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glitterytidalwavedragon · 4 years ago

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Expanding into my other Fandoms (I’m gonna have to take a stance) Read the whole thing please.

One of my oldest and most beloved anime is Inuyasha. As of late I have been binged watching the hell out of it as I am getting my BFF into different anime shows. We are really close to entering the Yashahime part of the series, and she asked if I planned to write fanfiction involving the one character which made me even watch the show as a 10-year-old.

Sesshomaru

The first episode I ever watched involved this aloof, entitled dog fighting his brother over the sword in their father’s grave. Specifically, it was part 3 of that whole episode series were Kagome pulled out the sword. I at the time had 3 dogs of German Sheppard/wolf hybrid, they were MASSIVE dogs, fell in love with the big white fluff that was Sesshomaru’s demon form. I use to sneak staying up and watch the show faithfully to see the goodest boy as it was only on at 11pm EST on adult swim. Which meant it was bad and I was breaking the rules, I felt like a rebel.

Now I hesitated answering that question. She has no idea of what is in Yashahime, she is being careful not to spoil it so I told her I didn’t know. Recently, to find out what the feel is for Sesshomaru content, I looked into the tag on tumblr…

OH MY GOD.

Sesshomaru’s tag is FLOODED with hate. Like every four post, there is hate, distain, and attacking happening. As someone who watches Yashahime, I quickly knew why.

Sessrin.

Even now I sigh. And I sigh HARD. I am not for, nor am I against the Sessrin train. Same for the Sesskagu train. I think both sides need to look at things on a logical prospective. I plan to do just that. I know I will get hate from the either side and maybe some support as well. But if I am going to do anything in this fandom (as I like doing ships and reader inserts) it will come up.

So, like my Kaiba post, and my Sebastian Heel post, I will use my research skills as well as my COLLEGE DEGREE WHICH HAS BOTH ART AND MEDIEVAL HISTORY labelled on it to explain why this progression in the story is normal to anti-Sessrin fans and why this isn’t a crime by story standards nor should we look at it as a crime.

AS WELL

Explain to Sessrin fans why it is so weird for non-shippers to see it play out and why so much hate formed.

As I let out another sigh, we shall begin. Let’s start at an historical prospective. (Links at the bottom).

PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING! I’LL BE ABLE TO TELL!

I will start with the information I can access right away.

While finding charts on the life-span of common folk in 1590’s Feudal Japan is rather difficult, Ancient.edu states that the average lifespan was about 50. To put this in perspective, the average lifespan of Europeans at the time was somewhere between 40-45 with the latter being rare. Since most of us reading are not from Japanese descent, I will through Europe in this first.

If we look at the same time frame of 1590, we are looking at most of Western Europe had now entered the age of Renaissance. According to sources from Learning Resources in association with the National Gallery of Art, marriage was not what TV drama’s from HBO or Hulu depicted. By today standards they would be a crime, as the average age for marriage of an adult female was age 14…

The reasoning behind the young marriage age had multiple factors. First being, females were considered an adult once they were menstruating. Birthing also proved to be fatal, and since the lifespan was at best 40 and 45 if they were lucky, there was really no room to wait. Also Europe at the time had became hugely focused on making sure blood lines were legitimate, meaning to ensure the girl was a virgin, the moment she was able to reproduced she was married off. Those they married were not young teenagers either. Most marriages, a man would be in their thirties, and had probably multiple wives as women died more than men when not counting the battle field.

To make matters worse for the Renaissance Lady, these marriages would leave many young males unable to marry and if their husband died in battle, well, unfortunately they were not seen as desirable. This was due to the idea of a ‘free woman’. Should the girl not have a father, brother or uncle to return to as they too died, a widow had her freedom. But that freedom came at a cost. She would be assumed to have slept around, and in many writings, such as the Canterbury Tales, where Geoffrey Chaucer writes about a Window on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land survived her five husbands and the men in her family. In short, she was made to be a slut and to be looked down upon as no man controlled her.

The point of talking about Europe is because that is something most of us Non-Asian or Japanese people consume and like to paint in large romantic brush strokes of knights and magic. Honestly, reading G.R.R.Martin Song of Ice and Fire, he uses this model as we see the Queen of Dragons, Danny start off at age thirteen shortly after she had her first menstruation.

Now let’s look at Feudal Japan.

As stated before, the lifespan was around 50 years. In some populations, this was even shorter. Nagaoka, Hirata, Yokota and Matsu’ura’s on demographic data at the Yuigahama-minami area in Kamakura, Japan and found both male and female remains that suggested life expectancy to have ended around age 24-25. This was largely due to living conditions and public health. In areas like these, it would make the most sense to marry and repopulate quickly as the expectancy of life was half the national average at the time.

To my frustration, I could not find a clear marriage age for Japanese women at the time of the edo period. HOWEVER, where there is a will there is a way. I took a look at famous Lords or Daimyo’s of the time. The average age of marriage of their wives was between 12-14. Much younger than I expected, but it made sense considering this is a time where war ran the show and marriage was strictly about political gain. One of these Daimyo’s was Masamune Date, who was also 13, but then as he got older took concubines who became considerably younger than him as he became older. The goal was to have as many children as possible for hires and for political marriages to gain power.

Now lets look at Inuyasha the MANGA

Lets get the manga timeline proper here. The whole adventure took place in 11 months, a month shy of Kagome’s 16th birthday. Doing a few estimations, Rin would have travelled with Sesshomaru about 8-9 of those months. But before we get into the relationship, lets look at something the ANIME made a huge mistake with in the beginning and tried to fix as the story went on.

For some reason I could only fine gifs for the Early appearances of Sesshomaru so bear with me.

Early appearances in the manga

^ He was so fickle and a trickster then...

Now early apperances in the anime.

Later appearance in the manga

Laster appearance in the anime

Notice the issue here?

Sesshomaru was CONSIDERABLY younger looking in the start of the manga. In the anime, he started off looking like an fully adult male. But as the anime went on, they tried to make Sesshomaru look younger with subtle changes to his jaw line, eye size, and his height. Yeah, his height had changed. They made him shorter.

While in the manga, we see this young-teen looking demon, slowly mature over 11 months to look like he is in his later teens and by series end, closer to being in his late teens or twenty. Yes, art changes over time, but the anime went a reverse route. I can only guess they spoke to the author of Inuyasha about her ships, as they did Drama CDs, and realized the mistake that was made in making him more mature than he was.

You can’t tell me he doesn’t look closer to his manga self in the final act, because he does.

Since we are on the topic of the anime, lets be clear. The anime timeline and manga timeline are very different. The story in the anime (in the English) suggests that OVER a year has past since Kagome started her journey. They try to fix this in the final act, but it was still so muddled as previous seasons are to be taken as cannon. This could have been due to an translation error in the early production when the anime no longer had anymore manga material to reference. But whatever the case, for English viewers the time the group spent together felt much longer.

So now we come to the heart of the issue.

Because of the mistakes of the anime, a lot of anti-sessrin see the relationship as father daughter. I’ll be honest, watching the anime and solely the anime as a teenager and as an adult (as the manga was on hold for a very long time due to author’s health. I was in college when it finished.), I too thought it was just a father-daughter relationship and Jaken the nanny who got punched all the time. In fact, the English took hard liberties with Kagura, as the English dubs often do with characters, and made it very clear her feelings for the demon lord and Sesshomaru very much recognized them (though he never responded). Even in her death scene, it felt as if he was saying good bye to a friend more than love interest. But who really knows, as there are things that point otherwise. When another demon mock’s Kagura’s death, Sesshomaru gets super pissy.

The manga did also play with this fact when it came out in English, idk if the wording or message is different in the Japanese. Translation errors happen a lot even in todays releases, look at Kuroshitsuji. So of course most anti-sessrin’s did not see this coming in Yashahime when Rin was named mother. In fact it felt like a betrayal as we were sure Sesshomaru had no romantic feelings.

Then there was the Kohaku/Rin mashup that was hinted left and right. The English anime, with its overly dramatic and blunt emotions made it appear one way. That in the end the two kids would probably be married. Then the anime as a whole made Sesshomaru older than intended. I can see why and understand how this became a problem.

On the other side of that coin.

If you followed the dub, seen ‘Swords of an Honorable Ruler’ and read the manga… Sesshomaru was not fatherly to Rin at all. In fact, Jaken picked up all of that leg work. Rin worried for Kohaku, but clearly loved Lord Sesshomaru. Sesshomaru cared about Kagura but he almost CRIED when he lost Rin.

We have to remember that Sesshomaru and Rin’s relationship must have been very hard for the demon. While we never see his mental process expect for a few rare times, we have to remember he hated humans. In the movie, he blamed a human for the early death of his father, Sesshomaru killed without mercy. It made sense that he wouldn’t be fatherly to Rin as her just being there should have caused countless inner conflicts. Hell, he even says his father’s weakness was humans, and look who picked up that trait.

Sesshomaru was designed to, someday, walk in his father’s footsteps. So sess/rin, not a surprise. Also when you see it in a historical perspective, Rin having kids around age 15-16, makes sense. In fact you could argue he waited too long for the time period.

We also need to look more at the manga when concerned with Yashahime. 8-9 months is all Rin travelled with him and he was like hold up, and left her at the village because he KNEW she needed to come to her own conclusion. That no matter what she picked he would live with and protect her. Unconditional love on his end. She cannon wise spent YEARS living with humans and MONTHS with Sesshomaru. Again, by manga standards of cannon.

Now I can already hear the screaming about age and what not. Some sources say Sesshomaru is over 900, by the rule of thumb, if we look at anime and movie releases, we have Sesshomaru being over 500 with no define age and Inuyasha around 270 years old being more pinpointed due to the movie. Just by going by ANIME CANNON. Kagome and Inuyasha, you have a 15 year old with a 270 year old man. If you say being pinned to the tree doesn’t count, then you have 220.

Also, here is something very interesting. In the episode where Inuyasha meets the unmother, he tells her, thinking it was his mom, she died when he was very small and we have flash backs later in the series of him being small running from demons. Demons clearly age much slower than humans, even half-demons. Inuyasha can be 270 but mentally and physically be 15, the same logic works for Sesshomaru, who in the manga is not much older than Inuyasha.

In the manga, there wasn’t any grooming, in the anime, there was a ton of mess-ups but no grooming.

Would this fly in todays world? HELL NO! NO, its gross, she’s a kid. Stop.

I know any fanfic I write will lean heavily on the side of father/daughter because that is what I grew up seeing on the screen. I can’t think of Rin as an adult because years of seeing her as a cheerful little girl. It’s like seeing G.O.T Arya about to have sex for the first time in season 8… I remember when she was a kid on the show. It was way to weird and I had to look away until it ended. But that’s my 2021 mentality.

But Inuyasha is not taking place in 2021. Feudal Japan is a whole other era with its own beliefs, morals and way of life. Those who understand this have nothing wrong with them. They just understand history.

Also, just to bang some nails in…

Anyone remember Bleach? Remember the MOST accepted couple was Ichigo and Rukia…. Rukia who was hundreds of years old and Ichigo who was 15… or Ichigo’s mom who was a teenager and his dad also hundreds of years old.

Most of this also boils down to Sesshomaru being a dude. As in reverse roles in animes its accepted and they don’t have the same historical context. Inuyasha is based off of historical context of Feudal Japan.

We need to stop spreading hate. We can’t accept some forms of literature because its European fantasy but bash other fantasy based literature for doing the same thing.

Sure, its weird for those who were use to seeing the father/daughter dynamic. Yes, there are extreme sessrin fans who post really questionable illegal content when they decide to leave Rin as an 8-year-old…

But this wasn’t ever meant to be perverted. The story was meant to make sense on a logical and historical base.

I hope everyone takes the time to read this. I love Inuyasha, I love Sesshomaru. I am just sick of seeing so many people fighting over what should be the revival of a beloved series. While yes, there is still room for sess/rin not being a thing, until it is stated otherwise, why hate each other? This fandom will only lose people by doing this. Calling people names or accusing them of illegal endorsement can hurt someone these days over social media.

Tumblr allows you to block tags. You don’t have to read anything or watch anything you don’t like. We gain nothing from attacking each other but can lose so much by doing so. Fanart, really good fan fiction, friends, ideas, sharing fond memories. Both sides have the right to feel as they feel, but no right in hurting each other.

A fandom is meant to bring people together. Not start a war…

Thank you.

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/ajpa.20402

http://www.italianrenaissanceresources.com/units/unit-2/essays/husbands-and-wives/#:~:text=Marriage%20not%20only%20reflected%20order,to%20ensure%20the%20bride's%20virginity.

https://www.ancient.eu/Canterbury_Tales/

https://www.ancient.eu/article/1424/daily-life-in-medieval-japan/#:~:text=Just%20as%20Japanese%20people%20today,in%20Western%20Europe%2C%20for%20example.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Date_Masamune

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Megohime

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copias-thrall · 4 years ago

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Cause I'm Young and I'm Here and So Beautiful

A look into the rise and fall of Mary Goore's flash-in-the-pan modeling career.

~12.5K Mary Goore/Reader *drug/alcohol use; mentions of past child abuse; brief homelessness; plot no porn; POV shift*

This fic was inspired by and is very loosely based on Aurelio Voltaire's early days in NYC in the 90s, though I have set it in Boston in the early aughts. 😊

Many thanks to the artists who did commissions for this! 🥰

One Way Streets

Mary stepped off the regional rail and gripped his backpack. He had $72.57 in cash rolled into his socks and a give-em-hell attitude.

When he’d packed his bag the night before, he wasn’t even sure if he’d go through with it, but he couldn’t stand being home anymore. Some of his friends had told him he was crazy.

"Three more months, dude. You got this. Just finish high school, then bounce."

But they didn’t have to live with his dad and the step-monster. Every day was a new indignity. Having them bitch about his music and his style was one thing—that he could have dealt with—but everything else had just kind of…escalated.

Now that the kiddies were older, they’d turned into gremlins. They’d somehow sensed that Mary wasn’t their beloved older brother—he was some sort of half other. They’d stopped questioning why "mom was so mean" to him and had accepted that she was because there was something wrong with Mary. They realized they could be little shits and blame everything on him.

And dad just didn’t care. He’d throw up his hands and say, "I have to live with her"—as if Mary wasn’t in the same boat.

Dad hadn’t stopped her when—in a rage—she’d smashed every single vinyl album Mary had owned because the twins ruined her nice tablecloth. He’d shrugged when she cut all Mary's guitar strings so he couldn’t play "the devil’s music." He’d held Mary back when she took a match and burned all his secret stuff that Mary kept under his bed—action figures, books, guitar mags, journals—in the backyard because he got detention for smoking. He hadn’t said a word when the police showed up after she came at Mary with scissors because he’d dyed his hair black and he’d pushed her away before she could scalp him.

Mary thought for sure he was going to get carted off to jail as she screamed about him terrorizing the family and being afraid he was going to kill her sons in their sleep, but the officers had just looked at her bored and told her being a teenager wasn’t a crime.

So, no: Mary couldn’t wait 3 more months.

He’d scraped together what money he had left from his secret shifts working as a busboy under the table at a local dive downtown, packed his backpack with the essentials, and walked the 5 miles to the train station instead of going to school.

Eighteen was 10 weeks away. He could fudge it for a few months, especially since he could already get away without using his fake ID to get into shows most of the time.

So, to the big city it was.

He shifted his weight and tried to pretend that he belonged here in Boston, but actually facing the busy streets was a lot different from looking at a bird’s-eye view map. He had a printout in his pocket, but he didn’t want to look like a doe-eyed tourist. So he set off down the seemingly labyrinthine streets in the direction he could have sworn was the correct one.

It wasn't.

When he came out a side alley into Faneuil Hall, he almost wondered if he'd gone through a fairy portal, since he was clear on the other side of town. Begrudgingly, he checked his creased map, and set out once more.

And ended up spit out by the State building.

Finding the hostel turned into a fraught adventure, and he got turned around several times more. When he tried to ask for directions, most people pushed past him while one lady shoved $5 at him. He used the cash to buy a hotdog, and it was the vendor who ultimately gave him directions in his thick, Southie accent.

Of course, making it to the hostel ended up being just part one. The rates were almost double what it stated online ("Sorry, honey—that site hasn’t been upgraded since the 90s."), and two nights were practically all his savings. Mary had thought he’d at least have a couple of days to find a job, not 36hrs.

He left the hostel, wondering for the first time if maybe he shouldn’t go back home…but he decided it was a nice day out. Surely there was some place he could hunker down. Just for the night.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the cops at every fucking turn telling him to move along. And any place out of line-of-sight seemed to already be inhabited.

He finally found a place behind some rocks in the Seaport where he didn’t think he’d be murdered in his sleep, curled around his backpack, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Mary woke up damp from the dew and the morning sun streaming into his eyes. The birds were creating an awful racket, but Mary guessed it was as good an alarm clock as any.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest of hair, and he made his way back to the South Station. The men’s room may have smelled like a sewage treatment plant, but at least it was free. He had expected it to be mostly empty at the crack of dawn, but it was full of commuters making that last run to the head before they had to take the train 2hrs out of the city for work.

And it was a sight: a bunch of suits with their fancy lattes washing their hands, and Mary in the corner trying to surreptitiously wipe down with paper towels under his Misfits t-shirt and his shredded jeans. At school, he’d have probably gotten into several altercations by now—no one would have let him just turn into Mary Goore without a fight—but this was Boston, and no one gave him more than a cursory glance.

Just another college kid.

It emboldened Mary to go full-out in the kind of way he had only done when going out to the punk shows downtown at night: kohl all the way around his eyes, and some on his cheekbones; mascara because his lashes are long and thick, and he knows it (his dad had said it made him look hard, and Mary had sneered that maybe that was what he’d been going for. But maybe it had been because he’d liked the way it had made his green eyes pop.); a smear of the step-monster’s fanciest matte lipstick on his full lips; and airplane glue in his hair to give it that lift.

He made a kissy face at himself in the mirror, and headed back out.

It was a nice Spring day—almost boiling in the direct sun—and it tempted Mary to wear only his battle vest, but even he kind of figured applying to jobs half dressed was a mistake.

He walked all over the city, trying not to get lost, looking for any kind of work—dishwasher, busboy, barback—but all he had to show for it was blistered feet and a raging appetite. The only good part of the day was that he noted any restaurant or bakery that looked like it might toss perfectly good food at the end of the day.

He and his friends had become experts at dumpster diving in his podunk town, and he felt confident that he had a good feel for a jackpot. Mary staked out a bakery and was rewarded with a find of "old" bagels. He shoved as many as he could into the nooks and crannies of his backpack before slinking off to the Commons to inhale at least two of them.

Cold, stale dough never tasted so good.

He watched the tourists and the professionals walk by in ones and in groups while he ran his bare feet through the grass. Some laughed with each other as they sauntered down the path while others seemed singularly intent on their ultimate destination. A pack of dogs ran and played with each other as their owners looked on fondly, and nearby the baseball diamond hosted a casual game.

Mary counted his lucky stars that his first week in Boston was April at its kindest—always mild during the day, even when it turned cloudy, and a few times even downright warm. The nights turned chilly, though, and it had Mary in more layers than an onion. If the birds or damp didn't wake him, his butt cramps from being curled in a tight ball all night did.

He spent those days walking around the city proper looking for work. He wasn't adventurous enough to make the leap across the bridges to Cambridge just yet, but his travels gave him a good sense on how the different sections of Boston connected—and showed him potential places to crash at night. He didn't even mind living off day-old garbage food and drinking from bubblers (he'd bought a water for the express purpose of reusing the bottle), but the barren wasteland that seemed to be the job market was beginning to weigh on him.

At home, he could always find a shit job if he was willing to put up with shit hours and ridiculous requests. Here, though, Mary was just one of many desperate people willing to do desperate work.

And he didn’t look particularly trustworthy or reliable.

@dipendancesld

Hashtag WTF

I’m scrolling through Insta on the T, and I’m way down the rabbit hole of hashtags. New content was at a minimum this morning (how can I follow accounts in triple digits and only see the same 4 posts?!), so I’d started with some art tags and ended up where I usually end up—trolling social media for blurry pictures of my boy.

His band has been a local staple for years—or at least that’s what he told me on our first date. I had just moved from New York after a nasty breakup, ready to start fresh, and I’d seen him at a coffee shop hanging posters for his next show in his leather jacket, asymmetrical Metallica crop top, and stomping boots.

Fresh had never looked so good.

Then, a few months back, an online publication had featured his band in the year’s 50 best bands "you’ve never heard of," and now the band's starting to gain traction.

He’s starting to gain traction.

Finding the new online content of him first has become a game the two of us play. We had to stop counting images posted from the popular fan accounts because Mary's now acquaintances with most of them, and I said it was hardly fair to snipe me that way. Mary had pouted—but it was to cover up his grin. So now we troll for the pictures of his latest gig or at his favorite haunts from either his casual fans or one of his new ones. I even have a whole range of hashtag typos saved if I really want to triumph, since Mary just doesn't have the attention span.

I usually win, though, by virtue of not keeping Rockstar Hours—and because Mary doesn’t have a smartphone. Mary delights in spending the wee hours while I'm sleeping finding new content, and I'll often wake to one he's pulled up on my laptop and a "suck it" sticky note stuck to my monitor.

(But I’m reigning supreme.)

There’s a thirst tag I sometimes comb through (for reasons), and today I’m desperate for that morning serotonin to keep me from dozing off, which is why I stumble across a particularly convincing cosplayer in some…risqué poses and outfits.

The dude is really good, and I have to admit he really does have Mary’s mannerisms down pat. He’s younger and a little skinnier than Mary is now, but his facial expressions are on point. I zoom in to see the contouring technique because he's using one of those filters to make it look old…and that’s when I sense something off. I can’t quite place my finger on it, but usually there’s an uncanny valley to his serious cosplayers, and this dude looks so real. He’s even 100% accurate with the mole placement, which is something I never see.

My heart does a flip-flop.

Is that…actually Mary?

Foundling

Mary's sixth night in the city, it rained. It was more of a brief Spring shower, but it was still enough to soak him and his backpack through. He shivered through the early morning hours until the sun came up, then he made his way to the Commons to lay his belongings—and himself—out into the sun to dry.

By midday, he had a slight sunburn across his nose, but most of his things were dryish—though the food was a soggy lost cause. He cut his losses and decided to buy a sausage from the hotdog vendor, even if that meant he was down to $52.37 in his sock bank.

It was the most amazing thing he'd ever eaten in his entire life (sometimes he still dreams of it), and he gobbled it down as he sat in the grass and watched the show of people pass by.

He could take today off from his job search.

Just another Groundhog Day of rejections.

A gaggle of kids about his age walked past, and he lit up when he saw them: studs and bright hair and cuffs and combat boots. They ran and shrieked and shoved at each other, and Mary had never felt such longing to be a part of something.

Not that nebulous feeling of "my world is out there somewhere," but "my world is right there if I can just get to it."

And he realized maybe he could.

These were his people.

Mary hopped off the bench and approached the boisterous group.

"Uh, hey…guys."

The pack stopped and looked him over, confused but not hostile.

"Oh hey, man" said a girl with green fins and a studded, leather jacket.

"Hey."

I have nowhere to go. Can I go with you?

"Sorry, I forgot your name."

"Oh, you don’t—"

A guy in a tight striped shirt, snake bites, and blue hair interrupted him.

"Shit, were you in my intro into film class last year?"

Mary was a high school dropout.

"Nah, dude. I’m new and shit."

…But he wasn’t stupid.

A curvy white goth with bleached blonde hair and a cream princess dress smiled at him.

"Aww, that’s rough, honey. If you think about it, they really ought to give transfers on-campus housing. It sucks to be so new and away from the action."

Mary nodded. "Yeah. Sucks."

"Well, we’re going to The Pit, wanna come?"

"If you guys don’t mind…"

"Fuck, the more the merrier!"

Mary smiled as they assimilated him into the group. He found out the goth’s name was Vanessa ("But call me Vanity."), green fins was Alexa ("Or Alex. I’m trying it out."), striped shirt was Billy, and the two other punks were Mandi (Manic Panic red) and Aaron (band tee, spiked collar).

No one laughed at him when he introduced himself as Mary or asked him why he had a girl’s name.

They took him onto the T at Charles MGH, and Mary marveled at the setting sun over the Charles River before the train ducked underground to barrel in Cambridge. At Harvard, they ushered him off the train and directly into The Pit, and Mary almost cried when he saw the pit rats there playing hacky sack, strumming guitars, and smoking cloves. Mary watched as his group high-fived, bumped chests, and hugged nearly everyone there before introducing him as if they’d known him for years.

He was shit at hacky sack, but he accepted a round on the guitar and shared a clove with a white girl who had a rat's nest of hair.

"Fuck their beauty stands," she said when she caught Mary staring.

Mary smiled and pointed to his own mess of hair. "Fuck ‘em," he repeated.

She cackled and handed him a brown bag with what he expected to be whiskey, but tasted like turpentine.

She laughed harder at his face as he coughed, and she pounded him on the back.

"Moonshine, dude. Lenny makes it in his bathtub."

"Which one is Lenny," Mary asked as he wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Oh, he’s not here. He goes to MIT. We have a strict trade agreement—booze for pot. I’m Katie."

Head fuzzy, Mary had made out with her until Aaron tugged on his arm.

"Shit dude, we gotta go before the T closes. You live close to here?"

"Uh…"

"Aww, I think he got into Lenny’s moonshine," said Vanity. "If he’s a transfer, I bet he’s at some shithole in Allston. You in Allston, honey?"

Mary just nodded.

"All right then," said Alex, taking charge. "We’ll put him up tonight. There’s no way he’s gonna make it back to Allston by himself, and I’ll be fucked if I’m trekking out there without a BU party to crash."

Mary wobbled slightly as Alex took his arm in his and led him to the T.

"Ok, we gotta go now or we’ll all be hoofing it."

They took Mary back to their dorm by the Hatch Shell and signed him in as a guest.

"Is this ok?" Mary asked warily—he didn't want to get kicked out in the middle of the night.

Mandi patted him on the back.

"We do it all time. No one really gives a shit. Vegan Mick dropped out 2 semesters ago and they don’t even check for his ID."

That night, Mary slept in the common room on a lumpy couch that was half as long as he was.

It was heaven.

The next morning seemed like the end, and Mary slumped as Vanity to sign him out. For one brief day he'd been a part of something, and now it was back to Mary, party of one. But Vanity took one look at his face and asked if he wanted to get breakfast at the dining hall.

Of course, he wanted to…but he thought of the dwindling cash in sock bank and hesitated. Vanity, bless her, misread his trepidation.

"It's on me, sweetie. I know most transfers don’t opt in. Too expensive when it’s not bundled. No worries, I got a ton of points I don’t use."

Alex and Aaron were already half done with their food when Vanity and he joined them, and they looked on in amusement as Mary ate half the breakfast buffet.

When the subject of classes came up, he shrugged off questions.

"None this morning."

Alex narrowed her eyes at him.

"What year did you say you were?"

"Sophomore."

"Not a freshman?"

Mary shook his head. "I’m not a freshman."

She seemed about to ask another question, so Mary quickly changed the subject.

"I thought I’d spend the day applying for jobs. You guys know of any place that’s hiring?"

"No work study?"

"No."

"What kind of work you looking for?"

"Shit, anything. I’ll sweep the fucking floors."

They bandied about ideas, places for Mary to try, but no one had any leads. Too soon, some unknown gong had them scurrying to get to class.

Mary suddenly panicked.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I spend the night again? I mean…"

"Yeah, sure," said Vanity. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, man. Meet me after class and I'll swipe you in."

It apparently was a time-honored tradition, passed down from upperclassmen to underclassmen, on gaming the guest system. Most kids used it to essentially move their significant others into their dorm rooms, but a handful every year used it to give haven to others who had questionable housing situations.

So, just like that, Mary had a place to rest his bones.

@dilfpassing

A Deeper Look

I’m so intent on scrolling through the comments on the grainy pics—which I'm sure now are actual scans—that I completely miss my stop, and I have to put my phone away so I can wheeze lightly jog my way to where I work as a receptionist at an alternative hair salon.

It’s really important that I start a good hour before we open so I can return any calls left on our voicemail first thing in case I can fit anyone in today. Which means I have to shelve my find for now, much to my irritation.

Mornings are super-busy because apparently there are some people in the world that like getting up with the sun and want everything done by noon. (June Cleaver’s salon lets me get away with a lot—like coming to work in denim short-shorts and ripped tights, free hair colors, and a snarky attitude—but late start times aren’t one of them.) I honestly don’t have room in my brain to obsess about the pictures because I’m too busy answering calls, making coffee, settling accounts, and giving the new customer spiel for the 57th time to a walk-in.

It’s just after midday, when Penny, the shampoo girl, collects my cash for the salon-wide sandwich run, and I finally have a moment to breathe. And obsess.

I take out my phone again, and I have to retrace my steps because of course the app has refreshed, which is why Sonia has the time to look over my shoulder.

"Missing dream boy’s dick so much you gotta spend your lunch hour ogling pics of him on the internet?"

I zoom in on the one of maybe!Mary in his underwear.

"Who does that look like to you?"

Sonia makes a guh sound in her throat and backs away.

"I don’t need to see your intimates!"

"That’s the thing! It’s not mine!"

"Your boy’s nudes get leaked??"

I wave my arms around.

"I don’t freakin’ know! They may not even be him. Fucking. C’mere and help me out!"

Sonia warily creeps back over, and so does Ryan, since all the yelling has attracted him.

The three of us peer over the phone as I scroll through the images again.

By the time Penny comes back with lunch, we’ve gone back and forth on who’s in the images—Mary or a fake—and I haven’t been able to do any actual research. The afternoon rush starts, and I have to table the whole thing again, having made no progress at all.

It isn’t until near-closing, when most of the other stylists have gone home—and it’s only June who does the post-work crowd—that I can really dig into the matter.

A deep dive and a couple of defunct, decade-old forums later, I find that what I took as an aspirational hashtag was actually the name of a zine called "Heroes."

There’s like, zero online trail about it—except for a few other grainy scans of other pages of articles, poetry, concert pictures, and art—but it seemed to be an early aughts missive for local underground culture and color.

It still doesn’t explain why Mary’s in there in various states of undress and poses.

Or why Mary has never said a word about it to me.

Stripped Bare

Mary settled into a sort of routine. He spent most days looking for a job—any job—with his backpack full of food from their dining hall. Most nights he rotated couches on different floors so the RAs didn’t notice that he basically lived there.

He made friends with Vegan Mick for about 5 seconds until Mary had eaten an entire Rotisserie chicken from 7-11 in front of him. Mick had launched into a whole spiel, and Mary had pointed out that Mick's jacket and Docs were made of leather. He’d only meant it as a joke—a callout in answer to a callout, like he'd do with his friends back home—but Vegan Mick had turned purple, then iced Mary out every time he saw him after that.

Oops.

The brief friendship had lasted long enough, however, for Mick to give Mary some tips and tricks of being homeless.

Homeless.

That had been a tough pill to swallow. Until Vegan Mick had put Mary’s situation like that, Mary had just thought of himself between places.

But it was true: he didn’t live anywhere. He skated by on the kindness of his new friends, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse of "transfer student who didn’t like his shithole apartment and was too busy job searching to concentrate on classes."

He still spent a few nights a week finding an out-of-the-way place outside to hunker down in or huddling in with Katie and a few of the other gutter punks under their boxes in the corners of the T stations. He knew they would have been more than happy to make room, anyway, but Mary always emptied his backpack of all the pilfered dining hall food for distribution amongst them.

It honestly wasn't so terrible now that he had friends and a warm place to go on cold or rainy nights, but.

He needed an actual place to live. To afford an actual place to live, he needed a job. To get a job, he needed a place to live.

It seemed like a catch-22, and he began to despair that he’d never get ahead…until Mandi offered him a leg up.

Mary was sitting on the grass in the Commons in the shade, thinking that with summer coming up, maybe he could fudge it until the gang came back in September. There was always Katie and The Pit, and Mary was sure he could chip in somehow.

Mandi sat down next to him.

"I thought that mess of hair was you, Mare."

"Hey, Mandi. What’s kicks?"

"You still looking for a job?"

Mary put his head in his hands and sighed.

"Don’t remind me."

"You over 18?"

Just last week. But Mary hadn’t said, since they thought he was a Sophomore.

"Yeah."

"Wanna be at least 21?"

Mary grinned at her.

"That’s what my fake ID says."

She laughed, a tinkling thing.

"You got anything against strip clubs?"

Mary furrowed his brows at her.

"Uh…what’s the right answer here?"

She shoved him playfully.

"Do you want a job?"

"Yeah?"

"Then say no."

"No. No problems with strip clubs." He squinted at her. "Are they looking for male strippers?"

She laughed again.

"Definitely not." She canted her head at Mary. "I mean, you're very pretty, Mare. I could probably put you on as one of the girls…even with these triple As," she flicked playfully at his nipple, which had him grunting and batting at her, "but I was thinking more behind the scenes."

Mary held up his arm and made a weak muscle.

"I don’t think I’d be much of a bouncer, Mands."

"You said you’d wash dishes, sweep floors and shit, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, the club I work at—"

"The club at you what now?"

Mandi gave him a strange look.

"Yeah. The strip club I work at."

Mary’s eyes bugged out.

"As a…waitress?"

"As a stripper, Mary. Duh." At his dumbfounded look she shook her head. "It’s kind of extra credit, as a dance major. I’m going to turn it into my thesis. Plus, I make hella bank."

She swept her arm across the park that made up her college "campus."

"How else do you think I can afford this rock-and-roll lifestyle? Not all of us are here on scholarship or mom and dad’s dime."

She tilted her head at him.

"I thought you’d get it."

When Mary didn't respond, she touched his shoulder.

"Mare. I know you don't go here."

"W-what…? I…"

He looked at her, wide-eyed as the blood drained from his face.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm not gonna tell anybody. Not if you don't want me to."

Mary looked down. "Thanks." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You know that means I've got no address."

Mandi bumped his shoulder and waved his words away.

"A lot of the girls dance. Paddy is used to dorm rooms as addresses. You can use mine."

Mary looked at her, hoping he could convey every ounce of gratitude he was feeling.

She grinned and punched him in the shoulder.

"So, you up for it? Sweeping floors and bussing tables?" She leveled a look at him. "Cleaning up puke?"

Anything.

"Fuck, I’m desperate, Mands. I’ll hold their hair back if it means a paycheck."

"That’s the spirit!"

***

Mary was sure Patrick was part of the mob—or at least in cahoots. The guy had taken one look at Mary’s ID and had said, "But how old are you really?" and Mary had said, "Nineteen."

Patrick had thrown up his hands. "Well, you ain’t gonna be serving alcohol anyway, kid. Your job is to do whatever I tell you. Some asshole breaks a bottle, you clean up the glass so the girls don’t hurt themselves. Some idiot ralphs all over the toilet seat, you scrub the shit out of that fucker. A bachelor party leaves a table a hot mess, you better be out there clearing off the table for the next one, got it?"

Mary had nodded.

"You show up at 5 to help the girls set up the bar. You stay til whenever it takes to close down—but you only get paid 'til 2am—and you get an hour to eat, unpaid. You don’t bother the girls, and," Patrick had leaned in, "you don’t steal from me."

Mary had gulped and nodded emphatically.

Patrick had jabbed a finger at him. "That includes the booze. If I get fucked because some snot-nosed, underage kid is drinking with my good friends Jim and Johnnie, I’m gonna be very put out."

"Got it, sir."

"Don’t call me sir. I’m Paddy to my friends, so you can call me Patrick."

"Yes, Patrick."

Patrick had looked him over.

"You get paid as an independent contractor just like the girls, so you gotta deal with your own taxes, you got that? I’ll start you at $10 an hour."

Mary’s eyes had gone wide. Back home he was lucky to get 5.

"Ten…?"

Patrick had tilted his head again.

"No, you’re right, 12. Do a good job, and I’ll think about raising it to 15."

Mary had to physically stop his jaw from dropping.

"You do weeknights for now so if you fuck up it’s not that much of a problem. If you don’t fuck up and the girls don’t hate you, you can get weekends. Deal?"

Mary had sat up straighter. "Deal." He’d held his hand out, but Patrick had just looked at it until Mary pulled it back into his side.

"Ariel vouched for you, so I’m giving you a shot. Don’t make her regret it."

Mary had shaken his head as Patrick had handed him some forms to fill out.

"Come back at 4 tomorrow with these and we’ll get you started. Now, get out, I got shit to do."

Mary had taken the forms and skedaddled.

Mandi was outside waiting for him, all smiles.

"Did you get it?"

"Yeah, but fuck—your boss is scary."

"Nah, he’s a teddy bear."

***

The job was awful.

The puke was an almost nightly occurrence, and by the end of the first week, little cuts covered Mary’s hands from the broken glass. The customers were loud, rowdy, and acted as if their mother was going to clean up after them.

Mary swore he would never get the beer smell out. It now lived in his soul.

One dude punched Mary and broke his nose for no reason Mary could tell before the bouncers dragged the guy away. The girls gave him some tampons to stop the bleeding, and Mary finished his shift.

Patrick paid Mary in cash at the end of every week with a "It’s your job to report that, not mine," and at the end of the month, Patrick bumped Mary up to $15/hr. He worked 5 days a week because, according to Patrick, "The Lord gave us a day of rest, and you get one day off per week."

Mary never reported a single cent to the IRS.

The girls loved him, and joked that Patrick had gotten them a pet. They showed him winged eyeliner and smokey eyes and how to contour. They guffawed when they watched him try out their shoes like a newborn deer. On slow nights, they tried to show him pole techniques.

He saw the gang less and less because by the time they were getting out of class, he was going into work, and when he was done work, they were crawling into bed. Fortunately, the desk sitters seemed to forget that he wasn’t an on-campus "student" and didn’t even bother signing him in anymore. There were a few sticklers, but Mary found that—while back home he was less than scum—here, he attracted all the right kinds of attention…and a smirk with the right compliment went a long way.

By the time their school year ended, Mary had saved up $1,000 (and he needed to transfer his money out of sock bank and into the ripped lining of his jacket).

Even though they didn't know just how much they'd saved him, Mary showed up on the last day as thanks to help them all move their stuff into family cars or rented trucks. They hugged him goodbye and said to ring them next semester.

Mandi bopped him on the nose and told him to keep his nose clean.

Mary took a sublet in Allston with 2 BU kids and a Berkley grad student. The "room" was a closed-in porch with a sleeping bag left by the last resident—but it was $400 a month until September, utilities included.

At first, Mary didn't know why the gang was so snobby about Allston, but the summer seemed to be one continual party. It didn't matter what day Mary got up, there were always broken beer bottles and stale beer on their front stoop, and the apartment had a designated watering can for washing away the vomit that dripped down from the top porches to their own.

But he took it in stride, and when he wasn’t at the strip club or sleeping, he was partying with the BU kids, or letting the Berkley grad show him better string fingering techniques.

Mary still tried to get out to The Pit with what groceries he could spare, but Katie had moved on with some of the others to do a protest tour with an activist street band that had come through town, and without her or the gang, it made Mary feel lonely.

By the end of the summer, Mary had saved up enough money for first, last, and security. He even had some left over to buy more than ramen and some new clothes. To Mary, it felt like a million dollars. He rented a garden-level apartment in the cheap part of Jamaica Plain for September 1st and spent that entire day with the BU dudes driving around in their rented truck for Allston Christmas’s best furniture finds.

Mary ended up with a mattress that he hoped on a wish and a prayer didn’t have bedbugs, a mismatched set of dishes, plastic drawers that were slightly warped, and a broken futon frame he swore he would fix. Throw in a few sets of slightly used string lights, and Mary’s cave felt downright homey.

When the gang got back, he simply told them he’d dropped out.

"Yeah, I just don’t think college is for me. Music’s my real passion, you know?"

Alex had groaned.

"I knew that Berkley kid was gonna be a bad influence on you."

Mary shrugged.

"My grades were shit anyway. But I’m still around, you know. The strip club’s only a block from campus."

"Because we saw you so much then," deadpanned Billy.

"Hey! Stop piling on Mary," said Vanity. "He’s following his path."

Mary shot her a wide smile.

"Thanks, Vanity."

Patrick finally gave him a little more leeway with his days off, and Mary started taking Saturday night to join the gang in Harvard Square for the shadow cast of Rocky Horror. One of Aaron’s classmates, Amber, was in it, and they all wanted to support her.

Mary felt that something again. That thing that told that this was his place and his people. This eclectic group who got up in front of strangers every week in their underwear for free enthralled Mary.

He and Amber bonded immediately, and Mary began going even without the gang. The cast welcomed him in as an honorary groupie, and Mary's friendship with the gang waned. There was still Mandi to cavort with at the strip club, but now when Mary wasn't there, he was at any one of the Rocky crew's apartments getting high and playing dress up.

"You’ve got such a Look, Mare," sighed Amber. "I’d kill for your cheekbones."

"I’d kill for your tits."

She slapped him playfully. "Don’t be gross."

"No, I’m serious. Someone once put it in my head that I'd be a hot chick."

The girls had giggled and proceeded to dress him up in bras and corsets with cutlets. They added a wig, and the glo-up surprised even Mary.

Still buzzed, they went out for girl’s night and hit up all the bars in Fenway and flirted their way to free shots from the dude bros before batting their falsies at bouncers to let them into the clubs ahead of the line and without the cover.

The cutlets eventually became a nuisance—and soon they were all flapping them about above their heads as they danced—but Mary had loved the feel of the lace and satin corsets against his skin.

When they’d all collapsed in a pile at the end of the night, Mary wondered if they’d tell him where to get some lingerie for himself.

***

By August, Mary was ready to quit the strip club.

He was tired of cut fingers (they were making it hard to play the guitar he’d bought), the drunks, and the sick everywhere. Now that he had a little cushion, he thought maybe he could at least find something with better hours.

Mandi had graduated and was well into a summer internship at Disney in hopes they’d bring her on as a dancer.

Alex had also graduated and moved out to LA to make it as a film editor.

Vanity and Aaron had started dating after finals, and they had moved in together in Cambridgeport for their last year.

Billy had stopped going to classes before dropping out altogether. No one seemed to know what happened, and when they called his home, his mother just said he was unavailable.

There didn’t seem to be much reason to stick around the Grid anymore, and it was a bitch of a commute back to his place if he wasn’t going to hang out with the Rocky crew. He landed a job at a record store that was walking distance to his apartment.

Patrick seemed surprisingly sad to see him go, saying, "Ah, the good ones smart up," and gave him a $500 bonus for not "fucking up."

Tim, one of the older Rocky people, turned out to not live too far from him, and when Mary started hanging out there, so did the party.

Now that Mary was no longer shackled by the strip club’s hours, his world opened a few more degrees. He spent his nights dressing up while he watched the cast rehearse. (When he showed them a move or two he learned from the women at the club, they tried to get him to do a guest star as Frank. But Mary had shaken his head and said that wasn’t the kind of performing he wanted to do.)

When they weren't rehearsing, they dragged Mary to TT The Bear’s, The Middle East, and The Milky Way Lounge for underground shows. They took him to fetish night at ManRay after a trip to Hubba Hubba for pleather and lingerie, and Mary made a lot of new friends.

Sometimes, Mary would show up to work straight off a night out in his club clothes, eyeliner smudged and lipstick smeared. It should have got him fired, but his boss just shrugged.

"I used to keep rockstar hours too."

Mary still wore all his old vestiges—his battle vest and his ripped jeans—it was just that now he sometimes added a corset and heels.

Wherever Katie was now, he hoped she knew he was still fucking their beauty standards.

ry.omen Insta

Answer Me This

I practically vibrate the entire way back to our place. I'm still trying to wring information out of the internet like it's too-wet clothes, but the only thing I accomplish is making myself motion sick on the bus, so I put my phone back in my pocket and breath through my nose.

When I get home, Mary is sprawled across the couch in his pjs with various limbs hanging over sides and edges as he watches some extreme sport show on my laptop.

I wonder if he just got up, but I see the start of dinner on the stove, so I decide not to snark at him.

"Hey," he says without looking up.

I am, however, gonna need some answers on "Heroes."

I gently close the laptop, and he meets my eyes.

"What?"

I climb onto the couch, and Mary’s limbs recede like vines to make room for me as I scroll through my phone to my photo app where I’ve saved screenshots.

"Lucy," I say in a terrible accent, "you have some ‘splaining to do!"

Mary squints at me and takes my phone, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Shit, babe. Where’d ya find these??"

"So they are you!"

He chuckles.

"Christ…I haven't thought about these in fucking years."

"Mind telling me what the fuck?" I ask, my hands on my hips.

I'm only half joking.

Mary grimaces at me.

"Ah."

"I'm gonna need more than that, mister."

He rubs the back of his neck.

"Fuck, you know those were hard times for me."

I know about his family, the homelessness. I know he tried out a lot until he found a life that fit. He'd given me the overviews with occasional anecdotes filled with names I never remembered.

But none of them included naughty pictures.

I worm my way under his arm.

"Yeah, I know, Mare."

His hand strokes down my arm.

"I mean, shit. I was kinda an asshole, you know?"

I wrap an arm around his chest.

"You're still kind of an asshole, Goore."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

When he doesn't say more, I poke him hard in the side.

"I’m literally dying here."

He laughs a little.

"Fine. But you gotta remember you asked."

Model Behavior

One day, Mary was walking down the street on his way to drinks with the new friends he'd made the weekend before. It was a good day. He wasn’t hungover as fuck, his makeup was only smudged artfully, and he was pretty sure he was going to get laid.

A guy in a leather jacket and tight jeans maybe a few years older than Mary stopped him on the street.

"Hey, man! I love your style."

Mary batted his eyelashes at him. "Thanks, dude."

"You ever think of dark modeling?"

Mary squinted his eyes at him.

"Dark what now?"

"You know—modeling but like," he gestured up and down Mary’s form, "for dark beauties. Show the world beauty isn’t cookie cutter."

"For like what? A website or some shit?"

The guy dug into his pocket, pulled out a card case, and handed one to Mary.

Heroes Greg Karson, Photographer/Web Design Butera School of Art

Actually, Mary had heard of this. It was a zine about the local happenings around town—concerts, art shows, parties, etc. There was a stack of them next to "Rrriot!" in the record shop. He’d flipped through one occasionally, mostly interested in the band reviews.

"We’re really on the lookout for anyone with the right look. You know, wear stuff you already own."

"So like a street fashion spread?"

"Well, we might do a little more with it, but—you know how it is. Most of the budget goes toward printing costs."

Mary perked up.

"Would I be paid?"

Greg laughed.

"Peanuts, my dude. But yeah. Even if it’s a T token. You interested, then?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Mind if I take a few test shots."

Mary smirked at Greg.

"How do you want me?"

"Just natural."

Putting his hands in his pockets, Mary arched his back and gave Greg his best snotty hipster face.

Greg dug out a digital camera from his carrying case and took a dozen or so pictures of Mary from different angles while telling him to turn this way or that.

Afterwards, the two of them huddled over the camera and scrolled through the shots.

"Aw yeah, this one. I love the attitude. The guys are gonna love it. You have a number where we can reach you?"

Mary gave him the number of the record shop. (His apartment had a phone, but he’d never gotten around to wanting to pay for service.)

Later, he and Amber looked up the Angelfire website on the back of the card. It was one page that contained the mission statement, bios of the creators, and locations to pick up the zine.

"Omigod—you’re gonna become a famous model, Mare!"

"Yeah, right. You know most of it ends up in the trash, right?"

But when Ben called, Mary said he was game. He directed Mary to a co-op in a converted warehouse in Dorchester, and Mary brought his favorite clothes in a borrowed duffle.

A girl in cat pajamas opened the door and pointed at a set of metal stairs with her cereal spoon.

On the second floor, Mary found Greg setting up a makeshift studio. A girl with multiple piercings and yarn dreads leaned against the wall in her black babydoll dress.

Mary sidled up to her.

"You here to model, too?"

She gave him an unimpressed once-over.

"I’m the art director, asshole."

Mary flushed hard as she turned to Greg.

"Couldn’t find one with brains?"

She turned back to Mary.

"I don’t know if you thought this would be a good way to meet chicks or what, dude. But I’m letting you know right now that I’m here on my day off to make sure this adheres to our aesthetic, so if you're not serious, fuck off."

Mary rubbed the back of his neck.

"Shit, sorry. I was expecting a dude named Ben."

She waved her hand in the air as if dispelling Ben.

"The Bens are morons. Good idea, terrible execution. I’m here to make sure we remain true to the idea of 'Heroes,' so don’t fuck up my shoot." She gave him a once over. "Christ. You have any experience?"

Greg turned from where he was testing the white balance.

"Angelique, stop harassing the talent. We get it, you have a degree from RISD."

Angelique snorted.

"As if I don't hear you going on and on about being a professional photographer. 'Hey, lemme shoot your portfolio, baby.' Whatever. As if we're not your only professional credit."

"Hey—you wanted a photographer for peanuts? You got me. You wanted models for peanuts? You got him."

Mary gave her his full snaggle-toothed grin.

"I take T tokens."

Angelique sighed, then pasted on a smile.

"Hi! So happy you’re here!" Her smile drooped. "You got your wardrobe in there?"

"Yeah."

Mary handed her the duffle, and she handed him release forms.

"Here: sign these"

She pawed through his offerings.

"Not bad, not bad." She pulled out a corset and his heeled boots. "We'll keep you in your jeans and have you wear your jacket over your corset. Cool?"

Cool.

The shoot was as professional as a shoot in a warehouse in what Mary was taking to usually be a living room could be. Angelique directed Greg with what she wanted. Greg called out positions and expressions for Mary to pose in.

It was surprisingly hard work, and by the end of a solid hour, his smirking lip was getting tired. Angelique and Greg scrolled through the shots, murmuring to themselves and nodding.

Mary waited—greeting at the other inhabitants as they squeezed by on their way either up or down—until Angelique approached him.

"That’ll do. You mind if we post on our website?"

Mary preened.

"Yeah, that’s kosher."

She handed him a pen and pocket notebook.

"Write down a quick bio."

He scribbled down a quick elevator pitch

Into general skulking and metal \m/

and handed the notebook back to her.

"Great, thanks."

She handed him a $20 bill, her eyes skimming him up and down.

"Next time we should show off those hip bones. Just jeans, I think."

Mary perked up. "Next time?"

"We’ll call you."

***

"Omigod, omigod!"

Amber perched on the record store counter, flipping through "Heroes," as Jon peered over her shoulder.

"Mary…look at you!"

Mary tried to swallow his smug smile.

Failed.

"Yeah. I’m hot shit, ain’t I?"

She bopped him on the nose with the newsprint.

"Don’t be vain."

He showed her his toothy smile.

"I like to think of it as confidence."

"So did Icarus."

Mary snorted and went back to putting prices on the new CDs.

"The camera loves you," said Jon, who was always quiet and reserved as you please…until he put on Frank’s corset and heels.

Mary had tried flirting with him, but Jon always ducked his head and played it off.

"Thanks, man," said Mary, giving him a softer smile.

"So??"

"So what, Amber?"

"Are you gonna do it again?"

Mary shrugged.

"I mean, if they call me, sure."

But he was kind of hoping they would.

When the next issue came out weeks later, Mary stared at the cybergoth on the pages and felt himself deflate. Listlessly, he thumbed through the delicate print, barely skimming the section devoted to the World/Inferno Friendship Society’s set he’d been at the week before.

He set it down with a sigh before he picked up his guitar and plucked out a tune he was trying to coax into a riff.

By the time a Ben called again, Mary had given up the modeling thing as a one-off.

"Hey, dude—thought maybe you guys forgot about me," Mary said in a teasing tone.

The Ben on the other end chuckled.

"It’s like herding cats to get shit out. Nah, dude—we definitely want you to be one of our regulars. You in for next Saturday?"

He was.

***

Over the course of a year, "Heroes" had Mary come out multiple times for shoots. Mainly, Mary wore his own clothes and did his own makeup, but occasionally, Angelique wanted something specific.

"How comfortable are you with boudoir shots?"

"With what?"

"Like a pinup, but more…saucy than sexy."

I'd pose nude if you paid me enough.

(Sure, he was a noodle boy, but he knew he had the goods.)

"Yeah, I’m cool with that."

Angelique brightened at him.

"Great!"

She picked up a set of complicated leather garters and thrust them at him.

"Put these on."

Mary had only ever worn lace garters—mostly out to clubs, but occasionally under his ripped jeans for an extra pop—but he found he liked these even more, liked the way they emphasized his thighs.

"Hey—where’d you get these…?"

(He was already thinking of what he could pair them with for goth night.)

"Local leatherworker. He mostly does pieces for Renn Fairs, but he'll also do custom. I can give you his info."

She led Mary into what was clearly someone's bedroom.

"Don't fuck anything up, or Joye will never let us use this again."

Mary shot her his best shark smile.

"Hey, I only mess up the sheets if someone asks."

Angelique gave him a flat look and called for Greg.

(But when he draped himself over the bed and told Greg to "Paint me like one of your French girls," Mary could have sworn she almost smiled.)

On one memorable occasion, she brought in a guy whose rope bondage demo she watched at a sex convention.

"Put on some of that lingerie and we'll truss you up. You ok with that, Goore?"

Mary ran his fingers over the coils and gave her a wolfish smile.

"You know I'm game for anything."

She gave him a vulpine smile of her own then, and she looked down at him from the height of her platformed boots.

"Good. I thought you should be submissive for once."

Mary had no witty rejoinder for that.

He listened with interest as the guy carefully explained what he was going to do, complete with pictures, and he relaxed easily into the process. (They put bunny ears on him, and it would be much, much later that he got that particular joke. Well played, Angelique.)

The ropes hadn’t let him do much posing, but Mary had kind of liked the constriction, and his thoughts were already on asking Amber to help him create a more versatile version for fetish night.

He’d left that day with a new kink…and the guy’s number.

"Why not just do one big shoot?" he asked another time. "Get it all done in one big bang!"

Angelique held up his garments to eyeball over him.

"Honey, we never even know if there's gonna be a next issue. The Bens spend most of the time arguing. My god you should hear them—Ben bankrolls the whole thing, so he says he should get final say on shit, and Benji wants total artistic control because it was his idea, because 'he's the graphic designer', and because it's his Kinko's employee discount they use."

She gave Mary a curled-lip smile as she tossed a few items at him.

"In the end it's this bitch you're looking at who gets shit done."

Mary began to change (they were long past modesty).

"How'd you get involved?"

"Went to school with Benji."

"Ben too?"

"Neg. The Bens are childhood friends. Ben works some cushy start-up job, so Benji lets him bankroll them both. Rent, utilities—everything. I love Benji to death, but he's a giant mooch."

"Shit, that must be nice."

Angelique shrugged. She stood back to appraise Mary's look.

"It's fucking lame. But it least it gets us fucking paid."

Mary didn't say I'd do this for free. Instead, he struck a pose and said, "I'm just happy for the exposure."

Angelique rolled her eyes and went to fetch Greg.

***

That year and a half would become a nonstop party with Mary as one of the VIPs; he wouldn't say no to anything—be it casual sex, club appearances, or whatever drug the current pretty thing was offering him in the bathroom.

But recognition started slow.

At first, it was customers who would leaf through the zine and recognize Mary.

Then, it was the occasional scenester who’d stop him on the street in JP as he walked about, and Mary would pose for grainy cell phone pics.

Soon, he was being approached at shows and clubs. The first time it happened, Mary was high off his new infamy and ready to please. A woman in a black bandage bra and pleated skirt with bondage straps approached him, and Mary was already thinking of what he could do with those.

"You look like that guy in ‘Heroes’!" she'd shouted to him over the music.

Mary had flashed her a crooked smile and leaned in.

"Maybe I am the guy in ‘Heroes’."

She'd given him an exaggerated once over before sidling closer with hooded eyes.

"I dunno…you're wearing way more clothes."

Mary had pulled his mesh top down by the collar in a tease as he'd curled over her.

"Take me somewhere more private and I’ll let you do a comparison."

She'd compared him all night.

And that was before he and the other "Heroes" models formed their own posse.

The Bens had thrown a BBQ and had invited everyone they'd ever met. There were people packed into their little 2 bedroom in Brighton, spilling down the back stairs, and equally packed into the little square of shared backyard. Ben had taken the 12-pack of 'Gansett beers Mary had brought, then introduced him to the other dark models.

"Now you're all here!" said Ben. He slung his arm around Mary. "Guys, this is Mary. Mary this is Mayhem, Lesley, Lola, and Bryan."

Mayhem was a rivethead, and Mary took to him instantly, but he was wary of the others. Lesley was the cybergoth who'd been in the first issue after him, and Mary still felt a bit salty at them, even though Mary knew by now the Bens rotated the models. Lola, the romantic goth, reminded him enough of Vanity that he felt guilty for losing touch with her and had him projecting a little. Bryan was a metalhead, so: competition.

Mary had thought they'd get along like cats and water, but weed, booze, and "Never Have I Ever" went a long way to creating a shared bond.

And there it was again. That pull. The magnetic force telling him that he'd found the place he was supposed to be. They quickly coalesced into their own pack, calling themselves the "Deathbutantes" (because they always killed it when they debuted for the night).

It had been rare for Mary to miss Friday and Saturday night shenanigans with the Rocky crew, but now, every night was Friday night. There was always a show or a concert or club that one of them knew about—and if they couldn't get lucky with the local color, they'd just go home with each other.

Mayhem taught Mary what Lola jokingly called the "grab a bat" dance, and the two of them cut quite the picture on the dance floors.

Lesley took to Lola, and the two of them could always be counted on for scintillating conversation in dark corners when Mary's limbst needed a break from flailing about.

The clubs weren't really Bryan's scene—take him to a sticky hole in the wall with concrete floors and a stage close enough to feel the sweat from the bands, and he was in heaven—but he liked to come along to hang. He'd drink PBRs, rub Lola's feet when she invariably abandoned her heels for the evening, and argue with Mary about the purity of death metal.

Mayhem and Lola weren't really into live music of the screaming kind, so—while Lesley, Bryan, and Mary bounced off each other in the mosh pits—they'd save a "home" base at one the bartops.

Amber noticed Mary's diminishing presence and stopped by the record shop to call him out.

"So you're not dead! Could've fooled me."

Mary was organizing the albums into order, and he grunted at her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm a cad. I'll make it up to you."

"You missed game night."

"Sorry. Jethro Tull played some tiny venue in nowhere Mass, and Bryan was salivating. I mean, Jethro Tull. Can you blame me?"

He looked at her, arms out wide in supplication. But she just blinked at him.

"You have no idea who Jethro Tull is, do you?"

"Sorry, dude. But christ, Mare. You should have invited me. I'd've gone. Maybe I would have even liked them. Now you'll never know."

"I could just lend you an album."

"Nope! The moment passed. Too late!"

Mary riffled through the stock and shoved a Jethro Tull CD into her hands.

She tapped it against her thigh.

"So, when do I get to hang?"

"I can get us into 80s night free."

"No, I mean, with your cooler friends. Your 'murder models', or whatever."

"You wanna hang out with the Deathbutantes?"

Amber scrunched her nose.

"That's so fucking pretentious."

Mary kind of liked it.

"Dunno if they're really your scene."

"Oh? And what's my scene?"

"Musical theater on crack."

She mock gasped at him, "Called out!" before smacking him with the CD. "Whatever. You love musical theater on crack."

Mary draped his arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I do. But I don't live it, you know? You guys have your niche—and fuck…I love to visit—but it's not mine."

Amber looked up at him, her expression serious.

"So the Dumbutantes are your niche?"

Mary shrugged and went back to shelving.

The Rocky crew had been good to him. They'd taken him under their wing, no questions asked, and helped him realize things about himself. Tim had taken him to the ER when Mary had come down with a serious case of the flu. Matty had taught him the basics of sewing. Gretchen had held him after a bad trip. Omar and he had had many drunken heart-to-hearts about their shitty home lives.

And Amber was his best friend. She'd been his #1 cheerleader for years and had never been afraid to call him out on his shit.

So yeah, he loved the Rocky crew…but they laughed at anyone who took anything too seriously. Mary would show up to game nights in his latest creation—with everyone else in pjs or jeans & hoodies—and they'd tease him about trying to impress the wrong people. He'd try to talk about the newest guitar god he'd been mainlining, and they'd make snoring noises at him.

How could he explain the kinship he felt with the Deathbutantes? That they were as serious about music as he was, that they just…got why he felt the need to dress the way he did to express the way he felt inside on his outside.

Instead, he said, "I'm just trying shit out, Ambs." He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I gotta do something while you guys do your real-person jobs."

(Amber had recently started as a junior marketing assistant at the American Repertory Theater. "Purely mercenary," she'd said. "Maybe it'll give me a leg up during auditions.")

She made a disgruntled scoffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Fuck, don't remind me. I actually gotta go to bed a reasonable hour now."

"Don't worry." Mary winked at her. "I'll keep ya honest."

"That sounds a lot like my head in a toilet, Mare."

"I'll hold your hair back."

She gave him a good-natured shove, and he pretended to cower.

If she wanted to cross pollinate, who was Mary to stand in her way? So, he invited her out the next time the Deathbutantes went to a show, and it went exactly like he thought it would.

They disliked her, and she was equally unimpressed. They thought she was too loud and frenetic, and she thought they had no sense of humor.

"I fucking told you," Mary had snorted as they sat on the curb sharing a clove.

"Shut the fuck up, Mare."

But she'd put her head on his shoulder.

"They make you happy, though. So I guess I approve. Just as long as I don't have to play nice."

Mary still hung out with the Rocky crew—there were still game nights and drug-fueled sex parties and theater games—but the Deathbutantes introduced him to the underground scene. They always seemed to have insider knowledge about the best up-in-coming bands and the secret shows. Theme nights at the goth clubs were always a must, and they rarely missed one. Sometimes, Angelique would crash, and they'd take the commuter rail to Providence to party at Club Hell before collapsing in a sweaty, smeary pile at a friend of a friend's hole in the wall.

As a bit player in the Rocky crew, Mary had been another made-up face in the crowd. As a certified member of the Deathbutantes, Mary became the face.

They all did.

The owners loved them because they bought round after round at the bar, and if word got out that the Deathbutantes were there, their admirers came to spend money as well. The employees loved them because they were fun and talked to them as equals. The clientele loved them because they were pretty young things.

Sometimes, though, Mary wasn't in the mood to party or get laid, so he talked to the DJs instead. He'd buy them rounds and stay past closing to help them pack up while they talked about the history of punk and 80s new wave and nu metal. There was one in particular, Dave, that Mary even considered a friend.

The two of them would sit in the club past closing, sharing a whiskey and talking about life while the bartenders closed down and cashed out. Occasionally, Dave's other friends would be around, and they'd all walk back to his place; he'd fool around spinning in his home studio, and they'd drink box wine as they danced and laughed before Mary would have to sit on the ground in an intoxicated exhaustion, good for only thumbing through Dave's vinyl collection.

Mary was just happy to talk shop with another music aficionado, but Angelique had pointed out that he should leverage his minor clout.

They'd been waiting for Greg to finish setting up, and Mary had been struggle city after a particularly hard night out. It was all he could manage to sit there quietly and hope some god would put him out of his misery.

"You need to get your shit together," Angelique had said out of nowhere.

Mary had cracked a puffy eye and had slowly (as to not bring the nothing in his stomach back up) turned his head to her.

"As if I haven't seen your melted ass on the floor wanting to die."

"Fuck, Mary. You've turned it into an art form."

He'd closed his eyes and given her the finger, but that hadn't stopped her.

"You wanna be a rockstar, boy? You can't just sit on your ass and hope the right person on the right night hears you. You're effervescent and charismatic—heads turn when you walk into a room and not just because of your skinny jeans—but you need more than air, Mary, which is all you are right now."

"Fuck you, Angela."

She'd clapped in front of his face, and she was lucky he didn't Exorcist bile all over her.

"You're a fucking pain in my ass, Goore. I'm doling out the good stuff, try not to bite my hand off, k?"

"All right, all right!"

"You wanna start that band? You wanna get play and amass fans? Well, make that demo you're always droning on about and give it to those DJs you're alway fanboying over. Fucking network, Goore."

At the time, Mary had been too hungover to care, but her advice would sink in…

Eventually.

For the time being, Mary was content. He loved the attention, and it made him feel invincible, made him feel like it was finally His Time. And he was going to make up for every slight, every unfair situation, and every beat down with sex, drugs, and rock-and-roll.

With his newfound nightlife, Mary's day job had become an afterthought. He started sleeping through opening shifts, but with the extra foot traffic Mary brought to the store, his boss seemed resigned to let Mary slide (after a stern talking to and a pay docking).

The shadow cast had started using him as a mascot of sorts, and he was happy to show up on Saturday nights and hype up the waiting line with a pseudo striptease. (Even if it was sometimes to kick off his evening with the Deathbutantes and not hang with the cast after.)

Mary started a band ("auditioning" any and all of the many admirers who said they’d be more than happy to join it), and after a few false starts and a couple of lineup changes, they began working on an EP. (At least, when Mary showed up to rehearsal, they did.)

A Boston Phoenix reporter got wind of the Deathbutantes and called around about doing a story on them. The Bens were excited about the exposure that meant for their zine, and Angelique and Greg were excited about what it could mean for their careers. Mary did a brief interview over the phone where he answered questions about his style and talked about his dream of making his band a household name.

Mary saw his name up in lights, and he was reaching for it, full speed ahead.

But then things turned.

The story fell through at the last minute with no further explanation or contact by the reporter.

His boss finally fired him after Mary showed up too high to function too many times—or not at all.

The shadow cast had a turnover, and suddenly he was old news—a cringey hanger-on.

A trip to the clinic and a round of antibiotics for an STI had him way more wary of who he hooked up with.

"Heroes" lost momentum when imitators popped up and Ben cut off the gravy train.

Angelique moved to NYC for "better opportunities," and the Bens took their brand of counterculture to Portland, OR.

Greg took down the website when he got offered a legit job as an apprentice at a food magazine, and that was that.

The physical zines were cheap things, most ending up papering the sidewalk after trash day or lining the bottom of cages. Without the online presence, did Mary's "modeling career" even exist?

Mary was a little sad to see the era go, but when he woke up in Maine on the hood of some girl's car and only a hazy recollection of how they'd gotten there, he was beginning to see Angelique's point. He needed to get his shit together if he was ever going to become a rockstar. And frankly, he kind of felt like he needed to spend an entire month eating carrots and hydrating.

The 24/7 party had always been an ephemeral thing; it had been sand passing through his hands in a finite amount as he'd tried to hold onto it

He put himself on detox, and waking up sober for the first time in months felt like a revelation. And as it turned out, playing the guitar without badly shaking hands was way, way easier.

He found another job in another music store, and his starter!band was bringing butts into the smaller venues, like Toad.

He still had his old Rocky friends and the Deathbutantes. The club and venue owners still let him in for free, and Dave was always happy to give his demos a spin. By anyone's else's measure, he was steal one of the scene's darlings.

But Mary was beginning to realize that he needed to stop seeing himself as that scared kid who’d arrived in Boston 4 years ago with only a backpack, $72.57 to his name, and void where his family should be.

He needed to stop finding people to please into loving him.

Instead, he needed to live for himself and let them love him for who he was—fuck ups and all.

@slimylayne

Epilogue

"Honestly, that’s probably the reason I even got a band together," he says. "I was still kind of shit at guitar, but people came to see ‘Model Mary’ perform in his underwear."

He shoots me a smirk.

"I’m sure there’re pictures out there of me looking more glam than metal. I kind of played up the whole pinup thing for a while."

"Fuck, I would kill, literally kill to see that."

He pulls me into his lap until I’m straddling him.

"I could open up my underwear drawer and show you right now."

"Goore, you temptress."

I lean down to kiss him, and his hands sneak under my shirt, but I pull away again.

"I kinda thought I knew all your torrid secrets by now. Shit, how come Dave's never needled you about it?"

After 2 years with him, I’m surprised I hadn't even heard a peep from his oldest friend.

Mary snorts.

"Dave would miss shit hanging off his nose. Great dude, amiable as fuck, but he's always had fucking tunnel vision for his music."

I smirk at him.

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Mary pulls a face at me, and I apply kisses to every line until he laughs and bats me away.

"But really, Mare—how come you never told me about your brief career in blue steel?"

He blows out a breath, his hands smoothing up my thighs.

"Fuck. Cuz maybe I was a little embarrassed at how off the rails I was then, ok? Didn't want you to know what I fuck up I was." He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "And even I know it's a shit move to pitch woo at someone by telling them about banging half of Boston."

I make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

His hands rest on my waist.

"Christ, everything about that year's a bit fuzzy, and it was like 10 years ago. Sometimes it feels like it happened to someone else, honestly. And shit—most of those people aren’t even around anymore. College kids who moved on and 20-somethings that grew up and moved who knows where. I used to watch Amber have—what is it when it’s four people?—and now she lives in bumblefuck Pennsylvania with 3 kids. After she left, I just kinda drifted away from all that."

He shrugs, his eyes downcast.

"I’m sorry, Mare," I say as I smooth his eyebrows.

He shrugs again.

"I mean, we all kinda keep in touch. It's like the only reason I have Facebook."

"When was the last time you even signed into that?"

Mary grins at me.

"Lola's birthday."

"One of the models? What happened with them?"

Mary bites his lip and thinks.

"Mayhem found religion after an OD and kinda ghosted everyone. Lesley followed a girl to New Hampshire. Uh…Lola pursued a PhD for something sciencey involving renewable energy with sugar beets in Idaho, and Bryan moved back to Florida to care for his grandma, who raised him."

Mary leans his head back on the couch and rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I mean, shit. We were fucking babies back then. Head empty except for a good time and unlimited potential."

I run my fingers through his hair.

"You miss it?"

His eyes pop open to look at me.

"Fuck no. Not for a million dollars. Too many question marks." His eyes glint as he runs his hands down me. "I like what I got going on right here."

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss his forehead. The fucking sap.

Mary picks up my phone and scrolls through the pictures again.

"Fuck. I used to be goddamn adorable, though. Half this shit wouldn’t even fit me anymore."

I squish his little potbelly, and he grunts at me indignantly.

"Do you still have any originals?" I ask.

He shakes his head, his eyes wistful and his smile sad.

"Nah. Got destroyed when my roof collapsed and leaked everywhere. Fuck, landlords are useless. Glad we fucking own now, babe."

He scrolls up, scrolls back down.

"Just these four?"

I nod.

"Yeah. They were the only ones I found—and I did a lot of searching."

"Christ, I think there were at least 10."

I smile ruefully at him. "It’s not gonna be long anyway before they make their way into the popular tags and shit starts coming out of the woodwork."

He tosses my phone onto the table.

"Whatever. Just shows that I’ve always been cool."

And then he’s kissing me again, his hand tangling in my hair.

"You know, I’m your family now, Mare. Just for you."

He brings my hand up and kisses it.

"Fuck, I know that. Why’dja think I put a ring on it?"

#mary goore #longfic #gender neutral insert #aurelio voltaire

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sz-amare · 4 years ago

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7. My Top 15 Anime List

I have watched a lot of anime in the past four years, but one thing that gives me great enjoyment is ranking my top anime. Here I will rank my top 15 favorite anime, along with some honorable mentions that couldn’t make it. However, I won’t be going too in-depth on the analyses; I just want to give you a general idea of why the particular anime is where it is on my list. In general, I rank my anime depending on a combination of factors: 1) how brilliant I find the anime to be written, 2) if the themes resonate with me, 3) if it is categorized in my favorite genres, and 4) my general enjoyment level. Anyway, to the list.

Number 15

One Punch Man

When I first watched One Punch Man, it seemed nothing more than a mindless comedy anime. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed it and laughed a lot, but I found it to be forgettable. But one day, I heard that the genre of One Punch Man was seinen, which made no sense to me. It had no dark and mature themes, and as I mentioned, it was nothing more than a senseless comedy. But then one day, on a whim, I watched One Punch Man again. And I REALLY enjoyed it. I still laughed a lot, but something felt different to me this time. I actually felt like I had a deep connection with each of the characters. The story seemed to be more structured and enjoyable this time, and finally, I could actually see the themes that One Punch Man was trying to explore. It made sudden sense to me that One Punch Man is indeed a seinen and that it had a lot more to it than on the surface. Of course, the difference in experience is because of my new understanding of anime and the experience I gained.

Number 14

Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple

Kenichi: The Mightiest Disciple is probably one of the most unknown, underappreciated, and underrated anime on this list. Someone recommended it to me, and I had never heard of it, so I assumed it was a mediocre anime. But when I watched it, I had so much fun which I hadn’t felt in many months. It is a training shōnen anime where the main character tries to learn martial arts. That is all I want to say for now because I don’t want to spoil anything, so go watch it. I highly recommend it.

Number 13

A Place Further than the Universe

I don’t see many people talking much about A Place Further than the Universe. But, I must say, it is absolutely phenomenal. It is, hands down, the most inspiring anime in existence. The basic premise is a high school girl wanting to do something significant in her high school life. I won’t say anymore because, again, I don’t want to spoil this anime, and I recommend you check it out if you need inspiration in your life. Let me just say that it is now an aspiring goal of mine to visit Antarctica.

Number 12

Plastic Memories

I made a whole analysis on the previous post so go check it out. But for a quick recap, the life lesson I learned from Plastic Memories has permanently changed my behavior for the better. I found it to be the saddest anime I have ever watched.

Number 11

Steins; Gate

Once again, I have already made an analysis on Steins; Gate, but this time I only covered the first episode. I also ranked Steins; Gate a 10/10 so that must mean that the rest of this list must contain masterpieces. But to be honest, that is not really the case. You see, to me, even if I consider something a masterpiece, the enjoyment factor plays the most significant role in ranking high on my list. For example, I found Death Note to be brilliant, but I really struggled to enjoy it and therefore, it is not ranked that highly. Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed Steins; Gate, but I just enjoyed the rest of these anime way more. Anyway, if you want to see why I loved Steins; Gate so much and why I find it so brilliant, check out blog post 4.

Number 10

Berserk (Manga)

Almost everything I found In Berserk is brilliant (except its adaptations, that’s gas station toilet). Guts is a 10/10 protagonist, Griffith is a 10/10 antagonist, the cast is a 10/10, the story is a 10/10, AND THE ART!!! Holy shit!!! I can actually picture an entire museum dedicated to each panel of Berserk.

Again, the only reason this anime is not any higher is simply because I enjoyed the others on this list so much more. However, I am yet to review any analyses on it so there is a possibility that it will bump-up several places higher when I truly understand the brilliance behind it. Great read though!

Number 9

Haikyuu

I LOVE Haikyuu. Each season gets progressively better and better. It has a lot of controversy around it because of its fan base and because it’s a sports anime. But to be honest, I find Haikyuu to be a better shōnen than My Hero Academia, Black Clover, Jujutsu Kaisen, Demon Slayer, and most other modern shōnen anime. It has its amazing moments, its cast is amazing, the character development is amazing, the themes are amazing, and the antagonists are amazing. I am not bluffing when I say that the antagonists in a Volleyball anime are better than the antagonists in many shōnen anime (I’m going to develop haters before I can even develop fans). I plan on making an essay on what most shōnen strive for yet fail to achieve, and Haikyuu somehow delivers.

Number 8

Oregairu

Best romance. Hands down. Oregairu, or SNAFU, or My Teen Rom-Com is Not What I Expected (yes, so many titles) is a masterpiece in its own right. If you are a guy and you watched Oregairu, don’t act like you didn’t imitate Hachiman a couple times. He is a beautiful protagonist, which most of us guys relate to. His inner monologues result in us treating them as gospel. The sub-text is confusing as fuck, but end up making sense in all sorts of ways once decoded. Yukino is best girl, but man I love Yuigahama almost just as much. The general enjoyment I got out of Oregairu is so far through the roof that I once forced myself to stop watching it so that I could savor the show a little more. It is a little difficult to get into at first, but you will most likely end up enjoying it.

Number 7

Re Zero

This is the most recent addition to the list. I often don’t add anything new to my list; I just switch the places between some of them. But ever since season 2, Re Zero jumped significantly in rank. It is the best anime of 2020 (including sequels), and I enjoyed each episode to the max. I was considering adding Re Zero to my top 10 since the first half of the second season finished, but I was a bit hesitant because I am easily affected by recency bias. But my love for Re Zero would just not die down: my love for it grows after each episode airs. It is the only anime on this list that I watched weekly other than One Piece. I actually prefer watching a series I love weekly rather than binging it all, except for One Piece, pacing is constipation (slow and painful). Other than the vast enjoyment I got out of Re Zero, the main reason it made it to this list is because of the light novel comparisons I watch. Aninews is my favorite source. He compares the episode to the light novels, mentioning what was left out and further describing the emotions and thoughts of the characters. He tends to release the “Cut Content” videos a week after the episode airs, but the content and quality are incomparable. I found the videos to be so amazing I am basically just as excited for the weekly videos as the Re Zero episodes themselves. If you love Re Zero, the Cut Content series is a must watch.

The fantastic details and emotions the light novels are able to portray are stunning. I decided to read the light novels recently, but the only issue is that I am very short on time. But for each novel I complete, I will release a post on it.

Number 6

Mob Psycho

Although I said I found Haikyuu to be better than most modern shōnen, Mob Psycho is hands down the king. Its quality far surpasses all modern shōnen and a lot of older generation shōnen too. Funny thing is, I believe Mob Psycho’s primary genre is slice of life, not shōnen. I also believe it to be the best take on an overpowered protagonist. One of my favorite things is that Mob, who is the strongest esper we have seen, seems to be so weak. That is exactly how he should be portrayed; he is still a child with mental challenges that he is constantly trying to overcome. The themes that Mob Psycho explores are some of my favorites. The animation is a bit weird at first, but after watching it, you suddenly realize how brilliant it is.

(Honorable Mentions)

Attack on Titan

I am going to get a lot of hate for not including this in my top 5, let alone my top 15. Attack on Titan is still releasing episodes, so that opinion may change soon but let me be clear about one thing: Attack on Titan is a masterpiece. It is absolute greatness. The hype and enjoyment I get out of Attack on Titan are out of this world. But, a) the enjoyment feels a bit short-lived for me personally. It is a fantastic week after airing, but I tend to forget about it the next. b) Attack on Titan is simply not my type of show. Again, I do love Attack on Titan. Again, it is a masterpiece. And again, it may bump up a bit after a few episodes release, but as of now, Attack on Titan isn’t in my top 15.

(Honorable Mentions)

No Game No Life

Similar to One Punch Man, I thought No Game No Life was an anime for senseless fun and enjoyment. But then I watched the movie. The movie is canon to the light novels, but it is irrelevant to the plot and only contributes to the understanding of the world. However, since I watched that movie, I felt the world of No Game No Life to be more realistic. Of course, a world where games resolve all sorts of conflicts like war is ridiculous. But after watching the movie, that ridiculousness somehow turned to reality. The world of No Game No Life became fascinating to me, and what seemed like dumb games began to turn into political machinations.

(Honorable Mention)

Magi & Yona of the Dawn

All I have to say about these two anime is that they seemed to be very fascinating premises and concepts, but the anime sadly stops for both. I am considering reading the manga for both of them sometime soon, so this list may change once I do.

Number 5

Hunter x Hunter

If you like shōnen, I don’t see why you would hate Hiatus x Hai—I mean Hunter x Hunter. The only thing it slightly lacks is a strong main cast, which many people like anyway. Otherwise, absolute perfection. They have most of the best villains in all of anime: Hisoka, Chrollo, Meruem… How can you not love Meruem? And the way he parallels with Gon but in the opposite direction: just perfection. The arcs are hard to rank because they are all perfection in their own right. The best power system in anime is nothing short but perfection. If it weren’t for the Hiatus, it would be ranked fourth. I doubt it would scratch my top three.

Number 4

Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood

I know I kept saying perfection when talking about Hunter x Hunter, but I actually believe that Full Metal Alchemist: Brotherhood is the perfect series (Note: I am not saying that no one can love it and that it has to be your #1; obviously there are preferences. I’m merely saying that it perfectly crafts what it is trying to portray). The only two arguments you can bring is that the beginning is weak. But if you watch the 03 version, there are no issues whatsoever, in my eyes. Keep in mind, when I say it is the best, I mean from a narrative standpoint. Yes, the animation isn’t the greatest, and the gags are kind of bad, but from a general narrative standpoint, it is the best writing I have ever seen. The plot was brilliant and well-crafted. The world is beautifully bound by their power system: alchemy. The philosophical discussions and themes it explores always have you thinking. The characters are very likable and are all top tier characters. The mysteries keep you in a cycle of confusion and excitement. Since I love science and chemistry, alchemy was so fascinating to me. This show is definitely well-deserving of the number one rank in My Anime List.

Number 3

Kill la Kill

After listing a lot of the best anime/manga with the best stories and narratives, I can see why someone would be upset that I brought up Kill la Kill. This one is certainly the odd one out. However, remember me mentioning that the enjoyment factor is the biggest decision maker in my list placement? Kill la Kill gave me the most enjoyment out of all the anime on this list, even more significant than the obvious #1. I didn’t find anything to be all that brilliant in Kill la Kill, and I can completely understand if someone hated this particular show. But there was something about Kill la Kill that made me feel nostalgic in a weird way. It also gave me one of the weirdest yet most immense feeling of satisfaction I have ever felt. I love Kill la Kill.

Number 2

Konosuba

Okay yeah, this one is also the odd one out, but it is a little more acceptable. I find Konosuba to be the best comedy anime of all time. Not necessarily because it is the funniest anime (I think it is the funniest but comedy is subjective), but instead because, unlike most comedies, like Nichijo, the characters in Konosuba are absolutely brilliant. Kazuma is one of my favorite characters of all time, Megumi is best girl, but I still love both Darkness and Aqua. Their interactions are absolutely entertaining on both a comedic scale and a general enjoyment scale. Their assholeish-type relationship reflects my relationship with my friends (we are complete assholes to each other, but we also love one another).

Not only that but from the comedy focused anime that I have watched, the plot in this one is actually delightful. The Konosuba movie is my favorite movie of all time, right after A Silent Voice.

Number 1

One Piece

If you read a couple of my previous posts or recognized my profile picture, you probably knew that One Piece is my favorite anime of all time. My love for One Piece is so extensive that I would rather forget all my experiences with anime than forget my experience with One Piece. One Piece inspired me and changed my life. Not in the typical way where I learned a life lesson from the story like Plastic Memories, but simply because I found the writing to be so brilliant. So it was more that Eiichiro Oda, the author of One Piece, inspired me. The characters are the best I have ever seen, the villains are well crafted, the world-building is literally the best in all of fiction, the build-up is fascinating, the questions from the mysteries somehow keep piling over, the symbolism fleshes out aspects of the anime even more, the backstories make characters more relatable and understandable, the general dynamic flow of the world feels like reality, the themes it explores are great learning experiences, the originality never ends, the hype moments keep you energetic for more, the foreshadowing is so phenomenal to the extent where it shouldn’t exist, and the general planning of the story makes it obvious how amazing of an author Eiichiro Oda is.

This series has been airing weekly for nearly 22 years now, the manga for 25. How in the world is Oda able to create this monster of a story, planning certain elements a decade or two in advance? This is brilliance. This is beauty in writing. And I want nothing more than to create a masterpiece of my own.

Final Notes

Emotional, I know. I believe my list here is a bit diverse in terms of genre: shōnen, seinen, romance, comedy, sports, slice-of-life, and mystery. I think it’s a great thing to widen your horizons a bit by exploring various types of genres. Anyway, there are many anime I haven’t watched that could easily replace and dethrone some of the anime on this list. I plan on watching and reading Hajime no Ippo, Gintama, Vagabond, Oyasumi Pun Pun, I”s, etc. I heard these anime/manga are considered the best for their respective genres by many people, and I will probably finish reading and watching these anime/manga in about six months. So I will make a top 15 anime list once again around that time.

If you have any questions or you want to discuss something, feel free to ask in the “Ask Me Anything” tab on my Tumblr page.

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flastar13 · 4 years ago

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Analysis and review Blindsprings Prologue Book 2

Hello everyone, this is the first time that I will analyze a literary work, I chose Blindsprings because I love the art and history of the webcomic, I will focus on the prologue because it is very interesting for me because (Warning I am not a native English speaker, I speak only Latin American Spanish so I apologize for any misspelling): 1. It is at the time of the Orphic government, which we know very little. 2. It shows us Tammy's life as a princess and priestess before the academic revolution. 3. Three very important characters appear in the story but they have appeared minimally in the plot. These are Tammy's empress mother, Aliana the sister whose salvation is the reason why Tammy still serves the spirits and Gregoire leader of the academic revolution and creator of the great seal.

Without further ado let's get started.

-First on the cover we see on the left Aliana very arranged, surrounded by young noble men, and on the right side we have Tammy, surrounded by spirits and mist. Aliana's side is bright and pink in color. This is the third time the character is represented in that color

Tammy on the contrary is represented in green and in the dark. This is very interesting because green and pink are generally opposite colors, this is a way of telling us before reading the chapter that both sisters are opposite but at the same time they are both dressed in white and they do not look very happy in their respective places. basically not very different?

We turn the page to the first page, there Tammy is brushed by a maid whose courtesy seemed somewhat acidic to me and Tammy does not look comfortable when being attended and insists on brushing her hair herself, something rare if you are a princess, not to mention that she squeezes her hair. fists as a sign of annoyance. Another thing is that her room is blue, I know that at first glance it does not seem strange but Tammy never uses blue, she almost always chooses green, white and black, also blue is associated with the academics she hates but according to them, she I support them at the beginning. Is it true? Did she choose that color as a show of support, until she betrayed her by overthrowing her family?

We continue on the next page, apparently a party is being held and the nobles instead of showing respect to their princess and high priestess, are hostile and call her a bastard. Well that was a bit obvious.Tammy is a redhead and the rest of her family is brunette.

Leaving that awkward place, Tammy complains about the cruel comments and reveals to have arrived at the palace a few months ago, and the page text says that she was hiding in a cloister. My reaction was WHAT! According to the fable that appeared in the annotations, it is said that Tammy has lived her entire life in the palace walls and she does not know anything else but in truth she has only lived a few months. The only explanations I can find are: the academics are as I suspect unreliable narrators, it was actually symbolism or they were simply referring to another princess but they used the figure of Tammy because she was more popular. Later she goes to a kind of sanctuary of the spirits but her charming older sister has prepared a small trap for her, thorns (which reminded me of her cello but that on the contrary allows her to serve the spirits) prevent the entrance, annoying Tammy breaks the thorns but Aliana transforms them into snakes causing an understandable fear and panic in Tammy that makes her flee. Aliana laughs but to my surprise she is short lived and she feels somewhat regretful (I hope this is part of a redemption arc where she learns to treat her little sister better than her). Tammy cries for what happened, and is consoled by none other than GREGOIRE, the future leader of the academic revolution. Tammy shows that she is comfortable with him, she tells him about her problems as her sister intimidates her and that she had no say in the matter of being a priestess, Gregoire tells her that she is not to blame for anything, just Aliana is like that because she has always lived in a cruel place and knows nothing else, but she must not also become cruel and never forget where she came from. In agreement they confirm the incongruity of the fable and the reality, Tammy knows and lived in another place at least morally better than the court and Aliana did not. I wonder how long Gregoire and Tammy have known each other, he calls her by her name, he is kind unlike the rest of the court, he seems to know his past and there is a lot of trust between the two, I think that led Tammy to support him, at least at first. Also something that you notice both dress more simply than the rest of the court

I think it is to show how the two are strangers in that place, Tammy illegitimate daughter and Gregoire a common man brought by the empress to court on a whim, but they have managed to support each other, and their clothes show that connection.

Even so I still find it surprising to see Tammy in a simple white dress, I must admit I got used to that

And I had expected to see Aliana instead with a simpler dress than her sister's, as she is generally represented.

On the other hand, the empress has an argument with Aliana because the young princess chose young people reluctant to marry her for the simple fact of being even more reluctant to marry, and wanting to be a priestess again, which is why she torments to her sister. The empress only tells him that she should be grateful that she is not a priestess thanks to having legitimized Tammy. Cool this confirms that Tammy is illegitimate but has recently been recognized by her mother, probably due to as mentioned earlier in Lady Thorne's story, her other legitimate daughters are apparently sterile and Aliana is her last chance to give birth to an heir but She must first marry and we know that being a High Priestess does not allow it so Tammy should have replaced her, but why should she be grateful? Why will she be able to know herself the happiness of being a wife and mother? I don't think so, the empress seems to me to be a bit cold to refer to that, or is it like I'm afraid a sign that being a priestess is darker than it seems. Human sacrifice? Something worse? I fear for Tammy and the other girls with pacts with the spirits. The next scene is my favorite because the four of them finally get together, although their expressions are barely communicated, they say and hide so much at the same time.

Gregoire bows to the empress and Aliana, calls them by their title very different from how he relates to Tammy, reinforcing the closeness between the two, as well as Tammy's simplicity unlike her mother and sister. I am fascinated by how the opposites that are Gregoire and the empress are also shown, the former cares for Tammy, while her own mother does not even speak to him about her by having her in front of him. His clothes reflect the loyalty of each one, the empress wears green, a color related to the spirits her family serves, Gregoire wears blue, which, as I already mentioned, is related to academics, which he will lead in the future. Only Tammy and Aliana wear white as a sign of innocence, and a subtle omen about being caught between the struggle of these representatives of ideas so opposed to each other but strangely seem to attract each other, in a room whose windows look like cages or bars, a sign that at last after all, they are all prisoners of their papers.

Here, as the empress passes near them, Gregoire seems fearful of her, to the point of wanting to protect Tammy from her even if they have been ignored, this is rare, in the history of Lady Thorne he seems comfortable and safe with her , by betraying her and facing her. Hell he caresses her cheek like she's her girlfriend and not the person he's overthrowing, and she doesn't hold back her advances.

Gregoire seems to have a mania for touching people's shoulders.

That nervous face is scaring me. And what follows even more

Everything is obscure and Gregoire's ambiguous comment plus the fact that it is good for Alina not to be a priestess according to her mother, it gives me a bad feeling, I have the feeling that something bad can happen to Tammy I will explain it in another post as a clue that gives the webcomic is in another chapter, but it is well known that it is so bad that Gregoire is going to want to save Tammy from him and maybe that one of the reasons for his revolution, but I doubt that Tammy supports him in that, I think it will be like another Harris given the evidence that Tammy throws throughout the webcomic, about how Harris never asked her how her arm was scarred and saved by the spirits of academics.

Anyway, this prologue makes me think that maybe Gregoire is Tammy's father, he cares about her more than his family and she was his "service" to the Llyn in decadence but I'll talk about that another time, just like the fable and Tammy's possible fate as a priestess. It also shows me that at the end of the day and no matter how bully she is, Aliana, like Tammy, does not have the slightest control of her life and others always make decisions about her, only that Tammy tries to carry it with more grace but showing anger and sometimes defiance of people who try to control it. Aliana no, she shows her disgust by abusing the weakest like Tammy and never does the same to her mother, although she is the one who has the final word on who is a priestess according to what it seems so far, even so the most Close to challenging her mother she does is pick people who wouldn't marry her and try to convince her to marry Tammy (Seriously throwing your sister into an arranged marriage). Well I hope that one day she matures and joins her sister so that they can both finally take charge of her life. No more

See you soon.

#blindsprings #tammy #tamaura #webcomic #prologue

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kevkesblog · 5 years ago

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Translation: Julian Brandt Interview for “11 Freunde” (June 18, 2020)

Attention: long post! Julian talks about overblown salaries in football, why he even stays at two-star hotels, why he thinks football should not be dramaticly reformed and why you won’t see him in Gucci clothing & more.

Julian Brandt, what do you miss the most at the moment?

Ju: Just going outside and sitting in a café with some friends. Enjoying a bit more freedom. But I think many people have the same wishes right now.

Yet, the break because of the Corona pandemic seem to have lifted you. You were involved in all four goals during the 4-0 win against Schalke.

Ju: I would still have preferred it, without the break. I mean it’s like this: sometimes you need just a few days to arrive at a place, sometimes it takes months. Feeling well in a city, a club and with my teammates is important. I’m a football player that needs a comfortable environment.

How was it for you at BVB in the beginning?

Ju: There were definitely no fireworks at the beginning. But honestly, I kind of expected to need more time. I think thats normal after five and a half years at Bayer Leverkusen. It was a great time there, but in the end it was a comfort zone for me. I switched to BVB because I wanted to do something new.

And because Marco Reus asked you.

Ju: Many people were in favour of me going to Dortmund. Even my mother wore yellow pullovers astonishingly often, during the time before my transfer happend. And Marco asked me at the national team, that’s true. I felt honored, but I saw a chance playing for a team which plays competitively for the title until the end of the season and is represented in the Champions League regularly, those were the main reasons for my transfer.

What else is different in Dortmund than in Leverkusen?

Ju: Dortmund is bigger in almost every regard. Even the stadium is enormous and it becomes even more imposing with people in it. Building such a stadium somewhere is one thing. Brining it to live however like in Dortmund – that’s an art in and of itself. You don’t get that very often in Europe. Leverkusen – and I have to be honest here – has never been on my radar for me as a boy. But it’s the perfect club if you want to develop as a young player. I already suspected this after I talked to Rudi Völler for the first time.

I was told, you said „Rudi Völler has honest eyes“ to your father afterwards.

Ju: He has a sincere attitude. I would have believed everything he said. And his promises became reality. We were playing attractive and successful football. And you don’t get so much pressure as a young player from the outside. The media landscape for example is much smaller in Leverkusen than elsewhere.

Do you miss the fans in the stadium in Dortmund?

Ju: I was never that guy who was aware of stuff that happend on the stands. But after the game against Inter Mailand, where we were behind 0-2 before the break and won 3-2 in the end – I recognized how important football is for the people here and how much they were willing to support us. It was so honest, authentic and direct. One of the best games thus far.

Before that Michael Rummenigge critized you as „C-youth player“. That was after the Inter game where you scored as well. Was that a key moment?

Ju: Everybody can voice their opinions that’s totally fine for me. I’m not a person who jumps on it. And I wasn’t really satisfied with my game as well. Perhaps the 2-1 win against Gladbach a few days before was a turning point. Not only, because I scored twice, but rather because I was able to play on the ten for the first time. After that my game became better.

You said in the beginning of your time at BVB „Peter Bosz liked the risk. We don’t really have that here in Dortmund“. Did the way you play now changed?

Ju: We play nice football under Lucien Favre. He likes an offensive tactic. Adding that, we score alot of goals. But Peter Bosz was a special coach in that regard because we played a modern version of football with a high amount of ball possesion – often over 80 percent. And we not only wanted to keep the ball all the time, while playing until our opponent gets tired like it’s the case with tiki-taka football. We were always on the attack. At BVB we put more emphasis on the defensive at the beginning. It was a change for me, since I wanted to have the ball and not running behind him all the time.

Is football an elegant game?

Ju: My room as child was full of „Bravo“-magazine posters with offensive players. Nedved, Robinho, Del Piero and the best among the best: Ronaldinho. I liked it whenever players carry their street football skills to the pitch. Whenever somebody is looking for something spectacular. I want to gamble and not just act in a rigid system.

Doesn’t modern tactics prevent something like this?

Ju: You are basically being funneled at youth football academies with: receive the ball, passing, receiving, passing. There a strict requirements you have to follow. But I think good teams need self-confident players, saying „No, I won’t fit in, but I rather go into a one-on-one situation“. We have such guys in our national team. Leroy Sané or Timo Werner. Kai Havertz is a player who has a street football mentality too. Often it looks very easy, but it’s not. It just passed over into blood.

You are wearing the jersey number 10 at the national team. Like you also wore at Leverkusen. Does that do something with you?

Ju: I feel lighter in some sense. Perhaps because I know that you have to earn the number ten. Not like in the past, but I do think it has a certain meaning yes.

We heard you don’t like to talk about your strengths. Why?

Ju: I think, it looks like I’m a show off. I have enough self-confidence already.

Yet you do know that you can shoot really good. Who taught you?

Ju: Many things happened because I just tried. I even knew as a ten-year old boy: if I want to become a great football player I have to be able to shoot well with both feet. So, for weeks I shoot with my left foot on our lawn. Shot, flank, pass. It helped a lot. I met Federico Palacios during my youth time in Wolfsburg. He taught me insane techniques. I had a phase were I was obsessively training my first contact: not trying to stop the ball between the lines, but rather take the ball without defender nor midfielder getting the ball instead.

What are your weaknesses?

Ju: My headers. But I’m currently working on it and I often score. At least without opponent (laughs). Some people say I can work more on my defensive work. And yes, there is some truth to it, even after I already worked on it for quite some time. The thing is: I’m not an aggressive person, its not who I am. But of course, I understand whenever coaches say I need to have a certain minimum amount of aggressive behavior on the pitch.

Do you have a career plan?

Ju: No, everything I do, I do spontaneously.

But everything you do looks so reasonable: youth football for your home club. Training at a football academy in Wolfsburg. Professional debut at Bayer Leverkusen, your transfer to BVB a year ago…

Ju: Honestly: I could not have imagined going to VfL Wolfsburg as well at the beginning. Why should a boy do this, when he basically grew up just a 20 minute bike ride away from the Weser stadium in Bremen and was standing in the fan curve in his youth?

Because Werder [Bremen] overlooked you?

Ju: That’s not true. I even got invited to a try-out training. But then I looked at some other academies. I wasn’t only looking at VfL Wolfsburg. For example I looked at FC St. Pauli as well. Yet, I had the best feeling with Wolfsburg.

Why?

Especially during the ages 15 to 18 a lot is happening: you grow, your muscle mass is increasing, you slowly get to play with the professionals. On the other hand, many doors are opening. Your friends go partying for example. I liked being on a football academy for two and a half years. You couldn’t leave the campus after 11 o’clock in the evening. Apart from that we were very successful and won the German a-youth championship. But I can still remember how perplexed my parents were at the breakfast table, back when I told them about my decision to join Wolfsburg.

You are being called the “Anti-Star” of the business quite often. Does that do something with you?

Ju: Many people seem to think it’s probably because I have no tattoos and my father is my agent. But to be honest: there are some football player clichées I fit in. I like fast cars. I like playing playstation and I have 40 pairs of shoes in my closet. I just try not to pretend to be someone else. I wouldn’t look good in a Gucci-pullover.

Others like to call you “premature”. You were allowed to train with the professionals at the age of 15 in Wolfsburg. How did you do that?

Ju: That was insane and unreal. I was riding my bike to the training ground one day and the assistant coach Bernd Hollerbach took me to his side and said: “Introduce yourself to the coach”. So, I went into his office. “Hello Mr. Magath, I’m Julian from the under-17 team.” Of course, I was suspecting he already knew me otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten an invitation. But he was just staring at the television. After a while – it felt like an eternity – he looked at me, didn’t say a word, total silence and then he turned away. And then I was sneaking out of the room.

Magath wanted to test you?

Ju: I was unsettled a bit, but I wasn’t thinking about it anymore on the pitch. It doesn’t matter who is on your side, or whether your opponent is twenty years older than you and who your father is.

Did you nutmeg someone?

Ju: I would have been beaten for that. On the other hand: the pain fades away, the nutmeg stays (laughs). I remember I unintentionally shoot a ball into Marvin Hitz’s face.

How many agents were lining up at your doorstep at the time?

Ju: I stopped counting it after a while. I don’t think all agents are bad but I don’t need one at the moment. I have my father. He may not be Mino Raiola with thousands of contacts all over the world. But he doesn’t need them.

Nevertheless: this son-father-constellation also has it’s potential conflicts…

Ju: Our family sticks together – we are very harmonic and strong. I can’t remember a time where we were had an argument. I lived together with my brother in Cologne. I also have a connection with my father because of football. He used to play for the first team at SC Borgfeld – which was also my first club. I still remember: we went into the clubhouse whenever the Champions League was on. It was the best day of the week.

Now it’s about big business. Do you know your own worth?

Ju: It was downgraded since the outbreak of the pandemic. I read that on so some sites.

But it’s still 40 million euros. What does such a number do with you?

Ju: I can handle that because I can manage those numbers quite well. There is a lot money floating around in football. And I know its not easy to comprehend it with normal standards anymore. We live in our own bubble in that regard. The salaries in football are in no relation to what normal people earn – even with football being the greatest sport on earth. But why is that the case? Because sponsors are flushing so unbelievable high amounts of money into football. I think it’s important not to make the sport a luxury item. It has to stay affordable. In the stadium as well as in front of the TV.

Explain to us: why does a professional football player negotiate whether he should get 10 or 11 million euros per year?

Ju: It shows how greedy people can be sometimes. But that’s not football specific. It’s as unfair as the richest one percent of the world’s population owning more than half of the world’s wealth, right?

Could this crisis perhaps be a chance in order for football to calm down?

Ju: Perhaps in the short term. For the next one or two years. If any. I can’t imagine a player like Mbappé being sold next year for 80 million euros. Someone will always pay those insane sums of money.

How do you ground yourself?

Ju: Through my family and friends. Many are studying or doing an apprenticeship. It’s never about money when we talk, I just like having a great time with them. We don’t need a luxury vacation. But one time: we went to Mallorca for four or five days just as we qualified for the Champions League with Bayer Leverkusen. We stayed at a normal two-star-hotel, one room with a bed and a bathroom – that was it. We went to the beach and relaxed.

Has there never been a situation where a friend or family member had to take you back to the ground?

Ju: No. I can’t remember that I ever reacted arrogant or snooty. Or a situation where I thought: “Wow. That’s not who you are”. I’m fully aware of my very privileged life. In short: my greatest worry is whether we will win or loose on the weekends. It’s important to be thankful and to remind yourself what you got every once in a while.

Why do you have to remind yourself stuff like that all the time?

Ju: In order for it never to become normal. I know cheese costs about 69 cents at the grocery store and a different one costs 1,29 euros. But if a tool or device breaks down I sometimes just buy myself a new one. Whereas in the past I would have repaired it by myself.

But is football still the same game you fell in love with as a kid?

Ju: Absolutely. The game itself hasn’t really changed much. Okay, we have the goal line technology – which I support. And we got the video assistant referee, were people can argue. I abstain in that question. Once in a while, new ideas are being floated: like reducing the playtime to 60 minutes, new tournaments, elite leagues – I think it’s all bullshit. Keep football like it is. The way we learned it. With all its faults and tricky aspects. Even if something goes wrong.

Like during the World Cup 2018. Did you know that you could be the first DFB-team leaving the tournament after the group stage?

Ju: At some point he heard of it. It doesn’t really look good on your vita but it happened. Perhaps we needed this in order for something new to emerge. You have to remember: other great football nations also failed in similar ways. Italy, Spain or France all crashed out of the group stage after they won the World Cup.

Did the photo with Mesut Özil and Erdogan brought some unrest into the team?

Ju: The fact that almost all reporting was revolving around that topic was irritating sometimes. Don’t get me wrong: I think its important for the media to cover political topics extensively and with background stories. But I remember after the game against Sweden – after we barely won because of Toni Kroos free kick: shortly after the game you get asked whether the poor performance during the first 75 minutes were due to the photo – and you thinking: why don’t we talk about the game? Mesut became the poster boy for the disappointing World Cup. That’s nonsense. We all played shitty.

During the Confed-Cup the year before, many young players were in the team. At the World Cup the established players came back. Did Löw put his trust into the wrong players in Russia?

Ju: You can come to that conclusion afterwards, but you don’t know it in advance. I could fully understand Low though. He was loyal and in some cases he felt some gratitude. He couldn’t and he didn’t want to replace a World Cup winner from 2014 with a young player. The way we were defeated at the World Cup was not foreseeable. Because we also played great football between 2014 and 2018.

The team made it to the semifinals at the EURO 2016 and you became second with the Olympic football team in Rio.

Ju: A great experience with a team that was just thrown together. A contribution of Horst Hrubesch.

What makes him special?

Ju: He is just great, the guy! He’s from a different generation which you can tell with a lot of things around him. Once he wanted to show me how to shot from the side. I almost tore my muscle fiber doing it. But he manages it very well forming a team with young players. He’s a very free coach and very direct. He always called me lazy (laughs). And he has a very nice and dry sense of humor.

An example?

Ju: Me and the Bender-twins were sitting together shortly before the semifinal against Nigeria. He came up and said: “Guys, losing today doesn’t make any sense anymore.” A funny sentence, but also true if you think about it.

Julian Brandt, you made over 200 Bundesliga games, played Champions League and participated in one World Cup. You just turned 24. Do you even still have time to suck it all in and enjoy it?

Ju: Football is quick. I can still remember coming to Leverkusen – as if it was yesterday: my first game for the under 23 team against Essen. My Bundesliga debut against Schalke a week later. That was a little more than six years ago already. Crazy. Veteran players always say: “Enjoy it, because quickly your career will be over.” But how should you enjoy it? A game every four or five days. New photos, new events. You don’t have an awful lot of time to let everything sink in for a moment. I usually do that on new years eve. On a friend’s balcony. I even get sentimental then.

#julianbrandt #julian brandt #bayerleverkusen #borussiadortmund #bundesliga #bvb #dfb #diemannschaft #german nt

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curiouscarllee · 4 years ago

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Hello, I'm making a list of my OCs with a bit of art and information! I am doing this because I feel as though I post a lot about my characters without ever providing any detail, so, here you go :) On top of this, I'd like to state that I am always intrested in hearing about your ocs as well, you are more than welcome to send me an ask about them or about my own characters :)

Fairlynn: My Main

Fairlynn is a bosmer, he is the Hero of Kvatch and also Sheogorath. He is a tad unpredictable and has some mental issues in regards to mirroring the mad god and myself. Fairlynn was 28 when he started with saving the world, only 29 when it ended and full of grief with Martin's passing. This drove him to the Shivering Isles in hopes that he could persuade a daedric prince to revive his beloved. That's not at all how it went down, upon noticing this realm was not one of a stronger prince, Fairlynn was tempted to leave the plane but found himself infatuated with it instead.

After a few years, the princes sensed a danger approaching, one in the form of an imperial male that had the possibility of defeating them. Therefore, they agreed to send one of themselves down to nirn in an attempt to stop it. Unfortunately, they chose Fairlynn to get the job done and yeeted him down where the bosmer began to gather enforcments in the form of other people which he thought would become allies when they grew older.. But what he didn't expect was the imperial managed to befriend every. Single. One. Of the people Fairlynn had set on course to hate the man, none of them truly did. That's the exact moment where he went, "if you can't beat em' join em'." And promptly joined the group in his mortal form without revealing to them who he was. Instead the group thinks he's just a skooma addict that is talented in the ways of fighting. They have no idea.

Ragnar

This is that imperial male stated in the last description. This man is destined to destroy the influence of the daedric princes on the mortal people, however, he has the intelligence of a box of rocks and everyone doubts this prophecy to be true. The only time one can possibly think this true is when he displays his power in the midst of battle, he was blessed by the divines at birth, each giving him power to defeat the evil of the world. He his bound to use it.. But he never uses it for good, I mean,, why would he? He could kill anyone he wants! No way he's gonna be the "good hero"! (Basically, this was my brother's character and he used mods to make him op so I had to improvise.)

Past wise, my brother and I decided to intertwine him with the lore. You rememeber the song Ragnar the Red? That was Ragnar's father. In truth, his name should be Ragnar the second or Ragnar Jr. but his mother, Matilda, said "hahahaha, no, your father was a mess and you shall not be him." and removed the second part. After his mother died of a sickness, Ragnar hesitantly moved towns in search of work. He missed his mother greatly and would give anything to have her back.

S'arra

Meet S'arra, she is a khajiit female and the heart of the group (along side another who you'll meet shortly). S'arra is the youngest, she may be sweet but she'll rob you blind if she sees a chance. S'arra came from a happy family in Elsywer, she was the child of F'awn and Ja'zaka, two khajiit with completely different sets of morals. Ja'zaka was a born bandit, he was wild and carefree, F'awn (My friends oc :)) was a gentle and caring woman, she loved to live. When F'awn got pregnant, her brother, J'ar, lost his mind. J'ar was fueled with anger towards Ja'zaka and at one point made an attempt at his brother-in-law's life. It was at that moment J'ar was kicked from F'awn's life, he ran from his home and joined a vampire clan/bandit group in Skyrim.

Only months after her birth, Ja'zaka disappeared. He ran and never came back. F'awn tried her best to raise S'arra, but one morning S'arra was taken from her by a rabid animal that invaded the town. The creature took off with S'arra and lead the small khajiit to it's den where a caravan traveling to Skyrim would soon find her and take her with them, raising her as their own on the roads of Skyrim. The caravan was killed and attacked by a certain bandit group/vampire clan (hahaha, yup, the one J'ar is in). S'arra joined the group in hopes of revenge, although, she'll keep that bit to herself. ;)

Adoren

Now this orc, oh he's amazing. He is an old man, a precious old man with a past of pain and betrayal. In order to introduce his past, we need to introduce his adpoted brother first:

Zanik

This is Adoren's adopted brother, Zanik (grandson of Nellie), a not so nice older man. Zanik was thrown out by his father a young age, more precisely, he was thrown in a river by his father in one of his father's crazed fits. Zanik can't swim, he hates water more than anything else in his life. The dunmer was washed to shore near an orc stronghold where he was picked up by Adoren and adopted by the orcs family. Zanik and Adoren lived happily for many many years, one day they went on an exploration to scout for different hunting grounds. It started to pour causing the two to take shelter in a dwemer ruin. That's when they heard soft groaning and sounds of pain coming from down one of the halls. Hesitantly, they explored. Only to find:

Kidawe

My most lore breaking character! Meet Kidawe, a small snow elf from one of the last remaining villiages of falmer! Now, yes, I am breaking the lore because, since when has canon lore stopped me? Kidawe lived on top of the mountains to the north of Cyrodiil and the South of Skyrim. His village is small and portable, in case they need to move, the tribe of elves is shrouded in mystery, they've managed to live this long and refuse to leave their mountain. Kidawe doesn't listen to that, he runs off each night in search for dwemer ruins, things he find more then interesting. The young elf holds no fear when he's in his element, and he loves to explore. One evening, while in a ruin he is attacked by a vampire/bandit named Raeferth (the leader) who pushes him to join the group, trying to convince the snow elf that his expertise is needed. Kidawe refuses and then engages in battle with the nord, he looses and ends up pinned under a fallen pillar that crushes his arm.

Upon waking up after falling unconscious from the pain, Kidawe is met with the sight of Adoren and Zanik standing over him. After many many months of trust building, the two get Kidawe to befriend them. Kidawe uses their help to fashion himself a new arm from dwarven parts found in the ruin. After a few years, Kidawe disappears. He was taken by force by Raeferth (the others do not know this). Adoren and Zanik are heart broken. They miss their friend greatly.

Adoren/Zanik Pt.2

After losing Kidawe, these two go off and join a bandit group.. Yes the same vampire clan group. Adoren thrives in the group, he his strong and more then willing to get his hands dirty. Zanik.. Not so much. Zanik is only kept around because of Adoren. They all know not to mess with Zanik or else they mess with Adoren.

After spending a few years with them, Adoren decides he can't continue this. Zanik begs him not to leave, trying to make the orc realize that this group will not let them go without hurting them. Adoren doesn't listen and leaves the bandits, later that day the stronghold is burnt to the ground. Adoren looses everything in the fire, his parents pass away, his friends and family. Instead of processing lose normally, he makes it up in his head that the reason Zanik was warning him was because Zanik had a hand in it. Therefore the two fight and Adoren punches Zanik, he's wearing a ring that catches under Zanik's flesh and pratically tears off his cheek leaving the dunmer with a horrible scar. Adoren warns Zanik never to speak with him again.

Which of course doesn't stand because after they grew up into old men, they cross eachother's paths once more. They both join up with the good guy group at different times, Adoren joins first after he finds them in his house, and Zanik joins when he is once again found washed up on the shore.

Zorlin

Not much on this boio, he was my first oc in the Elder Scrolls. He's an argonian heavy set warrior. Zorlin is silent and cut throat, he is a part of the Brotherhood and only joins the good guy group after his brother, Tu'ru is 'murdered' by Raeferth.

Tristane

There is so much on him. I'm just going to do bullet points:

Born in Skyrim 200+ years ago. He never knew his true parents and was instead brought up by a wealthy noble family. They more kept him around for labor.

He befriends 3 local kids, Mayrn (breton like him), Raeferth (nord trouble maker), and Lynik (Raeferth's brother).

They all cause problems and Tristane falls in love with Raeferth :D

One day Raeferth claims to have found immortality, Tristane instantly says "No, I'm not doing this." And leaves the friend group, trying to focus on himself.

He is then framed for a crime he didn't commit and sent to Cyrodiil's Imperial Prison. Then he is bailed out by the Emperor and sent to Morrowind.

Morrowind happens, Tristane changes from whining child to even whiner child with the ability to cast spells.

After Morrowind, Tristane travels to Solstiem where he is confronted with Mayrn and Lynik (both as bandit vampires).

Mayrn and Lynik try to force him back to Skyrim to see Raeferth and join them. Tristane, as he said before, says "no". So they kill him.

Now they don't really kill him, they use a method I made up called Soul Gem Reflection. This is something I completely made up but I like it so sue me. I can write an entire post on this alone so we're just gonne say, "Soul gem reflection is a method in which the targets soul is directed towards an object they held dear in life instead of dying. They're life essence is held in the soul gem, but they live in the object."

In this case, Tristane was reflected in his journal.

Lynik felt horrible for doing this to his friend, he felt guilty and returned the journal which he unknowingly relfected the breton in, and gave it to Tristane's family who in turn stuffed the journal in the basement.

Fast forward 200+ years and Adoren buys the manor, finding Tristane's journal inside and opening it. Surprise! Out springs a ghostly figure of Tristane who then convinced Adoren to take him along with the group!

Other Characters:

This is J'ar. He's mentioned above.

Also, here's some more character that aren't affiliated with the group:

-Baendil and Baendal are bosmer brothers, they were abandoned by their parents and instead found by cranky altmer father Kornan. They're bandits (not related to vampires at all). They're bad, not morally wrong but actually just bad at being bandits. They couldn't rob you even if you asked them to.

-I will add more later I'm sure.

#tes #the elder scrolls #skyrim #my art :)#oblivion #khajiit #bosmer #morrowind #dunmer #orc #nord #imperial #argonian

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anaise · 4 years ago

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Fearing What You Loved

Photo source: https://www.thesparkng.com/hub/the-a-r-t-in-nature/

Fearing What you Loved

(Human Interest Article)

There was a man near our house, he's our neighbor. His appearance and stature long passed its youthfulness, grey hair, wrinkled face, and poor posture. He's a good man, in fact our family is close with him, his daughter who's a lot older than me, we have talked before and had some conversations here and there. I know him but I don't know him personally and neither had I ever talked to him before. One day I happened to see him painting on a canvas outside their house, I just came from school that day. You see I love art works, particularly paintings, that's why when I saw him painting I was curious, I tried to look at what he is painting but to no avail I can't see it. Since he's facing the plants I guessed that it's the plants he's painting.

The next day came and I saw him painting once again, since I can't see whatever that he's painting I just then look at the painting materials on the ground. There were brushes and tubes of paint all together in a box, and because I'm an art enthusiast myself I noticed some very expensive paint tubes and paint brushes in that box, they don't look used but they don't look new as well. I try not to stay for too long or I may get caught so I decided that I'll just to talk to his daughter when I get a chance then maybe I can ask her some questions myself because I was getting more curious.

Sunday came and I happened to see her (our neighbor's daughter) outside their house watering plants. We're not quite close but we are well acquainted to each other so I started off by saying hello and sharing that I love paintings and is very interested in them, I then asked if her father happened to be an artist because I saw him painting while I was on my way home a few days ago. Right after I said that she looked at me like she did not just heard what I said, and maybe that's the case because she asked me to repeat what I said one more time. I repeated what I said and her eyes suddenly reflected a pool of emotions. I immediately asked if she's okay and she waves of my concern and told me that she's fine. She then said that yes her father used to be an artist, and it's been so long since her father last hold a brush or anything that's related to art. We talked for a while (for about 3 hours) then she decided to say good bye because she still needs to do something else.

After talking to her I learned that her father used to work as an artist who does commissions and requests back on the earlier days. Even though self portraits and art commissions are getting less popular because of cameras and photography by that time, her father's income can still sustain their family needs, as their family expands and with needs gradually getting higher his father decided to exclusively work under a person who promised to sell her father's work at a higher price and find the best potential buyers for him. The promised amount of pay his father will get will sufficiently support their family. On the first few months of her father's work they are getting by with their everyday expenses.

Her father never minds to over work and to paint, even if he's exhausted and tiredness is evident in his face. Whenever she would ask him to rest or took a day off, her father would just say that he doesn't need it and there will be no difference because weather it's work or pass time, he'll be painting still. With that kind of assertiveness from her father they never really tried to reason with him anymore or make him stop painting, instead they only asked him to rest if he can because they are concerned with his health. With his love and passion for his work they never once expected that there will be a day where her father will hate painting and anything that is related to art. None of them know what to do when their father came home one night and burned all of his paintings and sketches. From then on they never really new what had happened, he just started getting angry or show indifference towards something that is related to painting and art. Some other times his whole body would be shaking as if its afraid of these things. They were younger back then and cannot do anything but to help their parents, and that includes avoiding anything that involves their father's love for art. By the time they started earning their own money she immediately scheduled an appointment for her father to know the reason of his sudden indifference and hate for something that he loves so much. The doctor then diagnosed her father experiencing Post-traumatic disorder, it was said that her father for sure had a very traumatic experience and that he's being reminded of these traumatic experiences every time he see anything that is related to art.

After hearing that story I realized why she was so thankful and grateful that I approached her because as she said, she never once saw her father touch his art supplies, she wouldn't want to force him either but she needs at least an assurance that he's healing and giving himself a chance to recover once again. Her father's story made me think and ponder, it was so sad and it's something that we most likely did not expect to happen. I felt lucky seeing someone doing the things that they had feared in such a long time. It made me feel relieved to know that in the near future all scars of his past will be healed and he will find the joy painting once gave him before.

#painting #Human Interest #neighbor #storytelling

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bizarrelovesquare · 5 years ago

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Hello, it’s Evie, and this is my new account!

brief explanation under the cut so I can get it off my chest, but it’s not required to read <3

I realized over the last several months that I did not like being perceived the way I was online, and that I have the power to just walk away and start over on a smaller scale and avoid anything I don’t want to be part of. In July, with no warning, I cleared out and abandoned/deactivated any accounts around the web that didn’t make me happy. All I have now are this, pinterest, ao3, and a new private twitter just for close friends.

Being online had come to feel like an expectation, no longer something for recreation, and most of it wasn’t fun. It honestly had been feeling that way for awhile, but I reached the last straw when I briefly got involved with a fandom on twitter (yuck) several months ago that was absolutely horrid. I realized what a mess it all really was, I finally snapped, and I got the hell away from everything and everyone.

It was easy to leave other sites because there was so much that I wanted to escape from--the hostility and toxicity, people’s dumbassery, the feeling of not being adequate enough as an artist, the pressure to get constant interaction, feeling like I was being watched all the time by hundreds to thousands of people who didn’t care about me as a person, etc. Social media was too much for my introvert self. However, I was on the fence about what I wanted to do with tumblr, so I sat on it for two months and mulled it over. I actually love this site because it’s mostly chill and has the best format, it’s creative, and it’s easy to avoid anything you don’t want to see, but I just didn’t love the baggage that I had on my old blog. I’d been on there since 2013 and had grown and changed a lot, particularly over the past year, and there was so much way back in there that didn’t represent who I’ve come to be, and it honestly made me feel stuck, even after I tried changing my url, giving that blog a makeover, and being more myself.

Several years ago, I spent an ungodly amount of time on this site trying to appeal to others, instead of letting myself just exist authentically and showcase all of my personality. I got fandom popular pretty early on, and for a long time, it made me feel like it was my duty to post about the things that got me popular and make original posts that my heart wasn’t even halfway into, worded in a way that would get notes. Keep in mind, I was younger and dumber when doing that and had nothing else going for me at that time (it was a low point in life). I definitely grew out of that mentality, but I couldn’t get away from all the posts I’d made that I no longer cared about that wouldn’t stop getting notes and the reputation I had developed for being known for a particular thing. I felt like there were too many followers who weren’t really there for me as a person or any other niche interests of mine, and it was really holding me back from just posting what I want and as much as I want, even after I quit caring and tried to just present as the real me. I knew it was my blog and it didn’t matter what others wanted, but I think the main thing was that I felt held back by my older ways of using tumblr, and I realized that I don’t want anything from that period of my life still attached to me. I didn’t know who I was back then, so I defined myself by an obsession. These days, I want people to see me as a whole person with a real life who just happens to also really like some things.

On top of that, again back when I was several years younger and at the lowest point of my life, I used to vent way too much about negative things in my personal life that don’t matter anymore, and even though I went through my archive and deleted them all, even though I know nobody else remembers them or is looking at them, I still knew that they happened, and I didn’t want that energy to keep following me. There was also evidence of ex-friendships and relationships I’m not proud of, ways I acted that I just don’t vibe with now, and just too much I remember that didn’t represent current-day me, and I want to actually break the connection to those memories. So with all of that, I decided I’d feel best to remake and start fresh. I got away from negative feelings everywhere else, so why not here, too? Any posts on the old blog that I love can eventually be reblogged over here. I’m going to curate a fresh new gallery of things I love, while feeling at peace about the whole thing.

My life is nothing like it was years ago. I’m actually happy with myself and my life and have been for nearly a year now. I know who I am now. I’ve healed/am healing from a lot of personal things. I have budding careers in everything I love and am working towards my dream life. I’m not ashamed of anything about myself. I still have bad days sometimes, but I don’t live in my misery. I like being positive and want to stay that way as much as possible.

I also never really let me show myself as a creator as much as I would have liked before, and I want to focus more on that from now on. As far as fan content goes, I’ve gotten back into writing fics and am no longer scared to share them. I’ve been working more on cosplay this year than I have in years. I also want to try to get into making gifs. Additionally, I am a writer (fiction and non), photographer, and aspiring designer in real life, so some original work might show up now and then, too, if it’s something I’m really proud of. I also want to post about mental health and recovery. My blog will still have plenty of fan content, but I want to sprinkle in some other things that are important to me as well.

I just want to be in a quiet peaceful corner among good people. Lately, I’ve realized that I want my life to be as lowkey as possible, both online and irl. I just want to vibe and do my thing for myself, surrounded by a few good friends. I learned way too late that fandoms are hell if you branch out too far, and that I also hate being in the spotlight, even in regards to things I create. I don’t exist for the consumption of others, and that’s such a freeing thing to realize. Anything I post/rb is solely because I want it on my blog; I don’t care what happens to it after I put it there. I post for me, I make my art for me (and sometimes my jobs), and if my friends enjoy it, and if I make new friends along the way, that’s awesome! But impressing everybody is just not a thing I can nor want to do anymore. You don’t have to run yourself ragged trying to spread yourself across the internet, whether as a fan or a creator. If a site was to disappear, what do all those likes and followers mean? Absolutely nothing. At the end of the day, all you have is you and how YOU feel about yourself, so spend your time on here (or anywhere, really) existing for you, first and foremost.

I’ve gone back to my very old internet days of not trying to impress anyone, while combining that mentality with the wisdom and sense of self that I’ve gained with age. Maybe you won’t be able to tell a difference, but I’m the one living in my head, and I definitely can tell that I’ve grown, a lot in my life has changed, and I am much more confident in myself, and I want to have a blog that 100% feels like me and has no bad associations attached. I’m not the first person to make a new account and won’t be the last. Things like this are supposed to mostly be FOR FUN, and too many people these days have gotten away from that. Don’t feel like you have to keep living up to some reputation that was built years ago, and don’t feel like you exist for others. Be yourself, embrace changes as you grow, do what’s comfortable and healthy for you and makes you happy, and the right people will like you for that. The most important of them being you. <3

#evie's diary

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ofmargos · 4 years ago

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chicago’s very own margo rosas has been spotted on madison avenue , with a striking semblance to camila mendes ! you may know them as @margo or hitting the front page of tmz as margo rosas is making her comeback on broadway ! according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re overdramatic , but being passionate might help you . things that would paint a better picture of you would be the sound of stilettos hitting the pavement , the thunderous sound of applause , and having the poise of a well-mannered lady but the mouth of a sailor . ( cis female + she / her )

omg hey y’all it’s ya girl lia back at it again with the broadway b*tch herself , margo ! fun fact : i’ve been writing for margo off n on for THREE years ?? that’s wild . no matter what i do i cannot get rid of this muse akjsdnk but i love her and i hope y’all do too ! under the cut is far too much info on her ( i’m sorry it’s long !! ) pls go ahead and give this post a like if you give me consent to come bug you in the im’s / discord ! <3

*+:｡.｡ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 ｡.｡:+*

–;; 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞: Margaret Lucia Rosas – ;; 𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞(𝐬): Margo ( preferred name ), Mars, Mar, Pain in the Ass, Drama Queen – ;; 𝐀𝐠𝐞: Twenty-Three – ;; 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁: 31 October 1997 – ;; 𝐙𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜: Scorpio sun, scorpio moon, leo asc ( yikes ) – ;; 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫: Cis Female – ;; 𝐎𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Bisexual Biromantic – ;; 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭: 5ft 2 – ;; 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞: Chicago, IL – ;; 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: Luxurious apartment in Manhattan – ;; 𝐎𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Singer / Songwriter + Broadway Performer ( Julia Michaels VC ) – ;; 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬: Passionate, creative, dramatic, distrusting, outgoing, ambitious, fun-loving, loyal, daring, sarcastic, stubborn, overconfident, impulsive, hard-working, petty, secretive, short-tempered, vindictive

*+:｡.｡ 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ｡.｡:+*

*TW: undiagnosed illness, death

grew up as an only child in chicago, illinois. her family was definitely in the middle class but her parents both worked hard to provide their pride and joy with everything she could’ve wanted out of life

and it became apparent early on that what margo wanted was to perform. she was always singing around the house, putting on one-woman shows for her parents, and following along to the choreography of her favorite DCOM on tv. and in order to keep her satisfied, and also out of the house while they were both working, her parents threw her into an abundance of performing arts classes: ballet, tap, and jazz classes + singing lessons + acting workshops-- you name it. it was a very expensive hobby but her parents were willing to put in the extra work hours to fund her passions

she honestly grew up blissfully unaware of the sacrifices her parents were making on her behalf. they just never made her feel like she was inconveniencing them in any way. if she wanted to spend her day turn acting, singing, and dancing then so be it. they supported her emotionally and financially 100%

*ILLNESS TW* but the rose-tinted glasses were ripped from her eyes around the age of fourteen / fifteen. her mom had always had a weak immune system-- the first one to catch a cold or the flu, knocking her on her ass and leaving her bedridden for days at a time. it only got worse as years went on and she avoided doctor appointments out of fear of being charged unnecessary costly fees. she downplayed her compromising situation for as long as she could until she physically couldn’t carry on any more and had to stop going to work

margo and her father urged the stubborn woman to seek medical attention for any sort of relief for months until she finally conceded. soon it became the new norm for her mother to be in and out of hospitals, getting tests done, trying various medications. but nothing helped in the long-term and they were unable to come to a strict diagnosis *ILLNESS TW END*

and she had been right, it was terribly expensive. their funds were short considering the family was down to one income. so margo took on more responsibilities by working part-time jobs as well as going to school. she was sixteen and teaching dance lessons at her childhood studio in exchange for a small amount of pay + free lessons as well as working at a local movie theatre 6 days a week. she cut back on extracurricular lessons to save some money, instead pouring all her creative energy into only school related clubs such as choir, theatre, and so on

honestly, if you knew margo in high school you’d likely not even know about her familial situation. she liked to keep her cards close to her chest and portrayed herself as this larger than life character that no one would believe had experienced any hardships. she distracted from her own worries by playing the role of ‘queen bee’ or more accurately rachael berry from glee ( a cursed character at this point but it’s true unfortunately )

margo had big dreams of making it to broadway one day and had planned to get there by going to college in new york and make a name for herself. but with her mother’s healthy declining the closer margo got to graduation, the more put off she was by the idea of moving away from home. she was willing to put all plans for her future on hold and take care of her mother but her parents wouldn’t let her. being as encouraging as ever, they convinced her that she needed to follow her dreams. she had already given up a majority of her teenage years to help them out when they needed it most. they wouldn’t let her miss out on anything else

so with a heavy heart but on a good scholarship, she left for columbia university without any idea of what to expect. new york was a whole new world for her and she was thrown off by how talented, beautiful, and wealthy her peers were. she had felt like a big fish in a really small pond during her high school days. but for once she was a tiny fish in the big wide ocean

her larger than life persona came back into play-- masking her worries and insecurities with a version of herself that was so confident that she even began to fool herself. she got a bit lost in the fantasy. her true self-slipping away. she almost had this alter ego ??? ( come thru hannah montana moment okay ) wannabe starlet rubbing elbows with the future CEOs and celebrities of the world by day and local pizza parlor waitress by the night, working to make a decent living while also sending money back home when she could

she also had to maintain good grades to keep her scholarship and participate in performances that her department put on in order to rise in the ranks

honestly the only time she got a little peace was when she was hanging out with her few GOOD friends. like the people that actually got to know her past her fake personality. they were also music people so they spent a lot of time together just messing around with instruments and vocals and writing songs in their own little makeshift studio / hangout spot

it started off as just fun and games, but with their help margo created some original songs and released them as an indie artist. she put herself out there on her social media profiles like “hey stream my new single!!!!!!” and people ate it up. after releasing a few tracks and establishing her own following, her music eventually got to the right people and she was given the opportunity to sign to an actual label which was wild ???

and while it was an amazing opportunity, releasing music under the label was also very demanding. when she was releasing music from the comfort of her friend’s studio it was purely a fun creative outlet and done on her own time. it was just... rough. but how could she complain when she was making a name for herself in the music industry + making bank from royalties + getting to meet all these cool famous people and go to parties with them and y’know ... spiral and slack off on other responsibilities

*DEATH TW* it was around her junior year that things started to go from bad to worse. she remembers exactly where she was and what she was doing when she got the call from her dad informing her of her mom’s extended stay in the hospital. things weren’t looking too good. there wasn’t anything they could do for the older lady and honestly she was done fighting. margo flew back home to chicago immediately and stayed at her childhood home for the following weeks until her mother passed. it was absolutely devastating. she stayed in chicago with her dad for months as they worked through their grief together *DEATH TW END*

columbia was pretty understanding of her situation and was willing to be accommodating so she could finish her degree plan, but margo put things off for so long that she eventually just withdrew from the university and was dead set on just living in chicago forever

i’m not gonna lie, margo was down and out for a little while. didn’t talk to anyone really, rarely left the house, stopped making music, and just sorta fell off completely. the only good thing that came out of the year or so that she spent back home was she stepped away from the false reality she created for herself in new york, which helped her realize that she didn’t love the person she was becoming or the things she was doing. she wasn’t even really involved with her one true passion which was theatre / acting

it was with a little boost from her dad ( literally her biggest fan , i love this man okay ) that she started acting like herself again. he told her that her mom wouldn’t want her to give up on everything and neither would he. so with a new found determination ( and a pretty exciting career opportunity ), margo put on her big girl pants and moved her ass back to new york to finally do what she loves to do

and here we are now ! she’s stepping into her break-out role onto broadway as lydia deetz in bettlejuice the musical

she’s only been back in new york for a few months at this point i’d say ??? and i can’t wait to see her come into her own and grow into the margo i know and love ... but also hate because she’s so so dumb :-) <3

*+:｡.｡ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 & 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒｡.｡:+*

she has no chill, probably will never have any chill, and i am sorry for that ASJNDLK she’s just overdramatic as hell !!! she’s a theatre kid at heart and i would expect absolutely nothing less from her

generally good-natured though and has good intentions. just simply has piss-poor execution sometimes

down to clown and ready to have a good time all the time all in the name of enjoying life to its fullest while we all have a chance

the only thing she takes seriously is her work life. she’s on her grind okay, it took a lot for her to get to where she is today and she’s not going to just let it slip away that easily. she’s doing everything she can to make not only herself proud but her parents :’-)

still releases her own music under the label but her primarily focus is on her budding broadway career and the label is understanding of that ... mostly because she called an executive meeting ( against her manager’s better judgement ) and was super up front and threatened to walk out if they didn’t see reason ... but at least things worked out well !!!

she mostly writes songs for other people at this point in her career. some big names too ( just like ... google julia michael’s career and apply it to margo okay thank u )

honestly her management teams worst nightmare simply because she does not listen and will do whatever she wants and post whatever she wants and will not apologize for being her authentic self in media

like, she’s just starting to figure out who she is again and they want her to stop and act fake because she’s not being very “family-friendly” or because it doesn’t make her “look good to the public” ??? nah f*ck that !

while she is sociable and fun-loving, she’s also hard to seriously get to know sometimes because of all those years of putting up a front. like sometimes she doesn’t even realize that she’s not being 100% genuine ??? so you could be hanging out with her every single day and still not know her completely and she might not open up and that’s okay, she’s working on it

she is a pretty good friend tho ! super loyal, a true ride or die, will want to fight anyone that you have a problem with, showers you in compliments and gifts, truly 10 / 10

but if she doesn’t like you or if you’ve mistreated her in any way at all she will in fact hold it against you for the rest of her life. just petty as a mf and i hate her for it like sis pls leT SH*T GO !!!!

didn’t grow up rich so now that she’s making bank she’s one of those people that just buys dumb things just because she can ??? the size of her closet is absolutely ridiculous, just overflowing with clothes and accessories, and the amount of random packages that get delivered to her apartment that she doesn’t even remember ordering is even more so ... just ... irresponsible spender

stubborn ?? what is compromising ??? doesn’t know her but will try ( begrudgingly ) if she really likes you

hates being bored. can and will go to excessive lengths to avoid boredom

partygirl margo has not stopped, will not stop, and cannot be stopped much to my own disappointment

self-proclaimed dancing queen. really puts all those years of classical dance training to good use by hopping on top of tables / countertops at parties to shake some ass

surprisingly a responsible adult that can cook and clean and get shit done when she really puts her mind to it ??? this developed over the years that her mom was sick and bedridden and she stepped up to take care of household chores while her dad worked doubles

very family-oriented and talks to her dad all the time. like, calls him daily for really dumb reasons. any time she feels down the first person she wants to talk to is him ( well it’s actually her mom, who was her best friend in the whole world, but since she’s not here anymore they make do as just the two of them )

her ego is LARGE. GRANDE. thinks very highly of herself as a result of being praised too much as a child probably. not to mention she is very very good at what she does, has more talent in her little pinky then i do in my whole body. she’s secretly insecure on the inside but she presents as an overconfident bad bitch

a staple to her character that i wish she would shake is her inability to handle her own feelings in a healthy way ... she just sorta ... shuts down ?? runs away ?? acts like nothing is happening ?? it’s bad. would rather leave than get left and bottle up all her feelings and kick them under the bed then ever open up

has a terrible sleeping pattern and cannot stay on a solid sleep schedule to save her life. undiagnosed insomniac. when her mind just won’t calm down she often goes out to keep her occupied and avoid any overthinking that might occur when she’s in her own company

her life motto is #YOLO and does a lot of stupid sh*t because of it

probably uses tiktok too much both as a consumer and a content creator. vlogs her backstage experiences and also just posts dumb, amusing things

this is so long i’m sorry if you read this whole thing i just have a lot of feelings about her after writing her for so many years AKJSDK i’ll shut up now BYE

i have margo’s wc page HERE but just some ideas are best friends, frenemies, confidants, fellow music people, party friends, pr friends or pr rivals, crushes, on and off again, exes, roommate, childhood friends, family friends, good influence, bad influence, honestly truly anything and everything PLS i love to plot and write w/ all of you ! <3

#wealthyhq:intro #i finally finished this so imma post it #pls love my baby 🥺

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