#which would Also free up a fine arts class that i could use to take art or media production or something

[merriclo]

i’m over the goddamn moon rn i just found out i might be able to get out of taking a third year of coding let’s fucking gooo

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling the truth about punching my stepson?

I am a 29 year old gay trans man. I recently married my husband (51M) and have been trying to bond with my stepson (21M). My husband raised my stepson alone from when he was 10 when my husband's ex-wife stepped out of the picture, and they are very close. He didn't start dating again until about 5 years ago and didn't realize he was attracted to men until a few years ago. He and his son lived in a conservative area until his son went off to college, and his son was kind of confused and upset about his father dating men, and when he found out I was trans he said some hurtful things which gave our relationship a rocky start. He's been much better but our relationship has always been a little awkward and stilted.

He's a big straight cis guy- like he was a linebacker in high school, and was planning on joining a frat until my husband, who is a worrier, talked him out of it and I'm a fat gay trans nerd. We have pretty much nothing in common and he didn't like that his dad was dating a man let alone a trans man who's only 8 years older than him. Between COVID and his college we also haven't spent much time together.

In February my husband and I got married and moved closer to the city where my stepson is in school. He was living on campus when we got married and is living with some friends during the summer, but he does laundry at our house and comes over for dinner at least once a week. We've been trying to get to know each other but it's awkward. My husband really really wants us to be closer and has tried to come up with activities we all enjoy to do together so it'll be less awkward.

He likes sports and martial arts and I did aikido as a kid for weeb reasons so I offered to take us to a beginner martial arts class and to take him and his friends out to dinner sometimes because they're college students and I work in computer programming, and though I have going out with friends money now, I remember the appeal of free food in college.

He took me up on the class and I thought things were going well but then one week he took me up on the food thing and his friends were uncomfortable because I'm 29 years old and he introduced me as his stepdad and they were what I would describe as playfully trans and homophobic. I brushed it off because it's a weird situation and i figured they were trying to diffuse the tension.

The next week when we got to class one of his friends was there. He and his friend spent the class hanging out with each other and ignoring me which hurt but I tried to brush it off.

When we got to sparring towards the end of class I was paired with my stepson and so we were sparring normally.

Full disclosure I've taken a few self defense classes and have been assaulted. This is not an excuse but it is the reason for the next bit.

My stepson's friend was goading us while we were sparring and stepped a little too close which knocked us both off our game and when my stepson went in for a normal grab, I freaked out a little and fully decked him in a totally illegal move. The second it happened I stepped away and started apologizing like crazy.

My stepson's nose was bleeding and the instructor was immediately right there to help him. My stepson said it was fine and laughed it off and said he was just bummed he would have to sit out the rest of class but he'd come up with a good story to tell girls and it would get him dates.

The friend also apologized for getting too close.

The instructor said he had been about to call for us to stop because we were too close to other people and he could see that I had panicked and that it would be okay because everyone signed waivers, but I should probably hold off sparring for now and we'd talk about what set me off so it wouldn't happen again. He was really nice about it, apparently he teaches self defense to survivors and recognized my reaction.

My stepson and I sat out the rest of class and I apologized a few more times and he kept brushing it off before he finally snapped and said it was fine because I punch like a girl anyway. He then got a ride with his friend.

When I got home I immediately went to my husband to tell him what happened and apologize and ask what he thought I should do to fix the situation. When I got to my husband he said that my son had already called him and told him everything and that neither he nor my stepson were upset with me. That these things happen and I shouldn't blame myself. I asked how I should make it up to my stepson and my husband said i didn't need to do anything and something like accidents happen or something. I just kind of let it go and decided to see how things went the next time I saw my stepson.

The next time my stepson came over, it became apparent that my stepson had lied to my husband about what happened. My husband believed that "some anxious chick" from the class had been the one to freak out and punch my stepson.

I wanted to be honest with my husband but I didn't want to upset my stepson and between the "punch like a girl" and the "some anxious chick" I felt like there's something more going on with why he lied to my husband. I wanted to talk to my stepson about it but he's been ignoring me since telling me that I punch like a girl.

My stepson ignored me and I avoided talking about the whole situation to my husband for about 10 days. It was causing me constant guilt and anxiety but I really wanted to talk to my stepson first.

Last night my husband mentioned that my stepson's bruise is finally completely gone and I broke down and told him everything. He was upset with both his son and me. He said that he could understand me accidentally hitting his son but keeping it from him made him feel like it was malicious. He said he needed time to process, so we didn't really talk about it, or at all after that. Between me punching his kid and lying and his son also lying and blaming a woman for it, my husband is mad at both of us, as apparently his son calling me a 'woman' to upset my husband has been a thing.

Evidently he called my stepson about it because when my stepson came by the house to get his laundry today, he was furious with me for "narcing on us" and allowing his dad to "blow things out of proportion."

I know lying in the first place was bad, but aita for telling my husband the truth after my stepson and I had seemingly agreed to keep it secret, especially without talking to my stepson first?

What are these acronyms?

[lemon-wedges]

Just wanted to ask (and feel free to not answer), but how do you draw so much so quickly? I'm always impressed by how fast you doodle or paint. Also, wanted to say that I appreciate your Barok and DGS art as a whole.

and with this ask i have finally reached an artist milestone 😭

Well theres a short answer and a REALLY long answer (which ill put under cut when i get there).

short answer: practice + refs

which.....can be an annoying thing to hear. And as someone who studies art and has bought a LOT of online courses trying to figure out how industry people can just churn out work like nothing. it feels like a let down every time i find out their big secret. just practice and photo refs. Every. Single. Time.

LONG ANSWER:

its how you studying your refs. heres how i do mine

sorry if this is rambly. but ill try my best to at least be clear. BUT THIS is the EXACT way i taught myself how to be quicker.

I do not know if youve taken any art classes but essentially one of the ways to study gesture drawing is by first tracing ur photo ref to get a sense of the flow/proportions of the body. youve probably seen a billion of these tutorials floating around:

So last year around hmmmm june/july? i was NOT looking to get better at my anatomy or gesture. i was actually trying to get better at clothes. but my problem was it took me so long to draw out a figure (which i was fine with cause i liked how my people looked at the time) that i could never really just focus clothing part.

So i told myself look. ur not looking to draw in this style like this forever. so for now SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY!!!! I WANT THE BAREBONES OF A HUMAN HERE TO MAKE A MANIQUIEN FOR CLOTHES OK

but how do i do that....

Im gonna use this piece as an example from my rise and yosuke fashion palooza month. FIRST u see i got all my photo refs together. i like those poses on the right and i want to switch out the clothes for the other ones i picked out. i trace out my poses. kind of like the tutorial up top but since this is about draping i was focused the exact places their waist/arms/legs/etc would bend.

and like the tutorial u turn off the photo ref and do a drawing based off that traced piece.

then i would turn on my refs and add on my clothes

And after a month of just doing that over and over and over. i was surprised to find that figures and poses were so much easier to understand when i would break them down like this. and once u get familiar with them the faster and more confidently you'll draw them.

I and still do this btw. heres my otasune from the last week

i used photo refs for all my sketches. if i cant find anything online to match what i want i just take photos of myself. and some might say well arent u just relying on reference TOO much?

AND AGAIN take it from someone who has spend a lot of money buying classes from their fav artists in the industry. The Secret of how they churn out so much cool work so fast always turns out to be this. practice and photo refs.

Every. Single. Time.(tho this is omitting a lot. im not getting into like they way they stylize their art work. that actually the fastest and funnest thing to do once u have ur base down)

Now PAINTING

The thing is, i dont actually post up all my work on this blog. So theres a ton of stuff you havent seen me do. These are some paintings i did 2 years ago for a class.

I already know how to pick my values and set up lighting. When you see me painting my figures now. i am not focused on learning these basics im actually just honing a technique.

you might see me post readmores with these kinds of wips. I lay in all my colors and lighting with the lasso tool. ALL THE MAJOR DECSIONS ARE DONE HERE

(the little miniature i add on the side basically tells me what the overall feeling is going to be when i blend in the lineart to be cohesive with my colors) ( also if you had any questions on my prepainting process tho. feel free to ask!!!)

and if you compare this wip to my finished piece youll actually find that i dont stray that far from what i've laid in.

everything happening at THIS stage is about feeling out how i want the textures to blend with one another and getting funky with some brush strokes.

and thats it? im not sure if any of this is helpful but if anything. i hope you come away from this feeling like what ive been doing here is nothing special. "THATS IT???? THATS ALL THERE IS??? well i could have done that :T"

exactly man. you can do ALL OF THIS aND MORE!!! I BELIEVE IN U :D

but ill let this be the last thing i leave u with my friend: my barok sketch and the refs i used for his boobies

[kebriones]

Will they ever repair the school of arts in Athens? I read it was one of the first universities to be built in Greece, but now it looks like an abandoned building which is a shame how little the government values art 😔

WELL. Sorry anon you touched a sensitive subject and you're getting a rant.

Last year they fixed up our neoclassical building at the entrance, made it very ugly imo, and it has remained unused, closed and empty since then. They spent 1.6 MILLION euros to fix that thing. Do you know why? Because every journalist who wanted to write about the school's condition would come to the entrance, take a picture of the gray-ish, graffiti-covered neoclassical building, and use it in their article about how they've let THE school of fine arts be ugly and abandoned and so on. They fixed that only for show, which is a slap in the face to everyone who studies and works in the actual building.

We have incredibly little funding from the government. The building that houses the school is an ex-factory and as such requires very specialized types of repairs and upkeep. The old house on the left of the school as well as some storage buildings no visitor ever sees at the back are classified as "preservable" and therefore, like the now-renovated neoclassical ex-bank at the front, require very large amounts of money and time and studies to get fixed. I don't see that happening any time soon. Especially the house with the double staircase and all that, would have to be essentially rebuilt from scratch.

The actual building where the studios and everything is housed has so many practical problems. Some places like the underground cinema, the main auditorium and the exhibition hall are in fairly decent condition. The studios, not so much. We don't have money to fix clogged sinks, move or replace broken machinery, everything is always unimaginably filthy because they don't have enough cleaners, there are doors and windows that can't close, which results in pigeons and cats and dogs getting inside and shitting everywhere, the ceilings especially in the upper floor are falling apart from water pooling on the rooftop, making entire spots unusable because of the mold and constant dripping and the danger of stuff falling off the ceiling and injuring someone, everything floods the moment it rains, some of the bathrooms lack light and we don't even have soap or toilet paper most of the time. We don't have enough space for everyone to work in either, in the majority of the studios. But there is no funding. The school can't even afford to give simple cheap paper to the students, last year we were out of clay at the ceramics class for months. Every now and then they bring people to come paint over the graffiti at the entrance, as if that's the main problem of the school.

Also, it was actually one of the first universities to be made in Athens, but up until the 80s it was housed in the building of the polytechnic university on Patision street. It got moved to the ex-textile factory to have more space and a more modern environment, which I think was the right move. If it was functional and not so dirty and falling apart to the point of being actually dangerous, the factory itself is an incredible, gorgeous building, with the graffiti and the posters and everything. I just wish I didn't have to step around poop every time i had to go to class, or that I could actually use the sinks normally to wash my paintbrushes and my hands. Or idk have some cheap supplies available for free. I think they will come make actual improvements when someone dies or something. Two years ago after the floods that destroyed expensive equipment and stuff, their solution was to bring us sand bags to pile up on the entrances of the building to keep the water out whenever it rains.

[galar-abortion-clinic]

🍀🧠🥊🎓 For Jules, Mauly, and Rory! Just curious about these three!

(Jules is getting his own post since someone else asked about him, so stay tuned. Same twat time, same twat channel)

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Conceptually, both Mauly and Rory are two sides of the same coin. At first I only had Mauly, but I decided to extract a few traits from her and squelch those out into their own character so that her personality wouldn’t feel so totally neutered by incompetence. She’s a little more idealized, whereas Rory is my worst fear of what I could turn out to be, or how other people might perceive me

Mauly is impulsive, brash, self-serving, and arrogant. She’s unapologetically angry, horny, and human. Rory is all of those things, but deeply insecure and constantly overcompensating. He’s pathetic and he makes me sick. Basically he boils down to “sid vicious if he were a bit less of a dick, purely because he’s subdued by cowardice”

Design-wise? Kalos’ rendition of the Punk Guy/Girl trainer class, man. I fell in love instantly. Also this one specific tank girl page:

Good shit

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

Mauly takes no shit. Sure, that might mean she leaves a bad taste in some people’s mouths, but she knows when she deserves to be treated better. Something I’ve always struggled with has been not standing up for myself because I’m worried it’ll hurt or inconvenience other people. Mauly says fuck those other people, It’s not my job to accommodate anyone else’s existence by minimizing my own. Her whole arc is about self-acceptance through ambivalence. “Even if i don’t love myself, i can’t change who I am. You’re not going to change me either, and you look stupid for trying”

Rory’s best use to me is catharsis. I’ve shoved all the shit I hate about myself into this guy and exaggerated it by queefzillion, and it feels reassuring to see him being knocked down a peg for behaving like a little wart. It also feels kind of nice when he still manages to find occasional kindness in spite of his many, many glaringly hideous flaws.

🥊 - What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Mauly was one of those kids who every adult in her life would describe as “so creative” and “a free spirit”, which is actually grown-up code for “this poor bastard’s gonna be a starving artist and we’re hiding our disappointment”. If she had the means to create more often, she’d have a lot of fun honing her craft and fully leaning into art as an outlet for her angst

Because she’s so hands-on and skilled at improvised patching and the like, she often gets stuck with repair responsibilities by the other schmucks she lives with. She doesn’t mind slapping duct tape over stuff several times over or whacking things with a hammer til it fits right, she just would prefer not being assigned that job by other people. Never tell her what to do

Rory’s nimble fingers don’t only make him a passable thief, but also a possibly-not-the-worst musician. He’s never played for anyone else, which might be why he kinda sucks, but it’s one of the few things he keeps to himself instead of bloating to give his delicate ego some padding. His songbook is loaded with edgy cringe, but its the sort of raw soul-bearing stuff that reminds you there’s a person in there. Not a great person, but a person

Anyway something he hates doing is uhhhhhh giving to charity,

🎓- How long have you had the OC?

Mauly’s been around ffffforrrrrr i wanna say maybe two years now? For a long time she was just an idea in my head, i didn’t wanna touch that idea til i knew exactly what i wanted to do with it

Rory’s my freshest OC, only been around for like a month. Not even. Could still use some fine tuning

Bonus: some VERY rough first drafts of Mauly that’re a little closer to the source material (excuse the positively grimy state of the paper, i dont take very good care of my sketchbooks)

[dearestones]

The Art of Romance (Hacker x M! Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, established relationship, Hacker just wants to impress you but doesn’t think he’s doing a good job being romantic, slight Swindler x Courier, Valentine’s  Day themed. 

@mondgewalt Request: HELLOOO, i saw your requests are open so i thought i might take advantage of that 💪🏻

could i request a romantic fluff scenario for hacker with a male reader? (though gender neutral is also fine!) i‘m fine with any scenario tbh, i leave that up to you haha

.

.

.

Hacker is not one to quibble about the fine arts. In general, he is ruled by logic and rules, be it if he’s playing in one of his video games, hacking into a government database, or if he’s trying to finagle his way into getting free food from Swindler. There’s this sense of satisfaction he alone can feel when he manages to outwit authority by jumping through loopholes no one else can see. 

It’s fulfilling. 

With art like poetry and painting, it’s a lot harder to see what rules dictate how and why someone should use certain brushes or different strokes, what words or grammar would be best utilized to make a point. For someone like Hacker, art doesn’t make sense. Art is subjective; it is what you make of it and Hacker can’t quite recall what makes art… art. 

Sure, he has some taste (why else has he designed his droids to look as cute as they can be?), but he depends more on practicality than aesthetics. Back when he used to attend school, whenever there were projects that called for artistic expression, Hacker had simply bribed one of his classmates to do it for him. 

There was value in art, to be sure, but it simply wasn’t for him. 

It didn’t make sense and what didn’t make sense, Hacker either endeavored to understand it better or pretend that it did not exist. After all, when playing a game, one expected to win. But if you were always losing because you couldn’t understand the rules, well… Then it’s not worth playing in Hacker’s opinion. 

Today, however, Hacker was willing to give art a chance. 

You see, while Hacker wasn’t keen on playing a game that would result in a loss for him, he cannot deny that you were special. Hacker was no hedonist, but he liked sticking to things that he was usually good at: computer programming, logic puzzles, and hacking. There were, of course, a plethora of other interests that he could entertain, but those exemplified his technological skills more than any other. With you, however, there was this underlying sense of wanting to better himself. 

To be a person that was more than just a hacker living in a dingy apartment with no (legal) prospects in the future. 

(That in itself was almost more of a challenge than the fact that Hacker was willing to forgo all sense in rules and logic in favor of… art.

And what Hacker thought challenging, he inevitably knew was going to be fun).

So, on one fine Tuesday afternoon (the date of which he claimed was nondescript and ordinary), Hacker had requested that you meet him at a mutual friend’s house. You accepted, thinking that maybe you and your boyfriend were going to hang out with Swindler. There was a new anime that had come out a few days ago, and you knew that Swindler was sometimes too busy with the Seal Center to get herself up to date. 

Yet, when you arrived at Swindler’s middle class apartment, you found that it was only inhabited by you, Hacker, and a series of ingredients sitting innocently on the counter. 

(Well, Swindler was there in the beginning, but it was to make clear that you were in charge, the both of you weren’t allowed to burn down her apartment, and that if you—not Hacker, you—made something edible, you would have to save some for her.

Swindler also made sure to spend the last few moments teasing Hacker before goodnaturedly ruffling his blond hair and then leaving.

You would later find out that she spent the rest of the day with Courier, but that’s another story for another day). 

When you had asked why he wanted to bake with you, he simply shrugged and said that he wanted to try out the wonders of culinary arts. Swindler was fairly proficient at it (as evidenced by her vast array of pots and pans and the quality ingredients that rested on her counter), but he was itching for a challenge. Baking required specific instructions, but if one were to modify the recipe, even the smallest change could drastically alter the final product. 

Baking, he explained, was a science that was imbued with artistic intent. 

And that was how the past hour or so went. 

The both of you would take turns reading the instructions, measuring ingredients, and then mixing it all together. There were times when you swore that he was having fun, only for you to peer closer and see that his cheeks were flushed with confusion at a certain line in the instructions or his eyes heavy with discontent. A while ago, you had caught him accidentally dropping a few eggshells into a bowl, but thankfully, you caught him. In the moment, you laughed it off, but thinking back on it, Hacker seemed to wilt as he plucked the offending pieces of shell into the bin. 

Have you done something wrong? 

“Are you sure you’re fine?” You tried to wipe off flour from your shirt, but only succeeded in spreading it further into the fabric. Laughing a little to yourself, paused a moment to take a look at Hacker, only to find that your boyfriend was slumped over the table, his head lolling about as if he were boneless. 

Like you, Hacker was splattered with bits of flour. He had taken his cybernetic eyepatch off so that the internal components wouldn’t get damaged by the process, but he kept his hat firmly attached to his head. Once, when you were still getting to know him, you had asked if he used hairpins, but he had given you the world’s nastiest look that you bit the inside of your cheek from laughing. 

(You did manage to find a few hairpins on his desk during the first few times you visited his apartment, but he swore that they were Swindler’s). 

Hacker gave you a noncommittal grunt that you decided must have meant that he was either still salty that his baking skills weren’t up to par with yours or that he was still suffering from the teasing Swindler had given him before she left. You pulled up a chair beside him and rested your head against his shoulder. Although his personality could go from teasing to cold and analytical at times, his body ran rather warm. His jacket was soft, but you found, when you ran your fingers through his hair, that it was softer. 

It was a miracle his hair was as healthy and as clean as it was considering the state of his apartment. 

“Come on,” you cooed. 

You sat up straight and gently guided Hacker by the chin to look up at you. As you gazed down at him, an unfamiliar emotion seemed to swell and swallow the light in his eyes. Normally, his eyes were glacial blue: cold, but entrancing to look at. Now, they seemed to darken like storm clouds moments before furious rain. 

Concerned now, you pulled him closer so that it was his head that was resting on your chest. Hearing your heartbeat must have been enough because moments later, you finally heard him speak. 

The thing about Hacker was that while he would talk and brag online all he wanted, in real life he was fairly introverted. Sure, he would be sassy and quick witted among those he considered friends, but he mostly kept to himself. If he did speak without prompting, it was mostly to tease or to talk about his hobbies in great length. It was rare for him to sound emotional. 

“I’m not good at this… whatever this is.” He waved his hand as if trying to gesture at something tangible. 

“And what’s that?”

Hacker released a long, heaving breath before allowing his face to fall into the fabric of your shirt. “This relationship? This…” He made a light gagging noise, but continued anyway, “Romance?”

The way he said it… You weren’t sure why, but you felt your heart drop at his words. When you thought about it, his actions today were worrying and the fact that it was today of all days? Could this be…?

“Are… Is this…” You pursed your lips as the worst came to mind. He wouldn’t… would he? Still, despite what doubts you had clouding your perception, you had to ask. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No!” Hacker reared away from your chest, his hands landing on your shoulders as if anchoring you down so that he could face you without fear of your running away. “Of course not! Why would—” He shook his head before allowing his hands to drift down your shoulders before interlacing his fingers with yours. “I’m not good with… Feelings.”

“That’s a given.”

He shot you a faux nasty look before softening his gaze. “Well, I’m not a very romantic person, but I thought that I could… try and do something nice, I guess. So, I thought that on a special day like this—”

“So, you did know it was Valentine’s Day!” 

Another nasty look was delivered, this time a glare, before he flicked your nose. “—I could try and do something nice. For you. But…” 

Before he could look away from you again, one of your hands cupped his cheek. Silently, you marveled at how soft his skin was, how his breath gently stuttered from his lips. What caught your attention the most, though, was the faint glow of pink that spread across his cheeks and coated the shells of his ears. If you weren’t so intent on soothing Hacker’s feelings, you would have teased him. 

“But?”

“I… I’m just not good at it.” He opened his mouth as if to say something more, closed it, and then thought better of it. “Computers, puzzles… It’s all logical. There are rules that you must follow, certain expectations that must be filled. The same could be said for relationships, but I don’t think I understand it at all.”

He sucked in a deep breath and when he released it, his entire body looked like it was deflating. “It’s like I’m playing a game where I know how it should end, but the rules are confusing and there’s no guarantee that I’ll win.”

Your heart broke when his face fell, glacial blue eyes welling with emotions that he clearly did not want to confront. 

“Hey… Just because you’re not good at baking or poetry or whatever else you think makes up the crux of romantic activities doesn’t mean that I don’t like you any less.” You paused before emphasizing, “That I don’t love you any less.” You leaned in close and rested your forehead against his. Here, with little distance to separate the two of you, you could almost pretend that Hacker was the only living thing left. That your entire world was solely him. “Love is confusing, I’ll admit that and I struggle with it too! But what matters is that you put effort into something that you don’t normally do. Preparing a romantic date like this? Baking? Surviving Swindler’s teasing? You didn’t have to go this far.”

“But I did.”

“You did and that’s what makes all of this—” You pointed at Swindler’s oven and the mess that spawned atop her kitchen countertop. “—special. You don’t have to be skilled or overly romantic to-to…” You felt a small, sly smile on your face as you regarded your now suspicious boyfriend. A thought had just occurred to you and by the gods of Kansai, you wanted to know if your theory was correct. “Did you do all of this to impress me?”

Hacker rolled his eyes, pressed a quick kiss on your nose, and then hopped off his chair. “I’m going to clean the counters before Swindler comes back and starts complaining.”

“Hey! You didn’t answer my question! Hacker!” He pointedly ignored you as he began wiping down the countertops with a dishrag. “At least kiss me again, you tease!”

At that exclamation, Hacker turned around and gave you the world’s cockiest grin. Coming from Hacker, it was like he was looking at a particularly challenging video game that he had yet to best. “You want a kiss? Then come get it.”

It took several minutes, a few overturned chairs, and a bag of flour, but you got your kiss.

(You also got a huffed explanation that Swindler had told your loving boyfriend that he should do something special for Valentine’s Day instead of gaming together. That led to your incredulous laughter before you told him that it didn’t matter. As long as the both of you were together, it was time worth spending).

Later on, when Swindler came home with flushed cheeks and a few take out boxes filled with takoyaki, she would tell the both of you that the cookies you made were horrible. 

It was okay. You and Hacker planned on baking a new batch another day. 

(And if that didn’t work out, the both of you could watch that new anime just to spoil Swindler on your next date). 

.

.

.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

AKUDAMA DRIVE MASTERLIST

[pbandjesse]

Sadly baby mouse died overnight. I am not shocked after how quickly he deteriorated yesterday. I just hope he was comfortable in the end. I feel really bad. But I tried my best. I really did. I would bury him with his brother in the clover pot.

I felt sad this morning because of that. I hadn't slept bad. And let myself sleep until 9. When I woke up I had a sore throat. It's like deep in the base of my skull. Which might be be allergies but it for sure not comfy.

I got dressed. And tried to feel fine. I cleaned up all the mouse stuff. Said goodbye. Tried to feel normal.

I had a little breakfast. And I worked on the sweater project. I decided that it's not the right shape. Which is alright. It was a fun try and I will move on to the next project now. I am not sure what that will look like but I'm looking forward to trying to make something else

My hands need a little break I think though and I might do some sewing to get ready for the Christmas market. Or draw some new bears. We will see.

I would chill on the couch after I vacuumed up the yarn fluff I got all over the living room. I thought about cleaning but then I was just a bit paralyzed. I was tired and couldn't do anything. So I didn't. I had a deviled egg. I ran downstairs to get a package for a neighbor when the doorbell rang. I laid in bed for a little while.

I got up at 12 and finished getting ready. I put my shoes on. And I was off. I said hello to my neighbor outside. And drove to awah.

I put on music to hype myself up. And got there early. I was most of the way set up when Zoe got there.

It was a fun day. I was really pleased to see the sisters back from the spring who I really like. I also just really liked the project. We were talking about geometric shapes and colors and patterns. And everyone seemed really into it. Which I always love. I just want everyone to have fun. And this was a good one.

Me and Naomi also made some art to encourage the teens. One of the sister, Tiffany, loved the black outlines on my art and asked if she could do it too. Of course!! She seemed so excited, it was so sweet. Her sister, Sierra, held my hand and told me she was afraid of bees. She also was very concerned with the dates of the class which I think is very sweet. She just wants to know what's up, which I can absolutely relate too.

We had a lull between groups and were able to reset. I had a nice conversation with Mary Ellen about what puhtok does and the group I work with on Tuesdays with profoundly disabled students. She got a little misty! I was surprised but I also got it.

The adult class was fun. I had a nice conversation with Andrew and his dad about how Andrew has such a beautiful eye for color and his work reminds me of Hilma af Klint. Which I think made Andrew flattered.

I also just had some nice interactions with Richard and his aid. About pop art and painting. It was a fun class.

Me and Naomi would chat about her trip next weekend and how we have no class. It'll be nice to have a free Sunday. And we were pretty good at reminding people about it. Hate to mess up any of their routines, I know how important that is for them, but everyone seems mostly chill about it.

It would take a little bit to get all of the materials out away. Andrew and Brian had helped us bring things to the table and I got everything put away. Chatted with Andrew's dad. But soon it was time to go.

I remembered to alarm the building. And then walked to my car. Which was surprisingly warm. I took my sweater and socks off. And wrote my notes for the class while the ac cooled down the car.

I I went to target. I was originally going to go this morning but I am glad I waited. It was fun. But it was also incredibly busy. Target was having some kind of sale if you used the app. Which finally pushed me to download the app.

And I saved so much??? I had $18 in Cashback on my account I didn't know about and a $5 gift card, plus 30% off half my items. I ended up getting a $95 order for $58! That's crazy!

I did really good sticking to my list. But I also treated myself to a beautiful green fleece jacket that I love. Its so soft. And if we use girl math, with my discounts today I got it for free.

Of course it's way to warm to wear it. But in the coming weeks I am sure it's going to be great.

I paid after waiting on a very long line. Almost left the store without getting the security tag taken off the fleece but after the door beeped at me twice I went back and got it fixed. Oops.

I dropped off my purchases in the car and walked to five below. Which was also to busy but it was fine. I did not have luck finding what I was looking for. The final items on my list. Pimple patches and brown sugar chapstick. I still had fun looking around.

I remembered I had a $10 gift card for Ulta so I walked next door and had great luck. I found a new brand of patches that weren't expensive and the brown sugar chapstick! Which had a redesigned package so I'm glad I was able to find it even if it didn't look like I expected from the old packaging.

The girl at the counter was excited for me that my total was $4 after my gift card. Excellent. Love a deal. She also helped me fix my Ulta account that wasn't set up correctly. Why it had my Minnesota address and my brother's name I will never know. Weird weird weird.

I walked to the Michaels next. No luck on the strap material but I found a few other little things I was excited about. Some ribbon and super glue. A cup and a wall hook shaped like a heart. I had a coupon for there too. I was doing really good today.

I got a piece of candy while I was there and ate that while I walked back to the car. And then home.

It was a nice drive back. And I was really happy to be back. I was tired.

James was playing DND with their friends. I put things away and laid on the couch with sweetp. James said they would play for another hour. And once that hour was up I requested they get off and have dinner with me. So they did.

They would run to the store to get dressing. And then we had a salad, fries, and grilled cheeses for dinner. James just made one dinner that we shared and it was very sweet. I love my husband.

I have been hanging out all evening. Texting Celia about how whimsy is the best prevention for COVID. Sweetp was being a little cutie cuddling me. I got a shower. James and me are in bed now. I am very much ready for sleep.

James told me that they are very sorry that baby mouse died. But they feel like taking care of him healed something in them for the mouse tests they had to do in highschool. I am glad that we tried. I am sad but I know we showed kindness and that is important to me.

Tomorrow we are taking Sweetp to the vet for a check up. He is to fat so I am expecting them to tell us that. But besides that I think we are just having a chill day. I hope it is restful.

Sleep well everyone. Wash your hands and take care of eachother.

[omegasmileyface]

Of All the People - Ch. 11

second to last chapter!! and the last journal chapter! the next one might take a bit to upload, so on our ao3 upload we promoted four fics that inspired the way we wrote this. here are those links! click through or check the end note on our ao3 upload for names and authors. as always, this was written by me and @attackradish and @ectolemonades for InvisoBang 2022, with chapter 1 art by @/toasty-ghosti!

whole fic summary: After a stupid dare puts Dash Baxter in the lab at Fentonworks during the middle of a ghost fight, he finds himself a little more spectral than usual. Apparently Danny Fenton’s gone through the same thing (someone has got to call OSHA on these guys eventually), and who could better help Dash than his hero? His lame, stubborn hero?

warnings: Nothing for this chapter! In others, existential crises, and Spectra.

words: 1981

AO3 link

first chapter

previous chapter

next chapter

===

November 21

Today in chemistry we had a lab and it was weird, cuz I wasn't with Star. Theirs no set partners in that class or anything but nobody switches up partners after the first lab. That would be stupid. But before class Star was talking to Foley about some part of the lab prep and they didn't want to stop the conversation so they paired up. It sucks that we had to re partner but Foley's usual partner was Danny so it could of been worse. Apparently hes still banned from the glass wear after he dropped everything in freshman year. Which was totally because he was still getting used to intangibility and thats really unfair. He's perfect at that now. Anyway, I had to hold all the equipment while he read the lab instrutions to me but it worked out fine. I'm glad I'm not dropping stuff like he was. I know he had way more times where he accidentally used his powers than I am (its hard enough to use them on purpose) but I think the training has also helped a lot. If we BOTH got banned we'd be screwed on the lab. It was pretty boring since I was just taking instructions and Danny's used to labs and shit so we ended up talking a lot. I got exited about Invasion Z 2: Redeath coming out this weekend and he kept agreeing with me. Turns out he likes movies too! Mostly sci fi and horror and stuff but hey, a good movies a good movie. He gave me some horror reccommendations and I don't usually like horror but I'm gonna try them. He's probably too busy but I think I'll ask if his friends wanna go see Redeath when it hits the theater.

===

November 22

The Red Huntress was in a ghost fight today. Like one where Phantom was there too. I havent seen her since Igot my powers but I don't think I've ever really thought about her before. I got to get up kinda close without her noticing me cuz Danny had her distracted and… she's so human. Like I mean obviously, she's human but I don't think I ever thought of her with that in mind. She's just kind of a superhero to me more than specificly a human that deals with ghosts. But up close I could hear what she was saying to Phantom and it was so different compared to the ghosts. It was all hate. It wasn't any challenges or competition or whatever mostly. She doesn't yell as much as when she started showing up and I feel like she's less trigger happy around Phantom now but she's still all personal and intense. I guess it just makes me wonder who she is. If she's human she's gotta have like a life and job when she isn't chasing ghosts and it was weird enough learning that it was the same with Phantom but Danny doesn't have a choice. This chick has to care a hell of a lot to keep doing this. What hapened that made her so invested in ghosts?

===

November 23

Me and Kwan and Star and Paulina were gonna go to Nasty Burger with Danny's gang after school today to make sure we are all on the same page about ghosts and everything. But Kwan wanted to bail, which I get. He's still on the football team and so I guess the free time I've got now minus training isn't the same for him. Then Paulina and Star both had family stuff come up. I guess Thanksgiving IS tomorow. So I just went alone but when I got there Manson and Foley had ditched too. That many people leaving is kinda suspiscious, except that I don't see why my friends would do that on purpose. Fenton's friends maybe. Nerds are weird like that. Danny decided to stay even after it was just me there. I mean, foods food. Since everybody else was missing we didn't really talk business, instead we just talked about whatever. Did you know Danny has piloted the space shuttle before??

===

November 24

Turns out the Red Huntress is Val. As in, Valerie Gray. Danny's known the whole time she's been doing the job and he acidentally let it slip when we were talking about having to fight humans. He forgot I didn't know. He felt really really bad about it so obviously I can't tell anybody but it almost feels like I should. Is she okay? I mean she's doing this but shes just a human and I know she did sports before but it's super not the same. Where did she even get all that tech? Did she make it herself? I guess probably not because she was never into techno stuff before but did I is that the kind of stuff she has to do? It's weird that she's in high school too, with how busy Danny is she must have it the same way. I don't know if her grades are worse or anything because I haven't really talked to her since her dad lost his job. None of us have. Since then she's really been fighting ghosts? Why is Why won't Why does she hate them so much? Fuck weve all been such assholes to her and we just forgot about it when we didn't see her as much. I can't invite her back into the group becase she'll find out I'm a ghost and probably try to kill me at school or something. Plus she doesn't even wanna come back I bet.

===

November 25

Lancer wants everybody to do a writing piece on some exhibit at Amity museum. Something about getting imersed in knowledge or whatever. A bunch of us went there after school today to find topics so we could ignore it on the weekend. They have this exibit on the moon landings and mars rovers and all that space robot stuff and apparently Danny hadn't been here since before they added that cuz when he saw it he looked like he found $100 lying on the ground. He was fucking thrilled and he started talking about stuff that wasn't even on the information posters. I'm thinkin he should have designed the thing! His eyes got all sparkly and I'm 100% sure his freckles were glowing like little stars. He was also clearly trying not to float?? Honest to god it was so cute… Anyway everyone else went away after a bit to look at other exibits but like didn't they want to hear what Danny was saying?? I did.

===

November 26

Ok I've been mostly staying out of ghost fights this whole time cuz I get that while I'm still training it's better for Danny if I stay out of his way. But today there was a fight with this ghost skeleton dude in a white suit (he was kinda familiar?? I dont remember any ghosts like that though. ghosts are weird like that) and he kept punching Phantom into the road and shit and it was brutal. So I joined in too at least make it a two on one fight. But there was a bit where Danny was on the ground resting (I think his arm got broken?! Does he have bones?? I mean I do right??? But maybe he doesn't cuz he's a litle different or whatever???) so the skeleton dude started going after me instead. That was scary but like it's what we're training for so I was sticking my ground ready to help out my hero. But he barely touched me before Da Phantom was just… back.

He tackled the skeleton ghost strait into the road and it made another crater. He backed up into the air and fired a perfect ecto-blast that broke up the asphalt more so it looked like gravel around the ghost. I think at that point the ghost had passed out but Phantom jerked his hand and put some kind of green layer around the guy. I guess it was like one of his sheilds but at a distance. Then he came over and got me, I never had time to move away, and he just picked me up and took me to the other side of the street like mom moves Pooky when he's in the way. I tried to get out so I could keep an eye on the ghost and make sure he didn't escape but Ph Danny wouldn't even give me any wiggle room. It was like he was made of iron. I felt that a couple times before when he's saved me from stuff but it's a lot less comforting when I'm trying to fight it. I saw that he was still somehow keeping that sheild up though so I guess I didn't need to escape any way. Man, he looked pissed… but I don't think it was at me. It at least didn't feel that way somehow. 

After that he went back and captured the guy without anoher word to him and he checked me over and told me to "be careful around people like that" and went home. He didn't look me in the eye since he moved me out of the way. Maybe that's good, becuz I don't know if its a ghost thing or what but there was something really heav paralys intense about him at that point. I don't know how I would of acted if we had made eye contact. Stupid, probably.

I've been thinking about it and if I'm gonna be honest I was scared. Part of it was that kinda electric air thing that comes with ghosts sometimes, the feeling that makes you go all still, but I've never gotten that kind of feeling from Phantom before. Still though like I said I don't think it was aimed at me. That must be some kind of ghost comunication like Danny was talking about that one time, and it was comunicated to me that it was for the other guy. And it pretty much went away after he got the ghost contained. Still. I guess that wasnt all of it.

I re I guess I realized around then that like he didn't have to put up with everything. Me being an asshole I mean. When he was in that fight, even though it was worse then usual and he was suffering for it, when he got mad he just kinda switched gears. Ended the battle. Like he was sick of it. It gave me the feeling that he was sort of playing around until he cared enough to really get engaged (but why would he do that? Why wouldn't he just take care of the figt in the first place??)

And I guess that makes sense! I've been looking at every fucking Phantom fight I can these last few years. He doesnt really lose and he's done some crazy shit before. Pauli and I started getting stats at one point, like it was fantasy football. Those are kinda outdated now but I've seen a little stuff like that during trainings too and it's not like hes stagnated. He's crazy strong even compared to other ghosts and I guess I knew that but. I never really thought about what that meant for me. It's got me thinkin back to the times I was bullying him, after he became Phantom. A couple times he said "he didn't have time for this" and stuff like that but wh Fuck I don't know. It's just. He could have killed me really. Easy. If he was tired enough of me. That sucks.

===

November 27

My leg isn't getting better. Niether is my chest. Danny told me, because he still gets numb body parts and muscle spasms. Dying isn't really something you get better from.

===

November 28

am I ok?

[kroashent]

Mermay 2023 - René(e) the Fighter - 1

The Armorican Peninsula is a strange and wondrous place, a mist-shrouded land full of magic and mystery, where the mortal realm of Bedouar and the timeless vastness of Faerie coexist side by side, the great veil ripped apart by uncontrollable magic, causing time and space to collapse into disarray.  Unearthly fog rolls in, cutting off travelers from where they came and pure magical chaos rolls across the region in great storms.  Fortune can be found in the borders of Faerie to the brave and the lucky, death for the foolish.

The treacherous coast of the region, the Ar Mor Bras, is no stranger to these twists of fate, home to the lost city of Ys-Beneath-the-Waves and its accursed princess, Ahes Dahut.  Throughout the ages, some individuals find themselves caught in the whirlpool of magic surrounding this mystical site, and are drawn in by the phantom bells of the sunken city and the enchanting, enticing song of those trapped by its curse....

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

Back in 2019, I launched a special series for Mermay, an art project to develop a small, but important part of the lore of Alvez, the world of Kroashent.  The Marie-Morgane of Ys-Beneath-the-Waves are one of several merfolk races of the world.  For this project, I decided to "adapt" each of the Dungeons and Dragons Character Classes into a character as they may appear in Alvez, then transform these characters into mermaids with art and short stories!  Since then, I've been working hard on developing the world and the characters who live, there, even writing an ongoing novella, Kroashent: Bal des Loups, which you can read the first 3 chapters right now, for free!  A lot has changed as I worked and some of the art and stories seemed like they could use an update!

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

Next up is René(e), an idealistic knight from a minor family with dreams of love and adventure.  Compared to the Rozenn the Druid and Ailinor the Cleric, René's design had much less changes, but did have some cleanup and general streamlining.  I'll admit, I went back and forth on this a lot.  René's story takes place roughly 1000 years after the Fall of Ker-Ys, almost contemporaneous with the the story of Kroashent.  René's armor is something that would still be in regular use for the region.  I debated giving it a completely new design to line up with the more "modern" uniforms of the Windguard (Closer to what Enora wears), but decided for a footsoldier like René, the chain and tabard would still be commonly used.

I'm also proud to point out, this is the first time ever I've made/used a custom brush set, for the Ermine field on René's tabard!  Still needs some fine tuning, but a useful tool!

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

See René's original form here: https://www.deviantart.com/kathalia/art/Mermay-2019-The-Fighter-Rene-1-797030214

[graciagallardc]

[ renata notni, cisfemale, she/her ] - was that LUCIA CARRERA i saw by the lighthouse today? i heard that the TWENTY-SEVEN year old who has been in nightrest for HER WHOLE LIFE (ON AND OFF) and works as an EX FIGURE SKATER TURNED PHOTOGRAPHER has a reputation of being PASSIONATE, but also TEMPERAMENTAL. they reside in ASHMORE & people in town usually associate them with A COLLECTION OF CAMERAS, ICE SKATING WHEN NO ONE’S WATCHING & IMPULSE BUYING THE SAME THING IN SIX DIFFERENT COLORS. let’s hope the killer doesn’t go after them next. [ jia, 28, she/her, gmt+3, n/a ]

STATISTICS.

NAME: Lucia Romina Carrera

AGE: 27 years old

BIRTHDAY: February 2nd, 1996

ZODIAC CHART: Aquarius sun, cancer moon, aries rising

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cisfemale, she/her

FACE CLAIM: Renata Notni

OCCUPATION: Ex professional figure skater, now a photographer

PLACE OF BIRTH: Nightrest, Salem, Massachusetts

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Ashmore

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

HEIGHT: 5′6″ (167 cm)

BACKGROUND. 

(trigger warning: death)

Lucia was born to a middle-class and loving family, being the youngest of three kids and the only girl. She had a pretty simple life growing up, mapped out by her mother who saw a talent in her daughter from a very young age. She wanted to see her daughter become the best figure skater of her generation. Despite the long and tiring training hours, which would often be before and after school, Lucia loved the sport and wanted to make herself and her parents proud, who had worked doubles to ensure all the fees needed for her training.

She was a good child growing up for the most part. She didn’t excel at school, but her grades were good enough, and she wasn’t rebellious. Sure she would go to parties and sneak out sometimes, but it wasn’t excessive. She had a big social circle despite how busy she was. She’s what her parents would consider a ‘normal teenager’. During her free time, she developed a hobby for photography, but it wasn’t something she put much time into till she went to college. After graduation, she moved to Boston and pursued a degree in fine arts, settling there so she could stay in Massachusetts just as her competitive figure skating career started to grow, taking her onto bigger championships nationally.

Tragedy struck Lucia twice when she was twenty-three. Her mother suddenly passed away and a few months later, a career ending injury followed during her first international competition. Just like that, Lucia had lost her mother and her dream in one year. Her first year back in Nightrest had been the hardest on the girl as she worked towards dealing with her own failures, her grief, and having to pick her life back together. She stopped ice skating for an entire two years, and now only does it when there’s no one around to watch. She’s put her degree to good use and became a professional photographer.

PERSONALITY.

Lucia always found it easy to talk to people and make friends. She friendly and talkative, often getting lost in her own train of thought. She overshares sometimes, thanks to her lack of filter. That has embarrassed her more times than she can count. She’s a bit all over the place sometimes and can be unpredictable and dramatic with her reactions to things. An overthinker and a worrier, she feels things a bit too strongly at times but will laugh it off, depending. She can be impulsive at times and only thinks of her actions later. She’s loyal and cares for the people around her, but she’s careful not to come across as a push over. She doesn’t enjoy talking about her figure skating past because it embarrasses her and makes her feel like a failure. It’s one of the things she hasn’t really overcome and just shoves down to focus on the present and doing her own thing now.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

Ride-or-die

Close friends

Childhood friends

Sibling like friends

Exes

Flings/hookups/FWBs

Drinking buddies

Clients

Neighbors

Confidante

Family friends

Anything else, I’m open to everything! Give me <3

[heyitssashag]

I’m not sure why I chose to post this quote. I just liked it. 😬

I need an adventure. When I say “adventure” I mean that in the loosest way possible. I’m thinking something that is about 3 levels below “excitement”. Otherwise, it all feels like pressure. There’s a fine line between adventure and pressure… and that line is stress. Sasha doesn’t want anything that even comes close to stress. Notice how I had to underscore this by writing in the third person?

I used to have a lot more energy and spontaneity in me. Having fun was important. Still is. I think that’s all I’m looking for. Some fun. I was looking at my “on this day” memories and found a few pics of me going up the Snowshoe Grind at Grouse Mountain. That was definitely a lot of fun.

I believe these were taken 📸 my first time snowshoeing here 11 years ago. Loved it. Over the years, I went back many times.

There’s no snow where I am now which is fine by me. Not interested in that (the snow makes my bones hurt more). However, I wouldn’t mind maybe hiking up a mountain. I don’t need to hike up a mountain to have fun, though. Maybe just a little, easy hike somewhere new.

I suppose I’m just thinking “out loud” here with ideas. I need to actually start entering them into the calendar, though. Ideas are nice but action is needed more. I don’t need a lot of action but a little would be pleasant. (That’s what she said. 😂)

I feel like I’ve hit a wall. I have so many ideas but finding the time to do them has become hard. Lately, I’ve had appointments every day. If I finally have a day free, I’m catching up on errands, chores or paperwork… or I’m just being a sloth because my brain and body need the downtime. I feel like my life is bogged down with the mundane and I’m becoming melancholy. Maybe I just need something to look forward to. I’m going to buy tickets to an event. Ya. That’s a good idea. Not sure what type of event - I’ll keep you posted. I’m sure you’re all waiting with bated breath. 😂

This is the beauty of a “brain dumping” blog - I can work out my crap. Albeit, publicly, which isn’t ideal but whatever. It keeps me accountable.

I’m going to take a workshop. Nothing where I have to go weekly because I’m not interested in any commitments. Just a one day class on learning a “thing”. That would be something else I could look forward to.

I started my life goals workbook for this year and I haven’t finished it yet. I’m going to work through that and see what else pops up for me.

As a loose guide, I have some goals for this year but they’re not set in stone.

1.) Run more. Do a few races. Walking is okay, too. Just stay active as possible. Hike a trail. Do more weight training. Follow the plans from the exercise therapist and Physio.

2.) Eat healthfully. Experiment with recipes. Eat at home. Cook with Ella. Look for unique things to make.

3.) Do artsy stuff. Draw. Paint. Craft. Take and print photos. Lately, I’ve been wanting to do more doodling or cartooning with storylines.

4.) Stop being a hermit. Go to a show. A movie. Concert. Workshop. Trade show. Art gallery. Museum. Anything that gets me out of the house and my brain working.

5.) Spend as much time with family and friends as possible. Take photos when I can - even if it’s over Zoom. Try to arrange to see in person if schedules allow.

6.) #1 thing I want to work on this year is to: Release the past. Once and for all. Purge the old and set it free. The only way I know how to do this (aside from some intense therapy) is to just keep writing. I plan to write my memoirs which will be really hard because I also don’t want to relive it… but sometimes we have to in order to finally let go and feel better. This is going to be challenging but I plan to start this week and work on it daily. That may seem excessive but I have a lot to work through. Like, a lot. I’ve got so much baggage, there’s no room for me on the plane.

7.) Learn to go to fucking go to bed earlier. I have no idea what’s wrong with me. I actually fell asleep reading my book 2 hours ago but I woke up to go pee then I laid here for an hour and just decided to start writing my usual, glorious nonsense, again.

So that’s, that. It’s 12:15am and I’m starting to go cross eyed. Off to bed I’m going for one last pee. (I must be delirious because I’m now talking like Yoda.) So here’s another random gif for your pleasure. Gotta love sleeping kitties. 💕⬇️

[handelplayssims]

Oh man. I am excited to get back to school! Statements by the absolute deranged, that is.

Was going to befriend this teen, Brenden Downing, but uh, he just got locked into a loop of being mean to everyone. Ah well, we’ll try again at lunch. Also Manami dropped by and asked to be Autumn’s best friend. She’s crushing on her so sure! Math class is the class for the morning, which gains logic skill! With lunch, after some routing issues, we talk to Dennis McMillan. And the mean kid again...who’s a klepto! Great! Keep at arms length, that guy! Hmm. Not able to add him on Social Bunny. Might be the slightly bad relationship, alas! Anyway, adding Dylan and sending some friendly messages to other teens who aren’t here and aren’t our friends. Yet. Pop up during Science class was evidently someone messing with the PA system during class. I didn’t have Autumn do anything but appreciate the prank but our new teacher is now suspicious of us. Welp. I was going to see if Dennis would leave the lot because he’s a football guy but apparently not! Well, let’s befriend! Annnd it’s done! Onto the mean guy! We’re now able to add him on Social Bunny since our relationship is in the green! Annnnnd she’s crushing on him. My god. Autumn has had only one good choice in crush! -scribbles down notes for the future- And that makes 9 friends! Let’s make it 10! Let’s drop by Anton’s house!

...ironically enough, in terms of traits, and in spite of being a vampire, I think Anton is the quote unquote best match for Autumn. Funny that! Friend made! Let’s head home! And eat and take a shower and make another lifestyle review! Bills are 14 thousand this time. Sadly, we are just under not being able to pay them. Just a slight cash injection to get above the threshold. Ah, and once again, Autumn is to cross-promote at a venue. That we can do – after school tomorrow. And as for Freddie in the very brief time we’ve had with him? Just wanted to critique some art and listen to some tunes. Couldn’t do much more than that.

Neighborhood Watch!

Beatriz Daniel in the Daniel household has died. Beatriz fell for a cowplant’s cake bait. She could not have her cake and eat it too.

Nikolas Horner in the Horner househhold has died. Nikolas let it go and froze solid.

Autumn is up at 4AM. Her needs are fine at least. Still has cross-promote at a venue but...eh, what’s open at 5AM? Probably still should head out somewhere though. With some of her free time. That first, I’m bringing a sack lunch. Even if I’m not playing as her today. Really just don’t much care for the school lunches. Ah, the Bus Stop. Sketchy teen-hangout. And the only one I consistently think about. Probably should also make the park at Copperdale a teen hangout.

This gal looks a lot like Shioban Fyres. It’s the hair. And she’s a football team member! Good for her. (It’s also a stand-in for sports in general, I suppose) Don’t want to leave just yet so I’ll play some chess and then just let Autumn do whatever. Her homework apparently. Off to school alone so control heads back to Freddie.

Let’s see, should think about more parties for Freddie. Hmm. Don’t need to goal an event in particular so let’s go for a dance party! Let’s see...man, I do only have a few Nightclubs in game. Not really too many particular areas I want to house Nightclubs at! Del Sol Valley is “closer” than Windenburg so let’s go there. You know what this means? New party clothes! But we’re not going to trendi! We’re going to the retail lot in Magnolia Promenade. I use retail lots way too infrequently. And it ties in so nicely with his materialistic and admire recent possessions want.

In my search for cooler Magnolia Promenade lots, I found this one by QueenOfMeowreen, now just recently added with those High School Years lot racks! Mm. I did make an outfit but ehhh, I might just head back home to fully finish my idea. Besides which, I think most of the things are available in CAS anyway so meh! Mostly it’s because we still have items missing from the last time Autumn was in there and they’re not back yet so...don’t want to mess with it.

Reason 2 is that there is a much better pants selection in CAS than there is on the racks. Got an outfit I’m satisfied with! But I have not “purchased” anything. Hmm. There’s also a furniture store across the street. Let’s look and see what they have for sale.

WHAT IS THAT!? This is also a gallery download and I have never seen that drink stand before! Let’s see, fish taco, haddock and hamburger. Coffee and Apple Cider. Also pet supplies. Must be a Cats and Dogs one. And now I’m looking at the furniture and going...decision paralysis! AAAAAH. This is why I get things off the Gallery! ...and everyone is hanging around the stereo. Bah. If we’re going to listen to tunes, we’re going home.

Hmm. Seem to have trouble making posts on Social Bunny. Want to post about the new outfit, since, ya know, that’s what I got and didn’t work! -shrug- We also don’t have much money so uh, let’s go off somewhere and do some yoga. Willow Creek’s park will do! Yoga at the park! Autumn returns from school and is now a B student! Good for her. I won’t aim for A but if she gets it, that’ll be fine. Yoga was all members of the Garden Gnomes. Eh, I’ll take it. All Sims’ll pay anyway! It’s now supper-time and there are no food stalls around here but I know there are in the business district! ...or I could grill but if I’m to grill, I want to be able to take the food home and we got dance party in less than 3 hours. Having soup and coffee! Coffee to energize us to DANCE! And did some flirting with Demetrus Pyor before the dance party started. He’s pretty attractive, so hooray. And a Dog Lover. Nice. And perhaps a Snob as well. Double nice.

It is time to dance! And so the crew shows up to dance! The person we’re primally talking to, Ian Pearson, seems angry. Perhaps it’s the fact he showed up and tried to be my bestie and I was eh? Let’s try to calm him down with a drink! And order one for ourself! Annnd get stuck at the DJ. Reset object debug time! Throne Bailey is also hanging out here so I guess let’s snap some pictures! And with that, the dance party is- ...that doesn’t count for the aspiration. BAH. CHEAT TO MAKE IT COUNT. Bedtime for both Autumn and Freddie now.

Neighborhood Watch!

Forgotten Hollow: The Swaminathan household moved out.

[bao3bei4]

fan language: the victorian imaginary and cnovel fandom

there’s this pinterest image i’ve seen circulating a lot in the past year i’ve been on fandom social media. it’s a drawn infographic of a, i guess, asian-looking woman holding a fan in different places relative to her face to show what the graphic helpfully calls “the language of the fan.”

people like sharing it. they like thinking about what nefarious ancient chinese hanky code shenanigans their favorite fan-toting character might get up to⁠—accidentally or on purpose. and what’s the problem with that?

the problem is that fan language isn’t chinese. it’s victorian. and even then, it’s not really quite victorian at all. 

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

fans served a primarily utilitarian purpose throughout chinese history. of course, most of the surviving fans we see⁠—and the types of fans we tend to care about⁠—are closer to art pieces. but realistically speaking, the majority of fans were made of cheaper material for more mundane purposes. in china, just like all around the world, people fanned themselves. it got hot!

so here’s a big tipoff. it would be very difficult to use a fan if you had an elaborate language centered around fanning yourself.

you might argue that fine, everyday working people didn’t have a fan language. but wealthy people might have had one. the problem we encounter here is that fans weren’t really gendered. (caveat here that certain types of fans were more popular with women. however, those tended to be the round silk fans, ones that bear no resemblance to the folding fans in the graphic). no disrespect to the gnc old man fuckers in the crowd, but this language isn’t quite masc enough for a tool that someone’s dad might regularly use.

folding fans, we know, reached europe in the 17th century and gained immense popularity in the 18th. it was there that fans began to take on a gendered quality. ariel beaujot describes in their 2012 victorian fashion accessories how middle class women, in the midst of a top shortage, found themselves clutching fans in hopes of securing a husband.

she quotes an article from the illustrated london news, suggesting “women ‘not only’ used fans to ‘move the air and cool themselves but also to express their sentiments.’” general wisdom was that the movement of the fan was sufficiently expressive that it augmented a woman’s displays of emotion. and of course, the more english audiences became aware that it might do so, the more they might use their fans purposefully in that way.

notice, however, that this is no more codified than body language in general is. it turns out that “the language of the fan” was actually created by fan manufacturers at the turn of the 20th century⁠—hundreds of years after their arrival⁠ in europe—to sell more fans. i’m not even kidding right now. the story goes that it was louis duvelleroy of the maison duvelleroy who decided to include pamphlets on the language with each fan sold.

interestingly enough, beaujot suggests that it didn’t really matter what each particular fan sign meant. gentlemen could tell when they were being flirted with. as it happens, meaningful eye contact and a light flutter near the face may be a lingua franca.

so it seems then, the language of the fan is merely part of this victorian imaginary we collectively have today, which in turn itself was itself captivated by china.

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

victorian references come up perhaps unexpectedly often in cnovel fandom, most often with regards to modesty.

it’s a bit of an awkward reference considering that chinese traditional fashion⁠—and the ambiguous time periods in which these novels are set⁠—far predate victorian england. it is even more awkward considering that victoria and her covered ankles did um. imperialize china.

but nonetheless, it is common. and to make a point about how ubiquitous it is, here is a link to the twitter search for “sqq victorian.” sqq is the fandom abbreviation for shen qingqiu, the main character of the scum villain’s self-saving system, by the way.

this is an awful lot of results for a search involving a chinese man who spends the entire novel in either real modern-day china or fantasy ancient china. that’s all i’m going to say on the matter, without referencing any specific tweet.

i think people are aware of the anachronism. and i think they don’t mind. even the most cursory research reveals that fan language is european and a revisionist fantasy. wikipedia can tell us this⁠—i checked!

but it doesn’t matter to me whether people are trying to make an internally consistent canon compliant claim, or whether they’re just free associating between fan facts they know. it is, instead, more interesting to me that people consistently refer to this particular bit of history. and that’s what i want to talk about today⁠—the relationship of fandom today to this two hundred odd year span of time in england (roughly stuart to victorian times) and england in that time period to its contemporaneous china.

things will slip a little here. victorian has expanded in timeframe, if only because random guys posting online do not care overly much for respect for the intricacies of british history. china has expanded in geographic location, if only because the english of the time themselves conflated china with all of asia.

in addition, note that i am critiquing a certain perspective on the topic. this is why i write about fan as white here⁠—not because all fans are white⁠—but because the tendencies i’m examining have a clear historical antecedent in whiteness that shapes how white fans encounter these novels.

i’m sure some fans of color participate in these practices. however i don’t really care about that. they are not its main perpetrators nor its main beneficiaries. so personally i am minding my own business on that front.

it’s instead important to me to illuminate the linkage between white as subject and chinese as object in history and in the present that i do argue that fannish products today are built upon.

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

it’s not radical, or even new at all, for white audiences to consume⁠—or create their own versions of⁠—chinese art en masse. in many ways the white creators who appear to owe their whole style and aesthetic to their asian peers in turn are just the new chinoiserie.

this is not to say that white people can’t create asian-inspired art. but rather, i am asking you to sit with the discomfort that you may not like the artistic company you keep in the broader view of history, and to consider together what is to be done about that.

now, when i say the new chinoiserie, i first want to establish what the original one is. chinoiserie was a european artistic movement that appeared coincident with the rise in popularity of folding fans that i described above. this is not by coincidence; the european demand for asian imports and the eventual production of lookalikes is the movement itself. so: when we talk about fans, when we talk about china (porcelain), when we talk about tea in england⁠—we are talking about the legacy of chinoiserie.

there are a couple things i want to note here. while english people as a whole had a very tenuous knowledge of what china might be, their appetites for chinoiserie were roughly coincident with national relations with china. as the relationship between england and china moved from trade to out-and-out wars, chinoiserie declined in popularity until china had been safely subjugated once more by the end of the 19th century.

the second thing i want to note on the subject that contrary to what one might think at first, the appeal of chinoiserie was not that it was foreign. eugenia zuroski’s 2013 taste for china examines 18th century english literature and its descriptions of the according material culture with the lens that chinese imports might be formative to english identity, rather than antithetical to it.

beyond that bare thesis, i think it’s also worthwhile to extend her insight that material objects become animated by the literary viewpoints on them. this is true, both in a limited general sense as well as in the sense that english thinkers of the time self-consciously articulated this viewpoint. consider the quote from the illustrated london news above⁠—your fan, that object, says something about you. and not only that, but the objects you surround yourself with ought to.

it’s a bit circular, the idea that written material says that you should allow written material to shape your understanding of physical objects. but it’s both 1) what happened, and 2) integral, i think, to integrating a fannish perspective into the topic.

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

japanning is the name for the popular imitative lacquering that english craftspeople developed in domestic response to the demand for lacquerware imports. in the eighteenth century, japanning became an artform especially suited for young women. manuals were published on the subject, urging young women to learn how to paint furniture and other surfaces, encouraging them to rework the designs provided in the text.

it was considered a beneficial activity for them; zuroski describes how it was “associated with commerce and connoisseurship, practical skill and aesthetic judgment.” a skillful japanner, rather than simply obscuring what lay underneath the lacquer, displayed their superior judgment in how they chose to arrange these new canonical figures and effects in a tasteful way to bring out the best qualities of them.

zuroski quotes the first english-language manual on the subject, written in 1688, which explains how japanning allows one to:

alter and correct, take out a piece from one, add a fragment to the next, and make an entire garment compleat in all its parts, though tis wrought out of never so many disagreeing patterns.

this language evokes a very different, very modern practice. it is this english reworking of an asian artform that i think the parallels are most obvious.

white people, through their artistic investment in chinese material objects and aesthetics, integrated them into their own subjectivity. these practices came to say something about the people who participated in them, in a way that had little to do with the country itself. their relationship changed from being a “consumer” of chinese objects to becoming the proprietor of these new aesthetic signifiers.

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

i want to talk about this through a few pairs of tensions on the subject that i think characterize common attitudes then and now.

first, consider the relationship between the self and the other: the chinese object as something that is very familiar to you, speaking to something about your own self vs. the chinese object as something that is fundamentally different from you and unknowable to you. 

consider: [insert character name] is just like me. he would no doubt like the same things i like, consume the same cultural products. we are the same in some meaningful way vs. the fast standard fic disclaimer that “i tried my best when writing this fic, but i’m a english-speaking westerner, and i’m just writing this for fun so...... [excuses and alterations the person has chosen to make in this light],” going hand-in-hand with a preoccupation with authenticity or even overreliance on the unpaid labor of chinese friends and acquaintances. 

consider: hugh honour when he quotes a man from the 1640s claiming “chinoiserie of this even more hybrid kind had become so far removed from genuine Chinese tradition that it was exported from India to China as a novelty to the Chinese themselves” 

these tensions coexist, and look how they have been resolved.

second, consider what we vest in objects themselves: beaujot explains how the fan became a sexualized, coquettish object in the hands of a british woman, but was used to great effect in gilbert and sullivan’s 1885 mikado to demonstrate the docility of asian women. 

consider: these characters became expressions of your sexual desires and fetishes, even as their 5’10 actors themselves are emasculated.

what is liberating for one necessitates the subjugation and fetishization of the other. 

third, consider reactions to the practice: enjoyment of chinese objects as a sign of your cosmopolitan palate vs “so what’s the hype about those ancient chinese gays” pop culture explainers that addressed the unconvinced mainstream.

consider: zuroski describes how both english consumers purchased china in droves, and contemporary publications reported on them. how: 

It was in the pages of these papers that the growing popularity of Chinese things in the early eighteenth century acquired the reputation of a “craze”; they portrayed china fanatics as flawed, fragile, and unreliable characters, and frequently cast chinoiserie itself in the same light.

referenda on fannish behavior serve as referenda on the objects of their devotion, and vice versa. as the difference between identity and fetish collapses, they come to be treated as one and the same by not just participants but their observers. 

at what point does mxtx fic cease to be chinese? 

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

finally, it seems readily apparent that attitudes towards chinese objects may in fact have something to do with attitudes about china as a country. i do not want to suggest that these literary concerns are primarily motivated and begot by forces entirely divorced from the real mechanics of power. 

here, i want to bring in edward said, and his 1993 culture and imperialism. there, he explains how power and legitimacy go hand in hand. one is direct, and one is purely cultural. he originally wrote this in response to the outsize impact that british novelists have had in the maintenance of empire and throughout decolonization. literature, he argues, gives rise to powerful narratives that constrain our ability to think outside of them.

there’s a little bit of an inversion at play here. these are chinese novels, actually. but they’re being transformed by white narratives and artists. and just as i think the form of the novel is important to said’s critique, i think there’s something to be said about the form that fic takes and how it legitimates itself.

bound up in fandom is the idea that you have a right to create and transform as you please. it is a nice idea, but it is one that is directed towards a certain kind of asymmetry. that is, one where the author has all the power. this is the narrative we hear a lot in the history of fandom⁠—litigious authors and plucky fans, fanspaces always under attack from corporate sanitization.

meanwhile, said builds upon raymond schwab’s narrative of cultural exchange between european writers and cultural products outside the imperial core. said explains that fundamental to these two great borrowings (from greek classics and, in the so-called “oriental renaissance” of the late 18th, early 19th centuries from “india, china, japan, persia, and islam”) is asymmetry. 

he had argued prior, in orientalism, that any “cultural exchange” between “partners conscious of inequality” always results in the suffering of the people. and here, he describes how “texts by dead people were read, appreciated, and appropriated” without the presence of any actual living people in that tradition. 

i will not understate that there is a certain economic dynamic complicating this particular fannish asymmetry. mxtx has profited materially from the success of her works, most fans will not. also secondly, mxtx is um. not dead. LMAO.

but first, the international dynamic of extraction that said described is still present. i do not want to get overly into white attitudes towards china in this post, because i am already thoroughly derailed, but i do believe that they structure how white cnovel fandom encounters this texts.

at any rate, any profit she receives is overwhelmingly due to her domestic popularity, not her international popularity. (i say this because many of her international fans have never given her a cent. in fact, most of them have no real way to.) and moreover, as we talk about the structure of english-language fandom, what does it mean to create chinese cultural products without chinese people? 

as white people take ownership over their versions of stories, do we lose something? what narratives about engagement with cnovels might exist outside of the form of classic fandom?

i think a lot of people get the relationship between ideas (the superstructure) and production (the base) confused. oftentimes they will lob in response to criticism, that look! this fic, this fandom, these people are so niche, and so underrepresented in mainstream culture, that their effects are marginal. i am not arguing that anyone’s cql fic causes imperialism. (unless you’re really annoying. then it’s anyone’s game) 

i’m instead arguing something a little bit different. i think, given similar inputs, you tend to get similar outputs. i think we live in the world that imperialism built, and we have clear historical predecessors in terms of white appetites for creating, consuming, and transforming chinese objects. 

we have already seen, in the case of the fan language meme that began this post, that sometimes we even prefer this white chinoiserie. after all, isn’t it beautiful, too? 

i want to bring discomfort to this topic. i want to reject the paradigm of white subject and chinese object; in fact, here in this essay, i have tried to reverse it.

if you are taken aback by the comparisons i make here, how can you make meaningful changes to your fannish practice to address it? 

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

some concluding thoughts on the matter, because i don’t like being misunderstood! 

i am not claiming white fans cannot create fanworks of cnovels or be inspired by asian art or artists. this essay is meant to elaborate on the historical connection between victorian england and cnovel characters and fandom that others have already popularized.

i don’t think people who make victorian jokes are inherently bad or racist. i am encouraging people to think about why we might make them and/or share them

the connections here are meant to be more provocative than strictly literal. (e.g. i don’t literally think writing fanfic is a 1-1 descendant of japanning). these connections are instead meant to 1) make visible the baggage that fans of color often approach fandom with and 2) recontextualize and defamiliarize fannish practice for the purposes of honest critique

please don’t turn this post into being about other different kinds of discourse, or into something that only one “kind” of fan does. please take my words at face value and consider them in good faith. i would really appreciate that.

please feel free to ask me to clarify any statements or supply more in-depth sources :) 

[that-disabled-radfem]

Happy back-to-school y’all

I’ve attended and worked at a couple of super liberal universities. I avoid the gender studies departments for obvious reasons and I still had a lecture in which the female prof gave a brief overview of TERFs and proclaimed her hatred of JKR. Being openly critical of gender ideology, the porn industry, kinks, and ‘sex work’ are the kind of things that can ruin your future in academia. Not to mention the fact that any speech or actions that could be labelled transphobic (ie. defining woman as adult human female) can get you a suspension according to many universities anti-hate-speech policies. 

So, here’s a list of small and smallish (small in terms of overt TERFery, some may require more effort than others) radical feminist actions you can take as a university student:

(this is a liberal arts perspective so if you’re a stem gal this may not apply. but also if you’re in stem maybe you can actually acknowledge that women are oppressed as a sex class without getting kicked out of school. idk)

(Note for TRAs hate reading this: One of the core actions of radical feminism is creating female networks. This is not so that we can brainwash people into being anti-trans. This is because female solidarity is necessary for creating class consciousness and overturning patriarchy. It is harder to subjugate the female sex when we stand together.)

Take classes with female profs. Multiple sections of a class? Pick the one taught by a woman. Have to chose an elective? Only look at electives offered by women. When classes have low numbers they get cancelled. When classes are super popular, universities are forced to consider promoting the faculty that teach them

Make relationships with these female profs. Go to office hours. Chat after class. Ask them about their research. Building female networks is sooooo important!

Actually fill in your end of year course feedback forms. Profs often need these when applying for tenure or applying for a job at another university so it is very important (especially with young and/or new profs) that you fill out these forms and give specific examples of how great these women are. Go off about what you love about them! Give her a brilliant review because you know the idiot boy in that class who won’t shut up even though he knows nothing is going to give her only negative feedback because he thinks any woman who leaves the house is a feminazi b*tch. 

(note: obviously don’t go praising any prof - female or male - who is blatantly racist, homophobic, etc.)

(Also if you have shitty male profs write down all the horrible things they have done and said and put it in these forms because once a shitty man gets tenure they are virtually untouchable)

(also also, leave a good review on rate my profs or whatever other thing students use to figure out if they want to take classes. idc if you copy paste your feedback from the formal review. rave about the class to your friends. do what you can to get good enrolment for that prof for reasons above.)

Participate in class. Talk over the male students. Say what you mean and mean it. Call out the boys when they say dumb shit

Write about women. If you have the option to make a text written by a woman your primary text in an essay, do it. Pick the female-centred option if you’re writing an exam-essay with multiple prompts. (Profs often look at what works on their syllabus are being written about/engaged with as a marker of whether to keep those texts the next time they teach the class. If there are badass women on your syllabus, write about them to keep them on the syllabus) Use female-written secondary sources whenever possible. 

(pro tip: many women in academia are more than happy to talk to you about their papers. expand your female networks by reaching out to article authors through email and asking them about their cool shit)

Get your essays published! Many departments have undergrad journals you can publish in. This will ensure more people read about the women you write about and will demonstrate to the department that people like learning about women

Consider trying to publish your undergrad essay with a legit peer-reviewed journal. If you can do it, your use of female-written secondary sources boosts the reputations of the women who wrote those secondary sources. Also this helps generally to increase scholarship about women’s writing!

Present your papers at conferences! Many schools have their own undergraduate/departmental conferences that you can present at. Push yourself by submitting to outside conferences. Bring attention to women’s works by presenting your papers. Take a space at a conference that would otherwise be reserved for mediocre men

Talk to your profs and/or your department and/or your university about mandating the inclusion of female works in classes if this isn’t something they do already

Sit next to other women in your classes. Talk to them. Make friends. Form study groups. Proofread each other’s essays. Give each other knowing looks when the boys are being dumb. Just interact with other women! Build those female networks!

Be generous with your compliments. A female classmate and I were talking to a prof after class and the classmate told me (out of the blue) that I always have such interesting things to say. I think about that whenever I’m lacking confidence about my academic skills. Compliment the women in your classes for speaking up, for sharing their opinions, for challenging your classmates/profs, for doing cool presentations, etc.

Talk to other women about sexist things going on on campus. Make everyone aware of the sexist profs. Complain about how there are many more tenured men than tenured women. Go on rate my professor and be explicit about how the sexist profs are sexist

Be active on campus and in societies. If a society has an all male executive or is male-dominated, any women who join that society make it less intimidating for more women to join. Run for executive positions! Bring in more women! 

(Pro tip: Many societies’ elections are super gameable. You can be eligible to vote in a society election sometimes just by being a student at that university — even without having done anything with the society before. Other societies might just require that you’ve taken a class in a particular department or attended a society event. (Check the society’s governing documents.) Use those female networks you’ve been building. If you can bring three or four random people to vote for you, that might be enough for you to win. Societies have trouble meeting quorum (the minimum number of people in attendance to do votes) so it is really super achievable to rig an election with a few friends. And don’t feel bad about this. The system is rigged against women so you have every right to exploit loopholes!)

(Also feel free to go vote “non-confidence”/“re-open election” if only shitty men are running. Too often people see that only candidates they don’t like are running and so they give up. But you can actually stop them getting elected)

Your campus may have a LGBTQIA+alphabetsoup society. That society definitely needs more L and B women representation. It may be tedious to argue with the nb straight dudes who insist that it’s fine to use “q***r” in the society’s posters and that attraction has nothing to do with genitals, but just imagine what could happen if we could make these sorts of societies actually safe spaces for same-sex attracted women and advocated for our concerns

Attend random societies’ election meetings. Get women elected and peace out. (or actually get involved but I’m trying to emphasize the lowest commitment option with this one)

Write for the campus newspaper. Write about what women are doing - women’s sports, cool society activities, whatever. Review female movies, books, tv shows, local theatre productions. Write about sexism on campus. We need more female by-lines and more stories about women

Get involved with your campus’s sexual assault & r*pe hotline/sexual assault survivor’s centre/whatever similar organization your campus has if you can. This is hard work and definitely not for everyone (pls take care of yourself first, especially if you are a survivor)

(If your campus doesn’t have an organization for supporting survivor’s of sexualized violence, start one! This is probably going to be a lot of hard work though, so don’t do it alone)

Talk to your student council about providing free menstrual hygiene products on campus if your campus doesn’t already do this. If your campus provides free condoms (which they probs do), use that as leverage (ie. ‘sex is optional, menstruation is not. so why do we have free condoms and no free pads?’)

If you’re an older student, get involved with younger students (orientation week and such activities are good for this). Show the freshman that you can be a successful and well-liked woman without shaving your legs, wearing heels, wearing make-up, etc. Mentor these young women. Offer to go for coffee or proofread essays. 

Come to class looking like a human being. Be visibly make-up less, unshaven, unfeminine, etc. to show off the many different ways of being a woman

Talk to the custodial staff and learn their names. (I know there are men who work in this profession, but it is dominated by low-income women) Say hi in the hallways, ask them about their lives, show them they’re appreciated

Be explicit with your language. When you are talking about sex-based oppression, say it. Don’t say ‘sex worker’ when you mean survivor of human trafficking. This tip is obviously a bit tricky in terms of overt TERFyness, so use your best judgement

That’s all from me for now! Feel free to add your suggestions and remember that feminism is about action

[fandom-smut-shots]

Keith Kogane - I’m Not Going Anywhere

Not Going Anywhere

A/N: Modern life AU.

Also, any genders and pronouns are acceptable to request. If not specified, I default to female, because that’s the majority of reader inserts in my experience.

Summary: You’ve been dating Keith for about six months, but you’ve only recently met his group of friends. He’s worried that they each have more to offer you than he does, and his insecurities eat away at him until you calm him down.

Words: 2,063

           “Your girlfriend is coming to the party, right?”

         Keith froze, glancing up at Shiro where the older man stood beside the stove, preparing a pot of spinach artichoke dip. He was a disaster at cooking actual food, but he’d managed to learn to prepare dips like a boss.

         “Uh…” was all the black-haired boy managed in response, shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

         “Come on, Keith,” Shiro chided gently, employing his best Older Brother voice. “You’ve been seeing this girl for, what, six months now? I think it’s time I met her. And what better time to introduce her to the gang than at your birthday party?”

         “Do I have to introduce her to everyone?” Keith whined, glaring down at his breakfast. “Can’t she just meet you and be done with it?”

         Shiro sighed, turning to argue when he caught sight of his brother’s expression. Keith wasn’t one for expressing his emotions, so Shiro had learned early on how to read the arch of his brow and the shine of his eyes. Keith currently looked crestfallen, which given the circumstances meant that insecurities were buzzing around inside his head.

         “It’s going to be fine, Keith,” the older boy commented, taking a seat across from Keith at the table. “Everyone is going to love her, and she’s going to love your friends.”

         “That’s what I’m worried about,” was all Keith murmured before he stood, setting his cereal bowl in the sink before turning to skulk down the hallway towards his room.

           “I’d love to go to his birthday party!” you squealed into the phone, balancing it between your ear and your shoulder so you had free use of your hands. “I’m almost done decorating his cake. I could bring it with me!”

         “He’d love that,” Shiro chuckled on the other end. “We’re not a baking-inclined family, so it’s always store-bought cakes for us.”

         “He told me he just wanted to do something simple to celebrate with me,” you returned, swirling icing atop the cake to add calligraphic decoration to Keith’s name. “I wonder why he didn’t tell me you were throwing him a party.”

         “He doesn’t like being the center of attention,” Shiro reasoned.

         You hummed in agreement. “That’s true.” Setting the piping bag on the counter, you paused, a frown forming on your lips. “It’s not… He wants me to come, right? He won’t be mad that you invited me?”

         Shiro sighed into the receiver, and you bit your lip nervously. “He’ll be upset that I went behind his back, but I know him very well, and I think he’d enjoy the party a lot more if you were there. He’s just nervous about you meeting his friends. They can be a handful.”

         “If you’re sure,” you replied. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your boyfriend while trying to celebrate his birthday. “I’ll be there. With a cake.”

         “Perfect,” the man on the phone replied. “I’ll see you tonight. It’ll be great, I promise.”

         You hung up the phone and set it on the counter, admiring your handiwork on your boyfriend’s cake. Exhaling softly, you tried to believe Shiro’s words. Everything would be fine.

           Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the front door of Shiro and Keith’s shared house. Carefully balancing the cake with one hand, you raised the other to knock on the door, waiting patiently but anxiously for someone to answer. The door opened to reveal Shiro, smiling widely upon seeing you on the other side.

         “(y/n)! It’s so great to meet you!” he greeted enthusiastically. “I’m Shiro, Keith’s older brother. I apologize if I startled you with that phone call earlier – I wasn’t sure Keith would actually follow through and invite you.”

         “He didn’t,” you giggled. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve been wanting to meet you for months.”

         “Let me take that for you,” he offered, easing the cake out of your hold. He headed inside, nodding for you to follow him. You closed the door behind you, following the tall man- like seriously, how was he that tall?-  into the kitchen. There stood a thicker boy, nearly as tall as Shiro, stirring and chopping like a professional chef.

         “That cheese sauce smells amazing, Hunk,” Shiro complimented the cook, placing the cake on the counter.

         “It’s almost done- ooh, where’d the cake come from?” the cook inquired.

         “Keith’s girlfriend.”

         The spoon being used to stir the cheese sauce fell to the floor with a clink, gooey cheese splashing all over the tile.

         “Keith’s what?!”

         The tall, tanned cook spun on his heel, a grin splitting his lips as he caught sight of you. “She’s real!”

         Shiro laughed softly, stepping closer to you. “Hunk, this is (y/n). (y/n), this is Hunk, our resident chef. He shares a few classes with Keith.”

         “I’m an engineering major,” Hunk explained, offering his hand. You placed your comparably tiny hand in his, giggling softly.

         “It’s nice to meet you. Keith has mentioned your cooking.”

         Hunk’s eyes sparkled at the confirmation that the emotionally constipated raven appreciated his food before he turned back to the stove.

         “Hey, Shiro, what-“ Keith stopped in his tracks as he entered the kitchen, his eyes widening as he stared at you. “(y/n)? What are you doing here?”

         “I invited her because I knew you wouldn’t,” Shiro explained.

         “It’s okay that I’m here, right, babe?” you questioned, brows furrowing with worry as you took Keith’s hands in yours.

         “Babe?” teased an unfamiliar voice. “Keith lets someone call him babe?” A tall, thin brunet sauntered into view, resting his elbow on your boyfriend’s shoulder. “Hey, who’s the hottie? She’s- ow!”

         Keith’s elbow collided with the brunet’s rib, and he stepped away.

         “Yeah, it’s okay,” Keith murmured, lacing his fingers with yours, but you could hear the uncertainty in his voice. You stood up on your toes, pressing your lips to his, and he melted into the gesture despite having an audience. The brunet from before whistled at the sight, and Keith pulled back with a glare in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks.

         “I’m (y/n,” you introduced, offering your hand.

         “The name’s Lance,” the tan brunet grinned, taking your hand in his and lightly kissing your knuckles. You simply raised a brow in response, unsurprised when Keith ripped Lance’s hand away from yours.

         “She’s taken,” he growled, wrapping an arm around your waist. You giggled softly, resting your head on Keith’s shoulder.

         “Is that everyone?” you inquired, looking towards Shiro.

         “Hunk!” another voice called from the hallway. “Are the nachos done? I’m starving- oh, hey.”

         Finally, someone not insanely tall.

         “I’m Pidge,” they offered, lifting their hand to their head in a salute. “You must be Keith’s girlfriend.”

         “(y/n),” you countered. “Are you another friend of his?”

         Pidge stole a chip from the bowl on the table, popping it into their mouth. “If that’s what we’re calling it. I’m friends with Lance and Hunk, and they kinda forced Keith to join the group.”

         “I encouraged it,” Shiro replied. “My brother needs social skills.”

         “I have plenty of social skills,” Keith grumbled in response.

         Lance snickered loudly, Pidge choked on a ship, and Hunk chuckled from his place at the stove.

         “I got myself a girlfriend without your interference, didn’t I?” your boyfriend defended, his grip around your wait tightening.

         “How did you two meet, anyway?” Pidge questioned.

         “I’m an art major,” you replied. “We met in Interpretive Painting.”

         “Keith takes art classes?” Lance gasped, his voice raising several octaves.

         “Makes sense,” Pidge shrugged.

         “Interpretive Painting?” Hunk repeated. “That sounds like fun.”

         “Ah, someone who will encourage my brother to keep working on his art,” Shiro smiled. “I already love her.”

         Keith used his hand on your waist to guide you away from the others, leading you to the living room. He sat on the couch, pulling you onto his lap, securing his arms around you. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers toying with his thick raven hair. His nose nuzzled into your neck as he inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of your body wash.

         “Why didn’t you want me to meet them?” you inquired softly. “They seem nice.”

         “Too nice,” he murmured against your skin. “They’ll take you away from me.”

         You pulled away from Keith just enough to lift his head, caressing his jaw with your hand, gazing softly into his violet eyes. “You don’t really think that, do you?”

         His gaze dropped somewhere behind you – a tell that the current situation made him vulnerable and insecure.

         “You heard them in there. I’m not social. How many times have you told me I suck at texting back? If you hadn’t been so friendly, I wouldn’t have even been able to ask you out.”

         “So?” you questioned, brushing your thumb across is cheekbone. “I’m dating you, aren’t I? If you being anti-social was an issue, I wouldn’t have said yes.”

         He sighed, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Lance is better at romance and dating. Pidge is smart, and you like a lot of the same games. Hunk can cook actual meals. They have more to offer you.”

         Your heart broke at his honesty. You knew how hard it was for Keith to be so open, even with you. He must have been dreading the day you met his friends if he was this concerned about it.

         Taking his face in your hands, you lifted his head until you can access his mouth. You gently pressed your lips to his, pouring your emotions into the kiss. He sighed softly against your lips, his arms tightening around your waist. You let one hand slide back to tangle in his hair, gently tugging on the strands.

         “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised between kisses. “I love you, Keith. Befriending your friends means I get to spend more time with you and learn more about you. They’re not going to take me from you, I promise.”

         “Dinner is done!” Hunk’s voice called from the kitchen.

         You slid off of Keith’s lap, much to his dismay, and offered him a hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go eat.”

         He took your hand, lacing your fingers and squeezing softly as he followed you into the kitchen. Chips, cheese, meat, and vegetables decorated the table as a homemade nacho bar for everyone to dig into. Keith’s amethyst eyes danced around the kitchen, landing on an unfamiliar container on the counter.

         “What’s that?” he inquired, turning his gaze to Hunk.

         Hunk grinned. “(y/n) brought it.”

         “It’s your cake,” you replied, shoving a fully-coated nacho into your mouth.

         “You made me a cake?” Keith questioned, his eyes softening as he looked at you.

         “The plan was for us to have a private party after you were done here,” you shrugged. “When Shiro invited me, I figured I might as well bring the cake.”

         Keith dipped his head, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. Lance and Pidge cat-called from somewhere behind you, but Keith didn’t seem to mind. Shiro smiled from behind Keith, shaking his head softly.

           After dinner and cake were thoroughly enjoyed, you followed Keith and his friends to the living room to watch movies. He sat on the couch and you reclaimed your place on his lap, snuggling into his chest. His hands intertwined with yours, his fingertips brushing your knuckles, and you peppered soft kisses to his jaw, reminding him that you were his.

         While everyone was enthralled in the movie, you turned to face your boyfriend. You untangled a hand from his in order to lift it to his face, cupping his cheek. He turned his gaze from the movie to look at you, a soft expression in his eyes that only you were allowed to see. You shifted in his lap, pulling his lips down to yours. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, gently nipping at your lower lip with his teeth. You were tempted to give in until you recalled your company, reluctantly breaking the kiss and settling back against his chest.

         “I’m not going anywhere,” you murmured softly, squeezing his hand as you watched the movie. The kiss he pressed to the side of your head told you that he understood, and while you knew his insecurities wouldn’t be magically washed away, you also knew that he was trying and that was more than enough for you.

[uomo-accattivante]

Excellent article about bringing a re-make of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage to fruition, and the twenty-year friendship that Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain share:

There were days on the shoot for “Scenes From a Marriage,” a five-episode limited series that premieres Sept. 12 on HBO, when Oscar Isaac resented the crew.

The problem wasn’t the crew members themselves, he told me on a video call in March. But the work required of him and his co-star, Jessica Chastain, was so unsparingly intimate — “And difficult!” Chastain added from a neighboring Zoom window — that every time a camera operator or a makeup artist appeared, it felt like an intrusion.

On his other projects, Isaac had felt comfortably distant from the characters and their circumstances — interplanetary intrigue, rogue A.I. But “Scenes” surveys monogamy and parenthood, familiar territory. Sometimes Isaac would film a bedtime scene with his onscreen child (Lily Jane) and then go home and tuck his own child into the same model of bed as the one used onset, accessorized with the same bunny lamp, and not know exactly where art ended and life began.

“It was just a lot,” he said.

Chastain agreed, though she put it more strongly. “I mean, I cried every day for four months,” she said.

Isaac, 42, and Chastain, 44, have known each other since their days at the Juilliard School. And they have channeled two decades of friendship, admiration and a shared and obsessional devotion to craft into what Michael Ellenberg, one of the series’s executive producers, called “five hours of naked, raw performance.” (That nudity is metaphorical, mostly.)

“For me it definitely felt incredibly personal,” Chastain said on the call in the spring, about a month after filming had ended. “That’s why I don’t know if I have another one like this in me. Yeah, I can’t decide that. I can’t even talk about it without. …” She turned away from the screen. (It was one of several times during the call that I felt as if I were intruding, too.)

The original “Scenes From a Marriage,” created by Ingmar Bergman, debuted on Swedish television in 1973. Bergman’s first television series, its six episodes trace the dissolution of a middle-class marriage. Starring Liv Ullmann, Bergman’s ex, it drew on his own past relationships, though not always directly.

“When it comes to Bergman, the relationship between autobiography and fiction is extremely complicated,” said Jan Holmberg, the chief executive of the Ingmar Bergman Foundation.

A sensation in Sweden, it was seen by most of the adult population. And yes, sure, correlation does not imply causation, but after its debut, Swedish divorce were rumored to have doubled. Holmberg remembers watching a rerun as a 10-year-old.

“It was a rude awakening to adult life,” he said.

The writer and director Hagai Levi saw it as a teenager, on Israeli public television, during a stint on a kibbutz. “I was shocked,” he said. The series taught him that a television series could be radical, that it could be art. When he created “BeTipul,” the Israeli precursor to “In Treatment,” he used “Scenes” as proof of the concept “that two people can talk for an hour and it can work,” Levi said. (Strangely, “Scenes” also inspired the prime-time soap “Dallas.”)

So when Daniel Bergman, Ingmar Bergman’s youngest son, approached Levi about a remake, he was immediately interested.

But the project languished, in part because loving a show isn’t reason enough to adapt it. Divorce is common now — in Sweden, and elsewhere — and the relationship politics of the original series, in which the male character deserts his wife and young children for an academic post, haven’t aged particularly well.

Then about two years ago, Levi had a revelation. He would swap the gender roles. A woman who leaves her marriage and child in pursuit of freedom (with a very hot Israeli entrepreneur in place of a visiting professorship) might still provoke conversation and interest.

So the Marianne and Johan of the original became Mira and Jonathan, with a Boston suburb (re-created in a warehouse just north of New York City), stepping in for the Stockholm of the original. Jonathan remains an academic though Mira, a lawyer in the original, is now a businesswoman who out-earns him.

Casting began in early 2020. After Isaac met with Levi, he wrote to Chastain to tell her about the project. She wasn’t available. The producers cast Michelle Williams. But the pandemic reshuffled everyone’s schedules. When production was ready to resume, Williams was no longer free. Chastain was. “That was for me the most amazing miracle,” Levi said.

Isaac and Chastain met in the early 2000s at Juilliard. He was in his first year; she, in her third. He first saw her in a scene from a classical tragedy, slapping men in the face as Helen of Troy. He was friendly with her then-boyfriend, and they soon became friends themselves, bonding through the shared trauma of an acting curriculum designed to break its students down and then build them back up again. Isaac remembered her as “a real force of nature and solid, completely solid, with an incredible amount of integrity,” he said.

In the next window, Chastain blushed. “He was super talented,” she said. “But talented in a way that wasn’t expected, that’s challenging and pushing against constructs and ideas.” She introduced him to her manager, and they celebrated each other’s early successes and went to each other’s premieres. (A few of those photos are used in “Scenes From a Marriage” as set dressing.)

In 2013, Chastain was cast in J.C. Chandor’s “A Most Violent Year,”opposite Javier Bardem. When Bardem dropped out, Chastain campaigned for Isaac to have the role. Weeks before shooting, they began to meet, fleshing out the back story of their characters — a husband and wife trying to corner the heating oil market in 1981 New York — the details of the marriage, business, life.

It was their first time working together, and each felt a bond that went deeper than a parallel education and approach. “Something connects us that’s stronger than any ideas of character or story or any of that,” Isaac said. “There’s something else that’s more about like, a shared existence.”

Chandor noticed how they would support each other on set, and challenge each other, too, giving each other the freedom to take the characters’ relationship to dark and dangerous places. “They have this innate trust with each other,” Chandor said.

That trust eliminated the need for actorly tricks or shortcuts, in part because they know each other’s tricks too well. Their motto, Isaac said, was, “Let’s figure this [expletive] out together and see what’s the most honest thing we can do.”

Moni Yakim, Juilliard’s celebrated movement instructor, has followed their careers closely and he noted what he called the “magnetism and spiritual connection” that they suggested onscreen in the film.

“It’s a kind of chemistry,” Yakim said. “They can read each other’s mind and you as an audience, you can sense it.”

Telepathy takes work. When they knew that shooting “Scenes From a Marriage” could begin, Chastain bought a copy of “All About Us,” a guided journal for couples, and filled in her sections in character as Mira. Isaac brought it home and showed it to his wife, the filmmaker Elvira Lind.

“She was like, ‘You finally found your match,’” Isaac recalled. “’Someone that is as big of a nerd as you are.’”

The actors rehearsed, with Levi and on their own, talking their way through each long scene, helping each other through the anguished parts. When production had to halt for two weeks, they rehearsed then, too.

Watching these actors work reminded Amy Herzog, a writer and executive producer on the series, of race horses in full gallop. “These are two people who have so much training and skill,” she said. “Because it’s an athletic feat, what they were being asked to do.”

But training and skill and the “All About Us” book hadn’t really prepared them for the emotional impact of actually shooting “Scenes From a Marriage.” Both actors normally compartmentalize when they work, putting up psychic partitions between their roles and themselves. But this time, the partitions weren’t up to code.

“I knew I was in trouble the very first week,” Chastain said.

She couldn’t hide how the scripts affected her, especially from someone who knows her as well as Isaac does. “I just felt so exposed,” she said. “This to me, more than anything I’ve ever worked on, was definitely the most open I’ve ever been.”

“It felt so dangerous,” she said.

I visited the set in February (after multiple Covid-19 tests and health screenings) during a final day of filming. It was the quietest set I had ever seen: The atmosphere was subdued, reverent almost, a crew and a studio space stripped down to only what two actors would need to do the most passionate and demanding work of their careers.

Isaac didn’t know if he would watch the completed series. “It really is the first time ever, where I’ve done something where I’m totally fine never seeing this thing,” he said. “Because I’ve really lived through it. And in some ways I don’t want whatever they decide to put together to change my experience of it, which was just so intense.”

The cameras captured that intensity. Though Chastain isn’t Mira and Isaac isn’t Jonathan, each drew on personal experience — their parents’ marriages, past relationships — in ways they never had. Sometimes work on the show felt like acting, and sometimes the work wasn’t even conscious. There’s a scene in the harrowing fourth episode in which they both lie crumpled on the floor, an identical stress vein bulging in each forehead.

“It’s my go-to move, the throbbing forehead vein,” Isaac said on a follow-up video call last month. Chastain riffed on the joke: “That was our third year at Juilliard, the throb.”

By then, it had been five months since the shoot wrapped. Life had returned to something like normal. Jokes were possible again. Both of them seemed looser, more relaxed. (Isaac had already poured himself one tequila shot and was ready for another.) No one cried.

Chastain had watched the show with her husband. And Isaac, despite his initial reluctance, had watched it, too. It didn’t seem to have changed his experience.

“I’ve never done anything like it,” he said. “And I can’t imagine doing anything like it again.”

###