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mylifeisactuallyamess · 3 years

Text

Epilogue

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: This is it. The last time I will post about this story (unless I visit them in a one shot.) I am so sad but so grateful at the same time, this fic got a lovely following and I appreacite anyone who took the time to comment/like/reblog any or all chapters. This fic spawned from a Writer Wednesday prompt months ago, so thank you @autumnleaves1991-blog for posting that picture of the brick arch and pond all those weeks ago! Here we go!

Warnings: PTSD mentions, war mentions, none of them are ok.

Word Count: 2284

Read the Epilogue here on AO3

Masterlist

The air was crisp, carrying the tang of the salty sea and wrapping it around you, ruffling your dress. You shielded your eyes against the dipping sun, seeing the light refract off the water as it heaved below you, the sounds of the waves crashing into the cliffs boomed up to you creating a sound like thunder. The tide was high and that meant they’d be back any moment. You looked back at the cottage behind you, the white walls and the pretty flowers were picture perfect, it was everything you’d ever dreamed, the makeshift hangar sat to the side and it housed the X-Wing you had from your time with the Resistance. Next to it was another larger more recognisable ship, you had some visitors and you needed to prepare Armitage before he saw them.

A giggle carried on the breeze that swirled around you and your face softened into a smile, first you could only see your daughter's head on the path as they came up the steep hill, her long bright red hair caught in the wind, the long tresses flowing around her and glowing with the bright light of the sun. She was giggling, looking down as she plastered her hands all over your poor husband's face. You stifled a laugh as he pretended to stumble, or maybe he really did because she kept shoving her fingers in his eyes.

“Phasma! I can’t see!” You heard him cry followed by more peals of laughter as she continued her assault. “Oh look! It’s Mummy. Hold on!” She squealed as he began to run, holding her legs in place on his shoulders, so she bounced happily full of laughter and smiles until he came to a stop before you. His chest heaved and he let out a loud huff. “You’re getting a bit heavy, little one!”

“Shush Daddy, I am not.” You cocked an eyebrow making a mental note of how much she sounded like her father. Armitage leaned in and gave you a kiss on the lips.

“Who’s here?” He asked quietly.

“Well, it’s Poe, Finn, Rose, Mitaka and….” You paused, not sure if he wanted to hear his name or not.

“And?” He pressed.

“And Ben.” You saw the blank expression fall over his face and you inwardly sighed. “Look they’re not here to cause trouble, the war is over, it has been for a few years now.” You ran a hand through your daughter's hair as she clutched your leg. “We barely see anyone. It's nice for them to drop by.” He moved away, putting a hand in his pocket while using the other to run through his hair. Even after all this time he kept it in the same style, just a habit you guessed or maybe he’d just never experienced another style.

“There’s a reason we don’t see anyone,” he said stiffly. You dragged Phasma with you, coming to stand next to him.

“Armitage, do you forget how I was the one who discovered Finn and Rose. I brought them to you.”

“And I ordered them to be executed and Finn…” he glanced down at his daughter. His hand resting on top of yours in her hair as she gazed at him with big green eyes. You knew he wanted to say Finn killed Phasma, but you felt like pointing out the war was responsible for everything that had happened. All these people had been puppets for someone else, made to believe in something that ultimately influenced their actions and choices.

“It’s over now.” You needed him to acknowledge that, the war was over. You supposed it would have been harder for him than the rest, being brought up and beaten into a person who should always strive for glory and control. Finn managed to break free, even Ben but then he had a loving family for the first few years of his life. He had a taste of normality, as did Poe, Rose had her sister until the evacuation of D’Qar. But Hux had no one, except Phasma and Mitaka and even then he was their General, their leader. He was alone for so long you didn’t know how to get him to see they were all just people now. What they had all been through was horrific, you just knew for Armitage, it was harder to adjust. He didn’t say anything else and you crouched down to Phasma’s level.

“There are some very special people in our house to meet you including Uncle Mitaka.”

“Me kaka?” She screamed in glee, fisting her hands under her chin in joy before tearing off to the house. Hux watched her go, a strange expression on his face. You stood, taking his hand and holding it tight. You made him look at you, feeling the stubble on his cheeks which he let grow now. The red dusting covered his chin and cheeks making him look rugged and even more handsome.

“They wouldn’t have come if they were going to be rude or start a fight or accuse you of things that happened years ago. They are here to see us, as a family. If they can forgive Ben they can forgive you.”

“But Ben is clearly a new man now…” he started and you cut him off by putting a hand over his mouth.

“And look at you. No uniform, no hat, you have a daughter, Armitage, you live in a bloody cottage.” He sighed against your hand and you knew you had won this round.

You stepped away from the cliff edge tugging on his hand and he reluctantly came with you, dragging his feet slightly. You went through the back door Phasma had left open and shut out the dusk that was settling on the cliffs around the cottage. Voices plus your daughter's laughter came from the main living area and you squeezed Hux’s hand reassuringly before walking in. A chorus of greetings met you both and even though you’d said hello before you went round and hugged them all again, pleased to see Hux shaking hands with Poe and Finn. You held your breath when it came to Ben who was sitting in your biggest armchair with Phasma perched on his lap.

“Armitage,” Ben said and held out his hand. The moment stretched for longer than you liked but eventually your husband reached out and shook it. Everybody sighed with relief and you asked if anyone wanted a drink, taking Hux with you into the kitchen. He helped you prepare some drinks in silence, listening to laughter and banter from the others mingled with your daughter's cries of joy as someone was clearly tickling her. Hux carried the drinks and you handed them out, a pleased feeling began to fill your chest as Poe engaged him in conversation. Mitaka stoked the fire and a flare of heat blazed into the room making it more cosy.

“How has he been?” Dopheld asked you quietly.

“The nightmares seem to have eased, it helps that he has Phasma with him nearly all of the time,” you looked over seeing Armitage still in conversation with Poe, your daughter now nestled in his arms sucking her thumb as she gazed at the curly haired pilot. “She seems to know what he needs when he needs it.” You felt a hand on your shoulder and threw a smile at Finn. “Hey you, how’s the Trooper Rehoming going?” He shrugged.

“There were a few we managed to trace back to their families but the majority have made their own settlement out on Yavin 4. You should come visit sometime.” He offered.

“I’d like that but…” your gaze flickered to Armitage. “Maybe it will be just me and Phasma….” You trailed off making a face. “Maybe not,” you chuckled.

“You would all be welcome,” he reassured you before heading over to sit with Rose. Your gaze drifted to Ben who seemed captivated by the fire, but you recognised the signs. The clenching of his fists, the tightness in his jaw, the vase on your mantelpiece fell and shattered drawing everyone’s attention. The fire flared behind you and you looked up to see Hux clutching Phasma to him and backing away slowly. Poe went to approach Ben as the very walls of your house began to shake matching the quivering of your insides but you threw out a silent hand to stop the pilot. You didn’t say Ben’s name, not wanting to startle him instead you crouched before him, placing a calming hand over his forearm and his hazel gaze swung to you.

“Come on, I need you to look at my X-Wing. I think it has a faulty fuel line, Armitage says the circuit breakers are burnt out but we aren’t mechanics.” You could hear the house settling as you pulled his attention away from his thoughts. You didn’t wait for an answer, taking Ben’s hand and shooting a look at Hux. He wasn’t happy, you could see it in his face and the set of his shoulders but you’d rather Ben put his mind to good use than accidentally destroying your house. He had to duck slightly through the low doorways as he followed you outside. Your feet didn’t falter, you’d travelled this path so many times in the dark when you couldn’t sleep. Every time you’d calmed Armitage from a nightmare you had come in here, just to tinker to take your mind off everything. Sometimes it worked, other times you came in here and cried, releasing your pent up emotion alone.

“Here,” you gestured to the hangar and stepped aside. “Wreck it, tinker with it, just don’t ruin the inside of my house, please.” He nodded, moving to touch your tools on the bench gently with his finger tips.

“You come in here often.” It wasn’t a question.

“It is my place to spend time on my own and process everything that happened,” you confessed knowing you couldn’t hide anything from him. “I am coping better than Armitage.”

“Are you though?” He asked bluntly and you blinked. You thought you were, dealing with Phasma kept you occupied during the day, you stayed up late most nights keeping an eye on Armitage so you didn’t have much thought space until you knew he was ok.

“Yes, I am keeping myself busy.” Ben smirked at your reply.

“Looking after two other people does not mean you are coping.”

“Yeah well, someone’s got to do it.” You turned and walked back to the cottage. The conversation was still flowing in the living area but you walked past to go to the kitchen and maybe prepare some food. Armitage appeared within moments, he tried to hide his displeasure but you could read him like a book.

“How’s Phasma?” You asked.

“Asleep on Mitaka.” He replied and you nodded, opening the cupboards trying to find your guests something to eat but you didn’t realise your hands were shaking until Hux gently slid his over yours. “It’s ok,” he whispered, coming up behind you. “He will be gone soon.”

“I really wanted to be ok with him, I just want to be ok.” You looked up as Mitaka appeared at the kitchen door and you smiled at the way Phasma’s arms hung over his shoulder, her little face buried in his neck and he pointed to the stairs. “Just take her straight up, she’ll stay asleep when you lay her down.” He nodded and slowly made his way up the wooden steps. You quickly wiped your damp cheek but Poe then appeared and you felt Hux’s increasing frustration that he couldn’t comfort you in private.

“We’re going to head off in a bit, we need to drop Finn off at the settlement. Do you guys need anything? I need to swing this way on the back so I can grab some supplies?” You nodded enthusiastically, already rattling off a list, since the X-Wing refused to start, you were stuck with what you could find here and in the small local market.

“Ok wow, maybe I’ll get you some spare parts for that ship of yours, if you want I can bring BB8 next time?”

“No need.” Rumbled Ben as he stood in the doorway. “I fixed it, loose connection so it couldn’t connect to the engines.”

“Thank you Ben. Alright out go, too many massive men near my tiny kitchen,” you ushered them out, including Mitaka when he chose that moment to come down the stairs. Finn and Rose were already outside looking up at the stars as everyone filed out and the goodbyes started. Ben was last, enveloping you in a big hug with a quick knowing squeeze before he headed to the Falcon. Poe clapped Armitage on the shoulder promising he’d visit more often, Mitaka echoing his sentiment.

“Just be careful, all of you,” you called. They all waved as they disappeared up the ramp and you felt Armitage put his arm around your shoulders.

“As much as I disliked them all at one time, I’m glad they visited,” he said in a soft tone.

“I’m sorry, but seeing Ben slip like that….” You put a hand to your throat feeling the familiar constriction in your chest. “Just brought back memories,” you whispered.

“We’re all broken, one way or another.” You looked up at your husband. “But I wouldn’t want to try and repair myself with anyone else.”

“I love you Armitage.”

“And I love you and our quiet life and our daughter.” You leaned into him accepting the kiss before letting him lead you back inside the warmth of your cottage.

After all, war does not determine who is right. Only who is left.

#general hux x female reader #armitage hux x female reader #star wars fanfiction #echoes of the heart #kylo ren x female reader #armitage hux x you #general hux x you #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess

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sinqrowithascythe · 3 years

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Torn Families, a RWBY story

Hello there! it has been a few days now and the story is ready, so here it is!

Just a warning first though, this story does feature gore, character deaths and angst.

Everyone had their reasons for attending Beacon academy, and most would tell you without so much as a second thought.

“As a girl, I wanted to be just like those heroes in the story books... Someone who fought for what was right, and protected people who couldn't protect themselves!” Ruby Rose, 15yr old combat prodigy and leader of team RWBY.

Others, however, aren’t as comfortable in disclosing the truth about their circumstances, like: The beautiful, yet closed off Blake Belladonna, Faunus in hiding and secret Ex-White Fang agent.

“The White Fang is hardly a bunch of psychopaths. They're a collection of misguided Faunus.”

Most would assume that this is where the list ends, but there is another. A third option, or category, where they’ve been truthful but they just haven’t shared the full truth.

This is where the scraggly hero of our fable is found.

When asked for the reasons behind which Jaune Arc has strived to be a Hunter and train in Beacon (which is a regular occurrence among the student body, it’s pretty obvious why), our bumbling blonde will reply with something along the lines of “To become a hero” …. “To become a great Hunter, like the warriors in my family” or “To help people” which is true….

But…there’s more to it, there always is.

Rarely does someone ever question the reason he chose this path or after any event that led to such a decision, but it does happen occasionally. Some of the first conversations with his friends and even Ms. Goodwitch herself raised the question, with Jaune himself being quick to dismiss it or just repeat himself. Forcing the subject to be left alone question, with, replacing the young Arcs would-be interrogators interests with dissatisfaction and a quick change of topic. This is where the truth remains hidden, a burden laid heavily on our young Knight’s shoulders, where he intends to keep them.

But that wouldn’t make an interesting story, so here we go!

This tale sheds light upon that which our very own Jaune Arc would keep hidden, partially for the sake of his friends, but also to keep Jaune from crying himself to sleep… again…

Long before Jaune was launched from the school’s cliff faces into the emerald forests or the acquisition of his “Vomit Boy” moniker, as courtesy of Yang, the Arc found a burning resolve to fight the creatures of Grimm and protect those who could not protect themselves that rivalled the very star he stood under.

The Arc family estate was a large, dark brick house held deep within a forest, found on an island located beyond the western coast of Sanus. Close enough to still be considered a part of the kingdom, but also far enough for people to be left in relative peace from large city environments, bandits and any extremely dangerous Grimm.

Here, the Arc family lived and prospered, laughed and loved for days and years on end, with the only real worries being the evil bath times and dreaded bedtimes, family’s patriarch receiving minor wounds from guarding the small island village (But everyone just said he looked cooler anyway, so it’s a win!) or the sisters engaging into yet another fight over something that seemed to shake the very foundations of reality to them at the time.

“That’s MY hairbrush!!”

“You have, like, 10, just let me borrow this one!”

The house was run by the matriarch and the eldest of the sisters when their father was away, keeping Grimm from presenting danger to the village where they lived. The younger sisters and Jaune often played their days away, when their mother wasn’t home schooling them in the study where she spent most of her time, even outside the education of her children.

One sunny, beautiful day, with the sun was streaming through the leaves and trees and bringing light and life to all the woodland, waking to every insect, animal and plant found within, this family would be shattered.

The green glow of the forest created a feeling similar to a protective aura of warmth and protection. Here, the four youngest Arcs find themselves running past all manner of compassionate and cool streams with looming, yet comforting trees, hiding amidst the natural playground formed by the rocks of landslides long past and prickly piles of twigs that once held strong to their larger companions. The day was not unlike any other the children had been allowed to previously play in, perfect.

The juvenile Arcs were playing their usual rounds of “Hide and Seek” or “Tag” or some of their own invention, when the eldest of the assembled four found an oddity, one which had never caught her attention before. The Arc estate held no boundaries, save the forest itself as it was separated by a long stripe of a field before another forest began, not five meters away from their own, yet the children had never travelled, nor noticed this odd circular emptiness beyond their own patch of trees. “Yeah, that is weird” The three younger members of the Arc clan agreed, “Let’s try playing in that other forest! I bet there’ll be even better hiding spots and even bigger trees to play in!”

And so, they did just that.

Back at the Arc family homestead

The eldest four daughters of the house were treated to a rather large shock while preparing lunch as their mother had, seemingly from no-where, screeched “NOO!” like a banshee might and flung herself out of her chair, falling to their kitchen floor. You see, Jaune’s mother was paralysed, on the account that after her thighs reached halfway down, they were missing, an incident that predated Jaune’s memory and of which she refused to speak, hoping she never had to tell her children and shatter their innocence. And though it placed her within a wheel chair that stopped her from performing the tasks that the oldest of the Arc spawn find themselves occupied with most days, her smile was as radiant and genuine as when her first child was born, finding real purpose in her role as a mother.

Each did their best to help their fallen mother, only to be thrown aside, much harder than they even knew their mother could push. “One of you, run to the village wall as fast as you can, find your father, tell him that Jaune and the triplets have left the stave!”

“Why?” “What does that mean?” “Huh?” Each questioned, their faces twisted with confusion and fear.

“Just GO! Right now! We don’t have time!” The oldest among the females of the home all but roared at her children, her terror evident on her face, scaring the 4 younger women. Pushing her fear aside, the eldest to ran out the door and sprinted down the trail into the town, where the guard and her father stood vigilantly, while her younger two sisters helped their mother back into her chair and checked to see what had happened.

“Mom, what’s happening?” “You scared us” “Why’d you tell Saph to get dad?”

“I’m fine, but your siblings are in danger…”

“How? We thought they were playing outside” “Yeah, they play in the forest every day! Why’s it so dangerous all of a sudden?”

“Hmmmmm…. The forest that surrounds the house is… special, you’ve seen how there’s something of a circle-like-field around the house cutting us of from the rest of the woods?” She questioned, obviously impatient and uncomfortable, much to the dismay of her daughters, never before seeing her so scared in their lives.

“Yeah” “uh-huh” They replied in kind.

“Well, your mother has a special power and can sense, and almost see, what happens in this circle, if you can imagine” Chuckling the last part, the nerves still very present in her voice. “Normally, your siblings always play in this circle, where it’s safe and where I can see them, but, because we live so far from town the woods next to ours can be filled with scary, dangerous creatures. I don’t know why, but, the triplets and Jaune have wandered into that forest and your father needs to find them, before something bad can happen.” looking away through the kitchen window, into the picturesque scene of the serene forest outside.

Meanwhile, Jaune and his elder sisters were playing a renewed game of tag in their new playground, their eldest sister rushing for her father, while the three under her found comfort in their mother, as a new found fear grew for their youngest sibling’s lives. This new version of tag involved a “Strength in Numbers” strategy, where the title of tag didn’t pass on to another player after contact, but spread so that the match only ended when everyone was ‘it’, basically creating two teams of ever-growing chasers and continually dwindling chase-ies.

Jaune, despite taking part and enjoying himself immensely in the game, found himself growing rather nervous, as he could have sworn, he had heard his mother mention not to go into the forest beyond their own at some point before, but none of his sisters could remember and said he just imagined it. Which inevitably led to them teasing him and saying he was a “Scaredy cat!” which, to a seven-year-old boy, was an offence of the highest order. So, with new resolve and determination, Jaune played with his sisters in the forest, running deeper and deeper into the unknown woods, finding a new and magical parts of the surrounding nature with each new game.

Nothing, it seemed, could go wrong for out four young Arcs, however, we all know what follows these kinds of observations.

The fight had started as nothing more than a simple debate. “I SO DID tag you!”

“Nu-uh! You only got my dress!”

“Did not! I tapped your shoulder! You’re it too now!” “Nu-uh” “So, too!”

This repeated for a few minutes, the two eldest of the triplets bickered back and forth until…

“Jaune!” Both shouted in unison, the fire in their eyes and voices startling the poor boy “Y-yeah?” His anxiety growing, as each girl looked ready to throttle one another all the way home.

“I totally got her, right!?” “No, she sooo missed me, you saw right!?”

“Uhhh…” Was his only response. Truth be told, Jaune hadn’t seen the incident in question, he was too busy trying not to get caught himself, he only came up to them when he saw they were fighting again, wanting to help.

“C’mon! I’m fine, right!?” “No, I definitely caught her!”

Jaune was not comfortable in this situation. In fact, he was scared, scared that his sisters were fighting and felt useless that he couldn’t do anything about it. This is until an idea came across his mind.

“What about Rock, Paper, Scisso-!” “AAAGGGHHH!!!” The high, piercing wail that blocked Jaune’s solution had come as a shock to everyone. They were all frozen in place, the fear and pain that filled that scream had turned them all to stone. And a sudden realization donned upon Jaune, one that only seemed to strengthen the anxiety currently lacing his blood.

“W-w-wait, th-there’s only three of u-us here…” Upon a quick count, they found that they were, indeed, one sibling short. “The scream must have come from her! We have to find her, she’s in trouble!”

“Maybe she just found a big spider! She’s terrified of them!” The oldest of the group stated, a fact which was well known within the Arc household.

“We just have to find her and get her away from wherever she found it!” The younger of the girls offered. This conclusion helped each of them relax, as spiders were the most dangerous of the creatures that they knew to inhabit the forests that surround their home. It brought them comfort, but they weren’t in their woodlands anymore.

They moved quickly towards the origin of their sister’s scream, until they unfortunately found her.

In a small secluded area of the forest, a clearing in the trees where the river widened considerably and was surrounded by large stones that easily dwarf the giant that was their father (as far as they were concerned), where the sun seemed to shine atop the water so bright that you could swear it was fragmented like the moon and resided in the river itself. This was where they found her.

However, the beauty of nature wasn’t what made them stop, nor was it the sight of their sister happily frolicking in the water after overcoming her original fear and relief flooding the trio of loving family members. No, it was the exact opposite to all those beautiful and much more preferable sights (Hell, they’d prefer to have found a spider, really).

What stood in the clearing, over their sister, was a monster.

A monster so dark, it made the moonless night sky seem bright. With markings so red, the blood that splattered its maw seemed pale by comparison. All of this packed onto a fur-skinned nightmare product between man and wolf. And their sister… stuck underneath.

No, stuck wasn’t the right word.

The creature didn’t hold her down, it didn’t need too, the girl below it simply couldn’t move. She was missing large chunks of her little body. They could see her shoe on the other side of the clearing, her foot still occupying it. A few feet from her there was some bloody assortment of meat, maybe something from inside, no-one could tell. Her neck had also seemed to disappear and had replaced itself with bloody chunks of something.

Each child, each one that still had a beating heart, remained completely still. No movement, no thought and no emotion, still enough were to make a statue jealous. The shock they felt was all they could feel, their brains refusing to process the sight before them. The first to break free of the paralysing chains holding his mind was Jaune, still looking into the large, half lidded and dull eyes of his older sister. The eyes that had once been so full of colour and everything right with the world, Jaune had found comfort and happiness in those eyes’ countless times before, being the two youngest of the family had created a close and tight bond between the two. And now, they laid in the red, stained grass, upside-down, staring at him with nothing, endless nothing, a perfect void, drained of any and all life.

Fear and sadness welled within Jaune, faster than the tears that had decided to occupy his eyes could, with his sister’s emotions following in turn.

The negativity had come crashing out of them in waves, comparable to a landslide, only cursing them further. This alerted the creature, its posture bolting upright slouching over the corpse of the young girl turned lunch. It turned at the waist, revealing just how long its arms really were, easily twice Jaune himself, each one holding a different end of the girl’s right arm. What was most terrifying was its canine-shaped head. The lupine resemblance almost uncanny, the bloody maul full of teeth as long as it’s claws and wet with a liquid that Jaune tried his best to forget the source of. The ears atop the skull of the creature pointed toward the sky, looked sharp and swivelled around, until stopping, pointed at the children.

What scared them the most were its eyes, the cold, harsh eyes that were the antithesis of its prey. Where the girl’s eyes had been full of life, joy and hope, the creature’s own orbs reflected hate, despair and death. It’s fitting really, that the eyes of love and hope had been filled with the deepest and most alluring of azure blues and the ones that killed them were as red and terrifying as hell itself would be.

The creature dropped its piece of lunch on top of the rest of its forgotten meal and lowered itself onto all fours, its impossibly long arms stretched forwards and its rear in the sky behind it, as a low yet rumbling growl escaped from between its teeth. Now, instead of pure shock rooting our children to the ground, it was the very fear and anxiety that told the beast they were there. And, in the space it took for Jaune let go of the breath his fear forced him to hold, the creature pounced.

In the few precious seconds, it took for Jaune to turn and push his sisters, the nightmare before then had covered the distance between them and stood right behind Jaune. This registered for Jaune as three large, ragged, diagonal cuts in his tiny back. Falling into the grass of the forest, quickly watching the green around him fill with his own red.

The creature ran after the girls, desperately attempting to flee, knowing its second victim had no chance of moving now. The two remaining girls were screaming and running, terrified of the lupine monstrosity behind them, not knowing that the very fear fuelling their escape them was exactly what made them even more delicious prey.

Jaune watched from his position, chin first in the dirt, as the beast caught up to them and doubled their pace, springing forward and turning to face his sisters, seeing the very same claw that had Jaune glued to the ground tear one of them in half, before she could even stop running. Her pieces staining the grass red in front of her remaining sister. The final sibling came to a stop before the stalking nightmare. Sobbing messily, she looked up from her tattered sister into the eyes of the monster that killed some of the best people in her life and seemingly paralysed her only brother. She began to beg, praying to the brother gods that, by some miracle, some stretch of the universe, that she would survive and make it home to her loving mother, sisters and father.

Her prayers and begs fell upon deaf ears as the beast shot forward, grabbed her temples between the daggers that made up its teeth and separated the top half of her head, sounding off with a sickening crunch mixed with a strangled cry of pain and torment.

And just dropped her body to the ground, discarding her like a toddler drops a toy they’re bored with.

Jaune watched the entire scene in front of him, unable to move or even think, terrified beyond all action or comprehensible thought, not that the he would have been able to move anyway, as the creature made its way closer to him, no longer moving in leaps or flashes, but walking, as its prey was rendered immobile by the large injury in its back. Jaune closed his eyes, tightening them as he braced for the pain he knew was coming, just as it had come for his sisters.

Jaune was so focused on biting back anything he felt and so drowned in his own fear and blood, that he didn’t hear the gut-wrenching scream of agony and desperate sorrow. Nor did he hear the heavy foot falls as something approached him and the beast, racing from elsewhere. What he did hear was the sound of his father’s shield deflecting the bloodstained claws, he heard and watched as his father, blinded by pure animosity and heartache forced the creature of death back and, eventually, decapitate it. In that moment, time had seemed to freeze, Jaune saw the fury and heartbreak on his father’s face, twisted into a cruel grimace, the image burned into his memory, alongside the corpses of his sisters.

Time only began to move again as Jaune’s father let out another cry, louder than all his previous screams, as he began to hack, slash and break any part of the Grimm before him, only stopping when its corpse had fully dissipated, as all Grimm do.

Only then did his father stop, drop his weapons and fall to his knees, weeping at the loss of his four youngest children, screaming and sobbing with his face in the dirt, almost seeming to burrow into it, wanting to find the blood of his children. Jaune watched as his father broke apart, small pieces at a time, tears flowing down his face, almost unending. But, as all things must ends, so too did the tears, sniffles and sobs of the town guard, his face steeled into a grimace of loss and sorrow, the piece of himself being replaced with a resolve, a vow to return his children to their home and never let thing happen again.

The Patriarch of the Arc family stood to survey the damage done to his blood. And here he froze, seeing the unsteady rising and falling of his son’s chest, missing pieces being filled properly again as new tears of joy and relief flood the father’s features. Sprinting to the wounded boy’s side, screaming his name and asking question he already knew the answer to, Jaune’s father dropped to his knees once again, but this time to help his damaged son, searching himself and the land around for any way to comfortably bring his son home. With the frantic search proving to be utterly fruitless, he simply, yet gently, picked Jaune from the ground and placed him on his unarmed shoulder.

Jaune’s father began the trek back to the family home, creating false promises, repeating apologies and crying, for the duration of the trip, moving as fast as possible, without causing the silent boy on his shoulder any more pain that what was already silencing him.

Jaune, however, heard none of these promises, “sorry” ‘s or sobs, only seeing the gleaming, blood-spattered shield, collapsed around the sword at his father’s hip, only able to focus on the warmth his father spread and the thought “That would have been useful” while staring at the blade’s handle, before the pain took his consciousness from him.

Jaune spent the next few days drifting to and from the conscious world.

He knew that he had been taken home, he remembered hearing gasps and cries upon his return, pain from the dressing of his wounds and more crying. Curiously enough, he also heard shouting, which would be normal enough in a house of ten... now seven. But this was different, most shouting normally came from his sisters, arguing about one thing or another or when his parents needed to discipline them, these bouts of shouting, however, came from his parents. They seemed to be arguing over something called “aura…?” Jaune wasn’t sure what if was or even if it was a word, but he did hear his mother scream “I CAN’T LET WHAT HAPPENED TO ME HAPPEN TO THEM, ESPECIALLY HIM!!” To which his father pleaded. “CAN’T YOU SEE IT ALREADY HAS, WE CAN’T LEAVE HIS LIFE IN DANGER JUST BECAUSE YOU FEEL HE SHOULDN’T KNOW ABOUT YOUR PAST OR THR WORLD!!” This is where the screaming stopped, hearing only loud and quiet sobbing and whispering coming from wherever the shouting had. All he really knew was that it scared him.

Jaune also remembered a doctor coming from town once or twice during those days. It was probably more, but he couldn’t stay awake half the time, what with the pain in his back knocking him out every few minutes after he woke.

It wasn’t until a week and a half had passed since the deaths of his family members that Jaune regained consciousness properly. He awoke to the tearstained face of his mother, the tears seeming to have cut long furrows down her face. She almost squealed with joy upon being woken up by her son trying to brush the tears from her face, the pure elation of her son being alive and awake causing more water to leaks from her eyes.

When the rest of Jaune’s remaining family burst into the room, each had similar reactions upon seeing his mother hugging him gently, with him awake this time. Which was then preceded by the inevitable questions, Jaune explaining everything, each detail clear in his mind, when the tears from his own eyes didn’t impede his speech as the emotions finally caught up to him. Often his family sat together for hours at a time, waiting for Jaune to finish crying before he continued.

No harsh accusations followed his tale, nor any blame, simply hugs, tears and promises from his family.

After that day the house flowed back into normalcy, albeit quieter, until three full years had finally passed. The wounds Jaune had received were not lethal nor debilitating, the claws not digging deep enough and missing anything important along his spine, “a small miracle!” The town doctor had claimed.

The town’s people had helped organise and set up, even pay for the funerals. Everyone knew the Arc children and none showed any particular hatred, only the same small loving-malice that followed mischievous children’s pranks and activities. Any and all real hate was directed towards the Grimm that resided in the forest, evident by the furious stares many levelled towards the trees beyond thew village walls.

Eventually, the dull gleam that seemed to cover the eyes of each family member, the same gleam that held the stars and oceans contained within their eyes at bay, disappeared as they could finally move on.

But, never forgetting.

Whenever the children played, they were always supervised, never left alone. Their father had managed a change in occupation and now worked from home as a writer of sorts. Their mother had grown more possessive of her family and Jaune’s elder sisters followed this attitude when it came to him, never letting him be by himself. At first, Jaune was okay with this, even feeling happy and safe from this caged lifestyle due to having seen the reason for its inception.

However, this did not last. Whenever Jaune had asked about the creature, his father only bitterly replied to ask his mother, to which she would say “an evil creature, but, as long as you stay here, you’ll be safe and not have to worry about it”. This never sated Jaune’s mind, but, was the only definition either parent would ever give him. When Jaune would ask to be trained like his father, to protect and kill the “Evil creatures” in the forest, his mother would shoot the idea down in the exact same way, forever denying combat to her remaining children. On this, his parents agreed and Jaune began to lose his feeling of comfort in his protective cage.

Jaune would eventually learn more of his family’s legacy through omitted records of their deeds in the study and from stories his mother told her children and discovers his own drive to become one of the Arc heroes, prompting him to become a Huntsman, despite his great lack of knowledge on the topic (What’s worse is that he doesn’t know just how much he doesn’t know about it).

He finds a way into Beacon and creates some of the best memories he’s ever had, the best friends he’s ever had and even a new family.

And everything happens as we know it will. Friendship. Growth. Happiness. Accomplishment. The Fall. And new beginnings.

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

Hiya again!

thank you for reading my first actual piece of RWBY fanfiction. I made this concept up a few years ago, back when I was (possibly) obsessed with why Jaune knew so little of the world around him, despite a lot of it being vital to being a Huntsmen, So i wrote this little number (I don't know why i made it so dark of a story, but eh).

After rediscovering it, I thought I'd fix it up and post it here and thus, here we are indeed.

I know this doesn't answer how he got into Beacon, but that's not the point of the story in the first place. Please leave any notes of criticism, I'd really love to hear what you though about my story

Anyway, Thank you so very much for reading my work.

#jaune arc rwby #jaune arc #rwby #arc #arc family #hurt #death #gore #saphron cotta arc #saphron arc #comfort #fanfic #fanfiction #dark

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mountphoenixrp · 2 years

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We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

Kim Jiwoo, who is known by no other name, a 22 year old daughter of Arawn. She is a student and florist at Blossoms of Yggdrasil.

FC NAME/GROUP: kim jiwoo loona CHARACTER NAME: - AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 20 october 1999, 22 PLACE OF BIRTH: seoul, south korea OCCUPATION: student, part-time florist at blossoms of yggdrasil HEIGHT: 160cm (5'3") DEFINING FEATURES: flowing hair, impressive athletic abilities.

PERSONALITY: jiwoo is a kind, loyal, honest, polite and passionate humanitarian who strives to see the best in others. some would say that she radiates sunshine that she seems like spawn from sun or flower goddess not daughter of the underworld. sadly is quite naïve, always believing in the best of people, and places the needs of others above her own, becoming apologetic when she feels she has let someone down. jiwoo hides her feelings of fear and sadness while encouraging her humans friends to express themselves in her place, only the dead ones tend to the know the truth as she feels most comfortable talking to the non-living.

HISTORY: Once upon a time, her mother fell in love with a stranger for one rainy night and that’s how this strange little girl came to be yet there was another love before her godly father. Kim Dan-bi was married woman at one time, she was happily married to sweet man named Jiwoo, he was mortician who help grieving families plan their funerals with such care and consideration. Danbi was florist who would create flower arrangements for any occasion, one day the two as they worked together on one funeral, soon they bonded, fell in love and got married. It all felt like fate brought them together yet sadly fate decided to take him away, despite his sunshine deposition he hide the fact he was dying from terminal illness and that he couldn’t bear any child of his own until he reveal this dark secret a day before their wedding. Danbi decided to stay with him to very end, making his short life & splendid one. The married couple live, laugh and love to the fullest until he died. The recent widower look back fondly on their memories together, remembering his smile, always finding light in the darkest moments. It was only few weeks after the funeral, while Danbi was mourning at her late husband grave, a supposedly man offered a umbrella and some kindness. The rest of the love affair was kept hidden, only the god of underworld and Danbi know the truth. He blessed her with a child to fill the empty hole inside, to give all that love she had to offered to someone special. She gave birth to a daughter named her Jiwoo, to honor her first love and the meaning of her name is the universe/purpose, she is Danbi’s whole world and reason for living once again.

Raising a child is never a cake walk yet the florist raised to the challenges of parenting and being single mother along running her own flower business. Danbi loved her little flower girl, constantly nurturing her, teaching her importunateness of compassion and how precious life is along of the beauty life cycle. Everything seems near on perfect until she reached three years old, small strange occurrences started to begin. Jiwoo would love throwing tea parties for her imaginary friends, speaking words in different tongue. At first, she put it down to her mind being creative creating imaginary friends and not unable to speak Korean correctly yet. Until one day, she overheard her child speaking to someone called Jiwoo, “Name twinnies!! Wee! Best Best Friends!” she would chant happily always giggling and smiling to herself too. That was the moment when she realized something wasn’t quite right with her sweet daughter and pray that she would grow out of this stage like most normal children do. Years passed as her mother watched bloomed into wonderful little lady, constantly smiling always willing to help others, bright student who had knack of selling flowers to customers due to her charming personality. In Danbi eyes, there was nothing wrong with her anymore, little did she know there was more to what meets the eye.

On paper Jiwoo seems like the perfect little student, she worked hard, friendly with everyone she meets even treated the bullies with kindness. It seems nothing affected her. The only thing she would have conversation with dead people, lonely souls who needs someone to talk to. She would spend her lunch time doing her homework at the local graveyard soothing souls while figuring out the answers to math equations. No one really knew about this, she knew that if she told anyone that they would think she is weird and would treat her differently. Jiwoo worked so hard to maintain such perfect cover of being such normal girl. It was truly exhausting yet she would only share their woes with the dead. In everyone else eyes, she is the girl with sunshine smile who always know how to cheer up their day and best cheerleader they could ever ask for. Surrounded by people who weren’t really her friends, they just feed off her bright attitude knowing she would do anything for them. Jiwoo would channel her inner anger through the martial arts which she found natural knack for since she surprisingly strong for someone so tiny.

Everything seem to going smoothly, her plan was going well, no one truly suspected a thing ( ignoring the strange whispers from people behind her back ) even preparing to head off to university to learn about Environmental Science & Plant Studies as nature fascinated her, while she worked hard to get scholarship, Danbi worked hard to save funds for her daughter future too. It was tough for them both yet eventually she went off to university studying what she dreamed of, learning how amazing this planet is and environment which needs to be protected too. Sadly, fate had to intervene as her mother fell sick on her last year, as much Danbi protested for Jiwoo to stay at university to finish, she came home to take care of her along with the family business too.

One year later, the florist was blooming yet Danbi passed away, at least Jiwoo & Danbi could be together again. She can always talk to her mother too, so death was never scary concept to her. It felt too hard to keep the flower shop open after the passing, it felt this chapter in her life had to come to a close. Like magic, another opportunity came knocking, along with questions she never tried to answer as she afraid of the answers. A letter from Mount Phoenix informing her of her bloodline, offering her safe haven and the chance to met her birth father. The demi-god took the leap of faith, took the offer, enrolled into Phoenix University to finish her major & minor while honoring her mother by taking up part time job as florist. A chance to shine, new chapter of her life, learning who she is and never need to hide her powers without them thinking she is strange little girl.

PANTHEON: celtic CHILD OF: arawn POWERS: Ability to communicate with the dead. Enhanced physical strength. Only once year she can raise the dead for short periods of time, but this takes a lot of energy.

STRENGTHS:

( + ) she is able to communicate with the dead without much effort

( + ) she is athletic and strong making her surprisingly good fighter

( + ) she is always can find the bright side despite how dark things look

WEAKNESSES:

( - ) she can only raise the dead once a year even then she end up sleeping for days upon end since it takes a lot of energy out of her.

( - ) she can be easily distracted especially dead start talking to her.

( - ) she can be clumsy & forgetful about her own strength causing accidents.

#kpop rp #krp #loona #kim jiwoo #loona chuu #mp; welcome

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rashamon · 3 years

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𝙳𝙰𝚉𝙰𝙸 𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 ― #𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺𝚂𝚃𝙾𝚁𝚈

viewer discretion is strongly advised before continuing: this headcanon includes strong mentions of self harm, child abuse and neglect, child trafficking, sexual abuse, suicide attempts and ideation, torture and murder.

dazai may be a stray dog but he was not always an orphan, in fact, he is a self made orphan after murdering his mother and father and trying to kill himself. this is the same instance of suicide that brings him to meet mori at the age of fourteen. without the intervention of mori, dazai would have very likely been institutionalized in a juvenile prison. mori is able to use his connections to prevent this from happening so he can groom dazai into becoming his right hand man.

dazai osamu murdered his parents because they abused, neglected, and trafficked him as a product rather than a son. they were not married to each other and his mother was very young while his father was much older. for fourteen years, dazai was exploited in any way they could manifest to use him and make money for themselves. this often included selling him to people who would sexually abuse him and sometimes harm him in more sadistic ways as well, contributing to his many bodily scars which he hides beneath his bandages. dazai was taught to steal and pickpocket while manipulating adults into forgiving him when he was caught. he can’t recall the exact point when he stopped feeling all together but he soon developed a habit of harming himself in order to create the sensation he was lacking. it was the only sense of connection and fulfillment he knew. this includes cutting himself with various objects, burning himself with flames, drinking alcohol and smoking cigarettes under the age of fourteen and other various self destructive behaviors. dazai often times started fights even if he knew he couldn’t win.

when dazai finally murdered his parents, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. he hated them, and he had for a very long time. eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and snapped when he ended his father’s life and then his mother’s when she wouldn’t stop screaming. dazai didn’t try to kill himself at first, but instead continued to live inside their apartment while his parents rotted into the carpet. he felt nothing for them, no guilt or remorse and the smell wasn’t much worse than the disaster they already lived in. the anguish he felt came from not feeling anything at all, it disturbed him and he understood he was not normal. eventually, dazai made his way up to the roof, covered in old blood, and jumped, but instead of ending up in a coffin, to his chagrin, he ended up in a hospital.

dazai doesn’t see the future, he has been ready to die since he was a child and every year he is alive, he feels more like it’s a joke at his expense rather than a gift. he doesn’t celebrate his birthday because he never has and in general feels extreme dysphoria at the fact that he has somehow managed to stay alive. he thinks it’s funny, in a manic sort of way. he wasn’t offered a future until mori entered his life and dazai witnessed him murder the mafia boss at the time. this created a strange bond between them because dazai had never met another murderer before, and felt a kinship with mori in that sense, or perhaps just insidious intrigue.

mori trains him viciously, the only way the mafia knows how to raise kids. he is subjected to various kinds torture to make him impervious to it in the future. he is taught to shoot which dazai quickly excels at, finding it an enjoyable pass time. he practices everyday for hours, wasting thousands of bullets perfecting it. he is taught to fight but he’s never quite good enough at it, his advantage being his speed and leanness. he excels mostly at dodging and avoiding rather than brute force. for the first time in dazai’s life, he is something and he likes it. he’s placed above the others and this only inflates his adolescent ego. he enjoys killing and takes a sick pleasure in how he does it so well. no one really protected him in the mafia, and he was quietly taken advantage of by some of the older peers, which he would inevitably murder too.

mori found dazai’s inclination to kill himself, unprofitable and distasteful. dazai was his prize and in mori’s mind, dazai belonged to him. dazai, of course, didn’t give one shit about how mori felt about his suicide attempts. he knew mori only cared for his life because he wanted to use him more, their relationship becoming more hostile the older dazai got. dazai once threatening to cut out his own eye to make himself useless to mori as his hired gun. mori goads him further into doing it, telling him if he does that it will only change dazai’s purpose within the mafia - convincing him that there are still uses for young boys with one eye. dazai understands what he means - it’s a threat and dazai believes him. he’d rather be a gun with privilege's than return to the past abuses. there’s a small and faint scar beneath his left eye that goes uncovered since he no longer wears bandages over it. the continuous use of bandages over his eye were more of a reminder than anything that even without two eyes - he is still useful and it hardly ended up effecting his efficacy with a gun.

the first time someone truly cares for dazai in a genuine, non pervasive way, is odasaku. this is confusing to dazai and he makes a joke of it because it doesn’t make any sense to him. given everything he is, he doesn’t think he’s worthy of any pity or any assistance and especially not love. it’s exactly odasaku’s love that sends dazai into a spiral after he is killed and gives him his last words as a parting gift. never in his life has anyone ever believed that he could be good. never in his life has he ever believed that - and yet here is the one person he believes in and trusts - telling him that he can be good.

" i know it makes no difference to you, but please become a good human being. save the weak, protect the orphaned. i suppose you don't care for either justice or evil...but striving to be a better person is a wonderful thing. "

dazai never cared if anyone died, and for the first time he was devastated by a death. dazai abruptly leaves the mafia after this and approaches taneda who directs him toward the ada. taneda tells him he needs to lay low for two years to clean his past, ango is able to help him with that and he goes ahead shuts himself in for a few years with money he had stashed away. spending those years in solitude and bars trying to figure out what he believes about the world and what odasaku meant when he said he could be good. he spends those years pitying himself, and contemplating his existence and suicide. when he comes out of this, it is spawned by another thing within him that he doesn’t understand. this will to live despite having no reason at all.

#muse / dazai osamu.#headcanon / dazai osamu.#so yeah #hah

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medicifm · 3 years

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* not me actually writing an intro the night before like i always mean to 😳 hennyway hey biddies , i'm chloe , im in the snowy part of pst , & i use she / her pns . i’ve been . . . . . . . scouring the tags for an rp like this so im so excited to bring this newish muse of mine here ! im here to do the honours of introducing my himbo - on - the outside , manipulative - shit - on - the - inside . . . oscar 🤡

( twenty three , cis man , he / him ) ✉ ― hey babes , have you met OSCAR MEDICI ? they’re working here as THE HEAD CHEF AT LORENZO’S , a few villas down from where you’re staying . you might hear them singing ALRIGHTY APHRODITE BY PEACH PIT playing from their villa , it’s their favourite song . yes , they hear that they look like JACK GILINSKY a lot , actually - it’s really uncanny . their friends back home in SYDNEY , AUSTRALIA say that if they were on a tv show , their trope would be THE WOLF IN SHEEP’S CLOTHING , how funny is that ? ✎ chloe , 22 , she/her , pst

𝐢 .

pinterest | wanted plots |

𝐢𝐢 .

name : oscar gabriel medici

age : twenty three

dob / sign : december 4th , 1997 / sagittarius sun , leo moon , libra rising

pob : sydney , australia

gender / pronouns : cis man & he / him / his

career : head chef at lorenzo’s , full - time heathen , professional disappointment for mothers everywhere .

drinking / drugs / smoking : yes / more often than he’d admit / never .

religion : jewish background , currently non - practicing .

physical : jack gilinsky fc , dark brown / black longish curls ( reference ) , dark brown eyes , canon jack g’s tattoos , no piercings , 6′2″ , 175 lbs , lean but strong . tattoos a la canon!jack , pearly white smile that he may . . . or may not . . . use crest 3D white strips weekly to maintain . lots of burns & scars from kitchen mishaps on his hands & arms .

traits : hard - working , flighty , intelligent , hedonistic , charismatic , intense , volatile ,

other : speaks weird french ( aussie accent tings ) , tans easily but wears sunscreen nonetheless , works hard parties harder , can’t read a lick of french but spends a lot of his free time with a coffee & a new paperback , has a bit of an internal vendetta against rich people ( for no real reason , he just doesn’t like most of them ) , has ins with a bunch the local farmers & visits them weekly , pretends he isn’t lowkey addicted to nicotine administered via a puff bar , liquor of preference is tequila or red wine , drives a lil vespa around town for the gag of it ( loves seeing it haphazardly parked amongst a bunch of luxury cars ) ,

character inspo : jess mariano ( gilmore girls ) , gordon ramsey 🤡 , patrick verona ( 10 things i hate about you ) , ferris bueller ( ferris bueller’s day off ) , han solo ( star wars ) .

𝐢𝐢𝐢 .

oscar’s arrival was as unwanted to his parents as could be : a father whose tendencies leaned towards alcoholism & abusing whoever was in arms reach , a mother whose life was more or less spent at the nursing home she worked as a nurse at , evading home . he became a self - inflicted loner , preferring to do literally the exact opposite of what was expected or wanted from him . he had a few friends he ran with , but watching them all go off & study or prepare for university solidified in oscar’s mind that the non - traditional route was for him . growing up by the water , oscar always felt more drawn to skip school & head to the beach than he did obeying his parents wishes .

one of his solaces was his grandfather , gabriel , who owned an italian restaurant in a beach town north of sydney . whenever the weather was bad & oscar felt like ditching class , he’d head over to his nono’s restaurant where his ass would be put to work as soon as he set eyes on the restaurant . it was tough work , but challenging in a way that fanned the flames in oscar’s heart , rather than dimming them . by the time he was a teenager he was working in the restaurant everyday after school , an agreement between him & his grandfather framed on the back wall that stated that as long as oscar kept from flunking out , he was allowed to spend as little or as much time in the kitchen as he pleased .

his absolute defiance of anything traditional & following the rules made him unpopular with adults , but lowkey cool with the girls . by the time he was sixteen , he was losing his focus on the restaurant & his grades & spending more & more time chasing after girls . his nono tried to get oscar to come back & focus , but as always , anything he’s asked to do quickly becomes the thing he’s running from the most .

tw : death , cancer . around his eighteenth birthday , his grandfather suddenly fell ill with a rare form of cancer that took his life six weeks after diagnosis , which rocked oscar’s world . he felt overwhelming guilt that he hadn’t spent more time with his grandfather , which manifested itself as oscar dropping out of school a year shy of graduation to commit himself fully to perfecting his grandfather’s techniques , learning all of his recipes ( read : pouring over dozens of handwritten cookbooks ) in some failed attempt to get back some time with him . oscar hadn’t been close with his parents in years , more or less seeing them as wardens of a prison he wanted nothing to do with . his grandfather’s will left him the deed to the restaurant , with an ask that oscar would promise to act on whatever he felt called towards , rather than doing what others expected of him . to be candid , this whole situation crushed him .

eventually , he decided he’d had enough of the stifling community he’d grown up in . he sold the restaurant to one of the regulars , a wealthy man who he’d come to acknowledge as somewhat of an uncle ; a safe pair of hands who would treat his grandfather’s legacy with as much passion & respect as oscar himself would . so he packed a bag , texted his mom that he was going traveling , & got on a flight that evening . he traveled all around - first through central america , then through europe , throughout asia & africa , & spent a few months driving a van across the continental united states & canada for fun .

eventually , he started getting low - ish on money , & decided to settle in one of his favourite places he’d visited : southern france . he arrived in early 2018 , taking on whatever menial tasks he could while learning french until he got a position as a line cook in an italian restaurant . a few years later , he’s made his way up to filling the head chef position , an honour he takes with pride . he’s implemented many of his own recipes while using flavours he’s learned from his travels , with ingredients straight from local farmers . he’s earned the restaurant a two michelin star rating , & is constantly striving for more to get that last star ( both for his own ego as well as a secret debt to his grandfather ) .

𝐢𝐯 .

ok but that vid where gordon puts two pieces of bread on someone’s head & calls them an idiot sandwich ? that’s oscar . intense as fuck in the kitchen , & best nobody catch an attitude about it bc he will not hesitate to hand them their ass on a silver platter .

another gordon reference : you know how he’s the spawn of satan with adults , but the sweetest , most helpul guy with children ? that’s oscar with his staff vs people he wants something from . whether its to sleep with them ( usually his first instinct to be fair ) , their money or clout , or to get into some wild adventure some random resort staff wouldn’t dream of getting into , he can turn on the charm whenever needed .

can go from absolutely demoralizing someone in the kitchen to stepping out into the lounge to schmooze with his friends or cougars who leave phat tips in 0.2 seconds . the speed at which his mood can completely 180 is one of the seven world wonders ( last i checked ) .

his love language is absolutely acts of service . catch him actually falling in love once in a blue moon & making it his mission to cook her extravagant meals everyday .

the wolf in sheep’s clothing label epitomizes his nice , helpful , charismatic exterior , while ulterior motives & disdain for those who grew up with more money than he did lurk beneath the surface .

he can be MEAN when someone fucks him over or pushes him farther than he wants - isn’t afraid to go for the low blows or send someone home with an identity crisis if it protects himself .

lowkey alcoholic but he’s not ready for that conversation yet . he sees it more as perks of the location & atmosphere he’s found himself in .

also lowkey falls in love HARD , like this man is a closeted romantic but self - sabotages all potential relationships before they can get to that point out of fear he’ll be unable to live life of his own volition ( takes a flaky philophobic sagittarius to know a flaky philophobic sagittarius 🤡 ) . has probably only had a few real relationships besides flings bc he’s afraid .

𝐯 .

check out my wanted plots tag listed here , as well as my pinterest wanted plots board here . here are some other suggestions hehe :

best friend / ride or die : someone who knows about his past , keeps him grounded when he’s lk spiraling & wants to drop everything & flee to some far flung corner of the earth .

actual relationship : it was fast - burn with deep feelings ( not them thinking they’re soulmates after dating for a month . . . pete & ariana type beat ) but completely unrealistic . they have their own life , he’s pretty much tied to the restaurant , not to mention his lack of sharing anything about his childhood / life back home . they loved & cared for each other , but crashed & burned fairly quickly because of how idealistic it was . they can either be on bad or good terms now .

hateship with sexual tension 😈

summer flings !!

fake boyfriend : he shows up on her arm to her family’s events where she’s expected to have a partner . it’s not a real relationship , but her parents don’t need to know that . he plays the part & satisfies her parents beyond the bare minimum , & in return she invites him to parties , takes him out on her family’s yacht , etc etc . we luv some symbiosis

i can always use more fwbs hehehe

squad : a group of people who do everything together , have a chaotic group chat , have nicknames for one another , are utd on each other’s sex lives , party all night then show up to brunch hungover together .

cat & mouse : someone he’s pursuing who isn’t quite giving in , & vice versa . maybe it’s been going on a few years , everytime they’re in st tropez they have this weird lil flirtationship thing goin on until she leaves , they forget about one another , then pick it right back up when she returns .

confidant : preferably someone from a working class background who understands his plight of being a worker amongst people who expect to be waited on .

enemies : they don’t like his attitude , & he doesn’t like them in return . lots of eye rolls , shit talking , & tension between their mutual friends .

we’re sleeping together but we shouldn’t be but that’s half the fun : for whatever reason they became friends , starting hooking up despite it not being a good idea ( read : he’s exes with one of her friends , her parents want her focused on career , they’re part of the same friend group , etc ) . . . but now they can’t stop . lots of stolen glances across rooms , squeezing past one another in a crowded club just close enough for a quick touch to the back , quietly leaving one another’s places the morning after & playing dumb to anyone who asks .

#villasintro #eeeek im hyped !!

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trashystar420 · 4 years

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CHAPTER 3!!! Babysitter Maribat AU AGE Reversed Chapter 3!

Well here’s chapter three, not sure how good it is. A bit OOC here so yeah.

Selina awoke from the annoying buzzing from her cellphone resting on the night stand. It was Bruce?!? Selina immediately answered.

“Wh-THE MANSION IS IN ONE PIECE SELINA!!!!! Do you know what this means!?!?” Before the older woman could respond, Bruce interrupted her, again.

“ I can take you out on dates, I can actually focus on work without having to stress over them, I can actually feel confident walking into my home to NOT find it in pieces!!!! Selina please you must give me that lady’s number!!! Selina Love!!!” Selina was too stunned to even respond. How were you supposed to respond when the BRUCE WAYNE, stotic man who feels nothing, shows more emotion then he has in the last thirty years. Not that this was a bad thing, for a happy Bruce meant a GRAND time in the bed.

The cat lady licked her lips, eager to have the man in her bed yet again. She really must thank that girl for doing this for her.

“Brucie Dear, could you please slow down, I can barely stay awake, especially from last night.” She purred. What she didn’t expect was the tone in his answer.

“Oh, I know and I can keep coming back, IF you give me that young lady’s number.” Shit, since when did he get this aggressive!??!? The poor lady was blushing a new shade of red. Bruce wasn’t the type to be this aggressive. Now she REALLY must thank Marinette.

“Ugh let me talk to her first, then we’ll see.” And she cut the call. Getting up from her bed, Selina’s nightgown slipped out of her shoulders. The proof of Bruce’s late night visit was all over her neck and upper chest area. Blushing at the reminder of what went down that night, Selina made up her mind and called Marinette quickly.

...

“Mari dear, I’m sorry, were you sleeping?” She asked wincing that she woke the poor girl up, she wasn’t much of a morning person, much like herself.

“Mmmm” the older lady chuckled.

“Hey Mari dear, you know the babysitting gig I set you up for?” Somehow that woke Marinette up.

“OH NO DID I DO A TERRIBLE JOB?!? What if he fires me?!? What if he blacklists me and I can never get my dream job!?? Am I going to jail I can’t go there Selin- Marinette calm down!!!” Selina finally calmed the now sobbing Bluenette over the phone.

After a few minutes of Selina calming the girl down, Marinette was now in a better state of mind to listen to what Selina had to say.

“So he actually wants me to be a permanent babysitter?” She clarified. Selina confirmed.

“Why is this so hard for you to believe?” Selina asked annoyed. The young designer chuckled, as though the older woman knew no better.

“don’t you think it’s a bit weird how he hasn’t even had me for a week to SEE if I was good or not? What about a proper background check?!? For all he knows I could be a suspicious person who is in it for his fortune or something?” Selina rolled her eyes. Leave it to Marinette to start overanalyzing.

“That’s because I recommended you to him dearie, are you saying I have poor judge of character?” She teased.

“Yes” she retorts back then precedes to laugh, Selina gave a pout but let it slide. She really owed Marinette this.

“So Selina, how was it?” Mari asked in a mocking tone. Selina heaved a sigh.

“It was absolutely Devine Mari Darling. It was perfect, though I think the neighbors might complain over the noise.” The more experienced woman smirked. Marinette blushes on the other line and quickly chastised her.

“Selina!”

“You asked for it!”

“Ugh so should I call him?”

...

The Wayne’s were currently seated in the dining room, everyone eating the breakfast Alfred made for them. What was unusual about this morning was Bruce’s mood visibly brighten, which set everyone else other than Alfred off.

Tim reaches over to lil Dick.

“Why do you think he’s in such a good mood?” Dick asked. Tim being the know-it-all he is, gave an answer.

“Bruce got to go out with Selina, and came home to find the house not in shambles.” He whispered, fearing that the good mood his father has will dissolve.

“Father, are you ok?” Damien asked. His father smiling unnerved him. Something about it felt really unnatural.

“Never felt better.” He responded too quickly for Damien’s liking. Jason was just poking his pancake with a fork. Alfred looked concerned, usually Jason loved eating anything and everything.

“ What is the matter Master Jason? Are the pancakes not to your liking?” The butler asked. Jason shook his head, then looked at Bruce with fierce determination burning in his eyes.

“Hey Bruce.” The man looked at the young boy feeling slightly apprehensive.

“Did having sex with Aunt Selina really feel that good?” Bruce immediately spits his drink. Tim was on the floor bawling, while Damien did his best to look unaffected, but ultimately snickered. Dick, being the innocent bean that he is, wonders out loud what sex is.

A blushing Bruce told his clueless son it meant nothing, while Alfred gave a disapproving look to the troublesome brat.

“Master Jason was that appropriate?” Before Jason could answer, Tim gave a ‘yes’ in response to the question. More laughter persisted as Alfred gave a dejected sigh, Dick being clueless, and Bruce wanting the earth to swallow him whole.

The phone left on the counter buzzed. Quirking an eyebrow, Alfred retrieves the phone for Bruce.

“Unknown number?” Bruce took the phone and accepted the call. He waited on the other line with baited breathe thinking it would be another spam caller. Instead a familiar feminine voice spoke.

“A-Are you Mr.Bruce? The one who needed a last minute babysitter? Selina told me that you were planning on making me a permanent one...”

“Ah Ms.Dupain-Cheng, did Selina give you my number?”

“Yes, sorry to call you so early.”

“Ah I wouldn’t worry about that. Anyways this is good timing, I need to talk to you about being a babysitter. I made sure to deliver you your check in the mail. You should have gotten it by now.” Shuffling was heard from Bruce’s line. And some crashing noises. Bruce was close to wincing.

“Ah um... si-sir y-you didn’t”

“Oh yes I did”

“But sir this is $10,000!!! Isn’t that much for babysitting two kids, well behaved ones at that?!?” The entire mansion echoed the laughter that came from the businessman.

“It’s because they behaved so well that I gave you that much, but now that I think about it. Perhaps I should give you three extra zeroes.” He replied. Now everyone was listening in on the conversation.

“NO! I-I mean, Monsier Wayne, please this is considered too much for a babysitting job, and for a day. Please I can’t accept this.” Bruce wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh no I insist you have been a great help. You have no idea how hard it is to manage those troublemakers.”

“You must be joking, the boys have been nothing but angels”

“ either way no take backs” Bruce stubbornly stated. The boys couldn’t pick up what Marinette said over the phone that was muffled by Bruce.

“Can you come at least once a week?” He asked. More muffled digital voices in. The boys gaped as their well respected father, fist-bumped to himself like a little kid getting the best thing in the world. Alfred had merely begun cleaning up after the Waynes.

“Yes you can cancel in advance if something comes up.” He answers

“Yes you can take the boys out, but make sure it is not passed 7.” Jason and Dick perked up at that. Even Damien had to do a double take on that. Tim was listening intently to every little tid-bit.

“You want to start by the beginning of next week?” Bruce asked to confirm.

“I would be glad to Monsieur Bruce.” Marinette finished.

“Please Ms.Dupain-Cheng call me Bruce.”

“Only if you call me Marinette.”

“Then it is settled, Marinette.”

“See you next week Mon- er - i mean B-Bruce.” And the call ended. Bruce was half tempted to do a happy dance, but after looking at his boys, decided not too.

“Now everyone, I expect you all to be in the bat cave by 8, we have another serious meeting to discuss. But right now. ‘Looks at wristwatch’ looks like I have to get going.” And off Bruce went. His kids could only stare as he took off in his very expensive looking car.

“Miss.M-Marinette is going to babysit us!” Squealed Dick while Jason grinned from ear to ear.

“I’m so gonna beat pixie-bob at ultimate mecha strike three!!!” Jason spoke determinately. Tim just sipped more of his coffee, realizing he’s gonna need another mug and walks to the kitchen to make some more.

“That harlot is simply humoring you two.” Damien answered, while looking away. Dick and Jason were clearly offended by that statement.

“YOU TAKE THAT BACK!” Dick screeched as he racked his older brother who was completely caught off guard.

“Yeah lil Dickie teach Demon Spawn a lesson!!!! Jason cheered from the sidelines, and Damien struggles to get the flexible boy of him. Dick eventually kicks Damien in the family jewels.

“Ahhhhhhh oh you are so gonna- eat shit Bitch!” As Jason threw a chair at the incompacitated Damien. The two younger boys fled the scene as a rather pissed off Damien got up. Alfred offered him an ice-pack and he reluctantly took it.

“When I get my hands on those two.” As he stormed off after his idiotic brothers.

...

“Tikki!!!!!!!!” The super heroine pleaded. The small goddess just gave her a look.

“Just take it in strive Marinette”

“But it’s $10,000!!!!! Don’t you think it’s too much!?!?”

“I don’t know, sounds to me like those boys were not so nice to begin with Mari” Mari scoffed. How could anyone think anything bad of Jason and Dick. They were absolute angels and totally adorable.

“Please Tikki, your just jealous.” The kwami just gave her a look, before muttering ‘clueless holders’

“I heard that!”

“That’s kind of the point!” The kwami sighed. It’s going to be quite the adventure.

#@BlueRosette23 #@novicevoice #@weird-pale-blonde-person #@theatrendcomicfreak @Caffeinetheory @liawinchester67 #@ladysblackcat @derpingrainbow @thecatnipmademedoit #@vivian077 @dur55 @interobanginyourmom #@legendaryneckjudgestudent @persephonebutkore @zalladane #damien x marinette #maridami #maribat #older damian wayne #bruce x selina #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupen chang

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palettepainter · 4 years

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Part 1 of the MHA NG bios! DO NOT REPOST/EDIT/COPY/TRACE MY ART OR OC’S!!! All of these guys (besides the one of the top left) are in class 1A, these are my NG’s to some of the characters in the show so bare in mind in this NGAU they’re all grown up and are pursuing jobs as hero’s or other. How did Aizawa and Mic have a child?? WITH A SPECIAL QUIRK! These characters live in a world FULL of people with powers, pretty sure there’d be one quirk that would allow two men or two women to have a biological child - also NO neither Aizawa and Mic carried her for the pregnancy. They had miss Joke carry their child, but she is in no way related to her. Kanpekina Aizawa (Meaning: Princess, daughter you Mic X Aizawa) Quirk - erasure and voice Kanpekina is a scruffy little ball of moodiness and bluntness, she has inherited Aizawa’s resting bitch face and tendency to be straight to the point on most subjects. She’s not really good at making friends so she spends most of her time alone, unlike Mic she isn’t as social as he is so she tends to shy away at socialising or hiding behind him. She’s a hardcore lover and video games and music, and despite her quite nature she can be very passionate and talkative when she’s discussing the things she enjoys (she detests her name, Mic chose it cuz he won a bet with Aizawa, if it was a girl he’d get to name her) Furōra Woods (means Flora in English, daughter to Kumai Woods X MT Lady) Quirk - Abore Furōra is a calm, propper and polite young lady, and is also one of the class reps. She’s a bit of a worrier and is the typical mum friend amongst her classmates. She gets along with most of her classmates but does tend to become more irritated if things aren’t going to how she planned. Her secret passion is ready sappy romance novels and slightly more adult themes novels her mother recommends, she probably has a whole stash of sappy romance novels hidden under her bed. Senshi Kirishima (Means warrior in English, son to Mina x Kirishima) Quirk: Acid + hardening (he can create acid and harden it to make shields or weapons, however if he tries to make a sword from his acid, it’ll just take the shape of a sword, it won’t look like a real one) Senshi is just as energetic and spunky as his parents but no where near as competitive, he takes more after his mother in the sense he focuses more on having a good time, he’s kind of a goof most days which makes it easy for others to talk to him. He likes to experiment with his hair and try different styles, it’s naturally scruffy, so he wears a bandana round his forehead to keep it out of his face. Kita Kaminari (name may change since I couldn’t think of one I liked for him, son to Jirou X Kaminari) Quirk: Earphone Jack + Electrification (he can blast his heart beat at a loud volume like Jirou, and can also use his earphones hanging from his ear lobes to take electricity from appliances, he can then shoot that electricity through his fingers) Kita is the cool kid of the class, he’s got a degree in sarcasm and smugness streak a mile long. He’s overall pretty chill but hard working towards things he enjoys, it’s very hard to shake his confidence, so he sometimes accidentally ends up sounding full of himself. Due to his parents he’s for a wee bit of a potty mouth, which can tend to get him into trouble. He loves playing guitar and drums! Due to his laid back attitude most people in his class come to him to vent off their worries, he’s a good listener and actually offers pretty solid advice. Runa Tokoyami (Means Luna in English, daughter to Tokoyami x Asui) Quirk: dark shadow (similar to her father but instead of having dark shadow leave her body, it’s more like a voice in her head that offers her guidance in a fight. Instead she takes on features of a bird when using her powers, such as having feathers spawn in her hair and have her arms turn into wings) Runa is smart and intelligent, she finds comfort in the world of books and most enjoys reading more dark stories with more adult themes. She’s been raised well by both of her parents, she is very loyal to close friends and family (to the point she sometimes tends to put others needs before her own), she physically cannot lie. It’s an impossibility for her. She’s a prefect mix of sociable and preferring time alone, she’s good at holding conversations with close friends but sometimes struggles to speak with new people. Her hobbies include star gazing, gothic fashion and, art and poetry Taishiro Toyomitsu Junior (Son to FatGum X Kumo (my OC)) Quirk: Spider + Fat absorption (Like his mother he has the abilities of a spider (just think of spider man, his powers are like his), but like FatGum he can also absorb a certain amount of attacks thrown at him and then use that energy to make his own attacks stronger) Taishiro junior, or called TJ by most, is a lot less driven then both his parents and isn’t very enthusiastic about living up to the expectations out upon him at birth by being the son to a well loved hero. His strength lies in tests and research, he’d much rather prefer to learn from a book then physical experience. He’s pretty socially awkward since he isn’t good at telling who genuinely wants to be his friend, and who just wants to be friends with him due to him being the son to a famous hero. He doesn’t strive to be number one like many of his other classmates, and is way more happy settling for a lower rank in the spotlight - as long as he makes his parents happy and that he is happy Rekkei Toyomitsu (adopted son to FatGum x Kumo, biological dad is Rappa) Quirk: Strong arm Rekkei is a troubled youth, he is reckless at times and does enjoy a good fight, but unlike Rappa he doesn’t just blindly go into a fight without a plan, he has a moral compass which he more or less knows how to follow. He and TJ has a rivalry before Rekkei came to live with Fatgum, thought it was mostly Rekkie doing the threatening since TJ didn’t want a rivalry in the first place. Rekkie eventually comes to live with FatGum and Kumo and is put into UA by his new parents. Rekkie currently attends therapy sessions to help him find new ways to cope with his anger and stress (when he lived with Rappa he just went somewhere to punch a wall till he felt better, he’s finding more affective ways to release stress) Taimatsu Todoroki (name means torch/light in English, son to Todoroki X Yaoyorozu) Quirk: Hell flame Taimatsu puts up the act of being very calm and collected, always acting as if he has everything under control and that in the face of a big exam, there is nothing to worry about. However deep down he is incredibly self conscious over his quirk, this is something he often struggles to talk about so he tends to let his emotions out in the privacy of his room. He hates being compared to his granddad Endevour for..reasons. Many people tend to make comparisons between himself and Endevour due to him inheriting his quirk, however Taimatsu doesn’t like his quirk that much for this reason, so he tends to let others take the spotlight. He relaxes by painting in his free time Yari TetsuTetsue (Name means spear in English, son to TetsueTetsue X Kendo) Quirk: Steel and Big Fist Yari is a bit of a smartass and is quite sarcastic, like his mother he’s pretty straight forward when saying his opinion and is very smug when confronted with people he doesn’t like or people who are too full of themselves. He’s the one friend that will actually speak up if he thinks they’re all going to do something that will get them in trouble. Despite this he is incredibly passionate about fighting like his father, and takes every opportunity he can to perfect his abilities.

#MHA #My Hero Academia #NG's #No ship hate #Aizawa X Mic #Kumai woods X MT Lady #Kirishima X Mina #Jirou X Kaminari #Tokoyami X Asui #Fatgum X Kumo (OC)#Rappa NG #Todoroki X Momo #Tetsuetetsue X Kendo #My OC's #Palettes art

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ballouheys · 4 years

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hey there , i’m libby ( or any of the other many nicknames that come w being named elizabeth ... we’re all pals here . call me what you want to ) and i just spent way too much time trying to write this intro . but this is way to long and way too all over the place ... .. so hit that little like button and i’ll slip n slide into your dms ( i’ll probably slip n slide into ur dms even if you don’t , what can i say ? i’m shameless ) to give you the low low on gigi so you don’t have to read this mess of an intro rip :/

𝐨𝐨𝟏. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒 .

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞: gentry thylane ballouhey . 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬: gigi ,gen . 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡: june 26 . 𝐳𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧: cancer . 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞: los angeles , california . 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧: los angeles , california . 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: bisexual ╱ biromantic . 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬: fluent in english and french . literate in spanish , but is unable to properly articulate the language despite several years of studies . 𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐬: a sloppily drawn heart on the side of her right middle finger, a winking and now faded smiley face on the tip of her left index finger, but out of all the unfortunate markings, the most unfortunate of them all was her own signature in girlish print across the inside of her foot. or perhaps the license plate of her first car ( that she had driven through their fence four months after it had been gifted to her ) beneath her left breast. all of which had been inked into her skin by friends, all of which seemed like a much better idea when drunk . 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: three in tight succession on each earlobe . 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜: notes penned in red ink , each individual i dotted with its own tiny heart , scuffed and sullied balenciaga sneakers and ruffled ankle high socks , the cacophonous clink of bulky anklets against one another with each passing step , applying a full face of makeup only to remove it all minutes later , a far too large collection of scrunchies varying in pattern and texture lining the top drawer of her bedside table , a plethora of practiced accents , mascara and tears leaking down the swell of freckled cheeks as the credits to a romantic comedy she could quote word for word begin to roll , long bubble baths in a claw foot tub with a streetcar named desire playing on repeat in another room , sundays spent tangled up in an array of silken bed linens , a collection of shoes that could rival even carrie bradshaw’s , a signature practiced to perfection , hearts varying in size doodled on the palm of her hand , along the underside of her arm , romanticized idealizations , wearing her finest lingerie beneath sweatpants and the hacked hem of t-shirts she cropped herself , strands of hair sticking to overly glossed lips , unsmoked and pink ringed cigarette stubs dropped into an emptied flute of champagne , the wrong number scrawled on a napkin in pink ink to match the stain of puckered lips , unsubtle flirations , a personality akin to bubbling champagne , kisses planted anywhere but on the mouth , meaningful conversations with a stranger , and long nights spent searching for love in all the wrong places .

𝐨𝐨𝟐. 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐇

perhaps the one thing worse than a charmed childhood spoiling with years passed, was a childhood that had been spoiled from the very start. and poor gentry ballouhey had been brought into this world swaddled in cotton and blushing bright pink, held loose within the arms of a mother who didn’t quite want her, as her father stared with disdain at the second little girl he hadn’t quite planned on having. the family of three had already been perfect, she was nothing more than a blemish, a mistake, a pretty, little bandaid doused in alcohol and placed atop a gaping wound ( utterly useless and entirely too painful ). yes, she had been born into the quintessential white-picket fence family, all bright and toothy grins ( perfectly straight, perfectly white ), in their matching white tennis outfits as their matching white poodles gallivanted across the perfectly manicured lawn, but no childhood could be charmed when one spent the entirety of it unloved.

the ballouhey’s outcast, conceived amongst a dreamlike haze of judgement clouded by a bottle of dom perignon shared beneath starlit parisian skies, had been burdened with the expectations to conform when her entire existence stood in stark contrast to their careful ideals. even her conception had been rash and unexpected, much unlike her sister who had been dreamt of from the very moment their parents had married, carefully crafted in a lab after several failed attempts. meryl was wanted, a charming girl who lived a charmed life, and gentry? well, she simply was not. the blonde and bubbling stain on an otherwise perfect family portrait, the odd duckling among long-necked and elegant swans, gentry had felt forced to force her own self into an almost unsettling obedience. another failed attempt to please, to garner but a mere fraction of the attention marlon and madeleine ballouhey smothered their first-born in.

she was a true oddity, in more ways than one. softness epitomized, all freckles and full cheeks, doe-eyes and blurred edges nestled several steps to the left of her sharp-eyed and sharp-lined family members. an airy spring breeze in comparison to her elder sister’s chilled winter evening. the littlest ballouhey that left all spectators befuddled for she was all her father with a little something else. yet despite marlon and madeleine’s best efforts to keep their youngest tucked away from the public eye by sending her to the most exclusive and private catholic schools, and leaving her at home with the nannies while the rest of the family attended awards shows ( claiming it was simply because she was too young to attend ), gentry was sought out by one of her father’s friends to star in a film at the age of fourteen. the first time she had ever been chosen before meryl, her short lived claim to fame. perhaps an acting career wasn’t truly her calling, but the adoration she had received was.

the attention she received in the years following her debut in the film industry, turned the girl desperate for love into a girl even more hungry for adoration. she began to spent her days striving for perfection to draw her parents coveted attention ( the only thing they had ever left her wanting for ) back to herself. each straight a report card had been put up on the fridge only to go unnoticed, the nanny chauffeured her to all her extracurricular activities and sat in her parents place for all her dance recitals. and when she told her father about her time spent volunteering at the animal shelter she’d been met with a dismissive nod and a clap on the shoulder that was meant to be congratulatory as he left in a hurry to tend to something on set. her parents immersed themselves in their work, in meryl, and gentry was pushed off to the side for the nannies to deal with even after she was well into her teens.

yet while she began to achieve the feigned perfection her family had always seemed to possess, their decline sputtered to life. at least within their home. she can still remember mornings spent splayed out on her plush queen-sized bed with her romantic comedies to drown out the noise , hair a mess and a pressed private school uniform on - all pink on pink on pink ( her pink cigarettes tucked beneath a pillow, mother’s faux lashes accentuating eyes made vacant by her pink and white pills, and the collar of daddy’s scotch soaked dress shirt stained by pillow lips painted an unfamiliar shade of pink ) as she used the edge of a polished finger to swipe the errant tear that had leaked from a trained tear duct, glossed lips once, twice, thrice before slipping out of their house ( it felt both all too large and far too small for the four of them ) unnoticed by her quarreling parents, glared at by her sister. others could see right through the act, witnessed the slammed doors rattling painting right off the walls, heard the boozy and biting insults, the tumblers hurled, scotch sloshing, ice clattering, glass shattering, and she knew that they knew. but when looks of pity, or rather discomfort, passed across their faces she’d simply smile that deep-dimpled barbie doll beam, and turn the television playing rom coms on repeat up several notches. love gone terribly awry stifled by the picturesque, perhaps that’s where it had come from … her love for love, or more specifically yearning and romance as depicted on the silver screen, when she had been raised in an environment so frosty it should have left her with a block of ice in place of her childish and sputtering heart .

𝐨𝐨𝟑. 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

not unlike her parents she loved obsessed in a way that exhausted ( far too much , far too fast ) . ashton had inherited her mother’s insecurities , strung her jealousy in a choke around her throat like an emerald necklace , and her father’s flighty heart that sputtered to life for all the wrong souls . it was no suprise that the two who had given new meaning to the term hopeless romantic would spawn a lovely daughter just as unlucky , if not more so , in love . but their hard , cold genes had been muddled together , creating something much worse . she loves love , or rather suffocating adoration , and will latch on to just about anyone who makes her feel a little less hollow . while gentry is what one would deem a movie buff, it would be difficult for someone to name a movie that she hasn’t seen at least once, she loves to read just as much. tucked away in the valley as her father traveled the world to attend award shows and charity galas, there was very little to do. so she often found herself flipping through novels as she tanned alongside the pool, always the odd one out as her friends gossiped about the boys from their brother school and flipped through gossip rags.

gentry has an extensive vocabulary, contrary to what most might think. its a product of her extensive reading and film viewing, but she always seems to get a weird glance when she drops a big word into her sentence littered with valley girl lingo.

while she certainly isn’t a ditz, she doesn’t necessarily dispute the assumption most people make when they glimpse the spacey look that her features take to a bit too often. perhaps she likes being underestimated, but she doesn’t typically do much to prove those who do underestimate her wrong.

gentry loves nothing more than spending all day in her pink silk pajamas, buried beneath sheets and duvet with her persian cat, holly golightly ( dubbed holly ) as she watches a rom-com she’s already seen at least ten times. she isn’t lazy per se, she just much prefers a night in with a bottle of champagne and her box of tissues ( if she’s planning on watching 13 going on 30 she has to be prepared for a few leaked tears ) to a night out.

gentry is almost a bastardized version of cher horowitz, plucked right from the screen and loosely translated to fit reality. she’s a bit selfish and undeniably herself, yet yearns for, needs if one were to be dramatic, admiration. any semblance of attention that strokes her large ego and keeps her confidence from wavering a much appreciated gesture. but despite being far too self absorbed for her own good, she gives off some guise of selflessness - though her ample acts of kindness always tend to benefit her in return. and while she’s often concerned with how people perceive her, desperately wanting for everyone to find her desirable, she’s a bit too idealistic, a bit too stubborn to simply settle for people. with a collection of romance novels and romantic comedies still lining the shelves of her room that hadn’t change much since girlhood, it’s no secret that she has an insatiable love for love.

#reputationintro #whew this is ~rough~ pls forgive :/#and the formatting is really ugly too i hate it here

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lady-divine-writes · 5 years

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Coldflash Bingo one-shot - “Choosing Destiny” (Rated PG13)

Summary: At age 18, teenagers get to choose their future. Whatever they want to be for the rest of their lives. Literally their life's work, since they'll pass on when it's done. Leonard Snart has the potential to be great, but his choice has already been made for him. But if he could choose for himself, he'd pick Barry and happiness. The choice he makes, Barry also has to live with.

... So what will Barry's choice be? (2581 words)

Notes: Written for the @coldflashweeks Coldflash Bingo 2019 prompt 'free' since it incorporated high school au and hurt comfort and magical, but it was more dystopia than all these combined. Also based off this prompt - http://snarkysnartes.tumblr.com/post/183076601380/writing-prompt-s-when-you-turn-18-you-have-to

Warnings for mention of Lewis Snart being an abusive ass****, especially to Lisa.

Read on AO3.

“Come on, Lenny. Hurry it up. I haven’t got all day.”

Len peers up with seething slowness at the counselor sitting across from him, reclining in his chair with his feet propped up on the desk, the heels of his loafers denting the edge of Len’s paper.

“You act like I’m choosing my favorite ice cream flavor, Mr. Cummings,” Len growls, returning to the packet on the table in front of him – a comprehensive list of the future careers the world has to offer. It’s a sick joke to him, really, since he knows there’s only one choice for him. As much as he loathes it, he’s going to have to choose it.

There’s too much riding on it.

“You’ve literally had your whole life to make this decision,” Mr. Cummings counters with a cruel grin. “So make your choice and be on your way.”

Mr. Cummings knows Len’s current predicament. Everyone knows. And even though it’s widely acknowledged that it sucks, very few people have any sympathy for him.

For Lewis Snart’s son.

Len hasn’t made any decisions yet, good or bad, and he’s already suffering for the sins of his father.

“Eighteen years isn’t life enough to choose what I’m supposed to do with the next eighty. And what if I don’t wanna live that long?”

“Then choose something dangerous, and you could be gone tomorrow.”

“Lucas Alexander Cummings!” a stern voice scolds from the doorway. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Mr. Cummings pops up in his chair, toppling it to the side in his haste to stand up. “Uh … Mrs. Danvers!” He scrambles to his feet. “I didn’t see you. I didn’t know you were … what can I do for you?”

“Mr. Cummings, as an occupational counselor, you’re not here to insult our students. You’re here to help guide them in their choices.”

“That’s … that’s what I was doing, Mrs. Danvers. Wasn’t I, Mr. Snart?” He turns nervously to Len, begging with his eyes for help. But Len rolls his eyes and goes back to his paperwork.

“You’re on your own with this one, Luke-y. I’ve taken up too much of your time already, remember?”

“Go see h.r., Mr. Cummings,” Mrs. Danvers says. “You’re dismissed.”

“But … but I can’t be dismissed! Counselor is my designation! I chose it at age 18!”

“You’re right. And you’ll still be a counselor. No one can take that away from you. Just not here. And if I have anything to say about it, not around children. Now go.”

“No, I … but, I …” the man pleads, but one look at the principal’s face makes her position on the subject clear. He drops his shoulders and accepts defeat. “Yes, Mrs. Danvers. Right away.”

Len keeps his eyes glued to the pages in front of him while Mr. Cummings gathers his things and heads out the door. Normally, he’d gloat, but he doesn’t have it in him.

He’s running out of time.

“Now then, Mr. Snart.” Mrs. Danvers takes a seat in the former counselor’s chair. “What seems to be the trouble?”

“I’m not having any trouble, Mrs. Danvers. That’s the problem. I know what I’m supposed to pick …”

“And what are you supposed to pick?”

“Criminal. Like my father.”

“Is that what you want to pick?”

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Of course you have a choice. Everyone has a choice.”

“But do I really though?”

Mrs. Danvers sighs. She folds her hands on the desk, running one thumb over the other. She understands where Len’s coming from. Choice is one thing. Destiny is another. She’s been in a similar position before, with a road she wanted to take … and a road she had to. “Look, Leonard, you’re a smart boy. You have talents that go far beyond what your father chose to do with his life. Don’t throw that all away because it’s what he wants.”

“If being a criminal means ‘throwing it all away’ then why is that option even in this book?”

“The book isn’t perfect. Believe me. If I and every other superhero on this planet had our way, we’d definitely take that out. But the system that governs this process is beyond our control. It comes from an ancient brain that considers things logically and without emotion. It seeks balance. Without bad, there can be no good, no ambition to overcome, no strive to do better, no want to make the world a better place. This world will always have criminals, just like it will always have heroes. But that doesn’t mean you need to be one.”

Len’s eyes dart subconsciously to the side, out the closest window. Down at the curb, a dark blue Buick sedan sits, windows tinted, idling in park. Even from a distance, Len shrinks away from it, his shoulders hunching until they reach his ears, his head bowing low to the desk. “But if I don’t … if I don’t do what he wants … he’s going to hurt her, Mrs. Danvers.”

“Who?” Mrs. Danvers asks, lowering her head to match his. “Who is he going to hurt?”

“My sister. He said so. He’s going to kill her. I can’t choose my life over hers. I just … I can’t. And no one seems to be able to help me.”

“I’m sorry, Len,” Mrs. Danvers says quietly. “Unfortunately, where it pertains to Lewis Snart, there are things I can’t ...”

Len’s hands curl into fists, his insides freezing over with fury as he listens to the principal spin the same spiel Len’s heard a thousand times before. Len knew his dad was crooked from day one – a corrupt ex-cop, an abusive husband, and a general scum of the earth. But he had his old man pegged as a petty thief. Little did he know that his douchebag father was some huge criminal mastermind, linked to other bigger criminals across the country. The CCPD apparently has every intention of putting his dad behind bars for life … eventually. But they need to drain the swamp first.

And Lewis Snart is the plug.

In the meantime, Lewis has the freedom to torture his kids however he sees fit because what are the lives of two stupid kids worth compared to all those bad guys whose apprehensions will surely put medals on countless chests and plaques on the walls at City Hall? Especially when those kids are the spawn of the lowest of the low to begin with? They probably see Len and Lisa as part of that swamp they’re emptying, and if not, collateral damage.

A sacrifice they’re willing to make.

With Len turning 18, and developing physically into a virtual wall of muscle, that makes Lisa Lewis’s preferred punching bag.

If Len chooses a different future, if he leaves his home and never looks back, he’ll be sentencing his sister to death.

A long and painful one.

“I don’t care about your plans for my dad! I only care about Lisa! What’s the point of having superheroes in this stupid town if they can’t save my sister!?”

He waits only a second for Mrs. Danvers to contradict, to ask him to reconsider and help him come up with a solution. But she doesn’t. Because there’s isn’t one.

Not one she’s willing to sign her name to.

Len grabs the book, turns to the page he has rabbit-eared, and makes his mark. Then he slides the book across the desk.

“Mr. Cummings was right,” he says, pushing back in his chair and standing up. “I had my whole life to come to this decision, and I have. I always knew what it was going to be.”

***

“Len! Len! Wait up!”

Len doesn’t stop walking, putting on a hint of speed as he heads down the hallway towards the school’s double doors, praying that he didn’t take too long, that his father’s sedan is still there.

And that Lisa’s nose isn’t broken.

“I can’t, Barry,” Len says when he hears running footsteps in pursuit. “I have to go. I just chose what I’m going to be doing for the rest of my life, and that life starts today.”

“I haven’t done mine yet. What did you check?” Barry asks, reaching Len before he can make it out the door. “Construction worker? Author? Doctor? Chef?”

Barry’s question cuts Len to the quick with every career he mentions since those were options they’d talked about, pipe dreams they’d discussed. Lying naked on Barry’s bed, covered in nothing but sweat and staring at the ceiling as if it were a sky full of stars, Len had given himself the freedom to dream of a life he knew he couldn’t have, one where he’s a regular joe, carving his own path in the world doing something he loves …

… and making love on the daily to the boy of his dreams.

But with the flick of a pen, he had to leave those dreams behind.

If he had a knife on him, he would have driven it into his own heart, ended this nightmare life before it begins.

“You kn0w what I picked, Barry,” Len says tightly. “You knew how this would end up. I told you …”

Barry’s sneakers squeak to a halt. “No!” he gasps, grabbing Len’s shoulder and yanking him around. “You didn’t! Say that you didn’t!”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you did! You do! Len! This isn’t what you want!”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be like you, Barry!” Len says, stopping to confront his boyfriend. “We don’t all get to choose what we want to do with our lives. Some of us have responsibilities to something other than ourselves! Something more important!”

“We can fix this, Len!” Barry sniffs, pulling Len close, balling his hands in the shoulders of his shirt and pressing their foreheads together, locking the world around them away. “It’s not too late. Mrs. Danvers can fix this. I can help you. Joe can help you.”

“Joe is a cop,” Len reminds him. “Cops had their chance to help me. For years. And they chose no.” He shakes his head sadly, coming to terms with the fact that this is goodbye. No one’s going to rescue him at the final buzzer. He hates himself for believing there was even a chance. “I have to do this.”

“No, Len …”

“And you, you’re going to go off and be a great forensic scientist. You’re going to join the force, and you’re going to be a cop … the right way. You’re going to fight for the good, and you’re not going to take no for an answer.”

“No, Len,” Barry whimpers, his body becoming limp the more hopeless he feels. “Let me … let me help you.”

Len puts gentle hands to the sides of Barry’s head and pulls his forehead down to his lips. He kisses Barry, feeling the moment when Barry breaks, his body shaking with sobs he tries desperately to keep locked inside his chest. Len feels Barry’s heartache, feels it like it’s his own. Because it is. His chest burns with it, the unfairness of losing a life that should have been his to begin with, not consigned by blood to a murderer. “No one can help me, Barry. From now on … I’m on my own.”

Barry holds tight to Len’s shirt when he tries to step away. Len doesn’t wrench himself free, but Barry knows he has to let him go. Willingly. This boy who spent the first seven years they knew one another tormenting him to tears, then becoming his best friend, then his boyfriend. This man who Barry wrapped a handful of his hopes and dreams around … he had to give him up. And he does. Not because he wants to. Not because he doesn’t love him. But because he loves him enough to know that without Lisa, there is no Len, and if Len doesn’t go now, Barry will be putting Lisa’s life at risk. So Barry does the hardest thing he’s done in a while.

He opens his hands, and sets Len free.

Len’s breath hitches. He steps to the side. He puts a hand on Barry’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. Slowly that hand drops away by inches, sliding down Barry’s arm, lingering at Barry’s wrist, finishing the trip from knuckles to fingertips until finally they’re no longer connected.

“I’m sorry, Barry,” Len whispers, and he walks away.

Barry doesn’t turn to watch his boyfriend leave. He doesn’t want his last image of Len to be of him walking out of his life.

Because if Barry plays his cards right, if he becomes the master of his own fate, then maybe this moment doesn’t have to be goodbye.

***

“Well, well. Barry Allen,” Mrs. Danvers says, trying to stay upbeat while watching with concerned eyes as the sullen young man enters her office. He doesn’t engage in the small talk Barry is so famous for, and he doesn’t sit down. He drops his career packet on her desk with a finality that steals every inch of air from the room. “Have you chosen your …?

“I pick superhero,” he announces, his voice conspicuously rough. Her smile falls, and she sighs. She didn’t need super hearing to know what was going on down the hall outside her office. She’s been watching Barry and Len for the past four years. She thought for sure if anyone could help Len change his mind about today’s decision, it would be him.

And now, she’s in danger of losing them both.

“Well, that is your choice,” she says, her brightness fading. “You were tested, and given the option for that special designation. But do you really want it? Superhero life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. That’s why we don’t have too many. And the ones we do have … they tend to go into exile after a decade or two.”

“My best friend just threw his life away doing what he thought was right. Because the system couldn’t help him.”

“But if you go into forensic science …”

“Then I become a part of the system. And if I become a part of that system, I’m afraid I won’t be able to help him, either. Not the way he needs. But as a superhero, I can. I can keep an eye on him. I can keep him alive. And that’s what I’m going to do.”

I will be above the law, Mrs. Danvers hears him think, and deep inside her chest, her heart shatters.

“Barry, don’t become a superhero for the wrong reasons,” she warns him. “Mind your motivations.”

“I didn’t realize that fighting for what’s right is the wrong reason, no matter what the motivation.”

“Becoming a superhero means throwing your life away just as much as becoming a criminal. You’re a smart boy,” she says, struck numb by the déjà vu. “You have a bright future. Are you willing to give that up, live a life of service and solitude, just to help your friend?”

“No,” Barry says, backing away towards the door to end Mrs. Danvers’s attempts at trying to change his mind. She wouldn’t be able to. But considering the earful he’s going to get from Joe and Iris when they find out, he doesn’t want to hear it right now. “I’m taking responsibility for something bigger than me. I’m doing this for someone I love.”

#coldflash #Barry Allen #Leonard Snart #cf1bingo2019 #frankie writes

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a34trgv2 · 5 years

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Why It Worked: The Prince of Egypt

Introduction: The Prince of Egypt is a 1998 animated Biblical historic epic directed by Brenda Chapman, Steve Hickner and Simon Wells. Produced by Penny Finkelman Cox and Sandra Rabins, with the screenplay written by Phillip LaZebnik and Nicholas Meyer, the film retells the Biblical story of Moses and how he freed the Hebrews from slavery in Egypt. The film stars Val Kilmer, Ralph Fiennes, Sandra Bullock, Jeff Goldblum, Michelle Pfeiffer, Sir Patrick Stewart, Helen Mirren, Steve Martin and Martin Short and features music and songs by Hans Zimmer and Stephen Schwartz respectively. Released on December 18, 1998, the film received very positive reviews (scoring an 80% out of 87 critics aggregated on Rotten Tomatoes, with a 7.08/10 average rating), was financially successful (making $218.6 million on a budget of $70 million), won an Academy Award for Best Original Song (When You Believe), spawned a direct-to-video prequel focusing on Joseph (the dream interpreter) and a stage musical at TheaterWorks in California in 2017. Out of the 37 animated films DreamWorks has made, I always viewed The Prince of Egypt as not just my favorite, but also their best film in terms of quality. In this post, I'm going to explain why that is and why we need more films like this.

The Plot: For those who aren't familiar with the story of Moses, it's a tale about hardship, sacrifice and deliverance. A young Hebrew baby is saved from the slaughter of Hebrew babies ordered by Pharaoh out of fear. That baby is picked up by Pharaoh's wife and is named Moses, for he was pulled out from the Nile river. Moses grows up being Pharaoh's son until he finds out his true heritage and essentially exiles himself in the wilderness. There he meets God in the form of a burning bush who tells him that He has heard the Hebrews suffering and has chosen Moses to free them. 12 plagues and 1 crossing of the Red Sea later, the Hebrews are free and Moses is hailed a hero. While this film stays true to the original text for the most part, it does make a few additions and subtractions so that the film flows naturally at an hour and 40 minutes. I could talk all day about the changes made from the text to the film (such as Moses having a stutter and Mirriam giving Moses to the Queen) but in an instance I wish was more common place when it comes to adaptations, the filmmakers provided an opening statement at the start of the film. "The motion picture you are about to see is an adaptation of the Exodus story. While artistic and historical license has been taken, we believe that this film is true to the essence, value and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide. The Biblical story of Moses can be found in the Book of Exodus." It's clear that the filmmakers had nothing but respect for the material and told a strong story about two brothers going on different paths in life. They also don't shy away from the brutality of the story, while still making it accessible for children. People are whipped, drowned, attacked by locus, and even straight up killed. What makes this film stand out from other Biblical films is that it's animated, but not like that of Disney. Where Disney tends to go for the fantastical and colorful, The Prince of Egypt is more reserved and grounded. The characters move more like humans and are designed more like Egyptian hieroglyphics and paintings than fairy tale illustrations. This grounded approach makes the fantastical stuff all the more powerful. The parting of the Red Sea (with blends 2D and 3D animation perfectly) is still one of the most iconic scenes in animation history. The animation in this film is so unlike anything I've seen before or since and it also helps that the story is well written and is brutally honest with it's depiction of slavery and a tyrant ruler.

Cast and Characters: The cast they got for this film is excellent. Sure they're celebrities who (at the time) didn't have prior experience in voice acting (with the exceptions of Michelle Pfeiffer, Jeff Goldblum, Danny Glover, Sir Patrick Stewart, Helen Mirren, Steve Martin and Martin Short). That said, in this film they nailed their respective characters. Starting off with our hero, Val Kilmer gives such a nuanced performance as Moses, making him cockey and arrogant at the start and then making him so well spoken and wise by the end. Moses is such a relatable protagonist and has a genuine arc through the film. His brash and fun loving demeanor is in direct contrast to his uptight older stepbrother, Rameses. Speaking of which, before he was Voldemort, Ralph Fiennes gave such an amazing performance as Rameses, who's at the top of my list for the best villain is DreamWorks' animated catalog. The thing about Rameses is before he became a ruthless tyrant, he strived to be just like his father, who he saw as wise, percise and a real king. At the same time he had such a good relationship with his stepbrother, Moses, that he hoped that they'd make Egypt a better place together. That all changed when Moses came back from his self imposed exile and asked him to release the Hebrews in the name of God. Ralph Fiennes showcases the right amount of worry, stubbornness and sadness of this character, and the chemistry he shares with Moses is perfect. Everyone else does a great job voicing their respective characters as well. Michelle Pfeiffer gives Tzipporah such a snarky personality and makes for a good wife to Moses, Sandra Bullock makes Mirriam such a motherly sister, Jeff Goldblum made Aaron as essentially the voice of the cynical people which this film couldn't function without (also Jeff Goldblum is always a win), and Steve Martin and Martin Short work off each other perfectly as Hotep and Huy. Then there's our Lord and Savior Himself, God. In this film, God is portrayed as the all powerful being He is as described in the Bible. He protects His people, He tells Moses exactly what to do and how to do it, He shows mercy and good favor towards the Hebrews, and He does keep His promise in bringing His people out of Egypt. Val Kilmer provides the voice of God and it sounds so majestic and calm, it's like listening to your best friend.

Songs and Music: There is not a single song in this film that I don't catch myself humming to on a daily basis. That is how powerful these songs are. The opening number, Deliver Us, perfectly captures the oppression of the Hebrews as they are whipped, pushed, and yelled at by the Egyptians. Oh and also babies are slaughtered during this scene, making the song even more powerful. Moses' song, All I Ever Wanted, plays after his encounter with Miriam and Aaron and brilliantly showcases his doubts to his upbringing; right before he's hit with that amazing dream sequence done in the style of Egypt wall paintings. Look at Your Life Through Heaven's Eyes was such an upbeat and fun song that shows you your life has meaning and you should look at it with a more optimistic perspective (through Heaven's eyes, if you will). Playing With The Big Boys is an amazing number, showing the dark mockery of God from Hotep and Huy as well as some impressive visuals (also there's this dope rock cover of the song by Jonathan Young and Caleb Hyles you should really check out: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gqlNY5iX-nA). The 12 plagues are shown via a reprise as All I Ever Wanted and it is genius. The visuals get noticeably darker with each passing plague until all of Egypt is covered in darkness. And Moses and Rameses' duet perfectly captures their opposing viewpoints during this time. Then there's the Oscar winning song, When You Believe. It's the ultimate song of hope, of faith, of belief; it's the song that should be song and heard around the world, especially today when hope and optimism are seen as being ignorant. Also, Hans Zimmer's score for this film is nothing short of magical. The way he uses brass instruments to emphasize God's power is just glorious and the choir is used in the exact place you expect there to be a choir. It's so soothing and majestic, I wish I had the soundtrack.

Where it Falters: My only gripe with the film is the ending. Not that it's bad, but that, well, it ends. Despite the film promising to bring the Hebrews to the promise land, we never actually go there. I thought they'd get to that in a sequel, but that's not likely to happen anytime soon because DreamWorks Animation swore off 2D animated films after Sinbad tanked and they're not nearly as ambitious now as they were back in the 90s and 2000s. Cosmodore made this really insightful video about how DreamWorks Animation almost went bankrupt twice and why their recent output has been geared more towards families (https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=dLa7xe5GTWw) but the tl;dr is DreamWorks Animation was 1 more financially disappointing year away from closing up shop completely. Still though, I would love to have seen a sequel to The Prince of Egypt focusing on how Moses lead the people through the wilderness.

Conclusion: The Prince of Egypt stands as one of the best animated films ever made. With an amazing soundtrack, memorable characters, beautiful animation, and a stellar voice cast, it's one of a select few films I consider a masterpiece. You could argue that it's not accurate to the story told in the Bible (a fact the filmmakers themselves acknowledge), but it does stay true to the spirit of the story and it doesn't go out of it's way to convince nonbelievers that this is truth. As a film on it's own, it's great and I hope it's watched and remembered for generations to come. Thanks so much for reading and I'll see you soon ;)

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ofstassi · 5 years

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*james charles vc* good morning kitty girls ! i’m violet & after a few months of being highkey Stressed over coll*ge she ( me ) is Finally back from the dead :) this is a mess so i apologize for what u guys are About to witness, but be sure to click that like button & subscribe if you wanna see more videos ! but seriously plot with me ple ase ok anyways

a SCARLETT LEITHOLD lookalike was strolling down broadway street in their orange prada leather flame wedge heels. anastasia “stassi” deniro just had a birthday bash for her twenty-second birthday. she has been living in new york city for twenty two years. i hear she tends to be gregarious at parties, but also kind of covetous.

FULL NAME: anastasia ( resurrection ) lucille ( french origin of light ) sage ( wise one ) deniro. NICKNAME(S): annie, stassi, stas, stasia, anything her close friends & family can come up with, she’ll love. AGE: twenty two. DATE OF BIRTH: september 21th, 1996. ASTROLOGY SIGN: virgo. GENDER: female. PRONOUNS: she / her / hers. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual. LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english, french, italian, greek, some spanish. OCCUPATION: actress, 2019 miss universe contender. BIOLOGICAL PARENTS: aldo nathaniel arthur deniro & scarlett baccouche-deniro. SIBLINGS: aurora deniro ( twenty-six ) & atlas deniro ( twenty-one ). PET(S): gracie ( shihtzu ) & baby ( toy french bulldog ). CHILDREN: none. RELIGION: roman catholic. DRINK / DRUGS / SEX: yes / no / yes. HEIGHT: 5′10. RIGHT/LEFT HANDED: ambidextrous. TATTOOS: none ( at the moment ). POSITIVE TRAITS: gregarious, perceptive, audacious, quick-witted. NEGATIVE TRAITS: covetous, controlling, obstinate, snarky. NOTABLE HABITS: tying her hair up in a bun when she’s focused, fleeing the country when conflict within herself arises, unable to hide her facial expressions. NECESSITIES: green tea latte, lucky pen, lavender, 2 diamond-encrusted cartier bracelets ( gifted by her father ). LIKES: fighting, pastel blues, macarons, traveling, architecture, knowing all the answers. DISLIKES: small spaces, losing, anything orange flavored, the smell of gasoline. NET WORTH: 18 million.

𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚛𝚘.

the story of the deniros was easily depicted as nothing short of a classic fairytale ; nathaniel was next in line to run his family’s long-standing business worth more than you could put into words, while scarlett baccouche, the daughter of two british politicians was also a woman in power many learned to fear. given their elite statuses, it was no surprise to anyone when they had enrolled into columbia university, one of the most prestigous colleges in the country ; though the story of how they’d become enamored with one another had started with a hatred that had only melted the forthcoming years. it was what one would consider a true love story as they graduated, professed their vows, & conceived their first well-anticipated child, aurora deniro. it only took a couple years for the deniros to calculate the birth of their next child, & to settle down & begin their empire ; or as most would put it, a family.

on october 21st, 1996, anastasia lucille sage deniro was born. she was the second, yet not the last child to arrive, meaning her place in the home was that she was a middle child. it had its perks, obviously —— not reigning the full responsibilities of what it meant to be the first & oldest child, or not being taken seriously as most younger siblings struggle with. see, from the very beginning of her life, stassi was well aware of the fact that she wasn’t a child, and she didn’t want to be treated as such ; the female figures in her life such as aurora & her mother ( even their maid, diana had landed a fond place in stassi’s heart ) were the girl’s inspiration growing up, & thanks to their strict upbringing, they were raised with class & were put on a pedestal that expected nothing less than perfection.

stassi was five years old when she had asked —— or more so, begged her parents to compete in pageants ( only the most prestigious ones, of course ). while her mother didn’t take much convincing as her & little stassi had grown to share many loved interests such as acting, her father was apprehensive about the decision. but because the main factor besides beauty for pageants were intelligence, he agreed, though it resulted in him piling that much more pressure upon her for schoolwork & of course, to win so it wouldn’t disgrace the deniro family name. whatever child worked hard, stassi worked 100 times harder, thanks to her brilliant work ethic ; she managed to skillfully juggle her schoolwork alongside the additional business classes her parents had given their three children, the acting classes, her private ballet & jazz lessons 7 days a week for the talent portion, & the countless hours of tailoring her custom-made outfits ( with her input, of course ) it wasn’t a shocker to anyone when she was crowned little miss new york.

by sixteen, the pressure had only multiplied as she grew older, striving for nothing but the best. she was preparing for the miss world competetion rounding up another win at nationals. high school was supposed to be the best years of your life, yet she turned down any youthful opportunity as a means to please her parents. that is, until a fellow classmate introduced her to adderall ; the tiny, magical pill that enhances your focus, granting you more hours of the day to pass your tests with flying colors & maintain your social life, because who needed sleep ? flash forward to her senior year, where her life was crafted to perfection —— she held the title of miss world that year, got accepted into columbia on a full scholarship ( not that she needed it ), had the perfect jock boyfriend on her arm & friends that were on top of the hierarchy with her, class valedictorian: the only thing was she became reliant on her pills.

it was prom night when the realization had dawned on her that the bubble encompassing her perfect life was made of glass. when it came to the deniros, the extent of her social life was partly a double life. while she wasn’t nearly as bad as her brother, she wasn’t exactly an angel, either ; stuffing silk pillows under her duvet to cast the illusion of a sleeping stassi if diana or her older sister, aurora, would check up on her that night, adorning an innocent white lace dress to her parents only to hike it further up the moment she met up with her peers. she learned it was a skill of hers, keeping secrets.

popping pills had managed to become one, too, which is why after winning prom queen & attempting to get belligerently wasted, she hadn’t even felt the effects of the alcohol in her system. stassi woke up in a secluded hospital room with her parents beside her, along with a nurse. her blood work revealed that she’d gotten severe alcohol poisoning & had she not passed out, a few more drinks & she would’ve overdosed from the mix of adderall.

due to the fact that this was anastasia’s first slip-up, as disappointed as they were, the anger had faded just as soon as it arrived. & given the recent events with atlas’s friend along with her acceptance to columbia, rehab wasn’t a suggestion —— it was her only option. she’d go to a private rehabilitation center during the summer while her parents covered it up on her records & the deniro family would have to convince everybody that she was just visiting her grandparents in spain: it was a family secret that stassi had to take to the grave.

now, she’s twenty-two years old, currently enrolled in columbia as a business major for the sake of maintaining her role in her parent’s good graces, despite the fact that she’s not interested in helping take over the family business while she’s training for the 2019 miss universe pageant. for the past two summers, when she wasn’t in spain, she was in paris for some time to herself, where she met an owner of a small boutique where there were items such as trinkets, custom-made dresses, etc.

somehow, it inspired stassi to create her own boutique/shop in multiple cities but new york first, especially when she carries the knowledge on how to turn a business into an empire: her own empire. it may be a small one now, but it was a break from the constant approval seeking that was practically instilled in her ; and at least it was hers. she even went to spain over winter break to hint the ideas to her grandparents, just now returning to the city & avoiding her parents so she can delay telling them that she isn’t interested in running the family company alongside her siblings like they dreamed of. after all, it was her parents’ approval that mattered most.

𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚜 & 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚜.

ok hi i’m keeping this long & short

because stassi’s a pageant girl, she was bound to cross paths with honey boo boo when her reality tv show was kicking off, & now she’s stassi’s sworn enemy even to this day

ik they aren’t even in the same age group but fun fact stassi fought children & she still does tbh i hate her

she’s basically an angel in front of her parents but like ?? really different to her friends/people she hates ??

definitely doesn’t have a filter, she doesn’t cuss that much bc “it’s not ladylike :)” but she for sure speaks her mind & she can actually be really mean without meaning to be

she snaps really easily too omg i just imagine her being all cute & smiley & doing a complete 180 the next

she’s definitely stronger than she looks just know that

fully obsessed with dogs like next level obsessed she needs help

also a really big perfectionist if you couldn’t tell ?? please imagine her penthouse being all white & spotless & i know she arranges shit in other people’s houses out of habit

she’s basically monica geller, caroline from tvd & louise from bob’s burgers all wrapped up in one person

it’s honestly such a cursed combination i’m telling u guys she really is the spawn of satan

she’s a momma’s girl though 💗 she loves her dad ofc don’t get me wrong but they get along better when he just buys her gifts skdjsks

also !! i loosely based her off of one of my rly old charas emmie & i have a pinterest for her here if you wanna see what she’s kinda sorta like

i’ll probably make my own for stassi but u know for context

also stassi’s aesthetic 100000%

i’m still fleshin’ her out, so it’s a whole mess but i’m so excited to develop her & i hope you guys don’t hate her guts yet ! i promise she’s nicer than i described, but i do have some plot ideas ( i’m just too lazy to list them help me ), so pls plot with me i’ll do all the work i promise

#wealthyhq:intro #I JUST REALIZED I DDIDNT TAG IT

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caphayzardous · 5 years

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*taps idly* ... well, upon request of no one, I wrote out 1,460 words explaining some of the reasoning behind the songs on Vasraen’s playlist (LINK), excluding the Elton John ones because I’ll admit that was just a pretty brief phase and they don’t really suit it anymore. Read if ya want. No pressure.

Vasraen’s Playlist – Caution to the Wind

Tangled Angel by Coda

Lilting strings and plucks, this song embodies its title. Delicate, fluttering, and despairing; swooning, swooping, and falling. I think the mood of this piece really suits Vasraen. I wouldn’t necessarily say he’s angelic, but I also wouldn’t say angels are innocent. The song captures naivety, airy and loving, thrown into turmoil by fate of one’s own carelessness. Tumbling on down.

Love Over Gold [Live] by Dire Straits

Lyrically, this song is just perfect for him. I personally love the lyrics and it has some beautiful lines that have always stood out to me. From the start, there’s dance – and.I have always interpreted that as literal rather than metaphorical, have always imagined Love Over Gold as a song to and about a dancer or performer,

You walk out on the high wire, You’re a dancer on thin ice. You pay no heed to the danger, And less to advice.

With the context of the song I take this to mean personal danger (including emotional). The safety of Vasraen’s companions is paramount to him – but his own safety can be an afterthought, mostly because he often has full faith that he will succeed through diplomacy (and he’s not the best judge of how he may endanger others should he fail). Love Over Gold also follows Tangled Angel in the theme of naivety; Vasraen knows bad people exist, but often believes that he can still sway them with kindness alone, and this belief definitely persists against the advice of others.

Your footsteps are forbidden, But with the knowledge of your sin You throw your love to all the strangers And caution to the wind.

Didn’t I say it was perfect? This works very literally for Vasraen. Be it from Lolth or Vhaeraun, Vasraen has gone off course, and his every step away from his home in the Underdark is ‘sin’. So, knowing this, what does he do? Throws his love to all the strangers, and caution to the wind…

It takes love over gold, And mind over matter, To do what you do that you must. When the things that you hold Can fall and be shattered They can run through your fingers like dust.

I’ll admit, in both a regular interpretation and a Vasraen-specific interpretation, that I deviate into metaphor for this one. The song is even called Love Over Gold and should cement that the final lines refer to the fleetingness of material – alas, not how I hear it. I always imagine it not as the shattering of material things, but rather, memories and relationships and whole swathes of the life you have known, lost, changed, gone forever. And Vasraen, well…

Creature Lives by Mastodon

And now, something almost lyrically irrelevant. This was chosen more for the mood of it, as well as the blunt empathy, and the hopefulness. The friend who introduced me to this song said it was something like his ‘you’re gonna be alright, kid’ song, something that could make him feel better.

I saw the creature fall, Into the swamp from which he spawned I heard them laugh and say They never liked him anyway

I tried to talk to them To help you on your feet again They laughed and said to me The swamp is right where I should be

The creature lives The creature lives The creature lives The creature lives

Make Love by Daft Punk

Just a relaxing synthy song for someone who likes to make out.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen

This was chosen for Vasraen by the DM, and it’s basically in the title. This song is spectacularly candid and endearing, so unabashed and light-hearted. Makes some disgustingly clichéd and capitalized romance tropes seem fun.

Heart Upon My Sleeve by Avicii

The titular phrase suits Vasraen, but otherwise I can’t explain why this instrumental tracks stands out to be me as a fit. I think it adds some bass and depth to playlist, and so can allude to that in his character. Heart Upon My Sleeve doesn’t strike me as any kind of ‘happy go lucky’ song, either. It sounds a little tumultuous or desperate, a bit like striving or trying.

Baby We’ll Be Fine by The National

Again, I’m already a big fan of this song, it really strikes a chord with me. It speaks of a whole-hearted and desperate façade, it’s trying really hard to be okay, it’s trying really hard to convince yourself and others that you’re okay, it’s a near-manic energy pulled taut over something broken and tired and ready to fall apart at any moment. Projecting outwards and refusing to turn inwards lest you cave in entirely – and you do cave entirely.

Green Theme by Baroness

I’ve already spoken before about Baroness’ double album Yellow & Green, “drowning in brine”, “bile, tides, and resignation”, “shallow waves”. Green Theme is on the calm shallows and resignation side of things. Nothing too deep to this one in terms of Vasraen, just a calm song for him.

Sexy Boy by Air

I removed this from the playlist for a time, but felt it’s absence. Musically it just sits so perfectly adjacent to the other songs. The lyrics are mostly in French; I’ve looked up a translation before, but forgot. The key idea is ‘Sexy Boy’. That’s about it.

Wake Up Your Saints by Tha National

I’ve seen this song interpreted as not, in fact, about any such faith in saints, but faith in a partner. From the bridge and chorus:

It’s easy to lose your grip It’s easy

So I walk through the streets I love And I’m led to the house I built So I walk through the streets I love And I lay in your bed again

Wake up your saints, Jenny, I need them Jenny, I need them Today

Kind of like having faith in a person’s practical nature, rather than any practice itself. That context aside: For Vasraen, I mostly just love the jaunty pep, and candid and practical voice of it. “Wake up your saints” as a phrase just seems very parallel to his candid (if still awestruck) relation to Eilistraee and his clerical powers in general. As a bonus, there are some other select lines that are appropriate, including this opening,

I had a hole in the middle, where the lightning went through,

Vasraen of course has a Lichtenberg scar right over his heart. And later,

She said you’re right, it’s a living, but you’re wrong for the life, You know you never should’ve listened to my father’s advice.

Vasraen was perfectly successful at his pursuits and mission before leaving the Underdark and running away. The second line is less relevant, but depending on the voice, or by changing the relation, it could fit. (Eilistraee – my brother’s advice. Perhaps Vas himself, his own father’s advice. Perhaps Yterra, her mothers advice.) It doesn’t need to be exact to communicate that Vasraen had a lot of influences to deviate from.

with love by Elbow

This song is just a bit nice, though my feelings toward Elbow can change now and then (at times they are utterly boring to me). Put simply, with love is just about friendship:

When your dentures prevent your smile These adventures will fill your eyes With love

Les Champs-Elysées by Joe Dassin

What can I say, this song is about fun and love along The Avenue des Champs-Élysées, in Paris. It’s got nothing to do with him. It’s just a fun song.

Gramofón as performed by the Symphony Orchestra of the National State Teleradio Company of the Republic of Belarus

The DM played this song during a dream/dance/religious vision sequence Vasraen had with the goddess Eilistraee.

Vienna by Ultravox

This means nothing to me This means nothing to me

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go by Wham!

I just think he’d like it. I think he’d like George Michael. What I mean is that I love this song and George Michael and it suits Vasraen and his playlist because I say so. I can’t yet dance like George Michael does in this video, but Vasraen could.

I Am Sound by The Dandy Warhols

Less so the chorus, the verses in this song are all extremely fitting. I also like the vibe of it.

For have I, I’ve built a castle Upon believing before I doubt. I have suffered but my friends say I have learned from it. And for have I believed the snow could Not be freezing upon the ground Now my ass is blue and black, but I am sound.

And for have I belonged to no one More than fleetingly and in doubt, I have had what now is gone, But still I’ve known them.

#vasraen #vasraen ma'aun #goblinsquad dnd #caphaytext #sorry if you open this to my blog on desktop the tiny font is night unreadable sorry sorry #nigh*

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free-essays · 6 years

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English II Honors - Essay

An anylysis of the main character Okonkwo from the story Things Fall Apart

Okonkwo, a Tragic Hero Analysis

The term “tragic hero” was first brought about by a great Greek philosopher named Aristotle. Since then many characters have been created in this image of a majorly flawed hero (or sometimes villian); some common names such as Anakin Skywalker, Oedipus Rex, and even Dr.House from, well, House. Every hero has a flaw, but tragic heroes have five main problems, as stated by Aristotle, and Okonkwo fits every one: hamartia, peripeteia, anagnorisis, a noble birth (or high status in general, in his case), and catharsis. Okonkwo is a classic tragic hero, but I believe there are three that really fit him the most: his hamartia (or fatal flaw), peripeteia (reversal of fortune), and catharsis (sympathy of audience) (Literary Devices 1).

The first thing that makes Okonkwo a true-and-blue tragic hero is his hamartia. This means the one major flaw that eventually brings the character to his downfall. Okonkwo’s biggest flaw in the story is his fear of weakness by far. All of Okonkwo’s decisions in life are driven by his pride, and his fear that people will look down upon him for his birth. His fear of being lesser causes him to do many things that lead to his “fall”, to the extent of killing his adoptive son. Before we touch on why his aversion takes him down, we must first understand why he has such a need to be so strong and powerful. His father was a nobody in the clan, he borrowed and did not return, and he left Okonkwo with nothing. This made Okonkwo strive to be better, but so much so that he feared anything else. He had to be fearless, strong, a “man of action, a man of war” (Achebe 7). Any sort of emotion went against the idea that he could be prideful in how strong he was compared to his father, and it is because of this that he climbs to a top rank in the village (giving him such a long way to fall by the end of the story), and it is also because of this that he treats everyone around him so poorly. One example of this, is how he treats his son, Nwoye. He considers his son low and lazy, and he refuses to accept that anything spawning from himself would be so weak. He almost kills one of his wives just to get his anger out, and he, without needing to himself, killed his adoptive son. His tragic flaw, fear, is enhanced when the English come. Okonkwo sees change as weak, and when he realizes his clan will not fight such change, he believes that the only option would be to kill himself- which he does. It is because of his fear that he has a fall at all, and thus gives him a tragic hero ending. But that ending could happen without the second trait, which brings me to my next point.

The second thing that makes him a tragic hero is his peripeteia, or reversal of fortune. At the beginning of his life he had no status, farm, or wealth; therefore he started out with no luck to lose. This changed when he built his way to a high status within the clan, which set him up to have a long fall back to being disfortunate. The first turn for the worse happened when Okonkwo accidentally shot a boy in the tribe during a ceremony, causing him to be exiled for seven years. Being exiled, having to move into a place with new people, and having to swallow his pride; that is definitely a misfortunate event for Okonkwo but sadly it is just the beginning. Furthermore, another event that really made a bad impact on Okonkwo’s life would be English colonizers arriving, settling, and messing up clan life. This is pretty self explanatory, as it not only leads to Okonkwo’s eventual suicide by hanging, but another major event: his son Nwoye becoming Christian. This was the absolute ultimate betrayal to Okonkwo, his son turning into what he feared and despised the most. ““Where have you been?” he [Okonkwo] stammered. Nwoye struggled to free himself from the choking grip. “Answer me,” roared Okonkwo, “before I kill you!” He seized a heavy stick ... [and] hit him two or three savage blows.“Answer me!” he roared again. Nwoye stood looking at him and did not say a word. The women were screaming outside, afraid to go in.” (Achebe 16-19). This is what really made him start to lose hope in his clan. Speaking of his suicide, this leads me to my last reasoning for why he is a tragic hero.

The third and final thing that makes Okonkwo a tragic hero is the catharsism, or sympathy, the audience experiences near and at the end. Most people do and should feel bad for Okonkwo by the end of the story; he was exiled, he is so messed up from his father’s actions that you can not help but feel bad, and the English coming in and ruining everything is definitely a heart jerker. Maybe none of this affects people on the literal level that it appears in the story, but it is all stuff people can relate to. Accidentally messing up and being wrongfully punished because of it, having to move somewhere totally different (or at least somewhere you do not want to go), having someone you want great things for failing you, and even the massive change of new people coming in and making things different. These are all things most people can understand, so while most people can not relate with hanging themselves; the idea of having so little hope in something that you want to give up… that really hits some people. Not only that, but as the protagonist you can not help but to root for Okonkwo, towards the end you generally crave him to stand up to the English, to fight back for his clan and home. When he anticlimactically kills himself, it adds to the mood of the ending, leaving the reader to feel even more sympathy for him.

In conclusion, Okonkwo’s story is misfortunate and ultimately makes him a tragic hero. From his fear of weakness, to his misfortune, to the reader’s remorse at his suicide. Tragic heroes are one of the most interesting characters to write and read about, they are dynamic and emotion provoking. Just imagine the Star Wars series if Luke had had a normal cookie cutter father who did not almost kill his mom. Not near as interesting. Perfect heroes are boring, and so when they have flaws like real people, it allows a deeper connection with the plot and character. This is probably one of the main reasons why this is such a popular story; as even though the author is biased, he shows flaws on both sides.

Sources

"Tragic Hero - Examples and Definition of Tragic Hero." Literary Devices. N.p., 08 Dec. 2015. Web. 26 May 2016.

Achebe, Chinua. Things Fall Apart. New York: Anchor, 1994. Print.

"ARISTOTLE & THE ELEMENTS OF TRAGEDY: English 250." Aristotle's Tragic Terms. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 May 2016.

#essay #english ii #english 2 #things fall apart #okonkwo #english

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jmaria200 · 4 years

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Guidelines for Surviving American Culture Now

America is a country liberties, wealth, and technological advancement that are often unheard of in much of the world. We can generally marry who we choose, vote for who we want too, and our freedom of speech is protected. Our poorest citizens still have more than most of Bangladesh. But it would be naive to think that such benefits do not come at a cost. We are a people with a crises of identity as we strive live up to lofty enlightenment goals set by our founding fathers and fail to repeatedly. Our current society is marked by predatory capitalism, degradation of social welfare, and inequality fostered in part of a rapid technological expansion and a societal decline. We’re no where near anarchy but, realistically, these factors have eaten away at the organization foundations that support everyday life increasing the likelihood of being exploited. I’ve brought together guidelines, some which are researched and some common sense, to hopefully help bolster the chance of healthy living in today’s America.

1.) Avoid commercials in any form. They’re usually meant to make you feel insecure or sell you stuff you don’t need. Listen to public radio stations without commercials, mute or switch television, and radio stations when commercials come on. Subscribe to streaming channels that don’t have commercials like Netflix. Educate yourself on products and places out there instead of being fed information by advertisers.

2.) In fact, try to limit television and other media as much as possible. It is a very America past time and actually can keep you isolated from other people that can make your life more exceptional.

3.) Ditto for computer and your phone.(Wait did I advocate for putting down the phone. Oh, no. Not one of those people!) Yes, these are tools that have their place in our society and should remain there. When they become almost a way of life (think of two people sitting at a table together looking at their phones) things have gone to far.

4.) Instead have real hobbies. After you pull away from the electronics, you might find that you have time for maybe taking up dancing or building models.

5.) Avoid the typical American diet, especially processed sugars. I recommend reading books by authors like Michael Pollan that advocate for whole, natural foods. You’ll probably lose weight and feel much better.

6.) Cook your own food and eat in as much as possible. If the food is tasty and relatively healthy, the company is welcome, and the ambience is amazing, yes, enjoy your night out at a restaurant. This is a special moment. Eating out should be special. I think in this country we’ve become enamored with eating out because we’re tired, lazy, busy, etc. We drag ourselves to grim, sterile places and suck down greasy food. This perspective has spawned America’s fast food nation and it has helped make us sickly. We even export fast food to other countries. It is something we are known for and that is not good. This is a case again where people who want to make money don’t always have our best interest at heart. Even sit down restaurants can put a lot of fat, salt, and sugar in their foods. Sometimes it’s just about appealing to our urges. When someone else prepares our food we just don’t really know what is in there. When we make our own food, we can have more control over our diet and what we put in our bodies. We can choose to eat whole, natural foods instead of stuff created in laboratories. If we are demoralized about our lives then we will often won’t care what we put in our bodies, which is not caring about ourselves.

7.) Treat media, social, and otherwise, with care. Just like we should be careful what we let in our bodies so should we be with what we let in our heads. Yes, I have a Facebook account, but no I don’t believe it is anyway a true substitute for a face to face friendship. Once again use social media a tool to get something done or keep in touch with already established friends, but you’ll probably end up alone and depressed if you actually think most of those followers are true friends or that everyone else’s life is perfect as seen in posted pictures. Media in general can sell you on many opinions and ideas. It’s up to you to decide who you are going to listen too and about what. This is when being educated and a critical thinker really helps.

8.) So read (and sometimes watch) stuff that informs you, challenges you, and gets you thinking. Yes,we can all veg out on mindless entertainment. The American movie industry has proven that time and again through the years. You can also go through life mindlessly as well unsure and afraid about what is happening around you and rallying to causes you don’t know much about and watching the institutions of this country crumble. Plenty of business people and crooked politicians will love you for it. But if you come armed with an informed perspective then you can be an active citizen of a democracy and standing for something.

9.) On that note, get out and make connections. Join associations. Volunteer. Attend a civic meeting. These have become lost arts in our culture of sitting home and streaming media. Such activities will almost always improve your life as you meet new people. Don’t worry so much about what people think. If you’re authentic people will connect with you. Everyone is insecure out there in some way like you.

10.) Really understand what it means to be authentic vs inauthentic. I didn’t know the answer to this riddle for most of my life. I usually thought being authentic as having the near perfect life, but that is a distortion like the pictures on Facebook. Authenticity is something that comes from knowing and loving who you are and accepting that faults and all. It also means that because you are comfortable and compassionate with yourself you will want to be that way with others. Being inauthentic is often connected to fear and anxiety about ourselves and the world around us. Fear contributes to insecurity and making poor choices especially in the face of stress. Modern American life has gotten especially stressful as we are afforded less and less control over our lives therefore...

11.) You will need to learn how to manage chronic stress, anxiety, and other negative thoughts and emotions if you want to live authentically. Human beings were designed with the same fight or flight response as all other living things on this planet. It helps keep us alive. But modern society has plenty of ways to send this system into overdrive where we find ourselves anxious and worrying. Fear and anxiety contribute to poor values and a break down of social ties. Rule of thumb is if your doing productive worrying over real problems that’s okay but if it’s just plain general anxiety, that is probably a bigger problem that needs to be rooted out. You will probably have to make some decisions about changing your values and your lifestyle, which can be good.

12.) Beware of those who are inauthentic. They’re more common than you think. Human beings are social creatures who are actually designed to bond with each other with compassion and empathy and, while we are all inauthentic or insecure at times to others, there are those who are inauthentic about who they are. They often lack empathy and seek to antagonize and take advantage others. These are often people who were raised by insensitive parents or caretakers and developed personality disorders like narcissism, Machiavellian, or psychopathy. Essentially they are people who are self centered and have questionable or no morality. Often they can end up in positions of power as they are ambitious and savvy. In a climate of fear these personalities can gain influence and control by manipulating others as is increasingly common in modern America. Being self loving and compassionate towards ourselves and each other is the best defense.

13.) But do listen to reasonable people with different opinions. Our somewhat quarantined lifestyles combined with the constant influx of information has divided Americans along many different lines. We tend to exist in echo chambers where we can hear our opinions and beliefs bounced back at us and never really know what the other side believes. You might be surprised that if they’re rationale they’re probably more similar than you think.

14.) Get out in nature. Today there is so much living we can do in our houses and office buildings staring at screens. But I’m not sure I would call that living. Even on nice days I rarely see people outside or outside for long in my neighborhood. Humans lived close to nature for thousands of years. Our separation from it is only a recent phenomenon. Research has shown that nature can help with emotional and psychological well being and it’s good exercise. Also you’ll be more likely to go green as much as possible if you actually see what is out there to save.

15.) Opt for public transportation whenever possible. America fell in love with the automobile and fell hard. After all it contributes to our privacy and sense of independence. One could say now we’re having some buyers remorse as we sit in seemingly endless traffic jams. I don’t know about you, but I think driving brings out some of the worst in people too especially in a time of social corrosion where road rage incidents are climbing. Yes, your city may not have much in the way of a public transportation system, like many American cities, but still use it when you can. Again you will be helping the environment.

16.) Go green whenever possible. At this point in human history, this guideline is common sense. We depend on this planet and we have damaged it. Not trying to something about this issue is more about lack of willpower than lack of information and understanding. Yes, going cold turkey on driving a car or using plastic is probably not realistic right now, but do the little things like recycling, limiting water usage, pushing for greener options with your wallet, etc.

17.) Be educated about education. Sure it is mandated and can be great to have an education in this country. Life today requires too much not to be. But be smart about your education. Be aware of the state of American public school systems that still churn out students on an industrial level. Be aware of the business nature of colleges that often sell one on the promise of a bright future with a large price tag attached. Determine first if college is even right for you.

18.) Football is a game. I have often considered European futbol (soccer) a drawn out, dull sport. What the hell is so exciting about people running up and down a field for hours? Where’s the big scores, amazing tackles, and seemingly constant last minute heroics of American football? Yes, the National Football League boasts huge scores, salaries, and profits. Sunday is the day devoted to football and the Superbowl is practically a holiday. Fans often live and die by their team. Heaven help a losing season. On the other hand, my concern is how the NFL is really slick marketing of a product where the more superficial aspects of current American ideology: winning and celebrity leave behind good solid character and sportsmanship that people should be aspiring too in society, especially children. How often do you hear about a player that is cheered for getting out there and just doing a solid job? Football tends to play into the cultural paradigm that being exceptional is what matters and anything less, well, ends up in the Canadian Football League. Not to mention the most exceptional team today, the New England Patriots, has constantly been accused of cheating and stealing. It is a league whose power often allows it to defines it’s own narrative forgetting the darker side of what is by definition a violent sport where people sacrifice their bodies( Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy anyone?). Also when it comes to the endless excitement, I’ve heard there is only eleven minutes of actual action in a football game. Eleven minutes! The rest of that three to four hour game is people walking up and down a field, huddling up, kicking off, and most of all commercials poured on so thick that it is nearly suffocating.(Take that soccer). Consider the cost of a single football game with parking, food, beer, etc can range into the hundreds of dollars for that eleven minutes of action. Whether the experience is worth the money depends on the person, but, in an age when less and less of us have expendable income, the ‘true’ fans still seem to fork over the money without a second thought. When it comes the fanatics raging in their chairs, it generally it’s just not healthy when one’s emotional well being hinges on anything outside of themselves, sports or otherwise. The guys on the field should know this as well. Either way it is awkward to watch a grown man have temper tantrum in his living room or on the sidelines over a lost game. Don’t get me wrong. Many NFL players, staff, etc. are amazing people and athletes who work their asses off and deserve what they earn, but these achievements and the league as a whole should be kept in a realistic light. The NFL is an organization that needs to be held accountable for what it does and how it treats its players, its fans, and, in the end, football, like a soccer, is a game for entertainment. We are entertained and then we turn off the TV or drive home from the stadium.

19.) Spirituality and religion: Anyone who has lived in America realizes that American life is heavily influenced by organized religion especially the many forms of Christianity. While some form of spirituality, or belief in something bigger than oneself, is considered part of emotional maturity being part of a organized religion is a choice. This idea tends to get lost as people are often indoctrinated by their parents, or other caregivers, and this grooming is reinforced by the large community or society. Such an omission is common as it opens the door for dissension in faiths. In other words, while one can leave a religion, one often doesn’t because of potentially being ostracized. I believe that if the faith one was brought up in no longer fits, then one has the right to follow their desires and beliefs on what spirituality means to them. If one does remain in an organized religion I heavily recommend doing so with eyes wide open. While there are plenty of decent people serving religious mission, the blind faith religions engender is often allows exploitation especially in current times when people can feel lost and vulnerable and are looking for answers. Despite their supernatural underpinnings, religious organizations are organizations run by humans, therefore, they are vulnerable to human error.

20.) Get enough sleep: Today’s America wants to keep you doing things and distracted as much as possible, which keeps you off the sheets. Since the invention of the light bulb and the electric grid, humans can now live well into the night, however no one told our biorhythms that still operate on the original daylight schedule. Less than seven hours of sleep is typically not enough for the average human being despite the modern ‘remedy’ that is caffeine. A self professed night owl, I’m as guilty as the next guy when it comes to staying up late. Daily life is taxing on living creatures and sleep is the brain and bodies way of hitting the pause button to regroup and heal. Putting it bluntly, if you don’t sleep enough you are wearing your body and mind down overtime and you can probably expect a host of health problems.

21.) Be skeptical of mainstream culture and “common sense”. Doing what everyone else is doing seems mandated especially when you’re a teenager and trying to figure out who the hell you are. When you mature enough you figure out who you are and understand just pointless it was to want to be like others.

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