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lambden · 2 years

Note

can I request geraskier + 38 for the cliche prompts please? 🥺🥺

post season 2, so watch for spoilers! <3 I had a lot of fun writing this, thank you so much for the prompt!!

38. Everyone thinks we’re already dating, but we’re just best friends- oh wait G, 3.3K, no warnings

At first the bouncing caravan underneath their seats is too much for the bard. Jaskier doesn’t say a word but Yarpen can tell easily from the wince he produces whenever a stone or twig tumbles under their wheels. Yarpen and his company have travelled for long enough that the turbulence fades into ambiance for their journeys. Jaskier hasn’t acclimated yet so the dwarf takes pity on him, opening into a conversation he would otherwise have avoided. “Hey. You play Gwent?”

Startled out of his discomfort and reverie, Jaskier looks his way with wide eyes. “No, I’m afraid not. I had amassed a few cards but haven’t seen them in years, and I have nothing close to a full deck.”

Yarpen could offer the bard one of his decks, but Jaskier clearly has nothing to bet except the coat on his back, and that wouldn’t fit. He hums thoughtfully. “So how did you and the witcher while all the hours away? All those years hunting monsters, two o’ you must’ve picked up some hobbies.”

“Um.” Jaskier fidgets with the tuning fork dangling around his neck. “We kept ourselves occupied… When work was slow, I would compose and he would always pretend not to listen, but I’d notice him dropping words into conversation that I’d used. And we developed a system for preparing potions and poultices and gathering herbs, so we spent a lot of time just wandering, picking flowers.” The man’s eyes cloud over, and his voice takes on a distant tone. “And at night—”

“I get it,” Yarpen quickly interjects, reaching over in a hurry to pat Jaskier’s shoulder. He absolutely doesn’t need to hear the details of how they entertained one another beside their campfires. “How about we stop talking for a little while?”

“Jaskier, wake up!” Yennefer barges into the bard’s room without so much as a knock, the door swinging shut behind her. She crosses straight to the bedside table, clearing up an empty bottle of wine and throwing a shirt in the direction of the grumbling lump of blankets. “Vesemir’s got me on breakfast duty this morning and I’m recruiting you for help because I’ve no idea how to prepare shit, which I told the Master Witcher but he’s obviously under the impression that because I was a court mage I’ll be able to work something out. As if being a woman means I’ve got a natural knack for cooking! Ought to stir some kikimore venom into his fucking eggs. Jaskier. Now.”

“You’ve got the wrong man,” Jaskier whines, burrowing down into the blankets. When Yennefer tugs them away he screams, “Come on! What have I done to you to deserve this treatment? Five more minutes, Yennefer, and then I’ll come help you with your chores— no, please, I’m so cold!”

In the middle of Yennefer vengefully gathering all the covers into her arms and Jaskier writhing and shivering in his smallclothes as he tries to pull them back within reach, the door flies open again. Both bard and sorceress pause their fight, turning to stare at the hulking figure in the doorway. Geralt is panting, eyes wild and frenzied as he looks between them. “Jaskier,” he breathes, clearly reassessing the situation. “You’re all right.”

“Yes, I’m fine, you don’t need to come and check on me every time I so much as raise my voice,” huffs Jaskier hotly. “Not a nightmare, just this nightmarish woman trying to rope me into doing her tasks for her.”

Geralt doesn’t move, his frown only darkening. His shoulders still rise and fall quickly; he must have sprinted up here and abandoned his morning training. Now Yennefer is the one reassessing the situation, glancing from the witcher to the bard curiously.

“I’m fine,” Jaskier repeats, folding his legs under him and stretching as he sits up. He’s only in his smallclothes which don’t leave much to the imagination but Geralt doesn’t react at all. Yennefer wonders perversely if he’s used to the sight. “If you really want to help, leave me be.”

“You asked me not to,” Geralt spits out. “I’m trying, damn it. I’m trying to be here, like you said—”

“Gods, Geralt, I don’t mean ‘leave me alone’, I mean leave my room so that I can sleep in a little longer, it’s hardly dawn!” Running a hand through his already messy hair and disheveling it further, Jaskier groans, “We could have talked about this last night, you know, but all you wanted to do was—”

“I’ll make breakfast myself,” blurts Yennefer. Both men startle and look her way, confirming her suspicion that they had entirely forgotten she was in the room. Geralt at least has the decency to look embarrassed, while Jaskier just sighs and reclines onto the bed. Before either of them can say a word about the lovers’ quarrel or try to explain it away somehow, Yennefer slides past Geralt, patting the witcher on his arm comfortingly.

They’ll figure everything out, she’s certain of it. Nobody makes something like this work for decades by accident. Jaskier has always loved Geralt so much that it hurts to watch. And Geralt seems to want to make it work and mend his mistakes too, so Yennefer backs off without a fight and gives the pair of them their space, shutting the door behind her.

She doesn’t poison breakfast on her own but it’s a close thing, and by the time Jaskier and Geralt finally come downstairs to the dining hall, everyone else is long gone but there’s still plenty of food left.

All the residents of Kaer Morhen are fond of its biggest and best secret, the natural hot springs ensconced inside one of the lower floors. But no one really appreciates them like Coën, who washes his face more often than any of the other witchers combined. While he rarely has time for a proper bath on the path, he has to keep his face clean or else his scars will begin to burn and itch something fierce. His skin tends to flare up when he’s stressed and at Kaer Seren he had often taken trips down to the shoreline to scrub his face, but the rough seawater had only been a temporary salve. The springs here are a gift he doesn’t take for granted.

He’s surprised one night to hear soft noises and a crackling fire from inside the springs, but only because he thought he was the last one awake in the fortress. Coën taps against the stone wall as he approaches, not wanting to disturb the young princess if she’s up late bathing. But the sound doesn’t echo loudly enough to reach the springs’ occupants, so Coën grimaces nervously and rounds the corner. “Didn’t think anyone else would be down here—”

His words die in his throat when he sees the bard perching beside one of the smaller springs, next to a very nude Geralt of Rivia. Stranger than Geralt’s lack of dress is that he’s more relaxed than Coën has ever seen him, head resting back on the shelf and neck bared as his body floats in the basin. The surface of the water is, thank the gods, obscured by an obscene amount of bubbles and a silky gauze of soap. Jaskier is clothed but his sleeves are rolled up past his elbows, his hands dipping over Geralt’s chest as he scrubs every inch of the witcher’s pectorals.

As it turns out, knocking wasn’t necessary. He could have announced his presence with a parade and he doesn’t think these two would have noticed.

Geralt finally picks up on his scent and lifts his head to stare at Coën, but he just nods at the Griffin. Even his expression is unbelievably relaxed as Jaskier washes his body, eyes soft and jaw loose. The bard follows Geralt’s gaze and sees Coën standing in the entrance, still lamely clutching his towel in both hands. Without an ounce of shame, Jaskier lifts one soapy palm from Geralt’s collarbone and waves. “Evening, Coën!”

Coën wants to berate them for not using one of the private baths, but he can’t get over how remarkably chill Geralt looks. They probably hadn’t expected anyone to interrupt anyway; he releases his anger, waving back awkwardly. “Hello, Jaskier. Geralt.”

The witcher nods, and the bard suddenly seems to realize what a compromising position Coën has caught them in. The firelight dances over them as Jaskier sits up and babbles, “We’re almost done, if you’d like to come join! It’s a bit of a process, but… what can I say, old habits die hard!”

Despite the bard’s open invitation, Geralt’s expression does very much not read ‘the more, the merrier’. Even if it did, Coën doesn’t think these two are his type, and he really, really doesn’t want to intrude. He steps back, footsteps echoing around the spring. His skincare can wait until tomorrow. “No, I was just… making the rounds. See you tomorrow morning on the Killer, Geralt…?”

The White Wolf nods stiffly. Jaskier moves his hands into the witcher’s hair and some of his tension drains away as the bard begins moving his fingers, lathering soap there. “You’ll just get all sweaty and dirty again,” grouses Jaskier. “I’m going to have to drag you back down here every single day, aren’t I, darling?”

Coën flees.

It takes Jaskier longer than many of the others here to worm his way into Ciri’s heart. Vesemir might be strict but she respects him, and every time she manages to make him proud her heart soars. Lambert might be prickly but he cares— violently— for her. Coën and Eskel might have scars left behind by a lifetime of fighting monsters, but their kindness is nearly unconditional and overwhelmingly refreshing. Yennefer is obviously important to Geralt but as the days slide by, she becomes dearly important to Ciri too, and she trains her in a way that even Triss couldn’t.

But Jaskier is somewhat of an enigma. He’s brave and he doesn’t— or can’t— fight. He’s stupid and he’s brilliant, weaving new compositions out of thin air and then giving them all a scare when he munches on some monstrously venomous concoction by accident. Unsure what to make of him, Ciri initially dismisses him. This becomes impossible when it becomes clear that Jaskier is obviously important to Geralt too, in a different but not opposite way from Yennefer. Ciri watches the bard flit around the fortress, slowly regaining his strength and trust and faith after undergoing torture and depression and loss. His songs provide a welcome relief for everyone; the witchers are grieving too, and having an artist in their home is more valuable than anyone could have expected. But there’s a strange undercurrent to many of his compositions that isn’t inspired by the torture or the state of the world or anything like that.

She pieces it together one evening when the bard is performing for her. He’s obviously desperate for her approval, glancing up every few chords to try to decipher her opinion on his work. His calloused fingers move over the cheap lute masterfully and his voice is beautiful, but the words are… something else. Ciri frowns, brows drawing together as she squints at Jaskier.

“That song,” she says when it draws to a close, pulling the pelt around her lap closer. “... Is it about Geralt?”

“What?” splutters the bard. “Who?”

Amused, Ciri repeats, “Geralt. White Wolf, Butcher of Blaviken… I believe you’re familiar.”

“No— I mean, yes, but, no! No, of course not! It’s a tragic ballad that tells the purposefully vague tragedy of a romance unfulfilled. It’s not about anyone!”

“Right,” chirps Ciri. “Then who’s the garroter?”

“It’s a metaphor,” Jaskier sighs. “We really must get you a classical education, Ciri. Running around the courtyard and beating yourself up and making a thousand portals are all well and good, but… I was a professor at Oxenfurt, you know! I could help teach you about literature.”

Ciri’s had about enough classical education back in Cintra to last her several lifetimes. She frowns, accusing, “You and Geralt… the two of you aren’t friends, are you?”

“Ah.” Jaskier puts his instrument aside, rolling one of his shoulders back. The way he avoids her questioning gaze says more than his words, and after a quiet moment he admits, “No. We aren’t.”

Ciri claps, triumphant. “I should’ve guessed, from the way he talks about you!” The biggest indicator, really, is how much of Jaskier’s work is heavy with the weight of heartbreak. The man only sinks lower, chewing his lip, and Ciri reassures him quickly, “Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone here would mind. You’re welcome here, and they wouldn’t try to make someone so important to Geralt leave.”

“I’m not sure where I rank on the list of people important to Geralt,” confesses Jaskier. Ciri tilts her head— as inexperienced as she is with these things, she has to imagine that bedfellow ranks at least above friend. “But that’s nice to hear, Ciri, thank you.”

“Of course.” She offers him a smile, and Jaskier returns it gladly. “Now… can you play that whoreson one again before bed?”

Eskel swings his legs over the bench one morning, dropping into the seat next to Geralt without warning. All the other occupants of the keep are still fast asleep and while Eskel doesn’t begrudge them their rest, he thinks that if he allows himself to fall into easy indolence, his grief will overtake him. The tables in the main hall have been righted and the cracks in the building mostly mended, but their recent losses linger in the cracked tree and in the cold silence that used to house so many beloved voices. It was more than a close call with the leshy, and Eskel doesn’t take his hard-earned life for granted. So he wakes up early and follows the familiar routines of his Kaer Morhen schedule, and he’s unsurprised to see his dearest brother doing the same.

What he is surprised by, however, is the latest gossip from the keep’s infamous chatterbox. Eskel doesn’t waste his breath, launching into speech and reaching over to jab Geralt in the chest. “How come I had to hear the latest development of your life from Coën and Lambert, huh? Are we having a fight I don’t know about? Why don’t you come to me with these things?”

His complaints are all in jest, obviously, but his teasing doesn’t land as Geralt frowns in genuine puzzlement. “Development?”

“Oh, come on,” Eskel scoffs. “We all suspected it anyway from the first winter you came back complaining about that ‘sing-songy twit who wouldn’t leave you alone’. I hadn’t seen you grin like that in years. You should have mentioned that you and Jaskier worked everything out!”

Geralt stares as though Eskel has started speaking in tongues. “There is no ‘me and Jaskier’.”

“It’s fine, alright? You don’t need to pretend. I heard what the two of you have been doing, and saying, and… Geralt, really, it’s alright,” Eskel reassures him. “I’m happy for you. This is a long time coming.”

With a slightly crazed edge in his voice, Geralt demands, “What is a long time coming?!”

Eskel pauses, trying to make sense of the confusion. “... Well… are you and the bard not together?”

On the distant horizon a flurry of birds rises from another peak, likely disturbed by some woodland creature or monster stumbling through their woods. Jaskier watches fondly, quill tip tapping against the edge of his mostly blank page. His legs dangle off the edge of one of Kaer Morhen’s tallest parapets but he doesn’t fear heights, never has. The vista before him is too beautiful to possibly dread. The birds dip and soar in one massive, churning cloud of black specks, and Jaskier tries to come up with an apt description that he could twist into a poem.

One of the greatest tragedies about this place is that to preserve its unbelievable beauty, said beauty must go unsung. As he ages Jaskier is starting to accept that awful paradox, and it makes more sense with every passing year and every new atrocity he witnesses. He can’t be solely faulted for how his work has changed, not when the world is changing so violently and irreparably too.

From behind him, a harsh and close voice demands, “What are you doing,” and Jaskier shrieks and very nearly tumbles off the parapet.

Before he can fall from the towering fortress to his certain death, warm broad arms move around him fast as lightning, tugging him back to safety and holding him tight. Heart pounding, Jaskier clings to his quill and watches his journal of unwritten compositions tumble down the mountainside until finally it falls out of sight.

He gulps, moving to face his saviour— Geralt is still holding him, but he releases Jaskier only enough for the bard to turn in his grip. The witcher is warm and smells of woodsmoke, and his touch lingers on Jaskier like a brand. “Thank you,” breathes Jaskier, brain still panicking about nearly dying. “Seems I owe you yet again.”

“Hmm.” Geralt doesn’t move away. “Just talked to Eskel.” Jaskier wants to ply him for more information but at this point he’s learned that if Geralt wants to say something, he’ll say it in his own time or not at all. After a laboriously long moment of Geralt fidgeting with the fabric at the back of Jaskier’s doublet, he continues, “He said…”

Losing patience, Jaskier shifts in Geralt’s grip, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“Uh,” the witcher grunts, glancing away, “he said he wants us to clean out the stables together. Are you. Free. Would you like to do that. With me.”

Jaskier can think of a thousand better ways to spend an afternoon than shovelling horse shit and rotted hay, but he can’t think of a single other person he’d rather spend an afternoon with. Geralt’s question was so awkward and halting that Jaskier leaps on the opportunity, standing up and pulling Geralt to his feet. “Of course,” he declares, as though he wants nothing more in this world than for a goat to chew on his boots and Roach to glare at him as he upends her home. “It’ll provide a nice change of scenery— my mind was in a rut looking out at these mountains all morning anyway. Bring on the horseshit!"

Geralt hums, amused. He finally drops his grip on Jaskier but doesn’t step away, and more bafflingly, he doesn’t stop smiling.

The next morning Jaskier wakes up in his same dreary quarters. He bats away the last remnants of his now-hazy dream, yawning widely and sitting up in bed. On the small table beside his bed lies a journal, neatly bound in an unfamiliar ribbon with a new bookmark sticking out the side. No, wait, not any old journal. His journal. The one he’d dropped off the mountainside yesterday.

Bewildered, Jaskier reaches for it. The marked page is a very old poem he’d written and never done anything with, and astonishingly he finds that someone annotated it. The rhymes of ‘pallor’ and ‘valour’ have been circled and connected with ink and a note that says ‘terrible’, and next to a line about a dragon’s breath someone has scrawled ‘inaccurate’.

Jaskier flips through the rest of the pages to find similar notes, and he gapes, not knowing whether to feel offended or astonished. He returns to the page with the bookmark, fingertip tracing over the last line, which was circled three times in thick black ink. ‘Whatever pleases you’. An easy joke, an open ending to let his audience decide the fate of the protagonist. Only one person could know the significance of the phrase, really.

A very old unease in Jaskier’s heart finally goes silent, and he smiles, putting the journal down. When he walks to the door of his room, he finds his mysterious editor waiting on the other side, fists clenched and frown uncertain. Jaskier smiles, windswept and speechless, and this time Geralt is the one who growls, “Fuck it,” stepping forward to embrace him.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt #jaskier #mosaicscale #my writing #ask meme

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iconic-ponytail · 3 years

Text

How did @imreallyloveleee, @satelliteinasupernova, and @kesleyjo know to tag me in something right as I was starting to attempt productivity for the day?? idk but thank yall :)

How many works do you have on AO3?

Only 8, I guess? I guess I tend more towards verbosity than prolific-ness.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

349,536 (... see above comment I guess lol)

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Only Riverdale. Well, a little but of Harry Potter when I was like, 12. And I have (1) Nancy Drew CW draft that is sort of aimless and may or may not ever see the light of day.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. revelation in the light of day

2. when you're young you run

3. what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

4. in case I stand one little chance

5. i'll be (your) home for christmas

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes! I am behind on a few fics though, for sure... but I always eventually get to them! I appreciate that people will engage with what I work on and often say both very kind and insightful things.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't think I have a single one. I love writing angst, but I don't love ending on it, I like it to go somewhere distinctly happy. That might have more to do with Betty and Jughead than like, any ship I might ever write for, but I only write them, so...

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I mean I wrote a 23k sappy af ending to revelation and it felt like the most cathartic to write of all my happy endings. I for sure cried multiple times in the process.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

No, and I guess never say never? But I love an AU. I did write a arrested development AU drabble that felt a little unhinged lol.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not a lot, I have gotten a couple comments that hit me kinda weird, but only one I've ever deleted because someone was annoyed at me for something I had tagged and mentioned several times in authors notes, at which point... like just don't. Get a hobby, yo.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes, though "what kind" is... I'm not sure? As loveleee said, usually more of the M territory than E? I guess I would say I don't write a ton of smut for the sake of smut, it usually has a purpose to the characters/story. (But don't get me wrong, smut for the sake of smut is great and I read it readily.)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, but the people of Ao3 are good people and took it down very quickly after I emailed them! I only found it by accident, but this person had plagiarized another bughead fic as well. It felt very violating and upsetting, but also relieving to get justice. Google your own fic every once in a while, I guess?

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

With the one and only @heartunsettledsoul! Listen, that fic is very fun to write, but we are both eternally burying ourselves in projects. But it will continue :)

What’s your all time favorite ship?

The one I've written 350k for, obviously.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Nothing I've posted, I try not to post anything I don't intend and have a plan to finish. I have two unposted WIPs that I very much plan to post and finish but I'm trying to avoid writing another fic that takes me two years and change to finish, so I'm trying to push them both further before posting.

I guess I have two shorter WIP ideas that may or may not ever turn into something but I also never want to say never!

What’s your writing strengths?

While plotting is not *easy* for me, I also love a plot that snaps together like a puzzle, without becoming dominated by the plot alone. Character driven plot, perhaps. Reflecting on comments I receive, I think tone and pacing are another, and all of this is probably why I gravitate towards more long form fic than one shots.

What’s your writing weaknesses?

Repetitive action verbs. Run on sentences. A lot of nitty gritty technical stuff. Sometimes wanting a particular self-indulgent moment or comment and while fic is certainly a place to be as self-indulgent as you want, sometimes it doesn't work. Also, trusting things to be conveyed by showing-not-telling is hard, and sometimes I drift into doing both, which feels like overkill.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't do it much, some Spanish via Veronica, I guess, and then I often use a lot of phrases that I am familiar with/know are used colloquially. (I don't speak Spanish well but I am immersed in a bilingual space daily via my job.)

What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter, on fanfiction.net

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

For the sheer effort/blood/tears, a revelation in the light of day. For something I just still get a *nailed it* feeling about, years later, in case I stand one little chance. And honestly, the one I'm working on now is a Western-ish AU have been dreaming up for over a year, I'm psyched out of my mind about (if I can figure out how to plot the last 30%)!

Tagging @heartunsettledsoul @stonerbughead @jugandbettsdetectiveagency

#this was diverting #tag game

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rpbetter · 3 years

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what's the nicest possible way to tell a close friend their roleplay blogs suck and if they want followers and interaction like they keep complaining about they have to actually put effort into it instead of just making blog after blog and slapping a character on it like that's they need to do. I've tried to suggest this to her before by comparing other blogs that play her muse but she just feels inadequate instead of inspired to emulate them which I understand but it's very frustrating when I suggest a million ways to make her blog better and she brushes them all off for one reason or another and I don't want to say anything because she's like a sister to me. sigh.

Unfortunately, the short answer to this is that there really isn't any way you can make her see this unless she's ready to see it.

But, I don't like giving those sorts of answers, they feel hopeless and shitty, so, let's try this...

Understanding what the problem with your friend and her connecting with this information is, is important. It might help in talking to her about the issue.

What I find in these instances, and a lot of similar ones, is that the mun is unhappy about the results but quite happy with the process. She's enjoying some part of this, it's just not the lack of interaction, obviously. It's the very things she's doing to turn people off of her muses.

I think a lot of people get kind of addicted to new muses. I mean, the entire process of having a new muse:

interest to outright fixation, no matter how short-lived, in a new, inspiring muse

who is almost certainly in a new fandom, and probably, one that is very busy and popular at the moment

"someone stop me" phase, even though they've already decided

picking the perfect URL, creating the new blog, making the graphics and batches of icons

reblogging All The Content about the new muse, at least, the visual content and maybe, a couple of "oof, right in the feels" style short meta posts

plugging the new muse on the old blogs, through friends, etc.

mass follows

new mutuals! Shiny new meme asks in the inbox! New threads!

It's about the newness, the excitement, and the irrationally promising feeling that damn it, this time, the blog and muse is going to be successful, popular even, beloved, the actual favorite iteration of the character in the RPC. Like anything exciting, it's addicting for people. And like anything addicting, it can take hitting rock bottom and going several more feet down, a few times, before they're over it and want to change.

Which is, of course, where you come in with your as-yet failed RP interventions.

What makes what you're trying to do here very difficult is that there isn't a total bottoming out she's going to reach. There will always be something new and exciting coming out with a new and exciting muse that'll fix the problem, in her mind. There will always be the option and availability to create another blog, slap another muse on it, rinse and repeat. With shampoo and conditioner that never runs out.

You definitely had the right idea by trying to get her to contrast between why what she is doing isn't working the way she wants and why what someone else is doing is working out that way. It's just, as you found out, often not the best idea, no matter how well-intentioned it is. With her blogs constantly failing for reasons she refuses to believe, it's incredibly likely she's already done some comparison in all the wrong ways, ultimately going back and forth between blaming the other iterations, finding nothing but errors in the way they write the character and set up their blogs, and feeling depressed that she's not good enough, but they are.

So, you might have unintentionally inflamed all of this! She could be in a place where she's even more likely to believe that what she's doing is great as a defense mechanism for being hard on herself.

I'd also like to say that I'm aware the "right" advice here is, "there's nothing you can do, you'll just make her feel bad, people have a right to RP however they want." But, you're also her friend, and you have to be around the complaining and upset when this just keeps happening.

Furthermore, when we have very close friends like this, we automatically keep trying to fill in the gaps for them at cost to ourselves - every time they make another blog/muse, we get roped into writing things we know are just going to be dropped, making them things we know are going to left on a deserted blog, and so on. Eventually, it makes you feel bad about yourself because your efforts aren't good enough, either. It can really ruin the hobby for you, sucking away enjoyment and creativity you could be spending elsewhere.

I don't think you're wrong in trying to help both her and yourself.

Keep being honest with her. When she complains, be honest about why this is happening. And you can, indeed, be kind and honest!

Let's say that she says something about how she wrote all these opens and no one is going for them.

You could say something like, "that sucks. I liked this one, it's the one that feels and sounds like the character to me. What were you doing when you wrote that? You should rewrite the others to be a little more like that, I think people are looking for more of the character like we saw them in the series."

You're acknowledging that she's right, it does suck, it's a shitty feeling no matter how at fault for it she is. While pointing out something she did good (and, okay, maybe she didn't, maybe they all categorically sucked lol but find one that was even a tiny bit better/that has elements you can use to both boost her confidence and show her what is right, not just wrong). Then, giving her an idea - whatever she was thinking, watching, listening to at that time, she tapped into something more like the actual character, and she could do it again. And telling her what the problem is, at least with this, that people don't want a cardboard cutout muse, they want the one they like from the fandom book/show/movie.

No need to actually compare with another active mun and muse, or tell her that it's because what she's doing is terribly and driving you nuts. Even if both are true.

If she's the one that compares herself to another blog this time, seize the opportunity!

"Well, people like that the muse is developed and like the character they know. When you interact with another canon, don't you want them to be like the character you liked? You liked -current muse- for a reason. When I've felt like that, I reminded myself of why I was drawn to the character and worked harder on writing them accurately and getting their voice down. I think this other blog has done that and you haven't yet."

It's a little harsher, but she may very well only be looking for validation from you that this other blog actually sucks and she's doing great. A lot of complaints on tumblr are that - seeking validation, not help. The entire culture of that shit is not at all helpful. You don't want to try to sort of shock her out of it by being too harsh, but you do want to make it clear that you're not going to just give ass pats and tell her what she wants to hear.

You're telling her why this other blog is more successful, that the muse comes off as the character and is enjoyable to write with. Because the mun put in the effort to make them both accurate to the character and a muse that's fun/interesting/engaging to write with in RP.*

*Not all characters transfer over well to RP, either, and this might also be some of her problem. For whatever reason, some people are deeply drawn to the worst possible choices for them. They will find the least applicable character in a whole series, one with a billion characters that spans decades of material, plenty of viable options all around, but no, it's got to be this one. The one that's impossible for them to pull off, boring or disliked by the fandom, is incredibly difficult to interact with (think manic pixie bullshit, villains that are extreme loners, incredibly quiet and reserved characters, or those who are only ever seen in their canon to be bantering with friends and enemies - people they have established relationships with, unlike someone else's muse, even if that muse is a canonical friend or enemy), or is an active turn off in RP, like an outrageously overpowered character whose entire existence is based on being OP as fuck. That's going to be what they go for. Every. Damn. Time.

If you notice she's doing this, she could be compensating without even realizing it by turning the string of muses into identical and empty clichés she thinks people want to interact with, but that she can still handle writing. And unfortunately, your job is even harder, OP, because everyone has a character type...and your bestie's is Fucking Impossible to RP for 90% of the RPC Population Type lmao I'm...I'm so sorry.

Maybe if this is the case, you can get her to try out a different character that has some of the traits you've noticed she seems to always be drawn to, but without the complications. Work smarter, not harder, though! Propose this as you desperately wanting your muse to interact with x. Some people react very badly to being told "you'd write a great -muse name," others are flattered by it. If you don't know for certain that she'd be flattered, or at least not offended, that she doesn't hate this character or anything, do not say this. Just tell her that you love this character, you think she could handle them as a NPC in a thread, could she please try?

And make that the single most interesting thread in the history of threads. Specifically, for her. Give her tons of engagement with this NPC of the sort she tends to want the most. It might stick and reset some of her perspective on the types of characters she keeps choosing.

You're reminding her that she's a RPer, too, which sounds like a crazy thing to have to remind a RPer, but we do weirdly lose track of this. We get very invested in what we're putting out more than what we've successfully been given, especially when we're not being given much of what we want. So, you're prodding her to recall that there are two parts of this equation, she's been on the side of it - she's wanted to interact specifically with a canon muse because she loved the character/ship with hers/whatever, and has, as we all have, experienced both the disappointment of running through a ton of them who just are not that character and also finding the version that very much is.

This helps to put other people back into perspective in a way that isn't just "interactions." (Read as "desired attention." Which isn't a slam, it's true. It's also not a problem, we all are here to interact, we all enjoy having devoted mutuals and such. It's only a problem when we stop seeing them as anything other than a means to an end for ourselves.) She might be able to relate to them, thus, why they don't like her muses, if she can put herself back into their shoes.

You stick with that and transition it into why she picked the current muse. It's the same deal, there was something about the muse that sparked interest, creativity, etc. What was it? Something that isn't there, or there enough, in her writing. In all the excitement of muse-creation, she's probably let whatever it was slide right out the door. If you can get her to recall that feeling of interest and identify for herself what all triggered it, she might be able to stick with it.

And you've encouraged her again to give people what they want if she wants interactions by developing her muses. You've also done so, if it all applicable and true, by using yourself here, making it feel like not just a common problem, but one experienced and overcome by someone she cares about and trusts.

She might have an issue with needing a lot of high-interest, high-reward scenarios, too.

This is a high-effort, minimum reward situation for her. A lot of us in the RPC have shit like ADHD that can really make this difficult once we're experiencing it in this way, but even those who don't absolutely fall into it as well. So, you'll need ways to make it fun, but...I think if you can sort of kindly trick her into experiencing the effort as its own reward, it'd go a long, long way.

I can't really say what I do, having this problem with high-effort, minimal reward because I don't tend to experience that in RP. The writing is the reward for me, as much as I lose it utterly with happiness every time a writing partner is loving what I've given them. My reward system is set up around the writing and exploring characters. Hers seems to be set up around the reaction to it and amount of engagement with it. You need to try to use the latter to give her some of the former.

If she likes Halloween or Christmas, Fall or Winter, this could be your way into doing it!

Get her hyped about a seasonal prompt list you're doing. This does, yeah, mean you will have to do it, too lol but in the end, any time you aren't able to produce something daily like these lists usually are set up for, you're showing her that it isn't a job she's got to fulfill - the rules are only as strict as she wants to make them for herself. And if you keep yours short and fun, she'll feel like it's perfectly fine and good to do it this way as well. That it doesn't need to be a damn masterpiece or anything, just fun, something different to show off her muse.

While what she's actually doing, in addition to that, is getting in touch with and developing her muse. Importantly, when we write in a way that is just for ourselves like this, we tend to kind of...bond, for lack of a less weird sounding way of putting it, with a muse. It makes them stick with us longer, raising their importance and easier availability to us.

Let her know you're doing this, pick one out you genuinely like, and don't expect her to be down with it immediately. It's work with no foreseeable reward. Except, it's very hard to listen to our friends be excited, proud of themselves, enjoying themselves without wanting to join in. It'll be especially helpful, though, if you think people you interact with will like the posts and comment on them, or even try to turn them into threads if you include their muses (with their consent, of course, and no pressure). If she sees that, it might make it even more interesting to her. You might also have to pose this as her helping you out, that you don't think you'll get more than two done if she isn't doing it as well, as a sort of a challenge she can hold you to.

Whatever you think might work best for engaging her, you know her well, you can do it!

Be there to help her out with ideas if she goes for it. Throw out some easy, fun suggestions you think she might like, that even give her some opportunity to write something with her muse that she doesn't get a chance to. Pull from the muse's canon, is there something in their canon that goes with the prompt word "snow," for instance? Is it something she enjoyed about the canon story? Suggest it. Thinking about both the muse and your friend, is there something else that came to mind about that prompt you could suggest? Do it!

Again, whatever she's most into, it's an angle. Humor? Her serious muse is forced into a ridiculous, funny situation that involves the snow. Angst? A sad memory associated with the snow. Shipping? A romantic, fluffy scene (or steamy one). And so on.

Be there to express interest and encouragement while she's doing it. Don't do things that are going to come off as pressuring or helicopter moming her, of course! Like, asking how much she's gotten done, did she start working on it yet? That's a bad idea, unless she enjoys that sort of thing. Instead, tell her how much you can't wait to see this, ask about how it's going, tell her about yours to encourage her to talk about it.

And be there to be her audience when she posts it. This really seems to be her highest reward, so give it to her. Like the post, comment on the post, tell her in messages. Not individually, all of those things. If you can find a way to that doesn't mess up what you've got going on with your blog, mutuals, other friends, etc., mention it on your blog.

At this point, people might be both aware of her RP habits and wary of engaging with her, but someone might bite if you're enthused and go like the post. If it's applicable, make some jokes about it on the dash, turn it into a moment of inside joke-like crack for people to see. Mention that she wrote this and you loved it, link it or outright reblog her post. Hell, mention that you and her are doing such and such prompts for whatever holiday or season before the fact, that way, it doesn't come out of nowhere to your mutuals, either. Again, if applicable, you can ask to turn it into a thread.

The point, at this juncture, isn't to attract people to her blog and posts, it's to demonstrate to her that this is fun and rewarding. If you can get people to go like the posts, great, but you can only count on yourself to do it at first.

Most people enjoy those sorts of prompts on their dash from mutuals, though. You're always going to have some who feel like it's annoying because it wasn't strictly a RP reply, but whatever, they're not the majority in most fandoms anymore, thankfully. Point is, it's literally showing her mutuals that she's capable of thinking as her muse and working on her muse. It's showing off good things and making her muse more interesting and uniquely hers in a good way. And it's totally possible that she's going to organically generate likes, people wanting to use this as a plot with her for RP, and mutuals who are increasingly following along with every post made.

The hope is that she experiences the beginnings of more interest in the muse than she does making muses, gain some confidence in doing this with the enjoyment of it, and stick with a muse longer than five seconds so that she can actually end up with the interactions she wants.

There are definitely other ways of doing this, the prompt thing just came to mind because it's major prompt season. You've got a prompt list floating around for literally every popular point of interest right now, from whump to extreme fluff to horror to humor. And it's going to keep going until January. It's also something that can be as short as a paragraph or as long as several thousand words, and that a hell of a lot of people don't do all of. So, it's easy, so long as she's got a reason to find it interesting and stay on course with it even a little bit.

You could also try getting her into doing something like moodboards for her muse but with little additions of writing that go along with them. Nothing major, just things like a quote from her muse or a sentence from a starter, thread, whatever.

So long as you can get her to start refocusing on RP being enjoyable from the inside and not just the outside, it's valid as hell to try it! She seems to be experiencing RP as instant gratification and basing that gratification on things she can't control, like popularity.

Right now, even giving her the sober truth that one can write the best version of a canon muse there is to be found, be someone enjoyable and interesting in OOC interactions, and be an amazing writer without that being enough to garner popularity, or even the plots that are wanted. That being a very popular RPer and having more interactions than you know what to do with (honestly sucks ass) isn't a set of absolute values, but rather, variables that are always in flux and often, totally mysterious. It's usually a mixture of total luck, visual appeal, and both mun being on point with what people want to see right this second and muse being the mixture of fanon that is desirable, also, right at this exact second. It is seriously not within anyone's control, no matter how much effort, quality, or even outright bullshit they have to put out there.

If she's ever going to stick to a muse and not find herself envious, upset, and bored it's absolutely got to come from herself. She's got to be popular with herself, enjoying herself regardless of what others are seemingly achieving or want to give her. It's not going to be recognized no matter how harsh or sweet you are about the problem, unless she's capable of really looking at those problems as problems, and I don't think she's going to get to that point through negatively bottoming out. She might get there through the opposite, though!

It's...just going to take a lot of effort and patience from you, with no expectation of reward yourself.

Because it's still likely as hell it's just not going to happen. And while it seems like you are the kind of friend who would find the effort worth it because you care and are invested in her, please know that there's no shame in merely contemplating this and noping right out.

You've got a life and are trying to enjoy the hobby as well! And if it seems like something that could sour your friendship? It's not worth it. You're better off just accepting that she'll inevitably tire of doing this and move on to another hobby, maybe decide to do fandom blogs or something instead that you can support her in.

It's definitely an unenviable and frustrating position you're in. All you can really do is try not to let this negatively impact the friendship, to keep refraining from just outright telling her things she'd find hurtful, and try your best to show her that it's rewarding to develop the muse and stick with it, not a task. That there are improvements she can make to her blog, and that it isn't a negative reflection on her that they can be made. You can try all the compassionate trickery in the world to lead her there, but it's ultimately up to her whether she brushes this off as well, don't let it hurt your feelings or exasperate you too much!

Also, it's totally possible that even if you met through RP and/or it has been a big part of the friendship, you might have grown in different directions in the hobby.

Growing within the hobby is inherent to any hobby you stick to for long enough, especially if you started out in it young. Some people seamlessly just keep growing to things that make them happy, others experience a lot of growing pains along the way as they're maybe ready for change, but only in select areas they have to discover for themselves. Still others grow in a way that doesn't make them very happy, but they're both not ready (or willing) to approach why and what they can do, and also still too attached to the good times they had to reassess whether it's still something they want to do, or if it's something better moved away from into something else.

That's always very difficult as a friend. Difficult in watching your friends not go the same directions as you anymore, even in something as comparatively silly as a hobby, in seeing them not enjoying themselves, and in the possibility that it could signal the end of enjoying the hobby with them. It's sad and frustrating, and can feel lonely, but if you're close enough friends, you've got so many other things to still be good friends over, so keep that in mind!

She might need to keep doing this with her blog and muse situation until she comes not to the realization that she needs to change how she's RPing to get what she wants, but rather, that she wants to stop RPing. That could be the burnout that happens here eventually, but again, not only can you still be great friends, if it makes her happier, it's good.

#answered #anonymous #rp problems #rp advice

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adhd-hyperfixations-n-stuff · 4 years

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Hey do you have any advice on how to support people with Avoidant Personality Disorder?

First, I’m sorry for taking a while to respond to this — I’ve been pretty busy with school and generally worn out, and wanted to wait until I could put some thought into the answer (putting it under a cut bc it got kinda long haha).

Obviously I can’t speak for everyone with AvPD (and I have a lot of overlapping disorders) so take everything with a grain of salt, but I have had it for years and it’s had a major impact on my life, so here’s what I’ve got:

Don’t try to force us out of our comfort zones. My parents did this for years, and it was awful. AvPD is not just shyness — oftentimes, we don’t even have a social “comfort zone” to begin with, and it puts us under basically constant stress. If someone with AvPD is trying to push themself outside of that anyway, absolutely support them, but never try to force it. Even if you mean well, some people’s disorder is so bad that they won’t be able to handle seemingly “little” interactions without extremely severe anxiety. (For example, I couldn’t speak in class at all, order food or buy things in a store for myself, or even leave my house without insanely terrible anxiety for years).

Avoid putting us on the spot. Forcing us to be the center of attention, even briefly or in a “low-stakes” setting can be incredibly stressful. Of course sometimes it’s necessary, but even just doing introductions in a small group or something can be really hard for us. (I once had a panic attack because my therapist was bringing in someone else who worked there to have a practice conversation with me, and that’s about as low-stakes as it gets.)

Don’t assume we’re boring. It’s common for us to be ashamed of literally every interest or personality trait we have, and try to turn ourselves into the most bland, generic copy of a person to cover that up. Until recent years, I wouldn’t even talk to my closest friends about interests we didn’t share. (This applies more to stuff like music, TV shows, movies, etc. than just general hobbies.) If someone with AvPD does share their interests with you, try not to make fun of them or anything — even if it’s not mean-spirited, it can make us regret opening up.

Don’t make jokes at our expense (unless you know the person well enough to be sure they’re okay with it). This obviously applies in general, but it’s harder to be sure with AvPD. When you constantly second-guess everything you do and are convinced you’re screwing everything up, even super lighthearted teasing or laughing at something silly you did can translate in our brains to “oh god I messed up again and they all think I’m an idiot.”

Be the one to initiate plans if you have to (and try not to take that personally). If you want to spend time with us, ask, because we pretty much can’t. I went years never asking a friend to hang out, and always waiting for someone else to initiate. It never meant I didn’t want to spend time with them, I was just worried about making them feel obligated, and didn’t feel like I was worthy of attention.

Spend time with us one-on-one sometimes. If you’re close to someone with AvPD, they may still be anxious around you, but will probably be a lot more comfortable with just you than with you and a bunch of other people. Especially since we don’t tend to have a lot of friends ourselves for obvious reasons, always being with a friend/partner and all their other friends can make us feel like we’re just there out of pity or something and don’t fit in with the group. You are definitely not obligated to give the person your attention all the time or put them above all your other friends, but spending some time with just them (and maybe one or two other people they trust) can help. If we’re clingy to one or two people, it’s often because we have no one else and it gets super lonely living like that.

Don’t assume we want to be alone. On a day-to-day basis I did, in the sense that I felt safer alone due to less anxiety, but I never wanted to be alone. Before I was even a teenager, I was terrified that I was going to die alone because I had no genuine friends and would probably never form any close relationships. I would get so jealous of people with real friends that it hurt, and I always wanted a best friend. I buried myself in reading and writing for years to fill that void (and developed maladaptive daydreaming disorder because I was so isolated irl).

Remind them you actually like them. For pretty much my whole life, I’ve felt like my friends put up with me out of pity or convenience or something, because I truly don’t understand how anyone could actually like me as a person. Of course, you don’t have to say it outright unless they literally ask (which they may be too anxious to do), but make sure they know that you actually enjoy being around them and aren’t doing it for some other reason.

Take it seriously as a disorder and provide accommodations. This one only really applies to people who have some administrative power over a person with AvPD, such as at school. In my opinion, we absolutely should be able to get exemptions/alternate assignments for things that give us heart palpitations and almost make us pass out — but I still had to do presentations before medication, and would stress about them for days in advance and then have severe panic attacks in front of everyone every time. School in general was awful and some of that was unavoidable, but it was easier with the rare teachers who would let me get out of those things.

Idk, some of these may be obvious but I’m just going off my own experience. If anyone has more questions feel free to ask them!

Also, this is more of a suggestion for people with AvPD, but I would really recommend getting on medication for it if you can find one that helps you. Therapy did absolutely nothing for my AvPD, except for eventually directing me to a psychiatrist because I was basically a hopeless case without meds.

I’m still avoidant and self-conscious and feel inferior to everyone else, but I no longer have the severe anxiety symptoms — I can now handle basic interactions (and even way more stressful ones like presentations) without constant stress and panic attacks, and I had some longterm chronic physical symptoms (digestive issues, jaw pain) clear up too. Within a week, it genuinely felt like the anxiety goggles had been pulled off and I was able to see the world more normally for the first time.

#answered ask #avpd #avoidant personality disorder #actually avpd #actually avoidant #personality disorders #social anxiety #social anxiety disorder #(avpd and sad have big overlap so tagging both)#and ive had both #though now I think it's only avpd since I started meds

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lacheri · 3 years

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congrats on 200 !! I was hoping you could write something small for me haha so here’s my info:

My personality type is intj or istj I’ve gotten both before and my enneagram is 6w5. I’m an Aries sun Sagittarius moon and Libra rising. My chosen s/o is Jean Kirstein. My perfered pronouns are she/her. I’m introverted around most people but pretty outgoing with people I’m close with. I love giving gifts to the people I love because I love seeing their reactions. Also although I’m super polite to people I don’t know I kinda love to tease the people I’m close to not anything mean just making jokes. As for my hobbies I like reading I’m just a super slow reader and I’m also into video editing. Some stuff that makes me happy are spicy food, the smell of clean laundry, and my melatonin sleepy gummies 😌. My physical description: I’m 18 yrs old I have brown curly hair and brown eyes. I’m pretty tan. I’m also kinda chubby and 5’5 in height. NSFW info: I personally don’t like degrading or any kind of whips/bondage stuff. I do like to use toys on other people though such as viberators or dildos. I hope I understood your rules correctly when you said check requests but I wouldn’t mind you writing headcannons or a small Drabble depending on the tarot card you pick out. :)

I...literally want to be your friend?? I love the combo of aries sun/sag moon/libra rising, you're the best person to have a giggle with <3 (me and my aries bestfriend used to get drunk and dance to this song in high school so it's an aries anthem for me)

The Fool: this card and the zodiac sign Aries are very much so equals in my mind (the card for Aries is the Emperor). the Fool is card zero, representing infinity and the promise of a new journey. Aries is the first sign of the zodiac, and both these compare in child like wonder and spirit. the man in the card stands on the edge of the cliff with his belongings, head towards the sky, unknowing that he is about to walk off the ledge. the rose he holds represents purity and innocence, the dog his companion, the sun shining down on a cloudless day. I personally love when this card comes out in a reading, it reminds us that it’s okay to indulge in the childish parts of ourselves. not everything is meant to be taken so seriously. it’s okay to have fun without thinking of the future.

anna sun - walk the moon. "Live my life without coming up for air, now it's all I want. I want everyone racing down the hill, I am faster than you. Wait for summertime."

“Jean, you’ve been DJ this entire ride!”

“I have great taste in music, thank you very much!”

You pouted in the passenger seat, arms crossing over your chest, the soft hum of music playing from the radio as you spoke, “Where are we even going anyways?”

“An adventure, obviously,” his honey brown eyes flickered to you, a coy smile on his lips. “Wouldn’t be much fun if I told you.”

“Some best friend you are,” you grumbled, slouching back into the leather of your seat.

The sun had long rid itself of its presence, the moon replacing its position high in the sky. It was a particularly bright night as Jean drove his car down an empty highway, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on the top of your thigh. You had been in the middle of reading your favorite novel, sweatpants on with your hair tied up, when you had heard soft thumps against your window. You had sighed, dog earring your page, and trotted over to your window sill, throwing it open.

Jean had a handful of rocks and a silly toothy grin on his face, calling out that he was going to kidnap you whether you liked it or not. You had simply rolled your eyes, trying hard to conceal your smile and ignore the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and soon enough you were in the passenger seat of his car.

Glancing at the dashboard, the clock read one o’clock in the morning. You would’ve been wide awake reading regardless, but still, you had to admit it was quite late. Jean seemed completely content as he hummed along to whatever song was playing, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as he stared straight ahead. He threw on his blinker, taking an exit you didn’t care to read the sign to. Trees surrounded you on either side, blocking out any moonlight, and the lack of streetlamps was slightly concerning.

Jean had swerved onto a dirt road then, and you couldn’t help but tease, “Are you taking me out in the woods to kill me or something?”

“Yup, this all my master plan,” he smirked back, slowing down over holes in the road and navigating around fallen tree branches. “I’ve had enough of your smart mouth, time for revenge.”

“Yeah right,” you scoffed, placing your hand over his subtly. “You wouldn’t be able to survive without me.”

“Probably not,” Jean mumbled, his eyes widening. “Oh! We’re almost there!”

Headlights illuminated the sparkle of a shoreline, your eyebrows furrowed upon your arrival. There were no beaches around you, were there? Your eyes scanned as much as you could, and it dawned on you that Jean had taken you to, a lake?

“I found it randomly one day with Connie, it’s not on any of the maps or gps,” Jean began to unbuckle his seatbelt, gesturing for you to follow along with his hands. “C’mon, we’re going swimming!”

“Swimming?” you deadpanned, hands frozen on your unbuckled seat belt. “Jean, absolutely fucking not. It’s freezing!”

He rolled his eyes, “Fine, we’re not going swimming. It was worth a try though. But my real reason is less cool, I just wanted to hang out.”

“Just us?” you couldn’t help but ask nervously, hand on the door handle.

“Yeah,” Jean smiled boyishly, fumbling with the radio, sliding out of the driver’s side shortly after. “Just the two of us, baby.”

You let out a nervous giggle, feeling the onset of your heart pounding in your chest. With a quick gesture, you were out of the car, Jean circling around the front to meet you. His phone was in his hand, thumbs tapping quickly away. Suddenly, the mellow sound of smooth music began to play from the speakers, flowing from the opened windows.

Jean put his phone in his back pocket of his jeans, meeting your gaze with a soft smile with an extended palm, “Wanna’ dance?”

You blinked a few times, feeling heat crawl up your cheeks, “Really?”

He strided closer, grabbing your hand at your side, “Yes, really. Now c’mere already.”

You felt Jean as he twirled you suddenly, pulling your back to his chest, laughing as he did so. You couldn’t hold back your own giggles, squealing as he began to move his feet clumsily to the beat of the song, one becoming familiar as the lyrics and music kicked in. You followed his movements, not exactly as dancerly as you had hoped, but it didn’t matter much to you. There was no one around, and the way Jean was “dancing”, you knew he didn’t care much about how well you moved.

You began jumping on your feet, Jean joining you enthusiastically, screaming the words out at the top of his lungs. You laughed hard at the sight, and he threw his arms around your waist.

“You’re like, my favorite person ever, you know that?” Jean looked away shyly at the admittance, smiling so softly it warmed your heart. “You’re the only person I’d ever want to do this stuff with.”

“Awe, Jean, you going soft on me?” you teased lightly, sliding your arms around his neck as the two of you began to sway.

“Just for you,” he breathed, finally moving his honey colored eyes to yours. “Hey, um, have you ever thought about us?”

“What do you mean?” your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, trying not to get your hopes up. You had the biggest crush on the man for years, and his words were going to effect every single thing from this moment on.

Jean took a deep breath, nearly stumbling over his words as he spoke, “I’ve liked you, for a really long time. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you if you don’t feel the same, but, I kind of want to be your boyfriend.”

Your mouth hung open, eyes blinking furiously, “Are you serious?”

“You know what, I’m sorry, that was stupid,” he shook his head as if to erase his words, shutting his eyes and pulling away, your arms falling from his neck.

“Hey wait,” your hand shot to his bicep to stop him from moving any further. “Jean, I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. I just never thought you liked me back.”

“Of course I did! I mean, you’re like the coolest girl I’ve ever met. We like all the same music, you put up with my stupidity,” Jean chuckled, gazing at you so sweetly. “You go out on these late night adventures with me. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning, the last person I talk to before I fall asleep. You’re beautiful, and that helps too.”

“I would be an absolute idiot to not want to be your girlfriend,” you looked down at your shoes shyly, smiling as the pent up words left your lips. “Who else is gonna’ throw rocks at my window like we’re in the 90’s?”

“I’m just missing the boombox, aren’t I?” he joked, fingers brushing past your temples to caress your hair. “You’re just so you, and you’re not afraid of that. You get me, and I get you. It’s always been us.”

“It has,” you flickered your eyes up at the contact, placing your own hands overtop of his.

Jean had no further words, staring intently at your lips. You placed your weight on the tips of your toes, pushing yourself to close the distance between the two of you. His lips were soft as you kissed him gently, he tasted like spearmint and smelled of expensive cologne, and your eyes fluttered shut. His mouth moved seamlessly against yours, smooth and purposeful, and you could feel all the emotions he held within himself pouring into you. Maybe it was your own, but your brain was silent as the music came to an end, softening in the background.

“You owe me a real date,” you whispered against his lips. “Not one at one in the morning.”

“Can’t promise you that,” he chuckled, peppering a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But seriously, do you want to go swimming now?”

#lacheri's 200 follower event #i made this sfw but i hope you like it!!

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thepilotanon · 4 years

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a happily married man.

I wanted to expand a little bit more of Flip being married, and how he would behave as a husband around his wife. Since, in this short, Ron would have already known of Flip’s wife, I thought it would be fun for him to try and get some stories (advice, hint-hint) from our favorite Detective and have a trip down memory lane! I also tried to look up and imagine what a high schooler/young adult Flip Zimmerman would be like, looking up 50s/60s fashion and...I went to town. Please let me know if you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

warning: old school standards, religious discrimination, my choppy-ass attempt to write german.

Flip caught the phone ringing while buttoning his flannel, picking up the line and cradling it between his cheek and shoulder while fixing his sleeves properly. It was only ten to six in the morning, and he was on his way out the door to head down to the precinct for another regular day at the office - although, he wasn’t expecting any calls to come right before he would head off to work.

“Zimmerman house,” he spoke, still a bit tired, checking his pockets for his keys. “This is Flip speaking.”

“Philip, what have I said about speaking so grouchy on the phone? You’re going to scare anyone away who tries to call you!” This voice, for Flip, was all too familiar. Scrunching his face in displeasure, he silently panicked before standing straight with a quiet sigh. “Is that any way to speak to your mother when she calls her only child?”

“No, Ma, it’s not,” Flip answered accordingly, running his hand down his mouth. “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to head out the door for work. Why are you callin’ so early in the morning? Figured you would call sometime this weekend, or after dinner.”

“What’s wrong with me calling? I’m trying to get ahold of Alice,” his mother explained plain as day, and Flip raised a curious brow at this new discovery.

“Why do you want to talk to Alice?” Flip narrowed his eyes, turning to see his lovely wife scuffle out to the kitchen. Seeing her yawning and wrap her robe tighter around herself, Alice blinked sleepily as she came closer to her husband, into his waiting arm. Once she rest her head on his shoulder, Flip held her close and gave her a quick good-morning kiss to the top of her head, making her hum softly.

Flip’s mother huffed, and he could resist the quick, naughty grin to flash on his face when Alice looked up to him with a curious stare. “What does it matter to you, junior? I can’t talk to my daughter in-law every once in a while for simple lady-talk? It’s been a while since that sweetheart and I had time to ourselves. I have so much to talk to her, about that recipe she told me about, and that dress we picked out together the last time we went out to town - you know the one, it’s green with -!”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna hand you to her, alright?” Flip quickly stopped his mother when he stole a look to the clock hanging over the oven. Pulling the phone away from his ear, Flip was quick to wrap his arm around Alice’s waist and practically lifted her up a bit to seal her lips in a deep kiss, making her squeak cutely as he gently demanded her attention.

Alice managed herself to smile into the kiss and held his face with both of her soft hands, kissing him back as he gently settled her back to her feet. Fixing his collar properly, along with the gold chain of his most treasured accessory (not counting his wedding band) of the Star of David, Flip then gave her lips another kiss, then her cheek, and then her forehead before handing her the phone.

“She’s your problem now, baby doll,” Flip teased with a wink as she rolled her eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Alice laughed softly, and he kissed her head just once more time. She made a face at him, making him pinch her nose before taking off to the door. Waving to him with her fingers, Alice brought the phone to her ear and kept her smile on her face as she spoke with more energy to the older woman waiting on the other line. “Good morning, Mom, it’s Alice. How are you doing this morning? I - yes, I miss you, too.”

Hearing his mother exclaim happily on the other line, Flip knew he was safe to leave his home and make it to work on time, all thanks to his lovely wife’s assistance. He will have to thank her in his special way when he gets home tonight. As much as he loved his mom with all of his heart, he couldn’t risk getting into trouble for being a few minutes late with Chief Bridges again. It happens every time either his mom or dad call or see him and Alice in person; always wanting to spare a few more minutes to be with their beloved son and daughter in-law. As much as Flip has tried for so long to get his father to retire and find more time to tend to some hobbies with his mom, Flip knew he inherited his stubbornness from somewhere.

Not to mention both of his parents just really, really love and adore his little wife and like to hog all her attention from him.

To him, Flip always enjoyed seeing Alice interact with his parents, ever since they were dating in high school. Seeing his dad laugh over a story of Flip falling asleep during history, or even during study hall with Alice trying to tutor him with the response ‘that’s my boy’ echoing throughout the house. Or, how his mother would scold Flip while giving Alice all her attention when she asked for an honest “report” of how his test scores have been, and then praising the young woman for doing extra credit, despite already being the best in class. His parents made Alice feel at home, and it felt important to him to have someone so special in his life (and someone he wanted to marry someday, at the time) to feel accepted by his family...

Rather, in comparison to how Alice’s parents reacted to meeting Flip.

It was when they both graduated high school together, a month after the ceremony, in fact, and it was surprisingly hot that sunny Saturday in the venue center. It was in a different side of town Flip wasn’t completely well-known with, with too many people in fancy outfits and shiny cars. The venue was huge: a properly kept and cleaned venue with patios and gazebos with white-clothed tables and pretty glasses; waiters and staff working around before the final moments before they open up the lines to their financially successful visitors. The sky is blue and really, really hot -!

“Flip?”

Spinning around from behind the neatly-trimmed hedge he was (not hiding) by, he took a deep breath when he saw his sweet, sweet Alice in her pretty baby-blue sundress with her hair done in soft curls with her ribbon tied perfectly. His beautiful baby doll was never too fond of using hairsprays and using a teasing comb to create unwanted knots, unlike the big fashion fads and popular girls back at school try to replicate. Seeing her just as she is, looking up to him with her bright eyes made his heart do funny things in his chest.

God, he was so in love with her.

“Are you alright, hot shot? Everyone is going in and getting ready to be seated,” she informed him, obviously leaving out another addition of the obvious for his own sake.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Flip shrugged, clapping his hand and rubbing his palms together for no reason.

She didn’t believe him, her smile perking more on her lips. “Do you need a smoke? I’m sure I can ask for a lighter -?”

“No!” he yelped, suddenly feeling his ears burn. Approaching her and taking her hands with both of his, kissing her knuckles quickly, he tried to play it off with a shrug. “No, m’not gonna go in with a cigarette dangling from my mouth, no! Why would I need to smoke, anyway?”

“Because you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.” Flip broke eye contact with her, knowing he was caught red handed. “I’m not going smoke before going in, okay? I don’t want you feelin’ dizzy when I hold your hand.”

A soft chuckle slipped from her as she pulled her hands out of his sweaty palms, only to hook her fingers through his belt loops and get on her toes to press a kiss to his freshly shaved jaw. “I know smoking helps you calm down, Flip, and I doubt we’re going to be cuddling during a brunch for me to inhale smoke. Don’t try to act like you’re not nervous about meeting my parents,” she told him sweetly, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “If you want to be a detective, you need to work a little bit more on your acting skills. You’re going to be under a lot of pressure, you know.”

Sighing, Flip dropped his shoulders and rest his hands on her back, hugging her close to him. “Yeah, under lots of pressure…”

“I know, I know.” Patting his chest, Alice propped her chin to look at him with a sort of sad gaze. “Dating for most of high school, and now you’re finally meeting my mom and dad - it’s ridiculous how long we’ve put this off.”

“Well, more like they’ve put this off from us for a long time,” he gruffed under his breath, which caused her to sigh, slow and long. “Hey, I’m sorry, but you and I know it’s been us who put more effort into trying to make it happen for the past few years, baby doll.”

“I’m not arguing, I completely agree. My dad has never really been social for anyone outside of his family or close friends.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

Humming her laugh, Alice got on her toes while tugging on the collar of his shirt for his attention. Flip willingly brought his head back and kissed her lightly, making her not to ruin her soft colored lips. “They will love you, Flip. You’re charming and wonderful, not to mention smart and the man of my dreams,” she listed off with a sweet smile, looking at him with pure joy. Being complimented by someone who had him wrapped around her little finger, he couldn’t hold back his own bashful smile back to her, his cheeks burning. “They will have to love you, anyway. If your folks can love me and want to see us happy, mine should be able to see all the things that’s wonderful about you, too.”

Pressing a soft kiss to her hair, he took a deep breath before nodding. “You know what’s amazing about you? You make everything so much less scary. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You would be hiding by a bush, pacing back and forth until someone starts to think you’re doing something suspicious,” she told him, making him snort again and earn another kiss to her head. “Come on, you know I don’t like having you with an empty stomach. They make really good French toast and ham that I think you’ll like.”

“Doubt anything can ever beat you or my ma’s cooking, but I’ll believe you.”

Flip knew from the first day that his girlfriend, Alice von Schonburg, came from a very upper-class family. Her father owned a private candy company that distributes between the US and Canada, as well as working to have business across the sea. He also co-owned some grocery stores around Colorado, thus making a very profitable income and a well-known aristocratic member to Colorado Spring’s high society. While Flip knew of his girlfriend’s rather expensive lifestyle and upbringing, she was much more soft and kind to anyone she meets and caught hearts of everyone around her.

Her father was not the same.

He was definitely a hard man; steely, bright eyes in the same color as his daughter, but held no friendly sparkle. His stares were more cold and unsettling, even when he was having “friendly” conversation with another group of people. He was taller than his wife, dressed in a finely pressed suit and a tie that matched his daughter’s ribbon and his wife’s sundress (as did other parents with their young adult children), and had a cane to support the left side of his weight. He had graying hairs and a thick mustache that could easily hide any sort of scowl or smile...if he ever did. Even seeing him across the back patio of the venue made Flip feel like he was choking on the collar of the button up dress shirt he borrowed from his father.

Even so, Alice held on to his sweaty hand and guided him through the small crowd of people - most of who also swam in their riches, paying the two no mind.

“Father! Mother!” Alice called out, catching both their attention, as well as the two other adults they were conversing with. Bringing her boyfriend over, Alice gave them all a bright, sunny smile underneath the canopy next to the tables filled with assorted glass drinks. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry to interrupt.”

“Alice, looking lovely as ever!” The other man with blond hair and thick glasses offered them both a smile, raising his drinking glass in a greeting to her. “Good to see you, sweetie. I should leave you to your table, hm? Gotta get myself a good spot with Nancy. Good to see you, Al. Elsa, good luck on your next project with Susie.”

“Do not mention any’ting about Nancy’s gloves, Bruce,” the other man, around the same age as Alice’s parents, with a slight accent. “She does not want to think about how her nails habe been ruined from habing to do housevork.”

The man, Bruce, gave off a cheeky smile before taking off. Alice clears her throat once more as she smiled to the remaining three.

“Mother, Father, I want to introduce you to Philip Zimmerman, my boyfriend,” she introduced proudly, making Flip’s heart sputter from her voice. She looked and sound so happy to finally introduce him to her family. “And, Flip, my mother, Elsa, and my father, Alphonse,” she told him with gentle eyes to him, her hands holding his arm with comfort. “And, this is also Otto - he’s like my uncle. He and Father have known each other since they were very young.”

“It’s absolutely vonderful to finally meet Alice’s dear Süsser,” Otto said with a big grin, reaching a hand out for Flip to shake. The young graduate jumped and was quick to take Otto’s hand, shaking strongly, just like he practiced with his dad for hours last night. It seemed to work, since Otto chuckled when they broke the greeting. “Knew Mäuschen liked de tall ones, too. Very tall.”

“Onkel Otto,” Alice scolded under her breath, her cheeks immediately going bright when the man chuckled again.

Seeing how her parents didn’t verbally respond, Flip swallowed as he nervously smiled and dipped his head in greeting. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said quickly, seeing how her mother, Elsa, gave him a painted smile. When she held out her gloved hand, Flip was extra careful to cradle her fingers within his palm and bow. “Alice always tells me amazing stories about you two, and all you do in Colorado Springs. She was telling me about this charity event you’re planning in the fall.”

“Yes, I’m working with my ladies group to help raise money for a Christmas event for the children’s hospital. We want to make a big dinner and give grand presents, so the parents don’t need to worry as much,” Elsa answered brightly, seeming to like how Flip took note of her hobbies. Flip noticed that she didn’t have such a strong accent like Otto, but there was a little bit of a German touch when it came to her “v”s sounding like “f”s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Philip.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he blurted, unexpectedly. Attempting to fix his little mistake, Flip straightened his spine and held his hand out to Alice’s father, offering him a smile. “And it’s great to finally meet you, sir - Mr. Alphonse, or, uhm…”

Flip watched, in what felt like slow-motion, as Alphonse von Schonburg looked at his offered hand with a sort of disturbed twitch in his bright eye. Then, just like seeing a fly in his line of sight, the older man shifted his weight with his cane and looked elsewhere, seeming to look at his daughter. “Prefer Herr von Schonburg.”

Dropping his hand back down, wiping his sweaty palm on his dress pants, Flip did his best to keep his cool as Alice have his other arm a reassuring squeeze. Stealing a glance, Flip could see how she was trying to tell him with her eyes that this was normal of her dad’s behavior. Elsa didn’t seem to do anything about her husband’s remark, but Otto didn’t hesitate to sent his old friend a short glare before looking to the two young adults with a big smile.

“Shall ve take a seat, und get our trinkts, ja?” Otto suggested, reaching to pat Flip on the back with an encouraging laugh. “Philip, you und Alice both still too young for mimosa or vine, but ve make it dry! Alice, dis boy likes ham?”

“Flip likes ham.” Alice brought back her sparkling smile towards her uncle, letting her boyfriend escort and guide her to where Otto had reserved their seats at a covered table on a wooden patio deck. “I made him the ham sandwiches you liked so much, from the picnic, and there wasn’t any left for him to take home. I was telling him about how they have good ham here, before we came in.”

The table was arranged in the shade and was decorated with white tablecloth; shiny silverware and numerous plates, napkins folded into what Flip thought were boats at each placement of the rectangular-shaped table. It looked like it could have fit an easy amount of almost ten people, but there were exactly five chairs and five arrangements. Flip thought it was very fancy, similar to his family’s Thanksgiving dinners at his grandmother’s house...

“Ah-ha!” Otto gave a loud, belly laugh, seeming to not care when some of the attendees look in their direction. Elsa tittered to herself by Otto’s gesture, allowing her husband to escort her to the other end of the long table. “Though, I must ask, vhere de name...Flip, not Philip?”

Flip first held Alice’s hand in one while the other pulled out a chair in the corner, letting her sit down first and pushing her in. “It’s - uh, it’s a nickname I’ve had since I was little, and it just stuck to everyone I went to school with,” he answered honestly, making sure his girlfriend was comfortable first before going to the seat right next to her - until Otto caught his arm.

“No nonsense, young man, you are a guest und shall sit at the other head of the table. Come here, still next to Mäuschen!” Otto commanded, dragging Flip to sit directly across from Alice’s father, who took his seat and watched with unreadable eyes. “Perfekt! Und I sit here, then ve vill habe better conversation. Tell me more of de nickname.”

Flip felt a little too warm from the seating arrangement and being put on the spotlight, but seeing how Elsa and Otto genuinely seemed to be interested in it, he took a deep breath. Feeling Alice’s Mary Jane press against his large foot, he felt a little bit more confident. “My folks sent me to summer camps, especially when I was in the scouts, and I had a habit of flipping off the docks into the lakes. My cabin buddies started calling me Flip, and then, by dinner, the whole camp was calling me that. A lot of the guys I went to camp with went to our school, so I guess they made sure it’d spread.”

Otto chuckled warmly at the story. “Of course, vhat kind of friends vould they be if they habe not reminded people of your big talent,” he commented, glancing to Elsa and Alphonse with a cheeky smile. “Vonderful to know that camp traditions of nicknames still exist.”

“Well, Philip, perhaps someday we will see your amazing flips into a lake or pool,” Elsa offered before Otto opened a can of worms that wasn’t appropriate quite yet. “So, please, tell us: what are your parents like? Surely, they’re wonderful people, if they allow such a polite boy in scouts and camps.”

“My father is a mechanic. He’s very proud whenever he works with cars or machinery,” Flip said fondly.

“Zimmerman...as in Ackerman and Zimmerman Auto Shop?” Alphonse, surprisingly, spoke up.

Flip was quick to nod. “Yeah, yeah, It’s been a sort of family business with the Ackermans,” he answered eagerly. “My father and a close friend of his started it way before I was born.”

“How wonderful.” Elsa was giving an honest smile, which was surprising to Flip, never thinking such a laboring, dirt job like working under and inside cars would be appealing. Then, he thought, of how it was in the family and it was obvious that there was a profitable income. He didn’t take it to heart. “And, your mother? Does she work, too, or is she a housewife?”

“She’s a nurse at the local hospital. Maybe, if you’re interested, Mrs. von Schonburg, she would like to volunteer for your charity plan? I’m sure her and other nurses would like to help with the children’s hospital…”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! And, please, dear, call me Elsa,” she responded joyously, making Flip smile back to her.

“Ackerman und Zimmerman are strong names,” Alphonse suddenly spoke up, interrupting whatever else his wife was going to say next. Flip saw from the corner of his eye how Alice’s lips fell to a hard line and looked her father’s way. He couldn’t see her expression, but her shoulders were tense. “Common Deutsch names. Say, vhich church do you attend vith your family?”

“Father!” Alice suddenly leaned in, her voice thick and testy. “Das ist -!”

“Schatzchen,” Alphonse grounded back, his eyes piercing at Alice. Flip managed to slip his hand under the tablecloth and tugged on her fingers, letting her hold his hand back with a tight grip. “Do not interrupt, it is unbecoming.”

Alice eventually leaned back, keeping her gaze down and her hold on his hand tightened even more. Flip brushed his thumb over her knuckles. He wanted to hold her in his arms and kiss her head, like he always did, but he knew he couldn’t…

“I don’t attend a church with my family,” he answered, strong and brave in his tone. “My family and I attend the big synagogue that’s near the city hall and community college.”

There was an uncomfortable silence at the table, even when the waiter came to deliver glasses of iced water, even though Alice mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. Alphonse stared with a stoic expression at Flip, and Flip himself couldn’t stop from staring back. Yes, he was scared and ready to shit his pants, but he wasn’t going to let go of something - someone he really loved, all because of his family’s belief. Even Alice told him that she wanted him to always take a stand to anyone who would try and see his religion as a negative, when it wasn’t. Alice adored that about Flip and his family, always grateful to be accepted into the Zimmerman household and being taught of their customs and traditions, and it made Flip grateful…

Although, now, Flip was feeling negative with just the look on Alphonse von Schonburg’s face.

“Ein Juden,” he said slowly, making Alice give her father a hard look.

“Yes, sir,” Flip stood straighter, trying to feel tall and confident in himself, “I’m Jewish.”

Flip swore he was watching the man’s nose grow red, but he didn’t say anything more as the trolley of the brunch arrived to their spot, the waiter smiling and unknown to what was going on. He began serving the dishes, and Alphonse simply took his folded napkin and snapped it open a little bit too hard. Elsa was a lot more gentle, but still uncomfortably silent all the while their plates were served first. Flip was grateful that Alice refused to let go of his hand from underneath the table, and was surprised with Otto leaned back, unceremoniously, on his chair.

Smiling.

“I’ve only seen your synagogue from the outside, yet the arrangement of de stained glass is very, very detailed,” Otto said, taking his napkin and ready to tuck it into his shirt. “Be vonderful to see de sun shine inside. Und de gardens outside is alvays lovely to smell on valks in de spring. You go often, Philip?”

“My mother tries to get me to go once a week, although it is a little bit harder now that I’m going to the police academy. She tries to go for every service, or she helps bring them to the hospital, for her patients.”

“How vonderful. My mutter vas de same vith her church,” Otto responded affectionately. “Mittwoch, Samtag und Sonntag, every veek. Soon as I got old enough, I did vhatever I could do to not vear de church pants - terrible stitch dat rode up my -!”

“Otto!” Elsa bursted into a genuine laugh. “Mind your manners, you old hound!”

Otto gave her a cheeky laugh and then reached over to pat Flip on the back, as if they shared a secret joke that no one knew about. Once the plates have been served and the waiter reminded the table to call for anything else, everyone seemed to try and begin eating with ease.

“Thought Juden do not eat pork,” Alphonse blurted out casually, causing both Elsa and Alice to freeze their utensils.

Flip, at this point, didn’t hesitate to use his knife to cut his piece of ham into smaller bits. “Some Jewish people don’t eat pork, and some do, depending who it is. My parents allow us to eat pork, unless it’s for a specific holiday, then we do our best to respect Kashrut.” It wasn’t necessary, but Flip took a generous piece of ham and ate it, swallowing and then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Again, it’s different for everyone within the community. It’s a lot more complexed, but I won’t bore you with them, sir.”

“But you had Alice’s sandwiches before,” Otto questioned. He grinned when Flip nodded with some sort of enthusiasm, despite having his mouth full. “Mäuschen is blessed in the kitchen, I say. Been to New York, Chicago, Italy, France und all, but never had the best ham sandwich until Alice made me hers.”

“Alice makes the best sweets, too,” Flip willingly added in, looking to his girlfriend and squeezing her hand. Seeing her roll her eyes slightly and try to hide her embarrassed smile with her fork, Flip snickered. “Whenever she helped with our school events, all her stuff is always sold out. I think she has Betty Crocker running for her money.”

“And you say you’re in the police academy, Philip?” Elsa asked after sipping from her glass. “What made you want to go for the police force?”

“It sounds childish, but...I wanted to be a superhero, when I was really little. I think I’ve always just wanted to make people feel safe, save the day once in a while… I always looked to cops being the first step to becoming a superhero growing up,” he confessed with a half-smile. “I’ll say it’s a lot of work, but it’s pretty great, especially with the support I have. I know it’s going to be all worth it.”

Looking at Alice, the young couple caught their eyes and smiled warmly to each other. Flip knew he wouldn’t have gotten as far as being accepted into the academy without her help. With studying at the library and checking the public records to learn from solved cases and the manuals he was recommended to look over, Alice always made sure to quiz him, get him coffee and food and encouraging kisses. Flip’s parents were also supporting his career choice, too, but it was really Alice who was making sure that he kept his focus on his studies whenever it was necessary. She always made sure to get him back on track when he would rather throw the towel in. Alice never gave up on him.

Elsa and Otto immediately caught on and seemed to have a positive reaction to it, seeing how honest and appreciative he was for Alice and all the help she’s done for him.

“Das mag ich nicht.”

Flip watched Alice’s face suddenly transform from happy and in love, to pure sadness, releasing a long sigh as Elsa reacted to Alphonse in shock. She was saying something to Alphonse, Flip had no idea word-for-word, but he was sure she was scolding him for what he said, igniting a quiet argument between husband and wife. Flip doesn’t speak a word of German but, thanks to Alice, he has learned bits and pieces whenever he would ask her. The many times she would mumble something under her breath, usually when she was frustrated with something and didn’t want to openly curse in front of others… But, besides that, Flip had a good idea what Alphonse was responding so negatively about.

Seeing Alice trying not to cry out of frustration towards her father, doing her best not to cause a scene, Flip completely dismissed his own brunch and focused on his girlfriend. Otto also stopped eating and looked to Alice worryingly.

“Flip Zimmerman, come back to Earth, please!”

Coming out of his trip down Memory Lane, Flip looked over to see his partner and friend, Ron Stallworth, giving him a pointed look to the two coffee mugs in each hand. Sighing, Flip kicked off his feet off his desk and thanked Ron for getting him his fourth refill. He tried his best to ignore Ron’s stare at him, watching him take a few big gulps and give his friend the stink-eye, but that only made ‘the rookie’ grin.

“What’s got Flipper’s head rolling today, huh?” Ron asked, all cheeky and teasing as usual when it was a slow day in the office. “Got your head in the clouds, probably thinking about Playmates?”

“Hardly,” Jimmy’s voice cut in from the other side of him, making Flip sigh. “The only lil bunny you’ll ever catch this man thinkin’ is his wife. Did she pack you any lunch today? I’m starving.”

“Nah, I was hoping you’d treat me to lunch down the street from the last time ya ate my food,” Flip snipped back with a friendly smirk, making Jimmy snicker.

“Anyway, as I was sayin’,” Ron broke the incoming banter that usually happened around this time between Flip and Jimmy, “I was trying to ask you how you proposed.”

“What? ‘Proposed’?” Flip’s face twisted in confusion, looking to his friend with narrowed eyes. “What, you planning on proposin’ to Patrice, after all this time?”

“I didn’t - if you were paying attention to what I was saying before, you would know I was askin’ because I was just curious!” Ron was quick to respond, making Flip slowly turn in his chair to face his partner more directly, just seeing him getting flustered. “Y’know, nothing’s going on here, so why not make small talk; always wondered how ya made the move to whisk a nice lady like Alice into marrying you, anyway.”

“I’d say it’s personal business, but -”

“Oh, this big guy did it in the most public place possible. At a big-ass dinner party her ma was hosting at some fancy as hell arts museum,” Jimmy interrupted again. “He gave her ol’ man a heart attack when she said ‘yes’!”

“What, Alice’s daddy don’t like lumberjacks?” Ron earned a playful punch to his arm from his friend, making sure not to spill his own mug of coffee.

Flip shook his head. “No, he didn’t like the fact that his little girl was marrying a Jew.” When Jimmy went quiet and Ron did a double-take, Flip shrugged his shoulders as casual as possible. “Her father was the only one from his immediate family to move from Germany, her mom was born and raised here, but her own parents were from Berlin, if I remember right.”

“So, wait a minute,” Ron stopped him and took a seat on the edge of Flip’s desk. “So, you, a Jewish man, married to Alice, who’s...not Jewish? Assuming she didn’t convert -”

“She didn’t.” Flip shrugged. “Not a big deal. It’s like I’ve said: never been really big into that part of me, being Jewish, and Alice wasn’t big on her family’s beliefs either. That also blew her parents out of the water when she said she wanted to just get a civil marriage, instead of a big church wedding.”

“But, Alice’s ol’ man ain’t a -”

“No. Just doesn’t...like my kind. The way he was brought up, I guess. I never really asked, but Alice doesn’t know much either. Never got to be in the military, or ever into politics, really, just doesn’t like me.”

There was a long period of silence between the three, allowing Flip to finish his mug of coffee before it got too cold for his liking. Not enjoying the tension that was coming from his two buddies, the tall man cleared his throat before grabbing a cigarette from the carton next to his phone. “But, yeah, like Jimmy said - I knew I wasn’t going to get any blessing, so I decided to be a cocky little shit, and propose to her in front of a lot of rich, high-and-mighty people in one of the nicest suit-and-tie junctions in Colorado Springs history.”

“Certainly made history with driving a man to curse and raise Hell at a silent auction, but alright,” Jimmy slipped in, making Flip bark out a laugh and try to force him to fall back by kicking behind Jimmy’s propped legs. “What! You know what you did was your talk of the first week ya came here.”

The rest of the day carried on like usual, Flip filling out boring paperwork and answering calls. It was only a breather for him once he punched out and stepped outside the precinct, catching Ron digging for his keys in his coat pockets. Flip startled him into a quick jump, making Flip snort a laugh.

“Don’t go sneaking on me, you damn Flipper,” Ron groaned before finally finding his keys in his breast pocket. “Did you finish the report to send upstairs yet?”

“Yeah, dropped it off on the front desk.”

“Alright. Cool, that’s good,” Ron mumbled, nodding and fumbling with his keys. Flip watched him with a knowing look, head tilting to the side as he propped his jacket over his shoulder.

“What did you want to ask, Ron…”

“What? What?” Ron stammered before meeting Flip’s stare. “I don’t…”

“Look, if you don’t ask me what you want, it’s going to bug the shit outta you, and I don’t like doing that to my friends. You know, Alice would kill me for not being open with you, when you’re not hurting anyone,” Flip told him, raising a brow. “You wanted to ask me something earlier, I’m giving you the chance now.”

Ron took a deep breath, looking around for a second before summoning the courage for himself. “It’s just - you know, you say Alice’s old man never gave you a blessing, and you didn’t convert to either religion. Well, I mean, when you said that Alice’s father is from Germany, it just -? I’m just… How do you two make it work?

“Anytime I see you and Alice together, you two just make yourself to be the happiest married couple in the whole world. Not saying you’re not, but, when you look at it in that detail,” Ron made a gesture with his hands, his keys jingling in his palm. “You came from very different backgrounds, and I guess just seeing how your lady accepts everyone, with no second thought, despite…”

Flip leaned against the chilly brick, popping a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it before he drove home. “When we were in high school, I never brought up the fact that I was Jewish when we first started dating. It wasn’t until my mom begged me to bring her home to meet the family,” he started out. “Again, my folks didn’t make it a big deal to raise me Jewish, but my mom had our house decorated; we had a mezuzah, family portraits that were taken in tradition ways back, and Star of David. I already knew of Alice’s family. People talked at our school, of who’s parents were who. Alice was that kind of popular, pretty-girl who everyone talked about and knew about.

“I didn’t want her walking into my house and - I don’t know - think how we all thought German people thought of us, or something,” he laughed at the memory, seeing it clearly as if it was yesterday when he and Alice were teenagers again.

Sitting in the library, her trying have him memorize his history notes for the upcoming test he had to retake, and he could only just stare like the lovesick boy he was. He’d tell her that his mother invited her over to join them for dinner on Friday, remembering how she brightened up and tried to contain her excitement of getting to meet his parents. She asked him what she should wear, if she should bring something for his mother to impress her - flowers, a dessert or maybe a box of candy for his mother to bring to the hospital, and another for his father to bring to the shop. Flip could see himself trying to calm her down, holding her hand…

Then, getting unsure of himself.

“Then, knowing her, she could tell that something was wrong. She always does, I don’t know how she does, but she asked me what was running through my mind. I couldn’t hide anything, so I told her.” Flip swallowed, remembering how he felt, that sort of pressure of waiting for a response from her. Alice listened to him when he said ‘I’m actually Jewish’, and blinked, seeming to process it. The next memory made him actually snicker next to Ron, who was listening almost like how Alice always did: intentive, curious and respectful. “Next thing I know, she just smiled and said ‘okay’.” Flip shrugged, his face splitting into a huge grin. “Okay? What did she think of that? Honest opinion, because I’m about ready to either crap my pants or have my head pop off. She told me that all she really cared for was me being comfortable and happy with her. You know what she thought about me being Jewish, when I asked her?”

Ron shook his head and Flip chuckled.

“When I asked her, she told me she thought it was really interesting and wanted to learn about what I knew. She just...wanted me to tell her more about myself, and didn’t judge anything that would have otherwise been weird to anyone else.” Flip shrugged again, his smile never leaving his face. “I asked her if she thought it was weird to date me, after that, and she gave me a look and snapped back with ‘why the hell would I think it’s weird? I think it’s amazing, and I want to know more!’ Something about how she snipped at me and then smiled like an angel got to me.”

“Is that when you figured you were going to marry her?” Ron asked, a knowing smirk on his face when Flip sighed, slow and long.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s when I knew.”

XXX.

It was dark out by the time Flip made it back home, but still earlier than usual for Flip’s rather packed to the last minutes of the days schedules. Seeing the lights on in the living room, even with the drapes closed, it felt welcoming and safe with the warm, yellow glow of the lights and the front yard light guiding him home to where he knew his beautiful, loving wife was waiting for him. Entering through the front door, announcing his arrival, Flip couldn’t help but grow still as an odd aroma overpowered his nose. He stopped immediately after taking off his shoes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and out of his mouth…

It smelled familiar, but not quite what he expected walking into his own house.

“Alice?” he called, hearing a shuffle coming from the kitchen and his wife cursing under her breath. Coming further through the living room to the wall hiding the kitchen and dining room around the corner, Flip caught Alice attempt to pluck something out of one of her little bread pans, only to drop it back with a hiss and suck her thumbs.

“Mmmm!” she whined loudly all while her thumbs in her mouth, then jumping at the sight of Flip at the corner. Popping them out, the pads of her thumbs red in irritation, Alice stared wide-eyed at him. “Flip! What are you doing home so early? You’re suppose to be still at the station!”

“I finished paperwork early, so Chief let us all go,” he explained, looking carefully between her and the little bread pans. They were the ones Alice usually made her chocolate-banana breads or little cakes in, but what they currently had cooling wasn’t anything he has seen her make before. The tops of whatever they looked braided in a way, with chunks of brown pieces of some mix spread on the top. It looked a bit too brown to be a regular cake or bread, making him wonder if Alice accidentally burned it.

Seeing him look at her baking, Alice peeped with a sliver of terror before scurrying to him, trying to push him out. “Don’t look at it! I messed up,” she rushed, unable to make the solid brick that is her husband to even budge. “You were suppose to come home later, after I clean everything up and started dinner to hide the smell -!”

He was careful to grab her wrists and bring her hands up. Holding her thumbs propped out to him, he kissed the irritated skin and then her palms, turning his head left and right each time before standing to look down to her.

“What are you trying to hide, baby doll? It’s not my birthday...is it?” Flip was terrible at remembering his own birthday, since he usually had other things in mind (but always remembered Alice’s birthday, or their wedding anniversary), but he was sure of himself that he still had some odd months until then. “You’re acting like you’re tryin’ to hide a body on me.”

Alice went red in the cheeks out of mere embarrassment, pouting so cutely at him to see her getting more bothered at being caught - with whatever she’s doing. “I was planning on surprising you with it, but now it’s all ruined. How is it that guys always walk in on surprises all the time? You know, your mother told me the story of how you always seem to ‘walk-in’ on her wrapping your birthday and holiday presents? Passover and Hanukkah, you had her routine down and -”

“You’re not answering me, honey.” Flip cupped her cheeks and squished them up, making her look like a chipmunk with too much food in its cheeks. He gave her an encouraging smirk and shook her head gently. “C’mon, what are you trying to do here?”

Alice huffed and puffed a bit, unable to meet his gaze as she caved in. “I’m trying to make your mother’s chocolate babka,” she confessed, and it all came together as he grinned.

“Is that why she called so goddamn early today?”

Nodding, Alice sunk her cheeks into his palms, seeming to try to look down. “I called her last week, asking if she would tell me her recipe, or where I can find a good one in magazines or books, for starting out,” she explained. “She said she’d call me as soon as she found hers, and we spent all morning rewriting it over the phone and double-checking. I honestly thought you would be home later, so I would have time to call her back before dinner to see what I did wrong.”

“Why’re you trying to hide it from me, Alice?”

“You mentioned a couple weeks back how you missed your mom’s chocolate babka, and I figured it was about time I tried to make something special to you, since your parents live a long ways away now,” she admitted, tugging his wrists to let go of her face and sighed. “I didn’t want to push your mother, since it always seemed so special in your family, but she was...really happy I asked. I just feel like I would have let her down by burning them, even with step-by-step instructions.”

Flip just hummed before reaching over to the still-hot pan, tearing off a decent chunk of the top. Before Alice could stop him, he shoved as much of the bread into his mouth; it was a good thing that his hands were callous enough to ignore the burn, and the fact that he always drank his coffee as hot as possible to be used to it in his mouth, and he just threw his head back and began chewing.

“Flip, you ass! Spit that out!” Alice hissed, trying to reach to the piece hanging immaturely out of his mouth, like a mother trying to take a hazard out of a toddler’s mouth...when the toddler happens to be over six feet tall. Flip was behaving like a bird trying to eat a chunk of burger whole. “I don’t want you to eat it when it’s all burned like that!”

Being able to chew and swallow the first bite and then start working on the remaining bit, making crumbs stick to his facial hair and sprinkle into the collar of his flannel. Alice tried to remain grumpy with him, but there was a smile on her face.

“You’re a jerk, you know that?” she told him with a muffled laugh in her voice, shoving her face into his shoulder when he playfully patted her ass with his clean hand. She tried to brush the crumbs from his shirt while he finished eating with a grin on his face.

Once swallowing, Flip was quick to cup her face with his clean hand, squish her cheeks to pucker her lips and gave her a deep kiss. His wife made a noise, a cute one that reminded him of whenever he would tease her to get her into the mood, and he smiled against her mouth before breaking the kiss. He snickered at the sight of her trying to wipe the dark crumbs he stuck to her face with her sleeve.

“I don’t know what you were complaining about, babydoll, but this tastes pretty damn good to me,” Flip told her confidently, licking his lips before kissing along her cheek repeatedly. Hugging her in his arms, to prevent her from escaping, he hummed a chuckle when she eventually went limp in his arms.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband who ruined the surprise I tried to make,” she sniffed with amusement, causing him to angle her face again to kiss her lips. Sighing against his mouth, she pulled back and he went back to nuzzling her neck with kisses and gentle touches. “I think I’m going to call Ma and ask her to show me how to do it properly. We should really have them visit for a weekend - the weather is suppose to be nice next month, and there’s going to be some community events that they would like -”

“You’re the most amazing woman in the whole damn world,” he said against her skin, squeezing her for a moment. “I love you so damn much.”

“I don’t know what you’re trying to butter me up for, but it’s not working. I’m still upset you -”

He hushed her with a deep kiss, making her whine and have it fall into giggles when he didn’t let up. Rocking them both while he just gave her kisses and making her laugh when he used his teeth on the tickle spots on her pulse, making her shiver, Flip took a deep breath and let himself just feel at home. Feeling Alice snuggle her face into his shoulder, he knew he got her right where he wanted her.

“I still want to eat the rest of it,” he told her warmly, nuzzling his large nose into her hair lovingly. “I think it tastes pretty fuckin’ great.”

“It’s burnt, and I bet it doesn’t taste anything like your m -”

“Probably burnt because I have a smokin’ hot wife, and the babka couldn’t handle it.” This made them both laugh at his unusual corniness to the point that Flip snorted, only making Alice laugh harder against him at the whole situation. “I really do like it, Alice. I’m proud of you,” he told her honestly. He knew why she wanted it to be ‘perfect’, and why she was making this a big fuss. He knew his wife, and he watched her stare into his eyes, unshedding tears welling up in hers as she sniffed and smiled.

“Thank you…”

Flip smirked adoringly and wriggled himself against her. “And, I love you very, very much,” he told her, making her smile bashfully.

“I love you, too, hot shot. Very, very much...even though you ruined the surprise.”

“I can be surprised next time,” he promised her with a cheeky grin. “So, can I have another bite, or are we going to have to tango again?”

XXX.

taglist of buds: @ayatimascd @adamsnackdriver @babbushka @formerly-anonhamster @the-wayward-rose @ben-solo (please message if you would be interested in being added to the oneshot tags!)

So, I understand German pretty well, but I can not for the life of me speak/write it properly. I want to refine my speaking ability, even though I don’t use it for anything in my everyday life...I just find it fun. I like learning languages and learning phrases!

I figured, for Flip being a Jewish man and (possibly) marrying someone who would either be a) not Jewish, or, b) from of German ancestry (especially if they were first generation), would kinda show how he personally handles his own identity with his in-laws and how is ‘affects’ his marriage. In my opinion, I think anyone who would be with Flip wouldn’t look at him as any different or anything negative than the man they love him for, but would want to still be respectful in the same while.

I hope you enjoyed and will let me know what you thought! I really do appreciate feedback and knowing what you think. Thank you again for reading!!

#pilotanonwrites #pilotanonblerb #flip zimmerman x reader #flips wife #flip zimmerman #oc/reader insert #reader insert #female reader insert #female reader

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tartareus · 4 years

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you know something that i hardly ever see anyone in the rpc discussing???? enjoyment. fasten your seat belts, slutpuppies ! this post will be lengthy af for something so simple no cakewalk.

so, enjoyment in roleplay and the lack of it. yep, that’s what i’m going to discuss here tonight. it’s crazy right?? especially when we are all so keen to stress that roleplaying is in fact just a hobby and therefore should not add more pressure to the writers that partake in it - quite the contrary, honestly, it should lift some of the weight of the burdens we carry irl. now although some opinions might diverge on what can or cannot be written in rp ( and tbh that’s neither here nor there right now, not the point i’m trying to make here anyway, but i digress.... ) i believe it is safe to assume that, all in all, roleplaying should at the very least bring some fun to the writers involved.

we often see praises that go along the lines of ‘oh my gwad, your [insert character here] is soooo canon! you write them sooo well!!’ and while that’s all fine and dandy, really there’s nothing wrong with saying that ( i’m guilty as i come, i usually say that when i really like a portrayal of a character so yeah, pot calling the kettle ) and obviously i’m not saying these comments are not sincere, it has just dawned me something, something pretty big for me.

i used to be so terrified of duplicates in the past - seriously, i’d softblock anyone who wrote the same charater as i did because i felt so damn insecure about my writing skills ( not to say that i don’t feel that way anymore, of course i do - i mean, we all do sometimes, it’s natural ) && overall characterization. i eventually grew out of that phase, thank the gods, and have had the greatest rp experiences with duplicates ( yaay! ) but try as i might to stop it.... every once in a while i still catch myself red handed whenever i compare my portayal to the one of a duplicate. i’m not so proud to admit that this makes me feel like shit, not much about my writing per se but the way i get into my characters heads that is.

today was one of those days, but something crossed my mind ( it might come off as silly and pretty obvious to some, but i honestly never thought of it in this light ) and it all felt different when i realised why i shouldn’t care about that. if roleplay is nothing but a hobby all about creativity, then why do we keep pressuring ourselves to cling to canon so damn badly??? sure it’s nice to play a character well enough to the point that your peers recognise not only your skill but your portrayal as a whole as something almost as good ( dare i say if not better in some cases ) as the canon source material - but is it really necessary?? not really.

i mean, even though we do share a common hobby and for it to work we kinda have to write with someone else ( otherwise that’s just pretty similar to writing fanfiction ), we shouldn’t have to put our enjoyment levels at the mercy of someone else’s approval or not??? i’m not sure if i’m expressing myself right here but - we really shouldn’t care about what people think of how we write or how we play a character, okay ???? it’s a fucking hobby, for fucks sake man, chill out bc no one here is going to win an oscar for playing a good tyler durden or edmond dantès or whatever ??? this is for fun and fun only, the rest is confetti.

so yeah, i legit cannot believe how long it took me to realise this but here i am and???? i’ve never felt so good with my writing because of this new mindset??? i mean, playing a character well and playing a character because you enjoy doing it are two different things that sadly are not always linked but that’s not going to be the end of the world here. all’s well as long as the writers are enjoying themselves. aiming to be the best [insert a character here] in the rpc is okay for some but it does rely heavily on the opinion and approval of others, which links a hobby - something that in theory you do for your own enjoyment and distraction - to something beyond yourself and subjective...and if i’m honest this does not suit me at all?? it’s not a competition, there are no winners or losers here. it’s supposed to be just plain good ole fun.

i’d much rather play a muse on my own way because i honestly enjoy doing so than play it because i’m hella good at the portayal even if it no longer brings me as much fun as it used to because i keep forcing myself to be better or more canon-ish than someone. what i mean with this is that all portrayals are valid and there’s plenty of room here for them, some might not like the way you write a certain muse but that’s okay. luckily, rp is just a hobby an as such, only you get to decide if you’re having fun with something or not - to the hell with what anyone else thinks.

#cw; long post #ooc; musings #dont mind me i'm rambling #i was feeling very insecure about some of my muses #especially fiona #and????#this crossed my mind and helped a lot #i love playing her - i really do.#does this mean i do it well? idk #that's not for me - neither for anyone - to decide because the point is #i play her - and other muses - because it makes me happy #if i do it well or not is merely inconsequential #if i'm good or not is nothing to be worried about - i should be having fun regardless #and as it turns out i am #omg this is ridiculously long

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kimjongdaely · 4 years

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I’ve been following you for quite sometimes now and I’ve seen that you’ve change.. isn’t tired to try so hard for getting the interaction that you’ve expected of your stories? I don’t blame you tho but just like you, not many people have time to always be in here yet so suddenly you’ve made few stories need to pay to read and you keep on telling people to reblog. that doesn’t make sense to me. there are people who keep on reblogging yours but probably you didn’t noticed. to me, if you are really writing for fun, hobbies, love writing (not solely bcs of the interaction), I don’t think the paid things is necessary. I am a writer as well so I might understand you a bit. I found you here till AFF, I must say this, that I am disappointed of you. I’m so sorry but I’ll be unfollowing yr account from now on and unsubscribe your stories on AFF. I always enjoyed your stories before, thanks for writing them.

Hi, can I ask how long you’ve been writing?

I’ve been writing for 8 years (I wrote on FFN before and started tumblr in 2016). I threw 8 years of my life into this. Do you know that fanfiction writers write equivalent to, if not more, than any published writer? Does that concept even occur to you? Any published writer gets paid for their books but fanfiction writers? Nothing. Only by likes and maybe a few comments. But not even that nowadays.

And you’re saying I’m asking too much for a few reblogs? Do you know that reblogs share my work to more people, which means you like my stuff enough to recommend them to other people? Do you understand how much that helps me get out of my hole of self-doubt and imposter syndrome? No? I always, always appreciate every single reblog, like, comment or tag. I do in fact look at every single reblog and comment and spend the time to answer them. I have never failed to thank them, but it fucking hurts when you’re constantly met with silence. Likes do not speak to me. To like something is just a click of a damn button and people sometimes don’t even put any thought into a like. But a comment? Or reblog? There’s actual acknowledgement in that, time spent to write something to me, and it tells me you enjoyed my writing.

I WILL SAY THIS ONCE, I WILL SAY THIS AGAIN: YES writers should write because they love it and enjoy it but ALSO we write to be read. Do you understand? A musician performs to be heard, an artist draws to be seen, a writer writes to be read. We write for readers. Writing for ourselves or whatever bullshit people say is not all true.

I am a human being that needs to pay rent, eat and pay for expensive tuition. Spending my time and effort to write for people and asking for literally A FEW DOLLARS in return is not asking for too much. Do you know how expensive books are? Have you ever bought a book in your life? Fanfiction writers are no less legit than published writers (have you seen some of the published shit??? Fanfic are like 200x better written honestly).

I have tons and tons of free stories on this blog and right now I have TWO stories that you need to pay ONLY FOR THE ENDING, THE REST IS FREE LIKE WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT???

I’m so glad you’re unfollowing me because you obviously do not appreciate writers (even though you claim to be one like wtf??? You ask any writer and they will agree with me). Please leave and never come back 👋

#adios bitch #anon #answered

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creatingnikki · 4 years

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Dearest Cat,

How has your experience as a 23-year-old been? I’m a month in – exactly – and I think it’s going pretty well. Of course, it’s not like I see any instant growth or changes but I see little new patterns and my stance growing stronger in things that matter, and it’s all been building for the last few years. It’s nice to see it getting finally materialised in actions, however.

I’m sorry about your breakup. I’ve never been in a long-term ‘official’ relationship but I have been in relationships that have fucked with my mind while breaking my heart so I know how it can significantly affect you for a while to come. And take it from someone who tried the long-distance thing for 6 months, it’s never worth it and it never works out anyway.

I have been, quite uncomfortably and amusingly, been watching a lot of Daniel Sloss stand up comedy and I literally just heard him talk about something I think you should hear too:

“When I was seven years old, my dad said something to me that to this day is the reason I will die alone. Very happily, I may add. But I was seven years old, I didn’t know what life was. I didn’t know what existence was, how the fuck would I know? So I thought I’d ask my dad ’cause he can fix a computer, so he must know. So I was like, “Dad, what do we all do? What’s the meaning of life? Why are we all here? What what the fuck?” And my dad loves his kids, so he wants to explain to his son in a way that he’ll understand, but unfortunately, his son’s a fuckhead. So he has to explain it in a way that a fuckhead will understand, and he accidentally did it perfectly, and it’s stuck with me since then.

This is what he said, right? I’m seven years old. He goes, “All right, buddy. Just imagine that your life, my life, everyone else’s individual life. Imagine all of our lives are like our own individual jigsaw puzzles. As we’re going through life, we’re just slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that we’ve learned until we get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has also lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image we’re trying to make is, we’re just confidently fucking guessing. So the best way to do a jigsaw, when you don’t have the image to work off, is to start from the outside, the sides and the four corners. Family. Friends. Hobbies/interests. Job.

Now obviously, as you go through life, some of these bits are subject to change. Sometimes you’ll make new friends, and you’ll lose contact with old so you gotta move this corner around a bit. Sometimes you’ll get a job. That means you can’t have certain hobbies. You gotta decide then, “Do I want more me time or do I want more work time?” You gotta move the stuff around. Sometimes you’ll have a family member that dies, and they’ll leave a big hole in your life. In that moment you’ll have to find a way to fill that void, otherwise you’ll be incomplete forever. ”

Now, that made perfect sense to me, because I was seven years old. I fucking loved jigsaws. So I was like, “All right, okay. So once you’ve got the stuff on the outside, what’s the main bit of the image? What we are all working towards?” And he goes, “Well, that’s That’s the partner piece. You and this perfect person who you’ve never met before to come out of nowhere, fit your life perfectly, complete you and make you whole for the first time in your life, much like your mother did for me. ” Seven. Seven years old. I wish you just said, “Ice cream!” And we could have fucked off.

And even though what he said sounds sweet and whatever, what it manifested in my seven-year-old brain was this, “If you are not with someone, you are broken. If you are not with someone, you are incomplete. If you are not with someone, you are not whole. ”

And that’s not just something my dad made me feel, that’s something that we as a society have made every single child born in the last 40 years feel. Every Disney princess has a prince, every prince has a princess, every television show or movie always has a character in it that doesn’t want to be in a relationship. They’re happy with who they are. But then by the end of the series, guess what. They were wrong! They were wrong for wanting to be alone, what a fucking idiot. Everyone needs someone, yeah. They were just a toasty little marshmallow, weren’t they? It’s all to do with love.

Divorce, an entirely common thing that there is nothing wrong with. When you’re growing up and your friends’ parents get divorced, you’re told to not talk about it or mention it to them because it’s taboo, and it is taboo is because every relationship on the outside is perfect, because none of us are willing to admit that none of us know what the fuck we’re doing. And when you raise children in that world, where everything points towards love and everything’s perfect on the outside, when you’ve raised them for 18 fucking years, when we become an adult for the first time in our late teens and our early 20s, we’re so terrified.

We’re so trying to be an adult that some of us will take the wrong person, the wrong jigsaw piece and just fucking jam them into our jigsaws anyway, denying that they clearly don’t fit. Oh, we’ll move pieces out the way, I don’t need this hobby, I don’t need this opinion. Mom who? The bitch with the tits. What’s she done for me recently? I’m gonna force this fucking person into our lives because we’d much rather have something than nothing. Then five years later, you’re stood looking at a jigsaw you don’t recognize, being like, “Ah! There’s a fucking cunt in the middle of this.”

Maybe you do meet the perfect person. Maybe you meet them, you go out. They make you laugh. You make them laugh. They’ve got a stupid laugh, but you fucking love it. They like what you like. They like your idiosyncrasies. It’s great. It’s perfect. Oh, my God, they’ve completed you. For three months. Every relationship is perfect for three months. And here’s why. ‘Cause after three months, that’s when you realize that nobody else is a jigsaw piece.

Everyone else on this planet is as deep and as complex and individual as you are, which means they too have spent the last 20 or so years of their life working on their own jigsaw puzzle, in the same way that you’ve been working on yours. You can’t suddenly expect them to give up everything they’ve come to achieve to suddenly fit into yours in the same way that you’d be pissed off if they asked you to sacrifice everything you’ve done, suddenly come fit into theirs, but now, because you like each other and because you’re interested in each other, now you have to make a jigsaw together. And we all know how fucking annoying that is. But you do it ’cause you’re in love and you’re interested, and maybe for the first couple years, it’s great. It’s like, “Oh, my God, you love this bit of me. I love this bit of you. Oh, my God, we got the same thing, yeah!”

But time does not equal success. You can spend five or more years with someone, and only then, after all the fun you had, be looking at the jigsaw and realize you’re both working towards very different images. Only then realize that you want different things. And in that moment, you have a very, very difficult question to ask yourself. One. Do I admit the last five years of my life have been a waste? Two. Do I waste the rest of my life? 55% of marriages end in divorce. 99. 0% of relationships that started before they are 30 end. If those were the stats for surgery, none of us would fucking risk it. But because it’s love and we’re stupid, we just lie on the operating table like, “Maybe this time I won’t die inside. ” My generation has become so obsessed with starting the rest of their lives that they’re willing to give up the one they are currently living. We have romanticized the idea of romance, and it is cancerous. People are more in love with the idea of love than the person they are with.”

You should definitely watch his whole special on Netflix. That guy makes you uncomfortable. But he also makes you laugh. And sometimes, like in his above sketch, he makes you really think.

I think he has said all I would want to tell you about your break up – and I hope it’s helpful because I spent 30 minutes trying to find its transcript haha. And I don’t know what his conclusion really is, I still have the rest of the show to watch, but I think….I think love will come to us when it has to. Until then we just have to live our lives with joy and love for ourselves anyway.

Your meaning of love…I described something similar when I spent 13th Feb – the night before Valentine’s Day making my profile on Hinge. And that’s the thing that most people don’t understand – while 90% people I know first care about the physical appearance of the person, I care about whether we connect and have a spark. Whether we can make each other laugh and kinda just be at the same level/frequency. As you said…Connection of minds and souls and knowing each other to your core. Interestingly, there’s something that hit me like a fucking truck a few months ago and I scribbled it down before it had the chance to move on and leave me confused:

All this. Writing in your journal, underlining sentences in books, taking pictures you’ll never put up on social media or show anyone. All this is your consistent and earnest effort to try to communicate and connect with your past self and get to know your future self and coordinate between the three dimensions of who you were, are and will be. It’s all for you. By you. No one else needs to validate you. Or understand you. Or question you. It’s not their place, it never was.

You need to realize the person your past self was trying to become. The person your future self will need to be. You need to have patience when you can’t figure it out. When you feel betrayed. Because no matter how lacking you may be, you will never have any malicious intentions. You’ll not be flaky, you’ll not be weak, you’ll not throw yourself under the bus. Writing letters to yourself, making playlists so meticulously to capture every season, every mood and continuing despite being uncertain and confused…it’s all you reaching out to yourself.

And I think…it’s when we’re earnestly and constantly trying to connect with ourselves when we come across a person who does the same…we will easily and naturally connect with them, their energy.

I realize that due to the Jigsaw sketch by Daniel Sloss this letter has gotten pretty lengthy. But I still want to talk to you for some more. I hope you’re with me and have connected with my words up until now

About the work friends and how they were there for you and made you feel…isn’t that one of the most comforting, lovely and reliving things? Kinda unexpected too, no? I remember last year, a random lunch on a random workday, I looked around at these 4 smart, brilliant, kind and strong women – my co-workers and friends – at the round lunch table talking about meaningful things – personal and worldly – as we always did and just thinking – wow, finally, I finally belong! I’ve always been a very one-to-one person when it came to friends and was never part of a group (other than groups that feel absolutely uncomfortable and unwelcomed) that was so accepting, loving, sensitive and sincere. And smart! Gosh, so damn smart!

Soon after, each of us left that company – horrible management – and it’s been a year now. We are in touch but of course, it’s never going to be the same as before. And that’s okay. Just thinking of those times and them is enough to make me feel as loved and accepted as I did back in those days. And that’s what I want to tell you – you will come across such people who will truly care about you and help you nurture yourself but their life will overlap with yours just for a while. As a child, this would make me sad and angry! Now, it only makes me super grateful and mindful about being present in the moment that is now, in the life I am living right now. And I hope you can too

So, Cat, I don’t know how many months you have of being 23 but I hope they are all, as well as the coming years, full of connecting with yourself, with people that genuinely care about your well-being and growth and with everything that brings you joy and peace.

Lots of love,

Nikki

I wrote this letter for Nura basis some questions they answered. You can read the questions and their answers here.

Guys - I have received 29 people’s responses for The Love Project - 29 days of love letters. So I won’t be accepting anymore, however, you can read other letters here.

I may do this again later in the year and if you would want to receive a love letter from me then, you can drop in your email ID here xoxo

#the love project #29 days of love letters #letter 12 #love letters #february 2020 #happy february #valentine's day #let me write you love letters #creatingnikki #love #heartbreak #break up #daniel sloss

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daggerzine · 4 years

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Ray Farrell on music and his time at SST, Blast First, Geffen and many more.

Ray Farrell has had a lifetime surrounded by music. First as a fan as a young kid and then eventually working for a series of record labels. He’s obviously a fan first and foremost as you can tell by reading below. It also seemed like he was there at the beginning of some major music scenes happening.

I had met Ray very briefly at one of the A.C. Elks hardcore shows that Ralph Jones put on in Atlantic City in the Summer of 1985 though Ray doesn’t remember it (honestly, a bunch of us were standing in a circle and chatting so I’m not even sure if any proper introductions were done).

Anyway, knowing some of the record labels that Ray had worked for I wanted to hear the whole story. I contacted him and shot him some questions and he was more than happy to elaborate and let us know where he’s been and where he’s going. Take it away, Ray!

Where did you grow up?

RF-Jersey City and Parsippany, New Jersey in the 60/70’s. I have two younger brothers.

What did you listen to first…classic rock or stuff earlier than that?

RF-Rock wasn’t classic yet. My earliest memories of music are my parents’ modest collection of 45’s and grandparents’ 78’s. My mom had a handful of singles on Chess and Satellite (pre-Stax) that she said fell off a truck. We rented our house from a family connected to the mob. The records probably came from them. My mom and her sisters often sang Tin Pan Alley era songs at family gatherings. Harmony was encouraged!

Some records I heard as a toddler stayed with me forever. Lonnie Donegan’s “Does Your Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor?” is a skiffle classic. Chuck Berry’s “Guitar Boogie” and “Last Night” by the Mar- Keys are still favorites. I remember being spooked by the overblown production of the “Johnny Cash Sings Hank Williams” e.p. on Sun Records. In the mid 60’s, my mom had top 40 radio on in the house unless my dad was home. When I was in kindergarten, a high school neighbor in our building babysat me for a couple hours after school a few days a week. Her girlfriends came over regularly. They listened to a lot of doo-wop, which I still love today. The babysitter and her friends taught me how to slow dance, even though I wasn’t nearly a full grown boy. J

My best friend in 7th grade was a Beatles fanatic and we immersed ourselves in decoding clues to the “Paul McCartney Is Dead” gimmick. That was a brilliant scam and a fun short term hobby. It was a deep dive into The Beatles music as a junior music detective. By the time I started buying records, The Beatles were on their way out.

I happily lived for many months on only three albums-

CCR’s “Bayou Country”, Iron Butterfly’s “In A Gadda Da Vida” and the Beatles “Sgt. Pepper.” I joined the Columbia Record Club. I got the first twelve albums for one buck. That was a popular scam. Those first twelve records shaped my taste because they were the only records I had. I didn’t know what to order but I chose very well in retrospect. After that, I bought a lot of records. I didn’t smoke, but many of my friends did. A carton of cigs cost the same as an lp- 5 bucks.

I learned in 7th grade that if I knew the songs that girls liked, we would have something to talk about. Girls loved Tommy James and The Shondells and The Rascals. I still do! I had a wider range in music taste than most of my high school friends. Everyone in my extended circle loved the Stones, Neil Young and the Allman Brothers. In a tighter circle we were into David Bowie, Lou Reed, Sparks, Todd Rundgren etc. I loved Mountain, Led Zep, Hendrix, Budgie, The Kinks, Alice Cooper, Sabbath. At first, The Stooges seemed too deep and serious for me. A little scary because I thought if teenagers felt like this all over the world, I’m doomed. I bought the album with “Loose” and played that song for weeks before listening to the rest of it. The girl next door had Iggy’ s “Raw Power” album the week it was released. When glam rock was happening in England, there was a weekly NYC radio show that played the Melody Maker Top 30 singles. I was fascinated by T.Rex, Slade, Hawkwind. I don’t recall if prog rock was a tag yet, I knew that I didn’t like songs that rambled on for more than 7 minutes. There were exceptions of course- some King Crimson, Yes, Mahavishnu. I was impressionable. Radio station WBAI hosted “Free Music Store” concerts with local acts. One show was a keyboard group called Mother Mallard that had banks of synthesizers on stage. They were similar to the music of Phillip Glass and Steve Reich, who you would only hear on that same radio station. I talked myself into buying their records, but it took years to comprehend them. I was too young to be listening to such serious stuff. I played soccer and ran track for a couple years. During meets at other schools, I made friends. At parties I heard Issac Hayes, Bohannon and James Brown records. Brown was all over top 40 radio. Rhythm guitar was my jam! Soul and funk records were best for that. I spent many nights listening to AM radio. The signal travels farther at night, so I’d listen to stations far away. It didn’t matter what kind of music it was. Some of my relatives had short wave radios. I was more interested in radio production than short wave content. The production quality has not changed much since then. It often sounds like broadcasts trapped in the ether for the last 30 years.

While I was in high school, it was common for local colleges to host rock and jazz concerts for low prices, sometimes free. The schools had to spend the money sitting in the student union coffers. There was a live music club in my town called Joint In The Woods. The venue began as a banquet hall that doubled as a meeting hall for Boy Scout Jamborees and the like. When it became the Joint, it was a disco. The first night of live music was a show with Iggy & The Stooges. The regular disco patrons were pissed! The guys were mostly goombah’s in Quiana print shirts and bell bottoms. Three or four guys smacked Iggy around after his set. Sure enough, he played Max’s Kansas City the next night as if nothing happened. Because of this club, touring bands were suddenly playing in my town. Badfinger, Roy Wood’s Wizzard, Muddy Waters. The NY Dolls were scheduled but didn’t show up. Springsteen was often an opening act. The N.J. legal drinking age had just lowered to 18. It was a great time. I was still in school, so I wasn’t staying out on weeknights.

I was determined to learn NYC music history by hitting all the Greenwich Village clubs and talking to the owners and bartenders. It didn’t matter what kind of music they specialized in- I was into the vibe. There were occasional scary nights parking near CB’s or jazz spots in that neighborhood. Folk music was on FM radio at the time. A high school friend booked a local coffee house called Tea & Cheese. Mostly locals and ambitious tri-state artists. Martin Mull, Aztec Two Step, Garland Jeffries. Some of Lou Reed’s touring band, The Tots, played there. I went to all kinds of record stores, mainly those that sold rock imports and cutouts. I was fascinated by the street level buzz of a record. In ’74, I heard dub reggae for the first time. The only stores to get that music were in Queens because there was a strong West Indian community there. It may have been the “Harder They Come” soundtrack that got me started. There was a “pay to play” radio station in Newark - WHBI. DJ’s had to buy their airtime. Arnold “Trinidad” Henry had a weekly show playing new calypso and reggae. He was more into calypso than reggae. A lot of calypso was political and comical. Arnold was fascinating! There was often a personal crisis he’d talk about on the air. My favorite incident was when he said that his life had been threatened during the program, so he locked himself in the studio.. Someone called the cops. They convinced him to unlock the door. He just wanted more airtime. Arnold played the first reggae dub track I’d heard- full dub albums were a new concept at the time. Most dub was found on the flipsides of reggae 45’s. One of the shows sponsors was Chin Randy’s Records in Queens. I trekked out there by train to buy my first dub records. That was a trip! Randy Chin’s family went on to start VP Records.

What was the first alternative/independent music you got into? How did it happen (friends? older siblings?)

RF-The term “punk” as a music style hadn’t been coined yet. I vaguely recall equating “punk” with the great “Nuggets” compilation or something Greg Shaw might have writ in Bomp Magzine. I didn’t identify labels as independent. I knew that if the label design was simple and the address was listed, it was probably a small company. There were plenty of record stores carrying obscure stuff. I bought import records from a few NYC stores. I took the bus in until I was old enough to drive. One store Pantasia, was up in The Bronx. I went there one Christmas eve day to get the import of the second Sadistic Mika Band album. The clerk talked me into buying the harder to find first album as well. He said it sounded like Shel Talmy produced it. I knew who that was and it was a revelation to talk to somebody in a record store at that level. That is what a record store should be! I read Phonograph Record magazine, Bomp and Trouser Press regularly. Patti Smith and Television self released their debut singles- those are the first “indie” records I bought, followed by the first two Pere Ubu singles. I remember hearing the Modern Lovers’ “Roadrunner” from the Bezerkley Chartbusters comp on WFMU and thinking that there must be more music like that. It was refreshing.

Seeing Patti Smith and Television perform at CBGB’s changed my life. I connected the dots. I had BÖC albums on which Patti had co-writes. She had a poem insert in Todd Rundgren’s “A Wizard, A True Star” album. She read a Morrison poem on a Ray Manzarek lp. She wrote for rock music mags with distinctive style. I read a brief story about her in the Voice and went to see her do her annual Rock N’ Rimbaud show. Shortly after that she and Television played CBGB’s for six weekends in early ’75. Both bands were really great. Patti didn’t have a drummer yet. Richard Hell was a big inspiration to me. He looked cool. He played bass like he just picked it up the month before. That was a new concept. Television changed bass players in the middle of the residency. Television was the first band I saw with short hair and they dressed like teenage delinquents circa 1962. The CBGB’s jukebox had a good number of 60’s garage records. In my head I conceived Television to be inspired by that music. Made sense to me- Lenny Kaye, who assembled the “Nuggets” comp, is in the PSG. When I went back to see Television headline, The Ramones opened. Seeing The Ramones again, Talking Heads opened. It seemed like the streak of seeing great new bands would not end. They were distinctly NYC sounds. They could not have merged anywhere else. I remember avoiding the band Suicide because I didn’t think the music could be good J. Bands like Tuff Darts, Mumps and The Marbles opened shows but I wasn’t thrilled by them. A CBGB’s band that doesn’t get mentioned much is Mink DeVille. They wore matching outfits like they were playing a low budget Miami dive in 1962J. The club still had the small corner stage. The p.a. was ok and the bands had small amps. The music wasn’t loud in a “rock” way. You could sit at a table right in front of the band. Although we consider the club a birthplace of punk, the club showcased local bands that had been around for a while. I think the club upgraded the p.a. once before building the big stage. I realized at that point that when a band was great or at least interesting live, the records were basic documents of the band’s sound.

What was your first job in the music scene/industry?

RF- Before realizing I wanted to be in the business, I hounded import mail order guys on the phone about non-lp b-sides and albums that weren’t released stateside. I was fascinated by the process. Why were some records not in stores even though they had local airplay? My dad did not listen to much music, but he had an army buddy that made a living in Al Hirt’s band. He came to our house once. He gave my dad a copy of John Fahey’s “After The Ball” album, which he played on. I liked his stories about the session man side of the business. Fahey treated him well. I was generally shy, but when it came to music I would approach anyone I thought I could learn from. I heard horror stories about the music biz in NYC but learned later that those were a mob related labels. At the time, I thought the entire NYC music biz might be that way. I planned to move to California anyway. In high school, I go-fer’d at local Jersey radio stations and talked my way into meeting a few top FM radio dj’s. I thought I wanted to be a professional dj, but my dad wisely talked me out of that. The itinerant radio jock life would not be for me. It was a racket.

In ’76, I took a long low budget cross country trip with my high school sweetheart. Along the way, I stayed in Memphis for three weeks with a cousin who was stationed at the Millington naval base. Got a job at a hip movie theatre that served liquor. I found Alex Chilton in the phone book and spent an afternoon talking with him. I wasn’t yet legal drinking age in Tennessee. It amused him that a fan showed up in his town who was not old enough to drink. En route to Cali, Tulsa, OK was on my route to find Shelter Records and studio , but it shut down and the label moved to L.A. At the time, Dwight Twilley’s “I’m On Fire” was a radio hit. I didn’t think there were still bands like that. Twilley was from Tulsa, but had moved to L.A. by that time.

When I arrived in L.A. I visited small label record company offices. A few offered me jobs or references. I spent two weeks crashing at the Malibu house of a distant family friend. I didn’t want to live in L.A. but I was encouraged by the opportunities. I got a job at the famous record store- Rather Ripped in Berkeley, CA.

Patti Smith told me about Rather Ripped before I left Jersey. In ’75, she and her band went to California for shows in L.A. and Berkeley. The northern Cali shows were set up by the store. She did a poetry reading there. This is well before “Horses” was released. I bought a couple records from the store’s Dedicated Fool mail order service. They had a monthly catalog on newsprint. Thousands of records in tiny font. Every record was described with a few words. This is 1976 and punk rock was just getting started. I worked as a prep cook in a charcuterie associated with Alice Waters’ famous restaurant Chez Panisse. The proprietor knew the record store owners. I wasn’t actively looking to work there, but I talked about music all day every day. They fast tracked me for an interview. Because of a scheduling mistake, Tom Petty interviewed me for the job. His first album just came out and “American Girl” was close to being a hit single. The band came to the store before a local show. Tom overheard the owner apologizing for not being able to do the interview, so he offered to conduct it. It was great. I knew all about his label, Shelter Records. I deliberately avoided talking about The Ramones and Patti Smith because punk was new and against the grain. At the end of the interview Tom told the owners that if he lived in Berkeley, he’d buy all his records from me. The store owner still had to interview me formally the next day, but I knew that I nailed it.

It was owned by two dynamic gents that were connected to Berkeley society and Bay Area journalists. They weren’t typical record store guys. They celebrated the 70’s in the moment. They held court with well known music scribes, musicians, dj’s. They were good friends of The Residents. Perhaps my strangest story is meeting The Residents with the Rather Ripped owners at a S.F. Irish bar that specialized in Irish Coffee’s. I had only recently heard of the group, so I was not cognizant of their marketing myth. At the bar, we were with our girlfriends and wives. One of the Residents tried to convince me and my gf to go back their place for a hot tub session. I laughed out loud and said “geez, what a bunch of hippies”! We didn’t go. In retrospect, I should have gone on the condition that they wore eyeball heads in the tub. At that time, The Residents rarely performed live, but they did in 1975 for the store’s birthday party. The early Bezerkley Records (Jonathan Richman, Greg Kihn) was distributed to stores through Rather Ripped. Their office was a few blocks away. At the store, each employee had unique music taste and expertise. Pop music was changing rapidly with a new energy. Some of us were tapped into it. We all had to know the key new releases in every genre because we were tastemakers. Major labels would beg us to do window displays for new releases. But if they could not find a store employee that liked that artist, it was no go. So, no Pablo Cruise window display. We weren’t against major labels, but we put a lot of energy into selling the ton of music that we loved. Our focus was on imports, indies, promos and cut outs where we could get a good price mark up. We had a rare record search service with customers all over the world. We’d find rare records through trade-ins and by combing record stores all over the state.

There were a few import distributors, but they weren’t hip to many small run U.S. independent releases. That was understandable because bands didn’t often press enough records for a distributor to get excited about. In other words, why spend half your day hunting down records that were only pressed in small quantities. Just as they start selling, you’re out of stock. There gonna sell a hell of a lot more Scorpions’ picture discs! As always, some distributors financed exclusive re-pressings of records that had momentum. The only way to get records like Roky Erikson’s “Two Headed Dog” single or The Flamin’ Groovies’ “You Tore Me Down” 45 was directly through mail order. I wrote to label addresses listed in Trouser Press and fanzines to buy direct in order to sell them in the store with no competition. Major label sales reps didn’t prioritize us because we didn’t shift bulk units of the hits. However, we were so plugged in to the lesser known artists that we were a good place for record companies to try and start a buzz. We could swell 50-100 of a record that all the other stores sold a handful of. Bands showed up at the store while touring. Springsteen bought Dylan bootlegs from us by mail order. Patti Smith’s manager Jane Friedman used the store as a home base when Patti and John Cale came through the area.

Berkeley is in the East Bay of the S.F. bay area. A few months after starting at Rather Ripped, I realized that the city had a rich music scene well before punk /new wave started. There was Fantasy Records, a well known jazz r&b label but best known for CCR; Arhoolie, Solid Smoke, Metalanguage; the contemp classical labels- Lovely Music and 1750 Arch; folk and blues labels like Takoma and Olivia. Of course, bands like Chrome and others started labels to release their own music. Ralph Records was started by The Residents, and they began signing bands. Rather Ripped was also a center for improv, electronic and meditation records.

In ’77 or ’78 I joined the nascent Maximum Rock N Roll radio team. This was well before the magazine. In the early days there were weeks when we didn’t have enough new punk records to fill the two hour weekly show. Tim Yohannon was all about energetic, real rock n roll, so he filled in the program with records by Gene Vincent, The Sonics etc. BTW, Tim applied green masking tape to the three closed sides of every record he had. He gave me a Mekons double single he decided he didn’t like. It was in a gatefold sleeve that he sealed shut with his green tape! Sometimes he re-designed the cover art…never for the better. He made his own pic sleeves for 45’s that didn’t have them. Bands would stare at their own records in bewilderment. Tim was archiving the records of the entire punk and hardcore movement worldwide.

Eventually, Tim brought in Ruth Schwartz, and Jeff Bale as co-hosts- both great people. Jello Biafra was a frequent guest. Tim assembled the “Not So Quiet On The Western Front” lp and later organized syndication for the radio show. I remember hearing the first Disorder ep and thinking -this is the future! J It was exciting. But soon, most hardcore records sounded alike to me. It was like- “Do you want more fries with your fries?” I went to plenty of live shows without knowing a lot about the bands playing them. I was happy when the fashion trended away from jackboots to sneakers…getting a boot kick to the head in a stage dive could be brutal. I didn’t see a lot of skinhead violence at shows, but I know it was changing the scene.

San Francisco and Berkeley were important music centers, activist meccas as well as creative artistic and intellectual hubs. Yohannon had history as an activist. He identified with public protests for causes & social issues. For many teenagers, punk rock was a rite of passage. I think it changed a lot of kids’ lives for the better. The overriding message was to be civically aware of what is going on around you and what affects your life.

Tell me about your time at Arhoolie Records. Where was it located?

Rather Ripped’s owners had a falling out and the remaining owner just wanted to sell records and antiques with his wife. He moved it to a nearby city. Just before the store closed, he told me of an open position at Back Room Distribution, a division of Arhoolie. It was in El Cerrito, a small town north of Berkeley. Chris Strachwitz, the owner of Arhoolie is a legendary record man. He recorded many of his early blues albums with a tape recorder in his car. He owned the legendary Down Home Music store in the same building. Separated by partition behind the store was Back Room. It was an indie label distributor for blues, folk roots music. Rounder Records was still a new label at the time. I gotta admit, when Rounder issued The Shaggs “Philosophy Of The World’ I was in seventh heaven. I worked primarily for the distributor, grooming to be a sales rep but I spent a lot of time in the store. At first, I didn’t yet relate to blues and country music. But there were a lot of touring artists in those styles making a living. It was a strong network of clubs, fans, radio shows and press that fueled it. The store had an incredible selection of obscure 50’s/60’s rockabilly and garage band comps. The Cramps were my favorite band at the time. The rockabilly comps mostly on a the Dutch White Label, were treasure troves of insane songs. My heart was in new music- whatever you wanna call it, punk, new wave, art music. That’s the business I wanted to be in. I used my time to learn more about distribution operations. The people that worked at Arhoolie and in its community were fun music heads. There were a lot of good musicians among them. It was a great time to live in Berkeley.

What was next, Rough Trade and CD Presents? Was that in San Francisco? I went to that Rough Trade store a few times and it was an amazing store.

I knew folks from Rough Trade UK because I bought imports from them to sell @ Rather Ripped. When they wanted to open in the U.S. they contacted me, but at the time the wage was low and there wasn’t enough space to work. I was interested in working in the distribution division, not the store. They speiled something about it being a socialist business. I stayed at Arhoolie for a little while longer. In the meantime, I was offered my own weekly late night radio show on Pacifica’s KPFA in Berkeley- same station as Maximum Rock N’Roll. I took over a show called “Night Sky”, an ambient music program. My interim program title was “No More Mr. Night Sky” until I settled on “Assassinatin’ Rhythm”. The station’s music director was a contemporary classical composer closely associated with avant -garde and 20th century music. A major segment of my show was for industrial, post-punk and undefinable music. I hosted a few live on- air performances with Z’ev, Slovenly and Angst among others. Negativland’s “Over The Edge” program started on KPFA around this time. KPFA was 100,000 watts of power with affiliate stations covering the Central Valley down to Fresno and Bakersfield.

When the time was right, I moved to Rough Trade’s U.S. distribution company in Berkeley. The record store was in San Francisco. We distributed a lot of British records sent by Rough Trade UK, often in small quantities. Rough Trade US was set up to press and distribute select RT and Factory records by Joy Division, ACR, The Fall, Stiff Little Fingers, Crass. It was cheaper and more effective to press in the U.S and Canada. I also distributed some U.S. labels but there was one Brit on the staff that hated most American music. On top of that, it could be a dangerous place to work. One of the staff was importing reggae records and weed from Jamaica to our warehouse. The local connection was shot on his porch shortly after he picked up a shipment! I was lucky to spend a few days travelling with Mark E.Smith of The Fall. He loved obscure rockabilly and garage band records. I was able to return to Memphis for a while to prep the first Panther Burns album for release. Tony Wilson of Factory put up most of the money to keep RTUS going. He was a brilliant character, but I learned from talking with him how not to conduct business. I often got sample records from bands that wanted distribution. Pell Mell’s “Rhyming Guitars” e.p. was the start of my long association with the band. I enjoyed selling records to stores all over the country. I learned about local scenes, records, fanzines, clubs and college radio stations everywhere. Making these sources connect for touring bands and record sales was exciting. Because Rough Trade is British, we had the benefit of connections with club dj’s. We pressed and promoted New Order’s “Blue Monday” single on a shoestring budget. For a long time, it was the best kept secret from the mainstream. I left Rough Trade for Subterranean Records ( Flipper etc) for a spell while working in a record store. The guy that put up the money for the record store ran guns to Cuba through Mexico. Thankfully, not through the actual store. I booked Cali shows for Panther Burns, The Wipers, Sonic Youth, Whitehouse.

Who owned the CD Presents label? I remember that Avengers compilation.

It was owned by a lawyer, David Ferguson. He had a recording studio as well. I didn’t understand why he wanted to run a label. He did not have an ear for music. But we did release a Tales Of Terror lp! He almost released a DOA album that I thought the band would kill him over. Many years later I got into a fist fight with one of David’s employees in a limo ride shared with Ferguson and Lydia Lunch. We fought through the window separating the driver from the passengers. I would love to recreate that for a film. Good times!

My main role there was to set up the first Billy Bragg record in the U.S. Billy’s manager was the legendary Peter Jenner and both were great to work with. They were using CD Presents as a stepping stone to a major label. In the meantime, I knew a few people at SST. Joe Carducci is an old friend. He was pitching me to move to L.A. and work there, but I resisted for a while. I had just met the woman that I knew would be the love of my life. I didn’t want to move to SoCal. Joe gave me an ultimatum. He sent three advance cassettes that convinced me to go- Meat Puppets’ “Up On The Sun”, Minutemen’s “Double Nickels” and Huskers’ “New Day Rising” That’s an excellent recruiting strategy. I later married the love of my life.

On the side I booked shows for bands I loved. Gerard Cosloy asked me to book Sonic Youth first northern Cali shows. I also booked shows for The Wipers and noise band Whitehouse

Was SST Records next? How long did you last there and what was that like?

I was there for three years. “How long did you last there?” sounds like I was biding my time :) I’m often asked about my time with SST.

Carducci hired me to do PR. That meant publicity, college radio, regional press. Video was a valuable promo tool. MTV’s “120 Minutes” program was a great way to promote our records.

In 1987 we put out more records than Warner Brothers. By that time, I hired people to help.

I’ve done a number of interviews about SST. If you have specific questions, shoot. I recall that my social life was almost entirely with my co-workers and bands on the label. I was nearly oblivious to music from other labels. I was a big fan of Dischord and Homestead. Metallica, COC, Voivod and the Birthday Party/Nick Cave were my non-SST staples.

I think around this time I had met you briefly in NJ at one of the Elks Lodge shows that my old friend Ralph Jones put on. Were you living in NJ at that point or just visiting?

You’ve mentioned that before and I don’t recall the specific show. I moved out of NJ permanently in ’76. I came back for annual summer visits to NYC, north Jersey and Philly. Some high school friends went to Upsala College, then the home of WFMU. On my first visit back in ’76 I met Irwin Chusid and R. Stevie Moore. Some high school friends were connected to Feelies before they took that name.

Was Blast First! next? I met Pat Naylor once and hung out with her at a show and she was really sweet.

Yeah around the time I left SST, the folks in Sonic Youth called saying that they had left as well. They wanted me to be involved with Blast First! in the U.S. I knew Paul Smith because he released their albums in the UK. Blast First UK released a number of Touch N Go and SST records. The label was a division of Mute which had a U.S. deal with Enigma. My job was almost entirely “Daydream Nation” promotion. It was so much fun to be able to go deep with one album. We issued Ciccone Youth shortly afterward, which augmented the overall Sonic Youth story. The only other active touring band was Band Of Susans and on a limited level, Lunachicks and Big Stick. It was only one year of work before Enigma cut Mute/Blast First loose. I went on Sonic Youth’s Soviet Union tour and I had a few memorable meetings with Sun Ra. David Bowie called a few times asking about recording studios that Dino Jr and Sonic Youth used. Bowie had a brilliant idea to record Suicide’s “Dream Baby Dream” with Glenn Branca’s large guitar group. We tried following up on it but Bowie was immersed in Tin Machine and other projects.

Was it on to Geffen then?

Yes, Sonic Youth had good meetings with the label. I had recently met Mark Kates who was championing the signing. He suggested that I come in to meet the entire company. He brought my name up with David who said, “we need someone like that here”.

I had fleeting thoughts that working for a major was “selling out”...punching corporate clock. I wanted to apply what I knew on a larger scale.

What was that like, working for a proper major label? Was David Geffen still involved?

On my second day there, David called me into his office. He is down to earth, street smart. Like many of the best in the biz, he didn’t have an attitude. He had met with the Meat Puppets. He sensed that Dinosaur Jr. was important. I reminded him that I was not hired for a&r.

He said- “I don’t assign job titles. If you find something else you’d like to do here, you can pursue it ‘after 5pm’ ”. I found reissue projects like the Pere Ubu box and Raincoats catalog. I recorded a new Raincoats album. I signed Southern Culture On The Skids, Garrison Starr, Skiploader. I assembled and recorded Rob Zombie’s Halloween Hootenanny comp. With Sonic Youth, I pondered making records with John Fahey and Townes Van Zandt. After ten years, it was time to move on.

Tell us what you do now, didn’t you get involved with digital music at some point?

Geffen Records was folded into Interscope in 1999 and I was bored with the limitations of the business as it was. Digital music was gaining ground solely through illegal file trading on Napster. I knew there would be a major shift in the business moving to digital. I worked for the download site. eMusic.com, signing distribution agreements with labels. This was years before iTunes and YouTube. Major labels would not work with us because mp3 files are open source files that could be traded freely without control. They saw eMusic as a facilitator of illegal file trading. Like marijuana use leading to hard drugs! In the big picture, I knew that digital downloads weren’t “sexy”. But at some point, digital music would develop into something easier to track and use. We skipped the major labels. The bigger independent labels understood that digital music would be the future. It was a great place to be. I knew a lot of music, but I had no idea there were so many labels in every country. One label owner told me that I had the best job in the world. I knew that to explain this new unproven music format it could be an uphill climb. So I took the time to research label websites for song samples. That way I could find common ground with label owners. There’s surf music in Brazil? There’s a young female cellist duo in Prague that make energetic music? There’s archaic royalty rules connected to opera arrangements? Bring it on! It certainly changed how I listen to music.

It was a time when business rules and legal rights had to change in order to deal with digital income disbursement. For example, digital downloads could be sold by the song while royalty payments were based on album sales. eMusic was at the forefront of those changes. When iTunes launched, digital music was “legitimized”. Borne out of eMusic was RoyaltyShare which provides a royalty accounting platform for labels. It is now a division of The Orchard and I divide my time between The Orchard and RoyaltyShare.

Who are some current bands you are into?

A loaded question! I listen to a lot of new music. I spend a lot of time listening to records and cd’s in my collection. Of current artists, I really like Steve Gunn’s music. I listen to the projects involving members of Sonic Youth. Bill Nace, Kim’s partner in Body/Head is a guitar genius. Body/Head’s music is a cathartic experience for me. London is lucky to have Thurston Moore living and working there. I think the music they make separately is far more exciting that what Sonic Youth would’ve made if still together.

Lately I’m digging Melenas from Spain, Hayvenlar Alemi from Turkey. Quin Kirchner is a Chicago based drummer that put out a great jazz record in 2018 called “The Other Side Of Time”. I think he plays on Ryley Walker ‘s records.

Because I’ve spent so much time with the music of Sonic Youth, Branca and Rhys Chatham, I crave the occasional dive into instrumental symphonic guitar army and tonal stuff. Current favorites in that vein are Bosse De Nage, Pelican, Sunn O)))

Given the chance I’ll see any performance by Mary Halvorson, Ches Smith, Marc Ribot or Mary Lattimore.

It took me years to get it, but I’m now a big fan of Keiji Haino’ music. Dean McPhee is a British guitarist I really like. I just bought a couple of Willie Lane lp’s on Feeding Tube.

I research music history and the development of the industry. There are historical and social components of every type of music by culture, country, time period. I love stories about riots at premieres of new avant garde works. I read a book about famous classical composers in the 18th Century playing home concerts (salons) where people are talking the entire time…but they are paid handsomely for the performance. Streaming music sites and YouTube are vast repositories of music and cultural documentation.

Do you still make it out to many shows?

I go to two/three shows a month when I’m home and more when traveling especially NY/London. I start work early in the morning so I’m not out late often. I understand why people see less live music as they get older. I’m done with music festivals. The Big Ears Festival is the only Stateside event that might inspire me to stand for eight hours.

I always hear music by new artists that I really like. I don’t always go to see the live show. Sometimes I hear a new band that sounds like a band I liked 20 years ago. I wouldn’t deliberately see a band that uses another band’s sound as a template.

What are your top 10 desert island discs?

I cannot do 10. It’s 20 or nothing. If you say sorry Ray, it will be nothing. FineJ If I’m on an island, I’ll listen to the ocean waves and sounds of nature. If I’m relegated to a desert, I’ll listen to the blood coarsing through my veins.

Miles Davis- Kind Of Blue

Television- Marquee Moon

Peter Brotzmann- Machine Gun

Sex Pistols -Never Mind The Bollocks

Rolling Stones- Let It Bleed

Soundtrack – The Harder They Come

Billy Harper – Black Saint

Kleenex/Liliput- First Songs

Patti Smith Group -Easter

Hound Dog Taylor & The Houserockers- Houserockin’

Led Zeppelin- Houses Of The Holy

Sonic Youth – Daydream Nation

Elvis Presley- Sun Sessions

The Cramps- Songs The Lord Taught Us

Pell Mell -Flow

Procol Harum- A Salty Dog

Sibelius- Complete Symphonies

Lou Reed -Coney Island Baby

Meat Puppets- Up On The Sun

The Kinks- Kinks Kronikles

“Hmm....Flow or Star City?”

Any final words? Closing comments? Anything you wanted to mention that I didn’t ask.

I’ve been involved off and on with the artist Raymond Pettibon for a music project called Supersession. He has made records under this moniker before. This project began in 1990 and stalled for many years. We revived it a couple years ago. I play bass. Raymond wrote many pages of words and lyrics that he passed to the band, encouraging us to write music behind them. It’s different from Raymond’s other records because it is not improvised. Rick Sepulveda, our guitarist is a great songwriter and he wrote music for Raymond’s words. Rick sings a bunch of the songs because Raymond loves his voice. We did a NYC performance in November that was really fun. So now of course, I’m thinking we should play monthly in L.A. We are nearly finished with the album that we recorded at Casa Hanzo, the San Pedro studio Mike Watt owns with Pete Mazich. Raymond is a brilliant man; fun and inspiring to work with. When I practice with Rick, he’ll often break into a cover song deep in the recess of memory. Like John Cale’s “Hanky Panky Nohow” ,Kevin Ayers’ “Oh Wot A Dream” or the Doors “Wishful Sinful”. We may cover a Harry Toledo song. It’s a blast. I hope to have the album finished in July.

Tav, Bobby, Pell Mell and Ray

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ofcloudsandstars · 4 years

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Hi! I would love a reading if you have the time. Obviously a lot of things are in flux now, and a huge shift for me is happening for my spirituality and the state of my soul. It feels like they’re the dissolved sludge in a chrysalis, if that makes sense, lol. Can you help me understand what’s going on in there? I find myself thinking about my past lives, my relationship with magic, and sources of my power. Any insight would be appreciated! Thank you so much 💕

Just a general note for now: Reading requests are closed. I will get to the requests in my inbox but just to make sure I can get to all of them and won't be drowned I am closing it lol. Each reading does take a lot of energy so they may take me a while to answer all of them but rest assured if you sent in a request I will get to you!

I will be happy to do a reading for you! It’s a bit long so I did a read more:

1- your general card - Ace of Wands reversedThis card shows that you are beginning a journey within. This journey will help you to revitalize your sense of self and bring more opportunities in the future but it's a process of evolution, self discovery and a journey into your past and present to re-evaluate your spirit and shed what's no longer needed while rediscovering the essential parts before you can move forward. The ace of wands shows that you have the energy and passion there to take on this journey yet you aren't defined yet, your current path isn't clear and you may have a lack of direction. What can help clarify this path is to first focus on where your true passions lie and what your spirit needs. Like most reversed cards, this card encourages self reflection but it's also a card that shows your process of rebirth is on hold until you make these discoveries. Self reflection and realization takes a lot of time, so be patient cause this is one of those situations that it's more about the journey than the destination. If you are feeling lost in the sauce, you are supposed to feel lost in the sauce and take this time to dig through yourself and rediscover what's important to you on a soul level.

2- the cocoons purpose/why you are in a cocoon - Three of Wands reversedLike the previous card, this card is showing that it's time for you to grow and expand, but within yourself before you can spread your wings out in the world. If you didn't take this time to look within and explore yourself, the future will hold less opportunities simply because you would lack the awareness and wisdom to see that they are there. This journey of personal development may take a while (this card is pairing a lot with #4's message) and there could be some creative blockages that may make you feel frustrated or disappointed, but the setbacks are an essential part of your life's journey and help illuminate things for you to gain new wisdom and perspective.

3. what you should do in the cocoon - Page of Wands reversedThis card is only amplifying what the others are pointing out. The fact that this is in the center of the spread shows that this journey is about self evolution and spiritual rebirth. You may feel that you have a lot of energy within you to begin something new yet you may either not have a clear direction yet, may have begun only to get a little lost on the way or took the wrong approach or have had a lot of setbacks from the outside world that could have dampened your motivation. However this card shows that it's not a time for doing, it's a time to rediscover yourself, find what speaks to your spirit and let the insights come to you from the creative void. Taking action with this energy at this time may be unwise as you may take the wrong approach again. You are still in the early stages of formation in the cocoon. You are just to 'play' with your new ideas, experiment, see them grow and blossom. Don't force anything, just sit and self reflect and it will come to you.

4. the outcome of the cocoon - Seven of Pentacles uprightIt's no surprise this card would come up as this journey is a spiritual one and you are in it for the long haul. The seven of pentacles shows that with hard work and understanding the value of putting in time and energy for long-term rewards you will be able to build a strong spiritual foundation. It may be a path that is slow to build, full of frustration and slow wins, but it's worth it. Even if you may lose motivation at times because you don't see the rewards yet, this card always invites you to reflect if you feel on track, look at the bigger picture and celebrate your progress so far. Spiritual growth is a life long journey.

5. Obstacles - Strength uprightThis journey can sometimes be full of uncertainty and frustration and you may find it easy at times to throw in the towel after your energy can be repeatedly used up. When it feels easier to quit or rage at everything remember it's ok to take a break and take it one day at a time. A lot of strength comes from the ability to endure other than breaking through right away. You may get challenged a lot or you could feel trapped in this cocoon feeling as if you'll never break out, but know that it is apart of the process. Write down all the things you are passionate about. Think about the time when you were a child and you had your favorite hobbies or things to do. When you are feeling your worse revisit that list and try to experiment with those things again. This whole process is about your experimentation and self exploration. You do have what it takes to endure!

6. Advice - The sun reversedThis card just echoed what I wrote at the end of Strength! It's time to reconnect with your inner child!! In adulthood (especially since us millenials are blessed with figuring out our lives and adult stability in the End of Times) we get so lost in the hustle/bustle, depression, nihilism and patterns of every day life that we forget how to have fun and what fun even means. Fun was a way for kids to explore their world and relationship towards it in a carefree way. Life is meant to be an experience. It's meant to be an experience for our souls to grow, for us to get a chance to explore ourselves in a new time period, in a new identity, in a new body. It's meant to be an experience that helps us gain perspective or be more vibrant. It's up to you to find fulfillment in that experience and as children we all instinctively knew what that meant until this dystopian society beat it out of us (or worse, tried to monetize our hobbies and say the only way what we could ever do have value is if we can market it on social media.) There is no golden pot at the end of the rainbow as our reward (I know there are some religious beliefs that what you did in life grants you glory after it- but for arguments sake lets just focus on our current reality living life then be concerned about what happens after). The only thing that awaits us after life is death. Life itself is the reward, it's the lesson, it's the process, it's the spiritual growth, it's the Now. When you can, you should take as much time as you have available to enjoy it and find the things that make you feel fulfilled and go for them whenever you are able. The biggest message this whole spread has for you is to not rush your spiritual process and to sit still with that energy, but in the meanwhile take that energy to rediscover your inner child. What made you happy as a kid? Even if you never got to experience it as a child, what do you think you've always wanted as a kid that would make you feel more fulfilled? Explore those areas.

underlying card - Five of cups uprightThe underlying theme going on here is that you are also a bit sad and disappointed about how something did not turn out. You could be stuck in the past and blame yourself for the way things did not progress the way you wanted them to. However don't let this energy hold you back. Sometimes hindsight is better than foresight and that's what this process is. This card also shows that opportunities await but you have to let go of the past, rediscover what's important to you and move forward.

Just cause you had some additional general questions I pulled out my favorite Oracle deck (Wisdom of the Oracle by Colette Baron-Reid- also big faerie energy)

Lessons from your past life - By the BookThe image is a family of elephants in a line. Each trunk of the elephant previous is wrapped around the tail of the larger elephant before them. They are all connected and following the same path.

I mean it goes without saying that this is obviously something karmic from a past life and this card is repeating the message. The wisdom this card has to bring is that you do not need to reinvent the wheel. There could have been similar obstacles you were facing in your past life that you are revisiting now. With some self reflection you could gain the wisdom of how to overcome these obstacles quicker as you had to do it before. Maybe you've succeeded before in a previous life but you might not have understood the lesson fully and therefore you are repeating the process again. This card shows that if you find that wisdom or clarity you don't need to go through it all again.

Lessons to learn from your magic path - All That GlittersThis card shows a pile of gold and two masks sitting on top of the pile.

This card really wants you to ask yourself what it is that you are getting out of your magical path. In this modern day with the witchy zeitgeist it's normal that we may first think about the flashier aspects of our path such as the tools, the aesthetics, what it is giving us short term instead of long term, but this card is about seeing beyond the superficial or quick results. If all of your tools were gone would you still feel like a witch? If you felt like all of your major problems in life were resolved would you still practice witchcraft? This card is asking you to look for the reason why you are in this path and hold on to that authenticity. It's time to reconnect to the root of that essence which can also be rediscovered along with the exploration of your inner child.

Lessons to learn from your source of power - Neverending StoryThis card shows a melancholic fairy sitting on the top of an hourglass. The time is running out and there is a compass inside of the glass pointing towards the fairy's love for herself but the needle rests between 'yes' and 'no'.

Wow ok so this wraps up the tarot reading as well. This card invites you to love and forgive yourself. You might have poured in a lot of energy towards previous endevours to see them not work out or you may not believe in your power. When you want to invest energy into something whether it be a project or your magic you may tear yourself down or you may look at setbacks as evidence that you aren't good enough yet. You do have a lot of power!! And that's what this coocoon phase is all about. Rediscovering your inner child, your source of power, the root of your magical path that gives you inspiration, a sense to life and meaning and you can't discover that all if you are being mean to yourself. Besides this world is mean, like we have Trump and Boris Johnson recovering from a plague when he was just about to shut down free medical care for everyone in the UK, like you also don't need to add extra hurt to yourself when the rest of the world is full of assholes also trying to hurt us. The fact that you are trying is good enough cause there's no success without trying. Think of your path or attempts as a plant that is trying to grow. You may be thinking about the fruit in the end and frusterated that you haven't gotten the fruit yet, but you can't get the fruit without the plant. And sometimes not even plant needs to have fruit anyway (I mean we may be over encouraged in this capitalist society to bear fruit so that someone can put a price tag on it and market us for profit) but some plants are beautiful and amazing and vibrant without fruit. A plant just lives and thrives on it's own and blesses everyone else with it's oxygen and presence. It doesn't always have to bear something. Your journey can be your path to thriving and being happy and growing, you don't need to think of an end goal or beat yourself up cause you haven't achieved it yet.

Underlying Oracle Card: PEACEThis card was on the bottom of the deck's stack. I always like to read the underlying card cause it shows hidden themes or background themes. On the card there is a dove carrying that leaf doves like to carry flying over an egg with a shadow of a face on it in an open field.

This card shows that the point of these journeys is for you to find inner harmony and peace. You will find alignment within yourself and your path. Remember even though journeys can be hard and frustrating they just want to you gain wisdom and understanding.

Hope that was insightful! Sorry that it was so long! Let me know how I did and if I was off or not!

#venus of suburbia #tarot

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