#would've posted when i had a finished product but the thing is i don't have a finished product

[corgi-cthuwu]

I've been holding out on this for so long but I don't know what to do about it anymore--

Anyone who knows how to color and/or draw faces, please just go wild on this and reblog your finished output!!

[parfaitblogs]

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 

When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 

"No. You're not," he reassured. 

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[bunny-1111]

I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

[pomefioredove]

Hiya! Do you think you could write something romantic and fluffy with Vil? I love him!

hi anon of course! I am so unwell about this man

summary: being friends with vil schoenheit has its perks type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, mentions of food, friends to lovers huhuhu, maybe a tiny bit suggestive but also not really? lap-sitting and kissing

Someone should write a guide on how to be friends with Vil Schoenheit.

It did not come as naturally to you as you would have hoped. There were times when he felt like a star in your presence, not the actor kind, but the heavenly body.

Bright, and burning, and millions of miles away. Even as he sat directly across from you.

"You're not eating," he remarks. The comment is not degrading, though it is tinged with curiosity. "Is it bad?"

You haven't even sampled the meal yet- something fancy and expensive that you likely couldn't pronounce. He'd ordered it for you.

"It's okay," you lie.

He either buys your excuse, or ignores it. Either way, he reaches across the gossamer table cloth and switches your plates without asking.

Vil Schoenheit Friendship Survival Manual, rule number one: always assume his judgment is correct, until proven otherwise.

You look down at the plate- some kind of vegetable dish. He urges you on with a nod, lilac eyes fixed firmly on your pleasantly surprised reaction when you take a bite.

Rule number two: his judgment is always correct.

"Better?" he asks, not bothering to finish your food. He'll likely get something else later. "You really shouldn't skip meals. If you were feeling unwell, you should have said so. I would've ordered something lighter for you."

"Sorry. Didn't think of it," you say, taking another bite of his meal, if only to appease him.

You're hesitant to mention that the heavy feeling in your chest wasn't from illness, and so you say nothing more.

"No need to apologize. Here,"

Vil delicately reaches across the table and dabs at the corner of your mouth with his napkin. You hate how light-headed such a simple action makes you feel.

"Better. And don't worry about smudging anything, I have a few new products I'd like to try out on you later,"

Rule number three: always accept his gifts.

"Thanks," you murmur.

You were starting to feel as if you really were ill, the way your entire body warmed in his presence. Vil brought out a feverish sort of stupidity in you that made outings like this a minefield to navigate.

How painfully cliché, you thought. Hopelessly in love with someone far out of your league, with infinite options, none of which you could even hope to catch up to...

It made these evenings together pure torture.

You felt guilty for wishing he wasn't such an amazing friend. Must he insist on showering you in gifts and holding your hand every time you cross the street?

But being in his bedroom is another, dirtier realm of guilt. Vil saw you as a friend. Platonic. Someone he confided in, who he took under his wing. You were allowed to see parts of him no one else had, and yet, you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying because you can't stop thinking about the way his lips look when he speaks.

"Did you understand any of that?" he asks, bending down to your level as you sit on his bed. On his bed. And you had the mind to be thinking about doing romantic things...

Rule number four: speak when spoken to.

"No, sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind lately,"

Vil clicks his tongue and holds a hand to your forehead, feeling for temperature. "And you're sure you're not ill?"

"I'm fine! Just distracted,"

He chuckles, walking across the room to peruse his vanity. "Hm... and what sort of thoughts have got you scatterbrained today?"

You can feel your skin burning again. He could tell, couldn't he? All these weeks of coming undone every time he so much as looks your way couldn't have gone over his head... could they?

Or perhaps he was just used to people staring at him, stumbling over their words every time he spoke. Perhaps you were just another foolish fan who'd gotten to know him before falling in love.

You couldn't help but wish that there was someone or something that would just tell you what to do.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Vil sits beside you, a small, wooden box in hand.

"I'm supposed to promote these next weekend, but I'm not sure about them, yet," he says, opening the lid to reveal a plethora of lipsticks that likely cost more than your existence. "I'll need your opinion, of course."

"Right," you murmur.

"And I'd like to try them on you, as well,"

"Of course,"

"And you're alright with that?"

You nod. Ever the gentleman, always asking for permission. He's been quite generous with his products lately, giving them away to you like candy. You're almost certain he has a full list of your allergens somewhere.

Vil returns to the vanity, delicately prepping, and then applying the first shade. It's a marvelous, metallic pink, with dark red undertones that make it a regal color. It suits him, and you say as much.

"Oh, you think so? I suppose it does compliment my eyes, although I'd definitely need to pair it with something darker, else it become too overpowering..."

He clicks his tongue, and then turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Your turn. Come sit,"

There isn't another chair at the vanity, and you take that as your cue to awkwardly stand in front of him until he tells you what to do. He chuckles, amused by some thought of his that he doesn't share aloud.

"What are you standing there for? Sit,"

You awkwardly look around the space, eyes searching for a mysteriously hidden stool, something that should have been obvious...

He smiles. "Oh, don't be shy. We've known each other long enough by now, haven't we?"

You can't think of the right thing to ask, although your thoughts are quickly cut off by the sight of him gently patting his lap.

Sevens. If there were any time to wake up, this was it.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

He's not joking, of course. Vil hardly jokes. And so, you awkwardly straddle his lap, facing towards him, and allow him to get a good look at your visage.

He holds your chin firmly, studying your features as if he hasn't already seen them a thousand times before.

"Stay still,"

He's going to give you a heart attack, and there's a little quirk in his smile that tells you he knows it, too.

You wonder what your tag at the morgue will say. Death by Vil Schoenheit?

He starts with your skin, commenting on how soft it's gotten since he met you, then your eyes...

...Once he's satisfied, as he always is with his work, he turns your head so you can admire the makeup look in the mirror behind you.

"Stunning," he comments. "But you're missing something."

You look back, eyes wide. Surely, he hadn't forgotten something...? That's simply not in his nature.

He smiles at your confusion. "Remember? You promised to test these for me?"

Right. The lipstick. You nod. "Yes, but, I thought you'd already..."

"Oh, I do like the color. I'm just worried about this brand," Vil says. He looks away for a moment, almost as if to summon his courage... what a strange expression on him.

"What's wrong with the brand?"

He turns back with a small smirk. "They have a nasty reputation for smudging easily. I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself next weekend, hm?"

His cups your chin again, bringing you closer.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him!

He tilts his head to the side. "You don't mind, do you?"

You couldn't have shaken your head any faster, even with his grip on your chin.

"Good. Now, stay still. I think this will be a good color on you, anyway,"

He pulls you in with ease, letting his lips rest on yours for a second or two, before pulling back. Short but sweet, enough to make you feel like your entire body has gone numb.

He inspects your face, humming to himself...

"Good so far," he says, bringing you closer again. "But that was too safe. I won't hold back next time. Are you ready?"

You nod. Barely anything had happened, and you're already breathless. "Ready,"

Another smile crosses his perfect face, though he doesn't give you any time to admire it before he's kissing you again, one hand still cupping your face, the other holding the back of your neck and pressing you closer.

Definitely not a very platonic kiss.

It takes him longer to pull away this time, though when he does, it gives you a perfect view of his still-pristine makeup.

"Hmm... still nothing. I'm quite impressed with this line," he says, reaching behind you and returning with the wooden box. "How do you feel?"

Dizzy. Light-headed. Warm.

"Good," you say.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Or do.

"Not too much, I hope?"

A delightful realization was beginning to come over you, one that made all you had thought about him null and void:

No one else could possibly give you a guide on Vil Schoenheit, because he writes the rules himself.

"No. That was perfect,"

"Excellent," he smiles, and flips the box open again. "Because we still have six more colors to test."

[bettsfic]

Hi Betts,

Thanks for continuously posting helpful advice.

I just wanted to know— how does someone go about getting to the point in their writing where they are not so precious with words in hopes of taking off the pressure when drafting?(in reference to a previous post)

i remember a few years ago, there was this very well known and popular fanartist whose name i won't give because they're no longer on tumblr or even going by their handle anymore. they received an ask much like this one in which they said something to the effect of, they could spend hundreds of hours on a piece of art and be willing to throw it away, because (and this is from memory because i can't find the original post) there will always be more art.

i remember being aghast about that. how could you spend so much time working on something and just...not do anything with it? scrap it and start over? maybe even delete the file?

and more importantly, i remember wondering how an artist could even reach that point.

maybe everyone gets there in a different way, but for me it was the emergence of a bigger picture, that i don't write to be read or seen or understood, but so i can explore things that can't otherwise be explored, and live experiences that can't be lived. for me, the value is in the process, not the product. and, to the artist's point, there will always be more words.

more concretely, it was also spending an entire year working on a novel, only to realize that what i wanted it to be was not what fit in the market, and that to make it marketable i would've had to have made revisions that would've changed the thing i wanted it to be. so i realized publication isn't endgame; it's happenstance. a few things i write may be marketable, but probably only a fraction of them, and only if what i write overlaps with what is being sold. a venn diagram of "stories that will be published" and "stories that i enjoy writing" are often two circles about a mile apart. whether or not a story is marketable doesn't affect my personal opinion of it.

the same is true for fanfic. if i finish a fic, i post it for the sake of archiving it. i don't pay much attention to traffic (but i do read comments), and it's been a long time since i've written consistently in a popular fandom. in fact the last fic i posted only had one other fic in the ship tag. the point of writing fic, for me, is to get it out of my brain and onto a page, and if someone eventually comes upon it and enjoys it, great.

i'm definitely not at the point where i can just straight-up delete work, but i can write something for a very long time and be satisfied even if no one ever looks at it. it does bum me out when i care about something so much and nobody else does or will, but that's the nature of writing, and art in general. nobody cares as much as you do, and even if you write something that's wildly successful, read and loved by millions, award-winning, adapted to screen--still, all those people will have their individual, private relationship with the thing you wrote, will perceive it in their own unique way, and even if it changes their life, the story can never give them what it gave you.

i don't mean for that to be depressing or deterring. what i hope you take from it is that your feelings toward your work are more important than anyone else's feelings toward it, and not everything has to be seen and admired in order to be worthy enough to exist. sometimes you have to take the risk of being unseen to create your best work.

[queermania]

No that's exactly why I'm asking you. I think you can be normal about it and I trust your opinions but it's totally okay if you don't feel comfortable doing it but if you do I'd be really grateful 🙏🏽

ummm okay yeah i can do that. i'm just gonna straight up start with the songs that i've used for my swiftnatural posting. it just seems like the most obvious place to start:

maroon for this destiel set. listen to it with the volume up and headphones on. it does some really freaking cool stuff sonically.

would've could've should've for this samruby set. this song is for anybody who likes religious imagery or hates john mayer for any number of reasons including but not limited to the way he speaks about women in public. fuck that guy :)

i did something bad for this demon!dean set that i hate and should redo but that's neither here nor there. i linked a live performance simply because i like what her and her band and her backup singers do with it live more than i like the studio version. you don't have to actually watch the performance if you don't want (i personally have a very hard time watching her perform for reasons that i won't get into beacuse i don't want to get yelled at) but the production value is crazy and nobody can argue that she isn't putting on a Show. i also just think this song is so fun and i think if it came from anybody else everyone would agree.

this is me trying for this post that i never really made haha. this is also not the studio version but i think this is a song that really benefits from a more stripped down intimate feeling.

as for what else you should listen to, well, to be honest it's really hard to say because her catalogue is vast and all over the place. the song that is like thee taylor swift song that everybody points to in order to showcase her songwriting ability is all too well. there are three four versions of this (not counting live performances) and i think most people will probably say the ten minute one from the vault is the one you have to listen to but my unpopular opinion is that the original five minute recording is the strongest version as a finished product. but i will say that it's impressive that a song can be ten minutes without a chorus or really even a hook and not make you wonder when it's going to be over already. so i don't disagree that the ten minute one is worth a listen too.

my tears ricochet is another one that's really strong in terms of songwriting. i'm of the opinion that knowing all of the ~lore behind every single song is not necessarily a good thing but i do think in this case it elevates the song so: it's about being screwed out of her masters by a record executive whose record label she helped make.

exile and evermore with bon iver are good options simply because of how interestingly the deepness of his voice pairs with the softness of hers.

i would die for cornelia street. i don't know how anybody else feels about it and i don't have any deep thoughts about it. it just makes me happy.

i think her newest album is Not Great but i like the lead single, fortnight, a lot and it continues to grow on me. from what i've gathered i'm in the minority on this one though haha.

another unpopular opinion: i don't love 1989. i know it's thee album for a lot of people but i've just never loved the sound of it. but! (and this is where it gets really unpopular) ryan adams covered almost the entire album and i adore his version of most of those songs. unfortunately ryan adams is a garbage person so i don't really want to rec him but it is what it is. for a more rock-y, almost country-ish sound i highly recommend all you had to do was stay and i wish you would.

also, i don't care what anybody says, we are never ever getting back together was and still is fun, especially the live version with the electric guitar.

i like a lot more of her songs but i think this is a nice little starter?

(sorry for linking to youtube instead of spotify or whatever streaming thing the youth are using these days but i am just not hip)

[spicybylerpolls]

In response to that anon about how sex couldn't possibly have always been heavily tied to and the natural narrative arc the Duffers had in mind for Mike and Will -

Well, for one (and correct me if I'm wrong), if the pandemic hadn't happened, they would've filmed S4 throughout 2020 and likely wrapped post-production sometime in spring/summer of 2021 (possibly later). This means we would've got a late summer or fall of 2021 S4 rather than summer of 2022.

This also means filming for S5 would have likely started in Spring of 2022, or even later if we consider the fact that S4 actually finished in July of 2022 and production PRIOR to the WGA strike was supposed to start in Spring of 2023 (IIRC) That's nearly a year gap. Not only that but if you go onto the wikipedia page for S5, you'll see that because of the pandemic the Duffers were able to completely outline and rework S5. So if the pandemic didn't happen, they would also have to do an outline as well as actually write S5 post S4's drop in the late summer/fall of 2021 (in this magical, theoretical timeline).

Honestly, with this in mind, I wouldn't see filming for S5 commencing until mid 2022, possibly even the early fall.

So basically the theoretical timeline without COVID and the WGA strike would be:

2020: Film S4

End of 2020 - Mid/Late 2021: Post production

Late 2021: S4 Drops

Summer/Early Fall 2022: S5 Filming begins

This would put Noah's age at 17, almost 18 and Finn at 19 almost 20. And presumably the hypothetical sex scene wouldn't happen until the later episodes so by then Noah would be 18 and Finn would be a full 20 years old, and likely almost 21.

Like, say the scene happens in Episode 7. This would be the very tail end of production, as we know they pretty much film in blocks. This would be June of 2023 or around there... Noah nearly 19 and Finn 6ish months away from being able to legally drink anywhere in the world. Lol.

Also, Finn literally has a scene in WYFSTW where his character masturbates, and he was just 18 when he portrayed that. Why are people so disgusted by the idea of him portraying something extremely similar to this but as Mike?! In my opinion this proves it's not just about the actors (and seeing them grow up) because I haven't seen anyone say it was weird for including that scene in that movie ...

BUT REGARDLESS, like spicybylerpolls said - there are a ton of examples, WELL RESPECTED examples at that, of underage actors portraying a storyline involving sex. I mean, look no further than Degrassi. Almost all of the actors are cast as teens (sometimes pre-teens) and almost all of the characters have a storyline to do with sex at some point, most of them when they're underage.

This is a perfect example because the point of these storylines are to educate teens on sex (the same thing Mike and Will's storyline would be doing for many queer kids btw) and also to represent their many, many confusing feelings about sex. And yes, all of the actual sex scenes in Degrassi are implied - which, although people have explained how an explicit scene would be important for Mike and Will's storyline, ultimately it's not absolutely necessary for them. (Although I don't think an implied sex scene in the same vein as Degrassi (or even Jancy) is going to work within the darker tone of S5 but I digress...)

Anyway, there's a ton more examples beyond just Degrassi [Skins is the first that pops to mind] but no I don't think it would be weird for a 17 year old to have a make out and then *implied* sex scene when it's already been done and accepted in the past with absolutely no issue (as long as the actors are comfortable of course).

But this isn't what's happening so who cares. And we have already heard the Duffers state that, although they have had a lot of it planned out, they do write for the actors too. I can even recall them saying how when they got back on set for either S3 or S4 they realized the kids ... weren't kids anymore and they were going to have to write to that.

So yeah, I think it's totally possibly the Duffers imagined that in the end, Mike and Will would overcome their shame about their sexuality by ... having sex together, however that looked on screen, since there are a myriad of ways to do this without showing sex at all.

[jammatown919]

Plus One

This has been sitting in my drafts 99% done for like, four months now, so I figured I'd finish it up and send it out since I haven't posted any writing in a hot minute.

-----

"Cupcake, I really don't think this is a good idea."

"I'm sorry, Vi, but it's been three months. I can't hold her off any longer."

So this was Vi's punishment for falling in love. After seven years wasted in prison and everything that had gone wrong with her sister, she'd finally found a reason to smile again; the woman of her dreams, standing directly behind her as she looked at herself, hardly recognizable, in the mirror. This woman right here was the light of Vi's life, and things were damn near perfect.

If only a formal introduction to Piltovan high society wasn't part of the package deal.

"Do I seriously have to wear this?" Vi adjusted the collar of her impossibly expensive suit, still grimacing at her neat, slicked-back hair which she feared might never be completely gel-free again.

"I offered you a dress," Caitlyn replied, dressed just as formally as Vi but pulling off her sleek navy gown and high heels significantly better. Her hair, pulled into a neat twisted bun, was immaculate without any product, which was just not fair, honestly.

"Then you would've made me wear heels," Vi grumbled. She swore the collar was making a conscious effort to choke her. "Cait, I don't wanna go to this thing."

"I know, love." To her credit, Caitlyn was incredibly sympathetic, and she had valiantly held off her vulture of a mother from trying to present Vi at one of these events for an impressively long time. Unfortunately, though, sympathy didn't get Vi out of this suit or her "responsibility as Caitlyn's partner", as Cassandra had put it.

What a piece of work. 

If not for her insistence, Caitlyn and Tobias would have been fine with Vi continuing to sit out of all the events the Kirammans hosted and attended, but alas, neither of them seemed to know how to tell their matriarch no.

She tried to remind herself this wasn't for Cassandra. It was for Caitlyn, so her mother would get off her back about it and stop starting arguments. It was so the two of them wouldn't have to endure any more awkward dinners or pointed questions about why Vi was "hiding" from all those stuck-up elites. As if she needed a reason. 

"Can we say I'm sick?" Vi asked, reminding herself of a much younger Powder trying to weasel her way out of chores. God, she missed that kid. 

"She'll just make you go to the next one," Caitlyn replied, refocusing Vi before she could think too hard about the sister she'd lost. "It's best to just get it out of the way now. The first one's always the hardest."

First. Implying there would be more to follow. Great. 

"Do we have to stay the whole time? What if I get in there, say hi to everyone I'm supposed to be nice to, and we just go?" 

"The whole thing won't even be two hours," Caitlyn said, and when Vi turned to face her, she was completely serious. "It's just a cocktail party."

"We're getting this dressed up for less than two hours?" Thought it sounded a bit silly to put this much effort into their appearances for just a short event, Vi was infinitely relieved that she'd be out of this damn suit sooner than she'd thought. 

"These things are intentionally short," Caitlyn said, reaching out to fix Vi's tie. "Long enough to catch up with people, but short enough to avoid anyone getting too tired or bored. It won't be that bad, really. It's just drinks, appetizers, and small talk."

"Drinks and appetizers don't sound that bad," Vi replied. "It's the small talk I'm worried about. The hell am I supposed to talk about with these people?" 

"You won't have to say much," Caitlyn promised, gently caressing the side of Vi's the way they both loved. "Just stay with me and follow my lead. It'll be over soon enough."

Vi took a deep breath and nodded, looking herself over in the mirror one last time. She didn't particularly care whether her tie was just so or her hair was perfectly neat, but Cassandra would have a fit if she looked anything less than the very high Kiramman standard of presentable. 

"Ready, love?" Caitlyn reached for Vi's hand, looking at her expectantly. Vi sighed and resigned herself to her fate. 

"As I'll ever be."

---------

As it turned out, Vi shouldn't have been as worried as she'd been back home. No, she should have been far, far more worried. 

Despite the Kirammans' insistence that this was a relatively small affair, there were at least fifty people present when they entered the ballroom where some friend of the family Vi had never met liked to host their guests, and they were all staring at her. 

Some were better at than others, stealing glances when they thought she was looking far enough in another direction that she wouldn't notice, but some were absolutely shameless in their stares. But worst of all were the whispers. Caitlyn had warned her to expect some type of reaction to their relationship, but it seemed her place of origin was the hot topic of the evening. 

She didn't know why she was mad. She' been expecting this. She knew how these people were, and her hot pink hair and face tattoo clearly marked her as other in this room of neat Topsiders, but she'd thought she wouldn't care. That she was above their bullshit opinions and nothing they said would matter to her because she'd heard it all before. 

But this wasn't like the other times. Before, she'd had some sense of pride in herself, knowing she was a daughter of the fissures and the Pilties were on her turf. Now she was on their turf, dressed up as one of them, making an effort to appear as something she wasn't because she loved Caitlyn so goddamn much, and they looked at her much differently than she was used to. Enforcers had looked down on her before, but as the dirty street kid who was probably going to punch them in the face, and that was something she could live with. These people looked at her like some exotic pet the Kirammans had brought to the party. And, in a way, she was. 

They all knew it. Their whispers told her. All they saw her as was the Kiramman girl's dressed up stray. A street thug that may or may not be domesticated, depending on who you asked.  An adventurous fling that never should have been made public. A phase that Caitlyn would hopefully grow out of. 

That last one was what really got to her. The idea that Caitlyn didn't really love her, that this was nothing more than a rich girl looking for a thrill, that their relationship wasn't real. Maybe she could have gritted her teeth through the rest of it, but she wasn't going to stand here and listen to these people who didn't know anything make assumptions and throw around theories about the last good thing in her life. She had to leave, or jaws were going to break. 

All in all, she lasted twenty minutes. 

After that, she was pushing her way out past stupid Pilties who were extremely offended that she'd nudged them aside or forgotten to say "excuse me" or whatever the hell mattered to these people. Caitlyn was quick to follow, softly calling her name and apologizing absently to all of the people she'd shouldered out of her way. 

Things were better out on the patio. Quieter. Two people minding their own business on the opposite side, paying absolutely no attention to Vi finding a spot to lean against a railing or Caitlyn chasing her outside. 

"Vi-" Caitlyn began, but Vi didn't let her get far. 

"I'm not going back in there," she snapped, cringing internally at the vaguely hurt expression on Caitlyn's face. She shouldn't snap at her. It wasn't her fault. "Look, Cupcake, I'm sorry, but this whole thing was a mistake. I know this is important to you, but I don't want to be stared at and talked about like some exotic thing."

"I know," Caitlyn replied softly. She slowly walked toward Vi until they were side by side, in similar positions with their folded arms bracing them against the railing. "I'm sorry I made you come here. I should have known this would happen." 

"You didn't make me," Vi reminded her. "Your mom did."

"I'm a grown woman. I should be able to tell my mother no."

"Guess that makes two of us."

"No, this one isn't on you," Caitlyn said. "You were trying to accommodate us. You had no idea what to expect, but I've been plenty of these things. It was my responsibility to recognize how this would be for you and not put you in this situation."

"Cait-"

"Don't tell me it's not my fault. You said no and I didn't listen." Caitlyn ran a hand through her hair with a heavy sigh. "We don't have to go back in. And I won't make you go to any more events. If my mother has any complaints, she can kindly shove them... well, you get the idea."

Vi snorted in a way the Pilties back inside would probably describe as undignified. 

"You know..." she said, a hint of mischief in her tone. "I think hearing you tell your mom to shove her complaints up her ass would be the perfect way to make this up to me."

"Oh, quiet, you." Caitlyn gave her a light, playful shove. "I have a better way to make it up to you, anyway." She made a show of her eyes traveling up and down Vi's body, completely shamelessly. "If you're open to it, that is?"

"When am I not?" Vi looped an arm around Caitlyn's waist and pulled her in a little closer. "Maybe we should get out of here before I tear that dress off you."

"Lower your voice!" Caitlyn hissed, but she was laughing all the same. 

"Yes, ma'am," Vi replied flirtatiously.

"Save that for later," Caitlyn said in a warning voice. "Come on. Before my mother tries to drag us back inside." 

"Like she could," Vi scoffed, but she took Caitlyn's outstretched hand regardless and followed her to and down the little set of stairs connecting the patio to an unnecessarily large garden. 

It didn't look like guests were supposed to be out here, but Caitlyn walked confidently enough that neither the guests on the patio nor the random gardener working on a flowerbed batted an eye at them as they circled around the impressive property to the giant front entrance where they'd been greeted. 

There were a few people lingering here, but Caitlyn paid them no mind, so neither did Vi. It felt a little weird, like someone was going to call out and stop them any moment. The feeling reminded Vi of sneaking around Vander as a kid, either to go out way too late at night or sneak a sip of something from The Last Drop. What she wouldn't give to hear that old voice scolding her. 

Now, if anyone thought to stop her, it would be nothing but high-pitched Piltie voices, but fortunately, no one cared enough. Vi and Caitlyn were free to walk home in peace. 

"Think anyone'll notice we left?" Vi asked once they were more or less clear of the property. 

"Oh, my mother will have a fit," Caitlyn replied with a tiny, adorable roll of her eyes. "We might not be hearing the end of this for a while." 

"What else is new?" Vi said lightly. "How long do you think we have?"

"By the time we get home, I'd say we'll have a good hour and half of peace."

"Who said anything about peace?" Vi's hand slipped out of Caitlyn's and gently trailed down her thigh. "I thought you were making this up to me."

Caitlyn swatted her hand away, but she couldn't hide her little smile or the pink tint in her cheeks. 

"Of course. How could I forget?" she replied. 

"Y'know..." Vi continued mischievously, "I don't think an hour and a half sounds quite long enough. Why don't we pick up the pace? I'll race you."

"Vi, I'm in heels!" Caitlyn exclaimed as Vi grabbed her arm again and tugged her along. 

"You can run in heels."

"Not these ones!" 

"Guess we know who's winning, then." Vi made a big show of speeding up, but she didn't really take off the way she'd grown up doing. If she'd really wanted to, she could've left Caitlyn in the dust, even in this restrictive outfit, but this was all for fun. 

Besides, she would never dream of missing out on the way Caitlyn tried to hurry along in those horrendous stilts she called shoes. Absolutely adorable. 

"C'mon," she called, with absolutely no regard for the fact that they were jogging down a public street. "First one to bed gets to top."

And suddenly Caitlyn could run on stilts. 

It seemed Vi's night was about to get a whole lot better. 

----

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[rahleeyah]

Ok lasts nights episode was I think one of its best. 🔥🔥🔥

what do you think about m saying to the tidy show that it’s going to take a min? Like realistically we know they have to talk and all that but like it’s also been 2-3 years?

also, I’m starting to get on board with what someone was saying on Twitter a while ago that each ep has some sort of parallel to eo and that it’s all building towards something. are we reaching or is there some validity there?

I talked about this immediately post epi but imo the theory that there are parallels isn't a theory bc there are parallels. It's just there that's a fact lol the parallels are intentional. DG posted about the desk on Instagram. Like. Whatever the end result is, they are putting parallels in there, on purpose, and here's where the theory enters into it is that the kind of work they are doing is the work you do when you are building to a narrative payoff where all the threads come together, but until we have the finished product we don't know if we will actually get it. Even tho DG and c&m want - and even attempted - to give us everything they've promised, interference coming from the top keeps getting in the way. That's not their fault; they're trying.

And I do think I'm ok with it taking a minute bc yeah it's been 2-3 years but when you look at what's happened in that time things got worse between them. Like after fin's sort of wedding that would've been a perfect moment for them but then they had Elliot ghost Liv and go undercover and that imo resets the clock; they lost a lot of ground as far as her trusting him. They could've done something while he was under with the brotherhood - that would've been so sexy tbh lmao - but they had Elliot's focus elsewhere and they had Liv tell him not while he's under so we lost that time too. It's not like they spent those 2-3 years in a stable, happy place where a relationship seemed feasible. They're in that place now. Now we're doing the work. So it'll take a little while longer, but I do think we spent all this time climbing the hill of the rollercoaster and we've finally gone over the top and we're rushing towards something new now.

[sidekey-the-cynical]

I haven't been drawing much

I'd hope I would've done more than what I've done in the last few weeks, months, heck YEARS. I'm an artist by heart, but when it mattered most I choked. I was an animation and illustration student. Until I failed a mid program review;

Now I'm just second rate; BFA > BA

Well Alright Fine, people tell me not to be so pessimistic, especially while I disparage my art, but things just haven't felt same since then. It's been nearly 1 year and half by now. Can't Let go.

What do you even do as a "Design Studies" major focused in Animation and Illustration anyways— Half ass animation and half ass design at the same time?

I'd been meaning to post consistently on here and there; somewhere you know. Just to have something out there.

I might as well post some art if I'm gunna type for a while. I usually just sulk about art whenever I talk about art nowadays. I like art, I'm sure all artists who hate art do. We're burnt out? We're lazy? We're just jealous of other people's art?

I don't wanna blame adhd when I'm not even diagnosed, so {"everything I think makes me a terrible person"} it is—

I wish I could've kept up with myself during college, things could be so much better off if I had just tried harder and believed that I could do it. Just one step at a time. But I couldn't do it, the way it is simply is that my art is mid. OK FINE. I just can't make good art fast enough to compete.

My art being bad isn't why I am met with failure. My undiagnosed and unmedicated adhd isn't it either. I know exactly what my failure point is the more I look back..

I am insecure.

That is what's been stopping my hand. That's why it physically hurts to draw now. It's all in my head, that is why I am so stiff on the line art and so tense at the brush. Grant it, might be a product of the shame from adhd and previous failures. Might be the pressure to do well and compete with my peers. Might just be because I'm lazy, or maybe at my core I don't wanna do art as a job?

Doesn't that just sound so pathetic? "If you really were passionate, you wouldn't give up so easily would you?" Not that anyone has said that to me, directly.

Honestly I just thought it was cool to ignore all the quarantine mental health tips during covid times.

Yeah I probably should've exercised more and kept busy then, but I really just slept and watched anime all day and almost failed high school. I was simply too cool to be taking care of myself, so now I suck at being a good student cause honestly, I'm a bit too cool to start taking care of myself aren't I?

No one's perfect, might as well cut my losses and stop being so "cool". I got some work to do before I end up being more of a perma-burnt out failed artist.

God I hate that I know in like 5 years I'm gunna read this and hate my trying too hard to be self aware self. I can't believe it was worse when I was younger. And I'm probably not even that self aware anyways.

I wonder if I'm still good at art. All these example I posted are from about 2 years about when I was still in my old major. I couldn't do this daily for my sketchbooks cause I couldn't even do my sketchbook daily. Bad time management and all. Paralyzed by fear of failure, I couldn't finish work sometimes. It's embarrassing, I wanted to go into art, why couldn't I want it as strongly now that I have to do it for college?

I wonder if after so long now I'm a bit worse. Of course I doodle here and there, but I think I have to have gotten worse now that I'm out of practice. My new major uses all the fundamentals of my old majors, so now all I have left is history classes and not much practicing drawing or animating.

So that's why...

I'd hope I would've done more than what I've done in the last few weeks.

I had all the time, but I'm burnt out since for years now. I'm gunna try to fix this, trust me— Someone trust me, I can fix this right?

[gabenvrhappened]

TvShowsOr... High Fidelity

Read my post about the song I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)

In all fairness, there was no way that the TV version of High Fidelity could be bad. The show is based on a book, that was already adapted into a movie — that I think I'll never get the courage to watch because I can only imagine how much of a brocialist the guy in there must be — and has the perfect ingredients: New York, Zoë Kravitz, and good music. It's like cooking desserts with condensed milk and chocolate: it definitely can't go wrong.

Just the same, in all fairness, it would probably take me too long to give this show a chance, since I tend to be very picky with the productions I watch because I don't want to start something that could end up a) canceled or b) with too many seasons made just to squeeze the fruit until there's nothing left. With High Fidelity, I'm almost certain I read something about it being canceled, so, if it wasn't for the song I Believe, I would have missed this perfection for all my life.

Rob is the kind of girlboss we can't help but envy. We can't deny that people like that in real life can be mesmerizing. She doesn't care what people think about her. She doesn't try too hard to be herself. She just is what she is, and she is the kind of girl that goes on a date with a cut on her hand and with a coffee stain on her shirt. Me? No… I take myself too seriously to ever do that. But seeing her doing it makes me want to do it as well. In fact, in one of the episodes she drank a whole bottle of prosecco on her balcony, and there I was, a few days before, doing the same — on a park bench, feeling super self-conscious, but I did it regardless.

One thing about High Fidelity is that this is a show that breaks the fourth wall, something I wasn't expecting so it took me a bit of adjustment, but then again, I'm constantly pretending to break the fourth wall in my daily basis like the main character I am, so I don't even know why I thought the show would be good without it. Even so, sometimes I feel like someone should try this whole talking-with-the-viewer thing without looking at the camera, as if the character is just speaking to himself without anyone noticing. It could be something different. I just think they missed the opportunity to show someone noticing Rob talking to us, like it once happened in Fleebag, but maybe that would've been too on the nose.

Basically, Rob spends the ten episodes coming back and forth to her top 5 heartbreak list, which I found genius (I can totally see myself doing that), and we meet lots of doubtful ex-lovers, especially Mac, who is so… meh. Love is stupid, after all. Before finishing the show, I read a spoiler that led me to believe she would end up with him (maybe in the movie it's like that?), but thank God she didn't — even though it could have happened, since the season ended with a potential storyline there, even having a decent finale for a canceled show.

In total, we have 10 incredible episodes, with no one feeling like a filler (although the episode featuring the encounter with the eccentric wife selling records came close) but honestly, even if the series consisted of 23 episodes, each lasting 40 minutes like they used to in the old days, it still wouldn't be enough for me. One of the episodes is from the point of view of her best friend, Simon, which was a good change (especially because it showed another perspective on the day we previously saw on a Rob episode), but that felt pointless because her other friend, the awesome Cherise, didn't have the same treatment. She would've absolutely killed in one themed episode just for her, because she is just the best. Coming back to Simon, I have to say, how jealous I am that he found someone like Blake. He's just… so perfect. The actor, Edmund Donovan, is incredible and so familiar, so I gasped when I discovered I had watched Akron with him (and fell in love there as well).

It turned out that Da'vine doesn't sing her version of I Believe on the show, which is another fucking waste, but what a nice surprise was to discover that Thomas Doherty sings. Just like his character on the disastrous Gossip Girl reboot, he's so charming and sexy, and being a singer is just the icing on the cake. Ergh, lucky Rob. But at the end of the day, I was #TeamClyde all the way because how can't you not be with Jake Lacy being there, right?

As with any other New York show, High Fidelity made me love the city even more. It made me want to be there so bad and to have friends like Rob, to go crazy and wild. I feel so uptight sometimes, I wish I could be a messed-up trainwreck like she is, even though I kind of am. Or used to be, since I'm trying to be the best version of myself for my mental health. So I guess I can settle for being a record store owner. The list of intense heartbreak I already have, anyway.

[mixdown01]

Adaption: Final Reflection, POTP

{youtube link xoxo}

And that's post wrapped!

It's been a long semester, and I'm stoked to have learned as much as I have and to have developed the skills and knowledge I now have for the future. I don't have too many photos of post because I was really hunkering down but I'll try to find some to put in!

I'm proud of the work I managed to do in the time we had after picture lock and before the crit. I think an extra day or two to sit on sound and let it marinate would've be nice, but considering, I think I managed my time and schedule well and am glad of that.

(pretty long post so pls open the readmore ive put in!)

I'll start with a quick location sound review - I had no issues, beside the usual nuisances that come with filming outdoors and in businesses. I did what I could to minimize this (the angle/direction of the shotgun really does matter) and it worked, for the most part. I'm going to utilize wingman more in the future, because the sound notes put into the app can be seen in AVID next to the video files- I hadn't realized the info is "burned" into the files like that but this makes communication between sound and camera notes really nice. Of course ill do physical sound notes still, but in addition to wingman too.

Now onto post!

I was stressed about this, I admit. I hadn't done such a dialogue heavy film before, and was only vaguely familiar with the proper workflow. Common sense when organizing is huge though, and the project wasn't messy at all. Initial checkerboarding went smoothly. One thing I was irritated to notice was the quality of the park atmos changed very much depending on what angle we were shooting at relative to the road, which of course I knew would happen when we chose the location, but was still very blah this sucks about. I managed with minimal tension headaches and I think it is very minimally noticeable, if not noticeable at all, in the final product so yay for that.

Leveling and doing a temp mix for their lines, though.... I abused automation and I was holding myself back (to be fair I didn't overuse it but I definitely used it a lot). In one line the actors would start off quiet and then their voices would spike and go loud, which is a combination of delivery and boom oping I think. (It never peaked, and worked for some instances of topic and character and etc but I wanted it not to go up and down always) I gave my boom ops very very very Very basic rundowns on 'How To' and I wish I had sat them down for a more in depth lesson, and I WISH I had headphones for them - but we couldn't get a splitter, or didn't. Going to push for this if I keep outsourcing Ops and don't record and op myself.

ANYWAYS. Finished with that and then went to my favorite bit: DESIGN!!!!! I was very slumped and depressive at this point, so it really picked me up. I wish I had more time to look into certain music choices for scenes, but I am happy with the piano we got scored for the end sequence.

One thing I will say: I had a lot of trouble and internal fighting with How Much I should put in. Originally we had wanted something very stylized and Edgar Wright-esque, but that didn't really end up happening with the coverage we got, and in turn with the edit (which is definitely fine!). But this left me trying to balance not overdoing it, since sound is supposed to mesh well with the edit and visuals, but I felt like I HAD to make it stylized in order to try and get closer to what we wanted OG. I think I did an okay job - in the crit Olivia said the sound did all the heavylifting, which I still cannot decide is a compliment or a detriment. While I'm half glad it got noticed in a- positive?- light, im also kind of eh about it since technically it should enhance the world and match it, not 'heavylift' it.

Through the process Anne Marie helped me a lot with suggestions and notes: here are some I found below from my phone, they probably make no sense heh, I also had markers on pro tools I was referring too as well

Phew, that's long. I'll end on a happy note before I go into things I will incorporate into the workflow for next time. I'm glad I didn't have any technical issues, and all my qualms were creative. Even though I will be pushing for earlier picture lock on future films, because I feel I haven’t been able to breath when sound is left for minute (mainly because I’m trying to balance getting it all done and doing work I’m proud of) I'm content with what I managed to get done in the time I was given. I started Sound 7 days before the crit when picture was locked, and I managed to do what I think is an alright job! So, success, and a good test of my time management skills, because I had to learn to stop nitpicking cause more often than not it's fine and no one else can hear it but you.

THINGS TO INCORPORATE/MAIN TAKEAWAYS~

Wingman notes for the editor

set the edit window and sound window DURING PRE PROD, not during production. See if people can give you a week and a half at least for sound so it can breath a little bit and you don't waste away in SAS. Also so you can do a proper Mix and not a temp one

TEMP SOUND IN AVID - have a meeting with the editor to see what you can give them, and to say they can put in temp sound if they think something similar should go in certain places. Mainly for music and timing instances.

Decide on a color coding system so I use the same colors for everything always moving forward and It doesn't vary depending on the project (look up industry standard)

VOICEOVER IS A SCRIPT/STORY/PRODUCTION ASPECT not a sound department aspect

Drink more water to avoid tension headaches

xoxo I really hope everyone a good summer and to lots of learning and growing in their field!

[cescalr]

@yogs21134 :D I love rambling, so I'm glad that works out well!

Also: WHAT.

I admit I never paid much attention to the bts stuff (for a really long time I didn't even know it existed; for example all the stuff Hellstrand put on tumblr for Rythian's backstory was irrelevant to me, since I didn't use tumblr until 2016 - so I only had what was in the series itself, and in the same way I considered authors' word of god for books to not matter, I went the same way with the improv stuff; i think a little differently now, because at least those books are finished products - most of what we're told bts for yogsmc are things that would've actually happened, had they had the chance to execute those storylines to completion. Without any full context for Israphel!TMD, I have to say I'm not..... fond. My knee-jerk reaction is what about my tragic greek hero Xephos :( what about his fall from grace? The hero and the villain of the story? What about all the foreshadowing easter eggs. That would feel kind of left-field, and wouldn't imo be particularly satisfying. It'd feel like one of those twist endings TV show writers do where they panic that the fandom figured out the mystery rather than accepting that they did and their foreshadowing worked. You're supposed to figure out the mystery before the end! it makes the audience feel intelligent! The watcher/reader/etc is supposed to have all the clues to figure out whodunnit roughly at the same time in the narrative as the detective. Similarly, twist villains in fantasy stories are oft better done when you could figure it out. One of my favourite examples is in Keys to the Kingdom - aimed at roughly the same audience as YogsMC, or at least read by a similar age-range as who ended up watching Yogs content back in the day - by Garth Nix. You could figure out what was going on the whole time if you paid attention. But its still a surprise that he went through with that twist, and the ending is pretty bittersweet because of it. I love that series. I just like randomly shoving it into discussions of narrative cohesion, lol. Xephos = Israphel is sooooooooooooo narratively juicy. Any other option imo pales in comparison.

Oh, really? Hm. Good to know! Guess that's why it didn't feel like I missed anything, since I guess watching the end of it was all I needed to see. There are a lot of epsiodes of YogsMC series that you can freely skip, after all, given it's only semi-scripted storytelling and mostly comedy improv silly times <3. I love the comedy improv silly times. Not saying I don't! Shenanigans my beloved. TV cutting out "filler" (character building, dynamic progressing, tone reliving breather) episodes and going from like 22 to 10 a season is just depressing. Bring back MotW damnnit, lol. Still - what I'm saying is that, like a lot of other shows, I guess FB3 is one of those seasons people would call "filler", then?

@fumblemore first of all; congrats on snapping up that username, my guy. Epic. Secondly: Thanks <3 Lal being in SOI fuels so much of my yogsmc brain rot, you have no idea!! I really do need to fully rewatch the series, though; there's probably loads of little things lost to the decade and change since the first (and last) time I did! Alas, I'm in the process of watching EVOSMP for the first time, so that's gonna.... take a while.

Hm.

(EVO's really interesting for what happens to Martyn after the yogsmc stuff dries up imo - he loses one group of friends [to whatever I decide happens to the yogs characts post-series that week; they're probably actually fine, Martyn just thinks they're gone, or the fun option of his whole listener deal including a lack of access to the people he once knew knowing he's still alive.... hehe... angst....] only to lose another, and then end up trapped in a second set of survival (death) games?? crazy. wow. bad luck my dude...)

wait hello?? please elaborate on the green haired lalna, i never watched soi

oh sure!

In... hmmmmm one episode, The Hand? maybe? where Honeydew and Xephos head into an ancient technological ruin (implied to be a giant death robot of some ilk), they find a whole bunch of "evil" honeydew clones that have degraded to mindless violence (implied they're non-sapient, lacking the mental capacity to go beyond base instinct because of how long they've been down there multiplying ad nauseam, each clone generation worsening with nobody to maintain the mechanisms), and tonnes of broken vats. However, one single cloning vat is still working - and there's a guy inside! That guy is fully buttoned up labcoat LividCoffee, with, for some reason, green hair. It's neat :D and fascinating. Lore wise. Extremely fascinating.

I went looking for proof - it's not The Hand (that's the "finale" lol); it's Doppelgängers - for some reason those episodes merged together in my head.

I also appear to be remembering him being alive completely wrong - for a uh, given value of 'alive'. given he's a zombie! and there's two of him. Whoops? I can't actually see good TM (hi, blind here) but people kept saying their hair was green back in the day and i absorbed that information. if it's wrong, I refuse to agree with reality! green haired lalna my beloved.

Also, again, my brain clearly likes to lie flagrantly to me, because while the honeydew clones are made by broken old machinery, that's because honeydew and xephos were fucking around again <3 idiots. I wonder what happens when you stand in the goddamn cloning vat and flick the lever.... buddies..... c'mon.

Anyway - there's two zombie (green haired! I'm not delusional!) Lalna's, which is even more fascinating than my shoddy memory allowed the situation to be, because that implies YogLabs devolved to making clones of clones at some point - along with giant death robots, but they were already doing that - after the Honeydew clone had to replace his original body because Testificate Betrayal Incident, even though Xephos knows with certainty that that's been worsening the quality of the cloning process due to.... well, all the failed Honeydew clones. and the Honeydew graveyard. That he makes Honeydew clones dig up. No he's not gone mental with grief what are you talking about.

Ahem. Judging by the state of SOI!Honeydew's clones, i think it's a mix of SOI!Honeydew being a pretty late-on clone-of-a-clone himself (remember, in Yogs canon all respawns are because of YogLabs, so in SOI for them to respawn - since they can respawn, I should say - they have to be clones.... though the time loop makes me question the metaphysics of it all; do they need vats in the present if the future is the past? Existential. Too existential for me. I like to think they do have vats in the present, in the bowels of what remains of YogLabs, deep in the heart of the desert (imo, it's the source of the desert, given that one YogLabs episode where, surprise surprise, Xephos had his team invent a thing that did the sand-ening process you see in SOI; in SOI, sand is like this organism that eats everything it touches, turning it into more sand, which works with YL lore because, hey, that's what the thing they made did! Tangent. Sorry).) and the machines being super borked. Amnesiac 1st gen clone Xephos* (original Xephos is currently running around as Israphel, imo - protag Xephos is a clone of an earlier, more stable version of the man who did a lil' rebellion <3 because orig!Xeph went. Um. Megalomaniacal) obviously wouldn't know any better than to flick the lever, lol. Just noting all that as I think it corroborates the ideas about YogLabs and cloning the canon gave me. (though i clearly need to rewatch the canon, given all my minor inaccuracies add up pretty heavily towards bad meta, and I hate making bad meta :( I love meta! I have an creative writing degree!!! I don't wanna make bad meta!!!!!!!)

Anyway: Green Haired Lalna! The reason it's so fascinating to see our zombie boy duo is that this is his first and only appearance(s) in SOI; we never meet an alive Lalnable Hector or Lalna LividCoffee. This implies a lot; there's no Lal alive because all his anchor clones are dead, perhaps. Or his clones are the characters Duncan Jones portrayed, made unrecognisable by time, the time-loop amnesia, and mechanical mishaps with the cloning process so they look a lil' different - it could explain why everyone in SOI is.... Like That. (Everyone in SOI acts like a faulty clone(-of-a-clone-of-a-clone-etc); a little not all there, in some respects, and extreme caricatures of themselves besides). There's a bunch of options! All of them pretty valid, 'cause of how fast and loose YogsMC plays with its own continuity, as an improv semi-scripted series with.... plenty of unfinished storylines. More for me to mess with! As a writer i appreciate the sandbox. As an audience member I shake my fist at the sky in great torment! /joke. Am a bit miffed still, though. Over a decade later (jeez. youch. augh. I was 11, holy shit....).

I think I'll have to change what I said in the tags of the Lalnable post, though, because i was working off of bad memory for that opinion.

I still think FB!Lalnable Hector is a direct clone of anchor lalna, but i'm no longer certain either of the lalnas we see in SOI are original lalna - rather, also direct clones of anchor lalna used to created manpower for the operation of the giant death robot; why hire a 12 man crew when you can clone one from the same man at 2x speed? And as we can see in YL 2nd gen (clone-of-clone) clones aren't unstable enough for this to be a bad idea; Honeydew post-replacement may have less.... wherewithal... but he's not entirely incapacitated by clone degeneration - current YL!Honeydew may be a poor imitation friend for Xephos, but he could still pilot a death robot! So I think I'm going with: whatever war YogLabs was fighting in to warrant the death robots (we know Xephos is spending a lot of YL prepping for war with various foreign nations, so this isn't an unlikely event - in some ways he appears to be actively seeking that outcome, because he's speedrunning self-fulfilling time-loop shenanigans i guess.) got desperate enough they used cloning to bulk up manpower numbers, and in typical YL fashion they borked it by cutting corners on the mechanisms of this fact, by using sub-par machinery and clones-of-clones-of-clones, who can definitely pilot death robots but may not have the sheer brilliance of their original (lalnable hector, in this instance, being a certifiable genius, and his clones are smart, but less-and-less so due to the way YL cloning works) so they fuck up more often and thus the systems in place start failing, and lo and behold you have two zombie Lalnas in cloning vats, how did they zombify?????? How??????? What was in the genetic material sludge they were floating in for [time loop confusing the timeline; no actual idea how long it takes for All That to go down] to do that.

Anyway; now i have thoughts!!! So many of them. Thank you for the ask or I'd have gone on with my goldfish sieve memory assumptions about SOI/YL/Lalna and been worse off for it. Also, I just like canon accuracy. Being able to fuck with canon and take it to its logical extremes is what i find fun, personally. Canon complicit, i heard it called - I like that one. Not compliant. That implies bowing under pressure. No no. I'm in on the evil scheme entirely willingly. Enthusiastically, even!

Anyway: Yeah. Green Haired Lalnable Hectors / LividCoffee(s) my beloveds. I do wish one of them had been alive, because I love SOI's silly little grandfather paradox (Xephos = Israphel, and all it's horrible no good brain melting implications) interpretation, and if one of them had been alive then you could infer a second grandfather paradox - lalnable hector's clone is his original existance; wait, what? - because fucking with whatever 'original' timeline absolutely screwed and destabilized this one. And it didn't even work! Xephos, you never cease to amaze me in the many ways you can fail spectacularly at things. Pathetic main character that never wins long-term <3 Doomed by the very narrative he created! Glorious.

... this was a Lalna ask. Lol. Sorry! I never get to talk about yogsmc. I have so many thoughts.

Anyway: that's basically it, I think? Lalnas in vats; do with this what you will! Fascinating stuff, truly.

(That was not particularly well constructed, lol, but i hope it was interesting anyway!)

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

Enemies to Lover with Erwin maybe? During their cadet days they were always trying to one up eachother.

So imma make this a slow burn mini series with 5 chapters max, I'll also merge it with another request that fits perfectly with the narrative, hope you don't mind anon. There will also be Erwin pinning after Marie at the beginning but it will turn into x reader eventually.

Rivals with Erwin smith pt.1

{pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.4 | pt.5}

{ Erwin x Marie, Erwin x Reader (eventually) | tw: Enemies to lovers, tw: cursing, tw: aot spoilers | fluff, teasing | canonverse }

{"Street in Tétouan" by Eduardo Flórez Ibáñez Spanish, active 1871-1889}

You need to hurry.

Repeated the voice inside your head, as you lead the last horse back to the stables to join the other training horses, Its hooves heavy and stomping in protestion, as you attempted to lead it towards the empty hay stall.

"Please just cooperate this once" you argued as you cursed the fact you've been assigned one of the most dramatic animals to grace the inside of the walls.

And just when it seemed like it was going to stop having a tug of war with you, it lunged forward making you fall back against the ground. 

With an offended huff, it strotes inside its stall with the grace of a noble inside wall sina, the complete opposite of the wild boar that possessed it a second ago.

Not wasting another second on the petty animal, you get up to dust your white cadet uniform off, picking whatever remains of hay and carrots from your jacket. Locking the stall door, you send a death glare towards the horse that looked like it couldn't care less.

Although while you had enough common sense not to beef with an animal, you did have enough brain cells to figure out who's the one responsible for getting you assigned this dramatic prince of a horse.

The Erwin " i once helped get the stable owner's cat from a tree so now he listens to my suggestions" fucking Smitth.

But oh, you're gonna show that prick today, which reminded you again of the fact it's almost sunset and you have to hurry up.

And so you ran and ran, jumping over any pointless fences that only served to make the routes to the main square of the training corps longer.

More specifically the big board in the middle of the square, the one that all cadets pretend not to see when they walk by it.

You might have also been one of them when you first joined, to be completely transparent with yourself you really didn't think you'd ever look forward to seeing that grim too white to be normal look of the papers stamped on the board.

But things change, priorities too.

And now it just happened that yours is putting arrogant always ready to please people into their place.

Which luckily only happened to fit the description of a single local in your area.

Evading all the cadets that were hurrying to finish their end of the day tasks so they could enjoy their limited free time before it's night call, you expertly move in between each group of people without decency to not block the common walk road.

And then you see it, a noticeable empty space around it where none dares to even get close to the cursed board.

Your steps hitting the gravel become heavier as you slow down, your knees would've protested too weren't it for the early morning hikes you've been doing. 

Step by step, your eyes focus as they search the vast board for that small unimportant piece of paper that gets posted here every month.

The end of the month report card, which to reduce production costs only gets a single medium sized paper.

You find the paper by the signature of your instructor, right at the bottom of the page.

A cold breeze makes itself known, swaying the back of your jacket and drying the drops of sweat on your forehead.

Your eyes slowly trail up the paper, reading the names of your classmates, your fingers curl and uncurl themselves.

Reaching the third place, you stare at Nile's name for a bit too long, your eyeballs don't dare move an inch.

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you decide to rip the bandage off and not prolong this anymore.

Second place, in clear yet hurried written letters it reads.

Erwin Smith.

Your eyes shot to first place, landing on your own name.

…

You did it.

You actually did it, all the hard work, all the bruises from facing people twice your size in one on one training and all the late night studies paid off.

Oh thank fuck.

Glancing back to Erwin's name, you think the second place suits him way more than the first.

That's where he belongs, below you.

"A half point higher." The ever so familiar voice comes from behind, barely a whisper.

Masking your urge to jump from that scare, you sharply turn behind to make it clear that his creepy sneaking behind people strategy won't work on you. 

Your eyes meet his steel blue ones, you shrug. "Yeah and?"

Let's see which one of you out-creeps the other, because you're not backing off despite being able to smell the still fresh soap scent from him, probably had a shower not long ago.

…Did he run here from the cadet chambers? Man that's pathetic.

Erwin stares back, his natural cold expression slipping between the charming facade for a second before a big fake smile replaces it.

"And it's still progress, considering your past rankings." He says, reminding you of just how punch appealing his face looks. "You must have been working hard, so i thought you'd enjoy the first spot, for this month at least."

Is he trying to imply what you think he's trying to imply?

Oh no. Oh no no no, he doesn't get to fucking imply that he gave you that spot willingly, not when you managed to flip him on his back twice in the last physical training class.

"Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night Smith." Two can play this game, "but remember not to cry publicly next month when it's still my name above yours."

He didn't even try to hide his snort. "You really think so?"

"Oh I really really think so."

"Hmm…well that's the spirit soldier" he adds just when you thought his smile couldn't get any more fake.

In your attempt at one upping each other, both of you failed to notice the approaching footsteps.

"You think the corps square is a hangout spot now do you?" The booming voice of the current survey corps commander, Keith Shadis is loud enough to grab the attention of anyone passing by.

Which just happened to be none, with the sun setting on the horizon and the cold wind beginning to welcome the night, you realised just how empty this place got in comparison to when you arrived.

Both of you and Erwin look at each other, look back at the commander and then nonchalantly step away from each other before doing the salute.

With the rare occurrence when the survey commander happened to be visiting the training corps, you began to understand to never try and test his patience. 

Plus He already looks annoyed, better not irritate him further. 

"Our sincere apologies sir, it won't happen again" Erwin, suck up to commanders, Smith is the first to speak.

"This isn't the place to have your stupid young dates, god none of you would have hope to survive outside the walls." You listen to him finish his speech before it hits you.

"It's not a date." Both you and Erwin say at the same time with voices laced with disgust.

"Do NOT interrupt me" and you've already broken your own rule to not irritate him further, " both of you out of my face right now before i-"

"Sir yes Sir." Not letting him finish his speech, both of you just bow before hurrying off towards the closest corner turn to avoid getting into more trouble. 

You made sure to step on Erwin's foot and play it off as an accident, he winced and gripped your arm tightly in return.

"You're acting like a child, stop it." He tugged you along just to make sure the commander wasn't following behind.

Pulling your arm back, you replied " maybe if you didn't interrupt him back there, he wouldn't have been as quick to yell at us."

Quirking his eyebrow at you and your hypocrisy, he decided to just not indulge this argument anymore.

Coming to think of it, why would the commander assume it's a date? You took a good look at Erwin, which is when you actually realised he was…more neat and groomed than he usually is.

"Huh, you're all dressed up." You eyed his carefully styled hair, his neat trousers and ironed shirt. "Were you…actually going on a date? God so you are the one at fault for him yelling at us back there."

From the way he looked at you for a second before turning his face away without saying anything, you knew you hit the spot.

"So you actually had a date and yet you ran here, god that's actually…" your smug smile and amused eyes finished the sentence before you did.

Pathetic.

At least now you're 100% sure he was just as worried about you outranking him this month and didn't just give it to you like he bluffed.

"Shush it." Was all he said, eyebrows knitted with a glare to his eyes. " I wasted enough time here, I should go" 

He looked genuinely surprised at the fact he lost track of time for something so important to him.

"I see," you said with the same smug impression, "Well i don't think Marie would settle for someone who's always late but what do i know."

And that was all it took for his cheeks to flush, he opened his mouth to reply but closed it right after before stomping off.

Getting to see the collected and gentleman Erwin Smith, all frustrated and easy to read like an open book, almost gave you a higher thrill than ranking above him.

Almost, you had a victory to celebrate with your friends.

[foibles-fables]

Would have been able to stomach Talanah’s messed up quest if she had at least joined Aloy’s crew at the end? Because I suffered through it all, thinking ‘I’ll finish her quest and then she’ll help me with the Zeniths, just like old times in HZD’ and then she just… goes back to Meridian. No questions about the base and what the others are doing and can she help her Thrush, nothing. That’s the worst part for me. She doesn’t even get to stay and join the team.

That's a resounding YES from me, anon.

I mean--I can think (and have thought) of SO many reasons for Talanah to have been in the West, all of them very much aside from Exclusively Amadis. However, I've come to begrudging terms with the concept of what we were shown--but heavens NOT its writing or execution--and I'm set to move forward with what canon presented.

(This is where I could start delving into that unhinged Here's How The Birdies Can Still Win essay I'm brewing...but I'm still trying to make sure my thoughts are half-coherent and that I organize all the points I wanna hit. SOON, I promise. I know there are a few asks related to this sitting in my inbox--I promise I'm not ignoring ya! Just have shit for brains lately. A bad case of [Ragurt voice] the rot.)

Back on track!!! Yes. If her quests in HFW had culminated in her staying and joining the team and becoming part of the Base and like, having an actual ROLE to play, I certainly would've been able to stomach it a lot better.

The fact that she doesn't do/isn't granted these things is a testament to the writing and execution issues I've driven home again and again, in my Burning Blooms/Need to Know post and plenty of elsewheres. Whether her half-baked, comics-rehash, goddamn-stilted ridiculous quest line was a production problem (as I can't help but suspect) or otherwise--post-Amadis weirdness aside, this specific part (her not actually reacting to the Base, her not asking Aloy even once what's up, her not offering to stay in aid) speaks to an absolutely bonkers amount of infidelity to established character. Like, come on, y'all. That's not the Talanah we met and grew to love in Zero Dawn. I don't think I need to hammer that point home again.

If the Amadis plot line had ended up with Talanah being like "well THAT was a weird time, I'm kinda embarrassed and have a lot to think about, but I can clearly see that there's something bigger going on here and it's my duty as your friend to stand by you"--and if that had further developed and led to growth while interacting with her at the Base--I would've been a lot cooler with it. Maybe even very unambiguously happy with it. (More on that later.) But that's not what we got, and it's still utterly baffling to me.

don't get me STARTED on the fact that Talanah is the only one Aloy explicitly says she wishes would've stayed, when she spends the whole game pushing her old friends away, I'll simply just DIE

(also I think I just said the same thing differently in four paragraphs, lmao, good job being succinct and frugal with ya words, foibs)

[repo-net]

Month of Nagisa - I'm Still Me

(IT IS OCTOBER 23 AS I POST THIS. HAPPY NAGISA DAYYYY FOR 2022, HERE'S TO ANOTHER YEAR AND FOR HOPEFULLY HITTING 1000 NAGISAS IN MY ALBUM SOON)

Another 7pm evening where I sit down on a desk, a cup of ramen noodles on the side as I type at a computer for hours to search all across the internet for the notes and answers I need while I try to finish the thesis paper that got handed to me last minute.

Really, what was our professor thinking? Does he genuinely expect us to finish a four page paper before his class tomorrow morning? We're not lab rats who can pump out product after product at inhumane speeds. Not all of us, at least.

Look at me and my genius self though, complaining about how much I detest the work I've been given yet finishing it anyways. I haven't changed at all, have I? I guess some habits just never die, no matter how hard I try to put them away.

It's bizarre to think about in general... there's so many ways my life could've turned out differently. For better or for worse, really. But what can a man do about it other than just ponder of what could've gone right, and what could've gone wrong.

Yeesh, look at what's happened. I'm doing work on an ever-approaching deadline with absurd expectations. It's not as severe as it used to be, but it doesn't make me feel good either way. You're still outclassed in that department, Father. No one can touch you when it came to burdening me the way you did.

Burdens... it's safe to say I still carry far too many of them for my own good. It's not like I'm completely innocent either. I had far too many chances to do the right thing, and yet I stood idly by and let people get out of control and die. I lie awake at night thinking about whether what I did was just, and yet I remember the hollow gratification I felt when you two died.

... And I know. If there's one thing I would've wanted, it's that you would've loved me. I wanted to see you be proud of me more than anything else. But now... I feel like redemption for myself is a far-gone conclusion and isn't ever something I could really truly achieve in it's fullest capacity.

I look around me and notice the picture frame I have on my table. A group photo of me and the most important people in my life. Me, and four other kids in a classroom posing with one hand each from us forming a heart. It was childish, but we were kids back then, so why would I get mad about that?

Even if you four have wronged me at some point in my life in one way or another, I wouldn't have traded the experience and time I had with you all for anything in the world. I just wish for one of you... we could've ended on better terms. I don't mind if you hate or don't care about me, I just wish I could've had closure and told you that I think you still have a chance to turn things around.

Heh, I talk about redemption for myself a lot but you four have far more opportunities for it than I. Maybe the road'll be shaky at times, but I think you'll all get there. Doesn't matter to me if no one else believes in you, I always will. I learned with all of you that family wasn't connected by genetics nor name, but rather by bond and growth.

We all screwed up. Massively. Fought back against a world that wronged us, and innocents got hurt in the process. But there's still hope for you all... and if I'm still alive despite everything I've been through, from near-death experiences to the hell that my own blood put me through, then I might as well keep thinking there's hope for me too.

People are going to keep bringing my past up as I get older. And that's fine. I don't expect or need people to forget about what I did, or forgive me at all. I just want them to know that I'm not the same idiotic kid I was back then. The Nagisa Shingetsu that tried to repress himself for a hopeless goal is long gone, and what I am now is a Nagisa Shingetsu who's going to keep at it. Not for anyone else's expectations or satisfaction, but for myself.

I hadn't lost my heart. I just finally figured out to open up and listen to it. And that's all that matters now. I'm still me.