#the last two lines of the chorus are actually me stitching together stuff i pulled out of the translations

[astranauticus]

So I finally decided to sit down and tackle Set Me Free (超度我) by FloruitShow, aka the most recent holder of the coveted 'oh I love this song but it's fucking untranslatable' spot in my brain, also a song I can confidently recommend by saying I can almost guarantee you've never heard anything like it before. Give it a listen! I promise you won't regret it

Note: the reason this song is such a pain in the ass is because the chorus consists almost entirely of quotes directly from the Diamond Sutra, so translated lines in bold are lines I took from this translation, with some help from this site. Usually I take pride in saying translations by me but let's just say translating the Diamond Sutra is... a bit beyond me

超度我 - Set Me Free

来不及

There's no time left

最后一句想你来不及让你知道

No time left to tell you one last 'I miss you'

再也回不去

We can't ever return

那个有彩虹出现的下午

To that afternoon when the rainbow appeared

再也感受不到你温度

I won't ever feel your warmth again

如果你留我在梦里

If you could leave me in my dreams

我会放弃呼吸

I will give up my breath

请 超度我

Please, set me free

若以色见我以音声求我

If one sees me in form, if one seeks me in sound

是人行邪道 不 不能见如来

He practices a deviant way and cannot, cannot see the Tathāgata

一切有为法 如梦幻泡影

All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows

如露亦如电 应作如是观

Like dew drops and lightning flashes, contemplate them thus

非空非有 亦空亦有

Present yet absent, existent yet non-existent

不生法相 无所住

Do not conceive of Dharmas, have a mind of no abode

非空非有 亦空亦有

Present yet absent, existent yet non-existent

不生法相 无所住

Do not conceive of Dharmas, have a mind of no abode

对不起

I'm sorry

不经意就在你的影子里活下去

It's so easy to live on in your shadow

我不在意

But I don't mind

不过是白日梦里一瞬息

It's just a moment in a daydream

为何还起念动心

Why does my heart still stir?

怪你名字太熟悉

It's all because your name is so familiar

当我是一花一叶一春木

If I could be a flower, a leaf, a spring sapling

可否回到世界之初

Could we return to the beginning of it all?

请 超度我

Please, set me free

若以色见我以音声求我

If one sees me in form, if one seeks me in sound

是人行邪道 不 不能见如来

He practices a deviant way and cannot, cannot see the Tathāgata

一切有为法 如梦幻泡影

All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows

如露亦如电 应作如是观

Like dew drops and lightning flashes, contemplate them thus

非空非有 亦空亦有

Present yet absent, existent yet non-existent

不生法相 无所住

Do not conceive of Dharmas, have a mind of no abode

非空非有 亦空亦有

Present yet absent, existent yet non-existent

不生法相 无所住

Do not conceive of Dharmas, have a mind of no abode

我的执念 万千千千

My obsessions, hundreds of thousands

放不下地 放不下天

I can't let go of the earth, I can't let go of the sky

我把红线折折剪剪

I cut and fold at the red string

落入凡间镜重圆

I fall to the mortal realm to seek reunion

[thecat-inthehat]

23. Shuffle

I’m supposed to be asleep already fuckkkkkkk i’ve got WORK tomorrow

----

The distinctive thwap of cards being shuffled echoed throughout the Bookman’s shelves, and Helisent watched as Nive carefully selected a card and laid it down onto the table. Next to her, Urianger brought his hand to his chin, considering the card closely. Neither spoke a word, merely considering the complex cross pattern they were creating on the table. Urianger waited for a moment, and then pulled out his own card from his deck, and set it down, laying it perpendicular to the one Nive had placed. 

“What are they doing…?” Minfilia asked quietly, coming to sit next to Helisent. She had one of the mysterious “cartridges” between her fingers, flipping it over and over in her hand, and it glowed slightly as she channeled aether into it. “I’ve seen Urianger use cards before, and even predict a few future events, but nothing like this.” 

Hel grinned slightly, and her fingers didn’t waver from the stitching she was working on. “A twelve scale divination. Each of their ‘combat decks’ has eighteen cards, with three of each of the set of six, and they can use those to perform a divination with twelve cards.” 

Minfilia frowned slightly, tilting her head. “I thought the ‘twelve’ was an important number for Eorzeans, isn’t it? So shouldn’t they have twelve cards in their combat decks?” 

“I asked that too,” Hel admitted, looping one of the stitches around the leather she was fixing. “Nive said that her deck is printed upright, reversed, and on it’s side, corresponding to Solar, Lunar, and Celestial seals. Combat wise, they all do the same thing, with the Ewer making magic come easier, or the Bole bolstering defense, but with minute differences. To perform a basic divination, an Astrologian needs one of each seal.” 

“Multiples of three, then?” Minfilia asked, squinting at the cards that lay on the table. “Because three goes into twelve four times, and then out of a deck of eighteen cards…” 

“Admittedly it’s a lot more math than I’m comfortable with,” Hel shrugged. “Astromancy toes the line between art and science, with a lot of math involved. Urianger’s good, but Nive is better.” 

Minfilia looked up at that, her crystal-sapphire eyes widening, and Hel had to fight to keep the instinctual shudder out of her shoulders. From a distance, they were almost like dunesfolk eyes, but this close it was clear that they were otherworldly and unnatural. 

“But Nive uses arc--arcanima? Was that it? I thought she only did damage with the pets that follow her around, like those carbuncles.” She asked, more confused than before. 

“Nive has a bloodline heritage,” a new voice said, coming closer to them. Hel and Minfilia looked up to see Shining set her pack and bow down, and then give a groan as she sat on the couch next to them. 

“A… bloodline heritage?” Minfilia asked, frowning in confusion. “Do you mean that she’s descended from a line of Astrologians?” 

Shining smiled at her, giving a nod. “Aye. Nive’s mother, and her mother’s mother, they were all Astrologians, and had a history. Nive’s deck was actually her mother’s, which is why it’s a little more worn than Urianger’s.” 

“If you have a family that tends to specialize in a certain branch of magic over the course of generations, then eventually even the ‘weakest’ members of that family can have a lot of innate power,” Helisent explained. “Granted, that tends to mean that they can become overspecialized, and have a hard time learning any other branches, but the talent is there. Nive could predict the future when we were eight, and just seem to know things by looking at the stars.”

“But she … doesn’t use it. I didn’t even realize she could use cards like Urianger until he asked her for help with a divination.” Minfilia said, swinging her head left and right to look at both women. 

“Mmhm,” Shining nodded. “She was never formally trained, and had to figure out a lot of stuff on her own, or by asking Sharlayan Astrologians. She knew the basics, and had an innate talent, but she had already settled on Arcanima as her primary tool by the time she really learned.” 

“That isn’t to say she’s not capable, though,” Hel murmured, looking over at the two Astrologians pouring over the card that was just placed. Nive’s tail twitched, then twitched the other direction. “She’s just as good a healer as I am, and she’s very quick with her cards, she thinks fast. But ultimately, her talents lie in defeating the enemies we encounter, while mine are better suited to heal.” 

Shining gave a shrug, and reached for the table, grabbing one of the muffins the pixies had produced for them all. Hel wouldn’t touch it, but Shining had apparently made friends with many of the fae in the years that she had been on the First. She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully, watching the divination as well, and then looked back at Minfilia. “If you want another example, my songs are a gift of my bloodline heritage. And if you squint, your powers as the Oracle could be considered something similar.” 

Minfilia tilted her head, kicking her feet slightly. “Really? I thought I had heard multiple voices singing with you before…” 

Shining nodded, finishing off her muffin. It was made hyur sized, and didn’t last more than a couple bites. “Mmhm. My ancestors all sing through me, and when I pass on into the Lifestream, my own voice will join to the chorus. But ultimately I’m more like Nive -- I don’t really use my talents, or I push them to work for something else. Out of the three of us, I’m the most magically powerful, but I don’t cast straight spells often.” 

“And by a large margin, too,” Hel said, poking another hole through the leather, and sewing some more pieces together. “Circumstances of her conception, and all that.” 

“We’re not talking about my parents having crazy wild drunk sex,” Shining deadpanned. 

Minfilia squawked, a blush rising to her cheeks, and she covered her mouth. The motion was so like Minfilia that Helisent had to look away, knowing that she couldn’t afford to see her friend in the child’s face. It wasn’t fair. To … anyone, really. 

“Yes, please, let’s not talk about that,” Hel rolled her eyes, and held up the harness she was almost done with. “Minfilia, could you stand? I want to make sure I got your measurements right.” 

Minfilia blinked in surprise, and gently set down the cartridge, going to stand. “You … made something for me?” 

“Mmhm. Lift up your arms?” Hel let the harness hover over Minfilia’s shoulders, and nodded. “Alright, almost done. Thancred said you had lost most of your gear after the Eulmorans captured you, and the Mean only had time to make you the daggers and some basics.” 

Minfilia’s face fell, and she opened her mouth to apologize, when Shining gently put a finger to her lips. 

“Helisent didn’t do this out of any sort of admonishment. She saw that you needed gear, and made it for you. You don’t need to apologize for getting captured. We’ve all been in bad situations before.” Shining smiled gently, and squeezed her shoulder. 

“A-alright,” Minfilia said, clearly unsure of what to say. She twisted her fingers together, and then nodded, deciding to simply sit down again. “Thank you.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t say it’s as good as the stuff in the Mean,” Helisent shrugged, and ruffled Minfilia’s hair. “But Shining was able to barter for some glider skins, and I thought you could use some more protection than just the dress and shorts.” 

“My thanks, Helisent,” Urianger called across the room, looking up briefly from the divination. “Words ill convey the feverish worry that overcame me upon seeing Minfilia without her proper vestments.” 

“I’m not that great, but I can at least make some decent protective gear,” Hel shrugged, and stuck her tongue out between her teeth as she finangled with a more tricky stitch. “Really, though, it’s kind of--” 

Nive’s sudden gasp cut her off, and instantly Shining, Helisent, and Minfilia were all crowded around the table, looking at the haphazard mess of cards. Urianger’s attention was stolen back to the cards as well, and his lips pulled down into a frown. 

“Forgive me, but I do not see…” He started, tracing his finger along the lines. A reverse Bole, a reverse Spire, and Nive had just laid down a reverse Ewer. The Ewer laid at the top of the triangle, pointing the whole trifecta upwards. 

“... That’s bad, right?” Shining asked, her brows furrowing together. 

Nive inhaled, and stepped back from the table slightly, going to rub her temples. “It depends, but … generally, yeah. It’s bad. Reverse cards, all with ‘dark’ aspected elements, with them coming out on top of the rest of the divination…” 

“What’re we in for?” Helisent asked, looking down at the cards. Urianger’s set was beautiful and new, but the art was made by someone who didn’t understand what he had been asking for, and could only replicate it as best as they were able. Nive’s set was worn and old, but each card was tangibly hers, with a sort of history and weight to them that seemed to demand attention. 

“If I had to hazard a guess,” Nive started, her tail waving just slightly, “we’re being followed by an Ascian. And not just any Ascian, but a red mask. I’d … probably go so far as to say someone on par with Lahabrea, or Elidibus.” 

“Lahabrea was a chump, though,” Hel protested. 

“A chump that only died after he was battered and broken by us, and then slain by a primal fueled by two of Nidhogg’s eyes and a millennia of prayer,” Nive reminded her darkly. “And that was after we had forcibly expelled him from Thancred, and sent him fleeing back to the Rift. We seriously wounded him at the Praetorium, and he must have been still recovering from that.” 

“I love hearing about your wacky adventures when I wasn’t there,” Shining muttered. “So what, another Ascian is coming for us? It’ll die like the rest.” 

“... You didn’t have to fight Elidibus,” Hel muttered, hugging herself as she tried not to recall the memory. 

“Whatever is coming for us, we need to be ready,” Nive said firmly. “Take extra precautions, check people’s shadows to make sure they have one. We’re trying to prevent a Calamity, and that’s the Ascian’s number one goal. Of course we’re going to find one skulking about.” 

Shining snorted, giving a small shrug. “Well… Whoever they are, I hope they’re at least amusing.” 

[sml8180]

Ego Christmas - Day 25 - Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, everyone! And a happy fourth day of Hanukkah to any Jewish followers who might be reading this! This post was scheduled ahead of time, so that I couldn’t forget to put this up. I hope that everyone is having a great day!

Merry Christmas

Breakfast ran long, it always did on the holidays, but that was fine, nobody had to go anywhere, anyways. After everything was cleaned up, the Egos all moved into the living area, where gifts were all set under the tree as the lights twinkled.

“Alright, everyone gather ‘round!” Wilford called out. “Everyone in a circle, you guys know how this works, by now.”

Everyone worked to arrange the sofas and armchairs into a circle, moving the coffee table out of the way to make more room. As they all settled down, with Dark, Wilford, and the twins closest to the tree, everything began. They started with the stockings, which hung up on the fireplace and on the wall surrounding it. Each one was simple, a red stocking with a white cuff, with the name of an Ego stitched in shimmering red thread. The stockings were filled with different candies, and a handful of small gifts that would likely keep each of their interest as the gifts under the tree were given to the correct Ego.

Dark, Wilford, and the Jims worked well together to get all the gifts out to the others, in a way they had clearly been perfecting over the years. Dark and Wilford would read the names on the gift tags, and each Jim was silently assigned to work with one of them to get the gift to the correct person. The twins clearly enjoyed the little job, each one wearing a red and green elf hat, while Wilford and Dark wore Santa hats - though Dark initially put on a grumpy facade, it didn’t last, and he was soon smiling with the others.

“Before we get too far into things,” Dark spoke up, calling all the Ego’s attention to himself. “We all need to take a moment to celebrate that this is the first of hopefully many Christmases with the newest members of this chaotic family of ours. Eric, Reynolds, Magnum, Yancy, and Illinois; I hope this ends up one of many holidays we all spend together.”

A chorus of agreement met the five Egos, making Eric blush and hide his face in Illinois’ shoulder, as Reynolds laughed a bit, patting the man’s back.

“Alright, well, go ahead, everyone,” Dark urged, chuckling as Wil kissed his cheek. “The gifts won’t open themselves.”

Bim was one of the first to open a gift, the one he’d gotten from King, tearing away the wrapping and opening up the box to reveal a glittery purple suit with black lapels, and a matching tie. He smiled brightly, hugging King tight and drawing a laugh from the man. King, meanwhile, opened his gift from Bim, ripping away the wrapping paper to reveal a somewhat cylindrical bundle. A check of the tag revealed that it was actually a couple’s sleeping bag, perfect to go on the bed in the tree house King had in the woods that surrounded the manor, for a little extra warmth.

Silver opened up his gift next, surprised to have gotten a gift from Ed of all people. The wrapping paper actually contained two items, one being a set of blackout curtains for Silver’s room, which lead to him looking to Ed for an explanation.

“You get home at weird times,” Ed reasoned. “Sometimes it’s only a couple hours until the sun’s up, and I know the light comes in your window pretty early. With any luck, these’ll help you actually get some sleep.”

“That’s, actually really thoughtful, Ed,” Silver replied with a smile. He then proceeded to open up the box that had been with the gift. The box contained some black and white fabric, and at first, the superhero was once again confused, until he started to pull whatever it was out of the box. “No, you didn’t…” he began, trailing off as he pulled out a mask that looked much like the one he wore on a regular basis, though it was clearly a bit nicer and had a cleaner design.

“You’ve had the same costume since you were created. It was time for an upgrade,” Ed told him. “Jackie helped with that one, y’know, with the design and all that, and Eric helped to actually make it, but the original idea was mine. I guess it’s kinda from all three of us.”

“I love it! And if Jackie was behind part of this, I know it’s gonna be good, and Eric, kid, you’ve fixed my suit so many times since you got here, I’ve lost count. You guys are great,” Silver beamed, hugging Eric and then, surprisingly, pulling Ed in for a quick hug.

Magnum opened his gift next, seeing that it came from Reynolds. The wrapping contained a box that had a kit to build a model ship in a bottle. Reynolds hadn’t been sure what the large man would like, but he felt that a model pirate ship to display in his room would be interesting, and he’d noticed how careful he was with smaller things, so it seemed right. The captain smiled brightly, pulling the construction worker into a big bear hug.

Reynolds opened his gift next, his face lighting up as he shifted the box and heard the telltale sound of Lego bricks shifting inside. He tore open the wrapping to reveal a large set that seemed unfamiliar to him, but familiar at the same time, seeing as the box had an image of the manor on it.

“What’s this? It’s not an official set, is it?” the construction worker questioned.

“It-it’s a custom set!” Eric told him. “Dark, Wil, Bing, and I all pitched in and-and had a set made from the manor’s floor plan! You’ve got a lot of great sets, and I remember you saying that the manor would make a fun one, e-especially if it was all different sections that you could put together. So, Dark and Wil found the plans, and Bing drew up the actual stuff and submitted it to one of Dark’s contacts who actually got it made. I did all the box art.”

“That’s so cool! You guys are amazing!” Reynolds exclaimed, hugging those responsible for the gift.

The Host was next to open up his gift. The package didn’t have any wrapping paper on it, but rather, it was in a simple unmarked box with a ribbon tied around it, and a tag written by hand and in Braille, indicating that it came from Dr. Iplier. He undid the ribbon and opened the box, forcing his Sight for a moment to find that the box contained some high quality parchment and a nice calligraphy set with a quill, a few different writing tips that could be put on it, and a few different colors of ink. Meanwhile, Dr. Iplier opened his gift from the Host, smiling and breaking out into a bit of a blush when he found a couple of travel mugs, one which looked like the TARDIS from Doctor Who, and one covered in the print of the exploding TARDIS piece.

Google and Bing opened each others gifts, next. Google lit up when he pulled out a new set of small tools to use for his glasses and other small projects, along with a white suit jacket that would fit him perfectly. Bing practically threw himself at Google when he unwrapped a set of three dot grid notebooks to use for whatever he might need, along with a pack of pens.

Illinois opened his gift up next, finding a new bag to use during his expeditions. Eric explained that he felt that he could use something other than the cross-body satchel he was using, especially since he’d reported that it sometimes got in the way while he was climbing.

Next up was Eric, who was careful with the small gift in his hands. He undid the wrapping, and opened up the hinged box, finding a silk scarf folded inside. Carefully, he pulled the scarf out, marveling at the soft material and the light blue, green, yellow and purple pattern. There was something else, though, something heavier wrapped up in the scarf. Unfolding the thin fabric, he gasped at what he found. There was a necklace inside, with a black cord that wrapped around the smooth heart-shaped stone. The cord was tied into a pair of sliding knots, which would allow Eric to adjust the length of the necklace easily. Eric was rendered speechless.

“I found the stone a while back on an expedition, and thought you’d like to have it,” Illinois explained, somewhat sheepishly. He chuckled as Eric hugged him tight, and pulled him into a kiss.

“It’s perfect,” Eric told him, a bright smile on his face as he pulled the necklace on over his head, fiddling with the stone.

Ed opened up his gift, smiling to find that Silver had given him a set of hooks he could put up on his wall to display his hats and lasso. It would really help with organization, no doubt; those things took up space in his closet, on his bookshelf, and on his dresser. The twins each opened up their gifts at the same time, finding that they had gotten one another updated equipment.

Wilford opened up his gift next, breaking into a bright smile when he found a picture frame with five different windows. Four had photos of Wil and Dark together, at various points of their relationship, with the fifth and largest photo being one from their wedding. The photo had been taken from the isle, getting Wilford, Dark, Bim, Host, and the pastor who oversaw things in the shot, along with the ornate flower arrangement and large tree under which they had wed. It was one of Wilford’s favorite photos from that day, and he hugged his husband tight, kissing him.

Dark was next, tearing away the wrapping paper and opening the box to find a display of the solar system with a small dial and read out on the base. When he opened it, the planets were all lined up, and Dark simply raised an eyebrow in question as he looked to his husband.

“Google helped me with this,” Wil began. “It’s got a few different dates; the day we met, our engagement, and our wedding day, and a few others, all on the dial, and a setting where it’ll just run in real time. The planets all move when you pick a setting, so they’ll be in their proper place for that time. If you pick our wedding day, the planets all go to where they were the day we said “I do”,” he stated.

The demon looked to Google, who nodded in response. He then turned the dial so that the date of their first meeting was on the display, and pressed the dial down until it clicked. His mouth fell open in awe as the little planets rotated under the glass dome, stopping when they reached their proper positions.

“Wil… I don’t know what to say…” he finally breathed, still in awe over the gift.

“You don’t need to say anything,” Wilford stated, kissing his husband once again. “Your reaction says enough.

Dark smiled, looking around for a moment before snapping his fingers, spotting that one Ego hadn’t opened a larger gift like all the others had, and didn’t even have one by him. “I almost forgot, give me a moment,” he stated, handing the gift he had in his lap over to Wilford before standing. The demon tore open the Void and stepped through, returning a moment later with a box wrapped in silver wrapping paper. “This one is yours, Yancy,” he specified, handing off the gift to the former inmate.

Yancy set the box in his lap, running his fingers over the shiny wrapping paper, before giving Dark a quick look. Upon Dark making a silent motion for him to simply go on and open his gift, the former inmate tore away the wrapping and opened the lid of the box. He pulled a black case out of the box, setting the wrapping aside so the case could sit on his lap. The man ran his fingers over the clasps of the case, before he flicked them open with a soft click. With a deep breath, he opened up the lid of the case, and let out a shocked gasp.

“A violin?” he questioned, wanting to confirm the sight through his surprise. “How did youse know that I…?”

“I made a couple of calls and found out. I have my ways,” Dark stated calmly.

Yancy gave a bit of a nod, pulling the instrument out of the case to get a better look. It was clearly old, but well made, with intricate details on the pegs and scroll. He was in silent awe of the gift, and a similar silence had fallen over the entire room. 

“Where did youse get this…? These ones ain’t cheap, and they ain’t easy to find, either.”

“It belonged to an old friend, originally,” Dark stated. “He passed some time ago, and left it to me. I can’t play, but when I learned that you’re musically inclined, I thought it would make a good gift for you. An instrument like that doesn’t deserve to sit and collect dust.” He wasn’t exactly lying, not in full, at least. He physically couldn’t play the violin anymore, thanks to the broken body he inhabited. It hadn’t belonged to a friend, though; the violin had belonged to Damien once upon a time. But, that time was long past.

“It’s amazing,” Yancy stated, carefully setting the violin back into the case. “Thank you, so much.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve gotten through everyone,” Wilford observed, looking over the room. “I think this was a great Christmas.”

“That it has been, Wil,” Dark confirmed, smiling.

Indeed, it had been a very merry Christmas, for everyone in the manor.

[yoursweatsmellslikecinnamon]

The Music In You

Beca just wants to finish a piece of music she’s been working on, but when Chloe gets home she has other ideas - ideas that involve dancing with her favourite roommate. 

When Beca gets home early from a particularly frustrating studio day and drops her bag by the door, the first thing she notices is the quiet. She takes a deep breath and exhales, feeling the stress of the day come off her shoulders as she realises she is finally alone. Living with two other girls in a studio apartment doesn’t give her a lot of alone time, and she relishes these moments.

She moves around the room, changing into her sweats and grabbing an open bag of Doritos from the counter before settling at the table to set up her equipment. She doesn’t get many chances to work on her own stuff anymore, especially not at home in her own space. Amy doesn’t know how to entertain herself (Beca swears that’s why she always ends up getting into the kind of shit she does), and Chloe just likes to have conversation with people after spending all day with animals who can’t talk back. She doesn’t mind it most of the time - Amy is quality entertainment and a fiercely loyal friend, and Chloe is… well, Chloe - but she does miss sitting down without any distractions and shutting out the world as she gets lost in her music. She throws on her headphones, pulls up a loop she jotted down a couple of weeks ago and, after listening through a couple of times to find her place, gets lost in creating.

As Chloe turns her key in the lock, she’s surprised not to hear any voices coming from inside. Usually by this time Amy and Beca would both be home, with Beca trying to do something useful while Amy distracts her with (at least partially-true) accounts of her day in the Fat Amy Winehouse box.

She walks in to find Beca sitting at the table with her back to the door, her ears covered by headphones almost as large as her head and squiggly lines all over her computer screen. She’s tapping her finger on the table along with what Chloe imagines is the beat she’s created, and doesn’t notice as the redhead kicks off her shoes and throws her bag on the bed. A quick scan of the empty bed behind the clothes rack and the open bathroom door tells her Amy isn’t here and for a full minute she stands watching her best friend engrossed in the music, tapping a rhythm Chloe can clearly follow. It’s upbeat, and if Beca’s nodding head and concentrated stare is anything to go by, it’s good.

Beca is drawn out of her zone by a sudden rush of cold air hitting her ears as her headphones are pulled back down around her neck.

“Chlo?” she asks before she spins around, knowing that even with the music blasting in her ears, Amy would never have made it in the door and right up behind her without creating some sort of alert to her presence.

“Hey Becs,” Chloe smiles, able to hear more of the sound now coming from around Beca’s neck. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, just some stuff,” Beca blushes. “It’s not any good yet, I’m not finished.” She knows she’s good at what she does, but the process to get to the final product can be slow and a bit messy. She never shares her work until it’s 100% done and she’s happy with it – which can cause problems at the label when she plays her track to an artist and they want to make changes to it. No, this is it, she tries to persuade them. This is what you want, trust me, that’s why I’m here – to make your track better. It’s gotten her into trouble more than once, and lost her work from at least a couple of clients.

“Can I?” Chloe asks softly, gesturing towards the headphones.

“Chlo, it’s nothing yet. Please-“ but before she can finish her sentence, Chloe swoops down to the table over her shoulder and flicks the headphone jack out of Beca’s laptop.

“Boundaries, Beale,” Beca sulks as the loop she’s been creating fills the apartment. There’s a beat, with different drum sounds, a bassline that sounds like a cello, and random smatterings of other sounds and patterns. It really is just the skeleton of a track with a few bits being fleshed out and tried on for size, but nonetheless it’s catchy and Chloe’s foot starts tapping out the beat.

“Dance with me,” she instructs.

“Chloe, you can’t dance to this,” the aspiring producer grumbles as her best friend starts shimmying and twirling with the beat. ‘It’s not even music yet.”

“Beca Mitchell,” Chloe scolds, “I can dance to whatever I like. And you are going to join me.” She tries to pull Beca up from the chair, but the smaller girl is surprisingly strong. “You are going to dance with me whether you like it or not, grump,” she insists, “and if you don’t, I’ll tell Amy exactly where you hide the good cookies.” A sharp intake of breath is the desired result, and Beca doesn’t disappoint.

“Fine, fine, I’ll dance with you. But at least let me put on an actual song.” She turns back to the computer and selects a different mix, one which has a title the girl behind her can’t quite see. As the opening riff of Shakira’s ‘She Wolf’ starts, with an undercurrent of something else Chloe can’t quite place, Beca finally stands up and drops her headphones on the table, turning to face the infuriating redhead. She taps her foot to the beat a couple of times, arms folded, eyebrow raised, before Chloe grabs her arm and twirls her. It so doesn’t fit the song and is so unexpected that before she knows it, Beca finds herself giggling and giving in to the beat, leading Chloe in a series of cheesy dance moves that even as the Bellas they had rejected, but never forgotten.

It’s when Beca holds one hand up to her ear miming a cellphone and swings her other arm around her body that Chloe figures out Michael Jackson’s Bad is the other song in the mix. They had been planning to use it in a piece for the regional competition in Beca’s Junior year, but decided against it when they found out one of their competitors was the “Billie Screams,” an all-Michael Jackson cover group with a name that unfortunately matched their level of talent. Not only had the song been cut from their mash-up that year, so had the accompanying dance moves suggested by a local choreographer they had hired at Aubrey’s suggestion, which had them all in stitches during rehearsals.

As they dance together in the four-foot space between the table and their bed, howling along every time the chorus comes through, Beca finds herself with the kind of grin on her face that only Chloe can put there. They’re being absolute dorks, and she would die if anyone ever saw this, but when she’s here with Chloe, just the two of them, she secretly likes being the matching half to the goofball that is Chloe Beale.

When the song finishes, in the time it takes for them to catch their breath, a slower mix starts to play. Chloe doesn’t recognise it at all, but she does recognise the slight flush that creeps up Beca’s neck to meet her already-red face. It’s one of Beca’s features that she sees often and knows well.

“I can turn it off,” Beca scrambles, reaching for her laptop.

“No, don’t.” Chloe puts her hand out to slow the brunette down, closes her eyes and sways in time to the music. After a couple of seconds, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, she grabs Beca’s hand and pulls her closer, placing her other hand around the girl’s waist.

“Dance with me,” she instructs again, this time softer as she sways and Beca is forced to follow the movement of the older girl’s hand wrapped around her body. She gives into it just as easily as the last time, knowing that when it comes to Chloe Beale, she will never say no. She tucks her head into Chloe’s collarbone, finding the space under her chin a perfect fit.

“Chlo?” After a few seconds Beca looks up and falls deep into the ocean of the taller girl’s gaze.

“I think I might love you, Beca Mitchell,” Chloe states, as simply as if she were announcing that it’s going to rain tomorrow.

And because it is Chloe and everything with Chloe is simple, and Chloe has always been the one Beca thinks of first when she is happy, or sad, or sees a puppy, and because Chloe is the one who makes her dance like nobody is watching, and pushes her boundaries to the point Beca doesn’t know where they are anymore, and because Chloe is the biggest fan of her music even when it’s just bones and no meat, and because she would give anything to put a smile on the redhead’s face, and because when a song like this comes on around Chloe her first instinct is to turn it off and run away, Beca thinks she might love Chloe too.

“Okay,” she responds, not quite ready for anything more when the truth is still hitting her in waves of light and rainbow colors, much like Chloe herself.

“Okay.” Chloe repeats, and because it is Beca she doesn’t push.

Amy comes down the corridor to find soft music coming from behind their door. It’s not something any of them would normally listen to, but then again she wouldn’t normally turn the handle to be greeted with the sight of Beca’s back, pressed into Chloe’s body as they rock back and forth in time to the music. Chloe lifts her head as she sees the door open, pressing a finger to her lips, silently begging Amy to just not be Amy for once and let them have this moment.

Beca hasn’t noticed the new arrival, or if she has she’s too enamoured by whatever she’s found in Chloe’s collarbone to move her head away. As tempting as it is to bound in and yell something about finally catching them after all these years, there’s something in Chloe’s eyes which makes Amy take pity on the girl. This might be her apartment, but everyone has always known it’s Chloe and Beca – even if they were too stupid to realise it – and she wasn’t about to be the one to stop Beca from finally getting a clue.

“You owe me,” she mouths to Chloe silently, winking as the door clicks shut in front of her.��

Beca leans away for a moment only to drown in Chloe’s eyes once more. Although she has so many questions and so few answers, she presses her lips to Chloe’s gently, swaying in time with a song that is no longer playing.