#help me make art more because like a good third of my summer spring AND FALL are dedicated to mowing my fucking grass

[dyrdeer]

i could write a novel about how fucked up lawn culture in the US is, but its not an individual's problem (nothing ever is). If I didn't have to cut the grass I wouldn't, they dutifully send workers out to make sure you cut your grass under penalty of up to 300+ dollars here. Doesn't matter if you're disabled or poor or just don't have the time. Doesn't matter that you weren't responsible for planting invasive grass that grows longer than the government deems "safe". They'll tell you to mow it to keep ticks away but don't care about all the other native species and pollinators that it also displaces. They ignore you if you point out all the publicly owned land thats overgrown because they can't make money from forcing themselves to mow. Its not about safety, its about hegemony, aesthetics, and oppression of poor/disabled people. In my opinion, as well as others', we need to move towards killing our lawns and replacing this shit with native flowers and plants - however a lot of these personal pollinator gardens are cut down by the city as well because most grow over 9 inches. We need to make a huge, sustained push to not have to mow our lawns and im not fucking kidding

[mika-0730]

prime numbers multiplied by 2, then subtract 1 :3

KBSOHSKBIBKEV THIS WAS SO MUCH MATH YOU KNEW I WAS HIGH I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D DO THIS TO ME T~T

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of?

I'm not exactly a movie person, but maybe the Lord of the rings extended edition?

5. what made you start your blog?

My first blog was because of my college freshman art class lmao

My second was to break away from a fanbase i hated and to distance myself from my ex

9. tell a story about your childhood

Uhh i don't have a lot of good stories so let's go with the time my cat turned off my Xbox in the middle of a left for dead 2 run

13. what are you doing right now?

Being very high hanging outside

21. are you a spiritual person?

Not currently, too much religious trauma. Maybe in the future, probably not

25. fave season and why?

Hmmmm I'll go fall. Cool temperatures, pretty color trees, Halloween, and not a lot of snow (pretty but i can't shovel with injuries so winter is a close second, spring a close third, summer far away)

33. any hobbies?

None at the moment, kind of burned out from everything. I like tinkering, making computers and servers, drawing, listening to music, and reading Manga/watching anime when i do have energy

37. share a secret

In a lighter one, i currently sleep with an otter i got from the Chicago aquarium and a blahaj a dear friend gave me, alternating cuddling them pretty tightly through the night and it's somewhat helped with nightmares

In a not good one, below the read more around gacha

In my "I'm desperately hanging on" stage i spent waaaaaay too much on gacha games. To the tune of minimum 3K USD if I'm being generous, probably closer to 5K. I remember one night I'm particular I probably spent 1k on a single character. I was trying to survive the Texas winter snowstorm in 2021 and our house lost water, Internet, and heating for like a week and a half, it was baaaaaaad

[looosey]

Lucy's Main Quest #3: "Hey, shouldn't you be trying harder?"

So... You might've guessed by my last Main Quest post, but final grades came out for my sophomore spring and I didn't do that well. And... I was like disappointed but not surprised, because although I am delusional, I can also work myself up to reality. I.e. although I saw I got like a 30% on that 046 final, I was expecting at least a B, but then again, I can't recall or name most of the topics covered in the last third of the class, so it makes sense I got a C.

Well, there's someone else who isn't happy about these grades that is not me. It's my mom. Yeah, @budumtssss we're going a step further from, it's all the dance you've been doing, to... how can you take TWO classes and not get Bs (and a whole bunch of repetitive nagging getting real close to direct criticism). And so I got upset, and was like let me figure this out, you're not helping. And then she was upset--she says she should have the right to nagging as a mother without me being upset. In general, the nagging seems like more for her, and her need to feel important as a mother, and for her longterm financial stability than it is for me. But still:

"Shouldn't you try harder to get good grades now that you've been goofing off for three years?"

Damn. It hurt. But it also objectively does bring up an interesting idea that I need to figure out: do I need to try harder in school, and why?

Part I: No

To preface, I will shine some light to my journey leading up to now. "Work hard as a means to open more doors in life" is the no-brainer philosophy I lived by throughout high school. Once I arrived at MIT, I tried hard in classes and got the grades, but had a really depressing first semester, and a slightly less depressing second semester. It was exhausting, living such a "default" lifestyle: by "default" thinking about school, watching the clock as I ate, looking at unanswerable pset questions and thus having to pset with people I could not carry a normal conversation with, and otherwise be surrounded by strangers all the time. It was unsustainable, and made me hate my life and the school.

So, after some thinking this summer, I decided I would care less about grades. I took hip-hop dance theory and screenwriting. I worked on freestyle dance in my free time, really investing time and effort in it, and pursued this small funny Italian dream. I became better friends with y'all. I participated in clubs like KCA, mince, and MissB. I applied to rap class. In my application to CMS.S60 Rap Theory and Practice, I wrote:

"At the moment, the artist/creative is someone I respect more than the stellar student. So even at MIT, I write my own short-films, draw, choreograph dance, and think about satisfying videos I want to film in the future. All in all, I really appreciate that art shares a vision/interpretation of the world, giving it value."

This is my truth.

Yes, there is a parallel universe where I could be giving my all into understanding algorithms, and I am confident I could get an A in that class. I think my mom in particular was struck by this when I said this to her but I think she must've stopped listening here. The second half of this story is: I did not choose that universe. I study hard with curiosity and interest, but not to the extra levels I know is needed to secure a high grade in any class.

Yet maybe because of this choice, now I am living life to a fullness that I am proud of. This was the first year of my 15 years of schooling, where I was not an A student, and I've experienced soo soo many more parts of MIT, Boston, and delayed young adult life because of this: like grocery shopping and cooking to survive, working jobs, being bad at something, getting good at something unproductive, being pursued and rejected, on dates in general, finding my likes and dislikes in people again. Yes, I am figuring out what it is I want to pour my efforts into.

If Richard Feynman was my role model figure in high school, I draw inspiration from artists like Tyler the Creator now. Which is interesting: both geniuses, irreverent, cocky, and pushed their fields forward. This summer will be a research opportunity for me to figure out how closely I want to mimic the path of either the academic or the artist. In general, this lifestyle is necessary for my happiness and my continued journey in finding who I am in college.

Part II: Yes

"You keep it all bottled up that's why your life dry while mine wet / I study hard at school to keep my sisters and my mom fed." - Amari, suffolk county water (Nomadic Seoul EP)

Um... so exaggeration or not? My family as it stands right now, is doing okay financially. However, as some of y'all can guess, there are some ticking time bombs, or random variables, that make the system unstable. So, for now, let's just say there is some weight on my shoulders to make a decent salary after MIT, to share support wherever the pieces lie in a couple years. I think that might be a major part of my mom's worry as well, which is lowkey fair, because I used it in my rap lyrics so I should walk the talk.

The assumptions here are that a good GPA and a promising student at MIT will get hired by a tech company and keeps all those doors of opportunities open for me in the future. This route is tried-and-true. Whether you do it for the family or for yourself. The soul-searching can be done in a more BALANCED fashion--besides, you can move anywhere once you are at the top of the ladder.

Besides, my goal being Netfllix is as basic as any other company in recruitment: like they want a spiky developer, someone who's good at developing, not a creative mediocre programmer. They'll filter me by GPA if I don't have anything to show for myself. Ain't that crazy?

So studying harder. Yes. There are some sacrifices yes, like sleep, improvement in dance and rap, social life, but in return is capability and delayed opportunity.

Part III: Maybe

Anyways to wrap up this post: I will figure this out this summer. I just know I like my life a little fast-paced. I need to move forward with more of a plan/vision and the confidence to execute it either way.

Before my mom even brought it up I thought to myself this is probably now where I get better grades anyway. But I don't care about keeping all doors open: I live fully and intentionally such that I know which doors I want to close and not worry about. If I choose to spend my time pursuing something hard, I just hope I thought about why I'm doing it and why I chose it in particular. I agree bottomline that I need to work on my systematicness/thoroughness/work ethic in doing even what I like.

This is just what's on my mind right now. So thanks for reading it through if you did. Toodloo.

[helloalycia]

The Wrong Lifetime – Eight // Wanda Maximoff

chapter seven | story masterlist | main masterlist | wattpad | chapter nine

author’s note: Y/C/N = your cousin’s name, also this is later than I wanted today but i’ve been super busy so sorry for that! Also, I’ll be responding to comments from the last one as soon as I’m free. Enjoy 😊

"...okay, so now use the water to dilute the colour."

I did as Wanda said, dipping my brush in the glass of water and diluting the watercolour I was using, but I must have used too much because it made the paint run and then the paper started to get too damp to hold together.

Wanda facepalmed, sighing as I smiled sheepishly.

"My bad...?"

She glared playfully before ripping a page from her sketchbook. "Try again, milaya (darling). And use less water this time."

I squinted in the sun as I glanced at her. "Can't you just accept I'm not very good at painting? Or art in general?"

She shook her head, taking the torn page from my grasp and replacing it with a new one. "No way. You're not getting out of it that easily. It's not hard, I promise!"

I groaned lightheartedly. "You said that about drawing. And about using acrylics. And about using chalk."

"And I'm saying it about this, now c'mon, try again," she encouraged with an amused smile before returning to her own painting.

We were sat in my garden, hanging out and making the most of the lovely day we were having. The Spring breeze was getting warmer as we transitioned into Summer and it was a nice change of pace from the usual bad weather we had. So nice that Wanda wanted to do some painting and also teach me how to. But art was never my strong suit and I'm sure she knew that but still proceeded to try anyway.

Sketching out the tree before us for the third time today, I attempted to provide an outline that I could eventually fill in with green watercolours. Unlike Wanda though, it wasn't fun. My eyes veered over to her and I smiled to myself as I admired the look of concentration on her face – her 'art' look, I dubbed it. It was this very specific expression she got whenever she worked on a painting or drawing, and it always reminded me of that first time I saw it, after we met in the stationary store and when she took me back to her room. Absolutely wonderful.

"I don't hear a pencil moving," she said, not looking up but beginning to smile.

"That's because I'm looking for... what did you call it?" I racked my brain, thinking back to the day in the store when she talked about inspiration. "Vdokhoventi?"

A sharp exhale escaped her lips as she finally lifted her gaze to meet mine. Attempting not to laugh, she tilted her head adorably. "Vdokhnoveniye."

I quirked a brow. "Is that not what I said?"

She giggled, shaking her head. "Definitely not."

I grinned, shrugging. "Well, that's what I meant."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm not it, so eyes on your page."

"Oh, how dearly mistaken you are, love," I said quietly, leaning close and giving her a knowing smile.

She looked up, expression softening with a smile. Her eyes were heavenly, pupils dilated as she squinted in the sun, and they flickered to my lips before she settled on nudging me in the shoulder slightly. I snickered, leaning my head on her shoulder since everybody thought we were as close as best friends, so it wouldn't look suspicious. She sighed contently, letting me watch as she moved her paintbrush, painting a flower that was peeking through the grass we were sat on.

I could have stayed there forever, in that moment, sitting with Wanda and watching her paint under the sun. But of course, all good things come to an end when you don't want them to.

"Y/N, dear," I heard my father call, and when I looked up, I saw him approaching Wanda and I from the direction of our house.

Straightening up, I watched as he attempted to sit on the grass, but his legs were too long and he struggled to cross them. With a hearty chuckle, he stretched them out, slightly bent, and leaned on his hands.

"I'm getting too old for this, ladies," he said humorously, making Wanda and I smile.

"What d'you need, dad?" I asked, raising my brows.

"I just wanted to check in and see if you were ready for tonight," he said casually, making me furrow my brows. He seemed to notice my confusion, prompting, "Tonight? Your cousin's birthday party?"

"My cousin's what-now?"

He sighed, massaging the point between his brows. "Y/C/N? They organised this months ago. We're all expected to be there." His glanced to Wanda. "You, too, dear."

Wanda hummed, pulling her gaze from her painting and looking to my dad. "Yes, I'm aware. Got my dress ready and everything."

My eyes snapped to Wanda's with surprise. "You knew about this?!"

"You should be more like her," my dad muttered, as Wanda smiled with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

I looked back to my father. "I was planning on helping Y/B/N with his manuscript tonight."

My dad waved his hand. "I've already talked to him. He's agreed to work on it before the party starts so you're both on time."

I groaned, already tired at the sound of yet another party. Did it ever end?

"Don't be late," he ordered, though his voice was anything but stern. Cue another groan. He smiled before looking to Wanda's painting. "Wow, that's great, dear. Apparently you've got Y/N here attempting to do the same?"

Wanda chuckled as she handed him my several failed attempts. "Key word being 'attempting'."

He accepted the pages and stifled a smile of amusement. "Wow... maybe you should stick to writing, Y/N."

I ripped the pages from his grasp. "Cheers, dad, really."

He laughed before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. "It's all in good faith, dear. Now remember. Don't be late tonight, okay?"

I sighed, which he took as my response, before pushing himself off the grass with a grumble. Dusting his trousers, he nodded to Wanda and I before leaving us be.

"You could've told me I had yet another party to attend tonight," I told Wanda with narrowed eyes.

She shrugged, smiling helplessly. "I thought you knew."

I laid back on the grass with a dramatic sigh. "I just don't understand why our life revolves around extravagant parties, balls and dinners."

"That's just how it is, moya lyubov' (my love)," she said with a warm smile.

I looked up at the sky, raising my hand to shield the sun from my eyes, though my heart fluttered at one of the many nicknames she called me in Russian. "I'd rather live in the middle of nowhere. Where nobody expects anything of me and there's no stupid parties to attend."

She rested a hand on my leg before laying beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I relaxed my head on hers, appreciating how well we fit together.

"Same here," she agreed, making me gasp playfully.

"What? Don't you love the glitz and glamour?"

She laughed quietly. "I do, but I like the peace and quiet more."

I breathed out, fingertips brushing hers. "Maybe I can be a little late tonight... accidentally run over time so I don't have to stay as long."

Her fingers tugged on mine between us as a warning. "No. I'll be left alone and I'll be bored. And when I'm bored, I drink."

It was my turn to laugh. "You won't be alone, Wanda. You'll have Pietro."

She shifted so she was no longer leaning on my shoulder but instead tilting her head to look my way. "I want you."

I turned my head and gave her a small, promising smile. "I'll try to be on time."

She quirked a brow. "Try? You will."

My eyes flittered away, ready to argue otherwise, but she sat up and grabbed her paintbrush. I sat up, too, ready to tell her I would try, but I flinched when she flicked water towards me from the tip of it.

"Are you serious?" I asked, wiping the water from my eyelids with tongue-in-cheek.

She chuckled and I grabbed my paintbrush and did the same, watching her squirm when it flicked on her face.

Suppressed smile on her face, she wiped away the water and glared with dazzling eyes. "You shouldn't start what you can't finish, milaya (darling)."

Smiling from ear to ear, I quirked a brow devilishly. "Oh?"

"You're so lucky we're in front of people," she said lowly, leaning close enough to be platonic, but her hand slipped under my dress and creeped up my leg, making me involuntarily shiver. "Or you would be in serious trouble."

I stopped her hand from going any higher, the rings on her fingers cold enough for me to not melt under her touch. "I highly doubt that, love."

She held my gaze, intoxicating and mesmerising all at once. A sly smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Don't test me then. You heard your father. Don't be late."

I exhaled, licking my lips. "Fine. I won't be."

—

Later that afternoon, I found myself sat in my brother's study as the two of us worked on his latest manuscript together. It was a love story, his (my) specialty, and I was helping him to sort out his sentence structure when he decided to question me.

"Will you entertain me for a moment?" he asked randomly, making me look up from the pages.

"I'll probably regret it, but go on," I said jokingly, before looking back down and adding some notes to the paper.

His chair creaked as he leaned back, eyes watching me thoughtfully. "Are you in a secret relationship?"

I almost choked on my spit as he asked this, heart dropping to my stomach with panic. He couldn't know about Wanda, right? We'd been so careful.

Thankfully, I played it off well as I merely glanced his way before distracting myself with note-taking.

"Why would you think that, Y/B/N?" I asked like he was insane.

He shrugged in my peripheral. "I don't know... I've been wondering for a while. You've just loosened up so much more. And you're not as uptight as you usually are."

"Cheers," I said sarcastically.

He leaned forward, head resting in his palm. "This all happened right about the time I met Wanda..."

I swallowed hard, quirking a brow at him to play down my panic.

"I saw you with Pietro the other week," he continued, and I could finally breathe when I realised what he was insinuating. "I'm happy if you're happy, Y/N, but I'm not a fan of you sleeping with my publisher."

At that thought, I shuddered and proceeded to shove Y/B/N on the arm. "Don't say that. And I would never."

Just your fiancé, I thought guiltily.

"Good," he said with relief, straightening up. "Because you're not supposed to do that until you get married."

I rolled my eyes dismissively in response, but wondered if that still applied in a world where one was not allowed to marry the person they loved.

Y/B/N gave me a reassuring glance. "Look, I'm okay with it, I guess. But I'd appreciate the heads up so I can give him a stern talking to."

Realising there was a hint of mirth in his voice, I looked up and gave him a warning look. "Don't you dare."

He laughed, patting me on the back, to which I shrugged off with annoyance.

"It's the Maximoff charm," he commented knowingly. "The twins have that effect on people, don't they? Wanda sure has it on me."

A short silence fell after he said that and I chewed on my lip curiously, unable to stop myself from speaking until it was too late.

"Is her love reciprocated?"

He looked down to me from his daydream, no doubt of Wanda. "Pardon?"

Knowing there was no backing down from the conversation now, I avoided his eyes. "The engagement between you both was arranged... you're clearly in love with her, but is it returned?"

His lips twitched into a frown. "I'd hope so."

I hummed, diverting my attention away from him and to the pen in my hand.

"Why? Did she say something?" he asked, voice laden with worry.

"Of course not," I reassured him.

"But you'd tell me if she did?" he asked eagerly.

I looked his way and saw him peering down at me, hanging onto my response. I nodded lamely, which seemed to put him at ease as he sank into his chair with relief.

We spent the next few hours working on the manuscript without a hitch, but I noticed the time and realised the party was already in full swing. Wanda's words came to mind and I hoped she wouldn't be too annoyed at my lateness.

"We're wrapping it up now, don't worry," Y/B/N said, noticing me check the clock. "Thanks for the help. I'm gonna get this to my editor tomorrow. Your amendments should help make the process go a lot smoothly."

I hummed in response, feeling a heaviness settle on my shoulders as he mentioned his editor. It was always the same routine – I helped him with his manuscript, he got it edited, got his book published and got all the credit. And I was stuck in the same position, wishing I could do the same.

"What is it?" he asked with a sigh, sensing my mood.

Playing with the corner of the manuscript, I met his gaze. "I help you with your writing, but I never get anything from it."

"You get to help me," he pointed out, not seeing the issue. "Isn't that enough?"

Pietro's offer came to mind as I said, "What if I wrote my own book? And got published with my name on the cover?"

He squinted as he studied me, trying to find the humour in my words. Letting out a laugh, he shook his head.

"Y/N, that's absurd."

I raised my eyebrows hopefully. "I mean, is it? Would that be so bad?"

He pressed his lips together and breathed out through his nose. Resting a hand on my shoulder, he gave me a condescending look.

"I'm saying this because I care," he said, making me feel like crap. "But yes."

As if I didn't already know the answer, I asked, "Why?"

He motioned with his hand like it was obvious. "Because. People would look at you differently. You'd be undesirable. You know men don't like smart women. I'm just looking out for you as your brother."

I looked away, the bitterness at his words stinging more than usual. "Well, I like smart women."

Thinking I was joking, he chuckled. "Don't go saying things like that. One might misinterpret."

My teeth pressed into my lower lip hard, trying to contain my frustration.

"You can do this every now and then," he said, referring to the manuscript, "but any more isn't possible. Besides, two authors in one family? That's insane."

I forced a smile, but I wondered if his last comment was the real reason he wouldn't let me at least try to get published.

"Anyway, never mind that," he said indifferently. "We should probably head out. Dad is not going to be pleased. Especially since I promised we wouldn't be late."

I nodded, sliding my chair out and wanting to be anywhere but here right now. "Yeah, come on."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "Can't wait to see Pietro?"

I slapped him on the arm before standing up, ignoring his laughter. Nothing to make an already-depressing night worse than going to a party you didn't care for.

—

Wanda Maximoff was a very difficult drunk to be around, I'd learnt that the hard way.

As soon as Y/B/N and I rolled up to my cousin's house, a third of the guests were drunk and the rest were tipsy. A typical Y/L/N get-together. Y/B/N was instantly dragged away by some family whilst I was quick to make myself scarce, attempting to find Wanda. But the place was bustling with people and there were way too many rooms to check.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

I found Pietro before I found his twin, as he was poking around party favours on a table in the corner, attempting to make out what were in the bags.

"If you're expecting a brand new fountain pen, you won't find it in there," I teased, making him jump.

He sighed when he looked my way, realising it was me. "I know that. But there's nothing better here to do, so I may as well know what freebies we'll be getting by the end of it."

I smirked. "Anything good?"

He shrugged, seeming disappointed. "Just some chocolate and perfume samples."

Holding back a smile, I said, "How tragic."

"If you're looking for my sister, she's over there," he said, nodding behind me. "You'll love this one."

"What do you mean?" I asked, brows knitted with confusion, before turning around and following his gaze.

Wanda was indeed stood on the other side of the dining room and I could just about make her out between idle guests. She was chatting to some woman, hands moving erratically and with expression, a grin on her lips.

"What is she doing?" I asked unsurely, tearing my eyes from her and looking to Pietro.

He was withholding laughter as he answered, "Sometimes, dear Y/N, my beloved twin sister gets drunk when she's–"

"Bored," I finished, remembering what she told me this morning. My face dropped as I mumbled, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh indeed," Pietro said, grinning at his sister's dismay. "Drunk Wanda is a very truthful Wanda. So, any secrets of hers will most definitely be revealed tonight."

Pietro was too caught up in his own amusement to notice my eyes widening.

"One of our servants made me a platter a few years ago," Pietro explained, oblivious to my panic. "It was a delicious cheese platter, the cheese having been imported from France. Then, Wanda proceeded to eat it without telling me. When I asked if she did, she lied. And I only discovered she lied because she got drunk a few weeks later and bragged about how good the cheese was."

Continuing to ramble, though this time in Russian, Pietro complained about said incident, though I wasn't listening as I watched Wanda talk to the woman enthusiastically. I could only imagine what secrets she was sharing.

"Pietro!" I cut him off, earning his attention. "Shouldn't you do something? To stop Wanda?"

The cheese platter story long forgotten, his grin reappeared on his lips. "Nah, it's funny watching her make a fool of herself."

I gave him a look of disbelief before looking back to Wanda, who was laughing at something by herself. The woman she was speaking to seemed partially confused, but smiled to be polite. I gulped, before shaking my head.

"I'm not that mean," I said to Pietro before making a move to stop her.

Pietro booed me playfully, but I ignored him and approached the drunk brunette, managing to catch her conversation.

"–and they're usually such catty bitch–"

"Wanda!" I immediately cut her off, bumping into her side slightly to get her attention. "There you are!"

Green eyes widened with excitement as they met mine. "Y/N! You're here!"

Ignoring her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her close before looking to the guest she was talking with.

"My apologies for her behaviour," I said with an awkward smile, hoping Wanda hadn't revealed anything suspicious.

"No need to apologise, dear," the woman said with an amused smile. "Wanda here was telling me all about how lovely of a sister-in-law you are. Or will be."

Wanda grinned, looking to me and leaning in so close that her nose brushed my cheek. "Yeah, she is," she continued to the woman, though her eyes were on mine. "She's sweet, not like other people make out their sister-in-laws to be."

My face was warm as I cleared my throat and smiled once more to the woman. "If you'll excuse Wanda and I."

The woman barely got out a nod before I dragged Wanda away, trying to keep her lips away from my neck (she was also an extremely clingy drunk). Tugging her into the bathroom down the hall, I closed the door behind us and released a breath of relief, grateful for the escape from guests.

"You look very sexy when you're worried," Wanda complimented, stepping forward and smiling dazedly.

"Wanda–"

She placed her hand on my jaw, moving closer so that her lips were grazing mine as she mumbled, "You came late, milaya (darling). But I still love you."

I'd like to say that I had the willpower to push her away and scold her for acting so obvious about us before, but my lips went numb as she captured them between hers. I could taste the alcohol on her lips as she moved them against mine, making me dizzy and forgetting what I was going to say. Her thumb caressed my jaw and I relaxed under her touch, hands resting on her chest. When she tried to part my lips with her tongue, I seemed to come to my senses.

"Wanda, you're drunk," I muttered, pushing her back gently.

She chased down my mouth again, sucking on my lip and tilting my head back so she could have better access. I tried not to let her win as I kissed her briefly before pulling away. Clouded hazel eyes met mine with a matching smirk.

"You're such a tease," she whispered, her accent thicker than usual and making my stomach flip uncontrollably. Her thumb traced my lips as she continued, "You shouldn't do that when I already know how you taste, moya lyubov' (my love)."

The way she was staring at me made me flustered in place, and she seemed to notice her effect on me as she winked my way.

Shaking my head and trying not to let her win, I said, "Look, Wanda. I'm sorry for being late. But did you really have to get drunk?"

She shrugged, leaning her weight on my shoulder with her hand. "If you hadn't kept me waiting, then I wouldn't have."

I sighed, looking to her apologetically. "I didn't realise the time."

A permanent troublesome smile was fixed on her lips as she watched me.

"Your brother told me how you can be when you get drunk," I said with mild concern, hoping she'd register my seriousness. "You need to be careful, Wanda. We can't have people finding out about us."

"It seems to me," she began agonisingly slowly, lacing her arms around my shoulders, "that you'll have to watch me all night to make sure I don't do anything out of line."

Determined not to play into her teasing, I maintained her gaze with a stern stare. "It seems I'll have to."

She bit her lip, eyes flickering between mine, before leaning further into my ear. In a whispered voice, she said, "That means you can't leave my side, printsessa (princess)."

I clenched my jaw, ready to agree, but a gasp escaped my lips as hers sucked on my earlobe, teeth nibbling on the sensitive skin. Stupid Wanda and her stupid flirting and stupid attractiveness.

"Wanda!" I scolded, though my cheeks were flushed as I pushed her away gently.

She laughed adorably, the sound making my heart skip a beat. "What?"

"You have to behave," I told her, swallowing hard and trying not to let her teasing smile get to me. "You can't do this out there. Okay?"

"Okay," she agreed in a way that wasn't reassuring in the slightest.

I rolled my eyes before grabbing her hand and leading her back outside the bathroom, returning to the party. I wasn't planning on leaving her side for the rest of the evening, even if Y/B/N wanted to be with her. The last thing I wanted was for her cute drunken self to reveal something she couldn't take back.

To my relief, she kind of behaved after that. There were times when she would get a little too touchy to be platonic, but a quick stare set her straight. Y/B/N wasn't around much, as when he did join us, he was immediately pulled away by some family friends who wanted to discuss his books. For once, I was glad he was an author, afraid of what would happen if Wanda got too comfortable in his presence.

At one point though, he was able to join Wanda, Pietro and I at a standing table, relief flooding his expression when nobody called after him. His arm wrapped around Wanda's waist and he kissed the top of her head, making me look the other way with distaste. She scrunched her nose up at the action before distracting herself with a drink. I gave her a knowing look, having told her earlier to stop with the alcohol. She pretended not to see me.

"Sorry I've not been able to spend time with you tonight," he said to Wanda, oblivious to her tipsy state.

"It's almost like it's your birthday and not your cousin's," Pietro joked, smiling at him.

My brother chuckled. "I guess. They just all wanna talk about my manuscript."

"Ah, yes, the reason you were late, right?" Wanda asked, eyes falling to mine.

"I'm sorry," my brother apologised, assuming it was him she was speaking to.

"You were helping him, too, right?" Pietro asked, looking to me curiously. "Maybe I'll finally get a glance at your work."

I narrowed my eyes at him, having figured he'd put the subject to rest after last time. He merely grinned in response, finding joy in messing with me, just like his sister. Before I could say anything, my brother beat me to it.

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

"Don't be getting any ideas. It's just a hobby." He smiled forcefully, before glancing at me. "Isn't it, Y/N?"

So he was jealous. Wow.

"You don't need to hide your relationship, y'know," he continued when I didn't respond, looking to Pietro.

The silver-haired publisher choked on his drink as he looked to my brother, clearly very amused.

"I know you're together," Y/B/N said with agitation. "Everybody does. And don't get me wrong, Pietro, I respect you as a publisher."

I groaned quietly, closing my eyes with embarrassment. When I opened them, Pietro was watching my brother with an entertained smile, meanwhile, Wanda was looking between them with a twitching frown.

"But if you're going to date my sister, you should do it the right way," my brother continued stupidly. "It's not appropriate to have whatever this is." He motioned between us with his hands. "It's wrong."

I jumped when Wanda's hand slipped to my arse, squeezing it gently. Thankfully, our backs were to a wall so nobody would have noticed behind us, but I instantly glared at her and removed her hand. She gave me a cunning smile, not bothered by the consequences.

"...and if you're sleeping together like I suspect," Y/B/N was saying, making me flush with humiliation, "know that our friendship is at breaking point. I can't have that blatant disrespect in my life."

Wanda continued to attempt to grab my arse, making me slap her hand away several times, all whilst trying to manage whatever conversation was happening right now.

"I can't believe you just said that," I finally spoke up, managing to keep Wanda at bay long enough. "You're such an idiot, Y/B/N! I told you I wasn't with Pietro!"

Pietro tried not to laugh as he met my brother's intimidating stare. "I value our friendship, too, Y/B/N. Which is why I can promise you I have no... relations... with your sister. I don't like her like that, I can assure you."

Wanda snorted with amusement, before hiding behind a glass of wine when everyone looked her way.

Y/B/N seemed embarrassed as he cleared his throat. "Oh."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, oh!"

"I guess I should apologise," he said awkwardly, looking to Pietro. "I–"

"No apology necessary," Pietro cut him off, raising a hand. "I am thankful for the entertainment however."

"I'm gonna go literally anywhere else," I dismissed myself, unable to take the uncomfortable situation any longer.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked away. To my surprise, Wanda trailed after, falling into step with me.

I glanced at her unhappily, quirking a brow. "Can I help you?"

"Oh, don't be mad at me because your brother's an idiot," she said with a wag of her hand.

I gave her a suggestive look. "I told you to behave."

She pressed her lips together in a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry... Y/B/N was talking about you and Pietro and I– well, I don't like sharing, remember?"

The improper glint in her eye as she stopped before me, watching with amusement, made me feel warm all of a sudden. That day when she first told me that and we proceeded to make love flashed to mind, and she seemed to know as she had a mischievous look on her face.

Clearing my throat, I pointed a finger her way. "Behave."

I should have known by the devilish look in her eyes that she wouldn't.

[sprnklersplashes]

songwriter!janis fic (unrequited crush, no-very-happy-ending) 

also on ao3

It all started because she loved Taylor Swift when she was in middle school. Who is she kidding, she still loves Taylor Swift, but that’s where all this began. A middle school girl’s obsession with Taylor Swift. A confused, sad girl with a broken heart and smudged black eyeliner, finding refuge in lyrics about loneliness and anger and revenge. They became anthems for her, mantras to mutter when the warzone of middle school became too much for her.

“Someday, I’ll be living in a big old city, and all you’re ever gonna be is mean.”

“Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

“I can still see you, this ain’t the best view.”

It amazes her. It’s honestly as if Taylor Swift has managed to look into her life and given her a bundle of songs for whatever she needs. For when Regina has thrown her one too many snide looks, for when she’s standing at the door of North Shore High on her first day, for when she eats lunch alone, for when her mom is the best mom she could have asked for, for when she and Damian are lying on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the sky, laughing at absolutely nothing. The songs become the soundtrack to her life, the chords and those raw, honest lyrics an emotional outlet she so desperately craves. Taylor, and her songs, become a confidant, almost a close friend who always knows what to say.

With all that in mind, perhaps it was only a matter of time before she asks for a guitar for Christmas. She’s fourteen, braces and a slight lisp, and jumps up and down like a mad woman when she sees it under the tree.

She practices for three days straight, until her fingers bleed, but Should’ve Said No is the first song she learns off by heart. She yells the lyrics with maybe a little too much passion, but her parents applaud her nonetheless.

Like she said, that’s how it all started.

Because that same Christmas, she realises that screaming her feelings while playing guitar actually feels pretty cathartic. And that if it worked for Taylor Swift, it could work for her. So she writes stuff down, plays around with chords and strumming until the beat on the guitar matches the one in her head. She grabs a page and a pencil and writes and re-writes her innermost thoughts and feelings on the page until they sound the way she wants them to. She plays around with rhyme schemes and structure and everything she’s been taught about in English class, and a thrill runs through her as she does so. It’s the same breathless high she feels when she paints or draws, the rush that comes from creating something.

Her parents sit on the other side of her bedroom door, no doubt exchanging worried glances as she repeats the same verse, same chorus, with only a word changed. She watches them when they think she can’t see, peering through the crack in her door. The conclusion they seem to come to is ‘well, as coping mechanisms go, it’s pretty good, and she’s happy, so who are we to stop it?’.

It takes her four days to finish her first song. And it sucks. But she keeps it, writes down the lyrics and chords in one of the few empty notebooks she has, and there’s no going back from it now. She writes, and she writes, and she writes, near enough every day. She likes to think she gets better with each one. She learns more chords, buys a cheap ukulele the summer after freshman year, tries her hand at piano during a particularly difficult few weeks. She doesn’t plan on doing anything with them. They’re just her little pieces to hold on to. Her therapy sessions outside the carpeted office.

No-one knows about it. She has a reputation to keep up, after all. The loner-by-choice, too-cool-for-school, aloof art freak. Everyone has their roles to play in the ecosystem that is high school and, much as she hates the entire system, that is hers to play. And she plays it well, if she may say so. The fact that hardly anyone knows her past that facade suits her just fine. After all, if people think she doesn’t care, she can’t get hurt. No-one needs to know that Janis Sarkisian actually has feelings.

Even less need to know that she writes songs about said feelings.

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

By the time she reaches her junior year, she’s onto her third notebook. She keeps them tucked away in her sock drawer, expertly hidden so only she can find them. Damian teases her about it, calling her “the protagonist of a Disney Channel Original Movie”. She just rolls her eyes and reminds him that “if either of us is gonna be Disney’s first openly gay character, it’ll be you”. He can’t argue with that.

It should be noted that when Janis said that no-one knows about her songwriting, Damian was the obvious exception. He found out just weeks after she started. There’s no keeping secrets from him.

Between all her notebooks, she’s written around forty songs.

Then she meets Cady Heron one day. The human embodiment of a labrador puppy, complete with wide, lost eyes. She likes her instantly, decides to take her under her wing because Lord knows the girl needs it. Cady’s smile is infectious, her laugh like a summer breeze. She has dimples and caramel-coloured hair and really likes maths.

She meets Cady on a Monday.

By that Saturday, song number 41-titled “Dimples and Curls” is more or less complete.

She plays it for Damian, hands only slightly shaking as she changes chords, the strumming short and upbeat, the melody strangely happy for such a bittersweet song.

He applauds her, but the subject of the song hangs in the air even after she’s played the last chord and the music fades. Unsaid, but not unknown. Just like her songwriting, Janis couldn’t keep a crush from Damian if she tried.

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

“Hey, check it out.”

Cady drops onto the seat across from Janis, the whole table shaking as she does so. Like a small meteor just hit Earth. Janis looks up from her lunch, pretending like she had been doing her own thing and not watching the door until Cady came in. Pretending like her stomach doesn’t do little flips at the sight of her crossing the cafeteria. She pulls the flyer towards her and hums in amusement.

“The winter talent show,” she reads before chomping off a carrot stick. “Oh, is it that time of year already?”

“Seems like only yesterday we was welcoming the young’uns into this brave new world during the harvest season,” Damian sighs, putting on a delightfully over the top Southern Belle accent, no doubt influenced by their reading of Streetcar Named Desire in English class. Janis cackles, and nearly chokes on her lunch as she does.

“And now the cold winds of winter are descending upon us,” she replies, her accent equally heavy. She bats her eyes for good measure, because she can and because it makes Cady laugh. “Oh but I pray the children will survive this season, it is often rough for them.”

“I am never showing you two anything winter related ever again,” Cady says.

Janis just shrugs and runs her hand through her hair before her eyes go back to the flyer. Clearly, whatever sophomore they got to design it this year did their best; found the prettiest looking snowflakes on Google Images to put on the cartoon stage, decided to write in some swirling, slanted font rather than the start-studded block lettering they usually went for. It’s still the same as it is every year, meaning just as mockable, but she’ll give them points for tying.

“Well, anyone here going for it?” she asks. She looks from Damian to Cady and back again, a teasing smirk on her lips. “Last year and all that.”

“Not sure I can,” Damian sighs. “I mean, I’m booked up with Spelling Bee rehearsals and spring cabaret auditions happening next semester.” He drums his fingers against his throat. “Gotta give the little vocal chords some rest, you know?”

Janis’ response is to sing the lowest note she possibly can before turning to Cady and giving her a pointed look, the corner of her mouth quirked up.

“Who? Me?” Cady’s cheeks turned crimson and she shakes her head so much that the caramel curls bounced around her shoulders. “No way. Damian can take the stage, I’m fine with my calculators and textbooks.”

“You could always solve equations in front of everyone,” Janis says. “I could call out college-level questions from the audience and you solve them in under 30 seconds.”

“I think I’ll pass,” she giggles. She leans forward slightly, eyes glittering, and Janis does her best not to squirm. The effect Cady Heron’s eyes have on her should be studied by scientists. “What about you, Janis?”

“I don’t know.” She thinks back to when she helped on stage crew last year, as well as helping out (or taking over) with the set design. It had been fun, the kind of challenge she needed to keep her mind off the slowly-going-off-the-rails plan. And she was told it looked good on her college applications, because all people can think about apparently is college, college, college. “Maybe. They might need another genius stage manager.”

“And you’ll step in if they can’t find one?” She digs Damian in the ribs for that comment.

“But not performing?” Cady asks, and Janis freezes. Performing had never even crossed her mind before. She’s used to backstage, hell, she likes backstage. It’s not that she has stage fright or anything, and if she had, her stunt at Ms Norbury’s little healing session would have squished it. She had just never thought about it.

But Cady had, apparently.

“I-No, I-I don’t think so,” she stammers out. “Um, I might do backstage again, but not actually doing something, you know, talent related.” She bites her tongue and clamps her lips shut before anything else can come out.

“Okay then,” Cady replies slowly. She gets up from the table, her little empty water bottle in her hands. “I’m going to go for a refill, save my seat.”

“No problem,” Janis says, but Cady’s already jogging away.

She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad that Cady’s known her too long to think of her as cool, and so this kind of awkward babbling isn’t really surprising to her. Instead of thinking about it, she just sets her head on the table and lets Damian rub her back.

“You were nowhere near as bad as you think you were,” he assures her.

“Title of your sex tape,” comes her murmured reply. Damian chuckles and runs his fingers through her hair, like she’s his pet cat. It helps.

“So you’re definitely not going for the talent show then?” he asks.

Her first instinct is to say no, because of course she isn’t, because she never has before and she sees no point in breaking a three-year streak, but the answer catches in her throat. At the same time, something begins forming in her brain, pieces of a melody she’s already known, words filling in blank spots in her brain, and her fingers twitch involuntarily, playing the chords on an invisible guitar. Without a word, she grabs a notepad and pen from her bag and scribbles the words down before she forgets them, quickly becoming breathless just by sitting there. She forgets, for a moment, everything else, the talent show, Cady, even Damian next to her, and just revels in the task and the quick buzz she gets just from writing. Just like that she has one eye on the clock, itching to get home and put her notes into the rest of the song.

But with those notes came an idea, an idea so completely out of left field she almost laughs at it.

“Janis?” Damian asks, just slightly unnerved by her. If anyone else were at this table, even Cady (especially Cady), she would have had to excuse herself and run to the bathroom, or just hope the words stayed in her head long enough for her to get a quiet moment. “Did the Goddess of Music just possess you again?”

“Maybe,” is her response. He doesn’t know it, but she answered both the questions he asked in the past minute.

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

She sits on her bed that night, her homework half-done and strewn across the desk, abandoned in favour of the guitar sitting in her lap and notebook open on her bed. She’s been working on his song for the better part of a week, inspiration and motivation seemingly striking and then fading whenever she gets a free moment. Abandoning it has crossed her mind-she’s no stranger to abandoning things that aren’t working-but for some reason she hasn’t quite been able to shake this particular song off.

Maybe it is Euterpe, the Goddess of Music, descending upon her because this song has to be finished, it has to be, Olympus willing it so.

Or maybe it’s because this song is one of the most personal things she’s ever written, a love letter she’ll never send, and the idea of it sitting unfinished drives her crazy.

She plays another chord and sings the line again, changing the ending slightly, and makes the adjustment in her notes.

She’s crazy. This is already crazy, her secret double life as a wannabe T-Swift, but now she’s gone beyond that. Thinking of actually playing it. On a stage. In front of people. She doesn’t care what people think of her, she stopped caring about that a long, long time ago, but holy shit what will people think of her after she does this? Life isn’t like the movies, she knows that much. It won’t be some pretty, softly-lit moment where the crowd sits with teary eyes, Cady runs onstage and kisses her and she’s offered a deal by some big shot producer, and they all live happily ever after the end. What could happen is people think she’s even more of a weirdo than they do now.

Or she gets tomatoes thrown at her head and she’s booed off the stage. That’s a possibility.

She calls Damian, because that’s the only way she sees out of her little thought cul-de-sac. She puts the phone on speaker and props it up against a pillow, keeping her hands free for her guitar and her pen. He picks up on the third ring, just as she’s strumming out a G chord.

“Oh, is someone prepping for her Grammy?” he asks. “You’re still taking me as your date, right?”

“Only if my dog can’t go,” she replies. She taps her nails against the wood, the rhythm too fast and frantic to just be a habit. Yes, she can tell Damian anything, and being nervous in front of him is laughable, but sometimes her body forgets that. “So, I was thinking about the talent show.”

“Oh? You’re going for stage crew again? Cool.”

“No-not exactly.” She knows he can’t see the smile creeping across her face, but she’d wager he can hear it through the phone. A small swarm of butterflies flutters in her chest, leaving her just slightly out of breath. “I… I. think I’m going to try performing in it.”

A burst of laughter comes through the phone, slightly tinged with static, and Janis wishes he were here so she could slap him. Even if it’s not malicious in intent at all, and she’s laughing right along with him. Slapping is kind of a love language for them.

“Okay, okay cool. What’re you going to do?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” she says, and then she plays the opening chords to her latest experiment. She doesn’t add in the lyrics, not yet. Still, she sits back and basks in his applause when she finishes, cackling into her hand. He might be one person, but he’s got enough enthusiasm to match a packed auditorium. “What do you think?”

“I’m into it,” he tells her. “So… that’s the one you’re doing?”

“Think so.” She tosses the pick between her fingers. Like he could feel her smile, she can feel his raised eyebrow through the phone, the elephant in the room poking her with its trunk. “Yes, I know.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought it,” she tells him, and he doesn’t deny it. She looks back over the lyrics she’s written and re-written. Despite some adjustments, it’s still in essence the same. Still about a girl with pretty hair who smells like vanilla and cinnamon, who has a boyfriend and is unknowingly breaking the heart of a girl with black eyeliner and paint stained fingers. Because her boyfriend is pretty and clean and smells like soap and can do math, and how is the poor art girl even meant to compare to that?

“Yes,” she says after a while. “It is about Cady.”

“Aw, my poor lovestruck songstress,” he sighs. He shifts then, and the air shifts with him. “You sure that’s the one you want to sing? I mean you have dozens of other non-Cady related songs. I’m sure Mr Duvall would love to hear Angry Teenage Lesbian Anthem.”

“First off, I gave that one a title, it’s called Shattered,” she reminds him. “And-” She freezes, the rest of her sentence catching in her throat. He’s right. She could perform one of her other songs, that are already finished and therefore removing the pressure to have this one finished, polished and stage-ready. And of course, it would mean she wouldn’t be standing in front of her entire grade and telling them all how badly she’s in love with her best friend. Showing her deepest secret to the people who have already driven her out of school once. It’s a far safer, potentially less traumatic option for her.

But…

“No,” she says. “I know it sounds crazy but I feel like… I feel like I need to do this.” She swallows thickly and picks softly at the guitar strings. “It’s like… like this way at least I’m telling her, you know? Even if she doesn’t know it.”

Of course, Damian gets it.

“That’s beautiful, babe,” he tells her. “So you’re actually doing this?”

“I’m actually doing this,” she replies firmly. “And tomorrow, I need you to make sure I don’t chicken out before I sign up.”

“Got it. I’ll just order you to do it as Senior Co-Chair of the Student Activities Committee.”

“That’s an abuse of power.”

“Then consider yourself abused baby.” He laughs and she laughs with him, and then she hears something on Damian’s end. “I have to go. A certain little sister of mine has a princess costume that needs attending to. See you later.”

“See you later,” she replies before he clicks off the call. She looks down at her paper, then at her guitar, and thinks about what she just committed to. “I’ve got some work to do.”

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

The song goes through four rewrites in the weeks leading up to the talent show. The whole first verse is changed, the chorus scrapped and replaced with a new one, then that one is scrapped and she goes back to the old one. She sits hunched on her floor with a pencil in her mouth, wondering if what she’s written is too personal or not personal enough. If it’s too obvious that Cady, smart cookie that she is, will work it out and that’ll lead them down a new, scary path. She cuts some lyrics that give the game away, opting to replace one about love for numbers with love for learning, because that opens up the pool to half their grade. She writes about Cady’s blue eyes rather than specifically those double dimples that make her melt. Maybe she’s compromising her artistic vision, but it might be worth it if it’ll keep her crush a secret. She keeps the old lyrics tucked in the back of her notebook, just to have them.

Meanwhile, she’s also dealing with the fact that people know she has signed up for the talent show. That Miss Too Cool For School Loner Art Freak Janis is actually performing at a school event. And she doesn’t even get extra credit for it. They’re surprised, and curious, and none more so than Cady. The other girl appears at her side almost instantly after first period, skinny little arms wrapped around her bicep and blue eyes alight.

Oh, the things those eyes do to her.

“Janis!” she squeaks. “I saw-on the sign up sheet-your name! Oh my God, is this a joke? Did Damian put you up to it?”

“No, no, I signed up of my own accord,” Janis tells her. That only makes Cady bounce more, ponytail bobbing up and down.

“Oh wow, that’s amazing!” she says. She stops then, her mouth freezing in its place and her cheeks turning pink. Slowly, she comes down to Earth, like a balloon that had the air let out of it. Janis can almost hear the wheeze. “I mean um, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“It’s pretty grool,” Janis replies, and just like that Cady bounces back up again.

“Oh my gosh, what are you going to do?” she asks. “Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“You think I have some secret knife-throwing talent?” she grins. She hesitates for a moment, looking down at Cady’s excited face, because even if this isn’t telling her… it’s telling her. “I’m… I’m going to sing.” She pulls on the strap of her backpack and avoids Cady’s eyes. “Something I wrote.”

“Okay,” Cady says. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

“Hey!” she laughs. “I can write stuff. I can be deep.”

“Oh, I have no doubt about it,” Cady says, bumping her arm against Janis’. “But for real, Janis, I can’t wait to see it. I know you’ll be amazing.”

Warmth spreads across her pale cheeks, a pink blush no doubt colouring her face, and she somehow manages to choke out a “thanks” as her brain turns to static. Her only thought is ‘Cady thinks I’m going to be good’, and it’s written in glitter pen across her brain.

“This is going to be great,” she goes on. “Oh, wait until I tell Aaron. He’s got a break in his schedule that week so he’s coming up to see the talent show! Isn’t that great?”

And just like that, Janis’ good mood falls. Her face stays the same, because she’s trained to do it, but everything behind it crumbles.

“Yeah, that’s great,” she replies. Cady squeezes her hand, oblivious, and drags her along the hallway, chatting away about some lion documentary she had watched last night.

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

She finishes the song that night. She arrives home with a heavy chest, so full of complicated, messy feelings, and her conversation with Cady still so fresh in her mind, her ears still ringing from the emotional whiplash. Her parents barely get a ‘hello’ as she enters and bolts up to her room, her hands shaking, the thoughts swirling around her brain desperate to be let out.

And let them out she does. She writes so quickly they look more like smudges than words, her fingers flying over rapidly changing chords, her voice broken and panting as she sings. The words almost write themselves, like the song has taken on a life of its own and she’s just along for the ride. She barely remembers to pause, to breathe, so wrapped up in the storm she’s created with just her guitar and pen.

It’s only when she finishes and falls back on her bed that she notices the tears in her eyes. She blinks them away and pulls herself up, her notebook in her hand. It’s done. The perfect blend of her own honest feelings and just enough smokescreen to keep people from knowing who it’s really about.

There’s no backing out now, she thinks. Her stomach drops, like she’s on the top of a roller coaster about to go down. A laugh bubbles up in her throat and leaves her breathless, her head spinning while she’s still laying there.

If holy shit were am adjective, she'd use it to describe how she feels. Because holy shit.

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

Being backstage when she’s not on crew is a strange experience. She stands with her guitar slung around her body, in the middle of a current of students moving around her, half with the clunky microphones and walkie-talkies she’s used so many times before. She asks five of them if she can do anything to help-because they’re her people and she needs to do something to occupy her time-until she finally takes the hint and leaves them to it. Stagehands are the most efficient parts of any production, as she told Damian once. They’re a well-oiled machine at this point.

“Yo!” For a second, Janis thinks she imagined the whisper, just one in a jumble of backstage noises, until Damian appears at her side. A tiny ‘shit’ escapes her mouth, her body jerking. Barely anyone bats an eye at her, except him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”

“Don’t worry. I think at this point a small breeze could knock into me and I’d crumble.”

“The great Janis Sarkisian gets nervous?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Only when she’s doing something incredibly personal and scary in front of her entire grade,” she whispers back. She swallows past the lump in her throat. “Aside from that I’m a beacon of confidence and unshakable will.”

“Hey.” He taps his knuckles against hers. “Remember how scared you were at Norbury’s assembly?”

“You mean after I had my picture all over the school with the d-slur written underneath it?” she mutters. “Yeah, I was shitting myself.”

“And yet, look what you did there,” he reminds her. “You were amazing. And you’re going to be amazing here too. Once you get on that stage, all those butterflies are going to make you fly, kid.”

She smiles, her heart warm, and pressed her face into the crook of Damian’s neck.

She doesn’t know how she got so lucky to have him, but she knows better than to tempt fate.

“Janis Sarkisian?” She lifts her head to find a freshman girl with a headset around her neck looking at her. “You’re up next.”

“Okay.” It’s only now she becomes aware that the last minute of Fairytale Of New York is playing, the notes will soon fade out, and that’s her cue. She turns to Damian and lets him straighten her black cardigan and fiddle with the collar of her shirt. “Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need it.” He drops a whisper of a kiss to her nose. “But good luck.”

She holds her half-heart necklace as he goes, the twin to the one around his neck. It’s as close as she can get to having him with her. Her chest tightens as she makes her way to the stage and she tries to breathe through it, because the next thign she knows, Mr Duvall is announcing her name, and she’s being greeted by a blinding spotlight that thankfully obscures most of her peers’ faces.

“Uh, hi,” she says into the microphone placed out for her. It’s just people , she reminds herself. Somewhere in that crowd, second row, seat 14, is Damian, and she breathes easier. And next to him is Cady, the girl this song is about, and for some reason that straightens her spine and irons out the shaking in her voice. She takes the pick out of its holder and tosses her hair back. “This is a song I wrote about being in love with someone who doesn’t love you back.” She blinks and hopes no-one sees the tears in her eyes. “So sing along if you get into it, because we all know it’s a shitty ass feeling.”

She plays the first chord, and then any and all doubts she had about this flee her. As cliche as it sounds, the song takes over her, and she blows through the nerves in the first verse. The experience becomes cathartic instead, like releasing a pressure valve on her soul. Even with the little diversions she threw in, she hasn’t felt this open and god damn free since last year, paraded on her peers’ shoulders with both middle fingers up. Except now she’s not flipping anyone off, or proving a point, she’s just finally telling someone how she feels, and holy shit, it’s amazing. Whatever the aftermath of this is, she won’t care, it’s worth it just for this feeling.

As she sings the last word, and that final note rings in the auditorium, her hands are shaking, her cheeks wet with tears and her hair sticky with sweat. She touches beneath her eye and her fingers come away stained black.  She hasn’t cried in front of people since middle school. She doesn’t care.

The cheers of her classmates ring in her ears, Damian’s whooping the loudest of all, and as she takes her bow, she hopes she’ll remember this moment for a long time.

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

“Oh my God!” she’s barely into the auditorium when Cady launches herself at her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs circling her waist. Janis nearly topples over, digging her back leg into the ground just in time, and hugs Cady with the same ferocity. “You were amazing!” she yells into her shoulder, the sound muffled by Janis’ hair.

“Really?”

“Absolutely.” She sets Cady down, but the other girl keeps a tight grip on both her arms. Janis wonders if it’s to keep herself from flying away, given the amount of bouncing up and down she’s doing. “I can’t believe you wrote that! It was so good! You need to record it, Jan. Do you have any other songs?”

“Just a few,” she says. “And I don’t know if I’m in the business of making an album any time soon.” She swings her guitar case a little. “This might have been a one-time thing.”

“Well, even if it was, it was awesome,” she says.

“Thank you, Caddy,” Janis replies. “That means a lot.”

Her mouth runs dry as Cady smiles, all baby pink lipgloss and sparkling eyes and full cheeks. If this were a movie, she thinks, this would be the part where they kiss. No need for talking, or an explanation. Because Cady would have just known. The music would turn soft and twinkly, and the lighting would match it and it would look like they’re in a dream and they’d just kiss, and it will fix all of Janis’ problems. Maybe a single tear will run down her cheek. And then they’ll run off into their new lives as the end credits roll.

How sweet that would be.

But her life isn’t a movie. If she wants anything, she has to go for it herself.

And that includes-

“Caddy.” Her name is delicate on her lips, handled with care. Cady looks at her, giving a simple ‘mm-hm’ in response, and Janis’ heart beats out of control. “That song I just sang, it-”

“Hey, guys.”

Also if this was a movie, Cady’s sweet, lovely, nice boyfriend would not be barging in right now. He’d either be a douchebag who she doesn’t feel bad about hurting, or he’d be nonexistent.

Unfortunately, this is not a movie, and Aaron Samuels exists and is the human equivalent of a squishmallow.

“Hey Aaron.” He slings his arm around Cady’s shoulders, and she leans into his touch almost instinctively. “Janis, you were great up there. I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“It’s a bit of a new hobby,” she says, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat, and finds a bottle of water being handed to-thrown at-her.

“Hydrate those chords,” is Damian’s greeting.

“This is what I get for being friends with a theatre kid,” she sighs before she takes a drink. She hadn’t realised how dry her throat was until now.

“Okay, so we’re all going for pancakes,” Aaron says. “I take it you two are coming?”

“How can I say no to pancakes?” Janis asks. “Uh, you guys go ahead, I have to get my stuff from the green room.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you,” Cady says. “Aaron brought his car so he can drive us.”

“Grool.” Cady and Aaron turn around together, Aaron spinning his eyes around his finger and Cady lacing her fingers through his, talking about something she can’t hear. It’s like watching them through a sheet of glass.

Not a movie. Not unless it’s one of those really, really sad movies. Sad homophobic movies.

“You okay?” Damian asks. She snorts at the question. Nothing has changed, so of course she’s okay. But then, nothing has changed, so she’s not really okay.

“I did it,” she sighs. “It’s out there. I told her, unofficially. Whether or not she works it out…” She runs her hand through her tangled hair. “That’s something else entirely.” Damian hums in agreement, a sympathetic look on his face that soon morphs into a grin.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks Mom.” They snort, Janis caught between a laugh and a sob, and squeezes Damian’s hand. She’s not optimistic about any romance in her future, at least where Cady is concerned. She and Aaron are still rock-solid and she’s happy for them, whenever she isn’t angsting about it. It’s a weird combination to have.

And at least she’s done this now. Despite a future for her and Cady not being in the cards for now, she’s glad she did it. The secret isn’t out, not entirely. Just written on the walls in invisible ink.

“Come on,” she tells Damian. “I actually do have to get my bag, and you can use this as an opportunity to double check the ghost light is on.”

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

Cady and Aaron keep their promise and wait for them, waving off their apologies as they jog across the parking lot. Cady lets Damian take the front seat with Aaron and slides into the back with Janis instead. Janis frowns, confused as to why she isn’t taking her normal seat up front, and Cady rolls her eyes.

“There was a draw on the way here, and we lost,” she explains. “And now Damian has control of the aux chord,” She gestures with her head to the passenger seat, and Janis turns just in time to see him open his Spotify and scroll through his playlists. As the opening notes to Waving Through A Window fill the car, it’s met with three loud groans. Damian only turns it up louder, and adds in his own backing vocals.

“So, that song you sang,” Cady asks, leaning back in the seat. “Was it about anyone in particular?”

Janis looks down, her hands pressed together in her lap. If this is the moment the universe decided to give her, it’s a really terrible moment. Not only is Cady’s whole boyfriend sitting an arm’s length away from her, but she left her nerve back in the auditorium. Clearly, her and fate aren’t on each other’s wavelength.

“You wouldn’t know her,” she says. “She doesn't even go here.”

“Oh,” Cady replies. Her face falls, but she’s not too put out by it. Why would she be? She nudges Janis’ shoulder, a proud smile on her face, and squeezes Janis’ hand. “Well, if she has someone like you into her and she hasn’t taken the chance yet, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

Janis only thanks her, and quickly changes the subject.

Someday she might tell her for real, but for now she'll stick to the songs.

[popculturebuffet]

Ducktales: The Treasure of the Lost Lamp Movie Reviewcap! (Patreon Stretch Goal)

Hello all you happy people! And we have a special review today for two reasons. The first is that this is my second patreon stretch goal review, having hit the 15 dollar goal back in march thanks to my wonderful friend Emma, the same patreon whose responsible for the Green Eggs and Ham Reviews,  who helped me hit the 15 dollar goal.  As a result you fine people are getting three movie reviews each based on a Disney Afternoon Movie with Treasure of the Lost Lamp today, a goofy movie at the end of the motnh for  a weeklong tribute to my favorite dogmandadguy.  Extremley was going to be part of it but the length of this review convinced me otherwise, but I will be doing it this summer so keep an ear out. If you want to help me hit my next stretch goals do yourselve a favor and zip on over to my patreon YOU CAN FIND MY PATREON HERE. My next stretch goal at “OH Look 20 Dollars” would give everyone patreon and not, a monthly review of Darkwing Duck as decided by my patrons, reviews of BOTH season 2 mini series from Ducktales 87, introducing Fenton to the world and blighting it with Bubba before the 2017 series fixed him, and as a brucey bonus added last month a review of Danny Phantom the Ultimate Enemy. And if that wasn’t enough if you help me get to the goal after that at 25 unlocks another trilogy of disney film reviews, this time for the proud family and recess movie and the best kim possible movie, and dcom period, so the drama as well as Bryan Lee O’ Malley’s two stand alone graphic novels, lost at sea and seconds for you Scottaholics in the audience.

The other reason now the shilling’s done. is that the plan WAS to review this back to back with Treasure of The Found Lamp, to the point the orginal review had a whole thing about that, why it was delayed etc... but now that review’s been scrapped all together as something sudden and wonderful happened. After just kinda giving up someone came through with a translation of Della’s first apperance so presumibly i’ll be doing that as part of the build up to mother’s day, and since I still want ot do maternal instincts too, and already had to let the Floyd Gottfredson birthday special slide away as well... it had to go as I want to leave the only open space on the schedule for the lovely person who found the story for me. But this review is still done, i’m very proud of it so join me under the cut won’t you?

Behind The Scenes: Before I get into it i’d just like to note this article from SyFy Wire. It , along with articles I found via wikipedia citations, was an invaluable resource. 

The film was an experiment: It was an experiment to see if one of their tv properties could bring in theatrical money, to see if a movie made on a cheaper budget and still rake in decent money, to see if a film could be made being outsourced to several diffrent places, and to see what one of those places, their recently aquiried french stuido, could handle this kind of work. 

The film, if succesful would be the first of Disney’s MovieToons line, a series of films based on their shows. As you can tell by the fact only this movie and Goof Troop happened and the Movie Toons label wasn’t applied to that one it very much failed. While the film was warmly recevied by people who liked the show general audiences didn’t turn out for it. As a result the MovieToons label was scrapped, future projects with it were canceled.. but the stellar work put in by the french stuidio lead to it perserviering for several more decades and lead to them working on the Goofy Movie, which we’ll get to later this month but needless to say was a MUCH bigger hit with a much bigger budget. 

As for why the film failed... I have two theories. THe first is that parents were stupid back then and didn’t want to pay to see something on the big screen they could see on tv’s. This is a stupid mentality to me as generally a movie of a tv show puts in a ton of extra effort and usually goes bigger and dosen’t go home. It’s a likely theory given most liscened films of the era didn’t do quite well, with all three hasbro films tanking. And look I get Transformers the Movie is cheesy and killed a lot of people’s childhood toys, but damn if it ain’t aweosme.. and also something I need to cover at some point. Thankfully this died out by later in the 90′s with Rugrats getting a hugely succesful if flawed film, a better sequel and a third one that was also a crossover with the wild thornberries. 

And even now in 2020 we’re getting the Loud House and Rise of the TMNT movies sometimes this summer, we were SUPPOSED to have gotten the bobs burgers movie this summer but arne’t because Disney is being a dick about it.

And we got a phineas and ferb movie last year. With this trend hopefully thsi means we’ll get a Ducktales 2017 movie at some point since season 4 left a huge sequel hook laying right there to grab for a feature film.  One final note: The film was conceptually thought up as a 5 part serial like “Treasure of the Golden Suns”, “Catch as Cash Can”, “SuperDucktales” and “Time is Money, something that DOES show as the movie weirdly has act breaks. In a feature film. Yup. 

The Guest Cast:

I won’t go into the full cast since I’ve sung Alan Young and Russi Taylor’s praises PLENTY on this blog before, and I plan to go into Beakly and Launchpad’s actors when they show up in the pilot movie. But i’d be remiss if i didn’t talk about our three guest actors for our three new parts. 

First up is Merlock voiced by legend and if I had a hall of fame, hall of famer Christopher Lloyd.. I need to get me one of those. Lloyd is of course known for playing Doc Brown in back to the future but has done countless other films, voicework, and other good stuff. Among his MASSIVE filmography includes The Back to the Future Trilogy (Already mentioned it but it bears repeating), Star Trek III, Who Framed Roger Rabbit as the pants destroyingly terrifying Judge Doom, The Addams Family duology as fester, a role rip torn would ironcially play for the animated series made to captalize on said movie, Hey Arnold! The Movie, The Oogieloves in The Big Ballon Adventure (Look everybody needs money sometimes okay?), and Art of the Deal: The Movie, which was not, thankfully an ego filating nightmare made by trump himself but a film made by funny or die parodying his terrible book and having Llloyd return as Doc Brown. TV Wise he’s known for Taxi, Back to the Future the Animated Series, Cyberchase and he most recently popped up on Big City Greens. How I missed that ep I.. do know as I haven’t watched season 2. Gonna fix that later this month. Lloyd is utterly awesome, a great guy and thankfully still alive at the time of this writing, so I was happy to have him here. 

Less familiar to me but still known is Rip Taylor, a comedian known for his flamboyant unique way of speech and his marvelous mustache. He showed up in things occasionally and always seemed like the nicest guy and his passing in late 2019 truly is sad. He does a terrific job here but more on that in a moment. 

Finally we have Richard Libertini, a comedian I never really saw in anything besides this who according to IMDB was most famous for his ablility to do a foreign accent. I REALLY hope all of them aren’t as horribly racist as this one. We’ll.. get to that in a sec as it’s time for the plot!

A Treasure Uncovered:

We open our film gorgeously. The animation is great in the film, having some rough edges I chalk up to the film’s hectic production, the studio being new at working at disney properties, and the film not being meant for HD. That being said a few rough spots here and there aside.. the film looks ungodly gorgeous. Like most theatrical films based on a cartoon it takes an already great style and makes it look great. It feels like a more fluid evolution of the cartoons look and it’s a shame we didn’t get more movies in this style for both this show and others, ESPECIALLY Darkwing Duck. Can you imagine a Darkwing Duck movie with this lush animation? Hopefully we’ll get one eventually. 

So our heroes are going to somewhere in the Middle East. That’s.. that’s all wikipedia gives me and all the film gives me. As usual Scrooge is after treasure in this case the Treasure of Collie Baba, the greatest thief there ever was based obviously off Ali Baba from 1001 nights and that one Beastie Boys song. 

It’s here we find the WORST thing about the film, the thing that makes this a hard one to watch depsite otherwise being pretty good, and that makes my skin crawl knowing i’m a white man and a BUNCH of white guys, Ducktales series creator who did the voice casting for this character, the writers who wrote him, the direector disney them fucking selves who thought this was okay. 

The film has some horrible steroytping. It starts with a bunch of backgorund guys surronding Scrooge, with crooked teeth and steotypical voices. This on it’s own is odious. 

It somehow gets worse. Then we meet one of our antagonists. We meet Dijon. 

This Fucking Guy 

Djon is horribly offensive reminding me of other such luminaries in being ungodly offensive yet somehow getting put to film as Jar Jar Binks (With all respeect to his poor actor Ahmed Best, this is not his fault), Rob Schinder as a Sterotypically asian preist, Skids and Mudflap, Rob Schinder as a sterotypically mexican bandit, The Whitewashed cast of The Last Airbender, and Rob Schinder as a stereotypically asian preist. What i’m saying is Djon is an AWFUL, horribly offensive character.. and that Rob Schinder should be shot up into space, not to watch cheesy movies, he’s not funny enough for that, but instead to be sent to a satlitie that’s liveable, but also filled to the brim with spring loaded boxing gloves. Just tons of boxing gloves that feel like getting punched by a heavewight boxer all hidden... they could hit his legs, his face, his nuts, his face and his nuts, the point is he’s in constnat pain unless he moves carefully. 

And lest you think i’m exaggerating for starters this is his design. 

It just screams “vaugely but sterotpyically middle eastern” along with cowardly. The fact he’s also a literal rat is just the icing on the cake made of broken glass, shrapnel and broken DVD’s of Transformers; Revenge of the Fallen. They say if you eat a reveng eof the fallen dvd John Tutoro appears at the foot of your bed and watches you while you sleep.. and by they I mean me. It was a bad bet. I got rid of him with some insese and a bribe of five dollars. 

Oh but that’s just design.. when he talks it’s MUCH worse. His voice is like if they took Apu from the simpsons and said “This but MORE offensive”, and his perosnality is WORSE. He’s a thief.. and not in the endearing loveable rogue way but he’s a pick pocket and a running “Gag’ is that he’ll often grab eveyrthing within reahc. As the deisgn shows he’s a coward running at every opportunity. Oh and to top it all off he’s the willing servant of the white coded, given all ducks in this series are white coded and voiced bby white actors, big bad. And the actor is naturally VERY white to make this cocktail of offensivness so complete that if Disney ever got rid of this film I GUARANTEE the republcian party would be running in with accusations of cancel culture gone amok and never shutting up about this like they did the muppets. Which for the record THEY DIDN’T CANCEL THEM, YOUR POINT IS ILLEGITMATE, THEY JUST WANTED TO BE SENSTIVE YOU GHOULS. 

I do have a reason for bringing up Disney’s content warnings... most damming of all given just how DEEPLY uncomfortbale this character is.. there isn’t one for this movie. I double checked: There isn’t even wanring notes on the website. It’s just.. on there. And given just how ghastly a sterotype Djon is.. that’s not right. Seriously they DID put them on certain episodes of the show, theyk now this sort of thing is wrong and they done wrong.. but for NO reason they haven’t done so for a film released 31 years ago. Around the same time as the series and just offensive as that show at it’s worst if not more so. This is flatly inexcusable.. par for the course for Disney’s incompetence but still horribly furstrating, disgusting and shameful.. which has been the theme of the last three days really. I expect better because when it comes to putting that warning label on this stuff, they usually are better. First the scheduling mixup and now this. You already do a handful of things wrong Disney why add this to the list?!

It’s just draining not only to run into another Disney Fuckup after a weekend of dealing with one of their worst in recent memory, but just to watch Djon. To see this horrible caractrure saunter onto the screen and go on with his harmful schtick, to see that THIS is what Ducktales 87 reduced non white people to more often than not.  It’s remarkable just how throughly and awesomely Frank and Matt completely and totally reversed this. Instead of horrible sterotypes in the reboot, we got TONS of loveable people of color, an endearing latino hero, a smart african american buisness woman who takes no shit but is still a consumate professional, and an egyptian HERO with an intresting story and a strong moral code instead of this horrible reminder that racisim in media was such an afterthought not ONE person brought this up during the scyfy wire stuff or in any inteview i’ve seen. No one cared. Djon was POPULAR enough that he got three episode sin the series. THREE FUCKING EPISODES. This film could be GOOD.. but it’s just so bogged down EVERY FUCKING TIME this artists interpreitation of what Tucker Carlson sees when he looks at a middle eastern person I had to pause to compose myself and had to take a break writing this review to avoid tyiping this in all caps and using the phrase YOU RACIST MOTHERFUCKERS every other sentence. And again i’m white, I get this is second hand offensiveness.. I do... but it dosen’t mean I can’t be offended other white people were so callous about other cultures behaviors this happened.

And what makes me feel worse.. is that I just sorta... never thought about white people voicing non white characters. Things like this I noticed sure, I realize now part of the reason I didn’t like this movie the first time I saw it was this alex jones version of a looney tune, but I do feel shame for not noticing or caring long before this. Sure I loved it when a character of color got played by a person of color.. but I didn’t realize just how deep that problem was and how LONG it went on for before the outcry post george floyd and the call to action lead to most shows still going course correcting. It’s why stuff like this extra botehrs me: because THIS was just as okay at the time. No one blinked twice about this and odds are the creators involved still haven’t. And that.. that’s just terrible and it hurts to think about and  I still have most of the movie to go.  

The Pyramid of Peril:

So we do get a gorgeous unvewling scene of a box Scrooge found out about from Collie Baba’s horde that should lead them to the treasure. This scene reminds me of Indina Jones.. and I bring this up because the poster was specifically made to mimick an indinia jones poster, to the point of getting drew struzan to do it. THe creator of Ducktales objected..l but I do not get WHY. While I”m not sure if he had yet, Speilberg flat out admits the Carl Barks comics were an inspiration for Indina Jones, with the iconic bolder chase coming from a similar scene in one of Barks Stories. Gotta cover that too. So yeah I don’t get not wanting an indina jones style poster when both were inspiried by the same work and it’s just simple logic and it looks so neat. Thank you. 

Scrooge finds seemingly just clothes.. and a map. Jeff Dunham’s Most Racist Puppet reports to his master, Merlock. Merlock is a.. meh villian. Christopher Lloyd does try.. but Lock is your standard evil overlord wants to take over the world type. He dosen’t have much depth, or personality and only his style saves him from dragging the film down along with Dana Carvey’s most racist disguise in master of disguise. He does have a deent shape shifting gimick and being played by Christopher Lloyd means he’s acted TREMENDOUSLY. Alan Young was apparently in awe watching him work and that’s wonderful to hear. The guy did his best. Weirdly Merlock would show up in tons of other works, mostly video games.. but even weirder he NEVER showed up in ducktales 2017. Both Djon and Gene would, Djon thankfully renamed we’ll get to all of that tommorow thank god. I need it after this. But Frank has outright said they didn’t use Merlock because there simply wasn’t anything they could do with him they couldn’t dow ith magica. My likely guess is the might of found a way to revamp him EVENTUALLY, it’s not like radical revamps weren’t there thing come on, they just had way more stories with Magica and didnd’t get around to it before the show was canceled. Just make him some sort of evil god or something. it’s what I might do. There’s a lot of angles with him. Though I would’ve still gotten christopher lloyd back. I mean most of the recasting is good but he’s still alive and deserved a better shot at things. 

So Merlock sends Djonn to go with scrooge as his guide to find the treasure, as there’s something of imense power within it. And I gotta ask WHY does Merlock need a minon. No really. This isn’t a situation like reboot magica where he’s trapped in another realm. He can shapeshift into any animal. We only see him use falcon, rat, cockroach and bear but theoritically he can become anything and bear alone is still a LOT. Why does he need this sterotype even other sterytopes ar eashamed of? The film dosen’t NEED Djonn. Just let Christopher Lloyd monologue and leave this post 911 propogranda cartoon at home. 

So our heroes nad rejected jar jar prototype head into the desert, and seemingly find nothing before finding a small pyramid all while Merlock follows desecretley as a mighty hawk. 

Scrooge makes the boys and Djon dig... because they clearly forgot the “work hard” part of his ethos. 

Our heroes unveil the pyramid... and while Merlock SAYS he searched the desert and I get it’s hard to see thourgh all of that.. the dude is immortal, had decades to search and had Mickey Rooney there on standby to force him to go comb the desert. I have an artist rendering of that hang on

So our heroes enter the pyramid and it goes.. really how you’d expect: there’s a bunch of traps our brave explorers have to pass, the boys minintpret a juinor woodchuck saying about loosing your marbles to mean using the ones they actually have which geninely comes in handy as they trip the traps and Rob SChinder as a carrot stumbles into one. Also launchpad is wearing a hawaiin shirt and shades. This has no baring on the plot, but it does bring the movie up a notch in my book and I question why the reboot never used this outfit. Then again they also never properly used Donald’s Quack Pack Outfit (Which bad show or not, is objectively awesome), or his Quack Shot Indiana Jones Riff Outfit, so  it’s not like there isn’t a presdecnt for not giving a character a cool costume change from a previous medium. I really should do a top 12 missed opportunities list for the 2017 cartoon.. the ideas for stuff are really piling up. 

OUr heroes eventually find the treasure which has insidiously clever security the more I think about it: at first I thought it had none, just a pit with some... scorpions? I mean their supposed to be but they look like they crawled out of the same stygian hole in the sky Doofus crawled out of. And if your asking me “wait which Doofus” the answer is both. Both these abominations crawled out of a stygian hole in the sky.

But the treasure is on a platform surrounded by scoprions with the only way out being the trap filled way they came in. Unless someone comes in with a full team and a bunch of lootin sacks, they aren’t getting out with EVERYTHING. They can steal SOME of the treasure but there’s no way to get any signifigant portion... and the team thing itself is an issue, something Collie defintely predicted being a thief himself: while some thieves can work well as a team, hence why we have four oceans movies 3/4 damn good, and for the record 12 is the bad one, 8 is how you do a soft reboot and a female led reboot right, a good chunk of professional crooks will turn on each other or try and swinldle... and tha’ts dangerous in a trap filled temple but hey some criminals ain’t so smart.  If they all were Rudy Gulliani wouldn’t have two razzies for preparing to pull his pants down, and have waved his phone around on tv like a dare for future adminstrations to arrest the shit out of him would he? 

But Scrooge has his family so they get loading. But not before Webby finds the lamp. Not knowing about it Scrooge has no intrest in it, but Webby does. We also get a really simple but hilarious gag where SCrooge dickers over the idea for a second.. before Webby picks up a Jeweled tiara to possibly take instead. The best gags to me are often the ones that just let the character’s perosnalities take the lead and bounce off each other. It’s why when I reviewed the four lilo and stitch crossovers recently I harped on character interaction as their biggest weakness: it’s what MAKES a good work for me. It’s why my faviorite comics and shows often follow a loveable group of disfunctional misfits. I like a group of big personalities who despite in theory should NOT be able to work making it work anyway. And it’s honeslty what’s made Scrooge last so long: Scrooge on his OWN is awesome.. but iwth the boys, donald, and in the case of this series and the reivival Webby and Launchpad, with people to bounce off of who he contrasts heavily with, from Launchapd’s buffonery to Webby’s inehrent sweetness in both versions, to the boys genuine honesty and sense of adventure.... it makes him truly stand out. He’s a great character on his own, don’t get me wrong.. but it’s the people around him that give him chances to show WHY. A good character on it’s own is fine and dandy.. a good character with other good characters around them is where it gets truly special. 

Merlock naturally bursts in and in a VERY Black Heron move needlesly outs what micheal bay sees when he closes his eyes as a bad guy... no really he grabs the guy with his talons as he captures the treasure and reveals he’s a bad guy. I don’t even get why keep Djonn alive. He’s done all Merlock possibly could’ve needed and Merlock is ruthless... this makes no sense and only happens because they need Djonn for later in the plot.

Our heroes barely escape, rafting out on the platform itself in a thrilling sequence.. but it’s the one right after that catches my attention. Scrooge utterly defeated, having searched for this treasure for forty years and unresponsive to everyone else. The anmation, coupled with the incomprable Alan young’s acting makes this the highlight of the film for me. Beneath the armor of wealth and skill.. is only a poor old man who just lost something he’s been chasing after most of his life. Scrooge tries his hardest not to be vunerable and both shows and the original comics all use that so when he truly is devistated like this, and i’ts belivible since this treasure is a personal goal of his and as someone who has had things that they seek out specifically, loosing them always hurts. It hurts to ALMOST reach a goal only to have it crumble out under you

But while this alone is good.. what’s next makes it great. Webby sweetly offers up the lamp. Scrooge turns it down, and her genuine gesture reinvgorates him and reminds us of who he is “I’ll find it if it takes another 40 years”> Scrooge may be bitter, mean and selfish a lot of the time.. but deep down, he’s a good man and one who will not give up, and a momentary setback can only stop him so long as long as he has his family to remind him of who he truly is.. and what’s truly important. It’s genuinely sweet and to me is also a reminder of why 87 Webby is a good character: Shes’ not perfect, her main personality trait is often Girl Sterotype”.. but she’s a genuinely sweet small child with a huge heart. It’s telling that while 17′ Webby is almost completely diffren,t and far better, that heart remains her biggest strength. Sure her reboot self could kill a man nad no one would ever find the body, but it’s her heart and empathy that makes that possible and makes her Webby.  That inherent loving nature is what makes Webby webby wether she’s a toddler having a tea party or a tween getting ready to intergoate a guy with a meat tenderizer while saying ‘Cute girl stuff”. 

Gene Genie Let’s Himself Go:

It’s a few days later and this is the point where it REALLY becomes obvious this was written as a bunch of episodes. Though to the film’s credit while it does ake this feel like a compliation movie as a result... it dosen’t hamper the film’s quality, condiment from Rush Limbaghs’ hot dog stand does that just fine, but once you notice it it’s impossible to unotice it. Weirdly though it seems chunked up into four episodes rather than the usual five, likely cutting down an episode, though I can’t see where they cut out material frankly if they did and i’ts just as likely they woudl’ve had to make one to fill in the space.

So Scrooge is in a mood, being grumpy with his secretary Mrs. Featherly, quackfaster in all but name, and having to be sent home. So while Duckworth goes to fetch him Webby polishes her treasure at long last readying for a tea party, something the boys roundly reject because their sexist little twits and swo were the writers or executies who assumed all little boys act the same. It’s easily my biggest pet peeve with the series as a whole: anytime this crops up with the boys it turns them into the worst dicks imaginable. It’s telling this, being mean about her wantin ga tea party with her surrogate brothersi s TAME. Normally they’ll say she can’t do things because she’s a girl or mock her hobies outright instead of just be mildly dickish. And while she dosen’t look much younger Webby is VERY CLEARLY, in this series anyway, supposed to be say 5 or 6 to the boys 8-10. 7 at most. SHe’s a small child and while it is realistic for older kids to bully younger ones, it’s not fun to watch. It’s why I get annoyed at all the big sibling bully characters.. some work, but most aren’t fun to watch because there’s nothing funny or intresting about it. It’s the same deal here. 

Thankfully that quickly goes away as the lamp moves when Webby rubs it and does so again to prove it did move. Huey finishes it and we’re introduced to Gene, the best part of the film.  Gene is a Genie and he takes a second to dart around before messing with the appliances in the kitchen, as he was last around during the time 1001 Nights Came About. Cleverly though, and so we thankfully don’t have 80 dozen fishout of water jokes that have already been done before. As you can probably guess i’m not a huge fan of time travel fish out of water stuff. Now from another dimensoin or planet, i’m on board with with Star Vs, Steven Universe and Sym-Bionic Titan being great examples of this, as is the comic resident alien. (Despite having the wonderous Alan Tuduk the show sounds way more mean spirited and misses the entire point of the comic as given by the author in the credits, i.e. that the alien is supposed to NOT be a threat and just be gently waiting for a ride) The inverse is also good with Amphbia and owl house, taking a human and plopping them into our world. But time travel stuff just usually runs the same beats of “look at the shiny thing” and what not. The only time i’ve sene something SIMILAR work is with thor where their society is SIMILAR to vikings time but still it’s own thing.. it also gave us a classic gag in..

So yeah i’m glad they dropped this and instead had a clever way around it: Gene reads the encylopedia at the mansion. Granted it’s Scrooge so I don’t know how current it is and given this came out in 1990 thus HOW racist it is. It’s not a questoin of IF it was, but how much.

But having caught up the kids confront him with the fact he has to grant wishes. This lamp runs on what I now realize are Aladdin rules: Whoever currently holds the Lamp is the Genie’s master, they only get three wishes, and that dosen’t reset if it changes hands. The only big diffrence from the usual is Gene dosen’t have to TELL them about the wishes like Genie did, and Gene very begrudginly agrees to it. He also seem’s phsyically pained when doing so. 

So since all 12 know about him, each of the kids gets a wish though it seems unfair with HDL. Their one person, they shoudln’t get 9 wishes just because their brain is spread out over three bodies. 

This film continues the weird simliarties to Aladdin by attaching rules though they instead come up as a result of our heroes talking rather than the Genie just flat out tleling them: both share the “you can’t wish for more wishes” thing, a common rule in these stories and usually only broken nowadays as a clever twist as the rule is SO common place, not having it is a twist. But it is there for a reason: to limit the sheer power of a reality warping wish. The wishes can also only go so far. In a nice line, when Huey, Dewey or Louie suggests wishing for peace one earth, Gene says “No pipe dreams’ He can’t bend people or reality on THAT scale. He can bend reality as we find out, but it’s smaller scales like turning someone’s possesions over ot someone else, warping the bin into a castle, or bringing inanitamte objects to limited life. Still HUGE feats worth of a genie, so Gene’s power isn’t so nerfed it’s unusuable, but it does explain why his evil pervious ownder Merlock, more ont hat in a bit too, didn’t just wish to have eternal dominon over the earth or something. Gene can do just about anything but he can’t change the world on a fundemental level. 

And I do LIKE having rules in wished based stories like this, I chalk it up to growing up with Fairly Odd Parents... though they eventually went too far in the oppsoitie direction, pulling rules out of their ass to suit the episode, instead of simply having some very standard, very understandable rules that still pose challenges but don’t outright cheat so the episode can happen. 

So Webby does her first wish.. and wishes for a Baby Elephant, something Gene is against as he prefers they keep the wishes small: otherwise he gets found out, and the fight over him begins. So one of the boys wishes him away. Or Webby does. Point is it’s gone though not before Beakly sees it and Scrooge smells something is up. Our heroes try to hide gene, but gene thankfully simply dresses up like a modern kid and thus is able to pass as a friend of there staying for the night. 

So with the rules established and what not the kids find a clever solution: they simply go a ways away from the mansion into the woods, far enough from town to avoid any suspcion, and same iwth the mansion and just wish for all kinds of stuff: a giant bunch of ice cream toys, standard kid wish fufillment but it’s nice... in part because the kids treat Gene like one of them. Wihle they STARTED asking him about the wishes, this starts the bonding process. Soon he will be part of the hive mind.. SOON. 

Until then though after using another wish to make scrooge not mad at them for coming home late and missing dinner, that night we find out Gene’s backstory.... and it’s an utter tearjerker. As it turns out Merlock wants him back because he’s Gene’s former master and as you’d guess.. it was NOT a happy existnace, used contstnatly to do horrible things with no power to stop himself. Pompeii and Atlantis were both directly Merlock’s fault and it was only Collie Baba stealing the lamp that put an end to his hell. He also answers the two obvious questions botht he audeiince and the boys have: How the hell is Merlock still alive and shoudln’t he be out of wishes then? The first is simple. Unlike pretty much every DBZ Villian whose WANTED to do so, Merlock wished for immortality first chance he got, taking the Zamasu route instead and thus leaving him free. 

As for the wishes thing it turns out his amulet, in adition to shapeshifting, also gives him extra wishes becuase fuck it. 

But the boys sweetly offer to protect him. 

The next day, Apu’s Cousin let’s Merlock know the maps in the mansion and Merlock has him help sneak in with Merlock taking rat form. This backfires as Mrs. Beakley notices the form and chases after him with a broom

Meanwhile Webby has her tea party with Gene after he and the boys played cops and robbers earlier, and he’s bored.. though nicely not because it’s a girly thing, but because the stuffed animals aren’t alive and she naively has him fix that. This leads to 

Which sadly is jsut scrooge vs a duck toy but admit it, you want that movie for Disney Plus yesterday. Call Charles Band Disney. CALL CHARLES BAND! 

Whelp Scrooge Still Sucks:

Scrooge takes for a turn for the obnoxious in the next part, but i’ts fine by me as it’s part of the plot. Naturally this reinactment of Cult of Chucky has lead to Scrooge finding out about the Genie. To his credit, Scrooge is tactical about his wishes. As said by the Duck himself “I could wish for a diamond, no the world’s biggest dimaond, no ten world’s biggest diamond, no a diamond mind, no the MINING INDUSTRY!”

The sheer power this gives him is TERRIFYING, both because of his status.. and because unlike the kids who all wished for simple kid stuff and used up their wishes quickly, he both gets how much he can do with this and could conquer the world economy if he truly wanted to. 

The obnoxious part comes in as he treats Gene as not a person, figuring he’s just there and forces him into the lamp despite the kids protests after Gene grants his first wish: Collie Baba’s treasure. It also dosen’t feel like the wishing nor him using the lamp to get the tresure back goes against his hard work ethos: for the former while he is getting all this magically, he’s still having ot use his wits to get the most out of it, and he did earn the lamp itself square. For the latter, he already earned the treasure square too and had it stolen. He’s onlyg etting back what’s by all rights HIS. Granted he plans on giving most of it up for a tax break but still it’s his by right. 

However the reason his assholery works is twofold: first it’s Scrooge. While he’s not a TERRIBLE person, in the comcis and this cartoon he isn’t a GOOD person either. He DOES have a good heart and will usually do the right thing, but his first instnct is always to get more money and to be a cantakerous old bastard to eveyrone and everything. While he’s subtly grew out of “I hate eveyrone and everyone hates me” as his guiding principal, it’s still his defualt reaction to most situations. But he first relents by letting Gene attend the party, part of why the Collie Baba thing stung so bad was that he’s told the historical society he’d get the treasure for years only to come back empty handed, if shrunken. But he still manages to have a good time while Asok and Merlock infiltrate.. well I’mRunningOutofINsultingNIcknamesCanYouTell steals the silverware. Yes... that.. that really happens. 

Look we’re almost done, i’m almost free of this racist mummies curse. Let’s continue. Gene sees melock and freaks and drags SCrooge with him and while at First Scrooge is cranky...

No but now I want a Donkey Kong Country crossover too dammmit. And to talk about those games. Another thing for the list. But Scrooge is righ tot be a bit surly...

Okay now your just pushing it. As Gene whisked him away without telling him anything other than vauge worries... but then he gets a full idea of why Gene’s so terrified when Merlock shapeshifts into a bear and starts breaking the door down. Eh, could be worse. 

Gene shrinks them to escape and Merlock leaves thinking they fled but leaves Skids Minus Mudflap to go look for them. Scrooge sneaks out but bumps into a cart running from the photo you see when you look up stereotype on google. I mean I assume.. let’s try it. 

Huh you know I HOPED but I never expected... 

So Google Proving My Point plans to give his lamp to the master because of his weird Torgo-Esque obession with helping a man who clearly wants to murder him but takes his sweet time doing so because plot, and Gene figuring this COULDN’T POSSIBLY go as bad as Melock getting him urges the dummy to keep him and make his own wishes.

This goes about as well as you’d expect....

Wiped Out With A Wish:

Scrooge returns home to find Watto has wished to take his poessions, fortune, everything and Scrooge gets thrown in jail for breaking into his own house. We get two great moments back to back. The first is Scrooge lamenting loosing his fortune in jail, and realizing the sheer power and risk of the lamp, especially since he worked hard to earn it, every bit of it.. and Sam Wilson’s 70′s Backstory came in and took it all in an instant. 

The second is Scrooge’s family coming for him, including Launchpad , Beakly and Webby obviously and bailing him out. Though Beakly is UNGOLDLY annoying in this scene, sobbing hysterically and adding nothing and it’s not nearly as funny as the  film thinks. Turns out Goliath getting buried wrapped in chains threw them out. 

Scrooge takes a bit to rebound from all this.. but eventually realizes something: he knows the security of the bin inside and out. He had it put in after all. So it’d be easy enough to break in. So they gotta break in to break out the lamp, undo this nightmare, and END THIS MOVIE. Seriously this review has taken two days  as is I do NOT want to miss my invincible review. 

So they break into the bin, and it’s a tightly paced Scene, scrooge going in one way while the kids go the other and we even get a nice callback as the marbels come in handy to get past one of the traps. It’s just a good scene. it’s only real flaw is that Launchapd just sorta disappears as does Duckworth despite the fact their in a plane, and the bin later gets turned into a floating castle. Kinda a plot hole to not have Launchpad crash in to save htem just saying. 

Scrooge eventually does get to Djonn, whose been ignoring the imminent threat of Merlock while Gene sweats it out... and this backfires horribly as Merlock hitched a ride as a roach (Though there was a hilarious scene of him getting fried constnatly by lasers when Louie went through a laser hallway, as while Louie had the directions, it dind’t take into account passengers on your head. 

So Merlock remanifests in full gets the Lamp and unleashes his wrath on Tin Tin in the Congo and turns him into a wild pig. 

Not you sweetie. He then forces Gene to turn the castle into a fortress and float it back to his home in parts unknown. It’s a DAMN cool scene with impressive and horrifiing animation as the bin melts and crumbles into thte castle and the kids barely make it up the stares as they shift and disolve. Really top notch stuff.

Scrooge stands up to Merlock... and this naturally goes poorlyw ith Gene begging Merlock not to respond.. and Merlock having him blow scrooge off the top of the forgtess storm eagle style, though scrooge understands. And this is the true reason why scrooge being a dick didn’t bother me so much. Because it helps create a great contrast between him and Merlock. Both thought of Gene as a tool rather than a person.. but Scrooge grew to realize he was wrong and what he was dealing with wasn’t some magical goodies creator.. but a child forced to constantly grant wishes, in sheer agony to do so no less, likely so sick of it because again and again and again people used him as a slave to get what they wanted and to hell with what Gene wanted. He realized he was terrible for making this poor boy into his slave simply because that’s his job. In contrast Merlock could give no shits and is a malevolent monster who glefully uses Gene despite the pain the wishes put him through and his protests. It’s why Gene is the best part.. he’s  athroughly likeable, throughly inncoent character with tons of personality and a truly tragic and horrifying backstory and Rip Taylor acts the hell out of every scene with the guy. 

Thankfully the marbles come in handy one last time and Huey, Dewey or Louie snipes the lamp away and a struggle for it insues between Scrooge and Merloc mid air. it’s fucking awesome.. and it get sbetter in how scroogewins. He simply gets rid of Merlock’s amulet, taking it then throwing it. Grante dhe COULD’EVE used it for unimited wishes.. but it was too risky to do that and as we’ll see in the ending , Scrooge realized the Lamp was too powerful to keep around for much longer and too much of a tempting target for his rogues.. not that we see them this movie as the crew wanted it to bea ccesaible and thus kept hte cast to the main cast from season 1 and just made new vilians and a new supporting character, but still. 

He does use his second wish though to undue the damage Merlock had done and the bin and clan mcduck are returned to duckburg in good condition.

Time for our ending, which is genuinely and wholly touching. With the lamp too dangerous to use Scrooge considers just sending it to the earth’s core, which horrifies the kids as it’d mean Gene would be trapped there forever... if the molten lava iddn’t just outright destory the lamp and probably kill him. But Scrooge.. isn’t the bastard he likes to potray himself as. Instead he makes Gene into a real boy. He gives the poor kid HIS wish, which designrates the lamp and undoes all the spells... so Merlock is PROBABLY dead but he does return for some games so maybe not? 

And so we end on two things: Gene happily playing cops and robbers with the boys finally free.. and Birth of A Nation grabbing all the loot he can in his patns and running off. Ha ha ha thank god i’m done with this prick. And no I will not be looking at his ducktales episodes unless I have to. 

Final Thoughts:

This movie is OKAY. It has a solid plot, gene is a wonderful chacter, the animatoin is pretty prettay pretty good, and the voice acting as usual is excellent, with Rip Taylor being the standout. 

But as my paragraphs of rage shoud’ve made Clear Djonn is just BAD. Easily the worst character i’ve encountered in my year of reviewing and some of the worst writing i’ve ran into. And that writing includes a goblin man voyerstically forcing two teenagers to make out, making jokes about santa renaming himself Clem the sceneafter he tearfully confessed to letting the elves and ms. claus die, accidental transphobia via the u-men, and Bryan Lee O malley thinking we needed more than one volume of Julie Powers being around.  This was disgusting, even by 1990 standards and especially by 2021 standards and it drags the film down considerably. Without it the film is okay.. with it the film is just VERY hard to watch any time he pops up.  He made getting through the movie a nightmare and while I pause a lot becaue it’s a bad habbit I did so more simply because as I said earlier in the review I could not stand him. 

It makes it a hard film to recommend. If you can stomach the racisim, then it might be worth it, but be aware of what your putting up with going in. But if you can’t.. there’s no shame in that, it’s carbombya levels of bad. Which yes was a real fictoinal country. It was so bad Casey Casem quit transformers over it. True story. So yeah, it’s an okay film, on par with the series at it’s best for the most part.. but Djonn just spoils it for me. 

If you liked this review, like it, share it around that sort of thing and if you want MORE disney movie reviews, in addiiton to the goofy movie one later this month, if you help me hit my 25 dollar stretch goal on patroen.com/popculturebuffet, i’ll do reviews of the Recess, Proud Family and Kim Possible MOvies (Well so the drama anyway), so help me out would you and i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

[dancedance-resolution]

here's my design for goty 2022 (in an au where copyright isn't an issue)

FACTS

name: nia mahdi

age: 11

ethnicity: persian

religion: muslim

family: nia is an only child. she was born in charlottesville, va, after parents immigrated there from iran.

notes: nia is autistic and trans <3

DOLL

face mold: nia would get a new face mold that is designed based on ethnically persian features

skin tone: 25 ("tan skin with warm neutral undertones")

eye color: dark brown

freckles: yes

hair cut: wavy, very long (kanani length)

hair color: dark brown

meet outfit: a trans pride flag colored scrunchy for her hair, a light blue zip-up sweatshirt that says "i am proud to be autistic" on the back, this t-shirt (a light blue t-shirt with fan art of dreamer with a trans pride flag cape) beneath that sweatshirt, these shorts (pastel plaid knee-length shorts), lindsey's striped leggings beneath those shorts, and sperry shoes

meet accessories: bright purple ear defenders, an AAC tablet, a doll-sized version of the 2021 dc pride comic book, this pink kryptonite chewelry

BOOK 1

(these books would have three authors - me, an author who is muslim and a second generation immigrant, and an author who is a trans woman of color. the reason for three authors is so that we can tell nia's story authentically - i'm autistic and have autism gender like nia, the second author is muslim and an immigrant like nia, and the third author is specifically a trans woman of color like nia.)

in chapter 1 we'll briefly go over this background information:

nia came out to her parents as trans on the car ride home from the last day of first grade. she chose the name "nia" because she wanted to name herself after nia nal, a character on her favorite show (supergirl) because nia nal is trans like she is, nia nal is an alien (and nia mahdi oftentimes feels like an alien around other humans), and nia nal is a really cool superhero! (unspoken: nia nal is nia mahdi's special interest.)

it took nia mahdi's parents a little bit of time to wrap their heads around her truth, but soon, they fully accepted nia for who she is.

that summer, her parents informed nia's school of her correct name, pronouns, and gender. and nia started growing out her hair, and she's never cut it since! nia loves her long hair.

when nia started second grade, nia's classmates sometimes accidentally called her by the wrong name and pronouns, but they always apologized and corrected themselves when nia pointed out their mistake. a few kids were confused, but once nia explained that she knows she's a girl just as well as you know you're a boy/girl, they all understood and accepted her :)

now onto the real content of the first book, which takes place from september to december:

nia's just started sixth grade at a new middle school. it's really loud, big, and hard. but she has a friend, ender. ender doesn't speak english well (he moved to america from turkey just last year), but that's okay because nia has trouble speaking sometimes too.

one day, nia's parents take her to a doctor, and she has to answer a lot of questions and take a lot of tests.

a few weeks later, nia's parents sit her down and tell her that she has been diagnosed with autism.

nia researches autism and feels very relieved and validated. (unspoken: autism becomes one of nia's special interests.)

at school, nia gets some cool accomodations: she's allowed to wear ear defenders at lunch and in the hallways, she can keep a tablet in her backpack to use for AAC when necessary, and she can use the school's sensory break room when necessary.

one time, nia gets very upset after receiving a "bad grade" on a reading test. a few of the questions asked her to identify characters' emotions, motivations, etc., and nia wants to explain to her teacher that her autism makes "emotional reading between the lines" hard for her. but she's so upset that her mouth isn't working properly, so she uses her AAC to talk to the teacher.

after that, one of nia's classmates makes a rude comment about her AAC. speaking through her AAC, nia explains to him why she uses her AAC. she stands up for herself.

in her free time, nia keeps researching autism and disability justice advocacy. she begins to think that her friend ender might be autistic too - he has a lot of autistic traits, and she's never felt alien around him in the way she does around most people.

she tells ender about her theory. ender says he's not sure whether or not he thinks he's autistic. but he does know that the hallways are far too loud, and he would like to be able to wear ear defenders like nia. so nia lends ender her spare pair of ear defenders.

the next day at lunch, ender gives nia back her ear defenders and reveals that he got in trouble for wearing in the hallway. the teacher thought he was wearing headphones and listening to music (which isn't allowed), and ender couldn't remember the english words to explain to her that they were just to shield him from the noise.

nia wants to help ender be able to wear defenders. she schedules a meeting with the guidance counselor. together, she and ender explain to the guidance counselor that ender just wants to wear ear defenders in the loud hallways. the counselor says that ender can't do that since he doesn't have an official accommodations letter.

nia leaves the office very upset. she knows from her research that autism diagnoses are very expensive and hard to get. she wants to find a way to get ender this accommodation without an official letter.

so nia makes a plan: she and ender write a long essay explaining why ender should be allowed to wear ear defenders.

they present the essay to the counselor, and she's convinced by their arguement. ender is now allowed to wear ear defenders in the hallway :)

to celebrate their victory, nia buys ender bright purple ear defenders (the same type she has) so that they can match :)

and that's the end of book 1

BOOK 2

book 2 takes place from january to march

nia goes on puberty blockers. nia's glad that she won't have to go through male puberty, but she also feels weird about it. nia is very excited to start wearing a hijab, and her mom says that she can start wearing a hijab when she goes through puberty and transitions from being a girl to being a woman. so, if nia isn't going through puberty now, when will she get to start wearing a hijab?

nia talks to ender about her problem. ender suggests that she should talk to her mom about it.

nia talks to her mom about her concerns. nia's mom explains that the shift from girl to woman involves more than just her body changing: it involves growth, strength of spirit, and learning about oneself. nia's mom will be able to tell when she's ready to start wearing the hijab, even if nia isn't going through puberty. nia feels a lot better now.

the next day at lunch, nia tells ender the good news. he is very happy for her. he then tells nia that he's scared of puberty too. he asks nia how she knew she was a girl, and nia explains how it was this strong internal feeling. ender reveals that he feels like he's not a boy or a girl. he's afraid that that means he's weird or broken. nia explains that he's not weird or broken - some people are non-binary, which means that they're not fully a boy or fully a girl. ender really likes that word. nia also tells ender that some non-binary like to use the gender-neutral pronouns "they/them" and asks ender if he would like her to start using those pronouns for him. ender says that he's not sure. he likes he/him pronouns, he thinks, at least for now. nia smiles and tells him that she's proud of him.

the spring dance is in march. nia and her mom go shopping for an oufit. at first, nia drifts towards the pretty dresses. she loves how they look and feels great in them, but she wants to try on suits too. she feels a little bit insecure when she realizes that she loves how she looks in the suit too. (plus, this navy suit will go better with her purple ear defenders than the colorful dresses will.) she's scared that her classmates will think she's not a "real girl" if she comes to the dance in a suit, but then she remembers her conversation with ender - when ender asked her how she knew she's a girl, her answer was that it was just something she knew. her gender isn't defined by her clothing preferences - she's just as much of a real girl in this suit as in those dresses. so nia buys the suit, and she feels very happy and confident.

at the dance, she finds that ender is wearing a skirt (and a tuxedo shirt and blazer). she runs up to him, and they both happy stim. they have a lot of fun dancing and snacking on cheez its together.

BOOK 3

book 3 takes place from april to june

the main plot of book 3 is going to be nia's grandmother visiting from iran for three months. nia learns a lot of new information about her family culture.

in june, to celebrate the end of the school year, nia's school has a multi-cultural night.

ender signs up to bring in some traditional turkish food and share some of the poetry his dad has written in turkish. he encourages nia to sign up for multi-cultural night too!

so nia signs up.

together, nia and her grandmother cook a ton of traditional iranian food to share at the celebration. she and her grandmother also work together to sew a special kaftan for nia.

the night of the celebration, nia dresses up in her kaftan and grabs the containers of food. as she's getting ready to leave, her father asks her to stop so he can take a picture of her. her mother says, "wait! i have one other thing for the picture!" (but spoken in faarsi). she emerges with a hijab for nia. she helps nia put on the hijab and tells nia that she's seen how nia's grown into a woman this past school year (aka, over the course of these 3 books). nia is so happy that she cries.

at the multi-cultural night, everyone loves the food and nia's kaftan and hijab. when ender sees nia's hijab, he starts happy stimming, and nia starts happy stimming too.

that's all my plans for goty 2022!

[palettepainter]

Gonna post some Zoophobia art here to tumblr since I always seem to forget So what started off as sketches turned into a small headcannon I made for Francesca, her older design in my NGAU has since been updated compared to when I first drew her. I changed up her hair style and clothes to give her a more matured look, also, pointy vampires ears, I had to add them. Sum notes on her -Francesca runs an independent hair salon in Safe Haven. Though she runs her own business she is a fierce supporter to her younger sisters Pepper's and Bamibi's species appreciation acceptance club. Francesca gives me a laid back and relaxed vibe, she's chill. She'll show up to events hosted by her sisters, sporting their species acceptance t-shirt merchandise and blow into a party horn with a lazed smile on her face. Despite her lay about arguably lazy side she is very caring, being a big sister, and is often the voice of reason among her two sisters when they're thinking about doing something crazy. -Francesca is hella gay, in her first years of ZPA she was a bit of a closet gay, not really confident to talk to girls she thought where pretty. It wasn't until she had her first fling with Camilla did she finally embrace it, Camilla and herself had a friends with benefits sort of deal during their years at ZPA. They'd laugh together, do dance class together, judge people together, fuck together: you know, typical best friend things. In Francesca's third year she began to grow a bit more confident in herself, and in the end her and Camilla stayed as very close friends. -Not shown above but Francesca is married to Spring, Autumn's sister. Spring works as a professional yoga instructor, hosting yoga classes out in the middle of sunny fields to be one with nature, her powers making her perfectly skilled in the art of growing and nurturing flowers and plants of all kind to bloom, a perfect relaxed environment to practice the art of yoga. The two met when Summer dragged her older, slightly anti social sister to Francesca's salon for a hair doo. Though scatter brained and a little forgetful Spring means well, embracing her hippy dippy ways to be one with nature. Her siblings are all generally okay with this, buuuut because of how much time she spends in nature Spring sometimes forgets to trim that mane of hair, and more often then not one of them has to drag her out to get a trim. Francesca is not intimidated by the tall women with a head of green hair flowing to the back of her knees, and confidently arms herself with her scissors and hair ties. It took a whole day for Fransceca to tame the hair into a more manageable style, Spring's siblings simply said that they wanted Spring's face to be visible, and that Fransesca had free will to style the hair how she liked. After she's finished and Fransesca gets her first propper look at the timid customer, she's already drawn to her shy nature. Francesca, though being a bit of a wild card, has a thing for shy people, perhaps it's a bit of vampire quirkiness, perhaps she likes the idea of someone shy and timid when she flashes all but a single toothy grin (Simon was and still kind is a bit of a sadist, he had no issue biting Fabian or restraining Zill, heck he even seemed pleased at the idea of drinking Carries blood cuz she was a demon - he's got some sadist nature in him, and it rubbed off on Francesca just a wee bit). Fransesca is laying out her smoothest flirts and pick up lines, all of which Spring replies too with a flustered deer whinny sound. Fransesca confidently gives Spring her card with a wink, and Spring hurriedly leaves. In the end Peppers and Summer got fed up of Spring pinning for Fransceca who was having way to much fun getting Spring all flustered that the two put them up on a yoga date. Fransesca had been pretty stressed out lately with helping Peppers and Bambi with big events at the centre, and so Spring gave her a full yoga therapy session. Fransesca at first doesn't really see the point in sitting in a field in some weird robe thingy, or walking calmly through the grass bare foot, or listening to the sound of a stream - yet, she tries anyway, mostly going into this yoga session thinking it would be all laughs and jokes. She's very surprised at just how..good Spring is at getting her to relax, there's something so soothing about Spring's voice it actually lulled her to sleep at one point, her snoring kinda broke the atmosphere Spring had going. They're happily married, Fransesca loves her dorky deer wifey -Blaire has a somewhat tense relationship with her mother Camilla, with the lack of a motherly figure in her life Blaire unconsciously seeks approval from the older female figures in her life: those two being Rosie, and Fransesca. Blaire is currently studying beauty and fashion at ZPA, despite what others think she's actually really found of exploring different fashion themes and playing around with hair dyes. She currently has a job working at Fransecsca's hair salon, she has yet to actually do any styling herself and works mostly behind the till. It's not the job she wanted, and it's pretty sucky, pretty damn boring. Fransesca sees that Blaire is obviously not having fun, not like Blaire was trying to hide it, so Franscesca one day gives Blaire a mannequin head and wig, and tells her to 'show what shes got' Blaire was a bit nervous at first, feeling as though this was some test, didn't help that Fransesca was watching silently the entire time. By the time she's finished Fransesca walks over to inspect her work, Fransesca doesn't sugar coat, she's to the point and Blaire may have been a little hurt. Then Fransesca gives her shoulder a friendly punch and admits that she's seen worse, and that Blaire has some potential for this kind of work. She takes Blaire on as a sort of apprentice, but it doesn't take long for the two to have a more relaxed bond then a worker and boss one. Francesca comes to enjoy the snarky brat, she sees a lot of herself in her DO NOT REPOST/EDIT/COPY/TRACE MY ART Franscesca/Bambi/Pepper/Spring/Simon/Camilla - Zoophobia Blaire - me

[thebirdandhersong]

Hey, so I've basically never watched any k-dramas, but I've read a lot of manga and manhwa and the automatic next step does feel like moving into k-dramas. You seem to have watched a number, so I was wondering if you could make a recommended list? Only if you felt like it of course, but it would be helpful! (Preferably of at least some which are on netflix uk, I looked up 18 again but it's unfortunately not on here in Britain :(. But if you have favourites I'd just like to know them so I can look out for them anywhere)

Also yay! Your term's ended!

(yanks open the door) did someone say RECOMMENDATIONS?? I DO have many!!! Boy do I have them!!!!

(YAY!! One last exam and I'm done for the summer!)

I love Eastern entertainment (manga, k-dramas, c-dramas, and movies from Korea and Taiwan) because of several reasons: the scripts are phenomenal nine times out of ten; Asian culture puts a strong emphasis on the importance of family, personal responsibility, learning from one's mistakes, expressing affection through gestures and acts of service, and friendship and I really love seeing that in a story; and they make good use of silence and stillness in shows and movies, which is pretty rare in Hollywood. The quiet moments between characters are more often than not some of the most important in the story and I Love That!!

The dramas I'm (briefly) listing are in bold if they're available on Netflix UK, and in bold and italicised if they're available on Rakuten Viki (which is a mostly-free drama streaming service, though unfortunately they're rather heavy on the ads). The Absolute Favourites are marked with stars (***). Though I can't actually see the whole list of dramas available in the UK, so some of these may be wrong, and it may be worth checking twice!

If you're in the mood for something fast-paced:

Descendants of the Sun (Viki); considered a Classic

- romantic comedy, medical drama, a bit of action

- The confident and charming leader of a Special Forces unit meets a reserved surgeon and they hit it off, after some... interesting misunderstandings. But after dating briefly and breaking up, they find themselves reunited on a peacekeeping mission in a war-torn country. Insert a lot of Suspense and Excitement but also a lot of Comedy and Sincere Declarations of Love.

- if you enjoy Song Joongki's performance, I'd also recommend his movie A Werewolf Boy. If you enjoy Song Hye-kyo's performance, I'd recommend her drama Encounter.

***Come and Hug Me (Viki, but I don't know if it costs money?)

- thriller/suspense, romance, this one genuinely stressed me out but the moments of peace and reconciliation (and the ENDING) were well worth it

- Their first loves during their youth ends in her mother's death and their separation. Years later, the lively daughter of the murdered woman is now an actress, and the introverted son of the serial killer has become a police officer. They meet each other again (Of Course) and have to tackle all sorts of Nonsense (including the serial killer's return, his murderous brother's return from prison, the Media, the ghosts of their past, etc. etc.) together. HUGE focus on forgiveness, hope, healing, unconditional and self-sacrificial love. Also one of the best redemption arcs (I did in fact bawl my eyes out)

- my friend just started crying when we first watched this drama together because the male lead is just so gentle and tenderhearted and steadfast :')

If you're in the mood for something a bit slower

***Goblin/Guardian (Viki); International Acclaim

- fantasy, drama, one of the funniest dramas I've ever watched, but also tears (I cried at a rate of around once every two episodes. This show talks a lot about life and meaning and the effect your actions and words have on the people around you.)

- Kim Shin, a general from the Goryeo Dynasty, is cursed to live as an immortal Goblin (a Korean mythical/fairy tale figure) until his destined Bride pulls the sword from his chest, thus breaking the 'spell' and ending his life. He really did not expect his bride to be the vivacious and irrepressible Eun-tak, though, and What's More!! He did not expect that he would start wanting to live again :))) Includes a surprising amount of comedy, a surprising amount of tears, and EXCELLENT screenwriting. (Descendants and Goblin share the same brilliant writer.)

- fun fact: parts of it were shot in Quebec!! One of the characters refers to Canada as "the maple nation" early on in the story and my friend and I just burst into laughter.

***Encounter (Viki, but I'm not sure if it costs money?)

- melodrama, romantic comedy, FAIRY TALE

- a cold and withdrawn woman, recently divorced because of her husband's infidelity, and a warm-hearted and optimistic young man meet on the streets of Cuba by accident, and upon separating without means of contact, find themselves back in Korea as boss and newly hired employee. This sounds like a recipe for disaster: stuffed to the gills with unnecessary workplace drama and gossip, etc. but the story focuses instead on family, vulnerability, transformation, sacrifice, about art, compassion, mending relationships, opening up to people, and about the beauty in bringing and receiving comfort and love.

- also. ALSO. Fairy tale!!! with illustrated opening and ending cards and everything!!! (they literally refer to her as the Ice Princess. And her Prince is the human equivalent of sunshine. I Love him)

- if you like Park Bo-gum's performance, I'd recommend Reply 1988, too!

***One Spring Night

- melodrama; quiet and understated but very beautiful

- A bright, clever, and sharp-tongued librarian meets a quiet, steady, and gentle pharmacist one day. It turns out that he's a single father, and she's trapped in a relationship that really isn't working out. Friendship! Family! Sisters standing up for each other and saying No I Won't Let You Treat My Sister Like This, You Jerk! Figuring things out! Learning how to love! I really don't know what else to say, except for the fact that I loved it very much!!

- if you enjoy Jung Hae-in's performance, I'd also recommend Something in the Rain (which should also be on Netflix!) for his acting alone. I just think he's neat.

Reply 1988

- slice-of-life, comedy

- In the late 1980s, five friends (four boys, one girl) who have grown up with each other since childhood are Going Through It in high school. This drama is all about the little things that happen in life, and about learning to understand your family and your friends. Deok-sun is just trying to survive all of This as the middle child, and as a young girl who is trying to figure this Romance thing out. In the present, adult Deok-sun is just as lively, and is now happily married..... but to whom? :))) A Lot of '80s Asian culture, daily antics, and good old friendship.

- if you like Park Bo-gum's performance, I'd recommend Encounter too :)

18 Again (Viki)

- romantic comedy, fantasy/time travel (sort of)

- Nearly twenty years of marriage, and things have been going Wrong all over the place. His wife wants a divorce, he's no longer close to his teenaged kids, and he's just lost the job he's been faithfully working at for years. Daeyoung wishes that he could go back somehow, and finds himself 18 once again.... except he's still in the present. Interesting things ensue. He enrolls in school (it turns out to be the same one his kids attend), and decides to pursue the dreams he had to give up when he was a teenager. Antics ensue! But also Healing: he gets to know his kids all over again, and is able to view his relationships with Dajung (whom he still loves. Of course) and his estranged father in a new light.

- I have not finished this drama yet but judging from the first third of it, it is both well-written and well-acted. There are a few things that I am not a fan of, but on the whole Lee Dohyun's performance is wonderful and I have already cried buckets.

Other honourable mentions:

100 Days My Prince: historical drama. Prince caught in an assassination plot, loses his memory, wakes up in a village right when the king issues a marriage law that results in his marrying the spirited 'spinster'.

Still 17/Thirty But Seventeen: 17 year old violin prodigy in a coma after an accident, wakes up when she's 30; the boy who inadvertently caused the accident runs into her again after she wakes up and helps her adjust to her new life. Lots of wacky humour, very sweet!!

[alolowrites]

Cuddling Through the Seasons

Summary: Fatgum’s cuddles never go out of season

Author’s Note: This is my third story for the @bnhabookclub​’s Hero Camp Bingo event. This was also a request from @bnha-homeroom​ (sorry it took so long!) 

The prompt used was Cuddles and this is my first story for Fatgum. Hopefully I’ll do more stories for this guy because he’s deserves the best. 

Enjoy!

Word Count: 1.6K+

Spring

High in the sky rests the glorious bright sun. It’s golden rays shine through the vibrant pink flowers blooming on every tree, emphasizing their natural beauty. Two birds playfully chase each other in between the branches, their lovely chirps in harmony with the soothing sounds of the gentle stream below—Mother Nature is simply a lady with many hidden talents.

Although the grass maintains a healthy green coat, it too is covered by fresh cherry blossom petals blown off the trees—it adds a beautiful pop to the land. Few people arrive and wander through the peaceful park. Some snap a couple of pictures on their phones, their bodies bent in odd angles to capture that perfect Instagram-worthy shot. Others silently take in the whole scenery with their eyes and save the mental image deep in their memory jar—that’s how you are enjoying today with Taishiro.

Both of you sit under a tree that is different from the others; it’s branches are abundant, and some hang charmingly over the water. A quick wind blows through the park, tugging the delicate petals until one slowly falls to the stream. Everything is serene, almost like an abstract landscape painting on display at an art museum.

Closing your eyes, you sink in deeper into Taishiro’s plump chest. A relaxed sigh escapes his lips as you enjoy your massive pillow. His large arms wrap around you like a snuggly safety belt—they are protective and warm. Your fingers affectionately glide up and down his sweater to the beat of the stream. You hum, “Everything is so beautiful.”

Taishiro leans back on the thick tree trunk and glances at you; he cheekily grins, “That’s ‘cause you’re here, darlin’. The cherry blossoms are a nice touch, though.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re such a cheesy guy, you know that?”

“Yeah, but that’s what you love ‘bout me.”

“That is very true,” you playfully tap his arm, smirking up at him. Another cherry blossom falls and lands on top of your head. Taishiro raises on hand to carefully pluck it off your hair and holds it high against the sunlight. The flower is so soft and just the right shade of pink. He thinks it’s perfect, just like you.

Taishiro shows the sakura petal to you, “Here’s a little present.”

Your heart swells, a tiny blush dusting your cheeks as you reach for the flower. You take a whiff of the sweet aroma and lean back against your living pillow. Squeezing the hero’s hand, you look up to flash him a faint smile, “Thank you.”

You never let go of the cherry blossom petal.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Summer

Far in the distance lies the vast calm sea. Ocean waves creep steadily toward the fine white sand, kissing the land hello before returning outward. Light puffy clouds float along the peaceful cerulean sky, morphing into different images at the hands of your wild imagination. It’s a fun way to pass the time and relax the mind.

You inhale the fresh, natural air—it smells like freedom. The city’s chaotic and bustling streets are an afterthought. The prying eyes of paparazzi and other media hounds are thousands of miles away from your paradise home. The avalanche stress tied with Taishiro’s hero lifestyle vanishes when the two of you step on the warm sand.

“Whatcha’ thinkin’ about, darlin’?” His voice is loud but soothing at the same time. You feel the gigantic teddy bear stand behind you. It wasn’t long until Taishiro traps you into his loving embrace, giving you a quick squeeze. Your toes wiggle into the smooth sand as a sharp wind whistles by; the waves hear it and crash against the shoreline.

“How a place like this,” you nod toward the dancing water, “somehow exists. It’s almost as if I’m dreaming—” You yelp at the slight pinch, and Taishiro roars with laughter. You crane your neck up to glare at him, “What was that for?”

“Well you’re not dreamin’, that’s for sure.” You elbow into his stomach knowing entirely well it did not phase him at all. Taishiro retaliates by hugging you harder, enjoying the delightful squeals ringing into the semi-deserted beach. Other tourists linger around, but the land is so spacious that you barely see them. It’s easy to think you two are alone with all the privacy in the world, an idea that doesn’t exist back at home—a small price to pay while being a pro hero.

In a way, Taishiro is glad this moment is not a dream. It won’t fade away once he wakes up, but will stay in his memory for a long time. Just as you calm down, a mischievous grin crosses the hero’s lips, and his grip tightens around your waist. You had a bad feeling about this and clenched his hands, “Hey…what are you doing—”

“Hold on!”

“Don’t you dare!”

Your words fall on deaf ears as he effortlessly carries you in his arms and charges toward the sea that is waiting to greet you both.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Autumn

Bright yellow lanterns glow above the narrow streets, gently swaying back and forth without a care in the world. Luscious pampas grass decorate the roofs, the creamy-white feathery plumes waving hello to everyone passing through the area. A chubby hand reaches upward; the baby is determined to grab the mesmerizing fluffy grass until something else catches their eye.

An elegant pyramid of tsukimi dango neatly sits on a black plate. There are fifteen white dumplings, each perfectly round and white as the precious moon gleaming tonight. A crowd grows around the delicious display, making it nearly impossible to squeeze through the sardine bodies. Fortunately, the group departs when they see Fatgum approaching with his hearty smile, and you follow closely behind—sometimes being a hero has its perks.

Taishiro greets everyone until a middle-aged man freaks out from his stall, “It’s an honor to meet you, Fatgum! Thank you for keeping our streets safe!”

“It’s no problem really—”

“Please take these dumplings! They’re on the house!”

Taishiro gives you a side-glance, and you shrug. Who were you to deny some free food, especially if they are those moon-like dumplings? You grab the plate from the man’s trembling hands and bow. The hero safely guides you away from the crowd and spots an empty grass field. Plopping down, you dramatically groan, “That was so much walking!”

“Sorry, darlin’! Guess I got a lil carried away,” he chuckles while scratching his forehead. Taishiro takes a seat behind you.  

“I think that’s an understatement, but,” you gleefully raise the plate that barely reached his eyes, “we got free dumplings!”

“They do look good,” Taishiro hums and takes one round treat. You plop the tsukimi dango in your mouth, the rice flavor surprisingly strong, yet pleasing to your tastebuds—it’s a chewy delight. The pyramid crumbles in seconds, and you scoot back to rest your head against the gentle giant; out of instinct, he cradles you in his arms.

A chilly air blows by and makes you shiver despite wearing a cashmere sweater. Taishiro notices and shifts his posture to shield you from the cold—a small act that melts your heart every time. You gaze at the luminous moon until your eyes struggle to stay awake; it doesn’t help that Taishiro feels like all toasty like a fleece blanket.  

It definitely was all that walking, and you yawn before dozing off in his arms.

༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛

Winter

Snow showers rain down on your quiet neighborhood. The bare tree branches scoff at the fluffy cotton balls falling from the sky; they barely weighed more than a feather. An hour later, the branches are slouching under the heavyweight and weeping for mercy—but the snow never stops.  

A thin white blanket hides the dull, gray streets and vibrant decorations flourish to their heart’s content. Tiny bells chime once Jack Frost blows a chilly wind down the sidewalks. Thick garlands covered in elegant ribbons stretch for miles on some apartment balconies. And others hung colorful Christmas lights that flicker to a very jolly tune.

In a way, the snow ties everything together to bring out the pleasant holiday mood—it’s simply magical. Two pairs of footsteps, one small like a mouse and the other the size of a giant, imprint themselves on the powdery sidewalk. You waddle toward the apartment with arms bundled around yourself; you’re craving for something warm. Any minute longer outside and your legs will permanently turn into icicles.

“O-open t-the do-or, p-please,” you chatter through your teeth while bouncing nonstop. Taishiro chuckles and you glare at him, making his grin widen more. You barge in once he unlocks the door and dust off the snow on your coat. Hasty footsteps rush to the kitchen so you could warm the teapot as quickly as possible.  

Taishiro shakes his head—you quickly get cold. He relaxes on the couch, not bothering to change out of his Santa costume; if anything, the clothes are comfortable and roomy. You wander into the living room and shiver up a storm. A gloved hand beckons for you, “Come over here, darlin’.”  

Shuffling toward the mellow hero, he pulls you on top of him. Without hesitation, his arm wraps around you to keep you steady. One ear sits above his chest, and you focus on the faint sound of his heartbeat. Not even the Santa costume could mask Taishiro’s alluring honeydew scent, which drives you crazy. You contently sigh, “You made so many kids smile today, hun.”

“I’m glad,” he answers while stroking your hair, “Those kids at the hospital deserve all the happiness in the world, ya’ know?”

“Yeah…” A finger lazily draws out imaginary lines along Taishiro’s red velvet coat. An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. Only your charming touches could make him react like this, and he savors them all. You raise your head and squirm closer to the hero’s face. With loving eyes, you whisper, “You make a fantastic Santa Claus.”

“Fantastic enough to get a kiss from Mrs. Claus?”

“Sure,” you giggle and pull down his fake white beard. As you plant a sweet kiss on his lips, you decide that you no longer needed that nice hot cup of tea.

Third prompt is crossed off. Which one will be next? Stay tune! Thank you for reading!

Previous prompt: Betrayal

Hero Camp Bingo Masterlist

[bettsfic]

hello!! i hope you're doing well~ i'm at the point where i have writing that i'm satisfied with enough to send out to try for publishing, but i'm afraid i have no idea where to start with that process. where does one look for things to get short stories published in? how does one juggle acceptances? or does that not happen? do i always get to keep ownership of my writing? is there anything to expect/look out for? you don't have to touch on all of these! thank you in advance!

congrats on finishing a story! the good news is, you now have a writing sample that is hopefully representative of your best work, and a good writing sample can open a lot of doors for you in terms of workshops, residencies, and potential funding opportunities.

the bad news is, publication is a long-con. expect it to take 2+ years to place your story. of my 3 publications, the timelines were:

“lien” -- written fall 2016, 16 rejections, published spring 2018

“an informed purchase” -- written summer 2017, 5 rejections, published summer 2018 (this was unimaginably fast)

“the ashtray” -- written spring 2017, 17 rejections, published winter 2019

if your story is genre (sci fi, fantasy, horror, etc), i’m afraid expectations are a bit different than what i’m about to tell you. so i’m going to answer your question assuming you’ll be submitting to literary journals/magazines.

the first thing you need to do is read as many short stories as you possibly can that have been published in the past 10 years. here’s how to do that:

pick up the most recent copy of america’s best short stories (this year’s was edited by anthony doerr, one of my favorite writers)

read it and find the stories that are most similar to your work

research the authors who wrote those stories and figure out what journals have published them; read as much of their work as you can

(short story collections will have acknowledgments listing where their stories have appeared. you can also find this info on an author’s website, assuming they have one)

find the journals that have published the authors you like and read their most recent handful of issues

if their aesthetic jives with your work, look into their submission guidelines to see if your story fits with their requirements in terms of word length, etc.

if so, submit! if not, keep them in mind for when you have a story they might want

you can also click through entropy mag’s where to submit round-up

there’s also duotrope, which is a lit mag submission base, but it costs money and that’s shitty of them

note there are thousands of lit mags out there, all of varying quality. you don’t want to waste your time submitting to shitty mags or ones that don’t fit with your work. the more research you do on the front end, the easier it’ll become later

it takes a long time to become familiar with the world of literary publishing. it’s a lot like a fandom in that way. you have to read what’s out there and engage in order to figure out what’s going on. 

some general tips about finding places to submit:

don’t pay submission fees. some magazines will ask you to pay $3-$5 to submit. later in your writing career maybe that’ll be a worthwhile thing, but for your first pub i wouldn’t bother. stick with free submissions.

look around on the publication’s website to see if they nominate their writers for the pushcart, best of the net, or pen awards. also see if they promote their writers’ successes elsewhere, like when they get a book deal.

check to see how many followers they have on twitter and/or instagram. figure out what their reach is. 

check to see if they’re affiliated with a university. if they are, keep in mind that their editorial staff will rotate every semester or year, and so will their aesthetic interests. find out of it’s run by the english department or if it’s an undergrad journal. if it’s an undergrad journal they may only accept undergrad writing. most of the time journals are run by grad students

if they’re not affiliated with a university, check to see how many issues they’ve published. fewer issues, bigger risk they’re not a journal that will keep afloat and they maybe don’t have their shit together yet. lit mags are like podcasts: everyone wants to start one; very few people make it into anything meaningful. (conversely, the bigger the risk, the bigger the potential reward. a newer mag could skyrocket, and you along with it)

see who else a magazine has published. look for names you recognize. my first publication once published mary ruefle, and i’m fucken feral for mary ruefle. my ego lifted into space after being published somewhere that she had also been published. 

lastly, publication is about finding the right fit and forming relationships. a smaller mag that will value you and support you for your entire career, that is thrilled to have your work, is far more important than getting into a bigger mag that has no personal engagement or investment in you. my first publication, the editor sent me a hand-written letter about how much he loved my story. he nominated me for an award. my third publication was similar. the editor based the cover art on my story and also nominated my work for an award. 

to answer your other questions: you will never have to juggle acceptances. when you receive an acceptance, you have to withdraw your outstanding submissions. when you publish, you usually sign a publication agreement for what’s called first serial rights, which means that the publication owns the rights to your story for 1 year, after which you can publish your work wherever else you want. most publications don’t accept work that’s been previously published, though. 

you will need a cover letter. here is what your cover letter should look like:

Dear [Editor (yes you have to look up the editor’s name)],

Enclosed is my fiction submission, “Story Title.” Thank you for considering it for publication in [Journal]. [put your author bio here. here’s mine, and you can drag and drop your info: I received my MFA from Miami University in Ohio, where I am currently a creative writing and composition instructor. My fiction has appeared in Quarter After Eight, Midwestern Gothic, and Rivet Journal. I am a recipient of the 2018 Jordan-Goodman Prize in Fiction, and I was nominated for the 2019 PEN/Robert J. Dau Short Story Prize for Emerging Writers and 2020 Pushcart Prize. My work has been supported by the Sundress Academy for the Arts, Kimmel Harding Nelson Center for the Arts, and Hambidge Center residences, as well as the Tin House Workshop and New York State Summer Writers Institute.]

This is a simultaneous submission. I will withdraw the piece immediately if it is accepted elsewhere. I look forward to hearing from you. Best, [Your name]

i don’t know why they say they want a cover letter when 1) nobody reads them, and 2) they don’t actually say anything. i’m assuming it’s just to see that you know how to submit to journals? anyway, unless explicitly asked, don’t talk about your submission at all. the work should speak for itself.

here are some other things:

journals take around 3 to 6 months to reply to you, sometimes upward a year or more. do not follow up with them asking about your submission until it’s far past the window they say they’ll reply, and even then, i don’t recommend it

you will be rejected. repeatedly. i know writers who submit a piece upwards a hundred times before giving up on it. i give up/do major revisions after 20 rejections for a given story

submit in batches of 10 at a time and keep a detailed tracking sheet

the longer you’re waiting to hear back, the further you get in the process. if a journal rejects you after a year, it probably means an editor fought for your story and lost

treat any personal note/correspondence from an editor, even critical, as a gift. editors do not often give their attention. be sure to reply to personal correspondence

if a journal rejects you but welcomes you to submit again, submit a different piece and do it quickly, with a note that says they liked something else you sent them

if you get accepted to a journal that wants you to make major revisions that you don’t want to make, don’t be afraid to pull the piece. i’ve been in this situation twice: once where i refused to make the revisions because i felt they altered the heart of the story, and once where i made them because i could understand where the editor was coming from, even if i didn’t like it as well. that said, usually journals won’t be willing to work with you on a story that needs major edits; they’ll just reject the story, even if they see promise in it

okay that’s all i’ve got. i hope this helps, and happy submitting!

[artificialqueens]

How Wonderful Life Is (While You're in the World) (Rosnali) - Athena2

Summary: Rosé has the perfect plan for proposing to Denali. If only she could get the plan to work.

A/N: So this idea came into my head and wouldn’t leave until I wrote it! I wish I had the same motivation for my homework honestly. It’s basically pure fluff and a little chaos. Thank you so much to Writ for beta-ing and helping my pull the final scene together. Please leave some feedback if you’d like, I really appreciate it!

Title from Your Song by Elton John.

Rosé has had the ring for two weeks now. The plan, however, she’s had even longer. It’s carefully organized, each step written on the checklist (which Lagoona’s been teasing her for) in Rosé’s prim-and-proper handwriting (which Jan’s been teasing her for since they were kids). But she needs this proposal to be perfect, everything Denali deserves and more. Denali deserves the world, but even with her promotion at the fashion magazine, that’s out of Rosé’s price range, so this has to be special.

She sits with an eye on the door, waiting for Denali to come in and fling her bag on the couch. Then Rosé will spontaneously-but-not-really-spontaneously suggest they go eat at the Thai place where they had their first date. After dinner, she’ll develop a sudden desperate craving for ice cream–hey, she might as well put those old acting classes to good use–and they’ll go on a walk to get said ice cream. But not any walk—a path Rosé created herself, one that takes them to the same ice cream place where chocolate and pistachio sweetened their first kiss, past the art museum where they officially became girlfriends in front of a Monet, and finally into the park where they first met years ago, where Rosé will get down on one knee and pull out the ring burning a hole in her pocket.

A perfect full circle moment, one she knows Denali will love.

Her leg bounces as she waits. She knows Denali will say yes, but this is still a big step, even bigger than moving in together. But that had turned out so well, letting her be around Denali all the time, learning new parts of her girlfriend that she could tuck inside herself. Like how Denali still has a battered Nike shoebox of her old Pokémon cards. How her early rising for skating still lingers, inviting warm sunrise cuddles. How she’s so brave and fearless, yet still shrieks and throws random objects across the room when she sees a spider. It’s a step that let them create a home together, with fluffy blankets on the couch and cheesy photo-booth pictures on the fridge and both their favorite chips in the cupboard. A home in each other, hugs and kisses and support all the time. A step that became amazing, and this one will be even more so.

Until the door flies open and in comes a slightly limping Denali with a scowl on her face.

“Well, today fucking sucked.”

Rosé jumps off the couch, easing Denali’s skating bag off her shoulder. “What happened, baby?”

“First one of my design clients decided they wanted to change their costume right after we settled on the original design. Then this minivan mom screamed at me outside the rink for like ten minutes because I said her kid needed more practice before moving to the next age group. And then I was so distracted from everything I fell on my knee when I was practicing.”

“I’m sorry, Nali.” Rosé winces, one hand steady on Denali’s waist, the other rubbing her back, soothing Denali with gentle touches, reminders that she’s here. “Is it bad?”

“Nah, it’s just a bruise. I’ll put some ice on it and it’ll be fine.” Denali flops down on the couch, leaning back and sighing. “Can we order pizza?”

Rosé’s heart sinks as she realizes the proposal is off for the night. Denali’s stressed and exhausted, clearly not in the mood for having dinner out or going for a walk. Rosé doesn’t blame her, and she isn’t going to push things. Part of her is disappointed, her perfect plan in ruins, no chance of them going to bed giddily planning a wedding. But Denali needs comfort after a bad day, and that’s something Rosé will always love to give her.

“Of course,” Rosé says. “Anything else you need?”

Denali shakes her head. She’s tough, and after some food and sleep, she’ll be ready to take on the world. But that won’t stop Rosé from giving her anything she wants tonight, making sure she always has a soft place to land.

“I’ll order it and get you some ice. You just relax.”

It doesn’t have to be today, Rosé reminds herself as she settles next to Denali, careful not to bump her knee. She’ll just propose another night. Everything is fine. And when Denali falls asleep with her head in Rosé’s lap while Rosé gently strokes her hair, everything really is fine.

—

Rosé waits a few days before her second try, giving the universe time to let out all its bad, proposal-killing vibes. The ring is secure in her nightstand drawer, nestled between her vanilla lotion and melatonin gummies, and Denali is secure in her arms when they wake up. Tonight’s the night. Rosé can feel it.

Until the rain starts.

And not just any rain, but heavy, pouring rain, pounding on the roof and destroying umbrellas. The kind that soaks you through in seconds and leaves you shivering the whole day. No one would want to spend five seconds in that rain, let alone go for a romantic walk in it.

But it’s only morning, and these heavy storms never last. By tonight, the sun will shine and the world will glisten with leftover rainwater. A perfect setting for a proposal.

But when the rain is still screaming down when Rosé leaves work, rattling the windows as she and Denali curl up under a blanket with hot chocolate, she has to give up on this one.

—

Third time’s the charm, everyone says that, so Rosé’s optimistic when Attempt Three rolls around. Hope follows her all day at work, as she arranges photos of models and meets with Michelle to discuss next month’s issue, and there’s a spring in her step when she leaves her desk and strolls to the elevator with Symone.

“I can’t wait to see your layout tomorrow!” Symone says, adjusting her purse and closing the door.

“You mean Friday.”

“Tomorrow is Friday.” Symone’s excitement becomes concern. “You feeling okay?”

“Fine. I’m fine,” Rosé stammers, batting away the hand Symone extends toward her forehead. “I just mixed my days up for a minute.”

Symone nods, and only when they’re both out of the building does Rosé allow herself to exhale, frantically checking the date on her phone and swearing when it confirms that today is, in fact, Thursday. She’s been so focused on this round of the proposal that she missed a day somewhere. Her layout is due at midnight, and even though it’s almost done, she puts so much care into each one there’s no way to do the proposal and the layout tonight without hurting the quality of one of them, and she can’t do that. It’s not fair to give Denali anything less than her full attention, and she can’t submit half-assed work weeks after her promotion either. The proposal will have to wait.

Again.

The hope turns to lead as she drags herself into the apartment, sprawling out at the kitchen table with her laptop, massaging her temples to ward off the looming headache. She doesn’t even hear Denali come in until she drops a kiss on the top of her head.

“Deadline?” Denali guesses.

Rosé sighs, leaning back to chase another kiss, which Denali gives her. “Yeah. I got my days mixed up and it’s due tonight. I’m gonna be here a while. I’m sorry.”

Denali nods in understanding, brushing Rosé’s hair off her face, calming the stress buzzing in her. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll make dinner and then I can keep you company. I have some costume sketches to work on.”

Rosé nods gratefully, heart swelling with love as she returns to her work. She faintly registers Denali moving around the kitchen, swaying and humming whatever her favorite song is this week, until she sets down two plates of grilled cheese.

They eat their sandwiches, and Denali replaces the plates with their floral coffee mugs–pink roses and blue forget-me-nots–a comfortable silence spreading between them as they work. They didn’t need to talk, didn’t need much of anything, but liked knowing the other was there anyway. There’s always been this connection between them, the way they were completely attuned to each other’s moods, knowing when to give space or comfort or talk things through.

“You don’t have to stay, you know,” Rosé says, stretching her back and jumping as it cracks. “You can go to bed.”

“I’m staying,” Denali says, stubborn as always. “Besides, I don’t sleep as good without you, which makes no sense because you’re always kicking me.”

Rosé sneaks glances as Denali works, sketching a blue skating costume. Denali’s been teaching skating lessons for years and started making outfits for clients last summer, and it’s really taken off lately. Rosé loves watching her sketch, the way her tongue curls over her lip, the way her dimples peek out, the way her dark eyes narrow in focus. She’s absolutely beautiful, hair in a messy bun, sweatshirt that Rosé is pretty sure was once hers sloping down to reveal the curve of her shoulder. The woman Rosé’s going to marry. Denali grins as she finishes, and finally catches Rosé staring at her.

“What?” Denali asks.

Ask her, Rosé thinks. Ask her right now. And she almost does, plan be damned. But she doesn’t want it to seem like she’s just blurting it out for the hell of it, like it’s thoughtless. “Nothing,” Rosé says quietly.

“I’m on to you, Rosie,” Denali says.

Rosé’s heart skips a beat. What if Denali found the ring, what if she knows–

“You were just so dazzled by my smile it made you speechless,” Denali says, flashing her dimples again.

Rosé grins, trying not to sigh in relief. “You’re right, baby.”

It’s 11:03 when Rosé sends her layout to Michelle, slumping back in her chair and letting her exhausted eyes slide shut.

“Come on, Rosie. Let’s go to bed.” Denali’s hands help her up, and Rosé leans into her. Denali stayed with her this whole time, refilling her coffee mug and rubbing her shoulders, showing her funny videos she was watching on her phone, letting out soft encouragements when she got frustrated. Rosé knows how lucky she is to have Denali, and she nuzzles against her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she mumbles sleepily. “For stayin’ up with me.”

“Of course.” Denali presses a kiss to her cheek.

They collapse into bed, and Rosé falls asleep with her arms full of love.

—

Attempt Four doesn’t go wrong right away. In fact, everything is fine–no bad work days, no rain, no deadlines.

And then Jan calls.

“What do you mean your sitter cancelled?” Rosé demands into the phone.

“I mean my sitter cancelled. It’s not a difficult statement,” Jan says on the other end.

“And why does this involve me?” Rosé plays dumb, but she already knows where tonight is going, and it doesn’t include a ring.

Jan sighs. “Because Jackie has this work dinner tonight, and I want to be there for her, but we can’t leave the baby. Please, Rosie, pleeeease?”

“All right.”

“You’re a lifesaver!”

Rosé sighs, adding another tally to the failed proposal column.

She tries to make the most of the night, not wanting Denali to suspect anything’s wrong. She’ll know if something is off with Rosé, and Rosé doesn’t want Denali to get suspicious about what’s bothering her, or think she’s hiding something. Well, technically she is hiding something, but not in a bad way. So she happily takes baby Joey from Jan and rocks him slightly, smiling as he smiles. Denali leans over and tickles him, giggling as he giggles, and there’s something about her smile, about the overjoyed the-baby-likes-me gleam in her eyes, that makes her even more adorable.

“I bet I can make him laugh harder than you.” Denali sticks her tongue out to prove her point.

Rosé gives into her competitive side and twists half her mouth up and crosses her eyes, cheering when Joey shrieks with joy.

“All right, that’s enough. You keep making those faces and you’ll scar the kid for life,” Denali mumbles.

Joey sleeps most of the night, but they watch the whole Disney movie anyway, snuggled together, Rosé softly singing in Denali’s ear.

—

Over the next few weeks, Rosé tries, refusing to let the universe take her hope away. She tries again and again, each time thinking that this will finally be it, the day they finally become engaged. The ring glares at her every time she reaches for her melatonin, because as the failures pile up, so do her hours of tossing and turning. Attempt Five is crushed by the dump truck the city brings in to clean the park. Denali catches a cold from one of her skating students and Rosé makes soup and fusses over her on the night of Attempt Six, and when Rosé wakes up sneezing two days later, that’s the end of Attempt Seven. The ice cream shop posts on Instagram that they’re closed for the day due to electrical outages, and Attempt Eight melts away like ice cream in the sun. By this point, Rosé’s tempted to make a damn bingo card for the next thing to go wrong.

“I see I still don’t have a sister-in-law,” Jan says as she enters the apartment, Lagoona trailing behind her.

“Why do you want another sister? You have us.” Lagoona throws an arm around Rosé and flashes Jan a cheesy grin.

“That’s exactly why I want another one.”

Rosé sighs. “This is what I wanted to talk about, actually.”

Jan and Lagoona must sense her seriousness, because their bickering stops, faces attentive like every time Rosé has gone to them for help. They were there when she failed a math test, and when she realized she wanted to kiss girls the way other girls kissed boys, and when she was getting ready for her first date with Denali. They’re always armed with hugs and decent advice and (usually) decent fashion tips, and Rosé loves them for it.

“What’s going on?”

Rosé fidgets with her sleeve. “It’s just–every time I try to propose, something goes wrong. What if …” Rosé pushes on despite the crack in her voice, “what if it’s a sign I shouldn’t propose? That we shouldn’t get married?”

She’s been trying to stay hopeful. She and Denali have been together for four years, after all, and if a few mishaps delayed their proposal, well, they’d get there eventually, and laugh about everything later. But that was about four mishaps ago, and Rosé can’t shake the feeling tightening around her chest that they’ll never get to the laughing-about-it stage, that Denali will never wear the ring. A few mishaps are a coincidence, but how many coincidences can you have until they become something more, something you can’t ignore?

“Don’t even let yourself think that,” Jan says softly.

“Jan’s right, and I’ll probably never say that again, so stop analyzing and listen,” Lagoona says. “You’re trying too hard to make this perfect. Stuff just goes wrong sometimes. It only feels huge because you’re putting so much pressure on yourself.”

“And it doesn’t need to be perfect,” Jan adds. “I know you want to give her the best proposal ever, but Denali knows you love her. She wouldn’t want you to be this stressed. You could propose in a dumpster and she’d say yes.”

Lagoona nods. “Look, your plan is amazing, but maybe it’ll help if you lose the plan and just propose when it feels right. Then you don’t have to cancel it every time the smallest thing goes wrong.”

“But how will I know when it’s right?” Rosé asks. “I don’t want it to seem thoughtless, or disappointing.”

“Nothing you do would be thoughtless, and you’d never disappoint Denali, first of all.” Jan pulls her into a hug. “And honey, I think it already is right. That’s why you bought the ring.”

Rosé nods, every doubt immediately pushed away. Instead of clinging to the plan the way she would cling to her script and run lines over and over at theatre camp, she can let go of the plan, of waiting and waiting for every single factor to be ideal. She loves Denali, and any time to propose to her is the right time. Rosé knows it’s right, just like she knew moving in together was right, just like she knew asking Denali out in the first place was right. Denali has always felt right to Rosé, someone she can show herself and her heart to, and she’ll know when to do it.

—

Rosé has taken to carrying the ring around in her purse, just in case she’s pushing her luck keeping it hidden in the apartment, but also in case the moment hits her while she and Denali are out somewhere. She likes having it close, touching the black velvet box and assuring herself of the promise inside.

Even with her new plan of not having a plan, she still struggles to get the words out. There have been some close calls–a weekend morning half-asleep in bed together, sunlight making Denali’s face gold, or having coffee in a cozy cafe, Denali tilting her head back to laugh at something Rosé said. But she always stumbles over exactly what she wants to say, or hesitates just a second too long, and the moment passes, or Denali moves on to something else.

Tonight, she’s flipping pancakes while Denali tends to the eggs.

“Why do you love breakfast for dinner so much?” Rosé mumbles, dodging Denali as she throws salt and pepper on the eggs like they’ve personally offended her.

“Breakfast food tastes better at night. You’re having a certain food at a time you’re not supposed to have it, so it’s like all sexy and forbidden and shit, and it tastes better. Same rule applies to pizza for breakfast.” Denali shrugs, like it’s common knowledge.

“I’m sorry I asked.” Rosé adds chocolate chips to the pancakes, Denali’s favorite.

They dig in to eat, and Denali jokes that she should make a skating costume based on breakfast foods, with a waffle skirt and ruffles that look like bacon, and Rosé can’t stop laughing, torn somewhere between amusement and horror.

Denali is laughing too, arms swinging around as she pretends to model the garment, her eyes sparkling, and it hits Rosé all at once in that moment. God, I love her so much.

“Marry me,” Rosé says.

Denali stills at once. “What?”

“I–hang on.�� Rosé sprints to her purse, digs out the ring, and lowers her knee to the kitchen floor. Her heart throbs in her chest, but a smile from Denali shows she has nothing to worry about. “Denali, I … I had this perfect plan of how to propose to you, but every time I tried, something went wrong and stopped me. But the plan doesn’t matter. You matter. You matter more than anything to me, and this might not be perfect, but it’s you, and you’re always perfect to me. Will you marry me?”

Denali’s eyes glisten with tears. “Of course I’ll marry you, Rosie. I love you so much.”

The ring fits perfectly when Rosé slides it on her finger, and Denali fits perfectly in Rosé’s arms when she pulls her in for a kiss.

“So you did that little speech on the fly, huh?” Denali asks when they pull apart and sit back down.

“I am an improv queen, you know. Got the theatre camp certificate to prove it.” Rosé laughs. “But yeah. Instead of writing what I wanted to say, or thinking too much, I just … said it. And it’s all true, because I love you.”

Denali smiles, reaching out to take Rosé’s hand, stroking her thumb across the back of it. She gets a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, how many times did you try to do this? I just want to know.”

“I think the official count is eight.” By the time Rosé finishes telling them all, they’re both crying tears of laughter and clutching at sore stomachs, splitting the bottle of champagne they opened.

Denali looks at her after she’s done, and Rosé knows she’s crying for real now.

“You’re not disappointed, are you? The plan was way better, I was gonna–”

“I don’t need to know what the plan was,” Denali says firmly, “because I love the proposal you did. You could never disappoint me, Rosie. Never.” She sniffles. “I’m crying because I just–I can’t believe you tried that hard to do this for me. You’re basically the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“I love you,” Rosé says simply, and even if she couldn’t do the perfect proposal, she’s glad Denali knows how much she loves her, how she would do anything for her.

“I love you too,” Denali says. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll get to do that proposal some day after all.”

But Rosé doesn’t care if she does or not. Because she and Denali are getting married.

—

One Month Later

Rosé has a new checklist (which Lagoona’s been teasing her for) in her prim-and-proper handwriting (which Jan’s been teasing her for since they were kids). It’s a notebook, really, stuffed with all the things they have to do for the wedding–check out venues and finalize the guest list and then look at menus and decor and about a hundred other things. But Denali commanded her to leave it home today, because they both need a break.

“Can we get lunch?” Denali asks.

“We didn’t even shop yet.”

“But I’m hungry,” Denali whines.

“Okay, okay.” Denali’s hanger can level a city block, and Rosé knows she needs to get some food in her. “How about that burger place?”

“Too far. We’re only a block from that Thai place, let’s just go there.”

They get to their table just before the lunch rush hits, and Rosé thinks of how she’d been so sweaty before their first date that she had to put on extra deodorant in the bathroom. She’s calm and peaceful now, Denali slurping noodles across from her, their feet brushing without any thought of whether a first date was too early for that.

“I think those noodles gave me heartburn.” Denali rubs her chest as they walk out.

“Maybe it was the fact that you ate a giant bowl of them–”

“Oh, hush, Rosie. Oooh, you know what my mom says cures heartburn? Ice cream!”

Rosé doesn’t think that’s medically accurate, but she’s not going to challenge her future mother-in-law; even if the woman is miles away, her hearing is excellent, and it’s just not worth the risk.

She follows Denali into the ice cream place, helping her sort through all the flavors for her massive cone with extra rainbow sprinkles (‘what kind of lesbian would I be if I didn’t get rainbow sprinkles, Rosie?’ Denali demands, and Rosé gets extra on her strawberry cone too).

“Okay, I officially ate too much.”

“Again, you literally had three scoops of ice cream and a waffle cone.”

“Don’t remind me.” Denali looks slightly green, and Rosé just hopes this day doesn’t involve vomit. “I just gotta–I gotta walk it off,” Denali says, trying to nod convincingly, easing her hands off her stomach.

“If you throw up, please don’t do it on my shoes.”

“Noted.”

As much as Rosé hates barf, she can’t stop keeping a close eye on Denali as they walk, one steady hand on her back in case she needs it. Denali’s taking measured, trying-not-to-throw-up breaths as they walk, Rosé so focused on her that she barely notices where they’re going.

Denali comes to a sudden stop, her breathing back to normal in an instant, and Rosé finally notices they’re in the park.

And then it hits her.

They had Thai food.

They had ice cream.

They went on a walk together.

And now they’re in the park.

“I think you have something to ask me.” Denali grins smugly, but Rosé’s brain is still lagging, trying to piece together how Denali executed the plan perfectly.

“How did you—I never even told you what the original plan was!” Rosé stammers.

Denali’s smile stretches to her ears. “No, but Jan and Lagoona were more than happy to tell me.”

“Those two and their big mouths.” Rosé shakes her head, but she can’t believe how they teamed up with Denali and went through all this so the proposal could happen the way she dreamt.

“Yep. They also said they were gonna hide in the trees and watch, and I think they were joking, but you never know.”

Rosé cackles. She wouldn’t put it past the two of them to abuse the internet and order those fancy camouflage hunting suits to hide in, and when her quick look at the trees reveals nothing, she wonders if they really did.

“You—you really did all this for me,” Rosé says in wonder. “Lunch and ice cream and pretending to be sick so I was distracted and wouldn’t figure it out.”

As much as she told herself things ended up okay, part of her still wanted to do it, express her love the best way she could. She’s always been one for big, meaningful gestures where she could let out the love bursting inside her. And now she gets to, because of Denali.

“You’re not the only actress in the family,” Denali teases. “I know how much the proposal meant to you, Rosie. I wanted you to be able to do it.” Denali slips her ring off and offers it to Rosé. “Go on, ask.”

Rosé takes the ring and carefully gets down on one knee. Her body is warm from the sun and from love, and the words she finally says are a combination of her planned speech from months ago, and everything bursting in her heart right now.

“Denali, the first time we met was right in this park, at the skating rink. I bumped into you, and when I saw you, I was so glad I’m a shitty skater.” She grins. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I love your passion, and your talent, and your kindness. I love you when you’re screaming over video games, and when you’re in your sad blanket burrito, and even when you drink too much coffee and get too hyper. And you love me too, even when I’m grumpy or I won’t stop singing. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I promise that I will never, ever stop loving you, no matter what. Denali, will you marry me?”

“For the second time, yes, I will.”

She slides the ring on Denali’s finger for the second time, and as she pulls Denali in for a kiss, she knows that, plan or no plan, her life as Denali’s wife will be infinitely perfect.

[elianthvia]

7 Reasons Why I Quit

(only for a little bit)

It has, alas, been another few weeks since I posted. I have an excuse for my unpunctuality: I've been spinning non-stop like a top. The conclusion of the last Zoomester and the start of summer are to blame. I have seven partners in crime.

Culprit 1: Puppetry Workshop

Towards the end of the year, DTI (Design Thinking Initiative), in collaboration with the Theatre Shop, hosted an in-person puppetry workshop where a small number of people could participate per covid protocols. In-person events were few and far between this semester, so of course I rushed to sign up. The workshop ran for about 2 hours on three consecutive Mondays. We met in the theatre shop inside Mendenhall Center for Performing Arts.  

The first day we made shadow puppets (and mine was a bee); the second day we made hand puppets (mine was a ... cyclop ghost king?); the third day we made marionette or string puppets (I attempted to make a teru teru bōzu, but everyone thought it a ghost). I had a lot of fun trying different fabrics, re-learning how to use a bandsaw, and magically joining things together with the help of a hot glue gun. (Side note: Polymer chemistry is the magician behind the scene, and I will be learning more about the science of hot glue guns in the polymer class I am taking next semester!) The workshop was surprisingly not as popular as I anticipated, maybe because people were busy as the semester came to a close. The good news is that DTI will be running the workshop again in the fall so more people will get to participate.

(Is she a ghost or teru teru bōzu?)

Culprit 2: Spring Piano Recital

I did not expect to attend a live concert this semester, but I was invited to the spring piano recital as a "special guest." It is a habit I developed while working as a concert crew at Sage, to sit outside the Sweeney Concert Hall and listen to the rehearsals after I finished setting up the stage. That day I was going to do homework outside the concert hall while waiting for my performing friend to finish. The piano instructor spotted me and asked me if I wanted to join. Disbelieving in my good luck, I accepted the invite. About ten students were scattered in the almost empty concert that felt sad and lonesome, but soon music filled the air. I thoroughly enjoyed every performance. Lots of Chopin were played, but my favorite one is Rhapsody in Blue which just entered the public domain this year. All pieces are about or more than a century old, which is not a surprise, but refreshingly, there is a piece by a female composer, Amy Beach, whose granduncle co-founded Bates College. You can find the full program here.

Culprit 3: End of Classes

The end of classes was epitomized by professor-resembling pixels on our computer screens bidding us goodbye. Usually professors would plan something fun for the last day of classes, virtually as well. 

I remember last semester my Multivariable Calculus professor changed his virtual background to a wall of donuts, explaining that during the pre-pandemic times he used to bring a box of donuts for students on the last day. This semester in Mathematical Methods for Physicists and Engineers, we explored the applications of Fourier Transform by looking at the velocity of a star and detecting the number of planets around it. Our last Circuit Theory lab was in person, where we got to listen to a song/piece of our own choice through the low pass filter and the high pass filter pictured below. The professor handed out prizes (cool items she accumulated in conferences) to students to reward them for their participation in the pre-class trivia games. I received a mini glow moon. In addition, our circuits professor left out end-of-class fun packs with origami papers and stickers outside her office. Our last Organic Chemistry lab was also in-person, where each lab group presented their experiments and findings (through a projector rather than Zoom screen share!) My presentation group decided to dress up for this special occasion after a long year of virtual school. Lastly, for Organic Chemistry, we played organic chemistry jeopardy in our last lecture.

With all the professors wishing you a happy summer, you start daydreaming about the sunny beach and breezy wind. Oh wait, you still have final exams to take. All in three days!

Culprit 4: Final Examinations

This semester we had a three-day final exam study period (or reading period) when professors are not allowed to assign any homework or set deadlines. Right after the reading period is our final exams. Smith is known for its flexibility when it comes to exams thanks to its Honor Code system. Many exams are self-scheduled. Some are open-notes, and some are untimed. In a normal year, students go to Seelye Hall to print out and take the exams when they feel prepared. 

For the classes I am taking this semester, I had three hours to take my Math Methods final, a whole day to take the Circuits Theory final, and the entire finals period to take my Organic Chemistry I final. Besides the exams, I had several other writing assignments to turn in. I was very fatigued at the end of the semester, so even though I only had three exams, I struggled to muster up mental energy to study. To make things worse, I got my second Pfizer shot during the reading period and had a pretty bad reaction. As a result, I asked the class dean to give me an extension on an exam, which was generously granted, and I was gratefully less overwhelmed.

Culprit 5: SmithCycle

The finals are now over, but my vacation didn't start yet. I am staying on campus for a few extra weeks to work for SmithCycle. SmithCycle is a program that collects, sorts and redistributes gently used dorm items students donate in the move-out process at the end of each school year. It gives purpose to items of reusable value and creates a more sustainable campus. In the past week, we have collected hundreds of bags (no exaggerations!) of items. Besides clothes, books, school and dorm supplies, some of the unexpected items include coffee makers, brand new water filters, and a monitor. One of my coworkers commented that first-years shouldn't have to shop clothes hangers again while they were going through three boxes of donated hangers.

The winter clothes we collected are going to the International Students and Scholars Office. They have an event called Winter Clothes Closet every fall where international students "shop" for free to help them get accustomed to the New England weather. School supplies will be moved into the Common Goods Resources Center which CEEDS hopes to launch in Fall 2021 (very exciting!). I cannot plug SmithCycle enough. If you are an incoming first-year, visit the Common Goods Resources center before you head to Target! 

I have always been interested in sustainability and renewable energy and want to get more involved. When I saw the SmithCycle worker position posted on Workday, I immediately applied. Every SmithCycle worker's job varies. I am mainly responsible for washing and drying the linens and blankets. When waiting for the washer and dryer, I help with unloading the van that circulates between houses to pick up bags of donations. I also help with sorting. Pictured below is the inside of Scott Gym where all the items are currently stored.

Culprit 7: Summer Housing

As college transitions into summer, students who are staying on campus for some part of the summer had to move out of their spring housing assignment into their summer housing. I moved from Chapin, the house in central campus, to Capen, which is on the periphery of Smith. I know Chapin and Capen sound alike, but they are very different houses location-wise and personality-wise! To make up for its distance to the academic buildings, Capen House has its own garden, Capen Garden. The garden a gorgeous place many current Smithies are missing out on. There is a mini fountain, hedges, a garden temple, a plant arch, and a bizarre owl statue. Look at the last picture of the garden in this blog, and you will agree with me that the Paradise Pond is overrated.  

Built in 1825 and acquired by Smith in 1921, Capen House is named after Bessie Capen, the second woman to be admitted to MIT. She taught chemistry at Smith College. Fun fact: Bessie Capen was once the associate principal of the Mary A. Burnham School for Girls, now Stoneleigh-Burham School; I went there for horseback riding lessons during my first year at Smith. Small world, right?

Case Closed

Thanks for reading this long-ish explanation. I hope my tardiness in delivering this post may be justified by the causes above. To compensate, I will write about my other summer plans and updates in the next few weeks. Stay tuned! Meanwhile, enjoy your summer!

[astrodances]

Inspired by this post. Prequel to this fic. Accompanied by this art.

*****

Moon

Scrooge stands just out of reach of the cabin, his arms tucked together, the door left open.

He needs the air. He needs space.

Tonight, the woodbin is too small for him and everything racing through his mind. Too crowded for him and a certain metal box, so he lets the box have the bin, and he stretches his legs.

His eyes wander up to the sky, searching.

It seems the spring thaw is allowing for one more show of the aurora borealis right above them before the endless days of the Klondike summer take over. The valley around him glows with colors of shimmering green against treetops and sparkling patches of melting snow, and the creek dances in time with the lights above.

It’s a spectacular sight, like all the splendors of nature have gathered just for him, but it’s not what catches his eye.

Instead, his gaze travels the arc of the sky down to the horizon, where a lone full moon awaits. She’s beautiful, so beautiful and stunning and bright. And golden.

Scrooge can’t believe how golden the moon looks. It’s as if all the power of the sun is shining through her, so that she’s brighter than any gold nugget lying below his feet, or in his lockbox. He can’t stop staring at her, can’t help wanting to brush his fingers over those delicate golden locks again—

Scrooge freezes, and not from the cool night air.

Even out here, his mind keeps automatically wandering back to all the treasures in the cabin behind him, and he turns towards it, sighing. The light of the moon pours through the open doorway, allowing him to see the edge of his woodbin, his table, his chair, the silhouette on his bed...

Deep down, he knows what he has here inside is precious, something to cherish.

But years of life experience insist that it’s a trap. A trap different from any other he’s encountered, what with her feminine wiles and sultry voice, but one ready to ensnare him nevertheless. It’s what she does for a living, just to con men out of their gold, and he curses himself for ever falling for it.

...At least, that’s what he tells his heart. He’s just another snake being lured to the charmer. That must be why his heart keeps fluttering the more he mines gold side by side with her on his claim. Why every comeback from her draws him closer. Why every slip-up about his lockbox makes him turn red.

It must be.

Because there’s no way on Earth that Goldie O’Gilt could ever love—

“Scrooge?”

The duck in question nearly jumps out of his feathers, and he snaps his gaze to the figure leaning against the doorframe of the cabin, arms crossed and her hip jutting out.

He must have zoned out—his face is on fire, he’s sure of it.

When she gets no answer, Goldie continues, a restless night—many of them—thick on her voice, “I know there’s a full moon, but if you think I’m starting work this early, you can just forget about it!”

Scrooge looks between her and over his shoulder at the moon, then shakes his head. “I—no. No...” He can’t bear to look at her now, not yet. “I was jes’ stretching my legs.”

“That’s what you get for sleeping in a woodbin, miner.”

There’s a challenge hidden in her reply, one that he can’t quite make out, but he senses it nevertheless.

So he rises to it.

“Look who’s talking, Miss O’Give-Me-a-Mattress.” He smirks, gaining confidence. “Stiff back keeping you up?”

Goldie grumbles, not in full retreat, but enough for Scrooge to know he’s hit a sore spot, literally. If it wasn’t for him dragging her up to his claim, she’d probably be back in her own warm, comfy bed in Dawson, not facing the onset of early back pain.

But before he can offer any remorse, or answer with some quip about how that’s what she gets for stealing his nugget in the first place, Goldie mutters something akin to “I’ll show you a stiff back,” leans down, and gathers a handful of snow from the patch closest to the cabin. When she stands up straight again, there’s a dangerous glint in her eyes and before he knows what’s happening, Scrooge gets a snowball to the chest that sends him staggering back a few feet.

“And for the record,” Goldie adds, pleased with her shot, but frustrated still. “It wasn’t my back keeping me up, it was someone forgetting to close the door again and letting all the cold in!”

This—this kind of fire, he can deal with. He can fight it.

“Bah! The cold air is good for ye, keeps your mind sharp!” he yells, running to gather up his own snowball from an opposing—and safely-distant—patch. From this angle, he can see more aurorae looming over his cabin. The two sourdoughs, the sky—everything seems to have come out to play tonight.

His snowball grazes the skirt of her dress (he’ll blame the shadows near the cabin for the poor aim later), just as another of hers sails past his ear and a third hits his shoulder.

Goldie’s laughing now, and it’s a sound that Scrooge could listen to forever, were it not for her reason for doing so. “Oh yeah? If that’s the case, then what’s your excuse, Sharpie?” she taunts, already tossing another snowball in her hand.

Yep, the fight is definitely on.

There’s not much in the way of cover except for the sluice and mine shaft, neither of which have enough snow near them, so the impromptu fight morphs into a game of chase around the cabin as time goes on. Insults are thrown just as much as snowballs, but beneath it all, that fire, that longing, burns ever brighter, and Scrooge catches himself smiling more than he’d like to admit.

Yet with a move just as deceitful as the moon can be in how fast she moves, the game comes crashing down.

At some point, Scrooge thinks he’s earned the upper hand and finds himself perched on a low-lying rock a few feet out from a corner of the cabin, giving him a perfect view of both adjacent corners. His arm is poised, snowball ready to strike, and he’s already reveling in the fact that there’s no way Goldie can show herself now without him seeing her first.

Victory is in his grasp, but a piercing whistle from behind him snatches it away.

Goldie doesn’t bother with words.

Scrooge turns, completely perplexed at her levels of stealth, but before he can get out even a baffled “But how?!”, a snowball as hard as his nugget (he briefly considers that this is it, this is the moment she’s decided to steal it again) nails him in his solar plexus, and he goes flying to the ground.

The blow isn’t as bad as he expected it to feel, once the initial shock wears off, but his eyes stay clenched shut for a good few seconds longer than necessary. He can hear Goldie drawing closer, can practically already hear her gloating. But it’s the sensation of her leaning down over him, her legs on either side of his hips and her hands pinning him in place just above his shoulders, that makes him finally open his eyes.

And when he does, he gasps.

If he thought the moon was beautiful before, it has nothing on the sight above him now.

Goldie towers above him, silhouetted by curtains of the glittering green and fiery red spirits of the aurorae dancing against an endless night of stars. The light bounces off her hair as it gently waves in the breeze, highlighting each strand of golden silk thread as they press against her blossoming cheeks. Her dress dazzles and her feathers glow in a halo, and his every breath leaves him.

He’s beholding beauty in its purest form, a glimpse into the heavens, the heart of the universe, he’s certain of it.

There’s a hint of concern hidden in her smirk, but Goldie doesn’t express anything more than a simple, teasing, “I win, Sourdough,” before moving to get back up.

“Don’t,” Scrooge whispers softly, automatically, bringing his hands up to rest on her forearms to stop her.

Goldie takes on a look of confusion even as her blushing deepens, but he can’t help it. He can’t let her go, not now. Not yet. Not until he’s mesmerized every defining curve, every flame of light filling his view.

And her eyes. Her eyes seem to hold every answer he’s ever searched for. He can see reflections of snow, of the lights, even of himself (and how red his face is), alongside a realization that hits him hard, bringing time to a standstill for him.

He’s in love. With Goldie O’Gilt.

Scrooge audibly gulps, quickly becoming aware of the electricity between them and how close she truly is.

“Scrooge?”

He’s not sure what she wants to ask, only that the tension in her arms has relaxed under his grip. He takes that as invitation enough to lift a slow, trembling hand up to caress her cheek, letting his fingers weave into her hair. For all the time he spent looking at the lock of hair in his strongbox, admiring its softness, nothing can compare to the real thing.

“You... I...” he begins, his pulse racing. There’s no way he can tell her, not what’s really on his mind, in his heart.

So he shows her instead, tugging her closer to him to meet in a kiss that causes the lights above to roar with energy, a month’s worth of suspense melting into every second. She answers the call of his heart, and to his delight, he finds hers waiting for him to claim it.

And thus, under the flickering gaze of the aurora and moon, of power and beauty, their dance begins.

[elizabethvaughns]

so i've been mulling over this for quite a bit now, so i might as well articulate my thoughts and get them out onto this blog. so i was just thinking: subjectively or objectively, which one is better? the if/then dc preview or the broadway production? long post (1750+ words), so i'm putting a read more break <3

now, objectively at the very least, i know i have to say it's the broadway production. why wouldn't it be? it's a lot more polished, it's...the final draft, of sorts, of the production. we all know the final draft is usually better than the rough draft. but here's the thing. when it comes to an artwork that has several different versions, one tends to gravitate toward the version they saw first and have a certain bias against all the other versions. if you saw the bway version first or the dc version first, you probably like that one more. now i'm not saying this bias is conscious by any means. absolutely not. however, when one falls in love with some media, in my case at least, they take it in over and over and over again. and then they get so used to that one thing that all other versions seem weird. i can pinpoint two non-if/then instances in my life where such a thing happened.

in the summer of 2018, i watched the RENT movie on netflix. now i was fully intending to listen to the obc soundtrack before watching the movie, but i never really got to it. anyways, that movie was like love at first...watch to me. oh man, i loved it so, so much. so i downloaded the soundtrack on my phone and, you guessed it, listened to it over and over and over and over again. one fine day, (about a few weeks after, actually) i realized i never actually had listened to the obc soundtrack. so i did. and it sounded...odd to say the very least. i mean, some of the voices were different, sometimes the lines were changed, all in all, a confusing experience. to say the least, if you asked me back then which version i preferred, i would've readily said the movie version. but now, three years in retrospect, i'm not so sure. the obc version is a lot more...complete, i like the vocals more, and i'm now salty that "christmas bells" as a song was cut. evidently, i like the obc version more(but i still love the movie version hell it's still one of my comfort movies).

in the fall of 2019, i listened to falsettos. i actually listened to both the obc and the 2016 revival cast recordings. i guess that lessened the bias a bit because i was exposed to both versions at about the same time. on the fateful date of 2 october 2019, i watched the falsettos revival proshot. that's when i truly fell in love with this musical. but, even so, my initial exposure was to both recordings so even though i had a slight bias toward the 2016 version, i still loved both of them.

now, back to if/then. i actually find it difficult to pinpoint where exactly my exposure to if/then started. was it the very first time i heard about it in 2018 when i read a very meta RENT fanfic on ff.net where elizabeth made an appearance and i thought "what the fuck"(pun very much intended)"is if/then" (psst if you find the fic could you please drop the link in the replies meta fic isn't really my shit but i want to reread it for nostalgia's sake)? or was it the very first time i listened to the obc recording in 2020? or was it the boot of a broadway production that i first saw on 13 march 2021? whichever one i pick, they all lead to the same conclusion: i naturally gravitated(and sometimes still do) toward the broadway production because it was the first version of if/then that i was exposed to.

now sometime in early april 2021 over my spring break, i watched a recording of the dc production. i knew beforehand that this production is a preview, after which some changes had been made, resulting in the broadway show. since those changes were obviously made to better the production, it would be a logical conclusion that the very presence of those changes entailed a...worse production (not considering the fact that the interpretation and the very liking of art is entirely subjective). one could say i entered the watching experience with an unconscious bias, of sorts.

from the very first note, i was caught off-guard. i didn't know they changed this much. when i watched the bway production, i was just enjoying it for all it was worth. but when i was watching the dc preview, i was comparing it constantly to its broadway counterpart. oh, david's shirt colour is different here. oh, anne's wearing a pantsuit instead of a dress(cute). oh, time for hey kid! oh wait no they put "the moment explodes" right here. also, i was just humming along to the songs, just mouthing along the lyrics(because i have them all memorized), and every now and then and getting thrown way off-track when the tune remained the same but the lyrics changed. most notably, in "walking by a wedding" and "you learn to live without". all in all, i had what one could consider negative opinions about the dc production because of that bias.

but then i watched it second time. a third time. a fourth, fifth, sixth time. and over that time, i fell more and more in love with that production. as i've said before, the interpretation of art is wholly subjective–what one may consider a shortcoming of a particular piece, another may consider a strength. let me take the placement of "the moment explodes", for example. in the dc production, it's before "some other me". therefore, the line "every friend i ever knew or thought i did" doesn't hit as hard because we don't know her situation with lucas yet. even so, "some other me" hits twice as hard because lucas is an even bigger asshole now. in comparison, however, "the moment explodes" is after "some other me" in bway as you all know. so the aforementioned line holds a much greater significance when compared to its dc counterpart. however, one could also consider that line (in the dc production) as a sort of foreshadowing for the reveal in "some other me" of the new normal of beth and lucas's friendship (or the lack thereof).

obviously, some changes were most definitely welcome, "this day" to be more specific. of course, there was that little reprising of "what if?" near the end of "this day" in the dc production which i really loved, but all in all, the mood of "this day" was much more fun and enthusiastic in bway as opposed to dc, which in my opinion is an excellent way to start an act. in contrast, some changes were...not as welcome. i don't know about you, but personally, i really enjoyed two cut scenes from "the story of jane"("no more wasted time" dc version). first, the scene where kate brings her kindergarteners to beth. it was fun to see higgs squirm. second, the scene where elena and beth's interaction parallels beth and stephen's in "map of new york". narrative-wise, i think that it is an incredibly important scene as we get to see two sort of boss-employee relationships mirrored to each other, only beth does it well as a boss (if that makes any sense). we see beth as passionate but still sort of hesitant in mony but she grows to be more self-assured by nmwt, and i think the aforementioned scene only cements that notion as beth takes on the role of mentor for elena. also, "the story of jane" was a really fun song and, as much as i love "no more wasted time", i wish it still contained elements of "story of jane". and while i did enjoy the reshuffling of "the moment explodes" such that it became clear when beth and lucas made up in the bway production, they were ultimately still...not talking during "you learn to live without. as a result, we miss that one scene from the dc production where lucas and kate attend beth's awards ceremony and shoo stephen. and need i talk about the lucas/david duet verse("you get that we're connected, / i feel like you get me") in "ain't no man manhattan"? honestly, i feel like dc anmm was, all in all, better than bway anmm–especially that one verse where lucas sings to this other dude about how everyone is connected(no, not the one to stephen, the one after that. the one that ends with "[something something] / who you helped get elected").

also the situations with stephen and with kate/anne in both timelines were relatively clearer in the dc production. even so, the actual distinguishing of the timelines was better in the bway production.

in conclusion, the relative merit of each production(broadway vs. dc) is really up to the interpretation of each viewer. scenes that may seem weak to one may be considered narratively important to another. both productions have their own merits and flaws.

to me, both productions are equally good. my previous assertion/assumption that the final draft is always better than the first is not necessarily true. some things that you think were actually pretty good get lost in the editing process. some other things that should've been cut (ahem ahem, kate's referrals to lucas with "she", ahem ahem, liz's "i don't believe in independents like i don't believe in bisexuals. pick a side" line) get left in there. art is subjective. the editing process is subjective. in the end, though, the only thing that matters is that you enjoy what you're watching and find personal fulfillment in it. and i do! for both of these productions. for both of the productions, i'm smiling all the way up to "here i go". i'm slightly saddened during "you don't need to love me". i'm empowered by "the story of jane"/"no more wasted time". i'm grinning in liz-verse all the way up to "i hate you". i feel like sobbing during "some other me". my throat clogs up when "i hate you" starts. i'm actually sobbing by the time "you learn to live without" ends.

...you get the gist of it. all in all, both of these productions are phenomenal and i'm grateful for their existence and to have been able to watch them in the year of our lord 2021.

i love this show so much i swear.

i talk a bit more comparing broadway and dc here.

my other ramblings essays:

if/then appreciation

"what if?" vs. "what if?(reprise)"

character analysis of lucas

[oftenderweapons]

Small Town Swoons

Hello buttercups! Here is the big fat project I was talking about. I am giving you snippets and teasers of the whole thing, just to let you know what you’re all getting yourself into. 

There are some spicy tidbits here and there, so I would suggest only mature (18+) people read and/or engage with this post. 

I’ll be starting with Yoongi since his piece is really in the holiday spirit and I’m super hella inspired to write it, but don’t worry, Steamy waters is still coming (just know that I’m not done publishing stuff for the night 👀)

Let me know what you think about this project, what story you like the most and which one you really really look forward to reading 💕✨

Just in case you need it, here is my masterlist

Enjoy 💜

Apple of My Pie — Jin

In the bakery and café near the university many students barge in, desperate for coffee and the delicious apple pies served there once October comes. Some of them barge in for the sweet sight of the owner, still mysteriously single. Little do you know that he’s been pining after you for years, since you ran into his café in a slow, rainy Sunday morning, drenched like a stray kitten, asking only for friendly help. Friendship sparks easily and his comfort tastes as sweet as autumn apples. That’s how you find yourself flatmates, watching movies with his secret recipe hot cocoa on Saturday evenings and waking up to the delicious scent of his pies on Sunday morning. But the sudden apparition of a rival makes you wonder, what would it be like to fall asleep in his bed every night?

Mold Me New — Taehyung

Divorce is a mess, especially when you’re so young and you had bet your life on your high school crush. All those things you never had to learn are scary now: dating, friends with benefits, all those secret rules on social interactions and flirting. But then your friends gift you a clay modelling lesson at the local pottery. Your teacher looks like a quiet, grumpy man who slowly warms up to you, offering you his kind smiles and gentle laughs. Right when fear that your lack in courtship manners might cost you your greatest chance at a new happiness, his lessons indirectly turn into small advice, and suddenly it feels like his hands are shaping your heart into the perfect, beautiful whole you needed. And to show him your gratitude, you’re more than willing to gift the artist his creation.

“Don’t let it dry too much. Too much water will mess it up. It will become too pliant and it won’t hold up.” That was it. The rule to love. You had bathed him in reassurance and affection, and just like that he had melted underneath your touch, and he had turned into nothing. And the love had run out. “Every shape has its specific requirements.” He explained, dipping his hands in the basin and letting the droplets fall from his fingertips. “Wet hands, but not drenched.” Once he was happy with the result he sat up, his foot starting a small pressure on the pedal. “See, here we go. The clay will show how much water it needs. Easy on the pedal. Very slow. You’re warming it up. Be gentle. You’re not sure it’s good. Just like with people. Easy at first, and once it works you speed up.” He smiled at the material underneath his hands. “Gentle. Easy.” He said, his sinewy fingers gently pressing into the art piece to be. His fingers seemed to stretch and bend imperceptibly, as if he was feeling the very texture of the material, and of the final result he wanted to obtain. “That’s the secret to good things.”

The Shrew, Untamed — Jimin

Everyone gets married in small towns. The hairdresser’s daughter, the butcher’s niece, the doctor’s granddaughter. Even your best friend. And someone has to organise all the weddings. You have taken part in so many it is unnerving. You’re not asking for a husband, a simple fuckbuddy would suffice. You don’t even need someone with skill, you just need to have sex with a human. Though your goal seems unattainable and life apparently truly sucks, the petty florist where you order the flower arrangements offers you a beacon of hope, comforting you and spoiling you whenever you visit his shop, condescending to your every whim. Will he satisfy your every wish or will you have to supervision your best friend’s wedding on the verge of sanity?

“Sit down, sweet pea.” He said, offering you his chair. He immediately stood behind you, digging his fingers into your shoulders, massaging them. He always smelled like greenery. It was relaxing. “Who pissed on your roses, tiger?” He asked, his thumbs drawing circles at the base of your neck. You moaned and closed your eyes. “Poor baby. So stressed.” He purred, laughing. “Portia is getting married.” You groaned. He ohed. “Your friend, Portia?” You frowned and pouted. “That bitch. Portia.” You growled. He laughed a silvery sound. “It’s your best friend.” “It’s a stressed out insult. She wants me to plan it. Jimin, I am so tired of watching people getting married.” He kneaded the nerves near to your spine. “It’s a professional hazard, baby’s breath.” His finger stilled as he reached the middle of your back without finding the clasp of your bra. He moved upwards, ignoring the small detail. “It’s the third in two weeks. I can’t. Is everybody getting married this spring?” You asked, your head rolling forward. “I’m tired. Stressed. Grumpy.” You whine. “Baby, you have your sugarcane at home, use it.” He said, referring to your swirl shaped dildo. You shook your head. “It’s the warmth. Human touch. Sympathy.” Ask me, please — Jimin mentally begged — I’ll be so sweet to you. “And now I even need a plus one for Portia’s wedding. Lest she pairs me up with her cousin. Did I mention that he’s thirty and bald?” You sighed. “I can help.” He said. “With the Plus one.” He clarified. “Don’t expect me to get my fingers in your pie, blossom.” He stated. You shook your head. “Your loss.” You tutted. His loss, for sure. Not like you wanted him massaging your breasts as you sucked him off, laying on your white silk sheets, his dulcet moans filling your lonely room and your empty

Natural Connection — Namjoon

The city sucks. And before you definitely choose to resign from your job, you spend the money earned with your all-work-and-no-play attitude in a reinvigorating holiday in a natural resort in the woods. What you find is true heaven on earth, an eden of wonders and explorations. When you meet your guide, who will follow you and you alone, you almost cannot believe your luck. The closed-off man leads you through all the breathtaking sights of your location, offering you emotions and landscapes unrivalled — both in terms of wildlife and... well, humans? The steamy atmosphere seems to keep growing hotter together with the summer days, and before you can think twice your big friendly giant helps you get rid of the hots. What happens when your Adam and Eve idyllium gets interrupted by a ruckus of stag-partying jocks?

Namjoon knew your average blood pressure at rest and under effort, your shoe size, your weight and height. Still when he found you right before him he could barely believe the sight of you. He knew you were small but this small? He was surprised. Amazed. Completely dazzled by your size. “Uhm. Kim Namjoon?” You asked, hesitant. God, even your voice was small — he noticed. As you got even closer, he realised you barely reached his sternum. He was endeared. He imagined how hugging you would feel. Why was he imagining to hug a stranger? “Hello! Welcome to the Valley!” He said, offering you his hand. You took it and shook it energetically. “Thank you. I assume you will be my guide during my stay.” You commented. “Exactly. I'll be your coach and your guide through the whole experience.” “Perfect.” You smiled. He was dumbstruck by it. So sweet and bright. You noticed he had a nice voice. And a kind smile. He looked like a very gentle giant. “Have you brought any specific equipment with you or would you prefer to use the one we offer?” “I have trekking boots and walking sticks. You know, basic stuff that's difficult to find when you're the size of a teapot.” He laughed a loud belly laugh, which surprised you and pleased you. “Okay, we can head to the hall and chat about your activity plan.” He said, leading you. Walking behind him was definitely a hard challenge, both because his legs were kilometric — and damn fine — and because how could you not stare at that ass right in front of your gaze, clad in oh-so tight shorts? Once he realized you were basically running behind him, he turned, a bit confused. And then embarrassed. “Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly, taking shorter steps. "Don't worry, it's okay. I'm a fast walker." You stated. He grinned. He barely stopped himself from murmuring a 'cute'. You were adorable.

Ink ‘n’ Run — Jungkook

People find awful ways to inculcate mean insecurities in our lives. It is to get rid of insecurity that you head to the talented tattooist in a small town near your campus, ready to ink your fears away. Ready to start from zero, you let yourself enjoy a night out clubbing and a steamy one night stand with a tattoed god. Hit by the morning-after regrets, you run away before he wakes up. Little do you know that he’ll be the man you’ll be spending several hours underneath, half-naked as he inks you. Such a shame that you keep running away each time he is ready to ask you for a date. And that he keeps running away after you convince yourself to concede him one. Will you manage to let each other see that you click perfectly or will you let that night be just an accident?

“Oh. You’re back. Lovely to see you, how can I help you?” He looks sweet. God, he was sweet, of course he looks sweet; you thought. He was the most gentle man you had ever been with. Wicked hips, but such a sweet mouth. “Uhm, I have an appointment?” You said, showing him the business card with the date and time of your appointment. “Oh.” His expression was the perfect depiction of confusion. “Uhm. I guess you can come into my studio, then. Do you have someone with you? Would you like Daisy to come in?” He said, looking at the girl sitting at the reception table. “No, I’m cool.” You forced yourself to form a tiny, polite smile on your face. As he walked ahead of you you noticed the way his tight black t-shirt hugged his narrow waist. And his wonderful, jeans-clad, toned ass. God, he had rammed into you like a mad man that night. You shook your head, trying to bring yourself back to reality. Meanwhile, his mind was fuelled by millions of questions. Why had you run? Were you freaked out by what was happening? Were you as affected as he was at the idea of him working on you? Did you think he was a fuckboy? Would you let him take you out on a date? Would you let him fuck you again? Wait, scratch the last one.

Head over Heals — Hoseok

You are the most talented ice skater of your state. Or rather, you were. Your career was harshly interrupted by an unfortunate accident. Healing from the hurtful events takes strong nerves and positive energy. Luckily, your physiotherapist — the neighbour of your childhood home — is the most positive, enthusiastic person. New feelings bloom like daisies on a warm spring morning, while old feelings rekindle and light your way back home like a field of fireflights, back to places that you’ve always loved. It takes little time to get used again to his sweet energy and his gentle hands, healing your body and your soul. It takes even less time to fall head over heels for him.

“What changed?” He asked, drying your tear with his thumb. “I don’t know. It feels like it changed.” He smiled. “You’re still the same to me. Same bright eyed little girl running around in a summer dress, smelling like honey shampoo and sun cream. You feel like home. I think nothing has been okay since you were gone.” Your heart took a second to melt and resolidify around that new truth. “Hobi.” His eyes were glittering. “I think I always had a soft spot for you. You and your knees always scraped, the small curls framing your face, the way your braids came undone that night as we were driving away after prom in the convertible your parents ran away in when they eloped.” He looked so sad. And so beautiful. “Hoseok, I never forgot you, you know. You were my first.” You confessed. “And you were mine.” He replied. He paused. “We were perfect.” “We were.” You replied. We still could be. We are.

Sugar and Spice — Yoongi

A new girl moves into town, her goal starting her life from scrap. And then on a foggy autumn night she ventures in the local pub, where she meets a cute, tattooed bartender who happens to be the local sweetheart. Fate — and the sweet granny next door — seem to push them together; it’s only a matter of time before feelings bloom and attraction becomes too intense to resist. The magic of a small town, and that loneliness that they share and understand so deeply, bring them close at the most wonderful time of the year. Love can blossom even in the dead of winter and who knows, maybe they’ll find a new life by the time of the new year?

“How does it feel to live in a small town?” You asked, stretching your legs out the flannel blanket. Sunlight came in through the yellow leaves of the apple trees. “Like time doesn’t really exist. Until you don’t have any left and suddenly your friends are getting married and having children and all you have is a useless piece of paper stating that you’re a doctor.” He said. “But it’s okay. It’s lovely, at times like this.” He said, looking at the sky. “Marriage and kids are overrated.” You said, laying down. He looked at you, your eyes closed, your hair coming out of his beanie, currently covering your head. “Don’t leave me alone here.” You had a beauty he had never known. Or that maybe he had seen in his mother. That rough, tough beauty that looks dangerous from afar. Delicate from up close. You weren’t gracious. You weren’t cobwebs and golden hair and clouds. You were the ground, the trees, the stone. You were the mountains capped in ice, beautiful and so endangered. Still, so steady. You were the forest, eternal. Nothing could marr you. No man, no humanly disgrace. You would weather and transform, like nature does. Maybe he was idealising you, maybe he was giving you all those traits he had always wished in a woman. “Stop staring at me. Lay down. Enjoy your seconds before you turn into a fifty-something lonesome worm.” You teased. He laid. Your hand found his. “I’ll tell you how a small town feels like, based on the opinion of a girl from a big city.” He exhaled a laugh. “It’s comfort. Like when it rains outside but you’re in your bed and you’re warm and you don’t have to get up. You can simply lay.” He rolled onto his side, staring at your eyelashes. If I blink, will she disappear?