#alex does maybe like the whole 'being able to turn invisible' thing
Note
Dark fantasy AU?
-In hindsight, as he's being chased through the forest, hunted by mythical creatures is not where Reggie thought he'd end up when his folks told him they were moving to Los Angeles. Honestly, considering how he used to roam the woods and fields near his Meemaw's farm, the fact that he'd stumbled into a fairy circle near the beach was almost insulting.
-It's not even that he manages to outrun them. It's that one night (he thinks it's night, though time moves differently here and light and dark are all tangled up and is the purple haze of the sky supposed to be dusk or dawn or just a dark stop of the forest?) he'd decided to just... give up.
He couldn't remember how long he'd been running, running from the pounding of hooves and the yapping of dogs that did not look anything like what a dog should look like. He couldn't remember a time where he wasn't hungry, or thirsty, or tired, but something inside of him just kept making him run and run and run
-But he'd had enough. So he just sat down, with his back towards the noise, and hoped they'll kill him quickly. And to comfort himself, he sang the lullaby his Meemaw used to sing when he was scared of the thunder.
-That's what saved him. One of the fae, Caleb, was so charmed by the song that instead of doing whatever it is they did with their prey, he bundled Reggie up and took him to his... castle. Dwelling. Domain.
-He was dressed in finery and made to sing as Caleb and the other fae danced and ate and did things that Reggie very much had not wanted to see, thank you very much. But eventually, they slept, and Reggie met... the other humans who were trapped here.
-Luke, a young boy who had run away from home to become a musician in 1875. He was distraught to hear Reggie tell him it was the nineties now. Even more distraught when Reggie clarified it was the 1990s.
-There was Alex, who had been cast out of his village for reasons he did not want to share, but that Reggie figured out pretty quickly when he saw the way he looked at Willie. He'd fallen asleep near a fairy circle, and the promises he'd been made had been so tempting, he'd said yes before he fully understood the deal.
-And then there was Willie. The boy who had been stolen from his parents, a changeling left in his place. Who had grown up here, a part of this world yet not really. Who did not know what the other boys meant when they talked about years, or America, or really the whole concept of 'family'.
-Luke's the one who tells them of their escape plan. Alex is worried they can't trust Reggie not to rat him out to Caleb, and Reggie is like: um excuse me I was just hunted for sport for who knows how long you think I wanna help that guy?
-But before he can Willie just tilts his head and says: his heart is pure.
-Which is very sweet but also a little creepy.
-Anyway, they do manage to escape Caleb's clutches somehow, and end up back in the human world.
-Being yeeted out of a little ring of mushrooms in the soil of a plant Ray overwatered in the big plant wall of the Molina studio was not particularly pleasant, okay. Considering a real human should not be able to fit through that. But Willie explained that as soon as a fairy portal grew, it was only a manner of time that the fairies would notice it and stake it out to see what they could lure to their realm.
-Somehow, Luke and Alex get thrown clear across the room, Luke slamming against the door, Alex dropping onto the concrete floor.
-Reggie's not sure if him crashing against a pretty wooden piano is better or worse. The sound it made was definitely worse.
-Somehow, Willie ends up sitting crosslegged on the little piano bench, and he turns and quickly crushes up the mushrooms to destroy the portal.
-Julie, of course, is screaming, Alex and Luke and Reggie are screaming. Willie is trying to explain to Julie she over-watered her fern and pouts when she runs away.
-No they're not ghosts but they are changed and they all have weird powers. Luke nearly cries with joy that he can still summon his guitar. Alex is really not okay with this whole 'walking through walls' thing. Reggie is sad he cannot summon a puppy or a pizza.
-Willie can teleport short distances and is shocked to learn humans can't just do that? You have to walk everywhere? Or ride a horse. What's a car? What's roller skates? He needs to see one of these skateboad things immediately, let's summon the human girl back to ask for one. What can they trade for a skateboard?
-They're kind of freaked out at the whole 2020 thing, but hey, Reggie's like: at least it hasn't been a hundred years like when I told Luke about the 90s.
-Queue canon but it's even worse and more chaotic.
#julie and the phantoms#I wrote a thing#AUs are awesome#what do I even call this?#kidnapped by the fae au#I had such a hard time sorting out what was dark fantasy vs supernatural vs horror so... had a breakdown bon appetit#spent days going NO WE ARE NOT DOING A(NOTHER) CORALINE AU#I've only had creepy changeling willie who isn't entirely human anymore for 15 minutes#but if anything were to happen to him etc etc#alex does maybe like the whole 'being able to turn invisible' thing#except it doesn't work on Julie#for some reason#(*cough* Rose's great grandmother may have been a changeling)#Caleb of course is unseelie and rose's great great grandparents had trouble conceiving#they asked the fair folk for help and got a child... but then their child was swapped with a changeling after a few months#and they were all: um excuse we want our child back. No we're not giving this one back to you#tough shit a deal's a deal we gave you our magic music box for a kid and you gave us two no refunds because you screwed up#the story has been passed down for generations and Ray thinks it's a sweet fairytale#except there it's real and he's like: ... okay then. And then in true Molina tradition goes: *shrug* it's free children
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excuse me did you see alex fitzalan hanging around palmwood studios? oh no, that was obadiah " obie " shredder , the twenty eight year old actor who plays tyler colby on beautiful small untruthers. yeah, you know rumour has it they're - detached, and - smart aleck, but their fans all say they’re + endearing, and + inventive. around palmwood studios they’re known as the polymath. ( cis male, he/they)
BACKSTORY
obie was born in missouri , where he doesn’t care to remember and he’s never bothered to go looking in the shredder family records for his adoption papers. his birth parents were drug addicts.
obadiah was born on a stormy night , there was a tornado which is why he was born in a hospital instead of the trailer. it was probably the care he got as an infant that helped him turn out so “ normal “ all other things considered.
his infancy and childhood up until age four was hell , obie has a photographic memory so he remembers every detail but refuses to speak about it to anyone other than his grandfather or therapist. tw ( think food insecurity and abuse. )
the state took obie into custody after he showed up to kindergarten with burn holes in his clothing and visibly unkempt. after being placed with an awful foster family , he and one of the older foster siblings ( wanted connection!! ) made a run for it. the two of them made it to texas where they were taken into state custody again , unfortunately the two were separated. this was only made worse by how large and unorganized the texas state government is.
enter the shredders. bud and annabelle already had six children when they adopted obadiah , they didn’t change his name saying it fit rather well already. turbo , keithan , drew , cooper , aza and noah were all so different that it took a bit of adjusting to really find his place in the new , large, loud family.
bud shredder and his father tex ( we love pop pop ) are known for NASCAR , being some of the best drivers in history. they helped make the sport what it is with the oldest ( turbo ) following in her father’s footsteps until a tragic accident. annabelle is a famous writer and former teenage actress ( think s.meyer mixed with drew barrymore ) who has a very loyal and large fanbase , she’s basically been able to focus on her novels and being a stay at home mom.
obie’s relationship with his siblings is strained to say the least. at around eight years old , the six of them collectively played a prank consisting of them acting like he was invisible for a whole year. this fucked with the final coalescing of his personality and he developed a mild form of depersonalization/derealization disorder. struggles with the idea that he’s real ( like truly real and what he does has an effect on the world ). it generally manifests as an unawareness of consequences as well as an assumption that he is immaterial to life.
after cycling through every single after school activity and hobby the shredders would let him do, he settles on piano at ten and by age thirteen , obie auditions for the competition starspot and makes it to the live rounds. unfortunately , he’s not strong enough to go on as a solo act and is placed into a band with other hopefuls called two places. the group didn’t win starspot but they did grow a massive fanbase. shoutout to the travelers!
his life changed after that , the shredders moved to LA to support his career which took off much to his surprise. going from ignored to adored was a challenge but for six years straight he was just going and going. deemed the smart responsible one of the band in the meantime.
after the contract was up , obie didn’t think he wanted to renew it or really go back to music. the media liked to portray him as the one who ‘broke up the band’. maybe one day he’ll sing again but for now , he wanted something different. polymath brain craving to learn something new so acting it was , auditioning for tyler colby partially because the part was interesting but mainly because his childhood best friend was on the cast.
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Okay, here we go, time to gather my rambly thoughts about Echoes of the Past!
Huh, from the trailer I figured this version of Eda was a lot younger.
More studious Luz, please. Also that doodle is so anime, I love it.
Lilith for Titan's sake put your glasses on
Why is Lulu and Hootcipher so good, tho? 😭 (yes, Luz, it is nice that they're friends)
Ooh, invisibility glyph! Em and Ed can never know about that one (though realistically they can probably already make things invisible considering their track)
"Don't ever do that again!" "Do that again!"
Also, King seems to have a shaky grasp on object permanence.
So Lilith's a history nerd, interesting...
That black eye really just came from the high five, huh? And yes, I am still stuck on that high five, it's so good. I'll need to find a gif of it at some point.
Let's not sleep on that roast from Lilith, though. You can tell Cissy has fun with lines like that.
Raving about tyrannical rule immediately followed by Luz cooing over King with belly rubs. Yep, this is The Owl House.
Jesus Christ, Lilith, you didn't need to be so savage
Luz's turn to be mom, I guess
"Hootrageous!" Dammit, now I want to see Hooty cosplay as Brave and the Bold Aquaman.
Oh hey, Hollow Knight and Piplup!
It doesn't seem like King should be able to grab the staves so casually, but eh.
You can tell Hooty has been waiting for a long time to be allowed to go somewhere. Also him detatching from the door is apparently as gross and horrifying as everyone was led to believe.
Hooty has no right to look so adorable in that little portable house, especially with the pulsating organs!
"Oh, no, not again!"
Okay what the hell is that bathtub thing, Eda?! You had that this whole time?!?!
Very convincing "aw," Lilith. 10/10.
This episode's gonna have some lore.
Hooty really just decided to be Lilith's bodyguard, love that for him.
Luz seems especially dedicated to indulging King this episode so far.
Hooty does have a point about the graffiti. It is quite nice.
I don't know why I keep being surprised by Lilith being cute, but I love it.
"With all the sugar I eat it better be!" More mounting evidence for @nikkydash 's moss mouth Luz theory.
I see Lulu and Hootcipher have reached the "sharing a single brain cell" stage of their friendship.
So apple blood really is just booze, huh? And they serve it to children in schools? Damn, the Demon Realm is hardcore.
Luz, no! You of all people should know not to split the party!
At least high fiving a dessicated corpse wasn't Luz's first instinct?
To quote Strong Bad: "Gross! I hate you! Gross! Gross! I hate you!"
I do love Eda's potion bandoleer. Very reminiscent of my artificer in D&D.
And nice to see Lilith's big sister instinct.
Backstory time!
Am I the only one who got film noir vibes from Eda's narration?
Boy, that curse does a number in the span of eight years, huh?
BABY KING HHEIKWKWJWHWG
So that's what happened to his horn!
Holy shit that's Dana voicing baby King, isn't it?!
I know Eda lied to King, but her telling the stories to King looks so cute.
Welp, that's heartbreaking.
Also, Alex Hirsch is a good voice actor, who knew? /s
"Is this what regret feels like? I HATE IT!" Future meme material.
Oh hi, guilty Luz. Haven't seen you in...*checks watch* five minutes.
King is so...shattered. 💔 (Bravo, Alex)
"Special delivery! P A I N"
I love everything about Hooty bazooka...Hootzooka!
Putting those invisibility glyphs to work. Very nice.
(Oh god I just realized that fanfic writers have been given a dangerous tool)
Hmm, maybe those "delusions of grandeur" weren't so delusional, after all...
Okay, creepy moon flesh thing, I hate you less now.
Ooh, future adventure hook!
Everyone looks so done with Hooty about that.
So that thing's name is Jean-Luc, huh. Bet I won't see any TNG references in the fandom. Nope. Not at all.
"All out of kisses." Amity will be so disappointed...
So. Many. Questions.
Final thing to note: this means King is only 8-9 years old, which means that younger sibling energy he gives off with Luz is justified.
Well, that was a great episode! Emotions and lore galore! I'm eager to meet Mama Clawthorne next week! Then again, considering what people have speculated about her, maybe I shouldn't be?
At any rate, I'll be chiming in once again next week!
#the owl house#king of demons#toh king#luz noceda#eda clawthorne#lilith clawthorne#toh hooty#echoes of the past#toh s2 spoilers#the owl house s2 spoilers#the owl house season 2 spoilers#toh spoilers#the owl house spoilers
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Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH21
**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**
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Chapter 21: Star Death Reality Show (IV)
The first winner of the Best of the Day was He Yi.
With the results broadcasted, everyone looked at He Yi, and he looked a little surprised. He was very surprised by this result. He remembered that the invisible camera following him had been shooting him this whole time, so he smiled appropriately: "Thank you for your audience's love. Thank you very much."
He Yi's expression was very surprised, but Janet could only be more surprised than him. She fully thought that her performance yesterday should have been eye-catching, so why couldn’t she get the Best of the Day? Or had He Yi had some unexpected actions while he was alone... She looked at He Yi bitterly and couldn't help but say: "That's really great. Does Mr. He have any unique secrets to share?"
Before He Yi spoke, Xue Jiahui already defended him: "He Yi took care of us when he acted with us, being very gentlemanly, and I think the audience appreciated this very much."
"Oh, I see." Janet held her arm and put her elbow against Alex beside her. "It seems that you’re not enough of a gentleman, dear Alex."
Alex smiled reluctantly. Obviously, being buried by the goddess in his mind is a very bad thing for his self-esteem, and his expression when looking at He Yi was getting worse.
Seeing that this group of people were going to erupt, Dr. Lu couldn't help it: "I say, is now really the time to get tangled up on this? Take the time to look at Jing Siyu’s situation!"
The group of people had a rude awakening and rushed to show their worry, urging Jing Sixue to lead the way.
There’s enough absurd drama, Qi Leren thought. He had been observing the faces of this group of people just now and found nothing unusual. The only irony was that most people here cared more about this reality show than their companions' lives, meaning that the rescue operation at this time was like a self-promotion.
"I found a med kit when I was looking for supplies yesterday. If someone is injured, it should come in handy." Even the black man Mark, who had always been quite silent, showed himself in a timely manner.
Unfortunately, he just said a word and was immediately rebutted by Janet who turned on a "cockfighting" state: "Do you really want her to be hurt? Dear, this is too ungentlemanly."
Awesome, Qi Leren derided this woman in his heart while keeping a straight face. She could kill two people in one sentence. One was Mark just now, and the other is Xue Jiahui who had praised Gentleman He Yi before.
The group of people walked briskly in the snow, and Dr. Lu, who could trip on a flat road, was really afraid of the snow. He took Du Yue's arm carefully. Qi Leren watched him suddenly stumble and be picked up by Du Yue like a chicken, which made his mouth twitch.
"You should be careful," Qi Leren whispered.
Dr. Lu flattened his mouth and stretched out his empty left hand: "Then you can give me a hand."
Qi Leren sighed and was appointed to pull Dr. Lu's left hand. He and Du Yue held Dr. Lu, like a husband and wife holding their child, so as to avoid him falling over in the snow.
"Hey, He Yi actually got the Best for yesterday. Is it because he cooked well?" Dr. Lu winked at Qi Leren.
Qi Leren understood what he meant. The three of them had heard He Yi's question about the village at the end of the memories they reviewed. With his intuition, he was able to get the Best for yesterday, which was closely related to that remark.
If Qi Leren watched such a reality show as an audience member and knew what was going to happen here, he would naturally vote for the person who questioned it first.
When they reached Jing Siyu's house, it was quiet. Jing Sixue led them to a utility room, pointed to a heavy trap door on the ground and said, "This is it! My sister fell down there, but now the trap door is stuck and I can’t open it. I called my sister and she didn't respond to me..."
"I’m stronger, let me try," Alex volunteered, stepping out to try it confidently—the door did not move.
He tried again reluctantly, but it didn't work. Janet sneered rudely. "Come on, dear. To lift this trap door, you can't rely on the muscles trained in your gym."
Alex's face was red and white. He muttered something and pointed to Francis and Mark—perfectly avoiding Qi Leren and Dr. Lu who didn't look very strong, He Yi, and even Du Yue, who was big and muscular, was ignored and passed by: "Give me a hand."
Three people tried it together again, but the trap door still acted as if it was welded to the ground.
He Yi stepped forward, took out a flashlight, and said, "How did your sister fall in?"
Jing Sixue lowered his head and whispered, "I made a plan with her to go in there in the morning. I got up early and came to look for her. My sister has already gotten up, saying that she wanted to clean up, so I would help her. The two of us came to this room and she found a basement that she wanted to open. At that time, the trap door opened easily. I was a little scared and didn't dare to go down. She climbed down with a flashlight and saw something. Then, the bracket of the trap door suddenly loosened and the trap door closed. I heard her scream as if she had fallen to the ground, and then there was no sound."
"Bracket?" He Yi grabbed the keyword in her story and asked: "What kind of bracket was it?"
"The moveable bracket on a door that will automatically jam when the trap door is pulled up, so that it won’t close." Jing Sixue described it with lively gesticulations and worried again, "Why can't the door open? It was so easy before!"
He Yi thought, "Maybe it's stuck. Don't worry, we can find some tools to pry open the trap door. Annie, Mark said you found an axe yesterday but he didn't take it in exchange for supplies. He said you kept it. Can I borrow it now?"
Annie wasn't there when they had exchanged materials yesterday. Mark had said she didn't feel well and was resting in her room. Considering that most people present didn't like this religious fanatic very much, her unsociable behavior was praised.
Annie looked at He Yi. It was an uncomfortable look: "Well, if you need it, go ahead."
"Thank you, where is the axe?" He Yi asked.
"Mark, take him to go get it," Annie said lightly.
"Wait a minute, I'll go too," Qi Leren suddenly stood up.
"Ah, then I also..." Dr. Lu also stood up and pulled Du Yue with him.
"You can watch here, the three of us are enough," Qi Leren urged Dr. Lu and Du Yue to stay here and observe the situation. It wasn’t necessary to put all their eggs in one basket.
It was obvious that the basement door couldn't be opened by strength alone, and neither could the knives assigned by the program group be used. You had to split the trap door with an axe. One group of people would stay here and wait, while the other group would get this item. Qi Leren wanted to make sure that both sides had their own people so as not to miss any important plot points.
Qi Leren, He Yi, and Mark walked out of Jing Siyu's house and headed for Annie's house.
"Is Annie better?" Qi Leren took the time to ask Mark.
In yesterday's search for supplies, Mark was in a group with Annie, and only Mark knew Annie's situation.
"Not bad, she had a migraine. She said that it may be that it’s too cold here, so the blood vessels are tense and contracted. It’s much better now after sleeping for an afternoon and a night," Mark said.
"It seems that you also went to the west yesterday. Did you run into Lara and Francis?" He Yi freely asked.
"No, uh, no, actually I saw them, but we didn't say hello," Mark hesitated. "Annie doesn't like dealing with strangers."
"Are you familiar with Annie?" Qi Leren felt the intimacy between his words.
"Not bad, I’ve worked with her before," Mark said.
As he spoke, the three men came to Annie's house. Mark went in to get the axe, and Qi Leren and He Yi waited for him by the door.
"How did you sleep last night?" He Yi asked.
Qi Leren suddenly raised his head and abruptly met He Yi's deep gaze. He was a little afraid of this person and the details always made him have some fear associations, although he knew it was very unreasonable and it was completely a trauma of being bitten by a snake.
"Not bad." Qi Leren swallowed and stared at the metal exhaust pipe on the outer wall.
"I didn't sleep very well," He Yi said.
"Oh, yeah?" Qi Leren was very perfunctory. He didn't ask why! Don't just follow the routine!
He Yi frowned and said, "It's probably because of the unfamiliar bed. I had nightmares for a long time and I woke up in the middle of the night. I also got up and walked around. When I walked to the window, there was a snowstorm outside. I saw..."
Dong- A loud noise came from the room. Qi Leren and He Yi startled at the same time and suddenly looked into the building.
"Mark? What's going on?" Qi Leren asked loudly.
There was a dead silence.
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you said i should say less about new ace content in general and i immediately understood that as say more so please gimme some ace stuff and please make it fluffy. i don't particularly care about the pairing but i'm always down for lashton and/or malum but any atl ship works for me as well so like just do your thing i guess wow that was a useless sentence this messy ask is further proof that i should go to sleep so bye love you!! -fiancee
well i ran with ace lashton in an interesting way i hope you enjoy it this is not based on real life but maybe it could be. in a better world it is. that’s all i’ll say about that, i hope you like it
read here on ao3
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Luke likes going to the movies. He likes staying home and having a home-cooked meal. He likes quiet, simple, intimate activities.
He does not like parades.
“But it’s Pride,” Ashton wheedles. “D.C. Pride! One of the biggest pride events in the country!”
“You made that up, and I don’t care,” says Luke. “I don’t want to go. I don’t like parades.”
“It’s not really a parade.”
“Also not true.”
“Okay, but it’s not about the parade, it’s about the gathering,” Ashton says, gently shaking Luke. “It’s about a bunch of queer people all coming together and uniting in one space. Celebrating our differences and our similarities. Celebrating community.”
“That’s beautiful,” Luke says. Ashton looks hopeful. “Still no.”
Ashton huffs. “I don’t wanna go alone.”
“Go with Michael and Calum,” Luke suggests. “I’m sure they’d love for you to tag along.”
“And third-wheel all day? No thanks.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Luke says, and carries on setting the table for dinner. If his mum comes home to a half-set table, the blame will fall on Luke, of course. Ashton takes the cue and begins laying out plates.
It’s quiet for a moment. Luke can tell Ashton is trying to come up with a way to convince him to go to Pride, but it won’t work. Luke’s avoided Pride for seventeen years. He doesn’t intend to start now. Staying at home with his boyfriend and watching Rent is about as much as Luke cares to celebrate Pride Month. Maybe they’ll make out a little. Standards are low.
“Okay, how about this,” Ashton says, and Luke sighs deeply. “No, hear me out. And keep an open mind, okay? Think about compromise.”
“I’m listening.”
“What if we go before the parade starts?”
Luke frowns. “Then what would be the point?”
“There will still be people there,” Ashton says. “But it won’t be nearly as many people, and the festivities won’t really be happening yet, so we can still say we went to Pride but we won’t get caught up in the whole big thing.”
“But I thought you wanted the whole big thing.”
“Ah, whatever,” Ashton says, waving him off. “I’d rather go with you than see the parade alone.”
Luke feels bad. It’s obviously important to Ashton, or else he’d have given up already on trying to make Luke go. And as much as Luke knows he shouldn’t feel obliged to prioritize Ashton’s wishes over his own comfort, this makes him want to.
Compromise. “Okay,” Luke says. “Fine.”
Ashton blinks. “Really?”
“Did you think that wouldn’t work?”
“I—” Ashton’s face breaks into a smile. “I don’t know, not really, to be honest. Really? You’ll come?”
“Yes,” Luke says, and the delight in Ashton’s face makes up for the dread pooling in Luke’s stomach.
Ashton shuffles around the table and presses a warm kiss to Luke’s cheek. “Thank you,” he says, warmth also bleeding into his voice. “I’m excited. You’re gonna like it.”
Probably not, but Luke keeps that thought to himself. He doesn’t need to rain on any more of Ashton’s parades.
-
Luke and Ashton are excited about Dupont Circle for different reasons. Ashton is basically vibrating out of his seat on the Metro as they approach their stop, where the parade is slated to begin at half past noon. It’s only eleven now, but that doesn’t seem to matter to Ashton. He seems confident that there will be enough Pride to satisfy his excitement without overwhelming Luke.
Luke’s just looking forward to the Krispy Kreme at the station.
They take the escalator out, and sure enough, there’s Krispy Kreme to the left. Luke grabs Ashton’s hand and yanks him towards the shop.
“Seriously? We’re at D.C. Pride and your priority is donuts?” Ashton says, but he allows Luke to tug him along until they’re at the door.
Luke turns to him and very seriously says, “Ashton, my priority is always donuts.”
“Yeah, that’s fair, I walked into that one,” Ashton mutters as they enter the store.
Five minutes and two donuts later, both of them exit, Luke munching contentedly on a strawberry-frosted donut (with sprinkles, of course) and Ashton carefully biting into his jelly-filled one.
“Okay, starting now, we’re at Pride, and you can’t be a Negative Nancy,” Ashton declares.
“I promise not to be a Negative Nancy,” Luke vows. “I swear on this donut.”
Ashton beams. “Yay! Okay let’s go explore.”
You’d think this was Ashton’s first Pride for how excited he gets over everything. He stops at almost every stand, even though they’re all selling different versions of the same thing, and somehow manages to spark up conversation with any passing person who looks queer and interesting. Luke loves this about Ashton, how charming and outgoing he is, how he could befriend a vaguely human-shaped plant. People are drawn to him; Luke’s no exception. Ashton is very much the main character, even more so because he doesn’t seem to know it. He's just Ashton, and Luke loves him for it. Even when it means the halo of Ashton’s spotlight draws attention to Luke by extension.
Luke is not a charming, outgoing person. Luke is quiet and reserved. He’s never cared for the spotlight. Sometimes it’s a good thing that he has Ashton to pull him out of his shell a little. Sometimes he wilts under the scrutiny. It's a toss-up, but Luke appreciates that Ashton never stops trying.
Most of the tables selling merch boast shirts, hats, flags — the kind of thing you’d wear or own if you wanted to be loud and proud about your identity. Luke’s not really that kind of person. Luke’s way of coming out is to subtly slip into the conversation the fact that he has a boyfriend. Before he had a boyfriend, it pretty much never came up. Big, colorful flags have never been his cup of tea.
And anyway, that’s only half of his identity. The other half never comes up, and Luke’s okay with that. It’s not like being ace is the kind of thing you can casually mention. It has to be a whole thing, every time, and Luke doesn’t want to deal with the whole thing, so he just doesn’t bother. Most of the time it doesn’t really matter. As much as Luke is able to fly under the radar, that’s what he intends to do.
“Hey, pins!”
Ashton is not like that.
“Luke, you like pins, right?”
The table they’ve stopped at is covered end-to-end with pins. Enamel or plastic, every single pride flag Luke has ever seen in his life is represented here, in a variety of shapes and sizes. The kaleidoscopic display is fun to look at, at least. There’s nobody behind the table at the moment, which means in theory it would be pretty easy to steal one, but Luke’s not like that, and even if he was he wouldn’t feel good stealing a pride pin from a small-business owner.
“I don’t really have an opinion,” says Luke.
“Ha,” Ashton says. “O-pin-ion. Haha.”
“I’m leaving you,” Luke says, turning away with a wry grin.
“No, come back.” Ashton grabs his wrist and pulls him closer, so Luke wraps an arm around his waist and rests his head on Ashton’s shoulder instead. “I like pins. They’re a very understated way of coming out.”
“Having a boyfriend is an understated way of coming out,” Luke replies.
"I resent you calling me understated," Ashton says in faux-indignance. Luke giggles.
“I’m so sorry, I had to run and grab some water,” says a voice, as a person bustles around them to stand behind the table. Their pink fringe is pushed back by a bandana and they’re wearing a jean jacket with so many pins and patches that the fabric is practically invisible. A sticker on the front pocket of the jacket introduces them as Alex, he/they :). “Can I help you with anything?”
“Just admiring the collection,” Ashton says brightly. “I love your jacket.”
“Thank you very much,” says Alex. “It’s been accumulating pins for about five years now.”
“Damn,” Ashton says, wolf-whistling. “That’s a good collection. I don’t have a good jacket for pins.”
“Wish I could tell you where I got mine, but it was a gift from my boyfriend,” Alex says. “I’ve heard thrifting is a good way to go.”
“You wanna go thrifting, Luke?” Ashton says, nudging Luke, who shrugs.
“Sure,” he says. He reaches for one of the asexual flag pins, a small enamel rectangle, and smoothes his thumb over the surface. “These are pretty nice.”
“You should buy it,” Ashton says. “Start a cool jacket. Then we could be matching.”
“You don’t have a cool jacket yet.”
“I know, but we could.”
“But neither of us have a cool jacket. So it’s not even—”
“Fine, ruin my fun,” Ashton harrumphs. To Alex, who’s watching them with amusement, Ashton says, “So how long have you and your boyfriend been together?”
“Oh, uh…” Alex’s gaze diverts to the air like he’s counting invisible numbers. “Six years? Almost? I think it’s gonna be six years in July.”
“Six years,” Ashton repeats in mild awe. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah, high school sweethearts, blah blah blah,” Alex says, smiling. They shrug. “Everyone thought we’d break up when we went to college, but when you know, you know. You know?”
Luke swallows. Ashton says, “Good for you. That’s impressive.”
“I like to think so,” Alex says. “What about you? Are you guys together?” He winces. “Should I not have asked that? I’m sorry, to be honest this is Jack’s business, I’m just running the stand because he wanted to go look around a little before the parade started. My boyfriend Jack, I mean. Sorry.”
“No, no, it’s all good,” Ashton says. He hip-checks Luke gently, which Luke takes to mean something like is it cool if I tell him? It’s nice that Ashton is asking, but Luke had kind of figured everyone would assume they were together because, you know, Pride, so he doesn’t really care.
“Yeah,” he says. “For, what, eight months?”
“Eight months,” Ashton confirms.
Alex grins. “That’s great, I love it. What are your names?”
“Ashton,” says Ashton. “He/him.”
“Luke. Also he/him.”
“It’s nice to meet you guys,” Alex says. “I’m Alex. He/they.”
“Yeah, your thing says,” Luke says, pointing.
Alex laughs. “You’d be surprised how many people don’t see it. Or they see it and think it’s just another decorative pin.”
“Do people wear pronoun pins as decorations?” Luke wonders. “That seems strange to me.”
“People are ineffable,” Alex says solemnly. Then he grins. Luke likes Alex. In fact, little though Luke’s actually spoken today, he likes most of the people whom Ashton has stopped to chat up. Queer people are so friendly, is what Luke is learning. It almost makes him happy to be here.
Except now Alex’s words are ringing in Luke’s head, and he can’t stop hearing them. Everyone thought we’d break up when we went to college, but when you know, you know.
Ashton’s going to college this fall. Luke’s managed to forget about that fact because it’s only June, but that doesn’t make it any less true. Ashton’s leaving and Luke’s going to finish his senior year alone and what if something happens to them? What if they’re fooling themselves thinking they can do the long-distance thing? What if they’re doomed already and this summer is just prolonging the inevitable?
“Well, personally I would love to buy a pin,” Ashton says. “Luke, choose one.”
“What?” Luke says, blinking himself out of his spiral. “Why?”
“I’m buying you one,” Ashton says.
“I don’t—” Luke bites his lip. He’s still fidgeting with the ace flag pin, and he kind of likes it. Maybe he can subtly come out in different ways. Maybe he can just wear it, and wait for someone to ask. Then it’s way less of a big deal because it’s not like Luke has brought it up.
There’s enough shame in the world. Luke doesn’t need to add to it.
“Okay,” he says instead. He holds up the ace flag. “This one.”
“Great choice,” Ashton says, digging out a five to give to Alex. He hesitates, then pulls out a ten instead. “Actually, maybe I’ll also get one. Then we can actually match.”
“Right, with our matching jackets that don’t exist yet.”
“You know what, fine, we don’t have to match.” Ashton makes a face at Luke. “You can put your pin on whatever you want. It’ll go great with your all-black closet.”
“Shut up,” Luke grumbles. Ashton laughs.
“Hey, don’t knock the all-black,” Alex says. “Black is the new black. It’s fashion forward.”
“Not in eighty-degree June it’s not,” Ashton says.
“It’s seventy-five,” Luke protests. “And Alex is wearing a jacket!”
“Yes, but Alex is not my boyfriend, and we only just met,” Ashton says, grinning. “Also, their jacket is sick as fuck.”
“It is sick as fuck,” Alex agrees. “But I’m still siding with Luke here. You can’t go wrong with all-black.” For the first time, he seems to register Luke’s shirt, and his eyes light up. “Hey, Green Day! I fucking love Green Day!”
“You should be my best friend,” Luke says seriously, and Alex nods equally seriously.
“Hey,” Ashton complains. “I like Green Day.”
“Thank you for the pin,” Luke tells Alex. “Good luck with the, uh, you know, selling more of them.”
“Of course, anytime,” Alex says. “I’m pretty sure there’s a website on these business cards if you ever want to, I don’t know, browse?” They shrug one shoulder. “This is why I’m not a small business owner.”
“Cool,” Luke says, taking the card. He probably won’t use it, but you never know.
“Nice to meet you, Alex,” Ashton says, as he and Luke start to walk away, fingers interlaced between them. “Good luck! Happy Pride!”
“You too! Enjoy the parade!” Alex says, waving.
Luke doesn't bother to inform him they're not staying that long; he and Ashton turn away and continue walking, Luke with his new pin clutched in his fist.
“They were cool,” Ashton says enthusiastically. “There are so many fucking interesting people here. God, I love Pride.”
Luke grips the pin tighter. The pointy back starts to hurt where it’s pressing into his palm. “Yeah.”
“Thanks for letting me get you something,” Ashton says. “I know it’s not really your thing, but I don’t know. I felt like we should buy something after we stood there for so long.”
“No, yeah, I agree.”
“On the bright side, they’re pretty cool pins.” Ashton holds his out like he’s assessing what he’ll do with it. “Maybe Michael has an extra jean jacket he never wears. I could ask him.”
Luke hums. Ashton glances over at him, eyebrows drawn together. “Are you okay?”
Luke's not supposed to say anything like this. He’s supposed to be positive because he promised he wouldn’t be a “Negative Nancy” and the sky is so blue that Luke would hate to be the reason for rain, but if he doesn’t say it then it’ll just keep ringing around his head until he can’t think about anything else.
“You’re not scared we’re gonna break up when you go to college?” he blurts out.
Ashton stops short and their hands break apart so Luke’s falls to his side. “Where’d that come from?”
“You heard Alex,” Luke says. “Everyone thought he and his boyfriend would break up when they went to college.”
“But they didn’t,” Ashton says.
“But that’s obviously unusual,” Luke counters. He swallows hard. “I’m just saying…aren’t you worried?”
Ashton tilts his head. “Do you want me to be worried?”
And yeah, a little part of Luke does. Only because if Ashton’s worried, it means he values their relationship enough that it would hurt him to lose it. But Luke knows that’s not really fair, and he knows Ashton loves him, even if he doesn’t seem worried at all.
“No, I don’t know. I just— I don’t know.”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know,” Luke says again. “I had pretty successfully managed to avoid thinking about it, but now…I don’t know.”
Ashton gently pries open Luke’s fist and runs his thumb over the red imprint the pin has left. Sheepish, Luke puts the pin in his pocket. As soon as his hand is free again, Ashton takes it, holding both of Luke’s hands in both of his own.
“I’m not worried,” he says quietly. His eyes are so sincere and his hands are so soft and Luke loves him and likes him and knows that to lose him would be a fate worse than death. “You must have missed the other half of Alex’s sentence. Remember? When you know, you know.”
Luke’s breath catches a little. “Yeah, but…”
“But what?” Ashton lifts a shoulder. “I already know, Luke. I’m in it for the long haul. So unless you meet some other guy who’s even awesomer than me and makes better puns, you have nothing to worry about. I’m not letting you get away that easy.”
Luke gazes at Ashton until the rest of the world falls away. “Oh,” he breathes.
“Okay?” Ashton quirks a smile.
Luke surges forward and kisses Ashton for as long as he can manage without passing out. It’s clumsy and sweet and Ashton’s hands tighten around Luke’s waist and Luke wraps his arms around Ashton’s shoulders and nothing else in the known universe matters except this.
When they finally break apart, Luke cracks a smile. “Okay.”
Ashton beams. He offers his hand to Luke again, and this time Luke takes it and doesn’t let go.
#luke hemmings#ashton irwin#lashton#lashton fic#5sos#5sos fic#fic#my fic#idk when im gonna post this but at the time of drafting it i am So Fucking Tired#i cant imagine that will be less true when i finally post it lol#i feel like im constantly tired lmao#but right now its 1am and i wanted to be asleep or like getting ready to sleep like.......an hour ago#and then i made a cup of tea instead#it's july 23rd (it's july 22nd but it's past midnight so. 23rd)#and i want sleep!#after i save this post to my drafts tho im gonna go start getting ready for bed#maaaaaaaaaan im tired#night yall#oh i hope you like this fiancee it occurred to me while writing that its hard to write an Ace Fic unless its about the Being Ace#which is not something i care to write about#usually characters just........are ace#so this fic plot was borne (born?) of that dilemma#ask#anonymous#fiancee anon#ETA i just woke up twelve minutes ago but fiancee said now so you get this now
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New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era
By: Alex Suskind for Entertainment Weekly
Date: May 9th 2019
Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.
THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It was only an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.
As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).
“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”
It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.
Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”
Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.
The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.
This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”
Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”
At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”
The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”
She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”
The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.
“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes… Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.
You can read the original article HERE.
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New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era
Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.
Alex Suskind
May 09, 2019 at 12:00 PM EDT
Peggy Sirota for EW
THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It was only an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.
As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).
“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”
It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.
Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”
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Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.
The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.
This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”
Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”
At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”
The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”
She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”
The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.
“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes…. Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.
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Hiraeth
There’s writing that you have to do--as in, you’re obligated to do it--and then there’s writing that you need to do, as in, it’s just sitting there inside you, weighing you down, gnawing at the inner walls of your mind, needing to be expunged so you can do the writing that you have to do.
This is writing that I need to do so that I can get back to the writing that I have to do.
On a recent afternoon I got off BART at the stop near my home and there were Girl Scouts outside at a little table, selling cookies. In an instant an entire scenario played out in my head. I walked up to them, smiling, expressing enthusiasm about getting to buy some cookies, maybe making a comment about how much we all love Thin Mints, though I bet they hear that all the time. I bought a few boxes, wished them well, and went on my way. But none of this actually happened. Instead I just turned away and started walking toward my apartment. Reason being that I figured if I did, in actuality, approach them with the intent of buying cookies, the fact of my obvious transness might, perchance, have made one of the girls noticeably uncomfortable, or perhaps a parent of one of the girls, and I would pick up on this and then I would feel uncomfortable for having made them uncomfortable, and then the whole exchange would be tinged with awkwardness, and I’d just want to end it as quickly as possible to relieve their discomfort at me and my discomfort at their discomfort, and I’d walk away regretting that I’d put any of us through that. Of course I realize that there’s a chance that these particular young people and their present parents are perfectly comfortable around trans people, that there’d be no fleeting “How do I explain this to my daughter later?” flicker across a mother’s face, no girl hesitating awkwardly, caught in a moment of uncertainty about how to address me. But I can’t know for sure, and so even if I tried to approach the situation with the casual, carefree attitude that I wanted to, the fear of the possibility of things becoming awkward would be rattling around in me so loudly that I couldn’t hide it, and my fear of potential awkwardness would awkwardly poison the whole interaction regardless.
This happens all the time. This is how I live my life.
Last month, Bruno Ganz died. I love Wings of Desire, and his performance in it. Like his angel, Damiel, I sometimes feel like I’m observing life, but not really participating in it. I exist at a remove, wondering what real closeness and connection and participation in life are like. I know they can be wonderful.
“I wish I could see your face, just look into your eyes and tell you how good it is to be here...to smoke, have coffee, and if you do it together, it’s fantastic.”
The film punctures the lie that time heals all wounds. For many of us, the waiting and waiting and waiting is the wound.
Bruno Ganz was only a few years older than I am now when he made Wings of Desire. I don’t know why thoughts like that so often occur to me, but they do. I think maybe it’s because I’m so aware of time slipping away from me, time that I never get back, and I really want to start living before I die.
Today, and yesterday, and the day before that, I woke up starving for touch. Often the first thing I’m aware of when consciousness comes to me is a kind of ache in the body, like my skin is the frozen surface of a lake, and there’s warm water far, far below that could bring such relief, but it needs a warm touch on the surface to bring it floating up through the cold, to infuse my skin with life once again. This is one of the ways I am wounded by time.
Anyway, I want to tell you a story.
(Bionic Commando, NES)
It’s actually not about the person I met when I was young, though I wish it was. I’d have only very kind things to say about them, but to write about them would not be a kindness. And so, like so many stories that purport to be about someone else, this is actually a story about the person telling it, and the effect that the other person had on me.
Was I young many years ago, when this story I’m about to tell you happened? I don’t know. I mean, yes, I was, and I am. I’m very young. Young like Yorkie in San Junipero. Her body may be 60 or so, but she’s not really 60, because she’s experienced so little. In the virtual world of San Junipero, she has the freedom to be herself, a young woman looking to form connections and find love for the first time. Even there, her complete lack of experience surprises the woman she clicks with, but still, with Kelly she finds acceptance. She can let her walls down and be honest about who she is, what she’s missed out on her whole life, and what she needs now.
Now I’m physically 42 but really I’m no older than Yorkie. I go on dating sites like Bumble and I can’t help but be extremely aware that I’m very different from most of the queer women on there, not just because I’m trans, and visibly so (though that certainly significantly limits the pool of people who might want to even meet me for coffee), but because I’m so inexperienced, and so guarded, and so aware that it takes a special kind of person to make me feel safe, and able to be honest and real.
Of course, I have had long, close relationships before, but that was before I transitioned, and despite all my efforts to pretend otherwise, there was always a barrier between me and my partners, because those relationships were all predicated on a fiction, the role I tried so hard to play while gender dysphoria carved up my insides. I was profoundly uncomfortable with my body, and didn’t really inhabit it throughout all those years. It was as if my soul was hiding away, trying to make itself as small and as removed as possible from the anguish of reality, possibly curled up into a tight little ball in my left pinky toe, barely present in the real world, always seeking escape into books and songs and movies and video games.
Now I’m uncomfortable with my body for an entirely different reason: it seems to prevent people from seeing me for who I really am. I’m definitely in less pain having transitioned, and there’s a relief in living with the integrity of being honest with the world about who I am, but still, the world can’t see me clearly. I’m misgendered constantly, and because I know I’m not clearly seen by the world, fear factors into every decision I make. I’m never free of it. Do I dress the way I dress because this is how I want to dress, or do I dress the way I dress because I’m trying to make myself invisible, because I’m afraid of drawing potentially hostile attention to myself? I don’t know, and as long as fear remains present, I can’t know.
Whether or not it’s true, I feel as if I exist entirely outside the marketplace of desire as a queer woman, and that the only times people want me are when they see me as something I’m not. One woman I dated briefly repeatedly misgendered me and even admitted to me once that she fantasized about me being a man. One woman made a pass at me by saying that she saw me not as a woman or a man but just as a person. How can I be present in a relationship if I know that I’m being seen and desired expressly as things I feel like I’m not, and not as who I am?
Loneliness is hallmarked by an intense desire to bring the experience to a close; something which cannot be achieved by sheer willpower, or by simply getting out more, but only by developing intimate connections. This is far easier said than done, especially for people whose loneliness arises from a state of loss or exile or prejudice, who have reason to fear or mistrust as well as long for the society of others.
--Olivia Laing, The Lonely City
So. Let’s talk about Alex.
I’ve written about Alex before. I don’t know if i’ll write about Alex again. Some writers are fond of saying that all of us who write essentially write the same story again and again and again, but I’d like to have a new story to tell. I know Alex wants that for me too.
It was several years ago now that I met them. I was in a weird place at the time, having just gone through an intense defrost cycle on my heart. After focusing on transition and not giving much thought to relationships for many years, I’d had an encounter that made me painfully aware that finding love, closeness, and connection was supremely important to me.
There’s a great deal I can’t tell you about Alex that I wish I could tell you. What I can say is that they just had a particular kind of sincerity about them that put me at ease. Very few people can do that. I didn’t feel the anxiety around them that I feel around so many people. I didn’t mind just existing in silence with them. Time with most people drains my batteries. Time with Alex recharged them.
Alex did and still does things that I admire greatly, and I find them fascinating as a person, and I wanted more than anything to engage in the endless process of getting to know them. In the 1990 Hal Hartley movie Trust, a character asserts that respect, admiration and trust equal love. I don’t know if it’s as simple as that, but I do know that all those ingredients were there.
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I could tell that Alex knew what suffering was in their own way, and that they struggled sometimes, which is essential if I’m going to be able to relate to someone, but Alex wasn’t wounded in the same ways or the same places that I was wounded, which is also essential. If you put me next to someone who’s like me, there’s just a chasm between us. All we can do is spin our wheels. Alex was someone I could relate to and understand, and also learn from.
Anyway, it eventually came to pass that Alex knew how I felt, just as I knew that Alex would never see me the way I wanted them to see me. The circumstances of this dual revelation would make for a more symbolically fraught movie scene about the anguish of a lifetime spent feeling invisible than anything I could concoct in a work of fiction, but I won’t go into the particulars. Suffice it to say that the next night, Alex and I met, I guess in the hopes of clearing the air. We sat on Alex’s couch, and Alex put their arm around me.
I suppose that’s the sort of thing you might do if you grow up in a somewhat healthy family that teaches you that your love has value.
The effect it had on me was the feeling of years and years and years of ice melting away, warm water rushing to the surface, my skin and my soul awakened in a way they never had been before. I simultaneously wanted to kiss Alex and to fall asleep in their arms. I wanted to sit there talking and laughing quietly while letting phrases like “I love you” slip out of my mouth, and I wanted to cry, to let loose all the grief that I’d carried around with me for so long and had never been able to share with anyone. I actually did laugh at the sheer wild luck of it all, of finding myself in that moment, and I laughed, too, at the wonderful surprise of discovering, after spending all my life in moments that I couldn’t fully inhabit, that really being there, right there with Alex, was the easiest thing in the world.
If I died tomorrow, and it turned out that, like in Hirokazu Koreeda’s film After Life, I had to choose just one memory to take with me, that would be it, the time I spent in Alex’s arms that night.
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When I left, it felt as if the whole world was vibrating. That’s not an exaggeration or some kind of metaphor. I mean that it felt to me as if everything was humming, as if all of existence had become charged with life, or perhaps as if all of existence were always charged with life, and for the first time I could see and feel it, because for the first time I was part of it.
Maybe this is what Sam meant in Gone Home when she said she felt like a shook-up can of soda. Maybe almost everyone experiences something like this when they’re young, and they learn that they can be loved. But I still haven’t learned that. I’m still waiting for my first mutual experience of it. I don’t expect love to mean undergoing a massive spiritual experience every time the person I love touches me. Not at all. I want to get to a point where being held by someone I really like doesn’t feel like winning the goddamn lottery. But when you’ve waited for it for as long as I have, it’s powerful, when it finally happens. I don’t expect love to be grandiose. For the most part, my time with Alex wasn’t grandiose. It was low-key friendly get-togethers, conversations over drinks at bars, playing games together, or just working quietly on our own things in the same place at the same time. That was all it had to be.
Of course, I knew even as I was sitting there with Alex, being brought to life by their warmth and their presence and their touch, that they didn’t mean for it to affect me so profoundly. They were just trying to comfort me, their friend, in the hopes that it might be easier for me to let go, to move on, to just be friends. The next day they texted me and asked me if I was feeling better. What could I say? That the night before had changed my life, that it was the most incredible thing I’d ever experienced and that I was, if anything, more full of yearning than ever before, that all I wanted was to hold them and be held by them?
I said that yes, I was feeling better, and left it at that. That was years ago now, and in all the time since, I haven’t met anyone else yet who has felt like a chance to me the way Alex did.
Sometimes some of my friends say that monogamy is bullshit. The people who say this around me, though, are always attractive people for whom love and affection and touch are widely available around the city in or the planet on which they live. When people ask me if I’m poly (as they occasionally do, I suppose because I’m a queer-identified woman living in the San Francisco Bay Area), all I can do is laugh. I can’t even find one person I like and who likes me who I want to know deeply, with whom I feel safe, with whom I can be vulnerable, with whom I can take my time to form a bond of closeness and trust. If my life were completely different, if the world taught me to move with confidence rather than fear, if the world taught me that I was seen rather than invisible, would I be poly then? I can never know the answer to that. We are all shaped by our experiences within the world, the messages the world sends us about ourselves, and if the world sent me different messages about myself, I’d be a different person. But I do resent the attitude among some that polyamory is inherently more enlightened or radical than monogamy. I think that in this world, where people so often use other people and then dispose of them, there’s something radical about ordinary devotion to one person, between two people who know each other deeply, trust each other completely, have seen each other at their worst, and still support and rely on each other.
The other question I get, I guess because of my lack of experience, is whether I might be asexual. But I’m not. When things are firing on all cylinders, I’m definitely sexual. But I really need to feel safe and seen with someone, seen and desired as the woman I am, and the world doesn’t make me feel that way, so it takes time for me to feel that way with an individual. Over and over again on the dance floors of life, I see people seeing each other, desiring each other and being desired, and I feel invisible, and I’m still dancing on my own.
Alex felt like home. I’m still looking for home. Not the exact same kind of home that Alex felt like. Everyone’s love makes a different kind of home. Just a home, one where I feel safe and seen, with someone I trust and respect and admire and can learn from and have fun with and be myself with, a home where I’m inclined to let down the walls that I have spent so long building up. In a world where everything about my life is complicated, feeling the way I did about Alex was the simplest, easiest thing.
I know it doesn’t stay that way, but it seems to me like a good place to start.
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Peggy Sirota for EW
New Reputation: Taylor Swift shares intel on TS7, fan theories, and her next era
Snakes begone. The 29-year-old superstar is back with a new album and a new outlook on life. We go inside the pop monarch's latest chapter.
By Alex Suskind
May 09, 2019
THE PALM TREES ARRIVED IN FEBRUARY, seven in all, set against a pastel blue backdrop with superimposed stars. It appeared that a new Taylor Swift era was upon us — that the old happy-go-lucky Taylor was not, in fact, dead. Or did it? It wasonly an Instagram photo, just one more picture in an infinite content scroll. But it also came from a pop star known for prodigious hint-dropping, whose fans turn every piece of info into an online archaeological dig.
As expected, the summery post sent Swifties sifting through each detail with a fine-tooth comb. What did the trees symbolize? An overdue vacation? A recently purchased beach house? A secret palm-frond collection? Or maybe, as many surmised, it was new music. One Twitter user predicted that the number of stars in the background of the photo hinted at a single drop: “There’s about 60/61 [stars]️. There’s 61 days until April 26, FRIDAY, a SINGLE RELEASE day!” Another said it was the unofficial announcement of her next LP: “Okay so in this picture there are 4 palm trees on the left (4 country albums). There are two palm trees on the right (2 pop albums). There is one large palm tree in the middle. This represents her new album.” These may sound like ludicrous conspiracy theories — for the record, they were mostly correct — but they fit firmly within the Taylor Swift Musical Universe (it’s like the Marvel Cinematic Universe but with more guitars and fewer Stan Lee cameos).
“I posted that the day that I finished the seventh album,” says Swift about the photo. “I couldn’t expect [my fans] to know that. I figured they’d figure it out later, but a lot of their theories were actually correct. Those Easter eggs were just trying to establish that tone, which I foreshadowed ages ago in a Spotify vertical video for ‘Delicate’ by painting my nails those [pastel] colors.”
It’s now April, and the 29-year-old pop star is in a Los Angeles photo studio, giving her first sit-down magazine interview in three years. She wants to discuss the art of placing hints inside her work, as well as the upcoming record, which she recorded as soon as she finished the Reputation Tour. She’s also keen on detailing her own obsessions, talking up the TV shows, books, and songs that help shape her outlook on life.
Over the past 13 years, Swift has perfected the pop culture feedback loop: She shares updates about her life and drops hints about new music, which fans then gobble up and re-promote with their own theories, which Swift then re-shares on her Tumblr or incorporates into future clues. It’s like a T-Swift-built Escher staircase of personal memories and moments that tease what’s next. “I’ve trained them to be that way,” she says of her fans’ astute detective work. Swift is a pop culture fanatic herself (see: the jean jacket she’s wearing on the EW cover) and has an innate understanding of the lengths her audience will go to be a part of the original creation. “I love that they like the cryptic hint-dropping. Because as long as they like it, I’ll keep doing it. It’s fun. It feels mischievous and playful.”
Through this approach, Swift has designed the ultimate artistic scavenger hunt — and it’s easy to get swept up in its drama, even if you don’t listen to her music. Her moments aren’t always hidden, either. Sometimes Swift highlights aspects of her world just so fans feel like they’re on the journey with her. Like the time in March 2018 when pop singer Hayley Kiyoko was accused of shading Swift after mentioning her name during an interview. On Tumblr, Swift re-shared a fan’s post, adding commentary that defended Kiyoko, which immediately dispelled any conflicts between the two artists; Swift’s post subsequently received more than 29,000 notes. Four months later, she invited Kiyoko on stage during the Reputation Tour to sing her hit “Curious.” Kiyoko returned the favor when she had Swift join her that December at a benefit on behalf of the LGBTQ organization the Ally Coalition to perform “Delicate.” Fans of both artists were elated by the mutual support.
The feedback loop also extends outside of music. In October 2018, Swift broke her silence about politics by publicly endorsing two candidates for office in her adopted state of Tennessee, while encouraging her followers to register to vote. She kept up the civic momentum through Election Day when she asked fans to post selfies after voting; Swift then eagerly re-promoted her favorites on Instagram stories.
This practice of sharing and re-sharing and sharing again is why listeners consider Swift one of the world’s most accessible pop stars, someone willing to not only interact with her audience but invite them to secret listening sessions, or make the occasional surprise visit to their wedding or prom. It’s a symbiotic relationship, one that, as Swift tells EW, helped her dig out of the darker era of reputation. “It’s definitely the fans that made that tonal shift in the way I was feeling,” she says. “Songwriters need to communicate, and part of communicating correctly is when you put out a message that is understood the way you meant it. reputation was interesting because I’d never before had an album that wasn’t fully understood until it was seen live. When it first came out everyone thought it was just going to be angry; upon listening to the whole thing they realized it’s actually about love and friendship, and finding out what your priorities are.”
Then, during the Reputation Tour, she had an epiphany: that despite the caricature that she thought had been created of her, there were many people who saw what others had simply refused to. “I would look out into the audience and I’d see these amazing, thoughtful, caring, wonderful, empathetic people,” she says. “So often with our takedown culture, talking s— about a celebrity is basically the same as talking s— about the new iPhone. So when I go and I meet fans, I see that they actually see me as a flesh-and-blood human being. That — as contrived as it may sound — changed [me] completely, assigning humanity to my life.”
At tour’s end, she channeled that positive energy into the studio, recording the new album in just under three months. But the fast pace won’t mean a short LP. Swift confirmed that her seventh record (she hasn’t announced a title yet; the working nickname among fans is TS7) will include more songs than any of her previous releases. “I try not to go into making an album with any expectation,” she says. “I started to write so much that I knew immediately it would probably be bigger.”
The project will also feature a mix of old and new collaborators (on the candy-coated lead single “ME!” Swift brought in Panic! At the Disco frontman Brendon Urie and coproducer Joel Little, both of whom she had never worked with), but she is unsurprisingly coy about doling out much more information, as if doing so would break the carefully honed T-Swiftian feedback loop. “There’s a lot of a lot on this album,” she says. “I’m trying to convey an emotional spectrum. I definitely don’t wanna have too much of one thing…. You get some joyful songs and you get the bops, as they say.” There’s also, she adds, some “really, really, really, really sad songs,” but “not enough to where you need to worry about me.”
She gives us one more clue: The true distinction between TS7 and reputation is in the delivery. “This time around I feel more comfortable being brave enough to be vulnerable, because my fans are brave enough to be vulnerable with me. Once people delve into the album, it’ll become pretty clear that that’s more of the fingerprint of this — that it’s much more of a singer-songwriter, personal journey than the last one.”
The past month has seen a deluge of Swift activity, from the release of the new single to dropping more hints in interviews about the record and its title, which is apparently hidden somewhere inside the “ME!” music video (current fan guesses include Kaleidoscope and Daisy). But if the Easter eggs from the pop star seem like a business-as-usual routine, she says this album does indeed mark a new era of her life, where she’s been better able to prioritize what’s important to her.
“Our priorities can get messed up existing in a society that puts a currency on curating the way people see your life,” she says. “Social media has given people a way to express their art. I use it to connect with fans. But on the downside you feel like there are 3 trillion new invisible hoops that you have to jump through, and you feel like you’ll never be able to jump through them all correctly. I — along with a lot of my friends and fans — am trying to figure out how to navigate living my life and not just curating what I want people to think living my life is. I’m not always able to maintain a balance, and I think that’s important for everyone to know about. We’re always learning, and that’s something that I also had to learn — that I’ve got to be brave enough to learn. Learning in public is so humiliating sometimes…. Do I feel more balanced in my life than I ever have before? Um, probably yeah. But is that permanent? No. And I think being okay with that has put me in a bit of a better position.” Strong words to live by, to quote, to re-share, to tweet back to her, and see if she’ll respond.
Entertainment Weekly
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the playlist.
Everything seems to go by so fast. It was as if yesterday I was just a fetus and now, I am turning eighteen in five days. It was as if I was just being bullied by my older brother and now, we don’t even see each other often. Sadly, it was also as if yesterday I was still cuddling with the man that I love the most, and now he’s on someone else’s arms.
Gabriel Marion Castro, Gabe for short, the dead kid, the quiet guy, the invisible one, and for some reason, I fell in love with him. No, he isn’t the typical jock you would think because of his name, nor the top student in Science class because of his glasses and how smart-looking he is, nor is he the instrumentally-inclined famous guy that everyone is crushing on. He’s just simple, really, going to school for the sake of doing so, following rules for the sake of doing so, and a lot more.
And I, Skylar Rowan Joey, is also another nobody. No, I am not a cheerleader, nor the UN Model representative sent to different countries, nor am I the principal’s secretary who lists all the tardy students every morning. Just like Gabe, I do things because I was told to do so, or because it was necessary.
Decluttering for me, is the worst type of house chore. It’s like letting go of the most important thing knowing that it has no use anymore, but the sentimental value that you put into it is what’s making you hold on to it. Thank God for music, right? I mean, music makes everything a little bit better.
As I was going through my drawer, everything flashed back. I saw the polaroid films, the love letters that Gabe gave me, the material gifts that came with the letters, and a lot more that reminded me of him. The mementos in the drawer refer to each and every memory I have of him, may it be a good one or not.
“You’re giving me a million reasons to let you go.”
Oh wow, the melancholic vibe of Lady Gaga. Yes, he did. He gave a million reasons to let him go, to just drop everything we ever had, to leave him and all the memories behind. Funny, because despite everything, I chose to stay. I stayed for one reason, and it was him. He was a mixture of all the pet peeves I had. I stayed, not because he asked me to do so, but because I couldn’t bear the fact of leaving him. They said that it hurts more to hold on, but I thought that it hurt more to just let go, knowing that I still have one reason to stay.
I got all the polaroid films and put them in to the trash can. We’re done anyway, and I don’t see the point of still keeping mementos of him in this home. Although, he’s not really easy to forget.
“Little do you know how I’m breaking while you fall asleep.”
Look at Alex and Sierra singing the words that I can’t say, the words that I’ve been keeping to myself for so long. Little does Gabe know how much I cried because of him – both of negative and positive reasons. He was always sweet, always pampered me even if I didn’t ask him to do so. He always gave me the attention I craved for and the love I’ve been longing. But he also broke and wrecked me, shattering me into a million pieces. To be broken is an understatement, it was much more. I guess it was wrong to make someone your world, when you’re just one of their stars.
Little does Gabe know how I knew about all his mistakes, and how I chose to forgive him despite him not even asking for forgiveness. Little does he know how much courage and strength I needed just to be whole again. Little does he know, how much I wanted to give up, knowing that I don’t deserve any of this pain.
“Everyday I let go just a little bit more.”
Gabe taught me pain, but LANY taught me how to love myself more. Letting Gabe go hurt, but it made things seem clearer and everything got easier. Although it was hard, it taught me that I should never let my relationship be my identity, and I could never give love to someone else if I don’t love myself enough. As the song continues, “In the end I’m gonna be alright, but it might take a hundred sleepless nights to make the memories of you disappear, but right now I can’t see nothing through these tears.”
I know, that I’m going to be alright because moving on is a process, and I am still a work in progress. I have to build myself first before I commit. Sadly, a hundred sleepless nights will never make my memories with Gabe disappear. He is and will always be a part of me, no matter what happens. The only thing that I have to do now to prevent from hurting myself again from my feelings is to transfer my love for him to the things that I am passionate about.
I got all his love letters and read them again, for the last time. Throwing these letters would hurt, but keeping them would hinder me from growing and moving on. It’s nice to know that I was able to experience these things, the love, the care, but it’s also sad that Gabe and I went through a lot just to become strangers again.
“You could break my heart in two, but when it heals it beats for you.”
Sometimes, I’d think that Selena Gomez and I are twins, or someone who’s having the same fate. Or maybe not as well? I don’t know. She and Justin were the cutest couple I ever supported. But just like my relationship with Gabe, not all things have a happy ending. Sometimes, it’s already the end even if it’s not happy.
As I put everything inside the trash, his love letters for me, the polaroid films we took together, I decided to keep the huge material gifts. Not that I wanted a memory of him, but this could be used by others. His shirt could be worn by my brother, the stuff toys he gave me could be enjoyed by my younger sister, and a lot more.
Busy decluttering and cleaning, my brother popped his head on the door and said, “Someone’s waiting for you downstairs.”
Confused, I stopped playing the music, closed the drawer and went out. I tied my hair while going down the stairs and went to the living room.
And there he is, Gabriel, holding a huge bouquet of sunflowers.
“Why are you here?”, I asked.
“I want to talk to you.”, he replied.
Even without context, everything I was about to throw away that concerns him, went back. These nasty feelings came rushing and gushing through my veins, conquering my whole body and soul.
I haven’t even started the game of moving on and yet I already lost.
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These screenshots were taken exactly a year apart.
I didn’t make any changes to my desktop to post the second picture, this is exactly what it has looked like for months now (it just appeared black one day and I haven’t bothered changing it).
March 16 will always be a bittersweet day for me from now on. It brings back so many good memories, yet it reminds me how they were all for nothing. I feel played. I feel like a fool for feeling euphoric because of something that turned out to be nothing but a sick bait.
It feels like only yesterday that I was watching Jackson unlock the door of his hotel room, then gradually walking towards April, giving her that long lost look only reserved for her. I had recognized the look yet I hadn’t given much thought to it, because after that 45-minute long interview for JTS I was convinced that nothing romantic was about to escalate between Jackson and April - at least not in 13x16.
When he came close to her, I remember thinking to myself “Oh! Great, another Japril hug!” and I was so damn happy to get it, that I didn’t even question it when he leaned down towards her. Height difference, right? He had to bend a bit to hug her.
I only understood he was kissing her when the shot changed to their freaking mouths smashed together, and still for a moment I didn’t react -because I was so scared that I would wake up if I did. But then the scene changed and they were cuddling in bed, and that was when I allowed myself to actually feel.
I remember my actions very vividly. I first paused the episode. I placed the laptop carefully on the edge of my bed. Then I crawled backwards to the other edge, I wrapped my arms around my body, pressed my forehead against the side-wall and I cried.
The tears were streaming down endlessly, and my face was all wrinkled up, my nose red, my eyes puffy, and I remember I was struggling so, so hard to not make a sound because it was 4am and my family was asleep in their rooms, but I was still whisper-screaming to myself “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD.”
After years of drama, hurt and angst, it had finally happened. I honestly had sort of lost hope for them (at least romantically) by that point, and I was not expecting to ever see this come to reality. But there I had it. Another Japril kiss. A Japril morning-after scene. A Japril reunion. Japril had just kissed and made love before my bare eyes. Japril had gotten back together.
I was... beyond ecstatic. Beyond thrilled, beyond euphoric... I can’t even describe how strong the feeling of pure happiness was, but I remember it so well. I can still feel it bubbling inside my chest if I try. And I don’t think I will ever be able to forget it, honestly.
Maybe to some it was only a bait, a way to earn more numbers. But to me, March 16th, 2017 held one of the happiest memories of my life.
And you know what?
I’m not regretting JTS. I’m not sad that Montana happened.
If only for the shake of what it made me feel, of the purpose and hope it gave me to go through the hardest year of my life. Montana meant so much more to me than some random reunion of a random couple in a random show.
And I will not let any Kristas or Shondas take it from me. I won’t let them ruin it, turn it into ‘casual sex’ and have it mean nothing. Any universe that has Jackson and April sleeping together and brushes it off as meaning nothing is dead to me, and if that’s canon then so be it. Besides, what is canon? It’s fiction, just like the one we can write, only authorized. Yeah, big deal. We know Japril way better than the writers do, and we have way better writers among us to let those write Japril’s story for us. We can do it ourselves. We will do it ourselves.
And as for Montana... Montana is what we chose to make it. It means what we chose to have it mean, and we will remember it the way we chose to remember it. I know some of you chose to erase it completely from your memories - that is totally fair. I know others can only think back to it as a bait, and can’t help but feel bitter about it. That’s totally understandable too. I am bitter myself! So damn bitter, and so disappointed by the show and the writers and the freaking universe for not giving Japril the happy ending they deserve.
I just... I choose to not focus on that. I choose to think back to this day last year and feel the joy, keep it in my heart, hold it tight and cherish it - forever and always. And I choose to not let anyone take it away from me.
I choose to remember Montana the way I did the night it happened.
[A post I made on March 16th, 2017:]
They knew this whole time, guys. They both knew it. There wasn’t a moment when either of them was like “what are we doing, we are divorced, this is wrong”. They both knew this was inevitable. They knew it was mint to be. They had both felt everything shift during that surgery, they knew that those looks they had shared spoke louder than words, but now that it was just the two of them walking down that hallway was when the weight of this actually hit them.
Notice the way they walked towards each other in that scene? At first slowly and supposedly “casually” and “nonchalantly”, as they were kind of testing each other, checking how the other would respond to the actual closeness. And when they both reacted to it the same way, was when he finally crossed that invisible line they had drawn and came too close.
And only when he saw her respond to him well, when he came too close and she accepted it, only then did he finally drop every casualty and gave her that “Love Look” of his that has the power to melt fucking icebergs. Only then did he smile in relief, in excitement. In happiness.
He realized how proud he was of her being the incredible person she had shown him she was today, how grateful he was that she was there, still his person. He shook his head, thinking about how ridiculous he had been for ever forgetting that, how ridiculous they had both been, hiding and dismissing their feelings out of stubbornness or cowardliness.
And he saw it in her eyes, he saw she felt it too. After all this fighting, after all these years off being in opposite sides, they were finally on the exact same page. They both felt strongly about each other, and they had been for a while. And now they had just admitted that to each other, in their own special way, in a way that didn’t even take a single word. And yet, there they were, both feeling the same things and both being open about them and smiling to each other.
They both knew at that point what was going to happen. They knew it pretty damn well. But someone had to make the first move, and being the one to have ended the previous chapter in their story, Jackson also had to be the one to start this next one.
“I’m just thinking about our track record in hotels.” His line brought back all their memories from that first night in San Fransisco, to their pre-wedding night in that little motel in Lake Tahoe. He brought back all their history, he acknowledged it, he showed he never forgot a thing that happened between them. He brought back the past, suggesting a future.
And she straightened her body, rose up to him in a challenge. “What about it?” She asked, daring him to make the move, to take a chance, to love her again.
And he didn’t hesitate. He just leaned down and kissed her.
********
So with that cleared out... doesn’t this make you want to know what happens next?
Oooooh their plane just landed to Seattle. Do you think Catherine will figure them out? God she's gonna give them hell if she does! Remember the first time? Lololololol
And do you think they will keep it a secret from the others at the hospital? Just until they make sure they are on the same page again? That they're all in?
Omg Arizona will be like "You are kidding me. Tell me you are joking.... APRIL stop smiling like that! Holy crap! You are divorced, hell knows Callie hated me after the divorce, she wouldn't even talking to me and you too are having SEX?! ... Don't look at me like that. Now GIVE ME ALL THE DETAILS."
And Alex... "What the hell. Ha! I knew it. You've been banging each other with your eyes a year now, same difference. ....what? Oh come on, apes, we all knew you were 'mint to be' or whatever sappy crap you've been calling it, it was about damn time. Where the heck is Avery? I wanna congratulate him. It took him a fucking while."
And harriet.... *Glares at Jackson's hand on April's shoulder* "Aye!" (=Mine!)
Yup. Them coming back from Montana will be SO MUCH FUN! I can't wait to see what's going to happen on the rest of season 13.
This is how I choose to cope with this, shut up guys! Don’t laugh! XD
Also - HM. I have a fanfiction written about this. I should post it -about damn time.
And.... I just changed my desktop’s background.
#japril#jts#montana#jackson avery#april kepner#grey's anatomy#greys anatomy#jackson and april#april and jackson#japril the sequel#13x16#HAPPY JTS ANNIVERSARY!
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Breaking Furnace - Solitary Chapter 5
Chapter 5: New Territory
Table of contents!
All of my writing!
The summer is almost over, life is getting better. There’ll be at least two more chapters in this section of Breaking Furnace, at most four. Then we’ll be in another In-Between Collection.
Hopefully by next week you won’t have to see or hear me moaning about money or housing or anything like that. I’ll open requests back up as soon as I have all of that figured out and taken care of.
(I’ve had to change quite a bit of formatting to post this on tumblr. If you want to read this chapter with its original formatting, you can do so HERE.)
Remember that this is a daydream taking place in the Escape From Furnace universe, so keep that in mind if you haven’t read EFF.
Word count: 3503
Content warnings for this chapter:
A single dead body
Feel free to message me if I’m missing any.
The next chapter will be up on August 31st at 7pm PST.
If you like what I do here, maybe consider buying me a Ko-fi or checking out my Patreon! I love being able to put so much out for free, but this would be a great way to show support and also see cool new content!
“You don’t even know that.”
“Only because you don’t.”
I squint at Jay. They’re just a hallucination, but I don’t have much else to do. If the only distraction I have is a passive-aggressive advice trade with a mental representation of one of my friends, who am I to argue?
“At least you’re self aware about that.” I lean back against the wall. “Better than you trying to convince me you’re really here.”
“If I was really mean, I’d be trying to tell you we never left the memories.” They rock closer on their heels, the corners of their lips lifted in a rare smile. “But I think you have enough problems as it is.”
“Can we not do the ‘this is Connor’s fault now and forever’ thing?”
“We both know it isn’t your fault.”
Isn’t it?
They shake their head and shrink into a miniscule version of themself. They sit in some invisible chair and fix me with a glare I’ve only really seen once. When they kicked me out of their lab a couple months ago, they seared it into my retinas.
“We can run around and assign blame to you, or to Kevin, Monty, Cross, this Virtuoso character, but that doesn’t change the truth.”
Don’t say it.
“This is Sawyer’s fault.”
I knock my head back into the wall in an attempt to make them shatter out of existence, but they just shift so I can still see them. They shake their head and the pity in their eyes makes it worse. I don’t want the sympathy of a hallucination of a mad scientist.
“The real Jay would make you regret thinking that,” they note. “But you know I’m right. I don’t know if the real me thinks so, but everything we’re doing now is to mitigate Sawyer’s boredom.”
“That’s not true!” I swipe at the specter, but my hand passes right through. “They don’t always have control of these things.”
“Says who?”
I grit my teeth. They wouldn’t lie to me about that. They wouldn’t purposely put themself through scenarios that make their real life even harder to cope with. They wouldn’t do these things to us on purpose.
“They know what makes a good story,” Jay says tartly. “And whether they know it or not, they have to decide for something to happen. If they really wanted this to end, the real version of them, the one on the outside, could make that happen.”
“Shut up.”
“I can’t believe we all thought they were the one with an unhealthy dependence on you! You won’t even tell your friends that Sawyer was trying to trick Cross. Did you finally realize it’s more likely they tricked you so you would cover for them?”
I cover my ears, but it does nothing to drown them out. If anything, they grow louder.
“You were so willing to just fade out of existence in the memories. For what? A little kid that can’t see when they’re hurting their best friends?”
“I’m not playing around, shut your goddamn mouth.”
They do. That, more than anything, derails the panic they were starting up. These things don’t normally listen, so I pull my hands from my ears.
“I’m just telling you what you already believe.”
“You’re telling me what I know the real you thinks,” I say firmly. “But I also know you would let yourself die before you actually did anything to hurt them.”
They sigh.
“You might be right.” They morph back into a normal size to touch the side of my face. I can’t feel it, and I wonder if that’s how Sawyer feels when the rest of us try to comfort them. Nothing. “That might be an instinct programmed into most of us.”
“Are you really gonna keep going with the conspiracy theories? It’s getting kind of tired by now.”
“What do you expect?” They straighten up and my heart drops when they begin to fade. “It’s common knowledge that I don’t really trust anyone.”
“Do you have to go?”
They shrug.
“If you were actually paying attention to your passive awareness, you would have told me to leave.”
They disappear with an inaudible pop when I tilt my head to listen outside of the isolated cell. It takes a second to actually make sense of what the two blacksuits above the solitary cells are talking about.
“You’re sure they won’t be back?”
“Cross has them training across the compound. Besides, the next attack on the North Door is supposed to come today.”
“I guess someone has to have the whole schedule memorized. How long will that give us?”
“If they take the bait and go to the attack, five hours, easy. If not, we’ll be lucky for two.”
“Let’s not waste more time, then.”
Gears grind and I shade my eyes when the cell flips open. Two half-moon grins block out most of the light, but it still burns my retinas. I let my head fall back against the wall.
“You here to help me or kill me?”
“What do you think?” One reaches into the cell and the other disappears from sight. It only takes a few minutes for the suits to get all three of us out of our cells and get us up to speed.
Sawyer is unquestioningly on Cross’s side right now. They’ve gone through a curiously dramatic transformation and as far as they know we’re the enemy. We’re on the right time schedule, but with recent developments our loyal blacksuits see no reason to drag on a process that we could get out of the way now.
They don’t take any of our questions. Before they leave us to our own devices, they impress on us that we don’t have much time. We could go get Simon and get the hell out of here while everyone’s distracted.
We could get out.
That knowledge overrides everything I know about how this game works. We could get out of this damn prison and see the sun today. We could just.
Go.
I watch the blacksuits march down the hall, then turn the opposite direction and start walking. We might as well check the Steeple if we’re going all the way out there.
“It still feels wrong to trust blacksuits,” Alex says, close to my right.
Zee crowds in on my other side. “You do trust them, right?”
I keep my eyes ahead and only falter for a second when I catch sight of the red light of the infirmary not far away. It’s such a stupid thing to give me pause. It’s just a color.
I push my awareness out to check for wheezers, and am pleasantly surprised to find one already dead in one of the cubicles. God bless the Scouts and their habit of closing loose ends before they even become a problem.
“Connor?” Zee tries again.
“Yeah.” I shake the thought off and push through the flaps into the infirmary. The light seeps through my pores, bathing everything in a bloody tinge. I try not to look to closely at anything. “Go ahead and gather whatever crap we need to climb. I’ll get the others.”
They disappear further down with a nod. Before I actually start looking, I lift two scalpels from a medical tray nearby. Kevin and Donovan should still be bound by leather straps with how early in the game we are.
Besides, I have to make sure the blacksuits actually made it look like one of us killed the wheezer. Even if Cross knows exactly which of his suits are on our side, I doubt they need more blame pointed at them.
With shaking hands and resolve, I pull back the first of the curtains surrounding the beds. A handful of them are empty, but most hold sleeping inmates. Soon-to-be blacksuits.
Specimens.
I find the wheezer before either of my friends. It stares up from its resting place on the floor, though it can’t see anymore. Its gas mask, previously stapled to its face, sits several feet away next to the air tank attached to it.
That would definitely do it. The wheezers can’t process oxygen.
For good measure, I kneel beside it and drive one of the scalpels through its raisin of an eye. Rotten nectar oozes around the silver of the blade. That might convince Cross that this was all us.
After that, it only takes another couple beds to find Donovan. He’s unconscious, but as far as I can tell he hasn’t been operated on. If he had, I would have to leave him here.
I stare at the traces of blue in the IV at his bedside, and wonder again what Cross could have made. I don’t see how it could get worse than the red stuff. An unknown variable in his arsenal is definitely bad news.
Whatever it is, Donovan jerks awake with a low groan when I slip the catheter out of his arm.
On second thought, I’m not sure if I would really call it ‘awake.’
His eyes roll back, the veins dark and pulsing. The bed rattles with every tug against his leather bindings. I’m not sure if he recognizes me or even know I’m here. I have to pull him out of this before he draws a wheezer out here.
“Hey, D.” I turn his head around to face me, though the nectar gives him enough strength he could probably pull out of my grip if he wanted to. “It’s Connor. Donovan, can you hear me? You gotta wake up before we get caught.”
His eyes finally lock on me, wide and fearful.
I try to break the nectar’s fog manually, but I can’t even get my awareness to gather. There’s nothing I can do but mutter my name and his name and a plea for him to come back.
A wheezer shrieks in the distance, and I think that’s what brings him back.
He falls back against his pillow when I let go. His eyes are clear.
“Connor. Jesus.” He lifts his head to watch me while I saw at his straps. “That was different than last time. I almost can’t believe you got me back.”
I glance back at the IV stand, then down at the still-dripping catheter.
“I think I can protect us against that,” I mutter. He swings out of bed the second his hands are free. “See if you can’t find a bag of nectar with just the blue flecks in it while I get Kevin.”
“Right.”
He whisks through the curtain and I follow after a few seconds.
With something more distant for me to worry over, I can literally feel my concern over the light ebbing away. The nectar has always been a distraction from more immediate concerns. Why worry about literally being hunted by a hoard of monsters when you can wonder what the stuff making the monsters go actually does?
Kevin’s in the bed across the way.
He doesn’t wake up when I pull the catheter out. On top of that, with the modicum of calm I’ve found, I manage to force my way into his head.
Just the echo bouncing back at me almost makes me forget what I’m doing. A soft lullaby tugs me towards sleep. The smooth surface of the water asks why I would bother disturbing it.
I drift through the fog. Nothing matters.
I ram directly into Kevin’s consciousness. It’s barely enough to bring me back. I hook into Kevin and pull him to the surface with me.
Cold sweat sticks my uniform to my skin, my hair to my forehead, when we return. Kevin gasps like a fish out of water and strains against his bindings. His thrashing knocks me back a few steps, but I can’t get myself to move on my own.
Donovan thought he wouldn’t make it back.
It’s a damn intravenous siren song.
“Sawyer!” Kevin hisses. “Get me out of here.”
I force myself back to the side of his bed. It doesn’t take long to cut his bindings and by the time we meet back up with the others, we both have several bags of nectar and some tubing that should be useful for climbing. Donovan has a pan full of nectar bags, some gold and silver, others with blue galaxies.
Alex and Zee are both laden with medical/climbing gear.
I only breathe easy when we leave the red light of the infirmary behind.
~-○-~
We’ve been sparring for nearly half an hour, and I still haven’t landed a direct hit. I haven’t had a chance to fight in who knows how long, so I’m not exactly surprised that I’m subpar in comparison.
I back up, a broken arm held to my chest. Thanks to the nectar, it’ll only take a few minutes to heal, but it still hurts like a motherfucker. Cross isn’t the type to stop a match due to an injury, so I back myself into my little corner and listen.
“Perry?” The light voice carries through the tunnel. I can’t tell how far away he is or which way he’s coming from. “I’m not a fan of hide and seek. If I have to find you, this may get unpleasant.”
I just need another minute. A broken arm is a dangerous handicap with Cross fighting. He doesn’t pull any punches.
I divert as much nectar as I can to my hands anyway. It encases them to replace working fingers with two wicked blades. As an added precaution, I coat my right arm with a heavy layer of nectar. I’d like it to heal straight, at the very least.
I creep back the way I came, alert for footsteps.
“It’s already fairly unpleasant,” I call when I reach a junction in the tunnel. “I thought we’d fight in a room, not a cave.”
“You must live with what you have, I’m afraid.”
I jerk around to face the right-hand tunnel. Even with the nectar providing superior night vision, I can hardly see down that way. It’s definitely where his voice is coming from.
I edge down that way with my blades at the ready. The pain in my arm has faded to a steady throb. It should be healed soon.
“Ready?”
I stop. That voice has been quiet the whole fight, it’s just now piping up?
“How many of these caves have been explored?” I ask this over my shoulder in hopes that it might throw him off. “It’d be a shame if the warden of the prison got lost out here.”
“That sounds dangerously like a threat, Perry.”
He is far too close, and I still can’t see him.
“It’s an observation.”
A rock skitters out from a shadow in the wall.
“Now.”
Even with the split second warning, I barely raise my knives in time to keep Cross from driving a fist through my face. His savage grin is enough to get the nectar pounding in my ears.
I knock him back and for once I have the upper hand.
Round two. Start.
♥️♥️♥️C♥️♥️♥️
“How did you get out?”
Simon was getting ready to come spring us out when we burst into his cave. His two friends, Ozzie and Pete, both wear the same blank stare as the other empty inmates. They ask no questions and don’t speak unless they’re spoken to.
I wonder how long Simon had to sit here with only them as company.
It takes a brief explanation on how I’m far too familiar with the Scouts for my own good. How I know the blacksuits’ actual boss enough to get him to convince them to be on our side this run. On the dwindling number of blacksuits in the prison whose loyalty lies with us.
On Sawyer switching sides.
I’ll wait until we’re out of the prison to tell them the truth about Sawyer’s betrayal. Whatever my hallucinations of Jay might say, I don’t think they meant to actually join Cross.
If this blue nectar is anything to go off of, he could probably turn anyone into a model soldier of Furnace.
I let everyone else talk about the Steeple, about Furnace and Cross, about the blacksuits and about Sawyer. I focus on the bag of blue nectar in my hands and wonder how long Cross has been working on it.
Now that I have so much of it to look at, to feel with the edges of my mind, I don’t want to risk any of us stuck with it without protection. Donovan and Kevin are still recovering from just a few hours with it in their systems. They only just started participating in the conversation.
That’s just from sitting in the infirmary.
It should be simple enough to section off a portion of our minds, though. If we can keep a little bit of us from being affected by it, we should be able to return to being us even if we’re exposed to it. I’ve done this before, back when we were doing this without Sawyer to drag us all out of the nectar’s thrall.
“Did you see Sawyer?”
At Zee’s words, I jerk upright and let the bag of nectar fall to the ground. I shouldn’t delve too deep into the actual effects of the stuff, not if I want to remain myself for the time we have.
“Yeah.” Kevin crosses his arms. “Almost didn’t recognize her.”
“Them,” Zee mutters.
“I’ve seen nectar change people, but never like that,” Alex muses. “They almost looked like an anime character.”
“It’s not the nectar.” Everyone looks at me now. I shrug. “Everything here listens to them. If their subconscious wants them to have a bright pink ponytail, we can’t really argue with it.”
“So they’re the enemy now?” Simon asks me, of all people.
“Right now, they’re just under Cross’s thumb.” I push to my feet and dust myself off. “I think they’ll find their way to enemy status, though, yeah.”
“I thought they were past that.”
Simon’s disappointment is a surprise. Like an AA sponsor hearing about a relapse. After an uncomfortable silence, he asks about the new nectar.
“It’s bad fucking news.” Donovan tosses another bag of it between his hands. “I’m not going back there to tangle with it again.”
“That bad?”
“Worse,” Kevin cuts in. “Never felt nothin’ like that, death in a goddamn bottle.”
The two of them tag team explaining what the blue nectar felt like. The dreaminess, the feeling that absolutely nothing matters. They both use the same imagery of a perfectly still lake urging you to follow suit.
Nothing else matters so long as you keep still and let go.
I can’t shake off the feeling I’m forgetting something. The idea of the nectar creating a blank slate of my friends’ minds is something I can’t ignore, but there’s something else. Something just out of reach.
“What’ll we do if the Steeple doesn’t work out?” Alex asks. “We can’t just—if it’s that strong, we aren’t seriously going back?”
“I’ll fix it so we can find our way back,” I explain. “We’ll be fine.”
“With your—” Zee wiggles his fingers. “—weird brain magic?”
That finally draws a laugh out of the group. Even I manage a smile. Someone has to make us keep being people, I guess.
“Hell yeah. I wanna do it as soon as possible, in case our usual plan goes sideways.”
Donovan enthusiastically volunteers to go first. I direct him to sit on the floor with his eyes closed, and I kneel in front of him. His jaw tenses when I settle a hand on either side of his head, thumbs in his temples.
“Focus on your name, D,” I prompt with a tendril of thought already winding its way into his consciousness. This is so much easier than messing with his physical brain. “Think of home and going back there. Home.”
“Gonna get a real burger,” Alex adds.
There.
The contented touch of the focused thoughts eases my own nerves. I wrap a piece of my own consciousness around it, a rubber capsule against the cold electricity of the nectar. If everything goes right, this small piece of Donovan can be bounced around indefinitely without being erased.
It worked the last time I had to do this without Sawyer, after all.
I push harder to bury the thing as deep in his subconscious as I can. I don’t know what Sawyer’s deal is, but it’s probably best if they don’t find anything like this in our heads.
I withdraw and let go.
Donovan’s eyes fly open with a choked cough. He shakes his head like he’s got water lodged in his ear. I move back toward him, but he just sticks out a hand for Alex to help him to his feet.
“You okay?”
“You could’a warned me before pulling the plug like that.” Donovan shakes himself out while I clamber upright. “Felt like you pushed me into the river, damn.”
I grin.
“I never said it would be fun.” I shift to face the rest of the group. “Who’s next?”
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Time to reinstall it again.
So. There’s this thing about Deus Ex that’s been rattling around in my head for a while.
The original game was iconic because despite its flaws and the limitations of the engine, it existed in a sweet spot of storytelling narrative, world exploration, stealth, combat, and strategy. It wasn’t the first First Person Shooter / Role Playing Game hybrid, but it was one of the best for a long time and still holds up today.
But I think some games that tried to follow in its footsteps, including the later installments in the same franchise, missed the mark when aiming for that sweet spot. I don’t necessarily mean choices to port to consoles or not, or engine limitations, or anything that exists on the technological side of the game design process. I mean the stories that these games are trying to tell.
In the original Deus Ex, there was some optional dialog when talking to one of the members of the old guard Illuminati where he explains the whole psychological aspect of secrecy and inducting recruits into a multi-tiered conspiracy; the prospect of learning increasingly valued and restricted information is the biggest incentive for the new guys to do well by whatever standards the group uses to evaluate people. (I think it was Stanton Dowd but don’t hold me to that.)
Whether or not the writers intended to or not, they were also describing the progression of a player through the game itself. Every new objective met and mission accomplished and note found and computer hacked filled in another blank, completed more of the jigsaw puzzle, until by the time the endgame starts if the player has been playing attention, they know what’s going on and how high the stakes are.
The focal point of the original Deus Ex was secrecy and trust. You start out working for a top secret task force that holds its cards very close to its vest by design. When you find out that they’re the fox guarding the chicken coop and switch sides, you end up working with... more groups that hold their cards close. Do you trust these organized crime guys to help you and not stab you in the back? Do you believe this lady whose apartment is filled with the telltale sound of security lasers? Do you take your pilots advice? Do you listen to the voice in your head? If you’re working with organized crime now, maybe you’re the bad guy after all. Maybe your old bosses were hardcore hard-asses because the sociopolitical situation is that fucked up. Maybe society really does need an invisible hand on the steering wheel, if ordinary people are just going to panic and turn on each other. Or maybe there are no good guys in this war, just competing assholes with different outfits.
These are the questions that a first time player had to ask themselves, and it isn’t until you start screwing around in the VersaLife facility that you start to find evidence supporting what your allies are actually telling you in dialog, emails, and infolink transmissions. You find the Dragon’s Tooth blueprints and spread that around. Doing that, you find out about the Universal Constructor and its role in the creation of Grey Death and Ambrosia. You blow that up (and according to newspapers most of the VersaLife building) and you find out about the supertanker. Scuttle that and both before and after you learn more about the Illuminati and Majestic Twelve, so you head to Paris and so on and so on and so on... every step fills in more of the blanks. Honestly a conspiracy thriller is the perfect story to tell using a video game because the pacing is so compatible.
Now let’s look at what was not the focus of Deus Ex: Questions about the human condition and the socioeconomic implications of technological assistance. Mechanical augmentation is old school by the time JC Denton gets dumped out of the incubator tank with his cutting edge nanotechnology based augments. There’s two other mechs working at UNATCO, the bartender at Underworld, and maybe Jojo Fine, even if his are cosmetic. The MJ12 Commandos are, according to one email, outfitted with “off-the-shelf” hardware that turns them into walking weapons platforms with enhanced vision and hearing, and running off of standard power supplies. The questions of how this technology would change the human condition and society didn’t get directly addressed during the main plot because for the most part, they didn’t matter; the world was literally falling apart and everyone had much more important stuff to think about. Like not catching an incurable disease. Or finding enough food to live another day.
The implications of what the technology could do to or for people did get addressed in the endgame, but in service to the game’s central theme of trust and secrecy. Technology is a force multiplier and by exploiting the developments in nano augments, artificial intelligence, and the Universal Constructor, Bob Page was turning himself into God. Omniscient, able to manipulate information on a global scale through Helios and the Aquinus Protocol, immortal, and theoretically invincible through his armies of mass produced robots, engineered life forms, and loyal followers. And Bob Page would certainly not be a just and loving god, because he’s an asshole with a massive ego. So he can’t be allowed to become One With All Things. Aside from that, the game is open ended in what happens next, and it comes down to trust in the end; you can trust humanity to steer its own course with nobody in the shadows trying to pull strings, you can trust your fellow conspirators to steer humanity in the right direction behind the scenes... or. You can say “fuck this” and do it yourself by merging with the Helios AI before Page does and becoming a much more benevolent higher power than he would ever be, no matter how much of a dick you were in game.
This is the problem I have with Invisible War, Human Revolution, and to a lesser extent Mankind Divided because I haven’t played it (waiting for a Steam Sale) and I don’t know how much it takes its cues from the other two games. Basically, the dichotomy between augmented and non augmented humans is given center stage, driving the conflict between different factions even when engineered by a third faction behind the scenes. Even within the context of it being another attempt by conspirators to guide human society in a direction that they want it to go, it dominates the philosophical landscape of the plot as well. This is especially true when both sides are presented as having good points, and both sides are shown being supported by assholes who will do anything to further their ideals, and other assholes who use the ideals of their action as an excuse to be assholes. The entire narrative tension becomes a never ending circle jerk until the player picks a side and kills key members of the other one.
Not that anyone’s asked me, but I think the Deus Ex franchise needs to return to its roots of secrecy, trust, and open ended philosophical meandering. And to a limited extent, I have some ideas on how to do this.
First, focus on a plot that really emphasizes the idea of a conspiracy seizing power purely for the sake of power itself. This disconnects the main antagonist, whoever they are, from whatever philosophical arguments get made in the rest of the game.
Second, the question of “what it means to be human” needs to go back into the setting background again. Have it crop up in newspaper articles, blog posts, books and ebooks, have it be something that academics can make tenure arguing about, and (this is important) only have NPCs bring it up when it directly affects them. And have most of the NPC banter and dialog be entirely based around stuff that people today can relate to; incompetent politicians playing fast and loose with the rules, the rising costs of health care, climate change and deniers of the same, economic uncertainty in all of its many many flavors, natural disasters, and mixed in with all of that is a little bit of concern about augments and how it affects their lives specifically. Hell, include a parody news article where augment producing companies complain that post-millennial generations are “ruining” the augmentation market.
Third, bring back skills all the way. Deus Ex started you out with a flashlight in your eyes and a radio in your skull, with options for upgrades later, so you had to get by with your wits, planning, and whatever you put your skill points into during character creation. In Invisible War Alex starts with just the flashlight, but their entire genetic structure has been developed from the ground up to prototype universal genetic alteration and biomod integration. Adam Jensen kicks a reasonable amount of ass with just his tricked out gun during the opening interactive cutscene / tutorial of Human Revolution, and does real well right up until he gets bushwacked by Team Asshole, after which his boss has them put literally everything in the Serif Industries catalog into the guy’s body. No Deus Ex protagonist can ever realistically be expected to align themselves with the anti-modification side in any conflict without invoking emotional manipulation, delusion, a suicide mission, or a vendetta against whoever wired them up without their consent. So either the mods have to be completely optional, or the social dichotomy has to be completely optional. (Or a completely unimportant background detail compared to the rest of the plot.)
Fourth, if you have to keep some sort of dichotomy, make it more complicated than just two sides, for and against. Make it like real life. Make it complicated as different people go “well I agree with this part but that other thing is a deal breaker” and mix and match until the whole human augmentation position exists on a grid system just like political ideologies do, measured using two different X and Y axes. Or (I cannot believe I’m saying this) take a page out of Civilization Beyond Earth’s book with the Affinities, especially the Hybrid Affinities from Rising Tide:
Purity: No augments at all. Skills only
Harmony: Biotech and genetic engineering.
Supremacy: Mechanical augments.
Purity / Harmony: Genetic engineering, but only to wipe out disease and increase humanity’s natural abilities.
Purity / Supremacy: Cybernetics as a matter of utility and tool use, no AI research or enhancing the brain beyond what’s needed to interface with the augments.
Harmony / Supremacy: Transhumanism or bust!
This also lends itself to different abilities and how they get developed. So instead of just mech stuff added by surgery, there’s also retroviral gene therapy, and with skills that makes a trinity of abilities that all need to be balanced. Or at least, if a player goes all in with one group, it requires a certain play style to do (probably with an achievement for beating the game that way). If skills are about what you can do in the world and how well you can interact with objects in that world (five different weapons skills to choose from, hacking, picking locks, etc) then it would make sense for genetic engineering to add passive upgrades and abilities like health regen, improved strength and reflexes, resistance to toxins and knockout darts, and so on. Meanwhile mechanical augments go straight for adding functionality and integrating technology, as with the infolink and seeing through walls. Having all three of these categories be open ended, without any artificial mutual exclusion and railroading along a specific path, means that a player is limited entirely by the circumstances they find or expect to find, and the opportunity cost of making one choice at the exclusion of others. Presumably the requirements for skill progression involved going out and doing things, while mech augments need at least outpatient surgery, and gene therapy requires some convalescence and has a nasty debuff effect while the virus is playing with the PC’s DNA, so there’s that tension going on. Also, augments probably require money while skills can be improved for free, but upgrades for the equipment that skills use, ammunition, and supplies also cost money, so there’s that resource management aspect.
This also means that the players allies and enemies can be more varied as well, because no group is defined purely by adherence to one type of ability or another. The groups are defined by where they stand in relation to the conspiracy driving the main plot (part of it or not, supporting it or not, aware of it or not) and possibly a completely tangential goal or mission like money for a mercenary team. This means that allied groups have more room to have memorable characters, and so do enemy groups as well. It also means that fighting against a specific group requires a lot more planning and tactical thinking, if they have a team made of different people whose abilities compliment each other.
And that’s about all I have on this subject, at least for the moment. It’s getting late and I have to peel potatoes in the morning.
#game design#deus ex#conspiracy#artificial dichotomy#holy smokes#they're savioriffic#that was an actual billboard in Deus Ex#I am not kidding#long post is looooooong#I really need to learn how to do that Keep Reading thing
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Julie and the Phantoms
Summary: Trying my own hand at JATP novelization, using the show rather than the novel or the scripts. I’m sure it’s been done before but there’s never enough Julie and the Phantoms, right? If nothing else, I have an excuse to rewatch every single scene of the show all over again.
CHAPTER 06: we’re still rising
Alex
Death is very different from what I’d have imagined. For one, it’s definitely not peaceful. In the past couple of hours, I’ve had too much drama and excitement for a lifetime or two. It’s a relief to get to grab my drumsticks and discover that I still have the use of them.
Twenty five years. Twenty five years and fortunately, our instruments are still at the studio, in good shape. I don’t know whether Julie’s mother kept them that way or whether they’d been left forgotten and miraculously survived a quarter of a century. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that despite it all, we still sound fine. For a trio of dead guys. Even I forget just how much has changed when the familiar sound of Luke’s guitar and Reggie’s bass and my own drums envelops me like a warm embrace.
Like all good things, it doesn’t last long.
“Guys! Guys! Stop!” Julie, our new not-exactly-a-friend storms in, shouting frantically. “Enough. The whole neighborhood can hear you!” She looks less than pleased, especially when we only reluctantly put down our instruments. She can’t understand how much we needed to feel this good. “I thought I told you to leave.”
“Wait!” Luke pauses, staring at her. “People can hear us play?”
“Yes! Including my Dad and my brother!”
Julie is missing the point. On the other hand, my eyes widen. I can hear the dogs howling in the distance. “Wait, wait, wait,” I say, getting up from behind the drums. This is a lot to process. “So only you can see us but everyone can hear us? I mean,” I turn to my bandmates, “what kind of ghosts are we?” My shock and frustration isn’t unreasonable. There are many questions and too few answers.
“Who cares, man?” Luke says. He is practically bouncing. “People can hear us play!”
Reggie knocks his fist against Luke’s. “We might be dead, but our music isn’t.” He is beaming.
Before I can protest that their priorities are just a little out of whack, the door to the studio opens again. It never used to be this busy while we were alive. This time, it’s Julie’s father.
“Dad!” she protests when he walks in.
“Just making sure you’re okay,” he says. Not unkindly. As far as father’s go, this one seems okay. He seems genuine in his concern for Julie and not in a nagging way.
“Yeah,” Julie says. “Just had to turn off the CD player.” She is very good at lying, this girl. I wonder how often she’s had to make up a story to persuade everyone that she’s indeed fine.
That’s when Julie’s father notices our instruments. Somehow, it shocks me that he can see them, even though we’ve had to assemble them from where they’d been stored all that time. It feels like they should be invisible, like we are to him. Obviously, they are not. “Wait, is this the junk that was in the loft?”
“Junk?” Luke repeats in disbelief, offended. Julie’s father loses points with me instantly, too.
“Some of this stuff is in pretty good shape,” he says admiringly and touches his fingers to my drums. “Hey, maybe we can make a couple of bucks.”
“What?” I gasp. “Yo, stop touching my drums.” I know he can’t hear me, I’m not sure if I’d be so blunt if he could, but the way he casually touches my drums makes me viscerally uncomfortable. It’s strange how much I can still feel despite not having a corporeal body. I’d have thought being a ghost would have resolved all the uncomfortable feelings in my chest. “Tell him to stop touching my drums!” I tell Julie when addressing her father directly does, predictably, nothing.
Although, his next words warm me up a little. "I liked the song you had on."
They don't warm me up quite as much as they warm up Reggie, who beams. "Sweet! We're Sunset Curve! Tell your friends!" Honestly, with Reggie it's hard to tell whether it's the force of habit or whether he has yet to notice that Julie's Dad can't see or hear us - unless we are playing, that is. Luke looks pleased, too, but Luke's life and identity revolve around the music we make and so it's no shock to anyone that this compliment would butter him up.
"It's just an old CD I found," Julie says. I guess she's not exactly lying. It's strange to think that not just our instruments, but our CD too, have been lying around in wait for twenty five years. Waiting for us. I wonder how many more of our things are stored here. And how much of it will Julie's father want to sell. I wander out from behind the drums, putting my non-corporeal body between my drum set and the man. He seems kind and well-intentioned, I'll give him that much, but he definitely wants to turn my drums into dollars. At least I assume that's what people still pay with these days.
"Well, still, it's nice that you're listening to music again," he is saying. "Out here you can play whatever you want, whenever you want." He spreads his arms in a welcoming gesture and his hands go straight through me and Reggie. This is the second time something like that happened to me tonight and I'm still not used to it. It's not a pleasant feeling. I jump back.
Reggie, meanwhile, rubs his chest where the man's hand has poked through, but he says: "Oh! That's nice!" I'm assuming he's referring to the words and not the limbs passing through his body, but with Reggie, it's practically impossible to say what's going on in his head. I am still not sure he knows Julie's Dad isn't speaking to us.
Julie snaps at him: "Stay out of this!"
I wonder whether she, too, has failed to realize that her Dad can see only half of the picture here. His face crumbles. "I... I'm sorry, honey. I didn't..." I almost feel bad for him.
"Oh, no, not you!" Julie hurries to say. She seems exasperated at this point, but it's clear she doesn't want to hurt her Dad. "You know what... Give me a minute."
Although hesitant, her Dad nods. "We are going to figure out this music program thing," he says kindly. It reminds me of the times when my parents and I were still able to talk normally, before things got awkward and every interaction was marked with their disappointment and worry.
"Thanks Dad," Julie tells him before closing the studio door behind him and turning to the three of us.
Luke grins and, adjusting the strap of his guitar, bouncing a little, says proudly: "He likes our song." Reggie is nodding along, pleased.
I shake my head. "Oh yeah. He doesn't count. He's a dad." It's clear to me that he would say something complimentary about any music Julie was playing in here. He just wanted her to be happy, which was honestly sweet. It just didn't count as much of an unbiased review.
"Why can't you guys just be normal ghosts?" Julie says, glaring at us in fury. She makes a frustrated gesture with her arms. "Hang out at an old mansion! I hear Pasadena is nice. Ugh!"
She storms away.
We have not made a good impression on her, not the first time and not now. I don't think she can actually kick us out, probably, but I fear our cohabitation might be a little tense. She could mess with our things, like my drums... Sarcastically, I say: "I think she's warming up to us."
"Yeah, I've always wanted to go to Pasadena," Reggie says, sincere.
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JUSTIN BIEBER - YUMMY
[2.68]
Well, we thought about the Yummy, we said “Biebs, you’re fucking high...”
Alex Clifton: Why are straight boys like this?
[2]
Leah Isobel: Justin Bieber's greatest strength as a vocalist is - was - playing very dumb phrases extremely straight, investing them with almost overflowing, doe-eyed emotion. This quality could turn a one-word chorus into poetry, or he could U-turn into knowing comedy when the phrases and ideas got dumb enough. On "Yummy," though, Bieber meets his match in a title phrase that's too winkingly juvenile even for his reformed child-star tenor. More than that, he sounds tired, like he doesn't even want to be playing this game anymore - his high notes have turned nasal and yelpy, his low register more empty air than resonance. I can imagine the Bieber of "Boyfriend" or "Beauty and a Beat" really feasting on this track, but 2020 Bieber needs more than vapid concepts to regurgitate on a semi-trendy beat. Those doe eyes have turned dead.
[2]
Joshua Minsoo Kim: This would be a generous [6] if it were 2013 and this was one of the lesser tracks on Journals. More than six years later, and "Yummy" just sounds like... nothing? People complained that Ciara singing "yummy" was a mistake, but Bieber does something infinitely worse: he makes it devoid of any and all feeling.
[3]
Ashley Bardhan: What can I say when Justin already said it all himself -- "you got the yum, yum-yum"? This song sounds like it would be Noah Centineo's ringtone.
[1]
Thomas Inskeep: "Yeah, you got that yummy-yum" -- is Bieber trying to sound like an idiot? Because guess what, he succeeds. The production's generic pop-trap, and the lyrics are moronic beyond measure. About as yummy as food left in a dumpster at the height of summer for a week.
[1]
Brad Shoup: Yummy is a fine word, acceptable even: couples are (or usually are) goofy. Things like yummy tend to slip out. It's the shiver he puts into the line "never runnin' low on supplies" that truly haunts. Wild how a couple years ago, the vocal manipulation would be front and center. Now, the up- and down-pitched yummies are practically invisible. Maybe by 2021 they'll be gone.
[3]
Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Justin Bieber choruses work best when framed around a question: "What do you mean?" "Is it too late now to say sorry?" "Can we still be friends?" "Can we keep each other company?" "Where are yoü now?" See, Justin has never been the sexiest or suavest pop star in the world, but these big, pontificating questions sound nice. Fill in the blank answer with whatever you want; Justin is just the handsome chauffeur taking you to your destination. It becomes a problem, then, when he's asked to sell something more direct; he just sounds silly and unconvincing. "Yeah, you got that yummy-yum, that yummy-yum, that yummy-yummy" is already a weak chorus to begin with, something even a Bruno Mars, Childish Gambino or Drake would have difficulty pulling off. Here, we have Bieber: selling this positive statement with the enthusiasm of someone politely pretending to like something they don't.
[3]
Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: The beat of "Yummy" sounds like a horny remix of the Wii Shop theme. It is by a wide margin the best part of the song.
[2]
Alfred Soto: As abstracted a signifier of post-adolescent yearning as Bryan Ferry is a holy spirit of divine melancholy, Justin Bieber could be Swae Lee or Arthur Lee. He chirps over this here trap beat because he can't chew on it -- where are the yums? I smiled only at the line about walking in house slippers.
[3]
Nortey Dowuona: The problem with Justin Bieber is that he's not interesting enough to really write about, musically, gossipcally or at all. The smooth, loping bass with sweeping, swallago synths and dispassionate synth progressions or the dull, flat drums are too interesting for Bieber to dully fumble over while not being able to play around with his limited range in the slightest the way a Frank Ocean or a Dappy or even a YBN Cordae could. At least it's short.
[5]
Ian Mathers: Every day Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping inches closer to being a documentary.
[4]
Katherine St Asaph: OK, but I can go listen to Usher's "Lemme See," Chromatics' "Lady" and Ciara's "Dance Like We're Making Love" and get the same nocturnal streetlights-on-rain mood without also hearing Justin Bieber sing "yummy."
[3]
Scott Mildenhall: Whether or not this is a song whose authors think is commercially astute, it is fantastically stupid in a way that seems too witless to have been so engineered. It was awkward enough when Harry Styles pressed the "belly" button, but to hang a whole song on the word "yummy" is both comical and, to extend the juvenilia further, icky. Though perhaps this is a path to follow. Bieber will already have fans who weren't born before "One Time" (or were babies as of "Baby"), so why not go an eenie meenie bit further and make the video a toy unboxing? Children are the future!
[4]
Will Adams: Somehow less convincing and more juvenile/slightly creepy than when Bieber called his girl an "eenie meenie miney mo lover" ten years ago.
[3]
Oliver Maier: Justin Bieber spent his teens trying to sound grown-up, then spent his early 20s trying to sound like a teenager. Purpose's singles posited him as a golden-hearted hottie grappling with adolescent naivety, who hurts your feelings or doesn't quite get it but is still trying, dangit. There was naturally a manipulative subtext to that cluelessness, but for whatever reason -- maybe that tension is interesting, maybe the songs were just catchy -- he remained compelling, and still felt out of our league. These days, I guess he's content to sound like nothing whatsoever. "Yummy" surrenders a few too many brain cells both in composition (this doesn't sound like a song anybody cared about writing) and execution (Justin Bieber sounds like the most tediously simpering man on the planet). There are shadows of good melodies here and there, if you're feeling generous, but it is simply too half-formed, and so cutesy and content that it nukes Bieber's sensuality altogether. I can't decide whether to cringe or take a nap.
[3]
Will Rivitz: Three points to this as a conceptual exercise -- I didn't think it possible to sanitize "Hotline Bling" even more than the original. That's all it gets.
[3]
Kylo Nocom: Awful metaphors and unsexy sex talk as bait for detractors to publicly (and correctly) declare awful. It's the same strategy as "Earth" and as the bizarre lead singles of other stars' comebacks: get the fans liking it, and the haters furious at how stupid it is. What "Yummy" does have is plenty of melodic tricks, and a beat like this would've popped off in 2016. Yet giving this any credit feels like rewarding a transparent cash-in when he's had far more attractive come-ons.
[4]
Kayla Beardslee: Obviously "Yummy" isn't good. Obviously I was never personally going to like it. Obviously we as a collective are going to hate it. But what am I actually supposed to do with it? The Justin Bieber hate train has whirred back into full force -- the video is 15% disliked, and articles (plus offhand internet comments) criticizing him, the rollout, and the music are already being pumped out. He took over four years to come back after Purpose, but has been dropping a steady stream of features in the interim: Bieber has simultaneously faded from the public eye as a solo artist and overexposed himself as an inconsistent, practically anonymous guest feature. There's no hype for his return, except among diehard fans who would assemble no matter the timing or quality. It feels like being force fed. And yet, although "Yummy" is a joyless combination of beige and sleaze, I'm still hesitant to gleefully condemn it. As a song, sure, it's unpleasant and Purpose-less and not what he needed to kick off a successful era. But, let's be real, "Yummy" is such a nothing that trashing of the music can easily transfer onto Bieber himself, and so much of the hate is not (for lack of a better term) in good faith. If you're going to criticize Bieber, call him out for things like idolizing Chris Brown and patronizing Hillsong (deciding whether the latter is actually bad is complicated, but it's certainly been a topic of conversation around him). But how many people in a social media crowd are going to provide balanced criticisms of difficult topics like these? Bieber's music has been marketed toward teen girls, he has a pretty voice that some might judge as feminine, he just dyed his hair pink, he's making trendy pop and chasing traditional masculine and commercial markers of success: these are all fodder for cheap shots and knee-jerk hate across a variety of communities. I've seen people (a friend, a relative) react to mentions of Justin Bieber with mild disgust -- literally just his name is a repellent. Of course, Bieber carries himself with a cocky attitude that's easy to hate (probably what happens when you're forced into the ridiculous freedom and unique restrictions of celebrity when you're a naive teenager). Of course, he's built a reputation for acting like a terrible person many times in the past. Of course, Bieber is a straight white man who has a layer of security against harassment that artists like, for example, Lizzo don't have. And yet I constantly remember that Bieber has spoken out about battling depression, and I feel uncomfortable joining the pile-on. And really, what is there to enjoy about trashing him or "Yummy"? The track is bland and unambitious, except for when it's actively repelling ("get litty, babe"; the entire fucking premise of "yummy"). Bieber doesn't even sound like he cares. At first, I thought his team must have chosen a song named "Yummy" as a lead single for the same reason scammers still send Nigerian prince emails: immediately weed out the people who have no patience for it, and focus instead on reaching the sympathetic (his fanbase) and the oblivious (the general public bogeyman that passively consumes hits through playlists). And then I learned that the bridge namedrops Bieber's own house slipper brand, in a dumb, out of touch move that only a rich celebrity would approve of. That single moment makes me think his team is, in fact, desperate enough to coast on soulless music and hope to profit off Bieber's previous reputation and work alone. We're all just tired, aren't we?
[1]
Jibril Yassin: Justin Bieber, a generational vocal talent, is trying to channel Post Malone here and all that comes to mind is a xerox of the Spider-Man pointing at Spider-Man meme. Can we get Usher to come back and fix this?
[1]
[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]
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We Can Be Heroes - Origins
A Quick Guide to Social Anxiety
______________________________________
L E V I
"Kindaichi Creelman?" The teacher at the front of the class asks and I reluctantly raise my hand, "here" I all but seethe and the teacher looks up at me and smiles which I don't return, then he continues with the roll. You'd think people in this godforsaken school would be able to understand that I want to be called Levi. Its listed as my preferred name, so its really pretty simple to remember to not use my Japanese name.
I take my hand down and refocus my view to the window next to me. My window. Next to my seat. Which always has to be in the back. Where the teachers never pay attention or students can't be bothered to turn around and cause shit like throwing paper or bullying me indiscreetly because if they were to turn around to deliberately be assholes at least the teacher would notice. Well . . . maybe except Mr Freeman who was as blind as a bad and as deaf as a . . . I don't know . . . something that's deaf.
The seats in the back are a godsend to anyone who wishes to go throughout life without being noticed, invisible to the countless shitheads at Center Point Valley High School or CPVHS to those who can't she stuffed to say five words at a time.
A little Blue Wren flies past the window and settles itself into the Gumtree close by and my lip twitches in a small half smile. I'd rather be out there and free than trapped in this small room with a bunch of teens who care more about who their sleeping with than the actual knowledge they could be learning. Ahh well. They're the ones who'll be mangers of fast food restaurants in twenty years. Not me.
"Now if you divide this by the numerical you get your answer." The teacher continues and j wrote down the information without looking at anyone. I don't know where my fear of people came from . . . fear seems to be to strong of a word . . . a big dislike of humans deems to fit better. But I've been scared/uncomfortable in large crowds or parties or any place that has more than three peoples tops.
I've been this way ever since I was a kid - it isn't as if I have some dark and tragic anime background story. My father was a firefighter pasted away a few years ago so I live with my step mother and half-brother . . . my mother . . . well that's a long story for a different time. A long and complicated story.
Okay well maybe I do have s fairly anime styled back story . . . doesn't mean anything.
Really the only upside of my school life was meeting AJ.
One day when I brought in a delicious piece of chocolate cake to school – which looked like it would be the best cake in the whole damn world, a kid accidentally bumped into me and thus, I dropped the delicious looking cake and cried.
R. I. P.
Well the kids laughed which just pissed me off really, I turn around to see the douche that hit me and was met with a pair of very concerned and fear filled brown eyes. He said sorry almost immediately but I just left, not bothering with saying anything to him and I continued to ignore him for the rest of the week – not like that was anything new for me since I ignore everybody. But come the following Monday, this blonde haired, blue eyed child brings in a whole chocolate cake and said it was for me.
I kind of just stared at him until he passes me the plate of heaven and smiles.
“I’m AJ, sorry for making you drop your cake, I was just looking at a butterfly and I didn’t see you.” He says while blushing. “So I made you this cake all for you so you wouldn’t hate me anymore. I just moved here so I really, really want to be your friend.” The little ray of sunshine says excitedly, that’s when I realised – ‘hey, I kinda like this kid, he makes me cake.’ A very shallow thought but I thought that the fact that he made me a cake was the best thing in the world for an eight year old. I ended up inviting him over so we could eat the damn cake he made, my parents were so happy that I finally made a friend, that I wouldn’t be alone anymore – they make being alone sound like a bad thing . . . which it isn’t – and they just loved AJ’s happy-go-lucky personality and so did I. I secretly hoped he would rub off on me. Nothing seemed to bother him for long, he was like a giant magnet; everybody loved him and wanted to be around him. He was nice to everyone and as we grew older he never changed and I realised that soon, he’d find new friends to hang out with, to go to parties with and tell everything too. I mean why would a ray of sunshine want to hang out with the shadows? Damn that does make me sound Emo. But he didn’t. He didn’t get rid of me to find more fun loving friends, he stayed.
“Why would I want them when I have you?” was his reply, nothing made me feel so wanted. We were fifteen then and we are still friends. It’s now our last year of high school and that’s when it dawns on me – ten years. AJ has been my friend for ten years and he hasn’t gotten sick of me and I haven’t got sick of him.
I’ve had this sunshine in my life for ten years and I still haven’t got a tan.
I want to keep adding the years until the end.
He’s the best thing to ever happen to me.
A boy is introduced to the class and I lift my focus to the front of the room.
"This is our new student Gabriel. Why don't you take a seat up the back next to Kindaichi." The teacher says and my jaw clenches in anger.
______________________________________
A J
I love dinosaurs.
I don’t even know why, I like the idea of something living that long ago, something that big and something that cool being able to have a family and eat foods and just live. I love the idea of life. That everything lives in its own way and how if you upset the balance just a little bit – you could end the life.
“Alexander–Jay Northing?” my P.E teacher asks, I turn to them and call out “Present!” I turn back to the game I was playing but it was too late – a received a volleyball to the face which sends me flying onto my butt. “Ouch” I complain as my face feels warm from impact. My class mate runs over to me and helps me up. “Nice kill Anthony.” I say and he laughs. “I’m really sorry Alex.” He says and I laugh with him. “It’s okay man, but I’m totally winning the next point.” I reply and he scoffs, “yeah right, you can’t serve for shit.” He jokes and I grab my heart. “Another kill Anthony, but just you wait.” I warn and walk back to serve. The ball flies up and I jump up to hit it but just when I expect to feel the sting on my hand I feel nothing until something hits my head which brings my teammates into another fit of laughter. I missed it? Argh I thought I was good at volleyball! I repeat the serve and this time hit it. The ball sails over the net and hits the other court before anyone could hit it. “YES!” I yell as my team wins the second set. “Guess my serves are a bit better than shit.” I tease.
I wonder what class Levi has. I know better than to call him Kindaichi, I know he hates his Japanese name. I always wonder what class he has, if he likes that class, if he hates that class . . . it’s obvious that he hates the people in his class. I mean he hates everybody; he even used to hate me. I still remember that fateful day, the day of which I made him drop that cake. I still don’t understand that guy’s obsession with sweets, he makes L Lawliet look like an amateur with how much sugar he puts in his body without gaining anything extreme; he’s cute and chubby and not very muscular and I wouldn’t want him any other way.
I told him I was distracted by a butterfly, which I was until I saw the kid with black hair and blue eyes, looking at the cake like it was the most important thing in his world. Then me being me I forgot to break and accidently bumped into him. I felt bad immediately, and my heart just about broke when he started crying. Then the other kids made fun of him and he stopped. I’ve never met anybody so beautiful as him, which is an odd thing for an eight year old to think but the shorter boy with black hair and pale skin with the darkest brown eyes I have ever seen who is looking at me like I murdered his entire family in front of him is beautiful.
I try to apologise but he just leaves and I bite my lip nervously. ‘Maybe he’ll forgive me tomorrow.’ I thought hopefully.
He didn’t.
I tried every day for a week to get the beautiful boy to talk to me but he ignored me. It made me sad and confused. I just wanted to be his friend, he always sat alone and the kids laughed at him when he spoke and stuttered which I just found adorable. I remember going home and crying to my mum.
“Mummy he hates me” I cried and she hugged me. “Who? Are you being bullied?” she asked worriedly and I shook my head. “No, but I accidentally made this boys cake drop and he keeps ignoring me, I just want to be his friend.” I cried and she hugs me tighter. “You big hearted, beautiful boy.” She says and squeezes. “What should you do to get him to talk to you? Was he upset when he dropped the cake?” she asks and I nod.
“He cried.” I replied. “I should make him a cake!” I thought excitedly and she nods, “that’s a great idea!” she responds.
We make the cake on Sunday, my mums long blonde hair in a bun as she hands me the ingredients that I put in the bowl.
“So what’s his name?” she asks and I smile. “It’s Kindaichi, but he likes to be called Levi, oh mum he’s so pretty! And he has this adorable stutter.”
I say and she smiles. “You think he’s pretty and adorable?” she asks and I nod, “is that weird?” I say quietly. “Nope. Not at all, you can like anyone you want baby, okay, I will never tell you otherwise.” She said. Little eight year old me had no idea what was so bad about thinking a boy was beautiful until I got older.
There was an openly gay boy in the year above us, Levi and I were only thirteen and I couldn’t grasp the thought of what was so wrong. But when the boys were picking on him and calling him names, I became a coward; I forced my feelings down and pretended to be as straight as a ruler. I still am pretending. I don’t know why I haven’t told anyone I’m gay, I mean my generation is pretty chill now but I guess there is this underlying fear of being rejected by everyone I love.
Even if that means keeping this secret from Levi.
The bell rings and I get changed back into my school uniform of long black pants, a white button up shirt and a black and white striped tie, and the occasional black blazer or jacket in the cooler weather. My stomach growls and I pat it. ‘Shh, you’ll be fed soon’ is my thought as I make it to the lunch areas, sitting down in the usual spot away from all the other seats, perfect for Levi. Speaking of that black haired, blue eyed boy, where is he?
Then, to my utter surprise, Levi walks out, that’s not what’s surprising. The thing that is surprising is the fact that he’s walking with another boy next to him. ‘What? But he hates everyone!’ is my defence, this has to be a mistake then he is standing before me with the other guy. “Hey AJ, this is Gabriel.” He says and looks to the boy with light brown hair and dark eyes that almost seem black. He gives him a pointed look and Levi laughs softly. “Sorry, this is Gabe. Gabe, this is AJ.” He says and I nod at him. Gabe? Their on a nicknames basis? Who the hell is this kid? And what has he done to Levi? My shy and people hating Levi.
“It’s nice to meet you. I don’t really like a lot of people so it might be nice to get to know you guys.” He says, well, that’s why Levi likes him. “Well how do you guys know each other?” I ask, careful to keep any dangerous emotion out of my voice. “The maths teacher last period told me to sit next to him and I did. He seemed not to like people either so I thought may as well hate people together.” Gabe laughs and opens his lunch box from his position next to Levi. “How was last period?” I ask him and he shrugs.
“Same old, boring class filled with the people I hate. What about you?” pHe asks and takes a bite from his sandwich. “Eh, I got hit in the face by a ball but my team won so…go me.” I say and he laughs just as Gabe takes out a piece of caramel cake. Levi’s eyes immediately focus on it and I shake my head with a chuckle. “Gabe, I’d be careful if I were you, Levi here has a thing for sweets.” I say and point to the salivating boy. “Do you want it?” Gabe asks and I cock an eyebrow. He’d just give him a piece of cake? What the hell? Levi nods as the cake is put in front of him. The sandwich that looks to have salad on it is forgotten as he digs into the cake and smiles.
“Thank you so much.” He says gleefully with his mouth full. That adorable idiot, you are eighteen years old, don’t talk with your mouth full. The rest of the lunch break went by, asking questions to the new kid who just moved here from a whole other state, reasons he didn’t want to disclose. Levi seems to like him which was enough to put me on edge. He hated me for a week until he was willing to be my friend. A week! And even after that, this friendship was one careful brick at a time. To see him get this far in friendship with a guy he just met today makes me uncomfortable.
Maybe he’s not the one that should be worried about me leaving him. Maybe I should be worried he’ll leave me. “AJ? Are you even listening to me?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts by a pouting Levi. No! Don’t be cute! “Huh? What were you saying?” I ask and he huffs and crosses his arms, Gabe watching intently. “I take that as a ‘no’ you weren’t listening.” He answers and I shrug sheepishly. “Sorry.” I reply and he rolls his eyes. “I said that you should invite Gabe to your birthday party.” He states while looking over to the silent boy. “What? You want him to come?” I ask, trying to keep all surprise out of my tone. “Not to your actual birthday with just us and your family, I mean the one that you invited the whole damn school too.” He says with an edge and a laugh escapes. “I’m sorry, but everyone is expecting I throw a party for my eighteenth. They’d complain and annoy me.” I say and he rolls his eyes again.
Damn, what an attitude he has today, he should at least be a little happier. I mean he’s had cake! “Well sorry Mr Popular. It’s not my fault that you seem to like all the shitheads at this school.” He says while sliding down further into his seat I laugh again and he glares at me. “This isn’t funny dumbass.” He snips which makes me laugh even more and Gabe just looks from me to him a few times.
“But I guess he can come to the big party before the birthday just for us.” I announce and Gabe looks up happily. “Really? When is it?” he asks and grabs a date planner out. “Um, next Friday.” I say and he flips to the page. “The third of April?” he asks and I nod in confirmation. “Yeah, my real birthday is the fourth.” I say and he nods before turning to back to Levi. “So you two spend your real birthday together?” he asks and Levi nods in response before turning back to the rest of his lunch. I follow suit before my eyes meet Gabe’s who gives me a knowing look.
Huh? He ignores me and continues with his lunch, his face turning back to neutral. What is with this guy?
______________________________________
L E V I
The bell rings and I groan. “Ugh, English. You think we can skip without getting in trouble?” I ask AJ and he laughs. “I highly doubt it Levi.” He responds and I groan and deflate. “Ugh – I hate English.” I mumble and Gabe laughs from beside me. “Me too Levi, I can’t stand English.” He responds and I smile, catching AJ look strange from the corner of my eye. “Well we better go; English is one of the only classes we have together.” AJ says and puts his bag over his shoulder. “Pfft, yeah. Can’t forget that we have cooking together.” I snicker and picture AJ and I in Mrs Davis’s class, AJ covered in flour and other ingredients. He’s as bad with cooking as I am with social interactions.
“What teacher do you have?” I direct the question to Gabe and he grabs a piece of paper out of his bag. “Mrs Cowell.” He responds and AJ snorts. “Good luck with her – the woman’s a tyrant. We had her last year.” He says and shakes his head at the memory of the teacher who would give the whole class detention if one person didn’t bring in homework. I shudder and stand closer to AJ about to depart for class. “I’ll see you later?” I ask Gabe and he smiles and nods and I nod back and start walking with AJ who is silent for most of the way there.
“AJ, are you okay? You’ve been really quiet and I’m starting to worry.” I bite my lip nervously at what could be wrong. “It’s nothing – I promise. I’m just confused about something.” He reassures but for some reason it doesn’t make me feel any better. “Okay…?” I answer and walk into hell – I mean class.
“Kindaichi Creelmen?” the teacher calls out and I roll my eyes as AJ laughs silently next to me. “Here.” I say flatly and bring my forehead to my desk and let out a groan which only urges AJ to laugh even more. “Don’t worry. They’ll get your name eventually.” AJ comforts and pats my back while biting his cheek to stop himself from laughing at my expense and I shake my head.
“No they won’t. They’ve had plenty of years to learn my name but they haven’t and they never will.” I complain and AJ just smiles and answers ‘present’ when his name is called on the roll.
Mr Tysilk, a fairly young teacher that for some reason has the whole female population of this hell hole in love with him walks from one side of his desk to the other, talking about some literally devices or something. I stifle a yawn and see AJ out of the corner of my eye repeat the action. See . . . English is boring.
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