#well I made my other player play that meditation for me

[alma-amentet]

Can't sleep.

I usually meditate to some special music, that helps greatly, but my (new!) earphones turned out to be not working just the time i needed them badly. Can't return them to the store bc it's been a month already... Got them delivered, tested, pulled away untilI needed them, and now... IDK how could this happen.

Damn, I'm so mentally fucked up these days... So tired of this anxiety, feeling sad and frustrated most of the time. Just wanted to curl up under my favorite blanket and get a good sleep, then enjoy my day off, do something nice (like painting).

And I just can't.

[queensunshinee]

His favorite toy- Part 4 || Art Donaldson x reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v sex), our favorite toxic relationship is back.

Word Count: 6.1k

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

This one can stand on its own, but I recommend reading the rest :)

His favorite toy- Part 4:

"What are you doing here?" I tried to sound composed. My heart couldn't stop racing at a speed I never wanted it to beat again. A speed reserved for one person only. And no matter how many years passed or how out of place he would seem in my world, Art Donaldson entered my life like he was the boss. Like he was paying my salary. With exaggerated confidence and an aura that made me blush. A smile that made my lips tremble.

I was painfully aware that my mascara was smudged after a too-long day, and that I had taken my shirt out of my skirt after lunch. Painfully aware that I had taken off my shoes an hour ago because pacing around the room in heels made it hard to think. Painfully aware that he was seeing me in all my flaws now. Years after the last time we met, and he was just as smug.

"I was in the area, and Patrick mentioned something about you working around here..." he said, as if everything in that sentence made sense. As if the fact that I stayed in touch with Patrick made sense. I nodded, trying to somehow control this ridiculous situation. I'm not supposed to react this chaotically to Art Donaldson. I'm 28. I'm not a 19-year-old girl. I do morning meditations. I drink green smoothies and ginger shots. I'm a fucking queen. But I don't feel particularly royal when I remember the coffee stain on my shirt, or the half-eaten avocado sandwich I bought from the café downstairs. It was awful. Both the sandwich and the café. I’m pretty sure the regular barista hates me because once I corrected one of my orders. Ever since, he's been out to get me. It’s a nightmare. I've considered changing jobs more times than I'd like to admit because of it.

"That sounds... completely normal," I mumbled, and he chuckled in response. One of his legs found its natural place over the other, and his fingers played with one of his billion rings in a disturbingly nonchalant way. "Is a tennis player supposed to have that many rings?" I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, knowing how stupid it sounded. Hating myself a little for how stupid it sounded. "I don’t play with them, and they’re beautiful," he shrugged. "They’re ridiculous," I rolled my eyes, trying to recover from this topic of conversation. "Yours is ridiculous," he shot back playfully, looking directly at my ring. At the small diamond (Art probably thinks it’s too small- well, fuck him).

"Oh, this?" I asked, and now we were both looking at it. I liked it until about three seconds ago. Until he walked into the room and stared at it like it was filled with snake venom. It felt like it weighed as much as my entire body. It felt like it was burning my hand from the inside. My blood boiled beneath it, reminding me that all my plans just went to hell. A reminder that I was crazy to even try making plans. "It’s pretty, delicate," I could hear the mockery in his tone. No matter how many years passed, I would always recognize every nuance in his voice. Every rise and fall in octaves. Every unnecessary affectation. He smiled the way he did when he tried to get under my skin—five minutes hadn’t passed, and he’d already succeeded. How embarrassing. What a failure as a person. A failure as a woman. A failure to feminism. Sitting in my office with a coffee stain on my shirt, while my ex from college critiques my choices like some kind of fraudulent fortune-teller. Like God sent him to help me make some life-changing decision.

"Why are you here?" I asked again, trying to maintain control and not snap at him. After all, we hadn’t spoken in nearly a decade. What good would it do to lash out at him? What would it accomplish to tell him about the therapy sessions, about the years I didn’t believe anything good was coming my way at all? About the fact that because of him, I didn’t believe I could ever be anyone’s first choice. "Why did you stay in touch with Patrick?" he asked, and for a moment, it sounded like his tough mask cracked. Like his defenses crumbled and his heart was laid bare. Like we were 20 again, and he was holding my face, explaining how scared he was to let me go.

"He insisted," I shrugged. The day after that party, Tashi's accident happened. Some would call it karma, but I’d say it was just bad luck. Because even though she hurt me without even knowing my name, I never wanted her career to end before it even began. And everyone was sad that day—Patrick, because he felt guilty, Tashi, because her knee twisted in the air, and Art, because he lost a friend and the girl who forgave him for all his bullshit. Aka me. But he won what really mattered. He got Tashi. Patrick found me that day in the library, refusing to wallow in my own misery, and somehow, he managed to entwine his miserable life with mine. He managed to secure a spot on my couch from time to time. He managed to impress me with lame jokes about his pathetic life, or maybe about mine.

And life didn’t turn out the way I planned. I didn’t discover a cure for cancer or make it to space by age 25. My apartment was crappy. So fucking crappy. But there were funny moments, and I only occasionally followed Art’s career. I only followed his love life when his face and Tashi’s were plastered on billboards. That could never have been me. It would never have worked. It wasn’t meant to be, I’d tell myself every time I was filled with self-pity. Every time I worked a temporary job selling skincare products or transcribing lectures for students. Every time I felt lost. I knew he wouldn’t have settled for someone like me in the long run.

He and Patrick made up two years ago, which was ironic. Because what’s the point of maintaining my friendship with Patrick if not to have at least one person in my life who understands the pain of knowing Art Donaldson? Of knowing that once, he was a part of your life, and it felt amazing. Almost unreal. Almost spiritual. But they made up, and Patrick promised me he wouldn’t talk about me with the smug bastard sitting in front of me right now. He promised and didn’t keep it. Well, here’s someone who’s never eating pasta at the restaurant near my place on my dime ever again.

"He insisted?" Art looked amused, and I just shrugged again in response. I knew he wanted more details, but I wanted him to take a headfirst dive into a volcano. Desires are ridiculous. "He insisted," I repeated, and this time he laughed. Actually laughed. "It's like you two have a contract not to tell me anything. How am I supposed to work with that?" He spoke as if we’d been friends for years. As if there hadn’t been a rupture, a break, and devastation. As if I didn’t have the image of him leaving me at that party seared into my brain. As if my heart hadn’t shattered into pieces because of him more times than I could count.

"I want you to handle my money," he suddenly said. "Excuse me?" I raised an eyebrow, looking at him as if he'd lost a lobe of his brain. "You're a financial advisor, right? Be my financial advisor," he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, all while glancing at the pathetic office I was sitting in. "You don’t want me to be your financial advisor, Art," I almost snorted in disbelief. "You haven’t spoken to me in ten years, and now you know what I want?" he asked, allowing himself to raise an eyebrow in return. "This is a big firm; I can recommend someone who’d be happy to take you on," I tried to fake a smile. "I'll go to your boss and tell him I’m willing to let only you handle my account, and that you’re refusing. I’m sure he’d be thrilled. I Googled him—Albert looks like a guy who’d love to lose a wealthy client," and I saw that spark in his eyes. Challenging. Almost childish. The kind that said, 'Let’s see what you do. You’ll lose.'

"That’s a terrible idea," I declared. "Keeping in touch with Patrick and not me is a terrible idea. Managing my investments will give you some good money," he said, gesturing with his hands, and for the first time, I realized how big his hands were. "Are you bored with your life, Donaldson?" I asked, trying to figure out what I was dealing with here. "Come on, Peaches, you have to admit you missed me, at least a little." And for a change, his smile was genuine. He looked like every word I said could hurt him. "Like I miss my appendix," I rolled my eyes, and he laughed. "I’m looking forward to working with you." He suddenly stood up and extended his hand for a handshake, as if that wasn’t utterly ridiculous. "I’m looking forward to it like a deer looks forward to being eaten by a lion. It’s on my wish list," I said, and he just laughed again. A laugh that was too real. The kind that made tears gather in his eyes.

An hour after he left my dingy office, my heart was still racing at an unreasonable pace. The kind that made me wonder if there was a defibrillator in the building. I tried to remember if I shook his hand at the end of the meeting. I couldn’t. . . . As he left your office, Art felt like he does after a long tennis match. One that he won. A thought detached from reality, but he allowed himself those kinds of thoughts now. He was a new person. He believed in victories before they even happened. And seeing you after so many years in real life, not in blurry Facebook pictures, felt like a victory. You hadn’t changed much. The years had even given you a more sophisticated look—subtle yet full of curves. Your eyes still looked at him with that same spark. With a glimmer of something he could never quite put his finger on. But he wanted to conquer it. He wanted to win.

When Patrick and he reconnected, it was alongside the problems that only began in his relationship with Tashi. Alongside Lily’s birth, alongside the intrusive thoughts that had plagued him all his life, he wondered if it was a mistake. But Patrick was Patrick, and when he insisted on something, he got his way. And for Patrick, he and Art had to reconnect. So they did. Slowly, gradually. He wasn’t his best friend anymore, of course. But sometimes Art thought he was his only friend. Which was strange, because he was always surrounded by people. Tashi was supposed to be his best friend, but she never was. She made it clear more than once that it was a ridiculous notion.

One night, as he and Patrick were having beers at some sketchy bar, Patrick casually mentioned that you and he were good friends. Art looked at him as if he’d fallen from the moon. He wanted to punch him. He hadn’t expected that. It felt like someone had punched him in the chest and knocked all the air out of his lungs. Patrick got over Tashi and settled for you? You weren’t supposed to be a compromise. Art wouldn’t allow that. He’d go to war if he had to. He had no grounds for such a war, but you were too good to settle for Patrick. You were too good to settle for anyone, really.

He quickly realized that things between you and Patrick were platonic. Or at least that’s what the guy sitting across from him kept repeating, but Art wasn’t fully convinced. Everything was too mysterious. Patrick kept too much information to himself. He didn’t share anything with Art about your life, and the more Patrick kept things hidden, the more obsessed Art became.

And it wasn’t weird that he checked if you’d posted a new status on Facebook almost as often as he checked if his infant daughter needed anything. It wasn’t weird that he searched for you on Instagram. It wasn’t weird that he looked through the profiles of all 67 people you followed and hated most of them. Because you didn’t follow him, and millions of people did. You could have followed, and he wouldn’t have even noticed—allegedly.

"She got engaged," Patrick said one day, throwing it into the air as if he were talking about his grocery list. Art stared at him, blinking, trying to process the information. Who’s the person responsible for this? Who’s the person who took you away, and why do you think he deserves forever with you? What kind of thought is that—that someone else deserves forever with you? That someone gets to have a picnic in the park with you. To pick you up for dates. To share a house with you. There’s someone who’s going to be the father of your kids. Who picked out a ring for you. Who’s going to make sure your dreams come true. Art doesn’t know what your dreams are. But he doesn’t want to think about it.

"Is he a good guy?" Art knew that was what he was supposed to ask. That’s what social norms demanded. "I’ve sat with them a few times when they were together. He’s kind and funny, and I think he loves her," Patrick shrugged, as if that’s all it takes to be with you. "Well, I’m happy for her," Art took a gulp of whiskey, too big, letting the drink burn its way down his throat. Patrick looked at him like he didn’t believe him. His problem, Art thought. Let him believe whatever he wants.

That night, Art opened your Instagram while Tashi was asleep. There wasn’t a picture of a ring or a tag of some guy. Tashi got annoyed because of the phone light. Art apologized.

That was almost six months ago. Since then, his life had changed because he and Tashi decided to keep their relationship strictly professional. It was for both of their benefit, though he wasn’t entirely sure how much it benefited him. He was still learning how to function without her. He was still learning how to communicate effectively. He was still trying to bridge the dissonance that came with going home to an empty house, yet navigating press conferences as if he were happily married.

In two weeks, even that charade would end. And he wasn’t sure what he was even fighting for. Because they weren’t truly happy. And you were in his thoughts enough for it to count as emotional cheating if he were married. So he let Tashi go. He was much less broken than he had imagined he would be without her.

'I’m looking forward to working with you.' -Art- He couldn’t resist sending the message. Maybe ten at night was too late. Maybe you were already asleep. Maybe your fiancé was with you, trying to love you. Maybe Art was intruding.

He didn’t particularly care if he was. . . . "I’m going to kill you," I said into the phone, hearing Patrick's rolling laughter. "You're exaggerating—" he began, trying to save his ass. "We had one rule! Just one, Patrick!" I found myself pacing the bedroom while Alec worked in the living room. This was the day after the meeting with Art Donaldson. "He lives in New York and he’s divorced. I felt like a jerk not telling him where you work when he asked so nicely," Patrick’s voice sounded genuine. "He's not divorced," I rolled my eyes. I would know if Art were divorced. His and Tashi's faces are plastered all over this stinking city.

"They’re finalizing things in about a week and a half. There will be a press conference and everything. It’s going to be a big deal," he said, as if it were common knowledge. As if I should already know this. "Sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. That wasn’t cool," he added, and I could hear him biting into something, probably an apple. "We’re supposed to be a team. You can’t prioritize Art Donaldson’s interests over mine. I fed you when you were half-homeless," I declared. "I still prioritize your interests, drama queen," he continued speaking lightly, as if I had no reason to feel like my world was crumbling. "How is this prioritizing my interests? I’m going to manage his money. I’m going to handle his investments, Patrick. I’m going to see his stupid face every time he wants, as part of my job. Because of you! This is your fault!" I found myself stopping for a moment in the room, almost stomping my foot in frustration. Years of self-work going down the drain.

"Everything okay, Bunny?" I heard Alec's voice from the living room. "Yeah, I’m just talking to Patrick," I replied, steadying my voice into something more composed and responsible. So he’d keep thinking I had my life together. "Tell him 'hi,'" Alec said, and I could only guess he’d put his headphones back on. "Well, hi," I rolled my eyes, returning to the conversation with the chief idiot. "I’m sorry," Patrick mumbled after a few seconds of silence, and I hung up, sprawling on the bed like a starfish. He didn’t sound sorry.

I sat down next to Alec on the couch, wearing just my bra and panties with an open button-down shirt over it. Sexy enough for any stranger peeking through the window. A teenage boy's wet dream. I’m on fire. He kept staring at his screen, ignoring my existence. I started placing small kisses along his neck, trying to set the mood. Trying to seal the deal. Trying not to think about the one-who-shall-not-be-named. Trying to be a good woman. Trying to conquer feminism with mediocre sex, just like Alec and I know how to deliver. "I really have to finish this, Bunny," he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably, making me sigh, lean back, and roll my eyes. "How long will it take?" I asked. "You’ll probably be asleep by then. Watch an episode of your favorite show instead," he said without looking at me. "Can we talk about the wedding?" I tried another angle. "If I don’t have time to make love to you, I definitely don’t have time to plan the wedding," he said, slipping those hideous—massive—headphones back on, ending the conversation. I kind of hated that he never said "fuck" or "have sex" or even used the word "sex" in general. He always treated it like I was Princess Diana. I am clearly not Princess Diana. Sometimes I wonder if he even wants to marry me at all. It’s been over six months since he proposed, and he’s been dodging setting a date since practically the same day. It’s very frustrating. I need to meditate.

"Bunny," he suddenly said, and I looked at him expectantly while he removed his headphones after I’d already started heading to the bedroom, "you have a stain on your shirt." He quickly put his headphones back on, eyes glued to the screen. At least the soup I had for lunch managed to fuck me today. . . . "You can't just show up here," I said as I tried to finish chewing the terrible sandwich I’d chosen today. I think it had mold. "If you had answered my messages, we could’ve scheduled something without me showing up at your office." Art looked good. So fucking good. It was frustrating. Today was the day I decided to skip the contacts and wear glasses. God hates me. But on the other hand, God was trying to help me—making sure Art Donaldson never gets attracted to me. God is on my side. I knew she was a feminist.

"What do you want?" I mumbled in surrender, knowing he wouldn’t leave until he said whatever he came to say so we could all move on with our lives. "To talk business," he smiled from ear to ear. "I'm eating right now, come back in half an hour," I replied, "or better yet, schedule a meeting like a rational human being." I continued pressing my point. "Better idea, let's go grab lunch and talk business over food." He looked at me like a dad who just told his little girl what her next hour is going to look like. "Sorry, I can't—" "Art Donaldson! When I got your email, I couldn't believe it," Albert burst into my office excitedly. Sure, let’s invite everyone. Apparently, there’s free cookies being handed out. All are welcome.

Art kept wearing his unbearable poster smile while Albert went on and on about tennis and how much he loved Rafael Nadal. Albert is clearly a man with vast general knowledge. "She treating you right?" Albert asked Art as if they were best friends, and now they both stared at me while all I wanted was to finish my food-poisoning sandwich in peace. "She just agreed to join me for lunch to talk about my money," Art said, and if looks could kill, Art Donaldson would’ve had a stroke right there and disappeared from our lives as suddenly as he appeared. But no, looks don’t kill, and feminist God apparently isn’t on my side anymore because now I’m sitting across from this asshole at a diner. I ordered a burger because I knew he’d never allow himself to eat one and would whine for hours about how he wants to eat a burger every day but can’t.

"I hope that's okay," I smiled one of the fakest smiles I could muster, blinking as I took a bite of the slab of meat in front of me. "Mmm, it's amazing," I sighed, watching for a moment as he stared at me, mouth half-open, eyes sparkling. "You're cruel," he stated after shaking his head, as if shaking off urges. He looked different with short hair. I always told him he needed to cut it because it kept falling into his eyes, but his curls had a youthful playfulness that was clearly missing now. He looked defeated.

"So, what did you want to talk about? What are you looking to invest in?" I tried to focus on the reason behind this ridiculous meal while Art stole a fry from my plate and picked at the sad grilled chicken he had ordered. Maybe I should stop making those satisfied sounds when I eat. "You," he said, biting his lip like a kid who let a curse word slip in front of his mom. Testing boundaries. Watching as I rolled my eyes. "I'm not going to let you waste my time, Donaldson," and we both knew I wasn’t just talking about business. Because honestly? Fuck business. Art didn’t seem like someone who was planning to disappear from my life anytime soon. He had shown up too determined for that to happen. "I have no intention of wasting your time, Peaches," he smiled, leaning back, relaxing a little after we established this basic ground rule. He continued stealing my food.

"So, tell me about him," he suddenly said after insisting I order an enormous ice cream that was supposed to be just for me. Every time his spoon got closer, mine heroically fought it off. "Who?" I asked, taking a spoonful of ice cream and leaving it in my mouth for a few seconds. His gaze immediately locked on my ring. "We're not that kind of friends, Donaldson," I said, watching as he inched his spoon toward my ice cream, and I quickly blocked him. No chance. "So what kind of friends are we?" he asked, smiling, looking half at me and half at our spoons, still battling each other. "I don't know," I sighed a little, finally lowering my spoon in defeat. There’s no point in fighting. It’s truly a lost cause.

The more Art Donaldson entered my life, the more Alec distanced himself from it. Art did it in a quiet way, almost eerily so. It started with deep conversations about financial investments he wanted to make. About charity events he wanted to be part of. A foundation he wanted to establish. He talked about his money as if it made sense to be this rich at his age. As if he and I were on the same level in terms of lifestyle. He never once acted condescending about it, even though I expected him to. Even though I had prepared arguments in advance. He never once asked why I didn’t continue in academia or why I gave up on medicine. He didn’t poke at that wound. Even though he could have. Even though it would’ve been easy.

It continued with stupid messages in the middle of the day about how he was hungry, tired, or wanted to go home. Messages about seeing a guy dressed as a bear in the middle of the street. Fucking New York. He’d ask questions about my day. Ask what I ate. If I ate. If I was drinking enough water. Never anything too deep. Never out of nosy curiosity. If I forgot who he was, I might’ve thought he cared about me. I know, it’s unbelievable.

One time, he called me at seven in the evening, talking such nonsense that I wondered if he was drunk. I wondered out loud, of course, because I’m not 19, and I’m not afraid to tell Art Donaldson what I think. He wasn’t drunk. He made dinner and decided to call. He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. Said it, and then went on about his day. About Lily. About how she was adjusting to splitting her time between his place and Tashi’s. He talked about Patrick and told me what he was cooking. It was domestic. Like I was a part of his life. Weird.

Alec and I were in the middle of a fight that made me wonder if I was mentally strong enough not to throw the vase that was sitting on the dresser. Not at him. I’m not violent. On the floor, to make a point. “Do you even want to marry me?” I suddenly asked. Because at that point, I no longer knew what was happening. I don’t like not knowing what’s happening. “Of course I wa-” “To who the hell is it obvious? Do you know how embarrassing it is when people ask me about a wedding date almost a year later, and I change the subject?!” I cut him off. “Every time I try to bring it up, you’d rather talk about light fixtures or that time we randomly had an hour-long conversation about types of doors.” I reminded him of some of the truly bizarre moments we’ve had recently. “We do need to replace the door.” I shot him a look that should’ve made it clear that if he kept going with that sentence, I was breaking the vase on the floor.

“Why don’t you want to fuck me anymore?” I suddenly asked. Almost defeated after too much yelling. “What? Bunny-” he blushed. The question was too brutal for him. Too raw for his delicate soul, which couldn’t handle talking about sex. “I can count on one hand how many times we’ve fucked since you proposed,” I said it as bluntly as I could, enjoying his discomfort. “We don’t have to make love every day,” he mumbled. Last time I checked, to make love, there has to be love. I threw the vase. Alec left the house. . . . ‘You’re not at work.’ – A –

‘How is it that we’re back to you not answering me?’ – A –

‘Did you secretly get married over the weekend?’ – A –

‘Seriously, get back to me. It’s about the charity event.’ – A –

The bitter truth was that I was busy wallowing in the current failure of my life- Alec. I binge-watched all the seasons of The O.C. in three days and ate more ice cream than should be legal. But I didn’t feel the pain in my bones the way you’re supposed to when ending what was supposed to be the relationship. I’d once hurt more over losing someone who loved me less.

‘Are you okay? You’ve got our mutual friend worried.’ – P – He talked about Art like he was a spy. ‘Hey, could you stop being an idiot for a second and just answer to say you’re alive?’ – P –

‘I’m calling the fire department to check your apartment.’ – P –

‘This is concerning.’ – P –

‘I’ll call your mom. She’d love to hear from me after that time I burped in her face.’ – P –

‘I broke up with Alec.’ – (Y/N)–

‘You’re not going to die alone.’ – P –

‘I know you think you will, but you won’t.’ – P –

‘You can’t know that.’ – (Y/N) –

‘You’re an idiot.’ – P –

‘Are you okay?’ – P –

‘I mean, obviously you’re not okay, but... are you okay?’ – P –

‘I’m okay.’ –(Y/N)–

When I walked into the hall where Art Donaldson’s charity event for kids with muscular dystrophy, was being held, eyes didn’t turn toward me like they do in the movies. Everyone was too busy with their conversations and stroking each other’s egos. From the side, it almost looked homoerotic—the gentle touches on shoulders and the occasional pats. Almost sexy. Maybe I was seeing sex in things that weren’t sexy because my ex refused to touch me with more resolve than an ant carrying food that weighed more than its body. “You made it,” Art’s voice came from behind me. “You’re sharp,” I shot back as I turned to him, taking one of the champagne glasses he offered. “Is Patrick here too?” I asked. “No, he couldn’t come. He signed up for a Challenger in Malibu,” he replied, his eyes unapologetically scanning me. I felt completely exposed under his penetrating gaze. “So random,” I mumbled. Art’s hand gently pulled me by the waist, bringing me close to him while keeping his hand exactly where it was. I almost let confusion show on my face, but he introduced me to the man who had come over to talk to him, never taking his eyes—or his hand—off me. Not during the next conversation, or the next one, either. He presented us as a strange package deal. If someone wanted to talk to him, they had to talk to me too. Maybe he hoped it would drive people away. It didn’t. "Want to step outside for some air?" he whispered in my ear. After spending most of the evening standing so close to each other, it felt strange to pull away now that no one else was around. "Sure, why not." I shrugged, acting like it wasn’t a big deal. Before stepping out, we each grabbed a glass of wine. "You raised a lot of money," I remarked, trying to break the ice. "You disappeared on me," he shot back, not bothering with small talk. "I’ve been busy." I shrugged again. "Where’s your ring?" he asked. "You’re obsessed with my hands, Donaldson," I said, unsure how to respond to this level of bluntness after being in a relationship with someone who was too scared to talk to me for years. "It’s not relevant anymore," I added, as his gaze didn’t allow me to dodge the question. "Good, it was ugly," he stated, stopping in his tracks, making me stop too and turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow. His expression was challenging again, with that playful spark, inviting a debate. "It wasn’t ugly," I rolled my eyes. "It was pathetic, Peaches. You know you deserve better," he declared, leaving no room for argument.

And somehow, he was so close. Close enough that his breath, smelling of mint gum and wine, blended with mine. "I’m not looking for a rebound," I murmured. "Neither am I," his usual smug smile was gone. There was no trace of it. He looked hazy. Almost captive. "What are you looking for?" I dared to ask. "You," he replied. It was a good answer.

After an excruciatingly long hour and twenty minutes, during which I had two more glasses of wine, and Art spoke into the microphone—stopping me from downing a third—we arrived at his house. It looked a bit like a modern palace. "How is it that you live here?" I mused aloud, and his mouth found my neck as he chuckled. "What, this old thing?" he mumbled, his kisses as sharp as his words. "Don’t leave marks, Donaldson. We’re adults," I managed to say as I kicked off my heels, and he unzipped my dress.

"I want to do this from the moment you walked into the room today. Fuck, you’re so hot," he growled. It was throaty and masculine, almost animalistic. His eyes scanned me like a smoke detector picking up a cigarette. Within seconds, I found myself on the most comfortable couch I had ever been on. His lips traveled over me as if he was painting a map, as if he remembered all the sensitive points on my body. "I missed her," he said, giving a small bite to my right nipple, glancing at my face as I let out a moan. "her too," he added, moving to the left one. "Art, I need you." I tried to make it clear to him that I couldn't handle the teasing right now. That he should save it for another time. For someone else. For something else. I need him inside me.

"Peaches, have some patien—" he started, continuing to place deadly kisses on various areas of my body. "Art, just fuck me. Okay?" I almost pleaded, my voice lower than usual, filled with an inexplicable need. He looked at me for half a minute and nodded. "Okay baby, I got you," he said. And within seconds, his boxers were on the floor, and my panties disappeared too. He was inside me as if this was his home, as if he belonged there. "Fuck. Art. Thank you, there," I felt stupid, but I couldn't control it. I needed him so badly. I needed someone to fill the empty space. That Art Donaldson would fill the empty space.

He moved at a chaotic pace, almost as if he was trying to prove he could give me exactly what I wanted. What I needed. And he was right. I came after a few minutes, during which his cock filled me perfectly, and his lips found mine and refused to let go. He wrapped me from every direction and came right after I did.

"It's like we're teenagers," I muttered, and he laughed. "I usually last longer," he stated, not getting up, his body weight feeling almost comfortable on top of me. It was almost nice to breathe heavily. "So do I," I retorted. His hand drew little shapes on my shoulder. "Let's go to sleep," he decided, standing up slowly, reaching out his hand and pulling me toward him. Not forgetting to give me another kiss on the lips, a small one. As if it had happened a million times before. As if it were a routine.

"Your bed should be illegal, Donaldson," I said after he tossed a soft T-shirt he had in his closet over me. He lay down beside me, laughing. "I can't believe you're here. I was afraid it wouldn't happen," he said, with a seriousness that felt profound. "How long have you been thinking about this?" I tried to sound amused. "Since the moment I stepped into your office," his honesty was both terrifying and comforting. No one had talked to me so openly in a while. "probably before that" he added. "You can't waste my time, Art," I replied, looking up to catch his gaze. . . . Art took a moment to nod. He already had a ring for you. Even before you broke up with that idiot, he had bought the ring. He didn't know where life would lead you. He just knew he was going to spend every free moment proving to you that he loved you enough not to waste your time. Not when you were his favorite person.

How are we doing guys?!?!?!?! Can't wait to hear from you. That's my chance to remind y'all that English is not my first language and I might have some grammar issues. love you all, hope it was a good addition to the story <3

taglist: @lalalandofive @wild-rose-35 @theynothem @angelism13

[nebuladreamerrr]

Hands of healing| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

REQUEST: "Can I have some fluff where reader comes home from getting her nails and toes done so when she comes home the house is all quiet so she looks for Kylian and he’s in bed sleeping and notices his feet out of the covers so she decides to play mischief as she can’t resist to tickle him, poking his soles, scratching his arches and playing with his toes until he wakes up all annoyed and she bes all like “well who’s gonna compliment me” so she shows him her nails and toes done so he tickles her back as payback please💗"

Summary: Kylian has always aimed to win at everything, but y/n has set out to beat him in this tickle battle. Will she be able to do it?

Warnings: English is not my first language, and it includes feet kink

They had been long months, and little by little you had stopped prioritizing those small habits that could relax you in your day-to-day life in order to keep up with your routine.

Stress had become a constant in your life, something you had accepted living with from the moment you took the job, knowing it would come with certain demands. However, over the years, you had managed to discover some techniques that allowed you to relax and remember that everything was going to be okay.

One of your favorite methods to relax was to prepare a romantic dinner with Kylian at home. Although on numerous occasions you both had dressed up to go out and dine at some luxurious Parisian restaurant with excellent reviews, deep down you preferred to stay home. Together, you would help each other prepare dinner, which frequently ended in a fun flour fight. Once you finished, you opened a bottle of champagne to toast to your achievements and future endeavors. While watching a series and dining, you caught up on how your day had gone. At the end of the night, Kylian would usually take the opportunity to culminate the evening with a more intimate union, sealing the love you both felt for each other.

On many other occasions, due to the young player's hectic schedules, you had to find ways to unwind when you were alone. This often included going out shopping at a new boutique you had discovered, meeting up with friends and family, or visiting Kylian's family. But above all, you usually prioritized your aesthetics.

For you, it was a whole ritual to go to the hairdresser and beauty salon. From time to time, you treated yourself to relaxing massages and never skipped your manicure and pedicure sessions. These small moments of self-care helped you stay centered and recharge your energy to face daily stress.

Additionally, sometimes you treated yourself to a full spa day, with sauna, Turkish bath, and facial treatments. You even accompanied these sessions with a good book or listening to your favorite music, which transported you to a state of absolute relaxation.

You had also learned to meditate and practice yoga, two activities that, although difficult at first, had now become essential for your well-being. These practices helped you find balance and maintain calm amidst the daily whirlwind.

So today had been the day to put an end to that period where you had stopped prioritizing yourself, and you finally went back to getting your nails done. You loved the whole process: from the preliminary step of trying to choose the best color while the manicurist showed you the new shades that had arrived, to the moment you saw how delicately she filed your nails to shape and prepare them for painting. You couldn't forget the subsequent massage she gave you, which always left you with a feeling of deep relaxation. Moreover, so many nail sessions had made the manicurist and you very close, and whenever you saw each other, you caught up with enthusiasm.

You were very excited to show Kylian the new nail color you had chosen: "bougainvillea." You had chosen that color remembering how, a week ago, he had praised a dress in that same shade you had seen while walking hand in hand, saying that color would suit you very well.

With that excitement in mind, you decided to put the keys in the car and drive while listening to the new songs you had recently discovered. The music filled the vehicle and made you smile, anticipating Kylian's surprise when he saw your nails.

However, your excitement began to gradually fade as you arrived home and noticed everything was very quiet. There was no noise, and the curtains in your bedroom were drawn. With utmost stealth, you made your way to your room to check what was going on. When you opened the door, you saw Kylian resting face down, with his hand wrapped around the pillow. You watched as his muscles seemed to relax in rhythm with his breathing.

The scene melted your heart. You approached carefully and sat on the edge of the bed, watching him for a few moments. You felt grateful to have someone like him in your life, someone who supported you and made you feel loved.

Seizing this moment, you sat beside him and, with a gentle gesture, stroked his hair. Although he didn’t wake up, a small sigh of contentment escaped his lips. Touched by Kylian’s soft reactions, you turned your gaze to find your bag and reach for your phone, intending to take a photo. That’s when you noticed his feet were uncovered, and a much better idea crossed your mind.

You tried to hold back, convincing yourself that Kylian surely needed his rest, but in the end, you decided to follow this sudden thought, recalling how he used to do this to tease you. So, with great stealth, you got up and approached his feet, starting to gently tickle them. You began by playing with his toes, moving them softly and slipping your fingers between the arches. Kylian stirred a bit in bed, but continued to sleep, so you decided it was time to put your real plan into action.

After a few more massages between his toes, you decided to tickle the soles of his feet. Unable to withstand the tickling, Kylian wiggled so restlessly that he almost kicked you. Annoyed, he let out a grumble and opened his eyes slightly to see who was disturbing his wonderful sleep. Upon opening his eyes, he saw you with a playful expression, although you tried to look annoyed, showing off your nails.

"It looks like no one is going to compliment my nails today," you said with a tone of feigned indignation.

With a soft laugh, Kylian replied, "Darling, they look great, but you could have woken me up without tickling me. I almost kicked your cute face."

"Very funny! But well, you can’t do anything about it now. I’m leaving you here to rest," you said, trying to pull away.

"Not a chance," Kylian retorted, quickly getting up to scoop you into his arms and put you back on the bed, knowing what was about to happen. Kylian wanted revenge and was going to give you the same treatment.

He quickly started tickling you, tracing his fingers all around the soles of your feet. The room was soon filled with your laughter, which triggered Kylian’s contagious laughter. While he couldn’t stop laughing knowing his girlfriend was now getting the revenge she deserved, he couldn’t help but think about how soft your feet were and how sensitive they were to his touch.

Taking advantage of this, he grabbed a soft feather and began to stroke all the curves and arches of your feet, running the feather around your toes. You felt a surge of intense sensations and twisted even more, laughing uncontrollably.

“No, Kylian, that tickles even more!” you yelled through your laughter, trying unsuccessfully to pull your feet away.

“Oh, really?” Kylian said with a mischievous grin. “Then I’ll keep going a little longer.” The feather glided smoothly, causing a mix of laughter and desperation.

After a while, both of you were exhausted from laughing. Kylian finally stopped tickling and lay down beside you, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’m sorry, darling, but I couldn’t resist,” he said, kissing you on the forehead. “Your feet are just irresistible.”

“Don’t worry,” you replied, still smiling. “It was fun, though definitely unexpected.”

Kylian looked at you with affection. “I love you, you know? These moments with you are what make everything worthwhile.”

“And I love you,” you said, snuggling closer to him. “Thanks for always making me laugh, even when I don’t expect it.”

You both stayed there, enjoying the tranquility and closeness of the moment. Despite the jokes and tickling, you knew that the love and respect you had for each other were what truly mattered.

[medra-gonbites]

Baldur's Gate 3 Companion Head Canon Music Edition

Ok soooo ! Recently my bestfriend and I wrote and composed a song about BG3 (which we might release one day) and it got me thinking about the Tadfools (as if I don’t already think of them 15 times a day) and imagined what their band would look like and which instruments they would play and thus voilà my rendition:

Karlach | Drums

Look at her and tell me she does not play the drums. She would sometimes have to be asked to stop because she would not notice everyone has stopped playing but her. She just has the proper energy, rhythm, not to mention arms, to rock that drum set and start a solo Whiplash style.

Lae'zel | Harmonica

“What is this shiny rectangle? “whistle metallically” Oh. This sounds… beautiful. Like the screeching of a blade on a sharpening stone, but… Better!” And that’s how Lae’zel picked up on the harmonica, true story, I was the harmonica!

Wyll | Main Vocal and Violin

Yes, Wyll would absolutely sing and dance and become an icon on the Sword Coast. He also plays the violin. I don’t know, maybe it’s the horns, but I could also see Duke Ravengard enrolling him at conservatoire at age 6 to play the violin. He writes most of the lyrics

Shadowheart | Bass and Back-up Vocals

Shadowheart is a bass player. Look at her smoky eyes and her pout: she obviously plays the bass! She matches her nail polish to the colour of her bass (black, purple, white). She is always down to jam and she also provides Wyll with beautiful back up vocals when he needs it. Her timber is quite ethereal as well.

Astarion | Electric Guitar

Astarion has massive rockstar energy. He did try to play with his teeth on more than one occasion but that breaks the strings. He has several guitars, guitar straps, dedicated stage outfits and hundreds of guitar picks (which he does not even use but hoards like a dragon).

Gale | Synthesizer

Gale is a piano player but why constrain himself to a regular piano when he can make it sound like space music. Or any other instrument really. Fender Rhodes with a distortion and reverb to the max? Yes, please. He tried the keytar and while he does like the funkiness of it, he prefers the horizontality of regular synthesizers. I also believe he’d compose a lot of the songs.

Now for the one who are not part of the band but do play an instrument:

Minthara | Band Manager

Sorry I do not see Minthara as a musician. She’d be an amazing band manager or music producer though. If I must attribute her an instrument I would say the harp as she canonically has a lute but I imagine the discipline it takes to learn the harp is quite in character and would be a funny contrast; the angelic sound it makes, opposed to… Well, Minthara.

Halsin | Bansuri

And he made it himself from bamboo or wood. He plays it during his session of guided meditation or when he is alone in the forest. Usually attracts dozens of critters and little animals and it makes him look like a Disney princess (Although he has never seen a Disney film himself.)

Jaheira | Steel Drum

She learned during her hippie phase in college back when she would travel to Puerto Rico and/or Jamaica twice a year. She still has her old steel drum and will take it out if you nag her long enough or if she is in a celebratory mood. She might play it at your LuAu themed birthday party if requested.

Minsc | Triangle

It is the only instrument that he can play. It looks relatively simplistic but it is actually quite tricky to play as it requires great timing and a little bit of technique. Minsc is a natural at both. He likes being part of an orchestra and finds the agitated man with a stick the funniest of all people.

Boo | Church Organ

I have no argument to justify this but the hilarious image of a miniature giant space hamster playing the phantom of the opera on a huge cathedral organ. 

Gortash | Acoustic Guitar (but not really)

Gortash will claim he plays guitar. He will claim it even faster if he is flirting (approximately 2 minutes into the conversation and/or maybe before even asking your name). He, however, does not. What he can do is play one song (wonderwall or alleluia take your pick) that he learned by heart back in highschool specifically to brag at parties and bag dates. In adulthood it works way less.

[bluelocksource]

Gagamaru Gin’s trivia (source: twt & Egoist Bible 1 & 2).

"Let’s score one more goal and turn things around." (EB1)

"Jump! Nerve transmission—my super reaction!!" (EB2)

☆ Character's colour: Silver white.

☆ Weapons:

肉弾戦 (nikudansen) = figuratively means an activity involving large amounts of physical contact, especially in sports. (EB1) Full-body spring, super reaction. (EB2)

☆ Birthday: 2nd January.

☆ Current age: 18 17 (3rd year of high school)

☆ Zodiac: Capricorn.

☆ Hometown: Wakayama prefecture.

☆ Visual acuity: 6.0

☆ Current height: 191 cm.

☆ Foot size: 30 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: ? (not aware)

☆ Blood type: O.

☆ Motto: "Natural form." (In his own theory, it means "accept the way you are and live according to your heart")

☆ Team before joining BLUE LOCK: Yasei High School football club.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 12.

☆ Favorite food: Meat. "Especially raw meat."

☆ Disliked food: Bento from the convenience store. "Because it contains preservatives and chemical seasoning."

☆ Favorite animal: Bear. ”I’m acquainted with the local mountain bears. Do you want me to introduce you to them?”

☆ Favorite season: “I like all of them because you could see the mountains and forests’ natural beauty in each season.”

☆ Favorite football player: Gareth Bale.

☆ Favorite song: He likes listening to a band called ‘Southern All Stars’.

☆ Favorite anime: Higanjima, NARUTO, BASTARD!! – Destructive God of Darkness, Tenshi na Konamaiki (Cheeky Angel), Fire Punch, KarakuriCircus, Tekkonkinkreet, Yamikin Ushijima-kun, Gin to Kin, Dorohedoro, Dandadan, and many more.

☆ Hobby: Reading manga.

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: Bamboo. "If you don’t pluck out the bamboo shoots right away, it’ll grow quickly. And I grow mushrooms at home…. Eh.. You didn’t mean the actual thing?" (he didn’t know the question was referring to the chocolates.

☆ What goes best with rice : "Wild boar meat. The one I hunted. Let’s give it a try, everyone!”

☆ Magazine he often reads: Young Magazine, Jump, Young Jump, Big Comic Spirits, and Weekly Shonen Magazine

☆ Ideal type: Cameron Diaz.

☆ What makes him upset: Animal cruelty. "I will become your opponent."

☆ What he think his strength is: His own physical ability, eyesight and hearing.

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: Machine illiterate, and doesn’t understand people’s feelings.

☆ Best subject: P.E. (been liking it since his 5th year of elementary school).

☆ Dislike/weak subject: Other than P.E.

☆ Usual sleeping time: 8 hours. "I’m embodying the proverb: ‘A well-slept child is a well-kept child.’"

(meaning: A child who sleeps well is a sign of good health and grows up strong.)

☆ What he usually ends up buying from convenience store: Young and Jump magazines.

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: Hair roots. ”Because that is where wild animals’ odour lingers.”

☆ Fixation: Physical beauty (both humans and animals).

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: He’ll return the money.

☆ How he spent his holiday: Meditating in a bamboo grove and conversing with mountain animals.

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: " I’ll just zone out in the mountains."

☆ Favorite historical figure: "Osamu Tezuka. Because he was the one who started manga."

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: "Engaging in outdoor activities. Living in nature, reading manga, doing my business, and sleeping."

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: Manga. "I can handle survival. I love deserted islands."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The future. "I want to know if my favorite mountain still exists in the future. If it looks like it might disappear, I’ll stop it. After all, I’m the keeper."

Last updated: 31/10/2024

* The crossed words are the changes made from twitter’s answer to the answer from Egoist Bible.

note: i want to apologize if there is any mistake!

[foulbearobservation]

I had a garbage day, so please allow me to share some hcs about what video games the ot4 likes:

Beatrice loves Tetris. It's close to meditation for her. Simple but intricate, sacrifices made now for greater gain later....it's quite common for one of the others to have to gently pull her out of an hours long Tetris trance

Lilith enjoys tactical rpgs (if you've ever played the Disgaea series, I'm thinking specifically of those games). She likes planning her strategies, exploiting enemy weaknesses, and loves sitting back after hitting execute on her commands and watching her opponents fall like dominoes. She can get very, Very attached to her created characters, and has been known to go on a vengeance spree if one of them is killed

Ava enjoys any game where she can cause chaos. She flips between those all-star brawl games (the kind where Arya Stark can punch Scooby-Doo in the face), and open world games where she can piss off the cops then take off in a fast car. She also has a deep love for NES era Mario games; all they had at the orphanage was a donated NES, and Diego would play it for hours while Ava coached him through the levels

Camila loves a good story in her game. She tore through the new tomb raider trilogy and has replayed all of them at least 3 times. Her favourite is the first one, and she can often be found perched in a tree, hunting and admiring the view.

They love to play multi-player games together. Any Lego game goes well, but Portal 2 can only be played if Bea is one of the players, and Goldeneye was straight up banned after a round ended in actual bloodshed

⏹️

Beatrice loving Tetris is so fucking real!! I also think she would love card games like she would go so hard for legends of runeterra in my heart. She likes the strategy and adjustments and quick matches like she's a card game nerd at her core (I think she would like magic the gathering but she doesn't like having to take up physical space with her collections so she sticks to the digital tcg's)

May I also suggest. Ava and Lilith as both fighting game stans but ava likes the unserious ones while Lilith plays Tekken with like. A deathly level of seriousness. They're not allowed to play smash bros. ever.

[morganyevans]

Kingston After Dark: The Body/Head connection (backup of my interview from 2019)

1991: The Year Punk Broke was pretty much my almost daily afternoon home video consumption in high school after cutting class and taking acid during the day.

I cannot understate how much the classic noise-rock and grunge-era tour documentary meant to me and opened my mind, heart and ears to a lifetime of appreciating bands with edge, passion and a feminist streak, not to mention the joy of seeing Sonic Youth’s Kim Gordon clowning around with Kurt Cobain.

I never thought decades later I would get a chance to talk to Gordon myself. Her fabulous noise landscape painting band Body/Head (with fellow guitarist Bill Nace) has a sophomore record called The Switch out on indie giants Matador Records as of July 13. It is an unromanticized-yet-meditative collection of moody guitar swells and poetic fragments as well as an excellent boundary-pushing follow-up to their 2013 debut Coming Apart and 2016 live album No Waves.

It was a genuine pleasure for myself and my partner Elizabeth Gomez (a.k.a. psych folk singer Globelamp) to interview Kim and Bill before their upcoming BSP Kingston back room theater appearance on Friday, July 20.

Morgan Evans: BSP is a great, non-corporate venue that has grown out of community love and involvement. How did you end up stopping here?

Bill Nace: Someone offered for us to play there and it fit into our routing. I don’t know much about Kingston. I saw Television once. My friend Angel [Deradoorian] opened. There is a poet, Ben Estes, who actually used to live with Kim who I think lives up there now and runs a publishing imprint called The Song Cave. Is Grasshopper from Mercury Rev still there?

Morgan: Yeah, he’s my friend! I am hoping he will do a song with me on my next Walking Bombs album. Kim, I wanted to know if you saw The Center Will Not Hold documentary on Netflix about Joan Didion. I know you mentioned her in your memoir, Girl in a Band. Did you like it?

Kim Gordon: I did. I thought it was pretty fluffy, but I liked learning she would get up in the morning and wear her dark glasses to have a Pepsi for breakfast.

Morgan: I remember that part! It was amazing! Your music in Body/Head is so expansive. There is a lot of debate right now about visibility and why music called “experimental” is often given that category when it is made by white people and not by other races. Everyone can experience things in a unique way, even through a pop song. What was some formative music that made you start to dissect music in a different way and opened your mind? Your records are kind of an experience rather than someone performing a genre.

Bill Nace: That’s a big one. I think experimental is such a weird phrase. We are not experimenting. We know what we are doing. Experimental is like a word that is seen in contrast with pop music. I never feel like I am commenting on pop music or trying to deconstruct that. It is more our own thing. Everyone thinks of pop music as the norm but that doesn’t have to really be the case. There are unlimited access points into music.

Elizabeth Gomez: Kim, I’ve been in the music scene only a little bit and have encountered a lot of sexism. I can only imagine how much you have, being such a pillar in the scene for so long. As a rock icon, do you have any advice for women who want to keep focusing on their art and drown that stuff out?

Kim: I would just … play louder [laughing]. It’s no different than anywhere else, the culture. I guess I got used to working from a position as a bass player that was sort of a supportive role, initially. If you are not directly in the limelight you can be more observant about things and kind of … I don’t know. It’s so normal to be in a male dominated society that it’s kind of … I guess my bar of expectations is a little bit low. [Laughs.] Especially right now with a Supreme Court opening and everything. At the same time, you can’t really stop energy. The wrath of millions of women will be really hard to contain if Roe v. Wade gets really fucked with. It’s coming to a head, in a weird way. I hope it’s not coming to a head in like a “the end of the world” way [laughs].

Elizabeth: The bar is kind of low. I know what you mean. Our president is Trump.

Kim: I guess I am used to working with limitations, is what I am saying. I kind of like that, in a way. I make it work for me. By people not expecting certain things from you, you can kind of surprise them.

Morgan: So, the song itself and song title for your track “Change My Brain” jumped out to me. People cry about “fake news” and trolls try to muddy the waters online so people can’t determine facts anymore. It makes gaslighting easier. We all have some cultural biases, but you can just hear a song and it can make you relax or feel unity at times. That piece was strong and has a great crawling tension build. Music can reset our brains sometimes back to a better reality.

Bill: For us, we try to go in and focus and play. We play and then go back to what we have done and a world and thread happens without us trying to steer it. “Change My Brain,” I came up with that name on tour a few years ago as a possible 7-inch title. We had been on tour for awhile and I just felt insane. I think we like titles like that that are really open so the listener and audience are active participants, rather than putting a fine point on anything.

[gender-gaming-and-gears]

I've pulled out my laptop to write this one lol, this'll probably be a longer post.

It started out as an obligation. It's got to be more than 3.5 years ago at this point, but I never lived for myself, I lived for everybody else in my life. And to think this was over a group of shitty friends who I walked my ass back to like a beaten dog, loyal to death in a very literal sense, looking back that person who died was a fool, but it means that I am still alive.

It never stopped being an obligation, but eventually I lived for spite. Getting left for dead by that friend group meant that I had to shape up as a person, meant I knew I had to be better, and if I was going to get fucking kicked out of that stupid friend circle then by the gods was I going to thrive, and I think half of me expected I wouldn't make it more than a week. I did, considering that was roughly 3 years ago.

I think I accidentally stumbled on my own little cure for depression in that short blip, because I found that actually trying to foster new friendships, get a handle on my filter and my actions, and process my emotions made me feel human again, even if it was out of spite. For years I felt like I was heeled at peoples feet, and despite having fallen back into those relationships since then, I realized that getting better was actually possible. The shit side of that epiphany was that I never lived for spite, I was still living for the standards of others.

I've also always been in sport, working hours every day for training and while I've always taken it somewhat too lightly, I took it as an outlet. Not improving for the standards of others, but using others as a ruler for my own standards of myself. If other athletes went some speed up a hill, I wanted to be just a little bit faster up a hill than them, etc. Training hurts like a bitch, but I made it my meditation, because even if the training hurts like hell, it only hurts a little bit each and every moment, and every hour passes a little bit faster. This kind of "meditation," even if it sounds a bit cringe in revising this writing, was something I had to force my brain to ignore somewhat, since most people (including myself) normally don't just seek out pain because it's fun. Not only is it somewhat meditative, but training for a sport is a very distilled version of chasing your goals, since there's an active hierarchy for how well you're doing, and like pursuing any goal it takes days on days of working for little moments that all add up.

Living for myself actually started with me going a little bit crazy (as well as one ex who taught me that I could be worthy of love, and that genshin players aren't all unshowered (jokes ofc)), and that was with crazy talk was between myself and the mirror. Joy above, I was talking to myself in the mirror. All jokes asides, it helped me get more in touch with myself, talking through my emotions, feeling and seeing the pain and joy splayed against my face, and it reduced all of my unfiltered and scattered thoughts into one stream of unprocessed trauma to talk about in my mirror stained with the remnants of hard water. The rest of that mirror talk was the cliché stuff, giving myself compliments and trying my hardest to believe what I was saying, trying to talk through what I thought I did well each day and thinking of how I could improve, etc. Trying to tell myself I deserved forgiveness and deserved to value and claim my life as my own was impossible, but you can't just talk to your reflection and get past that kind of trauma.

What helped me figure out how to live for myself and live for my future was to just start fucking around. I got closer to friends, wallowed in my own sadness, played video games shamelessly and without having "earned it" from a days work, kicked rocks in back alleys, read good fanfiction, processed my transition goals, and had fun. I hooked up, I hurt people, and the lesson I tried to take away from all of those times wasn't only a reflection on who I am, but first and foremost how I tried. I raced hard, trained harder, and didn't earn a single medal for my entire competition season last year, and I realized I needed to train harder, I saw the reflection in the effort of my training. Most importantly, I did the things I wanted because that's what I wanted to live for. I didn't slog through hours upon hours of social studies homework, mainly because it was in French, but also because I didn't want to do it, and I knew I'd pass better than a 50% with the grades I had, and I knew that if I tried to force myself to break my back over Shakespeare in the mental condition I was in, I'd have probably jumped back to the mental space I was in during paragraph 2.

My trauma started as my motivation to get better, but eventually it became a different but equally driving motivator to heal. My training helped me learn the effort and drive required of me to improve and progress in what I choose, and it taught me that healing would be hard, suck balls, and be long, but the time would pass anyways. My fucking around showed me what made life worth living, showed me the boons of my survival, and it was also fun to play my funny block game :]

This bit of personal brain vomit is deeeeeefinitely all over the place, but I hope it helped :]]]]] TL;DR: First I learned to improve myself, then I realized I couldn't just improve myself for others, then I realized I needed to force my brain to improve for my own sake, then I learned to listen to myself, then I realized I actually need to live the life I wanted to live, and not live as a husk of myself.

I'm very sorry to ask something like this, I've really been struggling with this question, and I wanted to ask the combined wisdom of the people on this site

I would like to know why you keep going, and what drives you to keep living. I know there are a lot of reasons to stay alive and enjoy life, I can think of a few that personally resonate with me, but I really want to know what your reasons are

You do not have to comment on this if that's too big of an ask, and I'm very sorry for asking something like this, I really need someone's help, I feel like I don't have much purpose

Also if I may ask, please don't post any suicidal ideation in the comments of this post, I really can't handle something like that right now

[aprayerforclarity]

10/18 - Ace of Cups Reversed

Meditating just now I realized there can be two major ways that the practices I do change the effects of the action. The original way I practiced meditation is through total sensory deprivation. This way, I blindfolded myself and put in ear plugs. It is a very radical way of practicing meditation. Immediately, once choosing to tune into your thoughts, they swirl and swirl around in an almost overwhelming manner. Not that it feels bad, it just feels pretty chaotic. I view it as a way of checking in on my thoughts. I do not judge them, or seek to do anything about them. I do not try to change them or silence them in any way. I just let them flow. In a way it is fairly uncomfortable, and not exactly fun. I feel that sometimes I may turn away from meditating this way. I've been trying to work on my willpower and mind control, an making myself do this practice, but honestly it just becomes a bit of a thing I unconciously try to avoid now.

Just now I practiced

I'm thirsty, I'm going into the other room to grab a glass of water and then I'll be back to finish this thought.

As an additional example of how I feel like I have some form of ADD, while I was gone to get a glass of water I cooked and ate a steak. Then I answered my texts messages and made an appointment with a friend.

Anyways, I've now done a couple of meditations with audio playing. I don't think guided meditations sound very appealing to me at all, but frequencies are appealing. I've been playing the album Trilogie De La Mort by Eliane Radigue. I remember my old friend Lyndsey saying she had a transcendental sexual experience with herself when she listened to it back when we lived in Keezletown.

I've found that with frequencies playing, my mediations seem to have a different effect. I still close my eyes and actively sit. My thoughts still come bubbling up, and just as them seem to materialize in my head they are drowned out by the droning frequencies of the music. I found that this kind of sound meditation is good for smoothing the mind and diffusing my swirling mind. Its good for resetting my mind for clarity and improved cognition, like resetting the cache in a browser or on a computer. I seem to really like this and I'm curious to continue practicing in this way. Perhaps combining the two could be very powerful.

Anyways, as far as other things that are currently on my mind is the new Atlus RPG, Metaphor: Refantazio. This game has absolutely consumed me. This game made me realize again my true love and enchantment JRPGs have over me. Of course the fantasy world is pretty compelling, dealing with themes of capitalism, racism, injustice and fully realizing the different sides of yourself. But what I really love it the combat.

I'm realizing how much I love planning things out and synergizing characters abilities to maximize whatever outcome I'm looking for. Like many Atlus games, there's a time management element that overarches the whole experience. In this game, a week consists of 5 days. Each day consists of two timeframes, morning and evening. You have free reign to run around, shop for items, talk to people and accumulate requests, and build social bonds with various teammates and supporting characters. There's a weather component in the world, and on bad weather days, you lose certain battle abilities when exploring dungeons. The game just sets up systems where players have to be strategic when deciding what activities they're planning to do during their days.

It is just so much fun. I really really love all the layers to the game. The storytelling, the combat, the characters and the world all have so much to them, sometimes to the point of being slightly overwhelming. It's well known that Atlus games are very dialogue heavy, and I will admit I have been skipping some dialogues or character comments during certain points in the game. However, the most recent plot point that happens actually kept my interest, and even moved me. It even scared me and provoked thoughts about losing a child and what that can do to a parent. This game just keeps unfolding and surprising me at every point, in the most satisfying of ways.

As far as the combat goes, I would have to say this game has my favorite of all the Atlus games I've played. They've made a lot of improvements to the combat systems, like including turn order numbers and turn counters. It's a slight but substantial tweak on how landing critical or weakness hits on enemies rewards you, and it encourages flexibility and better strategizing.

I'm playing this game on Hard mode, and it's completely satisfying me. What I like about playing games on Harder modes is that, in order to be successful, you need all the leverages and advantages you can get. You achieve these by fully implementing all the game mechanics to your favor, which requires more thought and satisfying maneuvering. It adds real variety to the game that keeps it engaging.

It's very inspiring to me and makes me want to make a game like this. I've actually already starting, using Cursor code visualizer and Monogame's C# game framework. I went with that framework because it's free, open source, cross platform, and of course Eric Barone used it to make Stardew Valley. I'm looking forward to continuing to experiment with it, but I still know very little about major development concepts. I need to ask questions about it, but to be honest I've been so consumed by Metaphor and unmotivated because of the upcoming holiday chaos. For now, I don't really care. I'm going to continue playing Metaphor and enjoying it to it's fully extent before I go away to Florida! I'm hoping to work on it in some downtime there and over the holidays, but we'll see about all that!!! :)

[tuwasduwillst]

I Finished Veilguard (Spoilers Version)

This is my spoilery Veilguard post! And also my screenshot dumping post, because I didn't want to have to worry about spoilers when I have an entire game worth of screenshots to share (I meant to make more posts while I was playing, but I wanted to finish before I had to go back to work, so I was on a time limit... and Firefox has been crashing my PC lately, so I had to keep it closed while I was playing u_u).

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

I have no idea where to even start.

Like I said in the other post, I really enjoyed the game. I've been waiting almost a decade for some of these plot threads to get resolved, or have literally anything done with them, and now it's over.

I played as a Mourn Watch elf, romancing Lucanis, with an Inquisitor that romanced Solas and vowed to save him.

And it was a great first playthrough! I loved my faction, I loved that I got to react to all of the elf stuff as an elf without any "What's Mythal?" moments*, and I absolutely loved what ended up happening with Solas and the Inquisitor in my playthrough. I expected nothing, maybe a throwaway line at most, but there was so much more than that.

(* speaking of this, it was funny to me how much elven Lavellan used while speaking to Solas. Making up for the past, I see. :P (Though she uses a fair amount in Trespasser as well, I suppose.))

The game was gorgeous, IMO, especially when it came to textures and lighting. I'm so glad a BioWare game finally has good hair, it's like a miracle.

I can't think of much I didn't enjoy, in the end, especially when thinking about the game as a whole. I do think it's too bad there's a forced sacrifice, I guess, but IMO that's necessary sometimes, unfortunately. I'm not sure how poorly everything could go because I got the "best" ending; I might experiment with it eventually, especially if it's needed for achievements.

I think the companion quests were pretty good, and I enjoyed the ones where you're just hanging out with a companion somewhere. Sometimes they got a little overwhelming? But that's probably because I was pushing myself to finish the game before I had to go back to work, at least partially.

Rook is a fun protagonist, IMO; a good balance between Hawke and the Inquisitor. I'm not sure how "same-y" Rooks will feel between playthroughs, but hopefully there's enough of a difference with tonal options that it doesn't feel like I'm playing the same character over and over again...?

My biggest criticism about Rook (and kind of the start of the game) is that I really wish they would have allowed players to play through The Incident that got them sent away from their factions for a while. It would've been a good intro to the factions and game mechanics, a good intro to Rook meeting Varric, and then you could've had a time skip to where the game starts now. It also would've provided the space for some of the roleplaying decisions you make in the meditation room in the Lighthouse, if they wanted.

That said! Rook grew on me very quickly, and I'm genuinely sad to leave them behind now. I would love at least one DLC or something, but I know that BioWare has said they've got everyone working on the next Mass Effect now... :( And I love Mass Effect, don't get me wrong! But I really love Dragon Age.

Like I said above, I don't know how poorly things can go in the ending, so maybe that complicates things too. The more variables you add, the more you have to account for when it comes to DLC, which means more time and money spent. The game coming out at all is a miracle, so hoping for more might just be greedy at this point. (Still going to hope, though...)

I read the comics and read through Tevinter Nights/the site's short stories, so I picked up on all of the cameo appearances. I think my favourites were Antoine and Evka (they made Antoine so cute), Teia, and Myrna, appearance-wise! I was happy to see Viago as well, but for some reason I imagined him being a little heavier?? So seeing him skinny was a bit of a shock to me haha.

I thought it was a bit weird sometimes to be making life decisions for the companions, but overall I was happy with my decisions. I was torn about the one for Emmrich, because my Rook could've gone either way... but eventually I went with the more emotional option rather than the straightforwardly intellectual one (my Rook is a compassionate, peppy, goth nerd (without the goth clothing options sob)).

I only felt bad about one decision I made... but I would have felt bad either way for that one, so... RIP me I guess. Well, actually, I felt bad about two decisions and both of them were ones I would've felt bad about either way haha (but one would've also locked me out of my Lucanis romance, which is obviously unacceptable).

The Lucanis romance was something that I loved, but definitely wished there was a little more to. Not enough to be upset about it, but... I feel like I'll definitely be glad it was my first romance once I do another playthrough, judging by comments I've heard. Even just one more scene between acknowledging that Rook was interested and them being together would've been fine, IMO! Or after them getting together but before the other stuff, I don't know.

In the end they're super cute together so I don't really care too much, it's just something that I noticed while playing. I'm definitely hoping there'll be fanfic to fill in some blanks... or I might have to actually write something myself (unlikely, but not impossible).

To be honest, there were some moments during Crow quests too where I thought Lucanis would speak up for sure and he just... didn't, so I'm not sure what's up with that, either. Bugged companion responses? Nothing written for some reason? Maybe he was half-asleep and Spite was bored. Who knows, I guess. (Again, though, overall I really enjoyed Lucanis and his romance.)

I loved the wing thing in his romance scene. Very cute.

Look at the cute smile on his face as he looks at Rook 😭Augh they're adorable, I just wish there was more... maybe I'll have to commission something. Probably them cuddling and drinking coffee or Lucanis napping on Rook's lap or something, idk. Something cute, more than likely. (If you know of any artists that might be interested and has comms open, let me know. >_>)

Getting sidetracked, oops...

I enjoyed all of the companions; if I had to pick a least favourite, it would probably be either Davrin or Taash. I enjoyed them both still! But the former has the problem of griffons being nearly his entire identity, and the latter has the problem of their... well, identity being nearly their entire identity. There's enough other stuff there that I don't dislike them, but in comparison to the others I just felt they weren't as interesting, personally.

I'm hoping that maybe their romances will add more to them...? But we'll see.

I swear I had more specific things to say, but I can't remember them at all, so I guess I'll end things here! I'm happy to answer any questions anyone might have, with spoilers or as spoiler-free as I can make it, and I guess now I've got to decide what to do next.

[lovethewayyoudoso]

Hobbies

Fun little blurb about the boys fairly early in their relationship.

~1200 words (2 pages)

-

“What do you do for fun? You know, those days you’re not either across the world at a tradeshow or at some fancy party.” Toshiya rolled his basketball on the ground between his feet. He was taking a break, sitting on the pavement with his arms behind him to prop himself up. Yellow sleeveless gymshirt over mid-thigh red shorts, both red socks recently tugged back up over his ankles before they were lost in his tried-and-true sneakers. His hair was pushed back off his sweaty forehead, a recently emptied water bottle nearby. He looked over Rosaire with contented eyes, happy to visit with his man if only for a short while.

Rosaire found himself kneeling nearby, his briefcase fallen over and sunglasses tucked on his shirt collar. He was in a fine charcoal suit, his shirt and tie both different shades of blue. It was a particularly masculine look that was completely betrayed by his designer boots and the fine, custom jewelery adorning his neck and ears. Even the little speck of a piercing on his nose had been swapped from the usual gold for a small blue gemstone. “Other than go out with you?” Full lips smirked, eyebrows rising.

“Well, that’s a full time hobby for sure… but…” He tilted his chin up with a smug little smile, as if beckoning for a little peck of a kiss that never came. Instead Rosaire grabbed hold of one of Toshiya’s shoulders and gave him a squeeze before letting his hand trail down to rest on a delightfully swollen bicep.

“I don’t have much time these days… I guess I mostly just hang out on social media.” He paused and looked over the other man. “I suppose I’ve never really had any hobbies that weren’t some form of socializing.”

“Really? No art or sports--”

“Do I look like I play sports?”

“Well,” Toshiya reached up with his opposite hand and laid thick fingers on the fine ones that held his arm. “You’d probably make a good tennis player, golfer… gymnast? I’ve seen the way you can bend…”

“Toshiya…”

Another cheeky smile. “Video games?”

“When would I have the time?”

“Card games or board games or-- ooh, what about tabletop games?”

“No, no, and definitely no.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe we need to try something new together? Is there anything you’ve ever wanted to try? I could show you how to play ball! I’m not very good at shooting though, more of a defense player…”

Rosaire chuckled as he checked his watch, “Can you imagine me trying to throw a ball all the way up there?” He nodded toward the half-court’s hoop. “I think I’d dislocated a shoulder in the process of aiming.”

“Oh, come on…”

“And I don’t have much of an eye for the arts, to answer your earlier question. I tried writing and painting at various points in my life on the advice of my therapist and I kind of feel like it made things worse.”

“Isn’t art supposed to be subjective? Or an outlet for your emotions? It’s not supposed to be perfect afterall!”

“Toshiya, I went to mix the blue and the green to make teal and I somehow ended up with brown. Pretty sure the canvas was going to catch fire if I kept at it long enough…”

A small chuckle and Toshiya propped an ankle on his basketball to prevent it from escaping. He leaned over and far more directly gestured for a small kiss. “I can teach you calligraphy. I do that, you know?”

“Do you now?” The hint was taken and the pair joined briefly at the lips.

“Oh yeah! Takes a steady hand but it’s… you know, meditation.”

“Hmm,” he looked down at his watch one more time. “You know, I … actually do have one hobby.” Blue eyes looked back up to catch black-brown eyes watched him with a small blush on his cheeks. “But…”

“But..?”

Sigh. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I would never. As long as it’s not stamp collecting.”

“... It’s philately.”

“… what?”

"Stamp collecting."

A light chuckle but Toshiya realized the other was being serious. “Really?”

“Really. It’s quite the impressive collection, I must say.”

“I… you’re going to have to show me this collection next time I’m over.”

“So you can laugh at it?” Rosaire stood up and tidied his suit, finding his briefcase once more and dusting it off. Right behind him was Toshiya rising to his feet. He looked far more serious now, definitely trying his best not to chuckle in disbelief.

“No, I want to see it! I mean, you know, I was joking when I said that, but if that’s really your hobby then I want to check it out!” He pushed his hair back over his head once more, adjusting himself before putting both hands on his man’s shoulders, sliding down his arms to coax his hands into a loving grasp. “Do you really have to go already?”

“I do; I’m sure Louissant is getting antsy to leave for the airport.”

Toshiya sighed and leaned down to provide a kiss, and another. They had already said their formal goodbye the night before but the men just had to visit once more before yet another multi-day business trip took Rosaire away. “I’m serious, Ros. Show me your collection when you get home, and I’ll bring over my portfolio of calligraphy!”

“You have a portfolio? For what purpose?” Long brown braids hung over one shoulder as Rosaire tilted his head with a smirk, receiving another small kiss.

“I wanted to start a video channel about it. You know, on YouTube! But you know me, I don't know how any of those things work online… I gave up before I started.”

“Mmm, well, when I get back we can share those, hmm?”

“After we share a little something else…” Another kiss, pulled into an embrace for a final farewell. Rosare looked up at his man with a little smirk, which was given the reply of playfully raised eyebrows. “I’ll miss the way you look at me when I’m being embarassing.”

“Let me know when I need to send a selfie with that exact expression.”

“You’ll use up all your data!”

Rosaire chuckled and offered one last kiss and, “I’ll see you in a few days, Toshiya,” before he slipped on his sunglasses and departed for where his gleaming white car was waiting. A little wave, and blown kiss from the court up to the car, and once the shorter man was gone Toshiya turned around and retrieved his basketball.

A few dribbles and he shook his head, “Stamp collecting?” He shot at the hoop and completely missed.

-

[theloniousbach]

COUCH TOUR: SHAKTI (ZAKIR HUSSAIN and JOHN McLAUGHLIN with Ganesh Rajagopalan, Shankar Mahadevan, Selvaganesh Vinayakram) with JOHN SCOFIELD, RYMAN AUDITORIUM, 31 AUGUST 2023

Let’s hear it for streaming and in this case Peter Shapiro’s Capitol Theater operation for putting this one up. Much as I appreciated John McLaughlin’s acoustic turn after the Mahavishnu Orchestra and, even then, being intrigued by Indian music, I did not get into Shakti. They are a big deal but I doubt I would have gone to see them.

But a stream and the chance for a music meditation on a momentous day with lots to process seemed like a good way to spend the evening of the last day of my day job.

It was.

The unexpected bonus was JOHN SCOFIELD doing a 45 minute solo set with loops and such. He was on the bill and somehow I imagined, jazz like, he’d sit in for guitar fireworks with JOHN McLAUGHLIN. Instead, Scofield sat down and played used a pick and fingerpicked things that were generally song and, at the Ryman, evoked a little bit his album of country tunes and his Hudson work with Jack DeJohnette. Not any of the Hudson songs but he did The Times They Are A-Changing and Julia off The Beatles’ White Album. Blue in Green was in there with lots of effects deployed, well, effectively. The final medley started with The Derry Air/Danny Boy and included a pop song and then some twang. I have heard Scofield on his own projects but also in jam bands situations with Warren Haynes and Phil Lesh. Then he surprised me with an effective set with Bill Charlap as part of 92NY’s Jazz in July. Then this.

Then SHAKTI. McLaughlin played electric, not acoustic, sometimes with midi effects. He was sitting down so it wasn’t pedals but he did have a laptop. He is a remarkable player to be sure and I’m thrilled to have seen Mahavishnu blow the roof off Hoch Auditorium in Lawrence, Kansas, in 1973 or 4. But, overall, I appreciated him more than liked him. Miles on Jack Johnson probably got him to play more directly. Even here it’s too cerebral. Indian music is wonderfully complex and he can hang with these masters, especially ZAKIR HUSSAIN. But they have it organically, witness an extended solo by the other percussionist Selvahaganesh Vinayakram on a small frame drum with some of the wonderful Konnokol vocals that are superficially like scat singing. Everyone else confidently found the one in the complex rhythms, something like 17 or 25, with two pulses working with and against one another. McLaughlin found it most of the time, but he was tentative.

So actually Hussain—who is part of Mickey Hart’s Planet Drum though I haven’t seen him with that, more with Dave Holland and Chris Potter—who is the magnetic force. Clearly he has big ears and drives the fusion. Those rhythms and watching them happen live was well worth it. The Konnokol is certainly part of that. Ganesh Rajagopalan is the primary vocalist and he has range, power (there was one very sustained note), and amazing rhythmic deftness, but they all can add this form of scat/mouth music that adds layers. Shankar Mehadavan’s violin, held more vertically and not tucked under his chin, matched McLaughlin in the unison sections while being its own evocative solo voice.

I am not heading back to the McLaughlin recordings nor the Shakti nor Zakir Hussain discography. But let’s do hear it for the streams that made it reasonable to see this music at a particularly apt and opportune time.

[independentartistbuzz]

Indie 5-0 with Saint Luminus

The list of professional guitarists who had to completely relearn to play their instrument is a short one: jazz guitarist Pat Martino comes to mind, as does former Danzig guitarist John Christ. You can add to that distinguished shortlist electro space-rock guitarist, Saint Luminus. 

As his earthling name, William Rustrum, the instrumental guitarist-composer reached dizzying shred heights. Formerly, he fronted the premier Megadeth tribute, Hangar 18, and earned the opportunity to perform the thrash titan’s daunting back catalog with actual Megadeth band members. But after his 15-year thrash metal sojourn, the Los Angeles-based artist saw his physical playing ability crumble, and he had to start from scratch on the instrument.

Today, he’s as dexterous as ever, but he uses his technique in service of bringing the meditative sounds of the Universe and progressive rock together in one harmonious sonic experience. His sublimely melodic instrumental compositions have been called “cosmic vacations” due to their otherworldly majesty. Saint Luminus songs glow with dreamy atmospherics, tasteful passages of lyrical shred, and musical motifs that exude a bluesy longing reminiscent of Pink Floyd’s David Gilmour.

We got a chance to speak with Saint Luminus about his new song “Cosmic Courier” and his musical career. So, let’s dive in:

Congratulations on the release of "Cosmic Courier"! Can you tell us a bit about the inspiration behind the track and what it means to you personally? Well I started listening to chill lo-fi tracks because they had such an interesting vibe and they tend to use more extravagant jazzy chords. Then I started improvising over them and then sharing videos of my improvising to these tracks on social media. Surprisingly, lots of people commented on how they enjoyed the "Smooth jams". So why not make my own version. My intent was really to take the listener on a ride through our amazing Universe. I wanted to try something unexpected because most people know me as a Rock guitar player. Now the reaction from people has been very meaningful. I gott comments telling me how this was playlist material for slow and chill jams. Others told me how it made them feel things just by listening. To be able to produce music which affects people like that has been eye opening and rewarding. I sense there is a hunger for this type of music.

"Cosmic Courier" blends rock guitar with ambient textures and lush soundscapes, creating a dreamy and otherworldly vibe. How did you approach combining these elements to create such a unique sonic experience? I absolutely love good soundtracks for film and television. Today's modern soundtracks have so many textures and soundscapes which really create a vibe for what's happening onscreen. I always felt that the only thing missing is a guitar melody, unique riffage, and a killer solo. My approach is to start by writing a good old fashioned rock song with different sections and to have a guitar melody. BUT, the song has to be produced with lots of synths, soundscapes, echoes, verb. I entrusted my producer Troy Dexter to help develop my idea into reality. I don't want it to sound like a typical rock song. I want it to be a journey with a lot of unexpected surprises. In other words, I wanted to make music sound different.

As a guitarist, you have had an interesting journey, having to completely relearn to play the instrument. Can you share with us the challenges you faced and how you overcame them to reach the level of skill and dexterity you have today? Oh man, I could go on for days about this. The first challenge was having to quit the Megadeth Tribute band I was in. And I couldn't even join any bands or doing anything because I was solely focused on relearning all over again. Watching friends continue to play out live, and seeing all sorts of new guitar players pop up and doing their thing while I was doing very slow exercises, was maddening. I wasn't getting any younger. I wanted to be out there playing. One way I dealt with it was that I was still teaching music. So I was still involved in music making which was fulfilling. I had also gotten into Triathlon, the workouts and races were adventures and accomplishments. That helped keep my mind off a lot of my guitar frustration. But most importantly, watching my journey was eye opening. Though frustrated, I couldn't wait to see what would happen each day I picked up and practiced. I discovered things I never noticed in my many years of playing and going to music school. WOW!

With your background in thrash metal, what led you to transition to the electro space rock genre? How do you incorporate elements from different genres into your music while still maintaining your unique sound? Oh that's a damn good question. This arose out of my time relearning the guitar. I started hearing tones and expression I never had before from myself. I started to understand how the guitar greats were able to express themselves so freely on the instrument. Previously I thought of myself as a leader of a thrash metal group, and I play solos too. But to start to think of myself as a guitar player who uses the guitar as his singing voice in the vein of Joe Satriani, Gilmour, Santana, and more? That was mind-blowing, and I had to rethink who I was and what I had to offer.

So what do I love the most? I love Rock. I love soundtracks with electronic and spacey vibes. I really dig some electronic music, I also love the Astronomy, Cosmology, and everything outer space related. So I combined electronic music, with Space Rock, and rock in general. That's how I came up with the niche Electro Space Rock, because I don't know what else to call it. In simple terms its just rock, however, lol.

You have mentioned the influence of guitarists like David Gilmour and Joe Satriani on your playing style. How do you incorporate their expressive melodic approach into your music, and what other artists or genres have influenced your sound? Let's start with Satch. I can't shred lines like he can, though I do try. However Joe has a wonderful sense of melody & expression, and that is what I try to put in my music. I analyze the harmonic structure of his songs, write them down. And I transcribe his melodies and usually say to myself, "Oh? What a wonderful idea!" I'll then twist it around and manipulate the basic idea to give it a fresh sound.

Gilmour doesn't shred and that's so fascinating to me as he is considered one of the greatest rock guitarists of all time. We have Satch, Vai, Guthrie Govan, Marty Friedman, etc etc. And yet Gilmour is always near the top when it comes to guitar players. Just like Joe, I analyzed the harmonic structure of Pink Floyd songs, and then transcribed his solos. He makes great note choices, but those little subtleties in how he approaches the note are what make him unique. I try to incorporate his way of approaching the notes. But I also use a lot of effects for my solos in that same vein in order to take the listener for a ride. Gilmour is so damn good at taking the listener for a ride.

Lastly other influences include Carlos Santana, Marty Friedman, and Albert King. And the electronic artist I absolutely love is Tycho. His work in developing soundscapes with real acoustic instruments, and fun grooves, is amazing.

[charlengs]

“Zero Gravity”

Written by: Charlie Ruiz

Anyone has the right to choose their wants and hobbies. People are free to express themselves how they do the best and what's best for others. In my own experience, my life recently is like an hourglass, you can repeat the best moment but it's not the same as one.

Being present is a cornerstone of mindfulness and meditation. You must have often heard that staying in the moment helps you appreciate your surroundings, connects you with people and nature, and allows you to feel whatever emotions you must feel without anxiety. 

Life is like a Siw-saw, sometimes you go up and sometimes you go down but this moment gives me a lot of lessons to prove what is my worth, what skills I have and to show my sportsmanship to others. For me this year, one of my best remarkable moments is The 2022-2023 School Intramurals held in our school. As a part of our team, the Point/Shooting guard of HUMSS basketball, I focused on what's the best for us, chemistry, team calculation and giving hype for my team helps them to catch up to prove what skills they have.

Basketball is a very complex sport that takes me many years to fully grasp the Complete concept of. Basketball is for anyone who is willing to get a little physical, for you are running up and down the court with ten other players while playing defense and offense. There are just a few things you need to focus on when starting off. These include, dribbling, passing, shooting, and defense. You need to learn the rules and regulations in the game as well. Not only that, but, Always be in triple threat position, meaning you have your elbows out and you are balanced. This assures that the ball is protected and you are in the position to either pass, shoot or dribble.

Our first game was a little bit challenging for me. As a part of the starting five of the team, I am distracted.A lot of crowds and there are a lot of people who have high expectations of us. But our team captain tells me to focus and make my shots perfect.

First half of the game was too challenging for me, a lot of errors and turnovers, But I challenged myself,I told myself to play the best and deal with my Insecurities to prove I am worthy for this game. As we enter the second half of the game, my Inside thoughts gain full energy, "I  think this is it, this is my play, this is your play Charlie." 

Perimeter shots, lay-ups and free throws help my team to lead the game.  The chemistry we built is incredible.

A last minute of the 4th quarter, I call out my teammates to call a timeout because I think I am done for this game, Winning moment for me in this game is a crucial, after I saw the results of the game, I honestly bit nervous not because of the crowd, it's about the second game that we need to face the super team for me.

Second game was hard for me, I know my teammates are already exhausted but I am thankful to Lan, Ozzy and Ino who gave me confidence, who cheered me up and told me to focus on the championship game.

As the game started, the other team led the game, I blamed myself for three straight turnovers, that's why I called timeout. I stood up for my team to gain momentum. At this moment I need to bring a hype for my team to catch them up. Four minutes into the game, I took the corner of the court and shot a three point shot that gave us hope to split and break their game. Second quarter entry is a domination, a kind of game that broke their momentum and took us the lead. Super crucial, exhausted and a bit frustrating moment every turnovers I made.

However, in the second half, things began to change.

The game became more physical and tensions began to rise. With only a few minutes left on the game, the score was tied and pressure was mounting. It was during this critical moment that the perimeter shooter and a defensive player suffered a knee injury.

A bad turnovers, landings, I awkwardly pushed my knee and immediately went down because of the game, timeout called and seizure started. This is my biggest fear, I have a lot of self doubts, having this moment is very hard for me . It's a history for me, I have inside thoughts that I will blame myself if we lose this game. A full third quarter kills me, a pain, lock of knee and seizure hits me.

I am thankful because my teachers helped me to calm down and Zyrah, one of the clinic interns and also my classmate assisted me. After a few minutes, I decided to go outside, I think I can play, I think I know I can help them, I need to help them. I was stunned, I wanted to enter the game but my teachers didn't let me in. 

Despite the Injury, the game continued and as a bench player as of now, I cheered for them, I pushed them and shouted that this game is for us, coaching them and giving them confidence. A moment of silence for us when Pantino took the three point shot and took us back the momentum,  a crowd got wild and cheered our strand.

In this moment, I gave them my big support and full trust, I know they can do it, we can do it.  The moment the final buzzer sounded  and the team erupted in celebration, my Injury didn't stop me from joining them on the court and celebrating the victory. It was a moment of full joy and triumph, not just the team, but the whole pride of our strand Humanities and Social Sciences.

My injury had a significant impact on me, both physically and mentally. I am unable to play the game I loved 

and I was uncertain about my future in basketball. But I didn't let my injury define me. After the games I played, I chose to go to East avenue to check up and have an X-ray. I know this is an ACL, and I'm not wrong, a mild ACL  hits my knee.

Basketball is my happiness, my stress reliever and the court is my safe place. After many years, I got my one of the  biggest dreams, to become a champion, and it was shocking,  not only a Champion, the biggest plot twist of this moment is I am part of the mythical five players.  Honestly, I didn't expect this, some people are shocked because I got this, but for me, I deserve it, I don't need their perspective, giving negative words on me because they are jealous.

Injuries  are an unfortunate reality  of sports, but injury can also be a motivation and inspiration.  If you play after the recovery  you feel the struggle, a little bit nervous. But once you get the right tempo, you will gradually gain strength and confidence. Every moment has a purpose, for me you just need to trust yourself, the process  and always appreciate it. 

The basketball, the championship, the injury  showed me to become a resilient one and also for my co-athletes. Whether it's  pushing through the pain  or fighting back from the injury, the dedication and passion of an athlete never ceases to amaze us. Basketball is more than just a game; it's a testament to the strength of the human spirit.

[osrs-audioworm]

When I was a kid and teenager playing Runescape (2 at the time, I bailed not long after Evolution of Combat came out) I had the typical fascination with the top page of the Hiscores, and while I had grand ambitions I had poor follow through. Compared to now, however, where the game is solved, skilling goals are simply an action of time committed, rather than being insurmountable goals. My long term goal is to max, but I have grown to appreciate the benefit and satisfaction of balance. Firstly because it is nice to have the levels line up. Secondly, because so much of the game unlocks in an interlocked way that corresponding high levels match up. And lastly, the weakest yet most satisfying one is the current arrangement meaning my total level being a lot higher than people would expect for my combat level. At 102 combat, a lot of player are caught off guard by my total level being nearly 2000, especially when I avoid PvM so much due to being terrible at it. After ticking off base-80 earlier in the year, with Hunter being the final level for that goal, I swiftly moved on to base-90. Due to my lack of enjoyment of combat, those skills are always saved for the end of the goal. Given this, I decided that I will work my way down each of the columns, going right to left. With Smithing already being taken care of, with it being the first 99 I got way back when I first started playing again, Mining and Fishing were my first up for level 90. Mining went well, as while not quick, Motherlode Mine is quite meditative for me. And the random ore from the cleaned Pay-Dirt is enough of a Skinner box to keep me plinking away.

This was quite a profitable venture, where after smelting the runite ore into bars, I was able to put together over 22M gp, all of which basically profit. Alongside converting the nuggets into clay packs for a nice little extra bit of profit. I kept a track of all of the ores I received from grinding from 80 to 90 Mining. A further benefit came from me focusing on getting the Falador Elite diary before going down into the mines. Boosting the profits from runite and adamantite, making it a more satisfying grind overall. With Mining crossed off the list, the next step was to get on with Fishing. There are many fast methods to get Fishing experience, and some of these are intently click-intensive. With all of these options available to me, I instead chose to focus on one of the least effective methods: Tempoross. I like skilling bosses, I think mostly because combat bosses are something I suck at. Further, I like skilling bosses that don’t require me to rely on other players, which says a lot about my attitudes while playing a multiplayer online game. So, with my newly acquired infernal harpoon, I set sail for the Ruins of Unkah, and made friends with the Spirit Anglers. Using the solo, no-cook method for experience over points, with a first round skip, I set up for the grind. One of the things that was motivating me towards Tempoross, and later activities, is that I would really quite like a pet at some point. Skilling pets are nice, but the mathematics works out that expecting one before 20-25m experience in each skill, is a pointless hope. It can happen of course, but expecting it is not worth it.  However, with Tempoross, there is a chance of the pet before getting to 99. So, off I went, and slayed the demon of the ocean over and over again. Over the next three weeks I vanquished the foe over 300 times. Not once in that grind did I succumb to the temptation to dip into the reward pool. Statistically, it shouldn’t make a difference, but the delayed gratification would give me a better mental shot at getting the reward. Failing to get the reward over and over would be demoralising. But failing after sitting their for nearly hour fishing rewards only hurts once.

So with all of those points, I went and sat by the pool and fished out rewards for an hour. It was also worth waiting in my mind as I knew somewhere between 80 and 90 the best reward chances odds hit, but I couldn’t remember when and I didn’t care to work it out.  Unfortunately for me, there was no Tiny Tempo to reward my efforts, just 9M gp of rewards. A bitter pill to swallow, when many of the people in the friends chat I frequent have him with less than 100 KC, and I was sitting at more than 500. But, I accepted my poor odds, and promised to return in the future to finally secure the stupid bastard as mine forever.  Next up.... firemaking, woodcutting, and a farming distraction

[writtenbynath]

On Hypnosis, Mesmerism and Energy

Not so long ago, I ranted about what hypnosis can and cannot do. What I haven't talked about in a while is energy. Today, I saw a presentation about mesmerism. And though the presentation was very disappointing, it made me think.

Most people who know me, know that I used to date a guy who was a wizard with energy. He was a lousy hypnotist and he never showed any interest in learning from me to combine the two, so his success at manipulating energy cannot be explained away by calling it suggestion. He showed me that I had a knack for it and encouraged me to become more comfortable with that skill, but I've had little opportunity to practice outside my relationship with him. And I lack the words to theorise about it.

What does this have to do with mesmerism? My previous writing said that mesmerism is a debunked sham. Well… A number of mesmerists out there use Mesmer's old theories to explain how they manipulate energy. What was debunked back in the day was whether this energy was actual magnetism, you know that thing that happens with magnets? It wasn't. That force that I call energy and mesmerists call animal magnetism isn't measurable with scientific instruments afaik.

(tangent: I would be thrilled to see any kind of research where people have tried to measure or analyse reiki or other alternative healing techniques!)

So, what if most mesmerists are not hypnotists who misunderstand magnets by believing in Mesmer's debunked theories, but instead they manipulate energy using techniques developed by mesmerists to help their clients? I would be cool with that. There is a large gray area where nonverbal hypnosis overlaps with meditation and energy manipulation and it's fascinating to talk about that and explore that. I have organised small gatherings about that in the past and I would like to organise roundtables and discussion groups about that in the future.

However in my experience, mesmerists are in general not well-meaning energy healers. I've already written about that a little bit, but the presentation I saw today confirmed a disappointing pattern. You see, when Mesmer claimed that he had discovered how animal magnetism could be used, part of his theory hinged on his own singular ability to harness his powers of attraction through his hypnotic gaze. And a number of contemporary mesmerists, including the man who gave the presentation I saw that sparked this train of thought, believe that they possess extraordinary charismatic powers and that is what they use to put people in trance. And that just sounds like self-aggrandising bullshit.

My understanding of hypnosis and of energy play is that the process is a cooperative effort, that the top and the bottom both have to be skilled and willing for the best results, and that all of it is based on forging a genuine connection between two people, an exchange that can be a beautiful learning experience for both parties. Hypnotists, mesmerists and energy players wouldn't get my hackles up like this is they weren't so fucking patronising towards bottoms.

What hypnosis can and cannot do

On the one hand, I am inclined to reiterate that I don't have all the answers because I'm just a human being in her thirties who only has limited experience. On the other hand, I am a woman on the internet, I probably need to prove that I know what the fuck I'm talking about. So, with that in mind: I am a hypnotherapist who majored in psychology and social sciences, and I teach kinksters about hypnosis and consent.

What hypnosis can do

People often ask me what hypnosis can be used for. They know little about it, they've seen some unlikely things in the media, and they wonder how to separate facts from fiction. The first thing I like to explain is how the American hypnotherapist Dave Elman devoted his life to teaching hypnosis to doctors and dentists. Because hypnosis is a really effective anaesthetic for small procedures, Elman developed a foolproof method that any person who is not even a hypnotist could use to hypnotise a person. It's a sad story really, because despite all of his efforts his method never really caught on, despite the fact that his son continued his legacy and is still teaching hypnosis in the USA today. Medical professionals rarely use hypnosis as an anaesthetic, despite its scientifically proven efficacy. I've still taught some people self-hypnosis to help people relax and feel less pain at the dentist or the tattoo parlor.

But hypnosis can do so much more than that, it's not just about helping you relax. It's an incredible tool that can help you instantly connect ideas and feelings together, which can be used to learn or unlearn habits and behaviours, to overcome fears and to make other positive changes in your life. Hypnosis can for example be a great help for smoking cessation, something that people often struggle with for a long time. Typically, only one hypnotherapy session is needed to help a client to never touch cigarettes again. The same can be done for nail-biting or stress eating, but such things may require a few more in-depth sessions to figure out what is causing this behaviour to continue against the client's wishes and to help resolve internal conflict that may be holding the client back. A hypnotherapist who is also a qualified psychologist can help their clients overcome trauma, unlearn old coping mechanisms that are no longer useful, and learn new ways to deal with their emotions and the challenges life throws at us instead.

But here's where shit gets murky

Psychologists and hypnotherapists work with a person's mind, and we can't see the mind, we can't dissect it or make a map of it. Psychiatry and neurology has taught us many things about the effects of brain chemicals and how the brain works, but it remains difficult to predict what kind of effects a drug designed to help against psychoses or epileptic attacks will have on a patient. We may be able to scan and study the brain, but that doesn't mean we know how the human mind works. Psychologists and hypnotherapists only have models and metaphors to work with. And in my not so humble opinion, hypnotists often seem to forget that the tools we work with are just that: metaphors. The unconscious or subconscious mind? It's a metaphor that helps us understand that a person is not aware of everything that happens in their own mind, it is not a separate entity with a mind of its own. Metaphors are powerful tools when it comes to understanding the world around us. Something as simple as anthropomorphising an object we interact with has a big impact on our behaviour, for example. And another metaphor hypnotherapists often use is regression.

When you're in a hypnotic trance you can use your imagination to vividly visualise metaphors and memories, just as vividly as when you're dreaming. And it can be a helpful therapeutic experience to use this ability to vividly reimagine a moment from our past, to examine our feelings about this moment, to understand why this moment had so much impact on us. We can learn something about what is bothering us, and what we need to overcome our problems. This is why even past life regression and guided meditation journeys can be valuable, cathartic experiences: because they are an exercise in letting our imagination create a metaphor for our struggles, which in turn helps us accept ourselves and be happier. So if you thought I was going to mock people who believe in past lives, you're wrong. The problem is not with people who use hypnotic trance for more spiritual experiences, it is more nuanced.

How human memory works

Regression, like the word hypnosis itself and many other technical terms in the field of hypnosis and neurolinguistic programming, is a misnomer. We don't really return to a moment in our past, we imagine it. The way memories are stored in the brain is not like a computer or a filing cabinet at all, our memories are flawed and biased by our own perceptions and feelings. Every time we recall a memory it changes a little, as if we're not actually remembering the original moment in our life, but the last time we recalled this memory instead. Yet many stories about hypnosis are about retrieving and reliving memories, even though it is simply not humanly possible to use hypnosis to "uncover what truly happened back then", let alone to remember things from our early childhood, or from the womb, or a past life.

The big problem with the dream-like experiences we can have in a hypnotic trance is that they can feel super real, and when we are hypnotised we are extra suggestible. If the person helping you regress to this "memory" tells you with the authority of a therapist this is a real memory it is incredibly believable. What is worse, research by the FBI has shown that creating a false memory is alarmingly easy with certain interrogation techniques. The frequency with which people in relationships gaslight each other also shows that no hypnosis is required to fuck with people's memories. So my point here is: it's good to be incredibly critical of hypnotists who claim to help people remember the past more clearly. Though forensic hypnosis exists, it has never been proven to actually provide accurate information. It is not an effective way to use hypnosis, and it doesn't help with the credibility of hypnosis in general.

Why I as a hypnotherapist curse so much

There are many things that fuck with the credibility of hypnosis in general. Not just people trying to use it in ways that simply don't work, like I just mentioned, but also for example fun stage shows that use hypnosis. It is real hypnosis that a stage hypnotist uses to make people come up on stage and pretend they are a chicken, just to name the most obvious example. And that example doesn't help with our academic image, does it? But you know what really, really fucks with our credibility? "Hypnotists" who never actually hypnotise people.

Two things are at play here. One is the trend where self-help gurus are only out to sell their seminars and make money, instead of actually teaching people how to help themselves. This trend motivates hypnotists to try to sell hypnosis recordings, to the point where it might start to resemble a multi-level marketing scheme, which results in people who sell their services as hypnosis but really they make you listen to a hypnotic script that they didn't even write or adjust to your situation.

The other thing is, and this is probably the reason why Dave Elman's method never caught on (although I'm pretty sure aggressive marketing of anaesthetic drugs also played a role), that in order to hypnotise a person the hypnotist must make an effort to understand how that person thinks. Many famous hypnotists and experts in neurolinguistic programming have developed techniques and models that can help a hypnotist understand how people think. And those techniques and models are often detailed in books they try to push on people because they just really want to make money, which brings us back to my previous point. Many of the techniques in those books may not actually be bullshit. The problem is, again, with the people who treat metaphors as truth, who stick to the script and neglect the fact that therapy is about making a connection with another human being, helping them deal with the struggles of life.

Fucking mesmerism

And this the part where I rail at the charlatans and misguided souls who really ruin the reputation of hypnosis. It started way back when Franz Mesmer thought he had invented energy healing. Although Mesmer's claims about how that works were debunked in the late 1800s, many people still practice mesmerism today. Yes, you read that correctly. The thing with mesmerism is that because the technique is a precursor to hypnosis, it brings the client into a relaxed and suggestible trance, which greatly increases the placebo effect. I would like to point out that I am actually a believer with some knowledge about energy healing. Having studied reiki and some pagan forms of energy manipulation, my not so humble opinion about mesmerism is that it is not only bullshit, it can also be harmful.

Practitioners of mesmerism will often half-heartedly use techniques taken from hypnosis and from energy healing to help their clients become more open and accepting, and then encourage the client to relive the memories that are still bothering them from the past, which has a high risk of retraumatising them. Mesmerists will silently watch their clients resolve the images unfolding in their mind by themselves, without offering the client any new coping mechanisms. Perhaps some people who practice mesmerism are really out to help other people, but for fuck's sake, if you really wanted to help people, do your fucking research and don't place your faith in shit that's been debunked over a hundred years ago! Go with reiki, that is well-documented, well-taught stuff! And there are awesome energy healing traditions from other corners of the world as well, you could learn those! Or here's a radical idea, you could learn how real hypnosis works! I know it's a chore to wade through the self-help gurus who just want to make money selling more NLP seminars, but if I could do it, so can you! Learn some fucking psychology and the dangers of retraumatising a person by making them think about the shit that happened to them in the past!

Ok that's enough for now

Thank you for accompanying me on this train of thought, we have now arrived at our destination. I realise that the end of the ride was a bit rough, but I hope you learned something about hypnosis in practice, and why the reputation of hypnotherapy is so shady. If you're still wondering what kind of hypnosis things I teach to kinksters, that is a topic for another time. I write a lot about hypnosis kink, but my patreon is for smut. If you enjoy hypno smut, have a look at the stories on my Patreon and consider becoming a patron. If you want to talk about what hypnosis can and cannot do, leave a comment.