#these are like the lil illustrations you see when you open the volumes
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devilsrains · 3 months ago
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dear brother... (1974) by riyoko ikeda
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Goodnight, Aaron (Aaron Hotchner x OC) Chapter 2
Summary: Two hours into the trial day, Sebastian gets an extension on his time with Jack. 
AN: No Hotch this chapter, but we finally get to spend some time with Sebastian! I might alternate between Hotch and Sebastian's perspectives a few times. Oh, the wonders of third person!
Tagging: @sunlight-moonrise, @clean-bands-dirty-stories, @genevievedarcygranger, and @davidrossi-ismydad 
Chapter 1 // Masterlist // AO3 Link // Chapter 3
Of course, this had to happen on the first day when Sebastian hadn’t even thought about moving into their spare room. Hotch had been called away from the office – Arizona to be specific – and he was not hopeful about returning home by the end of the day.
“We’re gonna have to go back to my house, get some stuff so I can stay tonight,” Sebastian explained as they passed the doorman on the way to the garage. All three exchanged a friendly wave.
Into Sebastian’s blue budget hatchback Jack’s booster cushion was swung. Jack climbed up into it with relative ease, though there was that tell-tale slip on the way up that came from being distracted by the sight of many CDs in paper sleeves stacked in the open compartment. The one he chose to look at, while Sebastian was busy buckling him in then getting around to the driver’s seat, had blue ink writing out the track list. He thought he recognised a few of them.
Sebastian switched on the car engine, groaning loudly as the air conditioning smacked hot air into their faces. He flapped his hand in front of him in an effortless attempt to cool down. Then he switched the air con off altogether.
“What tunes do you like, Jack?”
“Me and Daddy like the Beatles.” He handed over his chosen CD over, one that did not mention the Beatles.
Sebastian hummed, restraining his comment about “white men on guitar” as he put on some sapphic folk, “How’s this instead?”
Throughout the playlist over to Sebastian’s bedsit, Jack bounced his legs. He seemed a little surprised, almost a bit offended, when Sebastian started singing along. He was also not very enthused about dancing beyond his leg jiving. Sebastian didn’t push for him to join in, only going as far to turn down the music a little bit so that his energy would match it.
The building that held Sebastian’s residence was far from grand. If anything, it sucked the souls of those who looked at it. The garage was mostly empty. Its concrete colour palette crumbled at the edges and Jack looked wary as Sebastian led him up the dingy stairwell – the lift was broken.
On the third floor Sebastian twisted the key then tugged his front door towards him. After a few seconds, the lock unstuck itself from the door and he was able to push into the room – letting Jack go first.
There was still a whiff of his favourite mango passion fruit candle in the air. First order of business therefore was opening the window, hoping that his landlord wouldn’t pop round for a visit and kick him out early for breach of contract. Once Jack was exploring the space, Sebastian beelined for his wardrobe, pulling his case from the top shelf.
“Your home is small,” Jack announced to the sitting room, still taking in the kitchenette.
“Yes it is,” Sebastian held up some shirts to his chest before turning to his charge, “What do we think?”
Jack approached them, his tiny hands touching the hem of the shirt with lush green ferns patterned over it, “I like this one.”
“Me too,” and Sebastian tossed it onto the top of the case, his purple shirt replaced on the rail, “That’s why I bought it. Best bit about being an adult, Jack, you can do what you like with your money.”
Jack nodded solemnly at his advice before leaping over onto his couch, dislodging a cushion and tangling himself in the throw.
“Hey Jack, you ever played ‘Crash Bandicoot’?”
It didn’t even matter what Jack’s reply was; Sebastian was already over and switching on his PlayStation. Best tactic as a nanny: kids were always distracted by screens.
Jack was happy to sit in Sebastian’s lap and hold his hands underneath Sebastian’s, much larger than his own. They taught him the jump, the spin mechanics, and directions to take across the menu before Sebastian selected one of the first levels.
“Thems the mangoes,” He said quietly, much to Jack’s delight, as they cracked open a crate of the juicy fruits.
“What’s the point?”
“The point? You gotta reach the end of each level. Reckon you can tackle this bit on your own while I pack up?”
A little nod was his answer. Sebastian untangled his legs from underneath Jack and left him on the couch.
Scouring his necessities, Sebastian would be lying to himself if he wasn’t half tempted to pack up his PlayStation. His reluctant conclusion was that he could survive a day without his console had crossed his mind. Maybe when his trial “day” was over and if he got the job.
“You mind if I take a photo to send to your dad?” Sebastian sat upon his suitcase in an effort to crush his wash bag into submission. Jack did not reply. “Jack? Jackaroo?”
“Hmm?” Jack looked away from the game
“Can I take your picture for your Dad please?”
“OK.”
Snapping a quick photo, Sebastian sent Jack a thumb’s up, “Thank you. Now back to your gaming, sir, the bandicoot is getting cold.”
Sure enough, Crash was shivering in the rain that was pouring over the level.
It was a little past lunchtime by the time the pair finished the Crash Bandicoot level and sung through their second drive-time karaoke – Jack a little more accepting of it this time. As a result, Sebastian didn’t spend long prepping the spare room. He just tossed his bag in and shut the door. His future self could deal with it.
Making the classic lunch that Jack enjoyed became one of the day’s many activities, Jack offering a tour of where all the food was kept whilst wielding a butter knife that had been dunked in a mug of boiling water. It had a bit of melted butter dribbling down onto his hands. A drop of it splashed onto Sebastian’s shirt when Jack, a little vigorously, gestured to the top shelf in the fridge where the chocolate was kept.
The Lego modelling was unpacked again once lunch was all eaten and cleared up. But for once, Sebastian wasn’t as immersed in the craft as Jack.
“What do you think of my music?” Sebastian finally asked.
Jack shrugged.
“You don’t have to like it. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
Jack shrugged again.
“How about we find some songs you really like and you can show me some of yours?”
Sebastian picked one song then Jack picked one, and so on and so forth. Each song was given a verdict and either left as it was or plonked into a playlist for when they were next in the car. Or cooking. Or doing anything where they could also jam.
As each new song started, Jack stepped a little bit closer to how he was behaving yesterday. He was even swaying in time with the song when he asked if Sebastian could recreate what they’d done with the spacecraft before, and he found more energy reserves when Sebastian choose an upbeat song to zoom about space to.
“Again, again!” Jack cried when “Mahoney’s Debut” by Alexandre Desplat clunked into “Brothers in Arms” by Junkie XL.
“Sorry bud, this one’s six minutes long and I’ve not got the energy for one minute more.”
When Jack slid down Sebastian’s legs like a slide, Sebastian rolled over to his phone and turned the volume way down.
“I don’t like this one.”
“Well, I do, and I would like to hear this one just a lil’ bit longer.”
Pouting, Jack began adding a new room to his spacecraft. But it faded by the time that Sebastian played Jack’s favourite Beatles song as thanks while he made dinner. Time passed much faster now that they were both enjoying themselves again.
Jack made his own way getting ready for bed. His pyjamas were already out on his bed, and he’d brushed his teeth shortly after putting them on. Cuddled up on the couch, two pairs of slippers dangling off the edge, Jack took control of Sebastian’s avatar and ran about the server to explore what had already been built until it was bedtime.
Tucking Jack in, Sebastian said, “You all good?”
“Can you read to me please?”
“Sure thing. What book do you want to read?”
Jack grabbed the book from his nightstand, “We’re reading ‘Danny Champion of the World’!”
“You and your Daddy?”
The little guy nodded, wriggling deeper into his bed sheets with glee. Sebastian bit the inside of his cheek.
“Well, we don’t want your Daddy missing out on Danny’s adventures. How about we pick up something else?”
“I like Where The Wild Things Are.”
Sebastian knelt beside the bed, his arm resting against on the mattress so that Jack could see the illustrations. He could see, and sometimes hear, Jack’s lips moving along with the words. As he grew sleepier, Jack would miss a syllable every now and again.
When Jack’s eyes were drooping shut more often than they were staying open, Sebastian eased the book shut, “What do you prefer for a goodnight, Jack? Kiss, hug, high five, or a wave?”
“Wave please.”
So, Sebastian placed the book back onto the shelf and waved as requested, “I’ll be in the spare room if you need me. Sleep tight.”
“Goodnight,” yawned Jack, his eyes closing as Sebastian switched off his lamp. Low orange light radiated from the little nightlight in the corner, keeping watch over Jack once the bedroom door was closed.
The thrilling task of tidy up time was always the worst part of Sebastian’s day. It was last thing, it was boring, and he was more often than not shattered. But future Sebastian – now present Sebastian – had no appreciate past Sebastian just chucking his bag into the spare room. He certainly would not appreciate these tasks being left ‘til the morrow.
Headphones and comfy wear made things a little sweeter. But by the time Sebastian was tucking himself into bed, it was ten to eleven, and he didn’t even care to think about how the spare room was devoid of anything personal or how all his belongings were still packed in a tiny case or his rucksack.
That was future Sebastian’s problem.
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wormmomma · 5 years ago
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tyler, the creator: the very queer discography review!!!
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Im bored of writing overly long threads on twitter so i wrote a look at tyler the creators discography and why hes gay and im gay and deserved to have his dick immortalized in gold when he dies. So tyler gregory okanma is a black man born in ladera heights california. He’s also my third favorite rapper and since he discovered my favorite rapper earl sweatshirt I guess he deserves goat status for that shit too. Tyler started his career around 17 years old as the ace the creator. He did features at the time with casey veggies and the inspirations in his flow to mf doom where already apparent even back then. From ace the creator mixtape you can already hear the very digital and jazz inspired pharrell production. Funny story if you look up any of his ace stuff now you'll mostly find some really old production that in the age of tyler the creator type beats doesn't really hold u all that great. From there Tyler went on to create odd futures and his first album bastard. He quite quickly followed up bastard with godlin. Goblin, bastard, and the OF tape vol.1 all feel pretty interconnected so im gonna speed round from worst to best. So odd future tape volume one is fun and punk and really crass, it's also completely eclipsed by odd futures other releases. I love odd future and the collective's ability too be both edgy teen skate rap garbage, and a risky artistic rap collective all at the same time. In odd future's first tape it seems pretty clear that tylers description of the groups early work as a bunch of niggas joking around in a studio is very apparent for better or worse. If you wanna get high with some friends can listen to some funny edgy and downright grimey tracks over left brains booking production skip this and listen to odd future's next mixtape but come back here to listen to some funny skits and a few proto mellowhype track with domo genesis. Goblin is Tyler's attempt to do a bigger darker more sprawling version of bastard but misses the mark. I like the album and I love singles on the album. Goblin the opening track is amazing and is a great look at tylers mental state attempting to live up to his newfound fame and anxiety about his infamy. I love yonkers and tron cat. Tyler says alot at this time that he doesn't make horrorcore and he's correct but the lack of emotional honesty and his immature deflections is really going off on all cylinders. If you dont wanna hear skits like “my bitch suck dick” and lines like “im not homophobic faggot” i would probably call it his worst album. Before i talk about bastard id like to go over his use of slurs and rape in his work. Tylers consistent lyrics about violence towards women and use of the lgbtq community really don't insult me. I feel like his lyrical content is filled with a clear look of how angry and insecure tyler was about not having a father or any way of processing his angst. Did he have to sound like a incel threatening to stalk and murder women who refuse to love him for over 3 albums? No, but i really enjoy looking at his early music. He doesn't shy away from how angry, sad and desperate he was at the time. That synthesis of need for fatherly love, anger from a lack of it and deteriorating mental state honestly makes the content more palatable. Also as a black trans women id rather hear tranny an faggot bars from a male rapper making intreeating music. Tyler at the time was being honest, angry and vulnerable not like eminem and action bronson who spit these bars with all the same rap bravado and violent anger toward women with zero pathos. Bastard is amazing, it's an intimate dark album. At the time it felt like it was tapping right into where I was at the time. The amount of mental anguish on bastards opening track really hit me. I was an angry kid with a lot of angst and bipolar disease so hearing a rapper yell about that same dysfunction really meant alot to me. The flows are amazing and it was a really good look at tylers ability to build a narrative. Wolf was tyler's next album. For a while wolf was my favorite album by tyler. His look at relationships and breakups on bimmer and ifhy are amazing and are expanded on his future releases. Find your wings and treehome are also a good look at his more melodic influence. It was such a good album I actually bought the mrech for and went to see Tyler at afropunk. Also hearing an entire song about the death of his grandma really hit me, my grandfather died around the same time. Cherry bomb was bad, now moving one. Ok im  joking i've listened to it two or three times but its really not worth going back to even though tyler put his all into it. The soul features and amazing production is worth listening to but even Tyler admits he rushed the album a little and that he needed to blow people away next time. Flower boy, is one of the most important albums in hip hop. That's it. Bar none. It was my favorite release of 2018. Flower boy is about tylers newfound isolation with his fame, and how he drives cars by himself in beautiful la vistas. Its also about how he’s gay (or bisexual). There are ALOT of stupid takes on this album. There is a contingency of tyler stans that think tyler has been “playing a character” since bastard. Now I'll admit that wolf haley and dr.teecee are clearly characters; they are also artists' representations of tyler's mental state. If wolf haley has adhd and no father that means tyler also has those issues. So whether or not Tyler is playing a character he has in fact “been kissing white boys since 2004”. I also have seen an insipid article that asks if “tyler the creator should be accepted into the lgbtq community” due to his homophobia? Much more controversial and actually homophobic and transphobic people are in this community hes tyler the creator, not milo yinnaoplous. I also dont think that it occurs to the reviewer that alot of gay men are very hmophobic before they come out and that self hate is very common. Lyrics like “im not gay i just wanna dance to some marvin” also has a much deeper context now. Listening to older releases you can see how in your face tyler was about his queerness. He even said he filmed himself kissing his friend Lucas to prove he wasn't a homophobe. I'm happy Tyler grew enough to make an album not only about being attracted to men but how lonely he felt in and out of the closet. As someone who came out as bisexual at the time it came at a perfect time. Being  gay is isolating and confusing and when you do you lose alot of friends and family. Garden shed, who dat boy, and 911 are real standouts. His collaboration with kali uchis was also so fucking smooth and she a born r&b star. Tyler gained a grammy nomination off the album and said he loved the feeling of finally making popular catchy music people wanna sing the lyrics too, so he followed it with igor. Igor opens with this addendum on the back of the physical album: 
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This might be fiction, this might be about igor but it is fully about tyler okanga. The album is very hard to parse and barely has any rapping. It's more of a pop experimental album with a lot of lofi synth production. Tylers production chops are full force here. Igor is melodic, sad and full of the same anger and obsession from his previous albums. Its just more mature and really gay, and i fucking love it. Tyler was dealing with a tumultuous relationship with a guy and his refusal to be with tyler exclusively. Its about a breakup. A love tragedy that only becomes more depressing after the argument on a boy is a gun, the breakup in my love is gone, and the sad slump back into needing closure in can we be friends. The album is fun to sing to, and fucking devestating. I've dealt with a lot of similar issues with love and obsession so to hear it so clearly illustrated on igor really hit me. I think the album becomes even more depressing with the unreleased track best interest, about tyler being a side nigga. This is the kind of music that's sometimes made in r&b and pop but never in rap. There was an interview where Tyler says he hated his voice which is why he edits it so evident on igor. Tyler also said he wanted to send these songs to rihanna and Justin Beiber but they didn't want them, as cool as it sounds. I'm happy tyler was able to tell his own story. I would also recommend magic wand since it's my favorite track on the album and kicks you in the face with how angry and heartbroken Tyler was at the time. 
Tyler is an artist that talks and speaks about how he feels all the time, he's also a person who feels enigmatic and mysterious somehow. I think it has to do with how constantly he's put to the side of his other hip hop contemporaries. He always seems to be making music Tom weird, controversial and experimental to be treated like asap rocky, vince staples, or the late mac miller. A fact that feels ironic since he worked with all of those artists, lil wayne, and even kanye west. I'm as big a stan for tyler as he is for Pharrell, if it wherent forever I'd never take rap seriously and would never have chosen to make my own music. As a black trans woman I find a lot of tylers work really relatable. I've been in alot of the angry hopeless situations Tyler talks about in his music. I think he's the artist who hits me the most on a personal level and yeah when i was depressed i sat in my bedroom and listened to bastard in my low moments. I like riding in the car and listening to all of flowerboy. Igor is amazing as well for almost half a decade it's been amazing growing up and hitting the same emotional beats Tyler went through5 in his work. Hearing about him coming out as gay ajd dealing with very similar backlash mad me feel less alone if im being honest. Tyler has said he wants to take a more production heavy role in the industry moving forward but he says that a lot, i think as long as he has a story to tell he's always going to make music. His music feels like a diary and I'm happy to read it and sonnet to it in all its beauty and ugliness. 
Hi my name is lua o'reilly i make music on soundcloud.com/wormmother
If you liked this review let me know and I'll do a look into earl sweatshirt.
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faeparrish · 5 years ago
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answer 21 questions and tag 21 mutuals you would like to get to know better! (thank you @psychicadam for tagging me💘) 
nicknames: molly isn’t a long name so I don't really have any nicknames apart from moll
zodiac sign: sagittarius w/ moon & rising both in libra ♐♎
height: 5′3″ just call me BLUE SARGENT because I am SMALL
hogwarts house: in my heart of hearts I'm a hufflepuff, but I was so desperate to be a gryffindor when I read the books and now I'm too deep in gryffindor merch from birthdays and christmases to back out.
last thing i googled: 'silence of the girls cover artist’ - I recognised sarah young’s art on the cover of the book that I just bought so I was looking it up (you should check out her work - although make sure you type 'sarah young illustration'  bc I just now found out that she in fact shares her name with a porn star lmao😬)
favourite musicians: oh god, so many. jacob collier (aka the most infuriatingly talented musician alive, he's only like 24, he’s won 2 grammies, he got recognition from quincy jones and now they're friends ?? and he’s currently working on a 4 part album of about 40 songs; volume 1 was released around christmas and he’s planning to release the last one by the end of this year... anyway he’s unbelievable and I love him), julia jacklin, glass animals, billie marten, hozier, tom misch, joy crookes, ELIZA, vulfpeck, nick mulvey, hope tala, jade bird, rusty clanton (fun fact, I actually bumped into him after his support set for jade bird and he was SO lovely). also dodie has been a fave of mine since I was like 14 and she probably always will be tbh. girl is just the sun ��️
song stuck in your head: moontime by hope tala (not complaining tho bc that song is a Gay Bop)
following: 413 (I had to go through recently and unfollow all the old jily/marauders blogs that haven't been active for years rip there are so many)
followers: 489 and ily ALL ♥️
do you get asks: sometimes! I get a few cute lil anons here and there
amount of sleep: I have insomniaaa, like my boy gansey so I only get like 4-6 hours a night. I just always get a sudden boost of chaotic creative energy in the evenings and my brain is like !!! make something !! write something !! draw something !! anything!! do it all !! maybe I should start building a miniature version of my town too lol 
lucky number: hmm my birthday is 13th dec (same day as ts) so I like to think that the number makes an exception from being unlucky for people who are born on the 13th
what you’re wearing: leggings, my fav shorts (they’re so cool, they're like a kind of mossy green tie-dye with some funky black patterns stamped onto them. 10/10 makes me feel like a forest elf) and a yellow crop top vest thing. also a couple of rings and some necklaces that I wear basically every day. also socks that have confetti patterns on them. party socks
dream job: anything creative!! writing, art, music, whatever tbh. in an ideal life I would love to be a musician because the idea of going on a tour with other musician friends just sounds like such a dream to me and I love making music stuff (I actually posted a cover on here if you wanna listen) ALSO lowkey want to open a cafe w/ my sister one day; have events in the evenings, homemade cakes, get our musical friends to do gigs? mayhaps a resident cat??? yes pls
dream trip: I applied for an exchange with my uni to study in norway next year, which would be amazing (and terrifying) if I got accepted !!
instrument: I played the violin (very very badly) for about 2 years, and the oboe (for about a year until my teacher moved away - turns out there aren't a whole lot of oboe teachers out there) and I had piano lessons when I was a kid for about 7 years, but i can't remember how to properly read the music now:( I can still play piano but I mostly just figure out how to play songs by listening to them a lot. I prefer playing guitar and ukulele though, they're the ones that I picked up myself so I feel a lot more committed to them 
languages: english is my only fluent language, bc our education system doesn’t bother to teach languages as well as other countries do (am I bitter about it? absolutely), but I can just about get by in french and spanish, and I've been slowly teaching myself norwegian on duolingo for about 5 months now (honestly bless that app)
favourite songs: again, so many. my current faves: mice by billie marten (her new ep is so crushingly gorgeous), guiltless by dodie (the music video?? the music video????), here comes the sun by jacob collier & dodie (god this cover is endlessly, endlessly beautiful?? the drum and guitar strums at 0.58 just GET👏ME👏GOING👏), she is the sum by poppy ajudha, in your hands by nick mulvey (has some BIG gangsey in trk vibes), moon river by jacob collier (this literally came out the other day and ohhohooo boy !! the harmonies that kick in at 5.19 give me mad goosebumps)
random fact: when I was 16 I had appendicitis and nearly died bc I thought the pains were just rlly bad cramps lmao (is this ?? #toomuch? 😬✨??) ANYWAY now i don't have an appendix BUT I do have three funky lil scars and a rlly big appreciation for the nhs (the uk is shit at most things but free healthcare is truly a godsend)
aesthetic: witchy, kinda feral lol, artsy, anything nature related, anything autumnal?? I love that dark academia, secret history kind of aesthetic but I can’t really pull it off bc my style is a bit too hectic - basically just think blue sargent but softer and probs more gay lmao 🤠👌
I'm tagging @lesbianparrish @adamparrishes & @motorcyclebabeparrish as well lol, also @parrishynch @lvslie @flourishandblotted @cloudpillows @justlarajean @heart-ablaze @tinylilemrys @acquaclara @cbliviate @iuliasabina @heyilan @ofstagsanddoes @nellyinneverland @wtf-jily (a lot of my mutuals aren’t active anymore so it’s hard to see if I've forgotten anyone, but if I have forgotten you I'm sorry !! ily!! you are also tagged 💕✨)
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jazzyourfriend-a · 7 years ago
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Waid
...Waid walks inside, yawning and not even trying to cover his mouth.
“Good morning - Ah. Not so good, then”, Hara says from her desk, grinning. She motions at the coffee machine in the corner, and Waid stumbles there without a word. “Haven’t seen you in days. And you look like you tried to bust the Barrier open with your head. And failed. Repeatedly.”
“Har har har”, Waid hoots back weakly. The machine hums behind him, brewing some brown deliciousness. “Maya got sick. A bug or something. Couldn’t leave her bed, you know how it is.” He rubs his forehead, ruffling the short feathers there. “Didn’t sleep much, either. So. A long week.”
“I bet.” Hara smiles at him sympathetically before turning back to the papers. “The lil’ things there got all sulky while you weren’t here. I had to promise them three times that you are not dead and haven’t left for good.”
“They made you look after them?”
“M-hm. Nah, they were fine. It was easy. Get in, get them some food and homework, get out, rinse, repeat.” She shrugs. “I see why you like your job that much, ha ha. Well. Anyway, are you good there?”
Waid downs a cup in one long gulp. “Yeah. Good as new!”
“You wish”, Hara says. “You’ve got brown all over your beak and your eyebags are about as big as sleeping bags.”
“Good as a very well-kept second-hand, then.”
“That’ll do.”
***
“Well, look whatcha got here!” Waid calls out cheerfully when the doors slide open before him.
He is immediately studied by two pairs of eyes, wide and attentive. The subjects are there, in the middle of the room, surrounded by papers and pens. S is lying on his stomach, P is sitting cross-legged. Their faces are calm, as always.
They really are easy to look after.
“OH. HELLO, WAID.” P waves at him and tilts his head to a side. “HAVE YOU BROUGHT BOOKS?”
Oh yes, he did. Waid sighs, drops his useless smile and puts his bag down. He brought all sorts of books: astronomy, physics, history, school books on every subject imaginable, volumes and volumes of works that are too vague and obfuscating for most children - but the subjects are not children, despite their size. They reach out immediately, grabbing the books like they are Gyftmas presents.
Waid sighs again and thinks that, if he was given something they read on a daily basis when he was in his college years, he would probably give up ten pages in. They don’t. Their minds soak up the knowledge as sponges, and they always want more. They have their preferances, of course. But in the end it does not matter much to them what they get if it is something new.
“OH. THIS ONE IS ILLUSTRATED.” P traces a constellation with his finger on a book page. Then he looks up at Waid. “I DID WELL ON A TEST TODAY.”
“I’m not surprised!” Waid says, attempting a smile again. “You are a smart little thing, after all.”
P stares at him for a couple of moments more, then returns his attention to the book. S doesn’t even acknowledge Waid much.
The bird monster looks away, flinching. The subjects... they look small. Like children. Yet they are not. He must stay level-headed, he reminds himself, he cannot grow too attached - because in the end, they are not really monsters, even. Just... two little AIs. Always calm and collected, always reading or writing something, always polite and quiet and causing as little trouble as possible. Kids are never like that. Waid brought them crayons one day, and they wrote equations with them - pages of colorful numbers and letters. They did not even attempt to draw.
They probably don’t even feel much. It is... strangely comforting.
“WHAT’S THAT?”
Waid jerks, looking up, and meets P’s eyes. He is pointing to something at the bottom of Waid’s bag. He looks inside. Oh. It is one of Maya’s stuffed animals: a pink winged hippo with a dopey smile and two small black eyes. He probably put it there while packing up in the morning on autopilot.
“Oh. Well. Um”, Waid says. S watches him as well, now, raising his eyebrows at the pink hippo. “I brought it here by mistake. I did not really mean to.”
“but still, what is that?” S asks, and Waid is momentarily puzzled. S rarely talks to him at all - does not even look at him much.
“Well... it’s a toy.”
“WHAT DOES IT DO?” P asks, pulling the hippo’s leg.
Waid shrugs. “Be a toy?” He gets two questioning stares and relents. “I mean... it does not do much. You cannot take it apart or do something useful with it. It just... is.”
“OH.” P frowns, looking the hippo over. Waid wonders why he didn’t lose interest yet. The hippo is not a clock for him to reassemble, not a book to keep his mind busy. It is a child’s toy. What business does he have with a child’s toy? “WHAT IS IT FOR, THEN?”
“Playing”, Waid says. He taps on the floor nervously. How do you explain something like that? “You can... imagine things about it. Imagine it’s alive. Imahgine what sorts of encounters it gets into...” P stares blankly. Waid shakes his head. “Nevermind. Give it back here. I did not expect you to understand, anyway.”
He reaches out for the toy, but P suddenly leans back, pressing the hippo to his chest. His eyes are confused. He considers the toy for a moment or two.
“...PLAYING...” He rearranges the hippo so he is holding it carefully, like a baby, and then pets it on its head hesitantly. "HE IS SOFT. DOES HE HAVE A NAME?”
Waid does not understand for a second that P is talking about the toy, and he is talking about it as a person. “...Um. You can... name it whatever you like?”
“HIM”, P corrects. He pets the hippo again, and his face becomes... softer. “I WANT TO NAME HIM... PINKSTER. MAY I?”
“What?.. Oh. Yes. I mean, yes, you may...”
“HELLO, PINKSTER”, P says to the toy, and his voice is softer too - quieter. And he suddenly looks very much like a real kid to Waid. “IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU.” He pauses. “HE DOESN’T ANSWER.”
“Well - it is a toy, it is not -”
“HE”, P presses. “AND HE JUST DOES NOT LIKE TO TALK MUCH. BUT IT IS FINE. HE HAS OTHER REDEEMING QUALITIES. DO YOU, PINKSTER?”
S snickers, and Waid turns to him in numb disbelief. The subject’s permanent grin is stretched just a bit, his eyes a little rounder. “i bet he does. hi, pinkie.”
“STOP THIS”, P hisses, cuddling the toy closer to him. “HIS NAME IS PINKSTER AND YOU KNOW THAT. DON’T TALK DOWN TO HIM, HE DOES NOT LIKE THAT! HE IS SAD NOW BECAUSE YOU DID NOT TREAT HIM RESPECTFULLY!”
“whoops. sorry”, S says, and he actually looks a little... guilty? Waid does not even attempt to do anything at this point. The boy stands up, abandoning his books, and moves closer to P to gently ruffle the hippo’s pink fur. “sorry, pinkster. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“THAT’S BETTER. HE FORGIVES YOU!” The hippo, steered by P’s fingers, ‘hugs’ S with its front paws. “SEE? HE IS OKAY NOW.”
“i’m glad. he is a good... well. whatever he is”, S says, sitting back. He looks genuinely interested. “what can he do?”
“LOTS”, P says. “HE IS VERY SMART AND STRONG, AND HE GETS PERFECT SCORES ON ALL TESTS, AND... AND HE EVEN GOT TO SEE THE OUTSIDE ONCE BECAUSE HE BEHAVED REALLY WELL.”
“really?” Waid chokes. S sounds mesmerized. “tell me more!”
And P - P hugs the pink toy hippo to his chest, beaming. He is not supposed to be like this, Waid tells himself. He is not supposed to be interested in toys and crayons...
“OKAY! SO, BECAUSE HE IS SO CLEVER, HE IS EVEN MORE CLEVER THAN DOCTOR”, P says. “AND DOCTOR IS VERY ENVIOUS OF HIM.”
“yeah!” S jumps up and suddenly hunches over, face set in an exagerrated frown. “huff puff, i am doctor gaster, i don’t have time for this nonsense, where is my coffee, and pinkster, i never thought you’d be such a sissy.”
He is... playing pretend, Waid realises. Cold sweat is drenching his feathers. It isn’t hot in there. Not at all.
“YEAH! BUT PINKSTER WAS ALL LIKE, NO! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO CALL ME NAMES ANYMORE! BECAUSE I AM MUCH MORE CLEVER AND STRONG THAN YOU!” P waves the hippo’s paw at S, and the smaller boy gasps dramatically. “IN FACT! I WAS SO WELL-BEHAVED AND DID ALL MY HOMEWORK AND WAS SUCH A GOOD BOY THAT THEY DECIDED TO LET ME OUT! AND YOU ARE GOING INTO THE TIMEOUT ROOM FOREVER BECAUSE YOU WERE SO MEAN TO ME!”
“no-o-o, not the timeout room!” S cries out, falling to his knees. He copies Gaster’s gestures and poses expertly, like he has done that a hundred times already. “aaaaaaaah...”
“AND HE WENT TO THE TIMEOUT ROOM, AND PINKSTER GOT OUT AND LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.” P stares at the toy in his hands. “...BUT THEN HE RETURNED BECAUSE HE DECIDED TO KEEP US COMPANY. RIGHT, WAID?”
Waid suddenly understands that the boys are staring at him now.
“W...what?” he manages to quack.
“...CAN WE KEEP HIM?” P asks, and his voice is... careful. Collected once again. “I PROMISE WE WILL TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIM. AND WE WILL BEHAVE EVEN BETTER. YOU CAN TAKE SOME BOOKS AWAY IN EXCHANGE, IF YOU WANT TO.”
Waid’s voice is somewhere else. It does not sound like him. Robotic. Unemotional. Cold and calm, when he feels anything but.
“No. It’s... mine.” He grabs the toy and the empty bag and rushes to his feet, dizzy. “I’ve... I have to go. I am busy. I have no time.”
The children - ...no, the subjects, the subjects - reach after him, eyes glued to the little lump of pink fabric in his hands, and they look as if he is taking away their greatest treasure. Maybe he is.
Waid stomps out of their cell and doesn’t look back even as a quiet “...GOODBYE, WAID. GOODBYE, PINKSTER” hits him in the back.
***
“Oh, you have Softy”, Maya says in a sleepy voice. She cuddles to the pink hippo, washed three times with bleacher so his fur is now slightly bleaker. “I missed him. Did you have fun with him?”
Waid nods to her, leaves the room, waves his worried husband off and heads outside.
He drinks himself senseless that night.
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loveiscosmicsin · 8 years ago
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Hey if it's alright Ignoct and the letter V. Have a nice day and happy belated New Years.
Send me character(s) and a letter and I’ll write you a minific!
For @deepwolfwolf: IgNoct, letter V. An Abandoned or empty place. Happy Belated New Year’s to you, too! I hope you enjoy my writing and thank you for your patience! Anything you request isn’t a bother to me at all. Also, please, anyone, give me song recommendations for IgNoct. I’ve been making a playlist on YouTube. I really like “Dernière Danse” (Last Dance) by Indila for this couple.http://lyricstranslate.com/en/dernière-danse-last-dance.html
Art that inspired me, please don’t click on them until after you finish reading!: https://mobile.twitter.com/FFikaika_/status/816753648260681729
@ruebird’s http://ruebird.tumblr.com/post/157210311094/stars-are-their-thing
@ravitae’s http://ravitae.tumblr.com/post/157747269898/ignoct-may-i-ask-for-one-last-dance
@letshareapapou then drew this after reading the fic https://twitter.com/Letshareapapou/status/855947679796404224
This is also posted on my Ao3 as Look How The Stars Shine For Us if you prefer reading fics off there.
-
Your shoulder blades
Your eyes ablaze
The way you throw your head back
When you’re losing faith
But finding hope
It lights your face
That helps me cope
Through all of this without a kiss
And I get through all of this without a kiss
From the atlas
Take me far
Leave me reckless
Off the map
Turn the paper
Don’t bring me back- “Atlas” by Shannon Saunders
-
V. An abandoned or empty place
-
“Sure ya wanna head out all on your lonesome?” Cidney asked as she pulled the service truck to a stop.
“Yes. It’s nearly time.” Ignis answered before turning to face the head mechanic. “Will you be all right waiting?”
“Now don’t ya worry about lil’ ol’ me.” The plucky blonde’s cheerfulness was nearly palpable and a paper bag crinkled as she stroked it. “If you don’t need me, I’m finally gonna chow down on these purdy sweets an’ listen to some tunes ‘til you get back.”
“I see,” the strategist smiled, pleased that she had been anticipating his renowned memory lane pastries far more than she alluded. He knew now that bribery was unnecessary. “You have my thanks.”
“Ain’t no trouble. It’s nice to be away from the garage for a spell.” The sound of rubbing leather was soft as the woman adjusted her seat. “Sure is gorgeous out here.” Cidney whistled sharply. “Not a single cloud in the sky and the wind won’t be picking up. Perfect weather for stargazing.”
Ignis had his hand on the door handle, but made no move to turn it. “Indeed.” He agreed, distant. He had requested for the mechanic’s assistance, there was no turning back now or he would surely regret it.
Cidney’s hand was on his shoulder, giving it a firm, but playful shove. “Well, best get movin’. Give my regards to His Majesty.”
At the mechanic’s encouragement and behest, Ignis’ feet landed flatly on solid earth and the door shut behind him. The strategist had his doubts but entrusting Cidney, an unlikely confidant, was a wise choice. She understood how important his date was and needed little persuasion to take him there.
Sediment crunched under his shoes and loose rocks evaded him as he walked towards his destination, a cliff overhanging Duscae. It was a brief journey that required moderate exertion on Ignis’ part but worth it when he was blessed with the sight of a young man seated on a blanket. The older man intended on surprising him, but a snap of a twig betrayed him.
“You finally showed,” the raven-haired man said over his shoulder, his eyes seemed to encapsulate Ignis on the spot. “Thought I’ve been stood up.”
Ignis pursed his lips. “And since have I ever done that, Noct?”
“Got me there.” Noctis chuckled softly before noticing something was off. “What’s that look for? Forgot something?”
“I, ah, no,” Ignis patted his pockets, an obvious lie. “It’s nothing.” He couldn’t believe he had forgotten it.
“Okay,” Noctis snorted, darting glances from the strategist’s face and his pants as the brunet sat down. “Have it your way.”
Ignis sighed, holding up a paper bag and thermos he had been carrying. “I believe these would keep your interest more effectively.”
Noctis studied his face for a moment longer before claiming the bag. “Knew I smelled something tasty.” He grinned, tossing the sweet in the air and catching it. “Haven’t had these in a while. They’re really for me?”
Noctis moaned into the first bite, his dark eyebrows raised as he savored the pastry. He dove back into the confection with a vengeance and quickly devoured it. Sugar and Ulwaat jam coated the bow and corners of his lips and he wiped at them with a sleeve.
Ignis sighed as he took Noctis by the wrist and folded back a cuff. “Do mind your manners, Noct. I brought napkins for a reason.” Something metallic glittered in the moonlight. “You’re wearing it…”
“This? Saw you fiddling with it and thought it’s meant for me. You didn’t have to get me anything, Iggy.”
“I had to get you something. It’s a charming accessory that would meet your refined tastes at the very least.” Etro knew Ignis tried in vain countless times in persuading Noctis to wear a watch.
“I think we both know that I’ve worn too many of those to last a life time.” Noctis replied with a snort. “One family ring’s enough. But… I’ll keep this bracelet. Kinda forgot it was on me anyway.”
Ignis was unwilling to not let this go until Noctis admitted he liked it. “And because it suits your fancy?”
Noctis threw his arms behind his head, a light blush dusted his cheeks. “Yeah, that too.” He flipped the lid on the thermos open and took a sip. His eyes lit up before downing a gulp, exhaling sharply. “Whoa, it’s Ebony and it’s exactly how I take it.”
“If you can call it that. If you ask a connoisseur, they would say your taste buds are forever ruined to appreciate a perfectly good cuppa.”
“Well, you’re the one who prepared it, Iggy.” Noctis pointedly jabbed a pastry in the strategist’s direction. “Broke your own rules there.”
A float of sweet cream accompanied by several dollops of sugar was how Noctis took his coffee. Far too sweet for human consumption. He hated the way coffee tasted, but drank it because of the sophistication appeal, proclaiming it was a step up from the Purple Phoenix and trendy energy drinks. Diluting the bold flavor of Ebony coffee went against Ignis’ incorrigible creed. Having his coffee black was the only acceptable way in Ignis’ world. But despite all that, Ignis would vehemently prepare a cup that Noctis would approve of and drink it whenever he thought of him. It would’ve been a waste to dump it down the drain otherwise.
After Ignis nibbled on his first pastry and Noctis wolfed down on second, the younger man rose to his feet and dusted crumbs off his clothes before offering a hand. “Can I have this dance?”
“Without music? This is rather daring of you.”
“We’ll improvise.” The king paused before cursing, “Dammit. Forgot my phone. We’ll just go without it. Are you going to take my hand or not?”
Ignis took the hand and let the younger man guide him away from the blanket.
“I don’t trust myself after last time,” Noctis rested his palms on Ignis’ waiting hands. “You lead.”
When he was the Crown Prince, Noctis was required to excel at all forms of dance and despite having mastered agility in combat, he was utterly helpless in the ballroom. Ignis must’ve made a poor teacher because Noctis never quite improved, but he was relaxed and there were least cases of foot injuries under his guidance. It had been years since they had last danced together.
Ignis secured Noctis’ right hand and placed his other hand on his upper back. “Don’t look at your feet. Focus on counting your steps and you’ll do fine.”
Noctis gave him a sheepish grin, his stance spoke volumes of his uneasiness. “As if I can keep my eyes off you, Ignis.” He put a hand on the strategist’s shoulder.
Their starlit waltz was a simple one though in the beginning, they were like stiff figurines going through steps that they had done numerous times. Ignis was educated in both lead and follow designations and could alternate on cue. He could read immediately on Noctis’ face that he regretted suggesting this activity. Worrying on his next step was throwing him off rhythm, he wasn’t trusting his partner. Ignis decided to switch it up, no longer their postures were restrained, they were in a more loose position.
Noctis’ eyes widened at this. They were deviating from the strict protocol, but Ignis wasn’t done there. Side to side, backwards and forwards, they maintained a synchronized rhythm that suited the both of them. The strategist lifted a hand, signaling the king to turn, circling a halo around his head. Noctis laughed as he turned, returning to Ignis afterwards.
As the two danced, Ignis felt all the years they had together weigh heavily upon his shoulders. The strength of their unspoken bond became more profound in their movement. Their gazes had a million words to illustrate just how they revered each other in the highest regard.
Ignis brought Noctis close after a tighter and swifter turn. He smiled as he leaned in close. “I’ve underestimated you. Your footwork has—”
“Improved?” Noctis asked, hopeful.
“Worsened.” Ignis informed with a smirk. “Though you rightfully earned a gold star for effort.”
“Yeesh.” The king groaned, throwing a betrayed look. “And here I thought that I could impress you for once.”
So that’s why Noctis took the initiative. It must’ve been difficult for him to ask.
“Oh, but you have in so many ways. Be it in a room full of people or simply the two of us, I’d always pick you in a heartbeat.” Ignis swayed his hips and concluded the dance. “You’re my partner of choice.”
“Well, likewise,” Noctis bowed to demonstrate his appreciation. “You make me look good.”
“And just that?” Ignis asked, studying the exhilaration and delight in his king’s features. They both knew that it wasn’t the only reason.
Noctis smirked, but offered no reply as he swept his bangs back. “What I wouldn’t give for another moment with you.”
“I’m curious. What would you give?”
“I…” Noctis began before a red light streaked across the sky. “It’s starting.”
It was a meteor shower, an vast array of light shot out from all directions. For once, they were in perfect clarity because the two men were far away from the city lights and the moon couldn’t drown them out.
“Whoa, that’s gonna be a night to remember.” Noctis said lying on his back, he was in awe of the universe.
Ignis made an amused sound. “You say that every year.”
“Anticipation makes the wait feel longer.” Noctis argued as he marveled at heavens above. “Besides, can’t you agree with me for once?”
But Ignis was directing his attention to the man at his side. “The night sky pales in comparison to your radiance, my king.”
Sitting up, Noctis’ gaze met Ignis’, a slight quirk in his eyebrow. “Are we still looking at the same ‘night sky’ here, Specs?” He articulated with a smirk and a nudged the brunet’s arm with his shoulder.
Warmth from Noctis’ body permeated to Ignis and the brunet drummed his fingers anxiously on whether to curl them around Noctis’ stationed hand or keep them to himself.
Noctis rested his cheek on Ignis’ shoulder. “Promise that we can do this again soon?”
“Of course,” Ignis choked out, his heart thundered against his rib cage. “but I thought routine would bore you a tad.”
“Routine’s not that bad.” The king replied as he glanced at Ignis. “Gladio wakes me at the crack of dawn for training and would surprise me with fishing right after that. When Prompto says we’re going on an adventure, he really means the rooftop of our old high school for movie night. And us…” He pointed out to stars, drawing lines with his finger, connecting the dots. “Stars are our thing. Look, they’re shining for us right now.”
Noctis’ grin was the last thing Ignis saw.
Darkness crept in the advisor’s vision, ending a pleasant, but short-lived reprieve. The brunet inhaled deeply as he removed his visor. He tilted his head toward the heavens, determined to force his ruined eyes to see what needed to be seen.
Noctis is Ignis’ other half that he had longed for.
And now Ignis was alone because where Noctis had gone was where the living couldn’t follow.
“That’s right,” Ignis voiced, moving constellations in his mind just so they formed a familiar visage. “If nothing else, you and I… We still have the stars.”
There was sorrow in Ignis’ heart that he only saw stars in his dreams. But when the inevitable dawn arrived, his memories became fleeting as the wisps of smoke from a extinguished camp fire. Ignis had seen the wonders of the universe, but the warmth of Noctis’ gaze was a spectacular wonder found no where else.
Conversations had played repeatedly in his head: one prior to leaving the Crown City for the first time, the pilgrimage to the Disc of Cauthess, the ultimatum on blind loyalties, and the final night before Eos was to be liberated from its plague. For ten years, light was consumed by the Starscourge and ashes rained, smothering crops and contaminating bodies of water. Stars were fondly recanted as phenomena of legend, children born during that time never would’ve known their glory. Humanity had to create their own flickering lanterns in the darkness to survive.
The four warriors of the tragedy, in their youthful naïvety, never knew that it took just one man to herald the Light.
All that time, Ignis thought his sworn duty was to guide a young king to his fullest potential. It should’ve been obvious when King Regis never pressed the issue of leadership and he chose to simply place Noctis in his chamberlain’s care. Ignis was a fool. Noctis never became the ruler he was meant to be and Ignis never quite expressed the truth within his heart. Duty had outweighed emotion and irrationality, above everything. If only they had more time together.
Ignis loved Noctis.
In his heart, Ignis was bound to meet Noctis many times just as they would have to part ways afterwards. Time was endless and infinite. It had to be.
Perhaps in another universe things could’ve gone differently. Somewhere, Ignis was together with Noctis again. In that imagined world, there was a Ignis Scientia and a Noctis Lucis Caelum who were able to marvel at the same sky, find themselves in the same constellation, and share visceral sentiments of peace and melancholy that was beyond comprehension. Their world. They would discuss their reality of lost possibilities and endless adventures, maybe go as far to planning trips to space one day. The nightly conversations, entertaining and far-fetched as they were, remained dreams.
Noctis wasn’t a dream. He existed. He lived. Ignis could see him and if he reached out to touch him, it would be the closest he would ever get. Noctis was Ignis’ home. Ignis would never let Noctis go unforgotten, true love never diminishes in remembrance. There had to be some way to commemorate him.
Remembering wasn’t difficult when Noctis had his own constellation in the sky. It was named after him, its appearance more evident after a meteor shower.
Galaxies were ever-changing, steadily drifting in course but the patterns remained the same should the strategist pinpoint the stars’ coordinates. Wherever he was, Ignis hoped that Noctis could look down and see the world he saved.
Maybe in a not-so-distant future and in another life, they could celebrate such a victory.
“Thank you, Noct, for bringing the stars back and… Happy Birthday. Shall we witness our first sunrise when the time comes?”
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abyss-mal-blog1 · 6 years ago
Text
today
today was fun. the week after spring break!! i had such a good break that this week feels a little heavy. feels a little tight. 
this morning i woke up super early because bronwen’s leaving nyc for minneapolis and we struggled to meet for breakfast. we woke up at a little over 7 and she spent 15 minutes looking for indian cuisine because she was reals craving some roti. i understand completely. sometimes i still think about the 手抓饼 (shou zhua bing) in beijing, that’s seriously one of my favorite foods in china. 
anyway we established that indian restaurants do not open that early - most open at noon (and there were like about 3 places within a 3 minute radius that could have satisfied bron’s craving - i love bleecker street!) so we ended up going to a chinese bakery! it’s nice because sometimes i think about having those buns for breakfast just like what we do at home, but you know classes and shit, who got the time to walk an extra 0.5 miles for those delicious bolo bao. 
we had char siew baos and pastries and ovaltine. i don’t usually have ovaltine i guess i grew up with milo but anything remotely close to milo is my best friend here. anyways, i love talking to bron (lol @ our serious ass morning conversation.) (nah it wasn’t srs) and it just feels so easy. it’s really nice to catch up with her and it’s really cool to see someone working so hard for music and theater and she says she is not good enough for nyc but i don’t think so i could seriously see her landing a few shows here. bron’s the person i think i have been to the most number of plays and shows here because she’s always asking me and one day i am certain i will be the one seeing her play or her directing you know. we also talked about a summer road trip and PLEASE. god, make that happen. 
i was still a little peckish after so i went to thompkins square bagels - there were too many choices i couldn’t decide plus i didn’t wanna eat a thicc bagel so i left to finish up my haiku presentation for class at think coffee. then, i had my cs lecture which i couldn’t really concentrate. i don’t know, i could write a separate post about joanna, a cs professor everyone else seems to love but i can’t seem to find that spark. we had to fill up course evals today and i wrote a paragraph while other people had ‘fav class’ and ‘fav professor at nyu’. i am not sure who to trust now. 
the lecture on registers and computer systems stuff and also talking about bagels made me hungry so i got some of those from bagel bob’s. i tried tofu scallion on a flat everything and i gotta say - what’s those tofu stuff? it just tastes like a softer version of cream cheese. 
got to japanese class. it’s chill but i feel like i definitely need to catch up because i am falling behind. beatrix also says that my pronunciation needs A LOT of work. i sound like a douche rn. we also had to read our haikus today and to be honest i am proud of my haikus. although 2/3 of those i had b to help me. well, i am proud of my presentation anyways, i did it on illustrator with fonts and little hiragana beside my kanji. 
(this blog post is turning out to be longer than expected, but i am enjoying myself.) after class, i went to news bar because that’s where my legs tend to take me. out of the soups lentil spinach seemed like the choice of the day for me but then i had the other half of my bagel and the cafe was too noisy to do work so i left for bobst. also, i checked my midterm score at newsbar and had no mood for everything else.
is this even interesting anymore? went to bobst, i like one of those high chairs on the 4th and 6th floor but i feel that because there are no windows it can get claustrophobic about 2-3 hours. also, ceilings are kinda low. it’s good if you are really concentrating because the background noise volume is kinda ideal for me but i guess i was feeling exhausted. left for home, got coffee with soy milk and tried rugelach (lil pastry) (wow gurl u ate a lot) for tea. treated myself. coulda treated myself to a nap. anyway i need some battle fuel. submitted regrade requests for my midterm which took me a while, and then maintenance guy came to fix some stuff in the bathroom - and spilled a whole lot of dirt on this apartment-management that i am leasing from. not as great as i thought they were, i knew it’s suspicious when they are so oddly kind. will elaborate in the future 
got to crossfit (a p good jog run from home) and spent 2 hours at the gym. a little much to be honest. i got to foam-roller my calves more. maybe it helps it from being too big. today i also pushed myself a lot i am feeling it! after not working out for a week. may also be because of my cycle. i was just more motivated today. i need to work out my arms more. gots sweetgreen after with nat and arugula took a long time to trvel down my oesophagus so i was kinda choked up. finished my salad though because leftovers aren’t really my kind of thing. now i’m here. oh i just remembered my clothes have been in the washer a while. time to take them out and start on my japanese homework, prepare a show and tell for tomorrow’s class, revise machine-level encoding for today’s lecture, write a museum write-up for design class, finish up design assignment.......print....readings for perf&tech...................
thinking about asking z (an alumni) because he has a connection to someone in vsco - is it too weird? vsco has been a dream no vsco is the dream for me i have been afraid to pursue it but now i am HERE
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