#I never felt this extremely down about my own arts and why I'm drawing. he stays my comfort character to draw
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#kotallo#hfw#horizon forbidden west#horizon fanart#artists on tumblr#fanart#rough sketch#wip#art#myart#my art#illustration#Did this without thinking in 10min to vent tonight#I never felt this extremely down about my own arts and why I'm drawing. he stays my comfort character to draw#A message : I'm sowwy I will reply this weekend my lovely friend 💕 many things in my lil brain and work is also mean with me#fantasygirl974 art
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Hihi! I'm the shy sniperspy anon from yesterday. I thought of two sniperspy things! Please don't feel obligated to answer both. I have many thought and can't restrain myself.
In the event that sniper and Spy's relationship becomes public (either by their own choice or someone sees them) how would each merc react? Did any of them figure it out before it became public?
And related to the ask about sniper drawing. Does he ever draw spy? Would he ever consider showing spy his art?
oh no you’re good, I too have many thoughts all the time, my head is both empty and void, and constantly buzzing with nonstop thoughts, I also have lizard brain and must share these thoughts impulsively which is why I don’t use the queue and won’t space out my responses, I am only able to answer immediately and post
also welcome back!! feel free to stop by any time for all your sniperspy needs, I have a surplus
question 1:
they never really hid it, more hidden in plain sight
in my headcanon for them, Sniper and Spy started off loathing each other because one is a bushman who isn’t afraid to crawl around in the dirt and will be too lazy to get a fork and eat anything with his hands, and the other was the most extreme opposite but they actually became very very close friends after they got over their lil spat with each other and then eventually became lovers (detailed a bit more in these two posts)
it’s not that they really changed much, but more the fact they didn’t change anything at all
once they became friends, Sniper would always stand close to Spy because they respected and trusted each other a lot and having someone just as constantly on alert as one made the other feel safe
Sniper especially went from always standing with his back to a wall to subconsciously standing with his back towards Spy when in casual settings because in the back of his head, he knew Spy was safe and would watch it for him
Spy on the other hand would talk to Sniper about a lot in private, he was the only one Spy ever felt safe opening up to even if only just a little because he knew Sniper wouldn’t a) tell another soul, or b) see him as less than The Spy
Sniper was the first - and only - teammate Spy actually said the words “Scout is my son” to, everyone else just kinda figured it out and knew (except Scout)
if the team were to find out, it’s probably because one of them slipped up and someone happened to see them, like Spy being a little too flirty somewhere on the field, or Sniper not thinking and giving Spy’s head a kiss as he reached around him in the kitchen to start his pot of coffee, it’s not something neither Sniper nor Spy would feel was necessary to tell the team about
everyone is fucking shocked because they can’t wrap their heads around “you two of all people on the team are the ones to hook up???”
but thinking about it, no one is really that surprised after all and nothing really changes other than at the end of the night, Sniper and Spy stop leaving at different times to go to bed and just walk off together
Pyro draws them together with a big heart between the two and tapes it on Spy’s door when everyone realizes Sniper moved into Spy’s room, they wanted to show it wasn’t just Spy’s room anymore and neither of them have the heart to take it down bc they’re so proud of themself
they may do little things here and there openly (like Spy sitting on the couch in the rec room and Sniper is taking a nap with his head in his lap), but for the most part they don’t show PDA past Sniper’s touched starved self showing up and wanting to stand super close to Spy because he needs contact
question 2:
Sniper’s drawn all of his teammates at least a few times each, he’s not good at drawing people unless they’re someone he has a connection to
but Spy? oh yeah, he’s drawn Spy
from before they became friends to during their friendship and into their relationship, he’s drawn Spy a lot
even as his lover, he’d never show Spy the sketches, both because he still doesn’t see his artistic ability as anything special and because despite that the thought of Spy finding them is kinda embarrassing and he doesn’t know how he’d react
Spy would come across them on his own and would flip through everything and quickly realize how much of it is of him and he’s not sure how to feel initially
after looking through more, he finds it more and more endearing to find out just how much of Sniper’s mind he occupies, especially when he realizes for some of them, it would mean Sniper was watching his back on the field
Spy doesn’t know how to approach it and probably never does say anything until they’re moving into a home together years down the road and he sees Sniper unpacking them and brings up how he found them all those years ago then
Sniper is embarrassed but when Spy surprises him by getting him a little bookshelf to store his sketchbooks on instead of hiding them away, he actually puts them up
he catches Spy looking through them sometimes and the small smile he gets on his face when he finds new ones of himself makes him happy
he never shows Spy anything he draws, but he’s aware Spy pulls them out to look when Sniper isn’t around, and Spy is aware Sniper knows he does this (Sniper has left little notes for him to find while he’s flipping through the sketchbooks), it’s just how they go about it
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The Image (as compulsion art)
Written May 25th, 2022. Partially edited for clarity, still referential writing. Some information is outdated or incorrect.
So yeah, compulsion art… I've never been open about OC-like stuff I have since forever but it only ever really took a future epiphany for me to solve the question: Why did I make so much stuff in 2020? While I spent a long time trying to find out what motivated me through that time to produce as much as I've never done before, I thought it was just an unattainable inspiration that came from some unknown divine source, but not really.
The truth was more down to earth and negative: it was a compulsion caused by extreme stress. A lot of things happened that year, and it was difficult to cope. While half of my work was positive and from a place where I felt free to experiment and explore as an artist, at some point (around the time I started college) my art also became either destructive, or a consequence of a negative environment. That's how I formed some drawing habits, specifically about Stanley.
It's not a bad thing to draw to cool off from a rough day with a sketch, but what happened to me was a feedback loop that grew as my presence grew in general. It's not bad to get praise, but for me it fed the rumination. Note that I'm speaking from pre-incident. While the cycle of rumination could have ran on its own until I get tired, outside perception motivated me to dive deeper into that to the point of exhaustion, regardless. This is around January 2021. Numerous personal issues have shown themselves, and I was also exhausted from finishing my last semester. The exhaustion crept deep into my psyche, where slowly I notice that I am not producing as much as I did in 20. I paid it no mind, as I needed the rest.
I'm going to skim over the escalation that happened last year and instead focus on how this manifested from interest to something that was pretty much obsession. Also... this isn't the only compulsion I have. This one just makes sense to bring up right now.
The reason I'm aware of this is because of where I am now. I'm still susceptible to all that rumination, only that it actually appears as it is: a maladaptive strategy. It's only more obvious because the feelings are negative, but it was the same pattern from before: an image, and the compulsion to make that image, usually caused by an external force or trigger. While I've had a pretty good tolerance threshold for the past few days, exhaustion and other physical limits can still cause the same discomfort. Why is it just him? Does it apply to Irene? In the end, you can't justify why a compulsion is a compulsion. He was repetitively drawn to the point where the image was everywhere, which had no end in sight. Two years later, it's still pretty much there. I just don't have the time to do it.
While I can't justify why I did all this, I can say that it wasn't done out of trying to fix the character or to make him perfect. It was simply a pattern that needed to occur. It was simply something that had to keep existing, and over time, so many angles, faces, emotions of this same image have been produced by me. There was never an end goal of being recognized or anything. That's also why I was unfazed about "losing" credit or credibility.
With regards to him turning into an icon of consumption, yes, some of it had shown up in my rumination. However, my perspective is completely different from the critique of capitalism the new stuff is pulling off, the concept of making a thing better over and over and over. Mine was simply powered by mostly by an illness and virtually just one month of pay for me. My story is still oddly personal. I'm not the person who can afford to do nerd capitalism and buy collector's items and other commodities. I am still behind the scenes and beneath the outer greater narrative of most of it. Sure, maybe we can talk about distribution of global workers, but that's another discussion for another time that doesn't faze me and is mostly irrelevant.
Conclusion: No, I still have no idea how to rid of this, especially since the wound is still open. My only hope is focusing on how I react to bullshit right now. Nevertheless, I probably won't let it consume me more than it already did. No, Irene is a more complicated case, and I made him. He's not an image forced into my mind.
Tangent: how do you balance your interest in a way that doesn't harm you? While you can't prevent being [psychologically] obsessed about an intrusive thought, usually I just do mindfulness over my actions. If I let it be, it's also just me STILL trying to process that entire shebang. If an obsession disrupts your everyday routine/life, has been present for a long amount of time (think above a few weeks), and tends to be your distraction from a stressful environment, PLEASE step back and try to see if you need mental help... Or, just some people to help check on your well-being.
End of text
Late note: I don't want people just thinking that the image is just a compulsion. It's more complicated than that. It just started that way.
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🌿✨🎀🎀 (that's right TWO compliments, and here's one from me too bc you deserve them all: i love the way your fics feel like they take place in a universe full of life and detail even around the main characters or events. even the shorter ones still feel like you have a detailed picture of who the characters are and what parts of them you want to portray or focus on, and it makes reading that much smoother and more immersive!)
OH MY GODDDD BEANIE YOU'RE THE SWEETEST. Genuinely teared up over here... I get so happy whenever I get any kind of message notif but AGH??? SO DETAILED? CRYING.
(Fic writer asks here!)
🌿how does creating make you feel?
Ahhh this is a big question! I like creating! But it can certainly be daunting sometimes... I think it's because I mostly do art. I find myself enjoying it less these days since I'm usually drawing for others in return for money. I keep taking commissions because I need money but it does take the joy out of creating sometimes. But whenever I do get to sit down and draw something I really enjoy, it's cathartic. It reminds me of why I still draw - it's that amazing gift I have to be able to make anything I want with my hands. And it fuels me with passion! I get really excited to see what else I can make! I have my ruts here and there but ultimately, I see creativity as a beautiful outlet and I'm really grateful for it. This all applies to writing too, of course!
✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)
ueihfjidsjgdsi I'm tempted to list one of my wips BECAUSE I DO NOT POST ENOUGH HELP DSDSFIJGD
If I had to pick, probably my John Watson x Reader Soulmate AU fic "A Silent Fate"! I thought it was a flop so I never had the motivation to finish it, but it's still one of my favorite ideas.
It uses the soulmate AU where everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them written on their arm. The twist is that the reader is mute! John Watson goes about his life, assuming that he simply doesn't have a soulmate - that theory further hardened after meeting Sherlock Holmes, a man who breaks all conventionality and rejects conformity. Then one day, the reader and John cross paths and the reader has to get creative with how they "talk" with John.
I really really love this idea because I'm all about "thinking outside of the box" and challenging myself with something uncommon. I don't think I see many mute!reader fics let alone mixed with the soulmate au so I wanted to give it a shot! I have the whole story drafted out... it's just unfortunate because I haven't felt the same way about the BBC Sherlock characters in a while ahaha
🎀🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing
GAAHHH TWO!!! hmmm hmmmh mmm
✦ I like that my fics are long! It's something I get self-conscious of sometimes but I think it really shows how passionate I am about a fic when I can't stop writing. Because I really love adding all those little details and getting into the worldbuilding - it's my favorite part (the setup)!! I love the feeling of reading a good story that feels like it comes to life around me with characters who feel like real people. That's what I hope to achieve in my writing
✦ Another thing I like about my writing is ummm umumummum I like the way I write dialogue! Coming back to "making characters feel like real people", I LOVE writing extremely awkward pauses and fumbles in written dialogue (Explains why I love writing Reigen so much). Adding those "Um... erm... well-" and "AhaHAH-" just adds flavor and I'm way too obsessed with it
THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS AHHHH THIS WAS SO FUN!! ILYSM BEANIE 💗💗💗
#SOBBBIIINGNNNGN#I LOVED THIS SM#you're the sweetest ever....#seriously just made my night#buttery answers#writer asks#bittybeanie
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The Matter of Red's Starter Pokémon
So, I've mentioned a couple times on here that I have a pretty big Pokémon WIP that's been sitting on the backburner for a while, and that I'd like to talk about it here to get some feedback/thoughts from other Pokémon fans, especially since I can rather easily think myself into a corner when all I have are my own thoughts and the internet. And I figure what better place to start than with a topic very near and dear to my heart: Starter Pokémon
(VERY big post, reader beware)
To start, let me just elaborate on what this project is. Because moderation is for the sensible, I have planned out my own complete retelling of the Pokémon story. The full timeline, across multiple regions, with a rotating cast of protagonists, Pokémon Adventures style, drawing on elements of the games, the anime, the aforementioned manga, promotional art, and various other pieces of Pokémon media to create a united whole. The Pokémon multiverse is so ridiculously vast and undefined that there really is no strict "canon" of events, so I figured why not make my own? "This will be my own version of things," I thought. "Maybe I'll even write it down someday and put it somewhere online for people to shower it with praise or laugh at it or do whatever it is people do."
So, one of the first big things to take care of in such an endeavour was to decide on teams for all of the protagonists, since most of them do not have defined teams. And so I did just that, using their appearances across various media to construct teams for them, as well as taking into account some popular fandom opinion and my own ideas for some originality. The point of building the teams this way instead of just picking and choosing whichever 'mons I felt like for them is to make them feel more authentic, like you could look at them and recognize them as legitimate versions of the Trainers they're based on, and in turn see my versions of those characters in the pieces of art, animation, etc. that they draw on. I attempted to avoid clashing with any established portrayals/teams of the characters whenever possible, unless I had a very good reason for it.
And of course, what kind of creator would I be if I didn't constantly go back and fiddle with those teams? I review them fairly regularly, often making little changes. Sometimes I make them better, sometimes not. And the one thing I seem to stumble over more than anything else is which characters get which Starter Pokémon.
For some characters, it's easy. Whether they've only ever been associated with one, or something about their appearance just screams that they belong with one of their region's three in particular, there's a clear, standout pick. For others...not so much. Maybe they've never been strongly associated with one Starter over the others, or maybe, like in the case I will be discussing today, there's a solid case to be made in favour of two or more.
And first on the list of Starter-problem-children, is the first main character, the mainest of the main protagonists, Red.
This shrimp here. At the beginning of his journey, he is presented with a choice between three Pokémon: The Grass-type Bulbasaur, the Fire-type Charmander, and the Water-type Squirtle.
And this is what I'd like some feedback on, because I'm not sure whether to give him Charmander or Bulbasaur. There's a very good case to be made for both of them, which I have outlined below. There really isn't a "right" or "wrong" choice here, I guess, but I want to be sure that I choose what's best for the story and not just whatever my personal biases direct me towards.
(Sorry Squirtle fans, the Tiny Turtle never stood a chance. You will taste no victory here, but the Squirtle Squad will live on, forever. Godspeed.)
Some General Info before getting started
As I said above, I am a pretty big fan of Starter Pokémon, so their role(s) in this story of mine will be pretty important. In line with the game-verse(s) Starter Pokémon will be extremely rare and special. If I had my way, only one of each would appear in the story ever, but given a handful of important NPCs with Starters, I can’t quite get away with that. Eventually trying to write Leon without a Charizard is a headache I don’t need to have. That said, I can still limit Starter distribution as much as possible, and I definitely won’t repeat Starters among the protagonists, so that means we’re looking at 3 Starters in Kanto, no more, no less. So while there will be occasions in which Red has all three Kanto Starters, it will be because he borrowed them from Blue and Green. Most of the time, they will have one Starter each.
While just having Red start with Pikachu would be quick and easy, I'd rather not take that route because I feel like the choice of Grass, Fire, or Water is too iconic to skip.
Disclaimer: I am using Blue and Green’s western names, making Blue the rival and Green the girl. I am doing this because I happen to live in the west and so those names are the ones by which I best know them, and because I happen to think they suit them better.
Also, yeah, Green’s here and has a role in the plot because she’s fun and I say so. I will also be treating Green and Leaf as the same character because I really see no reason not to.
The Case for Charizard
The three Kanto protags have their namesake game mascots as their aces, and that’s just some nice consistency. Aesthetically pleasing too. (Especially relevant as Red is the only version to stay constant. Blue and Green have fluctuated in name/release but a Red Version with a Charizard on the cover has always been there.)
Aligns with the following media:
One piece of early promotional artwork depicting Red and Charmander.
Pokémon Origins.
The Pokémon Anime (Ash counts as a counterpart of Red, and while his first Pokémon is Pikachu, and he catches all three Kanto Starters, Charmander stands out by being the only one to evolve, and Ash’s Charizard is easily one of his most famous ‘mons. Also lines up with Gary, a counterpart of Blue, having Blastoise as his Starter Pokémon)
By extension, the Electric Tale of Pikachu manga, which is based on the anime but diverges from it substantially. Doesn’t really deserve its own point, but definitely a mention. Again, Ash starts with Pikachu, obtains Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle, and only evolves Charmander, ending up with a Charizard.
Pokémon Zensho (With Satoshi as a counterpart of Red) (Very obscure, but still counts)
Super Smash Bros (Dubious, but again, “Pokémon Trainer,” [who really is just Red] has all three Kanto Starters, but all in different forms, with only Charizard being fully evolved)
Pokémon Generations, Episode 3: The Challenger (Blue has a Blastoise, implying this episode’s Red has a Charizard)
ArtFX-J figure depicting Red with Charmander.
Pokémon Masters.
The final episode of Pokémon Evolutions.
I have a pretty solid story idea I could use for having Red start with Charmander, and eventually wind up with Charizard as his ace, but still spend a lot of time early on with the Bulbasaur line. Put very simply, after a scuffle with Team Rocket for which Red, Blue, and Green are present, the protags’ Starters get mixed up, which they don’t realize until they’ve already gone their separate ways. Red gets Green’s Bulbasaur, she gets Blue’s Squirtle, and Blue has Red’s Charmander. They’d remain this way until fairly late in the RBG story, probably until somewhere around the 8th Gym, at which point the three would finally have the opportunity and the understanding of each other to make the switch back. This storyline has a number of side benefits, including:
Charizard becomes a centerpiece in Red and Blue’s rivalry. Having been trained by both of them, emotions run high and battles between the two of them have an extra layer of depth and intensity.
Allows for early exploration of the Trainer/Starter bond and dynamic, particularly with what happens when a Trainer is paired with the “wrong” Starter. Since Starters are pretty pivotal for my story, I’ve added a few extra layers to them, including a greater need for synchronicity with their Trainers than pretty much any other kind of Pokémon. A Starter Pokémon can work with anyone, but unless it’s paired with a Trainer it can be in perfect sync with, it will not grow like it should. Notably, a Starter Pokémon will not evolve unless it’s with a Trainer that can really bring out its true strength. In the case of the Kanto trio, this means that each Trainer will be temporarily reunited with their original Starter in certain climactic moments, in which the Starters will evolve, before going back to their pro tem Trainers until the final swap-back occurs, which ensures that the bonds between the original pairings stay strong and aren’t completely erased or replaced by the new, temporary pairings.
Sets up a precedent for the Kanto protags being willing to swap around their Pokémon on occasion, which could be a fun little dynamic for them to have, and lays the base for times when Red has all three Starters, having borrowed them from the others or temporarily traded for them.
Admittedly runs three major risks, those being:
The initial mix up may prove to be difficult to pull off without it seeming contrived, forced, or just plain weird. Doable, but weird.
The swap back could be even worse to pull off well, because after spending so long with the new status quo, it may throw off hypothetical readers, or seem like a step backwards. There’d always be this little nagging desire to go back. Plus it could just come off as cold. Like “Thanks, you were great, but you’re outta here now that I have my real partner back.” And that’s really not the point, especially when I am trying to pay respect to the Red and Bulbasaur pairing, not downplay it or shit on it.
Since the swap is ultimately temporary, it may wind up feeling kind of…pointless? in the end. Like yeah, it has some lasting effects, but is it too big a stunt to pull for extra, mostly invisible depth? A gimmick more than a plot point? I honestly don’t know.
I think the personalities of the protags match those of their Starters best in this arrangement.
We know from various Pokédex entries that Charizard are competitive Pokémon that deliberately seek out strong opponents in order to test their own power and grow stronger themselves, but that they go easy on opponents they deem clearly weaker than themselves, presumably so as not to hurt them. And as for Red, aside from his trademark silence, the personality traits we can infer from his actions are that he loves Pokémon and despises anyone who mistreats them, is highly competitive, and is exceptionally determined to accomplish his goals. Competitive spirit, pursuit of strength, and a sense of honour and care for others. That sounds like a Charizard to me, not to mention the symbolism of sprouting wings and rising in a blaze of glory and all. Charizard is a pretty prototypical “Hero’s Pokémon,” and Red is a pretty typical Hero Archetype. They fit well together in that sense.
Meanwhile, Blastoise constantly has a smug expression on its face. It’s cocky, turning its snout upwards to look down on others, matching Blue’s initial attitude. It’s progression from Squirtle fits Blue as well; it starts out laid-back and fun-loving, secure in its own strength just as Blue is confident in his skills, but as it evolves, it grows more aggressive and ferocious, to the point that it sprouts actual cannons, mirroring the more direct and brutal battling style Blue takes on as he grows more and more nervous about Red nipping at his heels. Also, Blue wears sunglasses in Alola, and sunglasses are famously linked to the Blastoise line via the Squirtle Squad. That’s a pretty important connection.
The there’s Venusaur, who's calm and gentle, but also the trickiest in battle, relying on status conditions and recovery in battle more than the direct offense of the other two, which is reflective of Green's mischievous nature. She's content to let the boys squabble over the Champion title while she does her own thing, occasionally dropping in to mess with them.
On a related note, Red having Charmander as his Starter also feeds into his early underdog persona. Charmander is well-known to be the hardest Starter to use in the early game of Kanto, since it struggles against both Brock and Misty, and doesn’t have an actual advantage until Erika. Meanwhile, Blue would have Squirtle, the ideal choice for a Kanto speedrun, which is exactly what he’s trying to pull off. Red managing to succeed against all odds and stay only a few steps behind Blue would only feed further into the idea of Blue growing steadily more nervous. Whereas if Red starts with Bulbasaur, then he has the best possible Pokémon for early Kanto and can breeze through it unchallenged while Blue would have a Charmander and should thus struggle with the early Gyms instead of blasting through them like he canonically does. Red seems less like a battling prodigy in that case and more like a guy who just got dealt a really good hand.
This also plays into Red’s conflict with Giovanni. Red has an advantage against Ground-types with both Charizard and Venusaur, but more so with the latter. Venusaur dominates virtually the entirety of Giovanni’s team, whereas Charizard, while immune to Ground attacks, struggles to hit back, and it’s severe weakness to Giovanni’s ace Rhydon’s Rock-type is a major detriment, making the Rocket Boss a real obstacle for Red to overcome instead of someone he should sweep through via type advantage alone.
Charizard and Blastoise have a well-established rivalry across multiple media, most notably things like the anime and Origins. I can take advantage of that rivalry and have the two of them parallel their Trainers, making the famed Charizard vs. Blastoise battle(s) that much more intense by making it not just a contest between Red and Blue, but also between their two rival aces. Think Ash’s Infernape vs. Paul’s Electivire. That kind of multi-layered competition. Meanwhile I just don’t see Venusaur as the rivalsome type.
Having Charizard as the main Pokémon of the mainest of main characters allows me to explore several fun plot elements I otherwise would have to cut entirely or just severely downplay. Those things include stuff like the existence and importance of Johto’s Charicific Valley, which takes on an entirely different form in this story, Leon being a Red fanboy and styling himself after his idol with the same main Pokémon and taste in hats, and the entire existence of Mega Charizard X. The very first time Mega Charizard X was revealed to the general public was in the last episode of Pokémon Origins, under the ownership of Red. It was his Pokémon before it was anyone else’s, and thus is deeply tied to him. If Red didn’t have Charizard, I couldn’t really explore that connection or the significance of this second Mega. At best I could give it to some other Charizard-having Trainer, but I’d really prefer not to have one of those in the first place if it can be avoided, and even if I did go for it, say I gave it to Lance or something, it wouldn’t carry the same weight. I’d be sweeping Mega Charizard X under the rug rather than exploring it to its fullest potential as a unique, signature Pokémon.
The Case for Venusaur
The Kanto protags do not have their game mascots, but there is still a pattern: Red-Grass, Blue-Fire, Green-Water. Each one has the type their name-type is strong against.
Aligns with the following media:
Various pieces of old promotional art
The above image where Red, Blue, and Green are facing off against each other with Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle, respectively.
An image depicting Red and Bulbasaur vs. Blue and Charmander.
An image depicting Red using an Ivysaur to battle a Lass and her Pikachu.
An image in which Red, riding a Pidgeot (odd, since Pidgeot is typically associated with Blue) pursued by Blue riding a Charizard, implying that Red has a Venusaur.
Pokémon Adventures.
The Pocket Monsters manga (The one where Red’s Starter is that awful Clefairy. He also has a Venusaur in there, and Blue’s counterpart has a Charizard for a Starter, so that’s a thing)
Pokémon Let’s Go Pikachu/Eevee.
Also the card based on Red’s appearance in that game that depicts him alongside a Bulbasaur. I don’t think this one deserves to be a full point, because it’s directly based on Let’s Go and not its own separate thing, but it warrants a mention.
Pokémon Generations Episode 1: The Adventure (Generations is pretty overtly set across multiple timelines, what with Team Aqua and Team Magma both being portrayed as the more prominent Hoenn evil team in different episodes and a few other instances of timeline shenaniganery. In this case, while Episode 3 implies Red has a Charizard, Episode 1 clearly shows him alongside a Bulbasaur)
While Venusaur is the best choice in-game, for us it’s the underdog. It’s the one with the reputation as the one that gets left on Professor Oak’s table. Having Red start with the oft-overlooked Bulbasaur sets him apart from the crowd in the readers’ eyes, especially when he is able to succeed with it. Charizard vs. Blastoise may look a bit more epic, but defeating a Charizard with a Venusaur is far more impressive. A fire dragon and a cannon turtle seem relatively evenly matched, as odd of a sentence as that is, but the flower frog seems at a clear disadvantage against the flying fire dragon.
Plus, Charizard gets more than enough hype and pandering already, and seeing Venusaur in the spotlight for a change could be refreshing. And I feel it’s likely that my style of deep-dive, lore-heavy writing may appeal more to the Venusaur crowd anyway.
And more specifically, the story of “A Trainer and his Charizard” has already been told numerous times, my version would just be another one in the pile. Whereas “A Trainer and his Venusaur” is something you can’t go find just anywhere.
While I don’t think the connections are as strong, there are still links to be made between the Starters and their Trainers in this configuration. Red’s typically subdued persona fits well with Venusaur’s more calm demeanor, and his competitive spirit is reflected in its sheer stubbornness. Blue’s arrogance and fierce battle tactics pair nicely with Charizard’s own pride and fearsome nature, and the two could share and arc about mellowing out and learning to have confidence without an excess of hubris. And Blastoise’s haughtiness could be shifted away from overconfidence in its battle prowess to something more tricksy, like Green’s confidence in her ability to deceive and/or beguile virtually anyone.
My thoughts here are that Red and Venusaur work really well together, both visually and in terms of compatibility, Green and Blastoise are a bit of a stretch in the personality department, but they’ve been so closely associated with each other over the years that it can be made to work pretty well, and then that things just fall apart with Blue and Charizard. I just can’t see these two together, it doesn’t look right to me. There’s plenty of support for the pairing, but it’s one I struggle to wrap my head around. And like I said, Charizard is a Hero’s Pokémon, so relegating it to the rival role feels real heckin’ weird. I have no doubt I could make it work, but it would always feel off on some level.
I don’t have a complex side story like the Starter Swap planned out if I go with Venusaur, which could ultimately be a pro or a con. Con because it’s cutting out an idea that I think would genuinely be fun and interesting to explore, especially given the overall themes and role of Starters in this project, but a pro in the sense that it keeps things simple, and Kanto thrives on simplicity. And there are still some other things I could explore, like the anime’s secret garden of the Bulbasaur.
Putting Red and Venusaur together would mean a pairing of a male player character with a Grass Starter, which is something that is extremely rare in my planned teams for the other regions. Not out of any bias, I just don’t associate many male player characters with their regions Grass Starters; I think the Fire or Water ones almost always suit them better. So it would be nice to have another instance of it with Red to balance things out better.
Venusaur is easily the most competitively viable of the Kanto Starters before Mega Evolving, which would allow me to incorporate more legit battling strategies straight out of the games into Red’s battles, making his wins based in actual, usable strategy as opposed to the more anime-style tactics I’d be more likely to employ with Charizard as his ace.
Then again, anime tactics are often really creative and fun and I would be using them anyway because that kind of outside the box thinking is what would make someone a truly exceptional battler.
And there you have it. The thoughts that plague my dreams. I suppose it's only right to mention here that I myself am a Charizard man. I'm sure this was not obvious at all.
Jokes aside, because of my preference, I feel inclined towards putting Red and Charizard together in the long run, but like I said earlier, I want to make this choice based on what is right for the story; what would be the most interesting, compelling, and thematically appropriate; not just what I'm biased towards, and I really do want to give the Bulbasaur line the chance to shine that it deserves.
So I'd really like to hear what y'all think. Preferred outcome, sure, but also just go nuts. Add more to consider into this hurricane of overthought, deconstruct my points and point out mistakes, tell me my brain is pretty but I'm taking this way too seriously, whatever.
And feel free to ask questions and inquire about further details. Plot elements, team compositions, anything you feel will help solidify (or at least elucidate) your thoughts on the matter.
(Artwork by pon_yui)
I'm not really looking to have this decision made for me, choosing one or the other and running with it is easy. What I really want to accomplish here is soothe those nagging doubts that I've made the wrong choice, that going the other way would have been the better decision for the story. At the end of the day, the choice is mine, and I could make either one work, but I want to do right by myself, my potential readers, and this series that's been such a big part of my life. So I guess the question really comes down to this:
Which story would you like to read more?
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Alone In A Crowd
3
"Do you want some Skittles?", I asked Izzy right after opening the bag of sweets. "Sure", he smiled at me and extended his open hand.
We had started walking up the avenue with no destination in particular. Turned out that neither of us had anything to do on this cool summer night, but we kept on talking and it felt natural. He told me more about himself and I learned that he wasn't originally from Los Angeles, but from Lafayette, Indiana, of all places. He had moved on his own when he turned 18, four years ago. I would had never imagined it since he looked like an embodiment of the city and all its seedy places. But there was still something in him that seemed foreign to me, and that was his subtle Midwestern accent. It should had immediately given him away, but it didn't. Or perhaps I was just extremely distracted tonight.
On the other hand, I was born and raised here. I knew the city like the palm of my hand and it had been my playground for as long as I could remember. I also told him I had a part-time job in the antique shop next to the Chinese restaurant down the block, and that in the mornings I attended to UCLA. I was in the middle of my undergrad art program, but all I knew about the life as an artist in the making was that I was constantly juggling between what I thought was my passion and trying to make ends meet. That and that I couldn't remember the last time I saw the floor of my tiny apartment since it was mostly covered by papers and discarded drawings.
"I don't know, man. Most people would say that the core of the Stones' sound are Jagger and Richards. And I do love Keef, but what about Bill or Charlie? Why do everyone always overlook them? The Stones have some great bass lines, especially in the late 70s. That rhythm section is one of a kind, I think", I threw my two cents on the heated conversation we were having on the Rolling Stones. "No, exactly! And what about Mick Taylor, y'know? Or Ronnie!, he replied and I nodded enthusiastically. I let him continue. "Ronnie fucking Wood brought all that energy from The Faces and his vibe it's great!".
It also turned out that Izzy was something like a mega fan of the British band and cherished the ground Keith walked on. I should had also figured that from his looks, but at this moment he struck more like a Johnny Thunders than a Keith Richards to me. It must had been because he was sporting white creepers shoes and an oversized black leather jacket. More punk rock than gypsy, but nonetheless extremely cool and it suited him just fine.
Somewhere in our conversation about every single piece of music by the Stones from the last two decades, I must had lost track of where we were heading but we ended up in Santa Monica Boulevard, right in front of the Hollywood Memorial Park.
"Holy shit, they're screening the Texas Chain Saw Massacre! Have you seen it?", I asked him. "Yeah, who hasn't?", he stated as matter of fact. "Well, I haven't?", I looked at him and it was obvious he was trying not to laugh at me. "What- why? Wait, how old are you again? I could watch it if you want to, but are you sure you're old enough?", he had a shit eating grin and he was holding onto my shoulders. "I'm 21, you idiot. I just told you!", I pretended to be offended but I had a big smile on my face. "I'm fucking with you, but I wanted to be sure. What if you get scared and shit?", he continued joking. "I'm not gonna get scared, for fuck's sake. C'mon!", I grabbed one of his hands and led him into the cemetery to find a good spot on the grass for us to sit.
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Vulnerable [chapt. 1/2]
[2012 Leo x reader]
Based off of a request from an Anon: "A reader who is good at archery?" and the art is in fact mine, signature in the corner.
Leonardo grimaced as he walked. On his bad leg he still limped a bit, but he no longer was so dependent on his crutches. Every step was a twinge of pain in his knee, but he continued, bow in hand and looking for prey. The rest of the team was back at the farmhouse—he wanted to do this alone. He needed to do something. For himself and everyone else.
He crept along the forest floor, senses hyper-aware of all of the things around him, as with his injured leg, he felt vulnerable. He jumped when a bird shot out of a tree nearby with another one hot on its tail feathers. When had he become so easy to start? Of course, as a ninja, he was trained to be skeptical. Aware. But he'd never felt so jumpy as he did after coming out of his coma, his throat wrecked and his knee in just as bad a condition. He took in a deep breath, then released it. Focus.
He definitely felt like he was being watched. He was in a sea of trees and bush, wandering and out of his element, having come from the city. It was such a jarring change to have been struck down in a construction site on that frightening day, only to wake up three months later in a quaint farmhouse outside of New York City. His stomach churned slightly recalling what he could remember from his encounter with the Shredder and the wave after wave of Foot Bots. The cold rain, and their mortal enemy's imposing figure stood above him before going in for the kill. He shook himself of those thoughts—not now. Today was sunny. He had to look around him for a second as if to assure that there was light shrouding everything. That there were no shadows to hide in. Shifting his footing, his knee suddenly jerked forward and sent a shot up pain up his leg. He had to resist making noise, but in that moment, a shudder ran down his spine. The sheer pain, he remembered, of the Shredder's blades catching his neck. The trauma to his knee. He didn't know when he'd started breathing heavily, still and partially leaning on his bow. When would he ever be able to recall that day without it shaking him so deeply? Would the memories hit him during his next and inevitable meeting with Shredder?
But he couldn't think about that now, not as he heard rustling in the brush ahead of him. He stilled. Crouching, he took to the large trunk of an oak and hid behind it, peering around the corner to catch a glimpse of what he was hearing. It sounded big; likely a deer. As long as he didn't engage with a buck and his fearsome rack of antlers, he would be okay. His knee ached as he kneeled there. No sudden movements, he reminded himself.
He looked around the side of the tree and saw it. A tall, proud buck and his air of regality, eating from a plant and seemingly unaware of Leo's presence. This was his chance to make himself useful. To stick it to his cursed leg that he wouldn't let it stop him.
Rising as slowly and quietly as he could, he lifted his bow and drew an arrow. He had to find the perfect moment. But he also couldn't wait too long, otherwise he would lose the animal. The buck paused his meal and looked up, smelling the air. He ducked back behind the tree when it actually turned its head toward him, almost as if in acknowledgement. But deer's eyes didn't face forwards—if it were looking for a threat, it would have turned its head. Ignoring that detail, Leo knew it would get his scent quickly, so there was not much time to waste as he aimed, shooting for something vital. The buck stiffened, readying to bound off. He was just about to let loose the arrow when he blinked, and suddenly, there was nothing. The buck was gone, the clearing was empty, and he was extremely confused. He stood up, letting down his bow as he stepped out from behind the tree and looked around him. It had been there one moment, gone the next.
He jolted when a twig snapped behind him. He spun around, arrow ready to fire. Standing only but a few feet away was the large creature looking down at him, and in his surprise, Leo hesitated. He wasn't sure what to do beside lower his weapon, eyes fixated on the impressive antlers the buck donned. Those could deliver a fierce blow.
He was backing away, opting to ditch the effort and try again another time, because the animal was certainly strong. And not with his bad leg could he defend himself as much as he would have liked—but unnaturally fast, the buck charged forward anyway. Heart pumping, Leo gasped and drew his arrow, trying to get a clear shot on the animal as it vanished around him, disappearing behind trees, reappearing elsewhere, running at him from every which way. He let out a loud grunt when he was struck in the abdomen by it, disoriented and trying to gain his footing. He tried to dodge the oncoming attack, but his knee buckled, and he fell to the ground against the mossy trunk of a massive tree. His bow was dropped elsewhere. In a last resort, he swiped his knife from his belt, eyes flitting about. He expected another blow from the strange animal, but nothing came. He was left in shock sitting there as he regained his composure, only noticing the buck out of the corner of his eye one last time.
He watched it, brow ridge furrowed intensely as he got up and snatched his bow from the ground. The buck only stared back, his reaching presence making an imprint in Leo's mind. He knew then that there was something else to this. He had no idea, not even a clue, of where to start with it. But the creature sauntered further into the trees, disappearing into the thicket.
"What was that?" he muttered to himself, unable to look away from where he'd last seen it.
He returned to the farmhouse later that night, meeting you at the front porch when he dragged himself up there. His knee was irritated to all hell from the exertion, and you could tell, too; he favored his good leg when he stepped, wincing as he came over. It was then that you noticed he looked a little more rough than you'd originally thought.
"Leo?" you said, meeting him at the stairs. He tried to give you a smile, but it was obvious he was absolutely beat, his leg was hurting, and overall, not in a good way. "Are you okay? What happened out there?"
You helped him up the steps with an arm around him, supporting his heavy weight as he made his way into the house. He groaned, a little shameful, "I got attacked by a...deer."
He left his bow and quiver at the door. A deer? You gave him a questioning look, and he continued, "Yeah, a deer. Like with the antlers. It came at me when it realized I was there. I've never seen something move so fast."
You were going to help him to the couch, but he shrugged your arm off with a sheepish smile, getting there himself. You sat down next to him. "So, an angry buck?" you asked. He nodded. "Weird...it's not mating season. Usually, they aren't so aggressive."
"Well, this one was," he said, "and I know this is going to sound weird, but…"
He knew it would be hard to explain why he suspected this was something otherworldly, due to the teleporting. He'd seen it clearly with his own two eyes. Still, it was just as confusing to him to think about as it would have been for you to hear.
"Wait, how do you know that?" he inquired. He looked over at you, blue eyes falling on yours.
You chuckled, "My dad was into hunting, so I picked up some stuff as a kid. You learn that pretty early on; the antlers on those things can really tear you up. Though...you're lucky for having natural armor." Gesturing toward his bow and arrow, you bumped his shoulder with your own. "I'd say I'm good with one of those."
Leo quirked his brow, curious for you to go on. He didn't doubt your statement one bit; he'd seen how you watched him practice, how sometimes, he'd catch you idly running your hand along the curves of the bow. "How good would you say you are?"
Grinning, you padded across the room and got his bow, drawing back the string experimentally. It had been a while. You threw a glance back at him over your shoulder. "Fairly," you replied, setting it down. "I think my parents started me out when I was twelve or so. With one of those kiddie bows, the ones that are easy to pull back? I'm no master, but maybe...I could come out and help you next time? I don't think any of us should be going out alone, anyway, especially you with your…"
He noticed your eyes had fallen on his injured leg.
"Uh, hold on. I'm not an invalid, [y/n]."
He didn't want to be snappish, but the last part irked him a little. He could handle himself out there. How well he could was a different story, but nonetheless, he felt weirdly infantile hearing that. It should have been him telling you that and offering to help, not the other way around.
Damn his leg.
Still, he knew he had to swallow his pride, for now. He really was in no shape to be wandering the woods on his own. He also noticed that it was a great opportunity to bond with you more without everyone around to overanalyze it.
"You know, I...I appreciate it. I know you're just trying to help." He tried to hide the disappointment he was feeling with himself, but it was easily replaced by more positive prospects. He hadn't ever spent that much time with you alone, as they were always going, going, going. The farmhouse and surrounding woods was a slow change of pace—a good change of pace. But even then, he still couldn't always get away from everyone else, especially Mikey and Casey. "What do you say we go out tomorrow?"
You nodded, "I say it's a date!"
"Y–yeah," He laughed, looking down at the floor. "It's a...yeah. I'm going to go to bed now. Goodnight, [y/n]."
"Night," you said as he headed up the stairs.
Mind on the kitchen for a drink before you went to bed yourself, you were slightly surprised to see April there, leaning against the counter with a curious smile on her face. "Oh, hey, April," you mumbled, reaching past her for a glass.
"Hey," she cooed, "so, a date, huh?" A knowing grin crossed her face, along with that twinkle in her eye she got any time something like this came up.
Face beginning to flush, you chuckled awkwardly as you filled up your glass from the tap. "Uh, it's more like a...it's not really a date. I just said that. For some reason. We're gonna go out into the woods and scope it out for a little bit." You glanced out of the corner of your eye and saw her sat at the kitchen table, patting the chair next to her. A date? Like that? No. In fact, he was likely offended to some degree that you even proposed helping him out. Not with how sensitive he was about his knee, lately, which was a hindrance to him. But you wanted to help, that's what friends were for. And maybe spending some time away from the antics of his brothers and Casey wasn't such a bad idea, either…
You were going to slip out of the kitchen, but April was set on getting the details. "Come on, girl talk!" she said, low enough so no one else would hear, but you could hear the excitement in her voice. "Did he get embarrassed? Oh, what about bringing lunch? Like a picnic, in the woods," she suggested, clasping her hands. "Quiet, away from you-know-who. It would be nice!"
"Okay, okay, slow down there," you said. You took a seat next to her and looked behind you into the living room to make sure there wasn't anyone there, then added, "You see, I don't know for sure…"
...if Leo felt the same way. There was a hunch, but that wouldn't do—you couldn't go off of a mere inkling, lest you ruin good friendship turning things weird. You liked him. How obvious it was, you didn't know, but you never tried to show it on purpose.
April noticed the uncertainty of your expression and put her hand on yours in your lap. She could feel your hesitance over the subject. "You're worried that he doesn't feel the same way about you," she stated softly. "Is that it?"
"In short," you answered with a small shrug as you kept your gaze on the edge of the table.
She tilted her head in thought, humming to herself. "Well, I think you should go for it, if that's how you feel."
Looking up at her, you inquired, "What if it makes things awkward between us?" That was the last thing you wanted.
"I think Leo might have a crush on you," she said finally. "Of course, I can't tell you definitely, but...it's just the vibe he gives me."
Your heart fluttered. April's intuition had always seemed pretty on point; you trusted her judgement more often than not. The question was, did you have the guts to come out with it to him, or would it be another time gone past? Hung up on her words, you blinked. "Do you think so?" you asked honestly.
She nodded and gave a reassuring smile. "I won't pressure you, but I still think you'll have a great time. I can put together a basket, if you want. We don't have much besides sandwiches, though." April was considerate. It was easy to feel comfortable around her; she was a gentle soul outside of combat, and supportive of yours and everyone else's pursuits (so long as they weren't harmful.) Especially pursuits of love, when they weren't directed at herself.
You thanked her as you got up, to which she replied that it was no problem. Leo's door was cracked slightly open, you'd found out when you passed by, and inside he was fast asleep. he tended to leave it ajar out of habit; he felt that he needed to be able to hear what was going on in the rest of the house in case something happened, paranoid of ambushes. The only time he wasn't conscious of his bad leg was when he was unconscious, and even then, you had a suspicion that he dreamed about it sometimes. Maybe even had nightmares. You recalled seeing him toss and turn one night while muttering incoherent things after he'd fallen asleep on the couch in the lounge, almost rolling off the side before you decided to wake him. Both the mental and physical wound was fresh at that time, so he panicked himself awake feeling your hand lightly shake his shoulder. He apologized as you tried to help him, instead taking his crutches and left by himself.
But Leo seemed to be having good dreams, tonight. You stopped just for a moment to watch him through the ajar door, seeing that his face was not tense, he wasn't moving around, and looked to be more at peace than he had in a while. That was all you needed to know.
"He looks pretty calm right now," a voice, Raph's, commented out from the blue next to you. He was leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he watched his sleeping brother. "Last few nights were rough. Wonder what has him all peaceful all of a sudden."
You couldn't mistake Raph's unusually soft disposition, even if he talked as gruffly as always. "Does he have bad dreams about it often?" you questioned him. Both of you knew what you were talking about, the event in New York City that landed them all at the farmhouse to begin with.
Sighing, he answered with a light scoff, "More like nightmares." For a second, you thought he was annoyed by you asking, but he continued, shaking his head. "This just…I can't stand seein' him like this. Not like this, this, but on those nights he gets nightmares, and the hobbling around…"
"It really sucks."
"Big time."
A silence fell between the two of you, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You both bonding over your mutual care for Leo and his well-being, brought together by circumstance. Raph went to bed. You did, too, thinking all the way that Leo deserved a good day. A normal-as-could-be day.
You'd take April up on that picnic idea, you decided.
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a/n: yeahh i find it difficult to believe Leo wouldn't have some kind of lowkey trauma aside physical after his last encounter with Oroku Saki before the Farmhouse
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt leonardo#tmnt leo#tmnt x reader#short story#tmnt 2012#tmnt 2012 leo#leonardo#fanfiction#tmnt fanfic#fanfic
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As I'm about 99.9% positive you would agree, I will never understand why people say that Enjolras isn't a good friend or wouldn't be a good boyfriend. Like I get that the revolution and his work was important to him (I personally believe that he would balance his friends and work to the best of his ability), but you cannot tell me that he wouldn't drop everything, including his work, at a moment's notice if a friend needed him. This is something that I believe wholeheartedly, and someone would have to pry this head canon/belief/whatever you want to call it out of my cold dead fingers.
Yes, I of course agree with this 100%. I really don't understand why people would say that either, it is just not him! The thing about Enjolras is that he cares so much, enough to the point where it was what got him killed. Some may argue that he cares more for his cause than for people, and I would say that is because they are viewing the cause and people as two different concepts, when, in reality, they are actually one and the same! Because Enjolras' cause is the people and that includes all people—the common man Feuilly, his (probably previously) wealthy friend Combeferre, and even the man who on several occasions has let him down, disappointed him, and given him all the reason not to trust him, Grantaire. If his cause is the people, how could he ever feel cold towards the people who matter most to him?
I think the idea a vast amount of people have that Enjolras doesn't love comes from the fact that canonically Enjolras does not experience romantic love, and frankly, this sort of thinking is rather dangerous, because it erases the fact that love comes in so many more forms than just romance. Enjolras is filled with an incredible amount of love—love for his friends, love for the people around him, and love for the future, and every one of those aspects links back to the love he feels for those who surround him. It is the love for the people he would encounter everyday while walking on the streets, it is the love for the people he would meet when he would go to buy his bread, it is the love for the friends who would look to him as their beloved friend and leader—it is his love for these people that he launches an entire rebellion— and subsequently dies for it, too. His ideals are defined by the motto of France—liberty, equality, and fraternity—but these ideals are driven by his greatest ideal of all, the one he hold key above others: love, and he makes his value of the ideal abundantly evident in his speech following the execution of Le Cabuc when he says:
"This is a bad moment to mention the word 'love.' I mention it anyway, and I glorify it. Love, the future belongs to you... In the future there will be no killing, the earth will be radiant, the human race will love." (5.12.8.)
From this, it is quite clear that Enjolras does not just experience love, but feels one of the highest and most greatest forms of it, so the characterization that he knows not of the feeling of love is quite unfounded.
He absolutely does love his friends to death. The one time we see him ready to forsake his ideals is when rather than keep the valuable spy Javert, who holds information about the rebels at the barricades, he is willing to hold an exchange so that they may bring back Jehan Prouvaire.
"'Yes,' replied Enjolras. 'But not as much as by Jean Prouvaire's life.'" (5.14.5)
He also sees so much good in his friends, he believes in them wholeheartedly, and for Enjolras, his belief is his expression of love.
"He composed, in his own mind, with Combeferre’s philosophical and penetrating eloquence, Feuilly’s cosmopolitan enthusiasm, Courfeyrac’s dash, Bahorel’s smile, Jean Prouvaire’s melancholy, Joly’s science, Bossuet’s sarcasms, a sort of electric spark which took fire nearly everywhere at once." (5.1.6.)
I've always loved this passage because it allows us to glimpse into Enjolras' mind and see how he truly thinks of his friends, and the way he sees them is incredibly sweet. He sees these people as his brothers who are capable of amazing feats, who are just as passionate as he is, and will be the ones to help him fight for the future. The love he holds for them is incredible, and though we get to see inside of Enjolras' head so little, this passage here is quite enough to inform the reader of just how much Enjolras draws joy from his friends.
In terms of the canonicity of the brick, I have always seen Enjolras' final moment as him realizing and accepting Grantaire's love for him (I would also argue that this moment is also when Grantaire himself, having not known exactly what it was he felt for Enjolras, also realized what exactly he felt for him), but dying with him only as a friend, but the fact that he smiles, and that it is him who extends his hand towards Grantaire says a lot about how strong his platonic love for his friends is. And of course, once again it is not just for his friends; far too many people see Enjolras as a man willing to sacrifice whoever and whatever in order to accomplish his goals, but his words once he discovers that Paris has abandoned their barricade say otherwise. When the rebels stubbornly insist that they all remain, no doubt fantasizing of dying "heroic martyr deaths," rather than encourage them, he instead essentially chides them by reminding them that:
"Vain-glory is wasteful[,]" (5.1.14)
so to paint him as merciless holds no merit. I feel as if this image comes from the quote:
"Enjolras was a charming young man capable of being terrible." (4.4.1.)
While yes, it is very capable for Enjolras to turn ruthless, the key word in that sentence is capable. The word that preceeds it, the one that follows after the definite word was, is the word charming, and the fact that charming is put before terrible holds great significance. Enjolras' first instinct, what comes to him naturally, is to do good, to be good, to be charming. He can be terrible, yes, but he must put his mind into doing so, whereas being a good person comes to him without thinking. Many tend to ignore the first part of the sentence in favour of the second, and they twist it to mean that his first instinct is to do bad instead of good, which really does not define his character at all.
Perhaps the biggest contributor to the misinterpretation of Enjolras' character is the way people have read his dynamic with Grantaire, and the way the lines between canon and fanon Grantaire have been so thoroughly blurred that it has ended up distorting Enjolras' image while erasing major parts of Grantaire's character that makes him the character and to a greater extent, metaphorical representation he is. I will not lie; I write fanfiction, and the version of Grantaire that I write into my stories is most definitely his fanon image; in other words, he is a vastly improved version. But it is incredibly important to acknowledge the way the two concepts deviate from each other, or you'll end up with a situation in which the character you have in mind isn't really the original character itself. It's okay for people to have different perceptions! Everyone understand literature differently, and that's the beauty of the arts! I think it's totally cool that everyone believes in characters in different ways! But for me, it really bothers me the way the fandom tends to paint Grantaire as a saint while portraying Enjolras as a character who always seems to know less than Grantaire, always is on a lower platform than Grantaire, and is always harsh and unjust towards Grantaire, because it simply is not true. A lot about Grantaire is ignored in terms of the canonicity of the brick. For example, it is true that Grantaire is, in fact, ugly, and he's described that way for a specific element of the narrative that Victor Hugo is writing in (@lilys-hazel-eyes is writing a great analysis on morality represented by beauty, which is exactly the point here—you should definitely go check it out!) In the brick, Victor Hugo describes Grantaire's cynicsm to be the "dry-rot of intellect" (4.4.1.) Hugo's stance on nihilism and cynicism is made quite evident in the way he portrays Grantaire, a character meant to represent the physical manifestation of cynicism (some say that he's the physical embodiment of Paris itself and I think that's a really neat reading on that!)
"A rover, a gambler, a libertine, often drunk... Grantaire, with insidious doubt creeping through him, loved to watch faith soar in Enjolras... his soft, yielding, disclocated, sickly, shapeless ideas..." (4.4.1.)
From these descriptions, it is quite clear what sort of opinion Victor Hugo holds of cynics, which is why Grantaire's characterization is so deliberate. He is trying to make a commentary here about the harm those who do not hold passion or belief can do, to both themselves and society. It is why Grantaire's redeeming moment is the one in which he finally comes to accept the hope of the revolution and proves through action his belief in Enjolras.
In terms of what is presented in the brick, Grantaire does not exactly have much to really defend him. Often drunk, he expends his energy into drunk rambles rather than meaningful meeting contributions, (though admittedly, he does say some rather valid and eloquent things within his rambles—the quote "Take away 'Cotton is King,' what remains of America?" [4.4.4] comes to mind) he deliberately pokes and bothers people as seen when he calls Enjolras "heartless," (5.1.6) and when given a task, does not hold up his end of the deal and ger it done despite having asked for it in the first place. Enjolras' doubt in him is actually entirely understandable; after all, what has Grantaire really done to prove himself trustworthy and reliable? When Enjolras asks if "[he is] good for anything" (5.1.6) the question is, likely in his eyes, genuine rather than insulting. And even when he has every reason not to, Enjolras still puts his faith into Grantaire to get something of extreme importance done for him, which I do think says a lot about Enjolras' willingness to believe in the best in people.
Victor Hugo ends the chapter right before we can see Enjolras' reaction to Grantaire's failure, and while this part, I will say, is up for interpretation, personally I have always extrapolated that the most emotion this would draw from him is disappointment—though it is disappointment that he definitely thinks he should have seen coming, rather than imagining him as getting insanely mad at Grantaire.
Their next interaction is during the rebellion itself, during which Enjolras is put under quite a bit of stress and Grantaire's behaviour really is not helping matters, so him snapping is actually very believable, if a little harsh.
The Enjolras seen in fanon, derived from these interactions, always seems so harsh, so rash when he speaks to Grantaire and therefore is characterized as rash and reckless in general, and generally seems to not understand emotion very well, which is very unlike him. Rather than harsh, I would say that with the exception of course of the rebellion at the barricade and the lead up to that time, Enjolras actually seems to be quite calm.
"All held their peace, and Enjolras bowed his head." (4.4.5.)
Rather than instantly explode at Marius for his rather awful beliefs of Napoleon, instead, Enjolras keeps calm and silent, which demonstrates what an incredible depth of patience he has. And as for Enjolras not understanding emotion, when it comes to fanworks, I'm generally tolerant of people holding different perceptions for different characters, but of all perceptions, this one is one I cannot begin to comprehend, and this is one that I will say that to say he knows not of emotion is to have wrongly read his character.
"And a tear trickled slowly down Enjolras' marble cheek." (5.1.8.)
I simply cannot allow myself to believe that the man who cried at the prospect of having to shoot the artillerman, who calls him his "brother," who is no doubt thinking that had circumstances been different, the action he would be taking would not be necessary—I do not believe this is a man who would not understand feelings and emotions.
The Grantaire in the book who has "the dry rot of intellect," (4.4.1) only ever makes unnecessary rants during meetings, and is very much untrustworthy, is a far outcry from the Grantaire who bases his cyncism on being what he would say is being "well informed," often makes valid points in meetings, and proves himself reliable. Similarly, the Enjolras that is thoughful, as he proves himself to be in his "Outlook from the Top of the Barricade" speech, still chooses to believe in the best in others despite being given every reason not to, and is actually quite patient, is very different from his rash and reckless, short tempered, seems-to-hate-Grantaire, fanon counterpart.
Of course, if you take characters who are shaped by their surroundings and circumstances in the nineteenth century and adapt them to fit the scene of the twenty-first century, it's obvious things are going to change! However, I think it's important to keep these key traits in mind when doing so, and more often than not, it is these key traits that end up getting mangled. When one sticks to these traits, it's easy to say Enjolras would be a wondeful friend/boyfriend (if you see him as having one.) Enjolras' whole deal is loving and caring immensely, and to put his absolute one hundred percent effort into everything he does, and that includes into his friendships and relationships.
Once again, I'm not bashing on the fandom here, I'm part of it. I'll repeat again, I too write with the fanon image of Grantaire in my head. Everyone takes away different things from literature, and that's fine! This is simply how I have interpreted it.
One more note on Enjolras.
Les Amis de l'ABC absolutely love Enjolras. The way Enjolras' character has been misinterpreted has ended up having an effect on the way the Amis are looked at as well. The Amis are all so passionate about the revolution, they attend meetings because they truly do believe in the change they can create in their world, so I'll never truly understand the characterization of the Amis as laughing at Enjolras' devotion to the cause, or finding his passion for it stupid or bothersome. Victor Hugo himself describes just how passionate of a group they are:
"All these young men who differed so greatly, and who, on the whole can only be discussed seriously, held the same religion: Progress... The most giddy of them became solemn when they pronounced that date: '89... the pure blood of principle ran in their veins. They attached themselves, without immediate shades, to incorruptible right and absolute duty." (4.4.1.)
Everyone here, with the exception of Grantaire, is here because they believe wholeheartedly in the revolution. This is not something Enjolras forced upon them, this is not something they groan when thinking about, it is something they all believe in so passionately. It is not something they make fun of him for.
"Affiliated and initiated, they sketched out the ideal underground." (4.4.1.)
They are all here by choice, by will, and by the values they hold close to their heart, and so to say Enjolras is someone who constantly whines about his cause and the others think he needs to lighten up is both an insult to him and the rest. Furthermore, the Amis really love Enjolras, and not just as their leader, but as a beloved friend, and as strongly as I believe Enjolras would drop all of his work to help any of the Amis when they are in need, I believe the Amis would do the same for him. The unity of Les Amis de l'ABC says a lot about the kind of charismatic leader Enjolras is, and his friends most definitely adore him.
So yeah, anon, I 100% agree, and rest assured, if they try and take this canon fact away, they'll have to pry it from both our sets of our cold dead fingers.
#les miserables#enjolras#les amis de l'abc#enjolras talk#character analysis#les miserables meta#woah this turned out to be long#I'm so sorry anon you just wanted to express your feelings and I just...went off#I couldn't help it I had been meaning to write up a defence on Enjolras for a while and the opportunity just presented itself#GRANTAIRE STANS BEFORE YOU COME FOR MY BLOOD PLEASE LISTEN TO ME I DON'T HATE GRANTAIRE#This is simply my interpretation of things if you don't agree feel free to ignore it#I fear the Grantaire stans#also I am by no means an expert I'm a teenager not a literature prof or anything so like this might not all be right#so like sorry if it's not completely accurate#this is my interpretation of it#please don't attack me I'm sensitive
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Tina’s Tuesday Night Mini Fic Pt. 1
Word count: Who cares? Lol
A/N: Hi lovelies! I am back!! First thing, I know. You're probably saying Kiley, wtf? It's not Tuesday. I know. Life happened. I've had a busy past few days and a final today. Anyways, this was something I did with @merci-bitch when the U.S originally went on lockdown. It was a fun way to keep me busy and get my mind off of stuff. We both decided to restart this about a week ago. So, I dedicate this to my dear friend Tina. Love you hun and hope you enjoy this! And please, if you haven't been to her blog to read any of her work, go do so. She works so hard on what she writes and is amazing.
Pt. 2 will be coming next week
To everyone waiting on fics: I'll get there. Eventually. And I'm not going into reasoning. But anyways, love you all and I hope you have a great day!
"...This is the greatest show!" You slammed your hands down on the piano keys and breathed in sharply. "God damn it, Jenny!"
"What?" You let a groan and handed her the sheet music. "Look there at that line there. Do you see that note?”
“I can see, can’t I?” Her bright green eyes lost their cool shade of arrogance when she seen how pissed you look. "Not F!” You pointed to the paper in her hand. “D! You hear that note there?" You pressed down on the key repeatedly. "D!"
"Sorry." The red head smiled at you impishly. "No, you're not. This is the fifth time we've done this and yet you still insist on doing this your own way." She sat next to you on the piano bench and gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Well, I think the change makes it sound better.”
“Phineas liked it better this way,” you seethed through gritted teeth. “But what does he know of art?” You could feel your face slowing turning a distinct shade of cherry red and you bit down on your tongue.
"He must of known something with how much you tried to get in his pants," you mused to yourself.
You rolled your eyes. You loved Jenny to death but how you couldn't stand her at times. You tried and tried so desperately to get along with her and compromise when she was like this but no matter what you did, she was stubborn and so..cold at times.
Sure, Jenny was a bit of a snob but she was a genius when it came to music and you respected that. She was what inspired you to take up music in the first place.
Your childhood was far from easy. Before you even joined the circus, you were bounced all over the place. You never belonged anywhere. From the deteriorating cottage in a small, seaside village in Sweden to the cramped one bedroom apartment in London that no one would dare walk past at night. Your father was no where to be seen and your mother was an actress, always struggling to meet ends meet. She was never home, but that wasn't always a bad thing. That meant you got to explore.
That was how you got to hearJenny sing for the first time. Hiding out in the musty attic of an old Swedish theatre. Even before she hit extreme levels of fame, her voice was like a siren's call. Drawing you in further and further in. It still was in a way. She was so beautiful and even as much as she pissed you off, you loved watching her sing. Like the time at the palace. She was eye candy in that dress, the way it hugged her hips and how the bust showed the slightest bit of clevage when you looked at her at just the right angle-
"Stop it, Y/n!" You told yourself. "She's not interested in you."
Or was she? The way she looked at you when you spoke to Phineas was always with such contempt or such jealousy. You could never understand why though. It was her who tried to steal Phineas away. Not you. He was a close friend who gave you a chance when you had nothing and you never so much as even thought of eyeing him in such a manner. Phineas clearly wasn't interested in her or any other woman but his wife. He pushed her away numerous times. Jenny had no reason to be jealous of you. Yet, she was.
‘But it is of me or others though?"
One could never be sure with Jenny. Sure, there was a bit of a rivalry between the two of you when it came to music. But she was your friend. 'Very clingy for just a friend,' you noted.
'That's normal though, isn't it?'
Maybe you were just over thinking things. Besides, the relationship between the two of you seemed to be getting better lately. Ever since the scandal went public, it seemed the two of you were spending more and more time together.
You were the only one who listened to her side of the story, held her when she cried, made sure she wasn't drinking her emotions away, and tried to help her through it. Even as much as she pissed you off. You warned her in the first place not to seek out Phineas but despite the nasty arguments, the constant bickering she became your friend. Maybe even your best friend. Which you got alot of shit for.
Nobody liked Jenny and you were starting to get the feeling you weren't so popular anymore either. Everyone thought after the affair went public, the two of you would of left. Her name as well as yours, was slandered all over the paper simply because you associated with her. You had been called it all. The ring leader, the mastermind, the mistress to the two.
But neither of you resigned. Yet. Part of you wondered how long it would be until either would receive letters of negotiations to end your contract. But either way, you knew Jenny wasn't leaving without you. She promised you that.
'So maybe she does like me.'
Then that small voice came in the back of your head. 'Or maybe you just want her to like you back.'
Either way, you couldn't let that haunt your conscience for now. Even as much as you'd like to visualize a future with her, it wouldn't work. You could feel the heat pooling into your cheeks as you came back to reality and bit down on your lip. Jenny's hand was lingering up and down your back, rhythmically making shapes with the tips of her fingers. Damn her and her touch! You shouldn't be feeling this way.
"Are you okay?" You shook your head and covered your face with your hands, trying not focus on all the pain you felt inside. "No. No, I’m not."
You felt tears burning in the sides of your eyes. "This isn’t working!” Jenny furrowed her brow and tried to move your hands away from your face. “What do you mean?” She was trying to be gentle even though you could tell from the look in her eyes she had no clue what to do.
“This..all of this!” You ripped the sheet music out of her hand and flung it on top of the piano. “Something's got to give,"
She rolled her eyes as if she seen it all before and stood up, walking hastily over to the ice bucket. "Do you not have what you want?" She opened up a bottle of red wine. "Fame? Recogniton?"
"It's not enough and I don't know if I even have any of that anymore." Jenny eyed you as she poured the liquor heavily into both glasses. "I'm not liked here, Jenny."
She handed you your glass and sat down next to you. You eagerly took a sip of the wine, just wanting to forget everything for a little while. "That's not true. I like you." She leaned in closer to you.
You cracked a small grin filled with cynicism. Maybe even a little bit of hostility. Never had you felt so much love and hate towards someone at the same time. "We could both leave." Jenny's voice pulled you out of your head.
"And go where?"
"Back to Sweden with me for the time being." You noticed the intensity in Jenny's eyes growing and she reached out and grabbed your hand. You could feel her nimble gently squeezing into the palm of your hand. "You know I care for you, Y/n."
"Do you?" You tried your hardest not to sound sarcastic, you were still a little mad at her. But god! How close she was to you. You could smell her expensive perfume, see the slight hint of a shimmer radiating off of her lips. "You're fiery and you don't take my shit."
This couldn't be real. You had to be dreaming. "Jenny, this...there's a possibility this couldn't work." You tried to scoot away from her, a little intimidated by the proximity between the two of you.
"We can try to make it work."
"How?" You eyed her skeptically. "Let me take you out. Let me show you I can make this work." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Why? Need a new fling after Phineas?" You teased.
Jenny wasn't amused by that all. If anything she was pissed but she smiled anyways. Seeming to stoop down to your level with a smile that was sickly sweet. "More like a date."
"And why should I do this with you?" She let go of your hand and placed it on your thigh. "Because I probably understand you alot more than you think." As you looked into Jenny's eyes, you found some level of sincerity mixed into those deep lustful orbs. You wanted to trust her so badly.
"What do I have to lose?" You thought.
Everything. Everything to lose.
"Fine." You gave in, despise everything in your mind screaming not too. "But you have one shot and one shot only."
Jenny nodded and leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. "And it won't take me more than once to impress. After all, I already made your career." You felt the hair on your arms stand straight up as her hands lingered on you, gently squeezing your hips.
"I'll see you tomorrow at 6. Sharp."
"Yeah," you watched as Jenny walked away, her hair flowing behind her like a beautiful sheath.
You felt a pit growing in the depths of your stomach. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?
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Got that 5'7 black and white half and half. Female my style changes just like my moods 🤪 lie the only mood I got is anger cuz it is like that. Dumby smart tho so you know the vibes. I play Minecraft, Fortnite, Roblox, call of duty, and pubg. I rage and curse people out bc it is like that. My ADHD and dyslexia be going bop. Get bored easily and likes to run around I'm an extrovert yet I dislike people except for my friends. I draw yessir. Can I get a BNHA 🥵
Hiiii, Thank you for the request ! I did have a bit of trouble picking the perfect guy for you, just because there were SO MANY that came to mind! I enjoyed the dynamics of this one though and I hope you do too! Much love ❤️ @kanna1-1
I match you with....
Denki!
-Kaminari, being his own interesting self, loves how often you change your style and can’t wait to see your new look!
-He often will actually help you pick out a new look because he wants to be a part of the process that makes up you, his amazing girlfriend
-Denki, on the surface, comes off as loud and energetic, but he is actually a much more calm and laidback person which goes really well with your loud, angry personality
-He LOVES that you’re taller than him, even if its not by much.
-He’s very attracted to girls and will take what he can get. This, of course, leads to extreme body worship
-Kaminari doesn’t do well in school. In fact, he was ranked 20th in the class because of his grades. This is why he often asks for your help with studies and often needs help being reminded that he needs to graduate high school before he can become a pro-hero
-I see lots of study dates in your future. As well as, a lot of tutoring sessions with the Baku-Squad
-Denki also enjoys playing video games with you. He takes it as good practice
-However, after a few playing sessions, Kaminari ends up swearing he won’t play with you again because he can’t handle your extreme cursing and rage quiting
-This will lead to a lot of fights because this makes you feel like Denki doesn’t accept the real you, even when you’re angry
-After a while, he will realize that him not playing with you puts a huge strain on your relationship and so, in order to become more able, he will play with Bakugou to become used to the cursing and screaming
-It isnt fun for Kaminari, but it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. He’ll happily burst his eardrums to make his girlfriend happy
-Denki, although internally calm and relaxed, often gets irritated and frustrated by daily tasks such as homework or even something as simple as tripping in the grass
-He often comes to you just to complain and let off steam. He enjoys doing this because you will often get angry at the situation too and need to blow off steam about it too
-Because schoolwork irritates Denki, he’ll often use you as a distraction so he doesn’t have to do his work
-He enjoys doing energetic activities with you that he may not be able to do with his other friends; such as hiking and mountain biking
-He often takes you to amusement parks late at night, sneaking out of the dorms to do so, just to see you happy and giddy
-Kaminari also knows how bored you can get, so he’s always trying to keep you on your toes. He always invites you to his plans with his friends, which you always graciously accept, knowing there wont be a single dull moment
-He loves watching you socialize and meet new people. He especially loves when you meet someone new who you have something in common with. In fact, he watched you with a smile on his face the first time you ever met Mina. He was both amazed and infatuated with how you and Mina could talk about cheeta print for an hour
-Being a social person himself, he loves this aspect about you. He thinks it makes it so much more easy to go out and have fun with you
-One of Kaminari’s favorite pass-times is watching you and Bakugou battle it out EVERY time you see each other. He, and everyone else, finds it very entertaining watching Bakugou meet his match from hell
-Denki is also a very insecure person and quickly starts to doubt himself when he sees you with his friends
-He’s actually had deep rooted insecurities of you leaving him for his friends. He thinks that you and Bakugou are so alike and that you’d do amazing together. He also worries that Kirishima, since he can handle Bakugou so well, would be better off for you. He particularly can’t help himself from thinking that Sero’s looks would drive you away from him either.
-Because of these insecurities, Denki often flirts to and talks about other girls in front of you to try and cause these same insecurities
-This, of course, causes lots of fights between you two. You find it disrespectful for Kaminari to be acting in such a way while being with you and Denki is too insecure to stop
-In order to try and make it up to you, he often leaves you small gifts in your locker. He once left you a rose he made out of jolly ranchers and was so embarrassed with his actions that he avoided you for the rest of the day. Until, of course, you pinned him behind the dorm building when he took the trash out. The blush on his face and guilt he felt was enough for him to never even think of looking at another girl for the rest of his life
-Kaminari especially loves how agressive and down-to-earth you can be. He finds it admirable how effortlessly you can put someone in their place and then turn around and smile at him like nothing just happened
-Kaminari is definitely your biggest fan when it comes to artwork
-He has, more than once, asked you to draw him and/or his friends
-And, if you do, he often shoves the masterpiece in everyone’s face before promptly putting it on the fridge. He thinks everyone deserves to be blessed by your work
-If you plan on going into a career with art work, he 100% supports you and encourages you to get out there
-Sadly, with all the training and studying Denki has to do to get by, he barely has any time to spend with you. This kills him on the inside
-Which is why he plans on marrying you as soon as you both graduate from UA. He wants to spend every free moment of his pro-hero life with you
#my hero academia#denki kaminari#denki headcanons#denki x you#boku no hero imagines#headcanons#matchup#writing#request#denki fluff#anime fanfic#bnha x y/n#bnha#bnha fanfiction#bnha fluff
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random vent because i'm numb rn and feel like it
This is a vent post, ill probably talk about su!cide, self h*rm, eating disorders and depression. I’ll also cuss a lot, and things will not be censored. Also, this may seem insensitive to people experiencing any of this, sorry about that. Dont read this if youre triggered by that.
Also, this is my experience with mental health. Everyone deals with it differently.
So, If anyone doesnt know, I have depression and anxiety. And right now, I’m feeling numb as it’s often described by people with depression. But, numb isn’t a very good description. I can still feel. I’ll still smile if you tell me a joke, or if something funny is on a video. I’ll still cry if there’s something super sad. Emotion is just watered down. I feel it, but not as much as I should. Me and my boyfriend were talking, and i couldnt tell him I loved him. It’s not becuase I dont love him, but I just cant feel much of anything, so I dont want to tell him I loved him. Becuase If i did that, I felt as though I was lying. The funniest thing is, I randomly started crying. Still felt nothing, but hey, I had tears streaming down my face. Who fucking knows why.
I havent been doing to great for a while now, but this is the worst i’ve ever gotten. Ive never felt numb before. I mean, I’ve felt myself starting to go through the motions, but i’ve never gone completely numb before. And before this i’ve had a few mental breakdowns. Hell, I’ve sat in a corner twice in the past month or so doing nothing but sobbing and begging myself not to move so I dont grab something sharp and cut myself. (I did not relapse, don’t worry). and recently I completely broke down over simply eating a cereal bar, got through it, ate it. I’m good now.
Figures. That does seem to be my experience. Oh no, big bad issue one time, then magically I just talk myself out of my bullshit, and im fixed. Ha ha, yet I act like I have all these issues. I mean, I didnt even attempt to starve myself, just thought “oh, friends and family wont let me” and didnt. Had a breakdown about a year later, been fine since. Cut for a few months, went to therapy for a few months, stopped cutting. had a few breakdowns about a year or two later, then was fine. was suicidal for a while, went to therapy for a bit, was happy for months. Had breakdowns every now and then, fine now.
ha ha, first time I say alot of this is online. Figures. I’ve done that a lot too. My boyfriend has found out a bit about my depression through this site. Becuase I cant talk to my boyfriend about my shit, but hey random people on the internet! hear about my problems.
So on another note, I recently found a song that describes part of depression pretty well. It’s called “i’m not dead” by boyinaband. it’s linked below, I’ll copy paste the lyrics, and explain how I relate, and what the lyrics mean to me, becuase why not? (lyrics will be in bold)
undefined
youtube
I'm not dead
I'm not fixed, but I'm not giving up yet
Basically, this means that im still here, im still depressed, but I’m still trying to fight depression.
I'm sick of saying that I still don't have anything done
I hate telling friends I'm trying something just to give it up
I never commit to anything, I just say I’ll do something, then decide I dont want to.
I'm still unsure of my emotional state
I'm still incapable of focusing lately
I don't feel like creating
I'm tired of asking Google how to find motivation
I’ve been on break from writing for months now. tried to get back to it, lost concentration. I think this is self explanatory.
I don't think I've ever made
Something that's as good as I'm capable of
Ha, I dont put in enough effort and commitment to make something as good as possible.
I hate not having a reason to look my best
I only ever take care of myself with the intent to show the internet
I mean, I dont try to show the internet, but I only take care of myself when other people will see me.
If what made me successful was an imposed sense of stress then
I am so so glad that I hated myself
The only thing that makes me do things is extreme stress.
I didn't luck into this position
I struggle with decisions
I mean, im not in any high position, but I do struggle with decisions.
I wouldn't be my own friend
I'm too inconsistent
I’m inconsistent as hell. I’m in like 10 group chats, don't talk in any of them for months, then just show up like “hi, havent talked to you all in ages, but hi”.
Without immense pressure nothing ever gets finished
If these words make it to your ears it'll be a fucking miracle.
Yep. I went on whole rant about this on wattpad. Without pressure to do something, I don’t do it.
I'm fortunate to know more good people than most do
I wish I had more friends I could be physically close to
I dont personally have a lot of friends that dont live in my city, so the last line isnt an issue, but I do know a lot of good people”
I'm pretty good at like 20 different skill sets
At the expense of never being great at any one of them
I’m good at quite a few things. Drawing, math, even writing. But im not great at it. I’m average.
I wish this beat hit harder
I wish more syllables rhymed
I know 99 percent of people really don't mind
I dont personally relate to this, seeing as I dont make music.
I think collaborating forced me to finish things
'Cause I was terrified of wasting famous people's time
Oh yeah. Group projects would not get done if i wasnt scared of wasting my partner’s time.
I wish I could focus on what I define priority
I wish I was as grateful as I want to be
Dont really relate to these things
I wish I knew more people who were mentally stable
But if I did,
I wouldn't let them waste their time on me while I'm disabled
Oh yeah. Id love to have a friend who isnt depressed, but I wouldnt let them see that im fucked up becuase i dont wanna drag them down.
I feel alone
I know I'm not
I have a lot of friends, but I still fell alone in this world
I used to talk to lots of people.
Lately I've stopped
They didn't deserve it,
I've been a terrible friend.
But I couldn't bear to let myself become boring to them
I ignore group chats all the time. no reason. Probably shouldnt.
I don't let myself get my hopes up.
I love people who do.
Something good happens? what could go wrong? that is my thought precess.
I never know if what I say I feel is the truth
I have no damn Idea what I think, so its so hard to know what the truth in my head is.
I wish I didn't instinctively try to be less specific
So more people could relate, when they read along with the lyrics.
Not lyrics, but if i write/explain something, I immediately generalize things so its relateable.
I can be happy in the moment
I am not when I reflect
I smile watching youtube, but then I look back and think about how I wasted time.
I distract myself with gaming, waiting to get better
I hate it
Youtube will cure depression right? /s
I wanna do the most good, and prevent the most hurt
But I've gotta put on my own oxygen mask first
This is just an important phrase I try to remember when I’m down. for people who dont do well with metaphors, he’s saying that if you want to help people, you need to help yourself first.
I can't predict what I'll do.
I can never be sure
I am terrified of making promises any more
I can't face my work,
I feel sick from the word
I genuinely believe I'm capable of changing the world
Don’t relate much here, except for the more positive, upbeat tone the song takes on, and i feel that this part, the part above and everything below is dave fighting his depression.
I still think I can get better
I’m holding onto hope.
I still think I can create and get pleasure from it
I hope so, I want my art and writing to improve.
I'll keep aiming to make my emotion and my logic agree
The eternal stuggle. I always try to get the two to line up, it rarely works. I try to use logic more often though.
And become the best version of me
Always trying to improve myself.
I don't want to stop!
I don't want to stop!
I don't want to stop!
I don't want to stop!
There’s alot this could mean. I dont want to stop creating. I dont want to stop fighting. I dont want to stop getting better. I dont want to stop living. I relate to all these things.
I’ll expand on this more later, it’s too late now for me to continue this
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If You Don't Love Me, Lie To My Face - Part I (Reylo Fanfic)
Part I | Part II | Part III | Epilogue
Summary: Grifter!Rey helps U.S. Senator Leia Organa's son, Ben Solo, out of a jam when a couple of muggers invade her turf. Afterward, she debates robbing the rich American herself, but can she protect her heart while stealing his?
Pairing: Rey + Ben Solo | Finn + Poe Dameron
Rating: E
Continuity: Modern AU
A/N: For the first time ever, I’ve actually written most of the story before I started posting! I think it will be way less stressful since I don’t have to “keep up” with updates. New chapters will be posted each Friday. Enjoy!
Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr
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If You Don't Love Me, Lie To My Face - Part I
By: sushigirlali
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Kennington, London
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There are moments in life that make you question everything that came before. A look from a stranger, an incident at your job, a terrible movie... things Rey Niima was usually able to push past without pause, but tonight, she was finding it extremely difficult to ignore the feeling that her life was about to change forever.
"Hey, give us your wallet!" A pair of brawlers had cornered a man at the mouth of a nearby alley, drawing Rey's attention as soon as she stepped out the back door of her favorite pub, The Black Prince.
"Excuse me?" the would-be victim responded indignantly. His voice was deep with an American lilt, his stature intimidating.
Did these fools really think they could steal from a man like that? But then, not all criminals were as intelligent as her.
"You heard me! I want your wallet!"
Rey hung back from the potentially violent situation unfolding before her, sizing up the assailants. Their outfits were all black, including the ski masks covering their faces, but she couldn't see any identifying marks or gang affiliations. "Must be lone wolves," she thought.
There was something familiar about the tall one doing the talking, but she couldn't place them. It probably didn't matter, though, because the redwood with the nice accent looked like he could take the both of them with one hand tied behind his broad back.
Still, for some reason, she was finding it hard to walk the other way. Definitely not because the man was the most striking person she had ever seen. No, it had to be due to the fact that these bums were causing a ruckus on her turf. At least, that's what she kept telling herself, frozen to the spot as she was.
"Listen, I just got done volunteering at a shelter all day and just want to get home. Please allow me to leave unmolested."
"Volunteering at a shelter?" she muttered under her breath. "Well, fuck. But it's not your business, don't get involved." Rey was turning around to go back inside the pub when the sound of a gun cocking drew her up short.
"Don't make me repeat myself again, pretty boy."
"Whoa, hey, there's no need for that!"
"Then empty your pockets! Now!"
"No," he said crossly. "Put that thing away before somebody gets hurt."
"Dammit," Rey groaned, retrieving the silver baton clipped to her belt. Sometimes, she really hated having a conscience; in her line of work, it was a real liability.
"Hey, get your hands off me!"
"Oh, for fuck's sake," she growled, resolutely stalking toward the turbulent scene. "Oi! You lot!"
The big guy and his sidekick paused to look in her direction. "What?" the leader said in a surprisingly feminine voice.
"Not a guy," Rey mused. "Based on your absolutely abominable bullying technique, I don't think you're getting that guy's wallet any time this century, so why don't you just leave him alone and move along."
"Excuse me?" the woman said threateningly.
"I'm sorry, did I stutter?"
"You move along, little mouse, this doesn't concern you!" the shorter guy spat.
"You do know who's neighborhood this is, don't you?" Rey said tauntingly.
"Yeah?" the first one said dismissively. "So what."
"So, knock it off! We don't need the fuzz coming down here because some hooligans are roughing up a foreigner."
"Hooligans?! And who the fuck are you?"
"Me?" Rey sneered, flicking the baton out to the side so that it extended into a long poll. "I'm no one."
"Phas," the skinny guy said nervously, obviously recognizing her at last, "we should go."
Rey had never been so proud of her reputation as a grifter who was just as likely to steal an expensive piece of art from the peerage in an elaborate heist as kick a thug's ass in the street.
"But the boss—"
"He'll understand."
"But—"
"Phas!"
"Fine. But don't think this is over!" the woman yelled before running off with her companion.
"Well," the American said slowly, "that was an experience I never wish to repeat again." He smiled at her. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
"You're welcome," Rey replied gruffly, still riding high on adrenaline. "Do you always walk around by yourself at night in a city not your own?"
"Do you always save unsuspecting passersby from thieves?" he retorted.
Her phone went off, but she didn't answer it. Up close, the man was even more attractive than she had initially thought. "Suit looks expensive, too… and is that a Breitling?" Perhaps it was her lucky night after all. "Only if they're handsome," she said smoothly.
"Oh, uh…" he flushed at her compliment.
"Hmm… not the reaction I expected." It was kind of refreshing, though. "Sorry, I—ugh, one sec," she said as her cell went off again. "My brother," she explained, checking the caller ID. "I have to take this or he'll just keep phoning until I pick up."
The man shrugged, "No problem, I'll just wait over here." He stepped up onto the curb and walked a few paces away.
Rey nodded and lifted the phone to her ear. "What?" she said shortly.
"Who's the stiff?" Finn asked without preamble.
"Nobody."
"Right," he huffed. "Are you working him?"
"Undecided, stop pushing."
"Whatever you say, Rey. Just be careful."
"I will. Where are you anyway?" she said, humored by his tough older sibling act.
"Hanging outside the pub, just around the corner. Why? You need me?" Finn teased.
"No, I'll catch you later. Don't wait up." She ended the conversation before he could respond and stuffed the phone into her back pocket. "Sorry about that, uh…?"
"Ben," the stranger supplied, moving closer again. "Ben Solo."
"I'm Rey," she said, holding out a hand.
Ben's lips quirked and he gave her a firm handshake, his huge hand dwarfing hers. Rey felt a shiver run up her spine at the brief contact, but she shook it off.
"So, what's that for?" he indicated the weapon still in her hand. "Joining the circus?"
"No," she grinned, "it's a bo staff. I use it for self defense."
"And the defense of others," he said warmly.
"On occasion." She folded the bo staff back into a baton before reattaching it to her belt.
"Can I get you a drink?" he nodded toward the pub. "To say thank you?"
"I was actually on my way home before I… bumped into you."
"I could… walk you home? If you want." He didn't sound desperate, but it was a near thing.
"I'm not from around here," she said evasively. She couldn't really bring him back to her base of operations, which was only a few blocks down the street, but she didn't want to stop talking to him either. "What a dilemma."
"No? Where are you from then?"
"Nowhere."
"Okay… Well, I promise I'm not a pervert or a serial killer or anything," he said earnestly, "so you can come back to my hotel with me if you want. It's late and I'd hate for anything to happen to you."
She crossed her arms. "Because I'm a woman?"
"Hey, I'm 6'3" and double your weight and I almost got jumped like ten minutes ago," he reminded her. "It can happen to anyone."
"Fair enough," she allowed, lowering her defenses. "Still…"
"I can call my security detail if you want verification that I'm not a psycho," he offered. "I'd just like the opportunity to get to know the woman who saved my hide."
Rey's interest sharpened. "That's sweet, but uh… security detail?"
"Yeah," he said nonchalantly. "My mother is a U.S. Senator. I'm in town on her behalf. She was supposed to come herself, but her re-election campaign is heating up and she couldn't spare the time."
"You disapprove," she said perceptively.
Ben's dark brows shot up. "Yeah, actually. You a mind reader, Rey from nowhere?"
"Something like that," she smirked. "I prefer the term grifter."
"Grifter?" he said curiously. "What does that mean, exactly?"
"Oh, you know," Rey winked for effect, assuming the privileged American was about to run in the opposite direction, "I swindle rich people out of their valuables by preying on their weaknesses. Basically, I'm a professional bad guy."
Ben looked hopelessly confused by her explanation. "But you just helped me."
"Well, sometimes I like to help out the little guy." Rey looked him over. "Little big guys too."
"Like Robin Hood?" he said, disarming her with a crooked smile.
"What? I wouldn't say I'm—I'm a hero or anything," she stuttered.
"Well, you're my hero," he said smoothly, holding out a hand. "That's my driver pulling up over there, in the black Jag. Join me? Please?"
"I… okay," she agreed, placing her hand in his, "but just for a little while." This time, she couldn't ignore the shiver.
——————
Alarm bells should be going off in her head, but Rey felt perfectly comfortable with her new companion. It was odd, considering her trust issues, but Ben didn't seem to be only interested in her looks. And she knew she looked good tonight, her dark leather leggings were basically painted on and her lacy bra was visible through a mostly sheer black tank top. Add on her subtle smoky makeup and half-up hair style that emphasized her cheek bones and...
"Rey?"
She loved the way he said her name, almost like a caress. "Yes?"
"Are you hungry? I haven't had dinner yet."
"Oh, sure," she said, never one to give up a free meal. Though she did kinda wish something else was on the menu… "What is wrong with you? You just met the man! Note to self: masturbate more."
"Chinese okay?"
Her mouth watered. "Perfect."
"What do you like?"
"Besides you?" she said without thinking. "Uh, I mean—anything, really. Noodles, if they have them."
Ben let her comment pass, but he was beaming. "I like noodles too. Maybe some kind of chicken? Orange?"
"Excellent," she seconded.
"You're easy," he said, but then caught himself, looking horrified. "I mean to order food for, not—"
"It's okay," she laughed, patting his thigh. "I know what you meant."
"Sorry, I haven't done this in a long time," he said sheepishly, catching her hand before she could remove it.
"This?"
"Gone on a date."
"Oh." Was this a date? Rey couldn't remember the last time she had been on one. Pretty much anytime she'd been alone with a man not her brother in the past ten years it was because she intended to rob them.
"Not that this has to be a date," he said quickly, releasing her hand. "Sorry, I keep saying stupid things."
Dammit, but he was cute. "You don't have to keep apologizing," she replied lightly. "Let's just have dinner and talk and see where that takes us." Maybe the night would lead to some fun extracurricular activities, maybe not, but at least she'd be able to case his place. Based on what she knew so far, the guy definitely came from old money. "Just keep reminding yourself that he's potentially a mark, not a boyfriend, Rey."
"Sure," he smiled, looking relieved. "Hey, Poe?" he said to the driver. "Can you pick up some food after dropping us at the hotel? We're starving."
——————
Ben fumbled a little opening the door, but quickly recovered and ushered Rey inside with a gallant sweep of his arm. The hotel was nice, but not extravagant, something she found odd for the son of a U.S. Senator. Then again, he had apparently been helping out at a shelter all day, so maybe he really was as down to earth as he seemed.
"The bathroom is through there if you need it," he pointed toward the bedroom.
"I'm fine, thanks."
"Okay, I'm just going to grab a quick shower. Poe should be back within the hour, so make yourself at home."
"Can I join you?" she was tempted to say. "Sure, I'll just watch the telly."
Ben nodded and left the room. A few seconds later, Rey heard the water start. Flipping on the TV, she left it on the cartoon channel before having a look around.
There weren't any expensive electronics or pieces of art in plain sight, so Rey could only assume that anything valuable would be in his room. "Oh, well, nothing gained, nothing lost. Better update Finn, though."
Yanking her cell out, Rey sent a quick text to her brother with Ben's name, the hotel's address, and a couple sentences about the modest state of his living room. He answered her almost immediately, sounding concerned.
Finn: Are you sure about this bloke? If you're not there to rob him, I assume that means you're interested in something else?
Rey: Yes? Maybe? I don't know. We just met, but…
Finn: At least text me later, okay? So I don't have to worry
Rey: I will. Love you 3
Finn: Love you too, peanut
Finn: ...check the room safe if you get a chance. Those types of hotels always have them and you never know what might be inside ;)
Rolling her eyes, but knowing he was right, Rey listened for a moment. It sounded like Ben was still in the shower, so she took the opportunity to pop into the bedroom and search his closet. A standard issue hotel safe was at the back, surrounded by some very nice black suits.
It wouldn't have been hard to crack the safe if she had her gear, but her heart wouldn't have been in it even if she did. She didn't want to rob Ben Solo, which was a first. Still, she did appreciate a challenge...
"Did you need something?"
Rey whipped around to see her host in nothing but a low slung white towel. "No, I—uh…"
"Would you like something to change into?" he inquired kindly.
Unable to respond with his magnificent chest and long thighs on display, Rey just shook her head in the negative. His brow creased and she felt like a kid who had been caught snooping for Christmas presents. "Shit, shit, shit, I've totally blown it!" Backtracking to the living room, she wasn't surprised when he followed. "What should I do? Oh, god, I don't want him to think…"
"Rey, what you said earlier… about being a… what did you call it? A grifter? Are you—mmph!" he started, unable to complete his thought as Rey impulsively reached up to kiss him.
But instead of pushing her away and demanding an answer, Ben threaded his fingers through her hair and dragged her closer. Taking his response as permission, Rey wrapped her arms around his waist, gripping his bare back as the kiss went on and on.
Somehow, they ended up next to the couch. Rey pushed Ben into a sitting position and climbed onto his lap, rubbing her clothed core against the tent in his towel. "Rey," he whispered, lips trailing down to her neck, "Rey, I want you."
"Yes," she responded as he reached for her waistband. Coming up on her knees, she growled when he yanked her leggings and underwear down her hips with one forceful tug. Things were getting out of control, going too far too fast, but she didn't care; she wanted him too. "Help me," she demanded, legs trapped by the constricting garments.
"I've got you," he huffed, reaching behind her to unzip her black combat boots and pull her pants the rest of the way off.
Meanwhile, Rey tore her top and bralette over her head before going to work on the towel barely covering his lap. "Wow!" she blew out a breath, zeroing in on his ardent erection when it was uncovered. He was big, maybe bigger than anyone she'd ever been with. Would he fit?
"Fuck," Ben sighed, sitting back to stare at her body, "you're beautiful, Rey."
Feeling weirdly shy about the sincerity in his sinful voice, Rey kissed him again in lieu of a response, reaching between them to spread herself for entry.
"Wait," he said, gasping for air, "what about protection?"
"Implant," she mumbled, rubbing her slit against the tip of his penis. "I'm clean, are you?"
"Yeah, I haven't—oh, god—uh, done it in a while."
"Good." She felt strangely possessive of him, this man she had just met. It pleased her that he didn't sleep around. "Fuck me, then. Raw."
Ben slammed his mouth down on hers again, positioning his dick with one hand and gripping her left buttock with the other. But he didn't ram himself home, instead he teased her hole, sliding only a fraction of the way in before retreating. He did it over and over, mimicking the action with his tongue until she was incoherent with desire, squirming, imploring him to fill her…
And then he was, and she found that he fit very well inside her indeed. His thick cock seemed to be made for her, hitting all the right spots and ones she hadn't even known existed until now. "Ben!" she cried, furiously pumping her hips in time with his thrusts. "This is—you're—"
"I feel it too!" he returned, palming her breast and teasing her erect nipple. "From the first moment I saw you, I—"
She licked his mouth, begging for entrance, not wanting to hear his sweet words even as they made her heart soar. He opened for her, but was obviously frustrated that she had cut off his declaration. Before she knew it, the hand squeezing her ass drew back and lightly smacked against her butt-cheek.
"Oh!" Rey jolted at the slight sting, but it wasn't in pain. On the contrary, she requested, "Again! Ben, do that again, please! I'm—"
Knock, knock.
"Oh, shit, Poe's at the—"
"Don't you fucking dare, Ben Solo," she growled, bouncing up and down on him with renewed vigor. But the driver started knocking harder, likely because of the guttural sounds erupting from Ben's throat. "Come on, man, can't you tell we're busy?!"
"But—shit!" Ben hauled her against him, no longer playing, just looking for relief before his friend broke the door down.
Rey found his soft grunts and swears endearing, so she took pity on him and increased her pace even further. "Come for me, Ben," she instructed, grinding down on him with all her might. "Come now and then we can eat. Or you can eat me, whichever you prefer."
The dirty talk seemed to work, because in the next minute, Ben was biting down on her shoulder, shaking with the force of his orgasm. Not far behind, Rey led his hand to her swollen nub, needing just a hair more stimulation to tip over the edge. Almost instantly, his trembling touch sent her into climax. Still vaguely aware of what's-his-name banging on the hotel room door, she pressed her mouth to Ben's pectoral to muffle her cries and came for what felt like ages…
"That—was—amazing," Ben panted, hugging her so tightly she thought she might pop. "The—best—I've—ever—had!"
"Me—too," she couldn't help but admit.
Loosening his hold, Ben cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly. "Thank you."
"Ah—you're welcome," she said, smiling like an idiot. Before she could lean in again, Poe resumed making his presence known.
"Ben? Are you okay? Answer me! Did that woman kill you? Your mother will be so pissed if you're dead." He hit the door again. "Either answer me in the next ten seconds or I'm going to get security!"
"I'm fine, great, alive, whatever!" Ben called back loudly. "And annoyed," he said to Rey. "Go into the bedroom for a minute while I get rid of him."
"Okay," she agreed, gingerly getting up. They both groaned when he slipped out of her, which Rey found gratifying. "Can I use the shower now?"
"Sure, there are towels under the sink. My sleep shirts are in the top drawer of the dresser," he offered.
"He wants me to spend the night?" she mused, feeling giddy and terrified all at once. "Alright," she said aloud, picking up her clothes and disappearing into the bedroom she'd been casing earlier, "call out if you need backup."
"Will do," he chuckled, "will do."
——————
Ten minutes later, Rey emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh and back in control. Picking a long sleeve shirt out of Ben's dresser at random, she pulled it over her naked body before toweling off her wet hair. The black cotton was as soft as it was big, but Rey didn't mind; it smelled like Ben.
Catching her reflection in the floor length mirror by the closet, she was amused to see that the garment fell to her knees like a sack, giving her already slender body exactly zero shape. "Oh, well, it's not like I plan on wearing it lon—"
A disturbance in the living room suddenly diverted her reverie. Sneaking to the door, she carefully cracked it and peaked out.
"You can't just keep her here!" Poe nearly shouted at Ben.
"Keep your fucking voice down," he snarled back. "You're not my boss or my mother and you can't tell me what to do. I'm a grown ass man!"
"Maybe so, but you're acting like a teenager! You can't just sleep with some chick you picked up off the side of the road when Leia is counting on you to—"
"I told you," Ben said through gritted teeth, "she saved my ass and I wanted to get to know her. I didn't hire her for the fucking night!"
"Could have fooled me," Poe scoffed. "For all you know, she could have been in on the attack and—"
"Get out!" Ben ordered, clearly at his wit's end. "I'll call you when you're needed again, if you are."
"Are you firing me?!"
"Not yet," Ben said grimly, marching to the door and flinging it open. "Just go before I forget that you're my best friend and say something I regret."
"Fine," Poe said, storming out of the apartment. "Let me know when you come to your senses!"
Ben slammed the door shut, then turned around and leaned on it. Scurrying back into the bathroom before he caught her eavesdropping, she started combing her hair, attempting to look natural in case he came in after her. When he didn't, she tried not to feel disappointed.
Leaving her damp hair hanging loose around her shoulders, Rey found him sitting at the dining table in his towel with several brown paper bags in front of him. He looked lost in thought and she hoped he hadn't taken Poe's opinion about her motives to heart. "Wotcher, Ben?" she asked hesitantly.
"Hmm?" he said, looking up at her. "Sorry, I was just...uh…" The arrested look on his face made her toes curl. "Wow, you look amazing."
"This old thing?" she joked, sidling up next to him. "I borrowed it from a mate."
"He has good taste," he said, opening his arms.
"I certainly think so," she said coyly, moving to sit sideways on his lap. Rey curled one arm around his neck and placed the other one on his chest. "Are you still hungry?"
"For food?" he choked, holding her so that she wouldn't slide off.
"Food," she nodded, leaning her forehead against his, "and other things."
One of Ben's large hands inserted itself between her thighs. "These kinds of things?" he murmured. "I think we can—fuck!" he bit his lip as he discovered that she wasn't wearing anything underneath his shirt.
"We can certainly fuck," she teased, "but—oh!" Rey gasped as he stood with her in his strong arms. "Ben? What are you…?"
Before she could get the words out, he'd pushed their dinner out of the way and laid her down on the table. Placing the backs of her knees in the crook of each arm, Ben pulled her forward until her butt was on the edge of the table and her pussy was level with his mouth.
"Having dinner," he said in the most ridiculously sexy tone of voice she'd ever heard, flipping his nightshirt up so that she was bare from the waist down.
"Oh, god!" she whimpered as he lowered his head. "Ben, you don't really have to—ah!" Gripping the back of his head as he started to lick her folds, Rey shuddered every time his long nose bumped against her clit.
"Enjoying yourself?" he said a little arrogantly. "Is this why you came home with me? Cause you wanted me to make you feel good?"
Considering how very well he was treating her, and the uncertainty on his face, she decided to play along. "Yes, Ben, I wanted you the second I saw you!"
He smiled slightly, then resumed tasting her. "So, does that mean you want to come?"
"That would be lovely," she sighed, enjoying the pressure of his wide mouth.
His mouth quirked at that. "Never heard sex described that way before."
"Then you're doing it with the wrong people."
"Oh?" his gaze turned hot. "And how many people have you been doing it with?"
"Not many," she said hurriedly, "and not in a long time."
"Good girl," he said silkily. "So, if I were to put my fingers inside you, would your cunt feel… full?"
"Yes!" she panted, so wet she was dripping onto the table now.
"Let's see then."
Arching her back as he slid two fingers inside her body, Rey realized that she had never really known sexual satisfaction until tonight. She was twenty-five and still basically knew nothing about sex and relationships. "Huh."
Ben stopped moving, lifting his dark head to look at her. "Rey? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," she said dreamily. "I guess I've just never felt this way before."
He held her eyes for an extended moment, amber striking against hazel. "Yeah, me too." And then he was fingering her again, sucking and teasing her slick opening until she was crying out his name in ecstasy.
Afterward, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. Needless to say, they skipped dinner that night.
——————
Rey grunted as she felt Ben leave the bed the next morning. He had been her heater since the sheets and pillows were strewn about the room. "Come back," she said hoarsely, throat worn from use. "I'm cold."
"Just a moment," he laughed, opening the bedroom door to fetch something from the living room. "Your cell has been going off for an hour straight."
"My cell?" she yawned. Then, "Oh, no." She sat bolt upright. "Wait! Don't—"
"Rey?" Ben called in disbelief. "Who the fuck is Finn?"
——————
A/N: I love Kingsman and always think about Rey being a punk with a heart of gold like Eggsy. I didn't include the spy angle, but I was able to visit The Black Prince, where scenes were filled for the movie, a couple years ago and have fond memories. Anyway, reviews are appreciated! <3
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(off my chest post.)
As soon as I turned the age of 27 last year it was like I've been awaken from a cruel false dream. I opened my eyes then boom I see 27 years of my life laid out in front of me wasted. Yes it took 27 effin years for me to wake up. I wasted all this years and now I'm suffering the consequences of not following my heart, now I'm suffering the repercussions for not realising my dreams sooner as well as pursuing them. I don't believe in myself enough to stand for what I really want so I let society dictate me. I dont love myself enough to believe that I have the capabilities to follow my dreams, luck wasn't on my side too,the odds were never in my favor. So yes I guess I blame both myself and the circumstances given to me on why I failed in life. I failed myself. Society failed me. The system failed me. Oh how I envy people who were able to realise their dreams when they were a kid. these people mostly turns out to be the successful ones in life while I'm left in shambles of not knowing what to do or having such a huge dream I knew I would never reach it. I wanted to become a supermodel but I'm not pretty and tall enough plus I'm from a country not supported by society on having supermodels. Then I wanted to be a rock star. Touring the world, playing the guitar, performing on stage. I can probably make this happen but once again I don't believe in myself and lack of support from family/society was what made this dream seem to get more impossible. I would like to pursue the arts anything from singing, dancing,writing ,painting,drawing etc but I let myself be influenced by what our society drills in my head everyday that there's no money with any of these endeavours so I never got serious to try to achieve greatness from these "useless, juvenile" dreams and plus you need God-given talent to qualify pursuing the arts and I don't have an ounce of it.
So as time goes by I continued to grow older like a dead leaf flailing around in the wind without a specific direction but downwards. But deep-rooted in my soul I knew what I wanted but I chose to stupidly ignore that little voice in my heart that tells me what to do. I to this day continue to beat myself up why I haven't even tried to listen to myself.
So what I did was to completely surrender myself to settle for a lesser,smaller dream that I could possibly reach according to the circumstances I'm handed with
I took up a course in college that I felt at the time would be something I would enjoy and easy,cheap enough to simply graduate and have that diploma just for the sake of it. When I got into the real world and became a full pledge adult for the first time ever I got hit by depression and that's when I first acknowledge that I'm not made for this at all but what I did instead of abandoning it was to try again and aim higher which is to have my own wings and to fly high in the sky and see the world. I held on to that dream. I went to school again. For a moment I had a purpose and for the first time I had direction. I thought I found myself as I try to get those wings. I thought that this will be my redemption. I made myself to believe that I'm meant to do this. I went above and beyond to achieve success. But alas I continued to be the chosen reject and once again odds weren't exactly on my favor and I have given up by the time I'm 27 years old. This is when it all crashed down on me I was chasing a dream gone dead all those years and basically wasted my youth as a result and gained nothing at the end. And I have to admit that i somewhat resent God for putting this dream to flourish in my heart but never gave me a breakthrough to even achieve it. I was left beaten and destroyed. I slaved myself away for nothing, experienced all those sufferings for nothing. I got nothing for all those sacrifices and hardwork I did. Literally all those blood,sweat and tears were for absolutely nothing at the end. I was utterly broken down,my heart was utterly crushed nothing left but broken pieces and a whirlpool of regret. If even this small, mediocre dream I settle myself for is still unattainable for me then my life is no longer worth living. I then proceed to wallow on self pity and resentment and went down to the worst depression I've ever experience in my life. Tears kept on falling like faucets in my eyes. Every streak of effort, energy, motivation ,hope left my body,mind and soul altogether. I turned ultimately dead inside. I don't have anything left in me to even pretend to continue fighting my way into this world. I can't even help myself to help myself. it's like I already died and what was left is just a hollow husk of my former self.
At 27 yrs old i went back to zero. I'm left with nothing to hope for, I didn't gain anything from all the things I went through. After Having the painful knowledge that the journey I made for myself all throughout my teenage to mid twenties is only to become of worthless dust and vomit at the end it made me inevitably bitter about life in general. I started acknowledging thoughts of dying for real. How I realized that it's better to be dead than to be alive, how I wish to have never been born at all. I missed all of these opportunities to win in life and I felt like giving up. Because Life is Suffering nothing more nothing less we will continue to suffer coz that whats life for this is the true meaning of life we are just put here to live so we can suffer and I'm not cut out for it I'm too weak to even restart again.
I realized alot of things. When I was a kid I was always looking forward to the future. I was foolishly, completely convinced that my life will get better as I get older and now that I'm older it turned out to be such a stupid thought coz life didn't get better it only gotten worse and it could only get worst from here on out.
Starting now I shouldn't hope for things to change for the better. It's dangerous to have a false hope and I swear to myself that I wouldn't let myself be fueled by false hope anymore.
And now that it's October I will turn a year older unless I cease to exist first.
I'm honestly scared of the future, now that I can see the true essence of it in its whole entirety.
At 28 I'm running out of time.
I missed the chance to get my life stable.
At 28 I'm entirely clueless on how to get my shit together and I don't even think I have the strength to improve myself. I felt like I just don't care anymore.
At 28 I should have already bought my mother a new house instead I'm stuck and rotting away in a room at her own old house.
At 28 I'm still miserable asf
Still bitter asf
Still dumb asf
Still doubtful asf
Still a loser asf
Let me discuss the thoughts I have about this song 28 of Agust D. This song single handedly describes the anxiety I feel for getting older. The fact that the age he pertained on the title of this song is 28 exactly the age I'm about to turn into soon just solidifies the strong grip it acquired to hold my heart and soul. I felt extremely lucky to turn 28 at the same year with someone as genius as him (tho his 27 international age) nevertheless I'm thankful about this.
Tho there are things that I'm honestly confuse about him having the same fears with someone like me who's a nobody without any single awards, recognitions, accolades or any kind of impact to the world, who's not loved and praised by millions nor have millions of money in my bank account, who doesn't have a big house,big cars nor big rings.
It baffles the living daylights out of me that a person like Min Yoongi who achieved so much in life would feel scared about not knowing his dreams is really about as he gets older. He basically achieved every single one of the dreams I have for myself. His overly set for life that his great great great great great grandchildren will be also set for life. His life wasn't the same like before. His life changed for the better . He earns millions of money by doing what he loves at such a young age. He simply won in life.
We are both 28 but the life I'm bestowed in is the utmost opposite of the life his bestowed in. I'm at the loser end of the spectrum while his in the winner side yet we share somewhat the same fears and anxiety about having to grow older.
This made me question if happiness is really just an illusion. well the genuine authentic euphoric kind of happiness.
Is existence all really just a one big mess with occasional ephemeral pleasure?
If a person who accomplished so much at only 28 still feels depression what's left for me then should I just go kill myself?
Alot of the reasons why I got into this level of depression is because I didn't fulfill anything Yoongi fulfilled.well I'm not really into fame so much but i hope i succeeded on not having to worry about whether I could buy a house or rent an apartment. Yoongi could buy a building for himself while I can't even afford a bedspace of my own
Yoongi could travel the whole world in a whim while I'm mostly stuck in the same place
The stark contrast of our lives is so immense I cant even get my head wrapped around it
My only dillema is that I'm afraid to die but I'm also afraid to live
It's been proven to me now that living in this world is not really living at all it's just purely surviving and I can't deal with this
I'd rather die than to be a slave to the system. And it seems like I don't even have a choice maybe to disappear is the only way out
I'm just not cut out with the cards I've been dealt with
If only I could voluntarily pull my existence out of here then I would do it in a heartbeat
I wish there is a stop button from all of these
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as an emerging lgbtq+ (i'm 'BT') guy i am so glad you're making the point you made in your last post. I've always gravitated towards Dean because he is so 'imperfect' in his queerness, like me. but he's not a uwu soft queer so apparently that bothers a lot of ppl on here? Especially younger queer women, I've noticed. But a lot of guys, cis and trans, struggle with being attracted to men so much in a way that is simply different (not better or worse) than (1/2)
being wlw, especially depending on one’s generation and region, etc. basically what i’m saying is a lot of the few queer men that there are in the fandom stay quieter as it is almost completely queer women dictating what is and what isnt, and not quite empathizing with the unique struggle many queer men have with internalized homophobia/being Unmanly for being attracted to men. hope this wasn’t too all over the place, ive had this on my mind for a Long time and i’m glad you brought it up. (2/2)
ps: I’m not trying to put down queer women for being a significant part of the fandom. I just really wish the environment of the fandom felt more like somewhere queer men’s voices can be heard better, considering the largest pairing is, needless to say, mlm
Well, first of all, welcome Nonnie. I take it you’re addressing this untitled post addressing intersectionality, representation vs tokenization, represented demographics and just general motivations of those in discussion, yes? (x)
You’ll find this is a longstanding topic of my blog, be it excavating creator commentary people have buried for their own motivations and talked down and around, or dual faceted issues.
(If you haven’t read the crosslinks on the post you’re addressing, you may want to read The Problem With Dreamhunter (x) It discusses exactly this issue, even if it was written over a year ago at that point, showing just how cyclic this issue is. It talks about MLM/WLW intersectional issues, migrating goalposts, a bunch of show stuff and some of Bobo’s sociopolitical commentary from 2003 about advancing LGBT representation through moderate incremental methods being proven effective at expanding the media presence/platform exponentially above liberal, or more severe/extreme styles)
But when it comes down to it, basically: Yeah, you right.
I didn’t just arbitrarily develop this opinion. I didn’t… just magically tune in to what the LGBT men that literally dodge fandom, for exactly the reasons you say, and know it’s because of the reasons you say – like that didn’t manifest. It came from leaving fandom (un)”safe” spaces. It came from engaging a great variety of LGBT males in real life, many of which engage the content. From observing how they spoke of the content in multifandom servers, or even *why* they chose to avoid speaking up.
And no, I personally didn’t get a read of you, like, insulting LGBT women for their part in fandom. Women engage social media for primetime TV fandoms at an exponential rate above men, so it’s almost unavoidable and it’s nobody’s fault really, but that says nothing for the perpetual habit of drowning out their voices to the fact that– well, they literally abandon engaging.
I’ve seen it enough times it *hurts* me. I shouldn’t *have* to pull my gay writing buddy out of holes to face this, and him still hide silently. I shouldn’t *have* to be the vein of news and information on the show to the bi male friend I have that refuses to touch this fandom. I shouldn’t *have* to even speak up about this. I really do want *you all* to speak up about this, because I can only speak so far, because you’re right: OUR JOURNEYS ARE DIFFERENT.
Hell, even a cis lgbt male vs a trans lgb(t obvious) male have entirely different journeys even though they’re both validly men. These battles are not the same. One community can speak up to defend another, and help hold them up and amplify them if there’s just not enough of them to project the way they need to, and this is something *greatly under respected* in this fandom. Nobody’s holding up the LGBT male voices when actually talking about representation. And you’re right, it’s mostly women, and you’re right, our path is different and our struggles and needs and wants and lives are different. But unless you take a considerable amount of time talking and sharing and learning personally the perspective of the LGBT male community, you’re not… really… helping them speak.
And let it be said, “holding up LGBT male voices” does not and should never equate to “despite having multiple LGBT men saying one thing, I found the one LGBT male saying the thing that matches what I want, who may or may not even actually be in the targeted demographic set of the character we’re discussing representation about, because it’s more than just being bi, it’s entire lives, paths and challenges– but you know, I found the ONE, so fuck the others.” That’s using your friends as tokens and cards. If you want to genuinely add to the conversation, what you do is you introduce your male LGBT friend to the other male LGBT friends and let them have a long conversation to talk out the sources of their disagreements before engaging in conversation.
But drawing a pretty base line collective from all people in the represented demographic, respectfully learning the majority wants and needs and struggles, and helping voice those is pretty key.
Women can sit here all day, and pass around things they’ve been told by other women are woke points, or things that sound progressive and good, and often sort of decontextualized from their purpose (be that the dresswear mentioned shortly hereafter, or what LGBT want/expect/SHOULD want or expect – but in the end, if you’re not sitting down and having dialogues – not just with one, or two, or even three LGBT men – but large handfuls and subsets, able to actually critically examine the differences in LGBT males of gen X, Y, or Z and their lives and stories – if you’re not doing that… If *that* isn’t the core of your discussion values, rather than pass-along buzz vibes– then you’re really not talking representation. You think you are. But you’re not.
There’s the uh. Thing. You noticed. About how women expect the men to engage.
When it comes to young queer women, I’m going to risk pissing some people off, but the long and short of it is (I could probably dig up the link but it’s been an eternity) a while ago they ran a psychological study to figure out why young women were attracted to yaoi, and gay porn, especially what is essentially stereotypical force-role type gay porn. It has to do with blooming attraction, primal fear, and trying to make the men more appealing in a way that does not intimidate them.
This later manifests into feminizing them, setting twink/bear roles that go beyond into top/bottom, and conflating it with penetration, position, power, dom/sub, fork/spoon, sometimes served with a dose of internalized misogyny being projected into the vessel of whatever twink/sub is positioned, and generally— like, kink culture. Often this is passed with narrowly progressive-masked arguments of “Men should be allowed to be feminine if they want!” rather than a genuine answer to, “Why do you perpetually heterosexually resize, or reframe, and enforce heterosexual structure onto characters that do not meet this mold, and why is that a personal gain to you?” because in the end– it’s a personal gain. And again, at that point it’s not about representation.
Now again, I’m not… shaming anyone for having a kink. But kink/fetish needs/wants have blurred themselves in as if to hedge on equal territory to discussing canon content. Or sprinkling the quite literal fetishized art (power to you if that’s your thing, I guess, even if I do bear discomfort over fetishization of any LGBT demographic, even by another LGBT demographic) and reasoning with dialogue that implies it as being representative, and inserting that into the representation discussion, which *literally* just makes the entire bog muddier, makes the LGBT men trying to speak more easily dismissed in a vat of “just women/fetishists”, it just– it’s Not a Good. I’m… personally not a fan of it. Like at all. A lot of it makes me angry tbh. So I don’t engage. I don’t browse fanfiction. I look at very little art.
Hell most of the people around here don’t even realize it’s actually a *minority* of LGBT men that choose to engage in penetrative sex, but it’s become a topic of outright obsession around here. There is so much simple… lack of awareness and discussion of the lives LGBT men lead, even by LGBT women because again – we don’t have your path. We can only listen to you. (And BOY have I gotten earfuls from my LGBT male friends absolutely going apeshit banana bonkers over fandom’s obsession with penetration culture, gender role enforcement while feigning it as liberation, and all kinds of other stuff. And that’s what I base most of my talking points on.)
Because if I’m going to talk representation, I’m going to talk about representing the demographic the character is supposed to represent, not molding him into a tokenized wash-over of every single person’s wants. If you’re an LGBT woman that can resonate with Dean Winchester, that’s great. Sometimes representation can be shared. But a character’s origin determines what demo he represents and not all of any given representative’s character’s attributes, methods, functions, anything – not all of it is going to meet any one person’s goals collectively, but the target demographic is inevitably closer to it.
Another point to raise is that it feels like people have lost track of *what* the representation battle is about. It isn’t just about any one person attaching to any one character. It’s about developing a TVscape that looks more representative of the real world, with a fair presence of PoC, of women, of LGBT people of all types, of the disabled community, of people that are even more than one of these, of people with different stories: people. About, well, normalizing it, because it should be normal. About saturating television enough that one day, and that day will not just be tomorrow per convenience, that people won’t be desperate for representation even vaguely in their wheelhouse, that they can turn on and see people of any intersectional type and go– wow, the world finally realizes we’re real. And that in that wide, realistic menu, yes, being able to turn a channel and eventually see someone *just like you*. A day when any show turned on has at least *someone* in your wheelhouse because every show eventually should have some sort of realistic spread, but if you find the *right* show, *there you are.*
That’s how it’s built. We don’t start by footstomping and tokenizing everyone to be vaguely representative of everyone or it doesn’t count because it didn’t work for *them*. We start by sharing truly diverse narratives, each unique to their own, just as diverse as straight stories are, maybe even more. That’s the only way you’re actually going to end up with a TVscape full of The Gays, and full enough to find *explicitly yourself* in there.
Deleting normalized, non-sensationalist text for lacking either visibility or flavor, even if you weren’t the intended demographic for it to speak to, is quite literally contrary to the entire fight.
and tbh?
This shit is why I hate shipping culture.
And I say that as someone who presumably “ships” Dean and Cas, if it’s shipping to address canon bullshit happening in front of you and just watch the show as it folds out without going into denial for *whatever* personal reason.
There’s a lot of well intended people, most shipping fandom is full of good beans, but as a collective group – skewed by sociopathically manipulated dialogues we can literally track the origins of – have been driven into much of the above while genuinely believing they were doing the right thing, in a long chain of being told this was what and how to fight for, without really stopping and critically examining the nuance of the conversation. Because why would you? Seems to be the popular gay thing to do – while a lot of bisexual people currently hide their commentary via reblog hashtags or hedge awkwardly into an anon box sideways.
That all said, it continues to be my focus. It will never change on this blog. I will never surrender to being pressured, be it by antis or bitters or people just wanting to argue, into pretending things that were text are subtext. I will not move that goalpost. You are real, and you are valid, and you are welcome in my inbox any time, Nonnie, confidentiality guaranteed. Like, DM too.
but lmao like shit, dawg. There’s a reason the LGBT guys I’ve had as writing partners as Dean literally refuse to play with another Cas. That’s not just because I’m a *super aweSOME auTHOr*, it’s because they recognize I do not come from the wing lost to fanfiction, to troll wars, or even to shipping culture, love of a ship be damned. I don’t try to force gender roles on them. I listen when they speak, and often, surprise many with the angle I ever enter discussion or listening from to begin with, because of spending so many years listening to begin with. It’s an intrinsic understanding of why they resonate with the content, not what I can pull some transformative art stuff on or wanting to *make* it into anything else to fit *my* molds. It’s because of being someone engaged to the male perspective, without the need to twist or change a character to be content with it, and being WILLING to hold those challenging conversations.
Listen first. Talk later. But never in front of or over the people you claim to be talking for.
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This was my Nana at my second birthday party!
She and my Papaw bought me a new swingset that year.
My mom gave me some old pictures the other day on my 21st birthday from my 2nd birthday party, so this picture of my Nana is 19 years old... that's wild.
I've been thinking a lot about my Nana and my Papaw and my mom. And I realized that most of the people around my age act the way they do (fucking crazy) because of their parents and the environment they were raised in. Most of them had parents who either wouldn't allow them to do things (or couldn't afford it) or the opposite, where they forced their kids to play a sport or like a certain thing. (The amount of fathers I've seen get pissed off when their boys don't want to hunt deer or play football... I cannot tell you! Extreme Christian men are fucking bonkers about their children not being exactly how they want them...)
And it occurred to me that I actually didn't really have to deal with that. Not to any extreme level anyway...
I've seen a friend cry and scream and have several mental breakdowns because her dad would steal her journals and read them and told her that as long as she lived under his roof she wouldn't keep any secrets from him. He told her that reading was a waste of her time and money and refused to let her mom buy her the books she wanted. He told her that art and writing were also a waste of her time and practically beat it into her head that all she would ever amount to was a housewife who stayed at home raising babies and caring for a manchild/husband.
And he absolutely hated my guts because I tried my DAMNDEST to get her out of that mindset and to get her to see that she could be or do whatever she wanted (she WANTED to teach elementary school). (It all ended up with us falling out and her reverting back to being his little puppet and following every order he spit at her.) And so he ended up forcing her to go to college on a small grant and a student loan... but made her take the nursing program. Which she ended up failing out of almost immediately because nursing programs are extremely competitive and she was an average student with barely passing grades. (Not trying to make fun of her, but the standards compared to her actual grades were EXTREMELY unrealistic, even she knew it. But her father insisted.)
She ended up dropping out, marrying a criminal (also one of the ugliest dudes I've ever seen, like no joke.. his creepy eyes make me nauseated) and had a baby with him. Now she's constantly back and forth from "I love him, we're a happy little family, I'm a stay at home mom!" and "I hate men, both parents need a job, I can raise my child by myself!"
It just kind of eats at me because while we were friends I could see her finally getting away from her dad and the shit he was constantly shoving her way. But as soon as we stopped being friends... it just seemed like she gave up. And I don't blame myself or anything like that (after all, you can't help someone who refuses to believe they need help)... but it was just crazy to watch it all happen and to think about it now with a new outlook and probably a good bit more maturity.
While we were friends she was more open and out there and we could go hang out with the "weird kids" and party in our own way (usually at the arcade like the nerds we were). We would paint together and make friendship books together and just have fun as kids should... but then I moved away and watching her social media was like watching someone take a leap off a cliff. She even tried to steal my fiance and my friends from me amidst all of this insanity... just out of spite and jealousy that I got away and she stayed trapped in her own personal hell...
And one day it was like her dad finally got into her head. She started hanging out with people we used to hate. She started giving out blowjobs like candy on Halloween (to the point that guys were asking her for blowjobs for their 18th birthdays). She was constantly partying and drinking and doing who knows what kind of drugs. She got married to a guy she met while he was on the run from the police and they ended up having a baby and she became a stay at home mom. (Which she tried her hardest to pretend was fine by her in the beginning, but later had a meltdown over it and got a job again).
She gave up everything she said she wanted to do. Every dream she ever had. And became exactly the person her father was always telling her she would end up being.
Watching all of this happen and seeing how she ended up... was is so fucking surreal to me. It's just so... fucked up.
I surely didn't have the BEST childhood and I plan to raise any children I might have in the future very differently than how I was raised. But I did have a mother and an amazing set of grandparents who made sure I could do whatever I dreamt of.
When I decided I wanted to try out for basketball, my mom signed me up and made sure I went to every practice and game when I made the team. (Though I only played for 3 years before getting bored of it.)
When I wanted to play Tball as a toddler, mom signed me up and made sure there was always someone to take me to my games.
When I started dancing and doing cheerleading my grandparents paid for everything I needed and took me to and from every event and cheer camp.
When my Uncle started learning the guitar they bought me a small one to practice on. When he later started learning the keyboard, they bought me one of those too. I wanted to learn everything he did.
My mom let me get a couple of piercings and dye my hair crazy colors and wear whatever I wanted (except for when it was WAY too revealing for my age, then I was only allowed to wear it inside the house.) She allowed me the freedom to pick things out for myself and make myself look however I wanted. My Nana actually put hot pink streaks in my hair when I was 8 and I loved having colored hair after that...
And during the periods that I didn't want to be active... they let me do that too. They bought me notebook after notebook and sketchbook after sketchbook. They let me write and draw and sing and dance to my hearts fucking content. My Nana kept a wall in her house covered in my art. She loved that I was an artist and made sure to always support me.
My papaw even bought me my own pair of roller skates because for literally 5 years straight the only thing I wanted to do on the weekends was go to the movie theater.. and the skating rink! He and my Nana let me roller skate THROUGH THE HOUSE so I could practice without being in front of everyone. And then they'd take me to the skating rink and let me skate for hours. And now that I think about it... it's kind of crazy that they just let me skate in circles for hours by myself and never once tried to force me to make friends or talk to other kids. As long as I was happy and content, they didn't care.
They supported me and loved me no matter what I wanted to do and I honestly feel like that's why I don't just sit back and follow orders. I don't just do whatever someone tells me to do (unlike so many people around me who I've seen try SO hard to fit their parents expectations, only to fail almost every time.)
I did feel that pressure a little bit. Everyone expected me to do good in school and go off to college (because I was always good in school and made good grades, so it became an expectation). And I think that's why it hit me so bad to quit college... because I felt like I was letting everyone down. But then my mom reminded me that she gave up college so she could keep me and that college really isn't for everyone (even people who are good at school).
My Papaw supported my choice (I could tell he was a little unhappy) but he never voiced that he was in any way disappointed in me. He believes that since I earned my scholarship by myself, then I get to decide what to do with it... which includes not using it.
My Nana fully supported my decision. She thought similar to my Papaw, that I had earned that scholarship on my own and so I got to decide what happened with it. She was also one of the only people who really knew how mentally and emotionally fucked up I was while trying to attend college and fully supported me leaving that stress behind if it made me happy to do so.
I've seen kids fall apart because they never had people like this in their lives. They were never allowed to be themselves or just enjoy whatever it was they liked. They were constantly pushed and pushed until they finally went over the edge.
And that's really fucked up.
And I'm really thankful for my mom and grandparents who always allowed me to be myself and make decisions for myself.
I'm really thankful to have been allowed to be me (at least for the most part). 💛
#nana#family problems#family#mom#grandparents#grandpa#grandma#papaw#thankful#bad parenting#good parenting#letkidsbekids#livehowyouwant#followyourdreams#notyourparentsdreams
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So, I don't usually do these, because I always felt that shipping oc's with characters from other fan works was socially frowned upon, but since I've been seeing a few of these around, I'll give it a shot. My OC shipped with Auron.
Auron x Texas.
Yes, Auron's current partner in crime, rather he'd liked to admit it or not. Their meeting was rather... comedic. Auron didn't really notice his co worker until he accidentally rested the elbow of his sheifed arm on her head. She was very short, Her height being 4'8. He looked down to find a short, albino girl with wolf ears, and a tail. The whole package. Everything else looked human, she just had a few furry parts to her. Another key thing about her is that she always came off as the, "edgy" type, for her preference in black lipstick, and eyeliner. When he did get to know her, Auron has always found her annoyingly chipper, and overly friendly. The two attended a funeral together once, and she wouldn't stop smiling. Seriously. How does someone smile that much at a funeral??? Auron asked her about it.
Her response: Usually when people die, they don't want people to mourn over them, there for I choose not to mourn.
She wasn't entirely wrong, speaking from his own experiences, however it wasn't exactly the majority opinion, as Auron had to keep the wife of the dead man from trying to punch Tex in the face. Tex was almost always very clingy in the irritating and physical sense. She liked hugging a lot. She would hug Auron everytime she'd see him, and it usually would last 5 minutes before he would have to eventually pull her off. As time went on, and they grew closer, Auron started to notice that something was very wrong with Texas. Her extremely chipper personality was used to hide some dark, twisted thoughts, feelings, and even experiences. He came to this realization when he went to visit her one night, and she didn't answer her door. She lived in a dormitory like area, where there was the bedroom, and then a small room next to it that was a kitchen, and the bathroom being against the the smaller side of the rectangular kitchen. It was a nice little place for someone who likes living alone, but it had its downsides, like paper thin walls. You could hear the inhabitants, and they most likely can hear you as well. After a minute or two of waiting, just as he turned to leave, Auron was startled by the sound of soft, female sobbing, coming from Tex's dorm. He knew for a fact that if Tex was crying, which he had never actually seen her do, something was horribly wrong. He immediately opened the door to find a mess waiting for him. Texas sat their curled up in a ball, hands grabbing at her hair and pulling, make up smeared, wrists bleeding from self inflicted bites. Scattered around her were drawings of morbid, violent, and just horrid depictions, along with words scribbled over them along the lines of, "Worthless", "Dead", "No Future", "I'm nothing." A common sign of depression. If there was one thing Auron always knew about Tex is that she had a talent for art. She did this thing that she called a web comic. Auron, not really being kept up in technology, never really knowing what it was, let alone reading it, thought nothing of it, but he had seen her art, and it was phenomenal. It really opened his eyes to what she truly was when he saw that beauty and talent turned into something so ugly and self degrading. When Tex finally noticed him, her reaction was just to try to hide herself in the comfort of her knees. Auron began snooping around, and grabbing rags, then pried Tex's hands from her head, and wrapped her wrist.
Auron: Moron. What were you thinking???
Texas: ...
Auron pulled her into an embrace, still holding the rags to her wrist.
Auron: Would you like to talk about why you bit yourself up like this? Or the sketches for that matter?
Texas: I-I don't know what to do! My art! My comic! I- the deadline to get chapter 9 out is tomorrow, and I thought I could just push through it in a day with enough effort, but I don't even have content! I don't have a script! I have no story, no art for chapter 9! I'm a fuck up! I'm stupid! I'm nothing! I-... I'm so sorry... you shouldn't have had to see me like this...
Auron: It's fine. You're human after all. I expect you to have emotions, breaking points. As for your problems. Tex, the comic is just a for fun thing, right?
Texas: Yeah...
Auron: Great. Take some time off until you get over your writer's block. The timely fashion of updates doesn't matter, the quality does. If you can't produce anything good, then step back and take a break. It's obvious that it's affecting your mental health. This will make you hate what you do, so step back from it. Take a break.
Texas: You're right, I've just... meh.
Auron: Don't be afraid to show your emotions around me. It shows me that you are human.
That night, Auron didn't leave Tex's side, mainly out of fear for what she might do when she's alone. This opened a pathway for future sleep overs. Auron didn't share his bed with many, but with Tex, it had become routine, and he didn't mind. He actually liked the cuddles. A few months later, he receives a message from Tex. That night, she wasn't with him, she decided to stay at her place to do some cleaning.
Message received at 1:23 am:
Texas: Hey. Are you awake?
Auron: I wasn't until you woke me. -_-
Texas: Oh sorry. I forgot that your ringtone is up all the way usually... I'm sorry. XD
Auron: This better be important if it warrants you texting me at one in the morning...
Texas:...
Auron: It's not that important, is it?
Texas: ... No comment...
Auron: Tex...
Texas: I'll leave you alone then.
Auron: Why do you do this!? Spit it out! I'm already awake!
Texas: Are you sure? It can wait until tomorrow.
Auron: Tex. Spit. It. Out...
Texas: I can't! You're making me nervous!XI
Auron: Why would you be nervous?
Texas: Because it's kinda personal...
Auron: Okay. Pretend I'm not here. Say what you have to say.
Texas: ... that is so unaffective when I'm staring directly at that message...
Auron: Point taken. Just tell me.
Texas: Okaaaaay! ...
The icon at the bottom that says that Tex is typing stays that way for 5 minutes.
Auron: So?
Texas: Okay. Here goes nothing. And when I say that, I mean here goes everything I could possibly hold dear in my life. XD
Auron: Are you going to say what I think you're going to say?
Texas: I would really really really REALLY like to punch you in the face!
Auron: Okay, that's not where I thought you were going with this.
Texas: With my face, gently... I Love you! You are amazing, and wise, and sweet, even when you hide it under your protective layers! I simply love you. End of story. And I was wondering if you would allow me to take you out to dinner! I'm going to go cry now, because I feel like I'm dying XD
Auron: I stand corrected...
Auron: O//_//O...
Auron: No.
Texas: No?
Auron: No.
Texas: Okay then... What? No reason why? Like I'm cool with it, if you don't like me like that, but still. At least give me a reason...
Auron: Okay. I'll tell you exactly why. Yeah. I like you. I think you're cute. However, I don't appreciate you waking me up at 1 in the morning to text me with a confession. You want a relationship? Fine, but take initiative and tell me to my face. Quit being a coward. -_-
Texas: Ouch. My feel goods. Anyways, I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow man. Sorry about this...
Auron: It's fine :) Sleep well, Tex.
Texas: You too bro <3
After Auron and Tex finish messaging each other, Auron goes back to sleep. The next day is pretty amusing. Auron waits for his partner. Half expecting she hopes to forget about the previous night. Auron hears running behind him, and turns to find Tex in a suit and tie running up to hi., screaming, "I love you, you sexy, sexy son of a gun!" She knocks his feet out from under him, and steals a very, very passionate kiss, but soon afterwards, causing Auron and Tex both to fall over to the ground. Because her tiny frame is too much for his bigger, heavier frame. Luckily Texas's arm was under Auron's head when they fell, so no brain damage was caused to the older male. Texas turns to Auron, half expected to be heated, and she wasn't wrong, just heated in a different sense. Auron's face was bright red, slight tears to his eyes, he bursts out laughing, black lipstick smeared on his lips.
Texas: What? You told me to take initiative!
His laughter fades to a light chuckle, and then he stops.
Auron: Wow. That was... cheesy.
Texas: Also clearly failed...
Auron: (Still catching his breath.) No it didn't.
Texas: So it actually worked!?!? YAY!
Auron: Just don't do that again. You took us both out in the process.
Auron pulls Tex into his lap, and the two share a proper kiss.
Auron: See. That in of it's self is enough for me.
Texas: Yeah, but it wouldn't be a confession from me if it wasn't stupidly cheesy and didn't make you smile.
Auron: It's missing something though.
Texas: And that is?
Auron: The amazing pick up line from last night.
Texas: Ah yes, you have good taste, my kind, gentle sir. I would really.
Auron: Yes?
Texas: Really.
Auron: Go on.
Texas: Really.
Auron:...
Texas: Really!
Auron: Hopefully this is the last, "Really."
Texas: Like to punch you in the face. With my face gently, romantically, and in other places besides your face.
Auron: Okay. Okay. Calm down. We haven't even had dinner yet...
Texas: Exactly. Dinner.
Auron is very flustered at his now girlfriend's sense of humor. Safe to say, they had a very romantic evening together. ;3
This is my contribution to OC x Fan work Characters. Hope you enjoyed!
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