#but in a way that feels realistic for the time and not a backwards projection of modern feminism?

[libraryspectre]

Are there any Lady Franklin fans because I love her honestly. I admire how well-spoken she was in front of a group of men who think she's being silly and dramatic, and her speech about standing in the snow was so good! And I love how determined she is to help however she can from thousands of miles away

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Project ~ LMH

⤜WORD COUNT: 2.7K

⤜GENRE: love story, established realtionship, professor x student, first kiss, sweet, fluffy, cold minho, sunshine reader

⤜PAIRING: Minho x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Here’s to another year of writing and making your requests come true! I hope you guys enjoy them as much as I love writing them! I hope this is okay for you my love!

They always say that great love stories are when you fall in love with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time and that couldn’t have been more true for you. Things had taken a weird turn in such a short span of months that you could hardly believe any of it was actually happening, and to you of all people. You hadn’t exactly been the luckiest when it came to finding love or even a relationship but everything had changed four months ago.

“I want you all to focus on the storytelling this time around, but not through the characters speaking with one another.” Your professor spoke out, glancing around at the class before his eyes landed on you lingering for a few short seconds before moving back around the rest of the class once again.

“With your next short film, I want you to focus on telling a story with the background, with music…With foreshadowing. Don’t make it easy. Challenge yourselves.” You resisted the urge to let out a groan, foreshadowing had always been something you struggled with when it came to your work so you knew you were in for a long night of studying. The bell rang and almost everyone moved in an instant, sliding out of their seats and falling into comfortable chatter about their projects that they were going to bed working on while you glanced at your professor. 

“Miss Y/ln, let me see you for a moment.” He spoke without looking away from his bag as the classroom emptied leaving the two of you alone and your heartbeat quickened, taking you back to a few months ago when this first happened to you.

“Miss Y/ln, let me see you for a moment.” The voice broke out making your skin crawl, you’d been so close to the exit that you could practically taste the freedom on the tips of your tongue. You bit back the urge to groan as you stepped backwards and turned around to face your professor who was looking back at you, his expression was completely unreadable but that had always been Minho’s expression. Ever since you'd joined his class he'd been this way, you'd heard from other students he was like it with everyone so you tried not to take it personally but it was hard not to when he was so blunt all of the time. 

That was why you did everything to stay out of his radar, doing everything possible so you'd never have to be alone with him or even get a bad grade. 

“We need to talk about your last assignment,” He told you as he dropped the DVD case onto his desk, his eyes staring down at it and you could have sworn you felt your heart shattering as the seconds ticked by, the clock on the wall seemed louder and you felt your palms sweating.

“Was it not good?” You hated yourself for the way your voice shook whenever you had to speak to him, you’d do everything within your willpower not to have any time alone with him or get into trouble with him.

“It’s not that it’s not good,” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he looked at you. When he took you onto his course he’d been told that you were the best of the best and someone who wouldn’t need much instruction when it came to working on projects but it seemed that might not have been all true. Your past work was good, great even, but lately as his class dove into the romance category of movies and short films you seemed to be struggling more and more.

“It doesn’t feel realistic. Truth be told, it’s like a really terrible hallmark movie.” If your heart had shattered before it was in tiny pieces now and stomped into the ground. You’d work so hard on your projects, all of them including this one, and yet he was so blunt and cold about it.

“You’ll redo the whole thing.” Your stomach dropped, you’d worked on the project for months. Creating the perfect story and then finding different actors who would be willing to actually work with you was hard enough. It wasn't as though they were lining up to be in films they wouldn't be paid for but would have to put in hours for.

“But-”

“And we’ll do some research before you film.” He told you coldly, picking up his bag and staring at you. His stare made you feel as though you’d turned to stone as you registered what he just said

“We?” You quizzed, following him as he made his way toward the exit holding your bag tightly. What did we mean? There was no way he was going to be allowed to shoot a film with you.

“Yes, We’ll meet up on Saturday morning at 8 in the Happenstance coffee shop.” He told you sternly giving you no time to reject it as he made his way into the busy hall and disappeared into the crowds of people making you whine a little. Spending time with Minho was going to kill you, literally, the man was too good-looking for his own good but that wasn’t why he made you uncomfortable.

The man was cold and blunt not to mention it looked like he could stop a titan in its tracks with one simple look, he scared the hell out of you and everyone else within your class now that you thought about it.

It doesn’t feel realistic. 

The words rattled around in your head all of the previous night, you could barely get any sleep all night long as you stayed up worrying about what today was going to bring. You’d even gotten to the cafe the second it opened, notepads in your bag, camera and anything else you could think of was stashed away since you had no idea what Minho had in store for you.

“Another refill?” Seumgin asked as he walked over to your table, holding up the jar of hot coffee, you couldn't count the cups you'd had on one hand but you were gladly going to take another if it meant keeping you awake.

“Yes-”

“She won’t be needing it.” Someone answered for you, your eyes travelling up to the voice when you saw Minho standing there. Except he looked completely different than he did as your professor, here he looked completely relaxed and at ease. Dressed in a pair of black jeans, and a plain white shirt and his hair was ruffled a little, he looked…Good. Too good, you knew you must have been staring for a while so you quickly looked away from him and down at your hands.

“We’ll take two teas and some food, something Yn likes.” He said before sitting across from you and watching you closely. He knew you came to this cafe a lot on your weekends since he’d seen you through the windows more times than he cared to admit. Seungmin glanced in your direction before nodding and making his way behind the counter.

“I’m an adult, I can order my own food.” You mumbled childishly.

“And yet, you’ve been here since they opened and haven't had a single thing to eat.” He mumbled looking at you, shaking his head in dissaporvement

“How did you know that?” You quizzed, slightly offended, if he’d been here as early as you were why hadn’t he said something or come in while you waited for him? 

“Not important, get your notebook out. We’ll be here for a while.” He tapped the table and looked out of the window. The truth was, he’d been on a run this morning when he saw you inside of the cafe and part of him wanted to stop and come in with you but he held himself back.

“What are we doing…exactly?” You mumbled reaching into your bag and pulling free an empty notebook and some pens, glancing at Minho and looking away faster. You didn’t want to stare at him too long in case he found it weird.

“We’re going to study couples, watch how they interact and talk with one another.” You blinked at him confused as to why watching couples would be a good use of your time.

“Why?”

“Your work is too stiff, I assume you’ve been in a relationship before now?” The air around you turned thick and it was hard to take in any breath as you stared at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish as you tried to think of something that you could say but your mind was blank. 

“No?” Genuine surprise laced his voice as he stared at you, someone as beautiful as you there was no way you’d stayed single for so long.

“I don’t see how that's important.” You grumbled looking down at your hands again, it wasn’t anything to do with him if you’d dated or not.

“Because your romantic films are missing something…and now I know why.” He bit back a smile as he watched you processing everything before sighing.

“Fine, but I still don’t see how it’s going to help-” You stopped as Seungmin came to the table, placing down a pot of tea and two cups before placing your favourite breakfast meal in front of you.

“You won’t. But it’ll help, trust me.” He smiled at you taking the teapot and pouring two cups worth out for the two of you.

“We will meet here every Saturday and go to different date spots, finding couples to focus on.” He said calmly as if that was the normal thing in the world for someone to do.

“Isn’t that stalkerish?” You mumbled looking at him as he stared back at you,

“It’s research, look at this couple.” He nodded his head at the woman and man walking toward the cafe hand in hand, you recognised Chan as the man but the woman was someone you’d never seen before. He opened the door for her with a giant smile on his face,

“Write down how they act together,” Minho told you, sipping on his tea before you frowned watching the couple together.

It was like that for months, constantly watching couples together, you’d fallen into a pattern with Minho spending almost every weekend and every night after classes with him until he told you that you were ready. Although he hadn’t been allowed to help you write the story or record he’d offered to watch the final cut which was why you were sitting on his living room floor dressed in a baggy shirt and some sweatpants. After the first few weeks of working with Minho, you’d relaxed around him, finding a pattern with him as you worked together but the lines between you began to blur.

On the weekends when the two of you would do your “research” you’d go to different dating spots and you could feel your feelings toward Minho changing every single time you were together. Tonight was no different as the two of you getting ready for a cosy night in to watch your final piece.

“You’re on your final scene?” Minho questioned as he sat on the floor beside you, placing a bowl of popcorn on the table and grinning at you.

“Yep, I think you’re going to like it.” You pushed some popcorn into your mouth and smiled, looking at your laptop screen as you readied the film to play on his TV and he watched you closely.

Ever since the two of you had started this endeavour he’d found himself falling for you more and more and yet he was doing nothing to stop himself, he was throwing himself to the wolves and hoping you’d catch on that he had feelings for you or they’d go away eventually. 

Relationships between a professor and a student were prohibited, the age gap between you and Minho was basically nothing anyway, a few years but that was nothing when you were both mature adults. As your eyes glided across your screen Minho couldn’t help but look into them, smiling when he watched you biting your lip as you concentrated on something hard.

“Want to know something funny?” You asked suddenly, pulling him from his daydream and making him hum in response quickly looking at the TV so you didn’t get freaked out by him. 

“I used to be scared of you for the longest time…” As soon as the admission left your lips it was as though someone had poured ice water down the back of Minho’s shirt. Scared of him? He knew he wasn’t the most approachable of people but the last thing he ever wanted was to come across as scary.

“Really?” He questioned, his voice coming out a little sadder than he had wanted, frowning at you a little before he watched you nodding at the screen not noticing it had upset him a little.

“Yeah, you were so blunt…cold but…but after spending so much time with you I’m realising that none of that was the real you, this is.” Your eyes finally met his and he was staring at you, grief-stricken as he watched you.

“You’re nothing like I thought you were and I find myself….missing you when we’re not together.” You whispered, the two of you inching closer to one another without noticing until Minho’s left hand was gently cupping your cheek and his thumb was gently running across your bottom lip sending shivers up and down your spine. Your heart raced as you watched him, your eyes flicking to his lips as you slowly wet yours desperate for him to make a move.

“Minho-” Your plea was cut short as he closed the distance between the two of you pressing his lips gently against yours as sparks flew from your body. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as your laptop slid onto the floor beside you and your arms moved to wrap around the back of your professor's neck.

Maybe it was wrong to be making out with him on his floor but if this was wrong you never wanted to be right again. You moaned out as he pressed you closer to him, your lips moving in perfect harmony with one another and your movie began to play in the background but it was ignored.

You pulled away breathlessly, your foreheads resting on one another as you tried to wrap your head around everything that was happening.

“None of this was to get you to be with me,” Minho panted heavily, looking at you as he licked his bottom lip,

“I really did want to help you with your project…I didn’t do this to take advantage.” He was starting to ramble a little bit and you let out a small giggle at how cute it was to see your once cool, calm and collected teacher now rambling and ranting to get his words out.

“I understand…Kiss me again,” You begged, pushing yourself into his lap and once again reconnecting your lips with his in a heated make-out session.

“You wanted to see me, professor?” You stated as you reached the front of the classroom, Minho quickly glanced around to check no one else was there before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against him.

“You look beautiful today” He said plainly, running his hand over your cheek causing your whole body to flame up at the small contact.

“Thank you,” You stuttered a little, you weren't quite used to all of the attention you were receiving but you were trying to deal with it all.

“We still on for dinner tonight? I was thinking of taking you to my favourite restaurant,” Minho told you as he collected his bag, slinging it over his shoulder before taking your hand into his own and making his way out into the corridor.

“Sure, but I have some studying to do first. My media professor set us a task,” You smirked before he tickled your sides. The two of you worked comfortably with one another and you moulded well as a couple but he was still your professor which meant hard tasks from him where he wasn’t allowed to help you - not that you would ever let him.

“Study on the weekend, I want you tonight.” He whispered before kissing your cheek softly and you both made your way out into the parking lot and in the direction of his car.

@chiisaiblog @sw33tnight @kaitieskidmore97 @laylasbunbunny @stayconnecteed @saymyspringrain @toplinehyunjin @katnisspeetaprim @acciocriativity @wolfgurl2600 @just-aelia @choisoorin@straykids5star @minholythighs @midnightfrog625 @beccaskz @compersian @scarletemeterio @alicejustwakeup @halesandy @junhannies @gothic4under4lord @lixie-phoria @soulphoenix1618 @aerastus @jin-from-the-block @peachyproductions @lenfilms @elizaschuyler18 @piratequeen-impact @kpopmenace143 @minhosify @loveforred

[taffywabbit]

idk if i'm way off the mark on this, but the way some people are responding to that Guillermo del Toro interview about the decline of studio animation is a bit frustrating to me. specifically the bit where he talks about "emoji animation" and how everything is over-animated and pushed too far and things are rarely allowed to not be ultra-cartoony (y'know, because animation always needs to be marketable to children who are never trusted to have attention spans, right?). like, i think he's generally correct about it! but some folks are taking the wrong message away from that.

i've seen people going off about how "soulless" and "corporate" various recent examples are, and talking about these pieces of media as though they're the result of some kind of personal failing or lack of skill/range on the part of the animators, and it's just like. do people realize that's the only animation you're usually allowed to DO in the industry, unless you get incredibly lucky and land yourself on a project/studio that's unusually cool?

when i was in college for animation it was literally drilled into us nonstop that everything had to be pushed more, that exaggeration was not a guideline or a sometimes-treat but a hard rule that always had to be applied regardless of what was going on, because the viewer couldn't be trusted to pick up on subtlety and we sure as hell couldn't be trusted to convey it. you ever wonder why there's such a specific vibe to a lot of self-directed student films, particularly ones that are focused on character acting/interaction or deep emotions and introspection (especially when there's minimal/no dialogue)? it's because for a lot of young animators, they haven't had the freedom to experiment with realism and subtlety up to that point and they're likely not going to have it again for a while (or at all, unless their career path leads to higher positions where they might have more creative direction over the things they work on. which also becomes a lot less likely if they're anything other than a cishet white dude, for what it's worth).

i would LOVE to see more nuanced, realistic, understated motion and acting in animation. i WANT more characters to be able to express what they're feeling through natural body language and facial cues and for scenes to allow me to breathe instead of spelling everything out in giant bold flashing text all the time. what del Toro wants to see changed in the animation industry sounds great, and i hope others join him in seeking to revamp what modern animation is allowed to be.

but as things currently stand, and as they've stood for a long while now, most artists doing the grunt work on the shows and movies you see are completely at the mercy of corporations and networks who have a vested interest in producing a very specific kind of marketable and cost-efficient media all the time. (and by extension that style is ALSO what's taught in most animation schools, because their job more than anything is to grind you down into a perfect little sweatshop worker who will bend over backwards to meet quotas and get your work approved and not question the higher-ups, even if you have little to no personal investment in the projects you're working on, so that the studios who employ you can maintain their good reputations or whatever)

anyways idk what my point was here, this really just sorta became a rant and my views have undoubtedly been coloured by my own personal experiences (this kinda shit is largely why i dropped out before my last year of animation school, for the record).

i guess just be kind to folks in the animation industry? they've had it fucking rough nonstop for well over a century (the majority of them are still not unionized and there's HUGE pushback against doing so in many places). i assure you they are doing their best to infuse the latest uninspired illumination flick or weird spinoff kids' show with literally any amount of soul they can. you don't have to like the stuff that gets produced by any means! be a hater! i'm certainly not gonna stop you. just remember where these creative decisions come from and why these conditions exist, and consider that when YOU watched something and thought "hmm that could've been done better", you can bet your ass someone actually working on it probably thought the same thing but couldn't do anything about it. these things WILL change as the industry itself improves, but in the meantime folks have to pay their rent, and that usually means doing what they're told and working in a way that will minimize revisions and meet quotas so they can keep their jobs. it sucks, but it is what it is.

[callmelola111]

K.O. ♡ e.w. oneshot

 ✄ - - - -   inspo track   - - - -   bull believer- wednesday

synopsis: as hours, minutes, and seconds count down till the new year, secrets are revealed and trust is broken. who knew the downfall of your life could be so freeing—and that a total stranger would be the one to catch you.

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 4.8k

      | ❀ | cw: 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, reader is in a toxic relationship with a man (sexuality isn’t mentioned in huge detail so feel free to hc however you like—they could be bi, pan or just a lesbian with very real comp het), coming out scene (refers to self as “gay”), heavy swearing, descriptions of intense violence + gore, cheating (bf on reader), underage drinking + use of marjuana (18), reader is called a slur (dyke)

a/n: hi hellooo, long time no see! **first, a quick disclaimer: this isn't realistic, there is a complete lack of morals and an unethical/dangerous amount of violence that i wouldn't condone irl. but alas this is fan fiction based off a M rated game whose whole basis is violence, sooo plz keep that in mind when reading.** anywaysss... i’ve been obsessed with this song for months now and it sparked a little oneshot idea so here it is. not exactly my usual stuff, more of a passion project as i process my hatred for men as a lesbian who used to date them. soooo i guess this one goes out to my small town comp het girlies who love ellie williams. thanks for all the support!! ♡~ lola

In the south it never really felt like a true winter. All the holidays that came along with it never felt real either. Christmas was dull and New Years was even worse. After spending the last 18 years of your life in a small hick town, it felt like no use to wish for some “better future”. You were damned from the start. Sure it was a new year, but it was the same old shit and you knew nothing was gonna change until you got out of this hell hole.

Just 6 more months of pretending, you’d tell yourself. 6 more months of bending over backwards to please your overbearing parents. 6 more months of mediocre sex with your shitty boyfriend that you weren’t even sure you liked. 6 more months of artificial conversations with your estranged friend group from middle school who claim to “not get you” anymore. But at this point, as every little thing ate away at you, you weren’t sure if you could keep up your act for much longer. Especially tonight, where you’d be faced with the challenge of appeasing all 3. 

December 31st, 9:00pm:

Adorned in a matching set of mint green pjs you sat patiently on your bed waiting for the go-ahead. Like clockwork, your parents gave a small knock and pushed open your door from its cracked position. It always annoyed you how they knocked, pretending to respect your privacy while simultaneously enforcing a “no closed doors” rule. You thought at 18 they would’ve let it go, but no. 

“Well hun, me and your mother are heading out now. We don’t expect to be back till the morning… Ya know, just to be safe while taking part in all the ‘festivities’.” Your dad chuckled, throwing up some air quotes. Your mom stood deadpan waiting for him to wrap up his little bit before butting in.

“No plans for the evening, right?” She phrased her words like a question but you knew this was just her way of subtleing enforcing the stupid rules you’ve followed your whole life.

“Of course not momma. Probably just gonna watch Gilmore Girls reruns and then go to sleep before any fireworks start up.” You gestured to your pjs but your perfectly made bed said otherwise. See, you knew this little routine like the back of your hand. You knew just what to do and just what to say in order to lure your parents into a false sense of security. While they stood in the frame of your door wishing you a goodnight, your party clothes hung on the other side of it, just out of their view.

December 31st, 9:30pm:

A loud honking blared from just outside your bedroom window. You ushered the sheer curtains open and glared out at the little sedan sputtering in your driveway. Your hands ran down your face followed by a big sigh. It’s not like you didn’t know your boyfriend Jax was coming to pick you up for the new years party that night, you had planned it just days before. But unbeknownst to him, the only reason you reached out was because you didn’t have a ride and tonight was one of the few times your parents wouldn’t be around to police curfew. 

You climbed into the passenger seat already cringing at the unidentifiable smell and litters of trash covering the floor. Forcing a smile to your face you greet the grimey boy sitting at the wheel with a wave.

“Come onnnn, not even a kiss? You must be real happy to see me, huh?” You grit your teeth, squeeze both eye’s shut, and lean in for a peck to appease his complaints. 

“Of course I’m happy to see you babe.” This was a lie. Something you had become quite good at these past few years, even lying to yourself at times. The rest of the car ride was silent, leaving you to ponder this drudgery of a relationship. You weren’t quite sure when things shifted or if there was ever an attraction at all, but after a year together and college approaching you just decided to ride it out until the inevitable. And part of you recognized the same in him, so there was never any guilt about it. 

December 31st, 9:45pm:

Alcohol was the first thing on your mind as soon as the car went into park. The door to the house was propped wide open, inviting in teens of the small town. Some top 10 hit boomed from a speaker nested in the main living area, not really your style—at least not sober. You scavenged the kitchen for a clean solo cup to designate as your own and began the journey to drunkenness. Jax followed in suit with a couple bottles of beer. The harsh burn in your throat lingered but the alcohol's effect was already beginning to take off the edge that was your life.

You attempted to initiate some conversation with the man who had brought you here but he was too busy texting to listen. So consumed with the glow of his screen, you couldn’t help but peek to see what was so interesting. As soon as you got a glimpse you wished you had been less nosey. His attention was not being stolen by a dumb Instagram reels, but actually, a long string of texts with a girl whose name you didn’t recognize. Your stomach pinged at his possible infidelity. Partly because he was your boyfriend but mostly because you’d spent months convincing yourself to like him, to stay with him, to be a good girlfriend—and he could care less. All this work and effort on your part was simply discarded with his unloyal behavior. It was all for nothing. But hey, maybe you were just drawing conclusions. It could just be a friend. Right?

December 31st, 10:15pm:

Jax had finally shifted his attention back to you before his screen lit up again causing you to retaliate in irritation. You swiped up the cracked device before he had the chance and began to scroll.

“Can’t you just silence it? What is soooo fucking importan-.” Your voice caught at the sight of flirty messages littering the screen.

“Are-are you fucking cheating on me?” You instantly questioned.

“Bro no! Give me my fucking phone back!”

“Who the fuck are you texting then? ‘Mary Jane’,” you spouted in a mocking tone, “no way is that someone's real name. You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“It’s a joke between me and my cousin. Now would you chill?”

“Your cousin?? You call your cousin baby?? I mean, I knew this town was full of hicks but I didn’t know y’all were those kinds of hicks.” The alcohol was giving you a little too much courage as your taunting waded into dangerous territory.

“The fuck did you just say? Don’t fucking test me! Can’t even handle a couple shots without getting all crazy on me!!”

“Crazy?? I’m being fucking reasonable. Literally any other person would be bothered by this just as much as me.”

“You know what, just fuck off. We can talk when you stop being such a delusional bitch.” He then disappeared into the living room, landing onto the couch, leaving you alone with your anger. 

December 31st, 10:30pm:

You stood idle, bubbling over with emotion, eye’s filling with tears when a wet sensation hit your upper lip. Its flow grew stronger and began to trickle onto your hands where your gaze was locked. Deep red stained your palms- a random nosebleed. It was like a sign from the universe. A sign that you weren’t crazy. In fact, you might be one of the only sane people in this whole damn town. Stuck in your reverie, blood continued to drip on your hands, your shirt, your lips- everywhere. That is until a kind eyed girl slipped you a dish towel to stop the flow. 

“Uh hey, your nose is bleeding.” You snapped your head up finally acknowledging the moment in full.

“Shit thanks, sorry…” Your face went hot realizing how long you had been just standing still, letting the blood fall where it may. The heat doubled, spreading to your ears when you finally acknowledged the person who had witnessed the whole thing. Ellie Williams. You had never formally met but knew of her existence, as she had kind of a reputation around school. There wasn’t anything inherently bad about her (at least in your opinion), she just didn’t fit the mold of most residents in your town. Therefore, she was a target for people's prejudices, especially being the only out lesbian in your senior class. Despite everyone else’s thoughts, you really admired her. You wished you had that type of courage.

“It’s no problem…” the auburn haired girl glanced down deciding what to say next before lifting her gaze back up to you. “Not to be nosey, I know you don’t really know me, but like… are you okay?”

Head tilted back, you gave a nasally reply, “Oh me? Yeah, yeah uh- I’m okay” 

“No offense but uh, you don’t look that okay.” she gestured to your bloody everything.

“Alright so I’m not okay, you got me.” You looked down to your now crimson stained blouse and scrubbed frantically at the chiffon material trying to reprimand the damage.

“Here, here– You can just take my flannel to cover it up, I promise I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?” Before you could say anything else, Ellie was sliding the warm garment over your shoulders and guiding you into the arm holes. It was dark blue, in a faded plaid pattern, and smelled of pine and incense. The girl was now left barren in just her white tank– and all for you.

“Yeah of course.” She then took it a step further, buttoning you up. You watched as her dexterous fingers worked up from the bottom of the shirt to the top, brushing you at each maneuver. A little jab into the plush right under your naval, a swipe past your ribs, and a tap at your collarbones. The quick, unexpected interaction left you completely flustered and you weren’t quite sure why.

“Thank you.” was all you could say. 

“Sooo… do you wanna talk about it?” At this point, Ellie was completely enamored with you from the way you handled yourself with Jax. She had this unusual feeling, a feeling like she needed to protect you. A feeling that you were different from most. Maybe you were even a little like her?

“Honestly, yeah. My friend Samara was supposed to be here tonight but I guess she decided not to show, and I’m starting to wish I didn’t either.”

“Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m glad you’re here. Come on now, follow me.” Ellie led the way to a set of stairs at the edge of the living room. You snaked right past the couch where Jax was drunkenly passed out, mumbling obscenities at his phone. Of course, he paid no mind to you. The idiot was too consumed with himself to even wonder if you were okay.

December 31st, 11:00pm:

You and the sweet girl sat on the rough carpeted step talking about everything under the sun. Ellie was the first person in a really long time who you felt you could be honest with.

“So you think he’s cheating on you?” she questions trying to clarify the few bits of dialogue she heard while watching from afar.

“I know he is. I’m not stupid.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” Ellie put her head down staring at the laces of her dirty converse. You felt so unreadable, making her unsure of how to proceed in the conversation. “So00, how do you feel about it all then?”

“I don’t know, I guess angry.” you answered with a remarkably solemn tone. 

“What about… sad?”

Like second nature, you instantly thought of a less than honest answer until Ellie’s attentive green eyes brought you back to Earth. 

“It feels like… I’m supposed to be sad, but I can’t. In a twisted, confusing way, I’m honestly kinda relieved. So fucking pissed, but relieved.” Ellie’s lids widened, this was an answer she wasn’t expecting at all–but one she was glad to hear.  

“I can’t blame you, he does kinda seem like a piece of shit.”

“And his dick is small too.” you quipped, making Ellie chuckle under her breath.

“Maybe I’m reading into things, but… it seems like you never really liked this guy in the first place.” 

You took a guilty pause before confirming, “Maybe…”

“So why haven’t you broken up with him?” Ellie was genuinely curious. She thought if it was her in the situation she definitely would’ve gotten rid of that Jax guy long, long ago. Who would wanna keep around a douche bag like that?

“Being with Jax felt convenient. He felt like my ticket to ‘normalcy’.” You put your head down in slight shame but continued the explanation. “I got so caught up in my image that I neglected how I actually felt. I was doing everything to please everyone but me.”  Ellie scooted in one inch to the left, now connecting your thighs and bringing in a sense of comfort.

“Trust me, I understand. This town is fucking ruthless.”

“God yeah, the things I’ve heard people say about you are seriously fucked up. I don’t know how you do it.” A beat of silence lingered as Ellie articulated her thoughts.

“I think… community. I mean, obviously most of the people at our school look down on me, but all it takes is one singular person to be right there with you and then things don’t feel so bad. I guess for me, I can’t imagine being anything but myself. Like completely myself.” The girl looked up from the hangnail she was picking at as she spoke and was met with your tear filled eyes. “Fuck, did I say something?”

Your hand shot up to quickly wipe away the floodgates threatening to fall, “No, no. It’s just that you’re right,” you stuttered, choking down another cry, “an-and, I wish I would've realized it sooner because these past 4 years have been like hell. I don’t wanna be the cookie cutter straight girl anymore. I just wanna be me.”

Ellie then placed a gentle hand to your knee and brought her eyes to meet your own, “And what might that be?”

“Gay. Like really fucking gay.” you said through teary-eyed laughs as Ellie joined in with her own hearty chuckle.

“Welcome to the club.” she said, sticking out a strong hand for you to shake. You grasped it tightly as her warm palm guided you up and down, her touch lingering just a little longer than the gesture itself. As you collected yourself you whipped out a small pocket mirror to touch up the smudged mascara littering your undereyes. Ellie admired in silence. She was in pure awe of your resilience, and when you were finished with your clean up, you turned back to realize what had just gone down.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for dumping all that on you considering we just met. It’s weird how things I’ve never even said out loud before can come out so easily around a stranger.”

Ellie nudges you with her shoulder, “I guess I just have that effect, huh?”

“I guess you do.” you sighed, nudging her back.

December 31st, 11:15pm:

The two of you continued your banter until a cold breeze from the back door gave Ellie a brilliant idea.

“Dare I say… you look like you need a blunt?” she said with a mischievous smirk.

“No, please. It's exactly what I need.”

Ellie then reached into the pocket of her baggy jeans, “I guess it’s your lucky day then.” she said, revealing the most perfectly wrapped blunt you’d ever seen.

“You’re actually god sent Ellie. How are we just now meeting?” The auburn-haired girl gave a small laugh before grabbing your hand and leading you to the backyard. As she pushed the white panel door open, every single ounce of weight that had been lifted off from that one singular conversation, all came crashing back down. Ellie and you weren’t the only ones who adventured outside into the brisk night air. Right on the porch stood Jax, accompanied by your “friend” Samara, who up until this point you didn’t even think was coming. The piece of shit was practically sucking her face off before the creaking sound of the back door sent them 5 feet apart.

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” you yelled, eyes growing dark with rage. Ellie just stood and watched from the corner.

“Babe, please! I swear it’s not what you think!” Jax stumbled forward, attempting to grasp at your figure.

“Don’t you dare try and touch me! You don’t even deserve to look at me. It’s over Jax. I’m done being suffocated by your never ending bullshit!” Knuckles clenched, you continued your lashings, this time at Samara. “I-I thought we were friends. What happened to that?”

“You don’t even like him. You should be thanking me.” she spat. 

“You really don’t get it, huh? This has nothing to do with me liking Jax or not, you completely betrayed our friendship the second you started fucking him behind my back. Friends don’t fuck each other boyfriends Samara!” Before she could even respond Jax was dragging her away, flipping you off on the way inside.

“Ellie-” you squeaked, trembling in shock. 

“Come here, it’s okay love.” she whispered, parting her arms to make a safe space just for you. You collapsed into the warm cavity and relinquished the buckets of tears you had been saving for the moment someone actually gave a fuck. And Ellie did. She never let go of you even for a second as you crumbled under her.

“Jeez I’m sorry.” you said after minutes of pure silence, lifting your head to meet Ellie’s green eyes. 

“For what?”

“For being a drunk mess, crying to you about a man, and also, I think I got a little snot on your shirt.” you tried to laugh it off but you really just wanted to disappear.

Taking your face in her palms Ellie reassured you, “hey, hey no need to be sorry pretty girl. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Besides, I think I look kinda good with this huge ass wet spot in the middle of my tank top. What do you think?” You stepped back and took a look at the damage, and honestly, she was kinda right. With the white cotton material you could see right through to her toned stomach, barely missing the bottom of her breasts. 

“Fine, yes. I’m sure there’s plenty of girls who’d kill to see you in a wet shirt Ellie.”

“Lucky you then.” she said, playfully nudging your shoulder.

You couldn’t help it as the corners of your mouth turned upwards, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“There’s that smile. Soooo… blunt now?”

“Yes. Blunt.”

December 31st, 11:30pm:

And just like that, you were halfway through the chestnut wand of herbs and deep in conversation.  

“So you really haven't seen But I’m a Cheerleader?” Ellie asked, blowing out a puff of smoke with the question and passing it on.

You took the blunt from between her fingers and let it rest between your own, “No. Should I have?” 

“Definitely dude, it’s like queer classic.”

“Oh yeah?” You cocked your head at the freckled faced girl. 

“Yeah. And now that I’m thinking about it, you’re honestly just like the main character.”

“How so?” you asked, taking another long draw. 

“She’s in denial about being gay for like the first 30 minutes of the movie.”

A string of coughs unleashed from your chest as you let out a hefty laugh mid-inhale, “Bitch-”

“What? I’m being so deadass!”

“Fine, what character are you then?” you pry, passing the lit blunt back over to Ellie.

Taking a hit she replies, “I guess I’d be graham.”

“And what does she do?”

“I’m kinda like your awakening in a sense. Graham is all gay and cool, and of course Megan—that's you—totally falls for her.” 

You retrieve the lit cannabis and roll your eyes, “I haven’t fallen for you yet Williams.”

“Yet.” she emphasizes, placing a soft finger to the tip of your nose tauntingly.

“Ha. Ha.” you monotonously mock, “Now here, I think it’s done.” You hand Ellie the roach and she promptly stubs it out into the concrete slab deck.

“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m fucking cold.” she pleas.

“Dude I’m scared. Like I am way too fucked up for this.”

“No, no– I promise you’re fine. I’ll protect you.” 

“Fineee.” you drag out.

December 31st, 11:50pm:

Things were seemingly fine as you and Ellie entered the muggy living area of the packed house once more. Your hesitancy was quite clear though and Ellie could sense you needed just a little reassurance. Your right hand, currently picking away at the hangnail on the thumb of your left, was quickly captured by Ellies own rough hand which led you back to your comfortable spot on the ascending stair set.

As you both took a seat your grip remained tight on the girl, afraid that if you let go you might jump up from your spot right then and there just to give Jax one more lesson. Just the sight of him through the slats of the stairs’ wooden railing—legs casually spread wide and eyes focused in on a casual game of Mortal Kombat—drove you fucking crazy. 

“Dude if you keep staring like that you might actually burn a hole through his dumb ass T-shirt.” Ellie said, nudging your tensed shoulder.

“Good it’s ugly anyways.”

“Fair point.”

“I just have this burning need to get back at him. I wanna beat his ass just like in that game he can’t take his eyes off.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Very funny, but you wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Oh yeah?” you questioned before laying a soft punch to the girl's forearm. A string of dramatic “Ows” reverberated from her lips. “See, I’m a badass right?”

“Fine you’re a total badass” she agreed begrudgingly, rubbing the soft tissue of her arm where you had left your mark. 

“What? It hurt that bad? You need me to kiss it better?” you taunted. 

“Maybe I do.” she said, longing eyes staring into your own. 

You gulped down any hesitation and felt it drop straight to your nervous stomach, “Where does it hurt?”

Ellie pointed to her arm slowly, “here.”

You placed a soft peck.

Hot breath raising goosebumps to the surface of her skin, “and here”, she gestured to her outstretched neck

Another supple kiss.

“And um-” she continued, but was quickly cut off and brought back to reality with the bellowing sound of a countdown. Too caught up in the moment, you both had almost forgotten about the holiday currently taking place.

FIVE… FOUR… THREE… TWO…

“Can I kiss you?” she blurted frantically, and with no words you dove into her plump, chapped lips. Just like a puzzle piece your bottom lip slotted perfectly between her own. It was a gentle and delicate kiss at first, drinking in the euphoric moment. Quickly though, soft maneuvers of the mouth got quicker and harder. Spit was exchanged with passion and need, as your hands were becoming grabby at the girl's toned figure. The heat growing between your legs was an easy distraction from the fact that you were at a large party, in a hick town, with your ex-boyfriend now hovering over your more than friendly exchange.

January 1st, 12:01am:

“The fuck? You’re a dyke now?” he yells, practically loud enough for the whole party to hear. You and Ellie frantically pull apart, bumping heads in the process.

The calloused hands that were once caressing the small of your back are now balled into tight fists as Ellie rises from her seated position.

“The fuck did you just say?” she questions, tilting her head to the right.

You now stand up with her, worried where this might go, “Jax you need to walk away.”

“Oh shut up slut. You’re so fucking desperate you’d do it with anyone!” 

That one hurt. That was the tipping point. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“I’M NOT A FUCKING SLUT! I’M GAY AND NEVER LIKED YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“You need to leave now before I do something I’ll regret, you dirty bitch.” he threatens. And that's it, Ellie takes a swing aiming straight for his nose. Her fist retracts and reveals his bloody and now crooked cartilage. Through clenched teeth Jax grips onto Ellies white tank, throwing her into the open space of the living room. Just like a car crash, it’s one of those things where a scene can be so disturbing but you just can’t look away. And everyone else in the room was feeling it too—backed into corners, hands over mouths, some men even obnoxiously chanting “fight, fight.” But this isn’t what you wanted. Not at all.

“STOP! YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT!” you screamed desperately. You didn’t even want to imagine what Jax would do to the freckled girl who changed your life in mere hours. But you didn’t have to, because here they were, brawling it out for the whole school. Jax swung at Ellie’s head to which she ducked before jabbing him in the stomach, stealing whatever air was swimming in his lungs. He stumbled backwards 3 steps, coughing through the hit, but this just made him angrier.

He charged back at the flustered girl with more force and gained a grip on a wad of choppy auburn hair. With a forceful yank she came tumbling to the ground with him on top. Ellie wriggled, pushed, and kicked but the sheer weight of the furious man was enough to keep her pinned. Jax began punching left and right, capturing her face with each blow. Thick crimson decorated his knuckles and the entirety of the girl's face. You could barely make out her litter of freckles and the half-lidded slits of emerald green—it was blood, all blood.

But as Jax kept on going, and the room grew quieter, this fight turned into something much more serious. It was inching on life or death and you had to do something. You surveyed the room, eyes dancing from counter to counter until a large glass beer bottle nagged at the tips of your fingers. Grabbing it tightly in your fist, you did what you had to to end this. Glass and gasps scattered through the room. The sharp brown shards littered the floor and evoked a gushing red stream from the back of Jax’s head. He instantly rolled to the side leaving Ellie an opening to escape. You weren’t done yet though, he hadn’t gotten what he deserved yet. Falling to the floor right at his body, hot tears streamed down your face.

Through curses and screams you thrashed at the man's barely conscious frame, “FUCK YOU JAX! FUCK YOU!” This was for every time he made you feel stupid, for making you feel like the ugliest girl in the room, for all the times he kissed you while you just prayed for it to be over, for making your life a living hell. With each scratch, punch, and kick all the pent up anger and resentment drained from your soul. Ellie let you have at him for a bit but as the crowd started to thin she knew the cops would be here any second now.

“Come on! We gotta go hun!” she nagged. 

“NO I CAN’T! NOT YET” you yelled, collapsing down into tears. Ellie promptly scooped you up by your armpits and dragged you from Jax’s limp body.

“I know baby, you're angry, it’s hard. But the cops are coming and we need to leave now.” she said, picking you up completely and carrying you through the frame of the propped open front door. You nestled your head into her bloody top as your chest still rapidly rose up and down, choking on the last few streams of tears and snot. “I’m gonna get you home love, don’t you worry.”

January 1st, 12:15am:

Finally through the small window of Ellie’s red truck you spot your familiar 2 story home. She grips the steering wheel, whipping to the right into the empty driveway. Of course she helps you inside and up to your quaint little bedroom. It felt weird almost—so quiet and still after such a chaotic night—and void of any life but you and the freckled faced girl. It was a cold feeling knowing you’d be all alone in just a few minutes, and tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a feeling you wanted to know.

“Els?”

“Yeah?” she answered softly. 

“Can you stay?”

With a kiss to the head she agreed, “Of course I’ll stay.” The rest of the night was spent cuddled up under your warm comforter, and despite all the events from just hours before, you felt safe. And for once, in fucking years, you were content.

✄ - - - -   masterlist   - - - -   ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

[mesetacadre]

(not the original "maga communism" anon)

tbh i'm not so sure the kke's analysis is not homophobic (or transphobic), i read their statement on same-sex marriage and it rubbed me the wrong way. i don't think it was an issue of translation

https : // inter . kke . gr /en/articles/The-position-of-the-KKE-on-civil-marriage-of-same-sex-couples-and-its-impact-on-childrens-rights-00001/

what do you think of the text?

I hadn't read this text, like I said my opinion was informed on conversations with two KKE militants. The text flip-flops between what I'd consider a principled (albeit rushed in the context of their material situation, marriage abolition is not a realistic position to take at this time) rejection of marriage and the state involvement in it, along with a good point that just legislating marriage won't solve the oppression queer people suffer, and between backwards ideas of parenting and gender. I do think they do genuinely not oppose homosexuality in itself, like they say, they express that they don't think two men or two women can adequately raise a child because of "motherhood and fatherhood".

In the original post you're replying to I did say that "I am not saying that the KKE is free from reactionary tendencies and that it's a paragon of absolute social progress, but just like it isn't that, it is also not comparable with crypto-fascists or glorified socdems playing into transphobic or racist tendencies." and that, in the context of communist parties in the past "Just like we can understand that an individual communist today may be insufficiently educated and express reactionary views and hurt people because of this, I think the analogy can be made that these past communist people and parties hadn't yet been sufficiently educated by practice and theoretical discussions. We can't ignore the harm that they did, but we can recognize that it was in no way necessary, and that it was counterproductive, so we can acknowledge those mistakes, carefully separate those elements from the rest of their achievements, and learn about them.". And I still think these two statements hold true.

The KKE is a historical communist party, one that did not follow eurocommunism. While I'm not intimately familiar with the makeup of their Central Committee, it does seem that their 100 year trajectory along with the resistance against reformism has made their leadership entrenched in excessively orthodox anti-western positions, and they do identify the connection between pro-NATO elements in the Greek parliament with advancing queer rights: "It is important to note that government officials, in order to promote the bill, resort to crude anti-Sovietism and anti-communism, linking its promotion to the further integration of our country into the "camp" of Euro-Atlanticism".

The KKE is still an extremely positive force for Greek workers, their capacity for organization is unparalleled anywhere else in Europe, and I'm certain that, if the sufficient opportunity presented itself, they would be able to overthrow the Greek government. And like I said in the other post, we can acknowledge that, as harmful and backwards as their stated positions are, we can't wholly reject their project because of it, and we can probably expect these positions to change as leadership is renewed. I believe this because one of these militants I talked to is trans, and they (using a gender neutral pronoun to protect their identity as much as possible) do not feel unsafe within the KKE.

TL,DR: Yeah, some positions in that text really suck and are homophobic, transphobic, and generally backwards. But the context of the development of the party and my communication with a couple of militants leads me to believe it is not hostile within their ranks, and that they will improve on this sooner rather than later.

[lesbicosmos]

day 7 of @chrisginnyweek !!

day 7 prompt: together

my interpretation: fluff. just pure fluff.

summary: the day after the play chris and ginny decide to go for a walk in the snow together

on ao3!!

i'll crawl home to her

“I always forget how pretty the snow is,” said Chris, her smile as sparkling as the apparent winter wonderland that surrounded them.

“Yeah, it really looks like something out of a fairy-tale,” replied Ginny, looking around.

It was the day after the performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream (and the evening the girls had spent in the forest with Neil and his friends) and they had decided to go for a walk in the park and enjoy the gorgeous wintry weather. The snow had fallen even more overnight, so the park they always went to was covered in a thick blanket of gleaming white, reflecting all light that hit it and making the surroundings glow. The trees looked like something from a painting, and it made Ginny wish she had brought her camera with her to capture the moment.

There were very few people outside due to the below freezing temperatures, so the two of them were comfortably walking through the park hand in hand. Well, they could barely feel the other’s hand due to the thick gloves they were both wearing, but the idea was there. The lower half of Ginny’s face was covered by a thick light blue knitted scarf, which Chris had definitely not laughed at when she first saw her wearing it. Chris didn’t have a scarf; the fur on the inside of her brown coat seemed to be doing a good enough job at keeping her warm.

“You know,” Ginny sighed softly, her breath visible in front of her as she exhaled. “I originally felt bad turning Neil down on his offer to go somewhere with him and his friends today, but as much as I love him, I’d rather be here with you. Just you.” She turned her head so she and Chris locked eyes for a moment.

“Really? You know I wouldn’t mind hanging out with those guys instead if you wanted to go and meet them.”

“No, I mean it.” Ginny squeezed Chris’s hand. “I love spending time with you. Besides, I think we had enough of the boys last night with their cave poetry.”

Chris laughed, shaking her head slightly in amusement. “Yeah, that was pure chaos. Todd’s poem was really good though!”

“It was, actually. Did you see Neil’s face as he read it, though? That boy is smitten, I swear.”

“Literally. That cave was so dark, but I could just sense the pining.”

They both knew that was a bit hypocritical given the two of them had been pining after one another for months before finally admitting their feelings. Ginny had probably spent more time staring at Chris with a lovestruck glint in her eyes than she’d spent looking at her any other way.

Ginny hadn’t noticed she’d zoned out, she was too busy thinking about all the time she had spent worrying alone in her room that Chris might never feel the same way she did about her, that she might not want to be friends anymore if she ever found out. She knew that realistically that would never happen - Chris was probably the least prejudiced person she knew - but there was always that dark part of her mind that kept asking what if?

She was pulled out of her imagination by Chris’s voice, but she was further away than Ginny remembered her being.

“Hey, Gin!” she called.

Ginny didn’t even have chance to fully turn around or reply before she was hit in the chest with a snowball, stepping backwards with the impact. She hadn’t noticed Chris had stepped off the path and onto the grass and was busying herself with the snow, apparently collecting ammunition.

“Hey!” Ginny replied, crouching down to make her own snowball to throw back at her girlfriend.

Chris shrieked as Ginny hurled it at her, but just managed to dodge it.

“Ha!"

What was originally a playful moment eventually escalated into a full-blown snowball fight, the two girls constantly picking up snow to toss at one another, giggling away to themselves like schoolchildren. It was the first time in a while that they’d been able to just let go and enjoy themselves, and both of them were loving it.

However, in trying to throw a rather large clump of snow at Ginny, Chris lost her balance and fell over, landing on her back.

“Ow…” she groaned as Ginny walked over to her, laughing.

Ginny stood next to her, looking down. “You know, for someone who ice skates you really do have the worst balance sometimes,” she teased.

Chris scoffed, faux-offended.

“I’ll show you bad balance.”

Within a second, Chris had reached up, took both ends of Ginny’s scarf in her hands and pulled her down so that she fell practically on top of her. Their noses crashed together, leaving their lips barely even an inch apart. Chris pulled the scarf again, bringing their mouths together. The feeling of their lips on each other’s was comforting and warm compared to the crisp, cold air surrounding them, and it made both of them never want to move…for about thirty seconds, at least.

“Wanna go home?” Ginny asked. “I’d love to keep doing this, but someone will see us eventually. And also my hands are numb, even with the gloves.”

“Yeah. This was so fun, but I don’t think I’m gonna be able to feel my feet for much longer.”

Ginny rolled off Chris and slowly stood up, regaining her balance.

“Come on,” she said, offering her hand out to Chris to help her up.

She took it, and they continued to hold hands all the way back to Ginny’s house. They walked even closer together than they had before, desperate for the warmth of the other.

When they entered Ginny’s house, they both wordlessly went up to her room to change out of their cold, wet clothes and into their pyjamas. Within ten minutes, they were sat on the couch in the living room, curled up together with a blanket and hot chocolates. Their legs gradually tangled together beneath the covers until eventually it became difficult to tell whose limbs were whose. Chris was lying with her head on Ginny’s shoulder, both hands on her mug of hot chocolate, and Ginny had one hand carding through short blonde hair while the other was busy propping a book open on her lap.

“What are you reading?” Chris asked after taking a sip of her drink.

“The Poems of Emily Dickinson, it’s an anthology of all her works. Neil bought it for me.”

Neil and Ginny had both bought each other presents for the night of the play. Neil had found the poetry book in one of the local bookstores and bought it, knowing Ginny had once borrowed a different Dickinson collection from the library and loved it.

“She writes about women the way you talk about Chris,” he’d sad after she’d opened it, and Ginny felt a a wave of joy wash over her, so intense she nearly forgot to give Neil his own gift.

Ginny hadn’t known what to get him so had decided on something with more sentimental value instead – she’d torn out the page of her A Midsummer Night’s Dream script that featured Puck’s final monologue and framed it for him. He got really excited after opening it, saying it was going to go up on the wall in his and Todd’s dorm, right next to the original auditions poster and a collection of photos of himself and the other poets with the Polaroid camera Meeks got for his last birthday.

Ginny had been far too tired to start reading the night before, and had only flicked through and marked the ones she remembered were her favourites by folding the corner of the page, but curled up under a blanket with Chris had felt like the perfect moment to get inside the head of a 19th century woman who had a way with words about life, death, nature and women.

“Read one to me,” Chris said, tucking her head further into the crook of Ginny’s neck and getting somehow even more comfortable.

Ginny seemed to hum in contemplation, flicking through her book, finally turning to a page that she’d folded the corner of and reading:

“To see her is a Picture,

To hear her is a Tune,

To know her an Intemperance

As innocent as June

To know her not – Affliction,

To own her for a Friend

A warmth as near as if the Sun

Were shining in your Hand.”

“It’s beautiful,” Chris said quietly. “Read another.”

And so Ginny did. She read Chris her favourite Dickinson poems, all the ones where she talked most beautifully about a woman – her best friend, but also clearly something more. She had just finished reciting Sue – forevermore! when she noticed Chris had fallen asleep on her shoulder. She laughed quietly to herself, then took the mug from Chris’s hands and placed it and her book on the small table beside her. She leaned down to press a soft kiss to Chris’s head before getting comfier herself, following her girlfriend into a warm, restful sleep on the couch.

[deepergrooves]

A Journey Through the Shadows: From Endtroducing….. to Action Adventure 

Exploring the evolution of DJ Shadow, his latest album and last months Vancouver show

Every artist follows a different journey in the pursuit of creativity but Josh Davis (aka DJ Shadow) has taken a truly unique and personal route by digging, editing and slowly crafting his way into focus in a way that had never been done before, using the work of others to create an entirely new sound. Having emerged from record store basements with sample-only bedroom productions and subtle but ear catching-ly emotive MPC edits, Davis defined a trip hop adjacent instrumental electronic hip hop sound as the flagship import and breakout artist for James Lavelle’s fledgling UK label Mo Wax. 

The track that caught Lavelle’s attention, a 1996 scratched up Shadow edit of Zimbabwe Legit encapsulates the sound he would go on to define with brash hip hop drums, eerie backing melodies, off key heart-string-tugging chords and comedy album sketches all mashed together in a pastiche of reference points that draw you in for a distinctive sensory ride.  

Since that release his output has seen a number of iterations and stylistic changes but grounded in an authenticity of spirit with Shadow refusing to be pigeonholed, choosing instead to define his own journey as an artist. 

Last month DJ Shadow returned to Vancouver for the first time in 7 years to showcase his latest offering, Action Adventure. In this piece I will explore his journey to this point, details of the show and delve into this latest release. 

'Endtroducing…..' expectations and the emerging from the shadows

There is often a hint of expectation from fans, myself included, when a DJ Shadow release is announced. Will he return to the deep, personal, introspective and sample cloaked 'Endtroducing.....' formula showcased on his seminal debut album that we all fell in love with? As time goes on I have come to accept that Davis is not somebody who looks backwards or feels that he is in service to the masses in that way. He once joking said ‘Fuck em’ when asked will the fans appreciate his stylistic changes post 'Endtroducing.....', but anyone who follows Shadow knows that he is deeply committed to searching for the most meaningful and truest expression of the culture, and sincerely and generously connecting with the fans who support his work. 

It may not be what we want, but it is who he is, and as time goes on it is what I am beginning to appreciate most about him and other artists who have followed this model (see Andre 3000’s recent left turn for example). It is this very approach that led to 'Endtroducing.....' after all, at a time when sampling was akin to stealing. A commitment to chasing what feels most true, new and innovative.  

On reflection, the nostalgia that surrounds 'Endtroducing.....' seems more like a longing for the feeling it evoked for any fan then a realistic outcome. The cords from 'Entroducing......' classics like ‘Building Steam with a Grain of Salt’ struck deeply. It felt like the album belonged to the introverts and night owls who longed for an emotional feeling or connection to music that can be found through the carefully selected samples, collaged to create a beautiful tapestry of sound. We were all experiencing ‘Midnight in a Perfect World’. 

Everyone has their own connection to the 'Endtroducing.....' record. For me it brings me back to the early Limewire and Myspace era, stumbling through Allmusic genres and file downloads in the wild west of the internet as downloading MP3’s became the new crate digging. My dormant, incubated appreciation for 'Endtroducing.....' was released a few years later when I heard it playing at a hostel in San Francisco and fell in love with it all over again and it has never really left my musical psyche since.  

UNKLE and authenticity

Post-Endtroducing, Davis continued to work from London and went on to collaborate with Mo Wax’s James Lavelle on the UNKLE project. The highly anticipated ‘Psyence Fiction’ album drew in a host of incredible names from Thom Yorke and Richard Ashcroft to Mike D from the Beastie Boys in a cartoonish, hip hop led, stylish, super group, hidden behind the two UNKLE characters and laying the blueprint for Gorillaz and other mythical groups. 

Shadow infamously left UNKLE shortly after the release with Lavelle requesting writing credits on the Shadow produced tracks and the two seeming to grow apart. Shadow preferred to concentrate on his own projects and collaborations with artists from his Quannum collective (affiliated with artists like Lateef the Truth Speaker, Blackalicious and Souls of Mischief who I recently profiled for their 30th anniversary Vancouver show) whom he felt he was neglecting by focusing on UNKLE. The story is covered well (albeit from Lavelle’s perspective) in The Man from Mo Wax documentary and the two have since buried the hatchet with Shadow performing at Lavelle's UNKLE Meltdown exhibition/festival in Southbank London.

Since leaving UNKLE, Shadow has gone on to release numerous solo albums primarily exploring the fusion of electronic and hip hop sounds, even splitting these genres across two albums on his 2020 release ‘Our Pathetic Age’. Until now I haven’t engaged deeply with his modern back catalogue, apart from a dip in and out for each new release and finding a standout track here and there. Having re-engaged with his work for a radio show celebrating his history I have found a golden thread and a new appreciation for the artist, music and man that is DJ Shadow. 

DJ Shadow returns to Vancouver Vogue 

Shadow’s live show has seen an evolution similar to that of his production career over my lifetime. My first Shadow experience, discounting a Shadow-less UNKLE show in 2007, was his incredible Shadowshepre Orb tour in a hotel function room in Galway back in 2011 where I was lucky to be handed one of a few mix CDs from Shadow himself (I hope it will turn up in a storage box some day!). I also attended the London ‘Mountain Will Fall’ tour in 2016 in service of the heavy electronic soundscape album of the same name which remains one of my favourite modern Shadow outputs.    

So on to this show. After a fast paced warm up from Holly which put the Vogue Theatre sound system through the motions, DJ Shadow took to the stage to a warm and appreciative reception. He gave a brief intro in which he thanked fans, asked people to be respectful of those looking for a phone free experience and acknowledged how privileged he was to be playing his first North American show in 7 years. 

Shadow opened with blade runner style graphics over his ‘Slingblade’ track from 2019’s ‘Our Pathetic Age’ double album. Track names were helpfully displayed over visuals throughout the show with a pre-set backing mix which Shadow scratched, and even drummed, over throughout using an electronic drum set that sat above his Pioneer DJ setup.

Shadow moved through a number of tracks from this era, dropping in some earlier edits such as an unrecognizable ‘Scale it Back’ production with Little Dragon, rarely tapping into 90’s or even early 00’s materials in keeping with his commitment to pushing things forward. There were some exceptions with UNKLE’s Richard Ashcroft collaboration ‘Lonely Soul’ receiving a strong reception and mixing nicely back to ‘C.O.N.F.O.R.M.’, a song featuring clever raps depicting the modern experience of technology and social media from a selection of Quannum artists. 

The standout moment for me was the dropping of the weighty ‘Juggernaut’ accompanied by striking visuals of dandelions and deserts in keeping with the deep, heavy drum patterns. Similar soundscapes and tracks were paired with some of Shadows' slower, high production value tracks such as ‘The Mountain Will Fall’ which followed an astronaut through a space of purple and dark red in keeping with the album cover for this title track.

Another section of the show went through some of Shadow’s more recent brash hip hop tracks with notable collaborations that keep some of the aforementioned depth of sound but with a contemporary hip hop outlook. Shadow rattled through songs like ‘Systematic’ featuring Nas, the fast paced ‘Rosie’, ‘Kings and Queens’ with Run the Jewels and Shadows ‘Holy Calamity’ production with Handsome Boy Modelling School, a project from one of DJ Shadows inspirations, sampling pioneer Prince Paul. 

Shadow gave a specific shout out to Todd Curry who he said may or may not have been in the crowd and had been another big influence on his work and his creative approach showing him the possibilities of sampling through his old mix tapes. He also called out the new single tracks ‘You Played Me’ and ‘Ozone Scraper’ on separate occasions. These tracks, among other singles from previous albums, were accompanied by their music video rather than curated visuals which took away from the incredible aesthetic of the first part of the show somewhat but not enough to affect the overall experience. 

The goose bump inducing keys of ‘Blood on the Motorway’ took us into an electronic interlude which brought a slight lull, and featured extended drumming from Shadow, but this pre-empted and set up a final lift with some big crowd favourites like ‘Nobody speak’, ‘This Time (I’m going to try things my way)’ and ‘Six Days’. 

For the encore Shadow announced it was time to ‘have some fun’ and launched into 'Endtroducing.....' classic ‘Organ Donor’ and recent hit ‘Rocket Fuel’ with De La Soul with Shadow mentioning it had been a dream come true to be able to work with such an iconic act before saying goodbye…until next time.

Action Adventure: A new direction inspired by forgotten cassettes 

Approaching Shadows latest release I had a certain amount of optimism but also the inherent and aforementioned expectations. The pre-released ‘Ozone Scraper’ was a big gear shift, even in spite of previous left turns, and sounded like a throwback to fast-paced, arcade-based, 80’s-inspired, retro video game soundtracks. Like the rest of the album it has grown on me but in my opinion this track is probably one of the hardest to warm to given its sheer pace and garishness. It seems an odd choice as the opening track but it could have been chosen as a statement of intent which it certainly is. 

The next track ‘All My’ is a standout, taking things down a notch but keeping some ‘in your face’ drum and vocal patterns with the repetition of the line ‘all my records and tapes’. A hint of softer keys comes in that really makes the track. It’s after this where I feel the album really shows itself. Time and space has a beautiful airy opening before bringing in some simple baselines and synths with hints of the arcade feel of ‘Ozone Scraper’ but with more depth and subtly that defines the overall feeling of the album. ‘Craig, Ingles and Wrightson’ follows a similar pattern and is equally hypnotic. 

Shadow was apparently inspired to make this album after buying a set of old radio station shows recorded on cassettes and there are nods to this throughout with the sound of tape decks and 80’s instrumentals. As Shadow describes in an interview on the ‘Q with Tom Power’ podcast, it’s nice to lean into the seduction of nostalgia for a while.

‘Witches and Warlocks’ is a strong track in a similar vein and ‘A Narrow Escape’ ups the tempo with break beat drums without veering too far from the albums aesthetic before the second single ‘You Played Me’. This song really sets out the new direction and sounds more like a familiar but forgotten single from an electro R&B group than a DJ Shadow edit. It has a beautiful balance and hook which Shadow apparently stumbled upon by playing the instrumental and vocal side by side by dropping the needle on each at the same time on his first listen, a technique he also used on one of his most commercially successful hits ‘Six Days’ from ‘The Private Press’ album in 2001.

‘Free For All’ opens with a cotton-eye-joe style country guitar riff and hip hop beats which has been a hallmark of Shadows post 'Endtroducing.....' work. It seems every album over the last decade has at least one song in this style and it is one which personally has been hard to engage with but works to a degree here, albeit a bit out of step with the overall theme of the album. Shadow has used a similar approach on past hit ‘Nobody Speak’ with Run the Jewels and ‘This Time’ where he states boldly ‘this time I'm going to do this my way’. I feel like somewhere in Shadow’s subconscious he has a desire to release a country album or song but isn’t quite ready to go there! 

‘The Prophecy’ slows things right down again with a haunting melody over deep bass and strings before opening up synths and tighter string arrangements. ‘Friend or Foe’ builds on that taking things back to the simple, video game villain motif. ‘Fleeting Youth’ and ‘Forever Changed’ are again really lovely and tender arrangements broken up by ‘Reflecting Pools’, a drum laden bubbler before ‘She's Evolving’ finishes things perfectly, incorporating lofty lyric less vocal patterns that interact well with the mid-level synths and and rougher broken beat. 

Overall it is a gorgeously produced album with just the right balance of nostalgia, weight and hip hop sentimentalities. I did wonder if the placement of tracks and ordering of the album would be better building slowly towards a peak and falling again rather than the quite swift shifts in momentum and blistering opening but who am I to question the master of texture and mood. This is an album that refines Shadow once again and clears the pallet after ‘Our Pathetic Age’s swipe at modern culture. A modern interpretation after a step backwards in time.  

End...tering a new era - the journey continues

During the recent live show Shadow mentioned that he thought about packing things in after the collapse of his ‘Our Pathetic Age’ tour due to Covid but it feels like he has been re-invigorated and has more to say and ways of saying it with this latest album and tour. All creativity comes with ebbs and flows but is lost when it ceases to be true to the artists intent and what they want to create for themselves. 

Shadows pursuit of his own sound whether through hip hop samples, 80’s instrumentals or ye-haw country riffs is his expression of what he holds most true and I think overall that to me is what matters most. I look forward to the next step in the journey. 

Download 'Deeper Grooves w/ Linchi: DJ Shadow special', a 90 minute mix exploring everything from Endtroducing..... to Action Adventure via the link below:

[beneathascorpionsky]

vent-ish? not like. super serious. just. thoughts

So a few days ago my grandfather asked me where I see myself in 10 years and I kinda struggled. Cause as a rule I avoid that. I avoid thinking too far in the future to keep myself from combusting from an overload of anxiety. I eventually kinda cobbled some kind of answer along the lines of 'well it would be nice to have a decent job and to have published one or two of my stories'

and that was kinda it until like. right now when i got in the shower and it came back to worm through my entire brain. i was like. Where DO i see myself in 10 years? And its a really hard question cause like. I can see myself in. a lot of different places actually

like one of the best ones I've published my books and they've taken off amazingly. I have lots of money and I buy a cabin up in Alaska and I go live up there to be away from everything and I write more books and I have money to fly my friends and family up to visit me all the time.

Or maybe I move upstate to a nice town I like, I have a job I can support myself off of, I have friends, and I write and maybe my books never make a big splash but I could be proud just having the strength to actually finish them and let them go out

or I could be dead. Yknow, car crash or I get sick or the world just. Ends. I'm gone. I'm in heaven and i don't really think you can goal project into the afterlife very easily.

Or I could be married and I could be really happy or my husband's job could have taken us somewhere I'm utterly miserable and I could have 3 kids that I'm dedicated to but try as I might I can't love them. or maybe I love them more than I can possibly imagine loving anything and I give up oh my ephemeral joke of being a storyteller and I'm happier than I could ever be even though at the moment just the idea makes me tear up.

Or. the most stifling and most realistic one, I haven't gotten anywhere. I'm still in my hometown, with a job that isn't' getting me anywhere, relying on my parents who love me but wanted more for me, too tired to open a word document much less string together a coherent plot. And idk. I feel like I hate that one most of all, but at the same time it feels like the most likely. Like Lot's wife I'm frozen in the salt, looking backwards and never forwards.

I feel like my default is just to say 'It's all in God's hands!"v but even that feels cowardly in a way. Let God deal with it, I don't even want to think about it because it's too scary. It's too hard. I don't want to do the work. I just want God to drop a job or a husband or a publishing opportunity on my doorstep cause I'm too scared, I'm too stuck to take any initiative myself.

uh. anyway. I think I can tell it's about that time cause my depression goes from mild apathy to I'm actually feeling emotions. wee.

[pixelbark]

Well, it's the end of March. So time for another development update! It's been a scattered month with a decent chunk of progress made! Now that I've afforded more time for this project, I decided to take a step backwards for a while, strengthen the existing systems, and outright rewrite some others. All with the aim of creating a more robust game for when it releases.

The Procedural Animation Month

The original plan was to have the Skeleton animated procedurally. When picturing the game I always envisioned that they would awkwardly flop around the environment, as a Skeleton probably would. I aim for realism here at Pixelbark, after all. This wasn't initially achievable in the Jam-tier time constraints I initially had but I've decided to finally give it a go.

It's been a lot of fun and I've learned a lot. The procedural animation itself is broken down into three main components: Walking, Looking, and Flailing.

Walking

Nothing groundbreaking here in the grand scheme of things, but it is the first time I've attempted anything like this. The system uses a combination of joints on the Skeletons spine, shoulders, head and neck to give a ragdoll effect, along with IK for the legs and a script that handles foot placement. The environment is generally flat, but it would actually place their footfalls correctly if it were sloped or uneven as the feet are parallel to the ground's normals. At some point, I can see myself revisiting this and making improvements but honestly, I'm pleased with how it's turned out.

Looking

A system has been added where the Skeleton can now look at Objects that they want to interact with, as well as, well, anything else really. It's rudimentary right now but I am excited to expand upon it and allow the Skeleton to start interacting with you directly.

Flailing

A combination of hinge joints and rigid bodies on the arms make for some good flailing. Add some baked animation when the Skeleton is walking to swing the body around and you have, if I can be so bold as to say, a very realistic and correct-looking Skeleton.

It's been a lot of work to get all this done since I was learning as I went. But I think given the nature of the game the end result has paid off!

But that's not the only thing ongoing this month. Let's talk about the new Interaction system.

New Interaction System (v3)

Those that have been following for a while know that I've had a bit of a struggle with the interaction system, whereby the Skeleton will interact with objects around them. The thing about this is, I need to get it right, it's the core of the entire game. It needs to be done in a way where it's robust and also allows the designer (also me) to add new objects quickly and easily. This has been a challenge, but I think I'm finally getting somewhere with it.

Here's a look at V2 in action, so you can see what I'm getting at with some of this:

See how the Skeleton "snaps" into the sitting animation? Feedback so far has been that it's fine but to me, it's a little too jarring. I want this lil' guy to feel as real as I can make 'em.

I've been trying to meet the following objectives with it:

The skeleton should seamlessly transition smoothly into the interaction

Remove unnecessary downtime. There were arbitrary wait times before and after each interaction. This was essentially being done to try and hide away some jank.

Animations should all be procedural where feasible to keep up with the ultra-realistic wobbly vibes.

This is still very much a work in progress but I have pushed the interaction system further towards these goals now, please excuse his weird jaw and rough placeholder animation.

Not too shabby I think! Still needs a little more work but I'm much happier living with this than the way it was before!

What's next?

Moving into April I want to finish this interaction system once and for all. I am also going to revisit the Behaviour Tree that Skeleton uses so that I can tweak the AI a lot, I want multistage interactions to be possible and this is going to require a bit of a rework over the existing AI tree that is in place.

After that maybe I can actually start making the game part of the game...

See you next thing!

❤️ Amy

My Littlest What Now?

Never heard of My Littlest Skeleton? Not to worry! Allow me to explain:

My Littlest Skeleton is a cosy and relaxing simulator where you care for your very own little Skeleton chum! Pull your unique Skeleton back from the depths of the Nether Region. Then help them fulfil their needs and keep their furnishings in top shape as they will degrade over time! The happier your Skeleton becomes, the greater the rewards! So make sure you take good care of them, because, after all, there is a Skeleton in all of us!

For frequent updates and to chat with me directly; I'm dotted around on the internet and always available!

Twitter ~ Mastodon ~ Newsletter ~ Discord

If you want to receive end-of-month updates, a free game, and a discount code for MLS when it launches, sign up for the newsletter!

[blue-opossum]

The Beach (and how dreams model REM proprioception)

        2 minutes and 15 seconds to read.

        Saturday morning, 31 December 2022.

        The Beach (and how dreams model REM proprioception)

        Dream #: 20,466-11.

        This dream's content occurs too regularly to include in online reports. Its causality is physiological and is unrelated to waking-life symbolism (or the naïve falsehood of "dream interpretation" or "astral projection" nonsense).

        I walk out onto a beach toward the beautiful water in daylight. The realistic sensations of my feet sinking into the sand an inch or two vivify my illusory experience. (There is no concern about the ground beneath me despite my minimal downward "sinking" sensations as I walk.) I try to decide if it is a small island or part of an unknown continent, but I do not continue with these thoughts.

        When I turn my head left and right, the scenery matches my movements, which I find fascinating (as in previous dreams). (I have engaged in this for over 50 years, but the results vary).

        Near the horizon is what appears to be a sizable white cruise ship. As I move out over the water in a typical “flying over water” event, I see that the vessel is (or has become) a section of plywood (with a cruise ship painted over its surface) about the size of the side of a car. It falls back away from me to slap against the water, triggering my wakefulness. I find the outcome amusing and fulfilling.

        Illusory proprioception and my vestibular-motor response to REM sleep (and REM atonia) correspond precisely with my depth of sleep, which often correlates with how far I am into my sleep cycle. There are variations in this response, unlike my first post-hypnagogic dream that has usually been the same for over 50 years (walking outside, one or both feet inexplicably slipping forward, and my imaginary dream body falling backward with waking myoclonus, modeling kicking even though I was only walking - because of REM atonia incompleteness).

        Other typical dream state modeling of this type of REM response includes walking in snow or mud. Walking on water also occurs (or sometimes something slightly below the water's surface, like a sheet of plywood). Myoclonus never occurs when REM atonia is established and stable.

        In my youth, I indulged in experiments of calling forth and running over the marshy ground in a dream with my dream self's eyes closed. The physical realism (including the vivid sounds of shallow splashing water with my footfalls) and sense of freedom and pleasure were incredible. When opening my dream self's eyes again, I would be somewhere completely different (and illogical regarding continuity), like the top of a tower.

        With this type of REM sleep response, the time spent walking (or running) from the previous day contributes to the dynamics and realism. This attribute is in stark contrast to flying in a dream's timeline (that has occurred every sleep cycle before I could walk in real life).

        As I have explained in a few previous online dream reports, the most vivid vestibular-motor drop I ever experienced followed a day in Busch Gardens Tampa Bay, when I re-experienced (in about the middle of my sleep cycle) the Log Flume drop in my dream without any imagery or locational sense.

        In real life, I usually feel a slight brief vestibular-motor drop after getting off an elevator - not usually unpleasant, only a curious sensation, and it does not disorient me in any way.

[thebibliosphere]

So I'm currently unemployed because I got fired for taking too much sick leave (it was legally sketchy blah blah blah but in the end I just can't work and take care of myself and investigate my mystery health problems at the same time). So I've been spending more time writing!

I really admire your writing and loved Hunger Pangs. I'm looking forward to the poly elements developing and I'm wondering if you have any advice for writing about poly. I've made one of my projects a snarky take on "write what you know" ... Apparently what I know is southern gothic meets Pacific northwest gothic, chronic illness pandemic surrealism, and falling back-asswards into threesomes.

I know this is a very open-ended question and I don't expect an answer, I'm just curious about it if you have the energy. As a writer, trying to write honestly / realistically about polyamory/enm, I'm curious if you have any thoughts on what's different about portraying monogamy or nonmonogamy in books, romance or erotica or otherwise.

I'm trying to read examples but it's hard to find examples that fit the niche I'm looking at. Excuse me if this question is nonsense, it's the cluster headaches.

I'm sorry to hear you've been dealing with all that and solidarity on the cluster headaches. But I'm glad you're finding an outlet through writing! And I hope you're happy with an open-ended ramble in response because oh boy, there's a lot I could talk about and I could probably do a better job of answering this sort of thing with more specific questions, but let's see where we end up.

There's definitely a big difference between writing polyamory/ENM (ethical non-monogamy) and what people often expect from monogamous love stories.

Just even from a purely sales and marketing standpoint, the moment you write anything polyamorous (or even just straight up LGBTQIA+ without the ENM) you're going to get considered closer to being erotica/obscene than hetero romances. It's an unfair bias, but it's one that exists in our society. But also the Amazon algorithm and their shitty, shitty human censors. Especially the ones that work the weekends. (Talking to you, Carlos 🖕.)

So not only do you start out hyper-aware that you're writing something that is highly stigmatized or fetishized (at least I'm hyper-aware) but that you are also writing for a niche market that is starving for positive content because the content that exists is either limited, not what they want, or is problematic in some fashion i.e. highly stigmatized or fetishy. And even then, the wants, desires, and expectations of the community you're writing for are complex and wildly varied and hard to fit into an easy formula.

When writing monogamous love stories, there is a set expectation that’s really hard to fuck up once you know it. X person meets Y. Attraction happens, followed by some sort of minor conflict/resolution. Other plot may happen. A greater catalyst involving personal growth for both parties (hopefully) happens. Follow the equation to its ultimate resolution and achieve Happily Ever After. 

But writing ENM is... a lot more difficult, if only because of the pure scope of possibilities. You could try to follow the same equation and shove three (or more) people into it, but it rarely works well. Usually because if you’re doing it right, you won’t have enough room in a single character arc to allow for enough growth, and if ENM requires anything in abundance, it’s room to grow.

And this post is huge so I’m going to put the rest under a cut :)

There's also a common refrain in certain online polyam/ENM circles that triads and throuples are overrepresented in media and they may be right to some extent. Personally, I believe the issue isn't that triads and throuples are overrepresented, but that there is such minuscule positive rep of ethical non-monogamy in general, that the few tiny instances we have of triads in media make it seem like it's "everywhere" when in actuality, it's still quite rare and the media we do have often veers into Unicorn Hunter fetish porn. Which is its own problematic thing. And just to be clear, I’m not including this part to dissuade you from writing "falling back-asswards into threesomes." If anything, I need more of it and would hook it directly into my brain if I could. I'm just throwing it out there into the void in the hope that someone will take the thought and run with it, lol.

I’d love to see more polyfidelitous rep in fiction, just as much as I’d like to see more relationship anarchy too. More diversity in fiction is always good.

Another thing that differs in writing ENM romance vs conventional monogamy is the feeling like you need to justify yourself. There's a lot of pressure to be as healthy and non-problematic as possible because you are being held to a higher standard of criticism. Both from people from without the ENM communities, and from the people within. Granted, some people don't give a shit and just want to read some fantastic porn (valid) but there are those who will cheerfully read Fifty Shades of Bullshit and call it "spicy" and "romantic," then turn around and call the most tooth-rottingly-sweet-fluff about a queer platonic polycule heresy. That's just the way the world works.

(Pro-tip for author life in general: never read your own reviews; that way madness lies. I glimpsed one the other day that tagged Hunger Pangs as “ethical cheating” and just about had an aneurism.)

And while that feeling of needing to justify yourself comes from a valid place of being excluded from the table of socially accepted norms, it can also be to the detriment of both the story and the subject matter at hand. I've seen some authors bend so far over backward to avoid being problematic in their portrayal of ENM, they end up being problematic for entirely different reasons. Usually because they give such a skewed, rose-tinted perspective of how things work, it ends up coming off as well... a bit culty and obnoxious tbh.

“Look how enlightened we are, freed from the trappings of monogamy and jealousy! We’re all so honest and perfect and happy!”

Yeah, uhu, sure Jan. Except here’s the thing, not all jealousy is bad. How you act on it can be, but jealousy itself is an important tool in the junk drawer that is the range of human emotion. It can clue us in to when we’re feeling sad or neglected, which in turn means we should figure out why we’re feeling those things. Sometimes it’s because brains are just like that and anxiety is a thing. Other times it’s because our needs are actually being neglected and we are in an unhealthy situation we need to remedy. You gotta put the work in to figure it out. Which is the same as any style of relationship, whether it’s mono, polyam or whatever flavor of ENM you subscribe to* And sometimes you just gotta be messy, because that’s how humans are. Being afraid to show that mess makes it a dishonest portrayal, and it also robs you of some great cannon fodder for character development.

Which brings me in a roundabout way to my current pet peeve in how certain writers take monogamous ideals and apply them to ENM, sometimes without even realizing it. The “Find the Right Person and Settle Down” trope.

Often, in this case, ENM or polyamory is treated as a phase. Something you mature out of with age or until you meet “The One(tm).” This is, of course, an attempt to follow the mono style formula expected in most romances. And while it might appeal to many readers, it’s uh, actually quite insulting. 

To give an example, I am currently seeing this a lot in the Witcher fandom. 

Fanon Netflix!Jaskier is everyone's favorite ethical slut until he meets Geralt then woops, wouldn’t you know, he just needed to find The One(tm). Suddenly, all his other sexual and romantic exploits or attractions mean nothing to him. Let's watch as he throws away a core aspect of his personality in favor of a man. 

Yeah... that sure showed those societal norms... 

If I were being generous, I’d say it’s a poor attempt at showing New Relationship Euphoria and how wrapped up people can become in new relationships. But honestly, it’s monogamous bias eking its way in to validate how special and unique the relationship is. Because sometimes people really can’t think of any other way to show how important and valid a relationship is without defining it in terms of exclusivity. Which is a fundamental misunderstanding of how ENM works for a lot of people and invalidates a lot of loving, serious and long-term relationships.

This is not to say that some polyam/poly-leaning people can't be happy in monogamous relationships! I am! (I consider myself ambiamorous. I'm happy with either monogamy or polyamory, it really just depends on the relationship(s) I’m in.) But I also don't regard my relationship with a mono partner as "settling down" or "growing up." It's just a choice I made to be with a person I love, and it's a valid one. Just like choosing to never close yourself off to multiple relationships is valid. And I wish more people realized that, or rather, I wish the people writing these things knew that :P

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough. I hope this collection of incoherent thoughts actually makes some sense and might be useful. 

----

*A good resource book that doesn't pull any punches in this regard is Polysecure by Jessica Fern. It's a wonderfully insightful read that explores the messier side of consensual non-monogamy, especially with how it can be affected by trauma or inter-relationship conflicts. But it also shows how to take better steps toward healthy, ethical non-monogamy (a far better job than More Than Two**) and conflict resolution, making it a valuable resource both for someone who is a part of this relationship style***, but also for writers on the outside looking in who might have a very simple or misguided idea of what conflict within polyam/ENM relationships might look like, vs traditional monogamous ones.

** The author of More Than Two has been accused of multiple accounts of abuse within the polyamorous community, with many of his coauthors having spoken out about the gaslighting and emotional and psychological damage they experienced while in a relationship with him. A lot of their stories are documented here: https://www.itrippedonthepolystair.com/ (warning: it is not light material and deals with issues of abuse, gaslighting, and a whole other plethora of Yikes.) While some people still find More Than Two helpful reading, there are now, thankfully, much, much better resources out there.

*** Some people consider polyam/ENM to be part of their identity or orientation, while others view it as a relationship style.It largely depends on the individual. 

[wizkiddx]

cONGRATS ON 500, you deserve it more than anyone😪 and 9 with actress reader girlfriend, i beg you maam <33

AHHH THANKUUU, i didn’t know with number 9 so i just did both oops :)))

Dialogue prompts 9 = "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me"

Kissing prompts 9 = Continued kiss, even after the director yells "cut!"

request something to celebrate my 500 followers!!! (but pls tell me what prompt list its from 🤍)

****okay so just pretend that tom and y/n are in something like the love actually ending bit at the airport which also just happens to be the last scene they shooting which ik is completely unrealistic*****

summary: change is scary and it makes you question the realistic future you and tom have

/////////////////

The atmosphere on the lot was almost electric. It had been a long time coming, three months of filming, but here the two young stars were - stood in the mock up set of Heathrow terminal 2. All cast and crew were buzzing, closing a project was such a moment, a pat on the back. And hell, there would be celebrations and a half this evening.

In fact they’d been on this ‘last shot’ for the past two and a half hours, even if the actual footage would most likely make up barely 50 seconds of the films runtime. But then, thats Hollywood.

“Alright guys one last time for me-“ The collective around the director all sighed and rolled their eyes, because this director had a talent for saying ‘ last one’ and meaning twenty more. “Nono!” He laughed, hopping from foot to foot “I’m serious about this! Y/n, Tom this is it, I want all that emotion right?”

Tom responded with a serious and professional nod, whilst you struggled just a little bit more - taking a long shaky exhale. Not that Jon knew, but you were already almost flooded with emotion. Today was a big day.

This job had given you something extra special, something above and beyond a new experience and memories. It had given you the most amazing time with one of the most extraordinary individuals you’d ever met. It had brought you a home away from home, it had brought you Tom. Yes, it may only have been 2 and a bit months - but that didn’t make the feelings any less real or intense for either of you.

Hence why the directors orders of emotion where a waste of breath. You were feeling it all- terrified, excited but mainly apprehensive.

There was a reason your love life had been so pathetically tragic before Tom- dating as an actor was hard. The invasion of privacy, the constant moving about - it was impossible when one half of the relationship was in that position. So what was the future prospects like when the both of you were in the prime of your careers? Not a fucking lot.

“Right, on your marks please.” The directors orders distracted you from the never ending runaway train of thought, with a nod hurrying round the back of the corridor, ready to walk out onto the concourse as ‘Manasi’ one last time.

The scene was a simple one, you come out with your luggage- running to hug ‘ Adam’ or Tom; jump and kiss him like hes the last person on earth. Although this was supposed to be the long awaited reunion between the two fictitious characters, what it felt more like was the real goodbye between you and Tom. And that hurt.

So as the clapperboard snapped, signalling it was time for Manasi to round the corner with an excited smile, you checked yourself for a second.

You could do this.

Rounding the corner, your eyes scanned over the sea of extras, skilfully missing the massive camera shoved close to your face. As soon as you locked eyes with TomAdam, everything else melted away. Without thinking, your legs started sprinting towards the young man, who had the biggest grin on his face and opened his arms. Forcefully, you jumped into his strong embrace, tightly wrapping legs round the back of his thighs.

No words were needed or scripted, as you arched back with either hand cupping his sharp jaw line. There were tears blurring your vision but his warm brown eyes were crystal clear as you leaned toward him, momentarily nuzzling your nose against the side of his before delicately pressing his lips against yours.

It all felt so intense, this never-ending rush and heart-dropping moment as the two of you moved in sync - not over the top or cringey. Just pure care, pure love and pure happiness as the two of you melted together.

Everything just worked. It was almost dizzying, the way the whole world seemed for fizzle out, suddenly the scenario was so non-existent.

Intoxicating was what it was, so much so though you heard the director calling ‘cut’ your brain chose not to listen. Desperately you held onto the moment with TomAdam for as long as possible, till Tom arched away, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you try and chase him backwards. That was until he noticed the way your eyes shone more than usual, the glint of the lights hitting the build up of tears. Instinctively he grabbed your hand and pulled you behind the corridor bit for privacy- not that anyone would’ve noticed, the crew were all to busy jumping around and cheering the completion of the shoot. And it was a cause for celebration, the project had been a little gruelling and it was a massive accomplishment to get to the end. But thats what scared you - the end.

“Hey what’s going on in that funny little head of yours lovie?” His voice was gravely and hushed as his thumb swiped just under your eyelashes, catching a lone droplet that escaped.

“I don’t want this to end.”

“ The shoot or…” He was insinuating the end of your relationship but it didn’t matter, the answer to both of those questions was yes.

Because they kind of felt one and the same. How likely was it you and Tom would be able to maintain romance on opposite sides of the world? At least when you were both tied in by contract to this specific location, it was possible. The two of you were possible.

So you only replied with a jerky nod, which made Tom let out a sharp exhale, before now cupping both your cheeks with his large and slightly rough palms.

“Heyheyhey look at me darling-“ Dragging your eye line up with a gulp, you were then transfixed into his mahogany brown irises, with little flicks of red and black. “You are the best thing thats ever happened to me. We’re going to be fine.”

“It’s easy to say that bu-“

“I’m saying it cos I know it!” He answered without missing a beat. “I love you and thats it. You’re it, okay?” Now your tears were freely spilling but they were happy tears - tears of ‘what the hell had you done to deserve the boy in front of you’. Only able to reply in a whisper because of the overtaking emotion, you just uttered 4 simple words.

“I love you too.”

His lips were on yours again but this time it was different. It wasn’t your characters reuniting in a kiss, it was the two of you, fears and worries exposed, being together. His lips moved slowly against yours because there was no rush.

You had all the time in the world with Tom.

~~let me know what u think, feedback means the world <333~~

tagging: @thefernandasantana @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @msmimimerton @thegirlwiththeimpala @hollandlover19

[celticcrossanon]

BRF Reading - 27th of September 2021

This is speculation only

Cards drawn 23rd September 2021

Question: How is Her Majesty the Queen?

Note: This reading was done before the NYC pseudo-royal 'tour'.

Interpretation: She is at the end of a cycle, reviewing her life, and stressed about current and future situations within the monarchy.

Card One: The World. This is one of two major arcana cards in the reading, and a dominant energy of the reading. The world card is about being at the end of a cycle, looking back to review the work done to reach this place, and taking time to celebrate before you step into the future. This is what Her Majesty is doing.

Her Majesty is reviewing her entire life as a monarch, with all the successes and failures, and reflecting on everything she has learnt and done that has brought her to this point in time: on the verge of celebrating her platinum jubilee. She is taking a moment to review and reflect on the past before she moves into the future, starting with the celebrations next year. She knows that she no longer has 60, 40, or even 20 years ahead of her, and she is using this time to reflect on her life as Queen and to try and distil what she has learnt into advice that she can give to her successors.

Card Two: The Six of Wands. This is card about the success of a project and celebrating that success. It can be the success of a project or achieving an important milestone. The card shows Jason holding triumphantly aloft the goal of his quest, the golden fleece.

In this reading the Six of Wands is the Jubilee celebrations for next year, a milestone celebration for Her Majesty. The Queen is looking over the Jubilee plans and giving her input for the public celebration of her years as a monarch. The energy here is of an activity that is relaxing and relatively stress free, so I think she is enjoying the planning.

Card Three: The Seven of Wands. This is a card of conflict, and the cards before and after it show what the conflict is about - the Jubilee and Harry (the Hermit card). The Seven of Wands can be about holding your ground or your position against threats to it. The picture shows Jason and his followers fighting with the supporters of his usurper uncle.

This card shows conflict, and the conflict is between HMTQ and Prince Harry. It concerns the Jubilee celebrations. Her Majesty has taken a certain position on this - most likely concerning Harry's involvement - and is fighting to hold her ground against the supporters of Prince Harry/Prince Harry himself, who most likely wants a greater involvement (like Jason's usurper uncle wanted to keep ruling the kingdom, Prince Harry wants to have his old place in these celebrations).

Card Four: The Hermit. This is the second major arcana card of the reading, so it is the second strong energy of the reading. The card shows the god Kronus, also known as Saturn, who we see today in the figure of Father Time.

This card has two energies. The first, minor energy is that of a sun-sign Virgo, as the Hermit is the card of Virgo. Prince Harry is a sun-sign Virgo. This energy of Prince Harry is tied into the previous card of conflict.

The second and stronger energy of this card is that of being alone, as the Hermit is alone, and of age and approaching death, as per the figure of Kronus/Saturn/Father Time. Her Majesty knows that she is at the end of her life, and the celebrations for next year may very well be the last major celebrations of her reign. She feels alone, bereft of support, as Prince Philip is no longer with her, and she misses him. This energy is of age, the death of loved ones, and mourning for them. I feel that her parents and her sister are also in her thoughts. Her Majesty is the last one left of her family 'group' - her parents, sister, and husband have all gone before her, and this makes her sad. She would have liked at least one of them to be with her for her jubilee celebrations (realistically Philip or Margaret), but that was not to be.

Card Five: The Nine of Pentacles. This is the card of someone who has worked hard and who is contemplating the fruit of their labour. The card shows the craftsman Daedalus standing and contemplating the result of his lifetime of work - the golden pentacles at his feet.

This is what the Queen is doing - looking over her lifetime of work and contemplating her legacy, soon to be celebrated as her Platinum Jubilee. However, the Nine of Pentacles is also a card about being single, and Her Majesty is recently widowed. The energy here is threaded through with sadness and loss. In the midst of preparing for her jubilee, HMTQ feels the loss of her husband keenly. She is reminded that she is once again alone, without the man who has been the rock of her long reign, and she feels this keenly.

Underlying Energy One: The Four of Cups. The card shows Psyche sitting between her sisters, as they gossip with her about her marriage and her husband. The gossip makes Psyche discontented with her married life, as she never sees her husband and gossip says that he is a monster.

The Four of Cups is a card of emotional dissatisfaction. It can mean being disappointed in something, or feeling disillusioned with life in general. In this deck, the suggestion is that those feelings arise from listening to gossip. It can also be a time when you are reevaluating things internally, and not taking any new opportunities because you want to be sure within yourself that they are the right thing to do before you pursue them.

This is how HMTQ is feeling underneath it all. She is aware of gossip, which here is coming across as public opinion/what people are saying, and it is bothering her. She is dissatisfied with how things are going or how they have turned out. She is rethinking or reevaluating her decisions as she is no longer sure that they are correct, and she doesn't want to proceed any further along a set path until she has worked out the right thing to do.

Underlying Energy Two: The Eight of Swords. This card shows Orestes trapped in a semi-circle of swords. On one side are the Furies, beings that torment him for murdering his mother, and on the other side is the god Apollo, who laid on Orestes the task of murdering his mother to avenge his father.

The Eight of Swords is a card of feeling very stressed and trapped, but that feeling is only in your mind. If you look at the situation carefully, there is a way out, as Orestes could walk backwards out of the semi circle of swords and run away from the Furies, but usually the person can't see the way out of the situation.

With respect to the dissatisfaction in the Four of Cups, HMTQ feels trapped and extremely stressed. She knows that the situation is causing people to feel very upset and vindictive (the Furies), and that this anger is directed at the BRF (the god Apollo). She can not see a way out of the situation, and that is the cause of her stress. The way out is likely to involve going backwards in a situation, and here the energy is of rescinding something that she has said, or taking back a gift that was made, and she does not want to do that as it is against her precepts of good behaviour, so she is blind to that solution as it is something that one just does not do in her eyes. The situation most likely involves someone or someones who HMTQ sees as trapped by their behaviour (as Orestes is trapped in the semi circle of swords), and she is unable to influence them into better behaviour (Apollo is looking very stern but Orestes is so stressed that he is not listening to Apollo), and so the anger at their actions falls on the BRF as a whole as well as on that person or persons.

Underlying Energy Three: The Three of Wands. This card shows Jason standing on the shores of a river. he has lost a sandal, and by that sign is identified as the rightful king. The usurper king, his uncle Pelias, kneels before him and offers him the crown.

The Three of Wands is a card about initial success in a venture. A project has been started and so far things have turned out well. More opportunities are available to you, and they will enable you to expand your current venture, but you have to go looking for them and that may involve venturing out of your comfort zone.

In this deck, the Three of Wands is my card for the line of succession - the passing down of the crown to the next legal inheritor - and it is this energy that is coming through here. HMTQ is worried about the line of succession. It is not an energy of confidence, but one of concern. This could just be a mother worried about how her son will cope with the responsibilities of a new position, but the energy feels like more than this. HMTQ is worried about what sort of king Charles will be, and how his reign will affect the future of the BRF. She has genuine concern about his ability to be a ruler and not second in command. I'm not getting that she thinks he is unfit to rule, but rather that she thinks his judgement is questionable at times, and that she thinks that he may make decisions that will not be in the best interests of the country and those decisions will come back and damage the monarchy, to the detriment of the future heirs, William and George.

Underlying Energy Four: The King of Cups. This is the card of a water sign person, particularly a Scorpio, and here it stands for Prince Charles, who is a sun sign Scorpio. Taken with the card before it (the Three of Wands), this tells me that Her Majesty's concern with the line of succession is focused on Prince Charles in this case, and with the future of the monarchy as represented by her heir.

Major Arcana Cards: The World and the Hermit. Her Majesty is aware that she is at the end of a cycle, and she is reviewing her life as Queen and looking at the results of her life of service. She feels very alone as she does this.

Dominant Suit: Three of the nine cards are wands, the suit of PR and of creative energy. In this reading, wands are coming across as how the actions of individuals within the line of succession are affecting the stability of the monarchy through their affect on the public perception of the monarchy, both now and in the future.

Conclusion: Her Majesty is at the end of a cycle, and she is looking back over her past in preparation for what is to come - the celebration of her Jubilee and, eventually, the end of her reign. She is enjoying planning the milestone celebration of her Jubilee, but with this comes conflicts with Prince Harry. She feels very alone and very single as she reviews her life's work and contemplates it from the perspective of being at the end of her reign. She is missing Prince Phillip very much in all of this. Underneath it all, she is dissatisfied, worried and stressed about the positions of various members of the family, and she is reviewing her actions with respect to those people. She also has concerns about Charles's judgement as future king and how that will affect the monarchy.

[piccolina-mina]

Our girl is thriving this season, but what the fuck is this Wyatt plot? I need your thinks about this one. I just knew you'd be six posts in on this by now. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

*sighs* For fk's sake, nonny. I don't even like talking about it because I get ranty.

What do you want me to say? Honestly, everything you can imagine I would feel about this, you're probably right. Because you know, I'm that b*tch always getting ranty about racism and stuff.

In short, I hate it. I think it's unnecessary, tone-deaf, random, pointless, lowkey offensive, and illogical. I legitimately find it triggering AF. And it doesn't make sense.

It's Unnecessary. There is a fraction of a chance that it will connect to something more significant, but even if that's the case, I'm confident that end result or connection could've taken place without this random reform racist Wyatt storyline. This series has struggled enough as it is properly utilizing all of its primary characters as well as providing them with decent screentime and arcs. It literally makes no sense to spend any of that time that could be used elsewhere on primary characters on a recurring guest star.

This isn't actually about Rosa, it's about Wyatt. Following up on the previous point, this specific arc caters to Wyatt. Revolves around Wyatt. Rosa is just a passive participant and vessel for this Wyatt storyline. So again, the arc itself is about a recurring character. At least when they did something similarly bringing back Cam to siphon time and arcs away from its main cast they found ways to implement it better and tied her to multiple main characters, so it wasn't a total waste.

The intended Wyatt/Rosa parallel is illogical. I know what they're intending to do with this storyline, drawing parallels between Rosa's experience coming back from the dead after ten years and trying to make sense of that and atone for things before and having this second chance to make things right and go down the right path and so forth and Wyatt losing his memory and his racist ways and having to reconcile with who he was to who he can be and all of that. I understand the concept they're trying to sell. It just doesn't work. Rosa's addiction is not equivalent to Wyatt's racism and violence. Her mental illness isn't either. It's dangerous to invite the comparasions with this storyline.

It's not successful redemption. True redemption is Wyatt knowing and remembering his actions and then trying to atone for them. It's not the convenience of amnesia wiping out his memory only giving him distance from his actions rather than really facing up to them. Because of the amnesia, to Wyatt, it's like he's hearing about another person. It's a cop out. He doesn't Actually have to do the work to redeem himself or atone or learn or grow. IF we're supposed to compare it to Rosa, she knew what she did and remembers and knows how she hurt her loved ones or whatever and she's actively trying to make amends for that as part of her program... a program that Wyatt isn't working or anything BTW.

They've contradicted themselves too much and are rewriting their own work and thus twisting everything up just to make this storyline work and it still doesn't. The timeline is all fkd up... what they established already all of it..The Longs were racist before Kate's death. Kate was racist. To suggest that a 10+ amnesiac blackout clean slates and erases all of Wyatt's racism is just wrong. As in it literally doesn't even make any sense. That is not how the amnesia works but they keep playing both sides of it trying to make it work. To sell us what they're claiming, he would have to have ALL of his memories wiped and have forgotten who he was completely.

Wyatt is behaving like he's shocked by racism in this town but they're also trying to argue that he was born into it. Wyatt was surrounded by racists and his friends come from racist families but he's acting like the very concept of him ever being ingratiated in it is some huge surprise. Wyatt looks affronted by things like Confederate flags. Wyatt being steeped in and surrounded by racism predates his amnesia period.

Kyle mentioned that line about Wyatt putting Whites Only on water fountains, and it sounded like a school prank. It also sounded like something Kyle was reminding Rosa of as if she was alive when that incident happened. Therefore, Wyatt was doing racist stuff before she died. Kyle would've been out of school by then so how else would he know that or why would he bother retaining it?

IF Wyatt and Rosa really were friends before (which holy retcon), then it makes no real sense that he would get psychopathically angry about his "friend" who does drugs getting into a car accident with his sister who does drugs. He would've mourned them both not jumped to severe racism and violence. But both he and Jasmine's family (who are MIA for all of this) did that... jumped to racism. So was Wyatt indoctrinated by his family or indoctrinated by message boards and shit? And if Wyatt and Rosa were friends than why was Kate such a racist bitch to Rosa?

They're backdrafting history JUST to make this storyline that we don't need with a character who isn't even a main one to work.

By not actually addressing that Wyatt has to unlearn racism and giving him an out through amnesia, there is the very realistic issue of that latent racism to come out at any given time. What happens when he's drunk? What happens when he's really angry at a POC?

Tying Wyatt's redemption with his clear affection for Rosa is again dangerous and irresponsible. I know we would all like to think that love is the way and through love it can heal racism, but that puts the responsibility on the disenfranchised person to be "lovable." Because if Wyatt WAS friends with Rosa once then that means the second Rosa did something unlovable she was just another *insert racist slur of choosing* right? It means that there's a possibility that if his feelings for Rosa dwindle or things go sideways in some way there's a chance that he could revert back to those racist ways. Loving Rosa(linda) and pinning all of his wanting to be better on her because of her makes his actively learning to be anti-racist conditional. Right now he's not doing this for him. He's doing it because of Rosa.

This entire storyline has placed the burden of forgiveness on Rosa, his victim. Without him ever having to actually make amends. It's this turn the other cheek BS that means there's nothing too big or harmful that can't result in forgiveness. It relies on Rosa and all that she represents to extend an inhumane level of mercy and grace to their tormentor and oppressor that was never once extended to them. It's such a consistent and problematic thing projected on disenfranchised parties that ONLY benefits the majority and makes them feel good. It's a narrative of meeting someone halfway when the playing field was uneven and the minorities are in actuality doing more work and making a longer trek. Halfway and meeting in the middle only works if both sides were even. They are not. It's the reaching across the aisle both sidesms when one side was clearly and actively more harmful than the other and than calling that peace and equity. It is not.

This storyline was meant to scintillate some viewers with this "what if" notion and teach others a meaningful lesson or be this poorly thought out gateway to exploring a complex storyline but it came at the expense of other demographics who actively have to deal with racist crap. And because of their problematic approach what is simply "just entertainment" to some who has the luxury of not having to think about it beyond that, is just gross and insanely triggering and uncomfortable to others. The others who deal with the reality of the subject at hand.

They wrote themselves into a corner with Wyatt so trying to dig him out of that no matter the cost or logic is absurd. This storyline could've worked better if Wyatt's racism didn't also include conscious, constant, extreme violence. But they spent all of this time making Wyatt the face of violent racism and now are trying to redeem him with no real effort. He wasn't just using slurs or making microaggressions. He wasn't some insensitive or aloof white person. He is a murderer. He has killed people. He technically murdered Liz in cold-blood. He knew she was in the crashdown when he shot up the place. The lights were still on. He beat up Arturo so badly he nearly killed him well after his friends even stopped. He attacked and intended to kill Rosa. And his handiwork was a constant thing, enough for Jenna to comment on it. And now we're supposed to ignore all of that because he has amnesia and has puppy dog eyes?

The fact that we can entertain (and for some succeed) Wyatt in all of his hot white dudeness' redemption after everything he has done slips into the inherent racism of society in the first place and is enraging. Because systemically and culturally and inherently society will bend over backwards to find a way to absolve a hot white guy no matter his actions. Flint and Noah couldn't get this type of redemption... So their intended storyline about evolving from racism STILL plays into the racist structures set up in society.

And because some people like it, there's this slippery territory of NO everyone who genuinely enjoys this aren't racist for enjoying it. But yes, this entire storyline and how it is playing out is at the very least racially insensitive.

In order for this storyline to work they would actually have to show Wyatt doing the work. They don't have enough time to dedicate to such a delicate storyline. It's been a C and D filler storyline with 45 second to a minute scenes. That's not enough time to explore this properly. We would've needed to see Wyatt returning home from the hospital. We would've needed to see Wyatt with his friends and it not feeling right and his discomfort. We would've needed to see Wyatt going through his yearbook and googling himself and the horror and disgust he felt. We would need to see this through his eyes. But we didn't have the time for that and we wouldn't have anyway because he's not a main character. We only get Wyatt through Rosa's eyes and they haven't even dedicated enough time to that for it to work. Rosa isn't conflicted at all. She didn't struggle to forgive him. She was reduced to a school girl with a crush and an insane level of grace and they just threw that at us with no buildup whatsoever. I don't know where Rosa's head is and how she got to this to place. Not really. And the only thing working about this is the chemistry between two actors who are allegedly dating so of course there's chemistry.

It literally feels like another instance of a favorite actor being shoehorned into a storyline just for the hell of it. Just because they didn't want to let Dylan go or something. Just to give him something else to do.

[solarwonux]

Beautiful Stranger || Minghao

artist!minghao x f!reader

w.c: 4.5k

warnings: angst, fluff, its a little suggestive, self doubts

notes: In celebration of my baby’s birthday I did a thing and I’m not sorry. Happy Birthday Hao!!!

Enjoy and let me know your thoughts.xx

masterlist

Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.

He prefers it this way.

Minghao realizes this after his first heartbreak. Then again after his second heartbreak. After his third, he decides to give up. If love wasn’t in the cards for him then why should he bend over backwards to reach it?

When he reached his twenties and everything spiraled out of control way too fast for his liking. He painted like his life depended on it because realistically in his universe it did. He got around using people for his pleasure and then left them out in the cold just like it had been done to him. Minghao didn’t have time for love, nor did he want it. He reserved his love for his canvases, paintbrushes, and different colors of monochromatic paints.

Then he met you.

His monochromatic colors were replaced by the sweet strawberry pink of your lipstick. His paint brushes swirled around his canvases to the melody of your laughter. Before he knew it a piece of you had infiltrated all of his paintings. Whether it was the exact shade of blue from the shirt you wore that day or the sparkling gaze behind your eyes that resembled his night sky.

He had fallen for you, for the girl that visited the university gallery every Wednesday morning to sit in front of his atrocious paintings that were unfortunately displayed as part of his final project before graduation.

At first, he never said anything, just watched you from afar wondering what thoughts were running through your head as you admired. Did you think his paint stroke pattern was lacking? Did you think he should’ve chosen other colors? Did you think his choice in reds was too dramatic?

Whatever you were thinking, it drove him insane not knowing.

He would pace for minutes before entering the gallery every Wednesday morning. Sometimes he hoped you wouldn’t be there so he could judge his own paintings in silence. His wishes never came true, as none of them ever did but it didn’t hurt to try.

“Are you stalking me?” You asked one Monday morning. After your fourth visit, you had noticed him silently walking around the gallery, sneaking glances at you from the peripherals of your eyes. At first you had assumed he was an art enthusiast like you, and admired the artwork that was displayed. Then you caught him waiting for you outside of the gallery one morning, only entering a few minutes after you had. It could’ve been just a coincidence that morning, but when it started happening more often it scared you.

So you changed your visiting dates. Opting for every Monday instead of Wednesday an hour later than your usual time. It had gone smoothly for a week until he caught on and that’s where you were now.

“Hello,” You waved your hand in front of his face, his features paralyzed in shock only until he caught sight of your hand. “Are you stalking me?

Minghao shook his head and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “N-No, I-I um...these are my paintings.” He shrugs and signals with his head around the four paintings that haunted him day and night.

“So, you’re telling me you’re the The8?” You ask in disbelief as Minghao cringes. There were days when he regrets choosing that as his pseudonym. After all, he was eight when he created it after coming home from his first art lesson. But letting go of it  would be letting go of that little boy whose dreams were bigger than his body and he couldn’t disappoint him especially not now.

“Just Minghao is fine.” He nods and takes his hands out of his pockets before drying them against his jeans. “Do you actually like my paintings?”

You scoff before rolling your eyes, “No I just like sitting here.” Minghao’s face falls causing you to let out a shy laugh before shoving his shoulder away playfully, “I’m playing with you I love them actually.”

“Why?”

“That’s a stupid question the The8.” Minghao rolls his eyes before breaking out into a smile as he waits for you to continue. “They’re not peaceful, in fact, I sometimes find them overwhelming to look at but they bring me peace.” Minghao’s cheeks have never felt hotter than before, his heart is palpitating at an uneven time. No one has ever described his painting the way you have and he feels like he’s going to throw up.

“That’s a stupid reason.”

Minghao is now painting nonstop

“When are you going to paint me like one of your French girls?” You ask, chin on his naked chest as you draw patterns against the ridges of his stomach. You have no artistic talent but you love creating invisible masterpieces against his skin. He’s the only one that can see them and he loves it.

“I don’t have any French girls.” He rolls his eyes before sitting up against your headboard and grabbing his discarded boxers and putting them on. “And that’s not the quote.”

“Alright Titanic enthusiast, let me live out my fantasy.” You joke and Minghao laughs as he lays back down bringing you along with him. You pout, “When are you going to paint me?”

“Who says I haven’t already?” He smirks down at you and captures your lips with his in a slow sensual kiss. You sigh against his lips and pull him close, “I think you’re lying.”

“Impossible lying is a sin and I am a child of God.”

“And here you are consummating outside of marriage, God is disappointed in you Hao.” You peck his lips one last time before sitting up. You stand up taking your sheets along with you. Minghao stays laying down on your bed like it was his very own. He watches you closely, taking in the way your skin glows against the light of the rising sun. The way your hips dip when they meet your thighs and he can’t wait to go home again to his canvas, monochromatic paints, and paintbrushes.

If he knew that meeting you would cure his unfortunate art disease he would’ve tried a little harder to find you.

Six months ago his mornings consisted of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible so he makes it to the university art gallery before you. Now his mornings consist of him rushing out of bed, getting dressed as fast as possible to bring you breakfast before you leave for your morning class.

Most days though, you end up pinning him against your front door before he could mutter a ‘good morning’ to you. He doesn’t complain though, he loves the way your body melts against his. Like you were made for him, and fuck he loves it so much he wants to die.

If he were to believe in soulmates he would think you were his.

Minghao’s parents find out.

When he went away for university Minghao lied and told his parents he was studying business communications. He wasn’t sure if they had believed him or if he didn’t care but he had spent four years studying art without their knowledge. He was living in a peaceful fantasy not sure when he’d have to wake up and tell his parents the truth. That their trust fund had gone to a degree where nothing was guaranteed.

He guesses that time is now.

Minghao and you have officially been dating for two months. And he decides to take you home for Christmas.

At first you had declined, told him that he should spend Christmas with his parents and that you were fine staying on campus alone until New Years. Your parents had gone on a couples retreat. It was needed they weren’t doing so hot for years now so you didn’t mind. Minghao on the other hand wouldn’t take no for an answer and that’s how you ended up with him hand in hand on the front door step of his childhood home.

“I should’ve stayed Hao, what if they don’t like me?” You practically yell at a low volume. Minghao rolls his eyes and brings your palm up to his lips. He leaves behind a reassuring kiss before ringing the doorbell again.

“It’s impossible to dislike you. By the end of the night they’ll probably like you a lot more than me.” He reassures bumping his shoulder against yours lightly. You stumble a little and Minghao pulls your hand to keep you from falling. His arm comes to your waist and he’s about to kiss you when the front door falls open. The two of you caught, the guilt rushing towards your faces as his parents stare back at the two of you with wide smiles.

“Don’t stand out there for too long, you'll catch a cold.” His mother's soft voice sounds and wraps around the warm porch light. They open the door further, Minghao’s grip on your hand gets tighter as he pulls you into his home. The warmth wraps around you like a protective blanket and you find yourself never wanting to leave.

For the remainder of the night until dinner Minghao doesn’t leave your side. His hand is on you at all times whether it’s on your arm, or appropriately placed against your back. His mother shows you around the small but big enough for their tiny family house, while his father finishes dinner in the kitchen. When the three of you reach Minghao’s childhood room you feel the tears brimming in your eyes.

His walls were covered with paintings he had made while growing up and seeing them displayed makes you feel proud. You see the improvement and growth in every single one as they’re sequenced by years. Your favorite one is the one he painted when he was thirteen. He notices you lingering on that one for longer than usual as his mother’s voice echoes off his navy blue walls. He never understood what it was about his art that made you forget the world around you, and you never once could explain why to him without changing the subject right away. He just hopes that one day he can get it out of you to understand your admiration.

“You like it?” Minghao whispers in your ear and it makes you jump. He chuckles as his arms find their way around your waist, the panic rushes through you at the speed of light.

“Minghao your mo-“

“Dad called her down to help, it’s just us right now.” He kisses your cheek and stays there before  trailing soft kisses down your neck. He kisses it lightly, the goosebumps appearing against your arms. “This was a mistake I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

You go frigid against his chest, as he continues to kiss down your neck until it reaches your sweet spot. “W-Why?” You move your head to the side, giving him more room. He smirks, sucking the spot he’s memorized like it were his color theory notes.

“I’m immorally thinking of every single way I can have you falling apart while my parents are downstairs.”

“Dinner is ready!”

You should’ve kept your mouth shut, that was a problem you always had and it never resulted in anything good.

Somewhere in the midst of dinner you had briefly mentioned your love for Minghao’s artwork and how proud you were that his paintings were being displayed at the University gallery. But you hadn’t known that Minghao had lied and never told his parents what exactly he was studying.

“We’ve been paying for a useless degree?” His father forcefully drops the fork against his plate, a loud clang sounds through the small dining room.

“It’s not useless, it's what I love.” Minghao fights back and stands up, “This is why I didn’t tell you, I knew you wouldn’t approve.” He pushes in his chair, hitting the table making you and his mother jump.

“Of course we wouldn’t, you’re never going to get anywhere in life with an art degree. I didn’t raise you to be a lowlife artist.”

“You barely raised me at all.” Minghao tugs at his roots, he sends you a glare and leaves the room. The tension evident in the room and you don’t know if you should stay seated or follow him. When you hear the front door shut and you go with the latter.

“I-I’m sorry, dinner was amazing.” You stood up and pushed your chair in carefully. You knew you should’ve stayed home, but that was before when you feared his parents weren’t going to like you. Now you should’ve stayed home because your big mouth was always causing trouble.

You made your way around Minghao’s house as fast as you could and walked out forgetting about your coat and purse.

The bone chilling cold gives you whiplash as soon as you walk out. Your eyes land on Minghao, his foot tapping impatiently against the snow covered ground. He’s looking at head into the dead of the night while a cigarette burns in between his fingers. You knew he smoked but he had reassured you it wasn’t a problem and he only did it to relieve himself of all the unnecessary stress. He had stopped though, when you had become his stress reliever instead, but now you were the cause of his stress.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t know.” You hugged yourself in a poor attempt to keep yourself warm. Minghao scoffed and brought the white stick up to his lips. His eyes closing in pleasure as he takes a long drag. “If I had known I wouldn’t have sai-“

“Sometimes I wish you would just stay out of my business.” He huffed. He flicks his finished cigratte onto the ground and crushes it beneath his boot. “You had no business in telling them.” He sends you a glare and shakes his head in disappointment. You feel the tears start to well in the corner of your eyes and you dig your nails into your arms to keep yourself from letting them go.

“I didn’t know. What was I supposed to do?” You throw your hands up in the air. You were frustrated with the situation and upset with yourself. This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go, but you always managed to ruin every good thing that came into your life. And this was no different.

“I don’t know, not say anything.”

“I just wanted to show them that I don’t care what you do because I’ll support you no matter what.” You sigh, a shiver goes through your spine as he stands up. You take a step back, the look in his eyes giving the bitter winter cold a run for its money.

“I don’t want it.”

Minghao misses you.

Since Christmas he hasn’t been able to paint anything. His mind keeps going back to the look of hurt on your face as soon as the words left his mouth. The tears that fell when you walked down the steps of his porch, shivering, out into the freezing cold. He didn’t run after you because he was afraid you finally saw him for who he was. Someone that was undeserving of your heart of gold. But he stayed and smoked two more cigarettes before walking into his childhood home.

Minghao hasn’t spoken to you in three weeks and tries to fill the void with his cigarettes, to let the poison smoke consume his entire body. Every time he finishes a pack in one sitting he feels even more disgust towards himself.

He wonders if he should call you and apologize for that night. His mind constantly tells him no while his heart continues to yearn for you. He misses your delicate touch burning his skin, he misses getting lost in your soft eyes. He misses your voice and how it sounds like a warm melody even when you’re upset. He misses you like crazy that he feels like he’s losing his life.

The blank canvas before him laughs at him, his constant frustration with himself grows as the night envelops his makeshift studio in his tiny apartment. He needs to paint. He needs one more painting before graduation, one more and he'll be out of the educational art cuffs. One more and he’ll be free to do whatever he wants. But  he just can’t because all he sees is you, your hurt, the greyscale of his cigarette smoke and the bright light of his phone as his thumb hoovers over your contact name.

He almost lets himself cave in too. If it wasn’t for the soft knocks on his front door he would’ve finally called. He feels the blood go up to his ears as he realizes the time. No one in their right mind would show up at his front door at two in the morning. Unless it was you.

He lets his feet carry him towards his door. Minghao knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up but had always been a hopeful kid no matter how many times his hope had been knocked down. He takes a deep breath, his long fingers wrapping around the door handle and he rips it open like a two day old band aid. Your tired eyes meet his miserable ones for the first time in three weeks and he feels like he can breathe again.

“I-I...um...come in.” He steps aside scratching the back of his neck. His hair was getting long again. He usually would’ve cut it by now, but you had once told him you loved how boyish it made him look. So he keeps it.

“I’m here to pick up my stuff.” You walk past him. Your oversized hoodie swallows you whole and he can’t help but want to feel your warmth against him. He stays put in his side of the room taking in your appearance, your hair was a different color, a lighter shade than the one he had last seen you in. He loves it. “Minghao my stuff please, I’m tired and want to go home.”

Minghao panics and he closes the space between the two of you, his arms find their way around you and pulls you close. “Don’t leave please, I’m a coward who’s scared and I lo-I-I’m just sorry for everything I know you deserve better than someone who’s never going to amount to anything but please for tonight don’t leave me alone. You can forget about me in the morning if you want, just not tonight please.” He begs into your neck.

Minghao has never once cried for another person,  not during his first three heartbreaks, not when his dog died. But the thought of losing you forever shatters him and he finally allows himself to weep.

After the initial shock of having him close to you again after missing him for what seemed like years. You hug him back. His sobs take over the dead silence of the night as you hold him, smoothing out the wrinkles of his paint stained t-shirt. You missed him more than air and although you were still upset with him. The two of you still had many things to talk about, all you wanted to do was hold him the same way he’s held you during moments of pure vulnerability.

“I’ll stay.”

Minghao is in love and he doesn’t know how to tell you.

His paintings don’t hang in the university art gallery anymore. They’re locked away in the storage closet in his apartment. All of them collecting dust, except for two.

When the two of you graduated. The art gallery took down his paintings to display the incoming freshman’s artwork. You had gone with him for  moral support as the two of you watched his most hated--your favorite paintings come down. It was a bittersweet moment for the two of you but you could tell it had affected him more than he led on.

“When I get my first paycheck I’ll buy one off you.” You whispered to him as he walked you back to your dorm room. Minghao stops dead in his tracks, his eyes brimming with unshed tears as he grips his two largest canvases in his hands.

“Why would you do that?” He shakes his head before closing the distance between the two of you.

“Because I love your paintings idiot.” You roll your eyes and hold the small canvases you were holding against your chest. “And I love you.”

Minghao’s world stops. It freezes and goes blank. He swallows slowly to make sure he’s heard you right, and when he notices your shaking hands gripping his precious canvases he’s positive he has.

“No you don’t.” He blurts out before he can think and he sees the hurt flash across your perfect features signaling that he has fucked up. He doesn’t know how to handle your confession. Everyone he has ever loved laughs in his face and tells him he was an idiot for thinking they would ever feel anything for him. He almost waits for you to retreat your statement but when you don’t he feels his heart against his throat.

“Fuck, fine sorry I said anything.” You scoff and turn around, walking as fast as you could to create all the distance between the two of you. You knew you should’ve never confessed, you knew he would never feel the same way as you did. You were chaos, too much to handle, at times to clingy and not even that good of a fuck to keep a man. But there had been a little pocket of hope in you reserved for Minghao and sometimes he stared at you for longer than a person should stare at another. So you took your shot. Knowing you could have possibly read all the lingering touches and stares and blatantly obvious signs wrong. That you would end up in another heartbreak but you had really thought your subconscious had been wrong.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, girl.

Wait, wait, stop walking.” Minghao yells looking around frantically and setting his paintings against an isolated light post. He uses all the energy he has left in him and runs after you. His shoes forcefully stomping against the cracked pavement. Minghao’s mind is running at miles an hour and the only thing he can do is laugh because of how badly he wants to kiss you. Tell you you’ve been the sole owner of his heart ever since the first time he spotted you silently admiring his terrible paintings all those months ago and paint.  

Is this really the life of an artist?

He’s an idiot, the biggest one on this planet but for the first time in his life, he’s determined to not let the best thing that has ever happened to him slip away.

You have no choice but to stop at the streetlight and Minghao catches up. His breathing is ragged, his fake glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, and his hands are shaking from the adrenaline surging through his veins.

He places his hands against your shoulders making you jump, “Minghao forget I said anything it was a mis--.” His mouth is on yours before you could finish your sentence. His hands travel down your back and he pulls you closer, crushing his paintings in between your bodies.

“I love you too,”

Minghao is nervous.

The day he’s been looking forward to and dreading for the past three years has finally arrived. His nerves course through his body like shocks of electricity and he feels like throwing up. When he met you all those years ago, the only person who encouraged his unachieveable dream, in the stupid university gallery, he never once thought he would end up here.

“Baby, are you ready?” You peak your head into the green room, the dark shade of red adjourning your lips catches him off guard. His hands itching to grab the sketchbook and pack of pastels he kept in his bag for moments of random inspiration. He refrains when he remembers he has people waiting for him. People who have gone out of their way to come to see him, his paintings and the opening of his highly anticipated art gallery.

You walk in and close the door behind you. You stand in Minghao’s path and he stops pacing.“I can tell Jun to stall for a few more minutes. He has the crowd wrapped around his finger with his terrible jokes, I mean some of them aren’t that bad but still they aren’t good.”  You put your hand against his cheek, your thumb soothing away the worry lines around his perfect mouth.

“How many people are out there?” He whispers and puts his forehead against yours. He thought his nerves were bad on his wedding day, but he’s sure this takes the cherry. He won’t tell you, even though he has a hunch that you already know.

“Last time Mingyu and your father updated me we had reached a few hundred.”

“A few hundred.” Minghao’s eyes grow wider than the moon, his nerves get worse. “I can’t go out there. What if they don’t like me?”

“Look at me Hao.” You place two fingers underneath his chin and raise it. His pupils are wide with uncertainty and you do everything in your power to keep yourself from laughing. Nothing was cuter than Minghao when he was nervous. “You always sell yourself short, these people fell in love with your paintings and I have no doubt in my mind that they’ll love you. I mean honey look at where we ended up.” You offer him a smile before leaning in to place a soft kiss against his plump lips.

“Yeah but that’s different. I was a nobody back then, no one had a preconceived notion of me then. I’m afraid these people might expect a broken artist with a smoking habit and that’s not me. At least not anymore.”

“Who cares what they might think of you, this isn’t about them. This is about you and your dream, don’t let the opinions of strangers ruin this for you.” You nod your head rubbing your thumb over his lips to get rid of the residue left behind by your liptstick. “If it makes you feel better I’m here and so are your parents and your friends. We’ll always support you baby.”

Minghao takes a deep breath and nods shyly. “Can you just hold me for a while. I want to be yours only for these last few minutes of freedom.”

“Minghao you’re making it sound like you’re selling your soul.” You giggle and fix the loose strands of hair that had fallen against his forehead.

“I’ll stay.”

Xu Minghao is a beautiful mystery that was often left unsolved.

Until you walked into his life and took your time to solve it.

[hauskaat]

stick to the script

So 2 weeks ago, I got COVID-19 while traveling back from Bali. Getting sick and being quarantined forced me to face some of my most uncomfortable fears, and since I had nothing to do but sleep all day, I really had a lot of time to think. I realized that I harbor some deep insecurities about being able to follow through. Most of that is tied to an insecure money mindset, but it also affects me in my skill-building and staying consistent with my commitments.

For example, when I start feeling insecure, I end up finding excuses to quit my commitments, such as jobs, classes, or other programs I’m a part of. I noticed myself doing this with my fitness trainer during the quarantine, as I started panicking about not being able to afford it, not knowing how long I was going to be out of work for. I tend to have this doomsday approach - like, once I hit a roadblock I project it into the future as if there is no hope at all.

This is a horrible habit to have! However, I’m glad I’m becoming increasingly aware of it. Hopefully, awareness can help me nip it in the bud. I will say, though, that not all of it is unfounded. Sometimes, it is a good idea to reevaluate the situation and be realistic as circumstances change. For example, one goal of mine this year is to get out of debt - particularly, the credit card debt I racked up over these last 2 years while trying to survive the pandemic. I have to be realistic about what I’m expecting to make this month, especially since I wasn’t able to work for half the month due to being quarantined with COVID. And if that means I need to cut some expenses for the time being, I think that’s ok.

I’ve been looking for more tools to help me stay aligned and stick to the script. I have a few goals this year, and since the year is more than halfway through, I think it’s a good time to reevaluate and see what’s not working and readjust. I set a goal to get myself out of debt, and though I have been making good progress, it’s just not consistent. I think I have to focus on not giving up. Like, if I take two steps backwards, but the next step is forwards, then I have to focus on that step forward, and not let the backwards steps discourage me. I found a new tool that I’m excited to try - it’s called You Need A Budget and I really think this might be a game changer for me. With other budgeting apps, they merely track your spending, but this one has a unique approach of assigning your income to various categories as it comes in - so you sort of pre-allocate your spending ahead of time. I feel like this might just be the tool I need to get myself to the finish line.

I feel this way about music, too. Looking back at these last 10 years, I had so many start and stops, and most of them were all due to myself. Nobody was getting in the way but myself. And I have to take full accountability for that. Every time I got close to making some progress, I’d get frustrated or feel financially insecure and start focusing on all the wrong things. I think about how I was learning so much and finally feeling on the right track when I was studying at Berklee, and how my fixation on fear of debt ultimately led me to drop out and lose the scholarship money I did have. And look at me now, 9 years later, in the very debt I was afraid of, and for what? Not even tuition, but for frivolous credit card debt.

I don’t mean to beat myself up - I just want to call it out because I think being honest with myself about my bad habits is the first step. The next step is to make up my mind to reach my goals - no matter how many times I have to start again. I’ve made up my mind that even if I have to crawl there, I am going to reach my goals. I know I can do it!

I’ve learned so much in this process, and I think it is all finally just starting to make sense to me. I have to push through the fear and insecurities, and remind myself that those aren’t real - those are just bad habits, habitual negative frames of thinking that my mind is conditioned to default to. But I can readjust to a new paradigm - one that views all of this as a learning curve, lessons on my way to acheiving my goals. As long as I stick to the script, I know I’ll get there.

xx