#(editing to add by being really shitty to these people i don’t mean the insecure ones i mean my friends when i was like this)

[cherryredstars]

Hi! I really really love how you write for Simon. Like honestly it is so good. I saw that you're taking regular requests right now, so if it's okay could I request some jealous/insecurity headcanons or a oneshot (any format really) for Simon? Like maybe him and the reader are still working toward being more secure but there's still those moments where there needs to be some reassurance and a bit of comfort.

I just loved your cocky!Simon headcanons and I would love to see the progression of him getting to that point if you know what I mean lol.

Also congrats on 1k!! You deserve it!! I love your blog.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Insecurities, Mentions of Simon’s Trauma, Angst (???) with Comfort

Summary: He just needs a little reassurance sometimes.

A/N: I need to write for Simon more, I miss him!!

Word Count: 1.6K (Edited)

Simon’s been jealous before. Envious being a better word. 

He used to be jealous of all the kids who had a loving home to go to. Jealous of peers with perfect parents and perfect siblings. Jealous of all the things he felt like he should have but couldn’t get. But this is a new kind of jealousy, a new insecurity. One so ugly and consuming that he feels particularly shameful of it. 

He knows relationships, especially for him, are all about time. Everything is about time. Hell, he spent fucking months trying to come to terms with the fact that he liked you. Spent even more time building up the courage to ask you out on a date and begin a relationship with him. Add on to that the long hiatuses caused by deployment? This whole relationship is a slowly spinning clock. 

But he’s here, a newly taken man with the kindest thing on his arm. He should be grateful, and he is grateful! Truely, undoubtedly grateful for the opportunity you have given him. But, he can’t help wanting more. From himself mostly, but also from you. And it frustrates him, frustrates him to no end because he knows he’s the reason why the both of you can’t have more. You have told him countless times, drilling it into his head like a daily affirmation that you’re okay with that. That would wait however long it took for Simon to get the hang of this. To fully comprehend what it means to be yours and how to navigate through it. And he is so blessed to have someone so understanding waiting up on him. 

But he sees the difference. Sees the way how natural, how fucking easy it is for you to talk and interact with everyone else. Can see how easy it is for everyone else to interact with you. Things he can’t comfortably do yet. It makes a dark well of hatred form in his stomach because he can't understand why it has to be so hard for him. Why he got the shitty deal of cards, why he got the short end of the stick. He knows, realistically, that it's his fault. So what if his shitty family life and not so glory-filled military career played a part in it? It's still Simon’s own actions at the end of the day. 

It’s fucking torture to watch the casual touches everyone lays on you. How easy it is for your friends to playfully shove your shoulder when you tell a joke, how they don’t hesitate to wrap you in a tight hug when you greet them, how they casually rest their chin or head on your shoulder and complain about everything that went wrong today. Fucking hates how confident people are as they try to flirt with you, how they could so easy articulate their attraction towards you in mere minutes when Simon can’t even do it in months. It makes him want to throw himself against a wall until his screwed up head fixes himself.

And you just look so happy. Smiling at your friends and returning the physical touches with ease. Face beaming with joy as you wrap someone in a hug or link their arm with yours. How you just fucking glow at the compliments given to you by your friends or a passing stranger in the street. He wishes so desperately that he could give you that, that he can casually walk into a room and tell you how fucking stunning you look instead of keeping it in his head. Wishes he could casually grab your hand without feeling like his skin was just dipped into a tub of acid. The only thing that keeps him together is your instant dismissal of anyone that tries to flirt with you, a proud look on your face as you say I have a boyfriend.

But he knows that it doesn’t look like it. Not when there is an obvious space between the two of you as you walk together. Not when he doesn’t make a single move to wrap his arm around you in a crowded space so you don’t get separated. He definitely screams boyfriend when he just watches someone come up to you and try to get into your pants instead of marking his claim on you. Safe to say, he doesn’t expect to find a Best Boyfriend Ever mug under the tree during the holidays this year. 

He knows it pains you too. Can see it every time you instinctively go to grab him only to stop midway through and you give him a bashful smile. Sees how painfully obvious it is when he comes back from deployment and you and him stand outside the terminal gate awkwardly because you don’t know how to greet him if it isn’t with a tight hug. It’s painted all over your face when the both of you are at a group hangout with friends and you watch with an envious gleam in your eyes how the couples are squished into each other’s sides or sitting in their laps. A sharp pain runs through his chest when he can’t even drape his arm over your shoulders to comfort you. He knows that the small smile you give him when you turn towards him is because you know he won’t, even if he really wants to. 

He hates that he can’t give you the simplest of things. Things that are supposed to be so natural in a relationship. Things that were promised to you when he asked you to be his partner. Things that make you so happy. He hates the idea that he’s robbed you of something. That something being a happy and normal relationship. That feeling builds and builds until he’s an insecure mess on your couch as you guys have a movie night.

You’re on opposite sides of the couch, something that makes him want to choke himself out. He’s spread out, arms thrown over the top of the sofa and legs spread. You’re pushed into the arm of the sofa, making sure none of your limbs touch him accidentally. He almost wants to throw up when the actors on screen run into each other’s arms and a small ‘aww’ leaves your lips with a dizzying smile. His hands clench and unclench as the movie ends. You sit up stretching and about to leave for a bathroom break before putting on the next movie when Simon speaks up. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your head snaps to him quickly, a confused furrow forming in between your brows. You’re about to open your mouth to question him when he continues, “I’m trying, but…it’s hard.”

It’s not much of a clarification, but you still understand what he’s talking about. A sympathetic smile comes across your face as you approach him. This time, you sit next to him but still not touching him. A tenseness leaves Simon’s body, preferring you close by even if he can’t touch you. You’re fully turned to him, a look of admiration on your face as you study him. The look ignites his soul and that little well of hate dries up the tiniest bit. 

“I know you have, and I’m so, so proud of you, Si.” The small tilt of your head and soft smile makes him want to nuzzle his face into your neck and shower you in his own praise. He knows he’s practically glowing from your words, and he can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed. 

“Still… I know how happy it would make you. Just… please.” He doesn't know when the lump formed in his throat, but he tries to subtly get rid of it. 

The way you melt into the couch also makes him melt into the fabric. The two of you study each other for a moment, taking in each other’s presence. Slowly you get up and Simon moves to get up too, a moment of panic running through his veins before it dies away when you grab his empty mug from the coffee table. You give him another soft smile as you hold the cup tightly in your grasp.

“Of course, Simon. Thank you for trying. Thank you for wanting to try for me. That is what makes me happy” 

You leave Simon there, excusing yourself to make him more tea and going to the bathroom. He sits and stares at the TV, a new feeling emerging in his chest. It pushes away the insecurity and that hatred and the jealousy. It expands until his own body is buzzy and a puff of air leaves him. Everything feels lighter, brighter now. This feeling is new. One so beautiful and consuming that he feels particularly at peace with it. Love, he thinks. He thinks it might just be love.

So when you come back to sit at his side, mindlessly blowing at the surface of his cup of tea before giving it to him, he lets the tips of his fingers purposely brush over yours. He holds your gaze, making sure you know it wasn’t an accident. A beaming smile forms on your face and he feels a smaller one form on the rim of his mug. He turns away then, sipping on his tea as you look for the next movie to put on. 

He doesn’t touch you again that night. But it still made all the difference. That one, singular touch was worth everything. 

The next night, he comes back to your apartment and stares down at the new mug that greeted him when he opened the cabinet. His finger rubs against the printed words with a lovesick smile. 

Best Boyfriend Ever.

I ♡ Simon Riley mug when???

[retrorealeyes]

Here’s why I want my parents dead /hj

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE like I know hating your parents if they aren’t overtly abusive (and even if they are it’s only mildly) like bruh, tempted to list out my parents “abuse” here. also like bruh, i’m fine rn, i’ve just been hating them for a while

This isn’t fully everything ever, it’s just an overview and I don’t think it touches the main problems enough (also I don’t give a lot of examples because there’s too many and I don’t have the will to write em all,and i’ve still overviewing everything)

-never respect my wishes if it goes against theirs (e.x. please leave me alone, can i go outside?, can I leave and go upstairs?)

             this is a big one

-don’t respect my privacy (in weird ways too, like my dad opening the door to scare me when i’m changing) and making fun of it too

          plus in normal ways like reading my journals or never knocking no matter how many times i tell them to

-making fun of me on purpose to get me upset, even when i ask them to stop

-getting suddenly and violently angry (dad):

           often unreasonably and quickly

          my dad curses people out under his breath, as a sign he’s going to get violent

          has broken things, SUCH AS MY WHOLE ASS PHONE by throwing it on the ground does punch things, generally not people, e.x. walls, but not that hard. he has punched me

          DOES to people- slap, push (this one especially, just last week he did), throw, scratch

          is destructive to other’s property (e.x. ripping up THEIR papers)

          refuses to listen to suggestions like, in the future, trying to calm down, or writing out his anger instead or seeking therapy

          been like this towards me since i was 6-7 years old

          it can escalate from anything

          will degrade you and insult you, if you ever say anything back (even in a non-angry situation, will grow even angrier/get very angry)

          makes you feel awful

          can last for hours and never accomplishes anything apart from further degrading yourself

          if you don’t give the exact answer he wants, will get even angrier

             I’m obviously terrified of him

               Swears at me, except they censor me so much they could probably kill me if I ever swore so that exacerbates the fear of it

          after the fact continuosly denies it

-my dad also:

           always demands respect

          always plays the victim and complains about how we dislike him

          never admits his mistakes

          is awful to my little sister, randomly, even when she’s being perfectly fine

-my mother and father’s relationship

             they openly and mean to each other. they never display affection and joke about divorcing

             sometimes dad yells at mom for a while, it’s obvious he thinks he’s superior to her and belittles her intelligence

             they are sometimes violent, but not often, and not overtly, more violent towards objects than each other when fighting with each other

             they do get in fights often (see: my dad’s belief in his superiority)

-openess with them

             there is none. they constantly criticize any self expression, make all subjects taboo, get angry over nothing and overall make me terrified of talking to them, then get all sad about “why don’t you tell us“ but if I try to express anything, even if they don’t get angry, they’ll store it in their heads and then later keep using it against me. “You said we were bad parents, do you not want to eat our food?“ “You said you were unmotivated, you don’t even have a reason to be sad.“ (said in an challenging, mean way)

-my self esteem

-my dad, physically (TO BE CLEAR I don’t think my dad in any way in trying to do anything sexual, i’m just saying he never respects my boundaries and here are some things he thinks are “perfectly fine” that he does, also this might be a bit disconnected sounding, i’m just so tired

          commenting on my weight/appearance (mom too)

             commenting on what i’m wearing, especially teasing me if it’s something out of the usual, as if i’m not insecure enough already

             dictating what i wear if they don’t like what i’m wearing

             commenting (negatively) on my mom’s weight a lot (to be fair, they both joke about being old and him balding and a little about him being fat so this one isn’t as bad apart form the fact that i’m skinnier so he “jokes” a lot about how i’m like a skinnier version of her)

                fatso called the girl in the video

             forces me to hug and kiss him, often only giving my phone back or treats luke donuts if I kiss him, even if I’ve expressed i’m uncomfortable (just does this a lot and i hate it)

-the past

             have yelled for me for no reason since i was young

             i don’t remember ever liking my dad (wait, before 6 years of age i remember liking him and before I was 9 i remember not hating him at all times)

             i continously try to trust them again, then they break me

               they were never open with me and taught me to be ashamed of myself which led to bad social relations later, which i’m only now breaking out of

-confiscation and lack of trust

               always taking my stuff so i can’t rely on what they’ll black mail me with, no “excuse” is valid to keep it (ex. I want to communicate w/friends or I LITERALLY HAVE INSOMNIA AND CAN’T SLEEP WITHOUT LISTENING TO MUSIC); during my worst days, when I was really suicidal i remember not having my phone for a long time which led to me being left behind and further isolating myself which, y’know spiralled

               I can go on and on about how they never value my voice but i’m sort of running out of steam

               they also never trust my statements, always cast me as the cause-r of something (luckily they’re fair and don’t punish me for it if I insist I didn’t do it, but the fact i have to really advocate for my innocence and am constantly suspected just is not great, and even jokingly, i hate attention, their attention)

                 There’s more but i think i’m done for now

-constantly bother me (i know this is nitpicking, i’m just trying to get everything out, and some of these have more layers than i’m willing to express)

               intentionally sabotaging

               even if i ask them to go away

               try to annoy me when ever i see them, even if i’ve asked them not too, and really make me avoid everything even more (you have to go through where they usually are to get out and that means y’know what)

               singing

               yelling and stepping loudly (which makes me scared my dad is mad all the time)

               always teasing and judging

-mother dearest

               very aggressive

               VERY controlling

               generally boring

    ��          always invades privacy, more of a nosy person, but, in a way, better than dad

               she can get violent too and screams but it’s less often but can get very intense sometimes, generally it’s more of taking away my stuff and telling me to give up (which, the telling me to give up, my dad does too)

-lack of independence

                THIS ONE IS HUGE. my parents are very controlling and so even a little freedom excites me and they use my lack of experience as a sword against me, and that makes it eve harder for me to do anything when I’m constantly fighting restrictions and my brains can’t distinguish bad restrictions from schoolwork restrictions

-shitty world view

               just a bad biased view of the world, i really don’t want to elaborate, beyond the general sense they deserve to be respected for being parents a conservative-type view, also don’t have basic sense of morality, as in sympathy, for everyone, and instead do the whole us|them thing with their politics, the only problem is that we’re immigrants which is why they vote democrat

-grandparents

                 are visiting, they are also unhygienic, to always be obeyed, generally judgemental, and intentionally old, and taking up both of my rooms, overall i don’t like any of them, my father’s mom is alright though

-generally shaming me

And otherwise everything is generally going to shit, my social life (though I saved it somewhat for ONE person), my mental/emotional health, my exercise, motivation for anything, just the way the house is set up, my grandparents are here, how i’m doing in school.

I should write the thesis and really flesh this out well but I’ll tell you what: ultimately my parents are selfish people who don’t consider me my own entity but more as themselves and my achievements combined. ANd even if you love me, which I don’t doubt, I don’t have to love you back, and that doesn’t excuse your shittiness, dad. I fucking hate you. (yes. i’m grateful for the money, house, generally not obviously abusive childhood, food, stuff, bed, phone, etc. you have provided, but that doesn’t cancel out your misdeeds, it just coexists next to it)

Like is it SO bad for me to blame SOME of my issues with them? BUT NO if I ever bring up how they did x so i did y. I did y ON PURPOSE to UPSET THEM and i can’t hold them accountable, i’m just blaming them, even if I’m genuinely trying to explain my issues the way I understand them.

idr if you can edit tumblr documents, and even if you can, i’m not going to, i’ll just add to this with comments, to preserve the integrity, not that anyone will or should read this, but i’ll probably come back to it

[revengeisalwaysanoption]

[Skam Italia] Ficlet: Flawed 2/2

And that’s it :D Again, it’s an unbetaed&unedited VERY LITTLE story I am writing to cope… I hope you will like it as well :) ! Edited to add:  I’d like to dedicate this to Ibisco and @annefraid The first, with her wonderful story (Resilience: go and read it if you understand Italian, it’s so good HERE ) I am a sucker for the boy squad taking care of Nico, so… Another reminder that THEY - both Nico AND Marti - are not alone was due ;) ! And Anne… wow, what an insight on Marti’s deep rooted insecurities in “try and evolve”! I mention them here but it’s all thanks to amazing fic for making me realize how Marti might see Niccolò!

******

Martino knows he screwed up. He isn’t that much of a ‘disaster gay’ – no matter how often Filippo (and his own friends, those jerks!!) likes to address him as such, to rile his Rose up – not to notice the way Nico’s mood plummeted as soon as he sat down at the table this morning. Regretting having to deal with how grumpy Martino can be, before he had any caffeine in him, already? That’s understandable… But quite unlikely. They aren’t really living together, yet, but they are past those petty fights. Who cared if someone seemed always to be too tired to do the dishes or to mop the floor? They never even discussed such trivial things, to be honest: taking care of Nico, making sure he lives in a spotless and tidy environment, is not a chore and Marti really doesn’t mind. Besides, they have a clashing definitions of order and totally different perceptions of how dirty the flat can get before it has to be cleaned. They easily met halfway, agreeing to let Niccolò do things his way and at his own pace, without having to talk about it.

So… if it wasn’t about Martino’s charming decaffeinated personality… What made him run for the hills? Was it something he said? It must be. Fuck. Why does his brain-to-mouth filter always fail him when he needs it the most? And yeah, there is a niggling voice in his head going like ‘You shouldn’t have to overthink every word you say, in fear you’re gonna hurt Nico or something. You should be free to be yourself, including who you are at your worst.’ but he’s not listening to that. What’s wrong with refusing to settle for the person he is now, and striving to become a gentler and more considerate one in the future? What’s so bad about Niccolò inspiring him to give it a try, at least? Nothing; you can’t change his mind. Moreover, he has to make up for the complete lack of any talent whatsoever… Like, okay, compared to Nico - who excels at everything he does, and it’s a lot- he can be dull and boring but at least he’s great at owning up to his mistakes - the whole ton of them - and learn. And it’s more that can be said for so many people out there, including dad, so… Lesson of the day: do not speak until you had your coffee, Martino, and a kiss from Niccolò so that you don’t forget how lucky you are to have this - HIM - to come home to. That no matter how awful you day is going to be - and no, you can’t really know beforehand, so stop being so damn negative and over dramatic… - there are always going those moments with Niccolò that will brighten it.

Okay? Okay. Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand. After the unfortunate comparison of an obsessive-compulsive disorder to a penchant for loving neatly written notes, and finding out that Martino still his that awful word – ‘psychopath’ – in his vocabulary… It wouldn’t be too far for Niccolò to persuade himself that he was belittling his efforts (as well as his mother’s) to get out of bed in the morning, on his darkest days. That’s not what he meant, of course.

’Well, you know none of your friends meant it when they said they wanted somebody to kill them, or that they were going to jump off a bridge because of school. They don’t do that anymore, because they know it reminds you of the bad place Nico’s mind can go sometimes… but some other classmates still throw those words around like it’s nothing, like they are really clinically depressed because their shitty most beloved show got cancelled or their favorite character died.’

That’s it: that’s exactly the point. He knows and it still hurts. It still makes him want to stand up and scream ‘SHUT UP, YOU IDIOTS! YOU KNOW NOTHING, YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!’ at the top of his lungs. He can’t blame Nico for being so disappointed with him that he had to leave…

Well, all this mulling and self-deprecation won’t fix anything. He’d better think how to show him that even though he quite an asshole, he never acts out of maliciousness. He might have hit where it hurt out of anger, in the past, to drive people away… He wouldn’t do it, now. Not even as a last resort. He can only hope it will be enough, for Nico.

So… What should he do next? Should he run after him? Leave him some space? Should he really let Niccolò believe that he forgot what tomorrow means for them – for Martino himself - not to spoil the surprise? He had even persuaded Sana to let him be the main speaker, for once… He had a Spotify playlist ready to play, to let Niccolò know what he cannot say with words and sometimes fails to show with his actions…

He… He has no idea, like, his brain is fuzzy static and he’s pretty sure he will start hyperventilating soon… He needs help. Yep. If there’s one thing he got out of those hell months back in 2018 is that he doesn’t have to deal with any kind of crisis alone. Luca reaches out to them when he can’t find the right outfit for his dates with Silvia, when he doesn’t know if it really would be wise to eat that last piece of sushi even though he’s about to puke… And they should be aware that Niccolò might need them as well, even though he doesn’t dare to ask.

“Marti. First thing you gotta do is calm down…” Giovanni writes in the chat, as soon as he listens to his frantic voice message. “Don’t die on us, man. Oxygen is your friend. Even if it’s being a bitch now, being so heavy and shit…” Elia adds, making him smile. “Deep breaths. In. Out. Picture yourself lying down in a field… Feel the grass. Be the grass.” Luca joins in, earning rolling-eyes emojis and thumbs down.

“Is this something you heard from Silvietta, Lu?” “Actually from our yoga teacher…” “Well, stop it because it’s making me long for some weed and we have to stay lucid and sharp here for Marti and Nico.” Giovanni says in the chat, before calling Martino. “Listen. I’ll be quick: show up at school, because we can’t do much over the phone. I know you probably want to send out a search party for Niccolò rather that sit behind a desk for so long, but you have to trust that he knows how to take care of himself and that, like any of us, simply needs a couple of hours to cool down. It’s not like you killed someone, come on…”

“Yeah, but… what if he doesn’t forgive me?” He forgave him so many times, ever since that morning in the boys’ restrooms, what if this is his breaking point? “Then it’s his problem for holding you up to impossible standards, man, not yours. Don’t even try to fight me on that. You’re my best friend, Marti, and I won’t allow anyone to talk shit about you. Not even yourself.” “I’m far…” “… from perfect? Who isn’t? And don’t say Niccolò. Nope, I hate to break it to you, but he’s some major flaws too. And so do I, and so do you, Eva, Sofia, and anyone out there. Trust me: I call you out when you’ve got your head so far up your ass that you forgot how sunlight feels like and THIS is not the case. Don’t make me come over and drag you all the way to 5B’s door.” Martino is aware that it’s just an empty threat, that Giovanni would hardly ever pressure him into anything, and yet he sighs and promises he is going to be there for nine o’clock. Perhaps, if he gets out, Niccolò will feel like it’s safe to come back…

To Nico: Leaving for school, now. Hope I’ll get to see you, later.

It takes him the whole ride to school to decide that no surprise is worth having Ni thinking he doesn’t hold dear that 11th of October, that the day he felt an immediate and unprecedented connection to a nameless boy could ever be insignificant.

To Nico: Can’t wait for you to hear what I’ve got in store for tomorrow

As he expected, Nico doesn’t get back to him. It’s fine. He can wait.

*****************************

Alright: he might have overestimated his patience. He doesn’t know how much longer he can take, before he leaves no stone in Rome unturned while looking for Niccolò.

Thankfully, he’s got a plan to stick to. Sana’s. Who will most likely make him regret the day he was born, if he steps out of line. It’s not ideal, as it relies on too many factors – Nico having his phone on, reading his text messages, being in a place where he can listen to Radio Osvaldo – but it’s the best they’ve got.

“Well, thank you, Ivano… Sharing with us how it’s life with a bipolar disorder must have been hard, but I’m sure that many of our listeners found comfort listening to how you got your happy ending with Sax… To some of us things look so bleak we don’t even see the point of anything, but your story goes to show that it does get better, when you start building bridges instead of burning them. And Martino, you must be so proud of our special guest today. A woman who was brave enough to come and talk to all of us about she is dealing with her depression. Unfortunately she had to leave early, but thank Teresa on our behalf. We hoped to have a former student of this school to conclude this special feature on Mental Health Day, as they are dealing with one of the most stigmatized illnesses… Unfortunately they couldn’t join us. If you are listening, however, remember that we’re here for you. All of us.”

“I am. My mom truly is the best. Yeah, I can hear you all groan, but that’s a fact. It took me ages to see it, so maybe you should cut your parents some slack as well. Unless they’re abusive jerks, of course. And I couldn’t be prouder of that person you just mentioned as well. They keep on being strong, kind, and compassionate in a world that constantly tries to tear them down… They- ”

“Martino, if you keep on going like that you might just as well say their name.” Sana warns him, shooting him a reproachful glare. Too bad she can’t stop him. He just realized how he can make Nico understand he treasures every second they spend together. The best and the worst.

“They are who I want to spend my life with: Niccolò Fares, will you marry me?”

“YES!!” The door barges open, he’s swept off the seat and carried to the nearest secluded corner. What the fuck? He’s not complaining, but really: what the fuck has just happened?

*****************

They would later agree that the marriage is not going to happen for another couple of years, that a proper and more romantic proposal is order from them both… and Martino finds out that while he was busy with Sana, ‘contrabbandieri’ and ‘matte’ joined forces to delve into Nico’s past. So that they could call Niccolò’s old friends to the rescue. Together they managed to locate Nico and then Gio – of course it was him: the love wizard - and Michi talked some sense into him.

“So, tell me… What exactly have you got planned?” He sounds a bit hesitant, now that the euphoria of the impromptu proposal has worn off.

“I was thinking about a tutorial on how to grow weed in your closet. Followed by a cooking show hosted by the famous chef Niccolò Fares, a ten step guide to on how to break in a deserted pool, a top five on the most romantic spots in Rome… Can’t quite decide who’s gonna get the first place, the bins had their charm but so did the toilets…”

“… well, it can’t be a fair ranking until you’ve seen my favorite spot. Come on, Marti. Keats and Shelley are waiting for us!”

“Lead the way.”

[ariestarfairy]

who did it better

It’s the age-old debate, granted I’m a little bit late to the party but my thoughts are not. It’s the Who Did It Better? Sailor Moon Edition! The epic battle of moon versus moon! Now keep in mind no matter what I say it is just an opinion, I don’t expect everyone to agree with it, this is Sailor Moon after all, not science. Disagree but be civil alright? Before I start this I was watching Sailor Moon Classic and reading the Sailor Moon manga roughly side by side. When I say I was reading the manga I mean not the manga that you know as manga but little comic book versions that were done chapter by chapter. I want you to also know that I was watching the Classic dubbed version and the errors in the dubbed version translated to the comics as well so at least it was consistent. When I watched the Classic subtitled version I was also reading a better and truer version of the manga (and it was actually a manga) alongside it. So why bother telling you this? I want you to know that my assessment of Sailor Moon Classic and Sailor Moon Crystal are not coming from a place of 90s nostalgia. That’s what a lot of people tend to argue in these debates, and because Crystal follows the manga for what it’s worth I can’t be accused of having that 90s nostalgia for Classic. So let’s break down the categories. Story Art Music Mythos Character likability Character development Ability/Power Growth Pacing I think I have hit most of the categories that tend to come up in a lot of these debates so let's go through them one by one. In terms of story, Sailor Moon Classic takes this category. The reason why Classic takes it over Crystal has everything to do with the fact that Crystal’s story is little more than a regurgitation of the manga and not a very good one. I’d almost rather read the manga for the extra bits that Crystal leaves out, it might not seem important but those little bits add up when telling the story of Sailor Moon. The first story arc of Crystal was already rough, but it turned into a dumpster fire when they tried to execute the Shitennou romance with the Inner Senshi. Classic told it’s own story and I think the execution overall is much better, Crystal felt like it was all over the place, especially in the first two seasons. The third season was better by miles, but it tripped out of the gate when it should have come sprinting out of the gate making it feel like a weak cash grab. No doubt it is, much like it’s shounen brother Dragon Ball Super. In terms of art Sailor Moon Classic also takes this category. Okay so it is not always consistent and it is not up to present-day standards, but that would be an unfair comparison. Sailor Moon Classic came out in the 90 and Sailor Moon Crystal came out in the 20-teens. They ought to be judged based on the standards for their own time right? If I judged Classic against the manga then yes the manga would win, but this is anime vs anime here and the quality for Crystal was just far below what it should have been, the inconsistency is way more jarring than in Classic, and the CGI transformations were cheap and they took me out of the moment. Even season to season they have a hard time staying consistent with the animation, granted season 3 was again an improvement over one and two, but my understanding is that there will be more changes with season 4 (the movie releases). For the music category, Sailor Moon Classic takes it yet again. The only thing I like about Sailor Moon Crystal as far as the music goes is some of the orchestrated stuff, I think that is better than Classic, but overall none of the songs are memorable, none of the transformation music is memorable, most people immediately think Moonlight Densetsu when they think of Sailor Moon and I can honestly say that there was maybe one song I personally enjoyed from Crystal and that was Eternal Eternity. The rest of the OP and ED songs were just forgettable honestly. In the mythos category, finally Sailor Moon Crystal takes it home for the win with the help of the manga because I did think the mythos in the manga was handled better than in Crystal, but Crystal tried. We actually understand our enemies, we know their history, we know their real motivation. Just looking at the first arc of each story as an example in Crystal we learn that Beryl wasn’t just some evil entity without a cause for the sake of being one like in Classic. We understand why she was so enamored by Endymion, where it wasn’t really clear before. She was a witch from Earth who was in love with Endymion and heart broken when he fell in love with Princess Serenity. We learn that the Shitennou were once loyal to the Prince Endymion, but their minds were poisoned against him. We get to see the darker side of Serenity’s anguish over losing Endymion. And one thing I liked was when they actually went to the moon in order to learn all of this history as opposed to being ejected into a different dimension by Kunzite which was just strange. I also like that we learn that all of the Senshi are princesses in their own right and get their powers from their respective castles and they have their own gowns which are awesome and I hope to one day see in Crystal. So congrats to Crystal and the manga by extension for the mythos.   For character likability, Sailor Moon Crystal also takes this category (Crystal might be catching up). For whatever reason so many characters in Classic had their personalities altered to either extreme levels or shitty levels. Mamoru was a total dick and I can see why so many people dislike him, the Classic version of Mamoru was a real jerk especially in season one where he would make fun of Usagi’s weight and he was just borderline verbally abusive...well maybe not borderline, he was. Mamoru in the manga and in Crystal would never talk to Usagi or anyone that way, he may have teased her, but he was never cruel to her and you could see that he loved her much more in Crystal than you can see it in Classic. Usagi, don’t get me wrong I love Usagi, but it’s almost like she reboots every season, just about. We see her grow in one season and she’s just as immature, childish, and insecure in the next season. She’s far more mature in Crystal, even though she is clumsy and a bit of a crybaby at times, though when she grows she grows. Rei is just a straight up bitch in Classic and Chibi-Usa never stops being annoying, the only seasons I liked Chibi-Usa in were the seasons when she wasn’t there. She’s so much better in Crystal and in the manga, she and Usagi have a stronger bond and they care more for each other, and Chibi-Usa does what she can to cheer Usagi up as well. They are not opposing forces as much as they are in Classic. Michiru and Haruka are also woefully changed from the Crystal and manga version. In Crystal they want to work with and to the same ends as Sailor Moon and the others, Haruka desperately loves her princess and you can see how heartbroken she is when she can’t save her or when she fails her (especially in the manga). In the Classic they treat Sailor Moon and the others like they are in the way like they have to earn their respect, they often have different agendas from the Inner Senshi, and they come off as double agents too. Character development. Sorry, I have to hand this to Sailor Moon Classic, this is what I was dreading with Sailor Moon Crystal and anyone who has read the manga and is being honest with themselves should agree that the characters in Crystal and the manga are very much underdeveloped. Their histories, their personalities, their quirks are watered down and when you think you’ve gotten to know one character half a dozen more characters pop up to push them to the back burner. The Inner Senshi are quickly pushed aside when the Outer Senshi show up and you have even more Senshi show up in later arcs that the only characters you really get to know are Usagi, Mamoru, and Chibi-Usa. The others barely get a moment to shine. Ability and power growth goes to Sailor Moon Crystal. I always felt like the other Senshi were constantly lagging behind Sailor Moon in abilities, power growth, and transformations in Classic whereas they grow when Sailor Moon grows in Crystal so we get to see more abilities, transformations, and powers. Even Mamoru gets to be badass in a way that he wasn’t in Classic with his roses, he gets Tuxedo La Smoking Bomber which is pretty badass looking in spite of the name. Pacing is a tie! The pacing is pretty shitty for both of the shows, we can all agree on this much I think. Sailor Moon Classic was running alongside the manga so it kind of had an excuse, it had to have fillers so the manga could catch up. Still, it was stuffed with fillers, some of them I liked and they were fun, some of them were unnecessary and added nothing. Sailor Moon Crystal blows by really quickly, so fast you feel like you don’t get to know the characters very well, you don’t get a flushed out story, in fact, pacing contributes to the reason why Crystal fails in other categories and it kind of has the manga to thank for it. The Overall Winner is! Sailor Moon Classic!  

[moonmothmama]

ok. so. The Princess Bride. i read it yesterday.

and right up front, before even a review, i’m gonna go ahead and list everything objectionable in the book that i can recall. please don’t take the length of the bullet pointed items to follow as an indication that the book was wildly problematic and offended me at every turn; it wasn’t and it didn’t. but there were some things that made me go: 😑 or 😒, and here it all is, presented with context, before anything else, because to be honest, i didn’t expect any of it. the film is relatively spotless, which is pretty rare for that era, and if any of you are thinking of reading it, you could do with being more prepared for this than i was.

first off, racism. two passing remarks. one isn’t even in the story proper; it’s in the first whole long intro bit from the author/narrator. that takes some explanation, i suppose: like in the film, the story is presented as a book having been written by “S. Morganstern,” except instead of a grandfather reading to his sick grandson, the narrator is interjecting with notes on the original text that he has abridged. the beginning is a whole long shpiel that, in my opinion, could have been significantly pared down with absolutely zero loss to the story (which! hey! the film did perfectly! go figure!). anyway, the first racist remark is an absolutely tasteless line in which the narrator pisses and moans about his fat son, making a crack about “painting him yellow” and making him a sumo wrestler. y i k e. the other passing remark is from Miracle Max (really, truly, the film version of this scene is miles better than the book version, but contains an important plot detail, so you should prob still read it, but i’ll give you the lowdown if you wanna skip). he refers to Iñigo as a sp*ck (rather bafflingly, i might add, bc Iñigo is a Spanish man... from Spain... not a Hispanic or Latino man from Latin America. so. i mean i’m certainly not an expert on slurs but... i have never in my life heard that term in reference to a person from Spain, and am virtually certain it was invented to refer to ppl from the americas) and in the same breath uses an objectionable term for a Polish person. sooo... again: y i k e. what gets me is that... these could’ve just been edited out? why weren’t they? i mean i know why but

fat shaming! see above. though to be honest, any true negativity about fatness is restricted to the author/narrator’s interjections; there are a few minor fat characters in the story and those depictions, without being too long-winded or spoilery, didn’t offend me (fyi: i’m fat). if you want the details, please feel free to message me about it.

if we can go back to the whole long beginning shpiel from the author/narrator, it’s just... eh. he comes off as kind of a jackass, tbh. not even halfway through it i found myself more than a little impatient for the story to begin, and that could be at least partly because the film spoiled me with a lovely, not annoying, not problematic scene of Granddad Columbo reading to Baby Fred Savage where no one made any racist remarks or ragged on fat kids. the basic gist, if you want to skip it, is that the author, as a kid, had this book read to HIM by his father, who was a Florinese immigrant, and nearly illiterate in English, but still labored over reading the English translation to his American-born son, who adored the book and requested it read to him dozens and dozens of times over the years, refusing to read it himself (though he read plenty of other books). as an adult, he buys his son the book, and is crushed when the son doesn’t like it. he then reads it for the first time, and realizes his father skipped over huge, boring blocks of text. he read his son only The Good Parts. so he decides to edit that shit out himself and release the abridged version he loves so much. add into that some complaining about his wife and some extra blah blah, and that’s pretty much it.

you remember the scene in the movie where The Man In Black/Westley almost slaps Buttercup for what he believes is lying? in the book he actually slaps her. not that his actions seem supported or endorsed by the text, but still, there you are. Buttercup does push him off a cliff soon after, though, so. i wouldn’t call that ‘even’ exactly but, shrug

Vizzini, in the book, has a fucky leg and his back isn’t quite straight, and he’s referred to repeatedly as a “humpback” or “hunchback” which needless to say is Not Kosher

that, as i recall, is it. i hope i’m not forgetting anything. now onto content/trigger warnings:

alcoholism. this shouldn’t be a surprise if you’ve seen the movie: Iñigo has some, shall we say, issues

Fezzik’s parents were... terrible. CPS would be all over them. spoiler: basically they emotionally blackmailed their son into fighting professionally, which they knew he hated, by telling him they’d abandon him if he didn’t

Buttercup has some kinda messed up (read: unsettling but in no way graphic) nightmares after leaving Westley when they’re found by Prince Humperdinck at the Fire Swamp, mostly involving bearing children to the Prince who she once again is set to marry

the slurs and whatnot i mentioned above

violence, obviously. nothing worse than the film as i recall.

that’s it i think. 

okay. all that said. did i enjoy the book? yes i did. a lot.

now, you might be thinking: jesus, Kathleen, after all the shit you just listed? and to this i reply: listen. there is no Unproblematic Media, so you either enjoy some things that are flawed, or you enjoy nothing at all. there is plenty of objectionable shit in Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit! fucking plenty! and i love those books! and so do plenty of other people! in my own humble opinion, the good story is worth the shitty bits, because the shitty bits aren’t like, fundamental to the plotline. the story isn’t built on offensive humor or nasty, bigoted attitudes. and they’re also not the most egregious examples of Objectionable Content i’ve come across- not by a longshot. there are levels to offense. there are tiers of bullshit. this is on a far lower tier than a whole host of other things i could mention. but if any of this stuff i’ve listed crosses a line for you, i totally understand and respect that. that’s why i’ve bothered to list it at all. imo, how you respond to objectionable content is important: you don’t ignore it or excuse it, you acknowledge and criticize it. and if you still enjoy whatever the thing is, you allow yourself to enjoy it, without getting hissy or defensive with people for whom the objectionable content ruined the book/movie/whatever. 

there you go, there’s my disclaimer for having enjoyed the book. your mileage may vary.

okay. so. review time.

Buttercup is a far more interesting character in the book than the movie, for which the movie can’t be faulted all that much, because you can’t easily translate a character’s inner monologue/unspoken thoughts to the screen, especially not with the time limit that comes with the medium of film. but watching her struggle with her feelings and life choices (and... lack thereof, since her choice is between marrying the prince and being put to death, which isn’t much of a choice, even if she tries to reason it out later by telling herself she COULD have said no... and initially did) creates far more of a bond between her and the reader in the book than, personally, i felt watching the movie. also she has a great line after Westley calls her beautiful at their reunion- she says something like, ‘everyone’s always calling me beautiful, i have a mind too, why don’t you talk about that’

Both Westley and Buttercup are immature, naive, and foolish in the beginning, and if Westley strikes you as Extra Dickish, a) rewatch the film! he did act like a bit of a dick, there, didn’t he? b) remember that in the story he’s a young man between the ages of eighteen and twenty five, which in my considerable experience is the age at which young men are generally at their peak of Asshole. sorry dudes

and not that Buttercup herself is a complete peach! she deals very poorly with her emotions in general and acts kinda shitty herself once or twice. i won’t say too much lest i spoil everything that’s different between the film and the book.

Prince Humperdinck is also a more three dimensional character; still a rat bastard tho.

onto Fezzik and Iñigo.

as i have said in other blog posts, these boys are... pretty much the whole reason i sought out the book. and... jesus. 

you get all the way into the tragic backstories that were only hinted at in the film. okay, Iñigo’s backstory was more than hinted- but of course you go so much deeper in the book- and Fezzik’s was less than hinted, reduced mostly to a peek at the insecurity that Vizzini exploits and preys upon to keep him in line. not that you’d have to expend a great effort to him to keep him in line; his personality is docile and non-confrontational. truly not the slightest bit aggressive by nature. he’s also kinda clingy and needy, which is a thousand percent understandable given his childhood, and tbqh doesn’t need to be browbeaten for Vizzini to keep him on his short, cruel leash. which makes it all the more painful! hurrah! 😭

also you actually get to meet Iñigo’s father, Domingo Montoya, in a flashback, aaaand... i kinda love him. probably predictable if you know me.

anyway. tragic backstories. which further illuminate the emotional and psychological issues that make them so dependent on Vizzini, and turn them to lives of crime in his employ. poor boys! oy gevalt. sympathy abounds; i honestly don’t know how you could go through the book and not fall at least a little bit in love with this duo, whose friendship is precious and adorable and a balm to the soul that is aching from their painful life stories and unhealthy coping mechanisms. they’re each, very plainly, the only friend the other has in the world, and are constantly helping and bolstering one another. it’s heartbreakingly sweet. i think those boys will be alright as long as they stick together.

and now, the repeated theme of the book, that is presented with far less intensity in the film: life isn’t fair. which, one supposes, is true. but while the narrator’s framing of that assertion may give you the same misgivings they gave me- bitching about his fat son and his less than ideal relationship with his wife- you can also step back and appreciate it as a wee pearl of wisdom. life is often unfair, but that doesn’t mean it’s altogether bad or that you can’t enjoy it. idk, that’s my attitude, man. 

i could talk about the ending here, but i won’t. at least not too much. not to spoiler-ish-ly. if you don’t want to know anything about the book’s ending at all, feel free to not read the last bit here, except for the very last lines which are bolded.

ready? yes? no?

...

the ending to the book is different than the movie. there is a more philosophical, open ended conclusion than you could really get away with in a movie. at least this movie.

just throwing it out there: i believe in happy endings. ones in real life. but i kind of disagree with the author a little bit, in that i don’t think happy endings necessarily have to be perfect and unblemished to qualify as happy endings. that may be the way “happily ever after” is generally presented, but to me, “happily ever after” means, maybe some shit happened, but none of it was completely devastating, and in the final analysis, life was satisfying. that’s the kind of real life happy ending i’m aiming (and hoping) for. this might sound vague but i hope it’ll make sense if you read the book.

if you wanna do that, btw, i read it for free online at allnovel dot net.

[annachronistic]

Losers of Les Mis (barricade day crack fic)

So basically this is a parody of that scene in Bad Moms where members of the audience explain why they suck at being moms at a PTA meeting. This is the fourth wall-breaking Les Misérables reincarnation AU edition. ~~~~ Although Éponine was generally content with her life in the 21st century, that still didn't stop her from being jealous of people she knew in the 19th century. She was particularly envious of how successful Cosette and Azelma were after 1832. The last thing Éponine wanted to do at the reunion party was to listen to people's stories from the 1800s, a time in her life where she felt that she was an enormous failure. But there she was, listening to Azelma's story about being an abolitionist during the Civil War era in America. She had heard enough of everyone else's success stories. "Alright, I get it!" Éponine snapped. "Y'all are all winning at life. Congratulations. I hate hearing this because I'm such a loser. I was just a sorry gang member who died at the barricades because I was chasing some guy who was way out of my league. I'm just a creep who will never amount to anything. At least les amis de l'ABC got to be doctors and lawyers. And to add insult to injury, all the actresses who play me in the musical are much better looking than me! If only I had been pretty and rich, things could have turned out better." "Come on, Éponine," said Gavroche. "This party is supposed to be lit. Stop being salty and throwing shade at everyone. Hashtag yolo. Well, not really in this case." "I didn't understand half of what he's saying, considering how much faster he's picking up on 21st century vernacular, but I think what your brother means is that you should move on with this new life and not be so stuck in the past," said Combeferre. "And being pretty and rich doesn't automatically solve everything," Cosette added. "Just look at Marie Antoinette or Anne Boleyn." "Or Kim Kardashian," Courfeyrac suggested. "And besides, I don't think you're the biggest loser here," Marius said. Marius stood up. "I'm unstable, insecure, and creepy as shit. Plus, I'm also a shitty lawyer and a big time freeloader," said Marius. Valjean stood up. "I'm a liar and a kleptomaniac with multiple personality disorder who has an identity crisis like every 2 months!" said Valjean. Javert stood up. "I'm a stubborn, condescending bastard who killed myself because Valjean wouldn't kill me!" said Javert. "I bullied Cosette when she was a child so that I would fit in!" said Azelma. "I led my friends to their deaths in an uprising that was inevitably bound to fail!" said Enjolras. "I don't give a fuck about politics. I only came to Les Amis' meetings because I was lonely!" said Grantaire. "I faked illnesses to get out of meetings!" said Joly. "I still paint fans for a living. That's like the lamest fucking job ever!" said Feuilly. "I corrected the fucking dictionary. That's so pretentious and boring!" said Combefere. "I started balding at age 21!" said Bossuet. "I think I can talk to plants, but I can't!" said Jehan. "My cockney accent is totally fake!" said Gavroche. "I died like 1.25 seconds after the musical started!" said Fantine. "Literally no one ever wants to play me in the musical!" said Cosette. "I'm not even important enough to be in the musical!" Bahorel popped out of nowhere and said. "I'm only mentioned in the book once!" said Musichetta. "And I'm a thot!" said Courfeyrac. Once everyone had their turn explaining why they sucked, the room broke out in a round of applause. Éponine felt much better.

[sleepychai]

Hey could you do a Virgilxreader where the reader has known Thomas for a while through YouTube & is a theatre student so is very passionate about dance singing & acting. Virgil really likes the reader but tries to cover it up, so teases their dancing, singing, acting & YouTube so that no one will realise his feelings (maybe one of the sides could know) the reader doesn't think he likes them back because of his teasing, it's only when he sees them cry that he realises how much he hurt them

Hi sorry it took so long. It’s finally here. It’s like 2:20 am here as I’m finishing this off so I may edit it later when i have the brain power to. Anyway I hope you enjoy. Also I will be uploading a new request post with more options on requests.

Also I’m not giving this a title because i feel like this doesnt need one. 

One more thing I’m sorry if this is shitty, this is my first sanders sides x reader.

Virgil x Reader

Words: 2791

“Until next time, take it easy guys,”

“Gals,”

“And Non-Binary pals!” Thomas and I finish together, posingridiculously in front of the camera before bursting out into a fit of laughter.

“Oh my goodness that was great! We have to do this againsome time!” Thomas exclaims as he turns off his camera.

“Definitely, we have to do a collab more often.” I reply asI throw the rest on the unused beans into the nearby bin.

“Thanks again Joan for reading the questions.”

“Your welcome. It was fun watching your reactions.” Joanreplies.

“Just don’t make me try the brown one again. Ick! I stillcan’t get the taste of dog food out of my mouth.” I cringe and poke my tongueout briefly.

“But shouldn’t you be used to it?” I freeze for a secondbefore I groan quietly to myself. The voice is laced with mockery and agitation.The voice that sounds exactly like Thomas, except it’s not. “It’s the perfectdefinition of your own channel.”

I slowly turn around towards the couch where a slumpedVirgil appears with a dark smirk. I close my eyes and breathe calmly. I force asmall smile on my face before opening my eyes.

“Hi Virgil. It’s always nice to know what other people thinkof my content.” My voice is strained and forced and dripping with innocentvenom.

“I’m only speaking for the behalf of the viewers who watchyour crappy content.” Virgil replies coarsely. “They only watch your videosbecause they pity you.”

“Virgil!” Thomas snaps, glaring daggers at Virgil who seemsto be unfazed by Thomas’ voice.

“It’s ok Thomas.” I say whilst holding my hands up in agesture to stop the glare. “I’m used to it by now.”

Thomas stops his glare at Virgil and stares at me almostsympathetically, obviously noticing the sorrow that had threaded itself into myvoice. I’ve always had a crush on Virgil from the day I met him. Although he isa replica of Thomas, he has his own persona, literally. Sure he might tease meabout everything I do but I’ve learnt to cope with it, even though it still causesmy heart to break at every insult. I always find the connection of love to him.But I know he’ll never feel the same about me, especially considering how muchhe bullies me. Sure, I have my own insecurities about myself and yeah, Virgil’steasing doesn’t help it but what can you do to fight against love?

I pull out my phone and check the time that reads 1:21pm. Iturn back to Thomas who has gone back to glaring at Virgil.

“I better go. I need to pick up my costume and buy some moremakeup. I’ll see you tonight at Theatre Class?”

Before Thomas gets a chance to reply, Virgil once againtakes his opportunity.

“You’ll be needing a lot of the makeup to cover up that faceof yours, don’t want to scare away anyone with that hideous face of yours.”Virgil says bluntly.

“VIRGIL!” Thomas shouts causing me to flinch slightly. Iquickly grab my bag of head towards the front door.

“See you later!” I call out as I exit the house and closethe door. I make quick steps to leave the front garden and walk down thestreet.

Once I turn the first corner, I let the tears that I heldback fall down and make streams across my cheeks. I sniffle a bit and dry myeyes, letting my (h/l) hair fall down and hide my face (for short hairedreaders, a hoodie will be over your head). I take slow deep breaths, timing themwith the pace of my footsteps. By the time I reach the bus stop I almostcollapse in sobs, wanting to let it all out, scream out all my agony andheartache, the regret and misery, the burning self-hatred for being so in lovewith a man who puts me through mental torture. I feel the desperation to cryout to the world and scream away my pain, but I don’t. I bottle it up and pushit down, using all my mental energy to forget those emotions.

The bus arrives a short time later. I quietly board the busand sit down by a window seat, looking out the window yet keeping my facehidden from anyone else.

/\Virgil’s POV/\

I slump against the corner of my room after practicallybeing forced back into my room by Thomas. He gave me this big lecture aboutbullying (Y/n), but I didn’t listen.

The truth is that I actually like them, a lot, and not in aplatonic way. I’m just too afraid to admit it, so I tease them to cover up myfeelings for them. I never like to show emotions, especially feelings ofaffection. I’m always worried that I’ll do or say something wrong or ruin therelationship.

If I wasn’t so nervous about confessing, I would’ve havedone it by now. But that doesn’t stop the possible fact that they won’t likeme, which is another reason why I don’t confess. The feeling of possibleheartbreak is worse than not knowing, so I choose to not show my feelings tothem.

A beam of light enters my dark room. I look up from mycorner, peering over my bed and to my door where a very irritated Roman stands.He swings the door fully open allowing my room to absorb the bright light as hewalks over towards me, stopping a few inches from me.

I look at him blankly, almost telling him to fuck off.

“Those were very hurtful things you said to them.” Hestarts.

Oh boy, here we goagain.

I sigh and return my gaze to them floor, preparing myself foranother lecture. But instead of a speech of what I did wrong, I get a sigh. Ithen feel Roman sit beside me, legs spread out straight in front of him.

“You know you can’t keep doing this to them.” I lift my headup enough to look at him, seeing him stare at me with a knowing smirk. “You’llhave to confess sooner or later.”

I scoff, turning back to the floor. “I think I’ll savemyself the heartbreak.”

“Yes, but whilst you’re doing so, you are also engulfingyourself in heartache. You can’t stop love.”

I growl lowly, knowing he’s right.

“Have you even thought to consider how they may feel?”

“They hate me.”

“Maybe, not really what I’m talking about right now. Do youknow how your words are affecting them?”

I perk up slightly, looking into his eyes which hold withseriousness, something strange to Roman. “What do you mean?”

“Well, before they left the front yard, I saw a few tears rundown their cheeks. Have you considered how your words might be causing them emotional pain? Some of the things you say have been really hurtful, sometimesI see them clench their fists so hard they turn white.”

I now fully look up, a force of guilt and worry washing overme. “So what? Their feeling anger.” My voice comes out almost strained,attempting to my emotions.

“I don’t think it’s just anger, and not specifically at you.What would you do if they start to believe your words?”

“Tch, their smarter than that, they wouldn’t actuallybelieve anything I say.”

“Yes but you’ve been bullying her for a while. Maybe yourwords have finally crawled their way to them on an emotional level.”

My mouth hangs agape. The reality slowly coming into myrealization. What if what Roman’s saying, is true? What if I’m actuallystarting to hurt them on a deep emotional level?

My thoughts stop abruptly when a hand on my shoulder pullsme back towards Roman. He looks at me with a stern gaze. “You have to confessto her. I would suggest you ask Thomas to come to theatre practice tonight anddo it then.”

My eyes widen in shock and disbelief. My mind fights betweenconfessing tonight or holding it off for more.

“The more you hold it off, the more possibility of you losingthem forever.” Roman adds.

Losing them forever? What does he mean? Before I give myselfa chance to debate over what to do, I blurt out; “I’ll do it tonight. I’llconfess to them tonight.”

Roman breaks out into his wide grin and cheery attitude.“That’s my boy Virgil! I’ll go tell Thomas!”

Before I get to stop him, he’s up and out of the roomrunning down the hall towards Thomas. I sigh, a small weight seemingly liftingoff of me.

I’m going to confess to them, I’m going to confess myfeelings to them. I keep repeating that in my head, knowing I’ll have no way ofbacking out.

I breathe deeply, turning back to the door before yellingout.

“You forgot to close the door!!!”

~Timeskip~

/\Your POV/\

I complete my back flip and land softly, feeling thepounding beat of the music as I sing my last verse. The words come out cleanand well-pitched, the notes matching the tune in perfect sync. I sing out thelast note, holding it for as long as I can, only stopping when the music stopped.

I stand there, panting as the rest of my dance crew freezein their positions, some looking at each other while others are looking out tothe audience.

“Ok, that was fantastic guys!” The producer says, clappingloudly along with the rest of the class. “(Y/n) your dancing crew did great! Andyour singing sounded excellent! The whole performance looked fantastic!”

I huff out and wipe my face with a nearby towel. My tightsand gym shirt almost soaked in sweat. I pull my face away from the towel enoughto see Thomas walking towards me. My eyes falter over to Virgil, who slouchesonto a bench. Our eyes meet for a split second before a shift my gaze to theapproaching Thomas.

“Oh my goodness (Y/n) your dancing was flawless! I can’twait till the show next week! You and your dance crew will be so cool and I betthat you’ll pump up the audience just by your moves!” Thomas cheers with a widegrin.

I can only smile and laugh lightly with him. But myhappiness seemed fake. I didn’t feel like I did well. I was shit. I messed up alot of the footing and almost fell at one point. I don’t even know why theproducer praised me even though I messed up a lot. A lot of my notes werestrained and some of them were out of tune. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremelypassionate about what I do but sometimes by efforts are put to shame. SometimesI feel like I’m the worst out of everyone here. Luckily Thomas seemed to notnotice. That or he’s deciding not to say anything.

“Thanks.” I mumble. “Hey, I’m going to go to the changerooms. I need a break for a bit.”

“Sure! Go ahead, you deserve it after the dance you did.”Thomas then walks off to another group talking amongst each other.

I quickly grab my water bottle and rush towards the changerooms, tears threatening to fall. I push open the door and rush to the back ofthe lockers, collapsing on the ground in tears. I bring my knees to my chest,sobbing into them with no thought of stopping anytime soon.

I let the tears stream down my face, the emotions flowingwith them, the anger, the sadness, the loneliness.

I let the tears bring them out. The heartbreak from Virgilbullying me. Knowing that he’ll never return my feelings. The pain from hiswords hurting me emotionally, me finally coming to believe them. I feel theloneliness of being the odd one out. I never feel like a part of the class. Ifeel like I’m only here because of how passionate I seem to be.

A door squeaks open and I gasp, my body freezing in spot. Myeyes widen and I mentally panic, afraid of who entered the change rooms.

I stay silent as I hear quiet footsteps come closer to mylocation. I slowly scooch away from the footsteps, only stopping when my backhits the wall. My hand flies to my mouth as my breathing becomes more uneven. Ibring my knees closer to my chest, hugging them with my free arm.

Agonizing seconds pass as the footsteps get nearer beforefinally the person reveals themselves. And oh how I wish it wasn’t him.

Virgil slowly rounds the corner and stares at me, eyeswidening at my form. “(Y/n)” His voice his soft and gentle, almost in a caringway.

That’s all it takes for me to break. I choke out a sob andclose my eyes, scared to see the tormenting look Virgil is no doubt giving me.At least I thought that’d be the first thing he’d do. But it’s not.

Instead I get warm arms wrapped around me tightly. I snap myeyes open only to see Virgil’s jumpers as he tucks my head into his shoulder. Iattempt to push him away, unsure of why he’s doing this. Wondering whether he’sshowing my pity or simply trying to fool me. He starts softly speaking into myear, making my body freeze.

“I’m so sorry (Y/n), I didn’t mean to say any of thosestupid things to you.” His voice sounds genuine and upset, like he’s regretful.“I didn’t mean for any of those words to hurt you. Everything that I said isthe complete opposite of what I think you are. I was only saying those thingsbecause I was afraid of admitting my true feelings towards you.”

I gasp lightly at his words, pulling my head out of hisshoulder enough to look at his face. I peer into his eyes which hold sorrow andsomething unidentifiable. “What?” I whisper.

Virgil sighs and leans against my forehead. He then bringshis hands up to my face and wipes away the stream of tears. “I was so scared aboutrevealing my feelings towards you. I was and am afraid of you rejecting me. Ididn’t want to risk the heart break.”

“Wh-What are you saying?” My voice comes out strained andairy, almost as if my whole voice had disappeared.

Virgil breathes deeply before replying. “(Y/n), I…I loveyou.”

I can almost hear my heartbeat stop. My brain freezes overfrom shock and my breath hitches in my throat. Did he just…?

“And I understand if you don’t return my feelings. I get it,why would anyone even like a fuck up like me. I just wanted to say it to you soyou knew. And if you don’t want to see me again then it’s fi-“

“Virgil.” I interrupt him, my voice finally gaining enoughconfidence to work properly. “I love you too.”

Virgil’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open before breakinginto a small smile, a beautiful rarity. We unconsciously lean in towards eachother, noses touching and lips inches away. With a final look at each other’seyes, we close the gap.

The sensation of Virgil’s lips leaves mine with a tinglingwarm feeling as if desperately waiting for this moment. A warm fuzzy feelingspreads throughout my entire body, leaving me to want more.

I spread my legs out straight as Virgil moves to sit on mylap.

Unfortunately, air was begging at our lungs so we had todepart. When we do, a long string of saliva connects our lips before fallingdown to drop on our chins.

I smile at Virgil and giggle lightly. Virgil returns thesmile and wipes my chin with his thumb. We lean in for another kiss but a smallsqueal interrupts us. I look behind Virgil’s shoulder to find Patton silentlysquealing behind his hands, a smiling Logan and a proud looking Roman standingat the other end of the lockers. I gasp, a blush quickly creeping up on my faceand hide behind Virgil. He takes a quick glance at the others before scowling.

“Can’t you guys fuck off?!”

“Guys, what’re yo-“ Most likely Thomas says. I peer over Virgil’sshoulder slightly to see Thomas joining the other sides. His face contorts inconfusion before exploding into realisation and quickly pushing the three sidesout of the room.

Virgil turns back to me and instantly smirks.

“You look cute when you blush.”

I lightly slap him and whine. “Shut up.”

“Gladly.” He retorts as he kisses me once again.

[cominatchacleopatra]

VLD Pairings For Dummies™

Okay so we all know shipping plays a really big part in this garbage fire of a fandom. It has divided the fanbase and people will judge you and immediately think you’re an awful person for shipping something they don’t personally like. Why is it like this? I dunno, I’m just here to bitch and pretend that I’m funny (keep in mind these are my personal opinions so take them as grains of salt and throw them over your shoulder if you don’t like them). Let’s get into this

Two of the biggest pairings:

Klance: Follows the typical tropes of frienemies to lovers, red and blue aesthetic, opposites attract type of thing. Is currently the most popular pairing in vld.

Sheith: the second most popular pairing in vld. A fair amount of people love the chemistry between Shiro and Keith. They want to know more about their back stories and such.

These two pairings have an... intense rivalry... and that’s putting it mildly. It has escalated to the point where it’s an outrageously over blown shipwar taking the guise of social justice. It really has become a case where if you tell a lie long enough it will become accepted as the truth. some Klance shippers (a loud minority really) will accuse people shipping anything other than said ship of supporting pedophilia. And let me assure you, that word isn’t meant to be taken lightly so how dare you haphazardly throw it around to where it loses it’s original meaning? I digress, fans of klance largely out number the fans that like other pairings so antis can get away with all the harassment and bullying that they do, mostly to the sheith shippers and now currently the staff and voice actors. But lately, it’s evolved into a pure hatred for a certain character and ships with that character: Shiro.

“Shaladin” ships

Shance: Lance/Shiro well known in it’s own right, Lance and Shiro have some nice moments together in the show. Has a nice balance between the two, The jokester and the slightly more serious one that keeps him in line. Slightly less hated than sheith but those that ship these pairing are very civil towards each other

Shidge: Shiro/Pidge. One of the more controversial ships. I personally see them like a mentor or replacement sibling type of thing but I can see why people like it. They have cute moments too. Shiro is so nice and encouraging towards Pidge.

Shunk: Shiro/Hunk. Very rare but visible. Buff and Soft combo. Nice. Hunk could totally manhandle Shiro like Allura can.

Shallura: Allura/Shiro. Used to be the second most popular ship next to klance but wondercon happened and now people scorn it because they think Allura is too young. Gonna be biased here, some people (antis) only shipped this to compete with sheith so that Shiro could be out of the way. Regardless I still think this is a great ship and they could have even more good moments together in the future.

You see antis severely dislike Shiro for no reason. I’m pretty sure they don’t even know why themselves. I can say with full confidence that most antis ship klance and will attack any other ships that “threaten” their ship. To that I say fuck off and stop being so insecure, you already have the most popular ship, so enjoy it and stop bothering people.

Threatening Outliers

Kallura: Keith/Allura. In previous incarnations of voltron these two always end up being together romantically. Due to season 2 this ship has shot up in popularity a little bit that more antis come and clutter the tag. But ironically more antis ship kallura ever since the wondercon fiasco (which I find hilarious and infuriating because most kallura shippers and “shaladin” shippers are on very civil terms with each other)

Plance: Pidge/Lance. They have some cute moments, some have even made the parallel with another ship from OHSHC. I don’t really go into the tags for this ship but I’m guessing it’s light spam from antis, nothing too bad.

Hance: Hunk/Lance. This ship is pretty cool and holds it’s own well enough. It’s great if you don’t want to see Hunk constantly on the sidelines in fanart/fiction.

Allurance: Allura/Lance. I see great potential and even greater headcanons from this ship. They have their moments. Great art works all around.

Laxum: Plaxum/Lance. It’s cute. Their tag has more or less of the same problems that the kallura tag has.

I think these four pairing should get more love because they all can be written really well and have interesting chemistry with each other, especially ships with Pidge because I think they are worth exploring. Another thing I keep seeing is people leaving out Pidge because they think she’s 14, but they never do the same to her brother Matt.

Kidge: Keith/Pidge. They work well together in the show. I could see a really nice friends developing into something more out of this. The art is nice. I don't really go into their tag though.

Hidge: Hunk/Pidge. All I can say is this ship is cute as fuck. And dishes out really good content every now and again.

Shatt: Shiro/Matt. (I know not a Pidge ship but there’s a reason why I’m bringing this up) This ship is popular enough amongst antis and their shipping circles.

Pallura: Pidge/Allura: It’s very cute. I don’t go into this tag either because not my thing but I’m sure the fans are nice.

And I question why since Matt has barely gotten any screen time within two seasons; Shiro and Matt are friends so of course I can see why people would ship them but to me, he looks around the age of 17... 19 tops, wouldn’t Shiro be around the same age as Matt? In photographs he and Pidge only look one or two years apart. What I’m trying to say is Matt is around the same general age as the other paladins yet some antis will ship him with Shiro and not even bat an eye? I mean according to antis “logic” Shiro is 25, so wouldn’t it be wrong to ship Matt with him? Or shatt is totally fine because it doesn’t get in the way of klance? Hmm....

There is also that whole issue of making Pidge asexual because of her age and other things but that’s a topic for another day.

EDIT: 8-15-2017. I was fucking wrong about how old Matt actually is. My bad. Damn... I also have a slightly different stance on Shatt now.

Wild Cards

Allurvian: Allura/Kolivan. This came out of nowhere and I never expected the fans to be so interactive and nice. It also has this pseudo enemies to lovers type of thing so if you like that this ship is for you.

Alforan: King Alfor/Coran. I’m not gonna lie this is a rare pair. There is some art but very few. You can reach the end of the ship tag easily. But it has that servant/royal trope so if that’s for you go nuts.

Shendak: Sendak/Shiro. Oh very problematic pair. I mean if you can stomach the noncon, go for it but other than that, would not recommend.

Shlav: Shiro/Slav. First of all what the fuck. Second of all this is a shitty crack pairing. Third of all WHAT.. the fUCK?! Pairing a character with somebody they don’t like, sounds familiar. No wonder antis like this, they hate Shiro so much.

Haggar/Zarkon: I feel like I don’t need to explain this one. But I think they both had a hand in making Lotor.

Speaking of which, Lotor ships

Lancelot: Lotor/Lance. I can admit when I take off the shipping goggles, this is a crack pairing. They haven't even met yet so why? And to this I say why the hell not? Most of Lotor ships are gonna be assumed hero/villain ships unless stated otherwise later on in the show.

Lotor/Allura: Classic considering the context in the original show.

Keitor: Keith/Lotor. If you like memes this is the crack ship for you.

Pidge/Lotor: It’s another crack pairing. 

Edits:

Thulaz: Thace/Ulaz. I don’t really go into this tag. But from a quick look over they generate a lot of headcanon. Very sweet and sappy adorable. Both are dead though so have fun with that.

Heith: Keith/Hunk. They have such a cute ship name. Honestly, it reminds me of the candy. It’s nice and sweet like the candy. The art is really good. And the shipper have a nice little community.

I know I missed a lot of ships but tell me and I’ll add them in post. Also another tip for newbies in this fandom, if you see a url with starry- as a prefix, avoid at all cost. They are most likely antis and will try to brainwash you. Just avoid antis in general. They don’t know what they’re talking about.

[avoresmith]

mumbles about MPO smol

Anyway I was talking about Teru with my wife last night and. 

Here is the thing. 

I love all of the MPO kids? And I keep thinking of the ways their personalities are unique and consistent and how that leads to me loving them more.

Teru is RIDICULOUS, and one of my favorite posts in this fandom is the one that points out that Teru, after getting his ASS KICKED by Mob, after being a little shit who literally believed he was unstoppably powerful and the world revolved around him, is suddenly all ready to educate Ritsu in humility and how to be a good person.

And Teru largely maintains this! Until he needs to get information from a bunch of minions and he immediately falls into Thug Shadow Leader Mode. And though ‘he doesn’t enjoy bullying them’ he ALSO sure doesn’t feel bad about it, nor does he... do... something else.

So here is the neat thing about Teru: he learns very quickly and can extrapolate and build on concepts to utilize them in the right situation and improve them overall.

You see this most readily with the way he not only copies the abilities of everyone he fights but then learns to do it BETTER. He is constantly in awe of Mob’s raw power but without a doubt Teru is one of the most skilled espers we’ve seen, save for probably Shou’s dad. 

And Teru learns something every time he fights. From Mob he learns ‘humility’.

Only not, really. He learns the value of humility, he learns how to incorporate it. He adds it to his repertoire of behaviors with the same effortlessness he adopts being a bully. 

And I don’t mean to say that he’s ‘faking’ or that he’s being insincere. He sincerely respects Mob’s outlook and he reframed how he manages his entire life in response to it. That’s not a small fucking thing. But it’s not... it’s not what Mob does. Mob is a deeply empathic individual who struggles with how to navigate a mundane day-to-day life because he gets easily overwhelmed by the complexities of a world he often doesn’t understand.

Teru doesn’t do any of that shit.

Teru doesn’t get overwhelmed by nuance, he has an extraordinary amount of self confidence and believes he is at all times correctly navigating his own life. He doesn’t question himself, he doesn’t doubt, and his humility has nothing to do with acknowledging or caring about the rest of humanity, it’s just changing his personal narrative to align more with the one of someone he admires. 

Remember when Mob was freaking out about costing someone else their friends, social status, and hair? MOB WAS FUCKED UP ABOUT BEATING TERU. Teru would’ve have every right in the universe to break down and curl into a ball for a while figuring himself out. Instead he’s already adapted while standing naked and bald outside his school. He completely skips past ever being wrong, lost, confused for longer than the space of a ten minute fight with Mob, and goes right into ‘welp you were right and good news I’m a new person now! Back to being the best at life because I always know what I’m doing!’.

And I ... lo  v e that. 

I mean in the game of Spot the Sociopath, MPO edition, Teru absolutely wins. Though I’d probably just label him as very low empathy. 

And I get excited when I see low empathy characters because Boy Do I Relate. 

I particularly like it when it’s not seen as a character weakness. Teru is very capable! Teru is actually being a good guy who largely makes good choices and wants to be a positive part of Mob’s life! And he is onboard with the idea that it’s better to be Nice than Shitty, even if he can do either with equal ease and lack of emotional investment. He actually is quite clever and after deciding to Stop Making Bad Choices has. Stopped?? Because unlike Ritsu his motivation for being a little shit wasn’t to have an outlet for stress and insecurity, just it was working so he kept doing it until it stopped, then he adjusted his strategy and has been pretty successful since.

Anyway TLDR i love Teru.

(People I also love: basically everyone else. What is MPO and why has it done this to me).

[lumiereswig]

Lumiereswig's Swaggy Batch O' Writing Advice, Part 2

This time without paragraphs, because mobile tumblr is an asshole !!! (I will go back and edit this later not to be a massive shitty bunch of text. In the meantime, do yourselves a favor and add in your own paragraph breaks.)

‘i can’t write a fanfic, lumierewig, blablabla’

UNACCEPTABLE BULLSHIT. Because guess what, fuckers: you CAN write. You CAN. You absolutely can, and with agility. It just takes practice and shit. And since y'all seem insecure as fuck for no reason, I’ve taken it upon myself—for the second time—to bore everyone to tears with writing advice, in the hopes that having some starting points gives everyone the drive to write some g.damn Garderenza fics for me .at the VERY least to prove me wrong and show off exactly what a pretentious fuck i am for trying to give advice on this topic, when my greatest fic ever is just obi wan pretending he knows french

SO! (This is a new paragraph. Fuck you tumblr mobile.) here, following, is some shit to consider when you’re writing a fic. I’m gonna put numbers where there should be bullet points.

1. Try writing the way you would speak. I see a lot of people tripping themselves up by trying to get a “writerly” voice going—which unfortunately can lead to very clunky prose, littered with all these words nobody but a thesaurus would say. if your writing is going in this direction (you’ll be able to tell because the sentences will be forty feet long), try to tell the story EXACTLY how you would say it if I was sitting next to you. So instead of “the maitre d rested his ass on a bench made of the finest marble; considerations of the more trivial matters of life spewed from his mouth, as an old grumbling clockwork of a man expostulated on opposing matters...” try: “Lumiere sat in the rose garden, arguing with Cogsworth about nonsense.”

2. Consider the words that are appropriate for the tone and time of your story. If your story is serious or sad and grounded firmly in the 1700s feel of the fairytale, consider avoiding words that will distract by being too modern. (I’ve been thrown out of fics that were meant to be really sad because the characters kept saying “sure, ok”. WHAT DO YOU MEAN, SURE OK?!!.)

3. on the other hand, if you absolutely definitely want your fic to be trashy garbage crack, using modern words is fine!! since you’re already trash you might as well take it to its limits. As Lumiere always says, “my anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, hun.”

4. if you’re stuck on your story, approach it from a different direction. it may be a terrible direction, and not the way you planned it, but it will be SOMETHING to get you writing shit and not having an amorous affair with a blank microsoft word page

5. sometimes a tiny detail is more meaningful than a big cliche. sure, sometimes the big moments of our lives ARE defined by broad sweeps of love or giant feelings of awe. but i often find myself more attracted to stories that tell you the big things through the little details. or where specific emotions & details MAKE me feel the bigger ones. like you could say “lumiere was overwhelmed with awe, love, and wonder at seeing his newborn daughter,” but you could ALSO consider saying “lumiere held her small fist in his. The skin was soft and new; and her fingernails were sharp as little claws, and they scratched at his hands, and there were fresh red marks on top of the old nicks”

that was a garbage example but you see what i mean?? go specific and tiny and see where it takes you

6. related to #5 but imagery is your friend. i like dialogue more than most, but some people are REALLY strong at writing cute visuals. try it

i’m gonna quit while i’m ahead (and maybe in paragraph form?? who knows??? fuck you tumblr mobile). obviously i am no great writer myself but i figure SOMETHING has gotta help.

here’s my ask box, for feedback (which i love) and prompts (in case you were like ‘HOLY SHIT, YOU CAN’T JUST WRITE ALL THESE TIPS BUT THEN NOT WRITE FICS TOO.’)

go write me some damn fics

[joneswilliam72]

Meet Dominique Purdy, writer and star of the fiercely comedic dark satire, Driving While Black.

With February being Black History Month – honoring the triumphs and struggles of African Americans throughout U.S. history – we caught up with Driving While Black star and writer Dominique Purdy for a chat on acting, the film, the experience of people of color in dealing with the police, what births the "fuck the police" attitude in youth, what we can do about it as individuals and much more.

Driving While Black is a fierce, truly Kafkaesque satire that everyone should see. It is based on real experiences Purdy has had with the police from his teenage years to today and is ever so relevant in an era where deadly experiences with police and people of color seem to be happening with increasing regularity since Michael Brown and Ferguson, Missouri in 2014. The whole thing is Kafkaesque when often the people being singled out and harassed by the police as bureaucratic enforcers, are targeted for no other reason than their race.

We should all be upset when that kind of treatment occurs, no matter the color. Yet, police harassment can and does happen to more and more people precisely because of over-policing as a result of the Drug War and the cops being weaponized when they are in the role of collecting revenue for the state for non-crimes like not wearing your seat-belt or in the abuses of civil asset forfeiture; to even the police shooting the wrong people when executing a no-knock search warrant on the wrong house entirely. Even pets are often not immune with some officers executing dogs with impunity – there's even a national database tracking these "puppycide" numbers.

All those things are directly attributable to over-policing. When you make nonsense things – like not wearing a seat-belt or possessing a little pot – crimes you still create real criminals. The way those "criminals" are handled is always harassing, and far too often that harassment is based purely on the race of the "suspect". This is a problem we should all be worried about and doing what we can to stop.

In Driving While Black, Dmitri (Purdy) is a pizza guy who would rather smoke weed and suffer for his art, but his mom and his girl won't stop nagging him to get a real job. When he's offered a gig mouthing off to tourists behind the wheel of a Hollywood "star tour" bus, it looks like everyone might get what they want. Trouble is, our man can't seem to step out the door to get to the interview without endless complications: busted radiators, simple weed scores gone sideways and LAPD cruisers seemingly everywhere. Dmitri's skill at going unnoticed by cops is honed by painful experiences growing up black in L.A., but even his keen survival instincts won't save him from the week from hell.

Dominique Purdy in the behind the scenes shot from DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

With a jovial swagger to its walking pace, Driving While Black is half comedy of errors and half hard-bitten realism, tucked into a sly treatise on 21st-century over-policing. Enjoy the interview below and catch Driving While Black on digital now.

Hello Dominique and welcome to The 405! To start things off, what initially inspired the film? DWB is so timely not just from (sadly) what is happening in society but also in film with movies like Green Book and BlacKkKlansman. Seeing especially the racism and discrimination in Green Book paired with the racism in Driving While Black made me wonder, have we really come that far from 1962?

The inspiration for Driving While Black came from just that "Driving While Black " It's my experiences growing up dealing with the cops in LA since being a kid up to the present time. Police prejudice against black people and other people of color is always gonna be a timeless topic in the culture!

A sad thing indeed.

This movie was shot in 2014 and first premiered at the El Rey Theater on Wilshire Blvd. [Los Angeles] on June 30th 2015 to a packed house. We had to turn people away to not violate the fire code on capacity.

Great you had that kind of turnout.

I believe we sparked a wave with DWB in this era of Hollywood wanting to invest in more black stories on film and TV. Look at some of the most popular movies and show since 2016: Insecure, Atlanta, Random Acts of Flyness, Get Out etc.

From DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

We definitely have made a lot of progress since 1962 . Niggas couldn't even eat at the same restaurants as white people without gettin' sprayed with a hose or the Ku Klux Klan burning a crucifix in front of their house later that night.  Racists never went away – just got quieter because it became less cool to be so blatant. Is there whole lot of progress to be made? You damn right!!!

I'd add in a movie that DWB kind of reminded me of: Boots Riley's incredible satire Sorry to Bother You. Of course, DWB didn't go full-on surrealist like Riley's movie but I see them as both very satirical.

The rest is true too. I suppose it can be just hard at times to be hopeful in the current cultural climate. What did your collective process look like on writing the film with Paul [Sapiano]?

I've known Paul for a cool minute so when we would kick it I would always be telling him some shit that happened to me with the cops. Even though it was wild shit, I'm so used to it I can see the humor in it of how ridiculous it is that black people have to have these feelings and take certain precautions when dealing with the police. So we would start writing some of these stories down to start forming what would become the film.

DWB was a fiercely satirical and darkly comedic piece (in a sort of neo-Kafkaesque absurd way) that is sadly far too true to life. Dominique, what would you like our readers to know who don't have to go through these kinds of harassing experiences on a daily basis? Not just while driving but I'm sure while doing other everyday things too. As I am not a person of color, I can't really speak to it, but I can do my best to listen and learn.

For people who haven't really  experienced any police drama in their lifetime and want to just get an understanding of it from the perspective of a young black male watch the film it shows you with humor better than I can explain. I've had elderly white people come up to me after seeing the film during a film festival saying when they saw this police issue we deal with through a new set of eyes. It changed how they thought about situations they had previously saw only from the cops side.

From DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

That's fantastic that people have been touched like that and I can certainly see why, having watched the film. What can people who don't have to go through these kinds of experiences do to help those who do and help make the social climate better?

Watch DWB and spread the word.

What do you think can be done on a community level to fight the kind of discrimination the film shows?

I don't know the answer but everyone becoming more aware of what's going on. Meaning ALL people not just people of color. We ALL have to understand the history to be able to create change.

So true. I think steps like having mandatory body cams and citizens' review boards to oversee them may be good first steps too. But certainly everybody has to pitch in on this. Any funny or memorable moments that stick out from the process of filming?

When we were in the editing process for the film, I was coming in to the office to do some voice overs one day. The whole area was surrounded by cops. I guess they were searching for someone.

Oh shit.

I called the office and said "Yoooo the whole area is crawlin' with police how can I get through to the office?"

Someone said I could cut through the alley and it would let out right by the office. I drive in this alley and as soon as I come out the other side more cops are right there…

Damn.

…they pull out guns and ask to search the car. They thought I might be hiding the person they were looking for in the backside. Cops were like "What are you doing over here?"

I said "Yo, I'm actually going to this right here. I'm working on a movie about y'all".

Then I hopped on the phone and called Paul to come outside and vouch for me. One cop was a straight asshole claiming I fit the description on the suspect they were looking for. The other cop was chill apologizing for the hostility.

Wow. Good cop/bad cop quite literally.

When Paul came out they realized I was telling the truth and let me go. When I went inside the office, there was another actor in the film – a black guy – who was like " How come the cops didn't harass me like you? They just let me right in…"

He was offended that they didn't harass him at all. I was like "You a clean cut nigga! I got too much of that hip hop vibe they had to fuck with me&".

Damn. Glad it didn't get much beyond that. Still sucks you were hassled though. What do you hope audiences will ultimately take with them from the film?

I'd like for black people and other people  of color to be happy seeing a story being told focused on something we deal with in society from a fresh perspective that they relate to. There has never been a film like this.

From DRIVING WHILE BLACK.

Absolutely agreed. It was refreshing, brave, and very funny. And I'm a white guy.

I'd like for white people and others who have never had experience any kind of police prejudice to leave understanding the psychology of how the FUCK THE POLICE attitude is born in a black child and how it grows. Through humor we can make people laugh and then think deeply at the same time. The uneasy feeling I get when I see the police never is going to go away but that's just life for a lot of black people... ain't that a bitch?

It sucks. Not to say others (particularly white people) who go through shitty experiences with the cops have similar experiences to people of color here, but I often wonder why more people aren’t instinctively worried when they get pulled over – especially when you see increased enforcement of more BS “non-crimes” like seat-belt laws. But I've also had my share of bad experiences there too like the cop who grew increasingly agitated because of my hands after he pulled me over. I have a hand tremor similar to Parkinson's and I tried explaining that but he didn't care, made me do the field sobriety test because of it in fact. So absolutely those shitty experiences are universal. But, I digress there…

A question I ask everybody: what makes a great film?

A great idea and unique execution of that idea makes a great film. Don't try to be like anyone. Take risks. Trust your instincts and keep them parallel with your vision.

Very well said. And all marks that DWB absolutely hit.

And another question I ask everybody: what films and performances have really stuck with you over the years and influenced you as an artist? A big question as well I know.

Shit, that's a tough one because my influences are all over the place. So let's do off top of my head…

Definitely.

…the Japanese Samurai Saga film Lone Wolf with Child and Ice Cube's Friday.

Cool. Final question, what is next for you?

I've got a lot of fly music shit coming this year! Catch me on the gram under my moniker: @KTOWNODD.

from The 405 http://bit.ly/2BkymY6

[billydmacklin]

The Laundry Room, 2018 Edition!

At some point in the past couple of years, I got a little…stuck with my own house. I know for a lot of people this feeling might not be especially out of the ordinary, but to me it was novel. The house itself was going through a decidedly “rough patch” in the course of this whole renovation/restoration madness, and to some extent my mental health followed suit. My ability to make decisions and actionable plans seemed to evaporate, which of course made everything feel worse. I’m not sure if I was looking for answers, or trying to remind myself that beautiful things do, in fact, still exist, or just to try to un-block something in my brain, but I found myself looking more and more to visual inspiration.

I’ve had the inkling for a very long time that too much “inspiration” can actually produce the opposite result. I’ve seen this with various clients over the years—they’ll send me a Pinterest board they’ve assembled over some time for a given project, hoping that each image might in some way be represented in the final product. The trouble is that most people aren’t only attracted to one particular aesthetic: they’re attracted to lots of them. It’s much easier to recognize what we think is beautiful than it is to create it. So then, armed with too much inspiration, we try to devise a way to incorporate all these things into a given space, which is usually not possible. Or at least not possible if the goal is to produce a beautiful result. So then we have to start making sacrifices, but now we’ve fallen in love with all of these disjointed elements, all generally done by other people who are really good at this and have lots of money, and we don’t feel confident in making those calls, or even know which calls we have to make, and then we’re paralyzed.

Then, seeking clarity, we bury ourselves in more “inspiration,” as though the image that will make all of this come together could be just the next click away. This, of course, is not especially productive, but it feels like it is.

Being somewhat aware of this, I’ve never used Pinterest except when a client gig required me to. This seemed like a good way to avoid this issue for myself, but I think I failed to appreciate the extent to which the Pinterest mentality has really permeated so many other spaces. The Inspiration Overload is everywhere—Instagram, Facebook, other blogs—and this crept up on me a bit. Soon all of my own work felt so small and shitty and lame, and making simple decisions became an extended exercise in self-doubt and insecurity. Each project in my house became an opportunity to create something amazinggggg but then only if I could remove the very real limitations of time and budget. When it came to my laundry room, I got so caught up in all these things I could see doing: beautiful and spacious custom built-in storage, a sink-to-end-all-sinks, a gorgeous tiled floor, and of course something more interesting for the walls than just painted plaster. Right? I wanted it to look fresh and original and like nothing I’d seen before, while at the same time wanting it to look just like a thousand things I’d seen and bookmarked or screen-capped or otherwise “pinned” without the benefit of organization that I suppose Pinterest provides.

Naturally, once these ideas entered my brain, it became impossible to dispense with them. The floor tile would have cost about $1,000 I didn’t have, but felt so essential to the very premise of renovating the laundry room that I couldn’t see a way around it. Since about half the room would be taken up by the machines, the sink, and storage, I thought maybe I’d compromise and save the expensive tile for the visible part of the floor, but then I’d need the sink and attending cabinetry to be installed first, which of course would mean buying or making those, which I also didn’t have the time/money for. I also really wanted to get the laundry done before being completely occupied with the much more involved kitchen renovation, but in order to do that I’d have to actually start working on it, which would mean finalizing these decisions, which of course I couldn’t do. This all rolled around in my mind for months while my washer and dryer sat useless in the spare room.

I guess when I started this whole renovation “journey,” I felt like the only logical path forward was escalation. Bigger projects. More advanced DIYs. An ever-expanding collection of tools and technical skills that I’d use to create the most amazing spaces I could dream of, because otherwise what’s the point? Putting this much time and effort and money into something should not yield mediocrity.

And then it hit me. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last, but I’m really trying to actively keep it in mind: Not. Everything. Has. To. Be. The. Very. Best. It. Can. Be. IT REALLY IS OK. A lot of things can be improved and changed down the line, when the time and money materializes. It doesn’t all have to happen in one take. At the end of the day, this laundry room has to accomplish one thing: wash my dirty clothes. Everything else is bonus. Also, it’s JUST A LAUNDRY ROOM.

And then something happened: I FELT SO LIBERATED. Without realizing it, and largely out of necessity, I took away the pressure of perfection and replaced it with the momentum of just GETTING IT DONE. Added to this was the challenge of doing it as inexpensively as possible, because the goal was no longer incredible beauty but instead just getting to a place of very basic functionality—and still being able to afford a kitchen stove.

And then another thing happened: in spite of my best efforts, the room actually turned out kinda cute, if you’ll permit me just a little bit of self-congratulation. Because I actually do like my stuff. I actually am generally happy with the decisions I make about my own living space. I actually am capable of making those decisions if I just lighten the fuck up a little and stop freaking out about having the coolest laundry room that my brain can conjure, and creating it in one shot.

Because only a monster would post an after image without a before, here’s the now-laundry room way back when I bought the house! It was one of the first rooms I really tackled, trying to get my renovation sea legs, and I turned it into this office:

I loved that little office, but for various reasons it eventually made way more sense to make this little space into the laundry room. It was sad for a while. Out came the desk, down came the obsolete chimney, in went new electric and plumbing, and up went new drywall and a couple fresh coats of paint annnndddddd…

Laundry room! With a utility sink! And a pink floor! I ain’t mad about it!

By the way, YES. It feels very weird/kinda embarrassing to now have “after” photos of the “after” photos from 4 years ago. I’m also 100% positive that there are those among us who will view this as a downgrade rather than an improvement, but in the context of the whole house I SWEAR this is so much better. Second floor laundry with all this natural light is such an insane luxury. My clothes are literally cleaner because I can see stains and stuff so much more easily, so my pre-treatment game is now ON POINT. I feel very on top of my laundry situation generally and it’s a great feeling.

ALSO, due to my chronic condition of over-sharing—here is the room like a day or two before I snapped the “after” photos. And honestly this is more of what I had in mind when I was all “I HAVE NO NEED FOR CUTE I ONLY NEED CLEAN UNDIES,” but then I sort of liked the additional challenge (/let’s be honest, procrastination) of trying to dress her up a little and add some storage without spending a dime. So I spent the next day just puttering around the house and hanging things up and messing around and it got kind of nice while I wasn’t looking!

Anyway. Point being, that little bit of extra effort was totally worth it and made me feel like I don’t have to really mess with this room for a long time. It also got some of my shit out of indefinite storage and put to good use!

The single biggest new purchase in this room was this cheap plastic utility sink. Various commenters were gravely concerned about this sink choice when I first mentioned it, encouraging me to go with something higher-quality/prettier/ceramic/stone/fireclay/stainless/vintage/antique BUT honestly even trolling Craigslist for some amazing $100 antique soapstone sink STILL involves trolling Craigslist, going to pick up the thing, overcoming the lurking fear of getting Craigslist-murdered, getting it home, cleaning/restoring it, getting it upstairs, probably special-ordering various parts to hook it up, maybe needing to enlist a plumber who wouldn’t show up anyway…SO WHILE I APPRECIATE ALL THE SUGGESTIONS, I am also so very happy that all I had to do was give $95 to Lowe’s and it wasn’t some whole production. When the perfect sink shows up, all the plumbing is there waiting for it.

I still spray-painted the legs black, because I can’t help myself.

Regarding the sink, it is exactly as mediocre as you might expect. It is decidedly un-fancy. It’s very lightweight and therefore doesn’t feel solid or substantial, although I did screw it right into the wall to keep it stable. It stains REALLY easily and stubbornly. It’s also HUGE and was so cheap and I LOVE IT SO MUCH, UNAPOLOGETICALLY. But like, get something nicer if you can swing it. Tell me all about it.

The plumbing under the sink isn’t so great looking either, so I spent 10 minutes making it a little modesty skirt. It’s just a tea towel folded in half with some velcro pinned to it, so it’s all easily removable and the tea towel is intact whenever I want it to be a tea towel again.

Maybe I’ll make a bunch of them so I can change the sink’s outfits seasonally. Hawt lewks for my stained plastic tub sink.

I hung up an old mirror just behind the sink to provide a little backsplash. Problem solved! I kinda love those little plastic clips that hold it up—they were a couple bucks at the hardware store but feel so 60s kitschy. Like not something you should be able to still go buy.

I put up a shelf! My pal Anna gave me like six of those IKEA brackets when she moved and they’ve just been cluttering my basement since. They were white and I spray painted them black and hung them up with some brass screws. Cute! I don’t think IKEA still makes these exact ones, but these are really similar.

The wood came off of the house at some point over the course of renovation, but I’m really struggling to remember what it did in its former life. I guess it doesn’t matter. I gave it a quick sand and a few coats of shellac and BOOM, shelf.

On the shelf is an assortment of things I have accumulated in my short but hoard-y lifetime. The yellowware bowls are antique—one holds detergent pods and the other holds those Affresh tablets that are supposed to rid the washing drum of that swamp smell in the summer. This is to prove once again that I will decant anything.

Tucked into the mirror frame are my two Laundry Idols, my mother below and my grandmother above. My grandma’s favorite task was laundry, and she passed much of her wisdom on to my mother, and I feel some grave sense of duty to, like, not ruin my clothes and bring shame on the family. So they watch over the goings-ons in this room.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry for loving that portrait but I can’t help myself. Her expression is SO GOOD. I bought her at an auction (I think I paid ten actual American greenbacks for that!), and then they told me the staining was because someone was storing her in a laundry room and she got bleach spilled on her. So it seemed right to carry on the grand tradition of this poor little old lady getting stuck in the laundry room, but maybe with a little more respect this time around.

I love my little hooks! These just came from various closets and stuff around the house, I don’t know. The long Turkish towel hides the supply lines which are hooked up under the sink.

Here we find a small sampling of my childhood collection of dog figurines. I’ve gotten rid of most of them, but some were actually kind of cool and maybe I’m pulling it off and maybe I’m not but I don’t care. It’s sort of fun seeing these guys again.

OH RIGHT, THAT HUGE SLAB OF MARBLE. So here’s the deal. Craigslist, $300. It’s a little over 5’x3′, and I bought it with the intention of it being my kitchen island (and therefore not considering it part of the money spent on this room). It’s 2″ thick and came out of this contractor’s garage, where he’d been storing it for the same purpose for the last 30 years. He got it out of another contractor’s garage who’d also been storing it for 30 years, also for that same purpose! The original contractor had pulled it out of a Victorian-era candy shop that was being demolished—can you imagine that?! So ANYWAY it’s huge and probably weighs 400 pounds and I needed to put it SOMEWHERE since custom-kitchen-island is still a ways away, so I just put it right on top of the machines.

I recognize that this sounds like a very bad idea, but I figured….hey. If the washer can stack on top of the dryer, SURELY it can handle a 400 pound slab of natural stone, right??? So I did it, and it’s been three months, and it hasn’t budged, and the machines didn’t collapse, so obviously there’s nothing to worry about here. Lol. If I ever need to call LG out for service, let’s keep this between us OK?

The marble is COVERED in 100 years worth of dings and scratches and pitting and I think that’s pretty perfect, personally. I’ll likely want to seal it with SOMETHING but I’m not super concerned about it continuing to age and patina.

I bought those two big hooks years ago, and it turned out they they make a good rack for the ironing board and iron! For the ~2 times per year that I use them.

There wasn’t really a great spot in this laundry room to hang the drying rack I had in my old laundry room, so instead I put up my Eames Hang-it-All! Anything that needs to dry flat can go on the marble, and anything that needs to be hung can go on a hanger off of this. I love my Hang-it-All and it’s so nice the be using it again after it collected dust for a few years!

It’s hard to get a good picture of, but that little tiny closet under the stairs is my new cleaning cupboard! Those stainless steel shelves used to hang in Anna’s kitchen in Newburgh—they were part of the GRUNDTAL series at IKEA but I’m not sure they still make them. The red bucket has all the cleaning basics so I can carry it around from room to room when I clean and it feels SO ADULT I can’t even stand myself. A cleaning caddy of my very own! Talk about peak experiences.

I mentioned this before, but I re-painted the floor from white (WHICH MADE ME INSANE) to this soft Farrow & Ball pink called “Setting Plaster.” I love it! Painted floors do show a lot of dirt and dust no matter what, I think, but shifting away from white makes it much more manageable. And the rug! I have a weird soft spot for old braided rugs—they just feel so homespun and sweet. I think this one was $10 a while ago and it happens to be the PERFECT size for this room.

OH! And this is neither here nor there, but I did want to circle back on the now-painted-white-but-originally-PURPLE XP drywall I used in this room! This is the Soundbreak XP, which is recommended for rooms you want to contain noise in (or keep it out of), and it’s GREAT. My bedroom is on the other side of this wall, and I really can’t hear the machines when they’re on at all. Cars just driving down the street are louder! I do get a bit of structural vibration during the spin cycles, but nothing dramatic. Everything I was worried about with moving the machines upstairs has thus far turned out to be completely fine. Better than fine! Because I have laundry again!

And it’s sorta cute, IMHO.

The Laundry Room, 2018 Edition! published first on https://carpetgurus.tumblr.com/

[interiorstarweb]

The Laundry Room, 2018 Edition!

At some point in the past couple of years, I got a little…stuck with my own house. I know for a lot of people this feeling might not be especially out of the ordinary, but to me it was novel. The house itself was going through a decidedly “rough patch” in the course of this whole renovation/restoration madness, and to some extent my mental health followed suit. My ability to make decisions and actionable plans seemed to evaporate, which of course made everything feel worse. I’m not sure if I was looking for answers, or trying to remind myself that beautiful things do, in fact, still exist, or just to try to un-block something in my brain, but I found myself looking more and more to visual inspiration.

I’ve had the inkling for a very long time that too much “inspiration” can actually produce the opposite result. I’ve seen this with various clients over the years—they’ll send me a Pinterest board they’ve assembled over some time for a given project, hoping that each image might in some way be represented in the final product. The trouble is that most people aren’t only attracted to one particular aesthetic: they’re attracted to lots of them. It’s much easier to recognize what we think is beautiful than it is to create it. So then, armed with too much inspiration, we try to devise a way to incorporate all these things into a given space, which is usually not possible. Or at least not possible if the goal is to produce a beautiful result. So then we have to start making sacrifices, but now we’ve fallen in love with all of these disjointed elements, all generally done by other people who are really good at this and have lots of money, and we don’t feel confident in making those calls, or even know which calls we have to make, and then we’re paralyzed.

Then, seeking clarity, we bury ourselves in more “inspiration,” as though the image that will make all of this come together could be just the next click away. This, of course, is not especially productive, but it feels like it is.

Being somewhat aware of this, I’ve never used Pinterest except when a client gig required me to. This seemed like a good way to avoid this issue for myself, but I think I failed to appreciate the extent to which the Pinterest mentality has really permeated so many other spaces. The Inspiration Overload is everywhere—Instagram, Facebook, other blogs—and this crept up on me a bit. Soon all of my own work felt so small and shitty and lame, and making simple decisions became an extended exercise in self-doubt and insecurity. Each project in my house became an opportunity to create something amazinggggg but then only if I could remove the very real limitations of time and budget. When it came to my laundry room, I got so caught up in all these things I could see doing: beautiful and spacious custom built-in storage, a sink-to-end-all-sinks, a gorgeous tiled floor, and of course something more interesting for the walls than just painted plaster. Right? I wanted it to look fresh and original and like nothing I’d seen before, while at the same time wanting it to look just like a thousand things I’d seen and bookmarked or screen-capped or otherwise “pinned” without the benefit of organization that I suppose Pinterest provides.

Naturally, once these ideas entered my brain, it became impossible to dispense with them. The floor tile would have cost about $1,000 I didn’t have, but felt so essential to the very premise of renovating the laundry room that I couldn’t see a way around it. Since about half the room would be taken up by the machines, the sink, and storage, I thought maybe I’d compromise and save the expensive tile for the visible part of the floor, but then I’d need the sink and attending cabinetry to be installed first, which of course would mean buying or making those, which I also didn’t have the time/money for. I also really wanted to get the laundry done before being completely occupied with the much more involved kitchen renovation, but in order to do that I’d have to actually start working on it, which would mean finalizing these decisions, which of course I couldn’t do. This all rolled around in my mind for months while my washer and dryer sat useless in the spare room.

I guess when I started this whole renovation “journey,” I felt like the only logical path forward was escalation. Bigger projects. More advanced DIYs. An ever-expanding collection of tools and technical skills that I’d use to create the most amazing spaces I could dream of, because otherwise what’s the point? Putting this much time and effort and money into something should not yield mediocrity.

And then it hit me. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last, but I’m really trying to actively keep it in mind: Not. Everything. Has. To. Be. The. Very. Best. It. Can. Be. IT REALLY IS OK. A lot of things can be improved and changed down the line, when the time and money materializes. It doesn’t all have to happen in one take. At the end of the day, this laundry room has to accomplish one thing: wash my dirty clothes. Everything else is bonus. Also, it’s JUST A LAUNDRY ROOM.

And then something happened: I FELT SO LIBERATED. Without realizing it, and largely out of necessity, I took away the pressure of perfection and replaced it with the momentum of just GETTING IT DONE. Added to this was the challenge of doing it as inexpensively as possible, because the goal was no longer incredible beauty but instead just getting to a place of very basic functionality—and still being able to afford a kitchen stove.

And then another thing happened: in spite of my best efforts, the room actually turned out kinda cute, if you’ll permit me just a little bit of self-congratulation. Because I actually do like my stuff. I actually am generally happy with the decisions I make about my own living space. I actually am capable of making those decisions if I just lighten the fuck up a little and stop freaking out about having the coolest laundry room that my brain can conjure, and creating it in one shot.

Because only a monster would post an after image without a before, here’s the now-laundry room way back when I bought the house! It was one of the first rooms I really tackled, trying to get my renovation sea legs, and I turned it into this office:

I loved that little office, but for various reasons it eventually made way more sense to make this little space into the laundry room. It was sad for a while. Out came the desk, down came the obsolete chimney, in went new electric and plumbing, and up went new drywall and a couple fresh coats of paint annnndddddd…

Laundry room! With a utility sink! And a pink floor! I ain’t mad about it!

By the way, YES. It feels very weird/kinda embarrassing to now have “after” photos of the “after” photos from 4 years ago. I’m also 100% positive that there are those among us who will view this as a downgrade rather than an improvement, but in the context of the whole house I SWEAR this is so much better. Second floor laundry with all this natural light is such an insane luxury. My clothes are literally cleaner because I can see stains and stuff so much more easily, so my pre-treatment game is now ON POINT. I feel very on top of my laundry situation generally and it’s a great feeling.

ALSO, due to my chronic condition of over-sharing—here is the room like a day or two before I snapped the “after” photos. And honestly this is more of what I had in mind when I was all “I HAVE NO NEED FOR CUTE I ONLY NEED CLEAN UNDIES,” but then I sort of liked the additional challenge (/let’s be honest, procrastination) of trying to dress her up a little and add some storage without spending a dime. So I spent the next day just puttering around the house and hanging things up and messing around and it got kind of nice while I wasn’t looking!

Anyway. Point being, that little bit of extra effort was totally worth it and made me feel like I don’t have to really mess with this room for a long time. It also got some of my shit out of indefinite storage and put to good use!

The single biggest new purchase in this room was this cheap plastic utility sink. Various commenters were gravely concerned about this sink choice when I first mentioned it, encouraging me to go with something higher-quality/prettier/ceramic/stone/fireclay/stainless/vintage/antique BUT honestly even trolling Craigslist for some amazing $100 antique soapstone sink STILL involves trolling Craigslist, going to pick up the thing, overcoming the lurking fear of getting Craigslist-murdered, getting it home, cleaning/restoring it, getting it upstairs, probably special-ordering various parts to hook it up, maybe needing to enlist a plumber who wouldn’t show up anyway…SO WHILE I APPRECIATE ALL THE SUGGESTIONS, I am also so very happy that all I had to do was give $95 to Lowe’s and it wasn’t some whole production. When the perfect sink shows up, all the plumbing is there waiting for it.

I still spray-painted the legs black, because I can’t help myself.

Regarding the sink, it is exactly as mediocre as you might expect. It is decidedly un-fancy. It’s very lightweight and therefore doesn’t feel solid or substantial, although I did screw it right into the wall to keep it stable. It stains REALLY easily and stubbornly. It’s also HUGE and was so cheap and I LOVE IT SO MUCH, UNAPOLOGETICALLY. But like, get something nicer if you can swing it. Tell me all about it.

The plumbing under the sink isn’t so great looking either, so I spent 10 minutes making it a little modesty skirt. It’s just a tea towel folded in half with some velcro pinned to it, so it’s all easily removable and the tea towel is intact whenever I want it to be a tea towel again.

Maybe I’ll make a bunch of them so I can change the sink’s outfits seasonally. Hawt lewks for my stained plastic tub sink.

I hung up an old mirror just behind the sink to provide a little backsplash. Problem solved! I kinda love those little plastic clips that hold it up—they were a couple bucks at the hardware store but feel so 60s kitschy. Like not something you should be able to still go buy.

I put up a shelf! My pal Anna gave me like six of those IKEA brackets when she moved and they’ve just been cluttering my basement since. They were white and I spray painted them black and hung them up with some brass screws. Cute! I don’t think IKEA still makes these exact ones, but these are really similar.

The wood came off of the house at some point over the course of renovation, but I’m really struggling to remember what it did in its former life. I guess it doesn’t matter. I gave it a quick sand and a few coats of shellac and BOOM, shelf.

On the shelf is an assortment of things I have accumulated in my short but hoard-y lifetime. The yellowware bowls are antique—one holds detergent pods and the other holds those Affresh tablets that are supposed to rid the washing drum of that swamp smell in the summer. This is to prove once again that I will decant anything.

Tucked into the mirror frame are my two Laundry Idols, my mother below and my grandmother above. My grandma’s favorite task was laundry, and she passed much of her wisdom on to my mother, and I feel some grave sense of duty to, like, not ruin my clothes and bring shame on the family. So they watch over the goings-ons in this room.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry for loving that portrait but I can’t help myself. Her expression is SO GOOD. I bought her at an auction (I think I paid ten actual American greenbacks for that!), and then they told me the staining was because someone was storing her in a laundry room and she got bleach spilled on her. So it seemed right to carry on the grand tradition of this poor little old lady getting stuck in the laundry room, but maybe with a little more respect this time around.

I love my little hooks! These just came from various closets and stuff around the house, I don’t know. The long Turkish towel hides the supply lines which are hooked up under the sink.

Here we find a small sampling of my childhood collection of dog figurines. I’ve gotten rid of most of them, but some were actually kind of cool and maybe I’m pulling it off and maybe I’m not but I don’t care. It’s sort of fun seeing these guys again.

OH RIGHT, THAT HUGE SLAB OF MARBLE. So here’s the deal. Craigslist, $300. It’s a little over 5’x3′, and I bought it with the intention of it being my kitchen island (and therefore not considering it part of the money spent on this room). It’s 2″ thick and came out of this contractor’s garage, where he’d been storing it for the same purpose for the last 30 years. He got it out of another contractor’s garage who’d also been storing it for 30 years, also for that same purpose! The original contractor had pulled it out of a Victorian-era candy shop that was being demolished—can you imagine that?! So ANYWAY it’s huge and probably weighs 400 pounds and I needed to put it SOMEWHERE since custom-kitchen-island is still a ways away, so I just put it right on top of the machines.

I recognize that this sounds like a very bad idea, but I figured….hey. If the washer can stack on top of the dryer, SURELY it can handle a 400 pound slab of natural stone, right??? So I did it, and it’s been three months, and it hasn’t budged, and the machines didn’t collapse, so obviously there’s nothing to worry about here. Lol. If I ever need to call LG out for service, let’s keep this between us OK?

The marble is COVERED in 100 years worth of dings and scratches and pitting and I think that’s pretty perfect, personally. I’ll likely want to seal it with SOMETHING but I’m not super concerned about it continuing to age and patina.

I bought those two big hooks years ago, and it turned out they they make a good rack for the ironing board and iron! For the ~2 times per year that I use them.

There wasn’t really a great spot in this laundry room to hang the drying rack I had in my old laundry room, so instead I put up my Eames Hang-it-All! Anything that needs to dry flat can go on the marble, and anything that needs to be hung can go on a hanger off of this. I love my Hang-it-All and it’s so nice the be using it again after it collected dust for a few years!

It’s hard to get a good picture of, but that little tiny closet under the stairs is my new cleaning cupboard! Those stainless steel shelves used to hang in Anna’s kitchen in Newburgh—they were part of the GRUNDTAL series at IKEA but I’m not sure they still make them. The red bucket has all the cleaning basics so I can carry it around from room to room when I clean and it feels SO ADULT I can’t even stand myself. A cleaning caddy of my very own! Talk about peak experiences.

I mentioned this before, but I re-painted the floor from white (WHICH MADE ME INSANE) to this soft Farrow & Ball pink called “Setting Plaster.” I love it! Painted floors do show a lot of dirt and dust no matter what, I think, but shifting away from white makes it much more manageable. And the rug! I have a weird soft spot for old braided rugs—they just feel so homespun and sweet. I think this one was $10 a while ago and it happens to be the PERFECT size for this room.

OH! And this is neither here nor there, but I did want to circle back on the now-painted-white-but-originally-PURPLE XP drywall I used in this room! This is the Soundbreak XP, which is recommended for rooms you want to contain noise in (or keep it out of), and it’s GREAT. My bedroom is on the other side of this wall, and I really can’t hear the machines when they’re on at all. Cars just driving down the street are louder! I do get a bit of structural vibration during the spin cycles, but nothing dramatic. Everything I was worried about with moving the machines upstairs has thus far turned out to be completely fine. Better than fine! Because I have laundry again!

And it’s sorta cute, IMHO.

The Laundry Room, 2018 Edition! published first on https://novaformmattressreview.tumblr.com/

[billydmacklin]

The Laundry Room, 2018 Edition!

At some point in the past couple of years, I got a little…stuck with my own house. I know for a lot of people this feeling might not be especially out of the ordinary, but to me it was novel. The house itself was going through a decidedly “rough patch” in the course of this whole renovation/restoration madness, and to some extent my mental health followed suit. My ability to make decisions and actionable plans seemed to evaporate, which of course made everything feel worse. I’m not sure if I was looking for answers, or trying to remind myself that beautiful things do, in fact, still exist, or just to try to un-block something in my brain, but I found myself looking more and more to visual inspiration.

I’ve had the inkling for a very long time that too much “inspiration” can actually produce the opposite result. I’ve seen this with various clients over the years—they’ll send me a Pinterest board they’ve assembled over some time for a given project, hoping that each image might in some way be represented in the final product. The trouble is that most people aren’t only attracted to one particular aesthetic: they’re attracted to lots of them. It’s much easier to recognize what we think is beautiful than it is to create it. So then, armed with too much inspiration, we try to devise a way to incorporate all these things into a given space, which is usually not possible. Or at least not possible if the goal is to produce a beautiful result. So then we have to start making sacrifices, but now we’ve fallen in love with all of these disjointed elements, all generally done by other people who are really good at this and have lots of money, and we don’t feel confident in making those calls, or even know which calls we have to make, and then we’re paralyzed.

Then, seeking clarity, we bury ourselves in more “inspiration,” as though the image that will make all of this come together could be just the next click away. This, of course, is not especially productive, but it feels like it is.

Being somewhat aware of this, I’ve never used Pinterest except when a client gig required me to. This seemed like a good way to avoid this issue for myself, but I think I failed to appreciate the extent to which the Pinterest mentality has really permeated so many other spaces. The Inspiration Overload is everywhere—Instagram, Facebook, other blogs—and this crept up on me a bit. Soon all of my own work felt so small and shitty and lame, and making simple decisions became an extended exercise in self-doubt and insecurity. Each project in my house became an opportunity to create something amazinggggg but then only if I could remove the very real limitations of time and budget. When it came to my laundry room, I got so caught up in all these things I could see doing: beautiful and spacious custom built-in storage, a sink-to-end-all-sinks, a gorgeous tiled floor, and of course something more interesting for the walls than just painted plaster. Right? I wanted it to look fresh and original and like nothing I’d seen before, while at the same time wanting it to look just like a thousand things I’d seen and bookmarked or screen-capped or otherwise “pinned” without the benefit of organization that I suppose Pinterest provides.

Naturally, once these ideas entered my brain, it became impossible to dispense with them. The floor tile would have cost about $1,000 I didn’t have, but felt so essential to the very premise of renovating the laundry room that I couldn’t see a way around it. Since about half the room would be taken up by the machines, the sink, and storage, I thought maybe I’d compromise and save the expensive tile for the visible part of the floor, but then I’d need the sink and attending cabinetry to be installed first, which of course would mean buying or making those, which I also didn’t have the time/money for. I also really wanted to get the laundry done before being completely occupied with the much more involved kitchen renovation, but in order to do that I’d have to actually start working on it, which would mean finalizing these decisions, which of course I couldn’t do. This all rolled around in my mind for months while my washer and dryer sat useless in the spare room.

I guess when I started this whole renovation “journey,” I felt like the only logical path forward was escalation. Bigger projects. More advanced DIYs. An ever-expanding collection of tools and technical skills that I’d use to create the most amazing spaces I could dream of, because otherwise what’s the point? Putting this much time and effort and money into something should not yield mediocrity.

And then it hit me. It’s not the first time and won’t be the last, but I’m really trying to actively keep it in mind: Not. Everything. Has. To. Be. The. Very. Best. It. Can. Be. IT REALLY IS OK. A lot of things can be improved and changed down the line, when the time and money materializes. It doesn’t all have to happen in one take. At the end of the day, this laundry room has to accomplish one thing: wash my dirty clothes. Everything else is bonus. Also, it’s JUST A LAUNDRY ROOM.

And then something happened: I FELT SO LIBERATED. Without realizing it, and largely out of necessity, I took away the pressure of perfection and replaced it with the momentum of just GETTING IT DONE. Added to this was the challenge of doing it as inexpensively as possible, because the goal was no longer incredible beauty but instead just getting to a place of very basic functionality—and still being able to afford a kitchen stove.

And then another thing happened: in spite of my best efforts, the room actually turned out kinda cute, if you’ll permit me just a little bit of self-congratulation. Because I actually do like my stuff. I actually am generally happy with the decisions I make about my own living space. I actually am capable of making those decisions if I just lighten the fuck up a little and stop freaking out about having the coolest laundry room that my brain can conjure, and creating it in one shot.

Because only a monster would post an after image without a before, here’s the now-laundry room way back when I bought the house! It was one of the first rooms I really tackled, trying to get my renovation sea legs, and I turned it into this office:

I loved that little office, but for various reasons it eventually made way more sense to make this little space into the laundry room. It was sad for a while. Out came the desk, down came the obsolete chimney, in went new electric and plumbing, and up went new drywall and a couple fresh coats of paint annnndddddd…

Laundry room! With a utility sink! And a pink floor! I ain’t mad about it!

By the way, YES. It feels very weird/kinda embarrassing to now have “after” photos of the “after” photos from 4 years ago. I’m also 100% positive that there are those among us who will view this as a downgrade rather than an improvement, but in the context of the whole house I SWEAR this is so much better. Second floor laundry with all this natural light is such an insane luxury. My clothes are literally cleaner because I can see stains and stuff so much more easily, so my pre-treatment game is now ON POINT. I feel very on top of my laundry situation generally and it’s a great feeling.

ALSO, due to my chronic condition of over-sharing—here is the room like a day or two before I snapped the “after” photos. And honestly this is more of what I had in mind when I was all “I HAVE NO NEED FOR CUTE I ONLY NEED CLEAN UNDIES,” but then I sort of liked the additional challenge (/let’s be honest, procrastination) of trying to dress her up a little and add some storage without spending a dime. So I spent the next day just puttering around the house and hanging things up and messing around and it got kind of nice while I wasn’t looking!

Anyway. Point being, that little bit of extra effort was totally worth it and made me feel like I don’t have to really mess with this room for a long time. It also got some of my shit out of indefinite storage and put to good use!

The single biggest new purchase in this room was this cheap plastic utility sink. Various commenters were gravely concerned about this sink choice when I first mentioned it, encouraging me to go with something higher-quality/prettier/ceramic/stone/fireclay/stainless/vintage/antique BUT honestly even trolling Craigslist for some amazing $100 antique soapstone sink STILL involves trolling Craigslist, going to pick up the thing, overcoming the lurking fear of getting Craigslist-murdered, getting it home, cleaning/restoring it, getting it upstairs, probably special-ordering various parts to hook it up, maybe needing to enlist a plumber who wouldn’t show up anyway…SO WHILE I APPRECIATE ALL THE SUGGESTIONS, I am also so very happy that all I had to do was give $95 to Lowe’s and it wasn’t some whole production. When the perfect sink shows up, all the plumbing is there waiting for it.

I still spray-painted the legs black, because I can’t help myself.

Regarding the sink, it is exactly as mediocre as you might expect. It is decidedly un-fancy. It’s very lightweight and therefore doesn’t feel solid or substantial, although I did screw it right into the wall to keep it stable. It stains REALLY easily and stubbornly. It’s also HUGE and was so cheap and I LOVE IT SO MUCH, UNAPOLOGETICALLY. But like, get something nicer if you can swing it. Tell me all about it.

The plumbing under the sink isn’t so great looking either, so I spent 10 minutes making it a little modesty skirt. It’s just a tea towel folded in half with some velcro pinned to it, so it’s all easily removable and the tea towel is intact whenever I want it to be a tea towel again.

Maybe I’ll make a bunch of them so I can change the sink’s outfits seasonally. Hawt lewks for my stained plastic tub sink.

I hung up an old mirror just behind the sink to provide a little backsplash. Problem solved! I kinda love those little plastic clips that hold it up—they were a couple bucks at the hardware store but feel so 60s kitschy. Like not something you should be able to still go buy.

I put up a shelf! My pal Anna gave me like six of those IKEA brackets when she moved and they’ve just been cluttering my basement since. They were white and I spray painted them black and hung them up with some brass screws. Cute! I don’t think IKEA still makes these exact ones, but these are really similar.

The wood came off of the house at some point over the course of renovation, but I’m really struggling to remember what it did in its former life. I guess it doesn’t matter. I gave it a quick sand and a few coats of shellac and BOOM, shelf.

On the shelf is an assortment of things I have accumulated in my short but hoard-y lifetime. The yellowware bowls are antique—one holds detergent pods and the other holds those Affresh tablets that are supposed to rid the washing drum of that swamp smell in the summer. This is to prove once again that I will decant anything.

Tucked into the mirror frame are my two Laundry Idols, my mother below and my grandmother above. My grandma’s favorite task was laundry, and she passed much of her wisdom on to my mother, and I feel some grave sense of duty to, like, not ruin my clothes and bring shame on the family. So they watch over the goings-ons in this room.

I’m sorry I’m not sorry for loving that portrait but I can’t help myself. Her expression is SO GOOD. I bought her at an auction (I think I paid ten actual American greenbacks for that!), and then they told me the staining was because someone was storing her in a laundry room and she got bleach spilled on her. So it seemed right to carry on the grand tradition of this poor little old lady getting stuck in the laundry room, but maybe with a little more respect this time around.

I love my little hooks! These just came from various closets and stuff around the house, I don’t know. The long Turkish towel hides the supply lines which are hooked up under the sink.

Here we find a small sampling of my childhood collection of dog figurines. I’ve gotten rid of most of them, but some were actually kind of cool and maybe I’m pulling it off and maybe I’m not but I don’t care. It’s sort of fun seeing these guys again.

OH RIGHT, THAT HUGE SLAB OF MARBLE. So here’s the deal. Craigslist, $300. It’s a little over 5’x3′, and I bought it with the intention of it being my kitchen island (and therefore not considering it part of the money spent on this room). It’s 2″ thick and came out of this contractor’s garage, where he’d been storing it for the same purpose for the last 30 years. He got it out of another contractor’s garage who’d also been storing it for 30 years, also for that same purpose! The original contractor had pulled it out of a Victorian-era candy shop that was being demolished—can you imagine that?! So ANYWAY it’s huge and probably weighs 400 pounds and I needed to put it SOMEWHERE since custom-kitchen-island is still a ways away, so I just put it right on top of the machines.

I recognize that this sounds like a very bad idea, but I figured….hey. If the washer can stack on top of the dryer, SURELY it can handle a 400 pound slab of natural stone, right??? So I did it, and it’s been three months, and it hasn’t budged, and the machines didn’t collapse, so obviously there’s nothing to worry about here. Lol. If I ever need to call LG out for service, let’s keep this between us OK?

The marble is COVERED in 100 years worth of dings and scratches and pitting and I think that’s pretty perfect, personally. I’ll likely want to seal it with SOMETHING but I’m not super concerned about it continuing to age and patina.

I bought those two big hooks years ago, and it turned out they they make a good rack for the ironing board and iron! For the ~2 times per year that I use them.

There wasn’t really a great spot in this laundry room to hang the drying rack I had in my old laundry room, so instead I put up my Eames Hang-it-All! Anything that needs to dry flat can go on the marble, and anything that needs to be hung can go on a hanger off of this. I love my Hang-it-All and it’s so nice the be using it again after it collected dust for a few years!

It’s hard to get a good picture of, but that little tiny closet under the stairs is my new cleaning cupboard! Those stainless steel shelves used to hang in Anna’s kitchen in Newburgh—they were part of the GRUNDTAL series at IKEA but I’m not sure they still make them. The red bucket has all the cleaning basics so I can carry it around from room to room when I clean and it feels SO ADULT I can’t even stand myself. A cleaning caddy of my very own! Talk about peak experiences.

I mentioned this before, but I re-painted the floor from white (WHICH MADE ME INSANE) to this soft Farrow & Ball pink called “Setting Plaster.” I love it! Painted floors do show a lot of dirt and dust no matter what, I think, but shifting away from white makes it much more manageable. And the rug! I have a weird soft spot for old braided rugs—they just feel so homespun and sweet. I think this one was $10 a while ago and it happens to be the PERFECT size for this room.

OH! And this is neither here nor there, but I did want to circle back on the now-painted-white-but-originally-PURPLE XP drywall I used in this room! This is the Soundbreak XP, which is recommended for rooms you want to contain noise in (or keep it out of), and it’s GREAT. My bedroom is on the other side of this wall, and I really can’t hear the machines when they’re on at all. Cars just driving down the street are louder! I do get a bit of structural vibration during the spin cycles, but nothing dramatic. Everything I was worried about with moving the machines upstairs has thus far turned out to be completely fine. Better than fine! Because I have laundry again!

And it’s sorta cute, IMHO.

The Laundry Room, 2018 Edition! published first on https://carpetgurus.tumblr.com/