a straw doll, screaming all the while, and anyone else who came at me went down the same way.

Felix, Demetri and Jane just writhed on the stone floor while I tried and failed to keep Alec at bay, the mate bond I had unknowingly just set with him the moment we locked eyes preventing me from hurting him and vice versa. His mist had danced at the edges of my feet as he gave me more warnings than I was sure was customary of a Guard with his reputation until I managed to calm the raging inferno in my own mind, and douse the flames in theirs.

“Then you misted me.” I recalled, scowling at him slightly. Alec looked amused.

“You were getting rather violent,” he pointed out, “I’d merely suggested an even trade, their lives for you accompanying us to Volterra, and poor Demetri lost his nose a second time that day.” I could still recall the crunch of his skin beneath my knuckles as I vowed to never let them take me anywhere, and now two centuries on I couldn’t bear the thought of being anywhere other than in Alec’s lap. His hand skimmed my arm as I dropped my head on his shoulder.

“You think he would forgive me for that by now.” I said. Alec chuckled and kissed my forehead.

“Not in a million years, his ego is more fragile than his nose.” He murmured against my skin. I hadn’t been happy for a very long time after that. Dragged away from my home against my will and told it was all for a mate bond I hadn’t been ready to accept. I was cruel, very cruel, and I called Alec all sorts of filthy names. Neither him nor Jane had ever really done me wrong, yet still I rarely addressed them as anything other than ‘witch’ or ‘terrors 1 and 2’. I spent the majority of my days avoiding as many people as I could really, though I found Marcus to be quite calming and consequently ended up with the Masters’ more often than not. It was with their encouragement I ended up confronting my two-arch nemesis, their gentle prodding that had led me into Alec’s arms in the end.

“God I’m sure your mother would weep if she could see you now!”

“She did! She wept and pleaded with the villagers tying us to the stake until they caved her head in with stones. How about yours?”

I cringed slightly, the memory as fresh as if it had been just yesterday. Jane had looked ready to roast me that day, while Alec had cut me down to size with his words. Their mother’s fate, their deaths, they were nothing such of tragic incidents that should never have occurred, not to these two. It had triggered a memory I had thought had faded as most other human memories had, though I could see no eyes in the soft, familiar features of my mother’s face given I couldn’t remember the colour of them. She had been reaching for me in my dreams for years, that single bloodied hand protruding from the wreckage of a car only I had escaped from haunted me to this day. How far I had strayed from the woman she would have wanted me to become.

“How could you forgive me?” I asked finally. Alec raised his eyebrows.

“For punching Demetri in the face? Quite easily. I found it entertaining.” He answered.

“Not for that! For…everything else. I was nothing short of difficult and downright cruel to you.” I reminded him. Alec tilted his head, quietly making a noise of understanding. It wasn’t so long ago Alec had asked me to marry him, at least, five years didn’t seem all that long for a vampire. He shifted till I was facing him, straddling his lap and chest to chest with our noses almost touching.

“I forgave you because I loved you, even then. I didn’t see cruelty, I saw hurt that never truly healed. Our scarred hearts were made for one another, even if you weren’t ready to accept it.” He murmured.

“But all those awful names I called you…” I sighed, closing my eyes as shame ate away at my insides. Alec chuckled.

“Some were quite inventive, I’ll give you that,” he said wryly, “Y/N…you replaced every bad memory with a good one. The time you gifted me that bookmark because you knew how much I loved to read? The memory of our first walk in the Garden’s together where you taught me all about gardening and when the best time of year to plant certain flowers was. Our first kiss, the first time you held my hand even. You made the effort to make it right.” He kissed my nose sweetly before capturing my lips with his. His every kiss had been intoxicating since our very first one, the sweet taste of his mouth on mine addictive, the way his lips moved a hypnotic dance I could forever get lost in performing with him over and over. When we parted I pressed my forehead to his.

“I do love you, you know.” I swore. Alec flashed me a smile.

“I know, you impossible little brat,” he teased, tugging my hair lightly, “Now will you please listen to what I’ve been so desperately trying to ask you all day now?” My eyes rolled, but I nodded.

“Make it worth my while, baby.” I teased.

“Don’t, you know I hate when you call me that,” he warned, though his lips twitched upwards, “Y/N, my impossibly stubborn, talented little beauty. I’ve never been in doubt you love me, and I hope I’ve never given you reason to doubt that I love you just as much. You challenge and enrage me daily, yet you are also my greatest comfort and strength when I need you to be. So stop being so bloody awkward and marry me already!”

“That wasn’t a question.” I pointed out, eyebrows raising. Alec groaned exasperatedly, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. My head tilted slightly.

If my day of reflection had done anything, it was show me how far I had come. I was no longer the same spoiled little girl I had once been. I had become a protector of our kind, and my journey with Alec had humbled my tongue. I was perhaps wiser, far kinder. I had not felt worthy of the mantle before but seeing him beneath me now, my love so ardent in his affection and persistent in his showing of it, I realised I had no need to be afraid – I had proven my worth to Alec tenfold. Gripping his chin, I forced him to look at me. He looked rather frustrated.

“This is the modern era Alec,” I scolded, “I will never say yes to your proposal.”

“But-“

“Because you are going to be saying yes to mine. Marry me, Alec.” I didn’t ask, more stated it. I knew he wouldn’t say no. With another exasperated groan he shook his head.

“You do make me work for it don’t you? So long as I slip a ring on your finger I really don’t care who asks who. Fine, I’ll marry you.” He leaned in but I pressed a single finger to his lips, preventing him from kissing me. His eyebrows arched into his hairline, almost as if to say ‘what now?’.

“It’ll be a Winter wedding.” I decided. A brief smile flashed his lips upwards.

“Spring.” He retorted.

“And the bridesmaids will wear emerald green.” I continued.

“Peach.” He countered, his smile growing as I pulled my finger from his lips.

“Oh and I want diamonds Alec, they’re a girls best friend.” I grinned, our noses brushing now.

“You’ll get a cereal box ring and be happy with it for all the waiting you’ve made me do.” He huffed. I didn’t get to protest, not when he smothered my mouth with his own, both of us laughing as we let the past be and looked forward to our future instead.

[dianthus-sy]

Day 16. December 25th, 2021, Saturday

hey guys. I hope you're all doing well in your lives, physically, mentally, socially, and emotionally. also, I haven't posted anything this month, so here I am.

and, most importantly, thank you for all the wishes on my birthday. I'm so grateful.

i read it recently- 'the average life span of humans is 75 years i.e. 900 months. And even in those 900 months, we spend so much time in doing things we don't want to do.'

have we ever thought about it? What do we want from our lives? Getting a 9 to 5 job, getting married, having kids, going over through the same routine, retire with a glorious name and fame, and enjoy the rest of the life on a couch ordering for things to be done our way? Is that it? Is it what we really want?

Why are we even working so hard in this bull race? It's because we want to adhere to the general life style pattern of a human, a timeline that is bound to be followed.

there's a lot of happiness in the world. don't work to just work, work for your inner peace, so that when you wake up the next day, all you feel is the kick to start fresh and learn something. Most importantly, running behind something we don't actually want make us sideline what is actually meant for us. (In a herd race, every grad in the country aims to crack upsc, but is it what you actually want, or are you following a herd? believe me or not, the stats say that for 50% of the people it's because they don't have anything else to try on, and 'upsc to try maarna banta hai'.) That is not what is asked from life. For people happiness is defined as being rich, buying Lamborghini, owning a penthouse, taking trips to Maldives, buying an iPhone. What do you even get from being materialistic? Loneliness, for one.

Have you ever wondered how much happiness it gives to even make a child smile, to have a deep conversation with a friend at night, to just run across the town with your favourite music on or probably to sit with your family and friends and reminisce the same old memories through albums.

Live life as it offers you, don't be so adamant on creating something extraordinary which will only satisfy your temporary demands. (If you're really passionate about civils, go for it. I'm not against it. If you really understood what I meant to say here)

Don't chase materialistic things or something else, just because everyone is after it.

Give yourself time to think, to introspect, to let your emotions sink deep to truly understand.

Go find love (that's the thing I say the most, though I have a completely different perspective, but never mind), it'll give you strength. You'll love the feeling, honestly.

Go find happiness in small, petty things. Watch a sunrise, still. Go on hiking, trekking (I, for one, love adventure). Enjoy nature in its raw form.

Chase YOUR dreams, not somebody else's that you've made yours (this is the essence of everything I've written). Stop running, just come to rest for a while, enjoy the moment and pass on.

My friend had questioned on social media- why do people hide their faces when somebody takes their picture spontaneously. It's because they want perfect pictures to recall the perfect moments of how beautiful they looked. But that's completely wrong. Candids are beautiful, why? Because they capture the lovely, beautiful moments that were behind the photo, so that when we look at the photo after years, we remember the actual moments that brought us joy.

(sorry for the typos, if any) (also, listen to the song, it has my whole heart. if you love someone, then just play the song for them. it'll say all the unsaid)

Also guys, I forgot. MERRY CHRISTMAS!!

Till then, stay safe, stay innocent, stay happy and stay young for as long as you can.

You are loved and cared for. you matter!

With much love and care

Ghanishthta ;-)

[waterparchive]

Woodrow Whyte — May 19, 2021

"I don’t know if I want a lot of musicians I love to know I exist because then the possibility of them thinking I suck comes into play"

To quote a famous drag queen, the cheek, the nerve, the gall, the audacity and the gumption of Waterparks to name their fourth album Greatest Hits. It's a bold statement but if anyone can pull it off, it's the Houston trio and their charismatic frontman Awsten Knight.

Like many releases this year, most of the record was written, recorded and produced during the pandemic, and the enforced downtime leant itself to introspective songwriting sessions.

"When you’re alone for so long, it takes a toll on you and forces you to examine yourself more", Awsten said in promotional materials for the album, before adding “When you hear this album, I hope you walk away feeling like there’s no other band doing anything like it. In my opinion, these are our Greatest Hits. As long as you go into it without expectations of prior things, I think it’s going to be your favourite fucking Waterparks album.”

Fans won't have long to find out if the Greatest Hits lives up to its name, as it drops this Friday. To tide you over until then, we asked Awsten to take a trip down memory lane with our My Life In 20 questions.

20) What did you learn about yourself in 2020?

I learned that I can stop using social media if I want to. I knew we weren’t gonna be doing anything so I took a good 6 months off and when it was time to come back in September, I really didn’t want to. I broke that addiction to checking Twitter all the time. It was cool though because we also grew a lot in that period, so I didn’t have to feel guilty for taking that time.

19) What was your favourite album from 2019?

FANDOM. I make all the songs I wish someone else would because they’d be my favourite band if they did. I’ll also say Igor, Amo, Weezer (Black Album), When We All Fall Asleep..., Anonymous, 7, prob some others but the wiki list is very long and I still have 18 questions to go.

18) What was the most important thing to happen in your life when you were 18?

Graduating high school, I guess? Getting a car was good too! I got my permit late because I was scared to drive and didn’t really care about going places, what a dope guy!

17) Who was your crush at 17?

I’m kinda blanking. Maybe Miley Cyrus?? Do people normally remember this stuff?

16) What can you remember about your 16th birthday?

I truly don’t remember it. I was probably wearing a studded belt if that helps though.

15) What did you hate at 15 which you love now?

I hated the straight edge youth crew dudes that would hang out at local venues and crowd kill when there were only like 40 people, like bitch you’re 28 and I’m 15, stop punching kids you my children my bride looking bitch good lordddd corniest dudes ever, looking like Christian Joe Dirt punching kids for scene clout.

14) What TV show were you obsessed with at 14?

I think 14 I was into Dexter. Amazing show but oh my god that ending. I didn’t have opinions back then about quality, but even at that time I was like 

13) 13 is unlucky for some. Do you have anything that you’re superstitious about?

I’m very superstitious. Before shows I need everyone to stay away from me and let me play solitaire. I don’t walk under ladders, you can’t split the pole when you’re walking with people, I sage myself when I come home from anywhere, whole lotta stuff, baby.

12) If you could live the life of any other person for 12 hours, who would you be and why?

Honestly I’m fine being me, but if it was just for like 12 hours uhhhhh Charlie Day so I can do that thing with my voice when he says “OOAH HELLLLAOOOH”

11) Who was your best friend when you were 11?

Everyone I was friends with before music was just a friend via proximity, like we were on the same sports teams or had the same classes. That’s how it is when you’re younger. You don’t choose that shit when you’re younger, you’re just like, 'You’re near me, what’s up do u like Captain Underpants?' That’s kinda the deal until you’re old enough to be picky. I remember being friends with these twin dudes on swim team Benito and Ernesto, shout out those dudes wherever they are!!!

10) Where do you hope you'll be in ten years time?

Somewhere the internet can’t find me. I hope I’m into some stupid shit like boats, no wifi on the water.

9) What was your biggest fear when you were 9?

Ghosts, I think. And yeah, I used to hear voices! Not dope!

8) When you were 8, what did you want to be when you grew up?  

I used to want to be an author/illustrator for kids books and an archaeologist! I’ll still do the kids books but, man, archaeologists have to be in the sun so much and I need to keep my skin cute so people buy my album. Greatest Hits May 21.

7) Which of the seven deadly sins are you most guilty of?

I just googled them for a refresher and it’s all anime. I’d either say envy or anger. By the way, who made this? It’s stupid as fuck that “anger” is a sin, like huh??????? Bitch I’ll kill you.

6) You can invite six people to your dream dinner party (dead or alive), who would you invite?

No dead people at my dinner party, gross smell. Here’s the thing, I don’t know if I want a lot of musicians I love to know I exist because then the possibility of them thinking I suck comes into play, and if someone like Donald Glover actively had the thought “god, Awsten sucks”, I’d be devastated. So I don't know if I want anyone in that realm to know who I am, I’m cool with loving them from afar.

I’m gonna say a group of people who have nothing to do with me. Like, 6 people who are working on the next Conjuring movie and I just wanna listen in on them and be like, “holy shit??????” I love y’all so much. Quick shout out Lin Shaye.

5) Name five things you can't live without.

Besides the obvious ones: dogs, personal space, sunglasses that cover most of my head, coffee, and tennis/biking. I need to tire myself out as much as possible or I get moody.

4) Describe yourself in four words.

Capricorn. Flexible. Weirdly tall.

3) Your top three songs of all time.

The Beach Boys - 'Wouldn’t It Be Nice', Rihanna - 'Bitch Better Have My Money', and Macklemore - 'Thrift Shop'.

2) Name two things on your bucket list.

A platinum Waterparks album, get a horror music video produced by Blum House.

1) What or who is your one true love?

Having one true love would be scary! Too much emphasis on one thing, too much to lose; can’t put that much on one person either! That’s a crazy level of pressure and expectation! Also Gwen Stefani.