#experience some fucking whimsy for once in your life

[cuntvonkrolock]

"i hate theatre" and i hate YOU 🫵

#experience some fucking whimsy for once in your life #i may be cringy and loud and obnoxious but i'm genuine and i'm happy and i'm having fun #which is more than i can say for people who hate theatre

[missamyshay]

what gravitated you towards peter & mj, what is about their relationship and characters that make you want to write them so often?

also i literally love everything that you write i didn’t think it was possible to love everything someone posts but here we are 🤭

Oooooo Anon, you have made The Ultimate Mistake of asking me The Perfect Question. I hope you have time on your hands…

Let’s start with Peter.

This might seem like a detour (I promise it isn’t), but I grew up watching Dr Who (if you’ve never seen/heard of it a quick Google search would be fun—it’s a very weird, very English show). And a lot of the same things I love about The Doctor are the same things I love about Peter Parker. There’s something so captivating about following the journey of this person who is at once both an invaluable hero and an absolute menace to society lol. A person who creates half of the problems that they solve and who is completely unhinged and often reckless but is also the one person you’d want around in a dire situation. A person who has probably seen a little too much, lived through a little too much, and still somehow has the ability to possess all the whimsy of a child and such a lust for life. A person who is so deliciously flawed. I love the undercurrent of grief that sets the foundation for what these characters choose to do with their lives, but also the abounding message that There Is Always Hope.

Although I have my issues with Far From Home as a story, it contains, in my opinion, one of the best Spider-Man moments across all the movies: in which he gets hit by a high speed train, wakes up in the middle of nowhere…and just fucking walks it off 🤣 That’s peak main character energy and such a great example of what makes him so freakin’ annoying (awesome).

And now, to the beloved MJ Watson.

MJ, in my humble opinion, is canonically Built Different. Being beside Peter Parker is simultaneously the safest place and the most dangerous place to be all at once. It’s both the most fun and most frustrating place to be. And MJ navigates that with such finesse. She’s her own person who forges her own path (many different ones) and doesn’t let Peter consume or dwarf her. She has a complex and intricate life of her own, and yet is still able to find enough space in her heart to love, unconditionally, this guy who is not just one person but two people in one. I think she’s one of the few people who understand the entirety of what it means to be Peter Parker, and that’s a really big thing.

I think there’s a reason why writers—both in the comics and in fan fiction—can’t seem to keep them apart. As evidenced by their history across the comics—the inevitable tragedy of them, the loss, the suffering, the reconciliation, the passion—they’re two characters who are destined to orbit each other forever.

As for why I write them—

It’s something I only really started doing in the last couple of years. I’m definitely not a veteran here lol. For a long time I was just a reader, mainly because I didn’t think I had the capacity to take on these characters and stories that are so well loved—especially when there are so many other people who do it so much better than I ever could. I read some of the comics growing up (but have to admit that I was more interested in the art than the plots at the time), and like many readers rediscovered my love of the characters through their few iterations on film. These films, and many of the fics I’ve read over the years, have led me back to the comics I grew up with and perhaps didn’t appreciate as well as I should have. So, in short (but actually quite long), me writing them is me showing appreciation for them. For the complexities of the characters as they were created, BUT also the possibilities of seeing them in new lights informed by my own experiences and writerly whims.

I’m sure this is a hell of a lot more than you bargained for, dear Anon, but if you made it to the end of this near-nonsensical ramble, then thank you very much for your time lol.

And thank you, so much, for reading my work, and loving my work. You have no idea how much it means to me. 🫶🏾

#as previously stated #sorry for being intense about everything #but also #it has happened again #peter parker #mj watson #spideychelle #amy words

[hermithomebase]

"dream's music isn't good because--"

art does not need to be "good" or have inherent worth to prove its existence

people make it to express themselves regardless of or even contrary to if you like it

try drawing with no experience for once. even if it's a stick person doodly it'll be yours and for fun. have some fucking whimsy in your life, hoe (anons, not you) - ina

slayed, no notes

#prompt.input

[averykedavra]

If you’re feeling up for it could you please do 3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.” With Roman and Janus. Thank you!!

(Wow, you all really like roceit, huh? This is my sole prompt for today as I caught up on homework instead, but I’ll be back tomorrow, if canon doesn’t break me)

Words: 3981

“Okay,” Janus said. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” Roman flinched and pulled at his apron. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Hold on a second,” Janus told the customer in front of him, who opened their mouth to ask a question. Janus made a zip it gesture before pushing off the counter and dragging Roman into the storage closet. The door automatically closed, and Janus kicked the wedge into the gap before it slammed.

Hidden among racks of coffee beans, Roman seemed to relax. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned forward to kiss Janus quickly on the lips.

“You okay?” Roman asked when he pulled away. “You look stressed.”

“Of course I am, I’m on barista duty.” Janus glanced at the door. He could hear the customers babbling, but if this was an emergency, they would survive without a dead-eyed barista to hand them coffee. “What’s wrong?”

“What, do I need an excuse to see my boyfriend?” Roman placed a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “I love you!”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Janus said, though he allowed himself to preen at the affection. “You’re harried and there’s coffee all over your apron. And you’re supposed to be lifting boxes. What happened?”

Roman sighed and deflated like an old balloon. “The shadow demons are holding the place hostage again.”

“Again?” Janus groaned. “What is that, three times this month?”

“Yep.” Roman popped the p.

Janus sighed and glanced at his feet. “What do they want this time?”

“Dunno, but I can assume the usual.” Roman waved a hand. “Annihilation and destruction and blood to drench the floors, et cetera et cetera.”

“Great. This shift was too quiet.” Janus untied his ponytail and retied it, pulling all the strands taut. “Any casualties so far?”

“The coffee machine stopped working again.”

“Those bastards.”

“I’ve been telling you to get an exorcist,” Roman said. “Honey, this is just going to keep happening.”

“Am I in charge? No! Ask Patton, whenever he actually shows up.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Besides, exorcists are scam artists and religious nuts.”

“We have demons,” Roman pointed out. “You can believe in shadow demons, but not in exorcists?”

Janus rolled his eyes again. “That’d be a large chunk of the budget. If it matters to you so much, ask Patton.”

Roman huffed. “I’d much rather talk to you! Because I like you!”

“Sap.” Janus glanced at the door again. “We’d better hurry. What’s the details of this one?”

“Runes on the basement wall. Can’t decipher them. Virgil’s guarding the door to make sure nothing escapes.”

“Runes. Should be easy.” Janus wiped his hands on his apron and wished he’d made himself a shot of espresso. Saving the coffee shop was always easier while buzzed on caffeine. “Lead the way, darling.”

“Gladly!” Roman grabbed his hand, kissed it, and pulled Janus out of the storage room. They passed a clamoring crowd of customers, and Janus soaked in the final glimpse of sunlight. It was a busy day. All the more reason to solve this problem before it threatened any customers--they didn’t need another one-star Yelp review.

Of course, they could just move. Or, probably more reasonably, burn the cursed place to the ground and stab the ashes. No good could come from a shop so deeply filled with shadow demons. But Patton insisted--through email, the few times he actually responded--that the place had value to the community. Janus doubted that, but he wasn’t paid enough to object.

Capitalism. The only reason he took this job. It had seemed too good to be true that they were hiring without any previous experience. And, as Janus feared, it was.

Still, perhaps it would be good for his resume. Worked as manager-by-default at Spirit Cafe. Practiced at taking orders from no one, fighting shadow spirits, bartering for the life of an unlucky intern, and making espresso.

“Capitalism,” Janus complained as Roman led him downstairs.

“Yes, love, I know.”

The basement was two levels--the first was called the ‘chocolate factory,’ and the second, ‘spider hell.’ Roman had named the first in a burst of whimsy after rereading the Willy Wonka book. The second was self-explanatory. The second was also home to most of the demons.

When Janus passed the few employees around, they gave him a do we have to evacuate look. He responded with a don’t think so, keep toiling for the man look. Roman gave them all a perky thumbs up.

The second set of stairs were too greasy to make out their color. It was old legend that the posters and artwork grew older the farther you went--the cafe on the top floor was fresh and bright, and the chocolate factory was decorated with motivational posters that were splattered with coffee. Spider hell was devoid of intact decorations. Just old photos with faded edges, a few outdated certificates of health, and torn motivational posters.

For example, the poster on the door to spider hell. It had a kitten image, and was probably supposed to say Hang in there! The bottom was torn off. It just said Hang.

Roman opened the door and bowed dramatically. Janus sighed, kissed Roman’s cheek, and entered spider hell.

The hallway itself was clean, if a bit too reminiscent of fluorescent middle school halls. Most of the doors didn’t open. Janus kicked one as he passed, and the narrow window glinted back at him. Door, door, old bathroom with moths around the lights, door, mysterious graffiti--

Virgil, who breathed a sigh of relief and slumped against the door to the boiler room. His apron was tied around his waist like a sweater. Behind him were several wooden rods, a few floorboards, and balled-up motivational posters, all jammed against the door to keep it locked.

“You’ve been busy,” Roman said. “Is that a folding chair?”

“I had to be careful!” Virgil pressed closer to the door. “I’m too young to die! I was gonna steal some metal from the pipes, but Janus would have been mad.”

“Correct,” Janus agreed. “We’re going to deal with this situation, alright? You can go cover for me upstairs--we need another barista.”

“I can leave?” Virgil whooped. “Oh, thank fuck, I’m gonna get the hell out of here. Have fun.”

“We will!” Roman said.

Virgil saluted them, then raced down the hallway. “Gonna expect a pay raise for all this!”

“Take it up with Patton,” Janus yelled.

“Don’t blame things on your imaginary friend!”

“He’s not--”

The door slammed behind Virgil. Janus turned to Roman petulantly. “He’s not imaginary. I’ve seen him. Once.”

“Sure,” Roman said.

“Ugh.” Janus rolled his eyes. “Why do I keep you two around?”

“Well, Virgil’s the coffee machine whisperer! And I’m devilishly handsome.” Roman winked at him. “You can’t resist, dearest.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Janus turned to the door. “In we go?”

“Into the breach, dear boyfriend.”

It took several minutes to pull the obstacles off the door. Virgil had managed to pound nails into the doorframe, probably in sheer panic, and Roman kept pausing to nurse splinters. Janus pried the folding chair from the door, tore off the posters, and kissed Roman’s hand when he asked. Finally, the door was clear enough for Janus to force it open.

An unwritten rule at the coffee shop was to keep flashlights everywhere. Behind every door, on every table, and in every pocket. Janus pulled his own out of his apron. Roman did the same.

At first, the boiler room looked normal. The huffing pipes, tossing steam into the corners, and the grimy concrete floor. Then Janus’ flashlight skidded onto the wall, and the beam illuminated a series of runes burned into the plaster. Each letter was about the size of Janus’ head, and the edges were rough, like they’d been clawed there.

“No blood,” Janus noticed. “They’re losing their touch.”

“I’m assuming that’s a message.” Roman walked forward and squinted at it. “Can you make anything out?”

Janus tried to put the squiggles into some kind of order. It looked like a few dozen letters, but he couldn’t be sure, because they blended into each other and made his head hurt. “I have no idea what that says.”

“Darn.” Roman folded his arms and flickered his flashlight on the runes like a strobe light. They did not magically coalesce into something coherent. “Logan’s not here, right?”

“He’s off-shift.” Janus thought for a second before pulling out his phone. “I’ll text him.”

“What if he’s busy?”

“The customer is always right, and always comes first,” Janus said while unlocking his phone. “Customers don’t want to die. He can spare a moment for us. And I’m his manager-by-default, so he has to do what I say.”

“Fair,” Roman said, giving Janus the you’re very cute when you’re in charge smile.

Janus would have teased him about that, if they had time. Instead, he just shot Logan a text. Can you decode something?

Half a minute passed.

This is important, Janus texted.

Ten more seconds with no response.

I will fire you, Janus texted. We’re all going to die, Janus texted. This is an emergency, Janus texted. Our deaths will be on your conscience if you keep ignoring me, Janus texted.

“Maybe he just hasn’t seen the texts,” Roman pointed out, leaning over Janus’ shoulder.

Answer me or I swear I’ll fucking find you, Janus texted.

“Dearest,” Roman said.

“What?”

Before Roman could say something endearingly naive about ‘compassion’ or whatever, Janus’ phone buzzed.

What do you need? Logan had texted back.

Janus held up his phone and took a picture of the runes. Fortunately, they showed up on camera. The picture still mysteriously corrupted mid-message, but when Janus re-sent it, Logan sent back a thumbs up.

What does it say? Janus asked.

Logan typed for several seconds. Finally, Janus received a small wall of text. He skimmed it, closed his eyes, and opened his eyes again.

“That’s not English,” Roman said hesitantly. “I’m not losing it. That’s not English, right?”

“I think it’s Catalan.” Janus sighed and thumbed out a response. That wasn’t English, try again.

Apologies, Logan responded. I’ll try again.

Janus waited impatiently, watching the small white dots as Logan texted. Roman dropped a kiss to his forehead for no apparent reason. Janus did his best not to blush.

Finally, Logan sent a small paragraph, followed by English?

Yes, good job. Thank you.

No problem. Stop texting me more than once or I will block you.

How dare you, I am your manager.

No response. Janus resolved to discreetly spill coffee on Logan’s shirt on their next shared shift.

“What’d he say?” Roman asked, impatiently jumping from foot to foot.

Janus skimmed the paragraph. “It looks like a riddle. ‘What walks on two legs--’”

“Human,” Roman interrupted. “Oh, that’s an easy one!”

Janus shook his head. “‘What walks on two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look?’”

For a second, they were both quiet.

“That’s not a human,” Roman finally said, a bit weakly.

“Humans don’t tend to gain limbs, you’re correct.” Janus let out a breath. “Analogy or not, human is not the answer.”

“Then what is it?” Roman turned to the wall again. The letters dripped like burns down the wall. “We--I’m assuming they want us to solve the riddle.”

“Yeah.”

“Why a riddle?”

“Sometimes you get bored,” Janus said. “I get it.”

Roman looked incredulously at him.

“The bigger question is what happens if we don’t guess it,” Janus continued, tapping his fingers on his phone. “Definitely something good.”

“And how much time do we have?”

As if by agreement, they both looked back at the door. It had slammed shut. The only light were their flashlights, illuminating the hulking boiler and the dustiest corners of spider hell. No spiders yet, but it was only a matter of time. Janus could almost hear them rustling.

“That’s not going to open,” Roman said, his voice pitched up. “Is it?”

“Only one way to make sure.” Janus strode over to the door and tugged on the handle. It was like tugging on a concrete wall. “Congratulations, you win a prize.”

“Wonderful,” Roman exclaimed. “Fabulous! We’re trapped here!”

Janus stepped back and rammed his shoulder into the door. The only thing he achieved was shoulder pain.

“I’m gonna call someone.” Roman pulled out his phone. The blue light trembled over his face. “Get us out of here.”

“We haven’t solved the riddle yet!” Janus protested, giving up on the locked door. “Solve it, and we leave, and the shop won’t be in danger.”

“I’d rather be alive, thanks!”

“Coward,” Janus murmured, scanning the room for immediate threats, and finding nothing but shadows and cobwebs. That didn’t mean nothing was there. It just meant they still had time. “We have to keep the shop from burning down, it’s the bare minimum of our jobs.”

Roman ran a hand through his hair. “And what’s it to us? I hate this job, and so do you.”

“Patton would fire me if I didn’t--”

“So get fired!” Roman burst out in frustration. “Let this place go up in smoke, I don’t care!”

“There are people in here! We need their money!” Janus waved his hands around. “Capitalism!”

That made Roman snicker, which made the tension settle, which made Janus smile back.

“You can leave if you’d like,” Janus allowed after a moment. “If you can find a way out. I can try to solve the riddle on my own.”

“What? No! We’re in this together.” Roman grinned at him. “If my boyfriend is stubborn enough to face down shadow demons like an idiot, I’m going to be an idiot with him.”

“Charming,” Janus said sarcastically, to avoid saying something extremely sappy. “You truly know how to treat a man.”

“I do!” Roman smiled wider and gestured at the runes. “A very smart man who will definitely solve this riddle!”

Janus nodded and turned back to the wall of runes.

Two legs in the air, and eight legs on the ground. It must be an analogy, like the original riddle, but what could air and ground represent? Imagination and reality? Or perhaps the legs were the metaphorical parts--

“Go Janus!” Roman cheered quietly from behind him.

“What?”

“I’m encouraging you!” Roman made jazz hands. “Solve it! You can do it, dear!”

Janus snickered and rolled his eyes.

“Go Janus,” Roman whispered.

Janus tried to focus on the riddle again.

Maybe he should research it. Logan clearly didn’t have an answer, or he probably would have included it with his text, but Logan was still a good problem-solver. Janus should have asked what language it was in. Janus should have confirmed the translation. Janus should have given Virgil a backup plan.

There was no use psyching himself out, though. This was another routine afternoon. He’d come out victorious a dozen times before, and there was no reason he wouldn’t keep up the streak.

Two legs in the air, eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer he looked.

Janus looked harder.

And he saw legs. And hands, and claws scratching at the cement.

Oh, yay, just what he’d wanted! It must be his birthday.

“Roman,” Janus said slowly. “Do you see that too?”

“What?”

“Look very closely.”

A long pause. Then a loud “Fuck!”

“You see it?”

“Hard to miss now,” Roman said, wide-eyed. “What is that?”

Slowly, and steadily, the runes were crumbling. The burns were melting deeper into the wall. And from the holes, shadows climbed out--or maybe it was just the holes themselves, deepening and tearing, turning the world inside out.

“Fun,” Janus said, wishing he’d taken his chance to get the hell out of here while he still could. “This is very, very fun.”

“We should probably solve that riddle,” Roman said.

“Oh, really?” Janus clutched his flashlight tighter. The beam glanced off the shadows like light on oil. “I would have never guessed.”

Two legs in air, eight legs on the ground, more legs and hands and eyes glistening with oil--

The next few seconds were a blur. Something lunged, Janus’ flashlight winked out, and Roman’s clattered to the ground. A cold rope-hand-something curled around his ankle, and Roman’s hand grabbed his.

“Where’s my--” Roman’s voice was panicked. “Shit, okay, the flashlight’s by the boiler--”

“Okay,” Janus said quietly, trying to kick away the cold cloud-hand-whatever it was. “I can’t see the runes anymore.”

“They’re basically falling apart as we speak. You remember the riddle, right?”

“Two, eight, far too many.” Janus swallowed and tried to think. The cold around his ankle was growing warm, too, like frostbite so icy it burned. “Two, eight--”

His ankle was wrenched in a direction it wasn’t supposed to.

Janus heard a wet snap.

And oh, he knew that feeling. Too sudden and complete to hurt. Too much hurt to even comprehend, as if he could feel the pain coming, but not enough time to brace himself. Not nearly enough time.

Red-hot pain, jolting up his bones, from his broken fucking ankle.

He might have screamed. His knees buckled, and someone--Roman--caught him halfway to the floor. Everything was dark. Something red flashed in his vision. Janus could barely breathe without pain tearing at his lungs, but he tried, breathe in and out and wait for the world to stop spinning.

“Hey, whoa, okay, okay,” Roman was murmuring. “What happened? What--”

Janus opened his mouth to explain. All that escaped was a small whimper. If Janus was in less pain, he would have been embarrassed.

“Okay, okay, love, it’s okay.” A hand brushed Janus’ hair out of his face. “Keep breathing. Calm down. It’s okay.”

“Ankle,” Janus forced out. His limbs felt like jelly. “Fucking ankle, gonna fucking--”

“Yes, yes, you’ll get your revenge.” Roman’s voice was achingly soft, and it made Janus relax a bit. “I can lower you to the ground so you don’t have to put weight on it--”

“No,” Janus complained, rather enjoying the feeling of Roman’s arms around him. “Pretty sure we wanna be able to run--”

“You can’t run anyway.”

“Capitalism,” Janus mumbled. “Hate it.”

“Me too, love.”

Something scraped at Janus’ shoulder, something that felt uncomfortably like teeth. He stifled a yelp.

“Oh, that was something.” Roman’s harried tone told Janus he’d felt it, too. “Where is my flashlight--I can’t see anything--”

“Riddle,” Janus reminded him.

“Right,” Roman said. “Right, right, you know what? I’m gonna call someone! I’m gonna call someone.”

“Mm.”

A pause and several rustles. The pain was dulling to a manageable low roar. Janus felt something brush his hand and he swatted at it. Maybe they’d break his other ankle next. Maybe they’d work through him limb by limb, like a game of Hangman.

“Fuck off,” Janus told the darkness.

“Phone’s not--” Roman swore. “Phone’s not working. Of course.”

“Riddle.”

“Right.”

“Riddle,” Janus repeated. Two legs, eight legs, lots of legs. Maybe it didn’t have an answer and they were just messing with him. Maybe he’d answer it and die anyway. That would be a shame, dying with his boyfriend, especially because letting everyone in the building perish was definitely a health code violation.

Roman whacked at something. “Away, foul fiends!”

Janus tested his ankle. He couldn’t even bring himself to move it.

Wonderful. He couldn’t solve a three-line riddle, and he was going to die like a fool in the shadows of spider hell--

Wait.

“Two legs,” Janus said. His voice rasped. “Two legs in the air, when it’s falling on a thread--oh, I hate you.”

“What?” Roman asked.

“And eight legs on the ground, and more legs the longer you look.” Janus laughed. “That’s fair enough.”

Something brushed against his back, feeling like scales.

“Spiders,” Janus said. “That’s the answer! Are you happy now? It’s spiders, leave us alone!”

For one horrifying second, one throb of his ankle, nothing happened.

And then the flashlight at Janus’ feet turned on.

Spider hell looked the same as it always did. Empty walls, a boiler choking on steam, and Roman’s flashlight rolling in the dust. Roman grabbed Janus’, leaned over, and grabbed his own.

“What--” Roman looked around. “Did you--solve it?”

“I think--” Janus slipped a bit in Roman’s arms.

“You did it!” Roman laughed in relief. “You did it, you absolute genius--”

Janus looked up at his boyfriend. Even through the haze of pain, he looked exceedingly adorable. Janus leaned forward and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Don’t flatter me.”

“But darling, it’s so easy!” Roman adjusted Janus in his arms. “Does your ankle hurt?”

“Take a guess.”

“We’ll have to find you a doctor,” Roman said, pulling him forward. “Out of the basement first, though, before another villainous creature decides to use as afternoon entertainment.”

“Or the spiders find us,” Janus agreed. He tried to shift his weight onto his good foot, but he could barely move without his head spinning. “Ow.”

“Just stay put! I’ll carry you!”

“No.”

“I’ll assist you,” Roman amended. “Lean on me, and I’ll walk you upstairs, okay?”

Janus shifted in Roman’s arms. “Am I hurting you? I’m heavy.”

“You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” Roman pressed a kiss to Janus’ head and led him to the door. He kicked it, and it opened. “I’ve got you, love. I’m escorting the brave savior of the coffee shop!”

“I’m manager by default,” Janus said, wrapping an arm around Roman’s waist. Just to hold himself up, of course. No other reason. “It’s my job.”

“You do a great job of it!”

“Someone has to.” Janus clung to Roman’s side as he led them up the stairs. The poster told him to Hang. Janus filled in the other two words, and hung in there.

“I think it’s broken,” Janus said as Roman half-carried him up the stairs. “This is humiliating. Also, expensive.”

“We’ll figure it out, people get hurt, it happens.” Roman paused on one landing. “I’m just happy it wasn’t anything worse.”

“Still the worst injury so far,” Janus said ruefully. “Give me employee of the month.”

Roman smiled and pulled him up the final stairs. “I’ll ask Patton.”

When they burst dramatically through the doors into the cafe, Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not dead!”

“Not for lack of trying, no.” Janus eased himself onto a chair and took a deep breath. The cafe was bursting with people and lights, all the customers completely unaware that they’d just escaped their demise. Janus envied them. “The situation is taken care of, you can relax.”

“Thanks,” Virgil said. “Uh--you okay?”

“He’s taking the rest of the day off,” Roman said before Janus could explain. “Broken ankle. I’m going to rest with him at home, then he’ll take a trip to the clinic.”

“I’ll what?” Janus repeated. “I have a shift--”

“You’re the manager,” Roman pointed out. “Give yourself a free day.”

“The cafe’s busy! I’d leave us short-staffed!”

“You can’t walk.”

“Capitalism!”

“Self-care!” Roman folded his arms. “Virgil, can you cover for Janus as he goes home?”

“Uh--” Virgil looked between them. Janus expected him to say no. “‘Course! I bet I can grab Logan for an emergency shift, too.”

“No, you can’t,” Janus said mockingly as Virgil pulled out his phone. “He’s a bastard and won’t--”

Virgil’s phone buzzed. “He’ll be here in five.”

“Wh--” Janus blinked. “How did you--”

“He just doesn’t like you.” Virgil smirked at him. “Go rest, Jan, we’ll cover your ass.”

“You heard him!” Roman held out a hand. “Come on, love, let’s have a break. The coffee shop won’t burn down while you’re gone, and if it does, Patton can handle it.”

Janus wasn’t sure about that one. Maybe he would return to a burned shell of a building. Or several dead bodies.

But Virgil and Logan knew what to do. And an afternoon with his boyfriend didn’t sound too bad.

“Fine,” Janus said. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

Give me a prompt, and I’ll write a short drabble!

#roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #averywrites #asks and answers #anon #yes i had way too much fun with this au why do u ask #yes this is too long why do u ask #yes i need sleep why do u ask #crap forgot warnings #tw injury #tw death mention #tw spiders #coffee shop au #supernatural au

[bangtanblurbs]

young forever

song: young forever by BTS

first experience: strangely enough i have a very visceral memory of when forever young dropped. it was during finals week of my final year in undergrad. the song released on a sunday in the wee hours (or perhaps a monday? - days tend to run together during finals week). i didn’t have many assignments due that year since my course load was light and i was really just coasting into grad school the year afterwards (at the same institution i attend for undergrad). i remember logging onto youtube and catching the video as it premiered. i was stunned. HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2 were heavenly to me, so of course young forever was greatly anticipated for me - the aesthetics, continuation of the story, and also simply getting new bangtan music. the cotton candy color pallet loaded onto my phone screen, and RM’s beautiful voice can through my earphones... i was immediately in love. 

every member looked completely stunning. the message i got from the video was... incredibly powerful. the maze. the lyrics. all of it resonated with me, a young woman -- 22 years old -- soon to turn another corner in life. i sat in my dorm room preparing for a busy week, as i was the RA in my dormitory and needed to help my students move out that week... as i prepared for my graduation and transition into my next step in life... i was also shipping out to macau, china for the summer in a few weeks so i geared up for that. this video dropping was almost a breath of fresh air from everything going on. i was able to really sit and enjoy it, but also reflect on my past, present, and the future to come. 

feelings: well, i have quite a lot. as someone who has been chronically obsessed with the story of peter pan since age seven, i’d say that youth is something i value - perhaps a bit too much. what’s interesting though is young forever isn’t necessarily about youth in the rawest sense... it’s also about dreams, reaching the point in your life where you’re happy, with yourself, your circumstances, ultimately your place in life. which i suppose most people equate that with youth, the innocence and naivety of it all. for me, thinking about forever young is kind of about that anxiety we carry as we get younger - have a made good use of my youth? did i squander it, getting caught up in the day to day or bogged down by my demons? the worry that our youth is our prime and when it’s gone, where do we go next? retire? it’s kind of funny thinking about this now as I’m 27 instead of 22. do i feel any older? no, not really - i feel the same. the same energy, the same zeal for life. do i look back on the days when i was younger and think that my youth is gone? no. for me - youth - it’s a state of mind. it’s an ethos, a way of proceeding forwards in my life. i didn’t always think this way - perhaps that was wrapped up in my anxiety about getting older. i used to lament my birthday each passing year - god turning 23 felt the absolute worst for some reason. it’s funny now though - how i almost feel younger, lighter, now than i did. youth should be a feeling of unburdened peace right? ideally it would seem so - but the reality in our world today... youth is pain. youth is struggling. youth is stumbling through the dark and trying to figure out who the hell you are, who the hell you want to be. i still feel like i’m stuck in that place, that place of wonder - of reaching out, exploring, experiencing... i feel as naïve as ever despite the pain that courses through some of my life. 

so back to young forever - how does the song make me feel? it makes me feel at home. at peace. forever we can carry our youth, forever we can approach our lives with childish curiosity, with the energy to follow our dreams, with a dedication to our passion, and an and endless realization that change is the only constant in our lives. despite the ups and downs that might come with living with this mindset - i wouldn’t want to live any other way. what’s the point of continuing to grind hard every day in the cruel systems our society has built if we can’t at least say we did it with voracious appetite to experience fully our surroundings, emotions, and imaginations?

personal connection: it’s rather hard for me to nail down all of my personal connections to young forever. as i mentioned, i have a really strong connection to the story of peter pan. i’ll briefly explain why and how that plays in here - but i must warn you... if you’re uncomfortable with strangers oversharing on the internet, perhaps this isn’t the blog for you to read. i’m quite comfortable bearing my soul to people i don’t know. for some reason vulnerability has never been something i’ve struggled with - perhaps it’s the naivety i love about myself. anyways... here we go.

when i was 17 my best friend passed away from cancer. it was relatively quick. just a summer we spent together gossiping in a hospital room, machines beeping while we tried our very best just to giggle about boys and lament our torturous IB courses. i’d known her nearly my whole life. meeting in second grade - and bonding quickly over a love for the whimsy of peter pan’s story. we’d gush on the playground about flying away to neverland - where we could do whatever we wanted. explore, sing, fly. but she was gone then. gone far too soon. frozen in a youthful state in my mind. her passing is still the hardest thing i’ve ever been through in my life, and i’ve been through some scary shit. immediately when i hard young forever i thought about her. i thought about how she lived. she was fearless. the bravest and strongest person i ever knew, and still to this day, have ever known. knowing her - experiencing her soul - it changed me. once she passed away i had to be strong, my classmates looked to me as their rock, my parents forbid me to cry, everyone pushed me into adulthood way too quickly. i was just a seventeen year old girl. i was having a crisis - i wanted nothing more than to speak to my best friend as i navigated choosing my next steps after high school. but she wasn’t there, and i wasn’t allowed to feel. i was terrified. my youth was gone. nothing seemed fun anymore. youth became pain as i looked around at my peers who were back to normal in a matter of weeks. giggling with one another, moving along with life. i became a robot. quickly i threw myself into school work. i was already a high achieving student but i climbed higher. i worked harder. i had decided that for the life she couldn’t live, i would live it for her. i’d go to the best college i could, i’d do all the things i never dreamed i could. i’d do it for her. but i wasn’t living. i had let my youth go. i was fading away. just a shell. 

it’s funny. or perhaps it’s not. young forever is a comfort song. a comfort song with some incredible darkness in it. the anxiety in namjoon’s verse, yoongi’s speaking to hiding feelings - pushing forward despite what he carries, hoseok’s verse about letting himself go and just giving what he has to keep pushing. their words - that’s how i felt. the song dropped around four years after my friend’s passing. i needed it before then. although perhaps it wouldn’t have “saved me” because music doesn’t save, music gives us the strength and comfort we need to save ourselves (i’m not a fan of taking way my own agency in MY story), it might have offered me a light in an increasingly blurry world. 

a year prior to the song’s release i’d spent a summer in china. my life changed there. i lived with seven incredibly bright middle school girls. that experience, i never thought it would start to heal me the way it did. they were under immense pressure (the education system in china is total bullshit)... and they told me “caroline, youth is pain. it’s not beautiful. it’s a period where we struggle the most.” i’d never heard this. the typical western perspective is that youth is “the most beautiful part of life” - it’s where you fall in love, it’s where you get hurt and you pick yourself up, it’s where you find yourself, you feel invincible. but that’s just it - it’s also where you can get incredibly lost (like the maze in the video). not all of us experience youth without pain. this perspective helped me to heal. i wasn’t so alone - i wasn’t squandering my youth, sure - i was treading water - but that was okay. i could cry. i could feel. and so, at this point i began to write my own story again. rather than living for someone else, i decided to throw the book out the window, to pick myself and run like hell towards what i wanted. to accept the freefall of life. that’s youth. that’s the most beautiful part of life. the part where you free yourself from whatever chains society has on you. youth is only associated with being a child because that who should be the most free. when truly youth, youth is that period in your life when you learn to live for yourself, your dreams. dream, hope, keep going. don’t fucking stop.

so this brings us to 2016. i was weeks away from a new journey abroad when young forever dropped. i was doing better. life felt lighter. i still had a long way to go, but some things i’d gotten right. i gained confidence, i navigated my interpersonal relationships with more poise. etc etc. going to china the second time, it changed me more. i did things on my own i’d never dreamed of doing. crossing multiple national borders, making friends with people i couldn’t communicate with. i opened my heart to it all. and i fell in love with myself. for the first time. i fell in love with how completely i embraced my freedom and coupled it with my drive, my passions. that is what young forever is about. it’s about the struggle but the continued commitment to the state of mind that once you’re free - once you embraced that childlike state of being - you can achieve so much happiness. 

which brings us to now - how do i connect to the song now? much in the same way that i did before. carrying these emotions connected to this song so deeply into adulthood has been incredibly touching. i’ve matured with bangtan. from 2015 to now. i’ve only grown in how i embrace my youth. sure, i have to conform at times, play the adult, but the motto “dream, hope, keep going.” that’s what i live by. nothing can change that for me now. i’m still fucking lost, but i’m running like hell. i have my setbacks, my demons, my challenges, but i’ve never been so fucking free. that’s young forever for me. thank you for reading my story. 

song breakdown:

musically: something i truly love about young forever is that it’s really atypical in how it flows musically and the entire structure of the song. it’s creativity run wild - it’s a story and build. and i love that. it starts off slow, soft, with a sweet sadness. the highlight isn’t the backing track, it’s the honey rap voices. it’s absolutely perfect. understated and building. with each new voice that comes in the beat speeds up. it’s like running. which is fitting. because the story in the song is that of bangtan. the lyrics say it, the boys are worried - worried about how well they’ve done, when they’ll stop gaining success, concerned that all of this life will end, wondering who they are in this - the performance the journey. they are quite literally running towards their dreams. we see this in the song lyrically. 

once the chorus comes, we need an increased speed in the beat and the song picks up with the chanting of the mantra. “forever, we are young.” us together, bangtan and ARMY. the song fades into the beautiful clapping beat, the refrains of dream, hope, keep going. musically the song is beautifully understated in a way that can only draw out the listeners’ emotions and highlight the charged encouraging lyrics. the story here is clear and only more illuminated by the musical choices. 

vocally: young forever is such a treat. it’s a rap heavy song, but not in a way that takes away from the beautiful second half of the song which is full of beautiful vocal line refrains and ad libs. it’s a chant song. a comfort song. and perhaps that’s why it’s stuck with me for all these years as one of my ultimate favorite BTS songs. 

when the song begins we are greet by namjoon’s beautiful low rap register. he delivers the rap melodically slow. you can appreciate the way his voice carries emotion and the tempo of the beginning story, of the emotional journey the song embarks upon. following namjoon’s beautiful voice is yoongi. who assumes a slower rap style initially. he has a few parts where he treats us to shout rapping as well - which give us kind of a pleading emotion - we can hear his lament for the pressure placed upon him as he stands in the spotlight. finally, rapline is rounded out by hoseok - i’m gonna say it - this is one of hoseok’s best slow verses. he offers his usual spicy tone, giving the trap style endings to each line. the emotion hits it’s peak with the punch tones and hoseok’s strong committment to his lines expressing his desires, his drive. 

the second half of the song is dominated by the beautiful tones of vocal line. taehyung leads us into the chorus with his beautiful deep register, followed by jungkook’s high tones. the juxtaposition of their voices coupled by jin and backed by jimin’s beautiful melodies is absolutely stunning. rapline takes turns coming in with the refrain “dream, hope, keep going.” all of this mixed together is simply stunning. it’s like hope in vocal form. we have the low and the highs, the singing voices and the speaking refrains. most devastatingly is jimin’s forever ever ever - piercing the background of the song. highlighting the longing - the conviction - to youth - the spirit of it, the beauty of it. the chant portion of the song is also what makes this song so devastating to hear live. everyone comes in, blends together and makes the message resonate completely. 

lyrically: here. we. go. a DEEP DIVE. i think firstly, it’s important to start with the fact that we have a song, young forever, that was released as the epilogue to two devastating HYYH albums. HYYH was the epitome of youth themed albums. it encapsulated everything we associate typically with youth. love songs, songs about pain, songs about healing, songs about not being enough, songs about our dreams, songs about being lonely... it’s all there. both the beauty of youth and the beautiful pain of youth dominate HYYH pt. 1 and HYYH pt. 2. then, those messages, those themes, were sealed with epilogue: young forever. why? well, my feeling is this is bangtan’s way of leaving us with the reality that youth isn’t something that’s fleeting. it’s not an age or state in time. it’s something we carry within. it’s how we approach the things we confront in our lives, how we live and move forward through adversity towards our passions and dreams. 

now - with that out of the way it’s time to dissect some lyrics. there’s quite a lot here in the three rap verses so i truly hope to do them justice. 

namjoon’s verse starts like a story, “the curtain falls” the end of a performance, often used as metaphor for the end of a certain point in one’s life. “the curtain falls and i’m out of breath / i get mixed feelings as i breathe out” clearly the chapter that’s closing for him has been an exhausting one, but he’s not sure about moving forward even though now he has the time to finally reflect and see what he wants next. to me, this speaks directly to where bangtan was at this point in their career. they’d been through the bullshit - the trainee days, the ridicule, the exclusion from the typical korean music system... they’d made it. I NEED U had one awards, RUN did as well, 2016 bangtan had begun to see the fruit of their labor pay off - but with that, what’s next. where do they climb next? what’s to come? there’s that feeling of unease for namjoon. “did I make any mistakes today? / how did the audience seem?” are the next lines, bringing in that sense of reflection. even though now he can breathe - he worries, what’s his impact, how do people feel about what he’s given them, did he have shortcomings? these thoughts flood in and set the mood for the next steps forward. these questions only become more as the pressure continues. the next and final three lines of namjoon’s verse group well together and offer us much more hope that the foreboding in the start of the verse: “i’m happy with who i’ve become / that i can make someone scream with joy / still excited from the performance.” the peace in these final lines, it’s kind of like the rest of the song - starting with the hardship, the unease, what must or has been overcome - mellowing out to realization that things will keep going on. namjoon is at peace with where is at the end of this chapter, he is glad he can stand on this stage bringing smiles to faces, and finally - the buzz of just being able to do music, that remains with him through all of the constant pressure. something about these lines, they’re beautiful.

just like that, yoongi’s verse begins. he provides the same metaphor to the listener. he is standing on an empty stage. the performance is over. the chapter is closing. HYYH is becoming the past for BTS. the struggles, will they be over too as they move forward with their progressing careers? “i stand on the empty stage while holding onto an aftertaste that will not linger for long” he begins - he knows that the high of this moment, the place they’ve reached in this time... it can’t be forever, the emotions of it all are beginning to fade into something else. he then moves on to offer some more insight into how he feels about that unknown of moving on: “while standing on this empty stage, i become afraid of this unpleasant emptiness.” this line seems telling to me - yoongi is someone that gets a lot from recognition, achievement, sharing his works with others. leaving the stage, moving away from this performance moment... it’s hard on him... he feels empty, his moment, his purpose - they’re over... at least for now. the anxiety seeps in. “within my suffocating feelings / on top of my life’s line” he starts to try and explain deeper his emotions, suffocation, a feeling of panic, likely anxiety or pressure induced. what’s next? will it demand more? he’s on top of his life’s line - he feels like he’s reaching his peak, not knowing where to go next, plateau? down? yoongi then lodges into almost a picture perfect description of what society can make us do in moments of pressure where we are feeling anxiety or panic - “without a reason, i forcibly act that i am fine / this isn’t the first time, i better get used to it” he’s going to put on a strong face, suppress how he really feels because at some point there could be another audience, he remains on the stage even if the curtains have closed. he forces himself to do so, and it’s a habitual thing for him. it sounds like truly this is habitual for yoongi - really needing to mask his fear, his panic, his anxiety for the sake of those watching. it tears me up, because it seems like he also knows that this will continue in his future. and the he realizes that keeping the mask on, it’s not something he’s able to do or perhaps interested in doing “i try to hide it, but i can’t.” the final lines of his verse leave us with some unease - they’re unclear - but perhaps they’re speaking to the fact that performing won’t be his forever... “when the heat of the show cools down / i leave the empty seats behind,” so at some point -- the excitement, the hype, it will be gone... those who want to see him, they’ll be gone too, and he’ll move on to what is next. or perhaps this could allude to the fact that the pressure of those watching goes away and he will finally feel comfortable? there’s a lot here. a lot left up and open.

and finally we round out rapline with hoseok’s verse - which leads us into the chorus and refrains. the first three lines of hoseok’s part go hand in hand with one another - they’re a natural progress of coping with one’s emotions and situation: “trying to comfort myself / i tell myself the world can’t be perfect / i start to let myself go.” the chapter is closing and hoseok is trying to tell himself, it’ll be okay. almost like listening to the song young forever - seeking comfort. a home. realizing that things aren’t always going to go his way, he can’t have this moment forever, and sometimes things are going to be ups and downs... the final line is perhaps the most startling, letting oneself go. realizing that there’s some pieces of yourself that are okay to let go, whatever is holding you back, keeping you stuck, sometimes we need to shed that to go forward with the youthful exploration that keeps life invigorating and exciting. or perhaps hoseok is thinking about the day in which he will let “j-hope” go and just be hoseok, without a stage in the traditional sense. “the thundering applause, i can’t own it forever” he moves on saying that this life won’t be his forever, at some point he will need to move on - realize that this moment is down, lose himself to it, and see what is next. yet - even with this knowledge hoseok continues “i tell myself, so shameless / raise your voice higher” it seems that there’s a conflict he’s facing - letting this moment go or screaming as loud as he can to hold onto it, and shamelessly so - letting go of all the constructed norms for how he should behave. perhaps, holding onto his YOUTH even as he grows older in age and should grow away from a youthful mentality. he is raising his voice and hopefully pushing forwards, perhaps just away from this stage and onto an even larger one. it seems this is the case “even if the attention isn’t forever, i’ll keep singing” he states. he will hold onto his passion, keep moving forwards with his music, his voice, his connection to whatever it is that wants to be connected to him - because this is his very soul and being. finally - hoseok closes out his verse “as today’s me, i want eternity / forever, i want to be young.” it seems that hoseok is choosing to be who he is at this moment, his youthful self, as long as he goes on. he will leave this version of himself, this beautiful, loving, hopeful version of himself as his mark on the earth for eternity. 

moving into the chorus we have the iconic title line “forever we are young” which to me, it’s about taking youth forward with you in all that you do. taking your passion, your drive, your love, your hope -- pouring it into all that you do and not letting the outside spoil you and take that from you. keeping your passions and running towards them. that’s the core of the message in young forever. 

jungkook then croons “under the flower petals raining down / i run, so lost in this maze” bringing us to think about how seasons change - flower petals can fall because of their abundance but also because they we are moving into winter. either way, the analogy of flowers is hopeful to me. blossoms on trees - the return in time. not the same blossoms, but just as beautiful as the previous ones. perhaps he’s speaking to the fact that the blossoms are falling now as the chapter is ending - which leads into the feeling of lost, of being in a maze... but the reality is, the flowers will come again. the can come again. so long as they keep running - there’s a chance for this beautiful moment to happen once again. that’s youth. perhaps you have your ups and downs, your moments in the sun (your spring days) and your cold days... but keep running, keep your energy, dream, hope, keep going. and you can return. 

jin then offers the other refrain “even when i fall and hurt myself / i endlessly run toward my dream.” THIS is youth. this is it. that almost stupid attitude of not recognizing when you’re down and out... not recognizing when perhaps you should stop. turning up the energy at your weakest point even when authority is telling you to let it go. this is the essence of youthful hope and energy. even if they’ve failed, even at their lowest point, they’re cementing that they won’t stop until they achieve their dreams. once again. dream. hope. keep going. just keep fucking going. 

finally the other refrain that is repeated throughout the chorus: dream. hope. forward. forward. is the direct translation. but, many would say it’s dream. hope. keep going. this is youth. our dreams, childish and pure. our hope, what we pour into ourselves, what we surround ourselves with - the light that keeps us going. and then constantly moving forward continuing even when our odds look bad. this shit resonates. bangtan did it. they dreamed, 7 boys at a small company. they hoped, holding onto one another, working hard, baby steps forward. they kept going. no matter the ridicule, the setbacks, they pushed forward. these words - they mean the world to me as i’ve pushed through shit in my life. i’m only where i am today because i, by some miracle, internalized this youthful mantra. allowing myself to dream, those moments of hope, pushing forward no matter what. that’s youth. that’s young forever. 

performance: well this is shaping up to be quite a long post. i want to discuss both the MV and how live performances typically proceed. i’ve also attached to this post my personal video of young forever at the HYYH: the epilogue tour in macau. sorry for my screaming in advance. 

MV: the MV is really interesting for the HYYH universe, although the same could be said for save me, which is technically in the universe... BUT the fact that the MV steps away from the storylines and almost takes us into the minds of the characters bangtan is playing is an interesting choice. we start off the video with the boys in a chain-linked fence maze, wandering around, and flashbacks for each of there characters. the overall aesthetic of the video fits with the lyrics and these feelings of uncertainty... the feeling of being lost... wandering from phase to phase in life. early on we see a scene of yoongi burning photos from the HYYH era - truly this song is about death to the past a new beginnings, overcoming the past but moving forward with the pieces of you that are important. the highlighting of the text “꿈 희망 전진 전진” or dream, hope, keep going - making it the mantra of the song. keep moving, keep running. almost it seems like the characters are running away from their demons as well. the members running off into the sunset together? it’s all about endings. new beginnings. but taking them on with determination and an attitude of childlike awe, glee, dreams, and determination. 

performance: we’ve all seen the iconic wembley performance. we’ve probably all cried over it more than once. maybe it’s your comfort video? maybe it’s secretly mine (ha!). i can tell you, experiencing this song live... there’s really nothing like it. it’s understated. there’s no dance. nothing like that. 

in the performances - namjoon appears alone in a starlight stage with the lyrics scrawling on a screen behind him. the lights are all dark, deep blue tones everywhere, it feels dreamy. the entire crowd is brought into a dream like state. it’s fitting, its absolutely fitting and incredibly stunning. yoongi then appears to namjoon’s left and hoseok to his right to be spotlighted for their respective verses. the emotion is everywhere. the song is even more incredible with a live band. you cannot imagine it. the chorus arrives with a change in vibe, a beautiful sunset is projected and the vocal line appears from the floor. all of the members stand shoulder to shoulder and belt the chorus and refrain. and you would not believe how devastatingly beautiful it is to hear ARMY shouting along. forever we are young. kkum, huimang, jeonjin, jeonjin. shouting together. again and again. clapping with one another. waving ARMY bombs. it’s completely emotional. i cried. i cried on the strangers next to me, that didn’t speak my language. there is nothing like it. 

i must also note, the concert i was at we were all distributed lightsticks and banners with 꿈 희망 전진 전진 written on them. this song has been important since it released. it’s the core of bangtan’s rise. it is so important to these boys. and to many of us fans as well.

now - a word about what happened at wembley. bangtan had no idea that ARMY would sing young forever TO them. at WEMBLEY. fans who likely do not speak korean. chanting their mantra to them “kkum, huimang, jeonjin, jeonjin” and singing “foreverrrrr we are younnnnng” and saying they will keep going. they will walk their journey towards their dreams. something about that, it’s incredibly toughing. you and i cannot imagine how that must have felt for bangtan. the moment must have been completely surreal. one of the world’s largest stages, playing one of the most meaningful songs of their careers - a song meant to memorialize their climb to fame, their accomplishments, their youth that they likely felt the LOST during this climb to where they are now. jimin himself said that night “this song. wow. this song helped me a lot when things were really hard.” young forever means so very much to bangtan. it always has. and their fans chose that very song. we chose that song (rather we were there or not). it’s our mantra too. whatever we go through, we are on this journey, and we are not alone. we are not alone. we can muster the strength to carry on with that same youthful zeal for life. watching that video... it’s moving. it’s completely incredible. to be a part of this journey... just wow. 

tl;dr: in conclusion... young forever is one of the BTS songs that has the most touching meanings, and it came at a very delicate time in their career. a time when they were finally getting the recognition they deserved and sought for a long time. a time when they were pivoting from “young” to “young adult.” a time when they likely struggled with a loss of their youth. all of this... it’s powerful because it’s not alien for those of us normal people. we all feel this. i’ve felt it as i’ve gone through tough shit and came out the other side changed, only to have to find my way through the maze and back to myself. youth and being young, it’s a state of mind. i think bangtan sincerely know and believe this. that’s what makes the song and the message it carries so incredibly powerful. so meaningful to us all. thanks for reading yet again. 

#bts #bangtan #jin #j-hope #hoseok #namjoon #rm #army #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #yoongi #suga #Lyrics #hyyh #Young forever #analysis

[honourablejester]

Fantasy, Horror and the Intangible

I’ve been thinking a bit lately about why I like some stripes of horror/fantasy and less others. Actually, I’ve mostly been thinking about how I like dark fantasy, but I like dark fantasy mostly in the sense of ‘fantasy crossed with gothic and/or cosmic horror’ not ‘fantasy but everything is horrible and ultimately soul-crushing’, like I want ghosts and eldritch star gods, not grimdark ‘everyone is a terrible person and morality is meaningless’ bullshit.

Sorry. That was strongly phrased. But. I grew up in the 90s. I’m a little tired of grimdark.

And I think when I look at it a bit, it comes back to a basic … not ‘problem’, maybe, but divide, with a lot of fiction. I think it does probably come back, in a large sense, to the ‘realism’ debate. What I mean is, I’m getting a sense with a lot of fiction that it wants sort of … tangible conflicts? Tangible threats, tangible moralities, tangible consequences. Physically grounded things. There’s a feeling I get that fiction right now doesn’t like a lot of the more … ambiguous or delicate concepts or emotions.

Okay. Pulling back a bit. Here are a few subgenres that I really, really like:

gothic horror

cosmic horror

fairytales

paranormal investigation

There are others, obviously, I like a lot of things (sci-fi, most notably), but these are the ones I’ve been circling lately. Because they have a thread of something in common, and something that’s actually increasingly hard to find: intangibility. Uncertainty. Also: wonder. Awe. Curiosity. Apprehension. Terror. Insanity.

They’re genres that play a lot with non-physical threats and promises, essentially. With emotions to do with things that aren’t here yet, or things that may not be real, or things that are felt but not seen. They have consequences that are often not merely fatal or unfatal. Costs in cosmic horror, gothic horror, fairytales, paranormal stories, and even mystery stories are often more on the abstract end: you lose your sanity, your humanity, your freedom, your believability, your reputation.

They’re stories that famously rely on emotions. On atmosphere. On dread, enchantment, curiosity. People don’t usually have powers, they have feelings. They sense things that other people can’t sense. They see things that other people can’t see.

There’s magic in all of them. There’s another world layered over the base one, secrets that most people can’t see. There’s wonder. Whimsy. Secrets. Arcane rules. Mysteries.

And then, because that other world often contains monsters, there’s fear. Apprehension. Terror. Dread. Not just that you might die, but that you might in some way lose yourself.

I think another thing I’m skirting around is that they’re genres focused on exploration rather than combat necessarily. Sure, you might slay the werewolf eventually, or shotgun some cultists in the face, but the combat usually isn’t the point. The tragedy of the werewolf is the person who lost their humanity to it. The terror of cosmic horror is that the cosmic entity that spawned said cult is likely fundamentally unbothered by losing it. These are stories with the tangible powers of combat are fundamentally lessened, because the true wonder is exploration and the true terror is something that all the shotguns in the world can’t stop.

I remember leaving a prompt on a comm once, I can’t remember for what, and what I wanted was a low-level ESP-type paranormal story. With psychics sensing things and investigating. What I got was X-men level ‘Professor X fights baddies’. Which is … I feel like a lot of fiction nowadays defaults onto ‘have powers, fight baddies’. Which! There is nothing wrong with! Sometimes I very much want that! But not in that instance. I wanted a lower-key story where people felt things.

(I did thank them anyway, I did enjoy the story, it just … didn’t quite hit what I wanted)

IDK, I just feel like, maybe as a consequence or just co-morbid with the massive rise of things like the superhero genre and the oddly non-conflicting, despite all logic, ‘realism in fantasy’ type debates, a lot of fiction right now is going out of its way to feel a) grounded in physical reality and b) action-oriented. Threats are things you can stab. Horror is man’s general inhumanity to man. Powers are things you can fight with. Your righteousness is shown by who you punch in the face.

I miss the less tangible emotions of fairytales and gothic horror. Those two particularly. The wonder and mystery of magic, the terror and apprehension of the unseen. Where you’re guided by exploration, by feeling, by sensing things. Where the threat is not necessarily to life-and-limb, but to the soul, the humanity, the sanity. Where righteousness is resisting your own corruption, not punishing someone else’s.

(Sidenote here on Dracula: I feel there’s a thing here with Mina Harker vs Lucy Westenra a bit, in that Lucy was unmarried when she died, and fell to corruption, while Mina, the relatively ‘sinful’ woman who had a husband and presumably had relations with him, began to be transformed but spent the whole latter half of the book staunchly resisting it and standing beside Van Helsing – granted, though, there are practical considerations in that no one knew what the fuck was going on with Lucy so they just didn’t know enough to save her in time, while with Mina everyone, including her, knew what was up and what she has to fight – anyway, sidenote ended)

I just want more stories with the more delicate and intangible sorts of feelings, I guess. Wonder. Particularly wonder. Seeing things that are not necessarily useable but still magical. And apprehension. Terror. On the darker end of things. Not just fear for your life or cynicism or despair, but the creeping fear and atmosphere you get when you don’t know what’s happening. Where there are unseen things happening, and you’re worried not for your life but for your sanity and possibly for your humanity. Where you fear not being killed but being changed. (Or, on the flipside, where you hope to be changed, transformed, become the fairy princess you secretly want to be)

I grew up on the likes of The Last Unicorn. The Neverending Story. Dracula. Ghost stories. Fairy stories. Stories where you can just feel something else beyond the bounds of what you know. Where the price of love is regret, where the price of power is humanity, where the cost of evil is haunting and insanity. I grew up into mystery, into cosmic horror, into fantasy. I like the intangible. I like the feeling of things out there that I can feel but not know. I like thrill of fear from a good haunted atmosphere, from the knowledge of threats that I can’t actually touch. I like the vast feeling of cosmic horror, of things out there that are just too big to comprehend, let alone fight. Not because I like despair (I very much do not), but because I like the feeling of exploration, that there is more in the world than we can understand (yet) and that we might still be willing to take the risk to try. (Usually in cosmic horror this results in gibbering, but hey, at least we’re still trying)

I like stories where the solutions are also equally intangible. You learn enough about the ghost to lay them to rest. You investigate the cult and find out how the seal the cosmic gate. You win through exploration, through engagement with the emotions, not always through physical force, even if that does also have its place with, say, staking the vampire through the heart. Stories where victory is resisting corruption, absolving old sins, discovering new worlds, rebuilding new worlds through just your wishes and dreams and willingness to hope (hi, Neverending Story, how are you!)

Also, I love the aesthetic. The atmosphere. The feeling. Wonder and intrigue and apprehension and curiosity. Imagery. The spooky castle on the cliff, the faun leading you down into a world of wonders. The joy of magic, the terror of the unknown.

I don’t know what my point even is here, I’ll be honest. I just want more feelings and less punching, I guess. More engagement, more exploration, more mystery. Less ‘sort out the rules and punch the villain in the face’. Less grimdark, more wonder and terror. More magic. More unknown.

More acknowledgement that … You don’t need to be able to fight everything you come across. Sometimes you just need to experience it.

And survive it, yes, hopefully. But you get what I mean.

Embrace the intangible some more. Ambiguity and intangibility are not crimes. You don’t always need to give the answers, you don’t have to ground everything in a punchable reality, you just need to give people a feeling. An experience. An emotion.

And not even necessarily a good one, though I will say again that grimdark is a bit tired, I feel, probably, go a bit easy on the crushing despair maybe? But that aside.

Magic good. Terror good. Go explore.

(I am aware that there are current examples of all of these, by the by, thank you Guillermo del Toro for always leaning into the spooky and delicate, and I’m happy to take recs. I’m mostly just talking about a general feeling I’m getting about the state of the genre fiction at the minute)

#meta #genre fiction #horror #fantasy #fairytales #i like the less than tangible #wonder and terror #less physical concerns #mostly i'm rambling

[yespolkadotkitty]

Yes, Ma’am - pt 2

Part 1 here

Walker tugged your hand and led you to his room by silent agreement. You didn’t mind; you’d been throwing clothes around, getting ready to leave in the morning. His room would likely be neater and you could leave if things got awkward.

Your heart beat a hard tattoo in your chest as he beeped the key card and let you both into the room. It was larger than yours, with a huge window that afforded a view of the sea. You’d really sprung out top dollar on this holiday - why not, you might as well be a divorcee in style.

Enchanted, you crossed to the window, looking out at the setting sun, casting its dusky pink fingers into the darkening sky.

“It’s gorgeous here.”

“So’s the view I’ve got.”

You turned, smiling. It was a cheesy line, but he delivered it well, with enough seriousness that you would believe him for tonight. And what was the harm? Tonight was all you’d have together, after all.

“Come closer, then,” you teased, crooking your finger, feeling light and giddy and young.

Walker did as you bid, dropping a soft kiss on your mouth that quickly turned hot and hungry. You licked into his mouth, tasting the honey of his whiskey on his tongue. He made you feel desirable once more. Impatient, you started to pluck at the buttons on his dress shirt. He made a little growly sound of approval in his throat and it went right to the achy place between your thighs. You finished the buttons and shoved the shirt down his arms and holy shit he was built.

You spread your greedy palms over his chest, the dark hair tickling your skin pleasantly. “Oh my God.” You belatedly realised you’d said it out loud and peeked up at him, embarrassed.

A slight smile tugged at his mouth, like he was unused to praise, and then he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the enormous bed. He lay you down like an offering to a deity, and then that broad, rangy body covered yours and you moaned at the feel of him everywhere you wanted him.

The distant sound of the waves and of the birdsong at dusk reached out dimly as Walker made his way down your body, first nipping at your neck and collarbone, then propping himself up on his elbows as he unbuttoned your sundress, slowly, very slowly, brushing kisses over each new inch of skin he revealed. You wore a lacy bra, one from the few new sets you’d treated yourself too after your damp squib of a divorce, and he trailed his tongue over your nipple through the thin fabric. The rasp of his tongue was like a bolt of electricity and your hips bucked helplessly into his.

Walker smiled against the slope of your breast and opened the front clasp of your bra before tasting you again, skin to skin. You tangled your fingers into his thick pile of hair, like tattered silk between your digits.

He lavished attention on each breast in turn, until you were squirming restlessly, hands fisting in his hair.

He took the hint, finishing the buttons and laying your dress open, the deep coral fabric a contrast to the classic white of the bedsheets. His moustache tickled at your belly as he nuzzled at your navel and then kissed along the waistband of your panties.

Your husband had never been into this, and at the time you hadn’t been bothered. But now for the first time in years, were you going to experience-

Walker lapped at you through the thin lace and your hips almost pistoned off the bed. You automatically widened your legs to give him better access.

He made a sound low in his throat and moved away to slip off your shoes and slide the underwear down your legs. Then he braced one of your calves on his shoulder and went to work.

You sucked in a deep breath as his tongue traced your folds, teasing, until you gasped out his name in desperation, and he started drawing slow circles on your clit, keeping up the pressure just right. He gave you time to adjust to the sensations, knowing when to curl his tongue in and when to stop, until you were keening out loud, pressing into his face. The bolt of pleasure shot through you and you sobbed as he stroked you through it.

When you fell back to Earth he was leaning up on one elbow, that half-smile playing on his face.

“Smug bastard,” you laughed.

His smile widened. “Guilty as charged.”

“God, that was amazing.” You rolled on to your side to face him. “Now, more. My turn to explore.”

He gladly lay back down, sighing in contentment as you went to town on his belt buckle, showing his trousers down, then seeing to his shoes, socks and underwear. Your clothes tangled together on the smooth wooden floor, a pile of cotton and lace. You crawled up the bed between his legs, breathing him in; he smelled faintly of the honeyed whiskey, of the hot summer air and waning sunshine. He smelled like freedom and whimsy, and you wanted him more than anyone you’d ever wanted in your life.

His erection rested heavy against the flat slope of his belly and you explored him leisurely with your hands as he touched you anywhere he could reach, his large hands capable and sure in their strokes.

You used your mouth then, relishing the low groan that escaped his lips; turning him inside out made something inside you flutter with delight. You felt him twitch heavily in your mouth and he squeezed your shoulders. “Not like this. There’s…. A condom in my pocket.”

You contented yourself with one last lick that left his legs trembling, then you rustled in his pocket, coming up with treasure. You ripped the packet open yourself, then retraced your path up his body.

Walker’s hands came to rest on your hips as you straddled him, tossing aside the foil from the condom and slowly, slowly rolling the rubber down his length. You braced your hands on his shoulders and lent down for a kiss, nipping at his full bottom lip as you settled yourself right there, then slid down. He filled you and you gasped at the sensation and pleasure of it.

His eyes drifted closed as you set up a rhythm and he helped you, gripping your hips, his hands steady and sure. The sound of your bodies moving together was wonderfully wet, the sound of the ocean and some distant party music the only backdrop, and it was perfect.

Walker changed angles, lifting a leg, and then he hit a spot inside you that no one had ever reached, and bliss crested inside you until the pleasure spilled over.

“Oh, fuck,” he muttered as your muscles convulsed around him, and he moaned, long and low, as he came, too.

Some time later, he padded to the big bathroom to dispose of the condom, and when he came back, you were lying facing the window, looking out at the waves.

Walker settled in beside you, nuzzling at your shoulder, and you giggled at the tickle of his moustache.

“Has anyone ever told you that’s a porn ‘tache?” you asked, lazily, content.

“Many times.”

“And that doesn’t make you want to shave it?”

He tickled you again. “Do you think I should?”

“No. It suits you.”

“Yeah. I think so, too.”

He lay on his back, one arm out, and you went willingly, curling into him. Tomorrow, you would be on a plane home, back to the cracked egg shell remains of your life, but tonight, Walker was yours, and you intended to milk every minute of it. “Round two?” you whispered into the curve where his neck and shoulder met.

Walker huffed out a laugh. “Trying to kill me, woman?” but you heard the smile in his voice and he rolled so he lay on top of you. “What a way to die.”

Thanking my beta, @lokimostly , and special mentions to @littlefreya and @dancingwendigo for getting me in the August mood.

Tagging: @constip8merm8 @watermeloncavill @promptandpros @obsessedwithcavill @ravenpuff02 @maggotzombie @cavillhavoc @thethirstyarchive @chamomilebottom  @affabletimelady  @iloveyouyen @ohjules @speakerforthedead0-blog @from-hel-i-with-love @myoxisbroken @maeleeme​ @dr-kayleigh-dh​ @mrsaugustwalker​ @omgkatinka​

#august walker #august walker fic #henry cavil fic #pwp

[dailytomlinson]

If you come to the first track of Louis Tomlinson’s debut album as a solo artist with no prior knowledge of the singer, his affection for Oasis sounds much more potent than his history as a member of One Direction. Noel Gallagher once asked, “Does anybody give fuck about what any of these current pop stars are up to? Who gives a shit what fucking One Direction do?” It’s unclear quite how this Gallagher-inspired (and approved, apparently, since Noel agreed to share a co-writing on the ‘Acquiesce’-aping title track) record responds to that query, but Tomlinson doesn’t seem to hold a grudge.

He was always the quiet one in the band, looking the part and playing it adequately, but standing a couple of steps back while Harry or Liam belted out the high notes and led the singalongs. Tomlinson didn’t want One Direction to split up, and is the last of the five boys to release his first solo record. But what could be tinged with resentment and grit – both from being effectively abandoned, and taking notes from the grumpier of the two Gallaghers – is actually just quite pleasant.

There are two ping-ponging moods on ‘Walls’, pulling Tomlinson in, well, two directions now. There’s his past as the pop singer, which results in a handful of sweet, simple nostalgic tracks, and his past even further back as a kid from Doncaster who was really into Britpop.

‘Kill My Mind’ kicks things off with a thick northern accent and a surprisingly provocative swagger, welcoming a return to Tomlinson’s first loves – but it’s quickly followed by ‘Don’t Let It Break Your Heart’ which, as a straightforward, inoffensive pop song, cements the split personality of the album. The whiplash is potent, the album’s best track leading into one of the worst.

It’s surprising, actually, that there’s not more abrasive material here, considering the painful past few years Tomlinson has grappled with. His mother passed away suddenly of leukaemia at the age of 43 in 2016, and his then 18-year-old sister suffered a drug overdose last year. He now looks out for his three other younger sisters. You’d forgive him for sounding a bit angrier, the material here more soul-bearing.

True, there is a prominent sense of pain on ‘Two of Us’, which, if a bit syrupy instrumentally, is a piercing personal ode to his mother. “You’ll never know how much I miss you / The day that they took you, I wish it was me instead,” he sings. Louis Tomlinson has sung a lot of ballads in his life, but none have sounded this raw.

Musically ‘Walls’ is a largely conservative album; it’s primarily guitar-led and rarely experiments. His former bandmates all played around musically – Zayn embraced R&B, Harry turned to ’80s power rock, Niall found folk and Liam just threw everything he’d ever heard at the wall – but Louis sticks to what he knows. It’s notable that he’s the only member of one Direction still signed to Syco.

The album is padded out with a string of forgettable – though not unenjoyable – acoustic whimsies. ‘We Made It’ is a wistful look back at the past, lyrically evoking Katy Perry’s ‘Teenage Dream’ and musically containing hints of Busted circa 2002. ‘Too Young’ and ‘Always You’ operate in a similar vein – they’re full of open-hearted compliments to a girl from a simpler a time, channelling the romance of 1D’s ‘Little Things’.

Tomlinson played a considerable part in One Direction’s songwriting process, with 39 credits on the band’s 96 tracks. His ear for a digestible hook shines, but he’s not much of a wordsmith – often he’ll just sing the song’s title over and over again (see the title track and ‘Defenceless’). Try Googling some of his lyrics: it can take several pages before his name crops up.

But the album’s Oasis-imitating title track indicates his headstrong ambition, the neat major-minor key changes just about sophisticated enough to pull at your heartstrings. He’s perhaps taking the time to find himself properly before launching into a boisterous future. He may be looking back on what he loved – both the history he helped make and the one that shaped him – before rebuilding something new. There are the foundations here for a rewarding future.

#louis tomlinson #walls review #nme #270120 #stunt mention #death tw #one direction

[elceeu2morrow]

Ella Kemp  January 27, 2020 | 17 mins ago

If you come to the first track of Louis Tomlinson’s debut album as a solo artist with no prior knowledge of the singer, his affection for Oasis sounds much more potent than his history as a member of One Direction. Noel Gallagher once asked, “Does anybody give fuck about what any of these current pop stars are up to? Who gives a shit what fucking One Direction do?” It’s unclear quite how this Gallagher-inspired (and approved, apparently, since Noel agreed to share a co-writing on the  ‘Acquiesce’-aping title track) record responds to that query, but Tomlinson doesn’t seem to hold a grudge.

He was always the quiet one in the band, looking the part and playing it adequately, but standing a couple of steps back while Harry or Liam belted out the high notes and led the singalongs. Tomlinson didn’t want One Direction to split up, and is the last of the five boys to release his first solo record. But what could be tinged with resentment and grit – both from being effectively abandoned, and taking notes from the grumpier of the two Gallaghers – is actually just quite pleasant.

There are two ping-ponging moods on ‘Walls’, pulling Tomlinson in, well, two directions now. There’s his past as the pop singer, which results in a handful of sweet, simple nostalgic tracks, and his past even further back as a kid from Doncaster who was really into Britpop.

‘Kill My Mind’ kicks things off with a thick northern accent and a surprisingly provocative swagger, welcoming a return to Tomlinson’s first loves – but it’s quickly followed by ‘Don’t Let It Break Your Heart’ which, as a straightforward, inoffensive pop song, cements the split personality of the album. The whiplash is potent, the album’s best track leading into one of the worst.

It’s surprising, actually, that there’s not more abrasive material here, considering the painful past few years Tomlinson has grappled with. His mother passed away suddenly of leukaemia at the age of 43 in 2016, and his then 18-year-old sister suffered a drug overdose six months later. He now looks out for his three other younger sisters, as well as a four-year-old son. You’d forgive him for sounding a bit angrier, the material here more soul-bearing.

True, there is a prominent sense of pain on ‘Two of Us’, which, if a bit syrupy instrumentally, is a piercing personal ode to his mother. “You’ll never know how much I miss you / The day that they took you, I wish it was me instead,” he sings. Louis Tomlinson has sung a lot of ballads in his life, but none have sounded this raw.

Musically ‘Walls’ is a largely conservative album; it’s primarily guitar-led and rarely experiments. His former bandmates all played around musically – Zayn embraced R&B, Harry turned to ’80s power rock, Niall found folk and Liam just threw everything he’d ever heard at the wall – but Louis sticks to what he knows. It’s notable that he’s the only member of one Direction still signed to Syco.

The album is padded out with a string of forgettable – though not unenjoyable – acoustic whimsies. ‘We Made It’ is a wistful look back at the past, lyrically evoking Katy Perry’s ‘Teenage Dream’ and musically containing hints of Busted circa 2002. ‘Too Young’ and ‘Always You’ operate in a similar vein – they’re full of open-hearted compliments to a girl from a simpler a time, channelling the romance of 1D’s ‘Little Things’.

Tomlinson played a considerable part in One Direction’s songwriting process, with 39 credits on the band’s 96 tracks. His ear for a digestible hook shines, but he’s not much of a wordsmith – often he’ll just sing the song’s title over and over again (see the title track and ‘Defenceless’). Try Googling some of his lyrics: it can take several pages before his name crops up.

But the album’s Oasis-imitating title track indicates his headstrong ambition, the neat major-minor key changes just about sophisticated enough to pull at your heartstrings. He’s perhaps taking the time to find himself properly before launching into a boisterous future. He may be looking back on what he loved – both the history he helped make and the one that shaped him – before rebuilding something new. There are the foundations here for a rewarding future.

#nme #walls review #1.27.20 #new music express #walls promo #baby stunt

[elareine]

Far away (JayTim)

The first thing Jason asked when the console in front of Tim finally managed to connect them via video-link was: “Everything alright?”

Tim knew the question wasn’t nearly as casual as it sounded and replied in kind: “Yeah. Everyone is alive if bruised. There were explosions, you’d have liked it. You?”

“Fewer explosions than I’d have preferred, but also fewer bruises than I expected, so it’s all good.” Relaxing, Jason leaned back into his chair.

Tim blinked as he took in Jason’s appearance. He was honest-to-god wearing an ugly Christmas sweater depicting little bats. “I see you’re getting into the Christmas spirit at last.”

“Hmm, kind of. How long until you get back?”

“There’s one more stop, but we’ll stay in communication range. ETA on Earth is twenty-two hours right now, subject to change. You know, aliens, pirates, alien pirates, the usual.”

Weirdly, Jason looked amused more than anything else. “You’ll make it for New Year’s Eve, then?”

“Yeah, of course.” Tim suddenly had a horrible thought. “Wait, what day is it on Earth?”

Judging by Jason’s grin, that was the right question to ask. “December 25th.” He made a show of glancing at his clock. “Barely. It’s 11:49 p.m.”

Ah, the joys of space travel. Tim sighed. “It’s been five days here.” Leave it to him. Only Tim would manage to be in a relationship for two weeks and then accidentally fuck off for three more.

“I figured. So. Merry Christmas, babe. I’ll leave your present for when you’re back if you don’t mind. Kinda hard to unpack from space.” Jason winked.

Tim thought he could just feel his heart swell with love for this ridiculous human being. “Yeah. Same, though I left mine in Gotham. Obviously.”

“What, I’m not getting the space equivalent of a gas station teddy bear?” Jason laughed. “I’m honored.”

“Well…. I might have picked something up when we occasioned to stop at Alpha Gamma 34…”

Jason actually looked genuinely excited at the prospect. Tim couldn’t wait to show him the linguistics guide the seller had assured him would be easily understandable for anyone with a passable grasp of Tamaranian, which he knew Jason to be fluent him. His boyfriend would love it.

For now, though, he settled back into his chair. “How was your day?”

“I’ve mostly been cooking, honestly. Made a nice big meal for Kori, Artemis, Biz and me. There are always people dropping by, you know.” Those who didn’t celebrate or didn’t have someone to celebrate with, Tim guessed. “Roy and Lian stopped by, too, once he’d had enough of his family. Dick, too.”

“You didn’t go to the manor?”

“It’s still pretty uncomfortable,” Jason shrugged. “And since you’re away, I didn’t think it would be worth it. Honestly, I celebrated more Christmases alone than I ever did at the manor, so.”

Most Christmases in his own life had been spent alone or feeling like he was, Tim thought. That applied to both of them, though, and didn’t need saying.

“Next year, okay? We’ll be that couple that goes to every single celebration together. Drop by Kon, Bart, and Cassie; eat Alfred’s food and then go spend the actual day with your team.”

To his surprise, Jason blushed.

He tried to hide it, of course, turning his head to the side and chuckling, mumbling something like, “Sure, let’s do that,” but Tim saw everything.

“Jason?” he asked as gently as he could. “Why is that embarrassing? Too fast?” Tim had been told before that his all-or-nothing approach could come on too strong. Jason didn’t seem to have minded so far, but maybe this was a step too far.

“No, just.” Jason actually hid his face in his hands. “I wasn’t aware you’re thinking that long-term with me.”

Tim mentally aww-ed at the sight of his big buff boyfriend hiding his blushing face. His fingers twitched with the need to cover those hands with his own, pull them away so he could kiss that hot cheek and whisper what he was about to say next right into Jason’s ear.

(There was also a voice in the back of his head that was more determined than ever to find out about Jason’s previous dating experiences, because who thinks saying the phrase ‘next year we’ll…’ is long-term? Tim was going to do some first-class research/stalking, and then he might have to hurt some people.)

“Of course. That’s what I mean when I say ‘I love you.’”

Jason looked like he had stopped breathing.

“I love you, Jason,” he repeated. “Neither of us is great at this, honestly, but when this is over, I want to come home to you, and have you do the same the next time you leave. I have no illusions about either of us; I want the sleepless nights and injuries and arguments and blood and nightmares. I want you to cook, and I’ll do the dishes. I want to fall asleep next to you every night, eventually. And yeah, I want to spend one of the few holidays that hold meaning to both of us with you. Is that really so surprising?”

Jason’s hands had fallen down as Tim spoke, and the look on his face… he looked completely open, vulnerable and disbelieving and joyful at the same time.

It was heady, honestly, that someone would want to hear this from him, want to be reassured that Tim would stay, would love them. That someone would want Tim.

“I know telling you I’ll be gone for a week at most and then missing Christmas isn’t helpful in me showing you that I’m in this for the long run. I’ll do better, I promise. But believe me—“

“That’s just our life,” Jason interrupted him, his voice barely loud enough to be picked up over the mic, but sure. “All I had to do was check with the Bat about your destination and do the math myself. Don’t worry about it, okay?” He paused. “Unless it happens again. Then I’ll kick your ass.”

Oh, Jason. Always trying to lighten his mood.

“I love you,” Tim said, determined. He hadn’t realized that Jason needed to hear it, but now that he did, he was determined to say it again and again.

Already he knew that he would say these words a thousand times more. He couldn’t wait.  

“I love you, too. And I like the thought of coming home to each other.” Jason’s smile was soft like a secret.

Tim nodded. “I’ll see you soon.”

In a fit of whimsy, he stretched out his hand to touch the screen, right next to the camera. Jason, the sap, reached right back.

“Yeah. Soon.”

#jaytim #elareine writes #advent calendar 2019 #to be continued on new year's eve

[louistomlinsoncouk]

If you come to the first track of Louis Tomlinson’s debut album as a solo artist with no prior knowledge of the singer, his affection for Oasis sounds much more potent than his history as a member of One Direction. Noel Gallagher once asked, “Does anybody give fuck about what any of these current pop stars are up to? Who gives a shit what fucking One Direction do?” It’s unclear quite how this Gallagher-inspired (and approved, apparently, since Noel agreed to share a co-writing on the  ‘Acquiesce’-aping title track) record responds to that query, but Tomlinson doesn’t seem to hold a grudge.

He was always the quiet one in the band, looking the part and playing it adequately, but standing a couple of steps back while Harry or Liam belted out the high notes and led the singalongs. Tomlinson didn’t want One Direction to split up, and is the last of the five boys to release his first solo record. But what could be tinged with resentment and grit – both from being effectively abandoned, and taking notes from the grumpier of the two Gallaghers – is actually just quite pleasant.

There are two ping-ponging moods on ‘Walls’, pulling Tomlinson in, well, two directions now. There’s his past as the pop singer, which results in a handful of sweet, simple nostalgic tracks, and his past even further back as a kid from Doncaster who was really into Britpop.

‘Kill My Mind’ kicks things off with a thick northern accent and a surprisingly provocative swagger, welcoming a return to Tomlinson’s first loves – but it’s quickly followed by ‘Don’t Let It Break Your Heart’ which, as a straightforward, inoffensive pop song, cements the split personality of the album. The whiplash is potent, the album’s best track leading into one of the worst.

It’s surprising, actually, that there’s not more abrasive material here, considering the painful past few years Tomlinson has grappled with. His mother passed away suddenly of leukaemia at the age of 43 in 2016, and his then 18-year-old sister suffered a drug overdose last year. He now looks out for his three other younger sisters, as well as a four-year-old son. You’d forgive him for sounding a bit angrier, the material here more soul-bearing.

True, there is a prominent sense of pain on ‘Two of Us’, which, if a bit syrupy instrumentally, is a piercing personal ode to his mother. “You’ll never know how much I miss you / The day that they took you, I wish it was me instead,” he sings. Louis Tomlinson has sung a lot of ballads in his life, but none have sounded this raw.

Musically ‘Walls’ is a largely conservative album; it’s primarily guitar-led and rarely experiments. His former bandmates all played around musically – Zayn embraced R&B, Harry turned to ’80s power rock, Niall found folk and Liam just threw everything he’d ever heard at the wall – but Louis sticks to what he knows. It’s notable that he’s the only member of one Direction still signed to Syco.

The album is padded out with a string of forgettable – though not unenjoyable – acoustic whimsies. ‘We Made It’ is a wistful look back at the past, lyrically evoking Katy Perry’s ‘Teenage Dream’ and musically containing hints of Busted circa 2002. ‘Too Young’ and ‘Always You’ operate in a similar vein – they’re full of open-hearted compliments to a girl from a simpler a time, channelling the romance of 1D’s ‘Little Things’.

Tomlinson played a considerable part in One Direction’s songwriting process, with 39 credits on the band’s 96 tracks. His ear for a digestible hook shines, but he’s not much of a wordsmith – often he’ll just sing the song’s title over and over again (see the title track and ‘Defenceless’). Try Googling some of his lyrics: it can take several pages before his name crops up.

But the album’s Oasis-imitating title track indicates his headstrong ambition, the neat major-minor key changes just about sophisticated enough to pull at your heartstrings. He’s perhaps taking the time to find himself properly before launching into a boisterous future. He may be looking back on what he loved – both the history he helped make and the one that shaped him – before rebuilding something new. There are the foundations here for a rewarding future.

#louis tomlinson #27jan20

[leiascully]

Fic:  Baseball Metaphors (13/15?)

Part One  |  Part Two  |  Part Three |  Part Four |  Part Five |  Part Six |  Part Seven |  Part Eight |  Part Nine  |   Part Ten  |  Part Eleven  |  Part Twelve

Not exactly nsfw, but mostly just talking while nude.

He wakes up to an empty bed and the sound of running water.  

"Scully?" he says, lifting his head.  

Her voice drifts in.  "In here."

He gets up, dragging his boxers back on, and wanders into the bathroom.  The tub is half-full of frothy water.  Scully is bent over adjusting the taps, wrapped in a fluffy robe.  She tests the water with her hand and smiles at him.  "Take a bath with me," she says.

"Sure," he says.  "Uh, I would like to, uh, pee first."  It's embarrassing to admit for some reason, despite the fact that she knows he evacuates waste, and he's definitely had to do weirder things in her presence.  She gets up and motions to the bathroom.

"All yours," she says.

He pees.  It's not the first time he's used her bathroom, but it's the first time after they've had sex, genuine intercourse that not even an adventurous Catholic school student could rationalize away.  He's careful with his aim and he even lowers and wipes the seat after, just in case, and then washes his hands.  When he opens the door, she's coming back from the kitchen with two glasses of ice water.  She hands one to him.

"Thanks," he says.  He is thirsty.  He takes a long swig while she fiddles with the taps and finally turns the water off.  She sips at her water and sets the glass on the sink before dropping her robe in one smooth movement.  She stands in front of him, unselfconscious, and there's nothing he can do but shed his boxers.  She's so reserved that sometimes he forgets that she's relatively practical about her body.  He assumes that has something to do with the years she's spent studying anatomy.  He takes another swallow of water and sets his glass on the other side of the sink.

"Shall we?" he says.  

She smiles and climbs carefully into the tub, tucking herself forward against the front.  He clambers in behind her and brackets her with his legs.  She leans back and the bubbles pop between his chest and her shoulders.  He lets his arms slip around her.  He doesn't know where the limits are anymore.  He'd rather be tentative than run up against some invisible boundary.  But they're naked together and in the bath with the smell of lavender rising up around them, so the rules have obviously changed.

"Mulder," she says, as if it isn't just the two of them, always.

"Hmm."  He lets his arm rub gently against her breasts and she sighs happily.

"Do you really want to marry me?"

He blows out a breath.  He can feel it deflecting off her shoulder.  "You don't mince words, do you, Scully?"

"It's expedient to get to the heart of things," she says, shaping the bubbles idly between her palms.

"Begin with a Y-incision," he says.  

"And yet you're still evading my question," she says.  

"The man I was pretending to be definitely wants to marry the woman you were pretending to be," he says thoughtfully.  

"Fair enough," she says.  "I hope the man I was in bed with wasn't pretending anything, because he stuck to the same story."

"It would be convenient in some ways," he hedges.  "I'm tired of arguing with hospital staff who won't let me see you."

"Mulder," she says firmly.  

He takes a deep breath and presses his lips to her hair.  "Yes," he says finally.  "I want to marry you."

"Why?" she asks.  "Aside from the convenience."  

"Because I fucking love you," he says.  He's frustrated and embarrassed and overwhelmed and lovelorn.  He never imagined confessing to the back of her head while they were both naked.  He feels soft around the edges, and it isn't pruning from the bathwater.   "I don't even know how long it's been.  I realized, when you were taken, but I don't know when it started.  This whole pretending-to-date thing was imaginary and then it wasn't.  Maybe it never was, for me."

"And so you proposed?" she asks.  

"I know how much this has worn on you," he says.  "I just wanted you to have a moment where you might feel like your life was falling into place, even if you thought it was pretend."

"That was kind of you," she says after a pause.  "Or at least intended well."

"You know what they say about good intentions," he says.  "But I know it's been tough on you, trying to be friends with them.  I recognize that."

"It isn't tough on you?" she asks.

"I haven't had a dream like that in a while," he says.  "The house, the family.  It didn't seem to be something I could aspire to.  So no, it wasn't hard for me.  I didn't have to pretend that I wanted to be your boyfriend.  Every week was like a glimpse of something I never imagined I could have, but I never wanted what they had."

"I see," she says.  He doesn't need to see her face to know she's wearing that serious expression, the one that refines the concept of gravitas, or maybe gravity.  

"Sorry," he says.

The water sloshes as she moves.  "Sorry for what, Mulder?"

"I don't know," he says.  "It seems unfair, that I was living out this scenario that I was invested in to a different degree than you were.  It seems like false pretenses.  You didn't really have a chance to agree to play along."

"Have you ever known me to play along when I didn't want to?" Scully asks.

He considers it.  "No."  

She snorts.  "Aren't you a profiler?"

"I play one on tv," he jokes.  

She turns, the water washing back and forth between them, and braces her hands on his thighs as she kneels on the floor of the tub.  "So," she says.  "Profile me."

"You saw your ex and panicked," he says, unable to keep himself from gazing at her.  Her skin is slick and flushed and daubed with bubbles.  "I provided a plausible cover story to alleviate your distress."

"Plausible why?" she asks.

"I'm a handsome guy," he teases.  "Not quite in your league, but it's a convincing enough match."

"And why is that, Agent Mulder?" she asks, her voice low and even.  

"Our intimacy is apparent even to strangers," he theorizes.  "Society doesn't have many models of platonic heterosexual friendship, and here I could but won't quote When Harry Met Sally.  Hence the tendency to mistake us for a couple, even a married couple."  

"And from where does that intimacy derive?" she asks.

"Whence does the principle of life proceed?" he quotes, striving for whimsy.  "We have a history.  We've shared a number of remarkable experiences, even traumatic ones.  It's made us close.  I'd hazard even closer than most partners in law enforcement.  I certainly didn't make out with Jerry or Reggie.  Or even Krycek."

"And?" she says, leaning closer.  

"And what?" he asks, extremely distracted by her approaching cleavage.

"You said yourself most partners aren't this close," she says.  "Despite their own remarkable experiences.  Why are you and I believable as a couple when other partners weren't?"

He shunts away any thought of Diana.  "I guess I'm not the profiler I thought I was.  What am I missing, Doctor Scully?"

She laughs, but it catches in her throat.  "What are you missing?"

He shrugs.  The bubbles rock on the surface of the water.  "Maybe our inside jokes give it that hint of verisimilitude.  I don't know.  I've nev...I'm not married. "

"I'm in love with you, you idiot," she says quietly.  

"What?" he says.

"I'm in love with you," she repeats.  

"Uh," he says.  

"That's not exactly the response I expected," she says, leaning away from him.  He reaches out for her.

"This is not the turn I expected my day to take," he says quickly.  "We're naked in the tub together and you're saying things I only imagined when I was drugged out of my mind, Scully.  I just need a second to process.  And maybe you should pinch me."

"I'm not going to pinch you," she says.  "Why did you hesitate when you said you weren't married?"

He sighs.  "I was engaged once.  To one of my other former partners.  Diana.  She didn't leave me at the altar, exactly, but she did take an international assignment between the engagement and the wedding.  In the year between losing her and meeting you, I threw myself into my work.  Spooky Mulder, all alone down in the basement."

He can see the pain in her eyes, the urge to retreat into herself, to swathe herself in terrycloth and detachment.  "No wonder you tried to keep me at arm's length."

"Didn't work," he says.  He catches at her fingers.  "Hey.  Scully."

"Sometimes I forget I don't know everything about you," she murmurs, not meeting his eyes.  

He kisses her damp palm.  "Now you know everything about me," he promises.  

"I didn't know you were in love with me," she says.

"I didn't know you were in love with me," he says, "so that's fair.  You talked such a good game about how much our friendship meant to you."

"It did," she says.  "It does."  She sighs.  "There was a moment in the restaurant where I was completely thrilled.  Even when I remembered that it was pretend, I loved you for doing that for me.  But it's hard to know that it wasn't the first time you'd asked someone."  

"If it helps, I didn't get down on one knee in public," he says.  "I barely proposed at all.  It was more of an agreement."

"But you gave her this ring," she says, looking at it.  

He nods.  "It didn't fit her.  Must have been a metaphor.  I got it sized for you."

She flexes her fingers.  "You knew my ring size."

"I like to think I know most things about you," he offers, "but I also believe your enigmatic nature is part of your charm."

She looks squarely at him.  "What are we going to do?"

"I thought we were going to finish our bath," he says.  "Maybe get all sweaty again almost immediately.  Decide where we wanted to have our haunted honeymoon."

"Planning the honeymoon before the wedding?" she says.  "Sounds like something there should be a superstition about."

"We don't have to," he says.  "We don't have to do any of it.  If you want me to leave, we can start again from square one or square whatever, whenever you're ready.  If you're ready.  We don't have to deal with this today."

She purses her lips.  "'This' being the fact that I'm in love with you and you're in love with me and it's possible that we're engaged despite never having actually been in an relationship?"  

"'This' was shorter," he says.  

She sighs and turns back around, settling against his chest.  He loops his arms around her and rests his cheek against her head.  It's always strange to be at odds with Scully, when all he wants when he's upset is to seek comfort in her company.  

"We could still get married," he murmurs.  

"It might not be the easiest thing to explain to my mother," she says.

"I don't know about that," he says, remembering Maggie's gentleness during Scully's abduction.  "But we could elope."

"If we did, we wouldn't have to invite Ethan and Jenny," Scully muses.  "My mother might forgive me.  Bill's wedding was enough for all of us."

"Or we could pretend none of this ever happened," he offers.  

"Are you going to walk up to me in a bar?" she teases.  "Introduce yourself, try to get a date."

"I told you, I'm not in your league."  He kisses the side of her head.  "We could stay in this bath forever."

"The water would get cold," she counters.  

"Then I guess we can mark that off the list of options," he says.  "What's left?"

"I think that covers it," she says.  "Either move forward or pretend we can go back to the beginning."

"Be kind, rewind," he quips.  "We've had a lot of practice playing pretend at this point."

"I'm not sure acting is my forte," she murmurs.  

"Once more into the breach," he offers.  

"That's a hell of a way to proposition a lady," she jokes.  She turns in his arms again, tipping her face up to his.  Her body is warm and slippery against his.  He shifts his arms to steady her.  

"I'm not the world's foremost authority on seduction," he says.  

"No," she agrees, "but you've got a certain appeal."  She stretches up to kiss him.  "As an empiricist, it seems to me that the only way to see if this will work is to try it."

"I've always admired your scientific rigor," he says.  

"And my breasts?" she teases.

"Those too," he agrees.

"Make me believe," she says, and kisses him.

#the x-files fic #the xfiles fic #xfiles au fic #msr #mulder x scully #my fic #fic: baseball metaphors #i tried to get them to bone but they're chatty mofos

[tisthenightofthewitch]

GHOST ON HOW THEIR SATANIC CATHEDRAL TURNED INTO A FAMILY AFFAIR

Inside the extremely fun and incredibly satanic world of the pop-metal darlings.

Ghost have created something so special, you would almost think they struck a deal with the devil. Since their 2006 formation, the Swedish metal outfit have turned lyrics about defecating the holy eucharist into quaint singalongs, sold marital aids sculpted in the shape of their frontman’s head, performed on late-night TV to an audience of the demonically possessed and are currently playing stadium shows with Metallica—and all the while, they’ve only been giving it about 20-30%.

“This sounds like a joke, and I’m saying it sort of smiling, but it’s true—everything you’ve ever seen us do has always been a lesser version of what I had in mind. Always. 100%. So my original vision for everything is always twice as ambitious and goes through so many changes that we usually end up with 20 or 30% of it,” Tobias Forge says, also currently known as Cardinal Copia.

Forge, 38, is the Walt Disney figure “band boss” who conducts the decadent dark magic and weird whimsy that are Ghost—a band as humorous as they are blasphemous; as Beach Boys as they are Black Sabbath. They’re arguably the only group who can make an ABBA cover feel like it belongs on a record that contains a track about the conception of the Antichrist.

For those still uninitiated in the theatricality of the band’s iconography and public persona, Ghost are a band of nameless ghouls adorned in uniform black clerical garb and chrome-plated devil masks that are blank-eyed and devoid of mouths and any distinctive facial features. Forge has portrayed a different persona for each of the band’s records, always the demonic leader of the group. He’s been four versions of the satanic antipope, Papa Emeritus, over the course of their first three records and currently assumes the role of Cardinal Copia for their latest release, 2018’s Prequelle. Copia is a loose-skinned, expressionless creature of the Id decked out in a lavish tuxedo and inverted crosses galore, but regardless of the persona, the man behind the unholy imp strives to fully embody his role.

“What I like, especially when you’re stepping into a character, is never to be forced to step out of that character, which you have to do at times,” Forge says. “You allow yourself to become that weirdo onstage that dances ridiculously and does those things, and it just comes naturally. That gives me a kick because I personally transform into someone that I’m not really myself, at least when I’m sober. I’m not very much like that guy onstage in real life, but I can invoke that person by getting all that shit on, getting into character and going up onstage and that thing just happens. All of a sudden, I think differently, I say almost whatever comes into mind…it’s allowing yourself to just go on every impulse, and that’s what makes that character funny as well—he’s obnoxious.”

Throughout the history heavy music, there have been many theatrical bands, but Ghost are not only theatrical, they are theater. The band members are fully committed to their parts. The Nameless Ghouls are truly that—Nameless Ghouls; when onstage, Forge is absolved of himself and exists solely as Cardinal Copia. Forge’s full commitment to concept and character requires him to not only assume the roles of songwriter and frontman, but he also serves as the band’s chief playwright and director. Regardless of role or job description, Forge is, more than anything, an artist possessed by one thing: the idea of finding an unpremeditated flow.

“There is a narrative for every album cycle, and I do envision every show as a play, slightly more than your traditional rock ’n’ roll show even though we are a rock ’n’ roll band,” he explains. “It’s also, to the point, theatrical improvisation, in the vein of Bruce Springsteenwhere he asks the crowd, ‘What do you want to hear?’ That would not work with Ghost. It would disrupt the flow. It’s just not orchestrated that way. It’s not written that way. The setlists would crumble as soon as someone would yell out ‘Monstrance Clock,’ which is our last number. If we played that second, it would fuck up the whole thing. Whereas other bands and other artists, like Bruce Springsteen, have such a massive [catalog] of songs. He has so many ballads and so many uptempo songs that he knows that ‘I can play seven of them in the beginning, and it doesn’t matter because I still have 14 of them in the end.’ So he get away with doing four hours of that.

“As I said, I’m a stickler for flow,” he continues. “I really want it to flow like a Karate kata. I really want it to be like The Matrix when everything just slows down, and he just stands there. It just flows right through me. That’s what I want to achieve every night. So therefore, I regard it as a little bit more of a theater play where there’s a script, and my goal is to do it as fluently as I can without thinking. I don’t want to overthink things at all, and once I step into the character, I preferably want to stop thinking, because if I start thinking, then I start going through the moves, and I start faking it, and that’s what I want to avoid. By having a rigid setlist and a plan, I’m able to get myself and everyone else to do that.”

To many, the early allure of Ghost was how fully devoted the group’s players were to their parts, predicated on the clandestine charm of no one knowing the identities of the band’s members. The faces and names of Papa Emeritus and his Nameless Ghouls were completely shrouded in a secrecy that helped ease their fans into fully suspending disbelief and treating the presentation of the music with as much gravitas as a satanic clergy would command. In deep pockets of the sect, the name “Tobias Forge” had been whispered and attached to the Papa Emeritus character for most of their career, but it wasn’t until 2017 that Forge’s identity would be publicly confirmed as the ringleader of the group.

“I had come to a point in my life and in my career where not doing certain things was not doing me any favors,” he reveals. “It was making life hard, harder than I felt was necessary, and I just felt like now, almost 10 years into my career, the time and effort that I’m putting into the visual presentation should be so strong and so overshadowing whatever I do as a person on the side. So far, I’ve gotten the impression that that’s still the case. As long as I don’t overcompensate that, I don’t think that I will ever do anything that will overshadow the real focus of what I want Ghost to be.”

The 2019 Grammys provided Forge an opportunity to further challenge the public’s perception of Ghost. For the first time, Forge appeared in public as himself—stripped of all elements of pagan pageantry and accompanied by his wife. The couple walked the red carpet, posed for photos together and Forge conducted interviews without any trace of his Cardinal Copia alter ego.

“A lot of fans seem to embrace a lot of things that are mine, like my personal traits, and I’ve tried not to bring that into my presentation,” he shares. “But if they hold on to those and want to include it in their perception, there’s really nothing I can do about that. As long as they find that enriching or interesting, then…fine. The only thing would be those fans, who liked Ghost on the premise that it was something that they knew nothing about, and seeing my face on the red carpet may have destroyed all that and they don’t listen to Ghost anymore…OK. Too bad. These are the turmoils and tribulations that you stand in front of as an artist, you know? [Laughs.] You can’t let that dictate your life just because you’re aware of it.”

The meteoric rise of the band’s notoriety is nothing short of stunning. Throughout their career, the throughline of their material is the one thing they’ve never attempted to keep secret—this band make music about worshipping the devil. There’s nothing discreet or hidden. There is no veil of metaphor to pull aside, no subtlety. They write songs about Lucifer, and they perform on a stage that’s designed to give their audience the experience of attending a satanic church service. Throughout their catalog, they have songs that romanticize plagues, call for the coming of the Antichrist and very literally glorify the dark lord Lucifer, yet their latest release was sold in Target stores with two exclusive bonus tracks and a collectible lenticular album cover.

They’re the rare band who can fully embrace controversial and culturally taboo subject matter without listeners having to play their records backward to find it, yet they write such inherently catchy pop hooks that songs such as “Dance Macabre” are the perfect soundtrack for both your occult worship ritual after-party and something you could probably play if you were driving your mom to the grocery store. They’ve found a way to stay true to the Black Mass and still speak to the masses, and with that unique platform comes an extremely diverse audience and a fanbase who has grown out of the traditional heavy-metal demographic.

“When we’re playing bigger places for some reason, it’s a little more of a family event, to a certain extent,” Forge says. “The people are more in tune with the level that what we want to have it because we’ve been trying to get the point across that we want people to be excited. We want people to stand. We want general admission, big floor in front of the stage. I don’t like seeing frowns. I don’t like seeing feet, but you can’t start moshing. You can’t start hitting people. You can’t stage dive because there are kids everywhere, and there are small girls everywhere, and there are teenage boys and girls that cannot lift you because, you know, you’re a 40-year-old hardcore dude with a lot of muscle. You can’t jump on them.

“I think there’s often a clash sometimes—we are a metal band, originally,” he continues. “Sometimes there have been these clashes where you have the die-hard fans who’ve been with the band ever since [the beginning] who are used to going to metal shows only, and they want to claim Ghost as ‘this,’ and at a metal show, you do ‘this,’ and then you have this 15-year-old daughter of a dad, and they did not go to see Mayhem last week, and they were not at Slayer three weeks ago.”

In support of Prequelle, Ghost have been playing two-and-a-half hour sets with the ultimate goal of having their audience “come in overexcited and leave completely euphoric.” Currently, they’re touring as direct support for Metallica. The tour is further indication of the band’s rising celebrity, having earned the opportunity to play a one-hour set every night, but the gig has also posed a challenge to Forge’s ever-persistent pursuit of “flow.”

“It’s very different from the tours we’ve done so far in this cycle, because it’s supporting again,” he explains. “It’s stadiums. We’re playing for one hour, which is nothing for us. But the stage is four times bigger than an arena stage or a theater stage, so there’s a lot of real estate to cover, and it’s daytime. More often than not, it’s going to be maybe sunset, at best, but it’s going to be an afternoon or evening sun, straight in your face and also, not our crowd. It’ll be a Metallica crowd. They’re waiting for Metallica to play, so it’s a different vibe.”

Although touring in the Metallica support slot, Ghost have been afforded their full stage production setup, transforming the nightly stadium into a cathedral dedicated to Copia’s depraved church—giving the performers a fitting stage and the audience a fully immersive experience. Yet, despite the garish stage pieces and meticulously ornate sets that become more and more elaborate with his band’s growth, Forge heeds to the idea that with everything he does, what the audience sees is a compromised version of his initial vision. Whatever you see Ghost do is about 20-30% of what Forge wants it to be. Currently, Forge is fixated on the potential he sees in using the intermission during their two-hour set to elevate the show to the next level of theatricality.

“The idea with the intermission, originally, was for the stage to change so when we open up again, it would be a different stage. Things like that are what I’m aiming to do in the future if we can stay on an arena level, where we can bring our own stage. Then I would like to do that—whatever we started with ends up being something completely different. I want it to evolve. I want it to change, the same as when you go to see Phantom Of The Opera. They change the themes, and it takes you from A to F, and that’s what I’m hoping to achieve in the end. I think we’re doing a good job of getting people happy and euphoric, but I definitely think we could probably shift gears even more to get people completely euphoric when they leave. But it takes time, and there’s a lot of stars that need to align, and there’s a lot of things you need to work your way up to in order to have that consistency.”

So far, the stars have aligned for Ghost in ways that often never manifest themselves past the point of prayer. Their unlikely amalgam of occult phantasmagoria and radio-ready mass appeal is most likely a once-in-a-lifetime deal—but while it’s happening, Forge is fully devoted to serving Ghost’s congregation.

“I have no problem playing the same songs all the time as long as you have a crowd, as long as you have people there to do it with you,” he asserts.. “So that’s the one thing I’m always hoping for…happiness.”

The band’s latest Prequelle is available now here. Ghost are hitting a handful of U.S. festival weekends and returning in September for a full run. You can check out a full list of dates and tickets here.

ALL RIGHTS OWNED BY ALTPRESS.COM

#Tobias Forge #Tobias Interview #The Band Ghost #Ghost Band #Cardinal Copia

[cordoniasmost]

As the World Burns - Part 2

Story: Blood Bound

Pairing: MC (Amy) x Adrian x Jax x Dracula x ? (it’s basically a clown car up in here, y’all!)

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual innuendo/discussions

Word Count: 1272

Find Part 1 Here

A/N: When I stumbled on the theory about MC being pregnant as the reason for the “darkness within” line from yesterday’s chapter of BloodBound (Book 2, chapter 14), I had to write something super dramatic and funny (read: ridiculous) because what’s life without a little whimsy? Haha :)  This series is going to be 3-4 parts (maybe 5...).  Enjoy!

Tag List: @kingliamsbish ​ @averysheart-raleighsdick ​@furiouscloddonutpeanut @dr-brianna-casey-valentine @angrypainterfarmopera @mrsagentbreakdance

That night, Amy laid in bed waiting for Adrian to get home from another night of hunting with Jax. She wasn’t sure if she should tell them together or separately about the baby. She knew she needed to tell them right away because she had so many questions and she doubted she could talk to a normal doctor about anything going on with her. Once Dr. Brite had given her the news, she had really taken a look at herself in the mirror and realized that she already had a small but defined bump. 

No, she couldn’t keep this to herself for any length of time. Who knew that kind of fresh hell would come from that? She didn’t want to find out. She couldn’t even think about what Serafine had told her without practically having a panic attack. What even is this thing inside of me? What if it’s the literal spawn of Satan and I’m about to unleash some sort of hellscape on the world? 

She also had no idea when her last period was supposed to be considering she’d been taking the shot continuously to not get her periods. Being around vampires all the time and bleeding once a month had led to some kinky shit once and she had no intention of experiencing that again. Adrian had given new meaning to the term ‘getting your red wings’. Not only that, but it was incredibly embarrassing to walk into a conference room full of vampires and see them all sniffing the air. No thanks.

Her birth control had failed her at some point. Either that or one of the vamps she’d been with had super sperm. She wouldn’t put it past any of them. Any of them. When had she turned into such a sex fanatic? She had always liked sex, but since she’d discovered the world of vampires she’d been on a whole new level. She loved Adrian and Jax both, but when a hot vampire crossed her path she couldn’t seem to say no. She felt it was important to experience as much of life as she could and if that meant banging Dracula on his ceiling that was just what she was going to do. What she had done. It wasn’t nearly as great as she’d expected but it was definitely an experience. 

She was lucky that neither Adrian or Jax seemed to be possessive of her, especially not with each other. They all seemed to understand each other, the two men actually finding sexual pleasure with each other from time to time, too. They existed in their own love triangle only without the drama. It just seemed to work.

Amy wondered if all that would change now that there would be a baby involved. What if it was Jax’s? How would Adrian feel? Ugh, and would he want her to have his baby next? She was not about to become some weird twisted vamp baby making machine. No fucking way.

What if it was Adrian’s? She knew he lost his only son once and he’d probably be pretty excited about the idea. Well, the timing’s not great, what with the potential end of the world stuff happening right now, she thought. Still, she couldn’t help but picture Adrian as being the best one of the bunch as far as dad material goes. Drac would fall to the bottom of that list. He’d be the worst father known to man. She dreaded the fact she’d have to get in contact with him and get some DNA to figure out who the father was. She was going to have to depend on the two men in her life to pressure Drac into it because she knew he’d never listen to her. Unless I had something he couldn’t refuse…

***

Amy groaned and rolled over in bed, the sound of the softly closing door had woken her up. She must have fallen asleep while waiting for Adrian to come home. She’d texted him asking him to bring Jax with him. She’d come to the conclusion that this conversation was going to be awkward AF and she’d rather just have it once. 

“Adrian?” she called out.

She heard footsteps approaching the bedroom before he popped his head in the door. “Hey,” he smiled. “Were you sleeping?”

She sighed. “I was, for the first time in forever I was actually getting decent sleep.” She knew she sounded bitchy but she really didn’t give a shit. She hadn’t been able to eat, sleep, or have sex in almost a week. She was frustrated and cranky and she felt justified in that moment taking it out on anyone in her general vicinity. He just laughed as he stepped into the room, Jax on his heels.

“Hey, Amy,” Jax said with the crooked smile that made his eyes crinkle and her insides turn to mush. Ugh, it had been way too long since she’d gotten laid. She felt her mouth actually water at the sight of the two of them in her and Adrian’s bedroom. She swallowed and sat up, trying to regain her composure. She squeezed her thighs together, creating friction where she suddenly felt like she needed it most. It wasn’t working.

Adrian raised his eyebrow at her, a grin spreading across his face. He could read her like a book, always knowing what she needed before she needed it. “Is this why you asked Jax to come back with me?” he asked.

Jax’s low chuckle was like a match to gasoline within her and she growled, actually growled, like a goddamn animal. “Ugh, no! Just shut up and come sit down. I have something to tell you and it’s important. Stop riling me up, you know I won’t be able to say no and I need to talk to the both of you,” she said, adding, “But don’t go anywhere after I’m done. We’ll see how you both feel, but I know I’ll be down for a serious vamp deep d-”

“Okaaaay,” Adrian cut her off, laughing. “We get it. What did you want to talk to us about, Amy?”

She motioned for them to sit on the bed with her, taking one of their hands in each of hers. Her eyes moved from one face to another and back again as she wondered how the hell she was going to tell them this. It’s not everyday you have to tell your vampire lovers you’re pregnant and you don’t know who’s baby it could be. She had never felt more disgusted and proud of herself at the same time as she did in this moment.  Like one of those girls on trashy daytime reality TV, she thought. Amy had never considered she might be in their same situation but here she was, only hers was worse. She not only had no idea who the father of her baby was but it was definitely a vampire. Yep, this takes the cake for weirdest situation ever.

“C’mon, Amy. Just spit it out already,” Jax said. “Let’s get to the fun stuff.” He winked at her, smiling. 

“You asked for it,” she said before blowing out a breath. They both looked at her expectantly. 

“Jax, Adrian… I’m-”

At that moment, Adrian’s cell phone rang in his pocket. He let go of her hand to pull it out, frowning at the screen before silencing the call.

“Who calls people anymore?” she asked, throwing her hands up and rolling her eyes. “May I continue?” she asked.

Adrian nodded. She took a deep breath, grabbing both of their hands again, their eyes on her.

“Guys… I’m pregnant.”

#bloodbound #choices fan fiction #choices bloodbound #bb #choices bb #jax x mc #adrian x amy #adrian x mc #adrian x mc x jax #play choices #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #pixelberry #dracula x mc

[spacymuses]

♦ gimme the disney aus (visits or them suffering as cast members)

ohohoHOHOHOHO–

Gonna cut this one because you know it’s gonna be a long post.

Luca

Being from an established showbiz family in Los Angeles that was definitely well-off enough to afford annual passes, Luca visited Disneyland a lot as a child. By the time he was born, his oldest brother was old enough to take them on his own, so he usually just went with his siblings. It wasn’t really fun for him for a while–his brothers kind of were annoyed at having to drag this much younger kid around when all they wanted to do was go ride all the big thrill rides he was too small for. 

Things got better after his little sister Anna started coming with them. The older kids could go on all the roller coasters, and Luca could just take Anna on the tea cups or the Winnie the Pooh ride or whatever. 

Up until the point where Anna was old enough for the thrill rides, and then she absolutely just wanted to ride the thrill rides. 

Walt Disney would’ve been Luca’s hero though. Commercializing whimsy and nostalgia to such an extent that your company is basically synonymous with American childhood? Life goals. 

His favorite Disney Parks food were the Mickey beignets at the Mint Julep Bar.  

Aki

AKI STOLE BUZZY. IT WAS HER.

Really it’s kind of hard to imagine Aki going to any Disney Park though. She’s not going to ride any rides, and though crowds means good pick-pocketing if she were still in the thief life, her MO was more corporations and art galleries and not families on vacation. 

She’d love the food though. I can see her hanging out at, like, Disney Springs/Downtown Disney and just chilling out with a cupcake and a coffee to people-watch. 

Her favorite Disney Parks food would be the salted caramel cupcake from Karamell Kuche in Epcot or the rose cupcake from Boardwalk Bakery. 

Lucius

It him

Does he hate theme parks? Yes. Is he the parent of a tiny child? Yes. He’s going at least once.

Realistically though it probably would just be like, once. Celia is an extremely anxious little kid and gets stressed out and scared in crowds, so theme parks are difficult for her. And then she’d get more stressed out because she definitely wanted to go to Disney World, but feels bad for not having a great time. Lucius is very good at telling when maybe she just needs a little downtime at the resort. 

Letting Celia ride on his shoulders also helps calm her down when she’s upset, and she loves getting (what a five year old would consider) a birds’ eye view of the park as they walk around. 

You know what always works though? A ride on Spaceship Earth. Let me and my kid take a nap in an air-conditioned room for 15 minutes while Judy Dench tells us about history. We’ll be ready for Soarin’ in no time. 

Lucius taking Celia to the Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique! She went with the Elsa makeover, Elsa is her favorite. 

His favorite Disney Parks food would be the Citrus Swirl at Sunshine Tree Terrace in Epcot. 

Ciro

He loves ALL the thrill rides, but Rock ‘n Rollercoaster is his SHIT. He does a pretty solid impression of the Steve Tyler countdown before the coaster launches in the beginning, and yes, he will repeat it every time. Along with that “HELLO HOLLYWOOD” 

Doesn’t really do the fireworks shows or parades. More people watching them means less people in the line for Space Mountain so he can ride it for the third time today.

Has actually been to a bunch of the international parks, usually just if he was in the country on business anyway and happened to have a day or two off. The only one he hasn’t made it out to at least once is Disneyland Paris. He REALLY would’ve liked the Iron Man Experience in HK Disneyland. 

His favorite Disney Parks food is the turkey leg because it is a BIG MEAT and he is gonna EAT IT.

Kira

Has not been to a Disney park and probably never will. Her family did like, ski trips and horseriding and other Rich English Kid Stuff for their fun summer holidays, theme parks were not the Isherwoods’ scene. 

If she did go you would probably catch her chatting up ladies at a poolside bar at one of the resorts, most likely trying to impress them with random facts about the park that she found on Wikipedia 25 minutes ago.

Her favorite Disney Parks food would be the Maine lobster at Victoria & Albert’s.

Reema

REEMA AS A CAST MEMBER THOUGH.

I googled the Disney cast member auditions’ page to get a better idea of what they might be doing, and came across one for Star Wars face characters that said in the middle of an otherwise very businesslike audition sheet, “You must be able to reproduce an imperial march with a cadenced approach.” That’s admittedly not Reema, but that line made me laugh a lot for some reason, so please imagine Reema getting cast as a Storm Trooper and doing their level best to do a military-style march with no added dramatic flourish. 

No but really they’d hate being a Storm Trooper, let them be in one of the full-body costumes so they can embrace their talent for hyper-exaggerated movement. They’d do well in pretty much any of them, but I could especially see maybe Joy, Dale, or Tigger. Honestly, I could see them doing pretty damn well as Mickey or Minnie Mouse. 

Their family lives in Miami so they’re close enough to visit the park every now and again. Their mom asks “hey are u my child” to every mascot character she comes across until she finds Reema. 

Their favorite Parks food is the churros

Claudia

Honestly the Parks in general would just blow her away. So many people, so much to see, so much packed into literally every corner. She would end up spending a good hour or so just browsing around Main Street, wandering through every single shop, and taking in the atmosphere. Something new distracts her every second. Don’t let her out of your sight or you’re gonna lose her. 

Claudia wants to do everything. Country Bear Jamboree? Let’s go. Carousel of Progress? We’re already in line. The 360-degree O Canada show in Epcot? Sign her the fuck up. It would actually kind of overwhelm her because everywhere she looks there’s more to see and do and literally no way of doing it all on one trip. 

Please imagine her riding the Prince Charming Carrousel with the most Stoic Expression.

She’s gonna listen to Sonny Eclipse’s entire set. 

She is okay on the thrill rides but doesn’t enjoy them as much as the slower dark rides and things like It’s a Small World. Haunted Mansion is weird for her, she already has 999 Happy Haunts inside her sword so these others are just overkill. 

Her favorite Parks food are the hot dogs at Casey’s. And Dole Whip. And popcorn. And turkey legs. And the Grey Stuff cupcakes at Be Our Guest. And churros. And the Cheshire Cat tails. And the Mickey-shaped ice cream bars. And the Mickey-shaped pretzels. And the Mickey-shaped rice krispie treats. And the Mickey-shaped cake pops. And the Mickey-shaped candy apples. And the Minnie-shaped candy apples. And funnel cake. And the school bread in Epcot. And the caramel corn in Epcot. And the corn dogs. And the kitchen sink sundae. And--yeah you know what literally everything is Claudia’s favorite please just let her stop at all the snack stands. 

#stahl konigin #[headcanons] canons from my head

[death-himself]

enjoy my theories and me connecting dots that weren’t meant to be connected and also random notes

this is from my third time watching the new episode, including every single tiny detail i noticed because when it comes to theorizing i either dont do anything or go all out

also know that I am terrible at reading facial expressions so most of those parts are likely wrong

(under the cut because on google docs it said it was 7 pages long and i am afraid)

virgil looks automatically anxious and frustrated

logan stutters a lot after roman makes the "take off your glasses" joke and i cant tell if hes confused or if hes actually offended by that

what they all say the first time they yell at logan: virgil: "shut up before i shut you up" thomas: "WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH" patton: "hey now heeeyy nowww" slowly turning into song

thomas calls virgil "the purp man"

references to Sword and the stone? may refer to something?

second time they yell at logan: virgil: "i'm gonna prohibit your BREATHING if you keep this up" (damn virge calm down) thomas: "please stop please i really dont want to think about it" patton doesnt speak (im pretty sure)

virgil glances at thomas a lot

is it just me or around the time virgil says "we're going to talk about something else now" he starts to sound a lot like deceit? Especially with that "sure"

roman gets easily distracted

"of course you're not a chick. You're a metaphysical human being. A chick is a really ??? girl"

why does remus appear behind the TV?

patton notices remus when saying "evil" virgil notices remus when saying "show up" and his tempest tongue comes in

when roman get knocked out the first time virgil looks at thomas like hes frustrated or annoyed maybe he looks at thomas like that because he thought it was thomas that was to blame for him showing up? since he was the one to have those intrusive thoughts?

also why does remus smack roman with a morning star?

all dark sides wear eye shadow confirmed

also this disproves the theory that all dark sides have a more animalistic features, therefore proving the headcanon that deceit just puts on makeup to look like he has scales on his face because hes dramatic

virgil looks kind of scared right before the song starts

during the song: logan looks done with everything thomas looks scared virgil looks furious and maybe defensive (that snarl tho) patton looks confused

why is patton of all sides to be the one to puke out remus (that's probably not the weirdest line i've written)

Remus considers any creativity that isn't dirty or horrific (aka his stuff) to be dull or boring

I think the A-Z part of the song is a reference to this one song video about the ABCs of ways to die but i have no clue

Even early on in the song when logan says "It's fine" it shows that hes trying to sort this out and get to the problem, but Remus prevents him from continuing, then allows Pat and Virge to say their thoughts

ROMAN CALLS REMUS "BRO" 8 MINUTES IN

"recently a snake offered me a morsel from the tree of knowledge" reference to deceit but also adam and eve

one of deceit's hands is holding a gavel reference to SvS

also deceit wears a coat just sayin

"No longer will you deceive yourself about the ugliness within you" this means that deceit really doesn't want thomas to lie to himself

why is deceit always the one with multiple arms when half his face is a snake? snakes dont have arms

Is remus holding up the mirror to thomas a reference to remus and roman basically being mirror images of each other?

Remus is SO PALE compared to thomas WHICH IS WEIRD CUZ THOMAS IS ALREADY REALLY PALE

I think remus is actually a lot smarter than he seems he knows how to manipulate thomas into believing hes a bad person by using religious topics and language, something that's been with thomas his whole life

also while remus is singing about hell he turns from normal to fully colored green, similar to all the other sides

Virgil looks so disturbed and frustrated after the song

"I'm really stupid right now" MOOD

when remus agrees with thomas that roman's his creativity he's just like "yeah...." SIBLING RELATIONSHIPS TO A T

Virgil and Remus argue like they know each other super well

Patton's so pure he doesn't even like to say "B-hole" precious dad

Remus uses words that have been said before to back himself up "Why do you want to stifle your own creativity, thomas?" 12 Days of Christmas: "We shouldn't stifle Roman's creative whimsy!" also all the other times roman's admitted to feeling ignored

Virgil's so uncomfortable he might have been afraid that remus would outright say that hes a dark side (bc honestly remus seems like the kind of guy to do that)

Why does remus like Jeffery Dommer so much?

also when remus turned his head to the side at about 10:30 the music matches and sounds like hes cracking his neck

Remus gets confused for a moment when Logan takes his "lot of good that did him!" seriously this seems to be a recurring theme throughout all the dark sides: them being confused by logan taking things literally You think I'm joking? I'm not Virgil early on gets frustrated that logan seems to "only take what he says literally" and I'm pretty sure I remember some time where deceit has to stop to process the fact that logan took one of his metaphors seriously

LOGAN IS A PSYCHOLOGY NERD AND WOULD LIKELY BE A PRETTY DECENT THERAPIST. YOU CAN NOT CHANGE MY MIND

Patton looks so scared when logan asks him to do the experiment. Hes like "what? what do you need me for? what's going on?"

virgil looks so tired and annoyed when he says "good save"

LOGAN GIVING OUT VALIDATION TO PATTON AND THEN LATER TO VIRGIL IS ADORABLE

wait does virgil blow at his bangs whenever he's really annoyed or anxious? because he did that in moving on part 2 while he was dealing with his panic attack in pattons room and then in this episode where he is clearly anxious throughout the whole thing

"No mommy I dont want the mashed potatoes" ROMAN HAS A MOM WHICH MEANS THAT REMUS HAS A MOM BUT WHO TF IS THEIR MOM

when thomas calls remus scary and he responds with that it sounds like a virgil problem Virgil glares at him so clearly defensive and angry remus just smiles like "yeah, i know whats going on"

virgil's the only one who doesnt suspect logan to be deceit when remus claims it

you know when everyone was creating theories about who romans counterpart would be and everyone was expecting them to be extremely elegant and suave? yeah, why the fuck did we think that? If the dark sides are like mirror images of the light sides, then of course remus would be this chaotic demon with literally no elegance whatsoever roman's the elegant, romantic, graceful prince, so of course whatever remus is would be his opposite

Cane and Abel - another biblical reference

also after remus says that virgil looks like hes confused or maybe just deep in thought about something

self-immolate means to set fire to yourself i had to look it up too remus literally wants thomas to strip, set himself on fire and play shake it off

despite all the biblical references reeling thomas in, remus is sooo bad at getting his point across "and then the baby...dies" "AND NO ONE SURVIVES"

a demented version of that "hallelujah" thing plays while hes talking about the baby bird and the airplane

"I am YOUR creativity" at that it flashes to Virgil, who looks like hes thinking about it. probably a sort of build-up to show how long virgil thinks about it before admitting that remus had a point

virgil looks so nervous when remus says that hes never been one to soften the truth

"why would you aspire to be so...boring?" (i feel like the word aspire there is important for some reason)

patton tries so hard to believe that thomas is a good person to the point where he ignores logic

THAT TURN TO LOGAN REMUS DOES IS SO FRICKIN TERRIFYING

it seems like both remus and deceit seem to understand that logan is the most dangerous for them remus threatens logan to try and get him to stop talking deceit chucks logan to the very back of the courtroom in SvS

"TURN INTO A GHOST" "TURN INTO THE HULK"

"I merely gave him a baby...AND A LARGE SHARP KNIFE" ME

"one of you is enough!" I wonder how that line affected Virgil? since it's possible that at this time he was already doubting whether or not hes really grown

PATTON LITERALLY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT REPRESSION IS

that voice-crack when virgil says "But what if he's lying?" That might show how he feels about lying and deceit a bit more. he might be terrified at the thought of being lied to

paranoid is definitely a really bad word to virgil and the others know it. virgil and patton turn to look at logan the moment he says it, and logan freezes for a moment to change it into something better

when both virge and remus say "but what about jeffery dommer" virgil just looks so scared, his eyes darting around as if his mind is racing, probably worried that he really hasnt grown

they keep referring back to "that can't be where the bar is"

Logan says "figuratively" to stop Remus

"I LOVE BEING GIVEN TWO D's AT ONCE"

Virgil looks so afraid that he's still the bad guy in this its so sad

both patton and virgil laugh at poop jokes they are 29— they are very mature adults

"I would never hide anything from you" *glances at virgil* I feel like that might have been the moment virgil realized he couldn't just hide him being a dark side much longer

THEY DON'T EVEN LOOKED SCARED WHEN REMUS SCREAMED THEY JUST LOOKED ANNOYED

as the vid goes on remus tries more and more to be noticed

why did logan ask virgil how thomas was feeling instead of patton? was it because he knew thomas was really anxious or because he felt like patton would claim that he was feeling fine?

while everyone's calming down during logan's lecture, virgil just seems to grow more and more anxious, since he knows that he'll probably have to tell thomas that hes a dark side

thomas and virgil STILL dont want to go to a therapist

virgil just looks so guilty when thomas decides to lie down on the couch

"It was just like old times" when remus says that patton and logan just look so mad that he would say that

after that logan glances up at virgil to see how he feels aww

VIRGIL'S SMILE WHEN ROMAN GETS BACK UP IS SO UNSURE YET SO HOPEFUL AT THE SAME TIME

everyone just looks so proud of logan awww

virgil sounds so lost when hes about to reveal himself

he never calls them "the dark sides", just "the others"

virgil looks on the verge of tears when he says "because i was one of them". it shows how much this affects him, and how terrified he is to tell thomas. this is even more terrifying to him than telling them his name, which was shown to be an important thing to him

and afterwards thomas just goes silent, and looks so lost and confused, maybe even betrayed. he clearly needed a moment to think before saying anything

then virgil shrugs and leaves, his eyes red and full of tears, probably too scared to stay any longer

once he leaves thomas just stares at the ground processing the information

i’m bad at theorizing and my thoughts are a mess rn so all of this is probably complete shit

#sanders sides #ts spoilers #tw remus #tw duke #cursing #what i do when theorizing is write down my thoughts the moment i have them and dont look back