#YES i am pitching a polycule.

[crimeronan]

i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

#thebibliosphere i apologize for tagging u when we don't know each other at all i just want u to get credit for the initial discussion #given that it is so much more thoughtful and clear than anything i'd think to write. #i did NOT mean to spend multiple hours on this but once i started writing i was like #oh god i actually do have like a lot i can tell monogamous people about writing poly people & the poly perspective #anyway. i mention it in the post but people can send me (respectful. obviously) asks if they have questions #i cant promise to answer all of them bc i am bad at this. but if i'm well enough then i'll try #polyamory #non-monogamy #ethical non-monogamy #writing #my writing #writing advice #relationships

[sighborgz]

in which ezra visits luke’s training camp, and mando never really got around to leaving :’-)

#star wars rebels #the mandalorian #star wars fanart #luke skywalker #dinluke #skybridger #YES i am pitching a polycule. #3 dads and a gremlin. #ezra bridger #swr #star wars rebels fanart #mando #mandalorian fanart #din djarin #star wars au #grogu #baby yoda #bastard. #original trilogy #star wars ot #sw

[cattles-bians]

damie vibecca exes au part 8

post directory

obsetress: now i just want fanart of damvibecca at the gym

em: well. pitch it to me comrade ghostfucker

obsetress: idk that's about as far as i got i just reread that bit about vibecca in their matching gym outfits and my brain got stuck

em: hypothetically do u have a colour palette in mind bc i associate gym outfits w like. bright loud colours and

em: idk if it works w our earth sign queens

[em note: emily is a liar and did NOT draw fanart of damvibecca at the gym]

[em note 2: we have the gym art now [x] [x]]

obsetress: i was imagining like charcoals tbh, or jewel tones

obsetress: i could see them in like jewel tone purples or that jewel tone blue green color

obsetress: yeah viola jewel tones or blacks n charcoals

obsetress: becs pastels and camels but jewel tones at the gym

em: it’s about Matching

em: And Destroying Ur Ex (platonically)

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: viola's feeling particularly smug about it but then

obsetress: dani's in an old school tshirt and shorts and jamie's in............ one of dani's old school tshirts and shorts

em: YES

obsetress: not intentionally, she just grabbed whatever was there

obsetress: dani chirps "oh you two look so cute! baby look, they have a matched set"

obsetress: viola arches an eyebrow "and so do you, it seems" and dani laughs "not on purpose, jamie just grabbed whatever was on top in the drawer"

viola: you two... share... a wardrobe?

dani: yeah?

em: god cute

obsetress: cute n dumb

em: they can share nearly everything except pants

em: well. pants as a treat

em: haha pants

em: trousers

obsetress: also rly nice rly clean smooth funny juxtaposition in my brain of vibecca being the ones who intentionally match and damie the ones for whom it just accidentally happens

obsetress: hahahah pants

obsetress: they can share pants but................ should they

em: idk miss chapter 12 danis thighs jamies pyjamas

em: should they

obsetress: PLEASE

obsetress: that's exactly what i was referring to THANKS

obsetress: anyway

obsetress: rebecca just laughs

obsetress: viola huffs and bex is like "sorry, babe, but it is kind of funny"

em: dani jamie wearing like

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY

em: poor viola

obsetress: thinking about dani's ass in those

em: yeah....

em: violas huffing until jamies exercise flush lasts a little Too Long

obsetress: big blush jamie taylor

em: she’s still like ‘oi dani close ur mouth’ but then she

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: just ogling each other

obsetress: (they briefly pause to ogle vi and rebecca passing a medicine ball back and forth as they do squats and have to acknowledge that, yeah, they've all done alright by themselves)

em: funny montage of the gang doing exercise while surreptitiously taking Peaks

obsetress: omg all i want

obsetress:sometimes having friends as a lesbian means they're all your exes except one, who's your gf, and you're all checking each other out always anyway

em

And That’s Beautiful

obsetress

obsetress: dani: checking out viola's biceps, rebecca's abs

viola: checking out dani's thighs n ass

rebecca: minding her business

jamie: scowling n scrawny

obsetress:(n also checking out dani's thighs n ass, viola's biceps, and begrudgingly peeking at rebecca's abs)

obsetress: every other woman at the gym: checking out jamie, trying to figure out the entire dynamic here

are they a polycule? what

em: jamie probably like

em: maybe she gets really into running bc she just checks out and listens to her audiobooks but like

em: slow twitch vs fast twitch fibers so stays scrawny

obsetress: i can see that

obsetress: just gets on the treadmill and zones tf out

em: jamie ‘why don’t i have biceps’ taylor vs jamie ‘no u gotta lift w ur hips’ taylor

obsetress: she hates it but her psych told her it'll be good for her routine so you know she was like yes ma'am every day ma'am

em: cant believe safe lifting procedures screwed her over

em: ‘yes ma’am every day ma’am’ ur just Going for it arent ya anshdjdh

obsetress: sorry but don't tell me you can't hear it

obsetress: jamie's the person who takes notes in therapy

obsetress: jamie, in the locker room after their workout: do my biceps look bigger?

dani, patiently, already knowing where this is going: bigger than what, baby?

jamie: than yesterday

dani: mm, rome wasn't built in a day, you know

jamie: do they look bigger at all?

dani: well

em: i mean not to perceive her too much but mattresses scene indicates AE/jamie like. at least some muscle in the leg area

em: poor jamie

em: not playing to her strengths

obsetress: yeah she does

obsetress: i mean ae has toned af arms

obsetress: she's just wiry

em: how could i forget the benchpressing dog gif

obsetress: dani's like "jamie, baby, come do squats with me and vi" "m'good" "baby, c'mon, you'll like it" "don't wanna do squats" "it could be good for you" "don't wanna do squats with you two"

em: dani: you gotta like. eat more

jamie: i eat plenty

dani: no u graze all day and then u don’t eat dinner

obsetress: dani: five biscuits spread out across a day doesn't count as eating more

em: dani: protein jamie it’s abt protein

obsetress: dani: you need more protein, which is why i think some lentils would really––

em: jamie thinks protein shakes are Nasty

obsetress: jamie does think protein shakes are nasty but dani will make her a smoothie and sneak it in like she's a child

obsetress: viola and rebecca, with their matching monogrammed blender bottles, just staring

obsetress: becca's like "jamie, just drink it, really, it's fine"

obsetress: viola just does this haughty sniff at her and that's what finally gets jamie to start

em: jamie can deal w being a brat but the idea of viola having Anything over her drives her Insane

em: Drives Her Fuckign Nuts

obsetress: she hates it

obsetress: just the absolute fuckin worst

em: do u think dani ever like

em: like they REALLY need to clear out storage but it’s a boiling frog situation where it’s increased so gradually that

em: like jamie thinks it’s Fine storage is Clear Enough

em: it’s Not

em: danis like. should we invite rebecca and vi over

em: just be Idea of A Snide Viola Comment fills jamie w a burning rage

obsetress: oh my god

obsetress: i'm obsessed with this

obsetress: i would read a whole oneshot about this

em: eventually dani comes clean abt it n jamie thinks it’s v funny bc yknow; open and honest communication is a v important part of their dynamic

em: jamie: next time just tell me my storage looks like shite dani or i will be grumbling abt viola for a Week

obsetress: inevitably

obsetress: when they do have to come over to clean

obsetress: dani offers them takeout and wine ("step up from pizza and beer at least," jamie grumbles) and viola's like "jesus, dani, let's just go out to dinner. my treat"

obsetress: at dinner, viola's like "if you want more storage, i have some wonderful properties––"

obsetress: rebecca's mouthing "sorry" from next to her across the table

em: every time they go out rebecca takes vi aside n is like ok sweetheart so you promise you’re not gonna try convince them to sell the apartment again

em: and violas like (mock horror) of course i won’t. ye of little faith

em: and every time

em: every time she does

em: she’s tryna HELP

obsetress: she would too she'd be like

obsetress: "i'm just trying to HELP"

obsetress: "they're our FRIENDS"

em: i’m on a mission to figure out like

em: this is way way down the line

em: but i wanna believe eventually viola and jamie start to, at the v least, Tolerate each other

em: jamie might even be fond of the crazy bird but she’ll NEVER admit it

obsetress: god like vi's on business or some shit in like

obsetress: the UAE

obsetress: negotiating some Deal

obsetress: and so dani and jamie get dinner with just bex and they're driving home after and having a perfectly mundane conversation and then jamie's just blurting like

obsetress: "i think i miss vi"

em: she’s HORRIFIED

em: she tries to play it off as like um

em: she’s Too Comfortable

em: things are Too Boring

em: which is weird knowing everything we know abt jamie

em: but actually she just... maybe misses viola

em: danis like god i wish i was recording this

obsetress: jamie's passed out next to her at home later (it's ten pm) and dani's chattering happily away on the phone with vi (drinking a martini in her dubai hotel room at one am since, y'know, no bars) in bed right next to her

obsetress: "jamie, uh, said she misses you. i know. no, i KNOW. don't tell her i told you. yeah, yeah, you win, vi, we know. uh-huh. uh-huh. i'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that"

em: CUTE

em: u can’t lord it over her vi it’s a little secret

em: vi's like when have i EVER

em: she does

obsetress: once they're good again, dani and vi absolutely just. lose time (there's a metaphor in there) talking to each other still

em: this is wholesome tbh

em: i really like the damie stories where like

em: look it’s nice when damie have each other but it’s also nice when they have their own friends and stuff

em: dunno how to articulate that well

em: it’s a balance! it’s a balance

obsetress: yeah! exactly

obsetress: because that's part of the love n possession thing too yk

obsetress: not to say either of them would ever be like "no friends for you" but

obsetress: wanting to have a life outside of your partner yk

obsetress: they're meeting vi and rebecca for dinner after vi gets back and vi's just grinning and sweeping jamie into a hug "i heard you missed me"

em: she gets jamie a souvenir t-shirt

em: it’s too big

em: OR

em: child’s t-shirt

obsetress: (jamie sleeps in it that night)

obsetress: oh childs might be better

obsetress: she's like "you're a little scrawny, so..."

em: jamie sleeps in it.... soft bitch

em: she feels too much

obsetress: jamie taylor softest bitch

obsetress: dani watches her pull it on and raises an eyebrow and jamie's just like "wot"

em: jamies like (grumbles) i knew she was comin back i’m just

em: shouldn’t you be HAPPY about this development dani

em: ‘s’a gift... s’rude not t’....’

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: dani just grins "mmhm"

em: it accidentally makes its way into jamies workout clothes pile

obsetress: oh my GOD oh my god

obsetress: viola's shit eating GRIN when jamie shows up at the gym in it

em: jamies like fok

em: mental maths tryna figure if she wants to just. work out in a sports bra

em: she Doesn’t

obsetress: she Doesn't!

obsetress: (she's shy)

em: god it’s one of those shirts that’s like

em: someone who loves me went to UAE and got me this t-shirt or something

obsetress: dani corners her in their empty row in the locker room "you could've just taken it off, you know" "dunno, not everyone needs to... see that, you know?" "i'd certainly like to see it" jamie rolls her eyes but she's grinning "you can see that any time" "well maybe i wanted to see it during my workout" "dani......."

em: jamies embarrassed bc of her gnarly farmers tan means her tummy is at least five shades lighter than the rest of her

em: crisp tan lines

obsetress: god jamie's farmers tan

em: once again i am bringing my tan lines jamie agenda

obsetress: dani loves jamies dumb farmers tan so much

obsetress: she giggles

obsetress: but it's the most loving giggle possible

em: and then when she gets into running...

em: god when i was rowing there were a couple ppl w like what i called a neapolitan icecream tan which is

em: gimme a second

obsetress: jamie gets all huffy when dani giggles at her tan but then dani's like "baby, no, i think it's cute" and jamie gives her a look and dani grins mischievously and ducks her head

obsetress: and then she's licking and kissing and nipping her way along jamie's dumb tan lines

em: there it is

obsetress: it was inevitable

em: so caught up in the joy of jamies dumb farmer tans i forgot abt her gnarly scar she keeps under wraps

em: baby

em: the most baby

obsetress: baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

em: jamie decides the only way to claim the stupid t-shirt as hers is to cut off the sleeves

em: it’s abt the ritual of the thing

obsetress: she shows up at the gym wearing it and

obsetress: that's viola's "oh no she's hot" moment

em: YEAH BABY

obsetress: literally just like

obsetress: world stops

obsetress: viola stares

em: jamie finally gets to do an exercise that shows off her sinewy manual labor grip forearms

em: viola’s probably just as horrified to find jamie hot as every time jamies like oh no

em: violas hot

em: and once again jamie CANNOT know she’s hot bc she will be insufferable

em: she will be the Worst

obsetress: viola's tugging rebecca aside "why didn't you tell me jamie was hot" "what?" viola waves a hand and rebecca just furrows her brow a little and is like "that's just... what she looks like, vi"

obsetress: viola corners dani next "why didn't you tell me jamie was hot" "i did" "oh. right" viola pauses, then "why didn't you make sure i was listening?" dani just gives her a look and walks away

obsetress: dflksdjfldaj god the way jamie and viola are. the same

obsetress: kind of incredibly, in the same ways dani and rebecca are the same

em: “hey baby, did viola seem different today? seemed off”

em: jamies like. is she mad at me. did i break another social taboo.

em: rebecca ‘jamie looks like jamie’ jessel vs dani ‘my gf is so hot i can’t stand it’ clayton

obsetress: "i tell you how hot she is at least three times a week, vi"

em: danis tryna goad her into making the damn shirt a crop top

em: jamies like yeah but isn’t that a step too far. i feel like i am destroying this shirt too much

em: she does it anyway

em: so jamies workout clothes are danis endless grey baggy school t-shirts and this one ugly souvenir shirt that like

em: psychological warfare and she doesn’t even know it

obsetress: i would........ like to see it

obsetress: also crop top jamie is one of my favorite jamies

obsetress: she is severely underrated

em: crop top jamie is

obsetress: and we do not talk about her enough

em: jamie wear More crop tops

obsetress: viola and rebecca in bed, in matching facemasks, after going to the gym post-epiphany that Jamie Is Hot

obsetress: viola: are dani and jamie hotter than us?

rebecca: what?

obsetress: and like

obsetress: viola is NOT insecure

obsetress: she is constantly confident that she's the most attractive woman in the room at any given moment, but

obsetress: she's just so staggered by this realization

em: some neutral third party (ms grose and mr sharma probably) are like well. u guys definitely have a little more of a scary thing going on

em: i’m imagining rebecca and viola at brunch w hannah and owen v seriously discussing this

em: viola brings it up and rebecca GROANS but then she gets invested in the convo

obsetress: GOD yeah

obsetress: she's leaning forward and gesturing with her fork "when you say 'scary'..........."

em: owens like scary is a compliment

em: hannah grose sips her tea knowingly

obsetress: rebecca just narrows her eyes at hannah grose and hannah raises her eyebrows and shrugs

em: after a week or so viola bursts into a room w stupid big sunglasses and a tray of take out coffees and she’s like Don’t You Worry Jamie I Have Concluded You’re Hot But I’m Not Threatened By It

em: jamies like sorry WHAT

em: you’ve been thinking about WHAT

em: viola leaves without ever following it up

obsetress: dani is entirely unfazed

obsetress: doesn't even blink

em: danis like neat she remembered the oat milk

em: everyone in this au is insane

obsetress: any lesbian in 2021 is insane

obsetress: par for the course

em: was gonna protest but

em: Yeah

obsetress: this lesbian meme account i follow on insta is doing “stop asking who’s the top and who’s the bottom. start asking...” posts

obsetress: and one of them is “start asking who’s baby and who’s fuck around and find out” and it just makes me chuckle

obsetress: jamie taylor baby

obsetress: viola lloyd also baby

em: dani is baby passing and jamie is fuck around faking

obsetress: oh my god that’s why that’s why i think we cracked it

obsetress: dani (fuck around) dated jamie (baby) and vi (baby)

obsetress: rebecca (fuck around) dated jamie (baby) and vi (baby)

obsetress: the reason they could never cross further even tho per the transitive property dani (so similar to vi) should be able to date beccs and jamie (so similar to beccs) should be able to date vi is because

obsetress: you can’t have two babies and two fuck arounds in a relationship together

em: oh of course. i see. i see

em: however in the rare rare crack ship of the ‘jamie viola hatefuck’ a similar phenomenon to ‘social anxiety mum friend ordering food’ instinct takes over and someone fucks around and finds out

em: this is just my unhinged jamie viola hatefuck bulkshit which is. it’s ironic ok it’s ironic it’s ironic it’s

em: ok one last thought bc i know it’s super late for u but

obsetress: omg i also have a last thought let’s trade

em: what if mikey is about isabels age n jamie ends up looking after him for one reason or another for a bit

em: and viola absolutely Dotes on him

obsetress: omg

obsetress: that’s what does it. jamie seeing viola w mikey

em: grumble grumble i guess she’s not that bad

em: except then she’s like god what if mikey likes her MORE than me

obsetress: “dani what if mikey gets one of those weird first crushes on vi”

obsetress: dani doesn’t even look up from the laundry “who hasn’t had a crush on vi”

obsetress: jamie’s like “mE” and dani just gives her the most withering look

em: danis like It’s Par For The Course Jamie

em: danis a teacher she’s like it happens don’t sweat it

em: anyway

em: what was. what was ur last little thought

obsetress: i was just thinking more about viola also baby and how also she’s been so privileged her whole life that sometimes there are just some things she can’t do for herself because she just doesn’t know how

obsetress: like she’s never had to learn

em: rebecca gets um

em: freeze dried coffee

em: nescafé

obsetress: but like

obsetress: rebecca genuinely loves taking care of vi for whatever reason (it’s because she loves her) when she really needs it but

obsetress: rebecca also takes no shit and is like “i’m not making the nescafé for you. you’re 36 years old, vi, you need to learn to do it for yourself”

obsetress: and she’ll stand there and watch her do it and then she makes vi do it at least three more times for posterity

obsetress: “i’ll make a plebeian of you yet, viola lloyd”

obsetress: (god only the two of them would think a line like that is funny)

#this one's fucken LONG!!!!!!!! #the dani jamie viola rebecca exes au

[dpargyle]

Radio Free Lucy: Episode #1: Out from the Wardrobe Transcript

[RADIO ARGYLE INTRO STING - This 5 & a half second sting involves: the fumbling of a needle onto vinyl, the low murmur of vinyl crackle, what sounds like some sort of scifi engine ramping up, the rumble of thunder paired with a distinct sonar blip - then finally - a high-pitched female youth with a British accent (filtered through the subtle distortion of a phone/radio line) saying “Radio Argyle”]

[Lead In Background Music FADES IN: It’s playing soft & low in background as lead in rolls on. Lead In Music - it’s “Arrival” by How the Night Came - an upbeat, brief, acoustic guitar piece]

[Podcast VO - Lucy. A youthful female British voice]

Welcome! You lovely lunatics & worthwhile weirdos! This! is Radio Free Lucy.

[Lead In Music FADES OUT.]

[Episode Background Music 1 FADES IN: - it’s “Fluidscape” by Kevin MacLeod, which serves as a slightly hopeful, slightly ambient underhum for the piece.]

Episode One: Out from the Wardrobe

~

Hi.

I’m not sure how to say any of this out loud, yet. This Radio Argyle Bot player, which is a modified text to speech robot voice, will serve my purposes best. She’ll be clearer than my, actual, garbled disabled, boy, voice. Anyway, here goes. This isn’t going to come out perfectly, sequentially, or even logically, but I hope it’ll come out, me.

This isn’t a persuasive essay. You’ll either listen, & at least try to understand, or you won’t. I know a lot of what I say may be shocking, & it’ll definitely take some time to adjust to, even for me, but all I’m asking, is that you try.

This is more a memoir, or a prose poem. & poetry is flowers. Beautiful. But they can, & they will, cut you with their sharp pointy thorns. Truth, like the gods, can be a fickle bitch. She can hurt you. So please, be patient with me, while I bleed here before you, for a bit. I also ask that you make yourself comfortable, & listen to this in a safe space, away from prying ears.

Thank you.

While my primary purpose here will be to explain to, you, what’s truly been going on, with me, I think it will also be very helpful for me, to explain to, myself, what’s been going on with me. In as concise & as clear a manner, as I possibly can. Conciseness, however, has never really been my strong suit.

So you might as well buckle up, buttercups. Shit gets heavy from here.

*

I’ve always had a pretty contentious relationship with my body. When you drive a wheelchair, essentially as big as a Warhammer forty k mech, into the first day of suburban kindergarten, you realize pretty quickly, you’ll always be set apart. Not only in all, Their minds, but also always in, your own mind, as well. This isolation has lasted my whole life, & increasingly in my adulthood. Please understand, I don’t blame anyone. It’s just been a fact of my life. Family has been a boon, but family can’t, & shouldn’t be, my entire social circle.

The thing is, this isolation isn’t merely social. It’s mobility wise. If something is off my local light rail line, I simply can’t get to it, without extensive help. It’s logistics-wise. If people want to hang out at night, which let’s be honest, that’s when most people are available, I can’t participate due to having people who take care of me working at specific schedules & times, which means I have to get in bed way before any fun parties, even think, about ramping up. Not that I’m much of a partier, but perhaps there’s a reason for that. & now I’m too old for any of that shit, anyway!

This segregation. yes, segregation! Has also affected my career prospects, which I won’t get into here, as I no longer dream of labor. Just know that I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to make any sort of consistent money in this life, even after graduating college, & jumping through all the world’s nonsensical hoops, & playing along with their games, which have all been rigged from the start. In the end, though, I’ve always wanted to earn my way through my creative endeavors alone, so that’s why I’ve been working so hard on my podcasts lately. I don’t know how much I can earn from them, but I’m giving it my best go.

More painfully, the world’s reaction to my disability has deeply affected my romantic prospects, too. Not just because a lot of people refuse to even see me as a sexual being, or are repulsed by my disabled monstrousness, or whatever, but because, even if I did happen to meet a girl who reciprocated any kind of romantic slash sexual feelings, if we did get married, the bastard government would slash my healthcare entirely, immediately rendering me completely financially dependent in that relationship. I’m not saying monogamous marriage is the only valid endpoint to any successful romantic relationship, but these cobwebbed bureaucracies, running all our lives like great evil capitalist elder squids, have severely limited my choices in life. I’m not even legally allowed to save up more than two thousand dollars in my own bank account, before they start slashing my funds. I have, increasingly, felt as if my life is not my own.

So if I ever do get married, it will be an elopement & the government will be none the wiser. I have no use for illegitimate certificates from the, equally, illegitimate Powers That Be, anyway. The holy union will be between myself, the woman in question, & the gods, alone. Though these days I’m beginning to realize, a polyamorous situation, like a polycule, or a commune, or something, would be healthier & a stronger support network for someone in my situation. We were always meant to live communally. It’s what our noble ancestors once did. Hashtag every day we stray further…

Anyway…

I am getting slightly off topic. What I’m trying to illustrate with these examples is how the world, & my experience within it, have severely affected how I see my body, & how I see myself as a person with any value to give, in, that body. It’s hard not to start feeling a little bit like Quasimodo, thrust high up in the bell tower, shunned from all the realms of mortal men, after a while.

My whole life, I’ve tried to make the best of it. I survived by carving a distinction, in my head, between my mind & my body. I saw myself. & then I saw my body. They were always these two bifurcated things. Weirdly, I always saw my mind as sort of like those hilarious detached floating Presidential heads from Futurama. I found my worth, not in my two headed boy, circus freak in a jar body, but in my mind. I was a brain, & nothing more. I was my words. My wit. My passions. My epic, ineffable, nerdery. I could rely on that. I could never rely on my Judas body. I hated it. I still do.

I’ve never told anyone this, but back when my babby sister was born, when I was fifteen, I remember so vividly the first time I saw her precious face. I remember the moment like it was yesterday, because, well, obviously, because it was the first time I met this person who I knew, even back then, was immediately one of the most important people in my life, but also because, I remember the first thought I had when I gazed upon, the infinite galaxies of her kaleidoscope eyes. “How could anyone so beautiful, be related to me?”

I hated myself for thinking this, because it was otherwise this transcendental, celebratory, jubilant moment, & I had to go & make it all about me, at least in my head. So I never told anyone about it. I just let my self-hatred fester. I pushed it down. I endured. As men are expected to do. Stiff upper lip, always look on the bright side of life, etcetera etcetera.

I built this happy, plucky, go get ‘em! persona, who doesn’t want, nor need, the finer things in life. The finer things, like happiness, non-digital community, & self-actualization. I don’t remember the last time I was happy. Maybe it was back in college, but even then, I struggled mightily. I’ve suffocated myself so long, I’ve forgotten how to breathe. But sometimes, even drowning folk get sick of being wet!

I don’t tell you all this so you can pity me, or feel guilty about not seeing this, because first of all, I’m a phenomenal actor, & a seasoned liar, so how could you possibly know what lay beneath? Pity & guilt are pretty useless, in my experience, in any case. I tell you all this, so you can truly understand where I’m coming from.

Life is too short to keep concealing the things I really want. The things I really need. The things I really am.

For the last several years, with increasing intensity, urgency, excitement, curiosity, &, ultimately, hope, I’ve begun to realize some things about myself. Well, one thing about myself, really.

Holy shit, time to be brave, for once.

[Lucy inhales FX]

Sometimes. OK. a lot of the time. I wish I was a girl. A woman.

The yearnings began to coalesce six years ago, when I was. Uh. You know. fantasizing, as one does, & suddenly I was imagining myself as a girl. It scared the ever, loving, shit, out of me. I immediately stopped.

It scared me so much, because…

I liked it.

The thought excited me. In this fantasy, I was still disabled. But I was desirable! Girl me finally felt, OK, in my body. I was happy in my body! I could celebrate my body! It felt like coming up for air. It felt like freedom. Like some sort of, & forgive my nerdy metaphors, they are all I have, Pacific Rim mech pilots style, drift compatibility. At long last, both my body & my mind hooked together seamlessly. But it was just a dream, right? A fantasy? A fetish! I’ve felt so few moments of, genuine, freedom in my life, I instinctively crawled back to my comfortable, miserable, corner.

I tried to push it out of my mind. It wasn’t real if I didn’t think about it, right?. Denial has kept fossilized empires running, simply on calcified inertia, for hundreds of years! I could do that in the comparatively short amount of time I had left on this dumb rock, right? But my denial couldn’t last. I couldn’t just put these intrusive thoughts out of my mind that simply.

I tried to tell myself I was just a creep. Some sort of pervert with a fetish. I was appropriating trans girls’ experiences, & obviously making light, of very real, incredibly terrifying, hardships they go through in this world. I’ve done a lot of research & soul searching since then, but back then I still believed the lie, in order to be trans, you absolutely had to have had gender dysphoria as a kid. & I didn’t think I had. But upon further reflection, I realize I’ve had dysphoria, my whole life. I just thought all these feelings were what being alive felt like, for everyone!

I grew up in an Evangelical Christian household, so I was incredibly sheltered as a kid. I didn’t even know trans folk could even be a thing! until I was 21, & in college & literally face to face with a friend, who got called a name of a different gender they no longer went by. I asked them, “why did that person just call you by that name?” & they graciously explained they were trans, & that they had just been ‘dead named,’ as the community calls it. In retrospect, they were being incredibly generous with me, considering the mental violence. yes, violence, which had just been wrought upon them, right before my eyes.

As you can probably imagine, that conversation blew. My. Freaking. Mind. It was like some scifi crap – like the trill symbionts from Star Trek Deep Space Nine, etcetera, who always made my mind go brrr, but in a very good way, back when I couldn’t quite verbalize, or even admit to myself in my own mind, why even the thought of them made me feel. A certain something I didn’t even have words for, at the time.

But talking to this trans person was in the actual, flesh & blood, realm! I knew about Drag Queens, & cross dressers, thanks to that dusty library copy of, Rocky Horror Picture Show, my brother & I hid from our parents, which I only vaguely understood anyway, but changing your actual, GENDER? In real life? Wizard shit!

At the time of this college era conversation, I was still drowning in Evangelicalism, Patriarchy, chauvinism. all of the things, but despite all this, I remember this moment so vividly too. Because my friend, who had just been violently dead named, was leaning across the table from me, being honest with me, open with me, almost begging me to accept them, & I realized right there, right then. This was a human fucking being. & even though my mind had just been BLOWN, & I was still HIGHLY CONFUSED, & terrifyingly curious, I could be a cowardly dickhead, or I could follow the path of love. True love, not White Jesus Love, (TM). & that night? That night, I chose love. & I’m so freaking glad I did.

Looking back on it, this moment turned out to be one of the first bricks I tore down in the Tower of Babel, that had been my Evangelical Faith. I was still a sexist, phobic, (of everything!), clown at the time. I still had a lot of deep character building & reworking to do, far down within my soul. I still do. I always will. Self-improvement is a life-long, internal battle. but this became one of the first steps.

Which have led me all the way to here. Staring down into the chasm of femininity. I am scared, but determined. I am leaning across the table from you, but I will not beg for your acceptance. I’ll have it or I won’t. & we’ll just have to live with that, won’t we?

I still posture, at least somewhat, masculine. I still often get my head shaved, down to the skull, like I’m going off to war. Because, living in my body has often felt like a war, to be quite honest. So I try to be masculine. No frills. Surgical. Spartan. Because I’ve been terrified if I grow my hair any longer, people will, know. My judging parents will, know. The true believers in this red as a rash state will, know. & what if they all, knew, the truth?

Would they hate me?

Would they hate me if they knew, I yearn to grow my hair out long, & dye it blonde, or pink, or blonde & pink, like a total badass? Would they turn their heads in shame if I wore cute makeup & sweaters, & not wear the same scruffy football hoodie & T-shirt combo I’ve been wearing, every day, since I was fifteen?

Truth be told, I hate wearing men’s clothing. I’ve always hated it. Especially male dress up clothes. The jacket & tie? The monkey suit you wear, for getting choked by the noose of always looking like every other mediocre asshole dying, a little more each day, in some dark dungeon of a cubicle?

I don't want to be mediocre anymore. I want to be. fucking. spectacular.

Look. I know how hard it is in this society for disabled people to be seen as sexy. As desirable. Clothes never fit right because they are often not made for us. They’re always cockeyed, or ruffled, or simply utilitarian. But damn it! I want to be sexy! I want to be desirable! I want to be lovely! Not just for other pretty girls, (though for them too, obviously!), but for me. For my confidence. For my self-worth. For my fulfillment, & happiness.

I no longer seek the dullness of masculine sexiness, either. Muscles, in my honest opinion, are wasted on dudes. I don’t want to wear anything with lots of buttons, either. I never have. My hands aren’t great at working them, anyway. For the last few years, I’ve made a whole index of feminine clothes I like the look of on Tumblr. I want to wear girly jeans, skirts, dresses, & on, & on. I want to experiment with jewelry & makeup & nail polish.

I don't want to live in a box anymore. I want to live in a curve. I want to, be, the curve. I want to be the fire, & the twinkling lights &, the hair on the wind, & the giggle on the grass. I don't want my stupid testosterone holding back my tears. I want to weep, & laugh, & LIVE! I know it sounds like I want to become a manic pixie dream girl, or something. But. Like. Why the hell not? Girls can be whoever the hell they want to be!

I’m tired of sublimating everything. I’m tired of holding back what I mean. Holding back who I really am. I’m done with the mask. Give me the cape, & the show. Give me the whole damn theater, & I’ll light up the world.

Though, look, just because I want to be more femme, does not mean I want to immediately, if ever, wear pink layer cake dresses like I just stepped off the carriage from Versailles, or somewhere. A lot of this is going to be an adjustment period. For everyone. I still love a lot of traditionally masculine things. For example, I’ll always love my Packers. (That’s the Green Bay Packers, who play American football, by the way, for those who thought I may have been referring to the, other, kind of packers, trans masculine folk sometimes use.) Again, I want to reiterate. I’m still going to be me. Just new & improved.

Over the last few years, I’ve also come to realize I’m not, entirely, alienated from my body. In fact, there’s parts of my body I’ve always had affection for. I’ve spent the last twenty nine years, (since I was three), sat in a wheelchair every day, eight to twelve hours a day. As a result of this, my growth has been stunted. So, I'm five feet nothing basically. To be honest, I've always liked being short.

Also due to my disability, (but probably also as a result of my genetics), I have small, delicate hands & feet. I've always loved them, too. I've often been complimented on my feminine eyelashes, & my thick hair, (usually by jealous girls), & my hair grows faster than a chia pet! I’ve liked those aspects of my physical body.

I understand to be femme, & or feminine, you don't need to have any of these attributes. That would make a boring ass world, no doubt. These are just, 'traditionally,' feminine attributes. & the parts of myself I've always liked, are, in fact, girly. Again, in the, 'traditional,' sense of the word. I am, of course, qualifying all this, however, due to thirty two years of drowning in patriarchy, & beauty standards, & racism, & fatphobia, & just a whole bunch of nonsense. That's all bull, obviously. Femme is whatever we make of it.

Along with preferring these, more, traditionally, feminine, aspects of my physical body, I have also always preferred the company of women in general. I always felt more comfortable with them. Not just because of my attraction to them, but because I’ve never found their presence anywhere near as exhausting, or demanding, as the presence of men, at least in large groups. Perhaps this is a biased assessment, & the only reason I feel this way is because women, & girls, have always clocked me as male, & therefore never involved me in the infamous vicious backbiting, of their group politics.

Even so, women, on the whole, have always seemed, softer, to me, in every way. With men, especially in groups, there’s always this endless jostling, this never ending posturing! There can never be two male lions in the pride, two tigers in the cage. You must always, always! PROVE YOURSELF! & FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT to assert dominance. What a weary way of life. Meanwhile, I always just wanted to talk, & laugh, & hug, & be affectionate, & be myself. I suppose I was yearning for something I could neither have, nor ever, be, as a man.

The way in which I have always related to women, I realize now, has often been in a quite feminine way. I’ve always like girls. I’ve always, loved, girls. I had my first crush when I was five. At least on a non-fictional girl, anyway. (More on my first fictional crush, which occured even earlier, if you can believe it, a bit further along in this mini manifesto.)

I was fascinated with girls. Obsessed, with them. Enthralled, by them! Not just because I found them pretty, or beautiful, or captivating, though there was always these aspects to it all, humming hungrily in the background, but I hungered for other things I saw in them, too. Subtler things. The way girls moved through the world. What soft, heavenly, potent, magic! I wished I had even one ounce of their fairy dust. It was, & is still, intoxicating.

I didn’t always dream of making love to them, though there was quite a bit of that, admittedly. I yearned for them in less carnal ways, as well. For their companionship. Love. Trust. Affection. I was always entranced by the ways in which they navigated the world. With a dignity & strength men could never hope to match. (They don’t have, THE RANGE!) & then when women put on ARMOR? Holy shit, HEART EYES! It was like, they were almost, underdogs, in the patriarchy.

As a disabled kid, I knew what it was to be an underdog. I saw me in them, & them in me. I'm not saying being disabled & a woman are equivalent in this society, they are most certainly not, obviously. But I could, sympathize, with being seen as less capable than I actually was. Still can. Every day of my life.

Also, from my teenager hood all the way up through my long & lonely years, I had this very irritating habit of falling in love with sapphics. Which is, to be honest, kind of devastating, when you are under the impression you are a dude. But once you realize you certainly are, not, a dude, things begin to really click into place for this aspect of your sexuality. I kept crushing on lesbians & the like, because I, am, one!

Duh!

Speaking of sexuality, & please bear with me if this makes you uncomfortable, I’ve been realizing I have always, actually, related to my sexuality, & therefore my body, in a feminine manner. I’ve never really been interested in pornography, or other titillation, which panders to the assumed male gaze. This genre of cinema’s incessant focus on men’s pleasure bores the hell out of me, to be quite frank. But show me genuine female pleasure, or erotica focused on feminine sexuality, especially if the arousal is conjured by another woman, & I am, all about, that good time. Not in the leering sort of way, either, like, “oooo look, two girls making out, that’s, soooo, hot!” I never imagined myself watching them. I always imagine myself, being, them.

Lately, I’ve even come to accept that I long to relate, & indeed do, now, relate to sex, as a woman. The thought of having sex as a man, with male parts, doesn’t hold as much interest, excitement, or fulfillment, for me, as the thought of making love as a woman, with female parts. It’s the difference between machine-like mechanics, & almost, animalistic, apotheosis. I don’t know how I’ll ever get there. But I will.

OK, the really sexy times confession session is over. Apologies if I over shared there, but I felt it was necessary. If not for you, then certainly for me, in my quest to become more honest with myself.

I’m a writer, & a lover of stories, so I find a lot of solace, strength, & truth in fiction. The deep lore, the myths, the characters. They all matter. So much. Long past the moment the poets who wrote them, turned, to dust. So that’s why I’ve chosen a name for myself, straight out of fiction.

A brave girl who believed.

Queen Lucy the Valiant.

The character who has always been closest to my heart, & who always will be.

Now. Look. I know she comes out of C S Lewis, & The Chronicles of Narnia, & therefore there is, A LOT, of baggage wrapped up in all that. The particular flavor of Christianity, forever entangled with the narrative & thematics. My boy Clive’s, GAPING, blind spots, specifically when it came to the portrayal of a faux Islamic world, or girls & women, particularly at the time he wrote those books. But. Look. I have a lot of baggage too. These are still my roots.

Narnia were the first books I read when I was three. Or listened to the abridged audio versions, anyway. The first fictional character I ever fell hard for? Lucy Pevensie. I told you. I’ve always, loved, girls. The first fictional character I aspired to be like? Lucy. Not because she was a warrior. But because she was still the bravest, despite being the littlest. Perhaps, because, she was the littlest.

[Episode Background Music 1 (MacLeod’s “Fluidscape”) FADES OUT.]

[Lead Out Music (Instrumental) FADES IN.]

She was always the best of them. Lucy believed when the others could not. Would not. She was the first to go to Narnia. She had seen the next world, & it was nothing short, of spectacular. Lucy believed in its wonders. In its endless promises. Lucy had hope. Sure, it was all meant as some sort of stilted Christian allegory. But I’m taking what I want, & leaving the rest. Because, I believe her story speaks to something universal. Lucy believed in, a BETTER, world. A BETTER, tomorrow. The name ‘Lucy,’ originally meant, ‘as of light,’ or, ‘born at daylight, or the dawn.’ She is the light bringer. & that’s who I aspire to be. The girl full of hope. Belief. Faith. Maybe not in any single church, or doctrine, but in love. In that, BETTER, tomorrow.

So here’s me. Rolling out from the darkness of my old wardrobe.

Lucy.

I’ve been terrified to talk about all this for the past several years, as I already feel like a burden, with all my disability stuff, & then I lost my job, & then the pandemic happened, & then, & then.

But I can’t live as I was living. Not anymore. I hope you can understand that.

I still don’t know how any of this will work. How my future will look. How I’ll figure out how to scrape the money together, on my own, I won’t be asking for any money for any of this, to transition in a safe manner, with all my other medical crap. I don’t know how my caregivers, throughout my life, will react. I don’t know how, anyone, will react. All I can control, right now, is myself, & how I need to be, myself.

My babby sister came out as bi this year, at least to the immediate family, & her self-assurance, & joy, have given me hope. I want to learn how to be brave like that again. Like my sister, before me.

Like Lucy.

~

[Episode Lead Out Music FADES IN: - playing soft & low in background as lead out rolls on. Lead Out Music - first the instrumental & then the vocal versions of Josh Woodward’s “Words Fall Apart” - which is a piano piece - almost a lullaby - featuring the following words:

“We're here at the start, where the words fall apart

Where language is lost in the wind

The syllables sway, in an ancient ballet

The meaningless sounds that we sing

Sleep, baby, sleep, baby

Sleep till the feeling is gone

Sleep, baby, sleep, baby

Everything's new in the dawn

The faces and sounds, where the truth goes to drown

In the deepest expanse of the sea

Our dreams and our hopes are concealed in codes

And no one would dare hold the key

Sleep, baby, sleep, baby

Sleep till the feeling is gone

Sleep, baby, sleep, baby

Everything's new in the dawn

Everything's new in the dawn”]

Lucy VO: Radio Free Lucy, is written by, Lucy Argyle, & performed by Lucy, a Radio Argyle Bot Player. Join Radio Argyle’s Patreon at patreon dot com slash Radio Argyle. All one word.

Music in this episode included “Arrival” by How the Night Came. Find their music at the Free Music Archive.“Fluidscape,” by Kevin MacLeod. You can find their music at Incompetech dot com. &, both the instrumental & lyrical versions of Josh Woodward’s “Words Fall Apart”. You can find their music at the Free Music Archive, Spotify, iTunes, Google Play, etcetera.

Other episode credits, as well as free transcripts for the show, are available on my Tumblr, where my user name is Radio Free Lucy. Also all one word. Simply search the hashtag Radio Free Lucy on my blog there & you’ll find them.

I’ll be back. Soon! Until then, I send you all, my love & strength. Take care, you lovely lunatics, & worthwhile weirdos.

[Lead Out Music eventually FADES OUT.]

[RADIO ARGYLE OUTRO STING - This 7 second sting involves the intro sting, mostly in reverse: the scifi engine powering down, the high-pitched British girl saying “Radio Argyle” - and then the needle fumbling off the vinyl - into radio silence…]

EPISODE CREDITS:

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(patreon.com/radioargyle)

Muse Tier Patrons:

A.W. Glen

Lindsay

Lottie

Music (All Edited):

“Arrival” by How the Night Came. Find their music at the Free Music Archive.

“Fluidscape” by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100393

Artist: http://incompetech.com/

“Words Fall Apart” (Lyrical & Instrumental Versions) by Josh Woodward: https://freemusicarchive.org/music/Josh_Woodward/Addressed_to_the_Stars_1995

Sound FX (All Edited):

“45rpm needle drop” by FreqMan: https://freesound.org/people/FreqMan/sounds/42819/. Courtesy of Freesound.

“Girl, female, inhale, exhale, sigh, breathing” by SpliceSound: https://freesound.org/people/SpliceSound/sounds/218309/. Courtesy of Freesound.

Podcast (& Ephemera) created with:

Scrivener

Microsoft PowerPoint

Audacity

LMMS

Screenpresso (Free)

Sketchbook Pro

Affinity Suite

Aseprite

FreeSound

Free Music Archive

VoiceMaker

VoiceChanger

Mannequin

#radio free lucy