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nikolaorsinovapologist · 3 years

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Just gonna write out all of my ideas for a Sophie and Filip are Twins au

-Filip gardens, and he just enjoys the outdoor and animals, logs all of the bugs he find among his flowers

-Fil is as Popular with the Ladies as Sophie is popular with the Guys

-He gets along ok with Agatha, they would interact minimully but if put into a situation where they had to interact one on one they would get along

-He obviously wasnt chosen to go to the school, and really didn't want to in the first place anyways, but he always tried to support Sophie with her dream of being a princess, if he did he would probably be a Never like his sister

- Sophie is the only one who's allowed to cut and use his Flowers without permission, but there are certain ones that are off limits even to her

- I am personally electing for The Books after the 3rd book do not happen in this au, as well as the Sophie and Agatha are actually sisters doesn't happen/doesn't exist because it's stupid, is never brought up again after its revealed and I simply hate it

- Sophie after becoming the Dean of Evil, she convinces Filip to help her with the redecorating of the Castle, specifically the gardens, he doesn't mind because he gets free food and housing, and he gets to get away from his father

- he doesn't have the best relationship with his dad, having to deal with him while Sophie was at the school, which was mildly unbearable for him

-He also uses Make up, Sophie taught him how to when they were younger and I mean the prettier the better

- His magic would either be Pink or Green, Pink because sometimes twins are like that man, and it would simply be interesting, or green because you know, gardening, plants

- Filip is gay and Sophie is Aro-Ace, she just sort of gives off that vibe, idk man

- most of Filips friendships have been with Women, since as a child he spent his time with his mother and sister, and just stayed close with his sister,and he is kind of awkward around other men

- he's seen as "The Nice Twin" of the two of them, often helping out people with their gardens and such, he has a good reputation

- Sophie is pretty much the same as in the books, maybe a bit snarkier but thats only really with Filip

- similar to how he's outwardly portrayed in the book he's very awkward around other boys and doesn't "Act like a boy"

- despite his reputation as "The nice twin" both him and Sophie have a mean streak, but he's much better at hiding it, backhanded comments and mean things disguised as compliments are what he uses

- Tedros doesnt meet him during his and Agatha's time in their Village, he probably visited only Agatha at some point but felt it really wasn't his business as long as his sister was safe he didn't care

- Tedros meets Filip during a visit to Sophie with Agatha and he absolutely does a double take and once/if they become friends Tedros absolutely ends up with a huge crush on Fil, and his flirting is misconstrued by Fil as being annoying

- quick stuff for my au, Later into the relationship, a little after the end of the 3rd book, Agatha and Tedros realize that they're not in love in the way they thought, they're still "Soulmates" or what ever this book calls it., But the romance was all heat of the moment, they continue for the wedding because the old men who run Camelot would be pissed, but they're relationship is simply very close friends

- They are both planning on seeking out other romantic relationships after the wedding, only continuing the marriage for the "good of the kingdom" Tedros doesn't want to end up in a loveless and unhappy marriage, so they don't try to force themselves to be in love romantically, man I'm just doing this as a dig at the stupid implications of the book saying the most fulfilling relationships have to be romantic, let them be platonic soulmates bestie

- Sophie and Filip's father dislikes them mostly because they remind him of their Mother, and they don't act like he wants them to, Sophie is a boisterous and loud girl who doesn't stay home and cook and clean like he wants her too, and Filip is a sharp but awkward boy who just wants to live a quiet life and garden, instead of chop wood and other manly things like him

Feel free to add any more ideas in the tags or comments, I just want to talk about this au with someone

#sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #sophie of woods beyond #filip of mount honora #sfgae filip #sfgae sophie #agatha of woods beyond #tedros of Camelot #sgfae au #sge au #idk what to call this au .#school for good and evil au

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livsinpjs · 3 years

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✨Liv’s Random BNHA Headcannons✨

includes kiribaku

pt. 1(?) bakusquad individual hcs

-Katsuki Bakugou-

his quirk started damaging his hearing at a young age so he started to learn sign language. (he and izuku learned together; kasuki said they should learn so they could have a secret language as heroes together.) by the time he reached middle school he was completely deaf in one ear and hard of hearing in the other. he has custom hearing aids and is fluent in sign by the time he made it into U.A.

he lowkey has PTSD over the sludge villain attack. especially after the sports festival peeps chained him up. he had a huge panic attack after he was alone.

His mom is emotionally manipulative and has his father under her thumb. sometimes she get physical and that upbringing shaped bakugou’s personality.

once he gets to U.A. and meets the bakusquad he realizes that there are people just and powerful and awesome as him(tho he’s loathsome to admit it) and that helps bring his blatant narcissism down. and once he and izuku have their fight and they become sort of friends, more acquaintances, he realizes his past mistakes

he sees hound dog twice a month in secret after kirishima convinced him that he needed to talk out his feelings, but he refuses to go anymore than that

he has lots of random hidden talents which include but are not limited to, playing the drums, ballet, and surprisingly, origami

he was never really into the whole “liking” someone trend throughout school, especially girls, he was more focused on training to be a hero, but then he met kirishima and found himself getting butterflies more and more around him. but he keeps his mouth shut about his feelings until kiri confronts him first

-Eijirou Kirishima-

definitely has a form of anxiety. he takes medication for it and is better at handling it in highschool than in middle school. when he gets anxious he grits his teeth and bites his inner cheek. it usually end with a bloody mouth because of his teeth.

his teeth are hereditary. he was just born that way.

obviously he has two moms. they are the ones who encourage eijirou to be himself, himself being a very manly, empathetic guy.

he really looks up to mina and is really close with her.

he thought he had a man crush on bakugou but it turns out it was just a regular crush.

once it finally clicks in his brain he tells bakugou how he feels and they get together quickly after that

huge feminist. it’s manly to support equal rights.

-Denki Kaminari-

contrary to popular belief, denki’s really smart. he just struggles with adhd and dyslexia

bi icon. he paints his nails. he wears chokers. he even cuffs his jeans. he is the definition of bi panic. especially when it comes to jiro, shinso, and sero.

beautiful singing voice. and a quick learner. learned to shred on the guitar so fast oml.

mildly epileptic denki. and if he uses his quirk TOO too much he will also start to seize.

also,, he tics. do they stem from adhd? undiagnosed tourette’s? who knows? but he throws his head back and clicks his younger among other small tics

he is a simp. and a flirt. but unlike m*neta, he respects women and their boundaries.

-Mina Ashido-

her mother is african american and her father is half african american half japanese

obsessed with space and aliens. thought she was actually an alien for the longest time.

at first she wanted to be a professional dancer but then she saw and villain fight in person and her mind was made up before she could even process it. she was going to be a hero.

still dances though. loves to dance all kinds of styles her favorites and hip hop and contemporary.

worked on her self confidence a lot when she was little and now is like, the spokes person of self confidence

-Hanta Sero-

nb. 100% enby.

they use them/them pronouns but will begrudgingly answer to he/they because they were amab.

they used to be an acrobat. their family was a part of a circus so they grew up along side circus acts and they thought it was so cool that they started to copy all the performers.

also they’re latinx. half japanese half latinx to be specific.

they’re fluent in spanish. their tia would sooner die than have a sobrino (they use masculine pronouns in spanish) who didn’t speak spanish.

#bakusquad #eijiro kirishima #katsuki bakugou #mina ashido #denki kaminari #hanta sero #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha hcs #bnha hcs #bnha #mha

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margridarnauds · 4 years

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ronan & olympe for the ship opinions? (also please let your previous anon know that they're the funniest person in the world and i love them)

So…interesting thing, there. And something I’ve been increasingly thinking about as I think back on my last few years of fandom, my evolving feelings towards M/F shipping, and how fandom, as a whole, treats M/F ships. I’m going to apologize in advance for the length since I KNOW you didn’t sign on for 1.5k words of reminiscence.

Also: BEAGLE ANON, YOU’RE THE FUNNIEST PERSON IN THE WORLD.

When I first started out with 1789, in about 2015 or so, I was actually pro-Ronan/Olympe. Like, I wanted NOTHING more than fix-it fics where they retired to the country and had babies. I listened to La Guerre Pour se Plaire for HOURS, getting caught in the gothic atmosphere and the passionate, conflicted lyrics. But, at the time, the overall fandom environment was…well. Not conducive to it. And I was young, and I wasn’t strong in my opinions yet, so I stood back and kept it to myself. I think that might be part of why I ended up backing away from 1789 when I did. Yeah, I liked it, but I didn’t have a strong sense of community, and most of the attention, at that time, was in the Mozart, L’Opera fandom, and I wasn’t a major picture there. I attended streams, yeah, but I wasn’t a CONTENT creator, and it was easy for me to fade into the background, I think. Maybe because I was too afraid to be a content creator, back then, because that would involve possibly expressing my own opinions. I accepted that Ronan/Olympe was No bad, terrible, awful based on that desire to fit in, because it was so much EASIER. Just like I accepted that French 1789 was a disaster, that MOR was much better, and that, really, it wasn’t worth the effort. Just an inferior musical. (The problem, of course, was that I NEVER liked MOR as well as I liked 1789. Maybe it’s better put together, but I don’t ENJOY it as much, and imo it drags quite a bit at a few places, a problem shared by its German counterpart.)

I came back to 1789 around…2017, with the European Musicals Streaming event, with the Takarazuka one totally stealing my heart, specifically Lazare/Ronan. Suddenly, I was IN, and I was creating content. Yeah, most of the French musicals fandom didn’t give a flying fuck that I was creating content, with most of my support coming from my friends and Takarazuka fans, but I was CREATING CONTENT, for the first time since I joined fandom. I was finally starting to figure out my way in fandom, finally starting to get noticed. In 2018……..for reasons I won’t give out, at least publicly, there was a massive rift in the old French musicals fandom, a lot of bridges got burned, and, naturally, I was far enough from the fire. But this DID give me a shot at carving out my own 1789 experience, for once, without them hanging over my shoulder. I do think that the reason why the 1789 fandom’s as strong as it is now is because of that rift, because it left a sort of power vacuum. Suddenly, there was a space for other French musicals, and we didn’t have to worry about the constant comparison to MOR. BUT. Keep in mind. 2-3 years ago, the overwhelming consensus on Ronan was pure, unadulterated hatred. There were a few Ronan content creators in an already small pool, but the general consensus was that Lazare was better in every way and Ronan was a terrible protagonist. (I know fully well that some old members of the French musicals fandom, to this day, won’t engage with Ronan content. At all. And I can say this as openly as I do because I KNOW they don’t follow me.) As a Peyronan shipper, I was in an awkward place, especially as time went on and I realized that I actually did like the little shit. One half of my OTP was absolutely beloved, one half was hated, and, while there was definitely some content on the Tumblr side of things (I definitely did NOT single-handedly invent the ship out of thin air, I don’t take credit for it, and I’m grateful to everyone who kind of. Took me in), the fan fiction side of things still tended to lean Ronan/Olympe. If, today, it seems like the fandom consensus is Ronan/Lazare, that’s because I fought tooth and nail to get my own place in the fandom.

I…suppose you could say that I justified my place in the fandom by tossing Ronan/Olympe under the bus. It was easier, that way. It meant that I could forge alliances with anyone who wanted Solène/Olympe instead, though I was still on dangerous ground since I still wanted precious Lazare with Ronan, and, of course, the show would be better without Ronan. (You’ll note that the VERY FIRST fic I ever published on AO3 was Solène/Olympe. Why? Because I knew it would be a safe option to test the waters. That. And I really did just write it the night before my GRE.) But, at least I wasn’t a Ronan/Olympe shipper, right? I was safely gay. (Biphobia, thy name is fandom.) When I talked about Ronan, I talked about him as gay, I talked shit about Ronan/Olympe whenever I had the chance. All properly tagged, of course, in the proper channels. I’ve never been the sort to actively hurt someone who DID ship it, I just took pains to not associate myself with the Icky Het Ship. When I talked about Ronan, I talked about him as GAY, VERY GAY, not a hint of bisexuality to him. Because if he was bi, that might mean that Ronan/Olympe had a leg to stand on, you see? You’ll note that, to this day, I almost never acknowledge Ronan/Olympe as a thing that HAPPENED in any given fic continuities, because it was so much easier if he simply fell into Lazare’s arms instead. Wiping that little spot clean. And. Well. Here I am. About 5 years after I first got into 1789. And, looking back, I wonder if it was REALLY that bad, or if I just nodded my head because it was easy at the time, since it’s only been in the last year that I really, really began to develop my own spine. (Honestly, props to Marie Antoinette the Musical and, specifically, Morléans as a ship for that one.) For the most part, I’m proud of how far the fandom’s come in the last five years, and I’m proud of the work that I, individually, have done to help get it there, whether it was streams, gifs, or fanfics. But sometimes, I do worry that anyone coming in who ships Ronan/Olympe, like I used to…might feel out of place, and I never want to treat them like I was treated back in the day.

Do I ship it? Not really. That ship’s sailed for me (I didn’t mean to make that a pun but here we are). I’m fairly firmly Lazare/Ronan and Solène/Olympe (though I’m not as firmly pro-the latter as the former, simply because I REALLY don’t have as much material to go off of there.) Not just because of the old pressure, but just because…looking at it in, say, the French cast…there’s really no chemistry there. At all. The Takarazuka Olympe looks mildly terrified to be in Ronan’s presence at any given moment. I DO actually kind of like it in the Toho production, especially with Teppei Koike and Sayaka Kanda, since the two of them fit together SO naturally and their voices are like two pieces of the same puzzle, but I’m not sure it’s something I’d particularly want to create content for. In fact, when I tried to write Ronan/Lazare/Olympe as an OT3, my HARDEST dynamic to write and justify was Ronan/Olympe. I do think that “La Guerre Pour se Plaire” is a stunning song, musically, it’s probably one of my favorite French musical songs. I do kind of tend to see Ronan as gay, simply because Takarazuka Ronan in particular is………..forceful, to the point that I can see him forcing himself to believe he’s in love with Olympe in order to distract himself from Lazare. I feel like the French cast, while arguably realistic in it showing Ronan/Olympe’s relationship having problems, also shows a couple that, really, beyond the physical attraction, couldn’t have made it work had both of them survived. And I feel like fandom, back in the day, was far too willing to take Olympe’s side over Ronan’s in that dispute, ignoring how Olympe’s own relationship to her side of the conflict is…kind of toxic to her. And while Ronan went about it in an ass-backward way (“I will kill your friends and family! To remind you of my love!”)……..he did make some Points. And Toho Ronan/Olympe, particularly Teppei/Sayaka, are more two kids in love who just want to give it a shot. (Kato Kazuki/Nene Yumesaki were more….forceful, manly hero/prim and proper governess with a spine of steel. Which is OKAY, but not really personally as interesting to me.) I do give the Toho credit for really, really making me see that, okay, it might not be for me, but it CAN work on stage. Mostly. (I still hate that forced kiss.)

I will say that there are times where I find myself writing Lazare rather similarly to Olympe in terms of him going through the same feelings of guilt, shame, and duty, and I’m just like “....hm. What have I really changed? Did I just substitute Lazare’s face for Olympe because it was easier? Or copied the existing dynamic and pasted a dude’s face over Olympe’s?” (I do think that there are definitely DIFFERENCES to Olympe VS Lazare, it’s just...eerie in those individual moments.) I do think, at the end of the day, the story of forbidden love during the French Revolution....we’ve HAD it before, in the La Revolution Française musical, and in my opinion it does work best as a queer narrative. And, unfortunately, Ronan/Olympe just...isn’t developed particularly well enough on stage to justify it as an EPIC ROMANCE.

Overall, I think that I’m fairly settled in my ways at this point, but I also don’t hate it to the extent that I once did. It’ll never be my favorite, I can’t really see them getting married and having kids, and, frankly, the relationship just isn’t as interesting to me as the alternatives since we’ve SEEN it played out on screen, and I can’t really see myself making content for it or really engaging with it in any meaningful way outside of reblogging gifsets/reading fics, but like. I don’t HATE it anymore. I’m neutral to its existence. And, when it comes down to it, I have read fic/engaged in content for it, because, at this point, it’s STILL part of my favorite musical. If I could have done things differently….maybe I would have stayed with it more, for longer. Maybe I’d have written that happy country babyfic (you know. In 18th century France. Where raising babies in the country was so painless). Maybe I’d have gone over to Peyronan earlier and not looked back. Maybe I would have written Ronan more consciously as a bisexual man instead of a gay man. Who knows? Maybe I’m just a tired bitch these days and so am hyper-dissecting everything. But I definitely never want anyone coming into the fandom to think there isn’t a place for them just because they ship Ronan/Olympe.

#vierschanzentournee

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reddielibrary · 5 years

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say it softly

Secret Santa: Ray | @ethereal-eddie

Gift for: Mila | @milaleidi

Word count: 2,134

*click title to read on AO3

Ever since I started working at Patsy’s, I’ve been sort of a wallflower.

College was beginning to kick my ass when it came to finances, to the point that I barely had enough money to pay for a night out with the friends that I had made on my floor, so I decided that the best course of action was to get a job at the twenty-four-hour diner that was right across the street from my dorm building. It was the cutest little place; squat on the outside, yet warm and cozy with the feeling of a fifty’s sock hop on the inside. The hours weren’t the best, but the pay was good, and I figured that a few late shifts at three in the morning was better than having no money at all.

That being said, however, I was always privy to the strangest of people coming in at god-awful hours of the night, mostly college students that ordered three plates of blueberry pancakes due to their being high off their asses. Once, there was a guy that looked like he had jumped straight out of a Macy’s catalog who asked for a bag of ice because his recent tattoo (which was in an unmentionable place) was hurting him. Conversations with the old locals was one of my favorite parts of the job, getting to hear about their stories of them in high school and how Patsy’s used to be an old hookah shop until the owner died of lung cancer.

Despite all of the interesting characters I met, the most intriguing was a group that came in at one in the morning on a Tuesday in October.

I remember that night, how they had burst into the shop, just when I was thinking that no one else would be coming in. Amanda, my coworker, had asked if I could cover her shift, and I, ever the people pleaser, had agreed with a tight smile that was soon swallowed by a yawn. A lanky, auburn-haired man held the door open as the rest of who I assumed were his friends stumbled through the entrance. The first to enter was a beautiful redhead that was hanging off the shoulder of an uptight looking man with curls sitting messily atop his head. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the tables with a scrutinizing gaze, and she whispered something into the ear of her friend (partner?) before deciding on a booth directly in front of the large, glass-stained window. The curly haired boy, who looked out of place next to the girl because of his prep-boy stature, only smiled and followed her without saying another word. The next person I noticed was a burly, dark-skinned man, who smiled brightly at the lights of the diner and, presumably, the boy that had just entered before him. Right after came a stocky young man with red cheeks, who ran ahead to the booth to take a seat next to the girl, followed by the one who had been holding the door open for the rest of the group.

The five friends talked to each other in relatively loud voices, so I could hear them from my position at the cash register while I was getting ready to take their orders. “Where the fuck are they? I swear they were right behind us when we left,” huffed the one with curly hair.

The redhead laughed and threw an arm around her friend. “Who wants to bet that they got caught up making out on Dean Russo’s car?”

Just as a chorus of ‘me!’s rang through the air, the bell above the front entrance chimed, announcing the arrival of two new patrons, their looking windswept and their cheeks red. The girl hollered, and one by one the rest of the group made kissing noises at the couple, one of whom buried his face in the other’s shoulder.

“Dean Russo kick you off of his car?” asked the blonde kid, and the two both nodded reluctantly before taking a seat right next to each other. I thought that now was as good a time as any to go and take their orders, so, grabbing my pad and pen, I made my way to their booth. I was greeted with smiles, and so I smiled back before clearing my throat to speak. “May I take your orders?” I groaned internally, knowing that I probably sounded extremely awkward; I was still getting used to talking to college students that I had never met before. Despite my internal conflict, they all nodded eagerly, shyly (and, for some, exuberantly) saying varied degrees of yes.

It wasn’t long until I served them, and they asked me to sit with them and talk. At the time, it seemed like a weird request, but they were so kind so I couldn’t find it in myself to decline. After I tugged off my apron and pulled a chair up to the edge of the booth, the only girl in the group began to introduce each of them one by one.

“I’m Beverly, Bev, your next girlfriend! Whatever you wanna call me!” I laughed at her introduction, and she nodded in satisfaction. “This,” she continued, pointing at the curly haired man be that sat on her right, “is Stanley the Manly, affectionately makes by our one and only Richie Tozier.” She then pointed at one of the men that had walked in late, specifically the taller one with a mess of hair on his head. “Eddie is Richie’s boyfriend, and together they make the most disgustingly cute couple you will ever see.” Eddie, who had freckles decorating his face, waved at me with a shy smile. “Mike—“ she pointed at the dark-skinned man “— is Stan’s boyfriend, Bill is his best friend, and Ben is our group’s honorary mother.”

Richie cut in quickly, leaning over the table so he could see me from around Eddie. “We are the Losers’ Club!”

I raised my eyebrows in question, and Ben smiled. “We named it ourselves. We’ve been the Losers’ Club since we were thirteen.”

“You guys have all been friends since you were kids?”

Mike nodded proudly. “Yep! We all decided to go to university together. Don’t know how I’d survive without these guys.”

I got to know them pretty well, from how Richie was majoring in film (just like me) to the fact that Mike was a star football player for the Huskies, our football team. They were extremely comfortable with each other, always making mildly deprecating comments about each other, and I longed to have friends like them.

I hoped that, maybe, I could become good friends with these people who I found extremely interesting.

The Losers’ Club made it a habit to enter Patsy’s every Tuesday, ordering the same dishes every single time. For Mike, it was a shitty rendition of huevos rancheros; Stan always glanced at the menu scrutinizingly before deciding on an everything bagel topped with lox; Beverly favored the Homestyle french toast; Ben and Bill always shared a stack of cinnamon pancakes drowned in maple syrup. The only ones who didn’t keep their routine orders were Richie and Eddie, always sharing a plate of something that Richie had picked in an over-excited haze. I remember asking Eddie about it on one of their trips, and he said that he only ever shared with his boyfriend because he knew it would make Richie happy (“...but don’t ever tell him I said that.”)

I had gotten so used to seeing them on Tuesdays that I was mildly startled when Richie and Eddie came in on a Friday night in December, hands entangled in the pocket of Richie’s large winter coat and scarves covering their mouths. Richie was talking animatedly, waving his free arm around as he tried to explain something that I couldn’t quite hear to Eddie. The night was fairly busy and I was already waiting four other tables, so I made Amanda take their orders, and it wasn’t long until their food came out; this time, a large “California Style” burger and fries.

They remained in the same spot for nearly three hours, Eddie securely tucked against Richie’s side, laughing at a story’s that they were sharing with each other. Most people had cleared out, leaving in their wake a mess of unfinished plates and dirty napkins, yet the couple stayed, looking picture picture in the pastel lighting. I couldn’t begin to fathom how in love they were. I began to clean up, listening in on their conversation at times, and I was nearly done when Richie called my name, prompting me to turn and raise an eyebrow at my friends.

“Okay, okay,” he started, removing his arm from around his boyfriend’s shoulders. “Would you agree that—“

“Richie, don’t you fucking dare—“

Richie quickly put his palm against Eddie’s mouth, and grinned when it made Eddie stop talking. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, wouldn’t you agree that Optimus is the perfect fucking name for mine and Eddie’s kids?”

“No, it’s not, Richie!”

“No, it’s not, Richie!” The raven-haired boy mimicked back, and I laughed. He turned to me, continuing on with his speech. “Imagine this: your kid goes to school, meets a new friend, and tells him that his name is Op. And then! When they ask what it’s short for, he says: Optimus.”

“You are literally the dumbest fucking person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting,” said Eddie, and despite his words, his tone was light, and he was looking at Richie with all the love in the world.

“Oh, cry me a river, Edward!”

I cut in before the shorter man could berate his boyfriend’s use of a full name. “I kinda have to agree with Eddie on this one. It’s a dumb name, Rich.”

Richie gasped and feigned a look of shock, clutching his heart in a desperate fashion. “Why, Miss!” he drawled in a somewhat passable southern accent. “I never did think you’d be the one to break my little heart!”

I shrugged. Eddie winked at me.

I spent the rest of my shift talking with them.

The second of January was when I found out about it.

I had gotten pretty close with the group over the past year, occasionally going to parties with them and playing board games when it rained (which is often here in Seattle.) I had taken a liking to Beverly the most, with her exuberant personality and incredible fashion sense, but Richie and Eddie came as a close second. They were a package deal, always a source of envy among the single members of our group, myself included. We were all privy to their constant kisses, banter, and, to the chagrin of most of us, the sexual innuendos that Richie directed at his smaller boyfriend.

The snow outside had piled up so high that it was almost impossible to get through the front entrance of the diner, yet business was booming as per usual. I had the opportunity to work at the bar, which required less effort and guaranteed more time to relax. Thirty minutes into my shift, the bell rang, signaling the arrival of new customers. When I looked up, I was excited (and surprised) to see Eddie and Beverly walking towards me, the red-haired girl’s arm slung across her best friend’s shoulders. The two of them only ever came in alone if there was important news, mostly to let me into the little bubble that was the Losers’ Club’s world, so I waited eagerly for them to greet me.

“Hey Em!” Beverly said, her white teeth on full display as her lips pulled back into an excited grin.

“Hey guys,” I said back. “So… what’s the big news?” At this, Eddie’s skin turned a scarlet red, and he stuck out his left hand, where a glittering silver band sat on his ring finger.

“No fucking way, he proposed?” I grabbed Eddie’s hand fast, examining the ring, and he nodded. “You guys are so young!”

Eddie shrugged, the smile on his face never faltering. “I can’t even think of spending the rest of my life with anyone else. He’s always been the one for me, since we were kids.”

“Holy shit, that’s fucking cute!”

Beverly pulled me outside later that night, interlocking our fingers after she had lit a cigarette. “My best friends are fucking engaged and I can’t even get a girlfriend.”

I smiled at her, before looking at the sky, where white flurries fell in hurried dazes. “You’re a catch, Bev.”

She laughed, squeezing my hand, and paused before she spoke again. “These idiots have been in love since before I even knew them. Took them eleven years to realize it.”

“They really are the dream, huh?”

She smiled.

#reddie #secret santa event #ethereal-eddie

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dreamersrazor-blog · 7 years

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Some Advice on What You Can Do When You Feel Hopeless (right now, by yourself)

Well, the first thing should be “Don’t look up lists of what to do about it.” I learned that today. Everything I found on such a search made me feel worse, somehow. No joke, one suggestion was literally “fall in love,” like that is something one can just do. Whatever, let’s move on. Coarse language warning.

Feeling like the world is just having a grand ol’ time shitting in your mouth nonstop is possibly one of the worst sensations a person can feel. Sorry for the imagery, but it’s my best way to describe it when decent-folks terminology just falls short at explaining to someone how downright insufferable everything is in that moment.

When I feel hopeless – and I mean legitimate, absolute, can’t-be-bargained-with hopeless – the only thing I want is for something, anything, just one fuck-mothering thing to go right in my life, just for a moment, and give me something to smile about without immediately kicking me in the balls afterward.

Unfortunately, that outcome is rare for me. If you’ve been drawn to this post, then I’m guessing it’s rare for you, too. I can’t say I have a miracle cure for feeling like your life is a train wreck where all the cars were filled with eggs, live ammunition, and orphans; but I do want to share the coping methods I’ve been using when Google just offers me suggestions that, were I able to act on, I wouldn’t be so hopeless in the first place.

For the record, I promise that statement does mean more than just that absurd “fall in love” tip above. It just seemed like a good note to start with. An important aspect of this post is to assume that you basically only have an internet connection and a few minutes to spend on yourself. I do list some examples with things that you might not own, but they are largely secondary to the points made. Just as well, they don’t involve anyone else.

My first suggestion might sound counter-intuitive, but it helps me for some reason or another. I have some theories on it, but we’ll get to that. The suggestion is to subject yourself to something sad on purpose, within certain “safe” boundaries. Now, what does that mean, and why on Earth would we do that? Well, hear me out.

This can be a movie scene, a story, a picture – whatever works for you. In my case, it’s a couple of songs. The key thing here is that it’s a… healthy(?) kind of sad stimuli. i.e. something that can make you feel things, spring up some (manly) tears just a bit, but not necessarily a song to cut your wrists to or whatever; or something that you’re overly emotionally invested in.

For me, one such experience is the song 1,000 Words from… from whatever Final Fantasy game it’s from. I’ve never played the game, the lyrics don’t apply to me in any way, but the song is a rubber mallet straight to the feels for me, regardless. While it might conjure up some (extremely masculine) misty eyes, it’s a different sensation than the self-loathing, hopelessness, and general give-me-one-reason-not-to-die-right-now sensations that drive me to it. I find myself in a better overall state of mind after totally-not-crying to it for a few minutes when I’m at my lowest.

The potency of this method can be diminished if you draw from the well too often, so to speak. (if it worked for you to start with, anyway.) My therapy song won’t work near as well if it’s something I listen to frequently or have heard a gazillion times already. The aforementioned tune did absolute wonders for me the first few times, but after hitting that one a few too many times, I had to move to another one to achieve the same effect. Still worked, though.

While it might seem like a “bash thumb with hammer to cure toothache” kind of solution, I think it’s a less-invasive method of self-harm. I’ve never intentionally hurt myself, so I don’t personally understand the mindset of cutters and such. Having known a couple, however, a common purpose of self-harm seems to be a sense of control. I feel that my sad-time-song has that same effect of inflicting a normally-undesirable sensation on myself; but it’s something I choose to do, something I have control of.

The thing is, it’s an emotion that doesn’t make my current situation worse, which is something sad stimuli tends to otherwise do. Hence my emphasis on it being a “safe” source of feels. My advice isn’t just “make yourself sadder on purpose,” it’s… I guess I’m saying “make yourself a different kind of sad.” I think. I don’t know.

For example, another such feels-y moment for me was the very end of the movie Logan. The thing X23 does right before the credits. You know the part. Thing is, that was a leaky-eyes moment for me, but purely on a symbolic level. I’m not specifically a fan of Wolverine, or the X-Men in general; so that bit, to me, is a “safe” sad.

In contrast, the opening minutes of the movie Arrival hit really close to home for me. Dwelling on that one doesn’t produce feels, it produces legitimate sorrow. This is an “unsafe” sad, because it makes these negative emotions worse; or adds to them.

Now, I get that not everyone can immediately think of something in the “safe-sad” category for them. If that’s you, I’d just suggest keeping an eye out for such sensations going forward. Something that can tempt your face to leak, but not because it reminds you of your own troubles or struggles.

My next suggestion is something of an extension of the first. A spinoff, if you will. While I certainly encourage you to do anything (within reason) that you feel might improve your mindset, I know a mistake I inadvertently made quite often was to indulge in things that would inadvertently make it worse.

This is meant more or less as a direct disclaimer to the common advice of “engage in your hobbies!” or “make time to do something you enjoy!” because frankly, that can be dangerous in some cases.

To borrow terminology from myself, there are basically “safe” and “unsafe” variants to the good things as well. Identifying the difference can make a huge… difference. This part gets a bit sob-story, so I totally understand if you want to skip it.

The gist of it, though, is that when trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming shittiness of your situation, you must be mindful with what you turn to. Some things that you might think are beneficial or helpful might actually be harming you under the surface, and determining what “good” things to avoid can be the key to lessening the weight of hopelessness.

Anyway, my bit is as follows; with some examples of things that I thought were helping, but were, in fact, making it worse.

I love metal music; and on a good day, I can listen to it all I want without issue. The thing is, in my darkest hours, watching the Little V Mills cover of Heavy Day, despite essentially being my favorite thing ever, does more harm than good to my psyche. Perhaps I’m just slow, but I dug myself into that pit several times before I made the connection as to why such an otherwise feel-good endeavor would backfire on me when I needed it most.

I played guitar for a few years – it was easily one of my favorite things to do for a long while. Because of [medical] I haven’t been able to play it for many years now, and will likely never be able to play it again. Even though I love the song and Little V, listening to it in bad times is just a subconscious jackhammer to my dead guitar dreams.

“That’s the easiest connection in the world to make” you might have said just then, but please understand, my guitar dreams died long ago, and I haven’t otherwise been bitter about it. I don’t watch a musician play something and consciously think “oh, if only I could still do that!” or reminisce lovingly about all the one-man shows I used to put on in the kitchen for my mom and dogs. (shut up.)

That whole chunk of my life is honestly a non-issue at this point, as far as my conscious thoughts go. Beneath the surface, however, those wounds are quick to reopen when you’re grasping at anything to distract you from how terrible things are at the time.

I love the shows RWBY and Death Battle, but watching them in low days just hammers home my failure as an aspiring animator. I rely on ASMR videos to sleep at night; but when every last ounce of shit in life is hitting fan blades I didn’t even know existed, I find it better to deal with insomnia than for the lovely ASMRtist ladies to be a frustrating reminder of how painfully single and lonely I am.

Now, I know that when you’re in a bad enough spot, you can look at anything you do in that sort of self-defeating light and use that to make your hopelessness worse. As of writing this, I’m actually in such a spot. Fun fact: being reasonably proud of my passable grammar and wordsmanship without any tangible recoil from it is the entire reason I’m writing this tonight.

So, explore with caution, I guess. If you feel overwhelmed by finding a self-defeating aspect of everything you do, then just do nothing. I’m not saying to quit your job or whatever, but sometimes the best answer is to not seek answers, if that makes any sense.

In the “do nothing” category, I find Youtube channels like TED and TEDx Talks quite efficient at filling my brain with something neutral to listen to; depending on which subject you click on, of course. That conveniently segues into…

Third suggestion: Learn Something Irrelevant. As with the other two, this one is highly subjective; but hey, so is this entire topic. Another coping method I’ve come to rely on is to just space out with a bunch of useless trivia I have absolutely no need for.

The speeches given on those TED channels are a great example of this. They’re nice and long for maximum time absorption, while slotting neatly into the “mildly amusing” category most of the time (for me.) The big asterisk on this is to not invest yourself into something that does draw your active attention.

That probably didn’t explain much. Another example: I love reviews. I don’t know why. I can listen to a professional-sounding reviewer talk about pretty much anything and be at least marginally entertained by it. Perhaps you don’t feel that way, but give me a second.

I watch Anthony’s Customs in such circumstances. He reviews collector’s action figures and such. This is a subject I have roughly zero interest in, but that’s what makes it good for me to learn about in bad times. Watching reviews for something I do care about, say, video games I can’t afford or movies I can’t go see, just makes the crushing hopelessness worse. (I know, duh.) This ties back to the second suggestion – ingesting a review for something I desire just shines a spotlight on my inability to obtain it.

This is probably more of a simple distraction tactic than anything specifically helpful, but that’s not to say it doesn’t work. Giving the brain something else to chew, it will stop poking at the ulcers in its mouth. Imagery!

Fourth and final suggestion, to be taken with a very large grain of salt: Embrace the Bitterness… Carefully. I’ll go ahead and put that “please hate responsibly” or “scowl in moderation” disclaimer up front and center. It’s a fairly obvious tip that I’m sure many people already act on. Maybe this is more of a warning for how to do safely.

If you’re like me, raised on the idea that negative emotions and mindsets were bad for you, then the act of feeling bad in your bad situation probably makes you feel worse. I felt like being in a bad mental place was a sign of weakness on my part, like I was failing for feeling such things.

Think back on those Saturday morning cartoon moral lessons – things like how the bully is only hateful because he has a broken home. A tragic villain, but still a villain. No, being mean to others isn’t the right way to handle your stresses; but just like the other entries above, there are “safe” alternatives.

I suggest watching channels like CinemaSins, which comedically picks apart every little thing “wrong” with movies, or looking into reviews for films or products you know are bad, just to revel in someone else’s failures. An easy suggestion would also be an RPG or something where you can choose to be the bad guy.

Heartless? Probably. Healthy? Maybe – in moderation. The guideline here is to get your catharsis from something that won’t actively hurt someone. I’m not saying to find a way to justify being an asshole, I’m just saying to find a way to come as close to being an asshole as possible.

The reason I gave those examples is because they’re as close to a victimless attack as you can get, I think. When your pent up bitterness explodes in the voice chat of Overwatch and you tell your incompetent teammate the exact number and volume of bags of dicks they can eat, that dingus Genji main might have deserved it, but he or she is still a victim, and you’re still being an asshole to them.

Meanwhile, bathing yourself in the glorious misteps of something like Mass Effect Andromeda is a reasonably healthier way to throttle that hate-boner, for a number of reasons. For one, content creators know full-well the risk they take in putting their work out there, and are usually prepared for at least some level of backlash. Second, being a passive consumer of such media, such as watching a highlight reel of ME:A’s awful facial animation, is much better for you than actively calling someone mean and hurtful things.

Therein lies my warning. As my circumstances and mental state got worse, so did my already-lacking social skills. If anger and catharsis-by-proxy are solid tools for dealing with your anguish, then use them; but be mindful of their cost. Putting on a fake smile and small-talking your way through your interactions is a horrible way to live, but the alternative is letting your problems become toxic to others around you.

That’s not to discourage reaching out to friends or family for help, but a central aspect of this post was the idea that you might not have such a network. It still applies to the randoms you meet online, though. It can do wonders to vent that bitterness and resentment; but do so in a safe, controlled manner that won’t cost you existing relationships or sour the day of someone you don’t know.

Such were my suggestions for coping with hopelessness. I can’t offer much in the way of finding new hope to actually cure the underlying problem, primarily because that depends immeasurably on everyone’s individual trials; but also because I haven’t gotten my own ducks in a row, yet. All I can do is share what works for me and… well… hope that you might benefit from it.

Stay safe out there.

#depression #hopelessness #help #advice

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