#i always seem to remember my not-so-fun dreams with perfect clarity compared to the ones tht are more silly and not based in reality

[stardust-make-a-wish]

.💭

[maddieinwonder]

Bait & Switch

Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, super fluffy 

Word Count: 3.5k words 

Plot: Reader reveals that they’re going to buy a Nintendo Switch so Spencer invites them to go together with him. In the process, some feelings reveal themselves.  

Author’s Note: My first time writing about Spencer, and actually, my first time writing a fic in a long time haha. Just imagine that this takes place in 2017, although you don’t have to know anything about the Switch in order to read this.

Masterlist

-------------- 

"What's got you in such a good mood, baby?" Derek asked, leaning over his chair. Even without looking up, you could feel the smirk that decorated his face. After almost a month at the BAU, you didn’t need to be a profiler to expect this much from Derek. "Got a date this weekend?"

You tried to focus on your paperwork before relenting, rolling your eyes. Still, you couldn't hide the smile in your voice when you shot back a reply. "With this job? You wish, Morgan."

"Give yourself some credit, beautiful. With your looks I'm sure you could score a good looking fellow for a night you won't forget."

"I'm sure you would know all about that," you replied, this time grinning from ear to ear.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your seat has always been across Derek Morgan. The guy was a terrible flirt but also one of the most trustworthy people you knew, so you couldn't keep up a sarcastic mood for long.

"Actually," you replied genuinely, "I'll be lining up this weekend to buy a Nintendo Switch." Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense Spencer stiffen in his chair next to you.

"A what switch?" Derek asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

But before you could begin to reply him, Spencer rolled his chair over and opened his mouth. The both of you knew what was coming.

"The Nintendo Switch. A video game console developed by Japanese company Nintendo that's completely one-of-its-kind, on account of its console functioning like a tablet that can either be docked on a home console and linked to a TV, or used as a portable device with two wireless controllers so you can..."

Not being able to help yourself, you giggled at his info dump. You've always admired how much knowledge he could store in his big brain. But more importantly, you thought he was kind of cute like this. A fire would light in his eyes and it seemed like the world around him ceased to exist.

You only realised you were staring at Spencer when the last bits of his question registered in your mind. "...you going to?"

Blinking your eyes, you snapped to attention. Derek seemed to notice, because you felt his signature smirk return to his face.

"Which store are you going to?" Spencer repeated the question. Anybody else might be annoyed, but he only seemed mildly restless. A rare look for the unathletic genius.

"I'm going to the one three blocks down from here," you replied.

"So am I!" Spencer sat upright in his chair, beaming. You think that this is the most excitement he's expressed to you since you joined the BAU.

Then his confidence seemed to waver. He began tugging at the edge of his sleeve, eyes glancing to the side at nothing in particular when he asked, "W-would you like t-to go together?"

A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it. "Sure! Sounds like fun."

Spencer grinned back, and there was a moment of silence before Derek interrupted the conversation that he began. "Well, I'll leave you and lover boy to plan your date. I'm going to spend my Friday night at the bar."

Your heart thumped involuntarily at the word "date", while Derek turned to Emily. "Hey Prentiss, you want to grab a few drinks and dinner? I'm sure I can get the others to leave work for one night."

"Anything's better than this," Emily shrugged, lifting her mug of already-cold coffee.

Standing up to retrieve her bag, she smirked at you and Spencer, having heard more of the conversation than she let on. "Have a great weekend, you lovebirds. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

She and Derek shared a laugh as they moved towards the Batcave to retrieve Garcia next.

As you watched them go, you feel Spencer's eyes on you and a flush warming your cheeks. You knew they were just teasing you with the word "date", but the truth is you've liked the genius almost as soon as you met him.

You may not have an eidetic memory, but you could still remember the flutter of butterflies that exploded in your chest when you first laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid.

He had waved from a comfortable distance, the other hand tucked in the pocket of his dark slacks. He towered over you easily with curly locks that barely touched his sweater vest, and you swore you've never seen anybody more attractive in your life. His intelligence only added to your attraction. 

"Shall I pick you up at 7am tomorrow?"

You turned back to Spencer, who seemed even more nervous now that everybody in the bullpen had left. Yet what he was proposing was rather bold compared to his usual behaviour.

“Pick me up?” You repeated.

“It’ll be easier to find a parking spot that way, and the weather report predicts that tomorrow will be a sunny day, so I know you’d rather not walk three blocks to the store.” He rambled nervously.

“You know me well, Spencer.” A cheeky smile snuck onto your face, and in a moment of false bravado, you said what was on your mind. “7am. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s face turned beet red.

You didn’t wait to dwell on his reaction, dumping the last of your paperwork into a pile and picking up your bag. But as you walked to the elevator, you couldn’t help yourself from grinning ear to ear. It was a date. Kind of.

-------------- 

You couldn’t sleep. You had gotten home earlier than usual, but the extra time to plan for your “date” tomorrow proved to be a bad idea.

What would you wear? What would you talk about? Should you extend it to a meal, or dessert, or maybe coffee?

Although you were confident in the moment, you were beginning to regret teasing Spencer before you left. You’d known him long enough to know how he reacted to embarrassment, and there’s a good chance he might back away because of your forwardness. 

You groaned, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. The reality of the "date" was sinking in now. This would be the first time that you and Spencer would be alone in a non-work setting. To say that you were nervous was a gross understatement. 

But there was something worse than showing up nervous, which was showing up nervous and sleep-deprived, so you turned off your bedside lamp and tried to will yourself to sleep. That's when your phone began to buzz.

You were so on edge that the sound almost made you fall off your bed. Turning over your phone, your heart leapt to your throat.

Spencer, 2:03am: Sorry to disturb you when it's so late, but I realised I don’t have your address. Could you send it to me when you're awake?

You gulped. Just relax, just relax, you repeated in your head.

Me, 2:05am: It’s alright, you didn’t wake me up. I’ll attach my address below.

Spencer, 2:06am: Thanks. Having trouble sleeping?

Me, 2:07am: A little

Spencer, 2:08am: Me too.

What was I supposed to reply to that? You silently screamed. But it turned out you didn't have to figure it out.

Spencer, 2:11am: To be honest, I'm a little nervous about tomorrow.

Me, 2:13am: Why?

Spencer, 2:15am: I suppose it’s because we've never spent any time alone before.

Hearing the genius act so shy made you feel a little more brave.

Me, 2:16am: Well, I'm looking forward to the chance

Spencer, 2:17am: I am too.

Despite your nerves, you smiled at his small confession.

Spencer, 2:19am: We should get some sleep.

Me, 2:19am: I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Spence

Spencer, 2:20am: Sweet dreams.

Your anxieties were washed away and replaced with the biggest smile on your face. Without knowing it, Spencer’s words rippled a sense of calm over you, and you fell asleep shortly after. 

The next morning, you woke up with a newfound clarity. You knew what you were going to wear. 

-------------- 

Spencer couldn't stop tapping the edge of his steering wheel. He knew he was nervous, and admitting it to you last night didn't do much to stop that fact from eating away at him.

He texted you 3 minutes ago that he was waiting outside your apartment, but you hadn't replied. Although he knew that there were plenty of logical reasons why you might have missed his text, his hands didn't stop itching to call you and see if you were alright.

Then out of the corner of his eye, you emerged from the corridor and he felt his heart speed up.

You were wearing a blue flannel that he'd never seen you in before with a pair of dark jeans. Your hair, which you usually kept in a up-do at work, was let down in waves, touching your shoulders. And then there was the pièce de résistance, you were wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt with the TARDIS on it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He didn't break his gaze on you the entire time you got into his car. Even when you beamed at him and wished him a good morning, a small yawn escaping your perfect lips, he was completely tongue-tied.

"Earth to Spencer," you called out, looking up at him curiously. "You there?"

Spencer shook his head suddenly, cursing himself internally for being such a doofus. "Sorry, uh, I was distracted. Good morning." He smiled sheepishly, tucking a stray hair strand behind his ear.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee before we headed to the store? We can make it quick. I know there'll be some people already lining up."

He peeked at you rubbing your eyes and thought it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. “Looks like you might need it," he said without realising he'd just flirted with you.

You giggled, lowering your hands from your face. "Sounds great." 

-------------- 

Spencer wasn't lying when he said it'd be quick, although in truth you could have taken all the time in the world and you would still be happy. The initial awkwardness between you washed away almost immediately as you fell into a quiet conversation about your favourite Doctor Who episodes. 

You wanted to commit the sight of him driving in the morning to memory. The sun had just rose, lighting a gentle halo around Spencer’s messy hair and sculptured face. He was wearing a bigger sweater than usual, the sleeves hanging around his wrists loosely. While his eyes were focused on the road, his lips parted slightly as he softly bantered with you about David Tennant. 

You felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and kiss him despite the driving hazard. And despite the fact that you’ve never kissed him, of course. But you could hope. And hope you did. 

Your hope had grown when he parked in front of the coffee house you’d once mentioned was your favourite. Spencer made your coffee order perfectly and you had found yourself hoping that it was because he’d paid extra attention to you, and not because of his brilliant memory. 

And when you reached the video game store and he opened the door for you, you hoped it was because he wanted to make a good impression, not only because he was a gentleman. 

And when he stood between you and a video game rack in line, you hoped that he was trying to shield you from the other people in the store, and you hoped that he was thinking of pressing you against the rack and kissing the daylights out of you. 

You needed to get a hold of yourself. 

The conversation had swapped to the reason why you two were here in the first place, and you found yourself talking to Spencer about Breath of the Wild, a game that brought you back to fond memories of your childhood. 

“The Legend of Zelda was the first video game I ever played, on the first console I ever owned.” You shared, smiling fondly. “It was the video game that my brother and I bonded over, and we bought every game together since.”

Spencer nodded in rapt. You felt him leaning closer to you, although it may have been your imagination. 

“This is actually the first time I haven’t been with him for a new game,” you realised. “Due to our jobs, we haven’t seen each other in awhile, but we still text each other!” You tried to end on a lighter note, not wanting to bring the mood down on this “date”.

Spencer looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but he kept his lips shut. 

“What about you? What was your first video game?” You threw the question to him, trying to divert attention away from your sad-enough story. 

He blushed in response to your question and looked down at his black converse. You noticed he began touching his sleeve in a familiar motion and you looked at him suspiciously. “Spencer?”

“W-well, the t-truth is, I didn’t actually c-come here to buy a Switch, and I don’t play video games at all.“ The last part of his sentence came out rapidly. You might have missed it, if you weren’t already used to the tongue twisters he spit out on a daily basis.

“What?” You exclaimed a little too loudly, causing the other shoppers in line to glance at you weirdly. “Then... Then what are you doing here?” You said quieter this time. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind scanned the possibilities. 

“W-well, I, uh, wanted to spend time with you,” he blurted out. He raised his eyes to meet yours, his face completely red.

It was your turn to be flustered now. Your voice was quiet and you could feel your hands shaking. “Is this a date, Spencer?” 

“Only if you want it to be, I mean, I want it to be but your opinion matters to me, and I wouldn’t want to bring you on a date if you didn’t want to. We can just hang out like friends if that’s more comfortable--” 

You grabbed his free hand, gently lowering it from where it was moving as he rambled, until your fingers were intertwined. 

“I would like it to be,” a large smile took over your face. You were a little teary despite how weird it was to confess your feelings for him in a video game store of all places. 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, squeezing your hand in return. “Would you like to go for lunch after this? As a date,” he clarified this time. 

"I would love that,” you beamed at him, “as a date.” 

-------------- 

Spencer had always imagined the kind of girl he would fall in love with. Caring, intelligent, had an appreciation for classic literature, maybe. But when he saw you for the first time, every expectation he held flew out of the window.  

You were beautiful. Wavy dark hair tied into a high ponytail, wearing a navy shirt, and funnily enough, a beige cardigan and black converse. Morgan joked that it was like meeting Spencer 2.0, but he disagreed: the two of you were worlds apart. 

You were incredibly tech savvy, although not as much as Garcia, but certainly more than the rest. You loved the smell and taste of coffee without sugar. You were happy to hug everybody you met, from colleagues to victims. You didn’t like paperback so you read everything on a Kindle. 

But the biggest difference between the two of you, was that you were emotionally intelligent. 

All of your brilliance, combined with your PhD in psychology - having worked as a psychiatrist affiliated with Sex Crimes before joining the BAU - you were able to pick out the team’s moods from a single glance. It’s what endeared everyone to you immediately, and what made you such a great profiler.   

But the way you treated him was different. You just, listened to him. While everyone else had gotten into the habit of cutting him off or simply ignoring him when he opened his mouth, your eyes would light up instead. 

He could always tell you were listening because you would look into his eyes when he spoke, and you would ask him questions after he was done. 

It made him feel like the world around him ceased to exist, except for you. 

So he started studying your interests to grab your attention, trying to throw in a few jokes hoping to see you smile. It only took one month for him to seize his chance. Still, never in his calculations did he think you would say yes. 

He smiled at the thought, stroking your hair gently as you cuddled on the couch together, watching you play Breath of the Wild. 

After a more than successful first date, you had asked him to come over the next day to spend more time together. A month ago, he would have politely declined with an excuse like needing to read a new academic journal, but when he arrived at your doorstep he allowed himself to be drawn into your arms, relishing the giggle he earned as a reward for being hugged. 

“Damn it,” you grumbled quietly as you ran out of stamina scaling a cliffside for the fifth time.

Spencer laughed. Without a second thought, he pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. 

In the background Link fell off the cliff once again, the game playing a sound that he came to recognise as Link dying. But there were no curses this time, as you had turned to look at Spencer, nothing but adoration in your eyes. 

“That was our first kiss,” you said so quietly and sweetly that Spencer’s heart melted at the sound of it. 

“First?” He took his chance, leaning closer. “You know, the usage of the word ‘first’ almost always implies that there will be a ‘second’ and a ‘third’ and a...” 

His voice trailed off as your fingers left the controller to touch his lips. Your touch was intoxicating and he wanted more. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Spence,” you started, lifting your finger from his lips. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he managed to get out in a hurry before capturing your lips in his. He felt your astonishment at first, but you quickly lost yourself in the kiss as he brought his hands up to cup the sides of your face, deepening the kiss further. 

You finally broke apart after awhile, both panting for air and smiling widely. Spencer never thought he could be so lucky. “That’s the second one,” he said quietly, bringing up two fingers to indicate the number. 

You looked at him with love in your eyes and abandoned your controller on the table before throwing yourself at him, flattening the two of you against your couch. 

“Ready for the third?”

-------------- 

Derek Morgan wasn’t an idiot. That’s why he could tell that something had changed over the weekend between his desk mate and boy genius. 

The two came into work together on Monday morning, which was weird in itself, but they also took every opportunity to stick to each other, from coffee breaks to disappearing for lunch and “asking” about paperwork. 

When they vanished for the umpteenth time that day for coffee, Derek leaned over Emily’s desk to confirm his theory. 

“It’s not just me. Pretty boy finally made a move, didn’t he?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Definitely. Those two are so obvious that even Hotch has picked up on it. From his office.” She quipped, grinning as her eyes moved to the scene behind Derek. “Speak of the devil.” 

Entering the conversation, Spencer did what he did best. “Did you know that ‘speak of the devil’ is the short form of the idiom ‘speak of the devil and he doth appear’? The phrase can be traced back to the 16th century when mentioning the devil was considered prohibited. In fact, when people were caught saying the phrase--” 

Derek caught your eyes drifting to look adoringly at Spencer. He couldn’t take this anymore. “So what happened between you two last weekend, huh?” he interrupted, smirking. 

Your reaction was better than he gambled. You turned a bright red and your eyes darted between Spencer and Derek in panic, truly flustered for the first time since he’s met you. But Spencer was strangely calm, his eyes travelling from his best friend to Emily in the background trying to stifle her laughter, while a small smile tugged at his lips. 

“We’re dating now,” he announced to the two a little triumphantly, while rubbing your shoulder as a peaceful gesture. 

Derek and Emily were stunned by their friend’s directness, only to be shocked out of it as Hotch walked by. “Finally,” he muttered, loud enough for them all to hear. 

You were the first to crack a smile, then the rest followed suit with laughs and congratulations. Hearing the uproar, Garcia and JJ peeked out of their rooms, joining in and demanding more details about this new but not entirely unexpected development. 

Amidst the chaos, Spencer laces his hands in yours and gives it a squeeze. For the first time in a long time, you feel unequivocally, unmistakably happy. 

[wonda-cat]

You mentioned rewriting that one analysis post on Tommy’s revival stream and I’d really look forward to it! I never got to read the full og post and that’s the only place I saw these takes. Especially the one about the afterlife being too depressing. It’s not even just about Tommy, the implication that even if every character is safe and happy by the end, this is their inevitable fate is messed up. It’s not “a neat subversion” it’s just depressing and doesn’t add anything.

Hey, anon!

I sorta decided to not rewrite it? I feel a bit differently about the essay in the end, although I still believe in most of my points. I’m also just not nearly as passionate about it as I was when I wrote it (I finished it in a single sitting, which was... interesting.) However, yes, the afterlife stuff still bothers me just the same, as well as the odd changes to Wilbur’s characterization... post mortem.

But—just for you, anon—here’s the entire meta-analysis essay anyway, with some minor edits to the stuff I don’t agree with anymore!

My Many Narrative Issues with Tommyinnit’s Revival Stream

I want to preface this by saying that I dearly love the Dream SMP and understand it isn’t exactly comparable to other mediums like TV and film. With this being the case, most criticism against it is generally in bad faith or strange in foundation. Complaining about streamers for bad acting is the best example that comes to mind. 

These aren’t professional actors. Most have never acted in this sort of setting, or even at all. Quite a few have admitted to never roleplaying before. Which is why it’s warranted to praise Tommy, Dream, Wilbur, Ranboo, and others when they deliver stellar performances. The same applies to criticism of music choice, dialogue delivery, focus, tone, etc. 

However, one such category I cannot overlook is in regards to its writing. The writing of a story is its entire foundation. It encompasses many things—conflict choice, character development, themes, and morals. The author creates the blueprints for the architect, who then expresses the story with light, sound, color, pacing, and music. It is in its execution that we see if this connection is made or broken. 

The reason I find poor writing mostly inexcusable is because it is one of the most available skills to practice and perfect. I don’t mean to say that it’s easy, I mean to say it is something anyone can attempt to cultivate. Whether they do it well or not depends on their methods and experience. If anyone can self-publish a novel and be criticized online for its quality—and even compared to the works of Mark Twain—then I find critiquing the writing of the Dream SMP to be perfectly reasonable. 

However, since the Dream SMP script is a set of loose bullet points, tearing apart dialogue and scene continuity—which is nearly all improv—is rather useless. It doesn’t exactly have a clear focus as the plot plays out. The characters talk in circles until they hit the story beat required, and then they move onto the next. Thus, when criticizing it, one should generally critique grand events and narrative-specific shifts, more so than small-scale character interactions. 

Which brings me to my main point: The broad narrative choices taken in Tommyinnit’s most recent livestream, ‘Am I dead?’ may lead to disastrous writing pitfalls in the future. 

I’ll be outlining each of my issues below, in hopes of creating a better understanding as to why I feel this way. 

This might become quite lengthy, so please bear with me for a bit.

Tommy’s relationship to Wilbur has flipped. This change is jarring and seems out of character.

Tommy and Wilbur’s friendship is rather complicated. While Wilbur does care for Tommy immensely, especially during the L’Manburg Revolution and the Election Arc, his mental spiral during exile put a massive strain on their relationship as a whole. Wilbur brushed off Tommy’s feelings and wants, while clinging to him and pushing everyone else away. He was simultaneously distant and suffocating. 

Tommy, on the other hand, has an unclear view of his mentor. Since the beginning, and even long after Wilbur’s death, Tommy held him in especially high regard. He saw him as a brother-figure and a wise leader. He followed what he said and did everything he could to impress him. Yet, Wilbur still hurt him while the two were together in exile. 

When speaking of him, Tommy tends to flip infrequently between remembering Wilbur the way he was before his mental decline and thinking of him as a monster. Both of these images conflict with each other, but they weren’t nearly as extreme as what Tommy described Wilbur as when he was revived from death. The fear Tommy displays to Wilbur is beyond intense—it feels as if the audience may have missed a month’s worth of character development. 

This can make sense, especially since it was stated that he’d spent what felt like two months in the void. However, this shift is still deeply at odds with Tommy’s previous impressions of Wilbur, which is both disheartening and confusing. The fact that Tommy would agree to stay with Dream—his abuser and murderer—over his past mentor is simply head-reeling. It paints a very different picture of Wilbur’s character, somewhat conforming to the fandom’s ableist impression of him—the idea that Wilbur is insane and irredeemable, and always will be. 

It also ignores Dream being the driving factor in Wilbur’s downfall, as well as the double-bind deal with Dream which required him to push the button, no matter the outcome. Others have pointed out that Tommy may be lying to get Dream to bring Wilbur back, and there’s compelling evidence for that. For one, Tommy and Wilbur’s conversation seemed uncomfortable, but it was certainly nothing like Tommy implied. (Unless this fear comes from something Wilbur said off-screen.) 

Tommy also begged Dream to not bring him back multiple times over, which he should know would make Dream even more tempted to, simply because he likes seeing Tommy in pain. Tommy is also a known unreliable narrator. He may be making Wilbur out to be worse than he is by accident (even still, I’d argue this is a bit of a stretch.) 

However, there are some issues with this theory. Tommy offered himself as payment to Dream if he chose to let Wilbur rest. This is a deal Tommy knows Dream is extremely unlikely to refuse. Tommy is what Dream has coveted all this time. If Tommy genuinely wanted Wilbur back, he would not offer this. This sort of compromise is Tommy’s greatest nightmare—something he would only do in response to his friends being threatened or his home being destroyed. 

To add, Tommy is not great at lying. Unless he was taught by Wilbur for those two months* in the afterlife, there’s no chance Tommy would be this good at it. Thirdly, Tommy is terrible under pressure. He uses humor to cope. When he can’t, he cries and shouts and spills his heart out. While cornered, Tommy will tell the truth about anything, especially if Dream casually debates killing him again, just for fun. 

For now, it’s too early to tell how the relationship shift will play out. In the grand scheme of things, this issue is rather minor.

Season three’s writing is needlessly bleak. The portrayal of the afterlife is a nightmare. There is no rest, not even in death.

I adore the Dream SMP storyline in its entirety. I believe the first season is fantastic, and while the second season has some narrative clarity issues, I enjoyed it just as much. Although, I would argue season one had a more concrete understanding of its Hope-Conflict balance. 

To briefly explain, the Hope in stories are its ‘highs’ and good moments. These appear when a character the audience is rooting for is narratively rewarded. They happen during character building in the text—it’s the downtime and peace that allows for connection and relatability. It’s a moment for the viewer to breathe easy. 

The other half is Conflict, an obstacle in the story that gets in the way of the main characters’ goals, beliefs, and motives. These are the ‘lows.’ They give the narrative focus and weight. They make the highs feel even higher. They establish consequences and force the characters in the story to change in order to adapt and overcome them. 

I bring up the Hope-Conflict balance because a traditional hero’s journey would have an appropriate amount of both. Their highs and lows are generally equalized, as the name suggests. However, this balance has been awkwardly skewed in the latter half of season two and in the current plot of season three. To clarify, it is perfectly reasonable, and even common, for some stories to tip the scale more to one side. 

But a common mistake for amateur writers is to create their stories as either hopelessly dark to cause the audience continuous distress for the sake of distress, or to keep everything entirely conflict-free for most of the plot. What do these both have in common? They each make the story boring and predictable. 

Season three has taken this concept and thrown a monstrously heavy weight onto the Conflict side and flipped the scale so hard it has crashed through the ceiling. The viewers are hardly given time to find any joy in Tommy’s character, as he’s thrown into yet another abusive situation, just barely after his first narrative reward. The world is painted as relentlessly violent and traumatic. 

Every person Tommy meets is morally grey, unhinged, or out to hurt him. Everything most of the characters love is taken from them by those in positions of power. Ranboo cannot even grieve properly because it scars his face. Puffy, Sam, Ranboo, and Tubbo all blame themselves for what happened to Tommy. 

The audience watches lore stream after lore stream with the same depressing tone (with the exception of Tubbo’s, but I assume that’s unintentional.) Tommy is revived after being brutally beaten to death by his abuser, surrounded by all of his greatest fears. The afterlife is revealed to be akin to inescapable torture. It’s a colorless void that wraps the individual like fabric. 

Time moves thirty times slower within. There’s nothing—nothing but the voices of others who’ve passed on before him. Dying in a world already devoid of happiness takes the characters to a place worse than hell. When a narrative delivers unfair suffering to the entire cast without a moment of joy to speak of, the story will feel simultaneously overwhelming and pointless. 

Why watch characters suffer when there’s no light at the end of the tunnel? What happiness could they strive for when we know they’ll never get to keep it? How can I be satisfied with a good ending, if I know that an afterlife too terrible to name is what awaits them, truly, at the end of their story? Death isn’t even a white void that offers rest—it is eternal torment. 

Obviously, it isn’t a good message to send by making the afterlife seem like a quiet, perfect place or an escape from pain. But making it an unspeakable anguish which awaits, assumedly, every character who will die in the future? I deeply hope Tommy was only being an extremely unreliable narrator. 

More likely, I hope the place Tommy was taken to was a Limbo of sorts, not an end-all-be-all destination for everyone.

The degree of Tommy’s narrative punishment continues to escalate, to an almost absurd degree.

Tommy is one of the most tragic characters to exist in the storyline. He was sent into war at a young age and experienced two traumatic events during it. He was exiled by the newly elected leader and witnessed his mentor Wilbur spiral and break down with paranoia. Tubbo is executed publicly in front of him. When expressing rightful anger at the person who murdered him, he’s beaten nearly to death and never receives an apology. 

Schlatt dies right in front of Tommy, after his initial refusal to hurt the ex-president. His brother-figure and mentor is killed in assisted suicide on the same day his nation is blown up. His best friend exiles him from his home for the second time. He routinely self-sacrifices to protect his country and those who live there. His most treasured possessions were taken from him and he was called selfish for trying to retrieve them (although his methods were self-destructive and volatile.) 

He was pushed to the brink of suicide after being relentlessly abused and isolated in his exile. He was horrified when he thought he was responsible for drowning Fundy. After making an objectively good decision to stand by his old friends and change for the better, his country was obliterated by the man he once idolized, his father-figure, and his abuser. 

He was left scattered and without purpose for many days. Then he fights against Dream and loses, while also reliving his trauma. He watches Tubbo almost die at the hands of someone he once thought was his friend. He doesn’t tell a single person about what happened to him in exile. The day he tries to sever his connection to Dream and heal, he’s trapped with him for a week, surrounded by everything that terrifies him. 

He threatens to kill himself, speaking about his own life as if it were an object—something to hold over Dream’s head. He blames himself for everything bad that’s ever happened to L’Manburg and his friends—internalizing a mentality as a scapegoat for everyone around him. He is forced into the role of ‘hero’ despite the title being unfair and distressing to him.

As if that weren’t enough, he’s then beaten to death by his abuser and spends what feels like two months in an afterlife that is worse than hell. When he returns, his senses are excessively heightened. Dream can cause him excruciating pain, just by pinching him. He can send Tommy into an instant panic attack, just by raising his voice. 

The punishment Tommy’s character receives is a thousand times worse than everyone he has ever met, or ever will meet. And it shows no signs of stopping, as Dream now has control over Tommy’s very mortality. Tommy now fears the slightest damage and feels as if he’s losing his best friend all over again. He is also forced into a position where he has to kill Dream out of necessity, to protect everyone he cares about.

Characters need fitting punishments in relation to their actions. Not always, but in order to be satisfying? Yes, they do. It is preferred that a main character deal with unfair situations and difficult conflicts, but this is borderline torture p*rn. Putting Tommy in these distressing and abusive situations on repeat and punishing him for doing objectively moral or healthy things is exhausting to watch. 

To quickly add, I find the general insinuation of Tommy going to hell distasteful, especially considering the contents of his storyline. I know this may be hard to believe, but Tommy is one of the most moral characters in the plot, besides Puffy and Ghostbur. He’s also the only character, followed by Ranboo, to recognize that they can be wrong and make mistakes. He changed himself in order to heal and be a better person. He was in the process of paying people back for the things he’d stolen. 

He’s learned to be hard-working and less violent through the guidance of Sam. He has apologized to everyone he’s ever hurt (with the exception of Jack Manifold, because that man is allergic to communication.) He puts himself in harm's way to protect others. He doesn’t set out to purposely hurt anyone. He goes out of his way to make connections with people and maintain them, even if others don’t reciprocate. 

He’s hopelessly optimistic, despite his outwardly bitter façade. He loved so much and put meaning into the smallest things. The thought that a person like him—a suicide and abuse survivor—would go to hell after being beaten to death by the man who took everything from him; it makes me sick to my stomach. 

The only thing more morbid than Tommy’s afterlife being different than everyone else’s, is the concept that everyone will end up in this same eternal torture, no matter what they do. Take your pick: Tommy is sentenced to anguish until the end of time for no reason, or everyone will receive the same disturbing ending, regardless of their actions.

The narrative weight of Ranboo’s character is potentially out the window.

For the past few months, I’ve watched all of Ranboo’s lore streams faithfully, curious to see what role he would play in the future. His ‘hallucinations’ of Dream seemed to be sowing the seeds for a plot that has Ranboo taking the fall for every single insidious thing Dream has done. It would also be a tragic parallel to Tommy’s trial. 

Ranboo being convinced he was the one who blew up the community house, when Dream himself admitted to doing it, was one of the bigger indicators for me. This is just one of many other unexplained occurrences. Dream seemed to be making an effort to trigger and control Ranboo, especially after Sapnap’s prison visit. It appeared, from the way he went about this, that Dream had some grand use for Ranboo as part of his plan to be freed from Pandora’s Vault. 

However, after Tommy’s stream, the way Dream explains himself makes it seem like there was no plan besides seeing if the book worked on people. And if he didn’t after all, then what was Ranboo for? Was Ranboo unimportant? Was Ranboo just some weirdo who happened to phase out when seeing smiley faces and imagined conversations that may or may not have happened? 

I bring this up more as a worry, and much less so as an active problem in the narrative. They haven’t actually thrown Ranboo to the way-side or written themselves into a corner yet. In future streams, this could very easily be explained away or developed as more information is revealed. 

Only time will tell.

The potential for Wilbur’s future development and importance to the plot is unfeasible.

I feel as if I am the only person on earth who doesn’t want Wilbur Soot or Schlatt revived. There are many reasons for this, but one of them is not a dislike for these characters. I especially adore Wilbur, as he’s one of my all-time favorites. I don’t want either of them resurrected because their stories have already been told. They each had a fitting conclusion that ended their involvement perfectly. 

Bringing Wilbur back would especially cheapen the impact of the War of the 16th. It’s the end of a man who was brought to the absolute edge and out of desperation, shame, and self-hatred, he destroyed himself alongside his creation. Bringing him back would leave the climax of the previous story hollow. My biggest issue, however, is that a lack of story importance would likely follow his return. 

The only real impact I’d like to see is through a healing arc with Tommy, an apology to Fundy, or a confrontation with Phil/Niki. But that’s really all the potential I can realistically see. While I don’t doubt Wilbur as an agent of chaos, able to create plot out of thin air; what is he going to do now? His country is gone, his friends and family are scattered about, and his mission from the 16th is already accomplished. 

What is a well-educated, charismatic politician supposed to do in a world already broken and without nations? Read poetry to himself and cry evilly? However, this is working off the assumption that Wilbur would be returning as his old self. 

If Wilbur is resurrected as a ‘villain’ of sorts, then what? He’s not good at fighting in the slightest. He would have no materials. There are no real allies he can make, other than the arctic group. On top of that, there are already more than enough villains to last a lifetime. 

We don’t need any more, I promise. Quackity seems to already be shaping up as another antagonist, alongside Sam’s slip into darker and darker shades of moral ambiguity. We also have Philza and Techno, which are already overkill. But then we have Dream who, despite being in a prison, has the ability of selective revival. This is mercilessly overpowered, especially if he makes many allies. The dude could just bring his dead friends back so they can keep fighting forever. 

Then there’s Jack Manifold and the Crimson followers; Antfrost, Bad, and Punz. That’s not even including characters who are refusing to get involved. How are Tommy, Tubbo, and Puffy expected to do literally anything to fight back?

Dream’s experiment on Tommy implies he had no backup plan to begin with. This makes his character seem both short-sighted and foolish.

When Tommy woke up after being brought back to life, Dream sounded surprised that the revival worked at all. This instantly shatters the perception that Dream was highly intelligent and thought ahead. With just a few lines of dialogue, it’s implied that Dream killed Tommy, unsure of if the resurrection would even be possible on humans. 

Which, to risk something that important, seems unbelievably stupid. Dream needs Tommy, from his perspective. Tommy is his ‘toy,’ the one who makes everything fun. If he lost him and couldn’t get him back, what then? Oh well, everything Dream was doing was all for nothing, I guess. 

Why not attempt this experiment on literally anyone else first? Like Sapnap or Bad or, hell, even Ranboo. I suppose it could be that, as soon as Dream got the book, he experimented with it after the 16th. This appears to be insinuated with Friend and Hendry’s revival, although this is uncertain. But even then, he was still unsure of the book’s effect on a human being.

Also, this means, hypothetically, Dream’s entire plan of escape hinged on the experiment working, to begin with, and also on bringing back Wilbur if it somehow did. I find this even more ridiculous. Why Wilbur? That man couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag, let alone get through the traps in Pandora’s Vault. Even if he is intelligent after years* in the afterlife, that’s also a strange assumption. 

How do people learn things in the void? Where do they even get this knowledge? I’d honestly argue Techno is a far more competent choice than Wilbur. And even if Dream did bring him back and tell him he owed him his life, what’s to stop Wilbur from just killing him permanently? Or killing himself, continuously? 

No way would Wilbur want to be controlled by anyone, ever. The dude would sooner fuck off into the mountains and become a nomad than help a neon green bodysuit cosplay as Light Yagami.

Dream’s discussion about Sam implies that he wasn't playing any part in Dream’s plan, making Sam appear entirely incompetent and neglectful of Tommy.

Dream talked about Sam in a way that seems detached and unaffiliated. He also mentioned him being broken up about Tommy’s fate and not being aware he’s still alive. Dream not being partnered with, or not using Sam in his plan leaves many plot holes. I’ll go through each one. The initial incident was an explosion, coming from the roof of Pandora’s Vault. This did not affect the Redstone mechanism for the doors or dispensers. 

Meaning, Sam could’ve had Tommy leave the way that was expected for visitors after he investigated and found no issues. This likely couldn’t have been done in less than a day, but it would be better than an entire week. If Tommy was required to stay for longer, due to protocol, he could’ve gotten Tommy out and then placed him in one of the minor cells for the remainder of the time. 

Also, no one else lost a canon life for leaving via the splash potion of harming and returning outside the maximum-security cell; why would Tommy? To add, Sam being uninvolved means that the explosion could have only been caused by Ranboo or Foolish. That, or it was placed long before and timed for the moment Tommy entered the main cell. (I’m going to ignore how ludicrous it is that someone would know the exact time Tommy would’ve entered the room with Dream.) 

If Ranboo was the person behind the detonation, this implies he was necessary for Dream to kill Tommy to test the book. But that makes it even stranger. If this was Dream’s goal all along, why not kill Tommy the instant he was trapped with him? It makes no sense for him to wait so long. 

Sam is also directly at fault for not letting Tommy out, even after the week was up. There was no reason not to. He already knew there were no issues with the prison at that point. Although, to be fair to Sam, his character may have been paranoid and checking everything more than necessary, just in case. But this still isn’t a good excuse for him ignoring protocol in this one instance, and yet, not in any of the others. 

All of these plot holes or inconsistencies would be removed if it was revealed that Dream was blackmailing Sam in some way, or Sam had been working with him since the get-go. That Sam was the person who set off the explosion in the first place to trap Tommy inside. It would also explain Sam’s refusal to let Tommy out and by keeping him in there for longer than necessary. 

This can also coexist with Sam’s attachment and care for Tommy. He probably wasn’t told about Dream’s plan to test the book and genuinely believed Dream wouldn’t hurt him. On top of that, Dream is known to be a pathological liar, so his statements about Ranboo and Sam could be entire fabrications. 

Who knows?

The Book of Revival invalidates death entirely. The narrative now lacks both tension and consequence.

Another way the Dream SMP differs from other storytelling media is in the way it goes about its character deaths. In a TV show, for example, there will be characters who die just because, or when it’s important to the plot. However, it seems as if the Dream SMP is hesitant to commit to killing its characters. And there are many reasons for that. 

The most important one being, killing someone’s character excludes them from the story and some of their livelihoods depend on them regularly streaming on the server. There is also the issue of the cast becoming extremely sparse if characters keep dying. Typically, in stories, when you kill a character, you should introduce another. 

This keeps the cast from dwindling as the storyline goes on. This means the writers would have to find new streamers to join, who will develop their own characters and relationships with the plot’s continued momentum. This can be stressful and daunting to those who may be newly added in the future. 

Keeping this in mind, the Book of Revival is annoying from a writer’s perspective. When death is no longer an issue for a story hinged on its characters’ mortality, then what do you have as a consequence anymore? We’ve explored every kind under the sun; from abuse, to betrayal, to loss, to destruction. 

In stories, traditionally, death is a finality. It’s a conclusion. Whether it’s good or not depends on the character’s actions, its build-up, and the event’s execution. Without this lingering sense of danger, tension evaporates from the story. 

Why should I care if Tommy loses in a fight to someone, if he’ll just come back a day later? Why should I care about what happened to Wilbur, if he just returns as if nothing happened? The answer is simple: I won’t. I will no longer care if Tubbo or Ranboo or Sam die in the story, because the idea of revival even being a possible outcome leaves me unenthused and uncaring. 

The Dream SMP likes to flirt with death. It teases the demise of its main characters many, many times. More so Tommy’s than anyone else’s. Wilbur’s failed resurrection, which had unforeseen and unfortunate outcomes, is now strange in comparison to Tommy’s, which happened without a hitch. 

To be fair, we actually don’t see how many attempts it took. But here’s the problem; Dream could do it without the book being physically present. He’s trapped in a prison with nothing on him, meaning he doesn’t need any materials either. It’s also implied he could do this as many times as he feels, for anyone he wants. This would be exceedingly overpowered, if not for one thing—Dream himself is mortal (at least, I fucking hope he’s mortal.) 

If someone kills him one last time, that knowledge is gone forever. And I’m glad they’ve established at least some way for Tommy to win. Because at this point, I was losing faith. 

There is also the bare minimum establishment that Dream can refuse to bring back those he doesn’t care for. He can also use it as a shield, holding this power over other people. If Dream is gone, death is permanent. But isn’t that how death is supposed to be, anyway? 

What a bleak premise—the afterlife is pure eternal torture while life is cheapened by a lack of consequences.

Conclusion

All this to say, I am cautiously optimistic for the future. I hope dearly that every single one of these can be disproven or developed in the coming livestreams. Obviously, there’s not enough information to really determine what the end result will be, or how everything will fall into place. 

Every time I have theorized about the story, it has done something completely different and pleasantly surprised me. I want this trend to continue. 

Surprise me again—I’ll be here to see where it goes.

[fictionalrambles]

Shadowhunters Fandom Story - Part Fifteen

Submitted by jwrites_

Five Favourite Fics:

1. What's It Gonna Be by @lemonoclefox

Why I love this fic: I'm a sucker for Pride & Prejudice. San was able to take that dynamic and put it all in a modern day telling of it. I can't count how many times I've read this. Sometimes I read it all the way through, other times I go and find my favorite parts just to get that rush of emotions it never fails to give. The enemies to lovers is done perfectly, the dialogue is great and flows seamlessly, the way she tied in the storyline between Simon, Isabelle, Valentine, and Alec together was genius. I truly love every word of this story.

Favorite scene: Awkward - love - confession - in -  the -  rain

Favorite quote(s):

(Yes. Love confessions are great but have you ever overheard someone say something rude about you and then have the opportunity later that same night to be able to casually call that person out for their comment?)

"Her friend is..." He trails off, as though searching for the word, and Magnus can imagine him gesturing in the meantime. "Interesting," Jace eventually settles on, pointedly.

"Who, that Bane guy?" Alec says, and as he does, Magnus is hit with a wave of intrigued surprise. Does Alec like men? Interesting. The assumption could be wrong, of course, but Jace's tone implies that that's why he's mentioning it. "He's a bit over the top, don't you think?"

He sounds almost disdainful as he says it, as though Jace's mere suggestion is laughable, and Magnus's intrigue immediately shifts to offended annoyance. He straightens a little where he stands, reluctantly affected by it.

--

"I mean, love songs are great," Magnus admits lightly. "But stringing a few pretty words together does seem a bit unoriginal when everyone does it."

Simon shoves him lightly in offense, and Magnus can't help but laugh.

"Then what do you suggest?" Magnus is taken completely by surprise when he realizes that it's Alec who's speaking, and he turns to him. The guy's expression is neutral, but seems genuinely curious.

"Oh, I don't know," Magnus says, swirling his drink around in his glass. He shrugs. "I suppose I'm more a fan of showing and not telling. I'd much prefer someone showing interest in what I like and who I am, than comparing my eyes to the night sky, and whatnot." He gestures airily, then hesitates. He suddenly can't seem to stop himself, the memory of the Lightwoods' overheard conversation bubbling to the surface. "I think most people can appreciate that. Even if some of us are a bit over the top."

--Okay...I'm gonna go ahead and throw in a love confession~

"Look, I don't expect anything from you," he says, as though the words are hard to say. "You've made your feelings pretty clear, and I respect that. But I heard you talked to my mom, and with the stuff you said to her... I guess it just kind of made me a bit hopeful, or something. A bit." He clears his throat, while Magnus just listens. He turns to watch Alec's profile as the young man struggles to find the words, eyes on the view in front of him. "Either way, I'll admit that how I feel hasn't really changed. Maybe it should have, but..."

Alec shakes his head, and Magnus feels his throat go dry. He wants to interrupt Alec, wants to say and show everything that's bursting out of his chest, but he waits. Alec takes a deep breath then, turns to him. He looks determined.

"If you want me to," he says steadily, "I'll go. I'll leave you alone, I promise. You won't hear from me again." He pauses, licks his lips. "But if you don't want me to, if something has changed since last time, somehow... I'd really like to know. Because that would be pretty great."

2. 42 North 71 West by @lecrit​

Why I love this fic: I was blessed with the opportunity to witness Lu working on this fic from its conception to its end. I was there and still I am blown away at the way she was able to work the time jumps. I remember thinking with every chapter I read, 'Wow. The way she is telling this story is amazing. She is amazing.' Lu has a way of presenting so much honesty in her characters. She writes them in a way that feels so real, that you can't help but understand their fears and hesitations even though it hurts. The story is a back and forth told through scenes set in the past and present. You get to see what they were and where they are. The story is beautifully heartbreaking. And she was able to make me enjoy a story that dealt with politics? What? Sorcery, I tell you. -- also, the bench.

Favorite scene: This was almost impossible to choose and I took way too long trying to pinpoint just one. But I'm going to go with one that I hold very dear. When Magnus goes to visit Alec on his birthday and he finds Alec playing the song he only plays when he's sad. That's all I'm going to say because I don't want to spoil~

Favorite quote(s):

“Magnus,” Alec breathes out.

The name feels almost foreign, as if he hadn’t uttered it in too long and now his mind is troubling to catch up with his mouth. Still, it manages to make Alec’s heart stutter.

--

“We should’ve stayed on that bench in Boston,” he murmurs.

--

The good thing is, he knows where to go to find his way back. It is inked on his body, engraved into his soul, sealed into his heart.

3. Lead The Way by Clockworkswan

Why I love this fic: Because it takes the wonderful adventure of Doctor Who and packs it in with Malec. This is the ultimate fun and feel good but you will also cry at one point fic. I always go back to it if I want a wonderfully written Doctor Magnus and his adorable companion Alec. Seriously, even if you're not into Doctor Who, give this fic a shot. It's written in a way that you will get so caught up in the adventure that you won't even realize it's based on something else. And if you're a Doctor Who fan, you're in luck with all the little Easter Eggs Heather left throughout.

Favorite scene: I really don't want to spoil anything. The planet of Ablorix. This will mean nothing if you don't read the fic (so you should ;])

Favorite quote(s):

Magnus extends a hand. It’s just like before, when they were in the hallway a couple of weeks ago. It’s just as inviting as it was the first time.

“How about it, pretty boy? Name a star. Any one will do. Or a date,” Magnus says. The double meaning is evident when he winks. He pauses then, and his expression shifts, growing solemn.

A clear shift in his demeanour happens. Magnus turns from playful to sincere in the blink of an eye. Although, there was also a serious tone to it. Magnus looks at him, and understanding eyes meet Alec’s hesitant ones. “Alexander, you seem like a man in need of a break, and I am very much a man in need of a friend. Adventures are always a quick way in figuring out what you want. What do you say?”

What does he say?

He says yes.

Of course Alec does.

--

Before Magnus can think of a good retort, he tries to ignore the clenching ache his stomach gives at the sight of a confident, smirking Alec Lightwood watching him so openly. He settles for pointing in a random direction. “I have to go and see a dog about a man. Meet back here in five?”

“Uh, isn’t the expression, ‘see a man about a dog’?”

“Not when the dog ran off with the man’s wife. A rather big scandal, it seems. The president wants me to try and step in. Smooth things over, so to speak.”

At that, Alec just stares blankly.

Magnus holds up a finger. “Yes, this is normal for me. No, you may not come along. Go.”

4. Love & Other Drugs prequel of Our Love Is A Harsh Chord in the Semi-charmed Kind Life series by @la-muerta​

Why I love this fic: I'm kind of cheating here by listing two fics but they're a package deal. Love & Other Drugs was a smutty one-shot that left me wanting

more...

backstory. Let me tell you the pining and 'unrequited' love between those two demanded a story to be written. Which is why when la_muerta ran a poll on whether or not she should start it or another series first, I campaigned for this one like it was my job (I lost but I still got the series eventually so did I really lose?) The writing in this and with all of la_muerta's fics will hook you. The sadness over the back and forth between them is done so well. It's angst that will grip you and hold onto you until you eventually finish. Just go on the twitter hashtag of #OLIAHCfic and see my screaming.

Favorite scene: Probably the LSD scene.

Favorite quote(s):

Alec was still here, in bed with him.

How many times had Magnus wished that he could wake up with Alec in his arms? He didn't dare to move, wanting the dream to last a little longer, but Alec was already stirring.

--

he'll wonder if life would be a little easier if he wasn't hopelessly in love with Magnus, but it is a fact of who he is now: Alec Lightwood is 6'3, has dark hair, is gay, and is in love with Magnus Bane.

--

They are lying next to each other now, turned on their sides and face to face. The world is no longer warped and weird, but glowing and perfect. Magnus is tracing a path of lightning down Alec's body with his fingertips, and in a moment of clarity Alec understands that in Magnus' eyes he is as beautiful as he thinks Magnus is (it is the first thing Alec forgets when he wakes up sober later).

--

Words aren't enough to express how he feels, but they've always understood each other better when clumsy words don't get in the way.

5. The Lonely Hearts Hotline by @unrestrainedlyexcessive​

Why I love this fic: It's funny, it's endearing, it's heart wrenching, it's sexy, etc. The way Alec is written in this fic is one of my favorite characterizations. The way his situation can resonate with so many young adults today. That feeling when you're an adult and you feel like you should know what to do with your life and who you should be but the truth is, you're still just as lost as always. Being an adult sucks tbh and even when you're an adult, sometimes life doesn't quite feel like it. Alec's character and growth in this fic is beautiful. (I also really loved Jace in this fic)

Favorite scene: A tough choice. Probably the office party and follow up scene in Magnus' office.

Favorite quote(s):

The problem with being a new grad, in general, is that the world and job force demands you have experience, but you have to live a certain number of productive years on the planet to gain that experience.

Early adulthood is no man's land. You don’t have the experience to matter and no one wants to pay you to gain it, hence how he ended up in the precarious situation he’s in: dodgy sex work by night, an even dodgier roommate, and desperately hoping an internship eventually turns into an actual paying job.

--

Magnus runs his tongue down the knobs of Alec's spine. "You're so beautiful," he says, pausing.

"I'm really not," Alec insists, eyes fluttering closed.

"Why are you so kind to everyone except yourself?"

"I'm a work in progress."

"Aren't we all?"

[orionsangel86]

SPN Speculation - SDCC chatter

Hey guys, a little birdy told me that Tumblr hasn’t been handling the SDCC news all that well? I have been asked to come back and share some thoughts I have so far only been floating around in GCs and very briefly on Twitter.

For those of you feeling negative about Season 15, that’s of course your prerogative, but I am honestly extremely happy with what tidbits of information we have received. 

This got long so under a cut is quotes from SDCC and my own reactions and speculation including an ending concept I thought of that I am quite happy with.

First of all, Andrew Dabb’s joke about only 30% of the audience liking the ending was just that, a JOKE. They were digging at Game of Thrones. Bobo has already confirmed on Twitter previously that SPN ending will be NOTHING like Game of Thrones. 

https://twitter.com/robertberens/status/1127821427149721600

https://twitter.com/robertberens/status/1127976311303970816

This was back during the final few eps of GoT when Bobo got really chatty with fans online about the way GoT told it’s stories. He confirmed that SPN is completely different, believes in heroism, and is focused on its characters rather than the world at large.

What Bobo essentially was saying was that SPN isn’t going for a dark gloomy ending more focused on the universe than each characters individual end journeys. SPN will have a satisfying end for its audience compared to the dark and gloomy hopeless ending GoT presented us with.

So any snark they had at SDCC comparing SPN to GoT was prob based on this and is totally not to be taken seriously.

What made me feel far more positive was Dabb and Bobo saying the following:

Dabb: “you want people to feel it was worth their time. Because this show is a big time investment. Three hundred and twenty seven hours [is a lot]. You don’t want to leave people feeling hollow, you don’t want to leave them feeling cynical. You don’t want to make them think we don’t take very seriously the amount of time and effort they put into this show and the amount of time and effort we put into this show. So that doesn’t mean the ending is always happy and everybody is high-giving. But it means the journey was worth something and came to a place that makes everyone feel it was worth taking that trip.”

Bobo said “at it’s core, making sure we end powerfully and meaningfully the stories of Jack, Cas, Sam and Dean, and honor them and their characters and their emotions and the audiences emotions for them.... that’s sort of our north star in breaking the show.”

Also Bobo: “We have some really interesting and fun ways to play around with that expectation [of whether Sam and Dean should live or die]. Not just in the final stretch but throughout the season. I think that question will be raised in a number of ways. And Sam and Dean will be struggling with that in a number of ways. I think we’re very conscious as writers that this is not the Game of Thrones type [of situation] – just shove everyone’s face in the mud kind of downer. It’s a balance of pain and uplift that we have to hit perfectly that feels fresh and doesn’t feel like something we’ve done before. And I think that we have some ideas that we’ve very excited about that will stick that landing for us.”

Whilst we have to remember that this is still just PR, it is good to hear from both Bobo and Dabb that ultimately they seem to understand what is important and how to end this show right. My interpretation from this is not that the show will end in death and misery, but in something hopeful and somewhat satisfying, even if it is different.

(My sources from this are from a GC where the text I think is copied from an article. If you know the article please send me the link)

Dabb also talked quite a bit about how the one thing that is set in stone and has been for at least a year already, is the very final scene of the show. They had this in mind before Season 14 was written. So everything else will be written around this final scene. (also means we need to pay closer attention in our S14 re-watches.)

Dabb and Bobo both think the ending will satisfy fans, or at least that fans will understand why the ending they chose makes sense. Dabb specifically said “What we are crafting is something that I hope will make sense as an emotional ending to these characters journey. I don’t think it’s something that’s going to make everybody happy, because that’s impossible. But I certainly hope that even the people who hoped it ended differently will understand why it ended that way.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHjhnG5w2gw

The one take away that REALLY interested me was this from Jensen:

“It took me a while to get there. When we were in the room and the idea came down the pipe and everybody kind of signed off on it, my reaction was more like “okay, okay”. I’d struggled with it for about a week or so and I realised I’m just too close to this character. To see anything with finality on it is just hard to digest. And I talked to a few people about it and got some clarity on it and I’ve tried to look at it from a different perspective and I now have come around to being “oh, this is a really good ending. This is satisfying.””

https://twitter.com/Bluestar861/status/1153080393106710528

So to sum up:

Dabb says that the ending they have gone with is one that makes sense emotionally in terms of character journey

Bobo says that the ending will honor the characters of Sam, Dean, Cas and Jack and WON’T be anything like GoT

Jensen says that he struggled with the ending at first, and had to have it explained to him to get clarity on why they are taking that route, after which, he understood and now thinks its a really good ending.

To top this, Jared spoke of the ending being the characters finding peace (whether alive or dead - but in a way that implied they would be alive)

Misha has confirmed he doesn’t know the ending, so he has simply been reiterating his old stance that Cas has to die and as much as we love him, we can disregard everything he says based on his own words from Jibcon “I make shit up.”

As a meta writer and someone who spends a lot of time picking apart the stories to find SENSE and MEANING in the CHARACTER JOURNEY’S and knowing that JENSEN ACKLES DIDN’T UNDERSTAND AT FIRST?! 

I AM VERY HAPPY ABOUT THIS NEWS.

Jensen not understanding imo means the ending will not be Sam and Dean dying together in a blaze of glory, it won’t be a separation in death either for any of the characters. My best guess? The brothers go their separate ways in the end. 

Hear me out. It fits okay. Let’s bring this back to the obvious question:

How do you end a show where death is not taken seriously?

Easy. You separate the characters in LIFE, bringing an end to their joint story. If SPN has always been a story about two brothers, saving people, hunting things, the family business (with the family growing over the past so many years), then the way you end that is not by killing them off, it’s by separating the core characters from the story itself, and from each other.

The reason I am speculating THIS ending is also because of one EXTREMELY EXCITING fact that also came from SDCC:

EILEEN IS RETURNING

https://twitter.com/Shoshannah7/status/1153077148883640321

Call me an optimist, but they aren’t going to bring back the one character who ticked all of Sam Winchester’s boxes for one episode as a ghost or a soul in heaven - they are gonna bring her back properly, and that can only mean one thing. SAILEEN. Sam getting a romantic endgame is PERFECT and it fits my theory. Eileen coming back opens up the potential for Sam to have a new hunting partner, or even better, a new MOL Legacy partner to reestablish the MOL as a society for learning and protecting the world from the Supernatural. A training center for hunters and supernatural scholars all over the world. TELL ME THIS ISN’T PERFECT FOR SAM I DARE YOU.

Obviously, the one caveat to this awesome opportunity for Sam, is no more hunting with Dean. Hence, end of Supernatural as we know it.

What does this mean for Dean? Well, If a certain angelic blue eyed beauty gets their true story potential - their emotionally satisfying character journey end - then that angelic blue eyed beauty will be hanging up their wings for good and slumming it with us mud monkeys permanently. 

A sacrifice? Yes, finality? Yes. Death? Hell no.

Further thoughts on this here:

https://twitter.com/Bluestar861/status/1153278119576592385

With a human Cas by his side, Dean can still do whatever he wants, travel the country, or take himself and his hot ex-angel “buddy” off to the beach, because the main focus of Dean’s character arc, his character journey over the course of so many seasons, has been to find peace with himself, as well as freeing himself from the burden of parenthood forced on him by his father and let Sam go.

Dean has never been comfortable being alone, and it wouldn’t make sense for him to end his journey alone either - at all - which is why Jensen’s dream ending that he keeps telling at cons about Dean swapping Baby for a motorbike also makes no bloody sense - but of course, as Jensen said, he didn’t really understand the ending presented at first did he? 

Jensen would struggle with the idea of Sam and Dean both choosing to separate in life, especially if that ending also had an ambiguous Destiel twist to it. Jensen has always made his views on the brothers relationship clear, he is a “together to the end” man, so it makes sense that he would need to have the toxic codependency and why it needs to break explained to him. 

I have no idea whether Destiel will be part of this so please don’t ask me, I happen to think at this point that it will be ambiguous and open to interpretation. But if the show ends with Dean and human Cas together mirrored against a happy Sam and Eileen I’ll be satisfied.

DISCLAIMER: This is a speculative fan theory thought up for fun. It is NOT serious show meta, it is literally inspired by PR from SDCC. I DO NOT HAVE A CRYSTAL BALL - IF I DID I WOULD BE BUYING LOTTERY TICKETS RIGHT NOW NOT TELLING YOU LOT HOW SPN IS GONNA END.

Of course, all my theories are inspired by in show character themes and emotional sub plots. I’m not pulling this shit out of thin air, I just... don’t want you all to start accusing me of leading you on or getting your hopes up if S15 starts and throws us a huge curve ball because I literally know nothing more than you lot and frankly the attacks on meta writers over the past few years have disgusted me and made me loose quite a bit of faith in the fandom collective brain cell - which I generally assume doesn’t exist in those that actually do attack meta writers.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Still, please try not to burn this hellsite to the ground based on SDCC PR. It’s supposed to be fun!

Peace.

[euchunja]

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄. // 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒. // 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓.

hi my loves !! oh my gosh this took me so long and it’s embarrassing but anywho ... i am jasmine, and here i am ! as i’m sure we all hate the dash right now so let me apologize for how hideous this whole thing looks !! but since i’m late i won’t waste time, so below the cut you’ll find some info on miss 𝐁𝐀𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐀 as well as plot ideas !  ( iforgottosaythisbutpleaselikethisifyoudliketoplot! )

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘.

child of dionysus, and in his fashion, is a lover of all things revolving around partying, playing pretend, and chaos !

could be confused for an aphrodite kid for her obsession over making love and beauty, but nope !! she’s actually a child of dionysus through and through once you really watch her, she’s got all the traits but ... for the worse ??

though honestly, it’s sometimes hard to remember she’s a half-god child, as most of her powers aren’t physical, and honestly could be claimed to either be a matter of coincidence or her being naturally gifted.

born in seoul, south korea, initially clueless to her ties to the greek god. she was raised christian, as well, and the idea never really crossed her mind !

her mom told her when she was really young, as she saw the girl’s powers developing into dangerous habits very early, and hoped clarity would stop that ! but unfortunately it didn’t, and ... well chunja is chunja haha !!

her powers started coming full force when she was around 10 ! her mom, who was the owner of a bar, suffered a drop in customers and was forced to close her business. hopeless and out of work, she had to resort to house hopping between family members until they finally settled into a one-room apartment much smaller than their old house.

but chunja was humiliated and wanted to keep up the appearance that they were well off, so always thought up elaborate lies to keep up the appearance that they were doing just fine - comparable to elite’s cayetana ! but given that this went on for years without anyonr noticing ... you could say she was naturally a pretty good liar actor, thanks to her father !

the big moment that happened because of this though was when she was caught shoplifting ! she wanted trendy clothes, and given her family’s predicament, it was the only way how. after getting caught, she made an elaborate lie and turned it around to accuse the store clerk who’d spotted her of falsely accusing her, and got away with it !

this is why she thinks her father noticed her and claimed her. however, that’s not the case ! though chunja often uses her skills for the worse, it was a time she cured someone of madness not long after that shoplifting incident that got the attention of dionysus !

 after getting claimed, she became much more sure of herself, despite her financial situation ! she seemed to understand herself better, and was more sure of her talents.

shortly after getting claimed, things seemed to look up for her, and her mother came back better, becoming the owner of a lounge much more upscale than the bar she had owned prior. she moved up to the middle class, and it was then at age 13 she became an international student, travelling all over the world with her mom on business trips.

but she felt incredibly drawn to greece, as she felt her ties were there. but it wouldn’t be until she was approaching college that she would get her chance to move there, when she started university !

before then, she spent two and a half years after high school studying abroad in france, desperately wanting a change of pace but not yet ready for the academic pressure of college.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐀.

highkey can’t say it nicer than this .... chunja is an insensitive manipulative asshole lmao !! 

listen i hate to say it ... but it’s true ! she’s got a bad temper, and if you get on her nerves, she becomes livid, and since chaos is what she loves the most, doesn’t feel upset when messing with others.

chunja’s definitely got a sharp tongue, and is incredibly blunt, always speaking her mind and not being afraid to do so. some appreciate her honesty, other’s hate it ... really, it depends !

she has inherited the ability to trigger madness in others, and ... yikes !! it’s sort of a known fact that all her boyfriends and girlfriends seemed to go off the rails after they broke up, and ... i can’t say that’s not a coincidence !

 unsurprisingly, she loooooves parties, and because of that, she doesn’t perform too well in school. she actually doesn’t even go to class as much as she should, but what you gonna do when there’s a rave the night before an exam you know ??

drug / alcohol tw !! alongside parties, she loves indulging in both alcohol and drugs, as she’s near addicted to the feeling of euphoria she gets ... a trait she got from being dionysus’ kid ! at first glance she might not seem like it, but she’s tried nearly everything in the book, as she doesn’t want to miss out on anything that might give her that perfect high. she loves drinking, especially wine, and the smell alone is intoxicating to her ! she can’t get drunks as easily as the average person, though, as she has a high tolerance. it frustrates her a lot of the time, as she wants to get drunk, but it’s good for keeping up appearances, and is impressive to down numerous shots at parties.

she always tries to reach out to her father, seeking his praise, but for some reason or another he never seems to reciprocate her affection. it really messes with her, and often has her questioning her own self worth, but does help in motivating her to work hard to impress him.

despite her ego at times, she’s actually pretty gloomy internally ! she feels things just  never seem to go right for her in the long run, and though she often has temporary happiness it rarely lasts. it may be chunja’s punishment for using the powers she’s been granted for the worse, but she’s not willing to really change anytime soon !

despite her bad traits, she really does have some redeeming ones ! for instance, she is incredibly loyal to those she cares for, ironic given her tendency to use others for her own gain. but she always stays true to her friends and family she’s on good terms with, and will cause literal hell to anyone who tries to go against them !

there’s probably more, but ... it’s so late and this needs to be posted lol !

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒.

here is just a connection idea dump because a proper plots page is coming super soon and i’m too tired to think properly honestly ?? 

dionysus sibling relationships, even sibling rivalry ?? partying buddies who seem to vibe with each other and always have fun ! other older / mid-20′s muses clinging to their youth, smoking / drinking buddies, ex - flings, with lingering feelings ?? or current flings struggling to not have feelings ! friends who both have that sense of chaos in them, a crush who she’s actually soft for ? what ?? is this a fever dream ??? someone who heard the rumors all her exes went mad and are now terrified, best friends who know each other better than anyone ! study buddy to make sure she isn’t kicked out of school, fwbs,  a duo who constantly butt heads, first girlfriend and first person she came out to, someone she’s met while travelling at one point or another, someone who knew her as a kid and potentially the only person who knew the truth about her financial situation, a younger muse who she unexpectedly looks out for, etc !

[written-rebellion]

Perfect Distractions

A/N: okaay I am slowly getting back to this two-post a week schedule and yes, I didn’t make it on Sunday. But yay, here it is only a day later, which is a marked improvement! LOL 

Since my A/Ns are where I primarily have time to talk to most of the fandom (well, anyone who reads these anyway ^_^” no obligation of course!) I’ve been bouncing around a new AU in my head that is a) certainly not as expansive as PD and has a definite ending, and b) certainly not as fluffy as PD either. I’ve been writing it on the side (which, admittedly is what’s cutting into my PD writing time) and I’ve boiled it down to two posting options:

I can either bring PD back to once a week (likely Thursday) and post the other on Sunday/some weekend day. OR, I can write on my own time, and then post it all in one go. I don’t really have a preference, though the second option will probably take longer (but might give me more time to make the story better/closer to how I want it??) Sooo I thought I’d throw the thought out there and see what people think? 

Let me know if you’d like, or don’t LOL Either way - with no natural segue - I hope you enjoy this chapter! 

Jenny finds Claire a dress, Claire's reminded of an old friend, and as always, the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think!

Part One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] | Part Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Three: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Four: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Five: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Six: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eight: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Nine: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Ten: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eleven: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twelve: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [ Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Thirteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Fourteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] Part Fifteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Sixteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Seventeen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Eighteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Nineteen: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Twenty: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twenty-One: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] | Part Twenty-Two: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] | Part Twenty-Three: [Chapter 1]

Part Twenty-Three: Timing | Chapter 2

“Ye havena met Willie, have ye?”

Claire pursed her lips, as she thumbed through the rack of dresses. They were on the third boutique that day and, while leisurely shopping her way through town sounded fun in theory, the ever-present time crunch made it all the more stressful.

“He wasn’t at the barbecue, was he?”

“Nay, he was abroad studying.”

Jenny shook her head, clattering hangars against each other as she flipped through a rack. “I promise ye, I taught the lad better.”

“It was an honest mistake, Jenny. An idiotic, horribly timed mistake,” she sighed, “but a mistake, nonetheless.”

“Lord only kens how that lad survived in the dormitories ‘afore he met ye.” The elder Fraser rolled her eyes. “It eases my mind a bit, knowin’ ye’re there with him.”

Claire absently ran her hand down the silk of a hanging gown, turning her head from Jenny in an attempt to hide her smile. While Jenny wasn’t generally complimentary, she leapt at any chance to take the piss out of her brother, and to Claire – whom never had a sister and found teasing Jamie to be one of her absolute favourite pastimes anyway – it was wholly welcome.

“Well, I try,” she said with a shrug.

“And just think, maybe soon we’ll have to buy ye another dress… but whiter.”

Cheeks thoroughly flushed, Claire’s head darted back to Jenny’s so fast, she could’ve sworn she heard her neck crack.

“Though, red does seem yer colour,” said Jenny, doubled over laughing.

“C’mon!” Claire tried – and failed – to appear nonchalant. She could feel the heat radiating from her face and was beginning to suspect there were one or two ulterior motives to Jenny agreeing to bring her shopping. She dove her nose back into the rack.

“It’s only been a year, we haven’t even—” She gave up trying to talk over Jenny’s laughs. And, while she did feel completely mortified, watching Jenny trying to catch her breath reminded Claire so much of Jamie.

Finally, Jenny straightened herself out and wiped a tear from her eye.

“Ach, I’m sorry, lass, ye just make teasin’ so easy, ye ken?” She was still chuckling and, despite herself, Claire smiled softly. “Ye remind of Jamie, and Ian for that matter.”

Both out of curiosity and a desperate need to change the subject, Claire followed up immediately.

“You know, I’ve never heard how you and Ian met.”

At that, Jenny smiled, and Claire missed Jamie exponentially. Those Frasers, with their lopsided grins and glinting eyes; the kind of reverence that would make anyone with a pulse stop and stare, secretly hoping that they were the cause. It made it near-breathtaking to actually know that you were.

“We all grew up together, ye ken? Our Das were old friends and Ian was around as long as I can remember.” She shook her head, her smile only widening as she called the memory forward. “I was 17, I think, when I marched right up to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and said, ‘Alright then, Ian Murray, when I turn 21-years-old, we’ll get married’.”

Claire could imagine that in perfect clarity: a young Jenny Fraser – the one she’d seen in countless pictures at Lallybroch – taking a gangly teenage Ian by the shoulders. Frasers with a clear goal in mind certainly didn’t play around. She was thinking not just of Jamie, but of what she knew about Brian Fraser too.

Apples from the same tree, the lot of them.

“And what did he say?”

“Och, I couldna tell ye. To be honest, my heart was pounding so loud in my ears, I could barely hear myself. Though, I do remember his face—all red and gaping, like yers was a minute ago.”

Claire’s smile faltered; so she hadn’t forgotten after all. Jenny seemed to notice and visibly softened, her hand reaching over to squeeze Claire’s shoulder.

“Dinna fash, lass. I doubt Jamie will be as forward as I was,” she said.

“Thank you, but really, it’s only been a year.”

“Aye, but in that year—“ She released Claire’s shoulder to count off her fingers. “—Ye’ve said I love ye, had sex—och, calm down, we all ken—moved in together, and went through a nearly life-threatening disaster with nary a scratch on ye.” She motioned at Claire’s leg. “Most couples are at a turtle’s pace compared to the two of ye.”

“We haven’t even talked about it,” Claire said, waving her hand dismissively.

Raising a family, yes. But somehow, Claire realized, the idea of marriage had never surfaced. Not that she wanted to make any solid claim at what Jamie felt (though she didn’t doubt her ability to), but the way they talked, planned, dreamed—it all seemed so… inevitable. Like it was already an integral part of the plan, a foregone conclusion that didn’t warrant actual discussion.

Flashes of a lighthouse in the darkness over a calm sea filled her mind, leaving her feeling like she’d just run into an old friend.

“Well, I daresay, if Jamie isna already thinking about it, this ought to help speed things up.”

In Claire’s silent reverie, Jenny had strolled over to poke around in another rack of dresses and was on her way back with a dress on hand. Claire’s eyes widened, and Jenny was already starting to chuckle to herself.

“I did say red was yer colour.”

Read Chapter 3

[im-cre8tive-blog]

Interviews

DVC Student: Jojo

What does design mean to you?

Design is everything to me.

What do you believe in as a designer?

I believe in design that makes sense and is as communitive as a language.

What are your goals?

I want to do everything I possibly can while I’m on this earth. My current short-term goals are moving to NYC after graduation and hoping for the best in my post-grad career. I also will be (hopefully) attending NYU for my MA in Visual Arts Administration. I eventually want to design with fashion brands and working in ad agencies to prevent racially tone-deaf campaigns and create REAL diversity and inclusion in the design world.

What is your mission as a designer?

Refer to question 3 lolll

How will you benefit most in this program?

Not sure I benefited from this program design wise. It has definitely helped me realize that I have an obligation to design with intent and push buttons people really don’t like being pushed. This program has made me realize that liberal designers are to be side eyed at all times.

What do you wish you had known before going into the DVC program?

Nothing worth mentioning.

Are there resources you feel are important to be exposed to as a design student? If so, what are they?

Many resources like Microagressions 101, Intro to How to Be a Designer and Take Criticisms. But in all seriousness, these students need to take diversity classes.

How do you think your professors can help you become a stronger designer in the program?

Lisa Moline and Adream Blair were the only instructors that had a bit of value to me. They were understanding, helped me outside of design classes and encouraged me to be the best I could be.

What are your hopes, dreams, and fears when it comes to being a DVC student at UWM?

N/A

Is there anything you need, want, or wish to be successful in the design program?

N/A

What do you stand for?

Racial and Gender equality for black and brown men, women, and the LGBTQIA.

Why does it matter?

Because it’s important.

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

DVC Student: Farouk

Design to me is a form of expression that’s contained and more on the professional side

I believe as a designer I should be able to create and manipulate simple ideas and make them better than they already were

my goals are to be successful in life and to change peoples lives w whatever I create with my art.

my mission as a designer (I don’t really know, I haven’t really thought about it)

I will benefit most in this program because I will be learning things I don’t know about and how to better shape myself as a designer

I wish I had known about the flexibility of the classes I can take because I just have a certain amount of classes in my head that I am meant to take

resources include the adobe creative cloud (I don’t really understand this question)

my professors can be better listeners and really understand where I am coming from as an artist because I am not too familiar with what the norms of being a designer might be

a fear would be being too expressive and being overwhelmed with my ideas as a designer because I like to think and I like to be as expressive as I can be and I feel like designers sometimes can be restrictive and too simple

my hopes are to be able to be as expressive as I want to be while also being a designer so I can do me and also do design

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

DVC Graduate: Danielle Dupey

How has the program helped you out post graduation?

Going through any branding process from beginning to end, and how each part is equally important and shouldn’t be overlooked. Thinking outside the box is a huge aspect; you don’t have to be new, you just have to be different. Obviously, I wouldn’t be nearly as versed in the Adobe Suite if it weren’t for my fantastic teachers/mentors. Between learning Photoshop and Javascript, the DVC program has helped me grow my passion for design tremendously.

What's the biggest you have learned in dvc?

Design can be simple, but meaningful. How it makes people feel is one of the more important facets of design. Design impacts everyday life more than we know, and effects almost everyone.

How is the professional world different from the classroom?

Sometimes I found myself feeling crushed for time with projects in class, but that was nothing compared to a professional environment. In my experience, clients/employers want things done yesterday, everyday. There are obviously many different scenarios, but I’ve come to learn that starting with fewer design variations then choosing one direction and perfecting it has been the most consistent and successful design pathway. Also, thick skin is a must. Learn to accept and understand constructive criticism in school, because in a professional environment people will tear apart your designs without the slightest thought of the person making them. Try not to take it personally, but always have reasons to back up your case. Sometimes a little convincing is all it takes. One last thing - make connections and network. This is my biggest regret about college - the more people you know the more resources and ties you have to fantastic opportunities. You might not think someone working at a logistics company would be a good connection, but maybe they just met up with a friend from high school who is now a Creative Director looking for a new intern.

What do you do when you get stuck on a design?

I take a break, and walk away for awhile. Sometimes I'm going in circles or stuck in a box and I don’t even know it, but after some time away from the design thinking about other things I can come back with some clarity.

How do you stay creative?

Design prompts are always fun https://sharpen.design/ Otherwise perusing other designers and projects on sites like Pinterest, Dribbble, Moat.com, Logoinspirations.co, etc.

How do you stay inspired?

I’ll be honest it’s a little difficult at times; I’ll get burnt out from designing and will need a little break. After awhile, I’ll start noticing everyday things that I’ll want to change up and redesign. I always try to have a desire to make existing things better, and how that influences things I create in the future.

How do you develop your style?

Try everything out! The more mediums you practice or try out, the more you learn if you like to do those things. And if not, you can check them off your list. Some people find their niche easily or right away, and some it takes awhile. Personally, I’m still trying to find my personal style. But through trying things out, lots of practice, and a strong focus on one idea I’m getting closer to my niche.

What made you get into design?

I’ve always loved art, since I was a kid. I would always be drawing and painting, so I knew I wanted to do something with it for a career. Attending UWM gave me so many options to choose from in the art department, and even though first year classes seemed redundant, each one was a core

What are your goals?

I’d like to be the Lead Designer at a fast growing and fun company in the world of recreation, retail, or entertainment.

How do you feel about the way others will view your work?

Honestly I wonder about that all the time. You want people to love your work, and you want to be the best. But I consciously remember to try and not working

Tell me about your most favorite design moment?

I was working on a project in Experimental Typography, and our project was an interactive installation of bubble wrap typography on the streets of Milwaukee. Seeing people interact with our designs was incredible, knowing that we positively impacted their day even for just a moment felt great.

How have you been able to manage workload?

Setting a time to work on something, and when that time is up move on. If you’re on a roll that’s fine, but working on one thing forever can get you bogged down and forget about other things. If you can chip away at multiple things throughout the day by assigning them a certain time amount and in the order they need to be done then your workload will seem more manageable.

Any other advice you would give to a DVC student?

Always always always always back up your work. Invest in a hard drive and back up weekly or every other week. Ramen is great but don’t underestimate the power of a great meal, and a decent night’s sleep. It’s not “cool” to be a starving artist (literally) with no sleep. Your personal and mental health are worth more than your final projects.

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

Proffesional: Sav

What should we keep in mind with working with clients?

Your time is worth money regardless of how Mandane of a task or seems to be

How. Do you keep your professionalism up?

Fake it till you make it, it’s all about the little things like business cards, a business email. But mostly it’s carrying yourself like a professional would.

How do you brand yourself?

Find the thing that is the most you, for me it’s drugstorebuddhist as a brand name, and stick to it. Also the things that you do in your services are branding too, you want your brand to be associated with good service and excellent work!

What are the 3 most important thing a designer should know?

Not every thing you do as a designer is going to make you as an artist happy, sometimes the client wants something really simple and you just go with it.

The clients are always going to want to tweak the design to death and sometimes it hurts but it’s okay!

It’s very important to keep a personal practice for yourself just for fun where you can reach those creative goals.

How have you been able to include multi-medium work in your designs?

Products! A lot a clients only think that I can offer digital label designs or tshirts but for me having a catalog of all the things I can do as a designer and an artists helps my clients, it’s like a good menu at a restaurant they always want dessert.

What can. You say about being an entrepreneur?

It’s hard! Nobody tells you that when you run a business you’re doing the work of 6 people but it’s awesome and eventually you’ll be able to hire people if that’s your goal. But it being hard doesn’t really hurt because you’re doing what you want to be doing for your business!

How is the professional world different from the classroom?

In the classroom I feel like there is a lot of critique that’s optional and you have a lot of control, a lot of the time as a designer you show them a finished product and sometimes they need something different entirely and you have to make those changes.

What do you do when you get stuck on a design?

I look through similar projects I’ve done in the past, other designers work to be inspired and generally seeing what the industry is up to or working on a different design for a bit and circling back with fresh ideas

How do you stay creative?

KEEP YOUR OWN PRACTICE ALIVE! Even if your creative energy is not in design make sure you’re doing work for yourself!

How do you stay inspired?

Honestly the energy that the clients have when they have project ideas for you and how excited they are to work with you and see your art!

How do you develop your style?

I feel like it’s years of being an artist surrounded with others in my community and pulling from all the things that I like and making them my own.

What made you get into design?

I don’t know what happened but all the sudden people who were commissioning me decided I’d be great for logos and product labels and I fell in love with the things I could do outside of my illustration background

What are your goals?

I would love to run a store front artists collective to maintain that community that often artists desperately need to keep their practice alive

How do you feel about the way others will view your work?

Nervous as all hell, hopefully that goes away sometime but I also hope it doesn’t because it makes me want to prove myself to my peers

Tell me about your most favorite design moment?

I finished a product Commission for a clients and she loved it a lot to the point of tears for me helping her Company become Something physical that she could see outside of her head

How have you been able to manage workload?

Wake up at the same time every day even though it will kill you a little bit and keep yourself on a strict schedule even if it means having to go somewhere else just to be able to work, just because you can work at home does not mean you should

[catal-ys-t]

TO ALL THE BOYS I LOVED BEFORE

Since the famous Jenny Han’s book is now on its second sequel on Netflix, I have decided to have my own version of Lara Jean’s “unsent letter”. Who knows one of these guys might be my Peter Kavinsky, but oh, I highly doubt that. LOL

  To Mr. Know-It-All

Lots has changed since you left and being with you today seems new to me. The person in front of me right now and the person I cried about few months back is like a different person. Not that you change physically (actually you remain the same) but because I felt nothing. Feelings are just gone.

I can consider you one of the most mature "crush" I ever had. Because of you I learned that I am capable of liking someone so strong without really actually waiting something in return. Because of you, I came to know , discover and love myself even more. So Thank you.

Tho, I couldn't thank you enough for everything you did for me. You showed me how much you cared for our friendship, you saved me from my loneliness when I was starting this new life. You have given me great camaraderie that I could consider family. You taught me that life is not supposed to be always on my side, that I need to learn to let go and accept the idea that I can’t please everyone. You showed me the reality I needed to see.

I cried for you, not because you hurt me. I cried because I was foolish enough to believe in my fantasies that we could be together, that we could be more than what we are. You changed my outlook in love, life in general. You changed me. In a good way. Thank you for being who you are. Thank you for being a friend and a mentor. Your memories will always be cherished. 

To The “Fill-In” Boyfriend

I don’t know if you should be included here, I never liked you that way but sure, among all of them, you remain the consistent one. Consistent in a way that we are still the way we were since we’ve become friends. Maybe big factor of that is because we are not romantically involved. 

People keep shipping us together. They always quote, “sana kayo na lang” “bakit hindi nlang kayo” “bagay kayo” , sometimes I wonder if that’s true. I would be lying if I told you I did not consider you, because I did, not just once, but a couple of times. If maybe, just “maybe” we were on the same boat, I might give it a try, but we are not...and I am always reminded about our friendship. If I am not 100% sure about you, then why risk it? What we have is so special that I can’t afford to lose, especially you. 

You always supported me. Even in my craziest times, you never left my side. You know me well enough and that I could always run to you without worrying being judged. You know all my dramas and rants in life. You are definitely my ultimate human punching bag. 

You fill the role of being a “boyfriend”. : you took pictures of me in an IG worthy way, you surprises me with my favorites , you are accompanying me with my galas and whereabouts, you are always in game when I wanted to make fun and joke around. We simply get each other and these kind of things about us is worthy to be kept and I will do whatever it takes just to protect it. I hope you know how much you mean to me. 

  To Mr. Almost

I hate you for making me like you so much. We are the exact opposite when it comes to almost “everything” and yet you still manage to amaze me and flatter my heart in every single thing you do. 

We dated and hangout together, we texted and talked to each other until midnight, you waited for me after class; these are some efforts you did that I almost thought considering you. 

You were the first guy after J, I was willing to take chances with but at the end of the day, I still end up walking away. 

Life has given us so many chances to reconcile, too many times we lost touch and lost contact but keeps coming back. However, we both know that it ain’t gonna work. We were just too different. You said so yourself, it’s a good thing that we did not end up together because we will just hurt each other and ruin what we have. I couldn’t agree more. 

You made me happy. You made me angry. My friends don’t like you for me, but I ignored them because I was fixated on the idea of being with you. 

Until one day, I came to know that you were in a relationship with one of my friends back in high school few weeks after you flirted with me. W-H-A-T-A-J-E-R-K. *laughs*. But that’s okay, you see, I can’t stay mad at you knowing that we don’t really have the “label” to begin with. 

I was foolish to believe that you could change and be a better man for me, but maybe I am not the right person and reason for you to and you are not for me. But I was glad, that you’ve become honest with me and choose to be my friend rather than nothing at all. Thank you for saving us. 

  To My High School Sweetheart, 

Everyone has their “high school sweetheart”, someone they will never forget for the rest of their lives, and for me, that was you even we don’t get to go to the same high school.

Sooo Hi. This might be the nth letter I’m going to write for you. Actually, I already run out of words to say to you. I’ve been writing you a letter for ages but most of them was kept unread. I know you were too busy to care and none of those letters different with others; sorry’s and thank you’s  are probably the context. But do you know what is the difference this time? I am writing this together with the letters for the other guys I used to like and realizing how much you mean to me and how deep our bond was, than the rest of them. What I have with them  is nothing compared to what we had . It’s just magical that feels like it never happened. 

We were immaturely young. We don’t know what we are putting ourselves into. We barely understand what “love” really meant but one thing I am sure of,  you made me the happiest I could ever have been. It was like a dream. Your love was like a dream. I wish it never has to end. 

Half of me still regrets, half of me don’t. We hurt each other, caused each other’s pain, there are things that should not have been said and done. It ruined us and I know things between us may never be the same anymore, but what we had gave us the clarity and reality of what life has to offer. It was indeed a beautiful disaster.

I am who I am today because of that experience and I am so grateful to God that I came to experience such as this. I don’t know if it’s even close enough of what they called “love” but it  gives me opportunity to know myself more and realized what matters most in life.

I know God has His reason why it has to be with you. God gave me you, for a reason. We may not restore the friendship we had before, I know what we will have is better than that, besides, you are a family. 

J, Thank you for everything and I am genuinely sorry for all the trouble and dramas I’ve caused you. Immature e. hehe . 

You have a special place in my heart. Always have. Always will. 

I’ll see you soon. :) 

   To My Puppy Love,

It is funny how we never had the chance to become friends. You were friends with my friends, our families are friends, I am friends with your family but we are never friends. LOL. We were too young back then when I was infatuated with you, that I almost thought I was in love with you. I started dreaming about you and me; I even wrote my first poem for you, and oh, my first love letter is written for you too (which is read by your whole family *blush*).

I don't know what keeps me liking you for so long, maybe one factor is that we never been close, I really don’t know you and that the image of you I created inside my head is so perfect that no other guy could match it. In addition, the teased I am getting from our friends and family is endless.

I was crazy about you. You were the prince charming I’ve been dreaming since I was a kid. You were the boy in my fantasies, the love story I have written inside my head. But boy, I don’t live on fantasies anymore. I outgrow that fairy tale.

I remember that one summer when you console me because I was heartbroken. I don’t know how it started, I just woke up one morning and you were there joking around with me. And to be totally honest with you, I don’t know what to feel, I just ended up my relationship with someone and yet I was happy because you were there for me and it was so wrong to feel. That summer, I thought we could be friends…or maybe more. But no. You have a girlfriend, you told me how much you loved her and I am overwhelmed with your honesty. I liked you more for that, but not in a way that wanted you to be mine. I knew back then that I am still not over J and I am just trying to forget the pain. After that summer, we are back in our normal…we never talked again.

 For me, you will always be that person I never had the chance to be friends with, which is by the way for the best, because I want to keep your image pure and innocent. Lets keep it that way.  

Nevertheless, I have to tell you how much I owe my childhood years to you. You made it more colorful and exciting. You inspired me so much and you have been part of the person who am I today. Thank you.

All Love, 

Jes.

[papyrus-parables-blog]

The Worse Person

Despite my somewhat socially stunted childhood, I did actually manage to make at least one friend! They cried really easily, even more so than me. Comforting them became my main concern, and I felt, somehow, like a big brother to them. ... Something about that thought made me itch ... but never the less!

My father was always very generous with me. When he wasn't doing experiments, or taking long rests, he was usually humoring me. Though his demeanor seemed to set others on edge, he always had a kind smile for me. I couldn't possibly fear him - and neither could his assistants.I wasn't always left by myself, after all.

Frequently when my father would go out, he would take me along with me. That meant getting in the river person's gondola, and making our way to Hotland, where his laboratory was located. There, I was left to myself as well ... but, there were so many other things to explore! If it weren't for his assistants, I surely would of gotten electrocuted, chemically burned, or whatever else injury or fatality from what was scattered about. At least one of them would always watch me when I was there, and I got to know them all. After some time, his assistants became like family to me. ... a family I desperately wanted.

None of them were alike, but most of them were fun! They were always very patient with me, listening, and humoring my grand stories and tales. I had big dreams afterall, and I intended to tell everyone who would listen! The "battle body" my father had gifted me years ago was worn, but it was also stitched and well loved - and I wore it every chance I got. They would sing along with me, and play pretend. I really felt like a hero in those moments! ... but, not all of them were so nice.

One his assistants, I remember well, was very stern. She always had a slight frown on her mouth whenever she looked at me, and, unlike the others, she had no patience. Whenever I did something wrong and she was the one watching me, getting yelled at would be the tamest of punishments. While my father and the other assistants were fairly lenient on me, preferring a soft glove method, she was all iron fist.

On one occasion, she snapped. I had done something I had done a million times, it seemed. For some reason, I always had an issue holding in my excess magic. It was always painful, and toilets were so hard and cold. I hated it. But, inevitably, I couldn't wear diapers forever, and I was forced to learn to use it. ... it was one of the few things I would only ever do purposely wrong. I'd usually hide myself in the smallest, most hidden place in the lab, and just ... hold it. Until I couldn't. The other assistants tried to be as positive and promotive of using the bathroom, but ... it hadn't been effective. When she was the one watching me, however, yelling was the least of my worries.

I was hiding in one of those corners, when I heard, on cue, her calling voice. But when she found me, covered in my shame, her voice hit a high pitch that I knew meant I was in trouble. I cowered, but there was no where to go, and I was snatched up by the arm, away from my safe spot. The rest of the event was a bit of a blur for me. I'm certain she yelled at me some more, and that she cleaned me up ... but what happened after was something I never forgot - with piercing clarity.

I was pulled over her lap, and I was told, ‘what was about to happen was punishment for continuing not to listen’. I squirmed in innate terror, but it made no difference. She took a flat, solid object to my tailbone. Once. twice. three four five. No one had ever laid a hand on me before, but she had no qualms about it. I don't remember my reaction, not outwardly anyway. I just remember feeling so ... violated. It's not like I wanted to do this! I yelled inside my head. I didn't want to do something that hurt me! But I was being punished, and hurt anyways. I was certain I cried, but the afterwards of that moment are lost to me. What was certain is I never, ever, got along with her, from that point forward.

She was only doing what she thought was best. She only wanted to relieve the "burden" placed on my father. Even though I often saw them argue, she also seemed to be the closest to my father, even compared to myself ... strangely irritating as it was.

But one day ... one day I did something truly bad. Something horrible.

It was the weekend, I remembered. Nothing much was going on in the house, but that stern assistant was with my father in the kitchen, simply talking with him. They seemed to be smiling and having fun. She always smiled with him. So I thought what I was going to ask next was going to be perfect.

"Daddy."

My father halted his conversation and turned his head to me, despite the slight down turn of lips from his assistant. "What is it, Papyrus?"

I beamed up at him. "My friend just called me! They said they wanted me to come over. Can I??"

Instead of the quick and happy reply I expected, I received a, "No."

I blinked. Then my bone brow furrowed. "No?"

"That's what I said." He said with a tone of finality.

I wasn't about to let it drop. "Why not?" I thought I deserved to hear that much.

"Because I said so."

Despite what many may think, that is not an actual reason, and my soul flipped in outrage. "But ... but there's nothing going on! You're not busy! We're not doing anything! So why won't you let me go?!" I felt completely justified with my question. I could find zero reason why I shouldn't be able to leave.

Still, "Because I said so." Repeated. "Drop it Papyrus." Daddy was frowning at me now. He looked oddly tired, even more so than usual.

I didn't care. I was still outraged. "But, that's not a reason!! There's no reason I can't go!! You're just being mean for no good reason!!" I was straight up yelling now - a classic temper tantrum.

Usually his response to this was to put on a blank face, and disengage me ... but he wasn't doing that this time. He looked ... vulnerable.

So I pushed. And I pushed. And I pushed. Such harsh words, hard demands. It went on for full minutes. I could see his expression changing, he was breaking! I just needed to push a little farther ...

"It's not fair!! You're not being fair!! Nice parents don't do this sort of things to their kids!! You have no reason not to let me go!! You're being mean!! You're being awful!! You're being a bad parent!! A good parent would let me go, but you're a bad parent!!" I hammered it home with all my fury.

Then he cracked. ... but, not in the way I expected. Instead of a blank face, or a face that said, I give up, his face ... was in pain. His own brow was furrowed, and ... there were tears in his eyes? He clasped a hand over his mouth, muffling any sound, and turned away from me.

It hit me then, like a ton of bricks. I hurt father. I had hurt one of the few people who loved me, truly and deeply - unconditionally. I had hurt that incredibly, amazing, wonderful, precious person to me and- I need to apologize. I need to make this right. Nothing was worth seeing him upset. I never wanted to make him of all people upset. I had to hug him, and apologize, a million times. I had to make sure he was okay. Oh god, I never wanted to hurt him. I opened my mouth, and stepped forward and-

I was pulled back.

I looked up on shock, and met the dead eyes of his assistant. Her face was ... cold. So terribly cold. It was filled with a sense of ... she expected no better. I was struck, straight through my core. Despite my desire to make things right, her disposition scared me still.

She continued to pull at me, until I was out of the kitchen. Then she gave me one final look, and said, "Go sit in the corner." and closed the door to the kitchen behind her. 

I was left alone. My father was left with her. And I ... well, though numb, and in distress, I went to my punishment, of course.

I had done something ... very, very bad. I did something I could never say sorry enough about, but ... she had pulled me away before I had the chance. Just thinking of upsetting my father made me want to cry. It still stung me. Her expression. She had never been nice to me, she had never expected anything good out of me - her emotions rolled off of her ... but despite everything, it stung. Deep. 

After the punishment was over, and I was allowed to speak to my father again ... I didn't know what to say. There never seemed to be a good time, a right time, to say how sorry I was. He didn't seem to want to bring it up again. So, I swallowed, and never did end up apologizing for it. No matter what I would do, from that point forward, I would never see him cry in front of me like that again.

... that was the event that started it. That was when my soul developed a small, nearly insignificant crack, and I began to believe, "I am a bad person."

No amount of apologies, confidence, or smiles, would change that.

[ralphmorgan-blog1]

A Letter Of Resignation: What Its Like To Hit Rock Bottom

Tomas Chevalier

This is Spaceship Earth. It is, to the day, exactly as old as I am. We were both born October 3, 1982. We’ve been alive for 34 years, 10 months and 17 days. Earlier this year, I ran past it on my way to completing the very first marathon I’d ever run … a quite literally unbelievable feat for someone who was born with lungs that function at 53% capacity. The race took me 6 hours, 42 minutes and 25 seconds. Upon completion, I had a glass of champagne. I deserved it. This story is only tangentially about that.

Exactly half my life ago, some 17 years, 5 months and 8 days ago, I started a career which has been well documented — yet hidden in plain sight. It was an illustrious career, which netted me a great deal of satisfaction and joy. I am here today to announce my retirement from it. I’ve held a lot of jobs during that time — waiter, bartender, writer, musician, branding “guru”, marketing manager, mathematician, weatherman, sports columnist, podcast host — but none of them were my real career. I’m holding onto the jobs I still have. Today, I am firmly, unequivocally retiring from the sport of professional drinking. And, so I am clear on this, let me say the words that will haunt you, so that I may no longer be haunted by keeping them secret: I am John Gorman. And I am, in no uncertain terms, an alcoholic.

It’s almost my brand at this point, but, in case you’re new: I’ve spent the past year or so in a spectacular downward spiral. I am, by all metrics, less healthy and happy than I was in the Spring of 2016, when I was at my absolute pinnacle. The decline was so gentle, and the zenith so high, that I barely felt real ramifications even though I knew things were getting wobbly at the top. I still (thankfully) have my job. I still have (most of) my friends. And only very few people pointed out to me that I had “changed.”

But I, myself, could tell what was happening. So I went running for answers. I traveled the country, hoping to find them. I visited old friends in old cities. I visited ex-girlfriends. I saw baseball games. I saw concerts. I drank in dimly lit bars. I pillaged my past — the people and places and activities from it — to try and rediscover myself. Often, I didn’t find what I was looking for. Even if I had a helluva lot of fun along the way. This was piece and parcel of my life writ large — a never-ending party, a show designed to entertain those who dared to watch, at the expense of myself and my health.

In April in New York, on a very long, dimly lit night, I drank in Astoria with one of my best friends, and a woman I hadn’t seen in seven years. I had been cataclysmically drunk the entire weekend to that point, and I would continue to be right up until the morning after I’d returned to Austin. But, while at the bar, I said, frankly, “Follow me down the black hole.” I knew where I was headed, because I had already been there. Aided by cognac and fernet, I found I could be refreshingly candid with them, even if that meant being unusually dark and nihilist. And that was the easiest thing to notice: my darkness. That was new. That didn’t exist before — at least not outwardly. And that was my first warning sign that it was time for me to walk away. (The dozens of empty champagne bottles in my pantry that had been building up since Christmas of 2015 didn’t ring the alarm, but the inability to hide my sadness apparently was a bridge too far.)

My most recent ex used to compare me to Mr. Peanut Butter from for my relentless positivity. And, at the time I had met her, it was hard not to be clear skies and warm sun all the time. Everything was going my way: I was in the best shape and health of my life, my career was in the perfect spot, I had some money saved up, I had a ton of good quality relationships with friends and family, and I generally spent most of my day doing things I loved to do — music, writing, running, biking, reading and learning things. I did this, I think, because I had spent a good majority of the previous year sober. You see, I knew I had to stop drinking in the fall of 2014. And I had.

I was already out of control by that point, a man so enamored with whiskey and gin that I’d blacked out on my 32nd birthday after making out with five women — none of women were the one I was dating at the time, and, frankly, she was probably the greatest woman I’d ever dated, and, yes … she left me for good the following day — and, to quote an observer, I spent a solid hour “flopping around on the ground like a dolphin out of the sea.” I quit then. And I mostly didn’t drink for over a year thereafter. I did it without broadcasting it to the world. (Mostly.)

But I remember the day I re-started in earnest — it was the day I met the woman I couldn’t bare to be without. It was an innocent sidecar on our first date, on November 8, 2015. We broke up the week before I went to New York. And, yes, I went to New York because we broke up. I drunkenly cancelled the trip I had planned for us to go to Cuba, since that was no longer in the cards, and used that money to fly to the concrete jungle where dreams are made of. And, for the first time, I was forced to reconcile with who I’d become while making peace with a past that, while wonderful, was tinged with regret. I met an ex-girlfriend to see Waitress. I met another one at a dive in Brooklyn, where I sucked down Tito’s and Soda until I was blue in the fucking face.

My darkness was suddenly front-and-center. I was confronted with it, with nowhere left to turn, because how can anyone escape themselves. I was now completely unhinged, detached from time and space and reality. I turned my drinking — as I often have, but never to the extent that I did now — into a cloak of invincibility; shielding me from consequences for my actions. Now that my tank of fucks left to give was dry, I didn’t have to give any. I started behaving … erratically. Drinking more, and more often, than usual. On an average night, some five-to-six nights per week, I would put away somewhere between 10 and 20 shots of alcohol. This has been the case for the past year. That’s not a misprint.

I was losing interest in things I once loved, and taking a liking to pursuits that could kill me if I did them long enough. Pursuits like finding my way to the bottom of a bottle — every day, many times per day. I also began numbing myself through sex, Netflix, rich foods, travel and experiences. And those were all great, because, well — what isn’t great when you’re hashtag living your best life? My behavior was Instagrammable. When I would tell people “all I do is drink until I black out, smoke until I can’t breathe, eat pizza until I can’t walk, and fuck anyone and everyone,” people complimented me on my fierce independence and brash silliness. And although I was broadcasting my sadness and self-cruelty to the world, no one seemed to get the message.

And, when those wells of distraction had run dry, or I couldn’t muster the energy to go out into the world, I began to mindlessly scroll my social media feeds — not even for the sake of connecting with people or commenting, but merely to pass the time. And I fell into a rut. And even more drinking. The quest to find the answer for the darkness became an imperative, and, arguably, the actual answer to the darkness itself. I was becoming sick and sad, cynical and weird, lazy and fearful. The walls began to close in — and then they collapsed.

I spent a morning that lasted all afternoon holed up in a hotel room in Phoenix, pounding bottles of champagne and staring into my phone hoping the meaning of life would magically appear. I was paralyzed, crippled by fear and darkness and anxiety. What’s wrong with me? And I began to think with a very specific, urgent purpose. I was going to lean into this feeling and find my way out.

I reasoned, with unusual clarity, that at the root of my drinking and my suffering is a pathological desire to not be alone. To be wanted, needed, validated and rewarded. This checked about 80% of the boxes: My steady stream of “content” I put out on my Facebook feed. My inability to say no to smoking or drinking if someone asks me to, my pathological willingness to take on more work, go to more events, and do more favors than I can realistically handle. My propensity for flirting with almost everyone. My insatiable messiah complex. My hyper-sensitivity to criticism from friends, peers and lovers. But that did not quite cut to the root of it. The question I then proposed: why can’t I be alone?

Initially, I thought I did not like myself. But as I reasoned objectively, that wasn’t always the case. There were times when I *did* like myself very much. 2015 was a prime example. In fact, I can look back at most of my life and say, yes, I was someone I would find interesting, and decent to hang out with. But I realized I felt that way in times when I was very busy — being with people, experiencing new things, accomplishing goals, performing well at tasks, making and creating. And I like all those things about me. But baseline?

I then went to baseline. I decided to drown myself in … myself. And more champagne. I ghosted social media for two weeks. I went off-grid. And I was, unsurprisingly, miserable. But I kept thinking. And kept listening. It was quiet on the outside — and loud as hell in my head.

In the midst of that quiet, that’s when I heard it: My hyper-critical, rude, caustic and abrasive internal dialogue. The voice in my head that kept directing me: You should be doing something. You shouldn’t be 34 and single. You should be farther along in your career. You shouldn’t be such a whore. You shouldn’t drink so much. You know you shouldn’t be smoking that. When are you going to get off anti-anxiety meds? Why are you so fat? Don’t eat that. Don’t drink that. That’s bad for you. You’re unhealthy. You’re weird. You’re lazy. You’re careless. You’re a fuck-up. You’re going to ruin your life. You’re going to die. No one will remember you. No one’s going to love you. You’re nothing. You should kill yourself.

And that’s when I learned. Everything I do is an attempt to silence, or escape, the impossibly cruel and exacting voice inside my head. Sometimes this manifests itself in a good way: Travelling, pouring myself into my work, learning new things, creating music, writing, rock climbing, other novel experiences. These only temporarily silence the voice. But, at my core, I realized that’s why I drank. To shut the mouth of the asshole who lives inside my head.

I swam back up to the surface and took a deep breath. There would be no deeper insight. I finally understood why I am who I am. And, the way I’d been coping with it, was not respite — it was fanning the flames.

Let’s talk for a minute about what being an alcoholic is really like. I sleep on an un-made bed, with no sheets on it, sheets that are balled up in a laundry basket, covered in cat vomit. That’s if I make it to bed. Most days I black out on the couch, watching Cold War documentaries for the sake of self-edification and yet almost nothing stays with me overnight. I mostly wake up wondering what year it is.

I started smoking a pack a day, for whatever reason, as if it’s not stupid enough to smoke anything at all while I — again — have 53% of a human lung. Imagine being born with COPD and then being like “nah, fuck it, I don’t care how I die, so I might as well die in the most obvious way possible, as soon as possible.”

I have, to the best of my knowledge, slept with over 200 women — 30 in the past six months. I do not know why. Maybe to beat back the inescapable loneliness. Actually, only for that reason. Had I been capable of loving myself, I probably wouldn’t need so many people to love me.

I’ve gotten too drunk on two dates in the past month — both of which were with people I actually, truly, adored, and still do. There were no second dates. Imagine, being able to find love and punting on it because fernet shots are so much more desirable than potential life-long companionship.

My house is a certified sty. Dishes piled on the counter-top. Nacho debris littered all over the rug. I should probably be vacuuming instead of writing this. I’m not. Imagine, coming home, wading through a pile of bottles and bullshit, and thinking “nah, that’s fine. The minefield is just the price I pay for living with myself.”

I have eaten five meals this week. Three of which were (full, large) pizzas. One of which was a pasta salad that had been sitting out at room temperature for 24 hours, but, I didn’t have the self-discipline to throw it out and eat something else. Imagine being so in the realm of not giving a shit that you willingly say to yourself “there’s definitely bacteria in this and this smells like dead squirrel, but, fuck it, I’m hungry and this tastes fine.” I’ve lost 10 pounds in the past six months, subsisting only on carbonated liquids that range from IPA to bourbon. Only eating when my body was literally craving a vegetable. (BTW, if you ever think, “Fuck, that salad looks delicious,” you’re probably farther down the path of an unhealthy lifestyle than you think you are.)

And so, now, here I stand: at the precipice, staring into the abyss, and realizing the time is now to turn the car around before it careens over the cliff. 17 years, 5 months and 8 days was just long enough to be at the peak of my powers. Or, more accurately, to be actively sabotaging me from being at the peak of my powers. I plan on spending the next 17 years, 5 months and 8 days — yes, until I am literally 52 years old, should I make it that far without dying from what I’ve already done to myself — sober. I am calling it a career. And, while, it had been a helluva ride to be sure, I want to stop the coaster and head to another amusement park.

I am, currently, drinking — one last set of drinks. Yes, I’ve written this drunk. I started at noon with a 512 IPA — the beer that I drank when I wrapped my car around a tree. I continued with champagne — the drink I never loved until I met the woman I thought I’d finally found everlasting love with, the one who I, inadvertently, drove away because my personality changed so very much after I began guzzling alcohol like it was oxygen. I, then, stopped at a bar to enjoy a shot of whiskey and a shot of fernet, just to say goodbye to the two spirits that put me in the highest of spirits. And, now, two beers: Avery Brewing Company’s Maharaja, the first craft beer I was ever given for free, the one that kickstarted my writing career (I started as a beer blogger), and La Fin du Monde, which is my favorite beer of all time, and which literally means “The End of the World” in French. It feels apt. Tomorrow, I go to the doctor, and I talk to her about the things I’ve done and where is left to go from here. Who knows what comes next.

Most people only write about getting sober after they’ve been at it a while, and it’s an inspirational story about self-discipline and perseverance. This is not that. This is a story about being the very bottom, holding onto the last blade of grass before you fall off the face of the Earth. This is a story that, while disjointed, and poorly written, is as accurate and raw of an account of where I am today as any of the most articulate theses I’ve written in my many years of writing. Actually, more so. This is, truly, me. Unvarnished. Unedited. Finally present. I am a fucking mess. A fraud. Not a failure, no, there is no such thing, but someone who can no longer be trusted to fix things on his own. Maybe I was never that person. I do not know.

I mention Spaceship Earth because on the day I ran by it, at the pinnacle of my athletic career, I was 205 pounds (I typically tip the scales at about 170) and drinking and eating myself to death. The night before, I had unpacked a bottle of champagne, and pounded it to fall asleep that night. I did this at 9 p.m. I needed to be awake in six hours. I ran that marathon hungover, sweating out booze as I ran through every excruciating minute of those 26.2 miles. I did it as a sort of penance, but also as a sort of call-to-action: “If I can do this in the state I’m in, what can I do if I actually tried?” I thought about that for a while, and realized I’d never truly tried at anything. The only thing I’d ever put my heart and soul into was the relationship I started drinking again for. Everything else has been a happy byproduct of just being alive and good at whatever the fuck I was doing at the time.

I don’t know what trying feels like. I don’t know what happiness feels like. I, increasingly, don’t know what sobriety feels like. I don’t know what I feel like. And, to be clear, now I want to know. I’ve spent half my life drinking — nearly every day, some days more than others — and now I wish to stop. This is my letter of resignation. I do not know what the future holds for me. I am scared. I am lost. I am unsure what my next career will be. I can only hope that it leads me to a place that isn’t where I am right now, because where I am right now feels like the literal Fin du Monde. And at 34 years, 10 months and 17 days old, that’s just too goddamn soon to say goodbye.

More From this publisher : HERE

=> *********************************************** Learn More Here: A Letter Of Resignation: What Its Like To Hit Rock Bottom ************************************ =>

A Letter Of Resignation: What Its Like To Hit Rock Bottom was originally posted by A 18 MOA Top News from around

[tinymixtapes]

Feature: 2017: First Quarter Favorites

Three months in, and we haven’t destroyed ourselves! To celebrate this achievement, we’re once again sharing our favorite releases from the last few months. A lot of it is pretty heavy, focusing on grief (Mount Eerie), cruelty (Lawrence English), and self-loathing (Xiu Xiu), with other fun stuff like ritual guitar abuse (Skullflower) and the glowing horror of reanimation (Rashad Becker). But we also loved everything from urban gallery funk (Cybervision Simulcast) and philosophic horse opera (Sun Araw) to playful Afromutations (Riddlore) and pop so sugary sweet it’ll rot your teeth (Charli XCX). Something for everyone. ;) Since these quarter lists are more informal than our year-end features, the shortlist before the list proper is equally important (especially Dasychira’s Immolated EP, which got a lot of love since assembling this list). Check ‘em all out below, and maybe see you in another three? Shortlist: Moon B’s Lifeworld 2: Udaya, nekomimi + luvfexxx, LUVISCOLD, Sophiaaaahjkl;8901’s Toilet Abstraction Tapes, Gabor Lazar’s Crisis of Representation, Darren Keen, It’s Never Too Late To Say You’re Welcome, Mega Bog’s Happy Together, Tonstartssbandht’s Sorcerer, Dasychira’s Immolated, Drake’s More Life, William Basinski’s A Shadow in Time, Roc Marciano’s Rosebudd’s Revenge, Future’s HNDRXX, Blanck Mass’ World Eater, and PAN’s mono no aware compilation. --- Mount Eerie A Crow Looked At Me [P.W. Elverum & Sun] I can barely listen to A Crow Looked At Me, an album with little room for novelty, one I’m sure Phil Elverum never wanted to make. Death is the least novel thing in life, but it makes a novelty out of what never was before. Phil (who I feel maybe too close to now) makes white noise of branches, canyons of grocery store aisles, a sunset of what is not dust. He doesn’t have to make meaning of Death, because words become futile when confronted with something so simple and absolute. His grief seems just to be here, contained by the same microphone as guitar, the way someone who dies just can’t be. I don’t think music had ever made me cry only for someone else, but none of this sounds like it was made for anyone but Geneviève and himself. He says he doesn’t want to learn anything from his wife’s death, but by the time you’ve shut your eyes for 40 minutes, alone with the creaking floor and counted days and Pacific birds and spoken dreams, I can’t imagine not coming away with (something) more. It’s springtime. –Pat Beane --- Riddlore Afromutation [Nyege Nyege Tapes] The modest genius of Riddlore’s Afromutations, the January offering from Ugandan cassette label Nyege Nyege Tapes, stems from a certain perspectival grace. A longstanding figure of the Los Angeles hip-hop underground, Riddlore is known first as an emcee and second as a beatmaker. Afromutations sees the artist sketching a playful, iterative bass style drawn from samples of African field recordings, a hauntological gesture that in less subtle hands might fall into a self-serious wormhole. The tape’s beauty is in how the timbral mood of the samples gesture at and usher into place the recombinant scaffolding of the relatively untreated percussion, like how the choral tension that opens “Bakka Pygmies Riddim” blossoms into an eerie kuduro strut. Elsewhere, on “Afroed” and “The Crush,” drums and overlapping harmonies flange into natural psychedelias. Riddlore’s agenda-absent play allows the samples to mutate freely, and Nyege Nyege serves an adept platform for the project. –Nick Henderson Afromutations by RiddloreAfromutations by Riddlore --- The Necks Unfold [Ideologic Organ] To unfold, usually, is to grow, to expand; to sprawl. On their 19th release, The Necks have instead tightened their improvisational nous to four standalone pieces, invoking the mysticism of Cusanus: “unfolding is enfolding.” These anti-compositions unfold insofar as they protrude into space-time and become of-the-world, cosmological chaos and all; they enfold into the broader scheme of the album, all unified through the articulate chops of Messrs Abrahams, Swanton, and Buck. Between balance and imbalance, serenity and turbulence, the respective instrumental forces of the players here circumnavigate these side-long miniatures with microscopic focus and reticence, in characteristically Necks-ian fashion. And, even when compared with classics past, there’s no compromise on ambition, not a single wasted moment. Such is the dynamism of Unfold; what initially struck as blissful stasis, best suited for gazing into the pale blue yonder, gently opens up — and, yeah, unfolds — to yield four of the most self-contained, wholly busy musics that 2017 has had to offer thus far. –Soe Jherwood Cybervision Simulcast Sewer City [H.V.R.F. CENTRAL COMMAND] Sewer City kicks up all the residual funk of an urban galley. Where oil encrusted kebab meat sweats on rotation, busted street lights stutter into the night, and ripple-rich puddles highlight the only natural quality to animate the scene, as thick droplets of rain are spat down from the stubborn grey heavens above. Cybervision Simulcast drape this grizzly vision through the innards of a pitch-black bypass drenched in alarms, sirens, and ricochet. Everything points to a breakdown or dysfunction, as this bleak snapshot of municipal decay melts to nothingness through our slime-smeared fingers. But those signals of distress are incorporated within the process, and they are not to be heeded for what they might otherwise signify; they orchestrate the bass-inverted crank that punctuates the residue of samples, synths, and storyline. To suggest that this grizzled and failing image results in a perfect album would be distasteful — obscene, even. And yet, that’s precisely what’s happened every time I’ve taken the plunge so far. There is no light at the end of this tunnel. Let’s keep it that way. –Birkut SewerCity by Cybervision SimulcastSewerCity by Cybervision Simulcast --- Charli XCX Number 1 Angel [Asylum] Out of the cold dark dust, the Number 1 Angel spreads her wings for Utopia, so emotional and so sugary sweet it’ll rot your teeth. After one of the strangest ascensions (“I! Don’t! Care!”) in the pop industry, Charli XCX is thriving. VROOM VROOM’s EUREKA! production was Charli at a 100% synchronization rate, and now she’s spun a 40-minute pop slipstream, an outside World of babygirls and babyboys. The PC Music crew sheds some of the hyperreal, sourcing Charli’s charisma and songwriting prowess to shoot for real stars: color-coded bangers, sweatsoaked and tearstained, a clarity of vision that at once opens avataric and musical possibilities in the channel of Rihanna and Kesha. The party’s enfolding. Number 1 Angel is Charli’s every intuition refined in hi-fi, the best-yet gateway for anyone not already along for the ride. Ten songs for one night. Glitter in your underwear, left on red. Let’s ride! The closing trilogy of features (Uffie, ABRA, cupcakKe) is fucked-up perfect. Each outrunning the last, headfirst till the 90s bubblegum pops. The synths kick up cinnamon for a minute-long Secret Mix outro. Inextinguishable, enlightening. It’s Charli, baby. –Pat Beane [pagebreak] --- Various Artists Club Chai Vol. 1 [Club Chai] When you’re in the right club, with the right music, with the right crowd, you can feel your body. You’re present in it, in its creases and protrusions, in its decorations and accoutrements, in its movements and vibrations in space, in its careful caressings and navigations around and through other bodies. You can feel it as something fluid, the cells and lipstick and lungs and heels and bass and drugs and genders and hi-hats and drifting and splitting melodies and languages morphing the movement of your limbs into a movement of potentials. You think, “I am in this body and I am feeling these other bodies and I know that this body can be something else, it can be what it wants to be, it can be what it doesn’t want to be, this shell is the end and the beginning and I am going to be fucking gorgeous.” Club Chai is a loose collective of queer and trans club DJs and producers out of Oakland pushing that continuum into the right-now-right-now-right-now of sonic uncertainty, gender uncertainty, national uncertainty. And it feels right. –Jeffrey Dunn Rovinelli Club Chai Vol. 1 by Club ChaiClub Chai Vol. 1 by Club Chai --- Lawrence English Cruel Optimism [Room40] I consider myself an optimist, but I haven’t always been positive. My sense of trust in goodness has grown as I’ve unpacked how cynicism has poisoned many of my relationships (with partners, with friends, with art). Then again, being an optimist, as Louis CK once asserted, means being stupid. There’s a delicate balance between being confident in humanity’s potential for good and accepting humanity’s cruelty as simply the cost of business. Lawrence English’s latest release is music for contemplating what’s writhing around deep in humanity’s psyche. Its requiem is solemn, because nobody’s sense of “goodness” has won yet, its negative drones promising because they still have matter to vibrate through. Cruel Optimism is nominally a meditation on how human desire often breeds cruelty at humanity’s own expense, but as a sound work, it is also a reminder that optimism, shed of its colonizing skin, can overcome cruelty. –Jackson Scott Cruel Optimism by Lawrence EnglishCruel Optimism by Lawrence English --- Quelle Chris Being You Is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often [Mello Music Group] In college, a friend of mine had a line that went something like, “Your shit is wacker than the ‘you’ that every rapper writes about.” Although I can’t remember exactly how it went, or if it was ever even put to record, I always thought that was so dope: taking aim at the proverbial second person by acknowledging its ubiquitous metanarrative; uplifting recorded battle rap by breaking its third wall. Doper still, the idea that an omnipresent, sucker MC named “You” might actually exist. Being You Is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often complicates the above concept by incorporating hip-hop’s superego, the proverbial I, and framing that id character as both a role model for personal success and a self-destructive nemesis. Like “Who Am I” as a slapstick comedy about the creative process. –Samuel Diamond Being You Is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often by Quelle ChrisBeing You Is Great, I Wish I Could Be You More Often by Quelle Chris --- Sun Araw The Saddle of the Increate [Sun Ark/Drag City] The Saddle of the Increate shuffles the few short steps across from Belomancie’s chambers of internal refraction to twitch and twinge its way through into the shining territory of the lonesome whippoorwill — outdoors, that is. Well, at least there’s a pedal steel or two, a cactus, and a 10-gallon hat — it’s a [“psychedelic”] philosophic horse opera, tough as an actor, distracted but gruffly tender, especially in its latter sections. There’s a space and a half between every point; we can give names to/for every constellation, a classical reference or two even, but it’s still… complex — and how is the soul (your soul) distinct from its powers anyway? Spatially disorienting, temporally atomistic, concrete in image, plastic in execution: seven lampstands have become seven horses (and four hats, a head of cattle, one bowl, etc. etc.). Like pulling a wishbone with yourself, be 100% ready to spit in the skillet. –Michael J --- Graham Lambkin Community [ErstSolo/Kye] As Jackson Scott so rightly put, Graham Lambkin’s Community is “a document of what a community can create without dictating what a community should entail; it is evidence without the arrogance of conclusion.” Not community, but the evidence of community. In fact, the trace audible evidences of sound becoming located in new environments is exactly what establishes Lambkin’s practice and medium — a medium that so mysteriously auditions sonic evidence into richly communicative listening spaces. In Community, we are bathed by this evidence, in communion with it; it is threaded inside of the spaces we inhabit, our daily lives and interactions — those already in articulation. Voiced as such, the album is a masterclass in Lambkin’s quotidian character, flattened into a natural, weathered state close to the void — close to how impossible and brilliant our communities are. It reminds us that our communities exist often without us, within and without our human attempts to locate them. –scvscv --- Camedor En Ut / Alba [Debacle] The scoff that is heard ‘round the world at any mention of “world” music may not be the constructive criticism the catch-all term deserves, but it is the noise necessary to make a greater point. But may we suggest replacing that negativity with a positive denotation? Enter Camedor’s debut 12-inch, which is the sound of the world sucked into a wormhole wherein time, space, and location matter little. In a nutshell, it represents the “new” idea of world music, where we no longer place such a limiting genre marker on what is music now easily accessible to all. Both songs borrow from mid-century composers (including a “cover” of Terry Riley’s “In C”), but also pull everything out of the grab bag of motorik, drone, and pop. José Orozco Mora has layered it all into a wondrous noise that may heavily borrow from Western tropes and styles, but is music from parts (un)known. You may not catch much Berber or Aboriginal influence, but what matters is how Mora’s Camedor speaks to building bridges between cultures through music. It’s a shared form of expression, and the joyous, raucous nature of En Ut / Alba is a celebration of worlds colliding into symphonic harmony. –Jspicer En Ut / Alba by CamedorEn Ut / Alba by Camedor [pagebreak] --- Skullflower The Spirals of Great Harm [Cold Spring] The Spirals of Great Harm has a clear lineage in the Skullflower discography. It’s a step beyond Strange Keys to Untune Gods Firmament (also a double album) and Taste the Blood of the Deceiver, though it follows a similar trek down the left-hand path. Played at a low volume, its minor key melodies and themes are apparent enough, but turn it up and its lacerating feedback has a much harsher effect. Bower and collaborator Samantha Davies (the only other constant in the modern Skullflower lineup) unleash hell through ritual guitar abuse. Outsiders may not readily understand how much different this album is from 2014’s dragon-themed Draconis, but to longtime admirers, it’s a step away from that album’s meandering psych, the style of which Bower used to reserve for his Sunroof! project. Kneeling in worship at the altar of the underworld, stacks of amplifiers in tow, Bower and Davies have crafted another indispensable addition to their canon. –Joe Davenport --- Xiu Xiu FORGET [Polyvinyl] Pray for Xiu Xiu. As many of their contemporaries have either faded from the record and/or embraced a life as background material for iPod commercials [ed: NO SHADE ON IPODS], Jamie Stewart’s long-running project has — like unchecked tooth decay — only deepened with age. Delivering maybe their most “accessible” album since formative hit Fabulous Muscles (a record whose key lyric was still “Cremate me after you cum on my lips”), FORGET brings all the self-loathing, harsh sarcasm, wonky instrumentation, and harrowing Dennis Cooperisms we have come to depend on from the Xiuverse. Whether you love it or not, Stewart and his gang have sustained a distinct interpretation of the world through what can feel like a lifetime’s worth of trend-shifting; for this alone, the band’s persistence should be cherished. That FORGET is one of their best albums to date is a surprise and a delight, the sign of a legacy act finding new life (the light, New Order-echoing “Get Up” is an album highlight) and handing us a deceptively poppy, booby-trapped gift to both longtime fans and newcomers. –Dylan Pasture FORGET by Xiu XiuFORGET by Xiu Xiu --- Rashad Becker Traditional Music of Notional Species Vol. II [PAN] Rashad Becker is a musician who is known for mastering other musicians’ work. His operation at Dubplates & Mastering is prolific and now famous in the world of experimental and electronic music, its most recent accomplishments including masters of The Necks’ Unfold, Visible Cloaks’ Reassemblage, and the great new PAN compilation Mono No Aware, but probably the most adventurous and distinctive of the records Becker has engineered of late is his own. He makes music with the freedom of a person who spends a lot of time thinking about the relationship between music and media of expression. PAN officially describes Becker’s Notions as “synthesized sounds that appear to exist hauntingly physical,” alluding to the tension between creativity and materials that enters always into the musical imagination, the tension that Becker gets paid to negotiate on artists’ behalf. The physical “haunts” music, not as an antagonist as if all music were not physical at least in origin, but because of what is risked, what is lost, and what is made when music passes from one physical medium to another, as in the representation of the rapid movements of a trombone’s bell as bumps on a slab of vinyl. Where his first volume of Traditional Music was a bit more self-similar, built from the whirring of buglike tensions and releases, Becker’s second effort explores the glowing horror and breath of reanimation. With species even more personable and diverse than those of its far-out predecessor, Traditional Music of Notional Species Vol. II is nothing short of an event in electronic music. –Will Neibergall Traditional Music of Notional Species Vol. II (PAN 74) by Rashad BeckerTraditional Music of Notional Species Vol. II (PAN 74) by Rashad Becker --- We’ll See x Treece (Prod Hyro) Constructions Tape [SWMS/Self-Released] Drizzy Aubrey may be hip-hop’s new international playboy, assembling identities like a collector on safari, but the UK hip-hop and grime scene has been strong for a while now. We’ll See and Treece, along with lo-fi necromancer Hyro, present an alternative to the rude glitz of Skepta, a drowsy, dour romp through England’s South West and Manchester, tagging walls, popping pills, and trading deft, witty wordplay. There’s something theatrical, entrancing about the scenes on Constructions Tape, and they fade in and out of view like fragments from a VHS tape in a Buckfast bottle. Hyro is as much a character as the MCs — the beats on “SNES-CD” and “Krylon” are loose and minimal. “Rizla” is a stunning example of his sizzling, ambient lo-fi technique. The drugs are the same, the liquor is the same (the slang a little different). For those who find it hard to relate to life on the other side of the Atlantic, you can dig the lads’ antics in a tape-length music video, which explores the highways, fallow fields, and windy beaches of Britain. We’ll See and Treece are practically alone in the entire piece, ghosts in a glittering, unforgiving city. –Ross Devlin Constructions Tape by We'll See x Treece (Prod Hyro)Constructions Tape by We'll See x Treece (Prod Hyro) --- Jon Mueller dHrAaNwDn [Rhythmplex] Jon Mueller’s dHrAaNwDn is deep and resonant, each quadrant of the 2xLP package filling a distinct void. Mueller is adept at bending innovative recording techniques to fit his drum-offs, and this might be one of his most elaborate schemes. The excerpts found on the wax were captured by a full mobile studio at the historically cogent meeting house of the Shaker Historical Society in Albany, NY. And if you’ve ever been to Albany (as I have, a ton), you know there’s an odd artistic energy enveloping the overlooked city. Using the cavernous environment to its aural advantage, dHrAaNwDn sprawls its percussive attacks out evenly, the dank toms thumping, jumping, and bumping. It’s akin to those loooong rows of files I used to sleep amid when I worked at a complex housing warehouses full of legal files: orderly, sequential, and all-encompassing in its grandeur. dHrAaNwDn hits harder than a drone-out and more comprehensively than the huge push of air that accompanies an explosion, the sound waves bouncing rustically off the “wood and white walls” of the house. So much more to say, so little space; white vinyl, only 200 copies, no digital version, gorgeous artwork, Mueller exploring yet another avant avenue that no one thought to truss. –Grant ‘Gumshoe’ Purdum --- Amnesia Scanner AS Truth [Self-Released] AS Truth provides a severely ungrounded experience. Leitmotifs abound (water, club, shifter, voice, trepan), Amnesia Scanner build a dizzying piece that is colossally unfathomable yet pragmatically short — done before its working becomes cruel. Living in the tiny turns and rarely caring for much larger than that, AS Truth is the pregame and the function (the buzz and the twitch [the trepanation across the nation (the boogie and the drop) that burrs the hole] that feeds the demon) that wakes you up. I love this album, and OK, in case you’re wondering, I found this for you: this. I guess the surgeon is “actually a quack” but look at him, funny guy. Oh, and apparently this guy trepanned himself. Only later do we find out that ~no~ he didn’t. –Ben Levinson AS TRUTH (MIXTAPE) by Amnesia ScannerAS TRUTH (MIXTAPE) by Amnesia Scanner [pagebreak] --- LAMPGOD GOD SHIT EP [Self-Released] “Hey: what’s happening?” is the sound, and it’s me looking for the voice source. “How y’all doing?” (really though how am I doing?) and I can’t put my finger on it (can’t touch a sound, Frank, duh.) What’s means? Someone put some solid white lines between lanes (as if you could keep things separate, as if we all moved in one direction at a time), someone ripped up all the pavement (“‘cause I’m negative”), killed all the streetlamps (“and I’m dark”) some LAMPGOD blows up the means and throws up me. Cause when you wrap all the pavement ‘round your waste, you get GOD SHIT, the influence of ecstasy of ecstasy. Can’t touch a sound, and in this dark, I don’t want to not resolve: “We gotta help each other out, man, renourish the soil.” It’s soil or soul, this driving both ways. It’s GOD SHIT, the garbage divine, the that that’s happening. –Frank Falisi LAMPGOD - GOD SHIT EP by LAMPGODLAMPGOD - GOD SHIT EP by LAMPGOD --- Dale Cornish Cut Sleeve [Halcyon Veil] Room to think is never enough space as you’ve imagined. And Cut Sleeve is just extra for “t-shirt.” So breathe. So much area to cover. So here we have Dale Cornish satirizing modern house music. Beyond that, the Winnipeggian is using Cut Sleeve to comment on a variety of “scene” motifs that continue with the club-politics of Halcyon Veil (i.e., queer culture, auteur vanity, architectural ouroboros, etc.). Only this time, Dale Cornish provides a brooding outsider mentality, blending dark alley grime and abstract dancefloor narration, settling Cut Sleeve in light of summer nights partying in the park, in a ditch or pond, and never quite coming back into reality as before. Ever. –C Monster Cut Sleeve by Dale CornishCut Sleeve by Dale Cornish --- HIRS YØU CAN’T KILL US [Get Better] The pink and purple hue line-blocking the resistant and persisting declaration in bold white-as-day fuck-you lettering YØU CAN’T KILL US. Through the five-track, five-minute EP and 100+ shows through LGBTQIA spaces and hundreds of tracks, HIRS have made further ground down the chaff of their enemies and turned the opposition into dust under their boot. And though they’ve already released a split with LIFES in dedication to all their lost friends, TRANS GIRL TAKE OVER 2K17, and an underheard release called MAGICal/WANDerful (from which all money made goes directly to Morris Home), we keep dedicating our five minute breaks at work to it. It’s raw and fervent, tearing the stitches out from the seams of their oppressor and dividing it among the trans community, leaving a powerful, anxious, angry, passionate residue that we will never wash off. –Monet Maker YØU CAN'T KILL US by HIRSYØU CAN'T KILL US by HIRS --- Dedekind Cut The Expanding Domain [Self-Released] $uccessor’s scion in every way, The Expanding Domain is simply the planar enlargement of Dedekind Cut’s starkly heterogeneous sound. Chimerizing practically every experimental electronic form one can imagine, each track blooms from chill aestivation into confounding calyces of spiraling noise and hyaline synths. Likewise in ontogeny, The Expanding Domain maintains a perennial coiling and uncoiling, as the final cut, “Das Expanded, Untitled Riff,” gives way to the EP’s opening in “Cold Bloom.” His strength is in grafting his raging and rimose rhythms to the divaricate New Age and ambient sounds his newest project has embraced. Simultaneously serrate and undulate, his sonic palette (complemented by the likes of Elysia Crampton, Dominick Fernow, and Mica Levi) unnerves and calms. The static-wreathed stabs of “LiL Puffy Coat” float atop a ponderous plod and the crushing-crushed breaks of the title cut find balance from a languishing wash and a hint of melody. It feels complete and self-sustaining yet always groping outward toward more. A sonic inflorescence, The Expanding Domain is the further coil of the tendril, the greater spread of the rhizome, the deeper growth of the genet. –Cynocephalus "The Expanding Domain (ded005)" EP by Dedekind Cut,"The Expanding Domain (ded005)" EP by Dedekind Cut, --- Pinkcourtesyphone Talk The Pleasure Out of It [Champion Version] Minimalist and ambient music are the aural equivalent of abstract art. Maligned by the uninitiated for their perceived simplicity (read: boring, easy to cobble together) when in actual fact anyone who has ever tried to paint an abstract on canvas finds quite quickly how difficult it is to decide what to put where — or more specifically, what not to put almost everywhere. And therein lies the art. Pinkcourtesyphone is fast establishing a reputation as the Mondrian of music minimalism. With so few concepts and sounds throughout Talk the Pleasure Out of It, it’s breathtaking how much emotion and mood is packed into this all-too-brief EP from the opening bars. –Marty Slattery talk the pleasure out of it by PINKCOURTESYPHONEtalk the pleasure out of it by PINKCOURTESYPHONE --- Demdike Stare Wonderland [Modern Love] Demdike Stare’s first album since 2012, Wonderland produces prismatic color from a grayscale jungle, crosshatching inert beat blocks and blunt chords into tight, combative spaces in order to glimpse a few seconds of beautiful moiré. Between stark silences and loud silver smacks, loose atoms offer subtle signs of life, suggesting endless, complex revisions — small but seminal shifts into new structures, trickled off from the eroding monolith of “industrial” and fully escaped from the aesthetic trappings of “hauntology.” Fans of past records will recognize the esoteric sampling and tough breaks (especially if they’re fans of the Testpressing series), but the level of abstraction on display is newly inspired, with new rhythms and juxtapositions hinting at new modes of expression at every turn. At its core is a pure love of creation, boundless energy picking up inertia amid extreme restraint, transforming all the techno it touches. The humanity is there, but it’s hidden, in corners and in shadows, as still as can be, confident someone will eventually find it anyway. Stay active. –Adam Devlin http://j.mp/2o8xWPc

[torch-my-unrequited-dreams-blog]

During Heartbreaking Moments:

Hello, future Rina. This is written to a Rina after February 24, 2017 who might be feeling similar to what I am feeling now. You are probably feeling a sense of longing because you’re in love with Avi and you want him but you cannot have him, and it makes you hurt because you just don’t ever want him to leave. You’re probably thinking of all the amazing memories you have together and how there are plenty more good memories to make, and how easy it is to be around him and how he seems perfect for you. You want a future with him you’re not sure you’re ever going to get. And I’m here to write to you, in perfect clarity, that even though it doesn’t feel like it, because I’m questioning it now as I’m writing this, that everything is going to be okay. And I’m going to tell you why:

The first and most important reason is that in order to grow into the person you want to be, you have to endure this pain and get past it. You value freedom in your life, and this means freedom from the misery this attachment to him brings you. It’s freedom from being obligated or attached to anyone. You value being independent and focused on your goals instead of stressing over things that do not matter right now, like your relationship status. In order to become this whole, self-respecting, complete person you want to be, you have to let go of the hopes that he might take you back as his girlfriend or that you guys will reunite a few years of down and kill it- you have to make those dreams of yours irrelevant compared to the ones that you’re working to have. You read the book “Why Men Love Bitches,” and how every man loves a self-respecting woman with her own opinions and ideas and hobbies, and you need to become that woman, not because that’s what he wants, but because that’s the woman you dream of becoming. Hold on to that image of you standing on top of a mountain feeling completely free from the world’s troubles. It’s these kind of images of a free, independent, fun-loving woman that should be your hope for the future, not for the sweet but rather bland-in-comparison image of being in his arms, completely his, again. I know that image in your mind resonates with you a little more strongly because the other one seems rather far away from you right now, but that type of mental clarity and happiness can come to you a lot sooner than you think. Focus yourself on getting there. That’s more important and frankly more realistic than the idea of returning to a relationship with him anyway. 

Secondly, know that the way your relationship right now is exactly the way you REALLY want it. Even though it doesn’t feel like it right now, you LIKE having space to breathe and be your own person and it feels relieving to finally be able to take care of yourself, which you should be fully doing. We get along better this way and when you’re not upset, you feel genuinely happier. He’s not completely gone from you either: we still give each other love and sex and affection and he’s still your best friend and in your life to keep you company. He’s never too far away from you and fully discloses to you things that happen in his own life, so you’re never really out of the loop. Even when this type of relationship between you two eventually ends, it’ll be okay because he’ll still never really be fully gone. Your friendship is a trillion times more powerful and meaningful to you than your relationship, and his friendship is the very aspect of this relationship which adds meaningfully to your life. You have recently learned what it is like to love him without any attachment, and you know there’s a part of you underneath all the ego that will always love him like that. Tap into that pure love more and more, because that’s the type of love he deserves. Don’t forget that he’s suffering too, and seeing you vulnerable and suffer doesn’t make things better for him/ Don’t forget that he’s trying really hard to grow as a person as well, and if you took him back for yourself, he would never get that opportunity, and that you WANT that for him. Don’t forget that he loves you and wants you to live at your full potential, and you don’t want to disappoint him. Don't forget that he's planning to have an 80 hour work week when he starts a business and if you choose to go to grad school, you'll be just as swamped, so a future between you two in the near future wouldn't even work out for logistic reasons. Don't forget that the love between you two is important and special and unique, and that will never change. 

When I come up with more revelations that make me feel better, I’ll add it to this post. Every single time I get through these emotions and let go of my attachments, it will become easier. Time heals everything, and this will always get better and better and so will I. Everything is going to be okay. It’s okay to crash, just let yourself get back up. 

[markwatkinsconsumerguide]

Consumer Guide / No.40 /   Maggie K de Monde (Swans Way & Scarlet Fantastic) with Mark Watkins.

MW: Maggie, you wrote your first song - “Gloriana” - aged 14. Can you recall the first two lines? What's the story behind it?

MKDM : Mark, the first two lines were : “ Mrs Moffat’s done a bunk, the barbs she ate made her a punk. She flies higher, cooler higher, in her automatic Hotpoint spin drier.”

“Gloriana” is an imaginary state of grace/imaginary place where everything is calm and full of love, and there is no suffering, and everything and everyone is in perfect harmony. A Utopian fantasy. I think I was very influenced by the TV show Rock Follies at the time!

MW: How did Swans Way, then Scarlet Fantastic, come about?

MKDM: I met Rick P Jones at Kent uni where I was studying French and Drama. Rick was a guitarist. We formed our first band Playthings, and then we met Robert Shaw and decided to do something completely different - which to us, meant ditching our original instruments and starting afresh on something new. Hence me playing the drums!! We read a lot, and watched a lot of old '50s movies, and listened to many soundtracks (French and Italian). We were looking for some different influences. Marcel Proust wrote a novel, “Swann’s Way”. I think we may have chosen our name as a nod to this, although we spelt our name differently, as we didn’t want people to think that we were all about the book.

After the release of a critically acclaimed album, The Fugitive Kind, Rick and I became restless, and decided we wanted to take a different musical direction. We weren’t inspired by Swans Way any more. We bought our own studio gear and Rick learned to programme drum machines and synths etc and we came up with a glam/pop/electro/ kind of sound which seemed quite unique to us at the time. We were into larger than life imagery and big slogans: - “Energy Breeds Energy” , “Deconstruct the bad vibes” and many more. I think we felt we were on a bit of a mission, we were very much into the idea of spreading peace and love! We used to describe our sound and imagery as a mix of the REAL the SURREAL and the FANTASTIC. We needed a name that encompassed all this so we chose Scarlet Fantastic! Rick used to make a joke and say it was the colour of my lipstick!

MW: How did Swans Way and Scarlet Fantastic compare and contrast?

MKDM: I think there were similarities in the sense that we were out on our own, doing our own thing, writing songs from the heart, but sound wise there were definite differences as Swans Way had a very organic sound and Scarlet Fantastic was more electro. Lyrics were a very important part of both projects.

MW: Tell me about Duran Duran...

MKDM: Rick and I were in our first band Playthings before Swans Way. Duran Duran used to say that we were the other best band in Birmingham apart from themselves. Birmingham back in the '80s was a very close knit scene, everyone knew everyone. We toured with Duran Duran as they had their first hit “Planet Earth”. I was with Simon sound checking for a gig at Aston Uni when they received the news that “Planet Earth” had charted. Simon was a big, friendly, bouncy ex-drama student, always the flirt too!! Jon Taylor was the one who was always perceived as the cool one (I guess he was initially a little shy). My mum had a cup of tea with him once and said: “what a lovely boy he is!” . Nick Rhodes was the one who people would sometimes say had a tendency to be somewhat of a poseur, but I think he was genuinely into quite diverse and left field art projects etc. Andy Taylor the guitarist was the most down to earth, a salt of the earth Northern lad and Roger Taylor the drummer just always looked incredibly cool!!

MW: …careless memories of BBC Radio 1?

MKDM: I used to love doing Radio one sessions, going to the big studios in Maida Vale and then getting all excited when the sessions would air. Swans Way played live several times on Radio One sessions but I can’t remember whose show we were on. Janice Long was a great supporter of ours along with her producer Mike Hawkes.

MW: ...TV appearances?

MKDM: I think Top Of The Pops and The Tube were always my faves. Both shows were iconic for their time. I miss them both, and sadly there seems nothing like them today. The Tube made several really interesting films of Swans Way and Scarlet Fantastic ; it’s so great that those time were captured on celluloid and can now be see on YouTube all these years on!

MW: Maggie, tell me about your new album Reverie...

MKDM : Well Mark, I called my new album Reverie as I felt the word describes the sound. Reverie is released on Dirtbag Baby Records and it’s distributed by Right Track through Universal. It’s a gentle, dreamy alt-folk album. A journalist recently described it as ethereal folk. It’s a very song based album. I wanted the emphasis to be on my voice and my words. I had an idea for the overall sound and it was a joy to work with my husband and musical partner on it, Mark Leif Kahal, he produced it and played most of the instruments on it too. We really went for clarity and an uncluttered sound. The songs were very much influenced by dreams and nature. There are many similar themes to the original Scarlet Fantastic from 30 years ago but the sound on this new album is very different. It’s more in keeping with my previous album Union which was by Maggie and Martin, a collaboration I did with Marc Almond’s keyboard player.

MW: OK, let’s talk books...

MKDM: The most recent book I read was written by my friend Clayton Littlewood, “Dirty White Boy”. It’s about a shop he had on Old Compton St., and the daily goings on with all the Soho locals. It’s hysterical. It’s a real fun read and it’s in a diary form as Clayton started off by blogging but ended up turning it into a novel. I love his observations of people and places, he’s so insightful and so funny!

My next read will be a re-read, “Tender is the night”, by Scott Fitzgerald. It’s been on my mind often lately and definitely needs a revisit. I love the time it’s set in and I’ve been enjoying a lot of artists from this period recently too. I have also just bought “Testimony” by Robbie Robertson; I can’t wait to to get tucked into this! I’m a huge fan of his and the whole period with all his contemporaries, some legends. It’s meant to be a brilliant book.

MW: Which newspapers can’t you live without?

MKDM: I read The Guardian and The London Evening Standard. Simon Jenkins is one of my favourite journalists. On world news, I’m a big Christiane Amanpour fan.

MW: What are the best and worst aspects of social media?

MKDM: The best aspects are being able to spread the news about my work and to connect and reconnect with people/old friends/new friends/like minded people etc. I enjoy learning about new projects and hearing reactions to world situations etc. I feel the whole “community” aspect of it can be a positive thing. The worst aspects are the cruelty and bullying that can occur, especially amongst teens. I think people can also waste way too much time on social media and forget about/neglect real life. I do know that it does help socially isolated people and lonely people which is a very positive thing.

MW: List your Top 10 favourite EIGHTIES albums...

MKDM:

1 Joshua Tree - U2 (1987) 2 This is The Sea - Waterboys (1985) 3 Faith - George Michael (1987) 4 Kick - INXS (1987) 5 Purple Rain - Prince (1984) 6 Let’s Dance - Bowie (1983) 7 Sign o’ the Times - Prince (1987) 8 The Lion and the Cobra - Sinead O'Connor (1987) 9 Fisherman's Blues - The Waterboys (1988) 10 Hounds of Love - Kate Bush (1985)

Each album I’ve listed here reminds me of a very specific time in my life and a very specific feeling evoked when listening to the music. My life’s journey has been accompanied by some very poignant soundtracks. I spent a very special time in South Africa with my father before relocating to Dublin which was full of magic. Throughout my African experience then onto my Dublin experience, before, during and after, The Joshua Tree held a very special kind of magic for me as did the top 5 albums I’ve listed, all of them in fact! Very hard trying to pick the favourite. All sensational and played an important part in my life, helped me through a few things and celebrated with me too!

MW: Which BOWIE song is your favourite? How did you feel on hearing the sad news of his death?

MKDM: Mark - I was devastated when I heard of his death. It’s so difficult trying to pick one favourite song, I have many but one which never fails to move me is “Wild is the Wind”.

MW: You live in Eastbourne. What do you enjoy doing along the South Coast?

MKDM: I love the nature here. I walk and cycle often and spend a lot of time by the sea. I’m enjoying painting again. We have a fantastic modern art museum here, affiliated with the Tate, so I’m often there. We have some great record shops and cafes and some amazing restaurants too (I’m a real foodie!!). I often hop over to St. Leonards, Hastings or Brighton. London isn’t far either. I travel a lot around the South East as there is always a lots going on. Music, art shows etc. I have my own studio so I record a lot of stuff here too.

MW: … plans for 2017?

MKDM: I have a song “Heartbreak House” on Hifi Sean’s album Hifi Sean Ft. The video for the song will be released shortly. I filmed it in St Leonards, it’s turned out to be a rather neo-Gothic affair! Sean is ex-Soup Dragons, his album is doing very well, his track with Crystal Waters has just gone into the Top 40. There are some interesting artists on the album, Yoko Ono, Fred B52’s, David Mc Almont and many many more. As well as being a part of that I’m writing new material and I’m also painting a series of still lifes in oils. You can keep up with me on my Facebook musician pages, Maggie K de Monde, Scarlet Fantastic and Swans Way. There is also a website www.scarlet-fantastic.co.uk

© Mark Watkins / February 2017