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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 1 year ago

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Susan Kay's 'Phantom' Read: Part I (Madeleine)

I'm gonna start by voicing a deep dislike and annoyance for the endorsements on the back.

"Adds new depth and perspective, moving well beyond the familiar bounds of the story..." -- Publisher's Weekly

... No, it doesn't. It offers ONE person's take while actively circumventing, contradicting and ignoring canon. You can't "add new perspective" to someone else's work by making up your own shit. This is nothing more or less than Fanfiction. And Fanfiction is by no means bad, but just because it follows the basic timeline outlined by the original author, that doesn't make it any more legitimate than any other transformative/derivative work just because it's in book form.

Even more aggravating is this, from School Library Journal:

"Phantom of the Opera fans no longer need to ponder what was in Erik's past, as Kay has created one for him in this deeply moving, poignant story . . . This sad, but beautiful, novel will be especially popular with [those] who have enjoyed the current musical."

I hate that this is actively encouraging readers to accept this dross as canon. "No need to draw your own conclusions, just ape off of this author!"

All of my above statements about how THIS IS VERY MUCH NOT CANON AND SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN CONFLATED WITH LEROUX CANON TO THE EXTENT THAT IT WAS stand.

Like whether you enjoy it or not, IT'S NOT CANON.

Anyway, onto 'Madeleine'

My first question is, did Kay name her this so that later, when Erik talks about marrying Christine at the Madeleine Church, she could point back to this and go "Haha! Mommy issues!"?

Now that's aside...

So, I actually liked the writing quite a bit. There are some decently witty phrases here and a few even made me chuckle.

I personally think she spent way more time than she needed to on Madeleine, who is, I won't mince words here, an OC. There's so many details I just don't want or need.

I will be honest, I think Kay did a good job capturing Erik’s troubling characteristics and applying them what he would perhaps have been like as a child.

My biggest problem is the Renesmee of it all.

I dislike the fact that infant Erik is portrayed as having a kind of consciousness. Of course, Madeleine is an unreliable narrator, so it could easily be that she simply projected an unnatural consciousness onto him out of fear, but I somehow doubt that this is what Kay was aiming for. The way she has Madeleine describe Erik as an infant seems to indicate that, from the moment he was born, he has understood himself to be afflicted and different, which I deeply dislike.

It has always seemed to me, that, whatever skills and gifts Erik employed, Leroux's point was that, under it all, he really was nothing more than a man; that, had he been treated with acceptance, he would not have been very different to any other man. No bizarre consciousness bestowed upon him as a curse on his mother for the sin of vanity made Erik into the haunting soul that he is.

And that really does seem to be the implication here, which is a problem for me. Its one thing to write Erik's mother regarding him as a punishment from God, its quite another to actually support that idea in the text by having him develop, not only intellectually, but physically, beyond the bounds of humanity. Crawling at six months, sure. Speaking at six months and walking at 9? No. Absolutely not. We're not doing this.

Even his deformity is treated as something supernatural (which is REALLY annoying, since we know that Leroux prided himself on even his outlandish writing choices being based in reality and accepted medical knowledge of the time. We KNOW he consulted doctors about potential diseases upon which he could base Erik’s disorder (which is likely either congenital syphilis, or Gunther Disease).

Erik became what he was because he was a child like any other and couldn't understand why he was denied the affection and attention he craved as a basic instinct, what nature dictates as natural; denied his first and most basic human right--a mother's love.

It's so much more meaningful and logical that hope should be drained from him gradually as his mother continually rejects the natural order; that he should gradually come to conclude that he is an exception to Nature's established rules, and this then is what drives Erik to build himself into something extraordinary, using the exceptionally favourable gifts he was granted by God and nature.

Now I've heard about what a bitch Madeleine is, but honestly she's not half as bad as what I was expecting (at least from her own narrative). That she takes the trouble to try and educate him herself is interesting to me, but also kind of silly. Kay grants child!Erik an intellect and developmental speed that is "Nothing short of preturnatural". If you're going to treat him like a supernaturally intelligent being then why spend so much real estate on his education?

I'm also not sold on the idea that canon!Erik's mother would ever have put that much effort into fostering his intellect.

But then in my head-canon, Erik's mother put it about that Erik died in the cradle shortly after his birth and kept him hidden for his entire childhood (which frankly, I think, is the more realistic scenario--but then I would, its my headcanon).

Also, you remember when I talked about Kay ignoring and contradicting canon?

Erik has "mis-matched eyes" in this book. That's from the musical. Also he's Christened a "Erik" here (his mother tells the priest to give the baby his own name). Erik isn't actually Erik's birth name in Leroux. It's a name he adopted "By chance" in his adult life.

Overall I found this whole section very tedious, but perhaps the most upsetting thing about it for me was this.

I was told that Erik's mother is a bitch (big surprise, we all knew that).

So I was expecting gross neglect, constant verbal abuse, physical abuse etc.

Well it was surprisingly light on all of that. In fact Madeleine is self-aware enough, with the help of another OC, her friend Marie (who is the only person in this book with any rights, imho) that she's lacking as a mother, and feels guilty about this.

She even ***Spoilers*** comes around to a point where she comes to terms with having Erik for a son... just in time for him to run away after his beloved dog gets killed by a mob of local boys.

What NO ONE MENTIONED and what I found just absolutely, insane, unnecessary, and repugnant, is the treatment of Erik's voice as being inherently sexual from birth.

This excerpt, from page 7, describing Madeleine's first experience of hearing Erik cry as a newborn, sets the tone for the first half of her narrative:

And then he cried! I have no words to describe the first sound of his voice and the extraordinary response it evoked in me. I had always considered the cry of a newborn to be utterly sexless--piercing, irritating, curiously unattractive. But his voice was a strange music that brought tears rushing to my eyes, strangely seducing my body so that my breasts ached with a primitive and overwhelming urge to hold him close.

And is followed by these little gems:

I had begun to be afraid of the manner in which his voice was manipulating me. It seemed evil somehow, almost . . . incestuous.

Whatever spiritual ecstasy Father Mansart derived from those throbbing notes, my response was utterly and unequivocally physical.

The words were for God; but the voice, the exquisite, irresistible voice was for me and it pulled like a magnet somewhere deep and unseen inside my body.

I find these so particularly repugnant because after a little while this fixation with Madeleine sexualizing her son's voice... just stops. It goes nowhere, and there's no real reason given for why it stops being a theme. I'm completely baffled and disturbed as to why this is in here at all, especially because Leroux describes Erik's voice in many ways (angelic, sweet, beautiful, pure, triumphant, powerful, sinister) but he never explicitly attributes sexual attraction to it, even from Christine's perspective. Christine is so viscerally transported by the beauty of his song because it is beautiful music and she's a freak for music, not because his voice's default setting is "automatic aphrodisiac".

Erik does seduce Christine with his voice, that's absolutely true, but only because that's what he intends it to do, not because that's just what it does on its own.

Masterpost

#phantom of the opera #poto #commentary on 'Phantom'#kaynon vs. canon

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insomniac-jay · 7 months ago

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Sneak peek for the gay ppl

Chapter 5: First Meeting

Wednesday came, and that meant meetings. It wouldn't happen until everyone was off work though.

Mona sang a lullaby to Mabelle, prepared to put the two year old down for her nap. She loved small moments like this with her family; particularly her children. Between working on new projects and planning for shows, any moment of relaxation was welcome.

Mabelle held onto her mother's shirt as she closed her little eyes. A few minutes later, she peacefully drifted off to sleep. Mona gently laid her in the crib and put a blanket over her before leaving the room. As soon as she did, Elizabeth peeked her head into the room.

"Hi, Mommy! Can I play with Bebe?" Elizabeth looked just like her father, only with a brighter, more mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Not right now, mezanmi. Mommy has to go to a meeting and Mabelle's sleeping. But you can come with me to my meeting."

Elizabeth cheered, following Mona to her bedroom and sitting near her desk. Humming one of her songs while she pulled out her computer, Mona straightened herself up in preparation for the meeting. A smile came to her face watching little Lizzy copy her.

"Hello, ladies, and welcome to our official first meeting," Christine said. "I'm glad you decided to join us."

The other ladies greeted her and each other. Elizabeth moved over to get a better look at all the ladies. Mona lovingly scratched her head. "I have a special guest with me today. Lizzy, would you like to say hello?"

"Hi! Bonjou!" Lizzy waved.

Edward made it a point that both he and his daughter learn Haitian Creole. It was so cute watching them learn. The ladies waved back and cooed at the adorable child.

"Aww! Who's this lil cutie?" Marina cooed.

"My fiance's daughter. Her name is Elizabeth." Mona pulled on the arm of Lizzy's hair to bring her closer. "My other one is taking a nap."

"That's alright. I just wanna start this meeting off by asking how all of us are doing," Christine asked.

Brandice answered first. "I'm alright. I'm not sick anymore so I went back to teaching my class today."

An hour into the meeting, Mona turned on the TV for background noise and for Lizzy just in case she was bored. The 10 year old was very respectful and watched the TV quietly so she wouldn't interrupt the meeting.

Mona was too busy listening to Eve talk about how much she missed her husband to notice the breaking news. Elizabeth did, however.

"Mommy, mommy! Look!"

Mona turned to see a massive riot happening at Arkham. Guards struggled to quell it.. Somehow the prisoners got ahold of some weapons, causing shootouts. Several high profile criminals escaped--including the Riddler. Apparently with help from his henchmen Echo and Query. Authorities were currently trying to look for all the escapees while restoring order back at the asylum.

"Mona? Mona Lisa, are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh yes..." Not that she hadn't known he'd escape; but to do it so soon was unexpected.

"Mommy?" Elizabeth tugged at Mona's shirt.

Mona rubbed her back. "I'm fine, sweetie."

Christine had no time to ask Mona what happened when the front door opened. Grabbing a shotgun, she crept her way to the foyer. A large, imposing shadow stood in the doorway.

"Who's there?!" Christine called out.

"Who else would it be?"

Christine set down the gun and rushed to the door. There was her husband Darius. But he wasn't his usual upbeat self. This man had bags under his eyes and looked a mix of depressed and agitated. Her heart ached for him.

"Oh my god, Darius! What happened?"

"I'm tired, chere." His Cajun accent was more pronounced than usual.

Everybody's all out of sorts, Eve thought to herself. Not that she blamed them. So many things were happening at once. A familiar pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders. When she turned her head, she came face to face with her husband Hollow.

"Don't you look good today, Jessi Eve."

Eve's eyes widened. "When did-"

Hollow waved at the ladies with a bright smile on his face. "How ya doin', ladies? Hope you don't mind me stealin' m' lady for a bit." Eve's screen went black a few seconds later.

Brandice seemed to be the only one who didn't have something going on--except for her husband sleeping on her lap. All was calm at the Bivolo house.

"I guess the meeting's over..." Brandice ended her side and logged off. Great timing since she had some papers to grade and reports to put in. She stroked Bivolo's hair in between grading.

Christine sighed, having finally gotten Darius to calm down. Apparently the guards at Arkham were testing a new way to keep patients at bay by using the voice of a relative. They were aware many didn't grow up in loving homes and that made it even more cruel. Darius was their first target.

The more she thought about it, she realized that Darius knew everything about her and her family but knew almost nothing about him. Even after they got married, there were still many things she had yet to learn about him.

She knew Lisette, Darius's mother, used to be an actress on Broadway and that was it. She saw some of Lisette's pictures and got to watch her in action via videos on the Internet and some provided by Darius. However, he never talked about them--especially his father--in further detail.

Darius kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry about that, mon ami. I just needed to get it off my chest," he said now that he was back to his usual self. "That means I can't go back to Arkham. I don't want to either."

"It's alright. What they did to you was horrible." Still, the thought of not knowing his family slightly bothered her. "You're gonna have to lay low for a few months if you don't wanna go back there. In the meantime, try to find a job or something."

Darius mumbled. He never had another job since his acting and singing careers declined. Add in his criminal record and it left him wondering if there even was anything for him to do.

"Are you sure? I have lots of money in the bank that'll last for some time."

"Wouldn't hurt in getting a job. Maybe you can Crimson about working at that warehouse she works at." Christine leaned on him.

Night fell by the time Arkham was secure again. Lizzy was asleep and Mona was getting ready for bed when there was a knock at the front door.

"Who is it?" Salome asked, who also preparing to call it a night.

"Thirty men but only two women, yet these two hold the most power-"

Salome rolled her eyes and immediately opened the door. On the other side were Riddler, Echo, and Query dressed incognito. Just when her night couldn't get any better.

"I would've liked to finish my riddle, Salome." Edward huffed as he walked in. "And where's my gorgeous bride?"

The water turned off as Mona stepped out the shower. She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her before putting on her slippers. Walking out the bathroom brought her to the sight of Edward taking off his clothes; causing her to yelp.

He didn't mean to scare her or stare. Honest. But wow did Mona have some really nice legs. Long, smooth, toned. It wasn't too late for her to consider a career as a model. Over the course of their relationship, Edward's thoughts about Mona--or ones pretaining to her body--became less innocent. It would've been perfectly normal if certain parts of his body didn't react immaturely. The amount of times he almost ruined his covers or woke up to a tent in his pants because of an explicit dream about her was more than he liked.

"Apologies, mon lapine." Edward turned his head away to hide his blush. "Salome told me you were in here."

Giving her space to change into pajamas, Edward went to go check on the children. First was Lizzy's room to which he found her asleep, teddy bear in her arms. Next was Mabelle, who was the same as her big sister.

On his way back to the master bedroom, his mind kept going back to before. Was he...about to see Mona naked? He'd never seen her nude or in her underwear before. In fact, they had yet to get intimate; mainly due to Mona's pregnancy.

What will our wedding night be like? He saw Mona sleeping once he got back. It was the middle of the night after all. Taking off the rest of his clothes, Edward glanced at the sleeping woman. Her beauty increased tenfold when she wore no makeup, and the way the moonlight shone on her face proved it. So peaceful, serene. Like a fairytale princess waiting to be kissed by her prince.

So gorgeous, Edward set his glasses on the nightstand before climbing into bed next to her.

#jay's writings

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south-park-meta · 2 years ago

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as someone who did watched ladybird, I think i understand why their dynamic is so similar. besides the obvious generational conflict, the only difference is that Randy is more irresponsable than Marion

stan & ladybird (christine):

•sometimes they have felt shameful for expressing themselves but mostly of the time, have been seen vulnerable in front of friends and family. Despite getting shut down.

• feel frustration and dissatisfaction with their small towns and it's ppl ( with some exceptions: their friends,etc) and feel out place in their respective towns.

• desire for independence and rebellion against their respective authority figures: Ladybird wants to break free from her strict catholic school and her overbearing mother's expectations, while Stan often rebels against his father's absurd behavior and the unrealistic expectations of adults in his life.

•both struggled with being understood by their parents.

• randy and marion get annoyed and hate when their kids get in the way of their plans

• Randy and Marion project their own aspirations onto Stan and ladybird.

• that scene where ladybird gets accepted into college and her mother found out, dislikes it,and gives her the silent treatment.

• Randy post covid and his pride, in the same say marion refused to said goodbye to her daughter when she was going to another place to study, just bc she didn't obey her.

•despite the fact that ladybird and stan have said they hate randy or marion, but at the same time, they cared about them.

the last monologue in ladybird:

Maybe they do have some similarities. That movie destroyed me emotionally.

(posting w/o opinion since i'm very in the dark for this haha. i'll tack on if i end up watching)

#a song from my favorite band is in it though which is all i know about it lol #i'm very media unsavvy but interested in people's opinions on things!#so ty :) i'm curious what other people think about this

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writing-good-vibes · 2 years ago

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all in the name of love

guess who's back !! i invite y'all to watch your favourite fanfic author project her own insecurity regarding intimacy/relationships onto this random hot topic employee. i put vincent through the ringer in this one, apologies in advance. bold is asl, as always. divider images by @/suckgirl. check out sol's art that heavily inspired vincent's smoking habit 🚬😈. domestic sinclair content for the most part but WARNING for some mild spicy implications because i am giving bo too much credit for his hoeing around.

When they are 9 years-old, Bo comes home from school one day and tells Vincent all about his day.

His class has been reading Charlotte's Web, and Bo doesn't like Zuckerman because he was going to eat the pig. He had meatloaf for lunch, and sat next to Scotty Jones, which was good because Scotty is the coolest kid in their grade. In geography they're still going over the State Capitals, which is really boring because Bo already knows all of the State Capitals. At recess he got married to Missy Landry.

At recess, Bo got married to Missy Landry.

Vincent nods and listens when Bo tells him how pretty Missy is. She has brown hair and brown eyes and is the best at jump rope and sits two seats in front of Bo in class. She's friends with Tanya Freeman who is the prettiest girl in their grade and who got married to Scotty at recess last Tuesday.

Vincent doesn't go to school with Bo, he stays at home and Mama teaches him all of his lessons. Reading, Writing, Arithmetic. Lester doesn't do any lessons yet because he's barely more than a baby. Or at least that's how Vince still sees him.

Vincent has read Charlotte's Web and has PB&Js for lunch and knows all of the State Capitals by heart.

Vincent doesn't have anyone to marry out on the schoolyard.

When they are 12 years old, Bo comes home from school with a handful of Valentines.

The two of them sit on Bo's bed and, as Vincent looks over each card, covered in glitter and pink gel pen love hearts, Bo tells him about the girls that sent them. The girls who giggled as they dropped their tokens of affection onto his desk as they passed by, and the ones that blushed.

Lisa and Tara and Christine and Becky.

Vincent traces each heart, each xoxo, with care. He puts the cards aside and tries to brush the glitter from his hands. It sticks in the creases of his palms and glints from the fabric of his baggy blue jeans.

He thinks, absently, about Joshua Mayer who lives down the hill from them. He has red hair that is almost as red as the hearts on Bo's Valentines.

Bo is still talking. He says he didn't send any Valentine's, because he doesn't care about soppy, girly things like that.

When they are 14, Bo gets himself a date to their first high school dance.

This is the first year that the twins have gone to school together. Mama said it would be better for Vincent to be around kids his own age for a while, and that she just didn't have the time to teach him what he needed at home anymore.

The lucky girl is Missy Landry. Vincent remembers her. Bo married her at recess when they were 9. It seems like their marriage is going well, and to think Vincent had expected they'd be divorced by now.

Vincent had though Bo didn't care about the dance. But he watches anyway as Bo walks up to Missy after Algebra and says, "Wanna go to the dance with me?"

That's it. Seven words that make up a question that Bo already knows the answer to. That everyone already knows the answer to.

Missy says yes and Bo grins. They briefly discuss their plans, before Missy's friend is tugging her elbow because the bell is about to go for next period.

The twins turn to make their way to their own classes.

"Who are you gonna ask?" Bo asks.

Vincent turns with a start. "What?"

"To the dance," Bo reiterates, though he knows Vince knows exactly what he meant. "You're going to ask someone, right?

Vincent shrugs, watches as Christine Deville passes them in the opposite direction. In the first week of their English class, Christine had forgotten her copy of Catcher in the Rye and had to share Vincent's copy, under teacher's orders. Vincent felt the sweat prickle on the back of his neck as Christine asked, "Should I move over to you?" He shook his head, shuffled his desk closer to hers and held the book as steady as he could, dutifully turning the page when necessary and certainly not making eye contact with the pretty girl next to him.

He doesn't make eye contact with her now, either. She passes them by without a second glance.

When they are 17 years-old, Bo is late driving him and Vincent home from school one Friday.

Vincent waits around the truck, swinging his legs from where he is sat on the dented hood. He and Bo aren't in the same 8th period, so they always meet at Bo's truck after the final bell and drive home. Across the lot, he sees Joshua Mayer. Now he's almost as tall as Vince and plays the tuba in marching band. He's with his band friends, all packing their instruments into someone's SUV. Joshua has a loud laugh, he always has, and it makes Vincent smile behind the mask. He dutifully ducks his head down anyway.

Bo ends up being almost 20 minutes late, and the parking lot is emptying out by the time he saunters up to his twin, looking far too pleased with himself.

"I have a date with Stacy Leblanc tonight," he says, hopping into the drivers seat and switching the ignition.

Vincent follows, climbing in the passenger side door and throwing his school bag into the back seat. "Is that why you were late?"

"Time is it?" Bo asks. He doesn't wear a watch, so Vincent does.

Vince shuffles the sleeve of his hoodie up and checks the time. "3:18."

"I'm not that late," he chides, putting the truck into gear and driving out of the lot. "Had plans to make, didn't I? M'pickin' her up at 6."

They drive in silence for a while, until they get to the long stretch of road that leads back to Ambrose. It's secluded, with tall, windswept trees on either side and a dwindling trickle of traffic.

Bo glances over at Vincent, feeling a heaviness in the air that always comes when it isn't a good time for Vince to speak but he has something to say anyway. Humming lowly with interest, Bo sits back in his seat.

Vince leans forward, twisting in his seat to better face his brother. "I thought you said Stacy Leblanc was a slut?"

He did say that, last week actually. "Yeah well, she should know what she's doing then, shouldn't she?" He grins, raising his brows almost comically.

Vincent shrugs noncommittedly. "If you say so."

Bo smirks, pushing playfully at Vincent's chest. He leans back against the passenger door to get out of Bo's reach. "What, you jealous? I could put in a good word for you, if you want? Then maybe you'll finally get some."

When they are 21, Vincent drops out of college and Bo has to come and pick him up.

They don't talk for a long while. They pack Vince's things up into boxes and stack them in the back of Bo's truck. Each box is labelled. Clothes. Bedding. Books. Supplies: Paints. Supplies: Tools. Supplies: Sketching.

He stops by at a few of his friends dorms to say goodbye. He doesn't tell them he's not coming back in the fall. Just as he's leaving the dorm block, he runs into another friend. A girl from his Art History class. They'd been to parties together, sipping wine in the corner, sometimes his free hand would brush hers, but they never talked about that. He says one more goodbye and then turns to leave

He finds the truck parked across the street. Bo is sat on the dented hood, smoking.

"Who's the lil' blonde?" Bo gestures discreetly over Vincent's shoulder with the cigarette packet.

Vince takes a smoke and slowly turns to look in the direction Bo is pointing. Of course he knows who Bo's talking about, but what harm is there in one last look?

She's continuing down the side walk, the same way she was going when Vincent crossed her path that final time. As she rounds the corner of the block, she casts a glance over her shoulder, gives a half-wave in Vincent's direction, and then disappears out of his life. Or he is about to disappear out of hers? Same difference.

When he turns back to his twin, Bo is holding a lighter out, the flame flickering in the faint breeze. Vincent shifts his mask off, dangling it gently from his fingers for a second, before he deposits it safely next to Bo. As Vincent leans forward to light his cigarette, he lets his hair fall just enough to cover his face.

Pulling away and taking the first testing drags, Vincent replies, "Loretta."

"She's cute," Bo nods, like he's appraising a piece of antique furniture. "She put out?"

Vincent shakes his head.

When they are 22, the guy that Bo had sworn he wasn't dating moves out of Ambrose, so he convinces Vincent to come with him to the closest bar for some of that brotherly bonding they hadn't had a lot of time for in the past few months. He most definitely is not drowning his sorrows.

Vincent doesn't go out much anymore, but he usually accompanies Bo without much fuss. At least he can drive them home, so Bo doesn't total the truck. And to think, once upon a time, Vince was worried that it'd always be him that totalled the Chevy.

They sit at the bar and Bo drinks and Vincent smokes.

A girl with brown hair and brown eyes appears beside Bo and he buys her a drink, because Bo has never been immune to a pretty girl. She bats her lashes and Bo excuses them to "get some air".

Vincent waits, watching the clock above the bar. Sometimes, he wonders if Bo brings him along to be a comparative wingman. Because, Vincent knows, any girl in their right mind would rather hook up with Bo, especially when they see that he is the ugly alternative. He ashes his cigarette into the green glass ash tray.

There's a man, with cropped black hair and broad shoulders, at at the other end of the bar. Vincent can't help but stare. Well-timed glances which make his own heart flutter. He's practiced a smile in the mirror before; no teeth, nonchalantly suggestive. Instead, he watches for the flex of muscle that suggests movement in the other man, suggests he might get caught, and dutifully averts his gaze. When the man downs the last of his beer and leaves, Vince sighs, chin resting on his hand. That could have been an almost, he thinks.

Bo comes back, without the girl, after about 20 minutes. The flush on his face is cooling down, but he's still tucking his t-shirt back into his jeans by the time he arrives back at the stool next to Vince's.

"Where's your 'friend'?"

"She has places to be."

Vincent grunts, turning away to get a new smoke from the packet between them on the bar.

Bo nudges his twin, making him look back at him. "Don't be jealous. You're too good for a girl like that, anyway."

Vincent knows that isn't exactly true. He thinks, at this point, he'd take just about anyone who would have him.

#vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #house of wax 2005 #slashers #slasher fandom #ahhh i'm back on my usual bullshit #is this me going through some personal stuff and projecting it onto the twins as usual? definitely #i put vince through the ringer i'm so sorry #i want to clarify that i do in fact think vincent could have had v good game when he was at art school #but also the impact of never having a playground wedding is real af and i needed someone to feel that with me #vince is the lamb at the sacrificial alter of unwantedness #even though i promise y'all i want him very badly #and where i give vince no game; i give bo too much game #no way is bo 'bongwater' sinclair getting that many dates #but also. the contrast is important #when you have a direct comparision and you're doing 'worse' idk cant be great #idk this is all very complex and just one side of my opinions/reading of this whole situation for the twins #and don't forget friends !! this is totally me projecting so if you have a problem with vincent not getting any #take it up with god because he's the one that made *me* like this #ngl i'm really. really proud of this fic tbh 😊#i really hope yall enjoy #it feels more.. idk more like what i was trying to get back too #also if you saw the version i posted on ao3 before re-editing.. no you didnt #ahhh also also !!#the smpking inspiration for vince absolutely comes from solivagant-muse !!#sol's college twins sketches were so gorgeous and havent left mu mind since #this city's cold and empty

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ellsbclls · 3 years ago

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oh !!! uhm, 🥺💓💗😳😐 wow this'll be ??? confusing ??? but ofc peter or tom and reader <33 (you're so amazing omg - that peter blurb was just astounding !!!)

this... got a little sad in the middle, but is pretty cute nonetheless. thank you for making my heart go splat on the pavement over this

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, injuries, burns, and hospitals.

send me the last 5 emojis you used and 2 characters and I’ll try to write a very short shit-story inspired by those (something like a few sentences long or just a short conversation)

"Oh, my poor baby." You cooed, dotingly sweeping damp, chestnut tendrils from his forehead. He hummed lowly in response, chasing your hand as it retreated from the sweat-slick expanse.

Christine had called you no second sooner than it happened — a small mishap in the midst of production sent Tom grappling for his harness during a particularly intricate stunt. Panic seized your every thought from that point forward, his reassurances from that very morning bouncing off your skull like a cruel schoolyard taunt, reminding you that "I’m Spider-Man!" and "This is child's play compared to Far From Home!"

Child's play your ass.

He would never understand how fortune favored, constantly dangling him over the edge before reeling him back to safety, and each incident made him more careless. Sloppier. It aggravated you, how he could wager his safety with such ease, summoning not only irritation but an evergrowing chasm of love, prone to love him more with each of his little details you discover.

Seeing as the tabloids had yet to sink their talons into the prospective headline, you suspected nothing more than a couple of cuts and bruises.

You were not prepared for the gash that decorated the plane of his left shoulder blade, an angry, crimson smile marring what was once smooth, sun-kissed skin. The engraving mapped out his accident in vivid detail, so it wasn't hard to imagine the depth of his fall.

Flittering across the slope of his shoulder, you made light work of his soiled gauze, digits carefully peeling the tape from his skin. At least the set nurse had sorted most of the damage, leaving you with nothing more than routine clean up every 8 hours or so.

The two of you were remarkably close for people with wildly opposite career paths — Tom and his routine injuries was the golden string of fate that tethered you together.

“You know,” his tone wreaked of impending bullshit, failing to shock you once it was uttered. “This still isn’t as bad as Far From Home.”

Linoleum tile that trailed up the burn unit’s spacious halls, fluorescent lights bouncing off their ivory reflections with a blinding vengeance, and an odor so sterile that it splashed against your chest like acid reflux — the memory curdled each time you revisited it, somehow smudging the line between reality and delusion with each passing day.

You remember how sleep ambushed you in the wee hours of that night, but not before you tested the limits of your imagination, rifling through a curated supercut of the worst possible outcomes imaginable. For hours. You were so tired that the doctor had to prod you awake with the back of his pencil, and even amidst your drowsy daze, your breath still hitched at the mention of pyrotechnics, and how fortunate your boyfriend was to be on the more forgiving end of the flames.

You remembered the dismal glint in his eyes each time he looked down at the length of his arms, glistening with topical creams and singed with fat, gnarled stripes. You swear that it sneaks up once in a while, when he thinks you’re not looking, projecting the memory of his damaged limbs after years of successful recovery.

Somehow, you weren’t able to recall the memory as endearingly as him, and you coughed up a dry laugh in response.

But he was right.

You wouldn’t dare imagine how much worse this could have been. So you don’t — opting to channel all of your concern into the hesitant swipes of alcohol you pressed against his injury, recoiling with each pained hiss that followed. “I know. I know, my love. I’m almost done.” You winced at the way the pad returned heavier with each pass, saturated with more and more crimson residue. “I’ve got a lot of surface area to work with.”

“Are you gonna kiss it better, when it's all cleaned up?” He teased, glancing over his shoulder to gauge your reaction.

“You couldn’t pay me to kiss this, Tom.” Scrunching your nose at the very thought, you scrapped the alcohol wipe in lieu of the medicated cream, something thick and wreaking of menthol that his nurse promised would help.

“Wow,” he sucked his teeth, letting sarcasm drip from his playful quip. “I guess I failed to realize you don’t love me anymore.”

"You're something else," You managed between laughs. Despite your overwhelming compassion, temptation hissed just below your ear, with a cloying proposal that only required the back of your hand and his vulnerable gash. Somewhere between the wicked thought and the action itself, your hand shifted to the spot beside it, swatting his shoulder with a high pitched shriek from his lips. Your laughter only intensified, digits curling around his bicep to keep yourself from doubling over. "Don't move an inch, I'm just gonna grab some more gauze."

Rising to your feet, you playfully bump your hip against his side and set your sights on the bag of first-aid supplies unfurled on your kitchen counter, but you're brought to a sudden halt as his fingers curl around the curve of your wrist, pulling you back into his lap.

In search of his caramel hues, your incredulous gaze is hampered by his own, reverent stare. There's something warm in those honey-dipped hues, kindling with embers of an emotion you can't quite put your finger on, but inviting nonetheless. His hand reaches up to cradle the side of your face, thumb climbing the high planes of your cheek, and with an unwavering timbre he confesses, "Thank you... for taking care of me."

"It's no biggie," You somehow manage to choke out, lungs seized in a stronghold only his affections could enact. It was miraculous that you could even form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. "I'll take care of you as long as you let me."

Your words coax a love-lorn simper from the corner of his lip, canine's digging into the swell of his lower lip. "It's definitely a biggie, Y/N." his voice lilts at your own words, enamored by your modesty. "No one's ever made me feel as good as you do, and I just want you to know that I appreciate it. From the bottom of my heart."

The mere mention of it prompts you to trace the fabric right above his beating appendage, finding solace in the way it thumps against your palm. His heart, yours to lay claim, as simply as yours belongs to him. You attempt to shy away from the very thought by nuzzling into his palm. "Well, then, it appears that a raise is in order. What, for all my hard work?" You try to lighten the air with an attempt at humor, one you tack onto by tapping your finger against your unoccupied cheek, silently requesting a kiss.

Though, he's three steps ahead of you — sandwiching your face between two sturdy palms, he pulls you up to press a lingering kiss to yours. It's indulgent, and warm, and heavy with a floodgate of love and gratitude that he couldn't possibly put into words. He was an actor, after all, not an author.

You lose yourself in the dizzying trist, encircling your own fingers around his forearms, until you remembered your goal prior. It was nearly impossible, tearing yourself away, but admittedly for the greater good. "Let me finish patching you up. Then I'll kiss it better."

#tom holland blurb #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader blurb #djsbfjhdbfsdjkgbhdksjbghjkdsg i honestly couldn't bring myself to use the actual cherry incident #bc my heart is not strong enough to watch that one interview again #he loOKED SO GOOD #mine*

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paladin-lynx · 4 years ago

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SquipJere Week 2020, Day 6: Sexy Anime Cat Girl With a Tail

@squipjerebmc’s SquipJere Week 2020 Day 6: Sexy Anime Cat Girl With a Tail

Ships Involved: The SQUIP x Jeremy Heere (Technical Difficulties/Squipemy/Squeremy/JereSquip/SquipJere)

Setting: Canonverse, set in the time interval between “Loser Geek Whatever” and “Halloween”.

Trigger/Content Warnings: non-graphic mentions of masturbation; sexual situations and implications but no graphic depictions of sex; anthropomorphic/furry characters; tail kink; kissing; grinding; groping

Author’s Notes: Am I posting this weeks after the event already ended? Maybe. I ended up starting this piece when SquipJere Week was still happening before I fell out of my groove, so hopefully I managed to pick up where I left off well enough. This one’s a little spicier than the others, as you can probably tell from the warnings, hehe. Enjoy!

The SQUIP had been working long and hard to condition Jeremy to not think about sex nearly as often as he used to, and the fact that it seemed to be successful thus far in its efforts was nothing short of amazing. Jeremy had gone from feeling the need to jerk off every morning like clockwork to actually being able to get through an entire day without thinking about something lewd. The only time he ever got a pass was when he was with Brooke, but he hadn’t been seeing her much outside of school lately. She was just a stepping stone to get to Christine anyway, and while she was attractive and sweet, Jeremy wasn’t really all that into her. And that made him feel bad about using her as some kind of practice dummy.

“She’s used to it,” the SQUIP would say while squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “She’ll move on to someone else quickly enough. You don’t have to be concerned about hurting her.”

That didn’t really make Jeremy feel much better, but he had always been someone who worried constantly about what others thought of him or how they felt about things he’d done. It was a big part of why he’d gotten the SQUIP in the first place – no one would ever see him as anything more than the awkward cardigan-wearing loser who spent all his time playing video games and getting high in his only friend’s basement. Michael had always been perfectly content to march to the beat of his own drum and didn’t seem to really care about anyone’s opinions of him, and he seemed to just assume Jeremy felt the same.

But Jeremy yearned to be somebody. He didn’t want to just survive every day and wait for the next day to be exactly the same. He wanted to live and have a life.

And so the SQUIP helped him to thrive in all areas. He dressed better, he walked more confidently, he was doing well in school and in the drama club. He was getting closer every day to all the cool kids and Brooke seemed completely enamored with him.

Of course, he was still a teenage boy. And teenage boys had urges. And while Jeremy could rein in those urges when he was awake and alert, that most definitely wasn’t the case when he was asleep.

He hadn’t been thinking about anything particularly sexy in nature before going to bed – at least, he was pretty sure he hadn’t, or else the SQUIP definitely would’ve had something to say about it – but that didn’t seem to matter. The dream had started out simple enough. It was almost boring, really. He was lounging on his bed, playing around on his phone, with the SQUIP laying beside him and watching quietly. The SQUIP as of late had been indulging itself more in the simple pleasures of human life and seemed content to observe Jeremy just existing rather than criticizing his every thought and action. Ever since it had realized it may be able to feel and Jeremy had assured it that he did really like having it around, it had taken to merely being near him when things were calm.

But all too quickly, the dream shifted away from the PG. The SQUIP smirked and reached over to take his phone – something that dream logic apparently decided was a thing that the SQUIP could actually do – to set it aside, and then didn’t hesitate to climb on top of him and straddle his waist. The SQUIP felt surprisingly more solid than normal, and while it was normally a bit cold to the touch, it actually felt rather warm now, like it was flesh and blood and not just a projection from Jeremy’s mind.

There was soon a hungry mouth on his and they were kissing, Jeremy wrapping his arms around the SQUIP and curling his fingers into the back of its cloak. However, when he pulled back, he realized the face looking at him was not that of Keanu Reeves, but instead a rather well-endowed girl with big, unmistakably anime-styled eyes, shining an ever familiar bright blue. She had long flowing black hair and atop her head proudly sat a pair of cat ears, and the cloak Jeremy had been holding onto was replaced with a rather short dress covered in a circuitry pattern. And Jeremy was pretty sure he could see a long black tail waving behind her.

Jeremy gawked for a moment but he did seem to have enough brain power to comprehend that this was still his SQUIP – he remembered way back when it had said one of its potential forms for him was that ‘sexy anime cat girl with a tail’ – and that seemed to be all the go-ahead the SQUIP needed to dive back in and kiss him again. Jeremy felt like there was fire under his skin as he kissed back, one hand shifting down to toy with the SQUIP’s new tail, causing it to mewl into his mouth. And of course that only spurred Jeremy on more.

The dream only escalated from there. Clothes disappeared at some point and the SQUIP’s mouth was everywhere on him, skilled and teasing. Given that the SQUIP was in Jeremy’s mind, it of course knew all the right ways to get him to writhe and moan. It could have only been a few seconds or it could have very well been hours when the SQUIP finally climbed back into his lap, a grin on those feline lips, and sank down onto him.

Jeremy woke up choking out a gasp, gripping his sheets and realizing rather quickly that both them and he were drenched in sweat. He had to take a moment to catch his breath, feeling as though he had just run a mile, and when he noticed that his pajama pants were feeling rather sticky, he quickly realized what had happened.

“Oh my God…” he mumbled, rubbing his hands over his face before pushing back the hair slicked to his forehead.

“I see you had quite the dream.”

Jeremy yelped at the sudden voice, scrambling to sit up and ending up tangled in the blankets for a moment. He stared with wide eyes at the SQUIP – in its usual form, thankfully – sitting in his desk chair, glowing that gentle blue against the darkness of the room. It was the middle of the night, judging by the fact that it was still dark outside, as well. The SQUIP was grinning slightly at him, looking thoroughly amused.

Jeremy just blinked dumbly at it for a moment, his mouth dry. “D…did you do that?”

“Oh goodness, no, Jeremy. I may be inside your brain, but the subconscious is not a realm that I can delve into. It’s much too complex and I wouldn’t want to potentially damage your mind by interfering with it.”

“But…you still saw it?”

The SQUIP hummed. “Bits and pieces. And, well, clearly you have a pretty vivid memory of it, so…” Its grin widened a fraction. “I can see it all now as you think about it.”

Jeremy’s entire face burned and he quickly tried to put the dream out of his mind, although he knew how this worked – now that he was actively trying not to think about it, it would result in him just thinking about it more whether he wanted to or not.

“Are you gonna shock me or make me do push-ups?” he asked warily.

The SQUIP tilted its head to one side, gaze sweeping up and down Jeremy’s body in a way that made him swallow a lump in his throat.

“…I’ll let it slide this time,” it murmured, chuckling. It smiled at him again, waving a hand dismissively. “Change out of those clothes. You’ve soiled them.”

Face still feeling hot, Jeremy slid out of bed and went to grab a fresh pair of pajamas, trying to ignore how he could feel the SQUIP’s eyes still on him. He did take a moment to grab some tissues and clean himself up and soon enough he was changed, although he frowned as he looked back at the bed and realized his sheets were still soaked. He didn’t like making the bed on a normal day, let alone in the dead of night. He could probably just deal with it, or sleep on the couch, although the latter option would raise some questions from his dad in the morning – if he cared enough to be inquisitive, anyway.

“Whatever,” he sighed, pulling the blankets up so they covered the dampened sheets and he could lay on top of them. He shifted so he could flip his pillow over, as well, humming contently at the cooler side pressed against his cheek and closing his eyes. Everything was peaceful.

“Jeremy…”

His eyes shot back open when the SQUIP’s voice came out much higher-pitched and sing-songy than normal. He was about to sit up when he felt himself pressed back onto the bed, weight pushing against his shoulders and waist. The SQUIP suddenly appeared atop him, grinning wickedly as it took the form of the very same cat girl he’d seen in his dream. The only difference now was that its touch was cool against his skin rather than warm.

“L-Ly?” he managed, blinking up at his SQUIP with wide eyes. “Wh…what are you doing?”

It chuckled – more like purred, honestly – and leaned in close. “You keep telling me to find things that I enjoy,” it murmured, tail flicking in amusement. “And I’ve come to conclude that I do very much enjoy seeing you all flustered like this. Do you like this form of mine, Jeremy? We both know about your attraction to anthropomorphic characters and…well, I believe you also have an affinity for tails, right?”

Jeremy tried to say something, to retort, but he just ended up letting out a rather pathetic squeak because of course the SQUIP was right. Michael teased him all the time – lovingly, of course – for being a furry, and he was never going to let Jeremy live down that one time he’d accidentally admitted that he thought Thalia would look cute with a tail.

But the SQUIP had worked so tirelessly to keep Jeremy from doing anything that would incite sexual thoughts, and yet here it was, seducing him. Was it seducing him? Jeremy wasn’t completely sure he was actually awake yet, to be honest.

But even if the SQUIP wasn’t nearly as warm as it’d felt in Jeremy’s dream, this did feel much more real in a way he couldn’t quite figure out. Maybe it was simply because he was, in fact, no longer dreaming and his brain could better process the situation – although he definitely still felt like he was at a loss.

“I…” was all that fell from his lips when he tried to speak again.

The SQUIP grinned, eyes bright with amusement and mischief, and it closed the gap between them. The feeling of the SQUIP kissing him was tingly and, dare he say, electrifying. It wasn’t like kissing Brooke, which was all warm and wet and messy. Even while insistent, every move the SQUIP made was precisely calculated and its lips were still cool against his, firing off all the right nerves to make it feel like there was something actually there.

It was so obvious to Jeremy that he was kissing nothing more than a glorified figment of his imagination, like this was just another fantasy. But he didn’t care. He liked it. His chest bloomed with warmth and his stomach was doing somersaults, and he couldn’t help letting out a soft whine against the SQUIP’s mouth. He wasn’t entirely sure why the SQUIP was doing this or if this was all some elaborate trick, but he threw caution to the wind and gripped onto the back of that dress like he had in his dream, pulling the SQUIP more against him. Their chests brushed and the SQUIP’s hips slid against his in a way that made Jeremy arch up with a gasp, and the SQUIP didn’t hesitate to take the opportunity to slide its tongue into Jeremy’s mouth. It was a little weird since it wasn’t wet and gross like a human tongue would be – Frenching was still something Jeremy was getting used to when it came to Brooke – but he could taste the SQUIP all the same.

It eventually pulled back and Jeremy sucked in a breath, having apparently forgotten that oxygen was a thing that he needed. The SQUIP looked entirely unfazed, still sitting triumphantly atop him with that wide grin. Jeremy’s chest heaved, his body growing warmer, and while he still wasn’t sure if this was some weird test, he gave in to his desire and tugged the SQUIP down again, kissing it once more. He felt the vibration of a chuckle against his mouth and for a moment Jeremy thought the SQUIP might just stop and leave him yearning, but then it was kissing back with just as much hunger.

Whining again, Jeremy let his hands drift down. He could feel the soft, silky fabric of the SQUIP’s dress as if it were really there, although there was a slight buzz at his fingertips, as if he was touching active wires. No one else would ever feel like the SQUIP, and that sent an odd sort of thrill through Jeremy. He couldn’t help wondering, in the back of his mind, if some people got SQUIPs for things like this. After all, if something was inside your brain, it knew exactly how to make you feel good, right? Although he supposed there were probably some drawbacks to SQUIPs only being able to project a holographic form. It wasn’t an actual, physical body like an android or something would have.

But those thoughts were hardly present in Jeremy’s mind as he lost himself in the moment. The SQUIP’s hips gave another teasing little roll that had Jeremy whimpering and on a whim he let his hands slip down to the SQUIP’s ass, wanting to pull on its tail.

So he had a kink. Sue him.

However, as he felt around, kneading at the soft skin, his brow furrowed when his fingers never found a tail. He pulled out of the kiss and opened his eyes, squeaking and turning bright red when he realized he was no longer looking that cute cat girl in the face, but instead a familiar Keanu Reeves lookalike.

The SQUIP, naturally, was still smirking like it was having the time of its life. “Problem, dear?”

“Y-you…” Jeremy tried, but he had no retort. He would’ve thought that the want – the need, nearly – to have the SQUIP close, kissing and touching it, would instantly fade away upon seeing the SQUIP’s usual form. After all, Jeremy saw it all the time and while it was an attractive face, it wasn’t one that Jeremy had thought about kissing – okay, well, maybe a couple of times, but that was just because his mind liked to imagine most things in a sexual way, horny teenage boy that he was. The cat girl had made him feel so many things and he hadn’t been able to help himself.

However, to his surprise, he found that even looking at this face he’d been seeing every day, 24/7, for the past few months, the urge to be close wasn’t going away.

“I…” he mumbled, suddenly feeling very small, his hands hurriedly falling from the SQUIP’s back where they’d been lingering. He shouldn’t be feeling this. He shouldn’t have felt it before even with the SQUIP’s rather sexy new form, but he definitely shouldn’t be feeling it now.

The SQUIP definitely sensed his hesitation and seemed to soften up a bit. Jeremy swallowed the lump in his throat as he felt a wave of calm wash over his mind and he sighed quietly, his muscles relaxing against the bed beneath him.

“There you go, love,” it cooed and, after giving Jeremy a moment to process, it leaned down to press their lips together again. This time it was gentler, more a brush against his mouth than a kiss proper, and Jeremy felt the weight against his waist lift slightly. Jeremy just lay there for a moment as the SQUIP kissed him before his eyes fluttered shut and he almost shyly kissed back, like it was his first time.

It only lasted a few seconds and then the SQUIP pulled back, shifting to move off of Jeremy and lay beside him on the bed. It gently ran a hand up Jeremy’s arm, and Jeremy felt the hairs there rise up at the cool, slightly static-y touch. “Are you alright?” it asked.

Jeremy blinked and ended up coughing out a laugh. “You’re asking that now?”

It frowned, eyebrows furrowing. It tilted its head slightly – analyzing, calculating, predicting. “…I apologize,” it murmured, still tracing along Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy almost wondered if it was fidgeting like that. “I suppose I got an…impulse and I got carried away with it. I shouldn’t have pinned you down. And I shouldn’t have kissed you or moved against you like that. It was highly inappropriate.”

Jeremy just stared. The SQUIP had definitely been acting more and more like a human lately as it explored what it wanted outside of just being Jeremy’s coach, but never had it sounded so ashamed, like it truly thought it had done something wrong. Jeremy’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise and he scrambled for something to say.

“I…I mean…” he started. “You…would’ve known if I didn’t want it, right? You’re in my brain. You…knew I was enjoying it.”

“I believe most would call that ‘taking advantage’ of you, Jeremy.”

“I could’ve told you to stop. Even if my mouth was, er, preoccupied, I could’ve thought at you.”

“Would you have done that, though?”

That had Jeremy faltering and he had to consider it. And he realized he wasn’t sure. Even if he had been uncomfortable, he’d been so overwhelmed by all the sensations the SQUIP was making him feel that he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to properly convey that he didn’t want it. And even if he could’ve, he might’ve ended up being too afraid of the SQUIP’s disapproval that he wouldn’t have said anything at all and just let it happen.

The SQUIP, of course, could hear all of his thoughts on the matter and huffed softly. “Exactly.”

Jeremy’s brow creased. “You’re acting like I’m mad at you.”

“You should be.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m…confused, really, more than anything else.”

The SQUIP sighed. “I would imagine so.” It paused, processing once again. “…I’m honestly not…entirely sure why I did that. Like I said, it was an impulse.”

Jeremy raised an eyebrow. “But you always run predictions and stuff. You had to of seen what would come after if you acted like that. Was this…all because of my dream? Did it like, mess with your code or something because I dreamed about you?”

“You’ve dreamt about me before, Jeremy, that isn’t how this works,” the SQUIP scoffed, and Jeremy was glad that it was at least well enough to criticize his lack of knowledge about supercomputer pills. “…I suppose I wanted to tease you a little, as it were, about this particular dream, but that was all. I had only planned on changing my form for a brief moment, but once I was on top of you…” It trailed off and Jeremy felt a buzz at the back of his head that he was already learning to recognize as the SQUIP’s version of being flustered.

“…Yeah?” he prompted.

Its form flickered for a moment. “…Nothing else mattered,” it murmured. “Of course I saw the plausible futures. Of course I knew what a bad idea it was. But…I didn’t care.” Its expression twisted in frustration. “Why didn’t I care…? Am I defective?”

Jeremy wished he could answer, but he truly didn’t know. However, he’d learned a fair bit about the SQUIP in these last few weeks. Maybe he still didn’t completely understand how its programming worked, but he knew what he saw and he could sometimes feel things through their connection, even if it was difficult to discern exactly what it was he was feeling. And while Jeremy had never been the best at puzzles, he could still recognize patterns when he saw them. There were sensations he’d feel when the SQUIP seemed happier than usual, and on the opposite end of the spectrum there were things he’d feel when it was particularly agitated.

So, he had a theory. “Maybe you wanted it.”

The SQUIP blinked at him before tutting. “I’m a mach—”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a machine, you don’t feel, you don’t ‘experience emotions’ like I do. You’ve told me that a gazillion times, but I’m starting to think it’s just bullshit.”

Jeremy almost laughed at how scandalized the SQUIP looked. “Excuse me?”

He sighed. “You obviously feel things, Ly. You sing because you think it’s fun. You get annoyed when you find stupid bugs in the video games you run around in. You like to poke fun at me and call me things like ‘love’ and ‘dear’ because you think my reactions are funny. So…so maybe you wanted to kiss me because, I don’t know, you thought you’d like it?”

The SQUIP’s gaze swiveled back down and Jeremy once again felt that buzz as it considered his words.

“…Did you like it?” Jeremy asked after he didn’t get an answer for a bit. It had definitely seemed like the SQUIP had enjoyed itself, acting like it owned him, but then again, the SQUIP also did things to experiment and test results, so it could have just continued on to see what would happen.

“…I did,” it finally said, whispering so quietly Jeremy almost swore he misheard it.

The buzzing at the back of his head was growing more insistent and Jeremy could tell that the SQUIP was trying to make sense of this entire situation. It was strange, because Jeremy figured that by now the SQUIP would’ve come to accept that its A.I. had evolved to the point where it could actually experience things similar to how a human could, since they’d had so many conversations like this before, but it seemed that it still had its limits on what it deemed acceptable. And while his SQUIP definitely had its quirks, Jeremy doubted that there was anything inherently wrong with it. After all, it scanned itself regularly for problems in its software, so it wasn’t that – unless something had slipped under the radar, but Jeremy doubted that, too.

Deciding to take initiative for once in his life – although he supposed he had the SQUIP to thank for that, with all its work to boost his confidence – he gently put a hand on the SQUIP’s cheek, turning its face to him. He was a little surprised that it actually worked, considering that he had no real control over the projection, but the SQUIP still blinked at him.

“Remember what you said, that you just acted without thinking about the consequences?” he asked. “We’ll worry about all this later, just…for now, go back to that. Do what you want to. Don’t think about what it all means.”

The SQUIP looked like it wanted to protest for a heartbeat but then its expression softened and it nodded, leaning in and kissing Jeremy again.

Jeremy, of course, gently pulled the SQUIP closer against him, glad when he could feel the press of its form against his chest. They both knew that this probably wasn’t wise of them and they’d have to really look more into it when they had the chance, but for now, Jeremy was content to focus on how nice the SQUIP’s lips felt on his and how good it felt to have those cool, strong hands on him.

And from the static against his mouth and the warmth in the back of his mind, he was pretty sure the SQUIP was okay with that, too.

#SquipJere Week 2020 #lynx tales #mine #writing #Be More Chill #BMC Jeremy Heere #BMC SQUIP #Technical Difficulties #Squipemy #Squeremy #JereSquip #SquipJere #Jeremy Heere #SQUIP #would you believe that going into the event this was actually the only day i had an actual plan for? lol #hopefully it turned out okay i feel like stopping partway through left it a bit all over the place #BMC #fic #fanfiction

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lostinphases · 4 years ago

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Book Review: Tarot Shadow Work

Title: Tarot Shadow Work

Author: Christine Jette

Review: ★☆☆☆☆

This review is probably going to be short because I was just so underwhelmed by this book.

While I am not a practitioner of shadow work, I am interested in the theory behind it and the potential for incorporating it into my practice at some point when I’m more informed about the ways it works. That being said, when I read about shadow work and the work and theories of Carl Jung in relation to witchcraft, I am almost always encouraged by the material to continue to read and learn about it. With Tarot Shadow Work I was not.

Christine Jette spends a lot of the book projecting her personal experiences onto the material which is fine, but her views taint the method quite a lot. This book was published in 2000, and it has not aged well, carrying with it problematic views about “fixing” yourself, gender, and mental illness. This clouds the intentions of shadow work, and I often felt, reading the book, that the projections affected the way she constructed exercises and reasons for doing the work in general.

With the exercises, Jette’s work could be adapted as pretty useful journal prompts, but the overall structure of the book’s exercises is based around a series of star layouts that Jette has constructed, though she never explains what the significance of the star shape is in the working and eventually deconstructs it by directing her reader to place cards in whatever way they feel is best. She also ends this series of layouts with a heavy focus on hope despite claiming that hope is useless earlier in the book.

Overall, Tarot Shadow Work might be a beginner resource for shadow work. The bibliography might even be worth digging through, and as the book is out of print, at least you won’t have to pay for it (PDFs are easy to find online) to look at it for yourself, but I think you might be better off just hunting down resources online if this is a subject you want to explore because neither her understanding of tarot or her explanations of shadow work are terribly compelling.

#book #bookblr #book review #book reviews #tarot #shadow work #tarot shadow work #Christine Jette #witchblr #witchcraft #review #reviews #magic #tarotblr

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robinrunsfiction · 5 years ago

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The Lonely Road

Pairing: Gerard Way x Female Reader

Rating: Teen (for online harassment)

Requested By: None

Word Count: 2,400

Author’s Note: Inspired by the song Outnumbered by Dermot Kennedy, so feel free to give it a listen as you read. Originally this was gonna be a Valentine’s story, but now Valentine’s is over, and so I just took out the brief mentions of it. Also it’s a Gerard story so of course it’s longer than intended so taking parts out probably is for the better 😅 Shout out to my number one @mariawritesfanfic for helping me wrap this story up

You scrolled through your twitter feed, as hours on the tour bus left you with few other options to pass the time. Your new album had just come out and you wanted to see how people were reacting to it.

OMG @(YFN)(YLN)’s album is awesome! Everyone check it out now!

The only reason she’s famous is bc of @gerardway

The album is ok if you consider she fucked her way into stardom

I stg if mcr ever breaks up it’s gonna be (YN)'s fault

(YN) should just break up with gee so he can be with frank liek everyone knows he wants to be

You felt sick to your stomach as you read through the messages. Sure there were tweets from fans saying how much they enjoyed the album, and they love Gerard and you together, but those weren’t the ones that stuck out in your mind. It was the negative messages that caught your attention and soured your mood.

As if he was reading your thoughts, a text from Gerard appeared on your screen. “Hey sugar, congrats on the album. It’s amazing and so are you xoxo love you”

You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes at the love and kindness of his message. “Thanks love," you replied before tossing your phone aside. You pulled shut the curtain on your bunk and let the tears fall silently.

You had met Gerard at an award show. You had always been a fan of his and My Chem, but you were beyond nervous to say anything to him when you saw him across the room. When he approached you and said he actually had been listening to your music and was a fan, you thought you might transcend onto another plane of existence right then and there. You found him to be surprisingly easy to talk to and exchanged phone numbers so you could hang out sometime.

Hanging out sometime turned into hanging out often. Then one night under the stars in his backyard, your casual hanging out turned into sharing your thoughts, hopes, and fears you'd never voiced to anyone. The next day you were worried you'd never see or hear from him again, having revealed too much of your emotional baggage too soon, but that afternoon he called and asked you out on a real date. The date was perfect for two people like you and Gerard, complete with a tender, careful kiss that took your breath away. In an instant, you were falling hard.

After that it really became you and Gerard. When all of your friends found out, they were so happy for both of you, as they could see how happy you made each other. Then one day the rest of the world figured it out as well. Gerard had come to one of your recording sessions and had snapped a picture of you laughing in the recording booth and posted it online with the caption "the most beautiful person making the most beautiful sounds ❤" The fans put it together and a barrage of messages flooded your social media feed. Some people thought it was cute, many were awful, but you let it all roll off your back as you were too in love to care what anyone thought.

Months passed, and now that album was out. You had hoped Gerard would be able to join you on the road, but My Chem was in the studio themselves so he wasn't able to be there. You understood, but being away from him for the first time, while dealing with the stress of releasing an album, your first tour, and his angry fans, it was almost getting to be too much.

You had finally fallen asleep only to be awakened what felt like moments later by your manager Christine's voice.

"Rise and shine rock star, time to charm the lovely people of," she paused and you could hear her flipping through papers, "Fort Wayne, Indiana."

You sighed. You had wanted this for so long, it had been your dream for years. But now you were questioning everything.

"We're joined in studio by (YFN) (YLN), her new album just came out last week and we are loving it here on 106.7 FM," the overly cheerful radio host announced. “You have a lot of fans here in Madison!”

"Thank you," you replied with a tired smile. You hoped your lack of energy wasn't evident by your voice.

"Tell us, how much of an influence was your boyfriend? And for anyone who hasn't heard, (YN) is dating that oh so sexy MCR frontman, Gerard Way."

You had gotten this question at almost every interview, as if you were incapable of creating your own music. "He was there for some of the recording sessions, but a lot of the album was written before we met, so not a huge influence musically."

"What's it like to date someone so famous?"

"I mean, it's not like a topic of conversation for us," you replied sharply. You glanced up and saw the look Christine was giving you. "I mean, we talk about music and our projects and give each other feedback, but that's pretty much it. We're pretty normal weirdos."

After the interview was over and you played a few songs live, and then reboarded the bus.

"What the fuck was that?" Christine asked as the bus rolled down the road.

"What the fuck is with these interviews? It's never about me and my music. It's about Gee or the people on the internet and all the bullshit! That's not why I'm out here! I want to talk about my songs!"

Christine nodded. "Ok, I'm sorry girl. You're right. I'll make sure the next one we keep it focused on the music. We can't have you blowing up on another host."

"I didn't blow up! I snapped at worst," you retorted, rolling your eyes.

"Either way, we're on our way to Iowa now."

"Can't wait," you muttered and crawled into your bunk.

The dark cloud that had settled over you was not going away or getting better. While Christine was doing a better job of reminding the interviewers beforehand to lay off the relationship questions, they still came up, sometimes after the actual interview was over, sometimes they just disregarded your wishes all together to get juicy gossip. You did your best not to appear annoyed, but the longer you were away from Gerard, the harder it got.

She's an ugly, untalented leech! She doesn't love gee or else she would have put a song about him on the album!

He doesnt seem happy like he used to before her

The album jsut sucks. I mean i didnt listen to it, i just assume it does

She should just die

You couldn't take it any longer. The constant, incessant stream of hate coming at you was too much. You dialed Gerard and went into the back of the bus, shutting the door behind you.

"Hey (YN), how is everything goin?"

"I can't do it anymore Gee," you said, trying to keep your voice steady

"Do what?" He asked, immediately concerned.

"Tour, be a musician, be someone in the public eye, I can't take it!" You sobbed, unable to control your emotions any longer. "I feel like I have no privacy anymore! Everything I do is wrong, everything I don't do is wrong! I just wanna give up! I don't wanna do this anymore!"

"Hey, hey, sugar, it's ok. Did someone say something to you today?"

"It's been every fucking day," you cried. "I wanna come home, I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't want anyone to know who I am anymore."

"Take a deep breath," Gerard said, trying to keep you calm. "Where are you?"

"On the bus."

"Where are you going, or where were you?"

"I don't even know anymore. All I see is fucking corn everywhere."

"Ok, umm, where is Christine?"

"In her bunk," you sniffled.

"Can I talk to her?"

You got up and made your way to the bunks and knocked on the frame surrounding Christine's.

"Yea?" She asked, opening the curtain. "Woah, girl, what's wrong?"

"Gee wants to talk to you," you said holding out your phone.

"Hello? What's going on?" Christine asked Gerard. She listened and nodded and mm hmm'ed along. "She seemed stressed, but not that bad," she said as she watched you sink wearily to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. "No, I hadn’t heard that… Yea, we're setting out from Omaha now, on our way to Denver," she paused. "Ok... Yea... Sounds good. Yea, we'll get our girl through this."

You looked up at her from your spot on the floor and she smiled down sympathetically and handed the phone back to you.

"Gee?" You said softly, the anger and fear and frustration having quieted.

"Hey sugar, we've got a plan for you, you're gonna be ok. But where are you hearing from the people that are criticizing you?"

"Twitter," you mumbled and you heard Christine mutter "I knew it."

"Delete it, you don't need that in your life. You're too talented and beautiful and wonderful to let anyone make you feel anything less," he said gently. "I love you, (YN) ."

"Love you too," you replied, a smile finally cracking through.

"Get some rest, we'll talk soon."

You had immediately crawled into your bunk and fallen into a deep sleep. The weight of your thoughts no longer weighing you down now that you had shared them with Gerard. When you finally woke up, you were rolling into Denver. You made your way to the front of the bus to find Christine on her phone.

"What's on the schedule today?" You yawned.

"Nothing."

"What?"

"You need a day off. We've been pushing you way too hard, and I just wish I would have realized it sooner. So we moved your interview to tomorrow afternoon and we're staying here overnight."

"Really?" You asked, stunned.

"Yep, we're going to the hotel right now."

It was incredibly refreshing to be in a hotel with a real bed and shower, and everyone was actually thankful for your meltdown that got them this break.

You took an extra long, hot shower to allow your muscles to relax, and then crawled into bed to call Gerard and give him an update. As his phone rang you heard a knock on your door. Keeping your ear to your phone in case he picked up you answered the door.

"Gerard!" You squealed as you launched yourself at him and he wrapped you in his arms.

"I missed you so much (YN)," he murmured against your neck. "I couldn't stand to hear the pain in your voice and not be there to make it better.”

"But you hate flying! And your studio time!" You exclaimed as you pulled him into your room and he dropped his bag on the floor.

“We were spinning our wheels and needed a break from recording,” he smiled reassuringly before he leaned in and kissed you with all the longing that had built up over the weeks apart. You ran your hands through his black hair and felt the tears slip down your cheeks. “And I’d fly to the moon if it meant I could spend a minute with you. I just wish I could have been here for you from the beginning, I wish I realized that you were struggling.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me. I thought I could handle it, but everything kept chipping away at me until I broke down completely.”

“I wanna worry about you, (YN). You’re my girl and I love you, and I wanna be there for you no matter what,” he said softly, wiping away the tears on your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you replied. “It’s just hard when it’s coming at you from every direction.”

“I know,” he said, pulling you back to him in a tight hug. “But for today it’s just you and me. No one else matters.”

You smiled up at him before pulling him into another sweet kiss.

The next morning you woke up with Gerard’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close. It almost felt too good to be true. As he slowly started to wake up, he gave you his lopsided smile and you couldn’t help but grin in return.

“I needed this so much,” you said as you buried your face against his neck.

“I did too,” he said squeezing you tight, his voice still raspy with sleep.

“Thank you for being here. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he said leaning down to give you a quick kiss. “Wait, I didn’t give you your presents yet.”

“What presents?” You asked sitting up, as he reached over the side of the bed to grab his bag. "I don’t have anything for you!"

"It's nothing, just a couple things I made for you," he said pulling out a large flat envelope and handing it to you.

You carefully pulled out the drawing that was inside. "Oh it's beautiful!”

"It's us the night we watched the stars and talked for hours. That was the night I realized I was falling in love with you. I was so scared you wouldn't even like me like that," he laughed softly.

"It's perfect," you replied. "What's this? ‘Gee+(YN)=gross, a big sappy love mix’" you laughed at scribbled handwriting on the cover of the cd case. Around the words was a big heart and lots of little hearts.

"It’s a mix of songs that remind me of you, and me and you, but Frank decorated the cover. He doesn't really think we're gross, he's just-"

"Frank," you laugh.

"Exactly," Gerard replied. "I was just hoping this would help you get through the last days of your tour."

"It will," you smiled and threw your arms around him. “I think just having you here for a day was enough to get me through. And I know now that I shouldn’t just bottle up what I’m feeling.”

Gerard nodded. “We’re a team, you and me. Let me help you when you’re down and keep you safe from all the bastards and shit talkers.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled as you leaned in and kissed him. “But only if you promise to let me help you do the same.”

“I promise.”

#gerard way x reader #gerard way fan fic #gerard way fan fiction #gerard way imagine #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #tw: online harassment #tw: bullying

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cristalconnors · 5 years ago

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BEST SONGS of 2019

20. “MOTIVATION”- Normani

“Why would we ever do something instead of falling into the bed right now?”

Watching the 2019 VMAs, it was easy to feel despondent about the current state of mainstream pop. And then Normani descended from a basketball hoop, breaking up a string of lifeless performances of cookie-cutter top 40 with a preposterously physical tour de force that harkened back to an era when pop fame felt like something closer to a meritocracy, when talent mattered more than spectacle. It felt like a major arrival: at last another pop goddess that truly had all the goods. The public may not have caught up to her quite yet, but “Motivation” is a statement of purpose for Normani: I’m here, I’m very fucking talented, and I’m not going anywhere.

19. “SO HOT YOU’RE HURTING MY FEELINGS”- Caroline Polachek

“I cry on the dancefloor, it’s so embarrassing”

The charms of “So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings” are seemingly endless. First, there’s that title that makes you chuckle the first few times you hear it. Then, there’s the pre-chorus that title is effortlessly plugged into: a crystal clear image of lovelorn insecurity placed atop a sublimely simple melody that builds into a harmonious, show-stopping chorus. But the song’s zenith has got to be that bridge, marrying a mind-bending, distorted vocal solo that more closely resembles electric guitar with the singsongy refrain “show me your banana,” effortlessly striking a balance between the highbrow and the silly, casting Polachek as the carefree pop diva she perhaps always should have been.

18.“WAY TO THE SHOW”- Solange

“Candy paint down to the floor”

“I want it to bang and make your trunk rattle.” I think about that quote a lot when listening to “Way to the Show,” the grooviest track on When I Get Home- the one whose meandering funk bass line and countless key changes build to an explosion of synth runs and gun cocking, showcasing Knowles’s growth as both a songwriter and curator of mood as she crafts a singularly hallucinatory, heavenly vision of Houston and the sounds that raised her.

17. “WONDER BOY”- ARTHUR RUSSELL

“I’m a wonder boy. I can do nothing”

The back catalogue of notorious perfectionist and genreless chameleon Arthur Russell is so vast, so varied that even 27 years after he was taken from us, we’re still being treated to new material. Every single song of his that’s been released posthumously, including all 19 tracks of Iowa Dream, feel like their own revelation, each of them a uniquely dazzling bucking of all your expectations of what a song of his should sound like. “Wonder Boy” is unique in how tidily its melancholy, frosty images of impermanence sum up the tragic story of Arthur Russell the man- the brilliant artist who never found success and only ever managed to put out a single album while he was alive- the wonder boy who could do nothing.

16. “I THINK OF SATURDAY”- Moodymann

“I called you on Thursday... I called you on Friday...”

“I Think of Saturday” starts simply enough, listing the days of the week almost as a gimmick, evoking soul and early rock filtered through a house lens, until halfway through the song when the beat drops away, introducing a brief sample of Joe Simon’s “With You in Mind” that’s followed by the reintroduction of the beat, but now accompanied by a recurring distorted, dissonant chord that reframes the song as a sinisterly rousing account of unrequited desire and delusion that refracts itself over and over again.

15. “SOFIA”- Clairo

“I think we could do it if we tried”

The opening bars of Clairo’s “Sofia” sound like a really good Strokes knock off, but the song quickly reveals itself to be something vastly more interesting, unfolding itself steadily over the course of three minutes as she and producer Rostam Batmanglij subvert well worn pop tropes to craft an exquisitely textured, soul-baring, and ultimately hopeful anthem for young wlw everywhere.

14. “LARK”- Angel Olsen

“What about my dreams?”

Olsen’s widescreen, abstract vision of a break-up song is thrillingly unbound from the constrictions of song structure and narrative, favoring instead the visceral power of strings and drastic dynamic contrast to craft a symphony in miniature, a “journey through grief” as Olsen herself describes it, that announces the bold, panoramic vision of her fourth album.

13. “WALK AWAY”- (Sandy) Alex G

“Someday I’m gonna walk away from you. Not today...”

“Walk Away” evokes the sense of being trapped, stuck in a cycle of recognizing unhealthy relationships or habits and being unable or unwilling to do anything about them, looping the simple two line refrain over and over and over again to weave a hopeless, woozy tapestry of crunching beats, acoustic and electric guitar, mournful piano and harpsichord, and distorted vocals.

12. “THIS COUNTRY MAKES IT HARD TO FUCK” (BJÖRK REMIX)- Fever Ray

“That’s not how to love me!”

Björk isolates the most memorable line from Fever Ray’s “This Country”- “this country makes it hard to fuck!”-and explodes it, distorting it and stretching it across a fearsome sample of the droning, discordant flutes from “Song of the Alféreces and Dances of the Chinos,” evoking a kind of tortured funhouse mirror image of the current state of reproductive rights that rightly recasts Fever Ray’s song as a horror film.

11. “ABOUT WORK THE DANCEFLOOR”- Georgia

“I was just thinking about work the danefloor...”

“About Work the Dancefloor” is Georgia’s ode to the cathartic, restorative powers of the dancefloor, where your worries fall away as you melt into the crowd and language abstracts itself, as evidenced by that perplexing chorus that doesn’t seem to mean anything- and why should it? When you’re lost in her pounding bass and gurgling synths, that incoherence is strangely comforting. You can cast whatever meaning you want onto it and work through it physically, together.

10. “GONE”- Charli XCX & Christine and the Queens

“I try real hard, but I’m caught up by my insecurities”

The jelly squiggles that criss-cross Charli XCX and her collaborator’s faces on the artwork released for the singles from her latest album Charli suggest a kind of symbiosis, a cosmic intertwining of sorts. But only “Gone” achieves a true melding of the minds, where Charli and Chris’s best and boldest instincts collide, complimenting one another seamlessly in this dizzying vision of insecurity and isolation that unravels into a stunning pop abstraction.

09. “CELLOPHANE”- FKA twigs

“Why don’t I do it for you?”

Usually for FKA twigs, more is more. Her songs are busy, even the slower ones, packed to the brim with glitches, unusual rhythms, and a million little details that pull attention, giving them texture and making them extremely immersive listening experiences. “Cellophane” pares those idiosyncrasies back. They’re still there, but the focus is twigs’s voice, which bends and cracks and really emotes in a way we’ve never heard. Her voice is naked and unvarnished, allowing her to be truly vulnerable in a way we’ve never heard either, and it’s heartbreaking.

08. “CINNAMON GIRL”- Lana Del Rey

“If you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.”

“Cinnamon Girl” is the culmination of every other ballad she’s ever written. They were practice and this is the real deal- a painterly missive on tumultuous love that reads like a pained confession whispered in confidence, something Lana’s always done well, but her composition has never been so exquisite or immersive, so beautifully in concert with her poetry or her velvet voice, or so flawlessly constructed, effortlessly building toward a show-stopping finale that asserts Lana as the postmodern princess of Americana.

07. “COOKIE BUTTER”- Kim Gordon

“Industrial...metal...supplies...”

“Cookie Butter” has got to be the most stunning showcase of the power of Kim Gordon’s voice, as she drags out some vowels, muffles others, attacks consonants and bends words until they don’t sound like words anymore, all atop a trance inducing beat drives towards the song’s unlikely climax- Kim Gordon saying “cookie butter” in the most impossibly distinct way you could imagine that carries the weight of an EDM drop, leading the track into it’s disorienting second half that both clarifies and obscures the half that came before it. Haunting and addictive.

06. “CATTAILS”- Big Thief

“You don’t need to know why when you cry.”

To hear Big Thief talk about the process of writing and recording “Cattails” on their episode of the Song Exploder podcast, one is struck by how organic it was. Adrianne Lenker describes it as a “magic wind” that swept through the studio, the song kind of falling out of them in one take. That sense of life comes through in the song, the simple, sublime repetition, bounce, and build of it sounding like a transmission from deep within the soul, a cosmic image of nostalgia and grief that is as cathartic as it is heavenly.

05. “GOD CONTROL”- Madonna

“I think I understand why people get a gun.”

“God Control” is ostensibly about gun control, though you’d be forgiven if you had a hard time discerning what exactly she’s trying to say. Like some of her best work, it’s provocative and maybe a little empty, but damn if it isn’t supremely interesting and compelling as hell. Madonna taps into a sense of apocalyptic malaise and skepticism of authority that feels at times remarkably in tune with the public consciousness, at others a grotesque caricature of it, to uniformly fascinating results as she spins a deranged disco yarn that, once those swirling strings hit, is downright euphoric.

04. “GOLD TEETH”- Blood Orange, ft. Gangsta Boo, Project Pat, & Tinashe

“We gon’ rumble in this ho!”

Blood Orange takes Project Pat’s “Rinky Dink II/We’re Gonna Rumble” and explodes it, gifting it both playful levity and added depth with a rollicking beat minor chord synths respectively, effortlessly criss crossing Hynes’s many disparate strengths and interests in the most effortlessly rousing and joyful track in his entire ouevre, elevated by the powerhouse Three 6 Mafia reunion verses of Gangsta Boo and Project Pat himself.

03. “INCAPABLE”- Róisín Murphy

“I don’t know if I can love, in all honesty.”

“Incapable,” Róisín Murphy’s virtuosic disco epic, stops time. That indelibly simple bass line loops over and over and over again until you’re lost in it, the song slowly building itself on top of it, adding claps here, hi hat there, rising towards a stunning sequence backed by whooshing synths where the song really comes alive, where an almost boastful breakup anthem morphs into a glamorously melancholy self-indictment in which she ponders that maybe it’s her there’s something wrong with, creating a dazzling dichotomy between the pitfalls of introspection and the bliss of the dancefloor.

02. “MOVIES”- Weyes Blood

“The meaning of life doesn’t seem to shine like that screen.”

“Movies,” appropriately, plays out with a big screen gloss. Those arpeggiated synths feel like they’re slowly expanding as Natalie Mering coos atop them, wondering how if movies are fake, how come they’re more real than anything in real life? As the synths suddenly give way to frenzied strings, the song splits itself open, giving itself over wholly to the melodrama, the sweeping enormity of feeling that Mering so masterfully conjures as she longs for the vitality, the simple answers, and the meaningfulness of movies.

01. “DO YOU LOVE HER NOW”- Jai Paul

“There’s a time for everything.”

On June 1, 2019, when I first read the news that Jai Paul had released new music, news so momentous it was accompanied by a red “breaking news” banner on Pitchfork’s home page, I immediately found my headphones and sequestered myself. I knew whatever I was about to listen to would require my undivided attention. Quite frankly, I was shocked it existed at all. After the notorious, devastating leak of his music in 2013, he’d exiled himself so thoroughly that it was easy to believe he was just gone forever. But here it was, the second coming- two (2!) new songs, effectively doubling the amount of (completed) material he’s released in an official capacity.

Pressing play, I was a little nervous that it wouldn’t live up to my expectations, that it might somehow diminish the work of his that I’d loved so much, that changed the way I think about pop and R&B. That didn’t end up being a problem. While “He” is excellent, “Do You Love Her Now” is maybe the most stunning piece of music he’s ever written. Billowing, moseying guitars provide the heartbeat for what starts as a straightforward, sublimely simple send up of 60′s and 70′s R&B. But this Jai Paul we’re talking about, and nothing he does is simple. Nuances and complexities creep out organically from the fabric of the song- synths whiz in and out, harmonies soar to the forefront of the soundscape seemingly out of nowhere and fall away just as suddenly, crafting an immersive, richly textured listening experience that is unpredictable, washing over you like a wave, building, cresting, and crashing over and over again.

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tasksweekly · 5 years ago

Photo

[TASK 183: RWANDA]

In celebration of February being Black History Month, here’s a masterlist below compiled of over 220+ Rwandan faceclaims categorised by gender with their occupation and ethnicity denoted if there was a reliable source. If you want an extra challenge use random.org to pick a random number! Of course everything listed below are just suggestions and you can pick whichever faceclaim or whichever project you desire.

Any questions can be sent here and all tutorials have been linked below the cut for ease of access! REMEMBER to tag your resources with #TASKSWEEKLY and we will reblog them onto the main! This task can be tagged with whatever you want but if you want us to see it please be sure that our tag is the first five tags, @ mention us or send us a messaging linking us to your post!

THE TASK - scroll down for FC’s!

STEP 1: Decide on a FC you wish to create resources for! You can always do more than one but who are you starting with? There are links to masterlists you can use in order to find them and if you want help, just send us a message and we can pick one for you at random!

STEP 2: Pick what you want to create! You can obviously do more than one thing, but what do you want to start off with? Screencaps, RP icons, GIF packs, masterlists, PNG’s, fancasts, alternative FC’s - LITERALLY anything you desire!

STEP 3: Look back on tasks that we have created previously for tutorials on the thing you are creating unless you have whatever it is you are doing mastered - then of course feel free to just get on and do it. :)

STEP 4: Upload and tag with #TASKSWEEKLY! If you didn’t use your own screencaps/images make sure to credit where you got them from as we will not reblog packs which do not credit caps or original gifs from the original maker.

THINGS YOU CAN MAKE FOR THIS TASK - examples are linked!

Stumped for ideas? Maybe make a masterlist or graphic of your favourite faceclaims. A masterlist of names. Plot ideas or screencaps from a music video preformed by an artist. Masterlist of quotes and lyrics that can be used for starters, thread titles or tags. Guides on culture and customs.

Screencaps

RP icons [of all sizes]

Gif Pack [maybe gif icons if you wish]

PNG packs

Manips

Dash Icons

Character Aesthetics

PSD’s

XCF’s

Graphic Templates - can be chara header, promo, border or background PSD’s!

FC Masterlists - underused, with resources, without resources!

FC Help - could be related, family templates, alternatives.

Written Guides.

and whatever else you can think of / make!

MASTERLIST!

Cécile Kayirebwa (1946) Rwandan - singer.

Kiara Kabukuru (1975) Rwandan / Ankole Ugandan - model.

Sonia Rolland (1981) Tutsi Rwandan / French - actress, model, and Miss France 2000.

Somi / Laura Kabasomi Kakoma (1981) Rwandan / Ugandan - actress, singer-songwriter, and cellist.

Miss Jojo / Iman Uwineza / Josiane Uwineza (1982) Rwandan - singer.

Dorothée Munyaneza (1982) Rwandan - actress, singer, dancer, and choreographer.

Miss Shanel / Ruth Nirere (1985) Rwandan - actress and singer.

Eliane Umuhire (1986) Rwandan - actress.

Aline Gahongayire (1986) Rwandan - actress and singer.

Judith Heard (1986) Tutsi Rwandan - model, socialite, and humanitarian.

Dallila Hermans (1986) Rwandan - reality tv personality and author.

Knowless / Jeanne d’Arc Ingabire Butera (1990) Rwandan - singer.

Grace Bahati (1990) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2009.

Queen Cha / Yvonne Mujyemana (1991) Rwandan - singer.

Shaddyboo (1992) Rwandan - instagrammer (shaddyboo_92).

Miss Erica / Irakoze Erica (1993) Rwandan / Burundian - singer-songwriter.

Aurore Mutesi Kayibanda (1993) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2012.

Sherrie Silver (1994) Rwandan - actress, dancer, and choreographer.

Colombe Akiwacu (1994) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2014.

Doriane Kundwa (1995) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2015.

Jolly Mutesi (1996) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2016.

Belle Oceanne Iradukunda (1996) Rwandan - actress and model.

Meghan Nimwiza (1998) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2019.

Elsa Iradukunda (1998) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2017.

Liliane Iradukunda (1999) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 2018.

Tanya Auclair (?) Rwandan / Unspecified White - actress, singer-songwriter, model, multi-instrumentalist, and producer.

Barbara Panther (?) Rwandan - singer-songwriter.

Mbabazi Ange (?) Rwandan - model.

Sasha Wilhelm (?) Rwandan, Belgian / Hungarian, British - actress, producer, and writer.

Amanda Kaneza (?) Rwandan - model.

Ingabire Louange (?) Rwandan - actress.

Dalila Uwera (?) Rwandan - model and Miss Rwanda 1993.

Kaneza Lynka-Amanda (?) Rwandan - model.

Dorcas Sebareme (?) Rwandan, Congolese - actress and model.

Aline Kalisa (?) Rwandan - actress and model.

Joy Zuba (?) Rwandan - model.

Payla Alexandre Kamagaju (?) Rwandan - model.

Raïssa Mata (?) Rwandan - model (instagram: msmata_).

Lyndz Tuyishime (?) Rwandan - model (instagram: lyndz_tuyishime).

Varlene Mukamunana (?) Rwandan - model (instagram: queenv20_).

Janvière (?) Rwandan - model (instagram: janvieremukama).

F - Athletes:

Marcianne Mukamurenzi (1959) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Apollinarie Nyinawabéra (1962) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Daphrose Nyiramutuzo (1972) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Inmaculle Naberaho (1973) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Laurence Niyonsaba (1973) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Épiphanie Nyirabaramé (1981) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Claudette Mukasakindi (1982) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Christine Mukamutesi (1983) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Pamela Girimbabazi (1985) Rwandan - swimmer.

Salima Mukansanga (1988) Rwandan - footballer.

Yolanda Ngarambe (1991) Rwandan / Finnish - middle-distance runner.

Jeanne d’Arc Girubuntu (1995) Rwandan - cyclist.

Beatha Ingabire (1995) Rwandan - cyclist.

Alphonsine Agahozo (1996) Rwandan - swimmer.

Olive Izerimana (1996) Rwandan - cyclist.

Johanna Umurungi (1996) Rwandan - swimmer.

Salome Nyirarukundo (1997) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Beatha Nishimwe (1998) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Magnifique Manizabayo (1999) Rwandan - cyclist.

Jacqueline Tuyishimire (1999) Rwandan - cyclist.

Genevieve Mukundente (1999) Rwandan - cyclist.

Lokua Kanza (1958) Tutsi Rwandan / Mongo Congolese - singer-songwriter.

Jean-Paul Samputu (1962) Rwandan - singer-songwriter and guitarist.

Venuste Nshimiyimana (1963) Tutsi Rwandan - tv presenter and radio presenter.

Ben Kayiranga (1967) Tutsi Rwandan - singer and guitarist.

Dorcy Rugamba (1969) Tutsi Rwandan - actor, director, and author.

Michel Mpambara (1973) Rwandan - actor and comedian.

Christopher Simpson (1975) Rwandan, Greek / Irish - actor, singer-songwriter, and audiobook narrator.

Gilbert Ndahayo (1975) Rwandan - actor and filmmaker.

Corneille / Cornelius Nyungura (1977) Rwandan - singer-songwriter.

Frederic Jean (1981) Rwandan - actor and stuntman.

Gaël Faye (1982) Rwandan, Burundian / French - rapper-songwriter, singer, and author.

Shad / Shad K / Shadrach Kabango (1982) Rwandan - rapper, guitarist, and broadcaster.

Kitoko / Patrick Bibarwa (1985) Rwandan - rapper.

Stromae / Paul Van Haver (1985) Tutsi Rwandan / Flemish Belgian - rapper-songwriter, singer, keyboardist, and drummer.

Alpha Rwirangira (1988) Rwandan - singer-songwriter.

The Ben / Benjamin Mugisha (1987) Tutsi Rwandan - singer-songwriter.

Enric Sifa / Eric Nshimiyumuremyi (1988) Tutsi Rwandan - singer-songwriter, guitarist, and motivational speaker.

Usama Mukwaya (1989) Rwandan, Ganda Ugandan, Ankole Ugandan - actor, tv host, director, producer, and screenwriter.

Danny Nanone / Ntakirutimana Danny (1990) Rwandan - rapper-songwriter and singer.

Kevin / Kevin K / Kevin Kayirangwa (1991) Rwandan - singer and guitarist.

Ncuti Gatwa (1992) Rwandan - actor.

Roger Nsengiyumva (1994) Tutsi Rwandan - actor.

Trezzo Mahoro (1996) Rwandan - actor.

DJ Pius / Rukabuza Pius (?) Rwandan - singer, DJ, and producer.

Nkusi Arthur (?) Rwandan - actor, singer, comedian, and dancer.

Eloi El (?) Rwandan - singer and DJ.

Ras Kayaga / Ibrahim Nahimana (?) Rwandan - singer and guitarist.

Ian Nsenga (?) Rwandan - actor, director, producer, and writer.

Rutamu Elie Joe (?) Rwandan - DJ, radio personality, and tv presenter.

Jean Butoyi (?) Rwandan - tv presenter.

Nzozinziza Christian (?) Rwandan - model.

Oliver (?) Rwandan - model (instagram: i_am_olivier).

famousblvck (?) Rwandan - model.

M - Athletes:

John Nagenda (1938) Rwandan - cricketer.

Faustin Butéra (1955) Rwandan - sprinter.

Eulucane Ndagijimana (1961) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Mathias Ntawulikura (1964) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Alphonse Nshimiyiama (1965) Rwandan - cyclist.

Telesphore Dusabe (1965) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Seraphin Mugabo (1968) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Faustin Mparabanyi (1970) Rwandan - cyclist.

Eric Nshimiyimana (1972) Rwandan - footballer.

Patrick Ishyaka (1972) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Alphonse Munyeshyaka (1974) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Eric Eugène Murangwa (1975) Rwandan - footballer.

Désiré Mbonabucya (1977) Rwandan - footballer.

Emmanuel Rubayiza (1977) Rwandan - sprinter.

Claude Kalisa (1977) Tutsi Rwandan - footballer.

Alexis Sharangabo (1978) Rwandan - middle-distance runner.

Abraham Ruhumuriza (1979) Rwandan - cyclist.

Manfred Kizito (1980) Rwandan - footballer.

Dieudonné Disi (1980) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Nathan Byukusenge (1980) Rwandan - cyclist.

Ambroise Uwiragiye (1980) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Leonce Sekama (1980) Rwandan - cyclist.

Manix Auriantal (1980) Rwandan - basketball player.

Samson Ndayishimiye (1980) Rwandan - cyclist.

Edwin Ouon (1981) Rwandan - footballer.

Abdul Sibomana (1981) Rwandan - footballer.

Ellis Kayijuka (1981) Brazilian [Rwandan] - basketball player.

Jimmy Gatete (1982) Rwandan - footballer.

Elias Ntaganda (1982) Rwandan - footballer.

Matthew Miller (1982) Rwandan - basketball player.

Joseph Kizito (1982) Rwandan - footballer.

Robert Thomson (1982) Rwandan - basketball player.

Saïd Makasi (1982) Rwandan - footballer.

Karim Kamanzi (1983) Rwandan - footballer.

Olivier Karekezi (1983) Rwandan - footballer.

Jean Pierre Mvuyekure (1984) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Jean-Paul Eale Lutula (1984) Rwandan - footballer.

Kami Kabange (1984) Rwandan - basketball player.

Mémé Tchité / Mohamed Tchité (1984) Rwandan, Burundian, Congolese - footballer. - footballer.

Jimmy Mulisa (1984) Rwandan - footballer.

Kenny Gasana (1984) Rwandan - basketball player.

Henri Munyaneza (1984) Rwandan - footballer.

Robert Kajuga (1985) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Honore Kabongo (1985) Rwandan - footballer.

Bobo Bola (1985) Rwandan - footballer.

Junior Ndagano (1985) Rwandan - footballer.

Amandin Rutayisire (1985) Rwandan - basketball player.

Labama Bokota (1985) Rwandan - footballer.

Daddy Birori / Etekiama Agiti Tady (1986) Rwandan - footballer.

Olivier Uwingabire (1986) Rwandan - footballer.

Clavel Kayitaré (1986) Rwandan - paralympic sprinter.

Jean-Claude Ndoli (1986) Rwandan - footballer.

Roger Tchouassi (1986) Rwandan - footballer.

Eric Gasana (1986) Rwandan - footballer.

Meddie Kagere (1986) Rwandan - footballer.

Adrien Niyonshuti (1987) Tutsi Rwandan - cyclist.

Jean-Pierre Mabula Hakiri (1987) Rwandan - footballer.

Gasore Hategeka (1987) Rwandan - cyclist.

Chris Rwabukamba (1987) Rwandan - football player.

Andre Lomami (1987) Rwandan - footballer.

Carlos Mugabo (1987) Rwandan - basketball player.

Kévin Monnet-Paquet (1988) Rwandan / French - footballer.

Joseph Biziyaremye (1988) Rwandan - cyclist.

Aristide Mugabe (1988) Rwandan - basketball player.

Jackson Niyomugabo (1988) Rwandan - cyclist.

Abouba Sibomana (1989) Rwandan - footballer.

Gilbert Manier Muvunyi (1990) Rwandan - footballer.

Jean-Claude Iranzi (1990) Rwandan - footballer.

Haruna Niyonzima (1990) Rwandan - footballer.

Darrius Garrett (1990) Rwandan - basketball player.

Michel Ndahinduka (1990) Rwandan - footballer.

Steven Godfroid (1990) Rwandan - footballer.

Jacques Tuyisenge (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Elias Uzamukunda (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Janvier Hadi (1991) Rwandan - cyclist.

Zhan Beleniuk (1991) Hutu Rwandan / Ukrainian - wrestler.

Jean-Luc Ndayishimiye (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Ernest Sugira (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Jean-Baptiste Mugiraneza (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Quentin Rushenguziminega (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Jessy Reindorf (1991) Rwandan - footballer.

Hervé Rugwiro (1992) Rwandan - footballer.

Hegman Ngomirakiza (1992) Rwandan - footballer.

Bonaventure Uwizeyimana (1993) Rwandan - cyclist.

Atuheire Kipson (1993) Rwandan - footballer.

Jean Bosco Nsengimana (1993) Rwandan - cyclist.

Gaël Bigirimana (1993) Rwandan / Burundian - footballer.

Salomon Nirisarike (1993) Rwandan - footballer.

Fred Yannick Uwase (1994) Rwandan - judoka.

Emery Bayisenge (1994) Rwandan - footballer.

Michel Rusheshangoga (1994) Rwandan - footballer.

Valens Ndayisenga (1994) Rwandan - cyclist.

Charles Tibingana (1994) Rwandan - footballer.

Imran Nshimiyimana (1994) Rwandan - footballer.

Félicien Muhitira (1994) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Muhadjiri Hakizimana (1994) Rwandan - footballer.

Emmanuel Sebareme (1995) Rwandan - cricketer.

Yannick Mukunzi (1995) Rwandan - footballer.

Eloi Imaniraguha (1995) Rwandan - swimmer.

Olivier Kwizera (1995) Rwandan - footballer.

Kubwimana Kazingufu Ali (1995) Rwandan - basketball player.

Alfred Mugabo (1995) Rwandan - footballer.

Olivier Shyaka (1995) Rwandan - basketball player.

Patrick Sibomana (1996) Rwandan - footballer.

Aldo Kalulu (1996) Rwandan / Congolese - footballer.

Djihad Bizimana (1996) Rwandan - footballer.

Joseph Areruya (1996) Rwandan - cyclist.

Mohamed Mushimiyimana (1996) Rwandan - footballer.

Fitina Omborenga (1996) Rwandan - footballer.

Abdul Rwatubyaye (1996) Rwandan - footballer.

Samuel Mugisha (1997) Rwandan - cyclist.

Gédéon Kalulu (1997) Rwandan / Congolese - footballer.

Aimable Nsabimana (1997) Rwandan - footballer.

Dominique Savio Nshuti (1997) Rwandan - footballer.

Frank Ntilikina (1998) Rwandan - basketball player.

Innocent Nshuti (1998) Rwandan - footballer.

Didier Munyaneza (1998) Rwandan - cyclist.

York Rafael (1999) Rwandan - footballer.

Ildephonse Sehirwa (?) Rwandan - long-distance runner.

Vincent Mashami (?) Rwandan - footballer.

Emmanuel Nkurunziza (?) Rwandan - cyclist.

Alexis Mutangana (?) Rwandan - footballer.

César Rwagasana (?) Rwandan - paralympic swimmer.

Baptiste Kayiranga (?) Rwandan - footballer.

Jean de Dieu Nkundabera (?) Rwandan - paralympic middle-distance runner.

Longin Rudasingwa (?) Rwandan - footballer.

#rwandan fc #black fc #poc fc #fc list #underused fc #task: 183 #task: rwanda

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ao3feed-bemorechill · 5 years ago

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Dysgraphia

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2znp27y

by JeremyQueere

Jeremy sucks at writing, like he fucking doesn't know english. If anybody notices they don't care.... And then somebody notices and they do care.

Words: 1576, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Jeremy Heere, Michael Mell, Teacher (Character), Christine Canigula

Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Learning Disabilities, Trans Male Character, Trans Jeremy Heere, Gay Michael Mell, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Author Projecting onto Jeremy Heere, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Author Regrets Everything

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2znp27y

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bmc #be more chill #boyf riends

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maddiviner · 6 years ago

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Hello everyone! Welcome to a very unique installment of my annotated bibliography series!

You may or may not have heard of otherkin, therianthropy, and related concepts. Defined loosely, these terms tend to refer to people who have a sense of identifying as something other than human on a spiritual level.

I’ve mentioned a few times on this blog that I, myself, am an otter therian. I discuss this in detail here, so have a look at that post if you’ve no clue what I’m talking about.

It can be hard to find useful, sensible writings on the otherkin or therianthropy phenomenon, both today and historically. While non-human identities have had a place in many cultures worldwide throughout time, this can be hard to learn about if you’re not in academia.

Beyond that, there just aren’t a lot of published works about the modern otherkin community, either!

In this article, I’ve compiled a sort of reading list for therians, the therian-adjacent, and anyone else who may be interested in nonhuman spiritual identities.

This is not a “recommended reading” list. Instead, it includes all the books I’ve personally read that either mention otherkin and therianthropy, or are otherwise pertinent to the topic.

For the sake of completeness, I’ve included some books which, while relevant and perhaps influential, I wouldn’t personally recommend. Conversely, some of these books are excellent.

While I won’t be assigning star ratings to these books, most are followed by short descriptions as well as my general thoughts on them.

I’ve divided this list into three parts. The first focuses on otherkin phenomena in general. The second lists more distant, outside perspectives that mention otherkin the otherkin community.

The third section is focused on general animal and shifting-related magic. I include those books because, while not all otherkin practice any sort of magic, most of my readership on this blog likely does. It is a witchblr, after all.

General Otherkin Information

A Field Guide to Otherkin, by Lupa. The author of this book, Lupa Greenwolf, originally identified as a wolf therian herself. Later on, she concluded that her experiences fit better with totemism than therianthropy. This book collected a lot of first-hand experiences from the otherkin community, though, and is still worth checking out.

The Book of Satyr Magick: Otherkin Shamanic Sorcery, by Lotuswolf Satyrhorn. This one, though it has “otherkin” in the title, seems to have been written by someone who doesn’t quite grasp the concept. Considering several parts are devoted to picking (yes, as in choosing) a “kintype,” I would say this book is mostly geared towards witches interested in astral shapeshifting rather than actual otherkin sorts. The author just seems to use the word “otherkin” as a catch-all for non-human interaction out-of-body.

Earth Angels, and Earth Angel Realms, by Doreen Virtue. These two books were written back prior to Doreen Virtue’s conversion to evangelical Christianity. While neither use the term “otherkin,” they describe the same phenomenon using the term “earth angel.” Very New Age, with an emphasis on eschatology, positing that “earth angels” are here to save the world or something.

The Psychic Vampire Codex, by Michelle Belanger. Covers the concept of the psychic vampire as understood in the modern alterhuman community. As a witch, I will often recommend this, and other Belanger books, to those interested in picking up energy work. This book in particular gives a good foundation for manipulating and sensing energy, regardless of whether you consider yourself a psychic vampire.

The Magic of Shapeshifting, by Rosalyn Greene. This is really an awful book, and I cannot recommend it one bit! Some in the therian community claim that the author plagiarized existing therian sites when writing. To me, that’s not even the main issue and it honestly reads like the author fabricated a lot of what she wrote just to sound interesting and mystical. She also seems to believe in physical shapeshifting, for reasons never well-explained.

Outside Perspectives

The Veil’s Edge, by Willow Polson. A sort of dark, yet New Age volume, this contains a small section on otherkin near the end. It situates us as “guardians of the veil” and, like Doreen Virtue’s work, argues that otherkin are on a mission of sorts here on earth.

Not in Kansas Anymore, by Christine Wicker. This book is essentially a journalist’s account of skipping around the country, gawking at “weirdos” like witches, otherkin, and therians. Very, very sensationalist, but contains a bit of a snapshot of the alterhuman community in the mid-2000s.

Your Next Door Neighbor is a Dragon, by Zack Parsons. Purports to be the experiences of the author as he goes on a journey to investigate internet subcultures. Most of it seems to be fictitious, though, and plenty of things mentioned in the book definitely never happened. Notable because Parsons creates a couple of otherkin characters (likely not based on real people) to project his own view of our community onto, and two chapters focus on them.

Animal Magic

Fang and Fur, Blood and Bone, and Engaging the Spirit World, and also DIY Totemism, all by Lupa. Lupa, as mentioned above, isn’t a therian, but she is one of the best authors out there when it comes to animal-related magic and mystic practices. Of note: DIY Totemism actually includes advice and a ritual for finding/connecting with your theriotype. The rest will probably only interest those who are pagans or animists, but they give interesting contexts for animal-human spiritual connections either way.

The Art of Shapeshifting, by Ted Andrews. This is supposed to be a book about learning to connect with animal spirits. It does a tolerable job of explaining some of the basics of meditation, invocation and other practices. Mostly, though, the author focuses overly-much on dancing, and argues that only those who dance can truly be shifters (rather than just “dabblers”). A lot of it is appropriative or tries to pass off the authors’ unverifiable personal gnosis as indigenous lore.

Witches, Werewolves, and Faeries, by Claude Lecouteux. This is a dense academic tome packed with medieval (and earlier… and later…) accounts of shapeshifting, astral projection, animal identities, and more. It’s not an easy read and probably you’ll have an easier time if you’re accustomed to reading academic works. Some of the historical anecdotes are interesting in an otherkin context.

I hope you found something new to read amidst this list!

I’m not including any books about past lives outside of the usual otherkin-related repertoire. Such books are certainly applicable to many of us (therians, etc), but I plan to make a separate bibliography specifically for past lives, so stay tuned for that.

If you’re interested in seeing previous installments with books on other occult and witchy topics, check out the #annobib tag on my blog! Also, if you click the links above to purchase any of the books on Amazon, I get a bit of pocket money from their affiliate program, which is cool.

#therian #otherkin #witchblr #witchcraft #witch #eliza reads #eliza.txt #annobib #therianthropy #otters #otter #shifter #shapeshifter #shapeshifting #book recommendations #book reviews #books

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fokxie · 5 years ago

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OC introduction #1: Christine

Christine is one of my Most use/Main OC. I relate a lot to her so usually I project some of my own personalities onto her! good bad or worse this is still one of my favourite characters.

Name: Christine

Age: ?? (Immortality)

Gender: Female

Species: Humanoid Dragon/Phoenix, with the ability to shift into either of them and use their respective abilities, eg, using fire at will (don’t get on her bad side!)

Likes: Dragons, Fire, Demons, Being in control/Authority, Tea, Sharks

Dislikes: Being controlled or told what to do, Nobbies (character), Being emotional, relationships, men due to past Personality: Her personality can depend on which side (her dragon or phoenix) is more prominent that day. If it is her dragon (usually the case) then she is more kind hearted, friendly, motherly and caring. If it is her phoenix she is generally a very heated, angry and aggressive person, she also begins to get hungry and destructive. Not only that but her hormones become unbearable, so it is much easier to persuade her when she is like this and will usually calm down. She isn’t able to control her phoenix side as much as her dragon side as she gained the ability later in life even though it was inherited. Thanks to anti she can be more erratic and cluster brained whenever she is around. When talking about love and relationships she tends to go into her shell a bit or get really upset. Her first relationship was a big part of her life and now that they are no longer around it can give her a hard time to think about or cope with certain functions.

Sexuality: Questioning, but in a relationship with a female, and been in 2 other relationships with men

Pets or Familiars?: As she is a dragon, she is able to control and be the authority of other dragons with her ability. Making dragons like pets to her, she tends to adopt the smaller and baby dragons as her own children and raise them. Her favourite being Cosmo a baby dragon that has yet to learn to speak but is affectionate and protective towards Christine.

Special relationships with other OC’s?: Anti - close friend, guidance, overseer/protector, general nuisance Aiden - had a crush when they first met, but now finds him annoying and wants him to leave her alone, but because he is always around Anti he is hard to avoid. Emily - Friend, shes really good at providing comfort food when Christine is feeling down in the dumps or really particularly craving food. Also a good indicator when she is around Christine a lot with food it probably means Christine is pregnant. Chloe - Like an aunt, sends a lot of tea in the mail... too much... stop sending tea! Nobbie(s) - Mother, unfortunately, very weird, very annoying, do not recommend, if you ever meet a nobbie just... pretend you didn’t. Please.

#oc #own character #rp #roleplay #writing #art

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junietuesday · 6 years ago

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Okay so I usually don’t make original posts but I had to say something about the closing of BMC. I am genuinely devastated. I’d always liked musicals, but it was just a casual enjoyment -- I rocked to the music but I never listened to the songs closely or got involved with the actual stories behind them. Musicals weren’t anything to get passionate about.

But then came Be More Chill.

I found BMC through a comment on “Waving Through a Window”. Someone was calling WTaW the perfect anthem for social anxiety, and another person replied “No, Michael in the Bathroom is a better one”. (Personally, I don’t agree -- WTaW shows the truth of living with social anxiety better in my opinion, while MitB is a single panic attack -- but I digress.) I’d seen the song recommended around a few times, but I’d never really paid attention to it -- I guess the cover didn’t really catch my attention or whatever, and honestly, “Michael in the Bathroom” doesn’t sound like the most riveting tune. But that comment piqued my curiosity, so when Michael in the Bathroom appeared after the video finished, I clicked on it. I was immediately sucked in by those iconic notes -- B A G# C# B E E -- and I stared at my screen with wide eyes as George Salazar sang about picking at grout and drunk girls singing along to Whitney and then wishing you were never born. It was such a relatable song, I could feel Michael’s panic attack. I was hooked, and immediately looked up the rest of the soundtrack. It was the same as with MitB -- I became absolutely obsessed. The music was incredible and swung from catchy to heartwrenching and back again and both at once. I absolutely fell in love with the characters in a way I’d never done before, and purely organically. (I discovered Harry Potter, my main fandom at the time, through my parents.) I related so hard to Jeremy and his anxiety and being hyper-aware of all your social interactions and just wishing you could be more. I related to Michael about acting chill and happy and then it all crashing down around you in one instant. I related to Christine about being the weird one who escaped real life into your passions. I played the soundtrack over and over and over again. I couldn’t get enough.

So, of course, I looked up “Be More Chill fanart”. Easy place to start, right?

And what did I find in the tags that Google recommended but “mahal kita”. I remember thinking “okay, why is there Tagalog here? does anyone even know what it means?” But I brushed it off as something in-universe, or something for an aesthetic, or well, something unrelated to the Tagalog words for I love you, until a few weeks later I went onto the AO3 tag for Be More Chill (that was the first time I properly touched AO3, before that I was on FFN which had no BMC content; yes, I know, FFN, don’t judge). I was somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of fics and no idea where to start (because at least I was familiar with the HP fandom despite the enormous amount of content), so I hit “sort by kudos”. Which lead me to “is this a forest (’cuz there sure is a lot of pine)” by @actualbird, or reptilianraven on AO3.

“How do you say ‘I love you’?” Jeremy asks in the summary. A few lines later, Michael replies, “Mahal kita. I love you in Tagalog is mahal kita.” And in the tags read “alternate title: the author is filipino and having so much fun”.

I was genuinely shocked. I’d never seen anything about Filipinos anywhere, or anything having to do with the Philippines at all. Until then I’d settled for Asian representation in general, resigned to (though I barely even knew it; I thought I was perfectly happy with) projecting onto the Chinese and Japanese or just vaguely Asian characters that, though still pretty rare, were far more abundant than Filipinos. So, of course, I had to click on the fic. (Funny thing is, I was on vacation visiting my relatives in the Philippines at the time I started really falling into the BMC fandom.)

As soon as I read the first few lines, I felt seen in a way I never had before.

“Michael’s Tagalog is conyo at best. He can understand Tagalog with no problem, but don’t count on him to string together a sentence in it without having to resort to the kind of Taglish that he’s sure would make his mom wince.”

“It’s me!” I remember thinking with excitement buzzing through me furiously. “Oh my God someone understands!” I promptly devoured the fic. I remember sitting on the floor of the guest bedroom of my tita and tito’s house in the outskirts of Manila, laughing so hard at “gago means best friend” and crying at “meron ba akong ginawa” and, just, I can barely describe what it was like. A Filipino character! An actual Filipino character, and one that I could relate to! I knew these experiences! I knew what they were talking about! I knew! I understood! (Though I do remember being slightly smug in the back of my mind about not needing the translations in the A/Ns lmao, I like to think I’ve grown out of that but well)

Then I zoomed through the rest of the fandom, and what do you know, but Michael was always, always Filipino. Even if it was just a throwaway “the Filipino boy” or something like calling his mom “ina” (back then I’d take literally anything I could get), it wasn’t a question that Michael was from the Philippines. And then there were the people that really did put effort into learning about at least the basics like lolo/lola or ube rolls (one of the fics I remember most vividly having good rep is "meek shall inherit” by yellow_caballero, there was a line like “I’m Filipino we’re all religious” and I literally snorted). And when I got a Tumblr account (yes, I was pretty sheltered, I hadn’t touched anything outside of the Harry Potter section of FFN), I saw pieces of art where Michael speaks Tagalog. It was such an experience that I honestly do not know how to articulate. Even typing these paragraphs, I’m tearing up at the memories of reading these fics and feeling, for the first time in my life, truly seen. It also gave me the courage to be openly and proudly Filipino here, because otherwise, I’m pretty sure I would have just presented myself as vaguely American and hidden my ethnicity. (I will say that after the novelty’s worn off, there are issues with Michael’s portrayal, but honestly any representation at all is enough to make me satisfied after a lifetime of literally zero Filipino characters.)

Oh, and speaking of Tumblr. I only made one because I saw cool incorrect quotes and shitposts and such through the images search on Google, but I couldn’t actually see everything to see because I didn’t have an account. I’d thought about making a Tumblr before, but Be More Chill was really the push that got me to join. When I sat there with a whole new app in front of me, I was kind of overwhelmed by “what should I do?”. In the end, I decided to look up “aromantic” after seeing the word on a screenshot of a Tumblr post, and then things only continued from there. I’m sure that if I hadn’t discovered BMC, then I would have not even an inkling that I wasn’t straight. If not for Tumblr, and BMC in a roundabout way, then I would have no clue that the term angled aroace lesbian even existed, let alone that it could be me. So that’s a pretty big impact of the show right there.

Back to the actual source material. I’d arrived pretty late to the fandom, so the Broadway transfer from off-Broadway had already been announced. But I was around for Be More Chill actually going to the Lyceum, and seeing posts about all the new additions to the show, and then opening night. I managed to stay away from most of the drama, thankfully, by just lurking -- I consumed fic and art and planned some stories of my own (a ton are sitting in my drive, partly completed) and hung out on the BMC official Twitter and visited the accounts of George Salazar stans (as of now I’m surrounded more by Will Roland stans though).

Speaking of stans. Be More Chill was the sole reason how I found the artists whose work I will probably keep with me the rest of my life. Joe Iconis’s music touched me in a way no others have done before. Stephanie Hsu is such an inspiration, she’s a wonderful role model for Asian young women. George Salazar was one of the first actors ever to make a meaningful impact on my life, and the first Filipino I’ve ever been able to really look up to (and he’s the reason why Michael is headcanoned as Filipino too, which was how all that Filipino representation happened). Will Roland and his work (whether on BMC, DEH, or his performances filmed on phones in the deep pits of YouTube) will forever hold a place dear in my heart. Honestly, all of the cast and crew and creators of Be More Chill are so important to me. And Be More Chill was also the reason how I found other musicals that have touched my heart. I only really started digging into the Broadway fandom after Be More Chill, and it’s how I found The Prom, Lizard Boy, Fly by Night, Ordinary Days, and so many more musicals that I’ll never forget.

Okay, back to the source material again, for real this time. I remember absolutely devouring any and all content with the cast (Pac-Man Tattoo anyone? they were the only redeeming quality of my Tuesdays, it was when I had gym and I am Not Athletic). I remember desperately wanting a vinyl version of the soundtrack after watching that unboxing video with Joe Iconis and George Salazar. I remember absolutely freaking about the Philippines patch on Michael’s bows jacket. I remember being so proud of the show making it through the power of fandom. I also remember requests for maybe a Broadway cast album?

Which actually happened! I remember screaming internally when I saw the news, and then when they put the new “More Than Survive” on YouTube I clicked on it and wow-ed at the upgrade, then searched frantically “first look at bmc obcr”, leading me to versions of Michael in the Bathroom, Pitiful Children, I Love Play Rehearsal, and The Smartphone Hour.

And then I remember buzzing all of May 3rd and staying up til midnight (it was a Thursday), and then reloading and reloading YouTube and searching “bmc obcr” until finally a playlist popped up. Most of the views were under 200, some under 100 when I watched; I sat there in my bed with my laptop on top of a pillowpet and my headphones clamped on my ears, and I just sat there, and let the music wash over me. I closed all my tabs, the lights were off, the entire night was dedicated to the recording. I recognized all the changes, and found ones I loved and ones I loved less so, and I distinctly remember hearing the first few notes of Voices in My Head, in that new key that made the song more triumphant than cheerful, and crying about how far we’d come through the rest of the song. I showed up to school the next day with maybe 5 hours of sleep but it was so worth it.

And now we’re here. Typing this post because the show is ending its Broadway run. I feel like this didn’t quite do my experience justice, because I honestly do not think I’d be the person who I am today without Be More Chill. The show has truly changed my life in ways I can’t describe. I learned so much through this musical, about myself and about the world, and I’ve met so many wonderful people through it. I’m devastated that the show is closing and that I’ll never get a chance to see the musical that touched my heart in this way, but honestly, what I have right now -- the fandom, the cast recordings, the videos -- will be enough because that’s what changed my life, not seeing the show live.

#bmc #june actually says stuff outside the tags #oh wow i poured my heart and soul into this essay #i wish i could write this much for my wips #asfgasjkfskajgfasfdkgk i guess you can reblog?#please no negative commentary though this was mainly just to get my feelings out #and i don't want any of that on something that i bared my soul for #i hate that the ending kind of just like...ended #i can't think of a closing sentence and it's like 2 am so i'm just gonna post #afsljasfjlsdlga i'm braindead #take this rambling i guess #i should sleep #june speaks #filipino tag

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