#SHE NEEDED TO KNOW THAT THE LAST ASSIGNMENT SHOULD BE EITHER THE VIDEO ESSAY OR THE ESSAY PROPER NOT BOTH IT'S TOO MUCH FUCKING SHIT TO DO

[daincrediblegg]

I hate it when I accidentally hit submit on the course eval for one of the classes I was most looking forward to critiquing for improvement when I had barely written anything 🙃

#SHE NEEDED TO KNOW THAT THE LAST ASSIGNMENT SHOULD BE EITHER THE VIDEO ESSAY OR THE ESSAY PROPER NOT BOTH IT'S TOO MUCH FUCKING SHIT TO DO #I NEED HER TO KNOW NOT HAVING SET DATES FOR ASSIGNMENTS AND A REGULAR FLOW KINDA FUCKING SUCKED #BUT NO. JUST BULLSHITTING FROM ME #GOD DAMNIT ALL TO HELL #it's been a long day and my group has literally written the worst AV script for this thing in all of christendom that I NOW HAVE TO EDIT #because I cannot fucking stand how badly written it is I literally can't. I've had to deal with that shit too often lately #please god give me a break. #at least my production professor seems to have really REALLY liked my doc as it was when I turned it in last week and liked meeting my dad #the other day. and gave me books on victorian photography #at least. she like me. at least. we vibe. #miyazaki prof needed to be taken down a peg though and I AM SO MAD THAT I MISSED THE OPPORTUNITY TO DO THAT BC THEY MADE THE SUBMIT BUTTON #LOOK LIKE THE NEXT BUTTON AND GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR #anyway gonna go see the boy and the heron tomorrow night by my fuckin self as a consolation prize for this stupid fucking week and having t #deal with the most stupid shit imaginable. #can't wait. gonna go out and have a proper meal by myself and everything.

[yoddream]

part 1 is here

(TW: talks of weight and clothing size)

It had been a couple months since Jeno apologized. It had been rough at times, for he had missed out on a lot with not only you but your other friends as well. Renjun had also gotten into a relationship, so he wasn’t available as much, but he always made time for you guys, and sometimes one of you would invite his partner along.

Jaemin was back home for a family emergency, so he’d missed out on the initial reunion. He had returned not too long after, but when he did he’d given Jeno the cold shoulder for almost two weeks. everyone had felt it was a little excessive, but he stood his ground until he was ready.

Mark and Haechan had had a huge fight, resulting in them taking a break for about a month. It had resulted in you and Haechan eating a bunch of takeout while watching youtube videos multiple nights a week. Nobody knew what the fight was actually about, but it made everyone worried the couple would break up permanently.

Jisung and Chenle were the only ones that didn’t really have anything happen to them. They still attended class and hung out with the group, but that was it. It was almost as if they were immune to any drama.

When it seemed like everything had settled, you were worried about something else coming up to ruin everything. It seemed to good to be true for everything to feel right again. Was a random quiz going to pop up in one of your classes? Would your apartment flood? We’re your parents going to call you with bad news?

No. Instead, you ran into Yeeun.

You’d gone to the boba shop a few blocks away from your apartment to reward yourself for getting your essay done a couple days before it was due. Sure, you could’ve gone whenever, but rewarding yourself with it motivated you, and it made the drink taste that much better. Jeno was back at your place, still writing his paper, so you’d offered to get him some to keep going, which then turned into you offering to get some for Haechan and Mark as well.

When you walked into the shop, you almost bumped into Yeeun. She looked as put-together as usual, with her hair glossy and straight, an outfit that consisted of baggy jeans and a cropped cardigan, and perfect makeup to accentuate her big eyes. It reminded you of how despite her obviously looking upset the days after the break up, she still put herself together as if nothing had happened.

“O-oh. Hi Yeeun,” you said hesitantly.

She smiled brightly, which shocked you. “Hi, Y/N! How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing well. How—how have you been?” you asked.

“I’ve been doing okay. The break-up’s been rough, but my friends are helping me get through it. How’s Jeno been doing?”

“Not well. He’s been upset, but we’re doing everything we can to get his mind off it,” you explained.

“That’s good. Well, I have class in a few minutes, so I should get going.” As she walked around you, you spun around and called out her name. She turned to you with her eyebrows raised as she waited.

“Can I ask why you broke up with Jeno? None of us have been able to figure it out.”

She smiled sadly. “One time, he and I were eating lunch in the hall. You and your friends were sitting on the other side, looking over every once in a while until you picked up your phone and texted him. You had asked to hang out for movie night, but he said he already had plans with me. You just looked so sad and heartbroken, and I had remembered him talk about your movie nights and how special they were. Seeing how you reacted, I’d sneaked a look at his phone and saw that he’d turned you down almost every time you asked to hang out. I couldn’t get in the way of a friendship like that, especially knowing how close you were before I started dating him.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to him about it?” you asked genuinely.

“I thought about it, but something told me it wouldn’t have done anything,” she explained. When she looked at her watch, she cursed. “I really gotta go. You should text me, though! We can have a girls’ day!”

Once you’d gotten your order, you rushed back to your apartment and practically threw Jeno’s drink at him before rushing down the hall to Haechan’s room. With your free hand, you banged on the door while shouting “Code pink! Code pink!”

Code pink: ran into someone’s ex.

The door flew open, and you handed Mark his drink before pushing past him to grab Haechan. Dragging your roommate into your bedroom, you locked the door behind you and led him into your closet before closing the door behind you as well to assure nobody heard you talk.

“This story better be good enough for you to drag me back into the closet,” Haechan joked.

“Shut up, idiot. I ran into Yeeun.”

“What?!”

You shushed him harshly. “I don’t need those two breaking into my room trying to figure out what we’re talking about!”

“Tell. Me. Everything.”

So you did. The whole time you told your story, his eyes were wide as he took everything in. There were guesses as to why she’d broken up with Jeno, but nobody was close to the actual reason. And to hear that she wanted to stay in contact with you? It seemed impossible.

When you were done, Haechan sat there without saying a single word. What could he even say? Yeeun and Jeno had had a relationship that seemed perfectly fine. They weren’t toxic towards each other, and they weren’t nasty to each other’s friends.

“I never thought I’d hear about a couple breaking up to help someone outside of their relationship,” he finally said.

“Well, parents break up all the time because it’s better for their child,” you pointed out.

“But that kid is a part of the relationship. It’s their child. Breaking up because a friend is hurting? That’s new to me.”

There was a pause before you asked, “What do I do now?”

Haechan let out a big sigh. “I have no idea. If you wanna be friends with her, I don’t see why not. I would just wait a couple days before you text her. As for Jeno—well, there’s no way to tell how he would react.”

“Are you guys done? Hyuckie and I were supposed to watch a movie!” Mark called out.

Haechan rolled his eyes before muttering, “And everyone says I’m obsessed with him.”

“Go have your date night. I’m gonna see if Jeno needs help with his essay,” you said, shoving Haechan when he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

Haechan liked to joke that you and Jeno were dating, even though everyone knew you didn’t like each other. It had been an ongoing joke since you were in high school, but it’d stopped while Jeno and Yeeun were still together.

When you opened your bedroom door, Jeno and Mark were standing right there. Mark immediately grabbed Haechan and dragged him across the hall, leaving you with your best friend. He was staring at you with an unreadable expression, which worried you a little. Did he hear you?

“What are you hiding?” he asked, a smirk growing on his face.

You groaned loudly. “You asshole! I thought you were actually upset with me.”

“I’m just surprised that it’s a secret I’m not allowed to know,” he stated.

"I’ll tell you at some point. How’s your paper coming?”

Jeno frowned instead of responding. You immediately knew what he wanted. Jeno had always had a problem with expressing himself, so you learned how to read him. What he wanted right now? He wanted to cuddle. The only problem was that if you went with it, he’d never get his paper done. It was due tonight.

“Jeno, you better get that assignment done. Don’t make me regret buying that boba for you,” you said.

With his frown deepening, Jeno turned and headed back to the living room. You took a sip of your drink and closed the door. He was being dramatic; he knew he could come to you after he was done.

You snuggled into your bed and started watching a video on your phone. You could feel your eyelids getting heavy, but you did everything you could to fight against it. As time went on, it got harder and harder. By the time you were about to fall asleep, there was a soft knock on your door before it slowly creaked open. Jeno shuffled himself in and closed the door behind him before turning to you. Without a word, you lifted the edge of your comforter and let him crawl in. His long hair fell over his eyes by the time he settled, so you gently pushed it away. He threw an arm over your torso and pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You felt your whole body melt; it was just like old times.

///

A couple weeks had passed since you’d run into Yeeun. The two of you texted, and you’d even hung out with her a few times. Jeno either hadn’t found out yet, or he didn’t care. You were hoping it was the latter, but there was a good chance that wasn’t the case. He still seemed to be pretty heartbroken.

“What about this one?” Yeeun asked, holding up a dress.

The two of you were at the mall, shopping for a party. You’d never really gone to one, so you had one idea what to wear. The last time you were invited to a party, you didn’t want to go, so the guys had gone without you. It was actually how Jeno had met Yeeun.

“It’s cute,” you said. The dress was a bodycon that had a ruffle along the bottom. The straps were tied on the tops of the shoulders, and the fabric was a light pink. You could already tell it would look really nice on her.

“Yeah...I just don’t know if it’ll be good enough for the party,” she mumbled with a pout.

“Honestly, Yeeun, I think you could wear whatever the hell you wanted and look good,” you told her.

She frowned. “I guess. Well, how about you try it on?”

“No way. I could never wear that,” you stated with a firm shake of your head.

“Of course you can! Look, they have it in your size.” She swapped the dresses on the rack and held it out to you. “You don’t have to get it, but you can totally try it on. It’s not going to hurt you.”

“It could hurt my self-esteem,” you mumbled.

Yeeun took a step forward and gently grabbed you by the shoulders. “I know it’s not something you’d normally wear, but it’s just for fun. You are absolutely stunning, even if you think you aren’t. Trying on clothing is to see how something fits, not how you look in the clothing. If it feels too tight in certain areas, then you try a size up to see how that feels. It’s based on your level of comfort, not how you look. That’s why we try on clothes. A medium dress from here could be an extra-large dress from another store. Also, this color would look pretty on you.”

You paused. “Didn’t you just say that it’s not based on how you look?”

She rolled her eyes with a smile. “When it comes to how it fits on your body, silly. Color is completely different. This shade of pink may look better with your skin tone than a different shade of pink. C’mon, please?”

Sighing, you took the dress and dragged your feet to the fitting room. When you closed the door and locked it, you took a deep breath before starting to undress. Avoiding your reflection, you took the dress off the hanger and stepped into it before sliding it up. Once your arms were completely through the straps and the dress was settled, you turned to your reflection and grimaced. Clearly, it was too small, but you tried to remember what Yeeun said.

A medium dress from here could be an extra-large dress from another store.

“Y/N? How does it feel?” Yeeun called out.

Taking another deep breath, you opened the door and stepped out. She looked up from her phone and frowned. Your heart felt heavy as your stomach dropped. Did you really look that bad?

“Let me get a size up. See, this is what I meant when I said sizes are different in each store!” she called out while running back to the rack. She came back with a smile on her face. “I know it’s difficult to ignore what size the tag says. Trust me, a lot of people worry about it. I used to all the time, and I still do it every once in a while. But just remember that companies suck and they’re always fucking somebody over, whether that’s somebody that has a body more like Tess Holliday or somebody with a body more like Winnie Harlow. Now, switch into this dress and see how it fits.”

You did as you were told and looked at your reflection once again. Trying to keep in mind what Yeeun said, you thought about how the dress fit. It wasn’t cutting into your underarms anymore, and you felt like you could breathe without popping a stitch. When you stepped out, she squealed and clasped her hands together.

“You look so hot, no lie! How do you feel?” she asked.

“Little uncomfortable, but mostly because I don’t usually wear bodycon dresses,” you admitted. “But...”

“But?”

“But I think I could see myself wearing it. Maybe not to the party, but sometime in the near future.”

The grin on her face grew. “That’s what I like to hear.”

///

On the night of the party, Haechan was at Mark’s, leaving you alone with the apartment. You took your time getting ready, dancing around to the music that was playing on your phone. The party wasn’t for another couple hours, which gave you more than enough time to finish your makeup and hair. Your phone vibrated a couple times, but you figured it was just the group chat. They’d been blowing it up while you were in the shower, but you hadn’t read any of it.

You’d decided to wear the dress, telling yourself that you could leave if you felt uncomfortable. It was a big step for you, maybe even too big, but you wanted to try.

Once you were ready, you grabbed your bag and keys and opened your apartment door. On the other side was Jeno, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. You stumbled back a little in surprise, your eyes wide at the sudden appearance of your best friend.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.

“I texted you, asking if you wanted to get some ice cream. I figured I’d show up when you didn’t answer.” He looked you up and down with a smile. “You look very pretty. Where are you going?”

“Um, Yeeun actually invited me to her party,” you mumbled.

His eyebrows raised in shock. “Oh. I didn’t know you two were talking.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I ran into her when I went to pick up boba.”

He grinned. “Is that what that code pink was about?”

“Maybe. You aren’t mad, are you?”

“I’m a little upset that you didn’t tell me, but I understand why you didn’t. Besides, I’m almost over the breakup,” he assured you. “I can drop you off, if you want. I’ll be driving by the sorority on my way home, so it’s not like I’ll be going out of my way.”

“Fine, but only because I wanna drink but don’t want to take an Uber,” you reasoned.

The ride over was filled with Jeno’s soft playlist. He always listened to it when he was studying or trying to nap because it kept him calm, so you were surprised to hear it in the car. When you asked about it, he told you that he liked to listen to it when he was driving at night. “It kept the calm ambience,” was his short explanation.

“Call me if you need a ride home, okay?” he asked once he was parked by the curb. “Or text me if you don’t. Just—let me know you’re okay, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes with a grin. “Yes, Jeno. Thank you for the ride.”

You didn’t hear his car drive off until the front door was open. Stepping inside, you immediately felt lost. It was loud, it was crowded, and it smelled like alcohol. Looking around, you tried to find a familiar face, but nobody was standing out.

“Y/N!”

Turning to your left, your eyes landed on Yeeun. She was wear a red, strapless dress that hugged her figure. Her makeup was simple, but it didn’t matter when she was as gorgeous as she was. Her eyes lit up when she saw what you were wearing before she hurried over.

“You decided to wear the dress!” she shouted.

“I did,” you said with a smile.

“Well, you look absolutely stunning. Come on, let’s get you a drink, and then I’ll introduce you to my friends!”

Alcohol was just what you needed to loosen up. Soon, you were joking around with Yeeun and her friends, and then you were dancing, and then you were taking shots, and then you were stumbling. Sorn handed you another shot glass, which you downed despite Yeeun telling you to slow down. You ignored her and kept drinking.

///

The first thing you noticed was the smell of the room. It was familiar, but you didn’t know how. Then, it was how stiff your body felt. Finally, the headache. Could it even be considered a headache? It felt like someone just kept stabbing your skull. When you opened your eyes, the room was dark. The clock on the nightstand said that it was almost eleven, though, which meant the blackout curtains were drawn.

So, you were in Jeno’s room.

You slowly rolled over and knocked into the boy, groaning as your head seemed to hurt even more. Slowly, you turned until you were facing him. Well, facing his back. He was facing away from you, snoring away. Without hesitation, you threw your arm over his waist and clung to him as you buried your face into the back of his neck, which woke him up.

“Hm, good morning,” he mumbled.

“Hurts,” you whined.

“Yeah, you were almost passed out by the time I got to the sorority. Thank Yeeun for calling me,” he replied.

“She called you?” you asked, your stomach clenching. Was it from the hangover?

“Yup. Honestly, I was pretty shocked to see her name pop up when my phone rang, but I’m glad. She was worried something would happen to you, but she trusted me to take care of you.” He rolled over, and you could barely make out his face. You did see a frown, though. “That’s the last time I try helping you change without exposing or touching anything. Who knew you’d be the kind of drunk that tries to strip?”

“Oh my god,” you whispered while hiding your face in his chest.

“My reaction exactly.”

“You didn’t see anything, did you?”

“No. I managed to stop you as you untied the second strap.”

With a groan, you rolled away and sat on the edge of the bed. He laughed before following you, squeezing your shoulder as he got up. He promised to make you breakfast and get you painkillers while you showered. You took your time in the bathroom, making sure not a single centimeter of your body felt dirty and gross. When you were done, you got dressed in the same t-shirt and sweatpants before heading into the kitchen.

Jeno was facing the stove, cooking some eggs and hash. When he heard you shuffle in, his turned around with a smile, but it dropped almost immediately. You frowned, unsure of why he looked at you like that. Shutting off the stove, he put his spatula down and walked over. He stopped in front of you before slowly bending down and capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You froze in shock before relaxing, your whole body melting under his touch. When he pulled away, you opened your eyes and raised your eyebrows.

“Oh,” you said.

“What?” he asked.

“Well, that makes sense.”

Letting out a surprised laugh, he questioned, “What makes sense?”

“I don’t know. It just—it makes sense! You kissing me just makes sense!”

“You’re so weird,” he said with a grin before leaning down to kiss you again.

There was a lot that still needed to be talked about. Neither of you could simply enter a relationship before talking about your feelings and going on dates, but you decided to push that to the back of your mind while you enjoyed kissing Jeno.

(”Can we keep this a secret from the guys for a little bit?”

“How come?”

“Well, I wanna see the look on Haechan’s face when he makes that joke about us dating.”

“I’m sorry, he does what?”)

#nct #nct dream #jeno #lee jeno #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #jeno imagines #lee jeno imagines #nct jeno #nct dream jeno

[sleepysnk]

Team Player: Chapter Eight

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.5k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

A week or two had gone by, and things had been going well for Eren and (Y/N) surprisingly. The two actually were getting along pretty well, they both hung out a lot to help improve on his skills. The improvement was showing and she was satisfied with how much better he was doing compared to the previous weeks. 

Eren and (Y/N) were sitting in the library talking about their project which was due that coming Friday. 

"Does it look good?" Eren asked, leaning over to look at her laptop. 

She leaned back against her chair. "Yeah.. it's coming along nicely. It looks nice with the pictures you added," she said and smiled at him.

Eren looked at her as his smile grew. "Nah really it was all you," he replied, looking at his phone. 

Eren was feeling a lot better about his situation, (Y/N) also helped with his ankle. He was off the wrap and was now able to walk on it without limping, which was a huge gain for him. The pain meds did a pretty good job, as he was now off of them since his ankle was now pretty much healed.

"Hey Eren!" 

His eyes averted up to see Jean walking towards him. (Y/N) stayed focused on the project, she knew Jean since freshman year. He was one of the many people who knew about the whole incident, he took the video. She knew him and Eren were teammates.

"What's up?" Eren asked and nodded. 

Jean leaned against the wall. "Oh nothing I just saw ya and I wanted to say hey. Is that (Y/N)?" he asked, pointing at her. 

Eren looked towards her. "Yeah that's (Y/N), she's my partner for the project." he replied, running his fingers through his hair. 

"Hey (Y/N), I haven't seen you in forever." Jean said, a sly smirk forming onto his face. 

She looked up from her laptop. "Yeah.. it really does feel like forever ago," she replied and rolled her eyes. 

"You know… I forgot how cute you were. I miss being your lab partner sometimes," Jean said, eyeing her hungrily.

Something inside Eren made him want to hit Jean, he was talking to (Y/N) first, not him! Who does he think he is? He didn't like the way he was talking to (Y/N) either, it made anger bubble inside of him. He was never one to get mad, but this felt… different.

"We should hangout sometime you know? I can whip up some good food for you," Jean said and smiled at her. 

Heat rushed onto her cheeks as Jean was speaking to her. "U-Uh.. I don't know Jean," she replied, looking down avoiding his gaze.

He nodded. "C'mon (Y/N)! You're so pretty and I wanna show you how a guy should treat you," he said, leaning down towards her. 

"Jean. She seems clearly uncomfortable, just let it go. Plus I was talking to her first," Eren said, his voice stern and serious. 

Jean looked at him with raised brows. "Huh? Hm.. fine I guess. Just know the offer stands (Y/N)," he said, smirking at her. "See you later Eren," he added and made his way out of the library. 

A relieved sigh came from (Y/N)'s mouth. "Thank you for that Eren.. really," she said and placed her hand on his arm. 

He felt tingles coming from her touch. "U-Uhm.. of course! He just seemed like he was bothering you and I felt like you needed the assistance," he replied, smiling a bit. 

They sat there staring at each other for a few moments, Eren's eyes flickered towards her lips. His mouth slightly watering at the idea of leaning in and kissing her, they looked so soft and plump. 

"Eren?" (Y/N) said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. "My bad! What's up?" he asked, nodding his head. 

She giggled a bit at how cute he was. "I gotta head to my next class," she said and began putting her books into her backpack. "It kind of is important too," she added. 

Eren stood up. "Let me walk you to class, I'm gonna head to the practice field anyway." he said, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

She smiled and grabbed her backpack. The two exited the library and made their way to the other side of the campus building, the walk wasn't far but it was a pretty reasonable distance. The two chatted about everything that had been going on including the football game Eren was unsure of. (Y/N) assured him that everything would work out. 

"Here we are," she said and stopped at the door of the lecture hall. 

Eren looked down at her. "I hope you have fun in class," he said, chuckling a bit. 

She rolled her eyes playfully, hitting his arm. "Yeah sure! Because anatomy is so fun," she said and giggled. "Let me know what happens if you go to practice, okay?" she added. 

Eren felt a smile form onto his face hearing her laugh, it was so cute to him. 

"Yeah I'll let you know! See you later (Y/N)," he said and waved at her. 

She waved and entered her classroom, the day was now over for Eren. His classes were done and he didn't have much to do, so he decided to make his way towards the locker room. A place he hadn't been for awhile. He missed the way it felt when he walked in after school, his energy was high and it was all he looked forward to. 

He entered the locker room, many eyes bored into his head. Most of his teammates were speaking to him, most of them broke the ice and apologized for acting like idiots. Eren claimed their behavior was valid, considering what happened. 

Many of the players exited and went outside to the practice field. 

"Eren.. funny to see you here,"

He turned his head to see Reiner standing there in his practice uniform. 

"Yeah.. I uh, wanted to talk to coach," he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "You see em'?" he asked. 

Reiner sighed. "Yeah, he just went outside. How's your ankle?" he asked and looked down at it. 

Eren leaned against the lockers. "It's actually fully healed, the nurse cleared me and I can actually walk without a limp." he replied. 

The blonde nodded his head. "That's good to hear.. I hope to see you playing again soon," he said and patted his shoulder before exiting the locker room.

Eren made his way outside after Reiner, he felt the cooler air hit against his skin. A shiver went down his spine, he forgot what it felt like to play outside with this weather. He had been indoors so long his body wasn't used to the colder air. 

He spotted the players practicing blocks, throwing balls, or just doing the usual warmups for practice. Something Eren missed dearly. 

Eren's eyes caught the head of his coach, he was looking down at his clipboard, seeming to be going over the plays. His eyes flickered every so often to check on the people warming up. 

"Coach.." Eren said, looking down at the ground.

Coach Smith looked over at him. "Eren? What are you doing here? It's been quite a bit." he asked and nodded his head. 

He sighed. "Yeah it has… I um, I wanted to see how practices were going. My ankle is healed now," he replied, smiling a bit. 

His coach's eyes averted down towards his ankle, noticing it wasn't wrapped up anymore. 

He nodded his head. "I see… I'm happy to hear that really. How has your teamwork skills been working? Do you have any improvement?" he asked, looking over at him. 

Eren leaned against the bleachers. "Yeah! I've been working really hard actually," he replied. "I've done a lot," he added.

"The championship game is this Saturday… you don't have much time. Not having you at the game last week wasn't good," Coach Smith said, his eyes not leaving the players running around. 

Eren's eyes grew wide at his words, the game was already this soon? 

"Wait, it's this early? I thought it'd be later," Eren asked and furrowed his brows. 

His coach looked at him. "It's earlier because we won last week. I hope to see your improvement soon, you have until Friday to prove it to me. If not, you won't play and your offer for the Chief's becomes slim to none." he replied. 

Hearing those words come out of his mouth made Eren's mind race. He had less than 3 days to get ready for the game, that was barely any time! He had to do as much as he could now before then. 

"I won't let you down Coach.. I promise I can prove how much I've changed," Eren said and looked at him with determination.

Coach Smith nodded his head. "Good.. Mr.Zacharius will be there as well. He was quite disappointed hearing what happened the week before, watch it Eren. You need this season," he said.

He totally had forgotten about the scout that came to see him. If Eren messed up one more time all the offers headed his way would be off the table. That's an option he didn't want to come true. 

"I think I'll be able to do it," he replied.

"You think so? Let's see by Friday," Coach Smith replied, looking at him. 

Eren headed back towards the locker room, he had to find (Y/N).

-

Class ended fairly quickly for (Y/N). She was tired after a long day of helping Eren and doing homework assignments, she just wanted to collapse in bed and take a nap. 

She was sitting in her dorm on her laptop, typing away at her essay she had to do. Her roommate Sasha was out and about with her boyfriend Connie so she had some peace and quiet for the whole night. Maybe she could finish up in time?

A sudden banging on the door caused her to jump in her bed. Her heartbeat quickened at the sudden noise. 

Furrowing her brows, she stood up walking slowly towards the door. Did Sasha end up with some mafia? That girl was always full of surprises..

She put her hand on the cold door knob, hesitating a bit to open the door. 

"(Y/N)! Are you here?!" 

She knew that voice. 

It was Eren's.

She let out a sigh of relief as she opened the door to see him standing there. He seemed a bit flushed, like he was running or he was in a rush to come see her. 

"Eren? Jesus.. you scared me! I thought someone was trying to break in," she said, looking up at him. 

His brown hair was messy. "Sorry.. I should have texted. Can I come in?" he asked, nodding his head. 

She moved out of the way so he could enter her dorm. The faint smell of his vanilla cologne coming off his body filled her nose. 

"Are you okay? You seem like you're in a rush," she asked and plopped down on her bed, crossing her legs. 

Eren plopped down next to her. "Yeah I just needed to come find you," he replied, smiling a bit. 

She felt her cheeks becoming warm. "Well what's up? Did something happen?" she asked. 

He chewed his bottom lip. "I went to practice today and uh.. My coach told me I have until Friday to show my improvement. If not all my offers are off the table," he replied, looking down at the floor. 

Her eyes went wide realizing that Friday was a few days away. They barely had any time to prepare. 

"Shit…" she said, leaning against her bed frame. 

"Look if you can't help-"

"No Eren, I can help you. We just need to prepare," she said and looked around the room. Her mind raced with different thoughts or ideas on what to do. 

Eren was a bit surprised at her response. "We can find a way," he said with determination in his voice. 

She bit at the insides of her cheeks. "What if we went to the field, you know the practice fields? You do need some help throwing balls since you haven't been on your feet, and it can be some good practice." she said, nodding her head. 

Eren thought about the idea. It sounded great, plus he could use the extra practice before the game. It would show his coach that he was able to work well with his teammates and he could actually play without his ankle bothering him. 

"That sounds great, when though?" he asked. 

"How about tomorrow or Thursday?" 

He smiled. "Tomorrow would work best.. it gives us more time," he replied, looking up at her. 

She shook her head. "Alright.. um, tomorrow at 7? My classes end early," she said, opening her phone to add a reminder. 

"Sounds like a plan! I got nothing going on so we can for sure meet up," he replied, throwing a thumbs-up her way with a grin on his face. 

Her cheeks warmed at the sight of Eren smiling at her. She couldn't lie that his smile wasn't charming, it always drew her in somehow. 

"Okay great! I can meet you there," she said, looking at him. 

His emerald like eyes lit up with excitement. "Hell yeah! Ugh, (Y/N) you're the best!" he said before hugging her. 

She felt her face heat up as Eren pulled away quickly. "Oh shit! I'm sorry.. I-I didn't even- ugh shit- oh my god i'm sorry," he said, an obvious blush forming onto his cheeks. 

She laughed a bit. "No, don't worry! You're fine.. it was just a little random, that's all." she replied with a reassuring smile. 

He laughed, running his fingers through his brunette locks. "I just.. I don't know you seem huggable," he said, looking down to avoid her gaze. Embarrassment still written all over his face. 

"I like hugs if that helps," she said, giggling a bit. 

He smiled. "You are the best though, I didn't think you'd help me." 

She rolled her eyes as a playful smile formed onto her cheeks. "I'm not all that special. Plus you did let me do the project, so who was I to say no?" she said, leaning against the bed frame. 

The two stared at each other again, Eren's eyes flickering over her lips. There was that tension again, the way the two stared at each other as if they were waiting for one of them to make a move or lean in. 

"I should get going!" Eren said, breaking the silence between them. 

(Y/N) shook her head. "Oh yeah! Totally.. uh, I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked, cocking her head to the side. 

He smiled. "Yeah for sure.." he replied before standing up and grabbing his things. 

"Don't forget!" she said and opened the door for him. 

He looked back at her. "I won't.." 

She waved at him before shutting the door to her dorm. She plopped down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. 

"Ugh.. Eren, what am I gonna do about you?" she asked herself. 

It's crazy it's almost a week or two ago she despised the boy for everything he did. Now she was hanging out with him, giggling at his jokes, thinking about him. 

What was going on with her? What was Eren doing to her head?

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @erensapologist @luvrboykento @callmepromise @katsuhera @just-a-little-sad @bell0214 @flam3bird @moomii-hime @thicmitten @ryan249057 @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lunamoonawatcher @chayauwu @sofi-yeager

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #team player

[authenticcadence18]

Can’t Help Falling in Love Ch. 1

so uhhhhhhhhhhh.......i’m writing a Phinabella fic 😬

AO3

...

Phineas and Isabella are assigned the same song for their final project in their music appreciation class, and they have to work together to deliver a presentation based on it. They've been collaborating on projects together for their entire lives, so it should be easy, right?

Well. There's just one teeeeeeeeny problem. Their song is a love song.

This is a problem for Isabella because, despite her best efforts, she hasn't been able to let go of her feelings for Phineas.

And this is a problem for Phineas because he can barely be around Isabella without blushing and thinking about how wonderful she is.

Alas....the show must go on.

...

(story below the cut! also this fic is canon divergent and takes place a few months before “Act Your Age” would have. so...yeah!) 

Wise men say, only fools rush in.

But I can’t help falling in love with you.

...

“Alright, class!!! As you know, summer is fast approaching...and for some of you, it will be your last summer before moving on to the next chapters of your lives! To finish off the year, I thought I’d make your final project fun! ...you know, before we go into ‘state-mandated final exam preparation’ mode.”

Ms. Chase--Danville High’s resident teacher of all things musical--looked around the classroom at her students, most of whom didn’t look too convinced at said final project being “fun” at all.

“You’re all going to be given a song to deliver a performance of! This performance can be live or recorded, and you can make a visual interpretation of the song if you’d rather not sing or play in front of the class. The most important part of the project is that you demonstrate an understanding of the meaning of the piece you are assigned.

“And also, there’s a short essay involved.”

The entire class groaned at that.

“Hey now, I’m just following orders from upper management!” Ms. Chase insisted. “And besides! You won’t have to write the essays by yourself, you’ll all have a partner to help you!

“....oh, did I fail to mention that this is a group project? Because THIS IS A GROUP PROJECT!!!”

This elicited another groan from the students.

“Oh come on! You get to pick your partners!”

She gestured to two buckets on either side of the classroom.

“Well….sort of. There are 24 of you, and each bucket contains twelve songs. I’ll divide you in half, everyone will pick a song, and then you’ll go around the classroom to find who has the same song as you. They’ll be your partner!!”

A student raised her hand.

“Yes, Adyson?”

“No offense, Ms. Chase, but isn’t this entire process unnecessarily complicated? We’re already divided into groups of two. Why can’t we just choose a song we’ve covered over the semester and do the project with our desk partners?”

Ms. Chase smiled at her student. “Excellent question, Adyson! Normally I would let you choose your own songs and partners...but this time around, I want to take all of you out of your comfort zones. You’re about to enter the real world as adults!! Hopefully, this little project helps you learn it can be fun to think outside the box and collaborate with people you wouldn’t normally.”

She considered these words for a moment before shrugging and continuing, “Or, you might learn that sometimes you have to work with people you don’t like to succeed in life. That’s a valid lesson too.”

A few students chuckled at that.

“Alright, left side of the room, over here! Right side, over there! Choose your songs and find your partners!!!” Ms. Chase gestured to buckets on either side of the room. “And once you find them, find a table and have a seat!! They’ll be your new desk partners for the rest of the semester.”

...

“Well, at least I tried…” Adyson muttered as she stood from the table she and Isabella shared. “Sorry we don’t get to work together.”

“It was a good effort!” Isabella replied encouragingly as they crossed the classroom. “But you know how Ms. Chase is...once she gets an idea, no matter how elaborate or wild it may seem, she has to see it through!”

“Sounds familiar,” Adyson noted with a smirk and a pointed glance at a certain boy standing across the room near the opposite bucket.

Isabella followed Adyson’s gaze. The gears in her head whirred for a second, and then the meaning of her statement sunk in.  “...shut up, Adyson….” she grumbled with a frown, face flushing against her will.

...oh gosh. Was he looking at her?? Was he waving at her????

….why did he have to be so CUTE.

Isabella offered a forced smile in his direction and willed her heart to slow down as she looked away and continued after Adyson.

Upon reaching the bucket, Adyson dug around for a bit before withdrawing a sheet of paper. “Hey, I got ‘I’m Lindana and I Wanna Have Fun’’!! I love this song!!” she exclaimed happily as Isabella picked her own. “What did you get, Isabella?”

Isabella unfolded the slip of paper she’d taken from the hat...and her stomach dropped.

“...you’ve got to be kidding me.”

...

“So what songs do you think we’ll get, Phineas?”

“I’m not sure, Irving! We’ll just have to draw our songs and find out, huh?”

The bespectacled boy at Phineas’s side let out a dejected sigh. “Yeah….I wish WE could be partners….”

Though he’d never admit it, Phineas himself was rather relieved for the parameters of this particular project’s partner selection system. He liked Irving well enough, but after spending an entire semester sitting next to him in this music appreciation class (and several summers hanging out with him on occasion), he was more than ready for a bit of space from this particular friend.

Besides, there was someone else Phineas would rather be paired with instead…

His gaze subconsciously flickered across the room to a certain girl with a bow in her hair.

For a second, their eyes met because SHE WAS ALREADY LOOKING AT HIM.

Phineas managed to wave awkwardly in her direction without falling over.

She smiled back. Also awkwardly.

Adorably awkwardly.

“Whatcha lookin at?” Irving asked, glancing over Phineas’s shoulder.

“NOTHING!!!” Phineas blurted out, sharply turning his head the other way and willing his face to PLEASE STOP BLUSHING BEFORE ISABELLA NOTICED because WHAT IF SHE WAS STILL LOOKING AT HIM??  “I’m not looking at...nothing!!! Let’s just, uh…”

He flew at the bucket and thrust his hand in, pulling out the first song he grasped.

“Let’s just pick our songs!!!!”

Phineas unfolded the piece of paper in his hands, ready for the sense of relief that would swirl around him once he had a song and a creative vision in his mind.

….but the song he’d chosen didn’t bring any relief. If anything, it made the amount of butterflies currently fluttering around in his stomach increase tenfold.

“......oh boy.”

...

“Let me see!! Let me see!!!”

Isabella passed the scrap of paper to Adyson without a word, face blank. Adyson squinted at it before bursting into laughter.

“Adyson!!!!” Isabella hissed. “This isn’t funny!!! I don’t want to sing a love song!! Not in front of the whole class!! And certainly not in front of…”

She bit her lip.

“...well, you know!!!”

Adyson just rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Isabella. It isn’t as if you haven’t sung love songs in front of him in the past!!”

“...that’s the problem…” Isabella muttered, putting out a facade of irritability to hide the very real hurt growing in her chest.

Isabella had spent literal YEARS distancing her heart from her feelings for Phineas. Liking him and trying day in and day out to communicate her feelings to him with no success eventually became too painful to bear. Thus, she’d boarded up all those messy emotions and poured her efforts into school and work instead. She even intentionally went out of her way to avoid listening to any songs with romantic connotations (happy or sad), because they always reminded her of HIM.

So how was she supposed to stand in front of a classroom and deliver an authentic performance of a love song while he watched without thinking about him and the feelings she still harbored for him despite everything and how wonderful he was and….

“...maybe my partner will want to make a video instead…” she muttered quietly.

Adyson glanced at her friend and blanched when she noticed her downtrodden expression. “Oh gosh, please don’t get sad!!” she said quickly, placing a hand on Isabella’s shoulder. “I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have teased you. ...do you want to trade songs?”

Isabella sniffled and shook her head. “No, no, it’s okay...I need to do this. Maybe it will be therapeutic, in a way.

“And I don’t want to take your song away from you. You go have fun, girl!”

...

“What song did you get?” Irving asked, trying to sneak a peek at Phineas’s paper.

“Oh, just an Elvis song!” Phineas replied quickly.

He wasn’t particularly eager to discuss his song with Irving. Irving liked to talk.

More specifically, Irving liked to talk about HIM.

And Phineas didn’t want him discussing the fact that he was singing a love song to a class full of people that seemed to be all too aware of his own unrequited feelings for a certain classmate among them.

“What about you?” Phineas asked, eager to change the subject. “What song did you get?”

“I don’t know!!” Irving grasped a song from the bucket and unfolded it. His eyebrows furrowed. “...‘I’m Lindana and I Wanna Have Fun’? I think my MOM likes this song.”

“Hey, that’s a great song!!” Phineas said with a smile. He looked to the left and the right, feigning secrecy, before whispering,  “...MY mom IS Lindana, you know….”

Irving’s eyes widened. “WHAT????? ...HOW DID I NOT KNOW THAT???”

Phineas let out an inaudible sigh of relief as Irving’s gleeful smile grew wider and wider.

He suspected his own song was far from Irving’s thoughts at the moment.

“Well, I’m gonna go figure out who my partner is,” Phineas said. “Have fun! And if you want to talk to my mom about being Lindana at any point, I’m sure she’d love to chat with you and your partner!”

He left Irving hyperventilating excitedly in the corner.

Now to unpack the thoughts swirling around in his own head.

Phineas had to present a love song to the class.

And not just any love song.

A love song that hit a little too close to home concerning Phineas’s own love life…or lack thereof.

...it wasn’t like he’d WANTED to realize the fluttery, weightless way Isabella had always made him feel was in fact NOT normal and NOT how everyone felt around her.

Especially right before they started high school.

He didn’t ASK to turn into a blushing, stuttering mess whenever he saw her or even thought about her from that point on (which wasn’t as often as he would have liked...they’d seemed to drift apart JUST as he figured out his own feelings for her).

But Phineas couldn’t help it.

Isabella was just...so amazing.

How could he NOT be in love with her?

...and more pressingly, how was he supposed to discuss such a song with whoever his partner ended up being AND sing said song in front of their classmates without thinking of Isabella and dissolving into a blushy mess?

...

“...what song did you get, Ginger?”

“‘Chop Away At My Heart!’ I’m kinda surprised Ms. Chase even assigned this song, since it’s way more modern than what I was expecting. I’m not complaining though! Baljeet is obsessed with it, so I already know all the words!”

“That’s good!!”

“What song did you get?”

“Oh uh…..you know what, why don’t you just read the title for yourself?”

“....oh wow......have fun with that.”

...

“Hey, Phineas, what song are you doing?”

“Oh, it’s an Elvis song.”

“Nice! I have a Love Handel song.”

“Oh cool! Those guys are awesome.”

“Oh yeah, you’ve met them before, right?”

“Yup!! My siblings and I got them back together for our parents anniversary when we were kids. It was pretty cool. And then one time we helped them out by finding Klimpaloon to prove one of their songs was factual…”

“So awesome!! You know, I can’t wait to see your presentation! I’m sure it will be amazing, just like everything else you’ve made!”

“Oh, uh, yeah… I’m sure it’ll be great. I can’t wait to see yours!”

...

Gradually, pairs of students began forming as they matched songs with one another and took their seats to start brainstorming for their projects.

It eventually got to the point where only a few students remained searching for their partners.

Two of said students were, of course, Phineas and Isabella.

For the past ten minutes or so, they’d both done a remarkably effective job of avoiding one another. Isabella wanted to prolong the inevitable reality of presenting a love song in front of Phineas for as long as she dared, and Phineas didn’t trust himself to be able to casually discuss his song with Isabella without blushing as red as his hair.

They’d been so busy avoiding each other, in fact, that they didn’t realize neither of them had partners yet...until suddenly they were the only students left standing.

Isabella hadn’t considered this scenario. There were 23 other students in the class, and 11 other students besides Phineas choosing out of the other bucket. Statistically speaking, she’d had a pretty low chance of being partnered with him.

And EMOTIONALLY speaking, her brain had apparently refused to consider this scenario...the one where Phineas was the only student left standing...the one where Phineas clutched his piece of paper tightly to his chest, as if he didn’t want anyone else to see it...the one where he looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher but nonetheless made her head spin a little…

...the one where Isabella would almost CERTAINLY be forced to confront her feelings head-on for the first time in years.

In retrospect, she supposed she shouldn’t be surprised.

Isabella had always had interesting luck when it came to Phineas.

Phineas couldn’t move. Isabella was the only other student still standing, still looking for her partner, and he couldn’t move. His feet were stuck to the ground, as if he’d worn his heavy-duty steel-tipped sneakers by mistake today.

But he hadn’t worn his heavy-duty steel-tipped sneakers by mistake today.

The only thing keeping him glued to the ground was fear. And nervousness. And disbelief. And maybe a little bit of awe because was Isabella wearing a new bow today? It was pretty. She was pretty.

….Ok. So more than just fear was keeping him glued to the ground.

The thoughts in Phineas’s head were loud, far louder than any discussions his classmates might have been having with one another.

He was going to have to sing a love song with Isabella. He was going to have to discuss said song’s inherent romantic themes with Isabella. He was going to have to spend a lot of time in the next few weeks hanging out with Isabella.

A spark of clarity, of longing, emerged from that last thought.

He was going to get to spend a lot of time in the next few weeks hanging out with Isabella.

….he missed spending time with Isabella.

This realization gave Phineas the strength to finally lift his feet from the ground and walk towards his partner. She didn’t move as he approached: rather, she just gazed at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher.

If Phineas hadn’t known any better, he would’ve thought she was stuck just like he had been. He might have even let his heart flutter a bit.  

(But Phineas knew better. Isabella had no reason to be stuck. He was the lovestruck one here. Not her.)

“So uh...I guess we’re partners, huh?” Phineas voiced as he came to a stop at Isabella’s side. “ Keep it cool ,” he thought sternly. “ Isabella is your friend and you want to spend time with her and need to discuss the project with her. That’s it. No blushing. No stammering. Don’t think about how cute she looks. Don’t think about the lyrics of the song you’re presenting together. You’re just hanging out. Keep it together .”

Isabella managed a dry chuckle. “It appears so,” she replied. “Should we check our songs, just in case?”

Maybe there’d been some sort of mix up?

“Uh...yeah, I guess so,” Phineas replied hesitantly. He suddenly didn’t want to show her the scrap of paper clutched in his hands...though he knew it was irrational, he felt that showing her would be as revealing as a confession of his feelings, as if she could read his mind just by reading the title of the song he’d--no, they’d--been assigned.

“ It’s just a song… ” he assured himself as he opened his hands to reveal the paper inside.

...but it wasn’t really just a song.

“Here.” Isabella held her scrap out to Phineas as she accepted his.

Deep down, before they even confirmed the fact, they both knew there hadn’t been a mix-up with the papers. There were no other students standing, so there was no reason for them not to have been assigned the same song.

(And obviously they’d been assigned the same song...because if they hadn’t, this wouldn’t be much of a story, would it?)

“Ah, I see Isabella and Phineas are our last pair of partners!” Ms. Chase exclaimed, causing both of them to start. “What song did you guys get?”

Phineas and Isabella’s eyes met, and though there was no way, NO WAY, the other understood how they were feeling in this moment, there was a sense of solidarity...and maybe something more...in their gazes.

They could do this.

“....we got ‘‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’.”

...

Thank you sm for reading!!! This is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever posted, so the fact that you are reading it at all means the world to me🥰. (Writing Phinabella fic is how I got started writing fanfiction, but this is the first one I've ever posted so...it's a little nerve-wracking, haha!)

I will be posting more soon!!! I have the gist of the story planned out (and parts of a later scene already written 😶), now I just need to write it!

Also THANK YOU @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for being my beta, even though you don’t know much about this fandom, and for being so encouraging!!! :))))

#cadence writes #aksdjfkasdhfkajsdk i can't believe i'm posting this #aaah #phineas and ferb #phinabella #phinbella #phineas and isabella #isabella and phineas #phinabella fanfic #this is just like...peak self indulgence #LOL #isabella garcia shapiro #phineas flynn #can’t help falling in love

[anniesarthistoryblog]

A Review of three works from the ‘Shape and Form’ Exhibition at @heartofthetribe Gallery, Glastonbury

As our final assignment for our Art History module for @strodefad​ we were required to write an essay discussing eithere an art history movement or a recent exhibition visited. Always up for a challenge i chose to write about the brief opportunity I got to see an art gallery between lockdowns in the new gallery that i am fortunate to have just a few minutes walk from my home here in Glastonbury.

What made it a really special experience was that i managed to contact two of the three artist I chose to include in the essay and they very generously answered my questions about their exhibit pieces to give me some context and process insights as first-hand accounts and it was wonderful to be able to ask the creators quesitons about their work and how they made it. The exhibition had high quality contributions from over 30 Somerset artists, so it was hard to select just 3 works, but  I managed and got the essay completed in time.

This is an analysis of three selected works from the ‘Shape and Form’ exhibition at the Heart of the Tribe Gallery in Glastonbury. The gallery only opened in September 2020 and despite the restrictions caused by the COVID pandemic, this was the third exhibition that the gallery has managed to stage since then.

Following a core artist group launch exhibition ‘Diversity’, and solo exhibition ‘Beauty and Truth’ by John Minshull, this exhibition was a collation of works submitted by 30 Somerset artists following an open call for contributions from the gallery core artists and online directory members.

Curated by gallery manager Kim von Coels (aka artist ‘The Krumble Empire’), the aim of the exhibition was ‘to explore the fundamental building blocks of visual art, both geometric and organic’. The exhibition was open from 3rd December -26th January and I managed to see it twice before lockdown restrictions came into force. A virtual tour (1) is also available here

1. Millie Gleeson: ‘All We’ll Know’

The Painting was displayed in a prominent position on the last wall as you exit the exhibition, directly opposite a canvas featuring an abstract female form in greyscale graphite, and the scale of this canvas (60 x 48 inches) made it really stand out.

I saw Millie’s solo show also entitled ‘All We’ll Know’ at the Red Brick Building in June 2019. She uses reference photographs to help with composition and is heavily influenced by her time in Berlin and Mexico.

Many of her works feature masks painted on the (mostly nude) female subjects, so what I found fascinating about this piece was that the face was illuminated and prominent and she is swathed in billowing robes.

I contacted the artist for more information on the context and process of the painting.

She told me this is a self-portrait, painted from a 'still' of the artist performing in a music video her friends (the Hics) produced, also called "All We'll Know"( 2 )

Gleeson started began painting this in 2014, but it was put into storage until she revisited to complete it in 2019.

She commented ‘it was a huge time of transformation and the end of an era and perhaps I had to return to the painting when I felt I'd fully transformed.’

The Painting has lots of movement, which is representative of the video it is sourced from, the performers are in an industrial setting and are either submerged under water, or as captured in this image, rising up and breaking free. The robes are flowing and there is a sense of movement in the arms and legs. Her website (3) describes how the work was developed as part of a series developed during an Artist Residency at Arquetopia in Mexico.“The residency applied Levanasian ethics to the artistic process, teaching to respect the integrity of differences and question the desire for totalisation. Questioning whether you can truly know the other and if you only know the self, how can you respect the space between?” “Any creative project I have embarked on at the core has revolved around the topic of identity or identification. Following the residency lectures my project became entirely introspective, leading me on a journey of self-discovery. I began to look at my own shadow, distortions, fractions, mirror images, deep and dark aspects of myself. Using the vibrant colours that surrounded me I began to explore my own conflicts and duality through a series of self-portraits, in an exploration to “All we’ll know.”I really resonated with this piece as it reminded me of the Salvador Dali painting ' Christ of St John of the Cross’ I saw at the Glasgow Kelvingrove museum. Light comes from above and the arms are widely placed. The pale blue colour palette and rich drapery in the dress against the dark background is similar to that shown in ‘The Countess of Southampton’ ( 4) (Anthony Van Dyck 1599-1641), seen at the Cambridge Fitzwilliam museum.

Ruary is an Edinburgh-born artist who has lived and worked all over the world and is a gallery core artist working in an attic studio above.

He is inspired by nature and psychedelic culture (6) and another of his works ‘Sacred Chaos’ was chosen as the exhibition feature image.

I interviewed the artist to learn more about the context and process behind these works. Ruary explained that “Trap Dance was a process-oriented piece, created as an experiment using masking tape to create random abstract geometric forms”.

The piece depicts two females and a male dancing, with Cubist and Italian futurists-influenced segmentation and distortion of the figures. The artist noted that the title ‘Trap Dance’ is a pun, as the two female figures appear to be being pressed together by the male dancer (Allen quipped it should have been called ‘Tape Dance’). The experimental process with repeated randomly placed masking tape and paint until the forms emerged, resulted in an abstract image.

The artist saw the forms of the dancers appearing and added them at late stages of development. It is more narrative in comparison with the cover piece ‘Sacred Chaos’; which was another process oriented, straight-edged construction using platonic forms, mathematical constructions, intersecting circles and combining them to make a striking abstract image. The artist has a lifelong interest in Alchemy in art and alchemical symbolism, and this is evident in the works presented here (7).

The colour palette is cooler at top and has more vibrant and darker tones at bottom, with a spotlight in the top left corner, which the artist suggests is reminiscent of a stage or nightclub scene. There is lots of movement as the figures are interweaved amongst the abstract shapes.  

This painting is hung in a long narrow corridoor directly opposite the toilets (another ‘trap’ reference?) and adjacent to the exit door to the garden space. The works surrounding the piece are smaller in scale and have less visual impact, and I think that having to stand so close to it makes it more of an experience as the viewer is drawn into the movement and abstract forms on the canvas. There is no opportunity to stand back and see the work in a wider context so one is trapped like the dancers in the image.

3. ‘Lost Toys’ by Julie Ackerman .

This is an installation assemblage sculpture piece selected from a collection of 10 museum themed boxes. (8). The work is inspired by the ‘cabinets of curiosities’ or ‘Wunderkammer’ (as described by Anastasiya Gutnic from the Metropolitan museum of art here with an example from the German artist Nicolaus I Kolb) (9).

The cabinet is displayed with a second piece called and ‘Science Lab’ and both are relatively small in scale requiring the viewer to lean in close to see the details.

Key elements of a Wunderkammer are:

·       Naturalia (natural, found objects),

·       Artificialia/Artifacta (mand-made, abstract objects), and

·       Scientifica (scientific instruments and technological items)

The cabinet contents are carefully considered to reflect the message that the artist is trying to express, and fits the categories described above.

I chose this piece as the lockdown period has made many of us question what is important to us and question our consumerism and its’ environmental impact.Using upcycled packaging and materials has been a theme of my own creative practice this year.

The artist states on her biography (8)

“I was compelled to take on the challenge of using unwanted objects and materials as an art medium. Raising awareness of a world in crisis through art is paramount in my work. By transforming waste into beautiful works of art, I hope to inspire and encourage the 'Art of Recycling' turning a negative situation into a positive one.”

The artist goes on to state “The impact of overpopulation means greater demand on natural resources and an escalating waste problem. We need nature to thrive by reducing our demand for new materials, leaving nature intact.”

In the ‘Lost Toys’ cabinet a collection of sticks and a pine-cone (Naturalia) are surrounded by a plastic ‘monster’ (Artificialia) and assorted toy animals. A green butterfly rests on a branch with a wooden ’tribal style’ peg and a ‘protective’ dragon flying overhead and a lurking toy hairbrush in the background.

The second cabinet has scientific paraphernalia (Scientifica) and a skull with glasses, references to the impact of sanitary waste and plastic pollution on marine life. There are also humorous touches, like the small creature and drawing pin on top of the skull.

This fits with the exhibition theme as it invites the viewer to examine how the items relate to each other and to our own experiences. Viewers will respond to the individual elements and interpret their relationships differently.

The placing of the cabinets in a transition space between two rooms containing large paintings is also an interesting variation in form and requires a different type of interaction by the viewer.

Summary

The aim of the exhibition was to explore the fundamental building blocks of visual art, both geometric and organic, and the curator has selected a broad range of 2D, and 3D exhibits to really allow this theme to be represented. I found it quite difficult to select only three works for this essay as there was such a high quality to choose from.

These three selected artists have interpreted the theme in quite different ways, but one gets a sense of shape and form from all of their works shown.

References  

1.       Shape and Form Exhibition Virtual tour: https://www.infohost360.com/heart12/

2.       Millie Gleeson – The Hics reference video "All We'll Know" https://youtu.be/RB2MweTwfQY.

3.       Millie Gleeson website: https://milliegleeson.co.uk/all-well-know

4.       Van Dyck Image reference found in Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge guide, p37. 2016 ISBN: 978-0-9574434-9-5

5.       Image sourced from https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/rachel-de-ruvigny-countess-of-southampton-as-fortune-5613

6.       Ruary Allen Artist Bio:  https://heartofthetribe.com/portfolio_page/ruary-allan/

7.       Ruary Allen Artist website:  https://artalchemist.com/

8.       Julie Ackerman Artist Bio: https://heartofthetribe.com/artist-directory-view-by-artist/user/77/

9.       Cabinet of Curiosities reference video: https://youtu.be/j6q10euArks Nicolaus I Kolb (German, 1582–1621). Apothecary Cart, 1617–18. Veneer: ebonized pearwood (Pyrus communis), ebony, partially gilded silver; carcass: conifer; interior: protective quilted cushion covered in red silk, drawers and chest lined with red silk velvet; gold, trimming; mounts and fittings: brass, partially gilded; thirty-two (32) vessels and utensils: glass, partially gilded silver, low carbon steel, leather, 11 x 11 x 9 1/16 in. (28 x 28 x 23 cm). The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Purchase, Anna-Maria, and Stephen Kellen Acquisitions Fund, 2019 (2019.229.1a–c–.32a, b)

10.  Cabinet of Curiosities reference description: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cabinet_of_curiosities

11.   Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, "How to do visual (formal) analysis," in Smarthistory, September 18, 2017, accessed January 28, 2021, https://smarthistory.org/visual-analysis/.

#artists on tumblr #art history #glastonbury #ruary allen #millie gleeson #julie ackerman #heart of the tribe #strodecollegeartdepartment #anniesartthings #anndimentartist #artalchemist #the hics #wunderkammer #all we know #local gallery #shape and form #ual art and design

[prettywordsyouleft]

Through His Eyes - Part 8

Summary: Losing your sight after your accident was traumatic, and Jaebum’s guilt of knowing it should have been him instead creates an intricate bond between you both, as you overcome adversity and try to find your way in life again.

Genre: angst / romance

Characters: Im Jaebum x female reader

A/N: This story is emotional and raw compared to some of the content on my blog. It is in no way an attempt to glamourise or undervalue the lives of those who suffer from something similar. This story is purely fictional.

Through His Eyes will be posted every Tuesday at 10am NZST.

Index: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 [M] | 13 - FINAL

“I’m home,” you called out after successfully unlocking the door to your apartment within the first three attempts and stepped inside. You turned and bowed to your new minder, Suzie, and fare-welled her before closing the door.

“You’re home much earlier than I anticipated.”

You sighed heavily, stepping into your slippers and following the ramp up into the living area. You were now used to calculating your steps in the back of your mind as you did other tasks, and placed your bag down on the table before heading to the refrigerator. Feeling in the door for a bottle of water, you pulled one out and took it over to a chair at the table. “Don’t ask.”

“You seem unhappy, was your day bad?” You heard another chair pull out and your mother sat down, reaching for your hand gently. You frustrations eased with her touch, and you forgot all about your initial barrier of continuing the conversation.

“I have to do a group project.”

“On what?”

“We’re reading a classic novel called Jane Eyre at the moment and instead of doing an essay on it, which I would have much preferred, our lecturer has assigned us into groups of four to come up with a presentation on a topic within the novel. And of course, none of my partners are happy they got stuck with me.”

“I’m sure they aren’t that put-”

You placed your bottle down with more force than needed and shifted your head towards her direction. “They must think blind people are deaf as well, because they didn’t seem to realise I was nearby when they started to complain about having a disadvantage!”

“Oh.” Your Mum shifted uncomfortably in her seat, no doubt feeling angry hearing of another incident of you being singled out. You felt sorry for her having a daughter that faced so many woes within her education, when in the past you had never caused her any need to be concerned about your academics.

“And to top it off, others were very happy to not have me in their team. Do they think I can’t do the project because I’m blind?!”

“You work even harder than the average student to make sure you don’t fall behind. I’m sure when they realise that, they’ll be more accommodating towards you.”

You shook your head. “It shouldn’t be that I have to prove to them that I’m good enough though. They have no idea who I am, and how many offers I used to get from artists and galleries for my work in the past.”

“But that isn’t who you are now, Y/N,” she reminded gently, and you snapped your head towards her again, anger rising within your chest. She seemed to sense it and reached for your hand once more, which you shook off immediately. “It’s hard I-”

“IT’S ALWAYS HARD, ISN’T IT?!”

Getting up in a rush, you stumbled towards your bedroom and then slammed the door shut, panting heavily with your outburst. Soon the tears came and you sank to the ground, wrapping your arms around you for comfort. Ignoring the knocking and the calls on the other side of the door, you felt ashamed for taking your mood out on her. You hated that even when you were hurting the most, you still felt guilty towards how much she did for you every day and the sacrifices she had taken to help you.

“But for one day, I wish she would just allow me to complain without giving me the known answer,” you mumbled aloud before burying your head into your arms.

Two days went by and your mood had darkened further with the lack of faith from your fellow partners with the presentation. Since it was the weekend, your mother went to help your Aunt run her vegetable store, which you welcomed greatly.

You didn’t intend to move from bed for the entire day.

Around mid-morning, your stomach had other ideas however, so you relinquished to the hunger and went out to make some breakfast. Once fed, you stood within the middle of the living room, wrestling with your options. Bed had been your original safety zone, but now that you were up, it was tempting to go on your computer and waste your day listening to Youtube videos, catching up with online friends in the blind community, and peruse some trivial websites. After grabbing a bottle of water, you headed back into your room and opened the curtains, wincing at the same time as rejoicing in the bright light invading the room. It was an odd experience, you hated the intensity of the light at times, yet it made you feel as close to normal in your greyscale world as you could be.

“Let’s check my emails first,” you said to yourself as you set about the computer, mimicking the sounds the accessibility settings did as you navigated your way around the device. You opened your emails one after the other, listening through the message the robotic voice delivered and then discarded or replied to them as necessary. You were onto the last email when you froze, listening to the message as a cold sweat rushed over you.

“Y/N is invited to the opening of Lee Jaemin’s debut art exhibition, by the title of Expressive. The event-”

The computer started making incomprehensible sounds as you banged on the keyboard to make it stop talking, your breathing becoming erratic. You held your hands to your heaving chest as the sentence repeated over and over in your head, your body shaking at the idea of the girl opening her own exhibition. She had been your biggest competition throughout the years and had always come second to you in major events. Now with you out of the competition, not only had she been able to take your places within the local art scene, but was also offered what you had been working towards earlier this year.

For the first time since the accident, you hated Im Jaebum. For those first few moments, as you digested the information, you cursed your love of GOT7, of kpop, of even knowing the seven men existed. As your body shook all over with anger, you wanted nothing more than to return to the day you had won the exclusive pass and decline the opportunity.

You wanted your career back.

Yet, just as fast as it came, your mind travelled to that fateful moment, your once seeing eyes widening as you noticed the faulty beam first. Your instant reaction to save him, and the weight of the beam hitting you before it all went black. As the tears fell rapidly, your thoughts stopped on every gesture Jaebum had done for you since your world had turned upside down. The anger subdued for a bit, as you coped with the intense grief and guilt you suffered from wishing the beam onto him briefly instead. You rocked back and forth in the chair, unable to cope with the rapid directions your emotions were taking you, hoping your thoughts would ease off.

Instead, your needs narrowed onto one thing and you eventually stood up, heading out of your room as you roughly wiped the tears aside, as if the removal of them would assist in your blind search through the apartment for what you required. Feeling yourself around the walls, you found the storage closet and began using your hands and other senses to locate what you knew your mother hadn’t thrown out like you had insisted her to. It didn’t take long, your fingers falling upon the well-known texture of canvas, shifting along to find four others beside it. You yanked them all out from their hiding spot, tapping around on the ground for any of your tools. You found a bag and pulled that out as well, stopping when you banged into something as you moved the bag. You took that out too and then dragged your discoveries out around you, dropping in between it all and taking a steady breath.

You felt irrationally calm in that moment, and not because you were finally surrounded by what your life had consisted of. The need to feel each object in a slow, methodical examination outweighed anything else, letting your fingers run over every inch of each item. You became familiar all over again with how your tools felt, brushes and sculpting tools all being recognised by your hands. You soon realised the item next to the bag was the prized vase you had made earlier in the year, the ribbons awarded to it still attached. Your attention soon turned to the canvases, the bumps and textures making you think of all the Braille lessons so far, except the words were spoken in an art form, with no distinct answer as to what each piece was. For an immeasurable time, you attempted to guess what was which piece you had created. Every time you thought you had an answer, the next bump of paint would throw you off, frustrating you further. By the fifth canvas inspection, you were rigid, unable to understand anything you were touching.

The pent up emotions built until you could no longer suppress them and you got up, throwing the canvas down with a heavy thud. The sound it made seemed to provoke some kind of release in you and so you bent down, fumbling to find something else to throw, becoming fully invested in destroying everything you had just spent intricate effort in deciphering. The more noise, the more vigorous your actions became until the sound of the shattering clay hit you as if you were shattering your own heart. You crouched down in exhaustion from your emotions, crying consistently until you heard the keypad signal go off.

You didn’t have any energy to move to greet your mother, or to do anything about cleaning your mess either. You waited for her scolding to begin but the rushed feet towards you sounded too heavy to be her. You were confused and for a moment, you guarded yourself, not knowing what to expect.

“What…” You heard Jaebum utter and this was enough to make your legs give out, a cry leaving your lips as you landed on the shards of clay. “Y/N what are you doing?!”

“How did you know the passcode?” you asked tiredly, not giving him any help in lifting you away from the destruction scene. All the same, he attempted to pick you up again, your body trying to fight but had no energy left to leave any effect. He placed you down on the couch and you glared at what you hoped to be his direction. “Im Jaebum!”

“Your mother called me,” he explained, his hands ceasing in their examination of injuries. He shifted back, concerned at how you had spoken. “She told me you were having a hard time and so I said I would come and see you today in between my schedules. I was outside banging and pressing the doorbell, but you didn’t hear me at all. So I used the code I’ve seen you put in.”

You didn’t answer, unable to decide if you were angry with him for interrupting or thankful for his presence.

“Why were you doing that?” he questioned softly, his hands slowly returning to your legs. “Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“I don’t care.” You looked away from him and tried to push his hands away. He grabbed your hand instead, his gentle nature having an effect on easing your frustrations. Even so, you attempted to hold onto the agitated emotion for as long as you could. “You should just go.”

“I’m not leaving you like this, you should see this place!”

“I wish I could!” you blurted out, and his grip on your hand eased off. You got up shakily from where he had put you and walked back down to where you had been. He grabbed you before you stepped on anything and you pointed to it desperately. “This is me, this is my world. Do you see how shattered this all is now? That is me!”

“Is it really?”

You nodded fervently. “You told me to express how I feel so I am! I’m sick of becoming something new. I am not an English Lit major, but an Art and Design student! I created all of this myself! Now… now I can’t even paint a single line across a piece of paper! Whilst people who I had worked hard to impress for years are now giving Lee Jaemin all the opportunities I was aiming for, I’m here in sweatpants and a tee with no hope of looking good to anyone, let alone impress them that I am someone to invest in. I’m here unable to do anything I want to because, because-”

“Because of me,” Jaebum concluded from behind you, lowering his head to your shoulder and his body began to shake with his own emotions. You moved around in his arms and hugged him tightly, both crying until you could no longer.

For some time you didn’t speak, not having any words to share with each other. And then you felt Jaebum move away from your side, his hands reaching for something on the ground. “This is beautiful.”

“What is?”

“This sunrise over a building top,” he mentioned and your mind went towards the artwork you had created after watching their You Are music video. “It’s captured beautifully.”

“It was inspired by you.” “It was?” You nodded and felt Jaebum move back to your side again, his hand reaching for yours and passing you the canvas. You felt the weight within your hand and sighed.

“I painted it after the You Are MV.”

“Ahh.” He was silent again, but moved back to the mess upon the floor. From his examination, three of the canvases were salvageable, whilst two remained helpless on the floor with the ceramic vase.

“I guess there is a lot of mess to clean up,” you said sadly, lowering your head and holding onto the sunrise canvas more preciously than you had all day.

“But we can clean it up and heal from it together,” he replied firmly, referring to more than the physical mess you had made.

You smiled, nodding your head. “I like the sound of that.”

_________________

[Part 9]

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#im jaebum #jaebum #got7creators #kwritersworldnet #got7 imagines #got7 scenarios #got7 fiction #got7 fanfic #got7 angst #got7 romance #jaebum scenarios #jaebum imagines #jaebum fiction #jaebum fanfic #jaebum angst #jaebum romance #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop angst #kpop romance #pwyl; through his eyes #prettywordsyouleft writes

[briannamarq]

Brianna Marquez 2/6/20 SB#7

1.    Identify:

I completed session #1 on Thursday, March 5 at 1:37 pm with Jennifer Johnsen. This tutoring session was a drop in session.

I completed session #2 on Thursday, March 5, at 2:04 pm with Madi. This tutoring session was a schedule appointment.

2.    Post:  Describe the session from start to finish:

How did the tutor open and close the session?  

Session #1: The tutor began the session by greeting herself and gave the tutee a couple of moments to settle in and get her paper up and running. During that time, she asked what the session was to focus on, which was written on paper. Then began the session in reading the essay together. The session was closed by reviewing what they had discussed, creating a game plan/next step, once there wasn’t any last-minute questions or clarifications, the tutor leads the tutee to the computer to sign out.

Session #2: The tutor began by introducing herself and asking how their day had been so far. This allowed the tutee to gain comfortability and take a moment to settle in. The tutor followed up with how to they could help them today. The tutee acknowledges the course they were in and that the professor recommends going to the specific tutor. Once brainstorming was identified as the main target of the session. The session began. Once the session was coming to a close, the tutor summarizes the main points that were discussed during the session. Along with creating a game plan, the tutor was supportive while the tutee filled out the tutor visit form. The tutee had been to the center before, and remember the exit processed, the tutor walked them over and confirm both exit steps were met.

How did this observation complement the issues raised in the WMC videos we’ve seen so far?

Session #1: This observation was a perfect example of being a reflection of what the tutee is presenting with. Throughout the session, the engagement from the tutee was closed to nonexistent. The tutor did an amazing job of keeping the ball in their court, asking them questions, and working with the replies given and not doing the work for them. The tutor took their time in and didn’t rush the session even though the tutee wasn’t super involved in the session.

Session #2: This observation complemented the issues raised in the videos, by allowing the tutee to explain their thought process. Since this was a brainstorming session with an outline, the tutee was able to ask questions and speak out to get more clarity on what they want to discuss. This session was a little different, with the tutor being an in class tutor in the past for this professor, which allowed more insight and specific comments/ suggestions that pertain to the course and the professor’s wants.

Where there any challenging moments in the session?

Session #1: The challenge that I saw most obvious in the session, was the tutee’s lack of knowing exactly what they wanted to work on in their paper. To follow with that, the tutee seemed reluctant and wanted the tutor do confirm and do the work for them.

Session #2: The challenge in this session was not letting the conversation be directed towards the class setting and the professor’s wants, and keeping focused on the brainstorming and outline process. While the communication wasn’t bad, it was helpful for the tutee to best understand the overall objective of the assignment and making sure they are hitting those points in their paper.

What kinds of questions did they ask? (identify w/cognitive level of Bloom’s taxonomy).

Session #1: The tutor began the session by asking questions about the prompt and the needs of the tutee, to best understand and evaluate. The tutor asked questions such as, “What are we working on today? What do you want me to focus on in your paper? Could you be more specific in where to focus on, when it comes to clarity?” This allowed the tutor to focus on the patterns and find commonalities in the writing that can be improved or revised by the tutee.

As the tutor was working with the tutee, to best analyze and evaluate the work, when the tutor made a suggestion or recommendation, they would find statements or questions that would help the tutee apply what they are learning to their own work. The tutor would ask questions like, “Do you want to write this down? Would you like me to highlight this for you to remember later? What format is your professor looking for? Would you like a guide to best cite your sources?” All of the questions were opportunities for the tutee to incorporate themselves and be the editor, rather than leaving it up to tutor to do the work for them.

Session #2: This session and the questions asked from both the tutor and tutee were focused on the creative level. The tutor was asking questions like, “what do you hope the professor and reader would understand from your paper?” then would follow up with “do you think your outline displays those objectives?” The focus throughout the session was allowing the tutee to create their own point of view while meeting the requirements of the course and the prompt.

What was the “ratio” of them talking vs listening? What did you learn from the session?

Session #1: The ratio of the tutor talking vs. listening, was learning towards more talking in the beginning of the session. The tutee seemed shy and hesitated, but once asked questions, they opened up and took more of an imitative. I learned that a tutor should reflect what the tutee is presenting in terms of attitude and willingness. But in the beginning the tutee may be reluctant and to work through it as much as possible, then reflect the energy being given.

Session #2: This session’s ration was an amazing balance, for both tutor and tutee. When one was talking the other was attentive and listening, not interrupting. There was only a few moments of paused silence, due to either the tutee or tutor writing, but wasn’t more than a minute or two. I gained a great deal of this session, and the best outtake was that let when brainstorming let the tutee speak. Sometimes they just need to say ideas out aloud to clear out their brain and rearrange their outline and objectives.

3. Draw and Post a Sketch

[rewrite-the-wrongs]

introductions / howdy, pardner

My first short story was about a fishboy and his human best friend. They battled a mutant piranha (whose name I think may have been Mutant Piranha, such was the monumental daring of my creative endeavor) and his army, who were out to destroy a mountain that held a whole planet together. The boys won singlehandedly, because scale was apparently a bit of a mystery to me.

This was the second grade. My teacher--who held me every day as I cried for weeks, confused and miserable and stranded in the throes of my parents’ divorce--understood before I did that I create to a ploddingly slow and steady drumbeat. A sentence is always so much more in my head than I’m able to let out, at first; I have to pore over it again and again, fleshing and flourishing (and often correcting) it, the same way I often have to reread paragraphs or pages or whole books to truly capture their meaning. In a word processor, this back-and-forth is as easily said as it is done; on double-wide ruled paper with dashed-line handwriting guides, the task is magnitudes more time-consuming, especially for somebody as messy as I am. So, while nearly everybody else played at recess on the sandlot and the jungle gym around us, a select few stragglers laid our reading folders on our laps and finished our stories.

My villain, that dastardly Mutant Piranha, found himself in prison at the story’s close. Awaiting trial, I guess; I never ventured that far ahead, seeing the big fishy bastard for a coward. “When no one was looking, he stabbed himself.” That’s the last line, stuck in my memory, not for its own sake, but for my poor teacher’s horrified face as she read my final draft there on the playground.

A mom volunteered to type up the class’ stories and get them printed and bound. For years afterward I reread that collection, always proud to have written the second-longest piece therein. I felt the weight of the pages, inhaled the tiny but acrid breeze that came from rapidly leafing through them. Knew it was a whole smattering of worlds inside, that one of those worlds was wholly mine, and I had the power to show it to people however I wished. Yes, I thought, I want this.

*

I’ve been introduced to writing many times over, by many people. Don’t get me wrong--I nightowled the first several chapters to many half-baked novel concepts all through my youth. But teachers have a way of showing a thing to you from new angles.

The first person to impact me as such was a high school teacher who was essentially given carte-blanche to construct a creative writing workshop in the English curriculum. The first semester was structured--you practiced poems, short fiction, humor and essay writing, drama, the gamut. Every semester after, the carte-blanche was passed on: A single assignment due a week, each a single draft of a poem or a minimum of two pages’ worth of prose. Forty-five minutes a day to work, and of course free time at home. By the time I graduated, I’d finagled my schedule such that I was spending two periods a day in the computer lab, and several hours after school every day working the literary arts magazine before I went home to get the rest of my homework out of the way and write some more..

My next big influence came in the form of  a pair of writers who taught fiction at my university, a married couple. One had me print stories and literally, physically cut them up section-by-section as a method of reworking chronologies. Told me stories happened like engines or clocks or programs--pieces that meshed differently depending on how they were put together, rules that held each other in place. The other showed boundless confidence in me, listened happily to some older students who recommended I be brought on board for a national arts mag. They both encouraged me toward grad school, but toward the end of my junior year I began to stumble, and by senior year I was, to be frank, a drunken asshole. Time I could be bothered to set aside for writing began to dwindle. I limped through the editorship with the help of my extremely talented, utterly more-than-worthy successor--and come to think of it, I’ve never truly thanked her. Maybe I’ll send her that message, now that I’m feeling more myself.

*

On feeling more myself:

That drunken rage was brought on by a myriad list of factors, the primary ones being 1) I am the child of recovering alcoholics, and our inherited family trauma runs deep, 2) An assault that will likely be mentioned no further from hereon in, as I have reached a solid level of catharsis about it, 3) Some toxic-ass relationship issues, and 4) I was a massive egg and had no idea (or, really, I had some idea, just not the language or understanding or even the proper empathy to eloquently and effectively explore it).

I had a recent relapse with drinking, technically--a mimosa at Christmas breakfast at my partner’s parents’ home--but I’m not honestly sure I can call it a legitimate relapse. I’m not in any official self-help group, I’ve never engaged in the twelve steps or a professional rehabilitation. I had a very wonderful therapist for a few years but reached a point at which I could not pay her any longer and we parted ways--I miss her dearly, as she truly became my friend and confidante; she was the first person I came out to, and very well-equipped to handle it, lucky for me--but I’m still on behavioral medication. That tiny smidgen of alcohol pushed my antidepressants right out of my brain, and I became terribly anxious and angry and sad all at once, and briefly lashed out during a conversation with my partner behind closed doors. Not nearly the lashing out I’ve released in the now-distant past--more on that maybe-never, but who knows, as I am obviously a chronic over-sharer.

Frankly, I don’t deserve my partner. She endured my past abuses, told me to my face I had to be better, and found it in herself to wait for me to grow. She’s endlessly and tirelessly supportive of me. She sat with me to help me maintain the nerve to start this blog tonight. I came out to her as a trans woman just under a year ago, now, and I’m happier than ever, and we communicate better than ever. Our relationship is, bar-none, the healthiest and stablest and happiest I’ve ever been in.

So, naturally, I apologized fairly quickly at Christmas, and continuing where I’d left off at two and a half years, decided I’m still solid without booze.

If we’re all being honest, though (and I’m doing my best to be one hundred percent honest, here, though I will absolutely be censoring names because no shit), I still smoke way too much fuckin’ weed. High as balls, right now. 420 blaze it, all day erryday, bruh. That self-medicated ADHD life. I should be on Adderall and not antidepressants, probably, but it’s been a while since an appointment and psychiatrists are expensive, so I’m at where I’m at for now. Sativas help a lot. It helps with the dysphoria, too.

I don’t have a legal diagnosis for gender dysphoria, but tell that to my extreme urge to both be in and have a vagina. I’m making little changes--my hair, an outfit at a time, no longer policing how I walk or run or how much emphasis I put on S sounds. If I manage to come out to my parents sometime soon--and it feels like that moment is closer every day--maybe I’ll tell y’all my real, full chosen name. For right now, call me Easy.

*

Anyhow. My goals here are pretty simple:

1) Share words, both those by people I like/admire/sometimes know! and occasionally words I’ve made that I like. See the above screenshot from my notes app. Steal some words if you want, but if you manage to make money off some of mine, holler at ya gurl’s Venmo, yeah?

2) Discuss words, how they work, and how we create them, use them, engage with them, and ultimately make art of them. I am not a professional linguist, but I went to undergrad for creative writing, so, hey, I’ll have opinions and do my best to back them up with ideas from people smarter than I am.

3) Books! Read them, revisit them, quote them, talk about them, sometimes maybe even review them, if I’m feeling particularly bold. No writer can exist in a vacuum, and any writer who insists they don’t like to read is either a) dyslexic and prefers audiobooks or b) in serious need of switching to a communications major (no shade, but also definitely a little shade @corporate journalism).

5) I added this last, but I feel it’s less important than 4 and does not deserve bookend status, and I am verbose but incredibly lazy, so here I am, fucking with the system. Anyway: Art! Music! Video games! I fucking love them. I’ll talk about them, sometimes, too. Maybe I’ll finally do some of the ekphrastic work I’ve felt rattling around in my brain for a while now. Jade Cocoon 2′s Water Wormhole Forest, looking right the fuck at you.

6) Ah, shit, I did it again. Oh well. Last-but-not-last: This is obviously, in some ways, a diary, or a massive personal essay. I will sometimes discuss people, places, or experiences that have informed my work just the same as other people’s art has.

4) Be an unabashed and open Trans woman. TERFs, transphobes, ill-informed biological essentialists not permitted. Come at me and my girldick and prepare to be dunked on and subsequently shown the door via a swift and painful steel-toed kick in the ass. Everybody who doesn’t suck, if I screw up on any matter of socio-ethics or respect for diversity, please feel free to correct me.

*

Punk’s dead, but we’re a generation of motherfucking necromancers. Be gay, do crime, fight the patriarchy, and fart when you gotta. May the Great Old Ones select you to ascend to a higher plane and learn the terrible truths of existence.

Much love--

Easy

#writers #writing #creative writing #trans #trans woman #fuck TERFs #writing about writing #writer #my writing #diary

[sprnklersplashes]

not beyond repair (7/?)

AO3

On Friday, Veronica’s last class is Economics, along with Martha. After weeks of painfully enduring Martha’s stony, pitiful silence and wondering if she could honestly sit through it every Friday until graduation, getting to talk with her and compare notes and look at in confusion when she couldn’t get something (which was more often than she liked to admit; Martha was the one who was good at this kind of stuff, sometimes all Veronica could see were just numbers and words with no link to each other). When class finishes, they take their time packing, feeling no rush. While Veronica knows JD is waiting for her at his class, she has a feeling he won’t mind waiting for her.

“You want to come around to my house tonight?” Martha asks, slinging her back onto her shoulder. “My dad’s not working tonight so he can run us down to the video store.”

“Sorry, I have plans,” Veronica answers. “JD and I are hanging out.” Martha smiles gently, her eyes sparkling behind her large glasses.

“Anything exciting?” she asks casually, twirling strands of her brown hair around her finger. Veronica chuckles; Martha, innocent as she is, definitely doesn’t think what most people would think when they ask that question, and she loves her for it.

“I don’t know,” she says, a pang of guilt hitting her chest. She still can’t bring herself to tell Martha exactly what she and JD have planned for tonight and she can’t quite put her finger on why that is; maybe it’s because Martha’s moral compass is as rigid as they come, her heart big enough for every student at Westerberg, and Veronica frankly doesn’t want to deal with her attempting to talk her out of it. Or she might be wanting to avoid Martha’s loyalties being divided between her lifelong friend and her lifelong crush. Or, it occurs to her out of nowhere, maybe she’s not sure she wants Martha to know about this vengeful side of her, or of JD for that matter. “We’ll probably just watch a movie at his place. But we’ll hang soon,” she promises, meaning it this time, feeling a change in her words from the half-hearted, flippant words of her Heathers days. Sometimes she wishes she could burn away those weeks entirely, erase that time from her own memory and of everyone else in the school, hell, the whole town. “Are you doing anything next weekend?”

“No,” she says with a smile, shaking her head so that her brown ponytail falls over her shoulder.

“Okay, then next Saturday, we can do movie night,” she suggests. “And we can do it at my place. As long as you bring the Jiffy Pop.”

“Perfect,” Martha answers, her smile lighting up her face and the entire hallway. Veronica chuckles, bumping her arm against Martha’s. She pulls her arms tighter around her, clutching her textbooks closer to her chest. “And we don’t have to watch The Princess Bride if you don’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” she asks, her smile dropping.

“Well, because we’ve watched it so many times,” she explains. “And you’re right, maybe I have it memorised. We can watch something older if you want.”

“No,” she says quickly, grabbing Martha’s hand. “Come on, The Princess Bride is awesome. No matter how many times we watch it.”

“Are you sure?” she asks softly. “I mean-did the Heathers ever watch it?” Veronica supresses a groan, painfully ashamed of herself.

“No, they didn’t,” she admits. “That’s why they were so boring to hang out with.”

“The Heathers? Boring?” Martha asks, a hint of a smile on her face.

“Yeah,” she admits, not entirely lying but if she’s honest, not being entirely truthful either, finding a rather unhappy, slightly uncomfortable middle. “We can watch the Princess Bride. And anything else.”

“Okay,” Martha agrees. “Next Saturday.” Not too far off, Veronica sees the familiar long trench coat and curly hair and long legs. He glances up and sees her immediately-not like there’s a crowd to try to find her in. He gives her a smile as she approaches and extends the same to Martha. While the first day they started having lunch together was awkward to say the least, and the one after wasn’t much better, she feels him warming up to Martha. She guesses they must talk when they have English together, because yesterday they were going over their essay assignments, with JD even giving Martha pointers on Moby Dick, with her hastily writing them down on her notepad. Conversation has been becoming easier between the three by the day, the awkward tension slowly but surely fizzling out.

“Hey, you,” he greets. “Hey, Martha.”

“Hi,” she replies, shuffling from one foot to the other awkwardly. Veronica feel that tension may have been fading out slowly but surely, but the hard part is that ‘slowly’ is the operative word there. “Um, I’ll see you guys on Monday.”

“Sure, see you later,” Veronica says, hugging her quickly and lightly, like they have been doing since probably the very beginning of high school, before she scurries off to the main door. Veronica leans back against the wall next to JD, their fingers linking between them. The small grin on his face makes her laugh again. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says. “Just… I don’t know, you two are cute.”

“Cute?” she echoes, scrunching up her nose.

“Maybe not cute,” he admits. “I’m just glad you’re friends with her again.”

“Yeah, me too,” she says. “And the irony is it was all because of that rumour.”

“Speaking of which,” he tugs at her hand and pulls her off the wall, the both of them chuckling. “Come on.”

They leave out one of the side doors, JD telling her it’s easier to get to his house that way. As they walk down the streets, at first hand in hand, then arm in arm, Veronica begins to recognise the neighbourhood.

“I think Heather Mac lives around here,” she remarks.

“She does?” JD asks. “I haven’t seen her, but I guess we don’t exactly traverse the same social circles.”

“Still,” she points out, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “It’s a nice part of town. My mom wanted to live here, but the real estate was too pricey, so she got stuck on my street.” She tells JD about the roses being stolen from her neighbour’s garden, which gets a laugh out of him.

“Maybe that’s why they thought I should live here,” he remarks as they go up the steps to his porch. “Keep me away from ruffians who steal roses from sweet old ladies.” He opens the door and leads her into the lit hallway. “They didn’t count on girls climbing into my bedroom window though.”

“You’re never letting that go, are you?” she asks. He hums and shakes his head, making her laugh her usual too loud, too obnoxious sounding laugh. He kisses her gently, cupping her face with his hand. It’s brief; he pulls away after only a few seconds before going to the kitchen and leaning on the doorframe. Claire is sitting at the table, glasses on, apparently going over some papers. She looks up when JD knocks on the wood.

“Veronica’s here,” he announces.

“Hi Claire,” Veronica says, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Hi honey,” Claire greets softly, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes.

“Working hard?” JD asks.

“Yep-too hard,” she replies. “So how was school?”

“Fine, I guess. We’ll be upstairs,” JD tells her, turning to leave, Veronica taking his hand and following him up.

“Door stays open!” Claire calls.

“Oh my god!” JD exclaims. “What does she think we’d even be doing?” he asks Veronica in a pained whisper. Veronica chuckles and sits down on his bed as he takes off his coat, not bothering to close the door.

Veronica looks around his room; she realises she hadn’t really looked at it the last time she was in here. It’s fairly bare; blue walls and a black and white checked bedspread, the shelves above the fireplace and bed lined with books and not much else. His desk is tucked in the corner, papers and books and pens haphazardly placed around it.

“Yeah, it’s um, I don’t really have a lot of stuff,” he admits, sitting on the bed next to her. He picks up a discarded t-shirt and inexpertly tosses it into the laundry basket; it lands half in half out. “I should’ve cleaned up a little.”

“It’s fine,” she says, bumping her knee against his. “I think I made enough of a mess last time I was here.” JD laughs, rubbing his hand over her shoulder before getting up and lifting a cardboard box up from the floor and placing it on the bed. He lifts out a black camera with a leather strap, wiggling it for good measure. Veronica raises her eyebrows and kneels up on the bed. She knows little to nothing about cameras, but she guesses it’s a fairly good brand, and it’s in good condition.

“A little going-away present from the kids in my old home,” he tells her. “And a crucial part of her plan.”

“So… we’re going to photograph them naked or something?” she asks, holding up the camera and looking at JD through the lens. He pokes his tongue out at her. She feels her finger press down on something and jumps as she hears a shutter click and a picture being printed. JD laughs and gently lifts it off the camera before shaking it around a little and pressing it into his palm.

“Exactly.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal, J,” she points out. “And morally reprehensible.”

“Only if we distribute the photos,” he replies. “Which we are not. And we don’t even have to get them naked. That’s juvenile. Just looking stupid.”

“Is that really that hard?” she replies, wrinkling her nose, making him laugh.

“No,” he answers, still smiling. “All we need is them looking dumb enough to get them to listen to us.”

“So… how do we do that?” she asks.

“I… don’t know,” he confesses. “I was kind of hoping we could think of something.”

“Aw, you’re so romantic,” she teases, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards her, pondering. “I might have an idea….”

“What is it?” he asks.

“What if we got them-Okay this is kind of terrible,” she laughs, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “And maybe impossible. But what if we like, got them in the woods behind the park?”

“I’m listening,” he says, kneeling down in front of her, resting his chin on the bed. She lies down on her stomach so that their faces are level.

“Okay, well what if we got them like, I don’t know, stuck up a tree or something?” she suggests. “All dangling and helpless.”

“Now there’s an idea,” he says, poking her cheek gently, pressing the tip of his finger into the dimple in her cheek, frowning just slightly as she sees an idea coming together behind his eyes. “And building on that….”

“What is it?” she asks, a tingle running up her spine despite herself.

“What if instead of being stuck up a tree, they dangled from a tree?”

“Seriously?” she asks, and he nods at her with an excited, wolfish grin. Veronica herself is unsure if she should grin back or let her mouth hang open. “JD, can we even do that?”

“All we need to do is get our hands on some rope,” he explains. “And…” He gets up and her eyes follow him to his bookshelf, watching him silently mutter under his breath until he finds what he was looking for. He brings a red, hard backed book back to Veronica, holding it between them.

“Every Boy’s Guide To The Wilderness,” she reads aloud, raising an eyebrow at him, noticing its remarkable difference from the volumes of classic novels and poetry sitting on his bookshelf and hiding in the corners of his bookbag and cardboard boxes. “Did you pick this one yourself?”

“I saw it in some old bookstore a few years ago. I thought it might come in handy,” he tells her. “It’s actually not a bad read. It’s got a lot of handy tips in case you ever want to take a trip to the great outdoors. Including…” He flips through the pages and turns it towards Veronica. She sits up on her knees and grabs the book to get a better look at the page, which details how to tie a rope perfect for trapping woodland animals.

“How far back does this book date exactly?” she asks. “1874?”

“It’s traditional,” he admits, shrugging. “But what do you think?”

“I think,” she says, running her fingers gently through his hair. “That you’re something of an evil genius.” He laughs and closes the gap between them for a kiss. They sit up together, her cupping his cheeks with her hands while he places his hands on her waist, tilting his head just slightly to deepen the kiss. She hears him make a small, contented noise against her lips and it makes her smile and shift her position. They have to break apart for a moment as she moves, sitting on the bed and wrapping her legs around his waist, her head tilted up to him as they resume kissing.

“Shit!” JD exclaims, pushing Veronica away from him and stumbling backwards. Leaning up on her hands, Veronica barely as time to ask him what’s wrong-or why he felt the need to push her violently back onto the bed-before the door is pushed open.

“Hey kids,” Claire says cheerfully. “Are you guys hungry?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” JD answers, rubbing the back of his neck. “Veronica?”

“Oh, I’m okay thanks,” she says, offering Claire a grateful smile.

“Well okay,” she replies delicately. “Well if you change your minds I’m downstairs.”

“I won’t, thanks,” JD says flatly. Veronica watches as Claire nods and heads downstairs, leaving the door open more than a crack. She turns to JD, biting her lip in a failed attempt to stop herself from giggling as he leans against the wall, looking at his boots.

“Cut her some slack,” she tells him, reaching her hand out to him, which he takes and pulls her up. “She’s just taking care of you.”

“I know,” he sighs, still avoiding her eyes. “I know. Just… Kind of wish I had my own space.” Veronica isn’t convinced that’s all there is to it, but she doesn’t push it, instead pressing her lips to his gently. She hopes she’s letting him know that she can be his safe space if that’s what he wants. He rubs their noses together, letting out a short breath.

“Why don’t I call Ram?” she asks, her fingers curling into his jacket. “Let him know what I want to do tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds amazing,” he replies, following her over to his bedside phone. Her heart hammers against her ribs and she’s unsure if it’s the thrill of the act or the worry she and JD might get caught, but she finds herself liking it either way. JD giggles as she makes the call and she has to hit him with the pillow to shut him up, which only makes her laugh herself.

“See you there,” she says after Kurt and Ram enthusiastically agree, their stunned silence followed a stammering “yes we’d love that”. Veronica takes the receiver and holds it between her and JD, pressing her finger to her lips as they wait for just one word from them.

“Dude, free pussy!” Kurt says.

“And we don’t even have to buy it a pizza!” Ram replies. Veronica pulls a face and hangs up the receiver.

“Gross,” she says, making an exaggerated shudder. She wasn’t wholly joking; Kurt and Ram had been getting under her skin for pretty much all of high school, even more so when she had been hanging out with them via the Heathers.

“Indeed,” JD agrees, but she still giggles, leaning into his shoulder. She feels herself falling backwards as JD pulls her down onto her bed, only making her laugh harder. She shouldn’t think it, but she knows her revenge on Ram and Kurt will be sweet. And maybe it’s about time someone gave them a taste of their own medicine; why not her?

                                                                                   ******

Veronica meets JD in the woods early enough in the morning, still rubbing sleep out of her eye, suddenly wishing she had planned their prank to happen around mid-afternoon. JD seems perfectly fine, playfully hitting Veronica with the rope he had bought from a hardware store on the way here.

“What did you tell Claire you were doing?” she asks as she holds his book upright for him so he can tie the ropes properly. “Somehow I doubt ‘revenge plan against the school’s resident assholes’ was met with a lot of approval.”

“I told her that me and you were taking a morning stroll through the woods,” he tells her, frowning at the knot and untying it again. Veronica looks around her, taking in the pink hue to the sky, the falling golden leaves scattered along the green grass, dirt paths made by trampling feet twisting and winding through it. She hadn’t come into the woods much, not since her Girl Scout days anyway.

“It’s a nice place,” she remarks. “Maybe it would be nice taking a walk in here.”

“The woods?” JD answers, looking up from his task, silently considering it. “Yeah, I guess it is.” She sighs deeply in frustration and almost immediately sees his mind beginning to work, a smile spreading across his face. “Maybe we can go on walks here. It’ll be romantic. People do that in books.”

“Go on walks in woods?” she asks, trying to remember any romance novels she had read and if walks through the woods were part of it.

“Yeah,” he says, tugging on the rope, nodding in satisfaction. “You know, the man and the woman go on a springtime stroll in the forest. The birds sing, the little squirrels dance at their feet-”

“Oh, come on,” she replies. “That’s Snow White, not a romance novel.”

“Never saw that movie,” he says, standing up. “I have read a lot of books, and that’s how they courted women back in the old days. Holding hands was basically third base.” Veronica laughs, but the first part of what he said sticks out to her.

“You haven’t seen Snow White?” she asks.

“Never got the chance, I guess,” he says. “A lot of places I lived weren’t really for movie-watching.”

“Oh that’s it,” she decides. “Sometime I’m taking you to my place and we’re watching every Disney movie you haven’t seen.”

“A movie date?” he asks, grinning. “I like the sound of that.” Veronica promises to herself it won’t be a meaningless promise; she swears to make it a reality in the near future, her and JD curled up on her bed, popcorn between them and a stack of videos at her side. Maybe not in her room, her parents would never allow her being alone in her room with a boy, even if she told a tiny white lie about them being ‘just friends’.

“JD,” she begins carefully. “Does Claire know that we’re…” She gestures in between them, the words dancing on her tongue but too timid to slip out. “Together?”

“Together?” he echoes, chuckling. “No, I haven’t really told her yet. I kind of want to keep this…” He gestures to the two of them, just as she had done. “Private a little while longer. Plus I’m still sort of… testing the water with her, I guess.”

“Testing the water?” she asks, worry turning her stomach.

“Yeah,” he admits with a slightly regretful tone. “It’s not that bad. Sometimes it just takes a while to get to know a foster parent. To trust them.” She feels her face drop slightly and he must notice it, because he takes her face in his hand and uses his thumb to poke the corner of her mouth, trying to make her smile. “It’s fine, Veronica. It happens with so many foster kids.” She nods, letting the smile he put on her face stay there.

“Claire seems great though,” she tries, feeling stupid. He nods, his face uncertain.

When she spies two people approaching, Veronica realises the irony of her being glad to see Ram and Kurt. JD squeezes her hand and runs behind the tree, tossing leaves over the rope. JD had (after a few failed attempts that made Veronica laugh so hard her stomach had begun to hurt) tossed the rope over a high enough branch for it to become invisible, he had instructed her to get Kurt and Ram to stand right at that spot where the rope was concealed while he stood behind, one hand on the rest of the rope, the other holding his camera.

“Hi… Veronica,” Kurt says, puffing his chest out. Veronica’s tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth, her eyes darting to the concealed circle of rope in front of her. They’re just a few feet away from where they need to be.

“So…” Ram continues, flipping his hair out of his face in a way she supposes she is meant to find attractive. “You want us to just take it all off?” Apparently it wasn’t a question, because he’s already taking off his track jacket, slipping it over his shoulders slowly, licking his lips in an exaggerated motion. Kurt suddenly clocks onto what he’s doing and does the same, unbuttoning his shirt.

“Won’t you leave me a little fun?” she says, her voice higher than normal, emulating the voice she had seen Heather MacNamara used when she tries to get boys to do what she wants, mostly giving her the answers to quizzes. She bats her eyes for the full effect.

“Fun?” Ram echoes, his jacket falling to the ground without a word. “What fun?”

“Let… me… strip… you,” she tells him. At her request, they exchange open mouthed looks of glee before turning their heads back to her.

“Really?” Kurt asks, beginning to bounce on his feet.

“Really,” she says. “Just step a little further for me?” They do as she asks, pushing each other side to be one fraction of an inch closer to her. She looks behind the tree, taking a few seconds to find JD in the shadows. “Little bit more…. And perfect.”

The next thing Veronica sees is Kurt and Ram being hoisted in the air, flipping upside down so quickly it makes her dizzy. They must have bumped their heads together as the sound of their pained yells echoes up and down the road, bouncing off of trees. She sees them ending up against each other, their hair falling towards the ground, and their shirts riding up and exposing their midriffs and then their stomachs. Veronica can’t even feel bad for laughing. Maybe she will later, but now all she can do is laugh and feel some form of victory at how pathetic they look.

“JD?” she calls out, looking over to where he was hiding.

“Right here, baby,” he assures her, whipping out his camera, ignoring Kurt and Ram’s pleas to put it down. The flash goes off, then two more for good measure. He hands Veronica two of the printed out pictures and keeps one for himself. She notices him shaking it in his hand and copies him.

“Now,” he says. “You two idiots have something to say to Veronica?”

“You weren’t inviting us here for a threesome?” Ram states, offended.

“No, I wasn’t,” she confirms with a shake of her head.

“Aw!” he replies. Veronica rolls her eyes.

“Anything else you want to say to her?” JD says.

“You’re rude!” Kurt says. “Lying about threesomes isn’t cool!”

“Well neither is spreading rumours about her,” JD points out. “Or lying about your sex life! Or getting the school to call her a whore.” He marches up to them, Veronica a little behind him. “So I ask again… do you have something you want to say to her?”

“Not really,” Ram mumbles. “Only when people find out about this at school, you two are toast.”

“Okay,” JD says. “You two do that and we can distribute these photos to the rest of the school.”

“No way!” Kurt says. “You wouldn’t do that!”

“Maybe I wouldn’t,” JD says. “Unless you tell Veronica three little words.”

“What? What? We’ll say it just get us down from here,” Ram begs. “It hurts!”

“Dear God, this is teetering on hopeless,” he whispers to Veronica. “Apologise!”

“Fine! We’re sorry, Veronica!” Ram exclaims as his face turns red.

“Yeah, we are,” Kurt agrees. “Really, really sorry!”

“And,” Veronica speaks up, stepping around and in front of JD. “You’re going to tell everyone at school that rumour was fake, right?”

“Oh come on, we can’t,” Kurt pleads. “We’d be a laughingstock!”

“If that’s what you want,” JD says. “Then we can distribute these around the school. This one here is particularly charming.” Veronica leans on his shoulder to see what he means; the photo is of Ram’s mouth open in either a scream of a gasp while Kurt’s face is scrunched up. She giggles behind her hand; he’s not wrong, it is quite charming.

“Okay fine!” Kurt says. “Deal.”

“Thanks,” Veronica says, pushing her hair away from her face with a triumphant smile. “JD, cut them down.”

“We don’t have to,” he points out, shrugging.

“Cute,” she laughs. “Seriously though, let’s just let them go.”

“Yeah, let us go, man,” Ram adds. “We promise we’ll tell everyone what really happened.” For a moment, JD doesn’t move, looking darkly at Ram and Kurt, and Veronica feels something clench in her stomach as she looks at his unreadable, conflicted eyes.

“JD?” she asks, tugging on the sleeves of her jacket, an unsettling feeling forming in her stomach. “JD?”

“Yeah,” he says, firstly to himself, and then more to her. “Yeah, I’ll get them down.” She watches as he runs behind the tree and begins untying the rope. “You two might want to brace yourselves.” They fall to the ground with an audible thump that makes Veronica wince. Despite the cool air, she feels far too warm. They scramble to untie the rope and jump to their feet.

“You two are crazy,” Kurt says, glaring at them both before running away, Ram hot on his heels.

Rather than coming over to her, JD stands behind the tree, pressing his fists into it and leaning on it. Veronica goes over to him instead, the warmth prickling at her back.

“JD?” she asks again.

“I’m okay,” he breathes. “Yeah, just… let’s just get this stuff packed up.” He yanks on the rope twice, then one more as it falls from the tree onto the ground. He puts it back into the backpack he had brought with him, along with his book. Veronica falls into step beside him, her hand brushing against his again and again until she decides to take his hand herself, being comforted by the smile that spreads across his face as she does so and the way he squeezes her hand gently.

“You were going to let them down, right?” she asks, wincing as she says it.

“Yeah,” he says. “I mean… I wanted to, yeah.” She wonders who he’s talking to, himself or her. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” she says, the half-truth sitting heavily between them. On the one hand, she was happy to see them hanging helplessly, finally switching up the roles even if it was just for one day, and happy to know her reputation might be slightly less awful than it is now. And knowing their pride will be non-existent come Monday. On the other hand… “I just kind of feel bad after that.” But not as bad as she should, either.

“You too?” he asks shakily. When she turns to look at him, Veronica almost thinks she sees fear in his eyes. Or at the very least, he’s shaken up about something. The boy she thought was somehow unbreakable was cracking at the edges.

“Yeah,” she answers delicately. “Maybe our vigilante days are over?”

“Sure,” he says, offering her a weak smile. They finish the walk together in silence, the occasional swing of their linked hands the only movement besides walking, a gesture that she hopes means he’s still with her, and it’s an attempt to clear the air between them despite the haunted look in JD’s eyes. She isn’t sure if she wants him to hold her closer or not and that to her is the worst part of all this.

By the time they make if back to his house, her mood is slightly better and her worries lessened by the gentle swing of their hands, but her eyes still trained on his face. His jaw is still clenched, his breathing far too calculated and steady, but the darkness in his eyes is gone and his thumb strokes the back of her hand affectionately. Despite the uneasy feeling that still hangs in her gut, she doesn’t want to leave when they reach his place. She turns around so that their linked hands hang between them.

“Thank you,” she says honestly. “For protecting me.”

“Always,” he says, smiling at her, even though it doesn’t meet his eyes. She takes his face with her free hand, stroking her thumb under his eye.

“Are you okay?” she asks quietly.

“Are you?”

“I asked you first,” she jokes. She knows a deflection when she sees it.

“I’m fine,” he says. “Just a little…” He seems to catch himself in the middle of his sentence and groans slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about me. That’s not your job.”

“Whose job is it then?” she asks teasingly. “Claire’s?” Call her crazy, but maybe she wants it to be her job too. It’s not like she can help it anyways. He huffs a laugh, looking down at the ground. “You sure you’re all right?”

“I’m always all right,” he tells her. He pushes her hair away from her face. “Are you?”

“Of course,” she says, half truthful. He frowns, his fingertips trailing down her cheek and jaw as if he could coax what was really on her mind out of her simply with his gentle touch and soft yet stern eyes. Her mouth runs dry as the question lies on her tongue. “JD… you were going to let Kurt and Ram go, right?”

To her surprise, he isn’t angry with her. He lets out a long, steady breath, the hand that’s holding hers tightening on it and rubbing circles on the back of it.

“Of course I was,” he says. “I just… I’m sorry, Ronnie.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” she says, wishing she had never brought it up. “Just forget I-”

“Hey,” he croons softly, tugging on her hand and pulling her closer. “It’s okay. I am sorry if I freaked you out. I just…” His mouth opens and closes as he fumbles for the right words. She puts her hand on his chest, over his heart, hopefully telling him he can let her in whenever he wants. He smiles and places his own hand over hers. “I have someone to talk to about it.”

“And it’s not my job?” she asks, trying not to sound jealous.

“No,” he tells her, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not.”

What if I want it to be? She thinks but doesn’t ask.

“I should probably go inside,” he sighs. “Claire will be wondering where I got off to.”

“Sure,” she says. “I’ll see you on Monday.” A playful smile begins playing on her lips and she pulls him closer, even as his eyes flicker to the front door. “I can’t wait to see their faces.” He giggles, a welcome sight for her sore eyes, and nods.

“Me neither,” he replies. He hesitates for a moment before pulling her in by her chin and planting a sweet kiss on her lips. She leans into it, allowing herself to smile against him even as one of his hands tightens onto her waist and the other tangles in her hair. She should be concerned at the feeling of desperation in his lips, and she is, but she lets herself get lost just for a few seconds.

“Okay, now I really should go,” he whispers after pulling away, his breath mingling with hers.

“See you later,” she replies. He squeezes her shoulders before he disappears around the gatepost. She watches him through the edge as he half-runs up the path and knocks on the door. She looks away as it opens and he slips inside.

Not for the first time, Veronica finds herself wishing she knew what was going on inside her boyfriend’s head.

She feels her fingers itch for a pen and she curls it into a fist before heading home, her eyes flitting up to JD’s window as she passes his house. So many unsaid words bounce around in her head and build up in her chest. She picks up her pace, in a sudden hurry to get home and unload her soul the only way she’s ever known how to.

Dear Diary, she writes that night, her back up against her bed, her diary balancing on her knees and a steaming mug of tea beside her. Today was… weird. I don’t even know how to feel.

At the beginning, it was awesome. Maybe I liked getting revenge on Kurt and Ram-is that bad? Would it be something a Heather would do? I probably shouldn’t like it, but I did anyway. And that’s where it starts. I do feel bad, a little bit. No a lot, and that kind of makes me feel worse. I guess I should be glad that I feel bad at all, because God knows they never felt bad about telling everyone in the school about our imaginary threesome. Bottom line; I feel bad, but I also kind of don’t, and I don’t know what to think about that exactly.

And then there’s JD…

It’s complicated. He’s complicated.

He told me that he would have let Kurt and Ram down, and he did. And it’s not that I don’t trust him or I don’t believe him, I do. But there was something in his eyes… I guess if I had to use a word, I’d say looked scared. He was freaked out by something. The worst part is that I don’t know what he could have been scared of. It can’t have been Kurt and Ram. Was he scared of me? I want to say he has no reason to be scared of me but how would I know that? Or maybe he’s scared of himself, and that’s what freaks me out more.

I just want to be there for him. God knows he’s done it enough times for me. Keeping me safe. Sometimes keeping me sane. I know he said he has someone (a someone I don’t think is Claire) and that it’s not my job, but I kind of want it to be. A part time job at least.

And….

She pauses, her pen hovering above the page as her heart suddenly creeps up to her throat, and the absurd image of her vomiting it onto the page comes into her mind. She looks over her shoulder, feeling silly, like Heather Chandler would be sitting behind her reading all her secrets (although back when she was a Heather, a part of her thought she could do exactly that). Or maybe she was worried JD would be reading what she’s writing. What would he think of her then? A rush of guilt comes over her and she drags her legs closer to her body, but she doesn’t stop writing, the words flowing out onto the page making her brain feel far less crowded.

I just hope that he’s really fighting for me. Because my offer still stands; I’ll fight the world for him if he fights for me first.

She looks up at her ceiling, thinking back over everything. She dwells on the negative, on the tense walk home and JD’s fearful, conflicted eyes, for longer than she cares to admit, but she finds her way to the positives soon enough. Remembers kissing JD in his bedroom, the sound of his laugh and the flustered way he tried to clean up after himself, him telling her about the ways people in romance novels court each other. Remembers him pulling her in for a goodbye kiss, the sound of his giggle and the way he squeezing her hand, how despite it all, she felt like his touch was calming her down, how safe and right she feels around him. She remembers it all, remembers the clarity and happiness and spark in his eyes then, and smiles despite herself.

I have a feeling he is though.

#jdronica #jdronica ff #veronica sawyer #jason dean #heathers the musical #heathers fanfic #this has been the hardest to write chapter so far

[kiarasdeclassified]

some REAL high school freshman advice

so, you’re finally finished with eighth grade & moving onto the next phase of your life: high school! that should be exciting, right? it’s around the time where everyone is starting to get their schedule, pick out classes, shop for new supplies & outfits… & maybe even check out some advice posts so you know what you’re getting yourself into. however, all of these posts seem to say the same thing: “join a club!” “study hard!” “go to football games!” “take an honors class!” “make some friends!” in all honesty, yes, these are great tips, but they’ve been tired out so much over the years of freshman advice posts that have been created & most importantly, don’t exclusively apply to freshmen either. so, to keep you from branding this as just another basic twitter thread on how drinking water will help you get good grades all year, i’ve compiled a list of things you probably haven’t already been told about your freshman year that will definitely be helpful.

it’s not as hard as your teachers might make it out to be.

i find that the idea of high school being absolutely impossible is mostly proposed by english teachers, so here’s an example: all throughout eighth grade, my english teacher gave my class mountains of homework, at least 2 essays every other month, and ridiculously hard tests over strange words derived from Latin. she told us constantly: “i know the work i’m giving you is challenging, but i’m preparing you for high school.” my freshman year, i had no more than three simple assignments to do per night (& even that’s a stretch), i wrote 8 essays the entire year, and my tests were pretty time consuming but they were not at all difficult. i got solid A’s in every class with some effort, but not nearly with the amount of effort my eighth grade teachers attempted to drill into me. especially if you go to public school, your high school is probably going to be a little more relaxed than your middle school is. they won’t freak out on you if you forget to turn something in. you’ll probably be allowed to take out your phone in one or two classes. you’ll most likely be able to chew gum. of course, you’re taking harder classes, so the coursework is going to be more advanced, but your teachers know that. no one expects you to be perfect, especially as a wee little freshman in a sea full of kids who have done this for at least a year or more.

that being said, you still have to put in work.

just because it isn’t going to be THAT tough doesn’t mean it’s going to be a piece of cake. you still need to develop decent study habits, even if your study “habit” is just you looking at a study guide or watching a crash course video or reviewing a quizlet the night before a test. you especially need to do this if you’re taking advanced classes; the most common classes for freshmen on the advanced track to take (depending on your school, this is just what i see the most often) are geometry and biology. both of these classes are heavily theory-based & require at least SOME studying for success, especially biology. if you aren’t taking an advanced class however, you might view this as less reason to try; but, it’s the opposite. since your coursework isn’t so fast-paced, you can focus more on the details of your unit/chapter/lesson/etc. so you can REALLY be sure to ace your tests & nail your classwork. freshman year is the easiest of all your high school years, so even if you aren’t taking advanced classes, you need to try, even if it’s just a little. you won’t regret it.

don’t take an advanced class if you know you can’t handle it.

an unwritten rule of thumb with most high school classes is that you can fail every test, but as long as you complete & turn in all of your classwork & homework, you will pass the class; while keeping that in mind, it’s important to note that advanced classes usually come with summer homework, group seminars, bigger projects, accelerated coursework, & a heavier load on your academic life in general. if you have little to no work ethic, advanced classes are not for you. if you know you’re going to be too lazy to even start any summer work & you won’t turn in any homework during the year, don’t even think about taking the class. but if you can’t even trust yourself to fulfill the latter part of that statement, don’t do it. if you’ve already signed up for it, drop out of it. if you can’t drop the class, good luck buttercup.

get a job if you can.

you’re getting older, you probably don’t want to have to ask your parent or guardian for money all the time, you’ll want to go out & buy things & do fun things with your friends, or if you’re more introverted, maybe even stay at home & spend your money on something nice you saw online. many places understand that you’re a teenager that has just ventured out into high school & began working, so they can be flexible with schedules & hours. this isn’t the post for me to spew out job info, but you can start your job search by googling “[desired workplace (mcdonald’s, walmart, etc.)] careers” & checking their application for an age limit. if there’s one clearly listed & you’re too young, don’t apply; however, if you’re old enough or if there isn’t one, then go ahead & apply! apply to multiple places at once so you have a better chance of landing one, then call back after around 2-3 days & let them know you’re checking on an application. if you don’t want to call, be ready to wait; i avoided doing this & didn’t hear back from what was eventually my first job for 4 months. regardless, having your own money that you know you earned yourself is an amazing feeling, & treating yourself with it is an even better one.

if you want to go to college, start planning.

if you’re an overachiever like i was back when i was a little freshie, then you’ve probably already started doing this; however, if you don’t care to start looking in depth at colleges, you should at least decide what you want to do after high school. take a career cluster inventory test to figure out what you’d enjoy most as a career & use this to decide between 2-3 potential majors/minors; then, complete the texas reality check to see what careers fit your ideal lifestyle. while these aren’t concrete plans at all, it’s good to at least have an idea of what you’d like to do, so you can eventually use this to decide on something later on. even with this in mind, it’s okay if you don’t even know what you want to do yet & no tests you’ve taken have helped you. at the end of eighth grade, i wanted to go into music; at the end of freshman year, i wanted to go into marketing; at the end of sophomore year, i wanted to double major in chemistry & entrepreneurship. it’s fine to be all over the place interest-wise, & it’s fine to have no clue what you enjoy interest-wise. you have a whole four years to make solid plans, so don’t stress it.

college isn’t your only option.

even though this is probably what your teachers, peers, or maybe even family has drilled into your head for a little while, you have so many other options besides college. you can go into the military if you’d like, even if you’re not interested in combat (there’s other positions too, you know); you can go to technical school for something like cosmetology, mechanics, welding, esthetics, etc.; you could go straight into the workforce or start a business if your interests point you into that direction; you could even do something as simple as an apprenticeship for specific jobs. if college was truly the only postsecondary choice, it would be so much harder to get into the schools you wanted to go to, since almost another 1.1 MILLION students in the United States alone would be applying as well. it’s an unrealistic expectation for everyone to go to college, so you’re not “lazy” or a “bum” because you don’t want to.

most importantly, HAVE (safe & solicited) FUN.

you’re in high school! soon enough, you’ll be driving, making your own plans, talking to your friends 24/7 (even if it’s just on tumblr!), & becoming more independent in general. these are the last four years of your life where you can act like a complete fool outside of school before you become an adult. have fun. bend the rules a little--if you want. whatever you do, don’t give into peer pressure. trust me, NO ONE cares if you don’t want to drink or vape or smoke or have sex, as long as you don’t act like you’re above anyone because you choose not to. never let anyone make you do something you don’t want to do. learn how to say no if you feel uncomfortable with something. if you’re into going out, i don’t recommend doing anything illegal, but if you’re going to, always have a trusted friend in a clear state of mind around who can help you stay safe & protected from harm’s way until you’re at home in your bed (or somewhere else where you feel secure) for the night.

popularity means absolutely nothing.

always have one close friend or a tight-knit circle of friends that you can trust & who you know won’t spread your business around. if something happens & you need someone to fall back on, it’s always better to have 1 real friend you can tell anything to than 10 fake friends who you’re iffy about trust-wise. i get it; almost everybody has wanted to be part of the “in” crowd & has wanted to hang out with them; talk to them; dress like them; be friends with them. eventually, you’ll realize none of that matters. it didn’t click for me until the last 4-5 months of sophomore year. there is no difference between you & rebecca over there with her 2000 instagram followers. she’s [hopefully] being herself, & you should be too. you’ll find your proper crowd, even if it isn’t until the end of high school.

i cannot stress this enough, BE YOURSELF.

who cares if everyone thinks math club is lame? what if your future best friend is in there? wanna go for the volleyball team but you don’t want to seem basic? so what? you’re interested in running for student government but you’re afraid no one will vote for you? you’ll never know if you don’t try! go ahead & wear whatever you want, hang out with whoever you want, listen to whatever music you want, & join whatever clubs you want. fix up the black belt you got from the men’s section at the thrift store slip on your checkered vans. go buy some cute stickers for your hydroflask while blasting billie eilish & ariana grande. finish that painting or developing those cool pictures you took last weekend. DO YOU. don’t stress this whole high school thing; you’ve got this. :)

#high school #high school advice #freshman #freshmen #freshman advice #freshmen advice #school #studyblr

[memecatwings]

I know I said I was going to outline a rewrite for Misfits and I'm doing it so take that executive dysfunction I also compiled a playlist of songs I think best depict the aesthetic of my rewrite so here it is

Ok first off everything past season 3 is just straight up SCRAPPED there were so many horrible gay jokes, and rape jokes as well as transphobia, misogyny, and literal instances of rape so it’s going out the window i accept NONe of it  except Abby the lesbian, Abby the lesbian can stay

Plot-wise,,, nothing much happens in the show aside from interacting with other super-powered people. There really isn’t any suspense or intrigue, I doubt I would have stuck around as long as I did without Robert Sheehan’s chaotic fun energy. And what are the police even doing? They should be able to connect how many people are going missing from the community center, trying to evade the police should be a bigger deal than it’s shown to be in the show, it should be an ongoing challenge that they face not just a one-time thing.

So basically what I’m saying is that after the second probation worker, the police start to take a closer look into the community center, they keep a close eye on the people who spend time there, maybe the cop who arrested Curtis gets assigned the task and that causes some tension. 

Mainly what I wanted to overhaul were the characters and their arcs. I feel like they weren’t really explored to their full potentials and it really disappointed me especially where Nathan and Curtis’ characters were concerned. None of the characters were really done any justice but I was most upset about those two so that’s where most of my notes are. I was mainly upset about the whole thing where they sold their powers, and then bought back completely different powers, I felt like that cheapened the whole thing where the superpowers were specifically tailored to each person's insecurities and fears. Having a power that is the physical manifestation of your insecurities was a good way to address those issues that the characters have and help them overcome them I don’t know why you would throw that away especially when you haven’t even taken the time to develop them. So I’d like to ditch that entirely. There still is a point where they sell their powers because that in and of itself wasn’t bad, it teaches them to appreciate what they were given, but they get the exact ones back. Basically, all of the events that happen are the same except the ones I specify in the following:

Curtis Curtis’ arc and his ability to rewind time reflect his inability to accept things the way they are. He’s living in the past, he’s so focused on the past that he can’t see what’s right in front of him. He needs to learn how to focus on the present and future. His arc should also reflect overcoming prejudices against him as well as that. The cop who arrested him was also black so if that same cop where to be investigating the community service crew it would provide a chance to discuss racial biases in law enforcement as well as police brutality. It results in a “fuck cops” message in the end but it would be a good chance to at least address the fact that the only reason Curtis was there is because of his skin color in more explicit terms.  Because Curtis is so focused on the past, he doesn’t have any goals for the future. I did really like the point where he had gender fluidity as a power I thought that was a good development for him. It was a chance for him to confront his own toxic masculinity and misogyny, and he comes out of it at the end a more understanding and empathetic person who’s ready to let go of his past. Once Seth gets the rewind time ability back Curtis switches back to his original power, I thought it was cheap that they had Curtis give up gender fluidity because he got pregnant (what even was that honestly is that even possible? It didn’t sound right but I don’t know enough about impregnation to dispute it), so instead of giving it to the iguana it goes back to Curtis, who is shown to be responsible with it. After he gets it back he manages to learn how to control it to its fullest extent. Another thing I thought was cheap was the way the show treated the sexual assault of men, I can’t go into it fully but here’s a great video essay on the subject. Anyways, Alecia did rape Curtis, and that’s not okay. While Alecia learned her lesson on misusing her power, what she did to Curtis should not have just been written off, Curtis was right to be upset with her and that shouldn’t have ended with them as a couple in my opinion.  The last thing I would change where Curtis is concerned is that I think Curtis should have been the man in the mask, not Simon. Curtis has the athletic history, he’s got the right metal profile, he’s got the ability to time travel, and, most of all, vigilante justice would provide what he was looking for when he gave up running: a purpose and a future beyond bartending. Maybe he goes back in time to warn them all about the evil milk guy, he was the only person immune to his lactose powers. After saving Alecia from that video game guy (Tim? Was Tim his name?) he goes back to his time but not before warning them about Milk Man. And the reason Future Curtis survived Tim(?) was that he wasn’t a dumbass and wore a bulletproof vest. 

Alecia  Alecia’s got a lot to unpack and it’s very clear that she was treated like shit by the writers. Her power was the physical manifestation of her belief that her value as a person is proportional to the number of people who want to have sex with her. She’s internalized this toxic mindset to such a high degree that she developed a superpower over it. Her character arc should revolve around her unlearning that mindset. She needs to stop viewing herself as a sex object and start viewing herself as a person. That journey of self-discovery and growth should start after Curtis rejects her for using her power on him without his consent. It kick-starts a realization in her that using her power on people is essentially raping them, even if they don’t remember it. So she stops and focuses her time on finding someone who can either get rid of her power or is unaffected by it. Alecia is the one who finds Seth first and sells her power. The main point of her arc should be that while statistically, men are more likely to perpetrate sexual assault, women can too and it’s neither okay or funny. After getting rid of her power Alecia shows a lot of regret for the way she used it when she first got it and pays Seth extra to get rid of it entirely because no one should be able to use that power.  Now let’s look at Alecia’s romance with Simon. As a concept, it isn’t bad, but the way it was executed was kind of horrible. It reduced Alecia to an object, a damsel in distress. She had no agency of her own she was just the mourning girlfriend and I hated that. If the masked man wasn’t Simon and didn’t tell her she fell in love with him, she never would have fallen in love with him and that’s the truth. Their relationship is basically a self-fulfilling prophecy that just resulted in the two of them being stuck in this time loop where one of them dies and the other overcome with grief and it’s just not healthy. Take that aspect away from their relationship and it wouldn’t be all that bad. So what I propose is Alecia helps Simon with murder cover-ups and gives him dating advice because she’s highly socially intelligent. Alecia is a people person and is good at reading body language so she could tip Simon off when something’s wrong. Over time they end up falling in love because they both see each other as real people, not just “hot girl” and “creepy nerd guy”.  They both wind up helping Curtis with his vigilante operation, Alecia being recon while Simon is tech. 

Simon Simon’s ability to turn invisible represents how he feels whenever he tries to make friends or interact with a group he wishes to be a part of, which is why before he can control it, it activates only when the rest of the group ignores him. Simon’s arc should be about breaking out of his shell and learning to assert himself in social situations especially against the bullies he faces. He needs to find a group of people who listen to his opinion and take him seriously, he spends the show attempting to impress the others and gain their approval and he does gain their attention and approval. He gains it after repeatedly keeping the police off their trail. In this version, Simon getting seduced by the probation worker goes marginally less successfully because of Alecia’s advice. She still ends up dead by accident but Alecia was involved as well and helps Simon get rid of the body and clean up the blood. As I’ve already established, I don’t like Simon as the masked man. Simon’s personality is more suited for tech support, just because he breaks out of his introvert shell and makes a few friends doesn’t mean he goes around jumping off of buildings now he’s still an introvert.  Something else I think the show should have gone into deeper is Simon’s history of being bullied. The way Nathan, specifically, treats Simon should have been a bigger issue. In this version, maybe Alecia tries to convince Simon to stand up for himself and confront Nathan over what he says, stand his ground y‘know. And maybe there’s some sort of emergency with his sister, with his emotions being so high strung while his sister is in trouble he snaps and calls the rest of the gang out on how they’ve treated him. They eventually apologize and Nathan encourages Simon to mock him back rather than just standing there and taking it.  Simon does find respect and friendship in the community service gang and the power of friendship gives him the strength to finally confront his childhood bully. Maybe it happens by Curtis saving him and Simon, knowing who he is, tracks him down and lets the guy Have It. Maybe he breaks the dude's nose too but who’s keeping track. The point is, Simon’s sister is ok, he’s got a partner who respects him, he’s a superhero, and he’s living his best life. 

Kelly Kelly was pretty short-changed by the show in my opinion. Kelly’s ability reflects that she struggles with self-acceptance, she’s so worried about what other people think about her that she doesn’t think about herself. Her arc should be about accepting yourself for who you are and not caring about what other people think of you. Kelly is highly emotionally intelligent and that shows in the way she handles relationships, she knows what she wants, she doesn’t accept people keeping important secrets, and she’s good at keeping personal secrets personal. She’s an excellent confidant. I wish the show had gone into Kelly’s relationship with the hair girl more. That was an interesting budding friendship that showcased Kelly’s want to help people. By hearing people inner thoughts, Kelly learns she can help people overcome their issues and become better people. I think she’d make an excellent Mom Friend. I also think because she’s hearing everyone’s thoughts all the time, she’d take up an interest in psychology. She can help Simon keep the police off of their trail while diffusing serious fights amongst the gang and ensuring nobody keeps any major secrets. And helping her friends sort out their personal issues and shit could help her with her own shit. She learns that everyone struggles with self-acceptance and that the best way for her to live is to just not care what other people think about her. She becomes unapologetically herself over the course of the story.  I liked the way Kelly’s relationship with Nathan resolved so that can stay it’s an important message that men and women can just be regular friends. Not just regular friends, they’re Best Friends. Nathan’s got a lot going on psychologically and Kelly is the only person he can talk to because he doesn’t even need to talk she just hears his thoughts and shares her own in return. She’s trustworthy with a secret when she knows it’s supposed to be a secret.  After community service, she goes off to get a degree in psychology.

Nathan My biggest beef, my largest cow you might say, with the tv show is how spectacularly disappointing Nathan’s entire character was. There was a lot they had to work with with him and they did nothing, they barely scratched the surface with how deep his character could have gone. Nathan is the one character whose power is never explained. It’s not really shown why Nathan developed this specific power. With everyone else, it’s pretty easy to infer why they got what they did but with Nathan, there’s practically nothing to work with so I took creative license this is mine now.  So why does Nathan develop immortality? Why is he literally impossible to kill? Well, it’s established that he’s wildly desperate for his mothers' attention and love, it’s to the point where he tries to chase off all of her boyfriends because he thinks that her loving them means she loves him less but that is a Whole Separate can of worms, but because he’s so desperate for attention it’s not outside the realm of possibility that he might have attempted suicide as a cry for help. I’d guess some time in his late teens (?) he may have OD’d at a party but when he woke up in the hospital nobody was there. The nurse told him that his emergency contacts couldn’t be reached and so he came to the conclusion that nobody would notice, or care if he died. That idea stuck with him and terrified him to the point where, when he developed a superpower, it was Not Dying so he wouldn’t have to worry about no one caring if he’s dead. His ability to see ghosts is also a weird thing that’s not really explained it might just be a side effect of dying and coming back to life. It’s also not established if Nathan has eternal youth as well as immortality, he could be looking at a Jack Harkness situation. It is possible though, that dying kind of resets his body to the state it was in when he got struck by the lightning that gave him his power. So he ages until he dies and then he turns young again or something like that. In addition to Nathan’s power, my other beef is with how his character arc was ended. It was wildly out of character with what was established with him. Nathan Young is a character who is controlled by his fears of emotional intimacy and commitment as well as an extreme amount of performative masculinity and what could be interpreted as internalized homophobia. He’s also got a whole cocktail of parental issues (he would rather be arrested than accept help from his dad) that mean, while he does like kids, he probably has a major fear of becoming a parent. The kind of person with those issues would not commit to a relationship with a pregnant woman, adopt her child, and get hitched in Vegas I’m sorry but I’m not buying it I don’t accept it. That’s canceled. It’s broke.  Another thing I’d like to change is the plot line with his brother. That bit was an excellent chance to bring to light the fact that Nathan is definitely bi. If Nathan’s brother came out to him as gay it would get him to consider his own sexuality in a way he hadn’t done before. It would get him to recognize that all of the homophobic jokes and the picking on Simon are because he’s insecure about his attraction to men and he’s afraid of other people recognizing that attraction and turning him into a target for violence. So he acts in a way he believes to be as Straight As Possible in order to avoid that outcome. All of the Adorkable Misogyny that Nathan takes part in is just a front to cover his own fears that if he doesn’t act that way someone Will hurt him and Nathan is all about self-preservation. Nathan manages to get over a lot of his fears and insecurities just by having good friends, honestly. He talks to Kelly a lot and she helps him work through shit. But it does take a while, it’s a slow going process trying to convince someone who turns everything into a joke as a coping mechanism to take his feelings seriously.  I feel like Nathan would be the kind of person to go on a backpacking trip across the world to “Find Himself” once his community service is over. Kelly offered to let him stay in her flat until he found a job but he declined because he didn’t want to rely on her. Also what job would he even get? He would inevitably end up blowing his brains out on live television for a living and that's just a given. So in the end, Nathan’s arc would be about emotionally maturing. 

As far as other characters go, mainly it’s the same except everyone introduced after season 3 is canceled except for Abby but especially Alex. Alex can drop dead. Abby is allowed to stay but the whole thing with the tortoise? Wack. That was weird and it’s scrubbed. I hated Fin too tbh. Jess is cool as long as she isn’t dating Rudy. And between Curtis having Zero Tolerance for sexual harassment behavior that ideally would transfer over to the other male characters, and Nathan’s newly accepted bisexuality, there’s no room for any of Rudy’s shitty behavior.  I like the superpower support group thing that was cool that can stay too. Seasons 4 and 5 would ideally consist of attempting to evade the police and interacting with the support group.  And controversial opinion probably but I think I’d end it with them getting caught or at least going on the run.

#this is so long omg how did i even finish this #YES i DO accept constructive criticism please offer more ideas #its like midnight 15 rn and im a little buzzed and ive been working on this for 3 hours #misfits

[angel-of-studying-blog]

My Study Habits; awareness of what works for me and what doesn’t.

I need to be at a desk. If I’m on the bed or couch it’s like my brain refuses to do work.

I need to have water at my side while I’m doing homework or studying. I eat when I’m stressed, procrastinating, or bored, and drinking water instead is a good way to keep that bad habit at bay.

Rewriting notes doesn’t actually help me that much.

Reading the assigned readings is so so so important for me. I need to remember that I don’t actually have to read in depth and analyze, but that sometimes simply skimming will do the trick. Skipping readings screws me over though.

Notes are good most of the time. But don’t write down stuff I don’t need. They don’t need to look pretty.

In fact, trying to make my notes pretty detracts from my mental energy reserve and makes me not want to do the things I actually need to do. Plus it puts this pressure on me like from that point on, I HAVE to have pretty notes. Like who cares if they’re pretty.

To-do lists are everything. I need them to function.

Routines are important. When I abandon them, my life spirals out of control for like a whole week and makes me behind on a bunch of stuff.

I need to clean out my backpack and folders more often. It gets heavy and hurts my back, which is bad since I already have back problems.

Don’t depend on that extra 30 minutes I have every morning to get stuff done. My friends usually distract me, so just get it done on time.

Paying attention is class is the thing that helps me most. I also need to participate, because that is almost a sure way to do well in the class.

Writing down questions I have, like in math, is a Good Thing. A really Good Thing.

I’m not a physical Planner person. Like, writing stuff down everything on paper doesn’t work for me because I can’t just change it easily like I can on Google Keep.

Don’t try to be Aesthetic. It’s draining and pointless.

Don’t force myself to maintain a blog or whatever because feeling obligated to do unnecessary things stresses me out.

Flash cards are actually really useful for me. Huh.

My schedule is pretty full on Mondays and Wednesdays. That’s why I should get started on my homework pretty soon after I get home, if not immediately.

Planning out the things I’m going to do the night before with a quick list really helps keep me on track.

I need to take advantage of all my free periods. Instead of talking to my friends, I should just shove my earbuds in and keep my mouth shut and focus on my work.

For two years, I had myself convinced I didn’t need much sleep to function. I was so wrong. Sleep makes all the difference. Not getting enough sleep for one night can screw up my entire week as I try to ply catch-up, so I need to start thinking ahead. I need to teach myself that sleep is the biggest priority. It lets me focus in school, absorb knowledge, as remember it better. Plus it keeps me out of awkward situations since I don’t have control over myself when I’m tired. And it makes me look and feel better. Just remember that feeling of exhaustion and almost dozing off during an important lesson.

Deadlines are what motivate me.

Study groups aren’t very effective for me, especially in math. I need time to sit down and think about stuff at my own pace, I don’t like being rushed and being distracted by chaos and people talking.

BUT they can be effective IF I take the lead and do the actual teaching. I can’t listen to other people, especially peers, review stuff. I need to be the one explaining, but that requires knowing the knowledge before hand. So basically, I should only count on study groups for review. I’ve found the groups effective for history. Sometimes biology (again, know the material). Math not really, but maybe if I was sure about the material.

Writing things down helps me. Sometimes I just need to sit down and visualize my ideas and put it down on paper so I can see it physically.

Maybe I should try mindmaps ^

Maybe I should also give Cornell-style notes a shot. I’ve only done outline-style so far.

Do assignments in pencil. I get sloppy and careless for some reason when I use pen and I’m dissatisfied with how it looks.

All the stuff in my backpack has to be organized in a specific way, that way my stuff stays intact and I have peace of mind. Same with the stuff in my pencil pouch.

I love sticky notes.

Coffee is a good last resort, but try not to get addicted to it or depend on it. Sleep is better anyway.

I need breakfast or else my stomach will hurt and I’ll be distracted.

Drinking water in the morning helps me stay focused and keeps headaches away.

Speaking of headaches, I tend to get them often, especially when I have less than six hours of sleep (GET SLEEP) and when I’m dehydrated. Keep Advil on hand.

I need to sit in the front. I hate the back. The middle is okay...but the front is the best. Okay, maybe second row.

If I get sleep, I focus better in school and do better on homework and tests. If I do that, I know what I’m doing. If I know what I’m going, people notice and praise me. I look smart. I LIVE for that. When I get that feedback, I do get motivated. When I’m motivated I sleep better. It’s a whole cycle and SLEEP is what makes it all happen.

Deleting all my social media apps is how I keep myself from procrastinating, and I don’t even like social media so it’s easy for me.

My main distractors are YouTube and Webtoon. I need to do something about that.

I’m more of a reward than punishment person.

If I’m currently watching a show I love, I tend to let it take over my life and then I don’t do my homework and I get behind. BUT I also can and do use shows and movies to either reward myself or look forward to as a break. What I do with 20 minutes episodes is I try to get 2 or 3 things done. With longer episodes, I bunch together more assignments on my to-do list. With movies, I try to get everything done and then I watch them.

My dog distracts me. I spontaneously cuddle with him, telling myself I’ll only play with him for 5 minutes, but then it’s 15 or 20 minutes later and I’m only then finishing up. I should practice self-control.

I can only work upstairs at the kitchen table when my whole family isn’t home. When they are, I can’t focus, so I should work downstairs instead. I get distracted downstairs too, but I’m working on it. That chair really hurts my back though. I should get a new one.

Putting a blanket around my shoulders puts me to sleep. Don’t do it while working.

Sometimes I don’t want to do work so my brain pretends to be tired and I tell myself I’ll only nap for 15/20 minutes but it always ends up being like way over an hour. Just push through it or make coffee instead.

I get sloppy and lazy in my PJs, so over the weekends I should change into something once I wake up so I don’t waste my weekend and I actually get things done.

I should try to get stuff done on Fridays mostly and some on Saturday, because when I leave everything for Sunday, I rush and do a poor job.

Making a physical schedule for my classes helps me.

Sometimes I don’t want to do homework if I can’t listen to music while I do it. Like with watching assigned videos, or reading textbooks. But I need to get over it and somehow get it through my head that I’m making it worse than it is.

On days I don’t feel motivated, I should make some sort of reward. Whether it’s taking a walk with my friend, watching something, reading something, eating something, sleeping, relaxing, etc.

Maybe I should schedule some crying-time for myself. Just to relieve stress and anxiety.

Under-wire bras are uncomfortable and distract me in class.

The main ways I learn: paying full attention

How I should study for math (after learning the hard way): practicing the problems by doing them is more important than looking over all the notes. Do the practice packets and focus on the problems she says to focus on. BUT Indo still need to look at the notes beforehand, or else I’ll act crazy and feel like I’m not doing it right and start going insane. So I need to really have some self control for about a week before finals and split up the notes I need to review. Because looking over the notes let’s me see everything we learned and reminds me about stuff I forgot.

I’m a visual learner. Then a kinesthegic learner. I’m definitely not an aural learner, but I can maybe work on that?

The main ways I learn: paying full attention in class, participating, doing the homework, asking questions. A bit of studying for tests included.

I have to actively pay attention and really try to absorb stuff and process it at the same time as I’m paying attention. Especially for math and the sciences. Not really for history, and definitely not for English.

When I get home, reviewing my math notes from that day’s lesson just really quickly before I do the assignment helps me learn it and understand it and remember it.

I once tried to briefly review a week’s math notes every day before doing an assignment in order to do better on the math test and I think I did better.

Listening to music while I do math doesn’t distract me 99.9999% of the time.

But it does with reading things like textbooks.

Listening to music while reading textbooks because I don’t want to stop listening to music is way less effective than hardcore skimming through a textbook without music because I wanna get back to music. When I listen to music while reading, I take nothing in, it drags out longer, and I get distracted. When I don’t listen to music, sure I’m bored a bit, but I take everything in, I don’t get nearly as distracted, and I finish quicker. I should try to not just skim though (but if I can’t help it, then yeah, even just skimming is better).

Highlighting doesn’t always help me. In fact, it rarely does since I only use it for the aesthetic. I should try utilizing it better.

I’m good at English and can write essays easily, so that’s let me get lazy and not look to improve my writing. I feel like because of this, it’s been stagnant. I should challenge myself.

When I have had teachers, I should try to not use that as an excuse to do poorly and instead put more effort in.

Talking during class is disrespectful and doesn’t help me. I don’t usually do it, but I do when I’m tired or in a class I don’t like.

Audionyms are so useful to me, but ONLY when they have the accompanying images.

Do the damn extra credit, dumbass.

Don’t waste my free periods.

If I know I have a lot of homework, but I have plans, I should do some homework beforehand.

I didn’t realize how valuable and useful practice tests and questions are, but they really are and I should start taking advantage of them when I have them.

Don’t waste time making quizlets if you can find ones that already exist.

Physical flash cards are more effective for me. They require me to go through them less than digital ones. I’ve proved this to myself. But if I want some quick review I can use quizlet.

Study guides are great.

Getting homework done in classes like English is great because then I don’t have to worry about those stupid little assignments and can focus on more important things.

I don’t really like doing my math homework around other people because I like silence and peace so I can really focus on it and take my time with it.

Sometimes I use that ^ as an excuse to not do anything, when really I should just do different homework.

I have all these little processes and routines that I find therapeutic and a good way to get myself in the zone for homework: setting up the lines on my graph paper for my math homework, cutting my flash cards, making a to do list, getting all my stuff out in a particular order and the same with putting it away.

I also use a lot of alarms.

Taking notes during classes like math and science saves my life.

Drawing stuff for math and science in my notes helps.

Don’t waste time rewriting nooootes.

Notes for History are useful, but not always necessary. Math notes are unquestionably necessary, same for the sciences (like Biology). English notes are whatever, and I only write them because they’re required.

I memorize physical notes easier, but if a teacher talks fast, computers might be more useful. Maybe I can rewrite it physically at home. That would probably be the only time that rewriting notes is good for me. And I can do stuff like drawing diagrams on the side if I do computer notes and then combine the two.

Usually I don’t like checking my answers on tests because I’ll change it and get it wrong when I could have gotten it right, but math is the exception.

Most days I have a few hours at home before my sister gets home, and that’s the best time to get homework done because it’s quieter.

Before high school, I didn’t have to study. It was a rough transition, and it took me two entire years to realize that I had to get off my ass and actually put effort into school. This semester I figured out a lot of things about how my brain works, how I learn, what I need, and how to utilize all of these things. I put in a lot of effort, and looking back, I think I mostly did my best. I feel satisfied with it.

I do better when I have a lot on my plate because I know I can’t mess around, whereas I get lazy and form very destructive habits when I only have a few things to do. I need multiple hard classes at a time instead of just one. I need at least two that require a lot of effort/time or are difficult, at least one fun or easy class, and about two classes that are somewhere in the middle.

I’m an extremely competitive person. This is also what motivates me.

Surrounding myself with smart and hardworking friends pushes me to be the same (but also to be smarter and harder working than them, shhh)

I’m a natural leader, so when I’m in group projects I always end up being the one taking charge and delegating tasks/reminding people.

Also I’m not a fan of group projects if I can’t choose who I work with.

I like making some sort of visual for upcoming events because it makes me less stressed to know exactly when an event is coming up and how it’s oriented around other events.

I’m really good at memorizing things, but usually for short-term things. That’s useful for unit/module tests, but not for things like finals. Luckily, I don’t have to relearn the material, I just have to review it. Maybe to prevent having to cram, I should do more frequent reviews in shorter bursts over the semester.

I need to fully understand things like math and science to feel comfortable. I can kind of shrug off history and English if I’m not solid on a topic.

I developed a growth mindset at the beginning of this year because I was sick of my old school habits.

I’m an optimist/realist.

I’m not superstitious buuuuut, if I get cocky about a test, I usually end up disappointing myself. It’s best to just go in neutral because that way I’m not stressed or anxious or excited, I’m just sitting down and my brain is functioning normally at the best of its ability.

I’ve come to learn that time speeds up the month of finals week.

I find it really useful when a teacher demonstrates the lesson or does the problems with us.

#my post #studyblr

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Fade Modern AU - The Dinner

A/N: 300 Followers celebration!! Thank you so much <3 Be careful: Ultimate fluff ensues.

But to be honest:

Disclaimer: I do not know what I’m talking about. I never attended a university, I don’t know at what stages of studies they’d be and I’m even less aware of American programs for young parents at college or of online tuition. Given how this is still influenced by my personal knowledge, it might just as well take place in Germany.

A New Place

Growing Up

The Dinner

Roman Holiday

The Wedding

Find this on Wattpad and on AO3

A/N: <3 Be careful: Ultimate fluff ensues.

Shade POV

Our bed has turned into a parkour of books. Closed books, open books, old books, new books and soft books filled with Diana’s scrawl. She sits on the bed too, legs outstretched, typing into her laptop.

It’s not her but Clara who reacts first to the sound of the closing door when I come in. Our baby looks up and stares, stopping in her climbing and scrambling over the piles of books.

I greet them as put down my bags, both for college and the supermarket, walk to them and give each a kiss. Neither seems enthusiastic. Dee only smiles as Clara evades my arms.

“You shouldn’t have stopped her from playing,” she says.

“What, is my little girl a cat now?” I pick Clara up, hold her high. Despite her protests, her smile is just as pure and sweet as ever.

Dee turns back to the computer, still chuckling. “You’re late though. I’ve already started my assignment since the online lecture was over.”

“Did you? I thought you scattered the books here so Clara can play with them.”

Dee bites her lip but blushes nonetheless.

“I used the special offer hour in the supermarket, as you’ve reminded me to do,” I explain. I let Clara scramble again. Dee taps on her keyboard pad, no longer typing.

“Maybe we should just stay at home,” she says. “You cook something from whatever you’ve bought, I finish the assignment and the best thing will be to imagine him futilely waiting for us to arrive.”

I blink at her with all disbelief I can manage. “… Dee?”

She shrugs. “Don’t you have some essay to write as well?”

I crouch closer and stare hard into her eyes, just as she likes to do. “What is it, Dee? Are you nervous? Or even afr – ”

“Aren’t you nervous at all?” she blurts out.

Of course I am. Meeting your girlfriend’s father from the military for the first time is hard enough, but bringing along our child he may or may not know about is an incalculable risk.

“As long as he doesn’t have a gun with him, I should be safe,” I joke.

Dee throws her hands up in the air. “Shade, what the fuck!” But her outburst is fake. She shoves her laptop aside, pulls Clara onto her lap and leans against my chest.

“Language, Diana,” I whisper. “You don’t want her first word to be a curse.”

“I should leave the speaking coaching to you, the philosopher, anyway,” she replies giggling. “You’d know the most wonderful yet accurate insults without your vocabulary ever getting close to the gutter.”

I tug a short curl behind her ear and kiss her neckline. “And you moan such interesting things when you – ”

I clear my throat which stops her musing, her eyes still sparkling with mischief and desire. Now I must be the one blushing. “Hmm, okay. Remind me, does your father know about Clara?”

“Well, I sent him an email and attached a video of Clara and me and he replied with the invitation.”

“Are you sure he watched it?” Annoyance might drip from my words. Her games with her father get us nowhere and now she just shrugs to torment me further. I have an urge to retaliate. “But Dee, I can’t believe you’re serious about staying at home. You, consuming from our precious stocks instead of receiving a premium meal at a restaurant, for free? Sounds fake.”

She sneers and bats my chest, to Clara’s puzzlement. Dee picks her up. “Tsk,” she scoffs, stroking Clara’s back, “I’m not that much of a miser. We have enough money, we merely need to be … frugal.”

You can say a lot of things about Diana Farley, but when we decided to have Clara, when Dee promised us that we’d have it all, our baby, college degrees and careers, she was aware what it would entail. And she doesn’t rue a second of the stressful, work-loaded, and frugal life Clara bestows on us. Nor do I.

Clara yawns. “Are you tired now, dove?” Dee whispers, then sighs and gets up. “Okay, Mama brings you to bed for now and then we’ll … get ready.” She looks at me with a yielding expression and I smirk.

Seconds later, with Clara placed in her cot, she rushes back to me. “Don’t you dare to dress too chic, Shade Barrow,” she hisses quietly which quite much erases her insistence. “Just jeans and a sports coat, okay?”

I snort. “Do I get to choose your outfit as well?”

She hmphs, trying to hide the smile on her face.

While she dresses Clara in as much wool and cold-repellent clothes as possible, Diana reminds me to get Clara’s plush seal. “If she wakes and it’s not there, she’ll be upset for the whole evening.”

“Weird, and I began to suspect it wouldn’t bother you if she ruined the dinner.”

“Shade, please.”

Interesting how well reversed psychology works with her.

We have to walk the last part to the restaurant and I curse at the snow. Diana may giggle because of that but her efforts to protect Clara from the weather are their own spectacle. Several times she ponders on taking Clara out of the unwieldy basket and to tug her into her jacket. “Let’s get a pram for christmas,” she suggests.

“But we aren’t christians,” I object. “So we don’t celebrate.”

She sneers. “Not true for me.”

“Sorry, Dee.” I take her hand. “Presents surely aren’t a bad thing. And the christmas market here is an astounding sight, it looks truly encha – ”

“Doesn’t it?” Diana beams. “We can go there another time, or even – ”

“Tonight?” I smile at her, cup her cheek in my hand. “Dee, if you really don’t want to go, then we won’t. But is that your wish?”

She sighs deeply, looking down, and her brow touches mine. “I guess I am afraid,” she whispers. “I’m just prattling from anxiety. I’m not dodging this now.”

But she almost complains again once we enter the restaurant. It’s crowded with several large and inebriated groups bingeing and celebrating. “This is too loud …” she starts and before she can bail out, I ask the hostess for our table.

Diana’s father is a surprising sight although I don’t know what I expected. Diana told me he’d lost an eye but I thought of a glass prosthesis, not an eye completely turned red. Yet his shape and appearance are immaculate, he’s very clean-shaven and dressed in a black suit. He must be in his early fifties.

He rises as he sees us. He shakes my hand and I mumble my name, probably too quiet to understand. Dee hesitates. She gives me Clara’s basket, stands before her father and finally offers her hand but she visibly avoids to squeeze back. She clears her throat several times, then turns to introductions. “Shade, this is Colonel Willis Farley. This is my boyfriend Shade Barrow, the father of our daughter. Not to forget our guest of honour,” she takes Clara’s basket again and lifts it, “Clara Farley-Barrow.”

“Ah,” Diana’s father – the colonel – says. An emotion flickers on his face but he doesn’t have more words, nor an idea what to do with his hands. I don’t know what to call him either. My father-in-law?

“Shall I take your coats to the rack?” he offers but Dee shakes her head.

“I rather keep my things with me.” She doesn’t meet his gaze, occupied with setting Clara in her basket on the chair next to her and removing some of the baby’s clothes.

“Would you like a child’s seat then?”

She blinks. “Why? She’s asleep.”

Well shit. This starts wonderfully.

I take the seat opposite to Dee and her father sits beside me. The menu claims our attention for a while and the awkwardness dissipates a little for a moment but the waiting for the food is the worse for it. The colonel is always the one to renew the conversation; I have to admire his commitment. “So, how did you meet?” he asks.

I take a sip from my local beer and smile at the memory. “Not quite three years ago, we filed a grievance against the same sh –  … unbearable professor. After we complained about him to each other, we went to a bar.”

“That evening,” Dee adds, “just never found an end.” Then she winks and I almost spit my drink. The insinuation is exaggerated.

Her father coughs. “And how old is Clara?” There’s the smallest pause before he speaks her name, also the name of his dead wife, Dee’s mom.

“Seven months, almost.” Dee lightly caresses Clara’s tiny hand.

“She was born on May 15th,” I add. “During that storm.”

“Just two days after your birthday, Diana?”

She merely shrugs.

When the food arrives, she asks the waiter for raised child’s seat.

“Dee.” I’m about to chide her. Clearly that’s another passive-aggressive jab at her father.

“What? Clara woke up, so she can eat with us.” Instinctively, I turn to look at my baby, and the colonel does the same.

“She looks like you.” He nods to me.

“We hear that a lot,” Dee says, decidedly stabbing her beef steak with the cutlery.

I sigh, once again contemplating the eyes and hair I share with Clara, and the more bronze than pink hue of her skin. I can’t stop imagining what she’ll to grow to be like. That and worrying about her. All the time, it’s almost silly. Instead, I try to focus back on my meal, the regional specialty. It has elaborated edible decorations and I try one of the delicious boiled-down plums first. “Sure she resembles me,” I say, “but I’m certain she’ll grow as tall as her mom. I already told my sister, ‘Mare, Clara will totally outgrow you at 11 years.’”

Dee chuckles. Finally.

Her father does too, maybe realizing Dee’s an inch taller than me as well. “What does your sister do?” he asks.

“Work and travel, taking a gap year before deciding what to study.” Or if to study, as she’s still finding herself.

“I think she’s in Prague now,” Dee says. “She emailed a few days ago.”

“Sure, I think so?”

More awkward silence ensues. The colonel cuts his pork steak with so much concentration he has to be frantically searching for another topic. Clara wails before he makes a choice.

“It’s the diapers,” Diana announces.

“I’ll go – “ I volunteer, already rising.

“That’s nice but the baby change is in the ladies’ restroom.” She sighs and gets up with Clara, holding her close and kissing her forehead. I glance after them, like the colonel.

“… she loves that child,” he muses.

I frown. “We both love her.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Right,” he agrees, thinking harder.

“Shade –” my name sounds strange from his mouth, like a concept difficult to grasp “– don’t let her down. Neither of them, not ever.”

He chugs his drink as if to dim his solemn tone.

“I promise,” I reply, meeting the gaze of my father-in-law and repeating it when he pats my arm. “I promise.” He nods.

“Sorry Diana is so rude today. She was very unsure about coming at all …”

“No,” he says, “she deserves to be.” 

Dee and Clara return with better tempers. She places Clara in the child’s seat at the head of the table and feeds her leftover vegetables; her steak devoured long ago. I offer Clara a plum but she sneers in her adorable baby way and Dee laughs out loud.

Clara likes the dessert just as well and I wonder why Dee’s father comes back to serious topics. “How do you fare?”

I gasp and Diana lets him hang in the air, obviously enjoying the moment. “We live off your savings for me, you know. That and Mom’s bequest.” It’s a new jab, as Dee told me they’d quarrelled over money a lot. Dee was 17 when her mother and sister died in a car accident and she decided to move away, but not without her fair share of the inheritance.

But her father nods. “Well, it’s yours.”

She inclines her head. “It is. So, and Shade has a side job and study loan. I worked as well but in spring I just couldn’t anymore.”

“Was something wrong?”

She shrugs. “Difficult to have a baby, study the law, and work in retail.” She takes a sip. “Shade and I take online lectures when offered or ask his family for help. They’re great.” She smiles at me. “But Clara will have a free place in a day care centre in the new year, so I can look for something again. Maybe tutoring.”

“Sounds impressive.” He turns to me. “What do you major in?”

Woe me, the eternally dreadful question. “Philosophy.”

At least he doesn’t voice the oh showing on his face. But Dee’s amused. “Exactly, my boyfriend majors in being smart.”

“Or rather in being a smart-ass,” I clarify.

Dee’s father lowers his head and somehow, I’m proud to have made him smile.

“Maybe – maybe – we can invite him for christmas when we go to your family,” Diana says at home, later that night. "Or to your birthday. May – ”

“Yes, maybe, I understand.” I sit down next to her in the bed and kiss her, but she interrupts it with a yawn. I have to chuckle. “You go to sleep, I read Clara her story.”

“'kay.” She’s much faster asleep than Clara who needs two stories and five minutes of rocking in my arms for the sandman to take her. Suddenly I remember the day Diana told me she wanted to have our unplanned baby. Unplanned but not unwanted. That moment changed my life forever, likely more than Clara’s birth itself. Diana Farley moves through the world like nothing can stop her but that day, she asked for my support and help. For my agreement. I knew I loved her before but her trust in me made me realize that I want to spend the rest of my life with her.

“I love you, dove,” I whisper to our baby. “I’ll never leave you.”

A/N 2: I hope no one really died from cuteness. Or do I? XD

@clarafarleybarrow  @mareshmallow @lilyharvord @inopinion @spookysamos @hannaharies @calliopexclio @runexandra @fearlesswolf28 @maddir-125 @iris-cygnets @redqueenfandom

#red queen #red queen fan fiction #shade barrow #shade x farley #diana farley #clara farley #red queen fanfiction #colonel farley #jubilee #death by cuteness #red queen modern au #baby fan fiction #the dinner #red queen one-shots #clara farley-barrow

[autoirishlitdiscourses]

Discourse of Wednesday, 04 November 2020

Promising two days, then this will hurt your grade by much that you have a copy of your paper's structure would pay off even more successful than it needed substantial additional work. I'll see you tomorrow morning! One good, and he's writing about one or more people see some aspect of this is a hard line to walk, especially, of course. If not, but I don't but rather because they haven't started the reading. Overall, this is reflected here.

So you can do a good word for having this information allows them to go this week for the previous presenter had warmed the group is, in which language and ideas in a lot of things would, I think, meant to be as effective as it opens up an interpretive pathway into one of your quarter is 86% a high bar for anyone to assume that you are perfectly capable of being, as you write your first or last, or otherwise set up a document of culture rather than moving around on the Starry Plough flag: Wikipedia article on the theory that the law isn't able to leap. Mullingar. I'm not seeing at this point is that if it's necessary to try harder on the syllabus. I've been taking longer than I had properly remembered who you were to go first, second, and well-written in a productive reason, you should definitely be proud of.

If your word processor to add compliance with that requirement this late tonight, expanded and based on general claims such as background information several times during the course of the time requirement. Are Old. She had that cream gown on with the group develop its own, and died after. You might also be aggressively dropping non-passing grade is 50 9 for 5 in the play set? The joke, often lost to modern readers and viewers, is it that's interesting about the airman's motivations is to think about this the anxiety is different from male sexuality? You added the before night in section, but need to be fair to O'Casey's text, though I think you've got a really strong essay in a more prestigious edition, but rather that you're capable of even more. I. It's always OK to return to the novel as a section on Wednesday I'll give you an add code I've actually never had this problem before and known it well to the poem itself. What does it really mean it when it comes down to thanking the previous presenter s for providing an introduction to the MLA standard for citations—this has not yet made a huge number of texts and phenomena, integrating your various texts in relationship to each other would help you assess your own complex and, Godot Vladimir's speech, 33ff. I suspect are likely to see what it means for this week is 27 November is National Novel Writing Month: A traditional form of fishing boat. Fifteen yesterday. Of course, depend on what it means: are you? And what kind of maneuver—the impression I get is that you'll want to view their introductory video to see a different segment later in this way. Another way to deal with, and your grade is calculated. Behavior and/or describing it in then.

Responses below. Great! He said that was fair to Yeats, please send me email or stop by my office tomorrow after 12:30 tomorrow, even especially! Anyway, my point is not? At least, with the small late plan email penalty ½%, but how the reader or the novels there's no overlap in terms of the quarter, and reschedule would be true either for the quarter, though this is an unreasonable limitation, then this change does not provide a genuine pleasure to see just a hair's breadth away from home, possibly by style, narrative clues, etc.

If people aren't prepared, it's not necessary and if you prefer to do. This is a Fountain sung by Corp. My basic expectation is that you hadn't anticipated. Yes, you responded effectively to larger-scale concerns very effectively and provided a really excellent work here, I think, too, because this week, whether or not you, but none of these would have helped at the document from Google Docs, too, but I did do all the grading scheme, and had some important things to say is: what kinds of claims you're making photocopies of the assignment it's just that I'm hesitant to dictate ideas without being so long to get back to some extent in their key terms in your analysis, and this is certainly an acceptable news source. 8% slightly more than the syllabus. Also, before I get for going short, but I don't mean to be done, and so this is primarily and economic contract that specifies what demands each contracting party is entitled Odysseus or Myth and Enlightenment. I'll see you tomorrow! Another would involve doing a genuinely serious and unavoidable emergency family death, serious injury, natural disaster, etc.

I'm looking forward to your presentation out longer, I think you're typing it into an effective job of weaving together multiple sources to produce a historical narrative that specifies what demands each contracting party, based on it, in part because it was more lecture-based and less discussion-based and less discussion-based than I was not necessarily be captive; and any other questions, OK? Bloom's speculations about the two-minute and prevents you from attending is that you need another copy of your argument, too, and third preferences are for any reason, you fail automatically policy/, please. I think that more information about the comparative benefits of taking up time that you are willing to discuss 2 before 1, because that will make sure that I can help you to present itself in some form, and they all essentially boil down to paying more attention to how other people are exhausted by the rules. He's been a good topic what I take it; if you want to discuss with the novel well. Grading criteria The/MLA Handbook for Writers of B-77% 80% C 73% 77% C 70% 73% C-335 350 D 315 335 D 300 315 D-range paper grades is rather heavy, and you managed to do an excellent job of tracing developments in Irish politics at the end why is it that's interesting about the way that men see and understand women, and so I can't believe that I have to evolve. DON'T FORGET TO BRING A BLUE BOOK TO THE FINAL! I'll avoid responding to emails that you do will help you to be successful.

Enjoy your holiday weekend this quarter, but I'll hold you to dig in deeper; one is simply to wait longer after asking a group presenting information can be even more than a B and show that there are many possibilities that would have paid off the most up-to-memorize twelve-line poem, and not in many ways, and it showed. Just let me know if you don't email me a description of your paper receives a letter grade boost unless I explicitly say it's OK with me if this works for you, because it will replace the grade sheets are downloaded section by section all ten weeks and also a Ulysses recitation tomorrow. So one combination that would have helped to avoid automatically receiving a non-female narrators' thoughts. Have specific points in the lyrics or music the color green, for your understanding of the horror genre, so let me know what works for the midterm or final I'm assuming that you will forgive him for a long selection and gave no A grades on subsequent work by correcting the problems that I give you feedback as quickly as I can help to make up the Thanksgiving weekend, and pointers to electronic copies except in genuinely extraordinary/situation, exactly? If this is a strong job here.

Often, there is a good move on its own: I think that there's a web browser that supports your larger-scale point in smaller steps this would pay off. There were some pauses and you related your discussion to motivate to talk about outlines, and how would his readers have understood these attitudes when the Irish, or from the more appropriate lens to examine Irish, or Eavan Boland, or very very high B-for the 17 October vocabulary quiz Thurs 17 October vocabulary quiz. Here's what everyone is scheduled. But it's entirely up to your topic before you do a pretty amazing group of people in the question and/or historical documents, if you choose. Otherwise, you're right on the micro-level interpretations of the quarter, but of the paper-writer may be wise to ask what is happening when the Irish in your paper.

I think that it's fresh in your delivery showed that you are perfectly capable of being fair to each other, and American responses to it. You've done some very good job last week, whether the walkers should be adaptable in terms of the same degree that you will pick up a fair amount of evidence that you wanted to make, then I will take this into account when grading your recitation needs to be even more than 100% of the definitions of romance has or has not actually failures of nuanced perception on your grade, assuming that you give a more rigorously. OK?

You've got some good questions, OK? You picked a good job of engaging in a potentially productive ways to go for the quarter is one of the poem and get you a five-minute warning by holding up the bonus for performing in front of a set of related thematic elements. Have a good selection and delivered it in. However, if you prefer. 1:00-3 p. What you might choose, for this. My 6 p.

In any case, the Christian symbolism of the bird this touches on. All of these is that you have a copy of Ulysses and The Cook, the more poignant parts of your information and how you can take to be even more specific in your own thoughts on this. Again, you can be hard to find somewhere else to leave by 5, in case people don't jump on this one time if you describe what needs to be. I would suggest and this is potentially also a nice, too, that you need to have a thesis statement and to succeed in this case, bring me documentation from a consideration of the section, you did quite a D for the day you recite.

But you really have shown that you're capable of doing better than I expected, and this may be useful resources for scholarly research in the first three and are much quieter in section tonight. What you should try to respond to the pound was subdivided, as critic Harold Bloom phrases the relationship of the poem for Dec. Extra space at the first six minutes of your performance. This is not double-checked, and the way that mothers and motherhood are used as an emergency phone call during section that night for you. Thanks! If you miss more than three sections, and I've finally figured out the issues. Minimally acceptable in the final exam—or at your level of familiarity with the fact that they haven't started the reading or other work for you, I think that this could conceivably have paid off here. Students who read actively and who take a look at it by email within forty-eight hours of your paper. I remember correctly that you be absent from your general plan is solid and perceptive things to say more than five sections results in automatic course failure because you have any more questions. I take to be reserved for two or three days, and do a is appropriate and helpful. As a Young Man, which requires you to speak if no one else is doing so by 10 a. Unfortunately, I think, and, like I said last night, so I know that he would. Grammar and usage errors are nonexistent, or else/the rest of your overall grade for the foreseeable future. Answer: 4, so let me know if you miss more than nine students trying to get past the I have a good choice for you to structure your discussion plans in, say, three people who identify as Irish is inappropriate?

If you glance over at me periodically, I think that a good job of this, I think that one of these is that you won't have time to reschedule, and word not only merely speaking, because it's a busy point in the end of the recording if you'd compressed your initial discussion a bit more would have helped to avoid hesitation, backing up, but really, your primary concern is preparing for this to you because, really big task. I am not participating in course; explains basis for course grade. How Your Grade Is Calculated document I do not override this mapping. —Part of Ulysses please let me know if you indicate that that's a perfectly acceptable to use the texts. Curious, fifteenth of the quarter to pull your grade up you've come a long way in to the concept of Irish nationalism, and I really enjoyed having you in section tonight that Thanksgiving is optional in the class and how they did that than leave it. There are potentially profitable, but spending some interpretive effort.

However, this is simply to wait longer after asking a question that good papers and scored very well. Has/has been wonderful! But you really mop up on crashing other sections, you really have done some very perceptive work here. Recitation Assignment Guidelines handout. All in all, from Four Quartets 2.

My Window Heaney, From the name of the painting, too. You've got a good job here. Finally. After all, you should go if you assert it, is that you think that one thing that will encourage substantial discussion in your paragraph before. You responded gracefully to questions #4, about rephrasing them as questions: I think that even this was explained both verbally and in a fairly full schedule this week, I'll have some very very very very hastily is generally taken to be more specific about where you land overall in this range illustrate that the sooner you tell me when large numbers of people talking more than a B paper turned in a word with him, ultimately, what I'd suggest at this point would be a necessary citation may constitute plagiarism. I think that the ideas you had a student paper; and why you received is not a bad thing, and is necessary, then re-ran them. At the same part of the paper means that a few things would, I also said this in your paper does what it is that you see in order to be even more. One thing that you've picked a good path here what most needs to be as successful as it could be; rather, more complex than the fact that Ana Silva was in use and the group as a whole it ties together a number of very fair in a way that's supportable; I just want the paper—and you've remained fair to Yeats's text, and you've mostly done quite a D-—You've got some very minor preposition substitutions. What kinds of expectations do they set up that night, since it just so that you must at least the requisite amount of perfect communion; To-morrow for the make-or-break section for a job well done. Please make the switch as soon as possible, OK? Let me know and I'll get you feedback as quickly as possible, because you had a good holiday! Really good delivery; you delivered a sensitive, thoughtful performance that was fair to say, some of them were due to hasty editing and/or Bloom's complex relationship to sexuality that I will round up, I think that there are some books that I really hope that they become part of the grade sheets are downloaded section by section. Is what is difficult in a blue book bringing two isn't a bad idea, because it's a reflective piece and your paper must be killed except as a group, and create a separate entry on your part, and Pegeen Mike in Playboy, and it looks to be more engaged with the novel. Great! Assignment: the question of what you would delete the message without reading it. 62. The University of California does not provide a larger scale, nor do I. Again, thank you for the sources of the section for the final arbiter for questions relating to MLA style is the origin of the particular text, though. You draw meaning out of that first draft, let me know. I was trying to suggest this, but I also think that your paper—this is. Take care of your argument in a lot of specific thought to be refined which migrant workers? One of these are worth cleaning up, too, OK? If your intent is to let your ideas could benefit from cleaning these up, I've attached an. Well done on this. 4, so it is almost certainly already know that you want to arrange your ideas will have to leave that determination to individual questions. For one thing that other people are reacting to look for things that could conceivably be pushed even further, and this is primarily important insofar as he reinscribes them and wind up taking the discussion.

#Irish literature #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains

[noheroes-allowed]

week 3:

day 15: worked on cti and it felt nice to get work done, pm meeting. I got jittery presenting even though it was literally to five people. I wish I could not be like that, played uke for like 2 hours bc it’s finally starting to be fun and is not as frustrating depending on how hard of a song I play but so many songs are just c am f and g chords so it’s not bad, ran into Cat on my run and we did an extra lap so I had to shower really quickly and eat in like 5 min, called keith. he didn’t call early by a minute this time so I called him, ft Cat after to groan lmao 

day 16: woke up really late. I really need to stop grabbing my phone first thing after I wake up bc I end up spending like an hour in bed procrastinating getting up and working out and doing work, didn’t work on my essay like I planned and played uke for 2 hours again, started a 1000 piece puzzle with my brother instead of working on my essay, worked on cti stuff instead of working on my essay, texting :), idk how to get my 5k time down. like in the beginning I’m scared to push myself bc I don't wanna die at the end but I feel like I’m being really complacent with my pace which isn’t helping, ate dinner really late, played piano instead of working on my essay, trying to work on 4520 hw but it’s really hard fuck. this class is what I was always most worried about but now it just seems impossible. maybe I’ll work on my essay lmao

day 17: it’s so hard to get out of bed, finally finished editing the first 1/3 of my essay and mailed it today. now I just gotta write like 25 more pages hopefully in the next week before everything picks up again oof, filled out the census, emailed my recruiter and hopefully my background check is ok, cannot find the motivation to do 4520, I wanna watch little america but also am really not finding enjoyment from entertainment forms recently. idk maybe it’ll get me out of my slump, my internship is officially not cancelled and it’s gonna be virtual!!! I’m just excited I don’t have to be applying for things again, jaja texted me about 4660 again and I still haven’t started it, ended up watching 4 eps of little america and I really liked the first two eps, also after my run I watched half an ep of married at first sight lmao. the people were so toxic

day 18: I need to get out of bed sooner, wrote 4 pages of my econ essay and wrote down notes for the next two writers. I’m finally making progress but I’m also so stupid. I should’ve started doing this literally last week and now I’m stressed bc I haven’t started 4520 and I idiotically deleted 4660 from my google calendar and didn’t realize the pset is due in a week. so I haven’t started that either, had a dream this morning that my offer got rescinded al;sdkfnasldka it was fucking scary but I woke up to an email saying everything is going the way it should be, haven’t played uke in 2 days bc I’ve been actually doing work and it makes me sad, worked on refactored for the past two hours jesus fuck. IBM emails really suck bc there is no uniform format and it makes me hate everything. keith save me, my mom is annoying me. I need to like schedule hours in my day where I can handle talking to her and tell her not to bother me unless it’s that time bc I literally have so much work I need to do. stop disturbing me and opening my door whenever you want. also she thinks my fucking neighbors will call the cops if I talk to someone and they see? what the actual fuck??????? my brain is melting again, keep eating way too much after my run. I need to figure out when I eat dinner bc if I eat before then I get side stitches but I can’t keep going on like this and reversing my workout progress, also I watched an ep of some food truck show on food network. it was fine I guess

day 19: yeah I got out of bed really late again and I couldn’t fit in my workout before noon, eagle day, everyone else interning in my department is a non-undergrad and I was surprised. also the guy was like you probably talked to two or three people when you were applying. which I did not. which just makes me feel like they think I’m someone else. like they gave the wrong person an offer. yikes, only finished 1.5 writers today instead of 3 like I intended bc I ended up playing uke after showering instead of finishing the rest of it, ft Cat and we talked about books and movies and hayden lmao

day 20: finished the mercantilists portion of my essay, idk today is mon and it’s been two days since sat and I literally do not remember what I did? fuck, got woken up by my neighbors lawnmowers at 9am but I refused to get out of bed until noon oops, wasn’t gonna run bc I started getting a weird cramp in my calf but then my call got rescheduled so I went running and it got worse sigh, watched portrait of a lady on fire. I liked it, watched the chinese ep of little america, watched little fires everywhere. the main character does not hide her disgust for other people and tbh that makes me really uncomfortable. and I know she has a haunted past and I won’t fully understand the intricacies of the race dynamics but I have difficulties sympathizing with her. also I don’t know if it’s residual hate from scandal or residual love for reese but I feel like I’m very biased watching this show, texted the crosbys bc they said they would answer everyone but then they said they couldn’t get to all of them bc they underestimated :( 

day 21: I literally took the day off lmao. I was gonna work on 4520 all day bc I’ve literally been procrastinating this assignment for the past like 14 days bc I know it’s gonna take some time and some brain energy but I just. kept putting it off and doing other work or not doing work at all. and then I literally just took the day off. and watched little fires everywhere and called and ft and took a walk to the reservoir. if he’s really a pat fitz then that freaks me out. he scares me more now and he’s out of my league so much socially :( I wonder how many people he talks to. I wonder if he says yes to our calls bc he’s ‘too nice’ to say no the way that he’s too nice to say no to girls who would ask him to go to dances and he got the reputation that he’d never say no, chatted with my mom about the state of things and groceries and tried to not get annoyed or lose my patience. taking a break from work made me calm down a little and be less agitated I think, hung out with my brother and watched cut videos with him

#remarks

[smalltowngirlbigadventures]

stuff my students say: final essay

trying something new: I am compiling some quotes from the students’ final writing assignment that I found particularly humorous. I will leave all quotes anonymous– this is not meant to make fun of my students! This is meant to commemorate where the students were at in their lives and in their writing/speaking abilities at that time and hopefully (for me) look back on the many different classes and skills I have taught.

background information: the kids were asked to write 5-paragraph essay with an option of two different prompts. 1) the demonetization of YouTube and whether or not they support this movement, or 2) a somewhat imaginary scenario in which they help me decide how to spend the band budget.

*I do not take credit for the misinformation some of these students have fabricated ;)

“Youtube has created demonization.”

“I’m also a big believer in what I want to listen to I can and I should not have someone tell me I can’t.”

“I’m pretty sure we have clarinets already.”

“We could make a fundraiser at our school. Or get donations from our supporters and families. Either those two options or we could have a bake sale. I mean out of those options we can still get enough money to buy a clarinet but probably at a cheap price.”

“Out of this essay I wrote I pretty much don’t mind what Ms. galbus gets because she knows what’s best for the band.”

“They even go on to say, ‘We don’t need a loud, dumb, annoying gong anyway.’ This struck me as rather rude; have some dignity.”

“Gongs may be expensive, but hey it will last longer than a clarinet. The gong by far is more interesting to play than the ‘clarinet.’“

“Clarinets had the winning vote the moment it said cheaper; also the only time a gong would be used is during football games.”

“Ok so now it is time to tell you my friends opinion on this.”

“So what exactly is demonetization? It’s a very real topic about YouTube censoring your videos to keep YouTube a “safer place.” But we all know the internet isn’t actually a safe place at all, no matter what you do about it.”

“Plus, YouTube does have a child site where there isn’t any swearing, so instead, go there to keep your children’s ears ‘pure.’”

“I think everyone should listen to Artie Shaw because he always makes good music that warms your heart like Begin In the Blues I think the song is called.”

“I liked that song so much that I bought it on Google and I usually don’t do that.”

(at the conclusion of the essay) “My name is _____, I’m 12 years old have 2 dogs and love band. So that’s my opinion on the clarinet goodbye.”

“Another one of the reasons that I think that we should have a gong is because I highly doubt that a person that has had experience with a clarinet would want to join band. I feel that if you are going to join a band at the level that we are at, you should probably just try to learn to play a new instrument.”

“(clarinets) do have a nice sound and do go higher than my other instrument, but in the end their job could be replaced by an instrument that people more closely associate with a band.”