#i am late but my energy to edit last week was like non-existent so

[thatwasthenightthingschanged]

BEBE WOOD as LAKE MERIWETHER in the season 3 trailer of Love, Victor

#love victor #lovevictoredit #lake meriwether #bebe wood #ava capri #lake x lucy #lacy #cinematv #filmtv #dailylgbt #i am late but my energy to edit last week was like non-existent so #lv s3 #edit #sarahsedits

[levi-inthesun]

Loving Someone

This is for @stuckonjbbarnes​ writing challenge with the song Loving Someone by The 1975. 

Summary: In order to protect your heart, you made up the “only fuck once” rule, dictating that you could not sleep with the same person more than once. Then Carol Danvers comes back to the compound, to stay. Will this rule bite you in the ass?

Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, dirty talk?

Paring: Carol x Reader

A/N- I did not edit this.... so sorry

“What are you doing tonight?” Sam asked as you both slowed to an easy jog.

“Probably just gonna go the bar,” you reply easily.

Sam stops abruptly, “How long are you going to stay in denial?” There isn’t any malice or bite to his words, just genuine concern and it makes you feel uneasy. You make some non-committal noise instead of answering and finish jogging to the doors of the compound. 

You do your best to avoid Sam the rest of the day, which wasn’t too difficult until it’s time for you to leave for your favorite bat. Except Sam is standing by the door, dressed and ready to go. As you approach, Sam has that look in his eyes and you know you cannot convince him to stay home unless you stay home tonight. 

“You driving or are we getting an uber?” You ask, throwing your cropped leather jacket on. 

“I’ll drive,” Sam decides, grabbing a random set of keys and you both make your way to the garage.

The bar is only slightly packed, which is, in your humble opinion, optimal. You like to have room to breathe, more specifically though, room to dance with whatever woman consents. 

You skip over to the bar and order a rum and coke and chat with your favorite bartender and Sam watches from a booth he’s claimed. 

“You know, you are a lot less closed off here,” he casually says while throwing a peanut into his mouth. 

“Are you just going to therapize me the entire night?” You (semi) joke.

Sam shrugs and you take a long sip of your drink before moving towards the dancing people.

The night went on how every weekend-night goes. You get pleasantly buzzed/on the edge of drunk, dance with hot women, and eventually, go to either your place or their place where you will (hopefully) ravish each other. 

~

You wake up slowly, a faint pressure on your hip. You hear the woman behind you breathe deeply before stretching gently.

“Morning,” she says softly, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder. “I’d love to stay for breakfast, er,” she looks at her phone. “Lunch but I’ve got a meeting later.” 

You nod and watch her hop around throwing her clothes back on. “I’m just gonna use the bathroom then I’ll be out of your hair,” she says, watching as you sit up and the sheet pools around your waist.

You raise an eyebrow in reply.

Once she’s left (with her phone number written on your mirror with the lipstick she was wearing last night), you throw on a pair of sweats and one of Sam’s shirts before making your way out to the kitchen.

“She was cute,” Sam says, throwing something in the microwave.

You hum in agreement and look through the fridge, eventually settling on an apple. 

“Oh, we’ve got a meeting at 3,” Sam informs you. “Captain Marvel is back in town and she has some stuff she needs to brief us on.”

“Captain Marvel is a woman, huh?” You ask Sam, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

“You do know that not everyone is bisexual, right?” Sam teases. He grabs his bag of popcorn out of the microwave and starts to walk out of the kitchen before turning back. “Uh, maybe don’t have a one night stand with our teammate?”

~~

You are ready to crawl into a hole or have the earth open up and eat you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Carol greets you, a mischievous glint in her light brown eyes. 

“Oh, fuck me,” you whisper before composing yourself. “Hey, Carol,” you say, shaking her hand. 

“I already did,” Carol states, voice low, before switching gears to get the meeting started. 

The entire meeting is spent trying to listen to Carol talk about possible issues outside of the earth’s orbit, but really you just end up staring, flashes from last night taking over when she moves a certain way. The other part is spent sending death glares at Sam and Bucky who are having the time of their lives at your misery.

Carol excuses herself to take a call and you lean forward, finger-pointing at the men across from you.

“You knew!” You whisper scream, “You couldn’t have warned me? What the hell?” 

Sam grins, “I just… Listen, I was going to when I realized it was Carol, but then I remembered that it is 5 million times more fun watching you suffer.”

Bucky cocks his head to the side, “Wait, did you hook up with Carol?”

“Some spy you are,” you grumble as Carol walks back in, a slight frown on her face.

“Apparently I’m grounded for the next… well,” Carol pauses, taking a deep breath, “foreseeable future.”

Sam and Bucky high-five under the table, then volunteer you to show Carol around. 

~

After showing Carol around the compound you decided you needed to go out again tonight. During the tour, Carol was extremely flirty, which was welcomed- except for the fact that she was a teammate and not a one night stand. To avoid her, you spent the rest of the day hiding in your room and searching your closet for the perfect outfit to wear. You ended up in a crop top with high waisted, wide-legged pants, and after checking yourself in the mirror you walked out of your room with your head held high. Luckily no one was in the kitchen and you were able to leave the compound without anyone noticing, or so you thought.

The club was vibrating with energy as patrons drank too much and danced as much as they could. You downed a shot at the bar then headed into the crowd. At the heart of the masses, you threw your hands in the air and danced, not caring who with. Soon a pair of large hands gripped your hips. Turning your head to the side, you glanced up at the beautiful man before leaning your body into his. Time was non-existent as you danced with the man and you were positive the feeling of his hand on your waist was burned into your skin.  

“You want to get out of here,” he asked, lips at the shell of your ear and voice low. 

“I’d rather stay here and dance for a little while longer. That good with you?” You replied eyebrow raised.

Instead of saying anything, he rolled his eyes and walked away, attaching those large hands to some other woman.

You rolled your eyes and sighed as you headed back to the bar and ordered a beer. You sat down and took a long drag from the bottle before popping some peanuts into your mouth. A remix of your favorite song came on, causing you to down the rest of the bottle before heading back into the throng.

You moved your own body with the mix of bodies around you, circling your hips, running your fingers through your hair. You saw a familiar hand slip around your middle and in your alcohol-induced haze, you thought it would be a good idea to test fate.

Lips crashed together as you both got out of the taxi and headed towards the compound. 

“Wait,” you cautioned, “ Gotta make sure no one is up.”

“It’s 3 am, Y/N,” Carol countered, “Who is going to be up?”

You chuckled before heading into the common area, Carol trailing behind you. When you found everything dark and empty, Carol’s voice cut through the silence.

“FRIDAY, are any of our teammates up?”

“No,” FRIDAYS voice replied, volume lowered for how late early it was, “All Avengers except you and Y/N Y/L/N are asleep.”

A mischievous look took over Carol’s features as she stalked towards you, causing you to back into a couch, almost falling over the back of it.

Carol quickly caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing her lips to your neck with open-mouthed kisses, causing a low moan to escape you. She then traced her tongue from the pulse point below your jaw over to your mouth. 

“You’ve gotta be quiet, baby,” Carol teased, voice low. “If you can do that, I’ll reward you by taking you to my room and fucking you so hard you can’t help but scream.”

A soft whimper left your lips and you nodded, crashing your lips against hers.

~

When you woke up, the first thing you realized was that you were alone in Carol’s bed. You quickly looked around, finding her room empty.

“God damnit,” you muttered to yourself. “I was supposed to go to the club and find  someone else to sleep with.” 

Your muttering continued as climbed out of her bed to find your clothes scattered throughout her quarters.

You didn’t notice right away when Carol walked back in, giving her the opportunity to admire your half-dressed form. 

You were about to put your bra on when you noticed her, leaning up against her desk with two mugs of coffee in hand. Her lips turned up in a smirk as she saw what she thought looked a lot like relief flood over you. 

Standing there, bra hanging around your middle, still staring at the gorgeous woman you’ve slept with twice now, you were overwhelmed with confusion. You quickly shook your head and fixed your bra and Carol pushed off the desk towards you.

“Thought you might want some coffee,” she said, handing it over.

“After last night I’ll probably need a pint,” you whispered, taking a sip.

“What was that?” Carol asked eyebrow raised. 

You coughed and looked up at her before clearing your throat. “Uh, I just said I’d probably need a pint after last night.”

Carol smiled, “And why is that?”

“Seriously, Carol? Do you need to hear me say it?” you asked. 

“Yes,” she replied simply. “Say it.”

You set the coffee down on the nearest flat surface before stepping closer to her. “I need a goddamn pint of coffee because you fucked me into almost every surface of your room until I couldn’t form a coherent sentence.”

“And I’ll do it anytime you’d like,” she told you, voice husky.

You quickly cleared your throat, then located your shirt and headed towards the door. “I wouldn’t count on it,” you did your best to keep your voice even. “I rarely sleep with the same person more than once.”

~

You spent the following weeks avoiding Carol unless absolutely necessary, which included going to a different bar and staying more sober than you normally would, just to make sure you didn’t accidentally end up back in her arms bed. 

“You’ve been drinking less,” Bucky stated with a questioning look on his face.

“And what’s that to ya, bionicle boy?” you responded, taking another bite of leftover pasta.

Bucky shrugged, “ Just curious. I-”

“Not just curious,” Sam interrupted, walking out from around the corner. “There are very few things that can get you to drink less. So what is it?”

You huffed and was about to deny them when Carol walked in, sweaty from the gym. She greeted you and you smiled in response, then did your best to not watch the bead of sweat trail down her neck. 

You sighed inwardly when she walked out of the kitchen.

Sam and Bucky shared a look before narrowing in on you. 

“You just sighed,” Bucky accused, “What happened between you and Carol?”

“I bet I know,” Sam said. “I bet you slept with Carol a second time, breaking your only fuck once rule.”

You tried to interrupt Sam, but he wouldn’t let you.

“BUT! Not only that, you have a crush on her,” he finished. 

“I do not!” You exclaimed, trying to sound annoyed. 

“Your voice just went up an octave,” Bucky observed, “Which means you are lying.”

“What do you have to say about that?” Sam questioned.

You could feel your face heat up and you jumped off the counter. “I’d say,” you turn to them, legitimately annoyed now, “That it’s none of your business.”

Instead of stomping off to your room, you walked out the front door and headed in whatever direction your feet took you, ending up at a park. Taking a deep breath you sat down on a nearby bench and let your head fall back so you were looking up at the sky. You stayed like that for a while, just watching the soft clouds roll by, mind empty. 

At least, it was empty until you looked up and saw two women holding hands, watching their kid go down the slide. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself. 

You thought about what Bucky and Sam had accused you of, and you knew they were right. You had a big ole’ fat crush on Carol Danvers, fucking Captain Marvel, the woman who played your body better than anyone ever had. That’s when memories flooded your mind.

Memories about people from your past who you had cared deeply for, and who all betrayed your heart. The last one was just after you dropped out of college, right before the Avengers recruited you. After her, you swore you’d never care for anyone in that way ever again. It was just easier that way. Except, when you looked back up at the couple, you felt a heavy loneliness come over you filled with a special kind of pain.  

You looked away and your eyes caught on a woman who looked too much like Carol. You rolled your eyes before scrubbing your hands over your face. 

“Y/N?” Carol’s voice called out, causing you to tear your eyes from a spot on the sidewalk, surprise etched into your features. “I was looking for you when Sam told me you walked off, upset. He said you’d probably be here.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. 

Carol took that as an invitation to sit down next to you, allowing some space between. 

“I was looking for you because I am fed up with you avoiding me,” She stated. “I’ve been tired of it for about a while now, actually.” 

You let your eyes slide over to the woman next to you, eyeing her carefully. 

“Another reason I came looking for you is because I was worried about you,” she said softly. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Well, I’m fine,” you said far too quickly. 

“Obviously,” Carol chuckled. 

You were both quiet for a few beats too long when Carol spoke up again.

“It would be easy for me to be upset with how you’ve been treating me without acknowledging something probably happened to cause you to react like this,” she said, “So, I’ll just say this once and leave the ball in your court.” She turned her body towards yours and your body turned all on its own to face her. “It sucks that someone, or multiple someones, hurt you so badly in your past that you’ve decided to make your ‘only fuck once’ rule, all to avoid developing any sort of connection or feelings for anybody ever again. It seems like your rule to avoid connection is hurting you more than you thought it would, so I know there’s hope,” Carol stood up abruptly to stand in front of you. 

“You should be loving someone,” she finally said. “Just, fucking let yourself love someone.” 

You sat there staring at her, heart beating out of your chest because you knew she was right. You stayed silent because you were scared of how much you have already started falling for her, and you were searching for the right thing to say. 

Carol hung her head in defeat before turning to walk back down the path she came, pausing like she wanted to say something else, but changed her mind and began walking away from you. 

~

“Carol?!” You called as you walked into the common room, “Carol! Where are you?” 

“Can you stop yelling,” a gruff voice pleaded from the couch. “She’s not here.” 

“Do you know where she is?” you asked, “Buck, I need to find her.”

“I think she went to a bar,” Bucky said with a sigh, realizing he wasn’t going to be able to continue napping. 

“Thanks!” You said, running towards your room to change your clothes. 

~

You had gotten FRIDAY to disclose which bar Carol was at, and sped through New York traffic on your bike, getting there in record time. 

As you walked in, your eyes scanned the room looking for her. You walked over to the bar to ask the bartender if they’d seen her, and they pointed to the far side of the room. You looked her over, noticing how she was leaning up against the wall, talking to some gorgeous woman. It reminded you of the last time you slept together, how sexy she looked leaning up against her desk. 

The song changed to Loving Someone by the 1975, bringing you back into the present. You watched her for a moment longer, gathering your courage when she looked past the woman in front of her and locked eyes with you. A smile tugged at her lips giving you the courage you needed to close the distance. You saw her say something to the woman who waved her off before she met you halfway. 

You both stopped in the middle of the bar and she looked to you expectantly.

“You were right,” you admitted. “I made that stupid rule to try to protect my heart and I think I honestly caused it to break too many times.”

Carol raised an eyebrow, urging you to continue.

You let out a sigh, “Aaaand I like you and that scares me,” you admitted.

Carol smiled, “Well, then can I buy you a drink?” 

You shook your head, pulling the keys out of your pocket, “I’m good. You wanna go for a ride?” 

Carol’s smile stretched further over her lips and she nodded, so you took her hand and walked out of the bar.

#dani250 #carol danvers #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers fanfic #carol danvers x reader #carol x reader #reader insert #Captain Marvel #captain marvel fanfic #captain marvel fanfiction #the avengers #The avengers fanfiction #The Avengers fanfic #carol danvers smut

[alexsfictionaddiction]

Alex Recommends: May and June Books

I must apologise for the late arrival of this post. It should have been up days ago but I’ve been struggling to read much for the last month or so. My head has been very foggy and dark with all of the confusion, anxiety and hate that has been filling my news feeds and I’ve been filled with a desire to combat it. Before this month, I’d have run in the opposite direction from any kind of confrontation but recent events have given me the kick up the butt to actively do better. I’ve been calling out bigotry when I come across it and I’ve noticed that some people, notably my older relatives, haven’t necessarily reacted favorably to the changed, more outspoken Alex. It has been pretty daunting and I’ve worked myself up into fits of rage and tears several times over the last couple of months.

A lot of things have changed for me since my last Alex Recommends post. I’m currently temporarily living in Staffordshire with my boyfriend because my depression got too bad for me to stay at home for much longer. I missed him unbelievably much and I knew that spending some prolonged time with him would help -and it has. Both him and I have spent 12 weeks religiously following all of the rules, so we’re both extremely low-risk for catching and spreading COVID-19 and being together was something that we simply really needed to do. Please don’t hate me for it! In other news, I have also started writing again, which feels amazing. I’m now a few thousand words into a queer Rapunzel retelling that I have lots of ideas for. Maybe I’ll even post an extract or two, when I feel it’s ready to show you.

In the centre of the renewed energy of Black Lives Matter and the undeniable exposure of the horrors that is police brutality, the book blogging and BookTube worlds vowed to uplift Black voices. I wrote a very long, in-depth blog post full of Black-written books and Black book influencers. Please check it out to diversify your TBR and educate yourself on Black issues, which is what every white person should be doing now and always.

June was Pride Month and I tried my best to compile a series of recommendation posts in honour of it. These included gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, non-binary, ace, pansexual and intersex lists. I’ve had some great feedback on this, so I hope you find some fantastic new reads. It felt especially poignant to put them together the same year that one of my childhood heroes came out as an ignorant trans-exclusive feminist. As a lifelong Harry Potter superfan and someone who has repeatedly publicly supported Rowling in the past, I feel the need to clarify where I now stand. I do not support or agree with a single thing that she has said in recent times with regard to transgender people. I’ve never felt my own status as a cisgender female threatened by trans people wanting more rights or believed that children or women were at risk due to their existence. 

I read her words more than once and struggled to find any semblance of the woman who wrote the books that have most defined my life. I’m hesitant to say that we can always successfully separate the art from the artist but I will say that it makes sense to me that the Rowling of 2020 is not the same Rowling that wrote Harry Potter. She was a destitute single mother when Philosopher’s Stone was published in 1997 and of course, she is now a million worlds away from that lifestyle. It breaks my heart but it makes sense to me that she has changed beyond belief because her life has changed beyond belief. I’m not and never would make any excuses for her recent behaviour and I have stopped supporting her personally but I will not be getting rid of my Harry Potter books and I will undoubtedly re-read them several more times. However, I am now hugely reluctant to buy any more merchandise or special editions of the books, which saddens me but at the moment, it feels right. There is no coming back for her from this and I will make a conscious effort to keep Harry Potter and Rowling away from my future content. It can be really tough to admit that the people you once really admired aren’t great humans but it’s something that we all have to acknowledge in this case, in order to move forward with our own quests to become our best selves.

It didn’t feel right to post my May recommendations last month as I didn’t feel comfortable promoting my own content in the midst of boosting Black voices. So today I’m bringing you a bumper edition of Alex Recommends. Here are 10 books that I’ve enjoyed since the start of May that I’d love to share with you. Enjoy! -Love, Alex x

FICTION: Little Fires Everywhere by Celeste Ng

Set in the affluent neighbourhood of Shaker Heights, Ohio in the 1990s, two families are brought together and pulled apart by the most intense, devastating circumstances. Dealing with issues of race, class, coming-of-age, motherhood and the dangers of perfection, Little Fires Everywhere is highly addictive and effecting. With characters who are so heartbreakingly real and a story that weaves its way to your very core, I couldn’t put it down and I’m still thinking about it over a month after finishing it. 

FICTION: Get A Life, Chloe Brown by Talia Hibbert

When coding nerd Chloe Brown almost dies, she makes a list of goals and vows to finally Get A Life. So she enlists tattooed redhead handyman and biker Red to teach her how. Cute, funny and ultimately life-affirming, this enemies-to-lovers rom-com was exactly the brand of light relief that I needed this month. The follow-up Take A Hint, Dani Brown focuses on a fake-dating situation with Chloe’s over-achieving academic sister and I can’t wait to get my hands on that.

FICTION: The Rearranged Life of Oona Lockhart by Margarita Montimore

Just before her 19th birthday at midnight on New Year’s Eve 1983, Oona Lockhart finds herself inexplicably in 2015 inside her 51-year-old body. She soon learns that every year on New Year’s Day, she will now find herself inside a random year of her life and she has no control over it. Seeing her through relationships, friendships and extreme wealth, this strange novel has echoes of Back To The Future and 13 Going On 30 with a final revelation that I certainly never saw coming.

NON-FICTION: The Five by Hallie Rubenhold

Atmospheric and engaging, The Five details the previously untold stories of Polly, Annie, Elisabeth, Kate and Mary-Jane -the women who lost their lives at the hands of Jack the Ripper. Full of fascinating research and heartbreaking accounts of what these women’s lives may have been like, Rubenhold paints a dark immersive portrait of Victorian London and gives voice to these tragic silenced lives. Although we can’t know for certain if these accounts are entirely accurate, they feel very plausible and in some ways, The Five exposes how little time has moved on, when it comes to the public portrayal of single, troubled women.

NON-FICTION: Unicorn by Amrou Al-Kadhi

From a childhood crush on Macaulay Culkin to how a teenage obsession with marine biology helped them realise their non-binary identity, Unicorn tells the story of how the obsessive perfectionist son of a strict Muslim Iraqi family became the gorgeous drag queen Glamrou. Packed full of humour, honesty and heart, this book will give you the strength and inspiration to harness what you were born with and be who you were always meant to be.

MIDDLE-GRADE: The Super Miraculous Journey of Freddie Yates by Jenny Pearson

When fact-obsessed Freddie’s grandmother dies, he discovers that the father he has never met may actually be alive and living in Wales. So he has no choice but to grab his best friends Ben and Charlie, leave his home in Andover and go to find his dad! I laughed so many times during this madcap adventure and I know the slapstick crazy humour will hit the middle-grade target audience just right. It’s also a wonderful depiction of small town Britain with a focus on the true meaning of family.

MIDDLE-GRADE: A Kind Of Spark by Elle McNicoll

When Addie learns about her hometown’s history of witch trials, she campaigns tirelessly to get a memorial for the women who lost their lives through it. This wonderfully beautiful novel gives a unique insight into the mind of an 11-year-old autistic girl with a huge heart. Busting myths about neurodiversity while tackling typical pre-teen drama, you’ll laugh, you’ll cry but most of all, you’ll close the book with a huge smile on your face. 

HISTORICAL FICTION: Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell

In 16th century Warwickshire, Agnes is a woman with a unique gift whose relationship with a young Latin tutor produces three children and a legacy that lasts for centuries. This enchanting, all-consuming account of the tragic story of Shakespeare’s lost son, the effects that rippled through the family and the play that was born from their pain will send a bullet straight through your heart. Wonderfully researched and beautifully written, Hamnet is worth all of the hype.

HISTORICAL FICTION: The Mercies by Kiran Millwood Hargrave

When a vicious storm kills most of the men of Vardø, Norway, it’s up to the women to keep things going but a man with a murderous past is about to come down with an iron fist. At the heart of this dark tale of witch trials, grief and feminism, two women find something they’ve each been searching for within each other. Gorgeously written with a fantastically slow-burning queer romance, Kiran Millwood Hargrave’s first adult novel is an addictive, atmospheric read with a poignant, tearjerker of an ending.

SCI-FI: Q by Christina Dalcher

When one of Elena’s daughters manages to drop below the country’s desired Q number, she is sent away to one of the new state schools and Elena is about to find out something she’d really rather not know about the new system. Packed full of real social commentary and critique of life as we know it while painting a picture of how things could be even worse (yes, really!), this pulse-racing, horrifying sci-fi dystopian gripped me from the first page and refused to let me go. 

#book recommendations #recommended #recommendations #may #june #books #bookworm

[huphilpuffs]

creator tag meme 2019

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! 

Choose your 5 favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by the lovelies @obsessivelymoody, @tortitabby, @det395, @iamalwaysclowning and @outphan! thank you all so so so much for thinking of me 💛

this year was a pretty quiet fandom year for me, ngl. between dnp being more quiet than usual and my life getting pretty hectic between uni, working the summer, and my health issues I just haven’t had the time or energy to create works as much as I used to. but!! I did still manage to post/update 11 fics (idk how many words because ao3 says 134 792 but uhhh that includes all of flares so *shrug*) and a few edits! and I’m mostly proud of what I did put out this year. and I immensely appreciate the friends and community this fandom has continued to offer me 💛

1. flares

okay so I didn’t technically post this in 2019, but I have updated it and it remains my baby so! here it is! (you all know it was coming lets be real.) this story, despite the slow updates, is always such a joy to write. emotionally draining for sure, but there’s something so ... cathartic about being able to write the world as I experience it for once. I’m so proud of how far this story has come and where I intend to bring it in 2020, and am soooo beyond grateful for everyone who has stuck with it since 2018. also, the comments from fellow chronically ill people talking about how they relate make my day/week/month/year and I’m eternally grateful!

2. the scariest part (is letting go)

okay this fest fic got veryyy out of hand but I’m super happy with how it turned out? exploring the dynamics of internalized homophobia while in a queer relationship was just ... very interesting to write. and forced me to think about my own relationship to my sexuality a lot. and gave me a new perspective on the last decade (!!!) of dnp. 

3. family (found)

this was my first time writing something so heavily platonic-relationship centric and I just ... adored it? there’s so much nuance in non-romantic relationships and writing about family dynamics, especially when it’s so sweet and developed over the course of so long, and writing it was just :’) also i fully expected it to flop but it’s one of my best performing fics this year so! thank you!

4. this random edit idk it doesn’t have a title

I edited very very little this year, but right after dan came out I had so much inspiration to play with bright colours and new, authentic dan. the first panel of this edit in particular was really experimental for me and I’m so proud of how it came out. also 12/10 to that song by alex g. I really want to go back to it more in 2020 (even though the fact that I quit again like 2 weeks after he came out may appear to contradict that). 

5. simple kind of love

there’s nothing super special about this fic in terms of writing, tbh, but it was my first attempt at writing femslash and I love it for that alone. it still makes me soft to think about and not just because I high key had a crush on my RA in first year and mayyy not be totally over it 

honourable mention: having the courage to exist project

doing this as an honourable mention because I’m not very proud of the editing/graphic itself but I’m really proud of the concept and am very glad it was something I could put together for everyone who chose to participate 💛

I’m super late to this so I’m not gonna tag anyone but to all the lovely creators out there, if you want to do this, please do. it’s so important to let yourself be proud of yourself sometimes!

#callie does life

[dalgonachan]

Pairwork

pairing: Jun x reader genre: fluff warnings: swearing prompt: Jun may be your best friend and ultimate crush, but he's your worst nightmare when it comes to projects word count: 2624

"(Y/n), wake up." You feel a weight on your shoulder shaking you awake.

Yawning, you groggily lift your head from your arms and try to make sense of your surroundings. "Oh frick, I fell asleep. How long was I out?"

"Half an hour." Your best friend, Jun, tells you.

"What?! Junhui!" You scold him. "That's so much time wasted!"

The two of you were in the library, working on a project due by the end of the week. Apparently, you had accidentally fallen asleep in the middle of doing so.

"Hey, it's not my fault you're difficult to wake up. Besides, you looked so peaceful and adorable." He teased, a mischievous smile adorning his features.

"What do you mean adorable? I'm pretty sure I look sleep-deprived." You say, rubbing your eyes before getting right back to work.

"Well, maybe it's time you cut down on your caffeine intake and fix your sleep schedule. It's bad to stay up late all the time, you know." He nags, earning a death glare from you.

It really pissed you off that Junhui dared to talk about your caffeine intake and non-existent sleep schedule. First of all, those two weren't even the main reasons as to why you were losing so much sleep lately. The real problem was Wen Junhui. He's a great friend, you could never deny that, but boy, was he such a terrible person to work with at projects. Junhui always had your back and you could count on him any time for anything. You loved him very much for that. Unfortunately, it was a terrible disaster that a friend like him would turn out to be a useless partner and freeloader.

"I would have a sleep schedule in the first place if only someone was helpful in making our research study." You snarked, still glaring daggers at him.

"Hey! I help!" Jun shoves you playfully, but that doesn't lighten up your mood because you shove him back harder that he nearly falls off his chair.

"No, you don't! Proofreading and editing isn't help!" You bark, turning back to your laptop screen to ignore him. If he wasn't going to continue the project with you right now, you might as well get on with it yourself.

"Yes, it is. Do you know how many grammatical and punctuation errors you make in a single paragraph? I get a migraine with every mistake I see." He teased.

Oh, the nerve. How shameless of him. That alone was more than enough to make you collide your fist with his arm. Junhui yelped upon the painful contact, rubbing the spot you mercilessly punched.

"That's because I'm the one doing everything even if it's supposed to be pairwork! So it's all of my energy being used up! Therefore, you have no right to speak against my efforts." You argue, hoping this would finally get him to shut up and help out.

"Jeez, I'm sorry. What do you want me to do then?" Jun innocently asks.

"Oh my god, Wen Junhui. You're my best friend and all and I love you, but you are such a pain in the ass." Truth be told. No doubt you were madly in love with the fool, but your fuse was quickly running out the more time he spent not contributing. "Do you know how aggravating it is to see your name in the honors list?! Don't get me wrong, I'm proud of you, okay? But I can't help but also feel so cheated because I'm doing all the work here and you're privileged with brains to get all the good marks, but you're actually so fucking useless. I'm sorry if I offend you, but let me just be honest for once!"

You run your fingers through your hair but stop halfway to grab a handful of locks to tug on. Although you were glowing red, you couldn't be sure about whether you pulled your hair out of anger or regret from saying that. Indeed you were irked about the current situation, but deep inside your anxiety was gnawing on every inch of your body, mind, and soul. The longer the deafening silence between the both of you lasted, the more you dreaded what was bound to happen. You were afraid Jun was hurt by your words that he might end up ditching you on the project, however, that didn't compare to the amount of fear you felt that he probably didn't want to be friends with you anymore after all you've said. The second presumption was worse, considering the feelings you harbored for him over the years.

"What? Don't you have anything to say for yourself? Care to explain why you're freeloading?" Stubborn as you were, you still weren't ready to give up on arguing about the research paper.

"Let's take this outside," Jun says, motioning his head to the other people in the library who were giving you foul looks.

Your body went cold with embarrassment as you realized the disturbance you were causing. Rising from your seat, you packed your things and exited the library while being followed by stares that felt like needles pricking your back. Once you and Jun were a good distance from the doors of the library, he began rambling.

"(Y/n), I'm really sorry. You know how busy I am training at Pledis! I swear you're not the only one without a sleep schedule. They don't let us go home unless we've already perfected the tasks they set for us daily. It doesn't matter if we starve or stay overtime. Don't even get me started about consequences." He was being genuinely apologetic, your heart twinged with guilt for calling him useless.

A long, breathy sigh escapes your lips. As much as you wanted to sympathize with Junhui, the project was still at stake, so you stood firm on your ground.

"Alright, I hear you and I'm sorry for the outburst. I don't mean everything I said, but no matter how reasonable your point is, it still doesn't justify you leaving me to do everything. At least do what's left of the study if you still want your name on the paper."

"Yes, I understand. I mean I do see how unfair I was being to you. I'm sorry about that. You deserve to have grades better than mine." Jun says, making your guilt sink in even deeper.

"Hey, don't say that! You still have time to start on it, so don't give up yet. Besides, you won't let me do it all alone, would you?" You tease, nudging his side with your elbow.

He looks up at the sky in thought while tapping his chin. "Hmmm... depends. I mean we are getting a lot busier since we're preparing for our debut."

You send another punch to his arm.

"That's it. I'm taking your name off." You say and stomp off.

He catches up to you and hooks an arm around your shoulder. "You can't do that! You love me."

He said it teasingly, but you can hear the fear hidden in his voice.

"Unfortunately, you're completely correct." You sigh and roll your eyes, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you try to shrug his arm off. "But I can still change my mind."

Junhui could only let out a nervous laugh.

It was the night before the submission of your research paper and you were panicking. Thankfully, Junhui lived up to his word and did his part within the past few days. Albeit his change of heart, the study was still nowhere near accomplishment. For the final touches, he came to your house so both of you could pull an all-nighter and cram the rest of the study together. Of course, it couldn't be helped that you were getting sleepier by the second. Junhui didn't fail to notice how you were slowly fading in and out of consciousness by how closely your head was getting to the keyboard.

"Why don't you sleep for a while? I'll handle the rest." He spoke up for the first time in hours, surprising you awake.

"No, this is pairwork!" You defiantly decline his offer, immediately getting back to work.

"Yeah, pairwork that I've been avoiding for so long. It's okay, I'll take it from here. You've already done so much." He urged. The way Jun's eyes looked straight into yours gave you the feeling he was convincing you to trust him.

"Hmmm..." you ponder on it, quite hesitant on choosing to sleep on the project and let Junhui take charge of it. "I don't know. I'll just make myself another cup of coffee."

Before you could even take a step out of your bed, Junhui was quick to stop you.

"No! You've already had seven in the past six hours!" He scolded sternly, but you could hear the concern in his tone.

"So?! I've had way more on other days." You reason out stubbornly. "I need to work."

"Fine. How about we do shifts?" Junhui was unwilling to surrender. "How about you sleep as I continue this for an hour, then I'll wake you up and you continue. Sounds like a deal?"

He gave off his best grin and you couldn't help but notice how he was evidently in need of sleep as well. The circles around his eyes were growing darker and his movements were becoming lethargic. Could this boy really last one more hour? You didn't give much thought since it wasn't like you had enough brain cells to think of a better deal.

"Deal. But just one hour, okay?!" You held up a single finger centimeters before his face while glaring at him wide-eyed.

"Promise." He swats your hand away.

"You better." You say threateningly as you snuck into the comfort of your pillows and blanket.

Turns out, Junhui had no plans on waking you up. Your eyes shot open as you heard his voice wake you from what seemed like a very deep slumber. The first thing you felt was panic.

"Time to go." He smiled down at you cheekily and you had to fight off the impulse to slap him.

"Why didn't you wake me up?! What happened to the deal?!" You hopped off your bed and checked the time on your phone. It read 6:15 a.m. Classes were about to begin in an hour and fifteen minutes and the research output was due before lunch period. "Did you finish it?!"

At this point, it didn't matter anymore if you weren't there to help Junhui wrap up the rest of the study. Right now, you just needed something to submit. This time, compliance was at stake.

"Even printed it." His cheeky smile grows even wider as he holds up the thick stack of papers.

You could tell he was sleep-deprived by how unruly his hair and clothes were. Nevertheless, he still looked handsome as ever.

Come on, brain. I know you just came from sleep, but I need you to clear up and function properly.

You let out a sigh of relief. Guess this boy isn't completely useless after all.

A while later, you and Jun were prepared to leave for school. Luckily, your dad offered to drive you there since you were running out of time. Throughout the whole ride, you were double-checking the papers out of paranoia, in case there were any missing data or typographical errors.

"What else are you looking for? I swear to you I put everything in there." Jun whined.

"Just double-checking," you replied. "One can never be sure."

"Ouch." He held a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. "Don't you trust me?"

With a scoff, you said, "You're the reason I have trust issues."

There could be nothing else more dramatic than him faking an offended gasp.

By the time you and Jun reached the classrooms after your dad had dropped you off, you've already double-checked the papers about five times. It was perfect and you couldn't be more grateful for Jun's help. Since you still had time to spare before the first period started, you suggested turning in your project to which Jun agreed to do.

The teacher was quite pleased with your early submission that he offered to give you bonus points if your study was excellently made. That enough initiated a surge of joy throughout your whole being, you couldn't be sure if the smile on your face was ever going away.

"Hey, you're not so bad after all." You say, bumping Jun with your shoulder.

"Really, that's how you thank me?" He childishly pouted at you. "Why do you keep hurting me, huh? My heart can only take so much."

You roll your eyes and bump into him even harder that he stumbles away. "Ugh, stop it you, drama queen. If it makes you feel any better, I am really grateful for your collaboration and service. You are the best groupmate anyone could ever ask for."

"Awww! Thanks, (Y/n)!" He places his arm around your shoulder. "But let's be honest. You're the real MVP."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Shut up, idiot. We did it together and that's what matters."

"Nahhh... I still feel like you did like ninety-nine percent of it. But anyway, sorry for being a freeloader. I hope I can make it up to you." He looks over at you timidly and you couldn't help but find him looking so cute.

"Junhui, what the heck are you even saying?" You chuckle. "You helped me and that's already enough. If anything, I'm sorry I was mean to you over the project. Maybe I should make it up to you."

"No." He responded. "I should be the one making up for my shortcomings both as a partner and friend."

"Oh, come on." You got out of his grip and faced him with your arms crossed. "Don't you want anything?"

Judging by the tone of your voice, you were willing to offer literally anything. Eyes squinted and lips pursed, Jun put extra careful thought into it... or at least he pretended to.

With a smirk, he looked straight at you and said, "Go out with me."

It took you a while to process the words he had just uttered. Taken aback with astonishment, you blinked at him with wide eyes as your cheeks burned a poppy color. Jun immediately turned shy, contrary to his previous bout of confidence from seconds ago.

"Look, I know it's probably such a bad timing to confess, but I've liked you for the longest time. Come on, just one date. Pleeeeeaaaase?" He put on his best puppy eyes and begged with his hands clasped together. Of course, you couldn't resist that.

"Before I answer that, I'd like to say I don't think it's such a bad timing to confess because you know what?" You return the same smirk he gave you a while ago. "I've liked you for the longest time, too. Sure, I'll go on a date with you."

"Wahhhh, thank you so much!" An overly gleeful Jun engulfed you into a bone-crushing hug while hopping. When he let go, he pumped his fist into the air triumphantly as you giggled at his little celebration.

"But just to be clear, you're not doing this so I don't get mad in case our research paper gets a low mark, right?" You raise a brow while pointing an accusing finger at him.

"No, but I'm sure you'll end up getting mad at me one way or another." Jun huffed.

Chuckling, you loop your arm with his. "You know me so well."

"Uh, yeah duh." He rolled his eyes.

With that, both of you finally returned to your classroom in time for the first subject to begin.

#seventeenimagine #seventeen scenarios #seventeenfluff #seventeen jun #seventeen #jun #moon junhwi #fluff #kpopfluff #kpop imagines #wen junhui #wenjerry #svt #seventeen x reader #genderneutral #jun x reader #jun imagines

[nofeartina]

Hey Tina! I'm loving your tbts cos I always miss reading your stories and it's nice to visit them again.... are you, um...working on anything new these days? I hope its sunny where you are 😊

Hi sweet anon.

I’m so happy to hear you’re enjoying my TBTs!! I was hoping my old fics can find new readers by doing it, so that great! :)

I am working on a bit, but.... yeah, not to get too personal but I’ve been having a really rough time these last months and it has taken such a toll on me that my inspiration has been basically non-existent. These last weeks, in particular, has been especially hard, to the point where I’ve barely had the energy to interact on tumblr, so if my blog has seemed a bit boring lately, that’s why.

But I have a few fics I’m working on when I have the energy for it. @fille-lioncelle and I are done with one of the fics we’re writing, and I only need to read it through before we can send it off to be betaed (which is harder than it sounds because editing is basically my least favorite thing *hides*). We’re also writing another fic together, and we’re pretty far with that. Let me tell you, it’s just easier to get going when you have someone to write with. Especially someone as good as Cola.

On top of those two, I’ve written about 5k of Even’s POV of As I let you in. I still don’t know where it’s going and if it’s even going to be publishable, but it’s still in my thoughts. :)

I know this isn’t my usual positive reply, and I’m sorry about that, but I’m trying to get better so I’ll have more energy for doing stuff like writing. I hope you guys understand.

#I'm not done writing #but it's very slow going these days #i hope you guys will be patient with me #<3 #Anonymous

[beatricethecat2]

if/then (2.0) - 18 (new edit)

This is not a new chapter, instead a highly edited version of what came before, taking into consideration the notes given to me by a certain someone (you know who you are, thank you!) I did a crappy job initially because my head wasn’t in the game. Fast forward to now, after an absurdly busy spring work-wise, and I’m back to taking a crack at it all. I had to push this out to move forward, but the first draft of the next chapter is written and in edit mode so that’s proof the wheels are turning. And I am confident where this is now heading - so many twists and turns, so many little details to add, it’s never-ending. Quick recap: Helena revealed that she’s been working with Bonnie to keep Mrs. Frederic from framing Myka. A police interrogation ensued and Myka has no idea where it’s all heading. Typos are all mine, I’m sorry my mistakes are beyond what robots can correct. When that day comes we should all probably run for the hills. (see reply for link to previous chapters.)

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

"Hey Claud, I'm coming up." Myka pushes through the front doors but pauses in the lobby. “If you're there, text me or something, ok?” She smiles at the front desk guy as she ends the call.

“Hey Doug, you seen Claudia today?"

"Uh-uh. Just started my shift. Want me to ask Tony?" He picks up his walkie-talkie.

“That’s ok." Myka hurries past him as the elevator doors open. Two people step out as she steps in. She taps Claudia's floor and checks her phone, no reply, but she's not surprised. Every message she's left this week has gone unanswered.

Claudia should be home as it's late for a school night, but, no wait, it's already Friday. Maybe they're eating out or watching a movie really loudly. Or maybe Claudia's so miffed she won't pick up the phone.

Claudia's antics at the police station are still a conundrum to her, they could have been for show or totally sincere. After the harrowing group interview, she didn't see Claudia or Helena again, so she has no idea how clued in Claudia is. She'd feel more confident moving forward if she had talked to at least one of them. This holding pattern she’s in is making her paranoid.

The doorbell rings and rings, so she waits a beat, then knocks twice and inserts her key card. When she opens the door, Dewy whooshes out immediately.

"You don't want to go down there," she calls, dropping her bag and following him down the hall. She scoops him up near the stairs and walks back, holding on tightly as he squirms. She wedges her foot in the door and swings it open then crouches down to pick up her bag. Dewy wriggles free, but she blocks his second escape with her bag.

"Claudia? Christina?" she calls from the entryway. No reply, so she checks the bedrooms and terrace.

"Where's your moms?" she says to Dewy as he rubs up against her leg. He's purring so loudly she can hear him clearly from the floor. This level of affection must mean he wants something. She glances his bowl, it's completely empty.

"Let's get you some dinner, mister," she says and walks into the kitchen. Its surfaces are oddly clean, but the cat food cabinet is its usual mess. She sets the food on the counter then grabs Dewy's bowl. It could use a good cleaning before filling.

The sink is unusually devoid of dishes as they often linger for days. She checks the fridge, also sparse, but maybe Claudia hasn't gone shopping yet. An empty fridge is not as uncommon as a clean sink.

Dewy mews plaintively and Myka snaps back to her task. She opens the food bag and he hops up on the counter. "Dewy, chill!" she says and swipes him to the floor. He's way more anxious than she remembers.

As he eats, she strokes his head and rubs behind his ears, his purrs vibrating vigorously up her fingers. Such good cat, she thinks, so good-natured, and mostly well behaved. We're lucky to have him, even if he is a little dumb.

She looks towards her corner, then traipses through the living room, into her space. There's far too much stuff to take in one go so she'll have to divide it in two. She starts plucking out what she needs and laying it on the bed.

A picture of Helena hangs on the wall with one loose corner flopping forward. She drags a finger over Helena's likeness then peels it off. She studies the curve of Helena's lips as she sits on the bed.

"Would it be bad for you if I see them? I want to know they're ok. But I don't want mess this up for any of us." Second guessing her movements has already been difficult. Subterfuge isn't her strong point.

Dewy bounds into the room and jumps on the bed. He sits on his hindquarters and mews insistently.

"What's up?" Myka asks as he smushes his head against her, then drags his body in long strokes along her side. She rubs his head again, then swings her legs up and reclines fully, lying down. Dewy obviously wants the company, so she really should stay, if only for a few minutes longer than needed.

"You're lucky, Dewy. You can't fall in love. At least not the way humans do." She holds the photo of Helena at arm's-length and smiles. What a lovely day that was, laughing and lounging at the beach, with Helena beaming with positive energy. It’d be nice to get back to that happy place someday.

Dewy headbutts her cheek then flops on his side. She lays the photo on her chest and turns to look at him.

"She did this all for me, you know, but you don't know that means. I should be thankful, but…" She reaches over and scratches Dewy's belly. "I can't stop thinking about Bonnie."

Dewy claws at her wrist, lightly, as a warning. Myka yanks her hand away.

"Exactly! I don't know if I can trust her. But she's helping me, I guess. She's supposed to be an ally." She looks at the photo again, remembering the undercurrent: they were only pretending everything was ok. But if Helena knew that Mrs. Frederic planned to frame her then, was she already in cahoots with Bonnie? And was Bonnie's price a roll in the hay or is that the jealous girlfriend talking?

Dewy stands and turns, then lowers himself down, smooshing his back into Myka's middle. She scratches under his chin and turns on her side, pulling her knees up and hunching over to spoon him.

"She wouldn't do that to us, would she?" Dewy's purrs soar as she rubs behind his ears again. What lengths would Helena have gone to spare her? She skims a hand over Helena's pillow, smoothing a non-existent head print. She closes her eyes and summons Helena's form.

Helena often laid awake as the clock ticked toward her deportation. On those days, Myka would nudge her on her onto her side and spoon her from behind. She'd bury her nose into the bend of her neck, letting her warm breath graze over Helena's skin. When Helena would let out a whimper, she'd press kisses into her shoulder until Helena rolled over and kissed her back. And then quickly, but quietly, their bodies would meet, instinctively quelling each others lingering anxieties.

In comparison to now, those times seem simple; if only being deported was the worst of their fears. It's not fair their last night together was fraught resentment. She'd wasted precious time and energy being angry in Poland.

Dewy rises and blinks as she shifts to lie flat. He then settles into her armpit after a few turns. He lets out a huge yawn as Myka slips an arm around him. She yawns reflexively, then scratches his head.

"I wish I could stay and nap with you," she says as Dewy lays his head on his paws. "But I don't want to scare your moms when they get home. And, well, I probably shouldn't be here anyway." Myka turns to leave, but Dewy lays a paw on her arm. She slips it free. "Sorry, little dude. Say hi to them for me."

"I hope you're ok," she says to Helena's likeness as she plucks it off of the bed. She tucks it neatly into a bag and continues packing.

----------------

Myka's phone rings as she waits on the sidewalk for her Uber.

"Steve, hey!" She'd called earlier to ask about Claudia.

"You're back!"

"Yeah."

"Claudia's back, too?"

"She should be."

"Great! Then we don't have to feed Dewy anymore?"

"You're still feeding him?" A car pulls up to the curb with an Uber logo in its window. "Hang on a sec." Myka waves and points toward the trunk. After it pops, she throws in several overfilled tote bags and a garment bag. She slams the trunk closed and climbs into the back seat.

"Ok, back," she says to Steve, but gets no reply. "Steve?" She pulls the door shut and checks her screen; no service. The driver drives away as she waves the phone left and right.

"No use, dead zone," the driver says.

"There're no dead zones in New York," Myka snips. She scrolls through her settings and taps buttons, but to no avail. She glances at the driver, her voice is familiar, but her fair hair bunched up under a baseball cap doesn't give many clues. "Hey, your not..." She consults her app, but the phone won't connect. "I thought my driver was a dude."

"Change of plan," the woman answers. At a red light, she turns toward Myka. "You and I need to talk."

There's a thunk as Myka's phone drops. "B-B-Bonnie?” Bonnie's tone is deeper than she remembers. Plus the American accent threw her off.

"Morgana Kurlansky, Interpol," Morgana says, extending a hand over the seat. "Though apparently, you know that already."

"I, um..." Myka takes her hand and shakes it, limply.

"You should know, this whole business has gotten way out of hand. We're doing our best, but there are many loose ends."

"Am I a loose end?”

Myka jumps as a horn blares. Morgana turns back to the wheel and drives away.

Myka looks out the window to orient herself, is theist way to her apartment She feels trapped, too close to Bonn— Morgana, who is driving her who knows where. She yanks on the door handle as if to escape but the door doesn't budge.

"Child locks," Morgana says, then the locking lever clicks open. "Be my guest, jump out on the bridge." She motions forward toward the ramp they’re about to enter. “But I am taking you home."

Myka grimaces. Morgana knows where she lives, but then again, she probably has this whole time. To avoid Morgana’s smug gaze, she looks out the window, watching Coop Village fly by. It occurs to her that’s where Giselle lives, and if had she bailed, although it would have been complicated, she could have possibly run to her for help.

"Is Helena in jail?” If she’s stuck in this car then Morgana better pony up information.

"No. She's being monitored, held for questioning."

"Have you seen her?"

"I can't. Not as Bonnie Belski. But Helena's not alone, her daughter and friend are with her at home. Both are under our protection."

"They're in danger?"

"Potentially. MacPherson's a threat, but Mrs. Frederic's our main concern. We're worried she'll use Christina to force Helena's hand."

"She wouldn't do that," Myka says, "that's just wrong." Christina shouldn't be a pawn in this, ever.

"There's no limit to what she might do." Morgana glances at Myka in the rearview mirror. The sincerity in her eyes takes Myka aback.

"You and Helena…did you, really? You said you had proof.” Myka slumps back in her seat.

"What do you think?"

"I…I don't know," Myka says, narrowing her eyes.

Morgana mirrors the action. "Everything Helena's done has been to keep you in the clear. Do you think really she'd go that far?"

"No.” Myka looks down at her hands.

"She loves you, Myka. Remember that. Use your doubt wisely."

"What does that mean?"

"Go with your gut."

Myka groans. More cryptic bullshit. Great.

Blocks whiz by as Myka stews in silence. Too many questions swirl in her head.

"We have eyes on you, but stay on your toes. Has anyone at work asked about your trip?"

Myka mulls over her idle conversations. "Just normal stuff, like my show and Thanksgiving."

"Even Vanessa?"

"I've barely seen her."

"Steering clear until there's a verdict, hm. None of this is public yet."

"I know, I've looked." Myka stares at the back of Morgana's head as if that will force Morgana to divulge all. "How long will this last?” she asks when Morgana doesn’t continue.

Morgana drives on until a red light then turns to meet Myka's eyes. "There's no timeline I can give you. But if things go further south—"

"They could get worse?"

“—there's a contingency plan."

Myka scoots forward. "What is it?"

Morgana glances at the light then drives on.

"What about Christina's school? And Kenpo? And drum lessons?"

“All will be handled."

"Steve and Liam? Claudia's neighbors?"

"Claudia will be in touch."

"And if Steve asks what happened? What do I say?"

"You already know."

"I have to tell everyone Helena cheated on me?"

“That's the protocol.”

“There’s no other way?”

“This is the plan. How everyone stays safe."

Acting like a scorned lover is going to be difficult, but if it keeps Helena and Christina safe, she’ll have to do her best. "Do you really work or Interpol?" Myka asks as the car pulls up to the curb.

Morgana nods.

"And the other stuff Claudia dug up on you, is it true?"

"Don't forget your phone," Morgana says peering at the floor over the back of her seat.

Myka grabs it up then looks up at Morgana. Morgana's expression offers no answers, and while Myka could push, she’s unsure she wants an answer.

"Remember what I've said. And be mindful about what you say," Morgana warns. "This is a critical time and we all need to play our parts. Everyone's looking for faults, especially Mrs. Frederic. Be extra careful if she contacts you."

The remark stings like a slap in the face. It's still foreign Mrs. Frederic wants to hurt her and the ones she loves. "They're ok, right? All of them?"

“They’re fine, as far as I know," Morgana says. Her lips lift into a small smile, the first glint of hope Myka's gleaned this whole trip. "I'll be in touch when I can."

"Thank you," Myka says. She exits the car takes a few steps toward her building.

"Forget something?" Morgana calls.

Myka looks down at her hands, she has no bags. She walks back, shaking her head, cursing under her breath. The trunk pops open but the mass of stuff inside no longer seems as pressing. She unloads everything onto the sidewalk and Morgana drives away.

---------------

There’s no new news as December crawls to a close, exacerbating the dull, constant worry lodged in Myka’s gut. Lying to friends has left her questioning her every move, especially with Abigail, who innately knows when she's bending the truth. She's dreading meeting up with her after the holidays, worried she'll break down and divulge everything.

While she’s home for the holidays, there's little mention of Helena, except for her sister, who begs for details. Unable to stomach the tale in full, she babbles about visas and compromise, until Tracy seems appeased.

On Christmas afternoon, she hides upstairs, sifting through boxes her mom said to "take back with her." Nothing strikes her worth keeping, though lukewarm memories abound, displacing thoughts of Helena's whereabouts momentarily.

She’s weighing a vacation-related trinket’s worth when her phone buzzes, startling her into the present. The number on her screen's oddly long but her gut tells her to answer anyway.

"Hello?"

"Happy Christmas! Did you know they say that instead of Merry Christmas?"

"Christina?" Myka's heart leaps.

"It's Nadolaig Llawen in Welsh. Mom's been teaching me."

"Nadolay…huh?" The last word sounded like a phlemy version of "lawn."

"But on TV, everyone says Happy Christmas, and the Queen gave a speech to address 'her royal subjects!' Mom said I'm one of them, but Aunt Claudia's not because she's American."

"There was a war, back in the day. A revolutionary one. So she's right." Myka sags against the wall. They're ok; they're all ok. This is the best present ever.

"We opened Christmas crackers and mine had a hat, a bracelet, and a joke. Wanna hear the joke?"

"Sure!"

"Who delivers presents to baby sharks at Christmas?"

"I don't know."

"Santa Jaws!" Christina laughs like she doesn't have a care in the world. "Oh, oh, and we made fruitcake! Mom said the store-bought ones were gross but the one we made was kinda gross, too."

"I've never had fruitcake."

"Don't, ever, yuck!"

A mumbly voice sounds in the background. Christina says "Ok."

"Mom wants to talk to you."

"I want to talk to her, too."

"I wish you were here."

"So do I, honey."

"Merrrrry Christmaaaaas!" Christina says, words fading as the phone is passed on.

"Hello, Myka."

Those two words, spoken in that rich, velvety voice, make Myka's knees wobble. She swallows back a sob, pulling herself together, at least enough to reply. "D-Does this mean that you're..."

"Unfortunately not. There's been little movement since we last spoke. All that fanfare for such little gain."

"How are you calling?

"Many strings were pulled. A tantrum may have occurred. One in front of several key officers and not by Christina."

"Oh my." Myka pictures a distraught Helena pleading with suits with Claudia concocting a covert communication scheme in the background.

"You're at your parents, I assume?"

"Yeah."

"Good. You shouldn't be alone."

"Where are you—"

"How are you coping?"

"I'm…" Should she tell her how lying's been eating away at her soul and waking up without them every day is torture? "I'm managing ok, I guess. But it sucks, not knowing where you are or how you are."

"I apologize."

"It's not your…this is my fault. You did this for me.” And the weight of that's still sinking in. "It's just hard being here without you."

"As it is for us."

Myka tears up; bottling up the truth's taking its toll on her resolve. "I, um…I got that residency, in LA. I'm going in February. Unless you think I shouldn't."

Helena sniffs once then clears her throat, she must be affected, too. "Go on. Focus on your work. Move us into the background if possible."

"What if you come back while I'm gone?"

"That's highly unlikely."

"But it's already been a month. How long will this take?"

"As long as it needs to, so we all may be safe."

"I get it, it's just..." Myka pushes a box of out of the way and sits on the bed. "I'm being encouraged, 'for appearances,' to move to LA."

"By whom?"

"By Morgana."

"You've spoken?"

"Briefly. Twice."

“Good. I asked her to watch over you."

"I guess she is. Do you think I should go?"

"If she thinks it's best, perhaps consider it. I know it's a lot to ask."

"I have to move anyway because Charlotte and Bennett are leaving for London. And Vanessa introduced me to a museum there that has a job opening."

"Clever move. If she hands you off, you're no longer her problem. I imagine she's keeping her distance, riddled with guilt."

"Maybe, yeah. I don't know. It's been weird at work in general." Everyone keeps giving her these sad, concerned looks, and she's worried they know more than they're letting on. "A fresh start might be good, but I've never been to LA. I might hate it."

"It's awfully showy."

"You really think I should go? I want to be in New York when you get back, not on the other side of the country."

"Claudia will be back eminently, but Christina and I…"

"'Christina and I' what?"

"Christina and I will be moving on after the holidays."

"Moving on? Where?"

"Somewhere safe."

"You're not safe now?"

"We need somewhere permanent."

"You'll call me when you get there, right?"

"There'll be strict rules once we're settled."

“Settled.” Myka’s stomach sinks. "You mean witness protection."

"Myka—"

"For how long?" Myka yelps. "God, I sound like a broken record."

"We'll miss you terribly if that helps."

“Not really.” Myka drops her head into a hand. "This is bad, Helena. Really bad. What if I never see you again!"

"I won't let that happen."

"How?"

"Let's get through these next few months first."

“Months. Months!" Myka's hand curls into a fist. She looks around for something to hit, but nothing satisfying presents itself. "Does Christina know what's going on?"

"In as much detail as a highly intelligent eight-year-old can."

"She's almost nine, Helena. Nine! I'll miss her birthday. I don't want to miss her birthday."

"Nor do we want you to. You'll be there in spirit, I promise."

"What if—"

"Hold on."

There's mumbling in the background again.

"Please, not yet," Helena says.

More mumbling.

"They're saying I must go. The line's unstable."

As if on cue, the line crackles.

"Helena?"

"I'm here, love."

"Merry Christmas."

"Happy Christma—"

"Helena. Helena!" There's a click, then dead air, but Myka stays on the line. "I love you," she whispers as if the phrase will reach Helena anyway.

"Who ya talking to, sis?" Tracy says from the door.

“Tracy. Hi!" Myka swings around. "How long have you been there?"

"Just ran up. Mom's having a coronary because you haven't come down yet."

"Has she been calling?"

"Like a zillion times."

"Oh."

Tracy eyes Myka's phone. "What was that about?"

"Um..." Myka looks at the phone and lays it face down on the bed. “Abigail’s family's driving her nuts."

"Join the club." Tracy rolls her eyes.

Myka chuckles once, but it borders on a sob, her belly caving too sharply for mirth.

Tracy walks into the room and sits next to Myka. "This is a big one, huh? Got your heart broken, didn't you?"

Myka hangs her head.

"You'll get over it. You always do. I bet there's tons of hot girls in New York." Tracy punches Myka lightly on the arm.

"I might be moving to LA."

“LA? Oooh, that’s new."

“Myka! Tracy! Aunt Marjorie and Uncle Ted are here!" Myka's mom calls.

“Coming!” Tracy yells. “I’ll help you make it through dinner in one piece if you tell me everything after."

Myka answers with a shaky half-smile. “Ok. Deal."

-TBC-

#BERING AND WELLS #fanfiction #if/then #Myka Bering #Helena HG Wells #this is my first friday off from work #so why not fill it with fiction? #I tried to add way more suspense and emotion into this #i'm exited for the next chapters #especially the one after the next #the adventure these two end up on #will fun to flesh out

[nacsygen]

here’s a fun fact i haven’t shared that’s been going on for a LONG time: at my work, for our logins, we have to change our alphanumeric passwords every quarter.  after my first password, which i wasn’t thinking about beforehand so just used an old reliable of mine, i thought “hmm, well, this will be easier to remember if i have a system.  hey...17 has thirteen members, and i know their age order, bc that’s how i learned their names to begin with.  i can start with one based on seungcheol and go down the line, and if i get all the way to chan, well, i’ll know i’ve been at this job too fucking long.”

welp.  i’m on minghao now.

however, with the way life is going, it’s looking like seungkwan’s gonna be my last Password Boy...bc YA BOI IS MOVING TO ATLANTA

probably. most likely.  by early summer.

it occurs to me that while i often share anecdotes of the past, i don’t make many posts about my current circumstances.  considering this is a new account, with far fewer followers and mostly mutuals, i think i’ll be making more blog-style posts here now.

for those who are newer or just haven’t seen me mention it, i’m currently a scribe, a transcriptionist/editor, working out of an almost call-center-like office in a florida college town.  thankfully, having also done call center tech support work, the difference is we just process recordings.  (dealing with tech support was so stressful, i got fucking scabies at 23 and missed a month of work, but that’s a story for another day). being a scribe is a phenomenally boring and isolating job, for the most part, and one i am very good at.  it’s a very safe job for me, in a lot of ways.  it sucks and i hate it, as one can find with basically all scribes throughout history, but it also takes a very particular set of skillsets, ones i happen to have, that make it easy as fuck.  there’s good and bad. i set my own hours, within reason. there’s very little management meddling as long as i don’t fuck up. i can easily be a bit late and never have anyone talk to me about it as long as i get my hours done.  however, it’s physically painful to sit and type for hours and hours, and psychically damaging, i’m sure, to spend hours a day wishing i was doing something else, to be paid a pittance (but it’s still above minimum wage so i guess i should be grateful?) as a skilled and experienced laborer to type all day about other people’s money, regularly including people who make as much in a month as i do in a year.  on the other hand, my gods are some of the oldest and coolest (my favorites are seshat and nabu), and at this point, after almost 4,000 hours of doing this, i’d have to actively work to get fired.  it’s safe.  there’s no opportunity for advancement, there’s no sense of my time meaning something in the grand scheme of things, there is no meaning at all.  i am grease in the wheels of capitalism.  it robs me of the energy and prime writing hours to use my hands to put down my own words, not someone else’s.  but it’s safe.

my apartment’s getting sold out from under me in a few months, and i was initially panicking, thinking about how i could find new roommates, where i could live that would be easily accessible to my work without a car, even looking up info about the apartment complex next door to it - which, between work, home, and publix, would limit most my external world to about a square mile.

then i was at work earlier this week and realized...why am i having so much anxiety about being able to keep a job i fucking hate?

change is terrifying to me.  it’s part of my coping mechanisms with my untreated adhd, i’ve come to realize (with the help of  friends who have diagnosed adult adhd and are like no, yeah, you absolutely have it).  i have to keep a very regimented rhythm of life just to function at all, which took me way too far into my 20s to even figure out.  i need to wake up around the same time every day, get dressed to leave at the same time every day, make sure my wallet is in the outside pocket of my bag, my key is in the front pocket, i’ve got my publix bag rolled up in my purse (and now that it’s winter a hat and gloves just in case), and my umbrella (also just in case), and my tablet that was a gift from my beau (loaded up with pages to read offline while waiting for and on the bus), and a paper book or two (in case for some reason i can’t read on the tablet), and a snack for mid-shift so my stomach won’t spend all day hating me.  all of this i verify both before i leave my room and before i close the locked front door behind me, especially the wallet and key.  

if this sounds dreadfully mundane, please understand, i had to learn to make this a regimented routine, every step of which i need to consciously account for even while half asleep, or else i will forget something.  more than once this compulsive checking to make sure i have my wallet and my key a second time before locking the door has saved my entire day.  all that before even leaving the house.  i had to learn this on my own to quiet the constant racing anxiety that put me in the ER a couple years ago with an inability to even keep down food because i had no idea how to be a functioning independent person.  and so much of that is mentally tied to this apartment, to this job, bc at 26 years old a couple years ago, after over a decade of battling depression and adhd and finally getting treatment for the first, at least, i was finally equipped to and also forced to become an independent human being in a capitalist society.  and it was terrifying.  but routine is safe, now.  i do the same thing every day during the week, at the same times of day, and sleep in a bit on weekends and do nothing.  time passes and passes.  i invent games and new routines for the day, meaningful boxes to tick, just to establish meaning back into my life.

i’m getting too far off track.  sorry, it’s the adhd.

the point is, change is terrifying.  but my beau - sorry for the awkward term, but “beau” and “sweetheart” fit us better than bf and gf, especially considering gender and long-distance stuff - told me as soon as i told him the news about the apartment that i could always come to live with him. i dismissed it as last resort at first.  like, we’ve known each other for almost 10 years, more couple-y than ever the last two, and he visits me when he can.  we’ve never lived in the same city, but in a sense, we both were there to watch each other grew up, despite that we first started talking as friends when i was probably 19 or 20 and he was 31.  now i’m 28 and he’s 40.  he’s inspirational to me, because for a long time, he was living the kind of life i am now - working bullshit jobs that don’t mean anything, working and living to survive, scrounging meaning and joy in independent scholarship and pop culture.  but somewhere in his mid-30s, he changed the whole direction of his life to throw himself into a career in film production.  it takes an extraordinary amount of self-motivation, courage, fearlessness, energy, time, EVERYTHING to live the kind of life he does, living the freelance life, going from shoot to shoot all across the southeast, constantly on the hussle.  but he has a career.  he’s doing something amazing that he’s good at and he loves, and bc he’s about the most likable guy alive, he has contacts everywhere, through all levels of the industry. and he’s just about the most capable person i know.

so when i had my realization, why am i so worried about keeping this job i hate, i realized swiftly on its heels that i was just terrified of change.  i wanted to keep things safe, even if it was a marginal existence - still, a safe one.  but change can also bring opportunity.  moving in with him wouldn’t just be an act of charity on his part, but helping the person he loves to make a meaningful change forward in life.  Atlanta is the capitol of the South.  i could get a job in publishing in atlanta.  i could get a job in the film industry in atlanta (fun fact: georgia is now the center of film production on the east coast.  he knows a ton of people that worked on stranger things!). i could write for a living in atlanta.  i could be a script doctor like Carrie Fisher, i could edit for a living for more than some finance office’s memoranda ephemera, i could have a life where i was able to create, and not just in my spare time and for fun.  i could live in atlanta, and not just survive. my beau, as mentioned, has contacts everywhere, and has already hooked me up with a couple writer-type-creators in the industry to mentor me.  i can do it.  i will do it.  even my mom said i’ll do better there than in the waypoint city i’m in now (and also helpfully reminded me she rents uhauls now as part of her own self-owned business).

tl;dr either in april or june, depending on what i can convince my current fairly indulgent landlord on, i’ll be moving to Atlanta and starting a whole new life.  my beau has a two-bedroom (thank god, bc if i’ve learned anything from long-term moved-in relationships is that i need my space, and he also agrees on that on his end) and his place is less than a mile away from a publix and also a main bus line and a MARTA station, so i could be easily independent as a non-driver (important not just from a relationship standpoint, but also bc realistically he’s only home about a week out of a month, cumulatively). also, he has a cat! a tabby boy named dalek! bc he’s a fucking nerd!

#t #don't reblog / #i figure i'll have to get resigned to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing as introduced to others #i don't super mind it it just doesn't feel...accurate #but if it's necessary to avoid awkward conversations and lend legitimacy in shorthand to how much we very much do love each other #then sure #long post

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 06/02/2021 (Fredo’s Money Can’t Buy Happiness)

This is an odd, scattered week - a slow one thankfully for the day after my birthday - but we do have a bigger album bomb than I expected from Fredo, even if “drivers license” is still at #1 for a fourth week, blocking EDM remixes of sea shanties because of course, it’s the UK after all. Let’s just get back into REVIEWING THE CHARTS.

Rundown

Now, I predicted last week that Fredo would have two songs debut high up on the chart from his most recent album, Money Can’t Buy Happiness, and the pre-release single “Back to Basics” would rise to the top 10. That didn’t exactly happen, as “Back to Basics” actually dropped out of the chart off of the debut for being one of the lowest-performing Fredo tracks, or at least less successful than the three songs that debuted, as that’s all the UK Singles Chart allows. Speaking of drop-outs from the UK Top 75, they’re all mostly inconsequential, made up of recent debuts like “Wellerman” by the Longest Johns and “Bad Boy” by the late Juice WRLD and Young Thug. In terms of notable drop-offs, we do have some arguably premature falls for minor hits, like “champagne problems” by Taylor Swift, “Body” by Megan Thee Stallion, “Lonely” by Justin Bieber and benny blanco, and, finally, “Diamonds” by Sam Smith. This is a slow week outside of the top 40, so we just have some spare oddities to cover outside of the drop-outs. For our fallers, we have “34+35” by Ariana Grande fading its remix boost at #14, “Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish at #30, “SO DONE” by The Kid Yaoi at #52, “All I Want” by Olivia Rodrigo at #54, “Lo Vas A Olvidar” by Billie Eilish and ROSALÍA at #64 off of the debut and a couple real crashes at the tail-end of the top 75, those being “Holy” by Justin Bieber featuring Chance the Rapper at #71, “WAP” by Cardi B featuring Megan Thee Stallion at #72, “Notorious” by Bugzy Malone featuring Chip at #73 and “Dynamite” by BTS at #75. This may explain the otherwise inexplicable returns for songs that are always clinging onto the back half of the chart, like “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac at #74, “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran at #70 and, incredibly, “Mr Brightside” by the Killers at #68, the highest it’s been in a while (and that’s a feat considering how long it stays on the damn chart). For gains, we’re really not picking up much traction here. Sure, “Baby Shark” by Pinkfong is back at #73 for some reason, but otherwise we just have middling songs with middling gains, like “Martin & Gina” by Polo G at #61, “Take You Dancing” by Jason Derulo at #59, “Watermelon Sugar” by Harry Styles rebounding to #44, “Your Love (9PM)” by ATB, Topic and A7S making a surprising and scary gain to #42 (and I’ll admit, I’ve warmed up to it quickly), “i miss u” by Jax Jones and Au/Ra clawing back in the top 40 at #39, “Friday” by Riton, Nightcrawlers and Musafa & Hypeman dopamine re-editing itself up to #24 (Please don’t make this a hit) and finally, “Streets” by Doja Cat continuing its rise up to #12. Oh, yeah, and “Skin” by Sabrina Carpenter is down to #41 off of the debut but everyone’s forgotten about that song considering how big “drivers license” still is, so yeah, let’s just get to our new arrivals, because we do have some interesting things to touch on this week.

NEW ARRIVALS

#66 – “Higher” – Clean Bandit featuring iann dior

Produced by Mark Ralph, Grace Chatto and Jack Patterson

Well, they made a song with 24kGoldn, and that was awful, so... I guess it’s Puerto Rican emo-rapper iann dior’s turn. They might as well remix “Mood” while they’re at it. Instead of Mabel filling in for the singing where 24kGoldn couldn’t on “Tick Tock”, however, we have honestly a less charismatic singer in iann dior playing all the parts, without a rap verse to speak of. Okay, so this could work if he just fills in the spot of generic anonymous singer, and it fits exactly within that mold if he wants to, even though that’ll take away any of the character he had – not that any of that character was likeable or interesting, but hey, baby, he is not your dad, so maybe he’ll blend in well with Clean Bandit’s decreasingly unique production. This is a tropical EDM track where iann dior’s non-existent range and raspy, uncaring tone zaps the energy out of the touches of steel drums and orchestral stabs. This drop is nothing more than a vocaloid loop, and a pathetic one at that, with iann dior’s really gross falsetto proving that Auto-Tune can’t really fix bad singing, not that it needed to be proven. The lyrics here are nothing to write home about, wrapping a love song with ocean metaphors probably just so he can say “I’mma get her wet, oh, baby, then slide”... Gross. There’s like zero build-up to this drop at all as well, so there’s no stakes, no climax, and hence not a good EDM track. Come on, Dan Smith of Bastille wrote this, can’t he get the lead vocal? At least it would sound competent.

#63 – “Grown Flex” – Chip featuring Bugzy Malone

Produced by the Fanatix

Ah, my favourite duo. Apparently this is from a Chip album that I didn’t even know existed, thankfully because it’s 21 tracks, over an hour, with two consecutive Young Adz features. “Grown Flex” is another collaboration with Bugzy Malone, probably here because of the video and the sample of iconic UK bass tune “Heartbroken” by T2, one of the most popular songs in that wave of EDM and a pretty damn great song. It has been sampled before by people like DJ Khaled and Drake but no-one’s made a better song, so maybe these formerly feuding Londoners can make a good song with this sample as the base? That isn’t a question actually, but if it was, the answer would be no. They pitch up the (honestly ahead of its time) vocaloid loop, and put an obnoxious UK garage-adjacent drum loop over it that’s barely on beat with all of the chiptune sound effects distracting from Chip’s also off-beat flow. The chorus is really awkward, with him being off-beat and uncredited female vocal backing vocals with entirely different vocal processing coming in and sounding equally janky. This beat isn’t broken inherently, it could work but it’s too shrouded in these two rappers void of personality. Bugzy Malone is here but his rough tone does not work on this beat, regardless of how much he wants to pretend there’s any melody to his drawl with the Auto-Tune and multi-tracking. He’s still somehow the best part though because, yeah, this is just... incredibly awful. The production is onto something by the end with the horns coming in but they immediately fade out and eventually it just abruptly cuts to some pointless chiptune beeping sounds that have been there the whole time but play alone right at the end for no reason. This is aggravating, I know I’m pretty much nit-picking but there’s nothing of substance to pick apart here anyway. This is pure incompetence and a butchering of a good sample... that they should be allowed to use freely, though, by the way. Abolish copyright law.

#62 – “Ride for Me” – B Young

Produced by Mike Spencer and Pacific

Since everyone seems to have forgotten how to actually make music this week, at least we can always count on B Young... okay, no, but at least he’s given up on trying to be a rapper or R&B singer at this point, as a lane of generic guitar-pop probably would work best for the guy’s voice. I mean, we have an acoustic loop here that sounds like it’s jacked straight from a Shawn Mendes demo. At least the incompetence here is charming, with his rougher vocals being a pretty nice contrast from the otherwise kind of ugly mixing, especially on the flat percussion. I do like the lyrics here, as he’s simply love-struck and enjoys the company of this woman, for more than just sex and appearances. He just hopes that things don’t change and the relationship lasts forever. Sure, it’s shallow but it seems genuine. Sure, there’s some drug references and him being pushy to ask her for no make-up, though it does come off as just enjoying her presence instead of any stuck-up preference, especially since he offers his tracksuit and they end up watching some crap Netflix original film. Yeah, this is just a sweet track if nothing else. Since I did do a full song review for his song “Jumanji” years back, I feel a weird sense of almost parenthood for this guy, like I’ve seen him grow and finally he’s made a good song, even if it’s a bit out of his wheel-house. He’s never not been genuine, just only now that’s given him some more likeability, even if it’s just to make a cute love song. He sounds like a good boyfriend, and that’s really the appeal of the song, so, yeah, good job. I’m honestly kind of surprised.

#60 – “Gravity” – Brent Faiyaz and DJ Dahi featuring Tyler, the Creator

Produced by DJ Dahi

This is the most frustrating song I’ve heard this year so far, I’m almost fascinated by it. Before we get into that, I’d like to say that it’s good to see Brent Faiyaz finally debuting a song relatively high, and this is DJ Dahi’s first ever credited UK Singles Chart entry, although he’s produced top 40 hits before for Kendrick Lamar. Faiyaz has been a bubbling artist in R&B for the past few years, and honestly he might have had the most successful career off of the three artists that propelled themselves off of the back of “Crew” with GoldLink and Shy Glizzy. It was a minor hit that ended up producing no rising stars until around five years later, where we have a genuine hit potentially coming from the guy who sung the chorus, of course with some help from Tyler, the Creator. I do think this song is good but owes a lot to that to the production and charisma of our artists, as I can pick this apart way too easily for my taste. This beat is good, with some incredible guitar work from Steve Lacy as he would always deliver, but feels very aimless, especially with the pointless air horns in the background that if anything distract from Brent Faiyaz, who needs room to breathe. I mean, he’s an R&B singer, of course he does. The beat takes certain left turns during the verses that seem like meanders and if it’s not deflating any of its groove for the sake of guitar loops, it’s got this really tense percussion that does not work for the content or performances here, which are both pretty checked-out, especially Tyler, who’s as stiff as always but without any really interesting lyrical moments or a shift of flow. It’s one of his worst verses in my opinion, and he really goes in one ear and out the other with how short it is, which surprises me because of how Tyler usually either steals the show or meshes really well with his collaborators. So, our two performers are mostly checked-out with little to no chemistry, and the beat is awkward and unfitting for the content, which is about them being brought back down to Earth by their loved ones, hence the name, despite their travel habits due to touring – which isn’t a thing that’s happening right now at all, so maybe this’ll be a slow burn hit before it can really resonate. If we listen to these lyrics more closely, we also don’t get the sense that Brent Faiyaz is even likeable here, as we have no reason given for this woman to not feel uncomfortable that he’s paying little attention to her. Instead, Faiyaz just comes off a dismissive ass to this undeserving woman who is reasonably upset at the lack of time spent with him. It’s never made clear that she’s pestering him, so I honestly don’t get how Faiyaz wants to frame this. It doesn’t help that Tyler has the opposite reaction, longing for his partner when he’s on tour instead of feeling annoyed by her, but ultimately with no interplay so this means nothing. Oh, and if the songwriting weren’t janky enough, the chorus is barely catchy and covered in pitch-shifted multi-tracking that takes any of the focus off of Brent Faiyaz, who’s constantly crushed by backing vocals, being pitched down for no reason with unnecessary censor bleeps when they both swear freely at other points in the song. This type of maximalist production works but only when there’s any grandiosity to make it feel warranted, and if there isn’t that, the gunshot percussion is out of place and there ends up being a lot of empty space. There’s nothing smooth about this, and that’s frustrating as you’d expect these three to bring a really relaxed tune with some great 70s soul vibes and... I mean, that’s obviously what they’re going for here, but it is painfully over-produced and ultimately immensely disappointing. I can see people enjoying this a lot but no, this doesn’t work for me at all. Sorry.

#45 – “Dancing on Ice” – Yxng Bane featuring Nafe Smallz and M Huncho

Produced by Don Alfonso and Quincy Tellem

Oh, Jesus Christ, these guys again... and Yxng Bane, I guess. So, you know what the deal is with this UK ‘trap-wave’ type stuff, right? There’s a vaguely interesting synth loop drowned out by cheap percussion and crap bass mastering, as well as awfully processed vocals from everyone involved. They can trade verses, but more often than not don’t say anything that doesn’t embarrass themselves. You get a sense of really toxic masculinity, misogyny and materialism without any charm in their delivery, inflections or wordplay – which is usually non-existent. Here, it’s not any different. Yxng Bane has some good melodic flows – and I really like his line about his Rolex Presidential Watch being discontinued but since he’s “going Donald”, he wears it anyway – but he also threatens... presumably the listener with gay conversion therapy in the first line of the verse, so all good will’s lost. Nafe Smallz sounds better than usual but his nasal flow is still whiny and insufferable, and M Huncho is here to waste time and sound bad doing it, although he’s probably the least worst sounding vocally out of these three clowns. I misread his line about his rucksack being heavy as “nutsack”, and that’s all the positive engagement I could claw out of this. I ask this every time but honestly, who listens to this?

#21 – “Ready” – Fredo featuring Summer Walker

Produced by Mojam

Much like the end of a Morrisons sweet aisle, past this point, it’s all Fredo. Admittedly, I didn’t end up listening to the record but I have heard a select few songs, this being one of them, and I’m not really a fan. I do like the eerie loop but it seems a bit unfitting for a triumphant flex song emphasising a rags-from-riches narrative, especially since the mix really crushes both Fredo and Summer Walker in this blend of boring skittering trap percussion and the ambiance, making her hook impact a lot less. Fredo’s verses are pretty damn heartfelt, I’ll admit, and I really like his lines about pleading with God that he should be let into Heaven. In fact, Fredo’s bars are pretty consistently great, focusing on how his criminal past in the streets of London refuses to escape him despite his efforts to make it out using rap, and by the end, he sounds pretty defeated when he says, “Yeah, I’m lonely, but that’s just a player’s life”. Honestly, for a song that initially builds itself up to be a triumphant flex song, it ends up just being kind of sad, and that’s fine, more fitting for the instrumental but it really makes the hook feel even more out of place. Ah, well, the song’s fine, really, just a blend of ideas that never really stick the landing together.

#18 – “Burner on Deck” – Fredo featuring Pop Smoke and Young Adz

Produced by RicoRunDat and Yoz Beats

Now this is what I want from Fredo. Now, this is posthumous in Pop Smoke’s case but it’s far from an unexpected feature, as whilst this is one of his first UK drill collaborations, Pop Smoke was known for his pioneering of the New York style of London’s grittier, more menacing drill music, and even named Fredo and Young Adz as some of his favourite rappers. Okay, so he had questionable taste – I mean, Young Adz? - but Pop Smoke felt more of a connection between New York and London beyond just instrumentals, with a shared slang, street culture and arguably most importantly, inequality. This is all cited from a Complex interview, by the way, but you can tell even from his music what a great respect he had for British hip-hop, especially considering his main producer, 808 Melo, is from London. The song itself is pretty great too, relying on these spacey synth loops that build up with more eerie keys before finally crashing into an intense drill beat, with all artists sharing the Auto-Tuned hook, but Young Adz probably shining the most in how he plays off of Pop Smoke’s deeper, rich voice with his nasal whine. The lyrics may be generic gunplay and flexing, but the delivery saves it for me, with Fredo enthusiastically shouting out Gorillaz of all people, and the chorus being way smoother than it would usually be for a drill track, as well as being really catchy. Pop Smoke absolutely kills it here, going with his typical stiff, fast-paced flow for a verse that is really short but just as powerful as he usually delivers. You can tell this was made for this track as well from the interplay on the hook and him shouting out Young Adz in his verse. Fredo pretty much completes the second verse by chiming in and showing more of the charm I enjoy from him as he mentions coughing the bar before he coughs for basically an entire bar. It caught me off-guard at full listen and it still leads in perfectly to the oddly-mixed sombre piano that comes in for the final hook. With a better mix – and even then, it kind of works without it – and maybe some extended verses from both London and New York drill artists, this could bang even harder. Maybe for a remix, this beat could bring the best out of Swarmz, DigDat, AJ Tracey, Hardy Caprio, Tion Wayne, Fivio Foreign even... I could go on, this could be a great posse cut. As it is, it’s still pretty damn good, and again, rest in peace to the late Pop Smoke.

#3 – “Money Talks” – Fredo featuring Dave

Produced by Dave

At first, I was surprised this debuted at #3, which seems high for a British rap track, but then I remembered that the last time these guys collaborated on a single it debuted at #1 without an album attached, and it helped that “Funky Friday” is also a great song, admittedly something I didn’t think at the time. It does make perfect sense that this debuts so high, especially since this album was actually executively-produced by Dave, so given these guys’ track records together and alone, I did expect something great, and, well... okay, so instead of a drill beat as this pretty vocal sample would be fit for, as would the flows, we get a lightweight trap beat with odd vocal and bass mixing. Admittedly, the 808 slides here are pretty excellent, but that’s the only shred of intricacy I see here, which is usually commonplace in Dave’s production. There’s also simply not enough consistency or variety here to make it worth the four and a half minutes, with the chorus being awkward if anything. There’s less depth to the rags-to-riches stories here, with Fredo probably giving more commentary than Dave does, which seems odd but fitting for how checked-out Dave is here. There’s just a resounding lack of anything to this song other than a boring beat and performances that could be a lot sharper and interesting. Sure, Dave flexes his technical piano skill by the end but the beat had already run dry by about two extra minutes before that – this could have run through your second verse, Dave, or you could have added a bridge instead of repeating the chorus. I do like some of the lines here that are obviously more personal and introspective, like Fredo’s conflict with the justice system and Dave explaining how he got robbed when he was a child and to cope with the trauma of this, he started toting weapons. I guess the EastEnders reference is funny but it just reminds me of DigDat making a similar cocaine joke with arguably funnier source material on “Guten Tag”. Yeah, this could be a lot better but it’s not offensive and hey, it’s competent at least. I mean, it’s Dave, it won’t be anything less, just a tad disappointing. I mean, come on, “coochie freshly shaven, man’s got expectations”?

Conclusion

This week is so disproportionately male, huh? Ironically as I say that, none of the women represented here – in the form of soulless EDM production and boring guest feature – get Best of the Week, as that’s going to Fredo’s “Burner on Deck” featuring the late Pop Smoke and, yes, Young Adz, with an Honourable Mention to B Young of all people for “Ride for Me”. Worst of the Week will obviously go to Chip and Bugzy Malone for the pathetic “Grown Flex”, with a tied Dishonourable Mention this week going to both “Dancing on Ice” by Yxng Bane featuring Nafe Smallz (for being gross and offensive) and “Higher” by Clean Bandit featuring iann dior (for being remarkably inoffensive). Yeah, Brent Faiyaz and Tyler are safe there but that’s still a fascinatingly bad song, though I don’t think I’ll make any friends with that opinion. Anyway, here’s the top 10 for this week:

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed and want more of my cacti-branded rambling, follow me on Twitter @cactusinthebank. I can’t make any predictions for next week that aren’t depressing, but we may have to discuss death and politics next episode if a certain song gets renewed traction. Happy times. See you next week!

[all-good-things-dot-dot-dot]

All Good Things… The Good With the Bad.

All Good Things… The Good With the Bad. #Blog #Bloggerstribe #AllGoodThings… 24th June 2020 Hello, Chaps and Chapettes,

(Source: https://www.keengamer.com/articles/guides/list-of-common-fallout-4-pc-errors-and-how-to-fix-them/ ) It might have seemed like I stopped for a little bit there, huh? In actual fact, I have still been writing, but more or less in the background rather than doing a full-on post like this. Does that mean I’ve been “neglecting my duties” or “forgetting the challenge” I set myself to write for thirty minutes a day? Well, sort of. I cannot lie. Let’s see if we can analyze what happened here and correct the error, shall we? The main hiccup was actually on Friday where I did not write anything at all. I did end up writing that blog on Saturday and followed it up with the actual Saturday blog which I wrote and posted on Sunday, but by then I was already going back on several guidelines that I’d set myself. The first was to ensure that I wrote thirty minutes a day, this was missed on Friday, and the second was to have a break on Sunday.

I’ll come back to Friday in a bit and how I’ll resolve that in the future but I also want to talk about why Monday and Tuesday also didn’t happen. Monday was an oddly exhausting day. The heat has been creeping up this week, today being the hottest so far, but Monday was still cool. I had to take a nap after work and then when I did sit down to write, what I wanted to write was not one of these. Instead, I wanted to work on “Scoundrels”, a story about colorful ponies living in apocalyptic times. They swear, take drugs, shoot guns, it’s fun to write. The reason I wanted to write that, was because on Tuesday I attended an online workshop by a fellow writer who goes by the codename “Somber”. I know there’s non-bronies who read this on my Tumblr so, to summarise, they wrote a particularly famous FanFiction called “Fallout Equestria; Project Horizons”, millions of peeps have read it. It’s also a spin-off from an equally successful story called “Fallout: Equestria” (written by another fanfiction writer, KKat). Somber has a background teaching English so a class on Creative Writing was practically extra studies for my university course!

(Art by me, see https://derpibooru.org/images/2200843 )

The workshop was brilliant. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to workshop my story as we ran out of time but I didn’t feel too down about this. I made friends with a few other fellow writers and so could happily learn and share ideas with them. This ran on quite late and by the time it had ended, the clock was telling me I wouldn’t wake up for work if I didn��t attempt to sleep. That, neatly, leads me to today. As you can see, although I’ve had a busy day of work, walking to and from the shops and watching “Game Night” with my brother, I still managed to find the time to write this. That’s because tonight I had the time. That’s important. Friday, the time wasn’t there. I had to be there for a friend who was in need and since my chat, I have it on good authority that their life is looking up. Sunday was father’s day and I wanted to see both dad and stepdad, which I accomplished. Both men had a great day and felt loved, which was another mission accomplished. Sunday night was blitzed by a migraine and it took two paracetamol two hours to put those fires in my brain out. Monday, as said, was a very tiring day. But I also spent time writing something, even if it wasn’t this. So there was still something completed by the close of the day. Tuesday, there was work, I had my mother pop over for something, I had to cook dinner, and despite all of this still managed to make Somber’s workshop and find writing allies. Do you see where I’m going with this? Basically, just because you don’t get done what you wanted to do, do not look at it as a wasted day. Even a rest day is a success, so long as it is used to let you prepare for some harder work ahead. You are not failing if you didn’t hit that word count, or forgot to do something you wanted to do, or missed that walk to slim down the spare tractor tyre your gut has become. Even little accomplishments are still a win in the grand scheme of things and believe me they make all the difference. And sometimes, if someone you know, care about, or love is in need of you, then you should down tools to help them. Let me reiterate that it should be somebody you care about or at least someone who will return the favor along the line. There are people, even family, who can be a drain on your time, resources, and energy. I learned that the hard way last week (see my blog about bullies). Follow your head in these instances, especially if it is aligned with your heart. Most of all, I want you to take this away with you. Did you wake up today? Do you know how many didn’t get out of bed? Pulled a sickie? Or gave up? You didn’t so in that sense you’re already winning. Now go treat yourself to some cake, champ, you earned it. Stay safe, stay happy. All good things, Love, Scaramouche. X Oh, eerrrr, still here? Okay, let me square with you. Thirty mins just ran out but I wanted to include this; I am writing a spin-off of that “Fallout: Equestria,” series too, as I mentioned, called “Scoundrels”. I did have a lot of the story already up in my FIMFiction library, but I have unpublished it. Here are my reasons; I didn’t like how confusing it was. It felt like it started in the middle of a story. I had made choices as a writer that took the story in some strange directions. I made the plot too complicated. I made some of the good characters unlikeable. I made it too long while not much/ too much happened. So, I am holding onto what I wrote. I want to rewrite it, so that story that you may or may not have read does still exist and isn’t a waste of time, it just needs surgery. When it’s ready, you’ll be able to see it again. Until then, here’s a sneak peek at “Scoundrels”, the ponies of the apocalypse story I will be writing, have edited and polished before I publish it as fanfiction. Enjoy!

(Artist: Brainiac - see https://derpibooru.org/profiles/Brainiac ) ~ Scoundrels Written by Scaramouche “War,” a voice, masculine and gravelly, haunted my hangover. “War never changes.” It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stir me from where I’d attempted to make my early grave. My snout had the telltale feeling you got when you accidentally snorted water while submerged in a pool... Or hit too much Dash. I pushed my hooves out around me before my eyes were able to open and felt tiny canisters rattle away from me wherever I moved. My ribs hurt, telling me I hadn’t found a nice or even barely comfortable place to flop. The information fed back to me from all my senses came to the conclusion that I’d bucked up again. Daring to wake, I cracked my eyes open for as long as I could muster and fluttered the lids ‘til I could make out the shapes of a flickering square of light in the night-time room. Black and white images flashed through the screen of ponies dressed in armor and uniforms, those in the foreground attempting an escape with their wounded while the “best and bravest” continued to fight, to injure, to die. The image changed to Wonderbolts tearing over a coal cloud that once belonged to a shining city. I realized it was Manehattan, the place I’d hailed from. I knew from the shadow of a building topped with a huge pony head choking on the fumes. The Pegasi just seemed like haunting crows over that havoc. After the Manehattan skyline lingered for a few seconds, it switched to a shot taken behind ponies hiding from the invisible foe in a shady tunnel. Their silhouettes were huddled and perpetually expecting the worst of what was to come. Image after image along with the low, tedious voice seemed to mingle with the throbbing headache I’d gained. It reminded me that as gloomy as these images were, they were only the precursor for the apocalyptic times that came after them. I watched, laid lazily on my side among spent stims I’d used to forget the woes of the new world. I couldn’t help thinking that those dumb saps who had lived nearly a hundred years ago never knew how lucky they were. They could still trust the folks either side of them and that was more than could be said for most ponies this side of a century. “... But out of the devastation that arose from the wars, a few were able to reach stables that could house and shield them underground.” The narrator of the scenes kept going with his spiel regardless of whether I was listening or not. I looked about, but it quickly became apparent to me that the voice was just that. A recording from a stallion no doubts long gone now. There was nopony else in the place but for me that I could see. Nonetheless, he persisted. “Your family was part of that group and took refuge in Stable Thirteen.” On-screen, a snap of the giant cog that had once locked up this subterranean vault could be seen. “No, they weren’t, pal,” I grouched, squinting about the area still while battling with some persistently annoying amber locks of mane in my eyes. Something in this place was still trying to live, based on the squealing of a harmed fan spinning in the walls. Thanks to the projection lamp, I could see the tiles that dripped from the ceilings as age and erosion pulled them down. Wires knotted into nooses hung out from the ceiling gaps. Across dirty, rusted floors, the corpses of chairs lay on their sides and backs, stricken by the last unknown executions that had taken place here. Near me and my graveyard of used drug containers, a card crate lay on its side in a beaten state. “You are the first generation born in this stable to have not known the-the-the--” Apparently, I still wasn’t to know what “the” was. Above me, the box that had created this depressing light and sound show for me fizzed, crackled, sparked, then died. All light failed and draped a veil casually over me and space. Yet, this wasn’t as terrifying to me as might have been to somepony else. I sighed, relaxed, and let the gentle black patch encourage my head to heal. The festering stable was dead, the complaining sounds of the vents now a memory, and it was good. It was calming. I could maybe forget everything and fall back into a graceful slumber with it. After all, a ship in the harbor is a ship that’s safe... Of course, fate intervened. “Breeze! Breeze, where are you?” The voice was distant, but it was growing closer. “Gypsy Breeze, I swear on the spirit of Celestia, if you don’t get your ass into gear…” Fresh, battery-powered light began to dawn around the edges of the forever-open doorway into the corridors, confirming that the calling, living voice wasn’t far from finding me. “Buck,” I grunted to myself and pushed back the pain sloshing side to side in my cranium. I had to get myself up before they found me and the evidence littered around me. My legs complained but lifted me, allowing me to stand and let my brain cease paddling about in my skull. I swung a hoof out, brought it down, then my face immediately met the oxidized floor once more as a giggling Dash inhaler tripped me and twirled away. “Breeze?” They’d heard my tumble. “Buck,” I hissed painfully and scrambled back up, firing up a spell. I knew the caller in the halls would see the light but hoped I’d be quick enough. Despite the magic throbbing behind my junked-out eyes, I gathered all the emptied Dash I could see in the enchanted light. Catching as many as I could levitate, I shoved them into the deteriorated box, managing to slip the last of them away when a blinding orb swung through the door. I covered my bleary eyes and snarled out at a feeling only a vampire pony in the baking sun would understand. “Gypsy!” The dazzling sprite squeaked. “That’s my name— Buck, Hayfever, could you drop the light of that thing? My bucking eyes are about to explode…” mercifully, the beam lowered to ground level, allowing me to partially see the mare I knew behind it. Her sunset orange wings were spread in preparation to once more admonish me while the expression on the pegasus remained concerned. “You split from me again, Breeze. Ottawa said this stable is particularly dangerous, we shouldn’t be going off alone when--” “Ottawa was wrong,” I skulked somehow towards the door and waved my hoof back the way she’d come from. “I caught a terminal back up that way and… I dunno, something about the water talisman failing? Either way, the pony meant to fix it shuffled out the main door, and never came back. After that, the rest of the dwellers overthrew the overstallion and let themselves out of their own accord. Probably likely that nopony’s been here since.” If I’d have sounded more sure of myself in that last comment, I might not have seen doubt spread across her freckled, gold-lit face. “No, somepony has been here before us,” she suggested, “I found the mattresses pulled out of their rooms and laid together in the atrium. There was waste and broken gear that could only have come from outside too. Could be scavs, could be raiders, either way, we don’t want to take our chances.” “It could have easily been the Stable Thirteen ponies too,” I countered, “especially if they were going back and forth in and out of here, not wanting to--” I interrupted myself, as a false step kicked something, which ricocheted off of the metal wall and swirled unfortunately into the light of Hayfever’s torch. It only took her a second to realize what it was and I was already cringing guiltily when the light raised back accusingly at me. “Gypsy Breeze, you silly mare,” she scolded as well as any experienced mother could, “Using? Again? I thought you were beating this.” “It’s not mine,” I played the part of a lying teenager as best as I could, “it’s from those raiders you were bitching about--” “Oh, so now we believe in the raiders?” She had another quick examination of the inhaler and sighed, ruffling her wings in irritation as she walked past me, ensuring her hoofsteps echoed her annoyance. “When I agreed to hide your troubles from the rest of Helping Hooves, it was on the promise that you were going to make an effort to quit from them. Not so that you could privately indulge in the stuff.” She collected my saddlebag, discarded on a spineless chair, and was about to toss it to me when she had second thoughts. At my protests, she flipped the flap open first and rifled through up, digging out what she had expected to find almost instantly. Five more full inhalators of Dash were plucked out and tossed into the void of the room before she was comfortable returning my near-empty sack to me. “I’m not doing it to be an ass to you, Gypsy,” she said as I mournfully took the bag and slipped it back on. “As mayor of Helping Hooves I have a duty to look out for everypony and that includes you. But if you’re going to endanger lives this way, I’ll have no choice but…” I waited for what kind of penalty she’d place on me. Yet, all she could do was gaze at me, not mad, just disappointed. I gave a low groan, both out of the pain of coming down and the guilt of letting down a mare who was just looking out for my best interests. “Can we just get out of here?” I pleaded, “the air in here is making me feel sick.” “You sure it’s just the air?” She thrust a hoof forward, directing me on the way to head next. “But you’re right. Let’s just get the spark batteries Ottawa needs and high-tail it out of here…” To be continued...

(Source: https://thegeek.games/2020/03/24/fallout-3-war-war-never-changes-retro-2008/ )

#fallout #blog #writing #challenge #brony #equestria #my little pony #friendship #new vegas

[gogularaajan]

VIRUS MAIRUS

7 mins 40 seconds directed by Gogularaajan written by Shanjhey Kumar Perumal and Gogularaajan dop by Kumanavannan

Short Synopsis : 

When Neelakandan needs a drink, he will get it no matter what. The short film follows his struggle of trying to score some alcohol amidst the MCO in Malaysia due to the recent outbreak of the Covid-19 virus.

PROCESS :

1. THE BIRTH

We were hunting ideas for the #KumanPicturesChallenge and on 30th March 2020, Shanjhey came up with an idea in our “Sarang Naga” Whatsapp group. He showed us a picture and asked us to guess what the story would be. 

Picture 1 : Whatsapp conversation of Shanjhey, Palani and Gogu.

It’s a story about an alcoholic middle-aged man and his fearful, impulsive journey in search of alcohol, leading him to lose his mind and resort to drinking Dettol. Once we have this, Shanjhey did efficient writing that contains all the important details and structure of the story. This served as a strong base for us to write the screenplay..

Picture 2 : Draft written by Shanjhey. I went on with my ugly scribblings on it.

2. THE WRITING

At first, though I liked the idea, I could not connect myself to the story, it took some time for me to finally personalize this idea. A lot of questions hunted my mind: is it necessary to celebrate the life of an alcoholic? what is the urgency? how well do I know this man? will this be a representation?

My energy was almost drained of all these questions, and at the right time, my friend Shoban (a director himself) came to rescue. Shanjhey shared with him our idea, and Shoban instantly loved it. Shoban stressed that this is a story that should be told. That’s when we realized, that the story has its own spark and purpose, and we shall give it a shot. His words started my engine back.

#Philosophy : I tried to make sense of the story. And also draw its relation to suit the Challenge’s criteria which is horror :

what is horror? it might differ from person to person. but to me, it is basically fear. and fear is not just limited to ghosts or supernatural elements. Fear is broad and has many ways to manifest itself. In real life, there are much worse horrors happening, day to day. this story is also such horror, which is way too common in Malaysian Indian's lives. a man who is willing to do whatever to get his bottle of beer might sound too absurd and unreal to some, but it is, in fact, a very common reality for Malaysian Indians. This is in our blood, ingrained, customized for years. This is how we have been enslaved for years by different powers. when we were in the plantations, they gave us alcohol to calm us down and stray us from our real problems. a quick fix that can melt down our need to revolt or claim our rights. and this condition still persists until today, just that it has taken different forms.

this is my fear reflecting on the society, and also the character (Neelakandan’s) fear of not being able to control his spiking impulsive desire.  i think the most horrific thing that can happen to oneself is when one loses control of himself, or worst when something is taking control of his consciousness. 

I also intentionally wanted to stay outside, at the commentary viewpoint, and not indulge. I wanted a comical portrayal of this story. The story itself carried a very absurd, comical value so I didn't want to mess with it. This allowed me to create displaced emotions, where horror which exists in reality, feels humor.

most importantly, i never wanted to have a moralistic comment/statement. i just want to present the characters and events. i tried my best not to judge the character, Neelakandan. I treated him with compassion.

Picture 3 : Deriving key points of the story to serve as a direction.

After soaking my mind in this idea for about a week, I finally sat to do the screenplay. In fact, I started it quite late, so we didn’t have much time to do many drafts. Initially, Mr.Shanjhey envisioned the movie to be around 2-3 minutes long in duration, but as I was writing, I thought that it will be interesting to follow the character through few more events that can push him to decide for himself. To be honest, the writing was simplistic, I intentionally left some spaces for improvisation during the shoot.

This is the link to our final script used during our shoot : https://issuu.com/gogularaajanrajendran/docs/jpg2pdf

3. THE PRODUCTION

There are no actors. It came down to me to act, damn, I am really a lousy actor. So we tried to ask my dad if he could play this role as he fits the look quite well, better than me. I thought he is never going to accept it because he is quite an important figure in the Malaysian Tamil Literature scene and he has an image to protect. But to my surprise, he said Yes without thinking much.

Picture 4 : First look test.

For the DOP, I asked my brother, Kuma to take care of it. This was his first time, but I have nothing to complain, his work was neat. So it happened to be quite a comfortable team to work with.

Since I'm dealing with a non-actor, I've used certain methods to drive the character into the actor. On the first day of the shoot, Dad and myself sat in my darkroom. I guided him to breath, in and out, as he settles down into a relaxed state, I brought Neelakandan to him, we asked the character’s permission and seek for his help in filming. I love to do this kind of rituals, it really builds our faith in the story and character. It also gives a certain sacred vibe. I love its purity.

Apart from meditation, I used another important technique which is breathing. I have identified precisely, the breathing pattern that the character goes through in each scene and action, and through guiding the actor with the same breathing pattern, it enables him to realize the character from a deeper reality. 

Picture 5 : Im pouring F&N Zappel to the glass faking it as Dettol.

Another thing that I’ve done to get decent acting is, we shot this short film really slowly, one scene per day. Really comfortably, because I didn't want to exhaust my dad. We would shoot 3-4 hours per day for 5 days continuously. And by the end of each day, I would edit the footage.

One very valuable lesson that I have acquired is that it doesn't matter if your actor is a good performer or not, if he is attentive and has surrendered himself to the craft, you can mine the talent.  My dad is, in fact, a non-alcoholic (anti-alcoholic even). My grandfather was an alcoholic himself and my dad has witnessed how alcohol can ruin a man’s life. Fortunately, my dad has observed how a true alcoholic would behave and think, close enough. I requested him to draw inspirations from there, and channel it through the way he behaves, looks, and walks. I also collected some interesting videos from the internet (testimonies of alcoholics in India) and let him indulge in the way they exist. 

3. THE POST

Editing this movie was fairly easy, I had a strong vision of its rhythm and flow. The only scene I had quite some trouble was the one in the lift. I almost gave up, I even questioned myself, why am I even doing this. I again, realized that I’m not a gifted editor, editing really drains my soul. But the reality is, every editing project (no matter how simple it is) will push you into a deep dark realm. It is a terrible place to be in, but then, it is just the process. If we keep on, we will survive.

Picture 6 : Final Timeline of the movie.

I did the editing in quite a rush. I suppose to collaborate with my friend Neroshen on the sound design, but I didn't have the time to send the files over. I end up making the sound myself with my limited resources. The first draft of this film was about 9 minutes, where I intentionally made the last sequence of Neelakandan drinking Dettol longer. I had him to light the candle, kissing the bottle, and glass. It was like a grand celebration after a tiring journey. However, we had to take it out since it was affecting the runtime. In the beginning, I was reluctant to cut it off, but Mr.Shanjhey made me realize that it is better off. In fact the mood was not affected in the end.

Time's running out for submission. Laavanya (sister) and Senthu helped me with the subtitles in the very last minute. Very grateful that we could submit the movie for the competition, I thought that we wont make it.

AFTER THOUGHTS :

Mr.Shanjhey and myself, we are really glad that we took part in this challenge (felt more like a festival! 200+ films submitted!). We don’t really celebrate films enough in Malaysia, and I love Kuman Pictures for that, they really make it a point to celebrate films. This motivates us to practice filmmaking more, because that’s the only way to mastery.

After the selection week, we got to know that our film is shortlisted. Woohoo!

Link to playlist of shortlisted films :  https://www.youtube.com/playlist…

We shared the movie with friends and families and received warm comments. One of the responses that really touches me is from the Five Flavours Film Festival (Poland) when they made a write up about our short film, and shares how they too, feel connected with the character and story, though they are miles away.

Link to the write up : https://www.piecsmakow.pl/aktualnosc.do?id=430&fbclid=IwAR2F1BfMG0W6l8MZ4tTfprfU8zf4RG8EzCGCttP0gQgwI-5scpDjktXVwAU

One weird coincident that hit us, weeks after the making this shortfilm is Donald Trump’s statement on ingesting Dettol to kill the virus. Art becomes life, there you go. Neelakandan is validated by Trump.

And on the 28th of April, Kuman announced that our short film has been selected as the winner for the challenge.

Some lovely articles and responses for shortfilm from online media : 

1. Trootz made a detailed write-up :

https://trootz.wordpress.com/2020/04/30/virus-mairus-no-virus-can-stop-a-man-seeking-gratification/

2. FatBidin Film Club reacted to the movie :

https://youtu.be/FYarPgjRerE

3.  OhSnap Tv made a cool coverage on their website :

https://www.ohsnap.tv/2020/04/30/spotlight-gogularaajan/

4. CinemaOnline made a write-up :

 http://www.cinema.com.my/bm/articles/news_details.aspx?search=2020.n_virusmairusdiangkat_54619&fbclid=IwAR0STOOLByd7K7o5xUUp3NHd3lSINioJ0xbab-QUYY42xZe2mwJzrr2SBvA

5. Thoughts on Films wrote an impressive review : 

https://thoughtsonfilms.com/2020/05/09/virus-mairus-review/

[mistersplitfoot-archive-blog]

Okay, I filled out that witchcraft survey thing. It’s long, so it’s under a read more. Again, sorry mobile users. 1. Are you solitary or in a coven?

I am solitary. There aren't many covens around here, and the ones that are nearby are all Wiccan. I also work better on my own, both in a magical and mundane sense, and I'm not very social. Solitary practice is better for me.

2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other?

I am a secular witch. I do not currently consider myself a pagan, because I don't worship or honor anything, but that may change in the future. If it does, my magical practice will still be entirely secular. No need to involve religion. I am not, and I never will be, Wiccan.

 3. What is your zodiac sign?

Aquarius sun, Sagittarius moon.

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess?

 No.

5. Do you work with a Pantheon?

No.

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or any other kind of divination?

I read tarot and oracle cards, and sometimes runes. I plan to learn to read Lenormand soon. Sometimes I do bibliomancy, but it's rare. I'm interested in palmistry but I haven't started learning it yet.

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any)

I don't have a job right now; my partner supports me financially. Because of this, I make the best of what I have available already or can access cheapy. I use a lot of cooking spices. Bay, basil, thyme, parsley, cinnamon, rosemary, etc. I also use the tea from herbal tea bags when I need something like chamomile, lavender, catnip, etc.

8. How would you define your craft?

I wouldn't. It's all over the place.

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do?

I do curse. I don't do it often, because it uses up a lot of my energy and as a spoonie witch I need to conserve as much as I can for mundane things.

10. How long have you been practicing?

Off and on for about twelve years.

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars?

Sadly, I do not. None of my pets have ever seemed interested. One of my cats showed potential for a while, but she doesn't seem to care anymore. I am interested in connecting with a spirit familiar, though.

12. Do you believe in Karma or Reincarnation?

I believe in reincarnation. I do not believe in karma. Karma is part of specific religious systems that I am not a part of. I believe in reincarnation in a purely spiritual sense, with no connection to religion. On that note, because someone might ask, I do believe in the concept of otherkin and fictionkin. If there are infinite universes and reincarnation is a thing, there's no reason it would be impossible.

13. Do you have a magical name?

No. My last name has magical connotations on it's own, though it isn't the one I was born with. I chose it, after one of my favorite book characters.

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”?

First, I have to say that I have always hated this phrase, even before I understood anything about my non straight and non cis identity. I don't think it should be used by non-LGBT witches. But anyway. Yeah, most people who know me as more than an acquaintance know I'm a witch. Unfortunately, most of them assume that means I'm Wiccan, and I don't always have the energy to explain that I am not.

15. What was the last spell you performed?

A money drawing spell.

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable?

Yes and no. I know a lot of specific things, but I don't have a broad range of knowledge in most witchy subjects. I've been practicing for over a decade and I still feel like a beginner.

17. Do you write your own spells?

Yes. I rarely perform spells that I didn't write myself, or at least modify a bit.

18. Do you have a book of shadows? If so, how is it written and/or set up?

I have a grimoire. I prefer that term over BOS because BOS is so rooted in Wicca. Of course, I don't mind if others use it, it's just my preference. Anyway, I have two. One is faux leather bound binder originally intended for scrapbooking, so it's pretty big. That's the one I keep at home. I can rearrange pages as I like, since it's a three ring binder. I also have a smaller, portable grimoire in the form of one of those little journal books. It's also faux leather, and it's incomplete. I just started putting it together recently. It'll be a very watered down version of my main grimoire, with just basic information for easy reference purposes. The larger one is much more thorough.

19. Do you worship nature?

I don't worship anything, but if I were to worship anything, it would be the cosmos.

20. What is your favorite gemstone?

Blue goldstone, green goldstone, opal, malachite, and I know it isn't technically a gem, but opalite.

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work?

I don't, but that's because I just don't have any. And I don't have the funds to acquire any. The only bones I have is the partial skeleton of a baby deer, found by my mom's hunter friend when he was in the woods. They had been there a while and most of it was missing, but my mom got her friend to give me what he found. I haven't done anything with them yet. They're fairly large so I'm not sure what to use them for.

 22. Do you have an altar?

I have two, but they're for spellwork, not worship. I have one downstairs in my living room, it's on top of a waist-high bookshelf. And I have one in the bedroom, on top of an antique glass vanity that used to be my mom's. Both are very small, much smaller than I'd like, but again, I make the best of what I have.

23. What is your preferred element?

Air or fire.

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist?

Not really. I don't know much about alchemy, to be honest. It's on my list of things to study. Eventually. I have a long list.

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch?

Maybe? I'm not sure. I don't think so, though.

26. What got you interested in witchcraft?

I can't remember. I can hardly remember what I did last week. I just know that when I first found out about it, everyone had me believing that Wicca was the Only Option. Because of that, it took me a while to get into it.

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch?

Yep. I live with my partner, who is not a witch, and I've done several spells in front of them and for them.

28. Have you ever used ouija?

No. My partner had a bad experience with one as a child and won't let me bring one into the house. I'll use one someday, though.

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic?

I think everyone is to some degree, but I don't think my talents are very strong.

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it?

I do, in a sense. This is rather personal so I won't go into it too much, but it's someone I knew in a past life.

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started?

That Wicca is not the only option! And that I don't have to devote my time and energy into woshiping a faceless God and Goddess that I feel absolutely no connection with. That I don't have to be religious at all to be a witch.

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite?

I don't. I celebrate 'christian' holidays in a secular sense (christmas, easter, etc) and I associate the Sabbats with Wicca, so I just. Don't acknoweldge them. I don't mind when other people do, though.

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children?

I'm never having children.

34. Do you meditate?

Yes, but I'm not very good at it.

35. What is your favorite season?

Late fall and winter.

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform?

Anything, really. Aside from curses. Curses take up so much more energy than any other kind of spell I do and then I'm just exhausted for the rest of the day.

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life?

I'm not really sure how to answer this. It's not really something I can explain.

38. What is your favorite witchy movie?

Hocus Pocus! It's been a favorite since I was a kid. It was one of those movies I'd watch repeatedly all day and make my parents hate me.

 39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction.

Fiction, probably Harry Potter because I'm a big ol' cliche and because I literally grew up with it. Non-fiction, probably The Element Encyclopedia of 5000 Spells by Judika Illes. I've owned it twice now. I first borrowed it from a friend in high school, and it was in pretty bad condition. Pages falling out and whatnot. That friend moved away before I could give it back, and I lent it to someone else. I never got it back either, and a couple years ago my partner bought me a replacement. I like the cover of the new edition much better, anyway.

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not.

Fuck if I know, my dude. Like I said, I can barely remember last week.

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you?

Nothing too weird has happened to me as far as magic stuff goes, but when I was still honoring Loki, something happened. I was talking to him about something, I can't remember what, but I think I mentioned something about doubting the existence of deities, and how I wasn't sure if anyone was even hearing me. Literally the next day, a fucking snake got into my house. No idea how. But it just showed up, and my cat chased it around and we managed to catch it before the cat could hurt it and we set it free. It had never happened before, and it hasn't happened since. So yeah, I get it, deities exist and they hear us. Message received.

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use?

I love black candles. I know, it's so cliche and 'edgy' of me, but they just feel so witchy and nice.

43. What is your favorite witchy tool?

I don't use many tools. Usually the only things I use are incense burners, candles, and occasionally my tiny cast iron cauldron.

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools?

I made an offering bowl years ago, when I was still making offerings to deities. That's about it.

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fae or spirits?

I have not, but I'm very interested in doing so. I need to research a lot more, though.

46. Do you practice color magic?

Yes, color plays a big part in my practice. I try to use candles in appropriate colors for specific spells, or I write in colored ink when drawing up sigils, the colors of gems matter, etc.

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind?

Nope.

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies?

There's a new age store about thirty minutes from my house. They're the only place I can find a large amount of crystals, herbs, and incense. And the staff there is very nice. I usually buy candles at the dollar store, though. And when Halloween rolls around, Walmart sells little packs of black tea lights for a decent price, so I stock up n those every October. Craft stores are good for some things, too.

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate?

Yes and no. I think every choice you make changes your fate. That's why things like tarot and rune readings aren't set in stone. You have the power to change things if you don't like the projected outcome.

 50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice?

Take a break from it. Sometimes I just get burned out and don't feel it. That's fine. I just take a couple months off and I don't do anything witchy. Then after a bit, the feeling comes back on it's own. Something I see or read or hear will spark it again.

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences?

There's a ghost in my house that fucks with me all the time. Nothing dangerous or violent, more like hiding my things and opening cupboards that I know the cats can't reach. And at my mom's, I have an uncle who haunts the house. I never met him, he died when he was a kid, but my mom has seen him in the backyard, and he's turned lights on after I've turned them off when I've been house sitting. My partner swears they've heard him say 'hello'. And the snake thing I mentioned earlier, if that counts.

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve?

People thinking witch = Wicca, and that any witch who isn't Wiccan is 'fake'. That, and people (Wiccans) who try to force their anti-cursing Threefold Law rhetoric on other, non-Wiccans. And the rampant cultural appropriation, of course.

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent?

I love incense. I go through it like it's water. My favorite scent is probably dragon's blood.

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind?

I've tried, but I never manage to keep up with it. I'll try again someday.

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster?  I've never had anything terrible happen, thankfully.

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success?

I helped my partner get a job! It happened about a week after I did an employment spell for them. They ended up hating the job and quitting two months later, but still!

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about?

Nothing really.

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too?

Absolutely.

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work?

Of course. I think everyone feels like this now and then, even experienced witches.

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain?

Oh definitely. But I do that in all areas of my life, not just witchcraft.

61. What is something witch related that you want right now?

I have a spare room in my house that I currently use for storage. The dream is to clear it out, donate all the shit I don't want anymore, and turn that spare room into a magical room, where I can have a bigger work space and more room to make things look all pretty and nice. And maybe keep a little herb garden in there near the window.

62. What is your rune of choice?

I don't use runes enough to really have one.

63. What is your tarot card of choice?

The Star is my favorite card.

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite?

I do sometimes. My favorites are lavender, jasmine, rose, patchouli, amber, and honeysuckle.

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses?

Nope.

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public?

I don't really wear much jewelry. As a transmasc person who doesn't pass very well, I try not to wear things that will make it even harder for me to pass. Sometimes I'll wear an amethyst point under my shirt, or the old skeleton key I've enchanted.

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch?

No. Unless you count my mom being very against it when I was a teenager, but even then, it wasn't a big deal. She didn't threaten to kick me out or anything, she just didn't want me doing anything in her house. I was still allowed to read and study it.

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? No. I don't even know of any.

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft?

Well, the history of paganism is extremely broad. It's an umbrella term for a bunch of different religions. I think it's a little ridiculous to expect, say, a Hellenic Recon pagan to know the history of Celtic Recon or something. So it's good to know the history of YOUR practice. As for witchcraft, I think it helps to know where some things came from, to know you're not appropriating anything, and also so you know Wicca isn't fucking 5000 years old or whatever. And don't spread misinfo. If you're knowledge on 'The Burning Times" is from a $ilver Ravenw0lf book, I suggest you do some further research because it's fucking wrong.

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch?

I like the aesthetic and I like knowing I have some level of control over things in my life. When I can be bothered to use that control, anyway.

 71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch?

The fact that I have to constantly explain that witch does not equal Wiccan. The fact that there are still people (read: TERFs) who think you have to be a cis woman to be a witch. And witches that shit on other witches for not being militant vegans. Fuck off.

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band?

Not really. It's not really my thing. I personally think southern gothic music is far more witchy than most 'witchy' musicians. Not that that's the only genre I listen to, that's just an example.

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how?

Nope.

74. Do you ever work skyclad?

Nope. My altars are right in front of windows, and I also just don't think it's necessary.

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how?

Sure. Like I said, it's given me a sense of control, and it's given me some hobbies and interests I might not have otherwise.

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice?

Pop culture, other witches, art, music.

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc)

Well I don't consider ghosts to be fantasy creatures. But anyway. I think things like that can exist on other planes, like the astral or something. I think in special circumstances, maybe they can be seen (I know people have claimed to have seen faeries, for example), but I think they're usually invisible.

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol?

I like planetary symbols, if that counts.

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not?

I have before, but I don't do it often because I have an intense preoccupation with disease and infection. I think, in most cases, spit or hair or fingernails work just fine instead, and you aren't risking getting sick from it.

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice?

Probably not. I don't have to date a witch (as I said before, my partner is not a witch), but I can't date someone who doesn't support me or thinks what I do is silly or fake.

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow?

I'm not sure?

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice?

I don't have a favorite. I prefer unscented candles because lighting a bunch of different scents all at once tends to give me a headache.

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it?

Gather up everything I need. Wash my hands. Do some deep breathing and/or meditation if it's necessary. Dab a specific oil on if it's necessary. Make sure I have water nearby if I'm using fire.

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice?

No one specific, I just like following witchy blogs and instagrams and seeing what others are doing.

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity?

I don't do this anymore, but if I wanted to talk, I'd just light a candle I had set aside for them and just. Talk to them. If I wanted some kind of response or guidance, I'd use tarot cards, too.

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients?

What is 'organization'? My stuff is just anywhere it will fit. One of the reasons I want to clear out that room, so I can actually have some organization.

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of?

Nope.

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it?

I couldn't really tell you, because I don't even know if it is unique. It probably isn't. I'm sure there are tons of other witches out there who do the same, or similar, things that I do. My goal isn't to be unique, it's to do whatever works.

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they?

I like to think I'm pretty good with tarot. I'm never going to be perfect, and I'll never be done learning, but I think I've gotten fairly good at it.

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven?

I think this varies from tradition to tradition. Since I'm not part of any tradition at all, this does not apply to me.

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought?

Nothing. I borrowed books from friends.

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been?

Wooded areas and lakes feel spiritual to me, as do some liminal spaces. There's also this place near my house called Five Points that is infamous around here for ghost activity.

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities?

My advice is don't ask me for this kind of advice.

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation?

The deep breathing exercises they teach you to control anxiety is helpful, because it slows your heart rate and puts you at ease, even if you aren't having a panic attack. I also like to listen to certain instrumental music, or sometimes even certain ASMR videos. Depending on my mood, I might light candles or incense, too.

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it?

It comes very easy to me. It has since I was a kid, because part of playing with friends was visualization. I'm also an artist, and I know not all artists do this but I usually see a drawing before I do it. So visualization is just second nature for me.

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why?

Night. Because my sleep schedule is fucked and I don't start feeling active until around 4 or 5 pm.

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work?

Place is wherever you have everything you need and you're comfortable and safe. Time depends. I like to time my spells with certain days of the week and moon phases if possible. If you mean time of day, I prefer night, but again, that's because I'm not very active during the day.

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly?

I don't remember any of my 'firsts'.

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice?

Ehh kinda. Not everything gets easier, but some things do. Like, you learn what works for you and what doesn't after trial and error. You start to remember correspondences without needing to look them up. Things like that get easier.

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces?

Many gods. All gods, actually. Even 'fictional' gods. Because I believe in all deities, and I believe in the multiverse theory.

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy?

I don't eat red meat because of medical reasons. I have a hard time digesting it and it almost always makes me sick. I do eat other meats, like poultry and seafood, and I eat eggs and dairy. I am not a vegan. I don't think you have to be a vegan to be a witch. And I think militant vegans need to tone it the fuck down.

102. What is your favorite color and why?

Blues and purples. They're calming, pretty, and remind me of things from a past life.

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond?

To be honest, most of my non-practicing friends don't ask me much. My partner asks me to do spells or them, that's about it. Or I get asked to do readings. Other than that, I don't get many questions.

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest?

Either hearing or scent.

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice?

Protection, probably. I don't cast a circle or wards for every spell or ritual I do. I probably should use them more, but I just. Hardly do. I usually only do that if I'm going to be performing a curse.

#long post #about me

[rmjagonshi]

Introduction to new followers!

Hey there, 

So, I’m not sure what happened over the last two weeks, but I jumped like 7 new followers. Like, what? I’m tiny, I’m nobody, I got into my current fandom sooo late I was able to watch the whole thing in a weekend and was six months late to get the black light edition journal 3. 

So for those scrolling through my blog and realizing that I’ve only become active in the last four months or so, I should probably introduce myself a bit.

Hi!, You can call me Raven Jagonshi (my really old pen name from livejournal that stuck) or Chase. Non-binary, uses they/them pronouns (but answers to she/her), 27 years and a mid-range internet fandom veteran. 

What I mean by that is I was around (though was way too young to be on the sites I was on) when the fandom purge happened in Livejournal and FF.net. I remember when AFF.Net went up and how neat that was. 

I remember in middle school being so damn excited about posting my first fanfiction. It’s probably still there, but please don’t go read it. It was a terrible self insert for Yu-yu hakusho and I am ashamed. I actually wrote a lot of fanfiction by hand in notebooks in middle school and highschool. Most of it was later thrown out or burned by my parents that thought my foray into sexual expression ( I was not actually having sex, just writing/reading) was wrong/I was too young. I discovered sexuality through fanicition; that people could be gay, could be attracted to more than one person through fanfiction. I learned about consent through reading dub-con and non-con fanfiction and finding out how uncomfortable it made me. Fanfiction taught me more about healthy realtionships and how to deal with/break from unhealthy ones than I learned through the manditory sex-ed classes. 

Stuff like this sticks with you. Heck, I already said I was 27; I started reading fanfiction/looking at fanart/fandom sites as early 8 years old. I remember one of the first fanfiction I read was a Krillin/18 get together fic that I printed out and read and re-read. I think I still have it somewhere. The website probably doesn’t exist anymore. It was an old geocites hub, (I think I’m remembering that right). 

I started posting on tumblr back in 2014, about teh last year I was in undergrad. I don’t know why I did. I think because I got tired of livejournal and all the nonsense there. And I kept finding AO3 and FF.net bios linking to it.

My first post? A picture of the skull I was working on for my senior anthropology project. All subsequent posts were me forgetting tumblr existed or that I could actually blog about things. I was a part of the Sherlock fandom since midway between season 1 and 2. This was after I’d fallen out of Doctor Who and was also just as Merlin finished. 

I jump from fandom to fandom; I go in and out of obessions and hitting a slump, or a gap where I’ve exausted nearly all easily accessable fandom about one thing is like hitting a wall. Long about summer 2014, I hit a big wall. One, I was going to grad school, two, I was in probably one of the darkest places I’ve been in my life. I didn’t engage in fandom really at all becasue gradschool took so much out of me. Working in my office until well past midnight, and sometimes going in at 4 or 5 in the morning to make sure everything got done. It was brutal. And I was only taking 5 classes, T.A. for one lab. So fandom was a, “do somthing for 5 minutes to not go insane” kind of thing. This was about the time I found Markiplier and that group on youtube. And that helped. 

But what really had me fall out of reading fanfiction was that I didn’t have the energy for it anymore. School just about broke my ability to read anything for fun. I couldn’t even read books, not that I didn’t try. Then after I finished my Master’s, there was a year where I just...kind of exisited. I was on Tumblr, obvi, but I didn’t think to write or create or even reblog stuff. Not really sure why, I just didn’t. Gravity Falls (and partly Undertale and Steven Universe) pulled me out of this apathy. And now, well, I’m sure you can see the result. 

So, that’s me. Kind of. I’m open to any questions, just drop me a line in the asks or IM.            

#me #Ravenjagonshi #my little fandom history #new followers #yay #they come out of the woodwork #I'm up to 44 now #about 35 are real #not bad #woot

[babysquirrelkat-blog]

Introduction Post

It’s been a while since I’ve been back to Tumblr.  Things got pretty good in my life and I didn’t need it as much.  For several years Tumblr was my crutch.  It was my way of fulfilling my human need for socialization and peer bonding.  That might sound sad and pathetic... :/  I’ve been mentally ill since 2008. Although I suspect that my issues go much further back and on into my childhood.  2008, when I was 19, may have just been when my brain just finally blew its breakers so to speak.  I was smoking a lot of pot back then.  Did some coricidins, and went into psychosis.  They originally diagnosed me with drug induced psychosis.  I of course didn’t believe I was sick, and I kept smoking pot, which prolonged my psychosis long enough for them to diagnose me with schizophrenia.  I lost all of my friends and even a lot of my family.  I no longer knew myself let alone anyone else.  I had to get to know my own mother again; learn who she was.  Some of my family I never got to know again, because they demonized me for being ill.

For a while I didn’t leave my house, and if I did, I didn’t leave the car.  A trip to the grocery store meant a half and hour or more waiting in the car because I was too frightened to go inside.  My mom would get annoyed with me.  Flash forward a year or so, I would leave the house, but every where I went was a panic attack waiting to happen.  I would start feeling unsafe, my heart would start pounding, everything and everyone around me started feeling too close, too loud, too bright, and too threatening.  I started feeling that the people around me where going to hurt me, imprison me, or kill me. My mom was constantly pissed at me for running out of restaurants to smoke a cigarette during a meal... and then just never coming back inside.

I slowly got better.  Very slowly.  I didn’t regain a social life or my own personality.  I lost my liberal ideologies because of the catholic delusions I experienced during psychosis.  I had no original or individual ideas. I was sorta an asshat. A nice asshat with as much manners as my anxiety could not interfere with, but an asshat.

I thought life was always going to be completely bland.  I thought I was going to grow old in my childhood bedroom at my mothers house.  I wasn’t going to marry or have children. I had a lot of potential at one time.  I was beautiful, talented, creative, smart and passionate.  The anti-psychotics had taken me from a teeny tiny 96lbs at 4′11″ to 238 lbs.  I had acne all over my face. It’s riddled with scars.  I never had acne before the medications. I stopped having periods.  I had two periods that started on their own and maybe 3-4 that were started with pills from my doctor in the span of 6 years. 5-6 periods in 6 years.  I felt broken.  I felt less like of a woman. I had no confidence left.  I spent all my time on Tumblr and watching my fandom shows. From age 19-25 I had very little contact with any one my age.  I felt like I was old before I ever got a chance to be young.

In 2012 or so I was diagnosed with schizoaffective.  Schizophrenia and bipolar.  There was also PTSD, Primary O OCD, shit tons of anxiety and depression, and some slight movement disorders from the drugs.

In July of 2014 I took myself off all of the drugs.  The CNP who was in charge of my case flipped out.  She called me non-compliant and a liar.  Even sent a nasty letter to my college financial aid.  She didn’t believe mental illness was an excuse for the symptoms of those mental illnesses.  I’ve ran into that a lot over the years.  Even from the people who claim to be the most supportive.  My mother thinks she is the champion of my mental health.  Maybe she is in her own ways.  But there are things she has never quite grasped.  She could never understand why I couldn’t clean the entire house if being unemployed gave me all the time in the world to do so. Being on Tumblr made her think I was childish.  She had even me convinced that because of trauma I was stuck at 16 years old and would always be a child.  She treated me like a lazy bratty teenager instead of recognizing my symptoms.  She had people in my family doing the same.  Calling me to lecture me.  Telling me I should be praying for the health of other people if I wanted to get better.  My aunt told me that she has to force herself out of bed some days to get to work. As to say, you aren’t the only one who has depression.  That I should be able to deal with it better and not complain.  Other people had it worse.  Well after 7 years in bed I finally forced myself out the front door, so to speak, so perhaps her argument almost had a leg to stand on.

After going off meds, I started to regain myself.  I got a lot of shit.  Everything I said happened to me during the day was still perceived with a lot of skepticism.  If I said someone said something to me at the store, no matter what it was, or how believable, I was still asked, “Are you sure that’s what happened.”

In 2015 I met a guy online and we started dating.  We were extremely happy.  He helped me find who I was again.  I started to remember myself.  Which so happens to be a somewhat bitchy siren cunt from a feminist dimension on the other side of a portal that popped out of a earthy hippie chick’s mirror.... Or well something like that.   Sometimes I’m a complete mother hen to my friends, I worry about them.  I do things for them.  I take care of everyone in my small circle.  I stress and I panic and I cook and I drive a mini van.  I get angry when someone threatens who and what I love and that anger comes out of me like a tidal wave.  I even found out that I act quick in an emergency.

In August of 2015 I started having convulsions and an abnormal gait.  A year and a half later I am doing somewhat better.  I have found that the shaking and inability to walk is a manifestation of my anxiety.  It only happens when my anxiety has been triggered, specifically during PTSD episodes.  A loud noise could send me to the floor screaming and shaking.  It made me feel scared at first.  The life I had just regained was ending all over again.  But it has subsided quite a lot.

My boyfriend was put in jail for a DUI on Nov 2 2015.  My mental health deteriorated without him. I felt lost in a void.  He got out Feb 25 2016 and I felt so far from him.  He didn’t seem real.  Where before he was the only thing breaking through my dissociation.  I could touch him then and he was as far away as all the rest of reality.  I still refused to start meds again.  The meds kept me sick.  I needed to be able to deal with this all on my own.  I still do.  The meds are not my answer.

My boyfriend was also having issues of his own.  He was taking half his klonopin pills as soon as he got the bottles.  He lost his job.  He was awful on the pills.  I finally told him it was the pills or me.  He flushed them and it hasnt been a problem since.  Although, I did worry he would resent me for it. 

He and I have had a lot of problems here recently.  We moved into out own apartment in September 2016.  He has been working 2nd shift and staying up all night, sleeping all day.  This has left me alone a lot.  I don’t feel like he listens to a lot that I say.  He’s constantly irritating me with sexist remarks.  He’s constantly turning my arguments into his.  I don’t let him.  I call him on his bullshit every time.  He will interrupt me talking about what’s important to me so he can talk about some random ass shit that had nothing to do with anything.  Which wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t talk for half an hour.  If I interrupt him to finish what I was saying for five seconds he uses that as an excuse to say that I’m the real problem.  I suppose that’s half the time.  The other half we get along really well.  Like really well.  Which is wonderful.

I still want to marry him.  I want to have his baby. I want to beat him with a frying pan and then snuggle with him while we watch Supernatural.  Did I mention we finally started trying to conceive now that I can have periods again.  First month we tried was this last month.  My cycle is 33 days. So I started testing like a crazy person 14dpo... everything has been negative.  I’m now a week late on my period and my tests are so negative they aren’t even getting evap lines anymore( I test all the time even though we weren’t officially trying til this last month).  My lady bits totally choked with 10 seconds left in the game.

So I’ve been pretty depressed these last few weeks.  I’m stressed out.  I’m a taxi driver for my boyfriends brother.  Taking him everywhere, taking the boyfriend to work, driving my sister everyonce and a while.  I’m in a play.  Which only takes up about 9 hours a week.  Yet, I have been so stressed out that I’ve not been able to take care of myself.  I don’t have the energy to cook much, eat healthy, do laundry, bathe.  I’m gaining weight from easy junk food and lack of moving.  I mostly sit on the couch or in the driver’s seat.  I don’t have much time with anyone outside of giving them rides or during the time they are waiting for rides.  I get maybe two hours or less with my boyfriend a day during the week.  On the weekend I’m lucky to get time alone with him between calls for my help to do things for everyone else.  My need to help, it seems, always becomes expected by people.  I offer assistance a few times and their lives become my responsabilty.  I love them all, but I need them to understand that I sometimes need a break and they can’t call me for everything, without making them feel like they can’t call me for anything.

TL;DR So that’s sorta where I’ve been and where I’m at now.  That was actually somewhat brief... O.o  Basically, I’ve felt completely unimportant and without justification for my existence here lately and I’m back to Tumblr as my crutch for a bit.  Somewhere I can feel like I have a mild place to call home; away from a life that seems to just be one giant mental illness prison following me around and stalking me for the better part of a decade. 

(EDIT: Since being off medications, my schizophrenic symptoms have subsided.  All that remains is the bipolar and multiple anxiety based disorders.  Although I do hear voices occasionally, I know that those voices are simply my own feelings that weren’t quite addressed by my conscious mind floating up from my subconscious.  For example I could feel a swelling of happiness in my chest for my boyfriend and hear a voice that says, “I love him.” )

If you got this far congratulations and thank you, here are some XOXOs for your trouble.

<3 Kat

#mental illness #relationships #feminism #ttc #bipolar #dissasociation #PTSD #convulsions #abnormal gait #movement disorder #disability