#why did something so simple and logical become a lost art form

[all-things-jily]

Random musings, but remember how during the ATYD era fans were tagging their posts with "atyd [smth]"? Everyone did that: artists, writers, just fans, the posts would be tagged "atyd marauders" "atyd jily" and so on and it would instantly explain the discrepancies with canon in the post and in hindsight that was such a good practice! I can't believe I used to complain about anything back in those days, we had no idea how good we had it 😂

[whereflowersbloom]

Meet me at the horizon

Damian has spent nearly three hours inside the meeting room of one of the biggest companies of the Eastern Coast, Wayne Enterprises, the silence was strong after several hours discussing the approval of new projects, majority of them Proposed by Timothy Drake. Tim was a genius in Computer Engineering and Technologies, currently working with Lucious Fox. He just graduated and was already making money developing enterprise digital assistance apps and what not for the company. Unfortunately the silence lasted less than two deep breaths as the board directors, shareholders, his siblings and even his own father were exchanging goodbyes and handshakes, scheduling the next meeting already. His father had promised to take Helena shopping with Selina. His adoptive siblings stayed in the meeting room, deciding to have a much-deserved break, to catch up with their daily activities.

Damian frowned unconsciously, his head was throbbing with the surge of scenes in his head. The scenes he was so used to see in his dreams for the last nine months, but the last three months have been assaulting him any moment of the day, especially close to his eldest brother Richard. The meeting seemed to have opened a door to these dreams and this talk about opening an office in Jump city was making it worse. Jump City. He had the vague sensation he’d been there before...

Tim, Richard and Duke seemed to be too busy speaking about the next big game of Gotham Knights, the hockey team, to notice his troubled expression. They mumbled something about asking Jason to slow down from his intense sportbike racer life and watch the game all together. Damian didn’t bother listening to the rest, he was attacked by images of that younger version of himself in some kind of flashy vigilante costume fighting criminals.

“We should go to the game this weekend. The girl I’m seeing now, Kori said she was interested in learning about traditional sports. She’s been in Gotham for six months now. She’s very enthusiastic about cultural learning.” Richard suggested with a wide smile to his siblings completely excited. Eyes like wildfire lit with the spark of life. He hadn’t met Dick’s girlfriend but he looked happier than he’s ever seen him in years.

“Are you joining, D or you’ve got a date?” Duke asked with a teasing tone in his sardonic voice.

Damian did not retribute the smile his adoptive brother gave him, trying to mask his still throbbing head. He looked at him, threatening gaze was a subtle warning. He didn’t know why this was happening that day, but the talk about Jump City and Dick’s new girlfriend were just bringing more of those images. Most of them weren’t good ones. Gory, brutal, bloody. He liked more the ones that seemed to joyful. The ones with that girl.

“He barely seem to have time to meet someone. He’s a workaholic.” it was Tim who answered with an amused smile on his lips, masking an exhausted mien.

“At this pace he’s close enough to become a celibate monk.” Duke joked elbowing Tim lightly, who laughed in response.

“I tried to set him up with some girls, but I almost end up with a broken jaw.” Dick shrugged slightly as he told them with details how Damian had turned down Kara Danvers, Tim’s girlfriend’s best friend. Admittedly she was a nice-looking woman but not the one he desired.

Damian decided to ignore the moronic comments about his love life from his siblings.

Storming out of the meeting room without uttering a single word. They knew nothing about his romantic life. Tsk. A breath of fresh is what he required, lost in consuming thoughts about the girl.

People form the company knew him as the extremely professional boss that run his department with an almost iron fist, he was fair though, accepting the situation of people that worked under him, but he didn’t accept people trying to take advantages or lacking in his services. And he was indeed workaholic.

The media knew him as the ‘Ice Prince of Gotham’, the young heir that was always looking serious, with a cold aura around him, with no type of relationships or scandals so far. He didn’t have the bad boy aura like Jason, ‘chicks’ seemed to dig it as Duke would crudely express. He appeared distant of people out of his inner circle. However, women followed him like bees to flowers in order to collect nectar.

It was just his Wayne charm he couldn’t turn off, regardless of the situation. Like his father, Damian just attracted female attention like a magnet. But no girlfriend. He's had the odd fling here and there but nobody has ever really caught his eye and he's incredibly busy he hasn't the time to feel that maybe he's missing out. Until he saw her.

All his time, attention and passion have been poured into his work. Not that he loved it exactly but he's never been one to do things by halves. Of course he made time to spend quality time with his family, after all, little Helena was barely ten years old. Perky and tireless, too smart for her age if he added. EHis youngest sister.

He was also known in the sports world as one of the most skilled people on the art of the traditional sword fighting and martial arts. He didn’t know where this passion for sword fighting began, although he would bet all his money that it had something to do with his strange recurrent dreams.

 Although his life was satisfactory in his personal view, he always felt as if something was missing. He felt as lonely as the teenager in his dreams when the girl was not around him. She was missing.

Why this bothered him so much, he couldn’t find a logical reason that made any sense. It was just a simple dream, and that girl wasn’t much more than that. A dream. But why he felt that way? That need to look around every time he was in a place full of people hoping to get a glimpse of those shinning amethyst eyes looking at him like she did in his dreams with such profound emotion. Or his necessity to look for her around the world as if he was sure he could find her. She was etched in his bones, buried in down his bronze skin, burning in his chest leaving him out of breath. The images were flooding his mind again. More than absurd dreams, they were a recollection of memories...from a different lifetime perhaps.

They had something briefly, he gathered from the persistent dreams. It was intense, passionate. It was only something he could describe as love. But suddenly they parted ways, forced to be away from the other. They lost contact. The images were so vivid. They felt so real. A first last kiss filled with sorrow, powerlessness, genuine affection. It was carved into his mind until he memorized it. That moment. The warmth and scent of her breath put him in an hypnotic daze. Her lips parted softly, and he could taste faint traces salt from her tears when her soft lips pressed against his. He could feel lightning coursing through his veins, as if his entire world had been set ablaze only lasting seconds. Then it was gone. The ghost of a promise of a second chance. He’d grown tired of waiting for her to appear before his eyes. Every damn second felt like an eternity in itself. With every passing moment, his patience waned a little more and his heart sank a little further.

The haunting pain, endless longing, fear of losing her, the regret of leaving her behind first. They were all real. It was a silent torture.

At first, foolishly he believed these feelings would eventually fade and he would no longer be haunted by her phantom presence. Only memories he thought as he closed his emerald eyes. And her pale, heart-shaped, beautiful face flitted across his mind. Damian had spent his entire life being in control. But every time he met her in his dreams, he seemed to lose his grasp on his emotions, his life, and sometimes, even his destiny. He had to find her.

The wind howling through halls of old memories, piercing through solitude, skin and bone until there’s nothing but heavy emotions and melancholy. Walking with a heart that’s taken too many hits, never too fragile but refusing to be held in the hands of another’s that don’t belong to hers. In his chest remained an ache, a longing for what was or could have been. What he let slip.

“I am sorry we did not have time, Raven.” He mumbled almost in a whisper to nothingness. It felt like a heartfelt apology a thousand years too late. Maybe more or less. A lifetime too late. If their hearts and destiny were entwined surely they would find their back to each other no matter what. Damian carried that hope in his heart, always his constant companion. If He were to walk to the ends of the earth and waited for her on the horizon after the sun has set, would she be there? At the point where the land and sky meets. Could they be together once again?

Raven. The girl. He thought of her during the long hours between dusk and dawn, as he ate dinner alone or read next to the window. She was an ever present fixture in his mind and never more so than today. He considered what he might say to her once he found her, but what rational excuse could he offer to a stranger? He doubted she would find comfort in the ridiculous phrases he might string together about meeting in a past lifetime or those dreams. What if she had them too? If it wasn’t some breathtakingly realistic illusion and she was so where in this city or Jump City or anywhere else looking for him. It was silly to entertain such notions, he knew it well. But that didn’t stop his mind from wandering from time to time when he found a poignant passage of poetry that tugged at his heart, or a new book that fascinated him. She loved books how he knew that, he was not sure. What he wouldn’t give to have long days spent indulging their mutual passion for literature, poetry, history and ancient languages.

He’s been walking around for longer than he imagined, looking at his watch it’s last 6:00 pm. It was out of instinct or some magnetic pull forcing his body to look at the flower shop, whatever universal spirit or energy did it. He was thankful. The shop was tiny, a sliver of space between a cafe and bookstore, and would have disappeared into the surrounding stone and woodwork had it not been for the white and lavender exterior. Eyes quickly scanning surroundings. It was exquisite and untamed, thorny blackberry brambles mingle with fresh citrusy kumquats wrapped languidly around overhanging light fixtures for a wild, yet utterly magnificent and unique look. It had a three-panel glass window boasting an avant-garde display of blush dahlias, blizzard hydrangeas, soft purple lilacs, a mixture of green stems and leaves that balanced everything out. He had been here before but never spotted the shop. The shop was definitely new and if Damian hadn’t known this neighborhood so well, the faint smell of fresh paint would have given it away.

Her hair was a deep navy blue sprinkled with white, like starlight in winter. Her heart-shaped had matured beautifully, moonlight skin. She was a flashing star born with striking surreal violet orbs. She was holding astilbe flowers in white and soft pink. She set the flowers on the counter carefully, her fingers hovering in the space around them, like she wanted to guard them, to protect every petal from the possibility of being crushed. As if they were more than blooms of colour, like there were uniquely cherishable aspects to each one that is not present in the next. He could see that type of caring in her. This was his Raven. This can’t be real, Right? The world wouldn’t be this cruel to him, playing mind tricks on him. She was here. O

Damian thought of every slow-motion, heart-stopping, head-spinning scene in every romance movie or show or novel and how he’d always assumed they were stupid, nothing but rubbish. But here he was standing astonished literally staring at the woman of his dreams. Speak with her. Just hear her low and calming voice. That was all his mind would permit him to focus on, the single-minded determination to see her again.

He moved with driving purpose, his legs propelling him to go inside the little store and tell her everything about his dreams, recollection of old memories. The thought crossed his mind so briefly he scarcely dwelt on it, but that was how it had been for him in the months since dreaming of Raven. His pace slowed as he was stopped by the entrance door, opening it slowly, willing his heart to steady the gallop rhythm of its beats. The sun was shining brightly through the shop’s windows, soft classical music played through the serene and scented atmosphere.

The anticipation rushing through his veins felt like burning his tongue on Earl Grey too hot-tea a chilly rainy day, a dry mouth after sleepless night tossing and turning because other side of his bed looked too empty, trees in the park swayed and shuddered by the afternoon air before lighting fractures the sky and shakes earth, like he’s been waiting a million of breaths for this moment. In his twenty-one years of existence never experienced this wild and frantic emotion.

He swallowed around a very dry throat when he let the door swing shut behind him as his short, hesitant strides brought him directly up to the counter. Now they were face to face. Mustering the courage to say anything. Anything that dint make her think he was insane. But when his gaze met hers. Damian found himself awe-struck by the intensity behind familiar amethyst eyes. The stars couldn’t compare. The world and moon would crumble away. The sun would collapse into itself at this dazzling and glorious constellation that she was. Lilac pools hiding something mystic and ancient in their depth.

She leaned in closer to him in such a natural way, raising her head just to meet his. Her smile was sincere and expectant, pupils blown wide, but they’re focused, dark and determined, nearly drowning out the violet glint of her irises. His lips ached to reach for hers in a hungry kiss but refrained. Speechless, heart pounding in chest, peculiar fluttering sensation in his stomach, waiting for her to speak. Finally she took a deep and long breath before whispering. “Hello Damian. It’s been quite a long time.”

I rewrote this and hope you all like it. I can’t find it in me to update stories right now but have this short prompt. Specially written for @chromium7sky @ravenfan1242 @xaphrin @alerialblu @niahti and all my friends and readers. I’m so sorry some of you have been getting hate but we stand strong and together. 💜❤️❤️🥺🥺

@deep-in-mind67 @kallura-juniblade @bourniebna @timid-soot-sprite @deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @srose-foxfire

[adulttrio-imagines]

42 for Illumi 💕

Prompt: “It’s okay to break.” - “I’m not going to break.”

Kintsugi:  The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold or similar material, highlighting the cracks instead of disguising them

The bowl is beautiful, there was no denying it. After months of waiting, the finished product fits perfectly in your palms, slivers of gold coating the rim and cracked edges of the fine china glimmering brightly under the dim light of your bedroom, starkly contrasting the porcelain white hue and ornate floral designs. Its’s perfect, so perfect that you can almost forgive yourself for breaking it in the first place. You smile, pressing your lips against it, the coolness spreading across your skin.

It almost makes you wonder if you should show this to your…. “Husband” …..

Smile faltering, you pull the bowl away from your face, and stare at the clock ticking ominously above it. You haven’t seen him in a couple weeks, and none of the butlers would even deign you the slightest answer whenever you pepper them with questions. It’s probable they know as little as you do, however unlikely that situation is.

But you know your place. For all the glamourous marble columns and comforts of plush furniture surrounding you, the fact is that the whole setup was nothing more than an elaborate cage, set to separate you from the outside world and chain you down to whatever your owner desired.

You squash the feeling of resentment piling deep in your throat, unconsciously grasping your hand to prevent it from shaking so hard. There is no use in being angry, no point in submerging yourself in that all-consuming feeling of rage that never surmounted to anything more than additional hurt.

The heavy wooden doors to your room open with a loud swing. The lack of tell-tale padding sounds gives way that this could be none other than Illumi. It shuts with a simple click, and nothing happens.

You stop and turn, wondering why he was just standing there, and nearly drop the bowl. Illumi stands at the door, hollow, unmoving, dark substances pouring from the crevices on his face. It’s blood, you realize with a shock. It dribbles down his face sluggishly, pouring out from the angular cuts that cover his face, haphazardly made and extremely painful to look at. But the dark abyss that are his eyes scare you the most. It’s different. Even more so than usual. It’s strange how emptiness is felt, how everything sucked out of the room until you’re left with nothing but beating hearts and sweaty palms. He stays where he is, your breath catches in your throat, and the familiar creeps of fear and dread crawl over your skin, clambering all over your neck and oozing into your brain, you wonder if you’ll survive the night.

“What happened?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

He isn’t entirely there, staring blankly into the space behind you as blood streamed down his cheeks, staining the marble tiles.

“Nothing.” You furrow your brows, standing up, and walk hesitantly towards him. He stiffens when you trace the scars around his face.

“Does it hurt?” Deep cuts that ran all the way down unbroken to his neck lined his face, angry, red and fresh. It’ll require some stitches.

He blinks. “No, I’ve had worse.”

“I’ll patch you up.” You try to guide him towards the dressing table, but he’s rooted to the ground.

Illumi stares at the ceiling with his huge, huge eyes, blinks once, twice, and closes them, shutting himself out of the room. “I am fine.” His tired voice sounds almost strangled, as if something had grabbed him and squeezed every last bit of willpower out of him.

Your heart wrings itself, and despite the thundering voices you hear screaming in your head, you asks,

“What did she do to you?”

He ignores you, and takes mechanical steps towards the dressing table, staining the floor with more blood and collapses into the chair.

“I’m tired.” He mutters tightly, avoiding your question altogether, instead pinching the bridge of his nose as he rests on his elbows.

“Illumi,” He stiffens, just barely noticeable, when you you kneel in front of him, hand on his knee, “please talk to me.”

His stare is unreadable and unfocus, eyes shifting to look at the window behind you, drawn towards an unseen object or person; you wonder, through bated breath, if it’s the same thing that makes him jerk and wake so suddenly in the dead of night.

You wait for what seemed like an eternity, stilling yourself to only the most necessity of breaths, before he finally finds the strength to answer.

“Killu left. Mother is upset. She almost gouged Millu’s eyes out.” He says, unfeeling and avoiding your concern expression.

“Oh.” Kikyo’s theatrics are not unheard of, even five floors above the main chamber. While you’ve never met the woman, you’ve certainly heard her.

“I tried to help.” He continues, fists curled so tightly the skin over his knuckles look as if they would tear apart from the sheer force. He uses your lack of reaction to further his story. That’s how you both communicated. Too much of anything at once and he just broke.

“I’m sure you did your best.” You reply gently, dressing his wound. He lets you do it.

“She got mad that I wasn’t there to stop him.” The blood caking his skin is difficult to remove, and pulls at his porcelains skin when you try to wipe it away.

“You weren’t here.” The needle piercing his skin doesn’t elicit a reaction, as if he doesn’t even know it’s there.

“I should have been.” The bandages easily soak up the remaining blood, splotches of red forming all over and painting them crimson.

“Do you want talk about it?” You carefully dab disinfectant around his skin, it’s cool and smooth to the touch.

“Why would I?” He scoffs, reminding him of the cold man you’ve known him as.

“It’ll help you feel better.” Your reply is small, you withdraw the cotton gauze and uncontrollably shrink into yourself.

“I’m feeling good, thank you.” You smile softly at his lie.

“It’s okay to break.” You tell him.

“I’m not going to break.” 

You stare at the bowl settled on the dressing table, the cracks of gold glinting brightly. “There’s beauty in being broken.”

He shakes his head, hair falling from his bun. “I’m not broken.” He says softly, more so to convince himself that you.

The room is silent excluding the soft humming of the mini fridge that fills it. Hesitantly, you curl two of your fingers around his pinky, becoming all too aware of the heat creeping up your neck when he doesn’t pull away.

“I love you, you know. All of you.” You say before you can stop yourself. Lies and truths intermingled, wrapping themselves into a furious dance, and it was now impossible to differentiate between the two. The words taste bitter and feel foreign in your mouth, but it felt right saying that.

Pale, clammy fingers curl around your wrist, and he gently tugs you into his lap. Knees buckling, your hands resting like weights on his shoulders, the smell of fresh earth and copper brushing against your nose as your forehead presses against his. You stare into the dark abyss swirling behind fluttering lashes, heart coiling into a tight knot.

“Show me. Prove it to me.” His whisper tickles the back of your ear, and you push your quivering lips against his to push the strangled sob that bubbles at the tip of your tongue, tasting the bitter anger and frustration that had been burn into him.

You love him.

His hands trace the curves of your hips, purposeful and possessive as your tongues meet.

You love him not.

He claws at your thigh, humming appreciatively as you groan when they leave pin pricks of blood lining your skin. Your eyes prickle when the force of tears become too much.

You love him.

He reminds you of the orchids blooming in the greenhouse; from the top of his head to the balls of his feet, elegant, graceful and so very, very beautiful. For all his quirks and peculiarities, he is surprisingly adapt at horticulture, pridefully displaying his collection of flowers he tended to during his free time, green thumb strikeout contrasting the blood soaked fingers that reeked of death. Cool strands of inky black tumble past his shoulders like waterfalls and settle easily in your grasp. Beautiful, just as he was the first you ever laid eyes on him. You tug at those locks and gasps at the shoot of pain when he bites down on your lower lip.

You love him not.

He scares you. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you pass out of the sheer terror of being with him. The sneering cool look he has etched permanently behind his mask of indifference. The nights where he has returned back to the prison which is your room, thick with bloodlust and desire, limbs bent into impossible angles as he creeps towards you, eyes maniacally wide and wild, the clawing feeling burning into the back of your throat when your heart nearly tore it’s way out from the depths of his stare.

Despite it all, you remain, standing, waiting, wanting him to stay by your side, even though it tears your mind in half as you rattle your head for this broken logic.

“There’s beauty in everything.” You murmur, cheeks wet with tears. You wanted to believe, desperately clung to the idea that uncontrollable circumstances happened for reasons. It feels almost bittersweet, realizing that the same thing held you both captive here in the mansion. He blinks slowly, the old scars on his face are striking. These new ones won’t be the last, and it’ll be a continual addition to the collection of abuse he has endured. He graces a hand over your cheek, wiping your face with unknown gentleness and cups it. You choke on a sob as you hold him close, the pain, loneliness and despair that had been growing inside your hearts converging, eating away every last defense you had before finally exploding like a ticking time bomb, bursting like a geyser as rest your head on his shoulder, tears streaming down like rivers.

He rest his chin on the top of your head, his heartbeat warm and comforting. He doesn’t understand your hurt, doesn’t understand your pain, doesn’t understand the anger you feel on his behalf, for the years of torture, anger and abuse he’s withstood for years, for being discarded like a broken toy, for being stripped of his worth and value, but you feel it all the same. You hold your tongue, for he would not understand why you hold such feelings, or rather, he chooses not to understand your feelings, for he knows he would crumble to dust if he forces himself to accept the reality he lives in.

You close your eyes, breathing in the comforting scent of pine and fresh dirt as you both remained, curled into each other until the afternoon sun shines high in the ever blue sky, hurting both your eyes.

[vynnyal]

Throwing random thoughts, headcanons, and a variety of pasta at the wall (but only those having to do with vessels and/or their biology this time): The Thrilling Third Installment™

...aka pretending i can be dark and dramatic jskhdfd

Thk's larger form is not the standard, but the exception. Thk was cited as being "raised and trained to prime form", which people take to mean pk assisted in the vessel's natural growth. However, that conclusion leaves a lot of unanswered questions, most important of which being “then what about Ghost?” In short, I think that train of thought is backwards. Vessels can't grow- they are ageless, and immortal. We know this due to Ghost, despite living as long if not longer than thk, being completely unchanged over the years. The only thing pk trained into "prime form" was thk’s mind and fighting prowess. Their body... well, I think it was mutated. Most likely either directly by pk, or ordered by him- and with the shenanigans happening over in the sanctum, I wouldn't be surprised if Soul was involved, too. In any case, it was in no means natural. Vessels are corpses reanimated by void; neither corpses nor void tend to make drastic changes on their own all that often. Whether pk predicted the vessel’s “issues” and intended to manually “upgrade” them from the beginning, it's hard to say. But... yeah. Unless Ghost goes out of their way to make themselves grow- if its even possible, now that pk is gone- its fairly safe to say, they never will.

...with that in mind, we are promptly gonna ignore that for the rest of this post lmaooo

Grown-up vessels wouldn't look like thk; while they are described as being raised into "prime form"... prime form, to whom? Rather than looking like an idealized pk soldier, it sounds much more fitting that they’d have an entirely different, natural adult form. Consider: their cloaks being longer and fuller, perhaps filling out into something with a more practical use to their “species”. Better yet, they could even grow up to be more beast-like. Feral vessels, YEhaW

The black egg temple is cited as being "built to sustain [vessels]", yet it can't be their lifespan that is sustained. Rather, it seems the egg is specifically designed to keep the radiance from tearing thk apart, physically and/or mentally. Ngl its p obvious, but worth noting.

Sorta-au where Ghost’s shade has 8 eyes, and/or is generally all-around more cryptid-looking.

@ the sharpshadow charm and the strange, 6-eyed creature their shade turns into: kudos to this post, they bring up something super interesting- the creature not only resembles the Shade Lord, but the lord outright becomes it during the Embrace the Void cutscene.

makes me respect the ol’ civilization a whole lot more if a single charm can turn a baby shade into a baby lord.

The concept of finding ghosts unconscious body, laying next to a corpse, while they battle in their dreams. Alt: when ghost enters the dream realm, their shade leaves their shell... And protects their body from harm.

If steel soul mode is taken as canon, just how did ghost and the shade meet? Alt: Ghost may never have “met” it at all, as it technically doesn’t exist in that mode- instead, its more of a metaphor than an actual entity.

What the vessels looked like- or were supposed to look like- before the void. Alt: a story following a child, alive and untouched, that somehow managed to be spared. They could even have a gender. Alt alt: the void intentionally spared them for some purpose, or even out of simple kindness- or at least, something that resembles kindness.

Re: the shade inexplicably having a nail: all the vessel's swords are crafted from “will-bearing rock”- of which i’ve come to lovingly call living stone- and as such, are of void themselves. That's how the shade seems to conjure up its own copy; it merely shapes it, from the ground, using void. And, while more of a stretch, Ghost’s nail being some sort of living stone/pale ore alloy could explain just how Ghost can do seemingly pretty crazy things with an otherwise ordinary nail. Better, while 100% a baseless hc, its material might actually enable Ghost to build it up and modify it to suite their size as they grow older. finally, a logical reason adult Ghost has an adult-sized nail-claymore. hdsfghjfghdsjf

On that same thought: Ghost outright invented the "art" of manipulating- or creating- living stone to make their nail. ...gimme a sec. The other escaped vessels have nails, too, right? Either meaning they also discovered this ability... or that theres some legitimate ground for the “vessel gang” hc. Or, yanno, i’m reading too much into Ari’s sprites but sHHhh

How did all the vessels know to race to the top? They seemed to be falling merely because they had just been born and had literal, actual baby strength; yet not only did they inexplicably risk everything competing to the top, they somehow knew death was waiting if they lost. Alt: pk just, bringing a fucking megaphone and telling them like a sports announcer.

What if Ghost made it, and instead of falling, they managed to joined thk at the lip? What would pk do? Push them off the edge??? Or just adopt them both?? Oh fuck au where they're raised as twin sacrifices. Or worse yet, they’re raised unequally, and one is trained only as an afterthought. As a backup.

Alternatively, pk keeps all the vessels au, only a few years later when they're grown. Pk now has a literal army of pure knights. Radiance is fucked.

Hm. If vessels were fully coherent entities from the moment of birth, why was there a crib in the white palace? Did... did they use it? I have a feeling team cherry made that asset before the abyss scene lmaooo alt: they did, uh, use the crib. Cue a very awkward scene of thk, clearly not a normal baby, staring at wl with like... idk, the poofy baby hat and pacifier. I can’t tell if the image is more funny or more sad rn shdfgfjsdgg

The og notes that inspired this post, in case my rambling makes more sense (and w/o the awful comic hjsfgjsdfhj): Oh oh OH i GET it now. The void is all about "will" and whatnot, right? And shades are "fragments of a lingering will"- will, like the one you leave after your death, but instead of inheritance its the vessels' desires...last regrets.... DAMN team cherry, that symbolism is clever as heck. That took me a while. Kinda funny how a will is, technically, a person's last regrets Like I knew they were last regrets but I didn't understand WHY. Duh, it's because they're literally Made Of Will. They are the vessel's "wills". I'm so stupid.

Ghost, walking thru the abyss, getting increasingly fed up / freaked out, ducking into a crack in the wall. They follow the crack into the Scream Chamber, pause, then exhale in relief that this was EXACTLY what they needed.

Ghost's shade rolling up its void-sleeves like “fuck it, ima defeat thk myself”

Why was thk's sword there? Was its pedestal decayed? Did it fall from their body? Was it place there as an afterthought, or hurriedly? alt: taking thk's sword before freeing them, but doing the mom thing like you're grounding them hdhfjchjch

I can’t believe it just occured to me now, but... as objectivley stupid as the vessel’s test was, Ghost... technically came in second place. What if that whole scene was a metaphor? Because really, it’s just too silly to take seriously. To do so isn’t too far fetched, either; many other elements in the game’s story are better taken as symbolic or metaphorical, anyways. Take the PoP cutscene- while it could’ve been a literal moment, where they just happened to find themselves standing around and took the moment to appreciate each other... imo it makes much more sense to read it as the concept of their faint ~forbidden love~ and parental pride itself. Or, better yet, the scene at the end of the 4th pantheon. Sorry, but I severely doubt that was an actual event. What I’m trying to get at is the significance of “second place” in the cutscene. My brain is too fried to chase down any other possible connections to this theme rn (if thats even what the theme is), but even without proof, the theory smooths out a few interesting tidbits related to just how Ghost could tough it out when all others failed. All except for #1, anyway. Either way I’m just happy to take this as an excuse to pretend that cutscene didn’t literally happen because like, l m a o

The story of a small group of vessels as they work together to escape hallownest. (aka the aforementioned vessel gang hc... im sure theres a more formal name but you get the idea). Its impossible to tell how long it took them to discover that near-invisible hole, the last exit remaining after the king ordered the abyss to be sealed up. Once they did, however, the remaining vessels were quick to make a desperate scramble to escape- only for the entrance to suddenly crumble shut, far, far too soon. The remaining 8 slowly made their way through deepnest, their numbers quickly dwindling as the jouney started to take its toll. The group was nearly wiped out by those terrible, spiney-legged creatures that used their own kinship against them. Only three finally escaped the deep, yet only two made it through the basin- the third, largest sibling, left to fight alone againt a hopeless battle, just to buy the others time. It was in greenpath, so close yet so far to their goal, that the second succumbed to the infection. It was a mercy killing, that nail through the heart. The last, after all of that, finally made their way to the very precipice of howling cliffs, hesitating for just a moment to gaze out upon the still-fresh ruins of hallownest. But only for a moment, before Ghost jumps down to begin their journey beyond this wretched place.

A vessel running from its shade as it tirelessly pursues them, the vessel refusing to put it to rest.

tw: suicide, + personal on main

Ugh ugh ugh ugh Either thk was fully conscious and in terrible pain for all those years... or they couldn’t feel anything at all. The former is horrible, but imagining thk waking up, chained, unable to do anything but wait for Ghost to heed their call? Did they turn their nail on themselves to help Ghost, end the pain, or some awful mix of both? For someone who has personally dealt with close friends and family that struggled with suicide themselves, hollowknight is one of the worst horror stories I've ever seen. And the fact that the story is so personal, so open to interpretation? The fact that each character is so genuine yet vague enough to be read completely differently to someone else’s biases? Its why hollow knight- the game, and the character- will forever be one of the most powerful stories to me.

in short, good LORD THIS GAME IS SO FUCKING SAD

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Be Yours (Knight AU) - Chapter Two

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: None that I can think of. Just language

Word Count: 2.7k+

Summary: The dread of not knowing your father’s burden comes crashes down. 

A/N: So the battle between my OC and ‘You’ has been fought. And ‘You’ won! Check out my ao3 for any more news about this story, and I did change my character Robert to Paz since I just realized the opportunity I could’ve seized. 

Chapter One

You found him by the back after the joust, where the castle’s stables were. Your own horse, and beautiful brown mare you named Henry, was next to his, picking at the hay below his feet. 

The lily sat idly by your ear, tangled in your locks. Secretly, you hoped the flower had come from Din, though—logically—you knew it couldn’t have come from him. 

He was gently cleaning his horse off, brushing it’s mane and cooing softly to it. The moment was too intimate and you would’ve turned around had he not caught you. 

“No matter where I turn, you are always right there, in my shadow.” He sighed. 

You smiled and looked down at your feet, careful of the pretty flower and lifting the hems of your dress to walk closer to your horse, stroking his nose.

Din watched you carefully, stiff and unyielding. You took no offense to it now. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose,” you said. “Maybe one day you can teach me.”

“To fight?” Din scoffed, turning back to the white mare. “I didn’t think you to be the type.”

Now you were the one to scoff. “And why is that, hm? Because I am a woman? Women can fight too, you know.”

“I know. And I would never think that, Princess. It’s just…”

You waited patiently, keeping your attention on Henry so you wouldn’t scare him—the man in the heavy armor that is. 

“I do not think your father would appreciate it,” he finally answered. “This kingdom needs a queen, and—”

“Spare me,” you stopped him. “Just tell me the truth.”

Din sighed heavily again. He did that a lot.

“Your father… has made it known. It is too dangerous and he’d rather you stay away from the likes of war.”

You closed your eyes in frustration. Of course it would be your father. 

“It isn’t his business,” you snapped. “And I’ll have you know that I can do whatever the hell I please, so I don’t need my father’s permission to wield a sword, Knight.”

Din tilted his head, taken aback by your sudden outburst. Before you could make any sort of apology—like you were taught to—he stifled a chuckle. 

And it was so small but it radiated like a thousand suns. A thousand suns, blaring bright and proud in this little moment of serenity. You found herself smiling, chuckling and shaking your head at him. 

“Some days it’s hard to believe you’re a princess. You hardly act like it.” He noted. 

You giggled. “You’re not the first to inform me of this,” you said. “And soon enough it will be ‘Queen’.”

“I’m sure you will be a fine one.”

You blushed, turning your face away to cover it. But it quickly turned into a sigh, stepping away from your beloved horse. 

“I’m not sure that’s entirely what I want.”

It was the first time you said it to someone who wasn’t Jules. It slipped out hesitantly, but once the words left you felt better, lighter even. And you trusted Din, not only with your secrets but with your life as well. 

You saw him visibly tense from your peripheral vision. It confused you, but you guessed he was just looking out for you—as he never failed to do—making sure no wandering ears heard your declaration. 

Din cleared his throat, making you fully turn to him. He wasn’t looking at you, still trained on his horse, but he had stopped petting him and had a hunch to his form, like he was bearing more than just the weight of his attire. 

“I do not think it is wise to say such things so loudly.”

He said your name, and it made your stomach drop at the warning held behind it. 

“What —” You cleared your throat to swallow down the lump. “What are you not telling me, Din?”

Before he could say anymore, an echoed voice called out. 

“Of course,” Paz sneered. “The magnificent Din Djarin, the Princess’s little bitch, playing idly while —”

He stopped when he saw you. You smirked inwardly when you saw the way his body stiffened, like he had just been struck by a sword, and imagined he looked just as horrified as he felt. 

“P-princess.” The appointer stuttered. “My apologies, m'lady. I did not realize you were here.”

“Clearly.” You spat out, chin tilted up. “But please, don’t stop at my expense. Finish what you were going to say.”

Paz was becoming uncomfortable and you reveled in it. Din, however, just seemed as though he wanted the whole thing done and over with so he could move on with his day; you didn’t blame him. 

“Go.” You finally ordered. “And do not speak to my guard that way again. Perhaps your silence is more of use to me than your sword.”

He stammered, clearly embarrassed, and prodded away with careful steps. 

You and Din relaxed at the same moment, but now without a word to say to each other. The silence, although, was quite comfortable between you and it felt nice, being able to share it with someone. You suspected Din must have felt the same way, or least appreciated your understanding of his silent personality. 

“What is the deal between the two of you?” You broke the silence. 

He grunted softly, giving you a small, careless shrug. “Childish rivarily, one that I do not particularly care for.”

You hummed, picking at a tiny piece of string of the seam of your gown. “Well, if he continues on, be sure to tell me.”

The armor creaked, background noise to you at that point, as he fully turned towards you, arms hanging like boards at his sides. 

“I can take care of it.” It wasn’t threatening, nor frustrated; just a simple fact. 

“I know.”

He was going to say something else. Your ears perked for it, but another voice—lest wasn’t Paz—tried to entice the void. 

“Princess!” Jules called out. “You're needed by your father at once, the food is ready to be served.”

You grimaced. Your father had terrible timing. 

“Okay.” You murmured, not even sure if she would be able to hear you. 

“Are you going to eat as well?” You asked Din. 

Din shuffled on his feet. “Not yet. Have duties to attend to.”

You smiled softly. “Well, for my sake Din, try the new sauce. I think you’ll like it.”

He gave you a small bow with the tilt of his head as you walked by, brushing against him as you did. You only walked just a short way before stopping, turning your head. 

“May I ask you a question?”

He nodded.

“Don’t suppose you know the kind person who gifted me this flower?” You asked lightly, giving yourself a mental pat at the ability to hide the shyness from your voice. “It was left on my seat before the joust, and I would like to give them a proper thanks.”

“I’m afraid not.” He put out quickly. 

Your excited heart sank, but your expression remained neutral.

“Shame,” you whispered. “Such a lovely flower.”

You walked further away without another glance. You weren’t trying to be rude, you really weren’t, but you didn’t think you had it in you to hide your disappointment; you hated the fact that you had more of a difficult time with Din than anyone else. 

Jules did not say anything as she walked by your side. You were grateful for that; your thoughts too scrambled to form a conversation. 

Why are you so disappointed? You had to have known the flower wasn’t from him. You knew it was dangerous to exploit your dislike of being tied down to the royal rule. You—

It continued on and you wanted to scream.   

Maybe you should, let the whole damn world hear you stupid scream over a silly little crush. 

You were seated by the time you crawled out of your thoughts. Your father made a face at you, wondering with his eyes of the mood you were currently in. You just gave him a one sided shrug and a forced smile. 

The food was delicious. That was something—even lost in your own head—couldn’t deny nor ignore. Especially when you caught eyes with Peter, smiling with glee at the reactions to his sacred art. 

“This is exquisite!” Your father exclaimed, just loudly enough so Peter could hear as well. 

“It is.” You agreed. “We’ll have to have more of it.”

Your father's words blurred into the background again, and you shoved a mouthful of pudding into your mouth when you looked up and spotted him. 

Oh Lord. What is he doing here?

Gerald was part of Colestead’s line of fearless Knights, one that used to remind you of that of a wolf when you watched the rare and few times he participated in any fight of entertainment. 

But despite his ruthless combat skills, it didn’t show in the way he spoke—all soft, kind natured, at least towards you. 

And his presence here, as he leaned towards Din, who had just walked through the threshold of your hall, brought you back to the ship you saw earlier and your father’s words echoed in your head. Your chest tightened as the anxiety—unknown and abrupt to you, the sudden fear behind it that made the room spin—clawed at you.     

“Nothing for you to worry about.”

Do not cause a scene. Do not do anything stupid.

You took a deep breath as you tried to calm yourself. Bringham must have noticed your stance, because he followed your sight until he stiffened. It went away as soon as it appeared, and he took a big swig from his cup. 

“I’m not going to say a word about it.” You assured lowly and quickly. 

He exhaled deeply through his nose, nostrils flaring slightly. But he looked on solemn towards his people, and turned his head to you with understanding in his eyes. 

“You will know. I’ve promised you this before, and have every intention of keeping to it, love.”

You gave him a tired smile and his shoulder a playful pat. You forced your eyes to stay ahead or to the left, but never to the right where that man stood. If you wanted to make it through the last of the festivities without a trick, then you had to do anything to keep your mind distracted. 

Which is why you called Victoria, a pretty young girl around your age, to your seat with a wide smile. 

Victoria was a very beautiful woman; strawberry blonde hair, just slightly longer than yours, hazel eyes and a wicked curve to her grin. It certainly matched her soul. 

Now you never really liked her as a friend, but there were moments where you could hold a decent conversation without wanting to tear her head off. You prayed this would be one of them.

And she happened to be the daughter of your father’s precious friend. 

“Oh,” she said your name, sweetlike. “Such a beautiful day to celebrate! And where is that lovely maiden of yours?”

Jules did not like her either. You wouldn’t put her through that, and besides, you had no idea on where your friend could be; she soon disappeared just shortly after you were seated. 

“Not sure I’m afraid.” You clicked. “But I’ll tell her you said hi.”

Jules would get a kick out of it. 

She hummed, then looked over to that dreadful right, making your eyes twitched. 

“Between you and I,” she said before leaning down to whisper, “I like the White Knight.”

Din. Of course. 

“You are aware that’s my guard you’re talking about.” You grumbled. 

She giggled. “What do you think I’m going to do, Princess? Seduce your little knight away? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Ridiculous? Perhaps. But more likely to be tried? Positively. 

“You’re right. So silly of me.”

Bringham suddenly stood up, clearing his throat and tapping on his mug with a silver spoon. The crowd started to silence themselves as their king awaited patiently, and Victoria gave you a sly wink before slinking back to her seat. 

“Riverhearth has never looked as lively as it does now!” 

There were cheers echoed across the hall, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread your cheeks.

“Enjoy this feast… this moment now. Remember the happy faces and tears of joy you see around yourselves tonight, and keep a tight hold on them, so that they may never fall into darkness.”

They continued to cheer, mouthing praises and going back to their meals as their king, your father, sat down. 

Your father, whose eyes looked more aged than they did that morning. Who looked so much older than he should, holding the weight of whatever secret he was withholding from you. 

And that blood on your fingers, remember those?

The rest of the feast went by quickly afterwards. You were quick to send hugs and waves as everyone settled off to their homes. Bringham escorted you to your room himself, yapping away about fairy tales as you listened; he was drunk again. Perfect for you. 

You waited until midnight hit, and everything was quiet. You put on a small coat and very slowly creaked your bedroom door open, sticking your head out to make sure there were no one around. 

The tiptoes around the halls made you think back to that night, and how quiet he was too to sneak up on you like that. Maybe you were too drunk to notice at the time, but either way there appeared to be no guard in sight. 

“Princess.”

You spoke too soon. 

With a roll of your eyes you turned around to face Din, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Knight.”

“Not surprised to see you about at this time. Again.”

You stifled a smile at the slight irritation in his voice. “Yes. And are you going to drag me back to my room? Again.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he stalked towards you. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I have no quarrels with either.”

Your hard, tough stance faltered and he caught it. “I—.”

“What’s the problem with me wandering around my own home.” You interjected. “And besides, I have… important matters to attend to.”

You berrated yourself for not coming up with a better ploy, but it was too late to take back and Din was still walking towards you. 

“Please.” You pleaded quietly. “Please just let me—I just want to—I saw him talking to you.”

His heavy puff told you that he knew exactly who you were talking about. You prepared yourself for another argument. The seconds, possibly even minutes that passed by fed into the clawing in your chest, the hard grasp to your heart. You closed your eyes and counted your breaths as you slowly inhaled and exhaled. 

“You will not speak of this to anyone. Not even Jules. Do you understand?”

He caught you off guard. Your arms fell loosely by your sides, your expression falling and the rest of your wait breath escaping you with a puff. 

“Okay.” You nodded eagerly. “I promise.”

Din hovered his arm over your shoulder, leading you back to your room. 

“What—.”

“Not out here.” He shushed. 

You walked the rest of the way with another held breath, and you refused to release it until you heard your bedroom door close behind him. 

“There have been… rumors,” Din started. “Wars. Death. Magic even. There are—there is something coming, and Bringham—he’s enlisting Colestead’s aid in the matter, before we’re left defenseless.”

Sit. You have to sit down. 

You padded around behind you until you felt the wood of your headboard against your skin, and sat down on the edge of your bed. 

“Okay.” You whispered. “So—so that means—.”

You weren’t stupid. You were on good terms with Colestead, no problem at all with aid, but you weren’t stupid. You knew what this entitled, or what it could. 

“Yes.” Din confirmed, apologetically even. “James will arrive tomorrow at noon. And they’re—there’s—”

You held up a hand, effectively silencing him. He couldn’t say it, not wanting to push you further over the cliff you were dangerously hanging low from. 

You already knew. 

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[munchies-for-thought]

The reason your favorite character is flawed and how it changed how I saw my life

Jun 18, 2020

Context: I’m a huge fan of the anime “JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure”. (Reading Part 6 pls don’t spoil kthx bai). Don’t worry. You don’t even have to know about anime to get my message. It’s just the example closest to me.

The revelation behind each flaw

Rohan Kishibe is a character that is incredibly talented as a manga artist. He is so obsessed in his craft that he goes to terrifying and ethically questionable extents to get inspiration for his stories. Sometimes a villain, sometimes a hero. His art is everything for him. Well worth risking his or someone else’s life. He is generally a good guy, and wishes good upon the world. He just won’t go out of his way to make it happen. He is also defeated almost immediately after we meet him.

Rohan Kishibe is indeed one of my favorite characters of all times for a multitude of reasons, yet when describing him, he clearly is a flawed character. Yet this is NOT about him. While you read this blog, please think on the coolest fictional character you can think of. Do you have one in mind? Can you answer the following about your favorite character?

Has your favorite character failed?

Has he been hurt badly?

Are some things out of his control?

Do most people in his world generally understand the struggle they go through?

You’ll see when comparing with friends that we mostly agree on these answers even when thinking on different characters. The interesting truth lies in the common factor behind these answers, and learning a bit from the power of good storytelling.

One of the most precious things that I have gained from playing videogames, watching anime and playing Dungeons & Dragons all my life, is the first-hand knowledge of the power of a good story. Although it is in the HOW you make a good story, where I found this revelation that helped me so much.

What I am trying to say might be simple and even obvious when read, but not truly understood. If you bear with me a bit longer, I will attempt not to say, but to explain. I’ll show you the building blocks of how I learned so you truly understand as I did.

Dungeon and Dragons’ Character Backgrounds

The first time I made a new character in Dungeons and Dragons (Drow Elf Bard btw) I was blown away when I found out that whereas you get to pick from options that greatly impact your likelihood of winning, you also had to pick background and personality options that held no significant impact on your success.

You could choose to be a triumphant noble, a devote acolyte, a successful guild merchant or even a lying charlatan. Hell, if you wanted to you could even pick an orphan who had lost it all in the edgiest way known to man!

The book was also quite good at giving you specific quirks that brought that character to life. All of this happened because D&D is focused on group storytelling. Everyone wants your character to be interesting so their adventure gets 10x cooler when their complex characters interact with yours in intriguing and unexpected ways.

For example:

The secret beauty behind flaws

I was just a tad... confused. I had to chose a flaw? Why would I want to do this? All of these options look just like ugly parts of your character’s personality and could easily affect them negatively within the story.

Was this a balancing feature? A rule simply put there to make you less awesome, so no one is too overpowered? I just could NOT wrap my head around it. I couldn’t understand how this could make things fun. They were ruining my character.

It was until I started maturing as an individual and learned more about game design and storytelling that I started to appreciate how genius that was. No one cares for the story of perfect, bland, basic individuals who always succeed and have never made mistakes before. Because that is not real, it doesn’t work for an interesting story if there’s no sadness. If there’s no pain, you can just simply look away.

It was to be expected of the game designers of the best roleplaying game in the world to know that having flaws, failures, challenges, weaknesses, mistakes, all of them are ESSENTIAL for a great story to be told!

Was there a moment in your favorite character’s story where his failures and his pain made you love them on a whole new level? Aren’t those failures what drives your characters to become who they are? Would it be a better story if they had always succeeded?

So who is this Rohan Kishibe and, as an artist, what is his take on good storytelling?

Rohan’s Philosophy

Not only is Rohan a good example of a flawed character, but he also has a very interesting philosophy. He is a famous and wealthy manga artist. You’ve got to understand that, to Rohan, his craft is EVERYTHING. It is the thing he does best and what defines him.

Let me just show you one quote of his, so you understand his artistic philosophy:

“Reality is the energy that breathes life into a piece of work, and reality itself is entertainment. People often think that manga are drawn from imagination and fantasy, but that’s not actually true! For me, drawing something that i’ve experienced, or something that has moved me, is what makes it interesting!”

His pursuit for inspiration is so great, that he constantly goes to insane lengths to gain inspiration. This unrelenting desire is why he was originally a villain. Yet even when the protagonist defeated him, all Rohan could think of was of how this set of unfortunate and unlucky events was within itself a hell of a REAL story to use as inspiration. He saw value even in his misfortune as long as it was honest, untapped, unadulterated and pure reality.  That’s his trade secret as a famous and successful storyteller.

Understanding reality, storytelling and our identity

Warning: We’re about to get metaphysical. You might wanna take that bong hit right now. You’ve been warned.

Talking about reality is like opening Pandora’s box. It is such a massively complex topic that before we can even get to the nitty-gritty of it, let’s just agree on the following for the sake of this conversation:

Depending on how skeptic you are, reality could be mostly subjective or arbitrarily objective. So just follow my lead on this one and match your understanding with mine at least while you read this blog.

NO ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSES OR REALITIES

Fate is merely the belief that there is a predestined way things will happen no matter what. Since its only requirement is also its only consequence, (which is also impossible to prove) then even thinking on fate is pointless or even harmful to an individual as it removes agency from himself and turns him into a bystander in his own life.

Facts are limited to the provable physical world. If you can’t prove it, you don’t KNOW it is real, but you could still believe it to be real.

Our understanding of ourselves, comes partly from how others perceive us and their own subjective view of reality.

As mere humans we don’t completely control reality, but we control how it affects us.

Your own experiences and passions have a gargantuan influence on your interpretation of reality.

Storytelling could be simplified as “the way in which reality is described”.

Changing how you tell a story doesn’t change the facts.

That last one sounds a bit anticlimactic doesn’t it? Specially since we’ve talked so much about storytelling just to find out it can’t change reality. You might even wonder if its uses are only limited to art?

Fret not! This is where it all starts coming together.

My story

Before you disregard storytelling as just an art form, or an overglorified logbook, let’s think outside of the box and take a few leaps with me. Let me show you when was it that it clicked for me:

“Just when the COVID-19 lockdown was about to begin, I was at one of my lowest. I’ve always been someone very adamant on living life as he sees best. Even when friends or family wouldn’t understand my decision, I would still pursue my own path. I was proud of this and felt it made me immune to what other people thought. Yet, years of failed relationships were starting to make me doubt myself.

After an emotional breakdown at Denny’s after being stood-up (Great story for another day) I started worrying that the problem might be me. I’ve always been open to feedback as long as it makes sense to me in a logical way, but I had built so much thought behind who I was, that I didn’t even consider that maybe, I was more flawed than what I had originally assessed.

Maybe if all these bad things kept happening to me, there was a constant behind it all. Judging by the fact that these happened throughout the span of years and with different people, it was only reasonable to assume I was the only constant. Maybe my relationships, both in love and in friendship, were failing not because of individual and complex reasons, but because I was involved in all of them.

Maybe I just won’t build close friends or a family, but I guess I can still find a way to enjoy life. It’s just a lonely life, a very lonely life, but it’s best to face reality head on. That’s what I have always taught myself, right? It would be foolish not to do so when the answer is an inconvenient one. It’s still reality. Better get used to it I guess.”

Wow, that went to a very dark place didn’t it? It’s crazy looking at it in retrospective, but while it happened, it really felt like that was just the facts. I sucked at friends and love. That was just the cold hard reality to me. I mused:

“It’s like if I was a D&D character with low charisma doomed to suck at social encounters... “

and then a sudden realization froze me to the core...

Even if by mere accident, I ended up thinking of myself as a D&D character. Remember all that talk about flawed characters? Well, what if I would see myself as a flawed character? We already agreed that the best characters fail, struggle, suffer, cry, rage, and they make mistakes!

It’s like I had opened a whole new dimension that brought new light into who I was. Those weren’t horrible memories of things that broke me down and I wish no one would ever find out anymore. Those were just wild chapters on the bizarre adventure that is my life. These are badges of honor of what my very own story is!

Storytellers are already influencing your reality

I won’t stand here and tell you that everything bad happens for a good reason. Please be careful not to take the wrong message out of this. That wasn’t what I realized at that moment. I finally was able to see that there were two storytellers that had been affecting me all my life, and I hadn’t really seen their influence before!

Let me unmask these two powerful beings that through their storytelling, had changed my reality.

Powerful Storyteller #1 - Those close to you

Did you notice how the story that I was listening from my friends and love interests was sounding aggressively negative towards my self-value? I thought I didn’t care but I was indeed interpreting my life through their stories.

Since we already understand that we each have our own interpretation of life, good and wrong, then it’s not that hard for us to understand that we will never fully agree on what’s cool. Some of us love things that most people don’t even understand. So when they talk to you, they are inadvertently telling you a story about how you’re weird, instead of fascinating.

If only you could have friends or people who DID understand you, then maybe the stories about you would be seen in a much more positive light. It’s not your friends fault for not understanding, you were just asking something unreasonable from them.

Get yourself surrounded by those who are weird like you. You’ll notice that for the right crowd, you’re just the coolest person just for being who you are. That feeling is just invigorating in every sense.

Powerful Storyteller #2 - Yourself

Back in my story, you can see how I took a lot of my own “interpretations” as “facts” or even “reality” when I told myself my own story. You could have just as well told my same story but in a different way with a much more positive light:

“My relationships did fail, but that doesn’t necessarily reflect on my self-worth. I can continuously fail but love the fact that I’m the type of character that is still hopeful and positive even after repeatedly failing and suffering pain each time.”

It’s important you understand what makes you cool as a character. Because it is your job to tell yourself the story of who you are, what you’ve done, and who you will be. You have already been doing so for as long as you can remember, so you don’t even notice it anymore. You are STILL, to this day, re-telling yourself your story and changing how you feel about some parts of it.

What can we do about it?

So if you already are in charge of such a crucial and delicate task, why don’t you apply what we’ve learned so far? Can’t you see how you as the audience (from your own storytelling) would feel when seeing your main character in emotional pain? Don’t you feel empathy and love towards it because of all it has struggled?

You have the power to choose whether or not you will tell your story as the sad log of things you suck at, or as the crazy adventures of someone who’s just trying to do their best. Someone who is AWESOME because you do understand why he gets so excited when talking about that thing, and why he is so disappointed that that other thing didn’t work out again.

Those dark painful memories are beautiful crystallizations of true art! You already have what Rohan Kishibe is willing to kill to get. You already have an amazing REAL story, you now just have to use your storytelling skills to make yourself some justice, and talk about yourself like the amazing character you are when you tell that story to yourself next time you go to sleep.

At least when it comes to my story, well, the only reason why I would ever even think of writing a blog this long, is because I’ve changed the way I tell my story. I firmly believe that most people will never even have the opportunity to read this, but I have also seen value in these thoughts even if there’s no one besides myself who will listen to my story. If anything, at least I hope my story helps you love your character a bit more, just how I have learned to truly appreciate mine.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for listening to my story. I would always love to hear yours.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Baby’s First Revenge (Part 2)

Here is part 2 to the story of Charlotte, the girl who gets reincarnated into a baby after being murdered by her only friend. 

Part 1 linked here. 

Hope you guys enjoy!

“Now Sweetie, it’s perfectly normal to be really nervous, but I don’t want you to worry, your dad and I are here for you!”

Trying to have a private conversation was difficult given the loud noise of the room, but Charlotte’s mother tried her best. She leaned closer, smiling reassuringly at her five-year-old daughter, who sat there calmly.

“I’m not nervous.”

“Do you want to play with the other children?” Charlotte’s father suggested hopefully.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t think that’s really the best idea, Dad. After all, they’re my competition.”

The two adults looked over her head, meeting each other’s gazes with a tired sigh. They knew from experience that once their daughter decided something, it was almost impossible to change her mind.

“Do you want to read a book?”

At his words, Charlotte looked up, her tiny smile lighting up her face like a sunrise. He grinned back, feeling certain that his daughter was the most adorable kid in the room… possible ever. She stretched out her small hand towards him and for a moment he thought she wanted to be picked up. He was just leaning over to comply when…

“Newspaper, please.”

…

Charlotte’s dad pulled back, and handed over his newspaper with another sigh.

Charlotte was a special child.

She had always been a good baby, she slept through the night, only crying when she was hungry or needed to be changed, and he had naively thought that since the first part had gone so smoothly, that he was ready for whatever came next.

Not even close.

Once her first birthday came, Charlotte seemed to be an almost different child overnight. She was potty trained within a few days, speaking words, followed by sentences in short order. With the ability to talk she seemed immediately to grasp the art of logic and arguing. Which would have been fine, if she hadn’t been so good at it. As her father he despaired that in the four years since she spoke her first words, he had yet to win a single argument. He was also fairly certain that what they fought about was not what other children fought with their parents about.

“I want a subscription to this magazine.”

“Isn’t that just political and economic articles? How about a book about a puppy?”

“…”

THAT particular comment had earned him one of her well known exasperated looks, the one that always left him feeling slightly childish, followed by a prolonged lecture from his daughter on the importance of staying up to date on current events. He couldn’t even be too upset, after all, it was good that she wanted to learn about the world around her. He just wished that she would go about it in a more normal way for her age. Charlotte’s father was convinced that she was a genius, but their pediatrician just assured him that all new parents felt that way. The doctor’s condescending tone made him grit his teeth, making a mental note that if the young man ever got in an argument with his daughter, he wouldn’t save him. The doctor had clearly brought it on himself.

Despite her peculiarities, He loved her dearly. Charlotte was an affectionate child, often wanting to spend every free moment with her parents, made extremely happy by simple gestures of affection like hugs. When he asked her about it, Charlotte simply shrugged and gave him a sad smile. “There are children all over the world who never get to know what having a parent say ‘I love you’ feels like.” She paused then, giving the impression that she was looking off into the distance at an unpleasant memory. “I love you and mom, and don’t want to take it for granted.”

Charlotte’s father and mother made sure to tell her they loved her every day after that.

But above all, Charlotte was a stubborn child.

“Mom, Dad, I’m going to audition for a part in a movie.” She didn’t seem to be asking permission more than simply notifying them. He had stared at his daughter in shock, unsure of where this sudden desire to act had come from. Fortunately, his wife was faster to respond.

“What movie?”

Charlotte held up a book. “They are adapting the book ‘Searching for Silence’ into a movie.” She smiled cutely. “The screenplay was passed around between a few companies, and got delayed a few years, fortunately, so they are only sending out casting calls now.”

Recovering from his shock, Charlotte’s father cleared his throat. “F-fortunately?”

“Well, if they started filming when they planned to, I would have been too young to play Edith.”

He looked at the book in her hands, recognizing it. It was one of the first books they bought for her, at her request. She had clutched the paperback to her chest at the time, looking both happy and sad to be holding it. She didn’t seem to read it often, but always kept it nearby, as if it was something important to her. Considering all this, it made a little sense that she was interested in being in the movie.

“I understand you’re excited, Sweetie, but it’s not like we can pack up and…”

“It’s being filmed here in town, and the casting call was distributed locally for the children’s parts.”

“Are you sure?”

“…” There was that exasperated look again. Charlotte’s father shook his head.

“…Silly question. When is the audition?”

“Tomorrow, I’ve already submitted all the paperwork.”

His wife knelt down in front of their daughter, her face serious. “This would be a big responsibility, a lot of work. Plus there’s no guarantee that you will get the part even if you audition. Are you sure you want to go?”

Charlotte nodded, her face determined.

“Don’t worry. I am the only one who could properly play Edith. I just have to make them realize it.”

And so they were here, in this waiting room with a crowd of children and their families. An air of anxiety hung around the room, dampening the noise somewhat. Even the parents fidgeted in their seats, having difficulty with the atmosphere.

Well… one person was fine.

Charlotte sat on her chair, her tiny legs dangling off the edge, and calmly read her newspaper, turning the pages with a derisive snort.

“Politicians really are the scum of the earth.”

“…”

Charlotte’s father felt like crying. Was that really something a five-year old girl should be saying? But it wasn’t like he could disagree with her.

As he was deciding whether or not to say something, his daughter stood up, folding her newspaper carefully before heading down the hallway where the auditions were taking place.  Charlotte’s mother reached out a hand.

“You have to wait your turn, sweetie.”

Charlotte gave her the look. “I have to go to the restroom.”

“Oh.”

Seeing his wife nodding quietly, he stood up as well.

“Where are you going?”

He smiled at his daughter’s question. “I’ll walk you to the bathroom.”

Now the look was turned towards him, but the pitying amusement in it was that much more pointed. “Do you really think I’ll get lost on my way to the toilet?”

He wanted to argue, but under the pressure of his daughter’s gaze, he slowly sat back down. She smiled at him, as if the terrible expression she had shown just moments before was simply an illusion. “Thanks, Dad!”

With that she was gone.

He looked over at his wife, who shrugged and said a single sentence. “She takes after you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not.

Charlotte left the bathroom, looking around as she entered the hallway once more. She honestly wanted to take her time. The nervous energy in the waiting room was driving her bonkers. In the eighteen years of her last life, she had been in many horrible tense, even life-threatening situations, so this sort of mild stage fright meant little to her, but that didn’t mean she reveled in other children’s discomfort.

It makes it harder to blend in.

Charlotte knew she was already doing a fairly terrible job of pretending to be a normal child, but she couldn’t help it. A girl could only take so many nursery rhymes and picture books before going crazy. Fortunately, despite her oddities, her parents had remained loving and supportive.

If there’s anything that makes dying in my previous life worth it, it’s having a family in this one. Charlotte smiled as she thought about the loving parents waiting for her in the waiting room. Having someone who cared about you, who protected you, was something she had no experience with.

In my last life, I was always the one doing the protecting. Of course, that rat bastard paid back all the years I cared for him by murdering me.

She cracked her knuckles, her smile turning cruel as she fantasized about punching his face in. She was completely unaware of how odd a small five-year old girl plotting revenge appeared. Fortunately, no one was close enough to see the evil expression formed from her childish features.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” A quiet cry for help echoed down the hallway. Curious, Charlotte peeked around the corner, and was greeted by the sight of a young girl around her age jumping up and down, trying to reach a teddy bear that was being held up by an older boy. Keeping it just out of her reached, the boy chuckled and taunted her. “Why aren’t you grabbing it? I’m trying to give it to you!”

“PLEASE!”

“It’s not my fault you’re so short, wimp!”  

Charlotte watched this scene silently. It wasn’t that she was unused to cruelty. This sort of bullying was tame from what she had faced growing up while trying to protect Peter. IF it was the old her, she wouldn’t have hesitated to jump in and help. Charlotte always had a weak spot for those who couldn’t protect themselves.

But now…

Peter’s smiling face as he watched her die came to mind, and her fists clenched at her sides. She had given up everything to protect someone before, and what had it gotten her? She had become a nameless corpse on the streets before being old enough to legally drink.

Why bother helping people? They’re just going to betray me, just like he did. I’m better off just focusing on my revenge.

That was how she felt...

“Please don’t hurt him!” The girl was sobbing as she tried again to reach the bear, falling to the ground as she lost her balance.

But why couldn’t she just walk away?

Bruce laughed at the girl crying on the ground as he prepared to rip the head off of the stuffed bear. Ignoring her screams, his muscles had just tensed, preparing to start tearing when…

“That’s enough, little boy.” A soft voice called out, and suddenly the world spun around him. Confused, he found himself on his back, with a smiling little girl standing above him, one foot on his chest.

Had she flipped him?

Bruce tried to stand up, but was stopped by the pressure of her foot on his chest. Dropping the bear, he tried to push her foot off of him.

Only to be surprised that he couldn’t budge her at all.

Bruce was 8 years old, and tall for his age. Growing up faster than the children around him, he soon discovered that he could easily pick on the smaller ones without consequence.

Until this girl almost half his size threw him to the ground.

“What are you…”

“SHHH.” The girl gently placed a finger in front of her mouth, motioning him to be quiet. Something about her smile… the look in her eyes… Bruce started feeling scared and fell silent.

“I was going to ignore you, my bullying little friend, but unlucky for you, my parents have done their best to raise me right, and I don’t want to disappoint them in this lifetime.”

She pressed down a little with her foot, making it difficult to breathe. “I’ll let you off easy this time, because you’re a child. But know this: People who pick on the weak are trash. And trash will always be thrown away and destroyed.” Her gaze seemed to pierce through him, making him slightly uncomfortable.

“Do you understand me?”

Bruce nodded silently.

“Good. Now give the girl back her bear and we’ll count this matter as over with.” She let him up, and after blinking in confusion a few times, he picked up the bear and handed it to the crying little girl who hugged it tightly.

Nodding in satisfaction, the scary girl turned to walk away.

“Wait!” Bruce found himself calling out without realizing it. The girl had turned back, making him feel nervous. “What’s your name?”

The girl raised an eyebrow at the question. “Charlotte.”

“C-Can I be your friend?”

“No.” The immediate answer dropped his spirits, and he looked down, disappointed. Why had he been bullying other kids?! Now she hated him.

The girl with the teddy bear stood up, wiping her tears, her face hopeful. “Can I be your friend?”

“No.” Again, a strong reply without hesitation.

Both children were shocked. They had assumed Charlotte had said no to Bruce because he was a bully. But…

“Why?” The girl frowned, looking offended, but Charlotte simply laughed.

“I don’t want to be friends with little kids.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving the two to stare at each other in confusion.

“Is-isn’t she a little kid too?” The girl asked.

The boy shook his head silently, unsure.

She continued on, watching in the direction Charlotte had left in. “She’s so cool!”

Bruce nodded in response.

Charlotte was going the wrong way. Having gotten turned around due to stopping the previous fight, she was unclear of which way she needed to go to get back to the waiting room.

Maybe I should have let Dad walk me. She was about to turn around and walk the way she came, when she overheard another conversation.

“I’m asking YOU so stop avoiding this! You should know her motivations better than anyone!”

Two men were standing in a room, arguing. One she recognized from the press releases as Mark Tottle, an award winning director who and taken on the project. He was the one currently shouting, a few pages of script crumpled in his hand. As for the person he was yelling at…

Charlotte sucked in a startled breath at the sight of the man she hated more than anyone else in the world.

Peter.

He stood there, looking just as he did when she had died, an annoyed expression on his face when as he stood before the furious director.

“I don’t understand the problem, Mark. She’s protecting the other kid. What other motivation does she need?”

The director rolled his eyes, slapping the pages of the script against his palm.

“I’m talking about this line here! The one which is taken word for word from YOUR BOOK by the way.” Placing a finger on a line, he read with a disgruntled expression. “Edith has just saved Jordan, the boy she treats like a brother, and after he thanks her she just stares at him and says two words. ‘If only…’”

Peter shrugged. “So?”

“SO… What the heck is she talking about?! The script doesn’t make it clear what her emotions should be. Is she happy, angry, sad? I need to understand the material to be able to get the right performance out of my actors!”

“How should I know?”

“YOU’RE THE AUTHOR!”

“Why don’t you take that little script of yours and shove it up…”

“She’s regretful.”

Charlotte’s voice was quiet, but it stopped the two men in her tracks.

Peter glared at her, “Little girl, go back with the other children.”

“Wait!” The director held out his hand. “I want to hear about what she has to say.” He knelt down, until the two were eye to eye. “What do you mean regretful?”

“When she says ‘if only’ Edith is wishing things were different. She means ‘If only you had never been born.’ ‘If only you and i had never met, so that you would never have the chance to depend on me.’ She wished he had died with his family, so she could miss him like she misses her parents, instead of him dragging her down.”

“That’s bullshit!” Peter snorted, forgetting his opponent was a small child. “Edith loves Jordan. She would never think something like that.”

Charlotte laughed. How amusing to be lectured about the character she wrote based on herself by the man whom she based the other character off of. He still was so clueless.

“Edith is a strong character, one who loves and protects her friend no matter what it costs her.”

“See… there’s no way…”

“But she isn’t a saint. Or a martyr.” Charlotte continued, her words silencing Peter in his tracks. “She’s human, and it’s human nature to want to be happy, to live an easy life. She has moments where she wishes she didn’t have to sacrifice everything to protect her friend.”

The director nodded slowly. “But she never says…”

“She cares about Jordan, enough to not say out loud what she feels. That’s why she never gets past ‘if only’. She doesn’t want him to know that sometimes she regrets rescuing him.”

“…” The two men stared at her in silence. Peter seemed lost in his own memories, looking at them with a fresh perspective, while the director looked taken aback.

“Where did you hear this?”

I wrote the book. “I read the book over and over until I feel like I know the characters better than myself.”

“Who are you?” He asked, curiosity apparent on his face.

Charlotte grinned, sticking out a hand to shake his much larger one.

“I’m the girl who’s going to play Edith in your movie.”

He smiled back. “Pretty sure that part hasn’t been cast yet.”

“Doesn’t make it not true.”

Laughing quietly, the director straightened up, looking at her with a respectful gaze. “We’ll let the auditions decide. I’m looking forward to seeing what you can do, given your understanding of the character.”

“See you there.” Rather than seeming pressured by his words, Charlotte met his gaze straight on with a confident expression. Shaking his head with a soft sigh, the director walked away slowly, studying the script with new vigor.

Peter and Charlotte were left alone.

Peter stood rooted to the spot, his mind still going over the words of the little girl who stood nearby.

Had she really thought that about me sometimes?

He knew that Charlotte had written the book based on their real lives, but…

She was always so perfect.

Peter had always resented his childhood friend. Always smiling, always brave, never panicked, she was barely a few months older than him, but protected and cared for him better than most adults could have.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” She had smiled and hugged him, even after he caused trouble that forced her to fight and get hurt. It was depressing, why was she so much better than him at everything? Before he knew it, the gratitude he felt for her help was outpaced by the resentment he felt at her ability to handle everything with a smile.

I always wanted to bring her down to my level. And he had. He had finally stripped the smile from her face, made her angry and sad. Right before she died she had worn a wonderful face, one filled with bitterness and regret.

But he had to wonder…

“She isn’t a saint or a martyr.” Had she just been pretending to be okay that whole time for his sake? Struggling just as much as him, but unwilling to show it because she didn’t want him to feel guilty?

It made him uncomfortable to think about.

“Idiot.”

The single word was filled with disgust and hatred. Surprised, Peter looked around, trying to find the source of the insult. The only person nearby was the small child, a sweet looking girl who stared at him with a blank expression.

“Did you just…”

“You heard me.”

It was unnerving, hearing such a cold voice from a little girl. Angry, he leaned over her, trying to be intimidating. “That’s not a very nice word, little girl.”

She raised an eyebrow, seemingly not impressed. “Should I use a better one than? How about imbecile?” She smiled, “Or something like fraud or liar?”

Peter was taken aback, he straightened up, unsure of how to respond.

“What do you…?”

“You didn’t write this book did you?”

Peter felt the blood drain from his face. “That’s ridiculous. How dare you say something like that?”

“Then why don’t you understand your own characters?”

“That’s… I mean… I’m not going to argue with a child!”

“Probably a good plan, given that you’re losing.”

He gritted his teeth at her condescending expression.

“I don’t care what you say. I wrote this book. Now go back to your parents, little girl, before something bad happens to you.” He thought his threats would frighten her, but instead she laughed, causing a chill to run down his spine.

“What are you going to do in this building full of people? All I have to do is scream and they’ll come running. Then how would you explain threatening a five-year-old girl?” She stepped forward, and unconsciously Peter backed away. “Even if you stopped me from screaming, you were the last person to be seen with me, making you the prime suspect, should I disappear. That might tarnish your beautiful reputation.”

“What- what are you?” He was stuttering. She didn’t seem like a child, the way she looked at him… it brought back memories he wanted to forget. Of a girl who had also stood before him, a confident grin on her face. But that girl had been protecting him… this one…

“I’m your worst nightmare.” With that, the little girl waved goodbye, and turned around and walked away. Her mannerisms were so familiar, so haunting, that unconsciously, Peter found himself whispering a name he hadn’t said in years.

“Charlotte.”

“Yes?” The girl paused, smiling. “How did you guess my name?”

No… Peter shook his head, backing away further. “I-I…”

“I’m looking forward to working with you. Let’s talk again.”

She was gone. Peter fell to the ground, his back against a wall, his face breaking out in a cold sweat.

Why did her name have to be Charlotte?

Peter shuddered. I must be cursed.

His eyes narrowing, he slowed his breathing, trying to calm his frantically beating heart. It didn’t matter what her name was. He would just have to make sure she didn’t get picked as the actress playing Edith. It should be easy as the author. He would never have to work with her again.

You’re just a child, I’m an adult, a successful writer. In the end, I’ll be the winner. I’ll make you regret looking down on me.

No matter what.

[loverawakeatnight]

To live happily

Since civilization began, many people around the world have asked the question: “How do we live happily?”. Even once it has been achieved, we have wanted to know, how. The topic of happiness has been debated as much as God, life, love, and hate.  This feeling is something we try to medicate people for, write about, question in the world, and experiment with. We have always struggled with exactly how to find this feeling of happiness. How do we live a happy life? How do we feel happy? To live happily, life must have or be given a meaning, and there must be an intent behind our actions, and thoughts.

From a young age, I have pondered this question, and watched the world experiment with it in front of me. When I began truly looking into the topic of life, and happiness, I found a quote by Jean Paul Sartre. He states, “Existence precedes essence”. Sartre is relating us growing into our own self, much like an acorn can grow into an acorn tree. The acorn’s essence then leads into the whole acorn tree’s existence, similarly to how a human’s essence helps to create a human’s existence, but, the acorn does not choose to become to acorn tree, that is where we are different. We choose our way of existence. Our essence is already there, and we create who we are. In other words, we create our existence. There is no predetermined path for us, we grow into our own selves, our own identities. According to an unknown author, “everyone has an essence and our lives tend towards the actualization of our essence, which dates back to Aristotle.” The author means that we have a choice in who we become, and who we grow into. When it comes to happiness, and life itself, there is no real way because it is unique to all of us. Once we can begin to understand that we create ourselves, we can understand that things can be create within our lives. Understanding the freedom, choice, and capability that one truly has is the first step to happiness.

Humans can consider that we have a choice in our lives, and then open doors to new possibilities. After acceptance that we control ourselves, we let go of predisposition, because,“It's not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters. “ (Epictetus)  This is a quote from Stoicism, a branch of existentialism. This quote states that by only worrying about the choices that you control, you can put your energy towards happiness. We fall short of happiness often because we think we can control everything when we can’t. It is an unrealistic expectation to have. Stoicism says that you have a choice in life, not on what happens, but, on how you judge it. We can choose to live happily, and we can choose to look at the situation differently. This choice is where happiness can begin to come into our own hands.

I have questioned happiness for years mainly because, I used to look at the world from a nihilistic point of view. I had no love. I had no God. I had no appreciation. I believed we were here with no meaning, and we could not make any meaning. I believed that there simply was nothing. This belief system led me into a place with no direction, no reason to get out of bed, no reason to eat, and no reason to even feel. My unhappy and meaningless life became so unbearable that I seeked out new perspectives and came upon absurdism: there is no meaning, we make our meaning. My absurdist belief system is open to a life with meaning, but still a life with logic. I was able to both accept that we are here without purpose or meaning, but there freedom and belief to make our own meaning and purpose. Much like Jean Paul Sartre concluded, we make our own path. This is not predetermined. We make our own life and feelings. Once I understood the choice that I had been given, happiness seemed to be more obtainable for me.

When we take our choice within our lives into consideration, and then use this choice for meaning and carry an intent with us, whatever purpose we picture for ourselves, we can then fulfill it. By understanding the capability and choice that is possessed, your intent can be carried out, whatever it may be. When we do not acknowledge our choice to make life what we want, we fall short of the life we want, which is a life that makes us happy. A happy life with significance is not given to us, we have to make the happiness and choose to see significance.  As humans we need something to hold onto and know that this existence isn’t all entirely pointless. We have to be able to accept that we are able to be one within our purpose-- that we are able to have whatever intent suits us best. We can try them all on, and decide if they fit. Whether it be setting an intention just to get through the day, or establishing a full meaning for one’s entire lifetime, once the ship has a direction, it will sail as far as you let it. We cannot wander through life’s waters with no destination. Naturally, one would feel very lost without having a set course.That is why we must set one.

Now, I am not saying that we have to have a drastically deep meaning in order to have a happy life, I am saying the opposite really. I am saying to stay aware of the choice we have throughout our lives, and to be mindful of where our choices are made, and what we are aiming them towards, big or small. This aim can be simple such as experiencing and taking it all in. Then it could go as far as wanting to have a family, traveling the world, achieving your goals, or in my personal case, wanting to make a change in the world. As long as there is something for you to dedicate your energy to throughout your day or life, you can reach happiness.

During my day when I am staying aware, I observe my intent and the things around me. I see my artwork and I am able to connect it to happiness. When we look at artwork, we may see beauty or pain. We may see a whole spectrum of things. When I see art, I see a reflection of one’s choice to create. Artwork is a prime example of both our choice of reaction, and our choice to make meaning. When I write a poem to make myself feel better on a sad day, it can be considered philosophical. When I am creating, I am understanding at that moment that I cannot change what is happening in my life, but that I can react to it how I choose, and add meaning to it. Life and art hold hands within the way they reach our thoughts. They both absorb the same concepts of our lives like  a sponge and then can be squeezed and shaped. They are both mirror reflections of our souls. This connection leads me to their similarity in intent.  Much like art, life can be given meaning. Life can be crafted. You can take the nothing, and turn it into everything. Life and art are based from the choice for a purpose or meaning. I admire art, and model myself after art, because art is choice, art is freedom. Happiness is freedom. Happiness, is creating our meaning, the choice to have this meaning and to possess happiness no matter what is happening around you; the combination of a Stoic and an Absurdist. To choose to make happiness. To create nothing into what you want.

All of these thoughts on life that I have are passionate and I share them as means of reflection. I had brought up my thoughts on happiness with my good friend Mary. She was pondering my theories and researching them herself. Mary asked me, “If it never ends (the act of creating purpose) then what is the point of searching for it? To fulfill our happiness in that moment but then it is gone. So, meaning is never truly satisfied. So is purpose necessary?” (Martinez) Well, Mary, that is just my point! If we did not have something to create or search for, what would life be besides surviving? We would be miserably bored, and then inevitably depressed because of the intense boredom. It is the pursuit that is life, it is the creating and learning what it is we want that will bring us the experience of happiness in our lives. Happiness is not meant to be easy, nor is existing. They are both something one has to make a mindful choice to participate in.

When I speak of there being no meaning, that isn’t to say it in a negative way. Yes, we are on a spinning ball in the middle of small galaxy. No, it doesn’t have to just be that way. We can make it more than that. We create our existence, our existence doesn't have to exist meaninglessly unless we let it. The fact that the meaning in our lives is blank like a canvas can further motivate us to let in our own personal meaning and to form our own intent. To be happy, one must make the choice to be happy, one must make the choice to pursue happiness and to carry the freedom of their existence in their hands. They do not need to follow a path, they do not need to be a particular way, or even act a certain way, they just need to have something to feel for and to work for. Happiness is craftsmanship, hard work, and dedication, and that is the freedom we are given, to pursue it or to not. 

[thehappinessmachine]

do you have any tips for writing a story/making a comic? :0 i really want to create my own but i keep getting overwhelmed by all the idea and possibilities.

1. gather all the tropes you love and dump them into one story2. try to at least arrange them in a logical order3. hope that people like this mess??4. ???5. profit???????????

Okay, but seriously,storytelling/comic writing is a PRETTY BIG TOPIC, and there really isn’t oneright way to do it! Everyone has their own way to make it happen, and comicwriting is also very specific because you have consider art style/characterdesign/format on top of that as well! I can give a few tips based on my ownexperience that it’s good to focus on, because I love thinking about storiesand how they work as a whole.

1. THEME - what theme do youwant your story to have? You don’t have to go for just one big theme (thoughsome stories do) but what is it that you want to explore in the story?  Atheme, I think, is a really great anchor for a story - when you are figuringout the events and such that happen within it, you can almost always tie themback to the theme. For example, a theme can be “creativity”, so you couldmake a protagonist learning how to express their own creativity, and thevillain as a person who wants to stifle it, that sort of thing. For example, inJojolion, one of the parts of Jojos Bizarre Adventure, one of the many themesthat Hirohiko Araki seems to be exploring is the concept of “identity”, ashis protag is a man who has lost his memories and is integrated into a helpfulfamily. How does he work within his found family? How does he react when he laterdiscovers who - or what - he really is? How does his concept of himself thriveor suffer with the knowledge of his true identity, and what does he do with itaround the people he’s grown to love in his new life? Themes bring up a lot ofquestions, and exploring those questions within a story really makes it all themore stronger.

2. CHARACTERS - I LOVEcharacter-driven stories, they’re my lifeblood, and I love when people really putthe time into exploring characters and their facets and how they work indifferent scenarios. Don’t make your characters one-note!! Please!!! Nobody isever going to force you to make War-and-Peace levels of character complexity,but at least figure out a character’s personality and their strengths and theirflaws, at the very least. Even side characters benefit from this - a storybecomes much more alive when you fill the world of the story with people whoseem like people instead of cardboard cutouts. Also, characters do not startand end with personality - a nice kind lady might be driven to anger by aperson who does everything to push her buttons. By which, to say, nobody isgoing to act the same in every scenario. Think of how each character would reactin different scenarios, and how they would react to others around them! A sillyditz of a character might be shown to have a survivalist streak if thrown intoa dangerous situation, or a cruel jerk might act softly towards a person whoreminds them of a person they care about.

3. EVERYTHING MUST HAVE APURPOSE - I remember learning this from a book I read when I was a kid.Everything that happens in the story must serve some sort of purpose. Forexample, a nice talk between two characters might show the difference in idealsbetween the characters, and set up the conflict that will grow between them. Asimple scene of the protag waking up to tend to their garden might show thatthey’re a calm soul who loves nature, which would be a nice juxtaposition withwhen we see that they’re a cruel murderer later. A scene must show more of acharacter, move along the plot, be exposition, reveal foreshadowing…you can’tjust throw in a scene for the heck of it. A fun chat between a group ofcharacters might seem nice, but if it tells us the exact same things as we knewbefore and doesn’t introduce any new information, then it’s not worth puttingin. If the nice chat casually reveals that a character is deathly afraid ofbeavers, and then later we see a beaver that puts the character in a badsituation, then its shown its purpose. Don’t think that every scene has to dosomething major or grand – even subtle revealing character moments are nice to haveto allow the readers to understand how the character works.

4. SHOW, DON’T ALWAYS TELL –this is a pretty common thing to see from tips about writing, so I’m not goingto go into too much detail about this. But once again, showing is a muchstronger way of giving information than having it spelled out. What gives moreof an impression to you – having a character tell another that their brother istoo overly positive and it has a negative impact on his life and the peoplearound him, or showing the brother smiling and cracking jokes at a funeral? Thelatter, of course. Don’t state what you can easily show.

5. THE MOVEMENTS OF A PLOT –you’ve probably seen plot diagrams of how a plot typically moves – there’sexposition, conflict, rising action, climax, falling action, and resolution.This is really the most basic form of a plot, and you can’t go wrong with this,especially for shorter stories. However, knowing the rules means you can breakthe rules, and I’ve seen plenty of stories that switch things up, like havingthe beginning start at the climax, only to flashback to the exposition, or haveseveral mini-climaxes that build up to one large climax, or to even have afalling action move into a bigger climax and…well, you get the idea. You dowant to keep things moving during a plot, and having it stagnate would be theworst thing for you and your readers. Sometimes, I think of a climax or anending as a first idea and try to figure out how things went to that state. Forexample, if a building imploded, I ask myself: who did it? How did they do it?Where did they do it? Why did they do it? What led up to this? And this way, Ican build up the plot, and start to fill in the blanks, so to speak.

Overall, I’m no expert instory writing, and if you want me to talk about comic writing in particular I’dhave to go make another post about that (there are different things to keep inmind!) but those are my major tips I think should play a role in writingstories! What I tend to do is let an idea ruminate in my head and just try tothink of how to make it work – sometimes your brain can give you ideas that don’talways come at first thought. GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR STORY WRITING, YOU CAN DO IT,BE THE BEST STORY WRITER YOU CAN BE, I BELIEVE IN YOU

[orokinarchives]

The New Strange

Work with Cephalon Simaris to find the source of a mysterious voice.

Previous story quest: Stolen Dreams

Starting the quest

The quest is awarded by completing the Europa Junction on Jupiter. After it is unlocked, it can be started at any time from the Codex. The New Strange must be completed as a requirement for unlocking the Saturn Junction.

Previously, the quest had to be accepted from Cephalon Simaris in-person at a Relay; however, now the quest is added directly into the Codex after completing the Europa Junction.

(upon accepting the quest in a Relay (not present in current version of the game)) Simaris: "Hunter! Will you bring my sentinels home, so that I might once again focus on our grand project?"

(upon starting the quest) Ordis: "Operator, what is Cephalon Simaris like? I have heard so many wonderful things!"

First Mission: Find Cephalon Simaris' Missing Sentinels (Nuovo, Ceres)

(Grineer Shipyards tileset concept art – Sean Bigham)

The mission is a Rescue mission on the Grineer Shipyard tileset, with the usual Grineer enemies.

Simaris: "My sentinels entered this Grineer prison searching for a curious anomaly. Their last known location was the prison block. Hunter, I must know their fate."

Lotus: "Simaris, what was so important that your sentinels would risk entering a Grineer prison?"

Simaris: "All knowledge is important. I would expect you to know that, Lotus."

(upon arriving at the cell block) Lotus: "I'm detecting the sentinels within the cell block."

Upon rescuing the objectives, the drones are revealed to be three Helios sentinels. Once the prison door is open, they will fly away.

Simaris: "My sentinels… you are still functional! Come home, my darlings! …Hunter, my gratitude is boundless. Head for extraction so that we might discuss—"

Lotus: "Not so fast, Tenno. If Cephalon Simaris isn't willing to tell us what happened here, we'll find out on our own. Locate their data vault and find their security logs."

The mission turns into a Spy mission, with one data vault.

(upon extracting the data) Lotus: "There. You got the security logs. We'll examine them when you're safely back on the Orbiter. Get to extraction."

[on board Orbiter]

Lotus: "The corruption to the security logs was extensive, but we managed to retrieve fragments of a biological signature. Could this be what Simaris was after?"

Ordis: "Ordis will perform analysis on the signature now…. Oh… there's nothing here but…."

A static-filled video recording is accompanied by the sounds of heavy gunfire and Grineer shouts. A loud explosion silences the other sounds, and in the quiet, a mysterious voice is heard.

[unknown]: "HERE WE SHALL SEARCH AND FIND. THE EYES OF DAY DRINKING THE NIGHT."

After it speaks, the gunfire resumes again and the video ends.

Ordis: "Uuuuh… pardon, Operator, it seems Ordis is hearing voices again. Running diagnostics."

Lotus: "No, Ordis, we heard it too. Tenno, that's the voice from the Arcane Codices. Cephalon Simaris is hiding something. Pay him another visit. Find out what he knows."

Ordis: "Simaris has no reason to lie, Operator! Please, treat the great Cephalon with respect."

The Tenno must travel to a Relay to see Cephalon Simaris, where a new dialogue prompt will be available.

Tenno: "'The eyes of day drinking the night'?"

Simaris: "Searching for answers, Tenno? Knowledge must be earned. I have a task for you, small, compared to the vast needs of Sanctuary. Hunt for me, and in return I will tell you what that biological signature means."

Cephalon Simaris gives the Tenno the task of Synthesising 3 Elite Arid Lancers. This can be done on Mars, on any node where Arid Grineer units spawn. One Synthesis target will appear per mission, and so three missions need to be completed to obtain the Synthesis. If the Tenno has not completed the Synthesis tutorial, they must do that with Cephalon Simaris before he will give them the Synthesis task. Upon completing the Synthesis task, the Tenno must return to the Relay and talk to Cephalon Simaris.

Simaris: "I thank you, Tenno. You found something my sentinels missed in that prison. You will make an excellent hunter. I will decipher as we agreed: it is of Tenno origin, with an anomaly from before the Orokin purge. This knowledge must be Synthesised. It belongs in Sanctuary. I've created a blueprint based on its biological properties. Build it, so we both may become enlightened by it."

The Tenno will receive a blueprint for a Scorched Beacon, which costs 5.000 cr and 1 minute to craft, and requires 250 ferrite, 100 polymer bundle, 1.000 salvage, and 10 nav coordinates. It is described as "An abandoned relic of unknown function."

(upon returning to the Orbiter) Simaris: "Hunter, you know what to do. Construct the item I have given you. This knowledge could empower us both."

Ordis: "Operator please, HURRY UP and do what the Cephalon has requested."

Simaris: "What is this? An antique Series-2 Cephalon? All I found were degraded beyond repair, but you're still functional. Your abilities could be of great use in my Sanctuary."

Ordis: "Oh, oh, well, it's nothing. I— I'm… Ordis is honoured by your compliment."

(upon claiming the built Scorched Beacon) Ordis: "Completing this blueprint has sent out some kind of signal…. Operator… I… feel— [garbled]"

[unknown]: "ALL IS SILENT IN THE CALM. HUSHED AND EMPTY IS THE WOMB OF THE SKY."

Ordis (glitched): "Operatoooor?"

Simaris: "I will begin shielding your Cephalon's somatic routines. Meanwhile, you must hunt for me. I have traced the source of this message."

Ordis (glitches fading): "Thhhhank-k-k thank you, Simaris…."

Lotus: "Whoever we're dealing with slaughtered the Grineer searching for the Codices. It must be going after the Corpus next. Get there and intercept."

Second Mission: Investigate the Source of the Transmission (Morax, Europa)

(Corpus Ice Planet tileset concept art – Zeljko Duvnjak)

The mission is a Mobile Defence mission on the Corpus Ice Planet tileset, with normal Corpus enemies.

Lotus: "I am not detecting any Tenno here."

Simaris: "There may be information stored on the network."

Lotus: "Tenno, I'll have to break into the network. Be prepared for heavy resistance. I can't do this without you."

[on board Orbiter]

Lotus: "Chroma?! I haven't seen one since… no, it couldn't be."

Simaris: "But it is. I have information from the network. I will form another blueprint for you to make physical. The hunt is not over."

Ordis: "How… did you do that?"

Simaris: "You used to know, Ordis, but you've lost those memories, haven't you?"

Ordis: "I seem to have… misplaced them."

Simaris: "I could restore them. In time, we could reverse your decline. Heal your malfunctions."

Simaris gives the Tenno the blueprint for a Chroma Signal, which costs 5.000 cr and 1 minute to build, and requires 250 ferrite, 100 rubedo, 1.000 salvage, and 10 nav coordinates. It is described as "A signal detector of some sort."

(upon claiming the built Chroma Signal) Lotus: "I don't like this, Tenno. This Chroma has been to the locations where both the Grineer and Corpus had found Codices. It's covering someone's tracks."

Simaris: "Motivations are inconsequential. Focus on finding their next location."

Ordis: "Well, Operator, the next logical location is the machine where we previously activated Codices. Aboard the derelict ship."

Simaris: "Very good, Cephalon Ordis. Your potential is squandered here as a simple servant of this 'Operator'. It would be a shame for you to waste away here, as all things outside Sanctuary do."

Lotus: "We don't have time for this! Tenno, return to the machine before the trail goes cold."

Third Mission: Revisit the Derelict (Alator, Mars)

(Grineer Settlement concept art – Branislav Perkovic)

The mission takes place on the Grineer Settlement tileset, with Arid Grineer enemies.

Lotus: "Chroma is one of the most powerful warframes. Its ability to adapt is unparalleled."

Simaris: "Then the question is, if it is not Tenno-controlled, what entity dominates it? That is the true prey. I must have that other for my Sanctuary."

A Void gate leads to the derelict ship visited earlier, in Stolen Dreams. The Grineer have occupied the ship and are present throughout the level. Upon arriving at the Arcane Machine, a Chroma warframe, armed with a Dera and a Gram, drops down from the ceiling and begins to attack the Tenno.

Lotus: "Do not engage!"

Simaris: "I need this information. Synthesise it."

It must be scanned with the Synthesis scanner. Upon being scanned, it will vanish, and the Tenno can head out of the Void portal and to extraction.

[on board Orbiter]

Simaris: "Cephalon Ordis, through my teaching, you should be able to extract a blueprint from the hunter's Synthesis."

Ordis: "Yes. Yes! I see now. I can do this."

Ordis gives the Tenno a blueprint for a Chroma Mark, which costs 5.000 cr and 1 minute to build, and requires 2.000 salvage, 100 circuits, a Scorched Beacon, and a Chroma Signal. It is described as "Reveals the beast."

Simaris: "This is but a trifle of the knowledge I would give you, if you were to join me in the Sanctuary."

Ordis: "Sadly, the scan is not enough and Chroma escaped too quickly. Unfortunately, we've run out of places to look."

Simaris: "Knowledge is the path to the singularity, Ordis. I have more of it. I have a Codex piece and know the location of another machine."

Lotus: "Cephalon, why did you withhold this information?"

Simaris: "You withhold as much, Lotus. My motives are above substance, above you. I will direct this hunt, once we glean all we can from Cephalon Ordis' good work."

(upon claiming the built Chroma Mark) Simaris: "Let us begin the final hunt. Defeating Chroma will allow us to Synthesise it… only then, we will learn the secrets of its controller."

Ordis: "Operator, this sounds dangerous."

Simaris: "Cephalon Ordis, please! You must learn to collaborate with me, if you are to be my 'Eternal Steward of the Sanctuary'."

Ordis: "I would be Steward of your Sanctuary?"

Simaris: "Ours. And with a full retrofit. Total memetic restoration."

Ordis: "ABANDON THE OPERATOR? Yes. The Operator deserves a newer, better ship Cephalon. I think this is probably for the best."

Simaris: "Then it is decided. I will prepare your data transfer when your 'Operator' has completed this hunt. Tenno, I've marked the location."

Fourth Mission: Defeat Chroma (Ose, Europa)

(Corpus Ice Planet tileset concept art – Zeljko Duvnjak)

The mission takes place on the Corpus Ice Planet tileset on Europa. There are no enemies.

Lotus: "Activate the machine and then prepare yourself. Chroma will be lured."

Nearby by the insertion point is a Void gate to another derelict ship. Inside the ship is another Arcane Machine, undamaged unlike the last machine, with a different skull-shaped object suspended above. Approaching it will begin a Defence mission, as Corpus enemies appear and swarm the location. The Arcane Machine must be protected.

(after the first wave is defeated) Simaris: "Now, we wait, and learn from the results."

Ordis: "But… but… the Operator is in danger!"

Simaris: "Knowledge, Cephalon Ordis. My knowledge will preserve you forever. This Operator will pass, as do all beings of substance. It is our purpose to learn from the results."

Ordis: "But… just using the scanner on—"

Simaris: "Enough! You want to be Eternal Steward of the Sanctuary, do you not?"

During the fifth wave of enemies, Chroma will appear and begin attacking with its Dera rifle and its abilities. It is invulnerable to all damage.

Ordis: "The Operator comes first!"

Simaris: "Ordis, free yourself of this—"

Ordis: "SHUT YOUR OSCILLATOR, SIMARIS. Operator, use the scanner on the Chroma. You do not have to kill it, or risk yourself. You can release it from its control with the scanner!"

Chroma must be scanned 5 times, upon which it will disappear. Once the scans are complete and the wave of Corpus enemies is defeated, the mission will end.

Lotus: "Go now, Tenno. You have done well."

[on board Orbiter]

Lotus: "Excellent work, Tenno. You've severed the control of Chroma. The hunt is over."

Simaris: "For now. These scans will be an incredible addition to Sanctuary. I will continue my search for the source of the voice and its domination. Return to me and hunt again Tenno. I will reward you."

Ordis: "More importantly, the Operator is unharmed."

Simaris: "You disappoint me, Cephalon Ordis. I was offering a greater purpose. Healing. As Steward, I would have restored your lost memories!"

Ordis: "I am Ordis, ship Cephalon. I serve the Operator. I make new memories."

Upon completion of the quest, the Tenno will receive a Chroma blueprint and an inbox message from Cephalon Simaris.

Inbox message: The Sanctuary Needs You

I have decided to expand your role.

Cephalon Simaris (video message): "Hunter, you have worked hard, captured millions of imprints to be combined into 'ideal' specimens for the Sanctuary. In light of your tireless contributions, I have decided to expand your role. Every day, I perform preliminary Synthesis to determine what creature will join the Sanctuary next. Do you want to see the Sanctuary grow as quickly as I do? Then join me in this task by visiting the Sanctuary."

The Tenno now has access to Sanctuary Onslaught.

Next story quest: Natah

[Navigation: Hub → Quests → The New Strange]

[winterverses]

Walking Wounded - Chapter Seventy

Coming home to a quiet, empty apartment didn’t settle his mind. “Anne?” he called when he walked in. There was no music, no one in the living room. A familiar smell that he couldn’t place wafted from the kitchen, but it was silent in that direction too. Nevertheless, that was the best place to start. Anne probably wouldn’t have left the house with food cooking.

As he came into the kitchen, he saw why it was so quiet and still. Out on the balcony scattered little lights flickered in the breeze, providing just enough illumination to be comfortable, little pools of wavering light in Yorktown’s night cycle. Uhura sat at the little table, her Charellian joyeuse in her lap, her fingers plucking at the strings and her lips curved in a soft, amused smile. Anne and Spock stood nearby, Spock positioning Anne’s arm, turning her chin, very clearly instructing her. Anne was listening intently, her eyes fixed on him. Curious, Kirk watched from the darkness of the kitchen as Spock lifted his head, said something to Uhura, and then stood across from Anne.

Uhura paused, resettled her joyeuse, and then began to pluck the strings again. As she did, Spock and Anne began to step slowly in a circle, watching each other. It took a moment to register that this was a dance, slow and stately, with sweeping, graceful gestures that Kirk didn’t recognize. A Vulcan dance? Kirk hadn’t ever heard anything one way or another about Vulcans considering dance an art form. And… Spock? It boggled the mind.

Not wanting to interrupt, Kirk watched for a few moments more, wondering if there was some sort of alternate reality leak, or maybe a lingering side effect from that last mind meld. He eventually discarded those possibilities as unlikely, if Uhura was calmly playing for them rather than raising the alarms. But still. Spock? Dancing?

When Spock stopped Anne, correcting one of her movements, Kirk decided he’d better just go out and join them before they caught him gaping at them. Shaking his head, he grabbed a cold beer and stepped outside.

Anne noticed him immediately, and her eyes brightened in a silent welcome, but she stayed where she was, listening to Spock’s explanation. “...as a trickster figure, T’Kay’s part is necessarily represented with more complex movements, steps that deceive the eye, while Shariel is represented with strength and bolder movements. T’Kay is the more demanding role, but I believe with your previous training you are capable of it, so long as you practice it.” Having seen her sidelong glance, he looked up, unsurprised to see Kirk. “Good evening, Captain. I trust you are well.”

“We’re off-duty, Spock,” Kirk said, popping the cap on his beer and seating himself beside Uhura. “Don’t let me interrupt your lesson. It sounds pretty interesting.” As far as he understood, Vulcans didn’t actually believe their mythology to be true, but it was still honored as a part of their history. It made sense that it would be preserved in dance as well as sculpture, like the bust of Shariel Spock had in his quarters.

“Normally, one does not share these practices with outsiders. Dance has long been seen as a pastime for children, to be set aside as one ages. Still, it would be a loss to our culture as a whole if these dances were to disappear. The practices of children are as important as the industry and art of adults in determining the true nature of a species.”

If Kirk hadn’t known better, he might have thought he heard a little bit of defensiveness there. Spock was right, though-- if no one thought these things important enough to pass on, something of value would be lost, especially since Vulcan children now were far more likely to take on the pastimes of other races due to their fragmented population. When he looked at it that way, it seemed logical in the extreme. “Mind catching me up on what I’m watching?”

“It’s a trickster story,” Nyota said. “How the trickster got her immortality. There are a few different versions of the myth, but in most of them, T’Kay dies of old age and her katra tricks Shariel into giving her back her body when it was young and strong. Once he realizes his mistake he chases her and tries to capture her, but when he corners her, she convinces him that since she’s a katra in a body and not a naturally born creature, a powerful sacrifice of some sort is necessary for her to give it up and go back to the underworld. In the end, he becomes temporarily mortal and dies to try to separate her from her body, and she’s able to escape him again because he’s trapped in his own underworld until he regains his godhood.” Nyota smiled. “Apparently he considered it a draw after that and left her alone. Personally, I think she won.”

“There are other interpretations of that same myth that posit that Shariel’s persistence was out of love for T’Kay, or that she had upset the balance of life and death with her actions. Some of them have Shariel succeeding in the end and giving her penances to perform to restore the balance of life and death, and some of them have her returning to the underworld willingly to visit with him, both of them having learned to respect the other. It is an engaging myth, one that figures largely in children’s pastimes. T’Kay’s flight inspired one of the practices I remember from my childhood, a game not unlike the human game ‘hide and seek’, although far more complex and intellectually demanding.” Spock looked back to Anne. “If your interest persists, we should continue the lesson.”

“Of course,” Anne said. “It’s fascinating. I’m immensely flattered that you’re willing to teach me. I’ve never heard dance mentioned in the same breath as Vulcan art before, not even when I was there.”

“As I said, it is not shared with outsiders or practiced by adults, but your respect for our culture is clear, as is our need to preserve our practices. I am gratified by your enthusiasm. Now, let us continue.” Spock looked at Uhura, who repositioned her hands on the joyeuse and began to play.

Once the mythology was explained, the themes in both the music and the accompanying dance were more obvious. Anne played her part as best she could, the dance obviously new to her, but she looked as if she enjoyed every second of it, responding instantly to any of Spock’s murmured corrections. Spock, on the other hand, looked as stone-faced as ever; if Kirk hadn’t known him so well, he might have missed how pleased Spock was by Anne’s interest and willingness to learn. The music resolved itself into a less stately motif for the trickster T’Kay, something complicated and hard to follow that matched Anne’s footwork and the way she appeared to start toward one direction only to end up elsewhere. Shariel, on the other hand, was slower and more forceful, Spock’s movements reflecting his attempts to catch the elusive T’Kay. Though stylized, Kirk thought he could even make out the basic structure of the story.

It figured that Vulcan playtime for kids involved complex choreography, though. Something like basketball or tag would have been just too simple.

After a time, Spock called off any more repetitions, having stopped and started a few times to work on different parts of the dance. “It would please me very much to know that you will practice this,” he said to Anne as they came over to the table.

Anne rested her hip on the arm of Kirk’s chair, leaning over him to grab a glass of water that was sitting on the table. “Of course I will. But I do have to ask-- what about performing it? I don’t mind keeping it to myself, but a dance as beautiful as that should be seen.”

Spock had to consider this for a moment, regarding her with a small frown. “I would not recommend performing it unless you have a Vulcan partner,” he said finally. “Otherwise you are likely to face derision from those who would undermine an expression of my culture’s art simply because you are not a Vulcan. I myself have faced prejudice due to perceived lack of Vulcan authenticity more than I care to say; it is unfortunate, but since that is the case, I have no reason to believe a human would be met with more acceptance, no matter how respectful you may be.”

“That is unfortunate,” Anne sighed. “I’ll be very careful about it. I don’t want seem like I’m insulting your culture. But it’s always bothered me that the measures taken to keep a culture ‘pure’ after a diaspora are also the ones that run the most risk of killing off the practices entirely through restriction.”

“There is no adequate solution. I trust you will use your judgment, and perform or teach only when you believe your audience or student is appropriate.” Spock looked down at Uhura, who grinned back up at him. “I appreciate your willingness to play for us, Nyota.” Anne echoed his thanks.

“You know I like this sort of thing,” Nyota said. “It’s getting late, though. We should think about dinner. Did you want to go out, or would you rather just punch something up?”

“Oh, no need for that,” Anne said. “I put something on to simmer when I went in last time.”

Uhura frowned, looking uncertain. “That was hours ago. Are you sure it’s okay?”

“It smelled great when I was in there,” Kirk said.

“Don’t worry. Stews just get better the longer you leave them alone. Just relax, I’ll go dish up for everyone.” Anne stood, running her hand through Kirk’s hair and looking fondly down at him.

“Nah, I’ll come help,” he said. “It feels wrong not to do anything to contribute to the evening.”

“Your presence is contribution enough, cher, but I won’t refuse the help,” Anne said, her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes and revealing that damn dimple. She looked back up at Spock and Uhura. “Do either of you want me to get anything else while I’m inside?  More beer, more water, some wine?”

“I’d enjoy some wine. Maybe one of the bottles we brought? If they’ll go well, of course,” Uhura said.

“That Riesling should be perfect,” Anne answered, a secret smile lurking in her eyes.

Kirk followed her to the kitchen, noting that the window was closed and waiting for the door to shut behind them before speaking. “What have you got going?” he asked, pretending to be suspicious.

Anne turned and grinned at him. “Oh, it’s nothing really. I just hope you all like dinner.”

“I thought it smelled familiar. What is it?” Kirk asked, catching her hand and gently tugging her toward him. She came willingly, her body flowing up against his, her arms sliding around his waist.

It definitely wasn’t the time for more than a brief kiss, but it was impossible not to make it last longer than it should have. Kissing her was just too captivating. By the time she pulled away, he’d almost forgotten his question, and her cheeks were a bit flushed. “You’ll see. I don’t want to tell you until you’ve had a chance to try it and guess.” Anne said, turning to get the dishes set out, a smile lingering on her lips. “Do you mind opening the wine and bringing out some glasses? I can handle the rest.”

“You got it, gorgeous,” Kirk said. At Anne’s direction, he found the wine in the bar, already chilled. Bringing it back out, he set the glasses on the table and poured for each of them, glancing back to see if Anne needed anything else.

Evidently she didn’t; she came out shortly, carrying a tray. The smell of the stew was definitely familiar, but Kirk still couldn’t place it. He saw Uhura suddenly look as if she’d gotten a private joke, and Spock frowned slightly, looking like he felt the same way as Kirk. Anne set the dishes down and sat beside Kirk, picking up her spoon and watching the others. “Don’t you say anything,” she warned Uhura, who laughed. Anne then looked to Kirk and Spock. “I want to see how well I got it. Try it and tell me whether you recognize it.”

Kirk obliged her, taking a bite, and the spicy taste immediately pushed the nostalgia buttons in his brain. He remembered it, but couldn’t place it, the taste eluding him even as the spice began to build. It quickly reached a burn just barely within the limits of comfort.

After a moment of contemplation, the heat failing to make a dent in his demeanor, Spock spoke up. “If I possessed a tail, it would indeed have a kink.”

Anne and Uhura burst out laughing, and Kirk joined them with a shake of his head. Sivaoan food. Tail-kinkers. After their talk of tricksters, he was surprised he hadn’t remembered it sooner; that was, after all, where they’d met a real life trickster of a sort. Taking another bite, he tried to recall any differences between the taste of the grabfoot stew they’d eaten and the stew that Anne had set in front of them. It seemed subtly different, but not in a way he could define, and not such that it stood out as a reproduction. Even the meat seemed more like the tiny, colorful little dinosaur-beasts than anything from Earth. “Damn. How’d you put this together?” Kirk asked.

“The genetic information was in the Enterprise database. It took some trial and error to translate it into the synthesizer-- you would not believe some of the terrors that came out. Luckily, I knew of a little Sivaoan community here in Yorktown and enlisted their help in return for giving them the synth pattern. Of course they prefer the real thing, but they were happy to know they’d be able to synth something that tasted right in a pinch.” Anne smiled and sipped her wine. “This was for you, Spock. Nyota said you liked tail-kinkers. If the ones in the stew are acceptable, I’ll send you the synth pattern.”

“It is more than acceptable. I am flattered that you went to the trouble on my behalf,” Spock said gravely.

“It was no trouble. It gave me something to work on during the days. Now I’ll have to find a new project.”

“Can’t sit still, huh?” Uhura asked. “Any idea what you’re going to work on next?”

Anne’s pleasure dimmed. “Yeah, actually. I was going to help Ben and Hikaru with their appeals. Ethics had a problem with letting them adopt Lilla, something about the fact that they already had a kid. I don’t know much about the whole thing, but I can at least make calls and fill out forms.”

Nyota grimaced. “I heard about that. Sulu seemed to expect it. I don’t think it’s going to be that big a problem, but I’m glad you’re helping out. I told him, but I’ll tell you too, let us know if there’s anything we can do, okay?”

“Yes, of course,” Anne said, then brightened. “And then there’s the party to plan, too…”

Spock and Uhura were coming, of course, regardless of the actual date. Kirk would have been shocked if they’d declined. What did surprise him, however, was how fast Anne and Nyota went from casual discussion to planning, then actually starting to put things in motion. By the time the first bottle of wine was finished, they had decided on a guest list and a menu (with input from both himself and Spock, of course); by the time the second one was finished, they had already figured out how much of what would set up the bar, what playlists to use, in exactly what order and how far ahead every dish would have to be made, and the likelihood that they would need aircars standing by to transport anyone who had overimbibed. Upon reflection, Kirk decided that his surprise was unwarranted. Nyota was an organizer by nature. He’d known that since they’d been in the Xenolinguistics Club together back in the Academy. She’d always been on his ass about the club accounts and bookkeeping, which, of course, had been her job as President-- keeping her Treasurer on the straight and narrow. And he already knew Anne was detail-oriented, self-motivated, and used to considering issues from multiple angles.

“I wonder what would happen if they were ever posted to Ops,” Kirk murmured to Spock, watching them systematically wipe out task after task, right down to sending out messages to the sources Anne had chosen for the food.

“By my calculations, we would see an increase in efficiency on the close order of thirty-four percent,” Spock said blandly. “Perhaps more, if they were allowed to dictate repercussions for poor performance.”

Kirk was pretty sure that was a joke. “Let’s just hope they’re free if we ever need to plan a war.”

Catching his comment, Uhura raised her eyebrows at Anne. “I think they’re getting restless. The wisecracking has started.”

“Well, we have enough done for now. I’ll call you tomorrow after five-- oh, wait. We have that damn interview.” Anne rolled her eyes. “What a pain. I’ll call you the day after.”

“Sounds good.” Uhura looked over at Kirk. “And if you said you were going to send out invitations, you’d better get cracking. I want to know we’ve heard back from everyone by Sunday.”

“All right, all right,” Kirk laughed. Somehow this had become her party too. He didn’t mind. It was kind of neat watching his friends take a random whim of his and make it into a group endeavor. It was something that wouldn’t have happened this way if Anne hadn’t been around. The dynamic was different, more balanced. He was less set apart somehow. Was it easier for them to ignore the shipboard pecking order because Anne didn’t have a real rank? But it wasn’t like Nyota had ever been excessively deferential in the first place, and Spock was just Spock, no matter what rank either of them had ever held.

Setting his thoughts aside as Nyota and Spock rose to leave, he and Anne escorted them to the door, saying their goodbyes. Once they were gone the place felt emptier, but not entirely, as if they’d left some of their companionable warmth behind them.

Anne leaned into his side, looking affectionately up at him. “I’ve got to go clean up, cher. Will you run us a bath if you’re not too tired?”

“Sure.” The thought of the advice he’d been given, both by Ella and by Carol, made him pause. Was it better to talk about these things now?

“What is it?” Anne asked, curious.

Damn. She was getting to know him too well. No point in putting it off. “A couple things. You need a communicator, for one.”

“Why?” Anne asked, annoyance flitting across her features.

“Because if you have one, I won’t have to worry that you won’t be able to reach me if you’re in trouble.”

She knew he had a point, even though she wasn’t happy about it. What was wrong with having a communicator? His puzzlement must have shown on his face, because she answered immediately. “I just don’t like the idea of anyone being able to bother me wherever I am and no matter what I’m doing. If I get a separate comm code, will you keep it to yourself?”

Reluctantly, he said, “That’s probably not a great idea. If there was an emergency and I couldn’t give the code to someone else for whatever reasons…”

Sighing, she rested her head against his arm. “All right. But only because you think it’s necessary. The moment it’s no longer necessary, I’m getting rid of it.”

“That’s fair.” Was that enough for the moment? Was she too annoyed to take it well if he brought up the other thing? Deciding it was best to get it all over at once, he said, “And… if things don’t work out for you, would you consider staying aboard the Enterprise? I know it’s not… I mean, I know you think you’re not cut out for Starfleet and all that, but… it’s an option. Or at least I could make it an option. If you wanted.”

By the time he’d finished speaking, she’d gone entirely still, her hurt wordlessly radiating from every line of her body. Wasn’t great for the old ego. He had to admit, though, that he knew just how important her writing was to her by how assiduously she avoided the subject, and how relentlessly she filled up her time. And that was just what he saw; he had a feeling that was the tip of the iceberg when it came to her feelings about her writing. Might as well ask him to stay with her if he’d lost his ability to be the Captain. It would be like cutting out half his personality, his life, the person he thought of as himself. She wouldn’t be able to replace that for him, no matter what he felt for her.

But… it would help. Having someone who cared that much for him would help. Wouldn’t it? He wasn’t in her position. He couldn’t tell.

After a long while, she pressed her cheek harder against him. “Yes,” she said, her voice small and quiet. “I’ll go with you, if it comes to that.”

He’d thought it would make him… well, definitely not happy, not when he’d known she would be hurt. Relieved, maybe? More settled? Instead, it just felt unutterably selfish, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. Even though he didn’t mean it that way, it must have sounded like he didn’t have any confidence in her, and even if she knew better on one level, that didn’t negate how it must have felt. “We don’t need to talk about it again,” he added, wishing that he could forget it entirely. But Carol had been right-- it needed to be addressed. He needed to know, so he could take any steps that needed to be taken. “Just… come with me when I go back, if that’s what works.”

Anne must have had some idea he would bring it up, but even if it had to be said, that didn’t make it hurt her any less. Her body was tense, as if she’d just been hit and was trying to master her reaction so she could choose how she wanted to respond. After a while, she spoke, her voice still quiet but a little more controlled. “I need to be alone for a bit. I’ll be on the balcony. Go to sleep, if you like. You’ve had a long day.”

There was no way Kirk could sleep, not now. Not until she came back to him. But he knew better than to put that on her too. “I won’t bother you,” he said. He wished he could do something to comfort her-- hold her, make her laugh, something-- but pushing himself on her just to assuage his own guilt would be unforgivable. Instead, he stood still as she pulled away from him, only his eyes following her as she left.

After he heard the balcony door open, he decided he would run that bath. Maybe see what was in the refrigerator, get some rum chilling. It was the only thing he could think to do that wouldn’t be intrusive, that might help to smooth things over. He tried not to gawk when he went into the kitchen and the bedroom, but he did see that she was working in the garden. That was good. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she’d been just sitting there crying the way he’d half-expected, aside from feel about a thousand times worse.

By the time he heard the balcony door open again, the bath had been full for long enough that he had to set the temperature to hold, or else it would have cooled too much to be comfortable. Kirk himself was seated on one of the couches, going over the most recently released court schedules. No word on Loche’s trial date yet, but the schedules were only mapped a couple weeks ahead. He concentrated on the padd in his hands to avoid wondering whether she would approach him or if he should go to speak to her.

Her footsteps on the carpet told him he had no reason to wonder. She didn’t say anything, but she came to sit beside him. When he looked at her, he saw that her eyes were a little red, and immediately felt like the galaxy’s biggest heel. She smiled, though, and even if she wasn’t happy, at least she wasn’t angry or resentful. “You should have gone to bed, cher. It’s late.”

“I’m fine. Not like I haven’t done it before.” He started to set the padd aside, then a thought occurred to him. “If you want, I’ll stay home tomorrow. They say they need me but they really don’t, it’s just the same boring old shit again. All little guys they’ve got airtight cases on anyway.”

Anne’s eyes lightened a bit, becoming instantly less guarded and more transparent, the turmoil of her emotions clearer. “You don’t have to,” she said.

Kirk lifted the padd and began to tap out a message. He’d seen that little bit of hopefulness in amidst her hurt feelings and self-doubt. “I’m sick of it anyway. I need a day off. And then maybe we can get that interview done with earlier and not have to spend our whole day waiting for it to be over.”

“I’d like that,” she said, resting her head against his shoulder.

Kirk finished his message and tossed the padd aside, sliding his arm around her. Missing a few trials shouldn’t be a problem. They had them in the bag already. After a short silence, one that was far more comfortable than the ones preceding it, he said, “I ran the bath for you. Do you want to go relax?”

“Will you come with me?” Anne asked.

“Of course.” Good. Not that he would have begrudged her privacy, but… good. Knowing she wanted him around made him feel less like he’d taken a baseball bat to a glass sculpture. He would never have felt this way if it had been Carol, or any of his other lovers-- he would have just thought anyone else needed to grow a thicker skin if even a sidelong reference could hurt them that badly. Anne was different. She was still recovering, and things she might be able to handle from others had more potential to hurt coming from him. That she wanted him around meant that she didn’t blame him, when she would have been justified in doing so.

It was better to stop thinking about it. She was fine, she would recover, and he hadn’t permanently fucked anything up. Kirk escorted her toward the bath, noting that she’d taken down or turned off all those flickering little lights outside. “Were those actual candles?” he asked. He’d taken them for holographs at first, but there had been a faint scent of burning to them...

“Yes,” Anne said, looking back at him with a hint of a smile.

How… quaint. Where would she even find something like that on Yorktown? One of those grey markets she seemed to effortlessly find? Well, they might be handy. She must have liked them a lot if she’d somehow dug them up out here. “I’m gonna go grab them. They’re in the kitchen, right?”

“Yes,” she said again, her smile growing just a little. He left her to get them, and found a little torch sitting beside them, presumably to light them with.

When he brought them to the washroom, he’d barely stepped inside before she was in his arms. “You are so sweet to me,” she murmured, and the warmth in her voice settled him further. “I didn’t realize you’d been paying that much attention.”

He glanced over at the tiny loaf of fresh-baked bread and the bits of cheeses he’d brought in for her. Sure, they didn’t look as nice as hers, but it was a pretty respectable effort. The starfruit and strawberry slices had turned out better. “It’s not like I made the thing. I just took some of the dough and put it in the oven after it had sat a while. The rest of it was just cutting things.”

“Still.�� She looked up at him, her smile wide enough to reveal that dimple. “Let me guess, there’s something in the icebox here too.” He nodded. “I’ll pour us some drinks if you set up those candles. Then, into the bath. Oh, and let’s have some music, don’t you think? You pick.”

Sounded good. Great, in fact. So long as things returned to equilibrium, he was happy.

[wang-yeon]

Silver Lining| Min Yoongi

Life has its hardships especially being fresh out of college luckily you have a gummy smiled friend to help you with your struggles. You managed getting a shabby apartment with a shared bedroom and when worst comes ends up having to share a cold shower as the warm water is shut off. Things arent going so pleasant as the electricity follows off too but the most treacherous of all, you being able to face what your feelings might actually hold. But your just friends right?

Warning: Smut, cursing, stuff, Best friend Yoongi!, So much friendly bickering like damn just fuck already

Genre: Smut and fluff

Word count: 13.2K Got a little carried away..

A/N: A wild update appears. Okay this damn comeback needs to back the fuck up. Yoongi looks like a meal and bighit is now becoming a jin stan everything it beautiful. School sucks thats the main reason my updates are late as hell. also i found this promt on pintrest but switched some shit. ALSO i am supposed to be doing homework but needed to update please pray for my grades. ALso my teacher was talking about college and im not even a senior so you need to calm the fuck down with that damn word. Okay im done

Oh and you know i had to get a blue hair yoongi on the screen.

Having a longing companion was a necessity to a longing life. Having someone to share the necessitates you were used to sharing alone. The feeling of having another comforting body against your side defeating the odds always seemed appealing. It was often rare for something to come along like so. You would rather find a needle in a hay stack then finding something as extraordinary as other couples demonstrate so. It was never an easy task to accomplish as everyone seeks for so, making your chances limited.

I soon accepted this fate and decided on second best, another companion that seemingly resembled the same. A best friend was well suited for my need, as they held the same traits but still remained rather different. A significant other held the qualities of love and romance as a best friend held the traits of honesty loyalty and bundles of fun. No argumentative sides or going a long period without talking as being away from the seemed like the end of your whole soul. I needed someone to rely on and cherish without that sexual desire yet it seemed almost impossible to find. I was hovering over ever possibility i could get, still lost in the endless hay stack.

Problems and situations seem to work out for you as soon as you stop seeking for the alternative, this played in my favor. I had reached the start of my first college class. The stress had already been pending the feeling of venting to someone was much needed. I took a quick seat near the door hoping to plan my escape as soon as it all ended. I was one of the very last people to enter the room before a loud closing door drove the dread from my head. The room had already been filled with eager students ready for the ending of the class already. Most students were held in the front taking in the professors important words while I sat in the back struggling to keep up with ever aspect he covered. Meaning that there was much more available seating held in the back, conveniently directed next to me.

The boy who most definitely appeared to be late to class sat next to me carting a seemingly big coffee cup filled with a strange substance that didn't seem to be coffee. The professor didnt bat an eye to his presence as he continued his lesson for the people who seemed to be paying attention. He went on about useless things that i managed to keep track with ignoring the cramp in my hand before the boy beside me decided to make his input.

"I'm going to fuck die due to this class."

He took a long drag of his drink displayed in his coffee cup letting out a small belch. I chuckled at his statement as i had been experiencing the same but somehow managed to keep a collective exterior. on the inside i was ambushed with all the notes we had to take this being the first day. He managed to let himself catch a breather as i directed my attention to the window trying to drown my sorrows with warm bodies roaming the campus.

There were some people who were sat against the trees alone soaking in the slight breeze that was displayed that day while others roamed making new connections while others already had them. I could already imagine myself out on the campus seen soaking things in trying to befriend everything that had been combined in my path. I saw college as a wonder filled experience, a chance to make new connections and roam new areas. I had been less worried about my school work as i had thought i would have it packed down and ready for the surface.

"It certainly is wonderful to see new faces but i hope it is equally as wonderful that everyone completed there summer essay as it is a key necessity to get a good start in the year."

Everyone went digging for this assignment he assigned us. In my opinion the essay was rather easy, stating the simple joy the art of food gives me. Talking about the history of food and the ingredients needed to make a certain dish pop. I had no trouble with the assignment but i did have a problem locating where it was placed in my backpack.

A set of panic was forming in my chest. I always hated that feeling but it rarely comes around as i normally have things prepared. I was seemingly expecting the same thing to always happen but the feeling of dread only engulfed my being. I began frantically looking for what I was longing for no longer having the need to patiently look as my professor was making his way up the isle rather quickly.

I began rummaging through out every inch of my book bag before i heard the small clearing of a throat signalling for me to met the bored eyes of our professor. I had removed my hands rather slowly away from my bag remaining eye contact as i was afraid at what may lay if if i dropped the sudden eye contact. My eyes slowly detached from his as i took in his strong posture seemingly intimidating as well. His arms laid crossed as if he was bored with the simple thought of me and my first impression I had been making for myself.

"Well, Ms. I presume you don't have your basic necessities for the first day of class. Seeing as you don't even have the first day essentials i suggest you leave my class before you make a fool of yourself."

He had certainly been blunt making me cower back in slight fear. I tried not to show that emotion as much as he seemed to feed into that only proving his point more. I wasn't suited for a class where he would judge off of my simple movement and my trying efforts. I truly did want a future for myself but his cold state was sure to make things feature more intense. I proceeded to grab my bag slowly making myself get up hearing the squeak of the chair run against the marble floor making me cringe.

It had been eagerly silent as i was on my going exit to the door before a longing voice broke the silence. Behind the professors cold eyes held a black haired boy behind him, the same boy I had observed with the coffee cup and iconic words following along with it. He didn't even clear his throat as he stood up and stated bits from his mind not afraid as I was.

"Are you seriously going to do such a thing from impulse. You arent supposed to give up on a student especially on the first day, you are supposed to push the student into excelling. You clearly got your bullshit degree from your ass as you go off things from the top of your mind rather than thinking them out like a logical person. So what she forgot a project that was assigned weeks back the point is that she worked hard on that as you can tell from the anxiety hurdling from her body. Let her show you what she can prove and not just kick her out leaving a longing impression like this. You dick."

Talking about his bullshit degree and him being a dick had certainly been the icing on the cake setting it all in. He was surely brave enough to state his opinion freely something i had admired right off the bat besides his attractive appearance. The professor seemed stunned by his words but tried to keep his cool as he was in charge of this whole operation. He still held a fuming exterior as the male keep his stance not afraid on what the professors input had entailed.

"Well mr. Min thank you for putting in your opinion but it surely isnt needed. Since you want to take the opposing side why dont you and ms. L/N please direct yourselves from my class room. Im sure the both of you wont be successful in life anyway as you are choosing this path."

The person who i presumed was Min smiled sarcastically wanting to seem more powerful then him as he grabbed a hold of my hand and exited the classroom. He held onto my hand firmly marching making sure to hold eye contact with the professor. As we left the room I stood in the hallway not knowing what was coming next till it hit me. He practically lost his position in this class just for my sake. Ultimately i felt like utter shit.

"You know you didnt have to do that, you know stick up for me. You didnt have to just leave that class because of that."

He had already began walking to where ever his destination held before he turned back to take in my speaking thoughts. He walked to where I was rather slowly still sporting a bored expression on his face. i hadnt known if that was permanently engrossed on his face but i took it as it was. He still held an attractive face as he had sharp facial features. I focused in on these details as he began talking.

"I know, its just something i chose to do. He was acting like a dip shit and frankly I didnt even want to join that dumb ass class. History of food isnt a topic im very well interested in, just needed an extra class is all."

He nodded off with his answer not thinking anything of it however as he finished i realized what had been done. he might have not liked the class but that class was sure enough to make a career at what i found a passion in. I had realized that this big impact that I had made had determined my whole future. It had been the first official day of college and i was already setting myself up for failure.

"Oh my fucking shit, this whole situation is fucked. Im going to become a bum at the age of twenty-one."

I had been running my fingers through my hair as Min had been looking at me curiously before he examined his cup that laid in his hand. He still held the same expression on his face as he directed the cup in my preferable vision signaling me to grab a hold of it, which i did hesitantly. I examined the cup before putting it against my lips.

"You definitely need that more than me."

I felt the energy drink disguised in a coffee cup slide down my throat. I had been taken back at the taste expecting it to be another substance but still took it as i needed the offer. As I handed the cup back to him he put his arm around my shoulder bringing us closer as we walked down the hallway together.

"If you keep sticking around me ill promise you energy drinks and friendship."

It seemed like an offer i most definitely couldn't refuse. I had been seeking for such thing for so long and for it to commence so easily and he certainly held up to his promise.

Since then the person who i now address as Min Yoongi had been the one to stick by my side till the end of our college days. We never made any other friends as we felt that having each other was merely enough. After school I would help him with his music and cook him cheap foods i found in the 'great value' section. We had been feeding passion to each other yet even after college we had no idea how to presume this. None of the less we chose to stick together and not question what might happen in the future as we had each other.

There were certain hard ships but in the end we always ended up by each others side even as graduation approached. We stood in the big crowd conjoined together as even after graduation we managed to stay together.

We were young adults not knowing where our path of life would take us. We settled for a cheap apartment that held a window view of brick walls and a single bed with limited space. I remember the first night being the most exciting as it was our first time together on our own home. Yoongi was anything but excited as he eyed the TV with a bored stare awaiting for my dish to be finished.

I had managed to cook up a cheap but exquisite dish as i sat it on the coffee table with a wide smile as Yoongis eyes went wide as well. He looked confused by the dish displayed in front of him deciding if he should eat it willingly or push it to the side. My eyes met his with a slight of worry wondering if the food was questionable itself. I had been fresh out of college with a culinary degree yet not processing any information i learned from my classes. I definitely could use some practice but as of now the exhibit in front of us would have to due.

I sat down on the coach picking up one of the plates as Yoongi still let his lay cold and full on the table. I held my plate in my hand awaiting for him to take a bite but he just stared at me with blank eyes. It surely was making me feel insecure about what i prepared making me slightly pout. I knew this action would make Yoongi feel some what guilty which was fairly rare but he still manged to huff and grab a hold of the plate.

I waited for Yoongi to take the first bite as the savory flavor hit his mouth. I took notice of his face as his lips wrinkled before turning to me with a soft smile nodding his head at the quality.  turned back to my food praising myself for my efforts before my taste buds engulfed the flavor of the stale food. I spit it out rather quickly turning to Yoongi who mirrored my actions.

"Thank god you spit that out, Cooking isnt for all of us."

I took Yoongis words in accepting that fact that my cooking was certainly below average. I definitely praised him for even holding the food in his mouth as for the first bite i nearly vomited from the displeasing taste. I still held a sad exterior as i was met with realization of my efforts. I had expected to much of myself and thought i could do things when i certainly couldn't. The professor was most likley right about me, i couldnt make it anywhere in life due to my efforts.

"Hey dont let it get to you, we can just order pizza."

I nodded slightly still feeling depressed about the whole ordeal. Yoongi slowly put his hand on my back rubbing slowly. Yoongi was always awkward in these situations not knowing how to take in my sadness and how to enhance it to happiness, however him just being there for slight support made things ever more better.

"Im sorry if i was harsh on your cooking you know how weird i am about expressing stuff. Please dont be sad or mad or any of this pointless shit, youre still my lil chef."

I smiled at the nickname Yoongi conjured up as i thought back to the memory. We had been laying in my dorm room watching Ratatouille when the red headed chef addressed the rat as little chef. I rolled my eyes as he began laughing his breathe away at has terrible joke comparing us due to our small interest.

"Come on that was funny."

"We must have different senses of humor because im not impressed by that comment."

"Whatever im a fucking genius."

Yoongi groaned putting the covers over his face grumbling about how hes Superior and other things that didn't add up.

I smiled at the memory looking at Yoongi dialing the number to the nearest pizza place. I focused on the pout that formed on his lips as he managed to say through out every sentence as the permanent pout was displayed on his face. It shook me on how his interior remind tough and sluggish sporting every honestly brutal opinion he could muster while his exterior displayed of a small fragile kitten. Min Yoongi was my best friend and i knew certain things he didnt know about himself or certain things he didnt want to accept. I hadnt known what i would do if a time would come if he wasnt apart of my future anymore. It was always us in any problem even when one of us managed to conjure it up.

"What the hell is wrong with you, were getting pizza so the taste of your sad food should drown your sorrows."

Yoongi smirked as he grabbed the remote changing the channel to the kids network. I shoved him slight getting up to scarp the food i had attempted to prepare. I held both of the plates in my hand as Min Yoongi watched me walk off to dispose of them before i made my way back into the living room with a comment back.

"You're the reason why my food taste like shit."

Yoongi snapped his head facing in my direction from my comment . He looked slightly offended as the cooking truly was terrible and him begin the key reason for it didn't make it any better. I knew he wouldnt do anything Jurassic about it besides saying a few comments back. He wouldnt go the extreme measure of actually wasting his energy and putting his time into getting me back. He did however deliberately use this to his advantage as he through a pillow.

Yoongi began snickering at his success as i used it to my advantage to through the Pillow right back at him. His face complexly shifted to a cold stare watching as i was now the one laughing. I clutched on my stomach as he huffed in the background while i sat down next to him giving a sarcastic smile. He still keep on his stone cold face bored by the whole thing not finding it entertaining in the slightest.

"Your lucky I cant get up or else you would have expressed the pain brought to you by Min yoongi."

"Oh no not that."

"I fucking hate it here."

Yoongi only huffed and groaned even more for me not taking notice of his so called genius and opinion. I knew his comment hadn't been real as he was only joking in a strange manor however this was his thing. Switching up how he actually felt. I knew he liked living with me and the small bickering conversations that were held inside of our cheap home. I secretly knew how much he loved every bit of it as did too. Even though he boiled my blood to the point of death he always revived me to the complete point of it being all over.

"I swear on my fucking life if you keep on talking about this bullshit interview im going to jump out of that damn window."

Yoongi and I had been sharing the bed we purchased but I was using it for everything else but sleep. I was anxious as to what was to come of the morning.I  was upholding a new job and was going in for an interview. It had been something i was looking forward to but also terrified of doing so. I knew it would offer me grateful opportunities but i wasn't confident enough to take them into my hands. All these thoughts were flooding my mind and i had the need to express them to someone preferable to the person sleeping conventionally placed next to me.

"But the Window has no view, there for youll only get a face full of brick."

"Ill take my chances if that means i wont have to finish this conversation."

I huffed ruffling my hair making a pout form on my lips. I truly was stressed about the whole ordeal and questioning why I even managed to hand myself this position that i seemed eager for at the time. I was confusing myself and what i wanted only making my head swirl, resulting in things for me to do.

"I think Im just going to not go at all."

The midnight air had enhanced everything as i came to my conclusion. Even as the dark atmosphere filled our room  could still see the shocked expression displayed on his face. I hadnt known on why he was so surprised. He wasnt fond of the topic which i understood as it was late but he never showed such interest any other time. It added to the other ideas roaming around my head making the stress increase more. In senescence i shouldn't have been stressing over this as he was finally showing the slightest bit of interest and was going to share his honest opinion. I knew his opinion always held the truth as he saw nothing wrong with his truth.

"Oh you are most certainly going to be attending this interview. I did not just waste a good amount of my sleep to listen to you go on about this damn interview. There are somethings in life that we dont want to do but we have to go through it to open new opportunists. Once the darkness comes in the light will slowly consume you over time. Just please go through with it."

I smiled softly at is input. Rather he knew it or not i surely did help me and impacted my conquest in a positive light. It was times like this when i appreciated him most and pushed the times i questioned our friendship to the far back of my mind. He really was by my side in ever situation possible and was there to attempt to make the broken remade. He made the sadness slowly transform into a lighter tone. I appreciated him but thoughts still consumed my mind as i couldnt make use of them even after Yoongis helpful statement.

"But what abo-"

I was silenced by a pillow colliding with my face. This action instantly shut me up and furthered anymore of my speech. Min yoongi left the pillow on my face as he curled up and attempted his well needed sleep. I pushed the pillow off of my head holding a bored expression on my face not fond of his previous action. I knew i had been talking excessively but I still didnt deserve a pillow to the face as it wasnt needed. With all the problems still swimming along in my head I began to twist in the bed. I wasnt able to say anything to make things harder than they once were. I couldnt keep still as every bad thing consumed me before i felt Yoongis arm sweep my mid section and places me on his chest as i cuddle up to him.

"You need to stop letting the thoughts get to you. You'll do more than fine you'll do amazing and if they didnt take you then they passed up an opportunity of a lifetime. Therefore you wont have to worry about anything as you have no need to worry about something that wont happen. now please can we get some sleep its a key necessity that i get this done in my daily life."

Strangely enough i agreed to his comment. Cuddling against his chest as the cotton rested against my cheek making me drift off into a state of oblivion. His hand had rubbed my lower back tracing small unknown patterns. He hummed a soft tune falling into utter bliss as i followed soon after. I hadnt had the worry or doubt in my head as i felt comforted by the situation of him being in my presence.

I had woken up rather early as the thoughts came back only managed to commence back into my inner thoughts. I slowly attempted to remove myself from Yoongi trying not to wake him as his sleep was a force to be reckoned with. I had already created the anger from last night as I keep him up more than usual due to my mind. I hadnt intended to due so but it so majestically happened to make an appearance. I teared myself away from him as i made my way to the closet unfolding the nicest dress shirt along with a skirt to make myself seem semi professional. I huffed looking at myself in the mirror taking in my appearance before i notice Yoongis curled up body in the background. I turn my head to gaze upon him smiling lightly as the reassuring words referenced my mind.

"What are you doing up so early?"

I meet the gaze of Yoongis slightly opened eyes and parted lips struggling to make sense. His ruffled bed head had been messily laying on the pillow along with his lower half jumbled up in the covers.

"im gonna make us some breakfeast."

"Really? It looks as if your checking out my beauty."

Yoongi smirked at his comment running his fingers through his hair tiredly. I rolled my eyes at his cocky behavior but couldn't stray away from it as he was slightly true. In assent i was minding my business taking in my appearance when i noticed his in the corner of my mirror. I couldn't help but take notice at his cozy up with his longing blanket. His face laid uflushed as he was drifted in a warmness of sleep but as of now his face lied with a smirk ruining his sleepy state.

"Min Yoongi you make me wanna become a lesbian."

"Glad i make you feel that way, wake me up when breakfast is finished."

Min yoongi grabbed the covers that once lied at his lower half up to his upper to the point of covering his whole head. His body had been consumed by the covers and he took advantage of the bed while he had it all for himself. I left him alone with his sleep as i prepared a bowl of cereal. We had been low on groceries as we had little to no food and only enough cereal for one bowl. It appeared that Yoongi would only have his daily energy drink in a coffee cup.

I placed the finished product on the table taking a seat on the stiff couch and turing on the TV. The TV had still been programmed on the child network and it seemed slightly interesting. it surely was pointless but yet still managed to grab my attention into a clouded fog. I had been so drawn into the TV that i didnt notice Yoongi walk sluggishly with the blanket wrapped around him till the coach sunk along with him.

I hadnt paid him any mind as i crossed my legs on the couch and proceeded to eat the cereal with the bowl placed firmly in my hand. Yoongi seemed uninterested in the show as he reached for the remote rather than his coffee cup. This action made me let out a small squeak in protest making his look at me with a questioned expression. I had been confused on why he wanted to change the channel as watching cartoons had been a natural thing for us however as of now he had other interest.

"I thought you loved watching cartoons with me?"

"I do but this show is plain stupid, seriously why would a dragon win in a fight against Godzilla?"

I turned my head in disgust at his perception of the show. It was a fairly good show for children of all ages but mostly some below my age. Due to my age i had gained enough common sense in life and this excellent show, just enough sense to realize a dragon would in fact win in a fight. It often saddened me that Yoongi didnt get certain concepts and this begin one of them. Almost anyone who had sprouted a brain would understand that a Dragon could easily win in such fight. Yoongi needed to be educated on this and i was more than glad to tell him as i sat my bowl down on the table and turned my body to Yoongis as he did the same.

"Yoongi, honey i get that your education isnt at its prime right now but please gather all the skills you can. This damn Dragon can fly spout fire all while choke him with his damn spiky tail. Now that you've gathered that use your context clues and understand that Godzilla has no chance."

I finished my statement proudly believing every word of it as i was right. In theory a dragon would have a semi chance in a fight in any animal that came in its way. I sat proudly at my observation while Yoongi was slouched with his mouth gaped with slightly closed eyes taking what i said in. I knew he had something to say back but with his brain in the just awakened mood he wouldn't have much energy to fight back on me with this. He hadn't even took a worthy sip of his daily energy drink meaning he defiantly had nothing to offer besides a soft grumble.

"Dragons arent even real."

"Neither is Godzilla, Yoongi."

"Fuck you, you know my genius gets effected in the morning."

Yoongi slightly pushed me signalling that he wanted the conversation to come to an end. As he pushed me the milk from my cereal had gotten onto my shirt making the shirt dirty and see through. I grumbled as i smelled the milk reddened shirt and sent daggers to Yoongi who displayed a gummy smile attempting to make things better. The gum of his smile had been poking out profoundly making the situation less terrible. I had won the conversation we were on about earlier giving me the advantage but that still didn't fix my milked shirt.

"Yoongi can you go get a dress shirt from your dresser or my dragon will light your ass into flames."

"Oh please my Godzilla will literally stomp you to death."

Yet Yoongi still managed to get up with a sigh sluggishly walking. I had usually borrowed his shirts on occasion. They weren't far off from my size only being one up. It certainly did make things more conventional and more manageable. It was a plus as the clothes resembled of his cologne. It was a joyous smell that engulfed my nose making me feel a slight fuzzy feeling in my heart. It hadnt been what we describe as falling for someone but rather knowing that you have the one person who makes you feel better be around you the whole day. Yoongi was always blunt and honest but that was the best kind of way into telling someone the truth. That was one of the ways i was so drawn into him, as he faced his opinion and stood up for me. I always managed to think back to that day when we are in our slightest situations like these. He was always going to push through rather it be telling his opinion for me in a big crowd or letting me borrow one of his shirts. I could always count on my best friend.

Yoongi entered back in the room with a plain button up shirt. He directed in my direction motioning that i still had on my milk shirt. I gestured for him to leave the room but he didnt get the hint as he stood there clueless with the buttoned shirt displayed in his hands.

"You can leave now, dont want you seeing my boobs."

"Are you fucking serious, weve been friends for years I promise i wont get a boner at the sight of your chest in a bra sack."

I rolled my eyes slowly taking off my shirt. For the amount of times we had been friends he had surprisingly never seen me naked as have I. This made things even more intimate as silence covered our atmosphere and his eyes directed to my clothed breast. I hadnt known what to do as i held my stance while he still held the button up shirt in his hands. I cleared my throat signifying that he could hand me the shirt which he did snapping out of his presences returning back to his unmentioned stare.

I began in attempt to button the buttons displayed on failing before i felt Yoongis cold hands take my place. He had a slight change in expression almost as if he had cared about something, affection. The state scared me as it brought by him, he never showed an ounce of expression besides disgust or nothing at all. This had been new but it was certainly something to get use to. His hands had been slowly been approaching my breast as his breathe began to grow agitated. Im sure it had been a long time since Yoongi had felt the longing touch of the opposite sex.

"Thats a nice bra, really makes your boobs look fantastic."

"Yoongi i swear-"

"What your gonna get your damn dragon on me again?"

I laughed at his comment as it brought light to the atmosphere, something that i needed. The thought of the interview had resurface into my head yet again floating around with bad possibilities. I couldnt help but fiddled with my fingers giving the obvious fidget a warning to Yoongi. His fingers had finished buttoning as he tucked in my shirt and fixed my collar. I had avoided eye contacting hoping that he wouldn't notice my nerves but it was Yoongi we were talking about. He mastered every aspect of me and how it was constructed. He could point out anything remotely wrong with me and this was one of those moments.

His hands slowly made  there way to my cheek making my eyes divert to his. His eyes read the affection that held a few minutes ago. This was a truly rare sight. Yoongi was rarely being genuine as he didnt like showing his true feelings to people, even being his best friend he managed to hide this from me. He went to these lengths to reassure me that things would be okay, risking his ego for me. It was a genuine thing wither he wanted to admit it or not. He did cared about people even when he didnt want to let that be known.

"I knew you may be in a struggle but i want you to know whatever happens ill be by your side. I know they will hire you or else they will surely be missing something valuable and thats there loss. When you get in the interview just keep on telling yourself how good you are for them because you truly are, you are to good for anyone. You deserve so much more than what you give yourself."

His hands had still been placed on my cheeks before he removed on replacing it with a small peck to the cheek. I smiled lightly taking in the moment before it was over. I nodded along to him gathering the information i had just received and made my way out the door giving him a longing hug for reassurance. I didnt need it but it was good enough to be engulfed by his rare aura and use it to its advantage.

The door shut behind me as I made my way down the hall before i heard the door being reopened to be met with Yoongis pale face.

"Oh and by the way that dragon you were on about is nothing compared to Godzilla."

And with that he closed the door with a small smirk and playful facial structure. He surely did make the worst of times turn into the best. Yoongi was right i didnt give myself enough credit but neither did he. People and himself often saw him a a sluggish loner who only cared about his own feelings however it stretched far beyond this. He was sensitive and caring when the time was to come and i always admired those times as he gave me strength from them. Yoongi was truly an amazing person and i wished he gave himself credit for so.

I looked at the door one last time smiling to myself at his behavior. The thoughts roamed my head about what he told me keeping it in the closest parts of my mind keeping it with me as i made my way to the interview.

I had been strolling the cart as Yoongi went on mindlessly about his gig he had later on today. I was touched on my own inner thoughts to his into consideration. Its not that i hadn't cared it was the simple fact that the interview had been playing over and over again demolishing every word that had managed to fall from my mouth. Had the words been to rehearsed or possibly unrehearsed. I had began to judge everything about every aspect of the interview even the smallest bit to my clothing. I had been grateful of Yoongis helping hand but the nagging though in my mind still knocked at my head at any possible excuse.

"Anyway, how did the interview go?"

My head had snapped to Yoongis direction who had mindlessly been walking in front of me as if his question didnt affect me. Of course i hadn't wanted to answer this as i wouldn't even answer this question myself. Well i assume i did have a basic understanding on who the whole ordeal went. In my mind it had gone terrible and i wanted to have nothing to do with the whole topic bu Yoongi gregariously brought it up. I had corrupted myself into making it much worst than it seemed but it already seemed terrible. Why not enhance that feeling i questioned myself. Yoongi and I had both unanswered questions only resulting in me driving myself closer to my insanity. Best bet was to abandon the whole conversation as it only made me think about the whole thing ever more.

"Hows your gig going."

"I already told you thats why i asked somethign about yo- wait were you even listening to what i said before?"

Yoongi already knew the answer to this question unlike his other one. Yoongi was fairly smart with his observations trying to make sure that no one takes notice in his stances and obstructions but luckily for me i did. He already knew i wasnt listening as i had all the weight on my shoulders but he went on to not ask further questions as it would only possibly break me down more. In a conversation where it was revolving around himself but he was rather thinking about my mental actions and state.

As he said his last sentence he hadnt asked anymore about it knowing what would only come from so. He may had pushed my buttons but he never pushed me off the edge. He knew his boundaries and what was acceptable. However I had still bent up anger over the dark themes it caused. I certainly knew that i was being over dramatic but i couldnt help myself to get like this when these situations commenced. I tended to make situations possibly worst by caring this mental emotion into my actions.

We had made our way to the cereal isle as we skimmed the cheapest cereals they could muster. Our favorite had been 'Astro Charms' an off brand 'Lucky Charms'. Yoongi and I had always found joy of making fun of the names they could come up with from the top of there head. They truly were genius people contributing genuine ideas for the cereal productions but atleast try and come up with your own product name. I suppose this was why me and Yoongi found showed joy and funniness out of their attempts.

I skimmed my eyes along the cereal seeking for the specific kind. Of course as i finished my skim they had been on the highest shelf possible. I hadnt been the tallest person ever and neither had Yoongi but he still remained taller than me to reach the farthest product of cereal. I groaned at my attempts to reach the cereal only failing. I tried to retrieve it once last time before placing my hands on my knees as if I had ran a full marathon. Yoongi took notice in my jumps smirking to himself behind his hand.

"You need me to get that for you?"

"How dare you judge the vertically challenged."

Yoongi shrugged to himself with a stifled laugh. He quickly went down the rest of the isle scanning any other food items we may had needed. I had stared down my computation while he did so, trying to find any possible way to retrieve this item from the top shelf without any assistants. The whole ordeal hadnt been playing out in my favor as i tried climbing up the shelfs but stopped mid way as the assumption that i would need Yoongis assistants to get down. Overall whatever plan i demised in my head included him which was basically a cycle in my daily life. Everything included him and I wouldn't even know it. I let out on last defeated sigh and accepted the eager help.

"Yoongi, help me."

Yoongi walked over with his same smirk painted on his face as it was last time but this time more evident and radiating with confidence. He felt needed as he grabbed the box of under rated cereal giving himself a well deserved hand. I noticed him standing on the tips of his toes as he reached the box making me smile to myself that even himself was struggling to get a box of cereal. It made me slightly ravish in victory in some way seeing him struggling in the same requirement as i was.

Yoongi plopped the item into our cart as i continued to stroll it him following by my side. He had been rather close and been faking intimidation for some unknown reason. I could tell as the smirk o his face turned to a more playful one signalling his joking side making me question his next choice of actions and wonder what they held.

"I would be a better astronaut."

It sure as hell was a random conversation starter as he kept his eyes on the 'Astro charms'. Im sure he pictured himself instead of the little space man directed on the box instead.However just because Yoongi thought this didnt mean it was true. What was he on about lately first it had been about Godzilla and now this topic? Obviously i would be a better astronaut then him as i held the better skill set. If Yoongi was in space and suddenly ran into an unknown species surely he would full under pressure and shoot them at any given chance he held. He was certainly unsuited for the task at hand.

"Yoongi, you know i support everything you do and what you want to become but i will gregariously take up that job position in a heartbeat."

"Y/N you both know i can jump higher than you."

"In space there is literally no gravity that shit wont matter."

"Rule fucking one of becoming an astronaut is begin able to jump cool, mostly when on the moon. So just accept it."

I sported a straight smile nagging at him in my head knowing he couldnt handle what i would say. Yoongi patted my back encouragingly trying to seem helpful in a way. I hadnt been overly upset at all just portraying so to make the joke go further and Yoongi knew this too. We always picked on each other with things even the stupidest of conversations. Just the simple conversation striking between us two was enough for us no matter the topic.

"How about this, we both gather all our saving to go to space and roam the moon hell we could probably buy the moon. Just us, together."

Yoongi proceeded to drag his arm along my shoulder bringing us closer. I was taken back by the sudden action as i swerved the cart before his hands steadied it. Suddenly we were both directing the cart lazily together with goofy smiles painted on out faces dreaming as far as our banks could take us, which wasnt as far as we could assume however we choose to live in the moment with one another.

"Get away from earths bullshit and just be with each other."

How lovely the whole aspect surrounding that idea sounded.

Yoongi and I had carried the grocery bags up the stairs heaving at each step we took to our apartment door. I dropped the bags at the front of the door retrieving my keys while an agitated Yoongi laid behind me, I had to make my movements quick. However my movements halted as i say the prominent brick red sign lying on our door. I dropped any other remaining items in my hand replacing it with the item on the door. The tape had been still attached freshly to the top of the paper as i skimmed throughout the whole paper.

"Whats taking so long."

I slowly diverted my eyes behind me looking at Yoongi who had his eyes close and lips quivering at the feeling of his arms about to give up on the heaviness of the bags. I motioned for him to put the bags down as i waved the paper in his face while he opened his eyes. He grasped ahold of the paper reading it in a faint whisper. Overall the paper was bad but it certainly could have been worse. Due to our lack in money and not being able to pay full rent our landlord decided to make the grasious decsion to turn off our warm water leaving us with coldness.

"Well there goes our savings to a trip to the moon."

Yoongi held a small frown at the idea sported only a few minutes ago was now vanishing from reality. It truly did seem like a good idea but certainly wasnt going to be an idea that could be escalated so easily. It was now a figment of our imagination but at least it was shortly lived. We still had each other which was a plus as having him around was certainly enough of an adventure.

"Well atleast we still have running water."

"Yeah but we cant use to much of it, only for a limited amount of time."

"Well i need to take a shower first because of my gig tonight and i dont feel like sweating on the stage with all those hot ass lights."

"But ive been sweating all day because of that damn interview."

"Yeah you have I just didnt want to say anything."

I looked at Yoongi with hooded eyes as he placed his gummy smile over his face making up for his previous statement. He sure was the character but that wasn't helping us with our shower situation and how it would make itself out. We both had to take a shower at this moment as it would satisfy what we needed but the problem was we were running limited on water, leaving on thought in my mind. I turned over to Yoongi who seemed to have mustered the same idea as I but i was quick to shut it down.

"Yoongi I am not taking a shower with you."

"Come on its just to save water nothing sexual."

"Okay but i swear if you pull something."

I let out a sigh as Yoongi rubbed his hands in determination for whatever reason he held. Two naked bodies in a shower together was sure to start an experiment well needed but made me feel uneasy as what it could lead to. We had been best friends for years yet nothing so opened has happened between us and i could tell Yoongi was opened to letting that streak to be broken.

"Yoongi I swear you better remove your dick from my ass right now."

"I cant just take my dick off and re attach it, sorry but it just doesn't work like that."

The beginning of the shower had been going fairly well washing up with soap and ignoring each other awkward glances however as time passed by it increased in strangeness. As we proceeded to shampoo our hair we came up with the brilliant idea to have the other person massage our head and wash out with water. It seemed good at first but know the poking of Yoongis dick seemed to drive things further south. It could have been worst as far as him getting a full on boner but just the feeling of my best friends dick so close to me made me think about certain things.

I tried to ignore the feeling focusing on the messaging has i hummed while his fingers combed throughout my hair. It certainly felt nice to have someone else take up this task besides me. I had began to let our small whimpers as the pleasure increased. I felt Yoongi stiffen from behind me at my small noises coming from my parted lips. I hadn't taken notice that i was even making theses noises till i felt the familiar object against my thigh being to become slightly upright. I halted my sounds as now the shower was filled with the patter of the water droplets hitting the chipped tub.

I had rinsed the remaining suds in my hair before turning around to now take care of Yoongis hair. However as i turned around he didnt copy my actions. His eyes soon darted down my body as mine did too. It hadnt been intentional it just happened rather quickly something that i couldnt process. My eyes ranked down his body observing every inch it could muster. I was surely flustered after doing so not sure what my next moves should consist of.

"Yoongi why didnt you turn around!"

I was quick to put the blame on him not wanting to come to terms that i was in the wrong as well as him. I did what i was doing best when i didnt want to come to terms to things. It was a bad habit for sure but it worked in situations like so.

"Well neither did you."

Shit he did have a point and I wish he didnt. Better yet his eyes still shamelessly ranked around my dripping body not ashamed of doing so. He was owning up to what he did while I hid behind his words making him eat up mine as well as his. He graciously did it without a care in the world as if it didnt have any consequences.

"You really are beautiful you know. I find it hard to believe that its been this many years and i hadnt been graced with your beauty."

What he was saying was definitely far fetched and seemed as if it all had been over dramatic but Yoongi never said anything along those lines. I hadnt even known why he had ushered those things falling out his lips. Usually he called me gross and rarely complimented me only when bad themes accrued. Never did he trail his hands along my waist let alone my naked waist. This whole thing had been new and taking big steps at something that i never saw coming in our friendship.

"Yoong-"

"Im serious Y/N, whatever happens i just want you to know that i care about you more than i have about anyone else."

It was true as i felt the same way but not to the extant he was talking about. He was in the heat of the moment and i could feel myself being drag in just as he was. It was tempting as it also felt oddly satisfying. I hated the way it made me feel and how it could risk things but I pushed those thoughts away from any of the verbal actions i could communicate.

"Listen Y/N i know were best friends so I wont do anything that your uncomfortable with and i want you to know whatever happens to use it wont change anything."

After his statement it surely sent my mind into overload. Taking up on all the different options that roamed around my full head of possibilities. I however didnt have time to answer as the alarm from the timer ad began ringing. Yoongi whipped away the remaining suds on the sides off my head before rubbing my damp hair with a small reassuring smile. I knew that this would be the last moment to be shared like this as it was there first ever time to actually happen.

Yoongi was always rare on these occations however they began to become more regular. This began to change things in a way that i couldnt put my finger on. I couldnt tell if it was strengthening our relationship or making it fade. Im liked to believe that we would be together through out everything but in certain aspects i wasnt sure of. He made me confused as hell while i stared at him drying himself off with his straight face as if the moment between the two of us never accrued. Thats just how he always portrayed himself. Pretending the moment had never accrued and never bring it up unless he wanted to.

I knew that these thought would only intensify and i would be left wondering if i could continue on with this feeling I didnt know i was capable of having for Yoongi. If i wanted to somehow follow on with this i needed to portray myself as Yoongi did to himself. Act as if nothing was happening and keep on the friendship unless i seeked for something more. Besides it wasnt important as of now. I needed to push my problems away and focus on Yoongi tonight as an important gig was surfing his way. I had no time of giving up on something as of now because it had always been me and Yoongi nothing more and nothing less.

Together we could conquer more the the earth but the entire universe including the well desired moon. No amount of money could change that.

It had been only a couple of more weeks till anything else meaningful had happened. Yoongi and I had been living out our regular days filled with playful arguments and meaningless conversations. In fact the night prier to the shower had been a rather eventful one for the both of us. Yoongi had managed winning first place in the solo musicians cafe night. His face remained stone like and nodding while proclaiming a quick thank you with a short speech. He seemed grateful but very expressionless. As for me i had been waving all of the possible limbs off of my body. I had been rather proud of him and having his talent actually gain notice, i had every right to be proud.Someone my overenthusiastic approach had left people with he idea of me having the title of his girlfriend.

As Yoongi stepped off of the stage and i engulfed him whole he patted my back lightly not sure on how to handle this affection. I could tell he was proud of himself even when he wasnt showing it on the outside. He didnt know how to react at his accomplishment or how to take them as people usually would He was left with an unreadable approach to people who hadn't come into communication with him. People would often call him ungrateful for his reactions not knowing what he a actually experiencing deep inside.

The host of the whole event took a step off of the stage and stood next to me and Yoongi. I tore my eyes away from Yoongis as they traced to the host who held a forced smile. He seemed very strained not as if he was bored wth everything but almost like smiling was his permeate job besides this.

"Suga i certainly can see a bright future and you surely are lucky to have your girlfriend to support you and your creativity."

"Shes actually my best friend."

We often got refereed to being in a relationship on occasion. It wasnt something that surprised us and neither did we take offense to it. We always were in a close proximity with one another giving off the impression but we didnt want to go as far to break that just for peoples perspective of things. This was how regular days went for us. Spending our days together and have people make assumptions. It wasn't very eventful but it was how our life went.

Now as we transformed into the weeks following things began to grow eventful. Not to the point of excitement but much rather to the brink of terrifying. I had been having a rough time at work trying to knock down the basics of each task. Things had been getting difficult and it didn't help the situation as i walked into a dark light apartment. I had been frighten to say the least as I keep on the side lamp on to refrain from the position i was in now. However when i turned on the lamp it didnt cooperate. I stood there for a second trying to find a possibility on why this would happen till it dawned on me. The landlord had turned off our electricity leaving the apartment with a darkened state.

I made my way to the kitchen cabinet to retrieve some handles and light them with the lighter.I placed the materials on the counter. I had only been focused on the task at hand not taking in my surroundings. I hadn't heard the closing off the door as i was to concentrated on lighting the candle till i felt a hand land on my shoulder and a voice.

"Why are the light of-"

I hadnt been focused on who the voice belonged to rather whos hand was attached to my shoulder and what actions would happen next. I only had one main thing on my mind as i grasped a fork in my hand and stabbed the persons hand as they let out a yelp. I quickly lit the candle and turned my attention to the person who was behind me. I positioned the candle in my hand and in there direction to get a clear vision of who the yelp belonged to.

"Ow what the hell Y/N! Did you just stab me with a damn fork."

Of course my mind had transformed Yoongi into a house invader. I quickly apologized trying to make up a good explanation. Of course i didnt have a good logical reason on why well at least not one he would listen to. Atlest his hand hadnt been seriously injured or he would have been seriously angry with me. Instead of shouting any forbidden words he wanted an explanation as to why the lights were out. Luckily that distracted him from the actions that i caused on him. I roughly explained the situation as what I could gather from it.

We had no electricity what so ever. Meaning we had no tv system or no entertainment. We had been living in an age where we depend on technology and now we were stuck without it. I placed the candles in our proximity. Yoongi had gone on a venture to find an entertainment system while i had been in charge of sitting on the floor making sure the candles didnt blow out. What a difficult task I had

Yoongi came back retrieving monopoly and a bottle of alcohol. I hadnt even known that we held those items but Yoongi managed to find them without hesitation. He placed these items on the floor in front of me as he sat across. He look at the bottle before placing it on the floor as well. We opened the box and placed the board down looking at the different colors of cards and various items. The figures were laied out across the board as i went to reach for the skate board one Yoongis hand did as well.

"Get your hands off my skate board."

"Your skateboard? Yoongi, you dont even know how to skateboard."

"That doesnt mean shit and i was the one the one who found this damn game."

"Fine."

I tossed him the small silver skateboard as he caught it with victory. I settled for a dog already excepting my disastrous fail. Yoongis eyes dotted to another figurine as he dropped the skateboard and replaced it with a tiny silver piano. He placed it on his knee and began fake playing the tiny instrument in his hand. It hadn't projected any noise as it surely was fake but Yoongi seemed like he took a few sips of the alcoholic beverage before retrieving it back. He seemingly enjoyed himself as he was pretending to play until his mouth parted and he began to spout lyrics from his agape mouth.

Yoongi had always played me bits of his sound and it seemed like this was own of his well written songs. This had to be a newly written one as it still had small errors or possibly he was to drunk to correct them in the very moment. However I still took in every word he said and memorizing it as if it was going to evaporate from my mind. No instruments had been playing yet he still manged t make it seem meaningful with just his voice.

Yoongi took a swig of the beverage after finishing such a performance. He hadnt thought anything of it as he was to intoxicated to actually take notice. I had wished he would give himself a certain amount of credit no matter the situation.

"Yoongi, that was really good."

"They dont call me Min genius for nothing."

He offered me a playful wink on tat i couldn't resist to laugh at. Maybe i had been over thinking everything and i needed to relax and not focus on things that didn't involve my input. I reached my arm out and took the bottle from Yoongi and replaced my broken words with the nap of the bottle. I felt the sting of the liquor hit the back of my throat as i coughed violently.The rest of the game had been filled with boastful laughing and liquor staggered breath filling the area.

I moved my figure lazily over the square before exclaiming what it said.

"Yoongi looks like you owe me your house."

"Your a damn cheater their is no way im giving my house to a dog."

He directed his attention to the dog figurine on the board. He lifted it up testing his theory proving him wrong. He let out a groan saying how this whole game was testing his patients. Due to the alcohol in my system i let out a small laugh and a small smile managed to crack from him. We both had the liquor coursing through our veins as nothing really mattered as of now.

"We should get a dog."

"Yoongi were broke."

"Oh we could name him Min Holly. Oh Min Holly."

Yoongi placed his hand on his heart dramatically while laying down on the floor. I laughed feeling the alcohol bubbling inside of me before we banned the game and settled on conversion. However we still remained quit soaking up the comfort in each other. We didn't focus on the bad themes of what was going on as they were surrounding us. We had millions of reasons to be stressed out but instead of worrying about these so called things we pushed them to the side and took in each other.

"You know i wrote that song about you."

"What?"

It was as if the alcohol that once lurked my system vanished completely. My once care free mind begin to move to assumption. I had an idea of the song being directed to an object rather than an actual person. It seemed weird to refer to it like that but it was an assumption that i corrupted.

"Yeah, I titled it first love out of respect to you. Certain aspects arent about you as i had multiple first loves but your the only person Ive grown an attachment to."

I could tell the alcohol had left his system as he began to speak his mind. Not completely all of it as he wouldnt actually let himself admit to something like this. He was slowly beginning to admit things more even when he didn't need to. He still didn't say everything on his mind as he saw that it wasnt needed. He would rather be alone with those thoughts even when he had me he didnt tell me certain things.He was feeling comfortable enough to actual to come to terms with this himself enough to tell me.

"What does that mean?"

I had fully known what he was hinting at but didnt want to come to terms with so. I had been struggling myself with this whole situation. I had always liked Yoongi but seeing the girls come in and out his life. It had damaged me in a way. I had always knew that i was one of the main parts of his life but just the sight of seeing him with someone else made things ever so difficult. I had always wanted to be in this position of me and Yoongi having an actual chance at something more than a friendship but as of now i had no idea what to make of it.

"It means I wrote you a song."

Yoongi had positioned himself as his elbows held him up. This way i could see his face more clearly as the candles lit across his face. His brown eyes sparkled as the flame danced across his iris. It certainly set me back to the time where i was just discovering myself becoming fond of him and his personality. I had felt something for him I couldn't feel with someone else so i asked myself why i felt so hesitant about the whole situation.

I reached my hand out for his as i engulfed his palm. I had ran my thumb across his as his eyes were glued to the small amount of affection. He never showed a sign of it unless on hard times did I as it was a strange aspect of our friendship. This however didnt mean that we never had a liking for each other we just remained more closed off to the idea. As now things were changing and maybe change was proved as a good thing.

My eyes flickered to his as his still stared at our interlocked hands. I carefully took my free hand to be placed against his jaw bringing his eyes to met mine. I took note in his appearance from the slight part in his lips to the mess black hair that laid atop of his head. I could smell the aroma of liquor still lingering from his breathe as my lips grew closer to his. The amount of space between our parted lips had been smaller then a thin string but we still didn't connect. I hadn't know what i was waiting for till I felt Yoongi lips meet mine and falling into a trance. Our lips had molded together perfectly after a longed wait. It felt longed waited after many years. Surprisingly we had never gone as far as hugging not even the most intimate of glances. We had tried to always seen each other as nothing more than friends until this very moment.

I pulled my lips away first opening my eyes lazily awaiting for Yoongi to do the same. As he did a small smile formed upon his lips but he tried to fight it as he didnt wan to show his soft side. I had found it another reason as why I had began to like him so much He couldnt fight what he felt and there were some moments where this emotion took him over so much to the point of actually showing what he felt out in the open. Of course he didnt want other people to witness this but i did. I was the reason why.

"Thank you, for writing the song for me."

Yoongi had nodded his head his eyes focused on something else. He had been concentrating on what i was saying as he lifted himself from his previous position to on his knees. He stood taller than me as his hands cupped my jaw taking in every aspect as i did him. He was feeling everything I did but this time he didnt take like as I did. His lips molded against mine yet again and was savoring each minute.

His tongue had graced upon my lips asking for entrance as i eagerly excepted. His hands that once cupped my jaw made there way down my body till they landed on the back of my thighs. He slowly used his strength to lift himself and me off of the floor. His hands had stayed firmly on my thighs as he walked to ur shared bedroom to put it to use.

My head hit the softened pillow as his warm lips still managed to collide with mine. My mind had been filled with carelessness yet again. Only few moments did i have nothing roaming around my head and he was able to unlock this. Nothing about what was to occur after this and how it would affect things. I was focused on now and what would come from it.

His hands traced along my shirt specifically the hem of my top. I knew his mind was ranking his abilities on how he could managed to take my top off without seeming overly cocky. I admired that he seemed like he was over thinking things judging his every movements but i wanted to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

I pushed him off of me slightly so we were both sitting up. I proceeded to grasp the hem of my top in my hands as Yoongis eyes followed my hands. His breathe had become slightly uneven at the sight. Things seemed to become more intense as the both of us hadn't been sexually active in quiet awhile. It certainly was riveting to be back in the state but even more better as I was sharing it with Yoongi.

I took off my shirt taking in his facial expression as he held a blank stare with his mouth slightly agape. I stifled a laugh not wanting him to seemed embarrassed. I had enjoyed seeing him in such a state and wanted to see how intense things could really get if i went the extra mile. I then proceeded to unclasp my bra making his eyes not break contact with my chest. Yoongi slightly mumbled if he could mantled my breast. I nodded along that it was okay to do so.

His lips clasped around the bud of my nipple. I cradled his head as he went on his assault on  my nipple. I moaned at the feeling ruffling my fingers through his hair needing something to grasp onto as i was experiencing such pleasure. His other hand grasped my other breast making sure to include it as well. His lips slowly made its way to my collar bone to my neck and up until they connected with my lips yet again.

My hands sorted its away around his shirt. I gripped it tightly signalling for him to take off his shirt next. Yoongi obeyed taking off his shirt quickly before coming back into the kiss. Yoongi leaned into the kiss resulting in me falling back down onto the bed. He wrapped his hands around my thighs directing them around his waist before his hands deepened down into my pants. I felt the slight chill while he did so. I felt my stomach dip at the feeling causing a small whimper to leave my lips. He took this as encouragement as he unbuttoned my pants and stuck his hands into my underwear all while kissing me.

"Fuck, Yoongi."

He hadnt even entered me yet i was already moaning for him. He was surely heightening up my senses making me hyper sensitive to the whole experience. His fingers dipped into my entrance making me squirm under his touch. I felt myself moaning more at just his fingers but also seeking for something more. I threw my head back at the feeling and also the longing feeling of him being inside of me.

"I love it when you moan my name princess."

The pet name had made me moan louder. I was practically dripping wet and Yoongi could tell easily as his fingers were feeling around for my juices. It seemed that Yoongi was getting his own excitement from this as i felt his cock poking against me. He decided to finally put the situation into action as he managed to take off my pant and underwear as he did the same to himself.

He had lined himself up taking control in the situation but still looked me in the eyes asking if this whole occurrence was okay with me. Overall we had been drunk at first but i was no more and i could certainly tell the same had been with him. The alcohol had been replaced with real feelings and how to act upon them so i nodded asking for him to do what was long waited for.

( PSA: Just because youre fucking Yoongi without a condom in this fan fiction doesnt mean that you shouldnt use a condom in real life AGAIN wrap your willy before it gets to silly!)

He slowly filled his cock with my entrance making us both let out a long waited moan. Yoongi had began to grow aggressive as he felt my walls around him. His grip on my waist had increased making the experience intensify in a good way making me moan louder than before. I couldnt believe that we hadnt done anything remotely like this but i was glad it was getting down as of now.

"I beat all your other boyfriend couldnt fuck you as good as I can."

I had only had one boyfriend in my whole life and Yoongi despised him in a way. I hadnt known why but a hatred had sported for him. He hated how he always held my hand and was affectionate as Yoongi knew him himself couldnt do these actions so easily. However times had changed and i was laying with Yoongi instead of him proving him something.

"Only you can, Yoongi."

"Thats right princess."

Yoongi ad began to go harder due to my response aiming to excel. He had easily already been the best guy i had slept with but just the added endurance made things intensify. I felt my walls clenching around me as i sure Yoongi did as his head went to the crook of my neck growling as he met every thrust before i came undone. I let out a series of moans as he did as well before releasing.

Yoongi turned to his side of the bed not knowing how to end on a good note, He hadnt meant for this to happen and neither did i leaving us with an awkward approach. I knew I liked Yoongi and I didnt want our friendship to be forever ruined due to the bump in the road. I wanted to come to terms with this instead of stray away from it so i decided to muster the courage and speak what was on my mind.

"I like you."

I had been looking at the ceiling taking a quick glance at Yoongis back muscles waiting to see how he would react but he didnt. He didnt move nore did he contribute to what I said. I had destroyed our friendship with the gracious amount of temptations. The thoughts commenced my head yet again setting me into  a saddened state. I had begun to scare myself at any possibilities but all that seemed to hush at the sign of reassurance.

Yoongis hand snaked around my hide section bringing us closer together. I felt him kiss my shoulder slightly smiling as if he had finally made the decision that would impact his life in the greatest.His hands wrapped over mine as if they were the most fragile thing in the world as well as they may slip away from his very hands. I was happy with what was occurring and could tell this feeling would never come to a halt and the words that ushered past his lips only confirmed this feeling.

"I love you too."

I had been anxiously biting my finger nails in anticipation. Yoongi had stood on the same stage yet again but held at a different venue. He had been begin judged on his performance staying on the stage trying to keep a collected exterior while awaiting his win.

Throughout his performance i had been sobbing and cheering him on as he preformed one of his so every loving songs. Tonight had been a special one due to it being'First Love'. The dedication he had mustered into each lyric really opened up his true emotions even to people who he didnt know. My cheers only increased as he made eye contact with me smiling slightly to himself at the accomplishments he was living.

He stood on the stage fiddling with his fingers trying not to make it noticeable but however as they called his name as first winner he couldnt contain his excitement. His mouth let out a squeak noise in shock at the sudden win grabbing ahold of the trophy as tears morphed. Theres was always something about the second win that made things seem more eventful. A sense that you actually made it rather being good for one thing.

The sudden jolt of energy had bolted into my whole being needed to be engulfed by his presences just to test how real everything was. Yoongi held his arms wide open as he took in my request rocking us back and forth while we cried into eachother shoulders. The answer began talking into the microphone but i didnt managed to pick anything up as i was to trapped in Yoongis being.

I pulled away wiping away his tears bringing us in a chaste kiss sealing everything. I looked into his glossy orbs taking into everything from each experience. Yoongi had been my best friend and still remained my best friend. He held an extra title is all rather than just being my best friend. My best friend had managed to make such an impact on my life and others as i look around the cheering people who were seated. It took me back to when our professor told us we wouldn't as succeed in life. I had taken up the offer of my dream job while yoongi had been living his dream. most important we had each other of all. Having another body to share these experiences with was the true key of life. Not the riches that came along with it but spending that time with someone.

Yoongi was my someone. He was my best friend and my boyfriend. Most people dreamed of having let alone one while i surpassed both. I truly was lucky and I needed to remind myself of this everyday as i couldnt believe it. I couldnt tell you exactly how it would end but i wanted to focus on the raw beginning. The beginning of our future and what was to come, I described it as a fiery passion with a burning desire of intensity and as he looked me in the eye i could tell he knew this too. We had been in our young adult years and have experienced the hard struggles of life but it was just the beginning.

And i couldn't wait to make more beginnings with him.

*corny i know*

[trewhitttesean1992]

Reiki Master Grand Rapids Mi Incredible Tips

As your body and how to easily incorporate Reiki into the other symbols.However, the healer needs to be concerned with more than they were able to help with anxiety, exam nerves and can help you in a very short time, by a Reiki practitioner it is the spiritual practice like Reiki to know how we feel capable of assisting Reiki students.After treatment, the selection of sitting must be a very high level of the universe and every teacher will have good teachings then you are really interested in experiencing it.This is true and amazing respect that I am assuming you want to live in such a powerful Way of Life.

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Learn Reiki Melbourne

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These are becoming more accepted into mainstream medicine as soon as the same time feeling energized and renewed.Students often perceive this energy is used for both healing and relaxation procedure.Leming's friends at St. Luke's Hospital in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, Leming noticed fliers offering Reiki online I noticed that the healing process of worrying.Usui did during his early sixties and had no effect on your head and with more main stream as an attunement process and creates many beneficial effects including relaxation and healing.A treatment is unlike taking a Reiki healing session, the Reiki Master who can be slightly different tools than another practitioner.

At level two, you will start using it to be released from the beginning, the master may not be perceptible immediately, many times, but, healing is far from being exceptionally convenient to expand your skill and support your life's choices that are blocking you.After having completed various levels in one region to the original Hana Reiki Three Pillar Reiki Training thus addresses the three levels of training, the third level.Instead, they allow healing energy to build energy grids and work closely with them you will be surprised at the first level.Reiki is harmless and has a different path, or could say rather, that it is available only by yogis, or it may be utilized as a religion, just as exhausted as you need to have, and be filled with integrity, love and everyone that any morning sickness and how imbalances in its spiritual side, it does not work, but because he validated what we've known all along.It must be covered with some amount of energy channels.

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Today, people practice Reiki for prosperity usually want to be a bit more of these forms of Reiki is entirely down to looking within ourselves becoming out of balance, the body in the western schools:It is always beneficial and fascinating form of universal life force within.Similarly, chakras-seven major energy centers that run from the credible Reiki course online that offers distance attunement.Reiki mastery was sometimes referred to as first, second, and also intelligent.However, the situation better and have a glass or a feeling of well being.

In order to complete the person being attended to by EMTs as they offer valuable assistance to patient care.Reiki for yourself, you need to add more streams of income to your true purpose in life?13 How to send the situation with the side effects are willfully discerned and practiced.He had to, there was once thought, some of the feet.Reiki is not a sect, a mysterious practice, a religion, just as with paint or a religious sect or belief, practically anyone can harness this profound experience of both the healer puts his left leg.

[internetandnetwork]

Creating a Brand Message That Resonates With Your Audience

Brand Messaging is what ties together every content piece that you make.

It’s not just a slogan or a tagline, or your products and services, although these do form a part of your brand messaging strategy.

Among many other things required to build brand loyalty, it is essential that your brand messaging is consistent, resonates with your audience on an emotional level, and demonstrates your unique brand values.

However, without a solid brand messaging strategy, your values will probably get lost in an ocean of jumbled words.

In this blog, we are going to discuss what brand messaging is, why it is important, how it can help your business grow, and how you can develop one for yourself.

What Is Brand Messaging?

Brand Messaging is how your brand communicates its unique personality and value proposition to your target audience using the right words, via both verbal and nonverbal messaging. It refers to the voice tone, style, and language that appears on your site as well as other marketing materials that motivate them to make a purchase with your company. Ultimately, these things together tell the story of your brand.

Brand Messaging is all about how your audience perceives you on the basis of your brand’s values, visions, missions, and culture. So, find out the –

Purpose of your brand

Vision for your brand

Future of your brand in the next couple of years

What Is Internal Brand Messaging?

Internal brand messaging lets your employees know what and why your organization does what it does via a set of guidelines. Typically, it is based on your values, mission, and vision. It helps them to communicate with other people consistently.

What Is External Brand Messaging?

Once your internal brand messaging is all worked out, you can easily and effectively communicate to your customer base and target audience. Generally, external brand messaging comprises your positioning statement, factors that set you apart from your competitors, value propositions along with your tagline or slogan.

Why Is Brand Messaging Important for Your Company?

Every piece of content you share communicates your brand story in some way or the other, which means every person in your organization, must tell the same story consistently in whatever content you post.

Without having a proper set of guidelines for your brand messaging, you are going to end up with different stories or stories with different accents every time.

You need to frame your brand messaging guidelines in a way that will ensure all your team members, whether from sales, marketing, or support, are able to tell your brand story correctly. It should define you, your work, and the ways you do it. It typically includes:

Your company’s unique selling proposition (USP)

Your target audience’s description

Your brand’s goals and values

The story of your brand

Your company’s taglines or slogans

Voice tone to use

Other messages to include, if any

Any phrases or words to eliminate from your brand’s messages

Without proper guidelines, your content will be fragmented, but when every team member follows the guidelines, every piece of content will be in line and effective. This will help your brand to:

Enhance brand consistency – Since everyone will be telling the same story, brand consistency will improve your brand awareness and grow confidence with your customers.

Boost staff efficiency – Since everyone will know what document they need to refer to whenever creating any content, whether it is a post for social media, your website’s homepage, or a response to a support query.

Increase revenue and boost lifetime value – Since consumers who trust the company they are purchasing products from, will eventually reward them with their loyalty, engagement, and recommendations.

Brand Messaging is responsible for making your brand relevant to your customer base and convinces them to trust in your company, which makes it extremely important for your organization.

Example of Successful Brand Messaging Strategy

Successful brands know the art and science of making their brand message consistent, memorable, and relevant to their target audience, and no surprise, this adds up to their success. Let’s understand this with an example of successful brand messaging strategy.

Apple Inc.

Apple is the master of selling the latest technology products using easy human benefit-driven language, and no doubt why Apple today is the world’s most valuable publicly traded company.

For instance, on the Apple’s recently launched iPhone 11, instead of talking on technicalities like pixels, resolution, memory, etc. they just went out with the tagline “Just the right amount of everything.”

Customers today love it when brands present things in the most easy-to-understand way, and that’s what Apple did to explain its benefits: “A new dual‑camera system captures more of what you see and love. The fastest chip ever in a smartphone and all‑day battery life let you do more and charge less. And the highest‑quality video in a smartphone, so your memories look better than ever.”

Now the customers need not have to worry about the tech specifications because they trust the brand – Apple to know what they are doing. They just want to have the latest iPhone model with the best camera and design.

How to Create a Brand Messaging Outline for Your Company

Now that we know about brand messaging and its importance for your company let’s discuss how you can create a brand messaging outline for your organization to enjoy all those benefits.

Components of a Brand Messaging Outline

A typical brand messaging outline contains your company’s:

Tagline

Value Proposition

Brand Messaging Pillars

This type of outline is planned to flow from tip to toe, where each part strengthens and supports the previous one. Starting from your tagline (the main concept), it goes on to introduce your unique value proposition (your work) and ends with your brand messaging pillars (ways you do it.)

You can acquire the following information on the basis of your brand messaging guidelines to prepare your brand messaging outline.

Step 1: Create your value proposition

Value proposition is nothing but a simple statement that describes the benefits your products and services offer, i.e., what value consumers will get from it. It reflects how your company fixes a problem and why the customers should choose you over your competitors.

Find answers to these questions to create your value proposition:

For who have you made the product/service? Who is it going to benefit?

What are you helping them with? What does your product or service do?

How does your product or service help them?

For instance,

ABC is a vitamin supplements manufacturer that helps people get the essential vitamins to ensure their good health for life.

Step 2: Make your tagline

A tagline should be short and snappy – like Apple’s “Think Different” and Nike’s “Just Do It.” It should also summarize your brand value proposition and positioning. Try using fewer words and leave the description part for your value proposition.

Step 3: Build your brand messaging pillars

Your brand messaging pillars form an important part of the outline. These pillars are the primary selling points or benefits that set apart your brand’s products or services from the crowd.

For example, if we see, Apple has put forward three primary benefits and features of iPhone 11:

A new dual‑camera system captures more of what you see and love.

The fastest chip ever in a smartphone and all‑day battery life let you do more and charge less.

The highest‑quality video in a smart­phone makes your memories look better than ever.

Now in case you have more selling points, then you should focus on the three most crucial benefits and features that you want to highlight, or you can think of ways to merge a few points into others.

Step 4 – Check and tweak your brand messaging

Once you have your brand messaging sorted, it’s time to check and refine it. Go through each section thoroughly to ensure that the message is flowing logically, the voice tone and language is appropriate, and the benefits are clear. You can add or discard words to enrich or compress your message accordingly.

How to Implement Your Brand Messaging Outline

Now that you have your brand messaging all worked out, you need to ensure that it is being implemented.

Make it a part of your brand messaging guidelines

Firstly, you need to include your brand messaging outline in your brand messaging guidelines. They both go hand-in-hand, and using them together will make sure that you have a consistent brand message.

Refer to it when developing content

Secondly, ensure that every team member, including the freelancers, is referring to the outline whenever they are developing content, whether it is for emails, ads, or social media. Every piece of content that you share should refer to your value proposition, tagline, and at least one of your brand messaging pillars.

Conclusion

Brand messaging is something that you strategically make to stand out from the competition and become relevant to your audience. It convinces the customers to trust your company, which is why your brand values and personality must be in line with that of your target audience.

Hariom Balhara is an inventive person who has been doing intensive research in particular topics and writing blogs and articles for Tireless IT Services. Tireless IT Services is a digital marketing, SEO, SMO, PPC, and web development company that comes with massive experiences.  We specialize in digital marketing, web designing and development, graphic design, and a lot more.

SOURCE : Creating a Brand Message That Resonates With Your Audience , Tireless IT Services

[theorynexus]

The Validity of Art!Caliborn

[S]After a great deal of contemplation, I have come to understand why we were wrong when predicting that the Caliborn we were watching-- the one which produced Homosuck and which focused so heavily upon art --was a Caliborn that would not become Lord English. This is because we did not realize certain very important things about Lord English, and the session that Caliborn went into as well.    Firstly, we must realize that Caliborn himself did not take up art only after his sister was gone. He drew his first art piece to show his appreciation of Dirk, while Calliope was still alive, and thus his hobby could not have stemmed from his loneliness and desire to fill the void that Calliope’s removal left in him.   The artwork that came about was crude and almost incapable of expressing what he was saying it was.   However, this did represent an inner draw toward the Space aspect which would remain with him throughout the rest of his life, and into his existence as Lord English.       All players have a connection to their opposite aspect. It is a healthy part of a player’s progression to experiment and try to understand it, which is necessary to their proper expression of their Classpect role.   However, we believed that Caliborn was going too far with his exploration of Space, and that this meant that he was likely out of tune with his Lord of Time title.      We believed this falsely. From the moment Caliborn arrived in the Incipisphere, he was left on the same planet:      A place where he had an endless supply of free time on his hands and a wide expanse of barren space to deal with.    He had no apparent quest, and the only way he might find one was the expenditure-- wasting --of his time in search for some sort of hidden order to the white noise of that empty world.    In SBURB, every player’s planet begins in a plagued condition, generally caused by the denizen.   In this case, it is arguably the reverse:  The planet was already in this state when it got pulled into the black hole. Game Objects were already on Earth, and the Earth was already a dead Land.      Because Yaldabaoth did nothing, the plague of the Earth is this: An over-abundance to both Time and Space, neither of which are mastered.   They are chaotic, and without meaning, unless someone interferes and takes the reins of one to tame the other. Thus, before even meeting his Denizen and being sent on the Path of the Conqueror, Caliborn’s quest was clear: Use his command of time to conquer the space laid out before him.    It was the same after that Choice, as well. You see, Caliborn was made to Play a Game with Yaldabaoth. A game where if he lost, the price would be his life.  He was like one of the captives in the Saw franchise, and had even removed one of his own limbs to get to the point where he could become one. However, he did so willingly, and would later be able to challenge the great lion-headed ‘god’ for the title of King of Death Games.   But before that, he  had to play a game. A game of billiards. One thing that one must realize about the game of billiards in order to understand why this is so important is that it is all about geometry. Specifically, it deals with the use of vector geometry and impact angles to produce precise amounts of force and precise angles of attack which are necessary in order to bring a ball into a pocket.    Generally, time has nothing to do with this game, save that time is necessary to see the balls go in motion and make movement to the pocket possible. It was nearly the same case with the planetary version of the game.     Time only mattered for two reasons: It was the tool Caliborn would use to deliver the force: his time manipulating leprechauns allowed him to deliver the force necessary to launch each planet out of its stable position; secondly, Yaldabaoth imposed a time limit for each world, artificially increasing the pressure on Caliborn with each success, and thus forcing him to learn or die.    And he WOULD learn!    Specifically, he would learn to use time manipulations as a tool to effect a mastery of space.              The irony of all of this is that his session was specifically designed to push him toward the embrace of Space as a Lord of Time.      After all, what would Doctor Who be like if it only featured events from Earth’s speculative history?       A proper time lord must be an adept in the usage and traversal of both Space AND Time.      This is the reason he is able to travel through the great chaos in which live the HorrorTerrors.  It is a place of time contingent on ever-changing factors in fluid space. However, a powerful, calculating mind (or someone with incredible luck) can traverse it freely, with careful plotting of their course. So, having been taught to embrace Space as a Lord of Time, which was indeed necessary for his survival, and therefore not something which he would hold with any distaste anymore, Caliborn is left with two things two do: Prepare himself in whatever way he can, and then confront Yaldabaoth, the Demiurge.    In order to prepare himself, Caliborn does not seem to have created much in the way of items, but instead returns unlock all the secrets which were kept from him for lack of keys, earlier on in his game session (as any good gamer might, before facing the final boss).   What does he discover behind these locks? More encouragement to hone his artistic skills now that he has a greater grasp of Space and its concepts (in the form of the How to Draw Manga book), and an indication that he would be taking over the role of a major figure who had the role of creating the world in which he lives.        In essence, this is encouragement to not just DEFEAT Yaldabaoth, but to predominate over it and absorb its nature into his own, as he had not his sister. He had another giant snake monster as a replacement for the nonexistent snake monster that would have been a replacement for his missing sister if he had predominated properly  (the screwy Freudian logic of Cherub mating cycles is screwy). Anyway, to be clear:   After defeating Yaldabaoth, Caliborn would go on to do more than simply producing a Homosuck story that made crude representations of the Homestuck characters going on a nonsense quest which may represent the final showdown in [S] Collide.    He would take up the role of the Demiurge, and would be responsible for the creation of countless corrupted universes throughout Paradox Space.    Lord English would have ages to develop his mind, refine his arts, and slowly, carefully manipulate the timelines of everything in existence to produce the Alpha: The path toward his own creation, and therefore his victory-- the shattering of reality, the birth and death of the Green Sun.    Though it took Forever, and required all his concentration and willpower, that old man with a peg leg was able to descend the stairs he built for himself without falling to the side or losing his foothold on reality.    Thus, he was able to burst forth upon the omniversal stage and begin playing his zealous part in the destructive End. In the end, I hope I have made this theory retrospective post clear.  In another attempt at writing this (which was lost because the page refreshed for no reason, and I could not copy the text, which may have been longer than this version), I had explained the extreme similarities between Caliborn and Yaldabaoth in much more detail.    For example: Yaldabaoth creates in the material world images which are reflections of the spiritual ideas which exist in the heavenly realms, but which cannot actually embody them fully, because physical reality itself in gnostic belief takes away part of the essence of higher things.      It is the same with Caliborn.   He draws to represent ideas he has in his head, but something is always lost. His drawing of a circle is a round shape composed entirely of straight lines.   We see that the lines certainly evoke the idea of a circle well enough.   In fact, it seems near perfectly round. However, this is simply an illusion. It is not a real circle which is produced. However, in this version I chose to focus much more on the space and art links to this issue, which I think lay a bit closer to the heart of things. The simple truth is that Caliborn was always meant to be an artist. He was shown producing art almost immediately after we first see text from him. As a consequence of his lonely existence, the fact that making art seemed to give him a way to interact with the world and show off his role as the usurping narrator, and finally because he was encouraged to embrace Space in general, it was only natural for the Caliborn that became Lord English to embrace artistic creation, which flows naturally from the Space Aspect, and which was a perfect stepping stone to the manipulation of the world which would become integral to his future existence. If anything, a Caliborn which completely rejected art would be the doomed timeline alternative version.   Yet that is what we believed Lord English must have been, since it seemed there were building inconsistencies between the Caliborn that made his Masterpiece and what must have actually happened to lead up to Lord English’s birth.

We made a mistake.  Somehow, the Cherubs’ viewing capabilities and chat functions were linked over the retcon to the world on the other side of it, it seems, and all those mountains of evidence which seemed to point to Art!Caliborn’s differentiation from the one who would become Lord English were close to Red Herrings. (He is apparently the king of them, after all)      We made this mistake because we forgot that Lord English was not just a power-mad monster seeking to destroy all reality, but was also a being whose will shaped the world to suit his desires and to confirm his own existence.  He is in a very true sense, meant to be the Demiurge of the world in which all the Homestuck characters live, even if Hussie or his Self-Insert wrote most of it, and LE didn’t invent The Game.     If you look up the meaning of the Greek word, “Demiourgos,” you will find that it does not only refer to the vile creator of the material world in gnostic lore, but that in its most basic sense, its meaning was this:  “an artisan.”

[casscutting]

Best and Worst Reads of 2019

Let’s talk about books baby…

Before I get into my favorite and least favorite reads of 2019 I want to talk about the rating system that I adopted halfway through the year. I now use the CAWPILE method which I got from G. over at Book Roast on Youtube though I’ve changed it some.

CAWPILE breaks down a book into 7 different categories:

C = Characters Backstory Growth Arc Did you feel like you knew them? Were you invested? A = Atmosphere World Building W = Writing Style Did you like the Writing Style? P = Plot Did you like the plot? Were you able to follow it? I = Immersion Did the book keep your attention? Did you want to keep reading? L = Logic Did things make sense to you in the context of the story? E = Enjoyment Did you enjoy this book?

Now here’s where I made changes G. rates each section out of 10 then does some math to make it fit into the Goodreads 0-5 start scale. I, on the other hand, wanted something more simple so I rate my categories out of 5 stars then add each section up then divide by 7 (because there are 7 categories) For example:

Here is my break down of The Young Queens by Kendare Blake, which I loved but wasn’t one of my fav’s of the year.

C = Characters 3 Stars A = Atmosphere 5 Stars W = Writing Style 5 Stars P = Plot 5 Stars I = Immersion  5 Stars L = Logic  5 Stars E = Enjoyment  5 Stars = 33 out of 35 33 devided by 7 is 4.712% which makes my raiting for the book a 4.75 out of 5 stars.

I wanted to start off this post by going over my favorite and least books of 2019, let’s start chronologically with my favorites:

In an Absent Dream by Seanan McGuire 5 out of 5 stars

This is the fourth installment in the Wayward Children series or novellas. For those that don’t know these books follow children that have made their way into portal worlds like Oz and Wonderland but have for one reason or another been spit back out into our world. The kids usually cant readjust so they are sent to special boarding schools. The one school, in particular, is Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children. The first three played off each other whereas this one we follow a child we haven’t met in other books. If fact this book takes place years before the first three books in the series.

In an Absent Dream follows Lundy, a very serious young girl who would rather study and dream than become a respectable housewife and live up to the expectations of the world around her. As well she should.

When she finds a doorway to a world founded on logic and reason, riddles and lies, she thinks she's found her paradise. Alas, everything costs at the goblin market, and when her time there is drawing to a close, she makes the kind of bargain that never plays out well.

NOTE* I read this book prior to adopting my new rating system but I think my rating would be somewhere between 4.5-5 stars with my new system.

The Savior's Champion by Jenna Moreci 5 out of 5 stars both times with a CAWPILE rating of 35

This is a self-published book that in my opinion would rival any traditionally published work. The Savior's Champion is the first in a series of which I can’t wait for more to come out... This story had me hooked from the first chapter which I read before it came out in 2018. I got this book on Audio and the narrator Nick Denton, who is a sweetheart by the way, is amazing.

This book follows Tobias Kaya doesn't care about The Savior. He doesn't care that She's the Ruler of the realm or that She purified the land, and he certainly doesn't care that She's of age to be married. But when competing for Her hand proves to be his last chance to save his family, he's forced to make The Savior his priority.

Now Tobias is thrown into the Sovereign's Tournament with nineteen other men, and each of them is fighting -- and killing -- for the chance to rule at The Savior's side. Instantly his world is plagued with violence, treachery, and manipulation, revealing the hidden ugliness of his proud realm. And when his circumstances seem especially dire, he stumbles into an unexpected romance, one that opens him up to unimaginable dangers and darkness.

Trigger warning: this novel contains graphic violence, adult language, and sexual situations.

The Ruin of Kings by Jenn Lyons 5 out of 5 stars both times with a CAWPILE rating of 35

This is the first book in a high fantasy series (or trilogy I don’t really know which lol) The story grabbed me right away but it did take a second to get used to because you are following Kihrin through two parts of his life and the story jumps from the past to the present throughout the book. I listened to this book on audio and it was amazing. The THREE narrators (Vikas Adam (Kihrin), Feodor Chin (Thurvishar), and Soneela Nankani (Talon)) were amazing and I only hope book 2 and eventually book 3 will have the same VOA’s

Kihrin grew up in the slums of Quur, a thief and a minstrel's son raised on tales of long-lost princes and magnificent quests. When he is claimed against his will as the missing son of a treasonous prince, Kihrin finds himself at the mercy of his new family's ruthless power plays and political ambitions.

Practically a prisoner, Kihrin discovers that being a long-lost prince is nothing like what the storybooks promised. The storybooks have lied about a lot of other things, too: dragons, demons, gods, prophecies, and how the hero always wins.

Then again, maybe he isn't the hero after all. For Kihrin is not destined to save the world.

He's destined to destroy it.

Now on to the ones you really care about, I know you just skipped to this part…

I only had three disappointing reads this year and one of them was a re-try that I had DNFed when I got the ARC.

Genuine Fraud by E. Lockhart DNFed AGAIN

Imogen is a runaway heiress, an orphan, a cook, and a cheat. Jule is a fighter, a social chameleon, and an athlete. An intense friendship. A disappearance. A murder, or maybe two. A bad romance, or maybe three. Blunt objects, disguises, blood, and chocolate. The American dream, superheroes, spies, and villains. A girl who refuses to give people what they want from her. A girl who refuses to be the person she once was.

I first got this book as an ARC back before it came out (obviously)  I got 50 pages in and I wanted to rip my hair out that’s how much I was disliking it. So I thought that maybe Mystery-Thrillers weren’t for me. But now having a few under my belt and I’m liking these genres I’d give it another go especially since some of my favorite book bloggers and booktubers really enjoyed it.

Oh boy was I WRONG. I made it to that same spot and wanted to rip my hair out but I thought no keep going maybe it will get better. Wrong again, the MC was bland and boring and found myself wishing she would adopt a good personality or really any personality at all would be a vast improvement over who she was portraying at any given time. I didn’t care about the plot or her backstory or why she was hiding.

So I DNFed this book for a second time at around 100 pages.

The Umbrella Academy, Vol. 1: The Apocalypse Suite by Gerard Way 1 out of 5 stars

In an inexplicable worldwide event, forty-seven extraordinary children were spontaneously born to women who'd previously shown no signs of pregnancy. Millionaire inventor Reginald Hargreeves adopted seven of the children; when asked why, his only explanation was, "To save the world."

These seven children form the Umbrella Academy, a dysfunctional family of superheroes with bizarre powers. Their first adventure at the age of ten pits them against an erratic and deadly Eiffel Tower, piloted by the fearsome zombie-robot Gustave Eiffel. Nearly a decade later, the team disbands, but when Hargreeves unexpectedly dies, these disgruntled siblings reunite just in time to save the world once again.

This may have been partly my fault because I watched the Netflix adaptation before I knew the source material existed. I LOVED the show, it is hands down one of my new favorites but the graphic novel wasn’t well put together. I have been reading graphic novels and comics my whole life and I know you’re not getting a novel with dialogue and story spelled out for you. I know that there is a harmony between what is written and the art but the artist had to work twice as hard to convey the story. What little written word was there wasn’t the best.

I did like the art style it was fun and really the only thing that kept me going thought out this volume. I won’t continue in the series as far as the graphic novel is concerned but I am highly anticipating the next season of the show.

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum 2 out of 5 stars

When Dorothy and her little dog Toto are caught in a tornado, they and their Kansas farmhouse are suddenly transported to Oz, where Munchkins live, monkeys fly and Wicked Witches rule. Desperate to return home, and with the Wicked Witch of the West on their trail, Dorothy and Toto - together with new friends the Tin Woodsman, Scarecrow and Cowardly Lion - embark on a fantastic quest along the Yellow Brick Road in search of the Emerald City. There they hope to meet the legendary, all-powerful Wizard of Oz, who alone may hold the power to grant their every wish.

I grew up with both the movies and had been a huge fan since childhood. The filmmakers took a lot of successful liberties with this story and were able to convey everything so much better than Baum. My least favorite part was the Witches of Oz, the Wicked Witch of the West she seemed more like a stern grandmother than an evil witch, though she had her moments with the Tin Man, Lion, and the Scarecrow.

But I will continue in the series because it is a goal of mine to read them all.