#they communicate like bees (through dance) /j

[ohshy]

Soda Popinski and Disco Kid would be bffs i think

[tbenvs3000w24]

Dancing Bees!

Evolution has always interested me and so have bees. So today I want to tell all of you about the bee dance and how it evolved. I read about this a couple years ago and when I did it completely changed my perspective on bees. When I used to  think of bees, I thought of simple insects that are programmed to be driven to any flower they see. Until I found out they dance to communicate which flowers to go to. 

An article by Doenhaus and Chittka (2004)  titled “ Why do Bees Dance?” showed me that bees actually have a way to communicate information about food sources with each other through dance. The dance in question is a “waggle dance”  done by moving their comb in a figure 8 motion (Figure 1A)   (Doenhaus & Chittka, 2004) . This dance is supposed to inform other members of the hive in which direction and how far they can find a good source of pollen. 

The way bees communicate direction and distance is quite interesting. The dancer repeatedly circles in a figure-eight pattern centered around a waggle run in which the bee waggles its abdomen as it moves forward (Dong et al., 2023). The direction of the waggle shows the direction of the food source, the duration of the dance shows the distance and the amount of waggles depicts the quality of the food ( more waggles means higher sugar concentration) (Dong et al., 2023).

 The experiment by Doenhaus and Chittka examined the evolution of the “waggle dance”. The overall conclusion of the article“Why do Bees Dance”stated that bees in environments with plants that flowered for a short time had more need for the dance than bees in areas where there were more options for pollen throughout the year. This showed that the dancing likely evolved in conditions of scarcity where this information could determine the overall success of the hive that season.(Doenhaus & Chittka, 2004)

 The study by Dong et al. intended to study how important it is for bees to learn the waggle dance from older bees. It did this by studying the accuracy of the messages sent through dance by bees that had no older bees to learn from and then from bees that did. It concluded that bees develop and refine their waggle dance by watching other older bees dancing (Figure 1B) . The study showed that social signaling when younger bees encoded and learned to deliver a specific message( distance, quality, direction ) in a certain way as a young bee, would continue to do it like that as it got older. So the first set of bees that did not have older bees to teach them the dance delivered messages that were more incorrect their entire life, but bees who had observed other bees as a young foraging bee were able to improve the accuracy of the messages in their dance(Dong et. al., 2023).

The evolution of the dance language and the ability for bees to develop and improve on their ability to convey information about distance, direction and quality shows how intelligent they are. Now you know how smart bees are!

Figure 1: A. shows the dance of the bee, 1 round of the dance starts at 1, the waggle is 2 and then 3 the dance is repeated. In the image below, w is doing the dance while the fs are watching to learn where to go. B. showing how the directional accuracy of bees in E1, which are young bees with no older bees around them, gave less accurate information about a food source than C1, young bees with older bees around them. (Dong et al., 2023)

Dong, S., Lin, T., Nieh, J. C., & Tan, K. (2023). Social signal learning of the waggle dance in honey bees. Science, 379(6636), 1015-1018. Dornhaus, A., Chittka, L. Why do honey bees dance?. Behav Ecol Sociobiol 55, 395–401 (2004). https://doi.org/10.1007/s00265-003-0726-9

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Giant DUCK

Thanggg

"I love pleasuring people" OKAY SIR

Horny. Mood

VIRAL IN THE IMPACT FONT

Staring-at-anime-tiddies innit. Hands against the glass like a squished bug. Me with Seàn boobs

capital.... I was expecting one of the letters to be lowercase but all of it was capital

NAH THE WAY HE TURNED IT ARROUND ON HIM

Thinking about boobies YES AMEN BROTHER!!!! Also very effective way to turn it back into a comedic moment

NOT THE CORONAVIRUS SYMPTOMS

I love the claim that it's usually him who made iconic quotes

TITS AND BOOBS BOOK.....

Minecraft all day everyday

NOT THE TECHNOBLADE JOKE

anime respect ✨🌈

THE WAY THAT PERSON JOINED IN WITH THE HAND SHAKING LIKE "NO"

Anime titties are a running theme todaye

YUH YUH DANCE GET IT WHITE BOY YUH YUH GET IT. YUHHHH TIPTOE ASS WALK WITH THE KICKS

"let's touch tips" hehehe

OH FUCK MOOD source and me are apparently both so terminally curious that we wander into random areas and open random doors. Yea. Yea real.

:0 OPEN MOTUFTH JUMPSCARE FNAF MOMENT

NOOOOOOOOO NOT THE USA MILITARY FUCK THAT

Professorrespect.com I wonder if that's a real webbedsite

Love how he could only compliment the guy with an angry birds impression if it was a fan ...ONLY fans get compliments. YOU MUST BE AN INNITER TO RECIEVE POSITIVITY FROM MR INNIT

professor respect is now a knight

FURRY TIME YIPPEE !!!!! 🌈🏳️‍🌈✨💖

"look inside your self" tries to look at his own ass

Better thoughts = higher quality

OMG tommyinnit be touching

MCC MOMENT YEAAHSHSHSHSHSYZHHSHEHDVEHHUshshabsbshjasndbbsbsjajamsnsbsjans

"oh OH"

LMAOOOO

OH FUCK SHIT TUBBO TUBBO TUBBO TUBBO TUBBO TUBBO TUBBO BEE BOY BEE BOY

someone needs to love Tubbo.

NOOOOOOO TUBBO NAURRRRRRR "straight energy" days the gay guy and his bicurious bestie

LMAO THE HARD CUT AFTER SHE SAYS I'M A LESBIAN

purpled needs to be skinny because Tommy "likes em skinny" okay

HE DID NOT JUST BLAME THE DOWNFALL OF THE DSMP COMMUNITY ON VACCINES I'M LOSING ITTTT LMAOOOO that really do be how antivaxxers sound...picking any negative thing and going "it was. Vaccine"

Cliven Gorgorten.....

CRIME DOGGGGG it kinda make me think of Seán

IS THAT A CATS COSPLAY??????? YIPPEE

"sweatpea"

HE'S STANDING ON HIM YOO WHAT

Penisinnit

Pokemoninnit THE SUDDEN LOOK INTO THE DISTANCE

professor respect doesn't like organs oh nevermind he DOES like organs oh nevermind he doesn't

🏳️‍🌈🩷💖✨ There's way ✨💖🩷🏳️‍🌈

The genuine advice at the job one..... Aww.

AND THEN THE DYED HAIR COMMENT

Tummyinnit

Hire a homelessman to do work for you 2024

NOOOOOO NOT THE NICE HOUSE LAMOOOOOOO

Love the handshakes and stuff POG sillay

NO TWITTER CANCELLED ON TWITTER LMAOOOOOOOOO twitter really do be like that. Love everyone laughing as he runs

ESCALATOR ARC he's splayed out on there. Splayed

Ballinnit curled into ball

THEY TURNED IT INTO SONG

Uh oh Mr beast mention

SHE DID NOT JUST MAKE A BRITISH JOKE

"be really loud" as advice for being self conscious is. Oh boy that speaks volumes hahaha LMAO

Battle time!!! BATTLE TIME!!!

Professor Respect DOWN!!!!

LMAOOO "sight"

Drugs and gambling of Skittles.... that's abit gay innit 🏳️‍🌈🌈✨

Tommyinnit is just goading people into beating him up

C.E.O OF TWITCH??????? WHAT??????!!!!!!!!! also he's making fun of tommyinnit? Bitch???? Throw him into the volcano and let him die /J

Nakedhottubbinginnit shlongshakingonstreaminnit

Famous Big Muscle 💪🏻

HASAN??? WAIT THAT'S HASAN???? @brett-is-afraid YOUR GUY IS IN HERE!!!!!! I didn't recognize him but HE'S IN HERE

Not the pedophilia joke 💀

"are you real" is she. Actually Christian and freaked out or is she playing along I GENUINELY CAN'T TELL

LMAOOOOO THE- WHATTTTTTT smaller streamers...tommyinnit...comedy....HAHAYHGHFHHDHFFHHHHGGHH RHGHHH ON ALL FOURS CRAWLING AND SPASMING AROUND

Ssmajor time!!! PROFESSOR REPSECT DOESN'T APPRECIATE SCOTT

atrghgghhh going feral .

Undertale music 🎶🎶

Professor Respect you gotta take a breakk

Man Tommy is just venting through this character about his career and the pressures of fame..fuck... "You've ruined my life but you've also made me the happiest I've ever been."

THIS GOT SO SERIOUS ALL OF A SUDDEN??? I'M GONNA CRY????? BROTHER??????

THAT'S THE END?????

Okay fuck. //liveblogging end// . Fuck

Bro.....GIRL...WHAT ......hhhh....on the ground. Shaking. What the fuck man. Bro

That was good! That was good that was funny but also I feel . I feel like I need to sit down for a minute. Fuckkkkk man

OH YEAH BITCHES TIME TO GET THERAPIED!!! I forgor to liveblog this until 3 mins in but it's okay nothing stops the tommyinnit. I will reblog this with thoughts and observations from my INNIT MIND

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Quick question sorry if this has been asked before: do you know any Johnlock fanfic where they’re extremely sensual? Like not just making love but just super methodically drawn out and slow and sweet?

Hi Nonny!!

Ahh, because of this ask, I went through my bookmarks to see if I have any listed with “sensuality” so that’s what this list is!! It definitely doesn’t have all of my fics because I have to go back through them and tag them, but in the meantime, enjoy what I started tagging a few months ago when you sent me this ask, LOL <3

As always, add your own fics here, Lovelies!!

SENSUALITY

See also:

Emotional Love Making || [MOBILE POST]

Emotional Love Making Pt. 2

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Morning Sunlight by slashscribe (E, 3,565 w., 1 Ch. || PWP, Morning Sex, Fluff, PWP, Established Rel., Soft Idiots) – A thin band of soft morning light peeks between the curtains and stretches across John’s torso, laying dormant across his forearm, dipping into the space between his arm and his chest, illuminating his right nipple but just brushing the edge of his left, disappearing into his armpit, and reappearing again right over Sherlock’s eyes where his head rests, nestled against John’s shoulder. Sherlock is not annoyed by the light’s intrusion on his sleep, not when it rests so soft and tantalizing on John’s skin, a work of unintentionally erotic art. A PWP with so much emotion.

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by "accident", it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

The Invocation of Saint Margaret by Ewebie (E, 15,831 w., 1 Ch. || POV John,  Crossing Timelines, Light Angst, Fluff, Series 3 John / Series 1 Sherlock, The Matchbox, Mushy Romance, First Time, Bisexual John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Sensuality, Emotional Love Making, Snippets of Time) – When Sherlock Holmes opens the matchbox from The Sign of Three and John finds himself years in the past, back to that first dinner at Angelo's with a much younger Sherlock Holmes. Is he dreaming?

Permanent Fixture by vitruvianwatson (E, 18,836 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S4, Parentlock, Slow Build, Friends to Lovers, They’re Good Parents, Blushing Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Explicit Consent, Sexual Content, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Big Feelings, Crying, First Kiss, Fluff, Anxious Sherlock, Inexperienced Sherlock, Emotional Communication, Love Confessions) – Now, as Rosie sat curled up against Sherlock’s side, John watched and wondered exactly how he had ended up here. Domesticity had never suited him before, not at any point in his life. His disastrous marriage had been proof of that. But somehow, here in the warmth and safety of 221B Baker Street, here with Sherlock Holmes reading medical jargon to his daughter, Sherlock’s bony feet nudging against his leg, John couldn’t imagine anyplace that would make him happier.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds

How To Unfold a Heart by elwinglyre (E, 25,477 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It, BAMF John, Mentioned Eurus, POV First Person Sherlock, Case Fic, Fluff, Slow Burn, Topping from the Bottom, 3 Yr Old Rosie, Introspection, Sexual Fantasies, John Worship, Ogling, Hand Holding, Kidnapping, Domesticity, Sherlock Whump, First Kiss/Time, Doctor John, Caring John, Soft Sherlock, Sensuality, Touching, Crying, Love Confessions, Anxious Sherlock, Rimming, Toplock, Fingering, Bossy Bottom John) – To Sherlock’s dismay, John’s return to Baker Street with Rosie is only temporary. Sherlock’s daily visits to Regent Park with John and Rosie illuminate his lost childhood memories and missed opportunities. But with each trip to the park, Sherlock also feels a growing sense of hope. That is until the past horrors return unexpectedly in a cryptic note folded in the shape of a heart. To decipher the message, Sherlock must uncover the nature of the hearts around him, including his own.

Lucifer's Gardens by ampersand_ch (E, 32,679 w., 12 Ch. || GERMAN VERSION || Romance, Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Murder, Poison / Drugging, Mystery, John Undercover, Academic Club, Therapy, Rituals, Jungian Archetypes, Doctors & Physicians, Grief/Mourning, Esotericism, Hospitals, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, John Falls In Love With Another Man, Jealous Sherlock, Crying, Doctor John, Hand Holding, First Kiss/Time, Mysticism, Hugging, Touching) – John goes undercover for an investigation as a favour to Lestrade in a village in Suffolk. The events surrounding the case awaken deep-seated fears in Sherlock. While John begins to come to a realisation of what he needs in Lucifer's Gardens, Sherlock tries to find a way to reach John – in more ways than one.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w., 7 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

[angelisverba]

no need to be sorry

in which y/n realizes she loves Jason, and he can’t touch himself to the thought of her because it makes him feel guilty

word count: 12.8k

pairing: y/n and her brother’s best friend, jason

warning: strong mentions of sexual trauma and abuse. please read at your own caution if you are not comfortable with that .

author’s note: originally this was supposed to be a super long piece (and the last one) but i wanted to put something else to make the last part even longer :) THIS IS NOT EDITED, sorry not sorry hehe

March is a very confusing month. 

For y/n, it meant SAT cramming and intensive camps for the retake in may. A maxed out speed on her brain as to keep up her grades (and even improve them because God knows her math grade needs urgent care) and constantly keep her nose in her books because finals were approaching soon. 

For Jason, and the entire senior class for that matter, it meant renting out tuxedos and making appointments at the beauty salon in preparation for prom, buying tickets for prom, finding a prom date, asking out said date in a cutesy way that was memorable for both parties.

It meant asking y/n to be his prom date, but not drag her away from her studies because that just wouldn’t be fair.

Hell, Jason still hadn’t taken his girl out on a second date because she was such a busy bee, and had to settle for ‘study dates’. Really it was just him watching her chew on her bottom lip as she transferred notes from her chemistry textbook to her notebook, his own work splayed out in front of him, meaning to be completed but his attention diverted elsewhere. She’d glance up with burning cheeks to tell him that his glasses were sliding down his nose, and Jason— quite nearly in a hypnotic daze— would smile dopily at her and say ‘you’re so pretty’. She would shush him and tell him to get to work, or sometime ask for his help, and Jason would use that as an excuse to wrap his arm around her waist telling her ‘gotta whisper love, come close’ and proceed to explain how the law of gas, ideal gas, and Dalton’s Law of partial pressure differentiated from each other. 

He didn’t mind this. Any time he got with her he treasured, but god did he want to keep her tucked at his side at all times to show him off. It was selfish of him to be jealous that she wasn’t spending time with him when all she wanted to do was study for her future; for college. Selfish because Jason already had everything worked out. He’d gotten a scholarship to his dream school via football and his good-ish grades. Dorming and transportation was all set-up; he was 100% ready to go. 

But y/n? She’d confessed to Jason that she had no idea what she was doing with her life. That she was studying and doing all these things to look good for her college application, but her biggest fear was that they still wouldn’t accept her and she’d wind up going to community college. There were times where her bouncing leg would violently shake their table in the library so much, Jason would drag her out of the chair and take her on a short walk around the library (if her eyes were teary he’d sneak her into a corner and peck at her eyelids softly until she giggled). An effective strategy that resulted in a noticeable tent at his crotch, and a dreamy-eyed y/n that peeked up at him through her lashes with heated cheeks. 

He’d say, “Are you relaxed now? Or should we go home?” 

Home was his house. Y/n had her home, and Jason had his- respectively- but he referred to his place as ‘home’ and she never bothered to correct him.  More often than not (once it got to this point) y/n would nod and they’d head over to his place. 

And, well, who was she to pass up that opportunity? 

Y/n enjoyed reading her dog-eared SAT book on Jason’s bed and falling asleep on her crossed arms. Only because she would wake up an hour or so later, glued next to his side, with him also napping, lips puffy and hair extra fluffy. His hair, how a complete chocolate brown color, closely cropped since he’d cut off all the blond, fanned on the pillow and curled around the frames of his tortoise-shell glasses that he never remembered to take off. 

She’d always take them off for him, and the movement would startle him awake, his green eyes fluttering awake, eyebrows furrowed in a confusion that disappeared when he realized that it was just her. His sweet y/n with sleepy eyes who took his glasses off ever so gently, and reached over him to place them on his bedside.

They were wrapped up in their own little personal heaven when they were together, alone, and it was only disrupted when it was time for Jason to take y/n home. Grabby hands and kissy faces consumed them when she received a questioning text from her parents or brother, and the whole ‘do you really have to go’ ordeal took its course. And maybe- just maybe- Jason enjoyed the goodbyes because y/n always put extra effort into her goodbye kiss, leaning and pressing up against his mouth so their noses were squished against each other, her hand at the collar of his shirt to pull him even closer, communicating to him how much… how much she would miss him. 

She knew that Jason understood, and when they broke apart with a wet suction noise, and her eyes fluttered open to meet his, Jason knew that she knew that he knew what she was trying to say. It was a slight moment of vulnerability on her part, because it was the closest they’d get to admitting/discussing the sexual parts of their relationship. Or rather, the lack of.

But never mind that, it didn’t matter to any of them. They could be intimate without having sex. 

Right?

*                                                      *                                  *

Jason was confused. 

As silly as it was, prom was a big deal. It signified the closing of an era in a teenager’s life; the end of high school. A party to honor their struggles and begin a transition to a period of more struggles. 

Traditionally, you attend a dance with a date. A girlfriend, a crush, a last resort. One could go with friends but, Jason has a girlfriend now and he’d be damned if he didn’t take his pretty girl and show off that he was the one that got her in the end.  

The only issue was: the prom-posal.

He knew that y/n and him didn’t hang in the same crowd, and while they were both mellow, y/n held a little more reserve to public announcements.

She was shy. 

Needless to say, Jason had a very big quest on his shoulders; to find a way to ask y/n out to prom in a way that was memorable and attune to her likings. He thinks he doesn’t think he'd be able to get over it if he messed this up. 

“Jason? Bro are you even listening?” Andrew asked from across the lunch table. Kent stuffed french fries into his mouth, and glanced from both his friends. 

“Sorry, man. What was that?” Jason presses the lock button on his phone, and places it down on the table. 

“I was talking about the rager at Greg’s, is everything alright? You’ve been distant for a few days now, not having issues with y/n are you?” Andrew’s facial features darkened slightly, the deep concerns for his sister shining through his demeanor. Kent picked on the change of atmosphere, and his chewing stops. 

Jason sighed, his shoulders slanting downwards and the fabric of his letter-man jacket coming to a close at his chest. His heart-shaped lips come to a pensive pucker, debating if he should tell his best friend what was on his mind. 

At the troubled look on his face, Kent smiles encouragingly, and says, “You know you can tell us anything, J.” Andrew turns to look at his Kent while he’s speaking, and when he turns back to Jason, he nods, a knowing glimmer in his eyes. 

“What’s up?” His girlfriend’s brother leans forward, prepared to listen.

“I don’t know how to ask y/n to go to prom with me.” 

Andrew and Kent’s facial expression drop to a deadpan, and Jason’s eyebrows furrow in response, confused at their reaction. 

“What?” He looked back and forth between his two unimpressed friends, who suddenly burst into laughter; snickering and pointing fingers at him through wheezed words. 

“You’re fucking whipped,” Kent said, slapping a hand on Andrew’s shoulder and doubling forward.

“My sister,” their laughter calms down momentarily, “has you this upset?” And at his comment, the boys start laughing again, loud enough that it drags the attention of nearby tables. 

“Guys,” the corner of Jason’s lips struggle to stay down. “It’s not funny.” 

“Yeah, it is. Your panties are in a twist because of y/n,” Kent said, “Where is she?” He stands up from the bench and glances around the cafeteria, looking for her. 

Jason’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops, amazed at his friend’s response. “Dicks,” he mutters. “She’s with her English teacher, preparing for an exam.” 

Andrew’s chuckles die down again, and he shakes his head while rubbing his fingers on his forehead, grinning. “Deadass?”

“Yes!” Jason juts his head forward, nodding wildly. “Help me!”

Kent sits again, and places his chin on his palm. “Just go with what she likes, man.”

“Gee, thanks so much.” The stressed boy looks away, defeated.

Perhaps, it was a mistake bringing it up. Instead of receiving help, they were taking the piss out of him. He thought that maybe, because Andrew was related to the girl he was dating, he’d be a bit of hel-

“She keeps bugging me to take her to the aquarium.” 

Jason whips his head around to look at his friend, crossing his arms on the table and leaning with interest. 

“The aquarium?” He asks, eyebrows raising.

“Yeah, they remodeled a few exhibits and she’s been wanting to see them. Sent me a text about it a few days ago,” Andrew reached back to pull out his phone from his back pocket, unlocking it and pulling up a thread of texts from his sister. “Look.” 

The boy takes the phone from his friend’s hand. Y/n had sent her brother a link to the aquarium’s announcement of a reopening that occurred a few weeks before, along with ‘pleeease can we go? pleeease?’ and a puppy-eyed emoji. Andrew had only sent a curt ‘we’ll see’ to which the girl responded with screenshots of seals and penguins. 

A pang hit him straight in the heart, and he was saddened that she hadn’t asked him, given that he had refrained from taking her out in fear of distracting her from her studies. Yet, here she was asking to be taken to the aquarium, and Andrew showed no interest.  

“Take her. Ask her there. The only reason why I haven’t taken her is because she’ll ask for something from the gift shop and they’re expensive as fuck.” Andrew shrugged.

Bingo. 

With a composed look, he clicked off the phone and slid it back. On the inside, he was hopping up and down, pumping his arms with joy because everything had clicked, and he knew exactly what to do.

*                                                      *                                  *

Y/n still felt butterflies every time Jason looked at her.

Every girl wanted to be looked at by someone the way he looked at her.

A soft, dreamy daze that took over his face, eyes shining with an enamored gleam. Lashes fluttering adoringly, and lips coming together in a smirk, like he held all kinds of secrets and wanted to share them with her. His look alone said it all. I want you and only you.

It was overwhelmingly passionate. So intimate; an open admission with no shame. 

“You’re not even paying attention to me,” she whined, flopping over onto her back and throwing an arm over her head. 

They were- as usual- laying on Jason’s bed, with one of y/n’s textbooks spread open in front of them. 

“Can’t help myself,” he pushed up his glasses and raked his hair back. “You’re so pretty it’s distracting.” 

At that, y/n turned herself over so she laid next to Jason again, but her face was still nestled in the crook of her arm where her cheeks flamed. “Stop it,” she said, words muffled. 

“I’m serious.” She felt his weight dip on the bed, his hand coming to brush away hair that blocked the side of her face, and then puffs of air on her arm. Tilting her head so her eye peeked out, she saw that Jason’s mouth was hovering millimeters away from her skin, and when her eyes glanced up, an intense emerald gaze fixed on hers. “Like an angel, you are.”

Fire, heat, tingles littered the areas where his lips pressed against a trail into his skin. A blossoming feeling of affection imprinted onto her arm, and up to her cheek, where his lips lingered right underneath her lashes.

It became too much for her to handle, her heart and mind becoming muddled and confused through the overwhelming sensations that traveled throughout her nerves. Her cognitive senses seemed to refuse to acknowledge the difference between welcomed attention and… unwanted but forced attention. And, in efforts to prevent a hysteric scene or breakdown, she sprung up from her position, pressing a quick kiss into Jason’s cheek so he wouldn’t suspect anything, and sitting so she was almost completely off the bed. 

Jason watched her with… rejection. But, she wouldn’t know that because she refused to meet his eyes. Instead she said, “Have you got marshmallows in the cupboard?” 

“Uhh,” Jason cleared his throat, standing up and heading out of his room. “Yeah, I think so.”

She followed after him, shoulders hunched; ashamed. Mentally, she was pushing away repressed trauma from what seemed like yesterday. A haunting memory that refused to leave like paranoia. 

“Tiny ones or…?” He heads straight for the silver door knob next to the fridge, stepping in to squat at the lower shelves. Y/n stands in the doorway, hands awkwardly at her sides. 

“The big ones, please.” She doesn’t look up when he extends his hand to give her the fluffy white bag, and he doesn’t ask what's wrong.

Silently, y/n walks over to the kitchen island to pluck a skewer out of the drawer, and pops her hip to shut it. Jason lifts himself to sit on the countertop, his white shirt lifting to expose the pale sliver of skin that escaped from his grey sweatpants. Out the corner of her eye, she could see the enticing movement, and it caused her hands to shake, but she hid it in the twisting wrist movement of turning on the stove. 

A tearing noise comes from behind her, blending in with the clicking noises of the stove turning on. Jumping at the startling disruption, she turns to see Jason with an Oreo midway to his mouth. He gives her an open lipped smile, eyes wide as if shocked, and it makes her burst into a chuckle. 

“Can I get one?” She asked.

Wordlessly, he passed her a cookie. She took it, and it seemed that he purposely grazed his fingers over her palm. 

Y/n yanked her hand away like he’d burned her. 

Alarmed, Jason hops off the counter and moves to stand next to her.

“Y/n, is everything al-”

“Do you want a marshmallow?” She interrupted him, her breaths tense. 

“Uh, no.” He said, his head slightly shaking in disbelief at her actions. Had he done something wrong?

The girl stabbed the skewer through the white candy, and twirled it over the flames, the edges quickly turning a golden color. 

“Baby, what’s wr-” 

It catches fire, and her lips blow them off before it turns completely black, the fuh noise that escapes overpowering Jason’s gentle words. She was scared of breaking in front of him. She was scared to show him how much she was holding in.

“Can you hold this?” Voice small and squeaky.

He took the skewer out of her hands, holding it while she opened the oreo cookie. Knowing what she was gonna do, he gingerly placed the melted marshmallow on top of the frosting covered cookie, and pulled away when she sandwiched the top cookie on top.

Y/n takes a bite out of the treat, and relishes in the slightly burnt, woodsy taste of the white taffy and how it melts on her tongue and slides with ease down her throat. So much so, that a small noise of appreciation comes from the depths of her chest.

“S’good?” Jason asked, a breathy-uneasy- laugh whooshing through his nose.

She’s nodding before she looks up at him, and her head stills when she locks eyes with him. 

It’s the same, intense, focused look from before.

The one that promised so much. And it just- god she was so confused. 

So confused that she leaned forward to kiss him, disregarding the fact that- in that moment- she didn’t want affection. She needed a bit of distance and time to process her emotions.

 And instead of doing so, she lunged and connected herself to him in a smoldering embrace of their mouths. A sudden flood of inexplicable physical impressions, claiming, pleading.

Jason didn’t hesitate to respond, his hands appearing to cup at her cheeks, thumbs gingerly rubbing on the apples of her cheeks. He breathes deeply; a sharp inhale into her mouth that pulled his frame taught against hers. The forgotten treat pressed up against the divot of his pectoral muscles. 

The instant his tongue snaked into her mouth, he was bombarded with the warm and sweet taste of her mouth. Marshmallows and just her essence crowding over his taste buds; his nose also breathing in the fruity scent of her hair and woodsy burnt candy. Urgently, his lips suckled on her lower lip, y/n gasping at the sudden, ardent actions. 

Had she been any other girl, that would have been the night she finally let herself have sex with Jason. 

The mood was right; they were both bleeding mad for each other. 

But, y/n was y/n and that’s not how she was wired to go. Her mind began again with the confusion, her heart rate picking up double the rates from both the proximity of the boy and what was going to happen if the kiss continued. Did she want this? Fuck, of course she wanted this! Why was she…

“She’s not gonna do it because she’s a prude!” said one of the girls in the room. 

“No, I’m n-”

“Yeah, you are y/n. You’re a virgin. Probably wouldn’t even know what to do,” said the same girl.

Y/n had been invited to a party that the cheerleaders in her class were throwing, and boys from rival school had been invited to. They were all sitting in a circle- enough people to fill up the living room of a rich man’s house- playing a game of truth or dare, and they’d just gotten to y/n. 

She’d gotten dared to give one of the football players of the opposing school a blowjob… in the middle of the living room, with everyone watching. When they all saw her face fall, redden, and then pale,  no one wasted time to verbally pounce on her hesitance.

“Look at her! She’d pathetic Marcy, she’s not gonna do it.” The girl who invited her, Marcy, looked at her with a smirk. 

Embarrassed, and just numb to everything that was going on around her as well as what may come depending on her decisions. All she knew is that she needed to do this because she’d look bad if she didn’t. She didn’t want to be known as a prude. Even if she was a virgin. She didn’t want to be thought of badly. 

“Yes, I will.” Her meek reply had silenced the whole room.

“Come over here, and blow me.” Chris was a sophomore that was known for his promiscuous ways, and the fact that he had a big… that was evident when y/n came to kneel in front of him. 

Shaking, she sat in front of him with wide eyes, her back burning with stares and her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her hands. 

Throughout it all, she felt disgusting. Ashamed. And unable to breathe because the guy wasn’t letting her come off, holding her down with a strong grip in her hair. Tears burned on her lashes and down her cheeks, partly from being unable to breathe, and the other because she was scared. 

God, she was so scared. What would happen to her when this got out? What then? When everyone knew what she’d done? There were more than enough witnesses present to attest that she’d given head to a guy she didn’t even know.

She’d felt a hand on her breast, and her eyes snapped open from their painful clench; alarmed. The guy sitting next to Chris had leaned over to touch her, and at her scared look he only laughed and continued to do it. His hand trailed lower and lower, and eventually she felt something hot spill down her aching throat. Her ears were ringing, her eyes bleary. 

Much of how she escaped had been... blurred through her panic.

But the feeling… that dreadful, terrorized feeling. It was what deer felt moments before being impacted by a car. 

She’d never forget it.

It was the same feeling creeping up on her then. The niggling, freezing, ambushed fear. It’s the reason why she pulled away from him, and said in a wet whisper, “I can’t.”

She hugs her arms across her chest, oreo still in hand, and turns away with her eyes dropped to the floor.  Y/n’s mind is reeling, utterly confused and just so scared scared scared.

“Did I do something wrong?” Jason asked, trailing after her to place a comforting hand on her shoulder. His lips are a dark shade of pink, the skin of his cheeks a flushed color; if one were to look down, they’d see the heather grey color of his sweatpants was slightly lifted. But his arousal was pushed aside by his concern towards the small girl, who shivered when his fingers grazed her shoulder. He could see her eyes were shut closed, but a tear escaped to roll down her cheeks, and at that the thick hairs of his brows dipped to crinkle on his forehead. “Y/n?”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, her words hitching and cracking. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

Jason pulled her into his chest, his head shaking no no no to her apologies. “There’s no need to be sorry, dovie. It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

“But I am! I so sorry, Jason. I-” Her words died on her tongue, collapsed by a series of sobs that ruptured out of her lips. She was guilty. So so guilty. She felt like she was lying to him by not telling him of what had… occurred. 

“Baby, baby, hey. Y/n,” He pulled back to cup her face with his hands again, forcing her to gaze into his calm, forest eyes. “Listen to me. Deep breaths,” he began to inhale, his chest expanding with the intake of air. “You’re okay. I’m not mad at you for anything, dove.” 

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Y/n sets the cookie on the counter, and goes to wipe at her eyes roughly, Jason tugging at her wrists and doing it himself, shushing her as he does. 

“Well I can’t be mad if I don’t know, yeah?” He gives her a small smile. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“N-no,” she shakes her head. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay.” He nods, still smiling. “That’s okay. I’m here to listen whenever you’re ready.”

Y/n just nodded and gave him a sad attempt to seem happy, but her chin began to tremble, crinkles appearing underneath her lip, and she rushed to dig her nose in the crook of Jason’s neck. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I wish you’d tell me what’s got you so upset.” He murmured into her hair, his arms wrapping around her. 

“Please, Jason. I don’t wanna,” She sniffled. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Alright. I’ll stop asking. Don’t wanna stress you out anymore, dovie. You need a break as it is.” Jason rubs a warm hand up and down her back soothingly when he feels her nose dip into his collarbone. 

She sniffles some more, a slight hiccup in her breaths, and Jason continues, “speaking of breaks,” this catches her attention, and y/n tilts her head so she’s able to rest it in his shoulder and look up at his side profile. “Would you like to go to the aquarium with me next week?” 

At this, her head springs up so she’s eye level with Jason, her wet eyes gleaming as a surprised smile plays on her mouth. “The aquarium?” 

“Yes, the aquarium.” Jason laughed at her response, his eyes flitting between hers. The skin of his chin crinkled because he was looking down at her, and y/n wondered how he still managed to look so good with a double chin. “A little birdy told me you’ve been wanting to go.” 

Squealing, she said, “Oh my gosh, Jason please! Can we?!” 

Jason pressed a small kiss to her nose, “Of course, silly. It’s why I asked.”

“I’ve been asking Andrew but he….” she trails off, and her eyes become squinty, “heeey, did he tell you?” 

“Mayb-” She jumped suddenly at the feeling of her phone vibrating in her back pocket. The Simpsons theme song blaring through the quiet kitchen, and letting her know her brother was calling. Most likely to tell her it was time to come home. 

“I’ll go get your stuff,” Jason mumbled, separating himself with a wistful look in his eye. 

Y/n mumbled a ‘thank you’ and fished her phone out of her back pocket, pressing the green call button and holding it up to her ear.

“Hey, lover girl. Mom says it’s time to come home. See ya,” and he hangs up before y/n can even respond. 

Rolling her eyes, y/n heads upstairs to help Jason pack her stuff with all her troubles plaguing her heart like weeds.

*                                                      *                                  *

Y/n had eased up a little on her avid studying habits because the SAT had passed, and she studied hard enough that she wasn’t planning on re-taking the exam-- no matter the score. In addition to that, there was enough to place on her shelf to make her look… well, better than good. Years worth of community service work, volunteering, participating in and starting clubs, all about to finally pay off. It was surreal. Kinda stressful, too, but now that she had time off she wanted to decompress. Enjoy herself some. 

To begin with, much of it was taking time off with herself. Meaning, no Jason, or Andrew, or her parents. Just her. She didn’t even have to explain to Jason that she wanted to be alone because after her initial comment of taking time off alone, he’d kissed her palm and murmured about how proud he was against her skin. No bitterness or spite attached. He’d even made a joke about ‘bro time with Andrew’. 

The gym nearest to her house was offering a free month trial-- which just so happened to be the amount of time she was planning on taking to relax before starting to study for finals again-- and she took it up instantly when she found out that they offered yoga and guided meditation classes. It was most likely the best thing she’d ever done.

Apart from getting an hour of physical exercise a day (because yoga is harder than it looks) she was the most relaxed ever. Her sleep was the best it’s been in so long, and her body felt so light. Time to reflect, she’d decided, was very important.

 Plus, her self-esteem had gone up knowing she was doing something to better herself for* herself. 

For the most part, that was how most of her days went.

Go to school, sometimes she’d eat lunch with Jason, get a ride home from him (the goodbye kisses ignited her), head to the gym, come back home and fall right asleep. She took advantage of the first three periods to finish any work that she had to turn in.

It’s only logical that she’d be nervous the day of her date with Jason, since it hadn’t been on her mind at all, and she hadn’t been spending time with the boy so his presence has not consoled her. An anxious fervor had plotted itself in the depths of her belly, goading her like a devil on her shoulder. Better watch how you act, it said, or you’ll fuck this all up.

Jason was the same way. 

The poor boy had also taken to working out to release his...stress. Sleepless nights were spent with the weight-rack in his father’s home gym- arms aching from the strain of bench pressing. Shirtless torso draped in a sheen of sweat, flushed a pink color and littered with prominent veins as he pulled his body upwards, jaw clenched and mind focused, having already reached the point where he listens to his body’s begs for mercy. Rhythmic release of tense breaths escaped through the hard line of his lips, muscles defined under a glint of perspiration beneath the lights of the room, shorts low on his hips. His curls dripped salty beads down the line of his nose, and matted on his forehead. 

He lost himself in the repetitive movements, body going numb until his brain turned off. 

It was almost better than sex. Hell he did it to forget about sex.  

He swears his body chose to betray him every time he was getting ready to fall asleep, projecting filthy images of a girl so sweet, he felt guilty just humoring them. Swollen red lips, hot mouths, soft hands, perky breasts blotchy with his marks. These pictures were so explicit and vivid in his brain about y/n, who was nothing but sweet and kind, and had never come close to even insinuating the things he imagined. 

Hell on earth-- torture is what it felt like, having to ignore sticking a hand down his pants and pulling at himself until he found relief with such an innocent girl on his mind. It made him feel icky and gross because she was so pure. Jason preferred to turn to exhaustion of his body rather than pleasure. And, more often that not he greeted his father’s gym with a scowl and determination to distract himself, pushing himself until he was nothing but a breathless, strained heap laying all tired-out on the bench, salty beads running a path down his forehead and dripping down his neck where his shoulders drooped-- defeated.  

Waking up the next day was a burning adventure; muscles feeling as if they’d been shot through and pricked with needles over and over again.  

But, his dignity was still intact and he was able to look y/n in the eyes with no remorse. The one time he’d jerked off to her, he was a sweating, burning mess as he made his way up to her in the halls.

He’d learned his lesson then.

His nerves didn’t run as deep as y/n’s, but he did second guess himself the more intricate his plan got. Take a certain route, be there at a certain time so there wouldn’t be so full, alert the personnel of his presence. 

Jason had approached his mother, Anne, the night that she had come home, and questioned her about her friend’s sister that worked as a zookeeper, to see if she had connections to the aquarium. Turns out, she did and-and, 

“Honey, what’s the sudden interest in Penny’s sister?” She looked up at her son while chopping green onions. 

Stammering, he rubbed his neck and said, “I was kinda… wondering- maybe, uhm… you could call in a favor for-for me…”

“What for?” 

“I wanted to ask… y/n to prom at the uhm.. The aquarium,” his cheeks go pink and he can’t keep steady eye-contact with his mother. She’s smiling at him knowingly, smiling at him from underneath the lip of the wine-glass she holds up to her mouth. 

She smacks her lip, “Y/n? The prom? When did this happen?” Anne smirked at him, scraping the onions off the cutting board with a knife onto the pan. 

This would be the moment where the distraught teenage boy goes off on his mom for being absent and not knowing a single thing about him. Slam his firsts against the counter-top while sneering. 

But Jason loved his mother and they maintained good communication, so there would be none of that. “Start of February…” He bites his thumb.

The sound of sizzling onions is what fills in the silence of their gazes. His mother slowly nodded her head, and Jason blushing. 

“I knew it.” 

Jason furrowed his eyebrows at his mother’s statement. “What?” 

“I knew this would happen. I knew it the day she first came in with Andrew. The instant you said her name, I knew.” 

Jason furrowed his eyebrows at his mother’s statement. “What?” 

“I knew this would happen. I knew it the day she first came in with Andrew. The instant you said her name, and that look in your eye…” She gleamed at her son. “You love her, don’t you?” 

The boy gaped at his mother. Had he really been that transparent from the beginning? So much so that not even he had noticed his feelings? “You knew?” 

“Course I did. Pushed you out of me didn’t I? Know you like the back of my hand.” His mother set the glass down and continued cutting vegetables. “It’s a mother’s instinct to know when her boy has been swept off his feet.” A soft pat on the cheek meets a dazed Jason. “Now, what’s this favor you wanted?” 

*                                                      *                                  *

Y/n was scared to admit how deep her feelings were for Jason.

Scared to admit that the usual fluttering gnaw at her ribs had developed into an inferno that took over her entire body, centering at her heart and spreading through her nervous system, leaving her skin a tingling network of her emotions.

Basically, take puppy love, and remove ‘puppy’. She loved him. With her entire being and more she loved him. She could see her life with him more secure than anything in her life, which was a big admission because the poor girl was all about security. And Jason made her feel more comfortable than anything in her life at that moment; he made her forget about anything that wasn’t them together in that moment. 

The morning of their date was like one of those scenes in movies where the character just has that really big realization, and all her feelings hit her at once. Y/n pieced it all together in a few seconds. How much he meant to her, how she loved him* and how scary it would be if she were to admit her feelings and receive nothing in return. 

It was at cause of these thoughts that her nerves revved up to their max, mind overthinking different ways that her feelings might cause this date to go wrong. Like something might slip from her lips; a rushed, urgent proclamation of her devotion full of jumbled stutters and met with a stunned look and a freshly single boyfriend.

“Honey, Jason’s here!” Called her mother at the base of the stairs. 

Y/n watched herself grow pale in her reflection, teeth sinking in her bottom lip. No turning back now. 

“Coming!” She took one last look at herself, pulling on the sleeves of the cardigan she layered over the long, white-eyelet dress she was saving for an occasion like this. It was a light, summer material with white embroidered flowers and a nice frilly detain around the waist. The creme cardigan served no purpose other than the fact that she was nervous, and covering up calmed her down. There wasn’t much to cover, but bare shoulders made her heart want to start a riot, screaming at her that people were looking and it was time to get anxious about whether she looked good or not. 

She forced herself to tear her eyes away from the dewy makeup on her face, drawing her mind away from picking at it until it was perfect because it would never be that and it’s okay. Instead, she focused on what lay ahead of her for the day— and maybe that was a tad bit worse but that didn’t matter because she was already in the witch’s pot and the brew was boiling— her date with Jason looming with possibility. Not to mention, she’d finally be getting to see the newly added exhibits she was longing to see. 

Cute baby sea lions, penguins and jellyfish that quickly outweighed all the disastrous scenarios filling her mind. 

Skipping down the steps with an eager smile on her lips, y/n struggled to hold in all her happy squeaks because downstairs Jason was waiting for her and-

“There she is!” Her mother greeted her at the base of the stairs, and winked at her daughter with a smile, a cheeky expression displayed upon the fact that what was happening was a surprising event. Her little y/n going out on a date with none other than her favorite out of Andrew’s friends, Jason.

This would have been the moment in the movies where everything freezes and everyone else disappears. The camera comes to a zoom in on Jason and y/n’s faces, the screen split in half but it the same, dreamy, loved-up expression on both their faces. Y/n’s cheeks warmed with a soft flush and a cheek splitting grin on her mouth, lips that shined with the gloss she had put on them, and eyes that shined under the kitchen lights with an extra sparkle that had floated up from her chest that had become the cavern where she shoved all her emotions.

Jason is equally stunned, unsure of how his girlfriend could get any more beautiful. Bunny teeth on full display, hands in the pockets of his blue jeans. He wore a satin bomber jacket with a tiger on the lower right side of his abdomen that was perched on snow-capped mountains that stretched up to his chest, a swooping eagle on his left breast. Two buttons were left unclasped, the collar of a white under-shirt peeking out, and the dip of his breast-bone on display, highlighted by the glint of the golden cross necklace his grandmother had given him when he was eight.

Meanwhile he took in the sight of her, y/n did the same as well, eyes roaming all over his figure and settling on the eyes that were already set on hers. He loved how she turned a pretty bothered color when they locked dreamy gazes. How her demeanor changes to shy glances when he smiles at her all toothy- his dimples prominent on his cheeks. The boy straightened, looking proud to be able to take her on a date. 

“Well are you guys gonna stare at each other all day, or go to the aquarium?” Andrew asked. He was standing at the kitchen entrance, a bag of Cheetos in his arm, and one cheek bulging with chips. 

“Andrew!” His mother playfully swatted his bicep. “Be nice! You’ll be the same, just wait.”

“Ready to go?” Jason asked, giving a sluggish nod towards the door, his being still transfixed in y/n, who nodded equally as slow even though her heart raced a mile a minute. “Alright, let’s go then. I’ll bring her home before 10, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Y/n walked towards the hand that Jason stretched out for her to grab, her hand swimming in his. It suddenly made sense why he was able to launch a football 400 meters. His hands were big, with a wide palm and nimble fingers that wrapped around hers, the top of it striped with the pleasing ridged of his veins. 

“Bye, hunnies! Have fun…. But not too much fun!” The mother clutched at her chest, her eyes soft at the sight of Jason opening the door for her daughter. 

“Ew, mom!” Andrew said, crumbling the bag to a close and retreating up the stairs, presumably to his room. He stopped at the base, and turned to say, “And I’ll be here, the brother forgotten by this best friend, woe is me!” 

His friend twisted around with a hand on the doorknob, “You know I love you, babe!” 

Andrew said something stupid along the lines of ‘show me, ya stud!’ before his mother shushed him up and waved at the couple that it was okay to leave, approaching the doorway to lock up.

Y/n peeked sideways at Jason, finding him already looking at her with a cheeky smirk. 

“Caughtcha looking,” He said, taking hold of her hand again and giving it a mall squeeze, leaning over to peck her cheek. “Missed you, y/n.”

She wanted to stop and pull him in by both sides of his face to smash their lips together, but she knew that her mom was probably watching through the window. “Wanna kiss you good so bad, but my mom’s probably watching through the window and I don’t wanna hear about it later.” 

“It’s okay, baby, I know. Wanted to ravish you when I saw you coming down the stairs, but that’s not the most appropriate thing to do when my girlfriend’s mom is present, is it?” They reached his car, and he sped up slightly to open the door for her, placing a hand on the small of her back. The grip on her phone increased at the sudden warmth on her body, her mind jumping to dirty assumptions on where this could lead to. 

She got in the car with a quiver in her belly, and it jolted away when Jason shut the door behind her. What was she thinking? Their relationship was built upon glances and sly touches, and how she was flustered in a non-sexual way over him? Strongly?

“Did you wanna get food anywhere before?” He said when he opened the door to his side, leg hiking up and to the side to take a seat. “Dunno ‘bout you, but I’m really really craving those chicken-avocado paninis from that one little coffee shop, and I know you really like their milk tea, what do you say?”

“I say that’s a really good idea.” Y/n said, nodding with a pinch on one side of her face, her true feeling hidden. Eyes trained at the way he held the steering wheel; one hand at 12 while he turned the key into the ignition. Maybe he would hold her neck while the other rubbed at her…

What the fuck? She needs to cut it out. 

Clearing her throat and looking out the window she said, “I could definitely go for a milk tea right now…”

“Yeah? Are you excited for today?” He twists to check behind him before pulling out of his parallel position to the curb, and y/n uses that moment to glance at the smooth skin of his neck, imagining how it would feel underneath her fingertips… her mouth…

“Yes,” She chokes, saliva collecting at the back of her tongue and slipping through. There’s a small pause where she coughs, and Jason plucks a bottle of water from the glove compartment, the back of his hand grazing her knees and the tops of her thighs, which only makes her cough harder. 

“Are you okay, my love? Here,” using the flat of his wrist to take hold on the steering wheel while he opened the bottle, “drink some. I don’t want you to die before you’ve seen the jellyfish.” 

A feeble ‘thank you*’ left her lips before the water bottle occupied it. The liquid washed out anything that had agitated her, and she drank extra to fill the time for at least a few more seconds. She was terrified of doing something wrong. 

The car was pulling up the parking lot of their local cafe when she placed the bottle in the cup holder between them. Jason didn’t have a clue what was going through her head, or the fact that he should be concerned because her thoughts had traveled to him fingering her while she made a mess of his seat. He was simply so grateful to be spending time with the girl who he loved. 

Who he loved.

The boy had realized the extremities of his regards after his mother had spoken them aloud. 

You love her don’t you?

Yes, yes he did. He had known that it was there. The guzzling, spritzy feeling he felt over his chest- like when a sip of a freshly opened can of Sprite goes down your throat- when he saw her, felt her touch, thought about her, had always been there. Always. It was there the day he bumped into her outside of the locker room, her tiny frame going unnoticed when he rounded the corner of the locker room where she was waiting for her brother because he was busy texting some girl, but the moment he heard a squeaky ‘oh, I’m so sorry!’, it was there. 

In some aspects, Jason was a bit dense, and this was one of them. He didn’t act when he should’ve. Or at least recognized what was going on in that broad chest of his-- he doesn’t think he would’ve acted because Andrew wouldn’t have held back. They hadn’t developed such a strong bond to come to the understanding that they did (Jason had made a really bold statement about life long partners and Andrew had been too blown away to stay mad). 

Jason loved y/n, and he always would; that was just facts.

“Wanna stay in here or go inside with me?” He asked her, taking the key out and placing a hand on the door. 

She was lightning quick to say “With you!” a bashful look overcoming her when he looked at her all knowingly, like he could see right through her. “I’ll go with you so you don’t have to carry everything,”  y/n blubbered in efforts to reclaim her dignity, and stepped out of the car. 

He feigned being hurt, “Owie, that stung. Are you saying I’m not strong?” Jason followed after her, a playful pout in his lips, “Tell you what,” he placed an arm around her neck, tugging her close to him and putting his lips by her ear, “I can carry you and the food, at the same time.”

Tables with umbrellas were located at the front of the cafe, people sitting with their computers open or having a chat with friends. Some looked up, some didn’t, but the stares of those who did made y/n feel thousands of times shyer than what she felt. 

The girl couldn’t help but squeeze the fabric of her sweater around herself, her thoughts getting the best of her, the feeling of his lips an enticing action that drove her mad…

He knew it too, chuckling to himself as he opened the door. 

Inside, only a single person made up the line for ordering, and she was already in the process of giving the man her card to pay. Jason and y/n stood side by side, looking up at the menus as if they were thinking over their choices, but really just thinking about each other. 

“Nex- Well, well, well.”

Y/n doesn’t think she had ever forgotten that voice. And hearing it ten, with Jason at her side, brought back the fear she hadn’t even begun to overcome. Her face went white, her lungs freezing, and her feet glued to the ground. 

Shock, was the medical term for it. 

When your body is submerged into temperatures it can’t handle, it goes through a series of procedures to attempt survival. It begins to slow down to conserve energy, shutting down to keep in heat, or await help. Hearts slow, lungs slow, and in extreme, abrupt situations, a person can faint. 

At the appearance of Chris after nearly an entire year, y/n wanted to faint. She wished she had, that way she wouldn’t have to endure Jason’s confused glances, and Chris’s malicious, salacious smirk. 

“Y/n, long time no see, baby.” He said, a piece of gum that he had hidden in his cheek appearing as he started to chew, leaning forward on the counter and giving Jason a once over. “Who’s that?” 

Jason’s eyebrows furrowed at the audacity this guy had, calling his girl ‘baby’. Y/n wasn’t looking at him, she couldn’t- she wasn’t aware of what was happening anymore, retreated into deep parts of her brain- but had she, she would’ve seen a bone-chilling, intimidating look of dominance in his usually kind green eyes. “I’m her boyfriend, who are you?” He said, stepping forward so his thighs were flush with the edge of the counter. His body was pulled tight like the strings on a violin, one pluck away from releasing a disastrous melody. 

Y/n’s eyes began to tear from not blinking them, her heart going from beating normal to beating so hard she could feel it in her fingertips, her stomach dropping like it had been ripped to her feet. 

“Who am I?” Chris licked the inside of his cheek, and y/n gagged. Repulsed, her feet tripped over themselves in attempts to get to the trashcan by the pickup site. “There wasn't even anything in your mouth, babe! Guess that thing they say about muscle memory is true, huh?”

Jason didn’t pay attention to the last thing that he said because he ran over to hold his girlfriend’s hair, rubbing her back and whispering that ‘it’s okay, my love, take deep breaths’. Her body started to tremble when nothing came out, her eyes emitting actual tears now, feeling undeserving of Jason’s affection because of what she’d done.

“I’m so-rry,” she whispered, her face a splotchy, red color that made him panic on the inside at what could plague her. “Can we go?” 

“Yeah,” He nodded quickly, no questions asked.”Yeah, let’s go.” 

Y/n shot up then, practically running out of the store while Chris laughed a belly-clenching laugh that pushed her out further. Jason looked back at him once, anger on clear display because whatever the guy had done, it was bad if it made her this upset.

When he turned around, y/n’s figure was disappearing  through the view of the store’s window, arms clutching herself as she ran to the parking lot. There were more stares than when they first arrived when he ran out after her with a call of her name. 

“Y/n!” He turned the corner to see her yanking violently at his door handle, tears streaming continuously down her cheeks now. Her shoulder jerked back and pushed forward until her knuckles collided on the material of the car. She was hurting herself. “Hey!” He yelled, yanking her back and wrapping his arms around her torso to restrict her movements. 

She thrashed for a few seconds, sobs leaving her until she went limp, which was when he let her go. His eyes were wide with concern, not being able to believe what had just happened. 

“Dovie? Look at me, dovie,” With a curled finger, he gently encouraged her to look at him. Irritated, doe eyes blinked with...  fear. 

“Do you want me?” Were the words that left her mouth in a breathy tremble. 

“I always want you,” Jason said, not hesitating to respond to her abrupt inquiry. His thick brown eyebrows were still knitted, however, and she knew that she owed him answers. As much as she couldn’t bring herself to give them up, y/n said,

“Would you want me even if I was used?” She shut her eyes tight, not being able to bear looking at him. It felt as if she were the one using him then, comforted by his presence, but lying to him as well. 

He scoffed, head shaking. “Yes. Even then I’d still love you.” Jason’s composure remains the same,neither alarmed or shocked that he had let it ‘slip’ past his lips because he hadn’t. He loved her and he told her. 

Y/n, on the other hand, burst into tears and dropped her head, her forehead on his chest, chanting a pathetic, “I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Y/n, I need you to tell me what just happened,” He crooned into her ear, his lips kissing her head in attempts to show his affection to comfort her, “Let me help you.” 

She shook her head, and the gold zipper of his sweater scratched her forehead when she did. “No. No, I’m sorry.” She looked up at him, her voice pleading, “I don’t want to ruin our date. Can I tell you after?” Jason looked at her with lips pressed into a firm line. “Please.” She begged.

“Not gonna ruin our date, dovie,” He kissed her right cheek, and her eyelid, the bridge of her nose, and nudged his forehead against hers, “Spent so much time waiting for you, that I’m not gonna let a silly thing break us apart. I’m willing to fight, y/n. I already have.” He fumbled behind her, unlocking the door and propping it open before he pressed a kiss to her lips. A deep press that conveyed everything he just said. I love you.

A shaky, relieved breath left her when they parted, her eyes still shut when he said, “Get in the car, my love,” with another, plushy kiss to her lips before he stepped back to see her get in the car. Her eyes opened slowly to see him smiling at her, no trace of anything strange in his eyes- like he had forgotten everything that happened in the past 10 minutes. 

Y/n mumbled an ‘okay’ and got inside, putting on his seat belt as he closed the door and walked over to his side. She wondered if this was it, if this was her messing up and at the end of the day she would be crying into her pillow because he’d broken up with her. If e was just playing nice because that was just Jason, his MO.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice that he had turned on the radio until he started singing along to it. An oldies station that he always had on if there wasn’t any music coming from his phone. It was in the middle of Prince’s Nothing Compares 2 U to which Jason didn’t hesitate to start singing. 

“I went to the doctor’s and guess what he told me, guess what he told me,” he looked over at her while he was singing, a playful look in his eyes, and he shimmied his shoulders. It was a classic ‘sing to your girlfriend so she’ll never forget this song and always associate this song with you’ moment. 

“I went to the doctor’s and guess what he told me, guess what he told me,” he looked over at her while he was singing, a playful look in his eyes, and he shimmied his shoulders. It was a classic ‘sing to your girlfriend so she’ll never forget this song and always associate this song with you’ moment. 

“He said girl you better try to have fun no matter what you do,” his singing voice was a direct reflection on his character, smooth like honey, but deep and slightly scratchy like the comfort of burning wood, “but he’s a fool.” 

Just then, his voice gets a little louder, “Cause nothing compares to you.” He placed a hand on her knee, his lips forming an exaggerated ‘o’ shape on the ‘you’. Jason was clearly singing to her, his eyes flickering from the road to her as a sweet gesture to direct his words to her. 

Y/n sniffled and laughed, using her finger to trace the veins on the back of Jason’s hands, looking up at him while he sang to her. She had the sudden urge to reiterate what he had confessed in the parking lot. How it swelled in her chest, and consumed her. 

But she couldn’t. It was hard and she didn’t know why. Maybe it was because he didn’t know the whole truth about her. Instead she wrote it on his hand. Her caresses going from random to spelling out letters on his knuckles. He noticed this. How the movements were calculated now, and the singing stopped. Green eyes went from the road to her eyes, to the road to their hands.

I love you, too.

She wiped her hand over his when she finished, and didn’t dare look up at him, so she looked out the window but left her hand in his hold. He brought it up to his lips, and kissed her knuckles, rubbing his lips over them repeatedly.

*                                                      *                                  * 

Jason stepped out of the car, and took long, quick strides over to her door, y/n admiring how long and muscular his legs looked in his jeans. He pulled the door open, leaning back so the door could swing past his torso, but staying relatively close to the car, giving her just enough space to get out. Y/n didn’t think anything of it, until she stood, and was face to face with his face, her nose swamped with the toned down scent of fresh, spring scented body wash merged with the soft smell of his skin. 

Given how close she was, she could see the lines on his cupid's bow where his skin color changed from a golden tint to the strawberry of his lips. 

“Can you kiss me properly now, baby?” He said, voice low and raspy. Hands came to flatten on the hood of his Prius, caging her in so she was close to his torso. A blush formed from the way he stared at her mouth like he was starved. 

“P-properly?” She muttered, her hands taking purchase on his hips, and smoothing up his sides, the material cool under her hands. 

“Yeah,” He licked the inside of his cheek, his head tilting, “Like this.”

Jason pushed forward until her back hit the car, and their hips were flush, y/n’s hands stuck between them, but she maneuvered them to she could palm at his chest, her nails digging in like cat’s claws when his lips found their way together, pillowed between each other in a passionate embrace that warmed her to her toes. 

“Mmph, baby ‘ya marking me with your fingers,” He spoke in a sotto voice, heavy breaths and wet noises of their smacking lips resonating through their ears.

It took everything in her not to moan, and she knew that if they kept going it would be inevitable, so she unclenched her hands with a reluctant squeak, and ducked her head into his neck. Breath hot on his neck, “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, no. I… uhm, I liked it, my love. You didn’t do anything wrong, don’t be shy.” He flexed his jaw, his eyes rolling at the back of his head at recalling the feeling of her hands- dainty and small, and sweet,, and god* it was just her*- clawing at his chest. Jason dipped forward, and kissed her neck. His lips staining her skin with scorching heat, the soft skin creating a magnetic force between them. 

She moaned at that, her teeth scratching at his neck tentatively.  “Stop it,” Her head felt floaty, her limbs soft, “Wanna see the fishies and the way that you’re…” “The way that I’m what, dovie?” He’s stunned by her moan, his brain haywire. “Tell me.”

“The way you’re talking is gonna me make me wanna stay here, and I really wanna see the fishies. Please?” She’s whining; voice an embarrassingly high pitched tone. Her hands gripped the collar of his sweater for stability because her knees were shaking. 

“Alright. Alright, let’s go see the fishies, baby.” Jason pecks her one last time at the juncture of her neck, and takes a step back to grab her hand. “Come on.”

*                                                      *                                  * 

 “So, they’ve got McDonald’s, Tam’s Burgers, Ruby’s Diner, and Sushi.” Jason holds a tri-fold directory of the aquarium in one hand, and y/n’s hand in the other. 

“Sushi? At an aquarium?” She skews half her face to the side like she tasted something sour. 

“I know right?” He copies her face, “The irony. Up for burgers? It’s all they’ve got.” 

Y/n’s stomach grumbled at the mention of food, and she giggled when Jason noticed and laughed at her. “Burgers sound good,” she said, rubbing her stomach comically.  Although she was still heated by their earlier interaction, both were pretending like nothing happened, and like they didn’t have a big thing waiting for them at the end of the day.

Like she wasn’t going to reveal how sh-

“Anything for you, baby.” Jason Jason held up the tri-fold again and blew out of his lips as he made out the route to Tam’s burgers. 

When they both got there, they ordered the same thing: one cheeseburger with a vanilla milkshake. Oh, and they were sharing chili cheese fries.

It was the epitome of a perfect date for a young couple in love. They chose to sit on the same side of the booth because they were greedy to get everything they could from each other. Unnecessary touches were made more than the amount of things they said to each other. Him brushing hair behind her each, hand on her thigh, rubbing her cheeks, feeding her, wiping her mouth, her arm hooked through his, pecking his cheek after a sip of her milkshake, nudging his feet with hers, caressing his thigh. It was on the rubbing his thigh part where things would get slightly heated, and Jason would stop to kiss her, licking into her mouth to taste the vanilla that was also on his tongue.

Jason paid for their meal, much to y/n’s begging, and then walked her over to the penguin exhibit.

“Heard one of their eggs just hatched, and I want you to see it.” He said, swinging their hands between them.

“Really?” She asked, her features lifted with excitement. “Well then let’s go!” Y/n ran ahead of him, looking back at him and pulling at his arm. Laughing, they swerved around people and ran past the large tank that represented the reef ecosystem, blue light from the sun that streamed through the top of the tank dancing on their skin like shadows. It was a magical moment, even though they looked like weirdos. In their head they were in their own movie, their own world.

 “Jason, honey? Is that you?” A woman in green cargo shorts and the customary blue shirts with the aquarium’s logo on the left breast called from the inside of the penguin expedition. She had raven black hair in a low bun, and red lipstick paired with a bright smile. She was feeding the animals from  two buckets on the edge of the pool where they were jumping in. 

“Hey, Janet!” Jason called out, waving from behind the glass barrier. “Long time no see, have you gotten younger?” 

She laughed and turned around, walking through an archway and disappearing from view. A male walked out, and smiled towards the couple, nodding once and turned his attention towards the penguins. He whistled once, and they all came to him, huddling around him expectantly.

Then he bent downwards and placed the back of his hand on the penguins tummy, pressing back and they waddled backwards. He did the same to four others, pressing them so they were in a straight line, and they stayed where he placed them. Janet came out then, with black objects in her arms. 

“What are they….” Y/n asked, confused as to what was going on because she had been to this aquarium several times and had never seen such things. “... doing?” 

Janet removed one of the items from her chest, and y/n could see that they were large letters. A ‘P’ which she placed at the feet of the first penguin. ‘R’ on the one following. They rested against their bellies, and after an initial peck at it, they left it alone and watched their keepers expectantly, presumably for food. ‘O’ followed, then ‘M’. And as the question mark was being laid on the last penguin, Jason turned to watch his girlfriend’s face, waiting for the realization to hit. It didn’t take very long.

“Oh my gosh, Jason, look! Look it spells prom!” She pointed at it excitedly, a smile from ear to ear as she looked on at the animals, amused by their antics. She looked over at him to share her glee, and found him watching her with a dreamy smirk. “Look at the animals! Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Will you go to prom with me?” 

Y/n’s jaw dropped, the full realization hitting her. This had been planned, more specifically, Jason had planned this. “You did this?” She asked. Looking back and then at him again as he nodded slowly, still waiting for an answer. She stood there for a moment, stunned, and after a blink she jumped into his arms. “Yes! Yes! Yes, I want to go to prom with you!” 

He didn’t waste any time in wrapping his hands around her waist and twirling her around, laughing. Kissing her cheek, he set her to her feet and she was watching him with bleary eyes, a pout on her lips. “You did this for me?” 

“Technically, my mom did, but yes. Had her call in for me. Did you like it?” He put his hands in the pocket of his bomber jacket, his lips puckered as he tried to conceal a proud smile. 

“I love it, so much, Jason I-” She’s left speechless, and she glances up at the animals again, where Janet and the other keep were throwing fish at them. “Thank you.” The tips of her fingers came to cover her mouth, tears of joy threatening to slip. 

“Don’t cry, dovie. You weren’t supposed to cry,” he cooed, slipping his hands out again to wipe at the tears that fell down her cheeks.

“Shut up and kiss me,” Leaning up on her tip-toes, y/n abruptly yanked at his jacket, and crushed their lips together. 

“There we go! Your mother would love this!” Janet whooped, and her cheers caused the couple to split from each other with red faces, laughs covering their embarrassment. 

“Hush up, and let me kiss my girl will ya?” Jason pointed a finger at her and pretended to scowl. “We’re leaving to somewhere where we can smooch in peace!” Nearby people laughed at his jokes.

“Bye, sweetie! Tell your mother I said hello!” She waved goodbye, and returned her attention to the penguins at her feet. 

Y/n waved a goodbye along with Jason, yelling a ‘thank you’ as she walked away. Her brain was still trying to process what had happened when they turned the corner and walked into the new exhibit of the darker layers of the ocean. A long, winding hallway where the only light was the glow coming from the bio-luminescence animals in the water. 

An influx of serotonin swimming through her veins, squeals leaving her where she noticed where they were. 

“The jellyfish!” She left Jason’s side to stand in front of the large glass. An abundant amount of jellyfish bobbed up and around each other at slow, hypnotizing speeds. Glowing, long tentacles swaying in their trail; networks of veiny light streams present in each of them. The blue hue reflecting off of her skin, and onto the pane where it showed her amazed reflection.

“They’re beautiful,” she mumbled. Jason caught up, and stood besides her, his figure also appearing on the glass pane that held the jellyfish. “I could watch them all day.” 

His eyes drifted from the jellyfish to her side profile, admiring how ethereal she looked in that moment. Her face was soft with curiosity and wonder. “Me too.”

“You’re not even looking at them.” She gives him a side-eye glance. 

“I know.” He turned so his feet pointed to her, and combed his hair back because a few curls were tickling his forehead. “Can’t believe I’m gonna have the prettiest girl as my prom date.” 

Y/n’s nostrils flared and she sucked in her lips to suppress a smile. “Stop it.”

“S’true. Everyone’s gonna be so jealous of me.” He sucked in a breath, “Gonna have to hold on to you so no one steals you from me.” 

She knows he means every word that leaves his lips. And that the words are meant to tickle her heart with their honesty. While they do so, they also break it. Y/n thinks she’s living a lie. Not her relationship with him, but the way she acts and portrays herself. So much of herself, she kept hidden. It hurt knowing that he was being so genuine, and she wasn’t. It hurt more than knowing he could break up with her if he knew the truth. 

So, she decided to come clean. Even though they decided on the end of the day, her conscience wasn’t letting her live. 

“Jason, I have something to tell you.” She said, her throat closing up on the second syllable of his name, and crying by the end of her sentence. 

The boy brings his palm to her lower back, and moves his thumb up and down comfortingly. “Deep breaths, y/n. I’m listening.” 

“That boy?” She tilts her chin so she’s looking at him, and he nods when they make eye contact. “From the cafe? I knew him from a party.” Deep breath. “We were playing truth or-” a sob leaves her, shoulders sagging as her composure breaks. 

Jason raises his hand from her back to her shoulder, and steps closer so she’s pressed against his chest. “It’s okay. I’m right here, baby. I’m not leaving you. Take your time.” 

It would’ve been a lot more embarrassing if people were passing, but they were the only ones there. Had there been someone, they would’ve seen a terribly emotional y/n and a very concerned Jason. 

A creeping feel of panic like the one from that night teased her toes, anxiety of her confession crawling up her spine. But she had to push through. She needed to get this off her chest. 

“We were playing truth or dare, and… and I got dared t-to suck him off in front of everyone else,” another hiccup interrupts her words, and she had to stop to take a deep breath like Jason said, giving him an ashamed, fleeting glance.  Not long enough to see that his eyes were wide with astonishment, eyebrows furrowed with bubbling rage.

“What?” He said, more on the rhetorical side to encourage her to keep talking. His mind kept jumping back to the guy at the cafe and the way he said ‘there wasn’t anything in your mouth, babe’ with a knowing look in his eyes. How he practically violated her with his eyes. Rage filled him; all he wanted to do was punch the guy in the face. 

Anger made itself present in his stunned comment, and y/n took it as a disgusted comment. She jumped to explain herself, “I didn’t want to do it! I swear I didn’t put they started calling me names, a-and I didn’t want them to be upset with me so I-” another collapse of her words, chest rising and falling with desperate breaths. The panis increased, rising up to her chest and gripping like a boa. 

Jason knew that she needed reassurance on that moment and said, “Sh, sh Dovie, deep breaths. It’s alright, I know you didn’t, my dove. That’s called peer pressure.” 

It was clear that this was something she struggled with for a long time, and it hurt him so much inside that he had so blindly lived in the presence of her pain. Held her, touched her, and never noticed that she was so deeply in pain. The anger in him became a mix of bitter remorse at the fact that he had done nothing to push at her, or present himself in a way that showed she could trust him. He was unaware he was crying too until his own vision became blurry with moisture. 

“I left right after he… after he…. Because the other boys started touching me, too. That was when you found me under that tree. Remember?” Shiny doe eyes glimmered with the light that came off the jellyfish at him. They seemed to beg him for forgiveness, for understanding that she was sorry.

“Yes, sweetheart I remember.” Soft fingers crawl up her cheek, caressing like silk at the tears that still fell. Kisses were littered in her temple with strong pressure, a display of his comfort. “Oh, I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, baby. It’s not your fault.” 

“I should have said no. I should’ve l-left or something…”

“No. No, y/n this wasn’t your fault. This wasn’t on you. You were under pressure, and they were bullying you as well… Oh my god, baby, this- You don’t want to tell authorities?” 

“No! No, no, Jason I can’t l-let anyone find out I did…” Her eyes shut with distaste, “That. Please, don’t tell anyone.” 

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” He nods.

“Do you still want me?” Her cross, and her nails dig into her arms. Y/n bowed her head and sniffled. Jason took note of this, and pried her hands off so she wouldn’t bleed. His heart clenched at the tone of desperation in her voice. It hurt him to even think that he’d leave her so easily, and his words came out more emotionally tainted than he would’ve wanted.

“Y/n look at me.” His hand cupped her cheek, and the other held both of her wrists. She wrapped her hands around his wrists and squeezed him tightly. “I’m not leaving you. Can’t you understand that I love you, baby? I’m not leaving you, not now.”

“God, Jason. I don’t deserve you.” Y/n leans into his touch, sniffling.

“No, dovie. You’ve got that all twisted. It’s me who doesn’t deserve you.  You’re so good to me, so kind, and sweet,and I’m so so sorry thing happened to you. But it’s gonna be okay, yeah? We can work through this, I’ll be there by our side. I won’t leave.” The boy followed after her eyes, wanting to maintain eye contact with her, but she was shifty with her gaze. He wanted to be able for her to see-- in his eyes-- that he meant every word.

“I love you.” Y/n jumped into his chest and wrapped her hands around his neck, happy to be free of guilt, and blissfully happy that she had Jason. That he loved her, and she was able to tell him that she loved him.

After a moment of just standing in each other’s arms, head’s buried in each other’s neck with Jason muttering into her ear just how much she meant to him, they stepped back  to look at the other, and y/n laughed halfheartedly, wiping at her eyes and underneath her nose. Quiet ‘thank you’s were exchanged and they took one last good look at the jellyfish in silence. Y/n suggested they go home, and Jason said he wanted to stop by the gift shop first. Something about how how he needed a polar bear to hold onto at night.

In reality, he bought her the sea otter she wouldn’t stop petting, and a key chain with the date engraved on it. He didn’t give these to her until they were in front of her house, and he reached into the bag behind her seat.

“These are for you.” He said, placing the stuffy on her lap, and the key chain on her open palm. “A memoir. The first time we said I love you... among other things.” 

His tone was serious, mouth set in a grim line, but y/n was smiling.

“I knew something was up when you told me to wait outside. Thank you.” Leaning over the console, they both met each other halfway, and kissed each other goodbye. At the first taste of her lips, he removed his hands from the steering wheel in favor of having them on her face, holding her too him a few seconds longer than she usually would have let herself stay kissing.

“You’re welcome, dovie. I love you.” He said, pecking her lips once more, and then her nose, making her laugh through her nose. “I’ll see you tomorrow, but I’ll call you tonight. Yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you, too.” She opened the door, and waved once more at her boyfriend who smiled at her from inside the car.

Y/n was slightly upset over he fact that he hadn’t gotten out to walk her up the steps, and in any other situation, he would’ve. But out of his eagerness, Jason waited until she was inside, and lifted his hips to get his phone out of his pocket, calling the one person he knew would have his back if he wanted to set things straight.

It rang three times before he picked up.

“Andrew. It’s an emergency. Come over to my house tonight. Don’t let anyone see you leave.”

[awenvs3000w21]

Focus on the little sounds around you

The Earth is a basin that holds mysteries and beauty all around. Music is a profound result of the earth and it can be heard and seen all around. Even if you don’t think you particularly enjoy music or feel connected to music, you would be surprised what you can learn. Even the crashing sound of foamy blue waves hitting a sandy shore, or wind penetrating between branches and leaves, twigs snapping, animals burrowing, birds singing can all be considered music. According to (Krause et al, 2001) every known human culture has music. Music is defined as patterns of sound differing in pitch and time made for emotional, social, cultural and cognitive purposes.

GIF by: Skull-heads

I think music is beautiful and a way for not only humans to communicate and express themselves but also other species. While doing research for my podcast on bees I came across a cute waggle dance honeybees do to communicate and convey messages (Flow Hive, 2019). I think it's amazing that even species as small as bees have their own way to communicate through song and dance which has evolved and stayed like this for centuries.

Waggle dancing honey bee! [Video file]. (2019, January 13). Retrieved March 06, 2021, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOZrNs22FAU

Another animal that comes to mind when I think of singing, is a bird. Birds use the song, call notes and behaviour to communicate, attract mates, warn of predators and more. I use to hate the sound of birds chirping in the morning, but when visiting cities with lots of construction in the morning I much rather have the birds! Music is all around us in nature and the more I take in the little things the more I realize the beauty around me. I want to continue to protect and be a steward of the earth to preserve its natural songs and beauty.

Retrieved from: https://www.lyricbirdfood.com/birding-hub/behavior/why-do-birds-sing-in-the-winter/

A song that immediately takes me back to road trips following a summer hike, a day trip to the beach, or just a sunset drive is actually my favourite John Denver song "Take me home country roads".

This classic always was played after a long day out in nature and let me reminisce about what I experienced that day on my way home. I live around a lot of agricultural lands and open space so outside is especially beautiful around sunset when I am finally driving back from my adventure. Because of COVID, I haven't listened to this song a lot as I have been staying home not able to do these fun things. It has almost been 1 year since this began the day after my birthday! It's hard to believe it'll be my birthday again this Thursday. I listened to the song as I was writing this and it took me back to all the times spent with friends and family and how much I want to go back to normal life. Music can be so powerful and can be heard all around us if you really pay attention. Songs can also let us reflect back to experiences we had in life and also connect us to those around.

Photo taken by me last spring on a hike. April 12th 2020.

Gray, P. Krause, B. Atema, J., Payne, R., Krumhansl, C. & Baptista, L. (2001). The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music. Science. 291. 52-54.

Waggle dancing honey bee! [Video file]. (2019, January 13). Retrieved March 06, 2021, from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LOZrNs22FAU

[paperpenz]

[ Moments in Time ]

A short story I did back when I took creative writing classes. I’ve edited and made some minor changes since then.

Hope yall enjoy this small read !

-

Songs to listen to as you read:

1.  데려가줘 | TAKE ME by GIFT

2. Someday, The Boy by Kim Feel

3. Still Fighting It by Lee Chan Sol

-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The gentle beating of the heart monitor echoed through my cells and bones, as my consciousness slowly seeped back in, causing me to stir awake.

My eyelids, heavy with drugs, fluttered open as the constant shuffling of feet filled the large white room, my home for the past 3 years. The smell of alcohol and disinfectant still dancing around my nose like bees in spring, groggy, I felt a weight on my arm. Staring down at the white bandages wrapped neatly around my arm, confusion filled me. Then, slowly images filled my mind …

A little boy’s cry of dismay…

A balloon snagged on a tree trunk…

My hand, inching towards the balloon…

A heart-wrenching snap beneath me…

A sharp pain…

Blackness

 “I see that you’re awake now.” A calm and deep voice broke through my thoughts.

 “You had a bad fall. Thankfully, you didn’t sustain any major injuries except for a broken arm, which would heal soon enough, if you don’t strain it too much. Now Grace, mind explaining to me how you, a perfectly sensible soon-to-be 18-year-old young lady, would be doing on a tree?” His calm voice now laced with worry and concern.

 “I wanted to help the poor boy retrieve his balloon?” I smiled sheepishly at the man in white –Dr Raymond, Ray for short chided.

 “You need to be more careful Grace. You can’t afford to injure yourself.” He said while jotting down the readings of different monitors and scribbled them down, all part of the routine.

 “Looks like your readings are normal. I’ll come back later in the evening to check on you again. Please stay out of trouble and within the hospital vicinity.”

I simply nodded, but we both know that it’s simply not possible.

The moment his footsteps were out of hearing range, I slipped on my slippers, slowly draped my cardigan over my shoulders, grabbed a pen and a piece of paper hidden under my pillow and snuck out to a straight cemented path behind the hospital. It led to a single willow tree perched on top of a small hill. Tugging my cardigan tighter around me as the wind kissed my already rosy cheeks, I hastened my pace along the path I knew all too well before they realised I was missing.

Rumour had it that before the hospital was built; a young lady born into a rich family was to be wed to a suitor of her father’s choice. However, the young lady already had someone in her heart, a young lad, born to serve her family. They were madly in love but not only did her father disapprove of their relationship, but the young lad was called away to serve their nation in times of war. Heart-broken, they pledged their love under the tree and the young lad swore to return for her. Unfortunately, fate wasn’t kind towards them. The young lad had perished during battle and when the young lady heard the news, she was grief-stricken. She made her way back to the old tree where they once pledged their love and decided to join him in the afterlife, for life without the young lad was already a death sentence. Ever since then, people claimed that they would sometimes hear soft wails in the middle of the day… Or so they said.

I’ve always had a thing for tragic love stories; maybe that’s why I was attracted to this looming, hollow, arched tree that I now call Fingers –due to her overhanging, tear-drop like leaves, gracefully dancing along with the wind. Her arched branches tower over me, resembling a mother’s hand –protecting me from the harshness of the sun. With her I felt safe, she was my refuge. I would write to her each day, leaving my notes in her hollow trunk –the perfect hiding place.

However, 2 years ago my notes were replaced with an unfamiliar one –a reply. Clearly somebody had found my notes and not only decided to read it, but to respond to it and even had the audacity to sign off. Anger and embarrassment stirred within me, I felt exposed, naked but above all curious. Out of curiosity, I decided to respond to this so-called “J”.

Eventually, exchanging letters became our way of communicating.

He –yes, I managed to establish that “J” was a ‘he’, understood me in a way nobody could. We talked about all sorts of things, from his noisy drummer neighbour, Mark, to picturing the perfect vacation, to even describing how our days went.

The only thing is; he doesn’t know that I’m a girl with an expiry date. He thinks, or how I led him to think that “Grace” is an average soon-to-be 18-year-old girl. And I intend to keep it as such.

Slouching by her slender trunk, Finger’s leaves rustled as I jotted down my ‘little adventure”. Ever since we exchanged our letters, it became my way of picturing life as a normal teenager, doing what every other girl should be doing. It helped me forget that I’m not what people considered to be ‘normal’.

“Today, I saved a little boy’s balloon that was stuck on a tree branch. The poor boy cried really badly, I felt bad for him and decided to retrieve it. Although I can’t say that I left unscathed. I broke my arm in the process, but thankfully it wasn’t my dominant hand. School was boring, as usual, the same old class, teachers and tests. Hopefully school has been better for you.

-G”

But of course, “going to school, taking tests and complaining about teachers” were only half-truths. Signing off, I dropped my note into Finger’s hollow trunk and headed back.

 “You look better than when I first saw you earlier in the day. Something interesting happened that you would like to share with your Doctor-in-charge?” Dr Ray asked playfully. Dr Ray found out about “J” by accident one day, but never once did he mention “J” to anyone else.

 “Has it got to do with that secret lover of yours?”

 “Firstly, yes. And secondly, “J” isn’t my lover of any sort. He’s just a good friend that I have never formally met and besides he thinks I’m a normal girl enjoying her life.”

 “Be careful, for all you know he might be just some creep preying on unsuspecting young girls such as yourself.”

 “Yes, ‘mum’.” Rolling my eyes at his comment.

 “I know “J” isn’t some sort of creep, even if he were to ask to meet up, I don’t think I have the courage to let him see me –the real me, ‘the girl who probably won’t be able to live past-’”

 “What’s wrong?” I asked upon seeing Dr Ray’s brows frowned in confusion.

 “Well, this can’t be right” The way Dr Ray rubbed his chin unleashed waves of uneasiness in my heart. “It’s probably nothing, don’t worry about it and get a good night’s rest. I’ll check up on you tomorrow morning.” Before I could ask any further, he disappeared into the never-ending corridors, leaving me with my raging thoughts.

It’s probably nothing like he said; you’re overthinking again Grace. I assured myself before dozing off to the endless possibilities of becoming healthy once more.

Or so I hoped…

Sitting under Fingers luscious thick leaves, my hands tightly clutched “J”’s letter unable to process what Dr Ray had just explained to me.

What am I going to tell “J”? I can’t simply tell him, “Oh hey just so you know everything about me attending school was a big fat lie and I won’t be able to write anymore, cause apparently my time got cut short. Looks like I won’t even make it past to see my 18th birthday since the cancer cells are growing at a ridiculously fast pace. Thanks for everything up till now’.

I simply can’t tell him that. What would he think of me?

Tears clouded my eyes when I remembered the piece of paper that was now crumbled in my hand.

“On behalf of the boy that you risked your arm for, I thank you. No really, you are a hero.

School’s been the same old cycle, you wake up, go to school, hear teachers preach about their subjects and soon you’re home again doing the same old homework. Thankfully, I had good old Mark and his drums to accompany me through the night; I swear I could hear him even in my dreams. Do you think they’ll notice if he goes missing?

On another note, I respect not knowing each other’s identities, but I do want to meet this amazing person behind these letters if that’s okay with you.

-J”

He wants to meet me. “J” wants to actually meet me, the girl whose time got cut short. He wants to meet the “normal teenage” Grace, but nothing about me is normal, especially when your due date is almost up. Why can’t I be like every other teenager? Why of all things did I contract leukaemia, why can’t it be some other curable disease? Is that too much to ask? Biting my lip, I let the tears fall.

Letting it all out sure did feel good, but the problem remains unchanged. “What am I going to tell “J”, Fingers? Should I tell him the truth? Should I even meet him since I wouldn’t live any longer? Gosh, why is it so difficult? I guess after writing this letter, I have to say goodbye to you too huh Fingers.”

Feeling her rough woody bark under my fingertips for the last time, I began crafting my final letter.

“Mark definitely deserves the Best Neighbour Award of all time (note the sarcasm). Jokes aside, I have something to tell you. I do want to meet you, really, I do… But I’ll be going on a trip soon and I’m not sure when I’ll be leaving or when I’ll be back. Before leaving, I want to let you know that you are a special existence to me and our time writing was surreal, unfortunately, it’s time to say goodbye to those days. Thank You for everything.

-G”

Every word penned down on that piece of paper took a piece of my heart with it. I figured that this was the best decision for us, I guess mostly for me. I couldn’t bear the thought of meeting him only to leave him soon after. It’ll be too painful. I didn’t go back to see Fingers, neither did I return to see his reply.

And just like that, 2 months passed. I spent most of my time in the hospital, going through tests which honestly, I don’t see any point for, considering that I’ll be gone soon. Not seeing Fingers and not being able to write to “J” killed something inside me. I guess I was already dead before I knew it.

 “Grace, you have a visitor.”

Turning my attention away from the window, my pale blue eyes met a pair of hazel eyes that belonged to a lanky boy dressed in a plaid shirt with brown pants, and a chocolate-coloured hair that was slightly covered up by his grey beanie. “Grace, this is Jack, my younger brother.” Dr Ray introduced. “Apparently he has something that he wants to tell you; I’ll leave you two to chat. I’ll be back in the evening to check on you again.”

 “Hey”

 “Hey”

 “Well, it’s nice to finally be able to talk to you live, and not through a pen and paper, G”

That’s when it clicked. Jack is “J”. And “J” is standing in front of me. He –the boy who made me forget that I was ever sick, is standing right in front of me. He found me and he knows me –the real me.

Suddenly, I felt self-conscious, with the way his gentle eyes met mine, how his cheeks flushed to form a slight pinkish shade and the way he rubbed his neck sheepishly. While my eyes seemed hollow and cheeks drained of any sort of colour.

 “But… But how? How did you know that I was here and not someplace far away?”

 “Well, it’s sort of a long story. I knew that you’ve been living in the hospital 3 years ago since I’m a frequent here, poor immune system and all that. You intrigued me, a girl that found out she contracted leukaemia 3 years ago was filled with so much spirit and life. It was pure coincidence that I discovered the notes that you left inside Finger’s trunk, I also figured you didn’t want me to know about the whole hospital thing, so I kinda left it as that. After reading your letter, I knew something was up and I may or may not have asked my brother subtly about your condition. And I may or may not have also begged him to let me finally meet you.” He grinned, his cheeks forming a small dimple.

Having him by my side was no easy decision; but somehow, he managed to convince me. Since then he visited me each day without fail, telling me stories of his hopes and dreams, just like he did in those letters. He silently supported me, giving my hand a little squeeze each time I went through the tests.

When I was bored of being cooped up in the room, we would sneak out of the room to race each other to the hill, lying on the grassy patch, gazing at the endless array of stars in the night sky. Eventually, my body became too weak and I no longer had the energy to walk, let alone stand. Even so, Jack still stayed beside me.

Whenever the pain felt unbearable, he would hold me close, patting my back as he whispered words of assurance and comfort. The room was always filled with life and laughter. Every moment spent with him was truly more than I could ever ask for. I loved him wholeheartedly and I knew that Jack did too.

Soon, my time was coming to an end and we both knew it.

 “Jack, I have a request. I want to see Fingers one last time.”

Pushing my wheelchair up the hill was no easy feat but he still did it nonetheless. Waves of nostalgia consumed me, memories of us writing to each other were now far behind us. Leaning against his shoulder, I felt safe and protected like I once did. His fingers interlaced with mine, like two fitted pieces of a puzzle –his hands fitted to mine. Breathing in the cool evening breeze, we sat in silence, but our thoughts roared like lions.

Taking one last glimpse of the fiery sun slipping beneath the clouds, I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of the world in the palm of my hand, and the earth beneath me. Memories of the days spent together replayed in my head.

Leaning on his shoulder, I felt safe. 

I whispered a word of thanks before drifting off into an endless dream, awaiting the day where we would share more moments in time together. And maybe this time, I would be normal once more.

-

I left the ending open-ended so it’s up to yall to guess what happens to her in the end. Does she simply fall asleep? Or has she passed on? The ending is up to your very own interpretation!

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this small read :)

[iwritesometimes]

filigods replied to your post

“thank you to the gorgeous @wordssometimesfail for tagging me in a get...”

s o n g r e c s

so THANKS (much belatedly for tolerating my fucking out of control need to word vomit about music at literally all hours of the day and night; forcing others to listen to songs i like is literally one of the few joys that makes life worth living. also, idk if this was intended in a “hey cool, song recs” way or a “hey, yeah, link me those songs” way, but @filigods, BABY YOU’RE GETTIN THOSE LINKS and also more because i am insufferable.

below the cut: links to just Some Music What I Think Is Cool, organized...pretty dubiously, but an attempt will be made. also, now and at all times, anyone who feels so inclined should always link me to music they’re liking right now or that they loved in the past or that they think is just the bee’s knees...anytime. ANYTIME.

okay so the songs i mentioned the other day are all in here, but i wanted to organize it a bit more than just a random grab bag to give you some direction so that you know what you might be into, if you’ve never heard of some of these (my music taste isn’t all that niche but i’ve gone through a lot of phases in my life XD). particular “omg please listen to this before you die” faves will be in italics.

best of pop/pop rock

stuff by Keane, My Fave Band:

“Crystal Ball”

“Won’t Be Broken”

“Sovereign Light Cafe”

“Bedshaped”

“My Shadow”

stuff by Tokio Hotel, my first RPF subjects

“Übers Ende der Welt”

“Spring nicht”

“Wo sind eure Hände”

stuff by Elliot Minor, classically trained and sadly disbanded

“Parallel Worlds”

“The White One Is Evil”

“The Broken Minor”

“Solaris”

“Shiver”

“Electric High”

stuff by Dino Merlin, Bosnia’s Elton John

“Zid”

“Sarajevo”

“Majka Ruži Kćer”

“Heroes of Earth” by Wang Leehom (listen to more of his stuff - he’s insanely talented and has albums in several different genres)

“Sun Goes Down” by David Jordan

stuff by Gorillaz, you’ve definitely heard them but may not have heard these

“Stylo”

“November Has Come”

“Feel Good Inc.”

“Broken”

“Busted and Blue”

“Du erinnerst mich an Liebe” by Ich + Ich

stuff by Josh Groban, HE’S GOOD ADMIT IT TO YOURSELVES

“Never Let Go”

“Remember When it Rained”

“You Are Loved”

“Weeping”

“Tigerlily” by La Roux (whole album’s great, but this one’s gayyyy)

“Grace Kelly” and “Origin of Love” by Mika

“Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk” by Rufus Wainwright

“Make This Go On Forever” and “Set the Fire to the Third Bar” by Snow Patrol

stuff by Owl City, the fluffiest synthpop to ever make me happy

“Fireflies”

“Swimming in Miami”

“Meteor Shower”

“Strawberry Avalanche”

“Running Up That Hill” by Placebo covering Kate Bush

“Velvet Sky” by Los Lonely Boys

“Chasing the Sun” and “Satellite Call” and “Eden” by Sara Bareilles (WHOLE ALBUM!!!)

“Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer

“Sad Clown” by Jars of Clay

stuff by Michael W. Smith, i can’t help i was raised on CCM please forgive me

“Cross of Gold”

“Lamu”

“Secret Ambition”

“Breathe in Me”

“Love Me Good”

“Faith My Eyes” and “High Countries” by Caedmon’s Call

stuff by Daft Punk, FUCKING SUPERB YOU FUNKY LITTLE ROBOTS (listen to all of Discovery and Random Access Memories!!)

“One More Time”

“Aerodynamic”

“Give Life Back to Music”

“Technologic”

“These Dreams” by Heart

“Even Rats” by The Slip

“To Build a Home” by The Cinematic Orchestra

“Mandolin Rain” and “The Way It Is” by Bruce Hornsby and the Range

“I’m Still Here” by John Rzeznik

“Ue o muite arukou” by Kyu Sakamoto

“Love Me Dead” by Ludo

“Just Communication” by Two-Mix (Soundcloud link because it’s not on YT?? however, this bitchin cover is!!)

“The Book of Love” by Peter Gabriel covering the Magnetic Fields

best of rock/rap rock

stuff by linkin park, baby’s first rock band (meteora and thousand suns, BEST albums)

“Forgotten”

“Somewhere I Belong”

“Breaking the Habit”

“Iridescent” (accidentally called this “The Radiance” in the op)

“The Messenger”

“Welcome Home” by Coheed and Cambria

“Televators” by The Mars Volta

“Isolation” and “Life Must Go On” by Alter Bridge

“Nemesis” by Arch Enemy

“Like a Stone” by Audioslave

“Lonely Boy” by The Black Keys

“In One Ear” and “Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked” by Cage the Elephant (whole album!!)

“Jordan” by Buckethead

“Paralyzer” by Finger Eleven

stuff by Gackt, j-rock boy of my dreams since 2003

“Mirror”

“Vanilla”

“Returner”

“Orenji no Taiyou” (with Hyde)

“Through the Night” by Masahiko Arimachi

“Magick” and “It’s Not Over Yet” by Klaxons

“Deliverance” and “In Mist She Was Standing” by Opeth

stuff by Panik, my good good german boys who just couldn’t make it work

“Revolution”

“Geht ab”

“Grau”

“Perfekt”

“Morgencafe”

“Bevor du gehst”

“Careless Whisper” by Seether covering Wham!

“Seasons” by The Veer Union

“Cold” by Static X

“Change (In the House of Flies)” by Deftones

“System” by Chester Bennington

“Whipping Boy” by Train

“Chevette” and “Some Kind of Zombie” by Audio Adrenaline

“Colossal” and “Witchcraft” by Wolfmother (whole album is great)

“Whiskey in the Jar” by Metallica and “Turn the Page” by Metallica covering Bob Seger

“Gravedigger” by Dave Matthews Band

“Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls

“Icky Thump” and “Blue Orchid” by The White Stripes

“Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry

“You Shook Me All Night Long” and “Big Balls” by AC/DC (there is NO CORRECT VERSION of Big Balls on YT...sorry for the spotify link)

best of choral (most of which i’ve sung so i’m biased)/instrumental/soundtrack

Lux Aeterna and “O Magnum Mysterium” by Morten Lauridsen

The True Story of Cinderella (i was the queen in this :3)

Knock Knock and indeed anything by P.D.Q. Bach

“i thank You God for most this amazing day” and “Lux Aurumque” by Eric Whitacre

“Magnificat” by Arvo Pärt

“Set Me as a Seal” by René Clausen

“Cloudsong” and “The Heart’s Cry” by Anúna

“You Are the New Day” by The King’s Singers covering Airwaves, aka, the greatest love song of all time

“Castle in the Mist” and “You Were There” by Michiru Oshima (voc. Steven Geraghty)

“Prologue” and “The Farthest Land” by Ko Otani (the whole soundtrack is sublime, please listen to it!!!)

“The Mighty Rio Grande” and “They Move on Tracks of Never-Ending Light” by This Will Destroy You

“On the Nature of Daylight” by Max Richter (also, there’s a great mashup of this with “This Bitter Earth” by Dinah Washington)

“To Zanarkand” by Nobuo Uematsu (obviously, listen to everything the man ever wrote, but ofc my fave is the FFX OST)

“More Streets” by Zpiderflower

“I Was Born for This” by Austin Wintory (from the stellar Journey OST)

“The Ballad of Fiedler and Mundt” by Disparition

“Sex (Daedalus Remix)” by Slugabed

Castlevania malarkey

Best of “Bloody Tears”: official 1, official 2, official 3, fanmix 4

Best of “Vampire Killer”: official 1, official 2, fanmix 3

Best of “Simon’s Theme”: official 1, official 2, fanmix 3, fanmix 4

Super Castlevania IV (PLEASE listen to the whole thing but my faves): “Forest of Monsters”, “The Submerged City”, “Clockwork Mansion 2″, “The Library”, “Dracula Battle”, “Ending”

Castlevania: Symphony of the Night (ditto above): “Dance of Illusions”, “Dracula’s Castle”, “Marble Gallery”, “Lost Painting”, “Dance of Pales”, “Wandering Ghosts”, “Final Toccata”

“Clotho”, “Atropos”, and “Lathesis” from the Columns OST

Zelda shenanigans

“Title Theme (Wind Waker)”

“Dragon Roost Island”

“The Great Sea”

“Main Theme (Breath of the Wild)”

“Riding (Day)”

“Riding (Night)”

“Stables”

“Kakariko Village”

“Rito Village (Day)”

“Tarrey Town”

“Maze Forest”

“Hyrule Castle” and “Hyrule Castle Interior”

okay i gotta quit - i’ve had this tab open for like a week and a half now and i just keep adding stuff. this is enough to get anybody started. i hope y’all find something you like. :)

[funkymeihem-fiction]

Strange Honey- Chapter 4

She spread out the drawings and notes across her bed. After making a quick get-away from the attic, sending the door crashing shut again only moments before Mr. Rutledge’s shower had turned off, she had sequestered herself in her room. And this time, she locked her door. Not that he had ever tried to barge in on her before. She’d only ever even seen him upstairs once, to help her carry her bags into her room and that was all.

But she shut the door and she turned the lock, to be sure that it was just her and the bee…and the one who seemed to be in charge of the bee. Wherever he might have been. Whatever he might have been.

He had led her to childhood drawings that must have been well over forty years old, judging by Mr. Rutledge’s age. But the scarecrow had drawn itself in the exact same way earlier that morning. Was it very old? Perhaps the scarecrow, or whatever was possessing the scarecrow, didn’t age? What was his relationship to the young Mako?

She had so many questions that for an embarrassingly long time, she didn’t even realize that she had a source of answers right there in the room with her. Her thoughts were buzzing in her brain so loudly that it took her several minutes to notice that the bee was buzzing in circles atop her quilt and trying to get her attention.

Blinking, she adjusted her glasses and looked down at it as it began to shuffle in little circles around the drawings that the scarecrow had made earlier that morning. She eyed it for a moment before biting her lip, casting a fretful glance at the door and keeping her voice low. “Jamie? Is that you? Right now? Are you Jamie?”

The bee wiggled its striped behind and shuffled about in a circle, clockwise. Of course. It was dancing. Bees communicated with their hivemates by dancing. They had their very own language. Some of her studies claimed that their dances had even been crudely translated; to things like flower types and directions and how much food was left in them. But Mei was less concerned with the matters of the bees themselves, than with who was controlling this particular specimen.

“Okay. If it’s you, turn clockwise for yes, and counter-clockwise for no. Can you understand me, Jamie?”

The bee shimmied clockwise. Yes.

She held up Mako’s drawing, tapping the aged yellow paper depicting him holding hands with the scarecrow. “Is this you? From years ago?”

Clockwise. Yes.

She wanted to ask how, but that was beyond the crude yes or no dances of insects. She needed to keep her questions as simple as possible. She thought for a moment, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she sat clutching her pillow to her chest. What to ask…?

“You must be very old, then. You were friends with Mr. Rutledge when he was a boy?”

Clockwise again. Yes.

“Are you…still friendly? With each other?”

The bee flickered its filmy wings and paused. But after a few moments, it spun about in the other direction. Counterclockwise. No.

Very gently, she reached down and placed her hand down upon her blankets, palm up. The bee clambered up her fingers and into her palm, and she cupped both hands together and laid them down in her lap, atop her pillow, looking down at the little insect. What a strange thing this was, to be quizzing a honeybee and having her questions reaching far and wide to wherever this Jamie was receiving them.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I wish I knew why. Maybe we can talk about that later. But…do you think we could be friends? You and I can be friendly, right?”

Clockwise several times. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Its tiny legs tickled against her.

She blinked down at it. “That’s very enthusiastic. I hope I’m not pestering you too much. But I just have so many questions. I’ve never really met a… I guess I don’t even really know what you are? But you’re not a human like me, are you?”

Counterclockwise. No.

Goosebumps rose along the back of her neck. Of course she’d known he wasn’t a person. There was no way he could have just been a normal man in a scarecrow costume. But hearing him confirm it…or rather, him magically communicating through insects to confirm it, it still made her feel a little strange. She had never been very spiritual, focusing instead on the various sciences. But this ‘Jamie’ had made himself known to be something else. Something beyond anything she had expected to encounter on this farm.

“Do you think you and I could talk more? I heard you talk a little before,” she said. “Maybe I could come see you again?”

The bee in her palms lifted both its front legs straight up as if in a silent cheer, and she had to stifle a grin, biting on her lower lip. As strange as this situation was, that was pretty cute. Very carefully, she lifted one finger and brought it towards her new insect friend, coming to a halt in front of it. The bee’s wings flickered once more, buzzing gently, before it lifted one tiny black leg and went to place it against her fingertip.

“I’ll take that as a yes. It’s nice to meet you, Jamie.”

The bee danced about in a circle on her palm once more. Yes. Yes. Yes.

“I’ll try to find a way to get back to your field and see you soon, okay? I’ll figure something out. If you’re shy, you don’t have to come out of your flowers. But maybe we can still talk? Will you be there?”

Clockwise again. Yes.

She smiled, cupping the bee carefully into one palm as she rose and stacked up the drawings and notes on her bed, maneuvering them into her notebook and setting them onto her dresser. It had gotten late during her little misadventures in the attic, and she couldn’t stay up all night trying to figure out yes or no questions for something like this. If she was able to get some rest, she might be able to meet him directly, and really get some answers.

Tossing her quilt aside as she did every night, she slipped in between the sheets. She tamped down the pillow next to hers, and gently placed her bee companion into the middle of it. It folded its brittle little legs, laying down, but somehow she felt it was still watching her. Plucking her glasses off and onto the nightstand, she flicked off the lamp and lay down, snuggling into her own pillow.

“Good night, Jamie,” she muttered aloud.

There was no answer, of course. Not that she could hear.

She lay there in the stifling dark of her bedroom, mind still fraught with curiosity and unanswered inquiries. She wondered if the bee was still awake too. She wondered if Jamie himself was still awake, somewhere. Was he out in his field of flowers? Did he sleep? Did he dream? Did he have questions for her too? What was Mr. Rutledge’s connection in all this? Was Jamie his real name? Did he have a real name? Would he let her study him? She wondered so many things that it was starting to become exhausting.

And eventually, as one does when exhausted, she fell asleep.

***

She was back in the field of sunflowers, strung out above it, with the sun beating down on her. It was hot. It was too hot, always too hot here. She tried to move her head, but it felt heavy and sluggish, and there was a sensation that she knew, despite her dream state, was supposed to be pain. Why was she in pain? The sunflowers could offer no help, their cheery yellow faces all turned towards her, watching her.

The buzzing was growing louder. That was starting to hurt too. Everything hurt. So she gave up, and let her head droop helplessly downward. Down below, past the leaves of the sunflowers, she saw that the soil was red instead of brown. She would have thought it strange, but everything was strange in a dream. Now if only that infernal buzzing would-

With a rather unelegant snort, she startled awake. She had been sleeping with her mouth open, and one side of her face was laying in a cold and sticky puddle of her own drool. Ugh. That was almost as unpleasant as the dream she had been having these past few days. Almost.

Wiping at her chin and cheek, she made a face and reached out for her glasses, her fingertips groping blindly until they hit the wire frames. Pulling them on, she sat up and stretched, moaning as her spine arched back before she let herself slump downward again. With drool still on her chin and her hair mussed, she didn’t exactly paint a pretty picture. Good thing there was nobody around but-

“Oh!” She blinked stupidly behind her glasses, twisting to look to her other pillow. “Good morning! I’m sorry, Jamie, I forgot all about-”

The bee was dead, curled onto its side with its legs shriveled and pulled in tight.

She inhaled sharply. “J-Jamie?!”

Lunging across her sheets, she stumbled to kneel before the pillow. Carefully, she went to scoop up the tiny insect. It was weightless in her palms, a husk. Biting down on her lower lip, she tried to keep from panicking. Had she done something wrong? Surely she hadn’t rolled over on it during the night? Had it died of exhaustion, hovering about her for so many hours with nothing to replenish it? She hoped this wasn’t a sign of distress from Jamie himself.

A light fell across her from the window, the early morning sunrise. And she realized that it had not been shining on her before, because something had been blocking the light. The shadow moved from her window, darting to the side, and was gone.

She sat stunned, one hand cupping around the little honeybee and holding it to her chest. Very cautiously, she slid out from under her sheets and tossed her legs out over the side of the bed, bare feet finding her slippers. Padding around towards the window, she saw something that gave her pause. A little glimpse of yellow near the glass panes.

Hurrying forward, she began pulling up strips of tape and wrenched out the nail that had been reinforcing the window shut. With a rattle, she heaved it open for the first time in days. Hot, sticky air swept over her, wet with evaporating dew that was steaming from the grass outside. She hadn’t realized just how cloying her bedroom had become, without fresh air. And it brought with it the early morning birdsong and the soft bleating of an impatient goat from outside on the farm.

And there, laying on her windowsill, was a sunflower. A single bloom, cheerful yellow petals surrounding the porous brown face, attached to a green stem that had been cleanly cut. One of his sunflowers.

Not like the flower that had blackened and rotted away when she had tried to take it by force, when she hadn’t known what they meant. This one stayed whole, even when she very carefully reached out and touched the tip of one green leaf. Picking it up and turning it about, an expression of smitten wonder on her face, she ran a finger along its petals and looked out across the rooftops once more. There was no sign of its owner. But he had to have been here. He had been with the little bee first, and then there in person…whatever ‘person’ was to him.

A tiny breeze ruffled her tangled hair as she looked out across the still-sleeping farm, squinting in the dim light. But after she was sure he was gone, she drew back inside, taking her flower with her. She left the window open.

She gently placed both her flower and the bee atop her desk. She would need to put it in water, maybe take some samples from it later. But the fact that it had been gifted to her, that he was speaking to her, and answering her? She was at a bit of a loss. She would need to make her way back to the field as soon as possible, with her recording gear and cameras and everything else. She had just made contact with something beyond any scientific discovery, possibly the first instance of…whatever this was.

And Mr. Rutledge had known of this since he had been a small boy, and had said nothing? Jamie had seemed hesitant before his answer that they were no longer friends. Had there been some kind of falling-out between them? This strange, otherworldly scarecrow monster and the quiet, solitary farmer? What a sad thing, for them to be so close by, but both seem so lonely.

Maybe she would ask Jamie about it. Maybe she would ask Mr. Rutledge about it too, although she doubted she would get much from him. She’d had about the same amount of conversation with the man as she had with a mind-controlled bee that could only answer yes or no. She probably would get more out of the bee, all things considered.

It was a long trek out to the fields and back, and she didn’t want to arouse suspicion yet. And even with her little plot with the increased trips into town, it would be a while before he needed to go out again. There was really only one thing for it. Something she’d only seen in movies, with rebellious teens that were nothing like her, because she’d been such a good girl.

She would need to sneak out.

***

She stood on one side of the fence, helping to stretch out a length of barbed wire while Mr. Rutledge measured and snipped, grumbling low under his breath. It was so baritone that it almost sounded like the pigs nearby, gurgling and grunting to themselves as they crowded around to watch them- clearly hoping that their presence meant food, as it usually did.

“…Don’t know how she keeps getting out. Patched all the holes, sunk the fence deep, reinforced the gate. Even the barbed wire isn’t stopping her.”

She watched as he strung another length of barbed wire horizontally across the fencing. “Has she always done this? Do they all try to get out, or is it just Winifred?”

“Mostly her. Always been an escape artist, since she was a piglet.”

“Did you raise them all yourself?”

“Mm.”

“I mean…all by yourself?” she asked. “Or did you have family or other students like me to help you?”

He paused for a moment, then resumed twisting the wire around the pole. “No. Just me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I was just wondering if I’m your first student assistant?”

That seemed to relax him a little. It seemed an innocent enough question. “No. You’re the first one.”

“Can I ask why?”

He shrugged, narrowly missing catching himself on the spiked wire and yanking his gloved fingers away. “Dunno. Getting on in years. Not as fast as I used to be. Man on the phone said you were quiet and responsible. And you have small hands. Good for getting in the hives.”

She squinted at him behind her glasses, trying to tell if that was a joke or not. It didn’t seem to be. “Well that’s…Um. Thanks?”

“Worried about your grade?”

“A little?”

“Books can’t teach you everything about a farm. Not even close. This-” He motioned to the pigs crowding around them. “-is more than agricultural studies in a classroom. This is more important than a mark on a paper.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Rutledge, I think my research is important too, and so is my grade so I can work towards that. Papers and studies have their place. What about you, did you attend college?”

“No. Home-schooled,” he replied gruffly.

“Oh?”

“Had to be.”

Mr. Rutledge seemed chattier than normal, which was hard to imagine. So she seized her chance, prodding at him for just a little more information, a few more pieces to the puzzle that was this farm. Clearing her throat, she unwound another length of barbed wire for him. “Can I ask if it was something religious? Or did your parents not agree with the local schooling policies?”

“Had to stay here on the farm. Can’t go too far. Have to stay here.”

“Well I mean, you don’t have to. If you need to leave, I’m very capable of holding things down until you get back. I mean, I’m not expecting you to take an impromptu beach holiday or anything.”

“Dunno. Never been to a beach.”

“Really?” She tilted her head, brows furrowing slowly. “Any beach? Or, maybe a lake? Or…Mr. Rutledge, have you…ever left this farm? Or gone beyond the town?”

“…No.”

She was going to ask why, but he lifted upward with a low grunt, wiping at his forehead and pulling off his gloves. “It’s Wednesday. Go start dinner while I finish up.”

There was something final to his tone, a ‘no arguments’ sort of way that he spoke. As though he knew she was going to ask more from him and was stopping it before it could start. He didn’t even look at her, starting to wind up the remainder of the barbed wire as the swine started to crowd around him, bullying her off to the side in a mass of dirty pink bodies.

At a loss, she carefully stepped over one of the smaller pigs and headed for the gate, brushing away the flies. That was going to be all she got out of the man, it seemed. But it had been…interesting. And unexpected.

Mr. Rutledge had never left the farm. It sounded like he hadn’t even ever crossed county lines. This man had been here literally all his life, and that must have been at least his late 40s, maybe early 50s. He had been here, in this one place, for nearly half a century. And once, he had been friends with the mysterious entity out in the fields. But at some point, he and Jamie had become…enemies? And now here they both were, still on this farm, and apparently still at odds.

Was he still here by choice? She knew such people existed, who staked a claim to their home and never left it. Farmers in particular, like him, could become so attached to their land that they simply no longer needed anything else. But…she could have sworn there had been an edge of resentment under his tone. Perhaps she had simply imagined it, with the man being so hard to read.

Closing the gate behind her, she returned to the house, washing up and heading into the kitchen to start their dinner. It was hard to focus on pan-frying and steaming when she had other things on her mind, of course. But Mr. Rutledge’s appetite matched his enormous physique, and she busied herself with adding more and more helpings of her tried and true Dandan noodles into a huge bowl that would probably have fed five other people- or one Mr. Rutledge and a modest portion for herself.

Waiting impatiently, she finally heard the door slam as he returned. Immediately, she scooped up her bowl and made a show of heading past him and up the stairs. “Sorry, I have a lot of work to do on some of my essays tonight. Do you mind if I eat in my room?”

He paused to watch her, looking strangely put out. Perhaps even a bit hurt or concerned, though again, it was always tough to tell. “Normally…we eat at the table…”

“I know, I’m really sorry. But I made you a lot and everything is all ready. I’m just going to camp out and eat and work for tonight, okay? I promise I’ll come wash out my bowl and make sure everything is tidy before bed, okay? They’re Dandan noodles, a little spicy, but I think you’ll like them? I know you like a little bit of heat but not too much, with extra sesame oil and…Okay! Good night! I mean, not good night, but, see you later good night!”

She was babbling by the end of it, retreating up the staircase the entire time and not letting the man get a man in edgewise. Not that he even tried, tilting his head up at her until she vanished into the room and shut the door behind her. She hoped she hadn’t been too suspicious. And she hadn’t expected him to actually seem a little hurt by her not eating with him. After all, that was how he had been eating for years, alone.

But she had other things to do, even if the excuse about the paper had just been another lie…well, a white lie, a very small one. She couldn’t think about that now.

Putting aside her bowl of noodles onto her dresser, instead she pulled on her backpack with her usual gear. It was a good thing that summer days were long. The long trek to get to the sunflowers meant that she wouldn’t have much time to speak to Jamie before she’d have to leave again, to get back before it got dark. But he had been contacting her directly, even leaving her gifts, he wanted to speak to her. Maybe she could even convince him to show himself.

The difficult part this time would be in actually getting to him. She still didn’t want Mr. Rutledge knowing that she was already knee-deep in this situation, not when there was still a very good chance that he might deny her her grade, or worse, kick her out before she had a chance to do anything more. And he was currently downstairs, guarding both of the exits.

But even though it might be a little dangerous, she had another idea. She’d seen it when she had been hanging out of her window earlier. A trellis, supporting a tangled web of ivy and morning glory, had been fastened to the back of the house. And it was a metal trellis, criss-crossing wires that had been sunk into the brick and wood with metal bolts. She’d tried to give it a tug from below, earlier when Mr. Rutledge had not been looking, and thought it might support her weight. Lucky, really. A wooden one would have been a death trap.

She paused only to lean over to the little husk of the dead bee, laying on a piece of folded tissue near the sunflower in its dusty vase. Careful not to disturb it with her breath, she whispered a little, “I’m on my way,” even if she wasn’t sure he could hear her or not.

Hoisting herself up and out of her bedroom window, she cautiously lifted herself onto bent knees and very, very carefully made her way across the farmhouse roof, picking her way across cracked or missing shingles and the tar paper beneath. Heights didn’t unduly bother her, but falling two and a half stories was not on her to-do list this evening. Still cautious, she traveled the short distance to the other wing of the house, towards the back.

There was the metal trellis, dotted with flowers. It…Well, it certainly looked like it was higher up than when she had been looking at it from the ground. And there was a gap between it and the roof. But, nothing for it. It was climb or jump. And she chose to climb, perilously hanging one leg down until her feet hit one of the wires. Gripping the edge of a drain pipe, she held her breath and lowered down all the way. Letting go of the drain pipe was a little harder, leaving her top half perilously tilting in the air until she was able to blindly grip the wire below her.

Now twisted up like a spider on the side of the house, she started the journey downward. It was not comfortable. Her cheek scraped the side of the house several times, and the metal wires felt more brittle when she was trying to put her weight on them.

Halfway down, to the first floor now. One of the wires was more brittle than the others, it seemed. As she put her foot down and was starting to move her other leg, it abruptly snapped in two. Her falling foot hit the wire under it, which snapped as well at the increased force, and then she was clawing at the ivy, dragging it down with her as she fell. With an accidental shriek, she went tumbling through the air, falling free of the wall altogether.

Her side hit one of the shrubs that had been planted in the mulch by the house. Contrary to their look, shrubs were the exact opposite of a comfy landing site. Instead of being soft, they were simply a mass of tiny leave and numerous small, spiky twigs. They snagged her shirt and her skin as she fell, and ripped open little scratches on her way to the ground. She landed on her back, and though the backpack cushioned her somewhat, the wind knocked out of her lungs.

For a moment she could only lay there, afraid that something had snapped or broken. Coughing to try and restart her breathing again, it was a minute or two before she tried to move. At least it had only been one story to fall, though she was now bleeding through her ripped t-shirt and would no doubt have a massive bruise for her troubles.

“O-ow…”

One of the goats across the yard, watching from their pen, bleated in what she could have sworn was laughter. Jerks.

Groaning and holding her ribs, she sat up and waited to see if Mr. Rutledge had heard her, maybe charge out after her to catch her in the act. But there was no slamming doors or scoldings coming her way, it seemed. No time to see if her fall had damaged any of her gear. With red trickling from her cuts, she hauled herself back to her feet and hurried off towards the fields.

***

The dying sunlight painted the world in hues of gold and pink and orange, so different from the yellow-blasted light of the hot day. But it was still dry, and the withering leaves of the crops rattled and hushed against one another as she moved between the rows. The pumpkins were still small, stunted from the weather. Some of them were rotting on the vine. The corn had suffered as well, brown and curled on the edges. Everything was dry and dusty and bathed in faded pastels…except for, again, the sunflowers.

Across the sweetgrass, they stood as tall and bright as ever. Around her, the cicadas were going silent one by one, replaced with the song of eager crickets. A few fireflies were starting to wink their lights off and on as they drifted across the little field, getting ready for the sun to fall. It would have been a stunning evening if she had not been bloodstained and sore.

But it would be worth it. Even if she didn’t have very long, she was here. Smiling a little despite herself, she straightened her glasses and trudged forward. And this time, she didn’t even have to wait. From out in the flowers, he was already on the move. The stalks rattled and clacked, the yellow blooms shaking as he cut a path through them, straight towards her.

She paused a small distance before she reached the edge of his sunflowers, and he paused as well. They sat across from each other, with her just out of reach and him still obscured by green and brown. Tangling her fingers together, she cleared her throat and suddenly felt a little foolish. For everything she had thought to ask him, she hadn’t really thought about how to actually greet him.

“Hi Jamie. I, um, I got your message,” she finally said, a little lamely. “I mean, messages. The flower. And the bee. I’m sorry about the bee, it died during the night.”

He moved within the stalks, getting closer.

“I guess I just have so many questions,” she continued. “I know your name is Jamie now, but there’s still a lot I don’t know. But I also don’t want to bother you or be rude. But I guess I was hoping that tonight I would finally get to talk to you in person. Now that I know you can talk too. Maybe we can answer each other’s questions? Maybe I can see you, too, if that’s not too much? I’ve only seen you in drawings.”

For a few moments there was silence, and then his voice. It was still as strange as the first time she had heard it. Its pitch went up and down, and there was an echoing and almost buzzing quality to it.

“You’re hurt…”

Blinking dumbly, she lifted her arm up to look down at her injured side. Sure enough, her blood had soaked in a rather gory-looking way into the white fabric of her shirt. “Oh! Oh, I’m okay! Really, it looks worse than it is. I fell and scratched myself up a bit, but I’m all right. You don’t need to worry.”

The sunflower stalks parted in front of her, a little deeper in. From the green and black, two yellow circles appeared. Unblinking sources of light, they lit up the bottoms of the flowers around him. Below his eyes, was the stitched and smiling mouth that she had seen from the drawings before. It was not the most comforting visage, especially as the night was falling and the path back to the house seemed longer than ever.

She swallowed down her nerves. “Oh! I see you a little bit now. H-hello in there.”

“Are you scared…?”

There was a strange little noise, droning and buzzing and hissing, like a nest of hornets had been disturbed and their bodies were scraping over something metallic. It wavered up and down, and after a moment she realized it was his laughter. He was chuckling at her. What an unnerving sound. She made herself take another deep breath.

“I guess I am. A little bit,” she answered.

The pair of eyes swerved to the side, as though he was tilting his head. He laughed again, as though the idea of her being scared was somehow amusing. She wasn’t sure what to think of that. Inside the flowers, his head tilted the other way.

“Hurt. And. Scared.”

“A little of both. I hurt myself falling. And people are afraid of what they don’t know. But I still came. I’m still here.”

That made him pause. He seemed to think her words over, and apparently he found some liking to them.

“Me too. Still…here.”

“Will you come out?”

Yet another pause. Hesitation. For a moment, she thought he might decline and stay hidden, as he had before. She couldn’t press the matter too much, no matter her curiosity. If he didn’t wish to be seen, then she would leave him be.

But the stalks parted, and the glowing yellow eyes moved forward. And then they began moving up, and up, and up. And she realized that he had been crouching before, lowered in some creeping hunch. He reared up to his full height, stepping forward, and she saw that he was even taller than the sunflowers themselves. One foot creaked forward, only it was not a foot- some makeshift limb that looked like it had been cobbled together from tractor pieces and wood. The joint popped and he sank his weight onto it, coming out of the green entirely.

Looming upright, he towered over the girl who stood frozen below. The glowing eyes turned out to be lenses, which clicked when they ‘blinked’, momentarily casting her into shadow. They were attached to what looked to be a burlap mask, a ragged slit that had been cut open and re-stitched as his mouth, though it did not move when he spoke, his voice emanating from the darkness inside it. Tufts of dry straw sprang from his head, rustling with every moment. Under his ragged overalls, his body seemed to be much the same, stitched together pieces- only they did not look to be burlap, more like flesh. She dared not move her gaze from his face to really look.

His other foot, a real foot, bare and bootless, landed beside his peg. He seemed to exhale, skinny chest growing and shrinking, and she was struck with the scent of sickly-sweet, rotting hay. Like the inside of an old barn, abandoned and left to molder, not at all like the flowers she had expected.

She didn’t move. Didn’t budge an inch. Like a deer in the headlights, she simply stood there, beholding the mysterious stranger from the sunflowers for the first time. This ‘Jamie’. He looked down at her, and she could swear his stitched-open grin widened a little.

“Hello. Mei.”

[eagle-eyez]

Eighth graders aren’t generally known as dictionary aficionados. But Dhroov Bharatia, 12, has a passion for language.

“Nothing can express an idea as effectively as a judicious use of words,” he said by phone from his home in Plano, Texas. This love of vocabulary has made him one of 11 finalists in this year’s Scripps National Spelling Bee, adding him to a long line of South Asian American middle and elementary schoolers who have excelled at the competition.

It’s a well-documented relationship. Since 2008, a South Asian American kid has been named a champion at every Scripps bee. This year, two-thirds of the semifinalists were of South Asian descent, and at least nine of the 11 finalists are of South Asian descent.

Over the past two decades, spelling bees tailored to South Asian children have proliferated. So have spelling bee coaching companies founded by South Asian Americans. Flyers for local bees are handed out at Indian supermarkets, and the activity is spread through word of mouth at temple events.

A 2020 documentary, Spelling the Dream, followed four Indian American children preparing for 2017’s bee season and showcased just how much it means to South Asian American families.

“It is definitely a source of pride from an educational standpoint,” said Shalini Shankar, an anthropologist and the author of Beeline: What Spelling Bees Reveal About Generation Z’s New Path to Success.

But it is also something more: The bee has become an occasion for unity within the South Asian American immigrant community, and it all goes back to a historic victory more than three decades ago.

In 1985, Balu Natarajan became the first child of immigrants to win Scripps, prompting an outpouring of support from people of South Asian descent. “Many people who I’d never even met felt a connection to it,” Natarajan said. “I had no idea how much one could be embraced by a community.”

He became a well-known name in Indian American households around the country, which he described as humbling. “People in our community really do pay attention when one of our own is able to have success in something,” he said.

“Today, we have children and families in our community that are center stage when they go to the Scripps spelling bee,” Natarajan said. “It’s really a place of comfort. But back in the ’80s, we were just exploring it. We really had no idea that we were doing this for a community. We were just this tiny fraction of the participants.”

Natarajan has the photos to prove it: When he first competed in the Scripps spelling bee in 1983, he remembers only six contestants of Indian descent out of 137 students. A few of them gathered to take a photograph, documenting a small moment of togetherness — a stark contrast to the playing field of today.

The Bee Is Back

Every year, about 11 million children in the United States participate in school-level spelling bees. The first Scripps National Bee was held in 1925; because of the pandemic, it was canceled last year for the first time since World War II.

The words have gotten progressively more difficult over the decades — mostly because the kids have gotten a lot better. “Therapy” was a winning word in 1940, but in 2019, two of the winning words were “bougainvillea” and “erysipelas.”

In 2019, Scripps named eight winners for the cup — “octochamps,” they coined themselves. Previously, only two kids had ever tied for the win. Seven of the 2019 champions were of Indian descent.

“It’s not spellers against spellers. It’s spellers against the dictionary,” Ashrita Gandhari, a current finalist, said about the sense of camaraderie and companionship among the contestants.

That doesn’t mean she’s not in it to win it. Ashrita, 14, is spending about 10 hours a day practicing, and has three coaches to help her prepare. But part of her love for the bee has to do with the incredible support she receives from her community.

“I live in Ashburn, Virginia, and let me tell you, a lot of people here are of South Asian descent,” she said. “So many people — all my friends, my neighborhood, my community — they’ve all been super supportive. We’ve had parties, they even filmed a congratulations video for me, baked me cakes.”

Indian Americans are one of the younger, newer groups of immigrants in the United States. More than 60 percent of Indian immigrants living in the United States today arrived after 2000. “That’s not the case for most other Asian populations, Chinese, Filipino, Korean,” said Sangay Mishra, an associate professor at Drew University and the author of Desis Divided: The Political Lives of South Asian Americans.

Indian immigrants did come to the United States in earlier waves, particularly in the wake of the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act and the family-based immigration that followed. But the implementation of the H-1B visa program in 1990, which allowed for the entry of specialised foreign workers, brought in Indian immigrants in much larger numbers.

In 2016 and 2017, Indians accounted for almost 75 percentof all H-1B visa holders in the United States. This “changed the character of the community, in terms of skewing it more professional and more highly educated,” Mishra said.

Parents looked for hobbies for their children that prioritised “all kinds of educational attainment,” Shankar said. Spelling as an extracurricular activity soon began to spread by word of mouth. “They tell their broader ethnic community about it, and they bring each other to these South Asian spelling games, which are really accessible and held in areas where there’s a large concentration of South Asian Americans,” she said.

The hobby is also passed down — within families — to younger siblings and cousins. (“If the older sibling did it, the younger one often follows,” Shankar said.) That was the case for the 2016 Scripps champion, Nihar Janga, 16, whose passion for spelling was born out of a sibling rivalry going back to age 5. Watching his mother quiz his older sister, Navya, as she was preparing for the bee, Nihar started chiming in, reciting spellings even before Navya could finish.

“I looked up to the fact that my sister was participating in something like this, but I also wanted to be better at it. Eventually, it grew into my own love for spelling and everything it’s taught me,” Nihar said.

Navya and Nihar’s family, who live in Austin, Texas, first came across spelling bees through Navya’s bharatanatyam (an Indian classical dance) teacher, who was involved with the nonprofit North South Foundation.

The foundation has more than 90 chapters, hosts regional and national educational contests in a variety of subject areas, and raises money through these events for disadvantaged students in India. A spelling bee is among the contests run by the organisation, and it’s common for top contenders to continue on to Scripps.

Natarajan is now the foundation’s president, and it has become a powerhouse incubator. Five of 2019’s Scripps octochamps were involved in the North South Foundation.

Another prominent spelling bee on the practise circuit is the South Asian Spelling Bee, which is run by the marketing agency Touchdown Media and has been sponsored by companies such as MetLife and State Farm.

“At its height, it was really pumping in a lot of capital into holding these bees,” Shankar said. “They’d have a title sponsor and numerous smaller sponsors.” This gave spelling bees a lot more traction and momentum, she added: “It has an entire engine behind it.”

“The community created an infrastructure for the kids to really thrive and excel in this area,” she said.

More Than a Memory Game

For many students, spelling isn’t just a study, but also an all-encompassing way to learn about the world.

“Spelling is not just taking these 500,000 words in the English language and memorising them and then you win the spelling bee — that’s not how it works,” Nihar said. “I want people to think of spelling just like any other competition, like wanting to learn the story behind that field and learning how that field can apply to the world.”

“You can’t just eat protein powder and then go be good at football,” he added.

Dhroov said that one of his favourite things about spelling is how it intersects with his other passions, including music. “I worked on the ‘Carnival of Venice’ song on my alto saxophone, and that’s a piece where the dynamics are very important,” he said. “Knowing all these words — for example, ‘crescendo,’ ‘diminuendo,’ ‘ritardando,’ which means to slow down, ‘fortissimo,’ which means play extremely loud” allowed him to “bring emotion to the piece, make it come alive,” he said.

The amount of concentration necessary also inevitably leads to significant time commitments, and plenty of pressure on the kids.

“The level of our competitors has definitely increased. Some of our students prepare for the spelling bee as any other collegiate athlete would with the amount of preparation, the dedication, and the amount of time that they study,” said J Michael Durnil, the bee’s executive director.

Tarini Nandakumar was, at 10, one of the youngest semifinalists competing this year. Before she struck out in the semifinals, on 27 June, she said she wanted to finish what her older brother, Pranav, had started years before. “My brother got 19th place in nationals, so I wanted to continue and try and win,” Tarini said. Of how it felt to have made it that far, “It’s exciting, but also scary,” she said.

The pressure was high. And when Tarini, who is from Round Rock, Texas, didn’t make it to the finals, she felt a lot of disappointment. Many tears were shed at first, she said. Her parents tried to comfort her, and within just a few days, she said, she came around and was asking for help to start studying again.

“I’m very motivated to get better next time,” she said. “Or at least get in the top five.”

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Anna P. Kambhampaty c.2021 The New York Times Company

from Firstpost World Latest News https://ift.tt/3yo1Kb8

[middleeyt]

Coachella 2018 Must See Underrated Artists

Coachella 2018 is soon approaching and I am sure you are getting your playlist ready with that Beyonce, The Weekend, and Cardi B, but that is quite honestly just the tip of the iceberg with the amount of crazy good artistry at this years festival. So get your Spotify playlist ready and check out my picks for this years must see underdogs. (Checkout my very own collaborative Spotify Coachella playlist down below and feel free to add your favorite picks!)

Friday April 13th

Bleachers- Similar Artist:  Walk the Moon 

Bleachers is the official stage name of amazing songwriter and record producer Jack Antonoff, who is also part of the well known band Fun. Antonoff has written massive hits for people like Sia, Taylor Swift and Lorde.  Bleachers' music is heavily influenced by the late '80s, early '90s.

Belly- Similar Artist: French Montana

Ahmad Balshe, better known by his stage name Belly,is a Palestinian-Canadian rapper, singer, songwriter, and record producer. Belly’s music is both influenced by the political disparity between the Israeli- Palestinian conflict and the violence and poverty his own family endured.

PVRIS- Similar Artist: Florence and the Machine

PVRIS is an American rock band formed by members Lynn Gunn, Alex Babinski, and Brian MacDonald. As previously described by AllMusic the bands music "blends dreamy electronica with dark, beat-heavy rock."

LÉON- Similar Artist: Ryn Weaver

Lotta Lindgren, better known as LÉON, is Swedish singer whose musical inspirations range from Amy Winehouse, to Beyonce and Stevie Wonder.

Whethan- Similar Artist: San Holo

American DJ and music producer Whethan is most known for his collaboration with Flux Pavilion and MAX for their song Savage. Whethan has been touring for the past year with the popular duo The Chainsmokers.

Elohim- Similar Artist: Louis The Child

Most well known for their original version of Sleepy Eyes, Elohim is an LA-based synth-pop artist with irresistible dance worthy tracks.

The Blaze- Similar Artist: Ta-Ku

The French duo is well known for their powerful short films, their music, a blend of house and a soulful R&B reminisce.

MHD- Afro-trap

Mohamed Sylla, better known by his by his stage name MHD is a French rapper whose music is the precursor of "Afro Trap", a mixture of African music and Trap music.

Saturday April 14th

Tash Sultana- Similar Artist: James Bay

Australian singer-songwriter Tash Sultana, has been booked on a sold-out tour since the start of 2017. Her social media following has gained her world wide fame as a self-taught beatboxing, vocalist, guitar tapping, loopologist.

BROCKHAMPTON- Similar Artist: Amine

BROCKHAMPTON is self-proclaimed “online’s first boy band” after coming together through the online forum "KanyeToThe". Brockhampton is an entirely independent creative agency and record label, and a thriving musical group with die-hard fans across the country.

Alina Baraz- Similar Artist: Khalid

Most known for her collaboration with Khalid on the massive hit Electric, Alina lies between mellow R&B and down-tempo electronica.

WizKid- Similar Artist: J Balvin

Already famous in his hometown of Nigeria, Wizkid brings a blend of Afropop, reggae and dancehall to the Coachella scene.

Jorja Smith- Similar Artist: dvsn

At only 20 Jorja Smith has already independently released numerous records with her jazz tinted vibe and R&B influence. Smith’s acclaimed influences range from Rihanna, to Alicia Keys.

Flatbush Zombies- Similar Artist: Joey Bada$$

Brooklyn trio, capture the best of the 90’s rap scene with dense lyrics and melodic beats bringing a refreshing tune to the Coachella rap pool.

Ekali- Similar Artist: RL Grime

Ekali’s rapid rise to fame comes after being recognized with writing credits for Drake's If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late. An advocate of young talent, Ekali brings a blend of instrumental and R&B infused trap music.

Party Favor- Similar Artist: TroyBoi

Much like his name alludes, Party Favor brings a dance party full of chart-topping tunes and rhythmic drops.

Sigrid- Similar Artist: Phoebe Ryan

Voted as one of BBC’s Sound of 2018, Sigrid is a Norwegian pop singer/ writer whose rich and powerful voice has landed her debut single Don’t Kill My Vibe on the U.S. charts.

Chloe x Halle- Similar Artist: Solange

Known to many as Beyonce’s prodigies, Chloe X Halle is a contemporary R&B duo whose rise to fame came through a rendition of Pretty Hurts by queen bee herself. Signed to her record label Parkwood Entertainment, the girls are not only great singers but great actresses starting in Freeform’s Grown-ish.

Hundred Waters- Similar Artist: HAIM

If you’re in the mood for a simp session, Hundred Waters is the act for you. Hundred Waters album “Communicating” is the bands attempt to ask societies most interpersonal questions through lyrical nuance and a crap ton of crying.

Sunday April 15th

Russ- Similar Artist: Bryson Tiller

Most known for his song Losing, Russ Vitale is a rapper, singer, songwriter from Atlanta whose work is inspired by Eminem and 50 Cent.

Jessie Ware- Similar Artist: AlunaGeorge

England native Jessie Ware’s debut album has peaked on UK Albums Chart at number 5 back when it was released in 2012. Since then, Ware has taken her powerful voice all over the world and collaborated with artist such as Ryan Tedder from Onerepublic and Cashmere Cat.

Kamaiyah- Similar Artist: Iamsu!

Oakland native, Kamaiyah’s sound is heavily influenced by 90’s rap making her debut much like the queen herself Missy Elliott, dropping some mad verses over a Young Thug beat.

DeJ Loaf- Similar Artist: Ty Dolla $ign

Born Deja Trimble, Dej Loaf’s rise to fame can be attributed to Drake’s Instagram shoutout over her first mix-tape Try Me. Now signed to Columbia Records, Dej has gained some massive popularity in the Hip-Hop scene.

LP- Similar Artist: Tegan and Sara

Laura Pergolizzi, better known as LP, is an LA-based singer/songwriter whose edgy look and epic voice has gained her a huge fan base among the Indie-pop scene.

Jacob Banks- Similar Artist: Jack Garratt

At the age of 20, Jacob Banks began his journey singing at small open mics, by 2014 he began touring with people like Alicia Keys and Sam Smith. His soulful voice makes him a heavy contender at this years festival.  

MAGIC GIANT- Similar Artist: Magic!

No artist screams #coachellavibes more than MAGIC GIANT. The LA-based band has been recognized as one of Rolling Stones “10 Artists You Need to Know”.

Coachella fest is one of my favorite festivals because of the diverse number of acts they bring each year. I  guarantee these artists will be lining up the charts in the year to come. So there you have it, your Coachella music wokeness just got a little more woke! Feel free to follow my Coachella collaborative Spotify playlist by clicking on the hyperlink RIGHT HERE! 

[finishinglinepress]

FINISHING LINE PRESS CHAPBOOK OF THE DAY:

Where all the Birds are Dancing by S.J. Stephens

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S.J. Stephens is a transplant from Southeastern Ohio to the coast of North Carolina. She holds a MA in English from Northern Kentucky University and a BA in Communications from the College of Mount St. Joseph. She is currently working toward an MFA in poetry from UNCW. Stephens has published poems in The Licking River Review, S.O.S Art, and a Sugared Water. Deeply influenced by the natural world and the beautiful landscapes of Cincinnati and Wilmington, it is her desire to write with the honesty, bravery, and humanity of other female poets.

ADVANCE PRAISE FOR Where all the Birds are Dancing by S.J. Stephens

In poems as vivid as they are precise, S.J. Stephens reckons boldly with the difficult world and—in equal measure—with what is difficult in herself. Again and again she trains on self and other (and trees and birds and bees and weeds) a loving attention no less exacting for its affection. This work is feminist in its insistence on telling the truth from an embodied female perspective, even when the truth is that she has internalized a “shame so shrill it makes [her] shudder.” Sometimes these poems tell their hard truth directly to those who endanger the speaker’s capacity for liberty and self regard. Sometimes they speak to the natural world, finding echoes of the inner life in outer scenes: hunger, danger, love. Often the speaker seems to talk to the speaker, counseling herself to keep seeing, keep saying what’s true for the sake of her own wellbeing and for the good of us all. Always these poems speak to a reader ready to train her gaze, too, on what’s beautiful and frightening, frustrating and heartening. While Stephens’ poems offer no compromise, they certainly offer, in poem after poem, plenty of consolation. “[A] raw and bloody fear rises in me,” she tells us “but there is also wild, wild joy.”

–Melissa Crowe, author of Dear Terror, Dear Splendor (University of Wisconsin Press)

These are elegant, surprising poems. The speaker longs to find something sacred in the branches, in the Ohio River, in the Salty Dog Café, and in language. There is such a deep need to connect despite violence, despite “a world that picks at…souls like scavenger birds feasting,” because in each Laurel there could be a “beating heart.” Stephens’ voice is muscular and full of truth, and I am so lucky to have come to know it. A beautiful, powerful collection.

–Kelly Moffett, author of Bird Blind and A Thousand Wings

Through Stephens’s work, we realize the questions that are buried deep within our subconscious—questions like: am I a true feminist or am I just giving the impression that I am a feminist without truly living it? “I wear the impression of Cinderella and her feminist rant / like an evening gown.” She takes us on a journey through the #metoo movement and whittles the essence of family into concrete images we understand at a gut level: “Even though the love lies on the floor / with sawdust and drops of paint / and years of words stick in the cracks of wood paneling”. Stephens possesses an unusual talent for the art of the sestina, and she brings us a new consciousness of the “childless mother”—that there are women who are mothers but have not had the opportunity to have children, and this is a fresh take on feminism. Stephens’s work is timeless and remains with the reader long after they close the book. –Megan D. Henson, author of What Pain Does

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[btsorpheus]

 (BTS (방탄소년단) MAP OF THE SOUL : 7 'Interlude : Shadow' Comeback Trailer; Jan. 9, 2020.)

MIN YOONGI IS DEAD, WHO KILLED MIN YOONGI?

BTS have never been afraid to be horrifically personal in their works. Even in 2013, when they first started out, their songs criticized the grueling nature of being a K-pop idol. In “We Are Bulletproof Pt. 2,” one of the songs on their first album, RM declares that they are, indeed, “bulletproof” even as Jungkook recalls “[giving] up sleep for [his] dreams” and Suga confesses, “My limit was broken in the / double standards and many oppositions.”

Out of the seven members, Suga has been the most revealing of his interiority. This usually comes through his music more than any other source.

One of the songs my roommate cried through was on his solo album, Agust D. Agust D is one of his many monikers: born Min Yoongi, beginning his rap career as Gloss, rebranded by Big Hit Entertainment as Suga, and self-declared Agust D (which is “Suga” backwards plus DT, which allegedly stands for Daegu Town, his home). Agust D is a deeply personal album in which he discusses his social anxiety, depression and implied suicidal intent, and growing ambition amidst it all.

Which is the real man? The vulnerable and furious rapper, the K-pop idol, or the boy born in Daegu?

The answer feels like it should be obvious. But as Hitchcock’s 1958 thriller Vertigo proves, people don’t always want real.

Vertigo is an Orphic film that intertwines with celebrity. By the time this film was released, Alfred Hitchcock was already an established director and the film’s star, Jimmy Stewart, was a popular and well-liked Hollywood leading man. Though the film was largely unrecognized when originally released, it has since become a cult classic with a 95% rating on Rotten Tomatoes. Like BTS, Vertigo has slowly accumulated celebrity and respect over time.

In the film, the hero, a detective named Scottie, falls in love with Madeleine, the woman he’s been tasked by an old classmate to follow. However, Madeleine appears to be possessed by her ancestor, a woman named Carlotta. And to top it all off, Madeleine is not even real--she’s really Judy, a young woman hired by the classmate to pretend to be the true Madeleine.

Three woman exist in Judy: herself, Madeleine, and Carlotta. Scottie is convinced that he is in love with Madeleine. Even when just Judy wants him, he tries to reshape her into the Madeleine he thought he knew.

Scottie occupies the role of Orpheus--a man chasing after the woman he loved, a woman who is technically dead. Scottie’s attempts to resurrect Madeleine echo Orpheus’s attempt at guiding Eurydice out of the Underworld. It is, from the start, a doomed endeavor.

Judy/Madeleine must then represent Eurydice. Though perhaps not evident in Ovid’s myth, Eurydice is often depicted as different in life and death in later iterations. Judy/Madeleine is extremely fragmented, but even the Eurydice of French filmmaker Jean Cocteau’s Orpheus (1950) changes after death. Lively and happy in life, she becomes quiet and stiff in death.

(Orpheus (1950) dir. Jean Cocteau.)

In both films, the mirror is used as a signal to the viewer that there is a separate virtual reality that the characters are in contact with. In Orpheus, the mirror is their portal to the Underworld--a physical parallel reality. In Vertigo, the mirror is a nod to Scottie’s deluded belief in the Madeleine he thought existed.

In Suga’s music video for “Interlude : Shadow,” he opens the song by standing in front of a door, which transforms into a reassembled mirror--that then acts as a portal to introduce a second Suga behind it (as shown in the header image on this section). It’s eerily similar to the mirrors of Cocteau’s film--gateways to a separate, parallel reality.

The Orpheus myth demands a death. Eurydice must die so that Orpheus can make his katabasis, and she must remain dead so that Orpheus can mourn so powerfully that he "[draws] the trees, / the beasts, the stones to follow” (Ovid 259). Eurydice must die so that Orpheus can succeed.

On Agust D’s “The Last,” Suga kills Min Yoongi: “Min Yoongi is dead already (I killed him).” If Min Yoongi is dead, then who is singing? Since the album is credited under Agust D, then it must be him. But his idol identity as Suga is still present; a majority of the listeners tuning into Agust D are only doing so because they already know him as Suga from BTS.

Min Yoongi must die so that Suga can succeed. In Vertigo, Judy and Madeleine can’t coexist for Scottie, and though Scottie and his grief-stricken attempts to bring Madeleine back make him an Orpheus-figure, the mytheme of the fated separation of lovers is echoed in Madeleine and Judy’s inability to coexist even if both women, though one is fictional, have fallen in love with Scottie.

Suga can’t constantly exist as both his constructed (or, fictional) idol persona and his organic self. RM recognizes this same conflict in “Intro : Persona,” in which he questions his identity and who he wants to be. The idea of death comes back into play as he asks, “Who the hell am I? / Tell me all your names baby / Do you wanna die?” Though the question is posed in the second-person, he later addresses the several personas he has to wear in his daily life:

“The 'me' that I remember and people know”

“The 'me' that I created myself to vent out”

“The 'me' that I want myself to be”

“The 'me' that people want me to be”

“The 'me' that you love”

“And the 'me' that I create”

“The 'me' that's smiling”

“The me that's sometimes in tears”

(RM dancing in front of a set of mirrors in the MV for “Intro : Persona.” March 27, 2019.)

As an internationally famous group, BTS face a lot of pressure to maintain a public image. To do so, they must sacrifice who they would’ve been otherwise: the idea of being a normal person with a normal life. Now, they must play the personalities that “people know” and “love,” and who “people want [them] to be.”

They essentially confirm the existence of their public masks in a Q&A during a fan event, 2019 Festa. It’s not just RM who feels this pressure, but all of them. J-Hope and Jin both discussed their need to be “cheerful” and full of “energy” on-camera and in public in order to maintain the optimistic façades that their fans are used to seeing.

But the public self isn’t always a danger. Jimin commented, “As BTS, I tend to be assertive and I’m a very confident guy. But what troubles me is whether Jimin as BTS and Park Ji Min should be more alike or different.” 

They project qualities they admire in an effort to be perfect idols, but in doing so have become almost static, idealized role-models both for their fans and for themselves.

(BTS (방탄소년단). Jungkook in BTS MAP OF THE SOUL : 7 Concept Photo Sketch #2. Feb. 19, 2020.)

As the youngest member of BTS, Jungkook presents another form of Eurydice’s death in his solo song on Map of the Soul: 7, “My Time.” In it, he recounts his journey from being a trainee to his current position as one of the most popular idols in the industry.

Because he’s the youngest member, Jungkook debuted at the age of 16. This isn’t unusual in K-pop; superstar Taemin debuted at 14. But he’d been training all through his formative years and begun his career before even graduating high school--because of that, he’s had to “[become] a grown-up faster than everyone else.” As his peers continued their education or completed their compulsory military service, Jungkook has been caught up in the constant whirlwind of the entertainment industry, feeling “alone in a different time and space.”

Jungkook describing his career as an idol as a form of isolation is reminiscent of Eurydice’s fatal imprisonment. There’s a reason the musical Hadestown depicts the Underworld as a highly industrialized institution that Eurydice binds herself to, locked up behind a restrictive contract not dissimilar from a K-pop “slave contract.”

Like how Suga sacrifices his private self for the glory of being a public figure, Jungkook has sacrificed his childhood to grow into a celebrity. In an interview from the third episode of BTS’s documentary series Burn the Stage, Jungkook calls his sense of self “a manifestation of all [the other members’] characters coming together.” Jungkook says, “What I see, feel, and learn is mostly from the members.” Whoever Jungkook would’ve become had he not entered the Korean entertainment industry has been lost. But unlike Suga, who intentionally “killed” Min Yoongi, his loss has been a gradual, perhaps accidental one.

In this, BTS continues the Orphic myth: whether Eurydice’s death is an accident or not varies on the teller.

In this way, BTS have come to occupy both the Orpheus and Eurydice roles. As Orpheus, they’re powerful and influential musicians who cross physical and linguistic boundaries. As Eurydice, they sacrifice a part of their selves in a performative death to be public personalities.

Even though Madeleine and Judy can’t coexist, Orpheus and Eurydice come in a pair. The Orpheus of Sarah Ruhl’s play Eurydice is distraught without her--he loses his sense of reality and self when she dies, and it’s this distress that motivates him to find her. The clerk officiating Orfeu’s marriage in Black Orpheus turns to Mira, a woman outside the myth’s typical structure, to jokingly ask if she’s Eurydice under the assumption that Orpheus and Eurydice must always be together. 

Black Orpheus, like Vertigo, is a film surrounded in stardom. The fame of Brazil’s Carnival, the holiday during which Black Orpheus takes place, surrounds the film, and portraying Orpheus as a local celebrity plays into the struggles of maintaining a public image. Orpheus is expected to marry Mira, the queen bee in their community, but pines after the quiet newcomer, Eurydice. He struggles between maintaining his reputation as a beloved musician and becoming the man who breaks Mira’s heart--and when he chooses the latter, his once-fans immediately turn against him and destroy his home.

Because BTS’s songs are as much about the downsides of fame as they are about BTS--their personal struggles, or at least the ones they’re willing to share, stem from that aspect of themselves.

BTS, with their public personas, come to embody both halves of the mythic pair. And while Eurydice must die in some respect (“I killed [her]”), she lives on, like a ghostly shade, in others.

[« prev] · [next »]

[viewfromthedrumstool]

USA Tour, day 16

Our final internal flight is from Seattle down to California and it’s a much more casual affair than flying international. Sat on the back row next to Lynn from Taiwan I trace the course of the Pacific coast, a clear view in a cloudless sky through the starboard porthole.

Back on Californian soil! I was last here a year ago with my pal Willie J Healey. He and the boys are back out on tour in the UK with Sundara Karma as we speak and as lucky as I am to be here I am missing the craic with the laddies. But I’ll be seeing them soon for the last couple of dates.

Meanwhile back in San Fran the air is warm and there’s a wonderful softness to the light. It’s another city that needs to be seen to be believed - the streets slope up at gravity defying angles (has anyone played Crazy Taxi?) and I hope the park brake on the rental van is secure...

We check in at the Casa Loma Hotel on Fillmore Street, one of the less glamorous residences of the tour but probably my favourite: it’s rich in California vibe and strikingly similar in name and ambience to the Alta Loma from Ask The Dust by John Fante.

However the wonky floor and sloping beds combined with the rolling San Fran streetscape meant I’d have to wait until we were beyond the city limits before I would really know which way was up again.

JMac (FOH) finds a restaurant a few blocks north and some of us head down the hill for dinner. The Alamo Square Seafood Grill is a family owned fish joint and the waitress does a glorious job of remembering all 6 of our starter, main, dessert and wine selections by memory. I have pear salad, grilled snapper and split a peach cobbler and a floating island with Gerard washed down with a few glasses of Napa Valley Grenache. The food is probably the bestest freshest of the tour so far and the restaurant is the perfect blend of quality fare and fine wine but with a comfortable casual atmosphere.

Afterwards we head back up towards the hotel and stumble across ‘Originals Vinyl’ on the corner of Fillmore and Hayes.

Watching Bob Stanley in a record store is witnessing Bob Stanley in his natural habitat. He fingers the records with speed and finesse, his digits rifling rapidly through the racks, eyes scanning the sleeve and his brain computing and analysing the results, cross-referencing artist, issue and condition against his mammoth internal database.

A sparkle in his eye - and his haul of 12″s tucked firmly under his arm (I hear rumours that his house started subsiding on the end that he kept his record collection...) - he leaps between Country and Soul, pauses over Rock to recommend me a Louden Wainwright III, before darting to Disco to dig out that illusive early Bee Gees seven-inch. There’s something almost athletic about his manner, and it’s clear I’m witnessing a master: like watching Picasso paint, Ronaldo in the air or Taylor at the oche.

The rest of the evening I spend back in the casa with the windows open, the cool Cali evening air wafting gently while the Yankees play the Twins on the TV.

Awaken the following morning to a room bathed in soft California sunlight that streaks through the blinds and bounces about every white surface. Gerard, Silvia, James and myself head first to ‘Brenda’s Meat & 3 Three’ for a southern-style breakfast followed by a long walk to the northern coast of the San Fran Peninsula, heading down Fillmore Street, west on Broadway, down the Lyon Street Steps, through Presidio park eventually emerging to gasps and guffaws beside the Golden Gate Bridge.

Yonder to our gig and it’s our biggest show of the tour at the iconic Fillmore. They have a tradition of designing custom posters for shows at the venue and much of the interior wall space is filled with the colourful pieces - the Grateful Dead, Tom Petty, Led Zeppelin, and The Who. Wilco, Sigur Ros, Radiohead, and among them even two for past Saint Etienne shows...!

Afore the show JMac and myself head out to catch the thrilling finale of the Diamondbacks/Rockies wildcard game but have to leave before it ends to catch Shawn Lee’s set. Shawn produced St Et’s recent ‘Home Counties’ album and will be supporting for the final three shows of the tour.

Sarah is in fine voice tonight and we have one of the best shows of the tour. It’s a touching moment when she hands her feather bower to a fan on the front row while all around him celebrate his acquisition and share in his joy. I felt like I was witnessing the very happiest moment of someone’s life and it is was a poignant reminder of just how much these gigs mean to people (another fan turned up in a home-made embroidered ‘Saint Etienne - Home Counties’ denim jacket!).

After the show Pete, John and myself head across the road to the Boom Boom Bar which is a classic dark Cali dive bar where the unseen of San Franciscan society gather to dance to the fantastic house band, a five-piece who’ve been playing here for twenty years. Pete has a hazy deja vu of a night in the same bar some years earlier and I swear there’s a twinkle of recognition in the bass players eye when he spots him sipping a Mojito on the dance floor...

Arise early, a little more shabby than normal, for the long drive down to Pomona Valley, in Los Angeles County. It’s a 6 1/2 hour drive (without LA traffic...), 410 miles: about the distance from London to Glasgow!

Stop at Denny’s for a round of their signature ‘Sizzlers’ followed by a gas station in the middle of Hicksville, CA that sells bumper stickers that say things like “Trump the chumps”, “Obamacare makes me sick” and “One Big Ass Mistake America”...

Continue south to a soundtrack of Jackson Browne. Fruit fields, oil derricks, farm land, a fleeting glimpse of a real-life twister and then more endless brush while an epic hazy mountain skyline scrolls slowly left to right on the horizon like a painted Hollywood movie backdrop.

Eventually the road rises up; traverse a final scenic mountain range; softly softly the rural becomes urban and finally we drop down via the I-5 into the Greater Los Angeles Area.

See signs for Santa Fe, San Bernardino and and Santa Barbara. Something called The Garlic Crab and something called Lemon Cuisine Of India. Pass the Rosebowl as featured in Depeche Mode’s 101 and the Santa Anita Raceway, Bukowski’s favourite track. Moments, snapshots, and characters from all of the greats: Paris, Texas, The Graduate, The Maltese Falcon.

A glimpse of a college football game. Modern American architecture and apartment buildings with communal pools. The LA river. Shopping plazas and strip malls. Interstate 10 and Highway 71. ARCO, Texaco, Petco, and AAMCO; hotels, motels, 7Eleven and Circle K. Endless suburbia, the most epic of all sprawling metropoli, people and their stories everywhere you look. The Tortilla Curtain; Columbo. Liquor stores and a coin laundry. Pawn shops, gun shops, El Pollo Loco. ‘Cadillacs of Crestview’. Palm tree upon palm tree and long shadows on pastel grey sidewalks.

It’s been a long day and it’s not over yet as we round a final No Right On Red and greet the stylish Glasshouse venue! Yours at last from LA, MM

(Middle pic by James Ball! Thanks James)

[whatsupsac]

What’s Up w/Your Weekend, 2/17 - 2/20/17

Friday

Follow Your Heart LP Release: Ross Hammond is performing in support of his new album for resonator and 12-string guitars at Downtown & Vine. All ages. 6-9PM. No cover.

Keynote Poets Double Feature: Open Mic + Grace Loescher: A night of poetry and music - bring your own to share from 715-9PM, then stay for Speak Out Sacramento founder Grace Loescher at 930PM. At Stellar Studios. Donations accepted.

Moxiecrush Burlesque Comedy Show: Head to Blue Lamp for this variety comedy show. 21+ 8PM- midnight. $10 cover.

Basement Sessions - The Philharmonik: Sol Life artist and rising star The Philharmonik takes over Ruhstaller Beer with his fresh take on hip-hop. 21+. 10PM-1AM. $10.

Saturday

Preservation Sacramento Roundtable @ ArtStreet: The quarterly meeting of Preservation Sacramento will take place on the main stage at ArtStreet. Hear from Dr. Seumas Coutts on ArtStreet and Katherine Bardis on the Mill at Broadway development. Community business includes Mills Act support, SacMod, presentations from city staff, and more. 9AM-noon. $5.

The Pink PussyKat A-Go-Go Case @ ArtStreet: When Sacramento Bee reporter and local filmmaker Ed Fletcher learned about the 1969 wacky strip club indecency trial involving an Orangevale strip club, the brash Sacramento County Sheriff John Misterly, Superior Court Justice Earl Warren Jr., and legendary exotic dancer Carol Doda, he decided that this little-known case was the perfect subject for a film. Join Ed Fletcher as he shares the story of the arrests at the "Pink Pussy Kat A Go-Go" nightclub, some of his research into the case, and his plans for an upcoming movie about the case. Like all of the West End Club events, there is no charge for admission--but some of the subject matter may be inappropriate for the very young or overly prudish.  6-7PM. Free.

Lady Business: Comedy Spot presents the Lady Babies edition of Lady Business from Sacramento’s only all-female improv troupe. Troupe members will share pictures and stories from their tender youths, for your enjoyment. 8PM. $8.

Phillip Lauer @ ArtStreet: Enjoy a night with one of Berlin’s favorite DJs. 9PM-130AM.

The Lipstick Weekender: Roger Carpio and Adam J spin indie rock, pop, dance, britpop and more. 21+ 9PM-2AM. $5.

Sunday

Day of Remembrance: In conjunction with the opening of three exhibitions celebrating the vast and rich culture of Japan, the Crocker will present 7.5 hours of continuous programming commemorating the 75th anniversary of the signing of the United States’ Executive Order 9066 during World War II, requiring the imprisonment of all Americans of Japanese ancestry. The day will begin with a mass meditation, followed by remarks by civic and community leaders, and throughout the day there will be a reading of the names of local men, women ,and children imprisoned in the camps.To represent the resilience of Japanese Americans who endured this injustice, there will be art demonstrations, exhibition tours, performances, and the sharing of stories by those who personally experienced the camps as children. 10AM-530PM. Free.

Replacing the Past @ ArtStreet: See this documentary film by Chris Lango and learn about the redevelopment history of Sacramento’s West End. At the West End Club. 1-2PM. Free.

Badass Monster Killer @ArtStreet: Trash Film Orgy presents a very special screening of this a freaky, funky thrill ride through the dark and dirty streets of Camaroville with Jimmy Chevelle as he battles demonic pimps, shape shiftin suckas and terrible sanity-shattering extraterrestrial horrors from beyond space and time! Kinda like Shaft meets Lovecraft! 9-11PM. Free.

Monday

Off the Grid Comedy Night: Oak Park Brewing Co. and Dorian Thomas Foster host this night of comedy. Food from guest food truck The Lamb & the Wolf. 6-10PM. No cover.

Murder Mystery Night w/Kaitlin Bruce: Head to Highwater for trivia with a smattering of murder mystery. Get your teams together and compete for prizes. 21+ 8-10PM. No cover.

Gentleman Surfer & Grill Cloth @ ArtStreet: Gentleman Surfer plays ArtStreet this Monday and we couldn't be more excited! Please join us with our friends Grill Cloth for a night of energetic and eclectic music right in the middle of the incredible ArtStreet setting. If you haven't seen it yet, it is a spectacle not to be missed. 10PM-midnight. Donations accepted.

[scienceblogtumbler]

Black Hole Collision May Have Exploded with Light June 25, 2020 Caltech

When two black holes spiral around each other and ultimately collide, they send out ripples in space and time called gravitational waves. Because black holes do not give off light, these events are not expected to shine with any light waves, or electromagnetic radiation. But some theorists have come up with ways in which a black hole merger might explode with light. Now, for the first time, astronomers have seen evidence for one of these light-producing scenarios.

With the help of Caltech’s Zwicky Transient Facility (ZTF), funded by the National Science Foundation (NSF) and located at Palomar Observatory near San Diego, the scientists have spotted what might be a flare of light from a pair of coalescing black holes. The black hole merger was first witnessed by the NSF’s Laser Interferometer Gravitational-wave Observatory (LIGO) and the European Virgo detector on May 21, 2019, in an event called S190521g. As the black holes merged, jiggling space and time, they sent out gravitational waves.

While this was happening, ZTF was performing its robotic survey of the sky that captured all kinds of objects that flare, erupt, or otherwise vary in the night sky. One flare the survey caught, generated by a distant active supermassive black hole, or quasar, called J1249+3449, was pinpointed to the region of the gravitational-wave event S190521g.

“This supermassive black hole was burbling along for years before this more abrupt flare,” says Matthew Graham, a research professor of astronomy at Caltech and the project scientist for ZTF. “The flare occurred on the right timescale, and in the right location, to be coincident with the gravitational-wave event. In our study, we conclude that the flare is likely the result of a black hole merger, but we cannot completely rule out other possibilities.” Graham is lead author of the new study, published today, June 25, in the journal Physical Review Letters.

“ZTF was specifically designed to identify new, rare, and variable types of astronomical activity like this,” says NSF Division of Astronomical Science Director Ralph Gaume. “NSF support of new technology continues to expand how we can track such events.”

How do two merging black holes erupt with light? In the scenario outlined by Graham and his colleagues, two partner black holes were nestled within a disk surrounding a much larger black hole.

“At the center of most galaxies lurks a supermassive black hole. It’s surrounded by a swarm of stars and dead stars, including black holes,” says co-author K. E. Saavik Ford of the City University of New York (CUNY) Graduate Center, the Borough of Manhattan Community College (BMCC), and the American Museum of Natural History (AMNH). “These objects swarm like angry bees around the monstrous queen bee at the center. They can briefly find gravitational partners and pair up but usually lose their partners quickly to the mad dance. But in a supermassive black hole’s disk, the flowing gas converts the mosh pit of the swarm to a classical minuet, organizing the black holes so they can pair up,” she says.

Once the black holes merge, the new, now-larger black hole experiences a kick that sends it off in a random direction, and it plows through the gas in the disk. “It is the reaction of the gas to this speeding bullet that creates a bright flare, visible with telescopes,” says co-author Barry McKernan, also of the CUNY Graduate Center, BMCC, and AMNH.

Such a flare is predicted to begin days to weeks after the initial splash of gravitational waves produced during the merger. In this case, ZTF did not catch the event right away, but when the scientists went back and looked through archival ZTF images months later, they found a signal that started days after the May 2019 gravitational-wave event. ZTF observed the flare slowly fade over the period of a month.

The scientists attempted to get a more detailed look at the light of the supermassive black hole, called a spectrum, but by the time they looked, the flare had already faded. A spectrum would have offered more support for the idea that the flare came from merging black holes within the disk of the supermassive black hole. However, the researchers say they were able to largely rule out other possible causes for the observed flare, including a supernova or a tidal disruption event, which occurs when a black hole essentially eats a star.

What is more, the team says it is not likely that the flare came from the usual rumblings of the supermassive black hole, which regularly feeds off its surrounding disk. Using the Catalina Real-Time Transient Survey, led by Caltech, they were able to assess the behavior of the black hole over the past 15 years, and found that its activity was relatively normal until May of 2019, when it suddenly intensified.

“Supermassive black holes like this one have flares all the time. They are not quiet objects, but the timing, size, and location of this flare was spectacular,” says co-author Mansi Kasliwal (MS ’07, PhD ’11), an assistant professor of astronomy at Caltech. “The reason looking for flares like this is so important is that it helps enormously with astrophysics and cosmology questions. If we can do this again and detect light from the mergers of other black holes, then we can nail down the homes of these black holes and learn more about their origins.”

The newly formed black hole should cause another flare in the next few years. The process of merging gave the object a kick that should cause it to enter the supermassive black hole’s disk again, producing another flash of light that ZTF should be able to see.

The Physical Review Letters paper, titled, “A Candidate Electromagnetic Counterpart to the Binary Black Hole Merger Gravitational Wave Event GW190521g,” was funded by the NSF, NASA, the Heising-Simons Foundation, and the GROWTH (Global Relay of Observatories Watching Transients Happen) program. Other co-authors include: K. Burdge, S.G. Djorgovski, A.J. Drake, D. Duev, A.A. Mahabal, J. Belecki, R. Burruss, G. Helou, S.R. Kulkarni, F.J. Masci, T. Prince, D. Reiley, H. Rodriguez, B. Rusholme, R.M. Smith, all from Caltech; N.P. Ross of the University of Edinburgh; Daniel Stern of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, managed by Caltech for NASA; M. Coughlin of the University of Minnesota; S. van Velzen of University of Maryland, College Park and New York University; E.C. Bellm of the University of Washington; S.B. Cenko of NASA Goddard Space Flight Center; V. Cunningham of University of Maryland, College Park; and M.T. Soumagnac of the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory and the Weizmann Institute of Science.

In addition to the NSF, ZTF is funded by an international collaboration of partners, with additional support from NASA, the Heising-Simons Foundation, members of the Space Innovation Council at Caltech, and Caltech itself.

source https://scienceblog.com/517070/black-hole-collision-may-have-exploded-with-light-june-25-2020-caltech/