#there. you have your diversity boxes checked.

[dropoutconfessions]

it really bugs me when people say dropout doesn't have representation or "enough" representation. there's lots of women, poc, queer people, trans people, trans women, drag queens, neurodivergent people, stutters and (afaik one) physically disabled person just counting who shows up on screen, let alone the rest of the crew. they give every demographic a voice, a job, the ability to take risks with shows and to come up with ideas and to do something they love all at a relatively cheap subscription price with multiple weekly uploads. yes there could be more but you could be saying that forever. i'm not saying to sit down and shut up and not fight for representation, but some of the language people use really makes it seem like they're arguing that dropout has little to no rep which is just false. dropout shouldn't hire just to tick diversity boxes, the cast doesn't owe you their coming out or diagnoses. a lot of the cast are very open about their identity, sexuality and disabilities/illnesses/struggles and 90% of every single episode of any show on dropout is filled to the brim with queer people and characters. they know their audience is full of queer people. they've created a safe space both online and in real life at an affordable price and they're letting queer people experiment and take risks and do what they love. some of yous need respect. yes sam is a cis white man but what ever happened to "cis white people need to uplift the voices of the marginalised" and mismag is good, actually because jkr doesn't own the genre but we're at a place where it's good to talk about her when creating stories in said genre using a public platform. which they do. the show's both parodying hp and its own deep narrative about dismantling oppression and segregation through community, connections and love and both of these themes are about combating jkr's influence and rhetoric. you don't know who wrote mismag or who they spoke to or who they love, and a trans person literally plays in it and their character QUITE LITERALLY transitions their identity to something that was always there but they were hiding away in an effort to fit in and look cool, which is very trans of them to do. playing with the wizard boarding school genre should be un-terfed and that's the point of mismag and tumblr people shoot first and ask questions later media literacy is a sisyphusian task you need to constantly learn and check and re-check and adjust and learn you don't just "have it" because you can think past surface level on your favourite shows. context matters sometimes and this is one of those times.

anyway sorry for the rant reading this blog's posts make my blood vessels burst

-

[the-everqueen]

so tempted to just quit doing applications for postdocs and higher ed jobs and instead find some kind of quiet desk or office work i could do near the gf. i can be so productive about audits and data sheets. please just let me have dental.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Amazon illegally interferes with an historic UK warehouse election

I'm in to TARTU, ESTONIA! Overcoming the Enshittocene (Monday, May 8, 6PM, Prima Vista Literary Festival keynote, University of Tartu Library, Struwe 1). AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

Amazon is very good at everything it does, including being very bad at the things it doesn't want to do. Take signing up for Prime: nothing could be simpler. The company has built a greased slide from Prime-curiosity to Prime-confirmed that is the envy of every UX designer.

But unsubscribing from Prime? That's a fucking nightmare. Somehow the company that can easily figure out how to sign up for a service is totally baffled when it comes to making it just as easy to leave. Now, there's two possibilities here: either Amazon's UX competence is a kind of erratic freak tide that sweeps in at unpredictable intervals and hits these unbelievable high-water marks, or the company just doesn't want to let you leave.

To investigate this question, let's consider a parallel: Black Flag's Roach Motel. This is an icon of American design, a little brown cardboard box that is saturated in irresistibly delicious (to cockroaches, at least) pheromones. These powerful scents make it admirably easy for all the roaches in your home to locate your Roach Motel and enter it.

But the interior of the Roach Motel is also coated in a sticky glue. Once roaches enter the motel, their legs and bodies brush up against this glue and become hopeless mired in it. A roach can't leave – not without tearing off its own legs.

It's possible that Black Flag made a mistake here. Maybe they wanted to make it just as easy for a roach to leave as it is to enter. If that seems improbable to you, well, you're right. We don't even have to speculate, we can just refer to Black Flag's slogan for Roach Motel: "Roaches check in, but they don't check out."

It's intentional, and we know that because they told us so.

Back to Amazon and Prime. Was it some oversight that cause the company make it so marvelously painless to sign up for Prime, but such a titanic pain in the ass to leave? Again, no speculation is required, because Amazon's executives exchanged a mountain of internal memos in which this is identified as a deliberate strategy, by which they deliberately chose to trick people into signing up for Prime and then hid the means of leaving Prime. Prime is a Roach Motel: users check in, but they don't check out:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/03/big-tech-cant-stop-telling-on-itself/

When it benefits Amazon, they are obsessive – "relentless" (Bezos's original for the company) – about user friendliness. They value ease of use so highly that they even patented "one click checkout" – the incredibly obvious idea that a company that stores your shipping address and credit card could let you buy something with a single click:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1-Click#Patent

But when it benefits Amazon to place obstacles in our way, they are even more relentless in inventing new forms of fuckery, spiteful little landmines they strew in our path. Just look at how Amazon deals with unionization efforts in its warehouses.

Amazon's relentless union-busting spans a wide diversity of tactics. On the one hand, they cook up media narratives to smear organizers, invoking racist dog-whistles to discredit workers who want a better deal:

https://www.theguardian.com/technology/2020/apr/02/amazon-chris-smalls-smart-articulate-leaked-memo

On the other hand, they collude with federal agencies to make workers afraid that their secret ballots will be visible to their bosses, exposing them to retaliation:

https://www.nbcnews.com/tech/tech-news/amazon-violated-labor-law-alabama-union-election-labor-official-finds-rcna1582

They hold Cultural Revolution-style forced indoctrination meetings where they illegally threaten workers with punishment for voting in favor of their union:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/01/31/business/economy/amazon-union-staten-island-nlrb.html

And they fire Amazon tech workers who express solidarity with warehouse workers:

https://www.cbsnews.com/news/amazon-fires-tech-employees-workers-criticism-warehouse-climate-policies/

But all this is high-touch, labor-intensive fuckery. Amazon, as we know, loves automation, and so it automates much of its union-busting: for example, it created an employee chat app that refused to deliver any message containing words like "fairness" or "grievance":

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/05/doubleplusrelentless/#quackspeak

Amazon also invents implausible corporate fictions that allow it to terminate entire sections of its workforce for trying to unionize, by maintaining the tormented pretense that these workers, who wear Amazon uniforms, drive Amazon trucks, deliver Amazon packages, and are tracked by Amazon down to the movements of their eyeballs, are, in fact, not Amazon employees:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-drivers-unionized-then-amazon-tried-to-terminate-his-contract/

These workers have plenty of cause to want to unionize. Amazon warehouses are sources of grueling torment. Take "megacycling," a ten-hour shift that runs from 1:20AM to 11:50AM that workers are plunged into without warning or the right to refuse. This isn't just a night shift – it's a night shift that makes it impossible to care for your children or maintain any kind of normal life.

Then there's Jeff Bezos's war on his workers' kidneys. Amazon warehouse workers and drivers notoriously have to pee in bottles, because they are monitored by algorithms that dock their pay for taking bathroom breaks. The road to Amazon's warehouse in Coventry, England is littered with sealed bottles of driver piss, defenestrated by drivers before they reach the depot inspection site.

There's so much piss on the side of the Coventry road that the prankster Oobah Butler was able to collect it, decant it into bottles, and market it on Amazon as an energy beverage called "Bitter Lemon Release Energy," where it briefly became Amazon's bestselling energy drink:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/20/release-energy/#the-bitterest-lemon

(Butler promises that he didn't actually ship any bottled piss to people who weren't in on the gag – but let's just pause here and note how weird it is that a guy who hates our kidneys as much as Jeff Bezos built and flies a penis-shaped rocket.)

Butler also secretly joined the surge of 1,000 workers that Amazon hired for the Coventry warehouse in advance of a union vote, with the hope of diluting the yes side of that vote and forestall the union. Amazon displayed more of its famously selective competence here, spotting Butler and firing him in short order, while totally failing to notice that he was marketing bottles of driver piss as a bitter lemon drink on Amazon's retail platform.

After a long fight, Amazon's Coventry workers are finally getting their union vote, thanks to the GMB union's hard fought battle at the Central Arbitration Committee:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/04/26/amazon-warehouse-workers-in-coventry-will-vote-on-trade-union-recognition/

And right on schedule, Amazon has once again discovered its incredible facility for ease-of-use. The company has blanketed its shop floor with radioactively illegal "one click to quit the union" QR codes. When a worker aims their phones at the code and clicks the link, the system auto-generates a letter resigning the worker from their union.

As noted, this is totally illegal. English law bans employers from "making an offer to an employee for the sole or main purpose of inducing workers not to be members of an independent trade union, take part in its activities, or make use of its services."

Now, legal or not, this may strike you as a benign intervention on Amazon's part. Why shouldn't it be easy for workers to choose how they are represented in their workplaces? But the one-click system is only half of Amazon's illegal union-busting: the other half is delivered by its managers, who have cornered workers on the shop floor and ordered them to quit their union, threatening them with workplace retaliation if they don't.

This is in addition to more forced "captive audience" meetings where workers are bombarded with lies about what life in an union shop is like.

Again, the contrast couldn't be more stark. If you want to quit a union, Amazon makes this as easy as joining Prime. But if you want to join a union, Amazon makes that even harder than quitting Prime. Amazon has the same attitude to its workers and its customers: they see us all as a resource to be extracted, and have no qualms about tricking or even intimidating us into doing what's best for Amazon, at the expense of our own interests.

The campaigning law-firm Foxglove is representing five of Amazon's Coventry workers. They're doing the lord's work:

https://www.foxglove.org.uk/2024/05/02/legal-challenge-to-amazon-uks-new-one-click-to-quit-the-union-tool/

All this highlights the increasing divergence between the UK and the US when it comes to labor rights. Under the Biden Administration, @NLRB General Counsel Jennifer Abruzzo has promulgated a rule that grants a union automatic recognition if the boss does anything to interfere with a union election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/06/goons-ginks-and-company-finks/#if-blood-be-the-price-of-your-cursed-wealth

In other words, if Amazon tries these tactics in the USA now, their union will be immediately recognized. Abruzzo has installed an ultra-sensitive tilt-sensor in America's union elections, and if Bezos or his class allies so much as sneeze in the direction of their workers' democratic rights, they automatically lose.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/06/one-click-to-quit-the-union/#foxglove

Image: Isabela.Zanella (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ballot-box-2.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[theghostofashton]

.

[shirecorn]

this is a bit silly but i have strabismus and i never see anyone make designs with it. so thanks! it made me feel really nice!

I know four people with strabismus! It's actually really common occurrence in real life.

This particular design based on the canon appearance of a My Little Pony character.

In both canon and fandom, she is shown to be extremely clumsy, makes many mistakes, and speaks in somewhat of a monotone. A lot of people consider her autistic-coded.

Both autism and strabismus are great! But misaligned eyes have been used as a shorthand for stupidity in animation and comics for a very long time. So I don't like to pair them, personally.

Apparently strabismus does occur more frequently in autistic people! But there are way more people who have it who are allistic.

I'm of the opinion that you can pair traits together that just happen to align with stereotypes as long as you have those traits represented separately in other characters. There's quite a few ponies who are easy to interpret as autistic, but she's the only one I can think of with strabismus, and unfortunately her personality is easy to write off as "stupid." A good way to fix this without changing the character is to have a variety of other allistic characters with strabismus and other traits that don't reinforce stereotypes.

The same goes for other over-done tropes that combine traits. If your only gay character is a cop, that's suspect like you're just checking boxes. But if you have lots of gays in a variety of professions then cop becomes just one of the many flavors of gay. The same goes for childlike or autistic asexuals, and ethnic stereotypes like aggressive black characters, or tech-support indians. All of these people exist! But they also exist (much more frequently) without those combinations. So adding diversity to your world is important.

I don't think I have any ocs with strabismus, so I'll bestow the honor on one or several of them. I'm glad my art made you feel nice, I hope to do more of that in the future!

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

You mentioned that snakes in Africa are under-prioritised, and that you did your internship there. Why are they under-prioritised compared to snakes from other places? Are they just under-prioritised in research, or in other aspects like care/treatment/etc as well?

Thank you for inviting me onto my soapbox!

Snakes from Africa are historically under-prioritized in herpetological research, but that certainly can skew towards how we care for African snakes as well. This is down to two major factors.

Historically, more funding has been allocated to research projects focused on describing new snakes in the Americas. Despite it being realistically more difficult to find and describe new species in, say, the Amazon, there's a common belief that "we've seen pretty much everything there is to find in Africa." We haven't!

The field of herpetology has historically ignored the testimonies of African people. It took decades for snakes in the Atractaspid family (the stiletto snakes) to be described as anything more than a single species because academia ignored the people who lived in their range telling us they were there and there are observable differences. Like, herpetologists even just a couple decades ago were going over, saying "hey what do you know about this," the locals would be like "oh yeah there are like fifteen of those here's what they look like" and then the researchers would be like "neat thanks" and just. Not take any of that into account. Just perpetually running all accounts from Africans through a billion layers of racism and mythologizing everything they say and it's ridiculous.

There are so many misconceptions even in academia about African snakes it is insane. I have had other herpetologists tell me to my face that ball pythons are only "in a narrow strip of Africa" and it's like.

I understand if you have no idea how big Africa is that seems "narrow" to you. But that's a wide range of habitats and conditions across a huge area and we need to account for that in the research of the diversity of python species and their adaptations. There's just an insane misconception that snakes from Africa all need "similar care" even though this is a huge continent with huge variations in environments.

"Oh, it's actually okay to keep African pythons in less humid conditions, Africa isn't humid"

Not all of Africa is has the same climate, for one, and not all of Africa is like just a desert. Ball pythons, for example, like it humid because in the wild they like to curl up inside termite mounds, where it's hot and humid.

You know, termite mounds, these things. Tell me again that it's okay to keep ball pythons in tiny boxes with no enrichment or climbing space.

This makes me so mad it's not even funny. I had a great time in South Africa but all my mentors (I was with the African Snakebite Institute, check 'em out, they're a great resource) were constantly having to fight for funding and dealing with misconceptions.

[matthewfuckinggraygubler]

Belayed kiss || Spencer Reid

· Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader · Category: Fluff · Warning: None · Words: 1455 · Summary : Losing your favorite book was a real downer, but having Spencer there to help you search through the chaos of your apartment was a lifesaver. That book was your escape, your safe haven. A spontaneous remark from you shifted the mood,revealing the feelings we'd both been hiding. It was like finding a hidden treasure.

· Spanish on Wattpad. English isn’t my first language, be kind!

· Masterlist

You’d been friends for a couple of years. Well, he would say “2 years, 4 months, 9 days” exactly. And even though no boundaries had ever been crossed and neither of you had wanted to take things further, somehow you both knew there was something more. Without wanting to admit it, because it would imply a shift in dynamics, and that was just too complicated.

It was a quiet morning in your small apartment, but you were anything but calm. The mess of books, cushions, and a few scattered empty coffee cups across the living room was a testament to your frantic search. You had been looking for your favorite book for days, and the frustration was starting to consume you. Spencer, being the good friend he was, had offered to help because this really was a drama for you.

The reason why that book was so important to you was more than just its content. It was a beautiful edition you had bought years ago; with a binding that made you feel safe, the embossed texture of the cover. Opening it filled you with a comforting scent, and each word on its pages embraced you when you needed it most. It was your refuge, your little escape when the world got too loud or confusing.

Spencer was crouched down, inspecting the stack of boxes you had piled in a corner, while you checked a bookshelf for the fourth time, hoping the book would magically materialize. You couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach, fearing it was truly lost forever.

Then, suddenly, Spencer broke the silence.

“I found it, it was behind this box, it must have fallen. You should be more organized…”

You spun on your heels, seeing Spencer stand up with the book in his hands, as intact as the last time you had seen it. The mixture of relief and joy was so overwhelming that the words flew out of your mouth before you could stop yourself.

“Oh my God!! Thank you!! I could kiss you right now!!”

The silence that followed was palpable. Spencer stood still, his eyes wide as he looked at you, as if trying to decipher whether you had actually said what he thought you had said.

“R-really…?” he asked. The tone of his voice, full of a mix of surprise and disbelief, made you realize what you had just implied.

Your reaction was immediate, laughing a little to ease the tension you noticed in him, brushing it off.

“Well, it’s just a figure of speech, Spencer.”

He nodded slowly, but there was something in his eyes, something you hadn’t seen before, and for a moment, you seemed to see through his calm and rational facade.

“Oh, right, sure… Okay.” He responded, but his voice had a different tone, one that almost seemed… disappointed.

You’d been friends for a couple of years. Well, he would say “2 years, 4 months, 9 days,” exactly. And in all that time, you had built a friendship that was invaluable to you. You shared almost everything: long conversations about the most diverse topics, movie nights, and discussions about literature that stretched into the early hours of the morning. But there was a line, a line neither of you had crossed, and for some reason, the idea of crossing it had always seemed terrifying.

As you sat on the couch, holding the book you had finally recovered, you realized the room was wrapped in an uncomfortable silence. Spencer had sat down beside you, but he was staring at the floor, clearly lost in his thoughts.

Your heart began to race, and you silently cursed yourself for making such an impulsive comment. However, there was something in his reaction that you couldn’t ignore. That spark of vulnerability in his eyes, that tone in his voice… Could it be that Spencer had been waiting for this, maybe even wanting it? That realization made you aware of how much you wanted it too.

The tension between you was now palpable, and you knew that no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, something had changed in the air. There was something more between you, something neither of you had wanted to admit, but now seemed impossible to keep ignoring, and you didn’t know how to go back.

You decided to take a deep breath and break the silence, feeling that if you didn’t, the discomfort would keep growing. And without even realizing it, the words came out, you didn’t think.

“Spence…” you said, your voice nervous, almost inaudible. “I think… I could kiss you right now…”

He turned to look at you with those intense brown eyes. The silence stretched, but this time it wasn’t uncomfortable. You could feel time slowing down, each second filled with a tension so thick it felt almost tangible. He held your gaze, that gaze that had always been a refuge for you, full of intelligence and warmth.

“R-really…?” he whispered, as if afraid it was a joke or a mistake. As if he wanted to make sure this time you meant it.

Your head moved slowly up and down, confirming it, you could feel the heat rising from your neck to your cheeks. Your heart was beating so loudly you were sure he could hear it too. But you couldn’t back down now, you didn’t want to.

Spencer didn’t say anything else. There was no need. Slowly, as if afraid to break the spell that surrounded you both, he leaned in towards you in a careful movement, but his eyes never left yours, searching for any trace of doubt. There wasn’t any.

When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was as if everything else disappeared. The outside world ceased to exist; there was no time, no space, only that moment, only you and Spencer. The kiss was soft, almost like a question, seeking an answer you both already knew. It was a kiss that had been building for years, full of all the unspoken words and unadmitted feelings. And in that instant, you knew everything had changed, but for the better.

You found yourself moving closer, your hands finding their way to his neck, while he let the book fall, already forgotten, to tangle his fingers in your hair. The kiss deepened, becoming more sure, more urgent, as if both of you were trying to make up for lost time.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathing heavily, but your foreheads remained together. A small smile formed on your lips, and you noticed Spencer smiling too, though with a touch of shyness that made him even more charming.

“I think… I should have kissed you a long time ago.” You murmured, not daring to break the closeness completely.

Spencer let out a soft laugh, his voice warm against your skin. “I’m not sure why we waited so long…”

You looked at him, and in his eyes, you found the same mixture of relief and joy.

“So… does this mean I get to kiss you every time I find a lost book?” he asked with a playful tone.

You playfully smacked his arm, laughing. “You don’t need me to lose a book to want to kiss me, Spencer.”

His eyes sparkled with a tenderness that made you melt. “Can I kiss you now, then?”

You nodded without a second thought, and when his lips found yours again, you knew that no matter how many times you kissed, it would always feel special, intense, like that first kiss. Suddenly, you didn’t feel the need to seek refuge in your book. You felt like you were exactly where you wanted to be. The uncertainty and doubts faded away, and you realized that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you wanted to be, where all the pieces fit perfectly, in Spencer Reid’s · Requests via DM ·

[furiousgoldfish]

One thing that helped me to stop seeking for approval of others, was realizing how people utilize approval for their own benefit.

There isn't an all-approved system of who gets the approval, and who doesn't, according to all humanity; people are selective with their approval, and a lot of people will give you approval only and specifically if your actions benefit them personally. For instance, your neighbour will approve if you do chores for them, if you spend your time taking care of their needs, if you give them emotional support, and never ask for anything. Because that's their agenda, right, having others do things for them, in return for, well, possibly nothing. Most people will be approving if you're directly benefiting them, and disapprove if you do anything that inconveniences them, or clashes with their beliefs or traditions.

Some of conservative people save their approval only for those who fit the narrow definition of how they believe people should be; and there's not any space for diversity. You can't be openly mentally ill, or homosexual, or nonconforming to traditional roles of what people should be and do. Sometimes you also have to be a certain race and nationality, or even a certain gender to be approved of; it's not something you have any control over, not something you can do to deserve to be good enough in their eyes. And if you don't happen to fall into the small group of people who check those boxes, you better put your head down and shut up about anything you think or feel, because these people don't believe you should have a voice. So there's no sense in seeking their approval, they should be categorized as enemies. But sometimes these people are your parents, so you're naturally inclined to want their approval despite it being both bad for you, and unreachable.

Then there's also rigorously religious people, who save their approval only for the agenda of the religion; you can have the approval if you're following their religion in the way they feel is 'correct', or if you're willing to convert. Anything else, you're disapproved of, you're sorted into the box of 'sinners'. Sometimes these people are in a religious cult, and want you to join. Sometimes their judgment comes from what they've been taught by leaders who only had their own benefit in mind.

Predators will have endless approval for you, as long as you're willing to be violated by them whenever they feel like they can get away with it. Especially devastating for children who don't yet realize they're being violated at all, and who'll do anything for a bit of that approval.

I've met people who approved of me for the things I least liked about myself, and had the least control of; my politeness, my eagerness to fawn and please them, my fear of disappointing them, my silence when I wasn't feeling okay. I would be disapproved as soon as I tried to breach out; if I spoke out my feelings, disapproval, if I attempted to prioritize my own needs, disapproval. It's an easy way to control a person who is sensitive to rejection and perceives disapproval as rejection. It means causing pain to someone when they don't do as you wish.

And the thing is when you're abused and starved for approval, sometimes you're ready to fit other people's agenda just to get a little glimpse of it. You're ready to please people endlessly, maybe to join a religion or a political group, you're ready to believe their ideals, tolerate a predator or an abuser, because then they'll smile at you, tell you that you're doing good, praise you, make you feel like you belong for a second. Sometimes we're not even aware we're doing so much for just so little, and we're not aware that the ideals we're following are not in our benefit, are not something we should support at all. That we'll come out on the other side traumatized, with them not being affected at all, or caring about the mountains of effort and sacrifice we put into that relationship.

One thing that is almost never approved in society is being open about things people don't want to think about, or talk about. What happens in abusive families, what is done to children who are left alone with sadistic, manipulative adults who believe they have the right to hurt and control any child they had, how often are children exposed to pedophiles or even sexually abused by their own family members, what are the consequences of that for the child, what difficulties they face later in life. There's nothing bad in discussing this; in fact, having it out in the open gives people a chance to condemn child abuse, to turn against child abusers and predators, to predict where future abuse could occur and prevent it, to help children be more safe. But it's uncomfortable to accept the problem of abuse in their own community, so people will disapprove anyone even attempting it.

The system of approval is not universal, you'll have people approve and disapprove different things on you regardless of what you do and how you do it, but if you think about why they're doing it, it becomes clear what their agenda and intentions are. They're trying to build a world where they want to live in, (or keep up an illusion of it) and sometimes, it's not a world that you want to live in. These are not people who know how it is to be you, or how much it takes to live your life. They don't know or understand what you've been trough, they're looking at you only in the manner of how they could shape you to be what they want. Their approval is not for your own benefit. It's for theirs.

So you can do it to them too. You can decide what is good and what isn't, because you have an understanding of your own life, better than anyone else has, and you can see what in the world you want, and what your own agenda is. You can disapprove of people who try to stand in your way, or who would keep you in pain and silence just to have their illusions untouched. You can tell them you have no interest in helping their agenda because it only furthers the amount of suffering on earth.

And if they act like your opinion doesn't have a value, or you 'haven't lived long enough to have a correct opinion', then they'll never hold you on equal ground. Notice they never come up with that stuff when your opinion is the same as theirs, only when it differs, then you're not smart enough to speak. It's senseless to argue with people who look down on you for speaking out, without ever engaging with your argument, without being willing to see things from your perspective for even a second, especially after you've indulged with theirs. Them looking down on you doesn't mean you're wrong. It means they're not willing to hear you out.

Once you establish your own values and morals that you want to pursue, you can live your life according to them, and then you can approve of yourself. If you know what traits are important to you, and you have them, and you live according to them, you can evaluate yourself, and figure that you're okay. Other people can disagree, but without a significant insight in your life, your goals and your struggles, their opinions hold no weight. It's likely their disapproval comes from you not fitting perfectly into their agenda, rather than you failing at anything personally. You can decide you're good enough. Your evaluation is more important than theirs.

[aggressivelyarospec]

Welcome (back) to #AggressivelyArospectacular!

#AggressivelyArospectacular is a week-long event promoting the creation of original content in arospec communities.

Are you arospec? Do you want to rave about your OCs? To share your poetry, your collages, your music? Do you make short-films or jewelry? Have you always dreamt of making a fashion lookbook? Or anything else? In short, do you create?

Because if so, this event is here for you!

From the 12th to the 18th of November, submit any original creative content you want us to see by tagging it as #AggressivelyArospectacular (in the first five tags) or sending us a link through our submission box. Your work will then be shared on this blog for our community to enjoy.

Your work does not have to specifically focus on arospec experiences (but we always appreciate a content warning if your piece features romantic content.)

Please, note that this event focuses specifically on original content. If you want to share your fanart, fanfic or other kind of fancontent with us, kindly wait for our other event, #AggressivelyArospecWeek, which is held in June every year!

We encourage you to submit as many pieces in as many different mediums as you like! We would love to be able to spam other people’s dash with art for a whole week.

Let’s show the world how diverse and creative the arospec community is!

(For more information, check out our about page and FAQ section. You can find all the content submitted in previous editions in our #AggressivelyArospectacular tag.)

[desertdollranch]

Opening and reviewing my first Australian Girl doll

She spent more than a month in a box, making her way halfway across the world to her new home, and now here she is! I'm so relieved that she arrived safely. It was the longest I've ever had to wait for a doll, and through much of her journey I didn't know where she was or when she would be here.

I don't want to drop too big of a spoiler, but listen to this........ she was so worth the wait, and the money. This doll instantly won my heart with how exquisite she is in every way.

Australian Girl dolls were specially made for Australian children, by Helen Schofield, a grandmother who loved dolls. She created the brand when she couldn't find an age appropriate doll that was locally available or good quality. So she created these dolls to help children feel pride in Australian culture, while teaching them about friendship and empathy. There are five girls to befriend--Amy, Jasmine, Emily, Bronte, and Matilda, each representing a different region of the country, ethnicity, and lifestyle.

The company itself has quite high standards. They strive to reduce waste in their product packaging, and they use a factory in China that treats its workers humanely and does not use child labor.

If you've been around my blog for a while, you know how much I love collecting diverse brands and types of play dolls, especially international dolls. Also, this one will be extra special because I actually have an Australian grandmother--she's also a doll collector, and I'm looking forward to showing her my new doll the next time I see her.

After the cut, I'll show you who she is, and talk about why I chose her. I'll compare her with similar-sized dolls as well, and have her do some dressing up.

Before we get to the unboxing, let's check out the little goodies included with my doll.

First is a little pamphlet explaining why the dolls are special, but also represent real girls growing up in Australia.

There's another pamphlet about how to care for your doll.

All of the dolls come with a fun freebie: this cute pair of thongs.

Another freebie (a $30 AUD value) is this very sturdy doll carrier with pockets for accessories.

I also bought a pair of sneakers for my new girl. I figured her feet would be a bit larger than my other dolls, and these are cute, so she now has three pairs of shoes to wear.

Anyway. Enough of the small stuff. Let's let her out of the box.

It's Amy from Adelaide!

I chose Amy after three entire years of being indecisive and going back and forth on exactly which Australian Girl I wanted. They're all equally adorable, so I picked Amy because her personality seems very sweet, and I love that she has mixed heritage. According to the Austrlaian Girl dolls website, Amy's family tree is a mix of Aboriginal and Dutch on her mother's side, and English and Indian/Fijian on her father's side. Very representative of modern Australia!

I have no regrets. She is perfect!!! Just the most charming little angel. I am officially WOWED.

I'm seriously impressed at the superior quality of her construction. I understand why she was priced a bit higher than similar dolls. She is, from head to toe, beautifully made, with so many sweet details. Her dress and shoes are also impeccably made and feel very durable.

Her hair is flawless. It's a Kanekalon wig with loose curls, in a gorgeous shade of brown. Her eyes open and close. She has both painted and attached eyelashes.

She has a gap between her big toe and the next toe, so she can wear her sandals and thongs.

Her elbows are dimpled and she has subtle blush color on parts of her skin, including elbows and hands.

She has a crease across her palm.

She has articulation at her shoulders, hips, and neck. Her limbs, head, and shoulders are vinyl, and she has a huggable soft tummy. I don't really have a strong preference for either cloth torsos, vinyl torsos, or half and half like Amy. They all have pros and cons. This specific construction is nice in that she can wear low-neckline clothes without showing a cloth body, but it does make her harder to repair in case she has to be fixed.

I have a pretty good idea of what she'll be wearing when she's ready to change out of her pink party dress.

The first photo shows her in a dress I made. The second is a Maplelea dress and hat. The rest are all American Girl brand clothing, except for the shoes. Amy can comfortably wear most stretchy clothes by AG and similar brands like Our Generation, but her feet absolutely will not fit AG, OG, or Maplelea shoes.

The exception to the clothes is some of the tighter pieces. This AG shirt did not fit well. Amy's shoulders are a bit more broad than smaller dolls, and so without some extra give this is too tight.

Amy is 20 inches/51 centimeters tall. Here she is next to my Our Generation doll Jordana. I'm using an OG doll because they're actually available locally in Australia. Whereas American Girl dolls, which I usually use when I compare brands, have to make an overseas journey. So it's only fair that I consider any Australians reading this now who are wondering how Amy compares.

Amy is tall, but not the tallest doll in the family! Here she is next to Fernanda, my Karito Kids doll, who is about an inch taller although slimmer. Karito Kids dolls are in fact just slightly skinnier than American Girl dolls, so they have a much easier time sharing clothes.

In conclusion, I highly highly recommend this doll. She's absolutely sublime! I'm so thrilled to have her here, and I'm looking forward to having lots of adventures with her.

Obviously I'm far from Australia, but my Amy will still live her life as if she were in a suburb outside of the city of Adelaide. I've been looking at pictures of the geography of the state of South Australia, and there are some places in the mountainous parts that look pretty similar to the desert southwest where I live. So Amy will have no idea she's actually in the USA. Don't tell her the truth!

[thewarfox]

DEI is racist.

I wrote this as a comment to a youtube video, but I am relatively certain that it will get shadowbanned. I'm pretty happy with the thoughts I wrote down, so I decided to bring them over here: The reason DEI has a negative inclination is the same reason that Affirmative Action has a negative inclination. Even if the person being hired is qualified, you cannot be certain they got the position because of their merits, or because of their 'diverse' qualities. Let's say that, hypothetically, you have two equally qualified candidates that have to be decided between. One has to be picked. The only difference between them is that one is a white man, and one is a black woman. Same age, same education, same records, everything else is equal. When you have a culture of DEI, you immediately run into a problem. If you DON'T hire the black woman, you risk being called a racist and a sexist. If you do hire her, you risk being accused of picking her for her immutable characteristics instead of for her qualifications. On the side of the hypothetical black woman, if you get picked for the job, you can't be completely certain that you were picked for your qualifications, or if you were picked for your God-given characteristics. On the side of the hypothetical white man, if you get picked for the job, you can't be completely certain that you were picked for your qualifications, or if you were picked because your employer is a racist or sexist. There are obviously other possibilities, but we're trying to narrow the thought experiment for simplicity. By utilizing DEI, you are putting discrimination on the table. You are stating that you have an agenda to shape your workplace based on categories that have nothing to do with qualifications. You are subjecting people hired under it to be insecure about the circumstances of their employment, and their true role in the organization. Are they there to do a job, or are they there to check off a box? Have they really earned the position, or are they being used to signal to outside observers? And finally, like any system humanity creates, people take advantage of it. Does it happen very often? Hopefully not. But it certainly does happen, however rarely. And the fear that the people you're hiring might be a grifter of some kind does poison the well. A rotten apple can spoil the bunch. It can breed distrust of potential selectees based off of the actions of a few bad actors. It opens the door for behaviors and worries and conflicts that don't need to exist. There are places where DEI has no place, and everything works fine. Take basketball for instance. You don't see anyone saying that a certain percentage of asian or white players need to be on every team to reflect the population. Any team that does such a thing will likely be at a competitive disadvantage to the teams that don't do it. They are composing the teams of the best players, and they happen to mostly be black, and no one has a problem with this. DEI didn't have to be implemented to get black people onto the teams, their own skill, ability, and effectiveness got them there. If they failed to get onto the teams because the rules forced them to hire other people for the team, how many black basketballers would not be able to get on the team when they otherwise would? In fact, one could say that DEI-like thinking kept black players out of basketball in the early days, and only when teams started taking risks by hiring them, and they started winning games more as a result, the inherent competitiveness of sport demanded that other teams had to hire black players as well if they didn't want to be left behind. It was only by abolishing a policy of composing a team by race that the sport was allowed to take its modern, superior shape. DEI is not a recipe for competitiveness. It is inherently anticapitalistic. It promotes unhealthy discrimination. It opens the door for ugly and unhealthy criticism. It calls into question the capabilities of people, and whether they are qualified for their positions.

[yaekiss]

#Mailroom Open! If you still have open slots/want to do this <3

I'd like this letter to go to Tighnari, please and thank you! Subtle yandere and SFW. Thank you again!

The contents of the letter are as follows:

"Tighnari!

Things have been absolutely marvelous in Mondstadt. Your idea to visit my family was genius. It's been a long time since I've been back home. My mother asked why you didn't accompany me, isn't that cute? She called you her future son in law.. Then asked when we'd be giving her grandbabies.

I have been missing you to pieces though, my love. You would love a few of my friends over here, they're interested to learn more about you! Well.. aside from one. He seemed a bit upset when I gushed about you. But never mind that! How are things back home with you? How is Collei? Please let her know that Amber sends her regards. But most importantly! How are you?

I also hope that the package I sent gets to you safely. I thought you'd really appreciate my finds.

Love you so much!

-♡"

The package itself is smaller in size, yet still larger than the envelope sent. Inside the box are new glass storage jars, made for storing herbs and spices. Aside from the jars, there's a hand woven bracelet. It matches with Tighnari's typical attire, and is woven in order to prevent fraying or breakage. There's another, tiny sticky note at the bottom of the box with a doodle of Tighnari and his partner. They're stick figures and holding hands.

꩜ Letter Content: GN! Reader x Slight Yan! Tighnari, SFW, no gendered terms for reader, possessiveness from Tighnari, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ Delivery Notes: Tighnari was absolutely covered in pollen when I picked up his package in Sumeru, HAHA! However, judging from his droopy ears and tail, I think he really misses you :( ꩜ Wanna write a love letter yourself? Check out it out here!

Sent back to you is a small, lovingly handmade, woven basket that you recognise to be the handiwork of Tighnari. Weaved between the strips of dried Kalpalata lotus vines are cute tiny flowers native to the forested area around Gandharva Ville. There’s a ribbon tied around the handle in your favourite colour that’s lightly scented with the perfume of Sumeru roses.

A dark green fabric that matches his fur colour sits nicely atop the contents of the basket, it’s embroidered with the stick figure drawing of you and Tighnari. The Tighnari stick figure is made of thread in a light emerald green that’s the colour of his eyes while your doodle is woven in a gorgeous shade identical to yours. There are extra little hearts floating around the two of you in the embroidered picture too, how cute! 

Removing the embroidered cloth cover from the basket, you first take his letter out. Reaching into the envelope, the first thing you pull out is pressed Nilotpala lotus petals. They retain a delicate faint glimmer of how they shone when they bloomed at night and infuse the parchment in the envelope with their light floral scent. His reply is written in his usual scrawling handwriting you see in his research journals but there's an underlying tenderness present. You think he makes a noticeable effort to ensure that his words are more legible, especially just for you. His response reads:

“My dearest lotus,

It’s about time you wrote back! Just before I got your letter, I was going to mail you a lengthy lecture regarding important safety tips while one is travelling. Really, with your extended silence, I was worried about you for a bit, lotus. It's good to hear you're enjoying your time in Mondstadt with your family though, how’s the flora diversity there? I do hope you bring me back some flower and mushroom samples.

Collei too sends Amber her very enthusiastic regards, she was so excited at the mention of Amber, the way her eyes lit up was precious, I wish you were there to see it, lotus. Now, I’m sure with your keen eye you’ve noticed all the flowers included in the basket. I can’t take all the credit, it was Collei who helped to collect the flowers for the basket. She came back with so many that we spent almost a whole afternoon just picking out the best ones for you. Seriously, you should’ve seen the way she came into the hut with her arms full of flowers, I didn’t even know how she could see in front of her!

Also, new jars! You know me so well, how did you figure out I was running out of them? Gods, thinking about the hassle of procuring them gave me such a headache. You really are my saviour, gods, I miss you so much… Please come back soon, lotus, I’m getting sick of longing for you. Your lovely handmade bracelet has done well in curbing the urge to go over to Mondstadt to sweep you back up in my arms. It’s beautiful and I appreciate all the work you put into such a sweet gift, lotus. I’d never take off the bracelet, ever.

I’d hate to nag but do take care of yourself alright, it worries me to be so far away from you. (this part is written in a small font, but squinting, it reads out) Especially where you can meet with all sorts of people… and that friend of yours you mentioned. Ugh, I feel my headache coming back.

Help me pass my well wishes on to your mother, and tell her that calling me her “future son-in-law” is not too far off from the truth. Write more often to me alright, lotus? Hearing from you helps keep my longing in check. Come back soon!

Ever awaiting your return,

-Tighnari -”

Tucked underneath, is a sealed bag of dried mushrooms, the kind that Tighnari favours the most. It warms your heart to know that he’s willing to part with the stash of his favourite shrooms to make sure you’re eating well in another region. Tacked on are some collated recipes for the ingredient, with little notes scribbled in the margins on how the default recipe can be improved after gathering feedback from many many many rounds of him cooking it for you. Everything is so sappily domestic that you’re sure your mother would coo over how adorable the two of you are when she finds out about his gift.

And finally, there’s a small box at the side, crafted in the form of a lotus using expertly preserved Kalpalata lotus petals. Gingerly opening up the petals reveals an exquisite ring resting in the centre, woven from sturdy plant stems entwined with golden fibres that almost seem to shine. The stems are fortified with a sheer shimmer of dendro (no doubt Tighnari’s) so that it endures, staying evergreen. Included is a tag reading: “A temporary placeholder for an engagement ring, so that no pest steals you from my side while you’re away ♡”

Slipping it on, it fits perfectly, snugly home on your ring finger. You’ve never told him your ring size though, lucky guess?

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[tgm-all4one]

On May 27, 2022, Top Gun: Maverick was released exclusively into theaters. Almost overnight, it became a cultural phenomenon with a fandom of individuals from all over the globe who loved the movie and its characters.

One of the fantastic things about the TG and TGM fandom is the diverse and innovative creators who have used these movies as inspiration for their art. Whether that be in the form of writing, fanart, GIFs, moodboards, edits, etc, we have all taken the same 4 hours and 1 minute of film to create unbelievably varied and original content. And that is what this challenge is about.

What is the "It's not the prompt. It's the creator." challenge?

The idea behind the "It's not the prompt. It's the creator." challenge is to show that even though we might all use similar tropes or AUs, or create GIFs of the same scenes, or use the same moodboard themes, it is our own personal creativity, innovation, and preferences that make our work unique.

So unlike other challenges, everyone will be using the exact same prompt. That's it. One prompt. And an unlimited amount of participants.

And yes, there will probably be art that is similar (either the tropes, themes, characters, etc), however the point is to show that even when two creators have similar independent ideas, their final creation is unique because they put their own original spin on it that only they could do.

What is the prompt?

To celebrate the one-year anniversary of Top Gun: Maverick being released, the prompt is:

"Last summer was one no one could ever forget. Now, a year later, character(s) still feel(s) the effects of that time."

Be as creative as you want and feel free to use any characters from Top Gun (1986) and/or Top Gun: Maverick (2022). Also, while the prompt says a year has passed, there is no set time your art has to be set. It can be pre-canon, post-canon, during-canon, and AU setting, etc. Whatever inspires you!

What is allowed?

Whatever you want. It can be SFW, NSFW, slash, reader insert, OC, no relationship, poly, AU, fluff, smut, angst, whump, etc.

You can also use whatever your preferred medium is to fill the prompt. Writing, artworks, GIF sets, edits, moodboards, playlists, Pinterest boards, etc. Or think out of the box and build a scene out of Legos, make a stop-motion video, draw a flipbook. Whatever inspires you and your creativity! If you created it, it counts.

And there are no minimums or maximums limits for words, time, number of GIFs, etc. Just however much or little you want to share, even if it is still a WIP.

There are only three requirements:

TAG YOUR WORK APPROPRIATELY so others can filter out what they might not be comfortable with. Each post will be checked before being reblogged, however, mistakes can be made so please tag them correctly.

You must be 18+ to participate. Due to the freedom of the event and the fact NSFW content is allowed, only those 18 or older may participate. And if your blog does not have any age indicated on it (18+, 20s, over 21, 35, etc.), your post will not be reblogged. I am very sorry to any minors hoping to participate at this time.

No AI resources can be used as part of a submission. While AI can create cool works of art, they aren't your works of art. As that is the point of this challenge, it will not be permitted.

When does the event take place?

The event will start on Saturday, May 27 and run until Saturday, June 4. However, if you can't finish in time and post after that, this blog will try its best to still reblog your work whenever you feel ready to post.

How do we submit our work?

You can do this one of two ways:

Post your work on your blog as usual and tag @tgm-all4one. Also, tag the post with #tgm all4one. It will then be reblogged here throughout the week.

Submit a post to this blog using the "Submit your papers" button in the blog header. As long as it is tagged correctly, the blog will then post it throughout the week.

There is also an AO3 collection if you prefer to share over there. Please check the FAQ page for the link.

Please check out the FAQ page if you have any questions and please feel free to reach out either through an ask or DM if you have any questions! There is also a condensed version of this post here for quick reference.

I am excited to see what everyone comes up with and happy Top Gun: Maverick anniversary!

[kcyars99]

This is Imane Khelif. She is a boxer from Algeria. 🇩🇿

You're probably going to be hearing a lot about her from your bigoted uncle this weekend, especially now that everyone's least-favorite bigoted aunt, J.K. Rowling, has offered her incredibly worthless opinion on today's fight between two cis (aka BiOLoGiCaL for y'all that need that) women.

Things worth noting: 🇮🇹 The boxer who quit today's fight--Angela Carini of Italy--said her quitting wasn't political and that she was not passing judgment on Khelif's eligibility. She said the shot to her nose did something different to her than most hits she's ever taken.

🇹🇼 Last year, Imane (along with Taiwan's Lin Yu-ting) faced a ruling by the International Boxing Association that they--despite being cis or 'BioLoGiCaL🥴' women--had "advantages" of a genetic nature, leading to a decision not to let them fight.

🇺🇸 U.S. swimmer Michael Phelps, celebrated as the greatest swimmer of all time, has a genetic condition where his body produces half of the lactic acid of a normal cis man. For this biological quirk (along with his hyper-mobility) he is lauded.

🇩🇿 Algerian sports officials and other Algerian athletes have spoken in Imane's defense, including national team soccer player ​​Ismaël Bennacer who said Khelif is "suffering a wave of unjustified hatred."

🥇 The Olympics do not recognize IBA or its rulings and carried out their own set of testing standards which every athlete you see competing had to pass.

🇯🇵 Imane also fought at the Tokyo Olympics in 2021, where she was beaten in the quarterfinals by Irish boxer Kellie Harrington--another 'BioLoGiCaL🥴' woman.

🥊 For the weirdos who obsess over genitals, this person was born with a vagina. Meaning that by y'all's weird rules where you want to check in kids' pants before they compete, Imane would be deemed "girl athlete."

🏊 Meanwhile, Katie Ledecky today became the most decorated women's swimmer ever by pulling in a silver medal, after yesterday continuing her long streak of dominating everyone in the world in the 1500, where she holds the top TWENTY best times. Ever. And people on the internet spent the day calling her a man.

🧨 This should be a nonissue, but JOANNE and Elon and your bigoted uncle are latching onto it because they want to continue to push the deadly narrative against trans folks via any possible means. Even in a case where the person they're demonizing isn't trans in the first damn place. If she as a cis woman has more testosterone than other cis women athletes, well, that's not all that uncommon. Y'all wanna tell women with PCOS that they're not really women?

🩺 I don't know how many times I've shared that Open Ocean Exploration thread, by a literal biologist, explaining how common it is that people have sex variations that they don't even know about. I'll share it again since it's just about the most concise look at X/Y diversity I've ever seen. It's really wild to watch folks who copied off of my in high school biology act like they know more than actual scientists and doctors every single time I post it. --Find that post here:

#ParisOlympics2024

#OlympiansMadeHere

#olympicsboxing

(This originally called Joanne a bigoted uncle while still using her correct pronouns which I think conveys that she's basically the living embodiment of everyone's metaphorical racist uncle, gender be damned, but a few people felt it was misgendering her which was very much not the point so I changed it just to stop infighting since there's already plenty enough fighting with actual bigots to be doing.)

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Chapter Six: One Helluva Party

Gale Cleven × Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: John Egan’s birthday was always a special affair, even when Ruth is causing the whole base stress trying to arrange a surprise party. But Hope doesn’t mind, she’s able to spend some time with her beloved fiancé, Gale and they might even get some time alone.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

Wednesday, September 8th: AAF Grove, Berkshire: 2200 HRS

Ruth’s boots thudded against the cement floor of the girls’ hut as she paced up and down the center aisle. The blonde held a slip of paper, pouring over the list on it endlessly.

“Streamers, check. Distracting John duty, check. Cha-”

“Ruth,” Hope groaned. “Go to bed. You’ve looked over that list a million times.”

Her steps halted and she turned to her friend with a sigh. “I just want his party to be perfect.”

“I know you do, but you have nothing to worry about. Tatty and Helen are getting everything taken care of until we can get up there tomorrow. Please go to sleep, Rue.” Hope rolled over on her small cot, turning away from her pacing friend.

“Fine,” Ruth relented, tossing the list onto her nightstand before sliding beneath her covers. She rolled over to face Hope, her lips pursed in thought. “Do you think-”

“Go to sleep.”

Her mind wouldn’t shut off as she continued to worry about the party. “But what-”

“Ruth! Just shut up and sleep.” Hope didn’t even open her eyes to scold her this time, and she pulled the covers up over her head.

“Okay,” she sighed quietly, turning onto her back, her mind still racing over all the events for the following day. She only hoped that everything would go according to plan.

The Next Day: Sep. 9th: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich: 1500 HRS

The previous night was filled with restless sleep for Ruth, and her nervousness battled excitement in her chest when Frank discreetly pulled up behind the Red Cross hut.

“I’m not your personal chauffeur, you know,” he sassed, turning off the engine. “I don’t like wasting my day passes to take you two up here.”

Hope rolled her eyes as she got out of the car. “But you still do it each time we ask, don’t you?”

Frank mumbled some choice words under his breath, helping the girls unload their bags from the trunk of the car. “I only do this so I know you get here safely. With your navigation skills and Ruth’s nerves, who the hell knows where you’d end up.”

Hope just glared at him with narrowed eyes. She wasn't that bad of a navigator but they missed one turn once and he’d given her hell for it ever since.

Helen and Tatty hurried down the steps to greet them, both quickly embracing the girls. The four had become good friends over their multiple visits to Thorpe Abbott and their reunions always resulted in a big hug.

“You two ready for tonight,” Tatty asked, hurrying Ruth and Hope inside.

“You betcha, Ruth’s been driving me up the wall planning the damn thing. I’ve been waiting for her to have a nervous breakdown over it.” Hope smiled fondly at Ruth who just continued to chew her lip anxiously.

The blonde sighed. “I just want everything to be perfect…it has to be.”

“And it will be Ruth,” Helen placed an arm around Ruth’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, everything is in hand.”

“The boys are on a mission and won’t be back until around four this afternoon. I’ve got Cleven and Armstrong on diversion duty to keep John as far away from the Officers’ Club as possible,” Tatty informed them, bundling a box of bunting underneath her arm. “We’ve got our work cut out ladies, but I think we can pull this off.”

The first order of business was to get the decorations up.

The women carefully draped colorful streamers from every surface possible, and by the time they were through, the bland dance hall and bar were vibrant with color. Ruth removed the wrinkled list from her pocket, checking off the “decorate club” box from her to-do’s.

“Alright. What do we have left?” Tatty asked, walking over to Ruth.

The nurse glanced down at her list with a hum, then suddenly her eyes widened and she gasped, throwing a hand over her mouth. “The banner! I can’t believe I forgot! It’s in the car, I’ll be right back.”

She left the club in a tizzy, the door closing behind her with a slam. Hope, Tatty, and Helen all shared a worried glance as the loud sound echoed through the hall.

“You’re right, Hope. She’s too wound up about this,” Helen said as she picked up the box of leftover decorations.

A sigh left Hope’s lips. “ She wants John to have the best birthday possible. He means so much to her.”

“I think the feeling’s mutual,” Tatty chuckled, thinking back to when the pair rumbled up to her hut the week before. “I’ve never seen John wrapped around a woman’s finger before, but Ruth’s done it. I didn’t think it was possible.”

Smiling softly, Hope twisted the engagement ring around her finger and thought about how much their lives changed in such a short time. “Yep. She’s something else, alright.”

“And I’ve never seen Gale as happy, either,” Helen added with a smirk.

Hope ducked her head blushing as she glanced down at the engagement ring adoring her finger, “I know things may seemed rush, but when you know, you know. I couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.”

Tatty groaned in the background about how sickeningly in love they were, causing the two girls to laugh.

“Well, I’m very happy for you, Hope, and looking at that ring your man has taste.”

Hope chuckled, “Actually…”

The back door swung open, and Ruth rushed in holding a folded-up sheet. The woman’s curls were disheveled and her cheeks were bright red as she leaned against the door, out of breath. “They-,” she panted, her chest heaving. “They’re back.”

“Rue, you alright?” Hope asked, concern etching her face. “Why are you breathing like you just ran a marathon?”

“Because I was getting out of the car and then I saw John on a truck, so I dove back into the back seat and wait-,” she held up a hand to them, pausing to breathe heavily. “Waited for him to go into a building and then I bolted.”

Tatty eyes flicked down to her watch quickly. “They’re right on time, then. It’s already 16:30.”

“What?!” Ruth blurted as a wave of panic coursed through her. “Everyone will be here in an hour and we still haven’t gotten the banner up!”

Hope put a hand on her shoulder. “Rue.”

“And I still need to get-”

“Ruth!”

Finally, her worry-filled sky-blue eyes snapped to her friend’s. “What?”

“You need to calm down,” Hope said gently but firmly. “Everything looks perfect. Johnny’s going to love it.

Just as the night before, Ruth’s mind refused to turn it down a notch, and she sighed. “We still need to hang the happy birthday banner, Hope.”

“We’ll do that and then we’re done, alright?” Hope asked, squeezing her shoulder comfortably before looking at the two other women. “You two good to hang up the banner? I’ve got to get her all dolled up.”

Ruth opened her mouth to object but Hope shot her a glare, sending the blonde’s gaze to the floor. She couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety that gnawed at her insides. She knew she was being irrational, but the pressure to make everything flawless was overwhelming.

Helen nodded with a small smile, taking the banner from Ruth. “That sounds like a plan. You two go get ready in our hut! We’ll see you in a bit!”

The dark-haired nurse practically dragged Ruth from the officer’s club to the Red Cross hut where they quickly got ready. Hope helped re-curl the falling waves in her best friend’s golden hair, and from the way she chewed on her bottom lip, Hope knew she was thinking about her Major.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” she asked quietly.

“Rue, you could have one measly streamer hanging from the ceiling and he’d love it just the same. He’s gonna be more excited to see you than anything.”

“I hope so.”

Hope smiled at Ruth reassuringly in the mirror, “I know so.”

John groaned, stepping out of the interrogation hut. He hated interrogation, as if it wasn’t bad enough experiencing everything the first time, you then had to relive it. He stretched his aching arms above his head, all he wanted was a shower and a drink.

It was his birthday after all.

Gale and Hugh soon appeared from the hut after him, they too stretched out their aching muscles, and the three made their way across to the shower block.

“You got any plans for tonight, Bucky?” Hugh asked, a smirk plastered across his face and Gale elbowed him warningly. He couldn’t have Hugh giving the game away, not after all Ruth’s hard work.

“I don’t know, Sparky. I was just going to shower and then head over to the club for a drink. You boys in?”

Gale and Hugh glanced at each other, a silent question passing between the pilots.

“Sure thing, Bucky,” Gale responded first, throwing his arm over his friend's shoulder, “Can’t have you celebrating alone now, can I?”

“Good, because I plan for this to be a night we remember,” he thought for a moment, rubbing his hand over his moustache, “Or more like a night we don’t remember. But don’t worry, I won’t go too off the rails,” He cackled, strolling ahead of them.

Hugh turned to Gale, his eyes wide as he hissed, “How the hell are we supposed to keep him out of the club?”

Gale shrugged his shoulders, seemingly very calm about the whole situation, “We’ll find a way.”

“Hey,” Bucky called out, stopping with his hands on his hips as he waited for them to catch up.

The pair shared a wary glance, panicking at the possibility of his overhearing them.

Ruth would kill them if he found out.

They reached him, and John pursed his lips in thought, “You got a letter from Hope today or yesterday?”

Buck and Hugh nearly sighed in relief at the question. The cat wasn’t out of the bag yet!

“Yeah,” Gale replied, “Got one yesterday. Why?”

Johnny nodded once, his gaze falling to the dirt beneath their feet. “Nothing.”

Hugh cocked an eyebrow at the man’s sudden change in demeanor. “What is it?”

“I guess I thought Ruth would’ve sent me a letter for my birthday, that’s all,” he shrugged.

Trying to keep a sly grin off his face, Buck threw an arm over his shoulder and got the trio moving toward the shower block again. “The night is still young, Bucky. There’s still time for a letter to get here.”

“Yeah, you never know,” Hugh added with a smirk, ignoring the sharp glare Buck gave him as he walked past the duo. He then checked his watch.

17:00…One hour til’ showtime.

17:15 HRS

Hope and Ruth took a shortcut behind buildings on their way back to the Officers' Club to stay out of sight. Ruth’s hair was once again curled to perfection, and she wore victory red lipstick that Hope let her borrow.

She wasn’t one for bold statements, but this night, she wanted to do something special.

When they snuck into the club through the back door, Ruth’s eyes widened in awe at the final decorations Helen and Tatty finished. String lights hung below the streamers above the tables, giving the room a warm, soft glow, and the “Happy Birthday John” banner hung high at the front of the stage.

“This is amazing!” She squealed, her heart fluttering with excitement as she pulled Helen and Tatty into a tight embrace. “Thank y’all so much. I’m sorry I lost my head earlier.”

The two women returned the hug and laughed quietly, sharing a knowing gaze with Hope over her shoulder. If there was one thing Hope Armstrong knew about Ruth Morgan, it was that she cared about those around her so much. It was what made her a good teacher, a good nurse, a good friend…a good person. This was often the underlying cause of the worry that ate away at her.

“We have a surprise for you,” Tatty said, gesturing over to the bar.

Ruth’s eyes drifted over to the area to find a small box on the counter. She and Hope made their way over and opened it, grinning from ear to ear at a small cake inside with cursive icing on the top.

“Happy Birthday Bucky,” Ruth read aloud before turning back to them. “How did you two get this?”

Helen shrugged her shoulders. “I might have to go on a date with the cook, but it’s worth it.”

The group broke out into chuckles and Tatty went behind the bar, grabbing four glasses and pouring them each a shot of whiskey. “I say this is a cause for celebration.”

Helen and Tatty raised their glasses in a toast. “To John,” they chorused, the clinking of their glasses filling the air.

“To John,” Hope and Ruth grinned, throwing back their shots.

Hope was unphased, but Ruth’s eyes watered slightly as the fiery liquid burned down her throat, leaving a warm trail in its wake. She’d grown more accustomed to the taste of alcohol since she started going out more, and she found that it wasn’t as bad as she once thought.

As the minutes ticked by, airmen started to trickle into the hall, and with each one, Ruth’s nervousness swirled again in her stomach. Sensing her discomfort, Tatty poured her another shot with a wink, “It’ll help.”

A smirk formed on Hope’s face watching the blonde throw back the shot. Ruth was not good at holding her liquor, and the one time Hope had seen her overdo it in Berkshire, she had to almost carry her back to their hut at the end of the night.

Before long, the alcohol warmed Ruth from the inside out and melted away her worry, leaving behind a tingling feeling that made her feel lighter than air.

“It’s almost time!” she squealed loudly to Hope who sat beside her at their table.

Hope chuckled under her breath, noting the way she’d become more talkative and bubbly, even starting a few conversations with the men around them.

It was going to be a good night.

“Hey Buck, what was this ‘way’ you have planned to keep Johnny boy from the club? Because now might be a good time to know about it,” Hugh hissed, yanking his underwear onto his still wet body as he continued to fight his clothes on in his haste.

“I didn’t say I had anything planned. I said ‘we’ would find a way, so if you’ve got any ideas, Charlie, now would be a really good time to share them,” Gale spoke in a hushed whisper, gracing back down the hut to check the water was still flowing in Bucky’s cubicle.

Hugh threw his hands in the air, “Well I don’t know, do I? I think half the time John just wants to punch me in the face.”

Gale hummed, “Maybe that’s what we should do then.”

Hugh glared at him through the hole of his shirt, pulling it violently over his head before he responded, “Gee thanks Gale, maybe I should tell my sister that her future husband is a brute and he got me duffed up.”

“I think Hope would be inclined to agree with me…”

“What’s Hope agreeing to now? She already agreed to marry you Buck, what more can she agree to?” John asked, wandering up to them with just his towel draped precariously around his waist.

“Bucky!” Both men called out, their voices a little higher than they would have liked. John cocked an eyebrow at them and Gale stared wide eyed at Hugh, waiting for their next move.

“So Bucky, we’ve got a nice birthday treat for you planned…” Hugh began, hoping that Gale wasn’t about to tackle him to the ground. “We thought it would be nice to head back to the hut, crack open a bottle of my old Vat 69 and make a night of it. How does that sound?”

“It sounds like you don’t know me very well at all, My Dear Sparky,” John rested his hand of Hugh’s shoulder and within a split second Hugh folded.

“It was Gale’s idea.”

Gale glared harshly at Hugh before meeting John’s gaze with a simple nod.

John sighed, “Buck, I get that you’re not a big drinker, and that’s fine, why don’t you go write a letter to Hope or something while Sparky and I head down to the club to have ourselves some fun?”

John wasn’t sure why he ribbed Gale about writing letters to Hope. He wrote just as many letters to Ruth, if not more. With Gale though, it was the time he spent pouring over the letter, changing little bits and then rewriting it until it was perfect. He’d sit in the corner for hours, his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth as he pen flowed effortlessly across the page.

Gale sighed, “Okay, we’ll head down to the club at 18:00, okay? Let’s go back to the hut first so we can drop this back. Maybe I will have some time to finish my letter to Hope too, and then we can go. Sound good?” Gale really hoped this sounded like a fair deal because he was all out of options if not.

John thought for a moment before nodding, “You know, you drive a hard bargain, Buck. Good thing I like you.”

Six o’clock rolled around quickly, and Gale found himself sighing with relief as the trio walked towards the officers club. They’d managed to keep the secret and everything had gone to plan. He’d have to have a word with Hope regarding no surprises at their wedding, his heart couldn’t take the suspense.

John was out in front with Hugh, bickering again about the Cardinals and the Yankees, an argument that Gale had heard so often he managed to tune the whole thing out now.

As they neared the club, Gale took the lead, winking at Hugh as he hurried passed to reach the door first. If John noticed anything suspicious he hadn’t let on, but from the way he’d been watching his every move across the Nissan hut earlier he definitely knew something was up.

“Hey Buck, what are you in such a hurry for, they’re not gonna run out of ginger beer,” John called out, cackling loudly at his T-total friend. Gale ignored the comment, he’d grown used to them over the years.

“Very funny, Bucky. I thought you’d be the one in a rush to get here. You wanted the drink after all,” Gale retorted, appreciating Hugh’s laughter.

“You two are like a old married couple, forget Hope and Ruth, it’s you two that sound like you live together,” Hugh ducked as John went to smack the back of his head, but he was unable to avoid Gale’s foot that he’d stuck out to the side and Hugh stumbled over, recovering himself quickly.

“Good trip there, Hugh,” John chortled, and Gale just smirked cheekily.

Hugh brushed down the front of his uniform, despite it never actually touching the ground, “You’re lucky you’re marrying my sister, Cleven.”

As they reached the door to the club, it became obvious how unusually quiet it was, normally by this time the band had struck up a familiar tune, or there was loud laughter from inside. The silence was rather eery and John found himself growing uneasy.

What exactly was going on?

Gale’s hand reached out to the door, swinging it back on its hinges and standing aside. “Happy birthday, Bucky.”

John glanced up at his friend, before looking back inside the club. Everything in the small entrance looked normal, but the silence and the suspense only grew.

Why was Gale being so cryptic too?

Sparing his best friend one last wary look, Johnny stepped through the doors.

“Surprise!”

“What?!” A wide smile broke out on the Major’s face, his eyes widening as he took in the hall…the lights, the decorations, his friends.

‘Happy Birthday John,’ the banner read.

He was about to speak, but all the thoughts in his mind flew out the window when a familiar blonde rushed towards him, grinning from ear to ear.

“Happy birthday!” Ruth giggled, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a kiss. Surprised at her sudden forwardness, he froze for a moment before returning it, sliding his hands around her waist.

The sound of wolf whistles echoed around the club while Hope caught Gale’s gaze from behind the pair. A lazy grin pulled at the corner of his lips at the sight of his fiancée, and he sent her a wink as she made her way over to him.

When Ruth and the birthday boy finally pulled away, he peered down at her with a smile so filled with joy that his eyes were almost squinted shut. Her cheeks flushed rosy, but not from embarrassment. John saw the way her eyes were in a daze but still sparkled up at him like the night sky.

He knew that look.

“Someone’s had a few drinks, huh?” he grinned.

Looking over Ruth’s shoulder, his eyes met Hope’s and he tilted her head towards the woman in his arms with an amused brow raised. She simply shrugged, throwing a hand over her mouth when a laugh escaped her lips at the bright red lipstick stains that smeared on his mouth, some even up in his mustache.

“Happy birthday, hotshot,” Ruth whispered as she kissed his cheek.

Another lipstick stain.

John’s grip loosened on her waist, but Ruth’s hands slid around his torso, keeping herself tight against him. Chuckling under his breath, he turned them toward Gale and Hugh. “So this is why you two were acting weird.”

Buck saw the same lipstick stains on his face, and unlike his fiancée, made no effort to conceal his laugh. “You got a little something all over your face there, Johnny boy.”

He quickly did his best to wipe away the red marks, but only smudged them against his skin, leaving splotches of pink on his chin and cheek. “I thought you were up to something, I just didn’t know what.”

“Well, your girl, here, was the mastermind behind this whole thing,” Buck grinned, nodding towards Ruth. “Been planning it for weeks.”

John’s eyes narrowed playfully as he peered down at her. “You sneaky woman.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t somehow feel her worrying from here in Thorpe Abbotts,” Hope said from under Gale’s arm. “She damn near drove me and Frank crazy.”

“Oh, you’re full of it!” Ruth cried, her eyes widening dramatically as she shot Hope a wide-mouthed smile. “Don’t even get me started on you stressing about wedding planning!”

Above the women’s heads, Gale and John shared an amused glance, neither having seen them go at it before.

“Who wouldn’t be stressed about their wedding?”

“Well, I’m sorry for wanting Major Hot Stuff here to have the best birthday possible,” Ruth said plainly, patting John’s chest.

He was thankful that he hadn’t gotten a drink yet because it surely would’ve spewed from his lips and sprayed all over Buck. “Major Hot Stuff?” he choked out before he composed himself, a toothy grin tugging at his lips. “Just how much did you drink, doll?”

“Not much,” Ruth replied innocently, and stepped impossibly closer to him before tripping into John’s side, his hands instantly coming up to support her. She giggled happily and John couldn’t help the amused smile that spread across his face.

“She may have had a little too much for her,” Hope interjected, “To calm the nerves, you see.” Hope found the whole thing rather amusing in all honesty. Ruth had been so uptight ever since she’d started the party planning that it was nice to see her relaxing again.

Gale smiled fondly, watching as John guided Ruth to a table, settling her down in the corner.

“Shall we?” He offered Hope her arm and she gladly accepted, letting her fiancée lead her to the table where she seated herself between Gale and Hugh, opposite Ruth and John.

The rest of the men soon followed suit, all crowding around the table to find a seat. Harry Crosby perched next to Hugh, greeting Hope as he took his seat. Demarco sat on the other side of Gale, and Meatball found his way to nestle his head into Hope’s lap.

“Hey Meatball, who's a good boy,” Hope scratched behind the dogs ear and he flopped against her, whining and grunting as she hit the right spot. Gale watched the interaction adoringly.

How did he manage to find a girl so perfect?

“So Buck, tell me about this wedding you’re planning then. First I heard about it was from Croz this morning,” Demarco asked, leaning across so he could eye Gale and Hope suspiciously.

Harry looked sheepishly at Hope but she just smiled, he’d been in the infirmary when she’d dropped off supplies earlier and he’d noticed the ring.

“Couldn’t keep one secret could ya, Croz,” Hugh jested, grabbing Harry and ruffling his hair affectionately. Harry protested, smacking Hugh’s hands away and the pair began to squabble like children.

“Yep, it’s official. I popped the question and she said yes,” Gale replied, wrapping his arm around Hope’s shoulder, “She’s the only one for me.” He smiled down at Hope and she reached up, pressing her lips to hers, followed by a few low whistles and cheers from their fellow crew members, while Hugh merely made gagging noises.

“I’m happy for you, Buck, I really am,” John raised his glass, nodding towards his friend. “I would’ve paid to see this one’s reaction,” he chuckled, motioning to Ruth who was grinning beside him, tucked under his arm. She smiled fondly, thinking back on the day she found out her best friend was engaged to one of the loveliest men she’d ever met.

————————————————————————

Sunday, August 29th 1943: AAF Grove, Berkshire: 2000 HRS

Hope perched on the edge of the bed, her sore leg giving her some grief. She’d been on her feet most of the day, sorting things out around the base and she was paying for it now. Blood had seeped through the fresh bandages and she winced, peeling the fabric away from the wound.

“I told you not to do too much,” Ruth scolded, sitting down on her bed opposite Hope, “But you never listen.”

Hope just glared at her, Ruth was right but she wasn’t about to admit that.

“What would Gale say if he saw you hurrying all over base today? You know he’d be saying the same thing as me, Hope. We care about you, so please just take it easy,” Ruth pleaded, reaching over to squeeze her friend's shoulder. Her eyes trailed down to the wound on Hope’s thigh and she noticed the gold ring that adorned her ring finger.

“WHAT IS THAT?” She screeched a little too loudly, grabbing Hope’s left hand and holding it up to her face. “THAT’S A RING! AN ENGAGEMENT RING!”

Hope chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm, pulling her hand back and admiring the ring herself, “Gale popped the question in the infirmary while he was patching me up yesterday, and I said yes.”

Ruth looked at her dumbfounded before she smacked Hope’s arm, “WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?”

“There was a lot going on yesterday, it sort of slipped my mind,” Hope admitted, feeling guilty that she hadn’t told her best friend.

“Slipped your mind? You mean to tell me that your engagement just ‘slipped your mind?' Hope Armstrong, I am your best friend and you didn’t tell me first,” Ruth looked utterly betrayed as Hope moved to sit beside her.

“I’m so sorry, Rue, I should have told you. Everything was just so emotional yesterday and it all happened so quickly. Then we had to leave the base and things have been just as crazy here but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

————————————————————————

“It’s okay. At least I knew before Johnny,” she chuckled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Just wait ‘til he finds out!”

Hope cringed slightly and Ruth’s smile faltered. “I did know before John, right?”

“Well…”

“That sneaky piece of shit!”

The guilt that swirled within Hope’s stomach dissipated as Ruth’s curse echoed through the hut. She didn’t swear much, so when she did on occasion, Hope could never keep a smile from her lips. “I don’t think he wanted to spoil the surprise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ruth playfully frowned, waving her hand in the air. “He’s a doggone traitor.”

But the frown didn’t last long and quickly changed into a wide smile as she threw herself onto Hope, trying to avoid her injured leg, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m so happy for you, Hope. Gale is a great guy, and I know you two are going to have a long and happy life together.”

Hope smiled, “Thanks Rue, it means a lot that you support me.”

“I guess my question now is…” Ruth took a deep breath, “Can I be your maid of honour!”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Hope smiled, thinking back to the conversation she had with Ruth after her engagement. There was no way on Earth she could walk down the aisle without Ruth by her side, and Hugh of course. She glanced at her brother who was trying to loudly explain something irrelevant to Jack across the table.

The room was buzzing with life, laughter, and cheers of excitement filling the room as Tatty brought over the chocolate cake and laid it before John, a few candles stuck into the icing.

Everyone around the table erupted into a chorus…

“Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Bucky,

Happy birthday to you!”

Hoots, hollers, and laughter followed as John leaned forward with a beaming smile, extinguishing the candles in one breath. He fell back into his chair, laughing wildly. Ruth snuggled back in under his arm and he pulled her close, pressing his lips firmly to her forehead.

“Thank you, slugger,” he murmured against her skin. “Thank you for everything.”

Ruth looked delightedly back at him, “You deserve this, John. Happy birthday.”

He craned his neck to look down at her, trying to engrain the moment into his mind before he leaned in and captured her lips in his. It was short and sweet but conveyed all the gratitude and affection John felt for the nurse.

Although he may not have said it out loud, she meant everything to him.

Ruth glanced over at Hope as she pushed her chair away from the table, brushing the creases from her dress. Gale’s hand that had been resting on her thigh moved quickly, clutching her hand.

“Where are you going?” Gale glanced up at her, his long lashes casting shadows beneath his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” Hope bent over, pressing her lips to his cheek, “I won’t be long.”

Gale released her hand reluctantly, his eyes following her across the hall as she disappeared behind the band. He was confused about what she was up to, her sideways glances between the stage and back all evening gave him an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

John was laughing loudly at something Benny had said when her familiar voice came over the microphone.

“Could I have everyone’s attention please,” Hope spoke softly but firmly into the microphone, causing everyone in the room to turn. “Thank you.” Hope looked a little nervous, her hands clasped in front of her. She wasn’t used to public speaking, having never really been a fan of big crowds ever since she went to a baseball game with Hugh. It was probably one of the main reasons why she made a good nurse, the one-on-one contact with another person was something that came so naturally to her.

She cleared her throat, trying to avoid all the eyes that were suddenly on her and concentrate on the one pair of eyes that truly mattered to her. Gale’s.

“Like me, you are all here to celebrate a certain Major’s birthday. I’m sure all of you have many stories you could tell about Bucky.” The room erupted into a small chorus to ‘to rights’ and ‘hell yeah we do’.

“So what can I say about Major John Egan? I’ve only known him for two months and he sure does love to rock the boat. He’s quite the character,” a few mumbled agreements followed.

“He’s a damn good pilot and a good friend. I couldn't think of anyone more suited for Ruth,” Hope pointed towards her friend. “I would also like to thank the very lovely Ruth Morgan for putting this whole evening together for us.” Several cheers erupted around the table and for once, Ruth’s cheeks didn’t flush. She held her head high as John reached out and brushed her curls away, kissing her cheek with a chuckle, obviously noticing the change from her usual behavior.

“Thank you, doll,” he mumbled, a soft smile on his lips, but before Ruth could speak up, Hope began talking over the microphone once more.

“So without further ado, this one’s for you John,” Hope moved across the stage and placed the record down onto the gramophone.

The disk turned for a few seconds until the smooth trumpet began to play, Hope tapped her foot along to the beat, waiting for her time to start.

“Blue skies, smiling at me

Nothing but blue skies do I see”

Hope’s voice flowed effortlessly into the microphone, playing through the horn, filling the long hall with life.

“Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on”

Hope’s eyes met Gale, as he beamed at her from the audience, a wide smile gracing his handsome face and his blue eyes sparkled in awe. She’d never felt so enamoured in her life than she did at that moment under Gale’s gaze, and the lyrics flowed easily.

“Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on”

Ruth and John were swaying beside each other from their cosy spot at the table. John’s arm was draped over Ruth’s shoulder as he spoke quietly to her.

Ruth beamed at something he said and Hope couldn’t help but smile along with them. After everything they had been through together, Hope never thought they would find happiness like this.

“Blue days, all of them gone

Nothing but blue skies from now on”

As the song came to an end the crowd burst into a round of applause, having Hope scurry back to Gale, blushing all the way. Gale’s arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into his side one more.

“That was beautiful,” Gale mumbled, pressing his lips to her temple.

Hope smiled up at him, “Thank you,” she chuckled, “Just wait until it’s your birthday, Major, I have a whole lot up my sleeve.”

Gale hummed in amusement, kissing her temple again, “I look forward to it.”

“Hey, hey,” John butted in, snapping his fingers at them over the table. “You two keep that for your alone time. We’ve got a cake to eat, and I’m gonna hurl like Croz here if you keep talking like that.”

“Oh, come on!” Harry sighed, dragging a tired hand down his face. “I’m never gonna live that down.”

Ruth remembered Hope telling her of the poor navigator’s airsickness, and she was relieved that her own bout of projectile vomiting stopped in the early stages of her training at Bowman Field. The rumble of John’s chest against her broke her from her thoughts.

“But thank you, Hope. You almost sounded as good as me up there.”

“Well, that’s an insult,” Bill Veal scoffed, pulling up a chair to the table.

The table exploded in laughter and nods of agreement and Ruth nodded, snickering to herself as Johnny’s face screwed up in playful confusion. “I thought you liked my singing?”

“Oh, I do,” she smiled and patted his cheek gently. “But I never said you were Frank Sinatra, hon.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I’ll have to impress you with my dance moves.”

John stood to his feet, pulling Ruth with him by her hand. “See you, boys.”

He tugged her behind him to the dance floor where a few other couples were already dancing their hearts out to the upbeat tune of Glenn Miller’s ‘A String of Pearls.’ With a wide grin, John spun Ruth around the dance floor, watching her face light up as they got lost in the moment. With every spin, dip, and kiss, their laughter filled the room, and even though Ruth stumbled a few times, Bucky’s firm grip kept her steady, his smile never faltering.

Hope watched from her spot beside Gale, envious of all the dancing couples. She glanced at Gale but he was talking to Demarco, who was feeding Meatball scraps from the table.

A hand on her shoulder caused her to jump and Hugh’s outstretched hand appeared.

“May I have this dance?” Hugh bowed his head down and Hope couldn’t contain the laughter as she watched her brother's antics.

“Why of course,” she clutched Hugh’s hand, glancing back at Gale who looked a little saddened by her departure.

“Come on, Hope,” Hugh pulled her after him, “Gale never dances and you don’t want to sit around like a sad sack all evening.”

Hope nodded, she had to admit that she loved dancing and the thought of missing out did make her a little disappointed, but she also wanted to spend time with her fiancé, who thanks to the war she so rarely saw as it was.

A few more fast paced songs passed and Hugh had Hope spinning around the dance floor. He wasn’t very spatially aware and Hope often found herself apologising as they crashed into other couples.

“Good thing you don’t fly like you dance, Sparky,” Bucky called, “You’d take out the whole 8th Air Force with those skills!”

Hugh spun around, ready to defend his honour, but Hope quickly swung him away from Ruth and John with a small smile.

As Glenn Miller played loudly and Hope couldn’t help the infectious smile that spread across her face as the hall came alive. Despite all the bloodshed and suffering they had witnessed, moments like this made it all worth it.

Hugh had always been a rather good dancer, except for his special awareness, and he led her easily across the floor. It had been a long time since she had danced with her brother, the last time having been at a party back in the States before the war broke out. It was comforting and familiar really.

Hugh began chatting animatedly about a girl he’d met the other day in Dicklesburgh. Every time they spoke Hugh was supposedly ‘in love’ with a new woman. When he’d settle down, Hope wasn’t sure.

The whole time Hope could feel Gale’s eyes on her, following her around the room. She wished he would dance with her, but she knew Gale wasn’t much of a dancer and accepted her fate to always having to find a dance partner in Hugh, who was more than obliging.

Hugh turned to face her, “So have you set a date yet?”

Hope rolled her eyes at him, “Not quite, we’ve only been engaged twelve days.”

“And you’ve only known him two months but look at that, you’re head over heels.”

Hugh’s words resonated with Hope, she couldn’t believe it had only been two months and they were already engaged, it felt like she’d loved him for a lifetime. She never imagined herself to be the kind of woman to fall head over heels for a man and marry him within a year, but here she was head over heels for Gale Cleven.

She’d written to her family to inform them of her engagement, hoping they would be a pleased as she was. The reply she received was less than friendly, accusing her of getting ‘knocked up’ and ‘bringing shame upon their family’. Hugh had written to their parents too, vouching for Gale’s credibility as an honourable man but with Hugh’s track record after his breakup with his fiancée, they still weren’t convinced. Hugh had promised her that no matter what their parents said he’d support her.

“I see the way Gale looks at you,” he spoke softly, sensing that his comment had caused Hope to rethink their mother’s harsh words. “No man looks at a woman like that unless their completely in love and that right there,” he pointed towards Gale who was leaning against the bar with Demarco and Meatball, his eyes still on Hope, “that man is completely in love with you.”

Hope blushed, nodding in agreement, “And I love him, very much.”

“Then that’s all I could ever ask for, my little sister is happy and she has chosen an honourable man. My work here is done.”

As if Gale had read the situation, he began to make his way across the dance floor towards the two Armstrongs.

“Hugh, do you mind if I steal Hope away from you?”

“Be my guest,” Hugh released Hope, passing her hand over to Gale’s who took it instantly. Her hand seemed to fit into his as if they’d been holding hands for all their lives. Hugh drifted away across the dance floor towards Helen and Tatty, sending Hope a thumbs up as he disappeared.

“May I have this dance, Ma’am?” Gale asked, his spare hand already coming to rest on her hip.

“I didn’t think you danced, Major,” Hope retorted, eyeing Gale suspiciously.

“Who would pass up the chance with a beautiful woman, such as yourself?”

Hope blushed at his flattery, placing her head against the crook of his neck. “Well I can’t argue with that, Major.”

Hope swayed in Gale’s arms, not in time with the now slow beat the band was playing but to Gale’s pace, his heart beating rhythmically beneath her hand, keeping her in time. Her eyes followed around the room, catching Hugh’s eye as he danced with Tatty, he grinned at her, and she grinned back. Hope wished Hugh would settle down, find a nice girl and be as happy as she was with Gale, but Hugh seemed to appreciate the bachelor life, it never seemed to phase him.

Hope’s eyes searched the crowd for Ruth and John but they were nowhere to be seen.

“Did you see Ruth and John leave?” Hope perked up, glancing worriedly at Gale but he just gave her a calm smile.

“They only just left, Sugar. The birthday boy needed some alone time with his girl,” his voice was low and his chest rumbled under Hope’s hand.

“Some alone time, huh?” She cocked her eyebrow at him, biting her bottom lip, unpaused that the red lipstick might end up on her teeth. “How about we have ourselves some alone time, Major Cleven?”

“Hmm,” Gale mused, leaning down to press his lips to her ear lobe. “I like the sound of that.” Hope giggled, grasping Gale’s hand and pulling him along behind her.

They passed Hugh who gave Hope a thumbs up to which she responded by throwing him her middle finger as she passed, not looking back to catch his reaction.

Once outside, the cool evening air embraced them and Gale wrapped his coat around Hope’s shoulders, smiling down at his fiancée. “What did you have in mind, Sugar?” He asked, leading her down the road that led up to the officer's hut.

Hope pondered for a moment, she knew what she really wanted, but Gale was such a gentleman that she wasn’t sure what to ask him.

“How about we head back to the officer's hut, everyone will be out enjoying the party and we can see where the evening takes us.”

Gale nodded, a smirk tugging at his lips, “Whatever you’d like, Beautiful.”

Gale led the way back to the officer’s hut, his hand resting firmly on the small of her back, guiding her all the way.

She stepped inside, and the familiar smell of body odour and aftershave hit her, it reminded her of Hugh’s bedroom back home in Missouri.

Hope made her way along the line of beds, “This is the second time you’ve broken the no-girls rule, Major. Whatever next?”

Gale snorted, closing the door behind them. His eyes followed Hope’s movements as she came to his bed, her hand running over the neatly concertinaed edge of the sheet before flopping down onto the mattress with a sigh. Her heels started to hurt her, and as if Gale knew, he stood at the end of the bed, his hands running slowly up and down her calves, before unbuckling her heels and removing them for her.

She sighed as the shoes slipped from her feet, but Gale’s hands remained firmly on her legs, trailing patterns up the smooth flesh just above her knee. Gale looked up at her through hooded lashes, his pulp lips sealed together and he looked deep in thought.

“Gale?” Hope propped herself up on her elbows, watching him curiously as he knelt on the end of the bed, his hands still on her thighs. “What are you thinking?”

Gale swallowed, his eyes making their way up her body until they landed on her face, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Just you,” he mumbled nonchalantly.

“You’re thinking about me?” Hope chuckled, pushing herself up further so she could lean over to him, her lips inches from his. “And what are you thinking about me?” She bit her lip and Gale’s breath faltered. He looked like he was having some sort of internal fight with himself, he opened and closed his mouth to speak and his forehead creased.

“I’m just thinking about how much I love you, how much I wish this damn war was over so we could be together,” Gale glanced up at her, his large blue eyes resembling a sad puppy. “I want to be with you, Hope, and not just fleeting moments but all the time.”

Hope sighed, pushing Gale back so she could straddle his lap, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I wish we could be together all the time too,” she rested her forehead against his own, “But at least in these fleeting moments we can make the most of our time together, we’ll have memories to get us through the time we are apart.”

Gale's breath faltered as his hands came to rest on her hips, shuffling her closer to him. His lips were inches from hers, just brushing lightly as he spoke, “Hope Armstrong, you’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

She blushed, running her fingers through his tousled locks, “Why thank you, but I like the sound of Hope Cleven better.”

His lips pressed against Hope’s, a small moan leaving his lips. Hope could feel his fingers trailing up her spine, tenderly stroking the soft skin above her hips.

Hope moved her hand to Gale’s cheek, her thumb delicately stroked along his jaw, and Gale flexed under her touch. His lips immediately moved to her neck, kissing gingerly along her collarbone, his eyes darting up to hers in a silent question that she answered with a small whimper.

Hope’s cheeks grew flushed and hot, her eyelashes fluttering as she fought to keep her eyes open. She shuffled closer to Gale but he still her movements, a low groan leaving his throat. The energy in the room shifted, Gale’s desire evident on his face and his eyes burned, darker and stormier than Hope had ever seen before. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins and her hand shook as she cupped his cheek, bringing her lips to his firmly.

“I want you, Gale,” was all she could muster before he rolled her over so she was beneath him on the bed, pinned down by his large arms on either side of her head.

“Gale,” she murmured before his plush lips met her mouth, teasing her lips until she allowed him access and he slipped his tongue inside. Their tongues fought for dominance, while their hands roamed each other's bodies, exploring every crease and every curve.

Gale’s hand roamed up Hope’s thigh, grazing over the scar that ran from her knee upwards. The wound was still fresh really, having only sustained it 12 days ago. Hope had removed the sutures herself the night before traveling to Thorpe Abbotts, and the wound had healed well but the flesh was still red and raised. Gale trailed his fingers around the edge of the scar, muttering softly.

Hope sighed, “It’s ugly, I know.”

Gale had never felt so heartbroken in his life, the look on Hope’s face resembling one of disappointment, as though she wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“I’ll be disfigured for life, those scars never going away, Gale,” a silent tear slipped down her cheek and she brushed it away, hoping he hadn’t noticed. Gale of course had, he could barely keep his eyes off of her.

His forehead creased and he gave her a sympathetic look, “Your scar isn’t ugly, Hope. It shows what you’ve been through and that you survived. None of us will get through this unscathed but our scars show that we got through it, and we will get through this together.” Gale leaned down, pressing his lips onto the raised flesh. “I told you that I love you, and that means all of you, Hope, no matter what.”

Hope pulled him towards her, wrapping his arms around his neck once more. The kiss this time had more feeling, more need, more urge to close the impossibly small gap between them. Gale hummed against her lips, his fingers beginning to work on the delicate zip at the side of her dress, while his spare hand began kneading the flesh above the hip.

Each moment their lips met, a new fire was ignited, a primal urge. Hope moaned and Gale happily swallowed any noise she made, and let out a low groan that only caused the fire inside Hope to burn brighter.

As they stripped each other down to their underwear, Hope rolled her hips experimentally, brushing against Gale’s crouch, causing him to bite down on her lip. Their chests were heaving from the effort, bumbling against each other, as Hope rolled her hips once more.

“You’re so needy,” Gale mumbled, resting his hands against her hips to slow her motions. Sweat trickled down his forehead and Hope had already noticed a large bulge in his underwear. “Hope, we shouldn’t, we’re not married yet and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. I’m happy to wait if you’re not…”

“Gale, I love the sound of your voice but just this once would you please shut up,” Hope battered her eyelashes at him, and watched as Gale’s jaw slammed shut. He looked confused for a moment, as if he needed a minute to process what his next move was before he was back on top of her, his teeth grazing along her collarbone, while his hand slipped beneath her underwear, storming the sensitive flesh of her groin before moving lower.

“I’ll make this a night you’ll never forget, Hope Cleven.”

If Hope had been coherent enough to notice the nickname, she was sure she would have felt warm and fuzzy inside, hearing Gale refer to her as his wife, even though they were not yet officially married. Hope, however, groaned loudly, bunching the sheets on either side of her as Gale moved lower beneath the sheets and disappeared from view.

The pair were pleased that John’s party was such a hit, even if the man of the hour had excused himself early. The other men were clearly having a good time, drinking and relaxing without the worry of a mission hanging over them, enough so that no one returned to their barracks for a good while.

Hope sighed, finally catching her breath enough to glance over at Gale who had a massive grin plastered across his handsome features. He reached up, running his fingers through his messy locks, his chest still rising and falling rapidly from the effort.

He caught Hope’s gaze, smiling softly at her, he rolled onto his side to face her, his hand coming over to rub his thumb across her cheek. Neither of them spoke for a moment.

Hope sighed, her emotions finally ebbing enough that she could think straight. A small whine slipped past her lips as she shuffled closer to Gale, resting her head against his warm chest.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Gale immediately asked, propping himself up a little, his eyes wide and his lip quivered as he spoke. “Oh no, I did. Oh, Hope, I’m so…”

“Hey, hey Gale you didn’t hurt me, you didn’t hurt me I promise,” Hope pulled him in close to her, “I’ve just never been with anyone before, I’m just a little stiff.”

Gale still looked sadly at her, “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his lips pressing firmly to her forehead and his arms enveloping her in a loving embrace.

“Don’t be sorry,” she mumbled sleepily, “This was the best night of my life.”

Gale chuckled, running his fingers slowly through her brown curls. “I wish we could stay like this all night but the party ends soon. The guys will be coming back, and I don’t exactly want them all to see my future wife naked.”

Hope laughed, pushing herself off the bed and quickly gathering her clothes, “Well, we can’t have that can we?”

After their visit to the vacant shower block, where they’d continued to have trouble keeping their hands, they made the short walk back to the Red Cross Nissen hut. Tatty, Helen and Ruth were already back, sitting near the window with their curlers in their hair. Ruth stared at the wall with a dazed grin, and Hope smiled to herself knowing exactly who she was talking about, the same man whose arms she was most of the evening.

Hope stood on the step, her hand resting on the doorknob but she couldn’t find it in her to go inside, not yet.

“I truly had a wonderful time tonight, Gale,” she linked her fingers through his, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckle.

Gale sighed, stepping forward to bring her in for another searing kiss, “I want to kiss you every day for the rest of my life. Maybe we should get married before this all ends. I love you, Hope and you love me so what’s stopping us.”

Hope was a little taken aback, “You really mean it?”

“Of course I do, Hope. You’re the only woman for me and I love you more than anything. We should set a date. Does a month from now sound alright?”

Hope nodded, clutching hold of Gale and burying her face into his jacket, ignoring how her wet hair soaked his shirt and inhaled the sweet scent of his aftershave. His heart was pounding beneath her hand. She stared up at him, eyes shining with unshed tears in the moonlight.

“I love you too, Gale, with all my heart.”

Pressing one last kiss to his lips, Hope reluctantly pulled herself from him and entered the hut. Helen and Tatty sent her a few winks as she walked past them, but Ruth raised a brow skeptically from her bed, and Hope saw the questions shining in her friend’s eyes. The blonde managed to stay silent a few more seconds until her excitement and curiosity bubbled and broke free in her chest and she tugged Hope to sit down beside her. “Tell me everything!”

Gale strolled into the hut, his towel resting over his shoulder and his hair still dripping from his shower.

“Where the hell have you been?” Hugh asked, cocking his head to the right. “Was about to send out a search party to save you from my sister.”

Gale snorted, “I didn’t need any saving. The ‘future Mrs Cleven’ and I had a fine evening.”

Hugh rolled his eyes, “Oh Christ, you know what that means.”

Before Hugh could continue, Harding poked his head in the door with Major Bowman behind him.

“Evening Gentlemen. Everyone alright?” A chorus of ‘Yes Sir’ followed, and Harding nodded.

“Good. Glad you all had a good time. I just wanted to remind you all that the rule of ‘no women in the huts’ still stands. That goes for you too, Cleven.” He pointed at Gale suspiciously, eyeing him up and down before returning his attention to the rest of the men. “Have a good night, Gents.”

The door slammed shut and the room was left in silence, all the men looking at Gale, who was still standing in the center of the room in utter disbelief when John spoke up from his spot on his bed, placing ‘The Odor of Violets’ onto his nighstand.

“Buck, you sly dog,” he chuckled, pointing at his best friend with his brows raised. “You finally got some action!!”

A few moments later, the door opened again and it was Red’s face that appeared in the doorway. “And Egan,” the man sighed, fighting a smirk from appearing on his lips. “Next time you decide to give your girl a plane tour, make sure there’s no ground crewmen in the cockpit, alright? Night, boys.”

The second the door closed, the hut erupted into laughter and John’s was the loudest, his cackles echoing off the metal walls. “No one tell Ruth! She’d never wanna be seen with me again!”

Gale released a grateful sigh, thankful that the attention was no longer on him. John was used to that kind of attention, but he was not.

“Sounds like you’re the one who got some action, Bucky,” Demarco yelled from across the room.

“No action over here,” John shrugged, settling back down onto his cot and grabbing his book.

Bill scoffed on his cot beside Johnny’s. “I don’t believe that for one second. You two were all over each other at the party.”

“And you disappeared pretty early,” Bubbles added with a smirk.

“What? I swear! Is it that unbelievable?”

A chorus’ of ‘yeahs’ and ‘yes’ filled the hut at the question, and Bucky shook his head with a shrug, resuming his spot in his book. “Believe what you want, boys. Nothing happened.”

They continued to argue, but he just blocked them out, smiling to himself as he thought of the party and his evening spent with Ruth. John’s eyes drifted over to Gale across the room, who was seemingly doing the same thing, a small grin on his face that only appeared in Hope’s presence or at the thought of the nurse.

Feeling eyes on him, Buck’s gaze roamed around the room until it met Johnny’s over his book. The older man sent him a questioning eyebrow and when Gale shrugged with a smirk, he knew all he needed to know. When Gale sent him the same look, Bucky simply winked and went back to his book, and knew he was telling the truth.

It seemed the women in their lives brought out the other side of them…Hope brought out Gale’s bolder side, and Ruth brought out the loving and calmer John that Buck knew him to be.

The rest of the hut was still in disbelief at the atypical behavior of the majors, but Hugh just grinned from his position on his cot…he knew exactly why they both acted that way:

They were in love.

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby @blueberry-ovaries @forsythiagalt

[nanowrimo]

How to Avoid Token Representation

What's the difference between token representation and authentic representation? NaNo Participant Nayantara discusses token representation and how to avoid doing it in your own writing! The smart Asian character. The sassy Black character. The Gay Best Friend.

Too many stories written today that supposedly have “diverse” casts fall prey to “token representation”: a symbolic effort towards inclusion that gives the appearance of equality, without actually exploring diverse narratives.

Recently in the publishing industry, readers have been calling for more representation within their novels, whether it is the LGBTQ+ community, racially and ethnically diverse readers, people with disabilities, or other marginalised groups of people, and many authors have responded with this easy-way-out tokenism — leaving readers unsatisfied and indignant.

So, what exactly is the difference between token diversity and real representation?

Essentially, tokenism includes a character that checks boxes titled “diversity” in face and name, but does not acknowledge their lived experience.

For example, Cho Chang in the Harry Potter series and Lane Kim in Gilmore Girlsare reduced to harmful stereotypes of their characters (both their names and characteristics) without acknowledging the diverse experiences that East Asian people have. Their Asianness becomes their entire character, yet at the same time, that same Asianness is entirely misunderstood.

In contrast, the recent Oscar-winning film Everything Everywhere All At Once stars East Asian characters whose lives are affected by their race and background. However, they are fully fleshed out characters regardless of it.

As actor, Anna Leong Brophy, said in an interview, she enjoys it when her “Asianness complements a role, but is not the full role.” Real representation acknowledges how someone’s lived experience as a person of colour, queer person, woman, or member of another marginalised community affects their life — but they have genuine feelings, thoughts, and characteristics far beyond simply their race or identity.

The terms “Black dude dies first” and “Bury your gays” are also commonly associated with token representation. Quite self-explanatory, they are tropes in which the cast’s “diverse” characters are killed early, to save the writer from having to explore or acknowledge their experiences.

Not only is this lazy writing that erases diverse narratives, it also creates the subconscious belief that marginalised groups of people have no place in these stories or in commercialised publishing in general. Everyone deserves representation, whether or not the cis-het (cisgender-heterosexual) white reader can relate to the character’s specific cultural experience.

What counts as good representation, then?

Good representation involves any story that includes a diverse cast and follows each of their story lines fully, allowing them to be well-rounded characters that contain depth and get adequate development.

My personal favourite example of this is Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows duology, where her cast of six main characters includes Black and Brown people, bisexual and gay people, people from different countries and religions, and people recovering from trauma — all of whom have their own, carefully constructed character arcs that acknowledge their identity, but also give them substance and characteristics far beyond that.

However, this is not to say every story has to be as international — The Poppy War trilogy by R.F. Kuang has a solely East Asian coded cast due to its setting. But even within this, her characters are from different ethnic, religious, and social backgrounds, and each have their own, carefully-constructed character arc extending far beyond their identity on paper.

As you begin writing for Camp NaNoWriMo, ask yourself the following three questions:

Is my cast truly representing the diverse types of people who exist in this world (either real or imagined)?

Are each of these characters individuals beyond simply their ethnicity, sexuality, gender, disability, etc?

Do each of these characters have a fully fleshed out character arc?

You don’t have to be an author from a marginalised or minority background to write characters with diverse experiences. Just make sure to approach each character with empathy and respect, and devote adequate time to research (or to world building, if you’re a fantasy author!)

Good luck, and I know that you are going to absolutely smash your writing goals next month!

Nayantara is an 18 year old student, green tea connoisseur, bookworm, Spotify-playlist-maker, dancer, and writer hoping to study economics and political science at university next year — and hopefully find some time to work on her many unfinished novels in the meantime! Follow her on Instagram @ moonlitsunflowerbooks.

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto from Pexels