#he's truly seeing tess as her lowest

[fatescattered]

@indigodreames gets a plotted thing!

the occasional rough night calls for tess to pick up a bottle to forget her troubles – always in the comfort of her home or in her locked office. tonight, though, she can't bear the idea of being alone with her thoughts.

it's been exactly a year since peter died. tess likes to think she does a good job of dulling the pain and not think about him in general... but today, she sees reminders of him everywhere she looks. her home is filled with little things that make her think of her best friend, of all the years they spent together.

she hates it. she misses him.

she's not usually one to go to bars, but it seems tonight will be an exception. tess picks the one closest to her house without much thought, not caring whether she'll find someone she knows there.

" hey, " she offers a low-energy greeting to the bartender as she takes a seat at the counter. " can i get... " tess trails off for a moment, and then sighs, shrugging her shoulders in defeat. " whatever drink is the strongest. "

[hollymartinswrites]

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough, Mike Hanlon, Original Child Character(s) Additional Tags: Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Domestic, Light Angst, Family Feels, Childhood Trauma, Adoption, Kid Fic, Adopted Children, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Marriage, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Are Parents, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Minor Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Catholicism, Richie Tozier Has Issues, Extended Tozier Family, Medical Examinations, Stephen King References

Summary:

Eddie and Richie embark on the most terrifying experience of all—parenthood. Or, the author desperately needed a domestic, family fix-it for Richie and Eddie and it turned into a much longer, angstier exploration than I expected.

Chapter VIII: Richie begins to understand his daughter a bit more and reaches out for help.

There were a lot of things Richie liked about parenthood.

He liked seeing the world through his children’s eyes and experiencing things he had long dismissed as if for the first time (watching Lydia watch Star Wars was better than watching it for the first time as a kid). He liked the structure that came with parenting. It put his anxiety in check and, like the weighted blanket Eddie had given him on their first Christmas, calmed and comforted him.

He liked making his children laugh—loved it, in fact. Making Lydia and Tess laugh was better than making an audience in a thousand-seat theater laugh. And he liked laughing with his children, and was particularly fond of their strange, nonsensical jokes.

He liked the fact that though people complained about how it hard it was to raise kids today, what with all the rampant technology and kids growing up too fast, he was raising his girls in a time and place where having two dads wasn’t that weird. Sure, most kids they knew didn’t have same-sex parents but very few people actually gave a shit about it. It warmed Richie’s heart.

Finally, he liked waking up with the knowledge that he truly wasn’t alone anymore, that there were people who loved him unconditionally.

Of course, there were things he didn’t like about parenthood. He wasn’t crazy about punishments, though he was reluctant to just let Eddie handle those for fear of their kids determining that one parent was the nice one versus the mean one. He also didn’t like extracurricular activities, but he had the sneaking suspicion Tess wouldn’t be interested in as many as her sister was.

He hated germs and the knowledge that if one kid coughed, the entire house was under quarantine. When he found himself wiping down all the doorknobs with disinfectant wipes, he realized all his teasing of Eddie was unfounded. He had turned into Mrs. K. Gross.

He also had a very low tolerance for other parents. Most of them were entitled shitheads who raised snotty-nosed idiots that ran around without any boundaries or consequences. Eddie always teased him for preening so obviously whenever they were complimented for how polite and well-mannered their daughters were in public. Whatever, a victory is a victory.

And finally, Richie definitely did not like how little time parenting left for him and Eddie. He wasn’t stupid, he knew having a family would put their romantic life on the back burner a bit but sometimes, it got rough. Sometimes he just wanted a date night without worrying about the kids with their babysitter but it wasn’t like he could shut off his brain. And yeah, when Bev and Ben flew down, spur of the moment, to visit Mike and his new girlfriend in the Florida Keys, he was a little bit jealous. But then Lydia and Tess had asked for help with building a blanket fort in the living room and he realized, this isn’t so bad.

So no, Richie didn’t regret having kids with Eddie. He loved his daughters and couldn’t imagine life without them. And perhaps it was because of what happened in Derry that made Richie so determined that nothing would threaten his girls.

And if that meant hours of research and more long nights reading than he had done while in college, then so be it. If it meant he woke up every morning exhausted because he had been up half the night digging through forums and links and hints on the internet, whatever. The only thing that irked him about it was the worried looks Eddie sometimes shot his way. But who cares? Tess needed answers.

And of course, the name scratched on the piece of paper the nurse had given him gave no real leads. Whoever this was had no social media presence, not even a LinkedIn. Was this guy a fucking 90-year-old? Even they had Facebooks, at least.

Eddie turned over in bed and groaning, blinking slowly.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he grumbled, squinting against the light of Richie’s iPad which, to be fair, was on the lowest setting.

“Reading,” Richie replied. “Go back to sleep.”

“You need to go to sleep to begin with,” Eddie yawned. “What fucking time is it?

Richie glanced at the time at the top right corner of the screen and winced.

“1:32,” he admitted.

“What the fuck,” Eddie said, reaching for his iPad. “That’s enough.”

“Eds, no, wait—”

“It’ll be there when you use it tomorrow morning,” Eddie replied, taking the iPad out of his hands and closing the cover. He placed it on the nightstand and wrapped his arm around Richie’s middle, causing Richie to wince once again. He had definitely gained some weight but stress-eating in the middle of the night will do that to a middle-aged man.

“Come on, lay down,” Eddie said softly. “Relax.”

“I can’t.”

Eddie sighed and maneuvered his head onto Richie’s chest.

“Tess has been fine,” he admitted gently. “No seizures, no bad dreams, no mentioning of anything out of our past for over a week. You can relax for one night, Rich.”

Richie swallowed and gazed up at the ceiling. He knew Eddie could easily feel his heart beating rapidly and he wondered, not for the first time, just how much he frustrated his husband. Suddenly, Eddie turned his head and kissed Richie’s chest, right above his heart. Richie looked down at him and was suddenly struck with the thought of how amazing it was to be laying here, in this house, with Eddie in his arms.

“Come on, love,” Eddie whispered, “try to get some rest with me, hm?”

Richie nodded and laid back.

“Alright,” he said gently. “Whatever you say, Eds.”

Pulling up to the preschool in the early afternoon always filled Richie with relief. Not for the first time, he reflected on how grateful he was that in their school district, kindergarten was also only a half-day. He had no idea how he would handle Tess going into first grade and having both girls gone all fucking day, the house empty and silent. What the fuck was he gonna do with his time?

Richie parked the car and stepped out, his hands in his pockets. He could write more, he guessed, maybe even take Eddie’s advice and try his hand at essays (“You could be the next David Sedaris, Rich,” Eddie had insisted one day. Richie thought he was being a bit too kind but whatever).

Maybe he’d start hanging out with those stay-at-home moms who spend their free time drinking white wine, going to Zumba, and annoying their friends with pyramid schemes. He could charm his way into that group, couldn’t he?

Richie opened the door to the preschool and was greeted by the sound of children playing, a few whining, one crying, and teachers trying to maintain a semblance of order. He greeted one or two that he knew, along with saying hi to a couple kids from the neighborhood before spotting Tess, pouting in a seat.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said happily. “What’s going on?”

She said nothing, just looked down at her hands as one teacher, Miss Lisa, approached the two of them.

“Do you want to tell your dad what color you got today?” she asked Tess pointedly.

Richie frowned. The fucking color system. Tess always had green next to her name but from the look on her face plus the tone of Miss Lisa’s voice, he knew things were bad.

“What color did you get?” he asked gently.

Tess merely looked away and wrapped her arms around her knees. He turned toward the teacher.

“Yellow,” she replied, “for not listening and talking back.”

Richie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“That doesn’t sound like you, Tess,” he said. He crouched down to her level. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you listen?” She remained silent, still avoiding her father’s gaze. “Tess, look at me.”

She glanced over and bit her lip before looking back down at her lap. She shrugged once. Richie sighed and straightened.

“Go get your jacket and backpack. We’ll talk about this at home,” he said. She took off for her cubby. He turned back to the teacher. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” she said, “all kids have days like this. It was just surprising from Tess, that’s all.”

Richie nodded and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to her,” he offered lamely.

Miss Lisa nodded and then took a step closer to Richie, lowering her voice.

“Does Tess talk about her imaginary friend at home?” she asked.

Richie froze, and he briefly wondered if she could tell that the rictus smile on his face was false.

“Sometimes,” he breathed.

She nodded.

“That’s what the issue was today,” she said. “She was too busy playing with her imaginary friend to listen and then talked back when we tried to get her to focus. She’s quite protective of this friend.”

“Right.”

She must’ve thought Richie was upset because she quickly explained, “Most of the kids here have imaginary friends, it’s totally normal. It’s just that when they use them as an excuse to break the rules, we have an issue.”

“Of course,” Richie said blankly.

Miss Lisa smiled reassuringly as Tess arrived with her jacket and backpack and a pout still on her face.

“Come on, kiddo,” Richie said, leaning toward to take her hand. “Say goodbye and apologize.”

“Bye, Miss Lisa,” she muttered, looking down at her shoes. “Sorry.”

“Thank you, Tess,” the teacher replied gently. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Richie and Tess walked out of the preschool silently.

He sat at the kitchen table beside his daughter. She was in a much better mood now that she was home and eating apple slices coated in peanut butter. Richie took a moment to memorize how content she looked before opening his mouth.

“Listen, kiddo, I gotta ask, why weren’t you paying attention in school today?”

Tess shrugged and munched on another slice.

“You know you’re not supposed to do that,” he continued. “And you’re such a good student. You know better.”

She frowned briefly and nodded. Richie wiped a hand over his face as he sighed. Fuck, this was harder than he thought.

“Your job at school is to listen to the teachers,” he explained, feeling like the world’s biggest hypocrite, positive that when he tells this story to his parents, they’ll laugh for hours. “You know that. And you don’t talk back. That’s not like you at all.”

“I know,” Tess mumbled, sounding very near tears and sending a stab through Richie’s heart.

“Baby, you’re not in trouble,” he said quickly. “You just...learned a lesson today, right?”

She nodded and sniffed.

“Oh, come here,” he murmured, immediately taking her into his arms and pulling her onto his lap. He kissed the top of her head repeatedly. “It’s okay, kiddo. You had an off day. It happens to everyone. Even me.”

“Yeah?” she asked, muffled from hiding her face in his chest.

“Yeah,” Richie insisted. “I have them all the time.”

She turned her head and rested it against her father’s heart. Richie tightened his arms around her and allowed himself some time to just enjoy. But he had to find out more.

“Tess, baby,” he said softly, “do you have an imaginary friend?”

She hesitated every so slightly before nodded.

“She’s real,” she insisted.

“I know,” Richie replied, swallowing. “What’s her name.”

“Abracadabra,” she admitted after a moment’s pause. Richie frowned. Sounded like a regular imaginary friend’s name. Maybe this had nothing to do with...everything else.

“Sounds cool,” he said, trying to keep his voice light. “Do you guys play together a lot?”

“No, only sometimes.”

“But you guys played today?”

“Yeah,” Tess admitted, wiping at her nose. “She only stayed for a little.”

“What do you guys like to play?”

Tess shrugged.

“She just shows me stuff.”

Richie tightened his grip on his daughter.

“Like what?” he whispered.

“My shine.”

“Shine? What’s that?”

Tess sat back in her father’s lap and gazed up at him, confused.

“My magic,” she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Your magic that...helps you see things? Like me and Daddy as little boys?” Richie asked slowly.

She nodded.

“What does she show you?”

Tess hesitated, then tilted her head to the side, and raised one hand to rest along her father’s face. All at once, the air rushed out of Richie’s lungs, as if he was in a vacuum. He was no longer in their kitchen, but everywhere at once, flashes of memories and images swirling past his eyes like trees when you speed down the highway.

He caught glimpses of himself as a child, Eddie with his broken arm, Bowers shouting at him in the arcade, stepping on stage and bombing, Edding kissing Myra in City Hall, Neibolt collapsing, Eddie pale and coughing up blood, screams and tears and laughter, Tess as a baby—before he had ever known her, Lydia pushing her sister to the ground in frustration, Richie and Eddie arguing—unaware that both girls could hear them, the Losers overwhelming Tess with their hugs and kisses when they first met her, Richie floating, the MRI machine. All of it streamed past in a dizzying smear of color and sound until, like water in a drain, it circled into a box and abruptly, a hand came down and slammed it shut.

Richie blinked. He was back in his kitchen with his daughter in his arms, her hands folded delicately in her lap.

He gasped, his chest heaving, tears running down his face. He gazed down, slack-jawed, at his daughter, who suddenly looked so much older and wiser beyond her four years.

“She shows me how to stop it,” she said plainly.

“Mikey, I need your help,” Richie said quickly, barely able to catch his breath.

“What? What is it? Are you okay?” Mike responded just as quickly.

“I’m fine, we’re all fine,” Richie replied. “I just need your help in doing some research.”

Mike hesitated. Richie bit his lip and tightened his grip on the phone.

“Is this about Tess?” Mike finally asked.

“Yeah.”

“Richie, I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mike admitted softly. “I mean, I’ve been doing some thinking and maybe Eddie’s right. Maybe this is all crazy.”

“It’s not, though,” Richie said firmly. “It’s not because I fucking saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“Everything,” he blurted out. “Her ability to see things that have happened fucking years ago. I saw it. She showed me.”

“How?” Mike asked and Richie could just picture the cautiously curious look on his face.

“She fucking put her hand on my face and, I don’t know, transferred it,” he said, realizing quickly how insane he sounded. “I’m telling you the truth.”

Mike was silent once again but Richie didn’t have time for it.

“I need your help finding the girl in the articles you sent me,” he continued. “They protected her identity but I need to find her.”

“Richie, how the hell am I supposed to—”

“I don’t know, but that’s what you do, right? Research,” Richie reminded him.

Mike sighed.

“And what are you gonna do if I find her real name and info?” he asked tentatively.

“Talk to her,” Richie said. “I’m not gonna show up at her house but maybe I could at least email her or something.”

“Rich, I think you’re working yourself up a bit,” Mike said gently.

“No shit I am,” Richie exclaimed. “Mikey, this is real. And I need your help. Please. For my daughter’s sake.”

“Oh, for fuck...” Mike groaned. “Why’d you have to go and say that?”

“Please.”

“Alright, alright,” Mike sighed. “I’ll do some digging but I make no guarantees.”

“Yes, thank you so much, man. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Rich.”

Richie jumped when he heard the front door open and close and both girls rush to greet Eddie with squeals of “Daddy!” He turned back to the stove and began stirring the pasta for no apparent reason. Stay calm.

Eddie walked into the kitchen, loosening his tie and smiled.

“Hey, babe,” he greeted, stepping up to Richie to kiss him on the cheek, “how are you doing?”

“Fine,” Richie answered quickly. “You?”

“Tired, but what else is new,” Eddie said. “The girls have a good day?”

“Yeah, fine,” Richie lied. The water in the pot suddenly boiled over, splashing onto his hand. He hissed and snatched his hand back.

“Oh, Rich,” Eddie sighed, grasping his wrist and rushing him to the sink and running cool water over Richie’s hand.

“I’m fine,” Richie said, wincing. “Lower the heat on the stove, would ya?”

Eddie nodded and reluctantly let go of Richie’s hand to lower the burner.

“Do you want some ice?” he asked.

“No, I’m fine. Not a big deal,” Richie said quickly, turning off the water.

“Rich, I think you should hold some ice on it,” Eddie insisted, gazing at the angry burn on his hand.

“I said I’m fine,” Richie repeated, drying his hand on a dishtowel and trying not to wince at the pain.

Eddie gazed at him, a hurt look on his face.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. “You seem jumpy. Did something happen? Something with Tess?”

“Nothing happened,” Richie lied again. “I’m just tired and headachey.”

“Okay,” Eddie said slowly. He turned towards the cabinet where they kept the first aid kit and took out a bottle of ibuprofen. He poured two in his hand and handed them to Richie. “Take this for your hand and your headache. I’m gonna go take a shower before dinner, alright?”

“Fine,” Richie said, swallowing the pills dry. He turned away as Eddie walked out of the kitchen.

Richie hated lying to Eddie. He also didn’t think he was particularly good at it, which was quite funny considering he had lied all throughout his career and most of his adulthood. You’d think he’d have this down perfectly but now, lying to Eddie’s face, it sucked. He didn’t mention what Tess had showed him and probably wouldn’t have discussed her behavior at preschool but they were somehow raising two oddly honest children and she blurted it out at dinner.

“How was school today, girls?” Eddie asked as he served them both.

“Okay,” Lydia said, more interested in her food than anything else.

“I got yellow today,” Tess admitted sadly.

Richie flinched as he watched Eddie try to decipher just what on earth she meant by that cryptic statement before he remembered.

“Oh,” he said, mildly confused, “why’s that, sweetheart? You’re always on green.”

Tess shrugged and looked down at her plate of spaghetti sourly.

“Had some trouble listening today,” Richie said quickly. “I talked to her already.”

“I see,” Eddie said, nodding. “Did the teachers and Papa explain why it’s important to pay attention?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“I always pay attention,” Lydia pointed out.

“I know you do,” Eddie replied before glancing back at his youngest. “You okay, Tess?”

She nodded and gazed up at her father as if wanting to say more.

“I think she’s just embarrassed,” Richie said suddenly.

Eddie frowned but dropped the subject as Tess began eating. Richie relaxed, guilt nevertheless rising in his throat.

Later that night, as they laid side by side in bed, Richie wondered if he should just tell everything to Eddie—about Tess’s imaginary friend, the visions he saw, asking Mike for help. What’s the big deal? The worst he could say was that he was crazy...again.

Suddenly, Eddie reached for his hand and held it gently in the dark.

“How’s the burn?” he asked softly.

“Fine,” Richie said blankly, having completely forgotten about it.

Eddie brought his hand to his lips and kissed it gently in the general area of the burn before trailing kisses up Richie’s arm in an exaggerated imitation of Gomez Addams. Normally, Richie would laugh, but this time, he just pulled it out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Not now,” he sighed, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel Eddie’s eyes on him and just knew they probably looked ever sadder than usual.

“What’s going on, Rich?” Eddie implored. “You’ve been weird all evening.”

“Nothing’s going on,” Richie lied again. “I just got a lot of things on my mind.”

“So tell me about them,” Eddie asked, rolling onto his side to fully face his husband. “That’s what spouses are supposed to do. Share issues.”

“You do that with Myra?” Richie snapped, horrified even as the words tumbled out of his mouth.

Eddie tensed and stared at him, shock written plainly on his face.

“Fuck you, Richie Tozier,” Eddie said after a moment’s pause. “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is but fuck you. I haven’t done shit to you.”

He rolled over onto his side, away from Richie, and pulled the blankets up over his shoulders. Richie clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, wondering just what the fuck was his problem.

The email wasn’t very long.

I can’t find the girl from all those studies. They did a solid job protecting her identity. But I did find more about the guy she mentioned as her mentor a couple times in the articles. It is the same name that nurse gave you. I recognized it from a story an old-timer once told me back in Derry. I did some digging and found out that he works in a hospice in New Hampshire. The number’s below. I hope this helps.

Richie typed the number into his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He took a deep breath and put his phone down. He turned his gaze to the laptop screen, Mike’s email staring back at him.

If he called, he could possibly get the answers he needed for Tess. Or he could literally be opening Pandora’s box, if the vision she had showed him had any truth to it. He dropped his face into his hands and groaned and before he could second-guess himself, he picked up the phone and called the number.

Richie’s stomach was ice as it rang several times and he was about to hang up when a cheery voice answered, thanking him for calling the hospice and asking where to direct his call. Richie licked his lips and opened his mouth.

“Dan Torrance, please,” Richie said.

[toomanyfeelings5]

the definitive ranking of pulp! the classics covers and summaries, from worst to best

(Note: Pride and Prejudice was not included in this list, as there were only poster and greeting card options for the work, and not an actual book or summary. Had a book and summary been provided, it would have ranked lowest for unoriginality. It’s literally just 1995 Colin Firth staring moodily at you. The caption is “Lock Up Your Daughters...Darcy’s in Town!” which is just unfortunate, frankly, and honestly laughable.) 

16. Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte 

You take a novel that’s positively overflowing with drama and give it THIS cover? THIS summary? Absolutely uninspired. 

Here’s looking at you Cathy...

Childhood sweethearts turned star-crossed lovers, fuelled by bitter jealousy and dark revenge. She’s pretty and posh, he’s a moody brooding bastard. Heartbreak, alcoholism and plenty of illegitimate kids – it’s a perfect Northern drama.

Where is the feeling? The screaming violins playing as we read? The moors? The time skips? A hint of the positively bonkers plot that only a Bronte could compose?

15. The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde 

 Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. On an Oscar Wilde novel, no less. 

Hey girl...I’d sell my soul for you!” 

Dorian Gray might be as pretty as a picture, but he's paid a devilishly high price for it. He'll stay drop-dead gorgeous, but there's something nasty festering in the attic...

Pretty as a picture and still lusting after ladies? Please. Pulp! Classics, you can do better. 

14. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald 

Again, we must speak the ancient chant: Oh, the heterosexuality of it all. 

When it came to loving...He knew which Daisy to pick! 

Sorry old sport, but Gatsby has a bigger house than you, prettier friends than you and a Rolls Royce to cart them all round in. To a backdrop of popping champagne corks and orchestral jazz, our hero bids to buyout his old adversary, perennial jock, Tom Buchanan and reclaim Daisy, his favourite bit of High Society totty.

Nick Carraway gets not one mention, which is odd given that he’s the narrator, the protagonist, and Gatsby’s most ardent love interest. Also strange is the cover’s insistence that Jordan Baker, known lesbian, would swoon over Gatsby. Doubly strange is how tiny the women are in comparison to Gatsby’s massive frame. What is, again, bamboozling, is how the slogan on the cover seems to imply that Gatsby knows how to pick a woman. He doesn’t know how to choose anyone, let alone love them. All Gatsby truly knows is the desperate pursuit of a fruitless dream. 

13. Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare 

Romeo looks like he could be Juliet’s father. Juliet looks like an Upper East Side Widow, not at all like the tween girl she really is.

Too wild to live...too young to die!

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou…. Oh wait, he’s hanging around in the garden again. Will young Romeo and his Juliet ever be able to express their raging hormones? Or will their feuding families make this romance blossom into a poisoned flower? Either way, both their houses are totally plagued!

“Wherefore” means “why,” not “where,” though I do have to award points to the summary for placing the blame squarely on the feud and not on these doomed young lovers. Though again, young isn’t the operative word I’d use to describe this version of Romeo and Juliet. 

12. Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe 

This is what one would expect upon seeing a pulp cover of a classic novel. Not much originality or flair is present, but at least some sense of the story is conveyed. 

Solitude was driving him nuts!

Cannibals! Captives! Coconuts!

One man’s love of the sea leaves him stranded on a desert island with nothing but a few goats, a bible and a parrot for company.

Will he ever escape? Will his new pal Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? Or will solitude send him totally barmy?

WILL Friday learn to efficiently press a goatskin jerkin? One must read to find out, I suppose...

11. Tess of the D'urbervilles 

Marilyn Monroe?????

She’s...no angel.

The original Wessex girl!

Tess is just a humble milkmaid when the local landowner has his wicked way. Her new beau, the smarmy Angel Clare, is none too pleased when he finds out she’s already been deflowered. What is a girl to do? Bloody revenge of course, and an ending to touch the hardest of hearts.

At least the summary blames the terrible men in Tess’s life rather than Tess herself, unlike the tagline on the cover. And while Marilyn Monroe seductively lounging about with a drink doesn’t recall the faintest essence of Hardy’s novel, one would like to imagine Tess relaxing in whatever clothes she pleased, a straw dangling out of her drink, a smile on her face as she answers to no one and spends her quiet evening in solitude. 

10. Three Men in a Boat by Jerome K. Jerome

An innocuous cover; the men’s faces hint at the comedic nature of this novel, and yet...something nags the brain upon looking at this.

To say nothing of the dog...

Incompetence, embarrassment and general disaster - no it’s not PMQs, it’s a trip down the Thames! Three hapless fellows and a world weary dog decide they need a holiday from their exhausting hypochondria. Hilarious mayhem ensues.

To say nothing of the dog indeed: Why does the dog on the cover have a human face?

9. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka 

All one can say upon viewing this cover is: Jeff Goldblum, is that you?

Change really BUGGED him! 

Poor old Gregor. One day he's depressed about his dreary travelling salesman gig, the next, he's roaching around the apartment and disgusting his family. All that's left is creeping the walls and eating garbage. How's his sis ever going to find a sugar daddy with her grotty bro in tow?

Gregor isn’t grotty, he’s our six-legged hero in this tragic tale. 

And yet in the end, the question that haunts us all echoes in our minds in an unceasing echo: is that Jeff Goldblum? 

8.  Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland 

Alice as a hippie is eye-catching, but not particularly creative. 

This cupcake was off her head!

What HAS happened to little Alice? Taking 'shrooms, hanging out with hookah smoking ne'er-do-wells and being dragged to court. That's gonna be one hell of a hangover!

As much as I’m intrigued by Alice wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a peace sign necklace, the summary and the cover consist of one joke and one joke only. 

7. The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 

I just like how Dr. Jekyll in this cover looks equally as fucked up as Mr. Hyde. 

No more Mr. Nice Guy... There’s a sinister man about London town with something of the night about him. Mr Hyde is mad, bad and has a penchant for bumping off MPs and other kindly innocents. Will his friend Dr Jekyll be able to stop him? Or is there something more to their relationship than meets the eye…? Only the intrepid Utterson can get to the bottom of this mystery, but what will he find in Dr Jekyll’s lab?

Points to this summary for including Mr. Utterson, and for insinuating that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde may be clandestine lovers. 

6. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens 

Ladies, gentlemen, and otherwise, don’t we love it when a greedy rich man gets bludgeoned by a mace into being more generous and kindly towards others?

This cat was a drag....’til a midnight wake-up call...

Christmas?! What a load of Humbug. Mistletoe and Wine just don't do it for Scrooge; he's a workaholic miser with an attitude problem. If he doesn't change his ways, he'll end up with no friends and Tiny Tim won't last the year. Let's hope some spooky night-time visitors can put the jingle back in his bells!

Ring-a-ling-a-ling, Mr. Scrooge. The mace is raised and the bells are ringing.

5.  Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad 

The tag-line made me, as the youths say, laugh out loud. 

Whoops! Apocalypse....

The horror! The horror!

Kurtz might be the apple of every brutish imperialist’s eye, but his God complex is getting wildly out of hand in the depths of the jungle. What on earth will Marlow find when he finally gets downriver? Devil worship? Savages? Heads on sticks? Or just another nutty white man with his knickers in a twist?

Surprisingly anti-racist summary made this jump to the higher echelons of this esteemed list, though of course that doesn’t excuse this novel’s abhorrent and embarrassing fake-deep racism. It also must be noted that the tag-line should have been “Whoops! White supremacy!” and the text of the novel should have entirely consisted of Chinua Achebe’s essay on the work. 

4. The Hounds of Baskerville by Arthur Conan Doyle

The cover alone is a winner. A rabid chihuahua out for blood? Inspired. 

Murder...Mystery...Walkies!

A desolate moor, a diabolical dog in need of a muzzle and some inbred locals; Sherlock Holmes is really up against it. With the help of his trusty sidekick Dr. Watson, Holmes pieces together a mystery that has captured the imagination of readers across the decades. All whilst practising a serious coffee and cocaine habit.

The tag-line is fun and catchy, but sadly this summary must be admonished for insisting that Dr. Watson is merely a “trusty sidekick” to Sherlock Holmes. Heterosexuality strikes again, reducing the impact of the striking cover design. 

3. Dubliners by James Joyce 

Finally! Some style, some panache, some flair to accompany these short stories about being sad and horny in Ireland. 

Stuck in the Liffey with you...

Booze, Sex and Hot Floury Potatoes… Those Dubliners are at it again!

Liars, thieves, whores and priests… James Joyce sure knew how to throw a party! This relentlessly downbeat collection explores the very worst aspects of human nature, and doesn’t leave out the juicy bits. It might not be in the best possible taste, but who doesn’t want to get down and dirty in Dublin?

The summary and cover work in tandem to wholeheartedly convince me that Dubliners is an action-packed, slick collection of stories detailing the wild escapades of a motley cast of ragamuffins, and I gotta hand it to the folks over at Pulp! Classics for injecting some bonafide vintage cool into Joyce’s work.

2. Othello by William Shakespeare 

I have so many thoughts on this. Mr. T. as Othello is fascinating, as is the tagline, “Some kind of Bard...aaaaasss.” Is this a commentary on blaxploitation media? One can’t help but recall Mr. T.’s reasoning behind his mohawk, his gold chains, to honor his ancestors and assert his living, unshakable humanity in a racist society. Is this is a genuine effort on the part of Pulp! Classics to imply that a blaxploitation-influenced adaptation of Othello could reveal deeper truths to the play that we have had yet to glimpse? 

Some kind of Bard... aaaasss

He’s a bardass brother with the love of a fine woman. That is until some cloven hoofed honky starts talking crazy about variously hued sheep tupping the hell outta each other! You gotta pity the fool who gets shafted by the green eyed monster. Let’s hope Othello can work out who to trust before it’s too late…

The fast-paced alliterative language of the summary harkens to Shakespeare’s own wit-fueled dialogue and penchant for creative language. The summary also calls Iago a devil, which is apt, and implicitly criticizes his racism, hinting at the play’s greater tragedies to come. The cover and summary also work in tandem to emphasize Othello’s jealousy and destruction: the “green-eyed monster” is mentioned, and the cover itself is a putrid green. An excellent example of what a vintage cover and summary can achieve. 

1. Frankenstein by Mary Shelly 

You all knew this was coming. 

This kid was born on the wrong side of the lab...

Frankenstein’s monster is on the rampage; terrorising the locals, unleashing murderous hell… and reading novels in his spare time. Can his petrified creator stop this reign of horror before his girlfriend gets the chop?

A James Dean-inspired creature, thereby making them a queer icon? Masterful. The creature being “born on the wrong side of the lab?” A stroke of genius; that they’re called a kid puts the poignancy of the monster’s plight into even greater relief, while simultaneously emphasizing their tragic charm. The clear distinction between Frankenstein and the creature? Reader, I exhaled in a cathartic release of tension. The loving detail that the creature reads novels in their spare time, like any other leather-jacket wearing, motorcycle-riding ruffian with a heart of gold? Beautiful. 

Truly, the obvious queer energy of this cover and summary highlights an overlooked dimension of Shelly’s great work while also paying homage to what draws us to this Modern Prometheus time after time. Do we care about the petrified creator in this summary? Not at all. He’s not on the cover, appearing both rebellious and gentle. We are here for the creature, in their leather jacket, on their motorcycle, novel sticking out of a back pocket on their jeans, ready to whisk us away to a place where even monsters like us can find solace, and be at peace, and commune with each other. We need only take their outstretched hand, and be willing to leave the mundane world for something better, for the chance to no longer be alone. 

[theseashellscenter]

Joel’s Inferno

So I just cooked up this ludicrous Game Theory-tier speculation comparing The Last of Us to Dante’s Inferno and now all I can do spread it around for whoever cares to see. It’s long as fuck so I’ll put it below a cut. I don’t think it actually has any basis in the devs’ intent but it was a fun thought exercise and made more sense the more I wrote. Gets real melodramatic at the end. Waste your time reading it at your own risk.

Playing through the game recently I began to think about how the story is constructed and how a progression of events leads the characters to their eventual conclusion. Essentially, it occurred to me that Joel and Ellie endure a series of increasing hardships which tests and strengthens their relationship before ultimately emerging on the other side together. The thought came to me that this could be compared to a story like Dante's Inferno, where the hero descends into Hell and experiences its worst depths before returning.

Then I started to wonder, could the game's events be directly compared to the nine circles of Hell? For those who don't know, the poem Dante's Inferno depicts Hell as being made up of nine circles, each corresponding to a sin and getting worse (both in terms of the sin and the punishment for the sin) as they go lower. I decided the most fitting way to compare them was for each circle to correspond to people Joel and Ellie meet on their journey.

Keep in mind this is just a thought experiment. As you'll be able to tell from how far many of these had to be stretched to fit, I don't think it was intentional. But I still thought it was an interesting concept.

Limbo: the first circle of Hell, for those who did not sin enough to be damned but also didn't accept God in order to be saved. Among them are unbaptized children, too young to know God but too innocent to go to Hell. This is the prologue of the game, ending with the death of Joel's daughter Sarah, and thus Joel's entry into Hell.

Lust: The early part of the game with Tess. Tess chooses to die out of dedication to the cause of Ellie and her immunity, and Joel initially continues escorting Ellie only in honor of Tess and their partnership together. Notably, one of her last lines is “Look, there's enough here that you have to feel some sort of obligation to me.” What “enough here” exactly means is never made explicit, and they may only have ever been fellow smugglers, but it's clear that at the time when the game begins Tess is the person Joel cares about most. This “obligation” between a man and a woman is the closest the game comes to depicting Lust, and it leads to Tess's death.

Gluttony: Bill's town. Bill is the fattest character in the game (possibly the only person with an out-of-shape build in the entire game, actually), a characteristic which Ellie derisively comments on during their scenes together. Fittingly, this is also where Joel first encounters a bloater, the name of which speaks for itself (and is ironically fought in a high school gym). While obesity may not seem like Bill's most notable flaw, it indirectly symbolizes the isolation and paranoia that defines him, as his reliance on traps to keep others away and do the fighting for him would allow him to avoid exerting himself more than necessary and his careless appearance suggests his disregard for the conventions of outsiders.

Greed: This is Sam. Though not greedy in the traditional sense, Sam shows a form of greed by desiring more than he should in the scene where he attempts to pick up a toy, for which Henry rebukes him with the saying “We only take what we have to.” This greed is a shorthand for the flaws Henry sees in Sam, which Sam is insecure about. These arguments lead Sam to resent his brother and cause him to hide his infection when he is bitten. His final activity before death, counting cans of food while the others are relaxing, demonstrates an opposite form of Greed to that of the toy scene. Sam hordes these items not because he personally desires them but because he thinks his brother will approve, a reversal which is reinforced when he despondently throws away the same toy after Ellie brings it to him.

Wrath: Henry. Henry is characterized largely by his unhappy relationship with his brother, who he views as disobedient and incapable and who he frequently criticizes for his errors. Though this behavior is motivated by love for his brother, whom he wants to keep safe, Sam only sees it as anger. He also first meets Joel and Ellie when he attacks them on sight, and is occasionally aggressive when Joel expresses doubt toward him. His last words are spoken in irrational anger, blaming Joel for the death of his brother before killing himself.

Heresy: Tommy, who Joel goes to in hope that he will bring Ellie to the Fireflies, only to find that Tommy abandoned their cause a long time ago (making him a heretic to their “faith”) and has taken up his own community (whom Joel mockingly refers to as “born again,” a phrase with religious associations). While Marlene can be heard in the opening credits telling people that “When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light,” suggesting the Fireflies as saviors, Tommy has found his own source of light – the electricity produced by the dam his community has restarted. Joel also says his split from Tommy was due to a difference in worldviews (which is reinforced during their argument, where Tommy says they “ain't back in Boston” and that his time surviving with Joel “wasn't worth it”), making him a heretic from Joel's way of life as well.

Joel himself shows a sort of Heresy during this section by attempting to leave Ellie behind, representing a trial of his own “faith” — his love for his daughter. The picture Tommy provides him of his daughter (which he turns down much like he is trying to send away Ellie) is the most obvious suggestion of the connection between the two up to this point. Toward the end of the section with Tommy, Joel at first appears to completely abandon his bond with her by telling her “You're not my daughter, and I sure as hell ain't your dad. And we are going our separate ways.” However, he resolves to stay with her shortly after, claiming that he is afraid of Tommy's wife and encouraging Tommy to stay with her and his community. In a sense, Joel attempts to restore Tommy's faith in his cause in order to escape the difficulties of his own, but he ultimately chooses to be faithful himself and let his brother remain a heretic.

Violence: David. David's section of the game contains four significant instances of violence (which is saying something, for a game as generally violent as this one). First is Joel's impalement, which occurs during Fall but was caused by combat with bandits who David later reveals are part of his group. Second is the revelation that David and his people are cannibals, a form of violence even further than anything seen up to this point, which connects them moreso with the infected than with other humans. Third is Joel's torture and killing of two of David's men, perhaps the first time we truly see extent of the brutality and even cruelty Joel is capable of. Lastly is Ellie's killing of David, an act so violent it isn't shown on screen and the trauma of which seems to finally seal her and Joel's devotion to one another. It also acts as counterpart to Joel's earlier violence, showing the great lengths both will go to when the other is in danger.

Fraud: Marlene and the Fireflies. From Joel's perspective, their choice to kill Ellie is a betrayal. This is fairly clear-cut; while they promise to help humanity, Joel can only see them as trying to destroy what he loves most, making them dishonest in his eyes. Joel also sees Marlene as breaking her promise to Ellie's mother to keep her safe. The Inferno classifies the worst frauds as “Falsifiers, those who attempted to alter things through lies or alchemy, or those who tried to pass off false things as real things.” Joel sees the Fireflies as unworthy heroes for humanity (impostors), trying to convert a girl's life into a cure (alchemy/counterfeiting). Just as these frauds are punished with disease in Hell, Joel massacres the occupants of a hospital, doctors included, takes away the only hope for a cure and condemns humanity to the cordyceps plague.

Treachery: The last circle and the worst sin, Treachery, is embodied by Joel himself. In the final scene he lies to Ellie about what happened with the Fireflies — a lie which Ellie may or may not recognize, but which marks a point from which they can never return, the final stage in their relationship. Before questioning Joel's story and making him swear it is the truth, Ellie tells him about how her friend Riley told her they would die together after being bitten, but as Ellie puts it, she's “Still waiting for [her] turn.” Both Riley and Joel have told her lies, but where the former was an effort to reassure her told out of ignorance of the harsh truth, Joel's was created with full awareness of what really happened and serves his own purposes more than Ellie's.

In trying to protect her from the trials of Hell, Joel's love for Ellie ultimately condemns him to its lowest depths.

Much like in Dante's Inferno, the successive layers of Hell are each reserved for worse sins. Sarah is the most innocent and nonthreatening character in the game; Tess, though capable of violence, is clearly a devoted ally to Joel; Bill is also an ally, but of a more begrudging kind; Sam and Henry are both friendly but unfamiliar, not entirely reliable and eventually self-destructive; Tommy, though by no means hostile, outright refuses to uphold Joel's request at first while Sam and Henry had been eager to cooperate; David pretends to be friendly but turns out to be an unhinged antagonist with some particularly reprehensible traits; the Fireflies are far more sympathetic and civilized but want to kill Ellie immediately, whereas David was obsessed with keeping her alive. Finally, the player realizes that all along they have been controlling the most dangerous character of all — and as our control shifts to Ellie in the last scene, we know he will never let us go so long as he lives, for better or for worse.

[gserdlvs]

Dan Walker reacts to Strictly exit as he praises Nadiya Bychkova in emotional message

Dan Walker has expressed his sadness following his departure from Strictly Come Dancing with dance partner Nadiya Bychkova. The pair found themselves in the bottom two alongside AJ Odudu and her partner Kai Widdrington, who were unanimously saved by the judges.

WATCH: Strictly's Dan Walker reveals shock friendship with major US star

Reflecting on his time on the show, he kicked off his three-part message with: "Well… what a ride! Strictly has been a truly wonderful experience for me. I have met some amazing people and enjoyed every second. It has been magnificent to be a small part of a show that means so much to so many people. I came into it a complete beginner with the lowest of expectations and ended up coming 5th!"

MORE: Dan Walker inundated with support after fan's emotional message

READ: Inside Dan Walker's private 20-year marriage with uni sweetheart Sarah

He added: "I discovered a love of dance and learned an incredible new set of skills. It was such a privilege to get to watch some of the best professional dancers on the planet up close. I have a newfound appreciation of their pure talent & expertise… It's been lovely to get to know my fellow contestants & I can't wait to spend more time with them in the future."

The 44-year-old mentioned how "proud" he was of what he and Nadiya achieved together. "To make the quarter-finals having never danced before while still doing BBC Breakfast, the NFL Show and lots of other work, not living in London and being the oldest person left by about a decade tells you everything about her talent and how hard we worked," he said.

"She taught me to no longer fear the dance floor. My stomach doesn’t fold in on itself when I walk out there now. I'm not a dancer but Nadiya showed me that I can dance and that is a game-changer."

Dan Walker became the tenth celebrity to leave Strictly

As well as thanking the Strictly crew and fans, Dan then turned his attention to his wife Sarah and their three children. "My amazing family have been there throughout," he noted. "I'm thankful to my children for persuading me to finally do Strictly after years of saying 'no' and to my wife - and wider family - for being so supportive and doing everything in my absence.

"They have loved getting to know Nadiya and watching the show became such a lovely part of the weekend. The good news is, after seeing me work hard and perform, I can now do the same for our 2 girls… it's their Christmas show next Saturday and I can’t wait to be a proud dad."

In his final part, Dan touched upon negative messages he received from critics. "To the angry mob who shouted, insulted and moaned each week… please think about your words," he continued. "I can thankfully cope with it but others can’t and some of it is cruel, unkind and unnecessary. I love watching Strictly for the brilliant dancers but also for the improvers, the no-hopers and the ones who surprise themselves and everyone else."

The pair were hugely popular with fans ซื้อฟรีสปิน

The message was then directed to his "professional partner and favourite barmaid Nadiya Bychkova". He said: "It's been one of the great privileges of my life to get to know her. We got on from day one and we have taught each other so much.

"She is kind, encouraging, hilarious, clever, the best teacher I could ever have hoped for and a great friend. She gave me a confidence that I always felt would be way beyond me and showed me the joy of dancing. I’m not going to dance every week but I won’t not dance anymore and that - for me - is a huge change."

Dan then concluded with: "Keep enjoying the show and thanks again for all the support. You've been amazing."

Upon learning of the verdict on the results' show, Dan told co-host Tess Daly: "When I go back to the first day when I was asked to dance in front of some glitter balls, at that point, if there had been a fire exit, I'd have just walked away.

"But this amazing woman grabbed me by the hand, and brought me out onto this dance floor. I'm not a dancer, but she showed me that I can dance, and that for me, this has been an absolutely incredible experience."

Nadiya - who was later pictured crying when leaving the studio - also had an emotional response, saying: "Like he said, sometimes the right person walks into your life at the right time and that's what happened. You always encourage everyone, you always have time for everyone, it just inspires me to be a better person myself. Thank you."

[onbeingdivine-blog]

Life Story - Written for a Course

I was born in a tiny place called Ardvary on the west coast of Ireland. My parents were total dreamers, and built a house with the ambition of living off the land. My earliest memories were quite idyllic. We were a vegetarian family (unheard of) whom lived within the company of animals, even chickens and goats. Both my parents were home in my early years, and I was incredibly close to them. My dad worked from a garden shed making children’s toys and I wouldn’t let him leave me in playgroup. I remember money being a constant issue though - dole queues, phone being constantly cut off etc.  I also remember my mum crying, and suffering badly from asthma. The environment was isolated, damp, and sometimes the air was so thick with midges we couldn’t go out.

I remember talk of moving to England was in the most optimistic tone - I would have new school shoes in England, I would learn how to ride a horse in England etc. My mum was 6 months pregnant when we eventually moved over. My sister was two. We had two dogs and two puppies. My dad had to drown a litter our dog Tess had suddenly given birth to just before leaving.

We moved over when I was 5, and lived in a number of places over the course of a year; mostly my nan, two of my mum’s sisters, my dad’s best friend’s brother in law, and finally with my mum’s old work colleague. We weren’t wanted anywhere we stayed. I remember my aunt hostilely criticising my mum over how she organised our family’s stuff in the fridge just after my sister was born. My nan hated my dad, and wouldn’t allow him to nurse my baby sister. At my aunt’s I lived alongside a cousin, and at my mum’s old colleagues house a girl called Jane, both of whom were the same age as me. They hated our family staying in their home, and I took the flack through a rolling the tide of being befriended and ignored.

I started school while still living with Jane although she was in another class. In my class, I remember being instantly disliked. There were Irish, vegetarian references, the fact that I was poor etc. I think I was a kind of trampy looking kid. I was mortally ashamed of unpopularity, and felt Jane had been proved right. I managed to bribe my school bully into not harassing me, and we became a friendship in which bullying continued up until secondary school. I was terrified of everyone and everything at primary school, and couldn’t walk into a room without blushing.

In parallel with an unhappy school life, our family circumstances declined. We moved into a small flat locally. My sisters and I shared a room, and my parents slept on a sofa bed in the sitting room. My father became an incredibly angry man. Rows often involved us being cornered and screamed at. I would hear him harassing my mum at night for sex she was unwilling to give. My mum bottled everything up, but had routine outbursts that “once Ciara (my youngest) was 18”, she didn’t care if she was dead. They couldn’t communicate at all, and I would often run between them trying to make peace. There were routinely meetings in our sitting room with declarations that they were going to separate, but nothing ever came of it.

Secondary school was turbulent. I changed schools twice and never found that I fit in anywhere. I started in a bitchy all-girls school, then following an accident a rough catholic school where I was put in the lowest set. The kids were rough, and I was far from street wise. I befriended some girls in my class who insisted I could only hang around with them if I smoked. Following my parent’s intervention, I was moved up to a higher set. No one spoke to me in my new class, and the kids from the lower had disowned me for moving. I walked the playgrounds alone, and ate my lunch in toilet cubicles for about 6 months.

An old friend had started another secondary school in a ‘nice’ area surrounded by fields - it sounded like the refuge I needed. I begged my parents to let me move, believing that this was truly the new start I needed (again). Upon starting this new school, an exhausting commute of 8 miles away, I quickly found that I did not belong. Some girls in my year group took a massive disliking to me, and would hurl abuse at me across the corridor. My friend from before bailed on me completely, too scared to compromise herself I’m sure. I made a few friends in my class I clung onto for dear life, and endured cycles of being excluded.

I was solely responsible for looking after my sisters for the most part. We cooked (mostly alphabites - we were very sickly children) and mostly amused ourselves at home with board games and watching tele. Although I had this responsibility, I was fiercely overprotected. I was never allowed to meet friends outside, although later my sisters were granted much more freedom which I did greatly resented.

I also found in secondary school, kind of to my surprise, that I was extremely ugly. I had massive gums which invited comment wherever I went, by adults as well as children. I was greeted in class in the morning by lads who would gnash their teeth at me. I just tried to ignore them and pretend that nothing was happening. I was never defended by any of my ‘friends’. I remember the girls who hated me graffitiing on my leaving book to “go to hell you gummy bitch” etc. Intellectually, I was pretty disempowered. I was put in the lowest classes again (based on where I was from and my previous school I think), but was literally too exhausted by this point to ‘achieve’ anything. I just dragged myself through.

Following my GCSE’s, I went on my first holiday with my friends. We met a group of lads, and all hoped for romantic encounters. I had my first sexual grope, was ecstatic, and so excited for more when the ‘gummy’ chants came back to haunt me. My romance had been shamed into ever even talking to me again. I swallowed everything, and tried to pretend that nothing had happened. Upon returning home, for first time I really spelt things out. If I didn’t do something about this ‘gummy’ problem, I was going to die. I went to a dentist, and got a referral to a maxillofacial unit where I commenced a complex three year orthodontic process.

Determined to step out of my social anxiety, I went to a new college for A-levels hoping for a more mature environment. I made some friends, but again encountered people who just didn’t like me and ‘gummy’ taunts continued. I remember catching my main tormenter’s reflection in a window flashing her gums behind me when I was talking to a guy. I swallowed all of this humiliation, but felt hopeful that following my surgery, life would be fine.

My surgery was 4 weeks before I started university. I couldn’t wait to leave home and start my new life with a new face. The surgery was intense - it involved removing a 5mm layer of bone across my top teeth, and both jaws broken. Upon starting uni, I still looked like I had been knocked over by a bus, and had to wear rubber bands across my braces to keep my jaws together. I couldn’t eat, but still went out for freshers week to get wasted and attempted to make friends. Through the first term, I had to return to London regularly for appointments, and was ravaged with panic attacks.

In my second year at university, I went out and got wasted, and brought a boy home. I had to get the virginity thing over and done with as the pressure was becoming too much. His attempts at penetration were painful, and bloody. When I refused to carry on, I ran to the bathroom and had a massive panic attack. I returned to my room, and attempted to pretend that nothing had happened. He tried to force penetrating me anally, and I got off the bed and slept on the floor. I told everyone the next day how great the night was.

I studied Chinese as part of my degree in an attempt to be a more interesting person, a decision that impressed everyone I met. I daren’t have bailed on something so worthy of respect. I studied with some public-school types, one of whom was a girl known as ‘the hottest girl in Newcastle’. I found them all utterly terrifying. During my year in China, panic attacks returned. I moved into an apartment with two Chinese girls further adding to my alienation. During this period, many nights I went to sleep hoping that I would never wake up. I couldn’t bear the drama killing myself would create. I got through university by the skin of my teeth.

Following uni, I slept through a year in London in an office job, and going through the motions of after work drinking and drug fuelled weekends. My sister and I got a flat together as we both had nowhere to live. I had always been aware of being a dark cloud in my sister’s life. She enjoyed freedom, a healthy rebellion, solid friends and a strong sense of her sexuality. I resented her massively which culminated in a bust up that led us to not talking for over 6 months.

A lastminute.com holiday to India enlightened me that there was magic in the world, and I then saved up to go travelling. Although I found travelling alone a bit melancholic, I met interesting people and had some spiritual awakenings via vipassana meditation and a yoga ashram.

I found a vigour I had never experienced before upon completing my trip, and I decided to move to Beijing, a city I had really enjoyed as a tourist in an attempt to give China a second shot. The first six months were possibly the best of my life. I quickly made a lot of friends, partied a lot, and happened upon a number of fascinating jobs, one of which working on a film which I then went on to act in. It was so powerful a dream come true, I remember going back to my hotel one day and crying for hours. I met a boyfriend around this time. He was kind and gentle, but the vulnerability required to connect with him didn’t correspond in any way with the outgoing party girl persona I had newly adopted. He told me that sex with me was weird, and I found out shortly after that he has started seeing someone else. I felt relieved.

I got an ‘amazing’ job offer working for a film post production company in which inexperience was traded for training. I became quickly aware however that I was hired as a bit of a Chinese speaking gimmick which resulted in massive resentment among my Chinese colleagues and what I can only describe as work place harassment. One colleague whom I actually befriended and developed a very deep romantic attachment to manipulated my vulnerable position in the firm to elevate his status. Higher management took on ridiculous contracts that involved hiring large teams working crazy hours which I was responsible for. I felt like I was running a sweat shop. I finally quit after 2 years and felt somewhat shell shocked.

I returned to England a year later to do a masters I didn’t really want to do, and had the first encounter with what I can only describe as a breakdown. Whenever I cycled in front of an HGV, I thought about throwing myself under it. I remember my dad bringing me to the train station after Xmas, and crying as the train departed as I was sure I would never see him again. I commenced a course of psychotherapy with a pretty unqualified student psychotherapist. The organiser asked me why I hadn’t sought out support years before, like at university. I told him that the thought had never crossed my mind.

Over the past 5 years, I have really struggled to hold down a job, although am fairly resourceful and so always seem to keep my head above water. I don’t know anyone in my position - 35 and never had a relationship. I go to weddings, and am completely bewildered by how I got to this place. I just keep hoping that something is going to fall into place.

A year ago, I had my first pleasurable sexual experience. The guy wasn’t interested, but the experience did put me on the path to exploring my sexuality. I met a guy on the first night at a conscious sexuality festival (at Leela last November). He was handsome and gentle, and we closed the love lounge. The next morning, he really supported me when I freaked out upon seeing him - an experience I have never had with a man. I have just got back from visiting him, a massively intense experience. I felt cold and resistant the whole time, and still feel full of tears that I wasn’t able to bring down my fortress with him.

[rbeatz]

rBeatz Plus News: Billboard’s Annual List Arrives

Billboard Magazine has delivered the list!  The 15 biggest, newest, brightest writers, performers, DJ’s and producers to keep our sights glued to in 2017.  Is it time to say, “Move over Chainsmokers and Flume?”  No way!  There’s plenty of room for more beat makers and designers.

​Mark Johns

Top dance artists are essentially A&Rs these days. Look no further than what Diplo has built with Mad Decent or what Skrillex has accomplished with OWSLA. It was the latter who made 22-year-old Mark Johns the first solo singer signed to his tastemaking imprint after hearing her cover of Jay Z & Kanye West‘s “N—s in Paris” a year ago. Her debut EP Molino‘s title track showcases her potential in its balanced juxtaposition between seductive pop hooks and starkly confessional candor. With a debut album currently in the works, expect much more where that came from. – Matt Medved

Alan Walker

Categorizing this 19-year-old Norwegian as an “artist to watch” would seem absurd in most places outside America. Alan Walker has been racking up staggering streaming numbers (more than 1.5 billion on YouTube and more than 1 billion on Spotify), despite having only released three proper singles, including 2015 breakthrough hit “Faded” (No. 80 on Hot 100), which topped the singles charts in more than 10 countries. Walker joined Rihanna on the European leg of her ANTI tour and is poised to see his star continue to rise stateside. – Matt Medved

  Sam Gellaitry​

This kid was born in 1997, but in his swift 19 years, he’s earned some serious street cred. He was scooped up as a member of the illustrious Soulection crew in 2014 (although he has sense taken leave), he was hand-picked to open for Mr. Carmack on his 2016 tour, and he’s set to play this year’s Coachella. His productions are cleaner than some dude’s who’ve been producing his entire life. Don’t be surprised when all the snooty beat heads and future bass fans you know can’t stop saying his name. – Kat Bein

Petit Biscuit

It seems like there’s one future bass song each year that breaks through the copycat noise to uplift an unknown producer to viral heights. 2015 brought us Jai Wolf’s “Indian Summer,” and 2016 belonged to Petit Biscuit‘s “Sunset Lover.” The mellow and melodic number racked up more than 108 million Spotify streams and launched its French creator onto international festival lineups  – Matt Medved

Jubilee 

Raised in Miami and working out of New York City, we named this producer’s debut LP After Hours one of the best dance albums of 2016. Just like the Magic City that inspired it, After Hours is a beautiful, tropical sunset blend of electronic cultures and styles. There’s some Miami bass, some dancehall, some Florida breaks, some video game bleep bloops, some freaky IDM; everything you need to keep the party going from dusk till dawn, then dusk again. Plus, she’s a killer DJ who’s been putting in work for nearly a decade. Now that the world is riding her sound waves, the only way to go is up. – Kat Bein​

Brasstracks

You may know them best for producing Chance the Rapper‘s smash “No Problem,” but this New Jersey duo also boasts production credits for the likes of Anderson .Paak (“Am I Wrong?”) and Gorillaz, plus co-signs from GRiZ and Lido. Expect Ivan Jackson (trumpet, production) and Conor Rayne (drums) to make some more funk-infused noise in 2017. – Matt Medved​

San Holo

Dutch artist Sander van Dijck (aka San Holo) has made his name on a series of uplifting yet nuanced future bass and broken-beat releases, earning more than 45 million Spotify streams on his latest release “Light.” While he’s graced an impressively diverse range of labels from OWSLA and Nest to Monstercat and Spinnin’, the 26-year-old also finds time to manage his own eclectic bitbird imprint – Matt Medved​

Mura Masa

Even while your most pretentious friends will tell you future bass is the new lowest common denominator, none of them would dare say they find Mura Masa any less than super fly. He just copped a verse from A$AP Rocky and a big hit with “Love$ick,” so you’re almost guaranteed to hear more-a Masa on your radio in 2017. – Kat Bein

Satori

Raised in the Netherlands with Serbian-South African roots, multi-instrumentalist/producer Djordje Petrovic makes entrancing electronic music influenced by his transcontinental experiences. Don’t call him a DJ — Satori’s multifaceted live sets draw on his guitar, piano and other instrumental backgrounds while blending world music and melodic house music to awe-inspiring effect. With releases on tastemaking imprints like Crosstown Rebels and upcoming gigs at Get Lost Miami and Lightning in a Bottle, Satori is only getting started. – Matt Medved​

Troyboi

Serious beat addicts already know to rock this Londoner’s sophisticated sounds, but he’s got a debut full-length LP scheduled to hit headphones in 2017, and I fully expect the rest of dance music’s heat-seeking community to climb aboard the TroyBoi train. He’s got a knack for multi-cultural amalgamations cut with a certain street-wise edge, a distinctly cool sound he tags simple #MyStyle. I’m stoked to see his that style evolves on a bigger project. – Kat Bein​

$uicideboy$

Alright, you got me. These guys aren’t really a dance/electronic act at all (though they do have some loose ties to the scene via collaborations with Getter and a copyright infringement controversy with deadmau5). Nevertheless, I’m intrigued by these nihilistic New Orleans rappers who have cultivated an underground cult following throughout middle America. You may never hear them in a Manhattan club, but you better believe their visceral lyrics and slick beats are resonating in Michigan basements – Matt Medved​

Giraffage 

This San Franciscan is no newcomer, but 2017 is his year. Word on the street is Giraffage has a full-length LP in the works, his first proper release form 2014’s nostalgically adorable No Reason EP. His glorious blend of post-Internet pop hooks and ’90s R&B nabbed him a spot opening for Porter Robinon’s Worlds tour, and he definitely learned a lot about showmanship in the experience. His sound has only continued to sweeten on recent singles “So Cute,” “Bring Me Your Love,” and while I couldn’t be more excited for his upcoming release, it’s his recent live tour that left me truly inspired. If you ever get the chance to see Giraffage in 2017, don’t think. Just go. – Kat Bein

BlackGummy

deadmau5’s mau5trap label has taken a welcome turn towards techno in recent years and this Los Angeles artist is one of the signees leading the charge. His 2016 Impactor EP is a four-track helping of gritty, distorted synths and sinister sub-bass that showcases the production chops that won him the ear of one of dance music’s most discerning producers – Matt Medved​

Tennyson

This teenage brother-sister power duo is packed to the gills with musical talent. Luke, 20, and Tess, 18, look cherubic but sound like wise, dimension-traveling jazz elders both when they talk backstage and when they hit the set. Luke writes the playfully syncopated tunes, Tess provides mind-numbing live percussion. Skrillex is a big fan. You might have heard their influence on his remix of “Stranger.” Originally from Canada, Luke is heading to Los Angeles this year to rub shoulders with the big wigs and get as creative as he can, so definitely expect big things from Tennyson in the months to come. – Kat Bein

Kobosil

Berghain’s youngest resident DJ first visited the notorious Berlin nightclub at age 18 and made his Klubnacht debut a scant 4 years later. Now the 26-year-old can lay claim to one of its Ostgut Ton label’s most unique releases in 2016 debut We Grow, You Decline – Matt Medved​

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