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arda-marred · 6 months

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And so we come again, as so many discussions of fantasy inevitably do, to J. R. R. Tolkien. As a writer of fantasy, Tolkien hardly needs an introduction. Even before the success of the film adaptations of his work transformed him into a household name, he had won first the hearts of children with The Hobbit in 1937 and, some twenty years later, the hearts and minds of adult readers with The Lord of the Rings. But, like Coleridge and MacDonald before him, Tolkien thought deeply about his craft as a writer and creator, and it is largely by virtue of this thought that his art has achieved such timeless success. His 1939 lecture “On Fairy-Stories,” subsequently published as an essay in the 1964 book Tree and Leaf, is, as the editors of the recent authoritative edition of the essay put it, “Tolkien’s defining study of and the centre-point in his thinking about the genre [of fantasy], as well as being the theoretical basis for his fiction” (Flinger and Anderson 9). In this seminal work, he addresses all the points about the imagination raised by Coleridge and, following MacDonald, defends their application in the literary arts. We have already explored the other facets of Tolkien’s theory of fantasy as it contributes to the fantastic sublime, but I have saved his thoughts on the imagination for last, because I feel they serve as a linchpin for the fantastic sublime as a whole.

At first glance it would appear that Tolkien dispenses altogether with Coleridge’s whole tripartite scheme of primary imagination, secondary imagination, and fancy. Indeed, he takes issue with the desynonymization of imagination and fancy, though he does not single out Coleridge directly. A philologist of the highest order and sometime editor of the Oxford English Dictionary, Tolkien may be displaying false modesty when he ventures that, “[r]idiculous though it may be for one so ill-instructed to have an opinion on this critical matter, I venture to think the verbal distinction philologically inappropriate, and the analysis inaccurate” (OFS 59). Having deconstructed Coleridge’s framework, Tolkien then counters with his own, which is, by his own admission, just as arbitrary as Coleridge’s imagination/fancy divide.

The mental power of image-making is one thing, or aspect; and it should appropriately be called Imagination. . . The achievement of the expression, which gives (or seems to give) the inner consistency of reality, is indeed another thing, or aspect, needing another name: Art, the operative link between Imagination and the final result, Sub-creation. For my present purpose I require a word which shall embrace both the Sub-creative Art in itself and a quality of strangeness and wonder in the Expression. . . I propose, therefore, to arrogate to myself the powers of Humpty-Dumpty, and to use Fantasy for this purpose. (OFS 59-60)

But the advantage to this approach as both a theoretical model and a critical framework is that it separates out and clearly labels the writer’s mind (Imagination), the creative process itself (Art), and the finished product (Sub-creation). Fantasy is the end result.

Although Tolkien’s theory dispenses with Coleridge’s distinction between imagination and fancy, however, it preserves and even strengthens Coleridge’s assertions regarding the qualitative similarities between primary and secondary imagination. This isn’t immediately obvious, though the term “Sub-creation” gives us a telling hint. But to fully understand Tolkien’s debt to Coleridge, we must travel back to 1931, eight years before Tolkien delivered his lecture “On Fairy-Stories.” In that year, following a latenight conversation with his friend C. S. Lewis in which he defended the truths of Pagan myth even in a Christian world, he crystalized his thoughts into a poem called “Mythopoeia.” He quotes several lines from the poem in his lecture, and they are worth quoting here as well, for they cut to the heart of the similarity between primary and secondary imagination:

Man, Sub-creator, the refracted light through whom is splintered from a single White to many hues, and endlessly combined in living shapes that move from mind to mind. Though all the crannies of the world we filled with Elves and Goblins, though we dared to build Gods and their houses out of dark and light, and sowed the seed of dragons, 'twas our right. (Mythopoeia 61-8)

The metaphor of light that Tolkien employs here and elsewhere for the imaginative process is more vivid than Coleridge’s original distinction, but it nonetheless conveys exactly the same sense. In fact, the verbs Coleridge uses to describe the process of the secondary imagination—dissolves, diffuses, dissipates—suggest he was thinking along the same metaphorical lines. But Tolkien, usually so careful to avoid overt religious reference, here actually makes the religious and spiritual implications of the imagination more explicit than Coleridge’s “infinite I AM.” While, as we saw, George MacDonald is uncomfortable with ascribing to man the power of creation, Tolkien actually revels in man’s creative power. As in Coleridge, man’s creative power differs from that of God only in degree, hence the word “sub-creator.”

Tolkien’s vision of man as sub-creator leads him to openly challenge Coleridge’s willing suspension of disbelief. Like MacDonald, he argues that a secondary world, or sub-creation, must be governed by a certain consistency if it is to hold an audience’s attention. To him, “this suspension of disbelief is a substitute for the genuine thing, a subterfuge we use when condescending to games or make-believe, or when trying (more or less willingly) to find what virtue we can in the work of an art that has for us failed” (OFS 52). The true aim of fantasy, for Tolkien, is to draw the audience into a state of “Secondary Belief” similar to the sustained participative imagination argued for by MacDonald. The real change from Coleridge, and even MacDonald, here is that it places the burden of proof, so to speak, on the artist rather than the audience. When confronted with a good work of fantasy, the audience should not have to voluntarily suspend disbelief. Rather, “the story-maker proves a successful 'subcreator'. He makes a Secondary World which your mind can enter. Inside it, what he relates is 'true': it accords with the laws of that world. You therefore believe it, while you are, as it were, inside” (OFS 52). I can’t help but think that Coleridge would have admired the symmetry of this idea of primary and secondary belief with his own idea of primary and secondary imagination, and would have conceded the point to Tolkien. And it is here that the fantastic sublime comes into full flower.

Tolkien’s language here reflects many of the writings on the sublime, from Longinus all the way up to present critics like Robert Doran. There is a certain inexorable, inevitable, magnetic pull that surrounds works of the sublime like a gravitational field. The sublime grabs hold of readers and doesn’t let them go. It turns their gaze upward and pushes their minds and spirits to see and experience things they could not have otherwise imagined. And at the same time, it makes audiences see themselves from those same heights, see their own mortality and frailty, and want to climb higher, be greater, do better. But while traditional conceptions of the sublime see this process as occurring in flashes, as lightning during a tumultuous storm, Tolkien insists we can have more than that. In his view, we can actually live in a world, if only for a little while, where the sublime is made manifest, where it is as real as rain.

And like Coleridge and MacDonald before him, he insists that these sublime worlds are not merely the playgrounds of children, but the kingdoms of all readers, of any age. He is in agreement with Coleridge about the educational value of fairy-stories. While tepidly approving of fairy tales written specifically for children, he urges that “it may be better for them to read some things, especially fairy-stories, that are beyond their measure rather than short of it. Their books like their clothes should allow for growth, and their books at any rate should encourage it.” But Tolkien is adamant that fantasy or fairy stories (he uses the terms more or less interchangeably) should be read by everyone. “If fairy-story as a kind is worth reading at all it is worthy to be written for and read by adults,” he says, for “they will, of course, put more in and get more out than children can.” (OFS 58).

Tolkien delivered this lecture about two years after publishing The Hobbit, and just as he was beginning to work in earnest on The Lord of the Rings. While the former book is clearly a book for children, the latter effort “grew in the telling,” as he notes in the foreword to the second edition. Fortunately for the reading world, he practiced what he preached in “On Fairy-Stories.” But he did not build this world on sand. Tolkien scholars point to the medieval sources for Tolkien’s world, and rightly so, for these are indeed his secondary world’s bones and sinews. But its life-blood is, I would argue, the imaginative laws... that both create and sustain it. He took his own advice to heart and created a secondary world, Middle Earth, that has captivated and captured the imagination of millions of readers, drawing them into a state of secondary belief that, in some cases, lasts long past the reading of the books.

#Tolkien #Tolkien studies #J.R.R. Tolkien #the sublime #literary criticism #samuel taylor coleridge #suspension of disbelief #George MacDonald #the fantastic sublime #fantasy literature #fantasy genre #on fairy-stories #mythopoesis #mythopoeia #secondary belief #sub-creation

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fugamalefica · 11 months

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For some reason, I only read about Tolkien's Secondary Belief concept a few days ago, and it is completely in alignment with how I have always enjoyed fiction and still do. Suspension of disbelief, on the other hand, has always seemed counterproductive and overly empiricist to me. How are you going to enjoy art to the fullest when you begin with suspension, which is negation, something that takes away rather than add, something temporary, unnatural, and hence, fickle? Why insert the non-fictional world where it does not belong?

Children are capable, of course, of literary belief, when the story-maker's art is good enough to produce it. That state of mind has been called “willing suspension of disbelief.” But this does not seem to me a good description of what happens. What really happens is that the story-maker proves a successful “sub-creator.” He makes a Secondary World which your mind can enter. Inside it, what he relates is “true”: it accords with the laws of that world. You therefore believe it, while you are, as it were, inside. The moment disbelief arises, the spell is broken; the magic, or rather art, has failed. You are then out in the Primary World again, looking at the little abortive Secondary World from outside. If you are obliged, by kindliness or circumstance, to stay, then disbelief must be suspended (or stifled), otherwise listening and looking would become intolerable. But this suspension of disbelief is a substitute for the genuine thing, a subterfuge we use when condescending to games or make-believe, or when trying (more or less willingly) to find what virtue we can in the work of an art that has for us failed.

A real enthusiast for cricket is in the enchanted state: Secondary Belief. I, when I watch a match, am on the lower level. I can achieve (more or less) willing suspension of disbelief, when I am held there and supported by some other motive that will keep away boredom: for instance, a wild, heraldic, preference for dark blue rather than light. This suspension of disbelief may thus be a somewhat tired, shabby, or sentimental state of mind, and so lean to the “adult.” I fancy it is often the state of adults in the presence of a fairy-story. They are held there and supported by sentiment (memories of childhood, or notions of what childhood ought to be like); they think they ought to like the tale. But if they really liked it, for itself, they would not have to suspend disbelief: they would believe—in this sense.

- On Fairy-Stories by J.R.R. Tolkien

I need to read more of his essays.

#fiction #j.r.r. tolkien #Tolkien #on fairy stories #literature #literary essays #lord of the rings #lotr #secondary belief

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thejaymo · 7 months

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Worlds Resemble Other Worlds | 2334

Worlds resemble other worlds and we adopt world(view)s when we recognise them. Some worlds we have agency in, others we don’t. https://www.thejaymo.net/2023/10/20/301-2334-worlds-resemble-other-worlds/

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lmaverick123 · 2 years

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The Loss of Immersion in Gaming

We come to another instance where I am watching a video by someone that I wish would come back to YouTube and post again, MrBTongue, and it got me thinking about something. This time, the video is “TUN: The Elder Scrolls VI – YouTubia.” In it, he talks about the three levels of suspension of disbelief, and it’s really neat stuff. First, we have suspension of disbelief, like how Batman has this…

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#Gaming #Immersion #MrBTongue #Secondary Belief #Suspension of Disbelief

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spotsupstuff · 9 months

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makes me wonder how much of Euros would remain; wrt to the heartbreak ask. sure he wouldn't be the same to begin with because he went through that immense trauma but having your personality rebuild from what little of your biological tissue remains ... something something, are you still you after everything endured,,

you're ruthless man. he loses his woman, he loses his life, now you're gunning it for his identity....

when it comes to the question "are you still you after everything endured?" i like to think yes. because withstanding suffering and pain is part of life and personal evolution. growth. one can Choose to let it destroy them until they are nothing what they used to be, or in a way embrace themselves, that what still stood still through all that agony, and learn from it. being hurt is unfortunately a part of the life journey

the logical question of how much of him would remain when physically reduced to a few neurons, for example, is a little bit more of a headscratcher since such situation is so out of our reach in this world. going the darker way as him being nothing but a shadow of himself is a choice, but so is going the lighter way, because this is all such a fictional idea and understanding

i personally like to think that few neurons would be enough to carry over the Person the Iterator is, as evidenced by Moon. she doesn't even have access to her memories, but i'd argue that she is still so very Her (Spearmaster Moon vs Survivor Moon). sure she doesn't have certain knowledges, but i do personally believe that what makes us Us is in large part thanks to what kind of soul we are born with. that's what really determines and dictates who we are (and then comes how you are raised n all that, that's a whole psychological subject matter which combines with spirituality to me atď atď atď)

so Euros on that basis is still himself. both physically and emotionally, sort of. the question is how he's going to process it, if he will make it through, if he will be strong enough to put in the effort to preserve who is despite the torment he has faced

thankfully... he won't have to face all of that alone. Boreas will hardly just let him fall apart again. Zephyr won't allow him to succumb to the pain either. he has these elders who's lives are Constantly filled with agony that are more than willing to guide him through it. Brook would be still alive and do her best to keep him company, just like NAE even though he'd be all theatrically pissy about it

#spot says stuff #rw #oc tag #that whole question feels like severe doubting of the power of a persons individuality and the nature of living?#theres certainly limits to what can be accepted and turned into life knowledge nothing is ever really absolute but yanno #the technical and logical of ''am i still me if all my parts have been remade'' should be secondary to a persons belief of who and what-#-they are. if you believe you are you. if you feel it you are you. then who can doubt you? nobody else can judge you but you so have-#-faith in who you are. basically is what im thinking

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fellhellion · 9 months

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it's incredibly apt to me that the spiderverse team specifically drew upon brutalism as the primary style for the architecture of spider society because it's a style simultaneously linked to this notion of raw honesty (because you expose the material laying at the core of the structure) + social wellfare (as concrete was relatively cheaper to use and thus you got a lot of cheaper housing utilising this style), egalitarian by nature - it all looks the same, function over form etc.

but it ended up also getting associated with the structural flaws present in social wellfare systems by virtue of where it was applied as well as it being a style that's quite intense by nature (some would even argue ugly fjdfjk), and thus you get people implicitly associating it with those structural flaws and thinking of it as oppressive, even though the movement wasn't like. intentionally trying to cultivate that impression or be utilised in such a way.

which is interesting to me because that kind of duality works perfectly with the kind of tonal shift miles goes through when operating in that environment. spider society is at first wonderous and bright and brilliant, evocative of endless possibilties and stylistically almost like a large concrete web. but when miles is failed by that system, the large concrete web becomes constraining and suffocating.

hell, the idealogical roots of brutalism even work to an extent with the idealogical roots of spider society. neither was cultivated with the active intent to cause harm, and they're both associated with the desire to promote a future that is providing for the people utilsing it, but ultimately it's a tool. and any tool can be one that, inadvertently or otherwise, causes harm.

#the analogy and connections im drawing OF COURSE only extends so far as spider society is moreeee. an anaolgy #for the harm that's perpetuated if you subscribe to belief systems that exclude anomalous traits/experiences #<- and even THAT becomes messy because the very nature of the stakes naturalises that belief system as having legit concerns #but that analogy is also secondary in the story's priorities to providing a lens for the characters to be able to interact w the #suffering in their lives and qustion what purpose it holds - if any #so miles shocking miguel is tonally a celebration of the idea that you should leave systems that fail to support you in the way they should #but it's tonally an endorsement of miles having hope where miguel has succumbed to despair #spiderverse is very fond of using emotional shorthand (this isnt a criticism - its just acknowledgement of what its doing) and i think esp #in a film designed to be understood by teenagers/older kids and w a strict runtime this kind of technique is effective #even if it inherently has some drawbacks (naturalisation of the stakes if youre not careful about how you write the solution to those stake #its trying to say a lot with a broad emotional sweep and thats hard and shit can get lost in the water or implications not accounted for #but hey thats the fun of critical analysis #tunes talks spiderverse #long post

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thetimelordbatgirl · 3 months

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"Why won't everybody just believe everything I believe?"-I would say will the episode proceed to teach Riley about religious freedom and different religions, but we all know this episode proceeds to have Corey also join in on cornering Maya and Farkle into believing what Riley and her family believe, so um, a line that would lead to character development is just used to enforce Riley's belief's as being right and her friends as being wrong.

#pretty sure corey is breaking teacher rules there btw #aka enforcing belief's onto his students #like yeah think we see where riley gets it from now #especially as riley gets her way at the end as maya now believes and shit #and its just....sigh #so many bad secondary school memories from this episode #not only the whole um teacher acting like me not believing fully cause my grandad died despite me praying #was a time to be like 'but have you considered-'#but also the time a teacher got mad a student for not partaking in mass singing because different religion #and despite the school welcoming students of different faiths that teacher still got mad #plus uh the school wasnt great with lgbt+ stuff

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areweevercameraready · 10 months

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snippet two :>

A/N: me: oh no, AO3 is getting DDoS'ed :( and i just finished a chapter of beliefs so I can post another chapter! damn me: me: wait i can post another human chapter

anyways, please stay off AO3 for the time being and here's a post with more information, but they're facing extreme server overloading and opening AO3 pages makes it harder apparently. i don't know, i'm a communicator, not a programmer, so i'm just passing along what i know.

anywho! here's another snippet of the human au i'd been writing. if you would like to read the first part, here is the first snippet, which also has some more background on the au. check here for descriptions of the human au.

this is likely to be the last of this big story i'll be posting. i might post some of the oneshots i have in this au, as i have a few that are sorta unrelated to the plot that i'm comfortable with posting, but...well. we'll see. i finished chapter 13 of more than beliefs so i've 1) begun writing chapter 14 finally and 2) might post chapter 11 soon :D not having anything to do with my life right now is good for catching up on sleep debt and writing fanfiction! yipee!

i hope you enjoy!

Words: 7,265

WARNINGS: having a panic attack and being sad, not much more i don't think but if there is, let me know and i'll make note of it!

(in lieu of a diving image, please take this human au meme LOL)

“So. Bartender. Your name’s Eric, right? That’s what Marl’ said.”

“Mhm,” Eric hummed.

“Thanks for driving them home. Marlowe would’ve flipped tomorrow if he woke up and realized he’d left the car somewhere else. He’s gonna flip either way, though, since the idiot teaches tomorrow morning,” David snickered a little, leaning against the car door in a casual manner.

At the very least, the flippance was making it more evident that David wasn’t, like. Mad at him. Or something. Eric nodded again before remembering that David was now driving. “Uh. Yeah. Would have been a kinda problem.”

“Mm,” David hummed. After a few beats of silence, he added. “You got anything to do tomorrow?”

Tomorrow? Why was he asking? “I, uh, have work at four. At the bar. Other than that, no,” because truthfully, he was only scheduled five days a week at the restaurant.

He tried to get his shifts at the restaurant and his shifts at the bar to not line up, but five days a week at both jobs meant there wasn’t ever a chance of that happening. When he did need a full day off, though, for parent-teacher conferences especially now that Gavin was going to school, he managed to get the exact days precisely. Which was probably because he was so punctual and dependable. Which was what he tried to be. But sometimes, he worried that wouldn’t be enough, so he always clocked the days he’d need two months in advance.

Tomorrow was just a lucky day though, to just have one job and not both. Often they stacked. Sometimes they didn’t.

“Wanna meet up for lunch?” David’s proposition cut through Eric’s tangential thoughts.

He turned to David again now, a slight frown on his lips, before asking, “For lunch?” as if he hadn’t heard properly.

David nodded. “Yep. My treat, for bringing my boys home safe,” he shot Eric another grin. “Also you like, haven’t at all told me where the fuck to go. I’m assuming it’s closer to downtown but unless you just wanna keep driving in circles….”

Fuck. Eric looked out the window for real now, trying to figure out where they were. It was the highway going into town. “You’re going to want to take the Concord exit,” he said.

“Okay,” David said. “But, yeah. Lunch.”

“Lunch,” Eric repeated, quickly averting his eyes back to the dashboard. “You and me and lunch?”

He didn’t really want to look directly at David, but just in case David like. Grabbed him. Or something. Eric wanted to see him in his peripheral. He saw David shrug.

“I mean, yeah. You ever been to Lucy’s on Main? Such a great diner, I used to go with an old girlfriend every night almost,” David pulled off the exit.

“Right. And then left at the, uh….fourth light.”

“Gotcha. Lunch. At Lucy’s on Main?”

Lucy’s on Main wasn’t the fanciest place, but Eric had only been once, and that was for Gavin’s fourth birthday. He liked their theming, even though it wasn’t an actual children’s diner or anything, and Eric was never one to deny his brother when he asked for something achievable.

If he could, he’d get Gavin the world. Snatch it right out of God’s hand

Going there with a stranger, though….if David wasn’t dating like, at least two other people, Eric would be worried this was a flirt attempt. And he wasn’t really in the mood to be romantic. He kinda wanted therapy first? And he hadn’t thought about romance in a while, not since his boyfriend in high school. Now he was an adult with responsibilities, he couldn’t just ditch school and smoke weed by the train station with Schmidt.

This was just some guy being thankful, though, right? And he wasn’t doing anything tomorrow….and the idea of food, especially free food, was pretty enticing. A guaranteed meal would be nice. And at this point, he didn’t think this was going to be a trap. He knew Lucy’s on Main. He wasn’t...this was awkward, but it wasn’t like he was going to get mugged or anything.

The silence dragged, just a bit, and David sighed. “If you wanna say no, you can. I just know this’ probably way outta your ways, and you seem like you’re not gonna kill me and steal my car, so it’d be nice to hang out once and say thanks.” David sounded tired, too.

Though that explanation was pretty straight forward. Eric nodded slowly in something like understanding. If David was worried Eric was going to be mugging him, and Eric was worried that David was going to be mugging him….well, he could just be saying this to get his guard down. Eric knew he consistently looked like his guard was up, more often willing to fight than he wasn’t, but maybe that was off-putting here. Maybe he was the scary one, here.

Ah, the mom friend override.

“No, I, uh. That’d be cool,” Eric said, then cleared his throat and continued. “Thanks for the offer. Would noon work?”

“Yeah, sure,” David smiled as he took the turn onto Concord Avenue. “Meet you there?”

“Sure,” Eric said. “You can pull over anywhere on this block.”

He gestured out the window. His building was maybe two blocks down, but, well. He didn’t want to take this dude all the way to his apartment.

Did he?

No, no he didn’t. Also, his days of one night stands were like, two years long gone. Eric wasn’t about to bring a whole adult (WITH TWO BOYFRIENDS, MIND YOU, AT LEAST TWO) to his tiny apartment at almost four in the morning with his kid brother sleeping in the same bedroom. Like, sure as fuck that wasn’t happening. Regardless of how pretty David looked in the moonlight.

Yeah, he was tired as fuck if he was just going to start mentally waxing poetic about how pretty these boys were. Eric looked around at the car, out the window, then back at David. Who was watching him with a smile ever so slight, almost knowing, almost cocky.

“What, you want a goodnight’s kiss too?” he joked.

Eric snorted, shaking his head. “Nah, I’m just….” Confused.

This was all so much, in one night.

He had a hundred fuckin’ dollars in his pocket?

And David’s boyfriend’s phone number? This dude just drove him home, too, for nothing, and was going to take him out to lunch tomorrow?

“This’ a lot more social interaction in one day than I get most months,” Eric joked, almost confessed really, and shrugged. “It’s also four in the morning.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” David looked at the clock and pulled a face, as if he’d just noticed the time.

Wouldn’t that be a riot? What the fuck was he doing awake, even? Eric snorted, hiding his eyes behind a hand as he laughed. “Stop no, it’s too-it’s too early for this,” he said between laughs as David began to chuckle a little himself.

“Damn right. You head home, get to bed, and make sure you’re up at at LEAST noon!” David waved at Eric as he got out of the car, into the night air.

It nipped at his nose, much colder than he thought it’d be. Granted, he thought he’d still be warm from the bar, too. Eric turned around, waving at David as he whipped a completely not-legal U-turn in the middle of the road, then headed back where he came. It looked like David was going to wait until Eric got into a building, which was kind of nice of him, but once Eric stood still and waved, he hit the reverse. Which was also fair. And also part of Eric’s plan.

He didn’t exactly….Now okay, tomorrow morning this was all going to register as flirting. Eric was going to take off his shirts and lay down in his bed and watch Gavin sleep for maybe fifteen minutes before passing out himself out of just exhaustion while wearing his bartending slacks and without actually being beneath his pillows. He was going to not think about the implications behind the three men’s actions until tomorrow morning, while making breakfast, and he was going to be quiet enough in thought for Gavin to ask if he’d done something wrong while they were on their drive to school.

“No, Gav, you’re fine. Peachy, actually, sweet pea,” Eric said, while he and Gavin waited at a stop light.

Gavin was supposed to hold the motorcycle’s safety restraints while they drove, but more often than not he ended up holding Eric. He had his own safety jacket and belt buckles, which Eric installed as soon as he found out they were a thing. He’d gotten the bike before he’d gotten Gavin, and he wasn’t giving the bike away.

“What’re you sad about?” the kid asked.

The light was still red, so Eric leaned one arm back and gave Gavin one of their bike hugs. Positioning was always awful, but Gavin knew the drill, so he snuggled his helmeted head beneath Eric’s arm for a moment and hugged him tighter.

Now, though, how to like. Explain this to the four year old.

“A friend asked to go to lunch together today,” was what Eric landed on.

Gavin gasped, excitement filling his voice in a way that almost made Eric feel bad. “A friend?! Yay!”

“Yeah, a friend. I’ve got those,” Eric joked.

“Daddy’s got one friend,” Gavin said with his own snicker, and Eric laughed, too.

“Daddy’s got more than one friend,” he said, and for a moment, thinking about the phone number written on the bill at home, he meant it.

Gavin seemed happy with that explanation and with those jokes, and Eric was as happy as he’d let himself be. He dropped Gavin off and promised to pick him up later, told him to have a good day, that he loved him.

Kid’s school got out at 1:38, which would be a fair reason to leave lunch, if it got like. Unbearably awkward. Which was a real possibility, if you asked Eric. Wasn’t last night awkward enough? This dude really saw Eric at his normal messiest states at four in the morning and decided that the best decision was to spend even more time with him. Granted, he was in his pajamas last night, and he seemed pretty out of it, too. It might be nice to have a real conversation outside of being ground into dust levels of tired.

Also, it wasn’t Eric’s worst, and he thought he’d held it together pretty well considering the outlandish circumstances. In nearly any other case, he would have gone running for the hills at the mention of having lunch alone together with a stranger, or even being handed a bill with a fucking phone number on it. He’d been hit on at the bar before; everyone likes the stoic type bartender, until he starts rejecting advances. Then he gets the drink thrown on him and slurs thrown his way, which like, really? The owner’s queer and they think it’s going to be okay to say slurs? Idiots. Eric knew it was a situation better than that kind of shit, but he didn’t know what made him say yes to these advances. Something about the genuine-ness of it all, maybe.

And these like. Were definitely advances. There were no ifs, ands, or buts. He didn’t process it fully last night, but now that the lunch date was starring him in the face, he could see it for what it was: a date.

Three people, though. That was three extra people to disappoint. And, if he really thought about it, Eric didn’t know if he could, like….handle that. On an emotional level but also on an anxiety level.

Still, to not show up to lunch and flake would be rude, and he may be a coward but he was anything but rude.

Eric took some time between dropping off Gavin and heading to the date to prepare. He had tried while putting his hair up, a looser ponytail rather than the pinned bun he had for either of his jobs. Usually, he’d’ve preferred to keep it down, but. Well. It got everywhere. It was kinda scraggly, probably 90% split ends. Good to have it out of the way.

He threw on a quick t-shirt, a pair of black jeans, and his regular leather jacket. If this was really just lunch, then it was a one and done kind of situation. Not much else for him to do, other than lay down and try to nap for an hour before heading out.

Lucy’s on Main was fairly crowded for lunch on a weekday, in Eric’s opinion. People were waiting outside when he got there. And he didn’t see David waiting amongst them, so he put his own name down for a table and went to go stand outside. There was a couple sitting on the bus stop bench, though. Smoking. It’d been a few years since he managed to kick his nicotine addiction, but he wasn’t exactly fond of the scent of smoke anymore, so after a moment of taking in the wind and hyping himself up to talk to a stranger, a whole ass stranger, he went back in.

And that was when he heard a “YO! ERIC!”

Eric jumped, turning around towards the inside of the diner. Most of the tables were filled, and one had a guy with his arms up, waving him down. Literally. Waving him down.

“HEY!” David called out.

Eric saw him crack a smile as he recognized him, as Eric waved back just a little. They were turning heads a bit. Just a bit.

He told the host that he was with “that guy” and made his way over, sliding into the seat opposite David. And he tried to kind of avoid looking at him, because being yelled at across a public space was never something Eric was too fond of. As soon as he sat down, though, David waved in his face.

“‘Sup, Harley,” David said. “Nice bike.”

“Thanks.” Eric looked up, briefly, then froze. And looked up again.

David’s hair was down, though it’d been brushed and was pinned back with a bobby pin or two. He was wearing a puffy varsity jacket and a t-shirt underneath, the varsity jacket covered in patches that seemed to be hand-sewn on. There was a pin, too, on the jacket’s collar, with the inclusive rainbow. Cute. His glasses were cute, too, framing his face in a way that made his smile look a bit wider as he also looked over eric.

He….Well. In last night’s dark, he hadn’t really caught what David actually looked like. He was smaller than Eric but they had similar styles almost. There was something comforting casual about David’s posture, though, and in the way he leaned back against the booth’s seat.

Surrounded by hot men. Eric turned away as the waitress came over, hoping he wasn’t blushing as much as he thought he was, and ordered himself a plate of fries. Before she left, David interrupted.

“Nah, you can order more, dude. I’m paying,” he reached over and motioned towards the waitress. “Get a milkshake at least, Lucy’s shakes’re the fucking best.”

Now, Eric didn’t really want to be wasting someone else’s money, and the plate of fries was definitely more than he’d been planning on having today. But David was watching him. And Eric couldn’t really say no. Not when he was being watched like this. A burger did sound good, too, but….

God, he didn’t want to make David spend money on him. Eric stuffed his hands into his pockets slowly, playing with the edge of his phone’s case. “Can I, uh. Can I get a chocolate shake, too?” he asked.

“M’kay,” the waitress said with a knowing smile.

“And make his fries the bigger size! I’ll steal some,” David grinned at the waitress, who chuckled at his antics but wrote down the change.

And then she left.

Eric leaned back in the seat, and he didn’t really know what to feel. In a weird way, it was good that David just started to converse, then and there.

“Like I said, cool bike. What kind is it?” he said, as if he knew of it.

“Uh,” oh, jeez, the bike. “It’s a 2005 Night Train.”

“Sheesh, a Night Train! And she’s still running? Do you do your own maintenance?”

“I, uh. Yeah. Yeah, I do. Maintenance and modifications.”

And that got him talking. Which, like. Was hard. On standard, getting him to converse was hard. But then David mentioned his old bike, how he used to have a 2002 Softail Deuce, how he always found it hard to maintain. Well, ‘course it’s hard to maintain if you don’t keep checking on it, especially after not riding it for a bit. Eric installed the second seat and had to buy her new brakes, just in case and to help with smoother rides.

He talked about how he kept his parts and mechanical tools in a case in his apartment. Usually he’d keep it stuffed under the coffee table, better than leaving it out in the garage.

David said it was cool, that he knew enough to maintain the bike himself. Yeah, Eric just liked keeping up with it and making sure he knew enough about it. He didn’t know any mechanics in the area well enough to trust them to actually take care of it as well as he could. Plus, if anything went wrong, he’d know what the situation was. He liked knowing that.

It was nice, to talk to someone about these things. Eric didn’t notice his tension easing up with David. It was almost natural.

David mentioned having a bike. What did he do with it? He had to get rid of it, he didn’t take good enough care of it. Sold it to someone before he moved out here. He’s originally from Michigan but relocated for work, since it’s better to be near a lot of galleries. Selling the bike helped pay for life after college.

What did he work in? Art. He worked most in oils, something like a modern impressionist kind of painting. The big one was sculpting. He liked to chisel, but marble was kind of hard to come by. He’d gotten into wood carving, though, since the house was nearby a forest. He’d take down a tree somewhere on their property, replant a few saplings, then bring it in pieces into his workshop to carve. It was in the basement, but they’d set up a ventilation system well enough. He did like painting realism sometimes, as a hobby, though.

Eric didn’t know anything about art. He would love to see his works, one day.

Well you could swing by. I don’t think anyone’d be home to mind. If you wanna hang out some more.

“Who’s home?” Eric asked then, almost confused.

David blinked at him a few times, trying to process what was confusing, before realization entered his face and he snapped his fingers. “Shit, yeah. I’m supposed to….yeah. So, uh. Me and the boys wanted to get to know you more. ‘S why Princey and Marl’ were at your bar.”

“Oh.” What? Who the fuck are the boys? “Who’re the boys?”

“You’re gay, right? Just want to clear that up, ‘cause this is about to be so fuckin’ awkward if you’re straight.” David sipped his milkshake expectantly while Eric made a face, and before Eric even answered, David snickered. “Sorry, dumb question, you don’t need to be gay to like, get this. I dunno if anyone told you directly, but Phillip and Marlowe and I, and Cadence, and another dude you haven’t met named Draco, we’re all in a relationship. Poly, gay, all that. We’re all in a relationship.

“And like, we aren’t gonna reel you into a relationship with all of us. Cadence just said you were nice, so’d Marlowe and Phillip,” David put his hands up—Eric’s face must have been some kind of slack jawed, but he was more trying to decipher what David was saying than paying attention to himself. “We thought it’d be cool to meet you. Well. I thought it’d be cool. Like, as friends and stuff. And like, we move like a pack. I don’t wanna speak for the others on what they’re thinking, but I just wanted to make sure you knew like, this isn’t a date, not for me. But like, I dunno. You’ve got everyone’s interest now.

“So if you’re like, wondering why a bunch of randos’re meeting up with you out of nowhere, it’s because you seem cool and we all share one braincell that befriends people at the same time. We all wanna meet you. I dunno what everyone’s specific desires are past that, I just kinda wanna get to know you, but I think we could be friends. That’d be cool.” David leaned back, indicating the end of his explanation, and picked up his almost empty milkshake to sip from as Eric digested all of that new information.

“Oh. Okay,” Eric’s voice sounded hollow, even to himself.

Was that like getting stalked? Was he just getting stalked now, but a frat house of gay dudes? Was that what was happening? He didn’t know. His ears were kind of ringing a little as he tried to process that.

So he’d run into a gaggle of dudes who wanted to be his friend. All of them? They’d talked about him—of course they’d talked about him.

One of them was fucking famous? Eric didn’t know what being friends with a famous person was like, but he didn’t want cameras in his face all the time if that’s what it meant.

Was he even good enough for that? Eric wouldn’t have considered himself friendship material for any regular person, not to mention multiple people at once, one of whom was famous.

He had a lot of concerns, off the bat.

“It’s kinda a lot to explain. Mostly, we’re just gonna be annoying, since you seem cool and we wanna be friends. If that’s okay,” David said. “That okay?”

What would they want out of him? He didn’t have money. He barely had a personality, if you asked him. There wasn’t anything really to gain from being his friend.

Why the fuck were these people interested in him?

Eric barely heard him. He just. Starred. For a moment.

That was when Eric became acutely aware of where they were. Of who he was talking to. That this was...well, it was a casual conversation, but a proposition to come home. He had to—he checked his phone, it was 1:10, holy fuck. He had to pick up Gavin soon. Like, now even. He had to go.

He had to go.

He just had to.

“Okay. I,” what was he doing here, what did they want out of him? There was no way— “I need to go.”

David raised his eyebrows but said nothing of it. His smile faded. “Okay. Go ahead, I’m handling the bill,” his voice was a lot more gentle now, as if the fervor he’d spoken with earlier had been sapped out of his bones.

Eric almost missed it.

He’d been lulled into a false sense of security, out of talking about fucking motorcycles and art. He stood, one fast motion that is more abrupt than he should be, and turned down the hall. He could apologize. David seemed nice. So did Phillip. Marlowe. Cadence maybe even. It might be nice, to talk to some more people, to get to know them.

Gavin had said earlier that he had a friend. He could stick his neck out there. Reach out to people. He had a phone number. He could turn around and talk to David right now.

David had looked real sad when Eric left.

Instead, he walked down the hall and out the door. He tried his best to breathe evenly, because panic driving the bike was never smart, and in doing so he just. Swallowed. His feelings.

Eric took a big gulp of air, actually, and grabbed his bike’s helmet. Already, he was just zoning out. He was going to go pick up Gavin! Then, he was gonna make sure the kid was doing his homework. And then he had a shift at the bar.

What would they even say about Gavin?

He revved the bike’s engine and pulled out of the parking lot without looking back.

His brain was static empty by the time he pulled into the parking lot at Gavin’s school, a whole ten minutes early. He didn’t have to leave that fast. But he couldn’t just stay there. What would he do? Go back and talk to David? Face that kind of unknown? He...he couldn’t. He’d stormed out like something was wrong, and wouldn’t David be mad for that? He didn’t know him much anyways. He didn’t owe him anything, either.

If only he could convince the guilt weighing in his stomach the same thing.

When the school bell rang, Eric perked up, taking Gavin’s helmet out from where it gets hooked and clipped onto the back seat. He drummed his fingers against the top.

His kid came bursting out from around the portables, running around to where Eric usually parked. Gavin threw his arms up in the air when he saw Eric, so Eric threw his arms up as well. He climbed off the bike and squatted down, holding his arms open enough for Gavin to launch himself into a hug.

They did this just about every day and Eric didn’t see himself ever getting tired of it. Gavin snuggled his face against Eric’s shoulder and shouted “HI THIEF!”

“Hey, kiddo,” Eric said with a sigh. The nickname was a dour one, but it was hard to train Gavin out of it. He’d gotten upset about enough things, today, and he was waiting until they got home to do something about the rising panic he was literally just barely tamping down.

He helped Gavin onto the motorcycle’s seat, strapping him in while he asked how school had gone. It was a Thursday. Gavin had math tests on Thursday, which he loved. They were doing fifty in a minute with addition, which the teacher said Gavin was really good at. Better than reading time, since he was bad at focusing. The teacher suggested he get Gavin checked for reading disorders or attention disorders. But Eric didn’t have the money for something like that.

Still, it was nice hearing Gavin talk about how happy he was to finish the fifty. He was the first one done. “You’re such a smarty pants,” Eric joked, patting his hand on Gavin’s helmet once he got it strapped on.

“Mm,” Gavin frowned at that one, then shrugged. “Not really. I just like the numbers.”

“You’re good at the numbers, too,” Eric reminded him as he sat himself back down, too. “What homework do you have tonight?”

“Wait wait, but I wanted to know,” Gavin grabbed Eric’s sides, balling his hands up around him. “How did lunch go?”

Lunch.

Gavin was asking about. About how lunch went. Eric was really glad he wasn’t looking at him, because there’s no way he could have hidden how much his face fucking fell at the question.

“It, uh. Went alright.” Eric put his own helmet on, not turning around to see Gavin. “I’ve got work tonight, so I’m going to cook dinner when we get home, and you’ve gotta do your homework. Okay?”

He didn’t want to talk to his four year old brother, of all people, about that travesty of a date. It wasn’t even a date. It fucking felt like a date.

He didn’t want to hang out with anyone. He didn’t even want to have to talk to any of them, not if they were going to all pile up on him and what if anyone ever started taking offense to him? He didn’t want to join their group. And he probably wasn’t even good enough for it.

He didn’t want to think about how he’d walked out on David.

Shut the fuck up about it, Eric. You’ve gotta go for a bit of a drive. Then you get to panic about this.

“Okay,” Gavin’s voice was quiet, a little sad. Probably because Eric wasn’t answering his question. Usually Eric gave him an explanation before a nonanswer. But he didn’t need to. And Gavin wouldn’t understand. Eric could think of a thousand reasons why not to talk to Gavin about that.

“It’s fine,” Eric said, as if he could comfort Gavin with that harsh statement. And he revved his engine before he could hear Gavin’s response, if any.

The drive was quick. Some kinda force must have been on Eric’s side because every light was coming up green. He parked the bike in his unit’s garage and Gavin hopped off fast, beating Eric to the door, and disappeared inside.

Usually that was a surefire sign the kid was upset, but at the moment, Eric couldn’t really find it in himself to care. Nor fault him, really. Eric was on edge, was being pretty unreasonable.

On the flip side, he had to make dinner. It was 2 p.m. and he had to be at work at 4, so he had to leave at 3:30, and he had to make sure Gavin was doing homework. A conversation like this could take hours. He didn’t have that kind of time. And he’d have to understand himself why this was all happening. Why he was doing this. What was so terrifying.

Eric didn’t have the time nor the energy to confront that. So he wasn’t going to.

Quietly, he trudged into the kitchen, jumping when the door to the bedroom slams closed. Gavin, most likely. He usually did his homework in the kitchen, but, well…

Eric slung his jacket over one of the kitchen chairs and went to work cooking. It was always a tossup, leaving Gavin home alone. He was a smart kid. Eric told him not to touch the stove or the oven or touch any of the knives on their stand, and Gavin had never done anything like that. Eric also would punch in his phone number on the landline phone and colored in the “call” button with green sharpie. If anything happened, Gavin knew to just hit the green button. That’d call Eric, and he could always get home within ten minutes. If anything super bad happened, Gavin knew to hide in the closet. All of the neighbors on their floor had been asked, please, to call him if something happened to the building or his unit.

That was the best he could do, really. He didn’t have the money nor knew anyone well enough to let them watch Gavin. Once, he tried to leave Gavin with the neighbors, but he’d somehow escaped their apartment and gone back to Eric’s. The kid was attached, the neighbor had explained. And Eric didn’t really want anyone watching him in their apartment, when he wouldn’t be there.

Sometimes, the kid will do the dishes for him. Once, Eric was pretty sure Gavin cut his hand while trying to wash a knife, but Gavin said a bully got his arm caught on a door hinge in a fight. That was a specific enough lie that worried Eric that maybe both had happened. Poor kid had to deal with living with him, bullies on top of that?

He made pasta with some marinara sauce. It was a solid batch, and if Gavin didn’t finish it, then Eric would have some. He’d already eaten more than enough at lunch, though. And he was used to being hungry by now.

He stared at the cooking pasta with a blank expression.

Once dinner was ready, Eric checked the clock. Twenty minutes before he had to leave. Which was pretty standard for him, save for how he now had to go into the room where Gavin was hiding so he could change. He wasn’t about to go out in what he’d consider his nice clothes, to a bar where he could get thrown up on.

He stopped in front of the door. And took a breath.

“Dinner’s ready whenever you want it, Gav,” Eric said, voice soft as he also knocked on the door. “Can I come in? I’ve gotta get changed to go to work.”

“Sure,” came the soft reply.

Eric braced himself internally, pursing his lips a bit as he pushed open the door and peeked in. Gavin was curled up in his bed, backpack and shoes kicked off on the ground besides it. The blanket was pulled over his head, probably curled up into a ball under the sheets.

He could just throw off his clothes and change real fast. But Eric only got his shirt off before Gavin’s head popped out.

“Did your lunch make you sad?” he asked.

The question made Eric freeze. Part of him wanted to turn around, growl at the child to shut the fuck up and stop asking. It would be easier, to be cruel. But he could never...he didn’t want to be his parents, and when the kid was worried about him? That kind of idiot’d do that.

“A little,” Eric responded, trying to swallow the guilt that arose when he was reminded of how sad David had looked, how his smile had disappeared in the instant Eric stood up.

“Does Thief not have any more friends?”

Eric put on a black t-shirt and started taking off his jeans. “My name isn’t Thief, baby,” he tried to keep his tone level.

Gavin wilted a little. He hated it when Eric reminded him, but Eric hated that name, and it was going to be better to train Gavin out of it now rather than later. “Sorry, Daddy. But did your friend make you sad?”

He sighed. Persistent fucking kid.

Too good for Eric, always worried about him. Sometimes, Eric wondered if Gavin got that from him, too. Always just a little too worried for it to be healthy.

He heard Gavin flinch back into the sheets, so he turned back around. Gently, Eric scooped Gavin up, blankets and sheets and all, and kissed his forehead. “A little,” he answered. “He was a new friend. I don’t think he meant to make me sad.”

“Okay.” Gavin snuggled a little more into Eric’s arms, and he felt Gavin hold onto his shirt. “Did you make him sad?”

Heh. “A little. We were both a little sad,” Eric gave him a squeeze, rocking slowly. “It’s okay, though. Sometimes you make yourself sad. Sometimes other people get sad. Being sad is okay. It’s—”

“It’s about what you do after you’re sad,” Gavin finished. Probably excited he remembered it. Kid’s always been bad at focusing, anyway.

It’s something Eric’s told him before, quite a few times. He wished he could hide his panic and depression and honest despair from Gavin, but in a two room apartment? He didn’t want to leave the kid alone in the apartment, too. As little as he could. Gavin had seen him panic and Eric had pulled himself together to stop Gavin from worrying too much. The three year old kid had too big of a heart in him for Eric to keep making him sad, too. And now he was four.

“Yep, you’ve got it. Smart baby.” Eric lifted him as Gavin reached his arms up, giving him a tight hug around his neck and shoulders.

Gavin’s arm went around his head at that weird angle, where it was the only place where his arms could feasibly wrap around. “Are you gonna make it better?”

“I’m gonna try.”

That seemed to be good enough for Gavin, because he gave Eric a kiss on the forehead, too, and then made a motion to go down. So Eric set him back down on the bed, ruffled his hair, and went back to changing his pants.

“I set up dinner on the table, it’s noodles.” He always tried to get the ones that looked like sea shells, because Gavin thought they were fun. “After dinner, you can leave your plate on the kitchen counter and do homework at the table. I’ll be back before bed time, okay?”

Shift was supposed to be shorter today; he’d be off at 9, and it wasn’t like it was that long of a walk.

“Okay!” Gavin waved his hands. “Have fun! I love you!”

Eric, clothes changed and keys in hand, waved back. “I love you too!”

He closed the door to the apartment, locked it from the outside, and hurried down the stairs. “I’m gonna try,” he mumbled again, quiet to himself.

The phone number.

Eric still had the bill in his other pants’ pocket. He never took it out.

It’d been a while since he, like. Had friends. And had to socialize.

David likely told all of them that Eric had just walked out on him. He didn’t know what they thought of him.

But he had to try. Right?

At the very least, Phillip had seemed nice. Phillip had seemed like he knew what Eric’s anxiety looked like. And maybe that’d be….

Eric could try. There wasn’t a harm in that.

Work went smoothly, both works. No one went too crazy at the bar and Eric left when the next shift lead came, just in time to catch Gavin brushing his teeth before bed. He’d managed to tuck the kid in, clean the kitchen, and even managed to fall asleep at a reasonable time. When he woke up, he took Gavin to school, then immediately went to his second job. Things were going well and, when he dropped off Gavin, the kid had wished him good luck in calling his friend.

Eric held onto that until his lunch break at his other job. During lunch break, he went across the street to a coffee shop, ordered a dirty chai, and took his phone out. He’d taken a photo of the bill’s phone number, wasn’t about to wave a hundred dollar bill around in public, but the picture was good enough.

Here goes...well. Nothing, really. Everything. And nothing.

Just call the damn number.

His finger hit the call button before he could think any more about it, and he waited.

It took two rings for Phillip to pick up.

“Hello?” he asked.

“Hi.”

That was when Eric realized he had no fucking idea what he was going to say. What, was he calling to say sorry? This was Phillip’s number, not David’s. Did he want to hang out with Phillip? What do adults do when they quote hang out unquote. He didn’t want to do anything that’d involve money too much, he wasn’t able to pay for a dinner or something. Did he even want to meet up with him, in person? And he had so many questions about the arrangement, of the what, five men in a relationship thing. Did all of them want to talk to him? Why?

“Oh, Eric. Hello! I ha-I hadn’t expected you to call,” Phillip laughed a little, a sound that eased the tension off his shoulders. “Are you...What did you want to ta-to talk about?”

His voice sounded light. That was good. He didn’t sound mad.

“I, uh. I just wanted to….”

There was a pause. So Eric just took another sip of his coffee and said, quickly, “Did you want to go to a museum? Or hang out or something?”

A museum.

Eric hadn’t been to a single museum in the whole fucking city.

What the fuck was he thinking.

Phillip must have either pitied him or was picking up what he was trying to suggest, because that was when he responded, “Oh! If you want to-to walk around and ta-talk, we could go to the-the university’s botanical gardens.”

Botanical gardens? And walking around might be nice. Eric’s never been to the gardens. To be honest, he didn’t know they existed, and also didn’t go to the city’s university. It was a little farther away from the downtown and it wasn’t like he got an education past high school level anyway.

He’d always wanted to go into mechanics, what with working on the bike and all. It just never worked out.

Flowers seemed nice.

“Sure! That, uh, I’ve never been but that sounds nice,” he said.

“They are qui-quite pleasant,” Phillip hummed quietly, then added. “If you don’t mind, would it be alright if I exte-ex-ex-if I invited Cadence as well?”

Cadence. Cadence, the famous one?

“Is he, uh….is he allowed to like….” Eric, frankly, had no idea what protocol was around famous people. “Sure?”

Phillip chuckled quietly, just quiet enough for the phone to pick it up, and said, “He’s definitely allowed to be in publi-public, if that’s your worry. Being famous doesn’t make it illegal to be in places. He’d wanted to see you again, but, well. Bars are cro-cro-crowded. If you want, I won’t.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Sure. I’d, uh. That’s cool.”

Why did he sound like an awkward teen? Why did this sound like asking someone out to prom? Eric was going to lose his mind.

Thankfully and graciously, Phillip seemed to understand his plight. David must have spread the word of him being an anxious mess because, to some extent, Phillip was planning this date for him.

Not a date. Just hanging out. Still weird for him, but markedly less weird.

“When’s the next weekday you’re free?” Phillip asked.

It wasn’t that hard of a question. “Monday,” Eric responded.

He didn’t have either job. Well, that was a lie, but he was picking up another late shift at the bar. He didn’t have to be there until eleven.

“Great. Monday at ten?”

“Works for me,” Eric said.

Phillip hummed in approval.

Eric almost wanted to ask about David. If Phillip heard. Things had been going well, for the most part, until David explained the polycule situation. And something about that had just made Eric’s chest seize.

That was so many people to disappoint. They’d discussed him. Eric never liked being the point of discussion, for any people. So the idea that this group of people who were all dating had talked about him to the point that the others wanted to meet him was surreal.

Plus, he couldn’t help but be wary of the insinuation that they just wanted to be friends with him. Phillip was very regal, pretty and polished. Cadence was so fucking handsome it was unfair. David had been handsome as well, beautiful in a casual way. Eric was too fucking gay for this. He hadn’t seen Marlowe in much other than lowlight, and while the dude was drunk, but even then Eric could tell the dude was adorable. It was un-fucking-fair.

There was a….worry, deeper down. That while they might not want him in a romantic way, he’s just going to be a nervous gay wreck the whole time.

“See you then, then, Eric,” Phillip’s voice held something of a smirk, and then he hung up.

Eric lowered the phone, starred at the call screen for a moment or two before things began to click on his head. He was going to hang out with Phillip. And Cadence.

They didn’t hate him.

That was a good start.

#human au #eric #david #gavin #phillip #the story #i love these so much gkjgksjgkjldkjgkjlgkjgh #right now im working on a story like this one but for macbeth joining since he's the last one to #and i kinda wanna design or draw the secondary characters in the human world #maybe ill make a comic series of it #if i do ill keep it on this blog since this is much more an OC blog #thats what i made it for after all #i wanna draw a new icon tho because that gavin is kinda old lmaoooooo #but i have a special timing when i wanna do that #:) excited for more beliefs

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girldraki · 22 days

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#thsi is the same demon that whispers in our ear YOU SHOULD GO ON HRT. BECAUSE A LOT OF PEOPLE ONLINE SAID IT FIXED MOST OF THEIR PROBLEMS

thinking about this previously we have come to the unfortunate conclusion that there is like no way to talk about this issue that does not sound extremely like we are in denial and need to be talked into it but this is just, like, the world's least helpful intrusive thought for us

#Even making htis post makes it sound like we are in denial-- secondary obsession matrix -- but it's just An Issue we deal with sobs #Very often it'll come up with opposite gendered headmates because oooh you're secretly just a horrifying ciphered version #of the transness we CAN experience you're a monument to our internalized and terrible beliefs and you woudl love being the other gender etc #deeply unhelpful!#txt

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amuseoffyre · 9 months

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I was watching the bts videos yesterday including the making of the opening credits and Mr. Anderson said “We added plaques to the back of chairs and Neil chose who to honour on them”.

He’s referring to the chairs we briefly see in the theatre where Aziraphale is doing his magic act:

Left to right: A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and The Crow Road by Iain Banks.

I want to focus on these three in a row specifically because Neil chose to put those books there in that order and I had something of an epiphany last night about it all when insomnia was chewing on my toes.

These three books have also been mentioned out loud in the show in episode 2 when Gabriel is reorganising the shelves:

“It was the day my grandmother exploded” - The Crow Road

“It is a truth universally acknowledged-” - Pride and Prejudice

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” - A Tale of Two Cities

For those unfamiliar with the books, I’ll do a quick potted summary of each, with a focus on why I think they’re relevant and especially why the order of the chairs in the theatre feels relevant.

A Tale of Two Cities

Set during the French revolution with one lead who is an aristocrat who has stepped away from his class and background to support the less fortunate than himself because he disagrees with the way they did things. Also, he changed his name because he doesn’t want to be associated with the place where he came from.

The big culmination of the books is when said man is betrayed and set to be executed, but his friend takes his place. There is very literally a body swap by someone who looks very like him in order to save his life. This body-swap is done out of love.

aka - season 1.

Pride and Prejudice

Two people from very different class backgrounds have a very very bumpy start to their relationship because of misinterpretation, miscommunication and a lot of external pressure put on them by the rules of their respective societies. Both of them have different information and because of that, both of them are seeing exactly the same situation very differently. One of them tries to express his affection, but does it so badly that the other tells him there is no chance she will join him.

aka - season 2

The Crow Road

A young man tries to solve a mystery of someone’s disappearance using only the papers they left behind, with said young man’s background rooted in faith and belief in a higher power. There’s also a secondary plot about emotional growth into a more mature and more fulfilling relationship.

(And wouldn’t you know it, it’s the book handed to Muriel by Crowley, who tells them they’ll like it, and the Metatron comments on it)

aka - season 3

Needless to say, I am quite excited :)

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens meta

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ghcstao3 · 3 months

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i’m still of the belief that ghost was of a slight build when he was younger and only filled out once he joined the military, where exercise was frequent—necessary—and food was steady. ghost might’ve made a good track athlete, if he had the will. what with his long legs and lean runner’s frame. but he’s almost unrecognizable from his younger self, now, and for the better. it separates him further from a past he doesn’t remember all that fondly.

soap, on the other hand, has always been on the stocky side. building muscle came easy to him, and he’d made a particularly good rugby player in secondary. for him, joining the military was the only logical career path for his athleticism and drive to prosper, and so it does. he just refines his strength and gains a better sense of himself.

#simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #headcanons

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starastrologyy · 2 months

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Astrology observations 🍒

My chart readings are still opened for those interested :) reviews are on my masterlist that is pinned to my profile 🤍

Something so interesting I’ve observed with Neptune conjunct the composite Ascendant is that the couple tend to be very forgiving of one another. However, there can be the inclination to engage in excessive drinking, gambling, or drug use together (if there are no mitigating factors).

It is not uncommon to begin dating someone new when your solar return Sun & Venus are in the Solar Return 5th house. Ideally, you want to have both to increase the chances. You want to look at the 7th house for a more long-term connection. However, it is possible for a relationship that begins in a 5th house centered solar return year to progress if there are aspects made to Saturn!

A “9th house heavy” solar return almost always indicates that a significant form of study or trip will present itself during that year. Some people may decide to enroll in college for the first time or others may even return to college in such a year. Alternatively, this could be a year in which your religious, political, or philosophical beliefs are highlighted.

It’s not uncommon to see individuals who have their Midheaven in Virgo, or the ruler of their Midheaven in the 6th house end up working in the health & wellness industries. These people can be drawn to personal training, nutrition or the healthcare industry.

If you have the ruler of your 7th house in the 9th. You may find that you have the tendency to attract long distance relationships or foreign partners.

Chiron or Neptune transiting the 6th or 10th houses are two planets I often see activated when a person is having trouble in their vocational sphere. Job losses or disillusionment pertaining to one’s career can often emerge during these transits.

Secondary Progressions are such an underrated predictive technique! You want to look out for when your progressed planets change signs, when the progressed moon enters a new house, or when there’s a progressed new or full moon! This is because these all often coincide with significant life events, this is especially true when it comes to the occurrence of a progressed new moon!

In synastry, when someone’s Mars falls into your 10th house they can motivate you to achieve your career goals and ambitions. However, if Mars is harshly aspected, this person can have a negative impact on your reputation, career, and the pursuit of your worldly ambitions.

You can expect to see a significant amount of advancement or abundance in your career in a year where your solar return Saturn or Jupiter trines the solar return midheaven!

Interestingly, you may experience sudden weight gain or weight loss when your Solar Return Uranus makes a conjunction to your Solar Return Ascendant! Alternatively, this could just mean that you decide to make an unexpected change to your physical appearance! This can be getting a new hairstyle or changing your wardrobe!

If you have your part of fortune in the 3rd or the 11th house you may find success with an online blog, sales, or anything involving the use of technology & social media!

Those with the ruler of their Midheaven in the 4th or part of fortune in the 4th can be drawn to real estate. This placement (ruler of midheaven in the 4th) can also indicate working from home or working in a family business.

Neptune conjunct the descendent is common to see in the charts of people who get married more than once in their lifetime!

If you have the ruler of your 9th house in the 9th, you may decide to pursue higher education/college abroad!

#astrology tumblr #astrology #astrology observations #astro thoughts #synastry #astrology blog #astrologyposts #astrology tips #astrology content #astro notes

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