#i’ve felt very stagnant since graduation

[peachyoctober]

saving to move and apartment hunting sucks but i’m really excited about having my own space bc i really hope to fall into a routine and get back into things i use to enjoy and even allow myself to try new things and hopefully meet new people

[kaitlynpcallmebeepme]

The Unexpected Hero

The Unexpected Hero

Evan Buckley x reader

Imagine: saving Buck (911) from and explosion and he's determined to find out who you are (from @procrastinatorimagines​).

Requested: Nope.  

Author’s Note:  I’ve been wanting to write this ever since I saw this prompt image.  Also (writing this on 7/12/22), My legs are dead after drumline camp, so I continued writing this on my night shift. Please give me feedback as this is my first time writing for 911.  Was considering asking someone if they want to proof read just to make sure the content is good. Message me if anyone want to.  I also reworked my masterlist so it’s not as crowded.  

Requests are still OPEN.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new.  Also, I’m tagging @911readercollection​ here.

Warning: I’m not sure fire works how I exactly described it.  Arsonist, bomb exploder/explodes, chase scene, arrests, I very much thought of old action movies when writing this.  I didn’t proofread this.  Athena being a queen. 

Word Count: 1,854

It was another mind numbing day of staring at your computer as statistics went by so you could crunch the numbers for your penny pincher stick up his ass boss.  And just to describe how frugal he is, he chose the cheapest office for his workers while he never showed up himself.  Cheap in LA usually means poor quality, or not in a safe neighborhood.  In this case, it meant both.  You had to bring your own stool because you could not stand one more second of your legs sticking to those cheap plastic chairs that are “usually” used at graduation parties.  At least you were left alone until you had to present your findings to your boss.  However, this meant that your mind got distracted easily and sometimes fell asleep until your eyes and mind processed nothing that was on your screen.   

Your mind woke up out of its stagnant state to that sound. You know, that sound.  The sound that’s been drilled into your mind ever since you were young.  The sound of a fire alarm going off along with its blinking lights.  You were surprised the building even had working fire systems.  But, you did what you were taught and you stayed low to the ground and crawled on your hands and knees keeping your hand along the wall to guide your way.  You found your way to the side of the building out a fire exit.  One of those exits near the trucking docks of your building.  You stopped a mere couple feet from the building to catch your breath, which more ended up like you crouched to cough your lungs out.  This is what you imagined smoking for 50 years felt like.  

You looked up just as a firefighter started coming towards you.  Do all firefighters have to imitate magazines and be super hot in uniform and way out of your league?  He still had his smoke mask over his face and his helmet on, as he should , so you couldn’t make out much of what he actually looked like.   “Ma’am, are you okay?”  

You would have responded if something else didn’t catch your attention.  Behind the fireman’s legs, you could see someone else in a gray hoodie walking away from the scene.  Walking.  As in “cool guys don’t look at explosions” walking, and that kind of walking away from a fire can never be good.  He started to raise his right hand above his head while keeping his back turned toward you and STILL WALKING.   You couldn’t be sure what he was doing or what is intentions are, but you had to take a chance.  

With your strength that you found somewhere, you body slammed the fireman in the hips as hard as you could and that managed to get him, and yourself, to the ground.  His arms encircled around you, out of instinct you think, and you were buried into his firejacket while his back took most of the brute hit from the ground.  The office building behind you exploded like an action movie and you felt the heat from the building behind you multiply by 1000 and a loud noise ring your ears to the point where you could only hear white noise for a second.  

You hesitantly opened your eyes expecting ash to sting them or you see the light of heaven letting you know that you died.  Thankfully, you were still mostly in one piece, but the sight of the person you suspected was responsible running from said exploding building was the first thing you saw while lying on the ground.  This isn’t an action movie, but you couldn’t convince your brain that it wasn’t.  

You got up from the ground and started sprinting after the man, your body and lungs screaming at you to stop and rest, but your adrenaline said ‘no’.  You kept following the man around a few corners, not even stopping to think if he was armed or not when a cop car came from an alley and hit him T-bone style.  It didn’t kill him, but it flung him a few feet in the opposite direction.  He definitely wouldn’t be resisting arrest anytime soon.  

“Hands on your head.” you heard shout in front of you.  You kept yours on the back of your head just so the cop would know you weren’t putting up a fight.  

You took this opportunity to cough your lungs out in the middle of an alley because they were exhausted from being filled with smoke and then asked to run a marathon.  

The cop was quick to cuff the man and lock him in the back of her squad car.  She then came around and stood next to your hunched over figure.  “Just try to breath deeply mame.”  After a few more minutes of coughing your lungs out you finally had the strength to look up at her.  Your eyes were watered and probably red from the smoke, but you could still make out most of what she looked like.  She was a middle aged black woman and had short black hair that swooped to one side.  She still was in her full uniform and a bullet proof vest.  

“Did you get him?”  Why was that the first thing you asked? No thank you, just that?  

“Yes mame, we did.  Your speed and quick thinking guided him right to us.  What were you doing chasing a man like him anyway?”  

You struggled to stand up, but you were able to keep some of your decency before you spoke to her.  “I saw him walking away from my office building that exploded, and no one runs unless they have something to hide, so I just mindlessly chased after him.  I chased him and you T-boned him.  Problem solved.”  You clapped your hands brushing the dust off them like you did a job well done.  

“You were in the building five blocks from here that exploded into flames?”  Have I really been running for five blocks?  Wow.  Might as well act as if you run regularly.   

“Yes, and if the fire inspection comes to it, can I testify against my boss? He’s a frugal piece of shit, so I doubt that the building was up to code.”  She seemed to give me a satisfied smirk.  

“Ok.  I like a strong independent women who knows what she wants.  Come with me and I’ll give you a ride to the station and get a statement from you.”  

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Athena, and if you ever want to be a cop or detective, I’ll put in a referral for you to get started into the training.  We’d love to have you.”  

So that’s how your day ended.  Athena drove you and her suspect to the police station, you gave a statement of what happened and how bad the building you worked in was.  You left your contact information incase they needed anything else or they wanted you for the detective job.  She even gave you a ride back to your, surprisingly, not destroyed car that was parked outside of your office building.  

________________________________________________________________

**Buck’s POV, later that day at station 118**

I walked back up the stairs after a shower to find most of the team in the kitchen.  Bobby was making something that smelled delicious for dinner.  I still couldn’t wrap my head around what happened earlier.  

“Hey Hen, did some lady come to the ambulance at the fire of that warehouse office building today?” I sat down at the kitchen table next to her.  

“We had a couple people there today but no one needed to go to the hospital, just needed some extra oxygen. Why, you recognize someone?” 

“No it’s just…”  Do I say that the muscles of a fireman lost against someone’s adrenaline.  I decide to leave that part out.  “Just someone was running away from the fire and after someone and I just wanted to make sure they’re ok.  I couldn’t find them afterwards.”

“Hey everyone.”  Athena walked up the stairs to the kitchen area and greeted everyone.  

“Hey Athena.”  I didn’t put too much enthusiasm into my greeting.  She went and kissed Bobby really quick and came back to me.  “Why you so down Buck?” 

“He’s trying to find someone who ran off from the fire today.”  Hen answered for me.  

“You mean the one that body slammed you before the building blew up.” 

Well, thanks for saving me the embarrassment Bobby.  I gave him that you seriously just said that look that he’s probably given me a million times.  

“Yes, that one.  She just ran off after body slamming me and it wasn’t a reactionary thing she did it BEFORE the building blew up, like right before.”  Athena gave me a knowingly smile apparently knowing something that I didn’t.  

“Oh yes, I know who she is.  She’s real sweet.  Caught our bomber, gave a statement about what she witness, and was willing to testify.”  She was saying this like it was no deal as easy as asking what you had for breakfast that morning.  

“You know her.  I wanted to see if I could thank her because she helped me avoid getting a face full of flames.”  

“Well, I still have her number.  But Buck …”

“Yes.” Athena always has something up her sleeve. 

“Treat her right.  She talked about the building she worked in.  She deserves something good.” 

“Yes mame.”  That wasn’t even my intention, but Buck 3.0 is the most respectful out of all the Bucks.    

Athena gave me her number and I went to one of the fire department office rooms where it was more quiet and less people would come in to interrupt or tease me for wanting to talk to a girl I barely met.  I type in her number and wait while the ringtones go by.  Then there’s that unfortunate monotone voice of an answering machine.  I decide to leave a message anyway.  

“Hey Y/n, it’s Buck.  Well you don’t know my name yet but I’m the firefighter you slammed earlier today.  Athena, the cop, gave me your number.  I just wanted to thank you for saving me.  You were really brave I heard, chasing down an armed aronsist.  **Hurry up Buck, you have limited voicemail space** I just wanted to thank you and see if you wanted to go out sometime … so I can properly thank you in person I mean.  Well I-.”  The call hung me up.  Hope that got saved.  

I decided to take a walk around the trucks and clear my head.  Before I made even one lap around, I got a text.  

Hey Buck.  Nice to finally know your name.  Hope I didn’t hurt you too bad from the body slam earlier.  My phone’s out of whack and not accepting calls since it got cracked in my street chase today, but I’d love to go to cheesecake factory with you sometime, or even just walking on the boardwalk.  You text me your availability, since I’m out of a job for now. Hehe. -Y/n

Ok Buck, don't mess this up.

[unladielike]

( some ooc introspection underneath the cut that you aren’t required to read. i just had a lot of thoughts about myself lately, and while it’s a personal recounting with a happy ending, it does contain mentions of mental health issues, autistic suffering, suicidal thoughts, and escapism, so i would suggest not reading it if you’re sensitive to that sorta stuff: )

Looking back, I think the reason I never really enjoyed sharing details about my personal life was because as an autistic woman, I felt inept. Honestly, compared to my highschool years where I had peaked and excelled, I remember I just... struggled as soon as I entered college, to the point where I eventually had to drop out, if only because the coursework was way too difficult for me and I couldn’t keep up with it.

To me, it really was as though everyone else seemed to have no issues, moving on with their lives and graduating, while I was stuck in one place... failing to be productive. Why, at one point, I even fell into a state of depression, that even thinking about my future or being asked about what I planned to do with the rest of my life gave me intense anxiety. Seriously, every time my older sister asked about my plans, it would subsequently trigger me... that was how avoidant I was when it came to myself.

To that end, I did not like to talk about how I was essentially an unemployed shut-in who only went out to walk my dog, and how everyday, I struggled to hold onto a reason to stay alive upon thinking of myself as a disgrace; in fact, unlike certain people, trauma-dumping is not something I particularly enjoy, so for the longest period of time, roleplay was my form of escapism.

It’s why when I found myself in a friend group, I only ever talked about roleplay-centric stuff around them. Whereas they were eventually burned out from tumblr roleplay, I kept hyperfixating over ships/muses and infodumping on that one specific niche fandom rather than branching out into newer ones. Meanwhile, they would occasionally bring up real life stuff and air out their personal grievances with the people in their lives, which is something I could never bring myself to do, because I didn’t want to be known like that... therefore, I never wanted to talk about anything else besides my special interests.

Either way, due to how alone I was, I ended up becoming very traumatized when they stopped replying to me, both IC and OOC. Of course, I know now it was unhealthy to latch onto roleplay partners the way I did, but in my defence, I was mentally... very fragile, to the point where the RPC was my only refuge from real life back then. Honestly, now that I think about it, this avoidance of reality was probably why The Caligula Effect is a series that still strongly resonates with me to this day and has a very special place inside my heart.

Regardless, it took me being dropped by this friend group for me to finally decide I no longer want to spend all my free time, devoting myself to tumblr roleplay... that somewhere along the way, I ended up getting a job, after years of remaining stagnant. Of course, there are times where I still bemoan having to work, but all in all, I think I’m better off for it, especially since nowadays, I don’t even think about wanting to kill myself. Heck, I’m actually thriving at my job, which is something I never expected.

...At the same time, though, the lack of communication and ableism I experienced from the RPC made me less willing to open up and make new friends, because I’ve already been hurt way too many times and as a result, lack the desire to talk to many people.

[bndz]

(normani kordei, twenty-two, cisfemale, she/her) * hey, i’m looking for the office of adrianna king. they’re the intern who’s known around the office as the airhead, if that helps? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re humorous but talkative, is that true? i also heard that they’re the one who brought her pet fish to work. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

&  i’m  back  at  it  again  with  another  character  !  it  me  ,  tay  !  i  have  another  child  &  her  name  is  adri  .  she’s  my  bubbly  little  baby  &  i  love  her  chatty  ass  down  !  i  have  some  points  about  her  below  &  i  am  so  excited  that  i  got  to  bring  her  here  .  tw  :  religion  ,  homophobia  ,  toxic  parents  &  mentions  of  physical  violence  .

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔  !

NAME   :    adrianna  king  . NICKNAMES  :  adri  . GENDER   :   cisfemale  . PRONOUNS   :   she  /  her  /  hers  . AGE   :   twenty-two  (  22  ) BIRTHDAY   :   23  september  . ZODIAC   :   libra  . HOMETOWN  :  miami  ,  florida  . CURRENT  RESIDENCE  : new york city  , new york  . ETHNICITY   :   african-american  . SEXUAL ORIENTATION   :   bisexual  . OCCUPATION  :   intern  .  (  the  art  department  ,  but  more  so  visual  art  )

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅  !

FAMILY   :  born  &  raised  in  the  city  of  miami  ,  adri  grew  up  in  a  household  that  was  highly  religious  .  her  family  was  heavily  involved  in  the  church  with  her  mother  also  being  a  pastor  herself  .  because  of  this  ,  her  parents  were  very  strict  &  super  controlling  .  they  monitored  almost  everything  surrounding  adri  since  she  was  their  only  child  ,  trying  to  prevent  anything  they  deemed  negative  &  wrong  to  consume  their  daughter  .  

this  caused  for  adri  to  at  first  obey  them  because  she  was  a  child  ,  but  as  she  reached  her  teenage  years  she  saw  how  toxic  her  parents  could  actually  be  .  they  were  the  definition  of  religious  hover  parents  &  it  was  slowly  starting  to  cause  adri  to  resent  them  .  they  would  spend  hours  lecturing  her  if  she  wore  something  they  thought  was  inappropriate  .  they  would  call  her  names  &  say  she  was  being  fast  for  her  age  .  they  would  tell  her  she  was  going  to  go  to  hell  if  she  didn’t  listen  to  the  word  of  god  .  

it  all  came  to  blows  when  adri  was  figuring  out  her  sexuality  .  all  her  life  she  was  told  that  liking  the  same  sex  was  wrong  ,  but  she  was  having  feelings  for  the  same  sex  .  at  first  she  felt  internalized  homophobia  ,  but  as  she  started  to  grow  into  her  own  person  &  renounce  the  teachings  that  were  drilling  into  her  head  ,  she  started  to  accept  herself  .  she  knew  that  her  parents  were  going  to  condemn  her  ,  so  she  didn’t  ever  plan  on  coming  out  until  she  moved  out  .  sadly  ,  her  father  did  a  random  check  of  her  phone  &  found  texts  that  she  didn’t  delete  to  a  girl  she  was  dating  at  the  time  .  it  was  literally  a  shit  show  in  the  king  household  .  slaps  &  many  sessions  of  trying  to  pray  the  gay  away  later  ,  adri  had  to  pretend  as  though  she  was  not  bisexual  .  she  had  to  break  up  with  her  girlfriend  &  was  removed  from  public  school  to  be  home  schooled  at  sixteen  .   to  say  she  hated  her  parents  was  an  understatement  .  

as  the  years  went  on  ,  adrianna  was  counting  down  the  days  until  she  could  be  off  to  college  .  during  her  senior  year  she  applied  to  the  furthest  schools  from  miami  .  she  had  to  beg  her  parents  to  let  her  attend  an  out  of  state  college  ,  but  because  her  act  at  home  was  convincing  ,  they  allowed  her  to  stay  with  her  aunt  in  new  york  to  attend  college  .  they  were  still  going  to  be  as  controlling  as  ever  ,  but  it  was  a  step  closer  towards  freedom  .

SCHOOL   :  adrianna  attended  hofstra  university  &  majored  in  art  .  while  she  was  in  grade  school  ,  adrianna  gravitated  towards  painting  because  it  was  the  best  way  for  her  to  get  what  she  was  feeling  out  .  attending  college  was  the  best  thing  for  her  .  although  her  aunt  was  as  strict  &  religious  as  her  parents  ,  she  used  college  as  a  way  to  wild  out  .  she  was  sneaking  out  easier  because  her  aunt  worked  overnight  shifts  as  an  rn  .  she  was  enjoying  the  ounce  of  freedom  that  she  had  even  if  her  family  was  on  her  neck  24  /  7  .  she  had  a  lot  of  pressure  to  graduate  &  get  a  job  ,  so  that  she  could  live  on  her  own  &  she  knew  that  the  arts  wasn’t  the  best  major  to  find  a  joke  as  quickly  as  she  wanted  .  but  graduation  came  quick  &  adri  was  literally  scrambling  .

MASTER’S  :  after  college  ,  adri  was  literally  running  all  over  nyc  trying  to  look  for  a  job  .  it  took  her  months  to  finally  land  a  job  interview  at  master’s  &  she  honestly  thought  she  flopped  .  when  she  got  the  position  as  an  intern  she  was  literally  over  the  moon  .  she  absolutely  loves  working  at  master’s  &  she’s  hoping  she  can  move  up  the  ranks  .  being  that  she’s  new  at  the  position  ,  she’s  trying  her  best  to  fit  in  &  get  things  done  in  a  timely  manner  .  she  does  struggle  a  bit  because  it’s  her  first  big  girl  job  ,  but  she’s  working  on  it  day  by  day  .

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚  !

BUBBLY   :  you  could  easily  describe  her  as  someone  that  lights  up  the  room  with  her  smile  alone  .  adrianna  is  super  cheerful  &  very  positive  majority  of  the  time  .  she  has  a  hint  of  pep  in  her  voice  that  almost  sounds  like  she  talks  with  a  smile  &  she  usually  does  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  &  interact  with  others  .

FLIRTATIOUS  :  due  to  her  personality  ,  adrianna  is  naturally  friendly  &  flirtatious  .  she  will  flirt  with  ya  boo  &  it  won’t  even  be  intentional.  that’s  just  who  she  is  .  some  may  call  her  a  thottie  because  she  does  live  her  best  hot  girl  life  ,  but  she  truly  does  not  care  .  she  does  what  she  wants  because  she’s  poppin’  !  (  see connections  for  some  mess  surrounding  this  trait  )

TALKATIVE   :  honestly  ,  she  will  never  shut  up.  she  talks  very  fast  &  says  a  lot  &  it  can  also  be  alot  .  she  just  loves  to  talk  y’all  .  she  will  talk  anybody’s  ear  off  who  will  listen  .  she  can’t  help  it  .

DITZY   :   def’  has  her  moments  where  she’s  super  lost  .  it  takes  her  a  few  seconds  to  understand  jokes  sometimes  &  can  def’  lose  her  train  of  thought  as  well  .  she  can  be  a  little  dumb  ,  but  she’s  just  all  over  the  place  .  somebody  help  her  ,  please  ! 

in  general  she’s  like  a  bimbo  ,  but  not  to  the  worst  degree  .  she’s  v  aware  &  just  has  her  moments  .  she  doesn’t  like  when  people  try  to  be  condescending  towards  her  because  of  her  personality  ,  so  she  can  get  a  little  defensive  &  snappy  when  pushed  to  that  degree  .  it  takes  her  a  lot  to  snap  ,  so  i  doubt  she  will  be  popping  off  unless  she  is  truly  offended  .  she’s  also  not  that  confrontational  ,  but  if  she  has  to  defend  herself  ,  she  will  .  (  she  lowkey  can  get  creative  tbh  )  she’s  just  here  to  befriend  people  ,  okay  !

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔  !

001  .  enemies  .  i  feel  like  because  she’s  genuinely  nice  it  would  have  to  be  a  huge  reason  for  her  to  dislike  someone  .  so  ,  pick  your  poison  . 002  .  friends  with  benefits  .  we  always  love  these  ,  don’t  we  ?  she’s  with  all  the  shits  ,  okay  .  head  hot  girl  at  your  service  ! 003  .  exes  .  not  to  be  that  garbage  bag  ,  but  i’m  pretty  positive  adrianna  probably  cheated  on  all  of  her  exes  due  to  boredom  .  she  is  someone  that  needs  change  in  her  life  bc  of  how  she  was  treated  at  home  .  if  she  feels  stagnant  ,  she  will  just  pull  some  bs  like  cheating  &  move  on  to  the  next  .  truly  her  biggest  flaw  &  someone  gotta  smite  her  ass  for  this  fr  ! 004  .  besties  .  someone  give  her  a  baddie  bff  pls  ! 005  .  a  work  boo  .  v  self  explanatory  . 006  .  a  muse  .  since  adri  likes  to  paint  ,  this  could  be  someone  that inspires  her  artwork  or  even  let’s  her  paint  them  on  occasion  . again  ,  i  am  terrible  at  thinking  of  connections  ,  so  i’m  down  for  all  the  plots  !

𝒇𝒖𝒏  𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒔  !

001  .  she  is  type  one  diabetic  . 002  .  is  a  huge  bad  bunny  stan  . 003  .  a  bratz  doll  collector  . 004  .  is  into  art  &  loves  to  paint  . 005  .  her  guilty  pleasure  is  watching  bad  girls  club  . 

[madmaddoxfuryroad]

HSMTMTS: Season 3 thoughts

So I’ve been ruminating a lot about this show today (like every other day) and I got to thinking about what they might do for season 3. Less so plot-wise (I mean season 2 is just over halfway through), but more about what musical they might do, what the cast might be, and how that could tie into the individual characters and their arcs (some more so than others, but c’est la vie).

In trying to figure out what musical they might do, I started first with the obvious: what does Disney own? I don’t think they would return to the HSM franchise (until the final season, but thoughts on that for another day), so anything related to that and other DCOMs I counted out. I also eliminated all Disney animated/princess films. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but seeing as this season they are doing BATB, I don’t think they would immediately go into another animated-film-adapted-for-broadway right after that. So at that point I wasn’t quite sure where to go. Mary Poppins was really the only other thing that came to mind and while I love the film and broadway show I just don’t think it fits the cast well slash even has enough parts to really showcase them. You have Mary and Bert. And then I guess Mr. and Mrs. Banks? Then the kids are a whole other issue. It just felt messy. So I just started thinking about broadway shows that I like, I mean if they wanted to, Disney has the money and could pay for the rights to use most shows. Then everything fell into place.

Into the Woods. I am 100% positive I am letting my bias for this show cloud my judgement, but if you stick with me, I think I can persuade you (or not, your mind is your own and I respect that). First off, Disney owns it. At least I think they do. They made the movie (RIP), so I am going to safely assume they have the rights at this point. Next, yes it contains fairytale elements, which might make you feel it’s a little too close to BATB, but it is such a deconstruction of fairytales and their tropes that I almost feel like it is an amazing follow up to a more traditional fairytale. It introduces conflict and the real world into these fantasy scenarios, which I feel goes really well with high school in general and growing up, expectations being shattered, and learning to alter your world view (I really love this play). Plus, I think it would be exciting to see this cast do a more broadway-type show. Obviously BATB is a broadway show, but I think there is a lot of reliance on knowing the film and less on the play itself. And not going to lie after Julia Lester’s rendition of “Home” last week (which I have not STOPPED listening to) it would be amazing to hear these teens tackle more broadway-style music. Which, takes me to my final point: the cast. What I love so much about Into the Woods is how it is very much an ensemble cast. Yes some roles are bigger than others, but if you have a named character, odds are it’s a fairly good role. And the whole HSMTMTS cast is so talented, I like the idea of them picking a show where it does not feel like anyone is sidelined with their part. Now the only thing left to do is cast it…

FULL disclosure. I ran into an issue early on that I ended up thinking Ashlyn was perfect for every female role and Seb was perfect for every male role. But I was eventually able to push through and cast it (in my humble opinion) pretty well. So I am just going to go off in the order that I cast them, because I think it will help explain my thought process.

THE CAST

Cinderella - Nini. Once I got over my need to hear Julia/Ashlyn sing “No One Is Alone” (loophole to this coming later), this felt like a pretty natural fit and was one of the easiest to cast. For one, I just think Olivia’s vocal range pairs very well with Cinderella’s and she could do beautifully with her songs like “On the Steps Of The Palace”. But what really got me was the way she parallels the character so perfectly. Cinderella is a character who always dreams of more but isn’t quite sure what that “more” is. And because she isn’t *quite* sure what she wants, the character is often seen grappling with indecision (see: “On The Steps Of The Palace”). Most of Act I is her being stagnant and letting the Prince take the active role. Finally in Act II she starts to get a better sense of who she is, who she wants to be, and what she doesn’t want. So this felt like it tied in really nicely with Nini’s journey and would be a great role for her, especially when…

Cinderella’s Prince - Ricky. Yes, yes I know. Ricky and Nini playing love interests? Groundbreaking. But stay with me. For one, I just like the idea of Ricky not getting the lead male role, and this part is perfect for him, regardless. The whole relationship between Cinderella and her Prince mirrors Nini and Ricky remarkably well. The way the Prince sees Cinderella as this perfect maiden who, if he could just be with her, would be the only thing he would ever want/need. But of course this isn’t realistic and isn’t how relationships work, which they both come to terms with by the end of Act II. Their break-up/parting ways scene might be my favorite in the entire play and I think it would be so great for Ricky and Nini to get to perform. In part because the conclusion of the scene is basically them both admitting that they will always love the idea of the other, even though they don’t actually work as a couple. (**I am operating on the assumption that they will have broken up in season 2 and are still broken up, but never really dealt with it). Honestly I recommend just watching the scene I will link it here (it goes from about 2:12:35-2:15:00). Plus, I could totally see there being an episode where they are trying to rehearse this scene, but it just isn’t working so Miss Jenn has both of them improv it or rewrite the lines to something that might feel more comfortable or personal. And I just see that being a really beautiful moment for the two and a chance for growth and closure. I could go on about this dynamic, but I will move on to my final point: “Agony”. First, while it is mostly a comedic song, you can take just the first verse of the song and recontextualize it really nicely as a Ricky pining kind of song, which I absolutely dig (not quitting on my Rina endgame, and you can’t make me) I mean: “If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me? Agony, beyond power of speech, when the one thing you want is the only thing out of your reach”. And BONUS I think we could also get a full-on version of “Agony” in all its absurdist glory with…

Rapunzel’s Prince - EJ. Well, sort of. Technically, no. BUT for the purposes of “Agony”, yes. At this point EJ will have graduated, but I don’t think he will be written out of the show, so it remains to be seen exactly what his place will be. I just think these two 100% need a song together and this is 100% that song. I could see it being something as simple as EJ is helping out with the show, the unnamed kid playing Rapunzel’s Prince is out, so they have EJ fill in. Or they have to have him go on for that kid last minute during the performance. It’s a quick, easily explainable thing that would have SUCH a great payoff.

Jack - Big Red. This was certainly one of the easier ones to cast, but my first thought was of course Seb. Jack is just a boy whose best friend is his cow and Seb radiates that energy. But I needed him for something else. Enter Big Red, the perfect Jack. For one, Big Red has a lot of that starry eyed wonderment that Jack has, that none of the other characters do. There is a purity and innocence to the way Jack sees a lot of things. That pairs nicely with Big Red. And it also opens the door for him to grow and mature more as a character. By the end of the show, Jack is in a place where is needs to transition more to adulthood and with Big Red being a senior by season 3, I think there is a lot of potential here. Also, with Big Red as Jack, I really like the character he is often paired with in scenes, but I will hold back until I get to them.

Witch - Kourtney. Yes. It is her time. One can debate over which character is the “main character” of Into the Woods, but for me it’s the Witch. And Kourtney deserves this. Did I heavily consider Ashlyn for this as well? You know I did. But I grow more and more confident in the casting of Kourtney the more I think about it. First thing’s first: the Witch belts, and I mean BELTS. Dara is such a powerhouse vocally that she would crush every moment of that; I have total faith. But the Witch also has such quiet and tender moments that people don’t think about as much, but are so necessary for the character to be effective and I think she also has that on lock. We have not seen a ton of it (so I would be eager to get more) but when she did her version of “Beauty and the Beast” she was able to find soft but strong moments in the song, and it was so lovely. Then, from a more thematic POV, the Witch is characterized as “the voice of reason”. While everyone else is running around in their fairytale dream world, she is always the one there dolling out the reality checks. And if that ain’t Kourtney. Basically, I think it is her time to get the lead and she would be amazing in this role.

Baker - Seb. Finally settled on a role for him. But really, how could it be anything else? I have felt since the first time we heard him sing (in Truth, Justice, and Songs in our Key, I think) that he was severely underused. The Baker is essentially the male lead, and he has earned it. I don’t think there’s much more that needs to be said here.

Baker’s Wife - Ashlyn. Here’s the thing: could someone else be cast as Baker’s Wife? Yes. And I am sure they would do a fine job. But the thing about this role is that you often don’t realize how fantastic it is until you see someone really great playing it. There’s heart, humor, tragedy, and so much more all wrapped into this character and I would far and away trust Julia/Ashlyn with this above all others. And Baker’s Wife gets to sing a short reprise of “No One Is Alone” so I get to win both ways. No matter how I try to cast it or rearrange characters, I keep coming back to the fact that Ashlyn is just hands down the correct choice. Plus she is one of the better options when it comes to having chemistry with Seb. And I’m not even talking about romantic chemistry, just more about the camaraderie of it, and being able to really see them as a team worth rooting for. They both have an inherent sweetness that makes you care for them, which is crucial for the show. AND this would be another opportunity for Julia Lester to flex her acting after playing VERY different roles in HSM and BATB. Basically, I don’t know when it happened, but I think I am a Julia Lester stan and I only want what is best for her and I think this is it. 

Little Red - Gina. “Didn’t see that one coming did you?” -Pietro Maximoff. And honestly same. There’s always that tough moment in casting when you’ve done the more obvious ones and then you feel sort of stuck with cast choices that weren’t really your choice. But this one really grew on me. Hopefully, I can do it justice. And I will be the first to admit Gina deserves her time to shine because I do think she is amazing. It just isn’t her time yet. It also doesn’t help that Into the Woods is one of the LEAST dance-centered shows and dance it where she really puts all others to shame. So this is where we landed. But it works. I promise. Little Red as a character is pretty naïve, but covers it up with over the top confidence. That feels pretty Gina. I love where her character has gone and all the growth she is displayed in trying to be more vulnerable. But there is still a part of me that does miss mean girl Gina and I think Little Red is a great way to get that energy without backtracking the character development. I don’t think she would be the stereotypical “bratty” Little Red, but I think she could still do something great with it. Also very similar to Jack, Little Red is one of the more innocent characters that has to grow up and face a lot of harsh realities over the course of the play. And I have no doubt Gina would nail that aspect of it, too. And speaking of Jack, Little Red has a number of scenes interacting with him and you know what that means: Gina and Big Red bonding time! I really like the idea of these roles bringing the two closer as friends. And I already head-canon that they would have a ton of fun playing with the fact that they are now Big Red and Little Red (especially since he is on the shorter side and she is on the taller side). Basically I see this as a way for them to build up a really good rapport. I am also pretty convinced that Big Red is a secret Rina shipper, and this would only add to that. And finally even though this is not a dance-heavy show at all, one place where they could add a dance is during “Hello Little Girl”. Now I will be the first to admit that this song is dicey at best, particularly for Disney. But even a scene working on the dance with just the instrumental, no lyrics, could be great. I see it as a partner dance with the wolf (I don’t know dance terms, so maybe this is super vague). And oh, wouldn’t you know it? Cinderella’s Prince is often double-cast as the wolf! (WHAT ARE THE CHANCES) Meaning the Wolf would also be good ol’ Richard Bowen. And I like the idea of getting Rina scenes of them trying to work on the dance, but Ricky is super bad a leading, and they just have fun trying to figure it out. It’s also nice that it is absolutely not a romantic dance so the two wouldn’t feel any added pressure and could just have fun with one another, and that really is when Rina is at its best (not that I would say no to a scene where Gina has to teach Ricky the BATB waltz, but I digress).

Narrator/Mysterious Man - Carlos. By process of elimination, you probably could have guessed who was next. And I know this one also feels like a weird choice but I do kind of love it. First you have the narrator, which is another one of those roles that is only as memorable as the actor playing it, which I think is right up Carlos’ alley. He is always trying to put his unique stamp on things and be memorable and he would take the narrator in a very enjoyable direction. There’s also the matter that I see Carlos as something of an assistant director with Miss Jenn, which makes him a third-party observer of the shows inherently, so it is almost a little meta that he would also end up being the narrator. Then there’s is the mysterious man. I love the idea of Carlos getting to play two very different characters, but I love it even more because the mysterious man is the father of the baker which makes for a lot of sweet moments between the two of them. Yes it might be a little weird for Seblos to be playing father and son, but there is such a vulnerability and tenderness in the moments between the two characters, particularly during “No More” that I can get over it. Because I think they are one of the few pairings on this show that could really pull that off. I just think this character would be a great way to exhibit the range of Carlos.

**BONUS ALTERNATE CASTING**

I really, really love this idea and could not fault them if this was the direction they went, but I ultimately decided against it, mostly because I felt too strongly about another character having the role BUT:

Baker’s Husband - Carlos. I just really love the idea of Seblos getting to be front and center, with their dynamic as the focal point of the show. And honestly Carlos would also do an amazing job as this character. I mean, Seb and Carlos singing “It Takes Two”? How sweet is that? This would also be a great way for the development of their relationship to get a little bit more attention, instead of a side story here and there. There is a lot that could be done with this from a story perspective and I would be here for it.

Unfortunately, then that leaves me unsure of where to put Ashlyn. She could be Jack’s mother, but that feels like such a waste of her. I mean, she would do well and she does have the lead this year, so it’s not SO terrible her having a more minor character, but it just doesn’t feel right. And I really just feel so strongly that she would be the best option for Baker’s Wife out of everyone. And it opens the door to develop the Seb and Ashlyn friendship more, which I am always here for. 

Anyway. Those are my thoughts. If you made it this far: wow and thank you!

[eunsoyi]

dear moon

kpop songfic series #1: bokuto koutarou

warning: this is a bit long lol & angsty

dear moon, my moon

i can’t get any closer

like the moon i can’t reach

even with fast-paced walking

"i’m sorry." he muttered and lowered his head. i smiled sadly and brushed his hand with my fingers. my chest was burning in pain, as if it was going to explode any time soon. but i didn’t cry. i didn’t have the strength to do so. i kissed his knuckle and replied, "it’s okay, koutarou."

the next day, i did not show up at the stadium, much to my parents’ surprise. "aren’t you going to support your best friend?" they asked. i shook my head and covered my body with my blanket, pretending to be asleep. every bit of person in my school is probably there right now, cheering for fukurodani. no, they’re cheering for bokuto kotarou, the volleyball club’s ace, a volleyball superstar, my best friend.

my best friend who just rejected me.

i gathered the strength to stand up and open the television and at least watch the game from the comfort of my own living room. i stared at it for a few minutes until i heard the words "fukurodani’s ace does it again! an amazing straight shot!" as the camera pans to his jumping backside.

"he’s going to be a big hit soon, don’t you think, y/n?" my mother asked. i just nodded in response as i felt tears form in my eyes.

oh moon, like moon

why won’t you go away?

i try to turn away and run

but you’re like the moon that follows me

i sighed as i texted ‘i’m doing fine’ to my parents for the nth time this week. my college roommate kept laughing at me for having overprotective parents, and i just responded with a deadpan chuckle. two years into university and i already want to quit if not for the hefty amount of money that my family is paying for my tertiary education.

"bokuto beam!"

i stopped myself from looking at my roommate’s laptop. i’ve been hearing his name ever since we graduated high school, and it’s like a noise that frustratingly kept ringing in my ear to the point where i want to cut it off. my roommate was a big msby fan, and from what i’ve heard, kotarou had been scouted and became a professional player for that team.

not that i care.

every after a stressful and tiring day, she’d pop in one of msby’s games and squeal like a hungry pig. "you can use earphones, you know?" i said with a hint of annoyance in my voice that i failed to suppress.

"jeez, okay." she glared at me and finally, the room was at peace. but i couldn’t shake off hearing his name from the muffled speakers of her earphones, so i decided to take a breather.

the august night was cold, as expected, since fall is approaching rather rapidly for my liking. i sat down on one of the benches at the park in front of my dorm building and gazed at the stars.

i hated the stars.

despite being so numerous, they look so terribly lonely. the distance humans see between them was a ruse, as they were literally light years apart, a distance none of us can really fathom.

"y/n?"

you,

is it coincidence?

i jumped up immediately and locked eyes with a familiar white-haired boy, wearing a big jacket and a sports bag clung on his body.

"koutarou.." i managed to squeak out.

the moment we met eyes,

"it really is you." he smiled and gave me a hug. the hug was very brief for me to react, but i can still feel his arms linger on my back. i felt even more pathetic than i did when i confessed to him that night.

"yeah. i heard you’re doing well." i smiled, sat back down, and ushered him to sit beside me to which he happily obliged.

i heard a low voice

talking to me

"i am." he whispered. his eyes reflected the night sky, and they were the most beautiful things i’ve ever seen. as i looked deeper, i realized they were hollow, dark, very different from what his fans have been seeing. it was almost empty. lonely, even.

my hatred for the stars grew.

oh moon, my moon

i’m not trying to hold you

i know you’re too big for me to hold

i rarely saw koutarou after that. we finally had each other’s contact details after two years of not seeing each other, and he has been constantly texting me, but i haven’t given him a decent reply.

"what’s keeping you from doing so?" akaashi keiji, one of my high school friends and kotarou’s right-hand man, asked as we were eating out for ramen one night.

"i don’t know." i mumbled and twirled my noodles, msby versus another team i don’t know booming on the restaurant television.

"you’re still hung up about that night? i thought you’ve moved on." keiji raised his eyebrow.

"i have."

"then just properly talk to him."

"i can’t."

"why not?"

i sighed and crossed my arms, looking at the television which showed koutarou’s joyful cheer as he scored a point against his opponent.

"i’m not good enough."

the next week, i found koutarou sitting on the same bench i sat the day we met again. when he spotted me, he gave me the biggest, brightest, almost blinding smile i’ve ever seen.

"why are you here? aren’t you busy?" i asked while sitting down beside him. he chuckled. "i’m a volleyball player. the only thing i do is train and play."

i giggled. "fair point."

we talked for a good hour with canned coffee in one hand and a hot pack on the other. i did not pay attention to the cold, october air. the only thing i could see was the man beside me, radiating the brightest energy i ever felt, and the view of the empty park.

if only time would stop, and we’d stayed like that forever.

oh moon, my moon

i’m not trying to have you.

everything went by so smoothly, i did not have time to think things through. it became unspoken tradition between the two of us to meet in that park every weekend and he’d treat me to canned coffee, much to my dismay.

“don’t you get paid for being a professional athlete? why is it always canned coffee?” i jokingly said. he frowned. “isn’t spending time with me enough?”

yes. it was more than enough. i wanted to yell that out to him, but i couldn’t. i rolled my eyes in response and pretended to be annoyed at the canned coffee.

“y/n..” he said in such a serious voice. i hummed in reply, gulping down the drink in my hand. “do you still like me?”

i stopped myself from spitting out the stupidly sweet liquid in my mouth. i coughed, choking on my drink. “what?”

“i like you, y/n. a lot. i realized this when i saw you again.”

i did not respond and stared at the ground. my mind was blank. what should i say? what was i supposed to say? i haven’t thought about this, at all.

“can we date?” he broke the silence.

in hindsight, i shouldn’t have said yes.

the fact that you’re so dazzling

is because i’m too dark of a night

agreeing to date bokuto koutarou was a mistake.

we decided that i’d move in to his apartment, to which i happily did. the first few months were okay. we did the things couples usually did: kiss, hold hands, go on dates, whatever there is to name. however, despite being his girlfriend, i did not attend any of his games even if he forced me to. i told him that i’m not a fan of crowds, and i assured him that i am supporting him from our apartment, and he just let me be.

on our first year of dating, i decided to go to one of his games as a surprise.

i was sitting on the bleachers, blending in with the tremendous amount of fangirls and volleyball fanatics in the crowd. after the game, i whipped out a box of homemade chocolates and the bouquet of flowers that i bought and tried to approach him, but before he even noticed my presence, he was surrounded with different types of people: journalists, agents, managers, teammates, fangirls, fanboys, children and elderly alike are asking for his autograph and his picture.

i left without saying a word.

after that day, i got intensely busier. i prepared for my thesis, i was stressing myself with different laboratory subjects, and i got hired as an intern in a research lab. koutarou, on the other hand, kept getting commercial deals and busied himself with tournaments and games. we barely had time to see each other, and when we did, we’d sit in silence, a silence so deafening it almost made me go crazy. whenever i’d see him, his eyes would be hollow, the same eyes that were presented to me when i first saw him again.

i attempted to work things out, if there were actually things that needed working out. but we both couldn’t find the right time to do so. it was either he or i who’d go home immensely exhausted and go straight to sleep.

the relationship was going nowhere.

is it coincidence?

on your white face,

“koutarou, can we talk?” i finally said once he got home.

“i’m very tired, y/n. can we do this tomorrow?”

this conversation again. i was honestly so sick of those words. i kept my calm and tugged the sleeve of his shirt.

“please?”

he sighed, dropped his sports bag, and looked at me in the eye. “what?”

“this relationship.. it’s..” i stammered, trying to find the right words to say.

“it’s getting pretty exhausting, huh?” he smirked and leaned on the doorframe.

there’s a shadow stain

that doesn’t suit you

“wait.. what?”

“i’m tired, y/n. goodnight.” koutarou whispered, kissing my forehead and headed towards the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

i’m waving

it’s how i call you

there’s a loner here

who resembles you a lot

a week later, kotarou and i broke up.

i asked why. i knew the answer, i just had to hear it from him.

“i was lonely.”

i smiled sadly. “i was, too.”

he gave me a week to clear out my things in his apartment, and to be frank, that was the most stagnant yet most painful week of my life.

i was wrong about him in so many ways.

in the years i’ve known him, i’ve looked at him like a star, more specifically, like the sun. he was so warm and bright that it made me frustrated. i thought i was nothing like him. i thought we lived in two very different worlds: him living in a place of happiness and stardom while i lived somewhere damp and boring.

but the times he showed me the real him, the bokuto koutarou behind closed doors, those empty eyes..

we were two peas in a pod.

instead of making each other happy, we were each other’s catalyst to our own descent.

i gave him one last kiss on the cheek and bid him farewell. i moved back to my dorm, much to my roommate’s surprise. “hey, y/n, did ya miss me?” she cheekily remarked.

“you wish.”

i wished that were the reason.

i met up with keiji very soon in our usual ramen shop, and i didn’t even need to tell him what happened. he found out through kotarou. apparently, he was actually planning to break up with me months before but couldn’t find the courage to do so.

“you know, it’s a waste.” keiji said, slurping his noodles.

“what is?” i asked, tilting my head in confusion.

“i honestly thought the two of you were perfect for each other.”

i sighed. “that was actually the opposite of what i was thinking.”

keiji looked at me with those pitying eyes that i hated so much. “are you okay?”

i’m not doing so well

“i’ll be fine.”

my only moon

as much as i can’t reach you

till the night grows deep

keep that silence with the white light

i stared at my thesis once more, which was binded and published. i felt tears welling up my eyes. my roommate hugged me, yelling and crying that she’s proud of me and whatnot. my parents who were on video call were sobbing as well. my phone notifications were blowing up with different message of congratulations.

i finally graduated. my thesis finally got published. i am finally an employee in the research lab i worked as an intern in. my family called me lucky for being so successful early on. i disagreed and just laughed it off.

that night, my roommate celebrated by buying beer for me as a treat. we stayed up all night, laughing and drinking. she got too drunk and finally fell asleep. i immediately went to get some blankets and pillows to tuck her in the couch.

“congratulations msby black jackals for winning the spring tournament!”

i stopped in my tracks. i didn’t realize she was playing another volleyball game in the time we were talking. i found myself staring at kotarou’s cheering figure. i closed my eyes, trying to suppress my tears.

i took the remote and turned the television off.

so i won’t sleep again tonight.

this was the first time i ever cried while writing. dear moon is my favorite song that was written by iu (i suggest listening to her version of the song bc it’s so good as well). hope you all liked this despite the angst!

[squarecarousel]

Interview with Caitlin Alexander

Well folks, we're nearly at the end of our Square Carousel journey, and there are just two interviews left – both with two of our longest-standing members! Today, we reconnect with Caitlin Alexander, who has been with the Square Carousel Collective from its very beginning almost 10 years ago. Although we've featured an interview with her here in the past, it's been so long that we are due for an update! When she's not freelancing or performing her duties as an SC admin extraordinaire, Caitlin works tirelessly on her craft, creating prints, products, hand lettered posters, and artwork that embrace the earthy beauty of nature. With a strong focus on environmentalism and a sense of community, her artwork exudes a warmth and complexity that draws the viewer in and invites them to stay a while. Read on for her gems of wisdom!

Make Earth Cool Again

Q: Comparing your early work from your first few years after college to your most recent pieces, you've kept a lot of the textural, playful essence of your style while refining certain elements. Has your process changed much since those early days, and if so, what do you now do differently? 

 A: Such a great question straight out of the gate! My process has changed quite a bit since I graduated in 2011 (almost a decade ago... yikes!). In college, part of my crafted identity as a brand-new illustrator was my traditional use of gouache paint. I actually, in all honestly, was kind of a snob about it, because so many people in our department worked solely digitally. I felt that digital painting was a crutch, which I suppose can be true in some cases, and possibly even more-so when you're applying that to college students, but I certainly had no ground to stand on. In reality, my snobbery kept me from learning critical tools, as I never took Photoshop or Illustrator classes, aside from the one that was required for graduation. This hindered my work a great deal outside of college, given that illustration is so often paired with graphic design, and editing work for clients was so much more difficult traditionally. In 2013, I got a job designing t-shirts, and lied to the company, saying I knew how to use Illustrator. Luckily it was remote, so I was able to teach myself without anyone hovering over me, but that was so foolish, looking back, given the expensive education I got at SCAD should have been my opportunity to learn those things. I introduced digital work more and more over the years, and by 2016 or so, I was primarily a digital artist. Gouache will always have a place in my heart, and I will still break out the tubes occasionally, but working digitally has allowed me to grow so much more as an illustrator, with the ability to edit, paint with more detail, and having more control over color and layering. 

Q: Of all the projects you've done in your professional career, which would you say is closest to your heart? 

 A: Probably the picture book I worked on a couple of years ago, titled "Cool For You." I had a lot of creative freedom for that project, and the subject matter of climate change is personally very important to me. Working with the author, Marianna, was really wonderful, as well. 

Cool For You book cover

Q: The Southwest influence on your work is pretty significant, and I think it's safe to assume you appreciate the majesty of the landscape in your region of the country. However, if you had to live in another state, which would you choose and why? 

 A: Funny you ask that, because I've actually considered moving from Texas to Colorado lately! The culture there is still very western, but I appreciate the liberal point of view (Texas has been grating on me lately, even living in Austin), and the landscape is even more stunning out there! I'd be close to so many inspiring National Parks. Plus, summers wouldn't be 8 months of the year and over 100 degrees for half of it! 

Travel West postcard (1 of 6)

Q: TV shows or movies? 

 A: Lately, Jordan and I have been watching New Girl on repeat. I'm not usually one to watch a show or movie over and over again, but I think we really just needed something light and fun, since life has been so very stressful over the last year.

Q: What's your favorite subject to draw? 

 A: This one is hard! I'm torn between people and landscapes. People are more fun and comfortable for me, and I could knock out a bunch of them quickly. Landscapes are always intimidating, and I'm nervous the whole time, feeling like I can't remember how I did it the time before. It's so strange, because it always ends up fine! But since I feel that way, the payoff is so much greater when I feel satisfied with the final result. 

Q: What would a perfect day look like for you? A: I probably would have answered this totally differently pre-COVID, but in this current world we live in, I would absolutely love to have what used to be a normal, uneventful weekend day for me: Jordan and I would sleep in a little, see an early afternoon movie at the Alamo Drafthouse where we'd eat lunch, then spend the rest of the afternoon browsing used book stores and estate sales, and then meet our friends at the neighborhood coffeehouse for dinner and Trivia Night. I will be so happy to have that again. 

Cover art for East Side Magazine

Book Lover Ladies series- The Book Clubbers

Q: What have you learned from your years at Square Carousel, whether organizing behind the scenes or as a contributor? 

 A: Oooof!! So SO many things! Wow... well, I'll go with the most obvious first: as a member, I learned how to continue to make portfolio-worthy work, even without jobs coming in. That was definitely the most valuable thing about Square Carousel, in my opinion, and hopefully what everyone else got out of it, as well. It can be so hard for fresh graduates to keep up that momentum, and the group saved many of us from becoming stagnant. In terms of running the group... it's been rewarding, but honestly very difficult throughout the years. There have been many ups and downs, and finding the right balance between structure and patience can be extremely challenging. I'm super proud of Elizabeth and myself (OG members!) for keeping it running through the messes-- we've been through some shit together! My major takeaway is the importance of diligence. Projects, businesses, organizations-- they all need at least a couple of people who just keep chugging along, always maintaining the structure (schedule and accountability) and balance (rules and lighthearted encouragement). 

Moth magnets

Q: As the readers are aware, Square Carousel drawing to a close soon. Do you have any plans for what you'll do with the extra time you'll have after our tri-weekly challenges end? 

 A: You know, I actually haven't thought about this too much yet. It's probably because I'll just fill it with more self-imposed projects and deadlines, since I was able to bring that skill I learned in Square Carousel into the rest of my career a while ago. (Or more real jobs! That would be ideal!) I'll miss the community though, and hope to find a way to keep that aspect of freelance life alive. Instagram friends, anyone? 

Q: What's your quirkiest habit? 

 A: Jordan told me recently that he found it weird and endearing that I joke-sing to my cats in the kitchen about really stupid stuff... so probably that! Official Cat Lady© status achieved.

Caitlin and Buster Keaton the Kitten

Q: What advice would you give to a newbie illustrator just starting out today? 

 A: I'd give them the hard advice that our professors didn't really give us in school: there is no way this is going to work out for you if you're not incredibly committed to pursuing it. Now, don't get me wrong-- I'm not telling anyone to have an unhealthy work/life balance because I think that's a toxic sentiment. But you have to keep illustrating and illustrating and illustrating, and arguably more importantly, keep networking and networking and networking. You're going to be rejected or ghosted more often than not, but if you really want it to work out, you're going to keep doing it anyway. And taking critiques if industry folks offer them, to grow and become better. Don't become stagnant in those critical building years.

Caitlin’s studio

Q: Anything else you would like the readers to know? 

A: Yes – thank you so much for supporting Square Carousel through our amazing ten years of challenges! We really appreciate everyone who has kept up with us, checking out the illustrations for each prompt and reading our posts and interviews. Y'all are wonderful, and we hope you'll continue to find us, wherever each of us fly from here! And on that sweet note, we say goodbye for now! Check out Caitlin’s website for more, and follow her on Instagram for new art when it drops.

Join us next time for our final interview!

[svprncva]

𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙴𝚁

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴: Alex 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂: She/Her 𝙰����𝙴: 26 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚉𝙾𝙽𝙴: CDT (GMT-5) 𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙶𝙴𝚁𝚂: None

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁

𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙴: Sirius Black 𝙰𝙶𝙴: 21 𝙱𝙻𝙾𝙾𝙳 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚂: Pureblood ( begrudgingly ) 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼: Samuel Larsen, Jordan Rodrigues, Sebastian de Souza 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙰𝚃𝙷 & 𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝚃𝙻𝙴:           Sirius Black in a position of authority, can you believe it? He certainly couldn’t, not when the Cannons first approached him about accepting a coaching position. Sure, he had a brief stint as a beater on Gryffindor’s team, but a poor practice attendance record and a penchant for less-than-textbook sportsmanship on the pitch ensured that he didn’t last a season beyond his fourth year. He was by no means an authority on technique or strategy when the job was handed to him, though judging by the Cannons’s previous season, no one on the team seemed to have a grasp on such matters.            Vastly under-qualified, Sirius accepted the position as assistant coach and started the next week. After a single day on the pitch, he realized why they had come to him. They didn’t need another mastermind, they needed unity, and Sirius’s reputation for rallying the dead preceded him. If anyone could spark a flame from a dying ember, it’s Sirius Black. And if they need a morale booster to masquerade as a coach, he’s more than happy to wear orange.  𝚀𝚄𝙸𝙳𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴: Chudley Cannons  𝚆𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙻𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴: Order of the Phoenix  𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝚁𝙲:           There are a thousand ways to sugar coat it, but quite frankly, life isn’t easy for Sirius at the moment. He’s always been cursed to be trapped between who he was and who he aspires to be, but since graduating from Hogwarts, each year has come with apathetic standardization of the world. Gone are the days where black was black and white was white. Now gray surrounds him, dogs his every step and haunts his dreams.             See, when he was younger, his moral compass was perfectly aligned. No, he wasn’t a saint, but it was easy enough to look around and figure out what he should be doing, thinking, saying. Anything that angered his family and made his friends grin was bound to be a step in the right direction, another leap towards becoming the man he always felt he could be. Redundancy solidified certain behaviors, but after he stepped foot off the Hogwarts Express for the final time, he was forced to realize that a life can’t be dictated by the reactions of other people, try as he may. Graduation meant it was time to carve out a place for himself in the world -- this time without real-time feedback from professors, friends, enemies. Sirius had the rest of his life to establish, and the freedom of choice began to take its toll after a year or two of liberties.             Never did Sirius expect freedom to be his downfall, but as drunken nights gave way to midday sunrises, he could feel himself sinking into the guilt of the stagnant. He’d spent the entirety of his teenage years in the pursuit of becoming a good man, and he spent the first few years of his adult life believing he had somehow achieved that goal. But the empty whiskey bottles and crumpled bed sheets read otherwise, and someone was wise enough to tell him that not everyone that happened to join the Order was inherently good. It jarred him, that conversation. War beckons good men to conduct bad deeds -- and at the end, when the victor has been declared, who is to say that the guilt of those deeds won’t outweigh their intent?            Extrinsic guidance ripped away, Sirius was forced to begin the arduous process of making his own mistakes, learning the weight of regret, the sleeplessness of second thoughts. It motivated him initially, but a lack of experience brought about failure. He applied to be an Auror and was promptly rejected. He worked at the Leaky for a fortnight before throwing in the literal towel; the regulars came with more baggage than there was room. He even tried to work as an auto mechanic in Muggle London only to quit after being told on the daily to fabricate problems for income. The entire world was open to him, but he has yet to find a place within it.             So when the Cannons offered him a coaching position, no matter how utterly absurd, Sirius accepted. He’d been recruited, told that there was a chance he could bring value to a team. He would never let it show, but he’s desperate to feel that sense of belonging he felt five years ago in the Common Room without a care in the world except for how to sneak in his next pack of smokes. After giving up his family and feeling friendships weaken amongst the war effort, he needs someplace -- someone -- to call home. And little does he know just how vulnerable that need makes him to the influence of the Insidio phenomenon. He’s staunchly against the mission of the Death Eaters, but he’s in search of open arms and with a high enough dose, he just may find them on the wrong side of the war. 

𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆:

“'ELLO, HOWDY, HI - CAN I SPEAK TO YOU FOR A MOMENT? I JUST NEED A MOMENT OF YOUR TIME, HI, HELLO - HEY, I’M WITH THE QUIBBLER, YEAH! WOULD– GEEZ, WOULD YOU LIKE TO ANSWER A FEW QUESTIONS! IT’S FOR THE SPORTS COLUMN, ON PAGE 17, YOU CAN’T MISS IT!”

Sirius laughed as the overeager reporter stumbled up to him, seemingly tripping over invisible shoelaces. “The Quibbler, yeah? You’ve got about as good a reputation as my team,” he said. There was no need to elaborate on which team. His jumper was that awful shade of Cannon Orange, a brand unto itself. “Happy to give you a bit of content, though I fully expect to be front and center on the cover.” A quick smile, effortless if a bit tired. The Cannons had been grappling for pitch space recently, and that meant everyone’s schedule had to be... flexible, to say the least. He’d seen more sunrises than sunsets this week. 

The reported nodded and brushed off the lapels of his coat. For as much a mess as he appeared, Sirius should have expected the upcoming boom of another innocent-yet-abrasively-delivered question. Should have. Instead, his brows shot towards his hairline as a stranger shouted at him from point-black distance. “HOW COME YA ALWAYS HANGING AROUND HERE?! DO YA WORK HERE OR SOMETHIN’?”

“Something like that. The Cannons keep putting galleons in my vault at the very least,” he answered, consciously keeping his tone level. It’d always been easy for Sirius to become swept up in the tides of other people, especially those with louder personalities. If he weren’t careful (or exhausted), the interview would devolve from interrogation to screaming match. “Sirius Black, assistant coach of the Chudley Cannons. If you need a snazzy byline, feel free to call me Quidditch’s Savior.”

The reporter softened a bit and almost looked as if he were going to laugh. But then his quill touched parchment, his brow furrowed, and a second later another question errupted from his lips. “WHAT’S YOUR GOAL, THEN?! WHAT’RE YOU TRYIN’ TO DO? WHAT’S YOUR DYIN’ DREAM, PAL? WHAT’S THE POINT OF IT ALL?”

"Getting awfully philosophic for a sports column, aren’t we?” Again, Sirius’s voice was light, but something within him had seized upon hearing the question. What’s the point of it all? He’d asked himself that nearly every night for the past year, and he wasn’t any closer to finding an answer now than he was then. 

Quidditch wasn’t that deep, no need to go scurrying about the shadows. He’d keep things light. It was his job, after all. “I’m rebuilding the best team Quidditch has ever seen. Everyone’s counted the Cannons out for the season, and it hasn’t even started yet. I can’t wait for the first game when you all see what I’ve been seeing out on the pitch during practice. This year’s team has spirit to match skill, and we’ll be taking the cup this season.” A quick flutter of something like hope erupted within him. It was a fool’s hope, he knew that, everyone knew that, but it felt good to drown doubt with conviction. “That’s a promise, by the way.” 

Another flurry of the quill, another shifting of the reporter’s weight as if the world was forcing him off balance. Sirius slipped his fingers into his jeans and found himself rocking back onto his heels. He was about to walk away when the next question hit him like a bludger from a blindspot. “YA GOT ANYONE YOU’RE GOIN’ HOME TO? YOU HAPPY? YOU TAKEN? THEY FAMOUS? WHAT, A GUY CAN’T ASK A QUESTION?!”

Blind-sighted but laughing, Sirius clapped a hand against the reporter’s shoulder. “I’m not sure if you’re trying to start up a gossip column on the side or if you’re making an offer. Either way, color me flattered. But the answer depends on the night, and considering we’re on the record, I’d rather avoid giving you a straight answer.” He winked and let his hand fall back to his side. 

Across the field, a separate voice thundered: “Coach Black! Practice started ten minutes ago!” 

“That’s my cue,” Sirius said. “You know where to find me if you have any follow up questions, don’t be a stranger.” As Sirius walked away from the interview, the question unanswered nagged him: You happy? He swallowed it and stepped into the locker room. Maybe it was a good day to grab a broom and join his players on the pitch. 

𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙴𝙾𝚄𝚂:

PLAYLIST

PINTEREST

MOCK BLOG

AESTHETIC

BAD HABITS

GOOD HABITS

EXPRESSIONS OF LOVE

(LINKS TO COME AFTER ACCEPTANCES)

[rinasmoldavitejourney]

Day 12

i swear i haven't forgotten about this blog already. it's just nothing has really been happening lately and i've legit been so busy with the last few weeks of school. within these five days though, i decided to take a break from my moldavite because i haven't been seeing a lot of changes happening. i feel kind of stagnant at the moment. so i'm hoping that by the time i come back to my moldavite, it'll start to "work" again if that's even how that works. I have noticed this though: so remember when i said that ever since i started to sleep with the moldavite i've been having unusually realistic dreams of which most of them i can't even remember? yeah, so, obviously taking a break from my moldavite entails that i dont sleep with it and the very night i stopped, i was having less realistic dreams and i could remember them. My dreams started to actually feel like dreams, as in they clearly felt like fiction. there's no way that i couldn't tell these types of dreams apart from reality.

also, i dont know if this counts, but i started to read tarot cards. I've been strangely attracted to them lately. one day, i felt a strong urge to go get a deck of tarot cards so i went and i got a deck. On top of that, the deck that i got was a deck that i was very drawn to. It was almost like i was meant to go get a deck of tarot cards lol. So, that's been a change in my life i guess.

to be honest, i dont really know how much change moldavite can bring into my life right now. There's nothing that can really be taken away from me (knock on wood). The only change that can be given to me is big things entering into my life. It seems The biggest change that i have in front of me is graduating from college. from there, the rest is a blank canvas ready for me to paint out my life. how do i want my life to look like? what colors do i want to use? maybe the moldavite can help me answer these questions when i start to use it again.

[illbefinealonereads]

Blog tour day! Today I’m sharing some information about Lobizona by Romina Garber, as well as an excerpt. Scroll down to learn more.

Some people ARE illegal.

Lobizonas do NOT exist.

Both of these statements are false.

Manuela Azul has been crammed into an existence that feels too small for her. As an undocumented immigrant who's on the run from her father's Argentine crime-family, Manu is confined to a small apartment and a small life in Miami, Florida.

Until Manu's protective bubble is shattered.

Her surrogate grandmother is attacked, lifelong lies are exposed, and her mother is arrested by ICE. Without a home, without answers, and finally without shackles, Manu investigates the only clue she has about her past—a mysterious "Z" emblem—which leads her to a secret world buried within our own. A world connected to her dead father and his criminal past. A world straight out of Argentine folklore, where the seventh consecutive daughter is born a bruja and the seventh consecutive son is a lobizón, a werewolf. A world where her unusual eyes allow her to belong.

As Manu uncovers her own story and traces her real heritage all the way back to a cursed city in Argentina, she learns it's not just her U.S. residency that's illegal. . . .it’s her entire existence.

Early Praise: “With vivid characters that take on a life of their own, beautiful details that peel back the curtain on Romina's Argentinian heritage, and cutting prose that shines a light on the difficulties of being the ‘other’ in America today, Romina Garber crafts a timely tale of identity and adventure that every teenager should read.”–Tomi Adeyemi New York Times bestselling author of Children of Blood and Bone

“Romina Garber has created an enthralling young adult fantasy led by an unforgettable Latinx character Manu. In Manu we find a young girl who not only must contend with the injustice of being undocumented she also discovers a hidden world that may explain her very existence. I fell in love with this world where wolves, witches and magic thrives, all in a rich Latinx setting!” –Lilliam Rivera, author of Dealing in Dreams and The Education of Margot Sanchez

Buy Link:https://read.macmillan.com/lp/lobizona/

Author bio:

ROMINA GARBER (pen name Romina Russell) is a New York Times and international bestselling author. Originally from Argentina, she landed her first writing gig as a teen—a weekly column for the Miami Herald that was later nationally syndicated—and she hasn’t stopped writing since. Her books include Lobizona. When she’s not working on a novel, Romina can be found producing movie trailers, taking photographs, or daydreaming about buying a new drum set. She is a graduate of Harvard College and a Virgo to the core.

Social Links:  Twitter: @RominaRussell // Instagram: @rominagarber

Excerpt:

2

I awaken with a jolt.

It takes me a moment to register that I’ve been out for three days. I can tell by the well-rested feeling in my bones—I don’t sleep this well any other time of the month.

The first thing I’m aware of as I sit up  is an urgent need  to use the bathroom. My muscles are heavy from lack of use, and it takes some concentration to keep my steps light so I won’t wake Ma or Perla. I leave the lights off to avoid meeting my gaze in the mirror, and after tossing out my heavy-duty period pad and replacing it with a tampon, I tiptoe back to Ma’s and my room.

I’m always disoriented after lunaritis, so I feel separate from my waking life as I survey my teetering stacks of journals and used books, Ma’s yoga mat and collection of weights, and the posters on the wall of the planets and constellations I hope to visit one day.

After a moment, my shoulders slump in disappointment.

This month has officially peaked.

I yank the bleach-stained blue sheets off the mattress and slide out the pillows from their cases, balling up the bedding to wash later. My body feels like a crumpled piece of paper that needs to be stretched, so I plant my feet together in the tiny area between the bed and the door, and I raise my hands and arch my back, lengthening my spine disc by disc. The pull on my tendons releases stored tension, and I exhale in relief.

Something tugs at my consciousness, an unresolved riddle that must have timed out when I surfaced . . . but the harder I focus, the quicker I forget. Swinging my head forward, I reach down to touch my toes and stretch my spine the other way—

My ears pop so hard, I gasp.

I stumble back to the mattress, and I cradle my head in my hands as a rush of noise invades my mind. The buzzing of a fly in the window blinds, the gunning of a car engine on the street below, the groaning of our building’s prehistoric eleva- tor. Each sound is so crisp, it’s like a filter was just peeled back from my hearing.

My pulse picks up as I slide my hands away from my temples to trace the outlines of my ears. I think the top parts feel a little . . . pointier.

I ignore the tingling in my eardrums as I cut through the living room to the kitchen, and I fill a stained green bowl with cold water. Ma’s asleep on the turquoise couch because we don’t share our bed this time of the month. She says I thrash around too much in my drugged dreams.

I carefully shut the apartment door behind me as I step out into the building’s hallway, and I crack open our neighbor’s window to slide the bowl through. A black cat leaps over to lap up the drink.

“Hola, Mimitos,” I say, stroking his velvety head. Since we’re both confined to this building, I hear him meowing any time his owner, Fanny, forgets to feed him. I think she’s going senile.

“I’ll take you up with me later, after lunch. And I’ll bring you some turkey,” I add, shutting the window again quickly. I usually let him come with me, but I prefer to spend the morn- ings after lunaritis alone. Even if I’m no longer dreaming, I’m not awake either.

My heart is still beating unusually fast as I clamber up six flights of stairs. But I savor the burn of my sedentary muscles, and when at last I reach the highest point, I swing open the door to the rooftop.

It’s not quite morning yet, and the sky looks like blue- tinged steel. Surrounding me are balconies festooned with colorful clotheslines, broken-down properties with boarded- up windows, fuzzy-leaved palm trees reaching up from the pitted streets . . . and in the distance, the ground and sky blur where the Atlantic swallows the horizon.

El Retiro is a rundown apartment complex with all elderly residents—mostly Cuban, Colombian, Venezuelan, Nicara- guan, and Argentine immigrants. There’s just one slow, loud elevator in the building, and since I’m the youngest person here, I never use it in case someone else needs it.

I came up here hoping for a breath of fresh air, but since it’s summertime, there’s no caress of a breeze to greet me. Just the suffocating embrace of Miami’s humidity.

Smothering me.

I close my eyes and take in deep gulps of musty oxygen, trying to push the dread down to where it can’t touch me. The way Perla taught me to do whenever I get anxious.

My metamorphosis started this year. I first felt something

was different four full moons ago, when I no longer needed to squint to study the ground from up here. I simply opened my eyes to perfect vision.

The following month, my hair thickened so much that I had to buy bigger clips to pin it back. Next menstrual cycle came the growth spurt that left my jeans three inches too short, and last lunaritis I awoke with such a heightened sense of smell that I could sniff out what Ma and Perla had for dinner all three nights I was out.

It’s bad enough to feel the outside world pressing in on me, but now even my insides are spinning out of my control.

As Perla’s breathing exercises relax my thoughts, I begin  to feel the stirrings of my dreamworld calling me back. I slide onto the rooftop’s ledge and lie back along the warm cement, my body as stagnant as the stale air. A dragon-shaped cloud comes apart like cotton, and I let my gaze drift with Miami’s hypnotic sky, trying to call up the dream’s details before they fade . . .

What Ma and Perla don’t know about the Septis is they don’t simply sedate me for sixty hours—they transport me.

Every lunaritis, I visit the same nameless land of magic and mist and monsters. There’s the golden grass that ticks off time by turning silver as the day ages; the black-leafed trees that can cry up storms, their dewdrop tears rolling down their bark to form rivers; the colorful waterfalls that warn onlookers of oncoming danger; the hope-sucking Sombras that dwell in darkness and attach like parasitic shadows . . .

And the Citadel.

It’s a place I instinctively know I’m not allowed to go, yet I’m always trying to get to. Whenever I think I’m going to make it inside, I wake up with a start.

Picturing the black stone wall, I see the thorny ivy that

twines across its surface like a nest of guardian snakes, slith- ering and bunching up wherever it senses a threat.

The sharper the image, the sleepier I feel, like I’m slowly sliding back into my dream, until I reach my hand out tenta- tively. If I could just move faster than the ivy, I could finally grip the opal doorknob before the thorns—

Howling breaks my reverie.

I blink, and the dream disappears as I spring to sitting and scour the battered buildings. For a moment, I’m sure I heard a wolf.

My spine locks at the sight of a far more dangerous threat: A cop car is careening in the distance, its lights flashing and siren wailing. Even though the black-and-white is still too far away to see me, I leap down from the ledge and take cover behind it, the old mantra running through my mind.

Don’t come here, don’t come here, don’t come here.

A familiar claustrophobia claws at my skin, an affliction forged of rage and shame and powerlessness that’s been my companion as long as I’ve been in this country. Ma tells me I should let her worry about this stuff and only concern myself with studying, so when our papers come through, I can take my GED and one day make it to NASA—but it’s impossible not to worry when I’m constantly having to hide.

My muscles don’t uncoil until the siren’s howling fades and the police are gone, but the morning’s spell of stillness has broken. A door slams, and I instinctively turn toward the pink building across the street that’s tattooed with territorial graf- fiti. Where the alternate version of me lives.

I call her Other Manu.

The first thing I ever noticed about her was her Argentine fútbol jersey: #10 Lionel Messi. Then I saw her face and real- ized we look a lot alike. I was reading Borges at the time, and

it ocurred to me that she and I could be the same person in overlapping parallel universes.

But it’s an older man and not Other Manu who lopes down the street. She wouldn’t be up this early on a Sunday anyway. I arch my back again, and thankfully this time, the only pop I hear is in my joints.

The sun’s golden glare is strong enough that I almost wish I had my sunglasses. But this rooftop is sacred to me because it’s the only place where Ma doesn’t make me wear them, since no one else comes up here.

I’m reaching for the stairwell door when I hear it.

Faint footsteps are growing louder, like someone’s racing up. My heart shoots into my throat, and I leap around the corner right as the door swings open.

The person who steps out is too light on their feet to be someone who lives here. No El Retiro resident could make it up the stairs that fast. I flatten myself against the wall.

“Creo que encontré algo, pero por ahora no quiero decir nada.”

Whenever Ma is upset with me, I have a habit of translat- ing her words into English without processing them. I asked Perla about it to see if it’s a common bilingual thing, and she said it’s probably my way of keeping Ma’s anger at a distance; if I can deconstruct her words into language—something de- tached that can be studied and dissected—I can strip them of their charge.

As my anxiety kicks in, my mind goes into automatic trans- lation mode: I think I found something, but I don’t want to say anything yet.

The woman or girl (it’s hard to tell her age) has a deep, throaty voice that’s sultry and soulful, yet her singsongy accent is unquestionably Argentine. Or Uruguayan. They sound similar.

My cheek is pressed to the wall as I make myself as flat as possible, in case she crosses my line of vision.

“Si tengo razón, me harán la capitana más joven en la his- toria de los Cazadores.”

If I’m right, they’ll make me the youngest captain in the history of the . . . Cazadores? That means hunters.

In my eight years living here, I’ve never seen another per- son on this rooftop. Curious, I edge closer, but I don’t dare peek around the corner. I want to see this stranger’s face, but not badly enough to let her see mine.

“¿El encuentro es ahora? Che, Nacho, ¿vos no me podrías cubrir?”

Is the meeting right now? Couldn’t you cover for me, Nacho?

The che and vos sound like Argentinespeak. What if it’s Other Manu?

The exciting possibility brings me a half step closer, and now my nose is inches from rounding the corner. Maybe I can sneak a peek without her noticing.

“Okay,” I hear her say, and her voice sounds like she’s just a few paces away.

I suck in a quick inhale, and before I can overthink it, I pop my head out—

And see the door swinging shut.

I scramble over and tug it open, desperate to spot even a hint of her hair, any clue at all to confirm it was Other Manu— but she’s already gone.

All that remains is a wisp of red smoke that vanishes with the swiftness of a morning cloud.

Excerpted from Lobizona by Romina Garber. Published by Wednesday Books.

[agentunwin]

SLEEP AID

in which Y/N can’t sleep and seeks out Shawn for help.

— A/N: this is my first imagine since changing my url :~) it’s also one of the only things i’ve been able to write in forever.. im graduating very soon and school has really been tough this semester so i barely have free time, but this is one of my favorite tropes so i somehow found it in me to write this lil thing in the 30 minutes of free time i had tonight. [if u know who made this gif lmk!] thank u guys i love u.

— WORDS: 628

— WARNINGS: Pure fluff. also barely edited

-

Y/N's body was restless as she twisted and turned underneath the useless thin sheets draped over her body, the spot where Shawn should have laid empty and cold. The digital clock on the nightstand beside her blared a bright red 12:04, signaling exactly 35 minutes since she'd last looked over at it. And since then, nothing at all had changed.

She wasn't sure what was keeping her awake that particular night, but at that rate, she knew any effort of hers to fall asleep would be fruitless.

The girl breathed a heavy sigh as she forced her body to sit upright, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed before standing up. Her fingers traced along the bottom hem of Shawn's long t-shirt she adorned, pulling the fabric down further over her bare legs. Her feet tread carefully as to not make any sudden loud noises as she creaked opened the bedroom door and came to face the rest of the penthouse. And though the whole of the living room wasn't visible from her spot at the end of the hallway, the bright flickering light of the T.V. gave away what she'd expected Shawn to be doing.

As she approached the living room, Shawn's eyes never left the T.V. Rather, his attention remained stagnant, spine hunched over, fingers quickly tapping away at the controller in his palms. Though, even through the focus he maintained, his girl's presence was impossible to miss.

"Hey, hun," He murmured, eyes flickering up for less than a second before snapping back to his game, "What are you doing awake?"

Y/N hugged herself through the t-shirt and took a few steps to join Shawn on the couch, immediately sinking into his touch and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I dunno." The girl shrugged, staring down at the fingers she'd begun to nervously fiddle with. Shawn bit his lip when he looked down at her, noticing the habit of fidgeting she'd recently picked up. He sighed and paused the game, placing the controller down to his side and moving to wrap his arms around her. His lips found her temple and they remained there for a long time, Shawn breathing against her and shutting his eyes, happiness filling him when he felt the tension in her body begin to fade.

"Tell you what." Shawn suddenly spoke, placing one last peck to her forehead before leaning back and getting comfortable. "I have a few more rounds of this game left. Why don't you lay your head on my lap and see if you can fall asleep easier this way?"

Y/N rolled her eyes with a chuckle, "You're such a boy."

Still, her body moved to his instructions, sprawling out across the couch and leaning her head on his thighs. They were thick enough to serve as a pillow, and once she felt Shawn drape the couch blanket over her body, she instantly felt at ease.

"Goodnight, baby." He whispered, leaning over to press one final kiss to her lips before sitting back up and unpausing his game.

Y/N allowed herself to snuggle further into him and shut her eyes, the sounds of the controller's clicking and his calm breathing causing a wave of exhaustion to wash over her.

She was out within the next 10 minutes, making Shawn laugh to himself when he noticed this. She was always so stubborn, refusing to fall asleep unless he was somewhere near her, but he didn't mind one bit.

Shawn shut off the game a half hour later, not bothering to turn off the lights so as to not wake her up. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes peacefully, allowing his hands to trace along her cheeks, arms, and anywhere he could reach before his eyes eventually fell shut to join her in her slumber.

[parniarazi]

realignment + growth

I haven’t wrote here or in general much lately, as school and worked have picked up and kept me busy, even with doing it all from home! Pandemic aside, the world is moving quickly and it’s hard to keep up sometimes. Especially when big moments happen (like RBG passing), it can feel overwhelming and like nothing we can do matters. What helps me when I feel in over my head is just purging it all with a deep self-reflection that helps anchor me down to what I’m doing towards on a daily basis and how that’s working for me in the big picture. Going back through this blog, I briefly looked over what I wrote at the turn of the year, as 2020 was beginning. Even though things have felt very different and stagnant this year, I realized I’ve actually grown so much and come so far even in this short time!

A year ago right now, I was going through one of the most difficult times of my life, as major shifts were happening in all areas of my life. I had breezed through most of my undergrad, always feeling like school came rather easily to me and academia was an area I wanted to pursue because of this. I didn’t know what to do after graduation, reconciling between wanting to find a “good paying” job with my degree/interests, and wanting to do something that aligns with what I’m passionate about and can bring me a deeper sense of fulfillment. Since I was doing well in school and professors encouraged me when I told them I wanted to go to grad school‚ I figured pursing my PhD and becoming a professor was the way to go. I idolized my professors and loved my campus, so it wasn’t hard to envision myself doing this...at least until I actually started my grad program in political science. Last fall, I was failing and withdrew from a class for the first time, was concerned about having to pay back my scholarship for the semester, and had no idea what I would do if I left my program. I was desperately searching for a way out because I knew I could not thrive (or even survive) in the environment of my grad department— it was revealing some ugly realities and turned out be the opposite of everything I wanted in a career!

Fortunately, being on campus, I was able to talk to other people and departments and eventually found my home in the Communications grad program. I had a cross-listed class, and the Comm students were friendly and inviting, so I began talking to them and found out more about their program. They still seemed to have a soul unlike my own peers— so that was already a good sign! I definitely wanted to keep my soul and work in a field that would respect and pay me for my work. Keep in mind, while all this school/career crisis of wondering what I should do with my life was happening, it was also my first few months being moved out my parents house and living with my boyfriend for the first time. I was missing my family constantly, and adjusting to my new home/life while struggling with horrible anxiety that weighed me down like bricks on my chest. 

It got to be too much sometimes— especially because on top of that, my income was tied to my school because I had just started as a graduate assistant in an office on campus. This was also my first real “job,” outside of what I considered to be my “fun college job” teaching swim lessons. Not only did school suck at this time for me, but I also hated this job and the people in my office. It worsened my anxiety, and I ended up going to the school clinic and getting a formal diagnosis (and medication) for anxiety for the first time in my life, even though I’ve dealt with it for as long as I can remember. This was a big step and turning point, because I refused to compromise my mental health and wellbeing for anything. A career that comes at such a cost is not for me— having balance and self-care are far too important to me. 

While all of this was happening, I kept pushing my political science advisors to help me and connected with the Communications department about getting into their program instead. I had to advocate for myself harder than ever and push other people to help me, but in the end it was worth it! I finished the semester with the 2 courses I kept, managed to keep getting paid even though my position required full-time enrollment, and I ended up getting accepted into the Comm program by transferring instead of having to wait until the next fall to reapply. With my anxiety, and just being a more a shy/introverted person who was so scared I’d hardly ever speak up in class, I had to find my voice, create my own boundaries, and talk to adults I felt really uncomfortable talking to at first. Big lesson: you have to advocate and speak up for yourself until people see and hear you! It is always worth it, regardless of if you get what you want or not.

I started off the spring in my new program and settled in so much better from the start! I also kept my campus job I hated, but was searching desperately for internships and opportunities to get some actual Comm experience under my belt, as I was entering a new field I had zero experience in. I applied for everything I could and I got a little side gig working as a part-time student organizer for an intersectional feminist non-profit based out of Austin. I was super stoked to just get to do something I’m passionate about and get paid for it, even it was small. Little did I know, this would lead me to big things! Even with the pandemic hitting in the spring, I managed to finish my courses with A’s, work from home with my campus job (no more depressing office vibes!), and apply for dozens of internships. I ended up getting two remote internships over the summer that paid me— one with the same non-profit I was working with as a Digital Intern and another similar position with a different non-profit. I was finally gaining some of the experience and skills I really needed to start a career in this field. Even though the non-profit route was not what I had in mind, I loved my internships and the teams I worked with, and it was so rewarding. 

It wasn’t easy working long hours from my laptop on my dining table, but it did have its own perks. No bras or dress pants or waking up early to get ready and drive in traffic— it’s a hell yes from your fave introvert! Another pandemic-inspired moment was finally getting a dog! Even through this seems irrelevant it actually was really in perfect alignment with what I wanted and timing. I’ve wanted a dog for as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved animals and with my anxiety it was something I hoped would help at least a little bit. My parents never wanted us to have a dog and I grew up with them telling me it was a huge responsibility so even after I moved out I hesitated and wanted to give myself time to adjust and make money before taking on that responsibility. This summer, I started pushing my boyfriend to look into fostering programs to help me adjust to having a dog at home, and we did but had no luck. One day, I saw a friend posting about a lost dog they found who needed a home. She was cute and I wanted to go see her just to scope it out, and of course the universe brought the most perfect little dog into my life at the most perfect time!

I was just finishing up my internship and had a few weeks of down time before the semester started, so it was the perfect time to adjust to having my new dog, Sage, around. Since then, we’ve bonded so much and I love just having another little creature around the house! She really does bring warmth and light into my life. She pushes me to get outside more even when I feel shitty, she makes me have a more consistent routine, and just helps alleviate my stress while connecting me with my inner child and inner caretaker at the same time. During the latter half of this quarantine, my boyfriend and I also had our share of struggles and fights we had to work through. Like anything worth having, it took effort to work through some rough patches, but at the end of the day I believe in the power of love and its ability to persevere and heal, even in the most difficult times. Not to mention, having our little Sage around even helped us through it! This taught me to trust that the right things will happen in the right timing, and the right people will make an effort to stick it out with you. 

I was incredible lucky and blessed that several things I was manifesting and working hard towards happened in perfect alignment. First, I got a scholarship from my grad school that allowed me go back full-time and only have to pay half of my tuition (big plus since I was paying this myself). Secondly, one of the ladies I had worked with during my Digital internship found another position and was leaving the non-profit I had worked with, and she recommended me for a part-time version of her position. They extended me this offer shortly before my semester started for school. I planned to keep my campus job, since it was staying remote too, and I wanted to stack up some savings after the COVID-life lessons I’d been learning. I knew it was going to be a challenge to maintain the personal/self-care balance I need in life with my now full-time class load and 2 part-time jobs. However, I felt so fortunate to have these opportunities while so many people across the country are struggling to keep normalcy going or even stay afloat during this time. Especially not being able to travel, go out much, or do other things, I figured what better time than now to just buckle down to work hard and make major moves towards what I want. 

The universe is blessing me with this alignment and opportunity right now— it’s giving me everything I worked for in this past year. Especially with my new job at the non-profit, the team is incredibly kind but also puts serious support behind their staff. They’re paying me pretty well, but also want to transition me to a full-time staff member at their Austin office after I graduate! They’re mentoring me and teaching me so much, plus I’m getting to know a network of professionals who work in organizing, advocacy, and other important work that directly helps people! Like I literally could not have asked for anything better and more me! Life lesson: It’s worth struggling for a bit and diving into the unknown as long as you feel like it’s the right thing to do for you. 

My parents had wanted me to stay in the PhD program. I knew in my gut and heart that it wasn’t going to work for me though, so I split the second I could. I trusted myself, advocated for myself, and worked through the scary uncertainties about if I would ever find a job I liked and that paid me well. I knew changing career paths would give me a chance to open myself up to new things that align better with who I am and what I desire in life and work. Here I am a year later, and I wouldn’t have gotten any of these amazing opportunities if I hadn’t trusted myself and worked hard to forge my path. Although this year turned out to be nothing like what any of us had planned, I’m so privileged and lucky that it turned out to be a year of incredible milestones and growth for me nonetheless! 

Today, with this new moon energy and the powerful seasonal shift of fall on the verge of unfolding, I felt the need to make these reflections as a reminder to myself that hard work pays off. Doing what’s right pays off. Doing work that matters really fucking pays off. Fall is a special season that allows us to harvest the seeds we’ve sown all year. It’s cheesy, but I’m a sucker for being in tune with nature and the seasons, trusting each season will bring its own negatives and positives that foster growth or death in the right places, restoring a greater balance in the ways that we need. 

With each season, I am growing into a stronger, wiser, more beautiful version of myself. I am deeply grateful for everything, both the good and bad in my life, because every detail is a puzzle piece that allows for the big picture of my path and place in the world to unfold. I’ve also been fostering patience and maturity, as I navigate this pandemic world and knowing (unlike many other people my age) that as much as I miss the “normal world” too, it’s not worth risking my own health or the health of anyone else to have “fun.” I can reinvent the ways in which I bring joy and fun into my life, while staying safe and trusting that those moments and activities will make their way back in my life eventually as things get better. It’s all temporary. 

I am unshakable in my roots and focused on what is important. My vibe is so strong and beautiful, it’s no surprise that I’m not for everyone! Of course, there are areas like friendships and my social life that I’ve put on the back burner for now, but I know as I’m working on myself and just being authentic in putting myself out there, the right people will make their way into my life at the right time! Growing up is strange anytime but especially in this moment, and in some ways I’ve grown apart from who I thought I was, but I also feel more connected to myself than ever. I am healing each day with the light and love in my life— I don’t need anyone’s approval and have nothing to prove to anyone but myself! 

My value and my place in the world doesn’t require anyone’s approval and is not tied to down to any single thing. It comes through in the love I give and receive, it comes through in the way my soul feels when I wake up, it comes through in the literal beauty I get to experience in the world. I went through a negative slump in the late summer and my anxiety was majorly triggered these past several weeks as I re-adjusted to full-time school and my work. This new moon has brought great clarity, a sense of deeper renewal, and turning a new leaf as I return home to myself. To my positive outlook and perseverance that has brought me to this point. Life is nothing without the little moments of joy and love— again, just let me corny and say that aligning back to being present and enjoying those little things is really all that matters. 

My past self would be so proud of me and where I am today. I worked for and earned every beautiful moment that comes my way, and I intend on giving that back to others. Every ray of light that enters me, every penny of abundance I receive, I intend on reflecting right back, because nothing is meant to just be absorbed. It’s nothing unless it’s reflected back into the world in meaningful ways, whether those are tangible or not. I trust that I am making my mark by simply being me and being that reflection. This is how history changes course, and patterns are broken with new ones created. I’ll end with a few manifestations and mantras for this fall-winter season we’re entering!

M A N I F E S T A T I O N S

☽ The people will win, because our power truly is greater than that of those in power. We all deserve better, and so many people are putting in tireless work to make that better world a reality. Thing may not be perfect, now or ever, but making progress and supporting those who need it the most is always a win and it is coming our way because there is a shift happening that the world will have to keep up with.

☽ I will reconnect with my more creative side, allowing my potential to shine through even more. Whether it’s for work or for my own hobbies, I will continue finding outlets for myself to create things that feel authentic and important to who I am, but to also fill in gaps where I feel like others need it. 

☽ I will stay rooted and grounded in my spiritual practices, even when they’re the easiest things to give up when life gets busy, that just means they’re even more necessary to stay connected with! I will make time for journaling, playing, meditating, yoga, cooking, and other activities that bring me in tune with my natural state as a human. 

☽ I will connect and find community. Through being my most authentic self and working through my scars, my negative patterns, and my own blocks, I will find a sense of community with others and find people on my same wavelength who I can connect with. No expectations in mind or idealized version of friendship in mind, just pure desire to connect with others and mutually contribute to each others’ lives in positive ways

☽ Love will persevere and heal as its meant to, in both my relationship and family. Everything will be okay and work out just fine, if not better, than I expect. Pavel and I will be okay and keep growing together, and my family will be okay in staying healthy and strong through this time as something better arises for my dad’s work situation. 

M A N T R A S

☽ I am focused on what matters right now.

☽ I am strong, powerful, and capable of doing what I set my mind to. 

☽ I have a kind and beautiful energy that anyone would be lucky to have.

☽ I can find presence and joy in the little moments.

☽ I can find patience and trust that everything will happen as its meant to. 

[doubledeaky]

No Sleep Tonight

Brian May x Female!Reader

A/N: Hey, babes! This is dedicated to all my fellow kids who grew up with strict parents, even though this is a little dramatic. This is my first Brian smut so I hope it’s halfway decent cuz I’m super proud of it. I have a Rami request coming down the pipeline soon, stay tuned! As always, feedback is very much appreciated! Much love! -m:)

Summary: Brian is never one to encourage disobedience towards your parents, but when it comes to you, he’ll make an exception.

Word Count: 5,835 words 

Warnings: cursing, smut (18+ please!), oral sex (female and male receiving)

To say your parents were strict would be an understatement. As far back as you can recall, your mother and father were what most would call “helicopter parents.” Both constantly swirling your perimeter, never keeping their watchful eyes away from you for long. It made more sense then, you were a child and required supervision. Now, at eighteen years of age and just two months away from your first semester of university, it seemed cruel. Their unyielding attitudes an ever-present reminder of the tight leash they could keep around your throat as long as they were paying your way. For the better part of your short existence, you’d accepted it, obeying their rules and never straying from the narrow path set for you since birth. However, this changed when you met Brian. He was like you, a people pleaser and respect for authority was something he was taught to cherish, a virtue that should never slip from his subconscious. You related to him and bonded over the restricting barriers the two of you faced every day.

Senior year of high school had certainly been a time of great change, you’d met Brian and became a legal adult, but little changed. Your parents were still insufferably authoritative, and your frustration was only made worse when you watched helplessly from the side lines as all of your friends were cut loose, even Brian. You were gob smacked when, seemingly overnight, Brian’s parents had forgone all previous guidelines once he’d turned eighteen. Everyone was moving on and you were stagnant, glued by your feet to the same space you’d been stuck for years.

Brian comforted you when your parents were unwilling to lift your curfew on your eighteenth birthday, and he let you cry into his shoulder when you weren’t allowed to go to your own graduation after party with the rest of your classmates. That night, which was meant to be special, he watched with sullen eyes and a frown as you wept softly into the material of his graduation gown. You remember the clinking of his numerous academic metals against his bony sternum and the breeze of early May cooling your angry, heated face.

“Don’t worry, love. Uni’s right there, freedom’s just around the corner.” He said, gesturing animatedly to the space before him in an attempt to comfort you.

You smiled half-heartedly, shifting uncomfortably on the concrete steps leading to the entrance of the gymnasium, where your classmates were celebrating; living lives you’d never gotten a taste of, but ones you so craved. You sniffled, sitting up and wiping your tears with the sleeve of your silky, black gown.

“I know, Bri.”

You looked up, your parents were impatiently stood in front of the family car, your mother tapping her foot against the pavement. You sighed in what felt like familiar defeat and turned to Brian.

“I should go.” You whispered, holding your arms open to invite him into your embrace. He grinned and hugged you tightly, his curls tickling the skin of your neck. He pulled away, grabbing your face in both hands.

“Three months.” He whispered, giving you a genuine smile, a glint of childlike mischief in his bright eyes.

“Three months.” You repeated, placing your hands over his and giving him a sweet giggle. You nodded quickly and stood; he followed, giving you one last long hug and a wave as you scurried off, bunching your gown in your hands to keep it from scraping against the pavement. Brian watched as your parents silently scolded you, chastising you for being a normal teenager, and waited until the taillights of the minivan disappeared into the darkness before joining his classmates in celebration without you, the one person he really wished was there.

That was nearly a month ago and even the biggest declaration of coming adult hood, graduation, did little to change your parents’ no-nonsense ways. Your summer as of now was spent working the occasional shift at the library, cherished but always short visits with friends, and enjoying the sunshine of late-June. What made this particular summer miles more bearable was your daily interactions with Brian, either in person or over the phone. His seemingly respectable and gentle nature had won over your parents’ trust and even they enjoyed his company when he stopped by. He lived close by, usually walking the short distance or hopping into his birthday present, a used but very loved station wagon. His presence was always the highlight of your day. Summer afternoons were usually spent in the cool grass of your backyard, listening to music that encourage rebellion or cooped up in your room, doing the same. Conversation was easy, and Brian pulled laughs from you with skill and practiced grace, never failing to bring a smile to your occasionally sullen face. Today was no different, Brian’s sweet voice over the phone placed a wicked grin on your face without fail.

“How long has it been since I’ve seen you?” He asked, you could see his brows drawing together in thought through the phone.

“Just two days, Bri.” You laughed, twirling the phone’s cord idly between nimble fingers.

“Well, we can’t have that. Come over.” He said simply, and you could hear him shifting his position on the creaky bed he was sat on.

“Are you mad? It’s past curfew.” You laughed incredulously, eyebrows raising in disbelief.

“It’s past curfew for you. I don’t have one of those.” He said, grin evident in his voice.

“Wish it worked like that, Bri.” You sighed into the phone, turning your head momentarily to look at the open magazine sat beside you.

“What are your folks gonna do, hm? You’re eighteen, they can’t keep doing this to you.” He huffed, falling back into the pillows behind him.

“They can if they pay for me to live.” You reply in an attempt to jog his memory, turning the page of your magazine absentmindedly.

“Still.” He whines, running a hand through his mop of brunette curls.

“Still nothing, Bri. I’m not risking it. I’m so close to ditching this joint and I’m not jeopardizing my freedom because you’re bored.” You chided, throwing your magazine to the floor before crossing your arms over your chest.

“Well I’ve already got shoes on and my car keys are looking mighty tempting.” He says, and you can hear a smirk in his voice.

“Brian May, I swear on my- “

The phone goes dead. You scoff as you pull it from your ear and stare into it. You groan and stand from your bed, trying to devise a logical plan of action. After minutes of pacing the length of your tiny bedroom, you gave up; huffing loudly as you fell backwards onto your bed, running a shaky hand over your face. Fuck it.

You slip on a pair of worn, trusted shoes and looked in the mirror at your appearance. Your skin was aglow with the mark of the summertime sun, your hair wild and mussed, lips pulled into a wide smile and heart pounding. Despite everything your parents had drilled into your head from the day you could comprehend complete thoughts, you’d never been more inclined to throw it all to the wayside in this very moment.

A soft knock sounded against your fogged window and you looked up, nerves sizzling with a mixture of fear and pure adrenaline.  You stood and glanced at the clock, past midnight, your parents no doubt asleep in their seemingly sound proof master bedroom. You took a deep breath and made the leap of faith, opening your window and peering down at a smiling Brian before hopping out, the short distance knocking you off balance momentarily. Brian caught you, his laughs stifled through clenched teeth. You shut the window tight with shaky hands and turned to Brian, eyes wide in shock.

“You did it.” He whisper-yelled, gripping your shoulders and shaking you with excitement. You laughed, giggle laced with a nervous energy. Brian pulled his keys from his pocket, dangling them before your face, the brass shining under the bright glow of the moon.

“Let’s go.” He whispered, taking your hand in his and pulling you towards his car, parked a cautionary block and a half away. No turning back now.

***

“Brian, my heart’s pressing against my ribs.” You groan, clutching the rough polyester shirt covering your sternum.

“Oh stop, you know you’re loving this.” He quips, eyes never leaving the road but a bright smile on his face nevertheless.

He was right, you were loving this, every moment of it. The feeling of freedom, completely careless as you let the summer air wash over your face and through your hair, with your best friend by your side. It’s a sensation like no other and you never want to feel anything less thrilling than this. It’s like getting a present when it’s not your birthday, like diving into the silky-smooth water of a backyard swimming pool, like running through the crowded streets on the 4th of July with a sparkler in hand, its fiery stars glowing in your wake. Letting go completely without worrying about being reprimanded or punished for being human, for wanting to feel, to live. It’s intoxicating and the energy within you has your limbs buzzing, your entire body shaking with pure glee. You let your arm hang loosely outside of the car window, face blissed out and heart fuzzy. Brian glances out of his peripheral, smiling at your content state. He averts his eyes back to the street before him, making sure he’s headed in the right direction.

“Told you.” He smirks, still focusing on the fluorescent traffic lights above him. You roll your eyes, bringing your arm back into the car and searching for a familiar sight down this unfamiliar street.

“Where are we going exactly?” You ask, voice noticeably uneasy.

“It’s a surprise.” He mumbles, smile teasing. You roll your eyes again, shaking your head incredulously. The car suddenly lurches forward and takes a hard left. You brace yourself against the dashboard and look to Brian with wide eyes.

“We’re here.” He says with a grin, yanking the keys from the ignition and stepping out of the car without another word. You take a deep breath, still dazed from the near car accident. He knocks on your window, gesturing for you to get out and follow him. You exhale and momentarily regret every action that had led you to this point before hopping out of the car and following Brian, his curls shining under the flickering orange street light. You put in a great deal of effort to catch up to him, his long legs easily carrying his weight in long strides.

“Slow down, tall ass.” You call out from a few feet behind him.

“Speed up, short ass.” He responds, turning around to meet your flustered gaze. He stops, allowing you to catch up and jerks his thumb to the right.

“This is it.” He says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, awaiting your response. You move your body to look behind him and raise a questioning brow.

“A park?” You ask, a bemused expression painting your face.

“Yes, a park. It’s really nice at night and it’s always empty around this hour. I come here when I need to get away, and it wouldn’t be a stretch to say you need the same.” He explains, grabbing your hand and leading you through the gated entrance, which is open after midnight for some ungodly reason.

“Yeah, yeah.” You mumble, letting him lead you to the destination he has in mind with little resistant.

“Do you ever look at the stars?” He asks quietly, stopping and sitting down on a particularly lush area of grass and clovers.

“Um, not often. But I’ve seen them, yes” You giggle, sitting down next to him, your knee pressing against his bony one. He laughs, laying back with his hands behind his head, gesturing for you to do the same. You do, mimicking his actions and looking forward to what he has in store. Brian’s a simple man, but he’s clever and uses that to his advantage.

“Well, you should make it routine. Good for the soul.” He explains, green eyes admiring the speckled sky above him.

“Maybe I will, Mr. Astrophysicist.” You quip, giggling as you try to take his suggestion seriously.

“I mean it. Takes you away for a minute. Reminds you that there’s more. That you’re not so alone here.” He whispers, eyes catching the reflections of the glowing orbs looming above you both.

You’re quiet for a moment, taken aback, then hum in acknowledgement, trying to take in the night sky in a way similar to him. He’s quiet for a moment, then inhales rather sharply before breathing out, as if he’s nervous to speak.

“Why do you think your parents are the way there are?” He asks, quietly and cautiously, afraid you may take offense. You suck your lower lip between your teeth, eyebrows drawn in thought.

“I dunno. Could be a lot of things. I’m their only kid. Maybe they don’t want to lose me. Maybe they just need something to control. If I knew why, I think I’d know true peace.” You laugh dryly, eyes downcast and mouth drawn in a tight line. He nods, eyes still averted towards the stars.

“I think it’s the control thing. They feel so out of control when it comes to everything else and you’re an easy target, considering you’re their kid and all.” He says, still gazing up at the expanse of the dark sky, eyes visibly darting in all directions. You hum, closing your eyes and breathing in.

“I just wish it was different. I feel so disconnected from them. They’re both like teachers or coaches, not parents. Everything’s so dull. I just wish they could let go for a bit, just to see what it’s like.” You say, expressing feelings you’ve harbored for much longer than you care to admit.

“Yeah.” He mumbles, removing a hand from under his head and gripping the one you have lain across your stomach. You squeeze back, grinning slightly.

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He mumbles, bringing your hand up to kiss the knuckles. You nod, feeling warmth return to your chest and a familiar flutter in your gut.

***

“Where to next?” Brian asks as he folds his long legs in order to fit into the car, turning to you expectantly once he’s comfortable. You raise your brows and let out a breathy laugh.

“Thought you had that covered, May?” You say, leaning back in your seat.

“I did, up until the park. Your turn.” He smiles, jamming the keys into the ignition and twisting, the car spitting momentarily before revving to life.

“Anywhere but my house.”

“On it.”

***

You recognize the route Brian is taking in only a few minutes, smiling to yourself at how transparent he could be at times.

“Your house, really? Are you trying to make your parents punish you?” You ask, laughing as you study your watch, nearly two o’clock in the morning at this point.

“They’re not home. I wouldn’t consciously bring a friend over this late. I’m not stupid.” He mocks, sticking his tongue at you. You sneer playfully, pushing his shoulder lightly, the protruding bone sharp against your palm.

“What’s so interesting at your house that it’s the only place you thought to go?” You giggle, cocking your head to the side in question.

“Told you I didn’t plan too far ahead.” He huffs, giving you an exaggerated frown. “Besides, it’s much better than your house.” He chuckles, pointing a long finger at you.

“Touché.”

***

You run before Brian, beating him to the door and letting yourself in. He shakes his head, locking his car and following you.

“Where is she?” You ask, poking your head around the cozy living room.

“And who may you be referring to?” He questions, tossing his keys onto the glass coffee table and plopping down onto the couch.

“Oh, don’t play dumb. The cat.” You huff, still searching diligently for Brian’s fiery red kitten.

“I dunno. She’s gotten really good at hiding.” He shrugs, smile playing at his lips as he watches you flip over throw pillows and look behind furniture too heavy to move. A small meow steals your and Brian’s attention and you squeal in delight, immediately scooping up the ten-week-old kitten and placing a loving kiss to her head. She purrs, perching herself upright in your arms to look around from the new angle.

“Still no name?” You question, noticing her green nameplate still blank.

“No, can’t think of a good one.” He answers, hands toying absentmindedly with frayed threads of a nearby blanket.

“Well, let’s go up to your room and put on some records. Sometimes I get inspired by a good song.” You smile, already climbing the stairs, the kitten still wrapped in your warm embrace. Brian chuckles, standing up and following you hastily.

“How bout this one?” You ask, already arms deep in Brian’s vast vinyl collection.

“Looks good.” He mumbles, not really hearing you, much too focused on your form sitting idly on his carpeted floor; eyes bright and excited, a new energy to your movements, a new light that Brian hopes never dulls. You smile, placing the record clumsily onto the turntable and flicking the needle down; climbing up onto Brian’s bed, cat in your arms.

“Alright.” You breathe, laying down onto the plush comforter beneath you, Brian following suit. You hum quietly to the song’s lyrics, fingers running lightly through the cat’s orange fur.

“Anything?” He asks, smiling as he crosses one long leg over the other.

“No.” You huff, closing your eyes before allowing a smile to overtake your features.

“S’alright, maybe we’ll just call her Kitty.” He mumbles, reaching over the pet the kitten’s head.

You hum, looking down lovingly at the small animal in your arms, purring softly as she drifts off into a peaceful cat nap. You look up at Brian, who’s still focused on the kitten perched atop your chest. You pick her up gingerly, placing her sleeping form onto the carpet, where she promptly wakes up and scurries quickly out of the room. He furrows his brows, eyeing you carefully as you sit up and cross your legs.

“Bri?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you, for doing this. I really needed it.” You say, smiling wide and reaching to grip his hand tight.

He returns your gaze, bringing your knuckles to his lips for the second time within the span of a few hours. You breathe in sharply, the contact still foreign.

“Of course. I like you this way.” He hums, his fingers fiddling with the rings wrapped around yours. You purse your lips and furrow your brows in question.

“What’d ya mean?” You laugh, confused by his statement.

“Ya know, like this. Careless, not worried about your parents. Nothing holding you back. It’s you, and I only ever want to see you like this. You’re so beautiful like this.” Brian mumbles, eyes widening minutely when he registers the words that tumbled from his mouth. You choke, eyes wide in shock.

“Beautiful?”

Brian doesn’t hesitate to nod, sitting up and grabbing both your hands in his.

“Yeah, beautiful. So bright and so happy. Your eyes are different, they aren’t scared or hesitant. They’re bright. This is the person you’re meant to be. You’ve got so much to give and so much to do, so much ahead of you. Being able to see you like this, for the first time, makes me love you more than I ever thought I could. It was always there, you just had to let go.” He breaths, cheeks red and eyes glossy. You can’t speak, completely stunned by his words.

It’s what you’ve always wanted, to be seen as careless and free, beautiful in your natural state of humanity. Hearing that you’ve got it, you’ve finally done it, is overwhelming and you bite your lip with enough force to draw blood.

“Thank you, Brian. For being so good to me. For showing me how good life is. I didn’t think it could be this nice, that I could be this happy. Just…thank you. I love you, and I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Don’t wanna be afraid of anything.” You smile, voice watery and filled with a loving fondness.

Brian’s chest feels full and fuzzy, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. He feels grateful, happy he met you, happy you’re here now, sat with him on his twin bed, surrounding by the scratchy melodies playing from the corner. With no hesitation, Brian grabs your face and presses his parted lips to yours. Your hands immediately grip his shirt, afraid if you let go, you’ll float away. His hands move from your cheeks and card through your hair, moving it from your face, wanting nothing to bar him from you. You pull away, sucking in a sharp breath and smiling like a fool.

“Fuck.” He breathes, pulling you closer by your hips. You nod, skin hot, the metal of your necklaces cooling you. He kisses you again, gripping your hips desperately, wanting to feel all of you. He pulls away and you boldly climb into his open lap, lacing your legs around his waist. His eyes go wide, an anxious innocence glazing over them.

“I’m not afraid of anything anymore, remember?” You smile, thumbs brushing over his swollen lower lip. He nods, smiling before wrapping his long, delicate arms around you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss these lips.” He whispers, running two fingers over them to emphasize his pure want for you.

“I could venture a guess.” You quip, voice cracking as he nips at the skin of your neck, the sensation sending heat straight to your lower stomach. You bury your hands in his hair, gripping softly at the roots; the groan that leaves his lips encouraging you to move against him. He pulls away, satisfied with his work; running a ringed hand over your neck and clavicle in admiration.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He whispers, toying with the first button of your shirt. You brush his hand away, quickly making work of the baby blue buttons and tossing the blouse aside. Brian’s eyes widen, and his pupils visibly dilate, mouth suddenly growing dry at the sight of your near naked chest.

“Touch me, Bri.” You beg, eyes closed in concentration as you continue to move against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer. He obeys, hands immediately running over the material of your bra, admiring the faint rise and fall of your chest, the occasionally freckle or mark painting your skin, the curve of your breasts; all these factors establishing you in his mind as a goddess among men.

“God, fuck.” He curses, feeling himself grow painfully hard under your ministrations, your hands gripping the hair at the nape of his neck is also no help. You’re panting desperately, silently begging Brian to continue. He must read you well because he quickly removed his shirt and reaches around to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. Much to your surprise, it snaps open with little trouble and if it were possible, Brian’s pupils dilate further at the sight of your bare chest. His hands are trembling as they slide up your sides, cupping your breasts before he slowly brings his mouth to your right nipple, circling the tip of his tongue around your it before taking it in his mouth, nipping then soothing the skin with his cool saliva.

“God, Brian.” You moan, hands gripping his bare shoulders for leverage. He places open mouthed kisses around your chest, giving each breast ample attention before pulling back, a smug grin on his face.

“Making me feel so good, baby.” He groans, hands guiding your movements over his clothed cock.

“Let me taste you.” You whimper, hands grabbing at the material of his trousers.

He leans back on his hands, allowing you to climb off of his lap and crawl over him, stopping just above his hips. You carefully, run your hand over the bulge, curious as to what his reaction will be. He hisses, hips shifting impatiently. Your thighs clench together involuntary watching the boy below you react to your touch and your touch alone. You grip the zip of his trousers with your thumb and forefinger, pulling it down at an agonizing pace, sultry eyes never leaving his wild ones. His jaw sets painfully, sweat beading then falling from his temple. He has to bite back a soft whimper when you pull his trousers down, then all the way off.

He feels vulnerable, but he isn’t afraid. He’s happy that you’re seeing him this way and he’s happy he gets to see you this way. You look back to him after flinging his pants to the side, eyes hooded, and plush lips parted. He nearly groans at the sight of you so beautiful above him, confident and undeniably sexy, if not painfully so. You remove your own shorts, only two layers separating you two now.

You run your hand slowly over his clothed length, taking note of the precum state visible at the tip. You toy with the waistband and he whines impatiently, bucking his hips in search of friction. You tut, bringing your face closer to his crotch and hooking two fingers under the hem of his boxers. You’re still surprised by your confidence throughout this entire situation. You pull them down and immediately your heart falls to your stomach. He’s big, and your nervous for the first time in the last half hour. He notices this, sitting up to place a sweet kiss on your lips, hand brushing hair delicately from your sweaty face.

“We don’t have to.” He whispers, lips millimeters from yours; so close you can taste him, sweet like cherries and lemonade, like summertime.

“I want to.” You respond, pressing your lips to his feverishly, gripping his cock softly in your hand and biting his lower lip as you pull away, lowering your face slowly.

“Fuck.” He breaths, watching you intently as you give his cock an experimental lick, hand still pumping him.

“Please.” He whimpers, hands trembling as they grip the sheets with all the strength they’re capable of. You comply, closing your lips around him, placing one hand on his thigh, the other around what you can’t fit in your mouth. Your studying his face through your thick lashes, searching for his reactions to your movements, noting what he likes and doesn’t. You hollow your cheeks and he lets out a long moan, brushing hair from your face and keeping his hand there to guide you.

“So good, baby. Fuck.” He pants, grip tightening in your hair. His words give you a boost of confidence, pride blooming in your chest as your speed up your movements, head bobbing in tandem with the movement of your hand. Brian groans, his head lolling to the side and eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You hollow your cheeks again and Brian unexpectedly pulls your mouth from him, chest heaving and sheathed in a light layer of sweat. You look to him, confused, lips wet and swollen, more beautiful than you’ve ever been. He kisses you, pulling you back into his lap, fingers burying themselves below the hem of your underwear.

“Sorry, hun. Don’t wanna cum until I feel you.” He breaths, flipping you over onto your back, drawing an airy giggle from you. Brian’s cock twitches at the sight of you beneath him; eyes hooded, lips swollen and parted, arms stretched above your head, and body willing, begging for only him.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He groans, kissing down the length of your body, stopping abruptly above where you need him most. You moan at the sight of him between your legs, lazy smirk and hands gripping your thighs with a bruising strength. He presses a chaste kiss just above the hem, studying the way you squirm and write beneath him, desperate and needy.

“Can I taste?” He asks, fingers already tugging at the flimsy material.

“God, yes. Please.” You whimper, your hips bucking involuntarily under his hold. He smiles, hooking two fingers under the elastic before pulling them down slowly, eyes never leaving your writhing form. He brings himself back up, groaning as he dips his fingers into your heat, absolutely soaked.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He breaths, kissing your pubic bone as his lithe fingers continue to glide through your folds, reveling in the feeling of how wet you are for him. You moan, an unbelievable pressure building steadily in your abdomen.

“Please, Brian. Do something.” You whine, gripping his hair in an attempt to coax him towards your aching clit.

“What do you want me to do, baby?” He coos, fingers swirling around your clit, the pressure sending a shock all the way up your spine and back down again.

“Use your mouth, please.”

He doesn’t hesitate, delving between your folds, lapping at your clit like a man starved. You’re trembling beneath him, hands gripping anything in your near vicinity and hips grinding against Brian’s mouth. The feeling of his lips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thigh, his curls tickling your lower tummy; It’s divine, a pleasure like no other and you clench around nothing, so close to climaxing.

“So close, Bri.” You moan, mind too foggy to register when he pulls his mouth from you. You look up, huffing at the loss of contact as you watch him slip a condom over his painfully hard length.

“Sorry, love. Want you to come on my cock.” He breaths, pressing his lips to your sin a needy, sloppy kiss; his hands placing your legs over his hips before settling between them. He locks eyes with you, suddenly very serious.

“You sure?” He asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face, an act of pure love. You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck, taking in his sloped, elegant features before answering.

“Never wanted anything more.” You smile, bringing your lips to his in a kiss conveying something along the lines of pure want and pure love.

He nods, suddenly very nervous as he lines his cock up with your entrance and slips in slowly. The stretch is uncomfortable but not particularly painful and you remind yourself to breath as he continues. You gasp at the hallway point, gripping his shoulders and throwing your head back. He stalls, afraid he’s hurt you. It’s taking everything in him to hold back, the feel of your walls wrapped around his cock bringing him to the edge faster than he’d like. You moan, digging your heels into the skin of his lower back, begging him to continue.

“Don’t stop, feels good.” You breathe, lifting your hips in an attempt to meet his. He nods, and continues, gripping the sheets around your head to ground himself. He bottoms out, the two of you releasing a broken moan in tandem. Your breathing is labored, walls fluttering around his cock without restraint.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” He groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

“Move, Bri.” You whine, swirling your hips.

He does, bringing his cock all the way out before pushing back in. You both watch the space at which your bodies connect in awe. The only sounds are your mixed, tangled breathing and broken moans. The sound of skin against skin, and a rock album spinning idly in the corner. Brian soon adopts a brutal pace, his cock brushing all four walls, hitting a spot that has you crying out, moaning loudly.

“Fuck, Bri. I’m close.” You whimper, holding him tight. He grips your left leg, bringing it from his hip to rest against your abdomen, spreading you wider and allowing him to reach an entirely new angle within you. You nearly scream, mouth agape in a silent moan. You’re panting, struggling to catch your breath as Brian pounds into you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, all air choked from your lungs.

“Cum for me, babe. Cum on my cock.” He growls, bringing his hand to rub frantic circles over your clit. You moan, long and fractured, your walls clenching around Brian with a vice-like grip. He groans, thrusts growing sloppy as he chases his high, you still reeling from your orgasm.

“Fuck, I’m close.” He groans, leaning back and pushing both your legs up, watching how he disappears inside of you.

“Come on, Bri. Let me feel you.”

His hips stutter and his movements still, groaning as he spills inside of the condom. Moving his hips in small, languid motions for a just a moment after. He pulls out slowly and you whimper at the loss. You both remain still, taking a moment to regain control of your breathing. You’re smiling up at him and he’s smiling down at you, both of you glowing under a post-coital sheen. Brian sighs, moving to discard the spent condom and rejoining you on the bed. He wraps his long, strong arms around you and lays his head against your naked chest. You sigh contentedly, running a hand through his sweaty curls.

“You think your mom will be mad to see you’re not in your bed when she goes to wake you up?” He asks, smiling against your skin.

“That’s a problem for the morning.” You breathe, chest rumbling with soft laughter.  

“It is morning.” He says, smiling as he points to the clock hung over his dresser, which reads six a.m. You groan, laying your head back and rubbing your tired eyes with your thumb and forefinger.

“Well, that’s a problem for later. Just wanna lay with you right now.” You sigh, snuggling into his side, pressing soft kisses to his neck and chest.

“Want you to lay here too.” He mumbles, throwing a blanket over your naked bodies and pulling you as close as humanly possible, breathing you in, wanting to remember every minute detail when he’s without your presence.

“Autumn.” You suddenly mumble, voice muffled in his chest, and he raises his heavy head in question.

“What?” He asks, squinting his eyes and chuckling at your seemingly sleeping state.

“Think you should name the kitten Autumn.” You whisper, half asleep, eyes closed delicately.

“I think I just might.” He answers, settling back into his previous position. You hum, a lazy smile on your face as you give in to a much-needed rest. The room is heavy with love, the thick fog permeating throughout, evidence of what you both cherish so much.

The orange sun is close to breaking the horizon and for the first time in maybe your entire life, you don’t really care about how your parents will react to your disobedience come morning.

- read my other fics here!

[kingofthewilderwest]

peachdoxie replied to your post “somewhere in my childhood family household late at night…. dad: you...”

monoinstrumentalists are just so frustrating, aren't they

(anyway I know it's because you're a huge NERD and your family wouldn't be able to handle your NERDINESS because there's so much of it)

I know we’re goofing around and it’s cracking me up, but I thought it’d be interesting to discuss how what you said is true. While I live in a musical enough family, I’m the only actively multi-instrumental player. There is a different culture and priority to them as single instrument players, versus me, a multi-instrumentalist. 

For most of my family (even the casual players), the concept of purchasing and picking up a musical instrument is consistency and proficiency. I also want that. But I don’t “come across” that way with my musical activities; I may look flighty, undedicated, as I “bounce” seemingly from one instrument to another. 

It can look like I’m picking up and dropping instruments (What became of that clarinet I took lessons for for four months, but haven’t performed on since high school?). Or, it can look like I’m never developing any performable skill in them (despite playing viola for nearly ten years, I still sound scratchy, and the only reason I performed on it in college is because the orchestra accepted ANYBODY who signed up). Or, it can look like I’m buying instruments simply to have more instruments (the first question my mom asked when I went to buy the ukulele was whether or not I’d play it). Like an amnesiac crow attracted to pretty trinkets, they might see me as getting excited about The Latest Thing and then forgetting about it a year later.

But see: that’s not what I’m investing in. Here’s how I actively work through playing multiple instruments:

Some instruments are more casual and some are more serious. I did get good enough at flute to be first chair in All-State Orchestra my senior year of high school. I continued playing flute in bands through the end of my Master’s degree. Hell, I played keys and flute in praise band for church this last month! While I’m not in a classical ensemble now, it’s not impossible to expect I could rejoin a community ensemble, or if I had some extra disposable income, return to private lessons. 

The banjo, by the way, is my First Very Serious Musical Instrument Acquisition since I started playing viola almost ten years ago!!! I’m actively looking up ways I can get private lessons for this baby and Git GUD! I’m so excited. So this banjo investment is literally as serious as I can get.

Other instruments are never intended to be performance instruments, and when I nab them, I know that. I will invest my best time and attention to performance instruments that I want to be proficient/skilled in. But that doesn’t mean I neglect my “more casual” instruments. There are MANY ways in which all my instruments receive a lot of love.

First: I received my degree in Music Composition for a reason. The purpose of a Music Composer is to compose music, not be a hired performer. And the more instruments I have hands-on knowledge and experience with, the better I can compose for more instruments!

One point five: It is a VERY VERY fascinating experience to learn about all instruments out there. Whether or not I become amazing on them, I learn and experience so much by having on hand diverse music-making machines. It’s a world of difference between reading about an instrument and playing it. I gain endless enrichment by learning how these babies work. Sometimes I’m learning more about how an instrument ticks than how to be amazing on said instrument. You could say part of my music hobby is “learning how ALL music is played and performed”!

Second: Most paid music composition gigs I have are not for live performances. I’m contracted to produce tracks combining MIDI (computer synthesized music) and audio (recordings of real instruments being played). In general, if I can get good sound, audio is more appealing, expressive, and impressive than MIDI. Because I do not have the budget, time, and network to hire other people to perform my music, I can get more live instruments into my compositions by playing more instruments myself. My lack of professional performance-level skill can be worked around by how easy I make the part, how I splice audio files, how I mix the parts, etc. Ergo, it is always a net benefit when I have another instrument to my disposal, which goes back into the degree I went to school for, and comes out in every audio track I create.

Third: It’s fun. If I can fiddle around on an ocarina, it’s fun!!!!!!! If I can play HTTYD tunes on pennywhistle cosplaying Hiccup, it’s fun!!!!!

It’s true that, on occasion, some instruments are more keepsakes than playthings. But that’s rare, and I DO play all my instruments and don’t drop anyone. In general, the only time I get an instrument “to get an instrument” is because I have a souvenir tradition: every time I leave the country, I get myself a dictionary for an appropriate local language (to celebrate my Linguist side) and I get myself an instrument (to celebrate my Composer side). Thus far, I’ve only exercised this tradition on two trips. Getting meaningful, special souvenirs that I also might use for decades to come (even if rarely) is valid, yes? 

Last, I want to point out that the majority of my musical instrument acquisitions have been dirt cheap. I think my first pennywhistle cost $3, I got it my junior year of high school, and I still play it. My recorder and two other pennywhistles were an unexpected gift from a high school teacher. I found a didgeridoo in Goodwill for $15 last year. Literally, instead of eating out for one dinner, I got an instrument. Not a bad investment! I’m not being flighty running from instrument to instrument; I’m seizing opportunity to have an extremely exciting life experience, something much longer lasting than one night eating out. I tend to haunt craigslist for radical deals. The banjo, because I’m planning on getting very serious on it, is a raaaaaare investment to get A Good Instrument (and I’m STILL using craigslist to get used to drop price).

For my family, in a mono-instrument mindset, lots of these motivations don’t exist. Buy a good starter instrument so you can learn it seriously, buy an upgrade instrument after you’ve graduated to an advanced playing state, spend a ton of time practicing, they get that. They don’t get “SHIT GOODWILL HAS A $15 DIDGERIDOO!!!!!” excitement. For them, it makes no sense to grab it.

So to my family, when I’m like “Oh hey I want a new instrument!” It becomes this “Ugh, again? Why not SPEND TIME and play the ones you have?!?!” Except it’s unspoken. No one’s mean. And what they show is the lightest tinge of exasperation or lack of understanding, no real mean judging or anything. 

I’m not saying all people who play one instrument have the same perspective, but that’s how my fam goes!

So yeah. I live with a different set of values as a multi-instrumentalist.

But hell hahahahaha. Even for “mono-instrumental values”, my banjo goals are going to align well with their priorities. XD Dudes, I’m going to practice so hard on this baby. I’m going to shred it on the banjo. I’m going to be amazing. I’m going to be good enough to perform gigs if I can find some bluegrass buddies. I’m going to compose pieces on banjo and record them. I’m going to kick ass as a banjo badass.

I haven’t had a good music goal for years, honestly. Without the ability to afford private lessons for advanced flute or semi-advanced piano, without collegiate settings to keep me in the classical community, and without the emotional energy to invest in community ensembles, I’ve been cut off from musical performance goals. It’s felt stagnant and uninspiring. Picking up the banjo and working HARD on this thing is going to ignite a spark I’ve been missing for years. Life is more exciting and meaningful to me when I have an ambition, a trajectory, a goal. This is the start of a new bright life period for me, and I’m pulling so much hope and happiness into it.

I AM EXCITE!!!!

[chl03d]

Big ole’ update

Hi, hello, yes it’s me. Yes I know i’ve been gone for ages with nothing to show for it but I thought it’d be worth me updating here; for what it’s worth anyway.

To put things simply: Ever since university ended I have been depressed, uninspired and outright apathetic towards art. Everything related to 3D and art and the future of my career and work just seemed too much, too bleak I just couldn’t bring myself to focus on it. I’ve only admitted to myself recently the way I feel towards being a professional creative, and whilst I still want to pursue it I have no idea where to begin or go and the whole time I’m being crushed under a horrifyingly large feeling of low self esteem. 

The months following university seemed like a welcome break from the constant deadlines and overwhelming stress i endured through the final project and dissertation. I mean I had too many breakdowns during my third year and was relieved to just be done with the prolonged stress. I didn’t even attend graduation due to money and I just wanted to live a ‘normal’ life (y’know, paying bills and getting by without student demands). I decided to put my ambitions on hold for a while to just exist and be free of the academic world since i’ve been pushing myself in that regard since I began going to school. I got a job, lost it and then got another and things were enough at that point to leave me content and i didn’t bother paying attention to much else in my life.

It was a few months after I had secured this job that things started to decline. I started to feel lost and suddenly panicked at my lack of progress professional. I was swallowed by a feeling of not going anywhere; a stagnant feeling engulfed my existence. 

Was I going to be stuck in a menial job for the rest of my life? 

Is this all i’m good for? 

Was everybody holding me in such high esteem wrongly?

The brakes slammed down so hard on me I felt sick but hadn’t a clue on where to go or what to do. I spiralled severely into an anxious mess who felt like there was no point to existing but dreaded the idea of suicide. This was the beginning of a dark time for me that still hasn’t let me go but that could change soon.

For the sake of my happiness more than anything I need to start creating again. I’ve always had a difficult relationship with art as I’ve always been hyper critical and never viewed my work to the degree of success that others view it. To me there’s always somebody better, prettier works, more effort being committed, more worthy candidates for praise whilst I just do things without putting my heart into it. I fall in and out of art block so often I even find myself questioning ‘Am i even an artist?’ 

Art to me as always helped me understand my emotions and work through difficult times. I think I’ve lost myself since the end of my time at university. The complete lack of drive to create upsets me greatly. I lack purpose and I cry about it a lot. I’ve always been the artsy kid, the one who made cool drawings and had great ideas, but now I feel like a shell of my former self. I don’t contact anyone and I spend most of my time slaving away in a kitchen for pennies to pay for debt and bills. Nothing new happens and I find myself pushing myself lazily through the day to day grind of simply existing. I keep dreaming of better things, bigger ideas and yet I seem to fall back into the routine and slump of barely scraping by. Things that once held joy just seemed to fade away and I find myself to this day eating too much junk food, barely leaving the house and hating the very idea of not feeling settled or fulfilled. I crave so much more than I currently have and yet I feel so tired and worn out, it seems almost impossible to strive for anything else at this point.

I bought a new graphics tablet a few days ago- a 13 inch pen display. I decided that I needed to change things. Even though the option of creating again I feel is crucial to me being on the path to better things I can’t help but feel like this game of tug of war is going to be a constant thing.

I often find myself thinking back to the times in my third year where the class was advised to spend the six months following graduation to build on our portfolios and establish some type of presence in the industry but I struggle to remember if there were any directions in terms of who to talk to or where to look for work. Some classmates have excelled immensely in post-uni study and I feel like I’ve fallen off the bandwagon and been left behind. Those six months? Try nearly 2 years of non-productivity bogged down by trying to stay a float amidst a sea of depression and emptiness. 

What am I to do when I’m full of anxiety and do not know my own worth? What do I do when I feel like my work is sub par? What do I do when i can’t remember half of the industry required technical knowledge from university? 

Honestly I don’t know at this point. The idea of working to create colourful wonderful characters, worlds and objects as a job seems more like a pipe dream than it does a reality. Who knows maybe things will get better from here on out as I start diving back into my passion. 

PS. Expect new stuff soon.

[stephhannes]

fireworks that went off too soon

i guess i haven’t really written anything since i was in new york back in may, and i promise i have a great excuse: i was sad. 

when i got back from new york, i spent basically the entire month in bed. i really don’t remember anything i did, other than hope i’d get hit by a car. 

i finally hit my breaking point of living in abilene. it was good for awhile, but there’s nothing for me here. the only thing that made living here for a year tolerable was being able to travel out of state every few weeks. i absolutely needed the time i spent in abilene to recuperate. i spent 10 months feeling like i had all the breath knocked out of me, but finally i started to feel like myself again. once i started to feel like myself again, i felt stagnant in abilene, almost claustrophobic- that’s when i knew it was time for me to start moving on. when nathan died, i was so afraid that when i came back to abilene i’d just be stuck here forever. i’ve never once felt like i belonged here, and when i got drawn back after i had been gone for five years i felt like a failure and like i’d never get an opportunity to escape. and then i got the opportunity:

at the end of june i did two things: drove to colorado to gone girl myself and just be off the grid for a few days, and got hired as a house manager at the paramount in austin. 

my first day at work was on july 4th, i was super nervous- but for once in my life, i just walked into the room and confidently pretended like i knew what i was doing, like i was actually qualified to do something. after my first day, i realized that i’m definitely qualified to do something. 

my favorite thing about house managing is that there’s a hot 45 minutes of action before the show starts, but as soon as the show goes up, everything is calm. there’s something comforting in knowing that no matter how terrible and hectic pre-show is, there’s going to be a break eventually. 

after my first day, i kept texting everyone saying “i feel so powerful, someone needs to collect me, i think someone made a mistake giving me this much power.” i think most of my power comes from the shoes i bought for work that clack really loudly when i walk on tile, the other 10% comes from how confident i am in decision-making and being a leader now. which is weird, because i’ve never made a decision in my entire life. 

my least favorite thing about house managing is the poverty that comes along with it. that being said, i’m out here looking for a second job so if anyone has any leads, hit me up. i’ve been so stressed for the last two weeks over buying furniture for my new apartment. look, i’m a taurus, so my home space is very important to me. every place i’ve lived in, i’ve had a clear way i want it to look and i can’t rest until it’s exactly representative of my vision. i’m moving back into the same apartment that i lived in during undergrad, literally the exact same bedroom, with my exact same roommate. some of my old furniture is still there, and i realize that i could just re-use all of it and have the same bedroom i had when i previously lived there. but i honestly don’t think my heart can handle it. i lived in austin for 12 years without nathan in my life, but no matter where i go here, i just see him. it’s hard enough driving down the street in between work and home and remembering the time we went to the taco bell cantina and then walked around campus, or the thai place that i took him the first time he ever visited me, or the apartment complex i lived in the first time he visited me. the other day, i was in a kerbey lane location that i don’t normally go to, but i had gone with nathan once, and andrew mcmahon started playing over the speakers and i almost lost my shit. sometimes even being back in the apartment itself is hard for me to handle, the first time i visited my old roommate after nathan died, i spent the night on the couch, and all i could think about was the time we’d both fallen asleep on the couch watching star wars back when he tried to make me watch all the movies. 

the point of all of this being: i’m back on my bullshit and i have a new vision for how i want my bedroom to look- a complete 180 from what it used to be, but i can’t afford it and i’m about to be so anxious until i can get it to what i want. 

it feels really good to be back in society, but it’s been weird meeting new people. for the first time since nathan died, i’m interacting with people who have no idea of who i am, no clue of where i’ve been or what i’ve done, and i’ve been having a hard time figuring out how much to tell people, and when to tell them, and how i want to present myself to people. there are some people that know my fiancé died, but there are some people that have asked me if i was married and i responded with “nah, but i was previously engaged” and left it at that. i hate when people ask me “what brought you to texas from new york?” i’ve completely omitted my time in philly. i don’t mention it on my resume, or in conversation because i hate that time in my life so incredibly much. i usually deflect, and say, “oh, well i was born in austin so i came back!” which doesn’t really answer the question, but it answers a question. sometimes i feel like i seem shady when i have to do these weird conversational navigations but like…. i don’t know what i’m doing. i’ve never had to do this before! 

the other day at work, the coworker that’s been training me introduced me to someone as, “this is stephanie. she used to work at the daryl roth in new york city, and she’s really fucking good! i barely have to tell her how to do anything, she just knows how to be a house manager.”

and it’s true, i’m really fucking good at my job. 

and i’m having a hard time accepting that i’m doing well. 

when i got hired, i was so sad. i was so sad because it feels like accomplishments mean nothing without nathan by my side to celebrate with me. i remember how proud he was of me last year when i had managed to get a bunch of theatre job interviews lined up in philly, and i remember how supportive he was of me back in new york when i struggled to find a job- and i miss it so much. i feel guilty for doing well without nathan in my life. i feel guilty that in the last week, i’ve been so stressed with starting a new job and trying to pack and move i haven’t really thought about him much.

but i think that what upsets me now, is that i get it. i get the guilt that he felt so strongly back when he graduated from acu and managed to move out of abilene. at the time, i was so confused as to why he wasn’t proud of himself, as to why he felt unable to celebrate his accomplishments- but i understand now. and it’s hard for me to be able to understand exactly how he felt with all of the guilt he had after high school. i’ve started to notice lately that a lot of my reactions and thought processes have been reflecting the same ones i saw in nathan, and i’ve felt so heavy knowing that he felt like this too. 

a year ago, i remember being so excited to start my new life with nathan. today, i still feel excitement to start again and to really start rebuilding my life- i’ll just always wish it was with nathan. 

returning to myself has felt so weird lately. i’ve started to notice characteristics of mine pop back up, every time it happens, i ask myself “wow where is this behavior coming from?” and then i remember, oh right, this is who i am. for example, lately after work i’ve found myself with a ton of energy- i want to come home and socialize with people, which is not something i’ve felt in a long time, and i was confused as to where all of this energy was coming from. and then i remembered how one of my favorite parts of the day was when i’d get home from work and then, incredibly enthusiastically, tell nathan about everything that had happened at work. i’d come home and get so worked up while recanting my night that i couldn’t fall asleep, but i was cool with it because that was when i got to spend quality time with nathan. 

long story short: i’m doing well, and i’m feeling bad about it. 

the next time i write anything will probably be next month, and i’m dreading it already. i’ve got a lot of feelings now that we’re approaching the one year anniversary. it’s going to be a hard day. 

for almost eight months, every single day, i would spend like an hour just running through that night’s events, reliving it. i don’t do that as often now, i haven’t thought about it in awhile, but i know that i’m going to be a total disaster on the anniversary. i’ve got a terrible memory, but i’m really good at remembering incredibly specific details of some days: i remember the shirt i was wearing, and that lady gaga’s “just dance,” was playing the day that nathan and i first kissed in 2011. i remember the way nathan’s hair smelled on that one day in english class sophomore year that our teacher let us sit and read wherever we wanted in the classroom, and nathan laid his head on my shoulder to read when we sat against the back wall together. (speaking of, the other day at work, a patron came in that smelled like nathan did in high school and i a) cried at work but b) kept scanning tickets because i’m not a little bitch). and unfortunately, i still remember, in incredible detail the night that he died.

we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. 

ps: there was nowhere to naturally fit this into the blog post, but while we’re on the subject of the fourth of july- i was reminded of one of my favorite memories with nathan. the first time he met my family, (grandma, cousins, etc) was two months after we’d started dating. the best part about having a boyfriend is having a plus one to all the things you don’t want to be at by yourself and the first time i played that card was to get him to come with me to the family fourth of july function. at one point, my cousin asked me to hold her baby and i was like “yeah ok, i’ll do it, but if i break your kid don’t get mad at me” because i have no idea how to interact with children. so i was holding this baby, and jokingly i asked nathan how he felt about it and he was like “i literally don’t think i’ve ever been less attracted to you,” and i was like “oh hell yeah we both hate kids thank god, this is gonna work out.”