#I love the idea that he’s a big reader and reads a ton of science fiction and fantasy

[the-balloon-shed]

look, people can have whatever headcanons they want (this whole blog is devoted to my own brainrot over icemav because I needed an outlet, I love all the different stuff out there and wanted to contribute) but I do have a hard time picturing Ice being the world's most upstanding student with his pencils sharpened and teacher's pet vibe that I sometimes see attributed to him. I get that he's ice cold, no mistakes, but that has to do wit his flying. I think when it comes to flying, yeah, he fucking knows everything about that plane, about how it flies, about what he needs to do. He's devoted to the act of flying, of being a naval aviator, of being the best pilot there is.

On the ground though? Yeah, he'll do everything textbook -- so long as it keeps him flying. But a guy who is willing to cause a class laughter by coughing "bullshit" into his fist as another student explains his process to their instructor is not a guy who is concerned with being a teacher's pet. I've seen it around here, so I'm not the first to note this, but honestly Ice looks bored in the classes. Hell he spends half his class staring at Maverick. The difference between Ice and Maverick is that Ice does care enough to know the rules and can be compliant when it suits his goals. Maverick will blatantly disregard rules he doesn't agree with and doesn't know when to keep a lid on his own perspective.

(Side note - People who climb the military ladder, I imagine as I do not personally know, don't do so merely by keeping their head down -- Ice has to take risks and challenges that get him noticed, which sometimes means pissing off people, with which how often he's a brat to Maverick he is clearly capable of doing. I think the difference between Ice and Maverick is that Ice knows how to play the game and knows when is the right time to piss off people and knows how to do it within the regulations and best tactics. Maverick -- Maverick can't keep an opinion to himself, and does things he feels are the right thing to do, regardless of the consequences. )

Also going based off of other knowledge I've seen on tumblr explaining what the Academy is which Ice apparently went to, it's (allegedly) a pretty prestigious school that's hard to get into. Which makes me think, personally, that Ice had exceptional grades for a long time, and probably even did advanced physics and aerodynamics already. These classes might be even easy for him, or at least nothing new. He pays attention as much as he needs to, but for the most part, he's already got it. (I personally like to headcanon that he would regularly get best scores on exams while at the Academy, or maybe even had a friendly competition with Cougar as to who would be the best academically, and maybe even helped tutor other students -- which would be a decent precursor to him being a teacher at TOPGUN)

Which I think is why Ice finds Maverick so compelling. Maverick gets all this, seems to be a damn good visualizer, and he didn't go to the academy. Ice worked his ass off, but Maverick had to overcome genuine barriers due to his family history, and did so while doing absolutely off the wall shit that Ice would have never even considered. The thing that draws Ice to Maverick? Maverick is the farthest thing from boring. Even if he is lying about flying upside down -- which despite Ice saying "bullshit" I think at least part of that is just reactive disbelief because holy shit, what if he actually did? -- it's still entertaining. Breaks up from the monotony. Catches his attention.

And then when he watches Maverick fly and realizes, jesus christ, he probably did fly his plane upside down. He flew his plane upside down and taunted the shit out of the enemy. And because this is the 80s, and toxic masculinity, instead Ice channels that feeling of kind of awe into antagonism because how else is he going to do it. So he asks Maverick, "who was covering Cougar while you were showboating?"

And the thing is that Maverick takes it in stride. He listens pretty politely. honestly, I think he notices the fact that Ice -- Goose's proclaimed "best" -- is paying attention to him. Even if it is by being an asshole, it doesn't stop the fact that Ice doesn't do that to anyone else. He keeps to his lane. They're teammates, they're all on the same side, but other than Slider it doesn't seem like Ice takes much of a personal interest in anyone. But he does in Maverick.

It's the fascination that makes the Icemav for me. The intrigue. Maverick asking Goose who he thinks is the best, and Goose points out Iceman, and Iceman backs it up because he flies textbook perfectly. Iceman having heard about Maverick, acknowledging that Mav and Goose were notorious, and discovering why and being compelled by it. The rivalry between the two that comes from really, being two sides of the same coin. They both want to fly, badly. They both want to be the best. They both have very different understandings and beliefs of how one becomes that, and even what the best means. They both recognize that the other is a threat to their own goal. And once the competition is over -- well. Damn. Who else do they want on their wing than this person who has earned their respect, impressed them, who they've come to understand, and with whom went through so much together?

(And if there's a hell of a lot of sexual tension and confusing romantic feelings along the way, well -- that's just even more fun)

[nishayuro]

Dr.Stone Stanley Snyder as a campus crush in High School

A/N: Another Stanley?!?!? My friend cosplayed high school Stan and I got this idea lmaoo. Also, late Valentine's day post

Fem!reader, use of she/her

Genre: Fluff, Crack-ish

Warning: Obsessive girls

Tall, Handsome, Athletic, Cool. The list of why almost every girl in their high school liked Stanley Snyder. He was eye candy, his voice was deep and attractive, he was smart and he was mysterious enough that it kept others on their toes. These were some of the many reasons why he was dubbed “Campus Crush” by the students.

There were men who loathed him, envied him, and insulted him (though not to his face, they know he can pack a punch. Tried and tested.) Stanley didn't care, he wasn't the type to care about these things. His days revolved around guns, helping Xeno, and you.

You, who he's been in love with for years. You, who didn't care about those trivial things about him, you cared more about him as a person. You, who has seen his darkest days and still stayed. You, who he's been dating for about a year and a half now. No wonder his attention was all yours (and Xeno’s, but that's a bit different.)

Stanley never hid that he cared about you, he was obvious, and that angered a lot. To the others, you were just someone random, someone who wasn't special. You weren't any big name like captain of the cheer team, or queen bee and you weren't one of the popular kids. They hated that you had Stanley for yourself, they hated that he was head over heels for you. That should be them in your shoes, It's only right! You were a nobody and they couldn't accept their dashing prince to be claimed by some commoner in their eyes.

Valentine's day came, and like normal teenage girls with a crush, they decided to give stuff to Stanley. Expensive chocolates, random gifts that they think he’d like, and love letters confessing their undying love (or what Xeno likes to call, unyielding obsession.)

His locker was annoyingly filled to the brim with pink and red envelopes, this desk was overflowing with sweets and snacks. Girls were lingering outside his classroom just to get a glimpse of him. He hated the attention if he was being honest, he disliked being followed around, stopped every hour and confessed to or whatever.

Last valentines, he got more than 20 letters asking for him to meet them at the rooftop. A bit cliché, and honestly? not a very private area considering a shit ton of people bring others there too. He didn't read those letters, you and Xeno did, out loud for him too.

You three decided to hang out at Xeno’s place after school after convincing Stanley to not throw away the gifts. He met you with a questioning gaze, to which you replied with “Entertainment. It's gonna be a fun night!” The chocolates were sprawled across the floor, different brands and different flavors, some expensive and some home made. Cookies and cupcakes were set on a plate, Xeno and you were already beginning to eat them.

“So, why’d you want me to not throw away the gifts? I understand the food, but the letters?” Stanley asked, sitting on Xeno’s bed as you and the aspiring scientist were on the floor, surrounded by the letters. “Well, Xee and I were curious about them! We wanna see the type of stuff the girls write to you.” you replied, holding one letter. “Oh? and why? jealous are we, y/n?” Stan teased, a smirk on his painted lips. “Ha! As if, you barely acknowledge them. You’ve chased after me for years! I'm secure enough.” you answered, and that's true. You knew Stanley was the loyal type, he courted you for years before you answered him and made him your boyfriend. And he hasn't done anything that would warrant your jealousy.

“Good. But even you, Xee? this isn't exactly your topic of interest?” Stan answered, looking at his best friend curiously. “I'm currently researching the science of attraction. It's tied heavily to the body’s chemical reaction so I need data on it. What better way than reading through letters of unfiltered confessions by hormonal teenage girls?” Xeno answered swiftly.

“Ohh, ok let's start with this one… ‘Dear Stanley, since the day I first laid my eyes on you, I have fallen deeply in love with you. You are like the stars in the sky, shining heavily. Please give me a chance!’ “ you read out the letter from a sparkly pink envelope.

“Love at first sight, common. That happens when you see something you like, or in this case, someone attractive enough to like, and your body releases the happy hormones like Dopamine and Oxytocin, which gives the giddy and excited feeling.” Xeno explained.

“This one just reads ‘please meet me at the rooftop after class, xoxo’ “ You continued, going through the whole pile. “In total, you have received 54 love letters and 16 notes. 32 of which asked you to meet with them somewhere, mostly the school’s rooftop.” Xeno read out the tally he was keeping count.

“This excites you guys? reading nonsense given to me? At this point y/n, I'm kinda sad you don't feel jealous. You just gonna let them talk about your man like that?” Stan teased again, he was now laying on the bed, his phone on his stomach after scrolling through it while you read the letters.

“Eh, they can say all they want. In the end, you're still mine after all.” you smiled. “Plus, imagine a bunch of girls just waiting for you up at the rooftop only for you to be a no show? bet they are fighting over themselves now?” you chuckled. “If only we knew sooner, we could have installed hidden cameras and microphones there.” Xeno added.

Back to the present, he was still facing the same dilemma. Knowing what would happen today, you gave Stanley a big tote bag to put all the gifts in, which will be consumed by you and Xeno later today.

“Hey Stan~” a feminine voice spoke, he didn't bother looking at the direction, he knew who it was and what they wanted. He just laid his head on his arms and closed his eyes. “Stan? Stanleyyy!” the voice continued, now poking him. It was getting irritating, he looked up and glared at the person, making them flinch, but regained their posture immediately. “Hey~ I was wondering if you wanna go with me to this new dessert place downtown today” the girl asked, twirling her hair. “Nah, not interested.” Stan spoke, “Why? don't like sweets? that's fine, we can find somewhere else!” she exclaimed, hopeful. “No, I mean I ain't interested in going anywhere with you, or anyone else for that matter.” He answered sharply, leaving the girl confused.

“But why? It's Valentine's day!” she argued, “Yea exactly, which is why i’ll be spending it with my partner and not some random girl who won't stop bothering me.” Stan answered, annoyed at this point. “P-partner?” the girl was shocked. “Yea, partner. Y/N. You are either dense or just deny that fact. We aren't exactly a secret or private.” Stan replied. “Her?! Why her? you can do so much bett-” Stanley didn't even let her finish what she was saying when he signaled her to stop.

“Say one bad thing about them and you're done for. Scram.” Stan ordered, his voice sharp, leaving no room for discussion. The girl went back to her seat, almost in tears. The whole room witnessed it, how could they not? It was Stanley Snyder rejecting someone and revealing he has a partner. (To which Xeno replied with “Humans do love ignoring facts when it's not beneficial to them” when Stanley recalled this encounter later that day.)

News of this spread like wildfire. The girls who hated you back then because you were taking Stanley’s attention were for sure plotting your downfall now that Stanley himself confirmed your relationship. The glares sent your way were harsher than usual. But you didn't care, you kind of liked their anger.

Until you were cornered in the bathroom, typical American scenario. “Stay away from Snyder.” one of the girls said, you recognised her to be the school’s proclaimed queen bee or whatever, you didn't care. “oh? stay away from MY boyfriend?” you emphasized. “You bitch! you stole him from me!” She screamed at you, attempting to slap you, you caught her wrist in time. “Oh honey, he doesn't even know your name.” you answered, twisting her arm.

Her minions tried to hold you down, but you held them off of you (Stanley taught you self defense, you didn't realize you'd be using it on desperate popular girls trying to steal your lover.) “Why don't you leave me alone, and I don't tell Stan about this encounter and make him ignore y’all more than he already does, how does that sound, hmm?” you asked, holding the queen bee’s face in your hands. “Oh well, you don't get to choose. I'm not some soft, easily threatened person. Xeno is my best friend, I've been through more threatening things in my life.” you added, before walking out the door.

Later that day, you told Stan and Xeno about the encounter in the comfort room as you and Xeno opened letters. Stan was furious, they crossed the line. Xeno was already plotting revenge. You reassured them both that you handled it and will handle it in the future.

Stan decided to post something on his social media, which he rarely does. It was a photo of you two. With the caption, “Forever♥️ Hurt them and you're dead to me.”

Stan might have lots of eyes on him, but that means nothing to the man whose loyalty knows no bounds. His eyes are only on you. He knew he was yours since that day you shot that nerf bullet directly at his forehead when you were 10 years old.

Bonus scene:

“Due to us not being ready last year, I decided to be ready this year! I set up cameras and microphones on the rooftop. Though, I think the number of people who will still want to ‘meet you at the rooftop’ has lessened since the news of you two officially being together has spread.” Xeno announced, opening his laptop to open the camera feed.

To his surprise, there are still at least 20 girls up there. All glaring at each other and questioning why they're there. Everyone answered the same name, “Stanley Snyder”

“Babe, you should post a story about us right now. Pretend we're on a date or something. Watch their moods fall.” You said, an evil smile on your face.

“Well, c’mere then.” Stan beckoned you next to him on the bed, you crawled your way to his arms and wrapped yours around him. Stan took the photo as Xeno set up the TV to make it look like a movie date, which Stan took a photo of as well. “I’ll put ‘movie date with the loml’ with a cheesy song.” Stan said as you laughed. “Anddd, posted.” Stan announced, you three looking back at Xeno’s laptop and waiting for the girls’ reaction.

“Stanley posted?!” One of them said, opening the story. “Movie date with the love of my life…” one other read out. “We've stood up again!” another exclaimed, almost crying. “Stood up my ass, I didn't ask any of you to go there.” Stan muttered, with you and Xeno laughing. “Oh Stanley Snyder, you are a cruel cruel man.” You joked, giving your man a kiss.

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[niki-phoria]

i would love to see a heeseung x m!reader fic that have an academic rivals to lovers trope when they're both fighting for the valedictorian spot and both realizes their feelings for each other🥰🥰

he's so AKNENSKLNS sir pls have mercy i beg of you

pairing: student!heeseung x student!male!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of internalized homophobia

includes: reader being bad at math (specifically calculus), heeseung being good at math (specifically calculus), pls notice how i tried to reference the beginning at the end of the fic lmao i hope the self insertness of this one isn't too obvious

got a ton of inspo from this prompt list by @urfriendlywriter !!

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i really like the rivals to lovers trope but this is mostly pining oops this idea is really cute :)) i hope you like it <33

requests open !! read my rules first

lee heeseung.

you’ve been competing with him for the acclaimed position as valedictorian since he first arrived at your high school with big brown doe eyes three years ago. despite never really interacting with him, an unspoken rivalry had formed between you over the years. his presence alone seemed to drive you into wanting to be better than him. 

which is exactly why your current situation was less than ideal. 

“i’m sorry, y/n,” mina sighs. she had been your seatmate for the past month. you almost envied her ability to master any subject without studying nearly as much as you did. “i don’t really understand it either.” you can barely hide your disappointment at yet another failed attempt to find a study partner for your upcoming calculus test. math was never your best subject. “maybe you can ask heeseung. i’ve heard he’s really good at it. and he does tutoring on the side!” 

“yeah, maybe.” you glance over your shoulder at said boy. he’s sitting at his desk, flipping through a textbook as you wait for the bell to ring and officially release you from the class. 

you glance down at the set of problems you need to learn before sighing once again. they’re too complex for you to learn in time for your final exam and you can’t risk losing top spot. not when you’re so close to graduation. 

the shrill ring of the bell confirms your decision for you. you quickly shove the textbook into your bag before walking over to heeseung. “hey,” you say. 

he startles, looking up at you with wide eyes. they mirror the nervousness you had first seen in him on the first day of school when he awkwardly stumbled through the various hallways in search of his classes. “hi.” his voice is sweet as he greets you. 

“i’m really sorry to ask but i could use some help on the latest unit,” your hands anxiously play with your backpack straps. “mina said you tutor people on the side and i wasn’t sure who else to ask.” 

“i’d love to help,” to your surprise, heeseung agrees immediately. he smiles at you as he stands up. “when are you free? we can meet up at a coffee shop or something.” 

“i have some time tonight. i’ll meet you by the south doors?” 

“sounds good. i’ll see you there.” 

“great!” you watch as heeseung slips away into the crowd, making his way to his next class among the sea of students. you’re quick to follow his lead, clutching your bag a little tighter as you walk across the school to your own classroom - history. 

after a short introduction, your teacher writes down a group of pages in your textbook to take notes from. as you scan through the various different paragraphs to search for any relevant information to write down your mind drifts. 

your building anxiety about your math final is soon overtaken by heeseung. you’ve always found him handsome - ever since you first saw him when he was accidentally late to your science class because he had gotten lost in the school’s corridors. you had drowned yourself in your studies in a poor attempt to forget about him, soon replacing any concerns about making friends or potential romantic relationships with hours of meticulous notetaking and practice quizzes. 

heeseung had gotten taller over the years you had spent in school together. he had grown his hair out from a blunt bowl cut. the strands framed his face perfectly; even when disheveled after a rough gym class or a long night of studying. his voice had gotten deeper, too. you had slowly watched his interests evolve in the form of rotating keychains hanging off of his backpack. 

despite all of the changes you had noticed, some things remained the same. heeseung had kept the same friend group throughout the years - six other boys you often found yourself jealous of, though you were never fully sure why. he had taken choir and music theory every year. sometimes you passed by him playing basketball while you were walking home. during your brief interactions, he had remained the same quiet, kind, studious boy you shared a few classes with. 

your thoughts are interrupted by the final ring of the bell. you make a mental note to finish taking your notes once you get home as you quickly shove your things into your backpack before making your way to the south entrance. 

heeseung is already standing there by the time you arrive. he shoves his phone into his pocket, greeting you with another sweet smile. “ready to go?” 

“yeah.” you walk side by side in silence as heeseung leads you to a small local coffee shop you hadn’t noticed before. vines crawl along the walls, creating a calming atmosphere as you sit down at a table in the corner. quiet ambient noise plays from unseen speakers. 

heeseung slides a cup over to you before sitting down across from you. you take a small sip from it, pleasantly surprised at the taste. “it’s good,” you say. “thank you.” 

“i’m glad,” he smiles, pulling his own textbook out of his bag. “so, which concept do you want to start with?” 

you quickly find yourself falling into a routine with heeseung. every tuesday and thursday you meet him by the south entrance of school before walking to the same coffee shop and working through a new concept until you’ve mastered it. 

over time, your meetings had become less about studying and slowly turned into time you spending time laughing and joking around with each other. you had memorized his coffee order after your second meeting. by the fourth you had moved to sit next to him. 

you were increasingly aware of your upcoming math exam as the weeks went by. though you’re grateful for the help, a part of you was disappointed at potentially not seeing heeseung as much as you do currently. it had been nearly two months since you had first begun meeting up. 

your hands accidentally brush against each other, causing a spark of electricity to pass through your body. in the corner of your eye you can see a growing flush spread across heeseung’s cheeks. his reaction makes you smile a little. maybe he also gets nervous around you.

“sorry,” he whispers. 

you shake your head. “don’t be.” 

heeseung turns to face you, staring until you turn to look at him as well. he doesn’t look away as you make eye contact. instead, he shifts slightly so he’s a little closer to you. 

something about him makes you nervous. at some point during your meetings your pristine perfect student persona slipped away, exposing you. the real you -. a teenage boy desperate to be the best, even when your social life suffered and after you lost count of the countless amount of nights you had spent staying up far too late to study. 

heeseung’s eyes just barely flicker from yours down to your lips. the flush on his ears deepens when you unconsciously lick them. he leans in a little closer; almost as if he’s testing the limits of your relationship. you don’t pull away. instead, you reciprocate heeseung’s actions, further minimizing the small space between you. 

“heeseung,” you whisper. 

his eyes shift back up to yours for a second. “y/n,” he raises a hand to cup your cheek. “can i kiss you?” 

you don’t trust your mouth to say any of the words running through your mind. your feelings make sense now. the jealousy over heeseung’s friends, why you’re so nervous around him, the sparks when you touch him. 

years of denial and repressed feelings are ignored as you refocus on heeseung’s lips. they’re tinted a light pink. you desperately want to know what it would feel like to love him. to be loved by him. 

finally, you nod, letting your eyes flutter shut as heeseung slowly leans forwards to pull you into a sweet kiss. his lips feel soft as they gently press against your own. the small sparks of electricity you got from touching his hand are amplified. happiness courses through you. it’s a feeling stronger than you ever thought was possible before. 

you’re nearly panting when he finally pulls away, staring at you with a small smile. you can’t help the way your lips quirk upwards into one of your own. “i love you,” he whispers. 

your response comes in the form of another sweet kiss. you’re both smiling into it, though neither of you mind. suddenly it feels like everything makes sense. love. 

you’re in love with lee heeseung.

[reidingandwriting]

"Deja Vu"

Word Count: ~2300 words

Ship: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader (ex/platonic?), Peter Parker x Michelle Jones

Warnings: A curse word or two, slightly OOC moments but it is fan-fiction so :)

A/N: I'm in love with this song and had to write this. Popped this baby out in 3 hours, and I'm pretty happy with it. Side note: I created my own timeline for this lmao. Morgan exists, but they don't live in the cabin. Reader is mentioned to be fem once or twice, but reads neutral besides that! Reader is Tony's kid but it could be read as adopted/his bio kid.

“One strawberry ice cream, just for you.” Peter said as he set the cup down in front of MJ, a single spoon dipped in the light pink dessert. MJ immediately started to eat as Peter took a seat beside her, and you and Ned were seated across from the couple at a local ice cream shop you had discovered. The one where you had taken him, where you had convinced him to try the strawberry ice cream instead of the vanilla he always got. You scooped a spoonful of your rocky road ice cream a little too aggressively, unable to eat your favorite ice cream flavor anymore.

“Thanks, Parker, it’s really good.” MJ said and Peter nudged her shoulder.

“Mind if I steal a bite?’

“Of course I mind.” MJ deadpanned and Peter blanched before MJ smirked at him. “Go ahead, loser. Just one.” MJ gave him a look and Peter saluted.

“Scout’s honor.” Peter took MJ’s spoon before he took a bite, and you barely held back the scowl as you looked over at Ned. He gave you a sympathetic smile and tapped his foot against yours under the safety of the booth. You brushed your shoulder against Ned’s while Peter and MJ were too entranced by each other to notice.

“If you get any ice cream on my jacket, I’m burning yours.” MJ’s words were menacing, but you all knew she was (mostly) kidding. Peter scoffed and held his hand against his chest in mock offense, the sleeves of MJ’s jean jacket comedically too short on Peter’s arms. MJ was dressed in Peter’s Midtown hoodie, the same one you had worn just a few months ago.

You thought it would have been funny to switch jackets, knowing your jacket would look funny on him, while you wore Peter’s oversized hoodie. And now here was MJ, wearing the same sweatshirt, while Peter wore her jacket. Have any original ideas, Parker?

“Earth to Y/N.” MJ waved her hand in your face, and you snapped back to the present. “You okay? You zoned out there for a minute.”

“Yeah, sorry. Morgan decided she wanted a sleepover last night, so we just had to build a pillow fort in my room, and that felt fantastic on my back. Almost as great as her practically laying on top of me all night.” You chuckled. “And you know I couldn’t move her, she’s got me wrapped around her finger.”

“And she knows it.” Peter said and you smiled over at him.

“Speaking of Morgan. She’s been asking me all week about if you want to come over sometime this weekend. She’s in a big Lion King phase, and she wants ‘her Petey’ to come have a pajama party with her and have a sing-along. She’s Nala, of course.” Ned snorted and Peter’s face fell.

“I can’t this weekend. MJ and I are having a Glee watch party this weekend, can you believe she’s never seen Glee?” Peter asked and you felt a pang of jealousy in your stomach.

“Oh, really?” You asked. Much like you hadn’t seen it either, until six months ago. “It’s pretty iconic, but also the worst show ever. Singing along is pretty fun, just being annoying. Really fun.” You thought back to when you and Peter were in your room, doing the same thing.

“Don’t stop believing!” Peter stood on your bed, using the remote as a microphone to serenade you. Peter looked at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes before singing the next line, just as enthusiastically as he did.

“Hold on to the feeling!” Peter cheered and you couldn’t help but laugh at him. “You’re so annoying, Parker.”

“As annoying as this show?”

“Almost.”

“Then I’m not quite done yet.”

“Raincheck next weekend, maybe?” Peter asked and you shrugged.

“I’ll have to check with Madame Secretary. She’ll likely be over The Lion King by next weekend, it’ll be ‘baby stuff.’” Your phone buzzed and you excused yourself before checking the text.

Iron Dad: Hey, kid. Are you busy?

You: A little. Why?

Iron Dad: Pep and I have an emergency meeting for work, and Happy’s sick so he can’t watch Maguna

You: I’m on my way. Give me five to say goodbye

Iron Dad: Thanks, Y/N/N. We owe you one

You: You owe me several. Love you

Iron Dad: Love you tons

“I’m sorry, guys, duty calls.” You smiled, albeit a little sadly, at your friends. “I’ll see you Monday at school?”

“We better. We have a project in chemistry due on Monday.” Ned said and you flipped him off.

“Science is my best class, you know I’ve had the project done and Dr. Banner approved since the project was announced in class.” You winked at Ned before waving at MJ and Peter. “See you later, lovebirds.” You internally cringed when ‘lovebirds’ came out more bitter than you intended. With goodbyes exchanged, you left the ice cream parlor, and you bit back the tears you felt beginning to build up. Did he feel it, too? Did he remember that you did that, too? Was he ever going to tell her all the ‘unique’ things Peter’s done were reused, that you had found them first? You wiped at your eyes before you hailed a taxi, and you shoved all your feelings down to be at your best for your little sister.

--

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Morgan barreled down the hall when you stepped out of the elevator, and you barely bent down to catch her in time as she collided with you.

“Morgan, Morgan, Morgan!” You scooped your sister up into your arms and peppered her face with kisses until she was laughing, and your mood immediately lifted at the sound. “Where’s Mom and Dad?”

“Mom’s at work, Dad’s in his room. He’s leaving us.” Morgan pouted and you copied her expression.

“Oh, no. You’re stuck with me tonight. Too bad I’m not tall enough to reach the juice pops in the freezer.” You gasped. “Oh, wait. I am!” Morgan thrusted her fist into the air with a cheer, and you set her down. “I need to go talk to Dad real quick, then we can do almost whatever you want.” You emphasized the almost, knowing she’d ask for something you definitely shouldn’t do, then argue that you said ‘anything.’ You definitely saw a career in law for her when she got older.

“Kay-kay. I’ll go get coloring books, then we get juice pops?”

“Deal.” You offered your pinky out, and she linked pinkies with yours before she ran off to her room. You shook your head fondly before you walked off to your dad’s room, and you knocked on his door before coming in. “Dad?”

“Hey, kiddo. Come on in, I’m just packing a few things for Pep.” You walked over to the bag your dad had packed, and you began to inspect everything. “Have I been approved?”

“I think I need a hug before giving approval.” You opened your arms and your dad happily pulled you into his chest, and he held you close, as if he could sense your feelings.

“Are you okay? Do I need to stay?” Tony rubbed your back and rocked you gently, and you buried your face deeper into his chest, your eyes watering and you gripped his shirt tighter, a habit you developed when Tony first took you in- you always grabbed onto him like he was your security blanket, and Tony quickly learned there was no use in getting you to let go until you were ready.

“No, I’m okay.” Your voice was muffled but you made no effort to move yet. “Mom needs you.” You paused. “You’ll be back soon, right?”

“Luckily we’re just headed to the New York headquarters. I hope we’re home by midnight, but I’ll tell you when we find out for sure.” You nodded and let go of your dad, and he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, and he wiped your tears away with his thumb and the action almost made you cry again. “Ben and Jerry’s and sad movies when I get back, or should I get a few punching bags set up in the gym?”

“Ben and Jerry’s.” Tony nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you patted his arm, telling him he could continue packing. “ Don’t forget Mom’s favorite lipstick. She always keeps one on her, but you can never be too safe.”

“Lifesaver.” Tony said before he went back to packing.

“I should go check on Morgan, let you finish getting packed.” You said and Tony smiled at you, a softness in his eyes reserved solely for you, Morgan, and Pepper.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best big sister?”

“I do my best.” You smile back before leaving. Fingers crossed she hadn’t made a mess already.

--

You laid in bed, scrolling through your camera roll with tears streaming down your cheeks. You pressed play on a video and let out a choked sob as you watched. You and Peter were seated at the piano in the living room, and your fingers moved gracefully across the keys, playing one of your favorite songs that Peter had begged you to play for him. The familiar sounds of Billy Joel’s ‘Uptown Girl’ filled your ears, and you sang along as you played. You turned to Peter, nodded at him, and he began to play the same song after you. You hugged him at the end of the song, grinning since he had finally learned it, and you began to play it again, Peter joining you in singing along. Not even that was reserved for you and him anymore, as you had learned recently.

“I didn’t know you played.” You said as MJ took a seat at the piano, Peter seated beside her.

“Oh, I just learned. Peter taught me the one song he knows how to play.” Your heart sank and now Ned was curious.

“What song?” Don’t say it, don’t say it.

“Uptown Girl.” MJ began to play, and you felt your lip begin to tremble. Your song. The one you had taught him. You looked away as Peter quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek after the first chorus, and he whispered something into her ear. You turned to Ned and dove deep into a conversation, refusing to cry in front of them.

You jumped when you heard a knock on your window, and you grabbed the baseball bat you kept by your bed. You would have called for Bucky or Sam, but the pair were off on their own mission. You got out of bed, wiping away your tears, and you walked to the window, bat at the ready. “FRIDAY, who’s getting knocked to next year with my bat?”

“It appears Peter Parker is the one outside your window.” Peter? Of course it was.

“Lights on dim, FRI.” You set the bat down and opened the window, and Peter popped into view. “Peter? What the hell? You almost gave me a heart attack, dude.”

“I’m sorry, I know, sorry. I didn’t plan on coming out here, but I needed to talk to you.” You gestured for Peter to come in, and you suddenly realized how you had to look to him. You were in a shirt you had stolen from Thor- what? His shirt got mixed up with yours, finders keepers. You were in an old pair of sweatpants that were covered in various stains- paint from Morgan, some grease from Tony’s lab, and a bleach mark from where you and Peter were goofing around in the lab and you spilled some mystery chemical on your pants. And let’s not even talk about your puffy eyes and the tear marks on your cheeks from a night of crying.

“About what?” You sat on your bed, eyes not meeting Peter’s.

“About earlier at the ice cream parlor. You seemed really… spaced out. Not yourself. And I caught you scowling once.”

“I didn’t scowl.” You tried to defend yourself but you sighed, knowing he was right.

“And ever since MJ and I started dating, you’ve just seemed different. You’re not, like, jealous, are you?” And you couldn’t help but laugh. Truly laugh, which caused Peter’s brows to furrow. “What’s so funny?”

“You think I’m jealous! Why should I be jealous?” Peter frowned at how you weren’t taking him seriously, and he was confused.

“You know, we had… a thing. Not that we dated, but I mean, we were really close you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Like a switch, your emotions flipped from sad to frustrated in seconds. “And I’m seeing all these ‘things’ we had all over again.” It was Peter’s turn to start getting irritated, and he crossed his arms.

“Oh, really? Like what?”

“Strawberry ice cream at the parlor, you can’t act like we didn’t do that. Trading jackets, we did that shit too. Teaching her piano when I taught you, how do you not get deja vu?” Peter opened his mouth to talk and you held your hand up. “You’ve got a different girl, but there’s nothing new. I discovered those places you take her, I showed you Glee, I taught you the jokes that you tell to her. When are you gonna tell her? She thinks it’s special, but it’s all reused. I know I get deja vu, don’t you?” You had started to cry again, and Peter started to defend himself until FRIDAY spoke.

“Y/N, your father and mother have returned home. You may want to continue this conversation later.” You looked at Peter who wordlessly nodded. He walked to the window, and he paused before he spoke.

“We’ll talk Monday after patrol. Bye, Y/N/N.” You whispered goodbye before he left and you shut the window before you dropped to your knees, letting out broken sobs.

“I get deja vu when she’s with you…”

[moxfirefly]

Hey there!

New to the TMNT fandom, love your work, thought I’d like to offer up an Idea that I haven’t seen many people talk about- The boy’s beds must be HUGE. Like, they are so big, can you imagine what their beds must be like? Huge, soft, probably different depending on the brother but that would be super fun to explore!

Donnie’s bed in particular- WOW, he’s so tall!

Not to mention that the reader would have tons of fun swimming in the expanse of their favorite turtle’s sheets if ya catch my drift~!

I love this! The guys do have beds we briefly see in OOTS but I suppose going off from that and adding my own spice ✨

Have you seen a more perfectly made bed? Honestly Leo wakes up and makes his bed and he’s very particular about it

The best blankets and the most, he likes being nice and toasty especially when winter rolls by

His mattress is a little on the firmer side so if that ain’t your style it’ll be a tad uncomfortable

All of them require big bed honestly because they are big lads, but Leo’s is a little on the one person side? I mean y’all can spoon happily but he never anticipated sharing his bed

Please do not eat on the bed, it’s his one rule

The best smelling sheets honestly he has a secret bottle of fabreeze

Look at this unit.

This man requires the bed of all beds, reinforced for good measure too.

S O F T MATTRESS

He likes sinking into the bed and feeling like on a cloud

Messy bed but he’ll pick it up a bit for you

Knitting stuff on it, he knitts a lot while there (once joked that he looked like a grandmother, you still laugh)

Needless to say he’s got some prime blankets in various textures for various weather demands.

Best Pillows. Raph needs a good pillow like that’s his one demand whenever they go for a supply run and bedding needs to be updated.

He loves nesting. He will sleep on you and he’ll want you to sleep on him

“What sociopath makes their bed???”

Food crumbs please do a courtesy wipe with your arm before getting in

Super hero bed sheets

He snagged a weighted blanket from a supply run and wow that thing is his baby

Valuables and mature material hidden beneath said mattress

pretty big bed consider he’s the shorty but he likes feeling he can swim in his own bed

Will give you the good pillow because he loves you 🥺

Will do anything and everything on his bed. Read, draw, play games, meditate, eat, I mean everything

Halfway between soft and firm. Lot’so pillows, like so many is why he don’t mind giving you the best ones

Donnie’s canon bed is my favorite so honestly I don’t wanna change it up much

I do think it should be modified to handle his length

But honestly does Donnie even use it? Shits made but it’s more because he hardly makes it there.

Soft mattress but not super soft. Good blanket, good pillows. You use it more than he does but it’s impossible to sleep when you’ve got so many gadgets and monitors and games.

So let’s go with the spare cot he’s got in the lab. That is literally what it is, a cot where he passes out. It’s decent, it does it’s job but it’s not necessarily the greatest. The pillow is so so but the blanket is good cause the lab tends to be cooler for science reasons. It’s like one of those army cots but he fits in it with a few modifications

It’s good for a quick nap to be honest

Somebody put this boy to bed he needs 8hrs ASAP

[gospelofme]

Amusing Vacation Tales

Cody x female reader

You two had spent Life Day alone last year. And the year before that. And the year before that. This year you gave in, you two were engaged now after all. You both had taken time off from work and here you were, at your parents’ house. You were propped up against your headboard, looking through an old school notebook. Your fiancé, Marshal Commander Cody, was reclining on your bed; his head propped on your thighs. Over his head he held an old diary you had agreed to allow him to read.

“Just this one! The others are far too embarrassing!” You had said. After a few moments of silence, you heard a giggle.

“What?”

“Today in Science class, Jared asked me for a piece of flimsi. I loooooove how he is so nonconformist!” Cody read, pitching his voice higher to imitate a younger you. All of his brothers were amazing at imitations and he was no different.

“Shut up! I do not sound like that!” You said defensively with a smirk. You made to grab the diary and he turned away and continued to read aloud in his high pitched imitation.

“This Jared guy sounds so dreamy!” Cody teased.

“He was!” Cody paused and looked at you.

“But you’re sexy.” You whispered, your face close to his. You two had just started to make out when your dad walked in.

“Whoa!!! Hey you wild kids!” You both sprang apart quickly.

“Dinner is cookin’, courtesy of yours truly. And your mom has plenty of snacks laid out.” He added. You both answered in unison.

“Thanks dad!”

“Thanks sir!”

You both sat at a small table on the back patio. Onderon was in it’s fall rotation so the evening was comfortably cool. You were enjoying a nice, cold beer and munching on some snacks while your father worked the grill.

“So, when is the wedding?” Your sister-in-law asked.

“Uhm, we haven’t set a date yet.”

“Oh! It should be in the spring time!” She suggested.

“Well Cody has to deploy around that time.” You informed her. It was something you didn’t want to think about.

“Are you two going to have a baby!” Your mother asked. Cody coughed, you blushed. You had thought about it, but you didn’t know if that was something Cody wanted.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, Cody picked at the label on his beer. Your father changed the subject by announcing the food was ready.

With stomachs full, you relaxed next to your fiancé on some patio furniture. You were on your second beer, Cody was on his third. The conversation again turned towards babies, but in a more amusing topic.

“Well I heard if you want a girl, you put a wooden spoon and scissors under your bed and a pink bow under your pillow.” Your sister-in-law said.

“What?! How does that determine if it’s a girl?” You asked incredulously.

“Nah, the guys testicles have to be cool for a girl. Warm for a boy!” Your brother said. You noticed Cody unconsciously cross one leg over his knee.

“Yeah I don’t think that’s true.” He said with a skeptical look on his face.

“Well to get pregnant, they say that the missionary position is best. With your legs then elevated for 30 seconds. Or is it 20 minutes?” Your sister-in-law told you. You held your hands up,

“Whoa now, first of all, that’s a big difference in time. Second, I said we weren’t sure about kids. We aren’t even married yet so…”

“I know I know, I’m just informing the group.” She replied. You smirked and sipped your beer and watched the conversation continue with an amused smile.

“Well I heard you need to have sex in the morning, because the guy builds up his supply overnight.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s true either.”

“Cody, if you two decide to have a kid, you need to make sure you have sex as much as you can. Mainly because after a kid, that will be hard to work in.” Your sister-in-law offered. Cody shifted uncomfortably, a crooked smirk on his face and took a long drink of alcohol.

“Whoa whoa whoa. Babe, a man needs time to build up his troops between deployments.” Your brother quickly jumped in, placing a defensive hand on Cody’s shoulder. You busted out laughing and Cody spit out his beer.

“Oh my stars, that’s the best analogy I’ve ever heard!!” You wheezed. Cody was coughing and laughing at the same time.

“Holy kriff I can’t ever hear that phrase in any capacity at work now!” He managed to say after a moment.

You knew your family meant well, that they were just excited for you. You knew they’d never pressure you to have kids, but they would be excited if that’s what you decided. Of course, your brother and sister-in-law already had kids so your parents had grandkids to spoil. You both soon excused yourselves for the evening.

“Remember Cody, hold her legs up for 20 minutes! I checked!” Your sister-in-law yelled as you two went upstairs. She was promptly shushed by your mom and your dad made a noise of distress. You sarcastically laughed loudly.

Once in your old room, you settled down in under the covers. It was a close fit since your old bed wasn’t built for two people. You didn’t mind however, as you preferred to sleep close to your lover.

“I hope they didn’t make you too uncomfortable.” You whispered to him. He laughed lightly.

“You think that was vulgar? Babe, I’ve been living with a ton of guys who are way much more foul mouthed than that!” He replied.

“Good point.”

The rest of the trip was wonderful, full of laughs and memories. Cody blended into your family perfectly. They all loved him, even your aunts and uncles you arrived the following day.

It was over far too soon and you found yourself waking up to your alarm. Cody had left earlier to accost some rookies on their first day. You remember sleepily kissing him and telling him not to be too harsh. Your first day back at work after a vacation was uneventful. When you arrived home, you started dinner and then did some wedding planning. You had collected quite the stockpile of wedding holozines, tabbing things you liked. You were pretty much a do-it-yourself kind of person, preferring not to hire a professional.

Cody arrived home in the evening, tired but happy to see you. After dinner was eaten, Cody pampered you with a pedicure while you asked his opinion on table settings. You knew some of his men were married and while a couple guys had ceremonies, many had simply gone to the courthouse and signed forms.

“You sure you want to have a big wedding ceremony? We don’t have to if you’d rather-“

“I want to celebrate this. I haven’t celebrated anything really. I know it’s what you want too.” Your fiancé assured you. You smiled and continued looking at options.

Later that evening, you laid in bed awake. Cody didn’t snore, but slept quietly. While that was nice, it made it difficult to tell if he was awake.

“Babe? You awake.”

“Hmmm.” Came his tired response.

“Do you want kids?” You asked. The question had been echoing in your head since you had taken a shower hours before. He didn’t respond immediately, and you had started to think he hadn’t been fully awake to begin with. Just when you had started to try to get some sleep, he rolled over to face you. He looked at you thoughtfully.

“Maybe? Do you?”

“Maybe?” You confessed.

“I used to think that I’d be no good at that sort of thing, we weren’t created to be fathers ya know.” Cody explained. You gave a nod.

“But, I figured that if Fives can keep his kid alive, then I’d have a good shot at it.” Cody added with a smirk. You giggled.

“I don’t want to try for one though until after we’re married and I don’t have to deploy anytime soon.” Cody said, you nodded fervently.

“Oh I agree, I do not know how some of the other wives can do it by themselves.” You whispered. The idea of having to go through a pregnancy by yourself while your husband was away seemed stressful and overwhelming.

“I’m sure you’d be amazing, but I want to be here for things.” Cody assured you. You smirked as he pulled you to him, kissing your forehead.

“We can talk more about this later. Sleep now my love.” He whispered tiredly.

Tag list

@jgvfhl @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun

@baby-queen-zen @halzore @escapedthesarlacc

[cucumbers-and-olives]

When All Is Said And Done

⚠️stop! have you read part one, the winner takes it all yet? if not, click the link and read it cause idk if this will make much sense!

Summary: You slowly repair you relationship with Reggie as you get closer to the end of the show.

Category: high school au, musical au?

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Reggie x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings/Includes: mentions of cheating

A/N: this is for @reggiepetersappreciationweek day 5? whatever yesterday was, i have a trash memory, and i forgot to post this so... whoops!

(also @williexmercer asked to be tagged in this so.... ta da?)

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: ahhhh ty so so much @wrhen for helping me give this story the ending it deserved, i had no idea how to end it, so thank you!

AO3 link here (nope)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

Here's to us

One more toast

And then we'll pay the bill

Closing night was always a sad thing. But after the last three months, all of the drama, and the nightmares… You could tell that the smile on Reggie’s face was his, and he was happy. Truly happy.

Deep inside

Both of us

Can feel the autumn chill

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I want to explain, so I’ll be at our spot at 7 pm tomorrow.” You listened to his voicemail over and over, trying to decide if you should trust him this time. You got one of these voicemails every week on Monday. It had been a month since “the incident” and he wasn’t giving up.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I’ll be-” You tossed your phone at the wall as hard as possible, but with your bad luck it landed on the soft white sheets of your bed and you let out a scream. It was loud and heart-wrenching, and you collapsed into the shag carpet. The soft blue carpet he had bought for you when you found out you had landed the role.

And from your spot on the floor, there was the photo of the two of you that you had framed after your second date. When you knew he was the one. He had taken you to the fair, and one of his friends had come over to take a photo of the two of you, but someone had bumped into him, and there was a ton of bright pink cotton candy in his hair. That was your favorite moment with him.

You rolled over, and like a bad omen, your phone played the voicemail again. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I want to explain, so I’ll be at our spot at 7 pm tomorrow.” You had crawled onto your bed to turn it off when you heard him whisper something he hadn’t in any of the other voicemails. “I love you.”

As you lay down to sleep that night, your brain looped his words. I love you, I love you, I love you. I. Love. You.

He hadn’t ever said it before.

Birds of passage

You and me

We fly instinctively

The cast all had slight tears in their eyes. Most of them were seniors, including you and Reggie, so this was your last show at a school you had grown to love.

When the summer's over

And the dark clouds hide the sun

Neither you nor I'm to blame

“Y/N and Reggie.” Your science teacher moved on and continued calling out other pairs to work together.

He moved to where you were sitting. It seemed as if his personality had changed. He was no longer the confident, happy boy you knew, but a shy, quiet one. “I- I can ask for a different partner. You probably don’t, don’t want to work with me.” His eyes were transfixed on the desk.

You don’t know what led you to do this, but you slipped a finger under his chin and tilted his face to look at you. “We have 5 minutes left in this period, and then we have rehearsal. You have that long to come up with a convincing argument as to why I should trust you, go it?”

He nodded softly, and you released his face. Now you had that long to figure out if you should trust him again.

As the bell rang you began to pack up your stuff when a note fell out of your bag. You picked it up and began to read it.

“Y/N. I kissed him. I’m not trying to cover for him, it’s the honest truth.” You looked up at your teacher.

“Y/L/N, get to rehearsal, or at least get out of my classroom.”

“Yeah, sorry!” You said, hurrying out of her classroom. You stepped into the hall, and you continued to read the note.

“I know it sounds like I’m covering for him. I’m not. I came into his dressing room, I kissed him. (I’ll spare you the details) But you two are an amazing couple, and he’s been a mess without you. There’s a hole in his heart that only you can fix.”

And just like the “I love you,” those last words rang in your head through rehearsal.

“There’s a hole in his heart that only you can fix.”

When all is said and done

In our lives

We have walked

Some strange and lonely treks

He crossed the stage and looked back at you. The strength it would take the entire cast to not laugh like children would be incredible.

Slightly worn

But dignified

And not too old for sex

We're still striving for the sky

No taste for humble pie

“Thank you.” He said, passing you a coke. “The pie will be out in a second.”

The booth in the back of the diner was a quiet one, but there were so many memories here. Your first date, your first kiss, Reggie asking you to be his girlfriend, and getting cast as Donna and Sam. You had found out sitting in this booth.

The waitress came over. “Two slices of apple pie, enjoy you two,” She said, with a little wink.

You took a fork and stabbed the pie like an enemy. “Talk.”

“I didn’t mean to. She came in, and she started it, I-” You shoved some pie in his mouth. His face was alarmed for a second, and then he smiled.

“Not about that, idiot, about the project. We have to present tomorrow.” You took a bite of your pie.

“I thought…” He was lost in thought for a moment and then he spoke. “I was thinking we could alternate slides? Or if you just want to do the chunks you wrote, that’s cool too!” He said, eating some more of his pie.

“That sounds good, we can alternate slides. Also, could you help me with my math homework? I’m- well, I’ve got a D. Can you help me? I brought it with me if you want to now, I have it with me, or we can do it later?” You rambled off.

“Scooch over,” He said, standing up. As you did, he sat down next to you. “Okay, pull it out, and show me what you’re struggling with. We’re not leaving till you have it down.”

He smiled at you, and you knew you were back to normal now. Or at least, a new normal.

Thanks for all your generous love

And thanks for all the fun

Neither you nor I'm to blame

As he sang that line, you both glanced into the audience where your former-best-friend-now-acquaintance sat. Your relationship had healed over the last month. He and you were clearer, and when/if anything happened, you both gave each other a chance to explain your side of the story. It was better now.

When all is said and done

It's so strange

When you're down

And lying on the floor

“Okay look up when you open your eyes,” He said, removing his hands from your face. You looked out at the beautiful rolling hills and then up. Up to the sky, and the shining stars. You gasped as you saw them, each one more beautiful than the last.

“Woah, Reggie this is so beautiful, I-” You turned around to face him. He had a picnic all laid out. There was a full apple pie and ice cream, along with a bunch of your favorite sweets and some popcorn and pretzels.

“Reggie, when did you have the time for this? It’s almost tech week,” You said as you sat down next to him. “Not that I’m ungrateful but seriously, when did you-” He cut you off as he stuck a bit of pie in your mouth.

“Did you?” He nodded. “You bought a full pie from the diner?” You smiled at him so big. And it was a wonderful night.

How you rise

Shake your head

Get up and ask for more

Clear-headed and open-eyed

With nothing left untried

Standing calmly at the crossroads

No desire to run

“I’m scared Alex.” It was Reggie’s voice you heard as you walked up to the garage. Over the past 2 and a half months, your relationship had changed, and now, it was the Saturday before tech week.

You froze outside the garage as you listened to Reggie.

“I- I, I messed it all up before, and I keep feeling like I’m gonna mess up again,” Reggie said. His voice was shaking if it was even possible for a voice to do that.

“Reg,” Alex said. “What happened wasn’t your fault. They came in and kissed you.”

“I should’ve stopped it. I should have stopped them.”

“Reggie, she forgave you. And trust me, Y/N wouldn’t be with you if she thought you had done it on purpose.”

You knocked on the garage door. “Reg, you in there? We’re gonna be late to rehearsal!”

“Yeah- yeah, I’m coming, I’ll meet you in the car babe!” He hollered back.

There's no hurry anymore

When all is said and done

Then he did something unexpected. Something unscripted. You just felt him pulling you in and dipping you down, and for a moment in one amazing kiss, the audience wasn’t there.

You pulled away, smiling and breathless as the audience cheered.

~

Send me an ask or fill out this form to be added to my tag list! Send me an ask to be removed from my tag list!

JATP Tag list: @screwunsaidemily @crybabyddl @n0wornever @crybabyddl @dream-a-little-bigger-x @crybabyddl @badwolf00593

Reggie Tag list: @willex-owns-my-heart

Everything: @funsizearsonist

[sonia7atm]

BRIDGERTON BOOK SERIES REVIEW.

So here it is, before I start I just wanted to say that I’m in no way shape or form an expert in english or literature for that matter. English is my third language and I’m studying science. Having said that, I have read all eight books in less than two weeks and I have a lot of opinions that I wanted to share so here they are. Obviously: SPOILERS AHEAD

The series in its entirety

The bridgerton series is probably the best written series that I have ever read. I loved the fact that it is made up of 8 books, but also the way the books are structured. In each of the books we focus on one of the siblings and their significant others, and even when the side characters are there, they are not really a main focus of the story. This means you can pick up a random Bridgerton book without having read the other ones and you would not feel like you are missing something. I really liked this because it meant that with each book you were getting to know a different sibling, thus you are never really bored and there wasn’t unnecessary drama happening with the already established couples, which is refreshing at the least.

However, it does have setbacks. In some of the books, you find that this side characters really change from the way they appear in the background or the other novels, and it can be difficult to digest at first. Another flaw that I found is with the brothers' books. When I was reading some of the books dedicated to the men of the family sometimes I found that we don’t spend enough time with them and when you finish the books you don’t have an understanding of who they are. Maybe I’m not making sense but I’ll elaborate in each book a little bit more.

But in the end, even these little flaws, I had a great time reading the books and finding out what was happening with the family.

My favourite book - AOFAG

I know some people have trouble ranking the Bridgerton books, especially, the favourite one, but I’m not one of them. I am obsessed with “An offer from a gentleman”, I love the story, I love Sophie, I love Benedith and I love Violet Bridgerton with all of my heart. This book is great from the start, even though b, the third book you know a happy ending is what the book is leading to, it still excites you and makes you wonder. AMAZING DARE I SAY.

Sophie is one of my favourite characters in all of the books. She has a strong morals system and you get really inspired by her. All of the things she goes through are horrible, but she still remains such a calm and kind individual that I cannot help but stan. HARD. She has very strong ideas and morals and she sticks with them even when they mean losing Benedict. I found this message really important and powerful because we usually see the opposite: people changing their views for their significant other, and I don’t think it's right. So, hereby I declare Sophie QUEEN of the Bridgerton clan.

Moving on to Benedict, I heard a little bit of criticism with his actions in this book and I see where they are coming from, but I don’t share them. I think Benedict is one of the brothers that suffers from a really deep female counterpart and as such his thoughts are not fully explored. In my opinion Benedict is tormented by the fact that he is the second Bridgerton and nothing more (similar to Colin and kinda Gregory really), and also by the fact that he lost the woman at the ball. On top of that, Sophie comes along and he starts falling for her and he feels guilty that he is falling for someone else, so he doesn’t fully commit to Sophie but also doesn’t really leave her. It’s a messed up situation and he doesn’t make the best decisions but I understand his actions and I support him. The only thing that really annoyed me about Benedict is that he doesn’t recognize Sophie at all. I wanted to hit him, hard, in the head, with a fucking piano.

Now the best of the best: Violet Bridgerton. She was the surprise character of this book in that prison scene. In the previous book you still see her and like her but she saves the day in this one, and I felt like I really knew her after that. She is not the typical ton mother, she really values their children’s happiness and takes everyone under her wing. She knows who she is and the importance her family has and she uses her powers for good. I gained so much respect for her. A surprise character and a great one.

To sum it up, Benedict and Sophie are perfect to each other, like this mellow entity. Two kind souls, always happy, always calm. Of course they live in the countryside, they could not live anywhere else.

Top tier books - WHWW, RMB, TVWL

WHEN HE WAS WICKED

This book wrecked me, I have to admit I was a mess, I could not deal. A tragic story with so much longing and guilt and despair, I love a drama, man this is great. I went in knowing the basics of it but I was not prepared.

The poor Francesca has the most devastating story in my opinion: she suffers from infertility, her husband dies, she doesn’t feel like she fits in her family, and when she falls in love Michael is sick, WHY?!. Throughout the book you get to see how strong she is, how strong-willed she is. We are not talking about this enough. She loves with all her heart and she suffers with all of it too. She and Michel have a really strong chemistry and it translates really well. I think she was really clever to wait and think before committing to Michael, and I see how she would need to see him in danger to really let herself fall completely. In the end, she knows what losing someone you love feels like and she doesn’t want to feel that again. I understand. Also, an important part of Francesca's journey is to realize that loving someone else doesn’t diminish her feelings for John, and I love how Michael acknowledges it. 

Michael is a really interesting character who falls in love at first sight with the wrong woman. He is fully aware of this fact and it is really good to see that he doesn’t doubt his love for her, but is instead aware of the impossibility of doing something about it. Even when he can do something about it, his respect for his cousin is always present. The guilt he feels for loving Francesca both when John was alive and after he died is so different but so well written. It’s eating him up and It is painful to read to be honest. However, I found that said guilt disappeared rather quickly after his conversation with Colin. I may be the only one but I was a little bit put off by it, and that’s why this is not my favourite book in the series.

THE VISCOUNT WHO LOVED ME 

The bees, I could talk about the bees for days after reading this one. This one has a lot of Bridgerton backstory, and it explains so much of the rest of the bunch even if not directly. So I would say not to skip it (but why would you skip any of them?).

Kate Sheffield is one of the best written characters in this series. She is complex, fierce but delicate, confident but self-conscious. I would kill for her, she deserves it. Her family dynamics are impeccable. You feel the love between these three women and the roles they have, and you get them really quickly: Edwina is the little sister, a little naive but good-hearted, Kate is the fierce older sister and Mary is the compassionate step-mother. I really enjoyed their dynamics. The introduction of Kate’s character is by presenting her goal for the season: defend her sister. When Anthony enters the pool of suitors, she obviously opposes and their back and forth shows she is very witty. But as the story goes on we get to see her insecurities and fears, in a way that it’s so in character but at the same time so different from the start. It’s amazing and I can see why she is such a fan favourite.

Anthony is a baby.We can see how Edmund’s death really scarred him, and those wounds are deep. He believes in his own demise so blindly that it is conditioning all of his decisions.He grows a lot until he is able to share them with Kate and they bond so beautifully over it. Getting to see that, was something that I loved and enjoyed so much. It makes you really connect with both of the characters and it explains so much of his behaviour, that even if he frustrates you, you can’t be mad because you understand where he comes from.

Newton is the guest star in this one and I would like to take our time to appreciate the captain of the Kanthony ship. This little dog is such a plot device, put there to cause havoc and bring Kate and Anthony together, it is so funny. He smelled Anthony and decided he wanted a new dad. Put a plan in march, probably alerted his friend, THE bee.

ROMANCING MR BRIDGERTON

The message of this book is amazing. The journey they both go through to re-know each other is beautiful. Penelope and Colin have known each other for years, and they both have a version of the other in their minds but as the story progresses they unveil hidden personality traits about each others and I love how it is acknowledge and developed into a clear message of “people are flawed and not the perfect individual you wish them to be, and that’s ok”. It is really necessary and it made me reflect on my own relationships and how I could improve them. Colin and Penelope have to be my favourite couple of the series, but, because they were because of the show and not the books, when I finished this book I was left feeling like I wanted more, and that is why it is not my favourite one.

This is the book where readers find out Penelope is Lady Whiseldown and it is a big plot line. However, this revelation is maybe halfway through the book and until then, Penelope's inner monologue doesn’t reveal anything. I would have loved to really focus on it and know from the start how she really did it but at the same time, we get to see so much of Pen’s growth anyways. She is shy and kind but when she is with someone she trusts (in this case Colin and Lady Danbury), she is full of wit and boldness. I see myself so much in these characteristics that I cannot help but make her my favourite character in the series (totally biased but it is what it is). She starts with a sense of discontent about her, she knows her fate and accepts it but, she doesn’t necessarily like it. She is trying to change the way people see her and Lady Danbury helps a lot with it. She and Colin spend a lot of the book kind of on opposite sides in part because of their own demons, she wants to prove herself and at the same time is faced with the realization that the Colin she made up in her mind is not the real one. It really makes you wonder if it’s a happy ending at the end of it, because they both have such strong points but they are so diverse. At the end, after they talk about it, their relationship is full of devotion and you feel how they are making each other focused and better. I would die for them.

Colin is such a tumultuous character and it is a stark contrast on how we get to see him in the previous and following books. He is used to putting the charm on and fooling everybody but, of course, in this book we explore his inner workings and now we know the truth. He is just a lost puppy, looking for something to do with his life, and he is so focused on this search and runnin away for his family that he doesn’t see that there is already something that he is good about: writing. His relationship with Pen is obviously key in all of this searching because it pushes his limits and makes him think. His realization, of both his vocation and his love are slow and steady. He sometimes jumps to conclusions and rushes things *ahem*the proposal*cough* but not love, and once he commits he does it fully. The “stay, stay, stay” scene is a monumental hallmark in the book. We see Colin really deciding and choosing Penelope and Lady Whistle down with all that it entails. And later on, he opens out about his jealousy over her work, but he does it when he is ready, and Pen allows him to come to her when he needs without judgement. They are so perfect it hurts. 

The lack of Eloise is an insult to my soul but we get Lady Danbury as the guest star. She is on Penelope's corner helping her navigate the ton and her relationship with Colin, as a mother figure would. I believe she at least has a big suspicion that she is LW, but I might be wrong.

All-nighter books - OTWTTW, IIHK. ON THE WAY TO THE WEDDING

Gregory’s book is full of twists and turns that you just cannot put it down. Not the fact that the main female character is Lucy and not Hermoine, like Gregory thinks half of the book, just because you don’t. It is pretty clear that Lucy is our heroine so the fact that Gregory falls for her is not a twist itself because we (and Kate) already know. But in my opinion, the fact that it starts with Gregory interrupting the wedding and then it goes back and explains the backstory to you, so it is constantly leading up to it. 

Lucy is not the most interesting of the female leads but it is part of her charm. She is a normal girl, her life is already arranged, so she doesn’t feel the pressure the rest of them do, she is just enjoying herself. She doesn’t believe in love, and it is so funny how in denial she is about it, until it all explodes. 

Gregory’s life was influenced by her brothers before him and his big family but he feels so alone because of the age difference. He is trying to find his place in life and, because he saw all of his siblings fall in love he wants the same thing so badly, that he confuses desire with love. He is so precious, and must be protected at all costs.

The last few chapters are action packed, there’s an urgency in everyone's actions: Lucy, trying to save her family and Gregory, trying to save Lucy. I couldn’t figure out what was going to happen and that hooked me. The fact that the wedding actually takes place is the most shocking plot of all of the books.  

To conclude, Gregory owns my heart and I trust him with it.

IT’S IN HIS KISS

This story is another “all-nighter”, because it revolves around a mystery and the search for Gareth’s grandmother lost jewels. This quest brings Hyacinth and Gareth together, with a lot of Lady Danbury’s help. It’s really interesting to read about the felonies they commit, all of them instigated by Hyacinth, who, in my opinion, is chaos personified. 

Hyacinth is the most forward-thinking woman of this series. She is outspoken, confident, loud and apologetic. All of these traits really set her apart, because she doesn’t play by the rules of society, she does what she pleases, and she should. She is the typical little sister, a little spoiled but with a good heart. Her conversations with Violet are really touching. 

Gareth on the other side, is not in a good place with his family, and it is endearing to see how shocked he is by the Bridgerton’s closeness. He has a severe lack of self love, and sees himself as an imposter, and not worthy of Hyacinth. But when he falls, OMG, HE FALLS. His attitude towards Hyacinth’s personality is amazing because he loves her exactly as she is, and knows he will be following her orders for the rest of his life. Adorable. (He is the “That’s my wife” meme).

Lady Danbury is again the guest star and it only helps to cement her as the cool grandma that we all aspire to be. An honorable mention is Anthony getting super-duper happy that all of his sisters are married and therefore he is free (my poor guy).

However, the main issue I have with this book is that the decision of getting married is really attached to Gareth’s need to vex his father, who is a horrible person, and it makes me mad. 

Not my favourite books - TSPWL, TDAI

TO SIR PHILIP WITH LOVE

In this book Eloise decides running off to meet a possible husband is a great idea. Her brain, I can’t. Obviously the Bridgerton brothers follow her and force the two to marry anyways, although they were already falling in love when they found her. Phillip, Eloise's love interest is a loner and lives outside of the ton and I think that these traits really work with her because they are polar opposites but at the same time they fit so well. The relationship Eloise has with Amanda and Oliver is so cute, because you can see that these kids just need some attention and help navigating the world without her mother and Eloise is there for them.

However, even though I loved their storyline and I wanted to rank this higher I couldn’t. The other Bridgertons are a big part of this book and when I was thinking back on it the parts that I remember fondly the most are when Anthony, Benedict, Colin and Gregory arrive to kill talk to Philip, and then when Charles is ill and we get to see Benedict and Sophie as parents. So, I like this book because of side characters and not the main ones, even though I know there is nothing wrong with them. However, I do think the book is ok and I would recommend it nevertheless.

THE DUQUE AND I

I don’t have much to say about this book. The r*pe is completely unnecessary in my opinion. Daphne and Simon have terrible communication skills, but so do Kate and Anthony, for example, but still, the repercussions are not that severe. It is so much worse in the books and it has no consequences whatsoever. Up until that point, the enemies to secret dating to falling in love is such a classic thorpe that I usually like, but I cannot separate the two of them. In fact, I would advise to skip this one.

Hapily Ever After

Thank you to the heavens for this book. It is just a little exploration of all of the sibling’s future and an extra story for Violete.

Daphne’s story revolves around her last pregnancy. A surprise one when she is quite old. I found it really sweet and it looks like she and Simon are really happy with their life so good for them. Also, Colin and Penelope visit with all of their children so I’m obligated to like it.

The TVWLM continuation is a get together in Aubrey Hall for a Pall Mall rematch. I had so much fun reading it and getting to see all of the Bridgertons interact in a “relaxed” manner.

Sophie and Benedict’s story focuses on Posy and her search for a husband. She is lovely and I do want her happiness but getting to see Sophie and Benedict interact while actually together was a treat. I feel very blessed to see them be the balls of sunshine they both are.

Then we get to see how Eloise found out Lady Whisheldow’s identity. It was fun, and we get to see Pen and Eloise being friends, which we don’t get enough of in their respectives books. Colin and Penelope leaving the wedding early, was a gem. They are a couple of horny idiots and I love to see it. After that, we focus on Eloise again and we get to see a little bit more about Amanda and Oliver.

One of the main things about Francesca in her book is the fact that she wants a baby, and it is never resolved. In this one, we get to see how Francesca and Michael become parents and it's another heartbreaking one. We get to see how worried Violet is for her and also how Michael and Francesca talk and understand each other. They are one of the best relationships on this series, I said what I said.

In IIHK the diamonds are never found, but we find them here. It is great to know they were not missing and also a relief to know that Gareth was able to rescue the family even without them. The fact that Isabella actually finds them and proceeds to say nothing is hilarious. But when Hyacinth finds them the happiness she feels is so wholesome.

Then we get to see Gregory and Lucy’s twins be born (their 8th and 9th children). It is not an easy task and for a moment I was afraid for Lucy but it all works out in the end. It was filled with great moments but the one that I like the most is when Gregory says that Katherine gave him purpose in life, because he was meant to be a dad. I cried ngl.

And lastly, we meet Edmund. He is very present throughout the book but I was not expecting to grow so attached to him with this little story. It is divided in different stages of Violet’s life and obviously we get to see her romance with Edmund. I loved the little details, his behaviour reminded me of Gregory but he eats a lot like Colin so it is great to see where they get their traits from. The later parts, after he dies, show you how much importance Violet puts on remembering him and preserving his memory. They were truly soulmates, and it is such a shame that their time together was cut short.

[themollyjay]

On Representation In Writing

When I was fourteen years old, a book saved my life. That may sound dramatic, but I’ll be honest, it was a dramatic story. You see, I’ve suffered from depression since I was six years old, and I never felt comfortable in my own skin. Like a lot of transgender kids, I loved things that didn’t match up to the gender I was assigned at birth. I liked He-Man, but I loved She-Ra. I liked Superman, but I loved Supergirl. When it came to GI Joe, I had a ton of figures, but I only ever really played with Scarlet, Lady Jay and Covergirl. I had a BMX Dirt Bike with faux snakeskin pads on it that looked really cool, but I preferred to rid my neighbors pink and purple bike. I thought look was cool, but my Leia action figures always stole his lightsaber.

I hid those things because I knew they were ‘wrong’. I got dragged to church three times a week, and it was a Southern Speaking In Tongues Pentecostal Church. The kind that policed gender presentation and sexuality with militant fervor. So, I grew up not really understanding what it meant to be gay, or transgender (transexual was the term at the time), or lesbian, or queer. I only knew they were bad and meant you were going to hell. My only real exposure to those concepts outside of the fire and brimstone sermons were as the but of jokes on TV, or as a point of horror in movies like ‘Dressed To Kill’ (I’d say look it up, but honestly, don’t, because it’s horrible).

I was seven or eight years old when the AIDS crisis really hit big, and I got an education on what it meant to be gay or lesbian, and I started to understand that maybe, possibly, those weren’t horrible things to be. I never said that, because hell was still a big and scary thing, but I kind of wondered if I might be gay. Being assigned male at birth, and loving all sorts of ‘girl stuff’, that’s where my mind went, because I didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I just understood that I was miserable and I felt trapped in my own skin.

When I was fourteen, I went to Dallas for the summer to dog sit for my aunt for a couple of weeks. Not really a big deal, but at the time, I was a voracious reader, and I burned through the stack of books I had brought with me in about three days. My aunt had mentioned to me that there was a small bookstore a few blocks away, so one day in the middle of July, in Dallas Texas, in hundred plus degree heat, I walked I think six or seven blocks to get to the bookstore.

It was a terrible bookstore. At least, to my mind. I stayed there for a couple of hours, wandering around, waiting for the sun to go down a bit and for it to cool off before I went home, but the store didn’t even have a science fiction section. Just romance, mystery, and a bunch of self-help crap, and a whole ton of stuff about how aliens were among us and Elvis was still alive and other crap.

Somewhere around my sixth circuit of the store, when I was seriously starting to eye the bodice rippers out of sheer desperation, I found something that didn’t belong there. Tucked in between the bodice rippers and the murder mysteries was a name that was familiar, and a title that wasn’t. I found a copy of a book by Robert A. Heinlein called I Will Fear No Evil.

For those of you who have never heard of the book, it’s about a Billionaire named Johann Sebastian Bach Smith whose brain is healthy, but whose body is falling apart. He pays for an experimental procedure, a brain transplant, and wakes up in the body of a women, Eunice Branca, who is young, beautiful, and happens to have been Johann’s secretary.

I Will Fear No Evil is widely regarded as one of Heinlein’s worst works. People call it sexist, and fetishistic and all sorts of other things. I don’t care. It was the first time in my life that I saw a sex change presented as something other than the butt of a joke. It was the first time in my life where I saw a story about someone who started out as male and ended up as female and was happy for the change, who lived a happier life after the change, who loved and was loved in return after the charge.

I’m not sure how many times I read that novel in the week and a half or so I had left in Texas, but at least four times. I got a little obsessed with the idea, and by the time I went home, I understood myself in a way I never had before. I wanted to be a woman. I wanted it more than anything else in the world.

It didn’t change my life overnight. It didn’t make me not depressed. It didn’t make everything okay, suddenly. But it did help me understand myself. It did show me that people like me didn’t have to live miserable, unloved lives. It did show me that being the way I am wasn’t a one-way ticket to hell. It made things better, seeing myself reflected in a story like that.

Knowing myself, understanding myself, it helped stop a downward spiral that would have ended in a very bad place. It gave me something to hang on to for a long time. It took a long time after I found that novel for me to come out and transition, but finding that book, a twenty-year-old science fiction novel in a bookstore that didn’t even have a science fiction section, still feels like the closest thing I’ve ever seen to divine intervention. It was the light that started me on my journey to becoming myself.

That’s something I think about a lot I sit down and start writing. If that book hadn’t shown me a reflection of myself, I would have spiraled down into self-destruction. That book saved my life. Representation saved my life. And that’s something I want to give back in my own stories.

[gone-series-orchid]

10 and 11?

10. if you could take away one character’s powers and give it to another, who would that character be and what power would you give them?

i would give cigar's post-torture power to astrid. i just think it'd be interesting if she could see people's "roles" in the game of the fayz in the heavily symbolic way he does. she could have a direct hand in manipulating events so people's destinies line up with what her brother wants. plus, she'd maintain a direct connection to little pete, which would affect her heavily. maybe she could be a foil to brittney, then, only instead of being a servant of a dark and malevolent alien virus, she'd be her little brother's conduit to the fayz. if she has to be deeply traumatized to access that power, like poor cigar, then that would maybe provide an interesting contrast to her genius intelligence; she'd have to try to achieve her goals and do what she knows is right despite her own mind, her greatest weapon, betraying her.

11. what kind of books, movies, and tv shows do you think the characters would like?

sam: i think the last books he read was like in 4th grade, like hatchet or dear mr. henshaw...i don't think he's a big reader at all, he's too busy surfing! as for movies and tv, i think he just kind of watches whatever? he and quinn probably watch shows like wipeout and survivor together. i can picture sam and connie watching romantic comedies like when harry met sally... and you've got mail together as a mother-son bonding activity pre-fayz.

astrid: @thegoneseriesanalysis had the excellent idea of her secretly enjoying the children's animated movies she puts on for little pete due to their black-and-white morality 🥺 also she probably likes courtroom dramas...and i'm stuck on her really liking the sopranos. she'd totally identify with dr. melfi. and, of course, her canon enjoyment of watching brain surgery on tv, lol. and documentaries!!! as for books, i think she reads tons of nonfiction--lots of books on science and biology. i think she kind of reads anything she can get her hands on, but i like to think she also likes dipping into classic american/english literature like the scarlet letter and moby-dick. real morally weighty, hefty stuff. i can picture her really liking mark twain, for some reason

quinn: like sam, i don't think he reads, really. he might pick up a superhero comic occasionally. i think he mostly likes watching tv and movies. game shows and high-energy, low-substance stuff. he probably prefers comedies. i can picture him liking adam sandler. but i also think he has a penchant for slightly weirder stuff; maybe '70s sci-fi like logan's run or westworld.

edilio: i think he likes reading casual stuff, adventure novels, maybe. paperbacks you'd get at the airport. i think he also might like short story anthologies. as for movies, indie movies, definitely. i think he likes more abstract, thoughtful stuff with slightly obscure symbolism, stuff he can really think about and ponder. i also think he also secretly likes watching spanish daytime soaps with his mom.

diana: '90s/'2000s "chick flicks," definitely, but with a semi-ironic, cool sense of detachment--stuff like mean girls, 10 things i hate about you, legally blonde. stuff she might scoff at, but also genuinely enjoys. i don't think she reads much, aside from magazines. reality tv, stuff that's pure escapist fluff whose characters she can mock and deride for being superficial/stupid. i also think she likes teen dramas like degrassi and dawson's creek.

caine: i hate to admit it, but i think caine would read the catcher in the rye (a genuinely good book that's often misinterpreted, don't @ me) and over-identify with holden caulfield (🤢). he probably reads a lot of high-class literature but doesn't digest a whole lot of it, he just reads it because it makes him look classy/smart. he likes movies like the wolf of wall street and american psycho, probably.

drake: slasher films, the bloodier and more misogynistic the better. fight club appeals to him for all the wrong reasons. probably reads a lot of stephen king, especially his more cynical stuff under his richard bachman pen name (like rage and thinner).

howard (also orc, kinda): i like to think howard's kind of a secret movie buff; he'll watch action movies and criticize them readily, but still enjoys them. i think he likes fight club, but understands it's meant to be satirical (still enjoys the more superficially pleasing violence of it, though). stuff like the matrix and district 9. probably reads, but it's mostly comics--the lighter stuff, but also heavier stuff like watchmen. and i have this fixed idea that he likes shounen anime, with a special attachment to neon genesis evangelion (he relates to shinji, though i don't think he'd ever admit it).

of course, he can also enjoy a light low-brow comedy; i think him and orc absolutely love beavis and butt-head and watch it all the time. also, both of them enjoy the sopranos--howard for similar reasons as astrid, understanding the deeper themes but also liking the violence, and orc just liking people getting beaten up (and also subconsciously relating to tony's depression).

[dino-nugget7]

A Manifesto Against The School System

As of writing this I am a second year Public High School Teacher. I won’t be able to live with myself if I spend another year at it. Literally, I feel like a bit of a monster for deciding to finish out this school year rather than quitting right now. But we do what we must to survive, my students won’t be less oppressed because I left, and if nothing else, it gives me an opportunity to strategize about what I can do to aid in revolutionizing school because authentic alternatives to public school exist but none I have found have been intersectional enough to replace public education without excluding the kids who would most benefit from escaping the main school system here in America.

Some of the reasons I did not understand how oppressive school actually is, are that my interests and hobbies happened to align very neatly with the “core” classes, and that even though I grew up very poor and moved around a lot as a kid, we eventually settled and I went to a well funded high school that had just about any elective and/or after school club that I might be interested in trying and then some. During that time, I came to see school as a place where I could explore my passions and escape my home situation. So I figured I would love to pay it forward and go be a teacher.

I recognized at least, the privileged position I came from and decided I wanted to go learn how to teach in settings as different from my high school as possible. Which is why I went and got special permission for most of my classroom placements throughout the teaching program to be at alternative schools. In Colorado at least, alternative schools are small public schools which primarily serve students identified as “at risk”, which is shorthand for “Statistically more likely to drop out than the general population for one reason or another.”

I did not know when I asked to be placed in one, but learned within days of being there that most people that even know alternative schools exist, think of them as the places where “the bad kids” go. I realized very quickly that they are actually places filled with kids who have experienced a lot of trauma in and out of school and don’t respond to that trauma the way adults want them to respond. I came to adore kids at alternative schools because they remind me of my younger siblings.

Like my oldest brother, many of them find school mind numbingly easy and boring and have much more pressing matters to devote their mental energy to.

Like my middle brother, many of them have spent so much time around teachers who do not understand neurodivergence that have been convinced of the lie that they are weird, dumb and/or lazy and because of that, trying to participate in school is like hitting their head on a brick wall.

Like all of my brothers and my sisters, they have a ton of skills that they are brilliant at, but that are not prioritized by the school system, so they never pursue them, such as construction, music, makeup and programming.

Many, if not most of them come from living situations full of abuse and neglect and/or poverty so they don’t have the mental or emotional space to worry about much beyond survival, and not only haven’t learned how to make and achieve long term goals, but have never had the luxury of a stable enough environment for that kind of planning to be worthwhile.

All that being said, something that you only realize if you actually work in a few public alternative schools, as I have done through college and my current job, is that the name is actually an oxymoron.

What started me down the path of considering and researching all the ways school is an oppressive system, was a conversation I had with a student in my first year teaching. He was learning about chemical reactions and safety and asked me the infamous question, “Why do I have to learn about this?” to which I said “Because everything is chemicals and understanding how they can interact with one another and ways they can harm you can keep you safe when you do things like clean or cook.” To which he replied, “Well no offense but I have no idea how this shit relates to cooking and please don’t tell me because its not like I’m actually going to remember it when I am cooking, and I already know how to clean safely because of work. But you’re still going to make me learn this boring shit anyways so seriously, why do we have to learn about this?”

I paused to consider what he was asking. I had interpreted, as the system trained me to, that the question he was asking was, “what value does this knowledge hold?” But what he actually meant was “Why are you making me waste my time learning about this thing that I never asked to learn about?” So I replied, as a sort of test of my new understanding, “It’s part of the physical science curriculum the Education Department thinks is important for high schoolers to learn.” He was taken aback, “Wait, you don’t decide what stuff we learn about? What’s even the point of teachers then? Why don’t they just give us a list of all their stupid stuff they think we should know so we can get on with our lives?” He had a point and I have spent a lot of time reflecting on and growing from that conversation.

Sure, there are some key differences that make alternative schools slightly more tolerable than your standard 800-4,000 kid high school. Class sizes are smaller so students get more individualized help. We get funding to help students access things such as food, clothes, hygiene products, and healthcare and know students well enough that we actually know which kids are lacking these resources. We have slightly more leeway than traditional schools to create innovative lessons. We don’t give out homework.

But public alternative schools are still oppressive in most of the ways that the big schools are. I’m sure none of this will be a surprise to most readers, but I want you to really consider how restricted kids in public school are, how restricted you probably were in school as you read through this.

School starts early in the morning and students have to constantly shift mental gears throughout the day due to a tight schedule of constantly rotating classes and a very short lunch break. Throughout the day, bells tell students when they can’t or must move around or eat. Students have to ask when they need to go to the bathroom or get water and teachers cannot go at all outside of their plan period because students are not trusted to be in the classroom without an adult even for a few minutes. They have no control over who they share space with and very little control over their ability to leave that space if it conflicts with their needs. There is a strict dress code which disproportionately targets marginalized students. Students are expected to be sociable but not given nearly enough opportunities to actually socialize. The school keeps records of everything the student has ever gotten in trouble for, every class the student has taken, every grade they have received, their “class rank,” and every intervention program the student is part of. And like every public school, alternative schools must follow state curriculum standards and by extension, grading, data collection, and required testing. On the surface it might not seem like it, but that last point is actually the most insidious one and its the one that has followed students into remote learning during the pandemic.

According to the people who decide how schools work, there are four factors of student choice: These factors are Time, Place, Pace, and Path. For example, if I am running a unit on plate tectonics, rather than giving students a worksheet and telling them to work on it as we go through a slideshow and turn it in at the end of class, I could put them in groups, give them an online choice board of three different but roughly equivalent projects relating to plate tectonics to choose from, each with different rubrics for completion and tell them they can turn it in at any time in the next two weeks. And then instead of devoting class time to direct instruction, I would give them a variety of resources to peruse and teach them how to research more and let them choose what aspects of plate tectonics to focus on and how to present their information. Now, this is certainly a few steps in the right direction away from making kids sit in rows and listen to the teacher drone on about plate tectonics while they take notes. But it misses the most important factors of choice in my eyes, the things that I would be fired for if I actually gave them the choice about: How students spend their time and what they are allowed to prioritze.

None of this is to say that expecting kids to learn is inherently fucked up or that teaching inherently makes one an oppressive person. On the contrary, authentic teaching and learning are vital to our ability to solve our problems and grow as people. If all students were given the opportunities to spend their childhoods learning things that they were actually interested in, to explore the full breadth of knowledge that humans have compiled at their leisure without timelines or milestones except the ones they set for themselves, to socialize with people of all ages, to authentically participate in society both as learners and as educators, as leaders and as team members, the world wouldn’t be perfect, but it would be a lot less soul crushing.

Now, I mentioned at the beginning of this piece that authentic alternatives do exist.  To get you started on researching what’s out there, I recommend starting with Sudbury schools and the unschooling movement.

But unless these models somehow miraculously become a large and accepted enough presence to get government funding, or money ceases its hold on us all, the public school system will be the only one that most students, especially impoverished students, transient students, english language learners, and disabled students (especially those with profound disabilities) will have access to. Which is a damn shame and a problem I am committed to trying to figure out how to contribute to solving because those are the students whose lives would be most radically transformed for the better if they got the opportunities that these models provide.

[lavenderbexlatte]

fic writer tag~

tagged by the wonderful @sleepylixie and @aliceu

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

a lot of anime ones 🤣 and a ton of classic ones (i was a superwholock, guys-). miraculous ladybug was my last big main fandom before kpop, though!

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

kpop :D stray kids, nct, itzy, mamamoo, bts, got7...so many. pretty much any kpop group or idol that i’m into, i’ll write for! and my requests are always open 👀

3. how long have you been writing?

i started posting fanfic in 2010, but i’ve been writing my whole life. the first full story i remember, i was...8? so 16, 17 years. 

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

ao3 and tumblr! but i was an og fanfic/net user, and i’ve used livejournal, twitter, pretty much everything...

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

slice of life! i just want to tell simple stories, things that we all feel. people who do their best. events that we can all understand. 

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

pantser, 100%. i have never fully planned a story in my life.

7. one-shot or multi-chapter?

oneshot. i love a multichap but i prefer not being restrained by the obligation to keep going 😅 i’m really inconsistent-

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

there’s no perfect amount - however many words get the story across is the right amount. i usually write 7-10k per chapter, but that’s only recently! i used to write way less, i’ve been working on getting more words in per release. 

9. what is your longest published story? 

i have an NCT/SM Entertainment WIP called The Lotus Effect on my ao3 that’s about 75k? on tumblr, my longest fic is holding you like this (14k) and the more & more series as a whole is nearly 60k, so far 🤔

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

holding you like this! i know that i’m best known for more & more, but this fic is my best skz work so far. maybe my best work of all. 

11. favorite request you’ve written and why?

ball & chain! that fic was just an idea tossed around on the tl ages ago, but it has some of my fave nsfw themes in it~

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

there are some, i think. found family, difficult relationships with parents, college/uni settings, miscommunication as a plot device, no straight characters  ever. i love characters who are just good people who make mistakes. i like happy endings. 

13. current number of wips?

um...four? five? i don’t actually usually have a lot of ideas going at once! 

14. three things you have noticed about your writing?

my use of commas and fragments is RIDICULOUS. i repeat sentiments a lot, for emphasis, and i have no idea if it’s annoying to read. and i write banter/comedic dialogue better than anyone i know 😌

15. a quote you like from a published story?

i’m cheating here’s two: 

He smiles at you like nothing’s changed. Has anything changed? (from without a word)

and

“You’re changing the subject,” Hyuck chastises, “But to answer your question, Renjun slide-tackled me into a vending machine in the social science building, so he’s on time-out. And Lia got a girlfriend.” 

“Tragic.”  (from sweet tooth)

16. a quote from an unpublished story?

“Look, I know you fucking hate him or whatever, but he’s important to me. I though you understood that,” Changbin says, impatient and sharp. “He’s been really fucking messed up since graduation, and I’m worried.” 

hmmm wonder what this is from 👀👀👀👀

17. space for you to say something to your readers~~

my lil coffee beans 🥺 no clue why you’re all here but i fucking love you, please enjoy my bullshit forever 

tagging: christ on high, you guys know i suck at this...if you write, please give it a go! and tag me so i can see 👀

[warren-lauren]

‘I do’ under the stars - Present Day!Brian May x Danish!reader

This was actually happening. You were actually going to marry the man you loved. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, still finding it hard to believe you were wearing your wedding dress.

"Y/N?" You heard Roger's voice after a short knock on the bedroom door.

"Go away, Roger," Sarina sighed as she got up from the chair she was sat in and opened the door a peak. "We're not read-"

"I know that, love, I just-" Roger let out a heavy sigh, "It's Brian,"

Your eyes widened as you heart tightened hearing those words. You spun around and marched barefoot over to the door, pulling it open. "What's wrong, Roger? Is he okay? Is it his-"

Roger shook his head, smiling as he looked you over. Beautiful. "No, love, he's okay... He just, he wanted to have a word."

You let out a relieved sigh, "I'll kill him," You smiled softly, "Where is he?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "That's the thing, I haven't a clue. He just said, tell Y/N/N I need to have a quick word, and then he buggered off." Roger huffed as he folded his arms across his chest, clearly stressing out.

You shook your head smiling, "Don't worry, Rog, I know where he is." You pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Y/N, your shoes!" Sarina turned around to grab them for you but you had already left.

You weren't going far. You climbed the flight of stairs and crossed the landing until you came to a large wooden door and opened it. You began grinning to yourself as you looked up into the darkness at the top of another set of stairs.

"Brian? You know we're not meant to see each other." You smiled, slowly walking up.

You heard Brian chuckle as he approached the top of the staircase. "I'm a bit old to believe all that nonsense, don't you think." He held his hand out for you. "You look beautiful, my love." He pulled you closer to him, pressing his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

"What's wrong, Brian? Are you having second thoughts?"

He shook his head, and began guiding you over to the large telescope that was set up. "Of course not, love. I just wanted to show you something before we said 'I do'." He grinned.

You raised your eyebrow, "Brian, what could you possibly have to show me?"

Brian nodded to the telescope. "Just look,"

You let out a small scoff but looked anyway. "How many times have you had me look through this thing? I think I've seen--Oh my God!" You pulled back and looked up at Brian. "Is that a,"

"Comet?" You nodded, "It is. I remembered you saying, you'd never seen one so," He smiled as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Wait," You turned around in Brian's arms, "Bri, is this why you insisted we get married at this time?" You grinned up at him.

Roger had joked about Brian being a science geek when he suggested that the two of you got married under the stairs. Having your special day in the comfort of your home, away from prying eyes as you committed your love to one another.  You thought it was a rather romantic idea.

Brian's cheeks began to blush as he nodded, "Hmm, yes. I heard along the grape vine that, you'd be able to see the comet tonight so-"

You pressed your lips against his in a loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck as Brian held you close to his body, kissing you back with just as much love.

"Excuse me!" Roger called out from the top of the stairs, glaring at the two of you.

You looked over Brian's shoulder with bashful smile, trying to laugh as his red cheeks hid behind his beard. "Sorry, Rog," You smiled at him.

He held his hands up, "Whatever. It's not like you've got a ton of guests waiting or anything. I swear, if you ask me to be your best man again, I'm saying no, having me running around. I'm too old for this shit." Roger huffed as he turned around and made his way back down.

You hid your face in Brian's chest as the pair of you shared a laugh as Roger continued to moan as he walked away.

"We should probably get to our wedding." Brian whispered.

You nodded, lifting your head so you could look at Brian. "I can't wait to be, Mrs May." You smiled loving up at him.

Brian grinned, "C'mon, before Roger has a stroke or something." He chuckled taking your hand in his.

----------

-Flash back-5 years ago-

You let out a heavy sigh as you tapped your pen against the table. The black printed letters on the page were starting to jumble together, but you had to study. Why you thought getting a summer job as a personal assistant for a band was a good idea, you'll never know. But here you are at midnight, in the hotel restaurant trying to figure out how to stop cats from pooing in a plant pot.

"Ugh!" You groaned and dropped your head onto the table in front of you. You were glad there wasn't many people down in the restaurant at this time.

"I thought I'd find you down here," Brian spoke softly as he walked towards you putting a smile on your face. "What have we said about staying up past midnight?" He teased, sitting down opposite you.

You smiled, "Just because you're an OAP."

Brian chuckled, pulling your text book across to him. "Cheeky." He smiled before closing it. "Why are you our personal assistant if this, is what you want to do?" He said as he tapped your text book on Clinical Animal Behaviour.

"Needed a job," You shrugged with a cheeky grin, "When I go back to school, it's going to be all work, and this seemed like a once in a life time opportunity." You smiled at him.

Brian hummed, "Still makes no sense. It's not exactly the most idle place to study, on the road, fetching and carrying, and looking after us old codgers." You laughed at him, shaking your head as you began to put your things away. "Wouldn't you rather, go home to Denmark and see your parents?"

You let out a soft sigh, "As much as I miss them, Bri, I spent all my life with them. I want to take this time to, be me." You shrugged. "Does that sound selfish?"

Brian shook his head, reaching over to pat your hand. "Not at all, love. Some times you've got to think of yourself before others." He smiled, "Right, I think it's bed time, young lady."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Whatever you say, old man."

----------

-Present Day-

"I do," You smiled teary eyed up at Brian as the two of you held hands as you stared lovingly at one another, your friends and family watching as you shared your vows.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." The vicar announced you man and wife, and in front of your loved ones, you shared your first kiss as husband and wife.

As Brian held you in his arms and kissed you with such passion and love, the memories the two of you had shared over the last five years span through your mind.

Even though there was an obvious age gap between the pair of you, I mean you were a lot closer to 30 than Brian was, it didn't seem to matter so much. There was times where it was apparent, like when Brian had found himself having some health issues. The heart attack really knocked you for ten, but in true Brian fashion he bounced back after some time to recover, more loving and caring than ever.

He was always willing to learn something new, and so the two of you had visited your parents in Denmark and you'd tried to teach him as much as you possibly could about your home.

At first your parents were more than shocked when you told them who you were dating. You had the whole 'he's too old', 'he's taking advantage of you', ‘you can't see a future with him', blah, blah, blah. But once they actually met him, after a lot of arm twisting that is, they saw the man you did. Not just a famous rock star who they thought was just having his way with you because you were a pretty young thing, but a man that saw you as a smart and bright woman who was capable of great things.

Of course your romance wasn't always so easy, what with the media sticking their nose in, and the fans having their own opinion. It was because of this that you and Brian took so long to admit how you felt about one another. There was a lot of longing looks, and lingering touches on both parts. It took Adam and his drunken big mouth to drop you in it for Brian to work up the courage to ask you out.

-Flash back-4 & half years ago-

As much as he hated being in a loud night club, barely understanding what was being played over the speakers, Brian happily sat in a big comfy chair along with Roger and Adam as you and Sarina danced with one another. Although he was doing it out of habit, he was watching you, a fond smile on his face as he watched you laugh and have the time of your life.

Roger rolled his eyes with a scoff, "He's like a bloody teenager." He chuckled pointing over to where Brian was, paying him nor Adam any attention. "Oy!" Roger threw a balled up napkin towards Brian, laughing when Brian jumped.

"Piss off!" Brian glared at him.

Roger rolled his eyes again, "Sorry, mate, have I distracted you from your perving?" He teased.

Brian blushed once again telling him to piss off. "I'm not perving."

Adam nodded laughing, "Don't worry, Bri, Y/N's just as bad."

Brian's brow creased and he turned in his seat so he was facing the younger man. "What on Earth are you talking about?"

"Are you serious, right now?" He huffed, "You really must be blind if you don't see the lady boner she gets whenever she's near you."

Brian shook his head as he looked to Roger. "Lady boner?" He asked looking confused.

Roger burst out laughing, almost dropping his drink on himself. "Oh, fuck." He quickly put his drink down still laughing. "Oh, God... He means, she's got the hots for you, Bri."

Brian's eyes widened. "Y/N?"

"Oh, yeah," Adam nodded, "She's even had a couple of saucy dreams about you, Bri."

Roger's head snapped to him."Has she?"

Adam "Oh, Dr. May, fuck me with your-" Adam stopped his terrible impression of you as you came to a stop in front of him, unimpressed to hear him exaggerate what you had told him. "Oh, hey, girl-"

"Don't." You glared at him, snatching your purse off the table. "I'm off." You huffed and turned on your heels.

Brian was quick to get up, calling Roger and Adam tossers before he followed after you. He caught you just before you left the club, holding your hand softly as he pleaded for you not to walk away from him. You told him you just wanted to leave for your hotel, and Brian was more than willing to escort you, to make sure you were safe.

'I wouldn't be much of a gentlemen if I let you go on your own, would I?'

----------

-Present Day-

"Look," Brian pointed up to the sky. The pair of you stood in each other's arms, slow dancing as the night wore on.

You smiled up at the sky as you watched the comet move across the black sky. You cuddled into Brian's warmth. "It's beautiful, Brian." You lifted your head to look at him. "Thank you."

Brian grinned down at you before slowly pressing his lips against yours, pulling a soft moan from you. "Jeg elsker dig, fru May." Brian whispered his love for you in Danish making you grin. He shook his head with a soft chuckle, "Doesn't sound as romantic with me butchering it."

You giggled shaking your head as you reached up and cupped his wrinkled face, his youth still there as he smiled down at you. "I still love you, Mr May." You whispered as you leaned up and pressed your lips against his.

[hms-chill]

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 4

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

The Willard (75): A luxury hotel just down the street from the White House, where rooms can cost up to $8,000 per night. It hosts the turkeys to be pardoned by the president.

Cornbread and Stuffing (75): Traditional Thanksgiving dishes. Pardoning turkeys are commonly named after foods associated with Thanksgiving, recently including Bread, Butter, Cheese, and Apple.

Pennsylvania Avenue (75): The street that the White House and Willard are on.

Until I pardon them (75): The pardoning of the turkeys is an actual American tradition. Americans began sending turkeys to the president around the same time we started celebrating Thanksgiving, and the tradition of pardoning them began with Clinton in 1999. Only one turkey is officially pardoned, but there is always a backup turkey, and you can read their names here. 

En suite (76): A bathroom directly connected to a bedroom.

CNN (76): Cable News Network, a liberal news station.

Republican primary debate (76): A debate between candidates for the Republican (conservative) party, held before the party decides who they will nominate for the presidential race.

Summer home in Majorca (79): Majorca is an island in the Mediterranean, just off the coast of Spain.

Jurassic Park* (79): A movie in which dinosaurs escape from their cages and the main characters have to escape them.

Autoerotic asphyxiation (80): “erotic asphyxiation” is essentially sexual choking; if it’s “autoerotic” it would be Alex doing it to himself.

Silk pillow over my face (80): This may be a reference to the Shakespeare play Othello where (spoilers, though it’s been out for like 500 years) the title character smothers his wife with a pillow after rumors that she’s cheating on him.

Jaffa cakes (80): A British snack with a sponge cake base, a layer of orange jam, and topped with chocolate.

Jabba (81): Jabba the Hutt, a Star Wars character.

Great British Bake Off (81): A famously wholesome baking show that is technically a competition between home bakers from around the UK, though it is far from competitive.

Scandinavian skin care (81): Many luxury skincare brands have come from Scandinavian countries in the past few years.

Chopped (82): An incredibly competitive American cooking show.

The Manson tapes (82): A series of tapes revealing the dealings of the Manson Cult, which was responsible for nine murders in 1969.

David Bowie (82): A famously bisexual British actor and musician known for his bold presentation and stagecraft. He was admitted to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1996. (listen here and here)

Seinfeld (82): An American sitcom from the 1990s. Wayne Knight, who played Dennis Nedry and had a very bad time in Jurassic Park, was also in Seinfeld.

Jeff Goldblum (82): An American actor (and force of chaos) known for his role as Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park, a scientist who sees from the very beginning that maybe breeding massive predators is a bad idea.

The Post (84): The Washington Post

Oval Office (84): The president’s office in the White House

Lincoln Bedroom (85): A guest bedroom that is part of the Lincoln Suite in the White House, named after President Lincoln, who used to room as an office.

Chocolate shop on the first floor (85): According to the White House Museum online, there is a chocolate shop on the bottom floor of the White House that prepares the chocolates served in the White house.

The Atlantic (85): An American editorial magazine that covers news, politics, education, science, and more. It targets serious readers and “thought leaders”. (More)

Truman Balcony (85): A balcony overlooking the White House’s South Lawn (in the “back” of the White House).

Mijo (85): For those who haven’t read my fic “Speaking My Language” here, “mijo” is Spanish term of endearment that translates directly to “my son” (Mi hijo)

Washington monument (86): A tall obelisk on the National Mall in Washington, DC, dedicated to George Washington.

Eisenhower Building (86): The Eisenhower Executive Offices Building is a building that houses the executive Office of the President, including the Vice President’s office.

Los Bastardos (86): Spanish for “The bastards”.

Caldillo (86): a spicy Mexican beef stew.

Masa (86): A corn/maize dough used for making corn tortillas, tamales, and other Mexican/Latin American dishes.

Valedictorian (87): A student who ranks the highest in their graduating class in high school.

New Orleans (87): A city in Louisiana known for its vibrant blend of French and Creole culture, its jazz scene, and its Mardi Gras celebration. It is also Casey McQuinston’s hometown.

AP classes (90): Advanced placement classes are high school classes taught at a college level; at the end of the year, students take a test to determine whether or not they will get college credit for it.

Hanukkah (90): A Jewish celebration honoring the second rededicating of the temple in Jerusalem. It is not traditionally a major Jewish holiday, but it has become one of the best-known due to the fact that it occurs near Christmas every year. 

“Good King Wenceslas” (91): A traditional Christmas song about a king who braves the cold to give alms to a poor peasant on Christmas.

Jim-jams (91): Pajamas.

Tiger sharks over a baby seal (91): According to my roommate, who loves sharks, tiger sharks are one of the most vicious types of sharks. They’re bottom feeders, so they wouldn’t necessarily get seals too often, but if they got one, they would be all over it.

Bougie (95): Fancy or upper class (from the French “bourgeoisie”).

Real Housewife (95): The Real Housewives of [City] are a string of semi-popular American reality TV shows.

East Room (95): An event and reception room in the White House.

Tramp stamp (96): A tattoo on the lower back, associated with less savory activities and a general air of trashiness.

Zac Posen (97): A gay, Jewish fashion designer from New York, known for his glamorous evening gowns and cocktail dresses.

Middle-shelf whiskey (97): A “middle shelf” alcohol is one step up from the cheapest option; a whiskey is a dark alcohol associated with Texas/the West.

“American Girl” (98): A 1976 rock song that has become a rock classic. (Listen here)

Center for American Progress (98): A liberal public policy research and advocacy organization.

Pez (candy) (99): A type of small, sweet pieces of candy that come from fancy, collectable Pez dispensers.

Sky writers (99): Sky writers use the trails of their airplanes to write things in the sky. It costs at least $3,500 for a single message.

“Get Low” (101): Despite its incredibly raunchy lyrics, this song was a common one at school dances in the early 2010s. I was in middle school in roughly 2010-2012, and I have vivid memories of people being into this song.

The Kid ‘n Play (102): A dance move pioneered by the hip-hop duo of the same name, loosely based on the Charleston. (see it here)

Vato (102): Mexican slang for “friend”, “person”, or “dude”. 

Moët & Chandon (102): A luxury French champagne.

New Year’s Kiss (103): At least in the US, it’s traditionally considered good luck to kiss someone at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s.

Peach schnapps (103): Schnapps is a sweet, inexpensive, and very alcoholic drink.

Rookie NFL running back (103): A running back is a football position responsible for running with the ball. Most are either short and quick to avoid tackles or big and stocky to power through them.

Yacht kid (104): Someone rich.

Orion**(105): A winter northern hemisphere constellation of a hunter/warrior. According to Greek mythology, Orion was the only man (or person) the goddess Artemis ever loved, but she refused to give up her life with her huntresses for him. He began burning/destroying her forest in retribution, and she is forced to kill him.

America’s golden boy (105): A “golden boy” is a boy who is favored or put upon a pedestal. 

Tequila (106): A type of alcohol that originates from central Mexico.

Bloke (106): British slang for a “regular dude” or everyday man.

Teen Vogue (106): An American magazine aimed at teenagers that used to focus on fashion and celebrity news, but has more recently shifted to dealing with serious social issues.

------

*This movie is especially known for its special effects, which are incredible because they actually built animatronic dinosaurs and also got real scientists on the project to help them figure out how dinosaurs would move/act. After it came out, earth and environmental science departments around the world got a ton of funding to see if they could find any dinosaur DNA in fossils, as that’s a central part of the movie’s plot.

**According to a nerd astronomy class I took in like 4th grade, every culture who could see Orion saw a warrior, which is just... really cool to me. That so many people for so long saw the same thing in a set of stars.

------

If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it! A massive thanks to @lyanna-wilson for the ko-fis the other day; they meant a ton!

------

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 5 

[buzzdixonwriter]

My Five Most Influential

Someone asked:   Who are the most influential writers in your life?

Good question.

The broad answer is that one gets influenced many different ways by many different sources.  I enjoy poetry and song lyrics because they find ways of conveying the strongest emotional content in the most concise manner, music brings a sense of dramatic rhythm and fulfillment, the visual arts suggest ways of subtly adding many insights to a single strong idea, etc., etc., and of course, etc. (and that is also an example of a creative influence in my work).

But…to boil it down to those whom I most consciously made an effort to emulate, we find ourselves facing five creators that primed the pump.

This is not to say others whom I began following after them didn’t wield a lot of influence (thanx, Ernie, Bert, Jack, Bob, and Hank!) but these are the foundation of everything I’ve done in my career.

(And to those who notice a lack of diversity, I know, I know…but to be honest I have to acknowledge the truth, and the truth is for whatever reason, by chance or by choice, by fate or by fortune, these five dominated my sensibilities.  I trust that I’ve grown and expanded my horizons since then, but they’re the hand I got dealt.)

. . . 

Carl Barks

I loved ducks as a kid and my grandmother and aunt would always bring me a passel of duck-related comics when they came to visit.

There were some Daffy Duck comics mixed in there but while I know I looked at and enjoyed them, none of them stick in my mind like the Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge stories of Carl Barks.

Typically my grandmother would read these comics to me and I’d imprint the dialog and captions in my brain, replaying them as I looked at the pictures over and over again.

Barks never wrote down to his audience, and his stories covered a vast array of genres, everything from straight domestic comedy to oddball adventures to screwy crime stories.

Donald and his nephews encountered dinosaurs more than once (another big favorite of mine), and Uncle Scrooge setting out to explore the asteroid belt in order to find a new home for his fabulous money bin was another tale I loved literally to pieces, but A Christmas For Shacktown remains my all time favorite graphic novel.

I’ll concede there are better graphic novels, but none of them warm my heart the way that Christmas story does.

Barks showed it’s possible to combine heart (not to be confused with sentimentality or =yuch!= schmaltz), vivid characters, and strong, intricate narrative.  His plots where typically filled with unexpected twists and turns but his characters were always deeply involved in them, not just along for the ride.

He’s one of the greatest storytellers in the 20th century, and his work remains timeless enough to last for several centuries to come.

. . . 

Ray Bradbury

The first Ray Bradbury story I remember encountering was “Switch On The Night” in its 1955 edition, read to my kindergarten class towards the end of the school year.

This would place the event sometime in the spring of 1959.

“Switch On The Night” captivated me because it was the first story I’d ever heard that showed what could be seen in the dark that couldn’t be seen in the day.

Even as a child, it made me realize the night wasn’t scary, but contained wonders and insights we miss in the harsh glare of day.

I don’t recall if the kindergarten teacher told us the name of the author, and if she did it didn’t stick, but boy howdy, the story sure did!  Did it open the doors of the night for me, or was I already inclined to be a night person and it simply confirmed that as a valid identity?

I dunno, but I’m typing this right now at 12:24am.

And the thoughts Bradbury planted in little Buzzy boy’s brain stayed and grew and flowered, as you can read in my poem, “The Magic Hours Of The Night”.

The next time I encountered Ray Bradbury’s writing was in grammar school, certainly no later than junior high.  I was already interested in science fiction by that point, and had read “The Pedestrian” in one of my school English books (we weren’t taught the story in class; the teacher skipped over it for whatever reason but I read it anyway then re-read it and read it again and again).

Anthony Boucher’s ubiquitous 2-volume A Treasury Of Great Science Fiction was in my grammar school library and in it was Bradbury’s “Pillar Of Fire” (which I would later learn was one of his alternate Martian Chronicles and a crossover with Fahrenheit 451) and in that story he offered up a veritable laundry list of outré and outlandish fiction to be tracked down and read, authors to dig up and devour.

Oh, man, I was hooked.

So of course I began looking for all the stories and writers Bradbury listed in his short story but I also began looking for Bradbury’s own work and before you could say, “Mom, can I get a subscription to the Science Fiction Book Club?” I’d read The Golden Apples Of The Sun and A Medicine For Melancholy and R is For Rocket never once dreaming that at some point in the future the roadmap Ray plopped down in my lap would eventually lead to us being co-workers (separate projects, but the same studio at the same time) and friends.

There is a beautiful yet deceptive simplicity to Ray’s work, and even though he wrote his own book on writing (The Zen Of Writing) that has lots of good insights and professional tricks & tips, he himself wasn’t able to explain how he did it.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a good Ray Bradbury parody.

I’ve seen parodies that clearly are intended to evoke Ray Bradbury, but only in the same way a clumsy older relative might evoke Michael Jackson with a spasmodic movement one vaguely recognizes as a failed attempt at a moonwalk.

But, lordie, don’t think we didn’t try to emulate him, and while none of us fanboys ever came close, I think a lot of us did learn that less is more, that the right word carries more impact than a dozen paragraphs, and that there’s magic in even the most ordinary of things.

And of course I discovered the film and TV adaptations of his work, and in discovering them I also discovered that there are some things that just can’t be translated from one media to another, and that the light, effortless appeal of Ray’s work on the page (paper or pixel) can at best be recaptured with a good audio book reader but even the best dramatic adaptions -- even those by Ray himself -- are cold dead iron butterflies compared to the light and lively creatures flying about.

So eventually I stopped trying to write like him, and instead picked up the valuable lessons of mood and emotion making an impact on a story even if the plot didn’t make much logical sense.

Decades later I would become a fan of opera, and would learn the philosophy of all opera lovers:  Opera doesn’t have to make logical sense, it just has to make emotional sense.

Ray Bradbury, opera meister.

. . . 

H.P. Lovecraft

As noted above, Bradbury’s “Pillar Of Fire” tipped me to numerous other writers, first and foremost of which turned out to be Howard Phillips Lovecraft.

Okay, before we get any further into this, let’s acknowledge the woolly mammoth in the room:  H.P. Lovecraft was a colossal asshat racist.

He was a lot of other terrible things, too, but racist is far and ahead of the rest of the pack.

It’s a disillusioning thing to find people one admired as a youngster or a teen later prove to have not just quirks and eccentricities and personal flaws, but genuinely destructive, harmful, and offensive characters.

I’ve posted on that before, too.

How I wish it were possible to retroactively scale back that hurtfulness, to make them more empathetic, less egregiously offensive (in the military sense of the word), but that ain’t so.

We have to acknowledge evil when we see it, and we have to call it out, and we have to shun it.

Which is hard when one of its practitioners provides a major influence in our creative lives.

Here’s what I liked about Lovecraft as a kid:  He was the complete opposite of Ray Bradbury.

Bradbury’s instinctive genius was in finding the right word, the simple word that conveyed great impact on the story, drawing the reader into the most fantastic situations by making them seem more familiar on a visceral level.

Lovecraft achieved the exact opposite effect by finding the most arcane, bedizened, baroque, florid, grandiloquent, overwrought, rococo verbiage possible and slapping the reader repeatedly in the face with it.

If Bradbury made the unreal real, Lovecraft made the weird even more weirder.

And let’s give this devil his due:  The Strange Case Of Charles Dexter Ward and The Dunwich Horror are two masterpieces of horror and serve as the bridge between Edgar Allen Poe and Stephen King, not to mention his creation of Cthulhu and other ancient entities existing beyond the ken of human knowledge…

…oh, wait, that’s where the story simultaneously gets messy yet provides a convenient escape hatch for fans.

While Lovecraft created Cthulhu, he did not create the Cthulhu Mythos.

That was primarily the invention August Derleth, a writer / editor / agent and H.P. Lovecraft’s #1 fanboy.

Lovecraft had some loosely related ideas in his stories and several themes he revisited repeatedly (in addition to racism).

He also had a circle of fellow writers -- including such heavy hitters as Robert “Psycho” Bloch and Robert E. “Conan” Howard -- who picked up on his ideas and, as way of a tribute, incorporated them in some of their stories.

Derleth took all this and Lovecraft’s unfinished manuscripts and short ideas he jotted down and turned it into a whole post-mortem industry, linking all of Lovecraft and other writers’ tales.

And he did a damn fine job of it, too.

So much so that the Cthulhu Mythos has taken on a life of its own, and pretty much anybody can play in that cosmic sandbox now (including Big Steve King and a ton of Japanese anime) and so Lovecraft’s works have an enormous influence on pop culture…

,,,but Howard hizzowndamsef can be -- and is -- cancelled.

Derleth and various biographers downplayed Lovecraft’s virulent racism for decades, and I don’t think Ray Bradbury was ever aware of the scope and tenor of Lovecraft’s bigotry when he name checked him in “Pillar Of Fire” and other stories.

In a similar vein Bradbury didn’t know -- because thanks again to overly protective literary executors, nobody knew -- just how big a racist asshat Walt Whitman was, either.  It is one thing to call shenanigans on a Bill Cosby or a Harvey Weinstein or a Donald Trump because their egregious behaviors were noted long before they were held accountable, but quite another to do so on a creator who died while hiding their most awful behavior from thousands if not millions of fans who felt inspired and uplifted by their work.

It’s one thing to call out a contemporary bigot and not support them by not buying their work, it’s quite another when their bigotry has been shielded from view and fair minded, decent people have used their work to draw inspiration into their own creativity.

Of course, I had no way of knowing all this when I was in junior high and seriously began tracking down Lovecraft’s work.  

He possessed a flair of the horrific and unearthly that to this day is hard to match (but easier to parody).  He was a tremendous influence on my early writing (truth be told, I zigzagged between Bradbury’s stark simplicity and Lovecraft’s overarching verbosity, giving my early oeuvre a rather schizophrenic style) and the ideas he sparked still reverberate to this day.

If only he hadn’t been such a giant %#@&ing asshat racist …

. . . 

Harlan Ellison

In a way, I’m glad neither Harlan nor his widow Susan are alive to read this.

I cherished Harlan as a friend and greatly admired his qualities as a writer.

But damn, by his own admission he should have been thrown in prison for aggravated assault on numerous occasions (he was courts martialed three times while in the Army).

We’re not talking about arguments that spiraled out of control until a few wild punches were thrown, we’re talking about Harlan by his own admission stalking and ambushing people, knocking them unconscious or causing grievous bodily harm.

We’re talking about sexual abuse and humiliation.

We’re talking about incidents he admitted to which if true put people in life threatening situations.

And yet ironically, in a certain sense Harlan (a bona fide Army Ranger, BTW) was like the U.S. Marine Corps:  You’d never have a greater friend or a worse enemy.

I became dimly aware of Harlan in the late 1960s as I started diving deeper into literary sci-fi, transitioning from monster kid fandom to digests and paperbacks.  Harlan first caught my attention with his macho prose (years later a similar style also drew me to Charles Bukowski) in stories like “Along the Scenic Route” (a.k.a. “Dogfight on 101”) in which Los Angelinos engaged in Mad Max motor mayhem but soon it became apparent the macho posturing was just a patina, that the heart and soul of much of the work reflected great sensitivity and often profound melancholy (ditto Bukowski).

Harlan was a fighter, and again by his own admission, he acknowledged in his later years that he was not a fighter because his cause was just, but rather sought out just causes because he knew he would be fighting regardless of his position, yet possessed a strong enough moral compass to point himself in the direction of a worthy enemy…

…most of the time.

He hurt and offended a large number of innocent and some not-so-innocent-but-certainly-not-evil people.

He also helped and encouraged a large number of others, people who had no idea who he was, people who had no way of adequately reciprocating his kindness and generosity.

He defended a lot of defenseless people.

He also mistakenly defended a lot of terrible people.

If someone tells me Harlan was a monster, I’ll agree:  Monstre sacré.

What made his writing sacred was that no matter how outlandish the situation, Harlan dredged up from the depths emotions so strong as to be frightening in their depiction.

Skilled enough not to lose sight of humanity, outlandish enough to conjure up ideas and emotions most people would shy away from, Harlan hit adolescent Buzzy boy like an incendiary grenade.

Unlike my first three literary influences, Harlan was and remained active in the fannish circles where I was circulating at the time.  He regularly wrote letters and columns for various fanzines, including a few I subscribed to.

In a literary sense he stood, naked and unashamed, in full view of the world, and that willingness to go beyond mundane sensibilities is what made his work so compelling.

He certainly fired me up as an adolescent writer, and proved an amalgam of Bradbury and Lovecraft that got my creative juices flowing in a coherent direction.

I don’t think I ever consciously tried to imitate him in my writing, but I sure learned from him, both in how to charge a story with emotion and how to fight for what’s right regardless of the blow back.

I loved him as a friend.

But, damn, Harlan…you could act so ugly...

. . .

H. Allen Smith

Who?

Most of you have never heard of H. Allen Smith, and that’s a damn shame.

I’d never heard of him either until I stumbled across a coverless remaindered copy of Poor H. Allen Smith’s Almanac in a Dollar General Store bin in Tennessee in the late 1960s (it was a memorable shopping expedition:  I also purchased Thomas Heggen’s Mister Roberts and Let’s Kill Uncle by Rohan O'Grady [pen name of June Margaret O'Grady Skinner]).

Reading Smith’s editorial comments (in addition to his own essays and fiction he edited numerous humor anthologies) I realized I’d found a kindred soul.

Smith had a very conversational tone as a writer; his prose seemed off the cuff and unstructured, but he slyly used that style to hide the very peculiar (and often perverse) path he led readers down.

He sounded / read like a garrulous guy at the bar, one with a huge number of charming, witty (and delightfully inebriated) friends in addition to his own bottomless well of tall tales, pointed observations, and rude jokes.

Of all the writers mentioned above, that style is the one I most consciously tried to emulate, and one I seem to have been able to find my own voice in (several people have told me I write the same way I talk, a rarity among writers).

Smith was hilarious whether wearing an editor’s visor or a freelancer’s fool’s cap.  If you know who H. L. Mencken was, think of Smith as a benign, better tempered version of that infamous curmudgeon (and if you don’t know, hie thee hence to Google and find out).

Compared to my other four influences, Smith didn’t need to add the fantastic to his fiction:  The real world was weird and wacky and whimsical enough.

A newspaper man turned best selling author, Smith became among the most popular humorists of the 1940s-50s-60s…

…and then he died and everybody forgot him.

Part of the reason they forgot is that he wrote about things that no longer seem relevant (TV cowboys of the early television era, f’r instance, in Mr. Zip) or are today looked upon askance (and with justifiable reason; the ethnic humor in many of his anthologies may not have been intended as mean spirited, but it sure doesn’t read as a celebration of other cultures, viz his succinct account of an argument following a traffic accident between two native Honolulu cabbies rendered in pidgin:  “Wassamatta you?”  “’Wassmatta me’?!?!?  Wassamatta you ‘Wassamatta me’?  You wassamatta!”).

I’m sure I picked up a great many faults from Smith, but Smith also had the virtue of being willing and able to learn and to make an effort to be a better person today than he was yesterday, and better still tomorrow.

I’ve certainly tried applying that to my life.

Smith’s style was also invoked -- consciously or not -- by other writers and editors, notably Richard E. Geis, the editor of the legendary sci-fi semi-prozone, Science Fiction Review (among other titles).  Smith died before I could meet him, but while I never met Dick Geis face to face we were pen pals for over 40 years.

Geis certainly sharpened specific aspects of my writing style, but the real underlying structure came from H. Allen Smith.

Smith’s work is hard to find today (in no small part because whenever I encounter one in the wild I snap it up) but I urge you to give him a try.

Just brace yourself for things we might consider incorrect today.

. . . 

So there’s my top five. 

With the exception of Carl Barks and Ray Bradbury, none of them are without serious flaw or blemish (though Smith seems like a decent enough sort despite his fondness for X-rated and ethnic humor).

In my defense as an impressionable child / teen, I was not aware of these flaws and blemishes when I first encountered their writing (primarily because in many cases efforts were made to hide or downplay those aspects).

The positive things I gleaned from them are not negated by the negative personal information that came out later.

I can, for the most part re the more problematic of them, appreciate their work while not endorsing their behavior.

Ellison can only be described in extremes, but his fire and passion -- when directed in a positive direction -- served as a torch to light new paths (his two original anthologies, Dangerous Visions and Again, Dangerous Visions, pretty much blew the doors off old school sci-fi and belatedly dragged the genre kicking and screaming into the 20th century).

Lovecraft I can effectively ignore while finding entertainment value in the Cthulhu Mythos.

But I must acknowledge this isn’t the same for everyone.

For example, as innocuous as I find H. Allen Smith, if a woman or a member of a minority group said, “I found this in particular to be offensive” I’d probably have to say, yeah, you’re right.

But I can still admire the way he did it, even if I can no longer fully support what he did.

. . . 

By the time I reached high school, I’d acquired enough savvy to regard to literary finds a bit more dispassionately, appreciating what they did without trying to literally absorb it into my own writing.

I discovered for myself the Beat generation of writers and poets, the underground cartoonists of the late 60s and 70s, Ken Kesey, Joseph Heller, Philip K. Dick, Ursula K. LeGuin, and a host of others, some already alluded to.

Some, such as the Beats and Bukowski, I could enjoy for their warts and all honest self-reflection.

Yes, they were terrible people, but they knew they were terrible people, and they also knew there had to be something better, and while they may never have found the nirvana they sought, they at least sent back accurate reports of where they were in their journeys of exploration.

By my late teens, I’d become aware enough of human foibles and weaknesses -- every human’s foibles and weaknesses, including my own -- to be very, very cautious in regarding an individual as admirable.

While I will never accept creativity as an excuse for bad behavior, if a creator is honest enough and self-introspective enough to recognize and acknowledge their own failings, it goes a long way towards my being willing to enjoy their work without feeling I’m endorsing them as individuals.

It’s not my place to pass judgment or exoneration on others bad behavior.

It is my place to see that I don’t emulate others’ bad behavior.

Every creator is connected to their art, even if it’s by-the-numbers for-hire hack work.

Every creator puts something of themselves into the final product.

And every member of the audience must decide for themselves if that renders the final product too toxic to be enjoyed. 

    © Buzz Dixon

[rachelthompsonauthor]

The past two quarantine months have been like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my lifetime, and I turned 56 in January. So rather than regurgitate what you’ve likely read in the news or on social media, I’ve decided to share how I’ve spent my time these past two months along with random thoughts. I hope you’ll continue along with me as I share what I’m doing each week.

Books

Oh, how I’ve missed reading! With my business so insanely busy (for which I’m truly grateful) these past few years, I’ve barely had time to read little more than Slack, emails, texts, and social media updates. Not exactly satisfying for this lifelong, avid reader. This quarantine has allowed me a little bit of extra time, which I’ve put to good use.

In no particular order, here’s what I’ve read: 

The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow is fantastic. Read it in one sitting because I didn’t want any of the details of this lacy, incredibly intricate work to fade. I highly recommend it. A mix of fantasy, drama, and a love story (because in the end, aren’t all stories love stories?), anyone with a working brain will love this novel.

  Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng is also superb. I’d heard about this book for a while, yet only got around to it because it’s also now a mini-series on Hulu (which I watched afterward – also very good, though the character arcs and the plot changed in crucial, at times startling, ways).

Curious if you’ve read the book and watched the series, what your thoughts are? I could write an entire post about it, yet I’ll only share this…

As a child, my parents hire a housekeeper. My folks both work full-time and we are not in any way rich or well-off. Neither of my folks has college degrees – Dad is an assistant manager at a chain drugstore and Mom has just completed x-ray tech school and works nights at San Bernardino County Hospital. We live in a small house on a long street in the smoggy Inland Empire of California.

There are two of us, my older sister and me. Then my mom gets pregnant when I’m nine and has my baby sister when I’m ten. My folks advertise for a housekeeper and Miss Louise answers. She’s African American and willing to work for the little they can pay her. She smokes a lot (outside only, so as “not to hurt the babies”), insists on wearing a uniform though my mom tells her it isn’t necessary and comes looking for us in her big old white Caddy if we aren’t home from school exactly 20 minutes after it lets out.

(Miss Louise’s husband’s name is George. If you are alive in the 70s and watch The Jeffersons, you understand why this is an endless source of amusement to my sister Caren and me.)

Being that young, neither Caren nor I understand what privilege means. We didn’t get whatever we wanted because my parents are always strapped, yet there is food on the table, and the lights are always on. Except for the occasional venture to Disneyland or Knott’s Berry Farm that one time (mom hated it), our vacations consist of driving to visit our Zayde (great-grandfather) in a nursing home in Santa Cruz, or some other relatives we don’t know somewhere in L.A. (I remember one great-aunt who drank. A lot.) We’d always stop at Cantor’s for a soup and sandwich (the highlight for us), and be back on the road. We don’t mind because it is anywhere but home.

Anyway – my entire point is that in Little Fires Everywhere – the show – Kerry Washington’s Mia is an artist who takes a maid job with Reese Witherspoon’s Elena Richardson’s family to keep an eye on her daughter Pearl, who is quite taken with the teenage Richardson clan. The racial and financial dichotomy is blatantly obvious: a rich family who’s seemingly got it all vs. a seemingly poor black single mother, which adds to the ‘fires’ mentioned in the title.

The book really made me think about my own privilege and despite how well my folks treated Louise, and how much we loved her, and she us, there would always be that wall. Granted, it was a business arrangement and my folks paid her for her services, and in truth, anyone could’ve answered the housekeeping ad. The fact that she was African American and we were white created a racial divide that’s undeniable.

The third book I read is Certain Cure by Jennifer Valoppi, also excellent. It’s the first in a series (parts two and three aren’t out yet, darn it). The novel chronicles the life of three generations of the Cummings family; Claire, a woman in her 70s who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer, Helene, her television journalist daughter and Justin, the teenage grandson whose adoration of his “Grams” leads him to discover the dark secret behind the miracle technology that is not only curing Claire of her cancer but tempting his mother with eternal youth, as traditional medical industries wage war against the mysterious doctor from China who threatens them all.

I had no idea what to expect with this one, and I’m glad I read it. Valoppi is a former TV journalist from NYC so she knows her stuff. I’m not particularly religious (or scientific), yet I didn’t find either the science or religious stuff bogged me down.  Fascinating read. I highly recommend it.

Movies and Shows

Gosh, so many. With four of us in the house (and two teens), it’s worth it to me to pay for Hulu and Netflix, Amazon Prime Video comes with my Amazon Prime membership already, plus my internet plan comes with AT&T Direct, Showtime, HBO, and other premium channels. For the amount of entertainment, it’s worth the money.

I watch movies and shows on my iPad at night, once I’m finally off my computer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t like a super loud TV with stereo surround-sound barking at me after a long day of noise and stress. So I go upstairs to my cozy bed, surround myself with blankets and pillows and cats, and snuggle in for a few hours to watch a movie or a few episodes of something I enjoy.

Another note: not a big ‘reality TV’ watcher, mostly because, as a writer, I prefer well-written shows. I also don’t like the negativity and yelling normally associated with those shows. That said, I do watch Vanderpump Rules (on Bravo) with my daughter (age 20). We bond.

Shows

Here’s what I’ve binged these past few quarantine months, show-wise (no links because you can Google):

Ray Donovan – ggggggreat! Heard it was wonderful, yet truly had no idea how awesome. Liev Schrieber is captivating as Ray. Flawed, human, sad, and, in case you don’t know, a childhood sexual abuse survivor (church abuse). I had no idea going in this would be a theme of the show, yet it was handled with care and truth. The entire supporting cast is also amazing. Every season is great. Watch it all. I hated to see it end.

Homeland – the first four or so seasons were mesmerizing. Then, I got bored. This last season had me falling asleep and then WHAM! that ending. Worth it.

Hunters – Good, not fantastically great. The twist in the last episode will get you, though.

Upload – Loved it! Thought it would be silliness (and in some places, it was, but that’s okay – we need a little silliness right now). Had a ton of heart which I love.

Bosch – come on, it’s Titus Welliver. He’s fantastic. This last season didn’t draw me in as much as the entire rest of the series, though. You?

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel – terrific, all of it. Every season, every episode, every character.

Tales From The Loop – amazing. Anything having to do with time-travel or the bending of time, I’m a total sucker for. This hurt my brain in a good way.

The Feed – weird but good and thought-provoking.

Dark – by far, my favorite show year. A German show dubbed in English (you get used to it – don’t let that scare you off), this time-bending, decade-moving hit show spans two seasons and every episode is worth watching. And the music – my god. Amazing. Here’s a Spotify playlist link.

Movies

Parasite – thought-provoking. Took a while to get into it and then boom! It just goes full-on insanity. Well-written, well-acted, and the message of the movie is just, wow. No spoilers in case you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it.

Hustlers – loved it. Whatever issues people have with strip clubs and ‘dancers,’ get over it. These girls are amazingly talented, are in amazing shape, and work hard to make money for their families. What I loved the most about the movie is that it’s all about the women; the men are only there as a plot device. It’s a movie entirely shot through the ‘female gaze’ (though of course, men will enjoy the dance scenes which are sexy, yet not unclothed). How many movies can say that?

Memento – I think I’m probably one of the few people who had never seen this neo-noir psychological thriller starring Guy Pearce looking like Brad Pitt (who was originally considered for the role). It was great, I think? LOL. My brain still hurts.

Call Me By Your Name – Lovely, sad, gorgeous. (And I will not make a juvenile peach joke.) And the music! Oh, my.

Zombieland – I hate zombies, I hate horror movies. I hate gore and squishy sounds. This movie was cute. (Not ready for the sequel, yet.)

Music

As mentioned above, the music in Dark sent me off on a ‘who are these talented musicians?’ lark. I’ve discovered so many. Here is who I’m listening to right now (all free on Spotify) and links provided here:

Apparat (you’ll recognize the opening theme of Dark and stay for the rest).

Agnes Obel – wondrous. I’ve played her entire catalog repeatedly since discovering her music on Dark. She’s become a commercial favorite as well now. Familiar is the song used in the show that’s received the most play.

Alev Lanz – otherworldly. I’ve not heard anyone like her. Her songs on the Dark soundtrack and Black Mirror are what she’s most noted for (May The Angels, and Fall Into Me, respectively), however, I love all of her work. Her harmonies are like nothing else. One song is layered with her voice and African throat singers – it’s gorgeous (May The Angels). She’s active on Twitter and we’ve interacted a few times. She’s beautifully transparent about her love of music and it shows in all her work.

Patrick Watson – I heard this song, Good Morning Mr. Wolf, on the Ray Donovan soundtrack and immediately clicked my SoundHound app. Who is this talented being? This song, in particular, sounds so large and cinematic – I wondered – is he is a film composer? (yes). A band? (yes). And so much more. I cannot get enough of all of his music, and still, I play this one song on repeat – repeatedly.

London Grammar – I discovered this band a few years ago and still adore them. Strong is still my favorite song, though Rooting For You is a close second. Hannah Reid’s vocals are big and beautiful.

Hilary Woods – ethereal and lovely. Especially the song Kith.

Sufjan Stevens – many of us just discovered him from the movie Call Me By Your Name soundscore, however, he’s been a working musician since the early 2000s. Talented beyond.

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. I made a Female Rockers list on Spotify which you’re welcome to.

Thoughts on Quarantine

My Business

Living in California, I’ve barely left the house in two months, with the exception of going to the pharmacy for meds or for the occasional physician appointment for me or the kids, because of the quarantine restrictions in place. And I’m okay with that.

I’m fortunate that my business is primarily online-only: I work with authors and small businesses on their branding, marketing, and promotion, so given that all real-life events are off the table, I’ve been quite busy working with my clients to ensure their products and services are still viable.

This doesn’t mean I don’t need help as a small business. I applied for an SBA loan and couldn’t even get onto the website the first time – it was pretty ridiculous – like the end scene in Beetlejuice. You all know who those first small business loans went to, right? Not small-potatoes people like me. So the second time around, it went much smoother, and I’m grateful to have received a small loan which will definitely help me keep going with rent, insurance, and other expenses.

I still did my annual non-profit initiative for writers, NaNoProMo (National Novel Promotion Month) this year over on my business site, BadRedhead Media, yet only for two weeks instead of the entire month. Daily blog posts from experts on everything publishing-related plus amazing giveaways. It’s always exhausting, yet I find enormous gratification in helping writers.

This year, however, getting writers to comment to win amazing, FREE giveaways was like pushing a house up a hill. I get it – people are focused on putting food on the table instead of commenting on blog posts, even if the giveaways were worth $500. That’s why I wanted to do this initiative this year – to help writers who are in a jam – yet only a smattering of writers participated.

I’m seriously rethinking if I want to do it next year given the financial cost as well as the personal toll. My first therapist, who I started seeing after I gave birth to my daughter Anya (I was terrified to leave her to go back to work, given my history with childhood sexual abuse), gave me this tip whenever I had trouble deciding whether to do something:

“If you ever aren’t sure if you should do something, ask yourself this question: Is this good for Rachel? If the answer is yes, do it. If the answer is no, don’t. It really is that simple.”

Self-care, y’all.

Social Media

I’ve stopped interacting with the crazies on social media (and who knows, maybe you’re one of them so truly, no offense), but I’d rather stay safe and keep my family safe by working exclusively at home – which I mostly do anyway – than venture back into face-to-face meetings with clients. I support four people with my business and if something happens to me, four people are doomed.

So the answer is simple to me: stay home, work from home, and don’t risk dying from this virus.

I don’t buy into any of this ridiculous conspiracy crap. Sorry, not sorry. You can if you want to. Spending time arguing with people online about it takes away time from my business, my kids, my guy, and my own sanity. Speaking of which…

Mental Health

There were a few mix-ups with my meds when this all started, and I couldn’t get my prescriptions filled and delivered before I ran out, so I ended up having about a week of insomnia which I’ve never had to deal with. I was a zombie (the non-squishy kind) and it sucked.

If you have insomnia, I’m sorry. I feel for you.

It’s all straightened out now, thank goodness. My son Lukas and I donned our masks and drove to the local CVS the other day because I couldn’t wait two days for my meds to be delivered. It felt like walking into a dystopian future walking in there: everyone in masks, tape six feet apart for the waiting line, plexiglass between us and the cashiers.

I’m thankful for these measures, of course, and wonder how long we’ll need them, or if this is our new normal?

My Writing

I finished the final edits on Broken People and sent it back to my editor. She’s had some health issues, so the delay is understandable. To be honest, I’m not in a huge hurry to launch a new book right now. Here are the questions that run through my mind:

Do people have money to purchase a new book?

If they do, will they want to read my new book?

If they do want to read my new book, will they take the money they do have to read mine, and then review it?

Does it even matter in the grand scheme of life? 

I’m an author just like any author – I want to get my work out there so people can read it, engage with it, connect with me. I hope they’ll like it, feel something, reflect on their own lives, learn something new, particularly about being a childhood sexual abuse survivor. It’s a weird limbo to be in right now.

Our New Normal

This phrase is bandied about quite a lot yet let’s face it: it’s life as we know it, now. The anxiety is real, too. I haven’t hugged or kissed my elderly parents who live two miles away in two months. I bring them toilet paper and cookies from our favorite bakery (drive up and trunk drop off, pay online only) and drop it on their porch.

All these scenarios run through my mind: If I go to do this, what happens if? I know I’m not the only one. And yet, we can’t predict anything. So I sit here, writing this post, safe inside my little house bubble, grateful I can pay my rent, put food on the table (delivered by Instacart, thankfully), and everyone around me is healthy.

What’s your new normal? What have you been reading, watching, and listening to? If you’ve stuck it out this far, I thank you. Would love to hear your comments! Safe hugs, y’all. 

***

Read more about Rachel’s experiences in the award-winning book, Broken Pieces.

She goes into more detail about living with PTSD and realizing the effects of how being a survivor affected her life in

Broken Places, available in print everywhere!

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