#zadie;music

[thirdity]

All Joni and I needed was a little attunement. Those wandering notes and bar crossings, the key changes that she now finds dull and I still hear as miraculous. Her music, her life, has always been about discontinuity. The inconsistency of identity, of personality. I should have had faith. We were always going to find each other...

Zadie Smith, "Some Notes on Attunement"

[the-al-chemist]

Zadie Taylor-Allen - Billy Elliot

It's like that there's a music playing in your ear

And I'm listening, and I'm listening, and then I disappear

And then I feel a change

Like a fire deep inside

Something bursting me wide open impossible to hide

And suddenly I'm flying, flying like a bird

Like electricity, electricity

Sparks inside of me

And I'm free, I'm free.

- Electricity -

“Can you tell us, Billy, what does it feel like when you’re dancing?” Zadie could have had her pick of the musicals, but this is the one for her. @magicallymalted, I promise I’m almost done!

[offdutyenglishteacher]

Third times a charm…I finally found a Zadie Smith I like. I didn’t want to put it down, but I’ll also be thinking about it a while. It’s the kind of book I wanted to flip back to the beginning & start reading for understanding.

[h0mocodes]

H 0 M O C O D E S 🌙

I figured I would talk a little about my life experiences beyond the spam posting of gifs ✨There is person with a story to tell 😭

My name is Dhyrek Grigorieva. Most just call me Derek. My partner thinks it's funny to mispronounce my name or call me comrade Zady 🤨 I'm 45 years old and I work as an administrator for CMS/SSA at a local hospital. I enjoy cookery (more specifically paleo/keto based), weightlifting & writing. I actually have four novels I am working on 😊

A lesser Evil which was a novel length witcher fan fic that I have removed all the copywritten stuff from & did a complete re-write.

Halycon is a classic cyberpunk series.

Quillington is a male queer Lovecraftian horror romance. It is written exclusively in Polari which was an English Pidgeon language used by gay men in Victorian/Edwardian period.

The Abysmal Horncall is Dracula but from the perfective of Draculas' wives.

I am also a musician. I make sample based lofi/cloud rap/vaporbient or drone noise music under the name h0mocides.

Music | h0mocides (bandcamp.com)

I'm creative but can also be very a bit standoffish with most people. I'm in decent shape; Average-height with olive skin, naturally dark auburn hair but the light makes it look darker with blue-gray eyes. I'm Serbian, well, to be specific my mother's side of the family are Bosnian and Balkan Jews who settled in Serbia. My father's family were from Hungary that came to work the molybdenum mines in Serbia. My extended family are Sicilian, Turkish and Hawaiian but I never met them. I grew up in a working-class neighborhood. I was raised by my mother; my father having left when I was young. I had a brother who killed himself about 2 decades ago. I have one stepbrother and two stepsisters; The sisters I have met twice. I feel like that was enough 🙄 My stepbrother is pedophile that made me sexual advances towards me, and I feel to some degree is a reason why I struggle with internalized homophobia. My stepfather...How do I describe him:

Well, insane but there's a bit more there to pick apart...

He believes in the great replacement theory

He believes that Jews are at the center of controlling the world bank (he doesn't see us as Jews because we don't present as he puts it 'New Yorker Jews')

He believes that America should not be a democracy but rather a Libertarian based theocracy

He believes in a strange Venn diagram where non heterosexual sex/gender meets with pedophilia and bestiality.

He supports project 25 and says there is no place in the modern age for faggots, embryo murders or California styled Bolsheviks.

He believes that the president is representative of God's will and no other religion than Jesus has a place in this great country.

So, simply put we don't see eye-to-eye. When my stepbrother was convicted of child sexual assault, he went off the deep end and then Trump appeared. I should note had it not been for a blood clot we later found out from text messages he fully planed on going to the J-6 rally to 'save America.' Won't shock you but he also is fatphobic and racist. The aforementioned was something he used to bully me about a lot which is why I yo-yo in-between BED and AFRID.

When I was 14 years old, we left Serbia because of the Bosnian War. Lived in Germany and the UK for a year. I loved living in the UK, but our solicitors fucked up and we were shipped to Canada but sadly they were over capacity for immigrants, and we were sent to Anchorage, Alaska while our claim was processed. We got citizenship and lived in Isla Vista, California, Yuma, Arizona and later Aurora, Colorado. That's where the rest of my mother's family is and I will post about it another time, but for obvious reasons I have nothing to do with them. My mother met her husband, and his family was from Tennessee; I lived here from 17-25 and then left for New York after series of bad events; Friends overdosing, physical abuse from my stepfather, etc. So, before the pandemic I was living in Floral Park, NY. I won't lie I was doing sex work, DJing and Mobile Messenger Service (those are the guys on bikes delivering documents to corps in NY). Then my mom got very sick. My lease was up so I decided to move back home briefly to take care of her. The intent was to move back to NY or CA but it didn't pan out that way. I actually almost moved to CA but that too is a post for another time. We found out what she had would later be called Covid related Tapia syndrome and Covid induced AFIB.

Within 5 days of arriving New York was shut down; I was rather lucky. I lived there from DEC 2019-MAR 2023. Sadly, my step and I had been on a long slow burn over issues with me accusing him of stealing money from my savings, creating credit cards in my name, stealing and destroying my personal effects and his issues with my religion (Rodnovery, or Slavic Native Faith), my clothing (apparently it looked 'too gay') and how I was flaunting the faggot shit. I will not make this already long ass entry long but just summarize. He attacked me and tried to kill me. Police were involved and watched until I safely got my stuff. My mother was beyond traumatized but I needed to leave for my safety, and I didn't want the stress to further impact her health. From March until August I was completely homeless without work or money living out of my SUV (mom was paying for it and buying me food secretly) under a bridge. I was talking to my new life partner, and I ran into my ex-boyfriend, Cory, who had me move in with him. Shortly later, Stephen and I went from boyfriends to partners and were in a position to move in together. I will say I love with living with him (despite the differences in our daily routines and our approach existing) but Christ on a stick I 🤬 hate Preakness apartments with unbridled passion lol 😖It has been interesting for two in love gay boys, one autistic with C-PTSD and the other with ADDHD moving in together building a life.

Sadly, the experiences of seeing murders, rapes, drug culture and gang violence along with my experiences throughout my life had a deeper impact that I realized. It was during that time I lived off of credit cards and recently the creditors have become particularly aggressive with litigation, but I am lucky that most have been charged off and I'm now with CCCS of Chattanooga which is helping me get back on track. I am pending 2 accounts to be added, on Oct. 4th I am going to court to see if one can be forgiven and 1 is with another agency so I am honestly making an attempt to fix my life and now that I am with a brilliant and loving man I feel hopeful but at the same time living in this Trump age is making us both consider our options. Japan, Scotland or Canada is on our short lists and we're going to Japan from Oct. 25th-Nov 15th so it's definitely a possibly. What a strange age to live in. Also, we're going to move out of Antioch in March as I literally hate this city 🖕 We have a few tours set up with nearby complexes at Tusculum, Stewart Ferry, Piccadilly and Heron Pointe.

Anyways, here's a survey to get to know me 💀❤️

Hobbies - I like Papier-mâché, Candle making and Walking

Have you ever collected anything? What was it? Yes, I collect enamel/button pins, vinyl stickers, vinyl's/cassette's.

How many relationships have you been in? 6-8, I think.

Turn ons - Confidence, Needing Me, Trust, independence

Turn offs - Ego, being the 'bitchy gay'

Favorite food - Riced Cauliflower Onigiri and ika sashimi

Favorite drink - Macha Latte and Water

Are you optimistic or pessimistic? Neither... I ama realist.

What is the most expensive thing you own? PS5, Gucci Shoes and SUV.

What is the cheapest yet most useful thing you own? knock off Plushes from China and maybe...my Tamagotchi lol

Text or call? Text...call if it is an emergency or our first time talking.

What is your definition of success? Being happy. Periodt.

Favorite song? VØJ, Narvent, KoruSe - Euphoria

Favorite artist? Yoshitaka Amano

Favorite flower? Chrysanthemums, Mushrooms & Ghost Flowers

What is the best gift you could receive right now? A kiss from Stephen

Do you like anime? Yes, but only 80s/90s magical girl, horror and cyberpunk. I absolutely hate harem, Isekai and mecha.

What was the name of the last book you read? Vampire Hunter D Volume 29: Noble Front

Do you believe world peace will ever exist? No, conflict and dominance is part of the human condition unfortunately.

Do you have any allergies? Onions, Dairy and gluten.

If you won a trip to Hawaii and you could take 5 people with you, who would those 5 people be? Stephen, Toby, My mom, Stephen's mom and best friend, Bree!

How many countries have you visited? 10 (Japan, South Korea, China, Iceland, Germany, UK, Canada, USA, Russia and Italy)

Do you consider yourself mature? LOL....No.

What is your favorite quote? “Transient guests are we.” ― Hideyuki Kikuchi

If you could live anywhere, where would you live? The place can be in an imaginary, fantasy, or the real world. If mythical I would love to live in Shangri-La, Toussaint from the witcher or maybe Night City from Cyberpunk 2077. IRL - maybe France or Portugal.

What were you like in 2013? A junkie. A Miss. I don't miss her.

If you could change one thing about society, what would it be? Get rid of all this MAGA bullshit.

Are you LGBT? Yes, Gay/Top.

What is the funniest joke you have ever been told? How does Darth Vader like his bagels? On the dark side.

What is your favorite animal? Narwhals, Cats and Goats.

What is one thing that everyone is bad at? Remembering shit.

What time do you normally sleep? How many hours of sleep do you usually get? 9-10. Maybe 6-7.

What is your favorite clothing store? Vapor95 and Incerun.

If you had the power to erase one person from the world so that nobody remembered him or her except you, would you, do it? First, it would be Donald Trump and hell yes, I would.

What do you fear the most? Losing Stephen. He's my heart.

If you could travel back to one year and relive it again, which year would it be? 2009. Would've kept clean and dumped Michael. He ruined so much for me.

What is the weirdest thing you have ever seen? RNC causing Grindr to crash lol.

What is something you will never forget? Grace and Compassion.

Is it harder to love or to hate somebody? I will say this quote ....Doug, you think killing is hard, huh? You wait in the bushes, the animal might outrun you or charge you. It's not easy to get your shot, hm? Try healing something. That is hard. That requires patience. You can break something in two seconds. But it can take forever to fix it. A lifetime, generations. That's why we have to be careful on this earth and gentle.

Coffee or tea? Both. Honestly.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Snake Eyes 5

Warnings: noncon, coercion, manipulation. Proceed with caution.

Note: thanks all for reading and I hope you’re excited for this one. All feedback is more than welcome and loved and appreciated. Reblogs are most helpful.

Part of The Club AU

The service industry is less than formal. There’s not much red tape in the hiring process and less administrative restraints. So, after a short video interview with Sif, you accept a job for the weekend. It’s not entirely your choice of venue, a yacht, but the pay even before gratuity is enough to convince you.

More peculiar about the job is that it’s not a single night. You’re slated to work through the weekend at breakfast, lunch and dinner. It beats handing out shots to tipsy coeds; these wealthy investors will have deeper pockets.

So much for being destitute all at the whim of that snake. It’s the nature of the business. Gigs don’t last long and when they do, you’re miserable. If it was up to you, you’d be working at one of the upscale cocktail bars in the downtown core but they rarely open up applications.

You pack a bag and take your time getting ready. There’s a dress code of course. All black, no pants. You know these sorts of events. They only hire women and their purpose is more than serving, they have to be nice to look at. Well, you can doll yourself up.

You put on a sleek halter blouses with a leather skirt. You’ll sweat your ass off but it’s what you got. You have just enough outfits to last you through two days. Oh, and some anti-nausea meds to counteract the sea sickness.

The job will reimburse you for the cost of the uber. You don’t think you’ve ever been to the dock. You weren’t a part of the college crowd with their party boats and aren’t generally a fan of being on the water. You tip the driver on your phone as you get out and look around.

There are two other girls in black hovering around. You approach them, assuming they're in the same boat as you. The pun barely worth thinking. 

“Hey, um, are you meeting Sif?” You ask.

“You must be the new girl,” they look at you with their drawn on brows, “Tara,” the tall redhead introduces herself.

“Zadie,” the shorter woman with the spiral curls flicks her lashes derisively.

You offer your name in return, sensing their coolness. They’ve worked together a while, that means you’re the rookie, you have to prove yourself. That isn’t difficult, you have faith in your own skills.

“You’re pretty,” Tara preens, “love the gloss.”

“Thanks,” you accept the compliment.

“I could never pull that shade off,” she continues, “very harsh.”

You nod and force a smile. You’re sure that is only the beginning of your act. You shoulder your bag and turn on your heel listlessly. You’re not here to make friends.

“Girls,” Sif’s heels draw your attention as they click across the dock, “thank you for waiting. The captain was a bit late with his safety review. Ugh, so we have to hurry with set up. The investors will be arriving shortly. Can’t have you standing out here like a bunch of stray cats.”

“What happened to Katie?” Zadie asks as she steps forward first.

“She’s at her sister’s wedding,” Sif returns smoothly, “don’t worry, she’s vetted and very capable,” the dark haired woman gives you an appraising look, “you might learn a few things, Zee.”

Zadie rolls her eyes and Tara grins over her shoulder, trying to hide her amusement. You shrug and follow them towards the boarding ramp. Right, just don’t think about the water.

🍸

The boat is a flurry. After you are shown your cramped cabin, leaving your bag on the bed, you are taken to the gala deck. There, you are acquainted with the bar and set to your prep. The familiarity of the work welcomes you in and your nerves calm even as the subtle swell of the water rocks the ship.

As you work in tandem with the other girls, the lights adjust and music begins to waft around the space. You look out at the tables, set and ready for diners. It seems a rather overdone event. You’re not sure if you had yacht money, you would waste it on these pompous displays. Maybe that’s why you don’t have any money.

The first investors begin to trickle in. You hear Sif’s voice rise above the building din as she beckons them in and shows them their seats. Some sort of auction for charity. Funny, how these things are always fundraisers…

As the crowd burgeons in, the first patrons of the night come by the bar. Tara elbows past you to take the lead. You let her. You know her type. They approach the job like a competition. No use playing that game.

“Miss, a drink,” you hear from your left. You turn to greet the man, his silty tone only registering once you face him. Loki smirks as he drapes his arm over the trim, “I believe you know my preference.”

You withhold a scowl. You don’t know how to respond. You can’t scream at him so you turn and begin to put together a dry martini. You feel him watching you. Of course, he’s one of them.

“Mr. Laufeyson,” Zadie comes up behind you, “nice to see you.”

“You too,” he says silkily.

“Hon, why don’t you let me take over for Mr. Laufeyson?” She offers as she touches your arm.

“She’s got it,” he shoos her with his fingers.

You present him the tall glass and meet his eye. He watches you with that imperious gloating grin. He reaches for it, sliding it closer with two fingers around the stem.

“Now I should be suitably bolstered to face my guests,” he declares. You squint at him, his guests? “Darling, should you require anything, you know you only need ask. I do take pride in accommodating my staff well.”

You blink, lips sealed and tight. His eyes rove up and down as he lifts his martini, “cheers.” He takes a sip and winks, before spinning on his heel and strutting off. You should’ve known it was all too easy.

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

My 2024 TBR List So Far

I only read nine books in 2023 😭 compared to 51 in ‘22 and 63 in ‘21 I have fallen. I beg of you, my tumblr fam, please hold me accountable.

Does anybody have recommendations for books I should read in 2024? I try to read mostly books by female-identifying & BIPOC authors, and I am making it a goal this year to read more books by LGBTQ+ authors with a specific emphasis on trans authors. I enjoy magical realism & historical fiction (not sci-fi) and some of my favorite authors are Zadie Smith, Isabel Allende, Gabriel García Márquez, Brit Bennet, Susan Abulhawa, Yaa Gyasi. I also enjoy non-fiction like Joan Didion and Ross Gay’s essays, Samir’s Habib’s memoir about growing up queer in a Muslim family, Qian Julie Wang’s Beautiful Country destroyed me and I always love a good music memoir!

Tagging a few folks below the cut who I think have similar tastes to me, but I will take recommendations from anybody please!!!

Please help @welcometololaland (I know you share my love for GGM!), @never-blooms @ladytessa74 @chicgeekgirl89 @freneticfloetry @alrightbuckaroo @basilsunrise (music book recs?) @carlos-in-glasses (essays? Poetry that won’t put me to sleep 😂) @guardian-angle22 (my dog, I know you’ve got some recs for me), @lightningboltreader (some beach reads?), @liminalmemories21 (historical fiction?) @orchidscript (historical fiction??) @paperstorm (HISTORICAL FICTION???) @thisbuildinghasfeelings @tailoredshirt @theghostofashton (did I see you read like 50 books this year?) @carlos-tk (👀)

[liriostigre]

Hiiii ty for such a great uquiz!! Would it be possible to see the description of all the books you could get matched to? I’m curious what the vibes are for the rest!!

hi 🌷 here you go:

White Teeth by Zadie Smith: Excessive, maximalist and very ambitious multigenerational and multicultural epic novel that starts with the unlikely friendship between Archie Jones and Samad Iqbal. It explores themes of race, identity and the intersections of culture, heritage, and modernity. Clever and hilarious dialogue, very creative when it comes to language and style, unique and bold when it comes to narrative. Perhaps a flawed novel due to its ambition, but excellent nonetheless.

Despair by Vladimir Nabokov: Excellent writing; very ambitious and stylish. It is somewhat a twisted novel but you will find a lot of humor despite. The narrator speaks directly to the reader as he writes what he regards as his perfect crime. This novel is one of Nabokov's earliest works in which one can easily identify themes and literary devices that the author explored later in his most known works.

The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño: Brilliant and stunning novel about poets and poetry! Very dense and challenging; it requires patience from the reader. This novel is so infinitely dear to me that i can't even explain its brilliance, but i have to give you at least an idea of the plot so: The story is arranged in three parts and told from multiple points of view. It starts in Mexico City, in the 70s, and continues across decades and continents. It follows the adventures and misadventures of Arturo Belano and Ulises Lima—poets, drug dealers, wanderes, criminals. Now, about the themes, the writing, the style, the narration? Just absolutely perfect even at its most tedious, difficult and anticlimactic parts.

The Hearing Trumpet by Leonora Carrington: Unconventional, absurd, imaginative and exuberantly surreal apocalyptic fairytale quest. It follows 92 year old Marian who is sent off to a peculiar old-age home. If you aren't familiar with Leanora Carrington's art you should look at some of her paintings because this wonderful novel feels just like her surrealist paintings!

Mrs. Caliban by Rachel Ingalls: This novella tells the story of a love affair between a depressed suburban housewife and an amphibian creature who escaped a scientific research center. It might sound like a quirky fiction story but it actually deals with the most mundane and banal aspects of life and human relationships. Brilliantly written; neat and precise prose, wonderful storytelling. The author knew what she was doing and not a single word she wrote was wasted.

The Borrowers by Mary Norton: Delicately written little adventure about tiny people who live in the secret places of houses. I am enamored (obsessed!!) with miniatures—dollhouses, dioramas, fairies—so imagine how dear this book is to me.

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn: The murders of two girls bring reporter Camille Preaker back to her hometown. As she works to uncover the truth about those crimes, Camille finds herself forced to unravel the psychological puzzle of her own past. Very entertaining read. It has best seller written all over it (which might not be the biggest compliment lol but i mean for this genre so it is a compliment).

Rage by Sergio Bizzio: Claustrophobic, anxiety inducing, fast-paced psychological thriller that made me think of Bong Joon-ho's Parasite the whole 4 hours it took me to read it. I read it in it's original language, Spanish, and i particularly loved the dialogue; its idiosyncrasies and authenticity (tqm Argentina!)

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby: Rob, an obsessive music fan, reminisces his top five worst break ups to understand his most recent heartbreak. He is a very arrogant and cynical guy who defines his entire life through records, and because he is constantly interacting with music that almost exclusively deals with love—and a very idealistic version of it—he finds himself unsatisfied with the way his life has turned out.

[spine-buster]

So High School ft. Adam Cole | Chapter 3

Because he sat on the outside seat, Austin was always delegated to the right earphone, and because she sat on the window seat, Violet was always delegated to the left earphone.  It became a habit for her to just hand him an earphone the moment he sat beside her on the bus.  Likewise, it became a habit for him to begin asking more about her, or her day, or what sorts of things she was studying at St. Anne’s that were different than what he was studying at Lancaster West.  They’d talk about their other interests – hers: student council, the author Zadie Smith, Seventeen magazine, and the TV show The O.C; his: the Lancaster West wrestling team, hanging out with his friends, Rolling Stone magazine, and the TV show One Tree Hill.  Violet promised to start watching One Tree Hill, and Austin The O.C.

Austin was excited to learn new things about Violet.  He noticed himself looking forward to getting on the bus now and spending that time with her in the mornings and afternoons.  He began to notice just how confident her voice and demeanour was.  He noticed the freckles that dotted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.  He began to stop and look back at her before entering the front doors or Lancaster West High.

Violet was excited to learn new things about Austin.  She noticed herself looking forward to seeing him get on the bus and spending time with him in the mornings and afternoons.  She began to notice just how articulate and dynamic he was.  She noticed the crinkle of his eyes whenever he’d smile or laugh at something she said.  She began to wave to him slightly when he stopped and looked back at her before entering the front doors of Lancaster West High. 

Despite how much they were opening up to one another, Violet always felt Austin was holding something back.

***

Violet was giddy as she walked with her girlfriends towards Julia Steinbreaker’s house for her birthday.  She told her parents her birthday party would be on the main floor while her parents were up in their bedroom, but Mr. and Mrs. Steinbreaker’s parents were really in Florida for the weekend.  She had a curfew of midnight.  Julia’s brother was a senior at St. Augustine College and some of his friends would be there, too.  It was going to be the best.

When she and her friends walked in the house, they were greeted with loud music and a bunch of their friends and acquaintances.  Word must have gotten around – that, or Julia’s brother told a lot more of his friends than Violet though, and those friends told their friends.  Some other girls from St. Anne’s were there, and there were others she knew attended Lancaster West and other public schools in the city.  She and her friends walked into the kitchen, already eyeing some of the boys.  She grabbed a Diet Coke and cracked it open.  Her friend Beth grabbed her hand and led her through the house to the family room where she spotted Julia’s older brother hanging out with his lacrosse team buddies.

And then she saw Austin.

Violet stopped dead in her tracks when she did.  Beth almost dragged her but stopped when she noticed her staring at someone.  “Austin?”

He didn’t see her at first.  But when he did, his face was just as shocked as hers.  “Violet?”

“Hey!” she exclaimed, letting go of Beth’s hand to approach him and hug him.  Well, this was new.  This was the first time they had acknowledged each other outside of the bus.  They couldn’t even do this in a grocery store with their mothers present just a few weeks ago.  Austin hugged her back, trying not to smile too much and lose his cool.  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“My buddy Travis is friends with Julia’s brother from their soccer team or something, so a couple of my buddies and I came,” he explained.  “Julia – St. Anne’s, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Violet nodded her head, trying not to feel too overwhelmed.  He existed outside of the bus.  He was real.  “What a small world, eh?”

“That’s the Toronto poking through, isn’t it?” he quipped.

“Who’s this?”

Austin and Violet whipped their heads towards Beth, who was looking between them with raised eyebrows.  “Beth, this is my friend Austin,” Violet said.  She couldn’t believe she’d just said those words out loud to another person.  My friend Austin.  “He goes to Lancaster West.  We take the bus into the city together.”

“Hello, Austin who goes to Lancaster West,” Beth smiled wryly.  She looked back at Violet.  “You didn’t tell me you had friends at Lancaster West.”

Violet watched as Austin’s smile dropped a little at the way she said Lancaster West.  Like the school was riffraff.  Like it was beneath them to have friends there when it most certainly wasn’t.  “Well I do,” she said.  “We’ve been taking the bus together for forever.”

Beth’s eyebrows rose.  Before she could respond, a boy yelled her name and presented himself in front of them, to which Beth jumped into him excitedly to hug him.  Violet and Austin gave each other a quick glance.  Beth soon focused her attention back on Violet.  “Violet, this is Carson, the guy I was telling you about.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“What are you drinking?” he asked.

“Just a Diet Coke.”

“You’ll definitely want some rum with that,” he smiled.  “Are you a Malibu or Morgan girl?”

“No no, no rum for me,” she shook her head.  She’d had alcohol before, but in the presence of her parents.  They’d ship her off to a convent if she got home and they smelled rum on her breath, especially considering she had lied to them to come to the party in the first place.

“Oh come on, I know you St. Anne’s girls love to party,” he pushed.  “Nobody’s gonna tell Jesus, I swear.”

“I’m alright with my Diet Coke, really.”

“Think of it as unholy water.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I could even pour it right into your mouth—”

“—She said no,” Austin piped up.  Everybody involved in the interaction looked at him.  “Just leave it.”

“Whatever,” Carson rolled his eyes, putting his arm around Beth’s shoulders.  “You want some vodka?”

“Yes please.”

Beth left with Carson, leaving Violet and Austin alone with one another.  She bit her bottom lip before meeting his eyes.  “Thanks Austin.”

“No problem,” he said.  “I hope you came with other friends besides her.”

Thankfully, she did, and before long she was able to introduce Harper and Abigail to Austin, who were much more friendly than Beth had been.  Austin even introduced them all to the friends he came with, and soon they were all talking and having fun together.  Austin went to the kitchen to get Violet another Diet Coke, and when he came back, she saw he hadn’t opened it.  She smiled to herself.

The house got more crowded – people from Lancaster West, who Austin said hi and spoke to, and some more girls from St. Anne’s.  There was a boy from St. Augustine College’s student council that Violet knew and had a crush on, so tried flirting with him to no avail.  Harper and Abigail paired off with some boys they met.  Some rowdy boys started a drinking game, which encouraged so many others to be obnoxious.  Soon enough, with Harper and Abigail paired off, Violet found herself alone, so she went back into the kitchen to get another Diet Coke.  There, some boys in Lancaster West soccer t-shirts began talking to her.  She was polite and engaged in the conversation, but she really wanted to find Harper or Abigail.

“How about I get you something to mix with that Coke,” the taller one said, grabbing the mickey of vodka he’d brought to the party from the pocket in his jeans.

“Oh no, that’s okay.  I’m not drinking.”

The guy chuckled, glancing at his friend.  “Of course not.  Come on girl, you need to loosen up.”

“I’m perfectly fine, thanks.”

“You know, you’d be hotter if you weren’t so stuck up.”

Violet immediately went red.  “What?”

“You St. Anne’s girls are all the same.  Stuck up daddy’s little rich girls.  Maybe if you took off your fucking chastity belt you’d be better.”

Violet was speechless, her jaw gaping open from not knowing what to say.  With her cheeks already red and her eyes already watering at just how rude the boys were being, she tried to think of something, but couldn’t.  Her emotions were getting the best of her.  Her embarrassment was getting the best of her. 

“Quit being such fucking assholes and leave her alone,” she suddenly heard Austin’s voice from behind her.  She couldn’t even spin around to look him in the face, instead waiting until he appeared at her side.

The boys suddenly seemed more nervous than before.  “Au—Austin—”

“Fuck off,” he warned, scaring them enough that they left the kitchen.  He looked her in the eye, noticing the redness in her cheeks.  “Are you okay?”

Violet felt so embarrassed.  She gripped on to her Diet Coke before backing up to lean against the counter, averting Austin’s eyes.  “I’m fine,” she told him unconvincingly.  “I—I lost all my friends.  They’re all off drinking or with boys.”

Austin saw her body language, saw how defeated she looked, and most of all, how she looked like she was on the verge of tears.  “Hey, this party kinda blows anyway,” he said, getting slightly closer to her.  Want to go somewhere else?”

She finally looked up to meet his eyes.  She’d never been more grateful than in that moment.  “Yes please.”

He nodded once.  “Meet me at the door.  I’ll grab your jacket.”

Violet did as she was told, going to put on her shoes.  Austin appeared with her jean jacket and they left the house inconspicuously.  It was already dark out, but not late – she still had at least two hours to go until curfew.  Austin watched Violet carefully, making sure she was okay, and that she wouldn’t burst into tears at any given moment.  Clearly those guys had struck a nerve.  Once they walked down the driveway and to the sidewalk, he noticed that a few tears had escaped, the wiping of her nose a tell-tale sign, too.  He hated seeing her so emotional about stupid comments some stupid boys made.  “You want to go to Francesco’s?” he asked suddenly, before his mind even realized what he was doing.

“You…you mean the pizza place?”

He nodded.  “There’s no reason those assholes should ruin your night,” he offered.

She nodded shyly, and they began walking down the sidewalk side by side.  After only a few strides, though, she stopped dead in her tracks.  He looked back at her to see what was wrong.  “You don’t think I’m stuck up, do you?” she asked.

“No, I don’t,” Austin’s voice was gentle.  There was a moment of silence where they just stared into each other’s eyes.  Austin hoped she believed him, because he really meant it.  “I think you’re the furthest thing from stuck up.”

Violet nodded, resolved, and began walking again along with him.  They were quiet as they made their way towards Francesco’s, and it was Austin who took the reins once they walked in anyway.  He walked them over to a booth where they sat opposite each other and ordered them both a slice of pizza and a root beer float.  Violet noticed some of the other patrons in the restaurant – a few older couples, probably out on date nights; a big group of high school seniors who were lively but not loud or causing a scene; other local kids in and around their age minding their own business.  She wondered what she looked like to them.

“Can I say something?” Austin asked suddenly.  She didn’t see it because she was people watching and in her own head, but he had been staring at Violet the entire time.  She nodded.  “I think you’re way too smart and way too cool to let what those guys said make you feel this way.”

She cracked a smile for the first time in what felt like a while.  “Thanks Austin.”

“And no offence,” he continued, “Harper and Abigail seem fine, but that Beth girl is a piece of work.”

“Yeah.  I know.  You don’t know the half of it,” she said.  “We became friends in our freshman year because we were in the same math class, but we’ve been growing apart, especially this year,” Violet explained.  “She’s just been…changing.  I mean we both have.  But we’re going in the opposite direction, and I don’t know how far we can stretch before it snaps, you know?”

“It doesn’t seem like you’re anything like each other.  I try to give everybody a chance, but the second she opened her mouth I didn’t get a good vibe from her.”

Violet was silent.  She knew exactly what he was referencing – the Lancaster West comment.  “I know, I know.  I didn’t—I didn’t like that comment she made.  I thought it was really awful of her to say it the way she did.”

“If anybody should be called stuck up, it’s her.”

Violet smiled again.  Their waitress brought them their pizza and root beer floats and Austin automatically took a sip out of his.  They spoke about their friends and other people at the party, giving each other notes.  Who to avoid.  Who was alright.  Everybody knew the teenage years were a minefield for social interaction, so it was nice to get advice from someone else.  The taste of the pizza perked up Violet, and soon she and Austin were laughing together again.  Conversations about friends turned into conversations about school and teachers, and conversations about school and teachers turned into conversations about parents.

“Are your parents already talking about university like my parents are?” Violet asked.

Austin shrugged.  “We’ve talked about it, but they’re not pushing it down my throat or anything just yet.  Are yours?”

Violet nodded her head.  “When your dad’s a university professor it’s kind of inevitable.  I mean, when both your parents are as educated as my parents are, it’s kind of inevitable,” she said.

“Do they want you to go to UPenn?”

“It’s the easiest because we would get discounted tuition.  But my top choices are UPenn, Georgetown, and Boston University, though I’m probably gonna apply to so many more,” she explained.  “They have the best programs for what I want to study.”

“Which is?”

“I want to go into speech language therapy like my mom,” she said, which made Austin smile.  “What about you?  Have you thought about universities or what you want to study?”

Austin stayed silent for a bit.  “I uh—well, I kind of like history, so I was thinking of that, but I don’t—I don’t know if I like it enough to want to pursue it so seriously, you know?���

He was nervous.  What was he nervous about?  This was a normal conversation between two normal teenagers – surely it wasn’t making him so nervous he couldn’t form a coherent sentence?  She tried to ignore it.  “What about universities?”

“Well, places like what you said are kind of, like, unattainable for me.  Marks wise but also money-wise.  I mean, anywhere I end up going, I’ll, uh, have to take out student loans.  Not looking forward to those.”

It was so clear to her now.  She didn’t want to pry, but they were friends now, and she wanted to get to the bottom of it.  She didn’t want Austin to lie to her.  “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

Austin looked her in the eye before taking a deep breath.  He needed to get it out of the way now, before their friendship went any further.  It wasn’t exactly an out for her, but she needed to know because it was what motivated him – everything he did was to reach this goal.  He’d rather the judgement come now.  “I want to get into pro wrestling,” he said finally, letting the words linger.

Violet was unsure what he meant at first.  “You mean, like, the Olympic wrestling team?” she asked, knowing he was on the amateur wrestling team at Lancaster West.

“No,” he shook his head.  “Pro wrestling—like WWE.  Wrestling on TV.  It’s—it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I was nine years old.”

Austin watched Violet’s face carefully.  He watched and waited for confusion, or a brow furrow, or a scowl at the idea of becoming a pro-wrestler instead of going to university.  It wasn’t exactly a normal career choice, and it definitely wasn’t one a high achiever such as Violet or a parent would approve of – his own mother didn’t.  But instead of confusion or a scowl, he watched as Violet’s face came to a realization with a twinkle in her eye.  A giant smile overtook her face.  “Austin…” she began, almost speechless.  “That is so cool.”

It was now him who was confused with a brow furrow.  “Really?”

“Are you kidding?  Of course,” she assured him.  “All everybody else around me can talk about is AP grades and SAT scores for their programs.  That is so different than what everybody around me wants to do, and it’s so cool that you’re so passionate about something that’s so unique that you want to pursue it like you do,” she said, and she meant it whole-heatedly.  She hadn’t quite met anybody like Austin before, and she was so glad he helped her on the bus that day.

“You think so?” Austin asked.

She nodded enthusiastically.  “I think you’d be really good at it.  You’re a very articulate speaker.  I don’t know much about wrestling but I think that’s part of it.  What’s your plan to do it?”

She listened intently as Austin spoke enthusiastically about what he had to do to achieve his dream.  He had very clearly researched every minute detail beforehand and knew the steps to get there.  The wrestling foundation, which is why he joined the wrestling team; the training at a school in a city near them like Philadelphia or Pittsburgh or even Washington D.C.; making a name for himself on what he called “the indies” before a big company like WWE signed him.  His explanation was detailed and meticulous.  The more he told her, the more she envisioned it for him, the more she wanted it for him, too. 

Austin spoke so much and for so long, long after their pizza slices and root beer floats were finished, long after most of the other patrons left Francesco’s and it was just them in their own little world.  They paid and left, and it was only then, walking out into the briskness of the night that Austin realized how late it was.  He looked at his watch and it read 11:40.  His curfew was midnight.  Neither of them wanted to leave.

“I’ll walk you home,” Austin offered without having to be asked.  There was no way he was going to let her walk home alone at this hour of the night anyway.

“Aren’t you—isn’t your curfew midnight, too?”

“I—yeah—but it’s okay—”

“—Hold on,” she said, reaching into her Coach wristlet.  She pulled out her cell phone.  He had completely forgotten she had one of those Blackberry Pearl cell phones.  Just like her iPod, he was shocked to see it.  There was such a different between them.  “What’s your home phone number?”

He told her, and she dialled it.  He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t know why.  His gut trusted her already.  “Hi, Mrs. Jenkins?  My name is Violet Schwarzkopf, I’m one of Austin’s friends,” she began to say in a very, very polite voice.  “Um, my friends all ditched me at the party and Austin offered to walk me home, but I live on Mulberry Street and I know he has a curfew and—and—I was just hoping he won’t get in trouble for being home a bit late.  I don’t want to walk home alone this late at night.”

Austin almost laughed, but settled on a shit-eating grin.  He didn’t want his mom hearing him laughing and getting any ideas.  “Thank you so much Mrs. Jenkins.  I promise this won’t happen again for Austin.  I’m sorry for calling so late.  Goodnight.”

Austin continued smiling at her and she put her phone back in her wristlet.  “You’re like the mom whisperer.  I need you to talk to her all the time.”

Violet chuckled.  “Let’s go.  My parents aren’t as nice.”

They reached her house on Mulberry Street in just about fifteen minutes, with a comfortable five minutes to spare.  Austin knew he shouldn’t have been shocked at the size or the grandeur of it, but he still was.  As one of Manheim’s few historic streets, almost all of the houses were like this.  But Violet’s was even more so, and the front garden was meticulously maintained, too.  Standing on her front porch, they looked at each other.  “Thank you for making this night so much better than it started,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

She moved to stick her key in the door, and was about to walk in, but hesitated before turning back to face him.  “I meant what I said at Francesco’s.  I think you’d be amazing at pro-wrestling.  I wasn’t just saying that.  Everything you told me just sounds so cool and I’m, like, rooting for you, you know?  Especially if that’s your dream.”

He smiled, practically blushing.  “Thanks, Vi.”

She then did something that he wasn’t expecting: she reached in and hugged him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders tightly.  He hugged her back before she pulled away.  “Goodnight Austin.”

“G’night, Vi.  I’ll see you on Monday.”

She opened the door and he got a quick, dimly lit glance at the interior of her house – its hardwood floors and big front mirror and fancy lamp that was lit on a fancy entryway console.  So different to his grandma’s house, which didn’t exactly have any fancy lamps or entryway consoles.  He turned away once he heard the door lock, walking down the driveway before looking up at the house one last time before deciding to run home.

He could use the cardio.

[windslar]

Lightflower ( prev / next )

Transcript

[Zadie's inner monologue]: The only lyrics that spill out of me are filled with sadness and anger. Teenagers and prom and how heteronormative expectations ruin everything. What a coming-of-age gay cliche. It feels dramatic to call it a betrayal but it’s the closest thing that’s captured the way I felt when I heard she chose that boy over me. I pour the pain into each line, turning the heartbreak into art. Each verse a release of emotion. Until the emotions are transferred to the words on the pages and I am no longer just a heartbroken girl, but a girl with music as her outlet. It’s turning awful memories into something that pulls me out of the deep end rather than something that drowns me. It’s cathartic. It’s emotionally draining. But it’s mine. And she can never take that away from me.

[pfirsichspritzer]

Rules: answer & tag 9 people you you want to get to know better and/or catch up with!

Thank you @cate-deriana for the tag <333

Favorite color: dark blue and dark red 

Last song I listened to: End of Beginning by Djo 

Last film I watched: The first half of The Sound of Music. Even though I am from Austria, I have actually never watched it before (Believe it or not, it is not really considered a classic here). But I liked the first half so far. Waiting for a good time to finish it, since it is a really long movie. 

Currently reading: Nothing. I recently finished People We Meet on Vacation by Emily Henry. Currently Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid, One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston, and NW by Zadie Smith are sitting on my nightstand, waiting to be read. (I am a pathological book-buyer and then taking forever to actually read them) If anyone has suggestions with which to start, they’ll be greatly appreciated 

Currently craving: Chocolate 

Currently watching: Abbott Elementary, Bridgerton, Queen Charlotte, and on my fifth rewatch of Lockwood & Co. 

Coffee or tea? Coffee. I need caffeine. However, since I am not particularly fond of the bitter taste, I usually take it with lots of milk or in the form of cold brew. Or I drink mate tea for that caffeine kick.

tagging: @annisthree, @rifle-yes, @gaygingersnaps, @rebelandrichgirl, @toooldforthisbutstill

@menina89, @alphacrone, @nomolosk, @youareiron-andyouarestrong

[thirdity]

The strongest paintings pursue an entirely different relation: not the narrow point-for-point argument between artist and art history but the essential, living communication between art work and viewer, a relationship that Yiadom-Boakye reminds us is indeed vicarious, voyeuristic, ambivalent and fundamentally uncontrollable. [...] The figures themselves are the basis for your fantasy, with their teasing, ambiguous titles, women dancing to unheard music, or peering through binoculars at objects unseen. They seem to have souls — that ultimate retrogressive term! — though by “soul” we need imply nothing more metaphysical here than the sum total of one person’s affect in the mind of another. Having this experience of other people (or of fictional simulacra of people) is an annoyingly persistent habit of actual humans, no matter how many convincing theoretical arguments attempt to bracket and contain the impulse, to carefully unhook it from transcendental ideas, or simply to curse it by one of its many names: realism, humanism, naturalism, figuration. [...] Yiadom-Boakye has inherited a narrative compulsion, which has less to do with capturing the real than with provoking, in her audience, a desire to impose a story upon an image. Central to this novelistic practice is learning how to leave sufficient space, so as to give your audience room to elaborate.

Zadie Smith, "A Bird of Few Words"

[tetw]

10 Great Essays about Music

Is Old Music Killing New Music? by Ted Gioia - Old songs now represent 70 percent of the U.S. music market. Even worse: The new-music market is actually shrinking.

The Dark Art of Mastering Music by Jordan Kisner - Shedding light on the elusive studio practice that’s all but necessary to make music sound great.

The Last Time New York Was Hardcore by Michael Stahl - In the ’90s, one high-octane underground music scene desperately held on to its rebellious roots of power chords, slam dancing and stage diving. What happened to hardcore?

Some Notes on Attunement by Zadie Smith - A voyage around Joni Mitchell

Is There Anything Left Of Hip Hop? by Jason England - Hip hop has reached its midlife crisis

The Problem With Saying Oontz Oontz by Spencer Kornhaber - The story of dance music in America is a story of boom and backlash. As Beyoncé and Drake turn to house-inspired sounds, will the cycle happen again?

Why Do We Even Listen to New Music? by Jeremy D. Larson - Our brains reward us for seeking out what we already know. So why should we reach to listen to something we don’t?

How Twitter Changed Music by Eric Harvey - Hashtag rap! Kanye rants! Terrifying stan pile-ons! For better and worse, Twitter has forever altered the music landscape.

What Will Happen When Machines Write Songs Just as Well as Your Favorite Musician? by Clive Thompson - Artificial intelligence tools will hurt some musicians and help others.

The Violin Doctor by Elly Fishman - He’s trusted to repair some of the world’s most fabled — and expensive — instruments. How does John Becker manage to unlock the sound of a Stradivarius?

[butter-whore2]

About me,

Hi I'm Ellie, I'm an Australian pseudo-intellectual who likes; Music, philosophy, Literature, and Ancient History, I'm hoping to use this blog to chat and as a diary for books I'm reading. I've listed some specifics below, feel free to chat abt or recommend anything based on them, no DNI, Interact with this blog in any form you wish. I'm interested mostly in Phenomenology, some thinkers I like: Wittgenstein, Anscombe, Heidegger, and Nietzsche, Music is mostly divided into indie(,/-) rock, and pop music, I collect records, I like: Charli XCX, Radiohead, Sufjan Stevens, Vampire weekend, The Cure, Adrienne Lenker; including Big Thief. Authors I like: DFW, Zadie Smith, Faulkner, Burroughs, Pynchon, Joyce, and Cormac McCarthy. NB: I like to use tumblr to microdose certain subjects I don't have the time nor inclination to spend real work studying, to wit: linguistics, mathematics, and economics, if I am ever wrong about any of these I highly encourage you to exercise as much pedantry as possible in correcting me.

[iishtar]

Articles no. 20

The Musical History Lesson Buried Beneath the Song of the Summer by Dan Charnas Slate June 2024

Zadie Smith is just the latest. Fashion and literature have a long history by Rachel Tashijan Washington Post August 2023

Hyperreal Individualism by Safy Hallan-Farah princess babygirl March 2024

Princess Babygirl Forever by Safy Hallan-Farah princess babygirl February 2024

Women of the Pleasure Quarters: The Secret History of the Geisha by Lesley Downer New York Times 2001

A Matter of Survival: On the Value of Fashion in Literature by Rachel Wagner The Millions October 2017

It Girl: A Girardian Analysis by Safy Hallan-Farah princess babygirl June 2024

The 'Espresso' Theory of Gender Relations by Spencer Kornhaber The Atlantic June 2024

Brat Summer: is the long era of clean living finally over? by Zoe Williams The Guardian July 2024

My stepfather sexually abused me as a child. My mother, Alice Munro, chose to stay with him by Andrea Robin Skinner Toronto Star July 2024

[onlyjaeyun]

zadie omg my spotify wrapped is chaos.

my most listend song is criminal love as i listened to it for 1.087 times.... then next is chaconne,given-taken, blessed-cursed and fate.

I SPENT 22.221 MINUTES LISTENING TO MUSIC,15 DAYS.

and...im in the top 0,1% listeners of enhypen with 9.123 hours....

im.insane.

-🍀

over one THOUSAND times..? bestie 😭 i cant help you anymore im afraid 💀but hey its given taken so i'll let it pass we love to see it 🤒

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

LEMON

6, 10, 19, 57, 58

THANK YOU

HI TESSA

6. do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

Mostly hoping for the best! I try to go for a hike every weekend, and that’s where I do a lot of my writing. I’ll jot stuff down into my notes app and then when I get home I’ll flesh it out.

10. at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

This is different for every fic, but usually it’s in the middle and most are from song lyrics. They usually come pretty easily, because I’m always listening to music, but there has been a time or two where I struggled or had a title that ended up getting changed at the very end of the process.

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

I think Joan Didion is a huge influence, just in the way her writing is very straightforward yet descriptive. And Gabriel García Márquez. Like, I don’t pretend to think my writing is anything like his but I really love the how playful his writing is and I really aspire to that! Also Isabel Allende, Zadie Smith, Hanif Abdurraqib, Ross Gay.

As far as fanfic writing goes, I would say I really love @liminalmemories21’s style and @iboatedhere’s dialogue. They are two of the first writers I read when I started reading fanfic. Oh! And @strandnreyes’s world building. Like. How?

57. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?

I don’t remember but I know I did a lot of googling while I was reading @birdclowns’s looking inwards because I wanted to make sure I was understanding everything.

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

I have googled a LOT about Austin’s nightlife for my Beck 5+1 fic, specifically the indie music venues. Like. Where would TK & Carlos go to a Cumbia dance party, where does Willie Nelson usually play etc. it’s been super neat and I wanna go to ATX so bad now!

Send a fanfic writer ask!