#the whole point of her character is gaining independence from her image as little miss perfect

[limpdickharrington]

idk like ships are fun and all but when I talk bisexual Steve I am not talking about wanting Steve to date this guy or that guy I am talking about the fact that making Steve bisexual would have been the most incredible way to complete his character arc that's been building since season 1 and I've wanted it since the beginning, idgaf about Jonathan or Billy or Eddie, bisexual Steve should be canon even if he's single all the way through. It makes sense. It's stupid not to do it. He would be the best fucking character to bisexualise. The entirety of season 4 and his issues with dating felt like it was building up to it. I literally can't believe they're not doing it, my brain does not compute, I can't see any other way for his evolution as a character to not lead to a bisexual awakening.

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

(image description: eight sketchbook drawings of characters holding a variety of pride flags, all nude and posed in ways that match some old fine art pieces. The nudity has been censored with cute digital flower stickers. end description.)

Characters:

Dalmar, intersex man. Kouto, nonbinary. Chacha, agender. Parva, nonbinary. Xulic and Kidron, genderqueer. Obeli (or Abuela) Moruga, genderqeer. Olli, demiguy. Sajak, genderqueer.

Genderqueer is kind of my default for "well, biologically and culturally, they already don't have binary sex or gender, so they kinda default to genderqueer." And I know maybe some people will be bothered by that, but it's just part of the worldbuilding I've written around all these non-human and frequently non-mammalian species of people.

The uncensored version is on my Patreon page. I do have one more drawing to add to this series, but since it's four child characters I will not need to worry about adding any censors and keeping the original image only on my patreon, as they will simply be wearing their pride flags as whole outfits.

The previous part of this, my binary trans characters, can be found over here.

detailed character descriptions and explanations of the pose references under the cut

Dalmar Ubora, a black intersex elf man with short black hair. He is holding his arms up as he holds the intersex flag, mimicking the pose of Virgin Mary from Titian's painting "The Assumption of the Virgin". The shading was washed out by the photo, but his belly is still clearly round from pregnancy. Dalmar is an interesting case, in that he was assigned male at birth based on his outward appearance, continues to identify as male throughout his life, but finds during puberty that what was believed to be an undeveloped penis was actually just a non functional body part. Instead, what actually developed to full functionality was his uterus. He still identifies as a straight cis man, and has come to terms with his body. He is married to a medically transitioned trans woman, and he could undergo operations to change his body if he wanted to. Instead, he has embraced his body and even birthed some children who were conceived via sperm donations. This is why I wanted a Mary pose for him, and this painting in particular is about Mary being welcomed into heaven as a blessed holy woman. Dalmar may not be a miraculous holy figure, but there is a reverence in the way he has come to love his body and chosen to bear children, including the surrogate birth of his brother's child.

Kouto Hayashi-Loryck, a slender nonbinary elf with black hair tied into a bun. They are holding the nonbinary flag and standing in the pose of a statue known as "Apollo Belvedere", which is so old no one knows the artist's name. One arm raised, one lowered, legs in the relaxed contrapposto pose. Kouto is an artist and an art model. Apollo is a god of the arts, and regarded as a beautiful and sexual figure. Kouto is bisexual and admittedly a very sexual and flirtatious person. They did settle into a happy marriage though (actually they are Dalmar's in-law and the sperm donor for the aforementioned surrogate birth.) Marriage has not stopped Kouto's flirtations, merely limited their targets to a singular person. It felt right to give him this pose, from a pretty well known portrayal of Apollo. Beauty, art, and sex, all defining traits of Apollo and Kouto alike, all present in a pose where the figure seems to be reaching for something above them.

Chacha Faraji, an agender black elf with short hair. They are facing away from the viewer, seated on a stool that is covered by the draped agender flag. No physical traits that could betray their agab are visible. Chacha is sitting in the pose of Reubens' painting "Venus at the Mirror". The arm closest to the viewer ends at the elbow, while they hold a mirror in front of their face with their one whole arm. Their face is seen reflected, smiling, little wrinkles visible by their eyes. I chose this painting in part because it did allow me to obscure Chacha's agab. They were my first nonbinary character, and I never really settled on an agab. But also, I enjoy putting characters who have unconventional bodies into poses associated with Venus or Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. Chacha is missing half an arm, they are getting older and it shows in the wrinkles on their face. Chacha is also Aromantic and Asexual, the full queer triple A battery. The mirror pose has become an independence of beauty. "Look but don't touch." Chacha is beautiful, and they do not need to be beautiful for anyone but themself.

Parva Turbatus, a white nonbinary elf with shoulder length curly hair that has been shaved down on the far side of their head. They are holding the nonbinary flag, standing in the slightly closed off pose found in Paul Gariot's painting "Pandora's Box". One hand on their chest, one hand held out to hold the flag. They have top surgery scars on their chest and a c-section scar on their navel, though all of these have unfortunately been hidden by the flower censors. I chose a pandora pose for Parva because they have one of the most intense tragic backstories of any of my characters. Like Pandora opening the box, they have suffered through many things but came out the other side with Hope, and healing.

Xulic Vos and Kidron Engedi, a drow and a lizard person. They are sharing the genderqueer flag. Xulic has long ears and white hair in a braid, with a white monkey-like tail barely visible behind their legs. Kidron looks like a leopard gecko, and their tail is acting as a visual block in fron of Xulic's groin. They are standing together in the central pose of Raphael's "School of Athens" fresco. Xulic is pointing one hand up to the sky, while Kidron holds one hand palm down towards the earth. Xulic's chest is visibly flat, however I have rewritten the drow as a eusocial people, who's biology has made most of the common population infertile and visibly near identical above the waist. Xulic's agab is unknown to anyone but them, and perhaps their reptilian lover Kidron. Both drow and lizard folk have biology and cultures that do not really support a gender binary, so genderqueer suits them both quite well. I chose the School of Athens pose because these characters are scientists in fields that overlap, and they often get into deep discussions on the matter. Xulic is a paleontologist while Kidron is a geologist, and they have another friend (my protagonist) who studies archaeology.

Obeli (or Abuela) Moruga, an elderly goblin with sagging skin and axolotl-like frills on the sides of her head. She grins as she holds the gender queer flag, partly draped over the tall stool she is seated on. Her pose matches that of John Collier's "Priestess of Delphi" painting, which depicts a woman hunched over herself on a stool. Old Obeli Moruga, whose title best translates to "grandmother" is a significant figure in her community, both because of her more practical role as a leader and wise woman, but also because she has gained immortality and become an incarnation of Life Itself, after she was given the offer of such power when she nearly died in the goblin revolution. There are many figures that would suit her. Poses from statues of goddesses, like Athena or Gaia. Perhaps turning away from the theme of greek and roman figures I ended up with for my nonbinary group (dalmar is his own thing) and using the famous painting of Liberty on a battlefield. But now in her old age, all those poses of figures in more active poses, tall and imposing, simply didn't feel right. A wise old woman, hunched on a stool in a pose associated with the idea of an oracle, a priestess, a prophetess, felt much more fitting. (goblin culture does have specific pronouns for leadership, and in the common speech they have decided this translates best to the feminine "she/her")

Olli Moruga, also a goblin with axolotl-like frills, standing with the demiguy flag in his hands. He is in the pose of Michaelangelo's statue of Bacchus, god of wine, merriment, and madness. One hand up as if to salute with a cup, body leaning and perhaps a little unstable. Olli is a gay demiguy, stepping away from the naturally ungendered state of his people to embrace masculinity instead. He is extroverted, loves a good party, and has definitely been a little over his depth with alcohol on many occasions. He knows this is a problem. He used to act rebellious because of it, trying to be cool and aloof, but he has since admitted the truth to himself and now openly seeks help. His trans lover, Zaire (seen in a previous post) has become a great support to him. Even though it may seem odd to use the pose of a god of wine for a character that is trying to overcome an alcohol issue, I still feel like the vibe of Bacchus or Dionysus fits Olli well. He is not only a god of wine, but also of pleasure in general, a concept Olli embraces. Wild joy, perhaps to the point of becoming a little feral, abandoning tradition for personal fulfillment. It is unusual for goblins to embrace a binary gender, even partially. Gendered pronouns do not exist in their tongue, only being used in cases where common speech needs to be used to refer to certain significant figures, such as a leader. It is also unusual for a goblin to take a lover outside their species, since most goblins live in fairly isolated places and all mate together seasonally, depositing their eggs in a communal nursery pool. Olli stands out on purpose.

Lastly, Sajak, an amphibious person with some fish-like features such as their finned ears and a barely visible dorsal fin. They are holding the genderqueer flag as they stand in a commanding pose, one foot on a rock, one arm held out as if pointing to something below them. This pose is taken from the central Poseidon statue in the fountain of Trevi. Their head, arms, and torso are covered in dark tattoos in abstract designs, and they also have a few natural dark stripes along their arms and legs. The obvious connection between Sajak and this statue of Poseidon is that Sajak is a fish person and Poseidon is an ocean god. If I could have thought of a more medical figure, I may have made a different choice in the art reference. Sajak is primarily a doctor, a healer. They are fairly well known and they were an important figure on their home island, though they did leave eventually. Even so, there is a certain vibe to Sajak that suits the image of a powerful and unpredictable oceanic god. They are steady, intelligent, and careful, but they can become fierce when their loved ones are under threat, and the intense focus they show in their work as a doctor can be intimidating to see. There is a feeling of hidden power within Sajak, just as there is in the ocean when it seems calm. Fish folk, whether bipedal and amphibious or fully aquatic, also fit under my category of "non-mammalian people who are just kind of genderqueer by default due to their biology not fitting into a binary".

[tasloveskk]

Some folklore thoughts 💭🌲✨🏳️‍🌈 

Part 1

 I’m going to take it song by song while also tracking key themes in red! Please also feel free to add in your thoughts in the comments, I’m curious to see what else people think folklore is about...

folklore

‘folklore’ is defined as “a body of popular myths or beliefs relating to a particular place, activity, or group of people.” or, by Steve from Taylor’s IC,”the traditional beliefs, customs, and stories of a community, passed through the generations by word of mouth.” Taylor herself in her introduction/prologue says  “A tale that becomes folklore is one that is passed down and whispered around. Sometimes even sung about. The lines between fantasy and reality blur and the boundaries between truth and fiction become almost indiscernible. Speculation, over time, becomes fact. Myths, ghost stories, and fables. Fairytales and parables. Gossip and legend. Someone’s secrets written in the sky for all to behold.”

the 1

- firstly, it’s the best opening track she’s ever had! 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

- “I’m doing good, I’m on some new shit” = sounds to me like a conversation you have with an ex, like someone is saying “yeah I’m doing great, I’m dating/doing ‘x’” the first time they run into their ex in a while.

-“I thought I saw you at the bus stop” has BIG “this city screams your name” energy but is also very clever by Taylor because Miss Karlie Kloss is ALWAYS on advertisements on bus stops/literal buses around the globe 🚌

- “I hit the Sunday matinee” to me seems like an inside thing, because obviously as the world biggest pop star, if taylor is going to go to the theatre or cinema, she’ll pick the least busy and most filled with older people which would be the Sunday matinee.

- “you know the greatest films of all time were never made” —> the greatest love stories never get told? happen behind the scenes? There’s something deeper here but I’m still forming the cohesive idea!

- “if you wanted me you really should’ve showed” = showed up or showed for the world, either way Taylor wanted KK to chose her not Josh so they could work but that didn’t happen so now she’s left to wonder.

- “roaring twenties” evokes two clear images for me! 1. They were both in their 20s for the entiretyof their relationship, the best years were spent together and 2. The Roaring 20s were a time of independence, pushing boundaries and breaking the rules of prohibition - which is basically what Taylor and Karlie were doing behind the scenes.

- “if my wishes came true, it would’ve been you” = let’s say, ONLY FOR ARGUMENTS SAKE, that Taylor really IS with Toe, that still means that this song is her yearning for someone else who she always loves more AND had to lose at some point. Looking at her past beards “relationships”, there are only two plausible options - Joe (which seems unlikely seeing as they’re still “together”) or CH who she supposedly wrote “you would’ve been the one if you were a better man” about. Either way doesn’t seem like it fits. However, if you look at it as Karlie is the 1, it becomes clear - it would’ve been fun being best friends and lovers for ever baking cookies and dancing around the kitchen, it would’ve been forever if Karlie hadn’t “married” jerk, it would’ve been her and it still is. 💗

- “in my defense I have none, for never leaving well enough alone” & “I know that I went psycho on the phone, I never leave well enough alone” are about the same moment with the same person = she didn’t leave well enough alone because she kept writing about Karlie and re-engaging us Kaylors as well as I’m sure, she kept up with seeing Karlie or keeping tabs on her to the point where it forced someone to reach out to the other.... she can’t apologise or defend her actions because you can’t explain the things you do for true love.

- “I have this dream you’re doing cool shit” aka starting a podcast, expanding businesses, making headway as an entrepreneur and being a highly-paid and respected international model? Seems straight forward 👀

- “you meet some woman on the Internet and take her home” = 1. Karlie is specifically interested in tech and the internet, it is literally her entire business and 2. if Karlie and Tay did break up, then because Karlie is actually NOT married to Josh, she hooked up with someone she met through the internet somehow (probs social media not an app) and Taylor found out this is probably a snarky comment about that from a jealous ex. Could possibly also be about the dream mentioned above. 💔🔐

- “another day waking up alone” = lost her lover, sleeps alone? Bold claim on opening tack.

- “persist and resist” = very famous feminist saying, civil rights/political echo?

- “the temptation to ask you if one thing had been different, would everything be different today” = this what if mentality continues through the album but personally, I think this is about Kissgate.

- “Rosé flowing with your chosen family” = repeats later, your chosen family could refer to Karlie’s group of friends like Derek and Jourdan etc.

- “would’ve been sweet if it could’ve been me” = flipped perspective, wishes Karlie chose her.

- “dragging up the grave another time” = firstly, THAT pin on her EW jacket now makes more sense. second, Taylor has written about Karlie for 4 straight albums now, she hasn’t let their love story die even if they did.

-

cardigan

- “brand new phone” = this is not some story, this is current reality. Taylor hides behind era-specific language and imagery in some other songs but this one is clearly about here and now, and her.

- “sensual politics” to me stands out because only really here and in TLGAD is politics explicitly mentioned and sensual politics to me screams sleeping with someone for political gain or with political connections which certainly sounds like someone...

- “when you’re young, they assume you know nothing” = sounds to me like a lot like a) love story and b) “you don’t know you’re gay, it’s just a PHASE! you’ll grow out of it!” 🏳️‍🌈

- “chase 2 girls, lose the one” = supposedly, when KK and TS met, Taylor was still in love/entangled with Dianna so perhaps she’s reflecting on making the wrong choice?

- CIWYW links: my baby’s high above the whole scene—> heartbeat on the high line, tidbit:as is clear in both Lover & 1989 New York is a sacred place for TS and KK’s love story, the high line is a) a beautiful NYC icon and b) right in between the girls’ two places...

- as mentioned, miss Karlie ELIZABETH Kloss was the brand model for Levi’s and definitely has worn some sequins and black lipstick on cobblestones sooooo.... 🤷🏼‍♀️

- “you drew stars around my scars” = see Drake’s birthday party and the infamous third Polaroid mystery 👀

- “stepping on the last train” could mean one of two things to me; 1. The last resort for KK was marrying J*sh or 2. the last train could represent some goodbye the girls had where KK chose something/someone else over Taylor.

- “peter losing Wendy” is such an interesting metaphor on so many levels but specifically, Wendy loses Peter because she wakes up (from nearly dying but nvm) and grows up and stops believing in Neverland and magic, basically Wendy loses an attachment to Peter because her reality shifts and that’s what gets remembered especially in the Disney version of the story. HOWEVER, the opposite is also true meaning Peter Pan loses Wendy because he can never co-exist with her again, he can never grow up or bring her back to Neverland without either killing her or ruining her. So this idea that someone wanted to change the ending from peter losing Wendy because he had to do what was best for her because he loved her echoes as Karlie didn’t want to marry Jerk or hurt Taylor but had to in order to protect her. Right? 😅

- “leaving like a father, running like water” = Taylor’s parents got divorced and there’s SOME thoughts Scott left the house and Taylor lives with her Mom in Nashville in her teen years.

- “I knew everything when I was young” - Taylor has always know she was LGBT+ 🌈 and also, baby VSFS vibes because as we all know, “we were both young when I first saw you...” send tweet.

- “I knew you’d come back to me” hopefully, HOPEFULLY foreshadows the girls being together/coming out soon !!!!!!! 🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

- music video wise, I’ll do a break down soon.

TLGAD

- ‘Rebekkah’ refers to the previous owner of Taylor’s Watch Hill, RI house, Rebekah Harkness. She was a divorcee until marrying Standard Oil heir William (aka Bill) Hale Harkness, a new-money dynasty was formed in this time from their profit. There are MANY wild, whimsical stories about ‘Betty’ (which is obviously an extended metaphor of folklore)  that this song tries to re-create/recapture.  

- Taylor is also known as ‘Becky’ due to the popular meme so this is quite literally a play on her own character as well as the previous inhabitants of the house.

- St Louis is not only Rebekkah’s hometown, but also Karlie Elizabeth Kloss’. 

- “the wedding was charming, if a little gouche” seems like a direct shot fired at Karlie’s woodsy photoshoot of 2018 😂😂(ironically, folklore’s key aesthetic is the woods!!)

- “it must’ve been her fault his heart gave out” refers explicitly to William dying of a heart attack in the house, but subtly I feel like this is a dig at the media who constantly blame women for things they cannot control, as they have done with Taylor too many times to even count. 

- “who knows if she never showed up, what could’ve been” seems like Taylor is stuck thinking about what may have happened for her and Karlie if things had been different, see the 1. 

- “she/I had a marvellous time ruining everything” is such an incredibly provoking lyric on two fronts, 1. obviously taylor buying her RI house had a massive impact on an otherwise sleepy holiday town that is now more famous for Taylor’s july 4 parties than anything else and 2. seems introspective or personal, as if the things that ruined everything for Karlie and Taylor were the best and most marvellous parts of their relationship (big sur, kissgate etc.) 

- “flew in all her bitch pack friends from the city” is not only about the friends and celebs Rebekkah was notorious for hosting but also Taylor’s ‘bitches and model’ girl gang circa 2015 which includes one Karlie Kloss. 

- “blew through the money on the boys and the ballet” refers to Rebekkah’s love of wasting her fortune on things, including a ballet company that went under not long after she created it BUT also refers to Taylor paying so many boys to be her beards and PR stunts whilst also spending her money on a certain ex-Ballerina. Also remember her AMA’s performance of Lover/ bts of Shake It Off? 😉😉😉

- “50 years is a long time” - 50 seems deliberate, a bit of a reach but note it WAS the 50th anniversary of Stonewall last year. 🏳️‍🌈

-  “free of women with madness, their men and bad habits and THEN IT WAS BOUGHT BY ME.” - this clearly shows that ALL the songs are being narrated by Taylor, some of the lyrics are about her, some are about these fictional or fantastical characters she’s created but there is her truth behind all of them too. 

- “the loudest woman this town has ever seen” = Taylor is undoubtedly the most famous woman in the town who regualrly causes uproar there (see the Sea Wall debacle and the Taylor Swift Tax)

- in all, the two famed women owner’s of Holiday House have many overlaps and are forever intertwined. 

exile

- “i can see you standing honey with his arms around your body” as the opening line is LOUD. to me, feels like this is about ALL those staged photos of Josh and Karlie uncomfortable/fake as hell on social media. 

- “laughing but the joke’s not funny at all” is something we’ve all thought about Karlie’s marriage before and is about that moment where if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry at the situation. 

- “it took you 5 whole minutes to pack up ... holding all this love out here in the hall” to me is about someone moving out of a shared home, like Karlie from Taylor’s NYC apartment, after a break up or fight. We know it is MORE than likely that the girls’ broke up, for a while or for good, in 2017/18. 

- “I think I’ve seen this film before, and didn’t like the ending” is a lot like “Cause cruelty wins in the movies, I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you” / “All of my heroes die all alone.” which makes me truly believe that delicate > the archer > exile are all the progression of the same love story.  ❤️

- “now I’m in exile seeing you out” = both of them have lost their home, exiled from the relationship.

- “I can see you staring honey, like he’s just your understudy” has a lot to unpack. Firstly, see this photo. Second, as a beard, Joe is quite literally Karlie’s understudy - stepping in only to fill a public void or play her part when she can’t. 

- “like you’d get your knuckles bloody for me” is basically this tweet

- “second, third and hundredth chances” - hopefully this means the girls WILL be together again soon!!! 

- “those eyes add insult to injury” - Taylor has often made explcit reference to her lover’s eyes, but this could also mean the eyes of the public on her every move and relationship not allowing her to properly grapple with break ups. 👁️

-  “i’m not your problem anymore, so who am i offending?” - homophobes love to say wlw or mlm relationships “offend” them or their beliefs, so who could taylor be offending if she’s publicly in a straight relationship? 

- “you were my crown”, Taylor was/is Karlie’s princess, if Karlie is gone, Taylor doesn’t feel like she’s a princess anymore. Likewise, Karlie is Taylor’s sunshine which makes the moody, misty, dark aesthetics all the more relevant to this album. 

- “so I’m leaving out the side door’ - this side door? the other side of the door?

- “all of this time, we always walked a very thin line” between outing themselves and being happy? 

- “I gave so many signs” - Taylor has queercoded EVERY album since her self-titled, she has been dropping hints and signs for years that she is LGBT+ so it must be exhausting to have to keep hiding who she loves. This is repeated so many times - it means a lot. 

- written with William Bowery who nobody can quite identify, but Karlie and Taylor have been to the Bowery many times together and William is mentioned earlier in TLGAD

- this whole song is a duet, a two-sided conversation between lovers - her and karlie both without each other. 

my tears ricochet

- Track 5 is, as per usual, deeply confessional, personal, emotive and moving. 😿😿

- there are lots of theories and layers to this masterpiece of a song, including that it’s in reference to big machine. I personally think every single song of Taylor’s is made up of layers that reflect multiple things in her life and experience so plausibly it can be about multiple things all at once including Sco** and Scumbag as well as Karlie, who was under Scumbag’s management for the majority of the decade. Another theory which with every new listen I think is more and more possible is that this is alternating between Taylor and Karlie’s perspectives. 

- ‘if i’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too” whoever is associated with Taylor will ALWAYS be dragged down with her. If she’s being attacked, they will be too. Big 2016 energy. 

- “even on my worst day, did I deserve babe, all the hell you gave me?” could be directed at a lover, or at Big Machine, or even the public for all the shit they’ve said about Taylor over the years. 

- “I swear I loved you ‘till my dying day” seems a lot like the 1, as well as could be about the music and the label she helped build. 

- “I didn’t have it within myself to go with grace.” Taylor was LOUD about her split from Big Machine, she called them out (rightly) and made noise which is not a ‘graceful’ split. 

- “you’re the hero flying around saving face” very easily is about S+S jackasses but deeper than that, while Taylor was under immense attack and criticism, everyone who actually like her music pretended suddenly to hate it and her to stay ‘cool’ 

- “cause if I’m dead to you why are you at the wake?” this lyric becomes especially important in the final verse but essentially those who publicly distanced themself from Taylor still showed up when she was thriving again and/or because they actually truly loved her *uhmm karlie uhmm* 

- “cursing my name, wishing I stayed” either at Big Machine or with Karlie/Taylor. 

- “some to make a diamond ring” > firstly we still have never understood the ring image from the LWYMMD and ME! videos, it is entirely possible this is a continuation of that same symbol/image. Second, I think this hints to Karlie getting ‘engaged’ while still being with Taylor, the rock for the ring in the song was found by the two people gathering stones after all. 

- “you know i didn't want to have to haunt you” both Taylor and Karlie have big reputations all over the world that follow them everywhere. For either one, they will always be haunted by reminders of each other. 

- “you wear the same jewels that I gave you as you bury me” - on the Big Machine side, Taylor made the label professional and big, she is literally the sole reason it succeeded in the music industry so she handed Sco** his fortune and reputation which he still had when he sold her music to Scumbag and got into a very dirty bed with him. From the Karlie side, many people have noted that not only does she wear her black cartier necklace, which is assumed to be from Taylor, but to her ‘wedding’ wore a necklace she’d worn before with Taylor. 

- “when I’d fight you’d tell me I was brave” could refer to Sco** encouraging her in 2016 to defend herself. Could refer to Karlie supporting her behind the scenes. 

- ‘and I can go anywhere I want, just not home” seems like a continuation from exile, as in she’s lost the place she called home because her lover is no longer there but could also mean she can’t go back to her other albums and the house (see the lover music video) that they created as her musical home.

- “you will still miss me in your bones” could be about Sco** losing his money and label without her there to physically support and carry it or about the fact that the love Taylor and Karlie had is so ingrained it’s in their bones forever. 

- “and i still talk to you when I’m screaming at the sky” this lyric has a lot of possible interpretations (i’ve seen one about cursing out God?) but i think it’s similar to “asking the traffic lights if i’ll be alright” as in, it’s Taylor asking the universe to help her make sense of things. 

- “when you can’t sleep at night, you hear my stolen lullabies” suggests a) sco** + scumbag is still haunted by the music they stole from Taylor because it was literally the backbone of the business which is now practically worthless and b) that Karlie is kept awake by the songs Taylor has written for and about her over the years which again were stolen away by the jackasses at Big Machine.  

- “you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same” again, same idea - big machine will never be profitable without her/while they hold her masters hostage. BUT Karlie wise, breaking up with Taylor broke her too? 

- this is where the song changes. it shifts from Taylor’s story to someone else’s, personally I think Karlie. 

- “you turned into your worst fears” as in she settled for the money and sold her values off by marrying Josh. Also, Karlie was under Scumbag’s management for years (part of Taylor’s hatred of him was him keeping the girls’ from doing as they pleased) so by being completely controlled by him, she turned into this completely fake person. Contrast 2014/15 Karlie with 2017/18 Karlie and it so much more all about PR and money. 

- “you’re tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years” - sco** and scumbag have made so many false excuses for their behaviour and completely erased the good relationship between the Swifts and sco**. Not sure yet what the Karlie side is here but it’s here somewhere. 

- in conclusion, this is about Big Machine and Karlie. As the first song Taylor wrote for the album, I think it’s clear just how incredibly multi-faceted this album is. ☕☕☕

mirrorball

- first off, we can never forget about this and this look from both girls. ✨✨

- “I’ll to show you every version of yourself tonight”, the public and the private sides to them both. this is big glass closet energy in my opinion 

- “and when I break it’s in a million pieces” is so personal and heartbreaking. 2016 and Kaylor breakup vibes. I cannot elaborate at this time. 

- “when no one is around my dear” = the secrecy, forbidden love motif returns and again, if she’s in a hetero relationship, what’s to hide? 

- “you’ll find me on my tallest tiptoes”, Just an fyi, Karlie, a giraffe, is 6′2″, Taylor is 5′10″ -- thats a big difference. 🦒🦒🦒

-  “i know they said the end is near” = end of the relationship or the end of hiding it, either way, it’s a romantic last private moment together, swaying as the room burns down. 

- “i can change everything about me to fit in” = Taylor when she was starting out was forced to create this all innocent, american-girl image of herself. She has had to hide herself to succeed, as she said in Miss Americana, she was muzzled. 

- “you are not like the regulars, the masquerade revelers” = Karlie is different to everyone else, or any other ex, ‘masquerade’ implies masked or hidden figures at a party, very Love Story 

- “and the called off the circus, burned the disco down” = the ‘circus’ could be the media/public, or all the illusions Taylor has cast in order to appear straight. The ‘disco’, and Taylor is the ‘mirror ball’ to her lover means that this isolated existence of just the two of them. 

- “I’m still on that tightrope, I’m still trying everything” for now, she’s still closeted, she’s still trying to have the best of everything. 

- “I’m still a believer, but I don’t know why” believer in everything working out perhaps, or perhaps believing it’s better if she’s in the closet and it’s only the two of them. 

- “never been a natural” = she has completely created herself through years off trying to be what people want, not who she naturally is. 

seven

- “picture me” implies this is retrospective of Taylor, she’s reflecting on her childhood/youth. 

- “I hit my peak at Seven” could either refer to the age 7 or album 7, ‘Lover’ which many critics argued was her best work. 

- “Over the creek I was too scared to jump in” = fear of jumping is something Taylor has discussed in many songs but this is different, the creek represents something she fears will drown her.

- “High in the sky with Pennsylvania under me” = obviously, Taylor was born and raised in rural PA, so this truly is a childhood memory unearthed and explored. It’s personal to Taylor, it’s her story. 👏🏼

- “Are there still beautiful things?”  Recognizing the world isn’t all daisies and rainbows 

- “cross your heart, don’t tell no other” = again, secret keeping and hiding something is a big queer image, ‘cross your heart’ is a quite childish phrase but it’s adult equivalent in Taylor’s world is an NDA, ie swearing people to secrecy is something she's always known... 🔐

- “Although i can’t recall your face, I still got love for you” = this childhood love has faded with time to memories, this girl simultaneously forgotten and remembered. 

- “Your braids like a pattern” = definitely about a girl (1996 rural Pennsylvania was not the kind of place where boys had braids), specific use of YOUR pronoun not ‘my’ or ‘our’ suggesting again it’s about a girl. Very obviously about a first girl crush. 🌈 

- “passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long” = firstly, reference to Neruda’s poem Taylor used in the red prologue. second, folksongs change slightly from generation to generation but the heart/melody remains the same meaning that in Taylor’s mind, the story of her first girl love has changed but it’s still the same song/story all the years later. also, clearly a reminder of the setting of the song and the album as a whole being folklore. 💛

- “your dad is always mad and that must be why” feels a lot like Love Story and forbidden love, also again rural Pennsylvania in the mid-1990s was not the most liberal place so I can imagine a lot of homophobic ideas that perforated Taylor’s childhood.

- “I think you should come live with me” is such an innocent image of someone in love and wanting to just fix things by bringing them home, it also is like a baby gay version of uhauling 

- “we could be pirates” = pirates are not just a childhood image/motif but also one historically seen as gay, gangs of pirates often had ‘mateolage’ agreements that basically were like widow’s benefits. See John Swann. ☠️

- “you won’t have to cry, or hide in the closet.” = I think this one is explicitly clear but just to be sure, Taylor could’ve said “hide when he lost it, hide if you wanted, hide in the woods too” etc. Read this for a full understanding of why it such a LOUD image to use.  It is VERY DELIBERATE PEOPLE. 🌈🌈🌈

- “just like a folk song, our love will be passed on” = different from the first bridge but deliberate again. Their story, aka Taylor liking girls from a young age will always be talked about, AND their love lives in this song she wrote.

- “picture me in the weeds before I learned civility” = again, given the homophobic attitude, ‘civility’ and straightness should be read as the same so Taylor is saying when she was a child, free in the grass and herself, she wants to always be. 

- “I used to scream ferociously any time I wanted” = she wasn’t muzzled as a child, she could say and be who she wanted, screaming it aloud for everyone to hear but that changed as she grew up. 

- “pack your dolls and a sweater, we’ll move to India forever” = ‘dolls’ again would imply it’s two girls running away together and India is this exocitc far off place to a child, a place where they can be together without anyone knowing them or controlling them. 

August

- Karlie Kloss is born in August. Karlie Kloss posted yesterday about being a Leo (an August born). August belongs to Karlie Kloss. 🦁♌

- “rust on your door” = image of something well-worn, perhaps someone who’s been here too a few times before?

- “whispers of are you sure?” = obviously there is the sexual connotation, but beyond that, what if it’s about Taylor and Karlie going public etc. 

- “never have I ever before” = see above but also the game ‘never have I ever’ evokes youthfulness and sounds almost like a reminder of a fun night with friends. 

- “I can see us lost in the memory” = implies they’re still together, losing themself in the memory together

- “I can see us twisted in bedsheets” = again, sexual imagery but also the intimacy of sharing a bed with the person you love after sex 

- “Like a bottle of wine” = matures the song a bit, the youthfulness of earlier is now more adult. 21 is America’s drinking age, 20s were mentioned early etc. 🍷

- “Cause you were never mine” = the whole of Taylor and Karlie’s relationship, Karlie has publically been dating Josh so she was never solely Taylor’s. 

- “Will you call when you’re back at school?” = Karlie attended NYU in 2015, the height of Kaylor. 

- “back when we were still changing for the better” = instead of changing to adapt/survive or keep up appearances. 

- “wanting was enough” = wanting Karlie without labels was enough, rather than having to go public etc. Many have said for a long time that Karlie and Taylor fought about coming out or not. 

- “cancel plans in case you would call” = sounds like a very love-sick Taylor Swift thing to do. Also waiting on a lover’s call when they constantly are travelling like both Karlie and Taylor do makes sense. ☎️

- “so much for summer love” = cruel summer echo? Summer 2015 was again, peak Kaylor so this could be a specific reference to that period

- “Do you remember? Remember when I pulled up and said ‘get in the car’” another specific reference, comes up again later in Betty, clearly is something personal. 

- “Back when I was still living for the hope of it all” = back as in the past when everything was happening, hope of it all being the hope they’d still end up together. 

TO SUM UP PART 1:

BENEATH ALL FICTION OR MYTH IS FACT & FEELING. Taylor is no longer hiding. Yes, some of these songs are about stories and people not her but there is so much of herself and her own story layered in too. PAY ATTENTION!!! Obviously, these are just my opinions, I’m not Taylor so I cannot know exactly what these songs are about but I think, after years of analyzing her music, these images/themes and deliberate word choice are well-versed in this part of the fandom. It is entirely possible this is the beginning of Taylor’s full, public coming out journey. 

I’ll be back with Part 2 tomorrow.  Stay Tuned!

[theimpossiblescheme]

A Very Palpable Hit

That long thread with @nonchalantdanger about Roxanne’s skill with a sword and where it could possibly come from finally made me decide to dip my pen (or my keyboard, rather) back into the tiny, but dedicated fandom of Cyrano de Bergerac.  Writing these characters is still quite a challenge, but quite a fun challenge, I think, and this was a fun kinda-sorta prompt to do.  I hope I did them justice, and I hope everyone enjoys this little piece!

Roxanne was pacing frantically to and fro in front of the fireplace in her villa, casting a long pink shadow across the red flames as she turned across the carpet so vigorously she might strikes flames behind her own feet and wear a hole in it.  Cyrano had grown restless just looking at her and was now standing behind the chair he’d been previously sitting in, arms folded over the back and chin propped pensively on his hands as he watched.  All of the Robin family maids, including her Duenna, had been sent away for the evening—it was only the two of them.  And the anxiety in the air could have been cut with a knife.

“I mean, I know it’s considered some sort of—of romantic custom for a man to fight for the honor of his lady love, but we are hardly living in the dark ages anymore, are we?” Roxanne was saying on her fourth lap back and forth, wringing her twisted hands demonstratively as she spoke.  “And besides, I would hardly call it romantic.  No, I would call it barbaric—I mean, at what point does it become less about the lady in question and more about some—some pompous popinjay proving his ego is larger than his opponent’s?  It seems ridiculous that the other preciuses allow themselves as prizes to be one in such a monstrous game, and I refuse to be the reason some poor feckless idiot gets skewered like a prize goose or a bunch of innocent bystanders are slashed to ribbons… I know it’s hardly ladylike, but I say it’s hardly manly to act so childishly on a lady’s behalf…”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Cyrano cut in as gently as he could.  The poor girl was working herself into a sweat, and she hadn’t even come to her point yet.

Stopping in her tracks, Roxanne turned to face him, fully silhouetted in front of the fire… beautiful and terrible, like a vision of Beatrice in the Inferno.   “I propose… no, I demand that you teach me everything you know about swordplay. I do not wish to debut into society a defenseless woman.”

Cyrano was taken aback… and it occurred to him in the same moment that maybe he shouldn’t be.  The girl who had been Roxanne—Madeleine, actually, once upon a time—had always been spirited, proud, and independent.  But she was also fearful, hiding behind him at the first sight of bullies.  Timid and shy at the idea of anything beyond those wide, empty Gascony fields.  Now here she was in the city.  Now here she was… unafraid.  Bold.  Determined to make her way with grace and, dare he say it, panache.

Now she was a woman. He’d known that before, he supposed, and not been nearly so surprised.  But not until now had his heart fluttered so in his chest at the thought.

But he quickly hid it under a smile—not a mocking one, but an understanding one—as he straightened. “So this is your solution.  Not content with the role of Guinevere, you instead intend to fashion yourself as Joan of Arc, a one-woman divine army against these… boastful infidels.”  Painting the image in the air before him with his hands, he wandered forward closer to Roxanne.  “Does that not seem a bit extreme, though?”

“Well, you’ve said so yourself, there are things one does well to carry to extremes!  Besides… you…”  She rushed forward and seemed less divine, but more human as she squeezed his hands pleadingly.  “You have made yourself a hero.  The finest swordsman in your regiment, everyone says so.  And even before then… you were the hero of my childhood.  My knight of the riverbanks.  If I were to ask anyone, it would be you and only you.” She gave his hands another tight squeeze.  “Will you?”

The words dried in his mouth for a moment, but he managed to find them again.  “How could I possibly refuse?”  Cyrano gave her hands a gentle squeeze in return and was relieved to find his own still dry.  “My princess turned page of the corn-silk hair.”  He said it with a joking air, but there was a tender sincerity lingering underneath.

And Roxanne’s face lit up with a smile of her own.  “Oh, thank you!”  She leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “You won’t regret it I promise… oh, I shall need a sword.”

“Here, take mine.” Cyrano unsheathed his rapier and handed it to her before laying his scabbard on a nearby table and reaching for one of the Duenna’s walking sticks from a small rack beside the front door. “This is a bit heavier, but it shall suffice.  But let us take this outside—no use in skewering any innocent inanimate bystanders.” The maids might collectively pin him to the wall like a butterfly if they damaged any of the family’s valuables. Opening the door, he bowed her outside before following into the front yard.  Fortunately for them, there was a gorgeous full moon out tonight, and there was still enough light from the nearby streetlamps to see in case of sudden clouds.  He hung his cloak on the rose trellis and tested the walking stick a bit, weighing it in his hand as he tried a few lunges and basic maneuvers.  Not exactly the finest Italian steel, but it would work just fine.  This wasn’t exactly going to be the sort of rigorous training the cadets went through—with any luck, the worst Roxanne would have to do was smack away an errant hand.

A little ways behind him, Roxanne was doing the same thing, twirling the rapier over in her hand and swishing the blade back and forth like a machete in the jungle.  “It’s much lighter than I thought it would be.”

“It needs to be—it’s a weapon of grace and agility, not necessarily of brute force.  Keep that in mind as you wield it.  And now…”  Cyrano lowered into a crouch, makeshift blade at the ready in front of him.

Roxanne’s eyebrows shot up. “You intend to throw me into the deep end so quickly?”

“A fish learns to swim by the same principle.  Advance, mermaid of Orleans, and let us see how much you already know.”  Swinging the stick up in a salute then down to his side, he waited for Roxanne to copy his movements before waiting… waiting for her to strike first.

Eventually she did, dramatically lunging forward toward his shoulder, but Cyrano deftly blocked her. Roxanne backed away to try again with the other shoulder, but met the same result.  “You’ve learned to thrust, to disengage, and to re-engage well enough, I see… let us see how you deal with this.”  Swinging his stick around again, he feinted toward her free arm, then raised up to land a hit on her opposite shoulder.  The whole time, Roxanne followed his hand with her eyes, her sword bobbing vaguely in that general direction, but not raising it quick enough to fend him off.  As she stumbled back, startled, Cyrano lowered his stick again.  “That was called a feint—a maneuver designed to mislead. You anticipated the feint so much that you missed the hit.”

“But how am I to keep up?” she asked, holding her shoulder even though Cyrano had barely tapped her. “You move so fast, I can hardly see.”

“For a start, try not to watch my hand.  The hand can deceive, as you’ve just seen… look here instead.”  He tapped his chest.  “Then let your eyes unfocus a bit—it will allow you to see your opponent as a whole, not just the nearest moving parts.  Now… shall we begin again?”

Roxanne nodded, sinking into her best crouch to mirror Cyrano, her body leaned forward instead of back.  “Do not try to go easy on me.”

“Oh, perish the thought, my dear.”  And this time he moved first, moving toward her shoulder and then to her arm in a reverse of his last maneuver.  This time she caught on, catching his stick on her blade and trying to push him back, but he was quick with a riposte, pulling back just far enough to tap the side of her hand.  Unfazed, she pressed forward again—a breach of the rules of engagement, but he’d allow it for now—trying in vain to land just the slightest touch on him each time he parried.  At one point, Cyrano dropped his stance the slightest bit lower and thrust toward her shoulder.  When Roxanne lifted her guard up to parry in turn, he dropped his posture even lower to level his stick just at her collarbone.

Falling back a step, the sword almost dropped from Roxanne’s hand as she stared tremulously down at the hit he’d scored.  “Well, I… I did tell you not to go easy on me,” she said with an uneasily flickering smile.

It was all he could do to keep firm, not to dissolve instantly in the face of her fear.  He’d regretted the hit as soon as it landed, and yet…  “That may be a worse case scenario.  God willing, you will never meet a man with such cruel intentions.  But make it a lesson as well.”  Taking her hand and tightening it around the pommel of her sword, he raised it up again at the level of her chest.  “Keep your guard level for as long as you can.  Too high or too low, and you may end up with a terrible cut to show for it.”  Straightening to his full height again, Cyrano gave what he hoped was an encouraging look.  “Shall we try again?”

Nodding resolutely—more to reassure herself than him, he suspected—Roxanne took her stance once more. Cyrano struck first again in a quick lunge, but she caught it flat and spun it away in a bit of a flourish.  A grin flashed across her face before she was back to business once more and they fell into their slow, but steady routine of thrust-parry-riposte, thrust-parry-riposte, with an occasional respite of some new maneuver that he would patiently guide her through. Roxanne was sent retreating more often than not, but every so often she would gain some ground.  If she got too cocky, however, and started bouncing back and forth like an excited puppy, Cyrano quickly put a stop to that, flicking his stick down to her waist in a light hit.  “Your footwork is merely a steady tempo, not meant to ornament the passage.  Keep yourself even and upright—small steps, but never so many in a row.”  His own form didn’t stick so strictly to those guidelines, heaven knew, but it was very good advice for a beginner.  Instantly chastened, Roxanne nodded, and they started again.

This time, Cyrano squared his chest toward her, hoping she would take the bait.  As she went for the attack, he stepped to the side and almost caught her square on the inside of one shoulder… but to his amazement, she saw the feint and dropped her arm in that spare split second, blocking his blade within inches of her sleeve.  Pushing him back a few steps, their routine continued—thrust-parry-riposte, thrust-parry-riposte, thrust-parry-disengage this time-parry-riposte.  Thrust-parry-disengage… Roxanne swung her sword forward in a broad cut, Cyrano waited for the right moment to press his attack… and she stepped to the side and fairly jabbed at his shoulder in a triumphant shove.

“Ha!”  She lifted her sword over her head like a gladiator expecting cheers from the Coliseum.  “Victory at last!  I hope that was… oh—oh, no…”

Cyrano tried to smile even as he muffled the newly bleeding cut under his hand.  “Yes… true blades tend to elicit this sort of reaction.  It’s very shallow, you needn’t worry—”

“But I am worried! Oh, Cyrano…”  Dropping the sword in the grass, Roxanne rushed forward and urged him to sit down next to her.  “I ask you to teach me to fight, and I thank you by stabbing you… let me see it, please…”

“It’s barely a scratch, Roxanne, not worth so much fuss… call it well-deserved revenge for my earlier hit, I suppose.”  But Cyrano obliged, loosening his doublet just enough to lower the shoulder of the shirt underneath.  It was indeed a relatively shallow cut, but long and already deep red, like the nick of a shaving blade.  Roxanne immediately pulled out her handkerchief to try and staunch the blood, and Cyrano could only hope and pray she couldn’t feel how warm his skin had suddenly grown there under her touch.  He almost made a comment to lighten the mood about her old fits of motherly sternness, where she would scold him for earning cuts and scrapes like these in fights against the big boys… but the words dried in his mouth again.  They didn’t feel right.  Not now.  This… felt different.

“I am so sorry,” Roxanne was saying, alternating between keeping pressure on the cut and wiping away the blood.  “You told me to be so careful, and I’ve been such a reckless oaf, and you’ve been so patient… can you forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive.”  Catching her hand, he lowered the handkerchief away before quickly letting go. “This… unforgivable sin in your mind is merely an accident in mine.  And this accident may be taken as a sign of improvement.  It was, after all, the first hit you landed upon me.”  No, not the first… but he didn’t dare say that out loud.

Her response was a very strained, guilty smile.  “I suppose so… I only wish I hadn’t been so rough.”  She raised her eyes to meet his, and her smile became a little more genuine. “Thank you… if for nothing else, for being so patient with me.  I know I shall never be as good as you.”

“In a single evening? Impossible.  But good enough to defend yourself against the common ruffians of Paris and prevent a glorified cockfight on your behalf?”  He offered a new smile of his own, something finally approaching those lightning flashes of audacity that often struck him.  “Undoubtedly.”  Offering Roxanne a hand, he climbed back to his feet and picked his makeshift blade back up.  “And while we still have moonlight to spend, we might as well make the most of it… shall we continue?”

“Are you sure?” she inquired, picking up her sword again.  “With your shoulder?”

“My shoulder has withstood much crueler and more purposeful assaults—I shall survive.”  Sweeping the stick up in a new salute, Cyrano angled his body toward Roxanne’s once more as he sank into his stance.  “Lay on, good saint, and show me God’s wrath within your woman’s fury.”

With a salute of her own, erect and self-assured, Roxanne pressed on.

[legobiwan]

Whumptober #7 (isolation)

TW: none

Fandom: Star Wars (Padmé Amidala, Count Dooku. Yes, you read that right.)

Notes: So, this happened. Probably some suspension of disbelief is necessary for this whole conceit, but it’s more of a character study than anything else. Also, damn do I love writing Dooku he’s such a creepy shit I love him. Alright guys, LET’S. GET. WEIRD.

—–

“The galaxy is an open wound, my friends, and the Republic is the infection which must be lanced if we are to secure a future for your homeworlds. Make no mistake, the bureaucrats in the Galactic Senate care not for your governments, for your banks and farmlands, for your schools and businesses - except in how they may extract what they need, as a parasite feeds on its host. Alone, in isolation, you will suffer, will bleed out, and when the Republic has taken their fill, they will discard the empty, pale carcass of your beloved cities with barely a thought.

Together, we will rise, will fight the corruption of a self-indulgent galactic government which cares only for its own appetites. Together, we are the Independent Movement for Self-Determination, the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Together, we will throw off the shackles too-long endured by our masters on Coruscant, and secure a prosperous future for generations to come.

Thank you.”

The auditorium erupted in applause, students, professors, and government leaders rising from their apple-plush seats, a wave of sentients cresting like the tides on Varikyno.

Padmé slipped out the back door, soft hood of her violet cloak pulled low. The Count would have felt her presence already, would have known with a single tilt of his head the invitation had been accepted, along with the rules of engagement. Still, it would not do for a high-ranking, high-profile member of the Galactic Senate to be seen attending a political rally of an enemy of the state. (The enemy of the state, she reminded herself.)

The restaurant was a few blocks to the east, tucked away on the top floor of a small shopping complex boasting a holobook emporium and a few fashionable clothing outlets.

A perfectly understated setting.

Padmé paused, taking in her reflection in the glass storefront, her cloak draped across her shoulders, falling long to the ground, fabric bundled in little hills and valleys in the fashion of the local populace. Her eyes were hooded, fuchsia irises settled beneath furled, copper eyebrows.

She barely recognized herself.

Anakin would be furious if he knew what she was doing.

Anakin was furious a lot, these days.

Right now, however, her husband was deployed on the other side of the galaxy, leading a campaign against General Grievous and his endless armies of battledroids. There was no need to worry him with her extracurricular activities, not when his life was already on the line every day, when blaster fire singed his long, brown hair and lightsaber welts branded his tanned, strong arms.

No, Anakin didn’t need to know. Not about this.

Her chrono chimed. 19:20. Just enough time to make a cursory sweep of the restaurant. Padmé reached into the satchel hanging off her shoulder, her hand drifting past holobooks and data readers - all innocuous items, typical for a graduate student out on a night on the town.

She slid a hand under Alone Among Many, feeling for the second, hidden pouch, her fingers closing around the handle of a mini-blaster and a signal disrupter.

Right, then.

Padmé took a steadying breath, laying her other hand on her upper abdomen. It twinged in an unfamiliar, uncomfortable sensation.

A silver-haired head glided past in reflection of the window. Padmé counted, one second, five seconds, ten, finally turning away from her own strange image, following Count Dooku up the dimly-lit stairs.

———

“An interesting choice of disguise, Senator. You seem to have quite the flair for clandestine work.” Dooku sips at his wine, blood-red, glistening in the wide-mouthed crystal glass.

“A Senator’s work is rarely confined to an office suite,” Padmé counters, raising her own glass to her lips, suddenly very aware of the bright, copper hair falling from her hood.

Dooku chuckles. “Ah, if only more of your colleagues felt the same way, my dear. In fact, I imagine you might be alone in your singular dedication to your work and your people.”

“There are plenty of other Senators who devote their lives to - “

“And I daresay,” Dooku interrupts with a hint of irritation, “you are in close contact with those few sentients who possess the ability to see past their own gluttonous ambitions.”

A question hidden in an offhand comment. Pure diplomacy, pure politics. Padmé excelled at this aspect of her job - reading subtext and hidden meanings in a curved word or the inflection of a comma.

She allows the silence to stretch, taking a lingering sip of her wine as she glances around the dark room.

Dark wood-paneling complements the deep green of the wall coverings, the edges glimmering with the tasteful application of bronzed borders. It’s an understated kind of affluence, the kind which comes as naturally as breathing to those brought up in a certain station.

Anakin never was able to dull his rough edges, as uncomfortable as a purrgil in the desert at any function requiring more than two pieces of silverware. Obi-wan, ever the diplomat, had nearly everyone fooled, all soft charm and etiquette. But even he wasn’t raised in this culture, this world of unspoken rules where customs are less taught than absorbed.

In this, she shares common ground with the man across from her.

“I doubt you extended this invitation to hear idle gossip from the Senate. What do you want?” A tactless approach, but Padmé is already growing impatient. She is alone, on a foreign planet, ruled by an enemy government, sitting across from a man who would just as soon see her and everyone she loved dead.

“You are mistaken, dear girl, but I will allow the false assumption to continue for the time being.” Dooku neatly folds his hands on the table, leveling his gaze at Padmé.

“I want to negotiate.”

Padmé meets his eyes with equal intensity, the gears in her mind spinning.

“What makes you think I would barter the future of the Republic with a terrorist?”

“Because you have done so before.”

It’s said without ire or malice, but Padmé feels the words as blow to the stomach. They both know to what Dooku is referring, the debacle on Mon Calamari, only a few short months ago - how she allowed General Grievous to go free in exchange for a single Jedi.

Her Jedi.

Padmé swallows, her throat dry. “Perhaps I’ve reconsidered my position.”

“Doubtful, seeing that you are here, on Reena, sipping wine with the most wanted man in the Republic.” Dooku spreads his arms with an easy, false smile.

She doesn’t respond. She doesn’t need to, the evidence of her presence in the restaurant is damning enough on its own.

“You prefer diplomacy. As do I, Senator.” Dooku continues, waving his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “And in the spirit of said diplomacy, let us return to the seemingly unimportant matter of the idle, chattering gossip in the Senate. As you stated, you are devoted to your job, to your people, to the foundations on which the Republic was built.”

Padmé nods, careful. So far nothing Dooku has said is wholly disagreeable, even if the man himself is.

“And you have made certain connections with those who share similar viewpoints, no? A wise move, if I may say so myself. To rock the proverbial boat takes a singular strength of will, but to move oceans around said boat requires the strength of many. As you have witnessed over the past few years.”

The war, the secession. From Dooku’s point of view, it makes sense, but Padmé cannot condone the pointless bloodshed, the death and suffering brought about by the desire for change.

Dooku leans forward, voice lowering, conspiratorial. It takes all of Padmé’s considerable control to not recoil.

“You don’t trust the Chancellor.”

Her leg jerks, knee hitting the table with a muffled thud. The movement disrupts the wine glasses, red liquid sloshing back and forth, little bubbles coalescing on edges. Padmé smooths her expression in a second, hoping Dooku can’t hear the pounding of her heart in her throat. She hopes he mistakes her reaction for anger.

“I will not sit here and be accused of treason - “

“And you are right to, Miss Amidala.”

Dooku speaks just loud enough, with just enough will to silence Padmé. She wonders if he is using a small compulsion on her, as she is never one to back down from an argument. The thought sickens her, leaves her nauseated. It’s a rank violation, to be forced into silence by another man.  

“The Senate is corrupt,” Dooku continues as if nothing has happened, although his words gain urgency. “But no one more so than Chancellor Palpatine.” The Count pauses, his eyes darting to the side, a rare concession to discomfort, to perhaps even fear of retaliation.

“An understanding between two groups, whose primary aim would be to end the war with as little bloodshed as possible, might be a proposition worth considering. Especially if they were to be on opposing sides of this conflict.”

Padmé’s mouth dries. How could he have learned any of this? Yes, she and few other Senators harbored worsening doubts regarding Palpatine’s mounting powers, his extension of the war, his seeming reluctance to engage in even the most rudimentary diplomacy.

But they had only met a handful of times and - if there was a mole in their group, an double agent…

She straightens, chastising herself for falling prey to Dooku’s manipulations. “You are mistaken, Count. The Senate trusts the Chancellor.” After a beat she adds, “As do the Jedi.”

“The Jedi are fools,” Dooku hisses, hand tightening around the stem of his wine glass. Padmé swallows a smug grin.

I can play this game, too, Count.

“Unless you have anything else to add, I believe our negotiations have come to an end.” First lesson in negotiation - make the other side reveal themselves first. To be honest, she’s not so interested in Dooku’s response. The game has played long enough, and the urge to leap from the table is real. She needs to get out of here, needs to get on a transport, get back to Coruscant. Needs to contact Anakin, hear his voice, needs to not be alone.

Dooku says nothing, taking his hand to his chin. 

Padmé stands in an abrupt movement, throwing her satchel over her shoulder. She halfway considers reaching into the bag and pulling out her blaster. Dooku’s death wouldn’t end the war, not even she is so naive, but it would certainly slow the seemingly inexorable march of the Republic towards destruction.

She abandons the idea almost as quickly. Dooku was, at one point, a Jedi, and he can still call on the Force, even in its corrupted and dark form.

She would be dead before her hand even touched her weapon.

Padmé turns to leave when she hears the words.

“You’re alone, you know.”

Her lips purse, teeth grinding against each other. She should leave. Not all negotiations are successful, and rule two is to know when to walk way from the table, in this case quite literally. 

She can’t let it go, however.

“I have the Republic. I have friends in the Senate. Family whom I love.”

If the words are shaky, if they are shadowed by doubt, it’s meaningless, only the stress of an invitation she should have never accepted.

“I can feel it, Senator. The blank void, the ragged edges where it was ripped away. Something used to be there, and now there’s not. And that nothing is growing, a virus inside you.”

Padmé’s hands shake.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Something rustles. Suddenly there is a presence at her back, an insidious warmth and she realizes Dooku is a mere breath from her, soft words hot on her ear.

“I know isolation, Senator Amidala. I was raised on the teat of it.” She feels every sharp consonant in her bones. “You reek of it, that terrible elixir of misplaced affection and desperation.”

Dooku’s words root Padmé in place, her feet bound by ice, her mind by fire. It’s not true, it’s never been true and yet the accusation pulls at a loose thread in her chest, the one that unraveled every time Anakin demanded she turn down a social engagement, or spoke of her in a way which crashed past the boundaries of romances into possession.

Dooku steps closer, somehow still not touching her, a gesture for which she is both grateful and disturbed. If the Count’s motivations had been more base, more carnal, his accusations would carry little weight, but she knows he leers only to add gravity to his words.

“*He* is the cause of your isolation, Senator Amidala. I can feel it in you,” Dooku whispers, barely audible, his lips hovering a molecule removed from her skin, silver beard a whisker from her uncovered head, so still Padmé almost believes he has stopped time itself.

Her knees buckle when he steps back.

“Do consider my proposition, Senator,” he all business again, as if the last few minutes had never happened. “It would be a mutually beneficial arrangement, in more ways than you can fathom.”

Padmé readjusts the satchel on her shoulder and rushes from the restaurant, not looking back, nearly knocking over a server droid in her panicked haste. She does not tarry on Reena, piloting her starship with reckless speed back to Coruscant, as if a pack of Lothwolves were chasing her across the stars.

It was nothing. Manipulation, and she curses herself for almost falling prey to it. She’ll be back on Coruscant tomorrow, she’ll get back to work, she’ll meet with Mon, have dinner with Leeth, organize her next speech, perhaps do a bit a charity work...

She will not be alone. Not anymore.

legobiwan does whumptober

[atdelilah]

as per request: HEY THERE DELILAH WHAT’S IT LIKE IN ASHMONT CITY anyways what’s poppin y’all, it’s ya girl jalynn, back at it again with ya new girl delilah whom i based off of a mixture of the gotham city siren gang (aka catwoman, harley quinn, and poison ivy)!! i’m very excited to throw her at yall

i guess the easiest way to dive in is to just explain her backstory so here goes:

she is the youngest of two girls, and her parents own/run the biggest catholic megachurch in the state so. she’s rich, she has an image to live up to

as expected, that plan flops

her older sister, abigail, very much fits the “good christian daughter” mold, but delilah is just way too curious, and asks “why?” in the middle of church service way too often to even get close to fitting that image

yes, our girl has had problems with authority and being told what to do from a very young age

naturally, her parents were hating this very, very much and this is how the seed of a very bad relationship with your parents is born

but on the bright side! delilah and her sister were close as could be, two peas in a pod when they were kids!! they were basically polar opposites in terms of personality (delilah being the kid who will ask “why?” every time you speak vs abigail just respecting authority because what else was she supposed to believe?)

that was basically how her early childhood went. her parents wanting her to be more like abigail, delilah being like “okay anyways”, and abigail being angel girl that her parents loved the most

so then comes middle school (a tough time for everyone), and stuff in delilah’s life is either hitting the fan, or taking root so it can hit the fan later

the first thing to hit the fan: her relationship with her parents. at this point, delilah figured out that no matter what she did to be her own, her parents would never stop wanting her to be a clone of abigail, so honestly? she just stopped caring about their opinion altogether

they already were set in their belief that she was disappointing, and annoying, and just too much, so why not just do what you want anyway? that’s delilah’s thought process

she just blatantly started ignoring their rules, really. she started questioning her faith in more targeted ways, she started finding ways to sneak out of the house, and went out of her way to break her parents’ “no dating” rule

also it’s important to note that delilah went to an all-girls’ k-12 catholic school and she HATED it. she snuck out because she just wanted to hang out and go to normal schools like all her rich, non-catholic neighbors. plus her mother worked at the school, and delilah took any opportunity to just do the exact opposite of whatever her mom asked of her

basically, delilah liked finding ways of reclaiming her autonomy and personal identity because her parents’ worked so hard to try to take it away from her! it’s at this point where we see her begin to do things simply because they make her feel powerful and independent! middle school, am i right

the biggest downside to this is that it starts causing problems between her and her sister. with delilah being in middle school, and abigail being in high school at the time, it’s already obvious that problems would arise just due to the differences in age. but the differences between the two only became more evident as they got older; abigail was constantly ready to go tell on delilah, and delilah was always taking jabs and saying abigail didn’t have a mind of her own. arguing was a regular occurrence. the sisters still 100% loved each other, for sure, but it’s a tough age phase they’re going through, plus there’s just no such things as siblings that don’t argue.

now we’re in high school, another horrible and weird time for teenagers across the nation, but especially for our girl delilah

her parents are so beyond sick of her at this point, really. the only reason they haven’t completely cut her out is because it wouldn’t look good if they did r.i.p

delilah stopped going to church altogether, she’d gotten busted on her escapades multiple times (not that she cared, really), and the “no dating” rule was just.....so beyond ignored

the seed had been planted when she was in middle school, but when she got into high school, delilah just completely embraced how pretty she is. boyfriends, girlfriends, flings, sexual partners; you name it, she was doing it. she didn’t really know she was gaining a lil’ heartbreaker reputation because honestly? outside of the whole power trip it gave her, she was really just having fun ahdgashdgsdj

( small disruption to say drug tw here )

big downside to high school: in the midst of her constant sneaking out and rule-breaking, she fell into some things and people that she shouldn’t have, and by her senior year (17/18 years old) she’d developed an addiction to a small variety of drugs

like any addiction, it did have big effects on a lot of aspects of her life. her grades (which she generally took pride in) were slipping massively, and all of her relationships (friends, romantic, familial aka with her sister) were falling to points that were nearly beyond repair

abigail, being the big sister she is, was extremely upset about the whole situation and basically convinced their parents to check delilah into rehab and they were on board with the plan, not because they cared about delilah’s wellbeing, but because the way she was spiraling was a liability to their image in their eyes

so now delilah is 18, she’s graduated from that k-12 all-girls school (no longer at the top of her class), and is promptly checked into rehab, we love this for her! but she absolutely hates the whole thing, so .

she didn’t hate the literal getting off of drugs, but what she hated the most was that she felt like she’d proven her parents right. to her, it was one thing to let them just assume the worst about her; it was a whole different feeling to actually give them something as big as this to root their assumptions in.

but that (plus the underlying desire to not worry her sister) was enough for her to take being rehabilitated very seriously. she did what she had to do and was out by the beginning of the next school year! probably one of the first times in her life she actually followed instructions from authority figures, honestly. but she told herself she was doing all of it because she wanted to, not because she had to.

also just something to add, it was in rehab where delilah got super into poetry and reading and classics!! it’s not like she had an abundance of things to do at her disposal, so she picked reading as a hobby to pass time but ended up being really into it. it was one of the first times where she felt like she had a purpose in life outside of living to fuck with her parents asjdhaskdjha

fast forward, we now have senior year college girl delilah!! she’s 3 (going on 4) years clean off everything she was addicted to!! we love this for her determined queen

she’s also worked really hard to rebuild her relationship with her sister and they’re back on very, very good terms. she’d do anything for her sister, period

but delilah is still delilah, she’s still a lil heartbreaker, she’s still hard-headed as ever, and she’s still got a variety of other things to learn about and grow through but i don’t wanna talk all about it here and make this longer than it already is asjdhakjsh onto the next part!

personality!

+ independent, dedicated, passionate, sensitive but lowkey she’d rather die than admit it or show it

- stubborn, prone to isolating herself mentally/emotionally, self-sabotaging, good liar but she considers this more of a skill to use here and there

100% will do anything for the people she loves......now that list isn’t necessarily long but. once you’re on that list, you’re On that list

the investigation.....

okay so basically delilah is 100% anti-daisey

she didn’t really know daisey too well growing up and didn’t really care to asdjkhasdkjh but they were both in rehab at the same time so they officially met then

but daisey enjoyed picking at delilah’s little insecurities and also talking shit about her sister, and like the picking on her was like "eh i don’t like you" but talking shit about abigail? l m a o

basically if delilah hadn’t been so determined to be on her p’s and q’s in that rehab center, she woulda beat daisey’s ass, and that’s point blank period

plus delilah just didn’t like daisey’s attitude or anything even aside from how daisey treated her specifically, like just the way she treated others turned delilah off of her

so yeah when daisey turned up missing delilah was just like that....is not my problem 😗

when daisey turned up dead delilah was like damn 😗 sucks to suck r.i.p though

i’m not saying delilah killed her or anything but i’m just saying. delilah’s got a short temper and probably had to be held back anytime daisey said anything funny about abigail (which was all the time bc like. it’s daisey)

and the whole killer on the loose sending messages thing creeps her out but like. she’s very much a go with the flow, look at the big picture kind of girl so she’s just. trying not to let it phase her too much

connections!

y’all already know i’m not picky about anything just throw an idea at me and we can make something shake

and i think that’s about it? like this, or hmu or anything if u wanna plot i’m really excited for all of ur characters to talk to the kid!! also can u guys guess which gotham city siren i pulled the most inspo from (admins not allowed to guess bc u guys already read my app)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 037: More Hallway Encounters

Previously on BnHA: Aizawa taught an entire audience of people how to respect women. Bakugou faced off against Ochako. Bakugou tried to blow her up, but she very nearly outmaneuvered him with a masterfully played strategy that culminated in 3 tons’ worth (apparently) of floating rubble nearly smashing him to bits. But in the end he managed to defend himself with another explosive blast, and she was too worn out to continue.

Today on BnHA: Bakugou tries to get me to ship him and Ochako because he knows I’m weak. Ochako tries to make me cry because she knows I’m weak. They all fucking know. Fucking shit. Kirishima arm wrestles Tetsutetsu because this series gives the people what they want. Endeavor stalks Deku in a hallway and tells him to fight Todoroki seriously since it’ll be a good test of how Todoroki would fare against All Might. Deku is all FUCK YOUUUUUUU but not really, but basically though. Then Todoroki and Deku get ready to fight.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 82 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

“MIDORIYA AND ENDEAVOR”??!!!

OHHH MANNN. LOL THIS WOULD NOT PAN OUT IN A NON-COVER SITUATION, THOUGH. SHOUTO WOULD HAVE HOPPED ON OVER TO ALL MIGHT AND DEKU’S SIDE IN A FLASH

Deku seems really distraught that Ochako lost

Present Mic seems even more distraught

thank you Aizawa for keeping some semblance of impartiality

so now the first round is officially over and there’s going to be a short break before the quarterfinal round

I sure hope you’re ready, Deku. also, based on the title, maybe keep an eye out for Shouto’s psychotic dad who’s been making a habit of trolling people in the hallways today

OHO A WILD BAKUDEKU MOMENT APPEARS

HAHAHA

I love how they both go “!” when they see each other

I also like the face Kacchan made for like .001 seconds before he shifted into the DOOM face

lastly, I love Deku congratulating him after a brief moment of hesitation. like, he didn’t have to do it -- in fact, oddly enough, he risked pissing him off by doing so -- but you can see he wanted to, or like at least didn’t feel right not doing it lol

and then he walks off like a total weirdo

EXCEPT HE DOESN’T MAKE IT VERY FAR BEFORE KACCHAN HOPS UP THE STAIRS AFTER HIM

THESE TWO NEVER LET ME DOWN

I’M TRYING NOT TO POST EVERY SINGLE PANEL OF THEM, BUT JUST. LOOK AT DEKU’S FUCKING FACE HERE

anyway so now Deku, tell him that you didn’t suggest a damn thing. even though you tried to you sneaky sneak

and he is doing just that

giving her all of the credit. just like she fucking deserves

“so if it really was a lot of trouble for you... that was Uraraka”

and now Bakugou is dotting like he doesn’t quite believe it

BELIEVE IT, BUSTER

AND DON’T FORGET HER NAME, EITHER

whew! back to the stadium! Bakugou, you better get out here too if you don’t want to miss your rivals’ deathmatch

everyone from class A is heckling him as usual

I like that none of them are really scared of him at all. he’s only been at the school for about a month, and you can already see the difference that it’s made

Kaminari is saying that Bakugou should have held back against “that frail little girl”

uh. were you not paying any attention at all to Aizawa’s speech in the last chapter my dude. come on man

BAKUGOUUUUUU

LOOK, YOU. I CAN’T SHIP YOU AND OCHAKO BECAUSE I ALREADY SHIP HER AND IIDA, AND YOU AND DEKU, AND MAYBE TODOROKI IS CONFUSINGLY WEAVED IN THERE AS WELL, AND KIRISHIMA SEEMS TO BE VERY FOND OF YOU ALSO! ANYWAY I’M GETTING SIDETRACKED, BUT WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY IS THAT I SURE AS SHIT DO SHIP YOU GUYS AS FRIENDS, IF YOU EVER WERE SO INCLINED TO FEEL LIKE POSSIBLY MAKING A FRIEND, YOU OLD SOFTY

AND ALSO MAYBE I DO SHIP YOU ANYWAY GODDAMMIT

RESPECT WOMEN, EVERYONE!!! IF THIS ASSHOLE CAN DO IT SO EASILY NONE OF YOU OTHER FUCKING CHARACTERS HAVE ANY FUCKING EXCUSE

OCHAKO IS AWAKE!!

Recovery Girl has already healed the majority of her scrapes and burns/bruises! she’s so great

Ochako is also great

“darn it!” omg. I fucking love you so much. you did so fucking great, please be proud. and you earned my asshole son’s respect, which you should know takes a whole fucking lot. he sure as shit doesn’t give that out to just anybody

moral of the story: all you have to do to earn Bakugou’s respect is nearly kill him

I’m glad Ochako’s not getting too down on herself, even though she’s disappointed! I mean, she should be a little disappointed, because if she wasn’t, it would mean she didn’t care at all and wouldn’t have a reason to keep pushing and improving for the next time. but like, she’s doing it productively and not getting all depressed and shit

ohhh! Present Mic’s voice is coming in over the loudspeakers! he’s talking about Kirishima versus Tetsutetsu! right -- I forgot all about them

lol are they really gonna arm wrestle? you know what it should be -- good old rock-paper-scissors

although now I have this mental image of the two of them just endlessly picking rock over and over again

anyways, they are indeed arm wrestling

AND KIRI CRUSHES HIM LIKE VELVET

THAT’S MY BOYYYY

AWWW HE’S EXTENDING THE HAND OF SHOUNEN FRIENDSHIP

LOOK AT THESE GOOD BOYS FORMING BONDS OF RESPECT IN THE SPRINGTIME OF THEIR YOUTH

ANYWAY. TIME TO DIE NOW, DEKU :’D

-- oh my god Ochako is calling her dad

I can’t handle this fucking shit

what the fuck are they trying to do giving me feels out of nowhere when I was unprepared and expecting to jump right into the Deku vs Todoroki fight for crying out loud

her parents are so proud and encouraging!

they’re saying it was really close. Ochako says it wasn’t. well, it wasn’t super close, but she put up a damn good fight and she nearly had him for just a moment

her parents are saying it’s not the end of the world and she can try again next year

they’re saying it’s no rush

oh my god Ochako

then silence for a sec... then they say she doesn’t have to push herself just for them

fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkk

omg. what the fuck. like, I already love her?! so why do they keep...?!!!

I don’t know what else to do with these feelings about this girl lol. she tried so hard and did so well and she lost and she’s disappointed but her parents are so encouraging and she wanted to do well for them but they’re telling her it’s okay and just. I HAVE MENTIONED SEVERAL TIMES THAT KIDS TRYING HARD AND FAILING IS A TEAR TRIGGER FOR ME OKAY fucking shit. fuck. okay

whew. okay

fuck and Deku’s still within earshot. YOU SCOOT ALONG THERE, DEKU. LET HER BE. YOU HAVE A SAD BOY WITH DADDY ISSUES TO FIGHT

-- DEKU IF YOU CRY TOO I SWEAR TO GOD

-- HWHOWHKHL

OH MY GOD THE DREADED HALLWAY ENCOUNTER AT LONG LAST

I GOT SO CAUGHT UP IN THE OCHAKO FEELS I COMPLETELY FORGOT AND I LET MY GUARD DOWN

Deku is freaking out

this is the number two hero in the world, after all. he probably has so many notes about him. he probably would have asked him for his autograph just like he did when he first met All Might... if this encounter had taken place literally at any point before today

Endeavor is complimenting him on his quirk

“in terms of power, it seems on par with All Might’s.” hahaha. funny you should say that. what a funny coincidence huh

so is everybody and their fucking mom going to figure this out before this is all over, or

Deku is trying to storm off “innocently” and it’s just. the single most suspicious thing anyone has ever done

also, I hadn’t thought about it before, but when he thinks to himself that he has to keep it secret from Endeavor more than anyone... yeah. just think about what this asshole would do if he knew it was possible to gain All Might’s quirk. look at what he’s already done to his own child(ren??) just in order to surpass him. not only is he a piece of shit, he’s a very scary and powerful piece of shit

speaking of him being a scary and powerful piece of shit

welp

it’s amazing how he just goes and independently verifies everything Shouto already told Deku about him without being prompted. like if Deku had any doubts at all -- which of course he wouldn’t have, but if he did -- you have to assume that’d all be completely wiped away by this single page

he’s telling Deku to give it his all

well it’s not like he’d have any other choice, given how powerful Shouto is

now Endeavor’s walking away

but Deku is hitting him up with one of his trademark slightly-time-delayed Honest Shounen Responses!

“I’m not All Might...”

oh SNAP

YEEEAAHHHHHH. SUCK IT ENDEAVOOOOOOR

I’ll say it again -- if and when Todoroki wins, it’ll be in spite of him, not because of him

now the kids are finally facing off in the ring!

MY GOD but I love me a good fucking tournament arc :DDDDDDDD

BONUS:

well if it isn’t Todoroki “fuck you” Enji

he’s 45 years old omg

-- then just how fucking old is All Might?!

after a moment’s consideration, I’m still willing to date All Might if he’s 45

also, he looks damn good for 45. if he really is 45

I’m glad he isn’t part of the U.A. faculty, seeing as he’s an irredeemable sack of shit and U.A. doesn’t need any more of those. bad enough we have to put up with Mineta

“I hope to eventually portray exactly why that is” no need. for some things there’s just no excuse. again, see: Mineta

(ETA: although I assume it’s actually because this superhero society is so systematically fucked up and prioritizes just about all of the wrong values. like, I get that, and I can understand how he ended up being such a garbage person. but it doesn’t excuse it, nor does it excuse his being an abusive father and husband not to mention a just-this-shy-of-confirmed rapist to boot.)

also I’m kind of mad that he’s so good-looking without his flame beard and mustache. I suppose Shouto had to get those looks from somewhere

also also, “he can switch them on and off but typically leaves them burning as a flashy show of power” -- exactly like Vongola Primo! how fitting, since Primo is also a giant sack of shit lol

yeah I’ll just end this recap right there on that sick Vongola Primo burn okay bye

[differentkindapiratemovies-blog]

Reflections

Overview

I really wish I had given myself more time this year to really develop a lot of my projects but due personal issues I ended up not being present at a lot of most of the classes and workshops although I still believe I have completed most of the work independently to the best standard I could. I tend to deal a lot with creative bock due to over thinking and this year was by far a real challenge for me. I really overcame a lot of problems I have when it comes to working on projects. I struggled a lot with the majority of what I had and wanted to do even though a lot of it is stuff I have done before in my life. I like to think of myself as very resourceful when I don’t have a lot on hand and not a lotta time. I pride myself at being able to look at what I have around me and create something out of it. My work this year often involved only one other person to be my subject of whatever it was I was working on and other than that I tend to be my own writer, director, crew, producer, everything.  It’s not that I am against working with others but I get very bad social anxiety, partially when I have a certain idea in mind and really want to find people on the same wave length. I find it very easy to talk to my best friend who appears in almost every piece of work I’ve created throughout this year. She’s helped me a great deal in getting my work completed and letting me just kind of tell her what to do however going into next year I really want to meet new people and collaborate on projects even though I’m apprehensive. However I still pride myself on being a truly independent filmmaker and I would like to learn every single aspect of the process so I can become and unstoppable force of creative fuck.

I like to work in a physical sketchbook and although I believe I have shown all the relevant information from it here on the blog I feel as though that the book itself is the real blog, where I keep everything from inspiration and influence and personal ideas for movies and projects and of course all my many class notes and theory I’ve caught up and studied over the last few months. I work entirely in this book, I bring it everywhere I go and is a huge part of development of ideas and has a lot of information in it from the philosophical side of creativity to the practical. It’s very important to me to do things my way and keep everything together as my projects tend to over lap especially if there’s several being completed in a short space of time. With this year I believe it’s important to see my work as a whole and also represents the kinda rag tag way I tend to work. Things get messy when I come up with a bunch of different ideas and my sketchbook for this years work defiantly represents that. It’s filled with every little thing I write down. I’ve always worked in a big A4 sketchbook and I always will I think. I feel that my blog does not represent fully what the sketchbook is full of however I think I have accumulated the most relevant sections. The book itself is filled with all my ideas from the terrible ones to the ones I am actively pursuing. You can find pages from it in my blog.

I keep thinking of the things I would have done differently but I’ve truly had a break through this year by at least finishing the projects and learning to not become so obsessed with something that it leaves you stagnant. I wish I had more time to really explore and develop my work such as my moving image work, which is my main passion. I wish I could have really made something that ticked all the boxes but I did what I did with the best I had. Overall I have a lot to learn still and want to get better at my craft and I can’t wait to go on to the next year where I can hopefully really begin to flourish. I would have done a lotta things differently and I made a lot of mistakes. My ideas tend to go bigger than what I can actually practically pull off which I’m aware is a normal part of creating, especially in movies. As well as the feeling that what you make doesn’t 100 percent turn out how you wanted it to be, but I understand the process of learning from one project and moving on to the next one.  I tend to do things my way and am very persistent about that although I don’t feel this gets in the way of experimentation which I certainly did this year.

Photography

Three Studies of a Woman in the Sun. Three portraits of my friend and artist Katie Russell. Shot on a Canon 600D RAW I wanted to capture her identity through three images. The middle image you see in the three panels on my blog is her in a natural environment and utterly neutral. That one is relatively light feeling due the summers day behind her however she's looking off and something implies it’s more melancholy than the photo lets on. Perhaps the uplifting summer isn’t enough to hold her inner more negative emotions or that maybe the summer is no longer a good thing with it getting hotter and hotter each year. Maybe this isn’t a summer of celebration, but one of the end of the world. The bottom one is a real captured moment of her closing her eyes perhaps to imply her shyness in an industrial area, somewhere I often find comfort due to high containers and is generally aesthetically pleasing to me almost because of how not pleasing it is. The top one is how Katie would usually be and dress in her own environment, the lighting highlighting how she expresses herself through her own image. I like how the darkness is almost bleeding in around the edges of the photograph. I experimented with lighting a lot with this one and took several different photos that were the contender for the third portrait. Here, now she is herself, seems to project more confidence looking directly into the camera like this time the camera is invading HER space as oppose to the other ones where she’s almost apart of the scenery. Now she’s outta the sun she is the one who is shining. Notice how also she seems to fill up the frame more more the more comfortable she gets.

I missed my opportunity to use the photo studio or learn about it during the workshops or take some really good crafted photographs I feel but just like all my work I did the best with what I had. I really wish I could have learned to use black and white film. I also would have really liked to do something maybe more elaborate with costumes and big lights perhaps something more in line with Cindy Sherman however I would never pass up the opportunity for raw photography, which is my favourite kind. I consider raw photography to be as real as you can get it without too much manipulation of the subject and no manipulation once you’ve taken your photos. I enjoyed it although I don’t think photography is something I would do on a professional level. I enjoy taking photos a lot though.

Web Media

Web Media if defiantly my weakest part of the year. Not only do I find it frustrating and boring I have no interest in ever using websites to tell my stories or anything else unless it’s in the form of a kind of blog which I did do. I thought the narrative aspects of the module was interesting however web media is for sure not for me and I hope not to revisit it at any point. However I still had ideas and can appreciate how creative you can be with it. Originally I wanted re-tell the story of Odyssey through minimalist squares however that wasn’t really possible for me so I decided that it would be a chose your own adventure with a more artistic and low quality edge that would give it a pleasing aesthetic. This is the only project I really collaborated with someone on, having my friend to help me with the technical sides of coding however came up with the whole idea and development.

Moving Image

During film production I tend to take on every role including camera man, directing and sound and of course I always come up with the ideas, from script development to on the spot changes and ideas. Everything but being in front of the camera which I have even done as well. I consider filmmaking to be my main practice.

In addition to researching all the different roles the filmmaking process demands I also she a scene related to a bigger structure. On the scene from The Great Hydration War script that I wrote myself I did my best to make every shot tell us something. I played around a lot with power dynamic and it’s constantly changing. When our main character thinks they are in control the camera angle is low, making them seem large and powerful, but when the villain gets the upper hand you’ll see that they have the power. When they are both pointing guns at each other you’ll see that they’re both at the same level and share the power of the scene because it could go either way. Jazoor, the main character from the script, sees a figure. Unsure of who it is we see them in a wide, impersonal and unidentified. But when they stand up and Jazoor realises that it’s her twin from back on Earth. “It’s you!” Jazoor exclaims. With what she knows she gains the power to deal with the situation. She’s got this. However she’s flooded with doubt; “You sure?” Says the Dryborg, an evil futurist cyborg whose one weakness if water. The camera swoops up, leaving the character feeling vulnerable with no idea what kind of situation this is. Then she brings up her gun, bringing the power back to her. I did this throughout the entire scene and tried my best to make sure I was expressing the characters feelings and positions through the angles even though obviously it’s quite a non-sensical script and sort of ridiculous scene. I thought about the lighting as the scene was based on an alternate reality Earth in the past where the sun is blue so I made sure all of the scene were glowing in this blue light which I managed to do in post. As for the costumes me and my friend, who played the character, helped design it. I wanted something si-fi esque but obviously I had no budget and not a lot of time so I decided to try and take the comedic route and make it have more charm than actually trying to make the audience buy what was going on. The scene is a pivotal part of the larger structure and story and that I had written but the storyboards for the scene were in fact drawn before I wrote it.

For the scene I shot it on my trusty Canon 600D DSLR I’ve been using for many years. It’s trust worthy and takes footage so it works for me but I’d love to use something more professional and something closer to the industry standard. I like the cameras available at the university but sometimes its just much more practical to use your own camera but for the in coming year I really want to learn a different range of cameras and shoot on them. With more time and the same opportunity as other students I could of created something of a higher standard, perhaps something longer also.

Conclusion  

I feel like I could have done a lot better with all of my projects and made them to a better standard and quality and with more meaning if I had been more personally okay this year. I’m very passionate about my chosen subjects and like to think I’ve had several break throughs this year with my work. I am quite proud of some of the things I’ve created, particularly the ones I created for other modules, the short films Campussies! And HELLo. Everything I make has either not to do with politics or is anti-politics.

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON AURORA’S MAIN VOCAL SONG HYEJUNG…

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME:  N/A CURRENT AGE:  28 DEBUT AGE: 23 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 18 COMPANY: Midas ETC: This member has become known as the nation’s ideal type for her extensive photoshoot work

IDOL IMAGE

Before seeing talent when she was scouted, Midas Media saw marketability; someone who held themselves with a pristine grace, who had an almost ethereal, celestial quality about them, and would, in turn, reel in the masses with poise, sweet visuals, and later on, the voice of an angel. It was no secret that a past Miss Korea candidate would be someone that knew how to stand before a crowd with confidence, and likability, but her backstory of coming from the country, especially from more humble beginnings, only continued the narrative that they wrote for her the entire time with which she trained. Instead of someone who would appear more bombastic or quirky in nature, she was meant to be almost unreal—a source of light, a calming presence, a gentle whisper in a room full of explosive voices, someone who was meant to display maturity, and a sure sense of self. Being that she’s amongst the eldest girls in her group, they wanted her to portray herself as something of maternal figure: doting upon and caring for her group-mates, encouraging them to do better, providing wisdom and guidance, as well as being the foundation to what the group existed upon. It was a lot of pressure put on her, but luckily, she fell into it somewhat naturally. After all, she had younger siblings, so she was used to being a caretaker.

As time went on, though, she had managed to create an image that was almost hell to keep up, especially now that she’s been gifted the title of the ‘Nation’s Ideal Type.’ Despite her shortcomings in dance, and her minimal vocal flubs due to exhaustion every now and again, she is revered as a member who is overall well-liked; her charitable nature, overall saccharine sweet disposition, and warmth when dealing with other people have made people believe that she isn’t necessarily human, and that is wholly her own undoing. Instead, when she is seen acting out of character, people are quick to attack her, and it’s left her sitting in pools of anxiety. In short, she’s terrified of making a mistake; of being too tired to don a smile; of falling short; of standing center during performances when she’s not hitting high notes; the list seems almost eternal. How on earth is she meant to continue on the flowered path she’s made for herself when too much is expected from her? She’s old enough to understand her role in the industry, and works to continue in good graces, but the pressure is growing to be too heavy for her to carry. Will she ever be able to make a mistake, and rise from it stronger? Or will she perpetually live in fear that she’ll appear too ‘human’ in one instance and become the nation’s new punching bag?

Only time will tell.

IDOL HISTORY

1998.

A little girl is in a seated position behind the welcoming desk at one of Busan’s most popular hot spring spas, her mother turning to shush her every once in awhile as she helps the guests who’ve come to enjoy the exotic, relaxing facilities the resort offers. With dolls clutched in each hand, Hyejung plays out a scene where the pair of them are apart of an idol duo—the two of them performing to her favorite songs by S.E.S., and other similar acts that she’s seen on television. Coincidentally enough, she’s named one of her toys Eugene after her biased member in her current favorite group, and often has told her family that she wants to be just like her someday.

Lost in the fantasy, the little one begins to sing along to the melody in her head, the song ‘I’m Your Girl’ by the aforementioned group having been played to death on cassette at her house, and instinctively, the older turns around to tell her to quiet down, but it’s in that moment when a man from beyond the counter—a patron of the spa—offers her a compliment on her voice; its high-pitched, treble quality nowhere near perfect, and honestly even a little grating at times, but his sweet sentiment made her feel almost electric; invincible. It fueled her with the confidence that she needed to not only sing louder, but to put the dolls down and perform herself; her silly actions causing him, and her mother, to smile and chuckle along with her.

This was one of the first memories that she has of performing to bring joy, and to make people smile, and from that point onward, she would do it all of the time. Whether it was on-stage at her school’s talent shows, or in the privacy of her living room with her little brother and sister, Hyejung never ceased an opportunity to show people the ‘talents’ that she possessed.

2002-2005.

She remembers staying up on many rainy nights listening to her mother wallow in despair; the woman who’d been there to support her, and to love her, now in shambles as a note was left upon her bedside table—one penned by her father. For years now, he had been struggling with a gambling addiction; one that left the family searching for loose change in the cushions of their couch to help with late bill payments, and who left the woman of the house picking up multiple jobs to keep a roof over their heads. No matter how much she tried to, Hyejung couldn’t make her mother smile like she used to—whether in song, in jokes, in playfulness, her elder was in too deep of a depression that nothing brought her joy. All of her hard work had all been for nothing, and although she felt extremely defeated, she ended up having to move herself, and her kids, in with her parents—both of whom were retired, and owned a house near the port. This time of growth, and transition, left the oldest Song sibling feeling as though she was responsible for her brother and sister, and she vowed that she would always take care of them.

As she grew older, Hyejung was essentially the caretaker of her home. She would not only become a guardian to her siblings, but she would prepare meals for the household, do housework, and whatever else she needed in order to ensure that everyone was well taken care of. It was a lot of responsibility to place on someone of her age, but she knew that she had to contribute if she wanted things to slowly return to how they used to be; if she wanted to see her mother smile again. Throughout this process, though, she was focusing so much on everyone else that she was now beginning to lose her own sparkle. Instead of emanating joy, she was turning cold to the world that she once loved; to the dreams that once made her feel hopeful and whole.

2008.

After getting permission to start her first job at a port-side restaurant near her house, Hyejung had never been more exhausted in her life. Truly, she had no idea how she was managing both work, and school, but it was something that needed to be done, and she was focused on getting by no matter what the cost was. However, what she didn’t know was that this was the year where she would be faced with one of the hardest decisions that she’s ever had to make, and it would force her to continue to grow up at a rapid pace in comparison to many of her peers.

As she closed up one evening, she happened to leave the café door open, and serendipitously, she was overheard singing along to BoA’s ‘Everlasting’ as it played on the stereo; the man who once complimented her singing in the past returning to her under a new guise. Neither of them recognized one another at first, but as he explained that he was a chair on the board for Miss Korea, she became intrigued. All of her friends in high school would tell her that she had the looks to compete in the annual event, but she never believed them; thinking they were joking around, or being far too kind to her, since they were her closest comrades, but when a stranger began to mention that he thought she should compete the following year, she wasn’t sure what to make out of all of it. Could this have been a peculiar way for him to hit on her? Was he playing some sort of cold trick of some sorts? She truly had no idea, but the more he talked to her, the more she listened to him; nodding her head, digesting the information, and trying to decide on the best possible way for her to reply. Instead, she told him that she’d think about it, and with that, he let her be; not wanting to take up anymore of her time.

When she arrived home with the story to tell her relatives, all of them were completely excited; perplexed that she was taking this in such a calm, collected fashion. All of them agreed with his sentiments, and no matter what she tried to say to them to simmer them down, they were very insistent that she look into it. After all, maybe it would be good for her if she learned to gain self-confidence; if she became something of a celebrity; if she was given the attention that she hadn’t given herself over the last few years. The first step to doing so would be to take the crown in the Miss Busan-Ulsan region, and from there, she could be as good as gold.

mid-2009.

This was the moment that she’d been talked into for months now, and even though her family didn’t have any money to give her to assist in the purchasing of dresses, makeup, and what-have-you, they offered an abundance of emotional support, and guidance. Not only that, but Hyejung, her mother, and grandmother, all worked together to create the dresses that she would wear—all sewn by hand, and the machine that belonged to the household. It took months for them to agree on one that made her shine the most for the final phase of the competition, but once they did, they were confident in her abilities. Not only were they impressed with her outer appearance, but also with what she’s prepared for the talent competition. Being that she was unable to afford a proper singing coach, she studied the craft independently at home; watching countless videos about improving technique and performance, and even recording herself on her phone so she could listen back, and correct her mistakes. Sure, it wasn’t as accurate as having someone with a trained ear listen and critique her, but she made due.

She always made due.

When the moment finally came, though, she was incredibly nervous. She’d never been in front of a crowd of this size before, and even then, it was minuscule in comparison to the national competition that she had her sights set on. While she had expected this, and knew that it was going to be daunting, she hoped that, once the lights hit her, she’d be able to forget the nerves that resided in her stomach; forget what was on the line, and just exist; just be in the moment.

The few hours that she was there was a total blur, one that she barely remembers to this day, but she must’ve done something right, for she was given the crown, title, and a one-way ticket to Miss Korea training camp in Seoul. She only had a small ten days to gather her belongings before taking the train to the capital, and they, too, flew by in the bat of an eye. It was hard for her to kiss all of them goodbye; to be on her own, and to worry about how things were going to be without her; the codependency she felt towards her loved ones worse than ever before. She couldn’t help but feel afraid of every possible outcome.

Afraid of potentially failing. Afraid of not being there for her family. Afraid that she wasn’t as beautiful as everyone said she was.

When she departed, and eventually ended up where she was meant to reside for quite awhile, she had her first taste of separation anxiety in years—the last it happened was when her father left she, her mother, and siblings, behind. It negatively affected her standing in the camp, and more often than not, she would rush to a phone to call home whenever she could; lamenting to them about how she wasn’t sure she could handle this. Their words meant so much to her, and though they hated to hear how upset she was, they knew that giving up would only make her feel worse. It was during this time when she learned to lean on the girls she bunked with—her competition—whenever she needed a shoulder to cry on. Not only that, but all of them were in the same boat, too. All of them were being told that they needed to lose inches from their waist, to receive plastic surgery procedures, to ditch their humanity in exchange for physical beauty. It was a hard-knock life for the duration they were there, but when the final thirty-two women were selected, and her name was one of them on the list, it all somehow felt worth it.

The heartache, the missed sleep, the harsh words… all were worth it to know she had made it this far; that her charms, her charisma, and her assets carried her to the national pageant.

It was there, though, where she failed to make it as the winner, or a runner-up, and it hurt more than anything in the world, but as always, she made due.

She always made due.

late-2009.

A surprise came knocking on her door, once again, though, and it helped rouse her from the soul-swallowing depression that she’d experienced from July to September. While she returned back to work, and her day-to-day life once again, she wasn’t expecting to be greeted by yet another person who had a deal for her, but this time, it was from a representative from Midas Media—one of the current entertainment powerhouses in all of Korea. They had seen her in Miss Korea, and were pleased with her visuals, and her talent portion, and were curious to know if she’d be interested in auditioning for their company privately. It seemed like both a blessing, and a curse, and she took awhile to respond to them; thinking long, and hard, about whether or not she wanted to be subjected to harsh criticism, sleepless nights, and emotional turmoil all over again. After all, the last time she put herself on the line, it didn’t necessarily end in her favor, and she was reminded of that almost every night before she drifted off to sleep.

Before she knew it, though, she was aboard a train to the nation’s capital all over again, and she had no idea what was about to transpire, but she did her best to remain as strong as possible.

What did she have to lose anyway?

Once she arrived, Hyejung did her best to paint on a smile; to portray herself as they once saw her on their television screens. If there’s one thing she learned how to due from the pageant training camp, it was to put on a mask when all else failed. When she performed for them, they all agreed that, while she wasn’t perfect, and lacked proper training to hone her skills, she had the potential to be great—which is exactly what they thought of her in Miss Korea, too. What helped her case even further, too, was that she was beautiful—a girl who was almost a carbon copy of the woman who birthed her back in 1990. With that in mind, they decided to offer her a trainee position, but it would require her fully relocating away from the home she helped build up until this point; the one that held her heart, and the one where she felt safe, and so, so loved.

She hesitated for quite sometime, but after she was urged to by her mother, she agreed to start learning beneath them, becoming their pupil in that moment. After a few weeks back in Busan to pack her belongings and say goodbye to everyone, she was off on her own just before her 19th birthday in October—her heart being pulled in many different directions, and she truly didn’t know whether to be excited for this new chapter, or to be fearful of the unknown.

Much like the training she had already been through, this one wasn’t much different. In fact, it felt even more competitive than before, but she did her best not to allow some of the others to intimidate her, or make her feel insecure. She knew she wasn’t the best singer, and she knew that she certainly wasn’t the best dancer, or rapper, but she was there to learn; to make the most of her experience, and even if she didn’t début, it’d only be more experience under her belt. If performing is what she wanted, maybe she’ll discover that she should’ve started here instead of there. Eugene didn’t wear a sash and tiara, anyway, and that’s who she aspired to be like. Hopefully this wouldn’t be a waste of her time in the end.

2010-2013.

“You still have trouble with your breath support.” “The pitch on your top notes still isn’t good; you’re flat.” “How come it looks like you have two left feet when you dance?”

Believe it or not, these comments still don’t burn as badly as the ones Hyejung was given during the days leading up to the pageant. She took these in stride, and worked harder; viewing this much like she did her restaurant job back home in Busan. If she had a bad day, she needed to learn from it, and keep pushing forward. If she was tired, she needed to drink extra americanos until she felt revived. Instead of being berated as time went on for not being thin enough, or not having the most angular jawline in all of South Korea, she was only truly judged for her growth as an artist. Sure, she was put on diets occasionally, and she added more time to her workout routine, but overall, those things helped her cope with the stress of the uphill climb to the top.

As weeks turned to months, and months into years, she was beginning to realize that her voice was her strongest suit. Even when it wasn’t at its best, and when she made mistakes, there was a confidence there that she didn’t possess when it came to dance. Time and time again, she was pulled aside by instructors and told that she was dancing too fast for the beat, or too slow, or that she wasn’t adding crispness to certain movements, or softness to others. It was a lot to wrap her head around, and she seriously wondered how professional entertainers were able to both sing, and dance, while on-stage. It took all of her focus to do an eight-count, much less do that, and focus on ensuring that her vocals were pristine. The earlier part of her lengthy training adventure was definitely the hardest, and she despised that she felt so inferior—especially when compared to the girls who were so talented in all-fields; the quadruple threats who’ve worked hard for this since they were children, and had a magic about them that she didn’t have.

One and a half years in, she almost threw in the towel.

The weight of continuing on a path that led nowhere was growing heavier, and heaver, by the millisecond, and she didn’t think she was strong enough to support it. Due to overuse of her voice, it had become hurt one too many times, and without even having to diet, she’d lost so much weight from the constant dance lessons that she felt frail. It was taking such a dark toll on her body, but she knew that she needed to persevere. No matter how battered and bruised she was, especially in spirit, she couldn’t imagine all of this turning into a waste of time. So, time and time again, she picked herself back up, and pushed onward.

“Your breath support has improved a lot. Keep it up!” “I didn’t realize you could reach such high notes, Hyejung!” “You’re still not the best we’ve seen, but at least you’re not the worst anymore.”

Two years in, critiques started to shift—the knowledge she’d gained from her instructors paying off. Of course there would always be room for improvement, and as an artist, she knew that she would never be a master of anything—she’d always grow, and always work towards new goals—but at least she knew she was evolving; that she worked hard enough to be praised.

2014-2018.

Right before she took to the stage in February, she recalled what all had transpired for her to reach this moment; remembered how much blood, sweat, tears, and phone-calls to mother went into the making of her début performance.

Her final evaluation was her most grueling, and even there, she had managed to make mistakes. How on earth did she forget a few steps in her choreography? Why did she start singing the second verse before the first? What got her by was the fact that, instead of faltering beneath the slip-ups, Hyejung continued—she made it work. It was a song she’d come to love after its release; one with an upbeat, sweet sound, and a three semi-tone climb to the highest belted note that’d be great for showing off range—both emotionally, and in terms of vocal height. It was a title that was released by her favorite soloist of the moment—one belonging to MSG Entertainment—in 2013. ‘Good Day’ had become almost a mantra to her, especially at this stage in her career. Whenever she was faced with adversity, it was an anthem she played to bring a smile to her face, and she was glad that she had chosen it to woo the team who would later place her in Aurora’s final lineup.

The first few promotion cycles all seem like such a blur now, but despite the harshness of online commenters, she’s made it out mostly unscathed. While a few have a few choice words about her age, and others constantly point out that she’s not the most sharp while dancing on live shows, one pleasant thing is always agreed upon—the fact that she’s the frontrunner for the best vocalist of her generation. It’s a sweet gesture to be considered as such, especially when she shares similarities with other girls that are her rivals, but altogether, she knows she’s still in development, and will forever work hard to continue to prove herself. One thing she doesn’t recall so fondly, though, was her group’s starting concepts. While she didn’t find the innocence, and the whimsy, too intense in the beginning, it was slowly beginning to grow old; her maturity in conjunction with the role she’s meant to portray vastly different. As time drifted on, they began to ditch the fresh-faced, schoolgirl look and grew more into the women they were; which she was happier with.

After all, no matter what she was faced with, she always made do.

2019.

“Five years after début, and Hyejung still can’t dance.” “Her voice is overrated… I don’t get why people think she’s so good.” “Her visuals have always been so plain to me. I don’t know.”

Five years under the spotlight, and she’s exhausted. Little-by-little, she could feel herself fading and it’s all because of how long she’s subjected herself to a life of limited freedom; a life of caring far too much, and feeling inferior. Five years under the spotlight, and she’s still not where she’s expected. It’s wearing on her, and she feels as though no matter how hard she tries, she’ll always be made to feel as though she’s not good enough.

“No wonder she lost Miss Korea…” “Nation’s Ideal Type? Are you kidding me?” “Is it just me or does she seem tense on stage?” “She really does bring the other girls down. She can’t dance.”

Five years of keeping up an almost perfect, immaculate public image, and she’s being consumed by anxiety—gnawed away at by second thoughts, and by other people’s opinions. What if she says the wrong thing? What if she uploads the wrong photos to Instagram? What if people catch her actually being human for a change?

Five years into her professional career, and her talents have plateaued. She’s almost too busy to attend private lessons, and work on her choreography, but she still paints on a smile, and prays that she’ll be okay. She has to make do. She has to make people smile.

Five years into being an idol, and she wonders if she made a mistake.

The answer is yet to be determined.

[shalaena]

I am a fangirl. I have been a fangirl of various things in my life, usually celebrities. I mean, what teenager doesn’t have that singer or actor they absolutely can’t get enough of?

Recently, though, I started fangirling a different sort of people. It all started with Chantelle Atkins. I was reading her articles for Author’s Publish, loving all of them, then one day I came across her Facebook page and started following her. I loved her book covers so much and I wanted to know who’d done them. It took me a good while to build up the courage to message her. I mean, come on, at this point I had little stars in my eyes over her work and I had this image of her in my mind of being this fabulous author while I was piddling away as a nobody.

So, I asked her who did the work. She directed me to Jakeart1. Chantelle and I continued to chat after that, and I think we’ve established a nice business relationship as well as personal. We go back and forth helping each other out, you’ll see in her own words how I assisted with her rebranding.

That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t fangirled a “real” person.

I asked Chantelle to add a little something about her own experiences with connecting with myself and with other authors. Here is what she had to say!

As a self-published author, getting the word out about your books is key. The key to everything! Because it’s so difficult, time-consuming and potentially expensive to do this, I try to keep my social media sites as active and engaging as possible. When I first started my Facebook author page, for instance, I was hesitant. I’m an introvert at heart and didn’t know how or what to post to engage with people. It’s been a few years now, and I’ve started to get the hang of it. Better yet, I truly enjoy it! I have to say, my Facebook page is my favorite place and I would hang out there all day if I could. Engaging with readers and other writers in this way is essential for indie authors. Making contacts and connections is vital and a lot of fun.

 One of the best things I ever did was submit articles to Author’s Publish magazine. I think a fair amount of my likes on Facebook come from doing this. This means the majority of them are other writers, but I think this is great. You can’t imagine how lovely it is to receive messages from people who have read and enjoyed those articles because something in them resonated with them. 

 What’s even nicer, is when those people stay in touch and go on to become a real online friend. Someone who reads and reviews your books, shares your stuff and offers advice when you need it. Shalaena is one of those people for me, and one of the biggest ways she helped me when we first started communicating, was with the revamp of my blog/website.

 At the time it was in dire need of a makeover and focus. Shalaena told me about a course she was on, where she had learned about making a blog more focused and driven in order to draw in the right audience. She helped me to think about the aim of my blog and also; who were my target audience? What did all my books have in common? What did I write about and why? Over a few weeks, with Shalaena’s help I transformed my blog from Chantelle Atkins blog to The Glorious Outsiders, which I am tremendously proud of. My books are about outsiders, those who don’t fit in and don’t even want to. This was the common theme and once I realized this, the rest came easily.

 I’ve made other connections with other writers for different reasons too. I once noticed an author who had added her books to the same ‘themes’ as mine in iAuthor. This made me jot down her name and at a later date I looked her up on Amazon, then found her on Facebook and messaged her page. I told her I thought her books sounded similar to mine in content and couldn’t wait to read one. She was so lovely and surprised to hear this, and even more so when I posted again after reading one of the books, which had met all of my expectations and more. Kate Rigby is now a great friend of mine and we have even met up in real life. It’s so lovely when this happens! I like to think we also support each other, by chatting and by reading and reviewing each other’s books. 

 Survival as an indie writer is, for me anyway, dependent on other writers, on the whole community. It’s full of lovely, vibrant, brave and unusual people. They are the people who didn’t give up when one door was closed to them. They carried on anyway, honing their craft, learning from others, doing everything themselves and making great friends in the process. My top tip to anyone about to embark on independent publishing? Make connections! Reach out to people. Help each other. 

I mentioned being redirected to Jakeart1. I immediately followed her page and went through her works and, you guessed it, became a fangirl. I commissioned two pieces from her—the front and back covers for The Worst Dyrkon. The whole thing was friendly and professional. Even though I didn’t ask her to, she bought and read my first book, Those Who Wander. She loved it, and even made some fanart to go with it! (No, I don’t own the prints, they are hers!)

The Dauntless encounters the Screaming Cliffs

Tsingsei “Song” in the crow’s nest

The most recent fangirling I did was over an artist in a World of Warcraft group I’m part of on Facebook. Miss B.R. Soule. She’d started a comic series called The Adventures of Grimory and Anarchaia. A demon hunter tasked by Archmage Khadgar, with aiding his apprentice in her research within Suramar. Soule believes in fanservicing (drawings and literature just for the fans and often by request). I remember messaging her, asking about posting stories on tumblr (I admit I’m still fairly new to it!). I shared my story with her, which she’d inspired by writing a short story for her characters, and she said mine put hers to shame. (I don’t know where she gets that crap, she’s a fantastic writer!) Upon discovering I was published, she asked me to edit one of her pieces. I’m going to use the term “edit” loosely because, to be honest, there wasn’t much to actually do. Because she’s a fantastic writer. (If you’re reading this, shut up and accept that you’re fantastic.) From there I joined her Discord channel and I fangirled all over the place, in secret, because seriously, just look at her work! Look at it!

One day, we joined in an RP chat session. And we had a lot of fun for a few days, just having our characters cause trouble in this tavern with one other RPer. About the same time, we thought about how much fun it would be to write a story with our characters and an actual storyline. We made our own server and started writing A Lesson in Patience, each in turn and controlling our own characters. I’ve never had so much fun writing. Ever. In just one month we finished 160,000 words of story. The first part is 44 chapters long! Yes, I’m planning on compiling it—with the art that accompanies it—for fans to purchase as a paperback at print-cost (no profit to the writers because it is a fanfic and we do not own the world it takes place in).

We’re still writing.

Every day, the first thing I check on my phone is if she has posted. I stop in grocery stores to post replies. She takes every second she gets during her busy work schedule, to write out her posts.

What have we gained? Quite a bit, actually. She is essentially getting free lessons in writing, as well as that much needed “write every day” practice. As am I! She’s working with an author and editor, who doesn’t just tell her something is wrong, but I tell her why. I’m learning things from her as well. Words I’d never known before that for some reason she knows (seriously, I thought it was ‘knock’ and arrow; I never would have double checked to find out it’s nock). She’s also been working with me a lot with drawing. I never would have tried digital art if it weren’t for her. As it turns out, I’m a lot better at digital work than I am with paper and pencil (traditional). And she is there every step of the way, even drawing on my own screen captures to show me how I can adjust the image when I’m absolutely stuck.

I don’t know how she feels about it, but I also gained a best friend in her. This is a person who can make me laugh when I feel like crying. When I’m having a bad day, she brightens it just by being there. And it sucks that we’re so far apart, because I would give anything to hug her and tell her to her face that she is one of the most important people in my life now, and I won’t give her up for anything.

So, go out, fangirl a “real” person, rather than a celebrity. Message an indie author you like or an unknown artist from tumblr that you follow. Because I guarantee 100% that they want to hear from you. Hell, I’d love to hear from a fan who is just bursting to tell me what they think of my books or art.

Indies love to hear that someone out there cares that they are working so hard to provide content for fans to enjoy. It keeps us going. It proves to us that we are doing something right. It also encourages us when we welcome in that dark storm cloud over our head that tells us we’re a failure, that tells us we should have gone traditional (and then most of us remember that we got rejected from traditional publishers and that’s why we’re indie).

Go forth, my friends, and fangirl. Then message those you fan over, because you just might find your new best friend.

  As always,

Stay Abstract ❤

The Benefits of Fangirling “Real” People I am a fangirl. I have been a fangirl of various things in my life, usually celebrities.